“Reason for visiting New York?”

  “Trading beast hides!” The guttural voice of an actual ogre resonated through the long line of both tired and excited looking travelers who had walked what remained of the I-95 up from Philadelphia, Baltimore, and other locations safely in the White-Tier arterial zones that had already been claimed and colonized by various factions.

  The young huntress who had been patiently waiting for her turn to enter the grand walled city before her, smiled as the final crimson shafts of the setting sun kissed the soaring granite walls and parapets surrounding New York city, guarded at least as well as Freetown, which was probably prudent, considering the Orange tier region just a half mile away from the city’s northernmost border.

  Of course the cast iron barrels of the 24-pounder long guns sticking out of a number of reinforced gunports built into the massive city wall gave it an imposing presence quite different from the sleek and now very futuristic look of Freetown. But such was perhaps precisely what was needed to ward off grazing behemoths that early paranoia might have painted as far too likely to dabble in foliage beyond hypothetical and purely artificial borders, long before it was understood just how distinctly different the Mana intensity was in wild versus tame regions that at their most extreme, created barriers that even Bronze-tier swarms of locusts couldn’t hope to cross without monstrous degrees of pressure being applied with the help of outside forces. At least that would be the case until beast tides eventually overwhelmed the planet, in a few short years to come, if too many of Earth’s more challenging dungeons and territories were left untamed and ascension wasn’t properly channeled in more positive directions.

  Of course the variance was quite a bit less steep between Orange and White tier regions than what a certain swarm of locusts had to contend with, the chestnut-haired huntress knew that all too well as she overheard the whispered comments muttered by weary travelers as they gazed both her way and toward the city itself, with hungry, desperate eyes.

  Yet just as it was true that even the most fearsome sauropod was unlikely to breach invisible barriers unless a monster surge was eminent, and the prehistoric beasts encountered had been surprisingly gentle, save for one extreme encounter, so too it was that even the most hungry-eyed men were, by and large, civil and gracious before social barriers that had once stood so tall and proud within their culture, just a short apocalypse ago.

  Even for those that had once served savage masters, as evidenced by a pair of hard-eyed men with the powerful bodies of those who had proven themselves as classers, hitting level 10 the hard way and advancing to Javelineers. Men who had clearly proven themselves as both hunters and leatherworkers as well, if the finely made rawhide armaments they wore, even if covered in food stains, was any indication of their prowess in tackling the wilder beasts still to be found in the White-tier Northeast corridor. Between them, they handled a mule train leading a number of wagons piled high with treated rawhide and exotic looking furs.

  “You like what you see girl?” The closest man said, beady eyes leering as he flashed what he no doubt meant to be a charming smile but came off as a leer through his unkempt beard. His hands tightened on the shaft of the boar spear he casually used as a walking stick, a prickle of nerves that his demeanor couldn’t hide, and the huntress spotted the double brace of javelins the pair of men kept in the closest wagon.

  “You want to feel any of the furs? As fine and soft as any ermine cloak you could want!” The second, shorter man declared with a smile that was actually charming, though he had the same hungry look in his eyes. “They’re worth a good bit of silver.” He then rubbed his beard as if in deep consideration while the tired-looking woman leading another trade wagon behind him from which the yells of children roughhousing could be heard, rolled her eyes.

  “Or, if you like, maybe we could work out an arrangement… a trade, where you didn’t have to give up any coin at all!”

  The object of their interest stared at them both for long moments.

  Tension spiked. The pair of men traded an anxious look and apologetic grimaces.

  “What we mean to say, is if you’re really interested… we could teach you how to make the most of the land. There’s an actual feast of delicious meat and tubers out there that will fill your belly every night, if you know the ways of the hunter!” The bearded man said just a bit desperately.

  The huntress did her best to hold in her bemusement, her earlier glare turning into a forgiving smile.

  “No need, my friends. As you can see, I’m a hunter myself. Even if the tool I use is different from your javelins.”

  The shorter man cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, girl, but your pack looks pretty light. Your bow looks fine as can be, no doubt! But knowing the secrets of preserving the softest fur and forging the finest rawhide armor for yourself makes all the difference between an empty pack and a wagonload of good rawhide and fur for crafting armor and the finest, most supplest cloaks and clothes! Good professions are hard to come by… but we’re not above teaching an honest student,” he finished with a bit too much eagerness, his clean white teeth alone breaking his greasy image and making it quite obvious that he and his companion were both Classers, even to mortals.

