《The End of the World! Kinda?》 Countdown to Zero They were seated in the basement family room. The window wells boarded over. The wall screen showing two talking heads, but no one was really listening to them. The map and countdown timer behind the heads were all that mattered. Only two hours and a few minutes, the circle on the map had gotten as small as it was going to get. The red dot covered the Twin Cities entirely, the time for running had passed weeks ago. Not that there would be anyplace safe if the heads were right. Wynter¡¯s Aunt Hazel was flipping through her rosary as fast as her fingers and lips could move. Her maternal grandparents sat next to her, their hands clasped, and heads bowed as they prayed along. Mother was playing with Fall on her lap, keeping him amused as the clock on the screen continued to countdown. Barely two months ago, they had spotted it as it made a billiard shot across the system. Brushing by Jupiter then heading to loop around the Sun. Telescopes showed something almost beautiful. It looked like a pitted and scarred quartz crystal, but a crystal, some hundred and fifteen kilometers long, and about twenty across. A hexagonal pillar with pointed ends that spun slowly along its long axis. The facets reflecting the light is what they spotted first. Just three weeks later someone leaked the trajectory and the world went to hell. Nicknamed ''Teen Baan'' it was the arrow aimed to kill them all. Her eldest brother, August, was gunned down as he packed his car to flee the city. They took his life, his family, and the family car. Summer, her younger sister, called and told them she was leaving the neighbors to walk the short distance home. Refusing to wait for an escort. No one has seen her in a week. Sudden shots rang out. Several different guns. Close enough to startle everyone. A minute later it was quiet again. Her twin brother was out there, in the chaos. The last time they saw him, he was in gang colors and had a tattoo on his neck. The doors upstairs had been boarded over. It had been her idea to spray the Search and Rescue markings on the front door. The plague symbol was pure genius in her opinion. ¡°Wynter! Why are you smiling?¡± Her mother¡¯s snappish remarks drew everyone¡¯s attention to Wynter. All eyes, well except her Aunt¡¯s as the rosary still clacked, were focused on her. ¡°What? Is the end of the world some kind of a joke to you?¡± Her Mother¡¯s voice sharp and growing louder. No, the joke was these old hippies that had stopped naming their kids after months and seasons and put down their joints and magic brownies and found God at the last minute as they were trying to pray away the end of the world. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author. Fall looked up as well and started crying. Too young still at four to understand that tomorrow would never come. ¡°Now do you see what you¡¯ve done! Shh, shh, Fall dear.¡± He was the only one in the room Wynter didn¡¯t hate right now, ¡°Go to your room Wynter! Smile all you want in there!¡± Her Mother pointing with a quivering finger. Wynter walked away as Fall¡¯s wails rose to eardrum shattering levels. High school senior sent to her room like a kid. =-=-=-=- She sat there tossing texts out onto the social media networks. All the public forums sheer chaos. She joined a private chat, >Wh!teW!nt3r: 97 minutes and counting >Babygurl4771: They say it will take an hour for the shock to reach us >Spartan30043vr: So? Why sit around and wait for the end. This is the last chance to make a big splash! >Wh!teW!nt3r: Sealed up in a basement. Not much I can do here >Spartan30043vr: So, break out and live a little. Or cower with the Rapture crowd >Babygurl4771: I have a liter of vodka and a fresh bottle of sleeping pills. Well, the liter is half empty now. I won¡¯t be here to see it >Spartan30043vr: At least that¡¯s doing something. Not approving mind you. > Wh!teW!nt3r: What are you gonna do Spartan?? >Spartan30043vr: Already done. In a bunker with the wife and kids. Been here two weeks already. Stocked for 5 years > Wh!teW!nt3r: GTG u r right. Not that it¡¯ll d much good now. TTY-Never >system: Wh!teW!nt3r has logged off Wynter left her room and went to the storage area where all her father¡¯s things were stored since his death two years ago. They had hiked into the mountains many times, but seldom for the air and scenery. Finding their backpacks, the machete, and both their hunting knives. All still fragrant with the resin from the marijuana they had stolen from the pirate plantations. Her Father had vanished on a solo trip into the mountains, the police considered him as missing, but the family knew he had likely met the pirate growers. She missed California dearly, well most things, at least her Father¡¯s family out there had been sane. Her Mother had moved to the frozen Northlands to join her relatives, just in time to become ground zero. Wynter pried the boards off her window. Shoved her backpack through and barely wriggled through. The scent of distant fires, rotting garbage, and spoiled meat filled her nose. There was a distant burst of automatic weapon¡¯s fire, an all too familiar sound. She crossed the backyard, unchained her bike, and entered the alleyway. Walking a few steps, ¡°Yee Ha!¡± followed by nearly insane laughter as a group of barely dressed teens, torn clothing fluttering behind them, dashed across the mouth of the alley. Followed seconds later by a mob of others holding bats, golf clubs, and knives. None looked her way as the pursuit vanished. Wynter turned around to head the other way out of the alley and heard a hissing growl. She gasped and jumped back, falling as her feet entangled with the bike. Seeing a smoky grey Maine Coon cat staring at her. ¡°Sebastien! You scared me! Silly cat, did Missus Gundersen let you out? Silly boy.¡± Wynter reached out to pet Sebastien as she had a hundred times before, only to have him bite her hand and have all four paws clawing at her arm for a second. Flinging him to the ground, she grabbed her bleeding arm. Rather than running away, Sebastien turned and leapt at her. She scrambled backwards, but still took several long scratches. ¡°What is wrong with you?¡± She hissed back at the cat as she kicked it away. The huge cat was a quarter of her own size and seemed much stronger. Wynter turned to run and barely made two steps when she felt the needle like claws grab her calf through her jeans and she fell face first. She felt jaws on the back of her neck and rolled frantically. The cat bounced away and then before she could stand it was back and this time its jaws clamped on to her throat and its claws were shredding her tank top. The sky lit up behind the cat. She tore the cat away and started punching it. Tennis, cheerleading, and backseat blowjobs hadn¡¯t trained her how to punch but she tried anyway. There was a blinding streak of light dropping from the sky. Suddenly the crystal stopped and hung in midair, but the glowing shockwave continued. Tearing apart the very ground below it, a city was reduced to dust and ashes. Including a struggling teen and her rabid feline opponent. 001 Awakening
System Initialization¡­ complete Node Identification. #error Attempting to isolate contamination¡­ failure Attempting to merge node contaminants¡­ complete Node Stabilization¡­ 3¡­ 2¡­ 1¡­ complete Scanning Node¡­ complete Downloading patches¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­¡­ complete Installing¡­¡­¡­¡­ complete User Interface Initialization¡­ complete Welcome New User! View Tutorial? y/n
¡°Umm, yes?¡± Wynter was confused. She seemed to be hanging in a glowing mist. No up or down. Then without warning or transition she was standing in a school classroom. A featureless Mannequin in front of her. ¡°Welcome to the System tutorial! All options and choices may be spoken, thought, or gestured to. In the corner of your vision you will see a paper doll outline, this is personal link to your status screens. These screens may also be accessed with a clear thought or a spoken [Status]. Please call up the status screen now.¡± ¡°[Status]¡± Wynter spoke in a strangely detached tone. A transparent window appeared, Titles: na Name: Wynter Race: Beastkin ¨C Felidae (Shadowcat) Age: 18 (March 22nd, 2032) Traits: Racial ¨C Affinity to Shadows, Racial ¨C Darkvision, Racial ¨C Obligate Carnivore, Racial ¨C Sensitivity to Light, Racial ¨C Natural Weapons, Racial ¨C Natural Armor. Class: Novice Dancer HP: 45 MP: na PP: 60 SP: 63 AC: 0 Evasion: 6% Dodge: 15% STR: 9 VIT: 9 AGI: 14 INT: 12 MIND: 12 PER: 11 CHR: 6 (18 base) Luck*: 2 Skills Short Blades: 2 Hand-to-Hand: 2Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ::Martial Kick: 2 ::Martial Punch: 2 ::Martial Throw: 1 Dance: 16 ::Exotic: 16 ::Folk: 12 Acrobatics: 12 Jump: 11 Climb: 4 Dodge: 7 Accuracy: 9 Sex: 9 ::Foreplay: 7 ::Oral: 6 ::Anal: 1 ::Lesbian: 3 Psionic Arts: 1 ::Reinforcements: 1 Shadow: 1 Inspection: 3 Lore (General): 1 ::Lore (Beastkin): 1 Professions (0/4) >none Spells (0/0/3/0) >Physical Reinforcement 1 (STR) >Vision Reinforcement 1 (PER) >Health Reinforcement 1 (HP) Equipment >none =-=-=-=- Well, shit, so much for what happens in Vegas, staying in Vegas. The anal, was a strap-on, and it was once! Once! ¡°So, you can see that the Status tells you all about yourself. Your Titles are effects applied externally and can be lost or changed if you travel to new regions. Traits are things that permanently affect your body and mind internally. Racial, are as they sound, effects imposed by your Race. Being a Shadowcat makes you a creature of the shadows, abhorring light. Light based attacks will do increased damage. While eating vegetables and fruit won¡¯t harm you, they will do you little good, it is meat you crave and must have. Your hands and feet now have claws and with training would be all the weapons you might ever need. With training your fur could become the perfect armor for you. Wynter raised her arm and saw a cat¡¯s paw and the smoky grey fur, ¡°Sebastien? Why do I look like Sebastien?¡± Wynter asked. ¡°Sebastien? Ah, yes, the feline contaminant. When you were caught in the transition shockwave and your body destroyed, we rebuilt you. There was a cat intermixed with your patterns and the two couldn¡¯t be separated. So, your current appearance is an admixture of you both.¡± ¡°Was¡­ was everyone destroyed?¡± ¡°Just those within an approximate 300Km radius of the System Crystal. This map zone is now considered off-limits to natives of Earth and you will be relocated once the tutorial is complete.¡± ¡°So, is everyone getting the System?¡± ¡°No. Over the past several years, nearly 90% of the original Terran population has proven incapable or incompatible with the System or has died due to environmental causes. and became surplus biomass for creature creation. Each year fewer and fewer fail to adapt and the population has begun to stabilize. Estimates are that 140 to 150 million Terrans will remain when their population stabilizes.¡± ¡°What! You guys wiped the fucking planet out? Why the¡­¡± There was a click and all the anger flowed out of Wynter. She could no longer remember why those numbers had made her angry. ¡°To continue; your class, such as it is, depicts your highest active skill. In this case your highest skill is Dancer at L16, so you are known as a Novice Dancer. Skills can progress up to L1000, with your current level in the Novice range. This will give you an estimate of what another user or creature is capable of. Just beware, a person might have one Novice ranked skill, or a hundred of them, and still be shown as a Novice. Skills increase as you use them or receive training.