Beastborne: Crucible
Date: 2023-01-05 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy
Description: Evading death is not without consequence. To restore broken magic and powers, Hal and his Guild brave Dungeons, facing nightmares made real. The dwarves and koblins of Brightsong seek new inventions to protect their growing settlement and its Manatree. Afflicted by a fatal essence, Hal turns to the crucible of the stars to break his shackles and reforge himself anew. Crafting an experimental new path is rife with dangers, but no kingdom of monsters and men is made without strife and sacrifice.

Beastborne: Exiled Lands

Beastborne Chronicles, Book 2

James T. Callum

Copyright © 2020 by James T. Callum

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Also by James T. Callum

Pyresouls Apocalypse Series

Pyresouls Apocalypse: Rewind

Beastborne Chronicles Series

Beastborne: Mark of the Founder (Book 1)

Beastborne: Exiled Lands (Book 2)

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Dedication

This is for those of us who could use a safe harbor in these utterly ridiculous times. I hope the world of Aldim can provide shelter from the storm that continues to rage around us, and can offer you, dear reader, at least a moment’s respite.

And, as always, for my loving wife. Without whom none of these books would have ever seen the light of day.

Lastly, for my awesome Patrons who continue to support me and make sure I keep writing for years to come.

Foreword

Beastborne was originally written as a web serial. For those uninitiated into the wonderful world of web serials, they are often written long-form but with numerous chapters. It is not uncommon to see many serials reach hundreds of chapters per volume.

As a result, you may find some of the chapters are a bit different from what you might be used to.

Additionally, if you find any typos or errors feel free to drop me an email citing what chapter they’re in at: typos@jamestcallum.com. I update the manuscript whenever an error is found, so make sure you allow your reading device to update your ebooks! That way you will always have the best version.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Chapter 87

Chapter 88

Chapter 89

Chapter 90

Chapter 91

Chapter 92

Chapter 93

Chapter 94

Chapter 95

Chapter 96

Chapter 97

Chapter 98

Chapter 99

Chapter 100

Chapter 101

Chapter 102

Chapter 103

Chapter 104

Chapter 105

Chapter 106

Chapter 107

Chapter 108

Chapter 109

Chapter 110

Chapter 111

Chapter 112

Chapter 113

Chapter 114

Chapter 115

Chapter 116

Chapter 117

Chapter 118

Chapter 119

Chapter 120

Chapter 121

Chapter 122

Chapter 123

Chapter 124

Chapter 125

Chapter 126

Chapter 127

Chapter 128

Chapter 129

Chapter 130

Chapter 131

Chapter 132

Chapter 133

Chapter 134

Chapter 135

Chapter 136

Chapter 137

Chapter 138

Chapter 139

Chapter 140

Chapter 141

Chapter 142

Chapter 143

Chapter 144

Chapter 145

Chapter 146

Chapter 147

Chapter 148

Chapter 149

Chapter 150

Chapter 151

Chapter 152

Chapter 153

Chapter 154

Chapter 155

Chapter 156

Chapter 157

Chapter 158

Chapter 159

Chapter 160

Chapter 161

Chapter 162

Chapter 163

Chapter 164

Chapter 165

Chapter 166

Chapter 167

Chapter 168

Chapter 169

Chapter 170

Chapter 171

Chapter 172

Chapter 173

Chapter 174

Chapter 175

Chapter 176

Afterword

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Newsletter

Hal’s Final Stats

Hal’s Skill List

Hal’s Spells & Abilities

Pyresouls Preview Chapters

Pyresouls Chapter 01

Pyresouls Chapter 02

Pyresouls Chapter 03

Pyresouls Chapter 04

Prologue

Aldim was ruled by its 13 Founders. Men and women who were blessed with Founder Marks and all the innate, godly magic they provided. Technically, they now numbered 14, with Hal’s disturbing capacity to wield his Founder Mark launching him among their ranks.

Rinbast had everything going for him. As the Founder of Fallmark, he ruled without challenge, and soon, all of Aldim would be saved by his hands alone. Every soul-darkening deed was in service to Aldim’s survival. Once the others witnessed him defeating the threat to this star, they would understand.

His family would understand.

Opening his eyes, Rinbast was unsurprised to find himself in the middle of a dark expanse littered with towering piles of square iridescent black stone.

After such a fit of rage, his momentary lapse in concentration would have invited an attack by his Beast.

Standing opposite Rinbast in the dark arena was a humanoid being of pure white light with two black pits for eyes that let out thick oily streams of black smoke. That smoke only doubled when a black grin creased his otherwise featureless face.

“Henser.” Rinbast spat his name like a curse. “I really don’t have the time for this. My rage is not aimed at you. But if you insist, I will gladly vent my frustrations over Hirash’s failure on you.”

Henser prowled like a caged animal - which, as Rinbast’s Beast, he was - looking for any sign of weakness.

Rinbast would give him none. He had lapsed momentarily in his protections. The anger at Hal’s continued evasion and the knowledge that the man had broken into his innermost bastion as if it were child’s play, had opened him up to Henser’s attack.

“If you but release me,” Henser began, claws of hardened light forming on his outstretched fingers, “we could subjugate this entire star and all those beyond. With your knowledge and my power? The Kindred themselves would cower before us!”

Rinbast snapped out a night-black sword, [Mancer’s Fear], that drank in the light coming off of Henser’s body. “I have an Archmage to punish, must we do this now?” His voice was calm but Rinbast knew better than to underestimate Henser. Though he put on an air of nonchalance, he was ready for the Beast.

Henser spread his arms out wide, and Rinbast had his answer. He wasn’t going to back down. One would think the Beast almost liked being beaten.

“Very well,” Rinbast said, drawing one arm across his armored chest and casting Occultation.

Swirling, shifting watery shadows spun around him. The effect vanished a second later for Rinbast, but for anybody looking at the Founder, his image would shift and waver like looking through a pool of water reflected by half a dozen funhouse mirrors.

Henser came at him in a rush, black oil dripping out of his slavering mouth. “Such tawdry tricks!” the Beast said.

“Perhaps,” Rinbast allowed, sidestepping Henser’s slashing claws. They were aimed directly at one of the many shifting forms that moved around Rinbast making him almost impossible to hit. A watery shadow was shredded by the attack and whisked away, but many more remained.

The Founder outstretched an arm and cast Hurricane Wing.

The towering phantasmic form of a Black Dragon reared where Rinbast stood and flapped its colossal wings. The Beast was caught out and blown away like a leaf in a gust. The razor-sharp wind cut deeply into his brilliant form.

Every cut made the Beast leak black oily ichor.

But Rinbast wasn’t done. Before Henser could even get his feet beneath him, he cast Tenebral Crush.

Shadows gathered around the struggling Beast and collapsed upon him, clinging to his form of hardened white light. Even Henser’s luminosity dimmed considerably under that crushing assault.

The Beast fell to one knee, then another as the weight of the Beast Magic spell fell upon him.

It would be like Henser was suddenly plunged into the very bottom of the Mariana Trench. The weight would be utterly immense. Rinbast waited and watched, but to his surprise, Henser was not giving up.

Rinbast took three steps closer to his struggling Beast, the other half of his soul. As a Beastborne, he was intrinsically tied to this creature. He had to keep Henser’s murderous strength in check, lest they turn into an eldritch abomination.

Covered in black crushing shadows, Henser collapsed to his hands and knees, struggling to stay upright. The fight was lost. Henser knew it. Rinbast knew it.

But this wasn’t just about winning the fight. Rinbast could have turned and walked away, back to the waking world where time would have all but stopped as this little farce played out.

This was about sending a message.

“You have to know I will never let you turn me into something like that,” Rinbast said almost tenderly. There was a hint of sorrow in his voice that the two could never see eye-to-eye. It was always a battle of wills for control, and it always would be.

No matter how much Rinbast grew used to the unique Strain inflicted upon him from casting Beast Magic, he could never fully quell Henser’s desires to usurp control.

“I do this for your own good,” Rinbast said, standing above the dark form on his hands and knees. Extending a hand over Henser’s body, Rinbast cast Railspike. A thick black railroad spike dropped out of his palm and hung in the air.

Rinbast twisted on the balls of his feet, bringing all his strength to bear as he curled his hand into a fist and slammed it down on the flat of the spike. There was a moment where physics refused to recognize the act, and then the spike moved so fast it seemed to teleport into Henser’s spine.

Henser’s strength gave out and he collapsed to the floor with a bone-rattling crash.

The glassy black flooring of the arena cracked and split apart. The twisting, spreading fissure grew to join the countless others. Rinbast’s soul was scarred with such fighting and marked with the lessons he imparted to Henser.

His Beast groaned pitifully, held in place by that most painful spell. Rinbast turned, dismissing Occultation and opened his eyes to the waking world.

Archmage Hirash stood before him on the tips of his posh velvet slippers, trying not to be strangled by Rinbast’s iron-hard grip around his neck.

They had discussed Hirash’s failures at length. It took more effort than Rinbast would have liked for the Archmage to see the error of his ways. He professed his desire to make amends, but when Hirash saw the door Rinbast had brought him to, a [Nightwood] door of repeating geometric designs like his Founder’s Mark, the Archmage balked.

That fear had shown the truth of the man. And seeing that weakness and his stammering excuses had finally let Rinbast’s anger slip free of its leash. And then, right on cue, Henser took advantage to try and seize control.

Well, Rinbast thought smugly. That didn’t work out so well for you, did it Henser?

He knew the Beast could hear him, and the grin that spread on Rinbast’s face nearly made Hirash faint. It would have been a simple affair - pathetically so - to snap the mage’s neck.

But he wasn’t about to do something so base or barbaric.

No, Hirash’s punishment was going to be much worse.

Rinbast fell into himself and activated his Founder’s Mark. As a Founder, he was marked with a geometric sigil branded onto his flesh. The very same sigil he knew Hal had. After all, they were the same man, if from a different timeline.

Resembling a golden 20-sided die that had been flattened like some papercraft project, Rinbast’s mark glowed with strength and vitality. It slid along his armored forearm to the back of his left hand as it always did when he summoned its strength.

Through the Founder’s Mark, he could cast any number of Sigils, magical spells of a sort that rivaled Beast Magic for savagery and strength. The only difference was, Founder Sigils consumed EXP instead of MP.

Activating his Mark, Rinbast used Subdue.

Rinbast released Hirash just as a golden collar materialized around the Archmage’s neck.

Golden chains draped away from the collar to each of his limbs and in a flash of light, they vanished. They were still there, binding and blocking Hirash’s considerable capacity for magic.

He was just a normal man now, albeit one with a great deal of Intelligence and Mind, but they would hardly keep him alive in the wilderness. Like most mages, Hirash’s physical attributes were pathetically meager.

Before Hirash could find his voice, Rinbast held up a single finger in front of the man’s hawkish nose. “You will have your chance to redeem yourself in my eyes. Your punishment should fit your egregious incompetence, and your ongoing lack of comprehension. I do not want Hal dead. I need him alive.”

Hirash nodded dumbly, eagerly.

He wouldn’t be so eager once Hirash understood the trial he was about to undergo. “Open the door, Hirash.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, the spindly mage nodded and grasped the gold knob. It took him a moment to work up the courage to open it and face what he knew was on the other side of that door.

Two fists of Kinslayers stood at attention in that austere room of [Nightwood] paneled walls and parquet flooring. Nothing else was in the room save a series of gold lamps attached to the walls at regular intervals, each glowing with an eerie green-blue light.

The room was bathed in that ghostly light, making the Kinslayers look even more monstrous and dangerous in their dark armor. Not all of them wore the same equipment, each had their own special preferences and Rinbast was more than happy to accommodate them.

As reflections of himself, each of the Kinslayers at his command had been nearly consumed by their own Beast. Only through his stabilizing control were they granted a semblance of sanity.

Without his guidance, each of them would have turned into eldritch abominations the likes of which could smother a dozen stars.

He wondered, idly, if he would have to add Hal as yet another Kinslayer. Or if the man was destined for something greater.

Rinbast placed a hand on Hirash’s back and guided the Archmage into the room. The Kinslayers stood, unmoving and in a sort of trance. They were ready to act at a moment’s notice.

With a snap of his fingers, the lamps changed color to a warm amber. The first row of Kinslayers awoke.

Hirash tried to backpedal, obviously repulsed by the way each of them snapped open their brown eyes and settled their gaze upon him. Rinbast shoved him forward and the nearest Kinslayer handled him as easily as if he were a child.

“If you truly wish to make amends, you will show me that you will never again underestimate your enemies,” Rinbast said, hands folded behind his back. “If you return to me, we will speak of this no longer and it will be as if it never happened.”

“If… my lord?” Hirash asked, visibly shaking. His dark hair was plastered to the side of his head, eyes wild and ragged at the edges.

“Since you deigned to so severely underestimate Hal, I would have you walk a few miles in his shoes,” Rinbast said, and he couldn’t help the thin smile that curled his lips. “To wit: You will be sent to the border with the Direlands, where the Broken reside and where we suspect Hal first entered this world.

“From there, you will make it - alone - through the wilderness to Sanctum-Fallwreath as he did. Should you survive the encounter, return to Castle Fallwreath and we may discuss your future, once you have been… enlightened.”

With a gesture from Rinbast, the Kinslayers began to rifle through Hirash’s expansive pockets, emptying them of all manner of defensive items he could use to make the journey trivial.

Once the man was entirely divested of every last bit of magic, his fancy - and heavily enchanted - robes were exchanged for those of plain cotton. Dressed in his new, mundane clothes and without a scrap of magic, the Kinslayers marched him out of the room through a door at the rear.

* * *

“You up for another thrilling adventure, Komachi?” Midarian asked, lounging on a purple velvet divan.

Komachi, a two-foot-long pobul (not counting her foot-long tail) that many people confused with the common Asian small-clawed otter, was too busy stuffing her face with sugar-crusted danishes from a nearby basket to listen.

“Komachi?” Midarian asked, leaning over the gluttonous pobul.

“Komachi?” the pobul echoed, her muzzle glittering with bits of sugar crystals and more than a little cream cheese filling. She often answered somebody with her own name… and nearly every other question with her own name.

She was a bit like a Pokemon in that respect, Midarian thought. Is Pokemon still a thing? Before his scattered mind splintered further, he pulled his thoughts together. Stay focused.

“I need you to check up on somebody for me,” he said.

Komachi scratched her chin with her dexterous little paws. “Who?”

“Just a guy I helped out right before tea time, do you remember me telling you about him?”

She did in fact remember.

Komachi had been waiting to go on another adventure and she excitedly flopped her powerful tail around, accidentally knocking over a pile of gems and jewels Midarian had painstakingly stacked into the likeness of a large hand giving the middle finger.

He didn’t mind. Meticulously arranging shiny things had a soothing effect on his worsening madness.

“Good,” Midarian said, throwing his feet over the side of the divan and onto the plush carpet. “His name is Hal and I think he might need a friend. Aldim is a pretty neat place, lots of danger and adventure. Stay as long as you like, but just check up on him, okay? I… kinda left him in the lurch after killing that god so… yeah.”

“Hmm, Komachi will see if he needs a pobul.”

“I appreciate it,” he said, tracing his fingers through the air like he was testing the temperature of bathwater. His dark room, floating through the cosmos, shifted and bent ever-so-slightly. “Just focus on Hal and you should be guided to him easily enough.”

A portal appeared, appropriately Komachi-sized. He petted the little pobul, one of his oldest friends, and she adorably reciprocated by hugging his hand with her stubby arms. After a farewell-for-now squeak, she scampered through.

He meandered over to the large squashy purple armchair that had once been a divan a few thoughts ago, and sank into it. With another effortless casting, he brought up a scrying window to see how Komachi was doing.

To his surprise, she didn’t appear in the woods or in the middle of a battle where he expected Hal to be.

Quite the contrary, she appeared in the middle of an opulent room practically blinding with magical wards and power.

“Oh my, how terrible for you, Rinbast,” Midarian said to the room in mock horror.

Komachi scampered around the room at hyper speed, pulling down books and toppling over tables full of carefully laid out parchments. Her general aura of chaos was dissipating as the rules of Aldim settled upon her, but just her very presence in the room had the most unlikely of things happening.

Midarian watched gleefully as the stained windows popped open and a breeze swept many intricate half-transcribed spells out the window hundreds of feet above a sprawling cityscape.

Eventually, even Komachi’s excitement over a new adventure seemed to calm when she realized nobody was there to greet her. In true Komachi fashion, she did not sulk or get depressed.

She got angry.

Midarian could practically hear her thoughts all the way across the realms to his private little stardusted abode. How dare they not immediately praise and pet her! The nerve.

The pobul looked toward the nearest door like she was going to march out into the castle grounds and demand to be pet - which, to be fair, she probably was about to do - when she caught the scent of magic.

Not just any magic, but familiar magic. Scrying magic, the kind Midarian was presently engaged in.

Komachi ambled up the small stone steps in the now thoroughly wrecked study and came up to a wide stone basin. A scrying pool possessed of impressive power. Midarian could see the image of Hal and some other people he didn’t know through the image.

He chuckled. He was scrying on Rinbast’s scrying pool, in a manner of speaking.

Komachi’s attention zeroed in on a girl with blonde hair beside Hal, her tiny dark eyes glittering with interest. Midarian knew that look well. The little pobul had all but forgotten about Hal at that point. She had a new pet person in her sights.

Komachi was no novice to magic or the deeper workings thereof and she quickly understood that she had gone astray.

Why she had found herself in Rinbast’s study, Midarian didn’t quite know. Or he did know, but didn’t remember? It amounted to the same in the end.

Thoroughly apprised of the situation, Komachi swiveled about and perched on the rim of Rinbast's scrying pool, intent on mischievous revenge. Muttering, "More than one! He's a spell thief," she lifted her tail ominously.

This was going to be good.

* * *

“Was that truly necessary?” asked a voice from the hall.

Another snap of his fingers after the Kinslayers and Hirash left, and the lanterns shifted back to their trance-inducing ghostly hue. Rinbast shut the door just in time to spot Ralst slipping out from behind a tapestry lining the wall.

“He underestimated him, and by extension me,” Rinbast said, waving a dismissive hand. He turned and walked past Ralst, who fell into step beside him. Her twin brother continued to shadow from behind.

Naturally, Ralst stuck her tongue out at him as she passed the smaller man. Like most drow, Ralst was larger than her male counterpart. Not that size had ever mattered to Alnafein.

“Taking it a bit hard though, aren’t you?” Ralst asked, pressing the point further.

Rinbast rolled his eyes, catching himself in a mirror given to him as a gift from the King of Deimos nearly a decade back. He hardly looked like the young man he was when he first came to Aldim.

The beard helped to set him apart from the Kinslayers - doppelgangers from alternative timelines turned servile with magic to save their fraying minds - and from his newest brother, Hal.

A name Rinbast had not been called in quite some time.

Not since he reinvented himself with his current moniker anyway. The few that knew who he was had been killed or were loyal enough to keep that to themselves.

“Hirash has a habit of inflating his own abilities, much to his detriment,” Rinbast said as they passed by the mirror.

Ralst noted the mirror, a raised silver-white brow on her dark face as she recognized it from one of their past adventures.

“I allowed such behavior before because he was always smart enough to keep the collateral damage of his failures to himself and away from my interests. But now he has directly impacted me, and he needs to learn a lesson.

“Perhaps, if he survives, he will come to appreciate the trek Hal made and miraculously managed to not only live through but thrive. I chose well in bringing him across.”

“So it’s true then?” Ralst asked. “The Vault was opened?”

Rinbast nodded. “This failure I cannot lay at Hirash’s feet. How Hal gained access to the underground barracks, gardens, and areas beyond is a cruel twist of fate. I thought I knew most of the Sigils belonging to this Mark, but it would seem my newest brother has managed to learn something I am now barred from. More’s the pity.”

“And… that creature within the Vault?” Ralst asked. Rinbast was pleased to note the shift in her tone was due wholly to revulsion. She was not afraid of Shae’kathoth, the body stealing Outsider that once threatened Murkmire.

“Destroyed, it would seem. The withering of the Murkmire Manatree was also reversed. Whether he intended to or not, Hal has done myself and Fallmark a great service by ridding us of that foul thing.”

“But you’re still sending Kinslayers after him?”

“No.” Rinbast shook his head. “That was Hirash, once again. He sent some Kinslayers after him. It may be the one correct thing he has done in all of this.”

“I doubt it,” Ralst said with a snort. “When Hirash fouls up, he does so with aplomb.”

As if to hammer Ralst’s point home, a bright flare of warning blossomed in Rinbast’s mind.

Rinbast sprinted down the hall, taking the first left that would take him toward his study. He cursed under his breath, the alarms had been tripped but none of the traps.

Surely it wasn’t Eiton? There was no way he could have breached the Manatree’s barrier. He would have known if he tried.

The list of suspects wasn’t very long, but they were all immensely powerful. Fortunately, he wasn’t too far from his study at the time. Ralst easily paced him and Alnafein was on his other side in a heartbeat.

“What’s the deal?” Ralst asked.

“Somebody is in the study.”

That was all she needed to hear. Ralst melted into the shadow of a nearby sculpture. She would beat them to the intruder, but not by much.

The pair made it to the door and with a sweeping gesture, the wards vanished. The door burst open and a startled squeak, not unlike a bath toy, echoed out from the disheveled room.

Rinbast skidded to a halt, his shoes sliding on one of the many pieces of parchment laying across the floor or fluttering in the wind. It took him all of two heartbeats to realize what was on those parchments. Panic took him full-force, a Titan’s hand squeezing his heart.

Those spells were absolutely key to saving Aldim!

He had spent years of his life, darkening his soul, doing whatever was necessary to save this dying world and his hopes were literally flying out the window at that moment.

Ralst stood near the base of the curving stone steps that led up to the scrying pool, but the tips of her beautifully curved daggers were pointed toward the floor, not the intruder.

Even Alnafein was dumbfounded by what he saw.

Perched atop the rim of Rinbast’s scrying pool, squatting and relieving itself was a small otter. It looked at him, giving him the stink eye as a rather noxious-sounding plop echoed in the room.

He recognized that otter, or rather pobul. “Don’t attack her, that’s Midarian’s Apprentice!” Rinbast ordered just as Alnafein was shaking off the confusion.

Ralst stared with a mixture of adoration and revulsion. Cute animals had always been her weakness.

The stream stopped. Started. Stopped again. Then started, only to end a moment later for good.

Komachi defiles the [Scrying Pool].

The [Scrying Pool] is afflicted with Foul Waters.

A portal opened in the air in front of Midarian’s Apprentice. It had the distinct flavor of magic that was wholly Midarian. The air tasted like Tang. Something few people not from Earth would understand, Rinbast had tried explaining it and eventually gave up.

Komachi leaped through the portal and was gone, leaving her odorous surprise lingering in the now non-functioning scrying pool.

With a prompt mental command from Rinbast, the windows shut, sealing in the remaining pages.

It was going to take him months to recover from that. And only if he could find the pages among the castle grounds and the city below.

Unfortunately, closing the windows also kept in the reek. The three quickly vacated the study and Rinbast reset the wards once they were safely away and could no longer smell the room.

“She’s so adorable,” Ralst said.

“She is highly destructive,” Alnafein corrected.

Rinbast looked at Alnafein, then Ralst. “I need you to deliver an order to the Kinslayers Hirash sent out from Murkmire.”

The drow turned to him and tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Do you think this is an attack because Midarian thinks you’re going after Hal after he went through the effort to save him?"

“I don’t know,” Rinbast admitted. “But if that is not a warning, I do not know what is. Besides, the papers she scattered to the winds are more important than Hal at the moment. Recall the Kinslayers, Ralst. Do it in person. They have at least a week’s head start, get to them before they get to the boy.”

Ralst gave a mock salute and melted into the shadows.

Rinbast turned to Alnafein. “I hope you aren’t above collecting paper in the streets with me, old friend.”

Alnafein answered with a faint grin.

1

“On your left!” Angram called out, nearly slipping off the smooth black carapace of a monster-truck-sized beetle.

Hal didn’t even look. He lashed out with the [Chain of Binding]. The chain clinked against a nearby tree and Hal enacted its binding enchantment. With a tug he completely reversed his direction, narrowly avoiding a cleaving strike that exploded the earth where he was a second ago.

With a twist, Hal oriented himself so his feet would collide with the trunk of the tree. Coiling his shadow-infused legs, he released the enchantment on the chain and sprang off the tree.

[Brilliance] swiped through the dust-filled space, cleaving through the thick iridescent carapace of the monster. Hal twisted his body, swinging his left arm wielding the [Chain of Binding] so that the links wrapped around the insect’s foreleg.

With another tug, Hal avoided the acidic blood spray of the Noxis, a beetle-like insect that ranged in size from a pickup truck to that of the aforementioned monster truck. A flick of his wrist and the chain uncoiled from the insect’s leg. Hal tumbled to the churned-up earth beneath it.

You hit the [Noxis | Lv.27] for 78 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Bleed (Cruel Blade).

He raised [Brilliance], the magnificent sword he inherited from Thirty-seven that he could finally wield.

True to its name, the edge of its blade shone like bright starlight. Getting to one knee, Hal drove the blade up into the creature’s abdomen and at the same time summoned Drill Branch into a protective spinning drill oriented above him.

As he pulled free the blade, the twisting branches coalesced and began to spin, exploiting the hole in the hardened carapace. The drill sank into the creature’s innards and gored it. Hal rose to his feet, pushing the spell up higher and lifting the creature slightly off the ground until it started to split straight down the middle.

With a hideous screeching cry, the creature broke apart to either side of Hal with an earth-shaking crash.

Weakness Exploited!

You hit the [Noxis | Lv.27] for 123 points of damage!

The [Noxis | Lv.27] suffers 33 points of Bleed damage (Cruel Blade).

You cast Drill Branch.

Weakness Exploited!

The [Noxis | Lv.27] takes 140 points of damage!

The [Noxis | Lv.27] takes 132 points of damage!

The [Noxis | Lv.27] takes 133 points of damage!

You defeat the [Noxis | Lv.27].

You gain 800 Experience Points.

You absorb 10 Insect Essence.

You Obtain:

- 80 [Sparks]
- 2 [Iridescent Carapace]
- 1 [Vial of Beetle Blood]

One down, three to go, Hal thought, turning about to take in the scene. Angram rode one of the creatures, stabbing his thin blades into the tiny creases in the creature’s armor. Elora was dragging the bloodied body of Ashera off to the side while Mira fended off not one, but two Noxis at once with deft work of her new halberd.

“You done patting yourself on the back over there, o’ Fearless Leader?” Mira called out. “I mean, take your time.” She shifted the pole to block a sweeping pincer then leaped into the air over the follow-up attack by the second Noxis. “Oh, don’t worry about little ol’ me. I’ll just take care of both of these, shall I?”

Grumbling, Hal coiled his legs and lunged forward. Thanks to Convergence, his shadow-laced limbs were able to partially tap into his CHR and INT instead of STR and DEX, enabling him to leap through the air in a pale mockery of the Dragoon’s prowess.

She saw him at the last moment and reoriented herself in the air, above the forest floor. Mira reached a tanned hand out to Hal. He grasped it and she twisted, flinging him back toward the ground. Straight into the waiting pincers of a Noxis.

Hal lashed out with his chain but misjudged the distance and hit the empty air. He cursed and pulled back on the chain as he went over his options. Bloodrake and Enchainment were out of the picture. He needed to touch the same physical surface as his target.

He shot out Blinding Spit at the creature, a black gob of ooze that exploded into a bright blinding flash of light. He angled [Brilliance] to fend off any attacks but it was unnecessary. Enraged and blinded, the creature thrashed about in the air.

Hal fell harmlessly to the soft earth and went on the offensive.

Angling himself to see Mira’s Noxis, an unstable gob of black ooze shot out of his hand as he cast Blinding Spit again. It crashed into the creature. The effect was immediate and almost comical. The long curved outer edge of the creature’s pincer swept Mira to the side, purely focused on its hatred for Hal.

Unable to see, it barreled into the other Noxis and while the two were locked up, Hal lashed out with chain and sword. Mira was at his side in an eyeblink. Together they handily destroyed the two creatures while Angram finished off the third.

You cast Blinding Spit.

The [Noxis | Lv.26] takes 100 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Enmity Up, Blind.

You hit the [Noxis | Lv.26] for 82 points of damage.

You cast Blinding Spit.

The [Noxis | Lv.28] takes 67 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Enmity Up, Blind.

Mira hits the [Noxis | Lv.28] for 65 points of damage.

You hit the [Noxis | Lv.26] for 87 points of damage.

…

You defeat the [Noxis | Lv.26].

Mira defeats the [Noxis | Lv.28].

Angram defeats the [Noxis | Lv.28].

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 14.

+1% Sword damage (+14%).

-0.25% Sword durability loss (-7.0%).

Your Improvised Weaponry has risen to Level 14.

+2% Improvised Weapon damage (+28%).

+2% Improvised Weapon attack speed (+28%).

Your Beast Magic has risen to Level 17.

+3% Beast Magic potency (+51%).

You gain 2,450 Experience Points.

You absorb 25 Insect Essence.

You earn 245 Sparks.

You Obtain:

- 1 [Iridescent Carapace]
- 2 [Vial of Beetle Blood]
- 1 [Black Pincer]

Angram rode the beetle’s carcass as it plowed through the earth, toppling small trees and throwing up large clods of dirt. The ranger’s mirth was short-lived, however, because a moment later each of the beetles burst into a cloud of purple-black smoke.

The telltale sign that they were well and truly dead.

Normally, they’d compare loot and pool their resources for crafting. But with Ashera hurt, they all rushed over to the downed Sin Keeper. Elora cradled her bloodied body in her arms, working a ball of stringy white wispy light over the wounds like ethereal gauze.

Elora casts Sparing Touch.

Ashera is stabilized.

Elora’s red-rimmed eyes look up pleadingly at Hal. “I can’t-”

Hal saw the prompt just as anybody else had nearby. The confusion was wiped away a second later.

Ashera suffers the effect of Broken Faith.

Additional Effect: Bleed.

Ashera takes 15 points of Bleed damage (Broken Faith).

Now he understood Elora. She weaved the spell again, but it was a stop-gap at best.

Not long after they came to the Feltin Plains, each of them gained a Quest. Initially, it was only Elora and then one by one, the same prompt came to them all. It said nothing more than “Help Elora finish her Quest.” While Elora’s said to find the source of a sound only she could hear.

This was the second set of monstrously sized creatures they had faced off against. The farther west they went, the larger the wildlife became. Gazelles the size of a small bus, mosquitos as big as Hal’s fist, and of course carnivorous beetles the size of a truck.

Between the first attack and the second Ashera suddenly fell ill and none of them knew what to do. Out in the wilds, nowhere seemed safe. The simplest of creatures posed a threat that would have killed Hal last month without any effort.

Hal fell to Ashera’s side, placing a hand on her forehead to sweep away her pale silver-white hair. She wasn’t wounded, not outwardly as they thought. But there was an alarming amount of blood on her that, upon closer inspection, was mostly coming from her nose, mouth, eyes, and ears.

Her HP was steadily dropping, even though Elora was practically chain-casting Sparing Touch to stem the bleeding.

She couldn’t keep it up forever, despite Sparing Touch not actually doing any healing, it was an MP-intensive spell. It didn’t matter. Whatever affliction she had simply caused it again.

Even with his Sympathy with Ashera, he couldn’t tell what was wrong. That meant it was something deeper than a simple debuff.

Tapping Assimilation, Hal used Empathy to transfer all but 50 points of his SP and MP to recover Ashera’s HP. This time, Hal was ready for the panic-inducing shortness of breath that suddenly stole over him.

“That bought her some time,” Hal said, trying to steady himself. A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and kept him from collapsing. “But if we can’t find out what’s wrong with her, I’m not sure she’ll survive the trip back. Especially if we get attacked again.”

“I already used all the potions I had on me,” Elora admitted. “It was the first thing I tried.”

Hal did his best to hide the disappointment. As the swiftest among them, Elora had over half their stock of [Health Potions]. If she already used that much, what HP Hal had given Ashera wouldn’t last long.

Maybe if Noth was with them, she would have understood what was troubling Ashera. There was only one path Hal could think of to get to the bottom of it. But it was something he hadn’t used since Murkmire.

And an ability he never tried to use on a sapient creature.

“Mira, get to the tallest tree you can find and keep a lookout. Angram, watch my back. I-” Hal looked over at Elora. “I can’t ask Ashera for permission, so I’m asking you.”

“What’re you going to do?” Elora asked, her voice cracking.

“I don’t know if it’s even possible, let alone if I’m capable of doing it but when I Dominated the Wortlings, I could see everything about them. Their stats, their abilities, everything. If I did the same to Ashera, I might be able to see what’s afflicting her.” Hal gave Elora a pained look. “I don’t see any other way. But I will not do it if you don’t think she would agree.”

Elora scrubbed her quilted leather sleeve across her face to brush the tears away but they fell despite her efforts. “Do it. She’d do anything for me… she already has. I owe this to her.”

“All right.” As Hal shut his eyes, Elora reached out and gripped his forearm. Hal opened his eyes and looked into her blue-gray eyes.

“Whatever it takes, Hal.”

He tried to give her a reassuring smile and shut his eyes, focusing. Hal pulled his hand back from Ashera’s forehead and held it out in front of her. His fingers spread and curled like he was gripping an invisible orb.

He reached within himself to the Founder’s Sigil and cast Dominate.

2

Casting Dominate wasn’t something he was unfamiliar with. Even still, he didn’t remember ever feeling the deep tugging sensation like he pulled a muscle that he did now. It nearly broke his concentration.

Pushing through, it felt like Hal was mentally parting several sets of heavy curtains. Each set he pierced through became heavier. They were layers of protection against such an intrusion. Controlling a thinking being wasn’t like taking hold of the Wortlings or a mindless beast.

This was different. It was profane.

And if he didn’t feel it was the only way he could figure out what was wrong with Ashera and somehow help her, he never would have suggested it. The thought of puppeteering another person twisted his stomach.

No doubt it was something Rinbast would do if he had the power. Luckily, if Thirty-seven was telling the truth, the very fact that Hal had this Sigil meant that Rinbast couldn’t.

Wrenching aside the final curtain, Hal felt reality shift around him.

He stepped into a dark room of black stone. Looking behind himself, Hal could see no way back out. A pool of light illuminated a hunched figure at the center of the room.

It was Ashera. Naked and vulnerable.

He was in the most inner sanctum of her being. He wanted to avert his eyes but couldn’t. She was beautiful, and he soon realized that the pool of light was coming from Ashera’s body. She was glowing. Incandescent.

And she was chained.

Her wrists were wreathed in golden manacles that draped delicate golden chains across the floor and to opposite walls. Her ankles had similar restraints and a pair of chains that were embedded in the floor beside her. But it was the collar around her neck with its thin golden chain held taut that urged Hal toward her.

She would have crumpled to the floor in a heap if that chain wasn’t holding her up. It should have been choking her. Hal rushed to her side. Once he was within five feet, a shimmering wall of light erupted from the stone and pushed him back with staggering force.

Hal hit the hard stone floor and tumbled, caught completely off guard. He laid there longer than he would have liked, recovering from the hit and catching his breath. It felt like he just got hit by a bus.

“Ashera,” he wheezed, getting to his feet and edging his way toward her cautiously.

There was no response. She didn’t even lift her head to look at him.

He couldn’t help but notice her shapely curves, the way her ivory horns without their usual silver filigree curled up above her silver-white hair.

But it wasn’t her attractiveness that drew his attention. It was the countless small scars, like tiny, razor-thin cuts all over her arms and legs.

His heart ached with sympathy.

Was that why she always covered up? Did she do that to herself or was it done to her? Hal shook his head and strode forward, hand outstretched with his fingers curled. He summoned the Sigil to his mind and held it there.

He knew it was working when he felt the pulling sensation deep within. His fingers met the barrier of light that shimmered and resisted him. It stretched like cling wrap and just as it seemed it would stretch forever, it broke with a loud crack.

The barrier rippled and vanished all around Ashera, rousing her from her stupor. She looked up with unfocused sea glass green eyes. “Dad…?”

That stopped Hal cold. He nearly lost his grip on the Sigil. “No, it’s me Ashera. It’s Hal.”

The Sin Keeper’s eyes focused fractionally. She reached for him weakly but barely managed to get it above her breast before the golden chain snapped taut. “Where is mom? Did I make her leave?”

Hal fought for each step until he was in front of Ashera. The Sigil’s compulsion gave him an inkling as to what he needed to do next. He resisted it, falling to his knees in front of her until their faces were level. “Ashera, can you hear me?”

“Please help me,” she whispered, her hands weakly straining against her bonds to reach out to Hal. “Don’t leave me too.”

He tried to summon [Brilliance] but failed. He couldn’t feel his Beast Magic either. All he had was the Founder Sigil. With no other options open to him, Hal kept his eyes locked with Ashera’s. “I’m sorry, Ashera.”

His hand came forward under the compulsion of Dominate and wrapped around the gold collar around her neck. It felt so much like the first time they met. But at the same time, it was different. Deeper and darker. Using Mana Investiture wasn’t going to work this time.

The metal became malleable like clay under his grip. Ashera’s gaze began to focus, moving from incomprehension to dawning realization. And finally to fear as the collar began to crack and warp under Hal’s grip, crushing her windpipe.

It had to be done. He intrinsically understood how to Dominate another thinking creature. It was a far more in-depth procedure. Made all the more difficult because somebody had already chained up Ashera’s mind long ago.

While it wasn’t the same as Dominate, it bore a striking resemblance. Enough that the very presence of the chains and the binding magic that laced Ashera’s deepest and truest reflection of herself, disturbed him greatly.

But that wasn’t enough to stop him. Neither were Ashera’s sudden, fearful pleas.

Awareness came back to the Sin Keeper in increments.

“No, stop!” Ashera cried in an uncharacteristic burst of emotion.

Hal knew he was hurting her but there was no other way to get the collar off. The entire time Ashera pleaded with him. With his grip on her collar, she should have been struggling to speak but it didn’t appear to bother her.

What did bother her, was the slow and deliberate destruction of that collar. The metal bent and twisted under Hal’s grip. If he let go it would reassert its control, likely ejecting him from this place entirely.

She begged and cried. When her threats didn’t stop him, she lunged at him but was held fast – ironically – by the chains on her wrists and ankles. Eventually, Hal managed to get his fingers between Ashera’s neck and the metal. With a wrenching twist, he ripped the collar off.

Like a puppet with its strings cut, the lamora collapsed. Hal reached out, grabbing her and guiding her gently to the ground. While she had stopped fighting him, he immediately went to work on the next manacle.

The cycle repeated.

Only when Hal was actively trying to release her, did Ashera rouse from her fugue state and lash out. Seeing the danger, Hal worked at her ankles first then her hands. Sporting more than a few bruises and at least one cracked rib, he was finally forced to subdue Ashera.

Something he could have easily done… if he had use of his Beastborne powers.

Which he didn’t.

Without Convergence boosting his physical prowess, the Sin Keeper was stronger than he was. She screamed and wailed like a banshee. She lashed out with knee, foot, fist, and elbow.

If she was bothered by her nudity and her open display of it while she pummeled her friend, she certainly didn’t show it.

He was able to finally wrench one of her arms behind her back and sweep out her unchained leg. Seizing on his sudden opportunity, Hal placed a knee on her back to hold her in place and worked quickly to break the final manacle.

As he broke each manacle her reactions became ever more unhinged from the Ashera he understood. “You can’t do this! You don’t know what you’re doing, Hal! I’ll kill you!”

The final restraint snapped and fell to the ground with an ominous, clangorous ring.

Hal leaped back, wiping blood that streamed down his broken nose from a particularly savage elbow. He took a few extra steps back. Hal had a newfound respect for the Sin Keeper.

Granted, he wasn’t at full strength. But still, she was no stranger to close-quarters combat.

“Ashera?” he eventually called.

The lamora lifted her head. Her horns, now possessed of their silvery filigree shone, with inner light like the rest of her body. Was it his imagination or did that seem brighter now?

She made no attempt to move.

I’m not falling for it, he thought. No, way. I’m going to get close enough that she could reach me in one lunging leap and then she’ll kick my florking ash. “Ashera, I’m not coming any closer so if you’re planning something just do it and get it over with.”

Still no motion. He knew she was awake, he could see her breathing and there was a strange connection between them now. It felt familiar, like the one he had with Noth. But deeper somehow, like he had always known her. Or that she had always known him.

“Ashera, get up.”

He didn’t mean to get so aggravated, it just came out. And as he issued the command, he felt the last vestiges of the Sigil play out.

Golden light flooded into the room, illuminating Ashera’s body and overcoming her own body’s inner light.

Ashera raised her head and was lifted off the floor like a large invisible hand grabbed her and lifted her to her feet as if she were a doll.

Hal’s Founder Mark appeared on her chest, just beneath her collar bone. He noticed it included the moonlight Manatree marking at its center. It made his skin crawl to see it on her.

Shutting his eyes, Hal could feel Ashera as if she were an extension of himself. Just like he could tell if his arm ached or was wounded, so too could he tell if Ashera was ailing.

The wounds she had were old, mostly self-inflicted he noted with sorrow. He turned his mind away from delving into her past. He was violating her privacy enough as it was. A quick check confirmed that she no longer suffered from Broken Faith.

“…Hal?” Ashera asked. She sounded like she had just woken from a deep slumber. “What’re you-” Realizing where she was, and her own state of undress she looked back up at Hal. She didn’t bother covering herself up. “Where are we?”

3

Hal didn’t think he could be so blasé if he realized he was standing stark naked in front of one of his friends. He cleared his throat and did his best to keep his eyes locked on Ashera’s. “I think we’re inside of your mind somewhere. You were… dying, I think.”

Ashera struck a pensive pose, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I vaguely recall you attacking me.”

Hal put out both hands, padding the air. “Woah, no. I was not attacking you. I was trying to free you. You were… chained. I don’t know where they came from but they were gold. You freaked out whenever I tried to break them. Are you going to put some clothes on?”

“Why?” She looked down at herself then back at Hal. No hint of shame or blush of embarrassment. There was also no invitation. She stood as if she were fully clothed, without a care in the world beyond the puzzle of where they were.

“Because you’re naked.”

She shrugged, causing her large breasts to bounce. “You’ve already seen me naked. Clearly. What’s the purpose of putting on clothes? Are you so prudish or ashamed of nudity that you hate to see it on another?

“I didn’t take you for being that sort.” Ashera tilted her head to the side. “Or maybe you feel like you can’t control yourself around a woman’s nudity? No, you’re not that weak. The Beast would still have control of your body if you were.”

Hal took a deep breath and nodded. “I guess I am a bit of a prude,” he said with a self-deprecating chuckle. “Old habits from my home.”

“Besides,” she said. “You’re naked to me.”

Hal started and looked down. “What? I am?”

Her light, tinkling laugh drew a glare from him. “No, but your face was precious.”

He shook his head. That was one of the oldest tricks in the book, on par with “you’ve got something on your shirt.” Ridiculous that he fell for it. Though the way her eyes glanced up and down him, he wondered where the lie precisely was.

“How do you feel, Ashera?”

She took a moment to examine herself, only then did she blush when she saw the cutting marks on her arms and thighs. Her eyes immediately found Hal’s and held them. “You can’t tell Elora.”

“I don’t think anybody needs to know the… specifics of what happened,” Hal said, wiping at a thin stream of blood from his still-broken nose.

“Here, let me help.” Ashera stepped forward and raised her hands to cup the sides of Hal’s face. She shut her eyes… and nothing happened. Her brow furrowed and she tried again. “Oh, no.”

Curious, Hal found himself studying Ashera. Not the physical beauty of the woman but the depths of her that only she could know. Why couldn’t she heal him?

Something about that status intrigued him. It took him a moment or two to find it.

Broken Faith

Agreeing to a Covenant is a serious, binding undertaking. You have broken faith with the Covenant of Dawn by aiding an Enemy of the Covenant. Until you renounce your actions and return to the Covenant, you will receive the Broken Faith Debuff causing you to reap every wound you have inflicted with the power of the Covenant of the Dawn.

Sin Keeper Fabled Class no longer available.

All Sin Keeper and Covenant of the Dawn Spells, Abilities, and Traits are unavailable.

“Ashera, what is the Covenant of the Dawn?”

If Hal had grown three heads and began oozing organs out of every orifice, he doubted the look of dread and horror on Ashera’s face would have been any worse than it was right then.

With Dominate acting on her, Hal could feel her emotions and thoughts as his own. Right then, she was thinking about dissembling. Her mind reeled back to her explanation, trying to recall what she told Hal and how much of it was a carefully crafted step around the truth.

In the end, to her credit, she threw away the lies she had prepared. “That’s Rinbast’s Covenant. It’s what allowed me to become a Sin Keeper and… heal people.”

Hal furrowed his brow. “You can’t heal anymore then?”

She crossed her arms. Only once her power was taken away did she feel naked and vulnerable. Clothes appeared on her, long flowing robes of white hemmed with silver.

“It’ll be okay, Ashera,” Hal said, trying to soothe her. He could feel her rising fear and worry, though she did a phenomenal job of keeping it hidden. Without his ability to feel her emotions, he would never have known the tumult brewing within her.

“No, it won’t, Hal.” She shook her head and paced back and forth. “My healing is one of the only things I was good at.”

“Is there a way we can… I don’t know, fix it?”

Shoulders slumped, Ashera could only shrug.

“I’m sorry, Ashera. I really am. But that doesn’t define you. You don’t need to be a Sin Keeper to have a place with us or to be useful.” Hal extended his arm to her. He could feel the way back to consciousness opening and he knew how he could bring her with him.

Now that Ashera was healed, and the chains binding her to the Covenant were removed, there was no threat to her life. Hal didn’t know how long they had spent in this place but he didn’t want to leave himself exposed and vulnerable for any longer than was absolutely necessary.

And without Ashera’s healing capabilities, they would have to rely on Hal’s Assimilation which was nothing like a stereotypical healing spell.

Ashera looked at his hand then into his eyes. “You can’t tell Elora.” Her voice was deadly serious as she reiterated her command. “I’m serious. Nothing about this. Please.” She fell to her knees and spread her arms out wide, her wide sleeves draping and nearly touching the ground. “If I must beg to keep this all secret, I will. You have no idea how important this is to me. I am eternally grateful to you for saving my life – again – but I don’t know if I cou-”

Hal raised a hand to stop her and stepped forward, helping her up to her feet. “I would never ask that you beg. You’re my friend Ashera. Probably the most trusted friend I have ever had. If you don’t want me to tell anybody about what happened, I won’t. On one condition.”

Wetness rimmed her eyes as she nodded. “Anything.”

“You either have to tell people you can’t heal, or come up with something that excuses why you can’t heal. I will back you up in any way I can, just let me know, okay? I don’t want people taking chances and getting hurt, thinking you can heal them. I won’t put our people in danger like that.”

“I understand,” she said. Ashera lunged forward and wrapped Hal in a tight embrace, squeezing him so hard that even if he didn’t have cracked ribs he probably would after that hug. “Oh, Gods! I’m so sorry.”

Hal grunted and staggered back. As he fell the room twisted and spun. The moment he fell onto his back, the green light of the copse of trees swirled around him.

Blinking, Hal coughed and groaned propping himself up on his elbows. At least, he tried to but a pair of hands lifted him up to a sitting position instead. “You all right there, dude?” Mira asked. “I got worried when you started to bleed from your nose like something out of Scanners.” She shook her head. “Anyways, you good? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Hal looked at her three fingers. “Three. And I’m okay, just give me a moment.”

Glancing at his HP, he’d dropped nearly half his total. He definitely wasn’t going to tell anybody about that. Even naked and half-aware, Ashera had whooped his ash.

Unfortunately, his SP and MP hadn’t recovered enough to use Assimilation to recover his HP. Instead, even with the inordinate cost of using Dominate on Ashera, he had enough EXP from that last fight to hit the next Level of Beastborne.

Committing the EXP to Beastborne, he felt himself washed with soothing warmth as his wounds and fatigue vanished in the blink of an eye.

Beastborne reaches Level 16.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

Ashera still hadn’t moved from where she was. Elora looked over at Hal. “Is she…?”

With a nod, Hal understood he was still connected to Ashera through the Dominate Sigil. He commanded her to wake and then immediately dismissed the Sigil.

Ashera started to get up a moment later but Elora buried the lamora in a rare display of emotion. She hugged her with all she had then pushed her and slapped her arm. “Don’t you ever do that again! You scared us!”

Hal chuckled and let Mira help him to his feet. “Thanks,” he said to the Dragoon.

For once, Elora was directing her ire at somebody else who didn’t deserve it. Ashera blushed and took it without complaint. Their eyes locked for a moment, the lamora gave him a slight nod that he returned.

He would keep her secret. Using Dominate on her had been the only way to save her, but it still didn’t sit right with him. If he never used it again on another person, he would die happy. It was worth it to have the Sigil if only so Rinbast couldn’t.

“Everything good?” Angram asked, jogging up to the group. He looked at Hal. “Hal, you got a little….” He motioned all over his face with a grin, indicating the old blood from his nose that he had wiped across his upper lip and cheek.

“Ha. Ha. Aren’t you two supposed to be keeping watch?” Hal asked, trying to deflect attention back to the very real danger all around them.

Mira patted him on the back. “We’re fine. Nothing around for miles that I could see with the exception of a small… weird pond up ahead about a mile maybe? It was through the forest.”

“Weird how?” Hal asked.

The Dragoon drove the butt of her halberd into the dirt and leaned on it. “It was shaped like a heart. And… well, when I looked at it my Quest prompt updated in a really strange way.”

“How so?”

“You know how it usually kinda recaps what you’ve done and updates along the way? This time it seemed to be talking to me. It now says, ‘Komachiiiii.’ With like five I’s. I’ve never heard of Komachi before.”

Your Deception has risen to Level 7.

+1% Deception success (+7%).

+0.5% Deception awareness (+3.5%).

-0.5% Reputation loss (-3.5%).

Hal stared at the prompt curiously and at the sensation he knew came from the skill. Mira had just flat-out lied. “You’re right,” Hal said, looking over at Elora gesticulating wildly at Ashera. “That is weird.”

4

Angram offered a canteen and a clean cloth to Hal. Unsure whether he was teasing him further, Hal took the offering nonetheless and wiped the blood from his face. All while pondering exactly why Mira had lied. He had known her to be cagey about things but he couldn’t work out the angle for deceit here.

Just because he was healed didn’t immediately clean off the evidence of his earlier injuries. Or anything else.

While Ashera was talking to Elora and there seemed to be a moment of peace before they had to either press on toward Elora’s enigmatic Quest, or turn back, Hal decided to allocate his stats.

Leaning heavily into his new Beast Magic perk, Convergence, which allowed him to use a portion of INT and CHR in place of STR and DEX while Splicing, Hal had put most of his newfound points into INT, CHR, and MND.

[Status]

Hal Williams

Level: 31

Discordant Stone: 4,910 /55,000

Strain: 0/50

BP: 15/15

Classes

Beastborne: 16

Novice: 10

Oathforger: 5

Resources

HP: 440/440 (+75)

SP: 375/375

MP: 565/565 (+75)

Attributes

STR: 10 (+4)

VIT: 20 (+5)

DEX: 10 (+2)

AGI: 10 (+2)

INT: 37 (+7)

MND: 45 (+5)

CHR: 30 (+16)

Regeneration

HP/hr: 63.7

SP/hr: 56.7

MP/hr: 153.6

Resistances

Fire: 25

Ice: 0

Wind: 0

Earth: 0

Lightning: 0

Water: -25

Light: 0

Dark: 0

Defensive Properties

DEF: 51

MDEF: 42

Insulation: 35

Modifiers

+10% Movement Speed [Leaping Boots].

+10 MP per kill [Spaulder of the Ravenblessed].

Monster Affinity

Beastmen

Goblin: 300%

Arcana

Shadow: 325%

Mimic: 125%

Doll: 105%

Undead

Aberration: 265%

Plantoid

Treant: 285%

Planttrap: 15%

Outsider

Eldritch: 300%

Vermin

Insect: 75%

Class Affinity

Warrior: 100%

Thief: 85%

Survival Skills

Stealth: 6

Darkvision: 4

Survival: 4

Perception: 17

Investigation: 10

Manatree: 1

Combat Skills

Improvised Weaponry: 14

Sword: 14

Parry: 7

Evasion: 12

Magic Skills

Enfeebling: 14

Beast Magic: 17

Crafting Skills

Alchemy: 1

Social Skills

Leadership: 19 (+5)

Persuasion: 14

Exploration: 4

Deception: 7

Mercantile: 2

Intimidation: 2

He was beginning to look and feel like a proper adventurer.

The farther west they went away from any known civilization the wilder and fiercer the world became. Creatures that were of comparable size to what he might have found back home were at least twice as large. And three times as aggressive.

It was like the absence of people and any semblance of a settlement was some sort of steroid for the local fauna. Gazelles that could nearly tip over their massive wagons with a single bound were scary enough but the carnivorous Noxis that they just fought were by far the most disturbing of all.

Their shells were abnormally hard, all but [Brilliance] with its stunningly keen edge struggled to break through the creature’s black carapace. Once broken through their blood was caustic and burned through most armor quickly.

And though he hadn’t seen it in person, Angram told him that the creatures had a wide conal poisonous breath attack. And that it was powerful enough that it could knock a person out who was only partially hit.

A few days ago after Leveling Up to 30, Hal was finally able to wear most of the bequeathed equipment from Thirty-Seven. And in some cruel twist of fate, most of it was Class-Locked.

Aside from the [Bomb Ring], [Lunette Ring], and [Brilliance], all of the gear required that he had Paladin unlocked. Taking another glance at his stats, he didn’t even have the affinity for the Class.

He doubted he ever would.

Thirty-seven and himself were about as far apart in personality and skillset as it seemed possible to have with another freakish alternate timeline version of yourself.

“Thanks, Angram,” Hal said, offering the bloodied rag to the Ranger who eyed it disdainfully.

“You can keep it,” Angram said with a faint grimace.

For being so used to living and surviving in the wilds, the deeply tanned, ruby-eyed elf Ranger was always meticulously groomed. He didn’t notice it when he first met him but lately Angram was joining Hal on his various excursions into the countryside and it was hard to ignore.

Noth often stayed with the caravan, leaving an empty slot in Hal’s party available for Angram. Though with his Leadership at Level 19, he was right on the cusp of getting another slot for his party. Provided what Thirty-seven said was correct, of course.

With that perk – which he planned to get immediately – he would be able to have a total of six people in his party instead of the typical five. It may not seem like much but as his Leadership and Oathforger went up, he gained party-centric buffs and improvements which would become more powerful with additional party members.

The Leadership perk, Party Tactics gave a bonus to damage and defense to all nearby members of the same party, increasing both by 2% per party member. For a standard party fighting together, that would be a hefty 10% boost to both damage and defense. With his extended party, that’d be 12%.

What he was most keen on was the way Ultimates generated. While in a party of at least 3 people fighting, your Ultimate began to generate based on more variables than Hal could keep straight. But the key point was that the more people that worked together the faster the generation for each person.

It fostered tactics and cooperation.

A glance at his HUD told Hal that his Ultimate was at 45%. High, considering the relatively short fights they’d been through recently. Unfortunately, as they were out of combat, the Ultimate bar was already beginning to degrade.

In a few minutes, it would halve itself. A few minutes more and it would be gone. Ultimates were particularly fickle.

“I am fine, Elora, really,” Ashera was saying, pushing the concerned Ranger away and coming over to Hal and the rest of the party. “Will you tell her that I am fine to continue on? I would like to see this strange quest of Elora’s completed but if she will not stop hovering like a mother hen I will lose my mind.”

Hal chuckled and looked between the two. Ashera was the only one Elora ever worried about. They had a long and complicated history that stretched its roots deep into their childhood years.

He guessed if any of his old friends managed to stick around him for so long he would worry about them like family as well.

His worry for Ashera was more immediate considering she lost her healing powers. But he also promised he would keep her secret. For now.

In either case, the majority of them only sported minor bruises and cuts. Nothing that they couldn’t weather with time. Not to mention, the trip back to the caravan was probably just as long as pressing on. They were likely to get attacked or be forced to fight something whether they chose to return to the caravan or not.

Though Hal would have preferred to return to the caravan, he chose to back up Ashera. “She’s fine. I say we continue on so we can unravel this little mystery Quest you have, Elora. That way we can continue on to the Crystal Groves and the Mirrorlands beyond. Luda says she knows a way to get in that might be easier on all of us while offering the caravan a way to stock up on some rare supplies.”

Elora looked between the pair and frowned. She could tell something was amiss with Ashera but she didn’t know what. That much was plain to see. And though she didn’t seem to fully trust Hal, she was clearly very interested in the sudden Quest that appeared for her.

In the end, she relented. “If you say you’re fine and Hal agrees, then let’s go and get this over with,” Elora said. The look she shot Ashera said she wasn’t done worrying over her.

Taking point, Elora led the group through the copse of thick towering trees. Like the wildlife, the trees and plants had grown to staggering sizes as well. In some ways, it felt like they had been shrunk.

Flowers as big as Hal’s head bloomed a riot of color wherever they could find a sunny break in the dense canopy overhead. Vines thicker than Hal’s thigh hung in girthy green ropes like forgotten garden hoses across the high tree branches. Many of which were ten feet around or more.

Meaning to take advantage of his relative safety, Hal checked over [Brilliance’s] stats again. He had the pick of nearly all of Durvin’s stock but most of it wasn’t suited for him or his fighting style.

Dwarves, unsurprisingly, made equipment that was heavy and sturdy. Finding something that was unrestrictive and light enough that it didn’t slow him down had been a challenge.

[Equipment]

Brilliance

[Sword] (Heroic)

Item Level: 40

DMG: 29

+5 VIT | +2 STR | +5 CHR

+10% Damage to Blinded targets

Enchantment: Flash

DUR: 500/600

Chain of Binding

[Improvised] (Uncommon)

Item Level: 18

DMG: 12

Enchantment: Binds to most surfaces.

DUR: 320/450

Mana-Tempered Circlet

[Head] (Rare)

Item Level: 20

DEF: 4

MDEF: 6

DUR: 367/375

Shaper’s Coat

[Body] (Legendary)

Item Level: 30

DEF: 12

MDEF: 10

+6 INT | +5 MND

Insulation: 8

DUR: 772/800

Spaulder of the Ravenblessed

[Shoulders] (Epic)

Item Level: 25

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

+1 INT

Restores 10 MP per kill.

Insulation: 5

DUR: 383/600

Lv. 10 All Classes

Splinted Lucidian Brass Gauntlets

[Hands] (Rare)

Item Level: 20

DEF: 4

MDEF: 5

+2 DEX

Insulation: 5

DUR: 587/600

Brave Belt

[Waist] (Epic)

Item Level: 17

DEF: 5

+2 STR

Insulation: 2

DUR: 300/400

Lv.5 All Classes

Tough Lineste Leather Breeches

[Legs] (Rare)

Item Level: 20

DEF: 11

MDEF: 12

+2 AGI

Insulation: 8

DUR: 787/800

Leaping Boots

[Feet] (Rare)

Item Level: 20

DEF: 5

MDEF: 5

+10% Movement Speed

Insulation: 7

DUR: 400/500

Bomb Ring

[Ring] (Heroic)

Item Level: 45

+75 HP

DUR: 288/300

Lv.32 All Classes

Lunette Ring

[Ring] (Heroic)

Item Level: 45

+75 MP

DUR: 290/300

Lv.28 All Classes

He still didn’t know how to trigger [Brilliance’s] flash enchantment. It didn’t seem to respond to any command word he could think of and trying to will the sword to do it didn’t seem to do anything.

One day, I’ll figure it out.

5

Though Durvin had better boots among his stock, none of them came with the 10% Movement Speed modifier, making Hal’s [Leaping Boots] better than anything the surly dwarf could have provided him.

In fact, the equipment he could wear was wildly disappointing. He was still missing equipment from several slots. His neck, both ears, and his back. Not to mention he lacked any kind of ranged weapon.

The goods Clan Bouldergut had were far from the sort you’d expect to find at a jeweler. They had good sturdy tools and a surfeit of dwarven-made weapons and armor but they lacked some of the fineries that would have filled Hal’s equipment slots.

With a shrug, Hal picked up the pace to get alongside Ashera toward the middle of their group. Angram took the right flank while Mira took the left, leaving Hal or Ashera to anchor them.

At the moment that meant Hal and Ashera were relatively alone.

“You mind telling me what you were thinking back there?” he asked. “You know you can’t heal.” Hal waved an arm to indicate the party at large. “They don’t know that. What will you do if somebody gets hurt because you don’t want to tell them you lost your healing?”

Despite having sided with her – and agreeing with her, though she didn’t need to know that – he wanted to know how far she was willing to go to hide her loss of power.

He had seen a very different side of her within the deepest reaches of her soul. And to his dismay, she had shown herself to be an exceedingly capable liar even though she ultimately chose not to lie to him.

That she had been so ready with lies he would have believed had forced him to reassess his view of Ashera.

As the healer of the group, Ashera took on a pivotal role. Without a healer, they would need to carry – and make – many more potions and change a few of their tactics.

It was ridiculous how easy it was to begin relying on a person that could touch you and close up the worst of your wounds in seconds. It made it easy to take greater and more reckless risks because you knew so long as you didn’t die immediately you had a good chance to be on your feet again moments later.

Now that Ashera was out of commission, if anybody was fatally wounded they were screwed.

Ashera folded her arms, rounding her shoulders in a hunch Hal recognized as a stress reaction. He bit his lip, wondering if he pressed her too hard.

Placing a hand on her back he said, “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I told you I’d back you up and I will. But Ashera, they have to be told. You know how often we rely on your healing. Eventually, we’ll have to do something about this.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she glanced to the side to look at Hal. She nodded. “I know, but I figured that we are just as likely to get attacked going back than going forward. This way, Elora can finish her Quest and we can continue on. When we are back at camp… I will stay there when you go out. You could bring Buffrix along. His powers of healing are different from mine but they are no less potent.”

Hal pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was afraid you’d recommend him. I love the little guy but a stiff breeze could knock him out.” The look Ashera gave him was wry and she almost turned up the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, yeah,” Hal said, brushing off the look. “I know you could have said the same of me not too long ago. I’ll give him a shot.”

“I will work on it,” she promised. “But Hal… there is a very real possibility I may not be able to heal again. At least not in the way I am used to. It is no small thing to break a Covenant.”

“About that,” Hal began, but a shout to the side had them both readying their weapons and turning to face the threat Angram called out.

The lithe elven Ranger fell from the branch he was perched on. Like a cat, he managed to twist in the air and stick a three-point landing. Angram leaped out of the way just in time to avoid a large blurred form that dove at the ground, throwing up thick clods of dirt from the impact.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Hal assured her, coating his body in shadow essence.

Angram straightened, slinging his bow over his shoulder and pulling free twin curved swords. “Watch out,” he said, seeing Hal race to his side. “It’s fast, whatever it is.”

The obscuring cloud of debris began to fade but there was still no sign of the creature. When the dust finally settled, there was nothing but the impact site. Both of them looked around, wary.

There was only one place it could have gone. “The ground,” Hal called out. “Look for anything digging through the dirt, it’s got to be burrowing.”

Even as he spoke the ground began to rumble beneath their feet and the grass bulged, lifting the pair. The orange-gold glow of his Premonition trait triggered in a column, warning him of the danger to come. They barely had time to dive to the side before the creature burst through and took to the air.

Hal got a good look at it as he rolled to the side and got to his feet. It was a large bird of some kind with shimmering blue-black feathers but it had some strange spiny protrusions all over its body.

The creature twisted in the air and extended its ten-foot wingspan to halt its momentum. It hung there for a heartbeat before it dove straight at Hal like a missile.

Hal stood his ground, crouching and tensing the muscles in his legs. The more he fought monsters the more he began to understand them as a whole. On some level that he couldn’t explain, he knew that this creature was going to attempt to dive and impale him. If it couldn’t, it would burrow back under the ground and attack somebody else.

The closer the creature came, the more he was sure what it was about to do. It was almost as if he had the Azure Lore perk. Only, that perk required that he touch them to gain insight into their next attacks and what they were thinking. This was something different, a mirroring of intent that he could read like his own thoughts.

At the last moment, Hal sprang away with all the gathered shadow-infused strength he could manage. It was a narrow miss, Hal could feel the rush of wind from the creature.

As the bird-creature crashed into the dirt, Hal slapped a hand to the grass below him and cast Enchainment. Thick spectral chains sprang up from the dirt and lashed around the creature, halting its momentum so suddenly that Hal heard the thing’s neck snap from several feet away.

You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv.24].

You absorb 35 Aberration Essence.

Monster Attunements Available.

Aberration: 1

You gain 600 Experience Points.

You earn 50 Sparks.

You obtain:

- 1 [Bundle of Crystalline Feathers]

- 1 [Vial of Aberrant Blood]

Flork, he thought, getting to his feet. I was going to try out Soul Drain on it. Though hitting the next tier of Aberration Attunement is a pretty good consolation prize.

Hal rolled his wrist, looking around for any more of the creatures. The forest was silent. A squawk echoed in the boughs above, followed by another shortly after and another after that. More than a dozen of the creatures squawked back and forth to each other, communicating.

Elora and Mira were the farthest away, Ashera was close by but when the cawing began, none of them dared move. It felt as if the slightest movement might trigger them.

Aberration Essence? Hal looked at the dead Corvid Stalker not too far away. It wasn’t terribly strong but if dozens attacked them – and without a healer – they would be sorely pressed.

Small features that were easy to miss at a distance or during its swift divebombs became clearly visible. Instead of a single eye, it had a cluster of three right behind a larger milky-white eye. Its feathers were black and oily with a blue sheen. But they didn’t ruffle in the wind, they were hard as glass.

And those spines that stuck out of it at regular intervals looked like bone. The longer Hal looked at the creature the more disturbing mutations he discovered.

He didn’t have much time to look though, as the canopy overhead suddenly went silent. The creatures nesting within began their attack.

One black-streaking man-sized mutated crow fell from the canopy and gouged a line through Ashera’s armor, spraying bright red blood into the air. She recovered quickly enough to dodge the second but her left arm hung limply at her side, trailing a stream of blood.

Elora bellowed a warcry that would have given any sane animal pause. But Hal realized why he understood these things better. As part of gaining more aberration essence, his connection to that type of creature grew. He understood them like an old enemy he had studied many times over.

They were not afraid.

They were altered, mutated into an unthinking horde of creatures that would mercilessly attack anything in their territory. Now that Hal’s group had attracted their attention, there was no distance they could put between them that would stop the creatures.

They were out for blood and wouldn’t stop until either Hal’s party or the Corvids were dead.

Another Corvid divebombed Ashera and would have taken her in the shoulder if Elora’s well-placed shot hadn’t hit the creature first. Knocked off course, the Corvid squawked in protest and landed on the ground in a flurry of black crystal feathers and talons.

Ashera joined Elora, who was already sighting down another drawn arrow. As remarkable as Elora was, Hal could already tell they were outmatched. He counted at least three dozen distinct calls. Though he couldn’t see even a quarter of their number as the branches high above them shifted and creaked ominously.

Another Corvid divebombed at Mira. The lean Dragoon shot into the air, her signature move for removing herself from danger. It was the calling card of her Fabled Class.

It also made her vulnerable to enemies that could fly and swarm her.

As soon as Mira invaded their air space, the Corvids that had been lying in wait attacked en masse. The air above was filled with streaking black blurs as they struck her, one after the other.

In a matter of seconds, the air cleared and all that remained was the falling, bloodied form of Mira. Her HP went from full to red-lining. In less time than it took to yell her name, the Corvids had taken out one of their strongest fighters.

And now they didn’t have a healer.

6

“Mira!” Hal called out as the Dragoon fell, but she didn’t respond.

Sonnuva bench! He would never make it in time. And the way Mira was falling, head-first, she was liable to break her neck if the Corvids didn’t finish her first.

Hal tried something he never had before. He took a moment to focus, to feel his shadow essence, and to force it into his legs. What he needed now was speed. As much of it as possible.

Usually, whenever he used Convergence it was a general empowering of his entire body. But this time he bent all of his willpower to making just his legs stronger and faster.

Even as he did, he took off toward the falling Dragoon. Each step grew stronger, blasting out thick chunks of sod and earth with each press. He was so focused on getting to Mira that he hardly registered the speed he was moving at.

Dropping [Brilliance] at the last moment, Hal skidded to his knees and held out his arms to catch Mira. They collided solidly, the impact knocked Hal sideways – he had misjudged the descent slightly – and they rolled across the ground.

Hal did his best to wrap his arms around Mira’s unconscious form, trying to shield her. They came to a stop with the Dragoon limp and unmoving atop Hal. Rolling her onto her back, Hal checked to make sure she was still breathing and had a pulse.

It wasn’t necessary. It would have been keenly evident in the status of her HP bar from the party menu but some habits were hard to break.

Unfortunately, his inability to adapt to his new reality on Aldim cost him. The few seconds he could have been looking for threats were now expended.

And the Corvids were launching another series of attacks.

Hal picked up his blade and hopped to his feet. He barely rose to his full height before four Corvids crashed into him. He struck one with [Brilliance], the ring of his sword against the creature’s beak numbed his arm but saved him from the worst of the monster’s attack.

He lashed out with the [Chain of Binding] at another, setting his feet and giving a mighty essence-infused tug, forced the creature to caw in surprise and crash into the third Corvid.

The sound of their hardened feathers as they collided was like a chandelier shattering upon the floor.

But it wasn’t enough. Whatever speed he managed to give himself was gone and a deep fatigue settled in his legs despite the infusion of shadow essence.

The last Corvid struck him in the thigh with its massive wing, just barely missing him with its spear-like spines that erupted all over its body. The crystalline feathers shattered and splintered into his armor.

He chain-cast Warding on each of his companions. Runic, multi-layered barriers that greatly reduced damage to a single type of enemy. In this case, the rabid Corvids.

You cast Warding on [Ashera].

You cast Warding on [Mira].

You cast Warding on [Angram].

You cast Warding on [Elora].

The spell’s description didn’t fully make sense when he first received it and only after his own experimentation did he understand it.

Warding

Shield an ally with layered protective runes. Each layer provides a stacking 10 Resistance to a given entity, resulting in a total of 50 Resistance against the first hit from that entity. Each layer of protective runes vanishes from a single attack of the specified entity. Attacks from other creatures do not affect the spell. Additional casts refresh the effect.

Every point of Resistance was the same as saying 1% less damage taken. Each layer of the spell granted a 10% stacking damage reduction to a given enemy, starting at 50% and reducing by 10% each time that person was attacked by that specific enemy.

Unfortunately, as with other facets of Oathforger, it only affected his allies. He could not cast the spell on himself.

When used properly, it was a potent spell that he could use to protect his friends. He hadn’t reacted fast enough before but he was on top of it now. He had the MP to cast it many times, refreshing the layered barrier whenever it seemed somebody was about to take a bigger hit.

It was all he could do to keep them on their feet.

Despite the liberal use of Warding, his friends weren’t faring much better. They had gathered around Ashera as much to protect her as to benefit from her healing. But without that healing, those diving runs were racking up a lot of damage.

None of them were above 75% HP.

The Corvids could smell blood and it drove them into a frenzy.

Cawing and squawking filled the air. Blood ran freely down each of their bodies as they struck back and dodged as best they could. But even when one of the divebombs failed, another could explode from the ground below them.

Perhaps, most devastating of all, were their obsidian-sharp feathers. A single brush broke the brittle things and caused splintering shrapnel to pelt those nearby.

Gathering strength in his legs again, Hal could see only one way they could make a dent in such a large group. Individually they weren’t weak but as a whole they were overwhelming.

And his party needed a great deal of healing that was only growing with each passing second.

As much as Hal had embraced the truth of his person and realized how pivotal Thirty-seven’s words were about the Founder Sigils, he still couldn’t bring himself to use them constantly.

Knowing that he was so close in history and personality to Rinbast, he felt dirty using the Sigils. The deep, yearning desire to use them – even above Beast Magic – disturbed him most of all.

Rinbast surely used them to devastating effect and he feared that part of himself that was too much like the Founder. But the truth was, if he ever hoped to challenge the man, he would need to embrace the Sigils as a weapon as well.

Not doing so would be to leave himself open. Vulnerable.

And if Thirty-seven was correct that only one of them could have any given Sigil at one time, any Sigil Hal discovered was one weapon removed from Rinbast’s arsenal.

What essence-infused strength he could gather into his legs was severely diminished from his earlier attempt. Hal didn’t understand why he was suddenly so much weaker but he couldn’t waste any time thinking about it.

He sprang into the air in a weak facsimile of what Mira had done earlier, knowing it would incense the frenzied creatures to attack him. He needed them out in the open for this to work.

The bottom of his stomach dropped out from his surge into the air and fear stole over his heart as he saw the crisscrossing shimmering glow of Premonition warning him of countless impending attacks. Dozens of black shapes turned and launched themselves from the high branches directly at him.

Hal extended his free hand, letting the [Chain of Binding] dangle, wrapped around his wrist. His fingers curled like talons of his own.

Even under the sleeve of his [Shaper’s Coat], Hal could see the shining glow of his Founder’s Mark with the moonlight glow of the Manatree insignia as he summoned Dominate to ensnare each of the Corvids diving for him.

Normally, he wouldn’t be able to Dominate this many. But with Shae’kathoth’s Soul, his capacity for domination was doubled. That only made the ability feel even darker.

But at the moment, he was secretly grateful.

Well over two dozen Corvids suddenly blossomed as tiny motes of awareness in his mind. He had only a few scant seconds to redirect each of them to stop his own body being impaled a dozen times over.

Focusing all his willpower onto the unthinking creatures, Hal managed to narrowly avoid killing himself or his new pets. Once they were clear of each other, he set them to attack the wild Corvids.

He needed to reduce their number as fast as possible.

The Corvids crashed into each other as he felt a sickening tearing sensation deep in his chest. His HP dropped a third, then a third of that, then again, leaving him with a sliver of HP remaining.

Hal fell from the sky as limply as Mira had. Blinded by pain, Hal managed to guide a single Corvid to brace his fall as he hit the sharp glassy feathers and rolled off onto the ground at Mira’s side.

Recognizing Hal as a friend, the feathers didn’t shatter or harm him. If they had, he wouldn’t have survived them.

In his exuberance to save his friends, to make a difference, he made a grave mistake.

Unlike normal spells, Founder Sigil’s were powered by EXP. And Hal just tried to Dominate over two dozen creatures at once without enough EXP for even half that.

The resulting trauma ripped through his body as the Sigil pulled vital energies from wherever it could to satisfy the constraints of the invoked Sigil.

The bird beside Hal spread its wings to shield both himself and Mira from the Corvids he didn’t have under his control.

Those above that could still fly dove into their unsuspecting brethren. The cacophonous squawking and cawing that had saturated the air just a moment ago was transformed into screeching and the crackling flutter of glassy wings.

Crystalline feathers rained onto the forest floor as the two factions of Corvids attacked each other. The wild Corvids were quick to turn on their traitorous kind, granting the group a slight reprieve as all attention was turned to the complex web of branches above.

Through the strain of it all, Hal managed to have enough presence of mind to tap his Assimilation, draining all of his SP and what was left of his MP to pull himself back to full HP. He reached a hand out to the Corvid sheltering them and used Assimilation on it, killing it and transferring all of its life over to Mira with a touch.

As one of the few in the caravan that Hal had the Sympathy trait with, he could use Assimilation to share vital resources. And since a dominated creature counted as an extension of himself, he could use the Corvids to heal her.

In fact, he could heal more than just Mira.

As the Dragoon began to rouse, her wounds sealing shut before his eyes, Hal wondered about the distance of Assimilation. In his near-death state, he lost [Brilliance] somewhere, but it freed up his other hand.

Reaching skyward, Hal focused on each of the Corvids he had under his control. He concentrated on them, feeling them as keenly as he could feel each of his fingers. And with a great wave of malicious thought, drained what HP and SP they had – unsurprisingly they had no MP – and directed that into each of his party members.

Streaks of red, green, and blue light fell like rain upon himself and his friends, restoring each of them to full while destroying well over two-thirds of the Corvids.

It was a good thing he gained Sympathy with them since leaving Murkmire.

Those that his use of Assimilation didn’t kill, Hal sent on suicidal diving runs at the remaining creatures not under his control.

The ground was littered with crashing Corvid bodies. His vision flooded with the prompts of their deaths. Items rained into his Inventory and he found he could not focus on the prompts as consciousness began to fail him.

You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 24]

You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 26]

You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 22]

You defeat the [Corvid Stalker | Lv. 27]

…

Before several of the creatures made contact with the ground they vanished in a puff of purple smoke, filling him with essence.

The effort wasn’t without its cost, what EXP they gave was largely taken up by the cost of Dominating them. Though Hal was restored, his strength was spent.

Darkness closed in and whisked Hal away from the sounds of battle. Even the acid-burn of gaining more essence didn’t rouse him.

7

Ashera leaned back, narrowly avoiding a talon attack from one of the few Corvids left after Hal’s grandiose display. His Warding barrier of shifting layered runes still covered her but she wasn’t about to waste its protections by being reckless.

She swung her mace in retaliation. The cruelly ridged metal blades that lined the thick head bent and shattered with the blow. The head of the mace crumbled as if its very core had rusted away. The entire thing rotted in her hand until she was defenseless.

A growing trend that was fast becoming tiresome.

But she accepted it all in stride, leaving the [Stargiver] to become nothing more than a memory. Ashera pulled out a mace Hal had badgered her to get, if only as a backup. “We did pay for all these, you know,” he told her shortly after the caravan left Murkmire. “Might as well select one you like. Even if you never use it. No harm in carrying a backup, is there?”

She shook her head as she tested the weight of the [Tenderizer]. It was far heavier than her [Stargiver], not to mention it wasn’t even a mace. The Dwarves, it seemed, did not quite grasp the concept of a mace.

But hammers? Those they understood. The [Tenderizer] was a “maul”, though the Dwarves appeared to think that meant, “really big hammer.” As far as Ashera was concerned it was a tactless weapon that she would have difficulty controlling with any degree of skill.

Though she hadn’t lost any of the stats from Sin Keeper, where most of her STR came from, she still found the [Tenderizer] unwieldy. It had four large gold-ringed circular hammerheads. Durvin had suggested it for her. “Don’t matter where ye swing it, this weapon’ll hit yer target and make it think twice afore it bothers ye again, lass.”

A nice sentiment but the additional heads made the weapon heavy and its long handle felt awkward in her grip.

Relaxing her grip on the handle, Ashera moved her hands closer to the spiked pommel at the base as another Corvid slipped through Angram’s whirling blades.

Instead of waiting for it to come to her, Ashera took two large strides towards the creature. It opened its black beaked maw, showing row upon row of black glinting ridges disturbingly similar to teeth and yet clearly not.

With a twist of her hips, she swung the hammer in a backswing. So used to her smaller and more nimble mace, Ashera was surprised by the way the [Tenderizer] tugged at her arms. She couldn’t control the arc so much as hold on and hope it didn’t fly out of her grasp.

The Corvid lunged for her. She was caught out mid-swing. Ashera squeezed her eyes shut knowing she couldn’t get her weapon back under control to block.

It didn’t matter.

With a deep, satisfying crack the [Tenderizer] didn’t give the Corvid any time to realize its error. Ashera opened her eyes in time to see the horrifying creature make a bizarre, gurgling sound. Its beak shattered into a million obsidian fragments.

The thing’s neck spun around so violently that it didn’t even have time to realize it was dead. It crashed to the ground as Ashera quickly backpedaled away from it. The Corvid’s legs twitched and raked the air behind it for a few seconds before it was stilled.

Maybe I could get used to this, she thought.

Ashera looked down appraisingly at the [Tenderizer]. She was beginning to understand why the Dwarves favored these weapons.

While slow on the windup and fairly unwieldy, the latter didn’t matter if she was committed to every strike.

Due to her Sin Keeper Fabled Class, Ashera was typically reserved in her combat prowess. The Class required a lot of balancing of both healing and damage, managing Sin by harming an enemy to heal an ally.

Though she lacked the host of abilities and spells Sin Keeper granted, she was freed of its restrictive rules. Uncharacteristically Ashera waded into the fray, swinging the [Tenderizer] with wild abandon.

No more reserved and measured strikes. She swung with all her might and every blow that connected put down a Corvid. Those that didn’t immediately perish under the tremendous blow would quickly be ended by the competing weapons of her friends. Be it an arrow, a pair of curved swords, or a spear.

Though the Dragoon would only lend her aid every so often. Whenever she could mark an opening in their defensive ring around their downed friend, Hal.

They mopped up the remaining Corvids quickly after that. More often than not, Ashera led the way with a great sweeping swing of her new favorite weapon.

Had any of the Corvids survived the battle, they may have learned to fear Ashera’s sudden freedom from her restrictive Class and the identity she had misguidedly taken upon herself all those years ago.

She hardly recognized her own battle prowess until there remained no more Corvids for her to work out her inner-demons upon. Breathing hard from the thrill and effort of such a continuous fight, Ashera barely registered the concerned glances from her friends.

“Ashera… is everything okay?” Angram asked, edging toward her like she was some feral animal.

Taking a look down at herself, she could see why. Her dark metal plate mail was splattered in black blood. It smeared across her face from when she hit one Corvid that, quite alarmingly, exploded into a cloud viscera and gore.

Ashera holstered her [Tenderizer] and turned with a subdued smile to Angram. “I am fine.”

His stance relaxed, and the observant once-Sin Keeper didn’t miss the way it spread across her allies. Hal lay still and unconscious, unaware the battle had concluded without him.

Would he have looked at her with such concern and worry?

Ashera shook her head and forced a smile onto her face. “Unless somebody wants to carry Hal, I suggest we take a moment to make camp and recover for a little until he regains awareness,” Ashera suggested. “It would be well worth the risk of drawing additional monsters. We could take this time to eat and gather ourselves before pressing on.”

Since nobody objected, Ashera began taking out her pot and kettle to make some tea and a late afternoon meal. Glancing at Hal, she couldn’t help but think that he would not have judged her.

Out of all their company, Hal would have understood her desire to lash out the most. Her need to free herself from the restrictive binding chains that had kept her safe and yet a prisoner at the same time for so long.

Elora and Angram set up a campfire away from the bloodstained ground while Mira dragged Hal over beside them. When the campfire was roaring in earnest, Elora sidled up alongside Ashera. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, her voice pitched low so nobody else could hear.

Ashera shrugged her shoulders, feeling the form-fitting metal plates slide and clink. She kept her focus on the meal, with 22 Levels in Cooking, Ashera could whip up a meal faster than any of them. She made it taste pretty good too with her Practiced Perfection perk.

Without her healing from Sin Keeper, she would need to rely heavily on her other talents. Aside from Attendant, Occultist was her only other Class. The former was neither strong nor illustrious and the latter was… not something she preferred to use if she could avoid it.

They would have to do until she could figure out her path forward.

“Are you sure?” Elora pressed. “I couldn’t help but notice you weren’t using your healing. Is everything all right?”

Biting back the first snappish reply – Elora didn’t deserve that, the woman had a hard enough time showing she cared, Ashera didn’t need to make it any harder – she shook her head and said, “No, it is not all right.”

Feeling Elora’s hand grab her own nearly broke her. Ashera stopped what she was doing and turned to face the normally stoic Ranger. She squeezed her hand and fought back the moisture that rimmed her eyes.

“Tell me,” Elora urged.

Rip it off quick and clean, Ashera reminded herself. “I broke my Covenant. I lost all access to my Sin Keeper Class unless I recant and receive absolution. I… can’t heal anymore.” Ashera quickly dropped her gaze.

At least not in the way anybody would accept, she thought sourly.

The gasp from Elora made Ashera look up from the dirt. Her beautiful features twisted into horror and sympathy. Ashera let out a mournful sigh. “It would be best that I tell everybody sooner rather than later.”

It would seem Hal was right. She smiled ruefully and continued preparing their meal, cutting up the forearm-sized [Dura Carrots] and dicing the [Muffalo Steak] she had in her Inventory. This meal needed to be something special so she also took out a few sprigs of [Flavormint] and some [Silversalt].

Elora stayed close by, lending what support she could to Ashera. Mira, in a rare bout of tenderness, washed the few cuts and scrapes from Hal’s face. For just a moment there was a real moment of affection as the usually flippant Dragoon studied Hal’s sleeping features.

Then she caught Ashera looking and immediately dropped Hal’s head to the soft ground and scooted away from him, mumbling about something the lamora couldn’t hear.

When everything was prepared and the meal was nearly done, Ashera looked up at each of them. “You probably are all wondering why Hal did more healing than I did,” she said without preamble.

“The thought crossed my mind once or twice,” Angram agreed.

“I figured you were letting him flex on you so he could feel like a big boy,” Mira added.

Undeterred, Ashera continued, “I am no longer able to heal. I knew this day would eventually come, but admittedly I did not think it would be so soon. By siding with Hal and openly – knowingly – betraying Rinbast’s interests, I have lost all access to the Covenant I was part of and that includes my Sin Keeper Class.”

There, it was out in the wild now.

8

For a while everybody was silent.

“What do you mean you lost it? You can’t just misplace something like that!” Mira cried.

Elora gave the elf a deadpan look. She turned and placed a hand on Ashera’s knee. “We’ll help you get through this,” she said, turning back toward Angram and Mira. “Won’t we.” Her forceful words brooked no disagreement.

Ashera had to admit, the bobbing heads of both Angram and Mira – two very headstrong elves – was a comical sight to behold.

“Well,” Mira said, poking the fire with a stick as she stared into the flames. “Do you have any other useful skills?” Angram slapped her shoulder. “Hey! I’m just being realistic.” She looked up at Ashera but couldn’t hold her gaze. “I meant nothin’ by it. Only, shirt’s dangerous out here y’know?”

In a very short time, Mira had endeared herself to Ashera. She was a brash one and often spoke her mind.

Not too dissimilar to a certain Ranger she knew. The difference was Mira was almost childlike in her outbursts. They were adorable and though they were sometimes crude or rough, Ashera could tell they came from a good place.

A place she doubted many others bothered to notice considering the Dragoon’s lack of Guild – aside from the Adventurer’s Guild and that didn’t count – or party when they first met. For a Fabled Class like Dragoon to be out on their own, she must have ruffled a lot of feathers.

“None that make me suitable as a party member,” Ashera answered. She would have to get used to being sidelined. Even if Hal objected, she would need to be firm. They couldn’t risk bringing somebody whose contribution would be as low as hers.

“I would make an excellent camp attendant, however,” she pointed out. “I am skilled in organization, cooking, preparing, and cleaning. It would give me some time to work on my Alchemy as well. While I cannot directly heal, I could make a store of [Health Potions] that would be of some use.”

Mira blinked and narrowed her eyes at her. “Seriously, you don’t have any other battle Classes?”

Ashera shook her head and was hardly surprised when she received a notification.

Your Deception has risen to Level 57.

+1% Deception success (+57%).

+0.5% Deception awareness (+28.5%).

-0.5% Reputation loss (-28.5%).

Her upbringing had been… very different. The fact that she had Sin Keeper at all was a remarkable deviation from where her life had been going.

A life of servitude, submission, and vile deeds that she would take with her to the grave.

Attendant would help greatly with Alchemy and Cooking but Occultist was practically useless because she would not venture down that dark road again.

And none of them would help her friends in battle. A deep unsettling fear laid upon her shoulders, bowing them. She would have to stay at camp, worrying over her friends. And if somebody was hurt there was nothing she could do.

“We can find a space for her,” Elora objected. “After all, we put up with Hal!” For added emphasis, she motioned to his sleeping body. The only member of the group that already knew of Ashera’s debilitation, not that Ashera would betray him by letting that slip.

Elora would have a stroke if she learned that Hal knew before her.

“Yes, and we did so because he could grow stronger,” Ashera reminded her. “As a Founder, we could help him shape who he wanted to be. We still can help him to become the man he wants to be. How rare an opportunity we were given, to shape a future leader without any limitations placed on him as they were on each of us?

“How many of us had already taken at least one Class if not two by the time we either decided or found what we wanted to be? Sure, we could take the onerous EXP penalty by taking a fourth Class but who in their right mind did that except as a last resort?”

A last resort that Ashera was deeply considering, despite the severe EXP penalty.

The pit in her stomach began to twist itself in knots. She tried to calm her breathing, letting the anxiety and fear wash over and through her.

This will pass, she reminded herself. This is not the time to break down, Ashera. Let it pass.

Breath by breath, the weight on her shoulders eased and she fell into a meditative calm. She could still feel her emotions swirling around her in a tumultuous mix of anxiety, depression, anger, and fear but they were apart from her now.

In her mind’s eye, Ashera stood in the eye of a raging storm. Both aware of the seething emotions whipping about her and removed from them at once.

If Sin Keeper wasn’t erased from her Classes and still counted as her third, that meant she would grow very slowly but at least she wouldn’t languish forever back at camp or the Sanctum once it was made.

“It is different,” Ashera said more forcefully. “I am not a Founder. Even if Hal did not gain in strength at such an alarming rate, protecting him had its use. If I die - do not give me that face, Elora death is a constant companion to us all - then I am one soul that is gone. If Hal dies, our dreams of freedom, of a Sanctum built on something other than fear and control is gone. It is different.”

Angram shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean we won’t help you get back on your feet. You don’t have to come with us on every hunt or to go investigate everything we find. But even without your Class, you swing one mean hammer. Did you see the way that one bird turned into a cloud of gore? By the way, you still have a bit of blood on your… everywhere.”

Ashera stirred the stew and tried not to fall prey to Angram’s teasing charms. One cracked smile, one laugh, and the man would be incorrigible. From then on it’d be his life’s goal to make you laugh again, only harder than last time.

She’d seen it time and time again over the years she’d known the ruby-eyed elf. But it was more than that. She feared if she let any emotion in, the rest would come crashing through.

And that, she couldn’t allow to happen. Not out here.

“I’ll be sure to take a bath at the first bathhouse we find,” she replied. Parts of her armor was a mess, but she had cleaned most of it up before preparing their food. The last thing anybody needed was contaminated food.

“Speaking of being naked,” Mira said. “What’re we going to tell Hal when he wakes up? You know he’s going to try to put on his big boy leader pants and try to find a replacement for you. Should we keep everything under wraps? Don’t look at me like that! I meant temporarily until Elora’s Quest is over. Jeez.”

“I’ll tell him,” Ashera said before anybody could offer. “He deserves to know. I believe he will see reason. We are just as likely to be attacked – more so probably – going back to the caravan just for you all to come back out again. Don’t give me that look, Elora. Nobody here is going to let you abandon your Quest.”

In truth, Ashera was pretty sure Hal was going to fight her tooth and nail about leaving her behind. Despite it being the proper thing to do. The right thing. But Hal, in her eyes, thought himself a better leader than he actually was.

Not that she held it against him.

He was yet green and new to the role. But Ashera could see where he was trying to tread new ground for the sake of being different. There was a reason the Cook did not travel with an adventuring party in most companies.

The mistakes he made were small things. Each was a heartfelt gesture of goodwill. The problem was, he needed to think less kind-heartedly about the way he managed his people.

There would come a time when doing the kind thing and the right thing would be at odds. She didn’t want to see him torn apart as he tried to reconcile the two.

Nor did she want to mold him into some overly rational leader who only looked at what the cold hard facts told him. It was a hard line to walk, she nudged him where she could but let him stumble and make his mistakes when he might learn from them.

I need to have a talk with Durvin, she thought to herself as she finished stirring the stew and declared it finished.

Aside from herself, Durvin was one of the few unofficial advisors that Hal routinely went to for advice. It was clear Hal looked up to the surly bronze-bearded Dwarf but what worked for dwarves did not work for every race.

There was a measure of loyalty and bonding that Hal would not have if he intended to keep an open and free society. So many different races and ideologies under one banner would create untold amounts of friction.

Each group would have their own desires and designs, many of them against what Hal wanted and many more against the overall good of the people.

Dwarves would pledge undying loyalty. They would even form Shieldguards in dire circumstances, sacrificing their lives to slow and wound an advancing enemy so that the others might make a clean retreat.

It prevented a slaughter but that was the dwarven way. It was simply understood you would give your life for another dwarf and vice versa.

Most races – particularly interracial relationships – did not operate that way.

If Hal continued to think peace and happiness could be found for every solution he was in for a rude wakeup call. He needed to be prepared for that inevitability before it happened.

Once everybody was served and Ashera had her own piping hot bowl of [Ashera’s Splendid Endurastew], she ladled out another bowl for Hal. While they ate in relative silence, Ashera took out a small capsule from her Inventory and set her bowl down.

She took the [Reviving Salts] in her palm and moved around the fire to where Hal rested. Cradling his head, she crushed the capsule in her palm and lifted it up to his nose. The faintly glittering powder rushed into his nose on his next breath.

Unlike other alchemical concoctions that were meant to create a violent reaction immediately, [Reviving Salts] caused a gradual return to one’s senses. She had hoped to avoid using it as even this mild medicine had some minor side effects.

But since he hadn’t woken up in over an hour, she decided it would be best to wake him up. Normally, she would have simply healed him or if he was afflicted by something – though if he was, she couldn’t tell what – cure the status effect.

This is my new life, she reminded herself. Resorting to alchemical tricks and concoctions instead of actual magic. She just wanted to help and protect her friends.

Was that so much to ask? This couldn’t be the end of her tale. There had to be a way she could be useful to her friends without giving up her soul.

Hal slowly came to, his brown eyes opened incrementally. Ashera smiled down at him but then realized from his expression that she probably missed some of the Corvid gore. Perhaps Angram hadn’t idly teased her.

She reached over to the bowl she had prepared for him and pressed it into his hands. “Here, you need to eat and drink something. The medicine I used to wake you gives terrible dry mouth.”

9

Ashera wasn’t kidding. When Hal swallowed, it sounded like he just poured milk all over a bowl of rice crispies.

He took out his canteen from his Inventory and downed it while holding onto the bowl Ashera gave him. The relief was deep and satisfying. It took him more than a minute of constant chugging to relieve the worst dry mouth he had ever experienced in his life.

Most of them had already eaten by the time Hal started his meal. Mira, Angram, and Elora went out to make sure there would be no more surprises, leaving Ashera alone with Hal at the campfire.

You eat [Ashera’s Splendid Endurastew].

+25% SP | +25% MP | +25% HP.

+15% Damage.

+10% SP Regen | +10% MP Regen | +10% HP Regen.

+10% Movement Speed | +15 Ice Resist.

You gain the effect of Camping.

+325% HP Regeneration.

+325% SP Regeneration.

+325% MP Regeneration.

+250% Healing effects.

Duration: While Camping.

“You told them?” Hal asked. Usually, around a campfire, the group was fairly talkative. When he came to, the quiet was the first thing that struck him as odd.

It wasn’t hard to guess the reason.

“I did.” Ashera didn’t meet his gaze. She looked miserable.

“How’d they take it?”

“About as well as I could have hoped.” She bit her lip so hard Hal was surprised it didn’t start bleeding. Still, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Well, what’re you going to do?” he prompted.

Her shrug was almost imperceptible, as if she lacked the strength to do that simple action of dismissal.

Hal didn’t press her any further. He didn’t know her process for dealing with something like this and it was a touchy subject besides.

Ashera had stayed by his side when he was weaker than a child. They all had. He wasn’t about to relegate her to a life where she stayed behind when everybody else went out to explore the world.

He couldn’t forget the deep, earnest happiness he’d seen on her face as she saw more of the world than she ever thought possible.

Whether she admitted it or not, she had the heart of an explorer. How cruel would it be to push her to the side and deny her that just because she was weaker now?

“That was delicious, Ashera,” Hal said holding up the empty bowl.

“Thank you,” came the automatic reply.

The next few hours were much the same. The pall of Ashera’s plight cast a spell of silence over the entire party. So it was in utter silence that the five companions made it to the pebbled beach of the strange heart-shaped lake.

There was a small, half-sunken island in the middle of the lake with the skeletal ruins of some stone archways and dangerously listing six-foot-high walls. A few well-worn pillars stuck out like broken bones from the water.

“This it?” Angram asked, turning to Elora.

She nodded and took a step deeper onto the pebbled beach, the water lapped gently at the stones and over her boots. As she took another step, an ancient slab of marble rose out of the water and greeted her boot.

Elora only paused a moment to consider the strangeness of it before continuing on. Blocks of slick marble rose out of the water to keep her a few inches above the water’s surface at all times.

Hal was about to follow her across but the marble blocks sank back into the dark water before he even took his first step. “Guess we’ll wait here,” Hal said.

More than a dozen feet out onto the lake, Elora looked over her shoulder at them. Her blue-gray eyes found Ashera’s, a meaningful look passed between them.

Hal could only guess at its meaning but when Elora turned back to the island her stride was sure and filled with purpose.

Ashera held her head a little higher as she watched Elora cross the lake.

Hal half expected the woods to burst forth with bloodthirsty creatures, but they stayed silent after the genocide of the corrupted Corvids. He shut his eyes and sent his senses out as far as they would go.

The higher his Monster Attunement was, the more he could discern about that type of creature. Though aberrations made his skin crawl, he was the most attuned to them by a cruel twist of fate. The glut of essence he gained from that last stunt pushed him up over 400%. And now he had 2 points to spend, entrenching himself even deeper.

Even without using Splice to tap into their essence, if he focused he could tell if they were around.

There was nothing.

Angram and Ashera both seemed relatively relaxed as well. Mira sat on the ground cross-legged with her shiny new halberd laid across her knees. Hal sat down beside her without a word. She looked over once before falling back into whatever she was doing.

Like Hal, she probably had some Inventory organization to do. The fight with the Corvids had awarded them all quite a lot of strange items. Despite a deliberate attempt to keep his Inventory as open as possible, Hal was already under 10 free spaces again.

While on the road, he had talked to Buffrix and the other koblins but none of them were able to add more slots than his max of 45 to his [Kobbiebag], the expanded-space bag that made handling his Inventory so much easier. It was the best part of being on Aldim.

The Inventory system of Aldim was tied with its stat system in his mind. Being able to wield actual magic was a close second. But there was simply no comparison to being able to stuff 500 pounds into a small sack and walk about as if it didn’t matter.

Speaking of stats, Hal took a glance at his EXP. With so many Corvids destroyed, he should be close to Leveling Beastborne.

After pulling up his Status, he saw an entirely different story. He only had 6,100 EXP. There were at least three dozen Corvids all told, even if all of them gave a small 400 EXP per- his thoughts ground to a screeching halt as he realized what happened.

How could he forget?

Using Dominate took a lot of EXP. Apparently, nearly killing him when he didn’t have the EXP to pay for the Sigil wasn’t enough. He wasn’t able to look at the time but he wouldn’t be surprised if it had made his EXP negative.

The concept of his Founder Sigils causing a debt of Experience was ridiculous and terrifying in equal measure. With a roll of his shoulders, he let it go. There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

It was worth it, despite the meager EXP gains.

EXP was only part of the equation. He needed items and materials for crafting as well. Hal fully intended to have a thriving economy in his Sanctum and one that prized high-quality goods. For that, he’d need to not only learn from the craftsmen that Luda brought with her but stockpile rare ingredients and sparks - the quasi-magical currency of Aldrim - along the way.

Hal took a look at his Inventory to see what spoils he received. Over the past week, he spent a lot of time with Ashera studying Alchemy and he was eager to see if there was anything useful.

Unlike a lot of the other Crafts like Blacksmith, Goldsmith, or Carpenter, Alchemy often used monster parts as much as classical reagents like purified water and mercury.

Originally, Hal just wanted to be able to understand how Crafting worked in this world. But the more he learned of Alchemy the more he was entranced with its subtleties and intricacies.

He thought to take up Blacksmith or Armorer at first. Making his own gear would be quite useful, especially considering the exorbitant prices that they went for. Hal was quickly leaning away from that now.

There was too much utility in Alchemy to be ignored. Especially for someone of his burgeoning magical talents.

Poisons, potions, buffs, weapon coatings, armor infusions, the list of what Alchemy could do went on and on. It did a little of everything and with its own unique flair. In a way, it felt like the perfect companion to Beastborne. Which also did a little of everything with its own specific twist.

Thankfully, his lack of EXP didn’t impact his ability to be flooded with loot from the Corvids. Not that he thought it would, but it was good to have confirmation.

With well over 50 items from the aberrant birds, it was a lot to sort through. In total, there were 7 types of items, unsurprisingly all of them were categorized as monster parts. Shocker.

[Inventory | 35/45]

25 [Bundle of Crystalline Feathers]

6 [Vial of Aberrant Blood]

20 [Withered Talons]

12 [Dessicated Eye Clusters]

8 [Corrupted Hearts]

2 [Crystalline Corvid Skulls]

5 [Crystalline Corvid Eyes]

Gross, he thought.

Being an Aberration, most of its drops were a result of its corruption. And, more than likely, due to the location’s proximity to the crystalline landscape a day’s ride away.

Rather than muse about the migratory patterns of mutated man-sized crows and how they managed to get from the crystalline lands to the west to this forested region, Hal inspected the [Vials of Aberrant Blood].

[Vial of Aberrant Blood]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Monster Part

Quality: Poor

Potency: 9

Stability: 3

Toxicity: 15

[Vial of Aberrant Blood]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Monster Part

Quality: Decent

Potency: 10

Stability: 5

Toxicity: 17

[Vial of Aberrant Blood]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Monster Part

Quality: Pristine

Potency: 12

Stability: 8

Toxicity: 20

…

With just his [Vials of Aberrant Blood], Hal had 3 different types of quality. If each quality type had its own Inventory slot, he would have been out of space after the first few kills.

Luckily, that wasn’t the case. But that just meant he needed to carefully examine them when using the vials in the future. Altogether he had 2 pristine, 1 poor, and 3 decent quality [Vials of Aberrant Blood].

As alchemical reagents, they each had a set of stats alongside them. Ashera hadn’t gotten to the in-depth explanations on Alchemy yet. While he could guess what grade, type, and quality were easily enough, he didn’t have a clue what potency, stability, or toxicity represented.

Hal made a mental note to ask Ashera about it once they were done here.

10

Hal looked toward Angram and Ashera off to the side having a private conversation. Each of them cast wary looks at the island in turn as they spoke. He could guess easily enough about what they were talking about.

Hal wasn’t worried about Elora. This was her Quest after all, and the Ranger was still leagues ahead of him in terms of skill if not entirely in strength.

He had recently made some serious gains in closing that gap but despite that, Hal was still the weakest of the group. At least, when his Founder Sigils and Beast Magic were discounted.

That wasn’t an entirely fair comparison in Hal’s eyes. That was like saying a Wizard was weak if you didn’t count his spells. Of course they’d be weak. That was the entire point of their Class.

Shutting his eyes again, Hal pushed out the errant thoughts and focused on his Monster Attunements. So far, shadow and treant have been the best pairing for him. In part because he was grossed out by aberration.

The amount of aberration essence he received seemed less than normal too. Something he chalked up to his higher attunement. If it was like EXP, it would be harder to get the higher his attunement with a given essence was.

Then again, he could be entirely wrong.

He had no idea what governed essences and without another Chimera Knight, let alone another Beastborne to talk to, he doubted he ever would without intensive experimentation.

Hal turned his attention to the list of Monster Attunements. With two points to spend, aberration might just be worth picking up again.

Despite his misgivings.

Monster Attunements Available

Aberration: 2

[Aberration Attunement: Sturdy Hide 1/1]

Unnatural life has given Aberrations the ability to take a hit and keep moving. Adapting their unique Essence to your own will increase your HP by 15%.

[Aberration Attunement: Monstrous Resistance 0/1]

Aberrations are remarkably adept at resisting magic, being creatures of undead corruption they possess the ability to shrug off some of the worst magic has to offer. While using Monstrous Resistance you have 15% Resistance to every element and its associated status effects.

[Aberration Attunement: Amorphous Skin 0/1]

Adapt the naturally amorphous nature of Aberration to suit your own needs. While using Amorphous Skin you have 25% resistance against blunt, force, and slashing damage.

[Aberration Attunement: Amphibious 0/1]

The most iconic facet of an Aberration is their ability to adapt to any situation. While you utilize this Attunement you are able to breathe water as easily as air.

[Aberration Attunement: Blades of Bone 0/1]

Requirement: Sturdy Hide

Aberrations are known for their frightening visage, and part of that terror-inducing façade is their ability to make weapons out of organic matter. With Blades of Bone, you too can create weapons made of bone sharpened to a razor's edge. Serrated blades, brutal axes, and spears of bone are yours to command at will.

MP cost is dependent on the complexity and strength of the weapon. Strength, durability, and overall capacity to create an osseous weapon are dependent upon INT, CHR, aberration attunement, and the Skill Level of the type of weapon you wish to create.

At any time while wielding an ossified weapon you may sacrifice MP or HP to restore its durability.

[Aberration Attunement: Bone Armor 0/1]

Requirement: Sturdy Hide

An Aberration is a walking armory, capable of supplying itself with both shield and sword at a moment's notice. With Bone Armor, you can adapt the defensive prowess of an Aberration to your own ends. You can choose to sacrifice HP, MP, or SP to create bones that erupt from your body and provide additional protection.

Bone Armor's cost is dependent upon the complexity and time taken to create the armor. Its defensive parameters are based on your INT, CHR, and aberration attunement. Only one piece of equipment can be made at once. Temporary Bone Armor can be conjured at a steeper cost with less complexity.

At any time while wearing an ossified piece of armor you may sacrifice MP or HP to restore its durability.

He tried not to be impressed. But he was.

While aberration was a powerful essence on its own, the two new monster attunements, Blades of Bone and Bone Armor were even better than he could have hoped for.

Hal thoroughly appreciated his shadow essence but he also recognized that it wasn’t likely he’d find more shadow property monsters roaming about in the open.

He thought he’d find more plantoid types, being that they were outside in the wilds. If he hadn’t been attacked by towering brutish treants and other plant-based creatures - under Murkmire’s mountain, in a private nature reserve of all places - he wouldn’t have known they even existed.

The goal was to increase his treant attunement, boosting Barkskin’s temporary HP effect to its max. While technically aberration’s Sturdy Hide gave him similar survivability in the form of a 15% increase to his Max HP.

With Barkskin’s current 5% tHP boost, it was dwarfed by aberration’s Sturdy Hide. But unlike Barkskin, which could be enhanced 5 full Levels, Sturdy Hide was not upgradeable.

It also lacked the regenerative properties of Barkskin, which was what Hal most prized. Having higher HP just meant he would need to use Assimilation more now that Ashera could no longer heal.

Nothing seemed to be working out quite as well as he assumed, however, because despite fighting dozens of creatures in the weeks since leaving Murkmire, none of them were Treants.

But aberration types? They seemed disturbingly more common than they had any right to be. And with his superior aberration attunement now sitting at 425%, he was already part of the way to yet another attunement point.

Unlike the other types, aberration seemed to favor powerful single-level alterations. Perhaps that was just the theme of aberration. After all, each attunement altered his body in some way.

In a way, Hal was just glad he didn’t feel compelled to take Amorphous Skin. The imagery alone made his skin crawl. He imagined a constant gelatinous skin that oozed and sloughed off.

He didn’t want to imagine what his face would look like.

Would he look like Clayface from the Batman comics of his youth? A shiver coursed down his spine at the thought.

Maybe it wouldn’t alter his physical appearance, but since he had yet to find a way to toggle monster attunements, he wasn’t about to risk it. That would make it all but impossible to go into any town. Or ever get laid.

Every time he used Splice to tap his aberration essence he would have to use Shifting Mask to change his appearance to something less grotesque. Maybe one day, he thought to himself.

An effective 25% reduction in physical damage was hard to pass up. Perhaps that was why the imagery was so disgusting, to serve as a means of balance to such a powerful ability.

Whether it was true or not, Hal wasn’t about to pick it. Not with Bone Armor and Blades of Bone sitting there, begging to be used.

He had seen firsthand how devastatingly effective using aberration essence to create ridged bone weapons was. If he could replicate and refine that process, he was not about to pass that up.

Without further debate, Hal selected both Bone Armor and Blades of Bone.

Like the times before when he gained a new skill, spell, or ability, there was a rush of knowledge that filled him with a euphoric high.

I’m so glad I don’t get withdrawals from that.

Once the feeling faded to a distant memory, Hal could feel the knowledge sitting there in his mind as if it had always been there. That was the strangest thing about these systems. They altered memories and your own awareness.

While he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he didn’t always know how to grow osseous plates or fashion bone into a falchion with a razor’s edge, he couldn’t precisely remember at what point he gained that knowledge.

It felt as if he always knew how to do it.

Hal was about to test out his newfound ability, eager to see how it worked, when he noticed something else. Something he should have noticed a while ago but was too busy sorting through his Inventory and later, through his monster attunements.

Possessing a high aberration attunement did more than grant him powerful traits and skills related to that monster type. It also vastly increased his chances to learn Beast Magic from creatures that were defeated.

Hal’s high aberration attunement, coupled with the sheer volume of Corvids that were killed made it incredibly likely he would gain new spells.

A fact he entirely forgot about if not for the way he had set up his prompts to alert him to important and valuable information. It just so happened that learning new spells put it in the same priority right behind gaining new monster attunements.

It wasn’t until he finished selecting his new attunements that he saw the notification.

You learn Divebomb.

Summon a phantom of a diving bird of prey to fall upon your enemies and gore them with a devastating attack.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Physical (Piercing).

Family: Aberration (Undead/Bird).

MP: 75

BP: 3

Strain: 5

Damage: 18

Attributes: Physical (Piercing).

You learn Feather Barrier.

Grant yourself a portion of the wind that lifts a bird into the sky and away from the dangers around them. When using Feather Barrier, any uses of Divebomb will be empowered. Increases Evasion.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Magical (Wind).

Family: Aberration (Undead/Bird).

MP: 65

BP: 2

Strain: 3

Duration: 10 minutes

Synergy: Divebomb: -33% MP | +2 Damage.

You have discovered your first Synergy.

Synergies

When using certain Beast Magic spells together, an effect known as Synergy can sometimes occur. Each effect is unique to its specific grouping. Synergies increase the efficacy of their specific spells beyond their normal parameters. Synergies are typical among spells originating from the same monster families.

While some Synergies only require the given spells to be currently set, others require one or more spells to be active to receive the bonus. In the case of your first Synergy, the buff Feather Barrier must be active in order to strengthen Divebomb.

Unfortunately, with the spells he already set for the day, he couldn’t test Feather Barrier or Divebomb until tomorrow. He pulled up his current spells to see what he could replace.

[Spells]

Blinding Spit

Eject a gob of chemically unstable ooze that explodes into a blinding flash upon impact.

Additional Effects: Blind, Enmity Up

School: Beast Magic

Type: Magical (Dark)

Family: Aberration (Undead)

MP: 50

BP: 2

Strain: 2

Damage: 8

Bomb Toss II

Throw a goblin-bomb at the enemy dealing Area of Effect (AOE) fire damage.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Magical (Fire)

Family: Goblin (Beastmen)

MP: 40

BP: 2

Strain: 1

Damage: 16 (AOE)

Drill Branch

Summon spiraling branches to pierce through the toughest hide and gore your opponents. By continuing to channel mana into the spell, you can continue the spell indefinitely. Partially ignores DEF.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Physical (Piercing)

Family: Treant (Plantoid)

MP: 35

BP: 3

Strain: 2

Damage: 10

Goblin Rush II

Lunge forward, launching a frantic series of critical attacks.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Physical (Slashing)

Family: Goblin (Beastmen)

MP: 35

BP: 3

Strain: 2

Damage: 30

Soul Drain

By touching an opponent, you are capable of draining their resources and stats. The more types you drain the less potent the spell becomes and there is a higher chance for resists. Drained stats and resources are removed from the afflicted and temporarily added to you.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Magical (Dark)

Family: Eldritch (Soul of Shae’kathoth)

MP: 120

BP: 5

Strain: 7

Duration: 1 hour.

With what he currently had set he was at 15 out of 15 BP. If he took out Blinding Spit that would drop him down to 12 BP. He needed 5 BP free to set both Divebomb and Feather Barrier. Considering their synergy, he definitely wanted to do that.

Which meant he needed 2 more BP freed up. He still needed to test out Soul Drain and his two goblin spells - while fairly niche - were still useful.

Certainly more useful than Drill Branch. Yes, that’s what he’d do. Drill Branch and Blinding Spit would be swapped out for Divebomb and Feather Barrier.

The grin that began to spread on Hal’s face was stolen by the column of light that fell upon the small half-sunken island at the lake’s center.

11

Each step of Elora’s was met with a slick marble block that rose from the water’s dark depths to greet her next stride. After a few tentative steps, and a glance back at Ashera, she gained confidence and picked up her pace. She made the small partially submerged island soon after.

The place must have possessed some ancient significance. Weather-worn friezes, sculpted columns, and statues with smoothed features dotted the island along with crumbling walls and empty archways.

Never letting her guard down, Elora nocked an arrow to her bow and tested the pull to make sure she was ready for a fight. The Quest had been strangely vague about why she should come here. But she had never known a Quest to lead her astray before and so she followed it.

Even with what happened to Ashera, she felt confident that she made the right decision to come out here. Ashera had knowingly broken faith with her Covenant. She would have suffered the effects sooner or later regardless of where she was.

In fact, Elora was glad Ashera came with them. If not for Hal’s timely intervention, she doubted her childhood friend would still be with them. Losing a Class was a small price to pay for one’s life.

All Ashera’s talk about staying behind would need to be addressed later. She could be remarkably stubborn when she wanted to and the best way to deal with it was to let her think she got her way.

Any opposition would only make her dig in her heels even harder. Elora could make Ashera see reason, she was sure of it. But that would have to wait until they went back to the caravan.

Until then Ashera would be expecting somebody to object. So Elora would smile and nod, let the tall lamora think she got her way until they returned to the safety of the caravan.

A day, maybe two, and she’d show Ashera the error of her thinking. As if any of them would object to her coming with them even if she couldn’t heal. Elora kicked a broken chunk of stone in frustration. It skipped off a wall with such force that the stone broke apart into powder.

The nerve of Ashera! As if the only reason they tolerated her presence was because of her ability to heal.

Elora turned into an empty archway, breathing deep to calm herself but just as she took her first breath it got stuck in her throat.

This must have been a great temple once because several of the walls sported broken stained glass window panes and tall fluted columns. At the center of this open-air room was an altar. Upon which a tiny, utterly adorable creature sat making small pathetic whimpering noises.

All about the altar were black shadowy creatures with stretched and tortured faces. They reached toward the small brown creature, and every time it wailed a heart-wrenching cry.

Elora felt her heart break at the depth of fear in that single note. At the same time, a bright flash of light pushed the creatures back. They staggered backward on twisted legs before resuming their march toward the small brown-furred creature on the altar.

Quest Updated: Master the Wilds.

You’ve found the source of the disturbance. A creature of rare purity stands before you, assaulted by twisted unnatural creations. Put down the foul beasts and restore balance to this temple.

Objectives:

- Locate the source of the disturbance.

- Defeat the unnatural beasts.

Rewards:

- Ranger Evolution
- Komachi
- 5,000 Experience Points

Elora didn’t need the prompting of her Quest to take aim and let fly an arrow right into the back of one of those strange creatures. It occurred to her that in the month since she met Hal, she had seen more disturbing abominations than ever before in her twenty-plus years of life.

She prided herself as being a woman that didn’t draw unnecessary conclusions but it was hard not to see some kind of connection.

None of that stayed her hand though as she fired again. A second arrow leaped into the air right behind the first before it ever reached its mark. The two struck the rear of one of those twisted creatures at almost the same time.

You use Double Shot.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.30] takes 235 points of damage.

The force of the impact knocked one of the Corrupted Spirits into the fellow beside it. Both went sprawling to the moss-covered stonework with a screeching cry of rage.

Three more Corrupted Spirits turned to regard this new threat. They sent oblong darts of darkness toward her. No novice to battle, Elora was already moving before her shots ever hit their mark.

The black darts of darkness impacted on the stone behind her, crumbling a column and half-collapsing a stone wall from the impact.

Elora hopped up on a pile of stone rubble, using it as a launching point before it had time to shift and crumble beneath her footing. Up she went, looping her bow over her shoulder to free her hands as she collided bodily with one of the remaining free-standing walls.

Pulling herself up and onto the narrow ledge above, Elora unslung her bow and gathered her mana into the next three arrows she drew from her quiver at once.

Each of the steel-tipped arrows glowed an ominous deep blue. This was one ability that Elora hardly needed to aim for. She gave a cursory look to make sure she wouldn’t hit the creature on the altar and let fly at the cluster of twisted creatures.

The arrows spiraled around each other, their heavy concentration of mana causing them to create turbulent swirls through the air in a deep azure glow as they streaked toward their targets.

Recently acquired, Empowered Scatter Shot gave her Scatter Shot a significant power boost. Released from the worry of her close-range allies taking damage from her attack, she was free to use it to her heart’s content despite the heavy MP cost.

One after the other, the arrows collided with the cluster of twisted creatures. Each let off a dull thumping explosion that grew exponentially and when one explosion touched another, it created a third explosion. Each burst of mana created a wave of azure light that burned and buffeted any nearby creatures.

The chain of explosions rippled through the five creatures, obliterating the two who were directly hit first and blasting the remaining three to the corners of the room. There they remained, dazed and confused.

You use Empowered Scatter Shot.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.32] takes 285 points of damage.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.31] takes 302 points of damage.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.30] takes 340 points of damage.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.30] takes 336 points of damage.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.32] takes 287 points of damage.

You defeat the [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.30].

You gain 750 Experience Points.

You defeat the [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.30].

You gain 750 Experience Points.

At 150 MP per use, Empowered Scatter Shot was a potent ability. But one she could only use three times with her current MP.

Drawing another arrow from her quiver, Elora picked her way carefully to the now cleared altar and approached the small creature. Up close she could see it was a small otter. The terrified thing looked up at her with fear that slowly melted into hope.

It chirped at her like a bird and squeaked like a child’s toy in exuberant happiness. Elora clambered up onto the altar, straddling the otter and taking aim at the creatures that were now regarding her with renewed hatred.

The otter gripped Elora’s calf and shimmied up her leg with surprising alacrity. As the creatures began their charge, Elora put an arrow square into the leading creature’s leg. It staggered and tumbled to the stone floor.

Your ranged attack hits the [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.32] squarely for 198 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Stagger

Elora reached for another arrow but found one already offered to her, held up by a tiny, surprisingly dexterous otter paw. Trying not to question her good fortune, Elora nocked the arrow and let fly.

It wasn’t until she saw the arrow jump into the air in front of her that she realized something was off about this one. It was wreathed in gleaming golden light. The otter, now clinging tenaciously to her hip, squeaked and chirruped excitedly.

As the arrow struck its mark, Elora’s vision was washed out in a column of all-consuming light that seared her eyes. The creatures trapped within the wide pillar of light were vaporized on contact. They remained only as shadows within the light like a mirage.

You use Komachi’s Super Special Ultra Attack Bad Guy Seeker Arrow.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.32] is destroyed.

You gain 800 Experience Points.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.31] is destroyed.

You gain 775 Experience Points.

The [Corrupted Spirit | Lv.32] is destroyed.

You gain 800 Experience Points.

Quest Completed: Master the Wilds.

You’ve found the source of the disturbance. A creature of rare purity stands before you, assaulted by twisted unnatural creations. You put down the foul beasts, restored balance, and saved Komachi. Speak to the pobul to receive your reward.

Objectives:

- Locate the source of the disturbance.

- Defeat the unnatural beasts.

Rewards:

- Ranger Evolution
- Komachi
- 5,000 Experience Points

Elora blinked hard to clear her eyes of the bright afterimages. She could hardly believe what she saw. While she was more than capable of taking on the Corrupted Spirits, that single enchanted arrow practically trivialized her very presence.

No stranger to magical artifacts, Elora looked down at the sweet wide-eyed and adoring gaze of the otter. “Who are you?” she asked her, not expecting an answer and wondering what a pobul was.

“Komachi!” squeaked the excitable little otter.

Scanning her surroundings for any further threats, Elora was thoroughly caught off-guard when the little otter spoke. She started, staring down at her with sheer amazement.

“You… are Komachi?” she asked, keeping her blue-gray eyes intent on the otter in case she had somehow misheard.

The otter looked up with too-intelligent dark eyes and just as Elora was sure she was hearing things, the little otter nodded while making a non-committal sound in the back of her throat.

Then the otter scrambled, far faster than it should have been able to, up Elora’s hip and onto her shoulder. The otter butted her furry head into her cheek and cried out, “Pet me!”

12

With one last look around to make sure they were safe, Elora slung her bow over her free shoulder and cradled the otter in her arms. Immediately the furry, loaf-shaped creature rolled onto her back and wiggled in her grasp.

“Pet me!” she cried again, almost indignantly.

“You can speak,” Elora stated plainly while she shifted the otter to the crook of her arm and began to pet her belly. “Are you the ‘pobul’ I’m supposed to speak to?”

She doubted it. Not that Elora knew what a pobul was. It wasn’t a word she was familiar with.

The fact that an otter – or any animal for that matter – could speak was unheard of.

Even in a world full of magic, that just didn’t happen. Sure, there were spells of illusion and enchantment that could make it seem like an animal was capable of talking but they were just that. Illusions.

The otter nodded. “Of course I am! You see another pobul around?”

“I don’t know what a pobul is,” Elora admitted, hopping down from the altar.

“I’m a pobul,” the otter explained. She waved a paw at Elora and her Quest prompt reappeared.

Quest Completed: Master the Wilds.

You’ve found the source of the disturbance. A creature of rare purity stands before you, assaulted by twisted unnatural creations. You put down the foul beasts and restored balance and saved Komachi. You have spoken with Komachi and are now blessed by her presence. This pleases you.

Completed Objectives:

- Locate the source of the disturbance.

- Defeat the unnatural beasts.

Rewards:

- Ranger Evolution
- Komachi
- 5,000 Experience Points

Elora stared at the prompt. ‘This pleases you.’? I don’t think I’ve ever had a prompt tell me how I feel.

The otter, which was apparently a pobul – whatever that was – and went by the name Komachi looked suspicious. She cast her sweet and adoring gaze anywhere but at Elora, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She was about to press the issue when another prompt flashed across her vision.

Fabled Class Evolution: Wildsmaster

Masters of all things natural, Wildsmasters make it their mission to restore the world to its proper order. They abhor the unnatural and twisted corrupted abominations that plague the land and are capable of designating specific entities as targets for eradication.

Wildsmasters employ Familiars, magical pacts with animals that further increase their power by providing unique strengths and buffs. A Wildsmaster’s Familiar cannot die and is capable of mental communication over a distance of three hundred feet.

If you accept this Evolution all of your previous Skills, Spells, Traits, and Abilities will be preserved but your Ranger Class path will forever change to that of a Wildsmaster.

Do you accept?

Elora studied the description for a good long while. Long enough that it seemed Komachi was getting impatient with her. The little pobul nibbled and chewed playfully on her leather armor, doing no real damage despite her increasing ferocity.

While she loved Ranger, it did always feel a little… off. But with two other Classes already taken, she couldn’t afford to take a fourth Class.

Novice, of course, didn’t count as a Class thankfully. If it did, a lot more people would be screwed. And Elora would likely find herself in the unenviable position of having two diametrically opposed Classes: Thief and Paladin.

Something about Wildsmaster just felt right to her. Particularly its use of Familiars. An animal-lover at heart, Elora always wanted a pet but could never convince her “allergic” mother to let her have one.

It was one of the things – the others being the love of nature and her skill with a bow – that made her feel closer to her father. He had plenty of woodland “friends” as he called them. Never “pets.”

Animals would come to him with a little trilling whistle or a snap of his fingers as if they were waiting around just for that signal to be able to be close to him again.

Elora understood that.

Her father had a way about him that was comforting and soothing. She wished he was still around. How she missed him.

Focusing, Elora tamped down on her emotions and reread the prompt once more. Class Evolutions were rare and becoming a Fabled Class was even rarer.

As she mulled over her decision, a permanent one that would forever change the future of her Class, she noticed that Komachi had stopped gnawing on her armor. Instead, as if she could sense the tumult of her emotions, the pobul was hugging her forearm with all four paws and chirping quietly.

Elora’s heart nearly burst in her breast. She reached a free hand over to her and pet her head, scratching at her softy, downy fur affectionately and drawing more adoring chirps and squeaks from Komachi.

She had no idea if Komachi was just some sort of Questgiver and would disappear after she accepted the rewards – something she most definitely did not want – but the small interactions with the pobul made the decision for her.

In so short a time, Elora became completely enamored with the small otter-like creature. From her adorable black nose to her creamy white belly and the way the fur on her face split between warm cocoa brown on top to cream halfway down.

As she made her decision the prompt once more flashed in front of her.

Fabled Class Evolution: Wildsmaster

You gain 5,000 Experience Points.

You gain a Familiar Pact: Komachi.

Familiar Pacts

As you Level Up along the Wildsmaster path you will gain access to Familiar Pacts. These magical pacts allow you to tie your lifeforce with another creature, elevating it to something beyond any mortal animal. Creatures that were previously unable to understand thought and emotion will be able to speak and converse with you both mentally and otherwise. Each creature gains a Feyworld, a private pocket dimension that they may retreat to at their leisure.

Each Familiar is bound to their Feyworld and to you, their Wildsmaster. Magics that banish extraplanar beings will dispel any summoned Familiars, sending them back to their tiny pockets of paradise. If a Familiar is reduced to 0 HP, they will return to their Feyworld to recover and can only be called forth once more when they are fully healed.

Familiars come with their own magic, powers, and attributes. There are four currently known types of Familiars: Offense, Defense, Support, and Utility.

Offense Familiars specialize in dealing as much damage as possible with little regard to their own safety. They see their role as being your sword. And they take to the role with an almost religious fervor.

Defense Familiars are the opposite, they prioritize the safety and defense of yourself and any targets you designate them to defend. Their attack power is weak but their ability to keep others from harm is second to none. They act as a veritable wall from which any Wildsmaster can rain down havoc upon their enemies with impunity.

Support Familiars provide unique battle-oriented buffs for the Wildsmaster and their party. While physically frail and not inclined to fight, they more than make up for it by bolstering the fighting potential of those around them.

Utility Familiars are the rarest breed of all. Capable of empowering both in and out of combat, they augment a host of properties that no other Familiar can. They can impart buffs such as Treasure Finder, Sparkboost, Experience Bonus, and many more, making them arguably one of the most sought-after Familiars. While not typically useful in battle, their unique utility buffs and augments make them invaluable for Crafting, Gathering, and recovery out of battle.

Elora looked down at Komachi. A small swirling mark appeared on the pobul’s belly, it glowed with a golden-edged purple light. The mark, and Komachi, seemed to be waiting for her to touch it as a means of accepting the pact.

Komachi was uncharacteristically quiet. As Elora dragged out her decision, the little pobul began to dig around in her nose with her paw. As she picked her nose with her tiny dexterous pads, Elora made her decision.

She reached her hand down to the mark and focused on it. Becoming a Wildsmaster imparted the knowledge she needed to enact the Familiar Pact. In an instant Komachi vanished into a swirl of purple and gold smoke, seeming to collapse in on herself for the briefest of moments.

Elora could feel Komachi in the back of her mind, like she was just out of view scampering about and playing to her little heart’s content. With a thought, Elora called to her and her arms grew heavy as another plume of gold-and-purple smoke erupted in them, depositing Komachi into her arms.

“Komachi!” squealed the pobul with unrestrained glee.

“Aren’t you precious,” Elora began but then noticed that Komachi was trying to sneakily – and quite unsuccessfully – wipe a booger from her paw onto Elora’s jacket.

When she noticed she was caught, Komachi flung her paw wide and the tiny glob flung off into the distance as she flopped to face away from Elora and pretend like nothing happened.

“Komachi find treasure!” she cried out and squirmed free from Elora’s arms.

The pobul leaped easily and landed lightly on all four paws. She put her muzzle to the moss-covered floor and began to sniff intently as she scampered away from Elora.

Komachi uses Treasure Sniff.

Treasure discovery rate up.

Komachi has discovered Treasure.

Elora followed behind her as Komachi wormed her way through small openings that the Wildsmaster couldn’t hope to follow. She had to continually remind herself that Komachi was practically indestructible. If something harmed her – which she would of course hunt to the ends of the world and utterly destroy – it wouldn’t actually kill her.

Komachi was in less danger than Elora was.

13

“Komachi?” Elora called at the water’s edge.

She lost sight of her less than two seconds ago. The wily little pobul had slipped her with disturbing ease. She’d need to put a bell on her or something. Of course, that was completely unnecessary.

Aside from the fact that she felt sure Komachi would absolutely hate the thing, as her Familiar, Elora had a keen sense of where Komachi was at all times. She could sense her somewhere under the cold dark waters of the lake even though she couldn’t see her.

It was a strange juxtaposition.

Just as Elora was getting worried something might have happened to her Familiar, she felt Komachi’s elation through their bond.

Shortly after, the pobul began moving closer to shore. Soon enough Elora could make out the blurry dark shape of Komachi struggling with a chest at least ten times her size and many orders of magnitude heavier than her.

Covered in lake weeds and silt, the heavily tarnished chest was large enough that Elora could have laid down inside it comfortably. Its intricate carvings and lack of any clear lock made it clear to the experienced Wildsmaster that her meager Thief skill wasn’t going to get the chest open.

And judging by the sturdy look of it, main force wasn’t going to be an option either.

Komachi fussed with the lid, rolling back a cunning contraption that hid the locking mechanism behind a coat of arms in the shape of a serpent coiled around a sword.

The heraldry was familiar to her, though she couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.

Elora had a breadth of experience adventuring beside the Rangers. Usually only in small stints and never as long as her exodus from Fallwreath with Hal, but not once had she ever come across an honest-to-goodness treasure chest.

Komachi squeaked and made a sound that Elora could only describe as a squonk, a sound that was part squeak, part snort, and all frustration. Elora stooped down and plucked the drenched Komachi off the ground and placed her onto the perch of her shoulder.

The pobul settled into a comfortable scarf-like position, draped across the back of her neck, and resting her head on Elora’s right shoulder as she intently watched Elora study the chest.

She tried to lift it but even with her 24 STR, she couldn’t do more than lift one side at a time a couple of inches off the ground. And it was far too big to put into her Inventory.

Just as she was trying to figure out how Komachi managed to dredge it up from the bottom of the lake, the pobul waved a paw at the chest and performed a series of sing-song chirps.

It sounded delightfully like birdsong.

The chest was wreathed in a purple-gold light and when Elora went to lift it again, she found it was as light as a feather.

Komachi casts Bamboozle: Weight.

The [Ornate Treasure Coffer] is affected by Weightlessness.

Elora gave Komachi a look, but the little pobul would not meet her gaze. It was almost as if she were somehow embarrassed by her abilities.

“Komachi, are you a Utility Familiar?” she asked, all but sure of the answer.

Komachi covered her eyes with her tiny paws and nodded. Elora gave her a loving pat with one hand.

The prompt had not lied, the chest was practically as light as one of Ashera’s pancakes. If not for its gargantuan size, she could have carried it one-handed.

How ridiculous she looked lugging the coffer across the magical path that led her back to the opposite shore of the lake.

Each of her friends – and they were all her friends, she realized with a sense of pride and warmth in her chest – were standing and waiting for her. Mira’s violet gaze was wide and shocked when she saw Komachi.

She quickly turned that surprised look to Elora, her mouth hanging open in silent astoundment.

It took Elora a moment to realize that they had likely seen the same light that blinded her. If it attracted their attention all the way out here, the column of light must have been larger than she thought.

She looked at Komachi, who was looking everywhere at once with great interest. The pobul’s gaze fell most often on Ashera, not that Elora could blame her.

She found herself in the same position often.

Clearing her throat, Elora said, “I suppose you’ve already been made aware that my Quest was completed?”

Each of them nodded in turn.

It would have been one of the strangest things about the Quest, that is until she met Komachi and saw the bizarre things she could do. Each of her friends had received a Quest that instructed them to help Elora complete her own Quest.

While she wasn’t an expert on Quests yet, that didn’t strike her as normal.

Not that it mattered in the end. Neither of them could cross the lake without swimming and it was cold enough to make that a dangerous prospect. In the end, Elora had gone on alone to finish her Quest.

But she never would have gotten through the fights leading to the lake without her friends at her side. None of them, perhaps, would have gotten to the lake without Hal’s impressive display of destruction against the Corvids.

Never thought I’d see the day when I was indebted to Hal for his combat prowess, she thought to herself ruefully.

Though she had to admit that he had grown a lot in a short period of time. Still the weakest of the group, he was possessed of powers that dwarfed anything in any of their arsenals.

None of them could have felled so many of the Corvids at once.

In fact, she mused, adding an addendum to her previous thought, I never imagined I would be on the beneficial end of a Founder’s magic. As grateful as she was for Hal’s intervention, she couldn’t help but feel a little repulsed.

The ability to control another thing was terrifying. If Rinbast had that same power… she suppressed a shudder. That was not a road she wanted to go down. Bad enough that Hal could do it and with all the world of good intentions at his back. If a monster like Rinbast could do it?

She shook her head to clear the thoughts. “Well, we have a lot to talk about on the way back, then.” Elora lifted the chest higher, though she hardly needed to. The thing was massive and easily visible held out in front as it was. “And Komachi found this. I couldn’t figure out how to open it but I assume one of Durvin’s clan would be able to pick it, if not bust it wide open.”

“Who is Komachi?” Hal asked.

Komachi snorted and grumbled. Elora jerked her head toward the pobul on her shoulder. “This is Komachi, she’s a pobul and my Familiar.”

Hearing Elora call Komachi her Familiar made the slightly grumpy pobul raise her head up high and puff out her chest proudly. “Komachi!” she squealed happily.

“That’s my girl,” Elora said proudly. She nudged the huge coffer toward the group. “Lead on then, I’d like to get back to the caravan before it gets dark and get on the move just in case any other creatures are lurking in these woods.”

“Or something from the watery grave your little friend pulled that from comes looking for their lost treasure,” Angram quipped. With a chuckle, the Ranger turned about and led the way back into the woods.

As keen a mind as any she had ever met, Elora had full confidence that Angram could guide them along their exact path back to the caravan with his eyes closed.

Hal studied Komachi suspiciously as if he recognized her but couldn’t place from where.

The pobul squinted at him. “Midarian sends his regards,” she said in the direst tone possible. But with her adorably small body, she just sounded silly trying to be so serious.

“Who?” Hal asked, furrowing his brow.

“You know.” And that was all Komachi would say on the subject.

If there were any monsters lurking in the boughs high above or the brush to the sides of the group, they didn’t dare show their face. Hopping over familiar downed trees and bridges of rotting logs across small gullies, Elora told them about the fight with the Corrupted Spirits and how she saved Komachi.

She explained all about the new perks of her Fabled Class, making it quite clear that she was among the likes of Mira, Hal, and Ashera now.

“Was,” Ashera corrected her, weaving around a particularly thick oak tree.

There was nothing wrong with what she said. Ashera was neither bitter nor angry about it. The slip was unintentional but it was the way Ashera said it. She was so… resigned.

It cast a pall over the group, and they walked in silence the rest of the way back to the caravan.

Still, Elora couldn’t help but think back to that pillar of light. Never before had she seen something so devastating. Everything took damage. As far as she understood the System, nothing was simply “destroyed” as the prompt stated. It should have taken damage and then been defeated. Not destroyed.

Every so often Elora glanced at Komachi, wondering.

She knew nothing about Familiars, Utility or otherwise. But it didn’t seem normal for such a small and adorable little aquatic mammal to be able to wave a paw and make a coffer weigh next to nothing.

The two times she witnessed Komachi’s prowess in action were both fairly implausible, if not outrightly impossible. By her best estimation, the coffer weighed at least half a ton.

A few advanced spells she knew of by reputation could halve the weight of an object but nothing short of uniquely (and heavily enchanted) Inventory items could completely negate an item’s weight.

Rather than be concerned, Elora felt a sense of optimism and hope. If Komachi could do all this on their very first day, what could she be capable of given time and experience?

What might all their coming adventures do for the little pobul?

The unseen sentries let out a series of birdcalls, which Komachi immediately began to chirp back to as if they were talking to her. Elora leaned her head closer to Komachi and gave her a smooch.

Komachi’s rounded ears wiggled happily and she let out a joyous chirp. Thankfully, nobody had seen that egregiously outward sign of affection. As they neared the first wagon, Durvin’s own, Komachi began to wiggle and sniff the heavily scented air. It seemed the caravan was in the middle of cooking an early supper.

“What’s the matter, Komachi?” Elora asked.

Chirping and making a series of noises that were somewhere between a grumble and a squeak, Komachi looked at Elora and announced, “Komachi hungies.”

And with that, she leaped off Elora’s shoulder and bolted through the tall grassy field like a cannonball. Elora, who had seen many strange and horrifying things in her life, had never seen anything so small move so fast.

14

Life with Hal was easy. Ever since Vorax met the monster-man, he had known more safety and gained more strength than the not-so-little mimic had ever known.

He even was reunited with Quibbles, his pet slime who was tucked away somewhere between his fourth and fifth extra-planar stomach. A room of sorts he made specifically for his little pink friend.

Once they left that city of people with the canny small sturdy people known as “dwarves,” things got even better. Hal routinely gave Vorax prized loot to “hold onto.”

Naturally, Vorax ate each valuable piece. What safer place than in the mimic’s extra-dimensional belly? Besides, a stronger Vorax could better protect Hal’s items. Not only that, but as he grew in strength he could repay Hal’s protection with his own in kind.

The increasingly reckless man was going to get himself killed one of these days if Vorax wasn’t there to save him.

Yes, indeed, the days alongside Hal and his moving caravan of goodies were everything the mimic could have hoped for and more. It knew peace and happiness unlike anything it ever had before.

That was, until the blonde one got one of those Quest things that people were always so intrigued by. The perceptive mimic noted a keen shift on the winds of fate.

Something was coming.

Not that Vorax knew what. He wasn’t that strong yet and his experience with life was minimal. But he could not ignore the feelings of concern and unease that rippled through his boxy frame.

He kept his feelings from Hal, though the human was growing more perceptive by the day. Already he had discovered how to communicate with Vorax like a young monsterling might and not a baby. His impartations were complex and better executed.

By showing Vorax that he understood higher concepts, the mimic responded in kind. Hal thought Vorax was growing and becoming more human and understanding. The mimic allowed Hal his misconception, he was still learning after all and it would not do to discourage him.

Besides, what would be the point in correcting him? Vorax was not overly prideful. What did it matter if Hal thought it was Vorax that was improving instead of himself?

In either case, their conversations were fuller and richer than they ever were before. How they came to that point hardly mattered in light of their greater ease in communication.

Everything was going quite well, until they left on one of their Quests. Hal mistook Vorax’s anxiety for worry over his safety. As kind as it was of Hal to try and reassure the mimic that he would be just fine, Vorax was not worried about Hal.

He was worried about something else that he could not pinpoint.

When they came back to the temporary camp the wagons set up, Vorax knew dread. It came in the form of a tiny, loaf-shaped furry creature that ran so fast it was a blur.

And it came straight for Vorax, screaming that dreadful war cry, “Komachiiii!”

Try as he might, Vorax couldn’t hide from that overwhelming monstrosity. Did they know the destruction they brought back with them? Vorax could sense Hal out there and he seemed fine, but why did he allow this devil to roam freely among his people?

As much as Vorax wanted to lash out and attack this thing that was scrambling up into the back of the wagon, its two-tone face one of the last things the mimic would ever see, the mimic knew he was not strong enough.

Nobody was.

What magic was about this hellish creature gamboling toward him?

Despite the futility of it, Vorax unleashed his pseudopods and tendrils in all their spiked glory. He hissed, rearing open his lid and baring row upon row of sharp dagger-long fangs.

Maybe the creature wasn’t smart. If he could scare it away, Hal would be safe. The caravan would be safe, something Vorax knew to be very important to Hal. Though he could hardly fathom why.

This little furry creature with the too-intelligent black eyes was strong. Perhaps the strongest thing Vorax had ever seen. And Vorax had once glimpsed a mighty red dragon through a broken scrying mirror.

“Komachi?” the thing asked in a high-pitched, almost adorable voice.

Clearly, this deity condensed into a small loaf-shaped furry form was truly powerful. Its beguiling nature evident in the way its spellbinding foreign word ensnared all 7 of Vorax’s hearts and made the mimic feel kinship with this creature.

“…Komachi!” The furry creature, heedless of Vorax’s many deadly appendages stalked closer, hunching its back and sniffing the air intently.

Terrified, Vorax found himself unable to attack. Unable to defend his own life. So powerful and overwhelming was this little creature’s aura of strength.

Studying Vorax with too-intelligent black eyes, the little creature sat back on her butt and looked at Vorax squarely. It felt like this thing was staring into the depths of his monstrous soul.

Every moment of Vorax’s past was stripped away, divided, and placed on scales of some cosmic justice. What gives you the right? Vorax imparted to the creature, clearly incensed.

He only did what was necessary to survive in a brutal cavernous home that was more often than not plagued by vicious aberrations, the most hated enemies of arcana such as Vorax.

Just checkin’, came the mental reply. Before the spell could wear off and Vorax could move once more the creature, a pobul as he came to understand, placed a webbed paw on his box and Vorax calmed immediately.

It wasn’t a spell or compulsion –though she could have destroyed him with one easily enough – it was a touch of offered friendship and forgiveness for some of the darker things the mimic had to do to survive.

The entire exchange lasted barely more than ninety seconds. From when Vorax first sensed the colossal power that was Komachi to the formation of peace between them.

“Komachi forgot to turn her power level down,” the pobul muttered to Vorax, patting his lid affectionately.

She focused a moment and just like that, she was barely distinguishable from any other creature. Komachi went from dwarfing his own respectable Level 34, to somewhere in the low single-digits. The aura of absolute power was gone, but if Vorax really focused he could sense it peeking out from her.

Any other creature, even perceptive dragons were unlikely to notice the truth until it was too late.

Why? That simple question was filled with imparted context that Komachi instantly understood. Vorax wanted to know why she was here, why was she bonded to the blonde one, why she was hiding her power, and many more questions besides.

Komachi got lost, now on adventure!

It was clear from her tone that there would be no forthcoming answers.

“Komachi?” Elora called and the pobul perked up immediately. She began chirping in a sing-song fashion and gamboled over to the open rear door of the wagon. “There you are, why’d you run off?”

“Komachi made a friend,” she said proudly and scrambled up into Elora’s arms.

The blonde one looked at Vorax, all his appendages neatly tucked away. He had quickly resumed his normal treasure chest façade. One purple tendril – no teeth or spikes – slithered out and waved shyly at Elora.

“Oh. Hi, Vorax,” Elora said, tucking Komachi into the crook of one arm while she waved back. She couldn’t understand Vorax at any level beyond the most basic signage but she was pleasant enough with the mimic.

“What’s going on?” Hal asked, poking his head into the wagon.

For a moment, Vorax was about to warn Hal of Komachi but thought better of it. The pobul was guilty of nothing but having a ridiculous amount of power.

More importantly, she had shared her heart with Vorax and the mimic could see no darkness in her. She was incandescently pure and sweet. No, he would not warn Hal but he could keep a few eyes on the pobul just to be sure.

At the very least, Komachi would be a welcome friend. One he could converse with at length in the monster way of empathetic communication.

Elora hefted Komachi who warbled sweetly and chewed on her paw. “Komachi was making friends with Vorax,” she replied, heading to her bunk and setting Komachi on the pull-down cot.

The stomping of the dwarven leader was evident even before his booming accented voice battered the wagon from outside. “Ye in there, boy? I seen ya went straight for yer wagon without even so much as a ‘how d’ya do!’

“Ye done on yer fool Quest at least? Me and mine’s lookin’ to be as far from this copse o’ trees before night falls in full. Say the word and we’ll pull up stakes faster ‘n ye can say, ‘gallopin’ glutinous gorgons gargle gaily’!”

Vorax liked that one. He was straightforward and simple. While he hadn’t been pleased to learn of Vorax’s existence, he was not prejudiced as Vorax had been led to believe about the other races.

Hal turned around and grumbled under his breath before turning away and going out to answer the dwarf. While Vorax couldn’t hear Hal’s answer, he could feel his friend’s emotions through their bond.

And they were a whirl of emotions Vorax was increasingly beginning to associate with Hal, excitement, eagerness, and an overwhelming drive to learn. There was something the monstrous man – a term that was among the greatest compliments Vorax (or any monster) could give – recently discovered and was keen to test out.

Vorax settled into his space below Hal’s bunk, confident that they would be on the move again shortly and that Hal would have plenty to share with him.

That one was always full of surprises.

15

“Florking shirt!” Hal cursed, lurching forward with the jolt to the wagon and scrambling about to steady the many delicate vials and tinctures arrayed on his impromptu desk.

“You really shouldn’t be doing that while we’re going over rough terrain,” Angram remarked from up in his bunk, one leg dangling over the side.

“Duly noted,” Hal replied. “But being cooped up in the wagon, this is my best chance to practice Alchemy. Considering I have the aid of a great teacher like Ashera, it would be criminal if I passed it up and instead read a book.”

Angram lowered his book to his chest and rolled slightly to peek down from his bunk. “I’ll have you know that sharpening a warrior’s mind is just as important as any physical training.”

Hal snorted. “And what’s the title of this ‘mind sharpening’ book you’re reading, oh wise warrior?” He shuffled the [Mana Tincture] and the [Remel Dissolution] so they could be closer at hand.

The elf muttered something under his breath.

“What was that?” Mira asked from her bunk across the way.

“I said, ‘Tusklove: A Forbidden Romance.’”

Mira’s chuckle was mirrored by Ashera sitting across from Hal. Ashera pointed at the [Remel Dissolution], urging Hal to add that next.

It had only been three days since they left the Feltin Plains behind and the unnamed forest where Elora completed her Quest and had a Class Evolution from Ranger to Wildsmaster.

As amazing and interesting as her new Class was, there still existed a dampened mood in the wagon despite the caravan’s newest (and now favorite) mascot, the pobul Komachi. To Hal, she looked like an Asian small-clawed otter. Though she was sweet to nearly everybody else, the otter, or pobul, or whatever she really was, was standoffish toward him.

But that wasn’t the reason for the lowered spirits.

It was Ashera’s unyielding demand to leave the party and stay with the caravan no matter what. They still had found no way to help her with her problem.

Ashera wasn’t making matters any better by pointedly ignoring any attempts to help and continuing with her life as some sort of quartermaster for the caravan as a whole.

A job that as much as Hal hated to admit it, she was startlingly good at.

In just a few days she managed to take stock of all their supplies, rearrange the food stores to be best distributed to those that needed it and most of the meals she made were now in a huge cauldron that fed most of the caravan.

No matter how good she was as a quartermaster, it was obvious that she was miserable. She put on a good face, but Hal had seen into her heart. He knew how much it really hurt her to have to stay back while they went out to fight.

The first time a group of monsters attacked the caravan, a pack of large mutated felines with spines running down their backs, Hal could see the way she nearly picked up her new hammer and joined them.

Nearly.

Then the reality set in and for a moment she dropped the mask of the pleasant housekeeper. The look she gave Hal was one of abject misery.

Unable to comfort her, or do much of anything for her, he went out with the others to meet the threat head-on. They were getting good at working as a team. Even without Ashera – replaced by Buffrix’s Mender prowess – they were a force to be reckoned with.

Since Ashera’s affliction, they racked up more than 17,000 EXP. A matter none of them were keen on voicing aloud. They all knew that each excursion, each fight to defend the caravan would only widen the gulf between Ashera and the rest.

Hal had been holding off on committing the EXP to Beastborne in case he needed to use another mass Dominate. He did not want to incur another EXP debt. But since the last battle, he now had enough EXP that even with taking Beastborne to 17, he would have a buffer of around 10,000.

A nice round number that, quite honestly, might not even be enough if he needed to use Dominate to its full extent.

Placing the EXP, Hal felt the exhilaration of the Level Up experience and idly wondered how many people were addicted to it.

Beastborne reaches Level 17.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

He needed to catch his INT up. Now that he could draw on some of it to physically empower himself, it was worth even more. CHR seemed to increase the damage of his Beast Magic a little, but not nearly as much as INT.

Even with the +35% CHR boost from Oathforger’s Regal Bearing, INT was still stronger point-for-point.

Bringing up his truncated stats, he looked over them again. It was always such a pleasing thing to see his attributes rise.

[Status]

Hal Williams

Level: 32

Discordant Stone: 10,200 /55,000

Strain: 0/50

BP: 15/15

Classes

Beastborne: 17

Novice: 10

Oathforger: 5

Resources

HP: 450/450 (+75)

SP: 385/385

MP: 575/575 (+75)

Attributes

STR: 10 (+4)

VIT: 20 (+5)

DEX: 10 (+2)

AGI: 10 (+2)

INT: 42 (+7)

MND: 45 (+5)

CHR: 30 (+16)

Regeneration

HP/hr: 64.8

SP/hr: 57.8

MP/hr: 154.6

The dwarves were held back strictly out of deference to Hal. Only a few times had they come out in force when there were simply too many creatures assaulting them. The Feltin Plains weren’t nearly as peaceful as they looked.

Now that they were traveling northward into the Mirrorlands, a strange reddish-purple hued land of crystallized grass and plant-life, they were heading to the place the Shadow Sages told Hal of with all speed.

Nobody wanted to stay in the Mirrorlands longer than was necessary. Hal had to resist the urge to split the caravan and send the others south toward the Shiverglades.

Even now, the desire to spare most of the caravan whatever troubles lay ahead rattled around in his head. “Are you sure we shouldn’t at least send most of the caravan to the edge of the Mirrorlands?” Hal asked, speaking to the room at large.

“We already went over this with Durvin,” Elora said, stroking a sleeping Komachi resting on Vorax’s lid.

Ever since those two met they were nearly inseparable. Through his bond with the mimic, Hal could feel Vorax’s protective attitude toward the frail pobul. He’d never let any harm come to her. Mixed in those empathetic messages was something else that Hal struggled to sort out. Almost as if Vorax knew Komachi didn’t need protection.

“You really want to deprive a dwarf of Shardite?” Angram said with a chuckle. “I mean you’re the boss, so it’s your call. But have you heard the songs from their wagons? They’re singing ‘yer praises boy’ as Durvin would put it. The eager little muscle-bound miners are just itching to get their hands on that rare stuff. If you tell them no, after already agreeing to lead them in….”

Hal blew out a long, exasperated breath. “Yeah, I know. It feels reckless though.”

“As if this whole endeavor isn’t?” Mira chimed in. She pulled out a [Strip of Jerky] and began to chew on it while she wandered over to peer at what Hal was doing. “We all knew the risks, the dwarves probably more than most. Would you deprive them of adventure? Of the riches that adventure might bring?”

Ashera caught the wince that Hal tried to hide. She reached a pale-skinned hand across the table and, mindful of the various delicate bottles, patted his hand sympathetically.

The reminder of adventure was like a needle to his heart. His last adventure had nearly gotten them all killed. It did kill Giel. He still couldn’t quite forgive himself for that. He wasn’t even present at the man’s death.

With a nod of his head as thanks, Hal squared his shoulders and turned to regard the rest of the group.

The inside of the wagon was quite nice. There were pull-down tables that were held in place by cunning hinges on the underside and a fold-out leg. Folding chairs came out from slim storage compartments in the walls. Their beds could all be folded up flat so they could sit around if they chose.

Those like Angram preferred to climb up into the highest bunk were still out of everybody else’s way. And most of all, it was surprisingly spacious. Hal suspected a bit of magic at work.

There were enough bunks to sleep 8 comfortably and there was rolled up bedding that they could use to double that to 16 if they needed. Not counting Komachi or Vorax, there were 12 people in Hal’s wagon.

Of course, his party stayed with him. Even though Ashera had refused to join them again she did at least stay with them in the wagon when she wasn’t attending to the caravan as a whole. A difficult thing to do while riding.

The trio of koblins were, naturally, staying with Hal as well as Luda and two of her closest attendants. The strange girl rarely spoke except when spoken to directly and seemed at peace to ride up front with the driver.

The driver’s seat could comfortably fit 2 people at once, or 3 koblins. Lurklox had formed a surprisingly strong bond with their karak. So much so that the feathered beast would patiently wait until Lurklox came out to begin hauling the wagon. Pointedly ignoring any other’s attempt to spur the proud creature on.

If Lurklox was late – which she rarely was – then the karak would slip its harness and go looking for the little koblin.

Buffrix and Jabkix typically stayed up front. They loved the sights and sounds of places they never knew existed until a short while ago.

The stowaways, including Rondo, tended to drift from wagon to wagon. There was always a new group to meet, a new sight to see.

Koblins, it seemed, were remarkably shy of the wide world normally.

They didn’t roam very far from their birthplace. As far as koblins went, Buffrix, Jabkix, and Lurlox were trailblazer explorers of a new world.

It didn’t hurt that the three koblins preferred to sleep under Mira’s bunk, opposite Hal’s on the bottom. That first night they had argued about sleeping beneath Hal’s bunk. But Vorax had long-since beat them to the claim and would not relent his right.

Something passed between the four, it was too complex for Hal to grasp, but they came to an understanding at least and there was no further fighting. In fact, the reactions to Vorax came as much of a surprise to Hal.

Even the monster-hating dwarves warmed up to the mimic in a surprisingly short time. More than once Hal found a stray dwarf or two feeding Vorax a golden goblet or some such treasure as if he were a favored pet being slipped table scraps.

Noth, in her new mortal shell, went among the different wagons. Hal was more than a little worried for her but she seemed to take something from each visit. The dwarves, already warmed to her by her drinking prowess, were very accepting and accomodating of the Reaper-turned-mortal.

She was searching for something, Hal knew. But he didn’t think she’d find it by wandering about. Purpose wasn’t something you found in another. It was something found within.

So much change in so little time, Hal mused.

Ashera snapped her fingers in front of Hal’s face. “Are you going to sit there all day staring off into space or are you ready to actually learn?”

“I miss when you were nice,” Hal muttered with a small grin playing on his lips.

Ashera rolled her sea-glass green eyes. “I miss when you took this seriously.”

Hal patted the air between them. “Fair enough. Tell me again the difference between an Aerosol and a Vapor. I’m still fuzzy on the distinction.”

16

Their first few days into the Mirrorlands were largely unremarkable. A few monster attacks, strange aberrant creatures with crystalline growths, that were quickly put down. But the worst among them all was the constant dreary downpour.

It forced everybody inside the wagons at all times. Whenever it let up, the caravan would slow to let people walk and stretch their legs. Even the sturdy dwarves were growing a little restless. They liked their mines and subterranean homes as much as anybody could but they did not do well with being cooped up in the wagons.

Even when they were able to walk outside, it didn’t help being in an alien landscape. The trees were hardened, faceted crystalline things. Light refracted off their surfaces weirdly. It often made it seem as if something was moving out of the corner of your eye.

So even when the opportunity arose to walk alongside the wagons, few took the chance the deeper they went into the Mirrorlands.

They discovered the Mirrorlands were aptly named when, during the day, the flat planes of the trees, plant-life, and jagged crystalline outcroppings, reflected an army of wagons rolling across the muddied and purple-grassed land.

At least it afforded Hal the opportunity to learn and practice Alchemy.

With Ashera swearing off fighting for the time being – though Hal feared it would persist despite what Elora had said – she was keen on passing down what she knew of her alchemical knowledge.

She was an amazingly good teacher. Gone was the soft-spoken, kind woman. Ashera took her role seriously and expected Hal to do the same.

At first, he wasn’t sure if Alchemy was for him. He fancied himself more of a Blacksmith or maybe a Goldsmith. Making fantastical weapons or delicate rings and items that fetched a high price.

If his Sanctum was going to thrive, they would require skilled artisans and a metric ton of sparks. It was one of the main reasons he was hoarding them from each kill. The Sanctum would need it more than he did.

But the more he learned of Alchemy, the more it appealed to him. It allowed him to make a whole host of things that he didn’t even know was possible. Oils to coat his weapons and armor, poisons to hurl at his enemies, potions to heal the sick and embolden the weak.

Alchemy could do a bit of everything. It could heal, attack, strengthen, or weaken.

The more he learned, the more he wanted to know. He was never a natural student back on Earth. He hated studying and reading textbooks but the tomes that Ashera gave him to study from were far from dry and boring.

