> “General Corentus, herein is enclosed a brief report on the recent ‘Goliath’ brood, as requested.
>
> Repeated surgeries have successfully managed to limit the intelligence of new subjects. Applications of blood magic have allowed this change to become a permanent trait, removing the need for such a risky operation in future broods. An unintended side effect has been increased aggression in subjects, leading to more frequent infighting. The witch-doctors assured me it was controllable with the use of slave crests. Experiments with time magic have also allowed the rates of reproduction and growth to be increased significantly. Minor changes have included elongated tusks, increased bone density, greater muscle mass, and a hunched posture more suited to a beast of war. Additionally, nails have been sharpened into claws, though most still prefer fists. Attempts to alter nose shape have been met with continued failure. Overall, the ‘Goliath’ project seems to have made great progress. There are currently 12 of the most recent breed at maturity, and 45 of older breeds leftover.
>
> As an afterthought, some of the witch-doctors have given the beasts a nickname. They call them ‘Ogres.’
— Report of an unknown officer to Moren Corentus, Imperial General, 32 years into Aldiir’s Crusade.
The document is hidden deep within the halls of Verida Palace, yellowed and cracked with age. Few remember it exists.
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Cain made note of the claw marks on the fence posts they passed. They were thin and short, but deep in places. Once, he also saw a rock in their path that had white lines scratched into it. Most of what he saw was likely from long before the time of the contract he’d taken, but it would be nice to know what to look for in his surroundings. Still, I hope Magira has some skill or other experience that can help us track the lynx. His thoughts wandered over to Magira for a moment. She said her home was in the forest on the other side of that mountain… Cain looked up at the distant peak of Mount Silim. It was a rather ordinary mountain, but one side was remarkably sheer, as though part of the mountain had sloughed off in some avalanche or another. It looked like traveling to the other side would be quite a long journey. Maybe look into magical means of transportation? I doubt they have cars here, after all…
Cain felt eyes on him, and turned his head slightly to the left to meet Magira’s eyes. He didn’t know exactly what to say, so he just gave a feeble attempt at a smile and then looked back to the road. He could listen in on her thoughts to pass the time, but felt he’d already done plenty of that before they left. It wasn’t his goal to annoy her. What else can I occupy myself with? There was magic, but it was better if he didn’t do anything too involved. He didn’t want to get overly distracted, or wear himself out right before a fight with an enemy he knew little about. Could he strike up conversation? Unlikely — he’d already exhausted his list of job-related questions for Magira. Everything else was more personal in nature, and again, he didn’t want to annoy her. Cain reached under a shoulder pad and pulled out the folded parchment he’d stowed there.
_INDIVIDUAL CONTRACT_
_CONTRACTOR : Wellum Shepard & Co._
_REWARD : Thirty Copper Coins_
_TASK : Hunt one Spiny Lynx_
_Shepard and several other ranchers have reported_
_livestock being slaughtered and carried away by a_
_beast likely living somewhere in the highlands to_
_the west. Shepard has claimed the tracks left are_
_those of a Spiny Lynx. Thirty coppers will be paid_
_to whoever returns with the beast’s front-left paw,_
_with an additional five coppers for the paws of any_
_cubs it may have been rearing if the lair is found._
Approved by the Adventurer’s Guild (Fellgrave Regional Branch)
It didn’t look like he’d missed anything on the contract. It did strike him that the pay was rather good. The contract listed ‘Shepard & Co.,’ so it was probably Shepard and some of the other ranchers mentioned splitting the cost of the commission between themselves. If Cain had to guess, based on the prices of daily necessities like food… a single iron coin would be two or three week’s wages for a decent job. Maybe five to seven weeks for the others. Being able to earn half an iron in a single day seemed pretty lucrative, on that scale. That said, he could easily see jobs like this becoming multi-day affairs. Some of the earnings would also go towards buying and maintaining the proper gear, and adventuring could be a pretty dangerous job if the Flutewood was anything to go on. I guess adventurers basically are glorified monster hunters. They take care of dangerous jobs for above-average pay, and the guild tries to sell it as an ‘adventure.’
…
Cain was out of things to think about again.
