Tinker, Tailor, Giant, Dwarf
Author: Gregg Horlock
Date: 2016-12-15 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Unfinished
Description: Nearly 400 pages of swords, magic and action! After a small fortune is spent on getting him into a fantasy game, Eric Templeton expected to last longer than 30 minutes. Instead of being spawned into a newbie village he was accidentally sent to the darkest regions of the map, where creatures beyond his level roamed. Eric stumbled upon a conspiracy amongst some high-level players where they planned to break the only treaty that guaranteed peace in the land, and find the shards that would allow them to summon Necrolor, the most feared player in the game. Together with a giant called Brian and a d

Chapter One

Inquisitor Rigges, Dreadmount

It was said that if the creatures that roamed the crags of Dreadmount didn’t kill you, then the unremitting cold surely would. The Serpent homeland was cut into the side of a mountain range, nestled in a landscape so hostile that few ever wandered there.

Inquisitor Rigges and the others stood in one of the marble domes, so high up that the ground was lost beneath a thin layer of cloud. His body ached and his legs felt like they wouldn’t hold him upright for much longer. He felt sapped from a lack of mana, and when he checked his bar he found that it was almost empty. Just how long did Herelius want him to go on for?

If he felt bad, then the young mage must have felt worse. She was in the centre of the room, her arms tied to ropes that were wrapped around two poles on either side of her. The ropes kept her body upright, but she couldn’t keep her head from slouching down. For a level 6 mage, she’d held out much longer than he’d expected. In his time as inquisitor, he’d seen people of much higher levels succumb to his torture a lot quicker. For that reason, he held a small amount of respect for the girl.

“Hit her again,” said a voice next to him.

Herelius sat on a black iron chair. The metal looked as cold as the icy landscape outside, but it didn’t seem to bother the Serpent commander. His metal armour was so polished that it reflected the glare of the snow outside.

Rigges took a deep breath. He forced the feeling of cold out of his mind and instead focussed on a fire glowing in his hands. He imagined it as a crackling ball of flame. The more he concentrated the bigger it became, until soon he could smell it. His fingers were stained black from the heat, though he didn’t feel any pain. When the ball was large enough he pointed his hands at the young mage and released it.

The fireball hit her in the chest and spread over her robes. She screamed out in pain, tilting her head back as the flames scorched her skin. Her shouts were loud, but nobody heard them so high up in the Dreadmount peaks.

“Where is it?” said Herelius, fixing his cold stare on the mage.

To his right was another mage, but this man was older and more powerful than the younger specimen in the centre of the room. Cruelty was scarred onto his skin like wrinkles. His player name gleamed above him.

Battan555 – Level 81

He was Herelius’ closest ally, and one of the most powerful mages in the land. It was said that there were mages out there who boasted higher levels, but most were guildless, and they stayed away from others. Rigges had never met another mage at Battan’s level.

The young mage lifted her head. Every movement was a struggle, and the pain was written across her face. Her skin was shaded black from the scorching of Rigges’ fireball.

“Where’s what?” she said, her voice strained. “I don’t know what you need me to say.”

“Hit her again,” said Herelius.

This time Rigges looked at his commander. He didn’t want to blast her again. His mana was almost empty, but he was sure he could conjure another blast if he chose. That wasn’t the reason for his reluctance.

“But Herelius,” he said, looking at his commander. “Her HP is barely registering. I might kill her.”

“Would you rather take her place?”

He sighed. Knowing the answer to that question, he concentrated again and gathered flames in his hand. Seconds later the mage screamed in pain once more. He stood and watched as her HP bar slid further down toward empty, and millimetre by millimetre he was sure that she would die. As the flames lessened the damage stopped, and her health bar registered just a fraction. More flames would kill her. Even a match held close to her face would be enough to murder her at this point.

Torture skill increased by 1% (93% until level 60).

As if on cue, Battan555 left Herelius’ side and stood in front of the young mage. He stared at her with wicked eyes and held his hands out. Keeping his stare on the girl in front of him, he conjured a golden ball of energy in the centre of his palms. It was a light too bright to look at, and the edges of it seemed to fizz. When it grew to the size of a pumpkin he unleashed it at the mage’s chest.

She made one last attempt to lift her head as the golden energy surged through her. It was clear from her face that she expected her death, but it did not come. Instead, her HP bar began to rise. Despite the energy increasing her health, she still grunted in pain.

Everyone knew that Battan had started out as a healer. Somewhere along the way his priorities had changed, and he had paid to alter his class to a destructive mage. He still carried his healing spells, but even those caused pain now. As much as they could cure, they could also make someone suffer.

“We’ve been doing this for hours,” said Rigges. “Hurting her, healing her. Hurting her, healing her. She’ll be feeling this pain in the real world, you know. Not just her character.”

“Carry on,” said Herelius.

Battan smirked. “You know I could just cast a spell of divine truth? If she knows anything, which I doubt, that would get it done without all this boring torture business.”

Herelius glanced at the young mage, and then at Battan. There was a twisted look in his eyes. “I know that, Battan. Continue please, Inquisitor.”

The torture carried on until he reached level 60. By that time he’d drunk so many mana potions that he was sick of the taste. When the notification told him that his torture ability had levelled up he felt pleasure, but it made him shudder at the same time. He didn’t find any joy in this anymore.

He’d never admit it to the rest of the guild, but he sought pleasure elsewhere these days. Hidden in his character screen was a skill that none of his fellow Serpents knew about. Practicing alone, he had increased his pottery skill all the way to level 48, and now he could make a flawless crockery set. There was something soothing about shaping a perfect jug, and he’d become so obsessed with it that his house was full of vases. Sometimes, he would even remove his inquisitor robes and dress like a trader. He’d journey to a market town fifty miles across the map and see how much money he could get for his wares.

It was just a hobby, but it would have been the end of him if any other Serpents found out. The Serpent guild was powerful, and good humour was not a quality sought by its leaders. Herelius was the worst of them all; the highest level warrior in the land, and a man who was as cruel as he was unforgiving. Most of the officers were scared of him, and the initiates were downright terrified. There were probably higher level players than him out there, but those people stayed away from guilds. They were like the creatures that lurked in the deepest depths of the ocean; you knew they existed, but you never saw them.

A knock at the door broke him away from his thoughts.

“Come in,” said Herelius.

A rogue hovered in the doorframe. He was a level 11 inductee, and he seemed scared to enter the room. It was as if he wanted the shadows to swallow him up. He held a note in his hand. Battan crossed the room and took it from him. With long and bony fingers he unravelled it, and read. He turned to Herelius.

“Durthan and his men are in position. They intend to attack within the hour.”

Rigges had been dreading this. What they were about to do seemed foolish, and he knew it would have repercussions that were felt far beyond Dreadmount. It seemed he would have to partake in some stupidity of his own and question his leader.

“Are you sure about this, Herelius?” he said. “This will affect everyone in Re:Fuze. We’ll be vilified.”

“Don’t question me,” growled the commander. “Save your interrogation for the mage. Hit her again.”

He checked his stats and saw that his mana had recharged enough to allow another blast of fire. He concentrated and then launched it at the mage. He smelled her hair burning as the flames licked the ends, before fizzing out. It took a few seconds more for the mages’ screams to extinguish. When she was done shouting she gritted her teeth and stared at the ground.

Herelius thumped the arms of his chair. His face turned red, and he stood up.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He crossed the room until he stood in front of her, then grabbed her by the neck and twisted her head until she faced him. “Where’s the dagger?”

“I don’t know which dagger you mean,” said the mage. “I came here to join the guild, I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

Herelius squeezed her neck harder. At his mere touch, her HP bar began to drain, and she took heavy breaths as pain coursed through her.

“Then forget the dagger. I’ll ask one more question, mage. Where is he?”

With all her effort, the mage grunted an answer. “Where’s who?”

Rigges winced. He knew that wasn’t the answer Herelius wanted.

Herelius stared at her as if he was looking deep into her soul.

“Where is the Tinker?” he said.

***

Durthan Thojeff, Outside Calmarnock

The chatter of the army was louder than the shrieking of the wind, and Durthan was amazed that nobody from town had come out to see what was happening. It could have been that they hadn’t noticed that an army had marched to their doorstep. More likely, though, was that they knew they were there but were too scared to do anything about it.

The field ahead of them was filled with crops, most of which looked ripe for harvesting. Beyond the vegetation was Calmarnock. A stone wall surrounded it, but it was not one made for defence. It only reached three feet tall, and in any case, there was just a wide opening where a gate should have been. These people had lived in peace for too long.

Durthan sat on his stallion and held the reigns in his right hand. It was difficult getting used to riding this way when his left hand had been cleaved off, but he’d managed. He was a doer, and not even the loss of a limb would stop him.

Next to him, on a horse of his own, was the thief. Dyzmal, along with the tiresome mage Battan555, was one of Herelius’ closest followers. He was a thief-turned-assassin, and Durthan knew he was one of the slipperiest people you could ever meet. He didn’t want the thief there next to him, but it was better that Dyzmal was here than Herelius himself. The Serpent commander always made him shudder.

“You never asked me why we chose Calmarnock,” said Dyzmal, looking at him. “I mean, we could have picked any NPC town to attack and break the treaty with, yet we chose this one.”

“It’s my job to lead, not to question.”

Dyzmal laughed. “You must be a little bit curious. Don’t act so high and mighty, Durthan. If you were that noble you would have joined the Halons. Don’t tell me I haven’t piqued your interest.”

Durthan shook his head. He wasn’t going to get drawn into this. He knew the games that the thief played with his words. “Not at all.”

“You’re a blockhead.  I suppose you’re so honest that you never even tried to find out where your mum hid your Christmas presents when you were a kid. Well, to answer the question you pretend not to care about, there was a good reason for choosing Calmarnock. And she probably hid the presents under her bed.”

“Are you planning on jabbering at my side the entire battle?”

“We didn’t choose it for the carrot fields or the pretty NPC villagers,” said Dyzmal, ignoring him. “We chose it for what we think is buried underneath the town.”

Durthan turned and looked at the thief with contempt. “I don’t want to know.”

The thief’s horse snorted and lifted one of its front legs. Dyzmal pulled the reigns to calm it down. “So,” he said. “How’s the one-handed training going, anyway?”

He knew Dyzmal was taunting him. Worse, he knew that he had scratched a sore point where the wound itself had healed, but the memory of losing his hand was still raw. He liked to pretend he’d gotten over it, but a part of him was still angry.

“It’s going well enough to cleave you in two if you don’t pipe down.”

“That’s no way to talk to a senior officer.”

The thief’s jibes hadn’t worked, so now he was pulling rank. Durthan decided to let it go, because he had other things to think about. The battle ahead would be tough. There was a time when swordplay had been easy for him, and he used to be one of the highest-skilled two-handed swordsmen in the game. Then he lost his left hand, and since then he’d been maxing his one-handed stance. The going was slow, but luckily one of his abilities was a high-level War Cry, and that meant he still had value as an officer.

He turned away from the thief and looked at his men. They were a bunch of midlevel scum bags who’d loot the corpse of a close friend before it even hit the ground. He listened to a group near him. One was a barbarian who wore nothing but a set of leather straps that crossed his manhood. The other was a necromancer who had torn off the hood of his robe to reveal a thatching of stiff, dirty hair.

“I’m hoping I’ll have time after the battle to have a little fun with one of the NPCs,” said the barbarian. “I like to choose the married ones.”

“You don’t have a high enough charisma skill for that.”

“You don’t need charisma when you’ve got a sword.”

Durthan turned his horse and rounded on the men. The barbarian saw his commander and then looked up, startled.

“No looting and no forcing your way with the NPCs,” said Durthan, hardly believing he had to give the order. He spoke again, this time activating War Cry so that all the army heard him. “And while we’re at it, I don’t want any non-combatants to be killed. Joining the Serpents doesn’t mean you can do what you like. We might have a sour reputation, but we also have a code.”

Next to him, Dyzmal laughed. “A good speech, but you’ll never stop them, you know. People are people.”

“After the battle, I’ll hang one of them,” said Durthan. “That’ll stop the nasty business.”

Dyzmal held the reigns of his horse in one hand and with the other he took his short dagger from the sheath on his hip. The blade was small but it was jagged, and it looked sharp enough to cut through flesh with barely any effort. A constant drip of black poison oozed over the silver steel.

“You’ll have more to worry about after this than a few NPC murders,” he said.

Durthan nodded. He knew what the thief meant, and it worried him. “There’s no going back once we break the treaty. The other guilds will want blood.”

“We’ll have the dagger soon,” said Dyzmal. “It’s out there somewhere. And with that, we’ll bring back Necrolor. Once the Fire Lord is back, nothing will stop us.”

Durthan noticed movement in the corner of his eye. He saw a soldier breaking rank and marching across the field toward him. He was taller than most of the Serpent warriors around him. Where a lot of the army had beefed up their defence points with heavy armour, this man wore a simple leather vest. A long sword hung off a strap on his back, and a blue gem was in the hilt.

Connor Rutland – Warrior – Level 39

“Need a bathroom break?” said Dyzmal, looking at the warrior who now stood in front of them. “Get back in rank, soldier.”

Durthan nodded at Connor. “Do you need something?” he said. Normally he might have barked an order at the man, but he decided to take a softer approach because he knew it would annoy Dyzmal.

“I could have just left,” said Connor. “But I thought I’d tell you first. I don’t want any part of this. The second we pass the wall of that town we’re breaking the treaty. I know you didn’t order it, Durthan, but Herelius is leading us into another Great War, and I won’t be part of the first charge.”

He couldn’t believe the guts of the soldier. To desert the army was one thing. Some people thought it showed cowardice to go AWOL, but to Durthan, it displayed courage. Everyone knew that the second you left your post without authorisation, you became hunted. You lost your Serpent marker, and if any of your old guild mates saw you, they would get a quest telling them to kill you.

The problem here was that he agreed with Connor. He couldn’t say it, not with all the other soldiers around, but the warrior was right. Herelius’ plan was leading them into an era of renewed violence.

“I have noted your feelings, Rutland. This is your last chance to fall in line. You know what comes next.”

He shook his head. “I won’t fight.”

“Do you know what happens to those who disobey orders, Rutland?”

The warrior nodded.

“I understand your reasons, but I can’t change guild rules, nor can any of us question our leader’s orders. I will give you a head start. Leave now, Rutland. In 1 hour, our men and our dogs will come for you.”

Connor turned and left. His sword bounced on his back as he walked away. Some of the other soldiers wouldn’t move for him, so he pushed through until he left the unit and walked into the distance. Durthan watched him as his Serpent icon slowly faded away, leaving him a guildless fugitive.

He saw some of the men murmur to each other, so he decided it was time to attack. Concentrating his mana, he looked at his soldiers and activated War Cry. He bellowed the order to advance on Calmarnock.

Chapter Two

Janus

The marshes surrounding Dry Gulch seemed deeper and boggier than any others that I’d seen. The mud was thicker than treacle, and in parts, it looked like it could wrap around my legs and drag me into the ground. Extra agility points would have been useful here, but I knew I’d be okay if I was careful.

“Why did you want to come to Dry Gulch?” I said, looking at Brian who sat on the ground with bomb casings and gunpowder in front of him. Even sitting down, the giant was still taller than me.

“It’s off the beaten track, and it’s not affiliated with any guilds. That means that people rarely come here.”

“So the plan is to stay here and grind up a few levels? I’d like to be prepared the next time a PKer fancies stabbing me.”

“You’ve been working hard, Janus. Smoglar and I like your attitude. We were sceptical about you at first, you know.”

“Yeah, I got that impression.”

“But you know what? I’m glad to have you with us.”

We hadn’t come across many people lately because Brian had led us over rarely-trodden pathways. We met a group of Halons who were travelling to Iskarg, but they didn’t pay attention to us. Sooner or later, though, it wouldn’t just be Halons that we saw. Since we were all guildless, we were fair game to any members of the Halon, Merc, Serpent or Greye guilds that came our way.

Brian put his hand on his arm and winced.

“Something wrong?” I asked.

“I lost HP fighting the scuttlewasp a few hours ago. Must have left its sting in me, because my health is draining. I’ve used my last potion, too.”

I reached into my bag and checked my inventory. There wasn’t much in it, but I had one potion left. I took it out and passed it to my friend.

“That’s your last one,” he said.

“I know. Drink it before a scuttlewasp takes a fancy to my arse and I need it for myself.”

The giant smiled and took it from me. He unscrewed the cork and tipped the liquid into his mouth. His health bar slowly increased as the potion took effect.

“Thanks, Janus.”

“Don’t worry about it. Just remember me when they ask for your vote in the Tinker of the Year awards. Now let’s get going. We’ve got a lot of levelling up to do if we’re going to catch Herelius up.”

The giant sighed and got to his feet. “You’re more obsessed than Smoglar,” he said.

“I just need to get Herelius. I want to see his face when he knows that I’ve beaten him. The thing is, he won’t recognise me. So I’ll tell him who I used to be, and that he killed a newbie for no reason.”

“You’re fuelled by hate, Janus. Hate won’t lead you anywhere but down a dark path.”

I knew that I still had a while to go before I could consider myself prepared, but I would get there. After leaving Blundow I had used my unspent attribute points, giving weight to the stats that favoured my class. Tinkers weren’t warriors, so that meant most of my points were best spent on intelligence and charisma. For good measure, I had also beefed up my endurance so that it didn’t take just a single sword blow to cripple me.

I brought up my character screen.

Name: Janus

Race: Human

Class: Tinker

Level: 8 (114 Exp until next level)

Ability #1: Snake Tongue – Level 1 (25% toward next level)

Ability #2: Appraiser of Men – Level 1 (25% toward next level)

Ability #3:

Perks:

Bomb Maker – Level 1

Unallocated points: 0

Strength: 2

Agility: 3

Intelligence: 9

Endurance: 3

Charisma: 8

Hit points: 125 / 125

Mana: 250 / 250

Stamina: 129 / 129

Skills:

Explosives: Level 1 (0% toward next level)

Knife Play: Level 1 (20% toward next level)

Blade Sharpen: Level 1 (25% toward next level)

Forager: Level 1 (15% toward next level)

Ongoing Stats:

Chaos: 1

Guardian: 2

Viewers: 1

When I first started out as a Tinker I didn’t know much about the class, but I was coming round to it now. There weren’t many stories of Tinkers who became warriors, but there were lots about ones who made bombs and siege towers. The strength of my class would never be physical, but given enough levelling up and skill improvement, I could become as deadly as a barbarian with a great sword.

“Hey, Janus? You’re not ignoring me, are you?”

I broke from the character screen to see Brian staring at me. He held a glass vial in his hands. Thick orange liquid with the consistency of blood swished against the sides.

“Catch,” he said, tossing it toward me.

I caught the vial and held it in my hands. It was a stamina potion, but I didn’t need it yet. I put it in my bag.

“Thanks,” I said. “How do you think Smoglar is getting on?”

“Last time I saw him he was smashing his anvil with a hammer. There wasn’t any metal underneath it, though. I think he was doing it out of frustration.”

We’d left the dwarf back in Dry Gulch, where he’d decided to try and level up his blacksmithing skills. The dwarf hated having to buy from traders, so he wanted to make his own gear. He said that once his skills were high enough, he was going to craft us the finest-looking armour we’d ever seen. He’d talked about it with such enthusiasm that I couldn’t help smiling.

As I looked at the marshland around me, a message flagged on my screen.

Global Message: The Serpents have taken Calmarnock. This town and the territory surrounding it are now owned by the Serpent guild.

That meant that the Serpents had broken the guild pact forged years ago, after the Great War. When the Halon, Merc and Greye guilds had defeated the Serpents, they had allowed them to keep their guild intact. The condition was that they surrendered all territory except their homeland, Dreadmount. A further stipulation was that they were not allowed to take territory without consent. With the treaty broken I had no idea what was going to come, but it looked like the days of peace were over.

“Did you just get the message?” said Brian.

I nodded.

“And do you know what that means?”

“It means I won’t be holidaying in Calmarnock anytime soon,” I said.

We hardly had time to continue the discussion when another message displayed.

Global Message: The Serpents have found a death shard of Necrolor (1 of 6)

The breaking of the treaty was bad enough, but this was much worse. Necrolor was the leader of the Serpents, and for years he had been the highest level player on the game. As well as immense power, he also boasted the highest tally of Chaos points, meaning he had done more evil in the world than anyone else. Necrolor was killed in the Great War but Herelius, the new leader of the Serpents, sought to bring him back by collecting the shards of his soul that were hidden across the land.

“This isn’t good,” said Brian, with his typical blend of understatement.

I had goals that extended far beyond the marshland around us, but it would be a while before I reached them. First, I needed to toughen up and improve my skills.

“On with the lesson, wise teacher,” I said.

Brian had a cloth spread out in front of him. On it were cheap casings that were to be used for making bombs. It didn’t matter what size or shape they were, as long as they were made of metal. Next to the casings was a pile of gunpowder. Again, this was so cheap that even the meanest trader didn’t try to gouge you for it. Brian and I had stocked up in Dry Gulch before leaving for the marsh.

Brian seemed to delight in playing the role of teacher, so I thought it was only fair that I put all my effort into learning from him. There was a lot more to being a tinker than I’d first thought.

“Come over here,” said Brian.

I crossed the marsh until I stood near him, careful to avoid areas that looked too watery. A thin mist settled over the surface of the ground, and there was a bitter smell of mud in the air. I sat down in front of the cloth.

Brian looked at me. His beard was thicker than my hair, and his eyes were larger than my face.

“Make me a bomb,” he said. “One that doesn’t almost blow your own hand off, this time.”

Since getting the Bomb Maker perk, Brian had been drilling me in the art of explosives. And it was an art, he told me. When you made a bomb you weren’t just throwing materials together and setting them alight. There was a balance to it.

I looked at the materials in front of me. I had no doubt that outside the game, bomb making was a lot more complicated. Here, you just needed three things: a casing, gunpowder, and a fuse. We’d also bought a fire-flint each so that we could actually light them.

I closed my eyes. In my head I began to tip gunpowder into the casing, letting the black powder pour down slowly so that I didn’t overfill it. With that done I sealed the casing and then inserted a fuse. I opened my eyes and then looked down at the cloth. Voila, a bomb.

“We need to get your production time quicker, but that will come with better skill. I think you got the gunpowder balance a little wrong as well. But not bad, Janus. And it’s going to come in handy, too. Look.”

Brian pointed behind me. I turned and saw that twenty yards away there stood three Boar Minions. Their rough fur was as brown as the mud around them, and their long snouts hid teeth that I knew from experience could cause a lot of pain.

“There are too many, though,” said Brian. “We should probably sit this one out.”

I had come to realise that ‘cautious’ was too understated a term for the giant. I was surprised that he hadn’t somehow managed to find armour made of cotton wool. It wasn’t that he was scared; he just hated taking risks.

Looking at the boars, they did seem mean. The bad thing for them was that Brian and I were meaner.

“No, come on. We can take them.”

“Fine. Then you’re up to bat, slugger,” said Brian.

I equipped my dagger, but I knew that if I actually had to use it then something had gone wrong. As I slowly became at one with my class, I realised that a Tinker shouldn’t fight hand-to-hand where possible. My strength was going to come from the sides, where I’d launch bombs at delightfully flammable wildlife.

One boar sniffed the air and then snapped his head in my direction so that he stared at me. The others noticed, and soon all three boars scraped their feet on the ground and prepared for a charge.

I had other bombs in my bag, but I thought I’d try the new one first. I lit the fuse and smiled as I breathed in the smell of it burning. As the fire fizzed down I lifted the bomb in the air, took aim and threw it. I made sure that the arc of my throw would end a few feet in front of the boar, rather than where they were now.

Sure enough, the wild animals ran straight into the bomb. The fuse ended and there was an explosion. Mud flew up into the air and fell over us in a shower, and I tasted speckles of it as they landed on my lips. The boar screamed out.

25 Exp Gained!

(79 until level 9)

25 Exp Gained!

(54 until level 9)

Two of the boars were dead, but I hadn’t collected the experience from the third yet. I looked up and saw that it clung to a millimetre of its HP. Despite its injuries, it still dragged itself toward me, anxious for a taste of my flesh. I knew that given the chance it would kill me, but I couldn’t help but think that it was suffering.

I gripped my dagger. This boar was so injured that it wouldn’t be a threat, and I would take any chance to improve my knife skills that I could. You never knew when you would need them.

As I walked over to the boar, Brian strode across in front of me. His legs were much longer than mine, and he reached the boar first. Holding a hatchet, he swung a death blow at the boar and killed it.

“Sorry,” he said, looting the corpse. “I only needed one more kill to level up.”

I knew that levelling up sent a surge of pleasure through you. It was like a warm elixir washing through your body and smoothing it over with happiness. For some, it was the reason they came back to Re:Fuze again and again, even to the point that they left their families. It was so exhilarating that it could cause addiction.

Despite the pleasure of levelling up, there was something different about Brian. There was sadness in his eyes, buried in their depths as though he tried hard to hold it in. I’d seen the expression before, but he was always quick to get rid of it.

Message from viewer: ‘He’s hiding something from you.’

Ah yes, my mystery viewer. Whoever it was had been following my feed since Blundow. I still wasn’t sure why, since it could hardly have been thrilling watching me grind my way up the levels by blowing up Boar Minions. I wanted to know who it was, but it was clear that for now, they were only interested in playing games.

Just before leaving Blundow, my mystery viewer had sent me an item. I didn’t know what it was yet, and I would have to identify the item somehow.

Their latest message to me was just as cryptic as the others. ‘He’s hiding something from you.’ I assumed that he meant Brian, since it was clear that the giant had secrets in his past. Deep down I felt that I could trust him, so until he decided to open up, I would let the matter rest.

Bomb Maker perk increased by 25% (75% to next level)

A warm radiance spread through me. Not as much as if I had levelled up, but it was nice all the same. It had taken me a while to make even this measly progress. My first few attempts at bomb making had been so bad that Brian took pity on me and bought me some fire-resistant gloves. My own bombs couldn't hurt me or our party when I threw them, but they could damage me while they were still being made. Still, I was getting better, and I wouldn’t stop until my bombs were perfect.

“You’re getting to grips with it,” said Brian, moving back as the Boar corpses evaporated. “A Tinker can become more powerful than you realise. It isn't just about bombs, Janus. There’s so much more to it than that. If you’re going to remember anything I tell you, then remember this; you can only become as powerful as the limits you set yourself.”

A tremendous roar cut through the stillness of the marsh, so loud that the mud seemed to shake. Ahead of us was a Boar, but this one was different than the minions I had just dispatched. Its body was packed with muscle, and it stood as tall as my waist. It opened its mouth and roared, and I saw rows of yellow, razor-sharp teeth.

I looked at Brian. Even the giant seemed worried now. It was obvious that this creature was beyond our level.

“Back to Dry Gulch?” I said.

He nodded. “Think it’s time we called it a day.”

Before we could move, the boar advanced toward us with a speed I didn’t expect from an animal so dense with muscle. It seemed to sense which direction we needed to go, and it cut off our path.

We were going to have to fight it. I knew that boars could become enraged, and once that happened they would follow you across the map until one of you died.

I pulled a bomb out of my inventory. This was one of my early efforts. It was misshapen, and gunpowder fell out of the hole where the fuse ran. I lit it, waited a few seconds and then threw it at the beast. The bomb exploded and the animal reared back. When I looked at its health bar, I saw that it had only reduced by a fraction.

Brian threw a bomb of his own but as well-crafted as his bomb was, it still inflicted only a little more damage than mine.

“Think we’re going to need bigger bombs,” he said.

Combat wasn’t just about brawn. If you wanted to win fights it made little sense to throw one mindless attack after another and hope you did enough damage. A Tinker, especially, had to fight with intelligence.

I stared at the Boar. I concentrated on its body, taking in every inch of its muscled flesh. As my concentration grew stronger I found myself looking deeper, until I could see the inner workings of the animal. My Appraiser of Men skill activated, and information flooded my screen.

Dire Boar – Level 13

HP: 750 / 750

Strength: Bloodlust

Weakness: Projectiles

Appraiser of Men increased by 25% (50% to next level)

If the Dire Boar’s weakness was projectiles, then we needed an archer. For some reason, although they were thrown, bombs weren’t classed as projectiles. We had to use something else. I could have thrown my dagger at it, but it would have been as much good as tossing a handful of mud. I opened my inventory.

Cloth Shirt x1

Cloth Boots x1

Leather Armour x1

Sharpened Dagger x1

Mushrooms x15

** Rare Item [unidentified] x1

Fire Resistant Gloves x1

Bomb Casings x20

Bombs [standard] x3

Gunpowder x20

Fuse x20

Screws x15

Back in Dry Gulch, Smoglar had asked me to hold onto some screws for him whilst his inventory was full. The dwarf had planned on utilising them to create iron armour, but I realised that the screws would have a better use. The boar roared at us again, and I knew that I needed to work quickly.

I closed my eyes. I opened a bomb casing and poured gunpowder into it, but this time I held some back. I tipped 3 screws into the space that was left, and then I crossed my fingers as I closed the casing. It would all rest on this, and it had to work. I had a theory, but theories didn’t always go the way you planned.

As the casing closed, the bomb held firm. This was going to work! I inserted a fuse. I looked at Brian and saw that he was smiling at me.

“Keep going,” he said.

As the Dire Boar snorted and then charged at us, I lit the fuse. The flames sparkled down it, and just as it reached the casing, I threw the bomb into the path of the animal. It exploded, but it wasn’t just gunpowder this time. The screws flew out and dug deep into the boar’s hide. It reared back and then grunted in pain. I watched with a smile as its HP dropped below halfway.

The boar recovered from its injury and ran at me, battering my stomach with its head. I felt my breath get sucked out of me, and I doubled over in pain as my HP bar dropped.

“Come here little pig,” said Brian, moving away. “I smell bacon.”

As the giant drew the beast away from me I assembled another screw bomb. With the fuse lit and the bomb ready to throw, I shouted at Brian.

“Stand back,” I said.

“We’re in a party,” answered Brian, dodging the charge of the boar. “Your bombs won’t hurt me. Throw it.”

I took a deep breath, steadied my aim, and then launched it. The bomb exploded underneath the Dire Boar. The animal squealed in agony and then fell on the floor, its health bar empty.

Level Up to level 9!

Exp to next level: 128

Bomb Maker perk increased by 25% (50% to level 2)

There are few things more satisfying than seeing a plan work, and I could tell by Brian’s grin that he was happy with my progress. This was big, I knew. Making bombs was one thing, but if I could infuse them with other materials, then the possibilities were endless. I hesitated to admit it even to myself, but I was starting to like being a Tinker.

With the smell of burnt meat lingering in the air, I spent my 2 stats points, increasing my intelligence to 9 and my charisma to 8. With each improvement in intelligence, I knew my focus would get better. In turn, this would make my hands steadier when I assembled bombs.

Brian picked up the Dire Bore meat. He tossed the skin to me. When the animal corpse evaporated, he looked at me. His expression was grim.

“We better go. There might be more of them.”

“I’ve got plenty of screws,” I said.

“It was a good idea, Janus. It was a lesson I was hoping you’d learn. But the Dire Boar shouldn’t have been here. We’re not too far away from the newbie village, and the monsters here shouldn’t be so tough. Things are changing, I think. Let’s get back to Dry Gulch.”

As we walked back toward the town, I was glad to leave the marsh behind me. My feet were soaked from standing in the wet mud, and I felt a chill across my chest. Brian walked beside me but didn’t seem in the mood to talk.

Rather than try to tease conversation from him, I decided it was time to take stock of my goals. Since entering the game there were a few things I wanted to do, and it was time to get organised about it.

The first thing that came to mind was the most impossible of all my goals. This was a quest for revenge, but one that was way beyond me at this point. I needed to kill Herelius Rouge, the high-level leader of the Serpent guild. On my first playthrough, instead of spawning in the newbie village I had mistakenly spawned in the far reaches of the map. There, I had stumbled upon Herelius and his friends in a cave. The warrior, over a hundred levels above me, had murdered me on sight.

Quest Received – Kill Herelius Rouge.

Reward: Quests generated by the player do not carry rewards. Besides, revenge is its own reward.

This was good. If I could make my own quests then it would be easier to keep track of them, which was handy since I was adding new goals to my playthrough every day. This quest was a lofty one, though, and it would be a long time before I was strong enough to complete it.

My other goals were slightly more attainable, but still tough. First, I needed to earn enough CR to pay off my parents’ mortgage. They had saved up their hard-earned CR to buy me a login to the game, and I needed to repay them.

Next, I had to find my brother. Thomas had entered the game a few years ago, and neither my parents nor I had heard from him since. In truth, I didn’t know if he was even still playing. The thing was, if he had died in-game, then I was sure he’d have come back home.

Next, I needed to learn my 3rd ability. I already had Snake Tongue and Appraiser of Men, which left me with 1 remaining ability slot, and I had to fill it with something good. Moving on from that, I also had to master the Tinker class. It wasn’t the most combat driven class, but it had potential. If I was to kill Herelius, I had to learn how to master what I had been given.

This left just one more goal – to get revenge on Reebus. She was a mage who I had met in Blundow, and she had tricked and betrayed me more times than I liked to admit. The truth was that I had been stupid back in the newbie village, but the important thing was that I had learned from it.

With my quests decided, I watched as they were entered into my log.

Quest Added: Earn Enough CR to Pay Off Your Parents’ Mortgage

Quest Added: Find Your Brother

Quest Added: Learn Your 3rd Ability

Quest Added: Master the Tinker Class

Quest Added: Get Revenge on Reebus

A long road lay ahead of me, but I was filled with energy. I knew that I would only get one chance in the game, and I would make sure that I made the most of it.

Brian and I walked on in silence, leaving the mist of the marshes behind us. Gradually the town of Dry Gulch loomed into view, and I saw smoke drift from the chimney of the tavern. A man led a horse by the reigns and walked away from the town gates, before joining a path that led to the world map.

As we got nearer, I saw that a crowd of people had gathered in the centre of the town. We walked closer still, and I noticed that some of the people were pointing. They looked angry, and it seemed like they were shouting at someone, though I couldn’t see who.

“For God’s sake Smoglar,” said Brian, picking up his pace.

The giant took long strides across the field until he reached the town gates. By the time I joined him, I saw what had annoyed him.

NPCs stood in a circle in the centre of the town. They held weapons in their hands, and their faces were red with anger. In the centre of them was Smoglar. He clutched his axe and looked ready to fight.

Chapter Three

Dry Gulch was once a fertile farm town called Strathgarth. During the Nine Month Summer, the town suffered a drought. Try as they might the farmers could not save their crops, and most were forced to leave. Some stubborn families stayed on, but within a year all were dead.

With the Nine Month Summer gone, a man named Gerug Gulch stumbled upon the deserted town and decided to take it as a settlement of his own. Despite his efforts, he was not able to get anything to grow in the dry fields, and thus he named the town after himself.

Through smart trading and making deals with other towns, Gulch was able to buy enough food for the settlement to survive. Some say the town will flourish in the long-foretold Ten Year Spring, but others believe that it will merely wither and die.

Dismissing the message, I looked ahead of me and saw Smoglar stood in the centre of the town with a furious mob surrounding him. I hadn’t talked with many of the NPCs here yet, but I recognised the owner of the tavern.

Smoglar’s anvil was next to him, but his materials and tools were scattered on the floor. The dwarf held his axe tightly in his hand and looked around, giving a stern glare at any NPC who dared meet his gaze. I had seen this look on Smoglar’s face before, and it was one I recognised all too well; he was ready for a fight.

Brian broke through the lines of the mob until he stood next to Smoglar. He stared at the tavern owner.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

A man stepped forward. He had two bags slung around his neck, and a coin purse on his belt.

“He came to me to buy copper, then said I was overcharging him. He tried to barter me down, but when I refused, he pulled his axe. Next thing I know the dwarf’s threatening to fight us all.”

“We don’t need this in Dry Gulch,” shouted the tavern owner. “We’re a peaceful town, but we won’t let you walk all over us.”

A few NPCs nodded in ascent. I could tell from their faces that they were ready to fight for each other if it came to that. I knew that I was also prepared to battle. After everything Brian and Smoglar had done for me, I’d fight until the end for them.

I focussed on the men and women surrounding us. Two of them stood out as the strongest.

Renor Yates – Tavern Owner, Level 5

HP: 105 / 105

Tristan Greene – Merchant, Level 4

HP: 123 / 123

Appraiser of Men increased by 25% (25% to Level 2)

As I scanned the crowd I saw that most of them were at a similar level. One on one, even I could take them in a melee fight. The problem was that there were at least twenty of them, and that loaded the odds in their favour.

Smoglar looked around him and huffed. I could tell by his stance that he was getting ready to strike. My friend carried a lot of anger in him, and I knew that I had to save him from himself. I took a step forward until I faced the townsfolk.

I focussed on the Renor, the tavern owner. He was a lanky man with brown hair that reached to his shoulders. He wore a blue chequered shirt stained with beer, and his biceps were thick from years of carrying barrels.

“Let’s all forget about this,” I said. “It’s a misunderstanding, nothing more. I’m sure you don’t want the streets of your town to be stained with blood.”

“We’ve come through a lot of hard times here,” said Renor. “And we won’t let some angry dwarf cause damage.”

“He’s just drunk,” I said. Where had that come from?

“I didn’t see him drink.”

It must have been my Snake Tongue skill prompting me. Carrying on the lie, I answered him.

“He’s got a private stash. He needs to have a drink every day to forget how ugly he is.”

I looked at Smoglar and gave him a grin, but the dwarf didn’t share my good humour.

Renor looked at the merchant next to him. He seemed unsure.

“Let’s put down our weapons and walk away,” I said. “Let Smoglar sleep it off, and the next time you see him he’ll give you a hug and a kiss.”

Renor paused and thought about it. He lowered his wooden club and then huffed. “Fine, but he’s barred from my tavern.”

As the crowd dispersed and left us alone in the centre, I felt Smoglar glaring at me. It didn’t matter. I was prepared to fight for him if I had to, but this way I had saved us all a beating. None of us were scared of the NPCs, but there’s nothing clever about starting a pointless fight.

Snake Tongue increased by 25% (50% to level 2)

Knowing that the crisis was averted until the next time Smoglar got annoyed, I decided I needed to make good use of my time in Dry Gulch. It was a small town with a tavern, a potion shop, and an indoor market where passing traders set up stalls for a day or two. On the boundaries of the town were houses with stone walls and thatched roofs.

I had no interest in houses or markets. Instead, I walked to the potion shop and then entered an alleyway next to it. I followed the cramped passage until I came to a building that I had seen the morning before. It was tucked out of view, almost as if its owner wanted it to be kept a secret. A sign outside it read ‘Dry Gulch Library.’

In the passage, slumped against a wall, was a man. Judging by his clothes he seemed to be a beggar. He stared at me as I approached.

“Spare some CR?” he said.

I reached into my inventory and handed a coin. Leaving him behind, I walked into the library, chose a few books and then settled down at a desk. The smell of old paper was in the air, and some of the books looked so worn that they could fall apart in my hands. Across the room and beyond the rows of shelves the librarian sat behind a desk, though he didn’t pay any attention to me.

The book selection was as limited as could be expected in such a small library, but they had some material I was interested in. I was painfully aware of how stupid I had been in entering the game world so unprepared. I knew that I should have studied game manuals, but the first time I had entered Re:Fuze we didn’t have enough CR to buy net credits. My second entry into the game had been unexpected, so I hadn’t had time to revise.

I thought back to how I had acted in Blundow. We had all been newbies there, but I had been one of the greenest of them all. Some of the things I had done were idiotic, and I resolved that I wouldn’t make so many blunders ever again. I was going to read up as much as I could about the game world, and especially about being a Tinker.

The book in front of me was titled ‘Tinkering Around.’ It began with a history of the Tinker class and an explanation of bomb creation. I skipped ahead until I found a passage that interested me. This one was called ‘Tinkering with the Elements.’ I leaned forward in my chair and read it.

When Haggar’s undead army rose in Black Chapel, the once great archer city was soon overrun by murderous corpses. The Grand Archer, QuickThorne, drafted in everybody he could think of to help combat the undead. He called upon famous warriors and powerful mages, but nothing worked.

And then Lastor Bombraid arrived. He was dressed in simple clothes and had nothing with him but a brown sack. Humbly, he told QuickThorne that he could solve the city’s problem. QuickThorne was sceptical, but he didn’t have much choice.

Lastor created a bomb big enough to destroy the city. Then, instead of filling it with gunpowder, he packed merely a quarter of it with explosives. He then reached into his sack and pulled out a crumpled scroll and read from it. QuickThorne, versed in the magic of the light, knew that Lastor was reading from a Bless scroll.

Lastor completed his bomb and then detonated it in the middle of the city. There were only enough explosives to cause a small amount of damage. The bless spell intertwined with the powder and killed most of the undead, driving them back to their graves.