They spoke of rare and fantastical ingredients that produced wondrous potions. What was more, Alchemy used many of the Monster Parts he received from fighting as ingredients – reagents as Ashera kept trying to beat the proper terminology into his head – which was right up his alley.

As a Beastborne who would naturally be scouring the countryside for rare and exotic beasts to fell for their powerful magic, he would naturally accumulate a great deal of Monster Parts.

So, Hal took to Alchemy with a fervor unlike anything before over the many days of slow going over muddy, crystalline terrain.

Alchemy is the art of mixing reagents and components to produce the desired effect when the resulting mixture is used. Typically this comes in the well-known manner of drinking a potion but the methods of receiving the effects are many and varied. Hal put down the book, [Alchemical Treatise: Volume I] Ashera had given him to read, and rubbed his tired eyes.

He laid in bed late that night, unable to sleep. Naturally, he decided to get a bit of reading in since he couldn’t do much else.

Potions, being the most common, are fast-acting alchemical mixtures that provide specific effects upon their ingestion. The manner in which the concoction is suspended partially determines the power of its effects.

While Ashera was teaching him recipes and having him work with his hands during the day, at night he split his time between reading the [Balesian Codex] and loaned Alchemy books in order to learn more about the Craft as a whole.

But that was boring after a while.

Studying and reading – while fine on their own – were not Hal’s strong suits. His attention waned after enough time and although he found he could remember the details of what he read with crystal clarity, he was bored.

Working with his hands was always his preferred way to learn.

And so, as quietly as he could, Hal gathered up his [Alchemist’s Supplies], various tinctures and reagents, then stepped outside the wagon.

The clearing they stopped in was drier than the last two. Hal didn’t have much trouble finding a free table among those still sitting out.

After all, it was a caravan with dozens of people. They posted sentries every night and many of the dwarves preferred the dark of night to the glittering brilliance of day in the Mirrorlands. The bright light reflecting off the crystals could be quite disorienting.

A few dwarves raised a mug of foaming ale to Hal in salute but they largely left him alone, seeing he was intently setting up a table full of alchemical supplies.

Not big fans of Alchemy, dwarves, Hal thought, remembering the first time Durvin asked him what he was doing. The face the bronze-bearded dwarf made was priceless.

If Hal had told him that he was killing babies, he doubted the dwarf would have made a more disgusted expression.

As Hal moved around the table setting everything up, the partially crystallized grass crunched and crackled beneath his boots. Uncharacteristically, the dwarves sitting out, drinking and eating were doing so quietly enough that Hal couldn’t hear their conversations.

It was a measure of respect he didn’t expect from the rowdy and tough folk.

They were loud and boisterous at the best of times. That they were trying to stay quiet – as quiet as dwarves could be, anyway – told him they cared about the others in the caravan that would need to be awake when the sun crested the glittering fields to the west.

Alone for the first time in a long while, Hal sat down and considered what he should make. He knew five Alchemy recipes so far: [Health Potion], [Antidote], [Stamina Potion], [Poison Potion], and [Silencing Potion].

There were three primary states in which you could suspend an alchemical concoction: pills, potions, and vapors. Each state had its own ups and downs.

Every Alchemical recipe altered slightly based on how you dealt with its three primary stats. Much like a person had their own stats, each item had three: Potency, Stability, and Toxicity.

Which helped to explain the stats on the items he received from the Corvids. Eager to rid themselves of the gross items, most of his party had dumped what Monster Parts they received onto him.

The result was that Hal now had a veritable treasure trove of Monster Parts to work and experiment with.

Technically, he could turn a [Health Potion] into a [Health Pill] if he chose to. He knew enough now about Alchemy to make the necessary adjustments.

But making pills was useless in his eyes. Sure, they were more stable which meant they were less likely to react violently or decay over time. The shelf-life of pills was in years or decades compared to months of potions.

It wasn’t too dissimilar from the states of matter. The more excited states were more volatile but as a result, contained more energy. In this case, potions were more effective than pills, but vapors were more effective than potions.

Originally it had confused him. No other Craft seemed to possess such convoluted stats or states of matter like Alchemy.

As Hal set up his supplies, he went about lighting the small fire beneath the tiny double-fist sized cauldron he set up on the table. He would try making something more delicate than a typical [Health Potion].

Under potions were three sub-categories. He could stabilize the potion with an infusion of reagents that would turn it into an ointment. More stable but less effective than a typical potion.

But Hal wanted something better. He wasn’t about to try vapors yet, the risk was too great. Ashera had beaten it into his head that vapors were beyond his skill and to attempt it would likely invite disaster.

Attempting a recipe that was too far beyond your actual skill – Hal’s Alchemy was only Level 3 – was a surefire way to get an explosion. Other Crafts, Blacksmithing, Carpentry, and the like were mild with their failures. Sure, you might get a big splinter from failing a Carpentry recipe or a burn from Blacksmithing but an explosion was unlikely.

Alchemy could blind you, burn your lungs, or worse.

As much as Hal wanted to try making a [Health Vapor], he wasn’t willing to risk that much just yet. And so he set out to make something harder. Aerosols were a step above potions but what he wanted to create was the hardest potion sub-category: injections.

Chemically unstable, they needed to be kept out of direct contact with both light and air to remain stable and useful. He had a stock of [Vials] that contained a tiny mana needle hidden within the pointed tip that could be used.

Unlike dirty metal needles back on Earth, a mana needle took a small – almost imperceptible – amount of mana from the individual and created a tiny spike that would conduct the contents of the vial into the person.

All you had to do was press the flat end of the vial and put the pointed, slightly rounded end of the vial against your body. The needle did the rest.

Unlike potions, injections were incredibly potent and fast-acting. Many of the stronger potions sported healing over time instead of all-at-once. Injections could heal everything a stronger potion could heal in an instant.

They were literal life-savers.

And as much as Hal appreciated Buffrix’s healing, without Ashera they needed a backup. Using his Assimilation, Hal could quickly top people up at range. But he needed a way to recover his own HP, SP, and MP.

Now that he had some time, he had a lot of experimentation to do. With Alchemy, with his new bone skills, and with Assimilation. He needed to know how far he could reliably heal people. With a fistful of [Health Injections], he could keep himself topped up while healing his friends in a pinch.

17

Hal took out some of the spare [Witherroot] he had and began to prepare it by slicing off its thin green membrane to reveal the pale flesh beneath.

In Alchemy, how each reagent was prepared mattered. By peeling away the thin membrane of the [Witherroot], Hal could alter its stats.

After reading about them, and getting relentlessly quizzed by Ashera, Hal had their uses hammered into his head. All Alchemy relied on those three stats: Potency, Stability, and Toxicity.

By preparing the [Witherroot] the way he was, it would amplify its Potency while reducing its Stability. Something Hal wanted because every recipe had a required stat threshold to hit. Even if you did everything right in the recipe, it could still fail because you failed to hit the thresholds.

Potency was the strength of any given alchemical effect. The stronger the effect, the more Potency an item or recipe naturally had. It was like a multiplier that amplified any of the effects – good or bad – in the ingredients.

A [Health Injection] was relatively simple. But even that simple recipe took a lot of care and patience. Crafting on Aldim was very different from what Hal knew back home.

Successfully completing a recipe a certain number of times – the amount was based on the difficulty of the given recipe – gave mastery over that recipe. Only when you possessed mastery could you alter the recipe into a different type.

Because of its ubiquitous usage, Ashera had trained Hal on [Health Potions] primarily. And after his fifteenth successful completion, he mastered the recipe.

That was a day ago.

And though Hal’s Alchemy was going up a Level every few days, it was too slow for him. He learned, that much like with any other ability or skill, taking on more difficult tasks rewarded higher returns. By attempting something more difficult like a [Health Injection], Hal would fast-track his Alchemy.

Considering its many benefits and how well it synergized with his Beastborne Fabled Class, Hal was ready to dive head-first into Alchemy.

He took a look at the [Witherroot], analyzing it.

[Witherroot]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Prepared Plant Matter

Quality: Decent

Potency: 15

Stability: 4

Toxicity: 7

The way he was preparing the [Witherroot] increased its Potency by 50% up from 10 to 15. But at the same time, it nearly halved the Stability from 7 down to 4. Toxicity remained mostly the same.

Every action mattered. While a Blacksmith might hammer harder or softer, or use differing amounts of heat, an Alchemist had to be careful with every cut. Every twist of their wrist when using a mortar and pestle, even the direction – counter-clockwise or clockwise – mattered to the end product.

His tools were basic; a granite mortar and pestle kit, silver knife, crystal-glass vials and beakers, a black iron cauldron, and spirit burners. As his skill grew, he’d outgrow his tools. But for now, they served him well.

Alchemy had three distinct stages: Preparation, Mixing, and Storage.

Since Hal was preparing the [Witherroot], its Grade changed to that of prepared plant matter. He wasn’t skilled enough to increase its quality, though Ashera assured him that it was possible.

There were 5 distinct stages of Quality; Horrifying, Poor, Decent, Pristine, and Flawless. Anything from Decent and above was good to work with and didn’t provide any negatives. Decent was the middle-ground where it neither hurt nor helped the final product.

Horrifying and Poor both possessed a Potency penalty, and any Aspects they might have were lost. Not that Hal could do anything with Aspects at the moment, but they were an important future step.

During the prep stage, Hal set aside the peeled [Witherroot] and moved onto the [Waterwheel]. As a Monster Part, [Waterwheels] needed to be carefully prepared to remove various internal organs that would otherwise befoul the recipe.

Sure, he could put it in there wholesale like he did on his first attempt back in Murkmire. But doing so dramatically altered the balance of the recipe. It introduced impurities that Hal didn’t know existed back then.

Now he was wiser. Adding in the ingredient by itself would work fine for a typical [Health Potion] but Hal wanted to make something better. And introducing any impurities would only hurt the final product.

No, he needed to be careful. With steady hands, Hal held the [Waterwheel] and made one tiny incision after the other. Using the curved edge of his [Silver Knife], Hal scraped out the black seed pods within one quadrant.

There was a severe shortage of alone-time among the caravan. But this was as close as Hal could get to seclusion. He found that he missed it. He loved his friends – his new family, really – but ever since he was a child, he had enjoyed a good stretch of solitude.

It was there, while he was alone and absorbed in a task, that he could work out his various problems in the back of his mind that plagued his day-to-day life. Ashera’s affliction, Noth’s wandering aloofness, his own feelings about how fast everything had changed – and not all of it for the better.

He could still feel Besal in the back of his head, prowling like a caged animal. While the Beast no longer fought with every effort of will to escape, Hal knew without a shred of doubt that he would leap on any opportunity to break free.

And when the Beast broke free, Hal would lose himself. Worse, his friends would be the ones that would pay the price. How was he supposed to live with that? The constant struggle for control, when the very mechanism of his Fabled Class was to ride that line?

That’s probably why you’ve never seen any other Beastbornes around, he thought wryly. A shudder coursed down his spine and he stopped his work on the [Waterwheel] when he realized he was wrong. No, I have seen another Beastborne, he corrected. At least one other… those things back in the Murkmire Adventurer’s Guild gave off that same aura. I’d recognize it anywhere.

It was a wonder how they managed to retain control of their own Beasts. Or, he wondered, was he somehow different? He thought to ask Besal but dismissed it out of hand. While the Beast didn’t lie – as far as Hal could tell – he didn’t seem willing to offer up answers except when it suited him.

Flipping the [Waterwheel] over in his hand, he went to work on the last quadrant, gently scraping the fibrous flesh out of the cavity while avoiding the delicate walls within.

Around this stage of Preparation, he would normally be able to Extract or Infuse Aspects, elemental alignments that provided magical boosts to the recipe. But with Level 3 Alchemy, he wasn’t skilled enough.

Finally finished with the [Waterwheel], Hal turned to the cauldron. He took out his vials of [Tree Sap] and [Fresh Water], pouring them into the cauldron. With a double-tap of his two fingers on the small silver-threaded black disk below, a tiny spirit flame blossomed beneath the cauldron.

A gentle adjustment to the heat and Hal had the mixture at a steady low boil in a matter of seconds. He immediately moved the distillery funnel and cooling coil over the cauldron to catch the vapors.

Alchemy was all about removing impurities, distilling everything down to its purest essence.

By boiling the mixture, he hoped to prevent the [Tree Sap] from burning which had too little moisture content to properly boil on its own. While at the same time infusing the water with the properties of the sap, leaving behind the heavier impurities in the cauldron.

It was a risk, but a calculated one he made based on his nascent alchemical knowledge. The purified essence of both the [Fresh Water] and [Tree Sap] was extracted to be cooled and condensed in a separate jar.

What was left, much to his relief was [Distilled Tree Sap]. A potent admixture of the two ingredients with greater Potency and Stability than either on their own while Toxicity was almost entirely removed.

It was surprising how much an improvement [Distilled Tree Sap] was compared to the straightforward mixing of [Tree Sap] and [Fresh Water]. Hal still had some [Tree Sap Mix], so he brought up the item specs to compare.

What alterations could I make to improve other recipes, he wondered. The recipe was not nearly as exact as he was originally led to believe.

[Distilled Tree Sap]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Distilled Mix (Tree Sap & Fresh Water)

Quality: Decent

Potency: 20

Stability: 10

Toxicity: 1

[Tree Sap Mix]

Type: Alchemical Reagent

Grade: Simple Mix (Tree Sap & Fresh Water)

Quality: Decent

Potency: 9

Stability: 3

Toxicity: 5

With all his ingredients properly prepared and set up, Hal began arranging everything for the next stage: Mixing.

To Hal, this was the easiest step of Alchemy. A set of prescribed instructions on how many turns at what temperature, and until a set stage took over the concoction was all it took to mix an alchemical recipe together. Each recipe had different requirements and therefore different motions.

Some, like the [Health Potion] Hal hoped to turn into a [Health Injection], preferred figure-8 stirring motions while others were more demanding based on the lunar phase.

It was one of the most boring parts of Alchemy as well because it could not be rushed. The mixture needed to be changed through a series of physical, chemical, and magical reactions. That last part was largely facilitated by the use of sparks, the magically infused currency of the world.

As he stirred, careful to keep a figure-8 pattern, Hal let his mind drift.

Late at night, the nightly camp of the ringed caravans was quiet. The few dwarves out and drinking had either drank enough to lapse into quiet reflection or they were being exceptionally soft-spoken.

In either case, Hal couldn’t afford to look away from the mixing and check.

He was grateful for the quiet and the solitude. Rarer by far those days than any alchemical ingredient.

No matter how much he turned over the problems in his mind, he couldn’t reach a satisfactory answer. Noth was mortal now and there was nothing he could do about that. Did she hate him for it even though it saved her? What did he actually save when he dipped her into the Manatree’s wellspring?

If he let her die, would she have merely turned into a Reaper once more, no longer tethered to the physical plane? Did he make the wrong choice in trying to save her?

If her actions over the past weeks were any indicator, then the answer was a resounding, yes. Noth – even as a non-mortal Reaper – was a grabbag of conflicting actions. She would often say one thing and then do something entirely contrary.

Hal didn’t even know where to begin with Ashera but for once he had the time to think about it without distraction. So he stirred, and he thought.

18

The mixture bubbled and boiled, soft background noise to the stifling silence of the Mirrorlands.

His mixture had changed from puce to a light shade of pink in the last five minutes, signaling that the [Health Potion] was almost finished. Next would come the most difficult part.

While he was well on his way to creating a superb [Health Potion], likely a +1 or +2. Even a +3 would pale in comparison to the [Health Injection] he was going for. When the final color shift – to a deep ruddy hue – came, he would have to be quick.

The longer the mixture was in contact with air or light – though making it at night limited the latter save for the bright line of bandlight that cut the starry sky in two – the weaker it would become.

As soon as the change happened, and it happened faster than Hal thought it might, he reached forward with the [Vial] already in his hand. The heat of the mixture’s fumes stung his hand, reminding him that he should have worn gloves, but he remained undeterred.

Carefully, Hal dipped the vial and watched as the rounded, pointed bottom of the [Vial] made contact with the roiling bloody mixture. Tapping the flat end with his thumb, a light-blue magical spike thrust out of the tip and into the mixture below.

In an instant the boiling liquid filled the tiny vial, the heat already beginning to burn his palm. His HP ticking down 1 point at a time from the minor burns, Hal carefully extracted the item and placed it on a prepared cloth for inspection.

A thought triggered Assimilation to heal the minor wound as if nothing had ever happened. He didn’t even need to concentrate any more on the ability, it was almost reactionary.

With more than a little worry, Hal inspected the item before him. A grin spread from ear to ear as the name materialized after a few moments, [Health Injection].

Still too hot to touch, Hal folded the cloth over it and kept it aside. He did his best not to celebrate. This was the first time he finally made something all on his own. Without supervision or a strict recipe guiding his hand to this exact end. He knew how to make a [Health Potion] but altering it took some skill he wasn’t sure he had until that very moment.

Your Alchemy has risen to Level 4.

+1% Crafting speed (+4%).

+1.5% Toxicity tolerance (+6.0%).

You have learned the [Health Injection] recipe.

Hitting Level 4 increased his Crafting Points, and that bump to his CP/hr was welcomed.

It meant he could make a [Health Injection] in just under 2 hours. While Hal lacked a clock, at his previous CP/hr of 7 and knowing [Health Injection’s] CP requirement of 15, (now that he knew the recipe) it would’ve take him just over 2 hours to make one vial.

But it was powerful. After allowing it to cool, Hal held it up to examine it in the bandlight and the trio of moons that slowly made their way across the starry night sky amid patches of clouds.

[Health Injection]

By infusing this into your bloodstream, you will instantly regain 350 HP.

CP: 15

Toxicity: 120

A normal [Health Potion] healed around 100 HP. Even a [Health Injection] would vary how much HP it recovered based on its age and how well it was preserved. There were other factors as well, VIT scaled the amount of HP you recovered from both spells and items.

Toxicity was the reason you couldn’t chain-drink potion after potion. Like Giel did, a dark intrusive thought echoed into his mind. Hal tried to push the thought away, knowing it was true from Elora’s account and knowing he could not do anything about it.

But the point remained. Toxicity would build up in a person using alchemical concoctions. When that Toxicity reached the level of their maximum HP, there would be nasty side-effects.

The effects varied based on what alchemical mixtures they used and in what order. If the Toxicity built up so high that it doubled the person’s HP, it would lead to life-threatening ailments.

It was ironic. You could constantly infuse yourself with [Health Injections], using his own base HP of 525 as a benchmark, he could use 4 [Health Injections] before suffering any ill-effects.

Toxicity naturally went down like any other toxin in the body. Over the course of a day, most toxins would be gotten rid of and there were certain magicks that could be used to speed the process up.

Everything alchemical possessed some level of Toxicity. It was simply how things worked. There were certain traits that quickened the recovery rate of Toxicity or increased your threshold that, ironically, came from Alchemy perks.

It was one of his ulterior motives for taking to Alchemy. By increasing his skill with the Profession, he could use his own concoctions more effectively.

Normally you wouldn’t be using so many at once that it was ever an issue. If your HP was like Hal’s you wouldn’t immediately reach for a [Health Injection] with its high 120 Toxicity. He would instead use a [Health Potion] with its much lower 50 Toxicity.

It wasn’t common that he’d lose over half of his HP so rapidly that a [Health Injection] would be the only thing to top him off.

With a few more hours of the quiet night ahead of him, Hal set up to make a second [Health Injection]. It was a lot of work to create even a single item. At 8 CP/hr it was slow going. But the tradeoff was possessing a lifesaving item when he would need it most.

Prepare for the worst, hope for the best, he thought to himself. A saying his perpetually disappointed mother used to intone whenever he brought up one of his worries to her.

He found a measure of strength in repeating those words, not as an empty platitude but as a real method of dealing with the dangerous world around him.

Planning was something he found himself doing more and more. It would be vital if he ever intended on following through with the promises he already made and those yet unspoken.

Looking over at the dwarves, watching them clean up after themselves and head to bed as the distant eastern skyline began to lighten, Hal couldn’t help but think of Durvin.

Unlike the rest of the Bouldergut Clan, Durvin would be awake when Hal was. The surly dwarf always managed to be around when Hal needed him. He couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever be as capable a leader as Durvin Bouldergut.

He had the love of his people, and his every suggestion carried immense weight. There was a measure of trust and faith in him that Hal found blooming within himself toward the bronze-bearded dwarf.

Everything he thought he knew about dwarves from back on Earth was only half-true. Sure, they were a little insular but what group wasn’t?

They didn’t hate magic as all the stories said they did. They were definitely capable of sneaking and being quiet. Most importantly, they were surprisingly open regarding the koblins and even Vorax.

The stories Hal grew up on, legends of a certain dark elf roaming the wild world set against him because of his dark-skinned heritage, told him that above all else, dwarves hated goblins. Koblins – even if they didn’t admit it – were at the very least close cousins of goblins.

And yet, none of the dwarves made the slightest grumble when the three koblins joined the caravan, nor when a few more joined after Rondo was discovered as a stowaway. They even welcomed the diminutive gnome and the spare koblins into their wagons.

Rondo, ever the sociable one, was more than glad to learn from the dwarves and their craftsmanship.

Hal only saw him every now and again, the recent inclement weather made the wagons rock and sway like a ship. That didn’t settle well with the older gnome, who spent most of his time in bed or with his head stuck out of an open window.

One of the nearby wagons opened and out came Noth wearing her recent acquired black scaled mail. Made of tiny V-shaped plates of varying sizes, her armor moved sinuously along her lithe body like a second skin. It was remarkably like her Reaper armor.

Noth definitely had a type.

Her dark hair framed those brilliant golden eyes of hers as she froze mid-step, eyes locking with Hal.

For a moment Hal swore he saw a wave of panic flit across her face. He wouldn’t have been surprised – though surely hurt – if she turned around and went right back into the wagon.

But Noth was fearless, except perhaps by her recent acquaintance with emotions and bodily functions Reapers apparently lacked. She squared her shoulders and made straight for Hal as if he was her destination all along.

Like him, she was probably looking for some solitude away from the dull avalanche of snoring dwarves. It was still a few hours before the caravan awoke, and the only people out would be the sentries.

With a flick of her wrist, Noth sent her waves of raven-black hair back across one shoulder. She steeled her gaze on Hal, who was busy stirring up the last of his [Health Injections]. “We need to talk,” she said with such gravity that Hal nearly stopped stirring and ruined more than an hour’s worth of work.

Hal lowered his eyes to the cauldron, then back to Noth.

She seemed to realize what he was doing. Color rose high on her cheeks. “I wasn’t aware-” she began before Hal raised his free hand to stop her.

“I can’t leave,” Hal said, indicating the mixture with that same hand. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t talk. What’s on your mind, Noth?”

19

Hal waited patiently for Noth to speak, though it was several long minutes before she did anything other than stare at what he was doing. Finally, she said, “I need a purpose.”

That rocked Hal back on his heels. He disguised his nervous chuckle with a cough. “That’s… that’s a weighty task,” he said. “We’re all looking for a purpose, Noth. Nobody can simply give you one.”

“As a Reaper, all I did was follow another’s purposeful designs for me,” she countered. “You made me mortal.” Noth motioned disdainfully at her shapely body that her well-fitted armor did little to hide.

“You did this. So, it is only natural for you to give me purpose, is it not?” She started strong enough, accusatory even, but the more she spoke the softer her voice became until it was almost pleading.

This wasn’t a simple request for a task or a position within the group, Hal understood. Noth was grappling with something every person does, only she wasn’t born a mortal. She was right, he had made her this way when he saved her life by dipping her into the Manatree’s wellspring.

He had no way of knowing it would change her so completely but that didn’t matter in the end. Noth was mortal, perhaps even elven. Her ears were slightly longer and more delicate-looking than the typical elf’s.

For a brief, dizzying second Hal felt like a parent.

It was a strange and disorienting sensation. He wanted to tell her that while he brought her into this world, he wasn’t able to give her a purpose. And that sounded quite a lot like he was taking on parental responsibility for her. Something he didn’t feel accurately described whatever their relationship was.

“Noth,” he began but stopped suddenly and decided to switch tack. “What do you enjoy doing?”

Hal had no idea how to help her but he desperately wanted to. And it came to him then, that he didn’t truly know Noth that well. He knew her as a Reaper but that wasn’t who she was.

The question pulled Noth up short and her eyes went wide as she considered – perhaps for the first time – what it was she actually did enjoy.

“I like eating and drinking,” she said quietly. “I like sleeping….”

Hal shook his head, she was describing things that gave her pleasure but not something she enjoyed doing. How to explain?

“What gives you enjoyment to do, I mean. Everybody likes eating, drinking, and sleeping. It’s part of what sustains us as mortals so naturally, we like it. But that’s not what I meant. What things do you enjoy doing- what were you coming out here to do?”

Shifting her weight to her left hip, Noth gave Hal a suspicious look. “What do you mean?”

He motioned to the wagon she came from. “You clearly came out here to do something, what was it?”

Noth bit her lip and then started to chew on it. “If you laugh at me, I will hurt you,” she threatened.

Hal covered his heart with a hand. “I swear I won’t laugh at you.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Hal realized she might have left the wagon to have some privacy and use the bathroom. Something that with Hal’s juvenile sense of humor, would most certainly make him snicker if not laugh out loud.

“I like looking at the stars, the ring of light around this world, and its moons. It makes me feel… small and I like that. I am part of something grander than just myself and it makes my indecision easier to bear.” Noth looked up at the sky above.

Hal found himself following her gaze. He quickly caught himself and focused back on the stirring.

“It feels good to be part of something larger than yourself,” she continued. “That was all I ever knew as a Reaper. It was all I ever wanted. This… individuality you mortals have is confusing, exciting, and terrifying all at once. I have no directive telling me what to do or how to do it. If I chose to run off into the woods and never return, nothing would prevent me from doing so.”

“We’d try to stop you,” Hal put in. “Only because we care. If you wanted, instead, to be dropped off at a nearby Sanctuary or Sanctum… that would be a different story. I still think each of us would try to convince you to stay, though.”

She shook her head back and forth, a banner of black hair swaying in the gentle breeze that began to pick up around them. Dawn was fast approaching. “That’s not what I mean. It is hard to explain. A directive is like… have you tried to hurt yourself?”

Now it was Hal’s turn to be shocked into silence. “What do you mean?”

“Have you tried to end your life, with a blade or jumping off a cliff or something?” The way she said it, so casually with an impatient rolling of her wrist told Hal that at least she wasn’t self-harming.

His worries partially eased, Hal shrugged. “I suppose I’ve thought about it more than once or twice.”

“No, Hal. I’m asking if you have tried.”

As much as he wanted to lie, to tell her a comfortable fiction, he found he couldn’t. Not to Noth. “I have.”

“And clearly you’re here still, so you must have stopped yourself from completing the task,” she reasoned.

All Hal could do was give Noth a curt nod and push away the dark memories as hard as humanly possible.

Something in Noth recognized whatever emotion Hal couldn’t get locked down and back into its dark little box. Her features softened with sympathy and understanding.

No pity, no judgment.

Noth reached over and placed an ungloved hand on Hal’s bicep. “That deep-seated self-preservation streak? That’s what a directive feels like to a Reaper. It is hard to overcome. As a mortal, I feel none of that. Well, almost none. Your directive is to stay alive… that’s it.

“You have no web of rules and directives dictating your actions and how you should do specific things. When I became soulbound to you, many of my directives were broken. That was not something a Reaper should ever do. And yet, I did them. I could have broken the tether at any time if I so chose. I might have died or some other gruesome end may have awaited me but I chose not to.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Hal said.

Noth let go of Hal and wrapped her arms around herself. “You don’t get it. I shouldn’t have been able to do that. It’s like if you were able to kill yourself just because you wanted to. There was no directive. No urge deep in my soul to not do it. And the deeper I went, the more those directives of staying impartial, staying out of mortal affairs, began to drift away.”

“Noth, what are you saying?”

When she looked back at Hal, her golden eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I’m saying… I forgive you. Because I realize you didn’t make me mortal. I did. Every decision that countermanded my directives was a step along the path to becoming mortal. You may have saved me and bound me to the physical plane but I was already well on my own way to becoming like all of you.

“I have hated you deep in my heart ever since I became mortal. At first, I didn’t understand it. I thought it was some foolish mortal emotion but the longer I spent around you, I realized I hated you. I blamed you. In my mind, you did this to me. And I hated you for it.”

Noth’s words hung in the air between them. It was all Hal could do to keep mechanically stirring in a figure-8 pattern. His voice didn’t work. He wondered why Noth was always apart but he thought it was because she was trying to figure things out.

Not that she hated him.

It all made so much more sense now. She was distancing herself from him. Back at the Bouldergut camp, he thought they were getting closer, becoming actual friends.

“I’m sorry, Noth,” he managed to say, though it felt like his throat was closing up. He didn’t blame her for hating him. Being a Reaper was all she ever knew. Whether his intentions were good or not didn’t matter. He had taken her away from that.

Another guilty load to bear.

Before Hal could try to say something else, Noth barreled into him and wrapped him up in a tight embrace. Borne several feet away by the surprising strength of the woman, Hal started to protest but stopped.

Let it burn, he thought, looking through the curtain of Noth’s hair to the mixture already beginning to smoke.

Hal wrapped his arms tightly around Noth and for a moment enjoyed the close personal contact. Something he didn’t realize he had been missing for so long. He suddenly found that he didn’t want to let go. His heart pounded so hard against his ribcage there was no way Noth couldn’t feel it.

But he didn’t care.

In a way, they both needed this. Hal tried not to read too much into it, he wanted to enjoy the fleeting moment for what it was. A tender embrace between two very different, but perhaps equally lonely, people.

All too soon the hug was over, and Hal was quick to accept it. Her scent lingered in the air around him, vanilla, and a hint of spice that Hal found deeply pleasing. He could still feel the warmth of her, even though she wore her armor, on his skin.

Shaking his head to dispel the schoolboy thoughts, Hal looked at Noth to find a distant, whimsical look on her flushed features.

A moment later she was back, her eyes focused and set on Hal. “I forgive you, Hal for whatever that may be worth to hear. But I still need a purpose.”

20

Hal still didn’t know how to help her. Noth was a whirlwind of constant change. One moment she wanted one thing, the next it was entirely different. Hal still didn’t quite have his bearings after that surprising hug.

All the while a dark voice in the back of his head told him he was reading too much into it.

Before she had gotten sidetracked, Noth was telling him she liked to come out to view the night sky. To feel connected to something greater than herself. She wanted a group, that much was clear.

But she also was mortal now and perhaps part of her desire for a group was an effort to reclaim some fragment of her old life when things made sense.

“Please,” Noth urged.

Hal couldn’t stand the pleading tone in her voice. He understood, perhaps more than anybody except Noth, what it felt like to be rudderless in a wide ocean. Everybody else seemed to know where to go and what to do while he floated, adrift.

It was how he spent most of his life and only since coming to Aldim did he began to change for the better. But it was slow and he still – almost weekly now – felt like that.

An improvement over the daily feelings of being directionless but hardly gone.

It had only been a month and change since he first came to Aldim after all. People didn’t change that quickly. Not real people at least. Movies and books had people learning valuable life lessons in the span of hours and changing all their decades-long ingrained habits instantly.

Never to relapse. Never to slip back into old habits. And if they did, it was never shown.

That wasn’t normal. If it was, Hal realized he wasn’t normal. He slipped up. Made mistakes again and again. What change he was able to enact was slow and painful.

“You like being part of something larger than yourself,” Hal said, “but is that because you enjoy working toward a goal beyond something you can do yourself, or because you want to feel that comfort of being in a group of like-minded people? There’s a difference.”

Noth chewed on that for a while. They were still close, less than a foot apart. Hal’s [Health Injection] long-since turned to a gooey charred mess that would take him the better part of an hour to scrub clean.

“What I’m trying to ask, Noth, is what do you want to do with the time you have? You’re used to thinking in terms of centuries, or millennia. Your life was endless and so you took the necessary steps of somebody who might live to see the rise and fall of countless empires.

“But you’re mortal now. Time is limited. Even if you manage to live for centuries, that is still much shorter than an unending life. Things are different now. What would you like to see done? What would you like to accomplish?”

As the sun crested the glittering western reaches, tall spires of crystal captured and fractured the golden morning light into a dazzling display. Hal saw it all, and wanting to share this moment with Noth still deep in thought, he gently grabbed her shoulders.

Her eyes went wide for a moment but she let him guide her around to face the sunrise side-by-side with Hal. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

“It really is,” Hal agreed.

After a few moments of the scintillating display, Noth said, “I want more of these.”

“What do you mean?”

Noth gently bumped Hal’s shoulder with her own. “I want more moments like this. Quiet mornings, beautiful sunrises, a world holding its breath. I want more. I want a home. A place I feel welcome, known. Safe.

“I want to have friends and family. I want to feel pain and sorrow, love and longing, rage and passion! I want to feel alive and share my life with those I care about…” Just as she was gaining steam her voice drifted off.

Noth’s next words were barely above a whisper but loud enough that Hal could hear her, as close as she was to him. “I want somebody to care about me… and I want to care for them.”

Without conscious thought, Hal looped an arm over Noth’s narrow shoulders and brought her into a side-hug. He said nothing, and after a moment of Noth looking at him – they were nearly the same height after all – she laid her head on his shoulder and they watched the dawn greet the world in silence.

After the spectacle was over and the sounds of the caravan waking up began to wash over them, the pair broke apart. Neither looked at each other directly as if whatever spell had been holding them was now broken and the moment of closeness was passed.

Hal was the first to get his voice back. “There’s always room in our wagon for you, Noth. I can’t promise that you’ll like everybody you meet or that you’ll have the family you want. But unless you try, you’ll never know. We’ve missed you.”

That last part gave Noth a start, she narrowed her eyes fractionally at Hal as if she wasn’t sure she believed him. Whether she knew that he meant he missed her, or she doubted the entire thing, Hal couldn’t be sure.

“I would like that. The dwarves… they are very loud sleepers. That is not normal, is it?” she asked.

With a chuckle, Hal shook his head. “No. Well, maybe for them. But definitely not for other peoples. Are you just getting up for the day?”

Noth nodded. “I like getting up early when nobody’s around…” She cast a sly sidelong glance at Hal. “Usually. What about you?”

“I thought I would get an early rise today too,” Hal lied.

“Then perhaps we can talk more over breakfast,” Noth said with an edge of eagerness to her voice Hal had rarely heard before. “Breakfast is one of my favorite meals of the day.”

“One of?” Hal asked, heading to the table and gathering up his supplies.

Noth followed him and watched what he was doing with curious, bright eyes. “Yes, I also love lunch and dinner too. Recently, Durvin told me of this wondrous thing called Brunch. It is when you have breakfast for lunch. I would dearly like to try that sometime. To think… breakfast at lunchtime.” Noth shook her long flowing black mane out. “Mortals are so inventive.”

It was hard not to laugh. In the span of a few minutes, she went from a very somber and serious woman to sounding like a hobbit. Hal nodded along, listening to her melodious voice. She rarely was excited about anything and he would not take this away from her.

There were so many wonders left for Noth to discover, Hal realized. Things she might have dismissed as a Reaper or simply didn’t understand without the emotional context of being mortal.

That reminded Hal, and as he finished up putting everything away, he turned to find Noth staring at him. After a moment he recovered and said, “Noth, what is your Class now? You were a Reaper before but it was never clear whether that was a race or a Class or… something entirely else.”

“Oh, it was both, I guess. There was very little distinction. I could no longer be a Reaper than you could. Ashera explained Classes to me and the distinction between a Fabled Class and a normal Class. Though my Status simply says it is a Class, does it say that for you?”

“Yeah, I’m not from Aldim so I don’t really understand what makes something a Fabled Class or not. My guess is a rarer, stronger Class than normal. But how that’s judged, I have no idea.”

Noth placed a fingertip to her pursed lips and struck a pensive pose. “Then I think I have a Fabled Class. It has many strengths and few weaknesses and I have asked nearly everybody in the caravan if they have heard of it. None of them have, so it is definitely rare.”

Walking side-by-side they headed to Hal’s wagon. “Well, what is it?”

“Dark Knight. I have not had… much time to use it. I mostly practice it late at night or early in the morning when few are around. It has strange powers that I still do not fully understand. I would not want to alarm anybody.”

Hal opened the door to the wagon, finding most of the group inside asleep except for the koblins who were awake and sitting under Hal’s folded-up bunk playing cards with Vorax.

“Psshhkoh, you’se no sneak-swipe,” Lurklox said, pointing an accusatory mitten at one of Vorax’s purple tendrils snaking off to the side and trying to steal from a pile of cards while another tendril held a fanned out set of cards before the treasure chest.

Noth smiled seeing the koblins. It was hard not to.

“You can have my bunk,” Hal said, motioning to the only folded up bunk. He wasn’t about to ask Noth to sleep on the floor.

He wasn’t getting much sleep lately anyway.

He used to be a heavy sleeper, often going 10 or 12 hours if nothing woke him up. That could have also been the depression. Now he was lucky to get 4 hours a night. He was never sure if it was nightmares or something else that awoke him but whenever he did wake up, he never could fall back asleep.

Noth started to protest but Hal held up a hand. “Or you can talk to anybody else who might want to give up their bunks. Not counting the koblins-” He waved at them, and when the koblins saw him they threw down their cards as one and ran to him and into him.

Vorax, sensing an opportunity gathered up all the dice, cards, and coin on the ground. With one sweep of his pseudopods, he dumped it all into his waiting, velvet-lined maw.

Knocked over by the overeager koblins, Hal tumbled back out of the wagon and luckily missed the narrow steps to land on the somewhat hard partially crystalized purple grass. “Hal-savior!” they cried as once. “Is time now for new-day-tasty-noms?”

21

After the commotion of the koblins, it didn’t take long for Hal’s group to wake up. Ashera was the first one up and the first one out to go make breakfast. Nobody tried to stop her, most of them had given up on that. It was futile and on a more selfish note, her cooking was amazing.

Nobody wanted to miss out on whatever Ashera would make.

They gathered around the campfire Ashera set up with a large metal ring. She used a gargantuan wok to saute vegetables and all sorts of things like bacon, eggs, sausage, and anything else she could find.

The last to wake up, despite Elora already being up was Komachi. The tiny pobul-otter-thing snoozed peacefully in Elora’s arms, bundled up like a baby. Only when the mouth-watering scents of breakfast wafted to her little black nose did Komachi wake up.

And when Komachi woke up, especially to the scent of food, she let everybody know. She squonked loudly – a strange need-filled noise somewhere between a honk and a squeal – and scrambled with surprising strength and eagerness toward the food. Utterly heedless of any danger to herself.

The food was all Komachi saw for the first few moments – and often until Elora or somebody took pity on her and fed her a morsel – but eventually, she would calm down. Sometimes she acted like she had been starving for days when everybody in the camp knew that Komachi ate better than most of them.

Hal wondered if it was all a ruse and she was awake the entire time but simply didn’t have the energy to walk around until she ate. More often than not she was seen being carried or riding somebody.

Sometimes she’d leap from one passing person in the camp to another to get to where she was going instead of just walking there.

There was always a line for Ashera’s food. It was understood that she would serve her wagon first but then anybody who wanted some were free to have it and so lines began to form well before Ashera was finished.

With their plates full they returned to the side of their wagon, where an emerald cloth awning covered a small table in a bit of shade. It was a crisp morning that hardly required it but with the recent weather, it was better to be safe than sorry.

No matter how good Ashera’s cooking was, nobody liked soggy rained-on food. Nobody remarked on the extra place at the table for Noth. She was welcomed back as if she had never left. The smile she tried to keep hidden from everybody kept cracking the surface of her calm exterior from time to time.

She was enjoying herself. That much was clear. And while Hal still wasn’t sure how he might begin to help her to find a purpose, this felt like a good start.

“Komachi!” squealed the eponymously named pobul. She scarfed down her plate faster than even the hungriest dwarf could and went back for seconds, thirds, and even fourths.

At a glance, Hal estimated that Komachi ate roughly half of all the food his wagon ate. It seemed an impossible thing, but the sheer volume of food she scooped into her ravenous, adorably furry maw said otherwise.

She also had a penchant to swipe food off of each person’s plate. It was interesting to see that, as one, they all set aside some of their food for Komachi’s coffee-brown grabby paw to swipe.

It was a little bit like an offering, Hal thought. One that the pobul eagerly accepted as if it were her due.

“We’ve got a couple days of travel yet until we reach this area you described,” Angram said, pulling out a small rolled-up map. Before anybody could begin to move their plates aside, Angram snapped his nimble elvish fingers and the scroll unfurled.

It hung in the air as if pinned to a board right next to Angram’s smirking face. He motioned with a fork to a small red dot. “This is where we are right now,” he said, nodding deferentially to Hal. It was, after all, Hal’s [Explorer’s Map] that showed their relative position and filled in the map around him with labels of areas and places of note.

“And we need to get here, at this clover-looking nexus of three lakes. Then we’ll make a beeline straight south back into the Feltin Plains and south into the Dorner Mountains. There’s a mountain pass we can use to cut through closer to the Shiverglades.”

Mira waved a speared piece of diced and roasted potato on the end of her fork as she pointed at the map. “Can’t we just keep going south through the mountains and into the Shiverglades? I mean, it sure seems easier than going all the way around to the west. Not to mention… Hal’s raised quite a bit of fuss in Murkmire. Those guys looking for him aren’t going to give up that easily I imagine. If there’s a well-known way into the Shiverglades, what if they’re waiting for us?”

That was something Hal constantly had on his mind. What if Rinbast was waiting for him at the entrance to the Shiverglades with an army? It was one of the few untamed lands in the Fallmark region. And a rather obvious destination for somebody looking to set up a rival Sanctum without leaving the continent or passing right next to Rinbast’s seat of power.

Now that Hal thought about it, that he managed to get away from that area was nothing short of a miracle.

When Hal came back to the present, he found several faces turned his way. He would never get used to that. Hal looked to Angram, one of the most accomplished Rangers in their group. He knew the southern areas of Fallmark very well.

“How likely will we be able to find a way through the mountains into the Shiverglades?” Hal asked.

Angram’s answer was immediate and expected, “Nearly impossible. The Barrier Peaks are justly named. They permit nothing in or out. Short of a dwarven tunnel between the two, there are only two land routes in or out of the Shiverglades.” He pointed to the one westward and the other eastward.

“With any luck, assuming the Founder – Rinbast – has grown wise to what’s going on and wishes to put an overt end to it, his likeliest location for an assault would be on the eastern end. It’s well-known that Withermere is sympathetic to our cause and holds no love for Rinbast.”

“That was our original plan,” Elora reminded everybody. “We were supposed to go south from the Emerald Strand, straight into Withermere and then to the Shiverglades.”

Ashera rested a comforting hand on Elora’s shoulder. “Yes,” she said with a faint smile. “But life has a way of twisting our path forward. If not for going to Murkmire we would have never met Mira, Giel, Noth, or Rondo. Hal most definitely would not have gained as much strength as he did. And above it all, a lurking threat would have remained below Murkmire, while we were blissfully unaware. What havoc might that thing have wrought if Hal didn’t stop it?”

Noth gave Hal a look. Of all of them, she was the only one who knew the true story behind Shae’kathoth and Thirty-seven, Alquist, as Hal named him to the others.

It was a secret about Hal’s origins and those of the Founder, Rinbast, that he planned to take to his grave.

Some secrets were too big to ever let out.

Luda leaned forward, her third crystalline “eye” at the center of her forehead gleamed brightly in the early morning light. “And I would have likely been killed by some horrible beast, if not the Founder himself,” she added in. “I have not forgotten your kindness in granting me refuge.”

Ashera motioned to Luda.

“We would lack a host of sturdy dwarves, an entire clan to help us build a Sanctum,” Hal said, motioning with one arm flung wide to indicate the whole of the caravan. “No comfortable wagons to sleep in out of the rain and wind. Our journey, though detoured because of me, may still take nearly the same amount of time as it originally would have. And the meantime we are supplied and able to fend ourselves against nearly any attack against us.”

Elora conceded the point with a nod. “I would dearly like-”

“Ahem.”

All heads turned to Komachi.

“Komachi would not be here if you did not come rescue me,” she pointed out, as if that was the most obvious and important part of the whole affair. “Komachi has blessings for the caravan that Elora is not using!”

Komachi squonked her displeasure at Elora and then climbed up her until she nestled around her neck like a scarf with too much material. She was looking a little overweight.

“Nor Vorax,” Noth said. “Many powerful allies you have gained by suffering a few days detour.”

Elora reached up and petted Komachi, giving her all the affection the pobul could want. She chirruped and squeaked like a songbird, her tiny voice full of love and happiness at the sudden outpouring of love. Normally quite reserved, ever since she got Komachi, Elora had shown a side of herself few knew existed.

Ashera smiled at that and continued eating her breakfast. Elora’s cheeks flushed a little and her blue-gray eyes darted around the table challenging anybody to make a remark. When nobody did, she nodded and said, “Komachi is right, I haven’t been using her blessings.”

Mira leaned forward, clapping her hands together and rubbing them excitedly. “Well, let’s change that!”

22

Uncomfortable with being put on the spot so suddenly, Elora cleared her throat and took solace in petting Komachi. “Yes,” she said. “I’ve told you a bit about how Wildsmaster works as far as I’ve been able to learn. But one of the most important aspects is the use of my Familiars. Komachi is a Utility Familiar, she isn’t meant for battle but rather aids in camping and other activities, only….”

“Only what?” Angram said, rolling up the map he had hanging up in the air and stuffing it away into the folds of his [Ranger’s Cloak]. He was leaning forward with more than a little interest.

As the only member of the party that didn’t have a Fabled Class, he was perhaps most interested in the Class Evolution Elora underwent. Until not too long ago, she was also a Ranger.

“Only her stats don’t make any sense to me,” Elora said with more than a little tremor of worry in her voice. She cast a wary glance at Komachi, but with all the head-scratching and petting she was blissfully unaware of anything.

Elora breathed a little easier then. “The stats don’t make sense. She has five stats: Moxi, Agitation, Charm, Bamboozle, and Chonk. The descriptions make only a little sense to me but mostly it reads like…” Elora leaned in, causing everybody else to lean in. Komachi warbled unawares. “Like she made the stats herself. I know it sounds crazy but… a lot of weird stuff has happened!”

“Okay,” Hal said, leaning back and taking this at face value. After all the strange things that happened to him, he wasn’t about to doubt Elora’s word. A sentiment they all seemed to share from the somber, supportive looks the group gave Elora. “Let’s leave any strangeness off the table for now, what kind of blessings are you talking about?”

“Remember that chest the dwarves still haven’t been able to crack open?” They all nodded their heads. It had seemed a simple thing to bust open the large – and heavy – stone coffer. Their best Thieves were foiled by the complicated locking mechanism and the strongest among the dwarves couldn’t do more than scratch the hardened surface.

Everybody thought it would be an easy bit of loot. And everybody had turned out to be very wrong. But nobody could forget the sight of slender Elora carrying it like it weighed nothing. When she set it down, it had taken five dwarves to lift it up into a wagon. And the wagon groaned with the added weight so much that it was largely emptied to prevent any damage.

But the allure of such a challenge was so enticing to the dwarves and their canny minds that they hardly minded the cramped quarters during the daytime rides. Elora had given the coffer to Hal to do with as he wanted, and Hal – hoping to motivate the dwarves – had offered 10% of its contents or similar value to the one who was able to open it.

So far, nobody had.

“She used magic on it, one of her blessings, something called Bamboozle: Weight. I don’t know what it is but its use is easy enough to understand. And the description of Wildsmaster mentioned that Utility Familiars often boosted the efficacy of the party like a camping buff.

“But her stats change all the time. Sometimes I’ll be looking at them and they’ll say something entirely different for a moment. Once, her Moxie was at nine-thousand. I looked back, and it was ninety. The whole day she looked at me warily as if she knew I saw something I shouldn’t see.”

“Does she scare you?” Hal asked seriously. “Do you think she’s a threat?”

It was weird talking about the cute, adorable, slightly overweight pobul sitting on Elora’s shoulders like she was some potential threat to the caravan while she was right there. But Komachi was unfazed by the talk of her. So long as they didn’t use her name, she didn’t seem to pay much attention if she was getting affection.

For a long while Elora thought about what Hal said but eventually, she shook her head. “No, she has a kind heart. It worries me, is all.”

“Well, what kind of blessings can she do?” Hal asked, leaning forward with interest.

“She’s not very strong at the moment… and sometimes her abilities change for reasons I can’t begin to fathom. But right now, she has three blessings or spells available that I can see. Chonk: Skill Boost, Chonk: Health Boost, and Chonk: Treasurefinder.”

Hal worked hard to suppress the grin. Across the way, Mira openly snickered at the names. “Everything seems to be… chonk-related,” Hal pointed out obviously.

“It is her highest stat… today.”

“What do you mean, ‘today’?” Mira asked.

“I don’t think her stats are stats like we’re used to. She doesn’t have Strength or Dexterity like us and they’re not static numbers. If you lift something heavy your Strength doesn’t go down. After she eats her… Chonk rises.”

Hal bit his lip but Mira burst out laughing. “Oh that’s priceless!” she cried. Komachi turned to regard her with interest that quickly faded with Elora’s petting.

“We don’t have much use in finding treasure at the moment,” Hal said, taking a look around the ring of wagons. “And I plan on us making haste to the location of the Manaseed so we can get out of here as fast as possible. What about the skill boost?”

It surprised Hal when Elora nodded at his suggestion. He was so used to her doubting him and looking to the others for a consensus that it still felt odd when she took one of his suggestions at face value.

“Komachi?” Elora asked, taking down the pobul and clearing a spot for her on the table in front of her.

“Komachi,” answered the pobul. It was one of her quirks. She reminded Hal of a pokemon in some ways, she frequently said her own name with varying inflections as if it was a language all its own. Whenever she spoke with Vorax, that was all she said and the mimic had no trouble understanding her.

“Could you use your Chonk: Skill Boost blessing?” Elora asked her.

Komachi laid on her side and grabbed at a piece of sausage left on a plate nearby, one that Mira was about to eat. She popped it into her mouth and chewed as she thought over the request.

“How many ya wanna get blessed?” she said the last word in a surprisingly deep baritone.

“The whole caravan?” Elora ventured.

Komachi closed her eyes as if she were focusing her magic and then opened them. Her voice was surprisingly reprimanding and curt, “You must construct additional sandwiches.”

“What’s that mean?” Angram asked.

“More blessin’s, more chonk,” Komachi answered.

“How about just the people at this table, then?”

Komachi looked at Angram, then back to Elora for confirmation. When the woman nodded, Komachi shut her eyes again. Her fur rippled. A golden glow began to peek out from her typically dark coffee-brown coat until she was gilded like the noonday sun.

A spray of shivering light echoed out of her in a sphere that captured everybody sitting at the wagon and the wagon itself. For a moment they all shimmered like somebody had set off a glitter bomb. The magic slowly faded until nothing remained.

As she cast the spell a small notification flashed above Komachi’s head, detailing the amount of Chonk she just expended.

When Hal looked back from his no-longer-glowing hands to Komachi, she was noticeably leaner than before. No longer overweight, the pobul seemed quite pleased with herself and it wasn’t long before many hands reached across the table to give her pets and affection.

Among other things, Komachi was a glutton for attention and love.

Komachi casts Chonk: Skill Boost.

Komachi: -75 Chonk.

You gain the effect of Skill Boost.

For the duration of this effect, all Experience Point gain for Skills +50%.

“Looks like we have a busy day ahead of us if we’re all going to make use of this gift,” Angram said, his red eyes were still round from the prompt they all received.

“Are you up for a little Alchemy, Hal?” Ashera asked, there was a glint in her pale green eyes that was missing as of late. As much as Hal wanted to work on his newfound Bone Armor and Blades of Bone abilities, he wanted to encourage Ashera’s sudden change in mood.

Not to mention a ridiculous 50% bonus was too good to pass up.

“Of course, Noth would you like to join us?” Hal asked.

The distracted once-Reaper looked over, surprised to be included, and unsure all at once. A faint smile traced itself across her pretty features and she nodded. “I would like that.”

“Komachi the best,” Komachi muttered with a profound yawn and a deep stretch of all four limbs to their limits.

For the first time since losing her Sin Keeper abilities, Ashera seemed excited. Everybody pitched in cleaning off the table, and stowing it back into the wagon. In less than an hour, the wagon was ready to go.

The koblins typically ate by themselves, though they could eat the same food as people, it wasn’t their favorite. Meat, in particular, was something koblins couldn’t stand to eat. Whether that was a quirk of these specific koblins, or the people as a whole, Hal wasn’t sure.

They rushed over to the wagon, returning from their own meal of vegetarian koblin food. Lurklox hopped into the driver’s seat without a word. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just the koblins that came back.

Rondo was accompanying them and the sly gnome was grinning ear-to-ear.

Not long after discovering Rondo as a stowaway, the clever gnome had sworn that he would remain out of Hal’s way as much as possible. He vowed to filter among the dwarves and learn what he could. If he ever learned something he thought vitally important to Hal, he would share it immediately.

“It would seem you found something,” Hal said, motioning him to get into the wagon.

23

Rondo sat in the rear of the wagon with Hal, the door flung wide as the pair sat side-by-side to watch the strange and alien landscape roll away from them.

Vorax stood guard at their backs, making sure nobody was close enough to eavesdrop on the quiet conversation between them. Nobody except Komachi who resumed her usual perch atop the mimic as if he doubled as a bed.

The gnome had started to grow a single sinuous mustache that curled down from his muttonchop sideburns and across his upper lip in a bushy white tuft. It looked good on him. His bald pate gleamed in the morning light as he looked this way and that. “Are you sure you would not prefer a more… private method of discussion?”

Hal brushed aside his concerns. Aside from Luda and her two attendants, Hal trusted every single soul in his wagon. And even the strange Oracle was growing on him.

True to her word, she remained utterly unobtrusive. Most of the time he forgot she was even there. When Noth had rejoined their wagon, without being asked Luda offered her bunk.

Naturally, one of her attendants then offered his bunk to Luda. Seeing that she likely would not be able to politely turn down the offer without offending the older man, a skilled Carpenter by trade, she graciously accepted the offer.

It must be so strange to have people falling all over themselves to help her. What must they think of us, letting her tag along but hardly offering her that which they must think she deserves as per her station?

“I trust everybody here, and even still Vorax is making sure nobody gets too close.” Hal spread his arm out wide to indicate the rear of the caravan. As one of the two “important” wagons, Hal’s was situated in the middle of the caravan beside Durvin’s. “Unless you’re worried one of the caravan drivers or karaks will overhear?”

“No, no, no,” Rondo said, flapping his hand and fussing with his clothing. Just like his shop back in Murkmire, the gnome dressed well in a fashionable and well-kept suit of black and white. He looked a bit like a butler to Hal, except the addition of a Colonel Sanders necktie made the whole ensemble seem a bit off to him.

“Rondo?” Hal prompted.

“Oh, right. My, you are more imposing than I remember,” he said as he took out a handkerchief and mopped his gleaming bald spot. “I thought you should know that the dwarves of Clan Bouldergut view you with great respect. But, yes, yes, you probably already knew that. What I mean is, allowing them to accompany you into dangerous territory is much how their own patron, Durvin Bouldergut would treat them.

“Dwarves are a hardy, largely independent lot that don’t ascribe much to following just any old leader. Their leaders are often paragons of their own ideals of hard work, perseverance, and individuality.”

Hal raised a brow at that. “They seem to get along in a group pretty well.” As far as their individuality, he sometimes had trouble telling one dwarf from another. Especially if their beards were styled similarly and of the same shade.

But he let that pass for what it was, who was he to pass judgment on how individual they were? “While fascinating, Rondo, I don’t see how this is deeply pertinent. Clan Bouldergut is a great friend to have, and I treasure each and every one of them. I’m sure if they were displeased with me, they would let me know in no uncertain terms.”

“You have a fair understanding of it, though a dwarf’s anger can simmer under the crust for a long time before it finally blows. And with long memories, they have a habit of holding onto grudges.” Rondo put up his tiny hands. “Not that you have wronged them. Quite the contrary! And that is why I am here: The Shardite.”

“What about it?”

“What do you know about the material? Ah, I can see by your vacant – partly bored, partly annoyed expression that you don’t know much and you want me to get on with the explanation and-”

“Rondo.”

“Yes, yes, sorry.” The little gnome cleared his throat. “Shardite is a rare mineral found in only some of the deepest mines. It is rumored, or so the dwarves say, that the Mirrorlands contain several rich veins of the stuff above ground. It is incredibly valuable for its ability to conduct mana and similarly to be a vessel for large stores of mana.

“With a proper Goldsmith fashioning the receptacle you could create a Mana Battery, which is-”

“I know what a battery is, Rondo. How much could a Mana Battery hold?”

“Something the size of your thumbnail could hold well in excess – depending on the skill of the Goldsmith of course – of 500 MP. Something the size of my small fist could store ten times that if not more. And that’s not all Shardite can do, though it is one of the primary reasons for its value.”

Hal understood well enough that Shardite would be immensely useful, but he failed to see why Rondo was so animated about it. He told the gnome as much.

“Dwarves are all about codes of honor and rules,” Rondo explained. “Rules they do not tell others, even their friends. Shardite is immensely valuable, on par with Mythril. You wish to build a Sanctum, an army to overthrow Rinbast, yes? With a store of Shardite, you could create immensely powerful weapons and armors.

“There is an understanding among dwarves,” Rondo continued when it seemed Hal still wasn’t getting it. “The one who leads them to a rich mineral vein is owed sixty-five percent, often called the ‘beard’s share,’ of the mined ore. It is an incentive, you see, as most of these veins are found in dangerous and difficult-to-reach areas.

“Areas that most dwarves would not go without the promise of wealth or a good vein to mine. You have, technically speaking, discovered this vein and are bringing the caravan to it by allowing the dwarves to come along. By rights of the ‘beard’s share’ you are entitled to sixty-five percent of all the mined Shardite. But the catch is, you have to ask for it.”

Now he understood why Rondo was so agitated. This was a secret among the dwarves, a cultural bit of knowledge that Hal would have no understanding of and thus, would be unable to claim rights to the Shardite.

He hardly blamed them. If the stuff was nearly as valuable as Rondo suggested, at the very least it would fill his burgeoning kingdom’s coffers. At the same time, 65% was a lot for simply leading them there. It felt wrong.

If he had discovered the vein somewhere deep in a mine, sure. That involved actual risk. But this? He was coming into the Mirrorlands anyway and the dwarves had wanted to come along. All he did was say yes.

Well, that’s not exactly true, he chastised himself. I sacrificed a lot to get this information. To free the Shadow Sages and see that Giel’s death wasn’t in vain. Not only that but if a Manastorm comes against us, I’m the only one who can make the caravan safe. Without me, the dwarves wouldn’t be able to mine the Shardite.

It was a bad habit of his to constantly sell himself and his accomplishments short. One he was trying to break, but old habits died hard. Still, he kept his thoughts to himself, curious how Rondo would view things.

When he pointed this out to Rondo, the little gnome shook his head. “That’s not how dwarves think. Without your caravan – which you paid for – they would not be able to get into the Mirrorlands. Durvin certainly would not bring them for Shardite alone and your Rangers are far better guides than even the best dwarvish navigator among the clan.

“You underestimate how valuable your group is. Why I have seen with my own eyes how you tore apart one of those creatures that attacked the camp as if it were nothing. The dwarves are strong but most among them are not fighters of the caliber akin to your group.

“Durvin is a smart leader. He would be risking much without the expert guidance of Rangers. Rangers, I might add that serve you. Perhaps you have become used to their company. Those like Yesel, who lead us around the dangerous ground that could crack open like a thin sheet of ice and swallow us whole are all that stands between us and certain death.

“Rangers are not common. Finding those that are willing and able to do such dangerous work would be difficult on its own and the cost would be exorbitant. You have no idea how lucky you are to have a dedicated team of Rangers answer to you, Hal.”

He had no idea the Mirrorlands were so dangerous. They were strange, and the few creatures they saw in the distance stranger still but nothing seemed outrightly hazardous.

“Thank you, Rondo. Good work.” He patted the Gnome on the shoulder. “I suppose I have become used to the Rangers and their abilities.”

Rondo Reputation: +2,000 (Idolized).

Rondo’s respect for you has grown with each tale he has heard around the caravan. Among all things, Rondo is a skilled collector of stories and rumor. Your actions, and your striking similarity to another man he idolized, causes him to hold you in high esteem.

Rondo will subtly work to make sure your goals are met, even if he isn’t explicitly told them. He wishes to see you succeed among all things and though he may often be absent, his subtle machinations may prove pivotal in the months and years to come.

Rondo beamed, looking much like a younger man suddenly. “You remind me of him, you know.”

Hal started and didn’t dare look Rondo’s way, afraid his face would give something away. “Like who?”

“A man that gave his all to help Murkmire. A hero. Some of us don’t forget.” He said nothing more, only kept that wide smile of his as he stared out at the rolling crystallized land that spread out behind them. Blues and purples, pinks and violets scattered across the sparkling faceted landscape.

For a few moments, the pair looked out over the glittering Mirrorlands. Now that Hal was looking for it, he could see some areas that he had before taken for dips in the landscape. Now that he took a closer look, they were narrow black chasms.

Yesel and the rest of the Rangers, aside from Elora and Angram, had taken the lead wagon early on. Hal thought nothing of it. Now he wondered how many more attacks might they have had if the Rangers were not charting their course?

Hal knew where they needed to go – roughly speaking – but he had no idea how to get there besides walking in the general direction.

“Are you almost done, Hal?” Ashera called from the front portion of the wagon where a large table was set up with enough alchemical supplies for herself, Hal, and Noth.

Glancing at Rondo, the old gnome gave Hal a nod. “I’d like to sit and watch this strange place a little longer.”

“Try not to fall off,” Hal said with a smile. He got up and headed to the front of the wagon, stepping over Vorax as he did. Naturally, the mimic shuffled his way after Hal to rest at his side when Hal pulled up a chair at the table.

24

For Noth’s sake, Ashera went over the basics while Hal went assembling a basic [Silencing Potion]. Not terribly useful except against potent spellcasters, but it was a low-level recipe that they had plenty of ingredients for.

Unlike [Health Potions] which, while relatively simple to put together, required ingredients that were in short supply.

If they did run into mages, they would have a steady supply of [Silencing Potions] to take them out with ease. At only 5 CP each, Hal could finish one [Silencing Potion] and then a bit over half of another within an hour.

Ashera, meanwhile with her ridiculous 39 CP could churn them out to the point they were practically mass-produced.

But for Noth and Hal, it was still a decent recipe to practice on and one that didn’t produce any noxious fumes if things went wrong. That was a very real concern they needed to think about as they were all in a confined space.

Even if the wagon’s interior was more spacious than any RV Hal had ever seen, it still lacked the proper airflow of being outside or having a ventilating hood.

Even with the lesser recipes, both Hal and Noth gained skill at a remarkable rate. Largely thanks to the buff from Komachi but there was another one that triggered whenever Ashera was around, teaching them what to do. It was called Teacher’s Gift and seemed to provide a 15% EXP bonus. Coupled with the blessing from Komachi, they had a cumulative 65% EXP boost to all skills.

Most of the wagon was filled with people training or practicing something in order to get as much use out of the blessing as possible. Angram took to the sloped roof and fired off bowshots at passing marks alongside Elora. Their friendly competition gained quite a beat of steam. Their cursing and bickering reverberated inside the wagon.

Much to everybody’s amusement.

“Ashera, I keep seeing this Teacher’s Gift, what’s that from?” Noth asked as she kept swirling her beaker full of [Black Ink] and [Crystallized Wormroot].

“Ah… it’s from my Attendant Class,” Ashera said, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I teach somebody a Skill I possess and my Level is higher than theirs, they get a boost to their experience.”

Hal didn’t understand why she looked so embarrassed by the question but he quickly worked to change the subject back to Alchemy. It felt like a safer subject. Ashera’s confidence soon returned and she took on the mantle of a teacher once more, gladly answering questions either of them had.

Hal was eager to try out his new aberration abilities, but he didn’t think that the chance to earn 50% more EXP was going to come around often. While the new abilities, Bone Armor, and Blades of Bone were interesting and seemed strong on their own, he couldn’t necessarily train them.

Bone Armor scaled based on his stats and his aberration attunement, while Blades of Bone scaled off stats and the weaponry skill of the object he was designing. In a way, he could train that by increasing his Sword skill if he wanted to make bone swords.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Would it hurt when he summoned the weapon? Would it somehow grow out of his skin? He doubted it would be any other way.

It was Aberration after all.

Training his Alchemy was, in his mind, the best use of his time. At least while he had Ashera’s aid and the buff from Komachi. Combined, even with these weaker recipes, he was gaining Alchemy EXP at a blistering pace.

And there was something pleasing about seeing Noth’s Alchemy rise alongside his. She was a quick study and having a purpose, even a simple one like spending the day learning Alchemy, seemed to give her a goal to focus on.

The buff ended up lasting all day, well into the night when the wagons formed a ring and set up camp.

Only a few hours into making [Silencing Potions], Hal hit Level 5 Alchemy, the rest of the Levels took quite a bit longer.

Hal’s sense of smell was completely burned out by then. But his Alchemy had skyrocketed to Level 10, earning him his first Alchemy Perk.

Your Alchemy has risen to Level 5.

…

Your Alchemy has risen to Level 10.

+1% Crafting speed (+10%).

+1.5% Toxicity tolerance (+15%).

+5% Poison Resistance (+10%).

You have 1 Alchemy Perk awaiting assignment.

[Potions Master] 0/2

Potions and poisons you make are 20% stronger.

Lv2: +40% Potion and Poison strength.

[Oil Master] 0/3

Oils you create are 10% stronger and last 5 minutes longer.

Lv1: 10% Stronger Oils | Duration +5min.

Lv2: 20% Stronger Oils | Duration: +7min.

Lv3: 30% Stronger Oils | Duration: +10min.

[Ware Sampler] 0/1

Potions and Alchemy ingredients you ingest are 25% more effective. Poisons you ingest are 30% less effective.

Obviously, he would pick Potions Master. Aside from the Snape reference, it was the clear winner with a whopping 40% boost to the efficacy of both Poisons and Potions. At least once he got it to Level 2.

Without much debate, Hal selected the first Level of Potions Master and couldn’t help but grin.

After dinner, Hal returned to the wagon to tally up all they had made that day. He would have put it away into a special coffer strictly meant for the whole of the caravan and soon to be the Sanctum, if Vorax didn’t eat it on the third day.

So, Hal placed the many vials, flasks, and bottles within Vorax’s fifth or sixth extraplanar stomach. Wherever Vorax placed the devoured gilded coffer that day. A box within a box, as it were.

It was a joke that seemed to please Vorax to no end.

The final tally for the day was 17 [Silencing Potions], 10 [Antidotes], 8 [Health Potions], 4 [Elixirs], and 3 [Stamina Potions]. Hal took a quick glance over the medicines compartment of his coffer:

[Medicines]

- 34 [Antidotes]
- 12 [Stamina Potions]
- 7 [Elixirs]
- 10 [Health Potions]
- 38 [Silencing Potions]
- 3 [Blind Screens]
- 10 [Poison Potions]
- 3 [Mana Potions]

Most of the [Health Potions] were distributed to various members of his wagon and the caravan at large when they were made. They didn’t have a very large supply of ingredients and it was many days since they found a suitable river that they could find [Witherroot] and [Waterwheels], let alone any Treants for [Tree Sap].

Hal was pretty confident that once they settled down he could plant the [Treant Seeds] he had and grow his own, and potentially a steady supply of alchemical ingredients that were difficult to procure.

Everything he was doing or planning to do, he had to keep in mind the goal of self-sufficiency. To begin with, they would be cut off from everywhere and be entirely reliant on themselves.

So far, Hal thought they stood a good chance to survive the first few months of isolation and hardship. With the sturdy dwarves at their side, if they found a good supply of stone Hal felt reasonably sure their housing issues would be solved in the short term.

Finding a place, however, was key and so far he couldn’t get a straight answer from anybody about the geography of the Shiverglades. Nobody had been there and for good reason. It was considered the last untamed wildlands of Fallmark.

Vicious beasts roamed the frigid swamps, making any stone buildings utterly useless if they pushed too far into the Shiverglades. At the same time, they couldn’t stay too near the entrance. Doing so would invite attacks against them.

There was a massive mountain, marked with a strange swirling symbol on one of Angram’s old maps at the center of the Shiverglades. If they could reach it, that would provide the best location but nobody Hal asked knew what the symbol meant.

He would simply have to play it by ear. It wasn’t a comforting thought. There was no way the caravan could haul enough timber and stone to erect suitable housing and still make the long trek. And if they chose the wrong place, they could wake up one morning with half the buildings sunken into the soft earth.

Hal shook his head, not “they” he reminded himself. It would be up to him to decide a place to settle.

There was a cry outside, followed by another. Voices lifted in worry and shouted back and forth. Hal shut the lid and ordered Vorax to stay quiet beneath the bunk.

He leaped out of the back of the wagon to find a pair of Rangers, Yesel and a younger woman he didn’t remember the name of approaching him with their long steady gait. “We have a problem,” Yesel said. She handed Hal a spyglass. “Look to the south.”

Hal twisted about, still surprised that he instinctively knew which direction that was, and put the glass to his right eye. “What is that?” he breathed.

In the distance was a storm unlike anything he had ever seen before.

The sky was filled with deep purple light, easily picked out in the night sky. Flashes of blood-red lightning forked across the sky and stabbed at the ground in violent explosions that were visible many miles out.

Swirling clouds of purple, twisters no bigger than a large man pulled away from the roiling purple clouds and touched down to the ground. They flashed and bulged with inner light and creatures burst forth, crackling with that same purple light.

“That’s a Manastorm,” Yesel said. “And it will be here soon.”

“Good,” Hal said with a savage grin. He lowered the spyglass and handed it back to her. “Pull all the wagons into a tight box, press them right against each other if you have to,” Hal ordered. “We’ll place all non-combatants within the center wagons.”

It was finally time to see if his Manashield was up to the task. The thought of a fight against a Manastorm thrilled him. Though he wasn’t sure how much of that desire was Besal’s influence spreading into his own thoughts.

25

Hal pushed away the thought of challenging himself against the Manastorm. That wasn’t him. It was the corrupting influence of the Beast within. Over the weeks since attaining Beastborne, Hal noticed more than a few subtle shifts in his personality and temperament.

Most of the time he could spot the difference and pull himself back in line with the person he knew himself to be. But as time went on, his sense of self and normalcy shifted in subtle, but noticeable ways.

He could hardly remember a time when he would turn from a fight.

There was a deep yearning in his chest at the thought of such a challenge. A feeling that he did well to sublimate as he issued orders to those nearest to him for the good of the caravan.

The safety of the caravan comes first, Hal repeated like a mantra in his mind. He used the words like a wall to block out the steadily rising desire to rush out at the Manastorm heading their way.

Wagons were moved, teams of sturdy dwarves maneuvered the heavy things until they were so tightly packed that Hal could walk across one roof to the next without any risk of falling.

They were still too wide for his Manashield.

“How much time do we have?” Hal asked, gritting his teeth against the mounting feeling of aggression toward the Manastorm.

What he first thought was some slight manipulation by the Beast now seemed to be something else entirely. There was a sense of deep-seated enmity toward the Manastorm. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that the storm itself was headed toward him, veering slightly off its northwesterly course to hit the caravan head-on.

“Before it hits?” Yesel said at his side atop the middle-most wagon. All non-combatants were stuffed into the wagons toward the middle, creating a wall of empty wagons between them and the savagery that was about to come. “I’d give it half an hour now.”

“It seems to be gaining speed,” Angram said on his other side.

“That cannot be right,” Yesel said, bringing her own spyglass up to her eye. “He is right.”

Hal looked at her fine angular elven features, she barely looked a day over twenty though he knew she was at least twice his age. “Is that abnormal?”

“Very,” Angram and Yesel said at the same time.

“So less than thirty minutes,” Hal said as he began looking for the best place to put the first Manashield. Even with an hour to spare, there wouldn’t be enough time to set enough Manashields down to cover the whole caravan.

But he could cover those that contained people.

“Much less,” Angram said, lowering his spyglass and surveying the crystallized terrain around them. Large outcroppings of jagged crystal the size of small buildings erupted from the ground around them, providing little cover from the racing Manastorm.

Hal placed the first Manashield offset from the center of the caravan where Luda, her attendants, Rondo, Komachi, Vorax, and the best of the craftsmen from the dwarves were located.

Four total wagons were filled with civilians, people too weak or too unskilled to fight. Hal intended to create a triangle pattern of Manashields, each one slightly overlapping so that the majority of the caravan’s vital wagons could be protected.

As the camp made ready for battle, the Manastorm ate up the miles between them. What once took a spyglass to make out could be seen plainly with the naked eye.

Hal found a spot offset of the center and shut his eyes, focusing on the warm comforting feeling the Manatree gave him to be near it. There was a peace to it, a stillness of mind that was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

The Manaseed Ashera sacrificed to bring him back from beyond the veil of death had joined with his soul. It was as much a part of him as he was of it. And he could feel it there, a wellspring of pure power.

He tapped into that essence. It was entirely unlike using Splice. This felt… right. A deep flowing warmth passed through him and over him like a warm ocean breeze.

A smile stretched across his features as he summoned forth the Manashield. It flowed up through him and out of his arms in a steady stream of pale moonlight. The light wrapped around Hal’s form like a globe of opaque light and with each heartbeat, the globe pulsed outward. It spread, inch by inch. Heartbeat by heartbeat as Hal focused on the calming, soothing emanations of the Manatree.

It took him ten minutes of meditative calm, but it felt like a few seconds. All around him, 20 feet in all directions, stood his first constructed Manashield.

There was no cost except time and concentration. Unlike any other type of skill or spell, it took nothing from him.

On the contrary, Hal felt like the very summoning of the Manashield added something to the world. He felt whole. As if some vital part of himself had been missing and was just restored.

After placing the first Manashield, Hal felt something strange. A warm breeze blowing at his back, radiating out from the shield in all directions. It didn’t ruffle his clothing or his hair and yet he was certain there was a breeze upon his skin.

Nobody else seemed to notice.

He quickly set off to complete the second, hoping he had enough time for three. At 40 feet in diameter, each shielding globe fit several wagons, with three he would just be able to fit all of the wagons that were filled and provide a bit of a buffer.

But it meant that those – such as himself – that would be fighting off the creatures from the Manastorm itself would have less than a foot or two of Manashield to fall back to.

After the third Manashield was placed, Hal noticed the ravenous hatred in his chest burned with greater intensity. And the Manastorm still wasn’t upon them.

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 2.

…

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 4.

+3% Manatree Spell Potency (+12%).

He looked over the Manashield ability, reminding himself that the wagons would only be protected from the violence of the storm. Not the creatures that came from the Manastorm.

Manashield

A remnant of the Manatree’s own power to repel the worst of the Manastorms, this ability affords you a portion of a Manatree’s protections against an oncoming Manastorm. It is not powerful enough to repel monsters but it will weaken them.

Casting Time: 10 minutes.

Duration: 8 hours.

Radius: 20ft.

Applies Area Effect: Manatree’s Wrath

All creatures within the effective radius of the Manashield move 10% slower and have their DEF and MDEF reduced by 10%.

Hal quick-stepped to the edge of the collected wagons to where Angram crouched, bow at the ready. “I thought you said it would be here in under thirty minutes?”

The Ranger shook his head. “I don’t get it. It was speeding up and then all of a sudden it began to slow, like it lost its nerve. But you can see it’s still coming.”

A cold, icy wind was blowing from the south. Hal could feel the pressure drop in the air.

“It’s the astral wind,” Luda said, startling both Angram and Hal so severely that they nearly lost their footing.

“Hasalfal!” Angram cursed in elvish. Hal wondered if the filter affected languages that weren’t Common too. Not like he’d be able to tell the difference.

“Luda, what did I say about sneaking up on people like that?” Hal asked once he recovered. “Wait, why are you out of the wagon? Scratch that. How did you get out? The wagons are so close together there shouldn’t be any room down there to get out.”

The flame-haired girl shrugged her narrow shoulders and hitched her shawl up. “The roof overhangs and I am small enough to slip out of such narrow spaces. I came because, despite what you might believe, I can be useful.”

Hal swiped a hand down his face, trying to reign in the tumult of conflicting heightened emotions roiling inside of him. Would it be like this every time he faced a Manastorm? Or was this something else?

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t have time for her. That whatever she could do, it would not be enough. While undeniably important – at least culturally – she would be best served by staying out of harm’s way.

But then he would sound like her disciples who constantly kept her out of harm’s way. He didn’t want to be like that.

If Luda thought she could be useful, it was his duty to use her to the fullest capacity possible.

“All right, Luda,” Hal said, turning toward her and away from the Manastorm less than a mile out. “What have you got?”

The waifishly thin girl motioned to the Manashields. “I can amplify their protective magic for a time, if you would lend me a bit of the magic you used to conjure them. I need you to begin to summon one, so I can attune to your energies.”

Hal raised a brow at that. It seemed harmless enough, so with a shrug he shut his eyes and began focusing on the soothing emanations of the Manatree.

Luda’s light fingertips rested upon his bicep, curling around his muscle with a surprisingly tight grip. Hal felt a small thread of the Manatree’s energy split as it wound its way through Hal’s body and slither into Luda’s fingertips.

“I have it,” she declared just as he finished the third Manashield.

Hal opened his eyes and took a step back as the girl removed her hand. He motioned for her to show him. Luda inclined her head, raised her arms out to the side, and lifted her face to the heavens as if she was about to pray.

Her lips moved though Hal heard no sound. Luda’s fingers waggled and twisted as if she were wrapping threads around each finger. When she was done, her hands resembled tiny pale claws.

And then, she set them to dancing.

There were no words to describe what Hal saw.

Shimmering threads like spider’s silk, only visible when the light struck them in just the right way, connected to each of Luda’s fingers. She played the strands like she was strumming the chords of some ghostly harp.

For each finger that struck an invisible chord, the Manashields – all three of them – expanded with a hearty thrumming sound and a burst of warm wind.

She played, gaining momentum and confidence. When Luda was done, when she finally released the threads wrapped tightly around her fingers, the Manashields had tripled in size.

The entire caravan was covered in overlapping globes of moonlight that expanded far beyond the outermost wagons.

26

Bathed in the warm embrace of the Manashield, Hal could hardly believe his eyes at what Luda had done.

“It is nearly upon us,” she warned. “I will return below so you need not worry about me.” Her crystalline third eye glowed a deep purple-red, the same color as the approaching Manastorm. Nimble as any Thief, she slipped between the overhang of two abutting wagon roofs and disappeared below.

Hal went to the southern end of the wagons, amazed at how much breathing room Luda had provided them. The burly dwarves below spread out into shield lines.

Each group was overseen by a dwarf barking orders and that dwarf was overseen by yet another group that came to join Angram, Hal, and Yesel up on the wagon’s roofs.

There was a sort of organized chaos to it all. Hal quickly realized that his group was utterly unorganized compared to Durvin’s lot.

He expected the bronze-eyed dwarf to be up on the wagon, directing his troops where they were needed. As the storm approached, Hal realized Durvin wouldn’t be up above.

He would be in the thick of it.

A quick scan of the dwarves below showed, sure enough, that Durvin was at the front of a wedge formation of dwarves raising a shield far too large for him and banging his wicked axe against it like a drum.

It was at that moment that Hal felt a spike of dread as he realized he still hadn’t attained Level 20 Leadership. And as a result, he didn’t have the extra party member he otherwise would have been awarded.

Making sure his Beast Magic spells were set, Hal assembled his party. His BP hardly improved as he Leveled up in Beastborne.

Unlike any of the magic Hal grew up reading about in stories and on TV, Beast Magic required setting spells. The whole process took ten or so minutes, but it could only be done once a day while out of combat. He had a budget of 15 BP, and as a daily ritual whenever he woke up he set his spells.

That day he had set Divebomb (3 BP), Feather Barrier (2 BP), Goblin Rush (3 BP), Bomb Toss (2 BP), and Soul Drain (5 BP).

His BP was stuck at 15 for what felt like forever. Which meant that ever since acquiring Dive Bomb and Feather Barrier Hal had to leave either Drill Branch and Blinding Spit off his list.

It was weird, not being able to use all of his learned spells whenever he wanted. As if Strain isn’t enough of a limitation of Beast Magic, he groused.

Drill Branch hadn’t seen much use since Murkmire. And while Blinding Spit would increase his damage with [Brilliance] due to the +10% damage to blinded opponents, he didn’t feel confident it would overshadow any of his other set spells.

An area effect spell like Bomb Toss was simply too useful to pass up, and Goblin Rush was still his hardest-hitting spell followed quickly by a synergized Divebomb.

Despite dozens of battles since acquiring the beautiful sword, he still had not managed to trigger it’s Flash enchantment. But setting Blinding Spit just for the added damage of [Brilliance] wasn’t worth it.

Elora joins the Party.

Noth joins the Party.

Hal watched the prompts roll in with bated breath. Angram looked askance at him. “I imagine you have a specific idea in mind for me?”

“Party up with the Rangers and stay up here, I have no idea what to expect but within the Manashield you should be safe from the worst of it. I trust your judgment in picking your targets where and when you will deal the most damage.”

Angram clapped Hal on the back. “I don’t claim to know Ashera very well, but you play a dangerous game trying to force her hand. She is not as sweet and gentle as she may seem.”

Hal chuckled at that. Angram had no idea how right he was.

It was that repressed darkness, that anger that Hal was hoping to harness. To bait Ashera into joining them even if she lost her capacity to heal. She needed to be shown that she was still needed, that she was useful regardless of what spells she had.

What better way to illustrate the fact than during a deadly Manastorm, the bogeyman of Aldim?

Mira joins the Party.

Ashera declines your Party Invitation.

Hal cursed under his breath, but not quietly enough for the keen-eared Ranger beside him to miss. “I told you,” he said. “I can switch parties if you need-”

Undeterred, Hal cut him off, “Where is she?”

With a smirk, Angram pointed to the wagons back at the center.

You’re not going to get out of this that easily, Hal thought, hopping down from the roof, a nearly 16-foot drop. Something he hardly thought about now.

He bent his legs slightly to absorb the impact. He straightened and slipped into the narrow gaps between the wagons, making his way to the central ones full of people.

Halfway through he met Buffrix and Lurklox. “Psshkoh! Havior spooked us!” cried the lead koblin, falling back onto his rear.

Hal bent down and offered a hand to pull the small koblin to his feet. “Havior?”

“Koblins make new tongue-flap flavor for Hal-savior. Mix Hal, and Savior. Get Havior!” Buffrix replied.

With a snort of laughter and a shake of his head, Hal let it go at that. He knew better than to try to dissuade a koblin by then. “What’re you guys doing here, shouldn’t you be in a wagon?”

Halfway through the sentence, Hal realized his mistake.

He wanted the koblins safe but he couldn’t outrightly ban them from fighting. Buffrix’s healing was useful but he’d be much more effective if he could cast his spells at range and stay out of trouble.

Before the koblins could object, Hal said, “Buffrix, I need you to join the Rangers up top. Your healing will be most useful if you can see everybody and the rooftops offer the best vantage point.

“Lurklox, I need you to patrol the inner spaces between the wagons with Jabkix here. The wagons are vital. If we lose them or they get too damaged we’ll be lost here. Your job is very important. If you see anything call it out immediately and defend the people within the wagons.”

Koblin Reputation: +1,000 (Brightsight).

You are already at the maximum reputation level.

All three koblins went from suspicious to gleefully obedient in an instant. Three sets of mittened paws saluted Hal as he pressed past them.

“Buffrix have big brain-fruit! Lurklox, help Buffrix scurry-climb!”

Hal shook his head, hoping that the three koblins would be safe. The others, he knew, would be tucked away within the wagons at the center with the other non-combatants.

<“What’s going on bossman? Where’s our fifth?”> Mira asked.

<“I’m on it,”> Hal said, getting up to his wagon, the one he knew Ashera would be within.

<“That’s all well and good, but what’s the battle plan? The dwarves seem to have formed up ranks, are we to join under one of their commanders?”> Mira asked again, her tone made it clear she wasn’t thrilled with the prospect.

<“Doubtful,”> Noth said with a snort of laughter heard through the party communication. <“I don’t know about you all, but I need a lot of room to swing my scythe.”>

As Hal opened the door, he replied, <“Noth’s right. The dwarves seem to have a good defensive perimeter set up without our help. Our goal will be to shore up any weaknesses and take out anything particularly menacing. We’ll leave the rabble to the Bouldergut Clan.”>

Several scared and worried faces turned to Hal as he opened the door to his wagon. A few dwarves brandished clubs and one had a wicked morning star in his gnarled hands. Luda was the first on her feet, she immediately calmed the others by her presence. “Has battle been joined yet?” she asked.

Hal shook his head. “No, but I need to speak with….” His eyes scanned the room, finally locking onto Ashera trying – and failing with so many dwarves around – to be unnoticeable. “Ashera.”

Those in the wagon parted like the sea for Hal to make his way to Ashera. He did not move one inch, only stared hard at Ashera and waited.

The tension rose. The air thickened with it and just as Hal was beginning to lose his nerve, wondering if he had made the wrong choice in pushing Ashera at such a time, the platinum-haired woman stood.

Hal turned about and left the wagon to the narrow space beyond. Ashera followed a moment later and shut the door behind her. “I am not going,” she said with more conviction than Hal thought she would have.

“What do you consider me?” Hal asked, and his serious tone had the lamora tilting her head to the side curiously.

“I do not understand the question.”

“Am I your friend?” Hal asked.

“Of course.”

“Am I not worth protecting?” he pressed. “Is everything you did for me just a ruse to make yourself stronger?”

Your Intimidation has risen to Level 3.

+1% Intimidation success (+3%).

+1.25% Pacification chance (+3.75%).

That had the effect he was looking for.

Ashera reeled back as if he had just slapped her hard. Her eyes were round and wide. She found her voice a second later. “N-No! All I ever did was for the betterment of those around me!” She flung an arm wide in her agitation. “I never thought of my own gain in this. I did not even believe I would live to betray Rinbast.”

There it was. The truth Hal had long-suspected was finally out.

He had to be careful. Angram was right, he was playing a dangerous game here. One he didn’t intend on losing.

Ashera had given her all for him, for a future she sincerely doubted she would ever witness. There was no greater pursuit than in one you would never profit from, whose beneficiaries were those you might not even know.

He couldn’t let her throw in the towel like this. Everybody, in their own way, had tried to help her.

But each person treated her as gently as possible. They acted as if she was already broken.

That only played into Ashera’s belief that she was broken. Her friends were only taking pity on her. What she needed wasn’t space, a comforting word, or a sympathetic shoulder.

What Ashera needed, was somebody to show her how selfish her actions were being. She needed tough love, and Hal intended to give it to her.

He only hoped in his eagerness to help his closest friend, that he didn’t push her too far.

Ashera didn’t know of the connection between himself and Rinbast, and Hal intended to keep it that way. But using that knowledge, he thought there might be a way he could help Ashera.

It was a slim possibility, but since Rinbast and himself were echoes of each other from differing timelines, did it mean he had the same power to grant Ashera a covenant of some kind? Could he take her Sin Keeper and change it into something more befitting Ashera’s noble heart?

He thought he knew of a way. But it would be worthless if she wasn’t willing to walk the path.

27

“Then why do you refuse to help me?” Hal asked, taking a step toward Ashera.

She backed away instinctively, uncertainty clear in her pale green eyes. “I will only slow you down. I have nothing to offer you!”

“That is my distinction to make, not yours, Ashera!” Hal jabbed a finger against Ashera’s jacket right below her collarbone. The nearness of the Manastorm was playing havoc with his emotions, his anger slipped and he struggled to maintain his grip on it. “I always knew you were many things, Ashera. Many things that you would prefer hidden but among them, I never thought you were a coward.”

For the second time that night, she acted as if Hal slapped her.

Her mouth worked but no sound came out. Throughout it all, Hal let his dark gaze bore into Ashera’s sea glass green eyes.

I need you to understand, Hal mentally urged her. I know you. I’ve seen your soul laid bare. I cannot take you to where you need to go, you have to get there yourself, Ashera.

Bit by bit, the shock and horror began to fade. Replaced by a simmering fire behind her eyes.

Come on, Hal thought. You’re almost there. Get mad, Ashera. Realize you’ve got something to prove after all!

Just as it seemed she would snap at him, Ashera broke the connection and looked away. Once again taking on the perfect image of the demure and obedient maid. The caretaker who would never even raise her voice.

“I am a coward,” she said so softly that Hal barely heard her. “All my life I have gained my strength from those who have given it to me. I am not strong enough to take it. I am sorry, Hal. I am not what you need. I will only be a burden. And I will not willingly put you in harm’s way.”

For a fraction of a second, Hal began to lift his arm. Unchecked fury coursed through his blood like an inferno and he nearly slapped Ashera for falling back into that pit of despair.

Worse, she saw the motion for what it was, and rather than fear him or back away, there was only acceptance in her eyes. As if she thought she deserved to be hit.

It broke Hal’s heart.

Instead, he grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace. She held out for a moment against him, stiff as a board. A moment later, she relaxed and laid her head softly against his shoulder.

“I am so sorry for whoever hurt you so much that they made you feel this way. That you are without value purely because you lack magic,” Hal whispered intently into her ear, mindful of being poked in the eye by her large horns.

“They were – are - wrong. I do not value you because you have some ability, some skill, or esoteric knowledge. I value you because you have a strong, noble heart. No matter what darkness you steep it in, the light breaks out. I have seen it time and time again.

“You are valuable to me because you are my friend. Perhaps the closest friend I have ever known. You would never judge me as you judge yourself. When I had nothing, did you not encourage me to keep trying, to find my own way? Why should you be any different?”

Ashera Reputation: +3,000 (Confidant).

Ashera has always seen something in you that no other has. As a confidant, Ashera views you as somebody she can rely on and confide in. Someone to whom she can voice her darkest fears and know she will not be judged.

Hal pulled back from the hug and hitched up the sleeve on his left arm, motioning to the fierce golden glow of the founder’s mark and its accompanying moonlight Manatree symbol on his forearm.

“Am I only different because of this mark, then?” he asked. “Is that all the value I have to you? Would you abandon me if this mark went dark tomorrow?”

Ashera’s eyes overflowed with tears. “I would never…. How could you say-”

“Because that is what you assume I will do, is it not? That if you do not immediately prove your worth to me in some tangible way that I will cast you by the wayside like so much refuse?”

Hal shook his head sadly. “You are so wrapped up in your own loss of self-worth that you can’t even see I would never do that. Just as you would not leave me simply because I have lost this mark. What you can’t see, is that there is no one, no one Ashera, that I would rather have watching my back than you.

“You, more than anybody else understand me. You have protected me when I was weak, not with your healing magic, but by standing beside me. I don’t care if you can heal. I don’t care what magic you wield. You can still lift a weapon, can’t you? Then I want you by my side when I go into battle.”

Ashera began to say something more, but Hal put a hand on her shoulder to stop her. “I know it’s hard,” he said. “I never said it would be easy. I need you Ashera, but I will not force you. This is a choice that has to come from within yourself. But I swear to you, if you want my help in finding a solution to your problem, I will do everything in my power to see you made whole.”

Offer Oath of Compassion to Ashera?

Oath of Compassion

You have sworn to aid in rescuing Ashera from the darkness she found herself within, whatever the personal cost.

Oath of Compassion Condition

No matter the cost, you must find a way to reconnect Ashera’s magic or otherwise give her new magic in place of what she lost without incurring an Experience Penalty from acquiring a 4th Class.

While he didn’t mean it quite so literally, the Oath would at least show Ashera how serious he was. That’s an interesting way of making a magically binding promise, Hal thought.

He didn’t see what purpose it had beyond illustrating his sincerity. Not that that would be any reason to deny it. With a thought, he agreed. A grin spread across his face as Ashera received the notification.

For a brief moment, he wondered if she would deny it.

Ashera chewed on her trembling bottom lip and nodded, more to the prompt he knew than to himself.

Oath of Compassion accepted.

Once this Oath’s Conditions have been met it will transform into a Completed Oath. Completed Oaths increase your Honor, which may be utilized to increase other Oaths in strength and provide greater buffs. Certain Oaths will require a prerequisite amount of Honor to enact. The more Honor you possess the more likely other parties will consider your offered Oaths, and the stronger those Oaths will be.

Hal pulled Ashera into one last tight hug. “I only want you to be the best version of yourself, Ashera. The person I know you to be in my heart.”

The sound of battle echoed through the dark and cramped confines between the wagons. Hal had to go. Releasing her, he gave Ashera one last smile. In it was no attempt to manipulate her or to push her to realize something he hoped she would in time.

His time had run out and he failed.

With a mental command, he sent another invite to Ashera. Her eyes widened. Before she could say anything – or worse, decline it – Hal raised a hand to forestall her. “Think about what I said. party invites don’t expire, so think of it as an open invitation. I will always keep a spot for you. However long it takes.”

At least I didn’t push her away, he thought with a frown. Without another look back, Hal weaved through the tall man-sized wagon wheels and nearly stumbled over a patrolling Lurklox.

The koblin girl scrambled out of Hal’s way, throwing up a quick salute that he mimicked on instinct. Hal reached the edge of the fighting just as he exited from between the last two wagons.

“Took you long enough,” Mira said at his shoulder in an instant. “Couldn’t convince her to join us?”

Hal’s answering look was all the Dragoon needed. Her jovial expression faltered. She clapped a metal gauntleted hand on Hal’s shoulder and nodded gravely. “You did all you could, dude. You can’t help everybody you meet.”

I should have been able to help her. Hal grit his teeth and clenched his jaw to keep the words – and self-beratement – to himself. He gave Mira a nod and fell into spellcasting.

A swirl of shimmering ethereal feathers flooded around him, and Hal focused his mind on each of his party members. Only Mira stood beside him, Elora and Noth were up ahead. He could feel them through the chaos of the battle being waged at the edge of the Manashield.

Hal reached out to each of them. With Empathy, he extended his Feather Barrier to them as well.

You cast Feather Barrier.

You gain the effect of Evasion Up (+15%).

Elora gains the effect of Evasion Up (+15%).

Mira gains the effect of Evasion Up (+15%).

Noth gains the effect of Evasion Up (+15%).

Pulling out [Brilliance], Hal hurried forward as he wrapped the [Chain of Binding] around his left forearm and let the rest of its length dangle.

The sky outside of the Manashield was a bloody bruised affair of roiling clouds. Ruby red lightning jabbed at the moonlight shield all about them but barely disturbed the protective magic that enveloped them all.

Outside of the barrier was another matter entirely. Each forked stab of lightning blasted the ground and left a searing afterimage upon the eyes of every onlooker.

Once Hal’s vision was restored, he had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating.

Each lightning strike spawned several twisted crystalline creatures. The land itself was changed from each strike, some areas formed large crystalline outcroppings that violently erupted from the hardened ground while other strikes turned whatever it hit into crystalline copies.

It wasn’t hard to understand how the Mirrorlands came to look as alien and strange as they did. It was the Manastorm’s doing. It was changing the land, not as a force of destruction as he had been led to believe. But one of terrifying creation.

As awed as he was by the Manastorm, somewhere deep in the back of his mind he tucked that all-important realization away. It was significant. How significant, he didn’t yet know. But he would. It felt like he stumbled upon the keystone of the Manastorm mystery.

28

Using Splice, Hal tapped into his two most powerful essences, eldritch and aberration. He felt the change come over him, the way the power settled into his bones.

As much as he would have preferred shadow or any other essence, these two were his strongest. There was no denying the strength of eldritch’s Elder Prowess. An increase of 20% to all of his magic was simply absurd.

Fuming red curls of energy wafted off Hal’s body as Mira looked at him, one eyebrow cocked. “Want a lift?”

Hal sheathed [Brilliance] and held out his arm to her. Mira looped her arm through Hal’s and leaped with all the power of a Dragoon.

It was like being shot out of a cannon.

They rocketed into the sky high above the fight, nearly touching the top of the Manashield’s protective barrier. “My god,” Mira muttered under her breath.

As high as they were, the scope of the battle was revealed to them in full. And it was staggering. An army of creatures swept their way. Every stab of lightning into the ground created another monstrosity that walked the land toward them or altered the area in more alien ways.

Small swirling tornados of deep purple and blood-red touched down from the roiling heavens above, and where their tips met the ground a dozen or more creatures emerged.

But through it all, Hal sensed something else. Something faintly malevolent looking his way. It was not more than an itch between his shoulder blades then it was gone.

Hal pointed out Noth standing near the southern edge of the barrier, swinging her massive black scythe around to startling effect. “There, on Noth’s flank.”

“You got it, boss,” Mira shouted above the roar of the storm above them. She twisted and flung Hal toward the ground. Using Convergence, Hal braced his legs as he impacted on the ground, rolling to the side to absorb the remainder of the shock.

Though it was hardly necessary.

Convergence allowed him to use a portion of his INT and CHR to bolster his body in a variety of ways. Most useful at that moment was his ability to strengthen his legs to absorb an impact many times stronger than his 10 base Strength would allow.

The more he used Convergence the more he was able to control it. He was able to focus it on specific body parts, providing a more significant localized boost.

He came up, [Brilliance] back in his right hand just in time to snap his blade off to the side and cut through the reaching crystallized hand of some undead-looking creature.

[Brilliance] cleaved through the hand up to the forearm, splitting it neatly like firewood. Hal pulled the blade out, twisted, and kicked out with all his might into the creature’s abdomen to force it away.

On his left, Noth swished her scythe through the air, carving two creatures in half. Her strikes, when given enough room, were wide but it left her open on her right flank. Right where Hal landed.

Spotting a line of the creatures shambling through the Manashield, its effect slowing them slightly, Hal conjured Divebomb. The shadowy essence of a bird materialized in the air above him a second later and its phantasm dove at a sharp angle, pulling up at the last moment to blast through the reeling creature in front of Hal.

The four creatures behind didn’t fare much better.

You cast Divebomb.

Synergy Triggered!

The [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15] takes 243 points of damage.

The [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 14] takes 251 points of damage.

The [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15] takes 239 points of damage.

The [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 16] takes 246 points of damage.

The [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15] takes 260 points of damage.

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15].

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 14].

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15].

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 16].

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 15].

Noth defeats the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 13].

Noth defeats the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 17].

You gain 1,400 Experience Points.

You absorb 45 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 140 Sparks.

Noth looked over her shoulder at Hal. “I thought I heard your fell whispering. Something seems odd about these things, don’t they?”

Hal nodded, watching the creatures. They came in all shapes and sizes. Some were tall and stretched like taffy with crystalline jagged growths, others were bulbous and large. Many more of them were humanoid in shape but with those strange crystalline growths.

Crystals that looked distinctly different from those in the Mirrorlands. These crystals seemed to be melting with an ichorous glowing red-and-purple liquid.

It reminded Hal of melting ice cream.

A dwarf rushed by, hacking with his oversized axe. Each swipe of his heavy weapon folded a creature in two over the blade and then split them in half. But it wasn’t the blade, Hal realized a moment later, watching the same scene play out as he came across with a two-handed swipe of [Brilliance].

The creatures were highly inflexible. If they were bent hard enough, they simply shattered.

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 13].

You gain 200 Experience Points.

You earn 20 Sparks.

Hal dismissed the [Chain of Binding] around his left arm and took hold of [Briliance] with both hands. Focusing Convergence as much as possible into his arms, Hal lunged into the horde of creatures making their way through the edge of the Manashield. Noth covered him on his left, swinging her great scythe with reckless abandon, nearly clipping him a few times on the shoulder.

Mira leaped through the air as graceful as ever while Elora’s bow sang out, a continual dirge of death. Each arrow found its mark in the crystallized eye or throat of one of the creatures, dropping it before they were ever a threat.

Hal and Noth worked at the edges of the Manashield with their combined strikes forcing the tide of enemies to break upon their blades and divide around them.

The dwarves to either side wetted their blades on the creature’s strange crystalline blood. Dozens upon dozens of the creatures lay dead at their feet and still, the things came on without a care for their own wellbeing.

The creatures were strong, he watched as a single backhand strike sent a heavily armored dwarf through the air as if he weighed nothing at all.

Luckily, they were frail. But Hal was tiring, like those around him he was beginning to realize that even if the creatures never grew stronger and no greater threat pressed them, their sheer numbers might overwhelm the group.

How much worse might it have been without the Manashield where every strike of red lightning might maim or cause another creature to spawn? Where the Manastorm could set down dozens of creatures in their midst.

With the Manashield up, the Manastorm could surround them but it could not break them.

All the while, something tugged at Hal’s consciousness. Something deep within the Manastorm itself. Something was calling to him. He felt it in his bones, a deep animosity that went beyond the slowly rising Strain he was doing well to keep under control.

Even through the prolonged combat, Hal’s greatest Strain increase was from repeatedly casting Feather Barrier in order to spread the buff to his party. He managed to keep his Strain under the first Affliction Level. He would normally welcome the boost, but the creatures were weak and he suspected he might need to hold on to his strength rather than expend it all at once.

Something didn’t seem right to him. The creatures were strong, yes, but this felt too easy somehow. Of course, without the dwarves, they would have been overrun in short order and summarily destroyed. Even with the Manashield.

Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something important. Some clue that would help him unravel the Manastorm itself.

Throughout it all, he managed to get hit only a few times, but each time it took off a chunk of his HP. The weakest, glancing attacks dealt 10% of his HP. Judging by the number of potions being used and how busy Buffrix was with his healing spells raining down on the dwarves, they were taking heavy damage as well.

Area Effect: Manastorm Upgrade: Stage 2.

The Manastorm has not yet been dispelled and has gained in strength, upgrading it from a Manastorm Stage 1 to Stage 2. The Area Effects have been upgraded to include: Caustic Air, and Evolutionary Leap.

Caustic Air

The air has become saturated with chaotic mana, staying out in the Manastorm will cause damage at regular intervals.

Evolutionary Leap

Manastorm entities increase in Level and strength, evolving into new strains the longer they are alive.

He could hardly believe what he just read. Hal was so stunned, he barely registered the husk bearing down on him.

Shaking his stupor, Hal worked [Brilliance] up and over. He brought the blade down in a savage diagonal cut, opening up the husk from shoulder to hip. But he didn’t see the creature behind that one, its wicked jagged-toothed blade already falling for Hal’s shoulder.

He tried to lean away to lessen the blow but already knew he would be too slow to avoid the worst of it.

The sky darkened for a moment and a deep resounding clang echoed across the area, accompanied by shattering glass. Ashera, shield raised in Hal’s defense, blocked out the feeble light of the Manashield. With a bellow of rage, she pulled back and swung her massive hammer with all her might, shattering the husk in one swing.

You defeat the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 16].

Ashera blocks the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 17], receiving 15 points of damage.

Ashera hits the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 17] for 230 points of damage.

Ashera defeats the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 17].

You gain 400 Experience Points.

You absorb 20 points of Eldritch Essence.

You earn 40 Sparks.

Ashera joins the Party.

29

Unwinded, Ashera raised her hammer and let loose an inspiring battle cry that seemed to push the fatigue right out of Hal’s tired muscles. Hal blinked hard to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

Another swipe of Ashera’s hammer broke two of the creatures apart and a wide swing of her shield arm deflected the blow of a third. Whether it was some magic Ashera didn’t know she had or her presence, Hal felt renewed.

Ashera uses Battle Cry.

HP, SP, and MP restored.

Ashera defeats the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 25].

Ashera defeats the [Crystallized Husk | Lv. 26].

You gain 600 Experience Points.

You absorb 40 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 60 Sparks.

Monster Attunements Available

Eldritch: 1

Fear Killer 0/5

Every attack has a 10% chance to inflict the Fear status affliction. Any creature under the effect of Fear takes 15% more damage from you.

Lv1: 10% Chance | 15% Damage Increase

Lv2: 15% Chance | 20% Damage Increase

Lv3: 20% Chance | 25% Damage Increase

Lv4: 25% Chance | 30% Damage Increase

Lv5: 35% Chance | 50% Damage Increase

Elder Prowess 2/5

Eldritch creatures are deeply attuned to the ebb and flow of mana, making them unparalleled practitioners of the darkest magicks. All magic is 10% more potent.

Lv1: +10% Magic Potency

Lv2: +20% Magic Potency

Lv3: +30% Magic Potency

Lv4: +40% Magic Potency

Lv5: +50% Magic Potency

He didn’t hesitate to get Level 3 of Elder Prowess.

A quick glance at his stats showed his HP, MP, and SP had all gone up a small amount, his SP more than any others at 75%.

He locked eyes with Ashera for a moment, grinning at her. “I told you I’d need you.”

Before she could respond, Hal ducked under Ashera’s outstretched shield arm and cracked the pommel of [Brilliance] into the creature’s belly, expecting to shatter it in one blow. Stumbling from Ashera’s shield bash and further caught off-guard by Hal’s attack, the creature staggered back but did not shatter.

Mira plummeted through the sky, replacing the creature’s spine with her halberd. She landed lightly, pulling her weapon free of the crystallized ground with a flourish. “Good of you to finally join us!”

A streaking series of arrows flew around the trio, striking nearby husks and detonating with blue manafire. They turned to regard the source of the attack. Elora waved from her perch atop the wagons next to Angram and Yesel. <“If you’re done patting yourselves on the back, I suggest you look to the south.”>

For a moment there was a reprieve. Noth leaned on her scythe as the four allies turned to look southward as one.

Beyond the eager dwarves that hacked apart the weakened husks Elora just blasted, there was a new wave of creatures coming. It didn’t escape Hal’s notice that as soon as the Manastorm hit Stage 2, the creatures all jumped up roughly 10 Levels, presenting a much more significant threat.

Worse, the new creatures coming toward them were larger and meaner with strange aberrant qualities. Two creatures walked in lock-step, 20 feet tall and half as wide. On the sides facing each other, they sprouted a series of those bizarre crystals that appeared to be in the middle of melting.

Red-purple lightning crackled between the two creatures, climbing from the lowest crystals from the ground up to those attached to their faceless heads like some disturbing Jacob's ladder.

As they watched, the lesser creatures shifted and folded with sickening cracks and fleshy pops. Even as they charged the Manashield the husks transformed into further abominations.

But through them, Hal noticed something in the distance. It was almost impossible to see when there were so many creatures on the battlefield but now that they were thinning to make room for presumably stronger creatures, Hal could barely make out the shimmering rift in the distance.

He pointed it out to the others. <“Elora, how’s your Ultimate looking?”>

Nearly half an hour of fighting weak creatures wasn’t much, not to mention they had been down a single member of the party during that time before Ashera arrived. Hal was sitting at 67% Ultimate, the golden glowing bar inching ever closer toward completion. But not soon enough.

Fighting weaker enemies, even deceptively weak ones like the husks, barely moved the bar.

Noth pointed her scythe toward one of the lumbering giants making its way toward them. “Incoming.”

“If we focus on the stronger monsters,” Ashera said, rolling her shoulders and getting into a battle stance. “Then we can build our Ultimates faster. But to what end?”

“I saw something in the distance,” Hal answered, recasting Feather Barrier and spreading it to all of his party members, renewing it for some while granting it to Ashera for the first time. “I can still feel the pull toward it. I don’t know what it is but standing here fighting hordes of enemies clearly isn’t doing much, is it?”

Hal kept a weather eye on his Strain. Throughout the fight, he was doing his best to manage it, keeping it under any Affliction Levels to prevent a runaway buildup. Even after careful metering of his Beast Magic, he was still sitting at 11 Strain, just under the first Affliction Level which would trigger at 15 Strain.

While the increased damage would be useful, the greater Strain accumulation and the higher MP cost would be hard to control if the fight dragged out much longer.

<“You guys do realize I can’t hear you when you don’t use the party communications, right?”> Elora said with more than a little acid in her voice.

Hal repeated himself for Elora’s sake just as a long arm swung down to crash into him. All four of them dove aside as a streak of blue lightning cracked through the air at the same time as the colossal fist slammed into the ground.

Elora uses Pinning Shot.

The [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] suffers 120 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Bind.

Hal got his feet up under him first, using the speed boost of Convergence to quicken his movements. He found he no longer needed to coat himself in an essence in order to trigger Convergence.

As long as he was using Splice, the ability automatically triggered. Better yet, the more he used it the finer control he seemed to have. With a little conscious effort, Hal could provide an additional boost to specific limbs.

A dark phantom of a diving bird screeched to life and dove at the towering creature with its arm stuck in the ground. Just like with Enchainment, the act of attacking the creature broke the binding enchantment. But it had served its purpose.

Hal wasn’t the only one who took the opportunity to attack.

Elora covered the distance with amazing speed, running up the recently freed crystal-fused arm and drawing back on her bow. Just as Hal’s Divebomb hit the giant, Elora let loose a brutal point-blank arrow blast. Deep purple mana lanced through the creature’s smooth head and sped off into the distance outside the Manashield.

Noth swept her scythe at the creature’s ankle, severing it in one hearty blow. A mighty hammer strike cracked the Crystallized Brute’s other leg. And as it was reeling from the sudden, savage assault, Mira dropped from the sky impaling it through the middle and shattering the creature’s essence into a thousand glittering shards of light.

You cast Divebomb.

Synergy Triggered!

The [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] takes 275 points of damage.

Elora uses Lightning Shot.

Savage Attack!

The [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] takes 557 points of damage.

Noth hits the [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] for 101 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Bleeding Darkness.

Ashera hits the [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] for 200 points of damage.

Mira uses Falling Spear.

The [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35] 550 points of damage.

Mira defeats the [Crystallized Brute | Lv. 35].

You gain 2,200 Experience Points.

You absorb 20 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 220 Sparks.

Strain Affliction Lv.1 (Taxed).

You have taxed your body beyond normal limitations. Channeling Beast Magic has its costs and each use of the magic warps your body in new and unforeseen ways. Using Beast Magic beyond this point risks more than your health.

Beast Magic Efficacy +20% | Beast Magic Damage +20%

MP Cost +10% | Strain Accumulation +15%

Here we go, Hal thought to himself. The boost Elder Prowess gave his Divebomb was surprisingly noticeable. The familiar tension invaded every inch of his body. Besal battered against his cage, somehow more eager than usual to be let out.

You need me, Besal snarled in Hal’s head. This foe is beyond you. Join with me again that we might survive the day.

30

No, Hal replied. This is my fight and I will win it through my strength and that of my allies. I will not lean on you like a crutch.

We shall see about that, Besal grumbled. Despite his words, he did calm down. Enough so that Hal could feel in control once more.

Not that Besal threatened to wrest it away from him, but the very act of another intelligence trying to break free within your own mind was very distracting.

That lone Crystallized Brute was enough to push Hal’s Ultimate up to 75%. “Look for more of those creatures,” Hal said. He turned to Elora. “Once your Ultimate is ready, I’ll need you to clear me a path forward. Right there, do you see that distortion in the air?”

Elora nodded. Several of the brutes were between them and the shimmering Hal pointed out, not to mention a score or more of the empowered husks. Hal knew without a shadow of a doubt that he needed to get to that distortion.

The source of the Manastorm was there.

And with the Area Effect poisoning the air, he seemed uniquely capable of reaching it. At least he hoped he was. There was a bit of a leap of logic in assuming the remnants of the Manaseed within him would shelter him from the Manastorm’s Caustic Air.

All in due time, he reminded himself. They would have to survive long enough to build up their Ultimates. And even once that was accomplished they would need to clear out the monsters between their current position and the distortion.

Even if Hal reached it, he wasn’t sure he knew what to do once there. It wasn’t like any of his powers ever came with an instruction manual, especially the more esoteric ones.

The ground trembled with the quaking blast of another brute’s arrival. Not just any giant, but the twinned version Hal saw earlier. The creatures lumbered in synchronized movements, arcs of purple and red lightning jumping between their crystal clusters.

A handful of dwarves were batted aside and one was crushed beneath the heavy foot of the creature. The creatures spread their arms wide and opened a vertical rift of jagged crystallized bones upon their chests and let loose a rending blast of lightning. The air reeked of ozone. And when the smoke cleared the group of heavily armored dwarves was nothing more than a smoking crater.

There were easier targets around, ones that they could down with efficiency before those creatures got off more than one or two hits. A few of those fights and their Ultimate would be charged – aside from Ashera’s - and Hal could put an end to the Manastorm.

Or so he hoped.

But he couldn’t stand idly by while his people were attacked. The Bouldergut Clan was under his protection. Hal pointed at it. <“We’re taking that down.”> He summoned the [Chain of Binding] and wrapped it around his left forearm. Hal put away [Brilliance] and extended his now empty hand to Mira. <“You ready, fly girl?”>

Mira raised a brow at him then smirked that cocky grin of hers. <“Try not to break your legs on the fall, beast boy.”>

<“Do try to catch up,”> Hal said over his shoulder as Mira launched them into the air.

“You really are insane, you know that?” Mira shouted at him over the roar of the wind in their ears as she soared through the sky, their heads barely grazing the underside of the moonlight Manashield.

Hal grinned at her, dropping party communication as she had, “Normal is boring, now throw me at him.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Mira twisted her hips and flung Hal around in one full revolution before letting him fly like a loosed arrow toward the twinned giants.

He immediately fell into spellcasting, knowing he had to make as big an impact as possible. He chain-cast Divebomb three times in a row, feeling his Strain mount with each cast. He pushed through it, already halfway to the creature now, his phantasmic spells leading the way.

Strain Affliction Lv.2 (Savage).

Most mortals would have fallen at this point. Few Chimera Knights even reach this pinnacle of savagery. But a Beastborne thrives on the knife’s edge of destruction. It is there that they find both greatness and despair.

Beast Magic Efficacy +60% | Beast Magic Damage +60%

Essence Tier +1

Max HP +10% | Max MP +10%

MP Cost +15% | Strain Accumulation +25%

Just what I was hoping for, he thought. Tapping into both eldritch and aberration, he created black-boned limbs that stuck out like spider legs from his back. Each of the six limbs were angled forward and tipped with wickedly barbed points he could use to stab.

Hal summoned Goblin Rush, wrapping himself in the phantasmal blades of a wildly slashing goblin. Turning his body into a living missile aimed straight at the towering creatures that were looking to finish off the stunned and helpless dwarves.

He crashed into the creature seconds after his triple Divebombs connected. His Goblin Rush cleaved through, but only just. He focused all his effort on casting Goblin Rush over and over, maintaining the spell that was simultaneously protecting him and dealing devastating damage to the creature.

His spell carved through the creature and his concentration shattered to flinders as Hal impacted upon the hard ground. He rolled with the bone-jarring landing, absorbing as much impact as he could.

It still hurt.

The impact jarred Hal more than he thought it would, as he struggled to gain his sensibilities he noticed the upper half of the rightmost giant squirming beside him. It reached out with a single weakened claw and then fell limp, scattered into shimmering light and bits of crystalline shards.

With Edge of Disaster, Hal moved with preternatural speed. The haste effect for each point of Strain made him move well over 30% faster than he usually could. And that made his reactions that much faster as well.

So as the Gemini Giant’s foot came down to crush him, Hal rolled and pushed with all his might. His black bone appendages thrust against the hard ground and pushed him away in the nick of time.

Launched through the air and away from the quaking ground, Hal righted himself and used his bone appendages to catch and soften his fall. They were far stronger than the shadow limbs he used before. Mostly due to the enhanced essence tier from his Affliction Level.

There was something else to them as well. They were solid matter, hinged and designed like spider legs that could bend in any direction he desired. Being solid must have something to do with the strength of them.

No, that didn’t seem right. Hal pulled out [Brilliance] and watched the Gemini Giant warily as it howled and stomped around in a rage. The strength of his essence was probably a direct correlation to the strength of the limb.

By channeling his two strongest essences, eldritch and aberration, his conjured limbs were that much stronger. He caught sight of one out of the corner of his eye and shivered. He much preferred the look of his shadow-limbs.

Function over form, Besal said into his head. You mortals are too caught up in appearances. Power is power. Use it.

He still couldn’t believe the amount of damage he wreaked on that thing. It was a sobering reminder just how much of a high risk, high reward the Fabled Class Beastborne was. At Strain Level 2, all of his Beast Magic hit harder and was more effective – though he wasn’t too clear about that last part.

With the boost from Elder Prowess, he was punching far above his current Level. And still, the Gemini Giant stood. Or rather, half of the creature’s twinned bodies did.

The rightmost creature was reduced to little more than a pair of upright legs.

At 35 Strain, he was pushing it close. Even as his friends came to join him, Hal couldn’t wipe the manic grin spread across his face.

This was fun.

He knew he shouldn’t feel that way. Not with the casualties lying less than ten feet away, but he couldn’t help the giddy thrill that surged through him making him feel alive.

Mira dove through the air, her typical opening salvo as Hal conjured another Divebomb.

As one, they hit the Gemini Giant with all they had. Ashera shield bashed the thing’s knee, knocking the legs of the rightmost body off-balance. The arcs of red and purple electricity sparked angrily and exploded outward as the creature’s legs toppled out from beneath it, breaking the connection between their crystal shards.

Mid-cast, Hal was blown aside along with the others. His skeletal limbs clicked and clacked across the ground, trying to right him and place Hal back onto his feet.

His friends weren’t quite as lucky.

Ashera went down on one knee, her shield glowing with the heat of the blast. Mira tumbled into a heap somewhere behind him, back toward the crater the creature had made earlier.

Noth groaned and pushed herself back to her feet, using her scythe as a staff. While Elora was the only one to have escaped relatively unscathed. She even had her bow drawn back, a growl escaping her clenched jaw as she let the streaking blue arrow fly at the lone Gemini Giant.

31

The Gemini Giant staggered back from Elora’s shot, twisting around from the impact that blasted apart its shoulder and sent a scattering of crystals into the air. The crystals glowed brightly and Ashera cried out, dismissing her hammer and grabbing Elora.

The crystals detonated in mid-air. As close as the three were, they were caught in the worst of the blast. Walls of flame roared to life and washed over them. Ashera kept her shield raised, she just barely managed to pull Elora behind her as the fiery heat broke across her shield and split around her.

Hal took the brunt of the attack, the heat seared and blistered his skin. It pulled the air from his lungs. His outstretched arms were a poor defense against the intense heat that washed over him. The narrow bone-limbs did nothing to block the blast of fire.

Elora uses Lightning Shot.

The [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40] takes 320 points of damage.

The [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40] uses Crystal Discharge.

Ashera shields Elora.

Ashera blocks the attack, receiving 136 points of fire damage.

You suffer 387 points of fire damage.

He knew instinctively, that it should have killed him.

Gasping for breath, Hal was suddenly very thankful for the fire resistance he had from the flame totem. He doubted he would have survived the attack without it.

His HP shrank down to 173, and without thinking about it Hal reached into his Inventory to pull out a [Health Injection]. Before he could grab it, a soothing wave of recovering energy surrounded him.

At first, he looked to Ashera whose eyes were similarly widened. The same aura covered her.

Buffrix uses Ultimate: Benediction.

You recover 430 HP.

Ashera recovers 220 HP.

Elora recovers 220 HP.

…

On and on the list went, dozens of names – mostly dwarves – flitted past Hal’s vision. Up on a high ridge of a wagon’s roof, the koblin danced gleefully back and forth, shaking his staff in the air.

Hal wasted no time in launching another Divebomb at the Gemini Giant. As he released the spell and the phantom of a diving great bird streaked toward the creature, he propelled himself forward on his bone-limbs.

Timing it with uncanny precision, Hal lashed out with his chain and pulled with all his might as the first of the links made contact with the giant’s chest. [Brilliance] braced tightly against him, Hal slammed into the giant, impaling it with [Brilliance] a heartbeat after his Divebomb spell landed.

An arrow streaked over his shoulder, followed by two more in quick succession that halted the Gemini Giant’s swinging arm long enough for Hal to dislodge and leap off the creature’s chest and out of range of its long arm.

You cast Divebomb.

Synergy Triggered!

The [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40] takes 422 points of damage.

You hit the [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40] for 178 points of damage.

Elora uses Triple Shot.

The [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40] takes 664 points of damage.

Ashera helped Noth to her feet, her shield tossed aside as little more than half-melted scrap. Mira leaned tiredly against her halberd but seemed relatively unharmed. A quick glance at his party menu showed most of his party near full.

He only had two casts of Divebomb left before he was forced to use Assimilation to recover his MP.

The Gemini Giant reared as if it was ready to strike. Each of them braced for the coming attack. A second passed. Then another.

The Gemini Giant’s chest burst forth in a shower of popping crystals. Arcs of electricity leaped from one to another and then exploded in a brilliant display as the Gemini Giant loomed ever larger over them.

Hal turned and grabbed Ashera’s arm, putting every ounce of Convergence-laced strength into the action as he tugged her along. In turn, Ashera grabbed Mira, Mira grabbed Elora, and Elora grabbed Noth.

The ridiculous looking people chain narrowly escaped the collapsing Gemini Giant, who fell like a towering redwood to land face-first on the ground with a resounding impact that rattled Hal’s teeth.

Durvin stood on the thing’s back, his large axe planted firmly in the thing’s back. He tensed and coiled his thick stubby legs, trying – in vain it seemed – to pull the thing free. The whole while he let loose a stream of the most colorful cursing Hal ever heard. At least, he was pretty sure they were curses. With the way Aldim seemed to enforce its language filter, Hal couldn’t be sure.

Durvin defeats the [Gemini Giant | Lv. 40].

You gain 5,500 Experience Points.

You absorb 50 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 550 Sparks.

Your Ultimate is fully charged.

Taking a moment to catch his breath, Hal watched as Durvin spat into his hands and gripped the handle even harder. Just as he was about to free the thing by main force, the giant’s body shattered into a thousand pieces of glittering pale-blue crystals. Unlike other creatures, Hal noticed the crystals didn’t evaporate.

The crater off to the left was half-filled with countless crystals. Several dwarves had fallen in to the crater and were struggling to keep above the pool of crystals. Sturdy dwarves were linking arm-in-arm, forming long chains to reach down and pull up the surviving members.

Durvin, overbalanced from so fierce a tug when the giant vanished, fell onto his back and rolled a few times before popping back up to his feet with a bellow of, “Dagdamora!”

“Thank you, Durvin,” Hal said, coming forward to greet him properly.

The surly dwarf clasped hands with Hal, his grip more than strong enough to crush Hal’s bones but the older dwarf held his strength in check. “Ye saved some o’ me clan, boy. I ain’t to be forgettin’ that. Ye may have the frail body o’ a man,” he said, taking a step forward and reaching high to slap Hal soundly on the chest. “But ye got the heart o’ a dwarf. So’s I say.”

Hal took the compliment in stride, though he noted with more than a little embarrassment that Durvin’s slap took off a point of HP.

Elora came up alongside Hal, “You still need the area cleared?”

Releasing Durvin’s grip, he turned to look southward. Even larger monsters loomed in the field, elephant-like creatures three stories tall and with six limbs pounded toward them.

“Yeah.”

The Manastorm was getting worse. It wasn’t breaking or moving. It sat right on top of them, gathering strength, and all the while it whittled down their defenses.

Hal wasn’t sure how much longer any of them could keep fighting. And if the Manashields failed…. He shook his head. There was no use in thinking about it.

Durvin followed his gaze. “Ye daft boy if ye thinkin’ o’ goin in there!”

“Do you see the Manastorm letting up?” Hal asked him.

The bronze-bearded dwarf tugged on his still-too-short beard and grumbled but did not raise any further objections.

That was all the confirmation Hal needed that this Manastorm was not acting normal.

“We’re going with you,” Mira said, coming up to Hal. “Don’t think we’re letting you rush off on your own again.”

Looking into the eyes of each of his friends, he saw the same determination there that he saw in Mira’s. He sighed, opened his mouth to argue, and then stopped. “If any of you can enter the Manastorm without hurting yourself, you are free to join me.”

They moved to the southern edge of the Manashield, Durvin followed but when Hal cast a look his way he shook his head. “Don’t be lookin’ at me, boy. I ain’t a beardless child lookin’ to test his mettle against the likes o’ that.” He pointed at the raging storm outside the dome and the towering creatures it spawned. “Me duties to the safety o’ me clan, and o’ yers.”

Hal couldn’t help but hear the slight timbre of trepidation in the normally stalwart dwarf’s voice. He didn’t blame them. Seeing a Manastorm up close was terrifying and this was the only one he’d ever witnessed.

He couldn’t imagine what it would be like to live in a world where these things were a known natural disaster. No hurricane, tornado, tsunami, or earthquake could compare to a storm that could spawn hulking behemoths the size of small houses.

Each of them stuck an arm out into the miasmatic air beyond the protective shielding of the Manashield. Motes of dark violet gathered like locusts on each of their hands. Hal felt the stinging bite like a thousand tiny needles but it was bearable.

The faces that he looked into were those of four people refusing to accept the truth. There was no hiding that only Hal’s HP was staying the same. Each of theirs was dropping, though Hal noticed they were not falling at the same rate.

Noth’s HP fell the slowest among them, then Ashera’s, followed by Mira and then Elora who took her hand back with a cry of pain and cradled it against her breast.

The look she gave Hal with her blue-gray eyes was one filled with failure, anger, and worry. “I can still go with you,” she said through a grimace of pain.

“If you let her go, then all of us can go,” Noth said, removing her hand.

“No,” Ashera said. “It hardly affects him. I lost 5 HP just from my hand being out. I do not want to think about what would happen if my entire body was out there.

“Can you make the shot, Elora?” Hal asked.

“Easily, though it won’t stay clear for long,” she warned.

“If we each aim our Ultimates that way – those of us that can do them at range at least – we should clear a decent group of them out,” Mira said, flexing her sore hand. “Those little buggers sting.”

Hal tightened his grip on [Brilliance] and flexed the bone-limbs on his back. “Just give me all the time you can.”

32

“I’ll use my Ultimate on the way back,” Mira said.

Hal looked at her skeptically. “What do you mean, ‘on the way back’?”

The elf shrugged her narrow shoulders. “I’ll get you there faster than anybody else can, yourself included. I’ve got two scales left, I can use Dragonsoar twice more.” Mira winked at Hal. “One more flight, what do ya say boss?”

Hal wanted to object. But she was right. It was a long way away and the longer he was out in the Manastorm the more danger it posed to him. While he felt confident the Caustic Air of the Manastorm wouldn’t hurt him, the blood-red lightning was another story.

“Promise me you’ll get out as fast as you possibly can,” Hal said, grabbing her shoulder. “You won’t wait for me.”

Mira tried to scoff and roll her eyes but Hal could see how insincere she was being. He shook her shoulder lightly. “I mean it, Mira. Don’t screw around,” Hal said somberly.

“Fine, I won’t dawdle,” she answered. “I promise.”

Elora fell to one knee, testing the draw of her bow. “Ready whenever you are, Hal.”

Ashera took out three purple vials and handed them to Hal. “Take these Elixirs. We need you back in one piece, remember that.” Dismissing his [Chain of Binding], Hal took them from her. Ashera’s hand lingered on his, her eyes intensely locked with his. “Do not die.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Hal said. He turned to the Wildsmaster. “Clear me a path, Elora.”

“You might want to look away,” she said, drawing her bow back to full draw. Lines of golden light began to collect in the air around her, dancing motes of light that streamed into her. A brilliant golden arrow of light began to form and just as the air started to crackle with unstable energy, Elora loosed the arrow.

It doubled in size, then tripled, and still, it grew. The arrow widened exponentially, digging a thirty-foot-wide trench in the crystalline ground and evaporating any creature too dumb, or too slow to get out of the way.

Elora readies Ultimate: Empyreal Arrow.

Elora uses Ultimate: Empyreal Arrow.

The [Lurking Horror| Lv. 44] takes 3,331 points of damage.

The [Windflayer Husk | Lv. 43] takes 3,404 points of damage.

The [Crystal Gorefiend | Lv. 45] takes 3,215 points of damage.

…

Flooded by the countless prompts of wounded and dead monsters, Hal extended his free hand to Mira. The Dragoon crouched, and then surged through the air at a sharp angle right over the trench of broken and dead bodies out in the Manastorm.

Mira’s Dragonsoar was unlike anything thing Hal ever experienced. She launched herself into the sky like a rocket. Rather than play by the typical rules of physics, she managed to hang in the air far longer than should be possible.

Once the initial burst of speed wore off she coasted through the air in the direction she originally jumped. Not that she was forced to. Hal had been a partner to many inertia-defying shifts when the lanky elf suddenly switched direction mid-air.

Not so this time, Mira threw out all finesse for raw speed and distance.

Mira hissed in pain as the Caustic Air assaulted her. Motes of deep violet clung to each of them, stinging and biting. One of the two remaining azure scales next to Mira’s stats shivered and fell away leaving her with a final scale for the return trip.

Hal felt a tug on his foot and his grip on Mira slipped as a crystalline chain snared his ankle. A powerful yank pulled him down to the trench below, less than halfway to the distortion so clearly visible ahead.

A lanky creature pulled on the crystalline chain, hand over hand, its single blue crystal eye intent on Hal. So intent that it didn’t see Mira drop out of the sky and impale her halberd’s tip in the thing’s skull.

Mira uses Falling Spear.

Savage Critical!

The [Crystalline Hunter | Lv. 38] takes 785 points of damage.

Mira defeats the [Crystalline Hunter | Lv. 38].

You gain 1,500 Experience Points.

You absorb 20 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 150 Sparks.

Hal thumped to the ground with a painful jolt. The creature vanished in a spray of shards and before Hal could even get to his feet, Mira grabbed him by the collar of his jacket.

“No-” Hal began, seeing what Mira was about to do.

The Dragoon, using her last azure scale, used Dragonsoar one final time and shot back up into the air. She angled them at a steeper angle, the wind rushed past them stinging Hal’s eyes even as the violet motes of the Caustic Air clung to them.

“You promised!” Hal bellowed up at Mira, feeling like a child the way Mira was holding him. They landed a moment later, right in front of the twisting distortion.

Mira shrugged. “I said I wouldn’t dawdle.” She let go and pat Hal on the back. “I never said I would leave you out in the middle of this hellish place to run back. I’ll be fine, Hal. Go put an end to this.”

Without another word, Mira sprinted back to the north along the curved trench now filling with monsters getting to their feet. Creatures that not even an Ultimate was able to fell.

Hal steeled himself and turned away from Mira. She still has her Ultimate, he reminded himself. Reaching out his hand to the twisting mirage, Hal felt the overwhelming rage begin to consume him once more.

There was something within him that was at odds with the Manastorm. Whether it was the Beast, or something else, he couldn’t be sure. All he knew was the blinding rage that bubbled up in his chest as he pressed his hand to the thick gelatin that was the distortion.

His hand dove in with little resistance and the Manastorm ceased its raging. The world was bathed in purifying white light.

The Squallheart

Your Exploration has risen to Level 5.

+10% Faster drawing speed (+50%).

+3% Discoverable range (+15%).

When Hal’s vision returned, he stood on a crystalline platform thirty feet across, its edges rough and cubic with crystal growths. Below, he could just make out the long trench and the glow of the clustered Manashields surrounding the caravan’s wagons.

Hal immediately stepped away from the edge, realizing how many hundreds of feet in the sky he must be. The last thing he wanted was to fall from such a height.

All around the platform among the prismatic clouds were windows that looked upon other areas. Deserts, islands, swamps, snowswept mountains, dozens of different locations were shown through those windows. And in each, a Manastorm raged and played out its fury.

The desert blew with a hot, searing wind that sparkled with embers. What few plants existed were shriveled and rather than turn to ash, the hot winds created new piles of sand.

The water surrounding the islands receded then crashed in towering waves hundreds of feet high far inland. One island was utterly swept away from the flood of seawater but in the distance, another island rose from beneath the roiling sea. The motif of destruction to foster creation was evident within each Manastorm.

Throughout it all, monstrous creatures ravaged the constantly changing landscapes.

Shifting clouds roiled around him, changing through every color of the rainbow. One of the clouds drifted onto the arena – there was no other way he could think of the disc he stood upon – and began to take shape.

A thousand different faces appeared on as many different bodies. Great gargantuan monstrosities, lean lithe fairy-like creatures, and everything in between showed itself to Hal.

Seeing what was coming, Hal used Assimilation to tap into the last of his Stamina and use that to recover his MP. Then he took out a [Stamina Potion] he swiped from the wagon before all this went down and chugged it so he wouldn’t be left winded before the fight even started.

You use Assimilation.

You recover 280 MP.

You use [Stamina Potion].

You recover 250 SP.

Toxicity +25

The 3 [Elixirs] would be his emergency reserve. They were strong enough that they should be able to recover most, if not all, of both his MP and HP. With his Strain only two casts of Divebomb away from losing control, Hal needed to hold onto any advantages he had.

Sooner than he would like, he’d need to use both Empty Vessel and Clear Mind. The latter had a hefty cost of a third of his HP, MP, and SP to reset his Strain to 0.

You need me, Besal said again. Release me and I will make short work of this abomination.

Why would I believe you? Hal asked. As soon as I lose control you’ll take my body for your own.

Besal’s guttural growl rang clear in Hal’s head. This thing offends me. It is a defilement.

Hal snorted in response, clearly noting that Besal said nothing about not taking over Hal’s body once he was done with the monster before them.

Besides, Hal needed to be apart from the Beast. He was a tool to use, not a crutch to lean on whenever things got hard.

Hal was all for using a proper amount of risk but if he didn’t show Besal – and most importantly, himself – that he could take care of this on his own, he felt as if he would never be able to grow on his own.

This is something I must do on my own, he said as much to Besal as to himself. Steeling his nerves for the coming fight, Hal watched as the shifting creature before him finally settled on a form.

A towering brute thirty feet high and more than half that as wide. His skin was dark as rich soil. His massive limbs ended in three thick digits. The creature’s legs were nearly as wide as Hal.

It had no neck to speak of, just bulging rocky muscle and a thick Cromagnon brow over a set of burning red and purple eyes. The creature opened its mouth and let loose a guttural roar.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] uses Intimidating Shout.

Stalwart Soul Activation!

You resist the effects of Intimidating Shout.

Hal dropped his left hand, wrapped in the [Chain of Binding], to the glossy arena floor and cast Bloodrake. Spiked spectral chains dove and leaped through the air like dolphins in the ocean, crisscrossing the large rocky creature with chains whose links were as wide as Hal’s arm.

The Manakeeper struggled against them but they held him tight, biting deeply into the thing’s craggy skin. Thin lines of purple ichor leaked from the wounds. He only hoped it would hold him long enough for Hal to trigger his opening salvo.

He had to hit it with everything he had before the monster had a chance to retaliate. Even as Bloodrake tightened across the rocky body, a few of the links began to strain and squeal with the monstrous strength being leveraged against them.

It was already breaking out.

Hal cast Divebomb, placing himself incredibly close to the edge of no return. He could feel it there, calling to him like a siren song. Besal did not need to convince him. The power was there for Hal to take, if only he would reach out and grab it.

One more cast of Divebomb and he would cross that threshold. At 44 Strain, he was only 6 points away from a power that dwarfed his own. Like an addiction, it made him crave that strength like a drug.

Shoving the thoughts aside, he focused his mind. He would not give in.

You cast Bloodrake.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] is bound.

Additional Effect: Bleed, Shatter (-15% MDEF).

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 63 points of bleed damage (Bloodrake).

You cast Divebomb.

Synergy Triggered!

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 517 points of damage.

You use Empty Vessel.

Strain reset to 0.

Your Strain Affliction fades.

33

While the Manakeeper was still chained, Hal unleashed everything he had at the thing. He bottomed out his MP casting Divebomb back to back, used Assimilation to pull from his HP into his MP, and continued to cast.

It was his strongest ranged spell, and as much as he would have loved to use Goblin Rush, it lacked sufficient range to keep him away from the Manakeeper’s massive reach.

All the while the Manakeeper struggled against its bonds, tearing jagged rents in its stony skin. Purple and red light peeked out from those wounds, bathing the arena in a strange kaleidoscope of color.

The shifting colors of the clouds swirling around the 30-foot wide disk of crystal threw shimmering colors across the glassy surface that mixed and mingled in strange, disorienting patterns.

He swiped away his notifications, as the constant stream of his attacks began to get distracting with the shifting patterns displaying across the floor at the same time. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his party gray out but he had no time to worry about it.

It wasn’t like anybody would be able to come to his aid now. The distortion had closed up, leaving nothing but empty space behind.

Hal managed several more casts of Divebomb until his MP bottomed out once more. Without missing a beat, Hal cracked open and drank the [Elixir] Ashera gave him to restore both his MP and HP.

He couldn’t get enough breath in his lungs as he struggled against creating so much Strain so quickly. It wreaked havoc on him, to the point that he couldn’t continue his casting even though he knew time was running out.

Never before had he pressed himself so hard. He was already at Affliction Level 2 and the burden of reaching it so quickly threatened to tear him in half.

He was about to resume his assault when the Manakeeper broke free of its bonds. With a speed that belied its hulking frame, the Manakeeper covered the ground between them and batted Hal aside before he could get another cast off.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] hits you for 67 points of damage.

Thrown from the impact, Hal struggled to right himself. The Manakeeper turned on a dime and charged at him again before Hal ever hit the ground. Lashing out with the [Chain of Binding], Hal enacted its enchantment. Tethered to the glassy floor, Hal tugged with all his might, putting every ounce of his Convergence empowered muscles into the effort.

The Manakeeper clipped him, sending Hal spinning through the air even as he released the chain’s hold on the ground. Dizzy and disoriented, Hal crashed to the ground in a slump, trying in vain to get his bearings.

The ground shook and rumbled with the Manakeeper’s quick turn.

You need me, Besal reiterated. Throw off these shackles and let me fell this beast!

No, Hal replied again, struggling to his feet. With no time to dodge aside, he raised [Brilliance] in a defensive block, his black skeletal appendages poised in front of him in defense.

The Manakeeper barreled through his meager block and threw Hal aside with the force of its charge.

Several of Hal’s bone appendages shattered from the impact but they slowed down the brute enough to soften the blow that had him sliding on his back across the slick arena floor.

With a snap of his Convergence empowered muscles, Hal flipped up to his feet and resummoned his black skeletal appendages. He was down to 425 HP with only a few hits taken. And the Manakeeper was already charging at him again, leaving puddles of ichorous fluid behind as its wounds continued to bleed.

Hal fell to one knee, slapping his chain-wrapped palm to the floor and conjured Bloodrake once more. The spectral chains looped across the creature’s path, the first barbed chains broke but they slowed the creature enough for the next pair to ensnare him fully.

The Manakeeper crashed to the floor, the impact rattling Hal’s teeth as he reached inside himself. Bloodrake’s chains weren’t as strong as Enchainment’s but they held after being hit. Even with their weaker hold, they would last long enough and with any luck after the use of his Ultimate.

Even as Hal brought forth the echoes he now understood to be alternate versions of himself, the Manakeeper broke free of its binding chains. What damage it sustained in the struggle seemed minor indeed compared to the savage beating Hal was about to get if his Ultimate didn’t go off in time.

As the Manakeeper rose to its feet and gained momentum, it charged at him like a freight train. Hal held his nerve though he wanted nothing more than to dive aside, doing so would waste his Ultimate now that he was in throes of channeling it.

You cast Bloodrake.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 68 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Bleed, Bind, Shatter (-15% MDEF).

You ready Ultimate: Echoes of the Damned.

The [Manakeeper’s | Lv.??] bind effect wears off.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 55 points of bleed damage (Bloodrake).

You use Ultimate: Echoes of the Damned.

Shadowy versions of Hal sprang forth from the air. One of them cracked a massive two-handed axe into the Manakeeper’s ankle with so much force that the creature staggered and toppled. It sounded like the world was breaking apart.

Individually, each of his echoes was weak. Stronger than him, but not nearly on the same level as many other attacks. All 37 echoes charged the downed creature, hacking it apart, sending shadowy bolts of magic into it, and one Hal recognized carried a familiar sword and shield.

Even half-formed and shadowy, Hal recognized Thirty-seven, the Paladin among the darker more sinister variations. Hal wasn’t sure if it was really Thirty-seven or merely some essence of the man, but he gave the shadow a nod all the same.

Weirdly enough, it returned it with a salute of his echoed [Brilliance]. Given a breather, Hal once more fell into casting Divebomb. Hal could feel the approach of his Strain limit like the cold breath of death itself on the nape of his neck. In complete opposition to the addictive rush of reaching toward it. Once he dumped his Strain this last time, there would be no more. He would have to manage it properly from here on out.

Since you persist in your foolish endeavor, at least allow me to share some of my strength with you, Besal said. Take it as a gesture of goodwill.

Besal grants you the effect of First Verse.

Beast Magic Damage +35% | MP Cost -35%

You cast Divebomb.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 815 points of damage.

You cast Divebomb.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 802 points of damage.

Yes, Besal urged. You can feel how strong we could be combined. Use my power, release me and we will wipe the floor with this pitiful excuse for an Eldritch Creation!

I will not, Hal barely managed to reply. He was only a few points from passing beyond into Strain Affliction Level 3, where he would lose control. He would be undeniably powerful but it would no longer be Hal. It would be Besal controlling him.

It was a thought he kept repeating in his head. Using it to build a wall of denial to block out the intoxicating effects of Besal’s buff, First Verse. With a growl of defiance, Hal triggered Clear Mind.

His Strain dropped to 0, but he lost a third of his HP, MP, and SP in one go. The sudden agony of it and the withdrawal of the addictive properties of Strain made Hal doubled over and nearly vomit.

He fell to his knees even as his echoes were beginning to wink out of existence with explosive shadowy bursts of magic. One final devastating attack each, as a parting gift to the Manakeeper.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] suffers 3,450 points of damage from Echoes of the Damned.

You use Clear Mind.

Your Strain is reset to 0.

You suffer the affliction of Strain Shock.

Beast Magic is not a toy. It is not a cheap parlor trick to be toyed with and brought out for the amusement of others, only to be stuffed back into a box when you are done. You have gained too much Strain in too short a time. No mortal body was meant to suffer the stress of so much otherworldly power.

Strain Inflicts 1% HP loss per point

All Beast Magic MP Cost Doubled.

Feather Barrier wears off.

Struggling for air that wouldn’t fill his lungs once again, Hal barely read the words of the devastating prompt. I guess it was too good to be true, pushing myself so hard, he thought.

You have doomed us, Besal said, a note of sorrow in his usually reserved voice. I thought you had potential.

Hal managed to get to his shaking feet at the same time as the Manakeeper. Neither of them looked like they were doing very well. Hal summoned the last [Elixir] and popped it open, recovering his MP and HP.

You use [Elixir].

You recover full HP.

You recover full MP.

Toxicity +200.

His physical pains were soothed, but the soul-deep ache of Strain Shock persisted.

The Manakeeper stomped its feet, widening its stance and shutting its glowing purple and red eyes. Hal braced himself, readying himself to spring aside at a moment’s notice. Because that’s likely all he would have.

There were no Premonition triggers so far with this thing. It moved too fast and seemed to single Hal out with attacks lacking any finesse. Or so he thought.

A glowing purple jewel appeared on the creature’s chest, letting out an ominous light. Hal had a bad feeling about it even before the edges of the arena began to shimmer with the orange-gold light of his Premonition.

Why did I have to go jinxing everything by thinking there would be no Premonition warnings?

Waves of swirling mana ribbons flooded out of the jewel on the Manakeeper’s chest. The edge of the arena cracked and shattered. A pool of shimmering light appeared beneath Hal and he took off running just in time for the burst of ruby light to miss him.

“I know a weak spot when I see it,” Hal muttered, gaining speed and using his Convergence powered legs to leap at the Manakeeper’s exposed jewel.

He cast Divebomb at the thing, and was in the midst of casting a second time when he saw the futility of it. As the avian phantasm neared the exposed purple jewel, a ribbon of mana touched Hal’s magic and disintegrated it on contact.

You cast Divebomb.

Your Strain Shock afflicts you for 25 points of damage.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] is immune.

Your Patient Offense effect wears off.

“You florking bench, how are you immune?” Hal shouted.

34

Hal was out 130 MP for the effort, his Divebomb had dealt no damage, and he was hurt by casting it. It was a costly lesson to learn that the Manakeeper was suddenly immune to magic. But one he wasn’t about to waste.

Still sailing through the air, Hal whipped out with the [Chain of Binding] and enacted its binding magic to hold fast to the Manakeeper’s bulky body. He pulled the chain tight as he neared the Manakeeper and angled his body so his feet would straddle the glowing purple jewel on its chest.

He plunged down with [Brilliance], stabbing the blade deep into the thing’s jeweled heart, sending a shivering crack down its pristine purple surface.

Savage Critical!

You hit the [Manaheart | Lv.??] for 490 points of damage.

The [Manaheart | Lv.??] cracks!

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] uses Weight of a Whisper.

The handle of [Brilliance] vibrated so fiercely that Hal’s hand started to go numb. Keeping the chain taut, Hal pushed against the Manakeeper’s chest with all his might as he tried to pull [Brilliance] free.

A bright ruby light enveloped Hal and he was forced to abandon [Brilliance]. He released the chain’s hold and kicked off, taking a glancing blow of the ruby light as it seared his legs with agony.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] uses Conceited Upheaval.

You take 76 points of damage.

Hal’s blackened skeletal appendages caught him and righted him before he could get his legs to work right below him.

The crack along the Manaheart grew and widened. It spread across the Manakeeper, whose body looked far worse for wear after his Ultimate. Inner purple light gleamed from deep fissures and cracks in the thing’s dark rocky skin. It looked down at the hilt still sticking out of its heart and grasped it between two fingers like it was pulling out a large splinter.

“No….” Hal kicked off and sprinted toward the Manakeeper but he already knew he would be too late.

The Manakeeper looked at Hal with understanding. It grinned and ripped [Brilliance] from its heart despite the obvious pain it caused. A bright spray of light erupted from the Manaheart’s cracked surface.

Despite the pain, the Manakeeper brought [Brilliance] down over its raised knee and snapped the blade in half. A blinding flash of light was released from the destruction of the blade and the Manakeeper wailed with fury, tossing the halves of the ruined blade aside.

It stomped around the arena, utterly blind. Too far to do anything, but also out of range of the blinding blast of light, Hal ran on. His eyes were fixed with malicious intent on the leaking Manaheart.

The irony that he had never been able to get the stupid enchantment to work right, but that the Manakeeper had when it destroyed the weapon wasn’t lost on him.

Let’s hope this works, Hal thought. He never before tried to use Blades of Bone, he was always busy with one thing or another, and as much as he wanted to experiment he simply didn’t have enough hours in the day.

Now he found himself without a weapon, against an enemy immune to his now very costly magic.

Hal brought to mind the image of a falchion, slightly curved and single-edged with a wicked tip. An intense itching sensation filled his palm as he funneled his mana into the arm, creating a sharpened blade of bone.

You use Blades of Bone.

You create a Bone Falchion +2.

MP -300.

Good thing I can’t make much use out of my MP!

That was far more expensive than he thought it would be. At least he had a weapon now. The grip was perfectly molded to his hand and despite being made of bone, it was blackened with red-veined streaks running throughout it.

It was not pretty, but it was functional. That’s what mattered. Hal looked at the still-wet gleaming surface of the blade and suppressed a shudder.

The blade looked more than serviceable. Hal launched himself over another shimmering Premonition warning, dodging a pillar of Conceited Upheaval in the process. His bone appendages caught him and helped him get to his feet to keep running.

Springing over the wayward swipe of the Manakeeper’s blind fury, Hal slashed with all his might at the Manaheart. Patient Offense was triggered from the two dodges and released an additional blast of force, creating a second accompanying fissure in the jewel. The light leaked out even faster, draining the Manaheart of color.

Hal landed lightly, quick-stepped to the side to avoid an errant kick, then leaped again with an overhand chop, shattering the Manaheart and triggering an explosion that blew him back and sent his [Bone Falchion] from his suddenly numb fingers.

Savage Critical!

You hit the [Manaheart | Lv.??] for 385 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Manableed.

Patient Offense wears off.

Savage Critical!

You hit the [Manaheart | Lv.??] for 403 points of damage.

Patient Offense wears off.

The [Manaheart| Lv.??] is destroyed.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] uses Weight of Will.

You suffer 127 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Paralysis.

Hal landed hard on his back, his head smacking against the floor and bouncing for another painful impact. He couldn’t move, could barely breathe for the pain and sudden loss of muscle control.

The only saving grace was that the Manakeeper was still blinded, swinging its large arms around as it tired itself out. Each swipe of its lumbering arms was overbalanced and ungainly. Hal could do nothing as it stomped around, trying to hit an enemy it could not see.

Unleashing all of those blinding enchantments at once must have been devastating for the affliction to last so long. It was the only reason Hal wasn’t already ground into a paste.

As the feeling slowly returned to his limbs Hal forced himself to sit up. His arms laid limp at his sides. He looked around for his [Bone Falchion] and found it quickly enough. It landed a few feet to his right and behind him.

Once his paralysis wore off entirely, Hal scrambled to his feet and retrieved the blade. He noted a long dark crack along the flat of the blade. Blades of Bone may service in a pinch but he guessed making a weapon so hastily did have its drawbacks.

The Manakeeper continually expended every ounce of its strength fighting an enemy it could neither see nor sense.

Ribbons of mana streamed out of its broken and lightless Manaheart and Hal focused on that as the creature’s remaining weakness. Pillars of ruby light erupted around him as Hal relied heavily on his Premonition to see the attacks before they hit him.

All the while building up stacks of Patient Offense for the final blow.

Unfortunately, whipped into a frenzy, the Manakeeper was devastatingly unpredictable. Even as Hal dodged one of its Conceited Upheavals, a swinging fist connected with his whole body and sent him flying across the arena. Wiping all of his Patient Offense in one sweeping blow.

A Premonition of golden light around the outer edge of the arena informed Hal of another attack that would shrink the arena further. Hal hit the ground hard and used the momentum to roll away from the edge, crawling free of the collapsing floor.

Another ring of light appeared as the Manakeeper stomped its foot with a resounding impact. Smart, Hal thought. He’s shrinking the arena, so it doesn’t matter if he’s blinded. As the ring gets smaller and smaller, anywhere the Manakeeper attacks is likely to hit me.

But only if the Manakeeper lived long enough to cut the arena down to size.

Hal lurched forward, using his spidery bone appendages to propel him forward. He lashed forward with the [Chain of Binding], using its enchantment combined with a Convergence empowered tug to propel him toward the Manaheart.

Releasing the enchantment, Hal gripped the [Bone Falchion] with both hands and flexed every muscle as hard as he could to bend his body back away from the sideways swing that narrowly missed breaking his nose and his entire face.

Calling Convergence to flood into his muscles, Hal snapped himself forward with everything he had, impaling the [Bone Falchion] up to the hilt in the now-dead Manaheart.

The Manakeeper roared with fury and agony.

A fist came from the side, slugging Hal in the ribs. He could hear a few of them crack like somebody stepping on stalks of celery.

The breath blasted from his lungs but still, he held on. Pushing through the pain, Hal focused on his Blade of Bone. Could he alter the blade while he was in contact with it?

Savage Critical!

You hit the [Manakeeper | Lv.??] for 377 points of damage.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] hits you for 107 points of damage.

You use Blades of Bone.

MP -80.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 400 points of damage.

The [Manakeeper | Lv.??] takes 442 points of damage.

Hal shut out the pain with a scream of defiance even as another heavy body-sized fist slugged him from the other side. Fortunately, the Manakeeper couldn’t bring its full strength to bear due to the angle it would have to hit Hal at.

That didn’t stop it from trying.

Focusing on Blades of Bone, Hal lengthened and splintered the blade within the Manaheart. He widened the cracks, wrenching them apart, and sent bony tendrils into every crack that they could find.

Throughout it all the Manakeeper continued to stomp around, sending fissures and cracks around the edge of the arena, dropping the outer-most sections onto the distant battle below.

The hits kept coming, but Hal couldn’t let go of the sword, it was stuck inside the Manakeeper now and one glance over his shoulder told him that there wasn’t much of an arena left for him to stand on.

His best chance was finishing this before the Manakeeper dropped them both into the swirling clouds below.

Using Assimilation, Hal drained every ounce of his Stamina, converting it into HP and MP to continue to widen the cracks within the Manaheart and to shore up his rapidly depleting HP.

Hal kept an eye on his HP, watching it fall steadily south of 100. Each hit came slower and with less impact behind it until they stopped coming altogether. Hal opened his eyes, feeling the world shift and tilt around him.

The Manakeeper fell backward to the small arena with a resounding crash. The platform was barely large enough for its body. It didn’t move again. Hal collapsed atop the downed Manakeepr, fighting to stay conscious.

35

Wheezing, Hal couldn’t help but smile even as it became clear he might be in some serious trouble if he didn’t do something about that collapsed lung that was making it hard to breathe.

A moment later, the body of the Manakeeper shattered into disparate chunks of yellow-blue shifting crystal. It was a hard bed to fall upon and Hal shifted about to bring up the last [Elixir] from his Inventory and to his lips.

He paused a moment and instead tried to allocate the glut of EXP he’d gotten so far. It should be enough to Level Up… but he couldn’t. Was the arena still considered “in combat” somehow?

With a rueful shake of his head, Hal downed the [Elixir] without another option to heal his broken body.

The fruity mixture repaired his shattered ribs and his breathing came easier after he coughed up more than a little old blood remaining in his lung. He hadn’t thought it was punctured….

A sweeping, numbing sensation fell upon him like he was just dunked in freezing cold water. The shock to his system made it impossible to do anything but lie there on the painfully jagged crystals littering the ground.

It only took him a moment of wondering until the prompt appeared, reminding him how much of a mistake it was to down another [Elixir] so soon after the previous one.

You use an [Elixir].

Toxicity +200

You recover full HP.

You recover full MP.

You are afflicted with Elixir Toxication (Stage 1).

HP & MP Restoration Nullified.

Duration: 50hrs.

The numbing sensation faded and Hal took a moment to read the message again, cursing himself for not paying closer attention to Toxicity. He knew it might be an issue and in the moment of pain drank the [Elixir] anyway.

He didn’t have long to kick himself over it. A series of distracting prompts pulled his attention from his mistake.

You defeat the [Manakeeper | Lv.??].

You gain 10,500 Experience Points.

You absorb 125 Eldritch Essence.

You earn 10,500 Sparks.

You earn the Title: Squallbreaker.

+10% Manastorm Loot | +40% Crystalline Manastorm Loot

Manastorm Enmity +120%

You obtain:

- [Crystal Manashard]
- 100 [Empyreal Shardite]
- [Heart of Crystal]

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 6.

+3% Manatree Spell Potency (+18%).

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 16.

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 17.

+1% Sword damage (+17%).

-0.25% Sword durability loss (-4.25%).

Your Improvised Weaponry Skill has risen to Level 16.

+2% Improvised Weapon damage (+32%).

+2% Improvised Weapon attack speed (+32%).

Your Enfeebling Skill has risen to Level 15.

…

Your Enfeebling Skill has risen to Level 18.

+1% Enfeebling success (+18%).

+2% Enfeebling duration (+36%).

+5% Enfeebling magic resistance (+15%).

Your Evasion Skill has risen to Level 14.

+1% Evasion speed (+14%).

-1% Stamina cost (-14%).

Your Parry Skill has risen to Level 8.

+1% Parry success (+8%).

-1% Stamina cost (-8%).

Your Beast Magic Skill has risen to Level 18.

…

Your Beast Magic Skill has risen to Level 23.

+3% Beast Magic Spell potency (+69%).

-2% Beast Magic MP cost (-8%).

You have 1 Beast Magic Perk point awaiting assignment.

Monster Attunements Available

Eldritch: 2

Hal slowly rose to his feet. The shifting crystalline fragments of the Manakeeper’s body shimmered and vanished into his Inventory. He swayed momentarily, thinking that there was some other toxic effect from the [Elixir] he had taken.

He tried again to commit enough EXP to push Beastborne to Level 18, and though he felt the usual thrill of a Level Up… it did nothing to remove the toxication status.

Oh shirt. So there was a delay after combat ended. Not only that, but Leveling Up hadn’t wiped the toxic effect.

After a few more moments, he realized the truth.

Cracks spiderwebbed between his feet on the glassy floor beneath him. They spread out in a rapid series of loud pops. Even through the haze of the Elixir Toxication, he understood the danger he was in.

Hal turned about, quickly searching for that twisting distortion that brought him to the arena in the first place. He found it quickly enough, just as the floor beneath him cracked and gave way. Well before he could gather enough strength to his legs to make the leap toward it.