Maybe he should revisit magic. No strenuous experiments, of course. Mostly just theory. He had a blood aspect, which he could only use for healing so far as he knew. Next was fire; raw destructive power, plain and simple. Maybe a light source in a pinch. But Cain had a light aspect too, even though he suspected it was a lot weaker than his fire. Light and darkness had felt different when he’d used them to hide himself. He had poison, but he didn’t know how he could use that other than for training his attributes yet. Then there was water, which he could use to create cool water, boiling water, or ice. Oh, and time. He could… do something with it? It had felt really weird — he would put off experimenting with that for a while. The only aspects that seemed to offer offensive capabilities were water and fire, and water was the only one that seemed to provide any defense. Having ice walls as his only means of protecting himself seemed risky. Is there any way I can use my existing aspects to provide an extra layer of protection?
A memory surfaced; Fernald summoned a small barrier of darkness that stopped some of Cain’s icicles. If it was possible to use his darkness aspect to not only create shadows, but create tangible shadows, that would open up entirely new options for both offense and defense. He drew mana from his fingers and formed it into a ball between his hands, then willed it to become a ball of pure shadow. Immediately, the sphere darkened until Cain could only faintly see to the other side of it. Interestingly, the phenomenon affected both his mana sight and his ordinary eyesight. He held it in place with one hand and tried to touch it with the other; the hand passed through unimpeded. Solidify. The ball darkened further, becoming an inky void his eyesight couldn’t penetrate. It also fell into his hands.
Cain was happy until he discovered he couldn’t manipulate the solid shadow anymore. Its form was rigid, no longer possessing the fluidity of the mana it was made from. He rolled the ball around in his hands, studying the feel. It was perfectly smooth, and seemed cold to the touch. When he pressed or squeezed, there was no give. He scratched at it, but couldn’t seem to damage it in any way. After a moment of wondering what to do with it, he realized that it should still be made of his mana. Dispel. Cain watched the shadow vanish into nothingness, taking with it the mana Cain had spent on it. With how quickly he produced it though, it was an inconsequential amount.
Cain’s view opened up as they crested a small ridge. The terraced farmland and fencing gave way to empty terrain, which sloped gently downwards for a while before the incline began again. Coarse soil, stringy grasses, gravel, and the occasional larger rock were the most prominent features of the landscape. The generic chirps of the birds that nested in and around the farms faded, and were replaced by the long, cooing notes of whatever birds nested in the grasses here. Guess I should start paying attention now.
Cain turned to look at Magira. “Do you have any skills that would help find this thing?”
“I do, yeah. It’s only lesser, but I have a tracking skill from following my mother on hunting trips. If we find tracks left behind, I can tell what made them and if they’re within two-hundred meters of us.”
“Thank goodness,” he exhaled. “I have absolutely nothing that can help outside of combat.”
“I thought as much,” Magira said. “It sounds like all you’ve been doing since you got here is fighting things. You probably haven’t had a chance to develop any of the more practical skills.”
Cain considered asking more about skills, but elected to save it for later. He should just look for tracks and point out any he saw. He went back to scanning the surroundings, looking for any sign his quarry had passed through. All he saw was rocks, dirt, and the occasional bird taking flight from a patch of tall, fibrous grass. The sun’s light had shifted from the golden-yellow of the morning to the colorless glare of the rest of the day. There were only a few wispy clouds to offer cover from its rays, but even what little heat penetrated the pre-winter chill was soaked up by Cain’s cloak. He saw a few markings in the dirt road they were walking, but they looked like the tracks of a small bird. Nothing even close to resembling a paw print. A chilly breeze blew from the west, lightly stinging his eyes.
“Hey, I see something,” called Magira.
Cain turned his head.
“There are tracks by that rock. They belong to a spiny lynx.” Magira pointed at an ordinary rock, which stood out from its fellows only because it stood taller than the rest, as if one of the other rocks had been stood up on its side.
“You’ve got seniority. Lead on.”
Magira nodded and led him off the road towards the tracks. As they left the road, Cain began having to pay slightly more attention to his footsteps, for fear of tripping on a loose rock. They slowed to a stop before the poor man’s monolith, and Magira spent a moment examining the tracks. Cain’s eyes gleaned little from them; just that they belonged to a cat of some sort and seemed to be heading south. Magira at least concurred with the latter, and began walking south. Cain fell in behind her. Between the two of us, we actually have pretty good skills for this. Magira can track the prints within two-hundred meters, and Self-Awareness will let me know if anything gets within twenty-seven meters of us. Against an ambush predator, such forewarning was a godsend.