¡± A section of the Status screen lit up, ¡°These four pools are critical. HP, Health Pool, is your bodies integrity. Should it reach zero you will die. MP, Mana Pool, this is the energy used to fuel your spells, should you ever learn any. When it reaches zero you will be unable to cast and suffer from Mana Exhaustion. PP, Psionic Pool, Beastkin tend to use this rather than Mana. This pool fuels your psionic abilities, currently your only skill is beginner Reinforcement. At your current skill you will need 10PP to add +1 to your Strength or Perception. SP, Stamina Pool, all physical actions take effort, every swing of a sword, every spell, all have a Stamina cost. In general, 1SP per Kilogram of mass for each action. So, swing a dagger or throw a punch? One Stamina. Swing a massive halberd? That would be four or five stamina per swing. Special skills might use a lot more. All of these will recover by potion, meditation, or simple time. Skills, training, and experience can reduce stamina costs and hasten recovery.¡± A new section lit, ¡°These are your Statistics, a method of quantifying your abilities. Strength, or STR, is a measure of raw physical force. Vitality, or VIT, is your endurance and how sturdy you are. Agility, or AGI, is your ability to move and react. Intelligence, or INT, is not a measure of what you know, but your ability to use what you know. To see the connectedness of the universe and bend them to your will. Mind, or MND, is your force of will to look inside and draw out the hidden power there. Perception, or PER, is how aware you are of your surroundings, the ability to see the smallest things. Charisma, or CHR, is how other perceive you and how you present yourself to them. Currently, as a non-Human in human lands your effective score is reduced. Luck, sometimes the Fates turn against you and turn the simplest task into a complete disaster. Spend a point of luck and you might well turn the foulest happenings into your favor. Luck may even spend itself. All of these, except Luck, can be raised freely to a score of 200, but after 200 they become increasingly difficult to raise and the returns are smaller.¡± ¡°This last section is your Professions, these are like the skills, but these are the skills of building or creating. For example, an Artist skilled at Painting might create a new famous painting, a Gardener might produce the best flowers, a Smith might do incredible things with metal, whether the iron of a Blacksmith, or the delicate works of a Goldsmith and Silversmith. You can have four, and eventually two more if you become skilled enough. Now enough of this. It is time for you to be gone. Fair warning though, those outside the exclusion radius were rebuilt nearly immediately, only losing a day or two. The closer to the Core, the more your body was scattered, you were almost at the center and had contaminants to handle. To those outside, almost a decade has passed. You will need to be careful and catch up.¡± With a flash of light, Wynter was standing in a forest clearing, summer birds singing. The light was so bright, and that cute rabbit was leaping at her throat. =-=-=-=- 002 Wandering =-=-=-=- Wynter ducked out of the way and spun to face the murderous rabbit. Except, since when did rabbits come in the size of German Shepherds, have glowing red eyes, and a mouthful of teeth that would do a shark proud? This time when it leaped at her, Wynter slapped it away. It came back, time and again. When her left arm grew tired she tried using her right and this time she mistimed the slap and it took a bite out of her shoulder and the paws clawed her chest and breast. Without a thought, she curled her hand into a fist and as she had with Sebastien she punched the rabbit. ¡°Ouch!¡± The rabbit had gone flying away as she expected. What she hadn¡¯t expected was the pain in her hand. Looking at the four ragged tears in the tough skin of her palm. Oh, yeah, the tutorial had said she had claws. She stretched her hand out and with a concentrated thought, her black fingernails extended out and became wicked black claws. The next time the rabbit jumped, her extended left claws caught it and spun the rabbit in the air. Her other hand striking in a swipe she somehow knew was right as she tore out the rabbit¡¯s throat. Sinking to her knees as the adrenaline passed and the pain set in. The deadened emotions from the tutorial returning in full force. Anger, Confusion, Fear, Grief at a world murdered for some reason she didn¡¯t know. She looked at the bloody mass that had been the rabbit and barely turned aside, trying to throw up the nothing that was in her stomach. Wynter leaned back gasping as her vision cleared and her heaving stopped, she saw the small puddle of bile mixed with the red running from her shoulder. Pressing her hand the bleeding tears, she gasped as the pain spiked. She screamed in defiance, venting her frustration in a world gone awry, as the blood started matting her fur. Feeling a curious pressure building at the wounds, then exhaustion set in. She dropped her hand to look at the wound to see nothing but bloodstained fur. Wynter crawled away from the body and curled up to sleep. =-=-=-=- Two rabbits wandered by. Seeing the furred figure sleeping they briefly considered taking their meal there. Smelling the blood of their kind all over the figure, they passed by. Instead, they turned and went to the nearby carcass. =-=-=-=- Wynter awoke in a dim forest. The sky still showing a few of the brighter stars through the canopy. Before she had a chance to sit up her stomach grumbled. A tiny icon flashing in the corner of her vision. She focused on the icon and was startled as it expanded to a block of scrolling text.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.
>You have been cast out of region 000 Core. >You have entered region 004 Kansas (Forest) >You have Dodged Rabbit T1 >You have deflected Rabbit T1¡¯s attack >You have learned Parry 1 ¡­ >Your skill has increased! Parry 2 >Rabbit T1 hits for 16 damage >You have killed Rabbit T1 >You have learned Health Reinforcement >You have used Health Reinforcement! +15 HP >You are suffering from Psychic Exhaustion >You are no longer exhausted
Wynter looked in all directions, every direction was equally trackless. The sun was rising in that direction so that was east kinda? Picking up a stick as long as her forearm she looked at the leaf on one end, ¡°So, show me the way?¡± She launched the stick up into the air. =-=-=-=- Wynter frowned as she took another bite of the raw rabbit. As easy as they were to hunt down now, she doubted she would ever get used to the taste. She was no longer entirely sure just how long it had been since arriving in these forests. The stick had pointed west-ish but navigating with the trees blocking the sun was a task. That much made her smile, even with the gamy taste still in her mouth. Every task, every challenge brought either improved skills or entirely new ones. All day as she walked she used her [Reinforcement] just a bit at a time. Sharper senses, faster movement, just a constant trickle of power from her Psionic pool. She had been amazed to find she could see at night like it was twilight, which combined with her inability to sleep more than a little at a time had let her make great progress. Yay! Faster travel from nowhere, to nowhere. Every day, less of the old Wynter remained. Vain and prideful, she had always had the best boy and girlfriends without really trying. Now, she was beginning to like the solitude. Before the wilderness was something others did, even at cheer camp she only traveled into the forests when she had to. The trips with her Father had been quick in an out. Her idea of camping was in a nice RV. Now, she was spotting animal tracks with ease, taking her nap high in trees or deep in burrows. Wynter had noticed that as long as she moved slowly and remained in a shadow that other creatures rarely noticed her as long as she remained downwind from them. She had found if she concentrated hard she could sense the locations of the deepest shadows nearby. Her preferred mode of travel was to quietly dash from shadow to shadow. Moving lightly, her feet avoiding the twigs and dried leaves that used to crackle and crunch under her every step, she was gliding from shadow to shadow one day when rather than the usual deer she had seen at a distance, not five paces away was a stag and four does. These were so much bigger than any deer she had ever heard of, and they all had horns that gleamed like steel daggers. Wynter hunkered down just to watch them as they grazed. They seemed not to notice Wynter as she watched them. Suddenly, the wind shifted and the stag turned to face her and it bugled. The does didn¡¯t flee as other deer might but moved to join the stag in a circle facing out. Between one second and the next, the stag lowered its head and charged. How do you parry a wall of knives? Wynter just froze and wanted to be elsewhere, she really, really wanted to be elsewhere! The dagger sharp points penetrated her skin with ease and then they were gone. The stag pranced where the predator had been, then turned to return triumphantly to his does. 003 Bunker Busting =-=-=-=- It took two days of lapping at mineral-laden water trickling down the stony walls and snatching up every small bug or lizard as a meal. At last, there was fresh air and a breeze from somewhere ahead. She turned a corner and there was light ahead! Almost too bright to bear, she approached a T-junction. To the left was a steeply slanted shaft to the surface. To the right, just a few paces away were a pair of heavily rusted metal doors. A sign on the doors said simply ¡®Bunker #3¡¯. Wynter went up to the doors and grasped a handle. A pop-up appeared,
>Enter Dungeon ¡®Bunker #3¡¯? y/n
Not really knowing what to expect, she said ¡°Yes.¡±
As the Discoverer of ¡®Bunker #3¡¯ your party will receive double the rewards for the first 24 real world hours. Warning, time acceleration in progress, currently 10:1