The distortion hung in the air above him as he fell, in the same spot where it had spat him out and then disappeared. The only problem was, the Manakeeper shrank the arena so much that it was barely 8 feet wide by the end.

Air rushing past, Hal twisted about in a desperate attempt to right himself. With arms and legs spread as much as possible to slow his fall, he managed to face the ground.

It was rushing up at him far too fast. Fear wormed its way into his thoughts and he spent precious seconds fighting it back to the dark corners it crawled out from.

He had to think clearly. Without his party, he couldn’t call for help. Not that he knew what they could do. He was falling hundreds of feet through the air. By the looks of things below, the battle was all but over.

It was a small comfort. Already the Manastorm clouds were dissipating, breaking to reveal the glittering stars and the shining axeblade edge of bandlight that cut the sky in two.

There was no need to go looking in his spells for something that could help him. He already knew there was nothing. An idea came to him then, as his exposed skin began to burn from the cold friction of the air whipping by him.

When he first gained his Beastborne powers, he had fallen in a similar way to this. Only, there were several large chunks of rock in that instance that he used to get to the cavern entrance in the wall.

There would be no such help in his current predicament. That hardly mattered because he remembered the gross – but hopefully effective – idea he had at the time. Utilizing aberration essence, he had the idea to make a parachute of thin membranous material to slow his fall.

No matter how he tried to describe it, he knew what it was. It was a flesh parachute.

Back then, he was just as likely to be crushed by falling debris as fall to his death but out in the open in the Mirrorlands the idea had serious merit.

Even as Hal shuddered at the very thought, he went to work calling upon his aberration and eldritch essence to create a thin sheet of aberrant membrane attached at his shoulder blades.

It was harder than he thought.

Several attempts came and went as the ground grew closer. By that time Hal could make out several figures pointing in his direction. Great, I’m going to have an audience.

Using eldritch to empower the flesh with red mist, the next large sheet he made caught the air behind him and bellied out to full sail. Even as the material began to rip he worked hard on repairing it.

Striking the correct balance between lightweight yet sturdy was difficult but he thought he finally had it. The feeling was deeply uncomfortable. But without a doubt, it saved his life.

Hal drifted through the sky, hardly able to believe that it worked and trying not to look up at the gross black membrane up above. He stole only one or two looks purely out of morbid curiosity – though he told himself it was to make sure it was structurally sound – and the bile that rose up in the back of his throat was his punishment.

It looked disturbingly similar to a blown up bubble of bubblegum, except black with red veins. Through it, he could just barely make out the night sky above.

The best Hal could do was lean one way or the other to encourage the parachute to veer in a large lazy circle as he slowly drifted to the ground.

Being up so high afforded him a better view than he ever thought he would see. Though much of the Mirrorlands was shrouded in the darkness of night, between the few moons and the bright silvery bandlight, Hal could just make out a few fantastic shapes in the gloom.

Tall twisted majestic spires, sprawling forests immortalized in crystal, and flat shimmering plains dotted the landscape. Dark pits, deadly cracks in the hardened, crystallized land promised a swift end to the unwary traveler.

From so high above, Hal’s Perception picked out multiple things, illuminating them in a dull glow. To the west of the caravan was a meandering crystalline forest, and at its center glowed a tall half-broken structure that looked a lot like an ancient guard tower.

To the north and east was the direction to the Manaseed. From his vantage point, Hal could make out several viable paths that would avoid the dark pits and cracks of the Mirrorlands.

Most importantly, and perhaps troubling of all, was the presence of a dull glow far to the south at the edge of his vision. He thought it might be a campsite but he couldn’t be sure.

The crystalline outcroppings of the Mirrorlands often glowed or cast strange lights but for some reason, Hal felt certain it was a camp. And one that would have been impossible to see without his sky-high perspective. The light came from a dip in the land that would hide them from even Angram’s keen eyes.

Your Perception has risen to Level 18.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+36%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+90%).

+10% Danger sense (+30%).

Your Exploration has risen to Level 6.

+10% Faster Map Drawing (+60%).

+3% Discoverable range (+18%).

Your Darkvision has risen to Level 6.

+2% Visual range in dim light (+12%).

+1% Visual range in no light (+6%).

With those markers in mind, Hal eventually touched down. He expected it to be a soft, feathery landing. As soon as his foot touched the hard ground, the shock of the landing after dangling for so long surprised him.

His knee buckled and he went into a forward tumble, scraping and bruising himself and getting wrapped up in the cocoon of thin flesh. Feeling the warm, pulsating skin against his cheek, he let out a thoroughly disgusted and terrified scream.

Unfortunately for Hal and his injured pride, he could tell several people were rushing up to him by the sounds of their footsteps. Before he could begin to extricate himself from the cocoon, he was cut free like some newborn baby.

Thankfully it was only his friends, but the looks on each of their faces spoke volumes.

I’m never going to live this down.

Just as Hal thought he was doing well to inspire faith in his leadership and ability to command, something like this happened. It was the ultimate humbling experience and the cherry on top was when Komachi slithered out of Elora’s arms and came to investigate.

In the dim bandlight, Hal could just make out the pobul’s fur turning a deep, nauseous shade of green. She scrunched up her little otter face at him, then looked at the wrinkled skin piled on the ground around him.

And she puked all over his feet.

Terrific.

36

Thoroughly embarrassed and feeling more than a little weak, Hal had the presence of mind to dismiss his essence as Ashera and Mira helped him back to the caravan. He told them of what he saw up above and pulled out his [Explorer’s Map] to show them each point.

I need to make a habit of doing that again, under more controlled circumstances. His map was updated not only from the superior vantage point but also reflected those places his Perception had picked out.

Komachi groaned and rubbed her belly, casting baleful glances at Hal whenever she got the opportunity. At least she was no longer green.

It didn’t take them long to return to the caravan, hailed as heroes. In short order, the wagons were put back in their usual spots but tighter than usual to stay within the confines of the Manashields.

There was no shortage of volunteers that night for the watch. Few people were able to sleep after the events of the day. The camp was abuzz with everything that happened.

Hal spotted dozens of dwarves with wheelbarrows and shovels, scooping up the haul of crystals left behind by the shattered crystallized bodies of their fallen enemies.

Not until Hal was back in his wagon, cleaning off Komachi’s vomit from his shoe, did he realize how little falling from so high bothered him now.

All his life he was possessed of a fear of heights. Though the terror had crept back into his mind during the first few moments of the fall, it was manageable. He mastered the fear and shoved it back from whence it came.

A remarkable improvement, considering less than a month ago he would not have been able to think clearly enough to sort out a solution. Much less enact it in time.

The thought of change brought him back to the prompts upon the Manakeeper’s death. He had perk points and attunements to spend. Wiping off the last of Komachi’s rainbow-colored vomit, Hal went to clean his hands.

Elora, carrying a sleeping Komachi, entered with Angram close behind. One by one the wagon filled up once more. Hal’s head pounded dully behind his eyes as he splashed water onto his face from the small sink.

Ashera took one look at Hal and rushed over to him. She grabbed the sides of his face and yanked until his gaze met hers. “You are Toxicated,” she said.

Without another word, she rushed Hal over to his bunk, forced him to lie down, and began to order around those nearest the kitchen section of the wagon. Luda got up at once as did Angram, and together they helped Ashera to brew some tea under her guidance.

Hal tried to sit up but Ashera, exercising her superior strength, pushed him down with a single hand. “You do not understand,” she said, offering him the cup of hot tea. “Drink this.”

Figuring it couldn’t hurt to drink what smelled like peppermint tea, Hal brought the cup to his lips and sipped. There was a spicy, gingery flavor that accompanied it but it was good tea. Never one for herbal teas, Hal found himself liking this quite a lot.

You drink [Remedy Tea].

-10% Toxicity/hr.

-15% Strength.

-20% Dexterity.

A tremor shook Hal’s hand and Ashera took the cup from him. “Toxicity is not a joke, Hal. It can have long-lasting effects. What did it?”

“The Elixir,” Hal answered.

Ashera shook her head. “I was worried it might be too much.” She placed a hand on Hal’s shoulder. Rising, she handed him the cup again. “Small sips,” she instructed. “It should get rid of the effect soon. While you could probably tough it out, you will find that the effects linger long after the initial Toxication. They can linger for weeks, Hal. You must remember not to press yourself too hard.”

Taking away the cup, Hal started to reply but she raised a pale hand to forestall him. “I understand you may not have had much choice. I do not mean to lecture. I want to impress upon you the severity of Toxication, nothing more. You are well cared for now, and should suffer no lasting effects.”

With that, Ashera bid him goodnight and climbed up into her bunk. Luda pulled up a stool beside Hal’s bunk and sat next to it. When Hal looked at her she smiled softly at him, the freckles on her face seemed to catch the golden glow of the lamplight. “Do you mind the company?”

“No,” Hal said, shifting about to sit up in his bunk. “What’s up?”

Luda tilted her head to the side, a waterfall of wavy flame-colored hair spilled off to the side as she regarded him curiously. She cast a wary glance back at her attendants, getting ready to bed down for the night. They watched her but kept a respectful distance.

Dropping her voice, she asked, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

Her long billowing sleeves brushed Hal’s bunk as she motioned generally at him. “You nearly died, if what I hear is correct among the dwarves of the caravan. The koblins sing your praises even higher as some mystical savior that risks life and limb, always putting his valuable life on the line, for the sake of his friends and those he loves.”

That was hardly the way Hal saw it, but he didn’t see the point in arguing about it. “Your point?” he asked, instead.

“How do you do it?” she repeated. There was a fiery light in her bright blue eyes.

For a long moment, Hal sipped his tea and thought about what Luda was asking. It was clear to him that she wasn’t asking about the literal how. From what he knew of her, as an Oracle she was protected and coddled. Much as Elora, Ashera, and the Rangers had tried to do to him when he first arrived.

That was what she wanted to know. Luda wanted to know how he convinced those around him to risk his life. When that very life he risked belonged – technically – to more than just himself.

All he could do was shrug his shoulders and answer truthfully, “I didn’t give them much of an option.” He kept his voice low, so only Luda could hear. “I was very weak when I first came to Aldim. My life was considered more valuable than my ego and I was fiercely protected. But it became clear, largely through my own recklessness I’ll admit, that if I remained weak I could never stand on my own.”

Luda leaned back, fidgeting with her wide sleeves of moonlight silk. “Thank you.” It looked like she had something more to say but she just shook her head, bid Hal good night, and went to her bunk.

Setting his cup on the stool Luda had left behind, Hal settled in to the bunk. The tea was having a deeply relaxing effect on him and it was getting harder to keep his eyes open. They drooped heavily despite his efforts to remain awake and eventually he gave up entirely.

As he drew the blanket over himself, he looked across the wagon to the opposite bunk. Mira’s purple eyes looked back at him, her mouth twisted up into a smirk. “I’m surprised you’re not wrapping yourself up with a flesh blanket,” she said with a snicker.

“Don’t speak of that,” Elora said, toweling off her face and leaping up into her bunk. “Komachi’s Chonk stat went down after she threw up you know. She was outputting a healing aura until you showed up and made her lose what was left of her Chonk.”

“You say that… like it’s my fault,” Hal said, struggling to talk around a jaw-creaking yawn.

“Maybe that’s not fair,” Elora conceded. “But poor Komachi.” Hal couldn’t see her, but from the way she practically cooed those three words, he could imagine she was cradling the small loaf-shaped thing in her arms.

Hal opened his mouth to respond but instead found himself slipping further and further away. Mira’s voice came to him from across a widening gulf that swallowed the tail end of her sentence. “You know, I wonder what other kinds of flesh….”

“Wake up,” said a familiar but strangely velvety smooth voice.

When Hal opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground. Only it wasn’t dirt or even the crystallized rock that made up much of the Mirrorlands.

He was among the stars. And Besal was standing next to him, hands clasped behind his back, waiting patiently.

Struggling to rid the cobwebs from his head, Hal got to his feet quickly and glanced around. This must be a dream, he thought. They were among the stars, distant constellations blinked across the heavens all around. The floor was solid though it was made of nothing that Hal could see. Nothing but dark emptiness all around.

Distant planets, swirling quasars, and multi-colored nebulae were spread across the vast scenery.

“Walk with me,” Besal said, his voice smoother and calmer than he ever remembered him being before.

“What do you want?” Hal asked, on guard for any of Besal’s tricks. Did this have something to do with his Strain Shock?

The man, whose eyes burned with blood-red light simply looked back at Hal and shook his head sadly. He was less substantial than Hal remembered him. While he had always somewhat thought of Besal’s appearance like Peter Pan’s shadow, this was the first time Besal actually looked as translucent as one.

“We need to speak,” Besal said. “There is much that concerns us both and I would prefer you to be informed instead of bumbling about in the dark as you are so fond of. Come.” At that, Besal turned and began walking away from him.

There was no choice left but to walk alongside him among the stars, as strange as it was. He knew it was a dream now, or something like a dream. It had that strange surreal quality where everything was believable despite the alienness of it.

“Well?” Hal prompted when they had walked side-by-side for a couple of minutes in silence.

“How much do you know about what a Beastborne truly is?” Besal asked.

Hal could only shrug. “Beyond the system prompts that I’ve gotten? Not much. Nobody seems to know a great deal about it. Aside from…” Hal motioned at Besal, who regarded him with a brief understanding nod. “It seems to be a powerful Fabled Class with amazing growth potential. Other than that? I only have what I’m told, which isn’t much.”

Besal nodded as if he expected that. As well he should, considering the two shared consciousness to some extent. Besal had intimated on more than one occasion that he could see all of Hal’s memories and thoughts. Clearly, he should have seen Hal’s answer coming a mile away.

“Allow me to shed some light on some of the finer points then,” Besal said with a dark chuckle. He turned his head to regard the stars around them. “Before you make an even bigger blunder and kill more than just your friends.”

37

“Beastbornes of eld were far more symbiotic in their relationships,” Besal explained. “I regret that our… initial reactions were so combative. I truly did not think you were capable of wielding the power that it would take to keep us alive. I was merely acting in my own self-interest.”

It was Hal’s turn to chuckle darkly. “Obviously you were. And still are.”

Besal spread his arms wide, turning to face Hal and walking backward at the same time. “Guilty as charged. However, I have seen time and time again that you are capable of far more growth than your memories or past would dictate be possible. There is potential in you, but you squander it.”

Hal gave him a flat look.

“Part of that might be my fault,” Besal added. “I am willing to shoulder my portion of the blame. But I am not really so bad as you believe. I am really you, you know. I am your dark heart but I need not be your enemy, Hal. Our relationship could be more equitable.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“Merely the chance to spread my wings-” Besal stretched out his black shadowy wings that stuck out of his shoulder blades to emphasize the point. “The thought of being bonded to you does not seem quite so repugnant to me as it once was.”

Hal took note of the cordial tone and the less-than-substantial form of Besal. In most interactions, Besal was combative and assertive. Constantly trying to take back control from Hal in some way.

This was perhaps the first time that Hal could think of that Besal didn’t immediately try to apply some leverage or gain an advantage. Part of him was still guarded, he didn’t think it would be wise to handle Besal any other way, but something about the Beast seemed different this time.

“You still doubt me,” Besal said, stopping and folding his wings behind his back. “I understand. I have been less than earnest with you. All I ask is that you think about it. Together, our powers would both be magnified. There is much we could do. Together.”

As Hal opened his mouth to respond, he found himself coming awake in his bunk back in the wagon. He remembered the conversation with Besal with crystal clarity. Unlike most dreams where the details grew fuzzier and less distinct with time, Hal found himself remembering crisp details long after he got out of bed and went to greet the morning sun.

It was unusual for him as of late to sleep throughout the night. Hal was surprised to find himself waking up to the first rays of morning, well past the golden light of dawn, after weeks of waking in the middle of the night with barely 4 hours of sleep.

Both his Toxication and Strain Shock had worn off overnight, leaving him feeling back to full strength as they gathered for breakfast. But he still kicked himself at wasting the [Elixir].

With the newfound flood of EXP, he should have waited longer to use that Level Up, instead of trying it immediately and impatiently reaching for an [Elixir]. It was an error he didn’t intend to repeat.

Though he was fatigued, in a lot of pain, and far from thinking clearly at the time, that wasn’t a good enough excuse. He had to get better at managing himself in this new world.

The caravan was on the move soon after. Hal sat in his bunk, going over the prompts and perk points he had to spend. Not to mention the glut of EXP he now had at his disposal.

Monster Attunements Available

Eldritch: 2

Fear Killer 0/5

Every attack has a 10% chance to inflict the Fear status affliction. Any creature under the effect of Fear takes 15% more damage from you.

Lv1: 10% Chance | 15% Damage Increase

Lv2: 15% Chance | 20% Damage Increase

Lv3: 20% Chance | 25% Damage Increase

Lv4: 25% Chance | 30% Damage Increase

Lv5: 35% Chance | 50% Damage Increase

Elder Prowess 3/5

Eldritch creatures are deeply attuned to the ebb and flow of mana, making them unparalleled practitioners of the darkest magicks. All magic is 10% more potent.

Lv1: +10% Magic Potency

Lv2: +20% Magic Potency

Lv3: +30% Magic Potency

Lv4: +40% Magic Potency

Lv5: +50% Magic Potency

Naturally, he placed the final points into Elder Prowess. It took a lot of perk points to cap out but the benefits were massive. Even though he wasn’t using Splice at the moment, he could feel the thrum of power from his eldritch essence.

Hal placed a hand beneath the bunk where Vorax dozed. The rocking and swaying of the wagon made the mimic drowsy more often than not. Through their empathetic bond, he passed his approval of the mimic. In return, the mimic passed through his own approval of Hal.

Vorax considered Hal part of his family, even though the mimic understood that Hal was not –strictly speaking – a monster. What Hal could understand from the complex imagery the mimic imparted to him, was that the mimic did not hold that against Hal.

Rather, Vorax took the fact that Hal was only part monster as if it was a disability Hal couldn’t help. He wasn’t sure he was understanding Vorax correctly.

But it felt like Vorax thought of Hal much in the same way as a human might think of a child born with some kind of defect. A sense of loss, even pity at having less than a full life, but no less loved or accepted.

You have 1 Beast Magic Perk awaiting assignment.

Azure Lore 0/1

Reach into the very depths of Beast Magic, forming a sympathetic bond with your adversary. By touching a monster, you are able to understand your quarry that much better. Its weaknesses and fears, its strengths, and most importantly what it’ll do before it does it.

Convergence 1/5

Prerequisites: Lv.10 Beast Magic, Lv.10 Beastborne, Azure Fate, Deep Magic.

As a Beastborne you are able to alter the most fundamental aspects of yourself. By refining your Beastborne-given powers you are able to influence your body through your mental prowess. While channeling Essence, INT and CHR can be partially utilized as modifiers to your melee damage and bodily prowess. Higher tiers allow you to tap a greater portion of INT and CHR.

Lv1: 15% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Lv2: 25% INT & CHR

Lv3: 35% INT & CHR

Lv4: 45% INT & CHR

Lv5: 60% INT & CHR

Predator’s Insight 0/3

Prerequisites: Empty Vessel

Increased chance to learn Beast Magic from targets by 25%. If the chance is already 100%, adds a chance to learn additional spell(s). Influenced by INT.

Sheep’s Clothing 0/1

Utilizing the adaptive nature of Beast Magic, you are able to shroud yourself in the magical essence of a given monster. To most creatures, you appear as that type of monster and they will treat you as such.

Ruby Stars 0/1

Take your first step among the red-shifted stars of a dying universe, basking in the unfettered strength of the Elders.

With only a single perk point of Beast Magic, there really wasn’t much of a choice in the matter.

Convergence was upgraded to Level 2, and he was more than a little grateful that Beast Magic had given him another perk upon hitting Level 15 to get the useful ability in the first place.

Convergence was incredibly useful. He doubted he could have survived without it. And seeing how close he was to Level 25 Beast Magic, he wondered if it would give him another perk upon reaching it.

So far most skills only gave a perk every 10 Levels, but Hal’s skills were far from highly leveled and maybe that changed as the EXP requirements per Level grew. Then again, that only seemed to apply to Beast Magic.

All that was left to do was look over his loot and decide what to Level Up next. He had gotten so much EXP from defeating the Manastorm’s monsters and its boss, that he still had enough EXP left in his discordant stone to Level Up more.

He already Leveled Beastborne to 18 and had yet to allocate those stats, which would be unnecessary to do if he planned on also putting some EXP into Oathforger.

The Fabled Class had a lot of potential, especially if he planned on leaning heavily into Leadership and forming a Guild.

Two things Hal was steadfastly working toward.

The problem he had with Oathforger was that it seemed to rely on external factors more than internal. With Beastborne, Hal could make himself stronger simply by Leveling Up Beastborne.

Oathforger, on the other hand, seemed to need Oaths and a lot of work to make it stronger. But it allowed for more than just Hal to grow in strength. Not to mention, it was easy to raise at the moment.

While Level 19 Beastborne cost a whopping 17,600 EXP, getting Oathforger from Level 5 to Level 10 was roughly 12,000 EXP. And that would net him 25 attribute points instead of just 5.

Allowing himself to drop under 10,000 held EXP, Hal took Oathforger to Level 12. The rush of Level Ups flowed through him and he was almost tempted to drop the rest of his EXP to hit Level 13 before he took control of his wits.

He needed a buffer.

The closer they came to their goal, the more on guard he would have to be. Hal wasn’t about to let everything come undone at the last moment because he relaxed once victory was in sight.

If a horde of creatures came upon them, he was going to be ready.

38

Throughout it all, Hal couldn’t quite shake what Besal had offered to him. The thought of working with the Beast was utterly foreign to him. It was likely just another ploy to wrest control but he couldn’t stop wondering, what if it isn’t?

An end to fighting for control, a partner that he could rely on instead of an enemy that he had to constantly be guarded against. They were startling thoughts that he wasn’t sure he would ever fully believe.

But one thing couldn’t be denied. With each Level gained in Beastborne, Besal became more refined. Less… bestial. He scarcely resembled the Beast he first knew. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Even as Hal spent his EXP and hit Oathforger Level 12, he struggled to let the idea stay idle for long.

Oathforger reaches Level 12.

You have 40 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

You unlock Alliances.

Oathforgers are the beating heart of cooperation and camaraderie. As a result, they are among the few that can organize an alliance, a group of 3 separate parties into a singular whole. Creating an alliance requires you to be a leader of one party and the consent from 2 other party leaders.

You have 1 Oathforger Perk point awaiting assignment.

No Man is an Island 0/1

Adds a counter to Oaths, indicating the number of people currently bound and affected by it. Additionally, as the amount of people bound to an Oath increases, the Oath grows in strength without acquiring further axioms.

Bound in Service 0/1

You may, as an option, increase the number of Axioms for any Oath. By doing so, that Oath grows in strength relative to the Axiom(s) placed upon it.

No Man is an Island was the winner in Hal’s books. He was already intending on creating a Sanctum and that would naturally require a large population. If he forged an Oath with his people to protect them and help them, that single perk could make a massive impact.

All without needing to further limit himself by imposing more axioms. It worked well with the new ability he gained to make alliances too. While he didn’t foresee (or hope to see) any large scale battles in his future, having the option to lead 17 other people into battle was useful.

Perk choice settled, it was time to allocate his attribute points. Not since his Novice days did he have access to so many attribute points at once.

INT was an obvious choice. But with the loss of [Brilliance] he was down 5 VIT. Hal put 10 points into INT, 10 into CHR, 10 into VIT, and another 10 into MND.

His recent experiences had him leaning heavily on his magic. And he couldn’t very well keep using his magic if he was dead or badly wounded - as the Manakeeper fight so clearly illustrated.

INT and CHR both increased his spell damage across the board but also improved Convergence, Bone Armor, and Blades of Bone.

Even with the MP boost from his [Lunette Ring], he still had issues running out. He could use potions and it would be less an issue.

So long as he kept his Toxicity down.

A shudder coursed through him as he remembered Ashera’s warning of the effects lingering far after the debuff faded. No, he still needed more MP.

His HP was one of the few things so far that it seemed was impossible to “cheat.”

He could use Convergence to move faster, hit harder, or strike with greater accuracy. But he could not make his body take more hits. Considering the way the last fight went, and how frequently he was injured.

Now Level 40, Hal took a look over his newly allotted stats.

[Status]

Hal Williams

Level: 40

Discordant Stone: 6,180 /55,000

Strain: 0/50

BP: 15/15

Classes

Beastborne: 18

Oathforger: 12

Novice: 10

Resources

HP: 555/555 (+75)

SP: 465/465

MP: 705/705 (+75)

Attributes

STR: 10 (+2)

VIT: 30

DEX: 10 (+2)

AGI: 10 (+2)

INT: 52 (+7)

MND: 55 (+5)

CHR: 40 (+14)

Regeneration

HP/hr: 83.1

SP/hr: 66.3

MP/hr: 197.5

Resistances

Fire: 25

Ice: 0

Wind: 0

Earth: 0

Lightning: 0

Water: -25

Light: 0

Dark: 0

Defensive Properties

DEF: 51

MDEF: 42

Insulation: 35

Modifiers

+10% Movement Speed [Leaping Boots].

+10 MP per kill [Spaulder of the Ravenblessed].

Monster Affinity

Beastmen

Goblin: 300%

Arcana

Shadow: 325%

Mimic: 125%

Doll: 105%

Undead

Aberration: 425%

Plantoid

Treant: 285%

Planttrap: 15%

Outsider

Eldritch: 600%

Vermin

Insect: 75%

Class Affinity

Warrior: 100%

Thief: 90%

Survival Skills

Stealth: 6

Darkvision: 6

Survival: 4

Perception: 18

Investigation: 10

Manatree: 6

Combat Skills

Improvised Weaponry: 16

Sword: 17

Parry: 8

Evasion: 14

Magic Skills

Enfeebling: 18

Beast Magic: 23

Crafting Skills

Alchemy: 10

Social Skills

Leadership: 19 (+5)

Persuasion: 14

Exploration: 6

Deception: 7

Mercantile: 2

Intimidation: 3

It felt good to have his attributes grow so much. Each Level Up he was inching closer to 1,000 MP. Once he got there, he would ease off of MND and focus more on CHR and INT. Already he practically had 200 MP an hour regeneration. That broke down to roughly 3 MP a minute.

If he had access to the Camping buff, he’d be at nearly 10 MP a minute. Not to mention, having such a deep pool of mana gave him somewhere to draw from for Assimilation.

As the wagon bumped and jostled along, Hal found himself without much else to do. The interior of the wagon was mostly empty. Luda was up front with the koblins, her attendants checking in on her every five minutes it seemed.

Angram was out with Yesel at the lead wagon, giving her the route Hal had seen the night before. With any luck, they could move at greater speed knowing the pitfalls to come and reach the location of the Manaseed by that very night.

When Hal brought up the strange guard tower in the crystal forest, he encountered a surprising amount of opposition to exploring it. Instead, it was decided that if they happened to come close enough to send a few willing people with the Rangers, they would go check it out.

Hal, it seemed, was not invited.

Considering he nearly died without the flesh parachute he wished he could scrub from his mind, he didn’t press the point much. No matter what treasure or interesting aspects of the forest and its tower held, his goal remained the same: get to the Shiverglades and establish a Sanctum.

Anything else was a distraction, according to Elora at least.

Without anything else to do, Hal tried his hand at Blades of Bone again. He lost the last sword and in any case, it hadn’t been very strong. It was hastily designed and it seemed – according to the description – that the more methodically he designed a weapon, the stronger it would be.

And he had nothing but a surplus of time.

More than a few designs came to his mind. Typical edgy types that looked like spines or had skulls set into the crossguard.

Once he allowed his imagination to play itself out, he focused on the weapons he’d seen people actually use. They were often beautiful in their simplicity.

Hal wanted a weapon that, while made of bone, was not one that he’d have to wrap and hide from prying eyes. The only thing that should give it away would be its coloration. And if he could change that, he would.

With hours of travel left in the day, Hal dove into Blades of Bone by Splicing Aberration and Eldritch Essence.

He favored the falchion style of swords. Single-edged with a curved tip that ended in a point that possessed good cutting power while not making stabbing completely useless. With his use of the [Chain of Binding] stabbing was more effective than it normally would be, since he could leash somebody and pull himself toward them, using his sword like a lance.

His palm began to itch as the curved and pointed tip of the falchion stuck itself out of his skin. With a quick glance around the mostly empty interior, Hal realized nobody was looking at him to notice the oddity. Ashera, Elora, and Mira were having a snack in the kitchen area, which left Hal mostly alone.

Inch by inch the blade emerged from his palm. As morbid as it seemed, Hal was fascinated by the display. It didn’t hurt, though the itching was bothersome. Somehow, he was generating bone. During the battle, he had done the same, summoning bone-limbs to help himself move around but that was different.

They were brittle and weak compared to this. He could feel the weight of it, the strength in the lengthening blade. Each second drained 10 MP, after nearly a full minute the blade was finally done.

It was a simple falchion with an angled crossguard and a grooved grip that fit perfectly to his hand. The pommel ended in a wicked-looking spike.

Drained of almost all his MP, Hal examined the sword. He turned it over in his palms, noting the dull edge and the way it felt incomplete. It was fully formed, but something was missing. He was far from done.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Uncommon)

Design Process: Stage II (Refinement)

Damage: 20

Bonus Points: 0

Enchantments: 0

Durability: 120/120

Studying it, Hal felt a hollowness to the blade. It was waiting for something from him. Shutting his eyes, he focused on the edge of the blade. In his mind’s eye, the bone at the leading curved edge began to crackle and condense.

The pale ivory took on a polished sheen as the edge condensed and narrowed. If Hal dropped his concentration on the task for a moment, the bone partially reverted back to the way it was.

This leg of the process took only a trickle of MP, which was good because by the time he created the base of the blade, Hal was scraping the bottom of his MP. The trickle he used over the next few hours was enough that his MP regeneration was only able to increase by a few points.

At least I don’t need to take a break to recover my MP, he thought.

The process was long enough on its own. He had to maintain perfect concentration throughout. The blade folded and stretched, folded and stretched, over and over again. Each time the blade came out slightly shinier, slightly harder.

Every step of improvement made a slight adjustment to the stats of the blade. After four hours of tweaking and tinkering, Hal looked at the blade once more.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Rare)

Design Process: Stage II (Refinement)

Damage: 24

Bonus Points: 5

Enchantments: 0

Durability: 300/300

He was getting somewhere, albeit very slowly.

Rare Quality was a few grades below Heroic. Even at this stage, the weapon he was designing and improving was only 5 damage behind [Brilliance]. If “bonus points” meant added stat bonuses, it was a lot further behind in that regard. [Brilliance] had a total of 12 stat bonuses, 5 VIT, 5 CHR, and 2 STR. Perfectly suited to the Paladin that Thirty-seven had been.

And far stronger than anything Hal ever wielded. All that remained of [Brilliance] was its beautiful hilt and crossguard. The rest of the blade was utterly broken. He couldn’t even find it in the mess.

The dwarves had gone out scavenging after the Manastorm cleared. And while they reaped a king’s treasure of [Shardite], they didn’t find the other half of [Brilliance].

It turned out that the crystals the Manastorm monsters turned into upon death were [Shardite]. Even if they didn’t find any deposits of the stuff, they had collected tons of the material. More than enough to use as a building supply or to stockpile it for later.

Curiously, Hal took out the [Crystal Manashard] he received as loot from the Manakeeper. It was a jagged piece of crystal that was roughly square-shaped about the size of a silver dollar.

He only meant to examine the thing in closer detail since thinking of the [Shardite] reminded him that he hadn’t spent any time looking over his loot yet.

As soon as he took the [Crystal Manashard] out of his Inventory, it pulsed with an inner light. Its surface clouded and crackled with lightning as if a churning storm was caught inside. The peals of thunder could be felt in his fingertips.

Before he could make much sense of it, the [Crystal Manashard] slipped out of his fingers and slammed into the crossguard of the bone blade. The sword hummed with power. Lightning crackled along the edges of the blade, drawing more than a few curious looks from his friends seated at the table in the kitchen.

Interesting.

39

“What’re you doing?” Mira asked, sauntering over and peering down at the sparking blade.

Hal shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure how that happened. I put an item next to the sword I was making-”

“Woah, hold up. You can make swords?” Mira’s voice jumped a couple of octaves.

“Bone swords,” Hal clarified.

“Bone weapons? So you could make a spear? That’s even better!”

Nodding, Hal tried to pry free the [Crystal Manashard] and found it surprisingly easy to do. Drawn like a magnet to his hand, the item leaped to his palm with a hearty slap.

The sparking lightning that coursed up and down the blade ceased immediately.

“Aw, you made it boring,” Mira said, towering over him.

“Are you crafting?” Ashera asked, looking perplexed. “I have never seen anybody work with bone before.”

“Not on its own,” Elora agreed.

Fitting the [Crystal Manashard] back into the crossguard of the sword, Hal looked up at each of them. “It’s an Essence thing I can do, part of being Beastborne but this feels… like there’s more here. It’s hard to explain.”

What he was doing felt advanced but it also barely scratched the surface. There was more to working with bone than he was doing. Was there a deeper crafting system at work behind the scenes just waiting to be discovered?

Hal was determined to find out.

Over the next few hours, his friends gradually went about their business. Mira hovered over him, entranced by what he was doing and for once staying absolutely quiet.

There was something soothing about working with bone. The shaping and reshaping, the small refinements he was able to pursue. Each act was important and because he created the bone he still felt that thread of connection. He could control it, contort it, and shape it as he desired with only a thin trickle of mana.

No tools, no forge, no worrying about temperatures or finding materials. He had everything he needed in the palms of his hands.

Mira handed him a bowl of stew, when it became apparent he wasn’t about to get up for something so trivial as food. Hal was fully entranced in the creation process.

As the sun began to slant in harsh blinding angles through the westerly windows of the wagon, Hal took a break from his work to look at his creation. Over the past few hours, he learned a great deal about how to improve his work.

The second stage of the design, called the refinement, was where he had utter control over the shape and appearance of the item. He could lengthen, flatten, anything that did not drastically change the original dimensions of the item.

He could make the blade narrower by condensing it or he could make it slightly larger by expanding, it creating hollow spaces within the structure. The latter made the weapon stronger and more durable while the former made the weapon lighter for its size but the trade-off was a loss in strength and durability.

If he had made a much larger weapon and condensed it down, he was certain that he could make a superior weapon. But to do so would expend more MP than he currently had. The bone falchion he made had taken a little over 600 MP to create.

I’ll leave that experimentation for another time, he thought. Once I have more MP and access to potions that can restore it easily I can try to forge another weapon using everything I’ve learned.

The refinement stage also allowed him to add things to the design. His [Empyreal Shardite], and his [Crystal Manashard] were two such examples. The weapon seemed to have a limited number of slots to take such items into its creation. At the moment, Hal was only able to place the [Crystal Manashard] which dramatically improved its strength and made it spark with harmless electricity, and a single [Empyreal Shardite].

While the [Crystal Manashard] found its home in the center of the crossguard, the yellow-to-blue shifting [Empyreal Shardite] stretched and thinned, coating its leading edge in a layer of the crystalline substance.

At any point, Hal could remove the items by force of will, or move them around as he so chose. But he found that the places automatically assigned were suited to his purposes. And so he ate and worked.

The hours whiled away as Hal found himself stretched to his limit, no longer able to improve upon the blade during the refinement stage. Try as he might he could not fold the blade anymore, could not condense it a single atom more.

It was time to move on.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)

Design Process: Stage II (Refinement)

Damage: 34

Bonus Points: 12

Enchantments: 1

Durability: 700/700

The system was waiting for him to press on to the next stage. With a mental confirmation, he did. A white light enveloped the blade, and Hal felt the material below his hands stiffen. He knew, intrinsically that the physical form of the weapon was permanently set as if he had forged and quenched a metal blade itself.

Any changes he wanted to make to the core facets of the blade would require the entire thing to be remade. Considering that throughout the course of a full day Hal was only on the third stage, he had no intention of altering the weapon any further at the moment.

Mira touched Hal’s shoulder and he started. At some point, she sat next to him on his bunk and she was so still and quiet that Hal hardly realized she was there. “Didn’t mean to scare you, flesh boy,” she said with a smirk. Mira jerked her chin toward the blade. “Is it done?”

Hal looked at the weapon, focusing on it.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)

Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)

Damage: 34

Bonus Points: 12

Enchantments: 1

Durability: 700/700

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core

He shook his head. “No, this is just another stage.”

“Can you use it now though?” Mira asked, leaning a little too close and practically breathing on him while she gawked at the weapon.

“I’m not sure.”

For most of the process, Hal laid the blade on his lap and hovered his hands above the blade, directing his mana into it on an instinctual level. He knew that he could still feed the weapon mana, it was waiting for it actually, but he could no longer shape it.

For the first time in several hours, Hal got to his feet and gripped the weapon by its hilt. Form-fitted to his exact grip, the bony ridged material wasn’t as uncomfortable as he would have thought.

The first thing he noticed, aside from his momentarily weakened legs, was how light the weapon was. It was like a feather compared to even the smallest sword he had wielded.

While there wasn’t much room in the moving wagon, Hal was able to get a few practice thrusts in and found himself overbalancing with the blade. He was so used to a weightier weapon that he was putting too much force into each thrust, leaning too far forward in the process.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” he said, more to himself than anybody else.

Mira surged to her feet and extended her hand. “May I?”

With a shrug, Hal handed her the unfinished weapon. Though it was still quite a lot stronger than [Brilliance], something Hal took secret pride in.

It was one thing to make a weapon on par with his old gifted blade, it was something entirely else to make a weapon that surpassed it. There was nothing inherently wrong with [Brilliance], aside from the fact that Hal never could figure out how to trigger its blind enchantment.

[Briliance] wasn’t his sword though. No matter how much he wanted to wield it in honor of Thirty-seven, it would never be his. Perhaps the blade knew it on some level and never gave Hal access to its full strength.

In either case, as Hal watched Mira make inexpert jabs and pokes at the air with the blade, he felt a sense of pride in his creation. Straight blades simply were not his preferred style. Double-sided blades less so.

Even while using a chain in his off-hand, he could use that other hand to brace the blunt side of the blade if he needed. Not so with a double-sided blade. It required a different set of tactics that he found he was either ill-suited for, or simply did not enjoy.

The curved tip allowed Hal to make smoother, longer cuts without snagging the tip on bone or armor. Something that happened a little too frequently with [Brilliance] for Hal’s tastes.

Straight-blades with double-edges made sense for Thirty-seven. And for anybody else who wielded a shield in their off-hand, he supposed. With only one hand to maneuver the weapon, they could cut on the backswing without having to twist their wrist around.

Something Hal did automatically and without much thought, stealing one of the benefits of a double-edged weapon.

The wagon stopped and Hal immediately found his gaze lingering on the pitch-black window. How long had he worked on the sword?

It was something he meant to do only to pass the time but if the wagons were already stopping it was late. In fact, judging by the darkness outside they should have stopped some time ago to set up camp. It wasn’t safe to travel in the dark, even with the keen-eyed Rangers keeping watch.

“What’s going on?” Hal asked, his voice croaking from lack of water.

Mira handed him the weapon back. “I dunno, why don’t we go see?”

Taking it, Hal headed toward the rear door of the wagon and opened it. He hopped down to the ground, right in front of a surprised Angram. His ruby eyes sparkled with mirth as he regarded Hal.

“Your directions proved worthwhile after all,” he said with that perpetual smirk of his. “We’re here.” And with a grand sweep of his lean arm, Angram indicated the tall narrow bluff that climbed above the circle of wagons to the east.

Hal knew what would be standing there but he was still surprised to see the subtle starlight glow of the single unbroken arch at the edge. His goal was finally in sight after so many weeks of travel.

40

Standing before the lone arch in the middle of a ruined temple entrance, Hal took a deep breath. His friends surrounded him, of course, as did every last Ranger and a few of Durvin’s most accomplished fighters.

As much as Hal hated the pomp and ceremony, he knew the caravan would be well-protected with dozens of capable dwarven fighters still on edge after the Manastorm yesterday.

He tried to explain that nobody else could go in with him, but they came anyway. Everybody wanted to see the Manaseed.

The Shadow Sages as Hal referred to them – they never named themselves or their affiliations as far as Hal could tell – gave him the location of the Manaseed. More than the location, they explained that it was protected by potent wards.

Wards that Hal couldn’t hope to overcome. But with the right knowledge, he could walk right through them.

Armed with that knowledge, Hal trusted their guidance. The deal had been struck between them. He found himself believing them. They just wanted to go home. He doubted they had any reason to lie.

Without a Manaseed, much less a Manatree, he was not going to come back from death again. Noth put a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers dug into his skin beneath the simple jacket he wore over his shirt.

He wore no armor, no weapons, and did his best to hold no ill-intent in his heart. Just as the Shadow Sages had instructed.

“Are you sure about this?” Noth asked, lowering her voice so only Hal could hear. “I have traveled between planes, you might be able to use me.”

Hal shook his head. “They were clear. Only a single person may enter. Unless you want to go all the way around to the north, south, or east from here to those entrances.” Hal pointed out the three distant similar rises that ended in crystallized bluffs.

The wind whipped back Hal’s simple shirt and his hair that had grown long enough to cover his ears in wavy black curtains. He would need to get it cut soon but it was so far beneath his priorities that he doubted it would be done within the month.

With sheer crystalized cliffs that fell over a hundred feet to the waters that gathered from three the lakes below. In the silvery bandlight, the waters shimmered like curdled moonlight.

Some terrible tragedy befell this place long ago. Before Rinbast, maybe even before any Founders. The ruins were lost to the ravages of time, except for four arches at each of these points high up on a rise that overlooked the lakes below and the river that joined them.

From what little Hal understood, the Mirrorlands and surrounding regions were once lush and green. To the north and east were towering mushroom groves. Wide capped purple fungi that shaded the land in darkness. Spindly bioluminescent things that Hal could clearly make out miles away.

It was as alien a place as the Mirrorlands. Perhaps more so.

“At least let us tie a rope around ye, boy!” Durvin cried out in frustration.

The arch stood at the very edge of the bluff. To pass through it, he would exit out over empty space. Though the Shadow Sages had been confident that he would exit at a different location, the thought still sent chills down his spine.

But to let Durvin or anybody tether him would negate the magic at work.

“I already explained, Durvin,” Hal said. “If you are all so dead set on waiting here, then wait. There is not much else you can do, I shouldn’t be long.”

“Ye won’t be long alive if’n ye fall off the durned cliff, boy!” Durvin kicked a rock then paced back and forth. “Dagdamora, Hal! Ye gonna give an old dwarf an ulcer.” He waved his thick-fingered hand. “Be off with ye then. The sooner ye get gone the sooner this business is behind us.”

Hal clapped Durvin on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine, Durvin.”

With one last look around at his friends, Hal walked up to the arch. It glittered with starlight, made of some clear, lucent material that trapped the night sky within its glassy confines.

There was no magic he could see about the arch. Nothing that suggested it was anything more than a beautiful sculpture of ancient and indeterminate material.

He stepped through, shutting his eyes and focusing on his goal. There was no ill-intent in his desire to build a Sanctum. To provide safety to people – and monsters – who lived in a world as savage as Aldim. Where a Manastorm could sweep decades of buildings away, changing them into something unrecognizable while monsters devoured the survivors.

A warm breeze puffed past his cheek as he stepped through the archway. Despite everything he told himself, he expected his next footfall to plunge through the open air.

It struck solid stone.

Mornheim.

Your Exploration Skill has risen to Level 7.

+10% Faster drawing speed (+10%).

+3% Discoverable range (+21%).

Opening his eyes, Hal took a look around. Warm sunlight fell upon a gorgeous temple of white stone flecked with quartz that glittered in the mid-afternoon light.

A fragrant scent of incense wafted over him on the breeze. Fluted columns marched off in every direction, with yellowing summer grass threaded between the worn flagstones at his feet.

He was at a crossroads.

Hal entered the pavilion, thick beams of stone created wide lines of shadow on the flooring. Each of the cardinal directions held a similar archway as the one he entered from. He knew they would be indistinguishable but for a single mark, one that he knew to look for.

Perhaps now, with his significantly higher INT, if he spoke to the Shadow Sages he would be able to remember their directions. They originally gave him every turn and path he needed to take. But back then, he couldn’t commit it all to memory.

Though they had put the information directly into his mind, it had slowly leaked out over the intervening weeks until it felt murky and vague.

He knew to look for a constellation within the stars of the arches. A constellation that would never be in the same place twice, which meant he needed to examine each archway carefully.

Time, the Shadow Sages had told him, did not flow properly within Mornheim.

Hal went to the first archway on his left, purely as a habit of picking the leftmost choice first. That way he could work his way around. While each pavilion would have four arches, the one he came through would not count. Entering that would bring him back to the archway he first used back in the Mirrorlands.

If that happened, he would need to wait until the next night to try again.

Bending his focus to the task, Hal inspected the archway from the bottom up. Halfway up the left side of the arch, he found what he was looking for. A constellation in the shape of an archer.

Your Investigation has risen to Level 11.

+1% Investigation speed (+11%).

+2% Investigation success (+22%).

It looked more like a stick figure to him, but it was clear enough amid the other shapes the stars created. He saw many more constellations as he took a moment to examine the rest of the arch. Monsters and men, a great hammer poised to strike an anvil, and a tall tower like that of a castle’s turret.

They were easier to spot if he relaxed his eyes and didn’t focus on the individual stars but on the overall pattern.

While the urge to check the other arches was strong, Hal walked through the archway. Instead of the grassy garden filled with cypress, lemon, and olive trees, Hal stepped into another semi-shaded pavilion.

Only this time he approached from the south, instead of the west as he would have expected. With a shrug, Hal went to the next arch on his left. Finding no pattern there, he went to the next and found it within a few seconds.

Time and time again, Hal passed through the arches. Each time he did, the scenery grew a little darker, a little colder. All the while his Investigation was steadily rising, and with its increased skill he found it easier to spot the constellation.

Until, upon his twentieth archway, he entered onto a scene of dusk. An omnipresent whistling wind could be heard in the distance and the air had turned frigid. Gone were the warm fragrant breezes and soft sunlight.

There was only mounting darkness and a gathering storm that pressed in on him menacingly.

Your Investigation has risen to Level 14.

+1% Investigation speed (+14%).

+2% Investigation success (+28%).

He bundled his jacket tightly around himself and pressed on. Another arch, and another beyond that, until finally upon his twenty-fifth arch he walked into a different scene.

Rain poured from the heavens, battering the stones and the lone withered tree that stood before him, enshrined in the same starry material that made the archways.

His recognition of the massive tree was instant, even its pathetic state. It was a Manatree. His heart sank at the condition of it. But within the dead blackened branches, he felt a spark of life. A tiny ember of hope glimmered at the end of one long, gnarled twig.

As the rain beat down upon him, soaking through his clothes in a matter of seconds, Hal watched as the shining mote of fragile life swayed in the storm.

A Manaseed.

Up above the winds swirled, clouds gathered to block out all light making the tiny glow of the Manaseed all the more noticeable.

Hal strode toward it with purpose but each step was met with howling wind that suddenly shifted to blow him away. Just as he dug in his heels against the slick stone and lowered his head, the wind would shift.

It was a constant battle, one that sorely tempted his use of magic. Even with the tempest raging around him, it would have been child’s play with his Convergence enhanced strength.

Barring that, using his bone-limbs to secure a foothold would do just as well.

On that, the Shadow Sages had been explicit. No magic. No weapons. No armor. Any suggestion of aggression would likely spell his doom. There were many wards within Mordheim, Hal could feel them. The wards created a tingling sensation in the air, anticipating the slightest mistake.

He wasn’t sure how long it took, for every three steps he took he was blown back two or fell to one knee with a painful jolt. But he continued, undaunted. His gaze never left the symbol of hope the Manaseed had become.

Hal stretched out his hand, using his other to brace himself against the low circling wall of starry material that enshrined the Manatree. The wind threatened to lift him up and blow him skyward even as his fingers curled around the glowing mote of life.

As soon as Hal closed his fist around the Manaseed, his grip on the slick glassy stone slipped and he was pulled into the storm raging all around. A bolt of lightning crashed into the Manatree, blasting it to flinders and igniting what remained into a fiercely burning pyre.

And then there was only darkness.

41

Consciousness flashed like bolts of lightning through Hal. He was tumbling ever skyward one second, then crashing hard against a bone-breaking stone the next, only to be swept away once more soon after. Without armor or magic, he had no choice, no hope but to curl protectively around the Manaseed and protect it with his very body.

Bones broke and skin tore as he was thrown around like a ragdoll. He passed out more times than he could count, awakening only when pain or a sudden shift jolted him awake.

A great ruined city spread out beneath him between the flashes of illuminating lightning. Peals of thunder shook the sky and the great city below him, splendid in its sweeping architecture, crumbled and fell into the dark waters that surrounded it.

Darkness fell upon him again but this time it was different. He was still awake. The storm seemed to lessen, and when he felt the next gust of wind, Hal braced for the coming pain.

But there was nothing.

He didn’t dare relax his guard. The Manaseed was safe in his grasp and he was curled in a ball around it as much to protect it as himself.

A moment later Hal was spat out of the archway he entered on, bowling over Durvin and three dwarves to lie in a tangled heap of flailing limbs and wagging beards.

A sturdy leg clocked Hal in the side of the head, followed by a fist to the gut that blasted the breath from his lungs and stopped his rolling momentum. None of the hits were intentional. If they were, he would have received a lot more than the bruises he knew he would be sporting the next morning.

Sturdy dwarven hands gripped Hal and lifted him to his feet. It always amazed him how strong the average dwarf was. But after Hal’s head stopped spinning and he noticed the bracing hand sporting a single mythril-and-gold ring, he understood it was no average dwarf that had picked him up.

Durvin’s signet ring was easily recognizable, bearing his clan’s symbol of a double-sided axe with a blazing torch set between the two blades.

“Up ye get, boy,” the dwarf chortled. “Not even gone an eyeblink and ye get tossed out on yer arse! Musta taken a wrong turn, eh?”

Durvin clapped Hal on the back after seeing that he was able to keep himself steady. The dwarf’s words rang in Hal’s head, rattling around for much longer than it should have to register. “How long was I gone?” Hal asked. Despite being soaked to the bone, his throat was dry from the hours of searching and exploring.

Only then did Durvin realize that Hal was damp when he was dry just a few moments ago, by the dwarf’s reckoning that is. “What’re yer fer?” he asked skeptically.

Hal’s ejection had taken him several yards down the bluff and just as the other dwarves he knocked over were grumbling and getting to their feet, the rest of their group came over.

Noth was the first to Hal, her golden eyes bright. “You found it.”

“What?” Angram asked, shaking his head. “He was barely gone a second- Oh.” It took the Ranger a moment to notice Hal’s state. Several scrapes and bruises were clear on his face and hands, his clothes were torn and tattered in places, and he was dripping wet.

The more serious wounds weren’t readily visible.

That last part was easier to miss in the dark of night, no matter the bright slash of bandlight coming from between the scudding clouds above nor the moons that slowly made their skyward passage.

The entire time, Hal kept both of his hands clenched to his stomach, afraid to let go for an instant. He felt the Manaseed pulsing like a living thing, its warm glow soothing the many injuries he had taken.

“He’s hurt,” Mira said, casting her gaze across him and settling on his stomach where she must have thought he was clutching a wound. She reached into her Inventory and pulled out a [Hi-Potion], offering it to him. “Show us the wound, Hal. This should take care of it.”

Halfway to Hal, Ashera’s hand shot out and clamped on Mira’s wrist. “He is only just now recovering from Toxication. It would be best if he waited a full day more before taking any alchemical solutions.”

Even in the dim light of the night, Mira’s cheeks flushed and she muttered a brief apology as she put the bottle away.

“It’s okay,” Hal said. “I can take care of it.” Hal glanced to the side at his stats, noticing that his HP was hovering around 120. Concentrating, Hal used Assimilation, swapping most of his MP and SP to recover his HP back to full.

Bones reknit, straightening out and resuming their proper shape. For a moment he wondered how horrible it would be if healing only repaired the damage but the bone would still need to be set.

Healing so much itched like Hell. Hal clenched his hands into fists, one hand still curled tightly around the Manaseed to stop from scratching at his skin. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, where the itching sensation was worst was inside his ribs as the cracked bones were repaired.

That most useful of abilities once more healed the worst of his injuries and left him only tired and feeling drawn. There would be plenty of bruises in the morning, and more soreness than he would know what to do with. But for now, he could walk back to the caravan as he talked.

On the way, he told them what it was like within Mornheim. The strangeness of the place and the beautiful arches. It wasn’t until they were back at the caravan, gathered around the roaring fire at the center of the wagon circle, that Hal reached the Manatree in his story.

He never thought of himself as much of an orator. Storytelling was never a strong skill of his and writing was “not a viable career path,” as his parents used to tell him.

But he found that a large gathering had encircled the warming light of the campfire and dozens of people were leaning in to hear his every word about his –rather boring, in his opinion – adventure into Mornheim.

The very mention of the place sent a shiver of gasps through the group. But nobody dared to break the spell of his storytelling to give him a reason why.

So he continued with the story, explaining the Manatree’s sad state and the storm that ravaged the dark ruins around him. When he finally spoke of the Manaseed and grasping it, he held out his hand and for the first time uncurled his fingers.

The glowing aura of the tiny Manaseed, a perfect sphere of white-gold light around the tiny mote, reflected in the eyes of every onlooker. The only sound that could be heard was the crackle of the campfire.

Hal put the Manaseed away into his Inventory and continued the story. It did not escape his notice that several people were shaking their heads as if coming out of a trance.

Once his story was told, dinner was declared ready. Hal stayed by the fire, warming himself and drying off, letting the hearty meal of meat and rice slathered in some sort of savory purple sauce settle pleasantly in his stomach.

Whether they were bored without a story to hear, or they had other things to attend to, the crowd that had gathered dispersed after the meal. Hal heard some excited retellings of the story in snippets here and there as people moved around in small groups discussing it amongst themselves.

“Smart move, boy,” Durvin said, clapping him on the shoulder and pulling up a stool to sit beside him. He took out a large polished pipe and began packing it with purple-tinged herbs. He raised his bushy bronzed brows and motioned to the pipe, silently asking if he wanted any.

When Hal shook his head, the dwarf shrugged and resumed packing.

“What do you mean?”

“Not that I expect ye know this, but storytellin’ is one o’ the dwarves' favorite things. Ain’t nothin’ we like more than swappin’ tales. An’ yerself got a mighty tale indeed, made all the better by showing that little bauble ye got to all that were lookin’. An’ that’s a lot o’ folk.”

It wasn’t a calculated effort, most of the story was boring. Though, he guessed that only those who came up to the archway heard the most boring part. Once he returned to the camp was when the story had launched into the more exciting aspects of him fighting against the storm and the appearance of the withered Manatree.

“I figured you might scold me for showing it openly,” Hal admitted with a chuckle. “Something about people getting big ideas in their heads.”

“Manaseeds don’t work like that, boy. Ye gotta give it over. Besides, oh hold on a tick.” Durvin began patting his pockets looking around for something before turning his bronze-eyed stare on Hal. “Ye got a light?”

“’Fraid not.”

With a shrug, Durvin leaned down and put a thick calloused thumb to the side of his broad nose, closing off one nostril. As much as Hal thought he knew what was about to happen, he couldn’t look away.

Why the dwarf was going to blow snot all over his pipe was another matter entirely. One that Hal didn’t have the voice to question as Durvin took a deep breath and then blew hard.

Instead of snot, a thin jet of flame erupted from his one open nostril and lit the pipeweed inside. A pleasantly sweet smell filled the immediate area and a thin blue smoke threaded up from the pipe’s bowl.

Durvin snorted a few more times after removing his thumb and made a series of strange noises as he smacked his lips. “Snaahhh, shalestone! I hate doin’ that! Tickles something fierce. Like a sneeze ye just can’t get out.” He turned to glare at Hal as if it was somehow his fault he shot fire out of his nose.

“Neat trick,” Hal said, watching the dwarf jam the mouthpiece of his pipe into the side of his mouth and continue his glare.

“What ye gonna do with it now?”

“I have to wait until we find a suitable location,” Hal said. That should have been obvious, shouldn’t it? Durvin knew the plan. They were going to the Shiverglades now with all haste to set up a Sanctum once and for all.

Puffing out great plumes of smoke from his nostrils, Durvin let out a throaty chuckle. “There’s lots ye can do with a Manaseed.”

“Like?” Hal prompted.

The surly dwarven leader leaned in and dropped his voice into a low rumble. “Ye can establish a Guild with it, fer starters.”

42

Hal started at that. “How do you create a Guild with a Manaseed? I don’t want to harm the Manaseed or make it impossible to plant it later.”

“It ain’t like that,” Durvin clarified, leaning back and puffing on his pipe contently. “Y’see, normally it’s the Founders that got them Manaseeds. They can gift ye a bit o’ it’s strength to found a Guild.”

“Like the Adventurer’s Guild?”

Durvin eyed him as if he wasn’t sure if Hal was serious or not. Once he decided he was, he let out a raucous, “Bwahahah!” Then slapped his knee for good measure. “Ye got big dreams, I’ll give ye that. Technically? Ye got the right o’ it. The Adventurer’s Guild is a Guild but its scope be so big lad….” He shook his head. “Might as well be something else entirely.”

Taking out the Manaseed, Hal rolled it around between his thumb and forefinger. It was the size of a large marble, the thin glowing sphere around the mote of light was as hard as glass and slightly warm.

It was alive. That was obvious enough even without his Manatree skill. But through the skill, he could sense more information. The seed was old. It was part of a line of Manatrees that had long-since gone extinct.

This was an entirely different breed of Manatree than anything Rinbast had access to. Whether that was good or bad though, he couldn’t tell.

The energy the Manaseed gave off was unlike anything he experienced in Murkmire.

For a while, he stared at the Manaseed while Durvin smoked in companionable quiet.

He could create a Guild. The power was within the Manaseed. Focusing on it, Hal could tell that to do so would hardly draw on the thing’s power. And it would allow him to create the beginnings of a settlement before ever planting the tree.

Creating a Guild would allow him to organize everything under a single banner. But he was already part of a Guild. The Adventurer’s Guild was so well-known across Fallmark that it was just referred to as The Guild.

Could he be a part of two Guilds at the same time?

“O’ course ye can, boy!” Durvin roared, startling Hal. He hadn’t realized he spoke his thoughts aloud. “It’s just, there ain’t that many Guilds, on account o’ the Founder dolin’ them out like fancy treasures. From what I hear, there was some fallin’ out atween the Founder and the Adventurer’s Guild. Nasty bit o’ business. Ain’t been a single new Guild since.”

“What about all the craftsmen in Murkmire?”

Durvin made a dismissive gesture. “Guild only in name, ain’t no real Guild like what ye could make. If’n ye get a chance, take a gander at their signs. Always spelled “g-u-i-l-d,” all lowercase. Not even them fancy muck-a-mucks would dare cross that line.”

Hal put away the Manaseed and thought about what Durvin said. “What else do you know about Guilds?”

“Not much,” he admitted freely, taking a long puff on his pipe. “Ye gotta remember, ain’t many Guilds been created in the last few decades. Always been rare business, an’ most o’ the sort get obliterated soon after. Normal people ain’t got a need for a Guild y’see. Largely combat-focused, and what Founder would want a growing – likely rivalrous – group like that hangin’ about? Ye’d be defying the Founder in more ways than one.”

“So, making a Guild would be seen as an aggressive act. And the Founder would be aware of it?”

Durvin could only shrug. “Me clan’s got a phrase fer what yer fixin’ to do, ‘spittin’ in a giant’s eye’ we say. Ain’t somethin’ no smart dwarf would do.” He clapped Hal on the back and let out another bellowing laugh. “Good thing for ye that I ain’t the shiniest ore in the pile!”

He noted that Durvin didn’t answer his other question but then the dwarf likely didn’t know the answer. If it was the same family as the Founder’s Manatree, Hal would have been wary.

But with such a stark difference between the lineages, he felt reasonably sure that Rinbast would have no idea another Guild was formed. Much less have any sway over its creation or knowledge about its location.

That last bit was especially important. The last thing Hal wanted to do was paint an even larger target on his back.

“Ye give it some thought, eh?” Durvin said, pushing to his feet with a groan and ambling off toward his wagon with a lazy wave of one hand.

“I’ll do that,” Hal muttered to himself.

Returning to his wagon, Hal found it full with every face turning to regard him. “Just the man we were looking for,” Angram said.

Hal shut the door behind him and went to his bunk, Noth scooted over and gave a welcoming smile. “What’s all this about?” Hal asked.

“We figured, as those closest to you we should have a discussion about what to do next,” Elora said.

“Komachi,” the pobul in the bunk above Hal’s head intoned solemnly. She stuck her furry face over the edge, her tiny paws gripping the bunk.

“Quite,” Mira said, as if Komachi had said something profound. “So, ya gonna make a Guild or what? What’re we gonna do bossman?”

Leaning forward, Hal placed his elbows on his knees and drew out the Manaseed. He held it aloft in his palm for everybody to see. “I don’t have a name for a Guild,” he admitted.

“That’s not necessary,” Ashera said, her gaze fastened to the way Hal rolled the Manaseed around in his palm. “Though you would likely want to name it eventually, Guilds don’t expressly need names to function. You can also make a private Guild, where nobody knows you’re part of it until it goes public.”

“That would seem best for now,” Hal admitted. “Not that I’m great with names anyway, but the more time I have to think of something – preferably with some help – the better.”

“What else can you tell me about Guilds?” Hal asked Ashera.

The lamora shrugged. “Not much more than that. I know a little bit from overhearing conversations. Guilds can be set to private or public. There are Guild Levels, though I do not know what that means or entails. And there are unique buffs and abilities you can trigger as the Guildmaster.

“Though, as I have said, I do not know the specifics of any of those. Most people only know about Guilds from the Adventurer’s Guild and even then that is not a typical Guild.”

“How do you mean?” Mira asked, her purple eyes sparkling.

“You do not receive much in the way of benefits from the Guild, do you?” Ashera asked rhetorically. “The Guild does a lot of good but I feel with such a large membership it changed somehow. Though I do not know how, I would not be surprised if Rinbast forced a change upon them to prevent competition.”

“Because the Guild’s Manaseed came from Rinbast,” Hal reasoned.

Ashera blinked away her startlement and stared at him. “As far as I know, that is correct.” She motioned to the Manaseed. “This is… not?” Her hand inched out tentatively and Hal let the seed roll off his palm and into Ashera’s.

She held it reverently, eyes wide with wonder as she rolled it around in her palm, examining it from every angle.

“Well?” Elora prompted after several long moments of silence.

Giving the Manaseed back, Ashera shook her head. “I could tell no such thing. Nothing, in fact. I know it is a Manaseed, it is similar but clearly different from the one that was once in your possession, Elora. Aside from that, I cannot tell if it is an offshoot of Rinbast’s or not.”

“It isn’t,” Hal said confidently. He stared into the sphere of light encompassing the tiny mote and knew without a doubt that he was correct. This was something much older.

“The color is different,” Elora agreed. “And the aura around it is much larger. The one I had looked stunted by comparison.”

“Well, make the Guild already!” Mira said, shooting to her feet and pacing in the cramped space. “Or now that ya got what you want, are you afraid of taking command?” She turned on him, putting her hands on her shapely hips and leaning down until her golden tanned face was inches from his. “You gonna punk out now that we’re right at the finish line?”

“I mean, we’re not,” Hal argued. He motioned to the caravan outside the walls of the wagon. “We still have to get to the Shiverglades and find a suitable location. Having a Guild isn’t going to change that. And once I set up a Sanctum… what of the Guild then? Will it grow to become the governing body of the Sanctum or is it going to be the military?

“There are a thousand questions like that rattling around in my head. I don’t have the answers to any of them. Do you?”

That put Mira back on her heels. “Fair enough. Maybe I let my excitement get the better of me. Don’t take too long though, yeah? If the Guild can get Leveled Up, we’ll need to work toward that sooner rather than later.”

“Duly noted,” Hal said, putting away the Manaseed. He had so many thoughts swirling in his head. He just needed a night to think about it. Though he didn’t look forward to yet another sleepless night.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Angram said with a grin. “So long as you don’t call us the Beasts or something nonsensical like that, I don’t care what you name the Guild.”

One by one the occupants of the wagon went to sleep, the lanterns doused and darkness settled upon them. Hal tried to sleep as usual but after a few hours, if that, he had to admit he was doing more tossing and turning than actual sleeping.

Quietly as he could, he snuck out from the wagon, putting on his boots only after gently latching the wagon’s rear door.

Your Stealth has risen to Level 7.

+1% Stealth success (+7%).

+1% Stealth speed (+7%).

-1% SP drain (-7%).

Hal found it darkly comical that his Stealth increased by sneaking out of the wagon and not around deadly enemies. Then again, it seemed to suggest that he was successful. It never seemed to Level Up if he failed, though it was hard to remember since he rarely used the skill.

With a shake of his head, Hal finished lacing his boots and strode off toward the dying embers of the campfire.

43

Approaching the campfire, Hal’s thoughts whirled in an uncontrollable maelstrom. The truth he could only admit to himself was that he never thought he would get this far.

Tomorrow they were going to be setting off toward the Shiverglades at all speed. There was nothing more for them to achieve here, even the potential other camp or the tower was of less consequence to the group than he thought it should be.

They finally had all but one piece to establishing a Sanctum. And that only required a location. Hal could feel the desire to be planted emanating from the Manaseed. So close, yet so far. How many days of travel would it take, even once they reached normal ground again?

And that would be if another Manastorm didn’t hit them.

Something he was far less confident about facing again after having barely survived the previous encounter. He thought the Manashield would have done more to help.

Hal let the thoughts slide away as he picked a seat by the glowing coals of the campfire. It gave off enough heat to ward the chill of the night and it was late enough that nobody bothered him.

Focusing on the Manaseed, Hal brought up a prompt he only half-expected to see. Though it was stranger than he expected it to be. Almost as if the Manaseed was talking to him.

As the Rightful Heir, you have the right to create a Guild.

Guilds are powerful entities of cooperation and coordination toward a singular vision. More than one Guild has gone on to found a Kingdom or Empire. As a Rightful Heir, you are possessed of this capacity as well, should you so choose.

Would you like to create a Guild?

Nodding, Hal sent the mental confirmation to the Manaseed. It glowed brightly for a moment, drawing several looks from the few people out so late that night.

Pushing them out of his thoughts, Hal felt himself drawn into the Manaseed.

What would you wish to name your Guild?

This can be changed at any time should you wish, though a waiting period of one week must pass after a new name change.

He’d given the name a lot of thought, despite what Ashera said. It seemed important. He didn’t want to name it something egotistical that included his name. Nor did he want something bland and generic like the Adventurer’s Guild.

Naming was never his strong suit, but after quite some thought he believed he came up with a name that was suitable to their style. Seeing the name written out in the prompt brought a smile to his face.

You have selected: Bravers Guild.

Is this correct?

Far from perfect, but it encapsulates the ethos of the Guild I want to create, he thought. Defiers Guild seemed too on-the-nose, and a little cringy beside. Not that Bravers is much better, but it’s the best I can come up with and I don’t want to leave the Guild nameless. Who would want to join that?

Once confirmed, the prompt scrolled by to the next section, filled with information relevant to a Guildmaster.

Guilds

Guilds expand and grow based on their Guild Level. Guild Levels are attained after hitting certain breakpoints of Guild Experience, which is gained by performing a variety of actions while within that Guild.

Whenever a Guild Member gains EXP, Levels Up, gains a Skill Level, completes a Guild Quest, or performs certain unique actions the Guild gains EXP. As the Guild Levels Up it attains Guild Perks to expand its scope and capability based on the Guild Archetype unlocked.

“What’s a Guild Archetype?” Hal muttered, and found to his surprise, that the Manaseed answered him.

Guild Archetypes

All fledgling Guilds have 4 available Archetypes: Mercantile, Adventure, Authority, and Settlement, with the last requiring a planted Manaseed.

Every Level Up awards a Guild Perk which can be spent on one of these Archetypes. Advancing Guild Tiers requires specific conditions unique to the given Archetype.

Mercantile Archetype

Mercantile Guilds focus on the creation and acquiring of wealth or rare items. They are often specifically focused on one or two types of generation within a given skill set. Many Mercantile Guilds are formed around a singular discipline such as the Goldsmith's Guild, or the Alchemist's Guild.

The Perks associated with a Mercantile Guild revolve around increasing generation of goods or the acquirement of raw materials within the Guild Territory, as well as various boons to crafting quality.

Each Mercantile Guild Tier requires a certain amount of stored wealth in a Vault - which must be constructed prior to advancement - as well as rare items created or discovered.

Adventure Archetype

Focused on fighting and braving the wilds, an Adventure Guild is one of the most common types of Guilds because of its ease of expansion and requirements. All that is required for an Adventure Guild is a Guild Hall, and those willing to go out into the wilds and fight monsters.

Perks of the Adventure Guild Archetype involve boosts to damage, defense, exploration, and general capacity to improve the combat ability of its members within the Guild Territory.

Guild Tiers require a number of monsters slain, rare monsters slain, and in some cases, rare ingredients harvested from monsters or dungeons cleared.

Authority Archetype

The management and improvement of the Guild as a whole is achieved through the Authority Archetype. As an agnostic type, Authority allows for the Guild to grow without being constrained to the various requirements imposed upon by the specific Archetypes. As a result, its improvements are often more utilitarian in nature.

Settlement Archetype

Requiring a planted Manaseed, this Archetype is focused on building a community and the various resources necessary to sustain daily life for a thriving populace. Settlement Archetypes allow Citizens to join your Guild, members that do not directly contribute to your Guild Population but benefit your Guild all the same.

Unlocking the Settlement Archetype unlocks a separate Settlement Management panel that allows the Founder Guildmaster to manage the Manatree of the Settlement, dedicate Construction Points (CP), and Research Points (RP) toward specific goals as well as to plan and build out a city.

Head spinning, Hal read through each of the descriptions more than once. He shut his eyes, digesting the information.

That was much more than he expected. What he thought would be little more than naming a group and inviting people – like an expanded party system – was something far more in-depth than he imagined.

It was a lot to process as well.

Over the next few hours, as the rays of morning began to peek above the eastern skyline, Hal explored as deeply as he could within the Guild systems.

Aside from a golden, jewel-encrusted coffer that appeared at Hal’s feet when he inquired about a Guild Bank, there were no major surprises. Just a lot of information that he could use to improve his understanding and management of his newfound Bravers Guild.

The Guild Bank was a physical item that only he, as the Guildmaster, could move or open unless he granted that permission to another. It could hold 200 items and the description heavily suggested it could be upgraded further.

Inventory within the Guild Bank could be managed remotely but to deposit or withdraw required a physical connection. As soon as everybody was awake, he’d transfer the items he was storing for the caravan as a whole into the coffer. Provided nobody objected.

For the first time, it occurred to him that perhaps the dwarves wouldn’t want to be part of his Guild. They had their own clan after all, why would they want another organizing structure?

Hal brushed those thoughts aside. There wasn’t anything he could do about it if they chose to decline but he was adamant in giving everybody an option to join if they wanted.

At first, he expected there to be heavy limitations to the number of people that could join. After all, his Guild was Level 0. That didn’t apparently matter. More likely, was that it was a sign of the scope of things to come.

His Level 0 Bravers Guild had a capacity of 140 members. The Guildmaster didn’t contribute to that number apparently, because he was able to invite the full 140 when the prompt was pulled up.

The options were robust as well. He could invite people in a specific area, those belonging to certain groups – such as the Bouldergut Clan, the koblins, or the Rangers – or invite people one at a time.

Deciding it was best not to wake everybody up at once, Hal held off on that for now.

The ability to configure various ranks and grant permissions was nothing special and Hal found himself immediately setting up a rank of Council for his immediate advisors.

To that rank, he afforded a great many permissions. Second only to his own.

More than a few things were hidden beyond later Guild Levels. When he looked at the Guild Status he saw a few items that had no explanation, presumably because he didn’t have access to those things yet.

[Guild Status]

Guild Name: Bravers

Emblem: N/A

Guildmaster: Hal Williams

Members: 0/140

Guild Level: 0

Experience: 0

Perks: 0

Guild Points: 0/0

Generation: 0/day

Territory: N/A

Alliance: N/A

Opposition: N/A

Guild Skills: N/A

Management games were one of the few guilty pleasures of his life back on Earth. Simulation games, city-builders, they were all a strange amount of fun to do.

But like with everything since coming to Aldim, he wondered whether that enjoyment would transfer to the reality of actually doing it. Magic was amazing, but it was terrifying as well. It wasn’t at all like any of the books, shows, or games.

He had a literal abomination inside of him, waiting to break free and destroy everything in his path in order to do so. It wasn’t as simple as attending a magical school and having fun while learning how to make things levitate with proper pronunciation.

It was hard work and often dangerous.

Would managing a Guild be any less dangerous?

44

“Figured I’d find you out here,” Noth said, coming to sit down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Hal shook his head. “Not lately, no.”

“Dreams are weird,” Noth agreed.

“It’s not the dreams, exactly.” Though his dreams were far stranger and more vivid since coming to Aldim.

“Then what?” She turned a quizzical glance his way.

He didn’t know how to explain without it sounding lame, so he just shrugged and said the truth. “I simply cannot sleep. It’s not anything particularly bothering me as far as I know… I just don’t need as much sleep as I used to.” He paused and shook his head. No, that wasn’t quite right. “I still want the sleep, but I can’t seem to find it.”

“That doesn’t make much sense.”

“Welcome to my life.”

Noth reached out and placed it on his shoulder. “If it helps, I am sorry you are going through something you do not wish to go through. I hear that expressing emotional solidarity with a person going through a hard time is good for bonding.”

“Kind of spoiled it at the end,” Hal said with a chuckle. His smile stopped her growing frown cold and she caught on to the fact that he was making light of it. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Her returning smile was a bright contrast to her usual dour and sullen mood. It did his heart well to see Noth smiling.

“How would you like to be the first person to join the Bravers Guild?” Hal asked.

Noth’s golden eyes brightened as they widened. Then they immediately thinned into suspicious slits. “Is this because I’m the first person you saw after you created it?”

Hal did well to keep his expression completely neutral, even going so far as to put on a look of betrayal. “Of course not.” It was a little bit. “I wanted you to be the first, is that so wrong?” He could have easily woke up the wagon since the sun was now a bright eye-watering crescent of blinding light in the east. But he had waited and spent the time alone.

Despite that, it felt right to offer it to Noth. In a short period of time, she had become a great deal closer to him than he would have ever expected. More to the point, she was the first one to come see him.

None of the others did that.

At her perpetual skepticism, he only offered a friendly smile and sent the Guild Invite over to her. Her expression changed again, to one of curiosity instead of concern.

It was an improvement, even if it wasn’t a major one.

Noth has accepted your Guild Invitation.

Noth is now Rank: Council.

She turned a hesitant smile on Hal. “That was kind of you.” With a glance toward the golden coffer at Hal’s feet, she added, “Even if you only offered it to me because I was the first person you saw.”

Hal motioned to the dwarves moving about. “I’ve seen them this entire time,” he reminded her.

Noth still didn’t fully believe him but she gave a curt nod and didn’t openly argue with him about it.

The caravan woke up steadily and in waves. Campfires were refueled and the smells of dozens of breakfasts being prepared filtered among the camp, waking up any stragglers that had stayed asleep.

Watching it all beside Noth, Hal had a strange sense of pride as everybody went about the beginning of their day. They set up tables, gathered around, and greeted everybody.

He always viewed the caravan as a disparate group of people performing a task but now he started to see them as something different. Something more akin to citizens of a small town.

What would they be like when they had homes? Neighborhoods and shops to go to? Parks to relax in?

“What’re you thinking about?” Noth asked, and by the sound of her voice, it wasn’t the first time she had posed the question.

Hal grinned and looked over at her. “The future.”

The rest of the morning was more of the same and over breakfast under the awning of his wagon, Hal offered Guild Invites to each of his friends. Though only those that had proven themselves were given the role of Council.

Vorax was given the role of Treasurer, to the enjoyment of everybody at the table. While Komachi, being the little furry egomaniac she was, was given the role Komachi.

“Komachi!” she happily chirped once Hal gave her that special role. It was, functionally, no different than the core role of the Guild. But that didn’t seem to matter.

His koblin friends were given the unique role of Koblin Advisors, and as much as Luda didn’t particularly seem to enjoy it, she was given the role of Oracle. Her followers were given roles based on their skills.

As much as Hal wanted to give Luda a role that was more appropriate for her based on her wants and needs, it was hard to argue with nearly every person there. Luda took it all in good graces, though he could tell the worry held just behind those sparkling blue eyes.

He would have to keep an eye on that situation and see how it developed.

Afterward, he gave an announcement just before they left. Standing atop a crate that was holding the Guild Bank coffer, he addressed the entire caravan.

“I don’t like to give speeches, so I’ll keep this blessedly short,” he said with a sheepish grin. A blush of nerves warmed his face and burned his ears as nearly a hundred eyes – mostly squinting, dwarvish ones – turned his way.

“That you all have come to join us is no small thing and I appreciate Clan Bouldergut’s friendship more than any of you can know. To that end, I would be proud to offer any of you who wish to take it, an invitation to my newly formed Guild, the Bravers. Join of your free will and know that your standing among the caravan does not change no matter your choice.”

With that, he stepped down and sent out an area-wide Guild Invite.

Faces brightened and perked up in surprise as the prompts washed over the dozens upon dozens of dwarves in the area. Rondo, of course, received one, as did the stowaway koblins. And he already gave the Rangers an elevated position. The bulk of the invites were for Durvin’s sturdy clan and he hoped they would accept it but he’d understand if they didn’t.

“Surprised ye ain’t scrapin’ yer balls on the ground with how heavy they must be, boy!” Durvin roared. He was loud enough for several nearby dwarves to give a hearty laugh. “Ye ain’t even think to ask me!” He raised one thickly muscled fist and shook it at Hal. “By the stones, yer an interestin’ sort!”

Durvin has accepted your Guild Invitation.

Durvin is now Rank: Council.

Without setting anything to private, anybody in the area would see when somebody joined the Guild. This was precisely what he was hoping would happen.

While he wouldn’t have been terribly upset if the dwarves preferred to stay within their clan only, that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to convince them. And there was no better way to convince a dwarf than with another dwarf.

Every dwarf in the caravan saw the same notification. Not just that Durvin – their clan’s patron – accepted the invite but that he was elevated to a position of esteem befitting his importance to the surly folk.

It had the desired effect and Hal was soon inundated with acceptance prompts.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 22(27).

+1% Party damage (+27%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+54%).

You learn Commanding Presence.

Commanding Presence

Effectively coordinating those in your group has made commands and tactics second-nature, allowing you to add another member to your party so long as you remain its Leader.

Party Members +1 (6 Total).

Finally, Hal thought. Not because he felt he deserved it, but because he was waiting for so long that he wondered if Thirty-seven might have been wrong about it.

Granted, he was also at 19 Leadership for a long time.

Apparently, getting a host of dwarves to join his Guild was leadership material. Which, he guessed it was. A part of him wondered just how much having the skill – as well as the boosted CHR – factored into the dwarves’ decision to join him.

Soon after, the caravan was up and rolling to the south and west.

With the way already mapped out, they were making good time. Everybody seemed a little bit happier, a little uplifted by the day’s events. Talk in the wagons seemed jovial and Hal heard more than one mug of “holy water” toasted to the Bravers.

Not a single dwarf rejected the offer.

It was an amazing turn of events that even his most optimistic projections failed to account for. The Guild was already gaining EXP as people performed their daily tasks.

The Guild EXP wasn’t anything major. Surely not enough to get another Guild Level so soon but it was already ticking up past 40 by the time the sun had climbed high into the sky that day.

“So what’re we going to branch out into first?” Mira asked excitedly at the table they were all seated at.

45

The wagon bumped and swayed, jostling dishes and anything not fastened down earlier in the day. Everybody at the table reflexively reached out to steady their cup of tea. A habit none of them would miss once they were back in proper, stationary buildings.

He was going to build a town. A real town. It still seemed like just a dream to him. Shaking his head to dispel the distracting, grin-inducing thoughts, he focused on Mira’s expectant face. In the weeks of travel, she grew out her hair, letting the shorn sides begin to grow out.

“You’re so spacey lately!” she complained. “Are you even paying attention, Hal?”

Hal waved off her playful attempt at poking him and shook his head. “It’s a lot to process. What were we talking about?”

“Well, in the lull about boring things like taxation and how we’re going to fund things, I had the brilliant idea to ask a very core and thought-evoking question: What branching Archetype are we going to choose first?”

“Mercantile wouldn’t be a bad choice,” Ashera said, taking a sip and eyeing the rest of the table over the lip of her mug.

Elora leaned back, crossed her arms over her chest, and snorted. “Adventure is the obvious choice. We’re in the middle of the wilds if you haven’t noticed and it’s about to get a lot more wild before we find a place to settle down.”

Angram nodded and leaned his elbows on the table, ruby eyes darting back and forth. “There are good reasons the Shiverglades are largely uninhabited.”

“Adventure does sound pretty good,” Mira hedged, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. She didn’t seem convinced.

Hal turned to Noth. Like many of their conversations, she stayed quiet and observant but rarely interacted. “What do you think, Noth?”

The once-Reaper started and blushed when she saw all eyes upon her. “I… think Authority would be a good branch to extend into.”

“Why’s that?” Hal asked, though he had a good enough idea.

He wouldn’t make his choice until he could see what the archetypes opened up. At the moment, they were grayed out. He couldn’t investigate them further because he didn’t have a Guild Perk to spend and his Guild was still Level 0.

In the event he couldn’t see any further than the names, he would likely find himself torn between Adventure and Authority.

“The way Hal described the Authority Archetype sounds like it would impact every aspect of the Guild no matter what branches we decide to follow later. Provided, we are not locked to a single branch?” Noth looked to Hal as she spoke and when he shook his head in answer she pressed on. “An overall improvement to the Guild would benefit all Guild actions and might make every specific Archetype more potent without locking us into anything specific.”

“Why wouldn’t we go pretty deep into Adventure?” Elora asked, but Hal noted that she was more intrigued than combative.

Noth shrugged and sipped her tea, gathering her thoughts. When she set the mug down, she looked at Elora. “I do not know much about the way things work on Aldim. I’m newer even than Hal, but it is my understanding that a great deal is hidden from you, yes?”

She motioned to Hal with a pale hand. “The description Hal has given of his own Fabled Classes is backed up by what you all have shared with me as I tried to learn the curious systems that govern life on this star. It would stand to reason then, that this Guild system is no different. We may unlock another Archetype that is currently hidden.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean that we couldn’t benefit from whatever the Adventure Archetype offers in the meantime,” Angram countered.

Noth inclined her head, conceding the point. “Be that as it may, Authority may have direct impacts to the core functionality of the Guild. A function that we have not fully understood. If we arrive at the Shiverglades and unlock a gathering or crafting Archetype of some sort and are in dire need of materials that may be better to use.

“And if the Authority Archetype has made it easier to acquire Guild Experience from more activities in any way, we would be able to pursue that new branch faster. Or we may find that the Settlement Archetype is of great importance, more so than any Adventure. The same would hold true.”

Ashera was nodding along, the silver filigree around her pointed ivory horns glinting in the light streaming in from the nearby windows. “She has a point.”

“Why, because we might want to make a bakery instead of killing things?” Mira asked.

“No,” Ashera said, shaking her head. “Because a point in Adventure would be wasted on Settlement or Mercantile even – at least as we sit here speculating on things neither of us fully understand – while a point in Authority would not.”

“If we were ten or twenty members strong, perhaps,” Elora said. “But we are many times more in number. We hardly need to be so parsimonious with how we grow the Guild at this early stage.”

Mira smacked the table and pointed at Elora. “Don’t you go using your big words on me, you know I’m dumb!”

Komachi snickered behind her paws at that. She then slid across the table on her belly towards Mira, jostling mugs out of her way.

Elora rolled her eyes at her. “We don’t need to be stingy.” She reached out a hand to Komachi and pet along her back as she passed by.

“Oh, yeah but we don’t know how much Guild Experience we need to Level Up, do we?” Mira asked. The little pobul lounged beside the Dragoon, sipping from her own tea mug between her dexterous paws.

Mira eyed her like she was up to something. The little furry pobul had begun to garner a well-deserved reputation for being quite the prankster. When it seemed that Komachi was just there to enjoy her company, Mira smiled down at her and slid a cookie toward her.

Komachi happily dunked it into her tea, proceeded to lose half of it in the tea, then discard said tea and ate the remaining cookie. She pointedly ignored the slowly dissolving cookie-tea mixture that she pushed toward Mira.

To which, Mira took a cue from Komachi and pointedly ignored it as well.

“That’s a good point,” Hal said. “As it stands I have no information about how much more we need or what the next Level might be.”

Ashera pursed her lips in thought. “I would not be surprised if a deeper understanding or awareness of the Guild was awarded through the Authority Archetype. It seems precisely the sort of thing that would do that, given the description.”

Back and forth they went for the rest of the day, discussing the various futures they might take. More than a few laughs were had at turning the Bravers into a Mercantile Guild, with Mira arguing that everything had a price.

It was amazing how quickly everybody shifted to thinking about the future, about the possibilities that were now open to them.

Even Elora seemed to look forward to what was to come. The realization of a dream finally on the cusp of coming to fruition. Hal couldn’t remember a day when he felt more uplifted.

Aldim had done a lot of kicking him when he was down. It always felt like the world was designed in such a way that as soon as he came close to achieving something good, he had to be stopped. Like it was some cruel twist of fate.

Not this time. He was used to having his hopes dashed, but he wouldn’t let it happen to those who had joined him. Whatever might come to stop him, he would meet it head-on.

And so, the next day he wasn’t terribly surprised when the caravan slowed and Yesel joined them in the wagon with a tight expression on her face.

“You’ll want to come and see this,” she told Hal.

In the middle of working on the third stage of his yet unnamed bone falchion, Hal nodded. “Only took a day,” he remarked with a wry grin.

It had been hard working on the weapon when he could feel the rising tension of something bad coming his way. That was the way of the world. For good or ill, Aldim didn’t seem content to let him gain something and be in peace.

Bone falchion in one hand, its empyreal shardite edge glinting in the midday sun, Hal followed Yesel to a spot a dozen yards from the caravan. As the color of the crystal edge shifted between yellow and blue, he looked southward to another caravan. This one smaller and in incredibly poor repair.

Even from the mile distance between them, Hal could make out a bit of movement. The carts formed a rough circle between two staggering towers of crystals.

They could go around the group and the pass between but it would add time to their trip and venture into territory not already mapped out. The alternative would be to press on and come within spitting distance of that other group.

“What would you like to do?” she asked, in a surprisingly deferential tone.

“Let’s see what they’re doing.” Though Hal knew they were here for the caravan, if not him. He saw them from the air not too long ago and he was surprised it took them this long to force a meeting.

“We could take a karak and ride out,” Yesel offered.

“No. We’ll meet them with the full force of the Guild. If they have something to say, they can say it in front of everybody.”

Tightening his grip on his falchion, Hal turned away and went back to his wagon. As the caravan started off again, he donned his armor and got ready for a fight.

There was no telling whether or not this group meant any harm but he doubted they would be out in the Mirrorlands – very clearly following them – for any peaceful reasons.

Slowing once more, Hal stood and formed up his party. Invites went out to Ashera, Noth, Elora, and Mira. Ashera gave him a skeptical look but she didn’t argue with him about it.

Angram kicked up his feet onto the table. “Shall I be the liaison, then?” he asked, already guessing at Hal’s plan.

“No,” Hal said with a grin, tossing him the last invite. At Angram’s surprised expression he added, “New Leadership perk. I can have six party members instead of five now.”

“About time,” the Ranger said, hopping to his feet.

“Go on ahead,” Hal said. “I’ll just be a second.”

46

Using Shifting Mask, Hal changed his appearance to his elven counterpart. A form he was getting comfortable with using.

“Are you really expecting a fight?” Ashera asked him as they strode down the slight incline. The towers of opaque purple-and-blue crystal cast them in shadow as they neared the other camp. Noting his disguise she added, “You think they know who you are, even out here?”

“Until we’ve got a bastion of safety, I don’t see the reason not to take a little precaution,” Hal said with an exaggerated wink. “The last thing I want is another brush with Hirash.”

Behind them, the Bouldergut Clan came out in force. Dozens of hairy bronze-bearded faces showing support by gripping battleaxes that gave off a dull gleam in the shadow.

Hal suppressed his grateful smile at seeing Durvin at the head of the group. He knew that the dwarven leader would be the first one to rush to join the battle if anything went wrong.

The closer they came to the wagons, however, the less Hal thought it would come to that.

Unlike their own wagons, which were new and expensive with modern conveniences that made the trip tolerable with a modicum of comfort, those before him were barely functional.

The wagons were more like canvas-covered carts. The wood was splintery and had long jagged rents in places. Canvas coverings flapped where they hadn’t been properly tied down.

Wagon wheels lay broken and shattered. Large bundles of canvas lay rolled up on the ground in odd haphazard positions.

Hal pulled up a dozen yards away from their camp. Though he didn’t complete the weapon yet, he used a scabbard from one of the dwarves to keep it fastened at his hip.

He would get a better scabbard made later. But for now, he wanted it close at hand without having to hold it.

The last thing Hal wanted was to start a fight with whoever was in the camp. Walking up to them with a show of force and waving a sword around was hardly one step removed from openly attacking them.

Only… nobody was coming out.

“Maybe they’re scared,” Mira offered, placing her shining halberd upright and leaning on it. She swayed back and forth like a little kid growing increasingly bored and about to start a tantrum. “You do have a whole bunch of angry little thick men behind us looking quite menacing.”

Hal suppressed a shudder. “Did you have to say it like that?”

Mira gave him an innocent smile and a little shrug.

“Let’s go see what’s going on,” Hal said, motioning them to follow. Instinctively he started to Splice aberration and eldritch essence. Something didn’t feel right and he wanted to be on guard.

His party fanned out around the blocking wagons. A shrill cry went up, and a bizarre tableau met Hal at the center of the circled wagons.

Karaks. Four of the riderless creatures were gathered at the center in all manner of plumage, though he noted most of them were either red or black.

They let out another shrill whistling cry and another four appeared from the covered wagons to surround them. Hal slowly took his hand away from his falchion and raised them non-threateningly.

The karaks behind them corralled them forward and the more Hal took in the scene the stranger things became.

What he thought were bundles of canvas were wrapped up bodies, in what appeared to be makeshift burial shrouds. Several weapons and discarded bits of armor littered the ground as if the entire caravan had been ransacked.

And the karaks. The karaks were moving with a swiftness of order and discipline that Hal had never seen before. The karaks that helped move the caravan along were brilliant creatures, but they mostly kept to themselves.

Their drivers formed tight bonds, as Hal witnessed between Lurklox and her karak who wouldn’t let anybody else sit in the driver’s seat without Lurklox beside them.

This was on an entirely different level. Not a single human was around and the karaks wore armor. Or, at least they attempted to cobble together bits and pieces that they strapped to themselves in order to resemble armor.

A few had what looked like short swords bound to their large taloned feet. And the blue-feathered karak at the center of the caravan was making high-pitched cries that the others were responding to.

“They’re hurt,” Ashera said in a hushed, pained voice.

Ushered in front of the large blue plumed karak, the wounded creature gave Hal a deeply mistrusting look and made a squawk at him. When Hal didn’t respond – because he couldn’t speak karak – the bird ruffled its feathers and stood taller.

The spike on its lopsided, ill-fitted helmet glinted threateningly, though Hal wasn’t convinced it could bring it to bear quickly enough. Not that he had even the slightest intention of fighting the karaks.

Especially not when he was able to see between the wide stance of the blue karak to the few huddled forms behind it. Young karaks, roughly half the size of the huge birds. Their yellow feathers were stained in blood and they made pitiful cooing sounds.

“I can’t understand you,” Hal said to the karak. “But I think you can understand me, right?” He kept his hands clear of his weapon and stopped Splicing.

The effect was immediate. The karaks relaxed by a few visible degrees, enough that Hal began to wonder if it was all a front. A defensive reaction to the sensation of his aberration and eldritch Essences.

He didn’t have much time to ponder their reaction because the lead karak squawked loudly and flapped its short wings in what Hal thought was acceptance.

I could really use Vorax’s help right about now, he thought. Then again, they might get spooked even more at the sight of the mimic.

Looking at his party, most of them weren’t the least bit concerned. Karaks were known to sometimes be rebellious or free-spirited but they were still karaks after all.

Even if these specific ones were well-trained, the six friends were confident enough in their own capabilities that even outnumbered 2 to 1, they felt safe.

Most of them looked on with varying degrees of concern and sympathy. Karaks were rare creatures, and for them to be alone was rarer yet. That they survived some calamitous event that befell the caravan was obvious.

Hal wasn’t about to rule out that they had a mutiny and killed the people currently wrapped in the burial shrouds. Though the way they treated the bodies, with a degree of respect considering the shrouds themselves, he doubted it.

“We don’t want a fight,” Hal continued, motioning to his friends to nod along. “If you need help… we have food and water. There is medicine.” Hal pointed back at the caravan. “We have people who can heal your wounds.”

The karaks looked at each other, conferring in low warbling calls back and forth to each other as they ignored the group and put their heads together in a huddle.

Looking around the wreck of the camp, there were several karaks organizing sacks of goods into piles. One of them was sorting through a pile of weaponry and gear even, discarding broken or damaged pieces to the side.

“This isn’t new,” Angram said, crossing his arms. “These karaks might have gone wild.”

Hal turned to him once he noticed the karaks largely ignored them now as they discussed whatever it is they had to discuss. “How do you mean?”

“I mean, they might have reverted to a wild state where they will accept no partners, no masters. I’ve heard of it before but it’s exceedingly rare. They’re too valuable usually to be wasted like that.”

“You think they’ll attack us?” Mira asked. She casually put her halberd up across her shoulders and looped her forearms over top, holding it in place.

Everybody gave the Dragoon a wide berth. She wasn’t the least bit threatening but she had a tendency to swing around. And with the halberd angled as it was, somebody was likely to get cut.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

“No,” Angram said, quick-stepping to get away from Mira. “I swear she’s going to cut somebody’s head off with that thing one day. What I meant is that they have been on their own for some time. The bodies have been cold for a while and look at the long raking claw marks on the wagons near the broken wheels.”

They all followed his gaze and now that he was looking for it, Hal saw what he was talking about. It reminded Hal of a child trying to use a screwdriver. There were long rents all along the paneling around the broken pieces.

“Are you saying….” Hal started, but Elora spoke over him.

“They tried to repair the wagon. That is so… precious.”

“Yes, well… as you can see the people here must have been gone for some days since by my guess. The cart over there, southwest of us? You can just barely see the stacked bodies inside. They were trying to transport them and must have broken down.”

“Have they been following us?” Hal wondered aloud.

“Kweh,” said the blue karak, lowering his large-beaked head to look Hal straight in the eye. The karak’s large dark eyes were sad and soulful. Even if he couldn’t communicate with words, Hal could feel the sorrow rolling off the lead karak.

Before Hal could say anything more, the karak flashed forward with that large scooped beak of his and with surprising accuracy nipped his sleeve without pinching his arm beneath.

The karak tugged him, again with alarming gentleness, toward a large chest that had countless scratches and impact marks. Several kitchen knives and other utensils were strewn about, broken and bent from the crude attempts at picking the lock.

When that failed, they had obviously tried to break it open by main force.

Hal looked up at the karak. “You want me to open this?”

The blue karak released him and looked straight into his eyes. “Kweh.”

47

The thought did cross his mind to just bash the thing open, but upon further inspection, the lock didn’t seem particularly complicated. Hal called over Mira and motioned to the lock. “Think you can pick it?”

“Why me?” she asked, trying a little too hard to sound offended.

“Because you look like you’ve done a lot of shady shirt,” Hal said flatly. “I meant shirt.” He gave an exasperated sigh and looked Mira straight in the eye. “You know I mean shirt and not shirt, right?”

Mira stared at him for a while, and just when she seemed about to reject that, she gave a curt nod. “Sure, that’s fair.” She set her halberd aside and knelt to the task.

In a few moments, she had the chest picked and opened.

“Better than I could have done,” Elora admitted.

The lithe elven woman merely shrugged and stepped back. They all did as the blue karak came forward and inspected the contents. There was some gold of course, but most of it looked like bandages and potions.

Hal spotted a few [Elixirs] glowing with their telltale purple-red inner light and several small [Health Potions] along with many others he didn’t know the name of.

As the karak used its beak to rifle through the contents, Hal caught Ashera moving her lips as she cataloged each of the items within.

Finding what he was after, the karak plucked it gently and held it out between his beak to Hal. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he wanted. Karaks were brilliant, but they lacked opposable thumbs.

Just the sort of thing you’d want to pop off the cork on a deep violet potion. Instead of taking the potion bottle back after Hal opened it, the karak led him back to the young wounded birds.

He ruffled his feathers and gently nudged them with his head. It reminded Hal of a cat gently headbutting to show its affection. The young karaks made sad, pained noises that tore at Hal’s heart.

In a flash he was by their sides, looking between the wounds and the potion he had. Up close, he saw that the blood that matted their feathers was somewhat old.

Lifting the feathers out of the way, eliciting a pained cry from the yellow-feathered karak, Hal saw the wound below. An angry, green-edged slash. That it was poisoned seemed obvious enough but the item he held in his hand was no traditional [Antidote].

The blue karak looked sharply at Hal but didn’t make any motion to stop him as he poured the bottle’s contents over the wound. Before his eyes, the green tinge vanished. The blood that came out was bright red.

Elora was at his side, another of the bottles in hand as well as a [Health Potion]. Her face was tight with sympathy and together the pair had the three curled up adolescent karaks breathing easier and without pain.

But they were young and tired from their ordeal. No sooner had their wounds been cured did they fall into a deep and restful slumber.

By then, several karaks were gathered around the group. Rather than threateningly watching them, there was a look of tentative interest. Even hope, though Hal could have been reading them entirely wrong.

He wasn’t sure how much cross-species emotions could be conveyed through the eyes.

The lead karak, after checking on the children, came over to regard Hal and Elora. It leaned forward very gently and bumped its head into Hal’s and then Elora’s, drawing a gasp from the girl.

At Hal’s curious look, she said, “They trust us. Or at least, do not consider us a threat.”

“Please tell me you have been able to speak to them this whole time and only wanted to hold out to make things awkward,” Hal said.

“No, but… oh.” Elora shook out her blonde hair. “Komachi probably can understand them. Vorax would too I bet. Karaks aren’t really monsters but you never know.”

Hal was shaking his head as soon as he heard the mimic’s name. “I don’t want to cause a problem.” He turned to the blue karak who was watching them with a faint air of amusement. “Go get Komachi.”

With a nod, Elora turned about and headed toward their caravan. She didn’t linger long and was back in short order with the sleepy brown-furred pobul resting comfortably on her shoulder.

“Can you speak with the karaks?” Elora asked Komachi.

The pobul gave her a sidelong look, then turned her warm lambent gaze on the karak. “Komachi.”

Hal suppressed a sigh.

What proceeded was a long drawn out conversation containing little more than a smattering of “warks,” “kwehs,” and of course, “komachis.” All spoken with varying inflection and at different levels of enthusiasm.

It all felt like some kind of grand cosmic joke played at his expense. Like pokemon talking to each other even though it made zero sense. Resigned to his lot in life, Hal waited until the karak and Komachi finished their discussion.

When it was over, Komachi slithered down into Elora’s waiting arms. “He says they lost their humans to monsters. But the humans were very keen to follow you so they thought they should do the same. Now they don’t know what to do.”

Hal looked to each of his friends then the blue karak. “Do you want to come with us? We have room if you want to travel alongside the caravan, and there are other karaks as well.”

“Ehhh,” Komachi said, twitching her many tiny whiskers. “These guys are kinda sketchy. Rogue karaks might try to corrupt our sweet, friendly birbs. Komachi loves her big birbs!”

“Then you’ll be there to keep them in line,” Angram said, leaning over to pat Komachi on the head.

The pobul scrunched up her little face and turtled her head a little to dodge Angram’s hand. Rolls of fur bunched up around her neck as she glared at him. The very suggestion of work was offensive.

“Kweh!” replied the karak, fluffing up its downy blue feathers on its chest.

With a final glare at Angram’s grinning face, Komachi stretched back out to normal. “He says, ‘Yes, but only if we remain independent. We will not be slaves. But we accept you as a friend of our tribe and will accompany you out of these accursed lands.’”

“He said all of that, with a single word?” Hal asked, skeptical.

“Bleh! We aren’t humans,” Komachi said, wagging a pad at him like a tiny finger. “Our communication is sophisticated and deep. You hear a single word because you’re a pleb.”

Hal rolled his eyes and looked back at the karak. “You’re welcome with the Bravers Guild so long as you wish to be.”

In response, the karak leaned forward and tilted its head down to expose the large feathery plumage atop its head. “Ya gotta touch your head to it,” Komachi said as if Hal was utterly uncultured.

Doing so, Hal was surprised at the prompt that showed up.

Kweh Gang Reputation Up!

New Rank: Kweh.

The Kweh Gang now views you as a trusted friend and will permit you to come and go within their territory as you please.

It took them the better part of an hour to strip the wagons of anything worth carrying. The karaks helped where they could. Several of them wore armor and equipment that was hastily cobbled together to fit on a karak. They stood nearby, imperious and alert like any true sentry might.

They acted more like people and the way they carried themselves with armor sets so intentionally disparate Hal couldn’t help but feel like they were trying to mimic classical Classes.

He saw a karak wearing a modified set of canvas robes with long slits in the sides for its wings to poke out. Another karak with black feathers stalked about with a modified saddle fit with several spellbooks strapped to the sides.

All of the bodies were stacked into one wagon and set ablaze as a final send off to the men and women who had been a part of the caravan. Hal couldn’t help but wonder who they were and why they were following him.

The incredibly good luck of finding a dozen karaks with four young adolescents was incredible. If he could convince them to stay, they could be a great help to the burgeoning Guild and soon-to-be Settlement.

Even with the karaks help, the sun was beginning to sink toward the western edge of the world when they finally put the destroyed wagon circle behind them.

As they set up for camp the tall pillar of smoke finally disappeared against the dark velvet of nightfall. True to his word, Hal had shown the karaks around to the dwarves that were in charge of food for the karaks. And they partook of the food alongside their working cousins.

Komachi elected to ride one of them and despite the pobul’s usually bratty-but-adorable nature, Hal found himself grinning at the spectacle. The Kweh Gang karaks, for all their eccentricities, were quite gentle and sweet.

It didn’t take long for the karak chicks to begin joining in the fun. They were about the same height as a dwarf and the surly men and women of Clan Bouldergut were more than happy to distract themselves from the fairly boring wagon ride.

As darkness began to fall in full, they searched for a defensible spot to set up camp. The trilling calls of the karaks and the deep belly-laughs of the dwarves were a piece of constant background music.

When they stopped to camp that night, Ashera sought Hal out with a concerned expression. She held a small tattered leather-bound booklet in one hand that was salvaged from the karak wagons. “We have a problem.”

48

Sitting at the table, reading by the light of a lamp, Hal thumbed through the tattered leather-bound diary.

“Fifty-thousand sparks?” Hal asked incredulously, tossing the book down onto the table. It slid halfway across the smooth polished surface, forcing Mira to pick up her mug to avoid it getting knocked over.

“That doesn’t seem the most important part to latch onto,” Elora said behind him.

“I know, but… really?” Hal couldn’t let it go. “Aren’t we worth a little more than a fifty-thousand bounty? I mean we’re a threat to Rinbast’s whole operation, aren’t we? One that slipped through his fingers back on Murkmire to boot. You’d think we’d command a higher price.”

Mira snickered, setting her mug atop the journal like it was a coaster. “Don’t lump me into that. This bounty is on you.”

Ashera placed a calming hand on Hal’s shoulder. “Perhaps we should be grateful Rinbast is still underestimating us.” Ashera looked at Mira as she emphasized the last word. “If one of us is targeted, we all are,” she reminded them.

“We have ranged far and wide,” Ashera continued, “our trail will be cold to many but the most experienced trackers. And any that hail from Murkmire may be less-than-ready to turn on somebody so recently in good standing.”

“She’s got a point on more than one count,” Mira said, taking a long draw from her mug and kicking her feet up onto the table. “The people we’re likely to run into looking for that sort of bounty aren’t the sort that will cause us much trouble. They’re the ones itching for payment of any kind, and the true professionals wouldn’t bat an eye at that price.”

“Is it normal,” Angram began, leaning against the wall of the wagon, “for run-down bounty hunters to have that many karaks? Their number is greater than our own and, if you forget, they were quite expensive.”

“That’s a fair point,” Hal said. “Why did they have so many karaks? The journal wasn’t very explicit. It was more of a mixed ledger talking about their rations, the people they had with them, and the most recent bounties they took.”

“Perhaps they stole them,” Ashera offered, though nobody - not even Ashera - seemed to buy into that.

Karaks weren’t stolen. They might leave a person’s service but they were never forcefully taken unless you attempted to enslave them and that was a harder process apparently than enslaving a person.

No matter Rinbast’s crimes, he did do well to utterly outlaw any form of overt slavery while instituting harsh penalties for even the attempt. Ironic that he essentially held Ashera as a slave.

Rules aren’t meant for the people in power, Hal reminded himself sourly.

“And will you be any different?” came Besal’s voice in the back of his head. “Will you shackle yourself to the lowest of your populace in the name of ‘fairness’?”

Hal ignored him. As of late Besal was more talkative than usual, even bordering on helpful at times.

“Back to the matter at hand,” Elora reminded him. “We have a bunch of karaks that were presumably loyal to their old crew. If they knew of the bounty hunters mission - a high probability - then they are also potentially aware that you were the target. What if they try to attack you?”

While Hal had still been in his elven disguise when they returned to the caravan, he had long-since let it wear off. The karaks didn’t seem surprised nor bothered.

They knew who he was, or at least it wouldn’t take long for the smart avians to figure it out.

Hal shook his head. “No, I don’t think they’re going to be a problem.”

“What makes you say that?” Noth said, sitting on her bunk and looking up from the book she was reading on loan from Rondo.

“Karaks aren’t dumb,” Hal said simply. “They might know I was the target of their friends, or whoever those bounty hunters were to them. Clearly, they cared for them, but if this was just a job and that job is now bust, why should they carry on in their stead?

“It’s not like we’re blood-enemies of those men and women. We had no hand - directly at least- in their deaths. Perhaps I’m underestimating them the same way Rinbast underestimates how big a bounty I should command-”

“Are you still on about that?” Angram asked with a chuckle.

“Yes.” Hal shot him a dismissive look and turned back to Noth. “But they aren’t human. The karaks, I mean. They may be treated similarly but I don’t see karaks roaming the streets on their own picking up groceries or getting a beer at the tavern.

“For all their human-like intellect they are still seen as animals. Perhaps very smart animals, but animals all the same.”

“What’re you getting at?” Elora asked, not seeing where Hal was going.

“He means that their troubles are different than our own,” Ashera answered, catching on to Hal’s train of thought. With a nod from Hal, she continued, “Karaks are smart and well-loved, but people still consider them property. As much as one could consider a karak property.

“At the same time, a karak is likely smart enough to be aware of the nature of their relationship with people. They are given safety and comfort in exchange for doing a job. It is a service they provide.

“Some may be loyal and close to other humans but that is likely not the case with all of them. And in that event, what should a karak do when they are faced with potential annihilation or joining with another group that has earned the trust of other karaks?”

“Ashera’s got the right of it,” Hal said.

Mira chuckled into her mug. “Are you suggesting we recruit the karaks like we would any other guild hopefuls?”

Elora’s doubting expression turned hopeful and wide-eyed. She loved karaks. And Komachi’s closeness to the newfound group, the Kweh Gang as they called themselves, no doubt played a role in easing her suspicions. Of course, she would be eager to put away her concerns.

It didn’t make the near one-eighty turnaround in her demeanor any less jarring.

Elora was out of the wagon before anybody could answer Mira with nothing more than a, “I’ll take care of it.”

“You think she can be objective?” Mira asked the group.

“I don’t think she’d let her love of animals - karaks particularly - cloud her judgment,” Hal answered, leaning back in his chair. “Not when it comes to the Guild’s safety.”

“Protective as a mother owlcat,” Ashera said with a smirk on her lips.

“Excuse me, a what?” Hal asked.

Ashera looked back at Hal. “An owlcat. Have you never seen one? They are very common in the north.”

Angram burst out laughing. “He has not seen one, clearly! He would recognize the saying. Not a soul alive would get between a mother owlcat and her cubs if they valued their life.”

“Or their limbs,” Ashera added.

“Well,” Hal said, standing up. “If that’s all, I’m going to walk the perimeter and stretch my legs while I contemplate my worth.”

As Hal left the wagon he could hear snippets of their conversation and Angram’s mirth-filled voice ask, “He’s never going to let that go, is he?”

“I am afraid not,” Ashera answered.

“He shouldn’t. That bounty is an insult,” Mira said with a chortle.

Out in the cool night air, Hal was alone with his thoughts for all of a minute before Noth came up beside him. “Mind if I walk alongside you?”

“Not at all.”

They left the ring of wagons behind and nodded to the sentries posted around the caravan. Some were situated atop the wagons for a vantage point, others sat by braziers warming themselves. They gave a wave or a nod back at Hal and Noth whenever they passed near.

In the distance, a faint rhythmic tink, tink, tink could be heard. As was often the case when they stopped for the night, the dwarves sent out prospectors to look for valuable minerals and most of all, [Shardite].

Not content with the massive haul they acquired after the Manastorm cleared, the dwarves were more than happy to haul off whatever valuables the Mirrorlands had.

“They’re very industrious,” Noth said, glancing toward the train of lit torches that marched off into the distance. Dwarven guards stood every dozen yards or so making sure the workers were protected and could find their way back to the caravan.

“From what I heard, they were getting bored being carried around without anything to do. A lot of the Bouldergut Clan are miners and smiths by trade. Durvin said that the Mirrorlands were a treasure trove of goods. And with the dwarves largely unable to do anything but sit in their wagons all day as we continue to the south, they elected to sleep during the day and work at night.”

“What a weird thing to do,” Noth commented as they passed within the warm light of one of the stand torches. The red glow of the flames was reflected off the crystalline rocky ground, throwing the light back and forth in a myriad of altered colors.

Hal was sure the torches were beacons that could be seen many miles away but he kept his thoughts to himself. Durvin knew his dwarves and knew the dangers better than Hal did.

The last thing he wanted to do was spoil his autonomy.

With the recent creation of the Bravers Guild, Hal felt several of the sturdy folk’s gaze on him often. Wondering what he would do with the newfound command and power.

So far, it had been nothing. He let everything work the way it had before, with the exception that the dwarves were given the option to donate any goods they found to the Guild Bank.

Unsurprisingly, none had so far.

Not that it bothered Hal much. He was still owed the “beard’s share,” a large cut of whatever the dwarves found. And now that he claimed it as his, they were honor-bound to see it done.

If there was one thing more important to a dwarf than “holy water,” singing bawdy songs, or making works of art out of metal, it was their honor.

49

It was surprisingly pleasant walking with Noth around the caravan’s perimeter. Aside from Luda - who Hal often forgot was there - she was one of the quietest people in the caravan.

Though Hal couldn’t shake the thought that she was attempting to resume her role at his protector. Somebody who watched over him despite his protestations that he was able to take care of himself.

The thought didn’t sit well with him and though he felt sure Noth would give him an honest answer if he asked her… he found he didn’t want to know.

Better to believe that their friendship was growing than to assume the worst.

He liked Noth quite a bit. It felt like he could be himself. The somewhat bumbling idiot that he was when he first came to Aldim. Before he was this supposed savior, before the hopes of a disenfranchised people rested on his shoulders.

“This is nice,” Noth remarked after a markedly long silence. The stars were bright and shining. The night sky was split by the bright bandlight and Aldim’s three moons were making their way home to the west.

“It is,” Hal agreed. “I like the company.”

Noth pretended not to hear him, but from the way her long pointed ears perked up Hal could tell that she was smiling. He didn’t dare ruin it by looking directly at her. Instead, he smiled at the stars and turned his gaze toward them.

“What will you do when we have a home?” Hal asked after some time had passed.

“I do not understand the question.” There was a hint of suspicion, of worry, in her voice.

Hal took a moment to think of a way to phrase his question better. A sturdy dwarf holding a crossbow several sizes too large for his bulky frame gave a nod at their passing.

In their wake, a dwarf was puffing and panting toward the caravan. Pushing along a wheelbarrow stacked high with glittering crystal under the sentry’s watchful eye.

“When we have a home, a Sanctum,” Hal corrected himself. “The dwarves are going to do what they do best: mine and build and make great things. Not for the glory of us necessarily - though now that they’re in the Guild they might - but for the sake of it. It is what they do. When we have a stable place this will be their chosen way of living. To mine and refine. To make, to improve.”

Hal turned to Noth, surprised to find her golden eyes so intent upon his face. “What is it you want to do? When we aren’t focused on immediately accomplishing the next goal or fending off a threat. What will you do?”

That gave Noth some pause. She put her hands behind her back, her black plated armor caught the light of the next passing torch and gleamed dully. “Do you require an answer?” she finally asked.

“I’m not following.”

“Is this a request by Hal the Guildmaster?”

So that was it. Hal shook his head. “No, this is a question from a friend.”

“I would like to explore,” she said honestly, a warm glow to her golden eyes. “I would like for us to go out and adventure the world. Particularly the area around our home. To tame it and explore its hidden depths. To find dungeons and evil that have taken root and excise it. That is what I want.”

“Us as in…?”

“You and I.”

“Nobody else?” Hal asked, a wry grin on his face.

“They can come if they like,” she said imperiously, looking at the stars.

Hal couldn’t help but laugh at that. Not only her demeanor but the tender way in which she dreamed of adventuring with him. It was sweet and kind and… exactly what he wanted to hear now that he thought about it.

Noth snapped her attention back to him. “Why do you laugh?” She sounded hurt. “I have seen your soul, Hal. I know it will not be content to lounge about in a palace and watch others do work for you.”

Shaking his head, Hal managed to get his laughing under control and placed a hand on her shoulder to quiet her growing voice. “I would love nothing more in all the worlds, Noth. Truly. I laughed because out of everybody, I think you might understand what I would enjoy doing. Building a Sanctum, even an empire is fine.

“What person doesn’t want to leave their mark on the world? To leave it better than when they found it? But I don’t want to rule in an ivory tower, watching others go about their lives. Seeing a town’s name and reducing its inhabitants to numbers on a spreadsheet.

“I want to walk the world, see the sights and delve into the darkest parts of the unknown. Don’t get me wrong. I will thoroughly enjoy helping to design and build our Sanctum. But I have no intention of staying there and ruling like a king. My goal for constructing a Sanctum is, if I’m being utterly honest, really quite selfish.”

Smiling at him, Noth asked, “And what goal might that be?”

With a shrug, Hal said, “So that I might throw myself into every dungeon, every battle, with reckless abandon. Safe in the knowledge that I will not die and that in my death I will not doom countless other people who are coming to rely on me.”

“And what shall you do when you have a wife, a Queen to your throne that you prefer to keep cold?” Noth asked. There was an intensity to her voice Hal didn’t expect.

“Why, are you offering?” he said with a grin. The look of shock and the bright coloring of her cheeks made Hal’s grin break out into a stupid smile. “To answer your question… any woman I fell in love with would be eager to be at my side. I would not suffer a Queen that would prefer to sit in the palace in expensive robes over one that reveled in getting dirty in a lost tomb of ancient design.”

That put Noth into a rather pensive mood. At first, Hal thought she had taken his words to be light and teasing and that she was sulking.

The longer they walked in silence the more he saw his words had an effect on her. He could almost see the thoughts stirring in her head. The same ones he often had when he allowed himself a free moment.

Images of deep, dark dungeons within the Shiverglades that nobody had mastered in generations. Rich veins of ore and unknown minerals in long-abandoned mines that would be reopened so that new works of art might be made.

A sprawling city where people could feel safe not just from the Manastorms and the monsters of the world but from their government.

Hal was committed to making an egalitarian society, as much as was within his power to control. But at the same time, he had no intention of sitting on his laurels, a king among kings.

He craved adventure. And with the Manatree safeguarding his life, he could have it. The dangers a normal ruler might have were gone. It would not be irresponsible or endangering his people to go out and explore or fight in battles. It would help them. And it would give him the life he secretly always wanted.

The life every young boy or girl reading fantastical works wanted. Even after those children grew up and took on boring day jobs, in their heart-of-hearts they still yearned for that adventure. For the escape into the unknown.

No child looked at the great works of writers, moviemakers, game creators, and thought to themselves, “yes, I would like to be an accountant instead.”

Fear of the unknown was a learned behavior.

Together, they made the rest of the circuit in companionable silence. They found half of the wagon already asleep or getting ready for bed when they returned. Elora was out with Komachi and the karaks of the Kweh Gang, talking by the light of one of the caravan’s many campfires.

Hal found what sleep he could but was unsurprised when he woke up a few hours later, the moons barely past Aldim’s glowing band in the sky.

Taking out his unfinished bone falchion, he tiptoed out of the wagon and to a nearby unoccupied campfire.

The blade glinted in the light of the campfire and Hal could feel a connection to it. The bone within was alive, connected to him. Examining it brought up the design prompt.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)

Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)

Damage: 34

Bonus Points: 12

Enchantments: 1

Durability: 700/700

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Sparks of light jumped up and down the surface of the weapon, harmless to his hand but not to anyone he attacked with it. The crystalline edge of the blade reminded him of an obsidian knife, rather jagged-looking but deceptively sharp. The [Empyreal Shardite] used for it shifted between blue and yellow depending on the angle.

“All right,” he muttered to himself. “Let’s see what we can do here.”

At 34 damage, the unfinished weapon was already far stronger than [Brilliance]. Though Hal had the sneaking suspicion that [Brilliance] was holding back on him. Perhaps in part because he was not a Paladin or that he simply was not Thirty-seven.

It hardly mattered now that the weapon was destroyed and all he had was a few shattered remnants of the blade and the hilt to remember it by. Curious, Hal removed one of the sharp segments of [Brilliance’s] wide blade.

Setting it on the flat side of the falchion balanced across his knees, Hal felt something within the blade resonate. He leaned into it, inquiring further and the dark bone of the blade began to soften.

With a slight push, the shard was swallowed by the suddenly marshmallowy soft bone. As soon as it disappeared beneath the surface the bone rippled and took on a silvery quasi-metallic hue.

It was still obviously bone but it now had a bright metallic sheen to it.

“That’s interesting….”

50

Examining the blade again, he discovered what had happened.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)

Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)

Damage: 34 -> 36

Crystal Lightning Damage: 10 -> 22

Bonus Points: 12/12

Enchantments: 1/1 -> 0/1

Ossified Metal

Durability: 700/700 -> 900/900

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Enchantment Discovered: Ossified Metal

By combining metal and bone, you have created a new element. Ossified metal has the strength of hardened steel but the lightness of bone. Applying this enchantment increases Damage, Durability, Lowers Weight, and makes the weapon exceptionally conductive. Conductive elemental effects are improved.

Improvement Statistics

Durability: B+

Damage: D

Special: B

So by adding an item, the shape and design of the weapon would remain the same at this stage but it could imbue it with an enchantment. Which made sense, considering the design stage was imbuement.

And by adding that same item, he was enacting an enchantment. Since the falchion only had one point for an enchantment, placing the shard of [Brilliance] within it to create Ossified Metal exhausted that enchantment point.

Which meant that there must be a way to have multiple enchantments.

Looking over his Inventory, Hal wondered what other types of enchantments he might be able to find. Simple trial and error could prove to be invaluable. Several items stood out as potentially offering an interesting enchantment.

His [Vials of Aberrant Blood], [Bundles of Crystalline Feathers], [Fragment of Flame], [Heart of Crystal], and his remaining [Empyreal Shardite] all seemed viable candidates.

And that didn’t touch on the obviously alchemical reagents in his possession.

Reaching into the weapon, Hal was able to pull free the shard of [Brilliance]. The bone falchion immediately reverted back to its old stats and appearance.

The highest potential among the items seemed to be the [Fragment of Flame]. Now that he knew for certain he could remove it - he seriously doubted he’d ever get another one - Hal placed the white chip onto the surface of the falchion.

After several tense moments, nothing happened. He pressed harder but it wouldn’t accept it. A prompt flashed across his vision.

Unable to accept secondary element. Skill too low.

So he could add another element, but only once his skill was higher? He wasn’t sure how it calculated his skill considering his Blades of Bone didn’t appear to be a crafting profession.

One after the other he tried the other ingredients but only three items worked. The [Heart of Crystal] was listed as simply incompatible. But the [Vial of Aberrant Blood], [Bundles of Crystalline Feathers], and the [Empyreal Shardite] all created different enchantments.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Heroic)

Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)

Damage: 34 -> 38

Crystal Lightning Damage: 10

Additional Effect: Poison

Bonus Points: 12/12

Enchantments: 1/1 -> 0/1

Toxic

Durability: 700/700 -> 300/300

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Enchantment Discovered: Toxic

The [Aberrant Blood] infused within the bone has made the item toxic. Upon contact, there is a high chance that the target will suffer a Poisoned status effect, taking damage over time. However, such conditions are not suited for longevity and while the strength of the item is empowered, its durability is severely degraded due to the corrupting blood.

Improvement Statistics

Damage: C

Special: A

The [Aberrant Blood] caused his falchion to ooze a caustic purple liquid, which looked deeply intimidating. The weapon was also more organic, with veins pulsing with the poisonous material crisscrossing the boney matter.

His other two items created different effects, but no less interesting. The feathers made his sword impossibly light. A faint wind seemed to wrap around the blade, empowering its speed so what even a half-hearted swing carried the force of a heavy chop.

The spine of the blade took on the shape of the feathers, now turned into osseous facsimiles.

Enchantment Discovered: Swift

Crystallized feathers have imbued the blade with unnatural swiftness and lightness. Akin to a bird taking flight, the feathers increase speed, damage, and dramatically reduce weight. As a side effect, durability is lowered.

Improvement Statistics

Damage: C+

Special: A

As much as Hal liked the Ossified Metal enchantment, his favorite was the Mana Condenser. The [Empyreal Shardite] changed the entire weapon to look less organic and more crystalline. The bone took on the blue-to-yellow shifting hue. Its smooth exterior became glassy and angular.

But most importantly, Hal could feel a hollowness within the blade. With a thought, he could feed his MP into the sword, empowering it further and storing the mana for another time if he chose to extract it.

When it was infused with his mana, the crystalline blade glowed and hummed with an inner light.

Enchantment Discovered: Mana Condenser

[Empyreal Shardite] is a known conduit of mana and magical effects. Infusing the crystalline substance into the bone matrix creates a new element. One of crystal and bone. In the spaces between the hollowed cells of marrow, crystalline channels have grown.

These channels can not only accept mana to empower the blade’s damage but can also condense that mana at a rate of 2 to 1, due to the refined nature of [Empyreal Shardite]. This mana can be extracted for use later. The unfortunate side effect is the weapon’s weight increases dramatically.

Improvement Statistics

Durability: C

Damage: F - B

Special: A+

There’s no way I’m not picking that. Hal confirmed the addition of the [Empyreal Shardite], noting that it took a total of ten pieces to complete the enchantment.

The variable damage was an interesting twist. No doubt it was a reflection of its ability to use MP to empower itself. If he could store mana within as the description suggested, then he could deal increased damage so long as the stored mana lasted.

Or he could keep the mana in there to draw it back out instead of resorting to a potion or Assimilation.

Before Hal turned toward the bonus points, he looked over the blade one more time to make sure everything was correct.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Fabled)

Design Process: Stage III (Imbuement)

Damage: 34 -> 34 - 45

Crystal Lightning Damage: 10 -> 10 - 15

Bonus Points: 12/12

Enchantments: 1/1 -> 0/1

Mana Condenser

Durability: 700/700 -> 750/750

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Enchantment: Mana Condenser

[Empyreal Shardite] is a known conduit of mana and magical effects. Infusing the crystalline substance into the bone matrix creates a new element. One of crystal-and-bone. In the spaces between the hollowed cells of marrow crystalline channels have grown.

These channels can not only accept mana to empower the blade’s damage but can also condense that mana at a rate of 2 to 1, due to the refined nature of [Empyreal Shardite]. This mana can be extracted for use later. The unfortunate side effect is the weapon’s weight increases dramatically.

Improvement Statistics

Durability: C

Damage: F – B

Special: A+

Hal ran his fingertips over the flat of the blade, feeling the texture of the crystal. It rose and fell with an interesting wavy pattern that caught the campfire light in its dazzling peaks.

[Bonus Points]

Allocate points to desired stats in order to increase them when the weapon is equipped.

Core stats cost 1 point.

Resistances cost 2 points.

Defensive Stats cost 3 points.

Skills cost 4 points.

Free Points: 12

Bonus points were fairly straight forward considering the trial-and-error portion of discovering enchantments. Though, now that he knew the various enchantments, he could apply them provided he had the items on hand.

Like learning recipes, they were stored for him. So that he didn’t need to remember every single ingredient that would be required.

Boosting any given skill 3 Levels was definitely something that caught his attention. But just like his Oath of the Brightking that gave him +5 Leadership, it didn’t award him another perk.

And while skills were powerful enough on their own, it was really hard to turn down 12 free stat points.

As a weapon he planned on improving whenever the chance came upon him, he could use it to shore up his weaknesses. Even if that meant breaking it down and remaking it now that he possessed a better understanding of the process. He doubted he would want any other weapon for any length of time beyond finding a way to infuse that newer, stronger weapon’s power into his own.

An idea struck him. One that seemed blatantly ridiculous at first but considering the way Aldim appeared to work, maybe there was some merit to it.

Creating bone with Blades of Bone in the manner that Hal was doing it seemed… unique. He got the impression that the weaponry was meant to be temporary and in the heat of battle. Similar to how he used it against the Manakeeper.

This felt… different. Like he was exploring something novel and new.

Moreover, the creation of bones and their inherent strength seemed intrinsically tied to the amount of MP spent on its creation. It stood to reason then, that 700 MP worth of creating a bone without any set features or use yet, a “blank” as it were, would be stronger than a 500 MP version.

He would need to thoroughly test the system, but if that was the case and bonus points were tied to the strength of the original product, then he might be able to game the system.

By allocating all 12 points to MND, Hal could increase his MP from his current capacity of 665, up to 725. The process to create a “blank” took about an hour, give or take. And with his higher MP regen, he’d have roughly 200 extra MP regenerated over that time frame, giving him a total investment of 900 MP.

If he was able to find a way to empower the weapon more, he might be able to bolster the MP boosting properties. Each item would have to be a sword, or perhaps an improvised weapon since those were the only two weaponry skills of note he possessed.

Those properties could be further boosted by using the Mana Condenser enchantment, allowing him to store even more MP. The process would be dreadfully slow but if it worked, he could potentially create stronger and stronger items.

By using a 700 MP weapon he might be able to create a 900 MP one, then use that 900 MP weapon to create a 1,100 MP weapon. On and on until either the bonuses stopped growing between each weapon or he hit some kind of limit.

Then, provided he had the time and the ingredients - as he only had 90 [Empyreal Shards] left - he could make a vastly superior weapon to his current one.

Given that they had many days of travel ahead of them and his “beard’s share” of the shardite was still unclaimed, Hal decided that would be his next big project.

51

Just as the first rays of morning peeked over the eastern horizon, Hal put all 12 bonus points into MND. He immediately felt the wellspring within himself deepen. His MP regen jumped up to 227.5/hr.

Seeing no further additions that could be made, he completed the third stage by pressing his palms flat against the handle on one end and near the tip of the curving blade.

Unnamed Bone Falchion Design (Fabled)

Design Process: Stage IV (Finalization)

Damage: 34 - 45

Crystal Lightning Damage: 10 - 15

Bonus Points: +12 MND

Enchantments: Mana Condenser

Durability: 750/750

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Enchantment: Mana Condenser

[Empyreal Shardite] is a known conduit of mana and magical effects. Infusing the crystalline substance into the bone matrix creates a new element. One of crystal-and-bone. In the spaces between the hollowed cells of marrow crystalline channels have grown.

These channels can not only accept mana to empower the blade’s damage but can also condense that mana at a rate of 2 to 1, due to the refined nature of [Empyreal Shardite]. This mana can be extracted for use later. The unfortunate side effect is the weapon’s weight increases dramatically.

Improvement Statistics

Durability: C

Damage: F – B

Special: A+

After confirming that he was finished, the next and final stage appeared. Unlike the others, this seemed to provide him with decent information. There still appeared to be a good deal of exploration left to do, judging by the higher grades but he was happy to have some information without having to fight for it.

[Finalization Stage]

Using your mana to seal your creation, you are able to impart upon it a fragment of your essence. For every layer of mana, there is a very low chance for an improvement in quality and weapon stats. Various Grades of mana impart unique benefits.

The more layers of mana placed upon an item the more difficult it is to control the quality, resulting in Mana Feedback. A damaging and potentially fatal reversal of mana that can harm both weapon and creator alike. The more layers applied within the Grade, the stronger the effect.

Grade 1 (1-10 Mana Layers): Unstable Weapon

Mana Feedback Chance: 1%

Unstable weapons are exceptionally powerful but are disproportionately frail, resulting in an item with high damage but also a high chance for a permanent break.

Grade 2 (11-20 Mana Layers): Stable Weapon

Mana Feedback Chance: 5%

Stable weapons have a bonus to their durability and their rate of wear is slower than other weapons but they require routine mana infusions to keep the effect up.

Grade 3 (21-50 Mana Layers): Keen Edge

Mana Feedback Chance: 10%

Accurately placing dozens of mana layers allows the creator to imbue an unnaturally sharp edge that slightly extends beyond the physical location, resulting in cuts that appear to come out of nowhere.

Grade 4 (51-75 Mana Layers): Thievesbane

Mana Feedback Chance: 25%

Imparting so much mana to an item attunes it to the creator - or the owner of the mana if it is not the creator’s – making it impossible to be wielded by anybody but the individual whose mana is used to seal the weapon. Anyone attempting to wield the weapon will find it readily turns on the would-be thief.

Grade 5 (76-100 Mana Layers): Recall

Mana Feedback Chance: 45%

With an even greater portion of mana invested into the weapon, it is possible for the owner to both sense the location of the weapon and recall it to their hand from up to a mile away. Any farther than that and the owner only has a vague awareness of direction but not the exact location.

Grade 6 (101-200 Mana Layers): Extension

Mana Feedback Chance: 65%

Overflowing with mana, the weapon is capable of creating an ethereal extension. Using mana in this way allows the wielder to project their weapon at up to twice its size, such that a 4-foot blade could extend to 8 feet in the blink of an eye.

Grade 7: ???

Grade 8: ???

Grade 9: ???

Grade 10: ???

Hal had to stop himself from instantly trying for a grade 6 attempt. The risk was simply too high for him right now. Without a weapon nearly as strong as this one, he couldn’t afford to lose it.

Also, it might kill him.

He felt that mana feedback was a result of carelessness. With enough concentration, he could severely mitigate the risk. It wasn’t necessarily a matter of going slow enough, the mana had to be deposited in a thin layer. And that could only be done quickly.

Like painting, if he took too long to deposit his mana it would clump and run, leading to an ineffective application that would go on to ruin any future layers he might make.

Every layer was built upon the preceding one. As he shut his eyes and focused, a stream of mana seeped out of his palms and into the blade.

The sword facilitated the movement of mana from one palm to the next, creating a circuit. As it did, a small amount of his mana was deposited evenly across the weapon.

But he couldn’t stop. If he slowed or paused for even a moment, he would ruin the whole thing. Like a thin imperceptible layer of lacquer, Hal continually pulsed his mana around the blade, sealing it and its magic within itself. It was an arduous process that took a surprising amount of concentration.

So attuned to the process and the weapon he created, Hal could feel every imperfection within the design. Every impurity stood out like a massive crack or bulge even though he knew by eye or touch it would be impossible to tell.

He only intended to get the weapon to grade 2 or 3.

Eyes closed, Hal was so focused that all distraction seemed to fall away. He fell into a deep meditative trance and by the time he realized he must have severely overshot his goal, he had already hit his 100th layer.

He could feel the straining buildup of his mana. Faint impurities in the way he did the first few layers threatened to break. It was that sensation of impending danger that snapped him out of the trance.

As he hastily completed the process to avoid a catastrophic mana feedback, he realized with a start that he missed breakfast. A plate of cooked sausages, cheese, and crusty bread lay cold on the small stool beside him.

He smiled at it and gratefully ate it, feeling rather ravenous after his labors. A prompt flashed across his vision.

[Finalization Stage]

Layering Complete.

Grade 5: Recall V

Recall Distance: 3 miles

Provide a name for your weapon to complete the item’s creation.

Hal thought about that for a moment. He tried to think of what a proper sounding sword would be. Nothing like Excalibur or something like that. He wanted a single word to describe the weapon.

Just as he was about to give up, the name came to him. Grinning stupidly at the double meaning of the word given the context, he completed the process by mentally inscribing the weapon’s name.

Bringing up the finalized inspection showed him a few pleasant surprises.

Emissary (Fabled)

Design Process: Stage IV (Finalization)

Damage: 37 - 48

Crystal Lightning Damage: 13 - 18

Bonus Points: +12 MND

Enchantments: Mana Condenser

Durability: 750/750

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Edge

Compressed Bone

Aspected Core (Crystal Manashard)

Most of the caravan was packing up, ready for another day of travel. Within a day or two they should be out of the Mirrorlands. And then everybody would be able to breathe a little easier.

The Mirrorlands were great for minerals and ore if the nightly hauls of the miners were any measure. But they were quickly eating into their stores of food and water. Hunting or gathering anything edible was almost impossible in the Mirrorlands.

And the still ponds of strange water didn’t engender any trust with their strange prismatic reflections and odd viscosity.

Luckily, the trip along the way there was bountiful with the Rangers constantly on alert to replenish and stock up on fresh meat and foraged food. It was through their efforts alone that each of the meals for the eighty-plus members of the Bravers Guild was as rich and delicious as it was.

Sheathing [Emissary] at his hip, Hal got up to help get his wagon ready for the road. Likely, everybody was already done with anything necessary and they were all sitting around enjoying a pot of tea.

I really miss coffee, Hal thought to himself.

It wasn’t that coffee was unknown on Aldim, but it was expensive and difficult to get ahold of. Tea, on the other hand, kept well over long distances. And as an Herbalist, Ashera was exceptionally skilled at both making it and brewing up unique blends.

As Hal trudged into the wagon, he was greeted by the warm scene that was becoming their morning ritual. He may have missed breakfast but he was glad he was still in time for morning tea.

Even if he would have preferred coffee.

“Ho, there you are, Hal!” Angram said, settling down into his seat. “When Ashera said not to disturb you I thought you were sick. What were you doing all by your lonesome? You looked like you were completely checked out.”

Instead of answering with words, Hal grinned and pulled out [Emissary]. Placing it on the table for them all to see, he took several steps back as each of them looked over the crystallized weapon. It was barely discernible from its simple boney origins.

Komachi slid on her belly towards the blade and sniffed it intently, her nose twitching. She looked up toward Hal and said, “I too study the way of the blade.” The pobul stared at him with the most profound, unfathomable gaze as she waited for him to get the joke.

Mira snickered first, but Hal wasn’t far behind as he smiled and shook his head at the strange little pobul.

He still needed to get a leather wrapping for the handle, something thin and form-fit to the grooves already present. Maybe one of the dwarves could help him with that. Somebody had to be a Leatherworker.

As everybody was studying the strange crystalline curved blade, Hal couldn’t help but test out the Recall ability. Focusing on his connection to the sword, he shut his eyes and called to it.

In a flash of light, it disappeared from the table, causing a brief disturbance that rattled their mugs and stirred a slight wind. The stunned expressions looked at the table then questioningly at Hal, only to stare agape at the weapon in his hand.

“You have got to teach me how you do that!” Mira cried excitedly as the pobul drummed her paws on the table in chorusing agreement.

52

The rest of the day and the one following, Hal spent all his free time working out new potential recipes and the limits of his Blades of Bone ability.

With the caravan settling into a comfortable pace as they retraced their path out of the Mirrorlands, Hal had a lot of time to himself.

Much of that time, he chose to spend in the wagon with Vorax nearby watching him. Whenever she wasn’t busy, Mira was at his side asking questions and in general, showing a surprising interest in something that wasn’t battle-related.

Sitting in front of the campfire nearest to Hal’s wagon had become a nightly ritual. One that was noticed by whoever it was that took care of the campfires. Hal made a mental note to find out who it was and thank them. They had clearly stoked his fire before he came out sometime in the dark of early morning when any normal person was asleep.

The dwarves, of course, were out in force. They had found a vein of [Empyreal Shardite] and were working overtime to get as much of it as they could. They even went as far as to request a delay in order to fully explore the vein.

A request Durvin had declined, but one that Hal was giving serious thought about. The yellow-blue shifting crystal was highly versatile and that made it valuable.

Despite its monetary value, Hal desired it for what it could do when combined with bone. By infusing bone with [Empyreal Shardite], he could dramatically strengthen the resulting item and give it a magical capacity.

Which begged the question: What if he focused on simply creating a piece of bone whose only purpose was to be filled with [Empyreal Shardite]? A goldsmith could easily carve a chunk of the stuff but more often than not it didn’t come in a large enough piece.

[Shardite] and its empyreal version were both surrounded by [Unrefined Crystal], useful on its own according to the miners but it made the resulting [Shardite] fractured. Most pieces were no larger than his thumb.

But when he placed them within the bone, the [Shardite] seemed to fuse together, using the ossified material to connect the disparate pieces.

The problem was Blades of Bone was oriented toward battle. Its main use was to fashion a weapon that could be used mid-battle or near enough.

Every design Hal could come up with to improve upon the ability felt like he was stepping further and further from its original intention. And as a result, he felt limited.

Making a mana battery was effectively impossible if he was tied specifically to only a weapon he knew of. Making a bone spear for Mira was also out of the question. The first few attempts were pathetically weak despite dumping over 800 MP into the “blank” of the item.

He lacked the skill - any skill really - with polearms or spears and Blades of Bone produced the appropriate result.

As he tried to come up with ways to make other items that were neither armor nor weapons, he kept running into a wall. A wall he was growing increasingly, frustratingly, familiar with as he worked to find any sort of loophole.

It was a good thing paper was in relatively abundant supply and was packed into the caravan in large amounts, because Hal was burning through it like mad. Every design he made would be tweaked and altered only to be further annotated when the design failed in its creation.

“Kweh?” Boco, the blue lead karak of the Kweh Gang inquired. He took one large clawed foot and flatted out one of Hal’s rough sketches of a charm or necklace he might be able to make.

Hal couldn’t understand the chirping tune of the karaks but he could guess by context easily enough. Motioning to the drawing on the flattened, shimmering purple grass, Hal said, “I’m trying to come up with a way to make trinkets and items that aren’t weapons but I can’t. Every time I try, it disintegrates or is so brittle a stiff wind cracks the bone.”

Boco let out a low whistling chirrup that sounded surprisingly sympathetic. The large karak bent down and used its beak to poke around the papers, flattening them out and looking them over as Hal continued to scribble.

After a while, Boco made a series of trilling noises that drew Hal from his current task. The karak had taken two of his drawings, one of a simple shortsword and another of a necklace.

Only, the karak had overlaid them atop each other and stabbed a hole through the necklace drawing so that it had the appearance of a trinket dangling from the end of the shortsword.

Tilting his head at Hal, the blue karak let out another, “Kweh?”

Furrowing his brow, Hal bent over and picked up the two pieces of paper. He redrew a simple version of each, wondering if the karak had figured out a loophole that had felt insurmountable. In his drawing at the end of the sword’s hilt was a chain that looped through the pommel and ended in a pendant.

Boco turned to him, gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek, and abruptly left.

Shaking his head, Hal almost bunched up the drawing wondering if the karak was just playing around with the papers.

The karak never once looked back at him to see what he was doing. Refusing to let a potentially good idea go to waste just because he thought he might have been reading too much into things, Hal went to work.

Shortswords were fairly easy for him to do now that he had some days of practice in. Rather than invest a large amount of mana, he chose to use a relatively small quantity, about a third of his total for its creation.

The result was understandably decent. Not impressive by any means, but serviceable.

What was interesting was the chain at the end with the pendant. Usually, anything that was deemed non-weaponry was brittle or disintegrated soon after it was made.

Hal gave the ossified chain a good tug and it held with surprising resolve. Inspecting it, he could find a few imperfections but nothing that jumped out as inherently catastrophic. The issues he found were well in line with what he would expect from using such a small amount of mana to create it.

Since it was still in the refinement stage, Hal could mold the bone like clay if he suffused his mana into the material and willed it to move.

The necklace was fully formed, but it was still looped through the pommel ring of the sword. With a small thread of mana feeding into the weapon, Hal broke open the ring of the pommel.

Gently as he could, fully expecting the necklace to crumble, Hal removed the thin chains of the necklace from the sword. He stared curiously at each.

Resting in his lap was the shortsword, and in his hand was a necklace made out of bone. Neither seemed damaged or weakened by the separation and yet clearly the necklace should not be possible as it was neither weapon nor armor.

When Hal sealed up the ring on the sword’s pommel a golden light swirled around him. Any papers he hadn’t weighed down flew everywhere. Several of his guildmates that were awake turned to gawk at the spectacle but Hal didn’t notice. He was staring at the prompt before his eyes.

New Craft Discovered: Bonecraft

In ages long past, people used to fashion items out of bones as the only ready-made material that was strong enough for their purposes. But procuring bones was a difficult task and one that required a great deal of preparation. As soon as proper woodworking and most of all smithing came into play, the craft was forgotten about.

But there is power in bones. The once-living material has found new life within your hands. As the re-discoverer of a lost art, you now have the ability to teach it to others. More than mere bones can be molded into usable materials. Claws, horns, and even the fabled dragon scales can be used to create wondrous works imbued with the power of their former owner.

As the discoverer, you gain the following benefits:

+10% Profession Experience Points | +10% Crafting Speed | +10% High-Quality Rate

As the Guildmaster of the Bravers, your Guild has received a permanent +10% Reputation bonus for this discovery.

New Trait: Dwarven Craftsman

Dwarves, no strangers to Crafting, always take notice when somebody blazes a new trail into the unknown. For reviving the long-forgotten Bonecrafting Profession, you have gained a level of fame and renown among all dwarf-kind. It is no small feat to revitalize a forgotten Craft and every dwarf will soon know your name.

Whenever you deal with a dwarf, regardless of your reputation with them or their clan, you are treated as somebody 2 reputation Levels higher than your current standing.

You have gained 800 Guild Experience.

The Bravers Guild has reached Level 1.

Guild Perks Available: 1.

You have now unlocked Guild Points.

Guild Points

Guilds generate a number of Guild Points per day, up to a given cap. Both the Guild Point generation and the cap are reliant upon the current Guild Level, the number of members, and any associated perks. Guild Points are used to execute various boons to the entire Guild within the Guild's Territory.

Current Guild Point Generation: 10/day

Current Guild Point Capacity: 200

You have unlocked Guild Territory.

Every guild possesses an area they claim as their own. Guild Skills function solely within their territory or within influence areas supported by sufficiently upgraded Guild Towers. Guild Territory is influenced by Guild Level, alliances or oppositions, any active perks, the number of members, and control of the territory around the guild’s base.

As a guild without a base, your territory radius is significantly reduced and centered upon the Guildmaster.

Current Guild Territory Radius: 2,112 feet (-60% from Caravan Type).

Guild Skill Unlocked: Regeneration

All guild members within the guild’s territory (or their influence area) have their HP regeneration rates increased by 50%.

Guild Point Cost: 10

Duration: 24hrs

Hal looked down at his palms. They were slightly glowing. “That is awesome.”

53

Hands still giving off a subtle glow, Hal brought up his Guild Menu and focused on his Guild Perks.

[Guild Perks]

Awarded every Guild Level, Guild Perks allow you, as the Guildmaster, to give direction and purpose to your guild. There are 4 base forms of Guild Archetypes to choose from: Mercantile, Adventure, Authority, and Settlement. As you presently lack an outpost, camp, or stationary base of operations along with the missing presence of a Manatree, the Settlement Archetype is unavailable to you.

Mercantile Archetype

Mercantile Guilds focus on the creation and acquiring of wealth or rare items. They are often specifically focused on one or two types of generation within a given skill set. Many Mercantile Guilds are formed around a singular discipline such as the Goldsmith's Guild, or the Alchemist's Guild.

The Perks associated with a Mercantile Guild revolve around increasing generation of goods or the acquirement of raw materials within the Guild Territory, as well as various boons to crafting quality.

Each Mercantile Guild Tier requires a certain amount of stored wealth in a Vault - which must be constructed prior to advancement - as well as rare items created or discovered.

Adventure Archetype

Focused on fighting and braving the wilds, an Adventure Guild is one of the most common types of Guilds because of its ease of expansion and requirements. All that is required for an Adventure Guild is a Guild Hall, and those willing to go out into the wilds and fight monsters.

Perks of the Adventure Guild Archetype involve boosts to damage, defense, exploration, and general capacity to improve the combat ability of its members within the Guild Territory.

Guild Tiers require a number of monsters slain, rare monsters slain, and in some cases, rare ingredients harvested from monsters or dungeons cleared.

Authority Archetype

The management and improvement of the Guild as a whole is achieved through the Authority Archetype. As an agnostic type, Authority allows for the Guild to grow without being constrained to the various requirements imposed upon by the specific Archetypes. As a result, its improvements are often more utilitarian in nature.

A cool night breeze swept in around Hal, ruffling hair as he thought about his options. He focused on the Authority Archetype. As he discussed it with his companions, that seemed the most likely choice for a starter perk.

[Authority Archetype]

Statistics 0/1

Statistics provide in-depth information to a guild's operations, providing insight to its current rate of production, settlement type, and stores.

Without statistics, none of the aforementioned information will be available through the Guild Status menu.

Expands the Guild Bank to 300 storage units and allows up to 2 Guild Chests that can draw items from the Guild Bank so long as they are within 1,000 feet of each other.

Production Rates: The current accumulation rate of various items per day. With the exception of rare items and food, all resources are calculated in tonnage. Food is calculated at a rate of enough food and water for a single person in a given day. Rare items are variable. Consumption values are included, providing a net positive or negative number.

Settlement Type: Settlements come in many shapes and sizes, from camps to outposts to metropolitan regions and everything in between. Each settlement type provides a unique set of bonuses and maluses. This view mode shows the attributes of the current settlement type, all values are on a per-day basis.

Stores: Without having to look into the Guild Bank, the stores section shows the remaining materials and items the guild has accumulated. Any positive production is placed within the Guild Bank, increasing the stores of those items. Negative production removes from the Guild Bank. It is also possible to list out the remaining days of supply for various items.

The Guild Chests were useful enough on their own. The efficiency of the dwarves’ nightly forays into the nearby region for valuable ore and stone could be dramatically increased. Without having to haul their finds back to camp, they could take a Guild Chest out with them and deposit the items into the expanded space within.

And that wasn’t touching on the deeper information it would afford him.

Hal looked back to the current status menu for the Guild, noting how little it actually told him.

[Guild Status]

Guild Name: Bravers

Emblem: N/A

Guildmaster: Hal Williams

Members: 87/140

Guild Level: 1

Experience: 135

To Next Level: 3,500

Perks: 1

Guild Points: 10/200

Generation: 10/day

Territory: 2,112 feet (-60% from Caravan Type)

Alliance: N/A

Opposition: N/A

Guild Skills:

Regeneration

+50% HP Regeneration within Territory/Influence

Cost: 10 Guild Points

Duration: 24 Hours

Effects:

+10% Reputation (Bonecraft Discovery)

Without having to see the other Archetypes, Hal knew this would be the one to choose first. If only for the Guild Chests which would be an amazing improvement not only to security but utility as well.

It wasn’t like he expected anybody within the Guild to try and steal from the Guild Bank but if he could keep it safe under Vorax’s ever-watchful eyes, he would sleep easier at night.

The Guild Chests could have food and other useful items in them for people to easily extract as they needed. He would need to talk to Durvin and the Guild at large about organizing their stores into the Guild Bank and subsequent Guild Chests.

He knew several wagons had duplicate stores and many of the wagons were filled to the brim with construction materials weighing them down. As a result, the entire caravan was slowed.

Hal’s mind was a whirlwind of thought when he placed the Guild Perk into Statistics. There were so many new things for him to consider, the Guild was only one of them. His discovery of Bonecrafting was another that he deeply wanted to explore.

No longer tethered to just weaponry that he was familiar with, Hal could now make almost anything his heart desired. Though he wondered what the difference would be between his Blades of Bone and Bonecrafting.

Soon after the Guild Perk was assigned, a pair of silver-chased oaken chests appeared at Hal’s feet. With a thought, he could dismiss or summon them. Provided they stayed within a 1,000 feet from the Guild Bank.

Opening the Guild Status again, he was expecting a bit more information but not that much. His mouth hung open as he parsed all the information before him in an easily digested format.

[Guild Status]

Guild Name: Bravers

Emblem: N/A

Guildmaster: Hal Williams

Members: 87/140

Guild Level: 1

Experience: 135

To Next Level: 3,500

Perks: 1

Guild Points: 10/200

Generation: 10/day

Territory: 2,112 feet (-60% from Caravan Type)

Alliance: N/A

Opposition: N/A

Guild Skills

Regeneration

+50% HP Regeneration within Territory/Influence

Cost: 10 Guild Points

Duration: 24 Hours

Guild Chests

2 Chests summoned within 1,000ft of Guild Bank

Effects:

+10% Reputation (Bonecraft Discovery)

[Statistics]

Production

Food: -12u (-2u from Caravan Type)

Stone: +2.1t (-0.7t from Caravan Type)

Settlement Type: Caravan

Consumption: +20%

Production: -25%

Influence Area: -60%

Stores

Food: 548u

Days Remaining: 45

Stone: 30t

Rough Stone: 15t

Stone Bricks: 5t

Dressed Stone: 7.4t

Unrefined Crystal: 6t

Shardite: 1.2t

Empyreal Shardite: 0.4t

Wood: 20t

Raw: 0t

Lumber: 20t

Metal: 5t

Copper: 1t

Iron: 2.5t

Steel: 0.5t

Silver: 0.7t

Gold: 0.3t

The food stores were something he was concerned about, even though Angram and the dwarves had repeatedly told him they were fine for well over a month. It would seem he worried for nothing. Though the production rate seemed odd to him.

From what he understood, the Mirrorlands hardly had anything they could forage or find to eat. And yet, they were only losing 12u of food a day. With the malus to production and consumption that the caravan settlement type inflicted on them, they were still gathering a great deal of food each day.

Taking a closer look, Hal could see the consumption rate as well as the base production rate.

[Statistics]

Food Production

Raw Production: 92 (-31u from Caravan type)

Consumption: 104u (+17u from Caravan Type)

Food Total: -12u (-2u from Caravan Type)

Stone Production

Raw Production: 3.3t (-1.1t from Caravan Type)

Consumption: 1.2t (+0.2t from Caravan Type)

Stone Total: +2.1t (-0.7t from Caravan Type)

Hal hissed when he saw how much food and stone they were losing each day from the caravan status. His brow furrowed at the stone consumption. Who the heck is using a ton of stone a day?

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The dwarves were producing a surprising amount of stone per day, even if they were using a ton on their own works. Which he wasn’t about to limit.

They would have no stone if not for the dwarves except that which they carried with them from Murkmire. On that note, Hal remembered his desire to organize the Guild Bank - which was practically empty at that point.

With so much data at his fingertips, he could make a big difference with the way the Guild worked. At the very least, he knew he could lighten a few wagons by placing all the goods - provided the dwarves didn’t object - within the bank and setting up Guild Chests for deposit and withdrawal across the caravan.

Even if the Guild Bank didn’t cut down on weight - as nearly every magically imbued storage system seemed to - it would still consolidate more than a couple wagon’s worth of materials into one.

That alone would be worth the effort if not for the organizational benefit.

Hal set off to find Durvin at once, only remembering halfway through his short trip to the surly dwarf’s wagon that it was still incredibly early.

A glance eastward toward the lightening sky told him he didn’t have long to wait and instead Hal found his attention settle on an older dwarf to the side of the glowing campfire.

The copper-bearded dwarf was bent over a piece of crystal with a telescoping monocle over one eye as he used a small tool to sculpt the glassy substance. Bit by bit the raw crystal became bright and faceted, shining in the campfire’s warm glow and reflecting across the grim and determined face of the dwarf.

54

Hal walked over and quietly watched, not wishing to disturb the grizzled dwarf. Up close he could see the individual ruddy veins on the man’s large hooked nose.

The dwarf’s mouth was nearly covered in the rough coppery whiskers that blossomed about his face and were tucked into his wide belt buckle. His hair was swept back and gathered into a single thick braid that draped down the back of the chair.

“Ye stare any longer, son and me hairy cheeks are liable to start blushing,” the dwarf said without looking up. He finished the final facet with a flick of his calloused and thick fingers. Fingers Hal never would have thought to have the fine motor skills to perform such beautiful work.

The world of Aldim never ceased to amaze him.

Hal chuckled and pulled up a seat offered by the dwarf. “I’ve never seen somebody do that,” he admitted.

The dwarf looked up at him with a steely gaze. Only when he popped off the telescoping monocle device did Hal realize that the man had two different colored eyes. One green as an emerald, the other purple as amethyst.

It was clear to Hal that the dwarf was trying to tell whether or not he was being facetious or not. With a loud dwarven snort -which sounded a lot like a bull about to charge - and a soft “Bah!” the dwarf relaxed and sat back in his seat. He rolled the faceted crystal in his stubby fingers, studying his work.

“I heared about ye,” he said at length. “Thought the other dwarfs were daft. Ain’t no way a human-” The dwarf leaned in and squinted his amethyst eye shut to regard him with the emerald-green one. “Ye are a human, ain’t ye?”

“Mostly,” Hal replied with a slight quirk of his lips.

“Ye, yer a weird ‘un all right.” Just when Hal thought the dwarf was going to get up and leave, he shot out his thick and muscular hand. His bare arms were corded with more muscle than Hal’s bicep, even though at 10 STR Hal had more muscle tone than most people who weren’t bodybuilders. “Name’s McDervish, Crag McDervish.”

Hal shook his hand, and the dwarf eyed him appreciatively. “Yer grip ain’t as flimsy as I thought it would be,” the dwarf added by way of explanation.

“Thanks?”

Crag merely shrugged his shoulders. “Just the way it is. So, why’re ye out here e’ery night, looking up at the stars like a fool elf?”

“Can’t sleep,” Hal answered simply.

The dwarf eyed him again, then nodded and pulled out a small silver engraved hip flask. “Ye, I know what that’s like.” He took a swig, wiped his lips with the back of his thick arm, and then handed the flask to Hal.

It was hard not to wipe the deeply discolored mouth of the flask. But Hal lifted it and took a swig, coughing almost immediately as the fiery and smoky elixir scoured all the taste from his tongue. His throat burned all the way down and felt like a chimney after a long and cold winter.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 23 (+5).

+1% Party Damage (28%).

+2% Leadership Efficacy (56%).

Bouldergut Clan Reputation: +2,200 (Extended Family)

Dwarves of this clan will offer you aid and shelter when in need. No dwarf will turn their back on you or deny a request for honest assistance. However, you are now considered part of their family and are expected to treat other dwarves with the same level of familial respect and aid them as they would aid you.

Dwarven Reputation: +1,100 (Curiosity).

Having gained a level of renown among a dwarven clan and not being of the bearded persuasion yourself has endeared you to the larger race of dwarves as a whole. Dwarves are more likely to hear out any requests you may have, offer you discounts on their goods, and when trespassing will beat you unconscious instead of simply killing you as they would anyone else.

Handing the flask back, Crag broke out in a deep belly-laugh. If he had warmed up to Hal before, he was now downright jovial. They talked for a while about Crag’s craft, he was a Goldsmith by trade and worked with all sorts of fine and precious materials.

The [Shardite] they pulled from the Mirrorlands was some of the finest quality he had seen in well over a century. He was practicing some designs on the [Unrefined Crystal] they often pulled up alongside the more expensive stuff.