Infusing my bombs with screws had worked against the Dire Boar, and it had given me an idea of other bombs that I could make. This book confirmed it, and I realised that you could combine almost anything with a bomb if you had enough expertise. It didn’t just mean destructive things, either. If I mixed a healing potion with gunpowder and exploded it near my party, I was pretty sure it would heal everyone.

I sat back and smiled. No class was truly weak, I realised. All weakness came from the person playing it.

Bomb Making Perk increased by 25% (25% to level 2)

As good as the feeling of improvement was, I didn’t enjoy it for long. Something in the passage caught my eye, and I read it again.

And then Lastor Bombraid arrived. He was dressed in simple clothes and had nothing with him but a brown sack. He told QuickThorne that he could solve the city’s problem. QuickThorne was sceptical, but he didn’t have much choice.

So who was Lastor Bombraid? I turned back to the beginning of the book and found a chapter on Tinker lore. As I read through it, I discovered that Lastor Bombraid was an Epic Tinker, and had reached the highest level possible in the class. He had travelled the world in a zeppelin of his own making, solving problems with his unique skills. Then, without warning, he had disappeared. Lastor had been gone for over 20 years, and nobody had heard from him since.

Quest Received: Find Lastor Bombraid

The Epic Tinker has been missing for decades, and nobody knows if he even still lives. The world is worse off for his absence, and great rewards await the one who finds him.

Class Restriction: Only Tinkers may accept this quest

Reward: Unidentified item [Rare]

I added this to my already-saturated list of quests. This one was different from the rest, though. Since I hadn’t made the quest myself I would get a reward, and the unidentified item on offer was bound to be something useful to my class. There was also the fact that if I found Lastor, I was sure he could teach me things about being a Tinker that nobody else knew.

I closed the book and sat back. The librarian whistled across the room. This had been a useful trip, I decided. A long journey lay ahead of me, but I was sure that I could face it.

The library door opened behind me, and I heard footsteps thump on the ground. I turned and saw Brian walking toward me, hunching his back so that he could fit in the tiny room. The librarian glanced at the giant, and a look of panic crossed his face.

“No giants,” he said, and then glanced at his bookshelves as if he expected Brian’s footsteps to send them toppling over.

Brian ignored him and spoke to me instead. “We’ve got to go,” he said. He seemed a little on-edge.

“Why?”

“You’ll see.”

I got up off the chair and followed Brian. Before I left, I reached into my inventory and took out CR5. I only had CR50 on me and I needed to send some to my parents, but the knowledge I had learned today was invaluable, and it deserved a reward. I put the CR on the librarian’s desk.

Guardian Point gained! (Total: 3)

The librarian snatched the CR, put it in his pocket, and then looked back at the book in front of him. That’s gratitude for you.

When I exited the library and followed Brian out of the alleyway, I stopped. I looked ahead of me and shook my head. I couldn’t believe what I saw.

Smoglar was stood in the centre of the town with his axe drawn. He swayed from side to side, and this time I saw that he really was drunk. Perhaps my story had given him an idea.

A crowd of NPCs stood around him but there were more of them this time, as though the entire population of the town had come to join the mob. All of them held weapons and stared in the direction of Smoglar. They weren’t looking at the dwarf, but instead focussed on the body of Tristan the merchant, who lay dead at Smoglar’s feet.

I knew I wasn’t going to be able to talk our way out of this one. Brian must have had the same thought, because he pulled a bomb out from his inventory and held it in his hand, ready to light.

As we got closer, I saw Renor the tavern owner point a finger at Smoglar.

“Murderer,” he shouted.

Smoglar shook his head. “He attacked me. Surely one of you fools must have seen it?”

The slurring of his voice robbed him of any authenticity, and I knew that the time for words was ending. This was confirmed when Renor stepped forward and swung his club at Smoglar’s face. The dwarf was too drunk to dodge it, and he took the brunt of the blow on his cheek.

Without missing a beat he swung his axe at Renor’s head, missed, and grazed his shoulder instead. The other townsfolk saw this as their cue to attack, and soon they advanced on my friend.

I knew that they wouldn’t stop until he was dead. Killing NPCs was frowned upon in Re:Fuze, but if the choice was that or death, then it was an easy one to make. I had to help him.

Someone hit Smoglar with a pike, and the dwarf’s HP bar fell to just above halfway. He couldn’t take them all alone, and I knew that he was too foolhardy to move out of range and fight sensibly. I had to end this now.

I opened a bomb casing. After filling it halfway with gunpowder, I tipped in eight screws. I closed the casing, and then I grunted with frustration as it fell apart in my hands.

Smoglar took another hit, and his health dropped below halfway. Brian threw a bomb into the fray, and the explosion damaged five of the mob. The smell of burnt gunpowder drifted to my nostrils. Some of the crowd covered their ears after the blast had damaged their hearing.

I must have put too many screws in the casing, I realised. Bomb making was all about balance. I opened a new casing, and this time loaded more gunpowder and fewer screws. As I was about to throw it, Smoglar took another hit. And then another. He stumbled back and grunted in pain.

Putting the screw bomb to one side, I hastily loaded a new casing with gunpowder and the healing potion from my inventory.

“Smoglar,” I shouted. The dwarf turned to look at me, taking another hit as he did. “Run toward me.”

“I’m not a coward,” he said, his voice strained with pain. “I’m going nowhere.”

Brian shook his head. He walked across the square, grabbed his friend by the arm and dragged him away from the mob. I lit the healing bomb and threw it at Smoglar. As it exploded, I saw his health bar rise.

The townsfolk looked at us. Some had symbols above their head showing red faces with exclamation marks. This meant that they had become enraged, and any damage they dealt would be doubled. They charged at Smoglar and Brian, holding their knives and clubs and pikes high in the air.

I picked up the screw bomb. I lit the fuse, took a breath and then threw it. I watched as it spiralled through the air and landed on the ground in front of the NPCs. It exploded just as Renor stepped over it. The air was filled with screams of pain, and I felt sick as I watched chunks of flesh lift up high and then fall to the ground in a shower of body parts.

NPC killed – No EXP Gained

NPC killed – No EXP Gained

NPC killed – No EXP Gained

The message repeated thirty times until I was sick of seeing it. I knew that no exp was given for killing NPCs. The reason for this was that they wanted to discourage murder of characters that held vital roles. I didn’t care. Thoughts of levelling up were far away, and instead, I focussed on the new messages repeating on my screen.

Chaos Point gained! (Total: 2)

Chaos Point gained! (Total: 3)

Chaos Point gained! (Total: 4)

The message filled my screen until I had 31 points, leaving me 69 away from getting the reputation of ‘Nasty Git.’ I swiped them away. I didn’t want to level up in chaos points, nor did I want a reputation as a bad person.

There was nothing I could have done. I wouldn’t let my friend die, and if gaining chaos points was the penalty for saving Smoglar, then I’d just have to accept it.

“Are you guys okay?” I said.

Smoglar leaned over and vomited a spray of ale on the blood-stained streets. Brian looked at the carnage around him, and then turned away from it. It was time to leave Dry Gulch, I knew. There was nothing for us here, now.

Bounty gained: CR300. (New Level: Fugitive)

You have done wrong, and you have a bounty on your head. Any player may claim it by killing you.

Bloody hell.

Chapter Four

We had left Dry Gulch before we had planned to, but we would have to adapt. I had wanted to reach level ten before setting out, but I was quickly learning that the best-laid plans of Tinkers, Giants and Dwarves often go awry. It was going to take us years to match the sheer power of Herelius, but I knew that if we could find Lastor Bombraid, then I would have an advantage.

We walked across a desolate field. Field Imps attacked us every so often, but their numbers were few and their levels were low. Smoglar seemed to enjoy venting his frustration on the aggressive creatures. Every so often we’d pass a nobbled tree or a hilly mound, but other than that there was little to mark the landscape.

Brian had taken to humming a tune out loud as we walked, though I didn’t recognise it. I had enjoyed it at first, but when he began his tenth cycle of the song I decided I needed conversation.

“So, why do you guys want to find Herelius?” I said. “I’ve told you my story. What about yours?”

The giant and the dwarf looked at each other for a few seconds and then shook their heads. It seemed that whatever had happened to them, they still didn’t trust me enough to share it. Fine by me.

“What now?” I said.

“There’s a town ten miles east, but I still think we’re better avoiding it,” said Brian.

Smoglar stopped. It looked like an imp was running toward them from the distance, but when it got closer they realised it was a hare. Not even Smoglar was angry enough to attack the harmless animal.

“I need a drink,” he said.

“We need a plan more than we need the ale,” I answered. “We’ve still got some levelling up to do. We need to toughen up more.”

“Spoken like a true warrior,” said Smoglar. “But I’ve been thinking. Brian and I stashed some weapons before we…”

“Before you what?”

“Nothing.”

Message from viewer: ‘They’re lying to you.’

The viewer’s cryptic messages were starting to irritate me. If they wanted to help me, then fine, but at least just come out and say it. The fact was that I knew that Brian and Smoglar were holding something back, but I trusted them all the same. If they wanted to harm me they could have done it long ago. All they’d ever done was help me.

“When could you have stashed weapons?” I said.

I thought about it. They’d started in Blundow at the same time I had, which left them little time to collect weapons and then stash them somewhere. Then it dawned on me. I looked at my two friends and spoke.

“You had different characters before these ones, didn’t you?”

Smoglar shrugged his shoulders as if he knew the game was up. Brian nodded at me.

“So what happened?” I said.

“We like you, Janus,” said Brian. “But you have to understand, not everyone in this world is trustworthy, and it takes a while for people’s true colours to come out. So we don’t want to share that with you yet. And don’t try to use Snake Tongue on us to get the information, either.”

“While we’re at it,” said Smoglar, “We better make a pact right here and now. None of us can use our abilities on each other without agreeing beforehand, okay? If we’re travelling together, there needs to be some trust.”

“You’re a fine one to talk about trust,” I said.

“I partied up with you, didn’t I?” said the dwarf. “And I’m sharing my loot with you. What more do you want?”

I heard a squawking noise above me, and I looked up to see a murder of crows flying across the sky. Ahead, in the distance, was a gang of imps. I pulled out a bomb and threw it. The bomb exploded yards away, but it was still powerful enough to kill them.

15 Exp Gained! (113 until level 10)

“Nice shot,” said Smoglar.

“I think you’re right,” said Brian, looking at the dwarf. “We need to find the stash. Some of the weapons we put aside are much better than most people our level can buy, and that should give us an advantage.”

“Where is it?” I said.

“Right in the middle of Gospag Forest,” said Smoglar, shaking his head.

“I’m sensing that’s not a good thing.”

“Depends how you feel about a dying forest full of level 13 Blood Steers. I’m not overly excited about the prospect. When I stashed the weapons there, I never thought I’d been going back as a green-gilled newbie.”

“If it gives us an advantage, then I say we go for it,” I said.

Smoglar grinned. “You know what, Janus? I’m beginning to…not like you, but accept you. You’re okay.”

“Steady on with the praise.”

Gospag Forest was fifteen miles west of the direction we were heading, so we changed course. After a while our stamina was drained, so we decided to rest near a hollow-trunked elm tree. Smoglar leaned back against the tree and rested his axe on his lap. He rubbed it from time to time as if it was his pet.

“We’ll need a plan,” I said. “If the Blood Steers are level 13, then that gives them the upper hand straight away. There’s no sense just charging in.”

Brian nodded. “Do you know anything about Blood Steers?”

“Never heard of them,” I said.

Smoglar put his hands behind his head and relaxed.

“They wouldn’t be so tough if it wasn’t for those bloody great antlers on their head. They’re made of bone and they’re as sharp as knives. The buggers are aggressive, too. If you hit them they get enraged, and then they charge at you.”

“So I’ll need to level up my endurance, then,” I said. “Otherwise one blow and I’ll be gone.”

Smoglar nodded. “You could. And that would be fine if we had about twenty years to wait while you bulked up. You just don’t have the body to take damage, tinker.”

“Think, Janus,” said Brian.

I put my hands to my chin and thought about it. They were right; I could level up all I wanted, but I’d need to quadruple my HP before I had enough. Even then, I’d still have to get some high-level armour to take the bulk of the damage.

“How about this?” I said. “Smoglar, you’re stocky. You stand there and get them riled up. They attack you, and you absorb it. Brian and I stand on the sidelines with screw bombs and healing bombs. We’ll keep your health topped up, and we’ll pepper the Steers with bombs from range.”

Smoglar stood up, moving with an agility I hadn’t expected of him. “And that’s what I call a plan. Let’s go.”

***

When Smoglar had described Gospag as a dying forest, he wasn’t lying. It was full of trees with withered branches and rotting trunks, packed so tightly that barely any light shone through. Bracken littered a forest floor that would have looked undisturbed had it not been for the hoof prints planted in the mud. Nothing in the forest made a noise except our footsteps.

Soon, the Blood Steers crept out from the trees. They took tentative steps at first but then, as if they had decided that we weren’t to be feared, they attacked. Twigs cracked beneath their hooves as they trampled over the floor toward us.

Smoglar stood in the centre waving his axe in the air and yelling, drawing the attention of any Steers that came to attack. While he took the force of their blows, Brian and I blasted them with screw bombs. We broke our attacks only to throw the odd healing bomb at Smoglar.

The plan worked as we had wanted it to at first, which was a welcome surprise. I had been expecting something to go wrong. Maybe the Steers would have explosion resistance, or their antlers would drip with a poison that made fast work of dwarf flesh. As we walked through the forest yard by yard and dispatched the creatures, my experience points tallied up. One of my bombs blasted a hole in the side of a Blood Steer, and I felt a familiar pleasure rush through me.

Level up to Level 10! (142 until level 11)

Now wasn’t the time to allocate my points, so I followed Smoglar through the forest. With every step I looked around me as it became darker and the silence became more oppressive. We walked by a particularly thick oak tree that had vines wrapped so tightly around its trunk that it seemed like they were trying to smother it. Herbs littered the forest floor and gave off the smell of onion and mint.

We eventually reached the centre, and there we found three sticks that had been driven into the ground to make a sign. Smoglar walked over to them and stopped. He turned around and smiled.

“This, ladies and gentlemen, is the stash. No need to thank me yet, there will be plenty of time for that later.”

“You could have made it less conspicuous,” I said. “Those sticks in the ground might as well be an arrow with a sign saying ‘loot buried here.’”

“Nobody else comes here,” said Brian. “There are much easier places to level up, and no NPC quests take you into Gospag.”

Smoglar got down on his knees and dug in the dirt. After a minute he stopped. He grabbed hold of something, and his face turned red as he strained to pull it out of the ground. It was a brown chest with a brass handle. Smoglar had gotten it halfway out of the ground when we heard a roar.

“We need you centre stage, tank,” I said. “We’ve got more blood steers to handle.”

“That wasn’t a steer. Listen,” said Brian.

Something roared again, and then it was followed by the sound of booming footsteps on the forest floor. I turned and gasped as I saw a gigantic bear twenty feet away. It was so tall that it almost reached Brian’s height, and its body was thick with matted fur. It had claws that looked sharp enough to take my head off with one swipe. This wasn’t an ordinary grizzly, though. Its face was decayed, and yellow bones stuck out.

I focussed on it, and soon its stats displayed.

Undead Dire Grizzly – Level 19

HP: 750 / 750

Strength: ???

Weakness: ???

I knew I would need to concentrate harder to uncover its strengths and weaknesses, but I didn’t have time. The grizzly rushed at us, its black eyes full of hate and fixed solely on me. I backed away, pulling a bomb out of my bag as it approached.

Just as the grizzly reached me and swiped at my waist, Smoglar stepped in front of it. He absorbed the damage on his stocky body, and then fell back against me, grunting in pain. His health bar dropped below halfway. The bear’s attacks made the damage done by the Steers seem laughable, and it was clear that our plan wouldn’t work this time.

Smoglar glanced at the half-buried stash, but he must have realised he’d never be able to pull it out in time. Instead, he got to his feet. Brian threw a healing bomb at him, and his health bar increased.

The bear stretched out to full height, but it needn’t have bothered. I knew that bears did this to make themselves seem more threatening, but an undead grizzly was already menacing enough.

We needed a plan. Smoglar’s strength was in brute force, but it was clear he was outmatched here. That meant it would fall on Brian and me to deal with this.

I thought back to the library. Lastor Bombraid had faced an entire army of the undead with nothing but a bomb and a scroll of Bless. We didn’t have any Bless scrolls, but there had to be something we could do.

“Brian, pass me a healing potion,” I said.

As he looked through his bag to find one, the bear stepped forward. It roared in Smoglar’s direction and then slammed a meaty paw against his face. Agility was never one of the dwarf’s strengths, and when he stepped away a long red scratch covered his skin. Blood dripped from the new wound, and his health bar dropped once again.

I took the healing vial. I created a healing bomb, but this time I loaded it so that the balance was weighted heavily on the potion. When I was finished, I lit the fuse and looked up.

The bear towered over Smoglar. The dwarf got to his feet and struck it with his axe, but the blow barely registered. I gripped the bomb in my hands. This had to work. If Smoglar died, we were done for.

As the bear launched into a final attack on the dwarf, I threw the healing bomb. This time I hadn’t aimed at the dwarf but at the bear, and the bomb hit him full on and exploded in its face. Time seemed to slow as I waited for the effect to register.

I had banked on healing potion having the opposite effect on something that was already dead. It was a big gamble to take because for all I knew it could have healed the minimal damage we had already manage to inflict.

“What the hell are you doing?” said Smoglar.

The seconds seemed to stretch out into minutes. I held my breath and waited.

The bear stumbled back. It roared again, but this time the noise wasn’t one of aggression, but of pain. I allowed myself to breathe out in relief as the bear’s health bar fell more and more, and the animal crashed onto the floor and died.

50 Exp gained! (92 until level 11)

Items received:

Bear Claw x1

Bear Pelt x1

Smoglar looked at me. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and he seemed to study me for a long time. Finally, he opened his mouth wide and smiled.

“You crazy little git,” he said, laughing whilst blood poured down his face.

After fighting the Blood Steers and then the grizzly, none of us was in a good state. We were all in need of a good healing bomb, but Brian had given me his last potion. It didn’t matter, for now. We had the stash.

Brian heaved the chest out of the ground and opened it. I walked over and saw that it was filled with weapons made of glinting silver, and some had gems in them. Smoglar rooted through it and then laughed in delight as he pulled out an axe with a polished wooden handle and gleaming blade. He lifted it in the air in triumph, then brought it to his mouth and kissed it.

“I’ve missed you,” he said.

I looked through the chest, but all the weapons seemed to be beyond me. I simply didn’t have the strength to wield half of them and even if I could, a melee weapon was wasted on me.

“Don’t worry, Janus,” said Smoglar. “There’s something here for you.”

He reached into the chest and pulled something out. He was about to hand it to me when a fireball rushed through the forest. It scorched the trunks of the trees as it travelled, and Smoglar didn’t have time to dodge before it hit him in the chest. He fell to the ground, dropping the axe.

I reached into my inventory and was going to pull out a bomb, but I realised I had used them all on the Steers and the Grizzly. I didn’t have time to make another before I heard a voice. I recognised it immediately.

“You owe me something, Tinker. And I never forget debts owed to me.”

I didn’t even need to see their player tags to know that Dracol and Red Leroy were in the forest with us. I had met them on the outskirts of Blundow. The two men demanded CR20 off me, and back then I didn’t even have a single CR to my name. I had managed to bargain for my life by promising them CR60 when I left Blundow. To make sure I made good on my deal the Shaman, Red Leroy, had placed a marker on me which meant he could find me anywhere on the map.

Dracol sported a new sword with a vein of ice running through the blade. He looked like he had levelled up a few times. Red Leroy held a staff that had thorns twisted around it.

“You promised me CR, Tinker,” said Dracol.

I checked my inventory. I owed him CR60, but I only had CR45 with me. I looked at Brian and Smoglar.

“Can you guys give them CR15? I just want to get this over with.”

Smoglar shook his head. “Spent my last CR on ale back in Dry Gulch. And even if I had any, I wouldn’t give these two arses anything but a smack in the mouth.”

Brian checked his inventory, and then gave me a grave look. “My coins went on casings and gunpowder.”

I sighed. “Listen, Dracol. I’ve got CR45. Take that, and get lost. I don’t owe you anything. It’s not like you’ve done anything for me.”

“We let you live,” said Red Leroy. “That’s worth more than what we’re asking.”

“How about I give you the CR, and I’ll throw in these fire-resistant gloves?” I said, just wanting to get rid of them.

Dracol thought about it for a few seconds and then shook his head. “That would be all well and good, had the price not gone up. It’s been so long since we saw you, that we’ve added interest.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” I said.

“You won’t be saying that when you’re waking up in a pod and crying to the techies that two guys killed you in a forest.”

“Why the price hike?” I asked.

“I don’t know if you noticed,” said Red Leroy, “But we don’t have those pretty Halon symbols above our heads anymore.”

“They kicked us out,” said Dracol.

“What a surprise,” I said.

“And being guildless,” continued Leroy, “means we need to equip ourselves better. The CR60 you owned us has gone up to CR150.”

“That’s quite an increase,” said Brian, not caring to disguise the sarcasm in his voice.

“That’s inflation.”

Now we were stuck. None of us had the CR to be able to pay them. Smoglar looked like he was ready to fight. I wanted to kill the two brigands, but even if they weren’t levels above us, our HP bars had been drained already. It was a fight that we were sure to lose.

I looked at Dracol. Staring him in the eyes, I used Snake Tongue.

“We’ll pay you,” I said. “But you’ll have to wait. Give us two days, and you’ll get your CR. After that, I never want to see you again.”

Dracol sighed. “Fine, Tinker. Two days.”

Snake Tongue increased by 25%! (25% to level 2)

He walked over to the weapons crate and picked it up, making light work of the box that even Brian had struggled to heave out of the ground.

“We’re taking this,” he said, “as compensation. I expect to see you in two days’ time with CR150. We’ll be in Ambergrim Fortress, not far from here. Do you know it?”

Brian nodded. “It’s a few miles east.”

“I’ll see you then, my friends,” said Dracol, and sneered.

As the warrior and shaman turned and walked away, I wondered how we would get the money. We could have spent all day picking mushrooms and selling to them, but I wasn’t going to be reduced to that. I was going to have to come up with a way to deal with the two brigands once and for all.

Without warning, Smoglar picked his old axe up off the ground. He charged across the forest, sprinting at the brigands as they walked away. When he reached Dracol he lifted his axe and smashed it into his back. It barely dealt the warrior any damage.

Red Leroy immediately cast a healing spell on his friend, topping up the tiny fraction of health that he had lost. Dracol stepped forward and punched the dwarf in the face. Smoglar’s health bar, already low, dropped further. He stumbled forward and then fell face first onto the floor.

Brian leapt to his feet. I watched on, certain that I had seen my friend die. After a few agonising seconds, Smoglar stirred. He was hurt and stunned, but at least he was alive.

“It’s gone up to CR300 now,” said Dracol. “If your friend tries that again, I’ll murder you all.”

When the brigands had left the forest, we all sat on a felled log. Smoglar said nothing, preferring to stare at the ground and stew in anger. It was Brian who spoke first.

“There’s nothing for it, gentlemen. We’ll just have to find the money.”

“Or we could kill them,” muttered Smoglar.

“And we saw how well that went, didn’t we?”

“Some support would have been nice,” said Smoglar.

“Support? You’re a fool sometimes, dwarf. Did you really think we could take them on?”

“Oh shut up, you lumbering oaf.”

I stood up. “Enough,” I said. The two of them looked up at me, seeming surprised that I had raised my voice. “Brian’s right; we can’t take them in a fight. But I’m not going to give them anything. We need to end this.”

“And how are you going to do that?” said Smoglar, not bothering to hide his mocking tone of voice.

“I’m going to teach them a lesson,” I said.

Chapter Five

Combining the health potion with the bomb and seeing its effect on the Undead Dire Bear was a great feeling. Who doesn’t like it when a gamble pays off? Well, bookmakers and casinos don’t, but everyone else gets a kick out of it. After seeing that work, I had an idea for dealing with Dracol and Red Leroy.

First, I needed supplies, and I knew that CR45 wouldn’t stretch far. My most discernible talents were bomb making and stabbing things with daggers, and people rarely get rich from those. I needed another way to make some CR, fast.

I spent the next few hours picking mushrooms and anything that looked like an herb in the forest. It wasn’t the most glorious work, but you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. There was a travelling merchant who had set up camp a couple of miles outside Gospag forest, and he’d offered to buy any junk I could find. While I worked, Smoglar and Brian roamed the plains outside the forest and spent their time levelling up by killing imps.

With an inventory that was now full of leaves, I found the merchant sat on the ground with a saddle bag beside him. His horse stood a metre away, tied to his arm by a rope. I wondered what would happen to the merchant if the horse suddenly sprang into a gallop, but I doubted he had thought that far ahead. When he saw me, he spat out the grass stalk he was chewing.

“What do you have for me?” he said.

After selling him the herbs, I ended up with CR102, which I then used to buy bomb supplies. After finishing the transaction, an alert filled my screen.

Ability Gained – Herb Master. You are at one with the forest. Well, the plant part of it, anyway. You are skilled in gathering herbs without destroying the plant, and you are more receptive to the knowledge of vegetation. Do you accept?

Although I was anxious to fill my 3rd ability and complete one of the quests I’d set for myself, I wasn’t sure this was it. I knew that once you chose an ability it was locked in, and I didn’t want to waste my last slot. In a way, herb master sat well with my other abilities of Appraiser of Men and Snake Tongue. They were all non-fighting powers, after all. In the end I decided not to accept it. Herb master became a skill rather than an ability.

Despite that, it did make me think. If I was going to start combining things with bombs, then it would be good to know the magical properties of the herbs that grew in the forest. I went over to the merchant and tried to buy one of the herbs back from him. He looked at me like I was crazy.

“You really want to buy this back?”

I nodded.

“Well, its CR2.”

“Come on, pal. You bought it from me for CR1,” I said.

“I’ve gotta make a profit.”

I put my hand in the air and looked deep into his eyes. “You’re going to sell this to me for CR1,” I said.

He blinked, and then nodded.

Snake tongue increased by 5%! (20% until level 2).

I walked away from the merchant so that he couldn’t see what I was doing, and then I sat down. I held the leaf in my hand. It was triangle shaped, and nearly all of it was green save for a thin blue line that ran down the centre like a vein. I focussed on it the way I would with creatures when I was using Appraiser of Men on them. I tried to look deeply at the leaf and discern its properties, but nothing happened. Damn.

I walked back into the forest and began picking more herbs. Another round of picking and then selling, and I would be all set. The irony was that soon I would probably have enough to pay off the brigands, but I wasn’t going to use the CR for that. I knew that even if I paid them, Red Leroy wouldn’t remove the marker he had on me, and the two of them would keep coming back for more. I needed to shut them up for good.

As I reached down to grab a purple leaf, a chill shuddered through me. I suddenly had the feeling that someone was watching me. I looked around and all I saw were the dead trees of Gospag, with their spindly limbs interlocking to form a roof. There were no Blood Steer around, and I knew it would be a while before they respawned. All the same, I felt like something was staring at me.

I stood up. As I looked around, I felt something hit me in the chest. It didn’t hurt but instead seemed as if something had rushed through me. It filled my body with cold, and I thought I heard a voice whisper in my ear. A second later, it was gone, and the feeling of being watched went along with it.

Quest Received: Find Her.

You have received a mysterious quest. You don’t know who sent it, who they want you to find, or what they’ll give you for completing it. Not much to go on, is it?  It’s a complete leap of faith, but some people like leaping. Do you accept?

It was a strange thing to happen, but I was quickly getting used to how cryptic things were in Re:Fuze. First there was the mystery viewer, and then item they had sent me, and now this. Well, I wasn’t here to spend all my time picking herbs, was I? I accepted the quest and then checked to make sure it was in my quest log.

After selling the rest of my herbs to the merchant I bought all the supplies I would need to carry out my plan to finish the brigands. With that done, I went to meet Smoglar and Brian.

I found them camped in the mouth of a small cave at the edge of the forest. As I approached them, I saw that the giant and the dwarf were leaning in close to each other and whispering. When they saw me, they sat up straight.

Message From Viewer: ‘Don’t trust them.’

Dude, change the record. I was sick of his, or her, cryptic messages. Despite the mystery item they had given me, I was starting to feel that the viewer was working against me. It seemed like they were trying to plant seeds of doubt in our small party.

I joined Smoglar and Brian in the cave and warmed myself next to the fire. The flames illuminated the stone walls, and I saw that stick drawings were scratched into them. We sat for a few minutes and spoke about our plans. There was a hamlet not too far away, but we decided that we would give it a miss for now. I think at that point, we were all sick of NPCs and other players.

I listened to Smoglar describe in graphic detail everything he was going to do to Dracol and Red Leroy the next time he saw them. As he talked, I couldn’t help but think about the viewer’s words. I hated even considering it, but a part of me wondered now if there was something to what they had said.

No. There couldn’t be. The giant and the dwarf had done nothing but help me all this time, and they had never given me a reason to doubt them.

All the same, I looked at Smoglar with a strong concentration. As he described how deep he would stab his axe into Red Leroy’s back, I used Appraiser of Men on him. For a second the dwarf looked at me, and I wondered if he knew that I was breaking the agreement we had made. Then he turned back to Brian and continued his fantasies. As I focussed on him, I saw not just Smoglar’s character level, but something else.

I closed my eyes. For a second, I wasn’t in the cave anymore but in another place. It was a temple made of marble. A group of men walked through it with their swords unsheathed. A couple of them carried torches that cast yellow glows in the darkness. Smoglar was there, but he wasn’t a dwarf. He was six feet tall, and he had a sickle in his left hand, and his right hand glowed red with magic.

Before I could see more, the image scrambled in my mind and the colours blended together. When they refocussed I saw the same marble room, but this time Smoglar was dying on the floor. Blood seeped out underneath him, and he made choking sounds as his last seconds of life ebbed away. Finally, he perished, and a clatter disturbed the stillness as his sickle fell from his hand.

Appraiser of Men increased by 25%

Level up!

Your ability is now Level 2 – Appraiser of Everything

Smoglar stopped talking to Brian and stared at me. There was a look in his eyes, but it wasn’t his usual anger. This was different.

“Everyone has a past, Janus. Sometimes it’s best to leave it there,” he said.

I couldn’t process what he had said to me because I was focussed on my new ability. If my Appraiser skill had upgraded to Appraiser of Everything, did that extend to items now? In my book, ‘everything’ meant, well, everything. But in Re:Fuze, things were rarely what they seemed.

I had to try it out. I had sold all my herbs to the merchant, so I needed something to identify. I looked in my inventory and then saw it. Of course! The item that the viewer had sent me. I took it out and looked at it.

Rare Item [Unidentified] x1

I held it in my hands. I could feel its weight, but in its current state it seemed to be shapeless, as though it wouldn’t fully take form until I identified it. An insatiable curiosity took hold of me, and for a second every cell in my body ached to know what it was. At the same time, something held me back, like hands trying to drag me away and stop what I was doing.

I shook the feeling away. I looked at the item and focussed on it, feeling its weight and letting its shape slowly take form. Gradually it started to shift. I saw the gleam of metal, and it transformed before my eyes. It was a dagger.

The Old Serpent’s Sting

Damage: 500

Drains 25HP on use

Reveals user’s location to all Serpents on the map until dagger is no longer in possession

When Brian saw the dagger in my hands, he stared at it for a few seconds. A look of recognition crossed his face, and the colour drained from his cheeks. He stood up out of his seat, bumping his head on the low cave roof.

“Where did you get that?” he said, his voice grave.

“I’ve had it with me all along, remember? The viewer gave it to me.”

“You need to get rid of that, Janus.”

Smoglar looked at me. “What’s all the fuss about?” he said.

Then, when he saw the dagger, he almost fell over. “What the hell are you playing at? Are you crazy?”

I looked at my friends. I was confused. The damage of the dagger dwarfed anything I was ever likely to find. Yes, it drained HP from me if I used it, and I obviously didn’t want to have my location revealed to every Serpent on the map. Surely this was still a good thing to have?

“It’s just a dagger,” I said, holding it out toward Brian. “Here, take a look.”

The giant backed away from me. “Keep that thing to yourself,” he said. “Put it away, and for God’s sake don’t use it. Not until I figure out what to do.”

“You’ve brought a whole load of trouble our way, boy,” said Smoglar. “More than you will ever realise.”

“I don’t get it, guys,” I said.

Brian walked over to the mouth of the cave and looked out. Certain that nobody was around, he turned to face me.

“That’s not just a rare item, Janus. That’s a legendary item. It’s the Old Serpent’s Sting. You know who this belonged to?”

“I got it from a viewer, so I guess it was theirs.”

The giant shook his head. “That was Necrolor’s blade. The Serpents have been looking for this for years, ever since he died. Do you know why?”

“They really don’t like losing their stuff?” I said, hoping to lighten the mood.

“That dagger, boy,” said Smoglar, “will glow when you’re near one of Necrolor’s death shards. There are five shards left to gather before he can be resurrected. As I’m sure you’ll understand, the Serpents would dearly love to have this back. That makes it the deadliest weapon in the game.”

The realisation hit me full force. This was not a gift, nor was it good. I had come into possession of one of the most dangerous items it was possible to own.

“We need to destroy it,” I said.

Brian and Smoglar both nodded. “I’m glad you’re catching on,” said the dwarf.

Quest added: Destroy the Dagger

You’ve found yourself in possession of one of the most dangerous items in the game. Lucky you! Let the Serpents find the dagger, and it will eventually guide them to the death shards of their overlord, Necrolor. You must destroy the dagger.

Optional: Give the dagger to the Serpents and welcome the Fire Lord back into Re:Fuze

Do you accept?

Chapter Six

It seemed like it was a lot of trouble for such a small dagger to cause. On the face of it, the weapon looked like a throwaway piece of loot you might find after smashing a barrel. I already had a standard dagger in my inventory. The two would have been indistinguishable were it not for the slightly darker tint on the handle of the Old Serpent’s Sting.

The quest message screen, upset at being ignored, started to vibrate, and the words ‘Do you accept?’ glowed. There was nothing to think about, really. What was I going to do, ignore it? Just go and hand the dagger to Herelius Rouge and let him bring back Necrolor who, by all accounts, was quite a nasty man?

“I take it you got the quest too?” I said, looking at my friends.

Brian still hadn’t settled down, and he paced back and forth in the cave. Smoglar sat on a rock and he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He stared at the dagger.

“Let’s just melt it down,” he said. “Find a forge and throw it in. Job done. We could turn the metal into a pretty bracelet, and then I’ll wear it to the next Serpent Christmas ball.”

Brian didn’t even crack a smile. “Here’s what we’ll do. We travel to the West Coast, to the Silent Port, and then we row a boat into the middle of the sea and sink it with a weight.”

“Or,” said Smoglar, standing up, “We find a piece of string and an eagle. We tie the dagger to the eagle’s talons and then release it into the sky.”

I twisted the dagger in my hand. I knew Smoglar was being stupid now, but maybe his first plan was right. We could try destroying it with fire. Brian’s idea made some sense, but I didn’t think it would work. Throwing it in the sea meant hiding it, and that meant that it could be found again one day. If I was to take on this quest, then I’d have to finish things for good.

“So we’re all agreed that we’re going to destroy it?” I said.

Smoglar looked up at the giant. “Stop pacing, lad. You’re making me anxious. Settle down, will you?”

Brian lowered himself to the ground. “I agree, Janus. The last thing Re:Fuze needs is Necrolor coming back. I’m with you, and I can speak for my dwarf friend here too. Our paths cross Herelius’ just as much as yours does.”

I held the dagger firm in my hand and looked at the fire. When I thought about throwing it in, I expected something to stop me, as if the dagger would resist me somehow.

“If we’re agreed then, I’ll just destroy it.”

I threw the dagger into the flames, where it fell to the centre amongst the burnt wood and ash. The yellow heat licked over it and I saw a black scorch mark spread across the wooden handle.

“How long does it take metal to melt?” asked Brian.

“The flame has to be a lot hotter than this,” I said. “It’d take at least 1400 degrees. We need a fire mage or something.”

“I doubt that will work,” said Smoglar. “Take the dagger out.”

With my other, non-legendary, dagger, I dragged the Old Serpent’s Sting out of the fire. Careful not to touch it, I pushed it on the floor so that we could all see it. The scorch mark on the hilt had disappeared, and the metal showed not even the slightest indication that it had been in a fire.

After the Sting had cooled I picked it up again. I hadn’t really expected the fire to melt it, but I wanted to see if it would do any damage at all. Far from that, the Sting looked just as it had before meeting the flames.

I twisted it in my hands and focussed on it. This time, while I used Appraiser of Everything, I turned the weapon over so that I could look at every inch of it, from the tip of the blade all the way down to the handle. It was on the handle that I finally saw some words carved into the wood. They were invisible to the eye, but they were there all the same. I didn’t read them; it was more like I felt them.

“Wrought by the men whom the shadows obey,” I said aloud. The words seemed strange, as though they shouldn’t have been spoken. Brian gave Smoglar a grim look.

“Any idea what that means?” I said.

“That’s the Greyes,” said Smoglar. “The men the shadows obey. That’s something the Greye guild say.”

Brian nodded. “Which means that the dagger was made by them and given to Necrolor, but why? In the battle of the Plains of Jordan, the Greyes helped the Halons and Mercs defeat the Serpents.”

“In that case, we need to find the Greyes,” I said. “If they made it, they can destroy it.”

“Simple, when you put it like that,” said Smoglar, forcing a heavy dose of sarcasm into his voice.

Quest Updated – Destroy the Dagger

Good news -You have a lead. You know who made the dagger, and now all you need to do is to travel to the home of the most secretive clan in Re:Fuze. Unfortunately, nobody knows where their homeland is or how to get there, but that’s your problem now, buddy!

“Before we do anything else,” said Brian, “We need to deal with Dracol and Red Leroy. We can hardly travel the world map knowing they could pop up at any time.”

I put the dagger in my inventory bag. “Not only that,” I said. “If we manage to find where the Greyes are, I doubt they’ll be happy with me leading a couple of brigands to them.”

“You said you had a plan?” said Brian.

I nodded. “I do.”

Smoglar leaned forward. “I’m all ears, boy.”

“I need to be able to sneak effectively,” I said. “But we don’t have time for me to level up. That’s the first problem we need to solve.”

***

We left the cave and travelled to a hamlet nearby. On the way there Smoglar complained of a rock in his shoe, and progress was halted as we stood and watched him fish it out. I couldn’t help grinning as the stone evaded him and his face grew redder and redder.

When we finally reached the hamlet, I saw that even the word ‘hamlet’ was an exaggerated term for it. It consisted of two buildings with a small, square courtyard in the middle. One of the buildings was a trade shop, and the other was the trader’s house. I wondered how he could afford to live in such a small place in a remote part of the map, but then I saw the vegetables growing in his garden. He was most likely self-sufficient and only relied on passing trade to make a side income.

We found that the shop was closed, but a bell hung off the front door. I pulled it and made it ring. The sound disturbed a group of birds who were foraging in the trader’s garden, and they flapped off into the sky. A few seconds later the trader came running out of the house next to us. He was a skinny man, and his clothes were so baggy they looked like they could fall right off him. It looked like he’d lost a lot of weight recently.

He stood in front of us and looked us up and down, craning his neck when he stared at Brian.

“You’re not a travelling circus are you?” he said.

The movement was slight, but I saw Smoglar grip the handle of his axe tighter.

“We need to buy something from you,” I said. “I’m looking for something that will help me sneak. Some boots or something like that.”

“You’re not a thief, I hope?”

“Do we look like thieves?” said Smoglar.

The trader put his hands on his hips. He didn’t show even a trace of intimidation at the three strangers on his doorstep.

“You look like a giant, a dwarf and a man travelling together. You’re holding weapons and trying to increase your sneak skills. It doesn’t seem proper to me.”

“If we’ve got the coin, what do you care?” I said.

The trader looked around. Apart from the birds perched on the wall near his garden, there wasn’t any sign of life for miles around.

“True enough,” he said. “Give me a minute.”

He unlocked the door of his store and went inside. We heard lots of clanging as he rummaged through his stock and finally, he came out. He wasn’t holding boots or enchanted armour or anything like that, but instead had a glass vial with a silver liquid inside it.

“One potion of sneak. I bought it from a thief who was hanging up his boots, so to speak. Yours for the pretty sum of CR30.”

I only had CR20 on me after buying bomb supplies, but I had other things in my inventory that I could add to the trade. The problem was that I needed something that gave me a lasting sneak boost, rather than just the temporary gain a potion would offer me.

“Don’t you have anything else?” I asked.

“Just this. Yours for only CR35.”

“You just said 30 only a second ago.”

“Did I?” said the trader. “So I did. CR40 it is.”