  The huntress held in a sigh, her Social Perception making it impossible for her not to see the anxious young men for what they were. She crooked a single finger, the shorter man’s eyes widening in impossible hope as he approached, his own heart skipping a beat as he clenched his spear with tight, nervous hands.

  “My names Ronald. Please to meet you, miss…”

  His words died off under the huntress’s gaze. Features blanching, stepping back as if sensing… something in the underbrush that perhaps he didn’t want to get too close to.

  The woman could feel countless gazes from bored travelers casually glancing their way, eager for anything to break up the monotony, so she kept her voice soft, having no desire to humiliate the pair before her.

  “Riddle for you, Ronald. What’s the best attribute to catch elusive prey?”

  The man’s eyes brightened lips curving in a pleased smile. “Without a doubt that would be Finesse. Quickness and Strength if you’re in a war… but the hunt’s all about Finesse. Let’s you step through the underbrush without making a sound. Because you might only have one perfect shot at taking down that buck before he senses you approach and breaks, losing himself in the undergrowth.”

  The blond haired beauty smiled. “I agree. Finesse can make all the difference. But what would you say about Perception? How many choice targets does the blind hunter miss that the more Perceptive hunter sees?”

  Ronald blinked rapidly, eagerly nodding his agreement. “I think you might be right about that!” He said thoughtfully. “Maybe Perception is the best attribute, to make out all the juicy hidden prey.”

  The woman’s gaze turned pitying. “And how many choice pheasant, dear, and other game escape both the eyes and javelins of desperate hunters starving for lack of fare, who fail to invest in either of those two stats?”

  This earned a sad chuckle, the man sighing and shaking his head. “I fear that an entire forest full of fine game would seem as barren to them as a desert. It might look lush and lively from a distance, but they’ll never find a single choice specimen or be able to hunt it down worth shit.”

  The girl flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Exactly. So, tell me, Ronald, how close are you to your next level?”

  The man flushed, lowering his gaze. “I… um… it’s been slow going, ever since I hit level 20.”

  The Huntress blinked, a bit surprised that the man had revealed such a personal piece of information to a complete stranger. She gave him a sympathetic smile. “I see.”

  “But my skills continue to grow!” The man hastily said with a blush to his cheeks. Even if, Um… slowly. And I’m almost at level 21.” He forced a laugh. “Maybe I just need more challenging game is all.”

  The huntress’s eyes grew sympathetic. “It sounds like you’ve already mastered the art of hunting wild prey, at least around here. But since it’s clear that’s not the only game you’re after…” She flashed a sympathetic smile at his sudden flush. “You understand. Good. There are two other attributes you might want to put a few points into. Because this is real life, not a game. And as satisfying as a good hunt can be, having someone special to greet you coming home with the sound of laughter and the smell of fresh baked cookies will bring you as much joy as the best cast spear.”

  The taller Javelineer frowned. “Wait, are you saying we should take up a cooking skill?”

  Ronald sighed. “No, man. She’s saying we should boost our Charisma. Maybe our Appearance, so we’re not making fools of ourselves while talking to girls way out of our league waiting for the damn guards to pass us through.”

  His friend groaned. “I .wish we had the points to spend. But it’s so damned hard to get levels now! Everything’s too low level.”

  The huntress shrugged. “Well then, I guess you gentlemen have a choice. Get just a bit better at what you’re already talented at, obviously,” she said, a graceful hand gesturing toward their fur and rawhide filled wagon. “Or take a chance and invest in an attribute that will benefit every other part of your life. Because if you’re reaching your natural peak and you’re going to be hale and healthy for decades if not centuries… why not spend that time enjoying city life on easy mode where everyone’s more likely to be your friend? Even if all you gained was a sense of how to dress better or exactly what not to say. And those two simple things might change the trajectory of your entire life. And the best thing is, those five points you invest will go a hell of a lot farther bringing a below average 8 to a handsome college-preppy 13 who just knows how to dress to impress and all the right things to say, than say, a slightly stronger cast to your spear with your Strength going from 25 to 30.”

