Blomdorf's grief-stricken howl was heard a quarter-mile away by the bandits at camp. The sound easily traveled at least a mile from its point of origin, which was an impressive feat considering the dense woodland. Of the dozen or so bandits, only his brother Mentiroso and the bandit captain, Ripper, had ever heard the oafish giant produce a similar sound, and that was only once before.

Unlike Ripper himself, few under his command had ever registered as adventurers. As such, they had never acquired the skills and proficiencies or professional aid required to unlock distinct classes beyond the rogue archetype their occupation naturally availed them. Most, however, like Blomdorf and his brother, were typically unclassed bandits. They had a collection of skills and attributes that reflected their experience, but would always be limited for not having a class. That wasn't to say that unclassed bandits were weak, but they were only marginally stronger than your everyday civilian and would never compete with enlightened whose unlocked job classes provided a boost to their skills and attributes along with the training that said classes typically reflected.

Having been an adventurer for several years before his taste and penchant for illegal and violent activities got him expelled, Ripper had seen much. He had unlocked the fighter and rogue classes and specialized in great axe wielding. He wasn't a barbarian class, however, despite its common association with his weapon of choice. Ripper had worked on at least a few occasions with barbarians, and so was familiar enough with the hallmark rage skill that was unique to their class. The first time he witnessed Blom-Blom's howl, he recognized it as the activation of said skill. It had surprised him as he had never heard of an unclassed enlightened develop the skill, which meant that Blomdorf must have unlocked the barbarian class without any formal training. It was not as uncommon as Ripper believed, but something he believed impossible at the time. And so after the incedent, he didn't think much of it beyond making a note never to piss the giant human off.

Indeed, Blomdorf had unlocked both the rage skill and barbarian class simultaneously without really understanding what he was doing. It happened when Blom-Blom stumbled upon a bandit molesting a child. He had become so incensed, an explosion of rage and sound erupted from the depth of his being, activating the skill and unlocking the class. This was why it had had taken so many people to subdue the enraged giant that day, and why he had managed to wound so many without even trying, flailing around in his blind and uncontrolled rage. Rage was a skill that increased many of a barbarian's attributes and resistances at the expense of mental acuity. It was a tradeoff that cost the user's ability to use magic or higher order thinking in exchange for power and durability. To see it employed by a near-giant like Blomdorf was terrifying to say the least.

Ripper didn't have Blom-Blom's sense of morality at all. He had indulged his sexual urges of younger prey a time or two in the past, though it wasn't his preference. He liked his women full-grown and eager to fight. Despite his own moral sensibilities, however, the bandit captain recognized the threat Blomdorf posed and had ordered his men to treat the children they had captured with respect. Ripper also made sure that none in his current party had been witness to the original incident as those who had seen Blomdorf's episode were comfortable working with him.

Blomdorf's rage howl was different this time than his first.

Ripper didn't know how it was different, but he recognized the effect it had on his surroundings. His danger sense skill was not particularly of high level, but he didn't need it to hear the creatures in the surrounding area become agitated and respond in kind. He had a feeling they might be neck deep in monsters soon. The monsters that spawned in this area were fairly low level for him, but killing things was fun and the training it would offer his surviving crew would make them stronger, and by extension, would make his gang more powerful. The bandit captain was looking forward to doing just that.

"Let's get to killing things boys!" Ripper shouted, and the men following him hooted and hollered as they followed him to battle.

***

Meanwhile, just beyond the riverbank where the sand turned to grass, a cambion completed the final stages of his transformation and opened his new-and-improved cobalt eyes. He beheld a large human who he had never seen before but who, thanks to his recently absorbed memories, he recognized instantly.

Upon discovering the remains of Mr. Blinky half-eaten on the ground, Blmodorf's grief-filled shout caused the air to vibrate, forcing the cambion to take a step back. As the big man's eyes set upon the bloody apparition of his beloved's killer, Blomdorf's rage reached new depths and the oaf unwittingly unlocked and employed a new skill.

Blomdorf's rage howl reached a deeper pitch of fury and the very ground shook. The earth's sudden tremor did not last long, but it was enough to startle countless birds in the area that squawked in distress and sprung into the sky. Truly, the forest itself seemed to echo Blom's scream as all prey animals in the area simultaneously decided it would be a good idea to get the hell out of dodge.

Blom's almost supernatural shout expended itself, followed by a deep breath and a regular run-of-the-mill really-loud shout, followed by Blomdorf’s furious charge.

"I'LL KIIIIIILLLL YOUUU!" the enraged human shouted.