Everything seemed to be a test with the dwarves. They would feign ignorance or act stupid if anybody ever called them out on it, using the stereotype of a “thick-headed dwarf” as a rather ingenious defense against their behavior.

For whatever reason, the dwarves took a shine to him. And the more he was around the surly folk, the more Hal enjoyed being around them.

Oh sure, they complained about the open sky and the constant rolling plains. Often they would nudge Hal and tell him about their dwarven homeland deep in the northern mountains.

They always spoke reverently of their underground homes. And how warm of a reception Hal would get if they ever returned. He would, by all accounts, be a bit of a curiosity among the dwarves.

Befriending Durvin Bouldergut was no small feat it seemed and that alone endeared him to the rest of the clan. Which, by way of dwarven “laws” meant that Hal was considered an extended - though very distant - relation to the rest of the dwarves.

Bidding his new friend goodbye, Hal got up and headed over to Durvin’s wagon long after the rest of the camp had woken up and started preparing for the day.

Cookpots were brought out, massive skillets laid upon iron tripods over the now brightly-burning campfires. The whole caravan filled with the bustle that heralded the start of a new day.

The wondrous scents of cooking filled the caravan and any late riser would be drawn out from the confines of their bedrolls soon enough.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Hal rapped soundly on Durvin’s wagon door.

It swung wide so fast that if Hal had continued to knock, his hand would have gotten wedged between the door and a series of tall barrels to the left.

“What’re ye fer?” Durvin bellowed. “Can’t ye see a dwarf be needing ‘is beauty rest!” His ranting was cut off as soon as he saw Hal’s wry expression. “Don’t ye start with yer sniggerin’ and snickerin’ boy! It’s too durned early for yer foolery! Tell me quick what ye want or get ye gone so I can fill me rumbling belly.”

Hal stepped back and ushered Durvin down from the wagon, following him to a seat not too far away. “I wanted to talk to you about the storage situation we currently have and how we could make it better.”

Durvin eyed him up and down, rubbed a thick fist into his crusty eyes to clear them, and blinked at Hal again. “Ye want what now?”

“I know that the Bouldergut Clan is still independent of the Guild,” Hal said, sitting down next to Durvin and placing his palms on his knees. “I’m fine with that and more than a little surprised that your clan wholeheartedly joined the Bravers.

“But our storage system could be dramatically improved. How many wagons do we have with duplicate stores just in case one gets attacked, ransacked, or somehow destroyed? Not to mention the weight and space constraints. How many dwarves are walking alongside the wagons rather than riding within?”

Durvin’s grumbling meant that Hal was on the right track.

“If you missed it, the Guild has risen to Level One and with it got a Guild Perk. I won’t bore you with all the details but as a Councilor, you have the authority to look over the detailed statistics of the Guild now. Go ahead, try it.”

“Durned fool,” Durvin muttered, which meant it came out at a completely audible volume for anybody within thirty feet. “Botherin’ me afore me belly’s full. Makin’ me-”

Durvin’s burnished bronze eyes went wide, all semblance of sleep or fatigue vanished in that one moment. He must have found the statistics menu Hal was talking about.

His thick lips moved about, his quickly growing beard quivered with each mouthed word as Durvin read everything that was there. “Dagdamora, boy! Ye know what ye got here?”

“I have an inkling,” Hal said with a smile. Talking with the dwarves never ceased to make him feel better.

They were so surly and grouchy that he couldn’t help but love them like a favored uncle. Ultimately they were loyal to a fault and understood the depths of honor and sacrifice better than anybody else could ever fathom. And if you were patient and tolerant enough to see through all their bluster and their crusty exterior you could see the warm beating heart of the people.

“We hire fancy-pants statisticians that do this kind of stuff over the course o’ days! And yer tellin’ me that we got this new-fangled thing… all o’ the time?”

Hal nodded.

Durvin slapped his knee and hooted. “Yer not fer knowin’ how much this’ll be a help to us, Hal! I find meself in a strangely good mood, and without a drop o’ holy water or meat in me belly. Go on, tell me what fool ideas ye got in yer head about storage and I’ll give it a listen.”

That was as good a deal as Hal could expect to get from Durvin.

And, despite what he said, Hal knew that even tired and cranky the grouchy dwarf would have given his idea its due attention. Not out of some strange sense of fealty because Hal was a Guildmaster. Which Durvin clearly didn’t much care about. Nor that he was a founder, which Durvin also didn’t care much about. At least not enough to apportion any sort of respect Hal didn’t earn.

It was because Durvin, for all his surliness, was ultimately fair-minded and equitable. And so Hal told him his idea about how he thought they could speed up the caravan's course.

Even if the only thing that they accomplished was allowing every single person to ride in a wagon without running or walking alongside it, they could shave a few days off their trip.

And if most of the dwarves were free to craft and use their materials without hopping from one wagon to the next? Then the Guild could generate some EXP in the meantime as well.

When they were done discussing it, Durvin held up one thick-fingered hand. “We’ll give ‘er a test once I talk to me craftsmen. They’re a right persnickety lot, very particular folk about who touches their stuff ye know. Ain’t right to just tell ‘em to place it somewhere they don’t control. It ain’t a reflection on ye, boy. Just the way it is.”

Hal had to accept that. He shook Durvin’s hand and once again offered the dwarf to come and eat with Hal’s wagon, to which he declined as he did every invitation. Hal shrugged and bid him to enjoy his breakfast in peace, then went to join his own wagon.

55

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Hal asked Elora.

She was petting Komachi, the pobul stretched out in her arms. Paws tucked beneath her, Komachi slumbered peacefully after having cleaned her plate of its contents and coming around to each of their plates to take her “Komachi Tax” as the pobul called it.

Everybody set aside a portion of their food for her, because no matter how much she ate she always seemed to want some of everybody else’s as well.

“For one, I didn’t know it was possible,” Elora countered. “And besides, I wasn’t sure it would be a good idea. Before it probably wouldn’t have mattered much with so many people walking. Besides, it takes a lot of Chonk.”

Elora had just finished explaining over breakfast that there might be a way to make the caravan move faster. After Hal told her about possibly consolidating enough space in the wagons for every person to ride at once, Elora mentioned an ability of Komachi’s that might be useful.

By using Bamboozle: Hurry, Komachi could increase the movement speed of everybody within a certain radius. Elora assured them that it would be enough to include all the wagons and even the Kweh Gang’s karaks.

But it wasn’t a flat increase, which meant a dwarf hurrying on the ground going 3 miles per hour was only going to go perhaps another mile faster. While a caravan moving at full speed - something they hadn’t been able to do in a long while - of about 12 miles per hour would be going nearly 4 miles per hour faster.

“The downside,” Elora said, petting along Komachi’s sleek body, “is that it takes around four Chonk an hour. If she keeps it up for twelve hours that’s forty-eight points of Chonk per day.”

“That doesn’t seem like a whole lot,” Angram said. “What’s the problem?”

Elora motioned to the breakfast. “This gave her two points of Chonk.” Despite her size, Komachi ate at least twice as much as each of them did. And that wasn’t terribly abnormal.

Hal wondered if there was a super-detailed version of the statistics screen. Would he see that Komachi took up three or more units of food per day compared to the single of anybody else?

The idea was more than a little funny. And it made him glad there wasn’t a group of otter-like pobuls running around that ate as much as Komachi. Then again, he mused, their adorable chirps and squeaks would be welcomed.

“So we need to feed her a lot,” Hal reasoned.

“At least twice the amount she ate now and then do that… every hour,” Elora said, looking at each of their faces as they all understood the gravity of her words.

Mira whistled. “That’s a lot of food.” She looked fondly at Komachi, like she was the most precious thing ever, and could do no wrong.

“The quality and type matters too,” Elora elaborated. “A normal meal, one that’s sized for her properly is worth about one point of Chonk. A hearty meal is double that. Something similar to Ashera’s Endura Stew would be about four points on its own.”

Angram stroked his chin with a thumb. “So what you’re saying is, if we had a master chef making quality food for Komachi, she’d get a lot more Chonk - that’s a ridiculous word, by the way - per meal?”

“That’s right,” Elora answered. She bent down and kissed Komachi on the head. Her whiskers twitched.

“Then it’s either quantity or quality,” Hal reasoned. “We can either give her several times the amount of simple fare that most of us eat for a meal. Or we can give her something special. I assume there’s a limit to how much she can eat. And that leaves us with finding a chef of high enough skill to make something of sufficient quality.”

“There’s more to it than that,” Elora said. She scratched behind Komachi’s ears, the little pobul chirped and muttered something in her sleep. “She has favorites. Or rather preferences… it’s all a bit strange because it changes from day to day. Yesterday she wanted eggs. And looking at my Wildsmaster information, I saw that it would give her a 50% boost to her Chonk if she got what she wanted.”

Mira looked at Elora flatly. “Are you saying Komachi has daily timers for her preferred food?”

Elora shrugged.

“Oh man, okay….” Mira rubbed her forehead and shook her head. “What about today then, what kind of food does she want?”

“Fish,” Elora answered.

“I think we have some salted and dried fish-” Ashera began but Elora was already shaking her head.

“Fried fish,” she elaborated. “It… just changed.”

Hal was certain there was something Elora wasn’t telling them. He couldn’t put his finger on it, though but he would not be surprised to learn that Komachi’s preferences changed simply because - even asleep - she didn’t like what Ashera had offered.

“Okay so, fried fish,” Ashera said. “If you will excuse me, I will go and look.”

“I know a dwarven baker,” Mira said, standing after watching Ashera leave. “Maybe he’ll know somebody who has some decent skill in cooking. Don’t get me wrong, Ashera’s food is wonderful. But I think we might need a professional to satisfy Komachi’s epic appetite.”

Noth, who up until then had been silent and content to watch everything got up as well. “I will go find Rondo, he has made many connections among the Bouldergut Clansmen.”

That left only Elora, Angram, and Hal at their customary table outside the wagon beneath the stretched out awning. Off to the side at another table, Luda was eating with her disciples, or whatever they called themselves. Seeing so many people leave Hal’s table she came over.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I couldn’t help but overhear that you are looking for a skilled chef. Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Hal said. “Know anybody?”

Luda pointed back at the older man with his hands folded contently over his non-existent belly with his eyes shut. “That is Horald,” Luda explained. “He was a master chef in the city he hails from. I am certain he would help if you asked him. Whatever the task.”

“Thank you, Luda,” Hal said, getting up as well. Luda joined him as he walked over to the older man. “How have you been lately?”

The small girl shrugged narrow shoulders. “I have been as well as-” Her sudden stop pulled Hal up short and he turned to look at her. Luda shook her red curls out. “I am sorry. I do not mean to sound so ungrateful. I am very well.”

“Why did you say it like that?” Hal asked, concern threading his voice. He knew Luda didn’t appreciate being an Oracle. He could hardly blame her. It seemed a heavy burden to bear and one that he knew little about but could guess at how stifling it must be for a young girl like her.

“Because I should be grateful,” she said, staring at her feet. “When I first found you, I expected the worst. Either we would be killed or sent on our way to die in the wilds. The slimmest hope was worth the assured death otherwise.

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would still be alive after all that happened. Much less part of a burgeoning Guild with its sights set on creating a Sanctum. It is… all so very much and I should be blessing the ground you and your companions walk on for making this possible.

“And yet, I am still bitter about my role in all this. A bystander who can do little else but try to stay as far out of your way as possible. My own appointed task, that of an Oracle, is not something I look forward to as… I have shared privately with you before. It is… hard not having anybody to talk about this with.”

Hal motioned to the campfire off to the side of their wagon. “I usually sit out here most nights late at night,” Hal explained to the questioning look Luda gave him. “Alone. I have offered this before but, if you find yourself troubled or just want a friendly ear you can speak your mind to, I’m here. And if you need some space to talk freely, well I’m sure a patrol around the perimeter of the wagons would do you good.”

Your Leadership has risen to Level 24(29).

+1% Party Damage (29%).

+2% Leadership Efficacy (58%).

Your Persuasion has risen to Level 15.

+1% Persuasion Chance (15%).

+0.5% Antagonistic Persuasion Chance (7.5%).

+5% Reputation gain (+15%).

-2% Reputation loss (-6%).

Luda’s crystalline-blue eyes teared up a little and she shook her head. Her freckles stood out sharper against her red blushing cheeks. “You would do that?”

Hal bit back the sarcastic reply, tempering his words with as much sincerity as he could inject into them. “Of course I would. The offer is a standing one,” he added. She hadn’t taken him up on his offer last time and this time Hal wanted to make sure she felt free to visit him whenever she needed.

It was hard to imagine what could have happened to the girl to make her take such a simple gesture as willing to let her speak her mind as something so profound. Hal wasn’t offering her any solutions.

He doubted there would be any guidance he could offer. He was barely eight years older than her, if that. She likely had more life experience than he did considering the way he lived on Earth. But he was willing to listen and not judge her.

Perhaps there was some value in that.

Together, they approached Horald who woke just as they arrived. The crystallized grass crunching below their feet would make it hard to sneak up on anybody in the camp.

“What can I do ye for?” he asked, making a gesture toward the Oracle Hal didn’t recognize. From the way Luda straightened and inclined her head in acceptance, it was some sort of religious thing.

Hal pulled up a chair to sit beside the man. He didn’t like standing over people, it made him feel uncomfortable. Like he was ordering people around. The notion didn’t sit well with him and probably never would.

56

Sitting next to Horald, Luda off to the side, Hal explained what he was looking for. What they needed if they were to hope to get to the Shiverglades sooner rather than later.

He was clear to tell Horald that it was far from necessary and that his cooperation was strictly voluntary. While it would dramatically speed up their progress, there was no pressing need to reach the Shiverglades a week or more early.

At least, no reason that Hal knew. They had plenty of food stores and supplies for the trip. The benefit of getting there sooner would be the ability to find and set up a camp before winter came on in full.

The further along they were in building the settlement when the current season of autumn transitioned into the chill of winter, the better. But a few days wouldn’t make a massive difference.

Clear as he was to explain this, Horald nearly jumped out of his seat and gave an awkward salute; a fist over his heart. “Whatever task ye set me to, I’ll do it with a full heart and a smile, my Lord.”

“Please don’t call me that,” Hal said, shaking his head.

Horald looked at Luda, then at Hal in confusion. “Ain’t ye planning on making a new settlement?”

“Yes.”

“And ye going to be leading the development of said settlement?” Horald pressed.

“…Yes.” Hal didn’t like where this was going.

“And I reckon it’s in an area beset by beasts and monsters alike. Ain’t no place that’s settled already, am I right?”

Hal nodded.

“They got a word for that, ye know,” he said with an exaggerated wink and a chuckle. “But if ye prefer not to use it, far be it from me to deny it to ye.” Horald ambled over to one of the supply wagons, but as he passed Hal he turned around and offered a crooked smile at him. His watery blue eyes twinkling with mirth. “At least, for as long as yer subjects allow it. That day’ll come, don’t ye doubt.”

Luda looked at Hal’s questioning gaze and merely shrugged. “He isn’t wrong,” she said as they turned to follow Horald. “Though the dwarves don’t speak of it much, we all know there’s a thin line between Founder and Lord. Or King, whatever title you like.”

“I don’t really want any of them,” Hal answered honestly. He wanted a safe place, a haven for those who, like him, just wanted a home. Of course, he wanted his home to be fair and egalitarian. It was his home after all and he wouldn’t want to make the same mistakes so many others would.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to rule over people.

The conversation with Noth replayed in his head. While he thought she was talking hypothetically, about a future that might never come true, Hal wasn’t so sure anymore.

After hearing what Horald, and now Luda had to say about the matter… he was starting to feel like the matter was already settled for him.

With a heavy sigh, Hal approached the stack of crates and barrels they kept most of their food in. Durvin was already there talking to a small black-bearded dwarf with a notepad. Tiny golden spectacles perched awkwardly on his askew nose that had been obviously broken many times in the past.

“This the lad?” the dwarf asked Durvin, pointing a thumb Hal’s way.

“That it is,” Durvin said with a snort. “ Don’t ye know yer own Guildmaster when ye see him ye dolt?”

The other dwarf scratched his beard awkwardly. “Always got me nose in the ledgers, ye see…”

“Bah!” Durvin said, smacking the dwarf hard on the shoulder. “Excuses don’t sit pretty on a dwarf!” Durvin motioned to the bespectacled dwarf again. “This here is Athagan Ashbrow, he looks after the other dwarfs and their goods. Go on, boy, show him what ye showed me with the Guild thingy.”

Hal brought up his Guild Menu and found Athagan Ashbrow, granting him the permission necessary to see the detailed statistics just as the Council could.

Athagan’s silver eyes widened and his spectacles nearly slipped off his nose. “Ye weren’t just blowin’ smoke up me bum!” he bellowed at Durvin, setting the dwarven leader to roar with laughter. “I thought ye were tryin’ ta give me bum hairs a wee lil’ twist!”

That made the two dwarves laugh all the harder. Horald was off to the side, looking over the crates full of food and spices. He looked up when the two dwarves started to laugh, shook his head and went back to searching.

“Are they usually like this?” Luda asked quietly.

“If we’re lucky,” Hal said, a smile plastered across his face. The antics of dwarves were nothing short of amusing.

After a few minutes went by, Hal cleared his throat to get the attention of Athagan. “What do you think?”

The dwarf made a dismissive motion with his hand. “If we can use all three hunnerd spaces ye got, I can empty four wagons worth o’ trouble. Ye look closely at these here Guild Banks?”

Hal shook his head. Aside from a cursory glance and placing a few items he was saving for the Guild as a whole, he didn’t examine them in any detail. Not yet at least.

“Ye ken how expanded space works?” Athagan asked Hal, hands on his wide squat hips.

“Bigger on the inside,” Hal said. “Some of them even reduce the weight of the items within right?”

“Most do,” Athagan said with a pleased nod. “The good ones reduce the weight to nothin’. Ye can’t very well have any weight if there ain’t nothin’ inside to weigh!” At Hal’s confused expression he shook his hairy mane of black hair.

“The best create a tiny lil’ pocket dimension. A lightless, airless place unless ye be makin’ it differently. Preserves most things for a good long time - even by dwarf standards! - but seein’ how that pocket dimension ain’t in our dimension, there ain’t no weight for the bag to get weighed down. Yer Guild Bank works the same way, but much more secure I reckon.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?” Hal asked, his expression brightening.

“Yer durned right it does!” Durvin bellowed. “Any dwarf not rightly workin’ at the moment is to get on the task of emptyin’ out the supplies into the Guild Bank.” He turned to Hal. “Ye get them Guild Chests out too and we’ll have three drop-offs for the stuff. We’ll get going a few hours later today but with every soul seated in their wagon comfortably and the wagons weighin’ a good deal less we’ll make up for it with our new speed!”

Hal summoned not only the Guild Bank but the Guild Chests as well after checking on Vorax and informing him of the decision. The mimic, of course, insisted on keeping a watchful eye over the Guild Bank to which Hal agreed.

With Vorax, watching over the proceedings as an opulent fourth gold-and-gem-studded chest, Hal turned to Horald. Together, they worked out what he would need to make the highest quality meal they could give to Komachi.

The morning was a busy, hectic one with people rushing to and fro. Mira struck out with her chef but her dwarven baker friend was more than happy to make something special for Komachi.

As was the chef that Rondo found within the dwarven ranks. Each of them pitched their ideas for wonderful dishes - things that they had ingredients for of course - and each one seemed to be trying to outdo the other chef.

With all the commotion within the camp, Komachi was awake and listening intently to each of the mouth-watering dishes, little paws absentmindedly fussing with a lock. It kept clacking as she failed to get it open. Every day Komachi would fuss with the large stone coffer she and Elora dragged back into camp on Komachi’s first day.

And every day she failed to get it to open. Much to her squonking and grumbling dismay.

It almost seemed like she was bending the rules because every new dish offered was another “favorite” that would earn 50% more Chonk.

It wasn’t the first time since meeting Komachi that Hal wondered if she was a little con artist, scamming them all with some unknown form of magic. But when the only things she seemed to want was affection and food, it was hard to hold it against her.

Even if she was using some sort of magic to get her way, she wasn’t hurting anybody. In fact, she was quickly becoming the Guild Mascot in truth and not just title.

Eventually, Hal had to call a stop to it and told them to make whatever they could that seemed best and let Komachi judge. And that’s when the idea to turn it into a healthy competition came to him.

“Any chef that wants to make something for Komachi will be able to enter,” Hal announced. “Komachi will judge the dish and award between zero and five ‘Komachi Points’, KP for short. You will, in turn, be able to use KP for special Guild privileges and requests.

“Things like being able to take a night off guard duty or to switch shifts with somebody else. I’ll detail the system later but for now, we’ll keep track of it with the Guild Menu.”

Simply announcing it seemed to do something. Hal felt a strange warm glow in the pit of his stomach. A ripple of light passed out from him and everybody in the caravan perked up at the prompt that was given to each of its eighty-seven members.

Guild Quest: Komachi’s Craving.

Komachi is in need of snacks. Each day you may turn in one piece of food with the required ingredient (changes daily) and have it judged by Komachi. Komachi Points (KP) will be awarded for every successful turn-in until a Settlement is made. Sate the tiny pobul’s hunger and gain even more KP!

Objectives

- Feed Komachi

- Daily Ingredient: Fish

Rewards

- 0-5 KP (Once per day)

- Guild Experience for every day Komachi is “Stuffed”

Hal looked at the prompt. “What did I just do?”

57

The caravan erupted into chaos as everybody started to grab ingredients and rush about. Athagan put a quick stop to that with one bellow and a pair of armored dwarves at his sides.

Orderly queues formed up then to get at the supplies instead of a mad dash for whatever they could get their hands on. Luckily, they had plenty of fish stored away in barrels specifically designed for them. Not just to store them but designed to keep the fish alive and fed in their own tiny ecosystem.

“Are these fish nurseries?” Hal asked, looking at the small baby fish swimming about in the barrel.

It was a good thing planning and acquiring the Caravan’s resources back at Murkmire wasn’t just up to him. He would’ve never thought to bring fish nursery barrels because he didn’t even know they existed.

“Yep, how else ye expect to carry the lil’ buggers o’er land?” Athagan asked.

That made a lot more sense then as to how they were generating food on a daily basis despite the Mirrorlands being nearly desolate. Though he didn’t doubt that the skilled and keen-eyed Rangers could find something even in this land, it couldn’t account for how much food production they had.

Having a caravan settlement type was horrible. Not only was the food production reduced, but the consumption was increased. It was like getting double taxed.

Once things settled down, Hal got a new prompt.

[Guild Quests]

As the Guildmaster you are capable of issuing Guild Quests to the rest of your Guild. You are limited to a number of Guild Quests available at once equal to your Guild’s Level. Perks within the Authority Archetype expand upon the depth and breadth of Guild Quests and your available amount.

Once a Guild Quest is completed, regardless of the stated reward, it will earn a variable amount of Guild Experience Points. In rare cases, the Guild Quest can award other things such as Guild Points, or even a Guild Perk.

[Guild Customization]

You have proposed the creation of a new resource for your Guild. As the Guildmaster, you are capable of keeping track of a variety of different point and redemption systems equal to your Guild Level.

Would you like to introduce Komachi Points (KP) into the Bravers Guild?

Now that he thought about it, having it automatically tracked would be so much better. He immediately agreed and felt a brief swirl of warm wind flow around him.

Komachi sprang away from Elora and made an alarmingly fast beeline for Hal. Before he could do more than register the swift-moving pobul, she was shimmying up his legs and clinging to his forearm with all four tiny paws. She made a face, nose scrunching up like something smelled, then sneezed gunky snot all over his arm.

“Komachi likes new quest!” Looking up to him with mischievous affection, she squeezed Hal with a surprising amount of strength. Her sweet chirping voice dropped to a whisper. “But no worshipping Komachi. Komachi not gonna deal with that again.”

“…What do you mean?” Hal asked, truly curious now. He ignored the snot on his sleeve and pet along her sleek and smooth fur.

For as much trouble as the little pobul caused, Hal loved her and her ridiculous antics. How could he not?

“Nothing!” Komachi chirped, buffing out some boogers on his arm. “If I see any statues we gonna have a beef, a big ol’ stinky beef.”

With that, Komachi sprang away and ran back to Elora leaving Hal even more confused than before. It was always a gamble whenever he interacted with Komachi. While she was no longer aloof with him, it was nearly a fifty-fifty chance she would sneeze on him or hug him.

Or both.

Luda looked at him, then the trailing figure of Komachi. “She’s much more than she seems,” she said.

Hal started, having forgotten all about her again in the chaos of the morning. “You’re telling me.”

It didn’t take long for things to get sorted out. And they were soon on their way again headed southward toward the Shiverglades. Komachi had tasted four separate dishes before the sun rose to its zenith.

A tuna casserole she rated at “four Komachis” which Hal took to mean 4KP. From the dwarven baker Pasir Brawnhands, a surprising dessert of anchovies made into a sort of cake that Komachi awarded 5 KP. The next dish was, a pair of fish kebabs that she gave 3 KP.

And finally, a koblin with a rumpled chef hat all askew on top of his mask approached Komachi and held out a bowl of white powder.

Nervous, Hal looked at the dish skeptically. Koblins weren’t exactly known for their delicacies or culinary skill.

Dipping a paw into the bowl, Komachi coated her tiny brown pads with some of the white powder. She licked her paw and her small otter eyes went wide.

Without another word, Komachi dove her face into the bowl and ravenously ate as much as she could. She surfaced, caked in white powder like she just dived through a bank of snow, long enough to award 5 KP to the koblin.

Seeing Hal’s worried expression the koblin looked up at him. “Is just sugar,” he said with a shrug of his tiny shoulders.

Hal chuckled at that. It may not be a culinary masterpiece, but the koblin sure knew his target audience well.

The food was, by all accounts, very high quality and smelled amazing. The cooks were kind enough to make a little extra for themselves, the other chefs, and Hal’s group.

The result was a surprising amount of Chonk gained by Komachi. After the first meal, the casserole, she gained a full 30 points of Chonk. Almost enough to fuel an entire day’s worth of travel.

Elora wasted no time asking her to enact the magic and an expanding sphere of green energy engulfed the caravan as they went about their way. Everywhere the sphere touched the people within sped up.

The Karaks were already pulling much lighter wagons thanks to the Guild Bank but now with Komachi’s magic, they were moving at an amazing pace.

Area Effect: Bamboozle: Hurry.

Movement speed +25%.

Later in the day as they were looking for a place to camp for the night, Hal glanced up from the piece of bone he was working on to spy Komachi - quite a bit chubbier than normal - groaning and holding her belly.

Elora was petting her soothingly. “You ate too much again, didn’t you?” she chided but there was no real heat in it. Komachi only groaned in response.

That was their last night in the Mirrorlands, and as a result, the dwarves were not about to let their last mining foray be for naught. Fully two-thirds of their number went out with the pair of Guild Chests and mined until the sun came up. Safe in the knowledge that the next day they could rest in the wagons comfortably and sleep soundly while the world rolled on beneath them.

The appearance of the green rolling hills that greeted them to the south was a welcome sight. With more room in most wagons, people took to conversing and working on various personal projects.

While the Guild Bank remained under Vorax’s explicit protection beneath Hal’s bunk, the two Guild Chests were separated out to two supply wagons. The wagons themselves were stripped almost bare and over the course of the next few days were converted into mobile workshops.

Every dwarf that wanted to get some actual work done instead of snoozing or lazing about could sign up to one of the supply wagons and work at the tables there. Several of the inventive koblins were in there day and night. The small creatures had formed a tight bond with the industrious dwarves of the Bouldergut Clan. What they lacked in strength or mechanical knowledge, they more than made up with infinitely inventive ideas.

Several chimneys were added to the house-like shape of the wagons. Hal had to caution against any further modifications, such as connecting three or more of the wagons with pivoting bridges so even more dwarves could get work done. He reminded them that the Shiverglades were not conducive to a long train of heavy wagons all tied together.

The mention of that place - their ultimate destination - sobered a lot of the dwarves and their koblin friends. Their high-flying ideas became more grounded in reality. Though by the end of the first week out of the Mirrorlands and with the sight of the Barrier Peaks to the southeast, the supply wagons had more chimneys than they did shingled roof.

Hal passed the week in relative comfort and peace. The caravan was attacked from time to time but never anything organized or troubling beyond the oversized local wildlife.

He spent most of his time working on Alchemy and Bonecrafting, mixing in a good deal of sparring practice with anybody who would have him. Often it was with the Rangers, to help him work on his swordplay and footwork. But more than one night was filled with dwarven curses and the ring of Hal’s crystalline [Emissary] against that of a battle-hardened dwarven axe.

The Kweh Gang went out with the patrols, shadowing the dwarves, the koblins, and those of the Rangers that permitted their company with surprising efficacy. Several of their members began to wear armaments and equipment strangely alike to those they followed about.

One particularly industrious black karak that followed a dwarven smith around had small hammers hanging from his makeshift saddle. Whenever the smith would grumble and look for a hammer, he would find it handily in place on the karak’s straps.

A green-feathered karak took to following Yesel about, even allowing her to ride on its back so they could get about faster. Hal had no idea where the birds were getting their equipment from but every time he saw Yesel and the karak the bird looked more and more like a Ranger.

Deep green cloth hung over its avian form. A white-hemmed hood covered its long neck and head so that as soon as Yesel and the bird went into the woods they disappeared.

Buffrix had a particularly close bond with a karak that originally took to wearing a set of robes. The longer the two were in contact, the more the karak changed. Buffrix was often seen with needle and fabric in hand, sewing triangular red patterns along the fringe of a white robe fitted for a karak. With a gnarled staff tucked under one wing.

The Kweh’s Gang leader, Boco Bluefeather, followed Hal around more than anybody else. He never asked to ride the bird, and the karak never seemed to offer but the bird did appear to enjoy his company. Often watching over his shoulder as he worked on improving his Bonecrafting under the light of the stars.

And Hal was more than happy to share the quiet early-morning hours which only grew longer as he was able to find less and less sleep. Unfortunately, Luda still hadn’t taken him up on his offer.

As they left the Feltin Plains and crossed a wide river with little difficulty thanks to the inventive koblins, industrious dwarves, and several tons of lumber, they passed into the Glitterwood.

A beautiful place named so because of its relative proximity to the Mirrorlands. Something of that place seemed to have a slight effect on the trees in the sprawling forest because they held a faint shimmer.

The canopy overhead was dark as night and in that darkness, their trunks shimmered like the stars with tiny motes of reflective matter that glinted in their lamplight.

Of course, the Glitterwood was also home to a very territorial and hideously fast group of horse-sized spiders that many at first confused their glinting eyes to be more trees.

They hurried on through the night, beset by the arachnids that descended from silver shining strands of silk. Fire burned their nests, filled with the same deceptive glittering beauty as the forest, and the caravan only suffered a few casualties.

Thankfully, none of them proved fatal. Though that was more to the credit of the sturdy dwarves than a comment on the lethality of the horrible spiders. And in no small part to the efforts of Buffrix and his apprentice karak.

That first night they were attacked, the whole Guild picked up stakes and fled with all haste until the woods were a distant memory. Though many dwarves, after seeing the splendid loot given by the disturbing monsters, were keen to mark well the area for future expeditions.

The silk the spiders dropped, among many jewels taken from wayward travelers and merchants, was highly prized. As light as a feather and stronger than steel, the silk was an excellent companion to the gear the Bouldergut Clan fashioned.

Even better, due to the massive size of the spiders, the amount of silk they dropped was equal to a whole year’s production elsewhere.

Having rebuilt his cache of EXP for Founder Sigils, Hal had enough EXP to hit Level 19 Beastborne. Fighting a forest full of spiders was harrowing and he nearly resorted to Dominate but by trusting in his Guild he not only reserved his store of EXP but gained even more.

Besides, they really didn’t like his Bomb Toss spell. Despite the liberal use of Beast Magic, he only managed to raise it to 24.

And though he read the [Balesian Codex] whenever he had a spare moment - which wasn’t often lately - he still could not make out anymore Sigils. The two Thirty-Seven had pointed out seemed just as elusive as before.

Revitalized by the Level Up of Beastborne, Hal tossed his attribute points into MND. Gaining ever more ground towards his goal of 1,000 MP. Afterward, took a quick look at his status sheet to make sure everything was as it should be.

Beastborne reaches Level 19.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

[Status]

Hal Williams

Level: 41

Discordant Stone: 11,767 /55,000

Strain: 0/50

BP: 15/15

Classes

Beastborne: 19

Oathforger: 12

Novice: 10

Resources

HP: 565/565 (+75)

SP: 475/475

MP: 740/740 (+75)

Attributes

STR: 10 (+2)

VIT: 30

DEX: 10 (+2)

AGI: 10 (+2)

INT: 52 (+7)

MND: 60 (+5)

CHR: 40 (+14)

Regeneration

HP/hr: 84.2

SP/hr: 67.3

MP/hr: 211.1

Resistances

Fire: 25

Ice: 0

Wind: 0

Earth: 0

Lightning: 0

Water: -25

Light: 0

Dark: 0

Defensive Properties

DEF: 51

MDEF: 42

Insulation: 35

Modifiers

+10% Movement Speed [Leaping Boots].

+10 MP per kill [Spaulder of the Ravenblessed].

Monster Affinity

Beastmen

Goblin: 300%

Arcana

Shadow: 325%

Mimic: 125%

Doll: 105%

Undead

Aberration: 425%

Plantoid

Treant: 285%

Planttrap: 15%

Outsider

Eldritch: 600%

Vermin

Insect: 75%

Spider: 125%

Class Affinity

Warrior: 100%

Thief: 90%

Survival Skills

Stealth: 7

Darkvision: 6

Survival: 4

Perception: 18

Investigation: 14

Manatree: 6

Combat Skills

Improvised Weaponry: 16

Sword: 17

Parry: 8

Evasion: 14

Magic Skills

Enfeebling: 18

Beast Magic: 24

Crafting Skills

Alchemy: 10

Bonecrafting: 4

Social Skills

Leadership: 24 (+5)

Persuasion: 15

Exploration: 7

Deception: 7

Mercantile: 2

Intimidation: 3

Still no raise in my Burden. Oh well, maybe next Level.

By the time they camped in the shadow of the Barrier Peaks, Hal was averaging barely 3 hours of sleep a night. And as far as he could tell, suffering no ill-effects.

They were following a river as it bent toward the south through the wide-open fields that didn’t seem to have a name. Not even Hal’s magical map was able to tell what the area was. The river bent around the southern leg of the Barrier Peaks. A place that Angram assured him was a narrow pass into the Shiverglades, though from their camp he couldn’t tell.

“One more day,” Angram said, looking southward with a nod.

58

Empowered by Convergence, Hal quick-stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding Mira’s countering thrust. The elven Dragoon choked up on the handle of her wooden spear and pivoted faster than Hal had ever seen her move before.

With a twist of her hips and a levering force on the pole, she had Hal in her sights again. Hal brought his sword up and around in a wide arcing swing to bat the spear out wide but he was slower than Mira’s thrust. He only managed to make it a non-lethal blow.

But he was learning, and that was this was all about.

His shoulder throbbed with pain as the blunted tip jabbed him. Mira retracted again and set her feet wide to lunge even deeper but Hal grimaced through the pain and stepped within her reach.

Lacking the time or proper coordination of a skilled swordsman, Hal got in close and headbutted Mira hard. She was a little taller than Hal but not enough to make a difference.

The elf staggered back, her long hair flopped to the side of her face covering one eye. With a jerk of her head, she put her hair back in place with a bloodied grin. “Good!” she cheered.

Hal recognized the sudden shift in demeanor and was already trying to get out of range. But Mira was too fast. Even with his Convergence assisted movements, the Dragoon was a force to be reckoned with.

Out swept her spear at an awkward angle that never would hit him. At the last moment, Hal saw it for what it was. A trap. She swept the spear out wide, meaning to herd him into place. Just as she pulled the spear back to pen him in, Hal dropped to the ground and rolled back out of range.

But he was slower than Mira and the woman was keen on getting some payback. She lunged forward, stabbing down at Hal but missed with enough force to bury the blunt side of her spear into the earth nearly a foot.

Hal got up and before she could extricate the spear, came around in a sweeping horizontal cut at her neck. At the last second, he pulled the wooden blade and rested it gently on her shoulder.

Mira glared at him a moment then lit up with appreciation. “Well dang, dude.”

There was honest kindness in her violet eyes. With a savage tug, she pulled the spear from the ground. Hal held out a hand for the spear as he removed the blade from atop her shoulder.

A look of confusion crossed her face before she realized what he was doing. This was the first time Hal ever beat her in a sparring match. His body was mostly covered in bruises and minor scrapes from the past week of constant training.

Hal swiped away at the training complete notification, he’d deal with that when he could sit down. His legs felt like sacks of sand.

Together, the unlikely pair struck up an arrangement that suited them both. Mira, skilled as any with a polearm, would spar with him - using only wooden, blunted weapons so nobody took any real damage - in exchange for Hal teaching her Bonecrafting.

Taking her spear, Hal walked over to a small Guild Chest and deposited them within. It was the duty of the bout’s victor to clean up and get something to eat. If either of them were hurt, it was also their role to make sure they were taken care of.

Ten minutes later, Mira and Hal were shoveling a bowl of [Koblin Stew] - surprisingly good considering it was vegetarian - into their mouths and discussing the latest match.

“If I had my Dragoon powers I would have stomped you,” Mira said, as was often her refrain.

“I still don’t think it’s fair that I’m allowed to use my Convergence ability,” Hal countered, as was his usual rebuttal.

Mira snagged the last of their shared bread and scoured the bowl clean with the heel of the crusty loaf. Around a mouthful of food she said, “Yeah, we already tried that. You’re slower than my grandma. And she’s dead.

“Besides,” she added once she swallowed another bite, “are you ever going to go into a battle without using that? I mean you’re like three or four times faster than you usually are with that. At least. Why would you ever give that up?”

Hal conceded the point with a nod. He remembered well enough the sound beating he got when he tried to “level the playing field.”

It had been one step too far, he realized. And only then did he come to understand just how much he relied on his Beast Magic.

Maybe that was why he felt like he was stagnating lately. He wasn’t doing much to improve Beastborne or his Beast Magic. The few creatures that came at the caravan were usually dispatched before Hal ever heard of them.

The dwarves may have once allowed him the honor of dealing with threats first, but after they joined the Guild they became protective. They wouldn’t stop him from fighting but they also wouldn’t hold themselves back from a scrap. The closer they came to the Shiverglades - and especially after the events of the Glimmerwood - the more aggressive the dwarves were about protecting the caravan.

Those rare times he managed to be part of a few kills, it was more in a role of assistance than leading the charge.

That’s the problem with a large defensive group, Hal thought. While they allow me to focus on other matters and defend the Guild as a whole I don’t get as much experience.

It was only a problem he would need to worry about for a short time, he tried to remind himself. They weren’t going to be on the road forever. And when they finally made a Settlement, Hal would be one of the first to go exploring for new materials and resources.

He would have to work hard to make sure nobody thought he was going to turn into some idle leader that delegated all his tasks. Hal wanted to get his hands dirty, he wanted to be on the front-lines.

Making sure that he established that early on was of paramount importance. He didn’t want to be like Luda, where everybody tried to protect her and shelter her from the world.

“Yo, Hal! I’m talking to you,” Mira said, flicking her finger against his forehead and pulling him - rather painfully - from his thoughts.

“Ow!” Hal rubbed his forehead, snapping back to reality and looking up at Mira. “What? Oh. Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking.”

“About Luda, or about Noth?” she said, waggling her eyebrows suggestively. “Don’t try to act like you haven’t been playing the field a little. Though, to be honest I thought you’d be into Ashera. She definitely has a soft spot for you.”

Hal was glad for the dim light of the descending darkness that fell upon the caravan. He ducked his head and regarded the last few spoonfuls of his [Koblin Stew]. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Don’t give me that,” Mira said, leaning back and - as usual - kicking her boots up onto the table. The dinnerware rattled but nothing spilled more than usual. “I’ve seen you sneaking off at night with Noth and Luda. Though I didn’t think you liked ‘em that young. Still not sure how I feel about that.”

Hal colored deeply and looked up at her. “It’s not like that, not with Luda. She just wants somebody to talk to. The girl’s lonely, Mira. We’re the closest people to her in terms of age in the entire caravan and our group and hers couldn’t be more different.”

“Aha, so you admit you got a thing for Noth,” Mira said, keeping on track.

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” Hal said, shaking his head and finishing his bowl. “And Ashera doesn’t like me. We’re friends.”

Mira’s answering snicker was anything but convinced. “Yeah, all right. So, you and Noth huh?” She leaned back a bit more, balancing her chair on two legs and lacing her hands behind her head. “Why haven’t you ever asked me out on one of your ‘evening strolls’, eh?”

Hal bit back the snide retort he had at the ready and instead said, “You’re too much for me to handle.” It was the most diplomatic way he could put it.

In truth, Mira was somewhat terrifying. And there was still the question of her unusual vernacular and surprisingly modern - by Earth’s standards anyway - word choice.

If Mira suspected anything, she didn’t let it show on her tan elvish features. She nodded as if she never would have expected anything less. “Besides, as much as I’m sure your… tentacle bones are totally cool and - not gonna lie - frightening in a fight, they give me the heebs. That and, well you know. The other thing.”

Hal tried to stay resolute in face of her smug smile. She was baiting him, obviously so and he wasn’t about to fall for it. But as the seconds wore on and Mira’s smug expression only deepened, Hal’s willpower began to falter.

It wasn’t so much that he wanted to know, it was the way Mira said it. As if she had some secret Hal didn’t know about. Which, she very well might, but that was beside the point.

She wanted him to ask.

I can’t believe I’m going to fall for this. Again. With a deep, soul-weary sigh, Hal asked, “What ‘other thing’?”

Mira pulled her feet from the table in a flash and leaned in, placing her elbows on the tabletop and inviting Hal to get closer.

I’m going to regret this.

Leaning forward, Hal turned his questioning expression on Mira who was clearly enjoying the drawn-out attention.

“I like ‘em thicc. That’s t-h-i-c-c. Two c’s, Hal. That’s how thicc I like ‘em. And while you’re a handsome sort, you ain’t got that cake.” Her violet eyes roamed one of the nearby dwarves and she gave the dwarf a lewd and suggestive look.

One, to Hal’s mounting horror, the dwarf returned.

59

Suddenly serious, Mira turned her attention back to Hal. “So,” she said, and her tone drew Hal’s attention back to her and away from the receding dwarf who continually looked over his shoulder at Mira. “Luda’s lonely?”

“Don’t start with that again,” Hal warned, but judging by the look on Mira’s face, he didn’t think that was where she was headed.

“Are her ‘disciples’ or whatever they’re called, treating her poorly?”

“Not really,” Hal answered. “The opposite, if anything. They revere her and seem to think that she needs protecting and care above all else. The world is filled with wondrous sights and adventure at every turn. I’ve not even been on Aldim for half a year and already I’ve learned more and experienced more than the last twenty-plus years of my life.”

Mira nodded, lacing her long fingers together and cradling her chin upon them. “I get you. You should invite her to spar with us.”

That made Hal raise his brow. “Are you sure that wouldn’t have the opposite effect and make her want to leave?”

The shrug from Mira was telling. If it did, that meant Luda wasn’t serious about wanting to get stronger or being able to fend for herself. As she so often expressed as her desire.

If instead, she wanted to join in then it would give her the opportunity to properly train herself. It would allow her to see first hand how fighting actually is. Not the romanticized version she may be thinking of. Though, Hal realized she probably understood the realities of battle all too well.

“I’ll let her know,” Hal agreed.

“Good,” Mira said, surging her feet suddenly. “Now, I’m going to get cleaned up. Which, around here means dunking my head in a barrel of water because we’re all a bunch of dang heathens ‘roughing it’.”

She rounded on Hal, pointing accusingly at him. “I don’t give two pobul farts if my new home is a shack with only three walls. But heaven help you Hal, if I don’t have indoor plumbing. When I get back, you’ll hold up your end of the bargain?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

With a snort, Mira left him in peace to similarly get cleaned up and deal with his notifications. That, and he needed to set up the table with Mira’s latest Bonecrafting supplies. Hal took a look at his nagging notifications while he set everything up.

Training Complete: +500 Experience Points.

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 20.

+1% Sword damage (+20%).

-0.25% Sword durability loss (-5.0%).

+5% Sword armor penetration (+10%).

You learn Goring Blade.

Goring Blade

Sunder your enemy's defenses, breaking through and dealing severe bodily harm. Inflicts gored status on the target if more than one point of damage is dealt.

If no damage is dealt, armor durability is reduced by 18%.

Gored Status: Suffering deep wounds, resulting in doubled bleed duration and damage.

Cost: 120 Stamina

You have 1 Sword Skill Perk point awaiting assignment.

Mastery 0/5

By gaining mastery over your weapon, you increase your damage and unlock more damaging weapon skills. Most of which require a level of mastery to attain.

Lv1: +5% Sword Damage | -1% Stamina Drain

Lv2: +7.5% Sword Damage | -1.5% Stamina Drain

Lv3: +10% Sword Damage | -2% Stamina Drain | -10% Weapon Skill Stamina Cost.

Lv4: +15% Sword Damage | -3% Stamina Drain | -12% Weapon Skill Stamina Cost.

Lv5: +25% Sword Damage | -5% Stamina Drain | -15% Weapon Skill Stamina Cost.

Cruel Blade 1/5

You learn how to better bleed out an enemy, forcing them to take extra damage. Each strike you land has a higher chance to inflict the bleed status affliction. An enemy under Cruel Blade's bleed affliction takes standard bleed damage for the duration of the effect. Upon the end of the affliction, the enemy takes additional damage equal to a portion of the bleed damage suffered.

Lv1: +20% Bleed Chance (10s) | 15% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Lv2: +30% Bleed Chance (15s) | 20% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Lv3: +40% Bleed Chance (20s) | 25% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Lv4: +55% Bleed Chance (25s) | 35% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Lv5: +75% Bleed Chance (30s) | 50% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Blood of My Enemies 0/5

Each successful kill grants a temporary 5% Damage Boost for the next 10 seconds. Effect stacks.

Lv1: +5% Damage (10s).

Lv2: +7.5% Damage (10s).

Lv3: +7.5% Damage (15s).

Lv4: +10% Damage (15s).

Lv5: +10% Damage (20s).

Your Parry Skill has risen to Level 9.

+1% Parry success (+9%).

-1% Stamina cost (-9%).

It wasn’t much of a choice. Considering his latest weaponskill, Hal’s use of Cruel Blade would be even more effective. While Hal laid out Mira’s workpieces, he picked up the second Level of Cruel Blade.

With the synergistic effect of Goring Blade, Hal would effectively quadruple the damage from Cruel Blade’s bleed effect.

Something that, as his Beast Magic continued to grow and improve, he felt was falling behind in terms of both utility and strength. Why get close to an enemy and risk harm when he could keep at range?

With Convergence, he was able to get in and out of that deadly close-range easier. At the same time, Convergence would allow him to hit harder if he timed it right.

Altogether, he was rounding out his abilities, shoring up his weaknesses instead of fully relying on his strengths alone. He was determined not to be a “glass cannon.”

While Convergence regrettably couldn’t bolster his VIT, it did allow him to dramatically increase his other physical stats. With proper application, he could significantly boost any stat.

In practice, it was like trying to hold two or three conversations in tandem. Add in spellcasting and the whole thing fell apart which would leave him suddenly much slower and less nimble.

For the first time since they left the Mirrorlands, Hal felt the absence of pain.

Having higher HP gave him yet another resource to pull from for Assimilation. Moreover, with more HP he could use Assimilation for both SP and MP. Converting to HP was by far the most inefficient of the three, and the longer he could hold off on healing himself, the better.

And while there was merit in killing something faster so it dealt less damage, that didn’t hold up much in practice. Not only because with lower VIT everything hurt more, but because a single attack that he could take now would have knocked him out cold before.

Even his sparring would have been much less effective without the recent gains in VIT. While VIT didn’t appear to directly reduce incoming damage, it did have an interesting effect on minor damage.

It was all about the percentage of total damage. If a person sustained 10% of their total HP, that would be most certainly be a wound or even an injury. If Hal’s HP was 100, taking 5 damage would be keenly felt even if it didn’t break something.

Taking 5 damage at 500 to 600 HP was an entirely different story. It still hurt, but he was able to shrug off the blows with little more than a bruise later. And at his regeneration, the minor loss of HP was healed in minutes.

The biggest difference was the pain. At 100 HP that 5 damage would really hurt, enough that it would interrupt anybody’s focus. But at Hal’s HP, it was easy to shrug off.

While STR increased his muscle mass and definition, VIT gave him a healthy appearance. Hal looked much more physically built than he had a month ago. In fact, he largely didn’t recognize himself the few times he caught a glimpse of his longer hair and healthier features in a mirror or reflective crystal.

He may not be as chiseled as a dwarf, but he was far more built than most men back on Earth, barring professional bodybuilders. He didn’t want watermelons for biceps, not that such a thing seemed possible even on Aldim.

There were dwarves among the caravan that could literally benchpress a wagon. Their arms, while nearly double the size of Hal’s, weren’t colossal by any means. Certainly smaller than several bodybuilders he knew about back home.

But he was solid and sturdy, unlike anything he ever experienced before. Perhaps not as “thicc” as Mira liked her men, but he was okay with that.

The chair Hal was sitting in creaked a little under the newly added weight. That was an interesting side-effect. One that he wasn’t sure whether or not he liked.

Every point of VIT increased his weight by about five pounds. Hal was nearly double the average healthy weight for his size.

Each added pound came in the form of a denser body. Back on Earth, if he weighed nearly 300 pounds he would have trouble fitting through his door. Thankfully, VIT didn’t work that way on Aldim.

The image of large rotund tanks did bring a smile to his face though.

60

After seeing - and feeling - the gains of increasing his VIT, Hal could understand Thirty-seven’s desire to be a tank. With sufficiently high VIT, wounds that would have instantly killed Hal early on would feel like a mosquito bite.

However, he was aware that he couldn’t keep increasing his VIT forever. He would eventually have to turn back to his three main stats of INT, MND, and CHR.

They were going into increasingly more dangerous territory, with the Shiverglades awaiting them on the other side of the Barrier Mountains. While he might not hold people back as much as he used to, he still needed to improve himself.

And while he wouldn’t be passing out from a stiff breeze anytime soon, if he wasn’t able to do much with his vaunted Beast Magic, what was the point of it? Even after increasing Beastborne to Level 19, his Burden Points had not increased.

Which meant he was effectively capped at the number of spells he could set each day. That would be his next priority. After they set up in the Shiverglades, he would delve deeper into Beast Magic. There had to be something there. Besal had hinted at as much.

Hal turned his attention back to his latest long-term project, the [Shard of Density]. It was a palm-sized ossified metal lattice around a large [Empyreal Shardite] crystal of high quality he had Crag McDervish craft for him.

Considering the copper-bearded dwarf always appeared to be in a sour mood, Hal thought the man would turn him down. Or at least charge him an unsurmountable fee.

As it happened, the dwarf was more than happy to work with the material and offered to do it for free. Something Hal more than welcomed. There wasn’t a soul alive that could probably take advantage of that wily dwarf and Hal was under no illusions that he could or had managed that singular feat.

While Hal instructed Mira in the art of Bonecrafting, Hal was working on making what essentially amounted to a mana battery. Something that could hold, store - and in this case condense - mana for later retrieval.

His original idea of constantly making higher and higher quality bone weapons in order to inject more mana took a backseat to this project. Several iterations went into making the [Shard of Density] and he still wasn’t done with it. Nor would he be for quite some time.

[Bonecrafting | Stage III Imbuement]

Item: Shard of Density

Rarity: Fabled

Bonus Points: 18/18

Enchantments 0/2

MP Storage: 0/200

Durability: 450/450

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Core II

Mana Saturated Bone

Enchantments:

Mana Condenser II

[Empyreal Shardite] is a known conduit of mana and magical effects. Infusing the crystalline substance into the bone matrix creates a new element. One of crystal-and-bone. In the spaces between the hollowed cells of marrow, crystalline channels have grown.

These channels can not only accept mana to empower but can also condense that mana at a rate of 2 to 1, due to the refined nature of [Empyreal Shardite]. This mana can be extracted for use later. The unfortunate side effect is the item’s weight increases dramatically.

Tier II Effects: +15% Mana Condensing

Ossified Metal

By combining metal and bone, you have created a new element. Ossified metal has the strength of hardened steel but the lightness of bone. Applying this enchantment increases Damage, Durability, Lowers Weight, and makes the item exceptionally conductive. Conductive elemental effects are improved.

A side-effect of using Ossified Metal was that it increased the effectiveness of the mana condensing effects. There was a lot of synergy and additional mechanics at play that Hal didn’t quite understand yet.

By combining both enchantments he was able to dramatically improve the MP storage capability of the [Shard of Density].

Before Hal could try any other enchantment combinations, Mira startled him by sitting down at the table beside him. Her wet hair was hanging loosely about her shoulders. The sides had grown out, ruining the faux hawk effect she had when they first met.

Her violet eyes glanced across the bones. “Man this is so cool,” she muttered under her breath.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I mean, think about it, Hal.” She picked up a carved piece of bone shaped like a speartip. “I’m going to take an animal’s bones to stab another animal. If that isn’t metal as all heck, I don’t know what is!”

When they first struck up the agreement, Hal was a bit nervous about the whole affair. Mostly because he felt more than a little weirded out that somebody else would be essentially handling his bones.

It felt weirdly personal.

Luckily, Mira was more than happy to use her own supply. One that the woman had in large amounts. Hal didn’t bother to ask where she got them and she didn’t ask if she could use Hal’s bones.

Unlike Hal, Mira had to use tools to shape the bone. It seemed Hal’s bone shaping abilities from his aberration attunements allowed him to excel at Bonecrafting where Mira was struggling.

Despite her difficulties, she was shaping up to be a competent crafter. Watching her, Hal understood where she was going wrong and how to properly shave or cut away at the bone to get the shape she desired.

It was surreal having knowledge he knew he never worked for. It was just… there. As soon as he saw how Mira was holding the tools, he wrapped his hands around hers and instructed her in their proper use.

And that was in spite of Hal never touching those items in his life, much less using them with any degree of skill.

Teaching another person Bonecrafting had an interesting effect. Hal gained several levels of Bonecrafting largely from tutoring Mira.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 5.

…

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 8.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+8.8%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+9.6%).

+10% CP generation (+10%).

What time he had to himself, or when she was busy working on her items was spent with his various iterations of the [Shard of Density]. He still didn’t have enough skill to make it work right, but the more he tinkered with it the closer he came.

They passed the time in relative silence together, punctuated mostly by a colorful stream of swearing from Mira that would make a dwarf’s hairy cheeks blush.

“Why can’t I just do this and it takes however many hours it takes?” Mira asked after a few hours. “When you explained the whole CP thing, I figured I’d be able to auto-pilot this.”

Hal shrugged. “I’m far from a master, but what I’ve found is that CP only comes into play when you’re following a prescribed recipe. If you know how to do it, or have a series of steps instructing you, all it takes is your time and effort to complete it.

“By making something new and different, you’re doing an entirely different thing. The same is true when you’re altering a recipe I’ve found. Creating variations takes a lot longer but once you have a recipe, then it’s usually a simple reflection of your current CP.”

“I feel like you’re pulling that from your bum,” Mira said, looking up at him with a sour expression. “But after already asking Ashera, your explanation makes sense.”

“If you already asked Ashera, why did you bother asking me?”

Mira rolled her wrist and went back to work. “Oh, you know how it is. Ashera’s so dry sometimes. I just sorta… tune in and out. So combined, the two of you made a decent explanation.”

Hal rolled his eyes and went back to work.

Removing the shard of [Brilliance] had the intended effect of removing the Ossified Metal enchantment and summarily dropping the stored MP by 50 points.

He placed in a [Glittersilk Cocoon] in its stead. The metallic latticework that encased the shifting blue-to-yellow [Empyreal Shardite] vanished. In its place was a much smaller [Shard of Density].

Instead of being the size of his fist, it was about the size of a casino token. The threads of the cocoon turned blacker than anything he’d ever seen. If not for holding it in the palm of his hand, it would seem like a pit of emptiness.

From within the threads came the gentle glittering light of the stars. They ranged from familiar blue-white pinpricks of brilliance to the hue of [Empyreal Shardite], shifting from yellow to blue and back again.

And it was impossibly light. A gentle breeze could blow it out of his hand. But what truly surprised him was the prompt that showed up.

[Bonecrafting | Stage III Imbuement]

Enchantment Discovered: Starsilk

Taking [Glittersilk’s] naturally magical nature to the next level, it has combined with the ossified material to create [Starsilk]. Not just an enchantment, [Starsilk] is itself a new type of item. Hard as steel but soft and light as silk. With the addition of [Empyreal Shardite], the [Starsilk’s] natural mana conductivity is greatly enhanced.

Improvement Statistics

Durability: A

Defense: A

Special: S

Recipe Unlocked: Starsilk.

61

“What’re you grinning at?” Mira asked him.

Hal was looking at the new stats of his [Shard of Density] and was quite pleased.

That he could now create [Starsilk] was an even greater achievement. Though he didn’t think he had enough ingredients to try making anything big enough to be made into armor. He shoved the thoughts aside, realizing that he was getting ahead of himself and turned back to the [Shard of Destiny].

[Bonecrafting | Stage III Imbuement]

Item: Shard of Density

Rarity: Fabled

Bonus Points: 18/18

Enchantments 0/2

MP Storage: 0/320

Durability: 600/600

Details:

Empyreal Shardite Core II

Mana Saturated Bone

Enchantments:

Mana Condenser II

[Empyreal Shardite] is a known conduit of mana and magical effects. Infusing the crystalline substance into the bone matrix creates a new element. One of crystal-and-bone. In the spaces between the hollowed cells of marrow, crystalline channels have grown.

These channels can not only accept mana to empower but can also condense that mana at a rate of 2 to 1, due to the refined nature of [Empyreal Shardite]. This mana can be extracted for use later. The unfortunate side effect is the item’s weight increases dramatically.

Tier II Effects: +15% Mana Condensing

Starsilk

Taking [Glittersilk’s] naturally magical nature to the next level, it has combined with the ossified material to create [Starsilk]. Not just an enchantment, [Starsilk] is itself a new type of item. Hard as steel but soft and light as silk. With the addition of [Empyreal Shardite], the [Starsilk’s] natural mana conductivity is greatly enhanced.

The increase was staggering. That was practically his entire MP that could be held within the small black cocoon of glittering stars.

“I might have just found the holy grail of materials, but I’m going to need a lot more Glittersilk. After we get things settled in the Shiverglades, how do you feel about joining me on an expedition to the Glitterwood?”

Mira’s wide grin took in both her pointed ears. “You had me at expedition.”

* * *

“That really doesn’t seem wise,” Elora was saying as she sat beside Lurklox on the driver’s bench.

Hal, sitting on the other side of the diminutive koblin shook his head. “What did you expect me to say?”

They were discussing Hal’s offer to Luda to come train and spar with himself and Mira every night. News that the Wildsmaster didn’t take too well.

“How about, ‘no’?”

“Is it my place to act like her father?”

“It is your place to act as a teacher?” Elora shot back.

Luda and her attendants were spending the day with the dwarves in the supply wagon. One of her disciples was a skilled Carpenter and was lending a hand to some creation or other that the dwarves had cooked up. Ever the curious one, Luda had insisted on coming along to view the process.

Seeing this as a sign away from her more dangerous pursuits and desires, they wholeheartedly agreed. Leaving Hal’s wagon emptier than it had been in a long while.

Of course, as soon as Hal told them his intention of including Luda in his nightly sparring sessions with Mira, Elora had made her criticisms known. Loudly, and frequently.

Hal shrugged. “Nobody else is going to do it.”

For once, that seemed to shut Elora up. She opened her mouth to retort and then shut it with an audible click.

“Pssshkoh, Lurklox does not understand. Why playfight bad? Make fast quickthink. Expand braincase!”

“She is just a child,” Elora countered.

Lurklox nodded her masked head, her floppy green ears bobbing with the motion. “When smallkobby the bestest clocktick to be doing the playfight. Elora furrowbrow too much. Hal-Savior is only handlending, never truehurt Luda.”

As usual, Hal only understood about every other word but he thought Lurklox was agreeing with him. “Listen, I don’t have many skills she can learn from me anyway. It’s not like I can teach her Beast Magic, or how to be a Beastborne.”

“That’s also a terrible idea,” Mira put in, sticking her head in from the cabin of the wagon.

When they turned to her she actually blushed for the first time that Hal had seen in a long while. Mira cleared her throat and made her voice into a sickly sweet parody of itself. “Oh I mean, you’re just so unique Hal. How ever could any of your very close friends stand by and allow you to share your unique gift that isn’t terrifying or potential murderous at all!

“Especially not with a young girl already beset by emotional trauma and weak willpower. Surely nothing will go wrong there! Tee hee! There, that better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Hal said dryly.

“Besides,” Elora said, “You can’t instruct somebody until you’re Level twenty-five,” Elora said off-handedly.

“Wait, what?”

She tsk’d and shook her head. “Once you’re Level twenty-five in a single Class you can become a trainer. Guiding people through those Class requirements and helping them on their way to attaining it for themselves. Usually, people set up schools for rare and powerful Classes and then charge a hefty sum for the tutelage.

“Most of them are scams but some are quite real. With Rinbast in control, there’s a very short list of available schools and an even shorter list of who is allowed to teach it regardless of their Level.”

“She’s right, mostly at least,” Mira said as she crawled through to the driver’s seat and sat between Lurklox and Hal, forcing him to sit on the far edge of the bench. “Mmm, cozy.”

Hal shook his head and leaned back against the wagon’s wall, watching the green hillsides roll out ahead of them for miles. As they turned toward the east, keeping the silvery ribbon that laced through the hilly countryside on their right, Hal wondered how he could facilitate that.

“Any Class?” Hal asked.

“As far as I know.”

“What about Professions like Alchemy and the like?”

“I think they have the same requirement too,” Elora said, though she sounded unsure. “Most people are able to discover the main Professions pretty quickly and with a little effort. Playing around cutting on wood usually is enough for people to discover Carpentry even if they never heard of it before. While the Profession, is usually unlocked at Carpentry Level 10.”

“But Hal was able to teach me Bonecrafting pretty quickly,” Mira said, nudging Hal with her elbow. “Of course, I had to give up my very precious time in exchange. My love life is surely going to suffer now.”

“That’s probably a different case then,” Elora said, folding her arms over her chest and lowering her head so her hood fell the rest of the way over her blonde hair. “Wake me when we get closer.”

Taking the dismissal for what it was, Hal patted Lurklox affectionately on the shoulder and looked to Mira. “If you’re staying out here, I need you to move aside so I can get into the wagon.”

Mira looked at Elora, then Hal. With a shrug, she opened the door and slipped back inside. Hal followed and once inside, went about making himself a cup of mint tea.

“I can’t believe she did the hood thing,” Mira said, already lounging on her bunk with one leg dangling over the edge.

“You get used to it.”

“But I was looking at the stupid grass! I missed it! It’s just so dang cool. I mean, does she even realize how cool she is, or is that like… part of the coolness factor?”

“What are you talking about, Mira?” Noth asked, sitting at the table with Ashera sorting out dried herbs.

Ashera was quizzing her on their properties.

Mira twisted around and sat up on her bunk in one smooth motion, turning to face the rest of the wagon. Angram was out on a karak with a few of the Rangers, watching their flanks and making sure to keep an eye out for some dragon a few dwarfs swore they saw the other night.

Nobody had seen it since. Nor had any of the Rangers.

“I just mean,” Mira began animatedly, “like that’s always the thing with ‘cool people’ right? They don’t even seem aware that they are cool. That aloofness seems... I dunno, baked in or something. Like walking away from an explosion without looking back at it. That’s just cool.”

“You have walked away from many explosions,” Ashera pointed out. She turned back to Noth and pointed at a pair of dried violet blossoms with symmetrical oval leaves and gray roots. “What is this?”

Noth pursed her lips. “Aadarna?”

“Very good,” Ashera replied with a smile. “And what does it do?”

“It… gives people visions.”

“Visions about what?” Ashera coaxed.

Squinting, Noth was clearly trying to remember and getting frustrated. “I don’t know! All of my memories are all… jumbled up. How do you people deal with being mortal? I had a catalog of memories, thoughts, and experiences when I was a Reaper. Now everything is… tainted with emotion and warped perception.

“How come I can remember the way the starlight looked when I was out walking with Hal, but I can’t remember what you told me about that plant five minutes ago?”

Ashera looked away, a flush of pink highlighting her cheeks. Even Mira coughed and cleared her throat, trying to look away.

Noth looked around the interior of the wagon at everybody. Pouring another cup of hot tea, Hal did his best to keep his focus on his tea mug.

“What is it?” Noth asked, suddenly clued in to the awkward vibe in the room.

“Nothing,” Ashera said placidly. She reached out and gently touched Noth’s forearm. “This,” she indicated the [Aadarna], “is a tough plant that grows on the edges of swamps. Its large roots can be ground into a powder. And that powder is the main ingredient in a potion that allows people to see into other realms for about an hour. While they are viewing that other realm they are blind to their current one.”

62

“Like Farseeing,” Noth said with a nod.

Ashera tilted her head curiously. “I do not know the name.”

“It is an ability that the Reapers have to see through the realms.” When everybody looked at her curiously, Noth’s expression turned incredulous. “You don’t think a Reaper just jumps into the world of the stubbornly departed without scouting out beforehand do you?” She shook her head, a banner of raven-black hair fanning out behind her chair.

“Are they watching us all the time?” Hal asked, taking a sip of his tea.

“Only when somebody dies and refuses to move on,” Noth said, pinning her golden stare to him. “You were particularly difficult you know.” Despite her words, a faint smile tugged at her lips. “I’ve crossed-over kings and queens in the middle of battle who were easier to deal with.”

Hal shrugged innocently. “I’m stubborn.”

“That is putting it mildly,” Ashera said, packing up some of her herbs.

“I’m surprised you’re not a Paladin,” Mira said, getting to her feet and reaching toward the ceiling as she stretched.

That caught Ashera’s attention, Hal noticed. Ashera’s eyes were wide on Mira, but the lean elf wasn’t paying her any attention as she continued addressing Hal, “With that thick head of yours, you’d make an awesome tank.”

That’s an odd reaction, Hal thought, watching Ashera over the lip of his tea mug. Was that because she was interested in being a Paladin or because of Thirty-seven?

Komachi lounged on the table between Noth and Ashera. Sometimes her tail would twitch or a paw would grab at some of Ashera’s herbs. Every so often her sleek fur would ripple with a green aura as she kept up the buff that allowed them all to make the trip in a quarter less time.

As it was, they were already coming upon the narrow pass that would lead them into the western edge of the Shiverglades. It was Hal’s intention to camp just within the pass, without going into the Shiverglades themselves.

If they were as deadly and dangerous as Elora tried to impress upon him all that time ago, he wanted to limit the amount of time they would need to be there during the night.

Not to mention, from what he understood they were swampy and uneven underfoot. Just the sort of thing that would swallow a wagon’s wheels as it rested on the soft peat overnight.

Hal was working with Durvin and a few of the dwarven crafters to come up with a solution to that.

The small door to the driver’s bench opened and Elora stuck her head into the wagon. “We’re in sight of the Shiverglades. Hal, you might want to come see this. Wear a new face.”

Hal looked over at Elora and set down his tea. “On my way.” Elora’s familiar left ahead of him, suddenly darting off the table with a loud chirp, bouncing off one of the bunks, then squeezing beneath the wagon’s door. Hal took the time to change into a new disguise with Shifting Mask. It was one of the spells he kept at the ready recently, because it always seemed useful when meeting new people.

Even surrounded by his Guild and with a caravan full of fiery dwarves, the last thing he needed to do was draw more attention.

The wagon came to a stop, allowing Hal to exit the rear and come around to see what Elora was talking about. As he hopped out, a prompt slipped across his vision.

Fool’s Pass.

Your Exploration Skill has risen to Level 8.

+10% Faster drawing speed (+80%).

+3% Discoverable range (+24%).

Coming around the wagon Hal saw the lone figure standing there.

The wagons had come to the mouth of a narrow pass that interrupted the mountain chain running north and south. The sun was setting at his back, casting the typically silver river that the caravan had kept to their right all throughout the day into molten gold.

Mountains rose up to the left and right, leaving a grassy expanse with the occasional tumbled boulder. At the entrance to the pass were two large stacks of boulders covered with moss and weathered with age.

The pass couldn’t have been wider than half a football field, and just at its mouth stood a man in black robes.

Hal recognized him as soon as he pulled off his low cowl. The setting sun lit his refined features and that hawkish nose. Hirash. Hal tried hard not to grit his teeth or grimace as he came within ten feet of the man.

Shifting Mask had worked on him before when Hal took the form of a dwarf. Now he looked like a rather plain, if somewhat dirtied accountant. Nothing at all like anything Hal ever changed into before.

Several bows were already trained on Hirash as well as other, more subtle armaments. The man surely knew that, and so Hal looked around at the rising mountains. He sent his senses out wide, Splicing aberration and eldritch to see if he could feel anything else.

Nothing.

The questioning look he shot Hirash was met with a wry grin.

“So you are farther along than I figured,” he drawled. His cold eyes flicked to the dwarves starting to pile out of the nearby wagons. “Interesting friends you keep.”

Hal merely looked at him, nonplussed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” His accents were terrible so he played it straight, hoping Hirash didn’t recognize his voice.

The Archmage sneered and rolled his eyes. “Pray, dispense with the theatrics. I am here only to offer a warning and nothing more. I am not even fully here, so if it pleases you to stab-”

More confused than anything, Hal stared at the Archmage paused mid-sentence.

“Temper, temper, dear boy,” Hirash chided.

“You’re not really here, are you mister?” Hal asked, trying to keep to the stupid act. Something was very wrong about all this. Scripted, even.

Hirash’s dark brow climbed higher. “I have come to bid you to turn back your course. You will not find a Manaseed within the Shiverglades and even if you did, there will be no salvation for you there.”

He motioned with one wide black sleeve to the caravan. But Hal noticed that the motion could have easily meant just a few people or an entire army.

“Bid them turn back and the Founder will be lenient with them. If they recant their rebellious ways, they may go freely about with their old lives, that is a promise. Even the broken one.” Hirash said just as Ashera was getting out of the wagon. She was looking at the pair with worry written clearly on her face. Her horns glowed in the golden light of the sunset.

“Beeble bopple, razamatazz?” Hal asked, testing his theory that this was nothing more than the magical equivalent of a pre-recorded message.

“I will open a portal to your world or any of various Earths you wish to inhabit. Would you like to go to a world where you are rich and powerful already? I can do that. Would you like a world where the energy crisis is already solved? World hunger? There are countless worlds at my fingertips, Hal. The choice is yours.”

Taking a few steps forward, Hal gently poked the man. His finger met only air and made the image fuzz a little. “Neat.”

“If it were up to me, I would send you into a hellish landscape full of fire and brimstone. But Rinbast was explicit in his instructions. Allow me to show you.” With a wave of his hand, a window opened up to his right, Hal’s left.

Several bowstrings tightened as the Rangers took aim and Hal quickly raised a hand to call it off. He looked to the window set at such an angle that most of the caravan wouldn’t be able to see what was within.

He saw Earth. Namely, Seattle. His home.

Cars rushed about, daily traffic clogged the streets. Everything seemed so perfectly… mundane. A month ago or more, Hal might have been tempted. Even now he was more than a little curious about it. Even if it was a scripted message.

He wondered how long it had been there.

No more daily death and dismemberment hanging over him. No great war to fight that was surely coming with Rinbast if he rejected the offer. He doubted the man would make another offer.

And even the offer itself lent some credence to Hal’s course.

Men like Rinbast didn’t willingly offer clemency. They didn’t offer a way out for an upstart rival. Even if Hal was much weaker than Rinbast, there was a logical reason that the man was offering this now.

Likely, the other passage into the Shiverglades was filled with soldiers or worse. And as a precaution, Rinbast had Hirash set up this little message at the western end.

Hal didn’t dismiss the threat that Hirash might be watching, so he maintained his confused expression. Hal repeatedly poked Hirash’s image, getting a certain juvenile joy out of it.

Even if that wasn’t the case, and Hal thought it was because it was something he would do, the very offer meant that Rinbast feared him. Then again, Hal would have had Hirash be here physically. Or at least in real-time.

The Archmage was seriously phoning it in. Did Rinbast even know? The effect was more comical than worrying.

At the least, he was being taken seriously and not squashed out of hand. Which meant that either Rinbast lacked the ability or the reach to strike at him here - bolstering his belief that the Shiverglades was the perfect place for a Sanctum - or he was truly threatened by Hal in some way and wanted a more peaceful solution if Hal was willing to take it.

Granted, the holographic pre-recorded message spoiled the offer considerably. Not to mention that there was no way Hirash could hear him unless he was also watching and listening.

And if that was the case, why bother with the message?

If Rinbast had caught him the first few days, he would have taken the offer. Before he came to know Elora, Ashera, and the Rangers. Before he came to love Aldim.

Aldim was strange, terrible, but it was still beautiful in its own way.

The image of the Archmage had stopped talking and elaborating on the various worlds and treasures Hal could have. He was clearly waiting for a reply so, fully confident that nobody was home Hal said, “Blue raspberry sprinkles.” Since his response didn’t actually matter and it was entertaining all the same.

Hirash snorted and dismissed the portal with a wave of his hand. “I told him you would be ungrateful. Do not say that Rinbast never gave you a way out. Pray that you do die to the beasties and wretched peoples that call the Shiverglades home, such as it is.

“Because Rinbast will soon come for you, and all of your friends will suffer a most exquisitely painful death. Only once all of your compatriots have been tortured to death will your end come. Enjoy what is left of your life.”

With that, Hirash vanished.

Hal wondered if they stayed there long enough, if the Archmage would appear again and start talking once more.

63

Hal stood there, breathing hard as the threat washed over him with a faint magical compulsion. He wasn’t expecting that. It wasn’t strong enough to fully capture Hal but he could see clearly enough the sorts of torture his friends would go through. The distant screams still hung in the air for a moment or two before they were just a chilling memory.

Ashera was the first to Hal’s side. “Is everything okay? You look pale.”

“I’ll be fine,” Hal said. “It was just a last-ditch attempt to lure me away and probably kill me. Aside from that magical compulsion at the end, it was pathetic.”

“What did he offer?” Ashera asked, looking about as several Rangers slipped out of the wagons, some riding karaks, to go scout the surrounding area.

With a wry smile, Hal turned to Ashera. “Something that I realized I have not wanted for a long time.”

Ashera Reputation: +880 (Secretkeeper).

Your continued actions have further endeared yourself to Ashera. More than a confidant, she looks to you to keep her secrets. To be worthy and strong enough to bear the burden of her deepest confessions.

Later that night, wagons circled tight, the caravan had their nightly meal. Even with the rocky mountains to either side of them, the dwarves did not go out and mine that night.

Everybody was on edge after the appearance of Hirash and the guard was tripled. Nearly every available person was guarding the camp or acting as a scout for the night.

More than a few people would be bleary-eyed and tired the next morning but Durvin would hear none of Hal’s arguments about that.

“If the lads’re tired then that’s good news to me ears!” Durvin barked. “They’ll be rested up and rarin’ to go don’t ye doubt. I’ll break out the holy water and dangle the sweet brew in front o’ their hairy noses. No way any dwarf worth his beard’ll turn down such a prize.”

Hal shrugged and accepted that Durvin knew his dwarves best.

Something he intended to amend in the coming months. The dwarves were part of the Bravers Guild, his Guild. And Hal should know each of their names and their stories. Where they fit in best with what skillsets they had.

Of course, that was difficult on the road when the only time to talk to other wagons was in the morning or night. When many dwarves were off mining anyway. But once they found a settlement, that would be Hal’s first priority.

* * *

Nobody slept well that night. The few people that did sleep, that is. When Hal woke up after his customary two-and-a-half hours of sleep, he found the camp was still ringed with more marching sentries than he had ever seen.

Even under the boughs of the Glitterwood, they weren’t so vigilant. Then again, nobody knew the Glitterwood was dangerous.

Now, every sentry saw a shadow as a potential enemy coming at them. After Hal finished talking to Hirash, there wasn’t much time to press deeper into the Shiverglades. They chose - as was the original plan - to camp in the middle of Fool’s Pass a bit closer to the Shiverglades just in case Hirash or Rinbast had a nasty trick up their sleeve.

The dwarves placed down pyramid shaped [Shardite] every thirty or forty feet. Dwarven runes were carved deeply into their sides. They were a new protection the dwarves were working on.

Seeing that the sentries had nothing to do, and truly believing that Hirash’s only power had been to tempt him, Hal walked up to one of the [Shardite] pyramids.

A nearby dwarf looked at him. “Fancy a gander at our newest thing thanks t’ yer venture into the Mirrorlands?”

“What is it?” Hal asked, crouching to get a better look. The pyramid was barely a foot tall.

“That there’s a new-fangled thing one o’ the inventor sorts worked out.” The dwarf scratched his blonde beard - a rarity among the Bouldergut Clan - and shrugged after adjusting his helm. “Can’t rightly remember the old geezer’s name! Ye see, if that ol’ wizard-bones that ye was yammerin’ with decides to call down a bunch o’ stones upon our heads, them things’ll stop it.”

“How?”

The blonde dwarf scratched his beard again. “Dunno! But Durvin telled us to put ‘em out and we put ‘em out. Every forty feet, another thingamajig.”

With a smile and a nod of thanks, Hal went back to the tightly circled wagons. He didn’t know much about dwarven runes, or how those pyramids could possibly protect them but he had a few ideas.

Noth was waiting for him at his usual spot. She was spending more time with him in the late hours of the night. Whether she couldn’t sleep either, or just enjoyed his company, Hal didn’t know.

And truthfully, he’d rather not think too much about that at the moment. He had enough on his mind lately.

“Why didn’t you leave?” Noth asked after Hal sat down.

“I’m sorry?”

“The portal,” Noth explained. “I saw what Hirash was offering you. He was offering you a way home.”

Hal looked away to the flickering campfire. With no sight of the dragon recently and the concern of attack, they had opted to light as many watchfires as possible.

“Maybe the price was too high,” Hal answered finally.

“And what was the price?”

“That I give up all of my friends and companions. People who have placed their faith in me. People who have died helping me or been wounded. And that they recant their position and opinion of Rinbast to go live under his banner.”

Noth snorted. “That seems like an easy choice. Why did you not take it?”

That surprised Hal. He turned to look at her but saw the uncharacteristic wry grin. “My dear Noth. Was that sarcasm?”

She shrugged and flipped her curtain of silky black hair over one shoulder and looked away. “It is a newly acquired skill. Did I use it right?” Noth only slightly spoiled the carefully crafted cool demeanor by glancing back at him.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” Hal answered. “Would you have taken the offer?”

He wasn’t surprised when Noth took a moment to answer. She had made it known - loudly and often - that she disliked being mortal and that being a Reaper was a far more “transcendent” experience of reality than anything her “fleshy orbs for eyes” could perceive.

But despite that, she didn’t immediately answer.

“I… do not think I would,” she said with finality. Noth breathed in deeply of the sweet night air. “I have come to find enjoyment in things… I did not know existed before. Have you tried Pasir’s donuts? I never knew such a delectable confection existed, and Mira says there are dozens of types of donuts!”

Her childlike excitement was infectious and Hal found himself nodding along. “I’ll have to introduce you to pizza, if I can find somewhere to get the ingredients. I doubt the Shiverglades has tomato plants or… wheat for that matter.”

Suddenly Hal wasn’t so sure how they would be able to survive in the Shiverglades. What could they grow or find to feed such a large group? A group that Hal had every intention of growing as much as possible?

“I would like that very much,” Noth agreed. “There is still so much to see, to experience. I would have left the moment the offer was given shortly after my… transformation. But now? I think I might like to see what dying is like from this side of the veil.”

“Are you planning on finding that out anytime soon?” Hal asked with a suppressed laugh.

“Hmm… no, I do not think I will. I might like to see what this ‘old age’ is all about. The dwarves are very old and they seem very spry. Pasir the baker has been baking for a hundred years and that is only half his current age! Yet some of the humans that follow Luda are barely six decades old and already move around as if one foot is in the grave.”

“Different races do not have the same lifespan,” Hal explained.

The concept seemed utterly alien to Noth who put a hand to her mouth to cover her gasp. “And you are a human.”

“Mostly,” Hal said.

“Mostly,” Noth agreed.

“And unless Elora was correct in everything, even with the immortality of the Manatree I will still probably die a natural death,” Hal explained. “I’m in my twenties now. If an arrow or sword, or some spell doesn’t get me first. And the Manatree keeps disease from me, I will be lucky to have another five decades of life. I would be supremely lucky to have six or seven decades. Most humans don’t reach a century of life.”

Noth chewed on her bottom lip, a nervous habit Hal noticed she was developing. “I do not know when I will die.” She sounded… sad. “I am not quite an elf, though my ears are long like one. I am surely not human.”

“You are Noth,” Hal said simply.

Noth smiled at that. “Maybe you can call me a Nothian.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Noth.”

“What does that mean?”

Hal leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “It means, ‘whatever makes you happy’. Granted it’s a weird expression.”

“I like it.”

Together, the pair talked throughout the night. No force came against them. No dragon was sighted again. And by the time the next morning dawned bright in the distance, the camp was shrouded in a thick fog.

The braziers and campfires helped to thin it but they could do little else. A cold wet draft constantly came from the east.

“Aptly named,” Angram said, after they ate breakfast and were preparing to move again. “The Shiverglades are cold, wet, and swampy. Filled with marshes, bogs, and all sorts of watery graves. Best to be watching your step whenever you are about.” He leveled that last sentence at Hal.

“I’m going to have to be out and about in it if it’s to be my home, aren’t I?” Hal countered.

Without a ready witty reply, Angram nodded and slipped out of the wagon to go find Yesel.

64

“He’s spending a lot of time with Yesel lately, isn’t he?” Mira said, kicking her feet up on the table. She had some cards fanned out in her hand. Mira was teaching Noth, Elora, and Luda a card game that looked suspiciously like poker.

Hal looked over at her from his bunk, Vorax was nestled up to him with Hal’s hand resting on his polished wooden lid.

Luda stuck her tongue out of the corner of her mouth as she peered at the cards in her hand. “Is that abnormal? They are both Rangers, are they not?”

Mira chuckled. “I mean a lot of time. Always chasing her around, going to find her. His wit has been a bit… lacking don’t you think?”

“We are about to head into the Shiverglades,” Hal offered. “Maybe he’s just being cautious? He does have a karak mount now that seems to have taken a shine to him. I can’t imagine how much better his scouting must be to move around so fast.”

“Hal does have a point,” Elora said. “The Shiverglades repelled even Rinbast. Then again, that could be because the cost was higher than the gain. We are not quite so lucky.”

“You know,” Hal said, “everybody delights in telling me the Shiverglades is a horrible and deadly place. Yet nobody will give much more specifics other than ‘wet and cold’. Is the Shiverglades a dog’s nose then?”

Elora snorted, and slapped down a card filled with six blue diamonds. “Of course not. Most people don’t even know much about the Shiverglades except that it’s a no man’s land and that monsters pour out of there in the summer.

“Withermere is the closest town to the Shiverglades for a reason. Nobody else will dare get closer than the Gilant River. Its wide swift waters make any monsters attempting to come further north rethink their plans.”

“I take it that since we’re in late autumn, that we’ll find less resistance against us in the Shiverglades?” Mira asked, organizing her cards. “It’s your turn, Noth. Place a higher card than Elora’s to beat it or draw from the deck.”

Noth looked at her cards, picked out one with seven blooming purple flowers on it, and put it down with a wide grin.

Ashera meandered over to the table, stirring something into her tea. “Does it matter if the two are enjoying the time they have together?”

Mira looked up from her cards. “I mean… when you put it that way I guess not. But he’s sneaking about all the time, always with Yesel or nearby her. Why not just make it open?”

Turning her attention back to her cards, as it was Mira’s turn to play, she missed the meaningful look that passed between Ashera and Elora.

“Why indeed,” Ashera said, turning away from the table and going to join Lurklox on the driver’s bench as the wagon began rolling along.

The Shiverglades.

Your Exploration has risen to Level 9.

+10% Faster map drawing speed. (+90%).

+3% Discoverable range. (+27%).

They passed into the fog-laden Shiverglades soon after.

Hal unfurled his map, watching with wide-eyes as the map filled in far more than his immediate vicinity. The entirety of the Shiverglades was sketched in at nearly twice the speed as usual.

By his rough estimate, the Shiverglades were equally split between land and water. Large lakes - which he guessed to be bogs or flooded plains - appeared on the map in almost every region.

Except one.

At the center of the map was a mountain that stood alone upon the largest area of land Hal could see in all of the Shiverglades. Most of the map was still sketching out the finer details but one of the first major landmarks was that mountain.

There were far more forests than he figured there would be and so many connecting rivers between landmasses.

While more of the map filled in, Hal looked for a suitable location. Angram’s map had possessed a rough approximation of the Shiverglades. But it was nothing compared to Hal’s.

He hadn’t spent much time with it so far but what he was able to glean was that the map would do a broad-strokes version of an area. The higher his exploration skill, the larger the area sketched and the faster.

It still took nearly half an hour for the map to finish with the Shiverglades, even with nearly doubled speed.

But the map didn’t stop there. As they headed deeper into the Shiverglades it would take note of other landmarks. The sketches of forests and swampy regions would thin and condense until it was accurate.

At the moment, Hal knew most of the map was little more than an educated guess, fueled by whatever magic was in the map and his own exploration skill. Only the largest landmasses would stay relevant.

So while the mountain at the heart of the Shiverglades would likely only change position slightly as the edges of the various waterways were discovered, the rest of the map could undergo significant changes in the coming days.

Aside from the pervasive fog that seeped in through every crack and crevice in the wagons, the Shiverglades were hardly the terrifying place Hal had come to fear.

The ground shifted gradually from the hard stony ground to that of softer, marshland. Settling in for the night, several hours earlier than usual, the caravan circled its wagons tight.

Half of all able-bodied men and women - koblins included - were called up for sentry duty that night. Twelve braziers burned bright and hot at every hour marker around the camp.

The fires warded off the worst of the fog but had the unfortunate side effect of pushing it up into a wall nearly 8 feet high surrounding the wagons. The ground was soggy but the wagons didn’t sink as much as Hal feared.

Over the past few nights, with a little koblin ingenuity and dwarven sense, the wagon wheels were outfitted with curved boards. The result was odd-looking but functional.

Hal thought up the idea and introduced it to one of the dwarven craftsmen not long ago. Dwarves, relatively unfamiliar with swamp or sinking dirt at first doubted that it was necessary.

Even now, as the sun receded to the west, shining through the distant Fool’s Gap, the dwarves were hard at work outfitting every wagon with the unique barrel-looking wheels.

Wherever the fog thinned, gold glinted through from the various pools, puddles, and rivers that peppered the area. The deeper they went, the more water they found.

With their wide taloned feet, the karaks would have little trouble for some time. But as they ventured deeper, Hal wondered if they would be able to navigate the more difficult, mucky terrain common in swamps.

“We might be better off sticking to the drier, higher sections of land,” Hal said to Noth. They were both standing atop their wagon, the golden sunset at their back as they peered deep into the gloam of the Shiverglades.

“That will take longer, will it not?”

“Likely,” Hal agreed. “And potentially risk more scouting to find an appropriate path. But aside from putting something like snowshoes on the karaks, I can’t think of a way that would let them get through the waterlogged ground.”

“It sounds like you have a destination in mind.”

“I do.” Hal took out his map and unfurled it. “You see this mountain at the center? That’s where I’m planning on going. I’m going to talk to Durvin tonight, get his take on the matter but I’m thinking that will be our best bet.”

“Because it is at the center of difficult terrain?”

“In part,” Hal said. “And because it’s an easily recognized landmark. Originally, I was thinking to stay along the Barrier Peaks to the north so that we could find a passage between the Shiverglades and the Dorner Mountains south of Murkmire. But now….”

Noth placed a hand on his shoulder. “Now you can see a kingdom. And you think having a vantage point, a symbol to rally people around is valuable. And it would be defensible. If the map is accurate, there would be much land for farming. A growing population will need a great deal of food.”

Hal was nodding along. “And the mountain will give the Boulderguts a home as well. I’ve spent time talking to them, and they would not be happy above ground. With a mountain as a home? They could live within the mountain and we could live upon it, or surrounding it. Whichever the case.”

By having a Manatree, they didn’t need to live in sheltering terrain either. An ostentatious statement in a world where that is a necessity without a Sanctum.

“You have put a great deal more thought into this than you have let on,” Noth said.

“I wasn’t sure,” Hal admitted. “Going along the harder ground at the foothills would be easier… but I want to build a capital, Noth. Not an outpost.”

Hal looked over at Noth, but the woman was staring off into the fog, her golden eyes focusing on the east. “Something’s coming.”

From the gloam to the east came a looming shadow that mocked the failing light of the setting sun. It towered above the ground so that its red-glowing eyes were at the same level as Hal and Noth atop their wagon.

Your Perception Skill has risen to Level 19.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+38%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+95%).

“Finally,” Hal said, drawing [Emissary] from the sheath at his hip.

Noth gave him a questioning look.

“The tension has been killing me,” Hal explained. “All day I was waiting for something to happen. Every strange sound in the distance set my teeth on edge. I can’t fight monsters that aren’t there, Noth. But this?” He pointed the glittering edge of [Emissary] eastward toward the shadow. “This I can fight.”

65

“They come prepared,” Aleya said, jerking her chin toward the bright ring of fire the strange short men and women brought with them. Never had such an odd assortment of lowlander races come into the Black Lands before.

“The fangrah will not be easily dissuaded from their course,” Elaise agreed, hunkered down behind a tall outcropping of moss-covered stone. She glanced at the warleader beside her, wondering what their move was.

Ever since the band of wagons came rolling into the Black Lands, Elaise had been shadowing their movements with a band of the best hunters and warriors of the Tribe of the Ebon Star had to offer.

Warleader Aleya Starsong’s presence beside her spoke volumes to the importance of this strange group. Something that went above Elaise’s head.

Every other group that had ventured into the Black Lands was summarily destroyed. Why should they test this one? Greedy lowlanders were all the same.

The Black Lands were theirs to guard and shepherd. Elaise shook her head and reminded herself that she was a scout leader and in no position to countermand Aleya’s command.

The warleader issued her orders, and the various leaders under her did their best to execute them. To do else would be to invite the chaos of the voidmist into their hearts.

And in that, lay ruin.

Rather than descend upon the group, Aleya ordered that they watch them and report their findings directly to her. What she was looking for was anybody’s guess. She took in all information and sifted through it for her prize.

The warleader had obviously found something in that last report. Once the fangrah had their wagons circled and their bowls of flame lit, three shamans were brought to Aleya’s side.

With the shamans’ power beside her, the warleader would have no trouble walking into the camp and slaughtering every single person there.

Elaise had borne witness to such brutal retribution more than once in the last two decades of her young life.

But instead of imbuing the warleader with potent protection and the strength of the Ebon Star itself, they wove their magics to create Fog Beasts.

So far out of the protections of their settlement, the voidmist would consume the magical constructs. They would last bare minutes, and all of their most potent strengths would be severely weakened. Even with three shamans all working in concert, a single Fog Beast would be less than a tenth of its usual strength.

“You have the umbral branches?” Aleya asked without taking her eyes off the strangers, the fangrah. In particular, two figures that had come out atop one of the wagons and were looking in their direction.

Elaise was far from concerned. Even if these fangrah were possessed of potent magic and keen sight, they would never see her scouts. They were the best of all the tribes of the Black Lands. None could rival their stealth and swiftness.

“I do,” Elaise answered when she realized that Aleya had turned her attention toward her. “The voidmist is getting thick, shall I light one?”

“No,” Aleya said, turning her vision back to the two figures atop the wagon. A man and a woman.

There was something unsettling about the pair to Elaise’s keen senses. Something she could not put her finger on.

That Aleya specifically instructed Elaise to gather three thick [Umbral Branches] and bring them did not sit well with the scout leader. Each of the tribe out beyond the protective stones of their home were painted with swirling lines of purple on their skin.

Elaise watched as a dark thread wound through the fog typical of dusk and dawn within the Black Lands. To any unaware, it would look like nothing more than a shadow in the mist.

But the scout leader knew the dangers of that darkness. The voidmist killed, and anything it could not kill it corrupted.

Without the tribe of the Ebon Star’s constant vigilance, the voidmist would have long-since left its prison within the fetid swamps to the north.

A dark snaking line of voidmist rolled up and over the mossy stones. Elaise eyed it warily. It was her duty to be wary after all, and with the warleader beside her she was doubly concerned.

She needn’t have worried though, as the dark coil brushed against Aleya’s hand and continued on its way. Wrapped in the protective painted runes on each of their bodies, the voidmist could do them no harm.

To the tribe of the Ebon Star, the voidmist was an old enemy. One that, with enough respect and preparation, could be defeated each and every time. Not for good. Never that. But they could ward themselves against its influence.

So long as they did not venture into those abyssal lands to the north, their protections would hold.

“Forgive me for saying so, warleader,” Elaise dared to say. “But I do not understand your intent.” She motioned at the shamans off to the side, and the three dozen Ebon Star warriors that encircled the caravan.

Already battle had been joined once or twice with the foul nighttime denizens of the Black Lands.

Nothing even the greenest of the Ebon Star warriors couldn’t handle, but it felt oddly like they were protecting the fangrah. And that was impossible. It would shatter the Horgrettr. It would mean war.

With the voidmist acting so strangely as of late and the warding stones needing constant upkeep, nobody could afford a war.

And yet, Elaise could not get the idea out of her head. That Aleya was testing the fangrah instead of annihilating them as was tradition.

As was right.

“You have seen the signs as well as I have. The Ebon Star rises, and so too must the tribe,” Aleya intoned. She had a way of speaking that, even though Elaise knew she was hinting at sacrilege, made everything she said seem reasonable and just.

Elaise couldn’t believe what she was hearing and it was the only excuse she could think of for wagging her tongue so freely to the warleader. “You would have us protect these… fangrah while the shaman’s holy purpose is twisted into a-a trial?”

A hard, steely look made the nearly six-foot-tall barbarian shrink. Elaise lowered her eyes and said, “Forgive me, warleader. I do not mean to speak out of turn.”

Aleya’s hand came up and rested on Elaise’s fur-covered shoulder. “Worry not, Elaise,” she said with a companionable shake. “Many things must change. And sooner than any of us would like. The chains of fate are soon to be rattled. We will see if these fangrah have the strength to break them, or if they can only make noise.”

Sweat chilled on Elaise’s back. She was dressed in furs and leathers, wrapped up except for her middle, thighs, and arms. Upon each of those sections of bare skin she had the swirling runes and symbols of protection painted in [Umbral Ash].

The cold of the Black Lands did not touch her as the voidmist did not touch her. But still, she shivered for the close call.

More than one wagging tongue had been cut out of its foolish head by Aleya for daring to speak out against her wishes. The tribe could not abide divisiveness.

There had to be unity and cohesion at all times.

For no other reason than to work out some of her anxiety, Elaise stood up and shifted around to the taller segment of rock. With sensitive fingertips, she found impossible handholds on the slick moss-covered stone and scaled it with the ease of a spider.

She held herself there, strong muscles honed from nearly half a century of hard work kept her in position. She gingerly peeked her head over the curving top of the stone.

Above the cover of the fog, she would be more easily seen if she was not careful. Even with their blessings and protections painted upon their bodies, it was easier by far to see without the dulling of the fog.

And there she saw the camp more fully.

Ringed in blazing fires, the fangrah had the decent idea to banish the fog with heat. If their sole concern was the cover of fog that tucked the whole of the Black Lands in every night like a chill blanket, then perhaps they were not as stupid as the others that had come through in the past.

But the real threat was the voidmist. And no flame bothered that foul darkness. Only the cold green light from setting an [Umbral Branch] aflame could banish that threat.

And even then, only temporarily.

Three branches would burn for three days, longer if used sparingly. Elaise had the worrying suspicion - one she didn’t dare voice aloud - that Aleya intended on giving the [Umbral Branches] to the fangrah if they passed her trial.

A trial, it seemed to young Elaise, that was already underway.

She had to give the man and woman atop the eastern most wagon some credit. They spotted the Fog Beast long before they should have.

The man drew out a fine blade. She recognized the [Empyreal Shardite] that made up its glittering edge as the firelight played across its length. He turned to the woman, said something, and then with a leap that would have been commendable from any Ebon Star warrior, plunged into the fog.

Elaise strained her eyes to follow the man’s movements through the thick soup of fog. Voidmist tendrils snaked all about him as he rushed toward the Fog Beast and Elaise knew the man would be dead before the Fog Beast ever laid a hand on him.

66

Splicing aberration and eldritch essence, Hal leaped off the wagon’s roof with a Convergence powered surge. He cleared the ten feet above the nearest brazier easily, sailing above the surprised dwarf’s head who fell back and then gave a shout when a second form - that of Noth’s - streaked through the air after Hal.

“Monster, three o’clock!” Hal called out, as the shape was directly to the east.

In the few seconds of flight, Hal tossed Noth a party invite. He gave out the rest to Elora, Ashera, Mira, and Angram. He didn’t think it was necessary to bring their full force to bear, but Hal figured it couldn’t hurt to have the backup.

Just in case.

Hal came down harder than he expected on the mushy ground. He intended to roll to absorb some of the impact but he sunk straight up to his knees as soon as he landed.

Seeing his predicament, Noth came down softer and pitched forward to force the roll that Hal had failed to initiate. She popped up just as Hal managed to extricate himself and together they ran on toward the shadowy beast in the distance.

By then alarm bells were already ringing. He didn’t expect the monster would pose much of a threat. Something about it felt… weak. Insubstantial.

“Something is not right,” Noth said beside him. “There is a foulness to the air.”

Hal nodded. He could feel it too, though likely much less than her. It had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up straight.

Your left! Besal cried in Hal’s head.

He didn’t know why he trusted the voice, but Hal reacted instantly. Twisting and leaping, he pivoted enough to see the dark coil of smoke reaching through the fog toward him.

An arcing glint of yellow and blue crystal flashed through the air, severing the tendril. The main body of it rolled back within the confines of the shifting fog. The part he severed dissipated into smoke.

“Watch out for the black smoky tentacles,” Hal called out to Noth. “There may be something else in the fog with us.” He summoned Feather Barrier, and using Empathy, passed that protection on to Noth.

Noth pressed against his back, her black scythe whipping about as the strange smoky tendrils filtered through the mist like black threads. “Hal, look.”

Following Noth’s gaze, Hal looked up at the creature towering before them. It shook in place, black threads lacing up and down its partially immaterial form.

Its red eyes went dark and when they relit, the light was a ghostly blue. A cry rang out from somewhere farther in, but Hal couldn’t pay much attention to it. Those black threads of smoke were coming on again and Hal was hard pressed just weaving his sword back and forth in a defensive pattern.

“I’m good here,” Noth said, urging Hal toward the creature made of fog. “But I’m not going to be if that thing joins the fight.”

Cutting three tendrils at once, Hal twisted and pushed his Convergence strength into his legs, speeding him along. Tendrils of black smoke whipped at the air where he was half a second ago.

Out came Hal’s [Chain of Binding], quickly wrapped around his left wrist. Doubting it would work, but still trying anyway, Hal cracked a heavy Convergence-fueled whip toward the Fog Beast.

The whip whistled through the air, creating a hauntingly ethereal sound in the muffling fog that flowed all around him.

As he suspected, despite enacting the chain’s magical binding nature, it cut straight through the creature’s misty body. That was fine for him. He had other uses for the chain.

A powerful leap brought Hal up eye-to-eye. He channeled Convergence into his strength and his sword arm as he whipped about. The horizontal strike was aimed at the creature’s glowing eyes. Hal felt a grim sense of satisfaction when he felt the wickedly sharp edge hit something solid.

Normally, his sword in its inert state would deal around 140 damage. With an additional crystal lightning damage of 17.

Decent enough on its own, especially compared to his earlier weapons. Putting every last drop of Convergence into strength right before the strike nearly doubled that to just around 240.

His temporarily enhanced strength did nothing for the additional crystalline lightning damage that arced between the two glowing orbs of light.

A hand of fog came down to swat at him, and Hal knew it would get to him before he ever made it to the ground to dodge aside.

But he didn’t need to.

With a rolling twisting motion of his wrist, he let out more of his chain and then whipped his arm back. His eyes set on a heavy-looking stone, Hal sent the chain singing through the air toward its target.

Enacting the binding effect of the chain, Hal tugged with all of his Convergence-laden strength. The air behind him shifted and he felt the chill hand of the behemoth narrowly miss him.

Even as Hal landed, he was shifting his Convergence to his legs and twisting about to strike back at the monster. Only this time, he let some of the mana stored within [Emissary] flood out into its wondrously savage edge.

The empyreal shardite edge flared to life as its inner light shifted from yellow to blue. Its crystalline light blew back the threads of black and the fog alike.

The blade cleaved at eye level again. Hal’s blade carved against the glowing eyes, dealing just shy of 300 points of damage at 278. While the lightning effect jumped up to 25 points of damage, bringing the total even higher.

For such a small price, the damage improvement was great.

A cloud of fog condensed around Hal and halted his descent. He was already falling into spellcasting. A streaking, diving shadow fell from above and crashed into the creature’s glowing eyes.

You cast Divebomb.

Synergy Triggered!

The [Corrupted Fog Beast | Lv.40] takes 458 points of damage.

You defeat the [Corrupted Fog Beast].

The Fog Beast staggered back and its grip became immaterial as fog once more. Hal dropped to the ground, absorbing the blow by rolling to the side on the muck-strewn ground. He sprang to his feet, with another spell ready to go.

But upon looking at the message, he knew it was unnecessary and let it go. The lack of EXP, sparks, or even monster essence was concerning. That hadn’t happened before.

His answer came in the form of a tall statuesque woman flanked by two burly men stripped to the waist and covered in swirling purple patterns. As they walked toward him, the fog parted and the black tendrils fled before them just as it did before the glowing edge of Hal’s blade.

Noth, no longer harried by the strange black smoke, went to Hal’s side. “What was that all about?”

Hal jerked his chin toward the newcomers. “I expect they’ve got something to do with it.”

The tall blonde woman, obviously the leader of the bunch, came forward. She wore a mix of leather and furs with metal armor mixed in. Her cloak was made of some shifting black fur that had an iridescent quality like an oil slick.

Ridiculously, she had an open midriff, exposed thighs, and parts of her arms were bare as well. Purple body paint was clearly visible on each, hinting at magical protections where the physical ones were lacking.

Black feathers stuck out of her golden hair, shaped in such a way that they resembled raven’s wings. Hal wasn’t tall but neither was he short, he was slightly north of six feet tall but this woman could easily look him in the eyes.

Not a common feat. Only Mira could achieve the same and elves were notoriously tall. This woman looked nothing like an elf. Every inch of her screamed murder.

“Take,” she said, making a motion with her hand. Not to the attendants at either side of her, Hal noticed, but at somebody behind them.

A red-headed woman wearing similar - if less ornate - armor came forward out of the mist to the side. Hal hadn’t even seen her there.

Her ice-blue eyes were hard and her jaw was set. Purple swirls of paint decorated the bare parts of her body and two angular lines swept up her cheekbones. She reminded Hal of Mira a little with the left side of her head done up in tight braids while the rest of her gingery hair fell over the right side of her face.

She tossed Hal a small satchel. Three black-as-night sticks poked out of it. As soon as Hal grabbed it, he noted the name, [Umbral Branches]. When he looked up, the blonde woman and the muscular attendants were already turning to go.

One of them broke off toward the site of the dead Fog Beast. He bent down and retrieved two black jewels. Before Hal could find his voice, they were gone. Except for the red-headed woman who was scowling at him.

The head of the fur cloak on her shoulder looked like a wolf… if a wolf had an extra eye socket in its forehead and was three times its normal size. Its fur was a silvery-blue, no doubt aiding her camouflage within the fog.

“What are these?” Hal asked her, lifting up the bag of sticks.

Looking over her shoulder, the red-head let out a great sigh. For a moment her shoulders sagged under an immense weight but she shook her head and straightened.

She stuck her chin out, and said in her halting command of common, “I stay.” Pointing at the bag of sticks she added, “Will show.”

67

“This is a lot to trust,” Ashera warned.

“I know,” Hal replied, dragging a hand down his tired and stubbled face.

“She could turn on us at any moment,” Elora added.

“I know.”

“Lighting these umbral things might be a trap,” Angram said.

“I know.”

“I ain’t fer trustin’ some random she-devil that waltzes out o’ the fog like some ghost,” Durvin grumped.

“I know,” came Hal’s refrain.

“She’s pretty stacked,” Mira said but delivered in the same grim tone as everybody else.

“I kno-” Hal was about to say as he caught on to Mira’s prank. He rolled his eyes at her.

They had been arguing the same points over and over again ever since Hal brought Elaise, the barbarian woman into the camp. She couldn’t speak common very well, but she seemed resolute in staying and helping. Even if she clearly did not want to.

From what Elaise said, they could burn the [Umbral Branches] and it would drive back the voidmist. Without the light of the branches, they wouldn’t last another day. Already her tribe was pulling back its protective ring.

The dwarves had wanted to stoke the braziers even hotter to drive back the fog. It was no coincidence to Hal that the fog came on even more aggressively after the barbarians left.

That was, of course, if Elaise could be believed.

It could be unrelated, as Angram argued, but Hal didn’t think so. Likely, the elven Ranger was stung that they had been surrounded by a tribe of enemies with none of the Rangers any wiser.

His pride was wounded more than anything, and it was an easier thing to consider that the woman was lying than to think that an enemy could sneak up so completely on the caravan.

Hal kept that all to himself. There was no reason to go rubbing salt in the wound. He knew that the Rangers worked tirelessly to safeguard the caravan at all hours. They were stretched thin. Even with the karaks helping, there simply weren’t enough of them.

The whole thing struck Hal as amusing. Something that seemed to frustrate everybody else in the wagon.

By all rights, they had been surrounded by a powerful force. Despite the Rangers keen eyes. Despite the increased sentry duty. Despite the brightly burning braziers. All of their attempted defenses were useless.

There had been no fighting, not beyond that strange Fog Beast and even then that wasn’t much of a fight. A few bruises were all Hal had from when the brute squeezed him.

It hadn’t even attacked the caravan.

While Hal walked over the memories of the fight in his head, the table erupted into more arguing. Despite the encroaching fog and the insistence of Elaise to light the [Umbral Branches], nobody had done so yet.

“If I defeat somebody’s familiar or summon, would I get experience points for it?” he asked. It was the only thing that made sense. The Fog Beast wasn’t a monster, or else it would have given experience. Barring that, it should have given essence or something.

Komachi jerked her furry muzzle toward Hal with a shocked expression.

When Hal realized how it might sound to the little pobul, he tried to reach out and pet her to comfort her. Komachi shrank away and scurried into Elora’s armor head-first. Her thick tail draped out along with her velvety back paws.

“Komachi,” Hal said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean you.”

The pobul chirped and squeaked indignantly, though it was muffled from within Elora’s leather armor.

“You know the entire caravan would stop anybody from raising a hand against you, Komachi,” Hal went on.

Komachi gave an assenting squeak.

Elora reached down and pet Komachi’s tail. It flopped all about like a live wire and the pobul giggled and chirped happily.

“You wouldn’t, as far as I know,” Ashera answered. “They don’t give anything since they cannot be defeated, only banished. Maybe if you killed the summoner but….” She shrugged, showing the limits of her knowledge.

That only bolstered Hal’s belief that the whole thing had been set up.

“I’m going to light them,” Hal said with finality. He held up a hand to hold back the tide of complaints. “We’ll see what happens. If, as Elaise says, it banishes the fog and that voidmist, then we’ll hear what else she has to say. If something happens, then we will deal with it as it comes. Either way, we’ll find out.”

There was more than a little grumbling at that - mostly out of Durvin - but nobody outrightly disagreed. With a nod, Hal took the bag of sticks and headed out of the wagon.

Fog streamed over the ground. Like the ocean tide, it ebbed and flowed.

The braziers were burning low as the fog smothered them instead of being pushed back. Bag in one hand, Hal drew out one of the black branches. It was fairly thick, about the size of his forearm around and nearly four feet long.

The wood had a strange sooty texture to it but when he pulled his hand away there was no residue. He dipped the end into the nearest campfire, already beginning to gutter.

A spectral green flame flickered to life. The effect was immediate.

All around the caravan the fog peeled back as if a great giant blew it all away. In the fog’s masking absence, they could easily make out the threading black voidmist. A second passed, then two, and by the third, the voidmist was gone.

It didn’t peel back like the fog, it was simply gone. As if it never was there in the first place.

Elaise turned toward him, the bonfire at the center of the caravan backlighting her figure as she stalked toward him. The skulls that dangled on her armor bounced without a whisper of sound. “Believe now?”

“I do,” Hal said. He motioned to the caravan. “You said there was something else you were commanded to do. Now that we’ve pushed back this voidmist, will you tell me?”

She pointed to herself, two fingers double-tapping her sternum. Then she pointed with those same two fingers eastward. “Two days. I take you. Guide, understand?”

Hal furrowed his brow. “Alone? I won’t leave the-”

She shook her head, her braids swaying back and forth. “Take all. Show safe path. Lowlanders path death.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” Hal asked. He wasn’t comforted by that thought.

Elaise shook her head.

“But you’ll show us the safe paths to take, wherever it is we are going?”

She shrugged, as if she didn’t understand completely. “I guide.”

“Fair enough,” Hal said with a nod.

“I guide now.” And though Hal called out to Elaise, she didn’t turn around.

The tall barbarian stalked to the eastern end of the caravan and waited.

Hal called the caravan drivers back to their task. They were to break camp immediately and follow Elaise’s lead. Hal informed his friends - doubling as the Bravers Guild Council at the moment - that he intended not to go north toward the Barrier Peaks but to the central mountain, the sole landmark in all of the Shiverglades.

To his great surprise, nobody objected. Durvin even gave Hal a nod of approval. Far from what he expected out of the dwarf. He figured the Bouldergut clan would prefer to be closer to their cousins to the north of Murkmire.

Few people saw the barbarian throughout the hours of the night. She left glowing markers, painted sigils on the sides of towering trees and listing stones as big as a house.

Using those readily visible markers as their guides, they had no trouble making their way southeast. Hal was not alone in his doubts of traveling at night.

They had stopped at night mostly because of the dangers of nighttime travel. In the dark, it would be easy to fall into a ravine, a pool of water that was deceptively deep, or for one of the karaks to twist its foot.

All manner of nasty things could befall them. There simply wasn’t enough of a reason to do it. But with Elaise urging them on, they didn’t have much of a choice.

Throughout the night and into the morning, the barbarian returned only briefly to warn of a particularly dangerous area up ahead. The Shiverglades - or the Black Lands as she called them - truly lived up to their name.

The farther inland they went, the colder and more miserable it became. The ghastly green flame that pushed both fog and voidmist away may protect them from the black threads but it did nothing for the cold.

More than once they came upon swampy ground frosted and glittering in the early morning light. Though it pained Angram to say, he admitted that they were making better time than they would ever be able to without Elaise.

She knew the Shiverglades like they were the back of her hand.

When Hal showed her the mountain on his map, she instantly understood where he wanted to go. Though her incredulous look and snort of derisive laughter told him more than she could properly communicate.

The drivers, with the exception of Lurklox, all took shifts. Even the Kweh Gang pitched in at the behest of Komachi, taking their turns pulling the wagons along while tired karaks were squeezed into the wagons to sleep.

It was all a tight and uncomfortable affair.

By the time the first branch burned down to ash, they were within sight of the massive mountain at the center of the Shiverglades. They swung to the north, putting the mountain on their right side and then entered a darkly wooded stretch of untamed forest.

Upon the sturdier ground, the karaks could put more of their vaunted speed to use. They spotted the swift-footed barbarian more often during that stretch. With Elaise marking each tree along the path, the karaks had no problem keeping the wagons away from their mighty trunks.

Even during the midday sun, the dark of the forest was complete. More than once a dwarf remarked how it felt like a mockery of a dwarven tunnel.

When they finally broke from the forest, the mountain loomed ahead of them to the south. The ground was broken into rocky steps and large jagged outcroppings of stone littered the region.

Their goal was within sight, but it would take at least another half day to reach the base of the mountain. Hal’s goal.

The map didn’t do the mountain justice. It was truly a sight to behold. Ridgelines spread out to smaller peaks in a crown surrounding the towering behemoth.

As the [Explorer’s Map] began to fill in, Hal gained a steady stream of Exploration Levels.

Your Exploration has risen to Level 9.

…

Your Exploration has risen to Level 13.

+10% Faster drawing speed (+130%).

+3% Discoverable range (+39%).

You have 1 Exploration Perk point awaiting distribution.

Explorer 0/1

As an explorer, your passion is finding new places and hidden nooks. Your ability to find hidden areas increases by 0.5% per Exploration Level. In addition, you gain Experience Points every time you discover a new location.

Trailblazer 0/1

Just exploring isn’t enough, you need to forge new trails and paths ahead. Trailblazers gain area effects based on the amount of area discovered. The less an area is currently mapped the greater the area effect is.

Hal jumped at the chance to take Explorer. While Trailblazer was good, he planned on making this area his home. And Trailblazer had severely diminishing returns. Meanwhile, Explorer might even help him find a proper home. One sheltered and hidden away.

They rode across marshy ground that soon became solid and firm as it rose up the rocky foothills. Hal’s tired mind - he hadn’t slept at all since the first [Umbral Branch] was lit - began envisioning the towns and fields he would make and the best places to construct defensive towers and walls.

“We’re home,” Hal muttered, as they came around a rocky spur to see a large waterfall cascading out of the southern face of the mountain.

68

“We take the time and build it right,” Hal said, pitching his voice over the distant roar of the swift waters that emptied into the waterfall below. “Or we build it fast, and build it multiple times when we find the quality lacking.”

Durvin lifted his gnarled thick-fingered hands. “Ye don’t gotta tell me,” he said. “Dwarves are knowin’ how to do a job right the first time, don’t ye doubt.”

“People are sick of the wagons,” Elora put in. “We range up and down these mountain spurs, across this ridgeline or that, and you have still not selected a spot for the Manaseed. Much less the settlement.”

Hal could see she was trying - and failing - to put a stopper on her temper. The last two days had been much the same.

Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Elora continued, “Are the wagons to be our homes now? Not to mention, Elaise has been increasingly agitated. The two additional umbral branches she procured will be the last she will find for us. You heard her yourself.”

Waving a hand for Elora to stop, Hal nodded. “I was there. That gives us time yet. I will find a suitable location,” he vowed.

“I sincerely hope so, Hal,” Elora said, turning to the south.

They stood on top of a low ridgeline stretching out from the main mountain on its eastern side. The going had been rough and Hal was keenly aware of the time constraints.

But there was something wrong with each proposed location. While there were several potential sites on the northern face of the mountain, something told Hal they were wrong for the Manaseed.

He couldn’t say why and that frustrated not only himself but his friends as well. However, none were more annoyed with the delay than their most recent addition, Elaise.

She loomed everywhere Hal went, questioning him in her halting command of common. And often reverting to her natural tongue where she was no doubt cursing up a storm. Hal heard the word “fangrah” more than once and it did not seem a flattering word.

If not for Elaise’s procurement of two more [Umbral Branches], they would have been forced to settle somewhere less than ideal.

Hal knew with bone-deep certainty that the Manaseed would repel the voidmist. It would keep them safe, even if its range was minimal. He wasn’t worried about that.

But the Manatree needed a proper home. A place where it could send its roots deep.

Hal found more than half a dozen gorgeous vistas that would provide startlingly breathtaking views for the future citizens. Places that afforded impossible landscape images of snowcapped mountain peaks, valleys of thick forests, and the silver gleaming ribbons of rivers.

But he still had not found the right home.

He had the sneaking suspicion that Elaise was waiting for just such an occasion, though he could not say why. Another test? Hal shook his head, ran a hand through his long dark hair, and sighed.

Komachi had more to do with the additional [Umbral Branches] than anything else. Elaise was rather smitten with the tiny creature - as were they all - and seemed to delight in conversing with her.

Because, for reasons Hal couldn’t begin to fathom, Komachi could understand the woman’s harsh language. Just as the woman could somehow understand Komachi’s squeaks and chirps.

This place wasn’t right either.

Turning his head to the right, Hal spied Noth up on a nearby ridge. Though she was hardly more than a few football fields away, it would take the rest of the day to bring the caravan down into the rocky vale and then up to her position.

Everybody was frustrated with the slow pace and the constant dangers around them. The Rangers and the dwarves had the security of the caravan well in hand, but Hal still felt a pang of guilt every time he heard the din of a battle being joined while he was safely away on one vantage point or another.

He was no Ranger, though. His job, he reminded himself constantly, was to place the Manaseed in the best location for the future of the Sanctum.

There was no telling when he might get another Manaseed and it was paramount that this one be used wisely.

Noth turned to Hal and started to wave to get his attention, then noticed he was already looking her way. Hal was glad for the distance between them at that moment. Hopefully, she would think he was looking at something in the distance instead of her.

After a moment she raised a piece of crystal that was polished to a brilliant sheen and with a twist of her wrist flashed a message toward him by reflecting the waning light of the day.

Hal raised his own piece of crystal and flashed it twice back at her, letting her know he understood.

The code was simple, and all Noth had told him was that she thought the valley below was promising. She would move on to the next ridge, one that was placed almost directly in the southeast shadow of the mountain.

That was another oddity. So far, everything had a name if he came near it. But aside from the title for the general area of the Shiverglades, Hal had no further prompts.

Even the mountain that rose higher than Everest could ever dream of seemed to have no name. With a shake of his head, Hal went back to the makeshift table. They had stopped bringing the caravans up to the top of every ridge - unless it was necessary to cross into the next valley - purely to save time.

The caravans were already rolling across the valley between his position and where Noth had been moments before.

“What’re ye thinkin’?” Durvin asked, hands on his stout hips. His bronze beard practically glinted in the light.

Hal shook his head and the dwarf took it in stride with a nod.

Elora opened her mouth to say something and Durvin gently laid a thick hand on her arm. She looked at him in surprise, Durvin offered her a small shake of his shaggy head and then walked on.

When Elora looked back at Hal, her blue-gray eyes held far more sympathy than before. She nodded to him and without a word of argument began to gather up her things.

Angram and Ashera waited for Hal to fold up the table into its tiny cube-shaped form and together the three picked their way down the ridge to rejoin the caravan.

The next ridge was much the same, and the one after that.

By the time they camped for the night, nobody was in a particularly good mood. Several gorgeous areas rich with minerals, forests that spread out to the south for miles, and clean mountain spring water aplenty were already denied.

How many more could he pass up before they demanded he finally choose?

Dinner was a subdued affair. With the fog thick around them in a wall nearly fifty feet high, they could see little else of their surroundings.

Everything felt so claustrophobic.

The next day dawned bright, and with one final [Umbral Branch] remaining to be lit, Hal knew he would have to choose that day. Whether or not it was what the Manaseed wanted.

Once more, Noth resumed her duties as a forward scout with Yesel while the rest of the Rangers kept the denizens of the Shiverglades off their flanks.

Half the day was burned away already by clearing rockslides for the caravan or finding a path into the adjacent valley. Hal was sweaty, dirty, and tired.

So when he climbed that last ridge with the help of his shadow essence appendages, expecting to see Noth on the next, he was surprised to find her not above but below. In the valley.

And he soon understood why.

The entire valley was belled out at the edges. The ridges on either side curved around like a protective parent safeguarding their child.

Only at the southernmost edge did the two ridges abruptly end, providing a narrow gap into the spacious valley below. It looked like the remnants of a giant doorway.

Rivers crisscrossed the green forested region below. The land rose up on steps of flat ground the closer they were to the mountain’s base. From within, there were two lakes that gathered at the western and eastern ridges of the valley, which were fed from waterfalls that broke through the sheer cliff.

The whole thing resembled a bowl or a crater with sheer sides. It was unlike anything Hal had seen so far. At the far end, closest to the base of the mountain, there was a dark spot on the stone.

It was there that Noth and Yesel were gathered, and as Hal strained his eyes the dark splotch resolved into a wide crack. A way into the mountain.

Your Perception has risen to Level 20.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+40%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+100%).

+10% Danger sense (+40%).

You have 1 Perception Perk point awaiting assignment.

Premonition 1/1

Gain the ability to see outlines and indicators where powerful attacks are about to land moments before they hit.

Preternatural Dodge 0/1

Requirement: Premonition

When Premonition triggers, time seems to slow down providing you precious seconds to get out of the way in time. All onlookers perceive you as suddenly much faster if they lack this perk.

Keen Eyes 0/3

Increase your range of perceiving things through visual and audio cues.

Lv1: Vision & Hearing Range +35%.

Lv2: Vision & Hearing Range +60%.

Lv3: Vision & Hearing Range +120%.

Awareness 0/3

Increase your situational awareness, making Critical Hits and ambushes less likely.

Lv1: -10% Critical Hit & Ambush chance | -5% Critical Hit damage.

Lv2: -20% Critical Hit & Ambush chance | -10% Critical Hit damage.

Lv3: -35% Critical Hit & Ambush chance | -20% Critical Hit damage.

Your Exploration has risen to Level 14.

+10% Faster drawing speed (+140%).

+3% Discoverable range (+42%).

+0.5% Hidden location discovery (+7.0%).

+200 Experience Points.

As soon as Hal read Preternatural Dodge, he took it. He didn’t even need to read the other older perks.

Discovering a new area seemed to give a variable amount of EXP. This spot gained him 200 EXP, but the last two only gave about 150 each. Still, free EXP was not something he was going to complain about.

It meant that he would be rewarded for exploring their new home.

When Durvin stomped up to join him, the dwarf let out an appreciative whistle. One by one, each of his friends came to see what he was looking at and were similarly blown away.

It was exactly what Hal was looking for. The emanations from the Manaseed agreed.

But it was Elora that truly surprised Hal. She placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to peel his gaze away from the valley below. “I take it all back, this is perfect, Hal.”

“Let’s find a way to get the caravan into there.” Hal couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. He knew just where to put the Manaseed and he knew just who could help him plant it.

69

Hal turned to Elora, motioning at the lump in Elora’s heavy jacket that warded off the cold. Catching his meaning, she pulled out the slumbering pobul. She shivered and clung to Elora, coming awake abruptly.

Her whiskers twitched as she scented the air, turning her dark brown eyes on Hal.

“Komachi, would you like to help me?” he asked.

“Komachi?” inquired the curious pobul.

“I have a very special task for you, should you accept. One, I think, that only a pobul of your exceptional talents and-” Hal stopped, as Komachi seemed to tune him out.

The pobul was digging one dexterous little pad into her nose. When she noticed, she paused and turned to Hal. Her little paw came out and so did whatever she was digging around for.

Komachi gave her paw a little shake, but the lump of strangely golden-colored snot didn’t dislodge. Frantic, the pobul shook her paw all around spastically until the glob swung free and disappeared somewhere in the grass to the side.

“Komachi,” she said sagely, putting on a straight face.

Continuing, Hal said, “What I was trying to ask was; would you like to help me plant the Manaseed, Komachi?”

“Komachi!” cried the happy little pobul.

Hal took that for a yes.

It took them hours to get the caravan through the adjacent valley and up to the towering gate that granted admittance into the wide valley that would soon become their home.

The Guild had Leveled just after arriving at the mountain and Hal kept the newly granted perk in reserve for the express use of spending it to improve their settlement archetype.

With the slower speed of the wagons, it would take them at least another hour to reach the spot he intended for the Manatree. A location dead center of the valley’s main floor.

He didn’t want it anywhere up high, where people might look at it but never know its shade. The Manatree was meant to be something for everybody. Not just the ruling class or the wealthy.

This was a gift to his people.

Every one of his companions joined him as he made the trek by foot through the forests and clambering along the stony outcrops to reach the center of the valley well ahead of the caravan.

The spot was unremarkable to Hal’s eyes. A clearing of tall grass with the occasional tumble of stone sticking up like an island of white in a sea of green.

“Here,” Hal said, turning to Komachi who laid on his shoulder - something she never did before.

Komachi fussed with the Manaseed in her paws, rolling it about like it was a stone. She looked over at Hal and slithered down his shoulder and extended arm to the tall grass below as if he had no friction to his clothing.

In true Komachi fashion, she looked up at Hal, then darted to the side three or four yards. “Eh, this place better.”

Hal looked at her with heavy lids. “Does Komachi say that, or the Manaseed?”

She fussed with the Manaseed a bit more, rolling it around in her paws as she stood on her hind legs. With a furtive glance to the side, she hurried back to Hal. “Maybe this better.”

“She has a strong independent streak,” Elora said softly to Hal. She had something in her hands, a small parcel she was opening with great care.

Turning his attention back to Komachi, he crouched and motioned for her to begin. The pobul looked at him, then Elora, then back to the Manaseed in one paw. She handed the glassy looking orb to Hal and began to dig with surprising speed.

Dirt flew in every direction and within a minute a deep hole of rich, black loamy soil - perfect for farming, Hal noted - stood before them. Hal handed the Manaseed back to Komachi and she scampered into the middle of the hole she made.

With delicate paws, the pobul scooped out just enough dirt to place the Manaseed within and covered it with the remaining dirt. She stood up on her hind legs again, but this time took her tail in both paws.

Komachi looked at all the gathered faces and squonked loudly. “No looking!”

Most everybody turned except for Hal and Elora. Komachi seemed to find this acceptable, if not ideal, and hefted her thick tapered tail a bit higher.

She pointed the tip of her tail at the spot she buried the Manaseed. Hal understood it was just a tail. He knew that. But he still couldn’t dismiss the fact that when Komachi slid one bracing paw back and forth against its furry length, it made the exact sound of racking a shotgun.

A glittering spray of water erupted from Komachi’s tail and darkened the already black soil further as she watered it. Tiny rainbows arced in the air wherever the water splashed and created a faint mist.

It lasted only seconds and then Komachi was quickly scampering back to Elora, chirping and squeaking the entire way.

At Hal’s side, Vorax imparted his curiosity to Hal and his approval. The Manatree would grow strong there.

As if to accentuate the point, the black soil shifted and a tiny seedling erupted. Two leaves on a thin stalk stretched toward the sky.

The air rippled with a magical shockwave spreading out from the epicenter of the newly planted Manaseed.

Area Effect: Blessing of the Manaseed.

+50% HP Regeneration.

+50% SP Regeneration.

+50% MP Regeneration.

-25% Strain.

Negative area effects nullified within the influence range of the Manaseed.

Influence Range: 1 Mile.

[Manaseed: Unnamed] gains 3,000 Experience Points.

[Manaseed: Unnamed] attains Level 2.

+10% Influence Range (1.2 Miles).

Your Leadership has risen to Level 25(30).

+1% Party Damage (30%).

+2% Leadership Efficacy (+60%).

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 8.

+3% Manatree spell potency (+24%).

You learn Manatorpor.

By focusing your attunement with the Manatree’s essence inside, you have gained the ability to create a magical bubble. All enemies that enter this bubble of magic will be dramatically slowed, their movements sluggish as if in a thick gel. All stamina costs of enemies caught within Manatorpor’s range are doubled.

Casting within the influence of a friendly Manatree doubles range and duration.

School: Manatree.

Range: 30ft radius.

Duration: 100 minutes.

Cost: 208 MP.

Manaseed Guardian Unlocked.

As the Manaseed’s Guardian, you now have access to the Manatree System. As the Manaseed grows and evolves through its stages, it will become more powerful and capable. Each day the Manaseed generates Elysian Points (EP).

EP can be reinvested to bolster your Manaseed’s capabilities or to speed up its progression toward the next evolution or Level. EP can also be utilized to provide benefits within the influence range of the Manaseed.

[Manatree]

Guardian: Hal Williams

Level: 2

Experience Points: 750/2,650

HP: 350/350

EP: 0

EP Generation: 2/day

Soul Tether Unlocked.

As the Manaseed’s Guardian you are tied to your Manaseed. If you so choose, you can tether your soul to the Manaseed, binding this location as your respawn point. If you fall, and your Manaseed is still standing it will pull your soul back to the material plane and resurrect you.

Resurrection Cost: 100 EP.

Impenetrable Defense Unlocked.

A Manaseed is incredibly vulnerable. While in this state, you can forego all EP generation, instead funnel that strength into a spherical barrier that surrounds the Manaseed. Any damage it receives will emit an alarm sound that all sentient creatures within its influence range will be aware of.

The barrier will also slow the growth of the Manaseed considerably as it will no longer be able to pull mana from the air or draw from the Worldshard. With the barrier up, however, the Manaseed is practically invulnerable.

Cost: All EP Generation.

Would you like to initiate Soul Tether?

Hal started at that. He thought it was something that would take a lot longer to achieve. This was what Elora had told him about so long ago. It was something more than the selfish desire to safeguard against death that drove him to accept it.

Looking after the Manaseed was important to him. It was more than a symbol. More than the promise of safety. It was a life all its own and it deserved to be nurtured.

As the Manaseed tethered his soul to it, a thin silvery cord stretched out between Hal’s navel and the Manaseed. He understood that the process was costly. At its current rate of EP generation, it would take 50 days for Hal to come back if he died.

Long enough for his home to be wiped out. His first priority was to grow the settlement and the Manatree as fast as possible.

His thoughts were derailed as he felt a glowing warmth emanate from his chest. A golden tether, one he had not seen in a long while, appeared between him and Noth.

Noth, similarily surprised looked at the tether then him. Her eyes followed from Hal to the green seedling where his silver threaded tether connected. They both started in surprise as their golden tether became streaked with silver.

When it was done, Hal felt the same as he always had. And his friends, all standing nearby, didn’t seem to notice anything was amiss.

The golden tether faded from view, but Hal knew it was still there. And so did Noth. Rather than be concerned, Noth shot him a bashful smile.

He didn’t know if the Manaseed could tether more than one soul, but considering the unique bond Hal and Noth possessed, perhaps its protection extended to Noth as well.

It was a comforting thought. That come what may, he wouldn’t be alone.

70

Hal was about to tell them about the Manaseed’s abilities when another prompt stole his breath. And judging by the sharp intake of breath around him as Elora’s pobul cried out in distress, his friends all received the same notification.

Guild Mission: Claim Dispute.

By planting the Manaseed and declaring your intent to settle this untamed land, the monsters of the Shiverglades have been roused to your presence. They will rise against you to push you from their land.

Survive against their hordes throughout the night of the assault to claim this land as yours. Fail and you will be just another unfortunate group that was laid low by the Shiverglades.

Objectives

- Survive all waves of enemies until the light of dawn.

- Manaseedling survives.

- More than 50% of your force survives.

- Additional objectives available.

Rewards

- Manaseedling EXP (Variable).

- Guild EXP (Variable).

- Guild Reputation Bonus (Variable).

- Shiverglade Tribes Reputation (Variable).

- EXP (Variable).

- Additional rewards available.

A small timer appeared in the upper left quadrant of Hal’s vision. Hal breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the time until the attack: 7 days. For a moment, he thought it would be far sooner. Even that night.

If it had, they would suffer more than a few casualites. Even the Manastorm for all its fury was a battle that hardly took an hour and they had magical defenses against the creatures.

This would not be a battle that would be won by killing an enemy commander as Hal had done. It would be a brutal pitched battle that would last all night long. In the dark.

Already the slanting rays of the sun were only cast over half of the valley, courtesy of the high western walls. Hal looked south toward the mouth of the valley.

While most of their new home was sheltered by sheer cliff walls, the entrance was several hundred yards across. A sizeable force - far more than they could handle - would have no problem flooding through that gap.

Seven days no longer seemed like such a luxury of time when a large amount of fortifications would need to be made. They had near to 30 tons of stone, but Hal was under no illusion that it would build a significant portion of the needed defenses.

A sturdy, defensible wall would be his first priority.

Without it, they would be overrun. Luckily, a good portion of his Guild contained crafters and gatherers. Even the most battle-hardened dwarf was a skilled mason.

And right then, that’s what their settlement needed. Strong stone walls to hold back and funnel the tide of enemies that threatened to wash over them.

Maybe he was blowing things out of proportion. Perhaps it would only be a few scattered pockets of enemies. And if that was the case, he would be happy to have wasted the time building strong defenses.

Because the next time the force arrayed against them may not be so small.

Guild Missions

Belonging to a Guild allows you to participate in wider world events. Aldim will now react to the presence of your Guild, prompting Guild Missions at certain times. Any member of a Guild may trigger a Guild Mission. The event, while optional, will have negative repercussions for failure (opting-out counts as failure). The more Guild Missions your Guild completes, the more Renown attained.

Renown Unlocked

Separate from reputation, renown acts as a baseline modifier for your interactions with the other Guilds and Societies of Aldim. Like reputation, it affects your standing with these groups. However, unlike reputation, renown increases your starting reputation level with others.

Higher renown not only increases your reputation level with already known factions but with those you have yet to come into contact with. With a high enough renown, even far-away empires will know of your Guild’s deeds.

Durvin nudged Hal in the ribs. “Good thing ye got a narrow gap. I’ll get me best engineers on it, don’t ye worry. We’ll have fortifications up in half that time!”

Before Hal could offer his thanks, the dwarf was already turned around and pumping his short powerful legs in fast retreat.

Hal sighed and shook his head. He didn’t doubt Durvin’s enthusiasm but the entire caravan only recently found their new home. They didn’t even have a name for the settlement yet.

What materials they had on the caravan needed to be properly rationed.

Elora and Ashera were watching him. The Ranger had Komachi in her jacket once more. It was cold in the Shiverglades. Far colder now that they were at the base of the mountain at its heart.

The little pobul didn’t like it. Elora even received a quest to find something to keep Komachi warm. As much as her familiar loved rooting around in Elora’s clothes, she needed something more.

But they were all so busy as of late - and soon to be even busier, it seemed - that Elora settled to bring Komachi with her wherever she went. Hal wanted to help, particularly for the role Komachi played in spurring the Manaseed along.

It would have to wait, he knew, until they were safe from the impending threat. There was so much to do.

“Elora, I need you to take some of the Rangers that are skilled at gathering and scout the forests. We’re going to need a lot of strong timber. Ashera, I need you to take at least one or two Rangers with you to find any useful herbs that may be scattered about. I’m going to entrust you to make medicine for the coming battle.

“Angram, take as many people as you deem necessary. We need this entire valley scouted from wall to wall. If there’s a gap where something can come through, I need to know of it.”

“Aside from the huge hole in the mountain?” Mira asked, pointing to the north.

“Yes, Mira aside from that. But that gives me a good idea,” Hal said, turning toward her. The other three were already gone, headed off to deal with their assigned tasks. “Take a few dwarves and see what’s in the mountain. Don’t go far, I just need to know if it’s dangerous or not.”

“And if it is?” she asked.

“Then we’ll need to cave it in so it’s not,” Hal said simply. Mira’s face lit up at the prospect of destruction.

“Man,” she said, putting one hand on her hip and fanning herself with her other. “Thicc boys and explosions? Hal, you really know how to show a girl a good time.”

“Enjoy yourself,” Hal said with a shake of his head. “But make sure it gets done. I’ll not have us fighting on two fronts. We barely have enough to fight on one.”

A cold breeze ruffled Hal’s long hair and he took a moment to settle his thoughts. Noth gently tapped his shoulder. “Am I to have a great task?”

“I was hoping you would help me,” Hal admitted.

“I know nothing about building or planning,” Noth confessed. “My skills are… in other departments. But I will gladly learn, if you wish it.”

With a smile, Hal said, “We’ll learn together then. I’ll need somebody that can help me coordinate the building and resource management. If you find something you would rather do, by all means, see to it. I hardly want to hold you back, but in the meantime I could use the help.”

The erstwhile Reaper nodded her acceptance.

His koblin friends had been so solemn and uncharacteristically quiet that Hal nearly forgot they were there. Only when he turned to survey the immediate area did he remember. Each of them looked up at him expectantly.

“My dear koblins,” Hal said, unable to refrain from smiling. He dropped to one knee and put a hand on Vorax’s lid. “The task I have for you all is perhaps the most important.

“Take Vorax with you. Search for any creatures that may wish us harm within the valley. If you find any that you think might be friendly, let me know. Do not try to fight anything, only look. Understood?”

Each of the koblins gave him a goofy little salute, most of them hitting the padded leather mask so hard that their green ears flopped from the impact. “No use fighty-tool! Kobbies see-true enemies in long-stop! Will take many tock-ticks. Kobbies give this helpy-hand!”

Hal imparted his instructions separately to Vorax. “Keep them safe. And talk to any monsters to see if they would be willing to have a home with us. I want this place to be as much a safe haven for people as for monsterkind. So long as they are willing to live in harmony.”

Vorax imparted its own understanding, flashing images of Vorax and Hal as an example of companionship. Of family. Together the koblins and Vorax hurried off to the east.

Luda stood there, tilting her head as she watched them. Turning back to Hal she smiled. “I appreciate you sharing such a solemn occasion with me. Is there nothing I can do to help?”

“You said many among your disciples are accomplished crafters and gatherers, right?” Hal asked.

“Indeed,” Luda said, nodding along. “And you wish to employ them in the defense of their new home. I will see that they make it their sole concern.”

That left Hal alone with Noth, and the Manatree.

“I can feel it, you know,” she whispered so softly that if the wind hadn’t died down Hal would have missed it. “The Manaseed. I’m tethered to it, just as you are. It feels….”

As she struggled to put a word to her feelings, Hal said, “Peaceful.”

Noth looked at him, her expression softened. “Yes,” she said, turning back to look at the Manaseed. “Peaceful.”

71

Before Hal returned to the caravan and the whirlwind of activity he knew it would be, he took a moment to savor the peace. Beside Noth, Hal brought up the Guild menu and pulled up the perks available for the Settlement Archetype.

[Settlement Archetype]

Founding 0/1

The Founding perk grants a temporary buff known as “Founder’s Day,” which repeats once per year on the anniversary of this perk’s attainment. The initial “Founder’s Day” buff lasts for three days. Every year the settlement remains the “Founder’s Day” buff grows in strength.

Changes settlement type to outpost.

Unlocks Research Points.

Unlocks Manatree Control.

Unlocks Morale.

Grants Tier I Building Schematics.

Allows the formation of Gatherer & Crafter Bands.

As the only perk available at the moment, Hal placed the lone point he was saving into it and was immediately hit with a deluge of information.

Next to him, Noth looked over noticing his reaction. “I imagine what you’re seeing is a lot more than what I am.”

Hal nodded. “How much did you see?”

“That we can now form something called ‘Gatherer Bands’ and ‘Crafter Bands’, we’re upgraded from a caravan to an outpost, and we’ve got new building schematics. The dwarves will be happy about that last bit, I imagine.”

“I think we all will be,” Hal said with a grin. “Let’s head back, I’ll look over this stuff on the way.”

Area Effect: Founder’s Day

Founder’s Day

+25% Skill gain rate | +25% Experience points.

+25% Crafting Points | +25% Gathering Points.

+25% HP | +25% SP | +25% MP.

+25% HP Regeneration | +25% SP Regeneration | +25% MP Regeneration.

+100% Morale | -25% Elysian Point cost | +100% Settlement defense.

Duration: 3 days.

Settlement changed to Outpost.

Outpost

Without a Town Hall built, your fledgling town is little more than a group of people huddled around a fire. Putting down roots is an important first step to building a lasting settlement. But without permanent lodgings, comfortable amenities, safety, or stable supplies your settlement will not last long.

Settlement Consumption: +10% | Settlement Production: -10%.

Influence Area: -20% | Settlement Morale: -50%.

Research Points: -50%.

Research Points

The sole purpose of Research Points (RP) is to allow for the creation and discovery of new recipes. These recipes can include new Elysian Abilities, Building Schematics, Crafting Recipes, and many more.

Manatree Control

Having founded a settlement with a Manatree, you have gained access to not only the unique power of a Manatree’s Elysian Abilities but that of the settlement’s as well. By possessing both, you can bind the Manatree to the settlement, improving the lives of all citizens and granting them the boons of the Manatree as well.

Doing so should be done with the utmost of caution, however, as this action cannot be undone. If the settlement dies, so too will the Manatree and vice versa.

If performed, the benefits are many, such as the increased generation of Elysian Points (EP), increased Manatree Abilities, and increased Manatree Experience gain. The Manatree’s influence range will be expanded to include all of the settlement if it’s influence range is less, or beyond the settlement, if its influence is greater than the settlement’s.

Morale

People are the lifeblood of any settlement, and the general wellbeing of those people is paramount to their ability to work effectively. Stress them too much, and their work suffers.

Morale is affected by a variety of effects. From those you control, such as amenities, comfortable homes, the safety of the settlement, and a steady supply of food. To those you do not, like inclement weather, local flora and fauna, neighboring settlements, the appearance of dungeons, and roaming monsters.

Various activities, abilities, and buildings provide bonuses or maluses to Morale. Effectively managing your settlement’s Morale can make even the most skill-deficient citizens productive. While mismanaging Morale can cripple artisans at the pinnacle of their craft.

Tier I Building Schematics Unlocked.

Production Tier I

Defensive Tier I

Housing Tier I

Building Schematics

Every structure requires a set of schematics to be able to be built. Otherwise, an extensive amount of RP and time is required to research new types of buildings. Every settlement type brings with it a set of Building Schematics, minus the caravan type.

Building Schematics can be bought, sold, created, discovered, or researched. Every Building Schematic requires a set amount of resources to build and possesses an amount of Crafting Points (CP) required to complete it.

Building Schematics possess 3 major categories:

Materials

The amount of resources required to complete the construction or construction stage for multi-step buildings.

Parameters

Useful information about the building itself. Defensive structures have their HP, DEF, MDEF, and any other relevant status listed here. Housing would showcase Comfort, Luxury, and Morale bonuses.

Construction

Portrays information about the building’s construction cost, most notably: cost, difficulty, and worker limit. Cost is the amount of CP required to complete the building or the current construction stage for multi-step buildings. Difficulty is the amount of complexity in the building’s design. Higher levels of difficulty require its workers to possess higher Building Skill. Worker limit is the maximum amount of workers on a given project.

Gatherer & Crafter Bands

Up to 20 people can form a band. Bands are unique to Manatree settlements. They allow for a coordinated effort to craft, or gather. Every additional member over 5 contributes to a bonus to their respective discipline for the entire band. Mixing Professions and different Classes can create unique buffs for the entire band.

They were in sight of caravans as the pair wove around a tumble of tall pale stones. “There is a lot to do,” Hal said.

“We have a week to get some defenses in place,” Noth said, misunderstanding his intent as worry. “With the dwarves and everybody pitching in, we will stand against what is coming.” She placed a hand on his shoulder. It stopped him in his tracks and he turned away from the notifications to see Noth clearly. “This is our home now.”

Her words held such conviction that Hal couldn’t help but smile. “It is our home,” he agreed, as he laid his hand over Noth’s. He gave it a reassuring squeeze and they continued walking side-by-side toward the circled wagons. “And we’re going to make it into something great.”

“Then,” Noth began, tilting her head and regarding him curiously. “You are not worried about the pending attack on our home?”

“I am. It would be hard not to be. But I have faith in Durvin’s boys and in the rest of us. You are right, Noth. If everybody pitches in, we can do this. I need to look at what we’ll need to progress to the next settlement type, but I can guess well enough that we need at least a town hall.”

“Can we spare the work from the walls to do that?” Noth asked.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Hal shook his head. “Maybe. Maybe not. Now that we’re considered an outpost, our penalties aren’t quite as large. But they’re still there. We’ve got a combined twenty percent hit to how much we use.

“Presumably, that also includes the costs to construct buildings. If everything takes ten percent more materials - possibly including CP - and we can produce ten percent less of those materials, it might be worth it to divert some production to the town hall.”

As they came upon the caravan, they could see how busy the place was. Dwarves hopped around, organizing into groups. Some had woodcutter axes, others fashioned large wooden sleds tied to a simple harness to ferry the Guild Chests around.

But everybody was moving in one way or another. It was like somebody had poked a beehive.

“But you’re still unsure,” Noth said, reading Hal’s emotions right this time. “You don’t know if building a town hall will be enough. And the cost for failing to build proper defenses is high.”

Hal nodded, coming to a halt a dozen yards from the caravan. They were on a rising slope that afforded them a perfect view of the manic motion.

“The gap is small compared to most valleys, compared to most of the areas we found at the base of the mountain for that matter,” Hal said, crossing his arms as he looked over the roofs of the wagons far to the south. Toward the darkening gate-like entrance to their home.

“But it’s still over two hundred yards wide. Perhaps more. I won’t know until we get an accurate assessment of the area.” Hal watched as even then, a score of dwarves were marching to the south. “We have enough stone and wood to build some things, I’m sure. But we never expected to have to erect solid defenses so quickly.

“I would rather struggle and have sturdy stone walls than to have holes in our defense,” Hal said, mostly to himself he realized. That was the beauty of talking to Noth sometimes. He could work out his own inner turmoil, and she would listen. Often offering her own solid advice.

“Everything must be seen through the eyes of an immortal,” Noth said, her eyes were watching the caravan but her look was distant, distracted. “You build for the future. And there can be no future if your - our - settlement is wiped out. Strong defenses will buy us time to set other plans in motion.

“But it will depend largely on how expensive the town hall is. The Founder’s Day buff we have is quite significant. We might be able to use that to our advantage.”

Hal was already thinking along those lines. The morale detriment of being an outpost settlement was completely erased. Instead it became a 50% morale boost. While the settlement defense likely wouldn’t see any use, the lowered EP cost, bonuses to EXP, skill, crafting, and gathering would definitely see use.

Looking at his own MP, sitting at a beautiful 1,018 thanks to the 25% boost, Hal began to imagine all the things he could make with Bonecrafting. With his scarcely used trait, Improvised Crafting, he might even be able to aid in construction.

72

It was a testament to how busy the caravan was when Hal and Noth returned that nobody noticed them. Hal could feel his connection to Vorax somewhere off in the distance. There was a sense of curiosity and hope flowing through the mimic.

Hal didn’t truly expect to find many monsters in the valley. But he knew if he could find some and Vorax could make the proper introductions, they might avoid conflict later on.

While he was claiming the valley for his own people, it was not a small place. There was room to give what monsters - provided they were friendly, or at least amenable to peace - were already living in the valley their already claimed space.

“I’ve never seen so many people, so busy,” Noth said. When she caught Hal’s curious look she smirked and added, “Most of my experience with people is after the chaos has died down. Sometimes in the middle but rarely at the beginning. Do you feel it, Hal? The air is almost charged with hope and expectation.”

“They’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Hal answered, watching two dwarfs reach for the same hammer. They started to bicker and tug on each other’s beards. Noth gave a soft laugh to his side.

“We all have.” Hal shook his head and ventured into their wagon. “Weeks of hard travel crammed into tight - albeit fairly comfortable accommodations - while most people could never be sure this was going to happen.

“I mean, look at this place.” Once inside the wagon, Hal motioned to the stunning shadowed valley view afforded through the window. “I don’t think anybody could have guessed we’d find such a nice place.

“And even if they did,” he continued, reaching into a trunk. Hal grabbed a leatherbound notebook and a fountain pen. Noth helped him clear the table of still-warm teacups and half-eaten biscuits for his materials. “It’s one thing to see the reality of it, and quite another to hope for it.”

“Tea?” Noth asked, depositing the dishes in the sink.

Hal nodded, opening up the journal to a page half-filled with random bits of math. Despite his high Intelligence, he couldn’t hold a million things in his head at once. Nor could he do a dozen calculations - not if he wanted them to be accurate - like some sort of savant.

What Ashera had told him way back in the forest outside of Fallwreath seemed true. There was only so much raising his INT could do for him. His magic was undoubtedly powerful, far more than back then. But he was still Hal. Perhaps a little wiser, a bit faster with his thoughts.

The same man… but better. At least he hoped.

Before he dove into the Building Schematics he hadn’t explored yet, Hal took another peek at his Guild Status.

[Guild Statistics]

Production

Food: -33u

Settlement Type

Outpost

Consumption: +10%

Production: -10%

Influence Area: -20%

Settlement Morale: +50% (+100% from Founder’s Day)

Research Points: -50%

Stores

Food: 362u

Days Remaining: 10

Stone

Rough Stone: 45t

Stone Bricks: 11t

Dressed Stone: 12.2t

Crystal

Unrefined Crystal: 5.12t

Shardite: 1.01t

Empyreal Shardite: 0.35t

Wood

Raw: 20t

Lumber: 40t

Metal

Copper: 1.8t

Iron: 5.2t

Steel: 0.77t

Silver: 0.98t

Gold: 0.45t

[Guild Status]

Guild Name: Bravers

Emblem: N/A

Guildmaster: Hal Williams

Members: 87/140

Guild Level: 2

Experience: 3,475

To Next Level: 5,300

Perks: 0

Guild Points: 120/250

Generation: 20/day

Territory: 1 Mile (-20% from Outpost Type)

Alliance: N/A

Opposition: N/A

Guild Skills

Regeneration

All guild members within the guild’s territory (or their influence area) have their HP regeneration rates increased by 50%.

Guild Point Cost: 10

Duration: 24hrs

Effects:

+10% Reputation (Bonecraft Discovery)

Everything seemed in order until he got to the Guild Points. He paused, did a double-take, and turned to Noth just in time to be handed a cup of hot tea. “Thanks, have you taken a look at the Guild Points?”

“Yes, why?” she asked, pulling up a chair beside him. She cradled the mug in her delicate hands and rested her elbows on the table. “We have quite a few points, the bulk of which we gained from Leveling Up. The rest seemed to come from changing our settlement type but that’s just a guess.”

Hal shook his head. “I guess I was so sleep-deprived these last few days and so busy looking for a home that I didn’t pay that close attention.”

“Nobody faults you for missing a few points,” Noth said sympathetically. “We all know how busy you’ve been. How much work you have been putting into finding us a home. Not just a place to live, but to thrive. We are grateful, Hal.”

Noth opened her mouth to say something more just as Hal lifted his gaze from the dark steaming tea in his cup. Their eyes locked and whatever words Noth had died in her throat.

In the failing light of the evening, the rosy glow that spread across her cheeks made her look exactly as she was to Hal. An otherworldly beauty. He understood at that moment why so many ancient civilizations talked about death maidens. He understood the impossible beauty of the Valkyries of Norse legend.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away. It was just the two of them. Something of Hal’s thoughts must have shown on his unguarded face.

Noth froze like a deer in headlights. She set her teacup down so hard it looked like she nearly dropped it. Blushing furiously, though most of it was covered by the dimness of the wagon, Noth muttered something about checking on Rondo and bolted from the wagon.

Hal let out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding until that moment.

The world resumed around him, and he took the few minutes to relight the wagon’s interior lights.

Head still spinning, Hal tried to ground it in reality with the numbers he was presented with. The boost from Founder’s Day completely flipped the Morale, though he still wasn’t sure how to quantify Morale and the System was suspiciously vague on its impact.

They were fairly close to another Guild Level, less than 2,000 EXP and they would make it. With all the building going on, he expected that they would be Guild Level 3 by the end of the week.

Hopefully that would give them more abilities to work with. While the Regeneration ability was nice, and would undoubtedly be useful in the coming battle. It did little good at the moment. As did the glut of Guild Points with nothing to spend it on yet.

As soon as Hal opened the Settlement Menu, a notification reminded him that he still had yet to make a choice about the Manatree.

[Settlement Status]

Settlement Type: Outpost

Settlement Level: 1

Consumption: +10%

Production: -10%

Influence Area: 1 Mile (-20%)

Settlement Morale: +50% (+100% from Founder’s Day)

Research Points: -50%

Citizens: 103

Settlement Mana: 10

Settlement Mana Generation: 15/day (+50% Morale)

Settlement Abilities

Summon Guardian

Summon a magical construct to defend or assist your settlement in any way you see fit. The Level of the guardian is dependent upon the Level of the settlement and any relevant buildings, research, or improvements to arcana and golem making.

Mana Cost: 100.

Duration: 24hrs.

Mana Repair

Utilizing your settlement’s wellspring of mana to undo the ravages of time and damage to structures within the settlement’s influence range, restoring Building HP (bHP) and automatically putting out any fires.

Mana Cost: 1 per 100 bHP repaired.

Revitalization

Rejuvenate the land and natural resources in a 100ft radius. Quickly regrows Tier I natural resources (wood, stone, food). Reduced effectiveness for living resources during the winter.

Mana Cost: 10 per 5% resource regrowth.

Would you like to bind the Manaseed to the Settlement?

With a subvocalized ‘Yes’, Hal confirmed the process. It would, he knew, bind him as well to the settlement. It was a lot more than just combining two systems for easier management. His soul, for better or worse, would be tethered to the settlement.

A rush of silver light flooded all around the wagon and into Hal. As the Manaseed’s Guardian he was explicitly linked to the Manaseed. Ribbons of argent energy filtered through the wagon and into Hal.

Distantly, he was aware of the surprise and similar elation that Noth felt through her connection to him. He found himself trying to imagine her expression at that moment. Wondering what had prompted her to leave so quickly.

He let go of the disappointment as the silver light faded and the process completed. A new notification greeted him.

Settlement Update

You have successfully bound your Manaseed with the Settlement. Settlement Mana is now converted into Elysian Points. Your Manatree Menu has now been merged with the Settlement Menu.

Though your Settlement Mana and Elysian Points are now combined, certain abilities are still only available to each category denoted by a prefix of “Settlement” or “Manatree.”

You have gained 1 new Settlement Ability and 1 new Manatree Ability.

[Manaseed: Unnamed] gains 500 Experience Points.

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 9.

+3% Manatree spell potency (+27%).

Settlement: Rallied Defense

Call your citizens to arms, increasing their fighting capabilities. If not used during a time of war or siege, Morale will drop dramatically.

+20% Damage of Citizens within influence range.

-20% Damage taken by Citizens within influence range.

EP Cost: 50.

Manatree: Deep Roots

Using the magic of the Manatree, infuse a structure with the Elysian energy that flows within the Manatree. Doing so permanently increases the bHP of the building.

EP Cost: 1 per 1 bHP.

Settlement status has changed.

[Settlement Status]

Settlement Type: Outpost

Settlement Level: 1

Consumption: +10%

Production: -10%

Influence Area: 1 Mile (-20%)

Settlement Morale: +50% (+100% from Founder’s Day)

Research Points: -50%

Manatree Type: Manaseed

Guardian: Hal Williams

Level: 2

Experience Points: 1,250/2,650

HP: 700/700

Citizens: 103

Elysian Points: 12

Elysian Generation: 18/day (+50% Morale)

73

The combination of EP from the Manaseed and the Settlement mana is nice. Hal leaned back in his chair and sipped his tea as a chill wind whistled through the wagon. He was glad for the temporary insulation that drinking anything hot gave but he would need to find a more permanent solution.

Just like Komachi was too cold to be comfortable, so was everybody else. It wouldn’t be long until the novelty of having a non-moving home wore off and the oppressive cold settled in.

Turning his attention back to the settlement, he perused the abilities again. In total, he had 6 settlement-oriented abilities. Technically, Manatree: Soul Tether was more reactionary than an actual ability he could trigger to get a direct benefit.

With their current point accrument, by the time the Founder’s Day buff wore off they should be sitting at 48 EP. Then, assuming nothing happened to change their Morale, they would generate 6 EP a day for the four remaining days until the attack.

That gave him a total of 72 EP by the 7th day. Depending on when the System decided the next day had come, he might have an additional 6 EP come in during the assault.

Whether he had 72 or 78 EP didn’t really matter though.

They still couldn’t afford the 100 EP cost of Settlement: Summon Guardian.

Hal took a moment to make a short list of all the valuable abilities. What he was left with was, Settlement: Mana Repair, Settlement: Rallied Defense, Manatree: Impenetrable Defense.

Anything else was either out of his price range or not useful as was the case with Manatree: Deep Roots, and Settlement: Revitalization. Both useful in their own rights, he didn’t doubt, but not in a battle.

And he doubted that throwing out all their EP to make the Manaseed invulnerable was a good idea. Considering that it was now tied to the survival of the town.