  The bearded man’s eyes widened. “Shit. How the hell did she know three of my stats?”

  Ronald sighed. “Not all of us can quantify and raise all our attributes. Some idiots are luckier than others,” he said with a glare for his smirking friend.

  “So raise what you can. Appearance or Charisma. Either one with good intentions will get you places. Even if all you got is Scholarship boosted so you can study and learn from people it all comes so naturally to. Of course a good head on your shoulders will also open all sorts of additional doors and opportunities beyond hunting and making cool new friends. But either way you do it, once you find someone, just remember to treat them with respect, never take them for granted, and I think you’re set.”

  The pair of hunters gave slow, thoughtful nods.

  “I think she has a point.”

  “I know she has a point. Fuck if I’m not boosting Scholarship all the way to fifteen, next level!”

  The girl suppressed a wince, keeping her smile firmly in place. “Scholarship’s one attribute I recommend putting no more than one point in per level… maybe two, if you’re reaching your peak. But I think you should both check out Ashland territory, near Freetown. Maybe taking on slightly more challenging prey than what you’re used to is all you need to break through your perceived bottleneck. I hear they have a number of profitable delves.”

  Those final words were said loudly enough to carry, a whisper that quickly gained momentum, though Ronald scowled.

  “Wait, isn’t Freetown in upstate New York, near Lake Ontario? You’d have to cross the wildlands to get there, right?” Ronald shuddered, shaking his head. “No thank you. That would kill any man who wasn’t part of a damn large caravan.”

  The girl shrugged. “Fair. Though I also heard a rumor that Blue Corp’s making efforts to form a clear passage from Freetown right to the I-95 Northeast trade corridor, including New York. It will be a fresh trade route that brave hunters like you two might want to be a part of. And best of all… unlimited opportunities to explore Ashland’s wealthy-tier delves. Delves that are multi-layered, with zones that progress all the way down to fiftieth level delves. Even eightieth level delves! And deeper still. As deep as you like. For hunting as safe and easy or perilous and profitable as you like!”

  Her words, deliberately projected, caused a dozen of eyes that had only been paying peripheral attention to the amusing scene of a cute girl counseling a pair of clueless cats in the comportment and competency department. Yet her last words were clear enough to the many other Classers clearly waiting in the long line along the dirt road, and that most if not all of them had the savvy to put at least a few points into Perception.

  “Excuse me, girl. Did you say… wealthy tier delves?” This from a handsome man wearing stylish leather radiating arcane enchantments. His flawless features were blessed with twinkling warm brown eyes and an easygoing smile.

  The huntress grinned, gently turning Ronald around and pointing to him. “See what I mean? A few points in the right places, and the world’s your oyster.”

  Ronald’s eyes lit up.

  The charmer chuckled good-naturedly. “The lass has a point,” he said, happy to play along. His features gained an oddly magnetic intensity. “Now, about those delves, my fascinating huntress.”

  “A dozen endless delves with the boons of Adventurer’s Promise and Adventurer’s Paradise. The dungeon depths progress in five level increments and you’ll find a boss tier guarding the gate to the next depth. And since each level is it’s own miniature realm, massive open worlds twice the size of Ashland, that’s thousands of square miles to hunt and enjoy solo or with your friends on each level, and you can all party together to take out floor bosses as you like. Once you do, you earn a soul token to the next depth, and can port there from the entrance, whenever you return.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  The last traces of the crowd’s murmurs died off with her words. The charming rogue’s smile became a look of deadly seriousness. “Truly?”

  The girl solemnly nodded. “My cultivator’s oath upon it.”

  The man blinked. “I felt that.”

  She grinned. “So did I.”

  This earned a laugh. “Fascinating! And what’s to keep predators in our midst from hunting honest adventurers in an open delve?” He said with a pointed look at a pair of coolly smiling men on horseback wearing chain mail hauberks and half helms and wielding crossbows a short ways behind him, their calculating gaze screaming Bounty Hunters to the girl’s Social Perception.

  The farmost Bounty Hunter smirked. “Funny, Rick. Real funny.”

  The charmer smiled. “We’re on New York City soil, in sight of the guards. You know the rules.”

  This earned a cold laugh from the closer of the pair, patting his doubleshot crossbow. “You have to leave sometime, Rick. And we’ll be waiting.”

