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To Become Shifted
Chapter 7: A tasteless meal again, but that is okay, things will get better with time

Chapter 7: A tasteless meal again, but that is okay, things will get better with time

Your Royal Highness,

Another unfortunate occurrence has transpired within your territory to the northeastern edge of the Nathalan Mountains along the coastline, a hamlet of 8 families burned down and pillaged, with their crops turned to ash.

They claim that the party of 3 who had raided them had at least 1 player, on account of all remaining eyewitnesses seeing one of the raiders taking their possessions, a blue light surrounding their hands.

Some of the remaining survivors have taken shelter within the city’s church, with the little ones being sent off to the orphanage, where they are being treated for their wounds.

They had been picked up as they wandered through the forest by one of my men, the same men who were supposed to take their tithes and buy their crops to sell in the city.

It must be noted that the survivors claim that a Shifted individual was the main target, one adolescent male named Nikolas Itunnah, the boon bestowed upon him apparently being some form of an invisibility-camouflage hybrid spell.

His two little sisters, one barely an infant and the other just shy of 6 years old, are being taken care of in the orphanage.

His body was not found anywhere near the site, so it is assumed that he had escaped.

I have sent for a spiritualist, along with two minders who can ascertain what the spiritualist says had occurred there to ensure they are not lying to us.

I seek your further guidance and await your given punishment for me on this matter.

This is the second time this has happened under my watch and I humbly ask for your forgiveness for my worthlessness and lack of due diligence.

Please do not harm my family. Leave all of the punishment to me.

~ Revellius Unah

~ A missive sent by Tax Collector Unah to King Yilleia Beialosi, regarding the 167th recorded occurrence of an NPC being targeted by players for Shifted-related matters in Tryndaveist’s history.

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Mentalist Rebecca

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In the city of Tryndaveid, standing right outside of the Ivory Swigs Inn

Becca enters the establishment, her legs and feet climbing up the steps.

You have entered the Ivory Swigs Inn.

She closed the door behind her as she looks and hears the very familiar level of liveliness inside, many voices shouting merrily as they sing a rather lewd and uncouth song.

She blushed a bit at the depravity but marches on nonetheless, walking her way to where the man at the counter was standing.

He was a very large and imposing figure, with arms and muscles the size of tree trunks. He had a bit of a dad bod, but she doubted that it wasn’t chiseled and refined under there too.

She gulps, blushing even further as the large man waved at her, opening his mouth to speak.

“Becca!” The large man shouts before he rounds the counter, holding a hand out to a customer who was about to ask for a refill, as he walks up to her with his arms outstretched for a hug. “I was wondering when you were gonna come back to visit!” He embraces her tightly, his arms reaching slightly below her back as he lifts her off of the wooden floorboards, spinning her around.

“Hi, Mathals,” she managed to squeak out, her heartbeat thumping hard in her chest, “Long time, no see!”

“Long time, no see, indeed!” He brought her back down, kissing her cheek as he did.

Thank God for European cultural influences.

He blinks rapidly, staring at her face. “What happened to you?” he says as he touched the scar on her cheek, still purple from the bruising.

“Stone goblins happened, that’s what.”

His face still looked worried, before taking his hand off of her cheek and throwing an arm around her shoulder, tugging her into him as he said, “They’re right bastards, aren’t they? Cheeky fuckers never give up the chase too!” He laughs hard as he walked her to an occupied barstool, pushing the sleeping customer off of the seat, before sitting her down and continuing, “Tell me more of your adventures, lass! Food and drink are on the house!”

“Yo, Becca!” a voice spoke up from behind her. She turned around to look.

“Brian?!” she shouted back with a wave to her Guildmaster, surprised to see him here and not off doing another quest to level himself up.

She takes out her mind messaging stone and holds it in her hand, a type of message stone that allows for communication via the power of thought instead of having to communicate verbally like most other messaging stones do.

“What’s your level right now?”

“536!” he shouted out loud, paying no heed to the many confused looks thrown at him by the other customers.

Becca’s eyes went wide in surprise, giving him a thumbs-up — she was genuinely surprised at the vast level difference between them — as Brian reciprocated the gesture, going back to talking with the people at his table and talking animatedly about something she couldn’t quite hear over the many burly men still singing that crude and tasteless song.

She turns back around, a plate of food placed in front of her on the underhang of the counter.

The smell was indescribable.

Becca dug in.

Mathals smiled at her as she moaned in pure satisfaction at the first bite.

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I was completely exhausted from the dungeon run, despite how short that encounter with the two monsters was and how little physical activity I had done throughout the entire run itself.