I sighed. I stared him in the eyes and spoke clearly, feeling my Snake Tongue wrap my words with confidence.

“You’ll sell it me for CR20,” I said.

“Sold! To the man in the dirty leather armour. It’s a pleasure doing business.”

Snake Tongue increased by 25%!

Level Up to Level 2!

Snake Tongue ability changed to Animal Whisperer:

As well as persuading those who speak the common tongue, you can now convince creatures and animals to stop fighting you. In some cases you can even get them to join your side in a battle. This will not work each time, but higher intelligence and charisma increases your odds.

This was a skill worth having! Battles in Re:Fuze were so hard-fought that even the slightest advantage could turn the odds. If we were fighting, say, a herd of Blood Steer and I was able to turn one of them against their own, that would help tremendously.

I still had 2 skill points from my last level up, so I added them to my intelligence and charisma to improve my Bomb Making and Animal Whispering.

Intelligence increased to 10!

Charisma increased to 9!

The trader leaned in close to me.  “Tell you what,” he said, “I’ll do better than selling it to you for CR20. I’ll give it to you for free, and I’ll throw in some healing and mana potions. You look like you spend a lot of time on the road, and it’s always handy to have grog.”

“Why do I get the feeling there’s a catch?” I said.

“Because there is,” answered the trader.

Brian looked at me and nodded. “Potions are expensive, Janus. It might be worth listening to him.”

“Especially if you insist on loading your potions into bombs,” said Smoglar.

I crossed my arms. “Okay, go on.”

“Here’s the thing,” said the trader. “This place is hardly the commercial centre of the land, and not many suppliers come here. For the last twenty years, I’ve been getting my stock from a guy called Bear Kiele. I’m running out of supplies, and it’s been months since Bear came by.

“I started wondering why that was, when a note was delivered to me attached to the claw of an eagle. It was from Bear, and he said that to get to me he has to travel through Raven Gully. Apparently, people have been killed in Raven Gully by some kind of creature. Bear is refusing to travel through until it’s safe.”

After listening to him, I nodded. “So you want us to go the Raven Gully and kill whatever the creature is?”

“Kill it, convince it to leave, throw it a party. I don’t care what you do as long as Bear gets through. It’s been ages since I stocked up. He usually brings me a new selection of books, too. Do you know that I’ve been reading the same copy of ‘The Blasphemous Hog’ for months now?”

I turned away from the trader and looked at Brian and Smoglar. “You guys okay with this? We could always use the potions.”

“You’re the boss,” said Smoglar, and grinned.

Quest Received – Clear Raven Gully of the Beast

There’s a creature stalking Raven’s Gully and stopping travellers from passing through. Are you strong enough to stop it? I doubt you are, but you might as well try.

Rewards:

45 exp

Sneak Potion x1

Health Potion x10

Mana Potion x10

Chapter Seven

We found Raven Gully south of the trader’s house. We saw few creatures on the way to it, and only one player crossed our paths. He was a level 18 Shaman named The Sullied Onionman. He ran in front of us, completely naked, and then sprinted off into the distance without saying a word.

Raven Gully was once a ravine that cut through the Raven canyons. Stemming from the river Ryle, which flowed in turn to the Saltblood Ocean, it was used as a shortcut by traders travelling to Iskarg. After the Nine Month Summer the ravine dried up, and all that is left of it is a dusty trail that cuts through the rocks.

The Gully around us was so dry that it made me need a drink of water just looking at it. Orange cliffs rose fifty feet into the air either side of us, and the passageway was so tight that it made our words echo. I looked ahead but couldn’t see any sign of a creature stalking the canyon.

“Stay alert,” I said. “Depending on what this thing is, we might need to change tactics. I’ve prepared some screw bombs already, and I made a few mushroom bombs. I’m hoping they’ll heal us.”

“Or they might just blast us with burning fungus,” said Smoglar.

As we walked through the gully we looked from left to right, expecting something to leap out at us. The pathway was so tight that it made me feel claustrophobic. Gradually it opened up until finally, we reached the centre.

Something snorted ahead of us. It was a deep, wheezing sound.

“This is it,” I said.

We walked around a corner and then stood in the middle of the gully. This was a large circle that had been cut into the cliffs, and it seemed that it had been done purposefully rather than by the ravine. The remnants of old camp sites and bonfires were scattered around us. In the centre, watching us with a hateful stare, was the creature we had heard.

It was a Desert Boar.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Smoglar. “This is the thing that’s been stopping people getting through?”

There had to be more to it than this. I focussed on the boar and used my Appraiser skill. With my increased intelligence I found it easier to concentrate, and within a few seconds its stats displayed in front of me.

Desert Boar – Level 7

HP: 125 / 125

Looking around, I saw that the gully was empty. There were a few openings dug into the sides of the cliffs around us, but other than that there was nothing strange.

“I didn’t expect it to be so easy,” I said.

“Maybe the Gods are smiling on us for once,” said Smoglar. “First one to kill it gets the meat.”

With that he rushed toward the boar with his axe held in the air, bellowing as he charged. The boar saw him and took a few tentative steps back and gave a snort.

As Smoglar reached the animal he swung his axe and dug it into the creature’s flesh, carving away half of its HP. With another cleave it was dead, and a few seconds later its corpse evaporated into the air.

I walked forward to join Smoglar in the centre of the opening. I expected a message to display telling us that we had completed the quest, but nothing came. Something wasn’t right. I took a screw bomb out of my bag and held it ready to light.

As if to confirm my suspicions, I heard the sound of whooping and yelling all around us. I looked to my left. High up on the side of the cliff, where a six-foot hole had been cut, a group of men and women emerged. They had long hair that fell to their shoulders, and they wore armour that was in tatters. Staring at us, they carefully climbed down the sides of the walls.

“It was an ambush,” grunted Smoglar. He pointed to our right, where another group were climbing down the cliff face.

“Raiders,” said Brian. “They must have been camping here and trapping anyone who crossed the gully.”

“Let’s go, tank,” I said, looking at Smoglar.

As the raiders ran at us I lit my screw bomb and tossed it into the crowd. It exploded on impact, sending shards of metal flying out. Some of the raiders screamed as the screws embedded in their flesh and drained their hit points.

One raider, the tallest of the group, reached Smoglar and swung a rusty broadsword at his head. Luck must have been with the dwarf, because he was able to dodge just enough to avoid a critical hit, and the blade hit his arm instead. Grunting in pain, he dropped his axe to the floor.

Brian tossed another bomb as the raiders flooded toward us. Smoglar picked up his axe and fought with the taller raider, each of them striking blows that drained the other’s health. Smoglar’s attacks seemed to have more effect. With relief, I saw that the raider’s health bar drained faster than my friend’s.

I lit another screw bomb and threw it into the mix. The explosion echoed through the gully, sending a flight of ravens into the air. Men and women screamed around me. I tried to focus on the survivors, but messages flooded my vision.

15 Exp Gained!

15 Exp Gained!

15 Exp Gained!

Smoglar hit the raider leader with the blade of his axe, making the taller man stumble back. His health bar was but a fraction now, and it would take just one more blow to finish him.

Suddenly a red glow surrounded him, like a flickering light of magic enclosing his body.

“He’s got the Final Strike ability,” said Brian, as he lit a bomb. “His attacks are tripled near death. Watch out for him.”

The warning was lost on Smoglar, whose eyes burned with anger. He rushed at the raider leader, but the taller man dodged to the side and then caught the dwarf with a critical strike. Smoglar crashed to the floor and his hit points drained almost empty.

I couldn’t let Smoglar take another hit, and I didn’t have time to make another bomb. While Brian tossed an explosive at the last of the raiders, I pulled out my dagger and rushed at the leader. The man stared at me wide-eyed as I charged. He lifted his blade, but before he could swing it I stabbed my weapon deep into his chest, pushing it until I felt his bones crack. He let out a final gasp and then fell to the floor.

I turned around to strike the next raider that I saw, but all of them lay dead on the floor with the smoke from Brian’s bomb rising above them.

Level Up to level 11!

Exp to next level: 158

After the battle, we all sat and let our stamina recharge. I had a few mushrooms left in my inventory, so I handed them to Smoglar so that he could recover some of his health. Brian sat on a rock with his legs crossed and looked at the carnage around him. The raider’s bodies had started to evaporate, leaving only their loot behind.

“Melee weapons go to Smoglar,” I said. “And Brian and I split the CR. Deal?”

Smoglar shook his head. “Nice try. How about a 40, 40, 20 split? I need beer money.”

I nodded. “Sounds good, my friend. I can’t believe it was raiders tricking people all this time.”

“You can’t trust people,” said Smoglar.

Message from viewer: ‘He’s right.’

Smoglar looked at me and smiled. The expression on his face was one that I had seen before; back when he told me that things in the past should stay there.

“You’ve proven yourself to be a friend to us, Janus,” he said. “So I reckon it’s about time we clued you in a little.”

He looked at Brian. The giant nodded, and said: “Go ahead.”

“I wasn’t always a dwarf,” said Smoglar. “And Brian wasn’t always a giant. Not so long ago, both of us were levels 68 and 73. I was 73, obviously. Now don’t get uppity about this, but Brian and I were in the Serpent guild. We were officers, which is a few ranks higher than an inductee.

“We weren’t bad people, but being in the Serpent guild gave you a certain respect. Not to mention that as officers, we got paid a healthy salary from the guild coffers. One day Brian and I were asked by the high command to deposit our CR in the guild bank. The account we used would be our own, but the guild would make a profit on the interest. In turn, they'd use that for weapon-forging and to buy scrolls.

“Not only that, but Herelius had decided that a large chunk of guild money would be dedicated to finding Necrolor. Brian and I counselled against this. Our dead leader was feared by everyone in the guild, and he had brought us nothing but war and pain. We thought that the guild should have taken his death as an opportunity to go in a new direction. Make peace treaties with the Halons, and set up trade routes with the Mercs.  You know, bring some stability to the world. We could even hold an election to choose a new leader.

“I remember being in the room with Herelius when I said this to him. He gave me a smile, but it was so cold that it chilled my bones. He stood up and thanked me for the advice. I knew then that something was wrong.”

The dwarf stopped talking for a while, and I thought about what he had said. Everything I knew about the Serpents led me to believe they were bad people, but that couldn’t be completely true. Smoglar and Brian were my friends. Sure, Smoglar was a little aggressive sometimes, but he had good intentions. Most of the time, anyway.

Smoglar sat up straighter. “After the meeting, Brian and I went to the guild bank to deposit our CR.”

“Was the bank made of marble, by any chance?” I asked, remembering the vision I’d had of him lying dead on the floor.

Brian looked at me strangely. “How did you know?”

“He appraised me,” said Smoglar. “I knew you were doing it, Janus. Your skill needs to be a lot better before you can do it without people realising.”

I gave him a grim nod. “I’m sorry. I just had to know.”

“Had to know what?” asked Brian.

“If I could trust you.”

“And can you?”

I thought about it, and I knew the answer instantly. “Yes,” I said.

As the gully stayed silent around us and the ravens flapped back to their perching spots, Smoglar spoke.

“When we got to the bank we found Herelius, Battan555 and Dyzmal waiting in ambush. Battan cast a spell to hold us in place, while Dyzmal robbed us of everything in our inventory. After that, Herelius killed us.”

“He betrayed us,” said Brian. “And that’s why our path is entwined with yours.”

Quest Complete: Clear Raven Gully of the Beast

45 Exp Gained!

Items received:

Sneak Potion x1

Health Potion x10

Mana Potion x10

Chapter Eight

After dividing up the potions between the group, Brian marked Ambergrim Fortress on my map. I set off there alone, travelling with caution to make sure I didn’t run into trouble. We were in an area of the map where quests were few and loot was rare, and there weren’t many players around to take an interest in me. After walking for miles, the structure finally loomed in sight.

It was a grey stone edifice with a twenty-foot wall surrounding it. Four watchtowers marked the corners. Gaps were cut into the walls where, back when it was an occupied fortress, archers would rest their crossbows to help their aim. The building gave off an aura of gloom as if nothing living had crossed its threshold in decades.

I stopped short of the walls. The brigands would be in here and they would be expecting me, but not just yet. I took the sneak potion out of my bag. The silver liquid looked thick, like metal that had been melted down. When I unscrewed the cork a thin mist drifted out, and I smelled something bitter. I drank the potion down and then held my hands in front of me. My skin shimmered and then started to fade. I could still see my palms, but it seemed as if they were made of smoke. The effects wouldn’t last long, I knew, so I had to work quickly.

Ambergrim Fortress was home to the Ledbarrow clan of dwarves. Under the rule of Dhoruth Ledbarrow, the dwarves of Amerbrim became wealthy stone merchants. They dug minerals from a mine underneath the fortress and shaped them to be sold to nearby towns and cities. The stone under the fortress was imbued with durability spells from a mysterious source. It made mining difficult, but increased the market value of the finished product.

As the dwarves dug deeper, strange things happened. There were accidents in the mine, and several of the Ledbarrow clan perished. Advisors urged Dhoruth to stop mining, but the clan chief pushed them on.

Finally, they came to a sheet of rock with runes carved onto the surface. Gygorgian, a lore-master and advisor to Dhoruth, begged his ruler to halt mining while he deciphered the runes. Turned rash by greed, Dhoruth dismissed his closest friend. Just weeks after breaking the surface of the runes and digging deeper, the Dwarves awoke something from a deep slumber. None of them were ever seen again.

The only survivor was Gygorgian. It is said that he wanders the land trying to decipher those dark runes, and one day he will return to the fortress to avenge his fallen clan.

As I wandered through the deserted fortress I looked down at the floor. I saw stones crunch under my feet, but they made no sound. Everything around me was silent. Shadows covered the ruins, and I felt myself drawn to them, as if the sneak potion were urging me into the darkness. Sticking close to the wall, I went ahead with the plan.

On the way to the fortress I had stopped by Gospag Forest and spent time picking herbs. After using my Appraise Everything skill on each herb, I had finally found the one I sought. It was an herb called Paralys, and it had the effect of stunning those who ate it. I opened my bomb casings and mixed gunpowder with crushed herb, and soon I had a bag full of stun bombs.

I walked through the fortress planting the stun bombs in strategic locations. I stuffed them in holes in the crumbling walls and hid them next to doors. I couldn’t be sure where Dracol and Red Leroy were, but if I covered enough places with my bombs, I would get lucky.

Brian and Smoglar had stayed back at the hamlet for a while, but I knew they would be on their way now. Since the plan relied on stealth, it was agreed that I would come here alone and use the sneak potion. They would meet me soon, and then we’d draw out Dracol and Red Leroy. If all went to plan, one of my bombs would stun the brigands. At that point we’d strip them of their weapons, recover Smoglar’s stash, and then force Leroy to remove the map marker he had on me.

As I explored the ruins I couldn’t help but think of a familiar phrase. ‘The best laid plans of tinkers, giants and dwarfs….’ I forced it out of my mind. Self-doubt was a good thing in doses because it made you careful, but I didn’t need it today. I didn’t have long before the potion would wear off, and I had to move quickly.

I came to a room that looked like it served as a dining area for the people who once lived here. There was a long table that had collected so much dust and rubble that the wood was grey instead of brown. Lined against the walls were bulbous cooking cauldrons that hadn’t been used in years.

I was going to skip the dining room since it didn’t seem like the brigands had been here, when something caught my eye on one side of it. It was an object on the floor next to the wall and it was coated in dust, but it seemed worth investigating.

I crossed the room, making sure that my steps were silent. Every so often I glanced around, but I was sure nobody was here. I walked over to the wall and kneeled down.

It was an axe. It was larger than Smoglar’s, and there were three sockets gouged into the handle. Two of them were empty, but the one at the top had an amber gem in it. I didn’t want to spend time appraising it yet, but it seemed perfect for the dwarf.

Item Received: Axe [Unidentified]

I heard voices from outside the room, and they were accompanied by the sound of footsteps. I knew that Brian and Smoglar weren’t here, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be so loud.

“What was it you wanted to show me?” said a voice.

I moved away and into the corner, and then I watched as the brigands entered the room. Dracol walked in first, and he paced around the dining table.

“Picture this,” he said to Red Leroy, who watched him. “We get rid of the table and the rest of the crap in here. Connect a few chains to the wall. Then, when we start kidnapping Halons, we can bring them here. We soundproof the walls and then voila, we have hostages who can scream all they like and nobody will hear them.”

“It’s a stupid plan. Supposing the guild amasses its army and comes to kill us?”

“One, they won’t know where we are. Two, they wouldn’t do that. Not for just two or three guild members. They’d rather pay us off than go to the trouble of marching an army across the map.”

I didn’t like being so close to them. Dracol stood just feet away from me, but it was clear he hadn’t noticed me. I had already planted all the stun bombs that I had with me, and I needed to leave before they knew I was here. Then I would skirt around the fortress, let the potion wear off, and walk back in through the front gate as if I had never been here before.

As I sat in the shadows, I stretched my arm out in front of me. From my bicep and all the down to my wrist, my arm still seemed made of mist. My hand, however, was all too fleshy. The potion was wearing off.

If I stayed in the corner they’d see me. The only option I had was to try and move, and with that was the chance that I would break my sneak and reveal myself to them. I had no choice. I stood up. Keeping my head low, I walked as quietly as I could across the room. Dracol was mere feet away from me now, but he didn’t even glance in my direction.

I was so close to him that I could smell the sweat on his skin and the leather of his armour. Edging slowly away, I almost made it out of the room. Just as I reached the door, Red Leroy stepped in front of me.

“Did you honestly think I hadn’t seen you?” he said.

I looked around me. Dracol stared at me now. He unsheathed his sword and gripped it in both hands.

“Your potion wore off a few minutes ago,” he said. “I thought I’d see how long I could pretend you weren’t there.”

With that, both men started laughing. Taking advantage of their lack of focus, I sprinted out of the room and into the corridor. I ran down to the end, and this time I could hear the sound of my feet crunching on stone. At the end of the corridor I bent down, lit one of the stun bombs I had placed, and then covered it with rubble.

Dracol was the first to enter the corridor. As he charged toward me, I held my hand up.

“I’m not going to fight,” I said. “You’ve got me.”

Dracol held me in place while Leroy strode down the corridor. When he reached me, he held his hands out. A green ball started to take shape between his palms. At first, it looked like a ball of light, but then I saw that green liquid dripped from the edges.

“I’d like to say this won’t hurt,” he said. “But I’m told that it hurts a lot. Don’t worry, though, we’ll still get our CR. We’ll take it from your corpse.”

“Where are your friends?” said Dracol, looking around.

“I’ve got one right here,” I said.

I kicked the rubble next to my feet to reveal the bomb. The flame sparkled down the fuse and before Dracol could do anything, it reached the end. The explosion echoed through the corridor and dislodged some of the stone wall, which crashed onto the floor. A pale blue energy covered Dracol and spread over his skin, freezing him as he lifted his sword.

I drew my dagger. The stun had worked, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

“Clever tinker,” said Leroy, across from me. “You’ve grown stronger since I last saw you.”

“You’re not stunned,” I said.

Leroy lifted his bony fingers to his throat and grasped an amulet that hung around his neck.

“This little beauty resists shocks, paralysis and stuns. Quite a handy thing to have.”

Leroy held his hands out in front of him. A fireball took shape, and just as he launched it in my direction, I ducked out of the way and then ran through the corridor. I followed the stone passageway until it opened up into a large room. This one had stained-glass windows lining the walls, and the arched ceiling was thirty feet above me.

From deeper in the fortress, I heard the sound of Leroy’s footsteps as he came for me. I opened my inventory and made some hastily-crafted screw bombs. They looked like crap, but as long as they exploded, I didn’t care. There was a wooden pew across from me, so I ducked behind it and lined the bombs next to me, ready to light and launch them as soon as I saw my pursuer.

A door opened to my left. It was a set of wooden double doors with spirals carved into the stained oak. They creaked as though they hadn’t been opened properly in years. I lit a bomb and held it high, waiting for the fuse to burn.

Red Leroy didn’t step through the doors. Instead, it was Smoglar and Brian. Brian stepped in the room and walked a few paces. He looked up at the ceiling and saw how high up it was.

“Now this is my kind of place,” he said. “I don’t know why more buildings don’t have ceilings as high as this.”

“Are we all set?” said Smoglar.

I shook my head. “Things didn’t go exactly to plan.”

A fireball shot through the room and exploded on the pew in front of me, sending a spray of splinters into my face. I backed away, feeling my skin sting from where the shards of wood had stabbed me. Red Leroy stood in the other doorway of the room.

I held my bomb and then launched it at the shaman. It landed next to him, exploded, and drained a small chunk of his health.

“It’s going to take more than that,” he said, before blasting another fireball. This one shot low across the room, hitting Brian in the shins and sending the giant to the floor.

Leroy was too powerful for us, and I doubted I could make enough bombs to finish him. I reached into my inventory and pulled out the axe that I had found in the dining room. I threw it across the room, where it landed at Smoglar’s feet.

The dwarf picked up the weapon and hefted it in his hands. His eyes grew wide, like a kid who had just woken up to find it was Christmas.

“Identify it for me, will you?” he said.

I focussed. With my increased intelligence and level 2 Appraiser skill, I was able to identify the weapon quicker than I expected.

The Axe of Dhoruth

Damage: 209

Effects:

- Critical strike chance increased to 33%

- Greed: Intelligence drops when in the presence of high-value jewels

Smoglar laughed and then gripped the axe tight in both hands. “It’s a little heavy, but I think I’m in love already.”

The dwarf rushed at Leroy, who had a fireball the size of a melon between his palms. I grabbed a bomb and cut the fuse in half so that it detonated quicker. I lit the end and then launched it at the Shaman, where it exploded next to his shoulder. It didn’t cause him much damage, but it was enough to spoil his concentration and ruin his fireball.

Smoglar reached him and lifted his axe in the air. He gave a shout that echoed up to the rafters, and then struck Leroy with all his might. There was a blinding red flash, and then I heard Leroy scream in agony. The next thing we heard was the sound of his dead body hitting the ground.

Brian crossed the room. He bent down near a wall, and then a second later dragged a wooden crate across the stone floor. Smoglar turned and looked at him, then smiled.

“It must be my birthday. First I get this beauty of an axe, then I level up, and then I get my stash back.”

I stood above the crate and looked in it. To my dismay, I saw nothing but weapons far too strong for me to handle.

“You guys tool up,” I said. “You’re welcome to it all.”

“I promised there’d be something for you, and I always keep my promises,” said Smoglar.

He walked to the crate and rummaged around in it, before finally pulling out a metal breast piece. The metal was grey and faded, and there was the outline of a book carved into the centre of it.

“Get dressed, tinker,” he said.

Item received: The Scholar’s Chest plate

Item class: Unusual

Defence Points: 25

+10 to intelligence

+ 4 to charisma

I took off my leather armour and squeezed into the chest plate. The fit was snug and the metal felt cold against my skin, and for a few seconds I found it hard to adjust to the sudden change in weight. Soon though, I felt my stats increase.

I heard the sound of footsteps pounding down a corridor. I turned to see Dracol running through the doorway with an enraged look on his face and his sword lifted high above his head. He looked at our faces in turn, no doubt wondering who to expend his wrath on.

The warrior barely had time to make his decision, when a tremendous cracking sound filled the room. The floor beneath us started to fragment like the fault line of an earthquake. The walls around us vibrated, and I moved to the side as the floor split beneath me.

Gradually the lines widened until they became a hole, and the hole turned into a gulf. Arms reached up out of the darkness and clung onto the edges of the floor.  Soon there were dozens of hands reaching up. As the first of the figures heaved itself up out of the gap, I found myself looking into the face of an undead warrior. I didn’t know how long they had been waiting, buried underneath the stone, but it seemed they weren’t happy.

They climbed out of the hole in droves. Despite their skeletal frames, they still seemed to have great strength. They held rusted weapons in their hands, and they looked at us - the living - and screwed their faces up in disgust.

One of them crossed the room and seized Dracol. Without giving the warrior chance to fight back, it gripped him and then tossed him across the floor. The brigand was unable to stop himself, and he rolled into the hole and disappeared into the darkness below.

Had I been feeling in a jokey mood I might have thanked the undead warriors, but I knew they hadn’t done it to help us. With Dracol gone, they focussed their attention our way. Brian, Smoglar and I backed away as the undead approached.

“This is a pretty good axe,” said Smoglar, “But it’s not that good. We need to do something.”

I walked over to the doorway and kneeled by Leroy’s corpse. I opened his inventory bag and looked inside. It was full of healing and mana potions. There was a staff and his robes, but they were specific to his class. I took them, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to wear them. Maybe I could sell them later.

Now, though, I needed something else. I threw the bag to one side. Clipped against Leeroy’s waist was a smaller bag. I opened it and found something I knew I could use.

Item Received: Spell of Bless

Remembering the story of Lastor Bombraid and how he had combined a spell of Bless with a bomb and used it to wipe out the undead, I did the same. I opened a casing and tipped a pile of gunpowder into it. I unravelled the scroll, careful not to rip the paper.

“Hurry, Janus,” said Brian, launching a screw bomb into the path of the advancing undead.

When I had finished reading the scroll, a yellow light flooded from my hands and into the bomb, mixing with the black gunpowder. I closed the casing and lit the fuse.

As the army of the undead rattled toward us, I threw the bomb. I stood back as it exploded, and a flash of blinding light filled the room. When the glow faded and the noise settled, I looked on to see that we were alone.

Level Up to level 12!

Exp to next level: 175

Chapter Nine

I felt lighter once Red Leroy’s map marker was lifted from me. That was strange, since I now sported metal armour and an inventory full of the dead Shaman’s belongs. If anything, I carried more weight. Now that the brigands had been dealt with, it was time to focus on other quests. We needed to find someone who could destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting. Not only that, but I had to send some CR back to my parents.

The fortress was miles behind us now. As we travelled across the map I marvelled at the landscape. In the distance and miles away a castle stood on top of a hill, and it had a dome that glittered when the sunlight hit it. We crossed a bridge that ran over a stream where blood-red fish swam aggressively, barging each other as they navigated the current.

“You did well, Janus,” said Brian.

“Thanks.”

“I mean it. Back at the fort, your plan might not have worked to the letter-”

“You can say that again,” said Smoglar.

“But it still turned out okay.”

The giant sported a new full armour set that was made of dark leather. The stitching was gold, though Brian told me it was just an effect rather than the real thing. If it had actually been gold, he would have sold the armour rather than have risked ruining it in combat. I had come to realise that above all else, Brian was a practical giant.

“So where now, lads?” said Smoglar. He slung his axe over his shoulder. Every so often he stroked it, as if to reassure himself that his new weapon wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

“We need to find out where the Greyes live,” said Brian. “And then the Greye leader can destroy the dagger.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?” said Smoglar. “I happen to have their address written down.”

Brian shook his head. “You joke, but I’m sure there’s a way to find them.”

“Tell us then, oh wise one,” said the dwarf.

Ignoring his friend’s sarcasm, the giant continued. “There’s a town called Iskarg not too far north. It should take us a week to get there at most. Do you know anything of Iskarg, Janus?”

I thought about it. The name seemed familiar to me, but I didn’t know where from. I had probably read about it back in the library in Dry Gulch.

“It used to be where all the great scholars resided,” said Brian. “It’s been years since a great scholar lived in Re:Fuze, but their library in Iskarg is still there. If anything holds the key to where the Greyes live, it will be in their books.”

Quest Updated – Destroy the Dagger

You are to travel to Iskarg to find the Grand Library. Brian thinks the key to finding the Greye’s homeland is there. The giant is a pretty clever fella, so it’s worth a try.

We spent the rest of the day and the one that followed walking north. A river ran next to us, and as long as we followed it, we knew we were on track. As we journeyed on, we fought any creatures that crossed our path. The further we went the more of them we saw, until soon we all ached with tiredness that not even the thrill of exp could cure.

Brian stopped walking ahead of me and held his hand in the air. “Wait,” he said.

It was night time now, and the stars glittered in the black sky above. Two moons hung side by side. One moon was full, and the other showed only a quarter of its shape.

Ahead of us was a building. The face of it was covered in ivy, and lamps glowed in the windows. A wooden pole stood outside it, from which hung a sign which swung in the wind. ‘The Sick Boar,’ it read.

“Time for a beer,” said Smoglar, his face lighting up.

Brian shook his head. “Oh, no. Not a chance. You know as well as I do that we don’t visit strange taverns.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Taverns are popular amongst thieves, bounty hunters, and people who just love to kill. You can’t trust anybody in a tavern.”

“Just one night,” said Smoglar. “I’m not going to be much use to you if my stamina doesn’t fill, and right now it’s only reaching three-quarters. You know why that is?”

“Because you never sell your old items and your inventory is always full, you hoarder,” I said.

“No. It’s because I haven’t had a good night’s sleep. Let’s spend one evening here, and then carry on.”

“Fine, but keep yourself to yourself and don’t speak to anybody,” said Brian.

It was strange sometimes how Brian would agree to Smoglar’s fancies. I got the impression that the two of them had travelled together for years. During that time they’d managed to find a fine balance that made their partnership work.

As soon as we opened the door to the tavern I felt the glow of the fire on my face. I had expected everyone to drop their glasses and turn to stare at us when we entered, but nobody paid any attention. At one table a group of warriors played a card game. Most people sat by themselves with glasses in front of them. One man, tall and with grey whiskers sprouting from his face, read a book. Over in the corner, in a place where the light of the fire didn’t reach, a figure sat with a hood drawn over their face.

While I looked at the people around me, I realised something. Player names didn’t display here. It made sense, I guessed. Maybe that was why taverns were such a haven for criminals and bandits.

While Brian found a table and Smoglar rushed over to buy some ale, I stood next to the bar and spoke to a trader. I had come to realise that traders in Re:Fuze were easily identified by the numerous bags they wore over their shoulders. Well that, and the fact that the word ‘trader’ usually hovered above their heads.

It was strange to think that not so long ago, I had started in Blundow with nothing but a cloth shirt and some daggers. Now, my inventory bag was bulging with things that I needed to get rid of. After haggling with the merchant, I sold some of my inventory to him.

Items Sold:

Cloth Shirt

Cloth Boots

Dire boar Skin

Bear Claws

Bear Meat

Bear Pelt

Shaman Staff

Shaman Robes

The merchant offered me CR140 for the lot. After some consideration, I also decided to barter my fire-resistant gloves. My intelligence was high enough now that I rarely made mistakes when constructing bombs. They didn’t always look pretty, but at least they didn’t blow up on me.

After this, the trader wanted to offer CR165. Using Animal Whisperer, my levelled-up version of Snake Tongue, I was able to drive the price to CR255. Not too shabby.

Animal Whisperer skill increased by 20% (75% to level 3)

While the din of the tavern rose around me, I accessed my character screen. There was a section with a CR icon. Selecting that, I was able to enter my parents’ bank account details and transfer some CR across to them. I decided on sending 200, and keeping 55 for myself to use in-game.

Quest Updated: Pay off Your Parents’ Mortgage

You’ve paid CR200 out of CR50000 toward your parents’ mortgage. It’s a drop in the ocean, but it’s a start.

Joining my friends at their table, I saw that Smoglar had already drained one full glass of ale and was halfway down the second. His eyes had already taken a faraway look, and his cheeks blushed red. Brian nursed a pint of his own, sipping at the beer from time to time and then wiping moisture off his moustache.

“You were gone a while,” said Smoglar. He drained most of his second glass dry and then burped.

“I was sending some CR back home.”

“Home? Where?” said Smoglar.

“To my parents.”

On hearing this, Smoglar turned away.

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked, looking at Brian.

The giant crossed his legs, knocking the side of the table in the process. The beer glasses rattled on the surface. Smoglar scooped his own glass up as if he was rescuing a kitten from a fire.

“We don’t talk about the outside world here,” said Brian. “When you’re in Re:Fuze, you’re in. Whatever you’ve got outside can wait.”

“So you just forget who you are while you’re here?”

“This might surprise you, but I’m not really a giant in the real world, Janus. I’m a nobody. When I’m here, I’m something else.”

“But your name is really Brian, isn’t it? Nobody would choose that in a fantasy game unless it was their real name.”

The giant shook his head. “I’ve just always wanted to be called Brian, that’s all.”

I glanced at the tables around me. The warriors near the door had wrapped up their game of cards and had moved onto something more dangerous. One of them placed his hand down on the surface of the table, while another drew a dagger.

“Let’s see how much agility I’ve lost by drinking,” he said.

Going slowly at first, he started stabbing the knife in the wood between the other warrior’s fingers. As his confidence grew he sped up until finally, his hands moved so fast that I struggled to keep track. One of his friends called out to him from across the bar.

“Need another beer, Lleric?” he shouted.

The man with the knife looked up for just a split second, but that was all it took. The warrior who was sat down cried out as the knife slid through his index finger and blood sprayed out onto the table.

“Stop messing around, you lot,” called the tavern owner.

The other tables were much quieter. The old man still read his book, focusing intently on the words as if he didn’t hear the noise around him. Over in the corner the hooded figure still sat at a table.

Something about them unnerved me. I focussed on them and tried to use Appraiser of Everything. I went slowly at first, remembering what Smoglar had told me. If I wasn’t careful about it, people would sense what I was doing. I hoped that with the intelligence boost my new armour gave me, I would be okay.

As I focused on their shadowy outline, stats began to form. Before they could complete, someone shoved into my shoulder. I turned to see that the warriors were all stood up now. The one with the cut finger held his hand up as blood dripped down onto his wrist.

“You did that on purpose, Lleric,” he said, his words slurred.

His friend put his hands in the air in a placating gesture. “We were playing a game. Calm down, will you? Have a healing potion and you’ll be fine.”

The injured warrior drew his sword with his good hand. He was so drunk that he almost lost his balance.

“I’ll show you fine,” he said.

As the warriors began pushing and shoving each other, the tavern owner ran over. He stupidly tried to put himself between the fighting men, and all he got for his efforts was a push to the floor. I watched as the warriors barged through the tavern door and took their argument outside.

When I turned around, I saw that Brian and Smoglar were engrossed in the fight. The old man hadn’t stirred from the pages of his book. Over in the corner, where the hooded figure had been, the table was empty.

I drained my drink and then looked at Brian. “That’s enough excitement for me,” I said. Suddenly, I wasn’t feeling well. “I’m going to get some rest. Did you pay for our rooms?”

Brian nodded. “The door locks are enchanted, so make sure you use yours. No sense getting robbed in the night.”

I pushed my chair out and stood up. As I did, a message flashed on my screen.

10HP lost

Total: 115 / 125

What was going on? I felt like I’d been punched, but nobody had touched me. A cramping pain shot through my stomach, and for a few seconds, I felt like I had fire coursing through my belly.

10HP lost

Total: 105 / 125

Something was happening to me. I’d felt like this after drinking beer before, but that was usually after ten pints. I hadn’t become such a light weight that my ale tolerance had dropped to one pint and imbued me with magical premature hangovers.

I looked down at my own stomach. I lifted up my armour to show my bare skin.

“The stripper’s here,” said Smoglar, and drained another glass.

I focussed on my skin. When another cramp hit me and 10 hit points drained, I kept my concentration and used my Appraiser skill on myself.

You have been poisoned. Penalty: 1 HP loss per minute.

Appraiser of Everything skill increased by 25% (50% to level 3)

I looked down at my glass. Most of it was empty, but there were still some dregs in the bottom. Staring at the liquid closely, I saw that the colour was wrong. It was only a slight discolouration, and I wouldn’t have noticed had I not been looking for it.

My vision started to blur. Colours faded and transformed, and images warped. I looked on as the faces around me stretched out into impossible shapes. The voices that reached me were deep and drawn-out, like a tape played in slow motion. I glanced at the people around me. My pulse started racing as I looked not at the tavern owner or the man with the book, but at the face of my father. Then I saw my brother, Thomas.

I shook my head. It was the poison.

A sudden darkness dropped over the tavern, and everything around me was silent. I felt cold, though there was no obvious draft. It felt like I was in a void. Then a voice spoke to me.

“You will learn your ability in the door-less room.”

And then the tavern returned. The tavern owner stood at the door and watched the warriors outside, and the old man turned a page of his book. I took a deep breath and sat down. Brian and Smoglar stared at me.

Quest received! – Find out your poisoner

Someone has poisoned you in the Sick Boar tavern. Who was it, and why? Find out who wishes you dead. Yeah, I know it’s a long list, but just do it.

Rewards:

- You get to live

- Exp 150

Brian had already noticed that I wasn’t looking too perky, but he was surprised when I told him what happened. Smoglar listened to us talk, but his eyes were unfocused. Right now, a drunken dwarf was the last thing I needed.

“It was the person with the hood over their face,” I said. “I’m sure of it.”

“The one in the corner?” said Brian.

“They left when the warriors started making all the noise. They must have slipped something in my drink.”

“Let’s get you some fresh air,” said Brian. “The dwarf could use some too.”

As we left the tavern, I was glad of the chilly wind. My skin felt as if it was burning. My throat was dry, but I didn’t want something to drink.

10HP lost

Total: 85/ 125

At this rate, it wasn’t going to be long until my health bar drained completely. I took a health potion out of my bag and uncorked it.

“That’s a quick fix,” said Brian, “But it won’t cure you. You need an antidote.”

“Give me a second,” I said.

I walked back into the tavern and went to the bar, where the travelling trader stood with a wine glass in his hand.

“Do you have any poison antidotes?” I asked.

He looked me up and down, and with a true merchant’s glint in his eye, he spoke. “I do, but it’s going to cost you CR50.”

That was nearly all I had on me, but I didn’t have much of a choice. For a second I wondered if the merchant had poisoned me just so he could sell me an antidote, but it seemed like a lot of work for CR50.

I grabbed the vial from him and opened it. The liquid inside was black and had brown specks floating in it. It smelled of fire and rot.

Message from viewer: ‘Don’t worry, it’s an antidote.’

I drank the antidote down and waited. For a few seconds nothing happened, and then I received a message.

Antidote failed.

10HP lost

Total: 75/ 125

I didn’t have time for this. I turned to face the rest of the tavern and raised my voice.

“Are there any healers here?” I asked.

Most people ignored me. One of the warriors, the only man who hadn’t gone outside to fight, shook his head. The old man with the book looked at me. He closed his book, stood up, and with deliberate movements he walked across the bar.

When he stood in front of me I realised he was even taller than he’d looked. He smelled of nutmeg and cinnamon. I saw that the pockets of his robe were filled with herbs and mushrooms.

“What’s wrong?” he said. His voice was rough.

“Someone’s poisoned me. I tried an antidote, but it didn’t work.”

The healer put his hand on my face and spread his fingers wide. Up close, his hand smelled strongly of spices. He closed his hand and breathed in, then held the air in his lungs for a minute. After a while, I started to feel stupid, and I thought about moving away.

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved his hand away from my face.

“You’ve got a curse,” he said. “It’s a type of poison, but only the caster can remove it. Potions aren’t going to be much good to you.”

The tavern owner leaned over the counter and spoke to me. “I saw someone studying a poison scroll,” he said. “I didn’t think much of it at first. People read their scrolls here all the time.”

“Who was it?” I asked.

“I don’t ask names. I just serve drinks.”

I sighed. Whoever this person was, I needed to find them, but right now I was out of leads.

“If it helps you at all, I saw them walking east when they left here. Probably headed to Smuggler’s Mound. That’s where all the cheapskates go when they don’t want to pay for a bed.”

Chapter Ten

We walked away from the tavern and into a forest close by. The trees there were thin and their branches were crooked, and pinecones littered the floor. Every so often we came across the skins of dead foxes and grubrats. Their bodies had evaporated, which meant that they had been killed some time ago.

The poison drained HP points from me as we travelled, and every so often I ate a mushroom to keep my bar steady. It wasn’t a long-term solution, but I had healing potions with me too. When the shrooms ran out, I’d use those. I didn’t want to use a potion unless I really had to.

We came to a mound that rose up in the middle of the forest. No trees grew around it. There was nothing to mark it as unusual at first glance. Looking closer, I saw that there was a hole dug into the side and reinforced with wood.

“Looks like we’ve found Smuggler’s Mound,” said Smoglar.

Centuries ago, the land was a republic ruled by King Erezbite. The king outlawed the sale of alcohol, angering the majority of his subjects. Those found consuming ale were punished by a year in the cells, and for those brewing it the punishment was much worse.

Deprived of their favourite pastime, some citizens took to brewing and selling their own ales. To avoid detection, they dug hideaways into mounds spread across the land. It is said that those with Chaos points will find luck and fortune in Smuggler’s mounds. For those on the Guardian path the mounds are nothing but grubby holes.

The forest had been dark enough, but inside, the mound was so dim that I could hardly see my friends. Brian had to duck down so that he didn’t hit his head on the low roof. Although he didn’t complain, I knew that in his mind he’d be muttering about how the world was so inaccessible for giants.