‘Good to know. We’re not within two-hundred meters yet, but I’m going to talk using telepathy anyway. The closer we get, the less sound we’ll want to make.’
‘Noted. I’ve also noticed that the link doesn’t feel as weird as it did when we first got it. Any clue why?’
‘There was a pair in my tribe that had telepathy runes, so yes. Telepathy is apparently just one of those things that feels really weird for the first day or so, and then it gets more natural as your mind gets used to it.’
‘That makes more sense now. Thanks, Magira.’
‘You’re welcome, Cain. I’m going to focus on tracking again now.’
Cain went back to loosely focusing on his surroundings to avoid distracting her. The rocks were a bit larger now that they were away from the road. A bird made him jump slightly by chirping at the top of its lungs as he walked past the patch of grass it was landed in. A moth fluttered around in front of him for a moment before moving on. The breeze brushed past him again, but now that he was facing south, the cold air didn’t sting his eyes quite as much. Other than the rustling of dry grass and the occasional birdsong, the walk was quiet. Were it not for his nerves, Cain might have enjoyed himself.
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‘Two-hundred meters. Be ready.’
Cain tensed. He pulled a shadow out from under a nearby rock and formed it into the loose shape of a sword. Solidify. He tested the edge with his thumb; it would suffice. The knives he was carrying would be sharper, but the lack of reach might be difficult to work with. He held the near-weightless weapon at waist height in both hands, tip gently angled towards the ground. He made sure to pour all his focus into Self-Awareness, scrutinizing every errant pebble for any trace of ill intent. They followed the lynx’s trail into a shallow ditch with wide walls that barely came up past Cain’s head. Magira came to a sudden stop in front of him.
‘The tracks end here. There don’t seem to be any scratches or scuff marks on the walls either…’
A blur of movement entered Cain’s awareness, speeding towards him like a bullet. In a knee-jerk reflex, he brought up the makeshift sword and swung backwards, letting the motion turn him to face his foe. For a split-second, his vision was filled with razor-like claws and bone-crushing teeth — and then the thing slammed chest-first into his sword’s edge.
The force of the impact still sent Cain tumbling back, nearly toppling Magira as well, though the lynx only managed to rake its claws across his armor rather than sinking them into his cloaked backside. The shadow blade snapped with the collision and dispersed, but as Cain recovered himself, he saw that it had scored a deep wound across the spiny lynx’s chest. Its gray coat, speckled with beige-brown spots at the limbs, stained red as it bled profusely from the gash through its front. The spines on its back were an unassuming bone-white, with small fins of muscle at the base that seemed to allow them to fold back against the spinal column. Magira yelped in alarm, and the lynx let out a wet sputter as it tried to get up.
As Cain stumbled to his feet, he drew the hunting knife from his side. The lynx kicked against the ground, but could barely move its forelegs. He held the knife up to his abdomen, facing down, and then fell into a kneel as he plunged it into the lynx’s neck. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilt as he pulled the blade free — cats were cute. Lynxes especially, with the tufts of fur sticking up from their ears and the fluffy dress-shirt collars on their necks. Wait, a collar…?
He turned to Magira, who was leaning against the wall of the ditch, staring at the lynx with wide eyes. “Hey, is this—”
----------------------------------------
[ Body Attribute Manifested : Durability ]
Increases the hardness and strength of the entity’s hard tissues without decreasing flexibility. Slightly increases the shock absorption of the entity’s hard tissues. (Current Value: 13)
Cain was on the ground. He tried to move, and everything hurt. Panic gripped him instantly, and he began shouting ‘heal!’ at his mana. Dozens of bones popped and snapped back into place, sending stabbing pains up and down his… everything. He groaned loudly and began trying push himself upright halfway through the healing process, and out of the corner of his eye, saw a towering silhouette. He felt its footfalls in his ribs as it lumbered slowly forward. It seemed only narrowly able to fit between the walls of the ditch, and seemed easily one-and-a-half times its height. Cain coughed up blood and mucus, barely managing to stagger to his feet.
