Arriving at the ritual site, my hairs stand on end, static electricity bristling on the edge of my fingertips. Something's not right, yet I'm oh-so drawn to the altar. I need to know which of my ancestors I embody.
Ignoring that inherent feeling of wrongness, I approach the stone altarpiece, standing central of the decagonal prism spire of marbled pillars. I remove my clothing and use the sharp barb at the end of the altar to slice into my arm, spilling blood over the surface of the cool-grey stonework that promptly absorbs my offering, glowing to signal the beginning of the process. All I need to do now is lie on the altar and wait. Which is what I do, deftly laying my bare body on the stone and closing my eyes.
My other senses take in my surroundings whilst my sight is blocked, reaching out to figure out just what is wrong with this place. It's sacred, supposedly safe, yet the alarms in my body signal for danger.
The longer the silence stretches on, the longer nothing happens, the deeper this feeling becomes. It's something instinctual, something I shouldn't ignore. My eyes snap open, and the moment they do, my world fills with dark blue light and a force knocks the air out of my body, spittle and blood filling that blue glow like makeshift stars in the sky. There's a shockwave, a pulse, and my body is thrown off the altar with such intensity that I'm suddenly airborne, rapidly falling, spiralling dozens of miles away from the altar. The air around me warps, something tugs against my being, and my entire surroundings change, as if a portal welcomed my entrance. Day turns to night, clear grasslands below me change to dense forests, and distant cities on the skyline disappear from sight.
My landing is far from graceful, resembling a flailing chick attempting to fly, harshly colliding with the ground, tumbling against trees that stop my momentum. Bones snap, organs pierced by the misshapen structure of my skeleton. The world goes dark as my consciousness fades, and I'm helpless to stop it.
No one would be alive after what just transpired, yet here I lay, consciousness returning, breathing and alive, and my body regenerating as if there was no damage to begin with, alive. The last of my bones snap into place, the whole regenerative process lasting what I can only assume to be a few hours at least, and my deep hunger returns. My innate thirst for the blood of mortals. Piecing events together, I deduce that the more blood I drink, the more energy I have, which fuels my unnatural regeneration as a Strigoi. Fascinating.
The pain I feel becomes but a phantom in my mind, no longer experiencing it now that my body has regenerated. Sure, I hate pain, yet some part of my existence enjoys it, savouring the feeling that signals my growth, my survival, my resilience. I grin, unable to help myself, however, my expression quickly fades as a chill creeps through my veins.
_
MISSION ALERT:
Objective: Survive.
Task: Find prey and drain them of blood. After regenerating, your body lacks the vital energy needed to survive. Feast and reclaim your energy.
Reward: Double Experience and Mutagen from the subsequent prey chosen.
Penalty: Your immediate demise.
Accept the mission: Y/N?
_
…what? My body lurches forward, coughing up blood. Pain flares, scorching my veins, though it's somehow quite pleasant. Forcing my feelings away, my mind instead spirals as I consider the implications of this… translucent red… notice? Mission? I've never seen something like this before. As my body moves, I notice something about me feels different... abnormal yet natural at the same time... again. I felt more complete after being turned into a Strigoi, but not entirely 'whole'. Now that the weird phenomenon has passed, launching me to this unknown location, I truly feel like myself. Like I've been pieced together, sewn back whole and complete. My Esse-Statera really has brought me back to my balance, to my internal harmony.
My eyesight has become sharper again, much like after I was turned, only now I have these strange glimmering hues dancing about in my vision. Translucent as they may be, they still catch my full attention. Not that I have a clue as to their origins or their functions.
Looking down at my body, I'm taken aback. Instead of my pale skin greeting me, ghostly white scales resembling iridescent white pearls with shimmering pale blues and purples, depending on how the light catches the texture, take its place. Black talon-esque claws dig into the dirt beneath me. I swivel my head, my neck longer than I remember, and assess the rest of my body. My wings remain unchanged, only adapted to the size of my new body, which is no bigger than the size of an adolescent wolf. The same can be said for my tail, and I assume my horns too, though I can't see them atop my head, only glimpses of them in my peripheral vision as they curve, guided to curve around the structure of my skull, slightly like a ram. I've never seen a creature resembling the way I look. Despite being physically changed twice in such a short period of time, I've never felt so lax as I do now. It's like my body is finally my own, stripped of my old body that was controlled by my family, granted a new one as compensation. Or maybe this is who I'm truly meant to be.