The mound wasn’t large, and it wasn’t long until we left the narrow opening and stepped into an oval-shaped cave. When we reached it, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

There, lying on the floor with dead creatures around her, was a mage I knew all too well. I looked at the player tag above her head.

Reebus – Mage – Level 11

Anger filled my chest. I thought about everything the mage had done to me in Blundow. When I was just a newbie and I was trying to level up, the mage had stalked me through the woods and stolen my kills. Later, I had helped her defeat a Goblin King on the understanding that we’d share the loot. Instead, the mage took it all and then ran away.

I had been too trusting back then. In my own naïve way I thought that the newbie village would be a place where people helped each other. After all, we all started as level 0 players, and we needed all the assistance we could get. I hadn’t counted on the fact that some people were treacherous no matter their level. Well, I wouldn’t make the same mistake this time.

Reebus was on the ground. Her robe was stained with blood, and the not-yet-evaporated corpses around her were signs of a battle not long finished.

“Thank God,” said Reebus, looking at us. Then it seemed to dawn on her who I was, and the grateful look on her face vanished. “Janus. You look different. Your face, it’s…darker somehow. Twisted.”

Brian whispered in my ear. “It’s the Chaos points we picked up in Dry Gulch.”

“Pleased to see me?” I said, glaring at the mage.

“Okay, look,” she said. “I know you’re annoyed with me, Janus. But now’s not the time. Look at my health bar. I’m one blow away from dying, and I used my last potion fighting Cave Trolls.”

“Why would I care about that?”

She struggled to sit up. When she looked at me, I saw that scratches covered her face. “Help me, and I’ll help you.”

“You don’t look like you’re in a position to offer much help, lass,” said Smoglar.

Brian stepped forward. He scraped his head on the roof, and flecks of mud fell to the floor. “I remember you. You were in Blundow the same time as us, weren’t you?”

I fought back the fury that was rising inside me. I needed to keep a clear head, but it was hard. I wasn’t a hateful person, but this mage brought out the worst in me.

“You poisoned me, didn’t you?” I said.

She gulped, and then nodded. When she spoke, her voice wavered a little. “When I saw you in the tavern, I thought you’d come to find me. So I cursed a vial of mana potion and put it in your drink while you weren’t looking. It was just self-defence.”

“Screw that,” I said. “I know that everything you do is in your own self-interests, but you’ve always been the aggressor, you cow. Remove the poison.”

“Heal me, and I’ll give you the CR for an antidote,” she said.

She was trying to trick me again. She’d done that twice already. I was never going to pretend to be the smartest person in the world, but I wouldn’t fall for something a third time.

“Nice try, but it can only be removed by the caster. Potions won’t do a thing. You know that as well as I do.”

“I’ve been through a lot, Janus,” said Reebus. “More than you could ever know.”

“I don’t care. Remove the poison.”

“Promise that you’ll heal me.”

I knew that promises didn’t mean a thing to Reebus, so I felt no obligation to give my own any more thought. “Remove the poison, and I’ll think about it.”

Reebus shut her eyes. A yellow glow grew above her head and illuminated the muddy walls of the mound. It cast a flicker over Smoglar and Brian’s faces, and I saw that they looked at the mage with a mixture of curiosity and contempt.

The glow became a cloud. Then, with a flick of her hand, she sent it over to me. I felt it wash over me and warm my skin. The cramps in my stomach lessened and my head cleared, until finally, I felt fine.

Poison removed.

“It’s done,” she said. “Now heal me.”

Brian and Smoglar looked at me and waited for me to act. When I stared at the mage, all her treachery filled my thoughts and flooded my veins with anger. She was a symbol of everything I had hated about myself; a walking embodiment of my earlier stupidity and weakness.

I wasn’t that person anymore. I wouldn’t allow myself to be; I had too much to accomplish. I knew that no matter how much I helped her, she’d turn on me again and again.

I walked over to the mage. She looked up at me and smiled, but I knew that it was false.

“A health potion should do it,” she said.

I reached into my inventory. My vials of health potion clinked as I sorted through my bag but instead of grabbing them, I took out my dagger. Reebus opened her mouth wide in shock, and I heard Brian say something behind me, but I was too angry to recognise the words.

I could have healed her. Even if not, I could have just walked away. The problem was that I knew that no matter where I went, Reebus would somehow end up following me. Words didn’t mean a thing in her mind, and the idea of trust was wasted on her. If I left her now, I knew that I’d go to sleep one night and never wake up. She’d either sneak into my room and kill me herself, or she’d pay someone to do it.

I had to end this. I didn’t want to do it, but I had no choice. She had brought this on herself, and she’d brought it on me, too. She’d changed me. She’d forced me into this.

Without giving her chance to speak, I gripped my dagger and plunged it into Reebus’ heart. She screamed as the blade pierced her robes and split into her flesh, and the last inch of her health bar drained. She made a choking sound and then fell back. I pulled my blade out and saw her blood spread across the metal.

Chaos point gained (Total: 32)

Reebus’ body started to flicker. Her arms and legs faded and turned to mist, and a red flash filled my vision as she evaporated into the air. Brian and Smoglar spoke behind me, but I didn’t listen. I focussed on the new message on my screen.

Message from viewer: ‘Good for you. She deserved it.’

She did deserve it; that was the truth. I knew that I couldn’t have helped her because it would have taken just minutes for her to double-cross me again. Re:Fuze was a place that didn’t forgive mistakes, and I couldn’t afford to make any more of them.

Quest Completed: Find out Who Poisoned You

Reward: 150 EXP

Quest Completed: Get Revenge on Reebus

With two quests completed I felt the pressure on me lift somewhat, but I didn’t feel satisfied. Instead, I just felt cold.

“You’re going down a dark road, Janus,” said Brian.

“She deserved it.”

“What people deserve and what you should do about it are two different things.”

Smoglar walked over to me and patted me on the back. “Forget that. You’re becoming my kind of person, tinker.”

Badge Gained: Player Killer

You’ve killed a fellow human. Congratulations!

I walked over to the spot where Reebus had died. Her body was gone now, and only a bloodstain in the mud and her scattered loot gave any sign that she’d ever been there. I kneeled down on the ground and looked through the items she had left behind.

Items Received:

Scroll of Bless

Scroll of Fireball

It felt callous to sort through her things minutes after I had killed her, but nobody survived in Re:Fuze by being polite. I could sense that Brian was disappointed in me, but that didn’t matter. If I didn’t grow stronger I would never destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting or kill Herelius. Strength didn’t just mean how many attack points you had. There was another kind of strength; one of the mind. One which allowed you to do the things that weaker players couldn’t.

“Let’s go,” I said.

As I stood up, something on the ground caught my eye. I had missed it when I first looked through Reebus’ loot because it was covered in mud. Picking it up, I saw that it was a scrap of paper. In the corner of it, someone had addressed it to Reebus.

“What does it say?” said Smoglar.

I wiped the mud off the paper and read the words.

“Quest received,” I read. “Kill Janus the Tinker. Reward: Entry to the Serpent guild.”

Chapter Eleven

We left Smuggler’s Mound and set our sights on the town of Iskarg. Brian said we would find information on the Greyes’ homeland in the Grand Library there. With the forest behind us, we followed a cobbled path that was laid over a grass plain. The stones were weathered and didn’t look like they’d been tended to in years. To our left was a giant knoll that swept up into a curve so that it looked like a grassy tidal wave.

None of us spoke for a while, and I occupied myself by checking my stats. I was just 25 Exp away from level 13 now, a milestone which, back in Blundow, I didn’t think I’d hit. My Chaos points had risen to 32, which put me closer to the reputation status of ‘Nasty Git’ than I wanted to be. With just 3 Guardian points acting as a counter-balance, it would have looked to some people like I wasn’t such a good guy.

Since killing Reebus, my number of viewers had increased from 1 to 4. It seemed that word of the mages’ murder had spread, and 3 more people had tuned into my feed. The sad fact of the world, I realised, was that people wanted to see blood.

“I’m sorry, Janus,” said Brian, who left a gap between us as we walked, “but I have to say this. I don’t like what you did back there.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” I said.

“There’s always a choice. The only thing that matters is that you make the one that feels right. That wasn’t you, Janus. You’re not a murderer.”

Smoglar grunted. “Anyone’s a murderer given the right circumstances, aren’t they, Brian?”

He gave his giant friend a knowing look, and Brian glanced down at the ground.

Somewhere beyond us was the sound of rushing water. It must have been a waterfall, but I couldn’t see it. The daylight started to dim, and the sun faded beyond the cresting hills.

“Hold up,” said Smoglar, pausing. “We’re not alone.”

In the distance, there was a shape. I equipped a screw bomb in one hand and a dagger in the other. Likewise, Brian held a dagger of his own, and Smoglar cradled his axe. We walked cautiously across the plains until the figure came into view.

It was a man spread out on the grass. He wore a purple robe with red stitching running through it. A brown leather bag was beside him, but the way it crumpled showed that it was almost empty.

“I’ve heard of this trick before,” I said. “Someone lies on the floor and pretends to be injured. When you get closer, you find that it’s an ambush, and suddenly you have arrows flying at your arse.”

We held back a while. Brian hummed his tune while we waited. I had heard it so many times now that I could have repeated it if I chose to.

“Next shop we see, I’m buying you a book of songs,” I said.

“Please, no,” said Smoglar. “Spare us.”

An hour later the man ahead of us still hadn’t moved, and there was no ambush in sight. I guessed that an ambush would never be in sight, really. That was the whole point of an ambush. But the man was obviously injured, and I was aware that if anyone saw us, it would look like we were just watching a helpless man die. I really didn’t need more Chaos points.

When we approached him, I saw that the man looked much worse than I’d thought. His skin was greyer than the blade of an old axe, and red veins stuck out in his cheeks. Blood was smeared over his chin, and a green mist rose around him.

“Hold on,” I said, lifting my hand in the air to stop my friends. “Give me a second.”

We needed to be careful about this. I looked at the man and used my Appraiser skill on him, studying every contour of his body until his stats displayed.

Feidan Graves – Healer Level 22

Guild: None

HP: 15 / 326

*Plagued*

Appraiser of Everything increased by 25% (25% to next level)

He was in a bad way, and judging by the foul-smelling mist hovering over him, he wasn’t going to last long. He looked at me and opened his mouth, but nothing came out but raspy breaths.

I took a healing potion out of my bag and opened the vial. A sweet smell filled the air, and when I lifted it to Feidan’s lips the aroma alone seemed to perk him up. I tipped the liquid into his mouth, and his health bar recovered. He didn’t look great, but with an effort he was able to sit up.

Smoglar looked around as if he still expected an ambush to come and for raiders to stand up in the grass and rush toward us. Nothing moved save for the grass stalks that swayed in the breeze.

“Taking a nap?” he said, looking at Feidan.

The healer wiped the blood away from his chin. “Thank you,” he said, nodding at me.

“What happened?”

“A plague rat bit me. I was a few miles from here, in Margar Dungeon.”

“What were you doing there?” asked Brian.

“My pal, Lennux, and I were clearing it out. Apparently, there’s something in there that has a forty percent chance of dropping rare loot. Things were going well, when we heard something. It sounded like running water at first, but then I looked at the tunnel behind me and I saw rats running at us.

“We weren’t worried, though. I’m handy with a spear, and Lennux could cut through steel with his broadsword. But then one of the rats bit me and gave me the plague.”

Smoglar settled down on the grass. “So where’s your buddy now?” he said.

Feidan coughed, and his health dropped a fraction. At this rate, we were going to have to keep him topped up with potions or he’d die.

“High-tailed it back to Iskarg,” he said, with a bitter look on his face. “Took my healing potions and CR and then left me to die.”

I studied his face. His eyes were blue but the whites were bloodshot. His black hair was tied back into a ponytail. He had a look of intelligence about him.

“You’re a healer, aren’t you?” I said.

He nodded.

“Well, physician, heal thyself.”

He looked at me, confused. Maybe I was wrong about the intelligence.

“What?”

“Can’t you just heal yourself?”

Brian spoke behind me. Feidan craned his neck to look up at the giant, but even the small movement seemed to cause him pain.

“There are no spells or potions for the plague,” said Brian. “You need to brew an antidote from diseased rat meat. Only problem is, none of us has the alchemy skill.”

“I have it,” said Feidan, his voice straining. “But I’m not in a position to go collect the meat. You have to help me.”

I thought about it. Iskarg wasn’t far away, but we were losing light. It was dangerous to carry the Old Serpent’s Sting with me. With every passing second, I knew the chance of us running into PKers increased. If a group of Serpents happened to come across us, the dagger could find its way back to Herelius.

Still, deep down I knew that I couldn’t just leave him. The pain he bore was marked on his face, and nobody else was likely to stumble across him before he died. Even if they did, Re:Fuze was a world so hostile that any players were more likely to kill him than help him.

“I’ll pay you,” said Feidan.

“I thought your mate stole your CR?” said Smoglar, glaring at the healer.

“I have some in the bank in Iskarg. I have other stuff, too. Weapons, armour. Things I can’t use, but they have value.”

“What do you think, guys?” I said, looking at my friends.

Brian had a soft look in his eyes. “It’s your call, Janus. But I think we should help.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding at the healer. “Where’s the dungeon?”

Quest Received: Cure Feidan’s Plague

You have encountered a healer who doesn’t look too perky. He needs rat meat, and he needs it now. Go to Margar Dungeon and kill some diseased rats.

Reward:

175 Exp

CR500

Items [Unknown]

***

Margar Dungeon was once a dwarven mine where Rexglum Hairwie and his clan dug for diamonds. After the mine was depleted of precious minerals, Rexglum left his dungeon home and moved to Iskarg.

Angry that their leader had shunned them to join a higher society, the clan used their last diamonds to pay a Nightshade assassin to murder him. Days later, Rexglum was found dead on the marble floor of his Iskarg home, with a diamond the size of a fist lodged in his throat.

The Hairwie clan left Margar and moved east. In the dwarves' absence, rats took the dungeon as their lair and multiplied, gorging themselves on the slenderworms and grubs in the soil.

We found the dungeon not too far away from Feidan. We left him with four vials of healing potion so that his health wouldn’t drain while we were away, and then we set out to cure his plague. The dungeon entrance was cut into the lower section of a limestone cliff, and no attempt had been made to hide it. We stopped for a few minutes before entering.

“We need a plan,” I said.

Smoglar leaned on his axe. “The rats are going to be a problem. If they carry the plague, then we run the risk of catching it if we take a bite on the rump.”

“That’s where Brian and I come in,” I said. “A few screw bombs should be enough to take them out in groups. As long as we get a little warning before they attack, we’ll be ready.”

Smoglar nodded. “Rats often warn you before they come for you. They’re such gentlemen.”

Brian crossed his arms. “As long as you don’t jabber on while we’re inside, we’ll be able to hear them. Just be careful. With diseased creatures, there’s usually quite a low chance you’ll catch what they’re carrying. Typically, it’s 1 in 50.”

“Those odds aren’t bad.”

“They’re not, but there’s no telling if the bite that infects you will be the fiftieth or the first. Just watch yourself.”

The dungeon smelled of damp and mud. The roof and walls still showed hints of the old dwarven structure, with stone pillars holding up parts of the ceiling. Lanterns were fastened to the walls, but most had burnt out long ago.

As we walked through earthy-smelling tunnels, I heard my footsteps echo around me. Try as he might, Brian wasn’t able to hide the thunderous booms of his own boots, and I knew that before long the rats would hear us.

Sure enough, it was only minutes before we heard the telling scuttles of tiny feet, and a group of grey rats poked their noses around the corner. I held a screw bomb, lit the fuse and tossed it. As the bomb exploded, the rats squealed in agony.

5 Exp Gained (20 exp until level 13)

5 Exp Gained (15 exp until level 13)

5 Exp Gained (10 exp until level 13)

5 Exp Gained (5 exp until level 13)

As good as it was to approach my next level, the bomb had unforeseen consequences. The blast had taken out the rats, but it also carved a chunk out of the mine wall. The dungeon structure shook, and mud fell down and pattered on the floor. This wasn’t good.

“I thought dwarves were supposed to be good at building mines?” I said.

Smoglar glared at me. “I thought Tinkers could aim their bombs straight? This place hasn’t seen a dwarf in decades, you git, so it’s ready to fall apart.”

Brian put his fingers to his chin. “We better hold off on the bombs for now, Janus. The last thing we need is a cave in.”

“I’m not dying under a pile of mud,” said Smoglar. “That’d be embarrassing.”

I pulled my dagger out of my inventory and equipped it. Without my bombs I didn’t feel as tough, and I knew that I’d have to get better at my Knife Play skill. I was never going to be a strong fighter, but Knife Play increased my chances of a critical hit. That could be the difference in a melee fight.

Before we went on, I opened my character screen and inspected my core stats.

Unallocated points: 4

Strength: 2

Agility:3

Intelligence: 20

Endurance: 3

Charisma: 13

My stats were a little lop-sided, but I was planning a build that maximised the advantages of my Tinker class. That said, I was going to have to even it out a little if I had to use my dagger. I knew that agility made my attacks quicker, but it also had the effect of improving the likelihood of a critical hit. I loaded 2 points into that stat.

Next, I needed to be sure I wouldn’t fall down in a heap the minute a rat bit my arse. Endurance would increase my HP, but it would also give me an improved resistance against damage. Hopefully that would extend to guarding me against poisons and plagues. I knew that loading my remaining 2 points into endurance wouldn’t make me a colossus, but everything helped.

Agility increased to 5

-Attack speed increased to 4

-Critical chance increased to 23% [Knife Play modifier]

Endurance increased to 5

- Hit points increased to 152

- Plague resistance increased to 2.7%

- Poison resistance increased to 4.6%

With that done, I inspected the loot left behind once the rats’ bodies had evaporated. Their gristly meat and skin remained on the floor after their spirits had departed, but none of it was diseased.

Items Received:

Rat Meat x4

Rat Skin x4

“We’ll have to keep going until we find plague rats,” said Brian.

We had to be careful. Smoglar’s attacks would do more damage than ours, and he was guaranteed to kill at least a couple of rats in one hit. The problem was that where he excelled in strength, he lacked speed. One bite was potentially all it would take to give us the plague, so we needed to dispatch them quickly.

That was how I found myself at the front of the pack. The passageway was too cramped for us to go side by side, so Brian walked behind me with his hatchet in his hand. Smoglar trailed last, muttering to himself about his relegation to the back of the pack.

We followed the dungeon through twists and turns. The deeper we got the colder it became, and a foul smell rose in the air. At points, it became so thick that we could hardly breathe. The plague rats were close.

As the trail led us further into the dungeon we encountered a few groups of vermin. Brian and I used our one-handed weapons to dispatch them. In one particularly focussed slash of my dagger, a luminous light filled the tunnel, and the rat in front of me was torn apart by my blade.

Knife Play skill increased by 20%! (60% until level 2)

The tunnels seemed to run on for so long that I began to get the impression we were in a maze. I knew that to get out, we could just retrace our steps. All the same, it seemed like we were being led further into a pit of darkness.

Finally I felt a draft on my face and I saw a weak light glowing ahead of me. Walking forward, I realised that the tunnel opened up into a cavernous room. We followed it until we reached the heart of the dungeon.

It was as big the dining hall of Ambergrim fortress. Stone had been laid out on the floor, and flags of it were stained with dried blood and rotting carcases. The walls were made of marble, and although the polish had long-since faded, I could still see the carvings of old dwarven symbols. The most impressive sight was at the far end of the square-shaped room. An entire section of the wall had been carved away, and in its place was a twenty-foot tall sculpture of a dragon. Its eyes were stern and they seemed to stare at me so intensely that for a second, I thought it might break out of its stone casing.

“This is what I’m talking about,” said Smoglar, walking into the centre of the room. He spread his arms out wide as if to display the intricate carvings in all their glory. “This is what dwarves used to do. Can you think of any man who could do this? Or any giant?”

“Come on,” said Brian. “You know we don’t talk about race.”

We followed Smoglar into the centre of the room. This was the end, it seemed. The passageway we had followed had taken many twists, but it hadn’t given us any other paths to choose or any ways to change direction.

I walked away from the centre and to the edge of the stone floor. A moat surrounded the flooring. It was ten feet wide, and a green mist rose off it.

“I think we’ve found the source of the plague,” I said.

Brian looked at me. “What’s that?”

“There’s a moat running alongside here. I’m no expert, but I don’t think water should be green and stink to high heaven. The rats must have been drinking from it.”

I opened a healing potion. My HP bar was almost full, so I wasn’t in dire need of it, but I drank it back all the same. Once the bottle was empty, I carefully lowered it into the green water and scooped some of it up. The liquid swished in the bottom of the vial. As I screwed the cork back on, I held my head away from it so that I didn’t breathe it in.

“We don’t need the rat meat anymore,” I said. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be that simple,” said Smoglar, his voice higher-pitched than usual.

When I turned around I saw what he meant, and I was so surprised that I almost dropped the vial of plague water.

Something had joined us in the entrance of the room. At first, I couldn’t see it clearly. I made out only its vague form, and it seemed to be shaped by mist. The figure stepped forward, and as it did, I saw it clearly.

It was a creature taller than Brian. Its skin was scaled and had small spikes protruding from it. Its head was almost a triangle shape, and two curved horns stuck out from its scalp. It opened its mouth and roared at us, sending a gush of rotten-smelling wind in our direction. I focussed on it and appraised its stats.

Pit Demon – Level 45

HP: 2390 / 2390

Strengths: ???

Weaknesses: ???

“Close your mouth and get ready,” shouted Smoglar.

The demon stepped forward. The ceiling seemed to shake when it moved, and flecks of dust fell down. This was no place to use bombs, but we needed a plan. From the way the monster stared at us I guessed that it didn’t want to have a chat. We needed a course of action, and we needed it quickly.

“Smoglar, you’re the tank again,” I said.

“Tank? Next to that thing, I’m a grubrat.”

“All the same, what else are we going to do? We can’t use bombs because the whole place is one badly-aimed explosion away from burying us. This is the only chance we have, and we just have to take it.”

Brian nodded. He had rarely looked worried on our travels, so I didn’t like the look of fear that had spread on the giant’s face.

“Take as much damage as you can,” I said. “Brian and I will keep you topped up with potions, and in between, I’ll try and get a few critical strikes with my dagger.”

The demon stared at us with curiosity, looking at us as if we were just morsels. I wondered if it understood what we were saying. As if in answer, the demon snorted. It spread its arms out wide and I saw thick muscles bulging against its skin. It opened its hands to reveal claws bigger than Brian’s head.

“Good luck,” I said. I put the plague water in my bag. In one hand I gripped my dagger, and in the other, I held a vial of healing potion.

We turned to face the demon. As he approached us, I saw that the skin on his chest was cracked. Pale faces peered out from in between the fissures. They seemed to be made of flesh, but their expressions were set in looks of anguish, as though they were souls that had frozen in torment.

Smoglar gripped his axe in his hand. The dwarf might have been foolhardy at times, but I had to give it to him. Faced with a creature much taller than he was and a hell of a lot stronger, he barely showed any fear. He rushed at the demon and lifted his axe in the air.

As he struck it, a flash of red light enveloped him. His axe hit the cracks in the monster’s skin, and the demon reared back. It let out a roar that was louder than the explosion of even the biggest bomb I was capable of making, and I felt my ears ring long after it stopped.

Smoglar had scored a critical hit, but as I looked at the demon’s health bar I saw that it had moved hardly an inch. This was going to be a long, grinding battle, and that was if we were lucky. We didn’t have a great deal of potions between us, and I hoped our meagre supply would hold out. The thought of leaving the dungeon crossed my mind, but the monster blocked our way.

As Smoglar dealt damage to the creature and took some of his own in return, I heard a sound. This wasn’t the snort of the monster or the crack of Smoglar’s axe, but something else. Soon, I got the sickening realisation that it was the stampede of dozens of tiny feet.

Rats poured out through the entrance of the tunnel and joined us in the cave. For a fleeting second I thought they might help us, but the snarls they made confirmed that I was wrong.

The rats plainly didn’t want to help us, but I realised that they might not have a choice. I had upgraded my Snake Tongue to level 2, and there it had changed to something else; Animal Whisperer.

How does one whisper to animals, anyway? Did that mean I had to squeal like a rat? Somehow, that didn’t appeal to me. Instead, I stared at the rats. As they bared their teeth and scurried toward us, I imagined myself delving into their minds and tweaking their synapses. The dungeon around me started to fade and I felt myself focus deeper and deeper. I became aware of a low murmur around me and I realised that I was hearing the rats’ thoughts. Tugging on the strings of their minds, I tried to transform them into allies.

Animal Whisper failed.

There were too many of them. I needed to hone my skill by increasing my intelligence. I guessed that until then, manipulating a group of creatures was beyond me. It might have worked if I could focus on one rat at once, but I didn’t have time.

The demon swiped at Smoglar with a giant claw and caught him on the chest. The dwarf grunted as the wind was knocked out of him. His armour held firm and stopped the claw tearing him apart, but he fell to the ground, and his HP drained until it almost ran empty.

Sensing our weakness, the rats moved in closer. To have any chance of killing the demon then we had to fight it alone; if we had to contend with the rats at the same time, we had no hope.

Brian took a healing potion out of his bag and tossed it to Smoglar. The dwarf was dazed, but with shaking hands, he managed to unscrew the vial and tip it into his mouth.

The demon moved forward. Each time it took a step the whole room seemed to vibrate. For a second I thought about lighting a bomb and just burying us all. If we were to die here, then at least we’d take the beast with us.

I took a breath. I wasn’t thinking like someone with 20 intelligence points, I was thinking like someone with…fewer intelligence points. I reached into my inventory and took out my gunpowder. I quickly ran around the room and spread it in a circle. As the rats moved in closer I lit it, and the powder caught fire and made a wall of flames around us, keeping the rats at bay.

The demon puffed its chest out. It looked like it was going to attack with its claws again. Instead, it took a breath so big that it seemed like it was drawing all the air out of the room. Then, focussing on Brian and Smoglar, it roared. Its foul breath came out with such force that it swept my friends onto the floor, draining most of their HP. Brian struggled to get up, but try as he might, he was stuck. Whatever attack that was, it had held them in place.

That left the demon and me; a Tinker with bombs he couldn’t use and a dagger good for only killing rats. I knew that if I focussed hard enough I could use Knife Play and score a critical hit, but that wouldn’t finish off a creature like this.

The dagger. That was my only chance, I realised, but not the dagger in my hand. In my belt was the Old Serpent’s sting, and I knew that it had a damage of 500. Using it would drain my HP, but I didn’t have a choice.

I equipped the dagger and gripped it in my palm. It felt strange to hold, as though it didn’t want me to wield it. Gripping it tighter, I focused on the demon. I tuned everything else out so that I could no longer hear the crackling flames or the squeals of the rats. I stared with concentration at the cracks in the demon’s skin, and at the faces trapped inside it.

Holding my breath and praying that it worked, I ran at the monster. Red light seemed to gather above me, and I felt a charge run through my hand and into the dagger. Just as the demon lifted its arm to swat me away, I stabbed my blade deep into its waist, making sure it went through the cracks in its skin.

For a second, nothing happened. Time seemed to slow around me, as if in the moments before my impending death, the universe had decided to grant me time to enjoy my fate. I expected the demon to push me away and then finish me with a claw.

That didn’t happen.

The demon roared, but this time it was different. It came out higher pitched, more like a scream than a grunt of aggression. The cracks in its skin glowed red and began to widen, and I watched as the faces trapped inside drifted out toward the ceiling.

As the demon fell to the floor, the ceiling shook and patches of mud and stone rained down. I took my last healing potion out of my bag and ran over to my friends. When they had finished drinking, we caught our breath and watched as the demon evaporated and left us alone in the dungeon.

Level Up to level 13!

Exp to next level: 194

The rats were gone, the demon was dead, we’d found the source of the plague, and I had levelled up. Things were going great, and I was sure that nothing bad would happen again, ever.

And then I remembered that I was in Re:Fuze.

You have used the Old Serpent’s Sting. Any members of the Serpent guild can now find you on the map.

Chapter Twelve

Feidan had already finished his last potion when we got back to him. His health bar started a decline that would have led to his death had we not returned. When he saw us, he grunted and sat up. Sweat covered his forehead, and there was blood on his chin and on the front of his robe from where he had been coughing.

“Did you get the meat?”

“We got more than that, you git," said Smoglar. “Didn’t tell us about the bloody pit demon did you?”

The healer jerked his head back in surprise. “Pit demon?”

“We don’t have time for this,” I said. I took the vial of plague water out of my bag. “I didn’t get any rat meat, but I got this. It’s from the moat that the rats were drinking from. It’s definitely infected.”

“Probably the pit demon pissing in it,” said Smoglar.

Brian boiled a pot of water for Feidan, and then we sat back as the healer used his alchemy skill to brew a plague antidote. The giant seemed enraptured by the process, and he couldn’t take his eyes off Feidan.

With the antidote made, and his HP bar slipping, Feidan drank it back. A few seconds later I focussed on his stats and saw that the plague was removed.

Quest Complete: Cure Feidan’s Plague

The pit demon is gone!

Reward:

175 Exp

CR500

Items [Unknown]

“Let’s have it then,” said Smoglar. “The CR and the items.”

Feidan’s face still looked pale, though his forehead was free from sweat.

“I told you, it’s in the bank in Iskarg. I’ve got a deposit box with all my CR and a few items I found that I couldn’t use.”

“How come you haven’t sold them yet?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Guess I’m a bit of a hoarder. It’s addictive, you know, seeing the yellow glow above a rare item. I don’t like to sell them.”

Smoglar nodded at Feidan in agreement. His inventory bag was bulging to the point that it looked ready to burst.

“You can travel with us to Iskarg then,” I said. “That’s where we’re headed anyway.”

Smoglar got to his feet. “And if we meet your buddy who left you, we’ll feed him some of that plague water.”

The four of us started the walk to Iskarg. The city was hidden behind the curve of a hill in the distance. Although I couldn’t see it yet, I knew it wasn’t far away. I realised that I had done more walking so far in Re:Fuze than I had my entire life.

Feidan and Brian walked at the front of the group. Brian was asking him questions about alchemy. When he was curious about something, the giant would fire question after question at you until it felt like you couldn’t keep up. I imagined that Feidan’s head must have been swimming, but he answered all the giant’s questions with good grace. He proved himself to have a deep knowledge of alchemy.

“That settles it,” said Brian, turning to face me.

“What?”

“I’m going to become an alchemist. It’ll take me CR5000 to change my class, but as soon as I have that kind of money, I’m changing.”

“As soon as we have that much CR, I’m buying a pub,” said Smoglar. “With a blacksmith shop at the back.”

“A drunken dwarf working with hot metal, just what we need,” I said.

Feidan walked with his hands in the pockets of his robe. “Don’t forget; it might take you a while to save the coin for a class change, but you can still learn the skills in preparation. Give yourself a head start. I’ll teach you.”

“I’ve heard about you alchemists,” said Smoglar. “Brewing up mercury and then selling it to assassins to put in people’s drinks. Which kind are you? The light side or the dark side?”

Feidan’s forehead screwed up as he looked at the dwarf. It seemed like he was appraising him. “A bit of both,” he said.

As we got closer to the hill I knew that my first glimpse of Iskarg wasn’t far away. Blundow was the biggest place I had seen so far, and other than that I’d only visited Dry Gulch and the trader’s hamlet. It would be good to be in a city. I guessed that if this place was like in any of the other games I’d played, that there would be guards there. The wrath of the guards would provide a deterrent against player killing, and that was the kind of protection we needed.

The first thing we had to do there was to go to the library. Smoglar could go with Feidan to get the CR from the bank while Brian and I poured over books. Once we knew the location of the Greye homeland, I’d wire some CR back to my parents and then go to find the secretive guild.

I had to smile at myself. I was thinking about it like it was nothing, but the fact was that nobody knew where the Greyes lived. I trusted Brian, and if he said the library held the key then that’s where we’d go, but it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park.

We came to a stream that ran in a spiral across the plains, trickling its way beyond the foothills and toward Iskarg. When I heard the sound of running water I felt my lips were dry with thirst, but when I saw the stream I lost my desire for a drink.

The water was discoloured and smelled of sulphur, and a mist rose off it like it had in the moat in the dungeon. I turned around and looked at where the stream went. Although it took twists and turns across the grass, it seemed to run from the general direction of the dungeon. That meant that the stream was infected. In turn, any animals that had drunk from it would also have the plague. We had to be careful.

“Iskarg might not be as welcoming as we expected,” called Smoglar.

I turned around and saw the dwarf had walked on ahead of us. Joining him, I could see beyond the hill now. From so far away I could see the bleached city walls of Iskarg, and a metal tower that rose up beyond all the other buildings. Holes were cut into the walls every so often, and water gushed out into a bank below.

The walls soared so high that I had to crane my neck to see them. They were impressive, but it was something above them that caught my attention. Moored to the parapet of the walls by four chains, was a zeppelin. It was too far away for me to make out in detail, but I saw a bulbous balloon made of a patchwork of material. Masts stuck out from the side of it, giving the impression that the zeppelin was a giant bee hovering above the city.

“I’m in love,” I said, unable to take my eyes off it.

“It’s going to be unrequited, I’m afraid,” said Brian. “Zeppelins cost more CR to buy than we’ll make for a long time.”

The structure of the city or the airship weren’t what had worried Smoglar though. I saw it straight away. The plague stream ran beyond us and then went into a pipe that led to the city. The plague-ridden stream was Iskarg’s source of drinking water.

“That’s our cue to stop and re-think,” said Smoglar.

I looked at Feidan. “If the city had been infected, surely people would know about it?”

“It depends on how long ago it happened.”

Smoglar shook his head. “No way. I’m not going near that place. We’ve just left one plague-infested hovel, and now you want to wander into another?”

“I don’t want to any more than you do,” I said. “But they might not be infected yet. They might not even know what’s in the stream. We have to go there and warn them.”

Brian took a few paces forward and put his hand to his forehead and peered into the distance. “There’s also the fact that we need access to the library. There really is no other way.”

“Are we settled then?” I said.

Feidan shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve already had the plague, so I’m immune. Fine by me.”

“Hang on,” said Smoglar. “Why don’t we just infect ourselves here and then have Mr. Healer whip up an antidote? That way we’ll have resistance when we reach town.”

Feidan and Brian looked at each other. “Do you want to take this one?” said the giant.

Feidan nodded. “There’s no guarantee an antidote will work on everyone. It’s a 5 in 7 chance each time.”

“Which means a 2 in 7 chance the plague kills us,” I said. “Not worth it. If we’re careful, we’ll be okay.”

Our walk across the plains was slower than it had been before, as if all of us were reluctant to reach Iskarg. When we finally stood before the city gates, everything was quieter than I expected. I thought there might have been guards there who would question us before permitting entry. Instead, the gates stayed down and nobody moved to open them. There wasn’t any indication that anyone was around.

Brian walked over to the gates. Gripping the iron, he grunted and then lifted it up. The screech of the metal disturbed the silence, and I saw magpies and crows fly off the city walls and into the sky.

For centuries, the brightest young scholars in the land dreamt of coming to Iskarg. Boasting the biggest library, a university with no equal, and a mage college that had produced some of the finest wizards ever known, Iskarg offered a lot to those with a keen mind.

King Lasteck, a ruler nicknamed ‘The Magpie King’ for his attraction to the treasures of others, decided that he wanted the oldest books in Iskarg Library. These were tomes whose age was beyond calculation, and a mere page of them was more valuable than most houses.

Filipian Arnock, the librarian and a romantic, believed in the preservation of knowledge with all his heart. He resisted the king; courteously at first, and then firmer when the king wouldn’t budge.

As is the case when stubborn men disagree, things spiralled until the king marched on Iskarg with his personal guard. He gave Filipian the ultimatum that he must submit the books, or die. Filipian, a fire-mage, delivered a fireball that burnt the king’s horse and scorched the ruler’s legs. The battle that followed was hard-fought and bloody, but the King’s men held out.

The grand library was ransacked of everything with value. With the ancient knowledge lost, the University of Iskarg started to wither. Librarians have stocked the library shelves once again but today, both the library and university are a shade of their former selves.

The city was eerily silent and completely devoid of movement. The only footsteps we heard were our own. The absence of noise didn’t seem to fit the town around us. Ahead of me were dozens of cobbled streets lined with stone buildings. Some had shop signs hanging off the front, while others were houses. The street was littered with discarded food that had started to rot. In front of me and to the west was a courtyard with seven wooden market stalls set up on it. Each stall still had its produce on show. One was covered in metal pocket watches and another in various leather pouches, but there were no vendors watching over them.

As we walked on, I saw that some houses had green markings painted on the doors, while others had red ones. It was clear, then, that the plague had hit Iskarg, and these were warnings of some kind. The only thing I didn’t know was what the markings meant. Green usually meant ‘Go’ or ‘Good,’ and red was a universal sign of danger. The only thing was, in Re:Fuze red was the colour of health potions, while the mist that rose from plague victims was green. The residents of Iskarg hadn’t exactly come up with a simple warning system.

Ahead of us, rising high above the roofs of the shops and houses, was the Grand Library. It was a tower that stretched seventy feet into the air, made out of interlocking metal girders that must have taken decades to assemble. That was where we needed to head.

Before we could start in the direction of the library, there was movement on the street in front of us. I saw men and women stumble out from dark corners, and some pushed themselves up from where they had been laying, unseen by us until now.

The way they moved was unnatural; they took small, jerky steps, and their whole bodies seemed to shudder with the effort. Their faces were pale and bloated, and the skin had fallen away in parts to reveal their raw insides. I doubted there would be an antidote strong enough to cure these people.

“This answers one question,” said Smoglar, gripping his axe. “Looks like they caught the plague a while ago.”

“Surely a place like Iskarg would have alchemists and antidotes?” I said.

Brian nodded. “True, but it depends on how fast it spread. They might not have had time to act.”

Feidan pointed up at the library tower. “I’d bet you all the CR in my bank that all the alchemists, mages, and healers have locked themselves away up there. Cowards.”

The residents of Iskarg had caught the plague, it seemed, and now its residents were undead. Getting to the library wouldn’t be as simple as a stroll through the streets.

The plagued folks turned in our direction when they noticed us. They had looks of anger on their faces, as though they saw that we were alive and uninfected, and in their state of death, it made them angry. I knew that we were going to have to fight our way through the streets. The longer we waited the more impossible that became. I watched as more and more of Iskarg’s undead filled the pavement and then walked towards us.

Smoglar stood in a fighting stance gripping his axe, while Brian sorted through his inventory and organised his bombs. I looked around me at the undead. Their arms hung limply at their sides, and they stepped forward on legs that had thinned from weight loss. Their clothes were ripped and dirty. The way the creatures moved was unnatural. I had to remind myself that these people were human, once. I wondered how many of Iskarg’s residents had survived, barricaded inside their homes while the rest of the population had died.

I opened my inventory and took stock. I had the materials to assemble a dozen screw bombs, but there were so many undead that even twelve wouldn’t cut it. We needed something else.

The first of the undead reached us. It was a woman. Her hair fell to her chest, though clumps of it had already fallen out. Her waist looked so thin that it could snap. She growled at Smoglar and then lashed out at him, trying to slice him open with her dirty fingernails. The dwarf swiped back at her with his axe, severing part of her arm at the bicep so that it hung off at an unnatural angle.

I opened my inventory again. Sensing that we were outnumbered by a good two hundred to one, I knew that Smoglar’s axe wasn’t going to get us through this. I opened a casing and laid a foundation of gunpowder across it, smoothing it out so that it was distributed evenly.

“Do you still have some of the antidote?” I said, looking at Feidan.

The healer shook his head. “I drank it all. I could make some more, though. I’d need something infected. Is this in case you get bitten?”

I shook my head. “Something else.”

Smoglar struck the woman again and this time he cut clean through the bone and gristle on her arm. He walked over to her, pushed her back, and then kicked the severed arm in Feidan’s direction.

“Never say I don’t lend you a hand,” said the dwarf.

The healer picked up the arm, showing no sense of revulsion whatsoever. “You’ll have to hold them off while I cook up the antidote.”

Smoglar swung his axe at any undead that got close to Feidan. Brian made and threw screw bomb after screw bomb, peppering the undead with shards of metal. The problem was that although the screws were doing damage, they were inflicting a just little bit of injury to a lot of undead, rather than wiping any of them out.

I opened a new casing. I tipped some gunpowder into this one, and then I pulled a roll of paper from my inventory. It was the Bless scroll that I had taken from Red Leroy. When I unravelled it, the paper seemed to glow slightly, and the words were written in gold, curved handwriting.

“From the skies I call down…” I began to read.

A faint yellow aura took form in front of me, growing stronger as I read down the scroll. Finally I had a ball of yellow light that I pushed down onto the bomb casing and mixed with the powder. I connected the casing and fastened it together, finishing my bless bomb.