The walls and floor seemed to be poured concrete. Dimly flickering lights lit the short hallway that led to a pair of shattered glass doors. Looking back over her shoulder she saw the saw two metal doors, but from this side, they were covered in gouge marks. She went down the corridor, carefully crossing over the broken glass. The left wall was a reception style desk. The right looked like a classic waiting area. A restroom with a bashed in door behind the seats. Dark splatters stained the tiles, but there was no sign of bodies. Turning the taps, she was rewarded by a stream of stale and rusty water that Wynter couldn¡¯t drink fast enough. She twitched as her ears heard voices for the first time in ages. She turned to get closer, only to realize that they weren¡¯t speaking any language she had ever heard. Wynter peered out of the restroom and waited. Soon two figures came out from deeper in the complex, maybe 3 or 4-foot-tall, they walked upright like people but had heads like some bad dinosaur movie. Holding spears in their right hands, the one held a glowing gem of some sort that acted like a flashlight. The other held a small round shield. Maybe she made a noise, maybe they saw something, but suddenly the one turned and shone the flashlight beam directly into her surprised face. She pulled back but was almost blinded by the intense light that had hit her. She heard them coming and withdrew into the small restroom. If Wynter looked to the side she could still see, the blotch in the middle of her vision slowly clearing. As they went to enter the room with her, she pushed aside the spear that entered first and swiped at the lizard thing¡¯s face, only to have her claws rebound from the shield. A spear came over the shoulder of the first lizard thing and cut a crease into her arm. Dragging the shield down, Wynter bulled forward. The claws that had deflected the spear tearing open ragged slashes down the neck and chest of the first creature. She rolled to the side pinning the first creatures spear hand, as the second creature¡¯s spear missed. Getting her right hand under its shield, both of her hands raked and she felt the lizard go limp. Springing back the second creature missed again, and with a bleat, it turned to run. Something no cat can resist, fleeing prey. The one holding the light crystal hadn¡¯t made even four strides before Wynter was on it. Licking their blood from her claws, Wynter felt vaguely uneasy. These weren¡¯t rabbits and birds, these had been thinking and speaking beings. Shouldn¡¯t she feel something about killing them, other than how good their blood tasted? The notifications called the lizards ¡®Low Kobold Scouts¡¯ whatever that was. Healing the last of her wounds, Wynter grabbed the crystal torch and started exploring the rest of the bunker. An hour later she had found two barracks areas that had mostly been stripped, a kitchen and cafeteria likewise stripped. A side hallway leads to office spaces and a few officer¡¯s quarters. The hallway pockmarked with bullet holes and what looked like the blast mark of an explosion. The office at the end of the hallway had a door marked by bullet holes and gouge marks, but it remained intact and after a tug, locked. It took far too many impacts of her shoulders into the door before something broke, in the door not her shoulder. The door slowly opened until she could see a desk had been pushed in front of it. Eventually, enough of a gap formed to allow her to squeeze through into the room. The stale stench hit her nose first. Then look to see the source, err, sources. Three mummified bodies lay in various positions, prominently one lay on the floor with a jagged black glass sword like thing rising from the center of its chest. All the bling on the bodies clothing led Wynter to think a General or something. Another with two spears just like the ones she had just fought against sticking out of the male body. His hands held a pair of pistols, automatics. The third body was a woman in a uniform style skirt and once white blouse. She had no obvious wounds and was holding an assault rifle. The floor around her covered in scattered spent brass and emptied magazines. It wasn¡¯t until that second that Wynter had even thought about clothing. Weeks of wandering around naked and never noticing. More of the old Wynter died away as she remembered briefly the hours shopping for the perfect skirt, that oh so sexy bra and panty set. All seeming meaningless to her now. What did have meaning? An opened case of trail bars. Pressed fruit and nuts with various grains. She had lived on these during cheer practice and between classes. Quickly devouring five before her stomach seemed full. Pushing the door closed and the desk back against it, she searched the room. There was an inner door that led to a small BOQ with attached shower and restroom. The water was just as rusty and foul tasting as before, but it was wet and that was all that mattered. The shower was plugged with rust and scale it seemed and the sad dribbles would never get her clean. Wynter curled up on the single width bed and she thought again of how the Kobolds had tasted, the trail bars less appetizing by the second. Nodding off she had a full nights sleep for the first time in, well, ever¡­, =-=-=-=- Wynter awoke to total darkness. The crystal torch had gone out overnight. Picking up the torch a pop-up appeared,
Add Mana to light torch? y/n
¡°Yes¡¯ she said. Then felt a tiny bit of her shadow mana flow away as the torch lit, but not with the yellow-red light of yesterday, instead, it glowed darkly. Spreading shadow. Her eyes adjusting instantly she could see clearly. Even better than she had yesterday. Colors were gone, only whites, blacks, and greys remained. Instead, texture stood out. Scuffs in the painted concrete showed clearly each item dragged over it, even footprints stood out. Her tracking showing her how this scuff matched to that boot. Moving deeper into the bunker Wynter found what looked like a warehouse area. Piles of plastic items sat around the room. Everything wood or paper was gone, much of the metal as well. Huge piles of empty MRE wrappers were scattered about. Towards the back of the huge room, Wynter found what seemed to be the two Kobold¡¯s camp. A bunk mattress cut in half on either side of a charred spot on the concrete floor. A crude bag held four rats that smelled more than half rotten. A short distance away was a hole in the concrete walls that led into a damp smelling cave tunnel. Grabbing her shadow torch, Wynter stepped into the tunnel. =-=-=-=- Wynter was tired, in more ways than one. Constantly healing the wounds that battle left on her drained her Psychic energy. The torch needed more and more Shadow mana to push back the glow of the moss patches and the Kobolds crystals. Her mana channels still ached and burned every time she fueled the torch. Tired only having Kobold to eat, and bad water to drink. Tired of never sleeping more than a few minutes at a time in the what she thought was maybe five days she had been in here. Mostly, she was tired of being tired. Pushing her senses to the limit was second nature now. The Kobolds were well aware she was hunting them. Wynter found the Low Kobolds almost too easy now, the ones called just Kobold were a good fight. The best part of the plain Kobolds was that they had things. Coins, shiny stones that might be crystals or gems. Best though were the two backpacks.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Compared to the dozens of times she had ambushed them, three times now they had ambushed her. Two small parties of Scouts she had defeated, but the third¡­ The damn things had a ¡®High Kobold Pyromancer¡¯ with them and she had been forced to run with her fur on fire. That had been incredibly unpleasant. Even worse was when she ran to the front doors to leave the dungeon a message confronted her,
Entrance only! Look for the Exit somewhere within!
Wynter took a minute to review herself, Titles: na Name: Wynter Race: Beastkin ¨C Felidae (Shadowcat) Age: 18 (March 22nd, 2032) Traits: Racial ¨C Affinity to Shadows, Racial ¨C Darkvision, Racial ¨C Obligate Carnivore, Racial ¨C Sensitivity to Light, Racial ¨C Natural Weapons, Racial ¨C Natural Armor. Class: Novice Dancer HP: 55 MP: 32 (65) PP: 124 Stamina: 74 AC: 0 Evasion: na Dodge: 26% STR: 10 VIT: 11 AGI: 16 INT: 13 MND: 16 PER: 17 CHR: 6 (18 base) Luck*: 2 Skills Small Blades: 2 Hand-to-Hand: 18 ::Martial Kick: 12 ::Martial Punch: 18 ::Martial Throw: 6 Parry 11 Dance: 16 ::Exotic: 16 ::Folk: 12 Acrobatics: 14 Jump: 11 Climb: 8 Dodge: 13 Tracking: 11 Survival: 3 Stealth: 18 Accuracy: 19 Sex: 9 ::Foreplay: 7 ::Oral: 6 ::Anal: 1 ::Lesbian: 3 Psionic Arts: 14 ::Reinforcements: 14 Shadow: 3 Inspection ¨C 15 Lore (General) ¨C 1 ::Lore (Beastkin) ¨C 1 Professions (0/4) >none Spells (2/0/3/0) >Physical Reinforcement 14 (STR) >Vision Reinforcement 14 (PER) >Health Reinforcement 21 (HP) >Sense Shadow 1 (5MP) >Shadow Step 1 (40MP) Equipment >Crude Backpack (10 slot) 3/10 >Crude Backpack (10 slot) 5/10 =-=-=-=- The little scaly bastards had been proven to not be able to see in her shadows, but this ambush would put it to the test. Four low scouts, two kobold warriors, and the high pyromancer itself. Wynter planted her shadow torch in the middle of a darkened tunnel and pumped as much mana as it could take into it. Then moving closer to the Kobolds, she lay down in a tiny alcove and waited. The scaly bastards were too clever for their own good and spotting as their light met the edge of her shadow they set up their own ambush. The scouts moved forward to the very edge of the shadow, the warriors stopping just behind them. The pyromancer was further back, just passed where Wynter lay hidden. ¡®Please don¡¯t see me. Please don¡¯t see me. Please don¡¯t see me.¡¯ Repeating endlessly. She felt a tug and her Mana started to slowly drain, a dark cloud oozed from her skin and covered her. A notification Icon started flashing frantically, but Wynter didn¡¯t have time for it as the pyromancer raised its hands and a ball of flame formed. Several things happened at once; The pyromancer launched its [Fireball] down the corridor to explode in a wall of flames. The scouts lowered their spears and with a scream, they charged after the retreating wall of flames. The warriors yelled battle cries and with short swords and shields held before them moved in step behind the scouts. Most importantly though, Wynter sprang up and moved silently to stand behind the Pyromancer and reached her clawed hands as if she were embracing it from behind. A clench of her fingers drove the claws deep, then a ripping motion tore the jagged points across the mages now shredded throat. A second flashing icon appeared as Wynter stepped quickly after the other Kobolds. The one Warrior falling almost as silently as the Mage had until the beaten metal short sword clattered to the floor. Wynter barely paused as she sprang at the other Warrior. They exchanged blows, three shallow cuts, and a huge bruise on her right chest from its [Shield Smash]. Wynter left several bleeding slashes on the Warrior, who was weakening from blood loss when a spear was thrown out of the dark to embed itself in her side. She pulled the Warrior in front of her as a second spear came flying, this one landing in the Warriors gut and ending its life. The four scouts charged, two with spears, two with daggers now. As Wynter pressed her hand to her side and pulled the spear free and she poured healing into the gout of blood. She reveled in the looks of horror as they saw the wound close before their eyes and the now black shadow of a Beastkin countered their charge with one of her own. =-=-=-=- Wynter smiled viciously as she bit off another chunk of the High Kobolds tail. Maybe it was her imagination, but as good as Kobold was, High Kobold tasted better. The ¡®loot¡¯ before her drew a more pleasant smile. More of those odd coins, copper and bronze? More of the shiny stones, one of which she recognized as agate. A whole pile more of the torch crystals. Two short swords that looked like they had been beaten out of a table leg. Then the real prizes, the Mage¡¯s robe, a leathery skin that the mage¡¯s blood had flowed off of. Two finger rings and a necklace of crystals. Picking up the swords, the first
Poor Crude Short Sword3/6 durability
Crude Short Sword 4/8 durability
Trash to begin with, and her fingers couldn¡¯t hold one well anyways. She set them aside.
Fine Snakeskin Robe 10/12 durability +2 Int, +1 stamina per 10 seconds.
Okay! Now that was nice!