In a few quick strides, his massive bulk and cocked fist descended on the cambion, who had yet to truly understand what he was witnessing.

From the cambion's perspective, his best friend, who he had never seen before and whose name he was struggling to remember, had shot out of the trees and then produced a terrifying noise. Now someone he never imagined was capable of hurting him was racing toward him in an unpleasantly aggressive manner.

The cambion's memories connected and he spoke the name aloud.

"Blom-Blom...?" the cambion said aloud. His voice was a terrified child's voice and was almost a murmur, but it was loud enough that the enraged Blomdorf heard it.

Hearing his nickname from this foreign creature spoken with such innocence gave him pause, but it wasn't enough to stop him. Nothing could stop his momentum as his fist was already on-route to collide with the smallish murderer's head.

Soft cobalt feline eyes met Blomdorf’s dark brown eyes, infused with murderous intent.

Survival instinct kicked in, and the cambion sprang backwards. At least, he tried to spring backwards. He shut his eyes and jumped, but instead of moving himself backwards and away from the path of what was certainly a mortal fist, he found himself underwater and being carried away by the river's current. He was flooded with both the sensation of cold and a newfound hatred of water, along with the terrible realization that he could not swim.

From Blomdorf's point of view, the world had literally just gone topsy turvy.

He had charged then swung wildly at the smallish bloody creature, but the creature had not moved. Not until the last moment and by then it should have been too late. ‘

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Blomdorf wasn't all that smart, but he was still fast for his size and had plenty of experience smashing things (and people) with his fists. He had had that familiar certainty that his fist would connect.

Even if he had hesitated slightly at hearing his own name which kept him from putting his whole heart into the blow, he had known without a shadow of a doubt his swing was true. And yet, the instant when he should have felt his knuckles connect, his blue-eyed quarry vanished before his very eyes.

The lack of expected physical resistance against his fist, and the surprise of his vanishing target caused him to lose balance and overextend himself. This resulted in his body performing an unintentional and incomplete somersault. He landed hard on his tailbone, his back complaining loudly with a cacophony of unpleasant cracks.

"OwwwWWWWah!" the dazed near-giant complained. The sudden pain and unreality of the last few seconds halted his murderous intent long enough for him to rub a couple of his brain cells together.

What just happened? Blomdorf asked himself. His anger and despair were not completely abated, but now there was an incomprehensible tiny seed of hope in his chest. The number of logical connections necessary for the intellectually challenged Blomdorf to arrive at any reasonable conclusion to explain the events of the past thirty seconds were beyond the capabilities for the confused giant.

And yet, there were those blue eyes, though. Blomdorf knew those eyes. How many hours had he spent looking into those eyes as they inexplicably stared back at him with their perfect childlike curiosity?

The moment Blomdorf’s target had disappeared, there had been a nearly imperceptible shimmer and quiet whoomf. It was the exact thing that that happened whenever Mr. Blinky used blink teleport. How could Mr. Blinky's killer have the same eyes and the same blink teleport power?

"Blom-Blom, HELP!" a voice from inside the water cried.

This snapped Blomdorf out of his painful process of thinking. His eyes scanned the surface of the water for the source of the voice, and he spotted it.

It was the smallish creature... no, not a creature... a child!

The boy splashed wildly as he struggled to keep his head above the water. It was clear he couldn't swim and was being slowly pulled farther upstream by the quickening current. Even Blomdorf could tell that if he didn’t get help, the boy would surely drown.

"Please... Bl... Blom!" it was all the child could do to peek his mouth above the waterline long enough to plead for succor.

This served to sober Blomdorf completely from his anger. It wasn't that the oafish giant understood what was going on; he still felt the pang of believing his best friend was dead. But, his natural desire to help and protect children was too great to compete with something as comparably petty as revenge.

"I'm... I'm coming!" Blomdorf shouted as he spryly got to his feet, pain in his tailbone forgotten. He was tall enough that he could still sprint a good way into the water before it got too deep. He ignored the water's frigid bite and the drag from his now soaked trousers and boots. He waded through the water until it reached his chest, keeping his arms stretched out to the drowning child.

The fact that Blomdorf couldn't swim either never occurred to him as he single mindedly willed himself to reach the boy before the current pulled him out of reach.

Both the boy and Blomdorf were both fully submerged by the time their outstretched fingers touched. The boy clasped desperately onto the giant's fingers with an iron grip enabling his savior to pull him close and then lift him by the shoulders out of the water.

