Stonebird was still trying to fix Lunge.
"Log out and back in."
"I’m not logging out."
"Then die."
"I’m not dying either."
The player beside him shrugged. "You’re rejecting every proven troubleshooting method."
"None of those are proven."
"They will be if you try them."
Ren stepped away before anyone decided the man responsible for Stonebird’s missing skill should contribute to technical support. His own problem was considerably more interesting.
He opened the Vault.
Keen Bite F
Burrow F
Lunge F
Three stolen combat skills.
One slot.
Now the restriction felt less like a number and more like an actual problem.
Keen Bite had carried him through the duel. Burrow could move him through the ground. Lunge had nearly put a sword through his ribs twice.
He wanted all three.
Pantheon remained unsympathetic.
Ren selected Lunge.
Replace Keen Bite F with Lunge F?
Swapping requires a 10-second channel.
Swapping cannot be completed under direct combat pressure.
[YES] / [NO]
He selected [YES].
The channel began.
Ren watched Stonebird argue with another player about whether hitting his sword against a wall might reset the skill.
Ten seconds later:
Plunder Skill Slots: 1/1
Equipped
Lunge F
Vault
Keen Bite F
Burrow F
Ren closed the menu.
His HP was still low from the duel.
HP: 42/110
Testing a movement skill inside a practice yard seemed considerably safer than testing it against something with teeth, so he moved to an empty stretch beside the rings.
Lunge felt different from Burrow. Burrow had given him an understanding of entering the ground. Lunge gave him a direction and a burst of acceleration.
Ren leaned forward slightly, then activated the skill.
Lunge F activated.
MP Cost: 4
His body shot forward. He covered several paces before his brain fully caught up.
His next step landed too far ahead. He stumbled, windmilled once and barely stopped himself from meeting the fence face-first.
Someone behind him laughed.
Ren glared back.
A Ranger sitting on the fence raised both hands.
"Nothing to do with me."
"You were remarkably fast to defend yourself."
"I’ve been blamed for things before."
Ren looked back at the distance he had crossed.
That was useful. Very useful.
He tried again.
This time he expected the acceleration. He picked a point in the dirt, activated Lunge and let the skill carry him toward it. Better. Still abrupt, but controlled.
On the third attempt, he drew the harvesting knife before moving.
Lunge. One step. Knife forward.
The motion connected naturally. He understood why Stonebird used it so aggressively. The skill did not just close distance. It put his entire body behind the attack.
Ren stopped, then looked at the players swarming the practice rings.
If a Swordsman had given him Lunge, what would a Ranger give him? A Mage? A Cleric? A Guardian?
The answer could be nothing useful. It could also be something he had no other way to learn. And unlike Burrow, those skills belonged to people standing all over Aldern.
Ren looked back toward the players surrounding Stonebird.
Still arguing.
Perhaps not today. One temporarily broken class skill had already attracted enough attention. Still, Ren couldn’t quite shake the thought.
Players are targets too.
A sharp bell rang from the western gate. Not one of the orchard chimes. This one was louder.
Players near the road made way as a cart rolled quickly through the gate. Two broad road striders pulled it, their six legs striking the stones in alternating pairs. One had a dark line of blood across its flank. Three NPC hunters rode in the back.
Something enormous filled most of the cart bed beneath a heavy rope net.
At first Ren thought it was a pile of stone. Then one hoof shifted. The creature underneath the net was still alive.
Its body was shaped roughly like a ram, but there was very little ordinary about it. Dark plates covered its shoulders and spine in overlapping layers, each one ridged like weathered rock. Pale moss grew between some of them.
Its horns curled forward instead of outward, translucent near the tips and filled with thin amber veins that caught the light.
One eye opened.
The nearest players backed away.
Ren leaned forward.
Whoever designed that thing knew what they were doing.
A hunter immediately pointed at him.
"You. Back."
Ren took one step back. The creature slammed its head against the cart and the entire frame jumped.
Ren took another step back.
"Excellent advice."
The hunter ignored him and started shouting for the gate guards.
Players crowded closer anyway.
"What level is it?"
"No idea. I’m getting question marks."
"Move, let me try."
"You’re not getting a better display because you’re taller."
Ren focused on the creature.
Mossplate Ram
Level: ???
Grade: Elite
HP: ???
That answered very little. It also made him want to know more.
One of the hunters jumped down from the cart.
"Clear the road!"
A Mage pointed at the ram.
"Did you catch that?"
The hunter looked at him.
"No. It climbed into the cart, tied itself down, and let us drag it here for exercise."
The Mage nodded slowly.
"Fair."
Another impact shook the cart and one of the ropes snapped.
The crowd moved much faster this time. Ren moved with them.
The guards reached the cart and helped the hunters reinforce the net.
"Where’d you find it?" someone called.
"North pasture."
"Near the mill?"
"Past it."
"Can players hunt them?"
The hunter stared at the crowd.
"You can hunt anything you like."
Several people grinned.
The hunter continued.
"Whether you survive is a separate issue."
The grins became more thoughtful.
Ren understood the feeling.
The cart rolled deeper into Aldern. Players followed for a few steps before the guards started pushing them back.
A notice board runner came through the gate moments later carrying a bundle of fresh papers. That attracted a second crowd almost immediately.
Ren stayed where he was. His attention remained on the road beyond the gate.
The rabbit fields stretched west and south. The orchards were beyond them. North was different. Low hills rose past the farmland, covered in tall silver-green grass. A line of dark trees cut across the horizon farther away.
Something moved above them.
Ren looked up.
A flock of creatures circled high over the hills.
Too large for birds.
Their wings were long and narrow, but their bodies hung beneath them like translucent ribbons, twisting in the air as they turned. Sunlight passed through them in pale flashes of blue and gold.
No trailer, giant boss, or crowd shouting over a talent assessment. Just something strange flying over a place he had never been.
Ren watched until the flock disappeared behind the hills. Then somebody nearly shoulder-checked him reaching for the new notices.
"Sorry."
Ren looked at the board runner.
The man had begun pinning fresh contracts onto a smaller board near the gate. Most vanished beneath players’ hands immediately.
Ren joined them.
A Warrior took one. A Ranger took another. Two players grabbed the same third notice and immediately started arguing over who had it first.
Ren reached past them and pulled one from lower down.
Field Commission: North Pasture Clearing
Rank: Common
Mossplate Rams have moved into grazing land north of Aldern.
Drive off or cull the younger animals before the herd settles permanently.
Recommended Level: 3
Party Recommended
Reward:
40 Copper
XP
Additional payment for usable hides and horns.
Report to Herdsman Vale at the north pasture.
Ren read the level recommendation again.
Three. He was Level Two. Party recommended. His HP was below half. A normal interpretation of those facts suggested doing something else.
Ren looked north anyway.
Forty copper. Harvestable hides and horns. A new species. And whatever abilities Mossplate Rams carried.
He folded the notice.
First, he needed his health back. Then he needed to find out how much trouble Level Three actually was.