White Wood 8
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Reysha went up to the entrance of the dungeon on her lonesome. The smell of Apexus stuck somewhat freshly in her nose, a different smell of grey in a world the colour of lead. Being in this downphase was really depressing and she couldn’t wait to finally snap out of it and feel that burning inside her again.

Pulling her hood deeper over her face, she simple walked onwards. The outpost was a building with two halves, a walkable space between them. In the walls left and right of her were numerous windows. Behind them, illuminated by magical lamps, sat a couple of the Guild’s Scribes. They watched people enter or exit to give tips. What they forgot to bring, how they should treat injuries that they sustained and so on.

“Hey!” one of them called out to her, which was exactly what she didn’t want, so she just walked on. “Hey! Listen!” what an annoying tone of voice. “You don’t want to go in there alone! Take this!” The Scribe pressed a standardized Guild card against the glass. It wasn’t much, just a sheet of metal that held the person’s name, level and classes. The kind of metal used gave away the standing a person had with the Guild.

Copper, bronze, iron, silver, gold, platin, titanium, azurust, orichalcum and finally divinium. Ten metals, which lead to the common disbelief that they were also shortcuts to identify adventurer’s levels in brackets of ten. That the Guild often elevated people along those lines as well didn’t help. Only sometimes, due to bad behaviour (or the opposite) were people held back or promoted before their time.

The card this current Scribe was holding up was a simple copper one. This made sense, lower employees were not allowed to just hand out higher level cards, usually they didn’t even have access to the blanks. The lowest level cards were handed out like cotton candy though, since copper was a material that could be found on just about any leaf and in rough amounts as well. That was aside from the fact that it was created as a waste-product by Smiths in many operations. Although that was a thing Reysha had only heard about.

Anyhow, the reason why the Scribe assumed she didn’t have a card was because adventurers usually wore theirs quite openly. It was, after all, a profession most romanticised as great and interesting, particularly on a safe leaf. The Scribe just saw another new arrival on this world that couldn’t be bothered to sign up with the Guild and went straight to the dungeon, only to get themselves killed. Thus the rather aggressive marketing strategy.

“HEY! LISTEN!” the Scribe screamed like a very obnoxious elf would at a hero she needed to protect. “LISTEN! HEY! HEY! LISTEN! HEY!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Reysha whirled around and actually expended one of her throwing knives. It buried itself in the wood below the window. Although rare, outbursts like this were the exact reason why the translucent barrier was between the Scribes and the adventurers.

“Oh, hey Reysha,” the Scribe recognized her as she stomped her way over. “Didn’t recognize you under the hood.”

“That’s what it’s there for,” the tiger girl grumbled and ripped the knife back out of the wall. “Now give me that card and then leave me the fuck alone,” she had actually forgotten to get one back in the city.

More to the point, she had been so hurried to get out of the city when she heard what she had to do to get her senses sharpened that she had only thought about the dungeon run. This was as convenient as it would get, however, as Reysha had basically no intentions to return to Heralry anytime soon.

“Lost your card, eh?” the Scribe shook her head. Now, Reysha had absolutely no idea who this was. Guild Scribes just had a reputation of being massive gossipers and with the tiger girl’s conditions… yeah, she was an interesting topic and thus somewhat famous. Sliding a copper card and a needle towards Reysha through a gap between the window and the board below it, the Scribe said, “Alrighty, three drops of blood please.”

Reysha obeyed, pricking her thumb with the needle and then letting the three drops fall on the metal surface. Afterwards, her hand was quickly healed by the Scribe, many of them dabbled in weak healing magic for this convenience, and then she went to work. Blood was the easiest medium to use the Analyze spell on and with a surface it could be combined with Engrave to make the cards.

The Scribe grabbed a writing feather and swung it over the surface of the copper plate, her lips moving in a silent chant. Although much to soft to actually write into the hardened metal, the feather somehow succeeded in etching into the surface Reysha’s name, class and level into the fields assigned to them, leaving the field for her second class conveniently empty.

“Huh… what is a Rogue – Noir?” the Scribe asked when she put a leather band through a hole on one of the shorted sides of the rectangle shaped card with well-seasoned movements. “Sounds cool,” she added when she slid the thing towards the tiger girl.

Reysha pocketed the card after looking at her level. To her surprise, she was only level seven. Granted, this was only one level off her prediction, but it made her feel like she genuinely had a stronger than average class, given her recent accomplishments. “None of your business,” she simply answered.

“Would you like to hire an instructor?” the Scribe asked as Reysha walked away again. “GOING IN ON YOUR OWN IS DANGEROUS YOU KNOW!”

“I DOOOON’T CAAAAAAAAARE!” Reysha singingly shouted back and finally made it up to the dungeon. Although it was night, there was a special bit of difference between the darkness outside, illuminated by the stars and the moon, and the one inside the tree. Pieces of sap oozed from the bare-wood walls, doubling both as sources of soft glowing light and sticky traps. It was quite the task to get off these large drops once one got in contact with them. Generally, it was unadvised to get in contact with the walls, as they easily splintered off and caused minor injuries that were annoying to heal. Wounds were easily closed, but things stuck inside bodies had to be removed first, otherwise they could lead to some nasty infections.

