The wolfkin, named Erebus—at least that was the name he was willing to give—led Nathan down a labyrinth of twisting, narrow alleyways. The cobblestone paths were slick with recent rain, reflecting the dim, flickering light from the few lanterns that still functioned. The buildings leaned over them, their sagging wooden frames and rotting timbers casting ominous shadows. The deeper they went into the village’s underbelly, the more the stench of decay and unwashed bodies filled the air.

“The church and the government barely bother limiting what we do in these border towns,” Erebus explained, his voice low and gruff, almost blending with the night itself. His wolf-like features—a long snout, sharp teeth, and eyes that glowed faintly in the dark—lent him an air of both menace and mystery. His fur, a mottled gray, was slick from the rain, and his ears twitched at every distant sound. “It simply isn't worth their time or resources. But class-stones are different. The church has a monopoly on them, and that does much to preserve their power. Selling drugs or weapons isn’t enough for them to come down on us, but the truly rare stuff has to be kept safe. We keep it deep in the slums, rotating it around between different people, so it might take a while to get there. You holding on until then?”

Nathan, struggling to keep his mind focused, nodded. The angel’s tears were beginning to take a stronger hold on him, making everything seem slightly off-kilter, like the world was swaying beneath his feet. The shadows seemed darker, the noises more distant, and Erebus's voice seemed to come from far away.

“A wound like this won't actually kill me very fast,” Nathan replied, his voice strained. His face was pale, his lips cracked and dry. “And the drugs should keep me on my feet until I keel over. Won't be a problem.”

Erebus glanced at him, his eyes narrowing as if assessing how much longer Nathan could hold on. Without another word, he continued through the maze of alleyways. The buildings here were in even worse shape, with walls covered in creeping mold and windows that were either boarded up or shattered. Rats scurried underfoot, their eyes glinting in the dark as they darted between piles of refuse.

Erebus knocked on several doors along the way. The exchanges were brief, almost whispered, too quiet for Nathan to understand, spoken by voices muffled by thick walls.

Finally, Erebus turned to him. “Next stop is where the class-stone is. The people who have it aren’t actually part of the brokers; they just store it. They’re some heavy hitters in this town, though, and they don’t know you. So you just go in there with me, keep quiet, and choose your class. After that, I’ll bring you to a hideout where you can spend the night. A doctor will patch you up as best they can, and by tomorrow, you’ll be gone.”

They reached a door that was sturdier than the others, reinforced with iron plates and lined with glyphs that pulsed faintly in the dim light. Erebus knocked, and instead of the door opening, a small hatch slid aside, revealing a pair of sharp, suspicious eyes that glared out at them.

“Who’s the half-dead guy next to you, Erebus?” the woman behind the hatch demanded. Her voice was rough, carrying a hardened edge. “You know the boss doesn’t like you bringing new faces here.”

“Relax,” Erebus said, his tone smooth. “He’s a paying customer. I’ll get him to the class-stone, and by tomorrow, he’ll be out of town, and you’ll never see him again. Don’t even think about robbing him; everything valuable is with me. It isn’t worth the hassle.”

The woman grunted, clearly not pleased, but the hatch slid shut, and after a moment, the door creaked open. It revealed a small, dimly lit room, the walls lined with crude shelves holding an assortment of grimy bottles and strange trinkets. The air inside was thick with the smell of sweat, unwashed bodies, and something sweet and cloying—dream leaf, Nathan recognized with a twinge of distaste.

The woman who had let them in was a half-orc, towering over Nathan by a full head. Her skin was a dusky green, her hair a mass of thick, dark braids that fell to her waist. She wore only a leather harness across her chest, leaving her muscular torso bare. Her arms were like tree trunks, criss-crossed with scars and adorned with tribal tattoos that seemed to writhe in the low light. Across her back, a belt slung over one shoulder held an array of knives, each one polished to a deadly gleam.

Nathan blinked, trying to remember where he had seen those tattoos before, and murmured under his breath, “Stonecrushers, eh?”

The half-orc’s head snapped toward him, her yellow eyes narrowing. “What do you know of the tribes?” Her voice was low, dangerous, like a growl.

Nathan quickly held up his hands, palms out, in a placating gesture. “Nothing much, they pay just as well as humans, is all.”

She studied him for a moment longer, her gaze piercing, before giving a grunt of acceptance. There was still a hint of curiosity in her eyes, though, as if she were wondering whether Nathan was more than he appeared.

The room was lit by a single, sputtering oil lamp that cast long, flickering shadows on the walls. The smell of dream leaf was stronger here, mixed with the scent of cheap alcohol. A low, steady hum of conversation came from a room beyond, but it was muted, as though the walls themselves were swallowing the sound.