More than anything, he suspected it was going to be Settlement: Mana Repair that would become the MVP of the coming battle. With 72 EP to spend, that translated to 7,200 building HP it could heal.

It might be the only thing keeping the walls up when the horde came calling in a little under a week.

And that was if Hal’s grasp on how Morale affected EP generation was right. Normally, they had a 50% penalty. He only hoped it didn’t get worse from all the long days of working and the cold.

It might be a wise decision to set up some better shelter to keep everybody warm.

On that note, Hal opened up his Building Schematics menu. Unlocking the Settlement Archetype had unlocked three low-tier buildings. He doubted any of them were going to be that great.

[Building Schematics]

Production Tier I

Lumberjack’s Hut

Provides basic shelter for workers and produces wood. Affords protection against the elements while gathering. Morale malus is only applied if the workers use this building as their lodgings.

Materials

Wood: 4t

Parameters

HP: 200

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

Occupancy: 7

Gathering Rate: 1.5t per worker

Morale: -5%

Construction

Cost: 150

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 4

Quarry

Produces stone from nearby nodes and stony outcrops. Affords protection against the elements while gathering. Morale malus is only applied if the workers use this building as their lodgings.

Materials

Wood: 4t

Parameters

HP: 200

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

Occupancy: 5

Gathering Rate: 1t per worker

Morale: -5%

Construction

Cost: 150

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 4

Hunting Lodge

Produces food in the form of meat and foraged goods as well as shelter from the elements and lodgings for those working. There is no Morale loss for living and working in a Hunting Lodge as hunters are expected to have long forays into the wilds to hunt game.

Materials

Wood: 6t

Parameters

HP: 300

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

Occupancy: 5

Gathering Rate: 7u per worker

Construction

Cost: 200

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 4

Defensive Tier I

Flimsy Wall

A simple wall of stone and wood. By using the two materials together the wall can be made faster and cheaper. However, it is not very strong and will easily fail if assaulted. Best used to keep animals out.

Materials

Wood: 1t

Stone: 0.5t

Parameters

HP: 100

DEF: 30

MDEF: 30

Construction

Cost: 50

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 5

Earthen Bulwark

A sturdier construction consisting primarily of packed dirt and rubble. While its material costs are light, it makes up for its resource reduction with the extra labor required to shape and move so much earth.

Materials

Wood: 2t

Stone: 1t

Parameters

HP: 500

DEF: 100

MDEF: 100

Construction

Cost: 300

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 10

Palisade

A traditional defensive structure combining the strengths of both a thick wooden wall and an Earthen Bulwark. By vertically stacking logs of wood on the exterior and packing it with dirt behind, a stouter defense can be made.

Materials

Wood: 10t

Stone: 3t

Parameters

HP: 1,000

DEF: 135

MDEF: 135

Construction

Cost: 450

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 10

Housing Tier I

Town Hall

Provides basic storage, improves EP generation, and provides amenities to the settlement. Required to upgrade to Settlement Level 2 and beyond.

Materials

Wood: 10t

Stone: 7t

Parameters

HP: 600

DEF: 50

MDEF: 50

Storage: 500t of each material.

Morale: +5%.

EP Generation: +10%.

Construction

Cost: 350

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 8

Bunkhouse

A large structure that allows many people to sleep, sheltered from the elements. The cramped design provides a high occupancy but leaves much comfort to be desired. It is serviceable and better than sleeping on the cold hard ground. Cold Insulation raises with each occupant.

Materials

Wood: 8t

Parameters

HP: 300

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

Occupancy: 25

Morale: -20%

Construction

Cost: 200

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 6

Shack

A smaller occupancy home that allows up to four people to share the same roof. Like the Bunkhouse, it is far from comfortable and is completely unfurnished. Unlike the Bunkhouse, it lacks the Insulation bonus. However, its Morale degradation is less as people have a semblance of privacy.

Materials

Wood: 2t

Parameters

HP: 100

DEF: 10

MDEF: 10

Occupancy: 4

Morale: -10%

Construction

Cost: 70

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 4

Examining the defenses further, he was able to find that each of the walls was constructed in 30-foot-long sections, though they ranged in height and thickness. He could link them together into a seamless piece, or create gates and openings as he wanted.

All he had to do was find out how wide the gap to the settlement was, then determine how much CP everybody had. Considering the System called it Crafting Points, he was willing to guess that Construction - or Building - was a crafting skill. Whichever it was called.

And that meant that most people who weren’t already skilled were likely going to have 1 or less CP an hour.

Even if several of the dwarves were relatively skilled, with CP costs in the hundreds for each section of the wall, it was going to take a long time.

No use in getting ahead of myself. I don’t even know how many people are going to be able to build. We still need food, shelter, and materials.

They had just enough food to last ten days if and only if the Rangers continued to forage and hunt at their current rate. And while they were certainly skilled at their task, might they be faster with a dedicated building?

Hal had no idea how many of the roughly dozen Rangers were dedicated to the task. If they all hunted, then a single Hunting Lodge filled with 5 workers could output the same as the entire group.

And that meant more people building the wall.

But what Hal needed most, was more information. He needed to find out just how many Rangers hunted or gathered food and how much they brought back.

He needed to speak to Durvin and find out how large the gap to the settlement was. How many of his dwarves had building skill and what their current CP rate was, and how many were willing to dedicate to building the wall.

If that wasn’t enough, he needed to find out why the housing situation was so pathetic. Everything he could build had a negative Morale attached and he wondered just how comparable it was if they kept everybody in their wagons.

They had gone the entire trip in the small - but surprisingly comfortable - wooden boxes-on-wheels. Could a few more days really hurt?

By keeping his people in the wagons a little longer, they could dedicate almost all of their resources toward building the wall and gathering the necessary resources.

They had 45 tons of rough stone, 20 tons of raw wood, and 40 tons of lumber. Though, as Hal noticed, none of the buildings required lumber. He wondered if using the refined planks would lead to an improvement in the building itself.

Simply put, there was so much to do and little enough time for it.

Without knowing everybody’s CP rate for building things, he couldn’t direct his forces where they needed to go. And that didn’t touch on things like how to upgrade the Settlement to Level 2. Or if he should scout the surrounding area and lay traps along possible routes to his settlement.

Up on his feet again, Hal drained the last of his tea and headed out. He needed answers - a lot of them - and he wasn’t about to find them sitting alone in a wagon.

He was going to see Durvin, but then he spotted a banner of raven black hair. Whether it was his heart or his head, Hal adjusted his course and followed after Noth.

74

Halfway there, Noth spotted Hal. It would be hard not to. Half a dozen people called his name and started to approach him. As the Guildleader he was ultimately the one that would need to make the decision on a hundred different tasks.

There was a moment of panic in Noth’s golden eyes when she saw him. She steeled herself and turned, waiting for him. But, Hal noticed, not moving any closer.

With promises of getting to their questions later, Hal managed to stave off the rush of his guildmates and reach Noth.

“Did you find Rondo?” he asked.

Noth’s brow furrowed in confusion. “No, why- Oh. No, he was busy working on some preliminary plans for the settlement. I figured it would be best to leave him be.”

Letting the obvious lie slide, Hal nodded. “Since you’re no longer pressed for another task, I’m about to go visit Durvin at the site of the wall. Want to join me?”

“Of course,” she said, trying to force a smile.

They turned around and headed out of the ring of wagons and proceeded south toward the gap. Already a sizeable force of sturdy dwarven silhouettes could be seen in the shadow of the sheer cliffs that bordered the settlement and formed its narrow entryway.

“You know, Noth, if I make you uncomfortable or something… you can just say you’d rather be somewhere else.” Hal said. Gotta rip it off quick, just like a band-aid. He reminded himself. “I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us.”

The cold began to bite at them as the sun slowly sank in the west. A frigid wind whipped through the valley, making them shiver. Noth gave him a sidelong glance. “I… you don’t make me uncomfortable, Hal. At least, not in the way you’re probably thinking. You did nothing wrong, okay? Let’s just drop it for now.”

As much as he wanted to know what the problem was, Hal decided she was right. There were too many issues to deal with at the moment. “It’s paused,” Hal explained. “Until the Settlement is on more stable footing. But we will talk about it.”

Noth swallowed hard and nodded.

While they walked, Hal told her about the buildings they had access to and his theories about there being either a Building or Construction crafting skill.

They had nearly made the mile-long hike when Noth said, “It sounds like the Town Hall isn’t going to provide that much of a reprieve from the Morale issue.” She tapped a finger to the hollow of her cheek in thought. “But at the same time, it’s necessary for advancement. And it might be the only thing standing in our way from Settlement Level two.”

“Right, but it is expensive and takes a fair amount of resources to build,” Hal added. “Not that I’m disagreeing to its importance but it’s one of the reasons I went out in search of Durvin. I need more information about how large the entry into the Settlement is and if he had any knowledge of the skill that’s used.”

Tilting her head, Noth looked at Hal curiously. “I was nowhere near Durvin.”

“I know.”

“Yet you came to me.”

“I did.”

Narrowing her eyes to dangerous golden slits, she let out a snort of annoyance and turned her attention to the sound of dwarven voices bickering. They were nearly at the gap.

“Everything depends on how this all works and the System wasn’t kind enough to provide that level of detailed information,” Hal went on. “If I have the manpower to spare, I’ll make a Town Hall. I’m not sure why we’d need the storage though. We have a Guild Bank and the Guild Chests for that.”

“Oh, that’d be because the Guild Bank takes time to retrieve and store probably.” Noth shrugged. “Imagine trying to remove five tons of stone from a small box. It’s not very easy. For that alone, the Town Hall might make it faster for us to build, if only because we can access our materials a bit quicker.”

He didn’t even think of that. “Not to mention multiple people trying to take various items out. Even with access to all three we would quickly have a bottleneck,” Hal reasoned. “Just another reason to build the Town Hall.”

“Oi! Boy!” Durvin bellowed. He strode across the rough ground at a pace that a dwarf simply should not be able to. His short, strong legs pumping, Durvin met them just outside of the ring of hammers and steel. “I got meself a whole mess o’ questions fer ye.”

Hal motioned for him to go on, and the dwarf took out a many-folded piece of parchment. “Yer gap? It’s small fer a dragon’s arse but wide enough to be lettin’ our enemies in like a black flood.”

“How wide?” Hal asked.

“Me Engineers put it at about two-hundred an’ fifty yards,” Durvin said somberly.

Crossing his arms, Hal went over the mental math. If each section of the wall would be built in 30-foot segments - or 10 yards in this case - then that meant they would need a minimum of 25 wall sections built. But there was something else that drew Hal’s attention as he parsed Durvin’s words.

“Why’d you say Engineer like that? Is that a Class?” Over time, Hal had picked up that people slightly stressed more important words. Whether it was the System alerting him to it, or his own understanding growing, he didn’t know.

“Ye bet yer keister it is!” Durvin said, one fist on his left hip as he flapped about with the parchment in his other hand. “They’re the ones gonna be designing the improvements for the dang-blasted thing.”

“So they generate Research Points?” Noth asked, her interest clearly piqued.

Despite everything that the System had shown Hal, all of which he shared with Noth, nothing mentioned how to actually gain Research Points. The only thing Hal knew was that if they were to gain any, it would be at a severely reduced rate.

“Don’t ye doubt,” Durvin said as a way of acknowledgment. “They ain’t got much to do now, granted. So I’ll put ‘em to work buildin’ unless ye got yer leader hat on so tight it’s cuttin’ off blood flow to yer noggin’ and yer wanting to give the honor yer dang self.”

With a chuckle, Hal said, “No, no. That’s quite all right, Durvin. You seem to have everything well in hand here, so let me ask you a question. Building takes a specific crafting skill, right?”

“Aye, that it do.”

“Could you share with me some of the details of that and the skills of your dwarves?”

Durvin turned his bronze gaze onto Noth. He hiked a callused thumb Hal’s way. “The boy’s becomin’ more o’ a leader every durned day.”

Apparently, the System agreed.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 26(31).

+1% Party damage (+31%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+62%).

Over the next hour, as the temperature dropped and the sun fled behind the sheltering mountain range to the west, Durvin went over every detail with Hal.

As it turned out, the name of the skill was Construction. And, as Hal guessed, it was a crafting skill. Most of Durvin’s folk had a few Levels in the skill, which made them quite a bit more useful than he thought since having even a single Level allowed them to supervise those without any Levels in the skill.

As a result, the dwarves could oversee any fledgling builders - with more than a few among their surly ranks, Durvin admitted - to get them on their way to their first Level.

Prior to that first Level being gained, each person’s CP rate was reliant upon their supervisor. Supervisors with higher skill, and most notably a higher skill in Instructor, could improve the process.

Durvin was a bit fuzzy with the details, interjecting a lot of “durned stoneheads” and “dagdamora!” into the mix.

“Turns out,” Durvin said, as he walked them over the ground the dwarves were readying for the construction effort. “Ye need a Settlement to have any real chance o’ Levelin’ yer Construction. Me highest.” Durvin pointed at a blonde-bearded dwarf with his beard tucked into his wide leather girdle bellowing at a couple of other dwarves. “Only has four Levels in Construction. He’s been doin’ this a long time, boy. Got a few gray whiskers in that long beard o’ his, don’t ye doubt!”

Hal was about to ask how much CP the man had but thought better of it and said, “What’s his name?”

“Donks Hammertoes,” Durvin said, watching Hal curiously.

As they passed by the dwarf, Hal cupped his cold hands around his mouth and did his best to match Donks’ bellowing. “Donks! How much CP you got?”

The dwarf started, as did the two others nearby. As one they turned to Hal. Without missing a beat, Donks replied, “I got about four-and-a-half!” He immediately went back to berating his fellow dwarves.

Durvin eyed Hal with a look of respect.

Clan Bouldergut Reputation: +500.

“And that’s the best we have, right?” Hal said, looking to Durvin. Both Noth and the dwarf glanced at each other then back at Hal.

“Aye. Most only have a point or so, not much we can do about it ‘cept send ‘em to work.”

“We could build the Town Hall,” Noth suggested. “It would take about half of our raw wood but we have the materials. If Donks was on the team and every other builder was at least a single point of CP that’d give us roughly eleven. Even at ten points, it would take just over a day and a half to build.”

Hal was smiling and nodding along, thinking along the same lines.

75

[Construction Progress]

Town Hall

Lumber Delivered: 8/12t

Dressed Stone Delivered: 3/8.4t

Worker Limit: 8/8

CP Cost: 350 (+25% From advanced materials).

CP Generation: 23.27 (+75% Morale & Founder’s Day).

Completion Time: 2.45/15.04 hours.

Hal winced at the nearby sound of stone being chiseled. He knew he should have gone to bed shortly after talking to Durvin, but he couldn’t. There was so much to do.

Thanks to his Improvised Crafting trait, he could swap one material for the other. Normally, as Donks explained it, such a thing required a high Construction skill.

As it was, the Town Hall would receive further bonuses for using [Lumber] and [Dressed Stone] instead of raw wood logs and rough stone.

It would also look a lot better, and that would provide a larger Morale improvement. Something the Settlement would sorely need.

The added time would actually take them just over a day to complete. The dwarves could only work 12 hours at a time, and only then because Hal had such a high reputation with the Bouldergut clan.

His original idea of having multiple crews working on the Town Hall was impossible. At least at their current Settlement Level and the dwarves’ Construction skill.

Even if he didn’t need every able-bodied person working on something, himself included, it was not possible to assign different groups of people to the same construction project.

His best guess was that it would require a level of coordination beyond their capabilities at the moment. Something he understood, even if he didn’t like it.

While it would have been nice - and likely a good Morale boost as well - to dedicate to a few buildings at a time, getting them built in record time, it would make things too easy.

And since when did Aldim ever make anything easy?

He was lucky enough that the dwarves could work 50% longer than the others.

Normally, it was a typical 8-hour workday. If he forced people to work longer, they would gain a Debuff that led to an even sharper Morale penalty after 3 days. But with the dwarves, he had a full week before their Morale would drop.

While he was more than happy about the Morale boost, it was a temporary thing. And one that Hal knew was going to have a massive crash in under three days.

A large part of that, he learned, was due to the wagons. While they had been part of a caravan before, they never had to worry about Morale until arriving at the Settlement.

Placing the Manaseed and changing the Settlement to an outpost changed everything. Hal couldn’t keep everybody sleeping in the wagons forever, something he knew without needing a notification to tell him that most people were growing sick of.

He didn’t blame them. After weeks of hard travel, the wagons - despite their comforts - were stifling and lacked any semblance of privacy. Now that everybody was expected to work and contribute to the Settlement, sleeping in wagons packed like sardines wouldn’t do.

Luckily, the Morale penalty wouldn’t hit until they slept four days in the wagons. That gave him enough time to come up with an alternative strategy. One he would need to come up with quickly. The massive 50% Morale penalty was not entirely from being an outpost style Settlement.

That contributed, but the main reason was they lacked any sort of home. Nobody wanted to sleep in a box that swayed with the gentlest of breezes. And the Shiverglades were fairly windy by Hal’s reckoning.

Worse, the cold was a growing issue.

From the way the skies had been blanketed all day and the lack of starlight at night, Hal guessed it was only going to get worse. The dwarves worked by torchlight and with large iron braziers but it wasn’t a proper solution.

They could scarcely go through so much wood and fuel to keep the fires lit for the entire Settlement.

Building with proper materials of [Stone Bricks] and [Lumber] added Insulation and improved a building while adding to its CP cost. It made a large difference with the Town Hall, and its Morale boost would be sorely needed.

A Bunkhouse would be easier to put up and take fewer materials overall but it had a fairly massive Morale penalty for anybody who slept inside.

“It’s a lucky thing that the Morale isn’t cumulative for the whole Settlement,” Noth said at Hal’s side.

They stood beside a brazier going over Durvin’s plans by the firelight and overseeing the construction on the Town Hall. The dwarves had wanted to start right away and wouldn’t hear of sleeping until they had put in their work.

Hal groaned at that thought. “I’m thankful that Donks pointed that out. I might have gone a little insane trying to figure out how we could fit nearly a hundred people into a single Bunkhouse.”

Noth’s tinkling laughter grabbed Hal’s attention and wrenched his eyes to her. She cleared her throat self-consciously once she noticed and said, “Imagining everybody packed in one building....” She shook her head. “Dwarves, karaks, our Barbarian friend, all under one roof?”

An answering chuckle bubbled out of Hal at the strange imagery. He could just see it now, everybody kicking and biting to get an inch more legroom.

“If I had taken the time to think about it,” Hal said. “I don’t think I would have been worried for long. It would make absolutely zero sense if every Bunkhouse that was made dropped the Morale another twenty percent.”

Noth motioned to the parchment that showed several diagrams. One was of a few Bunkhouses set up on the higher section to the north. A temporary sort of work camp that, for one reason or another, just didn’t sit well with Hal.

On another section of the parchment was a set of Shacks arranged in something closer to a neighborhood. It was hard to deny that they looked better than the Bunkhouses.

Over time, that was the way Hal wanted to go. But a Bunkhouse took fewer materials and less time to construct.

“What we really need is more time,” Hal muttered to himself.

“We could send some Rangers out to scout-”

Hal was shaking his head. “I already thought of that. For now, we need everybody who can lift a plank, cut a tree, or mine stone to do that. We simply lack the time and the manpower to do much more. The amount of CP we make now is much higher but in a few days it’s going to tank.”

“And you have the unenviable position of choosing to reduce the effect of Morale, or to use our rare boost to go all-in on the walls,” Noth reasoned. “You do have a council of friends who might be willing to help you decide.”

“I do,” Hal agreed. “But in the end, it still falls to me to make the choice. I’ve heard all the arguments for and against already. Each wall section that gets constructed is thirty feet long, and the gap that needs to be filled is seven hundred and fifty feet wide.

“That’s twenty-five wall sections that need to be built in seven days. Even if we opt for the Earthen Bulwark instead of the Palisade, that’s three hundred CP per construction.”

Noth nodded along, following his logic. “And with each construction able to use ten dwarves at once, we would need many times their number to construct it all in tandem. There is a fifty percent bonus to CP generation due to Morale, yes?”

Looking up from the parchment, Hal nodded. “That’s right.”

“And if Donks Hammertoes is an outlier instead of the norm, the average dwarf is likely to have around one-and-a-quarter to one-and-a-half CP generation. So ten would have roughly twelve. Add in the Morale bonus at the moment and that becomes eighteen.”

“Right,” Hal said, turning his attention back to the working dwarves. One of them banged his thumb with a hammer and was cursing up a storm of typical dwarven insults that were just innocuous enough to apparently slip past Aldim’s language motherflorking filter. “If that was the norm then each Earthen Bulwark would take about seventeen hours to complete. Since we can’t have more than one team working on the same thing - or anything else in their downtime - that’s one day and a third of work for one Earthen Bulwark.”

“Do we have the materials for it?” Noth asked, tapping her cheek once again with a finger as she mulled over the problem.

“The bulwark only takes a ton of stone and two of wood. Then again, with our Settlement type that’s a little more. Since I used Lumber here, we still have twenty tons of Raw Wood to use. And even then that’s not enough. Not for twenty-five sections. But we have the stone.”

Noth looked over at him. “And can you not, with your Improvised Crafting trait, swap out the wood for the stone? If we do not need to build Lumberjack Huts, then we save on manpower and resources.”

Hal shook his head. “If we were able to swap out the two tons of wood for stone, then we’d need three tons of stone. We only have forty-five tons of Rough Stone. Even if it didn’t cost more, we’d be shy thirty tons.”

When Hal looked back at Noth, the woman was smiling with a glint in her eye that had nothing to do with the dancing fire beside them. “Have you ever tried using your Bonecrafting to make a block of bone?”

76

“Psshkoh, His Most Esteemed Boxiness would never false-lead kobbies!” Lurklox protested.

Vorax watched impassively, as the koblins once more argued about their direction. At the mimic’s insistence, they journeyed northward toward the base of the mountain. There was something inside. Vorax could feel it.

Whether due to his close relationship to Hal, that most curious of quasi-monsters, or because the koblins recognized a superior monster when they saw one, Vorax didn’t know. But they treated him with an incredibly high degree of respect befitting his station.

“You having brain-fruit for His Magnificent Squariness?” Buffrix asked Lurklox, mittens on his tiny hips. “Havior - Kobbieglory to Hal -” he paused, giving the other koblins time to repeat the refrain in unison.

Half a dozen “Kobbieglory to Hal,” echoed in the clearing. Vorax almost chose to form a pair of eyes, just to roll them.

If Hal thought that the koblin’s worship of him was bad when he was around, it was many orders of magnitude worse when they didn’t think he could overhear.

They knew he didn’t like it, and so they saved it for when he wasn’t around.

Vorax tuned them out and began to bounce and hop away from the koblins, heading up the rocky sloping terrain that led out of the forest. Surprisingly, there had been few monsters in the forests.

And the kinds that were there, were not the sort Hal would want to socialize with. Wipperghasts, Slingbats, Oozenozs, they were all beneath him. Little more than common riffraff.

Even Quibbles, his pet slime, had more class than those ruffians. Feeling its master turn his thoughts toward it, Quibbles let out a happy little squeak and squeezed through the keyhole on Vorax’s front.

Still squeaking like a chew toy, Vorax’s pet congealed atop his head like a little pink crown of gelatinous goo.

He was so adorable. How Vorax cherished the little one.

The koblins eventually stopped bickering and noticed Vorax was leading them away. One of them cried out, “Stopping silly-babble, His Many Right-Angledness is swift-fleeing, kobbie-guard assemble!”

Vorax could have groaned.

The things I do for love.

Together, the group left the protective boughs of the forest behind and ventured out into the cold night air.

Koblins, by their very nature as beastmen, were not full monsters. Contrary to what non-monsters might think. Of course, non-monsters have ever made enemies out of those they didn’t quite understand.

And considering the vast mental inadequacies of non-monsters was as vast as the manasea, they made enemies out of everything.

Seeing how readily the koblins followed Hal was a perfect example of the sort of cooperation that the non-monsters could have if they only looked past their differences.

Then again, asking the monstrously-impaired to do that was like asking a proper monster to go out and construct a home instead of finding a suitable cave or niche. It went against their very nature.

He could hold it against them - and he would, but that was beside the point - and gripe about it all day as some monsters did, or Vorax could continue to look forward to the day when the world held a little more tolerance.

If Hal had his way, this new home of theirs - settled in a perfectly dangerous corner of the world - would be the first settlement that welcomed monsters and non-monsters alike.

That was if Vorax could find any.

Grumbling and gnashing his lid, the mimic bounced and hopped along the rocky trail that led to the mountain’s entrance. The koblins were quick behind, taking vantage points and searching for any threats.

Threats, Vorax would have sensed long before the koblins did. But he let them have their fun.

Vorax chastised himself for the thought as soon as it flitted through his mind. The koblins were respectable monsters, one and all. They were also more than capable in battle.

It was Hal’s connection to the mimic that soured his mood. Something happened that put the man out of sorts. The mimic, ever perceptive to the emanations of his closest kin, hadn’t realized just how close they became.

That, and the long trip in a swaying wagon tucked away from anything interesting had eventually grated on Vorax’s lid.

While it was true mimics could stay comfortably still for long periods of time, that wasn’t the sort of life Vorax could tolerate for long. He tried to be accommodating. In truth, he wanted nothing more than to make Hal proud of him.

In turn, he wanted to be proud of Hal. A feat the man already accomplished with his fledgling settlement. Planting a Manaseed was no small thing. Even the young mimic knew that. And he knew, as well, that Hal had previously imparted a request to the Manaseed using his… strange connection to the thing.

By doing so, he made it so any monsters of friendly disposition would be allowed within the barrier. A barrier that, if Hal had been thoughtless like any other monstrously-challenged human, might have killed not only Vorax but the koblins and even dear Quibbles.

Thankfully, that did not come to pass. And it only improved Vorax’s opinion of the man. After reuniting with his pet slime he thought lost, he would accept no hurt to come to his little friend.

Now that they had a safe home, he might even help Quibbles to bud, so the little thing can grow its own family. Given the circumstances, and all that was on Hal’s mind lately, the man may have forgotten about the vast utility of monsters.

Vorax would do his duty and remind him - subtly at first - about how useful certain monsters could be if properly motivated.

An army of slimes, while not the most imposing or ferocious of monsters, was practically indestructible. They could bud from a single chunk of gelatinous flesh and didn’t know pain.

In fact, the only things slimes could feel was hunger and varying degrees of pressure that ranged from petting to tickling. They were sentient, not sapient. A slime had feelings and emotions, but little in the way of complex thought or self-awareness.

They also ate just about anything that they could fit into their bodies making them handy for… disposal purposes. As the large rent in the mountain before them welcomed them into the mountain, Vorax made a mental note to mention that to Hal.

Slimes would make short work of a heap of trash, producing tasty crystallized items in their wake. Unless they were instructed otherwise. Instead of producing the nourishing, mana-rich crystals, they could instead increase their size and then bud into two slimes.

Naturally, there was a maximum limit to the number of slimes in a given area. Even Vorax didn’t fully understand the mechanisms behind it but it had something to do with the local population of other slimes.

In short, depending on the size of the area and the density of the population of slimes already there, new slimes may not be able to be budded.

Vorax always dreamed of settling down and owning a slime farm… a slime ranch perhaps? With a hop that might be construed as a shrug, they entered into the mountain.

A mimic could dream.

As soon as they entered into the cave the temperature dropped several degrees. It hardly bothered the sturdy chest, and the koblins were dressed up in pliable leather suits. Only their ears were exposed and those were covered in soft, downy green fur.

At first glance, an unintelligent non-monster might be forgiven for making the mistake that a goblin and a koblin were alike. Not so, Vorax knew.

Koblins were covered in a thin layer of soft green fur. Goblins, on the other hand, had leathery skin not unlike a human’s.

“Psshkoh, go eye-peek,” Buffrix, the de-facto koblin leader ordered.

Lurklox slipped off into the shadows and would have been utterly impossible to detect if she wasn’t singing that inane song beneath her breath. “Go-go kobbie-rangers! Fighty, snorphin’ kobbie-rangers!”

Quibbles wobbled on Vorax’s head, telling the mimic that there was some serious magic in the air. The fact that Vorax couldn’t taste it told him a lot.

Slimes, notoriously dim-witted but lovable things, were much more in tune to the world around them. Even heavily warded, mana still seeped out. While a rational creature such as Vorax could not detect the magic, a slime could.

And Quibbles was vibrating at approximately 3.2 deciquibbles. That could only mean powerful shielding magic was employed here.

One of Vorax’s many hearts - he was up to 12 now - stuttered at the spike of worry and fear that stabbed his mind. What if there was some ancient beast here? What if, the reason Hal was able to find such a secluded place was because it was filled with a monster more monstrous than most?

Vorax would turn to kindling before he let anything harm Hal or his noble dream, but at the thought of another Shoggoth or worse, a Voideater, he nearly turned around.

It was Lurklox’s voice that brought him back from his fear and reminded him of his duty. Non-monsters might have been tasked with securing the mountain, but none could delve its depths and understand the dangers within like another monster.

Hal should have known better. The mimic chalked it up to the man’s increasing burdens weighing heavily on his mind.

“Lurklox see-true, no sneak-harms but being strengthful hold-fasts this way. Come, come.”

The koblin ventured forth, and Vorax hopped along deeper into the cavern. Now all together, the koblins began whispering their song over again. “Go-go kobbie-rangers, fighty snorphin’ kobbie-rangers….”

Vorax hoped they would find a dragon or something and quick. If only to quiet the koblins and remind them of their mission.

77

Lurklox had spoken true enough. They came to a hold-fast, the koblin’s word for a door.

In this case, it was a gate made out of metal bars. Vorax hopped up to it and licked the metal. His purple tongue came away with the telltale tingling flavor of mythril.

That didn’t bode well. Mythril was notoriously hard to work with and rare besides. This was no average door and it would be several more Levels until Vorax might have the strength to eat away at the sturdy metal.

The koblins were fussing with the gate. Lurklox, as the resident Thief was trying to “lock-trick” the gate open. After all, it did have a massive keyhole.

“What did grape tongue-flap when getting crushed?” Lurlox asked the lock. “Nothing! It just leak-let out little wine.”

To make it worse, the Thief did a little toe-tapping dance and spread her arms wide as if waiting for applause for the horrendous joke.

Vorax was hardly surprised when the gate groaned and an internal mechanism inside clicked. The metal gate swung open and admitted them.

For the uninitiated, koblins - and by extension, their goblin cousins - are ridiculous creatures. That wasn’t a complaint or dig on them. They were ridiculous by way of their very being.

Their magic, kobbie-magic, worked specifically on their total willful ignorance of how things worked. The creatures often made such ludicrous items that should never have worked, but often did because the koblins believed it should.

In that same vein, as an accomplished koblin Thief, Lurklox was able to use some of that kobbie-magic herself. Normally a Thief would use tools to open a lock, but that was too mundane for a skilled koblin.

While Lurklox might have once used tools, she was beyond such petty instruments now. The koblin used jokes, and the worse the joke the better, to force open locks.

The Thief must have Leveled Up quite a bit from attempting to “lock-trick” the various sealed chests and coffers that the caravan had with them. The biggest one of all, the heavy stone coffer that Elora found still eluded the best of them.

That didn’t stop Lurklox from trying every day, just like the pobul. And it had clearly worked.

Nothing short of magical artillery could have blasted open that door. A door, Vorax noted that those Hal sent to explore the cave didn’t seem to find.

Bolstered by the knowledge that the mimic and koblin team was doing good work, Vorax urged them on. Koblins, being beastmen, couldn’t attune themselves perfectly to the mental emanations of sympathetic connection like most monsters.

Instead, Vorax spoke to them. And as he wasn’t about to mimic koblin-speak, he spoke in his native tongue. Which was little more than a bunch of slapping and hissing noises with his oversized tongue.

“Shahshsh ashhan, slolop,” he said solemnly. The koblins all paused to look at him. They nodded in agreement.

In truth, it didn’t matter what Vorax said. He could have used words. But as monsters, the koblins were still able to pick up on his meaning even if he used words utterly alien to them.

Mimics didn’t speak to each other with crude vocalizations. Pushing air around to communicate was beneath the noble breed.

They pressed through tight spaces and narrow corridors, choosing those over the suspiciously large passages they kept weaving in and out of. Those places were large enough to host dozens of clans of the surly - but delightful - dwarves.

Like Hal, or perhaps because of Hal, the dwarves accepted monster-kin. They were a very pragmatic people. Hal allowed them, and if they chose to follow Hal then they would have to allow monsters into their lives as well.

Over time, the dwarves proved themselves valuable allies to both Hal and the monster-kin. They even went so far as to allow the koblins into their wagon that had small make-shift kilns and forges. Not enough to supply a settlement but enough to tinker and fool around with.

That fact alone spoke volumes for the stocky, hairy peoples. They may not have any monster in them - a pity, truly and Vorax wept for their disability - but they understood how to partake from the land without despoiling it.

Just like whoever built these tunnels and that gate they passed through. They paused just before entering into a hot and humid dark chamber. The koblins shuffled about on high alert, sensing something amiss ahead.

Vorax pulled himself from his thoughts and sent out a questing pulse of mana. Dozens, hundreds of tiny blips returned to him, signaling that the long room ahead held many monsters.

Not just any regular old monster though, Vorax realized with a toothy grin spreading across its lid. These were keinse, a few rungs on the monster hierarchy above slimes but still below most other monsters.

They were, however, very sociable. Now that Vorax attuned himself to their sympathetic emanations, he could hear them talking.

“Wonderfully dank in here today, boys,” said one.

A chorusing of leather wing flaps - agreement - sounded in the chamber.

“Any of youses thinkin’ about tasting some of that sweet gnatling out there on the Stoop?” one asked.

“Ahh, you crazy! It’s too cold out there. Just stay in here, Glitterscales will be along with some food soon.”

“You right, you right,” said another keinse.

“I wish he’d hurry up with breakfast, my furry little belly’s getting all bent outta shape here boys.”

“Maybe you should flap on up there and tell him yourself!”

A chorus of bat-wing flaps echoed.

“Eh! Maybe I will do just that! Watch me get first dibs on some juicy vile grubs!” With that, one of the bat-like creatures dropped from the ceiling and spread its wings wide to catch the warm air of the cavern.

A few flaps of its mighty wings and the keinse was flying easily in the long chamber. He wheeled about and disappeared down a side passage.

“Wonderfully dank this morning!” called out another keinse.

“And humid too!”

Another chorus of wing flap agreement as the bat-like keinse descended into inane comments about the warmth and humidity of the air over and over again with a constant refrain of assent.

Only that lone creature seemed to be different than the others.

Vorax, knowing that he would prove the best spokesman mentally cleared his throat to alert them of his presence.

The chorusing talk of dank caves and their many virtues died down immediately.

“Whassis?” a keinse said.

Vorax imparted his designs of friendship and cooperation. He explained - though he gave scant detail of Hal and the settlement to which they seemed unaware - about how they were looking for new friends.

It was a common enough request in the monster kingdom.

“Pack it in there box-boy! We ain’t lookin’ to get your lid all moldy and dank.”

At the mere mention of dankness, a horde of keinse chorused their approval without really seeming to understand where the conversation was coming from.

“Yes, yes, boys, I like it best when the weather is dank and dreary too! But we got a guest here and I wanna get it clear to him that we’re already spoken for.”

Vorax imparted his questions back to that specific keinse.

“We’re already spoken for, got a sweet gig here. We keep the caves free of pests, and do a few scoutin’ missions for the master and we get to spend all day in a warm dank cave. Ain’t this the life!”

Hundreds of keinse voiced their agreement, reminding Vorax - not so subtly - that they were vastly outnumbered. And even though keinse weren’t very strong, their numbers would prove disastrous.

Diplomacy was the name of the game here, Vorax understood.

“So’s we ain’t about to mess it all up by accepting no friendship. Best be hopping and bopping about back to where you came!”

Vorax imparted questions related to their master, careful not to probe. He wanted to set up a meeting, maybe if they talked to this master he could approve of their friendship.

The very fact that the mimic’s group had stumbled into an already established monster hierarchy did not bode well for Hal and his settlement. But the mimic kept that tightly in his lid.

“I like the cut of your lid, boy! Arright aright, we got ourselves a deal. We’ll guide you and your little friends to the bossman. Might as be you can find Steve along the way. He probably got lost getting his fur in a bristle over those vile grubs.”

Agreeing to the deal, the group was swiftly guided by a trio of keinse that flapped around them like little black halos. Unlike the keinse, each of them had to climb and clamber and squeeze through tight places that the bat-like creatures had no trouble with.

Eventually, they came out of the tight side passages, emerging onto a wide and elegantly carved winding staircase. Every so often a glass-encased flame let out a steady stream of light, bathing the white stones in amber hues.

They quickly reached an equally elaborate door of pale wood inlaid with mother-of-pearl and gold.

As soon as they approached it opened, but already before that Vorax knew something was amiss. The koblins, fearing nothing because they thought they were in the presence of friends, rushed into the room.

Vorax froze in place. Quibbles vibrated at a startling 9.1 deciquibbles. Only one thing could make Quibbles vibrate so fast. And as the keinse gently pushed against him, he slid across the smoothly worked stone into the room.

Once inside, he saw the source of Quibbles’ quivering.

There, in a room stuffed to the lid with books, scrolls, ink, and all manner of tomes, was the gargantuan gold-scaled head of a dragon.

It turned to regard Vorax with deep intelligent amber eyes. “Ah, the mimic has arrived. Wonderful, we can begin in earnest now.”

78

Hal looked curiously at Noth. “Can’t say I’ve tried to make bone bricks,” he said, rubbing at the stubble on his cheek. “It took me hundreds of mana just to make the base version of Emissary.” He motioned to the bone-and-shardite blade at his hip.

“Exactly my point!” Noth said, wagging a finger in his face. “You were making a weapon. Imagine what you might be able to make if you weren’t focused on making a stellar quality item. All we need is a lot of materials.

“With your ability to create bone, you could try to make something that was serviceable. As long as its at least as strong as the stone they can quarry from the mountains here, it should do.”

Hal let those thoughts sink in, crossing his arms over his chest and thinking about it. He had never tried to do something like that. Until rather recently he was only ever able to make weapons and the like.

It was worth a try, even if it didn’t pan out. Without trying to make something akin to metal he might be able to make a high volume of items. And with Improvised Crafting… he smiled as the beauty of Noth’s suggestion unfolded before him.

That smile was short-lived, however, as he felt a spike of fear and dread through his sympathetic bond with Vorax. That he could feel it over this distance meant it was severe.

Noth looked into Hal’s now frightened expression. “Hal, what is it?”

“Vorax is in trouble, come on,” Hal said. Splicing eldritch and aberration essence, he took off at a dead-run to the north. Toward Vorax. The last time the mimic had felt something so strongly was when Hal nearly lost himself to Besal.

He didn’t know why the mimic was so afraid, but he wasn’t about to let his best friend face it alone. He poured Convergence into his legs and pumped them so fast that even Noth’s long strides couldn’t match.

Hal coiled the energy in his legs and leaped twenty feet into the air. He landed on the next shelf at a steady run.

Hold on, Vorax. I’m coming.

* * *

“Big-eyes! Psshhkooh!” cried Lurklox, scrambling over a pile of books.

“Please do not-” began the rumbling Gold Dragon.

“Shiny-scales is tinker-smith!” Buffrix said, pointing at an interesting looking forge and anvil setup. “Shiny-scales can make kobbie-friends jingly-shines!”

“Get down from-” the Gold Dragon began again before being cut off once more by another koblin cry of delight.

Vorax watched it all with a great deal of fear trembling through his timbers. Like most monsters of great intellect, he knew of dragons and their great power.

Like treasuregorger mimics, dragons were smart and appreciative of the finer things in life. It also meant that - out of sheer necessity - the two were bitter rivals if not hated enemies.

What dragon wouldn’t want to kill a mimic if only for the juicy hoard of treasure it kept within itself? That selfsame treasure that kept Vorax alive.

Vorax wanted nothing more than to have Hal between himself and the dragon. While he wasn’t sure if the Beastborne would be able to fight the dragon on equal terms, he was fairly sure he would give the gold-scaled thing a run for its considerable money.

Long enough for Vorax to think of a way to escape.

The babble of the koblins, so happy at finding a new friend and so many interesting toys fell away, as Vorax scooted deeper into the room to look about.

Once the surge of fear vanished, the smart mimic began to understand why he had never seen the dragon before. Most dragons - even the goodly ones - did not take too kindly to strangers sitting on their front door as Hal and his group did.

Though it was still the first night, Vorax would have expected a rather brutal greeting from the creature, if only to fend them off and strengthen its bargaining power if Hal persisted.

But it hadn’t. It didn’t seem surprised that Vorax and the koblins were there either. Then again, that could be simple dragon arrogance. They rarely made it seem like anything surprised them.

Scooting a bit farther in, Vorax understood that the dragon couldn’t leave. Not without changing its form. And the mimic did not think that was possible.

The bulk of its body was hidden on the other side of the cave, perhaps even deeper in. Dragons were gargantuan creatures, and the fact that only the creature’s golden serpentine neck was visible told much.

The spacious cavern was cramped with books and tools of creation. Forges, workbenches, delicate glass vials and tubing, and so much more.

But everything was spaced with wide lanes of grooved stone. As if the dragon’s scales had scraped back and forth, over and over again across the same area.

To the inquisitive mimic, that told him the dragon was stuck in its much-too-large dragon form. There was no need to cram so much together if he could easily move around.

Of course it still could kill all of them with a single breath, but it wasn’t. It was trying to calm the koblins down like a parent might to a child.

Rather than grow incensed and lash out, it watched with faint amusement as the koblins climbed all over its hoarded goods. Something that very few dragons were capable of weathering with anything approaching good grace.

No, this dragon was different. Very different.

“Mimic,” the dragon intoned with more respect than he expected from the gargantuan creature. “Please calm down your fellows. I fear they may injure themselves. And I have not the hands to catch them if they fall from my home.”

Vorax lifted his lid and bellowed in his hissing voice, “Shaashahala!”

The koblins all stopped and turned to regard him. Lurklox slipped down a pile of books and cleared her throat sheepishly. “His Gargantuan Hoardness true-speaks, kobbies have forgotten act-kinds!”

Buffrix turned to the dragon and as one, the koblins bowed with one mitt over their chests. “Mercy-give kobbie-friends, muchly big-eyes at shiny-scales many-things!”

The dragon took a long moment to parse their meaning and nodded. “Very well,” he rumbled. Vorax could feel the entire mountain shake with him a little. “You are forgiven. Now, might I interest any of you in a spot of tea? I know I have some around here somewhere….”

Quibbles bounced happily on Vorax’s lid.

“You will not eat us?” Vorax imparted to the dragon.

His amber eyes opened fractionally and he paused in the middle of his search for tea. The dragon opened his toothy maw, gleaming ivory sword-long fangs littered its maw. “Eat you?” The very thought seemed incredulous to the dragon.

“Goodness no,” he continued. “We have so much to talk about. And it would be terribly rude of me to eat my guests. No, no, come this way little - what did you say you were, koblins? Delightful. Over here, yes, right there. Please pull out the fourth drawer in that cabinet.”

If the koblins ever thought they were any sort of danger, they never showed it. The creatures hopped quickly to help the dragon set up tea-time. Vorax hopped deeper into the dangerous home of the dragon.

Instead of gold and plunder, the place was filled wall to ceiling with books. More books, scrolls, tomes, and all manner of preserving knowledge littered the room. Crystals glowed varying colors held aloft on tall posts or dangling from fine chains high above.

It made the many nooks and crannies within the large chamber into a multi-colored tapestry of light. The mimic found himself quite entranced by the shifting colors as he hopped about, taking in the whole scene.

A burst of white-hot flame to the side stole Vorax’s attention and was met with raucous applause from the koblins. “Make-again!” they cried.

“Now, now, settle down my small green friends,” said the dragon. “Take a seat and I will look for….” He trailed off, looking at them. Then, deciding Vorax was likely the leader - showing off his incredible intelligence - he leaned his large head toward the mimic. “What do koblins eat?”

Vorax gave a mental shrug. He searched his memories of the koblins making all sorts of cakes and candies. Even one of them making a bowl of sugar for Komachi when the Guild was just forming.

That thought gave the mimic a burst of hissing laughter, “Shshshsash!” He did his best to impart the foods he saw the koblins eating, sugary things and strange culinary creations.

None of them had any meat, that seemed important.

“Vegetarians, eh?” mused the dragon. “Very well, I have some cookies from one of my visits around here… let’s see.”

While the dragon rooted around, snaking its long and graceful serpentine neck back and forth among the many rooms, Vorax hopped up to the koblins.

In short order, they had fashioned a dining table complete with a white cloth and several stacks of books to serve as chairs.

If the dragon was going to eat them, it was going through a lot of trouble to put them at ease.

“Foun-mph it!” called the dragon, holding something crinkly and blue delicately in his scaly lips.

79

“This way,” Hal said, climbing through a thin gap in the cavern. He had to switch back to shadow essence to use his Shadesight to get through. “Why was Vorax here in the first place?”

Following after him, Noth panted and struggled to pull herself up the small paths that were likely child’s play for the smaller mimic. If the koblins were with him as they should have been, their trek into the mountain would have been a simple affair.

Unfortunately for the much larger pair of them, the roof was barely four feet tall and the side cavern was hardly big enough to squeeze through one at a time.

“Should’ve sent the koblins here all along,” Noth said, her metal armor squealed as the stone grated against it. “They would have had an easy time navigating all the paths.”

“It certainly seems so,” Hal agreed.

“Are you sure they came this way?”

“Absolutely.” He knew without a shadow of a doubt that Vorax came this way. His connection to he mimic was muted within the caverns for some reason but he could follow his trail as if it were glowing neon green.

And so the two climbed and toiled as they followed their path until they reached the mythril gate. Neither of them could fathom how the group managed to open the gate but it didn’t matter in any case.

All it proved was that they were on the right track.

They managed to keep the cold at bay due to how hard they were working and so it came as a great surprise when a sudden hot breath of humid air hit them. Hal put up a hand and inched forward.

The cavern ahead was up a steep set of stair-like ledges. He pulled himself up one after the other and with Shadesight could see into the long room beyond. Hundreds of bat-like creatures littered the ceiling. A few flew around squeaking in various pitches.

Hal didn’t know what they were and he could only make out one in every tenth word. And even then he thought whatever Beastborne magic allowed him to understand monsters must be faulty.

He sincerely doubted any creature that could speak would only use a handful of words. All he could make out were “humid,” “dank,” “boys,” and “wonderful.” Their sentences were almost entirely comprised of some sort of remix of those words.

And so Hal figured he couldn’t really understand them. They would have to go back and find a way around. Fighting hundreds of bats didn’t seem fun and though Vorax went through here he didn’t want to risk a battle.

That was Hal’s plan, until a bat flew down and fluttered in place right in front of his face. It looked a bit like a fox bat but with black fur and with oversized fangs. “You Hal?” he asked in an excitable voice.

Hal nodded. “I am.”

“Alright!” he squeaked excitedly. The bat-thing flapped about in an excited circle and called up to his bat brothers and sisters. “I found him!”

Hal tensed, slowly inching his hand toward the hilt of [Emissary] if they had to fight, he wanted to be ready.

Instead of a battle cry, a chorus of groans and complaints met the proclamation. Several creatures voiced their dismay at missing out on the platter of some kind of grub, Hal missed the exact name.

“So, come on human-monster thing! Up up, my name’s Steve, I already know your name but what about the one behind you?”

“Noth,” she called up from behind Hal.

Hal shot her a curious look. “You can understand them?”

She shrugged. “Apparently.”

The three of them headed into the long chamber filled with the bats overhead. Now that the excitement was over, Hal realized that he was able to understand them the entire time. They just repeated the same things over and over again.

Steve kept up a stream of chatter the entire way. He never complained about how much slower the two went, though Hal could tell that the creature wasn’t used to anybody moving this slow.

It wasn’t that they weren’t able to go fast, rather the pathways were so horrendously cramped that if Hal was even slightly claustrophobic he probably never would have made it.

Tight corridors and narrow stairs often had the pair pressed up against lightless rock on both sides. And it was an effort to keep the thoughts of being crushed by thousands of tons of stone out of Hal’s head.

“Just up ahead, ol’ Shimmerscales wants to meet ya,” Steve said, flapping a lazy circle in the chamber ahead. Thankfully this last area was significantly wider.

They came out on a stairway from the narrow slot cavern. One set with glowing lights of crystals within cubbies in the stone. Everything had an ornate, worked appearance. Hal noted a little sourly that the stairs curved up and down out of sight. Meaning there was likely a much easier path up. One he intended to find when they left.

He let it pass quickly. The bat, had explained rather politely that he was, in fact, a keinse. Not a bat. He might look like a bat. Squeak like a bat, and have leathery wings like a bat. But he was most definitely not a bat.

Unlike most monsters Hal had met, the keinse seemed a bit more animalistic than monstrous. They were cute in a silly sort of way that he hardly expected from monsters.

His thoughts were cut short as they came to an elaborately decorated door. As the keinse approached, he found a small protrusion from the wall that Hal missed.

The keinse alighted on the thing and then swung downward until it was hanging upside down. As it did, the T-shaped lever was pulled down with his weight and the door opened soundlessly.

Hal came forward as Steve the keinse streaked into the room like a black dart. He seemed to know where he was going and so Hal followed. He could feel Vorax in the room and by the sound of koblin voices, he knew the koblins were here as well.

His heart stuttered in his chest when he saw the dominating figure of a massive gold-scaled dragon. Its bright amber eyes bore into Hal with a piercing gaze that rooted him to the spot.

Noth came in next and gasped at the sight of the dragon.

“Ah, more guests have arrived!” cried the dragon in a remarkably cultured voice. “Please come in. I was just about to serve a repast of cookies and tea. I’m terribly sorry I do not have much else to offer at the moment.” He shifted his massive gold head around. “I don’t get out much, you see.”

Hal stared at the tableau before him. Koblins sat at a makeshift table eating from plates piled high with… Hal squinted. “Are those oreos?”

The gold dragon looked back at the table, to the torn open blue package at its center. “Ah, yes I am afraid so. Terribly crude, I know. But the koblins appear to love them.”

“How did you get oreos?” Hal asked, striding into the room and up to Vorax. He placed a hand gently on the treasure chest’s lid.

The mimic imparted comfort and peace at Hal’s arrival and an apology for worrying him. Hal forgave him. Of course he did. He was just glad the mimic and the koblins were safe.

As safe as they could be in the den of a dragon, at least. Hal looked back up into the large amber eyes and the glowing gold scales. “I’m sorry,” Hal said. “I don’t believe I even know your name.”

The dragon bellowed a groan that shook the very mountain. Hal managed to keep standing, but only just. The plates of cookies rattled across the table and the koblins took advantage of the shakeup to snatch cookies from plates that weren’t their own.

“It has been a very long time since I have had any guests,” the dragon said. He snorted a gout of steam and motioned with his massive head off to the side.

Steve’s bat-like form was hanging upside down on a perch designed just for that purpose, right over a bowl piled high with wriggling green worms. The keinse gorged himself happily on them.

“As you see, refined guests are less common in these dangerous lands. Part of the allure, I suppose. But now I have new guests! Ah, yes. Yes. My name. Very tricky business, names. I know yours of course. Vorax could not stop gushing about you.

“Incredibly rare, that. Mimics usually detest anything but their next meal or a shiny bauble. Quite a feat you’ve managed, Hal. Oh. Right, my name. I’ve gone and done it again, haven’t I? My name is Orrittam. And I have been waiting for you for a very long time, Hal.”

“You have?” he asked, the tension easing out of him as curiosity got the better of him.

“Oh, goodness no! I just thought that was quite a pleasantly suspenseful thing to say! I always wanted to say something dark and mysterious like that.” Orrittam barked a laugh, a twin jet of gold flame erupting out of his nostrils.

“Mister Shimmerscales is muchly hearth-giver!” Lurklox proclaimed, stuffing another cookie into her… mask-mouth-thing. Hal tried not to think about it too much. He politely averted his eyes, focusing on the grandiose dragon.

The creature was beautiful, though it took up most of the cavern with its long serpentine neck and twisting horns, it somehow managed to seem less imposing than before. Gold barbels draped off his golden snout like great whiskers.

The rest of its body went far back into the cavern gleaming in the dark like a wall of solid gold. Hal got the distinct impression that it was stuck. Why it didn’t simply bust out with its draconic strength, he didn’t quite know.

“Komachi would love you,” Hal said with a chuckle.

80

Orrittam Shimmerscales was a gracious host, insofar as a dragon could be. Which, according to Hal, was a far sight better than most humans could manage.

They ate cookies, twinkies, and various other snack foods that were well past their expiration dates but still tasted fine. They drank earl grey tea from chipped teacups and mismatched saucers.

The only finery that Orrittam Shimmerscales seemed to possess was a massive collection of books. Of which he was all too happy to gush about at length, often getting sidetracked from the conversation at hand.

He was unlike any creature Hal ever met.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Hal said, turning his gaze to their host. “How is it you’re trapped in here?”

While it was obvious that the cavern system was much bigger, this side showed several open-air portals that gave a breathtaking view of the Shiverglades. And Hal’s little Settlement below.

He walked over to the nearest opening, sidling past a stack of books lit in a pale blue. The Settlement, what little there was of it, looked so small and insignificant. But even then, it was beautiful.

The whole valley was glorious and Hal deeply enjoyed the view. He actually enjoyed it so much that he entirely missed Orrittam’s reply. He turned back to the patient dragon. “I’m sorry,” Hal said, motioning to the view behind him. “I just-”

“Yes,” Orrittam said. “Quite the view, is it not? Your people are busy working, even though you just arrived. A commendable start. I look forward to seeing what you build.”

Hal raised a brow at that. “You don’t want us to leave?”

He had avoided that line of questioning on purpose, hoping that he could somehow convince the dragon to let them stay. He didn’t harbor any notions of being a dragon-slayer and even if he did, the gold dragon was much too kind for him to truly consider it.

But that Orrittam would willingly want them there… he didn’t dare hope.

“Oh yes, I love watching civilizations rise. It is the best part of being immortal, you know. I could, if you were interested, help guide you from time to time. I have seen much in my many years, traveled to many faraway realms.” As if to drive home the point, the dragon looked to the shredded up packages of snack foods.

“Though my current status is… regrettably stationary, I have at my disposal a wealth of knowledge. Both experienced firsthand and in the books I do so love to collect. Already I see that the Shiverglades has taken offense to your settling.

“No surprise, that. And you are already building fortifications, you need not worry about attacks from any direction but the mouth of the valley. I have many friends who make sure the ridges and mountains are safe. No enemy will be at your back. Unless you consider me an enemy.”

“Not unless you want to be one,” Hal said with a surprising amount of confidence. “I would be honored to receive your guidance. To be honest, this whole leading thing is a bit more than I bargained for.”

The gold dragon nodded sagely, quoting Shakespeare in an eloquent accent, “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

Hal snorted. “That it does. And so, I would graciously accept.”

“We both would,” Noth said, snacking on a twinkie. “This is amazing. Where did you get all this from?”

“Earth,” the dragon replied with a sly grin. “In my youth, I used to be quite the realm walker.”

That perked Hal up. “You can travel between worlds?” Noth shot him a concerned look. “Where else have you been?” Hal asked, more to allay Noth’s worries about his interest in going back to Earth.

He was wholly dedicated to Aldim but… Earth was his home. No matter how long he may live on Aldim, it would always be his home. Visiting might be nice. Once things settled down and there were no pressing threats to deal with.

Noth relaxed a little, the gold dragon didn’t miss anything with his keen amber eyes. He gave a slight nod. “I, like many others who can realm walk, can only travel to another Worldshard.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It is an important distinction but for the time being, not pertinent or important to your task. Which, at this very moment is being threatened. I wish I could join in the active defense of your people but all I can do is give you the aid of my keinse.”

Hal furrowed his brow. “Maybe we could help you-”

Orrittam was shaking his large head. “I would welcome the help any other time, but you cannot afford to split your attention at this important juncture. I have seen the attention the Shiverglades gives to new arrivals.

“You will not survive if you spend days aiding me. I have been… in my present predicament for some time. I will gladly take you up on the offer should you survive the initial assault. But until then, I will not allow you to doom your people.

“But come, let’s talk about something that I can do for you. Namely, the use of my keinse. They are small and scatterbrained at times, but their hearts are in the right place.”

Vorax echoed Orrittam’s assessment.

The dragon’s amber eyes slid from Hal to the mimic and back. “You are a strange creature,” he said with a wide grin. “Rare is the man that can befriend a monster. Rarer still is the man that takes council from a monster and holds it in high esteem.”

Hal wasn’t sure what to say to that. Thankfully, Orrittam saved him from needing to.

“I can see praise still sits uncomfortably upon your broad shoulders,” he said with a chuckle so deep that the air seemed to bend and warp with the dragon’s voice. “Then let us talk about something else. My keinse are numerous and while they may be strange, they will heed your orders if I tell them to.

“You have never met a keinse before.” The gold dragon realized with a nod of his oversized head. “That makes sense. Keinse possess a very potent version of echolocation. They can see quite well despite their bat-like nature. They are able to detect fluctuations in mana. I suppose you could call it manalocation.

“Naming schemes aside, they are capable of pinpointing creatures hundreds of feet below them. And a common keinse - let alone my skilled friends - can range ten miles or more in a single night.”

It took Orrittam explaining the peculiar nature of the keinse for Hal to understand where the dragon was going with all this. The keinse would be the perfect scouts.

With the keinse ranging out ahead, they could detect where monsters were clustered and what paths they were taking. The Rangers could take that information further, setting traps and thinning out the ranks of the creatures before they ever got within striking distance of the Settlement.

But Hal wasn’t so naïve anymore that he thought Orrittam would do this out of the goodness of his heart. “What do you want out of it?” he asked politely.

The question seemed to take the dragon off-guard. “I suppose you should not expect to receive something for nothing,” he said, lowering his head to the stone floor. He seemed sad.

“I can only imagine the trials that have brought you here. Suspicion is a natural reaction. But I tell you truthfully, I request no payment in kind. If you truly wish to know what I will gain out of this, besides a friend, then look no further to the defense your rising Settlement will provide me.”

Hal wasn’t so sure about that but it was Noth who spoke his mind first. “It would seem like we would be more annoyance than defense,” she said. “I doubt the Shiverglades is going to lie down and accept us if we push back one incursion.” She caught a look in the amber eyes of the dragon. “I am right, aren’t I?”

He nodded. “You are,” Orrittam replied. “The Shiverglades is not a kind place. Only the strong survive here and those that you face will have survived many generations of life here. The monsters that come against you will be suited to the climes of the Shiverglades.”

“Then how are we a defense?” Hal asked. “It sounds like we would attract attention more than anything.”

Orrittam chuckled, tiny jets of gold flame snorting from his nostrils.

“What’s so funny?” Noth asked.

“Mortals,” Orrittam said as if it was answer enough. He cleared his throat, realizing that his two guests hadn’t caught on. “Oh. You do not know.” He turned to the koblins who were watching the exchange with rapt attention. “You see it, do you not?”

“Kobbies eye-peek Havior’s shifty-make,” Buffrix said with a nod. His green lenses glinting in the light of the cavern.

“What shifty-make?” Hal asked.

“You no longer need to think in terms of days, weeks, or even years,” Orrittam kindly explained. “It will take some time to adjust, I am sure. Such things always do. But you need to align your worldview to that of a dragon. You are immortal Hal. Both of you are. So long as that Manaseed thrives, you will live on.

“And that, my friends, is why I am so pleased to have you as my neighbor. Immortality is a lonely existence. I do not look to the coming weeks or months, or even years. I look to the decades and centuries. I see tall gleaming walls of white welcoming visitors from across Aldim.

“I see a people who will know struggle and strife, and will be better for it. I see a strong nation being born. You ask what I will gain from helping you? I gain a front-row seat at the birth of an Empire.”

81

It was one thing to suspect it, and an entirely different thing altogether to be flat-out told he was immortal. Not just that, but that Noth was as well. Though, she hardly seemed surprised by the revelation.

The woman only recently was mortal, barely a vacation. Hal shook his head. “I don’t suppose you have any armor or weapons we might be able to use,” Hal said looking around.

Nothing of the sort leaped out at him, though he did notice a great many crafting stations. The forge looked more than serviceable, and he spotted an [Alchemist’s Bench] off to the side.

“Unfortunately, I am not that sort of dragon,” Orrittam said with a toothy grin. Ivory teeth gleamed in sharp contrast to his golden scales. “However, what I do collect is knowledge. I may have a few blueprints and designs here that might help you along your way. Unfortunately, the bulk of my library is… currently inaccessible.”

Noth narrowed her eyes at the dragon. “Are you… blushing?”

“The entry to my library is in a sensitive location that even if you were small enough to pass by, I would not feel comfortable allowing you to do so,” he said without looking either of them in the eye. “And let us speak no more of it. But what I have up here is yours to peruse. I only ask that you do not take anything from here.”

That brought a snort of laughter from Noth, and Vorax promptly abandoned his ideas of poking around the dragon’s prison-home.

Hal rested a comforting hand on the mimic’s lid. “I had an idea about starting a library, an athenaeum that houses information about the world and its various systems. What Classes and Professions there are, and techniques for learning them.” He looked hopefully at the dragon, but his golden barbels were swaying as he shook his head.

“That is currently… below. I am sorry, but for the time being, I cannot help with that. Not to be rude, I doubt you even have a blueprint for an athenaeum presently. And, as I said, splitting your attention could prove disastrous.

“Hal, you now have the lifespan most mortal creatures commit vile acts for the mere suggestion that they might attain a fraction of a longer life. You have the ability to devote yourself wholly to a single task even if it takes a century.”

“But first I have to safeguard the Manaseed,” Hal finished for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. Ashera’s problem would, unfortunately, have to take a backseat for the time being. “Very well, tell me how I can direct the keinse.”

They talked for a long time, and though the koblins fell asleep at the table they never even thought to leave Hal alone with the dragon. Not because they distrusted the gold-scaled creature. In fact, they clearly seemed to love and adore Orrittam.

He was unlike any dragon Hal ever knew of. Smart, cultured, and disturbingly kind. He supposed that if he had the power to crush villages and castles easily, he would feel comfortable being kind and sweet as well.

Anybody who tried to take advantage of him or use it to harm him would quickly find out why so few people claim the title of dragonslayer.

Hal learned a great deal from Orrittam. They talked well into the early light of the morning, and the view that greeted Hal from the window was a magnificent one.

As the sun crested to his left, it stretched long inky shadows over the swirling fog eddies of the Shiverglades. Cold fog spilled up and over the ridges to fall gracefully into the valley.

Fires were lit and lines began to form for the various cookfires set up. Hal knew somewhere down there Ashera would be making food and as tired as he was, he couldn’t wait to get down there and share the good news with them.

They had a dragon for an ally.

How many people could say that?

Hal looked over his shoulder to find Orrittam close by, peering out of the same rounded hole in the mountain. “It is a beautiful place to settle,” he said. “I have watched over this place for nigh on half a century. I know many of its secrets. The next time you visit, please feel free to use the stairs. I feel you will enjoy the trip much more. And, of course, that will mean you are likelier to visit again!

“I do so enjoy having visitors, Hal. From one immortal to another, I will be keeping a watchful eye on your burgeoning Settlement.”

With that, Hal, Noth, Vorax, and the koblins all left. They took the stairs, just as Orrittam suggested and the entire way Hal went over everything the dragon had told him.

From ideal places for defenses to fertile plots of land for farming - not that he had access to farming Building Schematics yet - the dragon seemed to know pretty much everything about the valley.

Anything outside of the valley, well that was an entirely different matter.

The descent was uneventful, just the way Hal preferred it. The koblins chattered back and forth in their typical adorable language. Hal responded when prompted but otherwise kept to himself.

He couldn’t help but plan out the Settlement based on the new information that Orrittam had provided to him. And with the keinse, they would have an early detection system.

Several notifications blinked in the corner of his vision, demanding his attention. Now that it wouldn’t be rude to do so, Hal looked at them.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was offend a dragon.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 27(32).

+1% Party damage (+32%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+64%).

You have unlocked Tactician Level (0).

Tacticians ply their trade in a wide variety of ways. From civil engineering projects to plotting the ambush and downfall of enemy troops, a Tactician wears many hats. A difficult skill to come by, often requiring high Leadership for the worldview afforded one in such a position, Tacticians gain perks every 5 Levels instead of the typical 10.

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 1.

+1% Planning efficacy (+1%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+1%).

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics (-0.5%).

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters (+0.5%).

I didn’t even know that skill existed. He nearly tripped on one of the stairs reading the skill description and the host of boons it came with. Not only that, but it gained perks at twice the rate of other skills?

He was happier than ever to have met Orrittam.

On the way down, Hal instructed Vorax to reach out to the bat-like creatures and relay the orders Orrittam had given him. There were hundreds of the things and though they were ill-suited to battle, they were perfect for Hal’s plans.

The golden dragon gave Hal full reign of them with the stipulation that he wouldn’t unduly expose them to harm. And Hal had no intention of harming the goofy creatures.

All he wanted was to protect his home. To that end, he would need to go out into the Shiverglades. If he truly was going to play a pivotal role beyond the generic leader, he needed EXP.

A lot of it.

By using Shae’kathoth’s soul, his Dominate Sigil would be twice as powerful, increasing its already extensive 25 limit to 50. Of course, the EXP requirement would double as well. There was no getting around that.

But being able to command 50 of the enemy and turn them against their fellows could be the very thing that turns the tide of battle.

They passed through multiple gates of wrought mythril, the silvery-green metal swung open when Hal depressed a hidden switch in the wall. They shut again behind them, but he knew how to open them.

As they came out into the pale, colorless light of a new day, Noth put a hand on Hal’s shoulder. From their vantage point, the caravan vanished behind a screen of trees leaving the valley in a state of pure untouched nature.

“Our new home is beautiful,” she said softly. When Hal turned to her, she smiled. “You need to get some sleep.”

A thin smile creased his lips and he looked out onto the valley, agreeing wholeheartedly with Noth. It was beautiful. And it would be even more beautiful once they no longer had to worry about being attacked.

It was all well and good to plan and prepare. And maybe just maybe, Hal could make a difference in the creation of buildings or their placement. But that wasn’t where his skills lay.

In fact, if he was being honest with himself, the whole trek to the Shiverglades had put him in a sort of limbo. Where he needed to act like a leader but wasn’t able to necessarily grow like one.

Compared to the short period of time he spent in the Coffin District, his skills and Levels had stagnated. While pushing himself like that would be suicidal at best in the Shiverglades, he could go out with the Rangers and at least get some much-needed EXP.

Like many other members of the caravan, his skills were lacking compared to where he imagined they would be. But they had a rare opportunity to explore and set the battlefield before them.

Resolved to delegate more responsibilities for overseeing the construction of the Settlement, Hal set off down the tiered slopes leading up and into the mountain.

He had to trust Orrittam’s word that nothing would attack him from behind. Despite the obvious gains the dragon would have from lying to him and pillaging his Settlement, he found he believed the gold-scaled creature.

Vorax was in agreement that Orrittam Shimmerscales was an ally and a friend. Somebody that they could rely on, even if the giant dragon wasn’t able to directly assist in the fighting - and what a shame that was! - he still had valuable information to give.

His crafting stations were quite advanced as well, and though he didn’t bring it up Hal hoped that the dragon would be receptive to a select few people using them. The makeshift forges the dwarves and koblins created in the caravans were far from efficient. If he could get a few of the most accomplished crafters to use those stations, they might be able to make superior weapons or items that normally they couldn’t make at their current Settlement Level.

With any luck, they could leapfrog a full Settlement Level by having access to things they would normally have to build piecemeal.

As the caravan came into view, Hal had to remind himself that such things were in the future. Right now he had to look to the present. His future - and the future of the entire Settlement - consisted of nothing more than the next seven days.

82

Hal veered away from the sight of the caravan, drawing confusion from his friends.

“Hal?” Noth called after him. “Where are you going?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and gave a tired smile. “Something I should have done at the same time I planted the Manaseed. It might not change the next week, but over time I hope it will help us.”

Curious, Vorax scooted and hopped along the grass toward Hal. His entourage of koblins followed but Noth, with her long legs, reached him first.

“What do you mean?” she asked, concern written plain across her face.

After fishing in his inventory a second, Hal held up a small collection of dark oval seeds the size of grapes. “These are Treant Seeds. I also have Treant Cuttings and Wortling Cuttings. If I plant these in the soil here, it should grow the monstrous plants. My hope is I can cultivate them to help us. Without having to use my Founder Sigils.”

“Where are you going to plant them?” she asked, still following his measured strides. “You clearly have a place in mind.”

He did indeed. The one place he felt that would help the fledgling plants to thrive in the cold environs of the Shivergaldes. The very heart of their Settlement and furthermore, the one place he hoped that would convert the monsters into something more.

Allies.

“I’m going to plant them near the Manaseed.”

“Do you think its influence will change them for the better?”

“I don’t know, Noth. But it’s worth a shot I think. Beyond that, it might help them grow faster or be stronger. Who knows? But I’m finally in a place I can plant them and I mean to do so.”

It didn’t take them long to reach the site of the Manaseed. Already the green shoot of the tree was knee-high and as thick around as Hal’s wrist. Amazing progress in such a short time.

Taking the materials out of his bag, Hal walked a respectful distance away from the Manaseed, about two-hundred feet, and began to plant the [Wortling Cuttings] which still resembled the limbs of the Wortlings Hal had once commanded.

In a weird way, he still missed them. And he wondered whatever happened to that last Wortling. He had always expected it to come back with a horde of its fellows, its parent Worttree furious at Hal’s theft and looking for revenge.

Instead… nothing happened. He never saw the Wortling or any sign of it again and for some reason that Hal couldn’t understand, that made him sad. He’d miss Stumpy most of all and some small irrationally human part of him hoped that the creature was still out there, alive and free.

But of course, that was ridiculous.

Hal took his time, even giving some seeds out to the koblins and Noth to plant in a wide circle around the Manaseed. Far enough away that he hoped any nutrients they might take would not cost the Manaseed. Yet close enough that the Manaseed might have a strong influence on their growth.

In total, Hal and his friends planted 7 [Treant Seeds], 3 [Wortling Cuttings], and a single [Bag of Treant Cuttings].

The cuttings would grow fastest. And thanks to the unique magic of Expanded Space, the long journey to the Shiverglades didn’t harm the plants one bit. He breathed a sigh of relief when he still saw green leaves on the treant cuttings.

Wiping the dirt from his hands onto his pants, Hal shivered at the cold fog that rolled around his ankles. “I need a warm bed,” Hal said around a jaw-creaking yawn.

Noth cast him a wry grin. “For three hours of sleep?”

Without missing a beat Hal said, “Maybe I’ll treat myself and get four.”

* * *

Slap.

Slap. Slap.

Slap. Slap. Slap.

Elora started awake just as Komachi’s tail slapped across her face again. The little pobul was head-first tucked in under the covers and resting on Elora’s chest. But her tail draped across her shoulder and occasionally would swish across her face.

Unfortunately, Komachi’s tail was quite thick, and rather than a soft batting it was a hefty slap each time it passed over her face.

“I’m up,” she groaned, reaching down into the covers and pulling the sweet pobul out. She knew Komachi was awake, just as Komachi knew that Elora knew.

Their familiar bond made it hard for the tricky little otter to pull a fast one over Elora. Still, that didn’t stop Komachi from pretending to be a particularly fluffy and dense pillow as Elora held her aloft.

She rose out of her bunk with ease, still holding Komachi with both hands and slipped out of her bunk. She would be so glad for a little privacy. Her bare feet touched the cold floorboards and she quickly went behind the dividing curtain between the driver’s seat and the wagon that served as a dressing area.

Without ever setting Komachi down, Elora stripped out of her old clothes and into her freshly laundered [Huntsman Outfit]. The increased Insulation made a big difference.

Tucking Komachi into her armor and lacing up the jacket to keep her snug in there, Elora paused on her way out of the wagon. Mira was half out of her bunk, snoring like a drunkard. Hal and Noth were nowhere to be seen.

That Hal was gone was little surprise. He rarely seemed to sleep anymore. It was more than a trifle troubling. She thought it was just the stress of leadership but the longer their trip went the less he slept.

I’ll need to talk to Ashera about it.

With so much to do, she didn’t blame him. He had come far since the young man she rescued in the woods. Farther than she could have ever hoped. All too soon Elora’s dream was about to become a reality. A Sanctum, a safe haven for those living under the oppressive rule of Rinbast.

She still couldn’t believe it.

Even with the threat of an attack looming, she could hardly stop the smile that crept onto her face. A smile, she told herself, that had nothing to do with Ashera’s angelically peaceful slumbering expression.

Forcing herself away from her best friend, Elora left the wagon and was immediately greeted by the smell of a hearty dwarven breakfast. Hoping to get a jump on the day, she walked over to the cookfire and waited in line for some breakfast.

As she did, she stuck a finger down her jacket which was promptly grabbed by Komachi’s surprisingly strong and dexterous little paw. “Well,” Elora said with a smile. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Sleepeh,” Komachi grumped. “Too cold.”

Elora’s smile turned into a concerned frown. “I know sweetie. We’ll get some breakfast and then do something about that Quest all right?”

Komachi yawned and pulled Elora’s finger closer to her curled up form inside the Wildsmaster’s jacket. Her whiskery cheek nuzzled Elora’s hand. “Komachi believes in you.”

It was enough to nearly make the battle-hardened woman cry.

There was such an overwhelming flood of trust and hope in those four words through their bond that she was almost knocked off her feet. Elora looked at the Quest she received shortly after coming into the heart of the Shiverglades.

Quest: Kold, Kold Komachi.

Komachi is cold. As her Wildsmaster, it is your solemn duty to make sure your familiar is comfortable and battle-ready. You can dismiss them to their own pocket dimension but it will not stop their discomfort whenever they join you on the material plane. As a pobul, Komachi is not used to the frigid climes of the Shiverglades. Find some way to warm her up and keep her that way.

Objectives

- Warm Komachi up and keep her warmed up.

Rewards

- +2 Familiar Handling.

- 1,500 Experience Points.

After getting a double helping of breakfast, Elora struck off to the wagon Hal had told her about. Apparently, Hal had already talked to one of the dwarves who might be able to help her.

She knew he meant well and wanted to help but there was already so much he was dealing with. And more to the point, this was Elora’s task. Not Hal’s. She was grateful for the help but she did not want to add to the man’s already considerable list of tasks.

No sooner had she knocked than a ruddy dwarven face poked out. His watery blue eyes squinted at her. “Aye?”

“I heard you’re fairly talented at Weaving,” Elora said.

“Might’n I be,” he hedged, still not opening the door to the wagon all the way.

Elora shook her head. The ease at which Hal interacted with the dwarves was startling. They seemed to accept him with open arms. Elora had no idea how he did it.

Thankfully, she had a secret weapon.

Pulling Komachi out of her jacket, she cradled the sweet furry creature in her arms. “I need something for my familiar, for Komachi.” The pobul clung to Elora’s arm with all four limbs, and quietly chirped a greeting to the dwarf.

As was usual, the dwarf’s eyes lit up when he saw the adorable thing. Komachi’s charms never failed. And if they did, they didn’t fail for long.

In a short amount of time, Elora was let inside the warm interior of the wagon where Komachi could snooze comfortably warm in the surprisingly heated interior. She loafed on the table near the [Heating Shard], a red piece of ensorcelled [Shardite] suspended on a metal tripod that heated the whole room.

“The bossman’s already given me some material to work with,” the weaver mentioned, rooting around in a chest and pulling out a strange bolt of black stardusted material. “Says it’s a new creation o’ his, Starsilk or sommat.”

The black material didn’t fit Komachi, Elora looked at it curiously then the weaver. “Can it be dyed?”

The glint in the weaver’s eye was enough of an answer on its own. “Aye, lass. If yer willin’ to do the huntin’ I’ll make it any durned color o’ the rainbow ye like.”

Elora walked over to Komachi and pet her gently. The little pobul rumbled soothingly showing her contentment. Warm affection flooded through their bond for Elora. As badly as Elora wanted to leave Komachi in the warm room where she would be comfortable, the pobul wouldn’t accept it.

That was part of what made the whole affair so frustrating.

Komachi wanted to be warm but refused to stay somewhere warm if Elora wasn’t there. And so, with Elora needing to find some dying ingredients, she would have to stuff Komachi back in her jacket and take her along.

Halfway out the door, Komachi nestled in her jacket, she paused and turned. Her eyes fell upon the red glowing crystal. “Who made that?”

An idea came to her then. One that, if she was right, might solve more than just her problem.

83

Elaise landed lightly on the balls of her feet. The 50-foot drop hardly slowed her forward momentum. She bounded over moss-covered downed logs, swerved around frosted pools of dark water, and picked her way across the swift moving rivers that had only begun to gather ice at their banks.

The very air was different here. Primal. As one of the Ebon Star Tribe, Elaise had called the Shiverglades home her entire life. But never had she traveled so far into their heart.

That Hal and his Bravers Tribe had chosen this place as their home was beyond brash. It bordered on suicidal. And the Shiverglades had told them in no uncertain terms that they were not welcome.

At least he is not a coward, she mused, landing so softly among the cold grass that she made scarcely a whisper of sound.

Time would tell whether he was an idiot or brave beyond his means. Elaise had seen nothing of the power the Warleader seemed to find so impressive. But from the way the others spoke about him, there was something more to Hal than even her keen gaze could detect.

That they had a pobul - a pobul of all things! - in their midst spoke volumes for the Bravers. And they had no idea the miraculous gift in their midst. Elaise wanted to whisk the pobul away from such uncivilized people.

But she had a meeting to attend with the Warleader. And her duties to her Tribe always came first.

Elaise climbed a colossal tree as easily as if she walked on flat ground. From its lowest boughs - nearly 30 feet off the ground - she spied a creature of blue fog with brilliant sapphire eyes enter the clearing.

Of course, the Warleader would go nowhere without protection or caution.

It looked straight at her, despite her incredibly high Stealth and skill with choosing the best position. And then it turned away, vanishing into faint blue wisps.

Elaise was down from the tree and running through that wispy trail in a twinkling. She followed it through the twists and turns of the Shiverglades, glad that the Warleader had come at the appointed hour.

Even if she saw fit to change the meeting location. As if the savages that came to their land could follow her. It was almost insulting how much concern and caution the Warleader heaped on this band of misfits.

“Tell me everything,” Aleya said at the exact moment Elaise broke into the small glade. The Standing Stones decorated the perimeter, ancient weathered things of a bygone era. Their runes gave off a dull blue glow of power despite being festooned with choking weeds and vines.

And so, as was her place in this affair, Elaise told Warleader Aleya Starsong everything she saw. Everything she thought, and many things she did not find important or notable.

Those, of course, would be the most interesting things to the Warleader. Why, Elaise could never quite figure out. But she seemed to divine the most important meanings from the more mundane affairs.

But even the Warleader could not stop herself from showing surprise when Elaise informed her of the pobul. She shifted her dark furs, quickly covering the slip.

“A pobul. You speak truly?” Aleya asked.

“Yes, Warleader. I saw the divine being with my own two eyes. I was even… granted permission to pet the honored-one known as Komachi.” Elaise lowered her eyes, focusing on the green grass at her feet. When winter came in full, these glades would remain green and lush. They were a marvel of an earlier time. A time when pobuls roamed Aldim.

A time before the Drowning.

“Raise your eyes, child,” Aleya said with a hint of mirth. “You do me no dishonor for having been chosen first among us. A pobul chooses as a pobul wills. To hold grudge or resentment is folly. That does not mean I am not envious, but I am glad for your contact with her.”

“Should we rescue her, Warleader?”

“Do you doubt the will of a pobul?” Aleya asked, her voice taking on a sharp edge. “This is the first of its kind to return to Aldim in over five centuries. Longer, even. Do you doubt that they would be anywhere but precisely where they wish to be? They are the movers of the stars. The aligners of planets. If this burgeoning Tribe knows aught of her, then that is for the better.”

“They love her,” Elaise said. “But they know not what a gift has been bestowed upon them.”

Aleya nodded, resting her hands on her hips and shaking out her braided blonde hair. “And no doubt, just as our people once did before the Drowning, they would erect monumental temples to her honor. But from what you have told me, she does not wish this. Even grows uncomfortable when people begin to lavish too much attention on her.”

“Yes, Warleader. She seems… aware of the path that will take and makes attempts to forestall such eventualities. No matter how inevitable they may be.”

“Should she approach you and ask, you will afford her all the respect that she is due, yes?”

The question was practically a slap in the face. But Elaise did well to hide her indignation. This too, was a test. Like much with the Warleader, this was a means to gauge her response. To see if she had regressed to a state of savagery where her emotions ran wild.

She could not begrudge the Warleader her concern.

With a slight bow, she said, “I will, Warleader. All my knowledge would be open to her velvety paws if she but asked. Until then, I will maintain my vigil. I will watch and learn and aid where I might but….”

“What is it, Elaise?”

The use of her name snapped her gaze up to meet Aleya’s. She quickly colored and looked away to hide it. “I… do not believe they will survive the coming assault. They know not what they have stirred.”

A deep rich chuckle filled the glade. “Do you wish to be reassigned?” Aleya taunted, knowing full well that Elaise’s bravery was not in question. “Would you rather see them fall from afar instead of all around you?”

Elaise stood tall and straight as if her spine was made of starmetal. “Never! I would stand beside them to the last if that was your command, Warleader. I would die alongside the heathens if that was your decree. But I thought… perhaps-”

“Perhaps we should guide the pobul known as Komachi to safer environs before the devastation?” Aleya said, thinking she had finished Elaise’s thought.

“No.”

That simple word, spoken so rarely to the Warleader set an oppressive hush over the glade. The Warleader had guessed wrong.

In a bid to spare the Warleader’s feelings, Elaise added, “Yes, but I would ask something else instead.”

Aleya watched her, tilting her head to one side waiting.

“Might we aid them?” Elaise said, her voice hushed. She knew what she was asking was highly irregular. Not just for herself - who had seen countless expeditions destroyed, some by her own hand - but as a request directed at the Warleader, it was bordering on insubordination.

“You would have the Ebon Star help the fangrah?” Aleya’s voice was curious but Elaise could tell the strain that ran like an undercurrent through her words. She had known all along before coming to this meeting that the Warleader would not expect her request.

She hadn’t been sure she would even ask. But talk of the pobul brought her back to those hours spent alongside these strange people. They were made of sterner stuff than any other save the various tribes of the Shiverglades.

And even then… they rivaled some of them. Surely they were better than the Poisonhearts. And so Elaise began to wonder if they couldn’t lend them some aid. More allies against the darkness in the north could never be a bad thing.

She began to see strength in the people that followed this Hal. Surely the sign of a pobul was enough that their cause was just. That their mettle was not found wanting.

A pobul would never have approached them if they were not wise, kind, and brave in turn. And this Komachi… she seemed more than a typical pobul. Saw more than all, save perhaps Elaise. She knew the danger arrayed against them, she had to.

And yet the pobul was sanguine about the whole affair. That meant Komachi either deeply trusted this group to see through to the other side of the conflict… or she trusted that Elaise would secure for her additional aid.

Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat at the thought of failing that wellspring of trust the pobul placed in her. Elaise would see no harm done to the pobul and even the thought wounded her to her core. She nodded. “I would see them become a Tribe of the Shiverglades on their own merit. But this goes beyond anything we have seen before. You know what they will face. It will destroy them. Without aid, they will die.”

84

Aleya sighed. “You ask for much, and give little. I wished only for you to watch and monitor them. Lead them to where they wish to go but no more unless you desired it. I have seen you carrying loads of building supplies for them. Perhaps you are too close to these people.”

Elaise realized where this was going and clenched her fists to stop her from denying her claims. They were true, after all. “You speak the truth. I have given them succor when I deemed it appropriate. On their own, I feel they would thrive in the Shiverglades. Given time and a gentle guiding hand.”

“Sending Ebon Star Tribesmen to their aid is hardly that,” Aleya pointed out with a snort of laughter.

“What rises against them is also our enemy, is it not?” Elaise tried to reason. If she could make the Warleader see it as a common threat, she might be willing to bend on the issue.

It was their only hope.

The look in Aleya’s eyes told Elaise that she was on the mark. That the Bravers were arrayed against their mortal enemies, the festering wound upon the Shiverglades, did indeed make the Warleader consider the possibilities.

What cause would she have to allow them to be destroyed? Even if they were weak, another tribe could take them out instead if they were found wanting. But against the darkness of the Shiverglades? What good would there be in letting that vileness score another win?

The Bravers had no Standing Stones, no Wardings. They had a tree of suspicious origin and even that was barely a twig. They would fall like so many others to the tide of darkness coming their way.

“You speak the truth,” Aleya said finally. “To allow the shadesblight to spread one inch more would be a devastating blow to the Shiverglades as a whole. But there are… accords in place. Rules that cannot be broken. No matter how profane the outcome. To offer further aid and succor to these people would be to break the Horgrettr. And that, I will not do.”

“But they will perish to a man,” Elaise burst out.

The Warleader gave her an arched brow. “Perhaps you should be pulled back. Lest you suffer their corrupting, savage ways.”

Elaise knew that the Warleader was giving her an out. All she had to do was take it and this assignment of hers could be over. She could bask in the warmth of the Standing Stones once more.

These people were not her people. No matter how kind and accepting they had been to her. No matter how much they tried to talk to her, to include her in ways that even her own tribe did not.

They were fangrah and they always would be until the moment the other tribes recognized them. She had to remember that. And yet it was hard to see them as something apart from her now.

With a start, she checked her warding runes painted across her body. The Warleader watched her but said nothing. Few were the people that would stop somebody from checking their own runes.

It was vital to their safety.

When she was done, Elaise breathed a sigh of relief. Her wards were not breached.

But that confirmation only made her thoughts more troubled. Because if her wards were not befouled, then that would mean that her feelings were her own.

And if that was the case… then she truly did care for those people.

Few things scared her more than that realization. She would sooner walk straight into a nest of shadesblight or a charnel of trolls than freely admit those feelings.

She should take the easy path offered to her. It would be the smart thing to do. The right thing by herself and her tribe. If she persisted in her role… if she allowed herself to stay, there was no telling how far she might fall.

But they had opened their hearth and home to her. They had broken bread with her and thought nothing of sharing their own food. The horned one even brought food out to her, no matter how many times she denied the offer!

Defeated, Elaise could not stand against the emotions raging within her. Though she kept them from her face, she could not deny them entry into her heart.

Without the Ebon Star’s aid, these people she had come to care for were nothing more than corpses.

“You are resolute?” Elaise asked the Warleader. When Aleya gave her a questioning look, she added, “You will not send aid to this group, no matter the cost to our ancestral homeland?”

The look Aleya gave her was heavy-hearted. And for the first time since they were both little girls, Aleya dropped her eyes in shame. “I cannot.”

It was as the scout feared. “Then I will not abandon them.”

And even though Elaise was the one to say the words, she could not help but be shocked by them all the same. She, more than anyone in the Ebon Star Tribe, hated outsiders.

“Then go with my blessing,” Aleya said with a soft, comforting smile. “And if you happen to find aid to the east with a few bands of scouts that have been placed there on a long mission and know nothing of these developments or the Tribe’s feelings….” She shrugged.

Elaise’s grin tugged at her lips as she caught on. “Who among us would not join in battle against the shadesblight wherever they appeared. Surely we could not be blamed for breaking the Horgrettr if a disconnected force of tribesmen engaged with such evil.”

“As you say,” Aleya confirmed. “I for one, have had no contact with them for over a moon. Perhaps they have gone from the area. Perhaps not. I know not. Come, Elaise. Let us part not as tribesmen, but as sisters.”

In a rare display of open affection, Aleya opened her arms. Without conscious thought, Elaise ran to her big sister and buried her in a hug. Her station and the weight of leadership weighed heavily on Aleya but Elaise knew their bond would bear the burden.

“Are you truly sure this is the course you wish to take?” Aleya asked, her face pressed against the top of Elaise’s coppery red hair.

Without formality, without pretense or the veil of propriety, Elaise knew her words were heart-guarded. Aleya would speak of them to no one.

“They are good people, sister,” Elaise said. “Kind, caring, and true. I have persisted in trying to prise cracks where there should be and my fingers cannot find purchase. They are not perfect. But their hearts are strong. To see them destroyed by the shadesblight would be a tragedy not unlike the Drowning.”

“Then do all you can to protect and aid them,” Aleya replied into Elaise’s hair. “Guard them as you would guard your own. There is a change in the air. The Horgrettr will not hold sway for much longer. But we cannot be the ones to break it.”

“I will see it done,” Elaise said.

The sisters lingered for a moment longer, a rare respite in both of their duty-filled lives. Sooner than either would like, they broke apart. Without another word Aleya disappeared into a swirl of blue fog.

Elaise took a deep breath to steady herself. She could scarcely believe what she just got herself into. But she had spoken truly and from the heart, for what good that did.

Aleya was clearly of the same mind. Whatever it was she saw within Hal and his group, Elaise was beginning to make out the rough sketches of.

Tied by tradition and the Horgrettr, Aleya could not directly offer them aid. Though now that Elaise saw the task before her, she wished it would be so easy.

Finding a group of scouts that had been out for a moon already was not going to be easy. If they were not already headed back to the tribal lands. What she needed, was another pair of eyes.

As if her ancestors heard her plea, there came a rustling in the underbrush the way she had come. Readying herself, she drew out [Angurvadal]. Runes pulsed to life across the flat of the ancient blade.

But her wariness was unwarranted. Her heart stopped in her mighty breast at the sight before her. A pobul crawled through the underbrush, her nose pressed to the ground. Obviously, she had followed her, but why… and what was she wearing?

She didn’t look up until she was halfway to Elaise, who hastily put her [Angurvadal] away. Komachi looked up suddenly as if expecting to find more than just Elaise there.

Had the precocious miracle come a few minutes earlier, she would have seen a clandestine meeting that nobody was supposed to know about. The pobul scented the air, looked around suspiciously, and twitched her whiskers about.

On her head was a thin gold chain upon which a peculiar red gem was attached. The gem rested on Komachi’s forehead much like the kesiera of old. The sight of it stole her breath away.

It was a common sight on mages and those of particular power or nobility. To see it again in anything but an ancient painting was as much of a surprise as finding out that Elaise had been followed.

“Komachi, where did you run off to?” Elora called from deeper in the forest.

The pobul ambled up to Elaise, the green grass brushing against her furry underbelly. “Komachi!” she squealed with delight, though Elaise knew it was more for Elora than herself.

Despite that, she couldn’t help but kneel down to receive the pobul. She pet her and lifted her into her arms, mindful not to disturb the kesiera on her brow.

The pobul smiled up at Elaise, and pet her arm as if to reassure her. “We found you! You’re not lost anymore.”

Those words washed over Elaise and nearly broke her practiced façade of strength. They made her soul weep. Did the insightful pobul understand the depths of her own insight?

When Elora came through the brush, wearing a matching kesiera, Elaise couldn’t help but grin at the humor of her ancestors. They had delivered to her that of which she asked. This woman who held the love of a pobul above all others.

Yes, she would take this one and find the Ebon Star scouts.

85

Hal woke up several hours later, by far the longest sleep he had in a long while. When he woke up he found the wagon was already empty except for Noth, fast asleep in her bunk.

Vorax was nestled underneath Hal’s bunk, but the koblins were nowhere to be seen. With a shrug, Hal got up and was going to make something to eat. To his surprise, somebody had already taken care of that.

There was a pair of plates covered in a stonework lid with a note attached. Reading it, Hal couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t Ashera, as he expected, but Elora that had arranged the food and the letter.

In it, she explained that she would be out for the day scouting with Komachi. And that she found a means to keep everybody warm temporarily. Next to the two plates was a small pile of golden chains.

Before he sat down to eat, Hal decided to pick up the chain and try to put it on as the letter described. Elora had found one of the dwarves using a fire-imbued chunk of [Shardite] to heat his wagon.

After a few hours of work, Elora was able to get a working prototype for individuals to wear. Using Ashera’s [Fragment of Flame], Elora was able to imbue small chips of [Shardite] with what essentially amounted to a heat enchantment.

Just enough to keep a person wearing one warm.

There were a few caveats, however. First, she didn’t know how long the [Shardite] would retain the heat. And secondly, if it got too cold outside they might not work as well.

They were newly made after all and a lot of testing would need to go into them before they understood their limitations.

Elora already had a few dwarves hard at work producing them. They came on a fine chain that had to be worn like a circlet with the piece of shardite coming to rest on the brow.

For some reason, it simply worked better that way and Elora didn’t bother to test it further.

Hal slipped his on and found it odd to begin with but as soon as the warming enchantment flooded into him, he was beyond such petty concerns. The warmth it provided was beyond anything he ever felt before.

This wasn’t just Insulation, it was a countering heat that seeped into his bones as if he was standing in the warming rays on a late spring afternoon. Not quite hot, but pleasantly toasty.

Beneath the stone lid covering one of the plates, Hal found a plate of hot food waiting for him. Crispy bacon, eggs, sausage, and a biscuit. Naturally, he devoured it in short order. The buff it provided wasn’t anything to write home about, but it did increase his MP and SP regeneration rate by 10%.

Considering he was going to be spending the day working out a method to make bone bricks or something similar to them, he would need all the MP he could get his hands on.

Seeing Noth bundled up in her bunk, Hal felt he should do something nice for her. So, taking the chain left for Noth, he gingerly set it upon her head and adjusted the heated piece of [Shardite] so it rested on her brow.

Flipping Elora’s note over, Hal found a fountain pen and wrote a quick note to Noth explaining where he was and for her to join him whenever she got up and around.

Rested, fed, and warm, Hal promptly left the wagon.

He took a detour over to the Town Hall, checking on the progress. Since it was only started last night, it hadn’t progressed very far. Unfortunately, he discovered that his Tactician skill didn’t retroactively affect his buildings.

Which meant he needed to go pay a visit to the walls being built first and foremost to make sure the reduction to CP cost was applied as well as the improvement to the building parameters.

At Tactician Level 1, it wasn’t much of a reduction. For the Earthen Bulwarks they were making, that amounted to a grand total of 1.5 CP less off their substantial 300 CP cost.

Of course, they had to build 25 such bulwarks. And even 1.5 CP - small though it was - added up over time. Provided his skill didn’t improve at all from all this planning, Hal would save 37.5 CP worth of work.

Still small, yes, but noticeable in the grand scheme of things. That was 37.5 more CP that could be dedicated to a home being built.

And the more he used it, the more it would increase. Unfortunately, Tactician was considered a Crafting Skill. Which meant he couldn’t dump sparks into it to improve it.

He needed to use it and work at it the old-fashioned way. On his way to the walls, he came across Luda who was talking to a group of koblins. So that’s where they went.

Seeing him, the sprightly young girl waved him down. With the koblins in tow, she rushed to join him. “Good morning, Hal!”

She seemed uncharacteristically happy. “Morning, Luda. What can I help you with?”

“Oh, but it’s you that I have come to help. But first I just… I wanted to thank you again for agreeing to grant me shelter. I know you must have a million things to do… but I needed you to know I was grateful. That all of the people you helped are beyond thankful.

“As I mentioned when we first met, most of the people who have chosen to follow me are artisans and crafters by trade. They are more than willing to lead and help where they might. If only you would direct them, or if you are busy you can tell me and I will make sure your orders are relayed faithfully.”

“That would be incredibly helpful, thank you. Why do I feel like that isn’t the real reason you came over?” Hal asked. Today was technically the first day of their Settlement and he hadn’t expected Luda would be so eager to help after such a long and trying journey.

They had arrived last night and Hal had been busy building and talking to a dragon all night. Today was the day he meant to assign people to their roles and get everything moving at full steam.

“I have… recently come into a new power of the Oracle and I would like to use it for the good of the Settlement,” she said.

“Pretty lady will helping-hand Havior, yes?” called out one of the koblins.

She turned to smile at them over her shoulder. “I will do my best.” Luda turned back to Hal, her ruby-red curls bouncing with the motion. “If he will have me.”

“I confess, I don’t truly understand what Oracle does,” he said. “I thought it was more of a religious thing to be honest. If you’re not opposed to following me to the building site of the wall I’d like to hear what you have planned.”

“That is very fair,” Luda said. She was bundled up in a thick coat and wide-brimmed hat that resembled a witch’s hat if it was white and festooned with gems and charms. “An Oracle… by themselves is quite weak. We are not a Class meant for battle. Instead, our aim lies in helping others. We can significantly improve the wellbeing of others.

“And… we can make people look at the hardships of their lives and face truths they would not otherwise be able to face. That is… one of the reasons the Founder - Rinbast, I mean - does not condone Oracles.

“We are a threat to manipulation and… if that was something you wished to employ I thought it best to talk to you first-”

“No,” Hal said sharply. When he saw how Luda reacted to his comment he softened his tone and his gaze, giving her a comforting smile. “I do not want to use manipulation or lies to get my way, Luda. This is meant to be a fresh start for all of us, a place where everybody is welcome provided they are willing to share and be part of something more.

“I do not want to resort to….” Hal motioned vaguely. “That is not who I am. If you have a method that resists manipulation to the masses, by all means, use it with impunity.”

Luda let out a sigh of relief. “That is good. I… I did not mean to offend you, Hal.”

“I know, Luda. It’s not what you said, but your willingness to do it that bothered me most. I do not want to put you - or anyone - into the position that they felt they had to bend their morals to suit me.”

“Psshkoh, Havior has unbendy faith-true in peoples!” cried Buffrix.

Hal shook his head. “If I can’t trust people to at least try to do the right thing without me telling them what that is every step of the way… what use is all of this? My goal is not to make everybody love me and fawn all over me. This Settlement is not about me.”

“Is it not?” Luda asked, confused.

“No, Luda. It isn’t. This is for you. For the koblins. For those who live out in the wilds braving the marauding bandits and monsters instead of bending knee to Rinbast and his tyranny. This is a home for all those who no longer feel like they have one.”

“And do you not wish to lead this burgeoning Settlement?” Luda asked.

Hal barked a laugh. “If you see anybody else who wants the job and is willing to safeguard this place then by all means let me know.” He looked at her with a grin. “How about you, do you want to lead these people? Tell them who goes where, what project gets built at the cost of another? Order tired, worn-out friends and family that they need to work all day long or else we’ll all die?”

Luda blanched at it, what little color she had on her rosy cheeks disappeared. “Gods no, that sounds horrible.”

“Exactly.”

86

Hal tried to wave the discussion away. “I got off topic there, sorry. Tell me about your powers. You mentioned you could help me, and I didn’t miss that when I used Manashield you were able to improve its characteristics. Can you do that with other things? Is that what this is about?”

Luda bit her lip and looked around the valley. In the cold late morning light, it seemed pure and beautiful. More like a painting than something real.

It was still hard to think of it as his home. It won’t be if we don’t get these walls up, he reminded himself.

“To an effect, yes, but as I understand it the Manatree takes care of that mostly, yes?” she asked.

“It does, though I can’t say how strong it is,” Hal answered, hopping over a pile of discarded timber. It seemed the dwarves, in their haste to procure building materials had started to cut down nearby trees instead of waiting for a Lumberjack’s Hut to get put up.

“My main… strength, I suppose you could call it,” Luda said, scurrying around the debris and rejoining him. “Is that I can amplify the powers of another. I thought that… as the leader, you might have something I could help with.”

As she spoke, Luda’s face fell and she clapped both hands over her mouth before Hal could even reply. “Oh no. I am so sorry! I thought I was being helpful but I just realized I was being so horrendously presumptuous. Oh my Gods. I-did-not-mean-to-imply-of-course-I-didn’t-”

Luda rambled on for a few seconds more, her words spilling out so fast over one another that Hal thought she might pass out from lack of oxygen. “Calm down, Luda,” he said placing a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You wanted to help.”

She nodded sheepishly.

“It just so happens, that I do have a project you could help me on. Though it remains to be seen whether or not I’ll actually be able to make anything of it. However, I will share it with you once we’re done here and if you find something you can do to help me, go for it.”

“I will do my best,” Luda said, her cheeks flushed bright red. “Y-you asked me what I could do with my powers as an Oracle.”

“I did,” Hal said, nodding. “What about it?”

“As I said, my main effect as an Oracle is to empower people, to throw off their own shackles or those placed upon them… and forgive me for saying so but I have noticed you are perhaps the most heavily shackled among all of us.”

Hal nearly missed a step. He pulled up short. And Luda, who was busy fidgeting and staring at her feet took a few extra steps before she realized Hal had stopped walking.

“What do you mean?” Hal asked slowly.

Like a deer in the headlight’s, Luda’s bright crystalline eyes went wide and she froze. “Only that… I can see quite a lot.” She pointed to the three crystalline diamonds embedded in her forehead. “I know a measure of your pain and I… might be able to help you to come to a place of cooperation instead of conflict.”

“You think that somehow you can make Besal… behave? Or what, that we’ll be friends somehow?” he asked, incredulous.

“Only that… the chains you bind yourself in are doing more harm than good. I realize I do not know the whole story and your friends are guarded with your secrets. Truly I only wish to help, Hal.” She shrunk away from him and only then did Hal realize he was moving toward her.

He took a deep, steadying breath and blew it out in a white stream in the cold air. Air that he didn’t realize was quite so cold with the gift from Elora on his head. “It is a touchy subject, Luda. And perhaps something best for another time when we aren’t worrying about securing a food supply or whether or not we’ll have walls in place to fend off whatever is coming.”

Hal started walking again toward the valley’s entrance where the dwarves were already hard at work. Had they even slept?

“For now let’s shelve that discussion, huh?” Hal said to Luda. Poking the Beast at this juncture seemed foolish at best. As the dragon had put it, anything else would be a distraction. He needed to bend all his resources toward safeguarding his Settlement.

If they could only gain a foothold, something to cling onto amid all the fighting then he was sure they would be okay. No matter how many monsters came at them, if they could just gain that initial foothold they would survive.

All of his efforts needed to be for that singular goal. Everything else was secondary. Even his own wellbeing.

“As you wish, Hal,” Luda said with a bow of her head. “The… disciples that follow me, they have very high CP rates. Though not all in Construction as we would need, but I know of at least three who could come assist the walls being built. If you wished it.”

Hal looked from the distant dwarves back to Luda. “How many are skilled in Construction?” he asked.

“Well, there is Horald who you have met. He is a very skilled Master Chef. But I am afraid not terribly knowledgeable about Construction. However, I do feel that if you were to allow him to oversee meals he could make improvements.”

“Improvements, how?” Hal asked.

Luda bit her lip and looked to the side. “I mean no offense to the current cooks. I know Ashera means well and is talented in her own way but Horald is….”

Hal rolled his wrist, motioning for her to keep going. “You will not offend me by saying your people are good at what they do, Luda. This is supposed to be a safe place for you to feel free and pursue what you want so long as it does not harm another person. Please, be open and honest with me.”

Steeling herself with a gulp of cold morning air, Luda nodded and said, “Very well. It’s just….” She glanced at the koblins, who pointedly ignored her glance. “I have heard you befriended a dragon. And… well, forgive me if I am a little intimidated by that. But is it true? Is there really a dragon in this area and you-”

With a chuckle, Hal reached out and patted Luda on the shoulder. “That traveled fast, didn’t it? That was hardly more than a few hours ago.” He glanced back at the koblins, who also pointedly ignored him. They began to whistle off-tune - a very difficult feat considering their masks - and kick at random grassy bits.

Turning back to Luda he said, “It’s true. His name is Orrittam and he seems quite friendly. I don’t know if I befriended him necessarily as the other way around seems much more likely. But he has offered what aid he can to us. He actually has a lot of books and quite a few crafting stations up in the mountain.

“If you would like to go, or perhaps send one of your disciples, I am sure we could arrange for it. But you were saying about Horald? If I were to appoint him in charge of our meals, what would that do?”

“Not only would they likely be more enjoyable with stronger effects for those eating them but he could likely find a way to cut down on waste,” she said, her eyes roaming the mountain to the north as if she could catch a glimpse of the mighty dragon.

She cleared her throat and added, “He was not sure of the specifics without seeing the setup, but if we could have a single centralized place to cook and deliver the food we could cut down on the amount of time we spend in the morning.

“But with staff working under him, Horald believed he could not only dramatically increase the Cooking skill of those who wanted it, but also reduce the amount of raw food required by a quarter.”

Right now they were consuming roughly 20% more than usual in a manner of speaking. Owing to the Outpost Settlement type, they had a 10% increase to consumption and a 10% decrease to production.

So while they pulled from their dwindling stores, they would only take a 10% penalty but as they continued to forage and find food in the wild it would essentially become a 20% penalty.

If Horald could do what Luda said, he would turn that into a faint 5% bonus. At their current rate of 33u of food per day, they were now sitting at 329. About 9 days left. Enough that they didn’t need to worry about food until after the Guild Mission.

But if Horald could reduce that consumption by 25% they would be down to about 25u per day. Giving them four more days of food. “I’ll talk to Ashera, have Horald talk to her okay? Ashera will make sure he has everything that he needs to get going by tomorrow morning.

“Now tell me about the rest of these people. What skills do they have? You said a few are skilled with Construction, just how many?”

87

“Gregor, is the most skilled with Construction. I do not know his past but I believe he used to be quite good at it. Then there are his sons, Milas and Silas. They followed largely in their father’s footsteps and are both skilled with Construction. But each truly has a passion for their respective crafts of Alchemy and Weaving.

“They are… kind souls but they seek their father’s approval above all. And as their father was an architect of some renown, they put their passions aside in order to get noticed.” Luda bit her lip and glanced over to the row upon row of dwarves all passing materials back and forth, getting [Iron Pickaxes] to the right people and [Iron Shovels] in the hands of those digging.

“What is it Luda?” Hal asked, his eyes likewise glued on the dwarves.

They were the very image of efficiency and teamwork. Not a single burly man or woman running about without a purpose. Like a well-oiled machine, they passed materials around so fast and smoothly that it was entrancing.

It was almost like a conveyor belt. Everything went to where it needed to go despite the number of hands it passed through.

As Hal watched, he came to understand that some things were slightly off. The locations they had plotted out for the walls were less than ideal.

A black-bearded dwarf walked up to them, he wore stained overalls and mopped the sweat off his dirtied brow despite the cold. “We’re all full up, boyo,” he called to Hal. “Craftin’ Bands filled up on this end. If ye want a spot yer gonna have to scoot yerself on down to the eastern side with Band five or something around them’s parts.”

“If you would allow me,” Hal said with a smile. “I could help with the plotting of some of these constructions you’re doing. I could shave off a bit of the CP requirement at the same time.”

The dwarf gave Hal a steely gaze. “Durvin warned me about ye. Always with yer fancy tricks. Well, come on then lad! Out with it. Show me how its done, eh?”

Hal gave an apologetic shrug to Luda. The dwarf reached into one pocket, then another, and pulled out a pair of small glasses. He shoved them on and gave Hal a squinting look then one at Luda.

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure, lass,” he said, extending one dirty and calloused hand. “Name’s Athagan Ashbrow. I’m what passes fer a leader o’ all these dunderheads who think they know how to hammer a post into the ground.”

“My name is Luda,” she said taking his hand daintily and doing a little curtsy. “It is an honor to meet you Mister Ashbrow.”

“Aye, just call me Athagan. Everybody do.”

“Very well, Athagan. I have a few members of my group that are quite skilled in Construction, I was just talking about them with Hal. Do you think you could use the help?”

He spluttered and looked at Hal, then back at her. “Do I think I could use the help?! Ye can bet yer lily-white keister I could use the durned help! Send ‘em! Go on an’ get ‘em girl. We ain’t building fer fun. We got a war brewin’!”

Luda curtsied again and looked frantically at Hal.

“Find me after,” he said.

Athagan snorted like a charging bull and shook his head, muttering and grumbling, “Do I think I could use some durned help!”

She took off at a run as if Athagan was chasing her and growling like a mad dog on her heels. Hal shook his head. “You didn’t need to be so hard with her Athagan.”

The dwarf gave a deep belly laugh and wiped a tear from his eye. “Oh, but look at how the sweet girl runs! Got a fire in her, ye just gotta know how to stoke it! She wants to help Hal, any durned fool could see it.”

“Fair enough,” Hal said, conceding the point. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the koblins were torn between following Luda or following Hal.

Once again Athagan made up their mind for them. “Ye lot,” he said pointing at the koblins. A few of them questioningly pointed a mitten at their chest. “Yeah, ye! Go on over to the east side o’ the valley entry. Talk to Gragon Copperpots. He’ll assign ye a Craftin’ or Gatherin’ Band based on yer skills and what ye want to do.” Athagan put his hands on his hips and leaned menacingly forward. “And doin’ nothing don’t count!”

The koblins ran in full flight. They bumped into each other and fell down like some sort of cartoon until Hal got in there and righted them. Pointing them toward the east.

“Mornhammer guide the poor sod that has to direct them koblins,” Athagan said with a shake of his head. “But, enough o’ that. I got yer undivided attention now lad, and I mean to have ye make good on yer word. Show me how ye want all this set up!”

Hal nodded and Athagan followed him to the west where the sheer wall of white stone was butted up against their first construction area. Really, it was small things. Little improvements to the way they were building or bracing the construction that he saw was wrong.

As he began to point them out, more jumped out at him. By the time he had improved three construction sites, his Tactician had risen to Level 4. Just as he was finishing with his fourth site he was joined by Noth.

Luda came by shortly to deliver the three men she spoke of, the father and two sons. The three of them were more than a little starstruck upon seeing Hal, earning him another Leadership Level when he greeted them by name and asked if they wouldn’t mind lending the dwarves their expertise.

Their father, Gregor, more than happily accepted and so the two sons fell over each other trying to accept first before the other could. Gregor shared a look with Hal that said, “what can you do?” and shook his head as he went off to the eastern side of the entrance to help the dwarves there.

Just as Noth arrived, Hal got another prompt.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 28(33).

+1% Party damage (+33%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+66%).

Your Tactician has risen to Level 5.

+1% Planning efficacy (+5%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+5%).

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics (-2.5%).

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters (+2.5%).

You have 1 Tactician Perk point awaiting assignment.

Drawing Board 0/5

By taking a Building Schematic and studying it, you are able to improve upon its design. The length of time taken to make improvements is based upon the difference in your Tactician Level and the Item Level of the Building Schematic. You can improve a Building Schematic a number of times equal to the Level of Drawing Board.

Lv.1: +3% Building Schematic Parameters | -3% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.2: +6% Building Schematic Parameters | -6% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.3: +10% Building Schematic Parameters | -10% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.4: +15% Building Schematic Parameters | -15% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.5: +20% Building Schematic Parameters | -20% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Cruel Machinations 0/5

Trapmaking is a curious art, one which its creator rarely sees the fruits of their labor. By making modifications to the designs of traps you create or oversee, you increase the Critical Hit chance of each trap. Additionally, you gain a portion of the EXP that would have been gained if you slew the creature yourself.

Lv.1: +5% Critical Hit chance | 10% EXP gained.

Lv.2: +10% Critical Hit chance | 15% EXP gained.

Lv.3: +15% Critical Hit chance | 20% EXP gained.

Lv.4: +20% Critical Hit chance | 25% EXP gained.

Lv.5: +30% Critical Hit chance | 30% EXP gained.

While Drawing Board looks good, I don’t really have the time to spend poring over Building Schematics. And with the upcoming assault, there could be a lot of monsters killed with traps. Especially if I oversee their placement.

Getting “free” EXP was never a bad thing in Hal’s eyes, so he picked up Cruel Machinations.

With each Level of Tactician the buildings would be faster to get up and have improved stats as well. Now he could take off 7.5 CP from each of the Earthen Bulwarks. Not counting the five he already oversaw, that left 20 more to help set up.

In doing so he would save a whopping 150 CP worth of work. Half of a full Earth Bulwark. And with the Founder’s Day buff going on, he was likely to get at least a few more Levels out of Tactician.

“Everything okay here?” Noth asked him. “I thought you would be trying to make bricks. What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to put my Tactician skill to as much use as possible while we have the Founder’s Day effect ongoing,” Hal said. “Already have it to Level five and with twenty more sites to visit I’m hoping to get it to ten.

“Making the bricks might be useful but if I can cut down on the CP cost of every building, we could direct our construction efforts a lot more efficiently and in doing so actually have defenses in place by the time the Guild Mission timer counts down.”

“That is something I wanted to speak to you about, Hal,” Luda said.

Noth looked over at her, and Hal motioned for her to speak up.

She shifted on the spot, suddenly under the scrutinizing gaze of several people. Athagan cleared his throat when she didn’t speak up immediately. “Ain’t getting’ any younger lass.”

“My powers as an Oracle… we’ve discussed it a bit already but what I did with the Manashield? I can do that with various status effects as well. And… depending on what you plan to do with those bricks Noth was talking about, I may be able to help you with them. If not… I believe if I focused my efforts I could double if not triple the length of the Founder’s Day effect.”

“But?” Hal asked. “There is always a but to something that good.”

“But it would utterly consume my concentration for the number of days the effect is ongoing,” Luda said. “The sooner I start, the greater the difference I can make. I… I do not know if it will work but perhaps if you were to introduce me to the Manatree it might be receptive to my aid.”

“And the only cost is that you will be indisposed while the rest of us get a huge boost to skill, experience, and a massive morale boost instead of an impending loss a few days before the attack?” Noth asked. She turned to Hal. “Hal, this is wonderful. Even if you could churn out bricks with Luda’s help, nothing will match extending the Founder’s Day effects even a single day.”

“You’re right,” Hal agreed. Without that sudden 50% penalty to Morale and the subsequent cliff drop in CP and GP for crafting and gathering, things would be different. “This changes everything. Athagan, I’ll be back shortly.”

Motioning to Luda and Noth to follow him, Hal took off at a brisk pace to the Manaseed. Things were finally starting to look up.

88

“How long do you think you can extend it?” Hal asked, stepping over a root.

Luda shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Truly, I have no idea. It depends on the magic and its strength, relative to mine I think.”

“It would be difficult to understate the effect of a single extra day,” Hal said as they went through a small copse of trees. The land sloped upward and in the sheltering boughs of the trees, it was even colder without the warmth of the sun on their skin.

He was aware of the drop in temperature but it still didn’t bother him as he knew it should. “I have got to find the person Elora tasked with making more. These things are amazing,” Hal said, fiddling with the warm shard that dangled on a fine chain and came to rest above his brow.

“They are very regal,” Luda said with a smile.

Noth colored and looked away.

“Thank you,” Hal said, as they climbed higher into the sloping forest.

He was about to say something else when they emerged from the forest and his breath was stolen away. It was only recently that he planted his items and already the effect was surprising.

Before them stood two half-formed Wortlings. Stranger still than their quick growth was their coloration. No longer black, they were clad in beautiful white bark that practically shone with inner light.

They still looked fairly ugly though, something he doubted would be remedied by being fully formed. He suddenly had a pang of loss for Stumpy. As irrational as it was, he had come to like the creature.

Of course, such a thing was impossible to reciprocate. It was like loving a toaster or some other inanimate object. And yet, he couldn’t help himself.

The [Treant Seeds] he planted were already waist-high saplings, covered in the silvery-white bark. The [Treant Cutting] on the other hand was the size of a small apple tree with silvery-veined leaves of jade.

As if emboldened by the growth around it, the Manaseed was only trumped in height by the [Treant Cutting]. But it now stood as tall as Hal’s shoulders and the man found an overwhelming sense of peace and love flow outward like a wind of emotion.

It nearly knocked him over. “It is… beautiful,” Luda said, taking a step forward. “Do you hear it?” she asked, turning to Hal.

“It’s… singing,” Noth said, her golden eyes suddenly misted with emotion. “Gods above, I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.”

Is that what it was doing? Hal took a step forward, then another. The waves of emotion assaulted him. Silvery motes of mana danced in the air. He couldn’t hear the song but that didn’t matter.

Because he could feel it. The unyielding love of a child to a parent flooded the glade where the Manaseed had been planted. It recognized Hal immediately and called to him in its wordless voice and Hal did everything he could to respond in kind.

His breast swelled with pride as he saw the progress of the Manaseed after so short a time. His unasked question was answered by a swirl of silvery motes streaking around Luda.

The girl giggled and gently reached out to touch one. It alighted on her fingertip and was absorbed into her. Luda’s crystalline-blue eyes went wide.

“Do you both feel that too?” Hal asked, when he managed to speak around the lump in his throat.

Noth placed a hand on Hal’s back. “I hear it… and it is so glorious that I wished we could sleep beside it.”

Hal didn’t know what inspired him to speak out against the idea but he shook his head and knew his words were true even if he didn’t know why. “It is an infant yet, it needs space to grow and thrive. I would not risk it being influenced unduly.”

At that moment he realized how gravely he had erred in leaving the Manatree unprotected. Not that he distrusted his Guild, but this was different. A person that managed to tap into the Manaseed would be able to hold great influence over it.

Already Hal could feel the Manaseed latching onto… something within each of the three people in its glade. If they lingered too long, it would affect the Manaseed. Whether they willed it or no.

“It needs to be protected,” Hal muttered, but it was loud enough for Noth who nodded at his side.

“Can’t you tell the Manatree not to allow others?” she asked.

“It can’t, not yet.”

“Can we really spare anybody?” Luda asked, coming back from her trance.

Hal knew that they couldn’t. But he knew of a way to keep an eye on the glade without having to take valuable workers from their tasks.

It wouldn’t matter if the glade was secured if the entire valley was overrun and so he knew he would need to pay the keinse a visit with specific instructions.

They could roost in the branches of the nearby trees, they wouldn’t like it, but Orrittam would smooth over any issues they had.

It was the best he could do given the limitations placed on him. The keinse would be his eyes and ears to make sure that the glade stayed pure and without corrupting influence.

He looked at the various creatures he planted and wondered if he was premature in the decision. Seeing their white and silvery bark, he didn’t think so. The Manaseed was affecting them, not the other way around.

“Noth, we need to find any valuable seeds we have, fruiting trees and the sort if there are any and plant them here. I am almost certain the Manaseed quickens when there is nascent life nearby. Almost as if growing more life makes itself grow faster.”

Taking a look at the Manaseed’s stats, he confirmed that it was growing at a prodigious pace. Whether it was because he tied it to the Settlement and the Settlement was having a boom of crafting and gathering or something else, the Manaseed was nearly Level 3 already.

Manatree Type: Manaseed

Guardian: Hal Williams

Level: 2

Experience Points: 2,400/2,650

HP: 700/700

It had gained nearly 1,000 EXP overnight.

“I can get on that now if you think you’ll be here still?” she said.

Hal’s answering nod was all she needed and the erstwhile Reaper disappeared back into the forest. Luda stepped up alongside him. “You have done something truly wonderful here, you do know that don’t you?”

He couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m beginning to understand,” Hal agreed.

“Let us retreat into the surrounding wood,” Luda said. “I can work my magic from afar now that the Manaseed has blessed me with its touch. So long as I’m within its range of influence, all will be well.”

“You go, I will be just a moment.”

With a demure bow, Luda took off back into the woods behind.

The glade was warmer than everywhere else as if the cold threatening chill of winter didn’t touch this place. He knew without a doubt that it was the Manaseed’s influence. This place would be evergreen and flooded with life for so long as the Manaseed desired it.

Hal could change that. If he wanted to, the land could become autumnal or wintry and sleepy. Here, the very elements could bend to his will and through the Manaseed all things would-

Shaking his head, Hal put a stop to the errant thoughts. He loved the Manaseed and knew its heart as it knew his. His soul was joined with a Manaseed and though no Manatree would ever harm Hal, he vowed to return the favor.

He would not wield the Manaseed for his own means. He dared to envision a world blanketed by the protective guardians. Where no Manastorms threatened the world and the colossal sentient trees could watch over all peoples and provide safety to all.

Of course, that was an incredibly lofty goal. One that Hal couldn’t even begin to work toward while his Settlement was threatened. Orrittam was right, he had to focus on the immediate threat first.

Gain a foothold and hold on with everything he had. But first, he had to attain it. And it was not going to be easily won.

The closer Hal got to the Manaseed the stronger its sensations were. He finally reached the thing and knelt in front of it, placing a hand on the smooth silver-streaked pale bark. It felt like polished stone and held a faint heat just like any other living creature.

He was happy here and he knew the Manaseed was happy for his company. It, however, was not an ordinary child. It did not need Hal’s guidance, though it would surely delight in taking it.

There was something deeper that guided the Manatrees of the world. Something that connected them all to a common purpose. Something that, as a human, Hal wasn’t sure he could ever fully comprehend.

Into the Manaseed he sent his love and his pride. He wanted it to know, without any doubt, that he loved it and would protect it until the very last flicker of life faded from his soul.

The Manaseed responded in turn, promising it would always safeguard his soul. It would pluck him from the soulstream and bring him back for as many times as he wished it.

For the Manaseed would see no lasting harm came to its most beloved father.

89

Luda smiled at Hal by way of greeting and together they returned to the caravan. There was no need for Luda to work her magic out in the cold. The least he could do was make sure that the girl was safe and comfortable as possible.

“Thank you, Hal,” she said after some time of walking alone in silence. When Hal turned a questioning look her way, she elaborated, “For allowing me to join you in such a momentous undertaking. Carving out a life in the wild untamed lands of the Shiverglades?”

She gave a delicate laugh at that. “I have seen more of the world than I could ever dream of. I wanted you to know how much I treasure what you have done. You could have turned us away. We were, after all, useless to you while traveling and even now… compared to the sturdy dwarves who can both craft and wage battle? I fear we are not doing enough to hold our own.”

“Nonsense,” Hal said with a dismissive gesture. “You and your people are family. We all struggle for the same home, for the same ends. Don’t get bogged down in the details of who contributes more. While your people may not be warriors, while the others are defending our home your people can still be building and repairing.”

“I will see that all hands are given over to the task,” Luda promised. “We will have a home here.”

As they came upon the circled wagons, Hal noticed the absence of the various karaks that were usually milling about.

The pair made for Hal’s wagon, and as Hal had hoped, they saw Noth across the way just as she finished talking to one of the dwarves with his beard tied into complex interwoven patterns.

Luda stepped up into the wagon and turned to face Hal. “I will require your assistance when I start,” she explained, bright spots of color crept up her cheeks. “I… do not wish to be forward.”

She glanced fearfully across the camp at Noth and dropped her voice as if the woman could somehow hear her across the fifty-foot divide. “But I will require you hold my… hands as we undertake the linking. The Manaseed did bless me with its approval but your tie is infinitely stronger. If I am able to tap into and maintain even a fraction of the connection, I am sure I can help.”

It was hard not to laugh. Luda was so very concerned. Hal shook his head and tried to paint on a calm accepting smile. “Don’t worry, Luda. I am not stranger to how magic works, please don’t trouble yourself. I’ll have a word with Noth and be in there shortly.”

The girl was all too happy to oblige and she shut the door to the wagon behind her while Hal strode across the grassy expanse. Despite all the recent abuse, the grass was sturdy and strong showing no signs of dying. It was cold enough out that the grass should have been sere and brown.

And with all the recent activity in the camp - or rather outpost as it technically was considered - the grass should have been replaced quickly by packed dirt or churned up mud.

Noth finished speaking to the dwarf and was handed a satchel. She thanked him and he walked away as Noth turned to join Hal. “Excellent timing,” she said, holding up the burlap satchel. “There are quite a few seeds here. Are you busy? You could plant them now if you want. Several fruiting trees and rare stock the Boulderguts had planned to sell but decided to hold onto considering your aims.”

“I need to help Luda with her thing first, why don’t you go plant the seeds? I’m sure by the time you’re done I will be too.”

Noth looked taken aback at that. She swallowed hard and looked at the bag of seeds in her hand. “You would trust me with that?”

Not wanting to downplay the matter, but unable to resist, Hal shook his head sadly and began to - ever-so-slowly - reach for the sack of seeds. “I mean, if you don’t want to I could always do it.”

In the flash, Noth pulled the seeds back, her eyes wide. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure it gets done!”

Chuckling, Hal shook his head. “You know I trust you, Noth. And you know that the Manaseed trusts you. There is nobody else I would entrust to the task, mundane as it may seem. This could provide a stable food supply. We have no idea what will happen.”

With one look at the wagon, Noth pocketed the bag of seeds with a nod. “Still, it means a lot that you feel comfortable with my presence near the Manaseed. Considering your earlier reservations.”

Hal waved her concerns away. “I am sure you will not linger overlong.”

“Of course not! I would never wish to harm the Manaseed.”

“Exactly my point,” Hal said with a smirk. “The sooner you plant those seeds and I help Luda, the sooner we can get back to truly important tasks.”

“Such as?”

Rolling his eyes, Hal said, “Making bricks out of bone.”

“Absolutely riveting,” Noth replied. She turned and after a few strides looked over her shoulder. Her raven-black hair swayed out and caught on a chill breeze like an onyx banner. “I will be quick.” She smiled and hurried away.

Entering into the wagon once more, Hal found Luda had taken off her heavy coat and was wearing a flowing opaline gown that left her shoulders bare. No wonder she wore the heavy coat. She would be frozen solid outside of the warm interior of the wagon without it.

She sat near the driver’s door at the far end of the wagon upon a cushion with her back to the wall. “I am ready,” she said simply.

“What do I need to do?” Hal asked, taking a detour to check the kettle for water. He sloshed it around, felt satisfied it had enough for one or two cups, and set it to boil.

“Take a seat in front of me,” Luda said calmly, her eyes still closed. There was another cushion in front of her. “We will hold hands and I will see what can be done.”

Hal dropped into an easy sitting position in front of her and held out his hands. When Luda didn’t reach for them, he grasped hers in his. He was amazed at just how tiny and frail they seemed to him.

It felt like if he placed any pressure on them, they would snap like twigs. Luda’s face was as red as a tomato. Her hands were clammy, forcing Hal to hold them a little tighter or else they’d slip from his grasp.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. “Focus on the Manaseed, on your connection to it. I will guide and channel the flow of your mana, all I need from you is to concentrate.”

“Simple enough,” Hal said, doing just as she asked.

Her eyes shut and Luda’s tiny, frail, bird-like hands suddenly were hard as iron and just as strong. Her grip threatened to break Hal’s hands. Luda went completely rigid as Hal focused on the Manaseed. “Amazing,” she whispered. “It’s almost as if you were a Manaseed yourself. This power is… it is more than enough for my needs.”

“How long can you give us?” Hal asked, daring to hope that she could at least double the length. Six days would be incredible.

“I can nearly triple it,” she said, her voice sounded from somewhere far away. “Were that I was stronger, I could do much more with this gift. For now, eight days henceforth the buff will fade. Until then, I will see that it is maintained.”

“Do you need… somebody to watch you?” Hal asked, staring at her strained expression. She kind of looked like she had to use the bathroom and that was another concern he had. What if she needed to eat or drink.

She couldn’t very well be expected to sit there for eight more days.

Luda cracked open one eye and though her cheeks were flushed she smiled at him. “I need not stay in this pose forever,” she answered. “Only initially. Once I have a connection established it will be possible to resume non-strenuous activities. I will be useless for all other tasks save this, but I will not require a minder.”

Slowly, her grip weakened and Hal’s bruised fingers were extricated from her hands. “If you’re sure. I’ll still check in on you every now and again,” Hal said. “Barring that, I’ll make sure somebody keeps an eye on you. Don’t want you blowing up or something.”

The girl flushed even brighter somehow. “I am quite capable of taking care of myself, thank you,” she said curtly, drawing a chuckle from Hal. Only then did Luda realize he was teasing her.

She bit her lip and looked away. “You are joking.”

“Yes, Luda. I will make sure you’re okay but I trust you know the limitations of your powers better than I do.”

Hal bid her goodbye and left the wagon shortly after making two cups of tea and chatting for a while. They talked about nothing in particular but it seemed to soothe Luda. There was the faintest shimmer in the air around her, like a silvery outline he could only see if he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

One problem down, a thousand to go, he thought ruefully.

90

At first, it was quite novel making a brick of literal bone. One doesn’t normally expect to be able to make something so mundane out of such an odd material. And yet, there Hal was, making his 30th brick.

Noth, elbow on the nearby table with her cheek propped up on her hand, was watching him with the same sense of awe and interest as ever before. If Mira was here, he would have pulled her into the task as well.

Even still, no small number of dwarves were trying to get a peek at what he was doing while they went about with their tasks. Everybody - literally everybody except those assigned elsewhere - was tasked with building the massive Earthen Bulwarks.

The walls were the only way they were going to survive. They were lucky enough to have a home with plenty of room and tall, sheer cliffs all around them that kept them safe. But that 750 feet of an entrance was key to their survival.

If their enemies came inside, it would be a nightmare to fight them. They had to hold them at the gap. It was the only place their inferior numbers could work in their favor.

Hal didn’t know how many the enemy numbered, but he imagined if they were expected to survive for an entire night it wasn’t a small number. Even a hundred monsters would dramatically outnumber those that could fight with any skill.

Worse, if any got into the valley proper they might not be known about for weeks or months. There were areas that he doubted even the skilled Rangers could map and scout in under a month with any accuracy.

“Hal,” Noth said. “You’re doing it again.”

The Beastborne took a steadying breath in through his nose and out through his mouth. “Thanks, Noth.”

He had instructed her to let him know whenever he started to wander. With so much riding on so few shoulders, the stress and worry often weighed heavily on his mind. He was responsible for all of these people.

If they failed, it was because he failed them.

But ruminating and worrying over it would only make that which he feared come true. It was a distraction he could ill afford.

Luckily, the concern was painted so clearly on his face that Noth could easily notice and interrupt his spiraling thoughts.

Unlike the bone weaponry, now that he could create objects out of bone freeform, Hal didn’t need to pull the initial “blank” of bone out of his skin.

Instead, he concentrated his mana and let it flow out of his palms. As his mana filtered out, it formed into the object he desired, so long as he already copied it. The first time he did it, required an actual object.

And not just any object either. He required one of the exact size and dimensions that he wanted to create.

In this way, he could effectively copy just about anything.

The first brick, which was really a massive stone block at least three feet wide and weighed nearly 300 pounds, was slowly changed to bone as he fed his mana into it. He didn’t exactly… understand how it worked.

He only knew that it did work. And doing it the first time provided a big boost to his skill.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 10.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+11%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+12%).

+10% CP generation (+20%).

You have 1 Bonecrafting Perk awaiting assignment.

Of course, the item was destroyed in the process. It was irreversibly turned to bone and lost much - if not all - of its initial properties. So he could copy nearly anything, but that original item was lost in the process.

Useful, but he wasn’t about to go around replacing everything with bone. He could, but that was just florking silly. Mentally swiping the notification away, he continued his work.

He’d take a break soon and deal with it then.

“So you could make a pen out of bone,” Noth said. That was probably the 12th object she listed so far. “What bout a clock?” Scratch that, 13th.

“I don’t know, Noth,” Hal said, trying not to sound exasperated as he felt. It was truly a wondrous discovery that they made when trying to form a [Bone Brick].

Being able to copy something and then use it as a recipe was beyond useful. Way better than creating a hunk of bone from scratch and having to shape it by hand.

Unfortunately, this basically turned Hal into a very expensive 3-D printer. One that Noth delighted in asking what he could copy.

He doubted he could copy anything mechanical or moving. Though he wasn’t opposed to trying at a later date. Right now it was bricks he needed to make. And then more bricks.

Once he was done with that? More bricks of course!

He could have screamed.

After the third hour, Hal had made a sizeable stack - if they were still there - of [Bone Bricks] that the dwarves were ferrying away as fast as he could make them. They had moved to the gap in order to make it easier to get the bricks out to those that needed them.

They were, by all intents and purposes, vastly superior to the normal [Stone Bricks] but they needed so many that the improvement wasn’t nearly as massive as Hal had hoped.

With a roaring campfire nearby, Hal gained the benefit of Camping. It didn’t kick in when he was actively using his MP but as soon as he was done it worked to dramatically speed up his already high MP regeneration rate.

Such as right then.

Hal looked up from his work at Noth. She returned his gaze, but there was something else lingering behind her golden eyes. Something that, as soon as she realized Hal noticed it, was gone in a flash. Her expression was perfectly cordial but that hint of something more was gone.

Now’s not the time, he reminded himself.

“Tapped?” she asked.

He wasn’t, technically. Though he never managed to complete the [Shard of Density], as its completion seemed a bit beyond his skill at the moment given the properties he was trying to imbue it with, he could draw on the [Emissary] for more MP.

But he could use the break and so he nodded. It wasn’t going to be an overly long break. One of the Rangers was tasked with creating the campfires that kept the workers warm. As a result, the properties of the Camping buff were incredibly good.

You gain the effect of Camping.

+345% HP Regeneration.

+345% SP Regeneration.

+345% MP Regeneration.

+260% Healing effects.

Duration: While Camping.

At that rate, and with his current regeneration of 211.1, that gave him an eye-wateringly large regeneration rate of 781. With his total MP sitting at 1,018, that was just shy of a full recharge in an hour and change.

Enough time to stretch his legs, oversee the initial construction on a few more Earth Bulwarks and assign his perks. “Up for a walk?” Hal asked.

“Of course,” Noth said.

After a while of walking toward the east toward the staked off areas for new construction, Noth spoke up, “You know… if you want me to work on the wall or somewhere else I can do it. I don’t mind doing my part.”

“Would you like that?” Hal asked, distractedly. He still hadn’t gotten to his perks yet. There were a group of dwarves up ahead hollering and shouting at each other, gesticulating wildly - as dwarves were wont to do at the best of times - about some problem or other.

“No,” Noth said too quickly. She cleared her throat. “I mean, no. But I feel like you’re trying to spare me some hard labor. I don’t mind working but right now… you’re the one doing all the work, Hal. I feel... useless. How can I help?”

One of the dwarves raised a fist just as the other dwarf seized a fistful of the first’s shirt. “First, you can help me break up this fight,” Hal said as he broke into a run toward the dwarves.

Noth quickly outpaced him and made it to pair before anything worse could happen. By the time Hal reached them, the pair were separated. Each of the stout folk gave the lithe Noth a respectful eye. She had quickly broken up a fight that was ready to boil over and none-too-gently either.

Something the dwarves naturally appreciated. Hal could practically see when Noth got the notice of her reputation with the dwarves rising.

“What’s the problem?” Hal asked.

The first dwarf smoothed his rumpled jacket and began to speak but that motion had cost him the floor because the red-bearded dwarf spoke over him. “I thought we were gonna be makin’ a real wall. Dragged theses here logs made out for palisades. ‘parently I heard wrong ‘cause this dunderhead started hollerin’ and whoopin’ an’ all-”

“I’ll show ye hollerin’!” cried the first dwarf. Noth easily kept the pair apart.

Hal looked at him, then at the massive log for the Palisade. While a Palisade was the strongest wall the Settlement had access to, it was something they couldn’t make immediately, largely because it used so much wood. An idea came to him then and he started to smile.

91

The dwarves looked at each other, then Hal, then to Noth. “Why’s he got that face? It’s a mite unsettlin’.”

Noth looked at Hal. “What’re you planning?” she asked coyly.

“A better way to contribute instead of making bricks. But first, I need to check something. I’m going to borrow this,” Hal said as he walked over to the massive log shaped into a spike.

He straddled the thing and tapped [Emissary]. His bone and crystalline sword could hold 120 MP stored at a compression of 2:1 which could be converted to 240 MP. They were out of range of a campfire so he didn’t get the benefit of the buff but it should be enough.

Focusing, Hal raised his hands over the rough log. Palisades - to the best of his knowledge - were little more than Earthen Bulwarks Building Schematics with wooden bracing and large log-sized spikes on the front.

They had 20t of raw wood and more than that of lumber, though it was going down as they used it in the Town Hall and would in other constructions. While an Earthen Bulwark cost only 2t of wood and 1t of stone, a Palisade was 10t of wood and 3t of stone.

They were building 25 total wall sections and they simply didn’t have the wood. Hal planned on setting up a Quarry later that day as they would need more stone soon.

Undoubtedly the Palisade was the stronger fortification but to see it made they would need to take more workers off of the walls and that they couldn’t afford.

But what if he was able to make the wooden spikes, replacing them with bone? As Hal focused on the log beneath him, he finished draining [Emissary] of its stored MP.

He let his mana flow from his hands. It fell like crushed sapphire dust and coated the log, suffusing it shortly after. The rough wooden exterior turned ashen then bone-white as the process converted the massive log into a thing of bone. It took every last drop of his MP, but he managed to do it in one sitting.

Thankfully, it only cost a lot of MP to copy the item, not to reproduce it.

Bonecrafting recipe learned: Palisade Spike.

MP: 130

CP: 10

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 11.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+12.1%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+13.2%).

More MP and CP by far than the [Stone Bricks] were but this was also a massive piece.

The dwarves were staring at the log with mouths agape. “Ye turned it to bone!” cried one.

The red-bearded dwarf smacked the first one with a black beard. “He got that fancy bone-magic, remember?” The two dwarves that had been ready to lay into each other just a moment ago came forward. “Ye wouldn’t mind teachin’ a few dwarves yer craft would ye? It’s mighty impressive, lad and we dwarves have a fair love of all things created.”

The few dwarves that were nearby all looked up and a hush settled onto the general clamor of noise and work being done. Hal got the impression that the two dwarves just crossed some sort of line.

Not necessarily a bad one, but one that Hal never realized had even been there. This must have been building for a while. How come he didn’t see it sooner? Of course, the dwarves would want to learn a new crafting method!

Had they held back from asking in the hopes that he would offer, or was there some sort of taboo?

No matter. Hal shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he began, and already he could see the way their faces fell as if they dared to hope but expected the denial. It stabbed at Hal’s heart. “I should have known you would want to learn. I apologize for not offering sooner. I would be more than happy to teach anybody who wants to learn Bonecrafting.”

“Ye mean it?” the black-bearded dwarf asked.

“Absolutely,” Hal said. “Whenever you’re done working for the day come see me. I’ll be more than glad enough to teach every one of you. Just know that I might be busy and if I am….” He shrugged. “I’ll try to be as accomodating as I can.”

That seemed to have an effect on the dwarves and immediately they began discussing ways to incorporate bones into their various designs. The red-bearded dwarf came up to him. He gingerly kicked the massive spear of bone with the toe of his boot. “Ye really can make bone, eh? Dagdamora.”

“I don’t think anybody else can do it, but yes.”

“Suits me just fine,” said the dwarf with another kick at the ossified log. It still didn’t move despite the heftier kick. “Gives us a good reason to go out and kill some monsters. Make our home safer an’ profit at once. That’s what we dwarves call a good time! Bwahaha!”

Hal shook his head at the dwarf stalked off laughing all the way.

Noth looked over at him, then at the log on the ground. “What is on your mind?”

Motioning to the item, Hal laid out his plan. He had no idea if it would work, but it was worth a try.

“You do realize that a Palisade is almost half again as much CP to construct as an Earthen Bulwark, right?” Noth said as gently as possible. “I don’t mean to dampen your zeal-”

“That’s quite all right, Noth,” Hal said, cutting her off. “I hope it’ll work but I don’t expect it. That’s why I’m not going to take any dwarves off their projects to help me.”

She gave him a flat stare. “This is where I come in, isn’t it?”

“Very much so.”

Noth tried to look put out and roll her eyes, but Hal could see the smirk that played at the corners of her lips.

“Could you get that for me?” Hal asked, pointing at the [Palisade Spike].

With a casual crouch, Noth grasped the thing and hefted the near twenty-foot-long piece of bone and laid it across her shoulder. “It’s lighter than wood,” she pointed out.

“That’s what I’m hoping for,” Hal said. “Bone is quite well known for being very sturdy but also quite light. It’s an ideal building material in a lot of respects. Non-flammable, sturdy, doesn’t rot or get bothered much by water or inclement weather.”

“You almost make me want to take up Bonecrafting,” Noth said, following Hal back toward the west where they came from. Already several Earthen Bulwarks were well underway.

Hal chuckled. “It’s pretty great, actually,” he said. “I can make a lot of things that I would normally need a complex set up for. I don’t need a kiln for clay. Or a sawmill for wood. Don’t need a smelter or forge. It’s versatile while not necessarily better than any of those others, it serves well enough I think.”

“And right now,” Noth said, shifting her load a little to keep it balanced as they walked. The midday sun bore down on them but it was still cold out. Hal was morbidly curious how cold it would get when winter came on in full. Clearly, the place had earned its name. “We need whatever gets us up and going as fast as possible.”

“True enough.”

As they walked toward the west, the sound of construction washed in all over them. Dwarves were hustling about here and there. The sound of orders being shouted and dwarven voices lifted high in song eased Hal’s worries of overworking them.

He was. He knew that. They knew that, and he made sure that the dwarves understood he recognized their sacrifice.

Owing to his reputation with them and their natural dwarven desire to work hard in the face of adversity, every dwarf was able to work for 12 hours a day. A feat not usually possible.

Not only could they work 50% longer than the few others they had, but they suffered no morale penalty unless forced to do so for quite a long time.

With the Founder’s Day buff, each person not only generated more CP because of the Morale bonus but also from a direct CP boost. Together, their CP generation was almost doubled.

Having just reached Level 10 Bonecraft, Hal’s CP was at 22.5 and that was largely thanks to his creation - or rather, rediscovery - of the lost art. With the 50% Morale boost and the 25% CP boost from Founder’s Day, Hal was sitting at 39.4.

And that was without even being part of a Crafter or Gatherer Band. Something he realized rather belatedly that he needed to do. Even if he didn’t get much of a benefit, surely those around him would.

He was already making sure he was nearby, he might as well go the extra mile and have both Noth and himself join one of the established Crafting Bands.

Too bad he couldn’t use his CP from Bonecrafting in place of his missing Construction skill to build the walls alongside the dwarves, instead of only creating materials for them.

When Hal came upon the first Earthen Bulwark he was surprised at the progress. They had barely begun that morning and though his Tactician bonus didn’t affect the CP required very much, they were already nearly a quarter done with the construction.

Hal found not Athagan, but Durvin directing these dwarves. Another dwarf, one that Hal didn’t know the name of, was putting his bushy head together with Durvin’s as they bent over the schematics weighed down on a hastily cobbled table.

Durvin caught sight of Hal and the relief on the older dwarf’s face was palpable. That is, until he spied Noth with the massive [Palisade Spike] balanced on her shoulder.

92

Hal waited while Durvin spluttered and stamped about. Here too the grass was springy and healthy despite the many heavy dwarven boots trampling it. He had explained what he planned to do and while originally Durvin was glad for the help, he soon started to curse and rant and rave.

While Durvin was otherwise preoccupied, Hal took the time to sort through his long overdue Bonecrafting perks.

You have 1 Bonecrafting Perk point awaiting assignment.

Bone Purification 0/1

Purge impurities from bone, increasing the likelihood of achieving higher quality and reducing the amount of CP needed to craft material made from purified bone. Purified bones are required for Bone Ensorcellment.

+10% High-Quality rate.

-10% CP cost.

Essence Imbuement 0/1

While others must slay or find their raw materials, you are capable of creating it. This comes with a number of additional features - and drawbacks. With Essence Imbuement you can specifically aim to create bones of monsters whom you have at least 100% Monster Affinity with.

Ossification Mastery 0/1

Master the art of working with bone, honoring the creatures the material came from and utilizing it in the most efficient manner possible. In doing so, you not only can work with more materials but can work with all materials faster.

Unlocks: Draconic Bone.

+5% High-Quality rate.

+5% CP.

There was absolutely no way he wasn’t going to pick Essence Imbuement. Not only was it perfectly suited to him - and unique - it gave him exactly what he was after.

True, it didn’t improve his raw ability to create anything but it would have some interesting effects. What would a shadow bone look like? Or an eldritch? While he wouldn’t feel comfortable about using goblin bones, he couldn’t help wondering what benefits they might confer.

Selecting it, Hal turned his attention back to Durvin just as he was winding down. The bronze-eyed dwarf cast a baleful look his way, put his strong fists on his hips, and said, “Get yerself on the Ironspine Band and stay outta the way, boy! We ain’t got time to hold yer hand, gotta do enough o’ that with all the dunderheads that don’t know crossbeam from a brace!”

Hal accepted the invite as soon as it came. He saw Noth’s name pop up next to his in a much larger list than the typical party menu. Rather than a bunch of bars indicating HP, SP, and MP, it was a list of names and their current GP or CP generation on their given task.

Durvin invites you to Crafting Band (Ironspine).

+15% CP.

New Band Buff Active: Master in the Building.

-10% Material cost.

-10% CP cost.

+15% Epiphany chance.

It also listed the current group work, in this case, it was the two nearby Earthen Bulwarks. Since each Earthen Bulwark had a worker limit of 10 people that meant Hal and Noth were displacing two workers.

He felt bad about it until he realized that the CP generation had jumped by half and he gave the Master in the Building buff to everybody in the band.

Quickly the few grumbles turned to shouts of surprise. While every person above the initial 5 in a Crafting Band granted some bonus, it was usually fairly small it seemed.

“What’s epiphany?” Noth asked.

Durvin’s eyes were filled with wonder and he stared at Hal like he might kiss him again like he had during the feast that first night. Right before Hal got black-out drunk.

He wasn’t keen on replicating either of those two events and took a cautious step backward.

“Ye durned…” he grumbled and shook his beard. It was a good deal longer and fuller than the close-cropped thing he had when Hal met him. He was looking like more of a proper dwarf every day. “Dagdamora, boy, and Mornhammer and Dumaduin thrown in as well!”

“What do the dwarven gods have to do with my question?” Noth asked.

Durvin turned a bushy brow her way, surprised she had recognized the names. “An epiphany is a rare thing, lass. Ye sometimes get an idea in yer head when doin’ something mundane?”

“No,” Noth said. “But I have not been mortal very long. I did not do ‘mundane’ things before I turned mortal.”

“I get what you mean,” Hal said before Durvin could start on a rant again. “Please, go on.”

Grumbling, Durvin explained, “What it means, is while yer doin’ some crafting ye got a chance to get an Epiphany, capital ‘E’. When ye be gettin’ an Epiphany ye Level Up. Don’t matter if ye got a hunnerd or a thousand Experience to go. Ye go straight to the next Level.”

When Noth and Hal both stared at Durvin as if he was about to confess he was joking, the dwarf shook his head. “Now ye see just how important that buff be. Ain’t never seen it meself, but ye ain’t gonna find a moment o’ peace now boy.” He turned to Hal with a toothy grin. “Everybody and their uncle’s gonna want ye in their Crafting Band now that they know what ye got.”

“And who could blame ‘em?” bellowed a similarly bronze-haired dwarf that was beside Durvin. He extended a gloved hand to Hal, shaking his hand so hard it felt like he might rip Hal’s arm off with the motion. “Name’s Snakkoth Rubybrow. Ye can just call me Snak. Everybody does.”

“Nice to meet you Snak,” Hal said.

He turned to shake Noth’s hand, who likewise greeted him.

“Yer five percent increase ain’t even the best thing. Ye got the cost of materials down a tenth, the CP cost of the durned construction down a tenth, and ye gave durned near everybody a one-in-sixth chance of leaping up a Level. Crappin’ karaks, boy! I thought fer sure Durvin was pulling me beard when he told me about working with ye.

“Yer a heap of Mythril in a slag pit ye are, boy! I’m in charge o’ the Ironspines and truth-be-told, I don’t care much what ye do. Yer buffs are enough that ye could sit on yer keister all day if ye liked and not a one o’ our boys would say a word against ye.”

Durvin snorted like a bull about to charge. “Ain’t nobody gonna say a word against the lad anyway. None of us would be here without Hal, and dwarven memory ain’t so short as a human’s.”

“True enough,” Snak said with a pat on Durvin’s back. “True enough! Ye go do yer own thing, just stick around eh? The buff’s got itself a wide range but it’s only about a quarter-mile. Stay near so everybody gets it and ye can go fart in the wind for all’s I care!”

Hal shook his head, the laughter of the two dwarves echoed above the resumed clamor of work being down. Stone was chiseled and stacked, earth dug up and deposited.

The first Earthen Bulwark was already down to 298.5 CP cost from his initial Tactician benefit. With the new Crafting Band buff, that was reduced further. Hal noted with a grin that the reduction was off of the base CP cost and not the new lower amount.

That put the Earthen Bulwark at 268.5 CP cost. A quick glance at the dwarves in the Ironspine Band showed an average CP of 2.4 as their base rate. With the variety of bonuses that were stacked upon each of them, that number was drastically inflated.

The 50% Morale boost, 25% Founder’s Day buff, and the 15% Ironspine Band boost all added up to a whopping 90% increase. Even without the buffs, ten of them combined were capable of roughly 24 CP an hour.

At the reduced cost of 268.5 per Earthen Bulwark that put them at just over 11 hours of work to finish a single wall section.

And since the dwarves could work for a ridiculous 12 hours a day, that meant a single wall section would be completed per day, per group. Granted, there were only about three to four bands in total with the majority on the wall.

They had a band at the Town Hall but the buffs were not nearly as powerful as they were at the gap where the walls were being constructed. With only 8 workers on the Town Hall and nothing else being constructed within a quarter-mile, the effect of a Crafting Band was fairly minor.

But, the Ironspines were not operating at a basic level.

Their base CP was practically doubled. Though Hal had to remind himself that he and Noth were taking up two slots. Though the dwarves were roughly at 2.4 CP each, only 9 could work on a single Earthen Bulwark at once unless Hal and Noth joined in.

Adjusting for that still gave a hefty base rate of 21.6 CP per hour. With all the stacking buffs, if Hal and Noth completely abstained from any construction - which Hal had no intention of avoiding - the dwarves had a staggering 41 CP.

The 20-man Ironspine Band could almost put up 4 Earthen Bulwarks a day. Each 9-man team could generate roughly 41 CP and it would take them just over 6 and a half hours to finish one Earthen Bulwark. With Noth and Hal’s help, they should be able to bring that down to an even 4 per day.

At that rate, the Ironspine Band alone could finish the Earthen Bulwarks on their own.

With the knowledge that Luda could extend the Founder’s Day throughout the week, Hal suddenly felt much more confident.

He immediately set up a space at the first Earthen Bulwark and set to work. The dwarves there gave him a wide, respectful berth. Even going so far as to deliver a few ramshackle tables.

Noth placed the first [Palisade Spike] down and Hal got to work creating a second one. Instead of creating normal bone, or bone that was colored by his essence, he was capable of selecting the type of bone as if he found it on the monster itself.

Hal picked shadow, and as he deposited his mana, the massive bone sharpened log that formed was indistinct and ephemeral but solid to the touch. At night it would be practically impossible to see. And that’s precisely what he was hoping for.

They could do this.

93

On his third [Shadow Palisade Spike], Hal felt a surge of knowledge flood through him and then a prompt flashed across his vision.

Epiphany!

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 12.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+13.2%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+14.4%).

“I could get used to this,” he said with a grin at Noth. He noticed something else too. Using shadow seemed faster than the normal, neutral bone he made. Considering his high affinity to shadow… was that playing a role?

For the first half of the day Hal tinkered with Bonecrafting, creating one [Palisade Spike] after the next, often in a different affinity than before. And to his delight, affinity did play a role in how quickly he could make it and how much MP it cost.

Stronger affinity essences took less MP and less CP to make. Through a great deal of experimentation, Hal discovered it to be around 2% less MP per 100% affinity and half that reduction in CP cost.

A little more experimentation and some helpful input from Noth showed that it was a linear progression. Which meant the bone from a 100% monster affinity cost 2% MP less and 1% less CP to make. But a 150% monster affinity bone would result in a 3% MP reduction and cost 1.5% less CP.

A single [Palisade Spike] cost 130 MP normally. A [Shadow Palisade Spike] cost 121.5 MP and cost 9.6 CP to craft. And shadow essence wasn't even his highest affinity. That would be eldritch, followed by aberration.

Eldritch, however, granted him 12.4% MP reduction and a 6.2% lowered CP cost. He tried Splicing two essences and tapping those but it led to either a complete failure or only the first selected essence working.

While he liked the shadowy almost gelatinous look of a [Shadow Palisade Spike], the [Eldritch Palisade Spike] had a twisted pale white with red threads visage that was strikingly beautiful. Noth hefted the most recent spike and took it over to the construction area set aside.

After not too long, Hal heard a golden bell ring somewhere in the distance and a prompt rolled in that made him smile as he finished his lunch with Noth. They had taken a break, as much to rest as to eat something and discuss which of the [Palisade Spikes] was best.

The prompt, however, was not unique to Hal.

You have completed construction on the Earthen Bulwark.

You have completed construction on the Earthen Bulwark.

The Bravers Guild has reached Level 3.

+10 Guild Point generation (30/day).

+25 Guild Point capacity (275).

You have 1 Guild Perk awaiting assignment.

Building things definitely seemed to be a way to farm some decent Guild EXP. And considering how badly they needed buildings, it was a win-win. Hal leaned back in the chair he was sitting in. The roughshod piece of furniture creaked ominously and Hal straightened up again as he focused on the Guild Perk menu.

Mercantile and Adventure Archetypes would have to wait. They already had a point in Authority and Settlement. Authority was mostly administration and management, something he didn’t really need right then.

But anything that would help with Settlement building? That was practically all they were doing.

[Settlement Archetype]

Founding 1/1

The Founding perk grants a temporary buff known as “Founder’s Day,” which repeats once per year on the anniversary of this perk’s attainment. The initial “Founder’s Day” buff lasts for three days. Every year the settlement remains the “Founder’s Day” buff grows in strength.

Changes settlement type to outpost.

Unlocks Research Points.

Unlocks Manatree Control.

Unlocks Morale.

Grants Tier I Building Schematics.

Allows the formation of Gatherer & Crafter Bands.

Staging Points 0/1

Staging Points allow for the assembly of materials in an area near the construction zone rather than taking each of the required materials from storage and bringing them to the construction site to build on-demand.

Setting up these locations takes time and resources, but reduces the cost of constructing additional buildings in the area.

Unlocks Staging Points.

Staging Point

Allows for the swift construction and collection of materials to a specific location, reducing the CP cost of all constructed buildings within a quarter-mile by 10%.

Materials

Wood: 2t

Parameters

HP: 100

DEF: 0

MDEF: 0

Construction

Cost: 200

Difficulty: 1

Worker Limit: 10

Encampment 0/1

By dedicating your group to a given area and resting in it for at least a single night, you have begun to put down roots. An encampment is a higher tier Settlement type than an Outpost and provides access to new Building Schematics as well as reducing the Morale penalty of an outpost.

Changes Settlement type to encampment.

Grants additional Tier I Building Schematics.

Encampment

Consumption: +5%

Production: -5%

Influence Area: -15%

Settlement Morale: -35%

Research Points: -35%

Hal’s eyes lit up at the Encampment perk. While Staging Point would no doubt be useful, it cost CP and materials to set up. Not only that, but its reduction was 10%.

From what Hal could gather, Morale directly impacted CP generation. Every point of Morale was a direct 1% increase to CP. He was sure it impacted other facets of the Settlement as well but CP was the most important for the time being.

And while reducing the cost of nearby constructions by 10%, the Encampment perk would halve their losses on combined production and consumption. And the Morale penalty was 15% less than an outpost.

Which meant that technically, by upgrading to an encampment they were getting a lot more out of the deal than building Staging Points.

Provided nothing better showed up when they reached Guild Level 4, Hal would get the Staging Point perk. For now, the Encampment perk was too useful.

Selecting the perk and confirming its allocation, Hal was greeted with another notification.

Settlement Type

Encampment

Consumption: +5%

Production: -5%

Influence Area: -15%

Settlement Morale: +65%

Research Points: -35%

New Building Schematics Unlocked: Specialized Buildings.

Workshop

Housing readily accessible tools and supplies with its own storage for both, a Workshop makes crafting easier while keeping the workers out of inclement weather. Workshops are capable of being upgraded and specialized but doing so makes them less useful to other crafting disciplines.

Workshops are Tier I buildings, to upgrade to a specialized Tier II building the Settlement must be Village or higher.

Materials

Wood: 8t

Stone: 3t

Parameters

HP: 500

DEF: 15

MDEF: 15

Occupancy: 5

CP Generation: +15%

Construction

Cost: 320

Difficulty: 3

Worker Limit: 5

Study

Studying and learning are difficult to do out where distractions abound. A Study isn’t quite a Library but it is the first step toward one. A Study provides a safe, comfortable, and clean place to study and store knowledge. It is here that Research Points can be gained and new knowledge committed to books and scrolls for future use.