The undead were approaching from all sides now. As much as I felt sick when I looked at their undead faces, I pitied them. It seemed that most of the population of Iskarg had drunk from the plagued water source and caught the affliction. If only we’d gotten here a few days earlier.

Next to me, steam rose from Feidan’s black cauldron, and a sour-smelling green liquid bubbled inside it. Two plagued men lurched toward Smoglar, who swiped his axe at one and caught him just below the knee cap, crippling him.

I lit the bless bomb and threw it into the largest concentration of the undead who gathered in the street that led toward the library. The bomb landed in the middle of them. One undead, a man with a beer gut and a beard that was once carefully-groomed, looked at the bomb with curiosity. If he wondered what it was, the question was soon answered when the bomb exploded and sent a wave of burning yellow light all around.

When the light hit the undead it burned the parts of their skin that it touched. I watched as health bars all around me dropped further and further, and I heard the sounds of undead hitting the floor.

Smoglar shouted behind me. I turned around to see him pushing a woman away. He shoved her back against a wall and then aimed the blade of his axe at her waist, spraying her insides on the pavement.

The dwarf turned to face me and held up his hand. I felt my pulse race when I saw bite marks gouged deep in his flesh between his thumb and index finger.

“Save a little of the antidote,” I told Feidan, who nodded.

“That’s my bloody blacksmithing hand,” said Smoglar, holding it against his chest.

Despite my bless bomb, we still had an army of undead walking toward us. Brian had run out of bomb cases and instead had taken to swinging his hatchet at anything that came his way.

Finally Feidan sat back from his cauldron. He pulled a glass vial out of his bag and scooped most of the liquid into it, saving a little in the bottom for Smoglar. He handed the vial to me.

The groans of the undead rose around me, and I knew that I needed to work quickly. I poured the antidote over the gunpowder spread on the casing in front of me. I made sure it was well-mixed, closed the casing and then lit the bomb.

“Let’s hope this works,” I said.

I threw the bomb in front of me, where it landed in the middle of a dense crowding of the plagued. We all watched as the fire fizzed down the fuse. It seemed to go agonisingly slowly, and for a second I thought the bomb might be a dud.

Then, the fire hit the casing and the bomb exploded. The sound roared to my ears, and a flash of light filled the streets of Iskarg. The smell of burned gunpowder hung in the air, and a green mist wrapped itself around the bodies of the undead.

I waited. I hope that the antidote would cure the townsfolk of their plague and that they would return to their former selves. Instead, a series of messages flooded my vision.

NPC Killed – 0 Exp gained.

NPC Killed – 0 Exp gained.

This carried on until I had seen the message so much that the words didn’t make sense anymore. I watched as the undead fell to the floor. Their skin was scorched wherever the mist from the bomb had hit them. The cries of the undead lessened and were replaced by the sounds of their bodies hitting the ground.

I breathed a sigh of relief as I saw that the streets in front of us were now empty. We had been too late to cure the townsfolk of their affliction. At least now, we had laid them to rest.

After we had all caught our breath, Smoglar was the first to speak. He held his injured hand in the air.

“How about giving me some of the antidote before I’m the one trying to bite you?”

While Smoglar drank the plague antidote, Brian, Feidan, and I made plans. We decided that Smoglar and the healer would go to the bank to collect the CR and items that he had promised us.

“CR500 split three ways,” said Smoglar. “That’s 150 each for you and Brian, 200 for me.”

“It’s not CR500 anymore,” said Feidan.

“We had an agreement,” I said.

“Healers don’t work for free,” said Feidan. “I just cooked up an antidote for you. That’s coming out of the total, for services rendered.”

Smoglar shook his head in disgust. “You’re profiting out of this? Really?”

“We don’t have time for this,” I said. “We need to get moving.”

***

While Smoglar and Feidan went to the bank, Brian and I walked to the library. With the undead corpses starting to evaporate around us, the streets became all too silent. I began to hate the sound of my own footsteps. I longed for noise, any kind of sound as long as it broke the eerie quiet.

When we reached the library, I realised that it was much bigger than I had first thought. It was a tower that stretched so high into the air that even when I craned my neck to look at it, I couldn’t see the top. It was made of metal girders that were interlocked like twine. The design was so intricate that I wondered how any man could have built it.

The base of the library was a metal cylinder. It didn’t seem to have a door, and I wondered how we would get in. When I looked at Brian, he shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve heard about the place, but I've never been here,” he said.

I walked around the circumference of the base. When I completed one lap and joined Brian back at my starting position, I still hadn’t found any sign of a door or a way of getting in.

As we thought about what to do, I heard a noise. It sounded like a faint humming, but then it grew louder. A mist began to gather in front of us, rectangular in shape. I stepped back and equipped my dagger.

Gradually, a face began to take form in the centre of the mist screen. Its outline was faint, and I could barely make out its features. It seemed to be a man. He had wrinkles covering his face, though I couldn’t decide if that was from age, or just from being projected through the smoke. He had a beard that grew down below his chin and went on so long that it still hadn’t ended when it hit the edges of the mist.

“Speak your names,” said the voice. The sound was garbled, as though we were listening to a radio that hadn’t been tuned properly. The man glared at the two of us.

“Janus the Tinker and Brian the Giant,” said my friend.

“And I assume you are the giant?”

“Did him being ten feet tall give it away?” I said. I looked at Brian but he just shrugged his shoulders, seeming as confused as I was.

“Speak your guilds,” said the voice.

“We don’t have one,” I answered.

There was silence as the man in the mist screen stared at us. Finally, he spoke.

“None who are guildless may enter the Grand Library. So it has been decreed, so shall it be.”

“We just need to come in for a few hours,” said Brian.

“None who are guildless may enter the Grand Library. So it has been decreed, so shall it be.”

After coming all this way, I wasn’t going to be stopped by some smoke. I stepped forward and went to go through the screen, in case a door had appeared behind it. As soon as I touched the mist, I felt my skin burn.

25HP lost! (Total: 127 / 152)

“It’s not going to work,” said Brian.

“Listen,” I said, looking at the man in the mist. “We really need to get in.”

“The rule has been in place for decades and cannot be broken.”

“Can’t be broken, or won’t be broken?” I asked.

The man glared at me. “Both, tinker. None who are guildless may enter the Grand Library. So it has been decreed, so shall it be.”

“Come on, buddy. We just saved your city. I’m not expecting a hero’s banquet, but how about letting us look at some books?”

With that, the screen faded, leaving me staring at the edgeless metal of the tower base. I waited a few seconds in case my words had persuaded him, but nothing happened.

***

When we met Smoglar and Feidan in the trader square near the bank, Smoglar looked unhappy.

“He’s playing us for fools,” he said, as we approached.

Feidan shook his head. “The bank is sealed. I’m guessing that whoever ran it was afflicted, or they’re hiding from the plague. At any rate, I can’t get you your CR yet.”

After everything Reebus the mage had done to me, I was becoming used to people who didn’t keep up their end of the deal.

“You better be straight with us,” I said, holding my dagger. “You made a promise.”

“How about this?” said the healer. “I’ll stay with you until I can get you the CR and the items. I won’t leave until I’ve kept my promise.”

Brian tapped his hatchet against his palm. “We have bigger problems than that,” he said.

We explained to Smoglar and Feidan what had happened at the library. We were guildless, and without entry to the library, we had no way of finding where the Greye guild lived. I was always aware of the Old Serpent’s Sting in my inventory, as though I felt it pressing on my mind. We needed to destroy it. After using it to kill the pit demon it had placed a map marker on me, so the Serpents would be able to find us. I couldn’t let the dagger find its way back to Herelius Rouge.

“We’re going to have to join a guild,” I said. “I’m not excited about the idea, but what choice do we have?”

Smoglar spat on the floor. “I’m not joining anything.”

“You don’t have to. Brian and I will join. After all, it’s only us who need to go to the library.”

“And why's that?” said Smoglar. “Because I’m a dwarf and I’m stupid?”

Brian put his hand on his friend's shoulder. “Because you get bored easily, Smoglar. And this will take hours, if not days, of research.”

My shoulders ached, so I set my inventory bag down on the ground. “What do we need to join the guilds?”

Brian shook his head. “The Halons won’t have us because after killing the NPCs in Dry Gulch, we’ve got too many Chaos points. The Mercs would let us in, but it would cost CR3000, which we’re quite short on.”

“I though they charged CR500?”  I said.

This time Smoglar answered. “That was back in the newbie village. Once you leave, the price goes up.”

“Which I’m afraid,” said Brian, “Leaves just one option; the Serpents. And as much as we didn’t want to accrue them in the first place, we actually have enough Chaos points to join them.”

I shook my head. Everything I had heard of the Serpents made me angry, and Herelius Rouge, the man I wanted to kill, was their leader.

“Not a chance in hell,” I said.

Brian nodded at me. “I know. I’d never go back to them, either. But I’m just relaying our options.”

“Then we’re stuck,” said Smoglar.

Brian nodded.

Suddenly, an idea struck me. It seemed stupid, but I knew it was all we had.

“There is one thing we could do,” I said.

The dwarf’s forehead screwed up as he looked at me. “I’m all ears and beard, Tinker.”

I looked at my group in turn. I had everyone’s undivided attention.

“If we can’t join the Halons or Mercs, and we don’t want to join the Serpents, that leaves us just one option. We create our own guild.”

Quest Received: Create a Guild

Chapter Thirteen

Smoglar was the first to react. He put his axe on the floor and then sat down next to it. He rubbed his injured hand. His skin was inflamed but he’d gotten the antidote in plenty of time, so there wasn’t any danger of him getting afflicted.

“Making a guild isn’t as simple as putting together one of your screw bombs,” he said. “There’s a reason there have only been four guilds in Re:Fuze.”

“You’re telling me nobody has ever tried creating a new one?”

“Not that I know of.”

Feidan packed his alchemist equipment into his inventory. “Actually, someone did make one, once. It was stupid, but he tried it.”

Brian scratched his head. “I’ve never heard of this. Who was it?”

“Me,” said Feidan. “I hadn’t joined a guild after leaving Blundow. At first, it didn’t bother me, but soon I got sick of PKers coming after me. I walk a fine line between good and bad, so neither the Halons nor the Serpents liked the look of me. Instead of lowering myself to joining the Mercs, I made a guild for alchemists. I called it the Mercury guild.”

“This must be before my time,” said Brian.

Feidan nodded. “Probably. This was about nine years ago.”

“You’ve been playing Re:Fuze for nine years and you’re still only level 22?” I said.

Feidan put his bag next to him. “There’s more to the game than just levelling up, Janus. There aren’t many people in the world who’ve got their alchemy skill as high as mine. I never liked the fighting part of it all. I like mixing stuff together and seeing what comes out. Kind of like you with your bombs.”

“So what happened to the Mercury guild?”

Feidan looked down at the ground. “I started getting messages from high-level Serpents telling me I had to disband. I thought they were just being asses; you know what they’re like. But then the Halons and the Mercs joined in. Before I knew it, my guild house was filled with letters telling me to disband the guild or they’d do it for me.”

“What did you do?”

“I ignored them. And nothing happened, for a while. One day, I was brewing a Morlekie potion, when I looked out of my window and saw five hundred men with Serpent banners above their heads. They marched to the guild house and smashed it to pieces, then destroyed my charterstone so that my guild was broken.”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“I swallowed a mist potion and got out before they saw me.”

“The guilds don’t like change,” said Brian. “They feel threatened by it. And making a fifth guild is a pretty big change to the status quo.”

“I’m not going to let them put me off,” I said. “This is all the more reason to start our own rather than joining theirs. There must be hundreds of guildless people out there who want to join something.”

“This won’t be easy,” said Feidan.

“I didn’t come here expecting anything to be easy. What would we need to do?”

Feidan stood up and started to pace. Around us, doors started to open and the surviving townsfolk walked out. The doors they left had been marked red.

“First, you need a charterstone,” said the healer. “Next, you have to build a guild house. Lastly, you need money for upkeep.”

Smoglar grinned. “This will be easy, then. We’re skint, and we couldn’t build a shed between us, let alone a guild house.”

I rubbed my forehead. This was going to be tough, but I wouldn’t let it put me off. I didn’t care that by making a new guild we’d be disturbing the balance of Re:Fuze. With the way the world was, things clearly needed disturbing. Besides, I was starting to like the sound of my own idea more and more. I pictured our guild as one that welcomed the people shunned by the Halons, Serpents and Mercs. A guild for the misfits who couldn’t find a home anywhere else.

“First things first, then. What’s a charterstone?”

“On its own,” said Feidan. “A charterstone is just a slab of marble. The problem is, it needs to be enchanted. There used to be a guy up in God’s Keep who would do it for CR50000, but he died fighting a swarm of Toctalayons.”

“So who can do it?”

“Guild enchantment is a level 90 perk, so you have to be pretty high-level to get it. People rarely bother. The thing is, it’s a perk that serves no other use. Literally, the only thing you can do with it is enchant slabs of marble and turn them into charterstones. With the guy in God’s Keep gone, there’s only one man alive who can do it.”

Brian gave Feidan a knowing look. “Ozreal.”

Feidan nodded. “Ozreal is the only guy.”

It was a name I had heard before. The first time was on my initial playthrough, when I was in the cave next to the Plains of Jordan. Herelius had been conspiring to bring back Necrolor, and he'd mentioned trying to recruit Ozreal. Did that mean Ozreal was on their side?

Maybe not. I’d seen his name after that, too. I had been sent a mysterious note from the anonymous source who gave me a free login to Re:Fuze. They had also left me another note, and that one had read ‘Find Ozreal.’

This left me with more questions than I started with. It all depended on the person who sent me the login, and whether they were with the Serpents, or against them. If they were with the Serpents and they wanted me to find Ozreal, I’d be walking into a trap.

“Does anyone know who Ozreal is?” I said. “I’ve heard his name before.”

Smoglar was the one to answer. “He’s one of the most powerful guys in the game, yet he couldn’t kill an imp to save his life. He’s a waste of exp, if you ask me.”

I looked at Brian, hoping for a more rational answer. The giant sighed.

“Besides Necrolor, Ozreal is one of the oldest players in the game. The thing with him is, he put all his stat points and focussed all his skills on non-combative things. Ozreal is a man of learning and understanding. He knows more about the game world than anyone you will ever meet.”

“He’s the only person stupid enough to waste a level 90 perk on charterstones,” said Smoglar.

“Can we trust him?” I said.

“No,” answered Brian. “You can’t trust him, but nor should we distrust him. Ozreal is guildless, and he chooses no allies. The things going on around us mean nothing to him. Players grow strong and amass power, and then they die. While people rise and fall, Ozreal watches on.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice then,” I said. “We need to find him and get him to enchant a stone for us.”

“There’s a problem with that,” said Feidan.

“That doesn’t surprise me. What’s the issue?”

Feidan looked at us all in turn. His face seemed to grow paler. “Ozreal’s been imprisoned in Gorgefall for the last two years.”

I didn’t know where Gorgefall was, but looking at the faces of my friends, I got the impression this wasn’t a good thing. It didn’t come as a shock to me, really. Re:Fuze was a place where luck of the good variety was rare.

Quest Received: Recuse Ozreal

Ozreal the Learned is imprisoned in Gorgefall Dungeon. You need him to enchant a charterstone for you, so you need to rescue him. Sounds easy, doesn’t it? Well, it’s not. Nothing in Re:Fuze is easy.

Reward:

No guarantees, but if you ask nicely Ozreal may enchant a charterstone for you.

Chapter Fourteen

The streets started to show signs of life as the townsfolk walked around and looked at the damage done by the undead. Traders walked over to their stalls. The watch merchant gathered his trinkets in a leather bag and then walked away. A food vendor saw that his produced had spoiled, and he punched his wooden stall in frustration.

“If we’re going to Gorgefall,” said Smoglar, “I want to be more organised this time.”

I looked at him. “Really? You want to be more organised, the guy who charges at everything head-on?”

“What can I say? Call it personal growth, but I know what Gorgefall is like, and I’m not dying in there.”

“First thing is,” I said. “We need someone to take charge.”

We all looked at each other. Slowly, our gazes all settled on Brian.

“No way,” said the giant. “I’ve had my fill of leadership.”

“You were a leader before?”

“In the Serpent guild. I oversaw dungeon raids.”

“So don’t you think you’d be perfect for this?” I said.

The giant shook his head. He had a look of defiance. “Sorry Janus, but no. I won’t be the leader.”

“I’ll do it,” said Smoglar, getting to his feet.

I didn’t want to be rude to my friend, but I knew that he wasn’t cut out to be our leader. Smoglar was one of the strongest, bravest people I knew, but he wasn’t the greatest strategic thinker. That just left me and Feidan. I was still new to the game, and I didn’t think I’d be able to do the position justice. Feidan was a higher level than all of us, but he was an alchemist and had hardly seen his share of combat. Besides, I still didn’t completely trust him. I needed to convince Brian to step up.

“I guess if Brian isn’t up to the job…” I said.

“You’re not getting me like that,” said the giant. “I wrote the book on reverse psychology. Listen, Janus. Back when I was a Serpent, I led a unit of 5 dungeon raiders. After Herelius betrayed me and Smoglar, I found out that my unit was killed, too. I let them down. I should have seen the betrayal coming. After that, I don’t think I can lead again.”

“That wasn’t your fault,” I said. “That’s the whole point of betrayal; you don’t see it until it happens. We all trust you, Brian. We have faith in you. You’re the most experienced one of us here and let’s face it, you’re the cleverest.”

Brian sat in a silence for a few seconds. He sighed, and then nodded his head. “I’ll do it, just this once. Okay? After that, you choose someone else.”

“So what now then, boss?” said Smoglar, putting heavy emphasis on the word ‘boss.’

Brian sucked in his cheeks. “Smoglar, you’re the tank.”

“I feel like I'm getting typecast here. Can't someone else tank up for a while? I have a sensitive side, you know.”

“It can hardly be Janus, can it? And Feidan, since you’re an alchemist and a healer, you’ll be our healer. Square pegs in square holes.”

“That should free up my role,” I said. “and give me more time to inflict bomb damage.”

Brian nodded. “We’ll buy some casings and gunpowder and make as many bombs as we can carry.  We need to get Smoglar’s attack points up and get him some resistance armour, and I also want Feidan’s endurance to be a little higher.”

“Not that I don’t like the sound of better armour,” said Smoglar, “But all this costs money. And until our friend here pays up, we’re not flush with CR.”

Feidan reached into his bag. “I found a mythril-coated gem a while back. Selling it would probably pay for all our stuff. But if I do that, I want a bigger share of any loot.”

“You owe us money anyhow. How about you pay off your debts?” said Smoglar.

“I said I’d give you the CR from my bank. This isn’t it.”

“Fine,” said Brian. “You get 40% of the loot, and Smoglar, Janus and I get 20% each.”

The city square was busier now. One man walked through the streets with a broom in front of him and tried to sweep away the litter that had been left there for days. A group of elves stood with a long trail of paper and tried to make a register of everyone who had survived the plague.

I remembered how our last dungeon raid had gone. I pictured us following the twists of the tunnels without having any idea where they would lead. I didn’t want that to happen again.

“Last thing,” I said. “Is that we need a map of Gorgefall.”

“There’s a problem with that. There are maps, sure. But guess where they’ll be?” said Brian.

I sighed. “In the library?”

Brian gave a grim nod.

“We’ll have to do without it, then,” I said.

The idea made me uneasy, but if we could get into the library, then we wouldn’t have had to go to Gorgefall in the first place. I had learned things from our last dungeon siege. I knew that if we could handle a den filled with plague-infested rats and a pit demon, then we could handle Gorgefall.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and saw a man behind me. He wore a hat that covered his forehead, and stringy brown hair trailed over his ears and to his neck. He smiled at me, and I saw that he had two teeth missing. He looked like he had just stepped off a cabbage farm.

“I couldn’t help but overhear you lot gabbing,” he said. “I’ve got a map for Gorgefall here.”

Smoglar glared at him. “And what’s a yokel like you doing with a map to Gorgefall?”

“My dad was an adventurer,” said the man. “Or he wanted to be, at least. He bought a map to Gorgefall when he was in his fifties, but he never used it. Died on his armchair in front of the fire with a tobacco pipe next him.”

“How much do you want for it?” said Smoglar.

“Not much, but I lost a couple of paralegals to the plague and I need to recruit. CR100 and it's yours.”

“You’re a lawyer?” I said. I didn’t know what surprised me more; the fact that this man was in the legal profession, or the fact that there were lawyers in Re:Fuze.

“Yeah, what did you think I was? CR100. What do you say?”

That was too much for a map, but I was starting to understand that most people in Re:Fuze hiked up their prices and expected to be bartered down. We didn’t have much money between us, and I didn’t want Feidan to buy it because I knew that he’d expect even more loot.

I looked at the man and used my Animal Whisper ability. As I spoke to him, I heard my voice change. My tone became hypnotic, and my words burrowed into his mind.

“Give it to us for nothing. Your father would have wanted a group of explorers to use it.”

“You’ve got a deal,” said the man.

Animal Whisperer ability increased by 20%! (45% to next level).

Item Received: Gorgefall Map

After that Smoglar and Feidan went to find a weapons dealer, while Brian and I moved to a quiet part of the city and started assembling bombs. While I spread gunpowder over a casing, Brian looked up at me.

“If anyone else had asked me to be the leader,” he said. “I’d have told them to get stuffed.”

“So why did you accept?”

“I’m learning a lot about you, Janus. Your Chaos points might say otherwise, but you’re a good guy. Now listen, you know that Gorgefall is dangerous, don’t you?”

“Even the newbie village is dangerous in this game,” I answered.

Brian shook his head. “Gorgefall is a dungeon people usually only attempt when they reach level 20. What level are you, 15?”

“13,” I said.

“We’ll have to watch out for each other.”

“Keep an eye on Feidan,” I said. “I still don’t trust him.”

Feidan and Smoglar soon returned with their goods. Smoglar wore armour made of steel, and he seemed to walk with an increased air of pride. I could barely see where the plates joined, which was the sign of good craftsmanship. With that, the bombs, and our new healer, we had a good chance.

It was time to go to Gorgefall.

Chapter Fifteen

Obsessed with the idea that his wife was plotting to kill him, wealthy wine merchant Floris DeGyle moved into Gorgefall Dungeon. He had his servants carry his wealth there coin by coin, garment by garment, gem by gem. Soon, the muddy tunnels were filled with the sparkle of gold and shimmer of jewels.

As is often the case, word got around that riches were to be found in Gorgefall. Adventures arrived ready to kill Floris and take his wealth. Floris wasn’t a fighting man, and wouldn’t have been difficult to kill.

What the adventurers didn’t know was that Floris spent 2 of his teenage years as a Tinker, and still had knowledge of explosives. He wired Gorgefall with trip wires and bombs. The first adventurers to arrive triggered an explosion, and neither Floris nor his wealth was ever seen again. His wife, heartbroken at his paranoia and separation, never remarried.

We found Gorgefall east of Iskarg. It was one day’s quick march away, but we didn't want to unnecessarily burden our stamina, so we took our time. The lands around Iskarg were blighted by Dagmares, an aggressive breed of clawed horses. Brian assigned us all times to stay on watch at night.

Gorgefall itself was deserted. The tunnels were much better developed than the ones we had found in Margar dungeon. The walls were made of stone cut into blocks, and the ceiling was supported by wooden beams that were slick with dew. Streams of daylight managed to get in through unseen holes, and the thin light mixed with the darkness and gave the place a misty feel.

“Remember,” said Brian, walking in front of us all. “If we come up against something physical Smoglar takes the hits, Feidan heals, and Janus and I do damage from the sides.”

Every so often we walked by openings in the walls that led to rooms. We didn’t stop in any, but I glanced at them as we went by. I saw tables draped with dust and cobwebs, with abandoned wine glasses and dinner plates still in place. It was as though it had been occupied for a while and then had suddenly been abandoned.

“How about some light?” said Feidan. “I can cast an orb.”

Brian shook his head. “Better not. We don’t want to draw any attention our way just yet.”

“How far will we need to go, do you think?” said Feidan.

“Scared of the dark?” asked Smoglar.

“My father used to map cave systems in South America. When I got old enough, he started taking me with him. I was nervous on the first trip, but it’s been a long time since tight spaces or the dark bothered me.”

Smoglar huffed and then looked away.

“They don’t like to talk about the outside world,” I said.

As we walked deeper into the dungeon, the only sound we heard was our footsteps. It felt like the further we went, the more committed we were to this, and I got the strange feeling that the dungeon was closing behind us. I held my bag strap tighter. I had prepared seven screw bombs and three healing bombs, and I had my dagger tucked into my belt in case I needed to use it.

“Why would Ozreal come here?” I said.

“Most of the dungeons in Re:Fuze weren’t made by NPCs or players,” said Brian. “A lot of them were already here, meaning they had been created long ago. Some say that if you go deep into a dungeon and dig in the right places, you’ll find secrets and loot from civilizations long dead.”

“Yeah,” grunted Smoglar. “And others say if you dig in the wrong places you’ll poke a goblin in the arse with your spade.”

I heard something to my right. There was an opening that had once been an entrance to a room, but most of it was blocked off by rubble. The room beyond was too dark for me to make anything out.

“Anyone else hear that?”

Brian looked at me and shook his head. I thought I might have imagined it, but then I heard the patter of footsteps on the stone floor, and I heard raspy breaths behind us.

“I definitely heard that,” said Feidan.

Soon the pattering of feet grew louder, and the wheezing breaths increased and seemed to be joined by others. Soon it sounded like dozens of creatures were whispering around us.

“Think it’s time we had some light,” I said.

Feidan spread his palms out in front of him. He began to mutter under his breath, and as he did a ball of light began to gather, growing stronger with each syllable. Finally the ball stopped glowing and began to hum and vibrate in the healer’s palms. He lifted his hands up suddenly, and the light flew up to the ceiling and then spread across the dungeon.

Sometimes, it’s better not to turn on the light. With Feidan’s light illuminating it, we saw that the corridor around us wasn’t empty anymore. Instead, it was filled with creatures that had gradually crept up on us. They had dome-shaped heads covered with skin so smooth that the dew of the dungeon ran down it. Their backs were spiked with horns, and they walked hunched over. I saw that they didn’t appear to have eyes, and must have worked their way through the dungeon using their hearing.

I looked at one nearest me and focussed on its stats.

Trogologon – Level 24

HP: 460 / 690

Strengths: ???

Weaknesses: ???

Somehow this creature had already been hurt, but by who? It wasn’t by us, so I wondered if they fought each other. If they ran in a pack, then it was likely there would be leadership contests from time to time. When I looked around the tunnel and focussed on each creature in turn, I saw that all of them had lost a little HP.

It was clear they weren’t a welcome party. For a few seconds, nobody moved. The creatures hung back warily, and I wondered if we were the first strangers they had seen since Ozreal visited the dungeon. I wondered what had imprisoned him, and somehow I doubted these creatures had the intelligence to do so.

One of them snapped its head in Smoglar’s direction. The dwarf lifted his axe in the air. Suddenly he grunted in pain and dropped his axe to the floor. None of the creatures had touched him yet, so I had no idea what was going on.

“My hand,” he said. “Where that bloody plague woman bit me. Hurts so much I can hardly hold my axe.”

When I answered him, I found I was speaking quieter so as not to alarm the Trogologons. “You’ll have to go one-handed for now,” I said.

“I’m worse one-handed than you are with your dagger. Dammit!”

“Keep your voices down,” said Brian.

It was too late. The clang of the axe and the volume of Smoglar’s voice had unsettled the creatures. The one nearest Smoglar opened its mouth and started to make a whispering noise. I couldn’t make out the words, but there was a pattern to them. One by one each creature took up the whispering until soon the whole tunnel was alive with the sound. The noise was so eerie that I wanted to put a stop to it, but I knew that it would be a mistake to attack so soon.

If the whispers weren’t strange enough, there was the fact that all of the Trogologons now stared at Smoglar as they chanted. Their breaths were raspy, and the volume rose until I just wanted it to end.

Smoglar put his hand to his ears. Without warning, he started shouting at the top of his lungs until the passageways echoed with his deep voice. The sound didn't seem to perturb the creatures around us.

When he finished shrieking, Smoglar turned and looked at us. Feidan’s light was starting to fade, so it was hard to see clearly, but there was a strange look on the dwarf’s face. He seemed twisted in anguish one second, and deliriously happy the next.

Suddenly, Smoglar gripped his axe in his uninjured hand. Facing Feidan, he swung his weapon at the healer. I pulled Feidan back, and the arc of Smoglar’s swing only grazed his shoulder instead of catching him in the middle of his chest.

“What the hell?” said Feidan. “What’s wrong with you?”

The creatures snapped their heads away from Smoglar and stared at us now. A couple of them started moving in.

Something was wrong with Smoglar. I needed to use Appraiser on him, but I had to be able to see him clearly.

“Can you cast another light orb?” I said to Feidan.

“They're a mana drain. Do you really need it?”

I nodded, and Feidan grew a ball of light in his hand and then sent it across the room. As he did, all the Trogologons jerked back. I looked at the one I had already appraised, and I saw its stats again.

Trogologon – Level 24

HP: 315 / 690

Strengths: ???

Weaknesses: ???

The creature was too high a level for me to see its strengths and weaknesses at a quick glance. To do so I’d either need to raise my intelligence, or spend longer focusing on appraising it, and I didn’t have time for that. Luckily, I didn’t think I'd need to. Since I had last appraised the creature, its health bar had fallen even further. It was obvious, then. The creatures’ weakness was light.

To my right, Feidan cried out. Smoglar had swung with his axe, again barely missing his chest and hitting his arm instead. I used appraise on Smoglar, and I saw that he had a status beside his name.

Smoglar - **Confusion **

The creatures around us began whispering again, but this time they stared at Brian. We had to stop this, now. One by one they were going to turn us against each other until we went mad in the depths of the dungeon and killed ourselves.

“We need more light,” I said.

“It’s gonna drain me, Janus.”

“We don’t really have much of a choice.”

The whispering rose around us. Smoglar turned his attention away from Feidan and stared at me now. His face looked like it did when he was drunk. He held his axe in one hand and swung it at me. He was so used to using his two-handed skill that his one-handed was under-developed, and I was able to dodge the blow.

Another wave of light flashed through the dungeon. The Trogologons shrieked and reared back. I scanned one of them and found that its HP had dropped to just a quarter now.

One Trogologon, slightly bigger than the rest, stopped whispering. The others followed suit, and I saw them move their heads as if they were glancing around. The taller one stood up, and I saw that when the creatures weren’t hunched over they reached almost six feet tall. This made them a much more terrifying prospect.

They started to move in on us with their arms outstretched. On the ends of their fingers they had claws that looked sharp enough to slice through skin.

“One more wave of light,” I told Feidan.

“I don’t have enough mana.”

Smoglar swung another blow at me, this time catching my shoulder and sending pain through me. Brian stepped forward, grabbed his friend, and restrained him. Smoglar struggled in the giant’s grasp, but he couldn’t move.

We needed light. I had bombs in my inventory, but I knew the brief flash an explosion would give wouldn’t be enough. There had to be something else I could do.

Smoglar struggled in Brian’s grasp and tried to claw at his eyes. Brian released him. Then, without a seconds pause, he hit his friend on the head and knocked him out cold.

The light above us started to fade now, and the Trogologons crept in, slick heads bowed down, claws outstretched. Their HP was low, but there were too many of them, and they were all a high enough level that their attacks would hurt us.

I opened my inventory. I didn’t have anything that could directly cause a flash of sustained light, but I had something else. I dissembled one of my bombs and held the gunpowder in my hands. As the creatures advanced on us, I scattered it on the floor. Smoglar stirred and grunted as he tried to get up. As one of the creatures swiped at Feidan, I lit the powder and filled the tunnels with a steady flame.

The Trogologons reared back. Some screeched in pain, and I watched as their health bars dropped to just a fraction.

“Let’s finish them,” I said.

I equipped my dagger. Brian swung his hatchet at the Trogologon closest to him, and it fell onto the floor and shrieked in pain. Smoglar stood up. His eyes seemed to be focussed again. He gripped his axe clumsily in one hand and started to fight.

The tunnels filled with the sound of blades meeting flesh and the cries of pain as the Trogologons were drained of their health. I struck my dagger blindly at any creatures that came my way. More than once I felt claws dig into my skin and I grunted as my health dropped, but I didn’t stop. One by one the creatures died until soon, we were left alone in the tunnels.

We stopped for a while to catch our breath. Smoglar seemed to have no memory of what had happened to him.

“Sorry I had to hit you,” said Brian.

Smoglar looked at him quizzically. “Is that why I’ve got a banging headache?”

“They confused you when they started whispering,” I said. “We need to be careful.”

We walked on through the tunnels. Brian held the dungeon map in front of him, and we followed him deeper through the stone corridors. The dungeon seemed to grow colder, and I couldn’t help but look around me whenever I heard a noise. I expected to see the dome-shaped head of a Trogologon emerge from the shadows.

Eventually, we followed a passageway until we came to a dead end. Brian called us to a halt, but there was nowhere else we could have gone in any case.

“I don’t get it,” he said, straining to see the map in the darkness. “This should open into a larger room.”

There was no opening ahead of us. Instead, it was a stone wall with strange markings on it, and drops of water ran down it and collected on the floor. The stone had edges as though it was a door, yet there was no obvious way to open it.

“Are you sure you’re reading that thing right?” said Smoglar.

“I know how to read a map.”

Smoglar grunted. “Really? So you don’t remember the time we were heading to Yulluk and took a wrong turn, and we ended up surrounded by Dire Ligras in the Blue Ash pits?”

“You’ve got a long memory, dwarf.”

“Give it here.” He went to snatch the map from Brian, but the giant drew it away from him.

“I’m positive this is the way,” said Brian. “We’ve followed the course of the map so far, and this should lead us to the dungeon centre.”

“Well there’s one way to find out,” I said.

I took a bomb from my inventory and placed it next to the wall. I kneeled down and lit the fuse, and then I stood back. I heard the sound of flame burning down the fuse, and then it hit the bomb and exploded. The stone wall crumbled at the blast, and dust shot up in the air. I breathed it in and coughed, and my eyes stung from the debris that had blown back in my direction.

When the explosion settled we saw that the wall was gone, and beyond it was the room we had been looking for. It was the centre of the dungeon.

We stepped inside it and found a cave-like room with polished flooring. A pattern was etched into it, though it was too dark for me to make out what it was. Candles surrounded the outskirts of the room and cast a dim glow. At one end there was a cage. In it was a figure, but they didn’t move.

“It must be Ozreal,” I said.

As we stepped into the room, I heard a rumbling sound. A mist started to gather in front of us, smoky and black and reaching high up toward the ceiling. Gradually it began to take form, and soon, we saw a creature in front of us.

It was shaped like the Trogologons, but it was thirty feet taller. Where the others had been blind, this one had oval eyes that burned red as though they were on fire. Its arms were spindly and its fingers were capped with claws that were stained with blood.

“Appraise it, Janus,” said Brian.

I focussed on the creature in front of us. As my intelligence increased and my Appraiser skill improved, I had started finding it easier. As I stared at this creature, though, I hit a block. It was as though as soon as I looked at its skin, my mind went blank.

“It’s no use,” said Feidan. “It’s got a mana barrier. Abilities and magic won’t work against it.

The creature opened its mouth and looked like it was whispering to us, but I couldn’t hear anything.

Brian turned to face me. “We’re going to betray you, Janus.”

I jerked back in surprise. Brian stared at me with a confused look on his face. “Something wrong?”

The creature’s lips moved quicker, and still no sound came out. We needed to know its weaknesses, but with the mana barrier around it, my appraiser ability couldn’t get through.

“What did you say?” said Smoglar, glaring at me. A look of anger crossed his face.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You told me that you’re working with the Serpents,” said the dwarf.

“I didn’t say anything, I promise.”

“You’re all going to kill me, aren’t you?” said Feidan, glancing from left to right and backing away.

The creature stopped whispering. It ducked its head and then swiped a long arm across the dungeon floor. I backed away, but the creature hit Smoglar’s legs and made him fall to the floor. Smoglar got up, raised his axe and charged. Despite his low one-handed skill, he was able to strike the monster below the kneecap. It dealt some damage, but hardly enough to inspire hope.

I turned to Feidan. “I need to blow the barrier. If it’s a mana barrier, maybe we can overload it, but I don’t have enough mana to do that. If I open a bomb casing, can you focus your mana into it?”

“Why?” said Feidan. “So you can wait until I'm drained and then kill me?”

“The creature’s planting those thoughts in your head. Don’t listen to it. We’re not going to kill you, Feidan. Just focus.”

Feidan backed away further. He had a feral look in his eyes now, as though he might lash out at anyone who went near him.

The creature swiped its arm out again. This time he caught me with it, and I felt pain sear across my chest.

Smoglar got to his feet. He backed away from the creature and faced Feidan. The healer’s face was screwed up in anger.

“You led me here to kill me,” said Feidan. “You’re going to sacrifice me.”

I looked at Brian. “Whatever this thing is, it’s manipulating us. Like the Trogologons did in the passageway, but worse.”

“I know a good cure for confusion,” said Smoglar. “Brian taught me this one.”

He hit Feidan on the head with the blunt end of his axe. The healer cried out and put his hands to his skull, but his eyes seemed to clear.

“What the hell’s happening?” he said.

At the far end of the room, the figure in the cage began to stir. The glow of the candles around us wasn’t enough for me to make out what the figure looked like, but I saw that they were getting to their feet. It must have been Ozreal.

“Focus your mana into the bomb casing,” I told Feidan.

The healer closed his eyes and held his palms out. A blue mist began to gather, and then it drifted toward the bomb casing in front of me.

“It’s going to attack again,” said Brian.

As the creature lashed out with its arm in an arc, Smoglar leapt forward and took the brunt of the damage. He sat on the floor winded for a second and then got up.

The blue mist mingled with the gunpowder on the casing until finally, it was all shaded blue. Ahead of us, the creature started whispering again.

“Oh no, you don’t,” said Feidan, looking at me and backing away. “You’re trying to kill me.”

His face screwed up in anger. He ran at me, clearly ready to kick the casing and send the contents of the bomb flying before I had the chance to close it. I stood up, and just as the healer reached me I punched him in the face. My knuckles stung, and I got the sense that the blow had hurt me more than it had him. Regardless, the healer staggered back. I closed the bomb, lit it, and threw it at the monster. As it exploded, the air in front of the creature seemed to shimmer, and then it broke.

I focused on the monster and this time I felt information flood toward me.

The Old One – Level 46

HP: 3880/ 4000

Strengths: Manipulation

Weaknesses: Arcane

None of us knew any arcane magic. It was clear that at some point in the future, we’d need to have a mage on our side to balance out the team. Until then, though, we were faced with a creature that had a weakness we couldn’t exploit.

The figure at the far end of the room stood up now. They gripped the bars of their cage and shook them.

As the creature swung its claws at us, I jumped over its arm and let it miss me. I sprinted across the floor to the far end of the room. As I rushed by the creature I heard its whispers louder this time. It was a hissing sound, as though the room were filled with snakes.

I heard cries of pain behind me, and I saw that Brian was on the floor. The creature drew back its arm and prepared to strike again. We didn’t have long.

The cage in front of me was held firm by a thick steel lock. There was no way I’d be able to force it open, and I didn’t have the lockpicking skill. The imprisoned figure watched me silently. They had a hood drawn over their face, and in the darkness, I couldn’t make out their features.

I gripped the lock. The steel was cold to the touch and though parts of it looked rusted, it held firm. I dissembled another bomb and took the gunpowder and poured it into the keyhole. I inserted a fuse and lit it.

“Stand back,” I told the figure in the cage. They weren’t in my party, and I knew that any explosion I created could hurt them.

Across the room, Feidan shouted out in pain. I turned around to see that Smoglar was stood above him with his axe drawn. The creature must have placed confusion on him, and the dwarf looked like he was ready to kill our healer. Brian ran over to them, but The Old One struck him with his claw and knocked the giant to the ground.

The fire reached the end of the fuse and exploded. To my dismay, I saw that the lock was still in place, but the metal had weakened. I struck it with my dagger again and again until finally, the lock fell to the floor.

The figure in the cage pushed the door opened. As he walked out, I saw that it was a man. Without looking at me, he crossed the room until he stood beside The Old One.

He raised his hand above his head and clenched his fists. A purple light gathered above him, so bright that it was like a firework exploding in the darkness. He screamed out and then clapped his hands together.

Just as The Old One turned around, the purple light shot at him. It drenched his skin and then slid over his body. Wherever the light touched it the creature screamed, and smoke sizzled off it. Its health bar began to fall further, until finally it tilted its head and gave one last roar of pain, before falling to the ground.

