My first week in the Chasm's Bastion is a lesson in humility and adaptation. I am a freshwater fish thrown into an ocean of sharks. Every day is a struggle for survival, not against monsters, but against the human jungle of the city itself. I learn quickly. I learn to walk with a confidence that conceals my youth. I learn never to show all the money I have. I learn that silence is a more effective armor than steel.
I don't take on grandiose quests. I start from the bottom, just like in Kryndal, but here, the bottom of the ladder is far more dangerous. There is no official quest board. Contracts are negotiated in taverns, whispered in alleys. It is a free market of violence and risk.
My first contract is simple: escort a dwarven prospector named Borin to an abandoned mine in the hills, protect him while he looks for iron veins, and bring him back in one piece. The pay is modest, but the risk is deemed low.
Borin is a typical dwarf: bearded, gruff, and more interested in rocks than people. He sizes me up, noting my slender build and my single dagger.
"You sure you're up for it, kid?" he grumbles. "The hills are full of Harpies. They like to carry off shiny things. And my pickaxe is shiny."
"I'm faster than a Harpy," I reply simply.
The confidence in my voice seems to convince him, or at least, to make him resign himself to it.
We set out the next day. The hills around the Bastion are rugged terrain, a labyrinth of canyons and rocky peaks. The danger doesn't just come from monsters. A misstep can send you into a crevasse.
The first day passes without incident. At night, we camp in a small cave. Borin snores like a Rock-Bear, but I sleep with one eye open. The attack comes in the middle of the night.
I hear them before I see them. A dry flapping of wings, a piercing shriek that tears through the silence. Harpies.
I step out of the cave, dagger in hand. There are three of them. Hideous creatures, hybrids of woman and vulture, with filthy wings and hooked talons.
Analyze.
Name: Scavenger Harpy
Level: 7
Status: Aggressive
Skills:
[Swooping Strike (Active)]: A fast charge from the air.
[Sonic Shriek (Active)]: Briefly stuns nearby targets.
Weaknesses: Vulnerable to ranged attacks, fragile in melee if grounded.
Essence: Bestial, Aerial. Low absorption potential. May slightly improve agility.
Level 7. Opponents I can handle.
One of them lets out its sonic shriek. A wave of sound hits me, disorienting me for a second. That's all they need. Another dives at me, its talons aimed at my face.
I throw myself back, rolling in the dust. The talons rake the ground where I was. I am already back on my feet. Berserker Charge.
I can't reach them in the air. I have to force them down.
I run to the entrance of the cave, where Borin has just woken with a start, his axe in hand.
"Stay inside!" I yell to him.
I position myself just in front of the low entrance to the cave. It is a bottleneck. They cannot all attack me at once here. And to reach me, they have to fly low.
The first Harpy, the boldest, dives again. It is fast, but I am ready. I don't attack it. I dodge, and as it passes me, I grab it by the leg.
It lets out a cry of surprise and rage. It tries to fly away, but my weight unbalances it. It crashes heavily to the ground.
Before it can get back up, my dagger has already slit its throat.
One down.
The other two are more cautious. They circle above me, shrieking in frustration. They no longer dare to charge.
I must take the initiative. I look around. The terrain is rocky, full of potential projectiles. I pick up a flat, sharp stone. It's no throwing knife, but it will have to do.
I wait for one of the Harpies to fly low. I throw the stone with all my might. Precise Strike.
The projectile flies, spinning through the air. It hits the Harpy square in the wing. A sharp crack. The wing breaks. The creature cries out in pain and falls in a spiral, crashing into a thorny bush.
Only one remains. Seeing its two sisters fall, the last one panics. It lets out one final cry of defiance and flees into the night.
I do not pursue it. The danger is gone.
I approach the Harpy whose wing I broke. It is impaled on the thorns, wounded but alive. It looks at me with eyes full of hatred.
I put it out of its misery.
Borin emerges from the cave, his axe still raised. He looks at the two corpses, then at me.
"By my ancestors' beard," he says, his tone a mixture of shock and admiration. "You're not just fast, kid. You're vicious."
I don't reply. I place my hand on the nearest carcass. Devour.
The essence is light, airy. It brings no brute strength, but a feeling of lightness.
You have devoured the essence of [Scavenger Harpy] x2.
Your Agility has been slightly increased.
No skills were assimilated.
Borin watches me, his eyes widening. He saw the black energy, the dissolving body. He saw my magic. In this wild land, strange skills are more common, but mine is still shocking.
He says nothing. He just nods, as if he understands that I am a predator of a different kind. His respect for me has just gone up a notch. In the Bastion, strength and efficiency are the only virtues that matter.
We reach the mine the next day. I protect Borin while he works, fending off a few scavengers and other small creatures. The journey back is uneventful.
When we return to the Bastion, Borin pays me the agreed-upon sum, and adds a bonus.
"For outstanding service," he grumbles. He claps me on the shoulder, a gesture that would have nearly knocked me over a few months ago. "If you ever need work, or a blade sharpened, come find me. First sharpening's on the house."
I have gained more than money. I have gained a contact. A reputation.
In the inn's common room that night, the atmosphere has changed. People look at me differently. The story of the kid who took down two Harpies on his own has already spread. It's no legendary feat, but it is proof. Proof that I am not easy prey.
I am no longer the silent stranger in the corner. I am Reinhardt, the Harpy slayer. It is the first stone of my new identity.
I sit at a table and order a stew. A group of mercenaries nearby are loudly discussing a mission.
"...the Ash Pit. They say the Iron-Claw caravan is looking for extra escorts. They're going to try to extract some Ember-heart. It's a suicide mission, but the pay is royal."
The Iron-Claw. The largest mercenary company in the Bastion. They are preparing an expedition to the Ash Pit. This is my chance. A chance to join an organized force, to see the heart of the danger with my own eyes, and perhaps, to find an opportunity to devour a King.
The hunger awakens. My first mission was just an appetizer. The main course is on its way.