The Slums of Ironforge City were a labyrinth of rot-softened timber and mud. Kael moved through the mire, his cloak the color of an old bruise. That cloak, bought for two coppers, smelled of mold and stale sweat. The filth served as camouflage, allowing him to bleed into the gloom.
He reached the Old Quarter. The houses leaned inward, structural exhaustion held in check only by the narrowness of the street.
Silas's shack, Kael thought, halting in the awning.
The hovel was dark. Fresh, mismatched planks blinded the windows, nails driven deep. Even in the biting winter air, a sickly-sweet miasma wept from the wood grain—the copper tang of blood mixing with the sour punch of spoiled pork.
System. Scan.
[ SCANNING... ]
[ ANOMALY DETECTED: 15 METERS ]
[ TARGET STATUS: UNSTABLE / CORRUPTED ]
[ THREAT LEVEL: MODERATE ]
Moderate. Dangerous. Killable.
Kael approached the door. Locked. He slid his dagger into the gap between the jamb and the frame, feeling the tip tick against the latch. Prying would snap the blade. He angled the knife upward, acting as a shim to lift the drop-bar.
Click.
The mechanism gave. He slipped inside and closed the door silently behind him.
The interior was absolute darkness. Kael waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom. Thin ribbons of moonlight cut through the boarded windows, illuminating dust motes dancing over decay.
Scritch. Scritch. Scritch.
Above.
Kael tilted his head back. In the rafters, Silas clung to the beams like a massive tick.
The man was gone; an aberration remained. Elongated limbs possessed backward-swollen joints. Grey skin stretched tight over bone, shining with slime. The jaw hung unhinged, revealing rows of needle-like teeth dripping inky sludge.
"Meat..." The voice sounded like dry leaves scraping stone. "Fresh... meat..."
Target acquired. Kael's pulse held steady. Focus.
SCREECH!
Silas lunged.
He dropped from the ceiling, gravity and hunger driving clawed hands toward Kael's throat.
Kael shifted his weight. Earth Breath Stance.
Evasion was impossible; the creature moved too fast. Kael accepted the trade.
As the ghoul fell, Kael stepped in to meet it.
Iron Breaker Style: The Upward Tusk.
Kael drove his left elbow up to guard his skull while simultaneously thrusting his dagger upward.
THUD.
Silas collided with him like a falling boulder. The unnatural weight drove Kael's boots inches into the dirt floor. Claws raked his left forearm, shredding the wool and carving deep furrows in the flesh.
But the steel found its home.
The dagger buried itself to the hilt in the mutated gut. Kael didn't stop there. He twisted his wrist and ripped the blade sideways.
Schluck.
The sound of wet canvas tearing filled the room. The belly split open. A heavy, grey mass of ropey entrails spilled out, hitting the mud like a nest of wet snakes.
"GRAAAH!"
Silas shrieked, thrashing wild. He backhanded Kael with raw, frantic power, sending him careening into a pile of rotting furniture.
Kael hit the wall hard. Air left his lungs.
[ WARNING: PHYSICAL DAMAGE DETECTED. LEFT FOREARM. RIBS. ]
Kael rolled to his feet.
Silas was butchered. His innards were dragging through the dirt, a gruesome tether binding him to the earth. Yet, the corruption overrode the shock. The beast scuttled across the floor on all fours, faster than a wolf, knocking over chairs with flailing limbs.
Kael stood near the sturdy oak table in the center of the room. He waited.
Fast. Mindless.
But clumsy. As Silas lunged, his hind claw snagged on a loop of his own trailing intestine. The monstrosity stumbled. His momentum broke for a fatal second, crashing into the table instead of Kael.
Kael vaulted over the broken table, bypassing the gnashing teeth. He scrambled onto the creature's back, sinking his boots into the emaciated flanks and hooking his heels into the groin.
Hooks in. Positional Dominance.
Silas thrashed, bucking like a mad horse, hammering Kael against the walls. Kael's legs held like a vice, his center of gravity low and immovable.
"Die," Kael whispered.
He drove the dagger down. Base of the skull. Spine severed.
CRUNCH.
The abomination went rigid. A final, gurgling hiss escaped its throat before it slumped to the floor.
Kael disentangled himself from the corpse, lungs heaving. He wiped the viscous fluid from his face.
[ TARGET ELIMINATED: CORRUPTED HUMAN (TYPE: GHOUL) ]
[ AETHER POINTS: +6 ]
A rush of warmth, potent and pure, flooded Kael's body. It felt intoxicating. The fire in his arm faded to a dull, manageable throb.
Six points. A fortune. Enough to upgrade his Iron Breaker Style instantly.
Kael kicked the corpse aside and knelt by the reinforced strongbox. He smashed the lock with the pommel of his dagger.
Inside lay a pile of grave goods—gold rings, silver cups. And something else.
A piece of dried, human-like skin, covered in shifting, geometric tattoos.
[ WARNING: HIGH-GRADE ANOMALY DETECTED ]
[ ITEM: SKIN OF THE ABOMINATION (FRAGMENT) ]
[ CONTINUOUS AETHER DRAIN POSSIBLE... ]
Kael reached for it. The System buzzed with desire. A source.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Open up! City Watch! We know you're in there, Silas!"
Voices outside. Torches flared through the cracks in the boards. Armored boots stomped the mud.
Kael looked at the skin. It was too large. It radiated a chaotic energy that any mage or sensitive guard would detect in seconds. Possession meant the stake.
He grabbed the rings and coins—easy to hide, high value.
He left the skin.
He bolted for the back window, prying the loose boards open just as the front door exploded inward. Kael rolled out into the muddy alleyway, pulling his hood low. He merged into the shadows, pressing himself against the cold brick wall of the neighboring house.
He paused, peering back through the broken slats.
A squad of City Watchmen stormed the shack. With them stood a young man in expensive furs, holding a perfumed handkerchief to his nose.
Leo, the merchant's son.
"Ugh, the stench," Leo complained, stepping gingerly over the splinters. He glared at Silas's corpse. "My father paid this rat in advance to raid that tomb. If he ran off with the goods, I'll have his head on a pike."
A guard lifted the strange leather skin from the box. "Just this, Young Master. He didn't sell it yet."
Leo squinted. The shifting tattoos caught the torchlight. "Finally. A return on investment." He gestured to his servant. "Bag it. My father collects oddities. At least we recovered something from this mess."
Kael watched the servant bag the cursed skin.
Leo looked pleased. He thought he had found a treasure. He paid for his own funeral.
Kael had missed the artifact, but he had secured the gold and the Aether. And most importantly, he had survived.