The cambion sputtered and coughed, then quit his reckless thrashing when he realized he could breathe. Blomdorf was fully submerged but steadily fighting the current as he walked along the river bottom toward the shore. It felt like a long time had passed by the time the giant's thick lips broke the surface of the water and he gulped a lungful of air. His deep breath made an odd trilling sound, like someone trying to sing by breathing in reverse. The awful sound was followed by a loud satisfied gasp of delight.

Or, perhaps these raspy “Ahhhh” noises were actually groans of effort, as the giant expended significantly more energy now than he had on his way out. Now he was fighting against the current instead of using it to his advantage to reach his target. It was slow going.

Eventually, after what seemed like an excruciatingly long time, a soaked Blomdorf stepped clear of the water and onto the riverbank. His eyes were closed, as they had been for the last few minutes likely due to the strain of walking upstream against a strong current. It had taxed the giant's stamina. When he finally stopped walking, he just stood there, dripping. He still held the naked cambion over his head as he had the entire duration of the trip.

"Excuse me, uh... Blom-Blom," said the cambion, feeling entirely too vulnerable as he was, with his exposed crotch uncomfortably close to another man's face.

"What?" Blomdorf asked stupidly as he opened his eyes and looked up at the cambion, still panting heavily. The exercise of walking out of the river had been especially difficult for the frequency with which the ground shifted and the giant lost ground as his body was pushed downstream, forcing him to repeatedly hold his breath for long intervals as he found his footing and worked his way back. Despite his strength and relatively high endurance, he was thoroughly exhausted.

"Could you please put me down, maybe?"

"Oh," answered the oaf, doing just that. “Yeah, sorry.”

He set the cambion down gently, then crumpled to the floor in a heap, his rapid breath suddenly beginning to wheeze.

"Blom-Blom, you're hyperventilating," the cambion said. "You need to slow you're breathing or bad things can happen to you. Try taking deep breaths and then letting them out slowly, as slow as you can, okay? It will help you get your breathing and your heart rate under control. Then you won't feel like you're dying anymore."

This is dumb. I can remember the effects of overoxygenating your blood stream but I can't remember how to swim? Oh! Wait for it! I just remembered something else. I know CPR... That's bullshit. Why can I remember swimming but I don't know how to swim?

Blom-Blom did as he was told and attempted to regulate his breathing.

While the big human was otherwise occupied, the cambion took the time to study his new body.

The cambion looked down and discovered, to his surprise, that he was indeed much changed. He was still more or less the same size as he had been last night, but he could tell he had undergone a radical transformation. Especially compared to what he recalled of his countenance thanks to the unfortunate Mr. Blinky’s memories.

His skin had been pale, pink and veiny, which had been kind of gross. His face had been hideous. Looking at his hands and down at his body now, he was hoping the transformation included his face, but until he had access to a mirror, he would just have to wait.

The cambion’s new flesh was lightly tanned with blue undertones. There was a layer of slight fuzz that covered his arms, neck and some of his back. Along the backs of his hands and up his lean but defined arms, the flesh under his fuzz had a dusky striped pattern reminiscent of the mackerel tabby that had once been Mr. Blinky.

The padding on his palms and feet was also changed. These were thick and greyish pink, the texture reminding him of all things, of a cat's paws. Meanwhile his fingernails felt oddly shaped and firm. There were tight bands of tiny muscles around his knuckles that hadn’t been there before, When he flexed them, he discovered he could unsheathe a set of brand-new retractable claws which clicked into place.

These should come in handy. Wait, how do I make them go away now?

The cambion almost panicked at the thought that he would be stuck with permanent claw hands, but quickly discovered that flexing his new knuckle muscles in just the right way caused them to retract. He tested this ability a few more times having entirely too much fun before he realized something was amiss.

"Hey Blom-Blom," the cambion said, his voice a little nervous. "Are you okay yet? I need you to be okay."

Something in the boy's voice belied a need for urgency and the giant sat up.

"What's wrong?" Blomdorf asked. He was still breathing heavily but his condition was much improved.

The cambion had just realized there were more changes to his own body than his appearance and the inclusion of a cat's claws. His senses had also been enhanced greatly, and what his sensitive ears had just picked up along with the scents that followed were equally troubling.

The cambion felt an odd twitch on the side of his head and he reflexively reached a hand to touch it. He was startled to discover a brand-new fuzzy cat ear poking out of a freshly grown crop of wet curly fur. He had no time to contemplate his sudden un-baldness or his new ears.

"Something is coming this way," the cambion said, feeling his hackles rise along with a distinctly cat-like groan rising from his chest. "Make that a lot of somethings, and they're not friendly. I don't know what they are, but they smell like predators."