Dustend had exactly one quest board, and it looked like it had seen better days. Maybe back when the game was in alpha. The wood was warped, half the papers were torn or faded, and one corner smelled like moldy bread.
Nell leaned on the post beside it. "Rule number one: if it says easy, it's lying."
I scanned the listings. Most were scraps of parchment with scribbled requests: missing tools, haunted wells, strange noises in the woods.
"This one's marked Tier One," I said, pointing at a paper with a drawing of a sheep.
Nell raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah, Old Man Wilkin's murder sheep."
"…What?"
She snorted. "Not actual murder. Probably. He says his sheep are possessed. They keep escaping and—quote—'staring into his soul.'"
I stared at the paper.
Quest: Bleat the DevilTier One – SoloReward: +1 Soul Integrity, 25 Coppers, Wilkin's grudging respect
"…I kinda want to do it."
"Then let's go talk to the goat whisperer himself."
We walked down a winding dirt path toward a small farm at the edge of Dustend. The fence was broken in three places. A single sheep stood in the middle of the road, staring directly at me.
I slowed.
"Yeah, that's probably one of them," Nell said. "Don't blink."
"I wasn't planning to."
The sheep didn't move. It just… stared. Deep, judgmental eyes. I felt more judged by that sheep than I had in two years of court proceedings.
Then it bleated. Loudly.
And ran full speed into a fence post.
Wilkin appeared from behind a shed, holding a rake like it was a weapon. "You one of the new penitents?"
"Yeah," I said. "I picked up your quest."
"'Bout damn time. These demons've been chewing holes in reality. Or maybe just the cabbage patch."
I opened my mouth, paused, then said, "I'll handle it."
He handed me a wooden bucket. "Get the three woolen freaks back in the pen. If you don't get cursed in the process, I'll even pay you."
Nell stayed behind, clearly enjoying herself way too much.
The sheep, of course, bolted the second I took a step toward it.
I spent the next fifteen minutes chasing what I was now convinced was a sheep possessed by a low-tier demon with a grudge. Every time I got close, it darted away—usually into a puddle, or a bush, or my leg.
"Echo Pulse," I muttered.
I triggered the ability at low power—not enough to hurt it, just to create a ripple. It flinched, then stumbled sideways. I took the chance to herd it toward the pen.
Bucket in hand. Dignity in shreds.
By the time I got the third sheep in, I was sweating and covered in mud.
Wilkin clapped once. "Didn't die. Good work."
Quest Complete: Bleat the Devil Soul Integrity +125 Copper Coins acquiredNew Reputation: [Wilkin's Grudging Respect]
Nell held back laughter as we walked away.
"You have twigs in your hair," she said.
"And a deep hatred in my soul."
"You're one of us now."
We stopped back at the town square. It was getting darker, and the fog was thicker. Lamps lit up one by one—each with a soft, flickering glow.
"So," I asked, "is it all sheep and curses?"
"Sometimes. But the quests get serious fast. You'll want to level your Soul Integrity and unlock more emotion-tier abilities before we try anything harder."
I pulled up my stat sheet. It had updated.
[Player: Marcus Vale]Class: WraithboundSoul Integrity: 2Known Emotion: GuiltUnlocked Ability: Echo Pulse INext Tier Unlock: 3 Soul Integrity
"You said there were other emotions?"
"Yeah," Nell said. "The system unlocks tiers based on how you deal with things. Guilt's common. Shame, grief, empathy—they're like keys."
"Sounds like therapy."
"Except with monsters."
We walked in silence for a minute, then I asked, "Why are you helping me?"
She shrugged. "Because someone helped me. And because watching you wrestle sheep was the funniest thing I've seen in weeks."
"Good to know I'm comic relief."
"You'll grow into tragic hero. But for now? Definitely the funny one."
I smiled. It was small, but real.
Then the chapel bell rang.
A system notification appeared in the air.
Alert: A Fracture has been detected near Dustend. Local Wraithbound are advised to investigate. Tier Two anomaly. Proceed with caution.
Nell read it over my shoulder. Her face turned serious.
"That's new," I said.
"Fractures are bad," she said. "They're glitches in the world. Sometimes they leak."
"Leak what?"
"Memories. Monsters. Pieces of code that don't belong."
"…So we're going?"
She grinned again, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. We're going."