Poor Copper Ring of Intelligence +1 Int
Copper Ring of Fire +2 to Fire Damage
Fine Quartz Necklace of Mana Battery 36/50 Mana stored
Wynter slipped the necklace on and pushed a little mana at it. It seemed it took twice the amount to store it. The Intelligence ring she held up, wondering how to wear it when it began glowing and resized itself to the size of her stubby fingers. Wynter pulled on the Mage robe, feeling it stretch and slide until it conformed to her body. It had reached almost to the ground on the Kobold, now it barely covered her upper thighs behind pleated ruffles, the top now a halter that threatened to expose her not overly generous breasts with each motion. The back totally open. The silvery grey color had become a dull black with grey highlights that seemed to randomly cover her. Spinning, the skirt swirled up and the breeze made her aware of the lack of panties. A minute ago, she had been naked and comfortable, now she wore a dress, and felt¡­ exposed. =-=-=-=- Four days, maybe, had passed. All the upper rooms had been cleared. All the Low and Regular Kobolds gone, rare patrols by High Warriors all that she¡¯d seen for the last couple days. The two backpacks she was dragging had long since been filled. All that was left was a spiraling ramp down. She¡¯d woken this time to the lack of pain, her mana channels weren¡¯t aching. All her pools topped off. Now, to get out of this hole in the ground! =-=-=-=- Wynter crouched peering into the circular cavern. Her gaze moving from one Kobold to the next as she tried to take stock of what awaited her. Fourteen low kobolds, six average Kobold Breeders tending clutches of eggs, two High Kobold Guardians, a High Kobold Shaman, and a *High Kobold Matriarch*. Yes, her name included the stars and had a silver trim around her nameplate. There! There was the way out! Wynter used every swear word she had ever heard, including Spanish, Thai, Russian that she had ever heard used. Just two steps behind the Matriarch was a metal ladder climbing to a hatch far overhead. Even from here she could see the rusty chain and hanging padlock on the escape hatch. Seeing a glint of metal on the Matriarch¡¯s neck, and Wynter could bet where the key to that padlock was. A mad charge would be foolish and suicidal at best. So, she had take them a piece at a time. After a few hours the camp area settled down. The Breeders pulling aside the two Guardians and some of the Lows. The Matriarch pulled the Shaman back into her tent. The rest curled up to sleep. Wynter took a handful of the torch crystals and pumped mana into them. Then carefully tossing them down into the darkening camp. Bouncing them off tents, landing them on piled furs, soon the entire camp lay in shadow. A few shattering on the stones drew little notice. Moving quietly and carefully Low Kobold after Low died without a sound or waking. The paired lows and breeders presented little more trouble. The first Guardian died as unaware as any, followed seconds later by his Breeder. The second Guardian was wearing a leather collar and Wynter¡¯s claws skated off doing little damage. The Guardian twisted away as Wynter kicked at his belly and she tried grabbing the collar to keep control. The Guardians fists launched into Wynter¡¯s ribs in a pummeling left, right, left, in a stream of blows. Only the Guardians lack of weapons kept Wynter alive. The Breeder jumping on Wynter¡¯s back as she shrieked her anger into the surrounding shadow. Wynter released the Guardian, grabbing the Breeder and with a savage slash ended her screams. Looking to the Guardian as he felt around blindly for his weapons and shield, Wynter saw her mistake. She had been fighting his fight, now that he was blinded by the deep shadow it was her fight. Timing her strike was easy as she aimed and gutted him. The outraged shouts of the Matriarch and Shaman filling the dark. Wynter laughed evilly as she walked around the camp and touched each crystal, pushing a drop of mana in the lights went out one by one and the shadow grew dark and total. The last two Kobolds stood back to back awaiting her. Two light stones gleaming brightly next to them. The Shaman wielding a staff as he sent screaming skulls blindly out into the dark he had never feared before. The Matriarch swinging a massive two-handed cudgel as she shouted challenges. A spear struck from the shadows and one of the remaining torch crystals fell to the ground. A second spear strike a minute later shattered the crystal. Wynter heaved mightily and the corpse of one Guardian flew out of the dark and knocked the last light over and smothered the still glowing crystal under its heavy body. Wynter laughed as the dark became total. With her stealth fully engaged she darted in, made a slash and darted away. Both Matriarch and Shaman had nearly a dozen wounds as Wynter struck the staff from the Shaman¡¯s hands. Not a minute later, he fell with hardly a sound. The Matriarch swung wildly, panic rising as she stood there panting and Wynter lunged in and hamstrung the corpulent Matriarch. A slash under a raised arm slashed tendons and left that arm limp. Wynter toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. Long after it could have ended. Until at last the Matriarch knelt sobbing hopelessly and Wynter stepped in and ended it. 004 Guarded Maneuvers Wynter spent a couple hours searching the camp, she had to add a third crude backpack just to hold all the coins, shiny stones, torch crystals, and miscellany. The important bits were the Shaman¡¯s staff, a curious knife, and a belt of linked metal panels. All the Matriarch had was her two-handed cudgel, an ornate earring, and the key to the hatch. Examining everything,
Pine Spirit Staff 8/12 durability
0/10 Charges of Fear Sending (Rechargeable) On Crit ¨C Strike to Torment (Save vs Mind or suffer agony)
Sacrificial Knife 476/500 durability
Soul Siphon on Hit versus defenseless foe
Silver Belt of Haste
+10% to Movement Speed (cost 1 MP/5minutes)
Maul of Maiming
When wielded with 2-hands, all hits have 20% chance to cripple
Platinum Earring of Storage
(locked) She had no use for the Staff, Maul, or Knife, but could see how valuable they might be. The belt she wrapped around her waist, having it become a coin belt. The silver contrasting nicely with her dress. The earring she turned over and over in her hands as she sat at the base of the ladder. A precious metal, a large clear gem that looked like a diamond. Did she dare leave it out to be seen? Not that there had been anyone to steal anything. Still, how did it work? Wynter sent a tendril of mana into the earring, which it absorbed happily. More and more mana flowed in until at 120 mana the ring was suddenly full, but it still just sat there? ¡°Well, Queenie? Want to tell me the secret?¡± Wynter looked over at the matriarch¡¯s corpse, ¡°No, I don¡¯t suppose you do.¡± Tugging down her right earlobe Wynter reached across and taking a deep breath plunged the pointed stem through her ear. Quickly screwing on the stem cap Wynter clapped her hands. ¡°There! That¡¯s done.¡± As she went to stand she stumbled as suddenly she saw not the Kobold Camp, but a swirling void holding stacks of items. None remained in their crates. Maybe three dozen rifles, as many metal ammunition cases and a large pile of magazines. A small pile of five, no six, tubes that reminded her of the bazookas from old movies. Only a few areas remained empty. Overwhelmed, she almost missed two books laying next to each other. The covers glowing faintly. Wynter reached to the books and they flew to her hand, and suddenly she was back in the campsite with the books in her hand. She looked at the ladder she was going to have to climb, and the three over stuffed backpacks and pile of weapons. Lifting the backpacks, she smiled, ¡°Open up!¡± ¡°Open Sesame?¡± ¡°Storage Open?¡± ¡°Oh, you have to be freaking kidding me!¡± ¡°Allahkazaam!¡± her growling tone rising, ¡°Abra-ca-fucking-dabra!¡± Then looking to the shadow torches, ¡°Can it be that easy?¡± Sending a touch of mana into the earring it opened. She left the backpacks and weapons inside and noted there was very little space left. She was a little worried when she tried to take the earring off and found the knurled cap to now be smooth and no matter how hard she tried it wouldn¡¯t turn. She tried focusing on it to Inspect it,
Platinum Earring of Storage
96/100 Capacity Then turning to the two books,
On the Clarity of Will
Minimum Req: MND 16, INT 12 Granted: MND +2, INT +2, VIT +1, Class: Psiontist, Psionic Arts +1, Skill: Meditation +1 Uses 1/1 remaining
The Hundred Steps
Minimum Req: AGI 14, STR 12, VIT 12 Granted: AGI +2, PER +2, VIT +1, Trait: Nimble Reflexes, Skill: Martial Dance Uses 1/1 remaining She saw that she didn¡¯t quite qualify for the Dance manual, but she was pretty sure dancing wouldn¡¯t help a whole lot. The first book though. She opened the cover and started reading. Each page turned amazed her further. Was the Mind really laid out like that? Meditation increased the rate her Mana and Psionic pools replenished by how much!? Not realizing she had sat there for most of an hour, as she closed the book after the last page, it crumbled to dust. Each word, each diagram, now engraved on her mind and soul. Returning the Dance Manual to storage, she examined herself, Titles: Bunker Buster Name: Wynter Race: Beastkin ¨C Felidae (Shadowcat) Age: 18 (March 22nd, 2032) Traits: Racial ¨C Affinity to Shadows, Racial ¨C Darkvision, Racial ¨C Obligate Carnivore, Racial ¨C Sensitivity to Light, Racial ¨C Natural Weapons, Racial ¨C Natural Armor, Learned ¨C Toughness 1Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Class: Novice Dancer HP: 84 MP: 144 (136) PP: 180 SP: 89 AC: 6 Evasion: na Dodge: 26% STR: 11 VIT: 14 AGI: 18 INT: 17+1 MND: 20 PER: 18 CHR: 6 (18 base) Luck*: 2 Skills Small Blades: 2 Hand-to-Hand: 24 ::Martial Kick: 17 ::Martial Strike: 24 ::Martial Throw: 6 Armor: 12 Parry: 18 Dance: 16 ::Exotic: 16 ::Folk: 12 Acrobatics: 14 Jump: 11 Climb: 8 Dodge: 13 Tracking: 11 Stealth: 18 ::Sneak Attack (passive): 3 Survival: 3 Accuracy: 19 Sex: 9 ::Foreplay: 7 ::Oral: 6 ::Anal: 1 ::Lesbian: 3 Psionic Arts: 20 ::Reinforcements: 19 Psiontist: 1 :: Meditation: 1 Shadow: 11 Inspection ¨C 9 Lore (General) ¨C 5 0% ::Lore (Beastkin) ¨C 3 0% Professions (0/4) >none Spells (3/0/3/0) >Physical Reinforcement 14 (STR) >Vision Reinforcement 14 (PER) >Health Reinforcement 21 (HP) >Sense Shadows (5MP) 1 >Shadow Step (40MP) 1 >Shadow Armor (1MP/Sec) 3 (+Armor, +Stealth) Equipment >Fine Snakeskin Robe >Platinum Earring of Storage >Silver Belt of Haste >Poor Copper Ring of Intelligence =-=-=-=- Giving one last look around, Wynter tucked two of the shadow torches into her belt and started climbing. Doing her best to not look down, she hooked an elbow around the top rung and after a near slip, the key finally slipped into the lock. Turning the key right, then left, nothing would make it move. Twisting hard she felt that the key might break. Looking down, there must be a hundred rungs on the ladder. Was there a different key hidden down there, a different way out? One last thing to try, she gathered up her mana and like she coated her fur, she sent it into the lock, shielding and reinforcing the key. Turning the key again, she twisted harder and harder until there was a tiny give. Sending her mana in further she felt the pins and springs that had been covered in soils and debris as the moisture above trickled in. Using her mana like a tiny blade she pushed, scraped, disposed of all the obstructions. Nearing the end of her mana, Wynter gave one last try. With a click the lock fell away as it snapped open. Wynter had to push and push hard as the disused hinges slowly yielded. Fighting her way off the ladder and into the enclosed space, she looked around. Almost like one of the burrows she had slept in, this space was barely as long as she was. Having to close the hatch to get to the exit she looked out into the forest. Climbing out she looked up at the heavily overcast sky, ¡°Well! Which way is west?