The result was that he got a better look at the beast in front of him. Dark green skin wrapped an immensely muscular frame, which was fitted with two legs and four arms. Long, bone-white tusks protruded from the lower jaw, nearly reaching the onyx-black eyes. The figure walked in a hunched stance akin to a gorilla’s, though it used its lower set of arms to balance itself against the walls. A tangled mess of dried vines and long bones was loosely tied around its waist, providing only moderate coverage of the groin. Its face was slightly scrunched, with a relatively small button-nose providing stark contrast to its defined brows. The skull seemed more angular than a human’s, with a more prominent jaw and a brain cavity farther back than a human’s. Coarse, relatively thin gray hair fell over either side of its face, reaching somewhat past the uppermost shoulders. It let out a rumbling growl as it continued its approach, glaring a look of pure hatred at Cain.
Cain got ready to throw as much fire at the thing as he could, despite his body’s protests.
Magira interrupted by lunging at the beast’s leg, knife in hand. It slid off harmlessly with an audible scraping sound; Magira lost her balance and fell. As Cain’s final few bones mended themselves, the giant glanced at her — then turned its attention back to him. Although, to Cain’s horror, it lifted a lazy arm above Magira. Any moment, it would slam its hand down and squash her against the ground like a bug. He staggered forward, breaking into an unbalanced run. The beast in front of him tensed and lowered its stance.
I’m running out of time…
Its hand raised higher.
Not enough time…!
Magira pushed herself to her feet.
I need more time!
Cain’s world warped, and everything slowed to a crawl. The giant’s arm swung down at a snail’s pace, but Cain was moving at a snail’s pace even relative to that. All he could do was watch as the thing inched closer to killing Magira. I’m still running out of time! The world slowed even further, and Cain could barely tell he was moving. He knew it was still slower than the giant, though. I need to move faster. A pulse shot through his mana, filling his limbs with a strange buzzing sensation. He moved just the slightest bit quicker than before, but it still wasn’t enough. Faster. Another pulse. The buzzing intensified. Faster…! His body pulsed again, and the buzzing was so intense it almost felt like his limbs had gone numb. Faster! This time, pain shot through him. The buzzing was now a throbbing ache in all of his muscles. But he moved faster.
His movements were still like moving through syrup, but it was fast enough to beat the giant. He took each painfully slow step as quickly as his legs could be persuaded. He felt his mana burning away, thinning by the relative second, but he’d have enough. He beelined straight for Magira, hoping to get her out of harm’s way. He tried to slow himself as he neared, but found inertia opposing him. His momentum would carry him forward with or without his consent. Panicking somewhat, he pivoted. Instead of launching himself at Magira, he’d launch himself at the spot between the giant’s upper and lower shoulder joints.
He bent his legs in slow-motion, then kicked off with as much force as he could muster. Now he was sailing slowly through the air towards the body of the giant. What can I attack it with? He needed something forceful enough to knock the giant back, or at least something to disable the lower arm. He didn’t think either his fire or ice spells would cut it, so his best option was to form a shadow weapon and try to jam it into the joint. He brought his hands in front of him and formed a barbed spear between them, burning a little more of his mana. Solidify. Where Magira’s knife hadn’t even scratched the giant’s tough skin, the tip of Cain’s spear willingly pierced the green flesh, no doubt due to the absurd speed he was likely moving at. Speaking of which…
Cain brought his knees in front of him as the spear slid deeper into the beast’s shoulder. The impact would likely break all his bones for a second time, but it was the best alternative to tumbling end-over-end through the air until he was ground to paste against a rock. What if the spear isn’t enough, though? His first priority was to save Magira. The giant’s strength could likely snap the spear with ease, so he’d be counting on the transferred momentum to do all the heavy lifting. What else can I use? As Cain’s knees landed against the giant’s shoulder, he racked his brain for anything he could still use. His mana burned away steadily.
Poison. If he could poison his weapon… Cain could use the paralysis poison he’d tested on himself to make the thing’s arm seize up. Magira couldn’t do much to it though, and he was likely to be out of the fight momentarily. He felt his legs begin to crunch against the massive body of his foe. He needed something that at least had a chance to take the giant out of the fight too. Something that could kill. He focused on the weapon buried deep in his enemy’s flesh. Crimson blood was beginning to leak from the point of entry. Paralysis poison. He felt the shadow shift beneath his fingers, and hoped that meant it had worked. It had taken a good chunk of his remaining mana. Next… rapid necrosis. Another shift.
There was nothing else he could do now except watch events unfold in slow-motion, until eventually his mana ran out and it all went to shit.
Cain… hated waiting.
You know what? I don’t have to wait. Fuck that.