  The other smirked. “In the meantime, we’ll be enjoying some R & R in the city. I’m sure we’ll be seeing lots of each other, Rick.”

  The girl smirked. “As to your question, Rick. Ashland’s now Blue Faction owned and operated. You’ll find the accommodations they’re building to be top notch and world class, with all the amenities you could hope for, including European style villas, tree-lined boulevards, spacious condos and townhouses, grassy parks and high-end shopping, top-tier restaurants, and warm communities you could raise a family in. Safely. Like before the fucking apocalypse. Best of all is the amnesty from Lawfare clause. No bounties, warrants, writs of arrest or twisted goblinoid contracts hold any truck within Blue Corp territory… so long as you obey the laws. And Blue Corp law number one is you don’t fuck with other delvers on a delve. Oaths are taken to that effect.”

  She favored the pair of scowling Bounty Hunters a hard smile. “And that goes both ways. Everyone’s welcome. All factions. So long as it’s understood that Ashland is a safe zone for everyone. You break that truce with more than insults or a casual bar fight, and you’re never touching Ashland’s wealthy-tier delves or shopping again.”

  Rick whistled. “Sounds like a very sweet setup indeed. Maybe worth checking out.” He stole a glance at the pair of scowling Bounty Hunters. “Once the route through the territories leading to Blue Corp holdings are actually safe, I mean.”

  The closer horseman glared at the smiling huntress. “How the hell do you know all this? What’s your angle, and why are you sharing such valuable intel with the entire fucking world?”

  The girl’s smile widened. “That’s a damn good question. Why the hell do you think?”

  Rick grinned. “You’re getting a cut of the action. Is that it? Blue Corp hired you to spread the word, here in New York?”

  Ronald nodded. “It makes sense. She’s so fucking beautiful. And kind,” he said with a flush. “I mean, people will naturally listen to her, right? Recruitment’s got to be one of the ways you can make money with a Charisma build instead of a monster or bounty hunting build.”

  The huntress grinned, noted the gesturing guardsmen and sauntered away from the increasingly lively crowd.

  “Name and reason for visiting New York?” asked one of the four guards dressed in plate and mail before the northern gate, secured by a massive portcullis that could easily fit a pair of merchants wagons with plenty of room to spare, that was nestled within the reinforced granite walls that were at least thirty feet high and fifteen feet thick.

  Presently it was open, though she had no doubt that the sharpened steel-spiked grille could be slammed down in the blink of an eye.

  She flashed a pleased smile. Just taking in the battlements encircling all of New York City, sensing their resiliency and power, never mind all the tens of thousands of hours of labor it would have taken to build without the territory’s own potential enhancing its formation, making it damn clear that New York city was everything that the huntress had hoped it would be.

  A locus point of power and potential.

  The linchpin of the Northeast.

  The culmination of all her struggles and effort.

  The golden prize she was so desperate to claim as her own.

  Heart racing, the huntress solemnly approached the closest guard.

  A pinched, jaded face met her rapt countenance, and perhaps the eyes did widen just a bit. His breath hitched, heart audibly skipping a beat, looking as if sunlight had touched his face for the first time in ages.

  He swallowed, coughed, and repeated his question, though his demeanor was now the furthest thing from that of a jaded guard, his voice was the bright timber of youth struck with an unexpected spark of hope, desperate for faded dreams to kindle to life once more.

  “Name and reason for visiting New York?”

  Gentle brown eyes gazed into hopeful grey as sanguine lips revealed pearl white teeth and the most adorable fangs, eyes lit with mirth and jubilation, her gaze washing over all four suddenly rapt guards.

  “Valoria Hunter. And my reason for coming to New York City?”

  She winked.

  “Conquest.”

  The young guard blinked. “I’m sorry?” He forced an awkward smile. “I know it seems silly, but we’re expected to list names and reasons for everyone who enters. Paperwork, but it pays the bills. So… what should I put down for you? Tourism? Shopping? Looking for employment opportunities?”

  Her smile grew. She gazed down at the spiral notebook and old school pen showcasing surprisingly neat handwriting.

  The youth gasped when letters flared to life before the name he had jotted down.

  “Fuck, my pad’s—” The youth blanched in surprise while the other three guards scowled their way before their eyes raised in sudden alarm.