¡± the a second later, with a laugh, ¡°Does it matter?¡± Flipping a metaphorical coin, she closed her eyes and spun, giggling a bit she took two unsteady steps, ¡°Okay! This way!¡± And marched off. =-=-=-=- Wynter had stopped counting days but she supposed it was about a week after leaving the Bunker. Her days spent walking almost straight South now. She practiced [Shadow Step] and [Shadow Armor] almost constantly, [Reinforcement] as well. Whenever she ran low she would pause and use [Meditation] until fully charged. Only last night she had a breakthrough and while she was killing her daily rabbit, the shadow armor on her claws changed into a new skill [Shadow Claws] that seemed to work the same as the armor but gave bonuses to penetration and damage. She recharged her two active shadow torches, they didn¡¯t work in direct sunlight but here under the canopy of leaves they eased the strain on her eyes. It was nearing evening when there was a loud noise, *CRACK* *CRACK*! Without her will or intent, Wynter¡¯s body twisted into a sudden backbend and roll. Two voices sounding out, ¡°Shit! You missed it!¡± a bit gruff but sounding young. ¡°Well, you did too!¡± slightly higher pitched and even younger sounding. Spotting the two men some distance away Wynter used [Sense Shadows] and then [Shadow Step] to appear behind the two. [Shadow Armor] and [Shadow Claws] flowed over her, [Physical Reinforcement] pumped power into her muscles and for the first time she felt it boost her agility as well. [Stealth] flowed through her as she all but vanished in the evening shadows. Stepping up to the two, she saw two boys, maybe fifteen or sixteen looking. Dressed in green camouflage and holding rifles. She was readying to strike when a voice came from the side, ¡°Jenkins, Brewer? Damnit! You two wasting ammo again?¡± ¡°No sir!¡± said the older looking one, ¡°It was a Beast!¡± Wynter looked over and saw an older male, his camouflage having a set of badges and rank emblems. A rifle slung over his shoulder and a pistol and knife at his hip. The stern expression on his unshaven face even frightened Wynter a little. ¡°What? Another Rabbit or Elk?¡± ¡°No, sir! It walked upright, but it wasn¡¯t human. It didn¡¯t move right!¡± said the older one again. ¡°Is that right, Brewer?¡± ¡°Yes, sir! It was right there as we shot it!¡± ¡°Well, then, where is this phantom Beast? Tell me that hunh?¡± Wynter grabbed the two boys by the backs of their necks and lifted them up onto their toes. ¡°That would be me right here.¡± She smiled politely, ¡°These two children yours?¡± Seeing her appear out of thin air, he stepped back and reached for his rifle. Seeing the thin trace of blood, but no real signs of great pain he froze, then spoke carefully, ¡°I take it my two idiot charges didn¡¯t hurt you? If you could see yourself to maybe releasing them to my care, I will have them polishing pans until they are old men!¡± ¡°Done, then!¡± She duck-walked the two over to the older man and with a push, left them sprawled at his feet. ¡°I am Wynter, well the last name doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°Sergeant Frank Jones, at your service. Would you like to come to join us for dinner?¡± ¡°I would be delighted! It has been ages since I had a cooked meal.¡± The Sergeant grabbed the two boys and walked off, Wynter following behind. Whispering, unaware that Wynter could hear them, ¡°Idiots! What made you shoot at someone in a dress?¡± ¡°She¡¯s not human, and Pastor Rickett says as how all them not humans are just Beasts in disguise.¡± Said Jenkins. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s all furry and stuff!¡± said Brewer. ¡°Stop listening to Pastor bigot and do your jobs. Brewer, run ahead and let them know we are coming, don¡¯t want any mistakes.¡± Shortly they entered a clearing with upwards of a hundred soldiers moving about at various tasks. ¡°Here. Take this tent. Dinner will be in an hour and I¡¯ll have some come and get you then. Water and clean towels are inside. Just let me grab my things.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t take your tent!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just bunk with my men tonight. We leave in the morning, so it won¡¯t be an imposition at all!¡± With that, he grabbed up an armful of clothes and a shaving kit and was gone. It was the first chance since she had awoken to get clean. She was amazed at the tangles and mats her claws pulled out. She would have to get a good brush at the first chance. Once all her fur was at least laying smoothly, she pulled the Snakeskin Robe back on. Examining herself in a handheld mirror, her face was flat and shaped like hers had been before. The grey fur now surrounding eyes that were a green that was so dark it was almost black. Her lips and tongue now black, her teeth more jagged and razor sharp. Running the mirror over the rest of her, her breasts seemed plumper, her waist thicker, her hips more rounded over muscular thighs. Where the tail emerged in back it held the skirt up, exposing her cute tight butt. Did she just think of her butt as cute? Damn. She¡¯d been away from people too long. ¡°Ma¡¯am? Dinner is ready, and your presence is requested.¡± She looked out at young Brewer, ¡°Lead the way.¡± Arriving at a huge tent. Several folding tables had been set up. Folding chairs on all sides. Young Brewer led her to her seat next to a man with a chest full of medals and ribbons. The man rose and held her chair for her as she seated herself. ¡°Allow me to introduce myself. Colonel Gerald Perry, commanding the 138th Infantry Regiment. Welcome to Kansas, as this damn map calls it. We are currently in what would have been Iowa. So, my dear. Where are you from?¡± ¡°Me? Well, my name is Wynter, with a ¡®y¡¯. I was from the Twin Cities, right at Ground Zero. I got to watch as the crystal came down. Then, well, I think everyone close was killed. It sounded like I was one of the last to be restored.¡± ¡°Restored, hmm, yes. But what have you been doing this last decade since the event?¡± Before he could answer, trays were carried in and set in front of everyone. She lost the thread of the conversation as she ate. The soup was too salty, but her body seemed to need it. The vegetables overcooked and limp, she only pecked at. The roast slice of meat in a savory gravy, and the bread she blotted up the last of the gravy and juices with, she couldn¡¯t get enough of. The dessert a cornbread in a seared honey crust she almost inhaled. ¡°Ah¡­ It has been so long since I last ate a cooked meal. In answer to your question from before the food arrived. To me it hasn¡¯t been ten years, it has been more like a month and a half, maybe two? The Core explained some basics to me, then threw me out. I appeared in a forest and have been wandering since. I did find a place, Bunker #3, that had been overrun by Kobolds and have all the loot I could carry after killing them all.¡± ¡°You found Bunker 3?¡± asked the Colonel. ¡°Where is it?¡± At the same time as a chorus of others exclaimed, ¡°No way she cleared it!¡± ¡°Wow! She is amazing!¡± ¡°I wonder who did it for her?¡± ¡°Braggart!¡± Turning to the Colonel, Wynter answered, ¡°I really can¡¯t say exactly where about six days walk from here to the North. I just didn¡¯t have a map or compass, so can¡¯t know for sure.¡± ¡°Compass? Those things haven¡¯t worked since the Event.¡± Pulling out a stone, a 3D map appeared. Using a pinch like with a smartphone he shrunk the map until the entire USA lay before her. Only it was so different. Where there had been state lines and highways, now there were scattered cities and huge hexagonal chunks. The entire country seemed like five or six hexes across, and four top to bottom. ¡°The US has changed that much?¡± ¡°The USA? Gone, none of the nations really exist, at least that I have heard of.¡± ¡°Why not? Seems like a solid government is needed in times like these?¡± ¡°You really don¡¯t know? Every hex has its own rules, its own laws. We are pretty lenient here. Most Tech and Magic work fine. Now to the Northeast are those Chicago Bastards! Magic doesn¡¯t work, really High Tech works there, even Psionics is weak there. Then we have places like New Orleans, trader a while back came through, said no Tech higher than steam engines, and that all Magic is stronger there. Radio no longer works, so no one knows what the rest of the world is like.¡± ¡°Even this map stone?¡± ¡°Yes. This can only show at best the three hex rings around you. Not even that in any detail.¡± =-=-=-=- 005 Sales and Sensei Wynter awoke to the sounds of trucks loading, tents being taken down, and people yelling orders. Already a horrible morning, stepping out into full sunlight only made it worse. ¡°Perfect timing Wynter! I was just coming to wake you.¡± An all too cheery Sergeant Jones greeted her. Holding out a breakfast wrap to her was all that saved his life. ¡°Say, Sergeant?¡± Wynter looks around nervously, ¡°Would the guard be interested in buying several things like this?¡± Her hand reached and was suddenly holding an M16. With a flick, her hands were empty again. ¡°That¡­ that was amazing. Almost no one has a storage device. I think they are made in a different map¡­¡± ¡°Focus Sergeant! Focus! Buying the things?¡± Wynter chided. ¡°Umm, right, the Guard directly, no. We are financed through the Mayors of the cities, and the Governor. They are the ones that buy such things. If you had a good storage device, you might be able to buy a city!