Quest Completed: Rescue Ozreal

Level up to level 14! (216 exp to level 15)

Chapter Sixteen

The years had taken their toll on Ozreal. Wrinkles were cut into a face that was pale from imprisonment. When we walked out of the dungeon he took stumbling steps, as though it had been a while since he stretched his legs. Despite his weary posture, I couldn’t help but feel impressed by him. He wore a robe that, although it was tattered, shimmered when sunlight shone on it. His hood covered most of his head, and a blue trinket was clipped around the top of his robe. His eyes seemed to have limitless depths. I knew that even if I focussed all my attention on appraising him, I wouldn’t even begin to see the secrets he held.

Ozreal preferred to walk at the back of the group on his own for a while. I guessed that he was so used to the solitude that he felt uncomfortable walking beside us, so we gave him some peace as we headed back to Iskarg. Brian marched at the front with me.

“I thought you said Ozreal couldn’t fight?” I asked.

“I said he doesn’t fight; not that he can’t.”

“I learned arcane magic when I was a young mage,” said Ozreal, at the back. His voice was rough, and each syllable seemed to be shaped by years of pain.

“Why didn’t you just use it when you were in your cage?” I asked, turning to face him.

“The Old One wasn’t a fool. He cast a barrier over my enclosure. I’m curious, tinker. Why did you come to free me? My absence in the game world must have been noted, but none bothered apart from you.”

I explained to him everything that had happened until now. I told him of Herelius Rouge and of the Old Serpent’s Sting. When I mention this, Ozreal listened intently. Finally, I explained that we needed access to the Grand Library, and to do that we had to create a guild.

“One good turn deserves another,” he said, after listening to me. “I’ll create your charterstone for you. I have marble we can use.”

Great, it seemed that luck was on our side. It was a rare feeling to have, and I was glad of it. The quicker we had access to the library, the quicker we would find out where the Greye guild lived. I wanted to destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting as soon as possible. In truth, it had become a burden to me. I knew that if the Serpents got it, then they would be able to find Necrolor’s death shards easier. Keeping it safe until then was too great a responsibility to have.

“Shall we get started?” I said.

Ozreal smiled. It was a faint one, as though his face wasn’t used to making the expression. “I can see you’re keen, but one detail eludes us. My mana was drained in my imprisonment, and I used the dregs of it to cast the arcane spell. We will have to wait until it recharges.”

As we crossed a muddy plain I dropped away from Brian and the others until I walked at the back with Ozreal. He made no indication that my presence either pleased him or irritated him, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I said.

Ozreal carried on staring in front of him. “We all need to talk to someone about something. The question is, are they the right things?”

“Before I entered Re:Fuze, someone left me a note. I didn’t know what it meant at the time, and truth be told, I’m still wondering what the implications are.”

“What did it say?”

“It told me to look for you. It said ‘Find Ozreal.’”

Ozreal walked with his hands in front of him and tucked into the wide sleeves of his robe. He reminded me of a monk walking in solitude. I got the impression that our presence with him didn’t make the slightest difference to him.

“Curious,” he said. “On its own, that would be interesting. It becomes more so when I tell you that I also received a note, and this one was anonymous too.”

“What did it say?”

“It said…,” started the mage, pausing for effect. “Remember to buy milk.”

With that he started to chortle to himself, so much so that his shoulders shook. I sighed. First impressions don’t count for much, but I hadn’t imagined Ozreal to have a sense of humour.

“So did you really get a note, or what?”

He nodded. “So you’d like to be serious? Okay, then. I did get a note, young tinker. And mine said just two words.”

He left a long pause as if he was a game show announcer stretching out the moments before he told us who the winner was. I was starting to think that as much as he pretended otherwise, this old mage loved attention.

“And….?”

Ozreal looked at me, and his face became serious. “My note read ‘Find Janus.’ So it would seem that we were meant to meet, wouldn’t it? Our paths are bound together.”

“Any idea who sent yours?”

Ozreal shook his head.

Ahead of us, Smoglar suddenly dropped to the floor face-first. Brian ran over to him and kneeled beside his friend. He gently turned him over, and we saw that his nose had broken when he hit the ground, and blood trickled out from his nostrils. Smoglar didn’t stir for a few moments, and Brian looked worried.

The dwarf blinked and then opened his eyes. He stared at us, confused. His HP had dropped to halfway, though looking around, I couldn’t see anything that could have hurt him.

“What happened?” said Smoglar, his voice weak.

Feidan stood over him. “It’s the hand,” he said.

I looked at Smoglar’s hand, and I saw what he meant. The flesh between his index finger and thumb was so inflamed that it looked like it could burst. The rest of his hand was as grey as ash, and blue veins stuck out. It looked like the hand of a corpse.

“Someone pass me a healing potion,” said Brian.

Feidan shook his head. “That’ll restore some HP, but I’m afraid it won’t help your friend.”

“What’s going on?” I said. I took a potion out of my bag and passed it to Brian, who uncorked it and tipped it in Smoglar’s mouth.

Feidan crossed his arms. “I thought we got the antidote to him in time, but it seems I was wrong. Look at his hand. It’s plagued.”

“So cook him up another antidote,” I said.

Ozreal stood yards away from us. He spoke in his rough tone. “The dwarf is too far gone. The plague has his hand between its teeth, and it will soon bite down on the rest of him.”

Brian looked around him. I had never seen him looking so worried. “There has to be something we can do.”

Feidan and Ozreal exchanged glances. Something passed between them, a secret that the rest of us were oblivious to.

“Will you two stop flirting and tell us what to do?” I said.

Feidan took a deep breath. “There’s only one course of action left to take.”

“The dwarf will have to lose the hand,” said Ozreal.

Brian shook his head. “No way.”

“He either loses the hand, or he dies,” said Feidan. “With a plague this advanced, no antidote will have any effect. It’s concentrated around the bite at the minute, but it won’t be long before it spreads. If you want him to live, he has to lose the hand.”

Smoglar stirred on the ground. His forehead was damp with sweat, and when he spoke, his voice was weak. “I can’t blacksmith one-handed,” he said.

“And you can’t do anything when you’re dead,” answered Feidan.

Brian looked around as if he expected salvation to appear from somewhere in the boggy plains. Feidan and Ozreal’s faces were stern. I looked at Smoglar and Brian, and I couldn’t help but feel pity. Pity towards Smoglar because he would lose a hand, and toward Brian as well for the sadness he obviously felt at his friend’s plight.

“We’re losing time,” said Feidan. “One of you must do it.”

Brian swallowed. “I’ll do it.”

“Can we give him anything for the pain?” I said.

Ozreal stepped forward. “He’s barely conscious. By the time the blade meets his flesh, he’ll have passed out. There’s no sense in drawing this out, friends. Your choice is this; cut off his hand now, or lose him completely.”

Brian removed Smoglar’s armour. He spread his arm across the ground and rolled up his sleeve to the elbow. The dwarf’s arm was still red, but his hand had lost colour completely. Brian took a cloth shirt out of his bag and tied it around Smoglar’s forearm.

“One quick, clean, blow is all it will take,” said Ozreal.

Brian lifted his hatchet in the air. At the top of his swing, he paused and stared at his friend. His arm started to shake, and his expression lost all resolve. Slowly, he lowered his hand and threw his hatchet on the ground.

“I can’t do it,” he said.

I took a deep breath. Smoglar’s life hung in the balance, and one of us had to act.  Without pausing to think, I strode across the plain and picked up the hatchet. I gripped it tightly in my hand and looked at my dwarf friend on the ground. The more I stared at him, the sadder I felt.

I didn’t want to do this, but it was the only way to save him. I had to put all my thoughts to one side and just do it. I focussed on his arm and tuned out everything around me. I took a breath and held it in.

As everyone watched, I raised the hatched in the air. My lungs started to hurt from the air I held in. I had to do this.

In one strong, sharp arc, I sliced down with the hatchet and felt it cut into Smoglar’s skin. I heard the sound of it carving through flesh and then cracking through bone. Brian turned away, while Smoglar grunted in pain. The only mercy was that he felt little of it in his current state. When I was sure that I had separated his hand from his arm, I threw the hatchet down and gulped in air.

I needed to lie down. I hadn’t come to Re:Fuze expecting it to be easy, but nor I had entered the game thinking I would have to amputate a limb. I had done the right thing, but I felt lousy all the same.

I barely had time to collect myself when Feidan called out.

“We’ve got visitors,” he said.

I turned and saw two men on horseback galloping toward us. They wore black coats that they had wrapped around their bodies and fastened with belts and buckles. Saddlebags hung on the sides of their horses. As they got closer I saw that they were player characters, and each man had a symbol next to his name depicting a CR sign and a weighing scale.

“Mercs,” said Feidan.

I looked at their names.

Sepeltura – Thief – Level 18

Blue Velvet – Rogue Mage – Level 14

It had been a while since we had come across any fellow player characters. We’d seen some on our journey through the map, but most gave us just a passing glance before going on their way. Re:Fuze wasn’t a place where people stopped to have a chat; you always had another level to gain, and another quest to complete.

The men rode to within six feet of us then pulled tight on their reigns, stopping their horses. I heard the jingle of CR coins as their saddlebags swayed. One of the Mercs looked down at Smoglar on the ground.

“Your friend doesn’t look too good.”

“How much do you want for his hand?” said the other.

I knew that the Mercs were a guild who, where possible, stayed out of the fight between the Halons and the Serpents. The only time they became involved was when one thing was threatened; their profits. It was a guild that called out to those who wanted nothing more than to earn CR, no matter how they had to do it.

“You guys need to trade?” said one of the Mercs.

One of the Mercs, Blue Velvet, had a staff strapped to the side of his horse. The other, Sepeltura, had daggers tucked across his belt. I didn’t trust them, but it wasn’t because of their weapons. Everyone in Re:Fuze was armed because with so many creatures around, a life of pacifism was impossible. There was something wrong about the way these men had seemingly ridden out of nowhere and found us.

“We don’t have anything to trade,” I said. “Another time, maybe.”

“You sure?” said Blue Velvet. He nodded down at Smoglar. “Your friend looks like he could do with a potion.”

“We’ve got some.”

Sepeltura tugged on the reigns of his horse. He seemed irritated. “Forget the act, Velvet. Let’s just take them in.”

Velvet nodded. “Fine, if you’re not going to play along,” he said, looking at me. “Let’s forget the charade.”

“We’re here for the bounty,” said Sepeltura.

Back in Dry Gulch, we’d earned a bounty by killing some NPCs. It seemed so long ago now that I had almost forgotten about it, and I certainly hadn’t expected anyone to claim it so soon.

Blue Velvet reached to the side of his horse and grabbed his staff. He pointed it at me and chanted. A bolt of energy fizzed on the end of it, and when Velvet raised his staff high in the air, the whole thing seemed alive with electricity. He suddenly pointed his arm forward, and the blue energy shot toward me.

As the bolt flew through the air, it looked like it was going to hit me head on. It travelled so quickly that I didn’t have time to duck, but just as it reached me, it seemed to hit an invisible field of energy. The bolt fizzed out and then evaporated.

“Mana shield, eh?” said Sepeltura.

I turned around and saw Feidan holding his hands in front of him, and his face strained with the effort of summoning the shield.

“I levelled up in the dungeon,” he said. “This is my new ability.”

Brian stood up. His face seemed strange; his eyes looked like they were aflame, and his features twisted up. I had never seen him so angry. It was as if the grief of what had happened to his friend had crystallised and then transformed into fury.

He charged forward at Sepeltura with his hatchet held high. I had seen him fight with it before and I knew that he couldn’t do much damage with his melee weapon, so I didn’t hold out much hope. When Brian raised his arm and then struck the first Merc, there was a red flash. The Merc was blasted off his horse and onto the ground, where Brian pounced on him and rained blow after blow of his hatchet down on him.

I appraised my friend.

Brian the Giant - **Enraged**

Blue Velvet made his horse step back. He raised his staff again and sent another blue shock toward us. This time there was no force field to stop it. I felt the energy blast me in the chest and then spread across my skin, burning wherever it touched me.

Brian left Sepeltura and ran over to the remaining Merc. He raised his hatchet and prepared to strike. As he did, Sepeltura turned and stabbed his dagger at the giant, slashing him across the face.

I equipped my dagger and ran over to the horse. I knew I would only get one chance at this, and I needed to concentrate. As I closed the gap between us I focussed on Sepeltura until I drowned out everything else around me. I felt my Knife Play skill activate, and as I prepared to stab him with my blade, my body filled with energy and anger. I shouted out as I plunged my knife into his waist. A red flash blinded my vision, and I knew that I had scored a critical hit.

The rider fell onto the floor. He twisted and tried to get up, but Brian used his hatchet to drain the last of his HP.

75EXP Gained (141 exp until level 15)

Knife Play skill increased by 60% (Critical modifier) – Level Up to Level 2!

Attack Move Learned: Poison blade

You can charge your blade with a slow-acting poison that will drain an opponent’s HP as the fight wears on. This attack can only be used once per battle.

Chapter Seventeen

The Iskarg we returned to was different to the one we had left. Although we’d been away for less than a week, life had returned to the streets. A tragedy had befallen the once-great scholar city, but the residents wouldn’t let that get them down. Traders had set up stall again on the market square. Nearby, sat on a wall, was a beggar. I couldn’t be sure, but he looked like the man I had seen in Dry gulch near the library.

Guards with spears patrolled the alleyways and stood watch at the main city gates. Iskarg could hardly have been described as flourishing, but its residents had made the first step to recovery.

While Ozreal went to an inn guest room to rest and recharge his mana, the rest of us had things to do. Brian took Smoglar to the same inn to let him heal. The dwarf hadn’t said much since we had entered Iskarg, but I didn’t blame him.

He was lucky to be alive, I knew, but things were forever changed for him. Not only would he have to start building his one-handed skill, but he would also never be able to use his blacksmith skills again. Weirdly, I think it was that which hurt him the most. It was a passion of his, and he’d looked forward to making us all some new armour. Now, he’d never get the chance.

When we were alone, Feidan spoke to me. “After Ozreal creates the charterstone we’ll be part-way there. Now all we need is money to buy materials for the guild house and to pay people to construct it.”

“We?” I said.

“Come on,” said Feidan. “I haven’t come all this way with you to leave when the party gets started. I want in, Janus. I never joined a guild because the others didn’t appeal to me, and my own guild was a wash-out. But there’s something different about this.”

I thought about it. Although I hadn’t trusted the healer at first, so far he had done nothing but help us. Having a healer in our party balanced it out.

“You’re in,” I said. “But first, I think you owe us something.”

Feidan nodded. “The CR and the items. Listen, Janus.”

“Yeah?”

“I know you’re caught up in something big. But here’s some advice for you. Every once in a while, take a second to appreciate things. The smell of a city when you walk into it, the way the two moons hang in the sky. It’ll keep you together when things get bad.”

As much as I thought our luck had started to turn after finding Ozreal, it wasn’t to be. When Feidan and I went to the city bank, we found that it had been looted when the streets had been filled with the undead. Someone had taken advantage of the lack of guards and had blown their way into the vault. They had stopped along the way to clear out the deposit boxes of everyone who had left their items and CR there for safe keeping.

This left us with a problem. We’d gained some CR from the dungeons we had raided, but it was barely enough to spring for a couple of rooms at the inn. After that, it left hardly anything.

“There has to be another way,” I said, as Feidan and I left the bank.

“Building a guild is expensive, Janus. We’re stuck without the CR.”

I looked around me. Although the city was showing signs of life, some windows remained dark, and curtains stayed closed.

“I don’t want to seem like a vulture,” I said. “But with so many people gone, there must be a lot of unoccupied buildings. Maybe we could pick something up cheap rather than building a guild house from scratch.”

Feidan nodded. “Perhaps. But we’d still need CR to do that.”

“Couldn’t help but overhear,” said a voice, behind me.

I turned to see a man stood behind us. He wore a shirt made of silk that looked like it was worth more than everything in my inventory. His fingers were covered in gold rings that glinted when the sunlight hit them. From the colour of his name above his head, I knew that he was an NPC.

Guile Travers - Banker

“Whatever you overheard, forget it,” I said.

Guile looked from side to side to make sure nobody was listening to us. He leaned in closer as if we were conspiring.

“There are people around here who don’t like the way the Serpents go about things,” he said. “And there are those who think the Mercs’ prices are getting worse. And the Halons? Enough said about those do-gooders the better.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’m a wealthy man, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

When he said this, he lifted his hand to display his rings. When I looked at each one, all I could think was that he was wearing the cost of my parents’ mortgage on his fingers.

I wondered what was to stop a player from simply killing Guile, selling the rings, and then transferring the CR out of the game. But the Iskarg city guards were back, and I guessed that the bounty killing him would place on you meant that it wouldn’t be worth it.

“Well done,” I said, nodding at the rings. “What’s your point?”

“Let’s go, Janus,” said Feidan.

Guile held a finger in the air. “You might want to hear what I have to say.”

“Go ahead.”

“I have so much CR that I find myself running out of things to spend it on. I couldn’t help overhear that you’re trying to start a guild and, well, you’re running a little short. So I have a proposition for you, gentlemen. How about I fund the cost of the guild house?”

My instincts told me not to trust him. Nothing in Re:Fuze came for free. “And I assume you want something in return?”

Guile smiled wide. “Just something simple. A trifle. I want to join the guild.”

On hearing this, Feidan snorted. “An NPC can’t join a guild.”

Guile looked around him in mock fear. “Oh can’t they?” he said in a sarcastic tone. “Tell me, oh great one, who made this rule? Who says I can’t join?”

“Tell me why you want to join,” I said.

“Simple,” answered Guile. “I need access to the Grand Library.”

“Join the club.”

Guile crossed his arms. “It’s a simple situation for you. Either you let me be part of your guild, or you don’t have a guild to join.”

“Give us a second,” I said to him.

I put my hand on Feidan’s shoulder and guided him away from Guile. When we were far enough that he couldn’t hear us, I turned to the healer.

“He’s right you know,” I said. “Without his money, we’ve got no other avenues to go down. The thing is, we’re going to have to wait for Brian before we decide. We did elect him the leader, after all.”

Feidan took a deep breath. “Listen, Janus. Sure, you made Brian leader. But we all know that you’re the driving force behind this. Brian’s a clever guy, but he doesn’t have what you have.”

“And what’s that?”

“There’s a ruthless streak to you, Janus. Pragmatic. You can get things done.”

I knew that Brian would tell the banker that we didn’t accept his proposal. He’d prefer to find another way to do things. We didn’t have much choice. We either accepted Guile’s money, or we spent more time in Iskarg with the Old Serpent’s Sting and we waited for the Serpents to find us.

I walked over to the banker and stuck my hand out. “You’ve got a deal,” I said.

The next day we found an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Iskarg. The farmer and his family had died from the plague, and the city council auctioned the property off. Guile bought it outright and then signed it over to the guild on a two-year lease, which he then paid for upfront.

After that, he hired contractors to strip the house and turn it from a residential property into something more fitting of a guild. Feidan had said that I was a man who got things done, but I couldn’t help but feel that Guile outstripped me in that regard. All he had to do was click his fingers and wave his CR, and things happened. It seemed that money bought what bombs and daggers couldn’t.

After two days, Smoglar and Brian emerged from the inn. Usually, if Smoglar had been in an inn he would have been drinking. This time, he spent his time asleep in bed in a deep fever, while Brian watched over him. I’d taken over from time to time to let the giant get some rest. I’d watched my friend twist and turn under the bedsheets and mutter to himself about blacksmithing and plagues. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

The four of us were outside the guild house one afternoon when a figure walked across the plains. I soon saw that it was Ozreal, and he held a slab of marble in his hands.

This was it. With the guild house built, we only needed to lay a charterstone. I had held it in until now, but I couldn't help feeling excited.

“This is an accomplishment you know,” said Brian. “Not many people could make a guild.”

“And especially not a level 14 tinker,” added Smoglar. He smiled at me, but I knew that he was just trying to put a brave face on things.

Although they hurt when you received them, wounds in Re:Fuze didn’t take as long to heal as they did out of the game. Although Smoglar would never get his hand back, the pain had stopped.

Ozreal greeted us with a grim nod. At first, I thought something terrible had happened, but I realised that was just his manner. When the old mage wasn’t making jokes, he had a sour look on his face.

“One charterstone, as requested,” he said, handing it to me.

I took it from him. The marble was cold and smooth. It didn’t seem different to any old piece of marble. I didn’t know what I expected; should it have glowed?

“Is it ready?”

“Almost,” said Ozreal. “We need to place this where it won’t be found easily. If someone destroys the charterstone, they can destroy the guild.”

This was interesting. I had assumed that once a guild was made, it would exist as long as there were members. If all it took to end a guild was to destroy their charterstone, then what did this mean for the Serpent guild? If I could get to their stone, could I finish them?

We placed the stone underneath the barn of the farmhouse. There was a hatch on the floor that led to a basement, and it was there that we set it. I used a bomb to blow a chunk out of a nearby cliff face, and we filled the basement up with rubble so that nobody could get in. With that done, Ozreal cast an arcane spell over the hatch so that nobody could enter.

I stood in the barn. I hadn’t made a tour of the new guild house since I was told it was finished. But now, with the stone set, I felt it was finally time.

“Just one more thing,” said Brian.

“What’s that?”

“We need a name.”

I thought about it. One name came to mind straight away; a name that I knew would get the Halons, Serpents and Mercs mad. It was a name that meant a lot to me.

“That’s easy,” I said, spreading my arms out. “Welcome, everyone, to the Tinkers Guild.”

Quest Completed: Create a Guild

Your Guild Rank: Officer

Level up to level 15! (239 exp to level 16)

Chapter Eighteen

Global Message: A new guild has been created. The Tinkers Guild is now the 5th guild in Re:Fuze.

Guild Leader: Brian the Giant.

The guild house wasn’t a palace, but we were proud of it all the same. It consisted of a farmhouse, a barn, two storage sheds and ten acres of land. That gave us a lot of leeway to do what we wanted.

In the farmhouse, we left 2 rooms as bedrooms but fitted them with cheap single beds that we arranged in rows. If necessary, we wanted guild members to be able to sleep here rather than paying the prices at the inn in Iskarg. We turned another bedroom into an alchemy lab. It was supposed to be for everyone to use, but Feidan took it as his own since, for the moment, he was our only alchemist. The idea was that he would brew us health, stamina, and mana potions and we would stockpile them in one of the storage sheds.

At Brian’s behest, we turned another bedroom into a library. We were going to stock books on various classes, skills and trades. We hoped these could be used to cross-skill our guild members. Brian also wanted a section devoted to Re:Fuze lore, but we decided that would be non-essential until our coffers were swelling. In the meantime, we allowed him to buy just a few history books.

One morning, I met Smoglar before the others had woken up and I asked him to take a walk with me.

“A strange thing for you to ask, Janus,” said Smoglar. “We don’t normally take romantic walks together.”

“It’s not far, trust me.”

I walked him around the farmhouse and to the back garden. In it, next to a pond, I’d placed an anvil, hammer and forge. Smoglar stood and looked at the equipment. For a second his eyes lit up, but then he turned to me and glared.

“Are you playing a joke?” he said, holding his arm stump in the air.

I shook my head. “No, this is yours.”

“I can’t use it, lad. I don’t know if you remember, but you played a part in cutting off my hand.”

“I know,” I said. “Have you ever heard of Quick-Hand Kurug?”

Smoglar shook his head.

“He was a blacksmith,” I said. “He worked in a town a hundred miles away, according to one of Brian’s books. He was a humble guy, but he was obsessed with his craft, and he was so skilled that the king would send his men across the land to buy from him.”

“Never heard of him,” said Smoglar.

“Me neither, until I read about him. One day, a rich noble bought a chest plate from Kurug. Normally it wouldn’t have been an issue, but this noble managed to beat the king in a joust whilst wearing the chest plate. The king found out, and he was so angry that he ordered Kurug’s hammer-hand to be chopped off.”

“I feel like me and this Kurug fella would get on.”

“Here’s the real point to the story. Kurug didn’t stop blacksmithing. No way. Instead, he practiced one-handed until he was as good as, if not better, than he used to be.”

“And then what?”

“And then he stopped selling to kings and nobles and just practiced his craft for the sheer joy of it, apparently.”

Smoglar stared at the anvil in front of him. I heard him start to breathe deeply. He walked over and stood next to me, and then patted his hand on my back. We stood for a while and then I walked away, with the understanding that neither of us would get sentimental.

***

Later, a boy no older than twelve tugged on the handle of a cart and pulled it behind him down the streets of Iskarg. The cart was overflowing with onions and carrots, and the boy grunted with the strain. It seemed like he wasn’t used to the weight, and I guessed that his father had pulled the cart until recently. It was likely that he had perished in the plague.

Over at the city walls, I saw that the zeppelin moored there had gone, which was a pity. At some point, I had wanted to find the owner and see how someone would go about making an airship.

As we walked toward the Grand Library we passed the trader square. Rain lashed onto stalls covered by brightly coloured fabric, and then bounced down to the cobblestone streets.

Brian walked next to me, and Ozreal was on the other side of him. We had left Smoglar back at the guild house, where he had started practicing his one-handed blacksmithing skills. We doubted he would have wanted to come anyway. We extended our invitation to Feidan. When I went to his alchemy lab, I opened the door and saw him staring at a bubbling vial of liquid with a look of intense concentration. I decided that I'd leave him to spend some alone time with his potions.

“I’m thinking of putting a call out to all the guildless in Re:Fuze,” said Brian.

“Do that, and you’ll be surprised at what responses you’ll get,” answered Ozreal.

I nodded. “Some people are guildless for a reason, and there are people out there who we wouldn’t want to join us. What about if we left a message in Blundow?”

Brian nodded. “Good idea. We could have Percy include the Tinkers in his little information speech about joining guilds.”

When we stood in front of the library, we found that as before, the base of it was a cylinder-shaped block of metal that seemed to have no door.

“It’s been a while since I was here,” said Ozreal. “Come to think of it, the last time I visited the library was when I was part of the Halon guild. And I’m sure I still have a book that I never took back.”

“That’s going to be one hell of an overdue fine,” I said.

A mist screen appeared in front of us, and I saw the faint outline of a face. Where the last face we had seen outside the library was a stern-looking man, this was a young woman with round cheeks and a pleasant smile.

“State your guild,” she said, in a light voice.

“Tinkers Guild.”

On hearing this, she smiled wider. “I got your global message. How exciting. Come in.”

I stepped forward. “So…how do we actually get in?”

She arched her eyebrows. “The door, of course.”

This time, when I looked at the cylinder, a door appeared. We stepped through it and found ourselves in a room barely bigger than a cubby hole.

“What now?” said Brian.

“Just wait,” answered Ozreal.

The room started to shake, and soon I got the sensation that we were moving high up into the sky. A rush of vertigo shot through me, but it quickly passed. When the shaking stopped and the door opened, I saw the library for the first time.

If someone came here without a love of books, this placed would surely have given them one. The interior of the library seemed too big for the building, as though its dimensions altered once you stepped inside. Bookshelves carved from stained mahogany lined the room wall to wall, and the spines of books stared out at us. I could read a lot of them, but some were written in languages that I didn’t understand. Antique globes sat on custom-built tables on the polished marble floor. The ceiling above us was curved. On it were intricate paintings that depicted scenes from the history of the land, but I wasn’t well-read enough to know what they were.

From the way Brian’s eyes widened, I could tell he was in love. He looked the same as Smoglar had when I gave him his new axe. Ozreal stood with his hands in front of him and tucked them into his sleeves.

“Which book are we actually looking for?”

“Anything related to guild creation or guild lore,” said Brian. “And any history texts that relate to the formation of the guilds. Somewhere, in one of them, there will be something about the Greye homeland.”

I looked around me. There must have been hundreds of thousands of books.

“We’re going to be here a while, aren’t we?” I said.

Ozreal nodded. “They have rooms at the back where one can sleep and bathe. The scholars from the college would sometimes stay here for a month at a time.”

“Let’s split up,” said Brian.

As Brian moved to a section devoted to Re:Fuze lore, I stood in the centre of the library and looked around me. There were so many places to start that it seemed that no matter where I began, it would be the wrong place. I focused on the books and tried to use my appraiser skill, hoping it would somehow pick the right book out. The titles of the books around me flooded my screen, but none stood out.

As the day wore on I must have flicked through a hundred books. There was no time to actually read them, of course, so I resorted to skipping to the contents pages and looking for any mention of guild creation. As the afternoon wore on, I had nothing, and I knew I’d be working until well into the night.

I crossed the library and joined Ozreal at a shelf. The library was so quiet that my footsteps were the only noise.

“Any luck?” I said.

“I found a book called ‘Baking with Arcane Magic.’ It sounds so ridiculous that I might have to read it.”

I leaned against the bookshelf. I had been so obsessed with finding the book that I hadn’t realised that I was tired. Come to think of it, I hadn’t even sat down for hours.

“I’ve got nothing but papercuts,” I said. “I need to ask you something, Ozreal.”

Ozreal closed the book in his hand and turned to face me. “Go ahead.”

“Do you, by any chance, know my brother?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Who is he?”

“That’s the thing. Outside the game, I could tell you everything about Thomas. His hair colour, his favourite TV show, what cereal he likes to eat in the morning. In the game, I know next to nothing about him.”

“I’m not the best person to ask about stuff like this,” said Ozreal. “Although I’ve been around a long time, I’m not the most sociable of creatures. My idea of a party is reading a book next to a camp fire.”

“Worth a try,” I said.

The windows of the library turned black as night crept over the city outside. The librarian on duty, a short man with a crooked back and bushy beard, walked through the room and lit candles, making sure that the open flames were at least two metres away from the closest book.

We worked well into the night. I had flicked through so many books that my fingers were stained with ink. It was getting close to time to call it a night when Brian ran over to me. His booming footsteps disturbed the silence of the library, and the librarian looked at him with a scowl.

The giant held a book in the air. The cover was battered, and the writing on the front was spiralled and red. “I’ve got it,” he said. “It’ll be in this book, I guarantee it.”

“What’s it say?” I asked.

Brian shrugged his shoulders. “Dunno. It’s written in Hreki.”

“If you can’t read it, how do you know this is the book we need?”

He prodded the cover with a meaty finger. “See this? This is the Greye logo. The book looks like it’s hundreds of years old, but it can’t be, because the Greyes haven’t been around that long.”

“So what are you saying?”

“The Greyes wrote this book and then made it look older than it was. It’s probably a history of their guild.”

“That sounds right,” said Ozreal. “The Greyes are prone to theatrics, and they take the mystery of their guild far too seriously. I can fully believe they’d write a book about themselves and then make it look ancient, just so that it could sit in the lore section of the Grand Library. And the fact that it’s written in Hreki seems to fit, too; it would be far too boring and normal for the Greyes to write it in the common language.”

“Which leads us to another problem,” said Brian. “I don’t even know the word for ‘hello’ in Hreki.”

Ozreal smiled. “Then it’s lucky you have me here, isn’t it?”

Ozreal took the book over to a snug in the corner of the room. He curled up on a bed of pillows and held the book close to his face, mumbling to himself as he read. The fact that we would soon know where the Greye guild lived set me on edge. I focussed on Ozreal so intently that I could hear the sounds of the pages when he turned them.

It seemed that Brian shared the same excitement as me, because as the hours wore on he paced around the library floor. I decided that I couldn’t just sit there and wait.

Instead, I walked over to the ‘construction’ section and found a row of books devoted to airships. One was a book on zeppelins that was written by a name I recognised instantly.

The Art of Zeppelin Construction by Lastor Bombraid

This was huge. As I read through the book I found that Lastor had committed to paper a goldmine of information on building a zeppelin. I realised that the airship I had seen moored to the walls of Iskarg was just one type of zeppelin. That was the type a wealthy merchant would commission, but you could make airships out of cheaper materials. My excitement grew as I flicked through the book until I came to the last page. There, I found a blueprint for Lastor Bombraid’s Zeppelin.

Ability Gained – Construction

A Tinker doesn’t just make bombs and stab things. A tinker who puts his mind to it can create anything; a siege tower, an airship, a steam-powered butler. With the right skills and enough CR, you can make things that are truly powerful.

Note: to construct things, you must have the blueprint.

This was it; this was the ability I had been waiting for all this time. My third ability slot had been empty for a while, and along the way I’d rejected the ones offered to me, such as forager. Now, though, I had found the ability that would round off my class.

Item Received – Lastor Bombraid’s Cheap Zeppelin Blueprint

As I started to imagine all the things I was going to build, Brian stormed across the library to me. His eyes were lit up.

“We’ve got it,” he said. “Ozreal’s found them.”

Chapter Nineteen

We were in the common room of the Tinkers guild house. It had once been a living room, but we’d removed the homely furniture and replaced it with something more suitable. We all sat around a table big enough to seat twenty people, although there were only five of us there today.

“So let’s run through it again,” I said, looking at Ozreal.

The old mage leaned forward with his elbows on the table and his fingers interlocked.

“As I suspected, the book we found was written by the Greyes.”

“Actually, I found the book and I suspected that they wrote it,” said Brian.

Ozreal shrugged. “Let’s call it a team effort. Anyhow, my Hreki was a little rusty, but I was able to translate it well enough.”

“So you know where the Greyes are?” said Smoglar. His face was smudged by charcoal. Since he had started blacksmithing again, the dwarf had perked up.

“Yes,” said Ozreal.

Smoglar leaned forward. “Great, then let’s go.”

“It’s not that simple,” answered Brian. “The Greyes built their stronghold in the Assipian Peaks, a mountain range a few hundred miles north-west.”

“What is it with these guilds and their mountains?” said Smoglar. “The Serpents have Dreadmount, the Greyes have the Assipian Peaks. Maybe we should have found a mountain for our guild house.”

“With our CR balance,” I said. “We’d be lucky to build it on a hill.”

“Where is the banker anyway?” said Feidan, who until now had been quiet.

“I don’t trust him,” said Smoglar.

“I don’t either,” I answered. “But that puts us in a position of power. As long as you don’t give someone your trust, they can’t betray it. The fact is that we had no choice other than to take his CR. If not, there was no way we could have made the guild, and we wouldn’t have gotten access to the library. Now, fellas, let’s get back to the matter at hand. Brian?”

The giant nodded. “A journey of a few hundred miles is no laughing matter on foot, but it would be doable if that were the only difficulty. Unfortunately, it gets worse. The Assipian Peaks lay beyond the Smogashe Valley.”

“That’s just great,” said Smoglar, and pounded the table with his fist.

“Careful,” said Feidan. “This table wasn’t cheap, you know.”

“It looks it,” said Smoglar.

“What’s so bad about Smogashe Valley?” I asked.

This time, Ozreal answered. “It’s a rarely-travelled place marked by craters where lava from the Assipian volcanoes leaks out. It’s not a nice place, Janus. Even the air in Smogashe is unsafe. It knocks off HP when you breathe it.”

“Which leaves us in a predicament,” said Brian.

We all sat in silence for a minute while we absorbed the news. I had never heard of Smogashe, but I wasn’t surprised that the Greyes would build their guild in such a hostile place. They were the most secretive guild in the game, and it made sense that they would make it difficult to get to them.

“So if we can’t walk through Smogashe,” I said, “that leaves us one option.”

Everyone around the table looked at me. I knew that what I was about to suggest was crazy, but it was the only way.

“I’m listening,” said Ozreal.

“Well, there is another way to get there. We build a zeppelin.”

Smoglar looked at me, incredulous. “And do you know anyone who can build an airship?”

I nodded. “I do. I know him very well.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out Lastor Bombraid’s Zeppelin Blueprint. I unrolled it across the table for the rest of them to see.

“If we get the materials, I can build it.”

***

Like everything in Re:Fuze, zeppelin construction was not as intricate in-game as it was in the real world. It was still tough. According to the blueprint, we would need a rudder, engines and a ballonet. I had no idea what a ballonet was at first, but I learned that it was the giant bulbous balloon that kept zeppelins in the air.

That afternoon I left the guild house and walked into Iskarg. I strolled down the cobbled streets and looked in the window of each shop that I passed. I saw potions shops, armourers, and a store that sold herbs that was named ‘New Age Leafs.’ Finally, I found the store I needed.

The sign above the door read ‘Derek Acrinous; Tailor and General Merchant.’ Unlike the others, this shop wasn’t open. The window was dark, and a sign outside it read ‘Closing Down – Everything must go.’

I went inside and found a man placing his stock into boxes. The shop floor was littered with cardboard, and most of the shelves were bare. The man wore a shirt that was held up by black braces, and his sleeves were rolled up above his elbows. He was a stocky man, and I guessed that at some stage he had been muscly, but somewhere along the way he had let himself go. His arms were marked by scars that had faded and turned pale, and his neck was covered by a blue tattoo.

When I walked in, a bell above the shop door chimed, and the man turned to face me. I looked at the name tag above his head.

Derek Acrinous – Level 45

Wow. I had seen a lot of NPCs in my time, and I’d bartered with my fair share of traders and merchants. I’d never seen one with as high a level as Derek. I wondered how a man would get to level 45 by running a shop. Unless he got exp every time he made a sale, I didn’t see how it was possible.

“We’re closed,” he said.

When he turned to face me I saw that something was wrong. Call it my Appraiser instinct kicking in, but it seemed like sadness was written on his face.

“I’m looking for some things,” I said.

He gave me a grim nod. “We’re all looking for something,” he said. “Not many of us find it.”

“I’m looking to build something, and I was hoping I could trade with you.”

He set a box down on the floor and then put his hands on his hips. “What are you looking for?”

I unrolled the zeppelin blueprint and showed it to him. At first, he blinked in surprise. “I need a rudder, some engines and a ballonet.”

“Most people come here to buy scrap metal or second-hand armour,” he said. “I don’t get many who are trying to make a zeppelin. What do you need it for, anyway?”

“It’s a long story. I don’t suppose you have any of these things?”

“I don’t,” he said. “I have trade links, so I could probably get them if I chose to. But as you probably saw from the sign outside, I’m not going to be in business much longer.”

“How come?”

“It’s a long story,” he said.

Something wasn’t right. There was obviously something wrong with Dereck; I could tell by the way he carried himself. There was slowness to his movement, as if even going through the daily motions of life was too much for him.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Maybe I can help.”

He shook his head. “There’s not many who can help me now.”

“Try me.”

He stepped forward. Up close, his sheer size would have been intimidating, if he didn’t seem so defeated.

“Do you have kids?” he asked.

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Then you wouldn’t understand.”

“Come on,” I said. “Try me.”

He sighed. “I used to run this shop with my daughter, Yennifer. It was a general store, and I sold all kinds of crap. On the side, I had a tailoring business as well. That was my real passion; making clothes. Yennifer thought I was getting soft, but there was something relaxing about it.

“She used to run the store, while I made garments. We had a good partnership going, me and her. She’s a bright lass, and funny, too. Everyone loved her.”

“Did something happen?”

He nodded, and for a second grief took over his face. I could tell he was trying hard to keep it together. “A month ago, a group of fellas from the Serpent guild came into the shop. Started demanding I make them all these fancy clothes with gem sockets and the like. It wasn’t such an unusual request, and I was ready to do business. Only thing was, they didn’t want to pay me. They expected me to work for free.

“When I told them to get lost, they reached for their swords. ‘I used to be a fighter,’ I told them. ‘You think your blades scare me?’ They left after that, but one of them stared at Yennifer and gave her the most disgusting look.

“Later that night, I woke up to banging coming from across the landing. I walked out in my jim-jams and saw the serpents in my house. They were dragging Yennifer away from her room. She was screaming, and that sent me into a frenzy. I grabbed my sword and ran at them. Then one of them, a mage, shot a bolt at me, and it held me in place. I struggled and struggled, but I couldn’t move.”

He looked at the ground for a few seconds, unable to speak.

I reached out and put my hand on his shoulder. “What then?” I asked.

He looked at me, and the sadness was gone, replaced by fury. “They took her,” he said. “Said they were taking her to Dreadmount, and that I’d never see her again.”

Just hearing it made me angry. I already hated the Serpents enough, but it seemed that every story I heard about them made their guild seem much worse. First, there was the fact that Herelius had killed me, and then the tale of how they had betrayed Brian and Smoglar. Now this; kidnapping the innocent daughter of a tailor.

I gritted my teeth. I felt my cheeks burn red with anger. “I’ll help you get her back,” I said.

He looked at me, and his eyes widened in surprise. “You? How are you going to do that?”

“I have business of my own at Dreadmount,” I answered. “But first, I have something I need to do, and I have to build an airship.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Get me the things I need to make the zeppelin,” I said. “And when we fly, I’ll take you with us. I can’t promise when it will be, but once I’ve done what I need to do, we’ll get your daughter back.”

Dereck thought about it for a while. He stuck out his hand, and I reached out and shook it.

“You’ve got a deal,” he said.

Quest Received: Find Derek Acrinous’ Daughter

The tailor’s daughter was kidnapped by Serpents and taken to their guild house in Dreadmount. Derek will get you the parts for the zeppelin if you promise to help him get Yennifer back.