I shake my head, ridding those thoughts as a new notification appears, text hovering in front of me.
_
Survival Missions are automatically accepted.
Time remaining: 6 hours.
_
Well, that solidifies my next steps. Finding prey is a must if I want to live to see another day. Half of me wants to refuse, to rally against the absolute absurdity of what's happened to me in the past day or two, but for the sake of my future, the sake of improving myself and setting out to do what I know I'm capable of, I hold back.
Glancing around, I observe my surroundings. A forest. An endless, spacious and verdant forest, where its canopy is reigned by none, simply consisting of a variety of trees fightinging for more light yet permitting some of the shimmering light to descend between their branches, catching on the abundance of mushrooms and flowers covering the ground beneath, sprinkled about in a disorderly fashion. The ground I'm lying against. Amber vines sweep from one tree to the next, coiling around bark and branch alike, providing more colour and brightening the otherwise dark green backdrop.
Yet, despite the nature I'm surrounded by, providing for those that seek its nurturing, my senses pick up on no animals. No birds, no beasts. If there are no animals I can prey on, how am I going to survive? The raging hunger grows desperate within me, filling me from the depths of my soul.
My eyes flicker as I stand, beginning my exploration of my immediate surroundings. Perhaps there's some sort of lake or cave nearby that hosts the beings I seek. Anything with blood will do; the mission notice didn't specify.
To my luck, I stumble across a large, fallen tower with a dirt trail within its structure descending into the depths of what I suspect is a cave, walls ragged, stone jutting out in sharp angles, waiting to scrape those who aren't spatially aware.
_
Alert:
Time remaining: 2 hours.
_
I dismiss the notification, along with all my curious thoughts about my predicament. I can mull it over later. Right now, I need blood before my body fails me. Without hesitation, I begin my descent into the cave. I duck out of the way of precarious spiked rocks ensnared by the ceiling, careful of my footing against loose stones scattered about the floor.
_
Notice:
Host has entered a dungeon: Level 1
Descend to lower levels to fight stronger beings.
_
Oh? A dungeon? I know of these from my time learning at the local academy in my village, Erasidal. Dungeons are typically seen as property of the most dominant beings of that continent, either elves, beastkin or humans, and to enter, one would need a permit. Regularly, only those with a grey core or above can enter, and, depending on your core level, you'll be able to descend to deeper levels of the dungeon. Grey cores tend to stay in the first level, and the second level if they're confident enough, due to having low levels of power in comparison to other core levels.
Black core is the stage everyone starts at, it's the beginning of the journey into the realm of magic and cultivation. Then, as they gather more mana and hone their skills, their core develops, going through the stages of black, grey, brown, blue, amber, and gold. As of yet, no being has surpassed their golden core. I, myself, am at the grey core since I haven't focused too much on mana and, rather, focusing on honing the skills of my body and current abilities before delving into the wonders of the arcane.
This day would mark my first time entering a dungeon. I can't dwell on the status of my core, simply just surviving- I'm knocked out of my thoughts from this mental tug, a prompt in my mind coming to the forefront, linked by the thought of [Status].
_
*Command received - 'status'*
Opening status...
_
Name: Saskia
Level: 1
Species: Dragon Hatchling (Vampriae) [I]
Attributes:
Strength: 32
Durability: 29
Intelligence: 50
Will: 37
Mana Points: 0/0 (FORM YOUR CORE""FORM YOUR MANA VEINS)
Stamina Points: 30/30
Skills:
(Species Skill) Claw Swipe: Level 1 [I]
(Species Skill) Harden Scales: Level 1 [I]
(Species Skill) Tail Slap: Level 1 [I]
(Exclusive Skill) Morph: Level 1 [I]
Available Morphs:
Drakkaris (draconic beaskin) - Required mana: 50
Modifications:
Host currently has no modifications/mutations acquired. Spend Mutigens for acquisition.
Reserves:
Mutigens: 2
Skill Points: 1
I'm a dragon? And why is it telling me to reform my core and mana veins?…