¡± She was rescued from his enthusiasm by a soldier running up with a question. Gods. A horrible morning became worse as Wynter was directed to the back of a century old truck that one of the soldiers called a ¡®Deuce-and-a-half¡¯. Seventeen soldiers and their kits crammed into the back of a canvas topped sweatbox whose front vent flap pulled in all the diesel exhaust that was fighting with the soldiers for who stank worse. Sheer boredom had her sneak out the Dance Manual and find she was now qualified to read it. The Hundred Steps wasn¡¯t just about foot placement. It was mostly about the entire body and how every step needed a corresponding gesture, or body movement so that perfect balance was always maintained. At first, thinking that the partner''s steps were some kind of choreography, only to realize the ¡®partner¡¯ was an opponent and the two were fighting. The steps and gestures showed how to weave and twist to avoid a blow while positioning to make an optimal strike in return. As the Dance Manual fell to dust, Wynter just smiled as her legs twitched with a need to dance. The convoy trundled on. The fine concrete and asphalt roads were gone. Replaced with packed and oiled dirt. Five hours of a bone-shattering, tooth-cracking trip did little to improve Wynter¡¯s mood as the day wore on. ¡°Hey! We are at the edge of the city!¡± One soldier looking through the front flap cried out. Wynter looked out at a huge metal sign, once on some grand highway. ¡®Welcome to Kansas City! Pop- 2,400,000 41,000¡¯ ¡°That many lost?¡± she spoke in wonder. ¡°That is just the remaining citizens. A lot died, some moved away, some became Beasts and killed a bunch in a rampage. A lot are Ghosts.¡± The blas¨¦ way they spoke of the mass deaths bothered her more than the deaths themselves. ¡°Ghosts?¡± she asked. ¡°Ghosts are the ones whose minds snapped. They are afraid of everyone and anything. The refuse all help. Every year when the cold hits we find a building full of them, all frozen solid, even though there might be a shelter next door.¡± Yes, they saw death as commonplace and hardly worth commenting on it seemed. ¡°So, with all that empty room, where do people live?¡± Wynter looked at the city which seemed mostly intact. ¡°We plowed under a few areas as farmlands. Pulling the livestock into the city proper. Most people live in Midtown these days. The Beast-kin have an enclave to the south side near the old slaughter yards. There are two different religious compounds on the north side, as far away from the Beast-kin as they can get. You can¡¯t really see from here, but fires ravaged much of the west side, gangs gutted downtown, and every year the Beasts have a mass migration through here.¡± ¡°Damn¡­¡± was all she could say. They debarked at a park surrounded by mansions and fine homes. Colonel Perry took his leave of a Dancer he saw little use for. ¡°Well, Ms. Wynter. The fine folks in the building across the way will be glad to assist you with lodging as you seek ¡®employment¡¯¡± the derision in his voice very clear. ¡°Thank you for your kind assistance Colonel Perry, sir. Might you be able to direct me to the Governor¡¯s offices? We have business together.¡± Wynter added a coy giggle to further fuel the astounded look of shock on the Colonel¡¯s face. Following his pointed finger, she curtsied and walked away, adding extra sway to her hips until she was sure the Colonel was no longer watching. Wynter entered the designated mansion, finding a reception desk set up immediately inside the door. An older woman, hair greying, face too smooth to be real, sat at the desk. Appraising Wynter head to toe, ¡°What can I help you with?¡± the woman asked. ¡°I would like to see the Governor.¡± ¡°Do you have an appointment? He is far too busy to just walk in upon.¡± ¡°No, I don¡¯t. I still need to see him, and I think he¡¯ll want to see me.¡± ¡°I highly doubt that!¡± the woman gave a sniff, ¡°An unwashed urchin just cannot impose on the Governor. I¡¯ll have to ask you to leave! Guard?¡± Chosen for his size and intimidation factor, Wynter could have taken him with ease. She had to admit, after a day in the truck, she could smell herself and it wasn¡¯t pleasant.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. =-=-=-=- Wynter left the Governor''s Mansion and headed to the boardinghouses in search of a bed and a bath. ¡°Hello, Dear!¡± Wynter had barely walked in the door when a woman came, she looked youthful and energetic, yet gave Wynter a feeling being ageless and weary. Long pointed ears cried Elf, but she couldn¡¯t think of a polite way to ask. ¡°I am Mrs. McDowell, but please call me Faith. Are you looking for a room? Let me show you around. Currently, we have five others staying here¡­¡± Wynter watched in amazement as this woman, this Faith dragged her around the entire place. Faith never stopped speaking unless someone cut her off. No other staff was in evidence, yet the place was spotless. ¡°Meals are three times a day, between 6 & 7 both morning and night, and precisely at high noon. Meals run one Mark each. Lodging is also a Mark, but the doors lock at 9 pm and unlock at 6 am. No one gets in out of hours.¡± ¡°A Mark? What is a Mark?¡± Wynter squeezed in as Faith took a rare breath. The boardinghouse was¡­ interesting. It was also a lesson in the state of the economy. A simple meal or a night¡¯s lodging would cost a single Black Mark. The coin was a disk that seemed made of Obsidian. A Copper Mark was worth ten black ones. A Jade Mark was ten copper. When Wynter had explained she had no coins like those, Faith had produced a box. ¡°Place a hand on either end and push in ten points of either your Mana or Psionic pool.¡± Wynter had done so and after a second a Black coin had slid out. ¡°The Mark is a unit of labor. The coin you just produced, someone else can pick it up and use the Mana to power something else. Now take the coin in your hand and send a bit of mana into it.¡± The coin dissolved away and Wynter felt the mana flow into her. ¡°And that is the cycle. Those with surplus send power to those that can use it.¡± ¡°Can this box produce the larger coins?¡± Wynter asked curious. ¡°Yes, but you shouldn¡¯t run dry, you¡¯ll suffer¡­¡± the house mother stopped as the first one, then a second copper mark slid out, followed by five blacks. Keeping one of the blacks, Wynter pushed the others over, ¡°That should last six days, right?¡± Freshly bathed, she went back to the Governor for the next three days, being turned away brusquely each time. She spent the balance of each day Dancing the Hundred Steps until she started to lose the individual moves, one step moving within the next. No longer separate steps and gestures, but a process. She realized that shadowboxing would not help much any longer, she needed a trainer. Meditating, she produced marks three times a day. An hour each day spent touring the market informed her as to prices. A thousand things she had little idea of their use or value. However, the market made it clear that magic and such existed and wasn¡¯t all that rare as buskers performed some miracle between every established shop, hucksters prowled the crowd selling a thousand dubious things. It also made it clear that bigotry was alive and well, the lines had just changed. No longer white versus black versus brown, no, now it was Human versus Elf versus Beast-kin. Half of the Human vendors wouldn¡¯t acknowledge her presence even waving coin at them. The fourth day she went to the Mayor¡¯s office, and while the Mayor was said to be too busy, after an hour wait she was guided to his aide¡¯s office. ¡°I am Ms. Eileen Jackson. I have heard about you trying to see the Governor, what could be so important?¡± ¡°I accidentally found an old National Guard Bunker and after defeating the Kobolds that had invaded it I was able to retrieve some of the Military Goods. Now I would like to sell them.¡± ¡°Just what type and how many are we talking about?¡± Looking around the small and crowded office, ¡°Well, Eileen. We¡¯ll need more space, a lot more space. And I would prefer privacy as well.¡± ¡°We have a basement conference room, will that work?¡± The aide said, intrigued. Entering the room, ¡°This should suffice.¡± Wynter then started pulling out items. When after five minutes and no sign of Wynter slowing, the aide ran out of the room, but Wynter barely noticed. The aide returned towing the Mayor to find Wynter sitting in a chair panting, ¡°I think that is, oh, wait,¡± she produced a stack of Training Documents. ¡°There, now that is all of it.¡± Receiving 62 Jade Marks, 320 Copper, and 200 Blacks, Wynter had exhausted the City¡¯s coffers and they would be delivering a letter of credit to the Boardinghouse this evening. Not five steps out of the mayoral offices a Human in a suit approached her. ¡°Ms. Wynter. I am Lieutenant Governor Simon Fruth and I have heard you have some interesting items for sale? We can offer top Mark for any and all of it!¡± ¡°Had, Mr. Fruth had. Your dog at the door was successful in defeating my attempts to speak to your office, so I went elsewhere. I may not have made top Mark, but I closed the deal and it is all in the Mayor¡¯s hands now. Good day!¡± Wynter didn¡¯t mind sending him off disappointed, money itself meant little to her, she could just literally make more. With that in mind, she hit the market, soon owning a coin marker of her own. She went hunting skill books. This time when she flashed coin, Jades attracted all but the worst bigots. The selection of books was poor, she could learn Sword, Mace, or Shield usage from a dozen stalls. Profession books were also somewhat common. Hand-to-Hand seemed unheard of, likely since Humans lacked the weapons for their hands to be effective against Beasts. Two Jade bought a Psiontist Manual,
The Doorway to the Heart
Minimum Req: Psiontist 10, MND 18, CHR (16) Granted: MND +1, CHR +1, Skill: Empath Uses 1/1 It wasn¡¯t hugely useful, but a useful skill was still a skill. As she was walking away from the vendor, she turned back, ¡°Excuse me? One last thing, is there someone likely to have Skill books for the Martial Arts, or is there a trainer nearby?¡± ¡°Go to that Bakery you see over there, the one with the white painted front? Directly behind it, follow the road, two or three blocks. The trainer is around there.¡± ¡°Thank you!¡± She said as she handed over a few Blacks. The building was well hidden, no fancy sign, painted over windows, just a small sign on the door. Entering there was a chime and three Humans looked at her, one built like a pillar, all straight lines and not a trace of fat. One an older Asian woman with her hair pulled back into a severe ponytail, was slim, almost petite. The third a slightly built man whose features she forgot almost as soon as she looked away. ¡°Hello?¡± Wynter said into three severe faces, ¡°I was wondering if I could get training? So far, it is all stuff I have learned on my own.¡± ¡°Well, come up here girl and show me what you have. Nothing lethal, but don¡¯t pull your punches.¡± The Pillar said as he dropped into a classic boxing stance. Without warning he moved, Wynter bent and twisted, as her feet moved and her body followed. He kept advancing, crowding and pushing her. Neither able to land a solid blow, Wynter flowing out of the way, the Pillar deflecting her punches and kicks. After a couple minutes, he called, ¡°Hold!¡± And stepped away, ¡°Next!¡± As the forgettable man replaced him, the strikes lacking the raw power of the Pillar, but coming in so fast they were almost impossible to dodge. No single hit debilitating, but they were adding up. ¡°Come on girl! I can sense the power within you! Bring it out, show me what you have.