***

I was tired. The sky above me was black, and a cloud passed over it and hid away the stars. Most people in the guild and in Iskarg were in bed, but I couldn’t sleep yet. I stood in the field next to the guild house with the airship materials spread out in front of me. In my hand, I held the blueprint to the zeppelin.

At first, I didn’t know where to begin. Without the Construction ability it would have been impossible, but now that I had it, I knew there had to be a way.

I began to mess with the parts and try to fit them together, but my progress was slow, and I wasn’t sure I was going about it the right way. I held the blueprint in front of me and tried to see how everything fit together.

“You need to hold in your frustration and concentrate more,” said a voice behind me.

I turned to see Ozreal walking across the grass. He had his hood over his head, and it cast a shadow on his face.

“You’re up late,” I said.

“I don’t need much sleep.”

I sighed. “I have the construction ability, but I don’t know how to use it,” I said.

Ozreal nodded. “Close your eyes.”

I looked at him strangely.

“Trust me. Close your eyes.”

I shut my eyes and listened as Ozreal spoke.

“Imagine the blueprint. Picture how the zeppelin looks; the engines firing, the ballonet fixed above them. Imagine all the little parts that need to go together. Got that?”

I nodded.

“Now picture in your mind the materials spread in front of you. Everything is there, Janus. You have the things you need, and you have the skill within you. Imagine the blueprint gliding away from your hands and hovering over the materials. It isn’t just blowing away, though. You’re guiding it. Something within you is making it move.”

It seemed stupid, at first. But as I concentrated, the paper began to shake in my hand. In my mind, I focussed and made it float through the air and hover over the engines and ballonet in front of me. As I did, I felt a glow flow through me. My mind began to expand, and suddenly I didn’t see a confusing blueprint or a mish-mash of spare parts. Instead, I felt them all come together, guided by something innate inside me. I heard the roaring of engines and the clicking of bolts.

I watched as the zeppelin slowly started to form. The materials began to meld with the blueprint, and I felt the cogs of my mind turn. The airship took shape on the grass in front of me. I began to feel weary, as if I wasn’t just imagining it, but building it with my hands. I felt that I really was connecting the parts and moving things around.

“Open your eyes,” said Ozreal.

I knew that if I did, the image would shatter, and I’d be faced with a field full of materials that I didn’t know how to use. I needed to get a move on, though. Time was running out.

“Come on, Janus, open your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, I opened them. Straight away, the air was sucked out of me. I looked at the field in front of me and saw not a collection of parts, but a fully-formed airship. It stood twenty feet tall, and the bulbous ballonet swayed slightly in the wind. It looked nothing like the zeppelin I had seen above the city walls, but it was a thing of beauty none the less. I couldn’t believe that I had created it.

I couldn’t help the wide smile that stretched across my face. I wanted to walk forward and touch the zeppelin, but I was worried that if I did, I’d find that it was made of mist and would just fall apart.

Ozreal put a bony hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

“Well done, Tinker. You’ve done us proud.”

Achievement unlocked: Your First Airship

Construction skill increased by 50% (50% until level 2)

Chapter Twenty

The ballonet of the airship billowed in the wind. I still couldn’t help but stare at it, and I found it hard to believe that I’d made it. And to think that a while ago, I’d been disappointed that I had to be a tinker. I was beginning to think that even if I could go back and change my class, I’d stick with the cards I’d been dealt.

Feidan, Ozreal, Smoglar, and Derick the Tailor stood by the guild house door with their inventory bags in front of them. The airship would make our journey across the land quicker, but we knew we could still be gone a while. Feidan had brewed potions for us all. He told us with a proud smile that they were better than the measly health potions we could buy from shops.

Brian stood with me in front of the airship.

“You sure you’re not coming?” I said.

He nodded. “Someone needs to stay and watch the guild.”

“It’s looking pretty empty right now,” I said.

“I sent a message to the NPCs in Blundow. Pretty soon I imagine we’ll get a bunch of level 5 newbies headed our way. I told Percy to only send the newbies who weren’t looking to join the Serpents.”

“We should think about sending an ambassador to Blundow when we have the manpower,” I said. “All the other guilds do it.”

Brian put a giant hand on my shoulder. “Keep an eye out for Smoglar,” he said.

“I think even one-handed, he can still look after himself.”

“Just make sure he doesn’t start a fight with the Greyes.”

“Take care of yourself, Brian. Don’t blow up the guild house trying to learn alchemy.”

The giant grinned. “And you too. Remember not to blow up any bombs while you’re on the zeppelin. I hear it’s not a wise thing to do.”

Two hours later, we were in the air. I stood at the wheel and steered us on course. We had built a compass into the base of the wheel, and I fixed a world map to a wooden pole a foot away. It was strange, being on the airship. I hadn’t expected how deafening it would be; the roar of the engines when we needed to accelerate, the flapping of the ballonet when a strong wind current hit it.

Smoglar spent the first few hours leaning over the rail and sending a spray of vomit over the sides.  “I’m airsick,” he told me, his face growing pale.

Ozreal leaned against the rail and watched the landscape below us as it flew by. It was only a level 1 zeppelin, which meant that it was too small for Brian to join us. As a level 1 it wasn’t the fastest of airships, either, but it still beat walking.

From time to time I took a moment to watch the scenery below us. We crossed overcrowded forests and hilly plains. At one point we flew over a town that was full of sharply-spired buildings.

“That’s Archminster Mage School,” Ozreal called over, his voice barely rising above the sound of the wind.

Over the next few hours, we passed rivers and streams, mountains and hills. The landscape of Re:Fuze was more varied than I had imagined, and at some points I just wanted to land the airship and go and explore.

We couldn’t do that, though. Time wasn’t on our side, and we needed to get to the home of the Greye guild. As well as that, I was always aware that I had another obligation to fulfil. Dereck paced over the wooden decking of the airship for hours, until the steady rhythm of his footsteps became as much a part of the sounds of our travel as the rippling of the ballonet against the wind.

Smoglar pulled away from the railing and walked across the deck to join me. His face was still pale, but a trace of colour was returning to his cheeks.

“Feeling better?” I asked.

“Don’t suppose we have any beers stowed away on this thing?”

“We’re heavy enough already. I was worried that it wouldn’t be able to carry us, and that we were going to have to throw you overboard.”

Smoglar. “Listen, Janus. I wanted to say thanks. Back at the guild house I was feeling pretty crappy, and truth be told, I thought about leaving the game. I mean, what use is a dwarf with one hand? But after we spoke, I realised I can still do what I want; it’s just going to be  a damn sight harder.”

“Don’t mention it,” I said. “You want to take over for a while?”

Smoglar grabbed the wheel with his hand and turned it, keeping us on a steady course. I knew that soon, the Assipian peaks would loom into view. Before that, though, was Smogashe Valley, a hostile land where even the air was toxic.

I walked across the deck toward Ozreal. The airship hit turbulence, and Smoglar steered to the side to steady it. I almost lost my balance, before managing to catch myself. I needed to increase my agility at some point.

Ozreal turned to face me when  I joined him. “I tried to join the Greye guild once,” he said.

“I thought you were with the Halons?”

“I was, but they were my second choice. The Greyes appealed to me more; I think it was the mystery. Problem is, I had no idea how to join them.”

“So how does anyone become part of their guild?”

“There’s something special about them,” said Ozreal. “The magic the Greyes use, it’s not like most mages. Any conjurer can shoot a fireball or an ice blast. Even arcane magic isn’t too difficult to master, as long as you put the time into levelling up. But the Greyes have something else, some other elemental force.”

“And what is it?”

Ozreal shrugged. “Wish I knew.”

“Guys, we have guests looking to come aboard,” called Smoglar.

I turned around and saw what he meant. In the sky surrounding the airship, five winged creatures hovered. They looked like overgrown dragonflies, except they had tails that stretched out to double the size of their bodies. Their wings looked thicker than the material of our ballonet, and their eyes were black and stuck out from their heads. The buzzing sound they made cut through the noise of the wind and the hum of the engines.

One of them floated up to the ballonet, using its tail to steer through the air. When it was level with the ballonet it raised its tail, and I saw that it was pointed at the end. This wasn’t good. As I sprinted across the deck, the creature jabbed its tail into the ballonet. I heard a hissing sound, and I felt a sense of dread spread through me.

“They’re going to take us down,” I said. “Smoglar, try and steer us away.”

The dwarf turned the wheel, but a sharp current of air hit the ship. He grunted as he tried to manoeuvre us in a different direction, but the wind was too strong.

“We need to knock them out of the air, but I can’t use my bombs,” I said.

Ozreal held his palms in front of him. A shimmer of purple light gathered. With a grunt, he cast it out toward the winged creatures. It blasted one head-on and charred its wings, but the others moved out of the way.

All of them hovered by the ballonet now. They raised their tails, and one by one they struck the bulbous material. I heard the sound of the ballonet popping.

The airship lurched and then started on a steep decline. I felt wind rush against my face. Trying to keep my balance, I joined Smoglar at the wheel. As much as we tried to steady it, it spun out of control. The airship slanted downwards and began a descent toward the ground.

I tried to steady the airship, but it was no use. The engines roared, and then one by one the noises faded, and I realised that they had broken. It was no use; we were going to crash. Going at the speed we were, we’d be dead as soon as we hit the ground.

As the ground rushed toward us, I looked around. There had to be something I could do, but the wheel didn’t respond to anything.

Just as we plunged toward the surface of the land, I saw a yellow light envelope us. It spread around the airship. I turned and saw that Feidan held his hands out in front of him, and his face was set in concentration.

I realised that he’d cast a shield over us, but I didn’t know if it would be enough to save us on impact. I didn’t have time to wonder any further, because the ground loomed into view, and I heard an almighty roar as the airship crashed.

Chapter Twenty-One

The wreckage of the airship was strewn all around us. I heard a ringing noise in my head, and my temples thudded. At first, I thought that I had died and that I was viewing the wreckage through the afterlife, and that soon I would wake up in a pod outside the game world. When I heard Smoglar groan, I knew that I had survived.

I checked my stats and saw that my health bar was barely a quarter full. Feidan’s shield had kept us alive, but it hadn’t been able to save the airship. The ballonet laid spread across the ground a few yards away from me. It was deflated now, and it looked like a skin that had been shed by some enormous snake.

One by one, my friends climbed out of the wreckage. I was relieved to see that we’d all made it, but that quickly turned to dismay when I looked around us. The landscape that surrounded us was gloomy and grey. The surface was made of cold stone that rose and fell, with crags sharp enough to tear through bone.

I took a deep breath. As I did, a message filled my screen.

5HP lost (Total: 30/ 152)

The air was damaging me when I breathed it, and that meant one thing; we had crash-landed in Smogashe Valley. I opened my inventory and took out my healing potions. Feidan had given us 3 each. The liquid inside looked like a normal potion, except that flecks of silver floated in it. I drank it back and watched as my health bar rose to 152. No sooner had I done that, than I received another message.

5HP lost (Total: 147/ 152)

At this rate, we’d burn through all our health potions in less than thirty minutes. After that, we’d be able to do nothing but wait as our health slowly drained, burned away by the toxic air around us.

“Drink your potions,” I told everyone.

Ozreal had a graze on his forehead, and blood trickled down one of Feidan’s nostrils. Smoglar seemed unhurt, but I looked at his hand and saw that he held an empty vial of potion.

“I’ll give you props for building the airship,” he said. “But the landing was a little bumpy.”

“What now?” asked Feidan.

I looked around me. It was a barren landscape. Thirty metres away, I saw red globules of lava spit into the air. Cracks ran through the stone in places, no doubt made by an eruption of the volcano somewhere beneath us.

In the distance, rising tall over the grey stone, were the peaks of a mountain. It was hard to make out clearly, but I was sure I saw a building on top of the mountain. Below it, leading a trail through the stone, were steps. It must have been the Assipian peaks, and the building above was the home of the Greye guild.

“How far away do you think that is?” I said.

“Ten miles, as the crow flies,” answered Ozreal.

“And how far away is it in dwarf steps?” asked Smoglar.

5HP lost (Total: 142/ 152)

“A hell of a lot longer,” I said. “We need to move. Now.”

The rough terrain made travelling difficult. We walked for hours over rocks that dug into our feet and crossed hills of hard stone that rose without warning. My stamina started to wear and I heard Smoglar grunt beside me, but I knew that we had to press on. After two hours I had used all of my potions and my HP had started its decline. There was no going back now; we either made it to the peaks, or we died in Smogashe.

“Don’t suppose you could whip up another batch of the old elixir?” said Smoglar, looking at Feidan.

The healer had found the walking more difficult than the rest of us. His cheeks burned red, and he looked like he was struggling to breathe. Looking at his HP bar, I saw that it had almost fallen to halfway.

“It’d take me hours,” said Feidan, panting. “And we have barely one hour, at most.”

Dereck seemed to be the most resolute of us all, and the walking didn’t tire him. Although his health bar drained, he made no complaint. That said, I did note that his health dropped slower than the rest of us. He was levels above us, so the damage he lost had less of an effect. I wondered how a tailor would get to such a high level. He told me that he’d once been an adventurer, but I found it hard to imagine.

Soon, we reached the steps of the peak. They were square steps cut into the stone of the mountain. Some were uneven, but they were in a perfect condition. It seemed that people rarely climbed the steps that led to the Greye guild base.

“This is it,” I said, as another message flashed on my screen and told me I’d lost HP. “At the top of here, we’ll find the Greyes.”

“How many steps do you think there are?” asked Smoglar.

“Too many,” said Ozreal. “But the longer we wait, the harder it will be.”

As I put my foot on the first step, I heard a noise. From somewhere nearby came the sound of footsteps on the stone. The noises grew louder until I heard something else; the gnashing of teeth.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones who want to find the Greyes,” said Smoglar.

A pack of creatures approached to our right. They looked like overgrown lizards, moving on all fours in such a way that they seemed to slither over the ground. Every so often one of them would open its mouth and show us teeth that looked like they could bite through metal. Their skin glowed red as though it was aflame. I stared at one of them and appraised it.

Lavaguana – Level 45

HP: 2360 / 2360

Strengths: Fire

Weakness: Ice

“Anyone got any ice cubes with them?” I asked.

One of the lavaguanas picked up its pace and slithered toward us, covering the ground at a speed I hadn’t thought it capable of. It was clear they weren’t here to wish us a safe journey. I equipped a screw bomb in one hand, though I suspected that since their strength was fire, there was a little chance an explosion would have an effect. I readied my dagger in my other hand.

“I’m sweating HP here,” said Derek. “And you lot are worse. One bite from one of those things and you’re done for.”

“I don’t mind a fight,” I said, looking at everyone. “But this is one we can’t win.”

“So what, then?” asked Smoglar.

Ozreal answered him. “Isn’t it obvious, dwarf? We run.”

As the lavaguanas closed in on us, Feidan held out his hands and covered us with a shield.

“I can’t keep this up for long,” he said. “That’s why I didn’t use it earlier; I have less mana left than a forest imp. It should be just enough to get us to the top.”

A race began, with Derek and Feidan leading the way, and Smoglar, Ozreal and I following. We sprinted up step after step with the sound of the lavaguanas’ claws scraping behind us. My stamina started to drain. Looking up, I saw that we had barely covered a quarter of the stone staircase.

The creatures behind seemed unaffected by their pursuit, and they gained ground on us with each step. Feidan grunted, and the shield above us began to flicker.

“I’m down to the last dregs of mana,” he said.

“Keep going,” I yelled.

We carried on running. Smoglar leapt up the steps like a dwarf possessed, while Ozreal took two steps at a time with his long strides. The pattering of claws on stone followed us all the way.

Feidan let out a sigh, and the shield above us disappeared completely.

5HP lost (Total: 70 / 152)

With the shield gone and no potions to drink, I knew that we were done for. I probably had enough HP to make it to the top of the steps, but the creatures were catching up to us, and one bite would finish me off. I had to do something.

I stopped and turned to face the lavaguanas.

“What the hell are you doing, tinker?” said Smoglar.

“Keep running,” I told them.

“They’re going to mince you up,” said the dwarf.

I took the Old Serpent’s Sting out of my bag and handed it to Ozreal. He seemed reluctant to take it at first, but I pressed it into his hand.

“I’m going to try something,” I said. “But if this doesn’t work, you have to keep going. Take the dagger to the Greyes and have them destroy it.”

5HP lost (Total: 65 / 152)

“We’re not leaving you, Janus,” said Smoglar.

I fixed him a stern stare and then spoke to him, my voice resolute. “This is about more than just us. If we all die here, the dagger will be left on the steps for anyone to find it. That can’t happen. Run, and make sure you get to the top.”

“But-”

Smoglar didn’t have time to finish his sentence, because Dereck grabbed him and pulled him away.

“We’ll be waiting for you,” said Ozreal.

With that, I listened as my friends ran up the steps. They had to make it, and I hoped this would give them enough time.

The lavaguanas were five steps away from me now. Seeing that I had stopped, they moved forward warily, slithering up the stone. Their eyes were fixed on me, and I saw forked tongues curl out of their mouths.

I stared at them. Another message flagged up to tell me I had lost HP, but I ignored it. I tuned every out around me until I could see nothing but the beasts advancing toward me.

I opened my mouth and started to speak. I imagined how the lavaguanas would sound when they communicated with each other, and I pictured myself making the same sounds. I felt my words twist into their minds.

Suddenly, the lead lavaguana stopped. Seeing that, the rest of them stopped too, until they all just sat and stared at me. When  I saw that they weren’t going to advance, I breathed a sigh of relief.

Animal Whisper successful

Animal Whispering increased by 20% (35% until level 3)

Seeing that the creatures weren’t going to attack me, I turned and ran up the steps. I was racing against my own health bar now, and every ten metres closer to the summit I got, my health dropped.

When I finally reached the top step my HP was just 10, and I knew I wouldn’t make it. My stamina dropped to zero, and I lost my balance, falling onto the stone and hearing my nose crack.

Then a hand grabbed me and dragged me to my feet. I saw Smoglar in front of me. Behind him, resting at the top of the mountain, was the home of the Greyes.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The air at the top of the peak was cold, but at least it didn’t drain my HP as I gulped it. I got to my feet and looked around. We stood on the peak of the Assipian Mountain. Smogashe valley was behind us, and I watched as the lavaguanas scuttled down the steps and then across the hard crags. A shot of lava lit the sky, making a slow arc until it reached its peak and then fell back to the earth.

If I took the health that my friends had left, tipped it in a vial and then drank it, it still wouldn’t have been enough to fill mine completely. It was lucky that the lavaguanas were gone because in our current state we couldn’t handle even one of them between us.

I looked beyond my friends and at the home of the Greyes not far away. It truly was amazing. On either side of the entrance were two giant statues of men wearing robes that covered their eyes. In their hands they held torches, and I saw that flames twisted at the ends, burning strong despite the winds around us. The mouth of the structure was dark and gave little clue to what lay beyond. The guild house itself was made of stone and it stretched high up above us. Ivy was twisted on the surface, and etchings were carved into the rock. It gave it the feel of a primitive temple, although I knew that the Greyes hadn’t been around that long.

“Let’s go inside,” said Smoglar. “I’m freezing.”

We followed a path that was cut into the surface of the mountain. It made a slight curve over the stone and up to the guild house entrance. As we approached, I saw that a man was sat outside. Despite the cold, he only wore a robe that was in tatters, and his bare feet stuck out from the end of it. His face was covered in dirt.

I looked at him, and I realised it was the beggar I had seen back in Dry Gulch, and again in Iskarg. The first time, he’d asked me for money and I had obliged. Was he following me?

“Spare some CR?” he said.

“How the hell did you get up here?” I asked.

The beggar shrugged his shoulders. “If you need something enough, you’ll make the journey.”

I didn’t understand. If it had taken us an airship to get here, how had the beggar made it on foot, and how could he possibly have gotten through Smogashe valley?

That was a question for later. I looked ahead and saw the shadows of the Greye guild house. The darkness seemed to cling to the doorway as though it was made of something dense, and I couldn’t see beyond it. From inside, I heard a humming noise.

I took 10CR and some rat meat and skin out of my bag and handed it to him.

“You can cook the meat and sell the skin,” I said. “Good luck to you.”

“And good luck to you, Janus.”

I turned to face him. I had never told him my name. My pulse started to fire, and for a brief second, I wondered if he was a Serpent assassin sent to kill me. But if that was the case, he could have tried it in Dry Gulch or Iskarg, and he hadn’t.

“The Greyes know we’re here,” said Ozreal, peering into the darkness ahead.

The sound of humming grew until I realised that it was made by a collection of human voices. I turned away from the beggar and took a step toward the entrance. Now that we were here, there was something strange about it. I was aware that the Greyes had purposefully made their home difficult to find, and that they might not welcome my presence here.

“There’s always the chance they’ll be hostile,” I said, facing my friends.

“If that’s the case,” said Smoglar, “It’s too late for that. We’re on their doorstep.”

“I suspect that if they meant us harm, we’d have felt it already. The Greye guild doesn’t procrastinate,” said Ozreal.

This was it, then. It was time to meet the Greye guild that I had heard so much about. I climbed the final step in front of me and then stood at the entrance. The darkness was so close that I could feel it, yet I still couldn’t see anything beyond. Taking a deep breath, I walked through. It was like breaking a screen of cobwebs, except after I had stepped through it, nothing clung to my skin.

The humming sound abruptly stopped. We found ourselves in a room made of cold stone that had a golden hue to it. The ceiling was fifty feet above us, giving the interior a grand feel. Archways connected cylinder pillars together and supported the structure. Someone had carved symbols into them. I didn’t know what they meant, but their style reminded me of the ones I had seen on the cover of the book in the library.

It was a far cry from the house of the Tinkers guild. The Greyes had built their base in such a way that it seemed like it had been standing for centuries. It felt like it was a natural part of the mountain around it, rather than just a building placed on top.

Across the room where the long floor seemed to end, a chain hung from the ceiling. On the end of it was a giant blue stone that glowed. The chains were wrapped around it, holding it in place, and the edge of the stone was suspended two feet above the stone floor.

On either side of us were small flights of steps that led up to mini archways. When I looked to my left, I saw that robed figures now watched us, with one stood in each archway. To our right was the same thing.

“Why do I suddenly feel trapped?” asked Dereck.

The robes ones made no indication of moving, yet there was something sinister about the way they watched us. I became aware that we’d come here uninvited and probably unwanted, and that the Greye guild might not want to talk to us.

I pulled my dagger out and equipped it. No sooner was it in in my hand than one of the robed figures raised his arm in the air. As he did, a blue light drained from the giant stone suspended from chains. It drifted across the room and soaked into the figure’s fingertips. The figure pointed at me, and I felt my dagger fly out of my hand and then clatter across the room.

Smoglar gripped his axe and Derek held his sword. We looked at each other, realising that in our haste to destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting we’d made a fatal assumption; one that relied on the fact that the Greyes had helped defeat Necrolor. Just because back then they had assisted the Halons, it didn’t mean that the Greyes were a force for good.

The rest of the figures drained blue light from the stone. Seconds later Smoglar’s axe flew from his hands, and Derek lost his grip on his sword. The trinket around Ozreal’s neck was dragged over his head and thrown across the room.

I pulled a bomb out of my bag. Without giving them time to drain from the stone, I lit it. As the fuse burned, I wondered where to throw it. There was a row of the figures on either side of us, and I knew that as soon as I hit one of them, the other row would turn on me. In the end, it didn’t matter which side I chose because the odds were stacked overwhelmingly against us.

I turned to my right and went to throw the bomb. Just as I lifted my arm, I felt the fuse fizzle out and the bomb casing shattered, covering my shoulder in gunpowder.

“You’ll have no need for that today,” said a voice.

Footsteps came from the direction of the entrance and then echoed toward us through the room. I saw a figure come our way, and as they got closer, I realised that it was the beggar. He walked until he was just a few feet away and then drew back his hood.

I had never seen him properly before. Now that I did, I saw that one side of his face was covered in blue tattoos. They weren’t of pictures or symbols but instead were rows of small blue spheres. I didn’t have time to count them, but I guessed that there must have been nearly fifty. With his hood drawn back, he looked much younger, probably around the age of my brother Thomas.

He turned to face the hooded figures who watched us.

“Reveal yourselves,” he said.

I heard a rustling sound as all the figures drew their hoods back at once. When they did, I saw that they were men and women of all ages and all races, from human to elf to dwarf. All of them had blue spheres tattooed on their faces, and the further down the line I looked, the fewer spheres they seemed to have. A man at the end only had one.

“You’re wondering how they took your weapons from you,” said the man.

“We’re wondering a lot of things, beggar,” answered Smoglar. His face was red and he looked ready to right. Although I was glad to see my friend start to return to his old self, this was not the place.

The man ignored Smoglar and instead stared at Ozreal.

“You know, don’t you, mage?” he asked.

Ozreal nodded his head. “I do.”

“Go ahead. You may speak my name.”

“Helblake Crowley.”

Helblake solemnly raised his hands in the air. The room around us was almost silent, save for a faint murmur as the figures watching us began their hypnotic humming again. As Helblake held his arms above him, he gave us an appraising look and then opened his mouth.

“Ding ding ding,” he shouted, smiling at Ozreal. “Ten points to the winner who knows my name!”

The humming stopped, and then I heard the figures around us titter.

“Oh come on,” said Helblake. “Lighten up a little, will you? Hardly anyone finds their way up here, and I’m tired of messing around with this lot. I like a joke from time to time, so what?”

Then he looked around. “Come on guys,” he said. “Don’t you all have things to do? Get to it, chop chop.” He clapped his hands together to hurry his guild members out of the room, and the figures under the archways dispersed.

While the guild around us became a hub of activity, Helblake turned to us and pointed.

“Let me guess,” he said, half-closing his eyes. “Ozreal, Janus, Smoglar, Feidan and Dereck, right?”

I looked at him strangely.

“I must be psychic,” said Helblake.

“Our names are written above our heads,” I said.

“Nothing gets by you, tinker. I also do card tricks and knife throwing. I like to perform for the guild officers sometimes; it helps keep morale up. You wouldn’t believe how much it can sap when you’re so isolated. The lads and lasses have been excited to see you.”

“Excited, how?” asked Feidan.

“We’ve known you were coming for days,” said Helblake. “Yurol spotted your airship a hundred miles beyond Iskarg. Besides, your path has been leading you here for a long time, Janus. I was starting to wonder how long it would take you.”

“What do you mean?” I said.

“You saw me in Dry gulch, and then in Iskarg, remember?”

“I remember,” I said. “So you’ve been following us?”

He nodded. “I have. But come, I can see you’re all in a sorry state. Follow my friends through the arches and they’ll heal you.”

I knew my health bar was worryingly low. For a second I wondered how we were going to leave this place without the airship, but I knew that question would have to wait. Smoglar looked at me warily.

“It’s okay,” said Helblake. “If we wanted to hurt you, you would already be a pile of ash. And I’m sorry about your hand, dwarf. Some of my friends are great healers, but alas, they won’t be able to give you a new hand. The best we can promise is a full health bar.”

“It’s okay,” I said, looking at Smoglar. “We could use some healing.”

We started to walk up toward the archways when Helblake placed his hand on my shoulder. “Not you, Janus. You and I have a lot to talk about. Come.”

As my group walked up to the archways, Helblake walked across the room. I followed him until we stood in front of the blue stone that hung from the ceiling. Far away it had seemed to glow, but as we got closer I saw that it was dull, and it radiated a sense of cold. My friends were gone now, leaving just Helblake and I stood in the room.

“You’re here about the dagger, aren’t you?” he said.

“You know about that?”

“The Greyes have known about it for a while. We knew that it was lost, but had no idea when it would resurface. We never imagined it would fall into the hands of a tinker.”

“I was a little surprised myself.”

Helblake turned and stared at me. “But you’re not just a tinker, are you?” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s so much more to you, Janus.”

There were so many mysteries in Re:Fuze, and I was beginning to have my fill of them. It seemed that everyone wanted to talk cryptically, from the mystery viewer who watched me, to the note that told me to find Ozreal. For once, I just wished someone would speak plainly.

“I can see you want answers,” said Helblake. “I might not have them all, but maybe I can illuminate something. Tell me, what’s your motivation?”

I wondered what he meant. I had a quest log full of things to do, and I wondered if he could see them. I decided that there was no point hiding anything from him.

“I want to kill Herelius Rouge.”

“No small feat,” said Helblake. “But that’s your goal; not your motivation. Why do you want to kill him?”

“He murdered me on my first playthrough,” I said.

“You were called Chimera at the time, weren’t you?”

How did he know that? Did he know everything? I nodded. “That was my name, but it was short-lived.”

“So you are driven by hate, is that fair to say?”

I guessed I was. I hated Herelius for killing me when I was a newbie. It was the sheer arrogance of it, and the complete lack of empathy. I hadn’t asked to stumble on his conspiracy, and at the time, all I had wanted was to play the game. He could have spared me and let me walk away, but he chose to kill me. I felt my cheeks flush with anger.

“Fury won’t take you very far,” said Helblake, “except down a path filled with darkness. But you’ve heard those words already, haven’t you? There’s something in you, Janus; a light. But I need to see if it’s the right kind.”

The stone in front of us started to glow. I heard a sound come from it, but it wasn’t a hum this time. It was more like the sound of hundreds of voices whispering all at once, so many that they drowned out each other’s words. I sensed danger from the stone, and I backed away from it.

“When we choose people to join us, we make them touch this mineral. We call it the Judgement Stone. Now, we’re not stupid. We know it doesn’t have a mind of its own. Yet it has powers. Those who wish to join the Greyes must touch the stone.”

Putting my hand on the stone seemed like the last thing I’d want to do. “And then what happens?” I asked.

“Two things, mainly,” answered Helblake. “Some who touch it, die. Those are the ones who have blackness in them, and the stone rejects it and sucks it out of them, taking their life-force along with it. And then there are others. You saw my hooded friends in the arches. They have all touched the stone, and the rock accepted what was within them.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“There’s something lurking within you, Janus. Something that usually only a Greye could have. You’ve seen our powers, have you not?”

I thought back to when the hooded figures had made our weapons fly from our hands. The Greyes obviously wielded a magic that few in Re:Fuze could harness.

“I don’t understand what you are,” I said.

Helblake looked solemnly at the ground. “We have a power that you can’t pick from a skill tree. It's something you’d never stumble on, and it has to be within you to begin with.”

“You all seem like overblown magicians,” I said.

“We draw force from the things around us. A Greye can harness the resources of the world and use them for their own ends. See this stone flag?” he said.

He pointed at the floor. The stone was cut into square blocks that were black in colour, and they were spread across the room. Helblake put his hands above one square and closed his eyes. A mist began to gather above the stone, and a light seeped up from it and mingled with Helblake’s hands. Then, a thin sheet of rock seemed to form around him.

“Try to hit me,” he said.

I looked at him, confused.

“Just try to punch me. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing, but-”

Helblake sighed. “Janus, you need to abandon that sense of reason you carry so carefully with you. It’s a weight heavier than all the stones around us. For one second, just forget it, and do what I say. Try to hit me.”

I guessed that if someone asked you to punch them, then it was only fair that you agreed. I made a fist and then threw a punch at Helblake. My hand got within an inch of his face when I hit something solid. I pulled my hand away, grunting in pain.

“The stone has made a shield around me, one which I drew from it. Now look at it.”

I looked down at the stone square in front of Helblake. Where a minute ago it had seemed unbreakable, now it had cracks running through it.

“This is the power, and the curse, of the Greyes. We draw strength from the things around us, and in return, we leave weakness. I could draw the flame from a fire and wield it in my palm, but the fire I drew from would extinguish.”

“So you can take the properties from things you see, and you drain them?”

“In layman’s terms, I guess that’s how you’d describe it.”

“Again, what does this have to do with me?” I asked.

“You have our power in you, tinker. You aren’t here just to make bombs filled with screws, and airships that crash.”

“Hey, there was nothing wrong with the airship. It’s was those bloody creatures.”

Helblake held a hand in the air. “I want you to touch the stone,” he said, nodding at the giant blue gem. “See if you can take our powers.”

I looked at it. Voices still whispered from the rock, and the cold that seeped from it grew stronger. I didn’t want to touch it.

“I thought you said people can die when they touch it?”

“Those with black hearts don’t fare well when they touch it. Which is why I wanted to know your motivation. You said it was revenge, but that is only the surface. Beneath the depths, I don’t think you desire revenge.”

I couldn’t agree with him on that. I wanted to kill Herelius Rouge more than anything. Every time I thought of him, I felt hate bubble inside me.

“You have to take a chance, Janus. You’re here for a reason.”

“Yeah,” I answered. “To get you to destroy the dagger.”

He shook his head. “Nothing will happen until you touch the stone.”

I looked at the stone again. I knew there was a chance that I could die by touching it, but all the same, I knew Helblake was right. I had shaped the path that led me here, but hands had pushed me along the way. There was a reason I’d been sent back into Re:Fuze, and there must have been a reason the dagger was given to me. If not, it could have been given to any other player in the game. Someone had chosen me.

I had to touch the stone. The power the Greyes held was too tremendous, and too tempting. Without it, how would I ever be strong enough to face Herelius? I could build the biggest bomb and fill it with thousands of screws, but the Serpent leader would still be too powerful.

It was now or never. The stone glowed brighter. It begged me to place my hands on it. I knew I had to cast all my fears aside and just do it.

I stepped forward. Voices whispered in my ear, hundreds of them all at once, but my brain couldn’t process the words. As I lifted my hand toward the stone, cold wrapped around my fingers. It slithered over my skin and then wound deep inside me, chilling my bones and slowing the blood in my veins.

I took a deep breath and placed my hand on the stone. A shard of ice stabbed through me and knocked my breath out of me. Voices screamed in my head. I realised they were repeating the same words over and over again, but in different voices and at different speeds.

“Wrought by the men whom the shadows obey, in their home high up in the peaks.”

“They take the strength from the world around, and what they leave behind is weak.”

A flash of light blinded me. It poured through my eye sockets, into my mouth and into my ears, until it filled me. I couldn’t breathe and I was frozen in place, and I felt like my whole body was filling it light until I would burst. And then it flashed again, knocking me away from the stone and sending me flying across the room.

I was dead. I had to be. Everything around me was pitch black, and I couldn’t feel my arms or legs. I was going to wake up back in my pod, and the game would be over.

And then I heard the sound of clapping. It was joined by the echo of footsteps that grew louder. My vision began to come back, and I saw Helblake walking across the room toward me.

“It seems the stone accepted you,” he said.

Ability Gained: Power of the Greyes.

You have gained a rare 4th ability, and you can now use the force of the Greyes. Their power lies in balance, and everything you draw strength from, you will leave weaker. Use it sparingly.

Note: This ability is not optional.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Helblake led us into his chamber. Although he was the guild leader his own quarters were modest, and he had only a bed and a bookshelf.  Three torches were on the wall, but only one burned. Helblake focussed on the burning one and drew some of the fire from it, and with a flick of his wrist, he lit the others.

“The Greye power isn’t about parlour tricks and lighting torches,” said Helblake, sitting down on the edge of his bed. “But it will take you a while to master even the most basic of drains. Drawing the energy from something doesn’t just weaken the object; it tires you too. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you, Janus.”

“Don’t I need a blue stone, like the one in your entrance?”

Helblake shook his head. “We use the stone because it amplifies our powers, but it isn’t necessary.”

While the rest of our group took seats on the floor of the room, Smoglar stood by the door. After they had been healed, Helblake summoned them to join us.

Smoglar eyed me warily. “You look different,” he said.

I nodded. “I’ve had a haircut.”

I walked to the centre of the room and set my inventory bag down. I looked at each of my friend’s faces, before settling my gaze on Helblake.

“Shall we get down to business?” I said.

I began to loosen the strings on my bag. I had just opened it when Helblake held a hand in the air.

“I can’t help you with this,” he said.

Smoglar took two steps forward. “We didn’t come here for your hospitality, you know,” he said. “And it wasn’t easy going through Smogashe.”

Helblake nodded. “I know why you came; you want me to destroy the dagger.”

“We can’t let the Serpents get it. We have to end this here and now,” I said.

Helblake shook his head. “The dagger is far beyond my powers,” he said.

Ozreal stroked his chin with his fingers. “The Serpent’s Sting was forged here.”

“It was,” said Helblake. “But not by me. It was forged when the Greyes were much more powerful. I may have a handle on the Greye Power, but I’m a mere novice compared to the Greyes who came before me.”

“Can’t you try?” I asked. I hadn’t come all this way to be turned down.

“If I tried to drain the power from the dagger, I might get some of it, but I’m not strong enough to get it all. And the little I did take from it, would corrupt me.”

“So you can’t help us, then?” I asked.

Helblake stared at me. “You’ll leave here with far more than you came with, Janus.”

It was true; by touching the stone and surviving, I had been given a fourth ability. The potential of it seemed endless, but I knew it would take years to master it. Regardless, I knew that we couldn’t leave here with the dagger still intact. It was becoming a burden to me, weighing me down with each step.

Feidan stood in the corner of the room near the book shelf. He traced his fingers over the spines of the books, then turned to face us.

“So what, then? We’ve failed? We can’t destroy it?”

Helblake stood up. For a moment, he seemed angry. “Have you learned nothing?”

“I haven’t even spoken with you until now,” said Feidan, with irritation in his voice.

“I mean the tinker,” said Helblake, looking at me. “You won’t always get the answers where you expect to find them. Your quest doesn’t just end at the top of a mountain.”

“I need to level up my Greye ability, don’t  I?” I said.

Helblake nodded. “Yes. But that won’t be enough. There is someone else who can help you. A man capable of creating something that, combined with what you will learn, will be powerful enough to destroy the dagger.”

I knew who he meant straight away. It was a name that I had heard a few times in my travels, and I even had it written in my quest log. The force required to destroy the dagger would be tremendous. Only one man had the knowledge of how to create something like that.

“Lastor Bombraid,” I said.

“Lastor who?” said Derek, confused.

“The epic tinker hasn’t been seen for years,” said Helblake, “Yet it’s no secret where he is. The Serpents hold him in a dungeon in Dreadmount, deep in the bowels of the mountain.”

“We need to get him, don’t we?” said Smoglar. “We need to go to the bloody Serpent’s house and knock on their door.”

“It’ll take more than a knock,” said Helblake.

With that, he walked to the door.

“Wait,” I said. “I have questions.”

Helblake shook his head. “I’ve told you all that I can, and we have given you all we have to give. You’ll have to find the answers yourself now, Janus. Practice your ability. Forge your way.”

“So that’s it?” said Smoglar, looking around. “We come all this way for a few wise words that I could find in a cracker?”

“More than that,” I answered him. “I’ll explain later.”

“You have to go now,” said Helblake. “Time isn’t on your side. The Serpents won’t keep Lastor Bombraid as a prisoner for long; they have much bigger designs for him.”

“How are we supposed to get back to Iskarg?” said Feidan.

Helblake closed his eyes. The torches on the walls seemed to flicker as he concentrated, and a gust of wind blew through the room. Gradually, a sphere of light took form in the centre, and then it grew to the size of a man.

“I have portals that lead to the points in the map I tend to visit. You can use this one,” said Helblake. “Here's a warning to you, though. As you walk through it, don’t touch the sides. I’m told it burns.”

I suddenly felt warmth for this man. As cryptic as he was, I felt he had good in him.

“Thank you, Helblake,” I said.

He nodded. “Good luck, Janus. Our paths might cross sooner than you think.”

As we all collected our things and prepared to walk through the portal, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry I was leaving the Greye guild. Something told me that I would never get the chance to come back. As I prepared to step through, Helblake grabbed my arm.

“A battle is coming, Janus. Your story is still beginning, but you are reaching the critical part of it, and I fear that sorrows await you. Become strong, and face them head on. Now get back to your guild.”

Quest Updated: Destroy the Dagger

Lastor Bombraid is being held prison in Dreadmount, and you will need him to help destroy the Old Serpent’s Sting.

Chapter Twenty-Four

It seemed that no sooner had we stepped through the portal, we found ourselves on the streets of Iskarg. The portal opened in an alleyway next to the inn. A beggar sat against the wall, and when he saw a tinker, a dwarf, a healer, a mage and a tailor appear from nowhere, he jerked back in surprise. I looked at him half expecting him to be Helblake Crowley in disguise, but he wasn’t. I took CR5 out of my bag and handed it to him. He took it from me, got up and then stumbled in the direction of the inn doors.

Beside me, Smoglar grunted and rubbed his arm. “Bloody hell that burns,” he said.

Ozreal shook his head. “Well, he did warn you not to touch the sides.”

“What now?” asked Feidan.

Dereck tapped me on the shoulder. “What about Yennifer?” he said. “The airship’s busted, so what now? You made me a promise, Janus.”

I nodded at him. “We’ll find her,” I said. “You heard Helblake as well as I did. Our path leads to Dreadmount.”

“I’m ready,” said Smoglar. “Let’s go and bust down their doors.”

I laughed. “Let’s go and see Brian first and see how he’s getting on. This is a trip we should probably pack for.”