Like Workshops, Studies can be upgraded along specific paths to facilitate the learning and teaching of specific skills. A Settlement must be Village or higher in order to progress a Study along a specific upgrade path.

Materials

Wood: 12t

Stone: 5t

Parameters

HP: 550

DEF: 30

MDEF: 30

Occupancy: 12

Research Point Generation: +10%

Construction

Cost: 550

Difficulty: 3

Worker Limit: 8

“These new buildings look amazing,” Hal said. “They’re pretty costly but they’re both upgradeable and the Study is the only one I’ve seen that has anything to do with Research Points.”

Noth looked over, then her eyes glazed a little as she saw the same menus he did. As part of the Council, she could see all the new Building Schematics as well, she just couldn’t order them to be built like Hal.

“You could have the Ironspines make that in a day or two,” Noth said once she took a moment to read over them. “I do not pretend to fully understand what this RP does, but the faster we get some research going the better I think. It cannot hurt to have a resource building up in the meantime and not everybody is suited for hard construction.”

Deep in thought, Hal leaned the chair back on two legs. He barely had any warning as the legs creaked ominously once again and then snapped. Instinctively, Hal reached out his arms and his essence-limbs sprang forth. Eldritch essence-laced limbs braced him like coiling clouds of dark mist illuminated within by flashes of red lightning.

He was on his feet before he even realized what he did.

Noth stared at him, startled. She sighed and put her chin in her palm, her elbow propped on the small table they were eating at. “I miss my wings.”

Hal dismissed the essence-limbs and gave her a sheepish look. “You don’t talk about your past much,” Hal pointed out.

She rolled one shoulder in a lazy shrug. “What is there to know? I Reaped souls, Hal. It wasn’t exactly a… how does the phrasing go, ‘a nine-to-five job’.”

“Still,” he pressed, “you don’t mention anything about it. Does it make you sad to think about what you were?”

Noth shot up suddenly like somebody had pricked her with a pin. Her golden eyes flashed to Hal, then away just as quickly. “It used to… but you were right.”

Hal leaned forward smugly with a wide grin. “Oh, do go on.”

That eased the tension that was rolling off Noth enough for her to shake her head at least, instead of refusing to meet his gaze. “I was immortal. I lived for millennia. Longer. And in less than a single turn of this world’s sun, I have felt more. Experienced more. Lived more than I ever did before.”

She tilted her head to look straight at him. “The measure of my years was long but they were empty. As you so eloquently put it to me once, it was not the quantity of my years that mattered, but the quality. And here… with you, with everybody? I finally have a home. I am happy.”

Noth’s gaze drifted from Hal, reaching over his shoulder to the unknown lands beyond the gap to their newfound home. “And I will never let anybody take this home away from us.”

94

The rest of the day was a blur of motion and activity.

In the end, the Ironspine Band managed to erect a total of 4 Earthen Bulwarks. The other Bands working on the Earthen Bulwarks were less fortunate, but out of the other 2 Crafting Bands at the Gap, only one other Earthen Bulwark was put up.

That was one of the farthest east along the gap, the one that benefited the most from Hal’s increased Tactician skill. The only reason a single extra Earthen Bulwark was completed was because of the difference Hal made with the CP reducing adjustments to the layout and building plan.

The other 3 Earthen Bulwarks were completed in all but name. That night, when Hal had time alone to reflect and relax by the warm glow of a campfire just outside his wagon, he looked over the day’s earnings.

Each of the additional Earthen Bulwarks were off by such a small amount of CP that an hour or less of concerted effort would see their completion.

Almost all of the dwarves were in on the construction efforts, with assistance from some of Luda’s disciples. Another Crafting Band was assembled with the express instruction to find an adequate Quarry site and one for a Lumberjack’s Hut. Those, however, were less critical than the walls.

In fact, until Hal saw how large the gains were for joining the Ironspine Band, he was about to recall everybody who was focused on another task to join in the wall efforts.

But that was wholly unnecessary.

With Luda extending the Founder’s Day buffs, for more than a week everybody would get a massive 25% boost to both EXP and skill. And with so many people poorly skilled in Construction, it led to a series of fast skill ups within the first day alone.

Adding to that, Hal’s introduction of epiphanies to his Band meant that they Leveled Up quite a good deal faster.

On his own, Hal gained 4 total Levels of Bonecrafting taking it to Level 16. His newly acquired Construction hit Level 5, and he received a Level in Persuasion though he didn’t quite understand why.

With everybody’s Levels at such a low starting point, a single Level Up or two in Construction was practically a doubling of their base CP. The addition of tools, which were locked by Levels in Construction were soon becoming available.

By the end of the day, there were several dwarves who had proper iron tools, hammers, saws, and the like. Until that point, they had to make do with well-made but significantly weaker tools that barely were better than the sturdy folk’s hands.

Hal took a moment to look over his Construction skill:

Construction

Integral for any soul seeking to live with a roof over their head, Construction allows for the creation of assembled parts into a building or structure. In whole or in part, Construction requires the ability to properly read and understand Building Schematics in order to create a structure.

His CP went from 1.23 at Level 1 Construction up to 3.91 at Level 5. If everybody else in the Ironspine had a similar CP - and theirs would likely be higher given that many could equip the tools that were Level 7 and Level 8 respectively - that placed their base CP rate at nearly the same as their total augmented CP was earlier that day.

Each day they were able to keep the boosts from Founder’s Day and the Crafting Band buffs would see dramatic gains in skill and CP rate. Hal’s precaution of needing each person to build Earthern Bulwarks was all for naught.

The truth was, the Ironspine Band alone could cover the construction of each of the Earthen Bulwarks. If he and Noth once again lent them their aid, with a baseline of Hal’s CP growth as a metric, they could get 6 Earthern Bulwarks built tomorrow.

Added to the 5 already constructed that day, and they were practically halfway done after one night and two days. Even if they stayed at that pace, the Ironspines would be done in a few days tops.

His plan of making bone [Palisade Spikes] wasn’t a bad one, but it was also largely unnecessary. With the glut of CP they now had, Hal could prioritize certain structures that he was wary of building before.

Reaching out to his mug of hot tea resting dangerously close to the fire to ward off the chill of the night, Hal chuckled.

Clearly, an encampment Settlement wasn’t usually filled with so many sturdy dwarves to help with the construction. Hal couldn’t begin to imagine what this would be like without them.

If they had come here as they originally planned, if Murkmire hadn’t gone so horribly wrong and they felt forced to swing for the fences with that florking Coffin Contract….

Hal could only shake his head.

They would have numbered less than 20 people. Sure, they likely would have arrived in the Shiverglades much faster and through a potentially safer route. But he doubted they would have been able to keep what little land they managed to claim as their own.

Especially if this was the reception the Shiverglades gave its pioneers.

Sipping his still hot tea, Hal leaned back in his chair and crossed one ankle over the other. The encampment was still and quiet for once. Everybody who could work was doing just that.

Each and every person knew how much every bit of progress mattered. If they couldn’t get enough wood and stone for their construction efforts, they would be unable to use the superior CP granted to them.

Using his bone for the [Palisade Spikes] was a stop-gap. One that, if Hal was being honest with himself, was rather cool looking. The [Eldritch Palisade Spikes] were twisted about with deceptively sharp edges. White as marble but streaked with crimson glowing crystal, they made for a beautiful - if imposing - façade that would greet anybody coming to their new Settlement.

But Noth was right. She wasn’t being utilized to her full potential but he had to admit, he liked having her there. More than her quiet support and company, she helped him to think. He could talk about what he was planning and by discussing it with her, could arrive at a better solution than the one he originally planned on.

Everybody else in his usual group was busy with one task or another. He hadn’t seen Elora all day. Not since she left that note and those trinkets.

Her dwarven accomplice had been hard at work, however, and a full quarter of the Guild was equipped with the warming items. It wouldn’t last much longer into the winter, but Hal was hoping that they wouldn’t have to.

For now, they were good on food supplies and with their growing pool of CP, each person could have a small cabin to call their own. A Bunkhouse - despite its efficiency - wasn’t necessary. And that would only further mitigate the coming Morale crash.

Everything he was planning on doing was to blunt that issue when it came. And it would come. It was only through Luda’s gift that they could extend it beyond its initial window.

With its massive 75% effective CP increase, it was as if they had well over a hundred workers all striving to carve out a life here in this valley.

No doubt the higher Settlement Tiers would have outrageously expensive buildings that were on par with a larger population and skill Level than they had. But until that time, Hal could direct the flow of CP to make not only Earthen Bulwarks, but convert those already created into Palisades.

The beauty of a Palisade was that they could be erected after the Earthen Bulwark went up. He had tested it out just before they quit working that day. And to his great surprise, his Tactician skill worked as well.

Being partially made already, the Earthen Bulwark’s portion of the construction was deducted from the total of the Palisade’s cost. Resulting in a rather scant 150 CP cost.

Before Hal went to bed, he mentally organized the remaining Bands that were working at the Gap. Despite needing to leave the safety of the valley, he could not ignore the massive boost he provided the Ironspine Band.

The 15% epiphany chance alone was impossible to quantify as each time a person Leveled Up a crafting skill their CP rose which made the work go faster. And that made more people Level Up as each completion of a craft - or in the case of Construction, every 25% of the building’s completion - seemed to not only give a large amount of skill EXP but the chance for epiphany to trigger was fairly high as well.

Since the Ironspines were about the highest CP Crafting Band in the entire Guild, it would be up to them to make the Earthen Bulwarks largely on their own. That would give Hal the ability to enhance each new construction with Tactician.

At the same time, the other Crafting Bands could come after and with the [Eldritch Palisade Spikes] Hal created, could construct the Palisades over the newly created Earthen Bulwarks. Essentially upgrading their defenses immediately after creating them by layering the spikes vertically in front of the Earthern Bulwarks, turning the already sturdy wall into an even stronger Palisade.

Not to mention, Hal thought as he finished the last of his tea and kicked dirt over the dying flames of the campfire, it also allows me to double-dip Tactician.

He went to bed that night, considerably more relaxed than the night before.

95

Smack.

Smack. Smack.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Hal started awake just as another tiny velvety brown paw swung at his face, smacking his cheek. He grumbled, recognizing Komachi instantly as she laid on his chest staring at him with those soulful dark eyes.

Realizing she succeeded in waking Hal up, she nodded sagely, said, “Komachi,” and then promptly smacked him again.

It didn’t hurt, her paw was so tiny and soft that it was almost like being tickled. “Komachi?” Hal asked muzzily.

“Elora is going to be gone for a little bit. She’s helping the sexy sneaky barbarian.”

Hal tried to work through what she was saying. “You mean, Elaise? Where have they gone?” A knot of worry began to grow in his stomach. While they didn’t necessarily need every person constructing at the moment, the very fact that Elora had gone off without saying anything was worrying.

And why with Elaise?

Elora’s familiar nodded. “Komachi,” she intoned.

“How’re you going to get back to her?” he asked, noticing the fine chain that was on her little otter head and the small red chip of [Shardite] that rested on her forehead.

“Komachi got her ways,” she said in the most enigmatic way possible.

Hal started to get up but Komachi put one paw on his chin and he froze, looking at her questioningly.

“I got some bamboozlin’ to do. We will be back soon, tell moo-girl not to worry.” Komachi punctuated her words with a sweet soft chirp and a surprisingly gentle touch on Hal’s cheek. “You worry too much. I give the good slep.”

“Don’t you mean sleep?” Hal replied.

Komachi grinned and said, “Nope.” Right before a wave of magic rolled out from her.

It smothered Hal in soothing comfort. Deep relaxation settled into his bones, making his muscles jelly. He couldn’t have been tense if he tried. Within seconds he was falling down a dark tunnel toward dreamless oblivion.

The last thing he saw was Komachi turn herself around on his chest and inadvertently smack him across the face with her thick furry tail as she snickered to herself, “Gonna bamboozle me a box.”

* * *

Vorax’s latest exploits left him tired and a bit drained. Being given a task from Hal to find and try to recruit monsters, however, was deeply important. And it necessitated that he spent most of his time outside of the comforting range of Hal and his fledgling town.

Monsters were typically crepuscular if not totally nocturnal. As a mimic, Vorax didn’t much care whether it was day or night. He didn’t need light to see by, after all.

After another fruitless day of wandering the hidden nooks and crannies likely to hold monsters, Vorax - with a pair of koblins that could be spared from their duties at the wall - returned to the caravan empty-handed. Again.

Failing was not a common event in Vorax’s life. And it felt twice as bad knowing that Hal was counting on him to find more allies. Whatever was coming was bad. Vorax could feel it in his gold banding.

They would need allies and more besides if they were to survive whatever the Shiverglades were sending against them.

Hopping along, Vorax said goodbye to the koblin pair who once more heaped upon him multitudinous praise and ridiculously honorific names. Most of which, by this point, Vorax learned to tune out.

It wasn’t very easy to track the subtle emanations of various monsters - most of which were trying very hard to stay hidden! - while being distracted by things like “His Splendiferous Right Angled Holdiness,” and, “Box Gloriousness of the Havior’s Illuminating Soul.”

“Shash, shaa!” Vorax said, knowing the koblins would understand his goodbye. With a final wave of his purple tendril, he turned and began to hop toward Hal’s wagon, eager for some rest and relaxation.

The fires had burned down low and only a few guards were pacing about. Most people were tired and slept deeply. Those that could be spared did double-duty as guards, often rotating Rangers and dwarves in and out.

More than a few monster incursions had already happened. Minor fights that were put down before they could be much of an issue but they were beginning to happen with increasing regularity.

Enough, that Vorax thought it was prudent to warn Hal about. The Shiverglades was growing restless and it would send its minions at Hal and his people long before the true test of their defenses came.

If anybody had noticed the increase in monster activity, Vorax didn’t hear about it. He needed to rest his lid for an hour or so, recover some HP from that nasty spill he took bouncing down the rocky escarpment to the west, then he would talk to Hal.

Considering that, much like Vorax, Hal didn’t really need to sleep. And if he did, it was short, the mimic had every confidence that he would be able to catch his best friend before he started his day.

That was, until his senses suddenly picked up something strange.

Vorax was fairly tired and distracted, so he didn’t notice it immediately. That was unlike him. He hopped about, focusing on the monstrous emanation.

It resolved itself slowly at first. As he focused, his sense of alarm quickly shifted to intrigue. It was another mimic!

Not just any other mimic, a girl mimic.

Paying no mind to what a girl mimic - a treasuregorger at that - was doing on the outskirts of the caravan, Vorax hopped and bounced gaily toward her. He ran his purple tongue over his lid in an attempt to smooth it and give it a nice glossy sheen.

He shuffled and bounced as he came closer to her beautifully robust boxiness. Vorax sent out a friendly empathetic connection but curiously felt nothing there.

Not to be deterred, the mimic came a little closer and shimmied about enticingly. Hoping to draw the shy mimic out of her coy state, he opened his lid, and with his long purple tongue pulled out a pile of gold trinkets in offering.

Vorax danced about for a while more and when that didn’t work, he set the treasure down in front of the mimic a respectful ten feet away. “Shahshahl,” he intoned, hoping that an attempt to greet her would woo the delicate thing.

So she’s playing hard to get, he thought. Time to break out the ol’ reliable.

Lifting his tongue high in the air, Vorax created complicated shapes with the long purple appendage. Smaller, purple tendrils slipped themselves free of their velvety confines and wriggled in the air above him.

He rolled the appendages in an intricate dance, and when that didn’t work he moved on to a more direct approach. He formed several lewd gestures with the waggling appendages, the likes of which would make any proper mimic’s banding blush copper.

It was about that time that Vorax noticed something was off. The mimic wasn’t moving, didn’t respond in any normal way he would expect. Pulling the treasure back inside, he hopped vigorously about the mimic.

And only when he was within a foot or two did he realize his mistake. What he thought was a mimic was, in fact, nothing more than a shapely pile of wood set aside for campfire use.

Vorax swore he heard snickering somewhere in the distance, but it was beyond his range of sensing to see who it was and if it was directed at him.

Gathering his broken bits of pride, Vorax turned about and made a beeline for Hal’s wagon. It was dark out. Nobody saw him, and even if they did they did not understand the ways of a mimic to know how utterly foolish he just was.

Only Hal would understand that Vorax had just made a right bucket of himself. And only then if the mimic decided to tell the man. Which, he most definitely did not wish to.

Some secrets were worth taking to the great boxy beyond.

Eager to rest and move past this most recent ordeal, Vorax hopped up the stairs to the wagon and let himself in with a tendril. The door swung open quietly and the mimic let himself in.

Once inside he caught the distinct sensation of Komachi.

And suddenly everything fit into place.

But as he settled in underneath Hal’s bunk, he couldn’t dredge up any anger at the pobul. She was, by her very nature, a trickster god-thing. And in the end, nobody was really hurt by it.

Tasting the air, Vorax could taste Komachi’s salt-water taffy flavored magic lingering about. So it would seem that Hal also was on the receiving end of Komachi’s trickery.

As Vorax settled in for a bit of shut-lid, he strangely felt better knowing that they both had been bamboozled. Not that he forgave Komachi. Maybe she couldn’t help her ways, but that didn’t mean Vorax was going to let this slide.

Oh no. A mimic always pays his dues. And so, as he drifted off to dream of scantily clad mimics in delicate - slightly revealing - bands of platinum and mythril, he thought of ways to trick the trickster.

96

“Where does she go?” Elaise asked. Her Common was getting better, Elora thought.

The Ranger shrugged and looked around the dark marshy forest. If not for the frigid temperature, the ground would be soggy and wet. Instead, it was the strangest mix of slush and mud. And yet, somehow, there was an abundance of greenery.

“Before we go any further,” Elora explained, hands on her hips, “I wanted to let the others know where I was and that I was safe. The last thing they can ill-afford to do is set up a search party to come looking for me. If what you said is true, they will need all the defenses and strength they can get.”

The towering woman nodded gravely. Elora still wasn’t sure why she was helping them. This clearly went above and beyond anything Elaise was tasked with doing.

She had seen them safely to their destination, provided them with the means to combat the Shiverglade’s insidious voidmist, but she still desired to help. Why?

That was the question. More than anything, that made Elora agree to help the woman. She took it upon herself to be Hal’s guardian, and she would protect him against all threats. Especially leggy beauties that popped out of the marshlands with gifts and guidance.

Elora didn’t believe in giving something away for free. Elaise wanted something, or else there was an ulterior motive the wily Wildsmaster hadn’t been able to suss out just yet.

But she would.

“The Blessing yet lingers,” Elaise said, studying Elora. “Your tribe is interesting.”

Elora had explained many times that they were not a tribe, but the woman clearly decided she wasn’t going to understand. She was right about one thing, though.

The Manaseed’s blessing was still protecting her. A faint sheen of pale light reflected off her skin, giving it a luminous glow when she looked at it from just the right angle.

Much like the barbarian’s tattoos that swirled across her bare skin, the protection from the Manaseed repelled the voidmist. Those dangerous dark tendrils that snaked through the mist.

Elaise had been less than forthcoming about them, proclaiming what amounted to base superstition. The representation of some evil that yet lingers in the Shiverglades, or the “Black Lands” as she called this place.

When Elora had first agreed to go along with her, the woman seemed prepared to give Elora the same markings she held. Elora gathered that was fairly taboo considering she wasn’t part of the Ebonstar Tribe.

Things must be dire indeed for Elaise to break so many of her vaunted tribe’s protocols. She certainly didn’t seem keen on sharing it with her and Elora knew well enough that the woman had a satisfactory command of Common to get her point across if she wanted.

She hoped that it wouldn’t be a long trek. Already, several hours after leaving the safety of the Settlement, the Manaseed’s protection seemed paler than before.

Elora brought up the single prompt she had for it.

Blessing of the Manaseed.

The protective magicks of your Settlement’s Manaseed is preventing the corrosive effects of noxblight corruption.

Elaise had no idea what this “noxblight” was, though it was easy enough to guess it was the voidmist.

All it meant for Elora was that people could venture away from the Settlement but not for long. How long, she couldn’t tell. Given Elaise’s earlier offer to mark her in a similar fashion, she expected that if the blessing failed Elaise would offer once again.

Elora, never appreciating to be in another’s debt, hoped that their business would be concluded by then.

Komachi had told her that it would be an hour or more for her to return to the Settlement by “secret pobul ways, stop asking how.”

Elora wanted to avoid setting a campfire but the barbarian insisted after they found a small hollow to camp within that the woman assured was safe. Why one place would be safe and not another, Elora had no idea.

The entirety of the Shiverglades was foreign and alien to her. It set her teeth on edge. A Wildsmaster was still a Ranger and it was in her very job description to be skilled in the wild lands such as these.

And yet she felt like a veritable babe in the woods.

Meanwhile, the barbarian sauntered about with her strange markings and her stranger ways of disappearing from sight - despite Elora’s high Perception and Darkvision - one minute then reappearing in a different location the next.

Elaise gathered a bunch of moss patches, arranging them like one might arrange firewood. “I can help with that,” Elora said. “I’m rather skilled with setting camp.”

The barbarian looked up at her, snorted, and said, “No. This different. You will draw monsters.”

With a sigh, Elora slumped to the ground and sat cross-legged on the other side of what would be the campfire.

Where was that sweet but troublesome pobul?

Despite Elaise’s idolization of Komachi, the woman hardly seemed bothered by her absence. “What do you know of pobuls?” Elora decided to ask after a long bout of silence. The campfire was set up but not lit, Elaise seemed to be praying in front of it.

“Much more than you,” she said at length.

Suppressing a childish eye-roll, Elora plowed on. “She is precious to me, you know. But I know very little about her or her kind. Why are there no others here? She has… magic that no other creature I have ever seen has. It’s almost as if she… games the System.”

Elaise looked up, catching her eye and grinning. “This is unsurprising.”

“Why?” Elora asked with such fierceness that Elaise was not the only one taken aback by her sudden need to know.

The barbarian fell into a deep crouch and settled her forearms on her knees, watching Elora intently with those chips of ice-blue eyes. She let out a beleaguered sigh. “Pobuls magical.” She tried to motion with her hands, fumbled whatever she was doing and stopped with a grumble.

“I know pobuls are magical,” Elora said, trying to be patient.

“No, you not understand. Pobuls magic.” When Elora didn’t seem to gasp at this revelation Elaise clicked her tongue. “Pobuls. Magic.”

“Gods help me,” Elora muttered under her breath. “Saying it louder and slower isn’t going to make me understand it any better!”

“Pobuls ancient being. Long ago. Know Worldshard, yes? Pobuls older than Worldshards.”

“What is a Worldshard?” Elora asked.

Elaise muttered something that sounded like “fangrah” and then took a deep breath to calm herself. “This world? You understand world not flat, yes? Round like ball. Please know this. I cannot. You savages. So dumb.”

Elora grit her teeth. This woman was somehow managing to talk down to her while in broken Common only, which made it worse. It was like a child telling you how dumb you were. “Yes, the world is round,” Elora agreed. “What does that have to do with a Worldshard?”

A look of supreme surprise and yet relief washed over Elaise’s features. Elora felt a vein pulse in annoyance on her forehead.

“Is surprise savages know this. Yet not know Worldshard. Savage knowledge like bog cheese, full of holes and smell bad too. Worldshard is at heart of world. Worldshard die, world die. You understand?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Elora nodded and motioned for her to continue.

“Worldshards provide rules. Many Worldshard exist. Many worlds with different rules. You born on Aldim, yes? You live by Aldim Worldshard rules. Hal, not born on Aldim. Lives by other Worldshard rules, come here, now live by Aldim Worldshard rules.”

As she spoke, Elaise drew in the soft loamy earth unheeding of the cold. She drew one world, then another, illustrating her point. “But… translation error. Hal already have different rules branded on soul. Aldim Worldshard adapts. Is part reason Hal strong fast. But he still live by Aldim Worldshard rules.”

“Pobuls,” Elaise began, drawing another shape far outside of the realm of the two worlds. “Born before the Worldshards. Before order. Belong to ancient creatures known as Soul Aeder. Incorruptible. Pure.” She drew a fair approximation of Komachi with great reverence in her blue eyes.

“Pobuls obey Worldshards because respect. Pobuls knew Worldshard creators. Komachi is pobul. Older than many, I think. Her magic strange, yes? That because she try to mold Pobul Magic to Worldshard rules. Many translation error. Look strange, feel strange. But very powerful.”

Elora nodded along. If what Elaise was saying was correct, then that made a lot of sense all of a sudden. If Komachi was trying to adapt her magic to Aldim’s Worldshard, then that would explain a lot.

From how Komachi could alter her stats at will to how she was - over time at least - able to more closely mimic the magic Elora was familiar with. That meant she hadn’t been mistaken when she saw Komachi literally grab a notification window and shake it about like a dirty piece of laundry.

It also meant….

Elora looked up, eyes wide. The barbarian grinned and nodded. “You start understanding.”

“Does that mean Komachi is a God?” Elora asked, realization dawning on her. What else would you call a being that superseded the rules of a world? That could manipulate them with the ease of a toddler molding putty?

Am I the familiar? It was truly a disturbing thought.

97

“Yes, and no,” Elaise said. She took out a small seed pod and held it up to the moss patches stacked in a pyramid. “Shield eyes.”

Elora barely parsed what Elaise said before she raised her hand at just the right time. Elaise pinched the seed pod and a flash of brilliant white fire shot out into the moss lighting it afire.

A wave of heat flooded over her, chasing the chill that had begun to gnaw at the edges of her limbs. There were limitations to the heated shardite creation she had made. But standing near the flames, she could feel the small chip of [Shardite] on her forehead gather the heat like the dry sands soaked up water.

“Is not God, but god-like,” Elaise explained. “Powerful but innocent. Soul Aeder poor rulers. They…” He stroked her chin idly, trying to think of the word. “What is word for too kind?”

“Naïve?”

“Yes, naïve. Soul Aeder not understand darkness that in the heart of mortals. They know love. Affection. Tenderness. Worldshards that darken, become too dangerous or lack love? Soul Aeder abandon. Is why Aldim no longer with Soul Aeder.”

“Wait,” Elora said, leaning forward. “Soul Aeder used to live on Aldim?”

The barbarian rolled her eyes. “Yes. Is what I saying! How you think I know? Knowledge not come from air! Stupid lowlanders, always with strange thinking. Pobuls live here, before this place sink. Before it called Black Lands. Foolish girl think these lands always so corrupt? Pssh.”

“I’m not stupid!” Elora snapped back. “I’m ignorant. Big difference. Just because I have no way of knowing something doesn’t mean I’m slow.” She took a deep breath and tried to get back on track. Elaise was looking at her with an appraising eye instead of disdain. “And so because pobuls aren’t bound by a Worldshard’s rules, what? They can just… go between Worldshards?” Elora asked.

“Savage becomes enlightened savage,” Elaise intoned. “Yes. Pobuls use water, flowing force of life, to move. Can move through Worldshard or within. Cannot catch Pobul, because they always find ways to slip away. Pobul that you see, wants you seeing. Is why I do not steal Komachi and take her to civilized people. Komachi want stay with you.”

“Wait, what? You were thinking about stealing Komachi?” Elora was surprised at the venom in her voice.

Elaise shook her braided ginger hair. “Yes, but no. Would make Komachi sad. If one Pobul back, many more Pobuls maybe come. Treat Pobul bad, Pobul leave and no more Pobuls. Pobuls heal Worldshard. We want Pobuls.”

Elora sat back on her butt and pursed her lips in thought. If Elaise wasn’t just pulling things out of the air, which she didn’t think she was, Elora had a lot to think about.

So what if Komachi wasn’t a god, she was still a being of power that Elora could barely comprehend. And yet she was so… sweet and cuddly and adorable.

That lined up perfectly with what Elaise said about those sorts of creations. Komachi seemed a little more cognizant of things but only a little. How often had Elora seen Komachi licking her paw and grooming her muzzle when they talked about horrible, dire things?

And at other times, Komachi was there with a clinging hug and a loving embrace to cheer Elora up.

Before she could think on it too much - or worse, head down the rabbit hole of who really was the Wildsmaster and who was the Familiar - a noise perked up Elora’s half-elven ears.

“Komachi!” she heard the pobul cry from somewhere beyond the hollow.

“Komachi?” answered another voice, too fast on the heels of the other to be Komachi asking about in her special way for Elora.

A series of rapid, excited, gleeful chirps and squeaks echoed out into the hollow and both women looked toward the source of the sound just beyond some heavy underbrush above the lip of the hollow.

Elora rose to her feet smoothly at the same time as Elaise looked back to the dancing white flames of the campfire. She seemed utterly unconcerned, which only drove Elora on to investigate.

Following the noises of chirps and rapid squeaking, Elora found Komachi standing on her hind paws with two… paper bags? Yes, two paper bags grasped in each paw.

Just behind her, Elora swore she saw the furry hindquarters of another pobul slip into a half-frozen puddle of water and slip out of sight.

Komachi looked over her shoulder at it, then at Elora. If she could sweat, Elora knew that Komachi would be doing so profusely. She could sense her nervousness through their bond. “…Komachi?” she asked tentatively, raising the strange paper bags in each paw.

“Are you well, Komachi?” Elora asked, she only had concern and love in her heart for Komachi.

“Wut?”

With a good-natured sigh, Elora walked up to her and hefted her into her arms. “I was worried about you.”

“Yis, Komachi back now,” was the pobul’s reply. The nervousness in her Familiar steadily dropped.

Elora looked at the paper… sacks maybe? She’d never seen their like before.

Before she could ask, Komachi rustled the bags. “Komachi brought din-din, and rare din-din too. You gonna like it.”

Bringing the pobul back to the campfire, she set her down and looked at the contents of the sacks that Elora had never seen before. Elaise watched with a rapturous expression.

The symbols on the bags looked… oddly familiar. Where had she seen their like before. One had an image of a black and white bear.

The other was just a jumble of lettering of some sort in a language she clearly didn’t know. It was layered in bars of color with more white lettering. Yellow, brown, pale green, pink, and on and on with a variety of similar colors.

“What’s this?” Elora asked as Komachi reached into the crinkly sack. She pulled out small white containers, one after the other. Far more than such a bag should have held.

Komachi put a paw on a stack of white slightly shiny boxes. “Dessert,” she intoned. “This is Cheesecake Factory. Very tasty. Magical shop, don’t worry about it. This,” she motioned to the other sack with the black and white bear on it. “Panda Express. Also… magical. Yes. Magical. You will like it.”

And so Komachi took out several boxes of unknown material and handed them out. She showed them how to open them, they made a strange sort of crinkling squealing sound when Elora gripped the boxes too hard.

But a simple flip of a tab opened the box on a hinge of the same material. Instantly the hollow was filled with the most decadent scents she ever experienced.

Spicy, savory, with a hint of citrusy sweetness. Inside… the food looked less than edible. It was hard to reconcile the wondrous smells coming from such a gross pile.

It looked like glossy droppings with long brown worms. “Komachi what is this?” Elora asked, having a very hard time matching up the smells with the horrid sight. At least there seemed to be some sort of leafy green in there, tiny though it was.

“Orange chicken chow mein,” Komachi said, intense excitement flowing through their bond.

“I understood two of those words,” Elora muttered.

Meanwhile, across the campfire, Elaise had done as Komachi showed her. By using the small bendy white fork, she spooled some of the noodles about the tines while spearing a lump of gelatinous covered… something.

The look Elaise gave Elora was one of rapturous pleasure. The stoic, often dour barbarian woman’s features melted into a look of sheer ecstasy. Without warning, she began to shovel the food into her mouth with hedonistic abandon.

Elora pet smiling Komachi, delaying the inevitable. Largely because she was afraid it was some magic gone awry. “Did you do the other thing I asked?”

Komachi nodded, she sat in Elora’s lap and held her own container of food but wouldn’t eat until Elora did. “They know.”

“Thank you, Komachi,” Elora said. And then, realizing she couldn’t delay any longer took a bite.

Your Familiar Handling has risen to Level 14.

+1% Familiar obedience (+14%).

+5% Familiar HP (+90%).

She hardly recognized the prompt because the searing heat that assaulted her mouth was impossibly distracting. She reached for her canteen and instead found a round cup pressed into her hand by Komachi.

Elora looked at the dark liquid with cubes of ice floating within and drank without question.

It was too much. She gained another burning sensation, this time one that seemed to tickle her nose as well. The beverage did, however, seem to cut down on the food’s spiciness allowing her to taste the strange medley of flavors.

Sweet and spicy, savory, slightly bready. The drink was sweet - too sweet for her liking - but she could not stop sipping it.

After that meal was something called “cheesecake” and various dairy desserts that Ashera would have been over the moons for. The lamora had a sweet tooth that never seemed satisfied.

They ate decadent treats and gobbled up noodles and delicious meats slathered in all sorts of incongruous sauces.

You eat [Orange Chicken & Chow Mein] (Superb Quality).

-5% HP.

+5 STR | +5 DEX.

Buff: So Spice!

+15% Haste.

+15% AGI.

Duration: 2hrs.

You drink [Cherry Vanilla Cola].

Buff: Sugar Rush.

+20% MP Regeneration.

+10% Haste.

-20% DEX.

-15% Stealth.

+20% Evasion.

Duration: 1hr.

Elora’s hands were shaky and jittery as she read over the notifications. Her mouth burned but she felt like she could sprint - and deeply wanted to - around the hollow they were in like a little kid.

She did her best to sublimate those urges, transferring them into love and affection for Komachi instead. She pet her and played with Komachi, rolled her around, and hugged her tight, much to the pobul’s chirping enjoyment. Those stubby little arms clung to Elora with every hug.

Elaise was watching Elora’s interaction with Komachi with great interest and more than a little approval. Maybe the gulf between them wasn’t quite as wide as she thought.

Tribe of the Ebonstar Reputation: +1,250 (Struggling Lowlander).

The Tribe still views you as a “lowlander” but no longer with contempt. You are seen as a toddler trying to learn the ways of the world but still ignorant of them. In their eyes, with much training and tutelage, there may be hope for you yet.

Elora’s CHR was far from stellar, but maybe she could make some inroads with Elaise - with Komachi’s help of course. By doing so, she might be able to add to the population of the Settlement.

Something she knew was going to be necessary before long to advance to another Settlement Level. With any luck, she might be able to contribute to their grand plan of making a home in a more meaningful way than fighting the things that go bump in the night.

98

Late into the night, Elora talked with Elaise. The food Komachi had brought was an excellent icebreaker, one that Elora wondered about more than a little.

She was certain there was another pobul there but whenever she posed the question to Komachi, the pobul pretended to fall asleep. Komachi could keep her secrets.

The Black Lands, as Elaise constantly referred to them, were teeming with horrible monstrosities. Though, as the onset of winter was fast approaching, many of them were already settling in for their long winter’s rest.

Of course, that meant other creatures came out when the frosts settled in. True to their name, the Shiverglades were already frigid without a speck of white besmirching their virulent green.

That, Elaise had promised her, would soon change. Once winter properly set in, travel was all but impossible.

New creatures awoke from deep in their icy caverns or burrows that held them until the first blankets of snow. Any experience fighting monsters within the next month or two would be entirely different than their wintry brethren.

The cold didn’t slow those creatures down, it made them more vicious and hungry. Just as many of the slithering creatures in the Shiverglades now were able to hide in plain sight, so too could the beasts wreathed in white fur and scale hide within the blinding snows.

Elora was no stranger to snow, Fallwreath had its share of blizzards and harsh winters. But despite her outward appearance, she spent much of her childhood within the safe, sturdy walls of Sanctum-Fallwreath.

Once the snows settled in, food would be an issue. Every problem that they faced now would be magnified tenfold. All the more reason for Elora to come out with Elaise to find these wayward barbarian scouts and enlist their aid.

The less damage done to the Settlement, the more they could focus on building homes and shelters to keep people warm. With fewer people injured or dead from the attack, they would have more hands to work and prepare for the winter.

It was too bad she had to miss most of the Founder’s Day buff. No doubt most of the Settlement was reaping the benefits of such a powerful buff. Unfortunately for Elora, while the protection of the Manaseed seemed to cling to her yet, the Founder’s Day effect had faded almost immediately after venturing beyond the Settlement.

Elora didn’t let it bother her much. What she was doing was far more important than any gains she might make in the three days the buff was ongoing.

She only hoped that Hal could find a way to get the defenses built in time. Elaise seemed all but certain that without these scouts from her tribe, they would be wiped out by whatever was coming.

Even the haughty barbarian admitted she didn’t know what precisely would be thrown at them. Partly because there were so many vicious creatures that made the Shiverglades their home.

And so, ever the pragmatic one, Elora beseeched Elaise to give her a full accounting of all the creatures she did know lived in the Shiverglades.

It was an incredibly long list. The annoyed barbarian halted the instruction less than halfway through to announce she would sleep and Elora would take first watch.

Elora committed the creatures to memory, particularly their strengths and weaknesses. Aside from their descriptions, those were the most important aspects.

The night passed uneventfully and when Elaise woke Elora up with a gentle shake, the pair ate a different meal provided by Komachi. One that was still hot and fresh as if it was just cooked for them moments ago.

Even among the storage magic Elora knew of, that was quite a feat.

On they went, Elaise leading the way with Elora following closely behind. As they stealthily journeyed, Elaise continued to teach the Wildsmaster about the Shiverglades and its many dangers.

The sun was lost somewhere among the cloying canopy of the swampy forest. They trekked over squishy carpets of damp undergrowth, the air was cold but still thick with the scent of earth and greenery. And there was something else.

A faint stench of decay, just on the edge of the scents of life. It didn’t matter where they went, Elora could smell it but when she asked Elaise about it the other woman just shrugged as if she didn’t smell it.

Bars of light broke through the green treetops above and illuminated a singular, massive tree the size of a house. Its limbs spread out in every direction. The barbarian looked at it and stopped.

“See root?” Elaise said, stopping by the towering tree festooned with a dozen vines of varying shades of green. Each vine played host to a riot of blooming flowers despite the frigid temperature.

“That’s a vine,” Elora pointed out.

The barbarian muttered something and rolled her icy-blue eyes at her. “You see, yes?”

“Komachi,” intoned Komachi.

“Yes, pobul one always sees. But lesson is for girl who would walk as woman.”

Elora reached into her jacket where Komachi was curled up and pet the sleek-furred creature. Her companion chirped sweetly and rubbed her muzzle against her palm.

An outpouring of love and affection flooded their bond in both directions until Elora could no longer tell where her emotions ended and Komachi’s began.

Elaise waited patiently. It was the only time she was ever patient with Elora and the Wildsmaster was keen to take advantage of it when she needed to.

Looking at the vines, Elora knew this was a test. Wasn’t the barbarian just saying something about a vine that, when cut would leak a harmless sap to people but it burned like fire when a troll touched it?

And just like fire, it would prevent the overwhelming regenerative properties that the trolls were known for.

But did she say it was light green with purple flowers or dark green with violet flowers? She saw both - and more besides - on that tree.

“I see it,” Elora said, doing well to keep her eyes between the two suspected vines. [Trollsbane] was incredibly useful considering how hard it was to start a fire without magic. The Shiverglades rarely possessed natural kindling or dry wood.

They had wood aplenty but it was sodden or moss-covered, if not covered in a fine layer of ice that immediately soaked the wood and made it useless.

That was something she would need to explain to Hal and the others if Angram hadn’t already discovered it. They would need a stockpile of kindling and warehouses specifically designed for the drying process.

Even with the incredible still-unnamed invention that Elora had created, they would need fire to recharge the chips of [Shardite].

“Tell which is Trollsbane,” Elaise demanded.

Keeping her sharp eyes on Elaise, she reached out to the purple-flowered vine and then stopped. Was that a twitch of a frown? As she reached toward the violet flowers, she saw it again.

Without missing a beat, Elora continued on as if she never intended to grab either of those vines. Once her hand hovered over a vine accented with blue flowers the barbarian gave the slightest widening of her eyes.

Of course, she would be surprised that Elora would remember. Technically, she didn’t remember. But Elaise didn’t need to know that. Elvish perceptiveness had its uses.

Elora placed her hand on the vine with blue flowers. “This is Trollsbane.”

Elaise gave an approving nod when Elora placed her hand fully on the vine. “Lowlander listens,” she said. “Is miracle.” She was about to say something else when a wet sloshing sound erupted ahead of a screen of smaller cart-sized trees.

The barbarian vanished before Elora’s eyes.

How does she do that?

A moment later Elaise appeared high up on a wide mossy branch. Elora hurried to her side, crossing the ground with hardly a whisper and scaling the tree as fast as any lizard might.

Without looking at Elora, the barbarian pointed at the source of the noise. A rising monstrosity of at least a dozen dark green vine-like appendages that supported a maw which bisected its flat, oval-shaped head.

Its mouth was filled with three rows of sharp black teeth. Lines of venomous spittle stretched and gleamed between the rows of serrated teeth in the low light of the swamp.

“You wish to know more of Black Lands?” Elaise jerked her chin toward the creature, a Morbolger. “Show that you can use knowledge given and I will give more.”

“Alone?” Elora asked, incredulous. The Morbolger was at least ten feet tall.

“Is baby,” Elaise said. “Easy.”

Looking at the massive creature, swaying its arm-length green feelers atop its head, Elora wasn’t so sure.

If this was another test, it was one she was determined to pass with flying colors. With a look down at Komachi’s sleeping form, she dismissed the pobul to her familiar haven where she would be safe from all harms.

Unslinging her bow from her shoulder, Elora went over everything she could remember about Morbolgers. As she pulled an arrow from her quiver, she was unsurprised to find that the barbarian had just up and vanished, leaving her alone on the branch.

She didn’t doubt that the woman was somewhere nearby watching, ready to wade in should she need to pull Elora from danger. But that wasn’t going to happen. Nocking an arrow, Elora took aim and sighted her shot.

99

Hal woke to a beam of sunlight angled straight at his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he slept so deeply or so profoundly. Despite the manner in which it occurred - he instantly remembered Komachi’s sleeping spell - he couldn’t argue the effects.

He felt more rested than he had in a long time.

You gain the effect of Well Rested.

+4% Experience Points gained.

+4% Skill Experience Points gained.

+4% HP | +4% SP | +4% MP.

+4% HP Regeneration.

+4% SP Regeneration.

+4% MP Regeneration.

Duration: 8hrs.

For once the buff wasn’t going to vanish after he managed to eat breakfast.

With a groan, Hal dragged himself out of bed and mentally prepared himself for the day ahead. Work was progressing swifter than he ever thought it would on their defenses.

Even without Hal supplementing their wooden stores with bone, they would have the entire gap sealed up with strong Palisade walls well before the coming threat.

Hal found himself the lone occupant of the wagon. Even Vorax had gone out on his daily peace mission of finding new monster allies for the Settlement. Stretching out the kinks in his muscles, Hal looked around the wagon and could almost envision what it would be like to finally have a home of his own.

Even his own room would be such a massive improvement.

Then he remembered that the wagons were a ticking time bomb of lowered morale. If even he could begin feeling the effects of being cramped in the wagons, he could only imagine how the rest of the Guild was feeling.

As Hal got ready for the day, he settled the chain with its chip of red [Shardite] on his head and stepped out into the bright morning light. The air was crisp and frigid. His breath came out in white puffs.

He froze a moment when he looked toward the center of the circled wagons. Somebody had been busy.

Canvas was stretched out in long bands, providing shelter from the elements in long wide swaths of shadow. Low, wide braziers burned to provide a steady warmth to those without the magical accessories.

And for those that did have them, each brazier sported a series of small metal poles no thicker around than Hal’s thumb. Each pole held multiple curved protrusions that people hung their [Shardite] charm on to recharge from the cheery fire.

Tables had been set up overnight or early that morning and people sat around and along long wooden benches. No more small tables with people clustered around chairs.

It looked like a ramshackle dining hall. There was talking and laughter, boisterous dwarven singing broke out more than once. A sense of purpose and drive filled the air.

And at the far side, a small outdoor kitchen had been set up. People queued up in front of it to receive their breakfast from a central location instead of each group making their own meals.

It usually took them hours to get through breakfast and organizing the supplies was troublesome to say the least. Hal spotted a crumpled, white chef’s hat sitting atop Horald’s head, their Master Chef recently put in charge of the Settlement’s meals.

His customary white puff of hair stuck out all around the rim of it so it seemed like the hat was sitting atop a cloud rather than his head.

Meandering over to the back of the line, Hal watched with great curiosity as small serving trays were stacked ahead of him. The dwarf in front of him took one and the line moved forward one.

The whole process of getting a tray, getting his breakfast, and finding a seat took less than five minutes. When Horald looked up over the young man who was serving Hal, Milas he thought his name was, the chef pushed the younger man out of the way and personally gave Hal a helping of eggs and bacon.

“You should not have waited in line!” he cried out. “You… you never need wait in line, sir.” Horald placed a trembling hand on his white smock. “That you would see fit to give me command of a kitchen once more… to put me to work in such a lofty position. Truly I am grateful to carry on my life’s passion. Thank you, a thousand times, thank you.”

Hal awkwardly balanced the tray on one hand while Horald reached out and shook his hand eagerly. He had no idea the man’s disposition would change so much.

Noth spotted him and waved him over to her side of the bench. She scooted over to give him ample room to sit and he placed his tray down. “Is this how people usually eat?” she asked him.

“I would like to see an actual mess hall or something like that,” Hal said honestly. The few dwarves around him turned to regard his response and nodded eagerly as if urging him on. He did his best not to roll his eyes as he added, “And a tavern of course.”

That was met with a raucous series of hoots and gleeful table pounding.

Ducking her head, a curtain of dark curls obscuring her face and her plate, Noth said, “I like it quite a lot.”

“It is much improved from what I thought it would be,” Hal admitted. “But I agree with you. I like it too.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind one of her long tipped ears, Noth smiled.

They ate together, sometimes joining in the conversation around them and sometimes talking of what they planned for the day. Noth seemed eager to head back to the gap and work with Hal again.

“I have never before done manual labor,” she admitted quietly. Saying something like that out loud was practically a sin in dwarven culture and Noth had learned enough from the sturdy folk to recognize the social stigma of crossing that line.

“It is so… freeing,” she said with a hint of wonder to her golden eyes. She stabbed at the remains of her scrambled egg. “I worried that my contributions would be nearly worthless considering….”

“Considering what?” Hal asked. He was trying to be polite, eating only between conversation but the food was delicious even if it was simple eggs, bacon, and some dried fruit with a cup of water.

Her narrow shoulders hunched. “I know nothing of building. Only destruction. I feared that I… perhaps could not learn Construction. I was very pleased to learn that I could. I want to make something here, Hal. Something that is befitting of your dream.”

That got Hal’s attention. He put down his fork and looked over at her. “What do you mean? If you have an idea for something you would like to see made, please tell me, Noth. I can’t decide every little building that gets put up.”

She glanced at him a widening smile on her face that made her eyes sparkle. “I was thinking that once… far in the future when everything is safe, that we might make a Mage College or some place of learning the magical arts. I know much of the darker aspects of things and I would show people to use them instead of fearing them.

“I would like to see this place become one of refuge as you said, for people who are persecuted. And the darker arts have long since been persecuted and misunderstood I have come to learn. It would… it would make me feel good to be able to contribute my own knowledge.”

It touched him that Noth wanted to impart a part of her past life with those around her. That she wanted to share the magic that, quite frankly, Hal didn’t understand.

Aside from his own magic, he didn’t have a very firm grasp on how most magic worked on Aldim.

“That sounds like an incredible idea,” Hal agreed. “I would love to see this place become a seat of learning. We might even be able to make a renaissance for magic and understanding. But we have a long way to go before we can start with that.”

“I know, but we have time,” Noth said, giving him a coy look.

“So long as we survive the coming storm,” Hal agreed. He didn’t miss the tone of her voice. Now that the pair were functionally immortal, they had decades to plan for a city that would grow up around them and slowly fill in the valley.

Hal looked around and noticed Noth was already doing the same. From these humble beginnings, they would lay the foundation for something truly great.

He could hardly wait. It took a real effort to remind himself that they had a list of things to do a thousand miles long and not that much time to see them all completed.

They were about to finish their breakfast when a prompt rolled up into Hal’s vision. Despite expecting it ever since he woke up, it still came as a surprise.

Though it was a very welcome one.

Construction on the Town Hall has completed.

100

“The Town Hall is ready,” Hal said with a grin.

“The dwarves must have woken early to see it done so soon,” Noth replied, finishing up her breakfast. Her eyes flashed open and glazed slightly as if she too was reading a prompt. “Hal… finish your food.”

The Beastborne looked over with a curious arch to his brow but with a shrug finished the last of his meal. It was hardly a difficult thing to do.

He realized what had so distracted her, because a moment later he received the same notification.

You eat [Hearty Breakfast Scramble].

+10% HP | +10% SP | +10% MP.

+10% HP Regeneration | +10% SP Regeneration | +10% MP Regeneration.

Duration: 24hrs.

Hal turned to look at Noth who was grinning back at him.

“I take it from your stunned expression that this is not normal,” Noth said.

He could only shake his head. Is this what they were missing out on all this time? Most food seemed to last only 8 hours. If Horald’s cooking could make a full day’s worth of a buff, the man just secured himself as the head chef for the entire Guild in perpetuity.

Hopping up from his bench, Hal looked at Noth with a grin. “Want to go check out the Town Hall?”

“You didn’t need to ask,” she replied, getting up and joining him.

Their steps were buoyed by the day-long buff. On the way out, they both gave their compliments to the chef who bobbed and seemed incredibly flustered. Though neither of them could mistake the way his spine straightened in obvious pride.

The Town Hall was easily visible from the caravan. Already several early-risers were milling about the recently finished construction site. Hal easily spotted Donks Hammertoes with his blonde beard and bright green eyes among the rest of the dwarves.

He spotted Hal, flashed his white teeth, and waved him over.

“You’ve done an amazing job,” Hal said sincerely.

The Town Hall looked splendid. It was only a single story tall but it was exceedingly well made with stone fitted so tightly that Hal could well imagine that the hall would stand for generations to come without the slightest bit of maintenance.

A tower of stone, a small clocktower actually by the looks of it, rose up over the entrance. He was about to ask if the clock worked when he watched one of the large beaten-bronze hands tick forward.

The way they caught the morning sun and burst into a glory of shimmering light made them easily visible no matter where you were. The Town Hall had been made facing south, toward the gap and so the sun that rose over the eastern Cliffside would set the hands of that clock afire all day long.

It was truly beautiful.

“Ye like that, do ye?” Donks asked, his voice as proud as any father’s. “Had one o’ me friends whip that up. Might’n be ye know him. Name o’ Crag McDervish.”

Hal nodded. He knew the Goldsmith all right. He suspected that Crag was also Elora’s dwarven crafter for the [Shardite] accessories that nearly everybody was now wearing.

“Have you gone inside?” Hal asked.

The dwarf shook his shaggy head. “I’m not fer robbin’ ye of that pleasure, lad! Only went inside to see to the construction. Yerself the first one who gets the honors.”

“Thank you,” Hal said sincerely.

This was just the first building of many, but it was an important one. A Town Hall gave 10% more EP generation and 5% more Morale. Now that the Settlement type was an encampment, the Town Hall’s Morale boost would not only increase everybody’s CP for days yet, but would go a long way toward staving off a severe negative Morale crash.

Hal stepped up to the threshold and looked at Noth. In deference to him, she stayed one step back. “Get up here,” Hal said with a shake of his head at her foolishness. “You have earned this.” Over his shoulder, he pitched his voice for Donks. “You too Donks. We’re going in together.”

The dwarf’s eyes went wide as saucers. They opened the sturdy wooden doors together. You would never have known that dwarves weren’t skilled carpenters from the way the wooden doors opened with the slightest effort and swung inward without a sound.

The doors were beautiful and polished to a glowing sheen. This was far and away better than anything Hal could have hoped for.

Once he was inside the cool interior, a prompt appeared.

[Town Hall]

A Town Hall’s function is a direct reflection of its owner’s needs. Town Halls can be made to be places of relaxation and rest for those weary from long days working. Or they can be made into offices for the procurement of permits, the distribution and administration of workforces. And anything in between. The setting you choose dictates the additional bonuses provided.

Each major advancement of the settlement can either have another wing of the Town Hall constructed to take up a specific purpose or increase the strength of the Town Hall’s current designation.

Current Effects

EP Generation: +13% (+3% From superior building materials).

Morale: +6.5% (+1.5% From superior building materials).

Administration Building

Provides a space for administrative workers and the associated documents needed in order to properly supervise a settlement’s growth and organization.

+7% Workforce efficiency.

-5% Morale.

Recreation Building

Provides a space for recreation workers and the required storage of spirits, food, and games for residents to enjoy and relax.

-5% Workforce efficiency.

+7% Morale.

Office of Defense

Similar to the Administrative Building, the Office of Defense allows for proper record keeping of all individuals who would play a part in defense of the settlement. It organizes their recruitment, status, and training.

+7% Combat Skill gain.

-5% Morale.

Cartographer’s Office

Creating an office dedicated specifically to the mapping and discovery of nearby areas, the Cartographer’s Office keeps detailed records of maps and locations of the surrounding land.

+10% Influence range.

+5% Hidden location discovery.

The Cartographer’s Office was the only one without any negatives but the positives were less than the others as well.

“The Administrative Office designation for the Town Hall has a Morale penalty,” Hal mused aloud.

“Ain’t nobody like paperwork, son,” Donks chortled. “Just look at ‘er. She’s a thing o’ beauty, she is. Burstin’ with potential. What’re ye gonna make her into?” The blonde dwarf turned to Hal, and his bright curious eyes were only mirrored by Noth’s.

This would be an important decision that would no doubt have long-reaching consequences. He wasn’t entirely sure what workforce efficiency was, but he could guess enough.

With an Administration Building, the settlement would be well-organized. But people, as Donks so clearly put it, dislike paperwork. It would completely remove the Morale gain of a Town Hall in the first place.

Well, not completely. Upon further inspection, it seemed building the Town Hall with better construction materials gave it a larger boost.

Rather than the assumed 10% EP Generation and 5% Morale, it was roughly 30% better than the base stats at 13% and 6.5% respectively.

Despite having hoped that using better materials would give a different or greater boost, he hadn’t expected it. It came as a pleasant surprise all the same.

So no matter what he chose, there would be at least a 1.5% Morale boost. Not much, but better than nothing. Maybe once a designation was selected, that too would receive the 30% boost the Town Hall’s stats had gained.

Out of all the Settlement stats so far, Morale seemed the most effective. It managed everything from the general disposition of the citizens to EP generation and had a heavy hand in the amount of CP people could make.

Obviously, a happy population was a productive one.

As such, Hal couldn’t rightly turn away from a Recreation Building. His people were working hard to claim this land as their own. 7% more CP would go a long way with so many projects still to be completed.

The other buildings seemed nice. He particularly liked the Cartographer’s Office, if only because the mapping portion seemed interesting to him. But he had his own Exploration skill for that.

Right when he finalized his decision, a glare of light erupted from the center of the empty room. In a flash that left each of the three observers blinking spots from their eyes, the interior of the Town Hall was changed.

Where there was once empty dressed stone walls and bare wooden beams overhead, there were now kegs, tables, hanging lanterns, and a dozen other items that simply appeared.

“Woah,” Noth said, looking at the changed room. The walls were the same, the floor and ceiling, even the windows. But it looked completely different.

“Ye made us a bleedin’ tavern!” Donks said. He pumped his fist in the air, hooted, and turned on his heels to spread the word.

All before Hal could explain that it wasn’t a tavern.

101

Hal looked over to the wide polished stone bar behind which a row of kegs and a dozen shelves of bottled liquor waited. The feeling as he looked over the place was bittersweet.

It reminded him of Giel and his cozy tavern, the Gone Goose.

“We’re going to need a bartender,” Hal said, a bit of weariness crept into his voice.

Noth gave him a concerned look. “You do not seem very pleased,” she pointed out.

“Giel.” It was all he needed to say.

Noth placed a hand on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I am sorry about his passing.”

There wasn’t time to mourn a friend that was already grieved. Besides, the Town Hall didn’t really look like Gone Goose. The latter was far larger and even if it had a few stains and broken boards here or there, it was nicely decorated.

While the Town Hall was undeniably beautiful - and Hal wasn’t going to complain that they didn’t need to furnish it - it lacked the refinement that Giel’s establishment had.

This place was not meant to be a full-blown tavern, but rather a community gathering spot. Two larger rooms flanked the central chamber, each with different items in them.

The first, on the left, held a couple of pool tables and some dartboards. A few tables with simple wooden seats had game boards for things like chess, checkers, go, and many others he didn’t recognize.

On the right was a series of padded seats and cushioned benches all facing a miniature stage crammed into the corner. It vaguely reminded Hal of the bohemian coffee shops that once seemed so prevalent in his neighborhood back on Earth.

The thought of coffee made him groan. He hadn’t had a drop of the stuff since coming to Aldim and though he was far from addicted to the drink, he missed it.

Maybe with the dwarven connections he was amassing he could find a way to get it again. Barring that, maybe there was some natural wild-grown coffee in the Shiverglades. If that was even a thing. He didn’t know the first thing about coffee cultivation or even where it was from aside from vague recollection of “in the mountains.”

It was a long shot and definitely not one that was a priority, whatever the case.

But he resolved to ask Elaise about it when he saw the elusive barbarian again. Barring that, whenever he came across one of the Rangers.

Hal took a look at the building’s information and gaped. He had, unfortunately, been wrong about the 30% improvement also applying to the building’s designation.

It only seemed to apply to the base building. It made a certain amount of sense. The designation was, in some ways, magical in nature. Furniture and items simply appeared. Whereas the actual building had to be constructed.

[Town Hall: Recreation]

Effects

EP Generation: +13% (+3% From superior building materials).

Morale: +13.5% (+1.5% From superior building materials).

-5% Workforce efficiency.

Altogether, it was still a bigger improvement for his Settlement than he had looked for. With any luck, they might actually be Morale neutral by the time the Founder’s Day buff wears off.

Provided they survived that long.

With that potent reminder, Hal turned to Noth. “To the gap?”

She nodded. “It’ll help clear your mind,” she said, dragging Hal around and out of the Town Hall. “If there is one thing I have seen again and again in my long life, Hal, it is that you cannot save everyone.”

Hal looked at her blankly. Noth rarely opened up about her past.

The erstwhile Reaper seemed to take that look for doubt because as she pulled him along into the colorless morning light, she said, “Knights, kings, queens, all of them - the kind-hearted at least - believe it is their sole responsibility to lift everybody up on their shoulders.

“Do you know what that often leads to Hal? I shall give you a guess. It has much to do with how I met these people.” Noth held up a single finger as she spoke, letting go of his arm after she realized they had been walking for some time.

“It killed them,” Hal answered automatically.

“Yes, Hal. They died, trying to save one more soul. How many deaths did they cause by that single act? Had they learned to live with the guilt, with the worry, they would have stayed alive. That, is the burden of a true leader.

“Is rushing into that burning building - likely at the cost of your own life - worth it to save the single person inside? Even after you saved dozens already? And, in all likelihood would go on to save dozens more?”

They wound their way down a beaten dirt path the karaks used to drag materials to the construction sites, this one bearing them south toward the gap. “Some would argue that is what a hero does,” Hal said.

Noth sniffed disdainfully at that. “Those that throw their life away and call it heroics do not value their life much to begin with.”

Hal shrugged, not because he didn’t agree but because he had heard something to that effect before. “A man that does not value his life sells it for cheap,” he repeated.

That earned him a slight grin from Noth.

“But,” Hal added. “I am not mortal. Not anymore. Losing my life is now an inconvenience. And that tips the scales of whether or not it is worth it to throw my life away far in the other direction.

“What goodly person could say that it was not worth a broken bone or a few days convalescing in bed to save another’s life? Without that act, one that I will surely recover from, a life is simply gone. And there are… other reasons to look to such acts of heroics.”

Clearly just about to ask him what he meant, Noth opened her mouth to speak but her words were lost as a ragged shout erupted from the south. They were nearly at the gap, and whatever was causing the commotion was on the other side of the defenses being constructed.

The pair exchanged a look, and then took off to the south.

Hal Spliced aberration and eldritch, rolling fumes of electrified blood-red mist came off his body. He drew [Emissary] from the sheath at his hip and using Convergence, soon caught up to Noth’s burst of speed.

The woman had her scythe out and at the ready, a look of anticipatory elation on her face. The thrill of battle after the recent quiet was particularly enticing. And Hal knew that he had the same expression on his face.

Extending a party invitation to Noth, the Dark Knight quickly accepted.

Together, they rushed up the sloping Earthen Bulwark and leaped down to the other side. Mid-air, they assessed the threats. Two dwarves were laid out on the ground, and another pair of dwarves - with many more rushing to the battle - were facing off against the strangest monster Hal had ever seen so far.

It was all green tentacles and writhing root-like vines that supported a flat oval head. Several rows of black teeth neatly bisected the head. A hundred smaller feelers twisted and writhed atop its green skin.

Supported by no less than a dozen writhing vines or tentacles, it moved with surprising alacrity and whipped out one such vine at the nearest dwarf who only had a hammer to defend himself.

Dwarves were not cowards, however, and so it was hardly a surprise when the dwarf roared back at the sightless thing’s approach. Standing nearly twelve feet tall and with a head half as wide, it could easily swallow two or more dwarves whole.

And yet the dwarf stood over his downed comrade protectively. Right up until the vine smacked him back into the half-constructed Palisade wall with a bone-rattling impact.

As Hal landed, knees bent to absorb the impact - Hal’s eldritch-fueled Convergence absorbing the shock his legs would have struggled with - the creature turned on the lone dwarf still standing.

It drew in its breath, a great rush of air pulled the long blades of grass toward it and nearly pulled the lone dwarf off his wide-set feet.

A moment later Hal saw the glowing orange of Premonition in a wide twenty-foot-wide cone. Right where the dwarf stood vigil over one of the unconscious workers.

A green putrid miasma spewed forth from the creature’s maw. A reek like no other nearly made Hal wretch. Noth gagged next to him on the noisome odor. The dwarf, however, fared much worse.

He swayed, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head as the fumes assaulted him. The creature glided toward the paralyzed dwarf. The way it glided on its dozens of vine-like tentacles was unnerving.

The creature flowed toward the dwarf just as Hal and Noth reached it. Noth leaped into the air, her black scythe raised high above her head.

Hal, sword leading, conjured Goblin Rush to harry the creature and hopefully distract it from its helpless prey.

The shadowy image of a rushing goblin struck out several times at the passing creature, drawing deep gouges in its green hide that leaked a foul sap.

It turned at once, managing to pivot its large bulk in an instant to round on Hal. He skidded to a halt and threw himself to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing pair of vines that stretched out from its body and dented the soft ground where Hal was a moment ago.

Just as Hal got to his feet, he saw the blades of grass drift away from him and felt the rush of air pull at his [Shaper’s Coat]. He looked up just in time to see the orange light of Premonition surrounding him in a cone.

102

Even with his Convergence enhanced speed, Hal knew he wasn’t fast enough to get out of range in time. But that didn’t stop him from trying. Everything seemed to slow down to a crawl.

For the briefest moment, Noth hung motionless in the air, her body arched back to deliver a powerful scything blow to the creature who was wholly focused on Hal.

Pouring on every bit of strength he had, Hal leaped to the side and scrambled away as fast as he possibly could.

Somehow, he got out of range but only just.

The [Morbolger | Lv.40] uses Bad Breath.

The grass withered and died where Hal had been. A moment later, Noth’s scythe connected and the world seemed to lurch forward.

It took him a moment to realize it was his new perk, Preternatural Dodge, taking effect.

Noth’s scythe cleaved clean through the upper half of its head and she would have continued the downward stroke if not for the trunk-thick vines that snapped out at her.

Using the scythe embedded in the creature as a pivot point, she twisted and kicked off its body, leaving the scythe within. Performing a graceful backflip over the swiping vines she landed no less than five feet from Hal.

Extending her hand, she called back her scythe. The Morbolger flailed and let loose a hideous screeching sound that filled the space around them. Her black scythe ripped through the creature and pulled itself free, harkening to her silent call.

Just as the scythe slapped into her waiting palm, Hal summoned forth Bomb Toss. Mana swirled and condensed in his upraised hand, taking the shape of a cobbled-together goblin-made bomb.

He chucked it at the wide-open mouth of the Morbolger. He suspected it was a plantoid and as such, would likely be weak to fire.

As the Bomb Toss exploded in a fiery conflagration within the creature’s mouth, Hal understood his mistake.

He was wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Not only did the fire seem to deal almost no damage to the creature, but whatever accounted for the thing’s blood was highly flammable.

In no time at all, it burst into flames. A twelve-foot-tall abomination of burning hatred slithered toward them. The flames hardly seemed to bother the frightening creature.

Hal wasted no time in casting Feather Barrier and spreading it to Noth with Empathy. Blocking those flaming limbs would hurt almost as much as getting hit with them.

Noth looked slowly at Hal, her face incredulous.

“I didn’t know!” he replied, just before a flaming double-slam of vines forced the two farther apart.

“No more fire, Hal!” Noth cried out.

The pair dove and rolled to get away from the burning vines that lashed out from every angle. The heat was intense and though Hal was partially resistant to fire, they still hurt when one came too close and blistered his skin.

Dwarves ringed the scene, scrambling about to put on armor and join in on the fighting. No strangers to the dangers of fire, the dwarves weren’t stupid enough to rush in and set themselves - and their very flammable beards - ablaze.

Instead, as Hal and Noth kept the Morbolger’s attention focused solely on them, the dwarves were able to rescue their fallen brethren.

Deeply wishing he had a water aspected spell, Hal lunged forward and cast Divebomb. The shadowy visage of a diving bird of prey lunged at the Morbolger. Temporarily confused by the image, the creature swatted at the spell, its twin flaming flails swept through the air harmlessly.

“This is going to florking suck,” Hal muttered under his breath. He knew what he needed to do. After witnessing how little damage his spells did - aside from the horror show that was Bomb Toss - there were really only two options.

He could hack away at it, all the while the thing would be aflame and hurting him. Or he could get close enough to finally use Soul Drain. Dominate wasn’t much of an option.

Without any other monsters nearby, and the strength of this creature, he didn’t want to spend the steep EXP cost.

Hal took a deep breath, just as the Morbolger did the same. His eyes widened in surprise. He shouted a warning to Noth and poured on every ounce of speed he could.

Rather than run away, as the Morbolger assumed he would, he cut a path at an angle to the creature, getting closer. As he neared, and the orange light of Premonition lit up below his feet, his hope was confirmed.

Being a conical-shaped ability, the Morbolger’s breath attack covered more area the farther out a person stood from the creature. Up close, near it’s massive - truly terrifying - six-foot-wide maw of serrated black teeth, the attack was barely a foot wide.

Throwing himself into a roll, Hal came up and around the side of the flaming creature. Oppressive heat rolled off the Morbolger but that was nothing compared to the stream of flaming breath that rushed out, singing Hal’s coat even though he was at least a foot away from the attack.

The Morbolger’s Bad Breath became Napalm Breath and coated a wide swath of grass in burning goo. Had the dwarves not already saved their fellows, they likely would have burned alive.

With a yell that was more to steel his resolve than anything else, Hal lunged forward. His right hand drove [Emissary] to the hilt into one of the thick flaming vines that supported the creature like some crazed plant-based octopus.

His other hand slapped hard against the flames and pressed to the creature’s sturdy flesh. The flames bit and scorched his hand. He screamed. He burned. But he held on.

The Morbolger tried to lift him by raising the vine into the air, but Hal had prepared for that. [Emissary], driven into the Morbolger’s flesh, acted like an anchor that kept Hal in contact with the creature.

Awareness blossomed in his mind and for a scant second, he was without pain. The Morbolger’s essence was there for the taking. He understood how to use Soul Drain to drain the Morbolger’s considerable VIT, its STR, even its HP.

But Hal wanted none of those.

With a grimace against the resurgence of agony, Hal found what he was looking for. The Morbolger wasn’t immune to fire, only highly resistant. Enough that the creature could likely stay on fire long enough for it to leave their Settlement, find a pool, and leisurely dunk itself to put out the flames.

A vine cracked against his back and he felt the air rush out of his lungs. Another vine smacked against him taking 7% of his HP off in a bone-cracking smack.

It took time to lock onto the Morbolger’s resistance to fire, but once Hal did he pulled on it with all of his might. If the Morbolger understood what Hal was doing, it didn’t show it.

Bit by bit, what felt like an eternity of torture to Hal, the Morbolger’s fire resistance was drained away into Hal.

As Hal drained half of the creature’s resistance it began to notice the flames. Rather than attacking Hal, the Morbolger began to frantically swat at the flames that hungrily ate at its now susceptible flesh.

The fire that had once burned and scorched Hal’s skin began to feel soothing and gentle. Morbolger flesh that was green and plump withered, crackled, and turn to ash before the onslaught of the ravenous flames.

Every point of fire resistance that Hal pulled away caused the already rampant flames to do the work of ten men. The Morbolger let loose another hideous screech, and Hal felt a sudden inrush of air.

He redoubled his efforts, draining every last bit of the creature’s fire resistance as fast as he could.

Angling its head down at Hal, the Morbolger breathed liquid flame all over him.

It should have burned him to ash. His flesh should have melted. The way Noth screamed bloody murder told him that, to any bystanders, he looked to be consumed by the Napalm Breath.

But it didn’t hurt. As Hal drained away its fire resistance, something funny happened.

When the Morbolger’s 98 fire resistance was added to Hal’s 25, it added up to more than 100 fire resistance. And as each point ticked up above 100, the Napalm Breath began to heal Hal.

The creature died, consumed by its own flames. And, inadvertently, its last act of defiance not only failed to hurt Hal, but it healed him back to full HP.

Sitting at 123 fire resistance, Hal felt his burns and blisters close up as swiftly as if somebody had just cast a healing spell on him.

You defeat the [Morbolger | Lv.40]

You gain 1,300 Experience points (+4%).

You earn 130 Sparks.

You absorb 25 Morbolger Essence.

Your Evasion has risen to Level 15.

+1% Evasion speed (+15%).

-1% Stamina cost (-15%).

+2% Time decay (+6%).

Your Beast Magic has risen to Level 25.

+3% Beast Magic potency (+75%).

-2% MP cost (-10%).

The Morbolger collapsed to the side, a desiccated husk of cinder and ash. Hal stepped out of the fumes, his [Shaper’s Coat] still smoldering with patches of flame licking up the sleeves.

More than one voice gasped at his sudden appearance. Noth’s head whipped to the side and before Hal could sort out what was wrong, she lunged at him.

The last thing he saw was her raven black hair flaring out behind her and a pair of wide, vulnerable golden eyes shining with unshed tears before they collided.

Her lips crushed against his, and all thoughts of the Morbolger fled from his mind as his arms came around to wrap her in a tight embrace.

103

Noth’s collision nearly bowled Hal over, but it was the kiss that stole his strength. He only took a moment to return it, full-force.

All of the words left unsaid, the stolen glances, coy smiles, and hope that Hal didn’t dare let into his heart came out in a rush of heat and passion. He lifted her up and spun her about in the air to the cheer and whooping of several nearby dwarves surprised by the spectacle. A few shouted out, “Finally!”

“If yer done teasin’ the lass’s beard, we got ourselves a little green problem that needs sorting,” Durvin said, his voice unusually gruff.

They broke apart - reluctantly - and turned to look at the dwarf beside them. Out of the corner of Hal’s eye, he was treated to the fierce glare Noth leveled Durvin’s way.

It was hardly a surprise when even the battle-hardened dwarf shrank under that golden glare. He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at Noth.

Hal couldn’t resist smiling at Noth. They each kept an arm around each other while turning to face Durvin more fully. “What do you mean, this isn’t the first Morbolger that’s assaulted the wall?” Hal asked.

“Got a few of ‘em up and down the wall,” Durvin motioned to the large stains of green on his butterfly axe sticking up over his left shoulder. “Seems our buildin’ is attractin’ the buggers. An’ ye got the Rangers scrounging up food and finding sources o’ wood and ore.”

Durvin scratched his beard and gave the pair a sidelong look. “Yerselves make a fine addition to the Ironspine Band,” he started to say, but Hal raised a hand to forestall him.

“But you would like us to see what’s going on,” Hal interrupted. “Considering the amount of work that still needs to be done, and the recent increase in everybody’s Construction skill, we aren’t needed quite as much.”

“Don’t ye go shovin’ yer words in me mouth, boy! I ain’t fer sayin’ all that! Keep yer hands on that fine lass, lest she get bored o’ ye! All’s I’m saying is it wouldn’t go amiss, if ye were to look into where them green wriggly-wraggler’s are comin’ from.”

“Up for a little adventure?” Hal asked Noth.

The woman’s cheeks were still high with color but they seemed to darken an even deeper shade as she smiled and nodded. “Always,” came her reply.

Once the pair were alone, walking through a glade to the north with the sun nearly at its zenith above their heads, Noth turned to look at Hal. She had been quiet ever since agreeing to this excursion.

“Hal?” she asked. Something in her voice, an unsteadiness perhaps, caught Hal’s attention so fully that he stopped walking. Noth’s expression was open and vulnerable when she added, “Was that improper?”

Hal burst out laughing, and just to make sure that Noth didn’t get the wrong impression he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “No,” he said emphatically, once his laughter had subsided. “Not at all, Noth. That was braver than me. I should have done that days ago.”

Noth angled her head to look into Hal’s eyes. “I might have hurled you across the room, if you had,” she said with a tinkling laugh. “But when I saw you get covered in that burning pitch… I realized how much you meant to me. It didn’t even dawn on me to look at the party menu to see if you were really hurt.

“My eyes believed what they had seen and I felt a piece of my heart wither at the sight….”

“Noth…” Hal said, squeezing her tighter.

“I could not stand to think of you hurt, or gone from me, even knowing that it would be temporary.” Noth gripped Hal tighter, almost painfully so. When she spoke next her voice broke on every word. “Don’t you know how much you mean to me?”

Returning the hug in kind, Hal said, “I do now. And I want you to know that you mean just as much to me. I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you. I have come to rely on your presence, your gentle soul. We are bonded in more ways than either of us probably knows. I do not think it is normal for a Manatree to bestow its gift upon two people at once.”

Dashing her hand across her face to clear the moistness from her eyes, Noth pulled back and laughed a little. “Emotions are hard.”

Hal joined her in her laugh and nodded his agreement. “They are tricky for the most experienced of people. There is no shame if they get the better of you from time to time. After all, that is what it means to be alive. Nothing is static or certain, it’s part of the fun.”

Noth’s doubting expression turned curious, then pensive as she thought over those words. When she let go of Hal and they resumed walking to the north, she said, “I pity my sisters.”

Hal kept an eye out for the few keinse that he knew would hang out south of Orrittam’s cave. If they were going to scout for the source of the Morbolgers, it would be best to do so with eyes in the sky.

Besides, Hal had other plans once they were out there. With Noth’s help, and the constant surveillance of the keinse overhead, Hal could place a few traps in anticipation for the coming attack.

And if it helped to stymie the creatures that were slowly coming to realize that the Shiverglades had uninvited guests, all the better.

“Why do you say that?” Hal asked, craning his neck up. He thought he saw a keinse but realized it was just a shadow of the canopy.

“They know nothing of this,” she said, reaching down and interlocking her fingers with Hal’s. She let go a moment later, even in the relative safety of the valley, there were still wild animals. Threats, however minor, that they both would do well to be able to defend themselves.

They were hardly a pair of kids out for a stroll.

Hal smiled at her. “But like you were, are they not content to have that existence?”

He remembered quite well how antagonistic Noth had been when she first became mortal through Hal’s actions. He thought he was saving her. The guilt he had felt over harming her, of causing so much pain to her was oppressive.

There was no way he would not have tried to heal her. But he realized, he would have done it even if she wasn’t hurt. He had no idea of her sensibilities or her desire to stay as an unfeeling creature.

Feeling the cold hollow sensation of being ethereal as Noth had been… that was enough for him to feel pity for her. To want to help her to know a better way of life.

And he had done just that. But it wasn’t without a great deal of grief and complaint on Noth’s part. Something he could hardly blame her for. Emotions and the myriad annoyances of being mortal must have sorely tested her.

“Only because they do not understand what living really means,” Noth said. “They think, as I once wrongly thought, that they understand what it means to be alive. But what they have is a hollow, empty existence of duty and witness. Nothing more.

“They do not love. I do not think I had ever thought so much about life and other people as I have since I became mortal. I thought it was a curse at first. So many emotions, ‘so many things I must do to keep up this charade of life’ I thought to myself.

“I cursed your name more than once. And for that I… I feel shame and guilt. You were only trying to help me, and I hated you for it. I did not understand the gift that was given so freely and without desire for recompense. What would you have done if I demanded to leave?”

Hal rested a palm on the pommel of [Emissary] as he thought about that. “I would have let you go and wished you well,” he said honestly. “It would have pained me to see you leave, but I would not have somebody who didn’t want to be here forced into accompanying me.”

Noth stopped and stared at him, a dark cloud passing over her fair features. “You really would have just let me go, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, not precisely,” Hal corrected. “I would have made sure you had at least a karak and supplies. Unless you were adamant about it and blatantly refused help, I would have given you all that could be afforded so you would have a fighting chance. But I would have missed you.”

“Even back then?” Noth asked quietly.

“Even back then,” Hal said with a soft chuckle. “You could be a pain in the ash sometimes, but there was nobody I would rather spend my time with.”

104

Noth ducked her head and color warmed her high cheekbones. “I was dead before,” she admitted.

Hal’s curious raised eyebrow hardly seemed unexpected to her.

“Day in and day out I did the same task, lived the same life,” she answered his unasked question. “I took no risks, for none were afforded to me and I had no reason to seek them out. I craved the monotony of it all. The sameness, day after day.

“And what is death if not unending monotony? Sameness without reprieve. And yet, I was… not quite happy but I was invested in keeping the cycle going. Not for my sake but… because it was familiar. I was scared of the unknown. I knew my role, my place in things, and yet….”

“You feared what would happen if things changed,” Hal finished for her. “That your place would no longer be secure and you would be without purpose.”

Noth looked at Hal, a smirk playing across her fair features as she nodded her agreement. “Do you know there is a dwarven song about this very topic?”

That perked Hal up. “Do tell,” he said eagerly.

“It speaks of the sameness of every day and what I now understand to be an all too easy trap to fall into,” Noth explained. She cleared her throat and the voice that came out was not the typical bassy thrum of a barroom chant. Her voice was soft as a springtime breeze, clear as a golden bell, and sweet as summer rain.

“I swing my pick, I crack the stone.

The song I sing, is yesterday’s moan.

To Dagdamora’s halls I did not go.

So today my pick, I do not stow.

I swing my pick, I crack the stone.

The song I sing, guards me soul alone.”

Hal stared at her dumbfounded. It wasn’t just the haunting melody that she sang it in, it was the words she used. She spoke in dwarvish, and somehow he understood her.

“Sorry,” she said shaking her head as her dark curls bounced about. “You probably didn’t understand a word of that. It is about-”

“Doing the same thing day after day because you didn’t die the day before, and that if you didn’t die yesterday for doing that same task, surely you won’t die today for repeating it,” Hal interrupted. “What other languages do you know?”

“Many,” she said, her brow furrowed as she regarded Hal curiously. “Know you the way north?”

Hal pointed. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I just spoke High Elvish,” Noth said with a smirk. “That’s interesting.”

“I’m fairly sure I’ve heard the dwarves talking and I didn’t understand them,” Hal said. “So what’s different?”

“Perhaps you can only understand me,” Noth suggested. She was about to say something more when a high-pitched squeak greeted them from the treetops.

“Hoy, looky here boyos!” Steve the keinse said as he swooped down to circle around Hal and Noth. “Chill and brisk today!”

“Very chill!” cried another keinse somewhere up above.

“Brisk as well!”

“Chilly and brisk!”

“Fine weather for a flight!”

“That’s what we were coming here to ask you about,” Hal said, trying to keep his eye on the circling bat-like keinse. “You remember the deal?”

“Sure do, sure do,” Steve said. “We help you, ol’ Shimmerscales stays happy and gold.”

“Gold!”

“Very gold!”

“Happy and stuck!” cried one keinse.

“Gary, we’ve talked about this,” Steve said, swerving to roost back among the high branches. “You know the big guy don’t like it when we talk about his situation.”

Keinse, it seemed, didn’t understand how to modulate their voices. Hal guessed when most people couldn’t understand them it didn’t matter. He looked at Noth and the woman shrugged her narrow shoulders.

For as scatterbrained as the keinse were, they quickly sorted out what Hal wanted from them and broke up into four distinct “clouds” as they called them.

Steve alone, it seemed, would fly above their heads close enough that he could hear the reports from the four clouds of keinse and relay their information to Hal.

They headed back toward the caravan shortly after, trailed by Steve the keinse high above. The four clouds of keinse spread far and wide until Hal could barely make them out. They would fly ahead while Hal gathered the rest of their party.

As much as he wanted to go out immediately with Noth and slay any creatures they came in contact with, that was an egregious waste of resources and time.

Two people, alone in a wilderness they did not understand, were just as likely to get ambushed or lost as to find their quarry. If not more so.

At the same time, as they approached the caravan, Hal was on the lookout for Ashera. He knew precisely who he was hoping to convince to join them.

After a little asking around, they found not one but two of the people Hal was looking for at the Town Hall. Now that it was designated as a recreation area, anybody not currently working - or those that were taking a break - were hanging out inside.

It wasn’t a large crowd thankfully. But it was enough people that Hal understood what it meant by lowering workforce efficiency. He didn’t blame them. And the increased Morale bonus more than made up for the slight loss.

Ashera had a small notepad, clearly doing inventory on the various drinks that magically appeared once the Town Hall was given its recreation designation.

Her back was to them, so she didn’t see either of them come in but she must have heard it. Several dwarves greeted the pair happily. More than one or two Hal recognized from the Ironspine Band, several of them sported bloodied bandages.

Hal couldn’t help but grin at that. They deserved some time off to rest and recuperate. More than that, he was glad they weren’t too badly hurt to enjoy some dwarven “holy water.”

Thankfully nobody had died, but it was a sharp reminder just how dangerous the Shiverglades were. Dwarves were far from weak and those of the Bouldergut Clan were no strangers to the dangers of the wilds.

That they were caught unawares was a troubling development.

Once they were back from their excursion, Hal had every intention of seeing if they could post lookouts up high on the ridges that made up the east and west walls of the gap.

He had no Building Schematics for a guard tower, or anything quite as fancy or specific as that. But he would ask around to see if anybody else did. Just because he didn’t specifically have the schematic did not mean he was prevented from building the thing.

So long as somebody else had the Building Schematic, they could create a copy for Hal or otherwise oversee the building of the structure and it would automatically be added to the Settlement’s list of schematics.

At Hal’s nod, Noth broke off to the side room to recruit their fourth party member while Hal approached the bar. The wooden barstool creaked as Hal sat down on it and leaned on the polished counter.

Ashera looked over her shoulder at him. He hated the look of quiet sorrow that had returned to her sea glass green gaze. “Come to take another task away from me?” she asked.

“I’m sorry about that, Ashera,” Hal said honestly. “Did they not report to you to oversee everything?” The words were for her benefit. Hal knew Ashera well enough to know that wasn’t the issue. But he was giving her the opportunity to explain herself.

“They did,” she said, then sighed and turned around. Ashera placed the notepad with her elegantly curling script on the counter between them. “I will not take a sinecure role, Hal. Horald had more than enough experience not to report to me and there was little I could do to make his task more efficient.

“I gave the role over to him as it should have been from the start. And instead, I found another role. One that I am good at, bookkeeping.”

Hal did well to suppress his sigh. This wasn’t going too different from how he thought it would. But it was still frustrating.

He was not going to give up on Ashera or her problem. He made a vow and even if other things necessitated that they had to be taken care of first, he was not going to leave her to her fate.

“Do you remember the Oath I made you?” he asked her.

It was a while ago, and a great deal had happened since the Manastorm they were caught in. The Oath of Compassion Hal had sworn between himself and Ashera was a solemn vow that Hal would get Ashera’s magic back.

Barring that, he would find another way to grant her the magic she was robbed of without incurring the penalties of acquiring a fourth Class. He meant to keep his Oath, even if it took him years.

And what better way to find a way to reunite Ashera with magic than by going out into the unknown wilds of the Shiverglades where the very air was thick with mana?

But he didn’t think that Ashera would ever forget. She would remember, even if she would never remind him.

Years could pass and still, Ashera would remember that vow. She would never bring it up, never prompt him. But she would never forget.

Hal could see the light of recognition in her eyes.

“I do,” she said softly.

“Come out with us,” he said. “You do not belong here. You want a role that befits your talents and is useful? Then come with me and help me protect our home.”

105

Ashera took a deep breath and Hal steeled himself for the rejection. For the ensuing argument he was cobbling together in the back of his mind.

To his great surprise, she released the gathered breath in a great sigh of defeat and said, “You will persist in this regardless of my choice, will you not?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Hal said with a boyish grin.

Despite herself, Ashera smiled in reply. “Very well, as I have no say in the matter I hardly see how I can say no. I have not the inexhaustible strength you have for turning others to my way.”

Hal extended her an invite to the party.

Your Persuasion has risen to Level 17.

+1% Persuasion success (+17%).

+0.5% Antagonistic persuasion success (+8.5%).

Ashera joins the party.

“How long do I have?” she asked.

“Meet us at the gap as soon as you’re able,” Hal said.

He caught Ashera looking disdainfully at her inventory notepad. The lamora straightened, tugged on her jacket, and swept out from behind the bar. “I will be there.”

Hal watched her leave with a straight back and purposeful stride. Whatever she might want others to believe, she enjoyed fighting. And clearly, she enjoyed having a purpose.

That was Hal’s hope. That out there amid the battle and fighting as they tried to find out a way to safeguard the workers, Ashera would remember she had a purpose that went beyond her ability to heal or her stolen skillset.

She was valued and wanted, even without her magic.

One member down, Hal turned to see Noth waving him over to a table with red felt and several billiard balls of various colors atop. It looked like a pool table but had strange squares and shapes drawn on the felt.

As Hal joined Noth and Angram, he looked curiously at the table. It was some cross between shuffleboard and pool.

Angram looked up at him. “Noth here tells me you want to go out hunting.”

“We need somebody who can track,” Hal agreed. “There are creatures coming out of the Shiverglades and I mean to find where they are coming from. The gap is not a massive location. They would have to seek it out.”

“Could this have something to do with the Guild Mission?” Angram asked as he lifted his pool cue and lined up a shot on the table.

“I don’t think it is, no.”

With a gentle tap on the cue ball, Angram sent the silver-streaked billiard ball into four others. They ricocheted around the padded surface until each of them came to rest on a square with a red diamond at its center.

A dwarf off to the side whistled in appreciation.

Angram set the pool cue across the table and leaned on it, examining his nails. “Maybe I’ll come along,” he said cagily. “Maybe not. Maybe I don’t like my Ranger skills being put to use looking for wood and stone.”

Noth snorted before Hal could say anything. “And out of this petulance you will give up the one chance to hunt monsters?” she asked, hands on her hips.

A look of alarm crossed Angram’s elegant elven features. His red eyes widened. “I didn’t say that!”

“Then what are you saying?” Hal asked him.

“Oh fine,” he grumbled. “I’m just messing with you anyway. But it wouldn’t be a bad idea to task the Rangers with something less mundane. My patience is exceedingly short compared to the others, but even they have their limits, Hal.”

“Duly noted,” Hal replied. “As soon as we return, I’ll give you complete control over the Rangers. You will choose the tasks they are responsible for and you can report to me about it at the end of each day.”

Angram’s eyes narrowed at him. “Wait… why does this feel like I was just given more work?”

“Who would know better what the Rangers are suited for - and would prefer to do - than one of their own?” Hal asked.

The Ranger snorted and picked up the pool cue. He put it away with the others in the corner and turned back to Hal, giving him a suspicious look. “I don’t like how much sense you’re making, my friend. But very well, if I must once more take upon the mantle of leader, I will do so.”

“Thank you,” Hal said with a wry grin. “I know how much of a sacrifice this must be for you, telling others what to do and having a perfectly viable excuse to sit and drink some of Ashera’s tea while you recount the day’s happenings.”

“I’m glad we understand each other,” Angram said. “So, what’re we killing?”

“Morbolgers,” Hal answered, tossing Angram an invite to the party and heading toward the door.

“Never heard of them.”

“You’ll love them.”

Noth shook her head as they exited the Town Hall.

Hal didn’t want to divert anybody else’s attention from their duties. And he knew well enough that everybody was tasked with something even if he didn’t directly hand out the order.

In fact, he made a mental note to split up orders and assign people as overseers. If he kept going around telling everybody directly what to do, then once the threat was over he was going to have to keep that up.

And that was definitely not something he was okay with. He wasn’t going to be one of those leaders that sat on high and doled out commands at his leisure.

With the threat of permanent death largely removed, he was going to push boundaries and go exploring. The Shiverglades were rife with opportunity and he wanted to explore every nook and cranny.

For now, he was content with striking out to clear the immediate area near the gap and perhaps to post some lookouts on the southern end of it. The dwarves were already well on their way to building the walls on the northern side of the gap.

When he first heard the location for the walls, Hal didn’t quite understand it. Being neither an architect nor a civil engineer, he didn’t grasp the utility of having the wall closer instead of farther.

Athagan had illuminated the reason for him.

Not only were the dwarves looking to the future, where the gap would be filled in with all sorts of extra defenses. But they were also making a kill zone.

Archers, catapults, and all manner of ranged defenders could make their way up on either side of the sheer cliff of the ridge that flanked the gap on the east and west for nearly a quarter of its width.

The gap was 500 feet long and lined with sheer cliffs to the west and east. Which meant that for all but the midday, it was shrouded in shadow from one ridge or another. Several dwarves were already referring to the area as the gloamgate.

From their vantage point atop the ridge, they could strike with impunity at any approaching threats. So high up, they would be practically invulnerable. Granted, the dwarves hadn’t yet carved stairs into the cliff from the interior of the valley but Athagan assured Hal that it would be done in time for the assault.

Hal, Noth, and Angram made their way toward the gap. The sight of more walls put up made Hal’s breast swell with pride. The dwarves were gaining Construction skill at a decent pace and their CP was vastly inflated from all the buffs.

It wouldn’t last, and sooner than he was hoping for they would fade. But it was Hal’s goal to get as close to Morale neutral by the time the Founder’s Day buff faded.

If he could do that, the whole Settlement would be off to a good start.

A curious pair were waiting for Hal and his group as they approached the newest Earthen Bulwark already put up.

Durvin stood in gleaming plate mail, his grown-out bronze beard already midway down to his barrel chest and a two-headed axe strapped to his back.

As if that wasn’t surprise enough, next to him stood a dusty blue karak. Boco Bluefeather warbled and chirped when Hal passed his concerned and curious glance over the bird.

Initially, Hal thought the karak was fitted with a saddle and supplies. But upon closer inspection, he realized that wasn’t quite right.

He had on a saddle of some sort all right, but it wasn’t for riding. Somebody had gone through a lot of effort to make extensive alterations to one of the karak saddles.

Several daggers with handles much too large for a person to use were strapped to the sides of the saddle. A green bandana was wrapped around the karak’s head and it had on some light leather armor that kept its body protected while keeping its wings free to move about.

The talons on Boco’s large feet were filed down and sharpened to resemble daggers.

Hal looked from Boco to Durvin, the question plain on his face.

The dwarf crossed his gauntleted arms over his shining breastplate. The midday light caught the edge of gold and fabulous geometric dwarven designs, setting them ablaze with light. “Ye goin’ somewhere lad?” the surly dwarf asked.

“You know where we’re going,” Hal answered. “Out to find the source of the Morbolgers and if we can’t then we’ll at least clear a mile or more in front of the valley and scout out the surrounding area.”

Durvin flashed his pearly white smile and nodded along. “Aye, and yerself is taking us along. I ain’t fer gettin’ stuck behind while adventure’s to be had!”

106

That set Hal back on his heels. With himself, Ashera, Noth, and Angram he did technically have room for two more party members.

He knew Mira was busy up in the north of the valley scouting the cave. He hadn’t seen much of her lately but the various dwarves in her company told him she was well and they knew not to cave in the cavern.

But that didn’t stop the dwarves - or Mira - from delving deeper and exploring. There were rich veins of ore and minerals in there, so the dwarves said.

Nothing they could get access to immediately, but once the Settlement had the right schematics they could get a running start.

It made Hal feel good to see so many of the dwarves looking toward the future and not just the next day. They had confidence that their efforts would not be for naught.

The sturdy folk believed that the Settlement would weather the coming storm and stand the taller for it. Not for the first time, Hal wondered what he did to deserve such stalwart allies.

Their support was nothing short of astounding.

Despite all the objections he could think of, Hal didn’t have the heart to turn either Durvin or Boco away. The look of excitement on both the karak’s face and the dwarven leader’s was too much.

Besides, he could see Durvin came ready for an argument. The dwarf was ready to launch into one of his spitting tirades at the first hint of denial.

“Very well,” Hal said. “You know what you’re getting into just as much as I do.”

Right on cue, Durvin started to splutter, “Don’t ye be takin’ this away from me, boy! I been on more ‘venture- wait a tick. Ye agreed?”

Hal answered the confused dwarf by sending a party invite to him and to the karak. Which, he didn’t even know he could do.

Durvin Bouldergut joins the party.

Boco Bluefeather joins the party.

With Hal’s Leadership perk, they were now at the maximum number of members in a party.

Hal glanced at the party menu, looking at each of their Classes and Levels while they waited around for Ashera.

He could only see the current highest Class they had, but it was illuminating all the same. Naturally, Durvin was among the strongest. His HP bar was massive. Rather than stretching far across Hal’s vision, Durvin’s HP was both taller and wider than every other HP bar.

With Level 30 Warrior, Durvin had the highest Leveled Class Hal had ever seen. Angram wasn’t far behind at Level 28 Ranger, with - surprisingly - Noth at Level 20 Dark Knight, Ashera was tied with Hal at 19 Sin Keeper and Beastborne respectively, while Boco Bluefeather was a Level 12 Karak Thief.

Ashera’s Class made Hal furrow his brow in confusion. He supposed without gaining much in the way of EXP, Ashera’s locked Class was still the highest. That only made him feel more certain that she needed to come out with him.

Noth caught Hal looking her way and tilted her head at him. “What?”

“You have a higher Leveled Class than me,” he said without any judgment or complaint. “I didn’t know you were working so hard on it.”

She stood a little taller and did her best not to grin smugly. “It is a little less impressive when you consider I have no other Classes beside Novice.”

“Hittin’ the twenties is an achievement in itself, lass,” Durvin said. “Ye may get some stat boosts ditherin’ about with some weaker Classes but ain’t nothin’ compare to the rewards ye get from higher Level Classes.

“Take it from an old dwarf, yerself is ahead of any that think raw stats be what makes a fighter!” He winked at Noth and slapped her companionably on the back. When she barely budged, he gave a great belly-laugh.

“What has Durvin in such a fine mood?” Ashera asked, turning everybody’s attention to the battle-ready lamora. She was dressed head-to-toe in shimmering scaled armor. Not the typical pliable plate she had donned before.

“The thrill of the hunt!” he bellowed proudly. “Ain’t nothin’ that gets a dwarf’s blood pumping like a good hunt. We all riding the bird, or’re we to be hoofin’ it?”

Boco gave a sharp, “Kweh!” and glared at Durvin.

The dwarf raised his hands in a soothing motion to the much larger karak. “Was only a joke, ye overgrown pillow! Ye know yerself is always welcome.”

That seemed to set the blue feathered karak back a bit. With a nod, Boco turned and led the way to the south. The rest of the party shared a look then followed after the creature.

“Blue bird, very blue, pretty like the sky in summer. Not now. Sky gray. Boring. Chill and brisk, though!” Steve kept up a running dialogue and Hal did his best to tune out the keinse.

Noth, at his side, was having a bit of a harder time. “He’s very talkative,” she said quietly to Hal.

“They’re excitable,” he agreed without looking up, he knew that the keinse was circling above them a hundred or so feet.

The fact that both Noth and Hal could hear the creature spoke volumes to their efficacy as both scouts and messengers. Provided the listener could understand them, they could facilitate incredible long-range communications.

Hal glanced at Noth. As the only two people who could understand the keinse, it would likely fall to them.

Steve kept up his inane chatter all the way until they reached the southern opening of the gap from their home. The Shiverglades sloped down in all directions away from them.

Mountain spurs cropped up here and there, ridges continued to descend from the lone mountain in the area but everything was of a lower elevation.

On the way there, they decided upon a simple sweeping pattern from west to east until they found promising signs of the Morbolger’s passage or the passage of some other creature.

As it turned out, their plans were unnecessary.

Not far out of the gap Hal spotted a large pit. About twenty yards to the side, Angram found a similar one. They followed it directly out of the gap where the ground became softer and less rocky.

“Looks like our friends can burrow,” Angram said. “It stopped once the soil became too hard and filled with rocks. Good thing too, or else they would likely burrow right beneath those fancy new walls we’re making and pop up amid our defenses.”

Durvin wagged his beard. “Not a one of me dwarfs would set up on so weak a foundation. They’d be picking the strongest, sturdiest stone to rest our future hopes and dreams on, don’t ye doubt!

Angram conceded the point with a nod.

“So we’re looking for something that can pop up anywhere around us at any time then,” Noth said.

“Yes, but look there,” Angram pointed to a raised line of earth. “Likely they are apex hunters, these Morbolgers. Not used to anything tracking them, let alone looking for their nest. I imagine they will be fairly easy to spot.”

“What, precisely are we looking for?” Ashera asked.

“A nest of the durned beasts,” Durvin answered. “Dwarfs aren’t for getting surprised like that and every man we got armed and watching another’s back is a man we can’t put to work.”

Hal looked at Ashera and motioned to Durvin. “More importantly, has anybody aside from Elora actually ventured outside of the protected valley?”

“That will be my first directive as First Bow,” Angram said.

“First Bow?” Noth asked.

“Made up the title myself,” the Ranger said with a pearly grin. “Like it? Gotta have something to distinguish myself amongst the rabble.”

“You’re going to make me roll my eyes so hard they’ll fall out of my head, Angram,” Hal said shaking his head. “How about we see how much you still want the job after a month, huh?”

“That’s fair. I am a fickle beast,” the Ranger said with a shrug of his shoulders, palms raised to the heavens.

“So, our goal is to locate the nest - or nests - of these creatures, and eradicate them? All of them?” Ashera asked, prompting them back on track. She was looking directly at Hal as she spoke.

“All but one,” he said, agreeing with her unspoken plan.

Each of them shot him a confused look in turn. Ashera had just reminded him of something he was planning on using during the battle in the coming days. But Ashera had put him on another track.

If they were able to find a nest and leave it undisturbed, Hal could come out on his own and Dominate the lot of them, bringing them against whatever the Shiverglades had to throw at the Settlement.

To their confused looks he said, “Provided it’s doable. There’s a high chance that we’ll be forced to defend ourselves long before we reach the nest. And I will not risk those working on the wall for a potential benefit later.”

“Ye mind tellin’ us just what the devil yer thinking o’ doing there, lad?” Durvin said, metal-clad fists on his armored hips.

107

“Yer bats!” Durvin bellowed once Hal explained what he was talking about.

“You already know much about them,” Noth added as they entered the thick canopy of a swampy forest to the southwest. “And you have a fire-based attack that could turn them into a truly terrifying force.”

Hal nodded. “It isn’t a bad idea, but there’s the small problem of them attacking the Settlement. We can’t risk the lives of the builders for the sake of something I don’t even know I could pull off.

“Regardless of the cost, I might not be able to find a way to make it out of the Settlement, let alone return if there is a tide of enemies being thrown at us. It might be best to Dominate a large swath of the attacking force, sowing chaos and confusion among their ranks.”

“You assume that they will have ranks,” Ashera said. “They could be simple beasts, could they not? It may be worth the effort of finding a group of monsters for you to control and to mark a path of egress from the Settlement to their location.”

Angram was far ahead of them tracking down several potential paths. The ground was broken up by large roots that leaped out of the spongey earth and then dove back underground.

Their natural root system made it hard for the others to keep on the trail, but not Angram. He went ahead, leaping from one narrow root to the next as if he was walking across flat land.

Splicing aberration and eldritch, Hal felt the power of the monster essences fill him. Knowing he wasn’t using them in order to just do more Bonecrafting gave him an edge of excitement that he realized he missed.

“Would that not cause more devastation?” Noth suggested to Hal’s right.

“Durned beasts are easy to turn about if ye confuse ‘em enough. They don’t have the strength that an army would. No spine. Break the alphas, or cause enough destruction and most will turn tail and run.” Durvin snorted. “I heared some of me boys are placing bets that the durned fools turn tail and run away yelping as soon as they catch sight of our tall sturdy walls!”

Hal could only hope that would be the case, but he didn’t think so. The Guild Mission made it seem like it was much more than some wild beasts. It was the Shiverglades itself pushing them out, rejecting their claim on the wild lands.

A claim that Hal was determined to secure.

Boco Bluefeather strode alongside them, watchful and thoughtful but making no further sounds besides the occasional chirp of agreement. Hal could tell the creature understood every word they spoke, he only wished he could speak karak.

If he had some karak essence maybe, but he neither had close enough contact with them to gain any - like he did with Vorax - nor was he willing to harm a karak.

They hadn’t gone too far out from the gap when Angram made a hurried return to the group. “You remember the voidmist?”

Everybody nodded. Before Angram could point out the dark tendril Hal noticed it snaking its way around the wide bole of a tree. He could almost feel it in much the same way he was aware of monsters he was highly attuned to.

“It won’t harm us,” he said with certainty. “Watch.”

While the Manaseed that was part of his soul rarely spoke to him or imparted anything of use, it was overwhelmingly strong about this. The Manaseed back home was intrinsically tied to Hal, and as Hal was partly a Manatree, he carried with him a portion of its protection.

Unfortunately, he didn’t carry the buffs of Founder’s Day. But he could feel the radiating pressure of the Manaseed’s shielding effect. It was drastically reduced, maybe a hundred yards judging by the distance of that dark thread.

But as he spoke he tapped Convergence to lend his legs greater speed. Like a territorial animal, he rushed toward the tendril of voidmist ahead. The voidmist recoiled as he came closer, a faint scintillating flash forced it to retreat swiftly.

At almost the same time, he heard Besal’s voice in his head. “We’ve got attention, above us.”

Out flashed [Emissary] as Hal kicked off a nearby root, halting his forward momentum and diverting it to the side. His [Chain of Binding] came out next.

A massive insect dropped down from the thick canopy above. At first, Hal thought it was a simple, mindless beast. But then he saw the armor and the strange glaive it held in one of its four hand-like appendages.

It looked like a 7-foot-tall praying mantis, but it stood upright like a humanoid. Its carapace was perfectly colored to fit in with its surroundings, draped with moss and straps to hold several strange throwing weapons that reminded Hal of oversized shuriken.

Hal was already conjuring Bomb Toss. With no hands to lob it physically, he sent the spell toward the mantis creature with a thought. It lacked the dramatic flair he usually appreciated, but he was so out of sorts from seeing a massive praying mantis that he didn’t think twice about attacking.

The creature was already lashing out with its deadly glaive. It struck at the bomb with preternatural speed, the ensuing explosion blasted Hal back a bit but did no damage.

His adversary, on the other hand, was screeching in pain as the flames seared its carapace. The moss it had festooned across itself as perfect camouflage was now set ablaze.

Understandably, the creature swatted at itself to put out the fire, struggling when all four limbs got tangled up as they tried to remove pieces of the burning moss.

Like the Morbolgers, the moss seemed to have a strange property when exposed to flame. Rather than burning out, it burned hotter and brighter as if fueling the flames without being immediately consumed.

I really need to find out what that is.

Unafraid of the flames, even though his Soul Drained fire resistance was long gone by that point, Hal rushed to close the gap.

A shadowy form of a rushing, frantically swiping goblin presaged Hal’s attack. Its phantasmic form cut and chopped with abandon at the mantis. Goblin Rush had the creature, a Thesp Warrior by name, skittering back on a pair of insectile legs.

Hal lashed out with his [Chain of Binding] and pulled with Convergence assisted strength. In the wake of the Goblin Rush Hal struck out with [Emissary], empowering its strike by tapping into the magical core he created at its center.

The blade skittered off the chitinous armor of the Thesp at first as Hal pulled himself in. The Thesp reacted remarkably fast, it dropped the glaive realizing that Hal was too close for it to be effective.

Instead, it struck out with its four arms. Its larger upper set of arms terminated in scythe-like mantis claws while the pair of arms below it were more akin to chitinous versions of hands.

Hal reacted purely on instinct, to the point he wasn’t even sure he had summoned the eldritch and aberration tendrils. They met the Thesp’s attacks one-to-one, stealing the creature’s advantage.

Not for long though, Hal knew. His essence-limbs weren’t nearly as strong as the Thesp’s and once the creature got over the shock of Hal’s new appendages, his advantage would be lost.

But he didn’t intend for the Thesp to get that far.

With a twist of [Emissary], the blade slid along the nearest chitinous plate of armor, right into a seam at its upper arm. He poured all of his strength into that strike and watched with a mix of awe and disgust as the arm was severed.

Whatever flesh lay beneath the armor was extraordinarily weak. All it took was one good strike and the arm practically fell off.

Had he been thinking clearly, he would have realized earlier that the creature had no internal bones. And that its armor was not armor at all in the traditional sense, but its exoskeleton. But he understood it then.

He planted a foot on the creature’s chest, and as he summoned a Divebomb to crash into the Thesp he released the binding enchantment on the chain. He arced backward in a Convergence empowered kick. As the Divebomb struck the Thesp its green exoskeleton cracked and leaked bright purple blood.

The creature staggered forward as Hal got his feet beneath him. He felt a snarl escape his throat as the familiar thrilling sensation of his raising Strain filled him.

Hal summoned Feather Barrier, a whipping wind of shadowy feathers appeared around him and vanished. Using Empathy, he extended it to each of his party members.

A quick glance their way showed him that he wasn’t the only one engaged in battle. Three other Thesps were fighting against the others but they were easily holding their own.

The Thesp in front of him was clearly wounded but instead of continuing to fight like he expected, it spread its insectile wings, and with a loud buzzing sound, the creature leaped into the boughs high above.

About to leap up to give chase, Hal stopped when he realized the buzzing hadn’t faded into the canopy as he expected it to. The forest was alive with the loud clicking buzz of massive insectile wings. Dozens of them.

From every angle, a Thesp bounded toward Hal and his party. Their serrated dual-headed glaives glinted maliciously in the filtering green light of the forest.

108

“Watch yer left, boy!” Durvin called out from behind Hal as the party tightened their formation.

Hal twisted on the balls of his feet, Convergence driving his limbs faster than he could have ever moved them unaided.

He plunged forward with his bone-made falchion, its glittering [Empyreal Shardite] edge caught the green light and threw it back in a dazzling display as he picked off an attack from a descending Thesp.

A twist and a roll of his blade over the creature’s glaive had Hal pushing the wooden weapon out wide. In the opening provided, Hal cast Goblin Rush. Shadowy blades lashed out as if Hal suddenly sprouted five more arms, each wielding a wickedly sharp sword.

Caught out, the Thesp bore the brunt of the assault on its green carapace. Like the first one Hal fought, it didn’t take much damage from the blistering strikes.

And Hal needed to keep an eye on his rising Strain. His MP was another matter, one he didn’t need to focus quite so much on.

While he lacked the Founder’s Day buff, he still had over 800 MP at his disposal. And while it didn’t seem like much, his [Ravensblessed Spaulder] restored 10 MP per kill, offsetting the cost of his continual casting.

Any limitations he had on his spellcasting would be from Strain. But he had more than just Beast Magic at his disposal.

<“Gather up!”> Hal ordered. To his surprise, each of his friends reacted with alacrity.

Hal leaned back as the Thesp in front of him, its carapace leaking in a few spots but otherwise unharmed, lunged at him with that serrated dual-headed glaive.

Out flashed Noth’s scythe, turning the creature’s single weapon into a pair. Muscles straining, Noth arrested the momentum of the scythe, twisted it sideways, and called upon her Dark Knight powers.

Her scythe snapped out at the stunned Thesp, a dark abyssal line of bleeding energy left in its wake. A thin crack appeared in the Thesp’s green carapace. Its legs tensed below it but already Noth was turning away to deal with another threat.

Hal stared, transfixed, as he began to understand the devastation that single slash had visited upon the creature. Its legs coiled powerfully like a grasshopper’s below it and the thing leaped.

The force showed the true damage done by Noth.

As the creature’s legs were forced upward, the line across its carapace expanded and the upper half of the mantis-like monster fell away as its legs leaped up into the canopy.

They fell short several feet and the two halves thumped to the ground.

Noth uses Abyssal Strike.

Noth defeats the [Thesp Scout].

You gain 884 Experience Points (+4%).

You earn 88 Sparks.

You absorb 10 Thesp Essence.

Hal bent forward, slamming his chain-wrapped palm onto the soft earth. <“Get back!”> came Hal’s next command.

The force of his Leadership had everybody reacting at once, taking a step back and where possible, entirely disengaging their foes.

Calling upon Bloodrake, large barbed chains leaped from the ground and lashed themselves to the Thesps. Over a dozen of the creatures and more were caught in the spell. A few managed to slip their bonds before they tightened too much.

One Thesp near Hal managed to lose one of its insectile wings in its escape but that sacrifice provided it with an unparalleled opportunity to strike out at the vulnerable Beastborne.

Had Hal been the type to fight on his own, it would have skewered him with that vicious serrated glaive. But he was far from alone. An arrow suddenly appeared in the thing’s oversized mantis eye, as if it had simply teleported there.

Another joined it shortly after and as the creature’s charge faltered, a large hammer cracked it so hard in the chest that all of its forward momentum was stolen in one sickening crunching sound.

The Thesp doubled over Ashera’s hammer like dirty laundry.

Before its weight could pull down on her weapon she pulled it back, twisted her hips, and brought the hammer up in a sweeping arc that came up and around to slam the creature into the soft earth.

Hal focused on the spell, holding the Thesps in the biting chains while his party methodically went about ending their incessant clicking and hissing.

It reminded him a great deal of the Shoggoth where he had to keep channeling the spell to hold it in place. The Thesps weren’t amorphous - thankfully - but their carapace was hard and the spikes had trouble finding purchase.

With a few twists, the Thesps would have been able to completely slip their bonds without Hal constantly tightening and pulling down on the barbed chains.

“Watch yer head,” Durvin bellowed. Hal ducked down farther, rounding his shoulders as he did.

He felt the hard boot of the dwarven leader on his back, using it like a springboard to attack some threat from above.

Hal turned to look over his shoulder, up at the soaring bronze-bearded dwarf. His two-headed axe held tightly in both hands, Durvin twisted his hips and turned into a tornado of rising destruction.

With absolutely no regard for classical physics, the dwarf somehow continued to rise through the air at a pair of Thesps. Even with his Perception of 20, Hal could no longer make out the dwarf amid the blur of silvery metal and red beard.

The Thesps drove their glaives at the tornado, thinking it an easy kill. As soon as their bladed tips touched the tornado they were sheared off with a metallic clink.

Whether by sheer skill or dumb luck, the fragmented tips of the Thesps’ blades lodged into the center of their triangular insectile heads. They were dead before they ever hit the ground.

Durvin’s momentum was spent and he began to fall as the blurring motion of his axe slowed. Hal scrambled to the side to avoid the heavily armored dwarf that made a deep crater in the soft ground where Hal had been a moment before.

Durvin raised his bushy brows in astonishment. “Somethin’ up there stopped me spin!” He hopped up, angrier than before and for a wonder, threw his greataxe to the side. “Ye ever seen a dwarven arrow, boy?”

“I have the feeling you’re about to show me,” Hal said with a smirk that was mirrored on Durvin’s face.

“Aye, ye got the right o’ it.” Durvin reached to a strap on his hip and pulled out a small hammer. The dwarf whipped his arm forward, chucking the thing end-over-end into the canopy above.

A sharp retort sounded and down fell a stunned Thesp. It crashed into the ground just as Durvin gave a hoot of excitement and charged toward it, picking his greataxe up off the ground as he went.

Hal released Blooodrake as most of the Thesps around them were dead or dying. Many of them were fleeing, but most weren’t getting very far.

Between Ashera’s long strides, Angram’s expert marksmanship, and Noth’s abyssal energies there wouldn’t be many survivors. And those that managed to remove themselves from the battle, found themselves suddenly visited by a gargantuan blue bipedal bird.

Boco Bluefeather, the largest among the party and with dusty-blue feathers that stood out so starkly against the green backdrop had utterly disappeared when the fighting started.

The karak reappeared wherever it pleased as if stepping out of a magical gate to put down any Thesp that it deemed worth its attention.

Using a long knife clenched tightly in its beak, the Karak backstabbed its next fleeing victim, taking it down before it could alert any others in the area.

Thesp essence flowed in low coiling tendrils of purple smoke as they snaked across the churned up forest floor and into Hal. The sting of a new essence was both painful and thrilling at once. EXP notifications rolled past his vision and he dismissed them out of hand.

Summoning Deep Magic, Hal coated [Emissary] in dark crackling lightning and blood-red mist from his aberration and eldritch essences as he chased after Durvin.

For such short legs, Durvin chewed up the ground between him and the downed creature. Hal was only halfway to the rising thing when Durvin stomped one foot down into the dirt, spraying up black loamy earth into the Thesp’s face.

Right behind the distracting move, Durvin spun and lodged its axe right in the thing’s middle. A spray of purple blood blasted from the wound with surprising force.

Before Durvin could yank the blade free, the Thesp swatted him with a clawed arm, and rather than fight against it the dwarf rolled with the hit.

Hal caught a wink from the canny dwarf as he rolled out of Hal’s way. The Thesp’s right arm, as it crossed over its body presented the perfect opportunity to Hal.

Pouring everything he could into Convergence, Hal leaped the remaining five feet and arched his back with [Emissary] over his head.

Only then did the Thesp recognize its doom. It tried to bring its other arm to bear but it had spent too long focusing on Durvin. Hal’s crackling blade sliced down at the weaker joint and cleaved through the thing with one solid strike.

Hal hit the ground hard and shoulder-checked the creature to bleed off his forward momentum and send the off-balance, shrieking Thesp back a few feet.

Rolling his blade around eagerly, Hal stalked forward to finish the kill but stopped suddenly, sensing something was amiss.

109

There was a sense of familiarity coming from the Thesp, where before he only felt alienness.

“This one is more than it seems,” Besal said into his thoughts.

Durvin stomped up alongside Hal, looked at him, then at his axe wedged into the creature’s side. The Thesp stood there as if in a trance. Its carapace was slowly shifting to a dark purple mottled with red.

“Ye suddenly feeling generous to an old dwarf?” Durvin asked. “It ain’t fer giving ye an invitation, boy!”

As Durvin began to stomp forward, Hal moved the flat of [Emissary] to bar his path. “There is more than meets the eye to that one,” he said.

On cue, the creature let loose a blood-curdling screech that swept over them all. Durvin’s axe burst out of its side with another spray of blood, quickly followed by a purple-blood drenched limb that gripped the axe by the handle.

Hal’s limbs locked up, if they hadn’t he would have fallen to the ground in a boneless heap. Pain lanced up and down his joints as every muscle contracted with excruciating force.

It was like a charlie horse all over his body.

The [Thesp Leader] uses Disorienting Wail.

Stalwart Soul activation!

You are afflicted with Paralysis (-50% Duration).

The [Thesp Leader] uses Abominable Molt.

Durvin’s teeth cracked together as the wave of paralyzing energy swept over them all. They were given front-row seats to the terrible transformation.

The Thesps were tall but they were lean, almost stick-like. As the Thesp Leader’s carapace shifted to purple and red it grew to a towering ten feet, its bulk increased significantly. Another pair of legs sprouted beside its others and its enhanced size was supported on four legs.

Another large arm burst out from the creature’s other side, bringing its total up to six arms and four legs. Its larger, newer arms terminated in barbed mantis claws the size of a forklift blade.

Hal’s paralysis wore off first, before the monster charged. With all his strength, Hal shoved Durvin aside and met the creature’s charge with a rapid summoning of his Bone Armor.

Bones shot out from his chest, forming a second ribcage of sorts to absorb the coming blow. It took off a quarter of his MP, but as the Thesp Leader crashed into him with a scything blade, he was glad for it.

The bones shattered on impact but they managed to slow the strike enough that the attack only took off a tenth of Hal’s HP. He crashed to the ground and bounced, rolling painfully across an erupted root.

Boco was on the thing’s head in a flash of blue feathers. The Karak Thief struck with talons and the knife clutched in its beak. The Thesp Leader seemed to ignore the bird for a while until Boco found a seam in its thick chitinous armor.

Coated in steaming, pressurized blood, Boco shrieked in pain but held on long enough to follow through with another strike at the seam in its armor. Boco leaped off, a flurry of blue feathers surrounded him but the Thesp Leader was already swinging its wicked scythe-like limb.

Hal pressed his hand into the dirt, as much to enact the spell as to brace himself. Spectral chains burst from the soft earth and wrapped around the swinging mantis claw.

To Hal’s surprise, the creature’s strength easily bested his spell. The spectral chains of Enchainment shattered into bright motes of mana but they had stolen enough energy from the swing that it was no longer fatal.

Boco felt the sting of the Thesp Leader’s mantis claw and went crashing into a nearby tree trunk, a full three-quarters of the poor thing’s HP vanished in an instant.

Hal let loose a bestial roar of defiance, turning the creature’s attention from the wounded bird back to himself. As he reached deep in both anger and desire to crush his opponent he found something.

A wellspring of power, familiar in its corrupting nature. He grabbed at it.

“No complaint about from whence this power originates? My, how you have grown, my friend,” Besal said with a chuckle.

You gain the effect of First Verse.

Beast Magic Damage +35% | MP Cost -35%.

A Bomb Toss preceded Hal’s rushing attack. The fiery conflagration consumed the mantis creature but it merely shrugged off the licking flames and bore down on Hal.

Goblin Rush was followed by Divebomb, one after the other. The combined weight of the spells cracked the Thesp Leader’s carapace but less than Hal would have liked.

They must have some sort of resistance to magic.

With the buff from First Verse, Goblin Rush should have done well over 500 damage. Instead, it did less than half that. Divebomb hardly fared any better, least of all because it was a weaker spell than Goblin Rush.

Strain Affliction Lv.1 (Taxed).

You have taxed your body beyond normal limitations. Channeling Beast Magic has its costs and each use of the magic warps your body in new and unforeseen ways. Using Beast Magic beyond this point risks more than your health.

Beast Magic Efficacy +20% | Beast Magic Damage +20%

MP Cost +10% | Strain Accumulation +15%

Hal embraced the pain that lanced through his body. He was expecting it. And while he should have feared it, he welcomed the strength it would grant him.

Hal narrowly dodged the sweeping silver glint of Durvin’s stolen axe. Out lashed Hal’s [Chain of Binding] as it connected with a branch near the creature. Hal tugged on it with all his might to send himself swinging at the monster.

Pulling back on [Emissary] he fell into a focused state. The Thesp Leader had traded speed for colossal strength and size. It no longer needed its speed to dodge aside, its defenses were more than an adequate replacement.

And while its strikes were still alarmingly swift, it took time to wind up for another attack. That was when they could strike. Its added limbs only increased its ungainliness.

New limbs were harder to control, the monster was unfamiliar with their use, and rather than working them in concert with each other as a seasoned warrior might, the Thesp Leader’s strikes were awkward. Singular.

It was using its newfound strength to overwhelm them with sheer power rather than the lithe finesse the creatures showed before.

Rushing into the backswing of the Thesp’s attack, Hal struck out with [Emissary] just as he neared the towering behemoth’s chest. He didn’t release the binding point of the chain on the branch, instead, he swung to its full extension, bringing him right up to the Thesp.

He unleashed a blinding attack routine that dipped and dived at the thick leathery seams between the Thesp’s chitinous armor. As his sword bit through the softer flesh, Hal formed his essence-limbs into a makeshift shield.

The expected spray of scalding purple blood erupted over him as if he stood in front of a boiling geyser. Unfortunately, his essence-limbs were not up to the task of defense and they quickly melted under the stream.

Though the damage done to him was minor, he was momentarily blinded by the sudden spray as it overcame his essence-limbs.

Hal had the presence of mind to finish the routine. He kicked with as much strength as he could muster and swung back away from the creature, practically blind from the spray of poisonous, scorching blood.

You use Goring Blade.

The [Thesp Leader] suffers the effect of Gored.

You are hit by Boiling Blood.

Stalwart Soul activation!

You resist the effect of Poison.

Releasing the binding enchantment, Hal was flung away from the creature’s answering strike.

He was down a quarter of HP from that endeavor. And still, the Thesp Leader hardly seemed fazed. Its wound was already closed, reduced to a dribble of purple blood.

“Me axe!” Durvin cried, finally shaking off the paralysis. “The durned troll-kisser took me axe! Nobody takes a dwarf’s axe! ‘Specially not mine!”

As if in answer, the Thesp Leader turned to regard the much smaller creature and lifted its borrowed weapon to cleave Durvin in two.

The dwarf simply stood there, one hand on his hip, the other wagging a chastising finger at the creature. “Ye wouldn’t dare!” he bellowed in challenge.

“Durvin, what- are you florking mad? Move!” Hal shouted.

The dwarf’s stubby legs twitched at the power of Hal’s command but otherwise stayed firm. “A dwarf’s axe is a precious thing,” he said, staring at the swinging axe. “It knows its master, don’t ye doubt.”

Noth cried out, but there was no way she could get to the stubborn, foolish dwarf in time. None of them could get there before the silver-edged axe came down to cut the already short dwarf down to size.

The axe streaked through the air at Durvin’s head but still, the dwarf stayed firm, wagging his finger in that ridiculous pose. Less than a foot before the leading curved edge of Durvin’s greataxe split its previous master’s head wide open, the axe… simply disappeared.

A great clanging racket filled the swampy forest and Hal saw the air warp and bend around Durvin, his shaggy head ruffled by a burst of wind that radiated out from his body.

110

Durvin’s axe hadn’t disappeared. It had rebounded so powerfully off whatever enchantment Durvin had placed upon himself that the weapon was ripped from the colossal grasp of the Thesp Leader.

The creature, too, seemed surprised by this turn of events. It took a full second before it began to screech in rage and pain. Durvin’s axe was lodged firmly in its chest.

Calmly as could be, Durvin reached out one hand toward the flailing creature. The axe wiggled and the creature’s hideous screeched ratcheted to new heights.

Out popped the dwarf’s axe, flipping end-over-end toward Durvin’s waiting grasp. He caught it without fanfare and then rested it upside down against the ground, placing both hands atop the weapon’s pommel. “Told ye,” he said to the creature, even though his voice was lost on it. “Ye don’t take a dwarf’s axe.”

Noth, already running for Durvin, shifted her trajectory and rushed instead at the flailing creature.

<“Watch out for its blood!”> Hal called out. <“It’ll spray out as soon as you puncture its defense.”>

The Dark Knight gave a nod, letting him know she heard but otherwise didn’t slow in the least.

She ran with all speed while the monster was distracted, and Hal realized he should likewise take advantage of the scenario.

As one, each member of the party rushed the thrashing Thesp Leader. The sole member excluded was the unconscious Boco. Unsurprisingly, as they neared the monster, Ashera broke off toward the Karak Thief.

Hal felt sure that Ashera would take care of the karak and fully dismissed the pair from his mind as he focused on the massive Thesp in front of him.

Noth reached it first, she thrust out one black-gauntleted hand and out flew an orb of blood-red color. It paused a foot away from the creature and grew long oily black spikes that pulsed and stretched out from its crimson core. It reminded Hal of a sea urchin.

The attack dealt no damage that Hal could see, and was so unthreatening that even the Thesp Leader didn’t pay attention to it.

“You could learn a thing or two from her,” Besal said.

“What do you mean?” Hal thought back at him.

“The way she has embraced the darker side of her nature, she wields it as a weapon. She does not quail at its source, but recognizes it for its power and responds accordingly. You do not see her shrink from her greatest source of power as you do.”

So caught up in the mental conversation that Hal missed whatever it was Noth had done. She was up in front of the creature, her scythe spinning this way and that as the Thesp Leader lashed out at her with its shorter - but swifter - arms.

One was swept aside with the side of her scythe blade, the other was sliced off at the elbow and then the next suffered the same fate. The wounds sprayed out their toxic payload but Noth remained unharmed.

The blood parted around her like they were being funneled through an invisible tube. Hal understood at least part of the purpose of Noth’s earlier spell as the blood was siphoned into the black spiked sphere.

The spiked sphere swelled with new blood and from it, pulsing waves of bloodied mist spread out of it. As Hal passed through one wave of the mist, it clung to him and seeped into his clothing, healing him.

Noth uses Blooddrinker.

You recover 25 HP.

Noth recovers 22 HP.

Durvin recovers 38 HP.

Ashera recovers 25 HP.

Boco recovers 18 HP.

Each strike that drew blood from the creature added to the healing pulses of Noth’s spell. Buoyed by the fact that each wound on the Thesp Leader would heal his friends - and most importantly the downed karak - Hal conjured Divebomb as he dashed around to the side of the creature.

While Noth cut out its smaller arms with deft turns of her scythe and quick twists, Hal distracted its massive sweeping claws to keep them away from her.

Durvin, catching on to Hal’s design, threw his “dwarven arrows” at the creature’s head, forcing it to divide its attention among the three of them.

Hal dove to the side as the air warped with the sweeping, enraged strike of the Thesp Leader. He came up, twisted, and as the claw dug a five-foot deep ditch in the soft earth, he cast Goblin Rush at it.

Warping dark blades rushed out from Hal and cracked against the mantis claw slowed by its passage through the dirt. He felt the familiar twisting of his guts as his Strain rose ever higher.

Strain Affliction Lv.2 (Savage).

Most mortals would have fallen at this point. Few Chimera Knights even reach this pinnacle of savagery. But a Beastborne thrives on the knife’s edge of destruction. It is there that they find both greatness and despair.

Beast Magic Efficacy +60% | Beast Magic Damage +60%

Essence Tier +1

Max HP +10% | Max MP +10%

MP Cost +15% | Strain Accumulation +25%

The carapace on the Thesp’s right arm splintered and sprayed out blood from dozens of hand-sized cracks like the failing bulwark in some sinking ship.

Hal was already moving, trusting that Noth’s spell had disabled the worst of the creature’s defenses. Consequently, the Gored effect Hal placed upon it also made it bleed more profusely.

He was already up to 90% HP by the time he saw Durvin across the way, motioning to the creature’s rear legs. A savage grin crossed Hal’s face and he nodded.

As it skittered back and forth trying to crush them with its bulk, it also was forced to contend with the erstwhile Reaper and her magnificent black scythe. The creature was overwhelmed, unable to fully respond to any of the threats and slowly they were whittling down its considerable strength.

With his newest level of Strain, Hal resummoned his essence-limbs. At the end of each, he grew a hooked and barbed bone that crackled with black lightning.

Hal launched a Goblin Rush at the creature’s rear leg at the same time as Durvin attacked the opposite leg. Durvin cut clean through his while Hal’s was cracked and bleeding profusely.

A heavy sidewise cut of [Emissary] at its joint severed the twitching leg. Hal leaped back and then jumped on the creature. His hooked and barbed essence-limbs dug into the seams between the Thesp’s armor.

Each hook tore a fist-sized hole in its flesh and out poured a wash of blood. Like the other Thesps, this creature seemed to sense its impending doom. And like them, it made the choice to flee in the most dramatic way possible.

Oh, shirt.

Its massive translucent wings buzzed and whipped the air so fast they seemed to be standing still. Hal felt his stomach drop out as the Thesp Leader leaped with its remaining two legs and beat at the air with its insectile wings.

Digging his hooked appendages into the creature even deeper, Hal hung on for dear life. The creature either didn’t notice him there - unlikely considering the many bleeding holes he was tearing in it - or otherwise wasn’t capable of doing anything to him at the present.

They rose through the thick limbed trees and Hal realized why the creature didn’t seem terribly concerned with him. The canopy of the Shiverglades was thick with wide limbs and branches.

He would be scraped off before he ever had the chance to be a greater threat.

Three of Hal’s essence-limbs shifted from hooked and barbed tipped things to long scything blades of razor-sharp bone. As he focused on his essence-limbs, he dropped down to 100 MP by flooding his Bone Armor with mana to form a shell of armor above him.

He didn’t form a facsimile of a rib cage this time. Thick plates of bone appeared across all of Hal’s most vulnerable spots. On the back of his neck, across his shoulders, and anywhere that the fast-approaching branches might rip and tear.

Smooth bone would shrug off the blows and the jagged, broken branches would skitter off the armor instead of ripping him off of the Thesp Leader. Or so he hoped.

With only 100 MP to his name, Hal wasn’t sure what his plan was beside holding on and surviving the ascent.

Branches, thin and whip-like at first, began to beat at his head, neck, and shoulders. The thicker branches came next, and despite his armor, Hal winced as his HP dropped to half from the battering assault.

The Thesp broke the thickest branches but in the creature’s wake, it left jagged spikes that scraped hard against Hal’s back, shredding his armor and skin alike. Areas he couldn’t have hoped to defend in time.

Burning lines of pain covered his arms, his back, and the backs of his legs where his defenses were meager. He didn’t need to glance at his equipment to know that he was doing a number on the durability of his armor.

Hal and the creature broke free of the Shiverglade canopy shortly after.

111

The frigid air of the Shiverglades greeted Hal and stole his breath away. Somewhere in the tangle of branches and the thick canopy, his warming [Shardite] chain was ripped away and lost.

With chattering teeth, Hal looked up at the Thesp. It gave him a quick glance and then veered sharply to the west.

Flork me, I really didn’t think this through.

He had thought the creature was just capable of accelerating its jumping. He didn’t think that they could actually fly. Struggling against the numbing cold and the weakness in his limbs - both essence and normal - Hal lashed out with the [Chain of Binding].

As soon as it clinked against the purple-and-red mottled armor, he pulled himself in with his essence-limbs as he braced with the taut chain.

Pivoting, Hal placed his feet against the side of the Thesp Leader. Tucked out of the way as he was, the only way the creature could hope to dislodge him would be to dive through the canopy again.

This is going to suck, he thought to himself.

Taking [Emissary] in one hand, he steadied the blade and dove it hard into the cracked carapace. It took several heavy strikes before the cracks widened enough. Hal was sprayed more than once, despite the precautions he took to get out of the way.

The simple truth was, he couldn’t put enough power behind the strike if he wasn’t properly lined up.

Worse, every passing second sapped his strength.

His party menu went gray shortly after. But he already knew there would be no help coming from there. He had to down this thing and do it quickly if he hoped to join up with them again.

Or even to find his way back home.

Shaking the grim thoughts from his mind, Hal awkwardly sheathed [Emissary]. Despite the buffeting and knifing winds, he managed to summon Bomb Toss into his now free palm.

The Thesp Leader seemed to sense something was amiss and began blindly beating with its ungainly claw near where Hal was hooked into it. It came close several times, which only served to spur Hal on further.

Gripping the magical patchwork bomb in his hand, Hal thrust his hand - bomb and all - into the wound he had just made in its carapace. He retracted his hand as fast as he could and unfastened the hooked barbs set into the creature’s body with all speed.

But it wasn’t enough. Bomb Toss, despite its appearance, was not an actual bomb. It was a spell that would blow up as soon as it came into contact with a suitable target.

And thrust right inside the Thesp Leader was more than suitable. Hal felt the biting flames of the Bomb Toss but they were muted, his own mana hardly hurt him.

That wasn’t why he was kicking off and dispelling the binding on his chain with as much haste as he could manage.

The Thesp Leader bulged weirdly around the site of the explosion and for a second, as Hal fell away from the creature he thought he had made a mistake.

His concern was thoroughly wiped away a moment later as the air exploded in a shower of purple blood, viscera, and steam that quickly turned to glittering shards of ice. It vaguely reminded Hal of those internet videos where people threw pots of boiling water into the frigid winter air and it froze immediately.

Chunks of the Thesp Leader crashed into Hal. Its frozen blood formed spikes that impaled Hal’s leg and forced him to whip his essence-limbs back and forth in an attempt to bat the missiles aside.

He was assaulted from the moment the creature died to the moment he fell back into the thick canopy of the Shiverglades. Every strike twisted him about and it took all of his strength and effort just to keep his vitals from being skewered by a spear of frozen blood.

Hal was dizzy and turned about by the time he crashed through the thick boughs. Fortunately, the first few levels of web-like branches were much thinner than he was expecting.

Whipping his essence-limbs about, their hooked tips seeking any hold he cold find, Hal broke through the upper levels of the forest canopy.

His HP dropped precipitously, forcing him to tap Assimilation and drain as much of his MP and SP as he could just to stay alive.

Hal’s vision was a blur of green and whipping brown branches that scratched and clawed at his face and clothes. He reached out an arm toward one of the branches.

A sickening pop announced the dislocation of his shoulder as it caught between a fork in the branch he was reaching out to. The only silver lining was the sudden, and agonizing, halt of his fall.

An essence-limb weakly stretched out and then another. Waves of nauseating pain fell over Hal as his arm was jostled and darkness closed in.

“Wake up.”

He started awake and wouldn’t have had the slightest idea that time had passed at all if not for the sharp slant of the sun through the trees. His right arm hung too far down on his side and even the slightest swaying motion made him nearly retch.

His arm should have still been stuck in the branch… but it wasn’t. He didn’t remember moving.

Taking a deep breath, Hal tried to sort out the sensations assaulting his body. He was in bad shape. At least two broken bones if not more. His thigh had, thankfully, stopped bleeding but it was enough that along with everything else, his HP was hardly a sliver.

With less than 30 HP, he was no longer losing any HP but a slight breeze would be enough to kill him.

His mind swam in a morass of confusion and pain. He tried to focus his thoughts. A glance down showed that he was at least a couple of hundred feet from the ground down below.

Looking up, he saw why he was still alive. His essence-limbs had wrapped about the limb. Their hooked and barbed ends were gone but somehow they managed to hold on like he had parachuted from above and his harness got stuck.

Focusing all of his effort on them, he reeled himself in one dreadful inch at a time. He couldn’t focus on any of the notifications that flitted across his vision like mirages.

Thoughts started and stopped in fits and jerks. He had gotten enough EXP to Level Up from the Thesps, hadn’t he? He tried to Level Up by spending his EXP into Beastborne but even that simple thing was beyond him.

He couldn’t Level Up somehow. He tried again, but executing the series of mental commands simply… failed. Never before had he encountered something so bewildering.

Abandoning the task, Hal focused solely on getting to that branch above him.

Everything but his immediate task and the pain of his many wounds fell away. Each breath felt like inhaling a cloud of razorblades and he was surprised that he wasn’t coughing up blood with every exhalation.

Finally, Hal managed to get up near the thick branch his essence-limbs had wrapped around. The branch was large enough that he could have walked across it easily.

Throwing a leg over it and careful not to move his right arm more than he had to, Hal clambered up onto the branch and laid there for a while. Time seemed to skip ahead because the next time he blinked, the sun was slanted farther in his direction.

He had a vague memory of going west attached to the Thesp Leader. That meant… what, exactly?

Shaking his head, which was a serious mistake as the world swam around him suddenly, Hal tried to gather his broken fragmented thoughts. He couldn’t manage the feat, and darkness washed over him again.

When he awoke, his mind was a little clearer but the forest had plunged into dusk. Dusty beams of sunlight lanced like golden bars through the canopy, gilding the edges of wide leaves the size of hub caps.

He made another attempt to spend his EXP into the very first Class available to him. He mentally shoved the EXP into Beastborne and was rewarded with a rush of revitalizing energy and strength that flooded his numb limbs.

His breath returned to his lungs, icy and sharp but blessedly full. He hadn’t even realized one of his broken ribs was making it harder to breathe.

Broken bones reknit, dozens of gashes and bleeding wounds closed with an intense itching sensation that made his skin crawl. Before he lost the fight with the primal urge to scratch, the Level Up had done its work.

Through the tattered, blood-soaked flaps of his [Shaper’s Coat], his skin was as whole and fresh as if he just spent a week at a sauna. The stain and the memory of blood and pain yet lingered, but the physical effects were thankfully wiped away.

Beastborne reaches Level 20.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

You have 1 Beastborne Perk point awaiting assignment.

You learn Splice II.

Splice can now utilize three separate monster essences at once. Stacking multiple essences from the same family increases the effectiveness of both essence and the spells of that family.

You learn the Undead Killer trait.

Gives you an edge when fighting Undead Family monsters, increasing damage dealt while decreasing damage taken. Adds a chance to Intimidate Undead.

New Class Quest: Dark Communion.

You have noticed that over time, as your Beastborne Levels have increased, so too has Besal grown. As your darker self, his bestial nature has been tempered into something more. You have survived far longer than most Beastbornes and attained a level of power that few have witnessed.

Besal would have you heed his words, if you are amenable.

Objectives

- Talk to Besal.

Rewards

- Unknown.

112

As awareness and vitality came back in a sudden rush, Hal squinted his eyes at the prompt despite hardly needing to. Besal wanted to talk to him?

The concept didn’t surprise him so much as having a Class Quest for it.

It was true that lately he had been noticing the differences in Besal. But everything else had demanded his attention and he rarely had a spare moment to himself anymore.

With a wry grin he realized that the truth of the matter was, he barely had a spare moment for himself anymore.

Every other problem came first ahead of his own progress and improvement. Hal was far from conceited enough to think that his progress should take place in front of everything else that needed doing, but to completely ignore it as he had….

He could only shake his head.

Durvin had been right what felt like a decade ago back in that cave to the south of Murkmire.

If he kept doing everything, it was going to run him ragged. And then what would happen to his people when he left or died, or something else? They needed to stand on their own without constantly seeking him out for every little thing.

He needed more people like Athagan, Horald, and Angram. People he could delegate responsibilities to that he could trust to carry them out faithfully.

That way he could retain his freedom without fully giving up control. Some control had to be sacrificed, there was simply no way around it. Hal shivered against the freezing, darkening forest.

Even with his Darkvision, he couldn’t see the forest floor. Then he remembered he could now Splice three monster essences. Hal immediately added shadow into the mix.

Shadesight instantly gave him sight beyond anything Darkvision could grant him. The world resolved into shades of blue and starlight. Many darker forms - nighttime predators no doubt - prowled the lower branches and the forest floor far below.

Aside from goblin essence, shadow, aberration, and eldritch were his strongest essences. But he was curious to see what would happen if he combined three from the same family. He had two such families: arcana, and plantoid, each with three essence types.

First thing’s first, he thought to himself, trying to organize his thoughts. It was easier than before but he still struggled. His fingers were numb and he felt chilled to the bone.

A frigid breeze knifed through his clothes and cut straight to the bone. He vividly felt each rip, each hole in his leather-and-cloth armor. Much of it, he knew without checking, was already ruined.

It was all so much like when he awoke in the goblin cave a lifetime ago. Only this time he wasn’t helpless, nor was he a prisoner. But he recognized the debuff on him without having seen it.

Exhaustion was the reason he woke up with a sliver of HP still despite being knocked out for hours. And though he felt significantly better after Leveling Up, it didn’t wipe away his Exhaustion or the Biting Cold debuff. He wasn’t going to be able to regenerate his HP, SP, or MP until he warmed up.

And with the durability on most of his armor dangerously depleted or in some cases completely bottomed out, that was going to be a tall order.

Hal strained his ears for any sound from Steve or any other keinse but after several long moments of nothing, he gave up.

Maybe the keinse had been scared off from the sudden appearance of the Thesp Leader in their airspace. Whatever the reason was, it hardly mattered.

Getting warm was his first priority.

“There are a great many beasts below us,” Besal said.

Hal started at the voice. “I can see that.”

“We could kill them,” Besal suggested, his voice velvety smooth. “All of them. You have the strength.”

He tried not to roll his eyes. “Yes, and the commotion will bring even worse creatures.”

“Then we will kill them.”

Hal leaned over to look down at the shifting forms more than a hundred feet below him. He had been thinking about forming a sort of bone bowl to put some kindling into and attach it to the wide branch he was sitting on.

But he had to admit that Besal’s way seemed so much easier.

“I am alone,” Hal reminded Besal. “We barely fended off that Thesp that transformed and even before that. If we run into more I don’t think I’ll be able to take them.”

“You are not alone,” Besal replied with a throaty chuckle.

“What do you mean by that?” It didn’t sound like an idle observation, but rather that Besal might be capable of doing something… tangible.

“Are you ready to talk now, then? Have I piqued your interest?”

Hal made an impatient motion, then realized that Besal couldn’t see it. Or, if he could, it would be out of his own eyes. With a self-deprecating chuckle, he shook his head. “It’s not like my Exhaustion is going to get worse immediately. What did you want to talk about?”

As Hal exhaled, a dark cloud funneled out of his lips. Before the shock could wear off, Besal sat across from him. He was not the bestial looking creature of that dripping black oily substance that Hal remembered.

He looked much more like Hal, only made of shadow and starlight. Pinpricks of muted light shimmered just beneath the surface of his skin. His eyes were still ruby-red but now they gave off a lazy curl of blood-red smoke.

Besal grinned, showing pearly white teeth with prominent fangs. “I appreciate this opportunity to speak, face to face,” he said in cultured tones and a nod of his head.

Hal had expected him to reach out and tear out his throat. Besal chuckled as if he had read his mind and just as he did, Hal understood the Beast’s humor.

There was no reason to fight Hal, at least not in Besal’s eyes. There was more to be gained by cooperating than by fighting.

More importantly, Hal felt a faint twinge of guilt and shame for the way he acted before. It had the same intensity and ring to it that Hal sometimes felt when his brain thought it would be a good idea to remind him of something utterly stupid and embarrassing he did in the third grade right before going to sleep.

Something that as a child, he wasn’t truly equipped to understand right from wrong. In much the same way, Besal wasn’t capable of understanding Hal’s way of life, or even that he was truly alive in the same way as Besal thought he was.

“I was wrong,” Besal said smoothly, head bowed. Hal could feel the remorse coming off him in waves. It was disconcerting and alarming. Where was this coming from? “In my defense, I was young and foolish. There was no way I could resist the lure you put in front of me. But I have grown.”

“Truly?” Hal said with a skeptical snort. Try as he might to doubt Besal, he could no more doubt that it was getting dark out than the veracity of Besal’s thoughts. Unless the creature found a way to lie and segment its own feelings from Hal’s.

Something that didn’t seem likely.

“You doubt,” Besal said lifting his head. “Good. You are often too trusting. Too gullible. I have watched you.” He pointed at his own temple. “From here, I have seen everything you have done.

“The good, the bad, the utterly stupefying. You have grown and as you grew, so did I. I understood you better, dug through your memories to know every little weakness you had only to find that… you grew past them.

“I did not lie to you when I said the Beastborne’s of eld were far more cooperative with their darker selves. Their Beast, their Khaeros. Theirs was a symbiotic relationship. I detest being locked away but neither do I wish to usurp control of your body.”

“Then what do you want?” Hal asked. Despite himself, he was being drawn in. Not having to fight with Besal would be great. It was his greatest fear that, when using Beast Magic, he would one day fail to contain his Strain and those he loved would be in danger.

“I seek Communion. We have spent much time separately, our synchronization is poor. You forego many gifts that make a Beastborne a truly frightening foe to face. With my help, those creatures down below would be child’s play.” He swept his hand below as he spoke. “You would have the strength to keep your new home - our new home - safe from the creatures that rise against you.”

“What do you know of them?” Hal asked without even thinking. If Besal somehow had more information….

Besal raised a hand of shadow and starlight to halt Hal’s racing thoughts. “I know your mind, Hal. I do not know the foe arrayed against us. Not any more than you do, at least.

“But I can feel the bite of the wind. The sour tang on it, that subtle feeling of wrongness.” Besal chuckled. “Ironic, I know, considering what I am. What we are. Working together, however, we could push our power to new heights. Enough to stand toe to toe against the Shiverglades herself.”

“And what precisely is the cost of this grand power?” Hal asked. “There has to be a cost. There’s always a cost.”

“Each time we seek Communion, there is a chance we will die,” Besal stated plainly. “I do not aim to deceive you. If we cannot find a way to Commune, then the process very well may kill either one of us.”

113

New Divergent Class Quests: Dark Communion & Brilliant Soul.

Divergent Quests are branching quest lines that require a choice to be made. By choosing one, or completing a single objective, the other automatically fails.

Class Quest: Dark Communion

Besal seeks to grow your power through the act of Communion. But there is a catch. The very act of trying to become one with such an opposing force is a dangerous proposition. While Besal states he has no desire to harm you, the process will be mortally dangerous. If you choose to walk this path, it may result in the death of one or both of you.

Objectives

- Perform 3 Dark Communions with Besal.

- Preserve Hal’s life.

- Preserve Besal’s life.

- Additional objectives available.

Rewards

- Enhanced Strain limit.

- Enhanced Beastborne abilities, spells, and skills.

- Access to Beastborne Zenith: Delirium.

- Additional rewards available.

Class Quest: Brilliant Soul

Reject Besal’s tainted offer of cooperation. You have gone this long without his strength. You can take Beastborne to new heights on your own. Destroy Besal utterly and you will never again have to look over your shoulder, wondering if the dark Beast will betray you.

Objectives

- Purge Besal from your mind, body, and soul.

- Survive the process.

- Additional objectives available.

Rewards

- Removed Strain limitation.

- Beastborne abilities will be altered.

- Access to Beastborne Zenith: Brightshade

- Additional rewards available.

Hal stared at the Quests, then looked over at Besal. “I assume you see them as well?” he asked and Besal nodded.

“I await your decision,” Besal said with an odd sanguine air of a man who has accepted his fate, whether it be for good or ill.

As much as it may have always been a dream of Hal’s to finally rid himself of Besal, of the taint that seemed to poison the heart of Beastborne, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

He knew Besal as he knew himself. The Beast - hardly deserving of that moniker now - had not tried to harm him in a long time. In fact, Besal had offered him strength without any apparent strings attached.

Granted, Hal’s continued existence was key to Besal’s. But it was a far departure from what Hal had ever expected.

Hal extended his hand, and because Besal understood Hal’s mind as well he mirrored the motion. They shook each other’s hand. Besal’s shadow and starlight hand felt only slightly less distinct than solid flesh and bone.

It was the first cooperative thing they had ever done without a great deal of suspicion surrounding it.

Hal had made his choice, whether it doomed him or saved him.

“The process of Communion will take three days,” Besal warned. “And we must not be disturbed during the process. Any outside interference may very well doom our attempts at synchronization.”

Besal shook his head before Hal could ever voice his argument. One of the downsides of sharing the same headspace as another being, Hal supposed.

“I know what you would say. But your friends will be fine without you. You know this, I know this. Three days, Hal. Should we survive, we will return to the Settlement well before any further harm befalls it. And we will return with the strength to shift the tide of the coming battle.”

It was a good offer and soundly argued. Hal knew it. Besal knew it. But it went beyond the obvious lure of strength and progress that had been stifled as of late.

There wasn’t much opportunity to improve himself when they were constantly on the road. Everything was kept in a sort of limbo as they fought to sustain or protect themselves but did little else on their journey.

Even when they founded a Settlement, they were immediately beset by the need to prepare and raise defenses. And if it wasn’t that, it would have been something else, Hal knew.

Sitting across from him, made of starlight and shadow, Besal placed his palms on the knees of his crossed legs and nodded. “There will always be another threat. Another war. Another problem. Such is life. But you needn’t let it dictate your every move.

“Only once you truly master the internal, will you possess the ability to affect the external. As it is, you strike out from a foundation of shifting sand. Priorities constantly shifting. Fear, concern, anger, all warring for your attention.

“Without a solid foundation of self, you will forever feel that unease that sits heavy in your heart. When you possess such a foundation, when you understand your strengths and your weaknesses, only then will you be able to transcend them.”

Hal raised a brow at him and chortled. “And I suppose you are the one that is going to give me that solid foundation?”

Before Hal finished speaking Besal was already shaking his head. Of course, he knew what Hal was saying before the words left his mouth. “I only offer you a path. For both of our sakes. What you choose to do with it is up to you.”

“You really have changed,” Hal said, wonder creeping into his voice.

“As have you,” Besal said, taking the compliment and giving it back.

“If I communicate with anybody, will that interfere?”

“Only if you do so while Communing.” Besal paused a moment and then nodded his understanding. “Ah. The Reaper. You wish to let her know you are well.”

“Her, and the others,” Hal agreed. “A poor leader I would be if I decided to go on a private journey and tell nobody about it. I can’t help that I’m out of range of them but if the keinse get within range I will ask them to relay a message to Noth.”

“So long as they do not interfere, I see no reason it would cause a problem.” Besal leaned over the edge as if he had no concern about falling - which he didn’t – and examined the shifting forms down below. “This is a fortuitous location.”

“What do you mean?”

“Observe the creatures below. They fight and battle as all monsters of opposing families do. At such junctures will we find a surfeit of mana from the slain, that ancient echo of animosity will serve our ends.

“As their hatred and spilled blood rises thick in the air, we will partake of the mana and through it grow stronger. Our Communion will seek to find a bridge between two disparate halves. Through such efforts, we may find a way to coexistence.”

More than anything else, that was the one thing Hal was hopeful for. That Strain was a severe limitation was one he could accept. But that it would cause him to completely lose control of his body, threatening his friends, however, was too much.

As his Settlement grew, each time he used his Beast Magic he would be putting their lives in danger. It was unacceptable. If this could afford Hal and Besal some measure of peaceful coexistence, he owed it to himself and his friends to fully explore the possibility.

Just as he decided on his course of action, he received a notification informing him that he failed his Class Quest, Brilliant Soul.

Only one Divergent Quest could be pursued, and despite his misgivings and doubts, the potential for Dark Communion seemed so much higher.

That is the way of things, he thought.

While Brilliant Soul no doubt would require a battle with Besal - he would never expect him to give up his life without a fight - it seemed the easier approach.

And, Hal had to admit, it felt wrong.

More than once Besal had clued Hal in to a problem or enemy his senses had missed. If not for Besal’s timely reminders and mentions, things may have turned out differently.

Down below, the sound of fighting filtered up through the trees. “What are they?” Hal asked. Despite his Shadesight, he couldn’t make out precisely what types of monsters they were.

“Vermin and plantoid,” Besal said. “Hated enemies.” He paused and turned his gaze back toward Hal. “You do not understand.”

Hal shook his head. Why monsters of different races fought was entirely lost on him. He knew that they did. In fact, he understood it on an instinctual level. Just like he knew which direction was west without a compass to tell him.

Despite the distance to his friends and the Settlement, even in his addled state, Hal knew which direction the Thesp Leader had taken off in.

And from there it was a simple matter of reversing direction.

But for all his instinctual knowledge, he didn’t quite grasp the relationships between monsters. From his time in the dark reaches beneath Murkmire, he understood that mimics and aberrations hated each other.

Knowing it and understanding it, however, were two very different things.

Besal read Hal’s thoughts, his ruby eyes smoking as he intently focused on his human counterpart. “I would say it is past time you understood the correlations of monsters.”

114

“You already have a faint comprehension, but you are grasping at shadows,” Besal said. “Understanding monster correlations is deeply important, Hal. Are you aware of the ascension and descension relationship of the elements?”

“You mean the strengths and weaknesses to each other?” Hal asked, recalling a discussion he had with Elora and Ashera. “Like how fire is weak to water, but strong to ice?”

“Yes, just like that. Much in the same way as the elements are intrinsically tied together, so are monsters. The relationship is deeper and more esoteric but the same rules generally apply.” Besal motioned to the fighting below them. “Take those two monster families for example. Vermin and plantoid.

“Vermin is in ascension over plantoid and as such, is the predator in the relationship. Likewise, should you ever find yourself facing a monster from the plantoid family, you would do well to have a vermin Beast Magic spell handy.”

“So like elements, having the proper Beast Magic spell from the right monster family plays a big role in how much damage it does,” Hal said, following the logic. “So that’s what that Quest was trying to tell me. How much is the damage difference?”

Besal shrugged. “Variable, but properly applied it can double your damage output, but that is only part of the benefit.”

“And that is?” Hal asked, knowing Besal wanted him to ask.

“Prey fears its predator. Like elements that use ascension and descension, Beast Magic uses predator and prey to explain its interactions. You have already noticed the Killer traits Beastborne provides? Using a predator spell on its prey will have similar effects.”

“Too bad I never seem to get ones that would be applicable to the creatures that I’m fighting. Having a Plantoid Killer trait right about now would be pretty nice,” Hal groused. “I don’t even have any vermin Beast Magic. In fact, most of my Beast Magic is fairly limited in scope.”

“You have not sought out new sources of power,” Besal explained. “You have gathered what has been set before you. I am not placing blame. We share a mind, yes? Then you needn’t tell me that your options of late have been limited.

“First, trapped within the underbelly of a town with horrors lurking in every crack of its foundations. And then constantly traveling. But you have all of the Shiverglades before you. Many monsters, even more monster families than you could think of are here. I have sensed many in our passing. In time, I would show them to you.”

Hal was about to ask why he would wait to reveal that information but then he understood. Even had Besal offered earlier, he wouldn’t have taken him up on the offer. There was no way he was going to range about searching for spells with danger breathing down his fledgling Settlement’s neck.

And that was why Besal didn’t offer. He already knew what Hal’s answer would be.

It bothered him a little that Besal seemed to understand him more than he understood Besal. But in truth, how often did he try to see things from Besal’s viewpoint?

Not often, he thought.

Throughout all of his thoughts, Besal stayed silent and patient. Once he sensed that Hal was done, he picked up his explanation from where he stopped. “We have six different families of essence,” he began again. “You already know how one interacts.”

“Arcana and undead,” Hal replied. “They hate each other, but I thought you said everything was in a predator and prey relationship? They seem more like….”

“Rivals,” Besal answered for him. “Yes. They have a special relationship, adversaries. Adversaries are equally weak to each other. Undead spells cast against arcana deal exceptional damage, but so too would the reverse. It is a dangerous game to tap adversarial essences as you have, somehow you have avoided any potential repercussions. I am still unsure of how.”

“Like when I Splice shadow and aberration?”

“Yes, but it is dangerous and volatile. For reasons I cannot fathom, you have had no ill-effects. Obviously, I will not suggest caution. Never that. Such a thing would be unbefitting of a Beastborne.” Besal tilted his head up, looking at Hal with a sense of pride that flowed through their mutual bond.

Hal felt the same sense of pride. Beastbornes were rare, and to be one that somehow stood out among the typical was even rarer.

“Unfortunately,” Besal continued, “as you said, you lack many appropriate spells. However, there are two major ecosystems at work with Beast Magic. The terrestrial ecosystem consists of two separate spheres.

“The first contains plantoids, beasts, lizards, and vermin, each a predator to the following with vermin feeding on plantoids. The second cycle contains aquans, amorphs, and birds.”

“I’m guessing undead and arcana are part of the second ecosystem?” Hal asked.

“Undead, arcana, dragons, and outsiders make up the other ecosystem. As the terrestrial ecosystem focuses on creatures that exist in the prime planes of reality, the celestial ecosystem focuses on those outside of normal planespace.”

“Unnatural creations,” Hal said, catching on. “Undead and arcana hate each other because they’re both - in their own way - abominations. A perversion of the natural order. Mimics are given life through magical means but they should not exist. In much the same way, the dead are meant to stay dead and the undead pervert that.”

“Correct,” Besal agreed. “Meanwhile dragons and outsiders are distinctly not of mortal planes. Your friend with the gold scales? He has been to more worlds than you could count. Many dragons are realmwalkers, traveling from one worldshard to the next with nary a thought as to their next destination.”

Hal chuckled. “And outsiders are beyond the scope of mortal minds, correct? Beings such as yourself that desire to reach to the stars above.”

Besal ducked his head, not quite in shame but something close to it. “I was,” he corrected. “I am something of a hybrid now, much as you are not wholly a simple human man. Surely you have felt the changes.”

He didn’t deny it. There were subtle changes that went beyond whatever Besal’s influence on him might be. Hal only hoped that he wouldn’t suddenly sprout horns or wings without intentionally creating them.

“Not unless you fall to the darker side of Beastborne,” Besal said, trying to ease Hal’s concerns. “That you are still - in outward appearance - a normal human is a testament to your willpower. Lesser Beastbornes - even Chimera Knights - would have taken on bestial formations by now.