“Help me!” a dull, deep and comically distorted voice echoed from somewhere and Reysha rolled her eyes. Like anyone would fall for Archwood Maggots. “Very good!” a voice exactly like that seemed to compliment her as she went deeper in. Her eyes were extremely useful in a place like this, working even with the little light she was given. Her ears turned atop her head in constant search of scraping sounds that would give away an enemies location, while she searched for ways upward. With her dulled senses, it was hard to keep both that and her nose fully operating. She would be able to hear an assault beforehand, but by far not as well as usual.

Eventually, she picked up on Apexus’ scent and thus her path was set.

He wasn’t terribly far away, surely she could make it there without any difficulties. She gathered the mana inside her to use the most basic spell Rogue spell, Sneak. It did little more than mask her presence, making her steps harder to hear and causing people to more easily overlook her in a hurry or when she was only in their periphery. Of course, that effect extended to monsters as well.

She could keep this up for a little while. Regenerating internal mana while using spells or physical techniques, like martial arts or stealth skills, was impossible. Well, it was possible, but it would cause some major self-harm, so it was not advised. Mages and other magical inclined Classes quickly learned their way around absorbing mana from the surroundings to get around this phenomenon, but that took a long time to learn and so most physical fighters didn’t bother with it.

Cloaked as she was (although her actual cloak had been relocated into her bag), the wolf-sized monster sitting in the narrow tunnel didn’t notice her. It was an odd creature, some sort of flightless bird that walked close to the ground and was dominated by its head and the extremely long and straight beak on it. It was just long enough that the bird could still turn around even in these passages. Unaware, it picked at the walls. Not to eat, just to sharpen the splinters sticking out of the walls. Fittingly, these dark-feathered birds were called Woodsharpers. Many other people preferred ‘preparing assholes’.

Reysha was inclined to agree, since her nose told her this was the quickest route to Apexus. ‘Welp, death to you then,’ Reysha thought, approaching in perfect quiet, drawing her stiletto as she did. The bird continued its work. Went on and on until she was in reach. Her thighs tensed as she lowered her posture that little bit more. Her tail was perfectly still.

Then she jumped. The sudden quick movement finally tipped the bird off, who got a single, crow-like tone out before a pointy piece of steel entered its skull through its eyesocket. Not with quite enough force, though, as the blade stopped at the bone behind the ocular. The bird began to struggle, tried to hit Reysha with its beak. The wall was too close and so the monster uselessly slammed it against the wood.

“Just die already,” the tiger girl growled, grabbing the thrashing bird at the opposite side of the head. The combined pull and shove succeeded in breaking through the skull and the stiletto buried itself within the Woodsharpers grey matter. Blood splattered on the redhead’s hands, a mess that only got worse when she pulled back. Hot and sticky, it covered her palms. The first unsullied feelings in weeks, only this blood on her hands. Everything else was as grey as she had grown accustomed too.

‘I recommend you only start feasting once you found us!’ the voice of Aclysia entered Reysha subconscious as she stood there, breathing much heavier than she would have needed for the little amount of energy she just expanded. It wasn’t the upheaval of the panicked or stressed, but that of a parched person that finally stood before an oasis, only to be told the water was poisoned.

One lick, she convinced herself, one lick wouldn’t hurt. The thought was formulated long after her tongue already extended towards her palm. The blood spilled on her tongue like the most delicate wine in existence. Nothing could compare, nothing she had ever eaten prior to today. The time that had passed since her last proper meal only made the sweet and salty taste of magic enriched meat that much more delightful.

Suddenly she was on all fours over the cadaver. Feathers were flying left and right as she tore the pesky annoyances out. Then her fangs buried in the raw meat and the sinewy flesh stretched as she moved her head back. The heart that had nurtured it had barely stopped pumping. It was a fight to rip it off the bones. A fight Reysha won to the sound of tearing and the snapping of bones.

More and more she ripped off, with nothing but fangs and claws. Each bite was heaven. The image of the finest steak presented on a silver platter now seemed ridiculous to her, what could taste better than this? The feeling, the rush of having killed this monster herself, the life still stuck inside its meat. The savoury richness only mana could provide. What dull preparation and spicing could ever compare to this?!

The taste caused pulsations inside her whole body as the world assumed proper smell and colour again. Sound became sharp, her body felt lighter, every pulse ending in her eyes, unbeknownst to her darkening that little bit more with each bit of muscle, blood and bone marrow she shovelled into herself.

A giggle welled up in her throat, then laughter, than downright hysterical screaming as her motions of feasting became downright barbaric, blood splattering onto the walls. “THIS IS WHAT COUNTS FOR LIFE!” she howled at the ceiling as she ripped the heart out of its chest and squashed its warm contents into her red-stained teeth.

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