Truth be told, I didn’t relish the prospect of going to the Serpent guild home. Dreadmount wasn’t the warmest of names, and I knew that many in the Serpent guild would be levels higher than us. I had earned a 4th ability from the Greyes, but I still had no idea how to use it, and Helblake had been annoyingly vague about it.

As we left Iskarg and walked across the plains to our guild house, I saw that there were people in the yard. When we got closer, I realised that four mannequins stood in the garden near the barn. Two were left alone, but a man and a woman swung broadswords at the others. I looked at them, but I didn’t recognise their names.

Yelpen – Warrior Level 5

SycophantZ – Warrior Level 6

When they saw us, the man held his sword by his side and nodded.

“It’s an honour to meet you,” he said, glancing at our faces. His voice sounded young.

“An honour? I’ve never heard that before,” said Smoglar.

SycophantZ, the woman, spoke to her friend. “Stand up straighter when the officers are around.”

The man straightened up and put his hand next to his forehead.

“You don’t have to salute us,” I said. “This isn’t the army.”

“No,” called out a familiar voice nearby. “But we’ll need one soon.”

Brian stood in the doorway of the farmhouse, slouching slightly so that he didn’t hit his head on the frame. He took two long strides across the grass. He reached out and pulled Smoglar into a hug.

“Good to see you, old friend.”

“You act like we’ve been gone years,” said the dwarf. “You’re getting sentimental in your old age. We’ve only been gone a few days, at most.”

Brian looked at him strangely. “A few days? It’s been a week. I wondered what the hell had happened. I thought about sending an eagle with a message, but I knew it wouldn’t get there.”

A week? What was the giant talking about? The airship journey had taken just over two days, and we’d only spent a night in the Greye guild. Then I realised what had happened; using the portal must have played with time.

“Who are the newbies?” said Feidan, glancing at the warriors. They had taken up their swords and were mercilessly pounding the mannequins.

“A few days after you left, people started arriving,” said Brian. “Seems Percy has been busy in Blundow. We’ve got twenty new faces around here.”

I couldn’t believe it. I had hoped our guild would start to grow, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. We’d have to look at extending the guild house before long.

“Listen,” said Brian. “It’s good to see you, but I’m afraid we have bad tidings. Come inside, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

We walked into the farmhouse and went into the common room. The meeting table was in the centre of the room, and various vials filled with dull-coloured liquids filled them.

“Been practicing your alchemy?” said Feidan, picking up a vial and shaking it.

“A lot of practicing, but not much success.”

“What’s that meant to be, puddle water?” said Smoglar, glancing at a bottle.

Brian fixed his friend a stern stare. “Dwarf poison,” he said. “So you better watch out when I master it.”

A man sat at the end of the table. I didn’t recognise him, but I saw from his name tag that he was a player character.

Connor Rutland – Warrior Level 41

He had long blonde hair that was matted and ran down to his shoulders. His eyes had a heavy look as if he had seen a lot of trouble over the years. He wore armour that gave the appearance of leather, but it had been dyed red.  A sword was strapped in a sheath at his side. On his neck, he had a blue tattoo that seemed to run down below his armour. I couldn’t see it all, but I didn’t like the part of it that was on view. It was the head of a Serpent, with a forked tongue sticking out. I reached for my dagger.

“Don’t worry,” said Brian, holding his hand up. “You’ve noticed his tattoo, but it’s not what it seems. He…It’s probably better I let him explain.”

The man stood up. Although he was no giant, he was still taller than the rest of us. His body was bulky, but his movements seemed so easy that I guessed he carried a high agility level as well as strength.

Connor nodded at us. “I wasn’t exactly expecting a ‘welcome to the guild’ cake, but there’s no need for your dagger.” He looked at Brian. “Is this the tinker you told me about?”

Brian nodded. “That’s Janus.”

Conner stared at me. “There’s something strange about you, Janus. What is it?”

He looked at me closely, as if he was inspecting every part of me. I knew straight away what he was doing.

“You can stop using Appraiser on me right now,” I said. “You’re in our guild house. I want to know where you’ve come from, and why you’re here.”

“A little distrust is healthy,” said Ozreal, next to me.

Smoglar pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat. Ozreal and Dereck stayed standing, while Feidan left the room and went upstairs to his alchemy lab.

“Just hear him out,” said Brian.

I stood at the end of the table and held Connor’s stare. “I’ve had my fill of Serpents,” I said. “And your neck tattoo doesn’t inspire trust. Why are you here?”

“There’s no hiding it,” began Connor. “I was in the Serpent guild. I was part of it for years, in fact; ever since I hit level 29 and decided I didn’t want to travel alone anymore. But what I once was part of, I’m not anymore. The tattoo might stay there, and I can’t do anything about that, but you’ll see that I don’t have a Serpent symbol next to my name.”

“The absence of a symbol doesn’t mean anything,” I said.

Brian sat down. “Connor arrived a few days ago. He’s really pitched in. He’s helping train the newbies in swordplay.”

“And they’re going to need it,” said Connor.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Connor looked at Brian, who nodded. “Tell them,” said the giant. Suddenly, he looked worried.

“I’ve come here with a gift for you,” said the warrior. “And it would be in your interests to accept it. Trust me, you’ll be thankful I came here.”

“What is it?” said Ozreal.

“The gift of a warning,” answered Connor. “You might have one ex-Serpent at your table, but I’m afraid I have bad news for you. Soon enough, you’re going to have a hundred Serpents on your doorstep.”

All of a sudden, I felt weary. The last few weeks seemed to have gone by in a blur, and I knew I hadn’t rested enough. I pulled a chair out from the table and sat down.

“What are you saying, Connor?”

The warrior pulled his sword from his sheath and laid it on the table in front of him. “The Serpents know where you are, Janus. They know about your guild, and they know that you visited the Greyes. Worse, they know about the dagger.”

I knew that when I had used the Old Serpent’s Sting in Margar dungeon, a map marker had been placed on me which would allow the Serpents to find me. Back then I didn’t have a choice but to use it, since we would have died otherwise.

What really worried me was that the Serpents knew we had visited the Greyes. I didn’t see how they could possibly know that, unless someone had told them. That meant one of two things; either somebody in our party had informed them, or Helblake Crowley had. Either way, someone purporting to be an ally was working against us.

“How did they know we’d gone to the Assipian peaks?” I said. “And how do you know that they know?”

Connor pointed at his blade. “See this?” he said, gesturing at a bloodstain near the tip. “I was travelling toward Iskarg when three Serpents warriors and a mage found me. I was a deserter, you see, and when I lost my Serpent symbol, a bounty was placed on me.”

“We know all about bounties,” said Smoglar.

Connor nodded. “The gang who tried to claim my bounty were overly optimistic of their chances, and didn’t seem to notice that I was 20 levels above them. I made short work of the warriors, but I held the tip of my blade against the mage’s throat and made him talk.”

“Men can get awfully talkative with a blade against their skin,” said Ozreal. “What did they tell you?”

“Two things,” answered Connor. “Both of which will interest you and worry you in equal measure. One: The Serpents have been fed information on every move you have made over the last week.”

I looked around me to see if anyone flinched when they heard this. I hated thinking suspiciously of my friends, but I just didn’t see how else the Serpents had gotten their information.

Connor continued. “Two: The Serpents have assembled a part of their army and given them a task. Namely, to come here and kill you all, destroy your charterstone, and take the dagger.”

“How long do we have?” I said.

Connor looked at me with a grim expression. “Two days, at most.”

***

We didn’t waste a second. As the evening wore on we started to build our defences. Guile, the banker, paid for a host of construction workers from Iskarg to erect perimeter fences. The price was that we would have to promote him to an officer of the guild, but we had no choice.

As the construction workers laboured around us, I stood around the meeting table with my friends.

“This won’t work,” said Smoglar. “We’d be better off leaving.”

The evening sky was darkening, and with every passing minute, I knew that our choices were shrinking. Time was our most precious resource now, worth much more than even a bank full of CR. It was slipping away.

For hours we had debated back and forth. Smoglar thought our best option was to escape, and Feidan agreed with him. I turned to Ozreal for council from time to time, but the mage said little, preferring to take in the conversation flowing around him.

“We have two options,” I said. “One; we leave. We abandon the guild, abandon the newbies who have joined us, and we escape with the dagger. That means we leave everything we’ve worked for behind, and we leave our new guild members, the ones who came to us for support. Then we hope that the Serpents don’t just murder them all.”

“Better they die, than us,” said the dwarf.

“This isn’t like you, Smoglar,” I said.

He held up his stump. “I’m not exactly a warrior anymore, am I? And if I’ve learned anything, it’s this; you can’t win every battle.”

I nodded toward the stairs. They led to the upper rooms, where the newbies were in the bedrooms that we had hastily converted into a barracks. “They’re not just nametags,” I said. “They’re people. Some of them will be like us; they will have spent their last CR on getting into the game, and they won’t get another chance. Do you think the Serpents will spare them?”

“Not a chance,” said Brian, who paced around the room.

“They’ll carve every single one where they stand,” said Connor. “Trust me,  I know. And the ones they don’t get to, they’ll chase around the world map until they find them.”

“This is bigger than just a few new players,” said Ozreal, speaking for the first time. “The item you guard will mean the death of many more if Herelius gets it.”

I nodded. “I know that. But what’s the choice?”

“Like I said,” answered Smoglar. “We leave. Tonight.”

Silence hung in the room. Every man seemed to weigh up his own options. All our paths had led us here, but that didn’t mean we were bound together. I knew that each person in the room had their own quests, their own goals. They had their own fears, too.

I addressed everyone and raised my voice.

“If we leave now, we abandon everything we’ve worked for. We let the Serpents know that they can take what they want. Re:Fuze will go back to being a 4-guild world. The newbies who came here because they didn’t have anywhere else to go, will know that there’s no hope for them.

“The dagger might be precious, but it isn’t the only thing that threatens the world. If we let the Serpents take what they want unchecked, then nothing will ever change.”

“So what, then?” said Smoglar. “What are you saying?”

I took a breath. “That we stay. We do everything we possibly can to prepare and shore up our defences. We get the newbies ready. Connor can drill them in swordplay. When the Serpents come, we put up a fight.”

“It’s one we can’t win,” said Brian. “Objectively speaking.”

“But I can’t leave knowing we didn’t try,” I answered. “We’ve got a diverse group. We might not have the numbers, but we have skills. Don’t you want to be able to look in the mirror and know that you stood for something? That you didn’t just give up?”

“Sometimes that’s all a man can hope for,” said Connor, standing up. “I knew that when I deserted the Serpents, losing one man wouldn’t make a difference to them. But I did it all the same.”

Ozreal nodded. “Janus is right. Visit the Grand Library, and you’ll see that Re:Fuze lore is full of individuals who made an impact. Lastor Bombraid, Jeremal the Halon. Even Necrolor, for all his evil. One man, if he is strong enough, can affect the course of history.”

I spoke to my friends. I felt as if I should have had an orchestra playing battle music behind me. “So we get ready. We prepare as well as we can, and when those snake gits get here, we make them bleed.”

Smoglar stood up. He pounded the table with his fist. “You’re right, tinker. Dammit, you’re right.”

Brian crossed his arms. “And if it all goes wrong, Janus? What then? We need a plan for the dagger.”

I nodded. “If everything turns sour, a couple of us will leave with the Old Serpent’s Sting. But only if it comes down to it. This is our last stand, friends, and it’s the most important one we’ll ever take.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

We spent the next 36 hours in a frenzy of activity. Connor told us everything he could of the Serpents army tactics and how many fighters we should expect them to bring. With us, our new members, and Connor, we had 26 people in our guild. In his most conservative estimate, Connor expected the serpents to bring over 200 fighters.

We knew that the Serpents guild used mounts, so we had to expect some kind of cavalry charge. To that effect, I took 5 of the newbies into the woods where we felled trees.

Skill Gained – Lumberjack

We dug holes in the ground and planted the logs on a slant so that any mounts rushing at them would impale themselves on the sharpened ends. We packed these so closely together that it formed a barrier around the guild. This meant that the Serpents could only ride their mounts a short distance before having to get off and then march toward us.

Connor had well-developed two and one-handed swordplay skills, and he wasn’t too bad with an axe, either. We had him instruct some of the melee-fighting newbies and give them some tips. Through this he gained a ‘mentor’ skill which, although he didn’t say it, I could tell he was proud to earn.

“We need potions lined up in strategic locations,” Brian had told me.

To that effect, Feidan brewed a batch of his own brand of health potions, as well as mana and stamina. We placed these in stockpiles in defensive positions in the field surrounding the guild, and we also left some in the house. I hoped it wouldn’t get to that. If we were fighting inside the guild house, it would mean we’d taken our last stand.

Brian and I made screw bombs. We rigged these to thin, almost invisible pieces of string and then set them in the fields around the guild. I had named these ‘screw trip bombs’, and Brian asked me to stop adding prefixes to my bombs names all the time. After telling the rest of the guild where the trip wires were, we had ourselves some booby-traps.

I stood in the common room and waited for the rest of the guild to gather. A few newbies walked in, and I caught them glancing at me.

“Scared?” I said.

One of them nodded, the other shrugged his shoulders. Their gear was so basic that they looked fresh out of the box. This must have been how I appeared when I left Blundow.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “We’ve got a good chance.”

I said the words, but I didn’t know if I really believed them. The odds were stacked against us, and I knew that the Serpents army wouldn’t be mainly comprised of newbies, like ours.

While I waited, I decided to spend my 4 remaining stats points from my last levels up. With the prospect of a battle, I needed a few extra hit points and some added damage resistance, so I loaded a point into endurance.

Endurance increased to 6

Hit points increased to 169

Stamina increased to 134

With 3 points left, I needed to be sensible. My highest ability right now was Appraiser of Everything. This could give us an edge in battle if I could tell my guild mates our opponents' weaknesses. The problem was, Appraiser was mainly useful for NPCs. It was rare that a player character would have a glaring weakness unless they were wearing some kind of armour that gave them one. And who would do that?

With that being the case, I realised that my Knife Play skill was going to be useful in the hours ahead. Knife play increased my chance of a critical hit but it had also earned me another attack; Poison Blade. This attack would drain HP off the person I stabbed, but I could only use it once per battle, and I needed to save it. I used 1 remaining point on agility and the rest on intelligence.

As I leaned over the table and stared at a map of the area surrounding our guild, I heard booming footsteps walk toward me. Brian ducked his head under the doorframe and walked into the room.

“They’re here,” he said.

When I followed him outside, I saw that a sea of faces filled the horizon. The fields beyond us glinted when sunlight shone on the armour of the Serpent army. They hadn’t sent a rag-tag group of fighters today. It seemed that the Serpents had dispatched a freshly-equipped fighting unit. Their armour bore no marks, and blades that weren’t yet covered in the scratches of combat. Not all of them were mounted, but some of the Serpents bobbed up and down as their Wargs and Rockdogs carried them over the plains.

Hundreds of square Serpent logos filled the air above them. The army advancing on us was dressed in black like a funeral possession. At the front of their formation were the infantrymen. These were likely the lowest level of their force and would have only leather armour, but they had dyed it so that it was black.

I was joined outside the house by the rest of the guild. Smoglar had wiped the stains from his armour, and his axe gleamed. Everyone seemed ready for battle, and even Ozreal had donned a helmet and gloves.

The closer the Serpents got, the louder their marching became. Soon, it sounded like some enormous machine was advancing toward us. Some of the newbies looked nervously at the ground, while others could take their eyes off their opponents.

“Remember,” I told them, hearing the crunch of the Serpents’ boots in the field across from me. “We’re not going on the offensive here. We’re not trying to kill them all; we just need to defend ourselves enough that they leave.”

There was the scrape of metal as Connor drew his sword. I saw that there were three gems in the hilt, which meant that his blade had some kind of enchantment bonus.

“Make a stupid mistake, and a blade like this will end up in your belly. Get too cocky and you get a blade in the belly. What happens if you rush in?” he said, looking at the newbies.

“You get a blade in the belly,” answered one of them.

“What about if you break from our lines and decide to go on the offensive?”

“You get a blade in the belly.”

“That’s right,” said Connor. “We’re the like spiders in our lair, waiting to see which poor sap tries to enter. When they do, we strike. But not until then.”

The sound of a horn droned out all around us. I realised that the marching had stopped.

“Get in positions everyone,” I said.

People scattered to their assigned defensive locations. We had the long-range fighters and mages capable of projectile damage in the high positions, so that they could start to pick off some of the advancing army. Melee fighters were on the ground. Their job was to wait, and only engage once the enemy broke our lines. The sharpened logs we had placed would make it difficult for the Serpents to move around, and we had to take advantage of that.

I stayed out on the field. Smoglar was a few yards away, while Brian stood next to a wall and lined his bombs up next him. Ozreal and Feidan were on the west side of the guild house where a mound rose up from the earth. Ozreal had mana potions surrounding him, and Feidan held a staff in his hands. The healer didn’t have much in the way of offensive magic, but his mana shield would be invaluable.

The air around us filled with the sound of men roaring. Across the field, the Serpent front line had begun charging at us. They gripped their weapons in their hands, and their faces were set with looks of grim determination. Appraising a few of them, I saw a mix of warriors, rogues and barbarians ranging from level 7 to 16. Around 70 of them charged at us, which was already double the size of our own army.

“Let’s have some projectiles,” called Connor.

The ex-serpent had taken the role of commander in the battle. Since he’d actually been part of an army, I was happy to give control to him. After that battle, we’d have to discuss a way forward for Connor, but for now, we had to trust him.

For a few seconds, we all watched the charge of the Serpent frontline. There was nothing we could do until they got in range. The fields around us were silent. It was as if the creatures that scuttled over the earth and the birds in the trees knew what was to come, and they were waiting for the outcome.

The Serpents spilt forward like a tidal wave, heavy boots trampling the fields and turning them into mud.

“Bows and fireballs,” said Connor.

Four of our newbies were mages. Each of them grew a fireball in their palm. Next to them, two hunters drew back their bows and leaned into the fireballs to light the end of their arrows. Turning to face the enemy, the mages and hunters released their projectiles into the onslaught.

Men and women yelled in pain as fireballs scorched their skin and arrows pierced their armour. I watched the health bars of some of them drop, but none fell completely. The Serpents charged on regardless, crossing the field with an alarming speed. At the back of their formation, still partly hidden by the infantry, I saw that some of the officers rode mounts.

“They’re about to hit the first trip wires,” said Brian.

The mages and hunters knocked their arrows and grew their fireballs, then blasted them at the charging fighters. If our newbies had been higher levels, then their positional advantage could have done real damage. As it was, their fireballs damaged our enemy’s HP, but weren’t lethal.

I looked at the fields ahead. I had spent so long planting trip bombs that I knew every inch of them. Looking on, I knew that one of the Serpents, a warrior with metal greaves and a sword in each hand, was just feet away from the first trip bomb.

Time seemed to slow as I watched him. The warrior ran on, unaware that he was running straight into the path of a booby trap. Soon he would be blasted with gunpowder and screws.

As he crossed to where the trip wire had been set, nothing happened. Maybe I had gotten the location wrong; perhaps I wasn’t remembering it right. But the warrior and his men charged on, and nothing happened.

Luckily, the warrior took only a few more steps before he crossed another trip wire. The explosion from this one knocked him onto his back. I watched his HP drain satisfyingly low. Booms spread across the field and the Serpent’s life bars leaked health. The problem was that it seemed to be a lottery of which trip bombs would work and which wouldn’t.

With the Serpents in throwing range, Brian and I threw bomb after bomb. Soon the air around filled with the smell of spent fuses, and I heard men and women cry out in pain. The Serpents responded with an artillery of their own, peppering us with arrows that were more expertly aimed.

“I’m leaking HP,” cried one newbie, with an arrow sticking out of his arm. “They’re using poison tips.”

“How many do you think we’ve killed so far?” I called out to Brian.

“A dozen or so.”

“And have we lost anyone?”

“Not yet.”

Smoglar, Connor and Dereck stood impatiently. Each of them gripped a blade and waited near the gap in the sharpened logs, ready to slice at the first Serpents to step through. After seeing that the Serpents had indeed brought their mounts, I was glad we’d taken the time to chop the trees.

“We’ve got visitors,” said Smoglar, and pointed up.

Above us, flying well above the tips of the sharpened logs, a unit of Serpents rode winged creatures. Some were on the backs of what looked to be Blood Steers with wings, while another flew on an oversized bird. Although we had stopped some mounts getting through, there was nothing we could do about the flying ones.

Balls of fire and ice began to rain down on us. One well-aimed ball of inferno caught our hunters and mages head-on, draining the HP of three of them to just above a quarter. The fourth man died instantly.

“Drink a potion,” I shouted to them.

Ozreal held his hands in the air and sent a wave of purple light at the bird rider, knocking him off his saddle and sending him to the floor. He was a level 22 warrior, and I guessed that he was an officer. He didn’t have time to get up before Smoglar and Connor stood over him and used their blades to rid him of his HP.

More mounts flew over our defences and peppered us with fireballs. I threw bombs, aiming my arc so that they would explode in mid-air. The air stank of burning gunpowder, and I had already had my fill of men screaming.

I heard an explosion in front of me. I saw that a whole section of our sharpened logs had smashed into pieces, revealing more of the fields in front of us. I saw that across the acres, the Serpents had a row of siege cannons. That meant that they must have had a tinker with them who was beyond my level. Or at least, he had access to blueprints that allowed him to build such destructive weaponry.

Three more booms sounded out. One cannon ball flew overhead and exploded on a field too far away to cause damage. The other shots hit our defences head-on, and soon we were left with just a few logs dug into the dirt.

The sky flashed purple, blue and red as Ozreal’s arcane magic melded with the fireballs of the mounted Serpents. Across the field, I saw that the ground-running mounts were ready to charge. With our defences gone I had was able to see the whole Serpent army now. There were nearly two hundred strong and were comprised of all classes, by the looks of things. I scanned through their lines from left to right.

Then I stopped. My pulse raced. Someone was in the middle of them, a person I hadn’t noticed until now, because he must have been obscured by the mounts in front of us.

It was Herelius Rouge. He wore armour that made him look double the size of the men around him. Where everyone else had polished their armour, his was dirty and bore the red marks of bloodstains. He rode atop a black stallion that looked like it could do more damage than siege cannon.

I hadn’t believed that we would see him here. When Connor told me the Serpents were coming I assumed that we would see their rear guard. We weren’t the mightiest of guilds, and I imagined the Serpents had enough arrogance to think they could wipe us out with ease. Seeing their leader move his horse calmly toward us, I knew that Herelius Rouge hadn’t underestimated us at all.

I only had to look at him, and I felt myself start to fill with hate. I needed to shake it off. The middle of the battle was no time for me to lose my head, and it looked like I’d need to keep it clear.

Ahead of us, the Serpent foot soldiers ran beyond the ruins of our defences and charged at us. This was it. This was no longer a long-range battle, and that mean our odds had just shifted dramatically.

I knew the next few minutes could signal our last stand. We’d agreed that rather than let the dagger fall back to the Serpents, I would escape with it. All the same, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving. I couldn’t turn my back and know that my friends fought on against a Serpent onslaught. Besides, we still had some tricks left to play.

“Feidan,” I called out. “Give them their first present.”

Feidan nodded. He reached to the side of him and picked up a vial of potion. The liquid inside was blue and had yellow specks floating in it. Feidan lifted it above his head and aimed it at the first onslaught of Serpent footmen.

As the glass smashed in front of them, the liquid sprayed out. It froze all those who it touched. The only ones unaffected were those who must have worn something that gave them stun resistance. I knew that the frozen ones weren’t dead, but it eased the pressure and allowed Brian and me to throw bomb after bomb at them.

Smoglar, Connor and Derek charged forward. Connor held his sword upright and in a perfectly-parallel line to his body. Derek had his pointed forward, as if he planned to stick it through the first Serpent belly he reached. Smoglar, on the other hand, raised his axe into the air and bellowed. He’d practiced his one-handed skill over the last day, and I just hoped it would be enough.

As the infantry poured forward and more mounts flew above, it seemed that for every Serpent we killed, three more took their place. The main bulk of their army advanced forward, and I looked on in horror as more and more of them rushed through our defences and turned it into a melee battle.

We needed to do something. There were too many of them. Although our traps and defences had left a good number of them dead, we didn’t have enough people to fight them hand-to-hand. Without something else, we were done for.

I had to use my Greye ability. I didn’t know how, but somehow I needed to wield it. I looked at the ground around me. If I could draw power from the earth, maybe I could create some kind of shield like Helblake had with the stone. I focussed on the field and tried to imagine the power draining from it and becoming a barrier between us and the Serpents.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. It seemed like my stamina was draining just by the act of thinking about it. Try as I might, nothing happened. I heard a scream, and I opened my eyes and saw that a Serpent warrior had stabbed his blade through the belly of a newbie. Smoglar leapt forward and cleaved his neck with his axe, leaving the Serpent dead on the floor. No sooner had he perished, than four more warriors stepped forward.

The battle became a din of screams, and the sound of metal meeting metal. I saw health bars drain all around me. Brain launched bomb after bomb, spraying the Serpents with screws. Feidan threw the last of his stun potions, holding ten Serpent fighters in place. A flash of purple light was cast out, cutting three of them down. I looked at Ozreal to my left and saw that he was bent over and panting. His mana had drained.

This was it, then. There were too many of them. I wondered if this was the time for me to leave with the dagger, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t turn my back and leave my friends here. Not only that, but I saw that Herelius Rouge galloped forward on his horse, and he was close to meeting us on the battlefield.

As the Serpents ran through our defences, I saw looks of panic on the newbies around me. Connor, Derek and Smoglar fought on, faces set in anger, blades swinging at anyone who came their way.

Despite all their bravery, I knew we wouldn’t hold out. The army opposing us was just too great.

Soon Herelius loomed into view. Up close I saw that he had levelled up five times since I last saw him, which was no mean feat considering he was already above level 100. Behind and around him, his army ran toward us, ready to finish us off.

A horn sounded. At first, I thought that one of the Serpents had blown it, but when I looked to my left I saw that a portal had opened on the battlefield. From it, came a number of hooded figures wearing grey robes. With relief, I saw that the Greyes had joined the battle.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Greyes rushed out of the portal, wielding all manner of weapons from short stones to staffs. As they stood on the field together they all formed a line. Although I was glad of their numbers, I knew that the Greyes’ greatest strength was in their special ability. As powerful as it was, it had its limits. The Greyes could only draw power from what was around them. Here, there was little to draw from other than the fields that had become muddy from footfall.

“I’m out of bombs,” called Brian, to my right.

I moved away from the front of the guild house and walked around the side. Behind me, men screamed as the last of their HP was taken from them. I couldn’t tell whether the shrieks belonged to the Tinkers or the Serpents.

I came to the barn where we had buried our charterstone. I opened the doors and stepped inside. The roof reached high above me, and hay was scattered on the floor. In the corner, next to a pile of spears that Guile the banker had bought, were boxes of gunpowder and casings. I didn’t have time to assemble the bombs here and carry them out, so I’d have to take the powder and casing over to Brian. We’d make the bombs in the middle of the melee.

“I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but we’ve seen each other before, haven’t we?” said a voice behind me.

The hairs on my arms stood up. I knew who the voice belonged to straight away. I drew my dagger and turned around to see Herelius Rouge stood in the barn.

Up close he seemed as bulky as a giant. I knew that he was a man, but the sheer size of his armour was intimidating. I couldn’t even imagine the strength stat you’d need to wear it.

As I looked at his face and saw the scars on his cheeks and his black, piercing eyes, I felt hate course through me. I pictured myself back in the cave near the Plains of Jordan, and I saw Herelius raise his sword as he prepared to kill me.

He had his weapon in his sheath now, and he took two steps toward me. Behind him, his black stallion waited at the barn door.

“I’ve been looking for you, tinker,” said Herelius, his voice deep and rough, like the sound of a boot crunching on glass. “But luckily, you made it easy when you used the dagger.”

He seemed to know too much. Somehow he knew who I was, and he knew I had the Old Serpent’s Sting. I was aware of the map marker placed on me, but I didn’t see how he could know my class.

“I remember you, you know,” he said. “You were different then. You had a different class and a different name. What was it again? Oh, yes. Chimera.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know a lot,” said Herelius. “But I didn’t come here to talk. Give me the dagger, Janus.”

Suddenly, the Old Serpent’s Sting in my belt seemed to become heavier.

Herelius held out his hand. “Give me the dagger, and we’ll leave your guild intact. I’ll spare your friends.”

For a second I wondered if I should do it and spare my friends’ lives, but I knew that Herelius wouldn’t keep his end of the deal. Treachery was so deeply ingrained into him that it showed in the dark contours of his face.

I shook my head. “You know I can’t do that.”

“You’re playing games far beyond your level, tinker. Stick to blowing up rats with bombs. Pass the dagger to me, and I’ll be on my way.”

He stepped forward. He was so tall he seemed to loom over me. I looked at his armour and tried to see any cracks or weakness, but it seemed to be perfectly crafted. Gemstones gleamed in sockets across the metal.

I gripped my dagger tighter.

“I take it you don’t want to talk then?” said Herelius. “I’m not good with words, in any case. Better I explain your situation to you in a different way.”

With that, he drew his sword from his sheath. The blade was stained red with blood, and a black jewel shone out from the hilt. Herelius charged at me. Despite the bulk of his armour, he was fast.

As he ran at me with his sword in the air, a red light gathered over him. Just as he swung his blade, I dodged to the left. The bulk of the force missed me, but the tip of his sword scratched my bicep.

98 HP lost (Total: 71 / 169)

Even a graze from his sword was enough to drain more than half my HP.  I knew that my dagger wasn’t strong enough to puncture his armour. I glanced at the gunpowder and casings behind me, but I knew that I wouldn’t have time to make even a single bomb.

There was nothing for it. If my normal dagger wouldn’t work, I had to use something else. I drew the Old Serpent’s Sting from my belt. On seeing it, Herelius’ eyes seemed to burn with fire. I looked at the blade and saw that the metal glowed red.

Old Serpent’s Sting Used

25 HP lost (Total 46/169)

Herelius swung at me again. I ducked my head and felt the blade rush over my scalp, narrowly missing me. Without pause, I lurched forward and stabbed the dagger against Herelius’ armour with all the force I could muster. The blade didn’t puncture the metal, but I saw that his armour started to crack around the area I’d stabbed him.

It wasn’t good enough. I’d need to hit him a dozen times before I did any damage, and my agility was too low for me to keep dodging him. As the sounds of the battle roared on outside the barn, I looked at my enemy and knew I had no choices left.

Herelius stepped forward. He slowly backed me into the corner of the barn, where I stumbled against the pile of swords and heard them clatter to the floor.

I gripped the dagger in my hand. If I was to die here, I would die fighting. With the last of my strength, I would crack Herelius’ armour. As he approached me, I stabbed him again and I saw more cracks spread across the metal that protected him.

Old Serpent’s Sting Used

25HP lost (Total 21/169)

“I know what the blade does,” he said, moving closer to me. “With every attack, it drains you. You can’t last long now, Janus. Surrender to it. I’m told death can be a pleasant feeling if it is quick enough.”

Herelius stood over me and raised his sword. I remembered the last time I had been in this position. I pictured him stood over me in the cave and raising his blade. I remembered the pain that seared across my chest.

As Herelius swung his sword at me, time seemed to slow. The seconds dragged on so that I saw the arc of his swing get closer and closer to my neck. It was as though the game was allowing me to live the last moments of my life in agonising detail.

The blade came within an inch of my throat and then smashed against something. I waited for the pain to spread across me and for my HP bar to drain, but instead, nothing happened.

I realised that a shield of hardened mud had grown around me, and Herelius’ swing had blasted through a portion of it. Across from me, at the entrance of the barn, stood Helblake Crowley. The Greye Leader held his hands in front of him, and his face was screwed up in a look of concentration.

Herelius turned to face him. As he did, I equipped my normal dagger and rushed at him. I grunted with concentration as I leapt toward him, and I felt my Poison Blade skill activate.

The tip of my dagger stabbed into the back of Herelius’ neck, finding a small patch of skin where the metal of his armour didn’t join his helm. The Serpent leader grunted in pain. I appraised him, and I saw a status next to his name.

Herelius Rouge –  **Poisoned**

Herelius didn’t even turn around. Instead, he stared ahead of him at Helblake. I looked on at this meeting of two powerful forces. The shadows in the barn seemed to grow darker around me. Outside, I heard someone scream, and I heard the rush of a fireball that a mage had cast. The fight showed no signs of slowing.

Helblake broke his concentration and looked beyond Herelius and fixed his stare on me.

“I told you we would meet sooner that you thought,” he said.

“Come out of your cave, have you?” said Herelius. “This must be important, for the mighty Greyes to sneak out from their hiding place.”

Helblake looked at me. “You need to go, Janus. Take the dagger and get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“This isn’t about one life, Janus. Surely you must realise that by now? If you stay here with the dagger, this will all have been for nothing.”

“I can’t just leave you with him.”

“There’s a purpose for us all,” said Helblake. “And it seems I found mine. Not in the Assipian peaks, but here, in a barn near Iskarg. A fitting end, I guess. Don’t let this be for nothing. Leave. Now.”

He was right. I didn’t want to admit it, but I knew he was right. If I stayed here with the dagger, both of us would die and Herelius would get it regardless. At least if I went, there was still a chance he could be stopped. It was slight, but it was possible.

I looked around. Helblake stood at the door of the barn, and Herelius advanced on him. Even if I tried to get by him, my HP was so low that all the Serpent leader had to do was punch me, and I would die.

As if in answer to my question, Helblake focused on something behind me. I turned and saw that the part of the wooden structure of the barn was weakening. The wood seemed to darken and rot. Turning back around, I saw that a wooden shield had formed in front of Helblake. Herelius stepped forward and with one swing of his sword he busted through the shield.

I turned around. I kicked the weakened wood and created a hole, where daylight streamed in.

“Remember,” said Helblake, not taking his eyes off Herelius. “Find the Tinker. I won’t say his name here, but you know who I mean.”

Herelius turned to me. “Wait, Janus. Don’t leave so soon.”

I ignored him and went to go through the opening in the barn.

“Don’t you want to know about your brother?” said Herelius.

I stopped.

“It’s been a while since you saw him, hasn’t it?” said Herelius. “I bet you’re missing him.”

“Don’t listen to him,” called out Helblake.

I knew I had to leave, but I couldn’t. “You know Thomas?”

“Thomas? No. I don’t know anyone called Thomas. That isn’t your brother’s name anymore.”

“You need to go, Janus. He’s tricking you,” said Helblake.

Herelius gave a crooked grin. “No. Your brother has a different name, now. He’s called-”

Before Herelius could finish his sentence, a groaning sound came from above us. I looked and saw that Helblake stared at the barn roof with a look of focus. The wood above us began to twist and weaken until finally, the roof began to collapse. A wooden beam fell from above and smashed onto Herelius' head. The barn shook, and I knew it wouldn’t stay standing much longer.

Herelius grunted in anger and rushed at the Greye leader. As he raised his sword, Helblake stared at it. I watched as Herelius’ sword seemed to vibrate and turn black. As he swung it at the Greye leader, I heard a loud clang of metal and I saw that a steel barrier had formed in front of Helblake.

More wood rained down on us. Another beam fell, and this time there was a loud creak as the barn began to fall apart. I had to go. If I stayed, I’d be buried under the wood.

I ducked through the opening and went outside. Just as I stepped out onto the grass, the barn collapsed behind me, burying Herelius and Helblake underneath it.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When I re-joined the battle at the front of the guild house, I saw that bodies were strewn on the mud. Craters marked the spots where Brian’s bombs had exploded. I heard the ringing of metal on metal as warriors swung their blades at each other.

The Serpent numbers were dwindling. I watched as the hooded Greyes used their abilities to drain the steel from their opponents’ swords. They sent them back at the Serpent fighters as shards of metal. Men and women cried out in agony as pieces of steel pierced their flesh.

Ahead of me, Smoglar and Connor stood back-to-back and fought as Serpent warriors and rogues rushed at them. Ozreal drank a mana potion, threw the vial on the ground and then focussed another wave of arcane energy. Tiredness was written over the old mage’s face.

I heard the sound of a horn. I looked at the fields ahead of me in dismay, as I saw that another unit of Serpent troops marched across the grass. Their numbers seemed to be endless, and I wondered how many more waves would come at us. I gripped my dagger and prepared to join the fray.

As I rushed forward, someone grabbed my arm and dragged me back. I turned around, ready to stab my dagger into the belly of whoever it was. Instead of a Serpent, I saw Brian. He had scratches on his face and a wound below his shoulder. His fingers were stained black from gunpowder, and his HP bar was barely a quarter full.

“You have to go, Janus,” he said.

I shook my head. “We’ll keep fighting,” I said. “With the Greyes here, we have a chance.”

Across from us, where the barn once stood, I saw wooden beams fly through the air. Herelius Rouge stood up from the wreckage.

Brian put his hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t about the guild anymore,” he said. “It’s not about me, or Smoglar, or Ozreal. The dagger is the most important thing.”

I stared across at Herelius. I watched as he brushed splinters off his armour, and then bent down and moved wood aside to look for his sword.

“Forget him,” said the giant. “Forget revenge. This is about more than that. Surely you realise that now?”

Ahead of me, Smoglar swung his axe at the stomach of a Serpent mage. He looked across, and seeing Brian and me, he ran toward us. Connor followed him. Ozreal and Feidan moved away from the mound of earth and joined us. There was no sign of Derek the tailor.

When we were all together as a group, I looked at my friends. Their faces were weary from battle. Ozreal and Feidan sported full HP bars, but I could tell both their mana and stamina were down to the last dregs.

I looked at the battle around me and I saw the bodies of my guild mates on the ground. It seemed that most of the newbies had died in the battle, and the ones that still lived had HP bars draining dangerously close to empty.

Brian was right, I realised. We could stay and defend the guild, and maybe we could even force the Serpents to retreat. That would never be the end of it, though. When I looked across at Herelius Rouge I felt hate burn through me, but I knew that I had to put it to one side.

My motivations had been selfish. I had come a long way since leaving Blundow, but I had been driven by hate. Everything I had done so far I had done for myself; pushing myself on to try and satisfy my desire for revenge. I had been focussed on myself. I pulled the Old Serpent’s Sting from my belt.

“Maybe I can destroy it,” I said.

I thought about it. If I created a bomb and then combined it with the ability of the Greyes, maybe I could generate enough force to obliterate the weapon.

Ozreal shook his head. “Destroying the dagger will slow the Serpents down, but it won’t stop them. They’ll find the shards of their Fire Lord regardless.”

“What, then?” I said. “If I can’t stay and fight, and I can’t destroy it, what do you suggest we do?”

“Think about it,” said Brian.

The dagger hadn’t come to me by accident. Someone had sent it to me, and they had to have a reason for that. I realised that it wasn’t so that I could hide it from the Serpents, or even so that I could demolish it. Someone had sent it me because I had a higher purpose.

I looked at my friends. Seeing them all drained of their health sent a wave of guilt through me. They had all fought for me, and I couldn’t let it be in vain.

“I need to find the shards of Necrolor,” I said. “And then I have to destroy them.”

Ozreal gave a grim smile and then nodded. “That’s your purpose, tinker.”

Across the field and just away from the battle, the Greye portal remained open.  It pained me to have to leave the guild house, but there was no other way. The battle around us would rage on regardless of my presence in it. It seemed that with wave after wave of the Serpents coming, it was a fight we would lose.

The only chance we had was to leave. The dagger would help me find the Shards of Necrolor, and then we could destroy them. Doing that would weaken the Serpents irreparably.

But that wasn’t all. I watched as Herelius Rouge picked up his sword from the ground. We needed to stop him for good. As well as making sure his Fire Lord could never come back, I needed to end the Serpent guild. I had to find their charterstone.

This was why I was here. Not for revenge, not to kill just one man. But to rid Re:Fuze of a guild that had blighted them for years.

I looked at my friends. Smoglar held his axe in his hand and panted for breath. Connor watched the battle around him, with his fingers wrapped around the hilt of his sword. Brian loomed over us all, while Ozreal and Feidan stood together.

“I can’t ask you all to join me,” I said.

They all looked at each other. It was Smoglar who answered. “And you won’t have to ask, because we’re coming anyway.”

The portal across the field began to vibrate, and I saw that soon, it would close. If we were going, we had to go now. A higher calling awaited us. I looked back at Herelius Rouge, and I knew that our paths would cross again.

As we walked across the field and toward the portal, I remembered Helblake Crowley’s words to me.

“A battle is coming, Janus. Your story is still beginning, but you are reaching the critical part of it, and I fear that sorrows await you. Become strong, and face them head on.”

Quest Received: Destroy the Shards of Necrolor

The End

Thanks for reading book 2 of the Difficulty: Legendary LitRPG series!

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