The countryside that surrounded the city of Nefir was just as vast as the city itself. Sandy beaches and treacherous jungle were transformed into rolling fields of verdant farmland, copses of trees mingling with pastures of livestock and rows of crops. It was agriculture on a scale that boggled the mind, and everything around her only seemed to grow larger and larger the further down the road Delahaye walked. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, eyes darting from sight to sight. This place, wherever it was, became stranger and stranger the longer she was in it. She could have sworn she saw a two-headed lizard, but chalked that up to delirium.
You’re going to see things you can’t explain.
The letter’s words rang truer and truer every passing minute. Delahaye hadn’t yet seen another person, and part of her was glad about that. Was she even in a place that spoke English? She ground her teeth, pausing as she did. The sensation felt… off. Long ago, Delahaye had filed her teeth to points. It’d been a decision that played into her reputation as a vicious combatant, something only barely above the bestial. But as she worked her jaw from side to side, there was something wrong. Opening her mouth, she crammed a finger inside to fiddle around. When she brushed a fingertip across a tooth, Delahaye recoiled.
Serration? I never filed ‘em like that.
Continuing to feel around, her confusion swirled into something halfway between excitement and horror. Her filed teeth had, through some means, taken on the qualities of a shark’s. As sharp as knives and serrated along their edges, Delahaye gnashed her teeth a few times. It was a curious sensation– the human jaw had not been designed for the manner of teeth she now possessed, yet the more Delahaye worked her jaw the more natural it felt. She ran her tongue over the points, another chuckle bubbling up from somewhere deep in her chest.
“Ain’t that somethin’? Real strange dental work, that.”
She took stock of her surroundings once more. Delahaye had stopped near an orchard of some variety, the likes of which she had not seen since she was a girl. Whatever fruit hung from the trees, it wasn’t anything Delahaye was familiar with. Berries the size of her palm that glittered like gems, shades of red, blue and green that caught the light and glittered. She reached up, snagging one. It had a heft to it, and she took a bite. It was delicious, coating her teeth and lips in bright red juice. Holding onto the berry, Delahaye consulted her compass, finding that it had shifted due north, rather than north-east.
“Alright… You leading me to something, then?”
If a compass could roll its eyes, Delahaye could have sworn the device in her hand had just done so; the needle swung in a lazy arc, and Delahaye quirked her brow. Taking that as a rather sassy affirmative, she took off once more. It was nearing the tail end of daylight hours, the bright blue sky encroached upon by the oranges and yellows of twilight, the dark of night close behind. Stars poked up from behind the line of the horizon, twinkling in the growing gloom. As she walked, Delahaye kept her eyes on the sky– enraptured by the sight of not just one, but two moons. They rose one after the other, in the staggered lockstep of nervous lovers. With the glacial slowness of the truly titanic, the moons rose higher and higher in the sky with the setting of the sun. By the time she felt her compass’ needle swerve sharply to her east, the world was bathed in the pallid glow of the twin moons.
“Ain’t that somethin’...”
Turning with her compass, Delahaye ducked into a copse of trees. Stepping over roots and under low-hanging creepers, she was in that moment thankful for a lack of hair. Delahaye had always worn her hair in a wild mane of red curls– such a thing in this environment would have gotten tangled a dozen times over, not to mention the humidity! Not that she planned on staying bald. Delahaye’s hair was her pride, and she felt stark and exposed without that familiar weight. The copse carried on, the canopy shrouding her in darkness. The undergrowth was scarcely blessed with light’s touch, and it showed. Creepers and vines were prevalent, entwined around the trunks of the trees, whilst fungus clung to the exposed roots and infested the husks of dead, fallen trees. The scent of the ocean was replaced with the wet rot of the forest floor, and Delahaye did her utmost to focus on anything but that smell.
Pushing aside a curtain of strangler vines, Delahaye’s foot skidded off the edge of a cliff, and she hauled herself back– clutching those very same vines for dear life. Her heart was in her throat, and she fell back on her rear, blinking away her shock. The trees gave way to a steep drop, overlooking yet more expansive land. It stretched on and on, and for the first time Delahaye had a moment to sit back and drink it in. Supporting herself with her hands, she leaned back. As she dug her fingers into the rich soil of the forest floor, she paused as her finger brushed something solid. Feeling around, she felt an edge, then another. After a little more exploration, she cleared the dirt away from what she had found. Taking hold of it, Delahaye tugged the object free. It was a cube, fitting within the palm of her hand. Bringing it up to her face, Delahaye was captivated by what it contained.
Each side was different, but they possessed one thing in common; they were images of something massive. One side appeared to contain an endless ocean, stretching from the distant horizon to the foreground, whilst another side seemed to be from the perspective of a mountain’s base, the craggy peak stretching to the sky. She turned it over and over in her hand, drinking in each vista. An endless sea of sand, the sky in all its grandeur, the stomach-churning view of a cliff and what lay beneath. It was by far the most beautiful thing Delahaye had ever seen, let alone held in her hand. She looked upwards as the canopy rustled, only to catch a bottle right on the nose– falling back with a pained cascade of curses so vile that, had she the capacity, the plants surely would have wilted. Holding her bruised nose in one hand, she popped the cork on the bottle, shaking the note it contained into her lap.
Ahoy!
You’ve found your first Essence! Lucky you! I’d recommend you keep that on you for now, or hey, absorb it now, your call, Captain!
You’ll make it far, once you get a full set. I know you will.
Warm regards,
-T.M.
Essence. She remembered seeing it somewhere… With a thought, she reached for that journal, finding it in her hand as she did. Too caught up in her curiosity to think that over, she opened the journal and began to thumb through the pages, until she found what she had been looking for.
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Inventory Log
“Kip Up.”
* Language adaptation.