He gently thought ‘dispel’ at the spells keeping him near-frozen in time, being careful not to dispel his weapon.
Cain’s world warped and blurred into motion, and sound assaulted his ears. Then everything went quiet.
----------------------------------------
[ Milestone Reached : Classification Interface Unlocked ]
Allows the entity to view the Classification Interface, including the next milestone available. Allows the entity to view the Classification of other entities that have unlocked the interface, if they pass a contested check of scrutiny against the foreign entity’s obscurity.
[ Notice ]
The entity may now select a Primary Classification.
The messages floated in front of Cain’s eyes, the snowy white of the words sharply contrasting against the void of… wherever he was. He looked around and mostly saw more of the same, except there were people gathered off in one direction. There was no sound, and he could not feel the ground beneath his feet. He couldn't even hear himself breathe. Hey, he realized, don’t these notifications usually appear… in my head? Why can I see them now? Where am I?
[ Notice ]
Due to endangering circumstances, the entity’s soul has been temporarily separated from its body and moved to the Domain of Order. Upon selection of a Classification, the entity’s soul will be returned to its body at the moment of removal.
Oh, alright. The lack of sensation made more sense. Except he had no sense. Cease this senseless nonsense, he thought at himself. It’s the only sensible thing to do. Cain looked towards where the people were gathered. He walked forward. As he approached, he began to see that the people were all copies of himself. They all had his own face, his own features. He noticed that the scars were missing, though. No electricity burn across his stomach, no melted flesh on his back, no charred skin on his hands. The only marks on his clones were a series of scars across the left arm. Some were fresher than others. The only thing that distinguished the facsimiles were the clothes and equipment some of them wore.
He walked up to one wearing semi-ornate robes and asked, “Who are you?”
“I am the Sorcerer,” it answered. “I eradicate every obstacle before me with sheer force of will. I shape my mana into powerful spells that can level mountains. My most prized aspects are fire, water, lightning, and earth. I learn skills related to those aspects faster, and gain more powerful effects from them.”
“Huh.” He turned to another robed figure that was near the Sorcerer. “What about you?”
“I am the Wizard,” it replied, “and I use my intellect to get the most out of every spell. I specialize in using the least amount of mana possible to achieve the greatest effect, and exploit weaknesses to bring down foes more powerful than me. My primary aspects are water, lightning, wind, and poison. I learn skills faster, and skills related to my aspects much faster.”
He looked to one in more functional dress that was wearing a mask. “You?”
“I’m the Witch-Doctor,” it said. “I use my magic to enhance my body and weaken my foes. I can use performance-enhancing concoctions to make myself into a deadly warrior, and employ all manner of poisons to end a fight faster. I can also prepare a wide variety of medicines for myself and others. My most important aspects are poison, blood, and water. I learn skills related to them faster, and skills related to my body much faster.”
“Cool,” he said. Looking around, these three were just the front of the crowd. False Cains were stood about in all manner of dress, and a couple wore nothing at all. He walked up to one wearing a dark cloak and thin leather armor, then gestured for it to introduce itself.
“I am the Rogue. I use spells to help conceal myself so that I can strike at my prey undetected. My primary aspects are darkness, light, and wind. I learn skills related to them slightly faster, and skills related to stealth, deception, and movement much faster.”
“Hm.” Cain had found the most generic Cain out there.
A figure further back caught his eye. He pushed past a Cain in excessively bulky plate armor, one in a mechanic’s overalls, one in a blacksmith’s apron, and even one in very pointedly skimpy clothes as he made his way over to the figure he saw. Coming to a stop before the copy, he took in its gear. It wore a heavy cloak much like his own, except this one was battered, torn, and smeared with blood. The same went for the leather armor across its chest. It met Cain’s gaze with steely eyes.
“Who are you?” He asked the mimic.
“I am the Possessed,” it answered. “I will do anything to achieve my goals, no matter how impossible they may be. Through willpower, intellect, and creativity, I use any and every means available to overcome my obstacles. My primary aspect is blood. I learn all skills much faster, improve my body and mind attributes faster, and recover from all manners of exhaustion faster.”
Cain felt more like he was looking in a mirror than at an imitation of himself. “I choose the Possessed.”
He smiled a toothy grin at himself. “I believe you mean, you are Possessed.”
The figures vanished, and Cain was left alone in the void of unconsciousness.