¡± Her fur blackened, her claws extended twice as far and curved into hooks. The light around her dimming as a handful of charged crystals hit the floor. The Forgettable Man threw something down of his own and was lost in a cloud of smoke. Her body twisted as Evasion activated, somehow, he had gotten behind her. Two could play that game and she used [Shadow Step] to get behind him and barely remembered to blunt her claws as they ran across his neck. ¡°Hold!¡± he walked away rubbing his neck, ¡°Next!¡± The Asian woman stepped into the shadow and moved with her eyes closed. Wynter¡¯s every strike sidestepped, her kicks met only air, her dodge carrying her directly into a palm strike that left her on her back ended it. ¡°Child, gather up your shadow stones and then we will talk.¡± 006 Passion and Prejudice Bai Yunying watched as her new student moved through the opening moves of the basic Wushu pattern. ¡°See! I told you two her movements best match mine!¡± ¡°But her stealth and assassination potential is unsurpassed. She must learn my Ninjutsu.¡± Oscar Posca stated quietly. ¡°She is too small and too weak, but her killing intent makes her ideal for Krav Maga!¡± Levi Lipinski said forcefully. ¡°Just make up your minds before I die horribly of indecision, okay?¡± Wynter gasped as her breath came shorter and shorter from running one exercise after the other. Bai Yunying looked at the drained crystal. ¡°To think! My student using T1 Beast stones as flashlights. So awesome, or so stupid? Hey! I didn¡¯t say you could stop!¡± Wynter ate a dinner from the meal carts, letting her find deals with more meat until an aroma came to her. One of her favorite pre-Event foods that were too fatty to really enjoy. This gyro had a fingers length of meat and seasonings stuffed into a freshly baked pita. Wynter ate two, then was nibbling on a third as she headed South, heading to Beast Town. About six blocks of abandoned buildings and homes separated the more affluent midtown from what could only be called a ghetto. The buildings looked and smelled of age, damp and decay. Far more than ten years should bring. Eyes watched her, some went indoors or crossed the street if they saw her coming. Primarily she saw wolf-kin, a few cat-kin, but what really amazed her were the rare rabbit-kin and now a squirrel-kin. When she arrived at the center of the district the atmosphere changed. From shy and paranoid it became boisterous. A huge diesel generator sat on the street. Heavy cables running into four bars or clubs. The two directly in front of her, the ¡®Wolves¡¯ Den¡¯ and the ¡®Growl and Howl¡¯ left no doubt they were wolf bars. Still, Wynter was curious. Walking into the Wolves¡¯ Den. Packed wall-to-wall with Wolf-kin, and few humans in the mix. An antique jukebox cranking out tunes that were new when her parents were children. The crowd silenced as she entered. She heard comments spoken at tables near the door, ¡°Damn, another one!¡± ¡°They don¡¯t belong here!¡± ¡°Hey, Pussy! Wanna come play?¡± Then a single loud voice, ¡°Hey! Get out of here! We don¡¯t serve cats here!¡± The bartender shouted again. ¡°Come here and we¡¯ll serve you right up!¡± She glared at that table, then turned to the bartender. ¡°Where then?¡± she shouted back. The bartender flipped a thumb over his shoulder, pointing further South. ¡°Now Git!¡± Wynter got. Wondering how they recognized her species. A small bar and eatery, ¡®Micks¡¯ sat across from a club ¡®Pussy Liquors¡¯. A peek in the door of Micks showed it to be a plain working bar. Nothing fancy, just food and booze. Steeling herself Wynter entered the club. The overly bright strobes swept the gyrating crowd. The music of a live band roared out in a volume to rival an erupting volcano. Smokes that were likely beyond illegal combined with alcohol and the scent of sex drove a wild crowd nearly insane. Everywhere around her, things smelled¡­ right! Fighting her way to the bar, Wynter had seen plenty of clubs on her fake ID, this one''s shelves were sorely lacking. She had to reach over and grab the bartender to get his attention, once he saw her he gulped, and the scent of fear came off him, ¡°I want whatever you have that is nearly lethal! And a beer chaser!¡± The bottle had chunks of some faintly glowing mushroom in what smelled like vodka. Two fingers in a tumbler, he handed to her with a warning, ¡°Don¡¯t swallow the mushrooms!¡± With a smile, she downed the tumbler through clenched teeth. Her mouth went numb before the tumbler hit the bar. Her chin followed it down a second later. ¡°Smooooothhhh¡­¡± she slurred a second later. Grabbing the brown glass bottle, she went off to dance. It all blurred together as she ground against everyone that ended up in front of her. A large male tortoise stripe was the first to pull her into a kiss, but his overly aggressive wandering hands made her push him away. A black furred female with a dress that threatened to tear open every time her massive bosom swayed nearly had Wynter melting in the middle of the dance floor. Until a pure white angora pulled the black away and pulled Wynter into an open-mouthed kiss. The whites tongue pushed in two capsules that Wynter swallowed, only thinking afterward, ¡°What were those?¡± Wynter asked directly into the white¡¯s ear as she nibbled on her neck.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. ¡°Catnip, honey, pure catnip.¡± As the white licked and chewed on Wynter¡¯s ear. Two songs later the white pulled Wynter into a darkened hallway. Wynter had never been so horny. Her thighs slick and the white cupped her, and Wynter wormed her fingers into the white¡¯s tiny panties. Her mind whirling, her slick fingers in a race with the white, both seeking make the other scream first. Suddenly Wynter was torn away, the white falling with a disappointed shriek as Wynter was carried out the door into the alley. A much larger and bristly face replaced the white at her lips, and a hand twice as wide as the white tried forcing two fingers into her. Rather than resisting she spread her legs and let the fingers enter. A minute later she tipped back her head and yowled to the stars. His fingers fumbling at his fly as he dropped her back to her feet. She knelt and undid the fly. One look at his erection confirmed they were no longer fully human, she didn¡¯t even pause as she opened wide and took him in. His hands in her hair as he slammed into her face, a touch of fear rising as he expressed no concerns for her safety. Faster and faster until with a roar he filled her mouth and gave a few final thrusts as she gulped his seed down. Wynter wanted more, but not with him, not tonight. She turned to go back inside and find the white. Mostly sober now, but still hornier than she had ever been. A step later a hand grabbed her arm, spinning her around. Aware now that the male holding her was another Shadowcat, identical to her coloration. He radiated possessiveness, her empathy crying out at the hollow that was his soul. ¡°You¡¯re mine now!¡± He growled at her, ¡°Come home and meet the family!¡± ¡°You¡¯re hurting me! Let me go!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll never let you go! We are bound together, we are one now!¡± He went to drag her out of the alley. [Shadow Step] she vanished from his grip. As he searched and turned back and forth in the alley, he committed the often lethal sin of not looking up. Wynter clung to the second-floor window ledge as she powered up [Stealth] and watched him rage below her. Inspecting him gave clear results,
Michel Radovich
Novice Brawler (enraged) He moved off at a stiff pace. Wynter almost let him go, but curious about the only other Shadowcat she had seen she kept her stealth up and followed him. He exuded none of the feeling of Shadow she knew hung around her. He went to an apparently abandoned home. She watched as he moved around inside, then as she watched he opened a basement door and went down. She couldn¡¯t find any window wells so just strained her ears. ¡°Wake up, you stupid slut! Time for your medicine!¡± ¡°sorry¡­ sorry¡­¡± came a weak and quiet female voice. ¡°Get me ready to fuck you!¡± he commanded, she never heard the other answer. ¡°That bitch will come crawling to me! Just you wait and see! You bitches think you can tell me no! Turn around, butt up!¡± ¡°You all,¡± thud, ¡°think you have a say!¡± thud, ¡°Well, you don¡¯t,¡± thud thud, ¡°I¡¯ll catch her and break,¡± thud, thud, ¡°until she can never say no again!¡± thud, thud, ¡°Ahhhhh! Just like that.¡± She could hear him move off as the unknown female quietly cried. [Sense Shadows] the entire house was filled with one. [Shadow Walk] and she knelt next to the crying female. Swiftly moving, Wynter placed her hand over the other females mouth and whispered to the thrashing form, ¡°Quiet. I am trying to set you free.¡± The struggling woman stilled, mumbling ¡°Who?¡± into Wynter¡¯s hand. ¡°The name is Wynter. More later.¡± The woman¡¯s fur was matted and bloody. A heavy leather dog collar around her neck held on by a padlock to a chain that was set with concrete into the floor. There was a ridiculous cat litter box on the floor. A large bowl of dried cat food and a gallon jug of warm stale water. ¡°Do you know where he keeps the key?¡± ¡°In a pocket on his belt, I think.¡± She whispered. ¡°Okay, wait here.¡± She just looked at Wynter with an odd expression. Wynter crept out and searched the house. Finally, finding him in a second-floor bedroom. The room was full of loot and things that obviously were stolen. Placing her hands near his neck, she pumped everything she could into [Shadow Claws] and with a sudden jerk, separated the bastards head from his shoulders. The neck in between pretty much gone. His belt did yield a key. A box on the floor gave up a dress, panty, bra, and heels that she guessed belonged to the woman downstairs. ¡°Hey. I¡¯m back.¡± ¡°Quiet! Won¡¯t he hear?¡± she whispered back. ¡°Nah. He¡¯ll never bother you again. Now let¡¯s get this collar off.¡± The collar fell away, and she started sobbing. ¡°Hey, I can hardly be a hero if I don¡¯t know the name of the Fair Maiden I am rescuing.¡± ¡°Hardly a maiden anymore. Stacy, Stacy Simmonds, executive assistant extraordinaire! I also cook, sew, clean, and pretty much all the household things.¡± ¡°Hmm, here is your clothing, or I think it is. So, was that a list, or an audition?¡± ¡°I doubt after all this time I have a job, or anywhere else to go?¡± ¡°For now, okay. Get dressed we need to get moving.¡± They weren¡¯t two blocks away when Stacy started sagging against Wynter. A block later watchers would have seen an odd sight. A female in a club style dress carrying another in an even skimpier dress. A teen gang moved to approach the pair when with an audible sigh the sleeping figure was laid on the ground. The standing figure pulled two short rods from somewhere and the middle of the street vanished in a blot of black the spares streetlamps couldn¡¯t begin to penetrate. Arriving back at her boarding house, Wynter looked at the sleeper, ¡°Well, I¡¯ve never tried this before. So, if we explode into a bloody mist, or are swallowed by demons, you¡¯ll never know, eh?