* Essence, awakening stone and skill-book absorption.
* Massively increased balance and spatial awareness.
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“Essence absorption… So what, I just… eat it?”
Delahaye held the cube up, opening her mouth and biting down. She grunted, pulling her head back. It had been like holding lightning on her tongue– sharp and electric, burning her nerves and causing her jaw to twitch.
“Rules that out.”
She continued to inspect the cube, tossing it into the air and catching it a few times, watching the different images contained within it shift. Delahaye furrowed her brow, giving the cube a squeeze. That did something. It felt like a nudge at the back of her mind, a probing sensation. A wordless question, unspoken and unheard, yet conveyed all the same. It was like the knowledge of the question had been with her all along, yet only now she remembered the ability to answer it. Whatever it was, the choice of answers was simple.
Yes, or No?
Delahaye pursed her lips. The letter had said to hold on to it, yet also said it was fine to absorb it then and there. Caution had never been one of Delahaye’s strongest qualities. She pondered the decision for a few moments longer, then she held her hand up.
“Alright. Let’s give this a go.”
The decision was made, and the consequences were both immediate and immense. The cube sank into Delahaye’s hand, and she fell back with a gasp. She felt so small. It felt like she was torn out of her body, tossed up amidst the clouds and forced to view the world from the perspective of something grand, something infinitely larger than herself. Vertigo roiled in her gut as she felt her perception thrown forward. She was an ant before a mountain, a grain of sand upon the beach, a leaf in the wind. The moment was both eternal and finite, and with a blink Delahaye found herself back where she had been, sputtering and coughing as nausea ran rampant through her– but with it came something more. There was newfound power there; she felt it inside. Like something that had been a part of her since birth, only now erupting into activity. All she could do for several minutes was lay on her back, gasping for breath, before she found the resolve to sit up.
She looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers. There was little different, but there was something. With that sense of difference came an innate knowledge of how to tap into the newfound knowledge. Delahaye closed her eyes, holding out a hand. Warmth gathered at her fingertips, spreading up her hand, along her arm. When she formed a fist, she found her fingers wrapped around something solid. It was a familiar weight, a familiar grip. When she opened her eyes, she beheld a cutlass of far finer make than the dingy blade she had found at the bottom of her chest. A handle of dark wood connected to a basket hilt of glittering silver. The blade was of the same material; the top half of the carved blade rose and fell in a wave pattern, whilst the bottom half was serrated near the hilt. The blade also possessed embossings of waves in shades of blue and grey. Delahaye marvelled at it, cackling like a madwoman as she held the conjured blade up.
“Now this is a sword!”
Her tone was exultant, and she gave the weapon a few experimental swings. It was more than perfect– it was supernatural. It was less a weapon and more an extension of Delahaye. Wielding it felt like moving her own arm. She opened her hand, fingers splayed, and the cutlass dropped– vanishing into motes of light the colours of the horizon as it did. Feeling around for the journal, Delahaye opened it, finding a new page right at the front.
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Inventory Log
“Captain Delahaye.”
* Race: Outworlder
* Current rank: Normal
* Progress to Iron rank: 25% (1/4 essences)
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“Oh, so I’m an item now, am I? I admit, I am quite the catch.”
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Attributes
* [Power] (Vast): Iron 0
* [Speed] (no essence): Normal
* [Spirit] (no essence): Normal
* [Recovery] (no essence): Normal
Racial Abilities (Outworlder)
* Message in a Bottle.
* Captain’s Compass.
* Inventory Log.
* Astral Affinity.
* Dominion of the Captaincy.
* Kip Up.
Essences (1/4)
* Vast [Power] (1/5)
* No Essence [No Attribute] (0/5)
* No Essence [No Attribute] (0/5)
* No Essence [No Attribute] (0/5)
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She took several moments to take in the new information. Where each page she had seen previously had possessed detailed information on some of the things she now possessed, this was an overview. She turned the page, finding a bullet-pointed note enclosed between the pages. Whereas the notes from the mysterious messenger were written in a flowing hand, the pages of her log and the note she now read were in her own handwriting. It was equally comforting and disturbing, knowing her writing had been forged so immaculately.
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* You have absorbed the [Vast Essence]. You have absorbed 1 of 4 essences.
* Progress to iron rank: 25% (1/4 essences)
* [Vast Essence] has bonded to your [Power] attribute, changing your [Power] from normal to [Iron 0]. Master all vast essence abilities to increase your [Power] attribute.
* You have awakened the vast essence ability [Marauder’s Arsenal]. You have awakened 1 of 5 vast essence abilities.
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It didn’t take much deduction to figure out that her ability constituted the ability to summon weaponry. Flipping the pages, she found herself looking over yet another page.
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Inventory Log
“Vast Essence.”
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“Alright….”
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Ability: [Marauder’s Arsenal] (Vast)
* Conjuration
* Base cost: Varies.
* Current rank: Iron 0 (00%)
* Cooldown: None
* Effect (Iron): Conjures a magical weapon in one of the following variants; boarding axe; blunderbuss; cutlass; hand cannon. Mana consumption varies with form: boarding axe; low, cutlass; low, hand cannon; moderate, blunderbuss; high.
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“That… Sure is somethin’.”
Delahaye took a deep, steadying breath. She was still reeling from the absorption, still trying to come down from the high of excitement and panic she felt. The compass ticked, the needle turning back in the direction of the towering city of Nefir, and Delahaye pushed herself to her feet. It had felt as if only a few moments had passed, yet as she looked out over the cliff, dawn’s early light eased up over the horizon. Shaking the fatigue from her limbs, Delahaye turned her back on the view, taking up her battered, average cutlass and beginning to cut a swathe through the undergrowth.
“Magic… Who woulda thought? Don’t they burn people for this sorta thing?”