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“God, you smell like death,” the half-orc commented, wrinkling her nose. She gestured toward Nathan’s spear, a weapon that seemed almost out of place in the oppressive, claustrophobic environment. It took Nathan a moment to understand what she was asking, but once he did, he relinquished the weapon without protest.

The woman led them into an adjacent room, where a heavy, iron-bolted safe was mounted on the wall. The half-orc produced a key from a pouch at her waist and inserted it into the lock with a practised motion. The door swung open with a faint creak, revealing a collection of gemstones and other objects that glimmered faintly in the dim light.

Nathan caught a glimpse of the contents—gems of various sizes and colours, some pulsing with an inner light, others dull and inert. There were also strange artefacts, the purpose of which he couldn’t begin to guess at in his current state. The half-orc reached in and retrieved a single stone, rectangular and unremarkable in appearance, though Nathan could feel the latent power radiating from it.

“Come over here to use it. This doesn’t leave my hands,” she commanded, her voice brooking no argument. Nathan nodded and stepped forward, placing his hand on the class-stone.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then the stone flared with a sudden, intense heat, and the world around Nathan dissolved into a void. He found himself floating in an endless black space, surrounded by blocks of text that glowed softly in the dark.

He took a moment to reorient himself, knowing that time flowed differently here—he wouldn’t be rushed into making a choice. The pain that had been gnawing at him was gone, and the fog from the drugs lifted, leaving his mind clear for the first time in what felt like hours.

Let’s get to it, then.

All around him floated blocks of text, each one describing a different class. Nathan already knew what he was looking for, but he would still take his time, ensuring he found exactly what he needed.

He began reading the descriptions one by one, the text glowing softly in the dark void.

Wanderer

Aspects: Endurance, Vision, Swiftness, Balance, Speed, Steadiness …

Unique Resource: None

Stats: +1 Con +1 Per

A class focussed on the traversing of difficult terrain, allowing you to visit any place, keeping both the dangerous aspects of nature, as well as flora and fauna at bay.

Not this one.

Hunter

Aspects: Stealth, Concealment, Swiftness, Spear, Endurance …

Unique Resource: None

Stats: +1 Ref +1 Per

A physical class focussed on stalking your prey and staying undetected, making you an unseen shadow until the moment you decide to strike.

Next one.

Outlaw

Aspects: Stealth, Concealment, Murder, Assassination, Speed …

You kill a couple guards and the system throws a fit. Typical.

Soldier

Aspects: Discipline, Endurance, Weapon, Spear, Sword …

He had left that part of himself behind on earth.

Merchant

Aspects: Wealth, Transport, Safety, Charisma, Trade …

Woodsman

Aspects: Stealth, Foraging, Swiftness, Knife, Endurance …

Spearman

Aspects: Strength, Reach, Swiftness, Defence, Hardness, Glory …

Unique Resource: None

Stats: +1 Con +1 Ref

A physical combat class fully focused around the mastery of the spear. This class offers no ephemeral skills, focussing solely on strengthening the body and the art of war.

Ah there it is. “I choose the class Spearman with the aspect of swiftness.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nathan felt a surge of power unlike anything he had experienced in this timeline. It was as if the very essence of the spear was pouring into him, filling every fibre of his being. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened, and he felt more solid, more real, than ever before.

Congratulations, Nathan Andrews.

You have chosen the Spearman – Swiftness class

You have been granted the Skill: Art of the Spear

You have been granted the Skill: Swift Footwork

Nathan knew he had only a little time left before he would be thrown out of this space, back into reality with all the aches and pains that entailed. But there was still time for one last thing.

“Status,” he intoned.

Name: Nathan Andrews

Title: None

Class: Spearman - Swiftness [5]

Stats

Con: 16

Per: 13

Reg: 10

Ref: 15

Free Points: 1

Skills

Art of the Spear – The spear is no longer just a weapon like any other for you. When wielding a spear, your movements become more refined, your mind moves faster, and your attacks are more accurate.

Swift Footwork – Positioning is the essence of combat. When wielding a spear, your steps will be faster, without losing any surety.

Perks

Lone Wolf – The User can no longer form or join any parties, clans, or organizations. The user’s stats are reduced by 50% if not alone in combat. Upon death, the user’s soul is erased in all timelines.

“Huh, must have missed the level-up after the fight with Brand. Put my free point into perception.”

One last tingle went through Nathan's body before the space around him shattered, and he found himself standing in the dark, oppressive room in the slums once more.

The air was thick, the stench of decay and smoke overwhelming, but Nathan felt a new strength in his limbs, a clarity in his mind that had been absent before.