  “Sorcery. That bitch is using sorcery on Miguel!” said the closest guard, though the hungry look in his eyes as he turned the huntress’s way made it clear it wasn’t for his friend’s sake alone that he roared for the crowd to get back before shouting to his fellow guardsmen who gripped their spears and quickly raced to confront the huntress.

  “Back away from Miguel now, bitch!” The man roared, charging toward her, spear held in a low hanging guard.

  “Destroying government property is a serious offense,” Miguel whispered.

  The huntress smirked, ignoring the rapidly approaching trio of guardsmen now shouting at her for her to get on the ground and ‘assume the position,’ the air abruptly filling with excited whispers.

  “She actually managed to piss that guard off!”

  “What a fool. Now she’s doomed for the stockade.”

  “They’re going to strip her bare and perp-walk her through the city!”

  The huntress paid no mind to the roars of the approaching guardsmen, the murmurs of the crowd, the sudden blowing of horns, and the roaring crash of the massive portcullis slamming shut with a clap like thunder, earning startled cries and curses from the crowd.

  “Damn it, now we’re going to be stuck out here for hours! This fucking perp walk better be worth it.”

  “Oh it will be. That bitch is a looker!”

  Her eyes were locked solely on the trembling man before her, still holding his notebook.

  “You can read my handwriting, can’t you Miguel?”

  The youth trembled, blinking back tears. He jerked a nod. “I… yes!”

  “Then declare it. Declare it for all the world to hear.”

  Miguel froze, gazing at the woman before him, craning his neck up as if she had abruptly grown a foot… when it was he who had fallen to his knees.

  “On the ground now, bitch!” Roared the lead guard, lunging his spear at the back of her knee… before blinking in surprise when he stumbled on nothing, his spear gone. As were the spears of his fellows.

  So fast that the crowd was blinking and staring in disbelief.

  “What the fuck just happened? Why are the guards tripping over themselves like fools? What happened to their spears?”

  “I don’t know, man. But I suddenly have a massive urge to check out the eastern gate.”

  “Same, buddy. Same.”

  Before Miguel could blink, he was gazing once more at the fiery eyed girl who had looked so beautiful, so otherworldly, the promise of a life filled with excitement and wonder a single teasing smile away. Yet all he felt now was terror, as if he were gazing into the eyes of a pitiless winter queen.

  The air cracked with sudden thunder, Miguel frozen by the ruthless countenance of the creature before him.

  His soul a flickering flame before death’s howling gale.

  It was all he could do to choke back his scream.

  “Announce me.”

  Somehow, the youthful guard found his voice, for all that it cracked as he declared her before the world.

  “Valoria Hunter! Contender! Come to claim the throne of New York!”

  A tense silence washed over both crowd and stunned guardsmen.

  For the blink of an eye, all that could be heard was the gentle breeze rustling the grass beside the road as the gatehouse pennons flapped and snapped.

  Then suddenly all was chaos and commotion as gatehouse guards and the men on the battlements shouted and roared.

  The air cracked with gunfire.

  The crowd began to panic.

  Screams echoed through the air.

  The huntress laughed at shots fired, most missing completely, thanks to the awkward angle of their fire. She sauntered over to take a good look at the massive portcullis grill now before her, radiating a permanence and potency that was undeniable as she wrapped her hands around the thick steel bars making up the grate. Impossibly solid and resilient and infused with essence. As were the walls themselves.

  Infused with the might of New York City itself.

  The linchpin of so many hopes and dreams.

  “Get on the ground, bitch! It’s over!” Roared the closest of the guards, the sound of a saber slipping free of its sheath exquisitely clear to the huntress’s Perception.

  “The gates sealed tight, girl! Not even those fucking stegosauruses from next door can break through!” Sneered another guard. “Not even showoffs in power armor, too good for gate guard duty! These fortifications are tied to the land itself!” He chortled with laughter. “No one’s getting through! Now assume the fucking position or we’ll gut you like a—”

  His words died off, as did the screams and shouts of panic. The very air seemed to hold its breath as the girl coolly gripped the reinforced steel grill and gave it a thoughtful tug.

  The air filled with snickers and shouts for the guard to hold their fire.