I was now lying on some soft grass under the shade of a tree just outside of the dungeon cave entrance with my rucksack as a pillow — the segments of the Nightcrawler making for a rather uncomfortable place to rest my head — as I was ruminating on what had transpired below.

Blood loss really does fuck you up, huh. Maybe next time leave the damned dungeon first before making your remaining party member leave you alone down there instead of trying to act cool. Just some food for thought, Arthur. Cocky bastard.

I lift my right arm straight up reaching for the skies and looking at it.

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It was normal now. No metallic sheen, no reflective surface. All gone. Just a functioning arm made of skin, bones, hair, and that one weird mole I have in that area where my elbow bent. I recall the boon’s name.

Bodily Rematerialisation. Rematerialisation. What a weird word that is. Rematerialisation.

I repeat the word a few more times in my head before bringing my arm back down to rest on my chest, a bird flying onto one of the branches high up on the tree I was laying under.

I don’t know what to do from this point forward. My head still felt a bit dizzy, and my body still felt a bit numb, making it hard to move about without tripping or falling over. The bird began to sing and call.

The songbird sounds very pretty.

I guess sleeping wouldn’t be so bad.

I close my eyes and drifted off, the bird helping me sink into a state of deep, restful sleep.

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A handful of people have gathered around Becca, as she regaled them all of her adventures deep into the expansion of land to the north of the Continent, past the long stretches of ocean.

The new update involved many bug fixes and patches to certain exploits that had been known about for a few months now, along with a new expansion of land for players who were past level 300 to travel to and grind properly.

The new Northern Continent was a very frigid place. It was made that way by the large and foreboding clouds of ash that had erupted from the volcano in the centre of it.

She still remembers when she had to grind the highest level mobs — level 250 mobs, mind you — for months back on the southern Continent just to get to level 400.

Next time she’ll just wait for the expansion updates.

“But what was the hardest monster there to fight, ma’am?” One of the men around her asked. She turned around to look at him.

He looked to be no older than 16 by her estimate, but he had an intense look to him, looking enthralled at her stories. He had a buzzcut and was rather thin with a Dark-Elven complexion, including the long ears of his kind.

“Well, it’d have to be the Hellspawn Raid Boss deep inside the volcano,” Becca replied, taking a sip of her soft fizzy drink before she continued, “Its name was ‘Mox-Prehn, the Enslaved,’ I think?” She places her hand under her chin, looking at an upwards angle as she tries to see if she was right. “Wait, lemme double check.”

She goes through her Codex, looking for the entry. “Ah, here it is!” She began to read the name out loud for them to hear, clearing her throat before she began.

Codex: {Avatar} Maklesh-Pryn, the Enslaving One

One of the Unholy Divines

The avatar of Maklesh-Pryn.

The avatar remains chained and bound inside the volcano in the Northern Continent of Muhjarik, a final resting place for those damned by the Holy Divines and for those Wicked beings who wished to remain in the Material Plane prior to the Shifting.

Its avatar form is created from the very same eruption of lava and magma that had caused the choking ash that floats above Muhjarik, which made it into the frigid wasteland it is today compared to its lush past.

Maklesh-Pryn is the Unholy Divine of TORMENT and DOMINATION, with this particular avatar’s elements being ASH, LAVA, and PAIN.

Their followers consist of those who wish to subject their enemies to unmentionable suffering and enslave them to do their bidding.

“Oh,” Becca began, “I got their name wrong, it was ‘Maklesh-Pryn, the Enslaving One,’ apparently.” The blue box faded away from her vision, revealing the many astonished faces of the men around her.

“You... You’ve slain one of the avatars of the Divines?” The teen asked quietly, staring at her as he spoke.

“No, it wasn’t just me,” Becca replied, “It was our raiding party!”

The men looked lost for a moment before Mathals said out loud, rousing them from their thoughts, “I think we’ve had enough stories for now, thank you, Becca.” He smiled at her, making her flush a bit, before he shouted with an ale in his hand with just the perfect amount of head, “Three cheers for Becca and her many adventures!”

The already-lively inn joined in on the cheers, their mugs and drinks raised high into the air, some splashing onto the wooden floorboards.

I love this place.

She touched the mind message stone once more as she contacts Brian, looking at him from the corner of her eyes.

“Invite the teen to the guild, Brian. I’ll sponsor and carry him.”

Brian lowers his raised mug of ale, nodding to me discreetly, before slipping back into the merry atmosphere, nobody seeming to have noticed.