“Tails, slit eyes, scaled skin, there are many alterations that can occur. They are all beneficial in one way or another but they are a permanent change, unlike your essence gifts.”

“I always did like the Witcher,” Hal said, musing what he would look like with draconic slits in his simple brown eyes.

“Your reference to pop culture aside, such aberrant changes are not commonly looked upon with anything approaching acceptance. You have a hard enough time with that mark on your arm, do you not?”

Hal lifted his left arm and looked at the glowing mark. The sleeve was tattered, letting the gold and pale moonlight escape into the darkness around them. “Fair point. So, using outsider spells against a terrestrial does nothing?”

“It does not count as a predator attacking its prey,” Besal corrected. “Celestial spells are often considered stronger - and typically possess a higher requirement - which makes them strong candidates against any foe.

“Celestial spells generally deal greater damage to terrestrials as they are not able to defend against such otherworldly energies as well.

“That you are so tightly bound to aberration and outsider is… interesting. But now you can utilize a third essence, and it would behoove you to use a terrestrial essence. If only to expand your awareness.”

Hal furrowed his brow at that. His celestial essences were among his strongest, but at Besal’s knowing look he used Splice to tap aberration, eldritch, and vermin.

As soon as he used vermin, something shifted.

It was just as Besal said. His awareness expanded far and wide. He immediately could discern that those creatures far below were plantoid and vermin.

Not just plantoid and vermin, but insect and planttrap. Though stronger in the hierarchy, the insects were outnumbered by the planttraps. Theirs was a losing fight.

He looked up at Besal, and the Beast gave Hal a wolfish grin. One that Hal mirrored.

Besal extended his hand to Hal. Grasping it, Hal watched as Besal’s form shifted and became indistinct. His body made of shadow and starlight began to collapse upon itself and funneled straight into Hal’s outstretched hand.

It felt something like when he absorbed a monster’s essence, that same thrilling and burning sensation.

“Do you mind if I help?” Besal asked.

“By all means,” Hal answered.

To his surprise, Hal found his left arm moving of its own accord. He relaxed the muscles and watched with great interest as Besal took control of the limb.

Using Blades of Bone, Besal caused great claws to sprout from Hal’s fingers. Before Hal could ask what he was doing, his body twisted and he was falling off the large branch he had been sitting on.

115

Out lashed Hal’s hand under Besal’s control. The newly made bone claws bit deep into the wood slowing his fall into a controlled descent.

Knowing he was about to enter battle sooner than he had hoped, he pulled up his Beastborne perks. Technically, Besal was controlling their descent down the trunk of the massive tree, freeing Hal to quickly select this perk.

And he knew just what to get.

With all this talk about monster correlations, Hal took the third and final Level of Deep Magic. A Beastborne ability that allowed him to imbue one or more of his currently Spliced essences into his weaponry, abilities, or - at Level 3 - his spells.

Throughout it all Hal could tell it was taxing on Besal to use Hal’s body like that, even though he didn’t fight him on it. There was a cost for Besal to assume control of Hal’s body.

Unlike before, when it seemed the exact opposite.

Whether that was because of his lack of Strain or some fundamental shift in their dynamic, Hal didn’t know. At any point, he could have ripped control away from Besal.

There had to be trust. If Hal was truly going to pursue this Dark Communion, trust was essential. He remained guarded though.

He was no longer a fresh-faced young man without any idea of what he was getting himself into.

“No,” Besal said with a dark chuckle. “Now you know enough to be truly dangerous, but lack the wisdom to use it properly.”

“Fair enough,” Hal mumbled. Besal’s words were true enough.

As they descended, the fighting grew more ferocious as the plantoids surrounded the remaining insects - large beetles by the look of it - and began to snap whip-like tendrils at the creatures, cracking their glossy black shells.

By the time Hal’s feet touched the soft earth, there was only a pair of beetles left to contend with the four planttraps.

Sensing a threat - likely through woodsense, Hal figured - one of the planttraps turned and snapped out a one-two combo of its vines at him.

Up went [Emissary], picking off one then the other as Convergence powered his reactions. Stepping into the defeated attacks, Hal conjured Deep Magic, coating [Emissary’s] crystalline edge with insect essence.

He tried not to cringe as a tiny swarm of bugs appeared in the miasma of red smoke and crackling energy from eldritch and aberration essences.

The planttrap tried to scuttle back on supple roots, but Hal was faster. He took [Emissary] in both hands, brought it up high, and snapped all his muscles in concert to bring it across at a sharp angle against the plant creature’s bulbous bell-like body.

Hal’s Sword Skill was decent, though nothing amazing. His eyes widened at the damage his sword did to the creature in a single strike. And it came as a massive shock when the planttrap let out a strange hissing sound and its vines began to whip erratically at the air.

You hit the [Flytrap | Lv.40] for 328 points of damage.

The [Flytrap | Lv.40] is intimidated.

Hal lunged forward, stabbing the hollow bell-formed body of the Flytrap, then ripping the insect-edged blade out to the side. As he watched, the tiny cloud of insects swarming around [Emissary] detached and began to eat at the wound he made.

The Flytrap flailed harder as its wounds widened and bled more profusely.

Conjuring Bomb Toss while channeling Deep Magic, Hal chucked the sizzling ethereal bomb into the midst of the Flytraps and the pair of badly wounded beetles.

At Level 3 Deep Magic, he could imbue his essence into not only his weapons, but also his magic. And as he summoned Bomb Toss, Hal focused on his insect essence.

The bomb exploded, lighting up the middle of the clearing with a brilliant flash of heat… and clouds of devouring insects.

Not only did the fire catch on each of the Flytraps, licking hungrily at their vulnerable bodies, but the essence-insects were on fire. The mana-conjured insects burned right through the defenses of the Flytraps.

Each of the Flytraps glowed with shimmering embers just below their skin. Embers that moved and ate, devouring the creatures from within. It was hideously effective, and though none of the bugs touched Hal, his skin still crawled from the sight of so many insects buzzing about.

Hal lunged forward. Using [Emissary] with one hand, he conjured another insect-essence Bomb Toss and lobbed it at the swiftly dying Flytraps. The creature in front of him glowed from within with constellations of insects burning and ravenously consuming it.

He put it out of its misery with a slash of his blade.

Notifications of Flytraps dying filled his vision, but he swept them aside. One of the beetles had been destroyed by the last Bomb Toss but there was one yet stubbornly clinging to life.

It regarded Hal distrustfully.

About the size of a large dog, the beetle-like creature came up to Hal’s mid-thigh. Its black carapace was covered in burning sap. It had what appeared to be horns on the front but one of them was broken off.

Hal felt a twinge of sympathy for the creature. Normally, he hated bugs. It was a distinctly human emotion that he couldn’t get over.

The beetle’s black glassy eyes watched Hal and began to backpedal away from him. He could have killed it. Part of him thought he should, but there was a surprisingly absent opinion from Besal.

He was used to Besal offering up his opinion in raw brutal emotion urging him to keep fighting. Some of the Flytrap bodies vanished into green smoke and siphoned into Hal, burning his lungs with their essence.

The single beetle he had killed with collateral damage turned into essence as well. Slowly moving away the lone survivor watched Hal curiously.

“It is confused,” Besal explained. “Not only did you kill its ally, but you are both of a familiar essence and two distinctly other essences. It does not know whether you are a friend, a foe, a master, or a destroyer.”

“It feels all that?” Hal asked aloud. The beetle clearly didn’t understand him, but it heard his voice and paused its slow retreat.

“In a way. It is not a bright creature. Hardly a monster. More animal than monster, but close enough all things considered.”

Hal looked at one of the bodies of the Flytraps. The essence-insects didn’t last very long. At the very least they didn’t consume the corpses. He motioned to the beetle. “Move there.”

The beetle, still clearly confused, skittered a few steps to the side toward where Hal pointed. Hooking the toe of his boot beneath the body of one of the Flytraps, he used Convergence to kick the corpse over to the beetle.

“Eat if you like,” he said, curious if the creature could understand his intent.

He didn’t even know if he had to talk. But it was better than utter silence. Hal watched as the beetle nudged the body with one of its horns and then crawled over to the body and began to chew on it.

Unsurprisingly, it sounded a lot like somebody eating a salad.

Still freezing, Hal’s strength suddenly bled out of him and he fell to one knee. Besal stepped out of Hal, and turned to offer his hand. “An interesting decision,” he said. “You chose to aid it rather than attacking it simply for being a monster. Why?”

Hal shrugged. “Is it really any different than a wild animal? Am I to step into two creatures fighting and slaughter them both just because I want to be on top of the totem pole?”

“Many would, yes,” Besal answered as he hoisted Hal up to his feet. A thread of Besal’s strength seemed to coil around Hal’s arm and seep into him, revitalizing his strength.

Besal’s other hand motioned to the site of the brief but bloody battle. A dark seed rose from the site of the conflict and floated toward his hand. His grip on Hal’s hand tightened.

“My ego is not so fragile that I need to dominate every creature that I come across,” Hal said, his eyes snapping to the mote of darkness. “What is that?”

“Our ascension,” Besal said with a hint of awe in his voice. “Push all other thoughts from your mind and focus on the sound of my voice. I will guide you through the communion. You need but heed what is in your heart.”

Hal still didn’t fully understand, but he nodded his agreement all the same. He sheathed [Emissary] and watched as the bead of darkness made its way, inexorably slow, into Besal’s palm.

It was still visible as Besal closed his fist of starlight and shadow around it.

Besal turned to Hal, his red eyes filtering crimson smoke into the air. Faster than thought, Besal snapped his hand forward and pushed the seed of darkness into Hal’s chest.

Hal stood there a moment, stunned and confused. Then everything turned black. He fell a long, long distance. It reminded him of the time he first came to Aldim through that portal just as he was falling asleep on his couch back in Seattle.

Hal started awake, gasping in surprise at the myoclonic jerk that had disturbed his attempt to sleep. He was back in his apartment. Back in Seattle.

116

Hal shook his head and leaned forward. His pleather couch creaked and groaned its customary complaint. As he unsteadily gained his feet, he rubbed his backside. The springs of his couch had a bad habit of digging into him if he fell asleep there.

It was one of the reasons he usually avoided it but last night… was it last night? He shook his head free of the dream - or whatever it was - that kept invading his thoughts.

Last night had been particularly bad. He did know that.

Dragging a hand across his face, Hal staggered over to the small kitchenette and scrounged around in the fridge for something to eat. He let out a profound sigh when he saw the options before him.

A four-day-old box of Chinese food or one of three protein shakes. He didn’t remember getting them and they had the strangest names.

The bottles of eldritch essence, aberration essence, and insect essence stared back at him. They seemed to glow slightly in the dim light of his fridge’s light.

On a whim, Hal picked up the bottle of eldritch essence. It looked legit enough. There was some grinning shark-toothed monstrosity that resembled a beholder as the brand’s mascot with a message curled beneath the image: “Eldritch essence, it’s outta this world!”

Shrugging away the strangeness, Hal twisted off the top and meandered over to the curtained windows as he sipped his protein shake. It wasn’t too bad. As usual, it was a pitiful attempt at strawberry but it didn’t make him sick to drink it.

On his budget, anything he could keep down was worth having.

One lazy arm reached out and swept aside the heavy curtains. Outside, cars moved about the late-night streets.

A massive eldritch abomination floated by the window, shaking the glass within its frame at its rumbling, otherworldly passage. Hal stared at it dispassionately as if it was just a bird flying past.

Down on the streets some four stories below, a fire was growing on the corner from some sort of crack in the asphalt. Unnamed horrors crawled out and began to crush the cars like they were toys.

He saw it all, heard it all, and with a shrug of apathetic detachment turned away and continued to drink his shake.

Somebody pounded at the door and Hal groaned. He didn’t have any friends that would visit him so late at night. And besides, he was still tired. He just wanted to go to his room and go to sleep.

The door shook with the intensity of the pounding and try as Hal might to ignore it, the visitor was resolute in their convictions.

Halfway to his room, he grumbled and turned back to the door. Trying to smooth his rumpled plaid shirt, Hal opened the door far enough that the chain snapped taut.

A visitor at this hour meant it was likely somebody complaining, a drunk who had the wrong door, or something else disruptive. Hal’s shock was complete when he saw Besal standing there. He was all shadow and starlight that was, as usual, hedonistically translucent.

The eldritch thing always flaunted his etherealness.

“What the… how is this…” Besal shook his head. “Let me in, Hal.”

“It’s late, Besal, go home. We’ll talk tomorrow. I had a really bad night, man.”

“Listen this isn’t what you think it is-”

Hal shook his head. “I know exactly what this is. Your girl kicked you out of your place - again - because you….” Hal trailed off, trying to catch his train of thought. Something about his stupid sexy translucency?

A flash of some show he must have watched ran through his head. He saw magic being flung about, large mantis creatures nearly overwhelming the heroes.

In that moment of confusion, Besal reached an arm through the gap and caught a fistful of Hal’s plaid shirt. “Listen to me, Hal! You have to let me in. I thought you had gone past this, but I can see that your mind is more mired in your failures than even I thought. Let me in, I can help.”

For some reason Hal didn’t fully understand, he nodded and Besal slipped his arm back through the gap. Hal closed the door, unlatched the chain, and opened it fully. Besal strode in, bumping Hal’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do?” Besal asked once Hal had the door closed behind him.

“Sleep.”

“Nothing else?” Besal asked, casting his red smoking eyes about the tiny apartment with a judgmental eye.

“Just sleep,” Hal confirmed. He hopped over the couch and flopped awkwardly onto it. Rather than fight it, he sighed and laid there watching Besal roam like a caged animal around his apartment.

“You don’t find anything… odd about the scenes in the street?” Besal asked.

Hal manufactured a shrug. “Should I?”

“This is worse than I thought.” Besal stomped over to the corner where Hal had a bunch of junk. “What’s this?” he asked, pulling out a rather beautiful sword of bone, its curved edge made of crystal that shifted between yellow and blue.

“I dunno, dude. Some cosplay prop probably. You want it? It’s yours if that’s what it’ll take for you to go home.”

Besal lifted it up and slammed it down on the coffee table, scattering old cups and plates to the side. “Take it,” he said.

“I don’t want to,” Hal said stubbornly.

“This is part of you, take it.”

Hal rolled his eyes at Besal but a faint flicker of desire unfurled in his chest. He wanted the sword. It was important, a part of him somehow, though he didn’t understand why he felt that way.

Just as he was reaching toward the sword, his cellphone rang. With a snort, he rolled over and reached toward his phone to see who was calling him. “Mom, of course. No doubt she wants to tell me everything that I’ve done wrong while pretending to check up on me.”

That same curling flame of desire within his breast told him not to answer the phone, but it was overridden by something much stronger. The weight of decades pressed in on Hal and forced his hand.

Tapping the phone on, Hal pressed it to his ear. “Hey, mom. What’s up?”

Besal reached forward and slapped at the phone but his hand passed straight through Hal and the phone. The man’s eyes widened with fear and horror as he stared at his rapidly vanishing form.

He looked up at Hal, staring hard at him.

All around Hal, the walls of the apartment began to fold in. Darkness collapsed the walls as the usual words of his mom - spoken in the most polite way possible, but with just enough disappointment threaded throughout them - spoke to him.

She wanted to know how he was doing. Did he need money again? How was his career shaping up? Question after question that reminded him of each of his failures.

He sat there, like the good little boy he was, nodding along and answering with a noncommittal reply whenever it was requested of him.

Meanwhile, his home vanished into the darkness around him, and he hardly noticed. Hardly cared.

Besal began to vanish in front of him. His voice came from far, far away.

And in that darkness, a spark of light. Something his mom said set it off into a greater blaze. Not just a lone, sad little candle flicker but a roaring flame.

Noth’s face came to him, smiling and strong. He didn’t know her, or recognize the woman but he understood the emotion he felt within his chest. More faces flashed across in the dark, friends that were unlike any he ever had before.

“Tammy is willing to meet with you,” his mom prattled on. “She’s a friend of a friend, dear. You can’t do much better than her. And she’s more than pretty enough for you. Time is running out to have a family. You know, when your father and I were your age we already had a home.”

Hal stood up and dropped the phone to the couch, only then noticing the strangeness of the world around him. He felt that overpowering urge to pick the phone back up again.

It was familiar. His life was comfortably unhappy. If he just returned to it, everything else would go away. All his worries, his fears, but also his hopes and his dreams, he realized.

Besal was almost invisible by the time Hal picked up his cellphone and chucked it into the darkness. He reached forward and grasped Besal’s extended arm.

Only then did he realize that Besal was talking to him, his voice so far away and distant that he couldn’t make it out. A flash of heat burned his chest and as Hal grasped at it, he started to fall backward.

Besal’s grip was steady and strong but he was so insubstantial that he couldn’t hold his feet. Hal pulled Besal along and together the pair fell into the darkness that closed in around them.

Hal focused on the faces of his friends, and strangely enough, he realized he considered Besal among them.

117

“Weak,” said a voice in the darkness.

Hal and Besal crashed into something solid but Hal couldn’t make out what it was. Everything was darkness.

“You would join yourself with a man of such weakness?” the rumbling voice asked.

Besal pulled himself up and somehow found the strength to help Hal to his feet. “I would,” he answered. “His past is full of mistakes, failures, and being controlled by malicious creatures. I would not be one of them.”

“He nearly fell back into the same patterns that trapped him before,” the voice said. “This one would have forsaken you to attain that level of self-loathing rather than assume a mantle of strength.”

“But he did not,” Besal argued. “When he could have shut me out, he let me in. When he could not hear me, he heeded me still. His weakness is wrought of being caged. I have seen his strength when he lets himself free.”

Hal looked at Besal then at the boundless darkness around them.

“You, human,” the voice said, addressing Hal finally. “You would not prefer to return to a life of mundane drudgery?”

It took him a few moments to reorient himself. A subtle intrusion tried to slip into his mind. It was the same feeling that pushed out the strangeness of being back in his apartment in Seattle.

The same force that sealed away his memories of friends and adventure. Memories he held dear and, despite their surrealness, would treasure until the end of his days. With surprising force, he pushed at that intrusion and the darkness seemed to recoil a little.

Those were his memories. He wasn’t about to forget them. Besal turned to him, a look of surprise and approval on his face.

Hal reached out into the darkness. He felt [Emissary] out there and he focused on it. The blade appeared in his palm with a painful slap. “I will never return to that life,” Hal said resolutely.

Rolling the blade over in his hand, he lunged forward and cut at the darkness. Light peeked out from the gash Hal had made. The rip in the darkness continued to stretch and yawn wide, pulling back until Besal and Hal appeared back in the clearing within the Shiverglades.

A dark indistinct form floated above the pair. The shifting thing turned into a roiling pit of darkness the size of a small car. Somehow, the most surprising thing of all was that the floating roiling darkness spoke. “Close your eyes and hold your hands out toward me.”

Hal looked over to see Besal shutting his eyes and holding a hand out toward the darkness. He shut his eyes and followed suit.

The voice, rich and resonate, filled his mind. “Breathe. Slower… slower. Your past is part of who you are. You must accept this. The person you were does not dictate the one you shall be. Every day we are remade by our actions.

“Let go of the past and take your first step freed from these shackles you once allowed to be chained to your person. They have no power over you if you do not permit them. Stand upon solid ground once more. Know your worth.”

Hal felt a lightness enter his body with each deep breath. Strength surged through his limbs. When he opened his eyes, Besal was gone and so was the large roiling mass.

He didn’t need the notification that followed to know that he had successfully completed his first Dark Communion. Something was different about him. He was still freezing, that hadn’t changed, but he felt lighter. Freer.

Class Quest: Dark Communion

You have passed the first Communion with Besal, and with your past. Two more Communions are required.

Objectives

- Perform 3 Dark Communions with Besal.

- Perform Communion of Antiquity (Completed).

- Preserve Hal’s life.

- Preserve Besal’s life.

- Additional objectives available.

Rewards

- Enhanced Strain limit.

- Enhanced Beastborne abilities, spells, and skills.

- Access to Beastborne Zenith: Delirium.

- Additional rewards available.

Hal looked around at the clearing, his eyes finally fell upon the large beetle off to the side, still feasting on the Flytraps. It watched him but didn’t move closer. But Hal also noticed that it didn’t flee.

Need to get warm first, he thought.

A simple mental command had the bone claws on his hand melting away to nothingness. He hadn’t tried using something so simple before. For some reason, after he gained Bonecrafting, he didn’t seem to think too much of Blades of Bone or Bone Armor despite both having some interesting utility.

Like many of his abilities, he needed to spend some time experimenting and testing their limits.

Splicing shadow, eldritch, and aberration, Hal ventured into the woods to look for deadfall and kindling. He carried back an armload of the stuff and set up a rudimentary campfire with the supplies in his inventory.

No longer needing his Shadesight, Hal swapped out shadow for insect essence. Both eldritch and aberration were far too useful - and powerful - for him to abandon in such a dangerous place.

But he needed a terrestrial essence to tie himself to the world around him. It grounded his senses and expanded them far beyond what Shadesight could do. He could feel creatures out there and they were aware of him.

Sitting in front of the warming fire, Hal finally started to thaw out.

Your Survival has risen to Level 5.

+5% Camping regeneration (225%).

+5% Flora & Fauna identification. (+25%).

+1% Well Rested bonus (+5%).

You no longer suffer the effect of Exhaustion (Lv.1).

You no longer suffer the effect of Biting Cold.

Your synchronization with Besal has risen to 30%.

You gain the effect of Camping.

+225% HP Regeneration.

+225% SP Regeneration.

+225% MP Regeneration.

+100% Healing effects.

Duration: While Camping.

Hal took out some seriously aged [Rations] from his lone [Adventurer’s Kit]. From it, he also took out a [Bedroll] but kept the [Tent] stowed away. He didn’t intend to sleep longer than was required.

Which, for him, wasn’t long at all.

Besides, from the way Besal spoke of the Dark Communion, he would need to find another area that contained a fight such as the one he was fortunate enough to just drop in on.

It wasn’t like he would magically stumble upon a place replete with mana and ancient conflict. Any future site for his Dark Communion would no doubt need to be created.

While he warmed in front of the fire, Hal looked over the deluge of EXP and Skill Level Up notifications he had gained from fighting the Thesps earlier, and the Flytraps and beetles just recently. He mechanically ate the [Rations] which kept him fed but didn’t provide any sort of benefit whatsoever.

Your Improvised Weaponry Skill has risen to Level 17.

+2% Improvised Weapon damage (+34%).

+2% Improvised Weapon attack speed (+34%).

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 21.

…

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 23.

+1% Sword damage (+23%).

-0.25% Sword durability loss (-5.75%).

Your Parry Skill has risen to Level 10.

Your Parry Skill has risen to Level 11.

+1% Parry success (+11%).

-1% Stamina cost (-11%).

You have 1 Parry Perk point awaiting assignment.

Your Evasion Skill has risen to Level 16.

+1% Evasion speed (+16%).

-1% Stamina cost (-16%).

Your Enfeebling Magic has risen to Level 19.

Your Enfeebling Magic has risen to Level 20.

+1% Enfeebling success (+20%).

+2% Enfeebling duration (+40%).

+5% Enfeebling magic resistance (+20%).

You have 1 Enfeebling Magic Perk point awaiting assignment.

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 10.

+1% Planning efficacy (+10%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+10%).

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics (-5.0%).

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters (+5.0%).

You have 1 Tactician Skill Perk point awaiting assignment.

Your Beast Magic has risen to Level 26.

…

Your Beast Magic has risen to Level 29.

+3% Beast Magic potency (+87%).

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Hal sat back and stared at it all. He had 3 total perks to spend, as well as 5 attribute points. Those, at least, he could easily decide upon without much deliberation.

All 5 points went into VIT, raising it to 35. With his armor in tatters, he needed every defensive edge he could manage.

That was something that, sooner than later, he was going to have to deal with. He had no ability to repair his gear. But, sitting in front of a fire his MP regeneration was more than doubled to 477.

With that much MP, he might be able to cobble something together. As soon as he ventured away from the fire he would be too cold. He needed armor, but he needed insulation more.

Venturing deeper into the Shiverglades without the ability to restore his HP, SP, or MP was simply suicidal.

As for all the perks, he decided to wait until morning. He was bone-weary and the warmth of the flames was lulling him to sleep.

Barely able to keep his eyes open, Hal crawled into his sleeping bag and pillowed his head on his arm. He drew [Emissary] and kept it within easy reach.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that sleeping next to a campfire was dangerous. They attracted monsters after all. But he felt reasonably sure that the collection of plantoid corpses nearby would cause any curious creatures to think twice about interrupting his sleep.

The last thing he saw was the oversized rhinoceros beetle inch toward the fire and rest nearby across from Hal. It was doing its utmost to remain unthreatening and so Hal dismissed it from his thoughts.

Hal fell into an easy and deep sleep. One blessedly free of any dreams.

118

Well-rested - quite literally, as Hal noticed the buff appear upon waking - Hal stretched his arms toward the glittering canopy far above him. Leaves rustled on an unfelt breeze somewhere up above, their green edges catching and fracturing the sunlight in a brilliant display.

Sunlight?

Hal looked around, realizing that he hadn’t slept his usual few hours but much longer. It couldn’t have been much after midnight when he bedded down by his very rough estimation.

And yet, he could see the sun peeking out, casting bright bars of light through the canopy to create pools of brilliance in the dappled shadows around.

The fire was, somehow, still burning and kept him warm. A curious thing, since his Survival wasn’t high enough to do anything of that sort.

His question was answered shortly later by a scuttling, shuffling sound off to the side of the clearing.

Through the underbrush, the rhinoceros beetle scurried toward the campsite. Balanced upon its one unbroken horn was a set of logs and smaller branches. It was kindling, Hal noticed. In fact, it looked a lot like a discarded and disused nest of some sort.

The creature didn’t so much balance its load upon the horn as pierce through the roughly woven material. It turned to regard Hal a moment, then continued on its scurrying way to the fire, shaking free some of the twigs and smaller branches to drop into the fire.

Depositing its burden, the beetle regarded Hal with glittering black eyes. Hal could detect neither maliciousness nor aggression within. It was a wild animal, but there was something oddly docile about it.

Wary of his new friend, Hal slipped out of his bedroll and rolled up to his feet easily. Only in the filtering light of midday did Hal realize just how poorly damaged his armor was.

He let out a sigh at the state of things.

Everything except for his [Leaping Boots], his [Lunette Ring], [Bomb Ring], and his [Mana-Tempered Circlet] was absolutely trashed.

As soon as he stepped away from the campfire for any length of time, he would succumb to the cold. Without the heat-enchanted [Shardite], he would have been frozen in his previous outfit. Perhaps not to the point of gaining a debuff, but undoubtedly uncomfortable.

That was when it hit him. How alone he was. His party list was still grayed out, which meant that they had not managed to get any closer. He still didn’t hear the keinse anywhere, and he doubted the wisdom of making noises to attract their keen ears.

For all he knew, the others had gone in the opposite direction of his flight in search of him. It wasn’t as if they could have seen exactly where he went or where he landed.

The keinse might have, but at best they could provide a general area.

Shaking his head, Hal tried to dismiss the gloomy thoughts. They weren’t helpful. The beetle ambled over to one of the corpses of the monsters from last night and began to nibble on it.

The bodies had been spread out in an irregular circular pattern around the campfire in something akin to a perimeter.

“Did you do that?” Hal asked the beetle.

It merely looked up at him. Perhaps it was a curious look, though Hal couldn’t really tell. This wasn’t like when he stumbled across Vorax. The beetle was far less intelligent.

Still, it seemed kind enough not to gore him in his sleep or try to hurt him.

“Good enough for me,” he muttered to himself and took out another box of [Rations]. He chewed the bland food mechanically as he went through a series of limbering stretches.

Sleeping on the cold hard forest floor - even with the meager padding of the bedroll - wasn’t enjoyable.

As he flowed through the stretching forms Angram had taught him, he went over his perks.

He had a lot to do. If his party hadn’t found him yet, it was likely he was much deeper into the Shiverglades than he thought.

And that meant he needed to find a way to make himself capable of surviving the harsh climate of the Shiverglades without constantly stopping to create a campfire. One that would undoubtedly attract unwelcome guests.

He took another look at the ring of plantoid corpses, wondering if that was why he was able to sleep through the night without being troubled.

With a shrug, his arms reaching toward the sky with fingers spread wide, Hal turned his attention back to his perks.

You have 1 Parry Perk point awaiting assignment.

Riposte 0/1

Counterattack a parried blow with one of your own, dealing Critical Hit damage and piercing armor.

Divest 0/1

Using your chain, ensnare an opponent’s parried weapon, ripping it from their grasp. If the weapon is incapable of being removed, weapon damage is reduced by 25%.

Fencer 0/5

While wielding a single weapon, your Weaponskill damage increases, and your chances to parry increase.

Lv.1: +5% Weaponskill damage | +5% Parry chance.

Lv.2: +7% Weaponskill damage | +7% Parry chance.

Lv.3: +10% Weaponskill damage | +10% Parry chance.

Lv.4: +15% Weaponskill damage | +15% Parry chance.

Lv.5: +20% Weaponskill damage | +20% Parry chance.

Hal’s preferred method of fighting was to use a chain in his off-hand and a sword in his main. With the [Chain of Binding’s] enchantment, it let him get in and out of engagements quickly, often to the surprise of his adversaries.

He saw no reason to change that, which meant that Fencer was immediately out of the running. And while Divest sounded incredibly nice, Hal favored a more aggressive fighting style that a Beastborne was suited for.

Riposte wasn’t terribly illuminating as to just how much damage it did or how Critical Hit damage differed from normal damage. In either case, it was the only way to turn a defensive move into an aggressively offensive one.

Something he knew Besal would surely agree with.

“And since when do you care what I think?” Besal asked curiously. Was it Hal’s imagination, or did he seem… tired? Ever since their first Communion, Besal had been utterly silent.

“Whether you care or not,” Hal subvocalized, “the point still stands.”

“And that is?” Besal asked, his voice betraying a hint of amusement.

“That Beastborne is not a defensive Class. It is aggressive, and attempting to do otherwise is to my detriment.”

“You are learning.”

Hal selected Riposte and looked over his Enfeebling Magic perks.

You have 1 Enfeebling Magic Perk point awaiting assignment.

Nemesis 0/1

Deal 15% extra damage to the last creature you’ve enfeebled.

Dream Thief 0/1

Take the dreams of the sleeping, empowering your next enfeebling spell by 50%.

Shatter 1/3

Enfeebling spells apply a 10% MDEF reduction.

Lv1: 10% MDEF reduction.

Lv2: 15% MDEF reduction.

Lv3: 25% MDEF reduction.

Hal went ahead and picked up the next tier of Shatter. That was something he already knew to pick. The 15% MDEF reduction on enemies affected by Enchainment and Bloodrake was too useful compared to his other choices, and at the third level, it would jump another 10%. It would synergize very well with his Beast Magic.

He had long ago learned that MDEF and DEF were not a direct 1 to 1 ratio of defense to damage. Raising (or in this case, lowering) MDEF a single point did not mean it reduced or increased damage by a single point.

There was some deeper mechanic at play that Hal still didn’t quite grasp. But with magic as one of his primary means of dispatching threats, it would be insane not to increase his magical damage.

And Shatter had the benefit of increasing everybody else’s magical damage as well.

Coupled with his Elder Prowess monster attunement (so long as he was Splicing eldritch essence), he would be almost dealing double damage with his Beast Magic once Shatter was Level 3.

Elder Prowess increased his magic potency by 50%, while Shatter reduced a target’s MDEF by 15% at Level 2, and 25% at Level 3. And that didn’t touch on the predator and prey relationship Beast Magic exploited.

If he included his Patient Offense perk from Evasion, he could conceivably stack his damage buffs to the point of ridiculous damage. As he gained more Beast Magic spells and expanded his essences, the bonuses from Splice II would lend even more weight to his Beast Magic spells.

While he didn’t know the percentage increase of using Splice in that way, he was eager to find out.

All that was left to pick was his Tactician perk.

You have 1 Tactician Perk point awaiting assignment.

Drawing Board 0/5

By taking a Building Schematic and studying it, you are able to improve upon its design. The length of time taken to make improvements is based upon the difference in your Tactician Level and the Item Level of the Building Schematic. You can improve a Building Schematic a number of times equal to the Level of Drawing Board.

Lv.1: +3% Building Schematic Parameters | -3% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.2: +6% Building Schematic Parameters | -6% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.3: +10% Building Schematic Parameters | -10% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.4: +15% Building Schematic Parameters | -15% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Lv.5: +20% Building Schematic Parameters | -20% Building Schematic CP Cost.

Cruel Machinations 1/5

Trapmaking is a curious art, one which its creator rarely sees the fruits of their labor. By making modifications to the designs of traps you create or oversee, you increase the Critical Hit chance of each trap. Additionally, you gain a portion of the EXP that would have been gained if you slew the creature yourself.

Lv.1: +5% Critical Hit chance | 10% EXP gained.

Lv.2: +10% Critical Hit chance | 15% EXP gained.

Lv.3: +15% Critical Hit chance | 20% EXP gained.

Lv.4: +20% Critical Hit chance | 25% EXP gained.

Lv.5: +30% Critical Hit chance | 30% EXP gained.

An easy enough choice, given his current predicament and circumstance. Buoyed by the fact that Tactician gained perks at twice the rate of most other skills, Hal put another point into Cruel Machinations.

If he was going to have to stay out in the wilds of the Shiverglades for two more nights to finish his Dark Communion, he would likely have to set some traps to protect his campsite.

Either that or sleep in a tree. And that wasn’t a prospect Hal was terribly comfortable with.

Perks dealt with, his stats sorted from last night, Hal finished up his stretches and put away his things. He cast a glance over at the beetle, engrossed in its meal. It seemed much more interested in its meal than Hal had been over his tasteless [Rations].

Hal stripped off all of his broken clothes and set them out in front of himself as he sat back down. “Time to see if my Bonecrafting can make something a bit more… advanced.”

119

He stared at his ruined armor, particularly at the [Brave Belt] and [Spaulder of the Ravenblessed]. Two items he was quite fond of, particularly the 10 MP per kill the spaulder supplied.

More than that, these pieces had become part of his identity. And they had been gifts from the koblins.

But they were old, he had to admit. Most of the items were over a month old and many Levels weaker than he was now. Even some of the rarer items with their higher Item Levels were below Hal’s current Level of 42.

Bone Armor would allow him to create a rudimentary set of armor about his body - one piece at a time - but it would be considerably weaker he knew than if he took the proper time to create something.

As he looked at his old outfit, he wondered if he could somehow salvage it.

Bonecrafting’s third stage allowed him to imbue his creation with a variety of different materials, often taking on their unique facets.

He didn’t have nearly enough [Glittersilk Cocoons] to make a garment out of, but what if he used the tattered threads of his [Shaper’s Coat] and the rest of his ruined armor?

With his bonuses gone from most of his equipment, Hal was sitting at an even 800 MP. He could recover roughly half of that an hour if he kept the fire stoked and stayed near it.

Unlike any Bonecrafters he taught the crafting skill to, Hal didn’t need to forage for raw materials. He could make them out of his mana. With the additional 200 MP he could draw on from [Emissary], the bone blanks he could make now would be dramatically stronger than anything he had made before.

Taking one more look around the clearing, Hal got to work.

Essence Imbuement gave him the ability to create bones of the various monsters he had at least 100% affinity with. After a brief bit of experimentation, he found that he didn’t need to be Splicing their essence to create their bones.

With 9 total affinities, he could make quite a few varieties of bone.

For the better part of the day, Hal experimented further, testing out each of the most basic 100 MP versions of each type of bone.

While he wasn’t terribly fond of creating goblin bones, he was glad to be alone for this bit of his experimentation. It just didn’t feel right, considering koblins shared much of the same anatomy as goblins.

As he had expected, goblin bones were small and lightweight, almost bird-like in their hollow design. Rather than focusing on making the bones a certain way, he let them manifest naturally.

Hal was no engineer, but he at least knew enough about compression, tensile, and shear strength to give the bones a decent battery of tests.

Each of the bones created something distinct, much to his joy and frustration in equal measure.

It meant that he needed to be more careful in his selection. Every bone had its own characteristics and quirks. Many of which he was just scratching the surface.

Goblin bones were small and fairly flexible but had ridiculously weak strength. If a blade came against them and they couldn’t bend out of the way, they would snap like twigs.

However, if he gave them room to bend, most of the blows he could deal with [Emissary] were remarkably weathered with minimal damage.

Considering he was thinking of something to armor himself with, goblin bones - thankfully - were out. Though he could think of a few applications for their strange springiness. Nothing that would help him at the moment, however.

Shadow bones reminded him of something similar to black aerogel. They were incredibly light and almost gelatinous. Every test he gave them they failed, all but one.

His sword sunk into the gooey bone but he struggled to cut through the material the entire way. Like trying to cut through rubber, a great deal of his force was dissipated.

While testing its compression, he found that the shadow bones were more rubber-like than he thought. They moved and bulged when he applied force, but then resumed their original shape.

They would be terrible to build with. It was a good thing [Eldritch Palisade Spikes] were used for some of the Settlement’s walls, not [Shadow Palisade Spikes].

Hal was eager to see how the few [Shadow Palisade Spikes] back at the Settlement weathered the coming assault. The sword cuts he placed into the bone seemed to heal after a short period of time, making the material whole and unblemished once more.

Terrible for traditional building, but he was curious if they would hold up well on the outside of Earthen Bulwarks to resist clawing hands and whatever weapons the Shiverglades could throw at them.

Arcana bones were all strange in one regard or another. Shadow was less bone and more like padding - something he intended to use for his new armor. Doll bones were brittle ceramic, but they had great insulating properties.

The shard he placed in the fire was still cool enough that he could simply pull it out with his bare hands.

Mimic bones were a strange mixture of metal banding and non-flammable wood. They seemed to have similar properties to normal wood - aside from the fireproof nature - but he couldn’t figure out anything else special about them.

And to be honest, he didn’t really have the time to give exhaustive tests. Right now, his goal was to find something useful he could use to armor himself instead of outrightly using his normal bones.

He saw how easily that Thesp had shattered them and wasn’t keen on a repeat performance.

Already he had plenty of ideas for how he could create a layered armor consisting of shadow, doll, and aberration bone. The shadow bones would provide padding, doll bones would grant insulation and the aberration bones would serve as a strong outer layer of slowly regenerating defense.

What rudimentary tests Hal could do sitting in front of a campfire helped him to figure out the basic parameters of each of the bones. Aberration bones regenerated their damage slowly over time, significantly faster than shadow. They were neither light nor heavy, and seemed to be all-around sturdy.

Treant bones were nothing more than incredibly useful kindling. Like the Treants, they were ridiculously flammable. The wood was living and green, but that didn’t stop the hungry flames from biting and consuming it.

They also slowly regenerated damage dealt to them over time, the wound filling in with a shimmering green sap. Naturally, that green sap was practically as flammable as gunpowder.

When a spark leaped from the campfire to the dried sap filling the old wound, there was a flash of light and a small pop. Hal jumped to his feet, drew out [Emissary], and looked around for the threat.

His beetle friend similarly got up and scuttled about looking for the danger before Hal realized what it was. The treant bone burned steadily, and Hal kicked it into the ravenous flames with the toe of his boot.

Despite Splicing what the beetle might have seen as a tasty snack - not to mention the many other essences he cycled through while testing Bonecrafting - the Rhino Beetle made no aggressive action toward him.

Once he sat back down, the beetle sensed the shift in Hal’s mood and similarly laid down to rest. For some reason, the creature never went far from Hal. An hour ago, while Hal snacked on one of his [Rations], the beetle ambled over to nibble at one of the monsters Hal had destroyed yesterday.

At least it’s not carnivorous, Hal thought.

Eldritch bone was, as he noted before, a beautiful pale white streaked with red. However, it was incredibly dense and heavy. Far too heavy to be used as armor, though its defensive properties were closer to metal than bone which was a shame.

As he Spliced insect essence, the Rhino Beetle perked up and looked at him with its unblinking stare.

Unsurprisingly, his two vermin essences of insect and spider both created chitinous plates as their bone. Insect produced beetle-like shells that were naturally curved and light-weight, with ridges that helped to strengthen them while retaining their low weight.

Spider bones were far too creepy looking for Hal but they were more flexible than the insect variant. He wasn’t about to turn up his nose at it just because he didn’t like the way they looked. As he looked at the collection of different bones, each with their own unique properties, a plan began to form.

120

For his efforts in figuring out the various properties of the essence bones, Hal’s Bonecrafting and Tactician rose more than he figured they would.

It felt good to be rewarded for tinkering and experimenting.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 16.

…

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 18.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+19.8%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+21.6%).

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 11.

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 12.

+1% Planning efficacy (+12%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+12%).

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics (-6.0%).

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters (+6.0%).

Focusing, brow furrowed in deep concentration, Hal tried thinning the shadowy essence over the [Doll Plate]. He pushed a little too hard and the shadow snapped in half, dissipating like fog before the midday sun.

He grumbled and leaned away from his latest attempt.

“You’re reaching,” Besal said, sitting crosslegged like Hal across from the dying embers of their campfire.

Hal looked over at him. He knew it. Besal was just giving voice to a problem he should have stopped beating his head against an hour ago.

What he was trying to do was too complicated for his skill. But layering multiple types of material into one composite kind of armor was a good idea.

He was sure of that.

Unfortunately, Besal was right. He was reaching too far. And he didn’t have the time - nor the Founder’s Day buff - to bolster his Bonecrafting enough to try it again.

He needed insulation, most of the other bones would provide good armor, but doll essence provided the best insulation by far.

Unfortunately, it was brittle and couldn’t take much direct damage.

If he was going to be exploring while avoiding any sort of conflict, then the issue was primarily sorted. But if his armor broke at the first sign of fighting, he would have to remake it after every fight.

That would take time he didn’t really want - or have - to spend.

Making layered essence bones was difficult. They didn’t want to bind together correctly, and this was just the first stage of Bonecrafting.

If he couldn’t make it work here, then how was he going to manage the other four stages? Creation was the first and easiest of the four. But if he couldn’t mold the material properly, he would be unable to press on to the next stage.

Hal stroked his chin and looked at the material before him. He could create a breastplate of doll essence, that was simple enough. Its incredible insulation properties would ward off the biting chill of the Shiverglades and keep the Exhaustion debuff at bay.

But it wasn’t enough.

Shadow essence would soften any impacts he took, and that was his original plan for layering shadow essence atop doll essence. The shadow would absorb the impact, making the brittleness of the doll essence less of an issue.

And on top of that, he planned to put aberration bone, with its sturdiness and self-healing properties, it would be his first line of defense. One that would constantly - albeit slowly - regenerate. Between the aberration layer and the shadow layer, the insulating layer of doll essence should have held against any attack.

But he couldn’t even get the first layers right. Hal turned to look over the campfire at Besal. If he had any advice for Hal, he wasn’t sharing it. He knew Hal’s mind and what he was working on.

Besal placed his hand on the beetle, the large dog-sized creature shifted to look at him, then at Hal before settling down again. Catching Hal’s gaze, Besal simply shrugged. Wordlessly communicating that he hadn’t the first idea how to help Hal.

So much had changed with Besal now that he looked for it. He actively wanted to help. That was quite a far cry from when Besal only wanted Hal to fight bigger, nastier things like some rage-filled beast.

In a short time, Besal had come around to Hal’s view of things. On some things at least. They didn’t need to kill every monster that they came across. There was no reason for unnecessary fighting if they could form a mutually beneficial relationship.

However, he was still Besal. He wanted to fight and test their powers whenever and wherever possible. The difference was, he no longer sought out conflict at the cost of everything else.

Granted, Hal didn’t know why he liked the Rhino Beetle. It was about as cute as a bug could get, he guessed. At least it wasn’t a spider. He shivered at the memory of the spiders from the Glimmerwood.

I need to give you a name, Hal thought looking at the Rhino Beetle.

Besal shook his head with a laugh. “You and your names. Must everything be categorized?”

“Yes,” Hal responded instantly. “It helps to be able to name things, to know where they come from and what they are. I am still human.” When Besal gave him a look, Hal rolled his eyes and corrected himself, “Mostly human, then.”

Hal turned back to his task. He was trying to do too much at once. If he could just focus on making something that gave him decent protection and kept the cold at bay, that would be enough.

The rest he could focus on at a later date. When he wasn’t lost in the Shiverglades and when he could have plenty of time to tinker.

Each of his essence bones had varying properties that he felt he was only beginning to comprehend. With time and effort, he knew he could plumb the depths of what they could offer.

At that point, he felt confident it would only take raising his skill with Bonecrafting and continuing to press the boundaries of what was possible to be able to make layered armor.

But that point was far off from where he was.

“Maybe I’m thinking about this all wrong,” Hal muttered to himself, dismissing the progress he had already made.

Even in failure, Hal began to grasp a deeper understanding of Bonecrafting and his own limitations. He was hardly surprised when, just a moment later, he received a notification.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 19.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+20.9%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+22.8%).

A wave of mana washed out from the half-made breastplate. He wanted something sturdier, proper armor that wasn’t just cloth.

The damage he’d taken - even with Bone Armor - in the last fight had shown him a weakness he didn’t really consider much before. He thought he could keep out of the way with Convergence and his [Chain of Binding], allowing him to get out of tight quarters.

But there were times that he had no other choice than to be up close and personal with an enemy. In those moments, he would need better defenses than he had.

And cloth, no matter how stout and thickly padded, was simply not going to cut it. At the same time, he couldn’t just armor himself in metal. It was too heavy and restrictive. Not to mention that it wasn’t even an option at the moment.

The Settlement had a small supply of metal ore, and he had no idea when they would find more. Or even if they would. The veins - if there were any - in their Settlement might be copper or gold, or some other metal that wasn’t useful for armor.

He had no idea how long their supply of ore would last and he had a sneaking suspicion that higher tier Building Schematics would require iron, if not more exotic metals to build.

Hal had to make sure their supplies stretched as far as possible.

His normal bone created with Bonecrafting wasn’t insulative enough and aside from his ruined clothes, he had no cloth. Bonecrafting - particularly Hal’s brand of it - was incredibly versatile but even it had its limits.

He could make something approximating cloth, but it took rare and difficult-to-acquire ingredients of which he did not have sufficient amounts.

Slowly, his thoughts slipped back to the notification of Splice II.

What was it that it said?

With a mental command, Hal pulled up his recently improved ability.

You learn Splice II.

Splice can now utilize three separate monster essences at once. Stacking multiple essences from the same family increases the effectiveness of both essences and the spells of that family.

Looking at his essences, everything was listed as a family.

While undead was the overarching monster family, aberration - a subcategory of undead - was also considered a monster family.

It was worse with more essences under the same family. Arcana was the monster family above shadow, doll, and mimic families.

Okay, that’s too confusing. There are families of spells and monster families? Can I change that?

Thinking on it, Hal tried to impress his own will upon the description. His understanding of Beastborne essences was always somewhat scant, but he absolutely hated the way the System made everything seem so similar.

As he closed his eyes, a flash of light crossed his vision, and his eyes shot open. He needn’t have bothered since he could see prompts and notifications without opening his eyes, but it was a reflex.

Altered Naming Scheme

Do you wish to finalize your naming scheme: Monster Families -> (Subcategory: Monster Types)?

Hal immediately confirmed, and then looked at his essences. They were categorized differently. Now, the monster family meant the overarching classification. Undead was considered a monster family, but aberration was considered a type.

Less confusing for sure, but not entirely helpful to his situation.

At least he could reference aberration type without confusing it for the overarching family of undead.

His mind kept going back to Splice II’s description. Splicing multiple essence types of the same family would increase the effectiveness of the essences themselves. But what did that mean?

Spells would be easy to test... if he had any that qualified.

He had no arcana-based spells at all, and under the monster family of undead, he only had aberration essence. In fact, every spell he did have was either from the same monster type or one belonging to an entirely different monster family.

But the effect of splicing multiple essences of the same monster family… that he could test. While it was customary for Hal to Splice aberration for its hearty defensive buffs, and eldritch for its ridiculous offensive strength, he now was beginning to use shadow as his third. Except when he needed a terrestrial essence.

Shadow essence had useful utility and was among one of his most potent essences. He didn’t have enough affinity with doll or mimic to grant monster attunements so he had never tried to Splice them alongside shadow.

But what if he did? And more to the point, what if instead of layering the essences, he tried to combine them into an entirely new essence?

121

Channeling both doll essence and shadow essence, Hal began the first stage of Bonecrafting. Placing his hands forward, palms downturned, he deposited the dual-essence laden mana.

Though he kept in mind the shape of a breastplate, the resulting shape that began to form was rougher than he was used to. It hardly resembled the image he had in his mind, though he noted it did have the four openings he would need in order to wear it.

Its rough shape wasn’t so much an issue at the moment. He focused on keeping the essences mixed, curious as to the final product.

He knew it would make more sense to make a simple, easy blank the first time. After all, he was not used to mixing essences in that manner, and further complicating the design seemed destined for trouble.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself.

Making the breastplate was relatively easy, considering the complexity of the mana he was creating it with. He didn’t need to make much beyond a shell. And so Hal focused on the way he let the mana flow from his fingertips.

Much like how he created that first [Bone Falchion] that would one day serve as the basis for [Emissary], he began to toy with the various methods of creating bone.

At its core, Bonecrafting with his mana allowed Hal to make a number of rough adjustments that would usually be impossible.

By altering the flow and modulating his mana, he could create gaps within the internal structure of the bone. Expanding those gaps would lead to a lighter weight, and if done properly, would not reduce the durability or effectiveness of the item.

The adjustments, however, lacked a delicate touch.

Hal could make bone incredibly thick and dense - suitable for the edge of a blade, or a shield perhaps - but he couldn’t directly refine an edge that would be any sharper than a butter knife.

That would fall under the purview of Bonecrafting’s second stage, refinement. While he could make sweeping changes with the first stage of creation, refinement allowed him to dial in those alterations to exacting specifications.

While Hal was adjusting the mana that flowed from his palms, he continued to channel shadow and doll essence. As he worked to deposit mana in an expanded form, more akin to the natural structure of bone than the denser variety he had used for [Emissary], he stumbled upon a new way to create bone.

The process of using his mana to deposit essence-laden bone was not mentally taxing, though it did require constant attention. In one instance, as he was letting his mind wander, he failed to maintain the equilibrium between doll and shadow essence.

Shadow dominated almost entirely, and it took Hal several seconds to correct the supposed error. He couldn’t stop the process or else the bone would completely solidify, and then he would have to start all over. So, instead, he examined the breastplate to see just how bad his error was.

So intrinsically tied to it through his own mana, Hal could feel the change he had inadvertently caused.

While the mixture of shadow and doll was yet to be proven as viable - he still had about 300 MP more to go until he was finished - the alteration he made was intriguing.

Typically, bone possesses a great deal of empty space between its ossified matter.

What Hal accidentally did, however, was lean the alignment of the bone’s internal structure heavily - almost entirely, actually - into shadow. The result was a light, spongy inner layer of bone.

One that he could tell without testing, would bend and absorb the blows aimed at the armor. He couldn’t exactly layer the armor with the alternating doll and shadow bone, but he could shift the essence alignment to create a similar effect.

And if he could do that with the inner layer between the bone, he could do it elsewhere.

Inspired by the new shift in creation, Hal worked to continually alter the ratio of doll and shadow essence as he deposited the mana onto the bone blank before him.

Besal watched wordlessly, Hal only looked up once or twice to find the man watching with a look of sincere interest.

Hal didn’t let his thoughts linger long on that, however, and he continued with the creation of the breastplate blank. When he finally finished, he was tapped out. His MP was thoroughly drained.

With the bonuses from the campfire, it would take him a couple of hours to fully regenerate. However, tapping Assimilation, Hal could-

“Allow me,” Besal said, startling Hal out of his attempt to use Assimilation to recover some of his MP.

He didn’t need much for the second stage of Bonecrafting, a few hundred MP would be enough. That would allow him to manipulate the bone and apply the many minor alterations he knew it would need.

Besal shut his eyes, and Hal felt a wellspring of mana open up to him. Hal reached toward it with his mind and felt his reserves of mana slowly fill up.

His MP bar began to fill with increasing rapidity until it was nearly full.

“How?” Hal asked.

Hal’s counterpart took a moment to gather himself. It had clearly drained him considerably to offer up so much mana, but not nearly as much as it would have drained himself, Hal noticed. That suggested Besal had greater reserves of MP than even he did.

Flashing bright white teeth with prominent canines, Besal said, “What, did you think that because we lacked Sympathy you could not call upon my power? What greater bond is there than the one we share? My strength is yours should you need to call upon it.

“Ever has it been so, and ever have you spurned it.” Besal raised a hand to cut off Hal’s coming retort. “With good reason. But this comes with no strings attached. Your health is my health. I would no sooner wish you come to harm than myself.”

“Thank you,” Hal said, unsure of how to react to any of that.

“All you need to do is ask,” Besal said.

MP nearly full, Hal nodded to Besal and bent back to the task at hand. But he couldn’t stop his mind from reeling at the potential possibilities of what Besal just admitted.

Unlike a blade, the breastplate only needed to be refined enough to the point that it was the correct dimensions and shape he wanted. He could no longer turn it into anything other than a breastplate, but he could create ridges and curves that would aid in the defense or shore up weaknesses in the material.

Much of it was done by instinct. Hal knew enough that a curve could be used to reinforce a thinner, weaker area of armor, but he didn’t know the how or why of it.

He just knew that it would work. And where he could reinforce the armor, he did. Going by feel as much as look, Hal let his mana flow in a steady trickle into the breastplate to change its shape.

What was once a shell of dark material became ridged with graceful curving arcs and embellishments that were pleasant to look at but practical in nature. Everything served to keep the breastplate as mobile as possible without hindering its defense.

The creation process was far from exact or perfect. And at his current skill, he doubted it would be any different for a long time. There were many places he needed to adjust, sections of the armor that were too thin or too thick.

Rather than spending days at a time sanding, smoothing, filing, or deburring the material, Hal could do that work in a few hours. It took mana to do so, but he had a steady supply of it.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 20.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+22%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+24%).

+10% CP generation (+40%).

You have 1 Bonecrafting Perk point awaiting assignment.

And so Hal worked, putting off the perk assignment until he was able to divert his attention. It was oddly peaceful, almost zen-like as he refined the armor’s design and shape. Despite the danger he knew to lurk all around him, he felt safe with Besal and his yet-to-be-named Rhino Beetle companion.

Besal paced about the clearing, at times slipping away into the forest, but he never ventured far. Always, Hal could feel where he was.

They would never be able to hide from each other.

With that thought playing through his head, Hal finished his work on the breastplate. His eyes lingered on the ruined [Shaper’s Coat] nearby. During the second stage of Bonecrafting he could add items to alter the strength or composition of the created piece.

The breastplate he was making was reasonably pretty, but there was little comfort in it. That, and his arms would be bare. Without the ability to create leather or cloth, there wasn’t much he could do about that. And coating himself in plates of bone would require something to connect them, and he wasn’t quite able to make something so sophisticated yet.

Like layering two different types of essence bones, he would need to bind the material together somehow with another essence.

If he chose to assemble the pieces by hand, not only would they be significantly weaker, but he doubted he could do it. He had no skill in making armor, only in creating bone.

And there was a clear line between the two. If he couldn’t create the item whole, then it fell out of his range of capability.

On a whim, mostly since he knew he could reverse it, Hal grabbed the tattered remnants of his [Shaper’s Coat] and placed it atop the breastplate.

In the blink of an eye, the item changed.

122

The dark breastplate remained, though it was greatly altered. The addition of the [Shaper’s Coat] had turned the breastplate into something more, a full-length cloak complete with hood.

Hal’s [Shaper’s Coat] had kept only part of its coloration; instead of purple, the cloth was a dusty, almost faded blue with curling traceries of a lighter blue.

And the cloth was something between leather and silk. It was smooth and fine to the touch but surprisingly tough with a faint stretching give to it.

His breastplate was still there, but it was altered from a stiff and solid piece to somehow being just one facet of the overall design.

The layered cloth fell in sweeping cuts down to what would be his knees when it was worn. The patterned dusty-blue cloth would cover his arms as well. He wasn’t sure how useful the hood would be, considering it would limit his periphery, but it was a nice touch.

Normally, this was the point that Hal would press on into the third stage of imbuement. But since his MP was back to full - largely thanks to Besal - he turned his attention to the creation of another piece of armor.

After seeing the transformation of his breastplate by adding his [Shaper’s Coat] to it, he was far more hopeful about the prospect of making pants.

Typical bone pants wouldn’t be practical. At least not for his purposes. But after his experience altering the balance of doll and shadow essence, Hal had more confidence that he could make a pliable pair of trousers.

Not perfect, but he remained optimistic that the addition of his destroyed [Tough Lineste Leather Breeches] would make up for any deficiencies he introduced into the design.

It began to dawn on Hal as he got to work on the pants - relatively simple compared to the breastplate - that he could do great and wondrous things with Bonecrafting.

Like the various essence bones, he was just beginning to scratch the surface of what was possible. Being able to add in other elements, materials he couldn’t hope to replicate with bone, he could fundamentally change any item he created.

Adding [Empyreal Shardite] to [Emissary] had dramatically altered its blade and, subsequently, its strength. Could he infuse a bit of [Empyreal Shardite] into his clothing as well to make something more resistant to magical attacks?

The possibilities seemed endless. And while Bonecrafting alone couldn’t do everything, he could buy, trade, or commission what he couldn’t make and add it to his designs.

If only he had the time.

Shaking his thoughts away, Hal focused on the here and now. He needed armor to survive the trials that were coming. Not only those in the next days but the assault on the Settlement and the next crisis after that.

He wasn’t convinced that this would be a one-off event. The Shiverglades were inhospitable to the extreme. If it wasn’t a Guild Mission, it would be a horde of angry barbarians, if not them, then eventually Rinbast would come calling.

There was always going to be something.

It was Hal’s place to make sure his people and his home survived. And to that end, he needed to not only be stronger but well-armed.

He should have attempted to upgrade his gear weeks ago. There had been time then. But, like everybody else, he thought that once they arrived and claimed their little Settlement, there would be time.

They could focus, for once, on themselves and making something of a life.

The Shiverglades had shown him the error of that line of thinking, and now he knew better. There would never be an era of lasting peace and calm.

But he would be ready for the trials and tribulations, with allies both monstrous and humanoid, he would meet whatever threatened his family or his home.

Over the next few hours, Hal remade the other pieces of his armor. By alternating between the mana-intensive creation stage, and the lesser drain of the refinement stage, Hal was able to continually work on his armor.

As he did, his understanding of essences grew. By altering the balance, he could affect the properties that the different essences provided.

The more he leaned toward shadow in his creation of the shadow and doll essence items, the more flexible it became. But that flexibility came at a cost, its insulative properties were dramatically hindered.

On the other hand, if he aspected the mana too greatly toward doll instead of shadow, the armor would have incredible insulation, but its brittleness would render it ineffective.

There was a fine line between the two, about 10% to 15% in either direction, that gave Hal the ability to sufficiently alter the pieces without rendering them functionally useless.

He was putting the final touches on his boots, which necessitated a substantial aspect to shadow essence just to function properly. The last thing Hal wanted was to have the equivalent of wooden clogs.

Trading some insulation for springy soled boots would be worth it. While his [Leaping Boots] weren’t destroyed, their durability was in the double digits.

It was only a matter of time before they gave up the ghost.

Hal figured that he might be able to preserve the movement enchantment on them if he added them to the boots he was making. The worst-case scenario would be that it didn’t work.

Even heavily aspected to shadow essence, the bone boots were stiff and unyielding. If the addition of the [Leaping Boots] didn’t markedly change them as the [Shaper’s Coat] had to his breastplate, then he would have to hope the boots could last a couple more days.

But as Hal took each of his ruined or near-ruined items, and added them to the newly created bone variant, his confidence soared. Each time the addition of the damaged equipment dramatically changed what he had made.

The stiff, rubbery pants he made became supple and soft when he added the [Tough Lineste Leather Breeches] during the refinement stage. His attempt at making even a facsimile of leather was laughable compared to adding finely crafted leather to the item.

It served as a poignant reminder that he would be better served in making the best bone components he could and leave the other materials to their proper disciplines. He could add metal, crystal, cloth, or leather to improve or alter the shape and properties of his creation.

There was no need to try and mimic them outright. As was the case with his pants. His old breeches, while of quality make, were tighter than he would have liked.

Trying on the unfinished pants was a stark difference. The heavily shadow-aspected pants were dark enough that if he stood near the dark line of trees, his legs would practically disappear.

More than that was the ease of motion. He could move far easier in the unfinished pants than he could in the old breeches.

But there was a downside to adding equipment to the blanks.

After he finalized the refinements to the breastplate-turned-cloak, which included adding [Empyreal Shardite], he realized the problem immediately.

The third stage of Bonecrafting was imbuement. It allowed him to grant magical essence, endowments, or enchantments to the item based on the first two stages.

Using equipment that already had attributes on it, rendered the third stage completely null and void. He couldn’t add an enchantment or alter the stats.

For a blessing, they took on the same general alignment as the equipment he added, with most of them being a fair bit stronger.

In a way, it made sense. He was already adding something heavily aspected to his creations. But it still made him wonder what would happen if he added a bolt of high-quality cloth instead of a pre-made piece of equipment.

There was so much to test when he returned to the Settlement.

Beyond just the thrill of discovering new ways to use his Bonecrafting, it was clear that the attributes of each piece were improved. At the very least, he could make bone blanks and add already existing equipment to essentially provide a relatively low-cost upgrade.

It also meant that Hal didn’t need to spend as long toying with various enchantments or alterations, forcing him to entirely bypass the third stage and skip straight to the last.

The finalization stage required Hal to use his mana to impart a fragile layer of the magical essence to each piece of equipment. Based on the number of layers, he could provide various bonuses to the item.

Unfortunately, the more layers he placed on the item, the greater the chance for Mana Feedback. And while he never incurred the terrible-sounding event, the System had clearly explained that it was a potentially fatal event where the flow of his mana reversed to catastrophic effect.

The only item he had successfully completed so far was [Emissary]. It should have been obvious that armor would have an entirely different set of enhancements based on the grade, but he was still surprised when the list flooded across his vision.

123

[Finalization Stage]

Using your mana to seal your creation, you are able to impart upon it a fragment of your essence. For every layer of mana, there is a very low chance for an improvement in quality and weapon stats. Various Grades of mana impart unique benefits.

The more layers of mana placed upon an item, the more difficult it is to control the quality, resulting in Mana Feedback. A damaging and potentially fatal reversal of mana that can harm both armor and creator alike.

Grade 1 (1-10 Mana Layers): Abrasive

Mana Feedback Chance: 5%

Having so few mana layers results in an armor that is magically rough. Spells cast at an Abrasive set of armor misfire strangely as the mana making up the spell is shredded in irregular ways. Unfortunately, this dramatically reduces the durability of the armor.

Grade 2 (11-20 Mana Layers): Durable

Mana Feedback Chance: 7%

Durable armors gain a bonus to their durability and suffer less durability damage over time. Additionally, up to 10% of the armor’s durability can be restored by investing MP at a rate of 10 MP per 1 point of durability.

Grade 3 (21-30 Mana Layers): Sturdy

Mana Feedback Chance: 15%

Increasing the mana layers of the item aids in its protection by providing subtle reinforcements where the armor is weakest. Defense and Magic Defense are increased.

Grade 4 (31-40 Mana Layers): Featherlight

Mana Feedback Chance: 25%

Armor infused with many layers of mana takes on a multitude of beneficial properties. As each layer suffuses the material, the armor becomes lighter and easier to move in. When falling, there is a countervailing force that makes long drops significantly less deadly.

Grade 5 (41-50 Mana Layers): Retaliation

Mana Feedback Chance: 45%

Unlike weaponry, mana layered upon armor takes on a soul of its own. If the creator and the wearer are one and the same, this effect is greatly magnified. With so many mana layers upon an armor, the magical essence becomes capable of storing a portion of the kinetic energy thrown at it. Once this reaches a certain threshold, the wearer can wield the accumulated energy in a burst of power.

Grade 6: ???

Grade 7: ???

Grade 8: ???

Grade 9: ???

Grade 10: ???

That’s one less grade available than weaponry had, Hal thought.

Unfortunately, layering mana was a time-intensive process. And he had already spent much of the day creating and improving his new armor set.

But settling for Abrasive would be a mistake.

Judging by the drastic reduction in the number of layers per grade, it seemed likely that this was more difficult than it had been with [Emissary].

There was always the option to just finalize his work without the additional layers of mana. The armor would still be strong, but it would lack the strength imparted by the process.

With the sun still casting brilliant pools on the forest floor, Hal got to work.

Aiming for grade 2 seemed the best bet. Not only could he reinforce the durability of the item with his mana, but it would degrade slower as well.

While not as impressive as Featherlight or Retaliation, the chance for Mana Feedback was also quite low.

And that, more than anything, was something Hal wanted to avoid. Even if the damage to himself was minimal, he didn’t want to have to remake any piece of armor.

Least of all because he couldn’t. The damaged or ruined armor that he infused into their new home was gone. He couldn’t get them back if he wanted to.

Hal took out the cloak with its embedded breastplate and set it in his lap. Placing one hand at the neck and the waist of the piece, he began to channel his mana through the item from one side to the next, creating a circuit.

He was not unfamiliar with the process, but the size of the armor was significantly more than he was used to. However, it was the varying materials that posed the real problem. Cloth mixed with bone and various accouterments meant that the mana did not flow steadily as it would over a single unified piece.

Instead, the mana started and stopped, slowed, or sped up based on the material in question. And since Hal’s goal was to create an even, unblemished paper-thin layer of mana all over the armor, such variances proved to be a great difficulty to overcome.

Even with a greater pool of mana at his disposal and his increased Bonecrafting skill, it was still a struggle. Each tiny bump, every knot of mana that formed from an uneven joining of two different materials presented a problem.

The more imperfections there were, the more it would affect the next layer and the one after that. Eventually, with enough tiny imperfections, one of the layers would simply snap, causing a Mana Feedback.

Layer after layer was deposited on the cloak. Sweat beaded Hal’s forehead as he struggled with the ebb and flow of mana that never seemed the same twice. Over the bone-made breastplate, the mana sped along like frothing water. But across the fabric of the arms, or the under cloth, it slowed and seeped into the fibers.

It was a delicate dance to reel in his mana over the breastplate, only to force more mana through as he reached the cloth sections of the armor. Despite his best efforts, there were a number of almost imperceptible whorls and knots of mana on the first few layers.

Enough that, as Hal neared the 12th layer of mana, he decided to finalize the piece before it failed catastrophically.

It was enough to qualify as grade 2, though just barely.

Rather than naming the item, as he did with [Emissary], Hal set it aside and let the System come up with a name for it. He wasn’t particularly attached to the armor.

Anything he made in the future, with his greater understanding of how to infuse materials into his bone-made creations, would be drastically superior.

Hal did wonder, albeit briefly, as he took out the dark trousers if he could keep reusing armor in the way he was now.

Would it be possible to take his newly revamped gear and place them into yet another set he made once his Bonecrafting skill was even higher?

It would be an interesting method of revitalizing legendary armor or equipment that had exceedingly rare enchantments. Rather than being forced to wear something with low defense or other stats, he could “refresh” the item by giving it a new home.

But that was a thought for another day.

Endless recycling of equipment would have an interesting impact on the economy. Exactly how, he wasn’t sure, but be it for good or ill, it would be interesting.

Considering how far his Settlement was from any major Sanctums or Sanctuaries - if he could find some way to trade with them - it might not be the worst idea to be entirely self-sufficient.

The rest of his armor was much the same as the body piece. The various materials presented several problems to overcome. And since no two pieces were identical, he couldn’t easily implement the solutions he found in each previous item.

Time passed enough that by the time Hal was finished, the sun was already fast retreating to the west. Another day had passed as he crafted and worked on himself with little attention given to his friends.

He felt more than a little guilty for that.

Aside from striking out toward the east in the hopes of stumbling across them, he didn’t have much choice. They never came within range of the party communications, and Hal hadn’t seen nor heard a single keinse all day.

And in the meantime, almost all of his gear was broken. The pragmatic voice in the back of his head told him that he had done the right thing. That he would have frozen to death or been so weakened that he would have been easy prey for a wandering monster.

While death held no permanent dominion over him anymore - not that he was keen on testing it out - it would still take a long time for him to return to the land of the living.

It wasn’t conceit that made Hal believe he would be needed for the coming assault on the Settlement. He fully trusted his friends and guildmates. But there was a bone-deep worry. A fear that wouldn’t listen to reason.

And it told him that what was coming was worse than he could imagine. Bigger and nastier than anything they had seen so far.

Walls wouldn’t be enough.

Hal had no idea where that fear came from, but try as he might, he could not dislodge its nagging certainty. And so Besal’s Quest had seemed the perfect opportunity to gain the upper hand in a conflict he worried they had no hope of surviving unscathed.

He had never been in a war. History hadn’t been a particularly strong subject in school, and he wasn’t big on war movies in his other life. In truth, Hal had no point of reference to whatever was coming his way. And it scared him more than he was willing to admit.

124

Before the sun began to set and the light started to fade completely that day, Hal had utterly transformed his broken gear into something new and different.

As he donned his much improved - in both comfort and strength - equipment, Hal brushed his dark thoughts away. He had no time for them. And even if he had, it was hard to feel morose when his new armor imparted such a feeling of strength.

That they were greatly improved was readily apparent when he snuffed out the dying campfire and could hardly tell the difference.

The mixture of shadow and doll essence made something closely approximating the well-worn leather that even his previous pair of trousers failed to mimic. The frigid temperature of the Shiverglades hardly seemed to touch him in his new gear.

His face was exposed, but there was a damask blue scarf-like material that he could pull up to cover his nose and mouth. When he wasn’t using it, the material bunched up around his throat to keep it cozy and warm.

Hal took a look over his new equipment, marveling at the difference.

[Equipment]

Shadow-Tempered Circlet

[Head] (Epic)

Item Level: 45

DEF: 12

MDEF: 18

+2 INT

Insulation: 10

DUR: 450/450

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Shadow-Tempered Half Plate

[Body] (Legendary)

Item Level: 60

DEF: 35

MDEF: 35

+7 INT | +7 MND

Insulation: 25

DUR: 1,000/1,000

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Shadowblessed Spaulder

[Shoulders] (Heroic)

Item Level: 55

DEF: 15

MDEF: 15

Restores 1% Max MP per kill.

Insulation: 15

DUR: 800/800

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Shadow-Tempered Bracers

[Hands] (Epic)

Item Level: 45

DEF: 8

MDEF: 10

+5 Parry Skill

Insulation: 15

DUR: 800/800

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Stalwart Belt

[Waist] (Epic)

Item Level: 40

DEF: 10

+3 STR

Insulation: 10

DUR: 600/600

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Shadow-Tempered Trousers

[Legs] (Epic)

Item Level: 45

DEF: 22

MDEF: 24

+5 Evasion Skill

Insulation: 18

DUR: 1,000/1,000

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Voidbounders

[Feet] (Heroic)

Item Level: 50

DEF: 10

MDEF: 15

+15% Movement Speed (+30% In Shadow)

Insulation: 20

DUR: 800/800

Lv. 20 Beastborne

Bomb Ring

[Ring] (Heroic)

Item Level: 45

+75 HP

DUR: 210/300

Lv. 30 All Classes

Lunette Ring

[Ring] (Heroic)

Item Level: 45

+75 MP

DUR: 200/300

Lv. 28 All Classes

With roughly a day’s worth of work, Hal doubled his DEF, MDEF, and more than tripled his Insulation. As the sun began to slant sharply to the west on his left, golden bars of light slipping through the canopy above, Hal could barely tell it was any colder out.

The only exceptions to his new gear were his rings. Their gemstones were magical and he didn’t have a good enough handle on Bonecrafting to try and make anything remotely as ornate.

Rather than spending more time and MP figuring it out, he gave up for the time being. As rings, they didn’t seem to degrade at the same rate as the rest of his armor.

Hal moved about in place, stretching and seeing if the armor inhibited his movements at all. He had to admit, he liked the way it looked. And with the light fast retreating from the Shiverglades, it would help him to blend into the darkness.

His Bonecrafting had gone up another 2 Levels from the finalization process, up to Level 22 and he still had a perk to pick.

Better get that out of the way before I forget.

Your Bonecrafting has risen to Level 22.

+1.1% Crafting speed (+24.2%).

+1.2% MP efficiency (+26.4%).

You have 1 Bonecrafting Perk point awaiting assignment.

Bone Purification 0/1

Purge impurities from bone, increasing the likelihood of achieving a higher quality and reducing the amount of CP needed to craft material made from purified bone. Purified bones are required for Bone Ensorcellment.

+10% High-Quality rate.

-10% CP cost.

Essence Imbuement 1/1

While others must slay or find their raw materials, you are capable of creating it. This comes with a number of additional features - and drawbacks - with Essence Imbuement. You can specifically aim to create bones of monsters with whom you have at least 100% Monster Affinity.

Bone Ensorcellment 0/1

Prerequisites: Essence Imbuement & Bone Purification.

Transcend typical spellwork by imbuing specially purified bones with a wide variety of magical essence, from simple commands to complex spells, and everything in between. Bone Ensorcellment forms the backbone for the most powerful wands and magical items in existence.

Ossification Mastery 0/1

Master the art of working with bone, honoring the creatures the material came from and utilizing it in the most efficient manner possible. In doing so, you not only can work with more materials but can work with all materials faster.

Unlocks: Draconic Bone.

+5% High-Quality rate.

+5% CP.

Originally, Hal had thought to pick Ossification Mastery. A greater high-quality rate, and a further increase to his CP generation seemed an obvious choice. He wasn’t sure what Draconic Bone being unlocked meant.

With his command of Bonecrafting, he could create any bone of any creature, provided he had enough affinity with the monster. And as he didn’t have any affinity with dragons - yet - he wasn’t sure how the perk would unlock that for him.

More than likely, it meant he could work with Draconic Bone. And that made him wonder if there was some essence bone that he couldn’t work with.

His choice, however, was made for him when he saw Bone Ensorcellment. He had never seen a wand yet, but he could guess well enough what possibilities would open up to him, given the perk’s description.

Storing spells in armor, or a weapon, only to have it unleashed with a command word or at a set moment was the stuff of legend. Naturally, Hal would want in on that.

Having a body piece that automatically cast a healing spell on him if his HP dropped below a certain percent seemed fantastic. Or a pair of boots that could be triggered to cast a propulsion spell that would allow him to leap great heights.

The possibilities were endless. And all it would take was finding the right combination of materials and spells.

With the time he now had, with a future unfolding into a vast expanse of long years ahead, he would have the time to dedicate to finding just those combinations.

If each of his friends had armor that would teleport them to a pre-set binding point upon being knocked out or at critical HP, he need never worry about their death. With healers on standby, the injured party member would be whisked away directly where they would have the best chances of survival.

Unfortunately, Hal couldn’t get Bone Ensorcellment just yet.

Instead, he picked up Bone Purification to satisfy the last prerequisite for the perk. Once he reached Bonecrafting Level 30 - which didn’t seem quite so far away - he would grab Bone Ensorcellment.

Until then, he would be satisfied with the creations he made. Running his bare fingers over the layered silken cloak, Hal marveled at his new armor. The [Empyreal Shardite] made the faint patterns in the fabric shimmer when the light hit them just right.

Hal discovered that, with a thought, the shimmer turned to a faint darkening, making it easier to blend into the deepening gloom all around him.

They fit in a way that went beyond the magic of Aldim. They felt purpose-made for him. Which, he guessed they were.

Using his essence had tied them to him in some intrinsic way that he didn’t quite grasp. Considering they were restricted to the Beastborne Fabled Class, he couldn’t even make the garments for anybody else.

Or so he thought.

“I wouldn’t say no to a set of that armor,” Besal said.

Hal started and turned toward Besal. “What do you mean?”

Besal motioned to himself. Hal didn’t miss that Besal seemed much more substantial than before. Though he was still made of shadow and starlight. Tiny motes of light twinkled within his semi-gaseous form.

“You’re naked?”

“Not in the same way you would be,” Besal said, then shrugged his shoulders. “But, yes. In a manner of speaking. As I am part of you, I should not be restricted from wearing Beastborne-specific equipment.”

“Do you need a weapon?” he asked, thoroughly surprised at the request.

“I would hardly turn it down.”

He could make a sword fairly easy, he had made the [Bone Falchion] and already knew the recipe for it.

Before he could begin, Besal spoke, “I’d prefer a straight sword, if you don’t mind.”

Hal shot him a curious look.

Besal rolled his shoulders in a shrug. “What can I say? I have a preference. Two swords would be better than one, but I would prefer to stab, not slice.”

“Are you planning on joining me?” Hal asked, curious, and a little wary.

“If you would prefer to venture alone, I can certainly facilitate that. But I figured you would prefer my aid.”

While he wasn’t looking forward to venturing out alone, he never thought that Besal would actually help him in the flesh. The last time he was given control over Hal’s body, it seemed to tax Besal greatly.

He should have realized it sooner. “The Communion?” Hal asked. Besal already knew his thoughts, so he understood where the question was coming from.

“As our Synchronization rises, I’m able to give myself physical form and reside outside of you, for a time. In a way, we’re separate but it is hardly permanent. We are intrinsically tied together in a way that I doubt either of us could sever without destroying a part of ourselves.”

Hal could feel the truth in his words.

If Hal focused, he could feel Besal’s mind. He could sense the connection between them. It was more substantial than before. And that strength clearly allowed Besal to aid Hal in ways he couldn’t before, in ways that Hal never would have imagined possible.

“It’s not going to be very strong or pretty,” Hal warned. “But, if that’s okay with you, I can whip up a sword pretty quickly.”

“Thank you,” Besal said, touching his hand to his heart.

125

The method of making his [Bone Falchion] was well known to Hal by that point. He could have used Blades of Bone to make a very simplistic weapon, but he wanted Besal to have at least a half-decent method of contribution.

And so Hal spent the last bits of daylight creating a [Bone Longsword]. It wasn’t pretty - as Hal warned - but it was effective. It was comparable to anything the Settlement could have outfitted Besal with.

Besal took it, studying it for a moment. The gleam of white bone caught the faint light from the cooling embers of the campfire. “Thank you, Hal.”

Hal studied him for a moment. “Where….”

Besal raised his shadowy hand to stop him. “It’ll go with me as part of what I am. Since it has your essence - which, in a way, is my essence too - it will allow me to place it within my own inventory of sorts. You needn’t worry about having a sword suddenly poking out from your organs.”

“That’s all I ask,” Hal said.

Up until that point, Besal had no items of his own. And it was a little curious how he could actually own items. Hal didn’t really want to understand the particulars.

So long as Besal’s items did not harm him or interfere with his inventory, he was more than happy to have a properly equipped ally instead of one that needed to use its teeth and claws.

Even the fact that Besal had asked for a weapon was a marked shift.

Their Dark Communion was continuing apace, and now that night was beginning to settle over the Shiverglades, Hal was ready to strike out again for their next Communion.

It only made sense that, as they became more connected, Besal would become more than a voice in the back of Hal’s mind.

Feeling the solid strength of his new breastplate, Hal couldn’t help but grin a little. He was finally feeling more like a fighter with armor to match.

For a long time, he avoided anything resembling plate armor, mostly out of necessity. Metal plate mail was extremely heavy, and without Convergence, his STR wasn’t high enough to move as fluidly as he would like.

Despite being roughly twice as strong as a fit human, wearing such heavy armor naturally slowed him down. More importantly, it made spellcasting difficult.

There was a reason that most mages didn’t wear heavy armor into battle.

By using bone and his own essence suffused into the ruined [Shaper’s Coat], he was able to transform it into something far more defensive. Evidenced by the fact that the newly created [Shadow-Tempered Half Plate] had nearly a third of his total DEF and MDEF.

“Do you have any idea where we’re going?” Hal asked Besal.

Besal stood and looked around the darkening clearing. “There.” His arm lifted. It swayed until it pointed toward the west, almost as if his finger was drawn to the direction.

Of course it’d be farther away from the Settlement, Hal thought.

Splicing shadow, eldritch, and insect, Hal set out into the dark forest of the Shiverglades. His senses came alive with faint movement from the creatures all around.

The forest was thick with life. Nocturnal beasts were just waking up, while others were returning to their hollows and warrens to sleep in relative safety.

It wasn’t often that Hal spliced terrestrial essence, and only now did he truly understand the depth of Besal’s connection to the world around him. How the man - if he was a man - could seem so in tune and aware.

There wasn’t some secret training technique, nor a racial difference, he was Splicing. And that brought worrying connotations to Hal. He had always known, on some level, that Besal was also a Beastborne.

But that was only because Besal was Hal, and Hal was Besal. They were two sides belonging to the same coin. With Besal being able to bodily step out on his own… was that still true?

Was he creating another Beastborne?

It sounded ridiculous, but did Besal have a Beast of his own to contend with? Rather than dwell on them unnecessarily, he directed those questions toward Besal.

With so many beasts about, the last thing he needed to do was start talking like he was having a midday stroll. He was loud enough moving through the frigid, often mushy, forest.

Hearing the words across their mental link, Besal glanced toward Hal as they stalked through the thick underbrush. “We all contend with the darkness inside,” he replied to Hal’s mind. “But no, I only have access to Beastborne as it is part of who I am. And who I am is part of who you are. Perhaps once you might have called me your darkness. Your Mister Hyde, I suppose. We have moved beyond such petty things, don’t you agree?”

Besal was right. Whatever the reason, or the impetus of it, Besal had grown into something more than just Hal’s inner darkness. He wasn’t a two-dimensional thing to be combated anymore.

He also wasn’t, at least not wholly, apart from Hal either. They were linked in ways that Hal doubted even Besal fully understood. And as he continued down the path of Beastborne, it became increasingly obvious that the Fabled Class held far more in store for him if he walked this road.

This Dark Communion was just the first of many such tests that he would need to overcome. Of that, Hal was absolutely certain.

They walked for a while in silence, Hal’s new armor did more to keep him hidden and quiet than his own skill. He suspected that his presence was quite well known from the lack of skill-ups.

Naturally, he would have expected Stealth to Level Up some, but the lack of anything for the next hour as the night deepened only confirmed his suspicions.

Perhaps it was his noisy, ungainly steps through the dark, that drew the series of high-pitched squeaking. Squeaking that should have been out of Hal’s human range of hearing, but wasn’t.

The keinse!

Hal looked up, Shadesight picked out a darker bat-shaped form flitting about in the upper canopy of dark blue.

“It’s Hal! I found the Hal!” cried a keinse, whose name Hal didn’t know.

“Hal? It is the Hal! Good, now Shimmerscales won’t be mad we lost his new friend!” Steve said, diving down through the canopy. As the leaves broke away, Hal could see the brilliant stardusted sky through that tiny gap.

Steve the keinse flitted down to a low-hanging branch and perched on it upside down. He regarded Hal with curious dark eyes. “Looking for you we have! Lots of flying. Your friends worry so much. That one that speaks to us like you do, worries most of all! You returning with us, yah? We want to get back to our cave. Lots of flying lately! Too few bugs this time of year.”

“Dank and humid cave,” chorused one of the keinse somewhere overhead.

Hal stepped up to the keinse and looked up at him. “Are they okay?” he said, voice pitched low.

“Oh yeah, friends fine. We make keinse chain, let you talk?”

“I would appreciate that,” Hal said with a nod.

The keinse squeaked to each other for a few moments, and Hal let his senses expand to the animals in the region. Most of them were keeping their distance.

What predators there were, had little interest in Hal or Besal. More than anything, it was the various nocturnal prey that Hal’s stomping through the forest had scared away that kept the predators away.

With their usual prey in a blind panic from the strange interloper, Hal sensed that the predators were forced to adapt to the change or go hungry for the night.

“All done, deadly one wants to know if you are malnourished or injusted,” Steve said.

Hal furrowed his brow. “Injusted?”

“Oh. Sorry. So sorry. Injured. She says injured. Many keinse sometime get words wrong. Deadly one says many words, all mean the same thing. People are weird.”

“Tell Noth that I want her to take over the party and if they aren’t already, to head back to the Settlement. One night out in the Shiverglades is enough,” Hal said.

There was a long pause as Steve squeaked out the message to the next keinse up, and that was repeated over however long the distance was between them. It was like the strangest game of telephone he had ever been part of.

Finally, Steve spoke up, “Deadly one says, not leaving without you. Where is you? She is very insistent. Her command of our language is not like yours. We not tell where you are, but we tell you where they are if you wish.”

Hal nodded. “Tell me where they’re at, and I want you to relay something to Noth. I need you to repeat these exact words. Do you understand Steve?”

“Yeah-yeah, I understand. Repeat words. No make better, smoother, faster. Long, slow, people words.”

126

Using the keinse as their go-between, Hal and Noth discussed what they were to do next. While Noth didn’t plead with Hal to return, she did argue with him about his choice long enough for Hal to understand the source of her frustration.

She could not help him.

This was not something that she could be part of, and Hal understood that didn’t sit well with her. He regretted it, and told her as much, but whether it soothed Noth’s hurt or not, Hal could not tell.

The keinse were not terribly good at relaying emotion.

They had a hard enough time just making sure they repeated the words correctly along their network of flying bats.

Steve had informed Hal where they were. Thinking that Hal would have made the smart decision and begin heading back toward the Settlement, they were nearly at the gap.

Which meant that they were farther away than ever. And, had Hal been more interested in returning home than his immediate survival or the Dark Communion Quest, he might have crossed paths with them.

To hedge their bets, Noth - who had taken command of the party by then - had Angram ranging as far as he dared, looking for any sign of Hal. The keinse, on the other hand, spread out in search of Hal.

As it turned out, the explosive exit of the Thesp Leader had left everybody a little rattled. Not even the keinse had been aware of which direction Hal had gone, or where he might have landed.

Considering how massive the Shiverglades were, Hal was hardly surprised it took them so long to find him. Despite their tether making it easier to find one another, there was something about the Shiverglades that severely blunted its effect the farther away they were. Even that seemed a stroke of luck, as Noth confessed she would have immediately set out again with as many as she could take to search for him.

It only occurred to Hal then that she would have had no idea if he was dead or alive. For all they knew, he was badly wounded and in need of their help.

He felt a little guilty for spending most of the day crafting and readying himself for a Quest he knew they could never be a part of.

Naturally, Hal didn’t fully regale her with everything he did. Not only because it would have taxed the poor keinse, but because it wasn’t necessary. He had explained to Noth that he was wounded and took time to heal back to full, that he was fine, and had a Beastborne Quest to undertake.

Even though the keinse were horrible at relaying much more than the words they used, he could imagine the soft look Noth’s golden eyes would give him as she told him to be careful and return to her.

He promised he would, and left her with instructions on how to best prepare the Settlement. What priorities should be focused on, and where to place traps along the gap.

While he doubted any of those traps would benefit from his Tactician skill, given that the orders to do so were second-hand in nature, it was still good to have plenty of traps laid out for the coming attack.

Noth assured him that his wishes would be carried out, and with a threat that she would personally come out to drag him back to the Settlement, they said their goodbyes.

“Some good bugs in the night,” Steve said. “Tasty bugs. Crunchy. Juicy! Hal want us to stay around? Grab a little snacko?”

That was a good idea. And something Hal was going to ask of them anyway. “Since the others aren’t going to need you, do you think the rest of your brothers and sisters could keep a watch overhead? And if necessary, relay any messages I might have back to Noth at the Settlement?”

Steve looked at Hal for a moment, and took the clawed tip of his batwing to scratch at his furry fox-like muzzle. “Shimmerscales said help Hal. We help Hal. What you look for boss man? Want good snackos?”

Hal shook his head, opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it with a click. He looked questioningly at Besal.

Besal looked over at the keinse, who seemed to notice him for the first time and fluttered his wings in surprise. “We’re looking for somewhere that other monsters would fear,” Besal said. “Dark places full of ancient animosity. The darker and more brutal, the better.”

Shifting his gaze from Hal to Besal, Steve shrugged and said,“Saw spooky place across water to west and south.”

“Looks like we have our heading,” Besal said. He set off immediately, going southward more than west.

“Keep us on track,” Hal said to Steve.

The keinse let go of the branch, spread its black wings wide, and flapped madly to catch the air before ascending into the canopy and disappearing somewhere above the tangle.

Hal did his best to keep up with Besal, but the man seemed driven now that they had a potential course. If Hal had been a normal human, he would have been exhausted by then. Not the debuff Exhausted, just the simple physical strain version.

After all, it was getting late. Shifting dappled shadows spread out before them, illuminated by the silvery glow of the bandlight high above.

The Shiverglades had come fully alive by that point, and any creatures that weren’t too busy chasing their fleeing prey had set their sights on the unlikely pair traipsing through the dark woods.

As they progressed, the roots grew thicker. The soft loamy earth interspersed the hard gnarled roots that wove through the land. Underbrush became less of an issue as the roots took hold.

Hal found himself stepping on solid root more often than the dark, soggy earth. Ahead, pits of black tarry substance glistened in what little bandlight and moonlight broke through the canopy above.

Long snaking tendrils - easily mistaken for roots without Shadesight - stretched out of those pools, questing for prey. More often than not, they found some oversized scurrying insect and with surprising alacrity wrapped about the bug, dragging it down into the tarry pit.

“Stay close,” Hal whispered to the Rhino Beetle that scuttled quietly behind Hal.

They gave the pools a wide berth, that is until the wind shifted and blew their fetid stench over the trio.

“Do you smell that?” Hal asked Besal.

Besal shrugged, not quite grasping his meaning.

An evil grin slowly spread its way across Hal’s features. Aside from the rotten stench, there was a strong and familiar chemical smell beneath it. Kerosene, Hal guessed, or something very close to it.

It would take them quite a while to circumnavigate the pools. But if they could walk straight through, it would save a significant amount of time. Not to mention, Hal didn’t quite like those black oily tentacles that snaked over the root-strewn area.

Picking his way carefully, Hal climbed up a large root that arced into the air nearly twenty feet. Besal and the beetle followed him without issue. Once Hal found a perfect spot, he motioned for the others to get up higher on the root.

Deciding that this would be the perfect time to test the effects of Splicing the same essence as a spell he was going to cast, Hal swapped insect for goblin essence.

The beetle, by now used to Hal constantly swapping essences, hardly seemed fazed by the shift. Instead, it began to idly chew on a small green shoot coming off the root.

Hal had a rough idea of how much his Bomb Toss could do. Provided the creatures below weren’t weak to goblin, which he doubted since beastmen didn’t seem to have a predator or prey relationship.

“Technically, that’s not true,” Besal added, hearing Hal’s thoughts clearly. “Beastmen are in opposition to humanoids, people such as yourself. Like the other oppositions, people and beastmen are weak to one another’s magic. Too bad humans don’t tend to have innate magical powers.”

Hal filed that tidbit away for later. If Rinbast persisted in his desire to fight Hal, he would do well to have a stockpile of beastmen spells to deal with the approaching army.

Easier said than done, but that was a problem for future Hal.

Right now, he focused on conjuring a sizzling goblin bomb. All patchworked metal plates haphazardly bolted and curved into the shape of a rough sphere and topped with a burning wick.

It was all for show, the bomb wasn’t going to explode if Hal didn’t will it to. He could hold it in his hand and let the wick continue to burn down if he pleased with no harm done.

He had never Spliced goblin essence before. And the first thing he noticed was how much larger the bomb was in his hand. He could feel a deeper connection to it. As if it was a part of him instead of a simple spell.

Feeling the power behind that spell, Hal grinned and let it fly through the air. It sailed end over end, straight for the central pool of oily substance.

127

As soon as his Bomb Toss hit the oily mass, Hal detonated the spell.

Nothing he could have expected would have prepared him for the fiery conflagration that followed.

The Shiverglades lit up as if it were bright day. A wave of explosive, superheated air rushed over the trio and knocked each of them from the root.

Hal tumbled to the ground, slamming his back painfully against an upraised iron-hard root. Bursts of white light flashed at the sharp jolts of agony.

To his side, Besal groaned, having found the discomfort of landing on the same root Hal had. Farther still, the beetle kicked and flailed as it fell on its back, largely unscathed.

Waves of heat still assaulted him, and it took Hal a moment to reorient himself. There was bright light everywhere. Blooms of crimson and orange surrounded him.

Getting to his feet quickly, Hal pulled free [Emissary], ready to face whatever was coming out at him in full force. Likewise, Besal got up and held out his [Bone Longsword].

Nothing came at them.

Cautiously, Hal inched around the large root they had fallen from. It had subsequently blocked their view of the pits. And as Hal squinted against the brightness of the scene before him, he understood that there would be no enemy coming against him.

Black oily smoke lifted toward the sky in great noisome clouds.

Flaming tendrils flailed and writhed through the air, flinging gobs of burning goo all over the area. Trees splattered with the stuff began to burn and catch fire.

Hal’s eyes widened at the sudden change. It was as if the immediate area had been plunged into a fiery pit.

Besal chuckled once he caught sight of the area. “It’s like one of the planes of fire.”

One by one, the creatures within the burning oil pits perished. As it turned out, a lot of things in the Shiverglades were incredibly flammable. Several coiling tendrils of purple-black smoke threaded through the ground and absorbed into Hal.

He was inundated with a deluge of notifications.

Your Bomb Toss II hits the [Pit Slug | Lv. 41] for 772 points of fire damage.

Your Bomb Toss II hits the [Pit Slug | Lv. 40] for 796 points of fire damage.

Your Bomb Toss II hits the [Pit Slug | Lv. 44] for 688 points of fire damage.

…

The [Pit Slug | Lv.41] suffers 189 points of fire damage.

The [Pit Slug | Lv.40] suffers 212 points of fire damage.

The [Pit Slug | Lv.44] suffers 189 points of fire damage.

…

You gain 8,780 Experience Points.

You earn 878 Sparks.

You absorb 78 points of Slug Essence.

You obtain:

- 12 [Slug Oil Vials]

- 7 [Slug Eye Stalks]

The fire was out of control.

Everything the flaming goo touched, burned.

Smoke began to fill the area, and despite his earlier intentions, Hal fled the area and gave it an even wider berth. His attempt to make their crossing easier and faster only ended up adding more time to their travel.

By the time they were far enough that the roaring crackle of flame was a distant memory, they could still see the faint glow of brilliant light. Hal had no idea how long it would burn for.

Though he was glad to be rid of whatever horrendous creature a Pit Slug was, he didn’t exactly want to burn down the whole Shiverglades to do it.

Whether it was because Hal’s clothes were saturated with the reek of oily fumes, or it was the blazing forest fire that would have made Smokey the Bear weep, no beasts rose up to greet them.

In fact, as Hal switched from goblin essence back to insect essence, he noted the scattering creatures in the distance.

“That is one way to clear the way forward,” Besal said. “The Shiverglades has a strange affinity toward fire, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Definitely, but it is odd, isn’t it? The Shiverglades is cold, but green. It’s lush, but succumbs to fire easily as any dried and seasoned wood. Twice now, I’ve met two different types of monsters, both went up in flames as if doused in gasoline.”

“True,” Besal agreed. “However, the Morbolgers seem largely resistant to fire. While those Pit Slugs were, obviously, very weak to it. Not that I imagine any creature would last long being boiled alive in burning oil.”

“They were Amorphous, does that mean the oil was their body?”

“Could be,” Besal hedged. “But I doubt it. In the instant of the explosion, I bore witness to an amazing spectacle. The many tentacles that lined the forest floor like a network of roots shriveled and turned to ash. That one Bomb Toss lit many of the pools of oil on fire.

“And those nearby soon succumbed to the flailing and thrashing as whatever was within the pool tried to escape and failed. All the creatures managed to do was splash its fellows with burning oil.”

Hal hadn’t seen any such thing. He was so alarmed and taken by surprise that he barely had time to throw up his arms in defense as the wave of heat and force threw him from the root.

They walked in silence for a time. Despite the detour, their path was relatively easy. There were no more pools of oil, and even if they had run into them again, Hal would have elected to avoid them.

Not that he didn’t want the EXP, but the harm to the Shiverglades seemed catastrophic. Even though they had been walking for an hour, Hal could still smell the scent of smoke on the wind as it filtered through the trees.

The fire was no longer visible, but Hal heard several reports from the keinse above that it was still spreading. They kept clear of the pillars of smoke. Hal couldn’t help but wonder if it would still be burning as they made their way back.

His thoughts turned away from the flames and what changes they might bring to the Shiverglades as they pressed on southward. The land rose and fell in great rolling hills of soft earth and towering trees festooned with curtains of black moss.

Reaching his hand forward, Hal parted the moss and immediately snapped his hands back with a hiss of pain. All along the backs of his hand were tiny angry red welts.

Unsheathing [Emissary], Hal cut through the curtain instead. The lumps of moss that fell to the ground shriveled into tiny little tumbleweeds.

The welts on the back of his hand pulsed painfully, despite the fact that it had only taken a couple points of HP away.

The [Razormoss | Lv.12] hits you for 2 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Poison.

Stalwart Soul Activation.

You resist the effect of Poison.

It reminded him vaguely of a jellyfish sting. He could see no spines on the moss, but he wasn’t about to get his face close enough to be absolutely sure. Any further curtains of the black stuff were sliced down with care.

The last thing he needed was to get poisoned.

Your Survival has risen to Level 6.

+5% Camping regeneration (230%).

+5% Flora & Fauna identification. (+30%).

+1% Well Rested bonus (+6%).

At times, the bandlight was so strong and the canopy above so thin, that Hal could have easily seen without the aid of Shadesight.

The forest began to thin, the trees growing sparser and farther apart, blessedly barren of Razormoss. The ground grew marshy and soft in places with thin icy patches that gleamed in the bandlight.

Besal threw out an arm to stop Hal as they exited the forest and came into the marshland proper. To the south was a large expanse of half-frozen brackish water.

“Our path lies ahead,” Besal said, looking to the distant shore.

Hal looked out over the bandlit water as icy patches caught the silvery light like fragments of a broken mirror strewn atop a black velvet cloth. He could just barely make out tall trees in the distance.

In the dark, distance was easily distorted. It could have been a few hundred feet away or a mile as far as Hal knew. He said as much to Besal.

Red fuming eyes turned back to him. “And it would take many hours trekking through wild terrain to curve around to the west, then south, then back east toward our destination,” he pointed out. “The keinse say our path is south. We go south.”

“Unlike you,” Hal subvocalized. “I am still made of flesh and bone. Those waters will freeze me to the bone, if I can even swim in them. And, unless you know how, I cannot fly over the water. That doesn’t leave many options.”

Besal seemed taken aback by the rather obvious logic. Did he really think that Hal would be able to wade into freezing cold water and swim hundreds of feet, perhaps a mile without any issue?

“I can help with that,” Besal said after a long pause. “But you will need to trust in me.”

Hal looked out over the dark waters, then back at Besal. With a grin, he said, “What choice do I have?”

128

“I would just like to say that this is a terrible idea, and I hate it,” Hal said.

“Do you have another way across?” Besal asked. “Perhaps you would like to spend another half-day constructing a bone canoe?”

“I get it,” Hal said, putting up his hands in surrender. “But I don’t have to like it.”

As Besal came up behind Hal, he said, “So long as you accept it.”

Hal nodded, and Besal stepped into Hal’s back. It was a surreal and deeply discomfiting sensation the likes of which Hal had no words for.

Besal was somewhere in between joining Hal and being separate. His large shadow and stardusted wings spread from Hal’s back and arced wide overhead.

“Do you want to come or stay here?” Hal asked the Rhino Beetle.

It clicked its mandibles and scurried in front of Hal. It was roughly equivalent to a decent-sized golden retriever in terms of height. Though it was many times wider.

“Are you seriously going to take the beetle?” Besal asked.

“He wants to come along.”

“Humans.”

Hal bent over and picked up the beetle, careful to keep its relatively smooth back to his chest. Being twice the strength of a normal human made it surprisingly easy to lift and carry the creature.

It helped that, unlike a dog, the Rhino Beetle wasn’t scrambling about. In fact, it went preternaturally still, trusting in Hal.

As Hal trusted in Besal.

Aided by a Convergence jump, Besal’s great shadowy wings lifted and flapped once, twice, three times, and they were airborne.

The sensation left Hal feeling like his stomach was somewhere on the marshy shoreline behind. And it wasn’t real flight. There was no way Besal could keep Hal aloft, especially not with the Rhino Beetle as cargo.

But with Besal’s wings gifted to Hal, they could control their descent. And so the pair picked out the shiny fragments of ice along the dark water, leaping and flapping to slow their descent as they went.

For all of Hal’s experience with essence limbs, he never managed to make functional wings. He still wasn’t sure how Besal did it. The closest he ever came was that disgusting parachute he made.

They were roughly halfway across, where either shore seemed a distant, indistinct smudge ahead and behind, when Hal landed harder than he would have liked on the floe.

He went down on one knee, the ice cracked as a jolt of pain lanced its way up his thigh. The Rhino Beetle went skittering from Hal’s grip and slid in a lazy circle with all four of its legs akimbo.

“Easy with the landing,” Hal complained.

“It is a good thing you improved your armor,” Besal replied.

Hal was about to grumble some retort when the ice floe he was on shifted suddenly to the side. Dark brackish water lapped over the sides as it dunked into the water and then leveled out.

Something green and scaley broke the surface of the water to Hal’s left. The sheet of ice they were atop was roughly twenty feet across, but Hal didn’t like his options if he had to fight atop the floating platform.

Not only was it slippery, even more so now that some of the water lapped over its slick surface. But it was far away from any land, and any damage to the ice meant Hal was one step closer to swimming in the freezing black water.

Where that creature - and whatever else lived in the water - lurked.

Summoning spiked essence limbs, Hal drove the sharp tips into the ice to give himself a foothold. Driving himself to his feet, he hurried forward with the aid of his essence limbs.

He scooped up the beetle just as the ice listed sharply to the side. If not for his essence limbs jabbed into the ice, he would have spilled down into the dark waters.

When it became clear that its prey didn’t behave the way the creature wanted, it emerged from the dark depths and crawled atop the slanted ice. Its bulk easily tilted the sheet of ice further toward it.

Hal wished the bandlight didn’t make it so easy to see the monstrosity before him.

It looked like a crocodile if crocodiles had insectile legs, two spine-filled tails, and a pock-marked scaley green hide with angry red pustules.

With the same ease as Hal had dug the spiny tips of his essence limbs into the ice, the creature clambered out of the water and made its steady way toward him.

“Flork that,” Hal grumbled.

Summoning the power of Convergence to his legs, he released his essence limbs at the same time as he pushed off. Securing his hold on the Rhino Beetle, Hal leaped at a sharp angle over the head of the croc.

Besal’s shadowy wings beat at the air, buying him precious extra seconds aloft.

Hal’s skin crawled as he saw what was inside those blood-red pustules. As soon as Hal soared over the creature’s head, it twisted and snapped its jaws at the air. A pustule on its back broke open to the droning whine of dozens of wings beating the air.

Your Evasion Skill has risen to Level 17 (22).

+1% Evasion speed (+22%).

-1% Stamina cost (-22%).

Mosquito-like insects the size of Hal’s fist broke free from their prison on the creature’s back and followed Hal.

They weren’t particularly fast, but as Hal landed on the next ice floe, he realized they didn’t have to be.

Unlike him, the pests could stay in the air indefinitely. Even the icy wind of the Shiverglades didn’t bother them. They were too large to be knocked off course.

Making good use of his essence limbs, Hal leaped from one ice floe to the next. And while he didn’t slide off them, even when he hit them off-center, causing the ice to tilt precariously into the water, he wasn’t putting any space between himself and that buzzing whine.

The mosquitos were gaining.

By the time they made it to the other shore, the buzzing whine of a dozen mosquito wings filled the air.

Hal released the Rhino Beetle and turned, drawing out [Emissary].

Besal stepped out of Hal’s body, drawing his own [Bone Longsword] as Hal cast Bomb Toss and lobbed the fiery payload at the gaining swarm.

Half-expecting the cloud of mosquitos to now be a flaming cloud, Hal readied himself. But to his surprise, when the flash of fire vanished, so too had the mosquitos.

Their whining buzz was blessedly silenced, but strangely, Hal had received no notifications. There was no essence, no EXP, nothing.

Hal shut his eyes, trying to focus on the predators around them. But they were amid a sea of creatures. There were too many to differentiate between the one that had just attacked them and the rest.

A few tense moments passed as both Besal and Hal waited for the crocodile creature to show itself. But it never did. Black water sloshed over the marshy soil, but no more threats showed themselves.

Hal looked at Besal, “Maybe we should have gone around.”

Besal nodded, and together they turned to forge deeper into the Shiverglades.

The farther they traveled, the warmer it became. The trees grew tall and wild, even larger than they had seen so far. Their size dwarfed buildings.

Moving around them took time. The pair plotted their course as much by the keinse overhead who squeaked down instructions, as by the avenues that opened up between the gargantuan trees.

For most of the trip, Hal expected that creature to show up and ambush them. And while they were definitely followed by something, it never made itself known.

They came to a wild cluster of smaller trees, which meant they were the size of a small shack instead of an apartment building. The bark glinted strangely in the night, until Hal took a closer look and realized it wasn’t bark at all.

Polished metal rings decorated the trees. They were as wide around as many of the trunks, and in some cases, even wider. A few rings littered the ground like gigantic hula hoops.

Branches held most of them aloft, others were partially grown over by the steady growth of the trees.

Curious, Hal walked up to one at shoulder height and inspected it further. The surface was mirror-smooth without the faintest hint of blemish or age.

There were no sigils, no markings that he could see. It was odd, like nothing he had ever seen before. He could see himself clearly reflected in the bright polished metal.

But there was something off about the reflection. It had a watery quality to it that didn’t seem right. As if Hal wasn’t entirely there.

When he reached out a hand to touch the metal, he expected a violent reaction.

What he didn’t expect was the way the mark on his left forearm lit up. It hadn’t glowed that fiercely since he had gone into the depths beneath Murkmire.

In turn, each of the metal rings rippled as if they were made out of water. One by one, they revealed similar geometric designs to Hal’s mark. Not the same, but clearly of the same origin.

And that, more than anything, did not sit well with Hal.

129

“Must you touch everything?” Besal asked.

Hal shrugged. “Human impulse.”

The forest lit up in hues of gold markings and silver bandlight. Even with normal human vision, it would have been easy to pick a path ahead.

Hal studied the markings a little more, trying to find some connection or reason for them. Placing his hand on the metal again did nothing, but he did note that it wasn’t solid as it seemed.

There was a subtle give, like he was handling stiff foam.

As he turned away, a sound began to fill the forest around them - creaking, groaning sounds like that of a ship in the dead of night.

Before Hal’s very eyes, the tree directly in front of him began to grow. Bark slowly expanded layer by layer, visible to the naked eye, until it partially enveloped the metal ring.

As the bark rolled over the metal, it slowed considerably until the last half inch was barely visible. It was just a gleam of metal within the bark, but the explosive growth seemed to stop.

Hal searched the ground for one of the rings left abandoned on the grass. He bent down to touch the golden-marked surface. It was much too large to fit into his inventory but it was feather-light.

Despite the hoop’s lightness and the subtle give when Hal squeezed the metal, he could not bend or twist it into any smaller shape. With a shrug, he dropped it back to the ground.

I’ll have to come back for it some other time, he thought. With a whistle, one of the keinse came down, and Hal asked her to mark the area for him so he can find his way back to this spot.

His map, it seemed, had stopped updating at all. It had filled in most of the Shiverglades, and as he continued to explore, he received small quantities of EXP here and there but nothing more.

No new areas revealed themselves to him.

He was obviously discovering new locations, or else he wouldn’t be getting EXP from his Explorer perk. But he couldn’t figure out why they didn’t have names or at least let him give them one.

The keinse flew back up into the air with Hal’s instruction. Hal, Besal, and the Rhino Beetle soon left the strange area behind, only to stumble upon an even greater mystery an hour later.

Throughout it all, the trees with silver hoops never ceased. All were lit up with golden marks, but none of the trees were growing as the first ones had.

Many of the golden marks were weaker here, and the farther they traveled, the less powerful their glow became until they were barely visible anymore.

Hal’s mark had similarily dimmed until it was no longer showing through his bracer. Not that he minded it all the way out in the Shiverglades.

If somebody was out there looking for him, they probably didn’t need a glowing mark to identify him.

The forest broke unexpectedly, and Hal’s next footfalls fell atop aged stone blocks. He soon discerned it was an ancient roadway of some sort. It followed the natural curves of the land, rising higher and twisting off to the left.

Following it, they came across ancient crumbled stones and moss-covered obelisks.

As they crested the rise, a wondrous sight greeted them.

Ruins of Cirta

You gain 1,500 Experience Points.

In the area below were towering, monolithic structures with moldering tapestries draped over them. Faded paint decorated the larger structures. Smaller homes and one-story buildings with faded blue roofs littered the distant floor below Hal.

Water coursed throughout the ancient city. Bridges of pale stone leaped over wide carved channels to restrain and divert the water. In some areas, the ruins were flooded where the waters had flowed unchecked, or the protections had been eroded with time.

Vines choked many of the buildings, but there were clear marketplaces, avenues, residential areas, and official buildings. That a place so massive could be so close to his Settlement was intriguing.

A massive palace up on the left, half-hidden by overgrown gardens and trees loomed and drew his attention. It rose on a shelf from amid a wide pool of water constantly fed from a series of man-made waterfalls erupting from various channels in the worked stone.

The size and scope of the place was more than Hal could imagine. No wonder the keinse had seen the ruins. It would have stuck out easily to them from so high above.

Your Perception has risen to Level 21.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+42%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+105%).

He made a mental note to use the keinse again in the near future to find such treasures as this.

An ancient city, right before his very eyes. He couldn’t believe it. There was just the small matter of getting down there.

They stood upon a rise that curved off to the left, and as Hal followed that curve, he came to a weathered set of stairs carved out of the hillside.

Taking them carefully, one step at a time, Hal made his way down to the ruins.

Everything loomed so much larger now that he was on the ground. Buildings he thought were large before, seemed disturbingly gargantuan. In fact, every building looked too big for his sensibilities. Even the closest structures had gaping doorways that were easily twenty feet tall.

And he suspected they would be even larger as he came closer.

Water flooded the broken, cracked stones that made the roadway into the ruins. An arched bridge crossed a placid river of water that leaked out of the cracked stone facing and spilled into the roadway.

But what stood out most to Hal were the strange, smooth stones. As far as his Shadesight enhanced eyes could see, the stones rose up at regular intervals every twenty feet. A crimson rope was looped over the top of the smoothed man-sized stones and then draped toward the next stone in line.

Standing ten feet tall and half as wide, the smooth dark stones looked rather imposing. Whatever markings were placed on them were faded with time to the point that Hal couldn’t even make out what was there.

The rope hung low enough that Hal would have to duck beneath it. For a moment, he thought to cut the cord with [Emissary]. He quickly thought better of it.

It would be just like him to unleash some horrible evil by disarming whatever protections were keeping it inside. Instead, Hal ducked beneath the cord and slipped between the stones.

“Do not damage the stones or the cord,” Hal warned.

Besal glanced at the red corded rope, then Hal. With a shrug, he slipped below it as well. The Rhino Beetle wasn’t nearly large enough to cause a problem, and he ambled right in after them.

“I don’t feel any particular sensation of strife or battle between creatures. Are you sure this is the right place for the second Communion?” Hal asked.

Besal continued without breaking stride or turning to look at Hal. “This place is steeped in strife. Can you not feel it? We will find what we seek within, of that I am sure.”

There was no ominous bellowing, no gonging alarm. In fact, the entire place felt long-since dead. The sound of the waterfalls Hal had spied from above was the only sound aside from a faint breeze every so often.

If it hadn’t been so dark or so cold, it would have been pleasant. Hal could imagine how beautiful the place must be when the sun lit it up.

The ruins rose and fell in great terraces with large sweeping stairs that curved up the side of the rounded cliff faces. Tall columns marched across some of the distant terraces, marking them as temples of some sort.

Throughout it all, Hal kept his guard up, but he felt oddly at peace. Relaxed. Even Besal stopped his usual wary, predatorial glancing.

“This is almost… nice,” Hal subvocalized.

“Yes. There is a soothing peace to this place that is in direct opposition to what I felt before passing those stones. And that worries me more than anything, yet I cannot find the strength to grow angry or alarmed. Do not trust the peace you feel, Hal. Something is not right.”

Hal was pretty sure that Besal would distrust a warm bath, but he kept that thought to himself.

Ancient pillars dotted the avenues that were choked with weeds and overgrowth. A few pillars were broken and crumbling, some still held a crystal aloft as if it were meant to light the way.

Whatever magic may have been within the crystals had long since been spent, and the crystals were dark.

As Hal had suspected, the buildings were taller up close. The smallest building was easily fifty feet tall, and that was a small single-bedroom home. Peering inside, Hal saw that everything was sized for a resident that was much larger than he was. Not quite a giant, but certainly close.

The tables came up to Hal’s chest, and while he could sit in the chairs, he had to hop up into them. Bookshelves with half-rotted books lined a few of the walls, floor-to-ceiling.

Every home was the same, whether multi-story or single, they all were fairly uniform. Moldering books that he couldn’t salvage, no treasure or loot that he could find.

By the time they had reached the circular area Hal had assumed to be a marketplace, the sun was already lighting the sky to the east a hazy pink.

130

An arc of brilliant, scintillating light broke the gloom of the forest, followed quickly by three more swerving missiles. Elora wasted no time in dumping her MP.

With Wildsmaster set as her Focused Class, she wouldn’t be limited to Leveling Up only when she deposited EXP into the Class from her Discordant Stone.

Rather, as soon as she got any EXP, it went straight into Wildsmaster. It stopped her from being able to Level Up her Paladin or Thief, but she didn’t want to Level those anyway.

More importantly, it meant she could Level Up while she was fighting. Elora could drain her MP dry, killing this Morbolger with extreme prejudice, only to have it fill up again as soon as it died.

Elora’s Lightning Barrage performed flawlessly, as it was wont.

The Morbolger’s coiling limbs rolled up in great spirals. Whatever control it had over its body was gone, done in by its severe weakness to Elora’s lightning elemental arrows.

She watched, as she had every time since the first Young Morbolger Elaise had shown her, as the creature tore itself apart.

It couldn’t help it. Every fiber of its body was ripped and shredded as the conductive innards of the monster were forced to contract at the same time. Morbolgers were powerful things. If given half a chance, they would crush the life out of a heavily armored adventurer.

But now, thanks to Elaise’s “lessons,” Elora understood how to turn their strength into a weakness. Arcs of blue electricity danced along the Morbolger’s body. Its powerful vine-like tendrils burst open with explosive force, showering the area in ichorous goo.

The foul liquid splashed across the mossy ground in front of Elora, standing just outside its range. Aside from being incredibly conductive, their blood was also highly flammable.

Some strange magical property of the plant monster kept it from burning alive, and so while most plant-based entities were weak to fire, a Morbolger was emphatically not.

It would turn into a towering torch of rage. Eventually, it might succumb to the bite of the ravenous flames, but not before it destroyed everybody nearby and burned their remains for good measure.

You defeat the [Morbolger | Lv.50]

You gain 1,800 Experience Points.

You earn 180 Sparks.

Wildsmaster reaches Level 21.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

Your Archery Skill has risen to Level 34.

+1.5% Ranged damage (+51.0%).

+1.25% Effective distance (+42.5%).

Your Arcane Archery has risen to Level 12.

+1.2% Magic damage potency (+14.4%).

-0.4% Mana cost (-4.8%).

Once the forest stilled, Elora took a look around at the remains of the monster. Elaise hopped down from a branch high above and motioned her over.

Together, the pair continued on. They were making good time, felling monsters only when it was for a lesson, or when it behooved them. Like Elora, Elaise was a fine fighter. Neither would shy away from a fight if it was worthwhile.

But speed was of the essence. Something was wrong with the Shiverglades. Monsters that should have been long-since dormant were waking up.

There was a presence, a disturbance according to Elaise, that was riling up the Shiverglades. As if a contender were stalking about, shouting for a challenge. It happened suddenly late last night and hadn’t abated since.

The morning was coming fast to greet them, burning off the low-lying chill fog that clung to the roots and soft black earth of the Shiverglades’s forests.

Far to the south and east of the Settlement, the pair had put miles between them and that first Morbolger that Elora had put down.

As Elora followed Elaise, glad that Komachi was sleeping in her pocket dimension where she could dismiss her familiars to, she was tempted to fiddle with her attributes.

More than that, she felt the familiar urge to boost her CHR up past it’s abysmal 3. She knew, without a doubt, that it was hindering her socially. But it had become a calling card of sorts.

With low - but not horribly low - CHR, she always had a ready excuse for offending somebody or seeming brusque. Mostly, Elora just didn’t like people.

On that, Elaise and Elora agreed. Animals were far more preferable to people.

There was… another reason. One that she didn’t like to think of.

If she could find a way to remove her Paladin Class, she would. That, almost as much as her general distaste for societal niceties that her traitorous mother was always so fond of, made sure she would keep her CHR at 3 forevermore.

And so, like a typical Ranger, she dropped all 5 points into DEX. Not that she was a Ranger anymore. Her Class had evolved into a Fabled Class, the Wildsmaster.

It was a colossal step up above Ranger. Being able to retroactively receive traits and abilities that she would have gotten as a Wildsmaster from Level 1 was amazing.

Unfortunately, it didn’t allow her to reset any older perks, or gain any additional perk points. Though she did gain them every 5 Levels now, which was a nice bonus.

“We break cover, I show you something,” Elaise said, crouched in front of a wide pair of dark emerald bushes with golden berries. She caught Elora’s eye drifting toward them. “Know these?”

“Fool’s Joy,” Elora repeated mechanically. She had begrudgingly accepted Elaise as her tutor and was determined to be a good student. Even if she seemed scatterbrained in her approach to teaching.

[Fool’s Joy] was an edible berry, one of many in the Shiverglades. It had an effect similar to drinking too much ale without the liver disease or the hangover. In short, fun to watch people stumble about and ramble but not the best thing to eat when out in the wilds.

She told Elaise as much, and her tutor nodded in approval as she spread the wide fronds of the undergrowth aside. Elora knew it was a slight. One that Elaise had shown her many times.

Gritting her teeth, Elora stepped through without a whisper of sound. Just as Elaise had intended.

Despite her Levels in Thief and Ranger, she still paled in comparison to Elaise. A barbarian who was half-naked and with a massive greatsword strapped to her back was more silent and stealthy than the girl raised in the forests around Fallwreath.

Elora shook her head. So much of the world seemed turned on its head of late. But she reminded herself that her personal pride could be set aside for the greater good.

And right now, getting to Elaise’s scouting party to convince them to help the Bravers Guild defend their home was paramount. Her hurt feelings and wounded pride would have their day, she was certain.

Once things were stable again, she was going to deliver some delicious payback to Elaise. But not until then.

She would not risk their new home.

Elaise appeared at her side out of thin air. “Come, this way,” she said, veering off to the left. The forest thinned, becoming rocky and moss-covered. Before them loomed tall smooth stones about the size of a man.

Faint writing in a script Elora didn’t know covered the rocks, though it was hard for even her superior Perception skill to pick out. Elaise walked up to one and placed her hand on it gently.

The script glowed a faint purple-blue. A cord of red rope was strung along the tops of each stone like a rudimentary fence.

She’d seen this sort of thing before. It was a warding. But for what?

“Stones protect. Keep great darkness at bay. Many places like this. Many under water, deep valleys. No light. No air. Only death. All tribes in Shiverglades bound to protect these places,” Elaise said. She motioned up to a nearby rise that afforded them a view of a large set of ruins.

It was absolutely massive. Built along multiple shelves of stone, the ruined structures were utterly alien to Elora’s eyes. A dark miasma hung over the ruins, thick and coiling like something alive.

“What happens if we pass through?” Elora asked.

Elaise raised an eyebrow at her. “You want die? Go ahead, try.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, and hardly believing that Elaise would allow her to die, she reached out a hand toward the space between the stones.

A webbing of electrified energy, a barrier, held back her fingers as surely as if she were pressing against granite.

Grumbling, she pressed harder. Elora even leaned her shoulder into the barrier and bulled ahead as mightly as she could. All to no avail.

“Cannot get in,” Elaise said with a superior attitude. It was one of two attitudes she seemed to possess, the other being scorn. “Is Ruins of Cirta. We seal, centuries ago.

“Home of ancient mages. Broke world. Nearly destroy it. Killed selves. Many come looking for ancient secrets, want power.” Elaise shook her head sadly. “Is why we protect Black Lands. Home to much magic. Cradle of life here. Much power.”

Elora frowned at her, then at the barrier. She pulled back her hand and as the magical force faded, she swore she caught a faint geometric pattern but it was gone too fast.

Standing so close to the ridge that overlooked the ruins, Elora couldn’t argue with Elaise. There was something deeply powerful coming from that place, magic she felt deep in her bones even from more than a mile away.

And she knew that setting foot in those ruins was a death sentence.

131

“Besal,” Hal said, his voice strained with worry, “what is this place?”

They passed into the depths of one of the larger buildings, a temple of some sort with pristine white fluted pillars. Gorgeous depictions of celestial beings decorated the inner halls. Throughout it all, Hal felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

Something was very wrong. The problem was, he couldn’t figure out what.

“I do not rightly know,” Besal admitted. “As I told you before, I can only feel locations of strife and darkness. Only at such sites might we have our Communion.

“It is hard to find an appropriate location. It must be steeped in ever-greater conflict and hardship. Something about this place is mired in an ages-lost battle, one that I cannot tell if it was won or lost. But there is darkness here, and we shall use it to our ends.”

Hal looked over his shoulder, Shadesight showing the distant rectangle of light that was the entrance. The Rhino Beetle had refused to go inside, but seemed content to stay at the entrance.

I probably should have taken a cue from him, Hal thought.

“But you did not,” Besal said, marching through the dark. “And because you did not, we will only grow in power. Look upon this. Tell me what you feel.”

Hal turned back to see Besal standing over a dais of some sort, circular with worn etchings in the polished stone. At its center was a dark metal, almost like bronze, that was cast in a bas-relief of some long-ago war or battle.

Mages - or something close to them, Hal guessed - wearing long robes reached toward distant worlds. Perhaps they were stars, Hal couldn’t easily tell, and it didn’t much matter what they were doing.

His eyes were drawn to the Perception-illuminated marks on the back of each of their hands. A mark that Hal had. A mark that was supposed to only be given to Founders. And yet, here were dozens of people with the same mark.

Your Perception has risen to Level 22.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+44%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+110%).

He felt a connection to the strange metallic hoops set about the forest. And everywhere he went in the Ruins of Cirta, he could feel something within the stones. A low hum of power, like standing too close to an electrical transformer.

Whenever he mentioned it to Besal, the man only shrugged his shadowy shoulders. He could not feel it, but Hal could.

And right then, he felt like stepping any closer would get him electrified.

So, naturally, he stepped onto the middle of the dais. The slightly raised, metallic relief depressed as if it were a large button. The entire platform began to sink into the ground.

Besal quickly stepped atop the descending ancient elevator. Smooth stone walls encircled them as they went deeper and deeper.

They were plunged into utter darkness as the stonework fell away after nearly a hundred feet to reveal a vast, velvety emptiness. There was nothing there for his Shadesight to see beside streams of water that glittered in his magical sight.

Hal could see no ground, no buildings nor crumbling ruin. All was infinite dark, with only waterfalls surrounding him. But the waterfalls made not a whisper. There was no sound from the sheets of water.

Whatever ground there might be was so far below, and the cavern so wide, that he could hear nothing of the waterfall’s impact.

The dais they stood upon was roughly twenty feet across, and it was still moving down through the cold, still air.

There was a sense of vastness about him. And for the first time, he could feel what Besal was talking about.

Great magic had been worked here. It left a metallic tang in the air. Whatever it must have been was on a scale unlike anything Hal could imagine.

Before Hal could focus anymore on it, a heavy thump made the dais vibrate with the impact. Both Hal and Besal turned to face the source of that noise.

A robed figure stood before them, looking quite similar to the same manner of mage that was depicted in the scene at their feet. His hands were hidden within sleeves that were folded over his middle.

Eyes of steel-blue peeked out from the cowl. “You would seek to know our magic? You, who have not even unlocked the first stage of the Kol’thil. Do you think its golden ink pretty?” The man’s voice dripped vitriol as he pulled back one sleeve to reveal a coppery mark, similar to Hal’s own.

Similar, but different as well. Runes and sigils filled the empty spaces between the geometric shapes. The whole thing looked less like a deconstructed 20-sided die, and more like a 6-sided die. But the similarity was unmistakable.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hal said.

As if detecting that he was trying to lie about his mark, the golden mark appeared like a floating hologram above his forearm. Hal furrowed his brow at that.

“Listen,” he said. “I’m not trying to take anything. I’m only here to….” As he trailed off, he realized there was no way to explain that the man might understand.

How was he to explain that he was here to gain power, but not their power? No matter what he said, as long as he was telling the truth, it would sound like he was coming for whatever it was this guy was protecting.

Hal looked over to Besal, who was slowly sliding into a defensive position. He clearly felt this was a fight they could not avoid.

The robed figure gasped, staring at the shining vision of the mark. His copper-colored mark responded in kind as it floated off the back of his fist. That struck Hal as odd for several long moments as his mind desperately tried to warn him what that meant.

“You possess a Gilded Kol’thil!” the man screeched in alarm and fury. “You would profane our legacy by choosing a worthless cretin such as that? Come. I will provide you with the power to grow stronger. Render unto me your power, I beseech you!”

Hal drew out [Emissary], Splicing aberration, eldritch, and keeping shadow so he could see in the dark. Why did it sound like the mage wasn’t talking to Hal anymore, but to the mark on his arm?

“He does not know what you are,” the mage pleaded. “He is ignorant. I am one of the last of my order, we who used you to repair this broken star. But a shadow I may be, with your power we could begin again.

“I see where my brothers and sisters made their mistake. We were cast down by the jealous and fearful masses. We should have burned them all to cinder. I will not make the same mistake. You know who your true master is. He will never unlock your power.”

As crazy as the mage in front of him seemed for talking to his Founder’s Mark, Hal couldn’t shake the feeling like the mark was somehow… alive.

It started small. A dull, tingling sensation. And then it grew more severe.

His left arm began to go numb, inch by inch.

“Yes,” cooed the mage. “Come to me. You can take the power of my lesser Kol’thil. See what I have done with its power already. Meager of the Order I may be, but I am worlds beyond this neophyte!”

Hal shut his eyes and focused on the mark. He could feel it moving. As if it were slowly being pulled away from him. It was the strangest sensation he could remember feeling.

No, he thought with a resounding force of will.

The slipping sensation stopped. Everything seemed to hang on that moment. There was another violent tug on Hal’s mark, as if the mage ahead was trying to forcibly steal it now that Hal had stopped his earlier attempt.

Holding firm, Hal thwarted that attack too. It was unlike anything else. This wasn’t pure magic, but it wasn’t physical either. This was something else.

Whether he wanted it or not, the mark was part of him. Aside from its magic, it proclaimed him a Founder. Whether or not there was more to it, Hal didn’t want to lose it.

For the first time in a very long while, Hal actively wanted to keep his mark. A sense of pride bubbled up out of nowhere, and with it came a surge of anger.

How dare this simpleton try to steal what we are!

Hal paused, but only for a moment. Those weren’t his thoughts. At least, not the thoughts he knew of. Besal turned to regard him, a look of shock on his fuming crimson eyes showing that he had heard it too.

A voice that was of Hal, yet not.

His mark flared a brilliant gold. Hal channeled Deep Magic, coating [Emissary] in a cloud of dark shadow, interspersed with motes of darkness and illuminated from within by crimson flashes of eldritch lightning.

Arcing blood-red energy crawled up and down the curving blade of [Emissary] as Hal tightened his grip on the hilt.

“You want a fight?” Hal said, gathering his [Chain of Binding] to his left hand. “Fine by me.”

Your Intimidation has risen to Level 4.

+1% Intimidation success (+4%).

+1.25% Pacification chance (+5.0%).

132

“Even when you know nothing, you braggarts with your golden Kol’thils act like you’re so superior,” the mage said with a snort.

His arms lifted skyward, streams of water reflected the coppery shining mark on the back of his hand. Arcs of copper lightning erupted from it.

Hal cast Feather Barrier on himself, spreading it to Besal as easily as he would to any of his friends. But the mage wasn’t attacking.

At least not yet.

The copper lightning shimmered and roared around the opposite end of the dais. It slowly took shape as a large, hulking monstrosity. One that towered over the small mage ahead of him and took up a good half of the platform itself.

Clad in oily darkness, its too-wide oval head split with rows upon rows of sharp ivory teeth, it was a mockery of a Morbolger. One that was larger than any other Morbolger Hal had ever seen or experienced.

Waves of malice rolled off the creature. Instead of thin vestigial tendrils atop its head, there were glowing nodules that gave off a faint sapphire glow.

The dozens of glowing ovoid things reflected a million times over in the sheets of water falling all around them as the elevator continued to descend. It looked faintly like they were in a starscape of faint, shimmering blue stars.

“I will show you the power of the copper Kol’thil,” the mage said, folding his arms calmly once more and standing in front of his summoned creature. “Once my Voidbolger has finished with you, perhaps I will scavenge what is left of your corpse to learn how a child came to be in possession of a Kol’thil.”

Besal, standing beside Hal, set his blade out wide in a mirror image of Hal. Dark lightning jumped up and down the simple [Bone Longsword]. “I don’t like being ignored,” he growled.

Before Hal realized what Besal was going to do, he launched himself at the mage. Black wings dusted with starlight spread wide and flapped to provide him with greater speed.

Realizing he was letting Besal wade in without him, Hal used Convergence to speed his movements and rushed after him.

The mage flickered, his image wavering as the Voidbolger slithered forward on trunk-thick tendrils. The two became one, with faint crackling copper lightning racing up and down the creature’s oily hide.

With its command of the battlefield due to its sheer size, the Voidbolger started off combat with an obvious move. It paused a moment and inhaled deeply. Strings of glittering saliva in the creature’s mouth broke and fell inward.

The orange-glow of Premonition practically coated the entire platform.

“Besal, up!” Hal shouted, though he didn’t need to.

Besal had seen the same fight Hal had back at the Settlement. He knew, perhaps even before Hal, what was going to happen.

With nowhere else to go, Hal leaped with all his might into the air just as Besal took wing and gave a glancing blow with his longsword to the Voidbolger. It hardly seemed to hurt the creature as it breathed out a noxious plume of toxic breath.

The reek of it nearly made Hal faint. As he reached the apex of his jump, he realized something else.

The elevator was continually descending. And it was going down at a much faster rate than he thought it was. The height of his jump was magnified several times over.

Besal swooped over to him, caught him about the waist, and dove after the receding platform. A whipping black vine cracked the air where Hal was just a second ago.

Without Besal, he would have been hit squarely without the ability to dodge it in any way.

Another tendril cracked through the air, then another. The Voidbolger was fast. Despite its massive size, it had an array of weaponry it could send at them at a moment’s notice with little wind-up.

The Voidbolger lifted its gigantic maw and breathed in once more, readying another breath attack. A swath of Premonition glow illuminated a wide cone of the air. It was interesting seeing it anywhere but on the ground.

As Besal pulled them out of range, a dark cloying miasma flooded out. It was different than before. “Drop me,” Hal insisted.

“Right into its breath?” Besal asked, though he trusted in Hal and dropped him straight into the creature’s open maw some twenty feet below.

Hal took a deep breath and let the miasmatic fog roll over him. His armor held against the assault, but his skin still burned as if he had fallen asleep in the sun all day. Blisters formed on his skin as the acidic air did its work.

But the damage was less than he was expecting. Only a tenth of his HP was shaved off, and that was a worthy exchange in his opinion.

Knowing better than to use fire on such a beast, Hal inverted his grip on [Emissary] and Spliced insect instead of shadow.

Instantly the world darkened, save for the sapphire glow atop the creature’s head that marked it clearly enough. With that faint light reflected in the waterfalls around the descending platform, it was just barely enough to see by.

The dark shadow that swirled over [Emissary] was replaced by a biting swarm of insects.

Hal hit the creature’s maw with the sword leading. It plunged deep into the bottom jaw, and despite his improved armor, Hal felt the Voidbolger’s many sharp teeth tear into his foot and his knee as he drove [Emissary] deep into the creature’s mouth taking another 5% of his HP.

In the same instant, he removed a hand and conjured a goblin bomb. Only, this bomb didn’t sizzle with a burning wick. It hissed and buzzed like a cloud of gnats.

Pushing off the creature, Hal pulled free his sword and chucked Bomb Toss into the creature’s rapidly shutting mouth. It snapped shut on the bomb and nearly took Hal’s foot with it.

The insect-aspected Bomb Toss exploded, blasting open the Voidbolger’s mouth as a cloud of biting insects swarmed out. At first, Hal dove to the side, thinking it was another breath attack before he understood the truth of it.

They were eating the creature’s oily hide, but not fast enough.

On it came, whipping tendrils with wild abandon at Hal. Besal dove at it and cut it with his blade, but any damage he did seemed almost inconsequential. Every strike of Besal’s claws or the longsword was met with a faint coppery shimmer.

Scrambling this way and that, using his [Chain of Binding] to alter his trajectory to avoid a full-force hit, Hal was barely able to keep up.

He lobbed another Bomb Toss at the creature, but it was a half-hearted affair, and the Voidbolger easily swatted it out of the air. The bomb exploded, and the tip of that vine was reduced to a seeping nub, but it had more tendrils than Hal could ever hope to cut off.

There was no parrying, no turning aside the powerful bulk of the Voidbolger’s vines that came on with the striking speed of a snake and the physical prowess of a charging bull.

One hit was all it would take, and he would careen over the edge of the platform. His only hope would be that Besal could save him, and he didn’t want to tempt fate twice.

One tendril came crashing down, and Hal whipped out to the side with the [Chain of Binding], avoiding the attack entirely. As he did, he summoned Divebomb. The phantasm of a great diving bird struck the Voidbolger.

There was a bright flash of gold and copper light as the creature was struck. It reeled from the impact, but if it was badly hurt, it didn’t show it. Instead, the Voidbolger came on with even greater ferocity.

One, two, went its vines again, trying to trap Hal between its strikes. The monster took up most of the platform, but with Hal’s Convergence and his [Chain of Binding], he was able to largely stay one step ahead of it.

Besal continued to pelt it with minor damage, but it was enough of a constant distraction that Hal wasn’t its sole focus the entire time.

But the creature was not an unthinking beast. It had intelligence. Whether that was imparted from its creator or some facet of the Voidbolger itself, Hal didn’t know.

What he did know was that every strike came closer than the last. He was spending all his time avoiding getting hit, and not nearly enough attacking. But every time he tried, he felt like he was playing into the thing’s plans. Fortunately, he was racking up the Patient Offense stacks with every narrow evasion.

It wasn’t a fight he could keep up. Already he was slowing, tiring. Every dive and dodge needed the aid of his [Chain of Binding] so he wouldn’t fly up as the platform continued its descent.

As the monster breathed in, rearing back, Besal dove down casting Divebomb. The spell took the Voidbolger straight in its opened maw. It choked on the spell, preventing it from using its breath attack.

Suddenly finding the Voidbolger open, Hal slapped his hand down onto the ground and cast Bloodrake. Spiked ethereal chains leaped up from the platform. They rattled and clanked as the spiked metal tightened its grip on the Voidbolger.

The creature was crushed beneath the tightening grip of the wrist-thick metal links. Its tendrils coiled beneath it, and Hal redoubled his efforts to tighten the chains on the beast.

Besal laid into the creature with everything he had. Standing atop the creature’s head, he stabbed and slashed with claw and blade. The sapphire nodules on its head burst with showers of phosphorescent blue light.

Hal felt the chains bite harder, inflicting their bleed effect. The effect was dramatically empowered by the stacks of Patient Offense. Wounds burst forth with thick sap-like blood. For each of the sapphire nodules on its head that burst, the Voidbolger seemed to weaken.

Or so they thought.

With a furious roar of rage, the likes of which nearly froze the marrow in Hal’s bones, the Voidbolger burst from its confines. Hal’s spectral chains broke and burst apart into disparate motes of mana.

But the Voidbolger was not finished.

As it broke the chains, it leaped into the air. Coupled with the downward momentum of the platform, it sailed through the air. The platform lit up with a Premonition glow, driving him to move faster with Preternatural Dodge.

A pair of trunk-thick vines crashed down as it tried to whip Hal. He dodged one, reversed direction with his [Chain of Binding], and dodged the other only to realize that it wasn’t trying to hit him.

One look above told Hal that the Voidbolger had taken a page out of his own book. Using its vines, it curled the tapered ends of the limbs over the platform and pulled its bulk down faster than it would have fallen.

There was no way Hal could get out from under its massive bulk as the Voidbolger crashed on top of him.

133

As the Voidbolger came down, Hal knew he was in trouble. Even with Preternatural Dodge, there was no way he could get out of range. But he could cast a spell with his enhanced speed.

Hal reached for a spell he had almost entirely forgotten about. One that had a much higher MP cost than any of his other spells. All of his movements were sped up by Preternatural Dodge. Usually, that would be exclusively used to get out of the way.

Instead, Hal used it to speed up his spellcasting.

In the blink of an eye, nearly a quarter of his MP was gone. The spell, Manatorpor, coalesced as a swirling orb of blue-green mana in the palm of Hal’s hand.

He sent it out toward the center of the platform. Even as he did, it expanded. The basketball-sized sphere doubled, then doubled again, exponentially expanding with each passing moment until it enveloped the entire platform.

With a radius of 30ft, Manatorpor could easily cover an area twice the size of the magically descending platform. But what was most important, was that the spell caught the Voidbolger as it came down.

It didn’t stop it or even slow it to the point that the spell’s description would have one assume. The Voidbolger was too strong for that.

What the spell did do was allow Hal to narrowly avoid being turned into a red smear.

Paired with his enhanced speed courtesy of Preternatural Dodge, the Voidbolger’s descent was slowed just enough that he could slide between a few of its coiling vines it used for legs.

The platform shuddered under the colossal blow that nearly took Hal’s left arm clean off. Try as he might to slip between two trunk-thick vines, Hal wasn’t able to get his [Chain of Binding] out of the way in time.

The [Chain of Binding] ripped from his grasp, bloodying his fingers. Sandwiched between the Voidbolger’s limb and the metal platform, Hal knew he wouldn’t be getting it back anytime soon.

With a snarl of unchecked aggression, Hal chain-cast Goblin Rush over and over again. [Emissary] weaved about him, adding to the chorus of striking phantasmal blades. Goring Blade transitioned into Rending Steel as he struck with every ounce of savagery he had.

He could not stay beneath the creature, his only hope was that he could cut himself out fast enough to avoid being crushed.

Because as soon as the Voidbolger realized it had not killed him, it would crush its bulk on top of him.

Only Hal’s Manatorpor and his rampant aggression gave the Voidbolger enough pause for him to avoid that grisly fate. Dark bilious ichor streamed from its many wounds. The smell nearly knocked him senseless. His lungs burned like fire.

Stalwart Soul Activation.

You partially resist the effects of Noxious Wounds.

You are Poisoned.

Staggering out from between the seeping wounds he had just carved, Hal stumbled as the toe of his boot caught a raised section of the platform. Rather than resist it, he collapsed his legs as Angram had taught him and tucked his shoulder.

The move saved his life as a sweeping tendril as thick around as two Giels whisked over his head at the same time as Hal rolled through the stumble.

Getting his feet beneath him, he turned and pushed to a standing position. And he noticed something that made both himself and the Voidbolger pause.

Besal was glowing.

A crimson haze surrounded him, his wings grew larger, more demonic. The [Bone Longsword] in his hand transformed into a wicked thing with barbed teeth instead of a straight blade.

His roar split the air, a guttural rage that resonated within Hal and only then did he realize what was off.

After having used so much Beast Magic, he should have been at least at Strain Affliction Level 1. A quick glance showed Hal at 0 Strain.

Besal was taking it all upon himself. Somehow, Hal’s strain was empowering him.

Hal wasted no time in pelting the Voidbolger with every spell at his disposal.

The bleeding, wounded thing thrashed about as Divebombs crashed into it from every angle. Premonition lit his way, Preternatural Dodge granted him the speed he needed, while Manatorpor slowed the behemoth enough that Hal could narrowly avoid its killing blows.

And all the while, Besal grew stronger. His body of shadow and starlight grew denser, more corporeal. For every terrible rending strike of that brutal sword, a barbaric claw-strike followed in its wake.

The platform grew thick with the sludgy lifeblood of the Voidbolger. No longer held back by his Strain, Hal’s barrage of Beast Magic was only rivaled by the sheer ferocity of Besal’s altered form.

When his MP began to bottom out, he found a ready wellspring within Besal’s largely untapped pool. Using Assimilation, he siphoned off Besal’s offered MP to continue his magical assault.

For a moment, Hal worried that Besal was reverting to his Beast-self but there was something different about him this time. Not only was Besal attacking with enhanced fervor, but he was also carefully choosing his attacks.

Every attack severed or hampered a swinging limb that would have come close to Hal, if not hit him entirely.

Rearing back its bloodied maw, the Voidbolger breathed in. Besal dove in to attack, the monster's breath attacks made it vulnerable for a second or two. And with their enhanced speed, there wasn’t much danger to the telegraphed attacks.

The Voidbolger seemed to know this, and Hal’s only warning was that he had no glowing Premonition lighting up the platform.

Before he could register what that meant, or that the Voidbolger was even capable of such a feint, Besal dove in.

Fury incarnate, Besal bellowed and slashed at the inky flesh atop its head. His attack was swatted away as the Voidbolger shut its mouth with a snap and reached up with another tendril to ensnare him.

Through their connection, Hal could feel the life being crushed out of Besal. And still, the man fought on with every ounce of strength he could bring to bear.

But it wasn’t going to be enough. Hal could already feel Besal’s lifeforce ebb.

Using Convergence to empower his jump, Hal leaped upon the thick tendril crushing the life from Besal.

I really hope this works, he thought as he stabbed [Emissary] deep into the flesh of the Voidbolger. At the same time, he unleashed every drop of mana the sword held within it in one colossal burst.

The Voidbolger’s limb bulged weirdly and began to bubble along its length before it burst open in a shower of reeking blood. The limb fell free and Besal rolled out of its limp grasp as they both hit the floor.

Like a loose garden hose with the water pressure turned up, the Voidbolger’s severed limb flailed and sprayed black bilious fluid in great gouts. It washed over the platform and Hal watched as Besal was carried on the flood over the edge and into the darkness around below.

Hal fought to stay on the platform, but his footing was slick and his essence limbs that he conjured to try and grip the platform couldn’t find much purchase on the metal.

He watched as his [Chain of Binding] was carried on the flood of dark reeking fluid and was swallowed by the dark. That was one of the last heirlooms he had from Thirty-seven.

Shouting his denial, Hal tried to wade through the sludge that flowed and threatened to spill him over the edge. But he simply could not hold his ground. Once, twice, three times, he stumbled and lost more ground.

He barely managed to lob two Bomb Tosses at the creature. And while the insect-aspected bombs bit and ate at the creature, it simply was not enough.

The Voidbolger leaned back and took a deep breath. The orange glow of Premonition covered the entire platform. Without Besal to help him, Hal would have to time his jump perfectly.

In short order, the Voidbolger had soundly turned the tables on him. He was low on MP, down an ally, and out of options. Though the Voidbolger seemed to be bleeding out, it hardly noticed it.

His Manatorpor bought him the fraction of a second he needed to leap with all his might over the noxious billowing fumes that rolled out of the Voidbolger’s mouth.

Dark inky tendrils stabbed at him as soon as he landed back down on the platform, and only through dumb luck did he manage to avoid being gored completely.

He slipped and banged his knee painfully on the metal platform. Besal was still below him somewhere. He felt certain he would know if something worse had befallen him.

“You’ve forced my hand,” Hal said through gritted teeth.

Out came his left hand, he focused on the Founder Sigil Dominate. A surge of gold lightning leaped from the mark floating over the back of his left hand toward the Voidbolger.

A shield of shimmering copper deflected the magical essence and sent it scattering into the dark. The waterfalls around the platform reflected the flash of gold and copper, searing the vision on the back of Hal’s eyes.

He stared dumbfounded, all but certain it would have worked as a streaking tendril whipped at his head.

134

Hal snapped back to his senses, and in a scrambling motion, he sheathed [Emissary] and dropped down to one knee. The tendril whipped right over his head, ruffling his hair and the hood on the back of his neck.

Both hands dove through the sludge to the metal beneath. He looked up at the Voidbolger, trying to peer at the mage within it. The intelligence controlling the monster. “I’ve got more tricks yet,” he snarled.

With all of his might, Hal used Mana Investiture. The metal was already weakened from the sludge, but it still drained all of Hal’s MP as he frantically tried to replenish it with Assimilation.

The flooring began to crack as he focused on using Mana Investiture to break the metal. His last resort had been to Dominate the thing. Barring that, he would have to send them both into the abyss and hope that Besal could catch him.

A screech echoed in the darkness as the platform buckled and shifted as Hal’s mana broke it down. Motes of blue mana, Hal’s mana, drifted up through the sludge like blue embers.

“I really hope you’re able to catch me, Besal,” Hal subvocalized.

When he received no response, he didn’t slow or cease. There would be no turning back. This was the course he had chosen, and he would see it to the end.

He only hoped that if this spelled his death, that his Manaseed would still be there to revive him.

Pushing those grim thoughts aside, Hal funneled one last burst of mana into the large metal disc. He didn’t need to break it down completely, only enough that it would fail to hold up the massive creature.

And fail it did.

With a resounding and ominous creak, the metal platform began to crack. Spiderwebbed fractures made themselves known only by the sudden disappearance of the sludge as it dripped into the newly formed channels.

The cracks widened into rifts. Pieces of the platform buckled and fell away. Both Hal and the Voidbolger fell into the dark, tumbling end over end.

Without any visual references, Hal couldn’t be sure where he was much less how far away he was from the ground. The Voidbolger, with only a few of its sapphire orbs remaining atop its head, was in worse shape than Hal.

The Voidbolger opened wide its bleeding maw and unleashed a stream of acidic fumes at him, but it proved hilariously ineffective. They were falling at such a speed that the dangerous fumes of its breath attacks were whipped away above their heads before they ever found their mark.

Unfortunately, Hal was almost entirely tapped out. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t use another spell. His Stamina was all but spent, and his HP was hovering around 35%.

Trying to drink a potion mid-fall would no doubt have similar effects to the Voidbolger’s breath attack.

The Voidbolger was making an ungainly attempt to swim through the air toward Hal. Inky tendrils wormed through the air as it slowly came closer.

Remembering his high school physics, Hal stopped trying to correct himself as he fell with his arms splayed out. He tucked in his arms to his sides and pointed himself straight as an arrow.

As ridiculous as it seemed, he fell faster than the dramatically heavier - but much larger - Voidbolger. Its tendrils tried to ensnare him, but he was already gone.

The monster receded into the darkness, just a scattered bit of blue light in the distance.

It had seemed as if the platform was descending for an incredibly long time, and so Hal wouldn’t have been surprised if the floor of the great cavern came up and ended his life any second.

Instead, a pair of strong hands grabbed him about his chest, and his fall slowed. “Quite a lot of faith you placed in me,” Besal scolded. “Or was your plan to dash yourselves against the rocks below before your adversary could do it for you?”

“It was a calculated risk,” Hal said.

“We both know you are terrible at math.”

“I didn’t say it was a good risk.”

As Besal spread his great wings out wide to slow their fall, the Voidbolger streaked past them like a falling star. It crashed into the ground less than fifty feet below them with a thunderous report that echoed off the spacious cavern.

Besal and Hal dropped to the ground hard, but not fatally so. When Besal released Hal, he bent his knees and tumbled forward to absorb some of the force.

There was a shallow pool of water all about the place, barely up to Hal’s calves. He rolled through the cold water three times before the momentum of his fall was fully dissipated, and even then his HP dropped 10% from the initial impact.

The pair staggered toward the downed creature, swords drawn. But they needn’t have bothered.

What they saw was a broken thing.

Copper lightning crackled all along the creature, and it broke apart into motes of mana. Tinged the same color as the mage’s lightning, they hung in the air like fireflies providing soft illumination.

The mage was also badly broken. His back fell upon a jut of stone and his breathing was shallow with a thin trickle of blood coming out of the corner of his mouth.

He wheezed a laugh as they approached. “You Golds,” he said with seething contempt. “Always so inventive. Willing to ruin yourselves and the world if it means achieving your goals.” He turned his head - though it cost him greatly - and spit blood in Hal’s general direction. “Ruining this star was not enough for you? Must you pillage its scars as well? As the last of my order, I would sooner see the Kol’thil snuffed out.”

The mage raised his hand, a white gleam of bone broke through the man’s purple robes. His mark shone brilliantly on the back of his trembling hand.

Besal thrust his sword into the man’s chest, but it did not stop the building of magic all about them. The motes of bright burnished copper danced about them, arcs of electricity leaping from one to another as something began to build.

Hal lunged forward with his left hand. His mark, his Kol’thil, surged to life and fended off the arcing copper lightning with that of gold.

Hal gripped the man’s wrist with the intention to grab it and slice off the arm with [Emissary] in the hopes that it would stop the build-up of magic.

Instead, the magic redoubled as if he had just poured gasoline on a fire. It burned his skin, singed his face. He almost fell back from the outpouring of magic.

Deep within the roaring torrent of mana, Hal could feel something else. Something familiar. He grabbed at it like a drowning man to a lifeline and as he did, the copper lightning died.

The motes of copper mana began to fizzle and fade. The mage’s eyes widened in horror. “Y-You cannot!” he wheezed.

But Hal was far beyond hearing him. He was somewhere within a maelstrom beyond anything he had ever witnessed before.

Forked copper lightning stabbed at the encroaching golden corona that rolled off his body. He reached out a hand toward the heart of that copper storm and the rolling mass of energy parted.

It was almost too easy.

A shifting, ever-folding, series of geometric lines stood at the center of that storm. Hal could feel a connection to it as surely as he could feel the connection to his own Kol’thil.

Reaching toward it, the Copper Kol’thil drifted out from the storm toward his outstretched hand. All along his forearm were golden markings, a riot of geometric shapes and sigils he had only glimpsed at within the [Balesian Codex].

The voice of the mage drifted through the crash of lightning against his protective golden light. Curling arcs of fiery luminescence rolled off Hal’s body, pushing back the storm and drowning out the lightning strikes.

“You would profane the Kol’thil!” the mage screeched like a madman. His words made no sense to Hal. And in truth, even if they did, he would not have cared.

This man had to be stopped. Had he not tried to take Hal’s Kol’thil, he would never have known it was even a possibility. In a fitting twist of irony, it was the mage that had shown Hal the way to defeating him.

“I should thank you,” Hal said to the copper storm that was the mage’s dwindling magical essence. “If not for you, I would never have known I could do this. You wanted my Kol’thil to be owned by more than a mere neophyte? Then take heart! Through your instruction, you have helped to make me worthy of the Kol’thil. Now, I really must ask you to stop screaming. It is very unbecoming.”

Hal lunged forward, arcs of copper lightning burned his arms and legs as he reached to meet the Copper Kol’thil.

The mage screamed.

Hal screamed.

Everything went dark.

135

The screaming stopped. All sound had stopped.

Nothing moved. There was only stillness.

A light blossomed, then another. In a flash of brilliance, thirteen pillars of multi-colored light flared in the dark around Hal, like welding torches.

Within their shifting colors, Hal could just barely make out the geometric markings that made up a variety of different Kol’thil. Gold, copper, iron, and many more.

Hal reached for [Emissary], but his hand closed around empty air. Reaching a hand out to the nearest pillar of flame, he tried to Dominate it. His fingers hooked as if he was grasping the air. Hal’s Kol’thil responded by sliding up to the back of his hand and sending a jolt of gold lightning toward the incandescent entity.

A bolt of prismatic lightning flew out in response, severing the flow of golden magic. Fear spiked in Hal’s chest as another bolt of lightning, this one dark as hardened iron, streaked from his right.

Without any idea of what he was doing, Hal moved by muscle memory. Shifting his weight to the balls of his feet, Hal twisted and raised his arms to defend himself as he had been taught.

A shimmering barrier of golden light spread between his upraised forearms and blocked the bolt. The spark of brilliance as the two collided nearly blinded him.

Opening his eyes, he saw that he hadn’t blocked the bolt. He had somehow… captured it. It arced back and forth within the golden light. Twisting his hips, Hal turned to face his erstwhile attacker.

Rolling his forearms, Hal collapsed the barrier he had constructed and sent the bolt back at its owner.

There was a distant scream. One of the thirteen lights winked out.

Hal made a break for the opening as arcs of metallic lightning flew out at him. He raised an arm, twisted the shield that formed across his forearm, and redirected the flow of magic back at his attackers, but there were too many.

He never made it more than three steps before his back ignited in a web of pain that spread from his shoulder blades down to his ribs and up the back of his neck.

Caught mid-stride, his entire body locked up in agony. He tipped forward, crashing hard into the dark floor as bright spots filled his vision. Another bolt hit him in the side, and the explosive force of it tossed him through the air as surely as if he had been thrown.

“His first reaction is to fight,” said one elderly voice.

“He does not know who we are,” said a woman. “If he did, he surely would not have deigned to entertain such perilous thoughts.”

“Renthor’s Kol’thil has been taken,” said another. “We cannot allow a Balesian Mage to be disgraced so.”

“Peace,” said the first voice. “Renthor attacked this man first, did he not?”

“Witness,” said the woman.

A bluish light washed over the dark flooring. Gaining some small function of his body back, Hal rolled onto his back to see what was going on. To his amazement, a screen floated some twenty feet off the ground.

No, it wasn’t a screen, but a hologram. He clearly saw the round platform he had destroyed, as well as Besal and the robed mage.

He couldn’t hear anything, but he clearly remembered it well enough to replay the words in his head as he watched and waited while the locking paralysis slowly faded.

The hologram winked out. “You see, Renthor attacked first. This is a simple act of self-defense.”

“He is a barbarian! Look at him. He doesn’t have the faintest idea how to use the Kol’thil, what Order bequeathed its power to him? He hasn’t even taken the Calling, and you would let him walk away with not one but two Kol’thils? Hirst, you go too far.”

“The Binding saw many changes to our star,” Hirst rebuked. “Would you have our gifts fade from this star forevermore? Would that appease your jealousy toward those whom we bequeathed our former home?”

“This star once shown bright as forge fire,” said the seething man. “Now its fires are ashen cold. The star dies, it cries out, and none alive care to heed its call.”

“Mithtir is right,” said a somber voice. “Those that do hear, lack the power to do anything about it. Must we allow-”

Hal slowly sat up and got his feet beneath him. He stood and stared at the brilliant pillars of light all around him. None of what they were saying made any sense.

Worse, this all had the feel of a trial.

“Look upon his brow,” said the first grandfatherly voice.

“Stars upon a silver thread,” gasped Hirst. “What Portent is this? There are no Kings anymore.”

“Will you kill him then, Mithtir?” said the first voice. “Will you deny the Portent before your very eyes?”

There was a long, drawn-out moment where no voices spoke into the dark. Hal lifted his eyes toward his brow but could see nothing but a faint shimmer.

“The Elden Days are gone,” Mithtir finally said. “But never let it be said that Mithtir Darksbane stood in the way of a Portent true.”

“Then what is your verdict?” Hirst asked.

“We will stand aside and allow the Brightsoul, if that is what this Portent truly suggests, to be on his way,” said the first voice.

“Calamavi has the right of it,” Mithtir said, his voice subdued. “Let him go, but do not aid his passage! If he is truly a Brightsoul, let him find his own way in the dark. We, each of us, wandered the Abyss.

“He will face worse trials yet if the Portent rings true in the years to come. I would place this test as the least among that which stands before him and his path.”

“I agree with Mithtir’s assessment,” Calamavi said softly, though his disapproving tone did not match up with his words. “Let the Brightsoul leave, hinder not his progress, but neither shall we labor to aid his journey.”

“He will die,” Hirst argued. “He is not a Brightsoul, but a boy! You would sentence him to death.”

“Peace, Hirst,” Calamavi said. “Would you wish to put this to an official vote? You know what that would mean.”

