The fish scattered the instant that the bait broke the surface, but quickly decided that the disturbance wasn’t anything they needed to worry about. They were intrigued by the worm writhing on the end of the line, and after a few cautious passes, the fish began to nibble. Resisting the urge to pull on the pole too soon, Nick waited until he felt a solid bite before yanking on the rod and reeling for all he was worth.
The fish were heavy for their size, and he was afraid that the line wouldn’t hold, but his fears proved to be unfounded. Twenty seconds later, he hauled a fat fish out of the water, flopping around on the end of his hook and casting a spray of droplets into the air.
He wasn’t quite sure what to do next. After a moment of contemplation, Nick set the rod on the ground, trapped the fish beneath his boot, and decapitated it with his dagger, offering the animal a silent apology. He worked the hook out of its mouth, reset his rod, and tried again.
Half an hour later, he had four fish sitting beside him and the rest had stopped biting, deciding that whatever was going on, it was nothing they wanted any part of.
He was pleased with his haul and after making sure that nothing dangerous had arrived while he was busy, he built himself a small cookfire. He cleaned and gutted his catch, stuck a stick through the fish fillets, and got busy grilling, pleased that he was getting better at living off the land over time.
The fish proved to be tasty and filling, and after polishing off two of them, Nick put the rest into his pack for a late snack or early dinner. He walked for another ten miles after lunch, enjoying his peaceful day. He was certain that the moment of calm wouldn’t last long, and he was wise enough not to take it for granted.
Even still, it was good to unwind, letting some tension out of his muscles as he devoured the miles beneath his boots.
He chose to camp early in the evening, after finding a large tree that had been hollowed out by a lightning strike long ago. The cavity was big enough for Nick to fit comfortably inside and it would go a long way toward concealing his presence. After spending a few minutes inspecting and maintaining his gear, he decided to get in a lengthy strength building session before hitting the hay.
Nick hadn’t been able to raise many attributes via conditioning since setting foot onto the bog, but he sensed that he was getting close to increasing his strength. He realized that he was gradually becoming more attuned to the various new energies infused within his body.
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Acquiring fewer baseline improvements through exercise wasn’t surprising at this stage of his development, since his toughness and dexterity had entered the range where it was difficult to break through from exertion alone. The System had told him those last few points were normally acquired through intense, life and death situations. He knew that he would get them sooner or later, since deadly threats were never in short supply for the defenders of Earth.
But Nick’s strength could still go up another two points before it entered that range. Thus, he had decided to shift his daily workout to emphasize strength training until it did. Letting out a sleepy yawn, he made a final survey of the area before calling it a day.
By now, the moon had risen over the rim of the crater containing the bog. It was just a hair shy of being full, and would be perfectly round by tomorrow night. When his gaze landed upon it, his eyes went wide with surprise and the hairs on his neck rose to stand on end. Something isn’t right.
Normally, Drezen’s moon was silver and bright, but tonight it was different. Its diameter was half again as large as it had been the night before. The phenomenon was bizarre enough by itself, but Nick supposed that in a multiverse packed to the brim with strange magic, the old rules of physics were suggestions rather than laws.
However, it wasn’t the moon’s inexplicable growth that had him worried, but its color. Instead of being the same radiant silver as his mana darts, tonight, its surface was tinted pink. As if someone had poured a drop of crimson ink into a clear pond. The ring of light around the moon was reddish too, granting it an aura like it was wreathed in blood.
More than just the unsettling color, when he looked up at the moon, Nick felt a pervasive sense of wrongness. An impression of otherworldly danger unlike anything he had experienced before. In that moment, he was overcome with a premonition that something dark and foul was looming on the horizon. That something terrible was on its way, and would arrive the next time the moon rose.
Acting on instinct, Nick tried sizing up the moon, feeling a bit silly about the whole thing. But to his surprise, the skill let loose a resounding peal of danger, a clear warning that something deadly was brewing after all. Ok, that can’t be good. I’ll try to find cover early tomorrow.
When he was done gazing at the sky, he stepped inside the hollow trunk, set a pair of alarm traps across the entrance, and closed his eyes. Given the strange and ominous sign he’d just witnessed, he wasn’t ready to pass out just yet.
Nick spent the next few hours refining his plans, tweaking various strategies, and engaging in the purely visual version of his shadow boxing before drifting off into dreams, wondering what the next day would bring and the night that would follow.