They can’t let the other guilds steal such a promising talent.

She recalls the kid’s status that she’d seen using her spell, Invasion of Privacy, back when she finally caught site of him hiding in an alleyway deep in the slums of the city.

Name: Nikolas Ittunah {Current Alias: Leon Munas} Class: Classless {Shifted} Level: 1 HP: 7,000 | SP: 5,000 | MP: 5,000

Skills & Spells:

* N/A

Blessings & Boons:

Boon – Cloak of Obfuscation [Granted by Artilligent, the Shifting Meteor]

Proficiencies: Talents: Tricks: Combat

Dirty Tactics

Grappling

Unarmed Combat

Improvised Weaponry – Sticks

Low Blow (Dirty Tactics)

Dirt Throw (Dirty Tactics)

Sticks Break Bones (Improvised Weaponry – Sticks)

Deception

Acting

Expressions

Yes, and... (Acting)

Farming

Tilling

Watering

Nurturing

Harvesting

Green Thumb (Nurturing & Harvesting)

Bountiful Harvest (Harvesting)

Foraging

Identification

Picking

Generational Knowledge (Identification) {Uncommon}

Green Thumb (Picking)

Pacing

Walking

Jogging

Running

Sprinting

Pleasant Hike (Walking) {Uncommon}

Controlled Breathing (Jogging & Running)

Burst of Speed (Sprinting)

RUN FOR YOUR LIVES (Sprinting) {RARE}

Sneaking

Hiding

Lightfootedness

Number 1 Hider in ‘Hide & Seek’ (Hiding) {RARE}

A perfectly clean slate with uncommon and rare tricks out the wazoo.

Thank god they found him again, they thought they lost him in the forest. That would’ve sucked for us big time. Why did those idiots even start the fire in the first place, anyway? They just had to kidnap the poor kid and we wouldn’t’ve needed to go this far to get him on our side.

She thinks about how moronic those new guild members were.

Leeches, the whole fucking lot of them.

!!! WARNING – FORCED QUIT !!!

Current brain waves are indicating a need to eat.

Forcing you out of the game.

Will respawn outside the establishment ‘Ivory Swigs Inn’ upon returning to the game.

“Oops, gotta go, guys!” She winks at Mathals as she blows him a kiss, “See you around, Mathals.”

She fades into blue twinkling light.

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Becca has her virtual reality helmet taken off of her head and placed on the other side of her bed, the automatic sensor implanted into her brain communicating to the device that takes it off of her for her.

Her vision returns to her tiny room. It is dark all throughout her home, the lights turned off to save as much money as she can on her power bill.

Her walls stink with the smell of cigarette smoke, something the prior tenant and landlord hadn’t properly cleaned.

She hates it here, but only a few more years of playing the game, and she’ll finally have her lucky break. She’s nearing the top 100 players list, which should skyrocket her from obscurity to stardom.

The disability association was very kind in giving her her own mobility scooter, controlled by a device that she manipulates with her mouth. It was unfortunate that they couldn’t give her a fancy one that was brain-computer interfaced, but she understands.

She gently presses the button on her bed’s headboard with her hand, a harsh buzzing noise emanating throughout her home.

The helper should come here any moment now to help her onto her scooter. She needs to go to the toilet too, as well as eat.

She waits in silence, a car just outside her building driving off in the night.

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She rides her scooter back to her bed, the young helper following behind her to help her settle back in, her plate of food held by the helper.

After she settles back into bed, she talks to her, “Thank you, dear.”

“You’re welcome, Mom.”

“I’m not your mom,” I corrected. “I’m Becca, don’t you remember?”

“Right, sorry... You’re welcome, Becca.”

The helper takes a spoonful of Becca’s food and brings it to her mouth, cooling it down by blowing on it before feeding it to her.

“You’re very considerate, dear,” Becca said after she’d finished swallowing the bite of food. It was a tasteless thing, merely there to sustain her rather than enchant her with its deliciousness. Nothing beats the game’s food, anyway.

“My mom taught me good manners.”

“She seems like a good lady, your mother.”

The helper stopped mid-scoop, smiling faintly before speaking with a quavering voice, “I love you so much, Becca.”

Becca squeezed the young helper’s knee since it felt right to do so, saying, “You’re the sweetest girl ever—” she tried to remember the young helper’s name, but nothing came.

Something in the back of her mind itched, a feeling she couldn’t quite scratch, but was too elusive to be caught and understood.

It kept itching. It wouldn’t stop. It hurts.

She is fed another scoop of food.

She can't wait to play again. She hates it here.