  “Who the fuck does she think she is? Super Punch Man?” Sneered a voice in the now scattered crowd.

  “Fuck, she’s psycho. A dozen of those guards shot right at her from the battlements with their muskets! I don’t think all of them missed, either. How the hell is she even standing?” Whispered another.

  The gate guards gazed desperately into the crowd. “Official bounty’s just been put out on this bitch. Ten thousand credits to whoever helps bring her down!”

  The roguish Rick chuckled at that, warm brown eyes peering at the pair of Bounty Hunters. “I know you’re tempted, boys, but if I were you… I’d pass.”

  This earned a snort from the closest. “Like we’re going to take professional advice from one of our targets.”

  The second smirked, lining up his shot.

  A scruffy Ronald traded looks with his friend. “Nope. Not doing it.”

  His friend nodded. “Yeah. I think she was right about Charisma builds… but what about common sense?”

  Ronald shrugged. “Can’t have everything, I guess. Come on. Let’s go to the eastern gate. We’ll visit her in the stockade, maybe see if we can pay off her debt and who knows? Maybe she’ll want to adventure with us after all.”

  His friend chuckled. “Yeah, she can declare herself empress all day, as far as I’m concerned. I just hope they don’t… FUCK! Ronald! What the hell?”

  The air rang with a sharp report that was halfway between the ocean’s roar and cannon fire as a tremor shook the earth, several people stumbling to the ground.

  “Holy shit, look! She’s turning beat red and her arms… shit, she’s a Berserker!”

  With a snarl, the huntress pitted her all too human body against the titan-sized gate reinforced by magics that no power armored invader could hope to counter.

  The look in most peoples eyes was that of pity for a fool about to tear their own arms apart, permanently damaging their bodies in their furious desperation.

  Yet those jaded looks became ones of awe when a primordial scream was accompanied not by painful shrieks and pleas for a healer, but by the roar of shattered rock collapsing down upon itself as yelling guardsmen and a massive cannon crashed down where both gate and huntress had stood, just moments before.

  “Jeezus. I don’t believe it. She’s not dead!”

  “How? How did she survive that?”

  Rick gave the pair of stunned Bounty Hunters a pointed look, their once steady grips trembling as they no longer could quite lock onto the brightly smiling huntress who had just torn free a massive portcullis before somehow claiming a full quartet of cannoneers who had come a heartbeat from being crushed by several tons of stone. And how odd it was to see the would-be conqueror treat those shell-shocked souls so tenderly, lying them out beside the other four gate guardsmen, all of them staring at her with big puppy-dog eyes, whimpering like children, no matter how gentle her smile. And how they had suddenly appeared a dozen yards from the entrance that was now a cavernous hole in the wall, and not crushed under tons of rock, was a mystery no one had an answer for.

  “So, you boys still want to collect that ten thousand credit bounty?”

  The closest crossbowman blanched, glared at his mark, and deliberately shot his bolt at a shallow angle into the distant field, far away from anyone, before putting his weapon away. The second Bounty Hunter just shook his head.

  “That girl just tore off a titan-sized gate. Tore it off with so much fucking force that both the portcullis and the gatehouse collapsed. And somehow, for some fucking reason… no casualties. Should be a dozen casualties. Hell, the air was so tight with pressure that you could feel the whole city resisting. Rock should have exploded out from the great big gaping hole that’s now in the city wall, shredding half of us.”

  “I know. I’m surprised we don’t have scores of people needing triage right this fucking second,” Rick admitted, before filling the air with warm laughter. “And will you look at that girl now smiling and waving back at all of us, swaying her hips like she owns the fucking city already!” He sighed, shaking his head with a rueful chuckle. “Poor kid. How long do you think she’ll last?”

  His would-be captor shrugged. “No doubt she just got all sorts of people’s attention. If she was showing off to get hired, she’s a shoe-in. But if she actually dares to take on one of the princes? Two days. Tops.”

  Rick smiled fondly at the chestnut-haired girl whistling so happily as she skipped along the city boulevard. “I’d be surprised if she makes it to first light. But here’s to hoping.” He flashed the pair of Bounty Hunters his widest smile. “Come on, boys, let me buy you both a drink. I can think of all sorts of exciting possibilities opening up with everything that just went down here. Maybe we can work something out.”