The woman whimpering on the ground beside her was perhaps in the early stages of middle age. She had chestnut brown hair and was wearing the same plain white robe that Ashtoreth had been equipped with when they’d been warped in.
But the most distinct thing about her were her animal features—she had round, furry brown ears and a matching tail.
Ashtoreth judged that she needed some cheering up.
“Say,” Ashtoreth said. “Are you here because you have a bloodline? Those are supposed to be really rare, and super powerful! One of your ancestors probably got busy with a monkey god, or something. Pretty cool, huh?”
The woman breathed rapidly as she slowly looked up, her eyes focusing on Ashtoreth, uncomprehending.
“With the power of a bloodline to back you up, I bet you’ll do great!”
The woman blinked several times, terror seeming to slowly dawn on her face as she comprehended what she was looking at.
“Oh,” said Ashtoreth. “My name’s Ashtoreth, by the way. I’m on your side, if you couldn’t tell.” She flapped her wings nervously. “I guess maybe I should have led with that….”
The woman sat up and slowly looked around, her face becoming more and more of a mask of terror. “No,” she whispered. “I don’t… I don’t belong here.” She began to shake even more, and her face snapped back to Ashtoreth. “I don’t belong here!”
Ashtoreth frowned. “Oh, sorry—I should have explained Hell, first.”
The woman winced as she heard the word Hell, and Ashtoreth quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s not that bad, trust me—look, just let me explain. Maybe… take some deep breaths? Just try and calm down a bit.”
The woman looked at her, mouth agape, her face pale, her breathing rapid.
“You think this is your Hell,” said Ashtoreth. “That you died to get here, that being here means you’re bad, and that now you’re going to suffer eternally. Right? Well I have great news!” She flashed the woman a smile and put her hands on her hips. “None of those things are true. You’re didn’t die, you’re not bad, and best of all—”
She spread her arms to present the hellscape around her and grinned down at the shaking woman. “—We’re here to become more powerful than you could possibly imagine!”
She let this sink in for a couple of seconds before continuing. “Now: you tell me your name, take a few big, deep breaths, and we’ll go over the system together!”
The woman’s lower lip trembled a little. Then, without warning, she scrambled to her feet and began to run full tilt toward the open end of the hallway.
“Wait!” Ashtoreth said, lunging after her. “We should be friends!”
The woman made it to the branching end of the corridor. There she stopped, looking down one of the hallways, and froze as her eyes widened with terror.
Ashtoreth was much faster than the woman, and caught up with her a split-second later. She shouldered the woman out of the way as she moved into the corridor, putting herself in the path of an oncoming demon.
A dog with shimmering black fur barreled down the corridor toward her, thick muscles rippling under its sleek coat, steam gushing from a slavering maw beneath faintly luminous red eyes.
{Hellhound — Level 3}
It lunged at Ashtoreth. Normally she’d have leapt aside, but there was a human behind her. Instead she raised her arms, shifted her fingers into claws, and sank both hands into the creature’s neck as it lunged for her throat.
Its weight smashed into her, sending both of them to the stone floor as the claws on its forepaws scratched at her chest. But her grip around its neck tightened, her claws slicing deeper and deeper into blood-matted fur while she held its gnashing teeth at bay.
After a few moments it fell limp.
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{You receive 1 [Hellhound Core]; Tier 1}
She threw the corpse off her and scrambled to her feet, turning to find—
“Oh, goddamn,” she cursed.
A second hellhound had charged down the other corridor. While she’d struggled with the first, it had got the human on the ground and fixed its teeth around her neck. It was now shaking her around like a ragdoll, blood everywhere.
Ashtoreth leapt on the hellhound’s back, slashing into its neck with her claws.
“You,” she said accusingly, bringing her claws down again and again. “I have cause—to dislike.”
She severed its spinal column with a decisive slash and it fell still.
{You receive 1 [Hellhound Core]; Tier 1}
She heaved the hellhound off the human—or rather, the human’s corpse. The woman’s blank eyes now stared up at the ceiling, her face a mask of terror.
Ashtoreth sighed. Then she shrugged. “Oh well, was never gonna save ‘em all.”
She turned her attention away from the dead woman and toward her newly-gotten cores. “Let’s look at some of these new goodies.”
That would cheer her up.
First, she retreated back into the hallway they’d spawned in. Then she spent some [Blood] to regenerate the deep gashes that had been made across her chest and shoulders. She checked her stats:
[Dexterity]: 106
[Strength]: 110
[Vitality]: 88
[Magic]: 110
[Psychic]: 96
[Defense]: 80
[Blood]: 1621 / 1760
[Mana]: 1030 / 1030
Ashtoreth grinned. It had taken barely any [Blood] at all to regenerate her wounds. She had plenty left.
Then she consumed her hellhound cores, hoping for a new level.
{You absorb 2 [Hellhound Core]; Tier 1. You are 44% of the way toward advancement}
“Oh right,” she said. “I don’t even gain levels.”
Levels would come only once she had a class. And to make a class, she’d need to choose three aspects to create it out of—they would determine what class she got, and how its progression worked.
What was more, because she was a high-ranked race, she’d probably have to advance her racial abilities a few times as she gathered her aspects. They’d be strong upgrades, but they’d also delay her eventual class.
And until she got her class, she wasn’t going to be gaining any stats.
Also, two hellhounds hadn’t been enough to get her first advancement. Not by half.
Since she wouldn’t be advancing, she instead decided to take a closer look at the only new ability she’d gotten, [Blood Drain]. It had come with having a [Blood] pool instead of [Health].
She read the skill:
[Blood Drain]
You can drink fresh blood to restore your [Blood]. If you would restore [Blood] over your maximum, it is converted into [Mana].
A living creature whose blood is drunk will have its stats reduced.
“Well that’s straightforward!” Ashtoreth said.
Straightforward, but powerful. [Mana] took two hours to regenerate to full. [Health] took an entire day, though potions, levels, and magic could restore it. [Health] could also take more than a minute to restore one’s wounds. [Blood], by contrast, had regenerated her much faster.
That, and she had 20 [Blood] per point of [Vitality] instead of 10 [Health]. Vampirism was a powerful racial augment indeed.
With [Blood] and [Blood Drain], she’d be able to speed through the tutorial, taking only minimal breaks between fights.
None of her other racial abilities had been altered. Right now, the important one was [Devour Flesh]:
[Devour Flesh]
Eating the flesh of a slain creature will grant you a bonus in each stat equal to 10% of the slain creature’s respective stat.
For each stat, you use only the highest possible bonus from all the flesh you’ve eaten.
The stat bonuses will begin to fade after 6 hours, completely fading after 12.
“Thanks for the meal!” she said as she cheerfully dragged one of the hellhound’s corpses back into her starting hallway. She tore a strip of flesh out of its slashed neck, then swallowed it in one gulp.
{You gain a [Devoured Flesh] buff: +4 STR, +4 AGI, +3 VIT, +3 DEF}
A warm feeling spread through her belly, but she wasn’t finished. She lowered her mouth to the gaping wound, intent on drinking some of the creature’s blood.