They had descended the mountain on the southern face, and based on Layla and Rory’s best guess, they were seventy-ish miles from the coast of the Vylornes sea. The plan they’d agreed upon was to head to the coast, work their way toward the Northern Front, and hope to either catch a boat into the Red Stone Lands or further north. Either that or pray that the Northern Front wasn’t as bad as its hype.

They walked in silence for hours, following a dusty trail West, and no one broke the unspoken tension among them until finally, Erin had something to say.

“Hey, El?” she started.
“Yeah, legs?” Layla munched happily on one of a dozen pieces of fruit Jack had picked in the copse of trees closer to the foot of the mountain.
“Do you… do you feel bad about killing those guys? Those were the first… ‘people’... we’ve killed since we got here,” she chewed her thumbnail, waiting for the shitstorm.
“Nah. The way I see it, they were definitely gonna at least rob us” chomp, “maybe rape us, and possibly give us a free ride back,” chomp, chomp, “to the top of the mountain and minus one level.” chomp, “Also, they’re NPCs, and we’re the main characters,” she continued to chew, waving the crisp fruit as she talked.

Erin stopped in the road.

“But they’re not NPCs, El. They’re people. They’re not AIs. They don’t respawn. They maybe had families. Someone may depend on them,” her expression was hard.
“Yeah, no, I get that, Erin, but we are the only Earthlings here. You guys are what matter to me. And I’ll fuck this entire continent into an early grave before I let someone like Seiger Weiss get his hands on any of you. I’ll burn this whole fucking world to cinders before I let some thug rip your armor off while his buddies hold you down. I will fucking drink the oceans, blacken the sky, and grind the mountains flat before I let anyone hurt us, and your neutral good ass isn’t gonna stop me, because the truth is, you need me on that wall. You want the truth!? YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE-” Layla had begun to spray bits of masticated fruit.

Rory grabbed her wildly gesticulating hands and placed them at her sides, “Alright then, colonel. We get it. For the record, Erin, I agree with her. Not that the inhabitants of this world aren’t people, but that we have to come first. We don’t know if Weiss and the priest are representative of this world’s people. I think, probably not, because Belgryn, and Savka, and Hana, but we have to assume that there will be an Inquisitor Weiss or someone like him everywhere we go, yeah?”

Jack took her hand, “He’s right, Erin. The main quest here is to change the whole world. Think about what they do to people where we’re from when they try to change the world.”

She squeezed his hand, then wrapped her arm around him, “Ok. I just… I don’t wanna be what the priest accused us of being. A natural disaster. We have to be better. We have to make this world a better place.”
“It’s already a better place, legs. We’re here,” Layla wiggled her butt at Erin and skipped toward the West.
“I swear to god,” Rory sighed and took a few steps, before turning back. “It’s alright, Erin. We may not have always played the good guys, but those were games, and this is our life. Right?”

Erin watched Layla’s back as she skipped away, “Right.” She squeezed Jack’s hand again and started walking West.

-----

Jack: I’m gonna be killed by a giant fucking chicken.

“Layla hit me with that cauterizing spell!” Jack shouted, this time successfully defending against the massive avian creature’s razor-clawed kick.
“Are you fucking shitting me!? That spell will peel off half your health?!” she yelled back.
“I’m gonna fucking bleed to death if you don’t!” Jack yelled back, throwing his shoulder pauldron against the Ratite’s chest, buying himself some room. “Erin, you ok?”

Three days into their journey, right about the time they started to wonder how dangerous the less developed lands of the Empire really were, situational irony found them, in the shape of a giant, enraged, crimson lizard-chicken. The creature had burst from the treeline onto the path, eight feet and over two-hundred pounds of obscenely pissed off “bird”, immediately leaping twenty feet and battering Erin to the ground with both clawed feet. It had begun stomping repeatedly, trying to savage the target of its ire, until Jack tossed out a Shadow Dart and barreled into the creature.

Erin was finally on her feet again, and she hurtled toward the giant avian monster, crashing into it in a tangle of limbs, steel, feathers, and gangly bird-legs. They rolled a few feet, and she sprang up before the bird could get its legs oriented.

“CRUSHING SLAM YOU FUCKER!” Her heavy shod boots slammed down on the Ratite’s leg, and a nauseating, chicken bone crunch snapped across the trail.

Even with the injury, the Ratite didn’t slow. It rolled away from her with a deft flap of one flightless wing, until its legs were below, then sprang up. It noticeably favored the left leg, but that didn’t stop it from bursting forward, even faster than Erin’s charge, and swinging a viciously charged claw directly at Erin’s face.

“Tower!” she called out and met the bird’s monstrous slash straight on with the fist of her gauntlet. The unstoppable force impacted the immovable object, releasing a bone on steel clash and a burst of displaced air.

In that frozen moment, Rory struck, “Hidden Blade. Gambit. Backstab.” He stole a glance at his panel.

He grinned fiercely at the titanic sum of damage. He had bought far more “thief” options than he preferred, but his damage output couldn’t be denied. As long as Jack and Erin could hold the creature’s attention, he could abuse his build with impunity. The Ratite stumbled, and before it could even turn to deal with his surprise attack, he leapt backward and ran toward Jack, who had knelt to staunch the flow of blood from his elbow.

The enraged bird-lizard tensed to rush after him, but a gauntleted fist punished its inattention with a solid, hammering wallop to the side of its relatively small head. The long neck whipped forward, and the Ratite wheeled on Erin, who shook out her fists and hopped on each foot in turn.

“Dance with me, chicken little, you fuck!”

“CAUTERIZING FLARE!”
“FUCKING HELL!” Jack had fallen onto his ass, holding his smoking arm.

Layla: You good, Jackson?
Jack: Yeah, wound’s gone. I’m down to about twenty.
Erin: Hey, El, hold my beer.
Rory: wat

The three of them whipped around to look at Erin and the Ratite, where she slammed her fists together, releasing a shockwave of force, “BEHEMOTH RAID!” Her fists and forearms, halfway past her elbow, began to glow with blood-red energy, billowing like crimson smoke.

This time, the bird, enraged as it was, sensed something had changed. It took a faltering step away from the dreadnought, and its head swiveled to look for an escape.

“NO No no, don’t run,” Erin’s voice had deepened and echoed across the trail. She leaned forward and Charged again, but the effect was more like a cannon shot than a locomotive. Her feet left the ground where she had stood, twelve, fifteen feet away from the Ratite, and didn’t touch the earth again until her fist slammed into the avian monster’s chest, burying itself up to the forearm.

The revolting, bone-cracking noise that issued from the creature’s chest was stomach-turning. The bird’s head collapsed almost instantly, and it’s legs dangled in the air where Erin held it until she shook her arm and it slid into the dirt.

“Holy shit. What the fuck was that?!” Layla bounced into the air, running toward Erin.

The tank’s glowing arms had begun to fade, and she unbuckled and stripped off her helmet, revealing her exulted grin, “You’re not the only one around here that hit level ten recently.”