¡± Pushing her [Shadow Armor] out to cover not just herself, but the figure in her arms. ¡°Here goes nothing.¡± [Shadow Step] Wynter staggered, but stayed standing, barely. ¡°Now, what did I say was the curfew? Hmm? And a new tenant, in the middle of the night? No, we can¡¯t have that at all.¡± Faith stood there sternly. ¡°You can see us?¡± Wynter sighed, ¡°Just let me have tonight? We¡¯ll be gone in the morning. She has had a tough time, and I am exhausted. Who do I see about buying a house anyway?¡± ¡°Rules are rules! Get her a bath, she reeks of blood and violence, and be gone by noon, okay? In the market are the three realtors. Don¡¯t offer more than 15 Jade for a house, don¡¯t pay more than 20. Be sure the place is connected to the new gas, water, and power. Oh, and be sure to send a gift every month to the fire, police, sanitation, water, power, and gas people, a Copper or two every month should be enough. You¡¯ll want all the old appliances and furniture disposed of and replaced, another few Copper each. Meisner¡¯s in the market makes the best custom furniture¡­¡± Wynter fought to stay awake to hear all the advice, but this couch was so soft, and Stacy so heavy¡­ 007 Domesticity Wynter awoke. A pleasant warmth at her back. She cracked open one sleep sealed eye and recognized the plain decorations of her room in the boardinghouse. There was an arm thrown casually over her, the hand splayed between her breasts. The mottled grey fur on the arm, where it wasn¡¯t covered in old and new blood, filth and unmentionable fluids, was a lighter grey than Wynter¡¯s own with a gleam of silver mixed in. Wynter felt her heart beat faster as a scowl set in. That splayed hand that held her so tight had two fingers that didn¡¯t bend right. The gorgeous fur on the arm was thin and dull as fresh gouges competed with old scars. If this single thin and frail arm had wounds like this, what must the rest of her be like¡­ Oh¡­ Stacy! Memories of last night flooded in. Wynter trembled in barely suppressed rage. She wanted to go back and resurrect the bastard, just to kill him slowly. Then do it all over again until the sun grew dark¡­ Gently, lifting the arm, Wynter pulled away to stand beside the bed. She was almost afraid to turn and see what had been behind her. Who had been behind her? It was worse than she had thought, could possibly have thought. Stacy¡¯s face had swollen overnight, one eye closed with a trickle of blood seeping from under the lid. Her lips split and swollen. Scars and fresh claw marks everywhere on a body so thinned from starvation as to be drum tight skin stretch across bones. Even the bones were damaged. Wynter dashed down the hallway and started the tub running. Getting it warm, but not hot, she found the unscented soaps and clean clothes. Then setting the drain to trickle away to match the low flow of fresh water. Wynter returned and lifting Stacy settled them both into the warm clear water that turned muddy brown as Wynter gently worked away the filth. Only then becoming aware that the unconscious woman seated in front of her was at least a hand taller than Wynter. Small moans as she pressed a bit too firmly let Wynter know Stacy was awake. Opening her [Empathy] she saw Stacy was all over the place emotionally. This swipe of the soapy hand towel brought comfort and peace, but just a second later a similar swipe brought stark terror. Remembering helping her Mother with the younger children, Wynter started humming old lullabies, she didn¡¯t know the words, but the tune was what was important. Remembering the Bastard¡¯s Use of Stacy last night, Wynter feared a possible pregnancy. Calming Stacy in advance, ¡°Shh¡­ Just relax. I won¡¯t hurt you. I just have to clean you, inside. Okay?¡± The barest nod of a head without a whisper of sound. Wynter gathered her mana, sending in first across the outside of Stacy, the waves of Shadow gently pushing away any remaining dirt and matted fur. Then gathering a thread on mana Wynter pushed it into Stacy as she had a rusted lock, feeling her way around, even here there were scars and fresh wounds. The shadow poured inside and removed every trace of the Bastard¡¯s filth he had left there. No bastard child, Wynter was glad to see. Finally, Stacy was as clean as could be. The wounds remained. ¡°Stacy? Did you ever learn to Reinforce your body, especially to heal?¡± ¡°no¡­¡± came a whisper that even enhanced senses could barely detect. Wynter continued humming, but her mind reached in and grabbed her Psionic Energy as she had her Mana. Pushing a thread out at Stacy. Only to have the thread rebound from the surface of Wynter¡¯s own skin. She pushed, then threatened, cajoled, and even begged, but the thread just would only go so far. Thinning the thread down to the merest whisper of power she coaxed it to her skin and an entire fingernail¡¯s thickness beyond. In her excitement, the thread dissipated. Wynter started again, only to lose control again. At long last, the thread reaches the length of her thumb and held steady waving above her skin. Excitement filled Wynter as she pressed the thread down to heal Stacy, only to have the thread dissipate. ¡°Arrgh! Why couldn¡¯t Manual have been about this, not that stupid [Empathy]?¡± Feeling Stacy shaking a bit in her arms, ¡°Oh! You think this is funny, do you? Well, what about this?¡± and Wynter¡¯s hands danced across ribs and sensitive flesh as she tickled Stacy into a sodden mass, limp in Wynter¡¯s arms.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. ¡°Ah! That¡¯s it! It isn¡¯t me and my energy I need to convince to let my healing in, it¡¯s you¡­¡± Psionic energy flowed out of Wynter and the swelling started going down, the fresh wounds faded, but soon Wynter reached the end of her energy. Notifications flashed ¡°I¡¯ll do more later, Okay?¡± A gentle knock came at the door, and even though it had been locked, the door opened. ¡°Are you two alright? I detected a high¡­¡± Faith stopped, aghast at the now clean figure sitting in faintly brown water, every washcloth and hand towel soiled on the floor. ¡°Don¡¯t you two move! I will be right back with clean towels and something to wear.¡± Scooping up the soiled towels. Like a force of nature, Faith whirled out of the room. ¡°That woman has more energy than anyone I have ever even heard of.¡± Wynter chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t you know?¡± Stacy twisted to look Wynter in the face, ¡°Faith, and the ones like her, they are the House¡¯s Attention, for lack of a better word. The House is alive and acts through Faith. The house I lived in was less energetic, but Temperance ran a nice house.¡± ¡°Is every house alive then?¡± ¡°Oh, no!¡± hearing Stacy¡¯s giggle lifted a weight from Wynter, ¡°Only the larger, nicer, well-loved properties awake.¡± A plan settled into Wynter, several plans. =-=-=-=- Wynter crumpled the property brochure and lobbed it at the abomination. ¡°Needs minor repairs and some TLC?¡± ¡°Well, it does, I guess.¡± Stacy seemed the optimist here. ¡°What it needs is to burn down, fall over, and sink into a swamp.¡± Wynter shook her head. ¡°Let¡¯s run back to that bakery, those pierogis smelled delicious.¡± Wynter couldn¡¯t help but notice that as light and happy as Stacy acted, she was seldom more than a single step away from her, and often held Wynter¡¯s hand or arm. What did Wynter want? She had never really thought of the future until there wasn¡¯t one. Wynter pictured herself, a Beast Hunter, as Mayor, a Colonel, as Sensei to grey-furred children, even as a scholar and teacher to Stacy and her children¡­ What did she really want? And why did Stacy appear in her future images? Such thoughts¡­ Enough! Right now she had carmelized pastry wrapped around shredded meat, pungent cabbage, and an abundance of onion and paprika. That was enough to worry about. Stacy stood to drop their plates in the bin to be washed. Wynter watching her walk. She was so pretty now when she got meat on her bones she would be gorgeous indeed. She needed to replace these plain things and get something cute for Stacy. No, no¡­ To distract herself Wynter checked her notifications,
New Skill Learned ¨C Psychic Energy Manipulation Control of your Psychic energy in and beyond your body
And
New Spell Learned ¨C Psychic Healing Heal others at 6PP per HP Other Healing as skill progresses
She was coming along. Opening her stats, the first thing she did was to accept a pending class change, Titles: Bunker Buster Name: Wynter Race: Beastkin ¨C Felidae (Shadowcat) Age: 18 (March 22nd, 2032) Traits: Racial ¨C Affinity to Shadows, Racial ¨C Darkvision, Racial ¨C Obligate Carnivore, Racial ¨C Sensitivity to Light, Racial ¨C Natural Weapons, Racial ¨C Natural Armor, Learned ¨C Toughness 1, Acquired ¨C Evasive 1, Learned ¨C Nimble Reflexes 1 Class: Apprentice Martial Artist HP: 102 MP: 152 PP: 198 SP: 124 AC: 6 Evasion: 16% Dodge: 26% STR: 13 VIT: 17 AGI: 20 INT: 18+1 MND: 22 PER: 22 CHR: 6 (18 base) Luck*: 0 Skills Small Blades: 2 Hand-to-Hand: 25 ::Martial Kick: 17 ::Martial Strike: 25 ::Martial Throw: 6 Wushu: 4 Ninjutsu: 1 Krav Maga: 2 Armor: 12 Parry: 18 Dance: 18 ::Exotic: 16 ::Folk: 12 ::Martial: 17 Acrobatics: 14 Jump: 11 Climb: 10 Dodge: 15 Evasion: 1 Tracking: 12 Stealth: 24 ::Sneak Attack (passive): 13 Survival: 4 Accuracy: 21 Sex: 10 ::Foreplay: 9 ::Oral: 7 ::Anal: 1 ::Lesbian: 3 Psionic Arts: 24 ::Reinforcements: 24 ::External Reinforcements: 5 Psiontist: 14 ::Meditation: 13 :: Psychic Energy Manipulation: 3 Shadow: 14 ::Shadow Manipulation 12 Inspection ¨C 11 Lore (General) ¨C 5 ::Lore (Beastkin) ¨C 3 Professions (0/4) >none Spells (4/0/3/0) >Physical Reinforcement 19 (STR/AGI) >Vision Reinforcement 16 (PER) >Health Reinforcement 22 (HP) >Heal Others 4 (HP) >Sense Shadows (5MP) 13 >Shadow Step (40MP) 5 >Shadow Armor (1+MP/Sec) 10 (+Armor, +Stealth) >Shadow Claws (1+MP/sec) 6 Equipment >Fine Snakeskin Robe >Platinum Earring of Storage >Silver Belt of Haste >Poor Copper Ring of Intelligence =-=-=-=- Not a Chapter Rant On! So, about 24 hours ago I was at the Mall of America and took an elevator. Some rude woman took out a spritzer of perfume and loosed a blast over each shoulder. One caught me directly in the face. I have never had an allergic reaction before, and I have no idea what the perfume was. I spent the next half hour sneezing and coughing. Ribs are still sore. I thought I was okay after a while and bussed home to a shower. This morning I woke up effectively blind in one eye as it was swollen closed and I was wheezing so bad. Went to Urgent Care and they said they couldn''t handle me, so I was sent to the ER.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! So PISSED! Will be in the hospital at least 24 hours all because some woman was too vain and totally uncaring about the people around her. If I had even paid attention to her, she would feature for a particularly gory death in a future chapter. Phone set to ''Angry At World'' playlist Rant Off Edit:Just a brief update. Since I have been home I have been suffering periods of intense depression. The words just aren''t coming reliably, and what little I do write is crap.