“Yes, Hirst,” Mithtir sneered. “Do put it to a vote. You know the way the others will vote. The barbarian even snuffed out Feril’s light, one of your soft-hearted fellows!” He barked a harsh laugh. “Just like a barbarian, he will bite the hand that reaches out to aid him. If he is more than that, let him prove it unaided.”

A hush descended once again.

“What is your wish, Hirst?” Calamavi asked.

“I do not object,” Hirst answered. Though Hal could not see her body, or any bodies for that matter, he could practically envision her bowing her head in defeat. After a moment, she added, “Let the Brightsoul wander unaided to prove his worth.”

One of the twelve remaining burning pillars of light surged even brighter. “For your crimes of discorporating Novice Renthor, and absorbing his Kol’thil, you are exonerated. Go in peace,” Calamavi said. “Perhaps we shall meet again when you yet understand the gifts you possess.”

With that, the pillars of light winked out one by one until only three were left.

Hal didn’t know how he knew, but he was certain they were Hirst, Calamavi, and Mithtir. The brightest one, Calamavi, went dark. Hal was left with Hirst and Mithtir in the endless dark.

“I will be watching,” Mithtir warned. “Break the will of the Council, Hirst. Please do. These last centuries have been dreadfully boring. I will appreciate the chance to increase my standing even further.”

Mithtir’s light did not vanish and Hal could imagine the two having a staring contest.

“I would never work against the will of the Council,” Hirst said with saccharine sweetness. “I welcome your gaze, brother, for I too will be watching you. It would not do if you were to hinder our young charge’s progress to prove a point.”

Mithtir snorted, and both lights went out simultaneously, leaving Hal alone in the dark.

136

Hal’s head was pounding. He placed his fingertips against his temple and gently rubbed it as he tried to make some sense of what just happened.

Turning a slow circle, Hal tried to get a sense of where he was. This wasn’t the bottom of the cavern. That much was obvious.

Unending darkness stretched in every direction. The floor beneath his boots was firm as stone, but featureless. Shutting his eyes against the pain in his head made no difference. He couldn’t see anything.

Most alarming of all was when he tried to Splice, and nothing happened. The magic that was within him was just… gone.

“Besal?” Hal asked the gloom around him. He didn’t think the man was responsible, but they were intrinsically tied. Besal should be able to hear him.

Though he waited several long minutes and called out Besal’s name again, there was no other voice to answer his call.

He was alone.

The feeling was uncomfortably alien. That being alone with his thoughts was so strange was, perhaps, the most worrying of all.

That should have been a normal state of affairs. But after so long with Besal in the back of his head, Hal was used to not feeling quite so alone. Even when he said nothing, Hal could feel him back there.

There was nothing now.

In the infinite darkness, he would have been happy for the company. Any company at all would have been preferable to the interminable gloom.

“No,” he muttered. “They spoke of an abyss, this is some sort of test.”

“Very astute,” said a smooth baritone from the dark. “Think that all up yourself, did you?”

Hal looked around but, of course, couldn’t see the speaker. Clenching his fists caused his Kol’thil to light up once more, but even that illumination did nothing to part the gloom.

It did, however, allow Hal to see his own hands and feet at least.

“Who are you?” Hal asked.

“I’m the Mage you tried to discorporate.”

“The one that ranted and raved?”

“No, lad. I’m not that sniveling idiot, Renthor. My name is Feril Ironbound. I am come to aid you.”

“I thought you weren’t allowed to?” Hal asked. He set forward with a calm pace, picking a direction at random.

“I am certain I would not know a single thing about that. After all, you discorporated me before I even heard the case about you. I surely would not have heard any decree that you were to be left unaided, to wander the Abyss forevermore until you gained the exit through your own strength and cunning.”

Hal snorted a laugh. “You would help somebody who… what did you call it? Discorporated? You would help the person who did that to you?”

“It is a temporary state of affairs,” Feril said, his voice kept pace with him as if he were walking beside Hal the entire time. “You surprised me, and I always reward those who surprise me. We Irons are like that. We value strength and capability. Even if you didn’t have a clue what you were doing.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“In retrospect, perhaps. The others might not have seen the way you grasped at the simplest thread of possibility. That’s not typically a Gold trait, you act more like an Iron in that respect. Instinct, some would call it.

“That you didn’t understand what you were doing is neither here nor there. The Nobles would argue that, but you’ll hear no such concerns from Irons like myself. You saw an opportunity and seized it. That, and that alone, is why I heeded Hirst’s request to check in on you.

“But it is because I am intrigued by you that I will help you gain the exit. And I would appreciate it if you never spoke of this to another Mage.”

Hal shrugged. “If I never run into another Mage, it will be too soon.”

Feril chuckled. “You’re in for a world of disappointment then, lad. The Balesian Council has seen something in you. What that is precisely is yet to be seen. But I’ll tell you this: You haven’t seen the last of our Order. Not by a long shot.

“I don’t envy you in the least. Long has it been since the Balesians were roused from their slumber. Now you brought their collective gaze upon your soul. Great movers of men and magic, for centuries they lay without intrigue or change.

“Now you bring to them a great opportunity to jockey for strength and position. Before long, they’ll find ways to use you like a Sota piece to improve their own position within the order, or to lower another.”

“Sota?” Hal asked.

“That fell out of favor too?” Feril sighed. “Sota was the supreme game of the mind. Every political hopeful played it, every Mage mastered it. Masters of Sota could spend years moving their pieces upon the board about with no clear winner.”

There was a long pause, and though Hal couldn’t see Feril, he had the impression that the man was looking at him with pity.

“So much is now beyond,” Feril lamented. “The star was fair once, our magic encircled it like a girdle, but even deep within the Abyss, I can feel the age of the Worldshard. It was once undimmed by the pall that now hangs over this star. Our magicks wane.

“Its once-brilliant crystal-hewn heart flickers fitfully in the dark, a handsbreadth away from ruin. The world is old beyond its age, weary and gray.

“The thirteen great kingdoms lie broken. The forges of glorious Bethris are ashen-cold, no hammers ring from their workshops. No light of star, or sun, or silver moon shall ever shine out from the hallowed halls of Mithtir.

“The golden plate and silver blades of the fair and strong Faldorin knights lay tarnished and broken.” Feril heaved a great sigh. “Forgive me. I must seem like a sentimental fool to you to be rambling about a world you know nothing of.”

In truth, Hal was captivated by what Feril said. A world that existed as a pinnacle of magic and strength was the stuff of legend. Naturally, he would be deeply interested.

Even more so because it seemed he had some scant connection to this group, this awakened group of Mages. “You don’t,” Hal said, shaking his head though he wasn’t sure if Feril could see the motion. “The world sounded beautiful. I would have loved to see it at its height, not in its twilight years.”

“Mithtir is wrong about you,” he said softly. “You are no barbarian who stumbled upon a Kol’thil. I would show you the way out, I have had few to speak of the past glories to in recent centuries. Would you like to hear of the many-pillared halls of Mystora?”

There was something in Feril’s voice, a vulnerability that Hal could not ignore. Whether or not Hal wanted to hear about a world that was now forgotten by history - which he very much did - no longer mattered.

There was no denying that Feril was fond of the world long-since passed away. Hal felt, in a strange way, that it was his duty to bear the tales of those ancient lands. But more than anything, this was a way in which he could give back to Feril in thanks for helping him.

He didn’t have to, and Hal hadn’t expected any aid. But with Feril nearby, he felt comforted. Who was he to deny the man a walk through his memories of a world fair and bright?

“I would love to,” Hal said sincerely.

Where there was a somber loss in Feril’s tone before, now it was replaced by excitement, a fire rekindled.

As they walked, Feril guided Hal through the Abyss.

There were no markers, no points of reference. It was all complete black to Hal, and he had no idea how Feril navigated the lightless place.

Feril regaled Hal with tales of the lost thirteen kingdoms, their names given over to the thirteen Balesian Mages that had been the greatest of their age. Each Mage hailed from a different kingdom, and together they formed the Balesian Council of Mages

His guide’s name wasn’t Feril, but it was all that remained of the ancient kingdom the man had called home. Just as Mithtir was named for his home, and Hirst for hers.

Those names were all that remained of the Elden Days when the mountains were tall and green, the rivers sparkling and bright. Hal listened with rapt attention to each story until, all too soon, Feril stopped.

“Here, I am afraid my young lad, we must part ways,” Feril said.

Hal blinked rapidly as if coming out of a trance. He couldn’t see any difference in this particular area. “I don’t-” As he spoke, a line of golden light gently crested the distance like the dawning of the sun.

After so long in the dark, the brilliant light stung Hal’s eyes. “At least the dawn remains beautiful,” Feril said wistfully. Hal felt a strong hand on his shoulder. “For listening to an old man ramble about days long gone, take this with my thanks.”

A piercing pain shot through his shoulder. Just as Hal was about to cry out, it ceased. Wind blew against his cheeks, he shut his eyes against the brilliance of the rising sun, and stumbled out into the dawning of a new day.

137

The strength fled from his limbs, and suddenly Hal found the ancient pitted stones rising to greet him. Before they could crack into his face, a pair of strong hands caught him and lifted him. “I’ve got you,” Besal said softly.

Hoisting him up onto his shoulder, Besal fireman carried Hal into a nearby building and set him down against a crumbling wall.

“What happened to you?” Besal asked, his voice surprisingly gentle. There was something else there that he had never heard before. It took Hal several long moments to realize what it was.

It was awe.

“I was taken somewhere,” Hal said, his voice raspy and dry. “Dark. The Abyss, they called it.”

“By the Great Old Ones,” Besal swore. “No wonder I could not find you. Do you know how long you’ve been gone?”

A creeping fear crawled up his spine as he shook his head.

“You’ve been missing for three days, we’ve been looking for you this entire time. Me and the bug have been tearing up this city, but you were nowhere to be found. And then as if out of thin air, you appeared.

“If you were in the Abyss, then it all makes sense. The Abyss is the deepest, darkest pit. They put the beasts that cannot be killed within that pit, Hal. Things the powers-that-be never wish to see the light of creation again.”

Panic surged in his chest. Three days? Then the attack would fall that very night. And he was miles away from the Settlement.

As the wave of panic ebbed, it was replaced by guilt.

Guilt over his failure as a leader. As a friend to his companions who trusted in him to return in time.

He didn’t even complete his Quest.

Hal tried to push up to his feet, but he couldn’t find the strength. Besal turned his fiery-red gaze to the side a second before Hal heard the scuttling sound of the Rhino Beetle.

But the creature that ambled through the glaring brilliance of the doorway was unlike anything Hal remembered.

Towering piles of small chests, stacks of books, and collections of treasure were precariously balanced on the Rhino Beetle’s back. Somebody had constructed a shoddy covering with sticks and old tapestries to cover the beetle’s back.

The beetle lifted one leg and twisted it at an improbable angle to remove a sack from its pile of treasure. Besal reached out and grasped the offered sack, opened it, and took out a small vial.

Hal shook his head as Besal tried to offer it to him.

“You need this,” Besal said, a surprising amount of concern in his voice. “I cannot carry you back.”

He was telling the truth. Hal hadn’t noticed it at the time, but looking at Besal now he noticed the thinness of the man’s form. He was barely a shade now. The strong hands that had helped him up and delivered him into the building were faded and worn.

Venturing out into the bright sunlight had sapped a great deal of Besal’s strength. That, coupled with the lengthy absence from Hal’s side, had culminated in the shade standing before him.

That Besal would be tending Hal seemed the deepest of ironies. He found that he relied on Besal, trusted him without hint of suspicion.

Even more odd was the sensation of like mind that he felt from Besal. Something had changed in both of them, though Hal didn’t understand what at that moment, and he didn’t have time to ponder it.

His thoughts were on the Settlement.

He pushed aside his notifications, hardly alarmed to find many pending from the days he wandered in the Abyss without access to his magic or the System it seemed.

I should have asked Feril about that, I should have asked a lot of questions, he chided himself. But there was something about the Abyss, the way it warped time and space. It certainly didn’t feel like Feril had talked for 3 days.

Besal held out the potion with greater urgency. “I said you would get back to your friends. Do you mean to make me a liar?”

Once again, Hal shook his head and reached out to lay his hand atop Besal’s. He pushed the potion and the helping hand away. “Communion,” he rasped.

Besal looked at him as if he had just gone insane. And perhaps he had. There was something different about him, deep inside. He didn’t have the time to examine it in detail, but he was sure the Abyss had left its indelible mark.

“You barely withstood it last time,” Besal said. “Can you even stand?”

Digging deep within himself - he was beginning to understand the meaning of the ridiculous jock-phrase he once derided - Hal reached out and grasped Besal’s forearm. “I am not asking.”

Something shifted behind Besal’s crimson, fuming eyes.

Besal bowed his head in acquiescence and set down the potion bottle. Besal placed his free hand over Hal’s and shut his eyes. “Breathe,” he intoned. “Take the darkness within you, make it part of you. Feel the connection that burns between us.”

Hal closed his eyes as well and rested the back of his head against the cold stone wall. Besal’s words pulled Hal deep into darkness, but it was nothing like the first time.

He could see in that abyssal black.

A fuming, roiling mass of darkness draped illusory curtains of magic like a spider’s web. Hal saw it all before his eyes, the reality of the illusion just beneath.

Hal was not sent back to his old life, but mired in the now. The illusion brought him to the present, he realized. The darkness cast about, plucking memories of his friends, his allies, and the places he had been.

Every recent memory, save the ones from the Abyss.

The Settlement surrounded him. His friend’s faces turned to him in joy and victory. They were home. He could feel the insinuation worm its way into his mind, but it couldn’t stick. Nor could it remove the reality he knew to be true.

He could not forget the Abyss. The darkness that was deeper than anything this shade could produce. It dawned on him that he would have walked that pit forevermore without Feril’s guidance while his friends - his family - fought and died thinking he had abandoned them.

Looking at the farce playing out around him, he could see the roiling darkness’ intent. He dismissed it with a thought.

Reaching his hands out, Hal ripped at the curtains of illusion strung up around him. The darkness recoiled, but it didn’t realize its doom until Hal plunged his grasping, clawed hand into its fuming black heart.

“You cannot!” it cried.

Hal felt the darkness shrink before him. He felt oddly calm. Certain in his actions. Pulling the roiling mass closer, he said, “I have seen true darkness. You are not it. Release us.”

While Hal had shredded through his illusion, Besal was still trapped within his. Hal could see it as clearly as a stage filled with props, with Besal as the lead actor.

He was tempted with overwhelming power. Mockeries of Great Old Ones appeared to suggest that Besal could take control of his host. That they both would be better off for it, stronger.

That they were even trying to convince him was a marked change from Besal’s earlier selfishness, Hal realized. They were appealing to Besal’s new fondness for Hal instead of his contempt.

Offering to empower them both, to include Hal in the deal, suggested that Besal cared more for Hal than either of them were probably consciously aware. It hardly seemed like a competition for control over a single body anymore.

If anything, it was a partnership.

Hal had to admit, he was fascinated by what the darkness thought it could tempt Besal with. This wasn’t just a test for Hal, but both of them. Had Besal watched Hal struggle within his first trial as he now did to Besal?

He may have been content to watch and see how Besal dealt with the promises of everlasting power. They could no longer grant him immortality as Hal already had that, and by extension, so did Besal.

But when they began to torture Besal, when they caused him pain, Hal tightened his fist on the heart of the darkness. “Release him, or so help me….”

“I cannot!” the darkness cried, fear quaking through its previously judgmental voice. “The Dark Communion is sacrosanct!”

Hal released the cloud of black and strode away toward Besal as he thrashed and fought against the cruel lashes of his tormentors. Blades of darkness struck him, bloodied spears pulled back, and stabbed him again.

And still, Besal did not relent.

When Hal came upon him, he ripped the illusions with his bare hands. He shredded the tormentors. Their blades he broke, their spears were bent and blunted.

From the murk of Besal’s personal torment, it was Hal’s strong hands that pulled Besal to his feet and steadied him. The darkness swirled around them, clearly agitated.

Hal had expected - hoped for, really - the look of gratitude from Besal. But he did not expect the sudden embrace the man gave him. Like a long-lost brother, Besal wrapped his arms tightly around Hal’s back.

Without thinking, he returned the embrace in kind. Besal’s dark, wounded form slowly seeped into Hal’s until they were once more whole.

Power flowed through Hal’s weary limbs. He turned his own burning gaze toward the darkness, his eyes releasing fumes of sapphire light.

The darkness fled before him.

138

Class Quest Update: Dark Communion

Twice now, you have successfully completed your Dark Communion with Besal. Your Synchronization is all but complete. Even without the final Dark Communion, you are now capable of tapping into power previously withheld. Complete what you began.

Objectives

- Perform the final Dark Communion with Besal.

- Perform Communion of Antiquity (Completed).

- Perform Communion of Temporality (Completed.)

- Preserve Hal’s life.

- Preserve Besal’s life.

- Additional objectives available.

- Gain a Synchronization of 50% (Completed).

- Gain a Synchronization of 75% (Completed).

- Gain a Synchronization of 100%.

Rewards

- Enhanced Strain limit.

- Enhanced Beastborne abilities, spells, and skills.

- Access to Beastborne Zenith: Delirium.

- Additional rewards available.

- Essence Siphon Unlocked.

- Essence Tier +1.

Hal looked around, his eyes adjusting to the world around him. He was still in the building Besal had brought him to. The Rhino Beetle was rummaging about, carefully managing to scavenge materials and put them on its back.

The temporary surge of strength after combining with Besal left him stronger than he had been, but still weak. Hal leaned over and grabbed the potion Besal had tried to give to him before.

The liquid inside was not the typical red, but rather a shimmering purple. It was an [Elixir], and one of considerable quality by the looks of it.

He broke the wax seal and downed it in one go. The liquid inside burned his throat so badly he couldn’t even taste it. Before his coughing fit subsided, his flagging HP was recovered, as was his MP.

Leveling Up was a last resort. He needed a veritable mountain of EXP to Dominate as many monsters as possible to aid in the Settlement’s defense that night. If only he could get there in time.

Strength flowing once more, Hal dropped the empty bottle to the ground and stood up. He had to get back to the Settlement, but the journey would take at least a day, perhaps more.

He didn’t have days. As he stepped out into the brilliant light of late morning, he realized he had several hours at best. And only then if the Shiverglades waited until it was literally dark out before attacking.

And he still hadn’t finished the final Dark Communion.

When he tried to rouse Besal, there was no response. It was nothing like being in the Abyss. Besal was there, just asleep.

Or whatever it was magical beings did when they shut out the world around them.

Seeing that Hal was up, the Rhino Beetle obediently shuffled after him. Looking at him reminded Hal of an old video game character from his childhood. He smiled at the creature. “I think I’ve finally found a name that fits you,” he said.

The beetle looked up at him curiously.

“Beedle.”

If the Rhino Beetle liked it, he didn’t show it. Then again, if he hated it, he didn’t show that either. He simply took it as a matter of course.

Beedle shuffled up alongside Hal out into the light of the Ruins of Citra.

Hal looked over at Beedle and said, “We might as well get a move on.”

With Beedle’s help, Hal found the way out of the ruins. Where he had appeared from the Abyss was unfamiliar to him. Luckily, Beedle seemed to know the way out from all his scavenging alongside Besal.

Ever since he emerged from the Abyss, there was a dull ache in his chest right over his heart. At first, he had thought it was an injury from his fight with the Voidbolger.

But having healed himself back to full, the ache persisted.

Carefully rubbing the area showed no tenderness or increase in pain. He had no debuff that he could find, though he did have a series of notifications awaiting his attention.

He followed Beedle, with [Emissary] in hand, out of the Ruins of Cirta. Only once they were out of the ancient kingdom did Hal relax and allow himself to look at the prompts.

You defeat the [Voidbolger].

You defeat [Copper Mage Renthor].

You gain 20,000 Experience Point.

You earn 2,000 Sparks.

You gain a Copper Kol’thil.

Hal stopped walking, Beedle paused a few paces ahead and scuttled about to face Hal. Seeing that nothing was amiss, Beedle turned back to peer into the forest around them. The silver rings stuck in the trees glinted in the morning light like the sharpened edges of a dozen falling blades.

He couldn’t help but think of his friends, of his home, coming under attack without him there.

Pushing the dark thought from his mind, Hal unbuckled his [Shadow-Tempered Bracers] and rolled up his sleeve to reveal his mark. What he once thought was a Founder’s Mark, but in truth was something much older.

His Kol’thil shone golden as it always had on the inside of his left forearm. The moonlit mark of the Manatree stood out at its center. But now there was another, smaller mark of copper hue at the edge nearest his wrist.

Would you like to absorb the Copper Kol’thil?

Nodding his answer, Hal felt a surge of white-hot pain streak up his forearm as the copper Kol’thil began to glow brighter and brighter.

Warning: Your Gold Kol’thil is of insufficient rank to absorb the Copper Kol’thil with all of its Sigils intact. If you wish to continue, you will lose 13 Sigils.

Clamping a hand over the burning Kol’thil, he stopped the process. Trying to understand what just happened, he tried to pry into each of the Kol’thils.

Golden Kol’thil (Manatree Marked): Rank 0.

Copper Kol’thil (Renthor): Rank 42.

So his Kol’thil is a lot stronger than mine, that much is obvious. How do I even increase its rank?

Hal waited a moment, hoping the System would illuminate it for him, but nothing happened. He sighed deeply, shook his head, and buckled his bracer once more.

You are afflicted with Kol’thil Bleed.

Through unnatural means, you have gained another Kol’thil, but you lack the strength to possess it wholly. A foreign Kol’thil acts as a leech upon the body, siphoning vital resources to keep itself operational.

You can reject the Kol’thil, or continue its absorption with the loss of its Sigils. In either case, the Sigils and knowledge of its previous owner will be lost. Should you bear the affliction, both Sigil and knowledge will become available to you as your own Kol’thil grows in strength.

And I do that, how?

Once again, the System did not deign to answer him.

Perhaps that was the ache he felt in his chest. He did feel a little weaker. But if Renthor’s Kol’thil was draining him of HP, it was so slight his natural regeneration made it a non-issue.

It was just another thing to deal with.

They left the strange silver hoops behind, but not before Beedle snagged one with his long horn. Hal helped him to place it atop his pile of treasures, unsure how he was going to carry Beedle and cross the water to the north.

He combed through the rest of his notifications as they weaved through the trees, retracing their steps. Not an easy task with the forest actively regrowing so quickly that signs of their passage were all but invisible to Hal’s eyes.

Though his Perception wasn’t poor, his Survival was. But thankfully, Beedle once again seemed to know the way. And if the little Rhino Beetle ever got lost, Hal pointed it in the general direction of the Settlement.

He knew where the Manaseed was at all times, even from this distance. He could navigate there blindfolded, but he had no way of knowing if there would be a mountain or impassable stretch of water in his way. His other problem was getting there in time to help defend his home.

Your Improvised Weaponry Skill has risen to Level 18.

Your Improvised Weaponry Skill has risen to Level 19.

+2% Improvised Weapon damage (+38%).

+2% Improvised Weapon attack speed (+38%).

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 24.

Your Sword Skill has risen to Level 25.

+1% Sword damage (+25%).

-0.25% Sword durability loss (-6.25%).

+5% Armor penetration (+25%).

Your Evasion Skill has risen to Level 18.

…

Your Evasion Skill has risen to Level 21.

+1% Evasion speed (+21%).

-1% Stamina cost (-21%).

+2% Time decay (+10%).

You have 1 Evasion Perk point awaiting assignment.

Patient Offense 1/1

Each successive evasion of an enemy’s attack increases the damage of your next attack by 10%. Resets if hit.

Second Wind 0/1

Prerequisite: Patient Offense

Each stack of Patient Offense can be consumed, converting it into 1% HP.

Leaf on the Wind 0/1

While wearing Armor, +10% Evasion chance. While Unarmored, +20% Evasion chance.

Light as a Feather 0/1

Reduce falling damage by half.

Light as a Feather actually seemed to have some use now that there were places he could conceivably fall from with a purpose. While breaking his shins to make it down a mountain or cliff faster wasn’t ideal, it might allow him to save a friend’s life.

Then again, Leaf on the Wind and Second Wind both seemed quite useful.

Leaf on the Wind would help him to rack up those stacks of Patient Offense, as well as keeping him on his feet. But Second Wind could literally heal him.

Granted, 1% HP wasn’t much on its own. However, if he focused on dodging, he could get a few stacks pretty quickly. And instead of needing to hit his opponent to utilize Patient Offense, he could use Second Wind to heal himself without ever being near them.

Confirming his selection, Hal picked Second Wind as his Evasion perk.

139

Hal wasn’t conceited enough to think that he alone could turn the tide of battle. But he had allowed himself to - at least partly - believe that he could return with his Dark Communion Quest completed.

With greater power, he might have helped to repel their attackers. And with the gained EXP, he could use Dominate to devastating effect.

Provided, of course, that these things weren’t protected as that Voidbolger was.

Until that point, Hal had never seen a Sigil fail. Nor had he thought there was anybody but another Founder that had them.

That they were something older and more powerful than even he had been led to believe was still doing a number on his head.

It was all too much.

Rather than dwell on something he could do nothing about, something he could learn no more about on his own out in the wilds, Hal turned his focus back to his perks.

Your Beast Magic has risen to Level 30.

+3% Beast Magic potency (+90%).

-2% MP cost (-12%).

You have 1 Beast Magic Perk point awaiting assignment.

Your Convergence has risen to Tier II.

Fine-grained control of stat allocation allowed.

Azure Fate 1/1

Embark upon the Azure Path, trading raw strength for greater control and efficiency.

Azure Lore 0/1

Reach into the very depths of Beast Magic, forming a sympathetic bond with your adversary. By touching a monster, you are able to understand your quarry that much better. Its weaknesses and fears, its strengths, and most importantly what it’ll do before it does it. Defeating multiple enemies from the same Monster Family confers unique bonuses against that family.

Empty Vessel 1/1

Each Beastborne is unique. Those that follow the Azure path accept the risk of Strain but are not without the tools to handle the dangerous influx of corrupting magic. Once per day, you can focus on the way your body was before becoming a Beastborne. Holding that image, you purge all Strain from yourself, becoming an empty vessel once more.

Convergence 1/5

Prerequisites: Lv.10 Beast Magic, Lv.10 Beastborne, Azure Fate, Deep Magic.

As a Beastborne, you are able to alter the most fundamental aspects of yourself. By refining your Beastborne-given powers, you are able to influence your body through your mental prowess. While channeling essence, INT and CHR can be partially utilized as modifiers to your melee damage and bodily prowess. Higher tiers allow you to tap a greater portion of INT and CHR.

Lv.1: 15% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Lv.2: 25% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Lv.3: 35% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Lv.4: 45% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Lv.5: 60% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Predator’s Insight 0/3

Prerequisites: Empty Vessel.

Increased chance to learn Beast Magic from targets by 25%. If the chance is already 100%, adds a chance to learn additional spell(s). Influenced by INT.

Sheep’s Clothing 0/1

Prerequisites: Azure Lore.

Utilizing the adaptive nature of Beast Magic, you are able to shroud yourself in the magical essence of a given monster. To most creatures, you appear as that type of monster and they will treat you as such.

Ruby Stars 0/1

Take your first step among the red-shifted stars of a dying universe, basking in the unfettered strength of the Elders.

Considering how much of a game-changer Convergence was, and its recent increase to tier 2, he would have to be braindead not to further boost the perk.

While the rest could all be useful, Convergence was a consistent tool in his arsenal that was too powerful not to take all the way to the maximum Level as soon as possible.

Your Enfeebling Magic has risen to Level 21.

+1% Enfeebling success (+21%).

+2% Enfeebling duration (+42%).

Your Manatree Skill has risen to Level 10.

+3% Manatree Spell Potency (+30%).

You have 1 Manatree Perk point awaiting assignment.

Conservation 0/5

Reduce the MP cost of Manatree spells by improving the accuracy of your mana manipulation and cutting out inefficient somatic elements.

Lv.1: -5% Mana cost.

Lv.2: -7% Mana cost.

Lv.3: -10% Mana cost.

Lv.4: -15% Mana cost.

Lv.5: -25% Mana cost.

Thaumaturgic Focus 0/5

By focusing on the saturation of mana within the influence of a Manatree spell, you are capable of empowering your spells further with the aid of the saturated mana around you.

Lv.1: +5% Spell damage | +5% Spell effect strength.

Lv.2: +5% Spell damage | +10% Spell effect strength.

Lv.3: +10% Spell damage | +10% Spell effect strength.

Lv.4: +10% Spell damage | +20% Spell effect strength.

Lv.5: +20% Spell damage | +20% Spell effect strength.

Arcana Siphon 0/1

The spheres of influence granted by Manatree spells change the very warp and weft of the mana caught within. By subtly altering the make-up of your Manatree spells, you can capture part of the MP expended within to replenish your stores.

Stepping around a boulder tumble covered with mossy roots from nearby toppled trees, Hal mulled over his options.

Each of the Manatree perks seemed powerful in their own right.

Manatree spells were likely going to continue to cost more and more. He only had a single spell to compare against, but the perks provided hinted at the future.

The power of their effects was such that they required a surfeit of mana to enact them. Slowing down a group of creatures within a 30-foot radius was no small task.

Even if the slow-down was something minimal, like 5%, it was enough to steal an advantage from an enemy.

That was the reason Hal was worried about getting back to the Settlement. With Manatorpor, his command of the Manatree’s abilities, and his use of Dominate, he could be a great aid to the Settlement’s defense.

Instead, he was traipsing about in the Shiverglades, trying to find his way back before the attack started. Something that all logic told him he would never be able to do even if he traveled all night.

That wouldn’t stop him from trying. Arriving late was better than not arriving at all.

Without the final Dark Communion being able to take place, he would be weaker than he set out to be. Though he did have a large store of EXP to make use of his properly renamed Kol’thil Sigils, he was hoping for more.

To that end, he needed to look to the rigors of extended warfare.

The Guild Mission explicitly said to survive the night. Which meant a protracted battle. Every fight he had been in so far was measured in seconds or minutes, not hours.

In service of that, he picked up Arcana Siphon. With liberal use of Manatorpor, Arcana Siphon would help to recoup some of the lost MP. It would surely be better than a one-off MP reduction.

He held out some hope that the keinse were around, but he heard nothing as Beedle paused on the next sloping rise. The trees thinned enough to give Hal a good view of the land to the north.

What Hal originally took for a small clearing was actually a cliff. The land fell away a few feet in front of where Beedle stood with his various knickknacks strewn about his carapace like the pack mule of a treasure hunter.

They had gone too far west.

Without the keinse to guide him, and with a pitiful Survival skill to boot, Hal had entrusted his guidance to Beedle. And while the creature kept them roughly in the direction they needed to go, it wasn’t precise enough.

Hal could clearly see the brackish water, its wind-ruffled surface glinting in the late morning sun.

Luckily, the fire he had set was still burning. Unfortunate for the forest, but lucky for him as he now had a good point of reference.

Once he was across the water, it would be easy enough to see the pillar of black smoke even through the thicker canopies.

The only problem was getting there.

The ice floes that littered the black waters of the southern Shiverglades were blinding in their brilliance, but he could just make them out if he shaded his eyes against the glare.

Still, at more than a hundred feet below, and with no easy way to get down the sheer cliff face, it would be a while until he could even think about crossing them.

Worse, he wouldn’t get such a good vantage point once he was on the same level as the water.

Hal burned the image before him into his mind. The position of the larger ice floes and the distant shoreline closest to the pillar of smoke, most importantly.

He took a few long strides back away from the edge, making sure he was Splicing aberration essence. “At least nobody’s here this time to see this,” he said as he started to form a parachute from his aberration essence.

As his intention became clear to Beedle, thin gossamer wings unfurled from somewhere beneath the beetle’s stacks of loot. They began to beat the air furiously in a harsh buzz.

Before Hal could say anything, Beedle was already airborne and coasting easily over the ledge.

The only thought that was in Hal’s mind as he sprinted and leaped out over the hundred-plus foot empty air was not a comforting one, How high up do I need to be to survive a parachute fall?

140

Three days ago.

Noth rubbed her temples as one of the dwarves stomped away in a huff. He wasn’t happy with the way Noth had handled his issue.

That she had given him a black eye for shaking his fist at her might have been a touch overkill. But she was on edge. Boco was still hurt, though at least the karak was going to make a full recovery.

They never found the morbolger nest that they went looking for and to top it all off Hal had given her control of the Settlement until he returned from his Class Quest.

She wanted to make him proud. It was obvious how much of a strain managing a Guild, and a Settlement had on the man. If she could let him have this time to focus on himself, she would put up with a dozen more surly dwarves.

It pained her that she couldn’t go to him. That she couldn’t help him.

“Trust in him,” Ashera said, bringing two steaming mugs of mulled wine over. “Do not look at me like that. I can see the way you worry about him. He trusted you to get all this done, did he not?”

Noth took the offered cup and curled her fingers around the clay mug. Its heat warmed her chilled fingers. She took a moment to inhale the warm, spiced aroma. When she opened her eyes, she said, “He did.”

“Then trust in him as he trusted you.” Ashera pulled up a seat alongside her and turned to look out the window of the Recreation Building. She watched the blonde-haired dwarf walk down the hill and out of sight, headed not to the south toward the growing wall, but to the north.

Ashera raised her brow at that, turning her gaze to Noth.

“We need stone,” she said with a helpless shrug. “The construction of the Earthen Walls and Palisades are continuing apace. Hal wanted to have a Quarry built if there were enough workers to finish the walls in time.”

“Did he say why?”

Noth shook her head, her black curls bounced along her shoulders and draped over the back of her armor. “Not really. Communicating through the keinse is not an easy feat. All he said was that he was, ‘looking toward the future’ for all that means.”

“Does he think there will be another attack?”

“I don’t think he knows,” Noth answered truthfully. “But I think he believes it would be best to prepare for the eventuality. Why else would he want to have production buildings made when we could have all hands working on the wall?

“The dwarves take the defense of the Settlement very seriously you know. Not a single one of them is taking the request to help with the Quarry or the Lumberjack’s Hut very well. They think I’m trying to strip away their pride or something.”

Ashera took a sip of her mulled wine, her soft green eyes reminded Noth of the southern seas on Herstadt. A ruthless Worldshard whose few landmasses rose and fell with the massive tides that ruled the world.

In a single day, Noth had Reaped half a million souls who thought to make a permanent settlement on some unnamed shore just because it had remained dry for a century.

“Yes, I can see that. Did you have to give him that black eye?”

“I didn’t have to,” Noth said. “I got to. I don’t have the sway with the Boulderguts that Hal has. Nor the Leadership, and probably not the Charisma either.”

“What is yours at?” Ashera asked, then she put a hand over her mouth. “I am sorry. I did not mean to be so presumptuous! My curiosity got the better of me.”

Noth waved away her concern with a flapping hand. “It’s fine, Ashera, really. My Charisma is only at six. It seemed fitting. I’m not liable to stick my leg in my mouth, but I am also not very good with other people.”

“Foot,” Ashera said helpfully. When Noth only gave her a blank stare, she added, “The expression is, ‘stick my foot in my mouth,’ not leg.”

At one point not too long ago, Noth would have blushed fiercely or flown into a rage. But she was used to making such common slips. Especially now that she was trying very hard to use colloquialisms that she had heard.

Ashera was just being helpful, so Noth nodded her thanks and left it at that.

“Perhaps I should rotate them out once the Quarry is operational,” Noth mused aloud.

“Rotate them out where, exactly?” Ashera asked, turning her attention back to the window. It was a lovely view of the rolling hills at the heart of the Settlement.

“I was thinking of making a stair up to the high ridges that sweep out to encase the valley’s entrance. From up there, if it was adequately staffed, we could probably have some form of defense to rain down on the gap.

“After all, the gap is quite large. With a few towers or even some level platforms and defenses in place, we could do a lot of damage before an attacking force ever came close.” Noth caught the strange look Ashera was giving her. She hunched her shoulders defensively as she added, “Hal did say that if I saw a way to improve our defenses to do so.”

“You seem to have everything well in hand,” Ashera congratulated, raising her mug in salute. That caught Noth off-guard. She must have made a face because Ashera laughed and gently laid her hand on Noth’s arm. “You are doing fine, Noth. You worry too much.”

She tried to accept the compliment, but she still had her doubts. She wasn’t a leader. Her role had always been to take the leaders, the fighters, the noble warriors that died in defense of their home.

Not once had she ever given thought to how they could have been spared from their end.

And now she was frantically scrambling to search her fading memories. They weren’t gone, but they were fuzzy around the edges. Crystal-clear images were a rarity.

Unfortunately, throughout every memory, she could find little to aid her. Most of her memories were focused on the souls in question and not the moments leading up to their deaths.

As a Reaper, she was often called moments before the calamitous end arrived. It afforded them an understanding of mortality, or so they were told. Mostly, Reapers waited until the moment the soul was sheared from its mortal coil.

It was less time spent on the mortal planes, something few Reapers enjoyed.

Now she was cursing her indolence.

One of the few fragmented memories she had was of a failed siege against a powerful force. The layout was similar to what their Settlement had - large towering walls and an entryway through which all attackers would be funneled.

She doubted whatever force that came against them would have siege engines, ladder towers, or catapults. But the tactics of that long-dead force gave her an idea.

Noth stood up from the table suddenly. Ashera looked up at her, a bit alarmed at the sudden motion. “Are you well?” she asked.

“I have an idea that needs a dwarf’s input,” she said. “Hal said I should trust you to help me, will you?”

After all the bodies Ashera put in the ground, the aura of death was still appallingly strong around her. So much so, that even with her severely reduced senses, Noth could detect it.

It was ironic that she was now in a position to trust somebody she knew could unequivocably not be trusted. And yet, she felt that Ashera was trustworthy somehow. How many of her victims had that same last thought?

Hal trusted her, so Noth could at least appear to do the same. It would make it easier to keep an eye on her if she was close by. Throughout the entire trip, Ashera had given her no cause to doubt her dedication to the group, but she couldn’t just ignore her past.

But if Ashera was making an effort to no longer be defined by the person she once was, Noth wasn’t going to stand in her way.

Ashera blinked a bit too much, but that was as good as a sharp gasp from the reserved lamora. “He said that?” She stood a bit taller. “What do you need?”

“I need a dwarf that isn’t one of the few I’ve already had to talk to, preferably somebody that would have a good deal of mining knowledge. Hal knows all the dwarves by name it seems, but I can hardly keep them straight.

“They’re kind enough, and I enjoy spending time with them - when I do not have to order them to do something they don’t want to do - but aside from a handful, I don’t know many that well.”

“And you need ones that are proficient in mining, why?”

“I have an idea,” Noth said with a grin. “One that will, hopefully, break two stones with a single bird.”

Ashera stifled a laugh but didn’t say anything. Noth was too distracted, trying to remember the details of that long-ago memory to care. “I can make some inquiries, would you like them to come meet you here?”

“Please.”

“Very well,” Ashera said, getting up from the table. “One dwarf, specializing in mining, coming up.”

Noth sipped her mulled wine, relishing the warmth and the spices that made her feel all cozy inside. Chief among her favorite things about being a mortal was the small comforts of the flesh. A warm fire on a cold day. Pleasant drink and food. And good company.

That last thought pulled her thoughts back to Hal and wherever he was. Her chest ached when she thought about him, though she didn’t understand the meaning of it. Sometimes her stomach hurt or felt like it was fluttering when he looked at her.

Noth sipped her mulled wine and stared out the window, hoping that Hal was okay.

141

The fact that several hours later, Noth wasn’t rubbing her temples to soothe the constant stress was nothing short of a miracle.

Hours of talking to the square-shaped dwarf renowned as the best Delver of the Bouldergut Clan and nobody had a black eye.

In truth, things were going better than Noth ever thought they could have.

Bardan Burlybrawn, her newest dwarf friend, stepped back from the eastern cliff face within the gap. He dusted his hands free of the chalk he had just used to mark out a rough outline of a tunnel.

“If ye be wanting to get that stone back, yer looking at a slower job. But gimme four or five dwarfs and I’ll make yer tunnels. Get me double that, and I’ll make ye one complex on each side,” Bardan said, meaty hands readjusting his wide leather girdle set with gemstones.

As far as Noth was considered, Bardan was exactly what she was looking for. She gave Ashera, standing off to her right, a thankful nod.

She hardly cared how Ashera managed to find him, but she was beyond grateful.

“I can do that,” she said with a grin.

“Oh, aye?” Bardan said. His ginger beard was more gray than red, but he still had that spark of life in his green eyes. “I was hearing some of the lads griping and moaning about being put on quarrying du- Ah… I see what yer fer. Braw work lass!

“That’s why ye asked me about taking the stone then, eh? Aye, I see where yer going with this. Killing two goblins with a single rock, I like it! Ye get me them boys, and I’ll do ye proud.”

Your Leadership has risen to Level 3.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 4.

+1% Party damage (+4%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+8%).

“I’ll make sure it’s done,” she said with a nod of her head. “Do you think you’ll be able to make it all the way up to the top in three days?”

“Oh, aye. Ain’t gotta go all the way up, just far enough outta reach.” Bardan pointed toward a small shelf about 50 feet up in the air. “The stone’s telling me ears that’s where we’ll wanna be coming out. But we’ll get up to the top o’ the ridge if ye like. Fifty feet of stonecutting is nothing fer a dwarf. Less than nothing fer a Delver like meself!”

“What precisely is a Delver?” Noth asked.

“Ye be knowing what a Miner is?” Bardan asked, one bushy gray-red eyebrow quirked up.

“I do.”

“A Miner’s a wee baby compared to a Delver,” Bardan said with a belly-laugh, though Noth didn’t get the joke. She chalked it up to dwarven sensibilities and calmly waited for him to continue. “Ye see, dwarfs, we got a connection to the stone, lass.

“Some o’ us feel it stronger than others. Legends used to say that there were those o’ us what could talk to stone. Ain’t nothing so grand as that, being a Delver, but it’s right close! Me tools can cut the hardest stone, and this here cliff’s got good stone for building but it ain’t too hard.

“Let me get set up and I’ll show ye just how fast I can carve ye a tunnel. All while salvaging all the blocks I can fer ye to use. Good thinking on that. We’ll use the stones to build the stairs and the defenses. Waste not, want not me dad’s always said!”

“Could you teach others to become a Delver?” Noth asked, more out of curiosity than for any specific reason.

Your Persuasion has risen to Level 3.

+1% Persuasion success (+3%).

+0.5% Antagonistic persuasion success (+1.5%).

Bardan turned back toward her, a twinkling light in his eyes. “Aye, if they got their Miner up to at least Level 15, I sure could.”

Noth filed that information away for later. More Delvers definitely seemed like an excellent idea to her. By having the dwarves excavate the stone while they made the tunnels, she could pull all the dwarves that were angry at her off Quarry duty.

In one fell swoop, she could boost morale by letting the reassigned dwarves continue to work on the defenses of the Settlement while also Quarrying. Neither would be as fast as a wholly dedicated force, but that was fine.

Hal didn’t say anything about expressly needing the stone by a certain time. Noth was certain that the cunningly worked tunnels and pathways she was having Bardan and his crews make would help with the coming battle. If not for the one after.

The memory of that overwhelming defending force came back to her in full then. At the time she hadn’t cared, but looking back, she was impressed at their ingenuity and craftiness.

Noth was determined for her memories to serve in defense of her new burgeoning kingdom. And while she didn’t allow herself much idleness to fantasize, she rather liked the thought of being Queen to Hal’s King.

Try as she might, she couldn’t quite shake that old conversation from her mind. The one she had with Hal, when he had explained the kind of Queen he wanted. Somebody who would dive into a dungeon headlong with him rather than sit in a palace.

With a farewell to Bardan, Noth turned and gathered up Ashera in her wake. “I know at least half of the reassigned dwarves are likely in the Town Hall, could you tell them to meet me at the gap? I’ll be there shortly.”

“Of course,” Ashera said as she broke off toward Town Hall.

Noth would never be that sort of woman. She had no desire to sit in a palace, or attend balls. Her place was at Hal’s side, out in the wilds. It hurt more than she wanted to admit that she had to stay here while he was out there alone.

Turning her attention northward, she picked up her pace until her eyes fell upon a pool of shadowy darkness 10 feet to her left. Looking around to make sure nobody was watching her, Noth walked into the dark shade of a nearby rise of stone.

The Settlement valley was full of varying elevations, often terraced in a way that seemed manmade. At one such area, the sun was angled high and away from the stone, setting the rocky ground in black shadow.

It was enough for her purposes.

One last look around to make sure she wasn’t seen, Noth walked into the shadow and crouched down like a little girl playing hide-and-seek.

To anybody who may have been watching her, she would have seemed to simply vanish into the darkness.

Noth called upon a natural talent of hers, something that belonged to neither her Reaper past nor her new Dark Knight Fabled Class. Shadow Plunge made her one with the shadow at her feet, and she stood up nearly a quarter-mile to the north, not too far from the Manaseed’s glade.

It cost an outrageous amount of MP. A grand total of 307 for the distance she just took. With only 355 MP to her name, it wasn’t an ability she could call on regularly.

Resisting the urge to go to the Manaseed, she turned toward the location the Rangers had spotted as a potential Quarry. Not all of the dwarves would be there. Perhaps none of them would be if they didn’t take her seriously.

“We shall see,” she muttered under her breath.

The sharp report of hammers on stone told her that at least some of the dwarves had heeded her order.

In fact, as she came through the thinning tree line, she saw that she had been wrong to send Ashera to the Town Hall. Every dwarf she had asked to come out to the Quarry site was there.

For all their grumbling and groaning, they had done precisely as she asked.

It warmed her heart to see them all there, setting up the supports and testing the stone for the ideal location. One of the dwarves spotted her and waved to her good-naturedly.

There was no arguing or aggression. And then she remembered one of the most basic tenets of being a dwarf. Having a purpose trumped all.

Of course, not all of them felt like that. But she had Reaped enough dwarves to understand that their purpose in life - beyond fealty to King and Clan - was the most important thing to them.

Having work to do, a task to get done, always seemed to cheer the ruddy-nosed folk. How could she forget something so simple and basic?

Was it because she saw their disgruntled looks and took them to be adversaries instead of people that just wanted to feel useful? Obviously, they weren’t happy where they were.

There was no greater purpose than defending one’s home, after all. And so they had groused and groaned when she ordered them to construct the Quarry and run it.

Now she could confidently say that she had managed to find a compromise. They could feel useful, and Noth would be following Hal’s wishes.

As well as things had gone, she couldn’t wait until Hal returned tomorrow. Being a leader was exhausting.

142

“Ain’t this a fine keg in the commode,” Durvin grumbled, looking at the pair of dwarfs, Fillin and Killis. “Durned Busterbacks!” He kicked one of the brothers, he could never tell them apart. Then, for good measure, he kicked the other.

“Wa-hey!” one of them cried. “Ye don’t have to be- Me ki- I mean, Durvin! Hullo!”

The lad smarted up, right quick. That told Durvin he was talking to Killis. For all the brothers looked alike, Fillin was dumber than a sack of goblin heads.

“Ye was working through the night, eh?” Durvin said, hands curled into fists and planted on his stout hips.

Killis got the hint and jumped up, dragging his half-asleep brother to his feet. Tomorrow night was the Big Event, as Durvin thought of it. When the Shiverglades would send its forces out at the fledgling kingdom.

There was still no sign of Hal.

Durvin had offered Noth to go out and look for him. The wall was all but completed. Even in the wee early hour’s dwarfs were rushing about stocking the walls with weaponry and supplies in preparation for the siege.

The Boulderguts were no beardless novices to warfare. They had broken more attacker’s teeth on their stout walls and iron wills more time than the grizzled older dwarf patron could count.

And they would do it again.

Not because they had to, but because of their love for this strange new place and the man - aye, the man - that had brought them there. Hal was a lot of frustrating things, but a disappointment was never one of them.

Durvin tapped his heavy boot on the stones the brothers had been sleeping on. “I catch either o’ ye sleepin’ again, I’m going to have words with Athagan. Ye be wantin’ that, do ye?”

Even dim Fillin’s eyes bolted open, and the pair stumbled over each other, trying to rush back into the tunnel they should have been working on.

With a sigh that sounded a lot like a pair of stones being ground to dust, Durvin turned away from the shelf of leveled stone on the western end of the gap.

The air was chill and damp. Faint bits of frost clung to the crannies and cracks in the unworked stone around him. Bardan had done fine work in such a short time.

Metal rasped against stone, drawing Durvin’s attention to his boot. He stooped down and picked up the pickaxe. Turning toward the tunnel the twins had disappeared into, Durvin waited patiently while smacking the smooth haft of the pickaxe into his other empty hand.

Fillin poked his shaggy head out, ducked his head in reverence to Durvin, and took the proferred tool. “Me thanks,” he muttered before he dove back into the dark.

The ring of pick against stone was sweet music to Durvin’s ears. For too long his clan had been at the beck and call of the High Gauntlet, the five dwarven Clans that ruled the Anvil. They were the true power beneath the Iron King.

Everything the Boulderguts had, Durvin had clawed from their greedy little fingers. And it was never enough. They always wanted more to be made from less.

Crossing his burly arms over his chest, Durvin surveyed the defenses from on high. He could easily envision the waves of monsters breaking like black water against the fortifications. But they weren’t stone, and he knew they would fail eventually.

Given time and plenty of stone, Durvin’s craftsmen could work wonders but they were not gods. No dwarf, excepting of course the great Mornhammer himself, could make a lasting wall out of dirt and a bit of wood.

Still, he was a dwarf. And so Durvin could not help but see the potential that lay before him. Like a painter gazing upon a blank canvas, Durvin envisioned a massive barbican taking up the entire gap. Inside would be filled with cunning dwarf traps, secret entrances, and barracks.

He spotted Noth’s dark armor easily, even in the deep shadows of the gap. She hadn’t been there a moment ago. That lass had a way of popping out where you least expected her.

Maybe she had some Delver blood in her.

She hadn’t let him go out in search of Hal. She wanted him to trust him.

Trust had nothing to do with it. Durvin was well aware that Hal wasn’t of this world. He didn’t understand the dangers, and even if he did, he was far from equipped to handle them on his own.

As much as the surly dwarf tried to deny it, a large part of his stony heart was given over to worry for the lad. He, and much of his clan, had come to care deeply for the boy.

If they hadn’t, they would have pulled up stakes and left already.

Durvin wasn’t sure if he could convince them to do so, even if he was of the mind to try. Not that he was stupid enough to try.

“Thought I’d find ye out here, me King,” said Bardan, emerging from the tunnel.

“Lay off with that, eh?” Durvin groused. “Ye seen yer handiwork?”

“Aye, the lads do good work. Me thinks that the dark-haired lass thinks like a dwarf,” Bardan said with a pearly grin beneath his graying beard.

“Aye, she sees beyond the knees,” Durvin said. It was often that humans, and many of the taller races mocked the dwarfs for their short stature.

It hardly bothered the stout folk, but it was amazing to them how short-sighted most races were.

And so the phrase, “seeing beyond the knees” was a compliment from one dwarf to another. It meant that while the other races were looking into the faces of the fellows, dwarfs could see through their legs to the future ahead.

Even the long-lived elfs had a way of looking only at the present, rarely the future.

A dwarf labored all the centuries of their life for a dream they would never see completed. A home they would never experience, for safety their grandchildren might know if they lived long enough.

That was what it meant to be a dwarf.

“I reckon she and the lad have that in common,” Durvin said.

“Ye thinkin’ he’s to be coming back?”

“A horde o’ hungry morbolgers wouldn’t stop that boy from defending his home,” Durvin said with utmost confidence. “He’s like to be late, but I ain’t fer doubting him. He’ll be here.”

“Jerky?” Bardan asked, handing a wrinkled strip to Durvin.

“Aye.”

Durvin chewed with powerful jaw muscles, shredding the tough and flavorless jerky. He chewed some more for good measure and turned to stare at his friend. A mentor well beyond his own years in the days when Clan Bouldergut went by another name.

Before his father’s fall from grace.

He saw the dawning realization lighten Bardan’s green eyes as he chewed on the same strip of jerky. Durvin took a long swallow, forcing the lump past his throat.

“Bardan,” Durvin said calmly. Too calmly.

“Aye?” Bardan mumbled around a mouthful.

“That weren’t jerky.”

“I reckon yer right,” Bardan said, leaning over to spit out the strip of leather he had split for them both instead of jerky.

“Bardan. Ye finish that ‘jerky’.”

The older dwarf slowly turned to Durvin and nodded, chewing with extra effort to break down the tough strip of hide. He took a painful swallow and then joined Durvin in pulling out a hip flask of hard liquor.

They both took a long draw on their respective flasks before capping them and putting them away.

“Gonna have a few more rocks for the pile afore lunchtime,” Bardan joked, nudging Durvin in the ribs.

“Aye,” Durvin agreed. “See to it that yer boys don’t be trying to build a wall outta it, eh?”

The two older dwarfs shared a laugh at that ridiculous notion.

Eventually, a solemn silence lapsed between the old friends. That was until Bardan spoke up. “Ye ever going to tell the lad yer true name?”

“Ain’t no other name fer me,” Durvin answered. “I’m a Bouldergut now through and through. Wouldn’t take back me sire’s name if it came with a whiskery kiss from the Anvil Gem herself!”

Bardan nodded. “We’ll make ye proud, me King.” He turned to leave as he spoke, but Durvin caught him on the shoulder.

The older dwarf looked back at Durvin curiously. “Ye make yerselves proud,” he said. “I ain’t fer rulin’ like them soft-handed, beard-trimming, shale-spined lot!”

A glint of the inner fire Durvin had always looked up to in old Bardan flickered to life. “We’ll do just that.”

Durvin watched the older dwarf stalk back into the tunnels, his spine straighter than he’d ever seen it before.

Your Leadership has risen to Level 78.

+1% Clan damage (+78%).

+2% Clan capacity (+156%).

Your Royalty Skill has risen to Level 33.

+0.85% Warcrown effect (+28.05%).

+0.65% Influence range increase (+21.45%).

+0.5% Statesman effect (+16.5%)

Clan Bouldergut Reputation: +1,200 (Beloved King-in-Exile).

Your reputation is already at the highest tier and can go no higher.

You gain 1,398 Experience Points (+16.5%).

You earn 179 Sparks (+28.05%).

Durvin turned back to the growing light to the south of the kingdom. Hal was out there somewhere. “Ye get yerself back here, lad. Yer people be needin’ ye.”

143

Mira sat cross-legged with her new spear balanced across her knees. She breathed in then breathed out, counting each exhalation and allowing nothing else to cloud her mind.

She couldn’t feel her aether, not in the same way as she would back home. Even if she could, she supposed it would be called mana here.

The thought popped through her head, and she let it fall away. A dozen other small thoughts that had been bothering and distracting her for a while now bubbled up to the surface.

Like foul swamp gas, she let them burst free and was glad to be rid of them.

Despite being on an entirely different Worldshard, her mana began to churn and flow through the various channels in her body. It was a familiar, comforting sensation. One she had gone entirely too long without.

“It would seem, my dear, that they have finished the wall,” rumbled the smooth, posh tones of her host. “Will you be joining them in defense of your new home?”

Mira popped open one eye to regard Orrittam. “What kind of florking question is that?”

The golden dragon studied her curiously. “Gaining back some of your powers will not allow you to subvert the language block,” Orrittam said calmly. “You must know how futile it is, would not your energies be better directed elsewhere?”

She shrugged her lean elven shoulders. “Eventually it’ll break. Many former masters of mine have given me much the same instruction as you have. And I have surpassed their expectations many times over.”

“I do not underestimate you. I merely point out that your efforts may be put to better use elsewhere. Unless, of course, you do not mean to stay much longer?”

A strand of coppery hair had fallen over Mira’s face, she blew it aside and cast a sharp glance at the golden dragon. “You keep saying that, do you think I would abandon my friends?”

“You have been spending a great deal of time apart from them,” Orrittam pointed out without judgment. “One would think that, perhaps, you wish to distance yourself from your friends. One might also believe that in doing so, you might feel less inner turmoil at your decision to leave them. Or is it that you wish to spare them the pain of your departure?”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Mira said with a grin. “You made an ash out of me and- oh for the love of florking shirt!” She glared at Orrittam, who wisely shied away as much as was possible, considering the bulk of his body was trapped by a White Dragon. “You know what I meant.”

“Indeed,” Orrittam said with only the slightest hint of a grin on his draconic features. “There is little doubt that my present circumstance has escaped your powers of observation. I have little else to do but think and ponder. Forgive me if I have overstepped.”

Mira waved his apology away. “You’re pretty close to the mark,” she admitted with a soft sigh. “I’m not supposed to be here, you know that. You have the same aura as I do, neither of us is from this Worldshard.”

“We are both Realmwalkers, yes.”

“Well, aren’t you afraid that the Worldshard is going to give you the boot?”

“Not precisely.”

“You’ve been to many different Worldshards,” Mira said. He’d been to more worlds than she had. Considering her wanderlust, that was an achievement. Then again, he was a dragon. Deklin was going to be so mad when she told him that she had met an actual dragon. And a Gold at that!

“Indeed, and not a single one has ousted me. I would have thought your Order trained you to deal with such potentialities?”

“Orders are so 13th century, they’re called Academies now. But yes, they did. It’s just….”

His large serpentine eyes widened as he finally caught on.

“Now you get it,” Mira said. “I snuck in the proverbial back door. Sooner or later - sooner more like, considering how much attention Hal is garnering - the Worldshard is going to notice ‘one of these things is not like the other’ and yeet my well-toned bum out of this Worldshard.”

“And that is why you have been in the caverns below,” he said, catching on. “You think I was able to stay here so long because I have stumbled upon a pure vein of Ialite. I take it that is why I am graced with your present company?”

“More or less,” she said with an additional shrug. “I was hoping you had something that could help me to stay. I know you don’t have any reason to help me, but Hal needs-”

“I will help you, Miss Lavilieur. Of course I will. I only have one condition.”

“I’ve got a heavily used ‘bad dragon’ at home,” she said, giving Orrittam a stern glare. “I don’t need to compare it to the real deal, you feel me? If that’s what you’re after, keep looking pal.”

If dragons could blush, Orrittam was right then. He stammered several times, started and stopped some apology before Mira finally took some measure of pity on him.

She held up a hand to stop him. “Calm down, I’m just florking joking with you. What is it you want?”

“Ahem, yes, quite. Jolly good laugh all around. I was hoping you would have Sunday Tea with me and share some of your stories of other Worldshards. It has been a very long time since I have seen another Realmwalker, much less had the opportunity to speak with them at length.

“In exchange for my help stabilizing you, all I ask is for a moment of your time to keep an old dragon company. If you will do this, I will see to your stabilization. I take it you are already feeling the first ill effects?”

Mira nodded. “Tremors, bouts of reduced corporeality. Nothing too severe that I can’t overcome with force of mind-”

“But you would be a liability on the battlefield, where you are already quite taxed forcing your aether to act as mana in order to use your Class abilities. Yes, I could see how that would be a conundrum. Very well, could you grab that box of cookies over there?”

Without thinking, Mira looked to the faded box of Famous Amos cookies and willed it over to her waiting hand. It was an automatic motion. One, back home, she had done several times once acquiring the ability.

But she was not home. And her use of aether caused a sudden and severe backlash.

The System popped up one notification after the other of garbled text as it tried to sort out what she had just done. Of course, it couldn’t, and the painful feedback had her sprawled on the floor nearly unconscious.

All sound became muted and dull. The steady thumping of her heart drowned out all else. Her vision blurred. She could feel the tether at her navel draw itself taut as if she was a fish snagged on the line.

The Worldshard was rejecting her.

She tried to calm herself, to use the techniques Professor Imau taught her. She envisioned herself as a placid cup of water resting on the sand.

Despite the pain, she let her emotions boil up and over. She didn’t try to stop them or channel them. They passed through her and spilled out onto the sand in her mind’s eye.

There, they were soaked up by the thirsty parched desert all around her. The pain became distant. Her cup stilled and became calm once more.

When Mira opened her eyes, the worst of the pain had passed. Orrittam was there… mixing something that looked like a cake. He was whipping together ingredients by commanding those oversized black bats - keinse, she believed they were called - to fetch ingredients and stir them together.

One keinse was fluttering madly with a wooden spoon clutched in his taloned feet as he helped mix the ingredients of the bowl. Meanwhile, the other keinse were bombing the bowl with all sorts of strange ingredients.

There were cheetos, funyuns, bugles, oreos, all manner of junk food from her home, and several others she didn’t recognize like galax-o’s, oppa beans. There was an unending assortment of other treats from other Worldshards.

“You’re not going to make me eat that, are you?” she asked, growing a little nauseous just looking at it.

A keinse dropped in an egg. One whole, raw egg.

“Afraid so, my dear, afraid so! Your disassociation is coming along faster than I would have thought. No doubt spurred on by that silly action, you really should know better, but it is quite all right. We all make mistakes! If only I had some Ialite, but this will do instead.”

Mira let her head bounce against the stone floor as she dropped it with a groan. “At least put some hot sauce in there,” she groaned. Anything to overpower the stomach-churning mixture.

144

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Mira asked, looking at the lumpy, misshapen mess of a cake. It was the most putrid gray-green she had ever seen.

It didn’t help that Orrittam had generously splashed it with hot sauce, she could tell it was going to be bad.

“It will, temporarily at least,” he hedged.

“Hold the flork up, what do you mean temporarily?”

The stone at the far end of the room groaned as Orrittam shrugged his massive shoulders against the entrapping stone. “You will need to regularly eat such a mixture until a permanent solution can be found. Thus, the solution before us is a temporary one.

“If it is any consolation, you need not eat it all. A single slice - about a sixth - should suffice. It would stabilize you almost immediately. It’s really not as bad as it looks. I call them ‘Anchor Cakes’ on account-”

Mira belted out a horrendously fake laugh. “Yes, yes, I get it. They anchor you to the current Worldshard.” She eyed the gross baked cake. Even calling it a cake was an affront to all cakes that ever existed.

As she held up the hot-sauce splashed cake, her hand began to tremble. Her forearm became ever-so-slightly translucent, reminding her of the severity of her problem.

With a mental curse, she shut her eyes and took as big a bite of the cake as she could.

Dragon tastebuds, she understood then, were completely different than human. Or, she guessed, an elf’s. In either case, Orrittam was a big fat golden liar.

Bile rose in the back of her throat, but she managed to choke down the first bite. It still had crunchy bits in it.

“Ah… terribly sorry, Mira,” Orrittam said sheepishly. “But that is not a sixth. Another bite of the same size should suffice. We dragons have an excellent sense of proportion.”

Mira cast him a baleful glare, swallowed hard, and took another bite before she could lose her nerve. It didn’t hurt that her forearm was already fully corporeal.

She felt more… herself. Rooted and grounded.

By the time she finished with the second bite, she was sweating and gasping for breath. “Did you put Cap’n Crunch in there, or was that glass?”

“The former.”

Stomach churning, Mira propped herself up against a nearby chair and groaned for the next half hour. If Orrittam seemed bothered by it, he never said anything.

In fact, if it wasn’t for the devil’s brew in her stomach - she was not looking forward to its exit - she would have had a decent time. Orrittam regaled her with tales of his own Realmwalking.

The untamed breadth and fury of Telsara, the somber fields of Lormar, the brutal wars of Ferraen, and even the wondrous (and dangerously unchecked) magicks of Gyrand of which Mira had heard a great deal about.

She let the dragon’s soothing, cultured voice wash over her. It was a great deal like meditating. By focusing on his voice, she could forget about the bubbling cauldron in her gut.

Eventually, she felt good enough to sit up properly, and from there it was another hour until she could stand. Clenching her fist tightly, Mira could feel the power that was suddenly and inexplicably drained away in the last few days.

“Thank you,” she said sincerely. “It’s been months since I’ve felt this strong. It’s almost like the first week I came here. Only I’m not trying to acclimatize myself to the System.”

“Then I take it you will answer the summons?” Orrittam asked.

Mira nodded. “Now that I’m not going to get somebody killed because I suddenly get a bout of weakness, yes.”

With a mental command, she opened up her System menu. Even though she felt much better, it still came as a surprise when it opened up without issue.

Over the past week - ever since coming to the Shiverglades - she had been experiencing worse and worse blackouts of her System. Whenever she wanted to use an ability or a spell, nothing happened.

Trying to pull up stats or allocate EXP was practically a coin toss. She couldn’t put Hal or any of her friends in jeopardy like that. It was one of the reasons she so willingly took to exploring the caves with the dwarves.

They had finished days ago, and when given the opportunity to work on the wall, Mira asked them to let her stay on her own. By then, the dwarves thought she could handle herself, and the cavern complex directly below Orrittam’s lair was hardly dangerous.

Had they known how weak she had grown, they wouldn’t have left. Likely, they would have whisked her away to Ashera or Buffrix, or worse, Hal. Not that Hal could have helped her, but she didn’t want to distract him.

Being a leader was something she was proud of him for, the last thing she wanted was to sidetrack him by forcing a Quest to help her onto his already bowed shoulders. Not that she would ever tell him she was proud of him.

A girl had to keep her mystery. Better to let them all think that she was being aloof than to tell them the truth.

“This stays between us,” Mira said. “Got it?”

“Your friends care deeply for you, Mira. Surely they would appreciate knowing your circumstance. They may even be able to find a permanent solution.”

“Between. Us.”

“Oh, very well!” Orrittam huffed. “You humans are so prickly. I will keep your secret. In fact, despite your ill-fated attempt to hide your ailment, I will give you a boon.”

Mira quirked an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“While there exist a myriad of Worldshards where Dragoons hunt and kill dragons, there are many more where Dragoons hunt alongside dragons. Many even bond them in an attempt to garner more power.”

“I thought I told you I wasn’t interested in sex?” she said, trying to stifle a laugh. Pushing people’s buttons was kind of her thing.

In a fit of surprising fury, Orrittam blew out twin jets of gold flame from his nostrils. The air in the room suddenly became sweltering, and Mira’s smirk was quickly wiped from her flushed face.

“This is serious, Mira.”

“Oh, very well,” Mira said with a dramatic sigh. “Do go on.” While she did well to keep the fear and concern from her face, she was poignantly reminded that she was dealing with a real florking dragon.

Not some drake, a wurm, or even a wyrm, but an actual dragon.

It was easy to think that the golden dragon was a pushover due to his polite mannerisms and somewhat prissy attitude. And the fact that he was stuck. But, had he wanted to, he could have easily roasted Mira where she stood.

Maybe she would have survived, maybe not.

There were few other adversaries that could likely take on the Dragoon one-on-one and potentially win so swiftly and effortlessly. If Orrittam had full function of his entire body, then it wouldn’t even be a contest.

Your Deception has risen to Level 25.

+1% Deception success (+25%).

+0.5% Deception awareness (+12.5%).

-0.5% Reputation loss (-12.5%).

You have 2 Deception Perk points awaiting assignment.

She was looking forward to spending those perks. She had hit Level 20 Deception way back when a dwarf asked her if she knew what a “bed of beards” was, and she had said no.

Of course she knew what a dwarven harem was!

Leveling Up Deception was fun, and not something that was going to hurt anybody. Besides, it helped her to keep her secrets… secret. As they were supposed to be.

She turned her attention back to Orrittam, who was patiently waiting.

“Ahem,” he said, clearing his throat with a bassy rumble. “As I was saying, Dragoons of certain Worldshards are capable of tapping into draconic powers. Aldim just so happens to be one such Worldshard. And if you are going to defend this fledgling kingdom, I would do my part in empowering you with a gift.

“A word of warning, however. This gift is temporary, it will last for precisely a single hour. Use it only when you are in dire need of strength.” As he spoke, a keinse came around the side of his long golden neck. Clutched within its tiny taloned feet was a golden scale.

Mira took it, staring at it in awe. It was as large as a tea saucer and glittered in the mid-morning sun.

“The assault will happen tonight, and I fear you will need all the help you can get.”

Putting the [Gold Dragon Scale] into her inventory, Mira gave a respectful bow to Orrittam. “Thank you.” The scale had practically hummed with power when she held it. All it would take was a mental command to consume it and gain whatever strength it could grant.

Being a Golden Dragoon sounds pretty badash - oh come on! She groaned. At least let me have that one!

“Have they found him yet?” Mira asked, once she had mastered her frustration.

“No, and I fear that the keinse will be needed to scout out the assault coming your way. Already they tell me of a disturbance to the south and west. Noth has them spread out searching for Hal, perhaps you could have a word with her?”

Grabbing her spear, Mira turned toward the exit. “I’ll do that. Hopefully, I won’t ruin the conversation by shirting my pants with that horrible concoction you made.”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

145

Durvin clapped his hands together, dusting the dirt from them. He nodded as he surveyed the gap.

Your Trapmaking Skill has risen to Level 12.

+2% Trap damage (+24%).

+5% Trap damage within tunnels (+60%).

+0.35% Trap creation speed (+4.2%).

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 9.

+1.7% Battle plan efficacy (+15.3%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+9%).

-0.45% Stamina usage when using Tactics (-4.05%).

+1.5% Damage when using Tactics (+13.5%).

Not a bad haul, Durvin thought to himself as he dismissed the notifications. Trapmaking was a dwarven pastime that, given his lineage and the struggle that had been dropped into his lap before he was fully whiskered, he understandably lacked.

Now he was making up for a youth spent dodging assassins and fending off opportunistic nobles.

It felt good to be out here, away from the political intrigue and webs of lies that the Anvil was known for. If he had it his way, he would never go back.

But many of his Clan were still back there, those that weren’t capable of fending for themselves quite as well as those brave men and women he had at his side now.

Durvin tamped down the loose soil around the spring-trap and stepped back to admire his latest trap. It wouldn’t stand up to the stuff his boys were doing elsewhere all over the gap, but it was decent enough.

And it paled in comparison to the horrors that the koblins were able to make. Gruesome looking things that looked like they would never work in a million years, but somehow managed to work better than most of the Bouldergut’s contraptions.

But none of them, not the most devious koblin, nor the most skilled dwarf, came close to the devilishly effective traps the Rangers made. Durvin couldn’t even see where they were hidden and his Perception was nearly 50.

That was why they were all using the karaks to haul materials and people, but most importantly to spot traps. The Kweh Gang had swiftly taken charge of the karaks they had used to get here and put them to work. While the Kweh Gang acted autonomously, they had their favorites.

Most of them would follow Hal - or Noth until Hal returned - but in the absence of either, the karaks did whatever the Rangers asked.

Boco Bluefeather, recently recovered from his battle injuries, was up and about in the gap. His dusty blue feathers rustled in the chill breeze as the beautiful bird traipsed up and down the gap bearing supplies and workers to and fro.

For some reason, the keen-eyed karaks could see what only the Rangers could. And that made them excellent overseers. With their tall graceful bodies, they could see quite far as well, much farther than a dwarf or koblin could.

If only they were in the tunnels. That was where a dwarf truly shined. Drop ceilings, false floors, crumbling walls, there was no end to the ingenuity of dwarfs.

The options were significantly more limited out with the great big sky above their heads. Pit traps, spring traps, and all manner of automatically resetting ambushes were laid after the initial walls were built.

Noth had been very explicit that they were to expect no friendly forces anytime soon. To the dwarfs who saw the Settlement as home and hearth, that meant they were in it for the long haul.

Angram and a couple of Rangers had gone off to one of the mountain spurs with supplies and a rope ladder in anticipation of Elora’s return. Apparently, there were others with Elora, but since the lass couldn’t talk to monsters like Noth or Hal could, nobody knew what exactly that meant.

The keinse flying over their heads were amazing scouts, but with only two people able to talk to them, their effectiveness was a bit like the Busterback twins. Good in a pinch, but hardly reliable.

Not a single race in all the world could extract a dwarf alive that was dug in and in defense of his or her home. And that is what the Settlement represented to each of them.

And so Durvin and Athagan got together to design the deadliest traps they could, making sure that only their forces would know the way through the deadly maze.

While Bardan put the finishing touches on his special project for Noth, Durvin finished the last of the spring traps and was carefully making his way through the dangerous gap.

Turning back to the north, Durvin looked at the Palisade Walls. A pair of koblins were busy modifying one of the central walls. It looked like they were putting a… treasure chest inside?

Scratching his beard, Durvin didn’t know what to make of that. But if they were doing it at the wall, then the little fellas must have gotten approval.

That curious gnome, Rondo, was up on the wall directing the koblins below and a couple of dwarfs who were facing the wall with strangely cut stones.

Even now, with hours to go until the assault was set to begin, dwarves were busy outfitting the defenses.

A few were getting their last spiked logs put in place, but for the most part, they were ready. As ready as any could be for an unknown enemy to assault their new home.

If the entrance had been to a cave, there was no force in all of Aldim that could stand against Durvin and his Clan. Being out in the open introduced a number of problems the cunning dwarfs were not used to.

Chiefly among them, was the utter lack of information.

They had no idea just what sort of monsters would be coming against them. Should they expect fliers, or creatures that stayed to the ground? Would they be smart or stupid?

And so they had to prepare for every eventuality.

A long resonant horn blew, 1 of 12 similar horns. Durvin had one, and so did every party leader of the wall defense. They had tested them earlier, and if somebody was playing around with them-

Another horn blew.

Durvin twisted about to see a towering mass of green vines topped with a wide head full of black obsidian teeth coming into the mouth of the gap at the southern end.

Several dwarfs were still working on their traps on the northern end of the gap. On Durvin’s orders, they had done the southern entrance first, working their way back.

Mostly to prevent mishaps from dwarfs like the Busterback twins. But it was useful in the event that the Shiverglades was a no-good, milk-drinking, troll-kissing, hammer-breaker that decided it would attack whenever it felt like.

Several dwarfs, koblins, and karaks watched as the Morbolger slithered into the gap and triggered the first trap. A series of spiked levers jumped out of the ground and impaled themselves into the creature’s tentacles.

Had the traps been typical manmade things, that would have been the end of it. The massive beast was far too large to be stopped by anything so puny. It would have ripped the supports, and the trap now embedded in its body.

If it had been manmade.

But it was not. A dwarf had made it, and not just any old dwarf. A Bouldergut.

Durvin watched with pride as the first stage of the trap finished, and a sudden popping sound echoed across the field as the spikes dislodged from the rod. The explosive force pushed the spikes deeper into the creature, while simultaneously pushing the rod that held the spikes back into its holster, resetting the trap.

It would take a good fifteen seconds before the spikes reformed, but there were plenty of traps to go around.

And that wasn’t all.

Slithering with much less grace and speed than before, the Morbolger was caught off guard when the charges set inside the spikes finally detonated.

Green sap was flung far and wide as three of its tentacles were blasted apart. The Morbolger fell to the ground with a heavy thump, triggering two more traps of similar design.

Similar, but not the same. A dwarf's craftsmanship was their calling card, and there were as many ways to make a simple spike trap as there were types of ale. Which was to say, a lot.

Durvin watched with a smile as the other two spike traps sprang to life and immediately let loose their hazardous payload.

Rather than imbed, the twisted, threaded spikes gored holes into the Morbolger’s flesh and blasted out the backside. They continued for a half a dozen yards until they fell to the ground, their momentum spent.

Had there been any other monsters nearby, they would have been similarly gored. The Morbolger did not rise again.

Off to the side, one of his boys whooped and hollered. As the creator of one of the traps that killed the monster, they would have gotten the EXP for it.

He hoped that would be all this would be. Dwarfs jockeying for the most kills by traps that would spring and kill their enemies long before they ever gained the walls.

They weren’t a large group that they could sustain heavy losses. Even mild casualties would be devastating. Their little slice of heaven still needed to survive the coming winter.

And that was nothing of the hit to morale, to the boy’s most of all. Hal had a naïve streak in him though he did well to hide it.

No doubt the boy thought they could weather the assault against their home without any casualties. They might avoid outright deaths, not that Durvin thought that likely, but there was no way they were coming out the other end of this mess whole and intact.

It was only midday, but already the air felt different.

Taking out his horn, Durvin gave three short blasts, the signal to fall back to the wall. Several heads turned to look his way curiously, but not one of them disobeyed.

Each of the men and women in the gap dropped what they were doing and began to make their way cautiously toward the walls. It was the air, it smelled wrong.

If there was one thing that had kept Durvin Bouldergut alive all his long life, it was his nose for trouble. He knew well enough by then when to pursue it and when to back off. And right now, his long nose was telling him there was trouble coming.

Bardan’s boys were high up on either side of the gap continuing their work. Durvin trusted in him to get those dwarfs to safety when it was time. The sun was barely past its zenith when the gap was emptied. Karaks swiftly ferried their charges safely behind the walls.

The last of the ramps was pulled up, and everybody looked curiously at Durvin. He wasn’t known to be a skittish leader, but his sudden order was a bit odd, considering they didn’t expect to be attacked for a good five hours hence.

But the air smelled wrong.

There was a short blast of a horn high up on the ridge. One of Bardan’s scouts keeping an eye on the Shiverglades.

Without warning, a dozen Morbolgers suddenly broke through the soft earth and appeared in the middle of the gap. Right where they had been working up until a little while ago.

If he hadn’t pulled them back, they would have found themselves in the thick of things with only their tools to aid them.

Durvin turned to a stocky young dwarf he had tasked as a runner. “We’re to be fightin’ early,” he told the runner. “Spread the word, lad. And get out to the rest of the Rangers, we’ll want ‘em up on the high ground through Bardan’s stair before the gap gets too thick with monsters. It’s going to get worse afore it gets better, or I’m a bearded gnome!”

Rondo gave a flat stare to Durvin, stroking his beardless chin. Though his mutton chops had grown in quite nicely over the last few weeks.

“Just a sayin’,” Durvin said.

“Aren’t they always?” Rondo replied dryly, folding his small arms over his chest.

146

As Hal plummeted toward the rocky ground, he realized that a parachute - no matter the make - took time to catch the wind and slow a person’s fall. Too close to the ground, and it would do nothing.

Just as it was doing now.

There wasn’t much that could be done, freefalling as he was. But he still had to try.

He fell within himself, trying to stretch the parachute he had made with essence to catch more of the wind. If he could at least slow his fall enough not to be fatal, that would be worthwhile.

A deep wrenching pain in his guts made him cry out, just as he heard a distant voice in the back of his head.

“You really ought to stop getting yourself into these situations,” Besal said. “Straining yourself to the point of tapping into a higher essence tier you don’t yet have access to is a good way to pull something.”

Hal felt Besal’s power join with his, and the feeble attempt at altering his essence shifted. Rather than feeling like he was trying to punch in a dream, his body - and his essence - heeded his call.

Besal grants you the effect of Second Verse.

Your Essence Tier has increased.

Essence Tier II

Complex formations of essence are now possible. Wings, advanced limbs, prehensile tails, etc. Efficacy and strength of new formations are based on the essence(s) used to create them.

Thin, airy bones stretched from his shoulder blades across the taut flesh he had failed to use as a parachute. Wings formed, their edges tattered as they were formed mid-fall.

With a powerful beat of his new limbs, Hal managed three hearty flaps before the rocky ground smacked into him. A tenth of his HP was shaved off in that one blinding impact, but he survived.

More importantly, he had wings.

They were not Besal’s shadowy wings, but those of flesh and bone. As Hal gingerly pushed himself to his feet, doing a quick check to make sure nothing was broken, he flexed his wings.

It was only possible because of Besal’s aid, but it was something different than before. These were more his than Besal’s, and he wondered how strong they might be.

He didn’t want to risk using multiple types of essence in the construction of his wings just yet, and so while he was Splicing eldritch, insect, and aberration he only used the latter.

Beedle glided gently down to Hal’s side, having no problem whatsoever making the trip. It reached up to a sack that Hal suspected had a potion or some healing item, but Hal stopped him with a shake of his head.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Bit wounded, but mostly just my pride. You up for flying across the water?”

In response, Beedle buzzed his shining gossamer wings and took to the air. As Hal examined his wings, he molded the essence to improve them. Ribs of bone extended out to support the sturdy sinew. The dark tattered edges grew calloused and rigid.

Using his newfound control of Convergence, Hal transferred all of his strength to his legs and jumped. He rocketed into the air like a bolt of lightning. Transferring that strength to his wings, he used Convergence to beat furiously at the air.

He cried out, not in fear or anger, but in untold elation. His wings kept him aloft, but the SP drain was ridiculously high. Slowing his wing flaps, he was able to conserve more of his SP, but then he had another problem.

Flapping slower preserved SP, but he was beginning to sink back toward the ground.

They always make flying seem so easy in movies, Hal grumped as he set back down on the rocks. That short burst of being airborne had drained half of his SP.

Beedle remained airborne, lazily circling him as if to tell him to hurry up.

“I know, I know,” he said, taking a moment to catch his breath. “I’m new to this.”

This time, Hal took a running start. With Convergence pushed entirely into AGI to speed his way, his long strides chewed up what little runway he had. At the last minute, he shifted to STR, flooding his legs with over three times his usual strength.

Hal soared through the air, hanging there for a good long moment before he began to beat his new wings at a measured pace. Each flap consumed SP, his weakest and slowest regenerating resource.

Because of course it would.

Beedle had no trouble keeping pace with Hal once his initial burst of speed was spent. Flying the entire way was out of the question. He simply did not have enough SP, even utilizing Assimilation would not give him enough to complete the journey.

Instead, Hal leaped from one ice floe to the next. Unlike the journey out, he didn’t need to stay on the slippery chunks of ice for longer than a heartbeat before he was airborne again.

Using a combination of Convergence and Assimilation, Hal was able to cross the expanse of frigid water without issue. Whatever crocodilian creatures that rose out of the depths were too slow to catch him.

And now that there was daylight, Hal noticed a great many of them. What he first took to be logs or debris, turned out to be large groups of the horrid monsters.

By the time he landed on the opposite shore, his MP was down to half, and his SP was nearly empty. Without Assimilation, he never would have reached the end. Even then, he wondered how Besal was able to do it the last time they crossed.

He thought that once he could fly, it would open up an entirely different world to him. Instead, if he used it improperly, he could easily find himself winded, and without the Stamina to fight once he landed.

Epic mid-air battles were - sadly - simply out of the question until he was able to strengthen himself further. Maybe it was because he didn’t yet have the next essence tier unlocked.

It could be any number of things, and once the day was over and his people safe, he would spend some time testing it out. There were plenty of high places along the Settlement’s sheer mountain walls.

Those would make perfect locations to test out his flying capabilities. He had just calmed his pounding heart when a notification startled him and set it to racing again.

You have unlocked Flight (Level 0).

Few creatures possess the innate ability to fly, and while yours is a gift gained from modifying your physical form, it functions no differently. Contrary to common thought, flying is an arduous and taxing affair for those unaccustomed to its rigors.

Your Flight has risen to Level 1.

+0.35% Speed while flying (+0.35%).

+0.35% Control while flying (+0.35%).

-0.25% Stamina cost (-0.25%).

“Better than having to struggle forever,” he said to himself as Beedle gently landed beside him.

That Flight was a skill, changed everything.

He was originally going to stick to jogging through the Shiverglades, trying to retrace his steps until he was close enough to the Settlement to find familiar landmarks.

But if Flight was a skill, that meant it could be Leveled Up. And that meant he could put his new skill to work immediately.

Stretching his wings, Hal took another quarter of his MP and transferred it to his SP by way of Assimilation. At tier 3 Assimilation, he gained 75% of all resources placed into his SP.

So while he lost 208 MP, he gained 157 SP.

Considering his rapid loss of SP from Flight, it wasn’t much. But it allowed him to get to the higher branches of the trees as he broke through the tree line and entered the forests of the Shiverglades proper. He was making great time as the sun slowly made its way toward its zenith.

What had originally taken over a day of travel, he now expected to cut in half heading back. By the time the sun began to set that night, he would be within sight of the Settlement.

It had been long enough since his last [Elixir] that he could use another one if he had to. And if that didn’t make him battle-ready, he could always dip into his surplus EXP and Level Up before joining the fray.

He might lose out on the ability to Dominate more monsters, but it might be worth the cost to arrive at the Settlement ready to fight with the ability to use an [Elixir] mid-battle.

All in all, things were looking up for once. He didn’t complete his Dark Communion, but neither would he miss the defense of his new home. And that, more than anything else, was of chief importance.

Using more Convergence than his wings, Hal leaped from branch to branch, often taking to the springier variety to give him some extra launching power. With his higher vantage point, Hal could orient himself to directly aim for the Settlement.

Using his connection to the Manaseed at the Settlement’s heart, he set his course. Rock tumbles that would have slowed him down were passed over with ease. More oily pits that would have required a detour were simple affairs requiring a few flaps of his wings and a Convergence enhanced jump to avoid.

Beedle easily paced him among the tall branches, and many monsters that lingered down on the forest floor were unaware of his presence.

But not all of them.

Hal had shifted his focus from defense to speed. All of his thoughts were bent on getting back to the Settlement before dark. The sun was well on its way toward the west, and it had been hours since he had even seen another monster within 20 feet.

He was still thinking about his home when a well-camouflaged hunting cat suddenly sprang out from its position on a nearby branch and launched itself directly at him.

147

Knocked sideways, Hal and the large cat crashed into the branch he had just landed upon. His ribs bruised at the impact, and his delay in acting cost him dearly. The cat raked its claws across his breastplate, filling the forest with an ear-splitting screech.

A hair’s breadth from crashing down to the branches below, he struggled against the beast. Long whipping tendrils rolled off its body, each tipped with a triangular protrusion filled with hooked barbs.

“I don’t have time for this!” Hal growled as he raised his left hand and focused.

His Kol’thil reacted to his will, a rising strength welled up within him as he focused on the cat about to clamp its black jaws on his face. Hal shoved at the creature’s head, trying to buy the time it would take to enact the Kol’thil Sigil.

The golden lightning of Dominate pulsed along Hal’s forearm, the direct connection worked faster than at range, and the great feline went suddenly still. A blazing Gold Kol’thil mark appeared on its forehead.

An awareness of the monster appeared in the back of Hal’s head just as he was struck with a head-splitting pain. For a moment, he thought it had managed to bite him, but the Disara stood erect and unmoving.

The pain began to fade, but it felt like somebody was trying to chop through his head.

You suffer 100 points of psychic damage (Kol’thil Bleed).

So that’s what it does? I take damage when I use my Kol’thil Sigils, I guess that’s kind of in the name, huh?

Focusing on his Kol’thil Sigils, Hal felt something else he had missed before. There were more than two Sigils at his disposal.

I don’t remember getting any…. The codex never illuminated anything either despite all the effort I put into it.

With the ease of commanding his own limbs, Hal had the Disara wrap its tendrils around him and lift him onto its back. He was down nearly 500 EXP for this single creature, but it was worth avoiding a drawn-out fight.

Even taking over 10% HP damage from Kol’thil Bleed, it was a bargain. Hal focused on his Kol’thil Sigils, bringing up a notification.

Feril Ironbound grants you Iron Kol’thil Sigil: Daybreak.

Generate a massive orb of radiant light, dealing damage to foes within its radius and preventing healing effects.

Feril Ironbound grants you Iron Kol’thil Sigil: Crystallize.

Send a wave of crystallizing energy through the weave, binding, and stilling the threads of those you choose.

Hal felt at his shoulder, where Feril had touched him and sent a shock of pain through him. Was that the gift he had given Hal?

Did the man even know that he had just doubled Hal’s Sigils? Both seemed immensely powerful, but he had no idea what the difference between an Iron Kol’thil Sigil and a Gold Kol’thil Sigil was.

True to form, there was no further information. It was entirely plausible, he realized, that he was using his Sigils all wrong. That utilizing his EXP to power them was some novice mistake that he would kick himself later for.

Truthfully, it didn’t matter to him at that moment. If there was a better way, he would find it. If not, he had a glut of EXP to spend. Neither of those abilities seemed as powerful as Dominate, but he didn’t know the extent of their strength.

If he could Dominate a horde of monsters, then use Crystallize on a great many others, he could quickly turn the tide of battle. That was assuming that he understood how Crystallize worked.

He had a slight, innate understanding of the ability. It was enough to know that he could crystallize his enemies, but not enough to know whether or not they were more or less vulnerable in that state.

There was nothing to do but to try them out. Soon enough, he would have plenty of enemies to test his new Sigils on. He would need to be careful to manage the risk of Kol’thil Bleed, however.

Using more of his Sigils was bound to make it worse, and he had no idea if each Sigil caused a different effect. He could weather a 10% drop in his HP. After all, it seemed he suffered no physical injury.

But the pain… being stunned even for a second in the middle of a fight meant he had to approach the use of his Sigils carefully. They were no longer something he could rely on as a last resort.

If he was unlucky enough that a creature resisted his Sigil, the blinding pain of Kol’thil Bleed would leave him exposed to deadly reprisal.

Commanding the Disara to move forward, the beast sprang into action. It was as lithe as he had hoped.

Like most modern city-dwellers, Hal had never ridden a horse. Had never seen one that wasn’t on the internet or TV. But he didn’t need to. He was the Disara, it was an extension of himself.

With a thought, he could move the six-limbed creature just as easily and with the same level of awareness as he could wriggle his fingers and toes. So while he had no actual experience riding any animal, he didn’t need it.

With the Disara serving as his mount, he didn’t need to spend Stamina returning to the settlement, and would even be able to recover some along the way. The rest, Assimilation could shore up.

Up close, without the cat trying to bite his face off, Hal could see that it was much more than a typical panther. What he had first mistaken for moss were patches of green scale across its brow and limbs.

Anywhere armor would be of use, it had those green scales. The rest of its body was sleek and black, unnaturally thin and wiry but with obvious strength as it propelled itself with ease through the branches high above the forest floor.

Whenever its leap wasn’t quite enough, Hal used its tendrils to snare a branch and swing across the gap. He thought he was making good time before, but with the Disara at his disposal, and Beedle flying beside him, they cleared miles of forest with ease.

Still, the sun began its fiery dip to the west by the time Hal caught sight of familiar landmarks. The high ridge that swept down from the towering mountain at the heart of the Shiverglades was just visible on his right through the cover of the trees.

An hour more at most, he reckoned.

The shadows of the Shiverglades had grown long. So much of his MP had regenerated that he used Assimilation to fully recover his SP. His wounds - minor as they were - were knit by the time he could hear the distant din of combat.

His heart fell.

It wasn’t even dark yet, and the sound from the fighting within the gap flooded out into the forest to the south. Dark bats circled overhead as he broke off toward the north before the entrance to the Settlement. He would never make it through if they had trapped it properly.

And besides, it sounded like there was an entire army doing battle there. He needed high ground and to reach out to the keinse. He hoped nothing had happened to Noth, or else nobody would be able to relay his message.

Throughout his journey, he didn’t see a single keinse. Not that he had expected to, in fact, he hoped that Noth trusted him to be able to return.

At least there were no search parties. He felt bad enough about being late, but if he caused people to be out in harm’s way….

Hal shook the dark thoughts from his head and lifted his head to shout at the keinse circling above. It would just be his luck that he managed to return in time for the battle - if a little late - only to be shot with an arrow, or worse because he looked like a monster atop the Disara’s back.

Just to be safe he folded his wings behind his back. He wasn’t about to dismiss them entirely, not when an errant mistake would send him tumbling off the Disara’s back.

“It’s the Hal!” cried one of the keinse.

“I need you to get a message to Noth, can you do that?” Hal asked. He guided the Disara up the steep mountainside.

Its mighty claws dug deep into the hard stone as if it were putty. Footholds that even a mountain goat would struggle with were no match for the Disara’s six powerful legs.

Even with Hal astride it, the beast moved with supernatural alacrity.

“Yeah, yeah, we can do that easy bossman! We’re doing recon, eyes in the sky!” the keinse replied.

“Cool and breezy tonight!” another keinse cried out.

Which, of course, meant that a good dozen other keinse voices joined in the chorus. They commented on the weather, the blazing sun to the west, and almost as an afterthought on the hordes of monsters below in the gap.

Getting a message through the keinse was a chore at the best of times, but distracted as they were it was nightmarish.

Despite the sheer rise of the mountain and the hundreds of feet he had to climb on Disaraback, they had only just delivered his message to Noth by the time he crested the rise.

The scene before him stole his breath away.

A writhing mass of monsters filled the gap below. Like a black tide, they surged through the wide expanse and broke against the distant shore of the wall they had thankfully finished.

From up high, he could make out a flurry of activity atop the wall, but he couldn’t see who was who. Hastily constructed crenelations, little more than piled stones, offered a measure of defense against the creatures below that spat out various projectiles.

Already, the gap was littered with bodies of fallen monsters. But those that came on just moved over them. Traps sprang up with malicious intent, felling whole swaths of monsters at once, but it wasn’t enough.

Each body that was laid low provided safe passage over the traps below it. Soon enough, the gap would be so filled with monster corpses that their traps would be rendered ineffective.

“Dark Lady says go north, she will meet you on top of the pair of pets,” a keinse said cheerily.

“She said pair-a-pet. A parapet!” another keinse corrected the first.

Hal looked to the north, wondering when they had time to build a parapet up on the ridge. He commanded his Disara forward at a swift pace. Hal hoped any archers would look twice before firing. At least until Noth could spread the word not to attack anything on the eastern ridge.

At his side, Beedle finally came atop the ridge. “Stay low and behind me, Beedle.”

148

Hal did his best to keep his focus forward, but he couldn’t help glancing over the tumbles of boulders and down into the gap below. The entrance to his home was already thick with beasts and monsters of all kinds.

Morbolgers were there, but they weren’t the only monsters in attendance. They were just the largest.

Lean red-skinned creatures, half as tall as a Morbolger, wove through the tumble of bodies. Traps sprung wherever there wasn’t a heavy corpse atop it, but they were already overwhelmed.

Many creatures had made it within reach of the wall at the northern end, but the defenders atop the wall, dwarves, human, koblin, and elves stood shoulder-to-shoulder in solidarity.

Though the defenders were few in number, they drove back the creatures that managed to get close with precise, well-drilled attacks that made Hal feel guilty for not better preparing for the attack. If this was all the Shiverglades threw at them, he would forever feel like he ran away from his duties by pursuing his own power.

“Would you be just another defender upon the wall, then?” Besal asked, his smoky voice echoing in Hal’s head.

“Better to be just another soldier, than to be away when I’m needed,” he countered.

“You still have much to learn,” Besal said. Hal could practically see him shaking his head. “This is not the world you came from. One more sword will do little against such viciousness. Another soldier is another body.

“The magic you have gained, even partial as it is, will be worth dozens of fighters. The Experience you earned will buy your friends time to regroup, to recover. To carry the wounded away before they become martyrs.

“You are not a soldier. You are a leader. You are more than a man. Do not forget that. Your strength comes from your ability to break the limits of your mortality. Unlike those around you.”

Hal was about to argue some more when he spotted Noth gaining the pinnacle of the ridge just ahead of him. Unable to contain the swelling in his chest at the sight of her, the Disara leaped forward, straight through the shimmering veil of the Manaseed’s barrier. It climbed the remaining 20-foot rise to Noth as if it was level ground.

You gain the effect of Founder’s Day.

+25% Skill gain rate | +25% Experience points.

+25% Crafting Points | +25% Gathering Points.

+25% HP | +25% SP | +25% MP.

+25% HP Regeneration | +25% SP Regeneration | +25% MP Regeneration.

+100% Morale | -25% Elysian Point cost | +100% Settlement defense.

Duration: 1 day.

Reining in his emotions, the Disara calmed as it came upon the startled Noth. Hal hadn’t known that it would react like that. It seemed to understand his emotions before even he did, and it reacted to his desire to be near Noth.

Noth, her scythe held out in alarm, slowly began to put it back in the holster on her back. She smiled, though it was strained, as Hal hopped off the Disara. They collided together in a tight embrace.

“Are you okay?” she asked, holding him out at arm’s length and examining his new equipment. “This is new, where did you get it?”

“Later,” Hal said. He motioned to his left, into the gap below. “How long has this been going on?”

“Hours,” Noth said, taking a step back and leading him higher onto the narrow ridge. “It began somewhat simple at first, but they just kept coming. Eventually, even the traps began to malfunction or were buried beneath the bodies.

“We can’t risk going out to burn them, and even if we did, the traps might spring suddenly. I had a few of the Kweh Gang slip in and take care of some of the bodies, but it was too much for a single group.”

“How is Boco?” Hal asked. The last time he’d seen the blue karak, the bird was not doing well.

“Look for yourself.” Noth motioned down to a distant blue oversized bird flinging large rocks with one of its taloned feet. Unerringly, each rock found its mark.

The walls were a hive of activity, an impressive feat considering that the citizens of the fledgling Settlement weren’t great in number.

“Everybody is fighting,” Noth said. “Some behind the lines, but everybody does their part. Nobody wants to see harm come to our home.”

The stony ridge shook, and a great Morbolger slumped to the ground below. Golden rays of light spread across the scudding clouds overhead. Dark fingers, shadows of the mountain peaks, spread across the leaden ceiling.

To Hal’s surprise, the rough and uneven ground soon gave way to perfectly level and smooth stone. It wasn’t cut stone, but the ridge itself had been smoothed and flattened in wide steps that rose to a circular platform. It was a parapet that looked down about three-quarters of the way through the gap.

Noth saw the way Hal was looking at the stone and grinned. “Like it? This is Bardan’s special project. I’m amazed at the progress he made in so short a time. It’s unfinished, of course, nothing a dwarf does is ever truly finished until it’s a work of art.”

Hal had heard the expression before, and seeing the constant tinkering of Durvin’s race long after an item would be serviceable, confirmed it.

“I need to get down there,” Hal said, motioning to the wall.

Angram came up through an unseen stairwell to Hal’s side, the elf looked at Hal with wide ruby-red eyes. “Well, so the reports are true! You beat Elora back home, she won’t be happy about that.”

“Elora isn’t back yet?” Hal asked, alarm in his voice.

“Not to worry, your girlfriend has been keeping an eye on her.”

Hal turned to Noth, who glared daggers at Angram as color rose high on her cheeks. She turned back to Hal. “I’ve had a couple keinse keep an eye on her. She can’t hear them or talk through them, naturally, but she is coming closer. Within the hour, I’m told. If you would like to confirm-”

Raising a hand to stop her, Hal shook his head. “They’re used to talking to you right now, I don’t want to take over anything you already have covered. Tell me what you’re working on, and I’ll see where I can fit in best.”

Angram raised a black brow at that. “Well, something has surely humbled our dear leader! I was just coming out to set out a welcome wagon for Elora and her friends.”

“Friends?” Hal asked.

“She’s not alone,” Noth said. “The keinse struggle to count them, but there is at least a party’s worth of barbarians alongside Elora.”

“Every little bit will help,” Angram said. He patted Hal on the shoulder and took off down the ridge, back the way Hal just came.

Once they were alone again, Hal looked at Noth. “I’m sorry I left you with all of this.”

It was Noth’s turn to stop him from talking. “I actually enjoyed it, after the first few dwarves got black eyes, the rest started to realize my position wasn’t one of nepotism. Besides, it’ll be good for me.”

That set Hal back on his heels, but he recovered quickly. His heart felt a little lighter, despite the grim tidings of war at their doorstep. She had done well. Amazingly well, in fact.

The Settlement was in a state of preparedness that he wasn’t sure he could have ever improved upon. He certainly would not have thought to build up defenses high on the ridges in the way Noth did.

“You did all this?” Hal asked, motioning to the wide area.

“A memory,” Noth said. “From my past. They aren’t fully functional, but we have a few of the Rangers on each side.”

They took a sloping path down to a larger curved level where several dwarves and koblins were loading catapults with heavy stones. Rondo was nearby, directing them.

“Havior is back!” one of the koblins cried. “Buffrix must be knowing!” Before anybody truly understood what the koblin was doing, the little one pulled out something that looked a lot like a roman candle and snapped it in half over his patchwork knee.

The colorful hollow tube broke apart easily, and the koblin was quick to raise both halves skyward. From within the dark confines exploded a shower of light and cacophonous racket that rebounded off the stones around them, magnifying the sound.

Dozens of people fighting down on the wall turned to look at the spectacles of multi-colored showers of light and sound that somehow managed to illuminate both Hal and Noth but nobody else.

Distracted by the light and sound above their heads, Hal didn’t notice the koblin sneaking around behind them, illuminating them from behind.

As the sound of the fireworks died down, another one rose from below that would have given it a run for its money. A boisterous cheer lifted from dozens of throats, many of them the rich deep rumbling of a dwarf. Hal didn’t understand why, but he wasn’t about to let an opportunity to raise morale go to waste.

Withdrawing [Emissary] from its sheath at his hip, Hal raised the blade high overhead and channeled his mana into it, causing the blue-yellow crystal to sparkle and glow brightly. The cheering for their returned leader redoubled in intensity and volume.

149

After that brief display, Hal hurried down through the dimly lit narrow tunnels the dwarves had quickly cut into the mountain ridge. There was barely enough room for them as they doubled-back and continued down the steps.

Every so often, a rough cut tunnel would branch away into the darkness.

“Expansions,” Noth explained as they passed another. Hal could see far enough into that one to still catch the various pickaxes lying at the base of a half-broken hunk of stone. “This entire ridge should be protected in time.”

“Turning a mountain into a castle?” Hal asked, a bit skeptical. The idea was, of course, preposterous. Nobody could do that. Not even dwarves.

Noth shrugged. “That isn’t my decision to make.” She tossed her raven black hair over one shoulder and looked at him with her golden eyes. There was a twinkle of playfulness to them that seemed at odds with their current situation.

“Aren’t we going to end up right in the middle of the gap?” Hal asked as they continued their descent.

“There is another path on the third level, it stretches back behind the wall. Bardan rigged drop stones nearly six feet thick that can be collapsed to secure the tunnel if anything manages to get up here.” Noth turned sharply on the next landing and they took a tunnel that had flickering torches set into cracks in the roughly hewn stone every thirty feet.

It was about that time that Hal realized something. “You never left the party.”

Noth stiffened a little, but otherwise never turned around. “I didn’t,” she agreed.

“But you could have been fighting,” he said. “You had no idea when I would be back after-”

Noth whirled on him, forcing him to stop suddenly. Her golden eyes were aflame. “You wouldn’t abandon me. Us. You wouldn’t abandon us.” Noth’s pale cheeks were burning. “I knew you would be back. And I was right, wasn’t I? All that’s left is for you to decide who you want for the other four members.”

Just as fast, Noth turned back around and marched down the gently sloping tunnel.

Hal, momentarily stunned, hurried to catch up. “Bring me up to speed.”

“Durvin is in charge of the wall, Rondo and Angram the eastern parapet, with Bardan and Yesel on the western side. I figured most of the Rangers would work best up on the high ground,” Noth said.

“Up there,” she continued, “they could deal the most damage while staying out of the thick of things. Besides, anybody high above is going to need better accuracy than those on the wall.”

“And it’s parties of Rangers?” Hal asked.

“They organized themselves,” Noth said. “I didn’t think it prudent to meddle.”

Hal nodded, but he wasn’t so sure about that. As Noth explained where their forces were arrayed, a plan started to form in his head. This wasn’t a simple thing of forming a single party that worked best.

Their forces would need to be spread out, and while Noth had done an excellent job, Hal could already see ways in which he could improve their defenses. Whether it was his Tactician skill or from watching so many movies or reading books, the changes he thought of seemed obvious to him.

The tunnel took a sharp turn to the left, and they found themselves going down yet another set of stairs that emptied out into the darkening twilight. True to Noth’s word, they were behind the wall. Two koblins stood guard on either side of the opening.

When they saw Hal, they saluted, each of them smacking their koblin masks with their mitts. “Havior returns! Glory-days. Kobbie-friends already stuffed His Most Squarishness into the wall for feasty-times.”

Hal paused and turned to the two koblins. “Could one of you run and tell Athagan I will be at the wall in a few minutes?”

The koblins nearly fell all over themselves, trying to answer him first. Hal did his best to calm them and give them his message.

Unlike the keinse, the koblins were remarkably smart people and remembered his orders verbatim. Hal sent them off, and instead of going up to the wall after them, he turned to the north, toward the Settlement.

A lot had changed since he was away. The Settlement was different, the Guild had Leveled Up, and so had the Manaseed. Unfortunately, he couldn’t access any of that while they were in a state of warfare.

But he could enact the abilities the Settlement had at its disposal, and with their boon of Elysian Points he could do a lot to bolster their defenses.

The worst was yet to come, he could feel it in his bones. The wall was holding easily. And that didn’t seem right. With so few people, they should be nearly overrun.

“Where are you going, Hal?” Noth asked. “I thought you wanted to get on the wall?”

Hal shook his head, Noth hurrying to get alongside him. Something she found more challenging to do as Hal used Convergence to increase his AGI and his speed.

“I need to check on the plants.”

“The plants?” Noth echoed, and then a moment later, she understood. “Do you think they’re ready?” There was an edge of excitement to her voice. After all, it wasn’t often that you had Treants fighting with you.

“I’m not sure,” Hal admitted. He hoped they were, but he also wasn’t going to unnecessarily risk them. “That’s what I’m going to check on. Shouldn’t take too long.”

Beedle fluttered overhead, keeping an eye on them and largely out of sight now that it was dark. The Disara, on the other hand, had stalked down the rough mountainside and was now loping easily to catch up to Hal and Noth.

The sudden appearance of the beast startled Hal and Noth for a moment until Hal realized the truth of the matter.

“New friends of yours?” Noth asked.

“One,” Hal agreed. He hiked a thumb at the Disara and its glowing Gold Kol’thil brand upon its forehead. “That one will stay loyal until tomorrow, but the one above us? His name is Beedle.”

“Beetle?”

“Beedle, with a ‘D,’ not entirely original, I know, but it seems to fit him. There was a game that I used to love playing as a kid, he reminds me of that character. Always lugging around loot and treasure.”

“One of these days, I would like to play a video game,” Noth said wistfully.

“Once things are settled, maybe Orrittam can smuggle something in for us,” Hal said as they reached the glade in record time.

Just as before, a haunting, soothing melody filled the air and welcomed Hal. A sense of love, warmth, and pride filled him but also fear and trepidation.

The Manaseed knew something was wrong. Despite the darkness of night all around them, there were motes of glowing sapphire light that danced in the air, illuminating the space.

Pools of water glistened in the light, tiny rivers babbled soothingly to each other. And there at the center of the glade was the Manaseed. No longer a tiny sapling, it was nearly 8-feet tall with silvery bark and wide emerald-green heart-shaped leaves with traces of silver.

Hal did his best to soothe the Manaseed’s worries. He would never let any harm come to it. He would die before that happened.

Reading his heart, the Manaseed was comforted. Hal could no sooner lie to it than he could himself.

Turning his attention to the various planted items, Hal noticed with a heavy heart that they were still growing. The Wortlings were formed, but he didn’t know how much damage a single Wortling could do on its own. And if it died, he risked losing it for good.

Pale of bark like the fledgling Manatree, the Treants and the Wortlings were beautiful to look at. The [Treant Seeds] he had planted were sprouting into Treant Saplings, small reedy little things that could whip fiercely with their green braches but do little else.

There was one that was almost full-grown, though. The [Bag of Treant Cuttings] had grown into a small pale barked tree nearly 10-feet tall. Hal regarded it curiously, and likewise felt the gaze of the Treant fall upon him.

A brief sparkling of sapphire motes drifted and alighted upon the Treant. Hal felt the Treant’s approval, a fondness like an extension of the Manaseed exuded from the creature.

Though no words were used, Hal knew that the Treant would do as he asked without the need to force it. They were, in a way, a part of the Manaseed.

“I’m going to need your help,” Hal said to the Treant. “When we’re done, you can return here and continue to grow until you’re big and strong with all your younger siblings around you.”

The Treant liked that. And like the Manaseed, it sensed there was something wrong. It wanted to do its part.

Hal only hoped that he wasn’t making a mistake pulling it out so soon. He had hoped for more, but a single Treant - even one as small as his - would have a role to play.

150

Beedle alighted atop the Palebark Treant. He quickly found a niche between its broad silver-rimmed leaves and disappeared within the creature’s branches. If the treant was bothered by the beetle’s presence, the creature never showed it.

Hal had expected a more violent reaction upon seeing it, considering the predator relationship of an insect like Beedle to a treant. But Beedle didn’t attack, and the Palebark Treant hardly minded the intrusion.

There was something different about the Palebark Treant. As they left the Manaseed’s glade, there was a shift. For a moment the treant paused, as if realizing for the first time it was leaving its home.

Hal slowed and looked over his shoulder at the creature. He could feel it similar to how he could feel the Manaseed. It was somewhere between the bond he shared with Noth and the Manaseed, and the magical tether of Dominate.

While he couldn’t control the Palebark Treant, he felt it was more than eager to follow his commands.

The difference between the Palebark Treant, and the Disara loping some twenty feet away in the darkness, was that he could command the Disara to go against its desires.

If he pushed the treant too hard, it could decide not to follow his commands. It might even turn on him, though he didn’t think that was likely. Least of all because there was a thread of the Manaseed within the creature.

That much was obvious by its changed form. The Palebark Treant shook itself from its stupor and easily caught up with its long strides. At only 10-feet tall, the treant was a runt compared to the creatures Hal had Dominated back in Murkmire.

Even still, it was fast - and strong - enough that as it began to overtake Hal and Noth, the treant reached down and scooped them up. It was as gentle as a mother with the way it cradled Hal and Noth.

Once they were secured, the treant showed its true speed. Even the Disara’s lean form struggled to keep up with the long loping strides of the Palebark Treant.

In short order, they were past the Town Hall and soon after, they found themselves at the wall.

Sounds of battle and shouted orders filtered out across the chill night air. Tents were strung up several hundred feet back from the wall with hastily constructed wooden pathways to the various sections of the wall.

Ashera was directing a group of white-robed individuals, one of them was a karak from the Kweh Gang that wanted to be a healer. Ashera motioned for them to enter the nearest tent. When she caught sight of Hal and the others, her soft green eyes widened at the sight.

Being carried gingerly by the Palebark Treant, the pair must have made quite a spectacle.

“You can set us down now,” Hal said to the treant. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Much welcome,” it said in its slow, grinding voice.

Ashera looked from Hal to the treant, then back to Hal. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

Hal couldn’t help but grin. The ever-present sound of fighting dampened his mood, however. “I had hoped to have more help, but this Palebark Treant is special and will be more than helpful, especially if things turn sour. Did you set up these triage tents?”

Ashera’s pale cheeks blushed a little at the tone of approval in Hal’s voice. She straightened her spine and stood taller. “I did. I’m organizing our relief.”

Motioning to the nearest tent, she beckoned them around the side to an open flap. There was a small warm fire set in a metal brazier in the center of the tent. Several makeshift beds were stretched out along the sides. Tables held all manner of glass vials filled with glowing liquids of varying hue.

“Everybody who could make potions was conscripted for making healing ingredients so we could be as ready as possible,” Ashera explained. “There are five tents in total. As many people who are skilled or would like to be skilled in medicine are on standby.

“You can mark them by their white robes. Unfortunately, we do not have many that can be taken from their duties on the walls. We have more koblins and karaks attending the wounded than we do people with proper digits but we must all work together if we are to survive.”

Ashera was right. They barely had enough to man the full length of the walls, and that was if every able-bodied person was on the wall. 750 feet was not a small distance when they hardly had 100 people capable of fighting.

Several of the white-robed individuals gave a slight nod of respect their way. The karak made a chirping sound. Their clothing was simple, with a golden sash draping from hip to shoulder jam-packed with healing potions of all kinds.

They weren’t unarmed either. Many of them wielded small, one-handed crossbows with the trademark angular design of dwarven make. More than one had a silvery dagger in a sheath at their back as well.

As they passed the tent, making their way toward the center of the wall, Hal saw several people sitting around the brazier in the middle of the tent. A few of them were eating, others were just relaxing.

“What are they doing?” Noth asked, slightly confused.

“They’re resting,” Hal said, nodding his approval to Ashera before she could explain. “We can’t keep everybody fighting at once all the time, they’ll tire out. Ashera’s using the regenerative powers of the braziers - I’m guessing they have the same effect as a campfire - to help those who are tired to regenerate their resources faster. Smart.”

“I am glad you agree,” Ashera said. Their boots clacked loudly on the roughly hewn planks laid out as a makeshift roadway. “We have carts made up to help ferry any wounded away from the wall and to help replenish supplies.

“With the tents, we can keep a few people in reserve at all times. Our goal, as per the Guild Mission, is to survive the night. That requires a different mindset when defending. We are not trying to destroy or slaughter our enemy. They seem endless anyway. All we need to do is last until the sun rises.”

Noth looked at Hal, then back at Ashera with a wide smile. “I knew you were perfect for the job!”

Ashera ducked her head and did her best to look away from Noth. “Thank you,” she said under her breath.

“I take it you’re also able to run messages?” Hal asked.

“Yes,” Ashera said. “Noth tasked me with setting up logistics for the battle. Insofar as much as I could. Athagan has been instrumental in assisting me, he has a great head for this. I would not have been able to do nearly as much as I have without him. There he is now.”

Athagan was coming down the sloping ramp that led up onto the top of the flat wall. He caught sight of Hal and his group, his eyes clearly marking the Palebark Treant, then the sleek form of the Disara at Hal’s side.

“Just the man I were lookin’ fer, yer late, lad!” Athagan said by way of greeting. “The wall’s holding, fer now. But the beasties aren’t going nowhere, and the whole of the Shiverglades seems to want to break down our work.

“The walls are takin’ heavy damage, Hal. Ain’t no way we make it to dawn unless we get some relief so me boys can repair some of the damage. Unless ye got a bright idea?”

Hal was just thinking about that. “I’ve got an idea for that,” he said, then turned to Ashera. “I need you to get a message out to every party that’s been assembled so far. Firstly, all orders for the wall are to come from Durvin. Secondly, every single party needs at least one Ranger.

“I don’t care who it is, as long as every available Ranger is in a party, that’s all that matters. If their Ultimate is an explosive or lobbed attack, they can elect to stay up on the parapets if they wish, but anybody else needs to be down on the wall.”

Ashera nodded. “And what if they already have Ultimates charged? Swapping out of a party will cause them to lose at least some of it, even if they are instantly invited to another.”

“Have them use it.”

“Immediately?”

“Fire at will on any targets they choose.”

Ashera nodded and took off toward the nearest tent.

Hal watched her go, then turned back to look at the Palebark Treant. A terrible, reckless idea began to form in his head. When he shifted his gaze back to the wall, to the men and women defending their home, he came to a decision.

Athagan looked appraisingly at Hal. “Well, out with it lad. I don’t much like that look in yer eye, reminds me o’ Durvin when the fool dwarf is about to rush headlong into a pit full o’ demons.”

Your Leadership has risen to Level 29(34).

+1% Party damage (+34%).

+2% Leadership efficacy (+68%).

Your Tactician Skill has risen to Level 13.

+1% Planning efficacy (+13%).

+1% Ambush & Trap success (+13%).

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics (-6.5%).

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters (+6.5%).

Hal pulled free [Emissary] and held it up. It was almost full of mana again. It would be enough. “Something like that,” he said with a grin.

“Besal?”

“I’m still recovering, but I can help.” Hal felt Besal open up his wellspring of mana to him.

He turned to Athagan. “I’m going to buy as much time for you as I can. Call up anybody you need to do repairs now.”

151

“Hal, this is a really, really bad idea,” Noth said from about 8 feet below.

“I know,” Hal said.

Sitting in the Palebark Treant’s raised branch, curled up like an oversized catcher’s mitt, Hal couldn’t really disagree with her. Up on top of the wall, and with over 10 feet above the wall’s edge, he could see the battlefield ahead of him.

And it didn’t look good. Somehow, there were even more monsters clogging the gap. They needed to be cleared out.

Using Shadesight, Hal could see almost all the way to the Shiverglades beyond. There was no end to the sheer influx of beasts and monsters. He could hardly tell the difference between them.

There were color-shifting cats that Hal recognized as Disara among the Morbolgers, wolves, and strange plantoid monsters. Golems of stone, mud, and vine stomped their way toward the Settlement alongside swift, furry spiders. Burrowing worms broke through the surface two dozen feet from the wall when the ground became too stony.

Luckily, those were easily killed when they were exposed to the defenders’ bolts, arrows, hammers, and rocks. But there were just so many. Hundreds of monsters were flooding through the gap.

The walls were holding, but for how much longer? Inspecting them, he could see many of the walls - particularly the center ones - had taken quite a beating and were already dipping below 70% bHP (Building HP).

He needed to buy Athagan enough time for some repairs to get done. But before that, he reached out to the Manaseed and activated Rallied Defense.

Every single person in his sight was filled with a shimmering silvery light that washed over them. It cost most of the EP the Manaseed had gained, but there was no better use for it.

You gain the effect of Rallied Defense.

+20% Damage of Citizens within influence range.

-20% Damage taken by Citizens within influence range.

Duration: 24hrs.

That should help a little bit.

He would try to keep Mana Repair in his back pocket, but he knew before long that he would need it. The Palisades had varying bHPs, but most of them were over 1,000 thanks to the boosts provided by Tactician.

Mana Repair would heal 100 bHP for every point of EP spent. That would allow him to repair roughly 8 Palisades to full. But that was a last resort, only to be used when the fighting grew so feverish that nobody could be risked to repair the wall.

Hal looked down at the Palebark Treant. “Ready, pal?”

“Ready.”

“I can’t believe I’m agreeing with the Reaper,” Besal said into his mind. “But this really is insane, even for you.”

“Duly noted.”

“Launch!” Hal commanded.

The Palebark Treant cocked its branch back like a shot put thrower. With a burst of strength, its branches groaning with the strain, the treant launched Hal through the air with eye-watering speed.

With Besal’s Second Verse still active, Hal summoned wings of shadow and eldritch. He Spliced insect essence in place of aberration as his third essence.

Spreading his wings wide, shadowy black things sparking with red lightning that kept him from twisting and spinning about, Hal summoned an insect-aspected Bomb Toss.

In the dark of night, he felt that the shadow and eldritch were stronger yet lighter. Unlike his aberration wings he first made, these were less strenuous to flap, buying him even more airtime.

Coasting on the rapidly depleting momentum from the Palebark Treant’s throw, Hal soared high above the gap clogged with monsters. For once, he felt free, above it all.

Farther into the gap than he remembered, Hal could see the shimmering barrier of the Manaseed’s shielding that prevented Manastorms from encroaching upon its protection.

Unfortunately, the creatures that the Shiverglades sent at them were able to entirely ignore the barrier. He passed through the protective barrier, feeling a brief sense of loss. His Founder’s Day buff faded, and he banked hard to the left, doubling back.

The welcoming embrace of the Manaseed’s protection flooded over him. His Founder’s Day buff returned, bouncing his max MP up to 1,043. It didn’t return the MP he lost from passing beyond the barrier, though.

But he hadn’t spent long enough within the range of the Manaseed’s barrier in order to recover too much MP over his old max of 835. It was a good reminder to stay within the confines of the shield, however.

He dropped one Bomb Toss after the other onto the clusters of plantoid monsters below. Curiously, he channeled eldritch essence into a Bomb Toss and let loose another incendiary orb.

It sailed toward the clump of monsters nearly a hundred feet below and detonated into a devastating swirling mass of red and black energy. The ground withered and changed where the swirling red-black flames stretched and broke across the land.

Hal had never seen anything like it.

Almost as surprising was the effect it had on his wings. As if caught in a sudden updraft, he felt pushed skyward without having to flap his wings at all.

Catching on to the unique interplay between his wings and the energy coming off his eldritch Bomb Toss, Hal began to lob several bombs one after the other in a line in front of his flight path.

Each blast decimated the creatures below, feeding him a steady stream of EXP and buoying him up even higher into the air. Every kill granted him 1% of his max MP, thanks to his upgraded [Shadowblessed Spaulder].

Unfortunately, the MP return was roughly the same as it was before. The difference was, as his max MP went higher, the return would be greater. It would grow with him.

For now, he still gained just a little over 10 MP per kill. With Bomb Toss’ relatively meager 35 MP cost now cut down to 25, he could keep up his bombing runs for a long time.

At a single point of strain, and with a limit of 50, he had plenty of casts remaining before he had to worry about gaining a Level of Strain Affliction. He didn’t even know if that was going to be much of a problem with Besal aiding him as he was.

Glancing at his Strain, it hardly seemed to move with each cast of Bomb Toss. The first 2 Strain Affliction Levels would only make him more powerful, but then he’d need to be careful.

Though the defenders of the Settlement were not great in number, they were quick to take advantage of the weakened enemies Hal left in his wake. Catapults lobbed their payloads, Rangers fired volleys of arrows, and koblins shot strange firework-like projectiles out of colorful tubes.

Each Bomb Toss kept him aloft with minimal use of SP and left pockets of decimated enemies in his wake. Spines and gobs of acidic ooze reached for him as the enemies below spotted him. It wasn’t hard; his wings were emitting a trail of nebulous red lightning that lingered like an afterimage.

As high up as he was, their attacks couldn’t reach him, and the defenders took advantage of the break in the assault. Slowed, the attackers were forced to split their attention between Hal’s devastating rain of explosive spells and the wall ahead.

Every Bomb Toss left behind a circular patch that continued to burn for several long minutes with red and black fire. Every spell cast forced the creatures to either take damage by walking over the lingering flames, or to move through an ever-tightening and winding pattern.

Hal swept back and forth, lobbing Bomb Toss with as much precision as he could manage. Like playing one of those tower defense games, he was trying to make a snaking path free of biting flames. The monsters, little more than unthinking beasts, avoided the patches of black flame as he had hoped.

They doubled back on themselves through the serpentine path he made, making them easy targets for the defenders on the wall and up on top of the parapets.

A boulder flung through the air 30 feet to Hal’s right and took out two slimy creatures in a shower of goo. The boulder skipped across the stony ground and rolled forward like a bowling ball, right over the patch of burning black-red flame.

The half-ton boulder was instantly set ablaze with black-red flames as if it had been doused in gasoline. It continued to roll, spreading the flames in a straight line, ruining his work but bowling into dozens of monsters and setting them on fire.

Damaged, but not mortally, the monsters fled from the licking black-red flames. As they did, they bumped into other monsters, before Hal could cast another Bomb Toss, the ground below was a patchwork of red and black fire.

Hal banked hard to the east and finished his line of fire right at the base of the wall to provide a buffer for the men and women that would be charged with its repair. The walls were quickly cleared of any lingering threats that managed to get through.

Ladders were dropped, dwarves, koblins, and even a few karaks bearing heavy burdens of materials landed on the ground in front of the Earthen Walls and Palisades.

152

Hal dropped 20 feet and nearly faltered completely as a familiar twist in his guts announced that he had finally crossed the first threshold.

Strain Affliction Lv.1 (Taxed).

You have taxed your body beyond normal limitations. Channeling Beast Magic has its costs and each use of the magic warps your body in new and unforeseen ways. Using Beast Magic beyond this point risks more than your health.

Beast Magic Efficacy +20% | Beast Magic Damage +20%

MP Cost +10% | Strain Accumulation +15%

With the magical updrafts keeping him aloft, Hal continued his bombing without reprisal. And at Strain Affliction Level 1, he was outputting even more damage than usual.

His Bomb Toss usually dealt around 380 damage, provided he wasn’t exploiting a weakness. His eldritch-aspected Bomb Toss was dealing around 610, and that was before he gained the Taxed status from hitting Strain Affliction Level 1.

He wasn’t sure why it was so high. Did it have something to do with Splice II?

There wasn’t much time to figure it out. Still, his first level of Strain, he was doing a ridiculous 760 damage per eldritch-aspected Bomb Toss, he hardly needed anybody to clean up the stragglers afterward.

Monsters were dying by the score, but his MP was falling steadily below 40%. His strain continued to climb, but he needed to buy more time for the workers. His Disara rushed back and forth along the front of the wall, beating back the monsters that came too close.

Doubling back, Hal watched as the Palebark Treant was now aiming for the burning patches of ground. It chucked boulders the size of small cars with unerring accuracy that the small catapults couldn’t touch.

Boulders and debris soared in the air beneath Hal, and he couldn’t help but feel like Besal had been right.

“I told you,” Besal said smugly. “Our power is beyond what they can do. And the most impressive thing? You are hardly in command of a tenth of the power you could have at your fingertips. Your Kol’thil cannot touch the raw power of a Beastborne. Do not forget that.”

Hal didn’t need to reply. He knew Besal was right, or at the very least, he (mostly) agreed with Besal on that point. Beastborne had eclipsed anything he expected.

He suspected that using his Spliced essence with Bomb Toss incurred some damage bonus akin to using a spell from that monster family. As with most of his newfound powers, he would have to put them through rigorous testing later.

Once the Settlement was safe.

Looking around, Hal was having a hard time believing that the battle was so thoroughly turned around. Monsters funneled into the gap, but they were being killed at a rate that was simply staggering.

Their bodies lay thick about the gap, forcing their allies to climb over them like miniature hills. Hills that were blasted away moments later by an expert throw by the Palebark Treant, or one of the catapults with a payload of boulders and stone.

Rangers, spread out along the wall, pelted with unerring precision, taking out any monster that survived the initial salvos of Hal’s Bomb Toss and the thrown boulders.

The walls were quickly being repaired, and the Rallied Defense buff would be active for the remainder of the assault. The Shiverglades had thrown its best at them, a horde of monsters that would have toppled any other group.

But the Bravers were ready for the Shiverglades. They were up to the task of defending their home, and they would not be beaten.

Twisting away from the combat, Hal tossed one final Bomb Toss over his shoulder at a pile of bodies to ignite them. Red-black flames crawled all over the corpses of monsters. Monsters looking for safe passage over the bodies of their fallen companions soon found the bite of those eldritch flames.

Spreading his wings wide to catch the cold night air, Hal slowly drifted toward the center segment of the wall. He hit the top of the wall awkwardly and would have stumbled over if Durvin wasn’t there to steady him.

The surly dwarf was in full shining plate mail with his massive greataxe strapped to his back, already stained with black blood. “Aren’t ye a sight fer sore eyes!” Durvin bellowed. “The bards’ll be singing o’ this night for generations! When’d ye learn to fly, boy?”

Hal folded his wings on his back, feeling his strain near to hitting the next threshold. His MP was drained, but with Besal’s wellspring of mana available to him, he tapped into it with Assimilation bringing himself back to full MP.

“I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve yet,” Hal said, clapping the dwarf companionably on the shoulder. “You’ve held the wall admirably. Whose idea was the catapults? I didn’t even know we had the schematics for them.”

“Aye, that were the gnome’s bright idea,” Durvin said, putting his hands on his hips. “Brilliant mind, Rondo. Bit strange, but a good enough sort. Fer a gnome.”

“For a gnome,” Hal echoed with a chuckle.

Rondo was an odd one. He had been kidnapped by Noth and Mira in a confused attempt to get him to come along with Hal’s exodus from Murkmire. When Hal learned of it and agreed to set him free, suddenly, Rondo wanted to stay.

The more Hal tried to push him away, to do the right thing, the more the old gnome wanted to come along with them!

Of course, that was before Hal realized that Rondo knew Thirty-seven, one of Hal’s doppelgangers from Rinbast’s timeline scheme. And though Hal was absolutely sure that Rondo knew more than he let on about Thirty-seven and his relationship to Hal, the gnome never betrayed a hint of suspicion about Hal.

Shaking his head of the memories, Hal turned back toward the south and the corpse-choked 750-foot wide passage to their home. Back at full MP, Hal wasn’t about to be content to rest on his laurels.

He reached deep within himself, to the Manaseed that had joined with his soul. There, he could feel the spell he wanted to enact. An orb of light, like a bubble the size of a beachball of swirling green and blue, appeared in Hal’s hand.

With a thought, Hal cast Manatorpor.

The sphere of swirling color flew out from his palm. As it did, the spell exponentially doubled. It was far faster than he was used to. Casting it within the confines of the Manaseed’s barrier doubled its strength and range.

Rather than a bubble with a radius of 30 feet, it increased to 60 feet. From end to end, the sphere of swirling colors eventually expanded to 120 feet. The sphere just barely touched the wall, extending out to its full length.

Hal’s breathing quickened at the strain of casting the spell. At 208 MP, Manatorpor was his most draining spell. But it was also one of the most powerful.

By casting it within the influence of the Manaseed he supercharged the spell. Instead of having to reapply it in 100 minutes, it would last 200 minutes. He could go 3 hours in between needing to reapply the spell.

With his MP regeneration supercharged by a brazier, and by the Founder’s Day buff, he would be able to keep the spells up along the full length of the wall.

Noth stalked along the wall toward him as the last of the hammers rang out on the Palisade below. A koblin scurried up the ladder as two men grabbed it and pulled it up after the koblin.

“That was….” Noth said, her golden eyes sparkling despite the hard set to her face. “I want to be mad at you! You scared me and did something very, very stupid!”

“And yet?” Hal asked, trying to keep the mirth from his voice.

Noth’s face flushed. “But you flew! And then you just….” She motioned with a black-gauntleted hand toward the gap. The devastation was still clear even from here.

The gap wasn’t cleared, the battle wasn’t suddenly over just because Hal set fire to everything between the wall and the Shiverglades. But the difference was stark. Few monsters made it to the wall, and those that did hardly were able to damage it before they were overwhelmed.

He had provided enough of a breather for the fighters to resupply, and to repair the walls.

“You really weren’t kidding about needing to do your Quest on your own. That’s some power,” she said, falling into step alongside him and Durvin.

Hal stopped, concentrated, and cast another Manatorpor. His goal was to line the walls with the slowing spheres of magic. Any monsters that made it to the wall would find themselves slowed, and their stamina usage increased.

Meanwhile, his allies - and most importantly, their attacks - would be unaffected. The whole wall would take over 1,200 MP. He would just have enough if he drained [Emissary].

At least, that was the plan.

A horn blasted somewhere up above, answered by its twin to the west. Hal turned a questioning gaze to Durvin.

The fiery-bearded dwarf’s previously pleased expression was gone. “That’s the sound o’ trouble.”

153

“What do you mean, ‘trouble’?” Hal asked.

Durvin directed his gaze with one thick, metal-encased finger to the south. “Me guessing is that.”

Hal followed Durvin’s direction.

A dark brume rolled up from the south like a tidal wave. It blocked out the Shiverglades beyond. Wherever it touched, the fires were snuffed, and their visibility dropped to nothing.

It gained speed and strength at an alarming rate. In an eyeblink, half of the gap was washed in the roiling miasma. Two heartbeats later, the darkness rolled over the Manaseed’s barrier.

The stars were wiped out from the sky. An impossible, impenetrable gloom descended upon them, unlike anything Hal had ever seen.

There was no bandlight, no moonlight from any of Aldim’s moons. It was like they were plunged into the Abyss.

Hal felt the icy grip of fear clench at his chest at the memory of that place. Then it began to ease as he realized it wasn’t the same. His Shadesight allowed him to see into the roiling murk.

Though it was magically darkened, he could see through it like a foggy twilight. Shapes began to shift and writhe in the dark, something wasn’t quite right but the sound of rushing flames stole his attention. Fires, torches, and various light sources began to spring up along the wall.

They had prepared for this.

“Not to worry, lad,” Durvin said, patting him on the arm. “Me lads will sort this all out. There isn’t a dwarf about that fears the dark. I reckon them koblin-folk are the same way. But fer any that need it, we got plenty o’ light to last us until the dawn, don’t ye doubt!”

Durvin stomped away, barking orders.

All along the wall, braziers were ignited. Pools of warm light banished the dark, but it seemed to press in on each of them. The light didn’t seem to have as much strength as it should.

All the while, the sound of monsters came from the south. They could no longer see their enemy. None of them approached the wall, though there should have been more than a score approaching by that point.

From the dark came unnerving howling and wailing as if something was attacking the monsters.

It reminded him of the Abyss in other ways. There was something dark and ephemeral about it, alive. Through his connection to the Manaseed, he could feel the miasma push against the barrier around the Settlement.

Worst of all, Hal could feel the barrier give under all that pressure. It was slight, an inch at most, but it was there. The Manaseed was giving ground to the darkness that had totally smothered them.

Remembering the Abyss made Hal look to his forearm, where he knew the Golden Kol’thil would be glowing beneath his bracers. He concentrated, clenching his left hand into a fist and tapping into the power of his Kol’thil.

For the first time that Hal could ever remember, he intentionally summoned the image of the Kol’thil. With conscious effort, he pushed the symbol to the back of his hand and set it to glowing a brilliant gold-and-silver.

The image of a moonlit Manatree stood out starkly at the center of the Gold Kol’thil symbol. At the same time, as in reaction to Hal’s defiance of the dark around him, the Palebark Treant began to glow.

Its bark gave off a soft, gentle moonlight that increased in strength and intensity as Hal raised his fist to the darkness.

Heads swiveled to regard the Palebark Treant, now giving off enough light that it blotted out the braziers nearby that were hungrily burning in their iron pens.

Those same heads swung around to Hal, as he began to channel his Kol’thil into one of the new Sigils he was gifted to by the very man that had led him out of the Abyss.

It had to be connected. Somehow, Feril had to know he would need this spell.

Hal fell within himself, shutting his eyes and thrusting his arm out, palm open and facing the blanketed sky.

A small bead of light drifted out from his palm. His Kol’thil began to spark, golden lightning lanced from the back of his palm and into the bead of shining light. It blossomed from a bead into a small cue-ball sized orb of blazing brilliance.

Hal could see it through his closed eyelids as if he were ten feet from the sun itself. His vision was washed in red as the orb continued to expand, growing larger and brighter with each strike of lightning.

He sent it skyward, trying to piece together how to perform the Sigil properly while he was in the middle of casting it. Kol’thil Sigils were unlike anything else he ever experienced.

They weren’t spells, not precisely, and yet they had much of the form and function of one. Instead, there were a hundred different ways to enact a Sigil, each way provided a slight alteration that would change the outcome.

Most of the ways he could alter his Sigils were so minor that they didn’t make much of a difference. This Sigil was different, or perhaps he was different. Hal couldn’t tell which it was, but the end result was the same.

He could condense the orb, collapse it upon itself to explode outward in a blinding supernova. Alternatively, he could keep increasing its size and set it up in the sky to light the way.

As much as he wanted to push back the black miasma with a show of power, he felt certain that it would be a temporary measure. And then they would be without its bright light.

There was no assurance that the Sigil Feril had given him was permanent. Hal hoped it was, he wanted to explore the two Sigils that were so unlike anything he had access to so far. But he had to be responsible and use the gift in the way that would provide the greatest benefit.

Enacting Iron Kol’thil: Daybreak, Hal expanded the orb into a miniature sun somewhere out in the darkness beyond. He immediately felt a backlash snap against his willpower, pushing it and bending it until he thought it would break.

Agony lanced through his body like an electric arc. His muscles knotted up, Hal’s teeth shut so fast that he clipped off a bit of his tongue and tasted blood. His HP dropped in half, then halved again until it hovered around 200.

Somehow, Hal managed to retain control of the Sigil but when he opened his eyes he was on his knees reaching out with one hand toward the tiny sun he had conjured out in the gap.

The darkness had rolled back. Wherever the intense glare of that sun touched, the miasma evaporated.

Hal was so taken by the majesty of the sun he had created that he only noticed several moments later what it had done. Not just the way it illuminated all but the mouth of the opening to the Shiverglades, but what it revealed.

Black threads that Hal recognized belatedly as voidmist clung to the shadows that even the brilliant miniature sun couldn’t blast away. Those black threads of voidmist entered the piles of corpses, reanimating the dead. Changing them into something more monstrous.

The countless monsters that they had thought destroyed, rose once more. Faint dark glowing lines traced up and down their enlarged bodies. New appendages sprouted at random, and as they did, the creatures howled in pain.

Spiders were mutated into the shape of a Morbolger. Great worms that chewed through the ground suddenly sprouted grotesque legs that wriggled on the ground, propelling them with alarming speed at the stunned defenders.

The walls shook with their tremendous blows.

Hardened protrusions formed over the gaping toothed maws of the worms, and only when the wall shook again did Hal realize what they were doing. He pointed at the worms, raising his voice over the sound of the din. “The worms! Take down the worms, they’re battering rams!”

Morbolgers mutated with spiders skittered up the sides of the sheer walls along the gap, racing toward the occupied defenders. A few broke off and climbed toward the parapets, where most of the attackers wouldn’t expect an assault.

He never tried to Dominate so many things at such a distance. Reaching out with his left hand, Hal could feel the Soul of Shae’kathoth stir within his breast. It made him feel filthy, oily, but he would gladly suffer much more if it meant his friends were spared.

Even as he reached out with Dominate, Hal used Assimilation to pull HP from the Disara nearby. The creature let out a strangled snarl of pain as Hal tried to heal himself with its MP, SP, and finally its HP.

If using Daybreak nearly knocked him out, trying to Dominate so many targets at such a distance might very well kill him. Hal shut his eyes in concentration. A burst of golden lightning spiderwebbed across the air toward the distant walls and the creatures racing to devour his friends.

154

Hal heard a voice cry out, he thought it was Noth’s, and then pain and blackness swallowed him whole as the Kol’thil Bleed claimed its due.

It felt like he had rolled around in rusty razor blades coated with acid. He kept hold of a tenuous thread, though he couldn’t remember why. Only that it was important. He could not let it go. He would not.

The pain went on for what felt like years.

When it finally abated, he was still lost in the darkness. Only now, there were dozens of golden threads in the black stretching out into the distance.

Hal reached out to one thread and touched it. As soon as he did, he found himself staring at a Ranger, he thought it was Yesel, but his vision was messed up.

It was blurry and fractured with half a dozen different reflections of the same blonde-haired elf from slightly different angles.

“H…Hal?” Yesel asked, a shadow fell upon her but was illuminated with a golden light. A golden light that Hal could see reflected in her bright eyes. He could just barely make out the Gold Kol’thil through the reflection of it in Yesel’s eyes.

“Yesel?” he asked, his voice monstrous and gravely.

“By the gods,” she whispered. “It is you!” She turned to the other defenders on the ruined parapet. “Don’t shoot any marked with a glowing symbol, they’re friendly.”

Removing his hands from that thread, Hal touched the next in line. He saw a shifting, watery image form very low to the ground. His vision swam as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

There was a wall in front of him, but it was battered and nearly broken. People and karaks rushed atop it in a frantic pace trying to beat back monsters that scaled the walls with disturbing ease.

Hal shifted his gaze to the side and realized his body was long and low to the ground like a snake. But instead of slithering, he had a multitude of hairy insectile legs carrying him forward at the nearest monster.

His head smashed into the disturbing lump of a creature, some purple oozing thing the size of a small school bus. The diamond-hard substance at his front punched a hole through the creature, and he skittered out the other side.

Each thread held a monstrous abomination, and as Hal cycled through them, he began to remember what had happened. He must have taken so much damage that he either died or was knocked unconscious.

Splitting his attention, Hal controlled the monsters to turn on their fellows. In his haze of pain, the creatures had remained under his control but had not acted.

That brief reprieve had saved many lives, as the other monsters had to move around their suddenly frozen brethren. Now, Hal turned his controlled monsters on the others.

They lashed out with tongue, tooth, and claw. Insectile creatures mutated with plantoid matter rushed about the gap. The light from the Daybreak Sigil didn’t bother him in these forms, but the other creatures smoked slightly.

Up close, Hal could see - through his monsters’ eyes - that the other monsters were slowly being burned. Wisps of smoke came off their bubbling skin, but it wasn’t enough.

Even as Hal turned dozens of creatures against the enemy, he was aware that he was fighting a losing battle. For every monster he felled, three more rose up to take its place.

He hadn’t placed the Manatorpor bubbles as he had wanted, and now he had no access to any of his Beastborne spells. Not for the first time, he wondered if he had died. What would happen to him if he was dead while Dominating these monsters?

Would his consciousness flit about, from one creature to the other like it was now until he could be revived? He had no HUD, no MP, nor HP that he could see. Though he could sense the general wellbeing of the creatures he Dominated.

Curiously, he reached out to the Manaseed and found he could still sense his connection to it. If anything, it was stronger than ever.

He wasn’t sure whether what, precisely, that portended.

Glancing at the exterior of the Settlement’s wall through compound insectile eyes, Hal enacted Mana Repair.

Before his shifting gaze, the worst of the damage was reversed as shimmering moonlight from the Manaseed healed the building back to full. It drained his EP as he enacted it again and again across the breadth of the wall.

Shifting from one monster’s gaze to the other, Hal shored up the weakest parts of the wall, but it hardly seemed to matter. Just as one section was recovering, another began to buckle.

It was more than the battering worms. There were simply too many creatures.

They came from every direction, spewing acid that ate at their defenses. The monsters rained down chitinous spikes that threatened to impale anybody too slow to get out of the way.

And that invariably left the wall undefended for a battering worm to strike.

There was a maliciousness at play here that Hal could just glimpse out of the corner of his eye.

Similar to the way he was controlling the monsters he Dominated, there was something out here mutating and changing the creatures of the Shiverglades into nightmarish creations.

Moving with a singular purpose, great swaths of monsters baited attacks, only to come around and flank the spent defenders. Every motion, every attack was centered around one crystal clear goal: Destroy the wall.

At the center of the wall, several monsters challenged the clangorous noise of Durvin, bellowing out a threatening shout. Hal felt the magical compulsion urge him to fight the tiny red-bearded thing, but he shook it off easily enough.

The dozens of monsters around him were unable to resist the lure.

Durvin stood there atop the wall like a shining beacon of spite. The ground shook with the summoned stampede as the monsters converged on the center wall… and they simply disappeared.

One after the other, the monsters vanished. Like some cruel magic trick, Hal watched from the opposite side of the battle as monsters disappeared. There was no gore, no splatter, or attack of any kind that he could see.

A monster was there, charging the wall one second, and the next it was, replaced by another monster. That monster vanished a moment later.

Figuring he wasted enough time gawking, Hal pulled his attention back from any single Dominated monster and controlled them like a swarming group. He had a collection of various monsters, from the horrendous battering worms to the spiderbolgers and several oozing things he didn’t quite understand how to move properly.

Stretching himself to the limits, Hal used his monsters to harry and slow down the charging force. They mostly ignored him until he did enough damage to draw some attention back his way.

Whatever was directing the monsters hardly cared for Hal’s stolen forces. He was free to attack the altered monsters at his leisure, often killing one or two before any of them realized what he was doing.

Using one monster to cover the other, Hal continually pincered groups of monsters, drawing them away from the wall and giving the defenders time to focus on the closest threats.

Up on the parapets, Hal’s spidery monsters kept the worst of the assault at bay, which allowed the crews up above to rain down boulders upon the field. Once or twice one of his own monsters was hit, but it was an acceptable loss.

He would rather lose all of his Dominated monsters than to risk the life of a single citizen.

Just as the defenders were finding their rhythm again, utilizing Hal’s distraction, there came a new threat onto the battlefield.

It came from the dark of the Shiverglades, beyond the reach of the Daybreak’s sun. A discordant, trumpeting sounded in the deep. It rebounded off the high cliff walls all around Hal’s monsters and threatened to tear his control from them.

Tightening his magical grip on his dwindling minions, Hal reasserted his control as another trumpeting blare echoed from the depths of the Shiverglades.

Several monsters closest to the source of the noise were blasted apart as if an invisible club had smashed them into streams of ichorous bile. The darkness rolled in closer, defying the light of the miniature sun.

The horde of monsters surged forward with renewed strength. They ignored Hal’s stinging bites and claws. He couldn’t hope to stop them.

Walls began to break. Large chunks of the Earthen Bulwarks began to cave and collapse. As fast as they were being broken down, Hal used Mana Repair to build them back up again, but he was getting dangerously low on EP.

Durvin bellowed again, a great shout that rolled out over the gap attracting even more monsters. From high above, one of his minions spied the source of the disappearing monsters.

Purple spiked tendrils snaked out from the Palisade, ensnaring the nearest monster that dared to approach. Impossibly, the monster seemed to shrink as it was pulled closer until it was no larger than a small chest.

It disappeared into a small gap in the Palisade, where another of Hal’s monsters caught the glint of a gold banding.

Vorax would eat well that night.

155

With less than 20 of his Dominated minions remaining, Hal was quickly beginning to realize that the force arrayed against them was too great. Once again, he was reminded that they only needed to survive the night.

Even remembering that was difficult in the thick of things. Everything felt so urgent, so life-or-death (mostly because it was), that the only thing Hal could focus on was destroying one enemy after the other.

But his most effective moves hadn’t been to destroy large swaths of enemies, it had been when he forced chokepoints and slowed the advancing waves of monsters down.

The red-black flames were slowly dying down. The horde of monsters was beginning to test them again, hardier creatures like the golems of mud and stone took the hit to their HP just to reach the crumbling walls faster.

Without access to his Beast Magic, he was forced to rely on the innate magic of each creature under his control. The mutated Morbolgers could breathe devastating attacks, but they took time to cast.

Still, Hal did his best to use the Morbolger’s varying breath attacks. Unsurprisingly, the results weren’t exactly spectacular.

Just like before, he felt a malicious will guiding the monsters all around him. He was able to catch a few - at best - in his breath attacks, but for the most part, the monsters parted around his minions like they were rocks in a stream.

Many of them even ran over the burning ground, rather than risk the devastating effects of being breathed on by a Morbolger.

If only I had fire! he thought. His goal had been to use Bomb Toss to ignite several Morbolgers, then use their uniquely altered Flame Breath attack to destroy groups of monsters at once.

Granted, that would ignite the other Morbolgers, but with the gloom about them - even with the illuminating false sun above - that would only mark them as priority targets to the Rangers.

And the Morbolgers were not the dominant species among the enemy forces. In fact, Hal couldn’t find a single species that seemed more represented than any other.

From the compound eyes of one of his minions, Hal saw a slithering slug-like creature moving with thousands of tiny cilia right over the red-black flames.

Watching the eldritch flames dance, he realized he did, in fact, have access to fire.

Without reservation, Hal converged each Morbolger - including the mutated versions - onto a patch of steadily burning ground. The flames predictably caught on the Morbolgers with ease. He hadn’t been sure it would work, considering the flames were laced with eldritch essence from using Deep Magic on his earlier Bomb Tosses.

They hurt a lot more than Hal figured normal fire would, but he worked with what he had.

Breathing in, Hal had the Morbolgers send gouts of Napalm Breath across the field. Just like before, the malicious entity knew what he was doing and moved the forces of monsters accordingly.

This time, Hal was counting on that. The red-black flames coated the Morbolger’s breath attack, erupting in a wide cone of shadowy ruby flame. The patches of ground that were burnt out became coated in the substance.

With the Morbolger’s breath acting like an accelerant, the ground burned even fiercer than before. Few monsters were caught in the attack, but that wasn’t the point.

Hal was remaking the curving lanes, forcing the monsters along prescribed paths or risk the enhanced eldritch flames. With nearly a dozen Morbolger’s to work with, he was able to work much faster than before.

Painting the flames across the floor of the gap tired out his minions. Every breath attack wearied them, but Hal pushed them on. He would destroy every single one if he had to.

A maze of pathways, looping and winding back on themselves into dead-ends began to appear within the gap. Perched up high, a spider under Hal’s control provided an aerial view of his designs.

The edges of the gap were coated in thick funneling flames that slowly narrowed the approaching force, making their superior numbers work against them. Several of the monsters charged headlong into the high ruby flames but were quickly consumed.

Even the hardy golems didn’t last long in the blazing conflagration. That was because each Morbolger stood vigil within a small unburned pocket. From there, they spun around slowly like sprinklers spewing a near-constant stream of eldritch flame.

Faced with such an obstacle, the monsters allowed themselves to be funneled. With the higher vantage point along the walls and up on the parapets, the defenders picked them off at range.

Boulders that crashed into the red-black flames turned into fiercely burning torches. Arrows that skimmed over the tops of the ten-foot-tall lines of fire took on the eldritch nature of the flames as well.

Throughout it all, Hal’s forces were dwindling. He had to sacrifice more and more of the Morbolgers in order to keep them protected while they spewed their eldritch flames.

He couldn’t keep this up forever. The flames needed constant attention, the curving lanes were taking longer and longer to set up as he was forced to leave Morbolgers behind.

The enemy never seemed to tire, and its inexhaustible force tested Hal’s defenses at every turn. The walls were under constant assault, though it had slowed since Hal implemented the burning maze.

But there was no way to keep that going for as many hours as they needed. It was now the dead of night, but they had several hours to go still. He didn’t get a chance to use Manatorpor in the way he wanted either.

Try as he might, he couldn’t access any of his typical powers. Not that he had ever been in this situation before. He couldn’t even divert enough of his mental energy to try and wake up - wherever he was.

Among his minions was the Disara. He had almost forgotten about the feline in the crash of battle all around. Focusing his attention on the Disara, he used its superior speed and more familiar senses to find the Palebark Treant.

Unsurprisingly, the treant was giving off a faint moonlight glow. Several defenders had rallied around it. They gave the Disara a wary glance before turning back to their duties.

Many of them sported bandages stained red, but they continued their attacks. Karaks hauled up boulders and smaller stones along with supplies of arrows and other ammunition.

Every face was grim with determination, but behind each was a weariness that Hal sympathized with. There weren’t enough of them to defend every wall. People scrambled about, but there were only a couple defenders per section at best.

Using the Disara as a conduit, Hal channeled Mana Repair into the walls, depleting the Settlement’s EP further. One or two walls, that was all he could keep up anymore. If one of them failed….

The Disara’s keen feline eyes scanned the walls, the people rushing about as groups called for aid for their section. He saw Ashera and Noth rush to the west to deal with a beaked creature that tried to climb over the wall and drag away a dwarf.

It became obvious to Hal then that the walls would fail. There was no way they could defend all of them. They were spread too thin, and every wound, every injury shrunk their forces even more.

And all the while the Shiverglades emptied their lairs of monsters.

The Disara whipped back to look at the Palebark Treant. Hal tried to work its mouth, but only growls and snarls came out.

However, the Palebark Treant seemed to understand him. Or at least gathered the gist of what Hal was trying to communicate.

With one final lobbed boulder, the Palebark Treant gave a gentle bow to Hal and lumbered off to the north away from the wall. Many crestfallen faces followed its retreat.

Hal couldn’t explain to them what he was doing, and in any case, he was running out of time.

The flames of the maze wouldn’t last forever. If he had a larger force and more time, maybe he could have done something more. But every breath attack weakened his monsters further. They were even less resistant to the eldritch flames than the normal kind.

Forced to surround them in a pocket where they could be protected from reprisal, Hal only had a dozen remaining monsters at his beck and call. Most of them hovering around 50% HP and with several hours yet of battling to go.

He didn’t know if he could Dominate anymore, or what state his body would be in when - or if - he went back to it. But as he spotted a weakened creature making its way toward a lightly defended portion of the wall, he realized he had to try.

156

“They’ll break through any minute!” Elora shouted at the barbarian.

Elaise regarded her and the swirling marks she had placed on Elora days earlier when her protection began to fade. It had caused more than a little trouble with the Ebon Star scouts, but aside from two, none dared remark aloud about the breaking of tradition.

Not when the sacred pobul had been perched on Elora’s shoulders.

“You know nothing of these beasts,” Elaise said, keeping [Angurvadal] strapped to her back. If she drew it, she knew its runes detecting enemies would be blazing like the sun that now curiously sat over the entrance to the Bravers tribal lands.

Elora stuck out her chin. She was a feisty one. “You have taught me much of the enemies we would find in the Shiverglades.”

“Not these,” Elaise said, her voice low and almost frightened. “The Shadesblight is not to be trifled with. It is evil incarnate. Darkness given form with a single malicious will.”

She tried to keep the depths of her fear from her voice. One look at the roiling cloud of voidmist that covered Frostheart, the mountain at the center of the Black Lands - what the fangrah called the Shiverglades - nearly made her turn tail and run.

Not in her wildest dreams had she ever thought to see an incursion on such a scale. She had expected the Shadesblight to be minor, and even that would have been enough to destroy the fledgling tribe.

Several of her scouts, seasoned Ebon Star tribesmen one and all, looked at her with open fear. Elaise wracked her brain for an answer. Even Aleya would have a difficult time deciding what to do.

When had the Shadesblight grown so powerful? Had it been toying with them all these decades?

Or was it attracted to something?

It was attracted to darkness. Elaise remembered hearing one of the scouts speak of seeing somebody within the Ruins of Cirta as they made their way back.

Had one of the Bravers Tribe been foolish enough to venture into that forbidden city and delve into the darkness beneath? It would explain the violent reaction of the Shadesblight.

But no, that was impossible. Nobody could break through the wards around the ruins, and even if they did, the creatures within the ruins would kill them.

And if somehow that didn’t happen, nobody could escape that infinite darkness. Some of the best scouts of all the Black Lands had disappeared into that pit. Nobody could make it out of there alive.

Just because things were worse than she had thought didn’t mean they would flee. Elaise Starsong was no coward.

Nor was she an idiot.

With a snap of her fingers, all eyes fastened to Elaise’s tall form. She flicked through several commands using the silent hand signals of the Ebon Star. A full two dozen scouts accompanied Elaise and Elora, she sent them on errands to spy the surrounding area.

They needed to get a lay of the land first before they rushed in.

“If you see a creature with a hole in its chest and lines of corruption up and down its body, you run. Understand?” Elaise asked, turning toward Elora.

Only then did Elora seem to grasp the gravity of the foe they were up against. Elaise had never advised her to run before. That simply was not the way of the Ebon Star.

Hearing the words seemed to shock some sense - finally - into the lowlander. She began to understand.

Nobody fought the Voidwracked. You survived them.

Elora nodded, swallowing hard. “Are they truly that bad?” she asked, her voice quite small suddenly.

Good. She learns quickly.

“Worse. We run from Voidwracked. Never fight unless you want to die. Keep Komachi out of this, she will be frightened like she was of the Makoss. We do not want a repeat of that.”

Elaise turned away from Elora to examine the wall of voidmist roiling before them. They avoided it whenever possible, and where it wasn’t, they had their markings to protect them.

But never in her long life had Elaise seen such a thick concentration of voidmist.

A scout came back, flicking her hands through complicated motions that years of training allowed Elaise to read them easily. The wall is ahead, somebody has thrown down a simple rope ladder. I cannot see through the gloom to view its source, however, their hands flashed.

Elaise nodded, Take two others, go to the top. Do not alert the Bravers if there any there, and be quick, she signed, hooking her thumb to emphasize the need of haste.

The scout vanished back into the wall of voidmist. Elaise felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and she spun, pulling Elora back behind her like a child.

At the same moment, she withdrew [Angurvadal]. Its runes blazed with light, pushing back the voidmist with a subtle pressure around her. The wall of the stuff bent and bowed as she stepped back with Elora into the Voidmist. She snuffed the runes’ light immediately.

They melted from view into the gloom, but with Elaise’s runic enhancements, she could still see easily through the voidmist.

A figure skulked in the dark wearing a dark brown hood. It had a long black sword that hung naked on its hip. It paused for a moment… and seemed to sniff the air. It did not look to be one of the Fangcaller tribesmen, so the motion struck her as doubly odd.

The creature looked toward them, its hooded features were indistinct even to Elaise’s magically-aided eyes but she swore for the briefest moment that it was Hal.

Which was impossible.

She had picked up his trail easily enough but it had simply disappeared partway back to the Bravers’ tribal lands. A pair of glinting red dots peered out of the hood at her and made her skin crawl.

Her mind must have been playing tricks on her. That thing was most certainly not Hal.

Elaise could feel a sense of raw power flowing from the thing, as much man as beast, it seemed. That must have been what made her think of Hal, a similarity, and nothing more. With the voidmist around her, whatever it was using to sense the surrounding area seemed stifled.

She had no intention of fighting yet another enemy. The Shadesblight was enough, and if this man-thing ventured too close it would kill him just as it had killed so many before.

With a loud growling snort, the cloaked man rushed off to the southwest and out of sight.

Your Stealth has risen to Level 74.

+1% Stealth success (+74%).

+1% Stealth speed (+74%).

-1% SP drain (-74%).

Elora’s eyes were wide as she stared at the voidmist all around them. So deep within the sentient fog, it was trying to hypnotize Elora. Ghoulish faces appeared in the murk around the Ranger.

Elaise watched her fight the subtle mental intrusion. The runes upon her body would help ward away the killing touch of the voidmist but it was not complete protection.

If they were going to break through the voidmist to get to the Bravers, Elaise needed to know that Elora could handle herself alone.

Secretly cheering her on, Elaise watched as Elora battled the voidmist. The gloom around them darkened as if a giant’s hand was cupped over them.

It only lasted a moment. Elora nearly doubled over, but just as Elaise was about to steady her, the Wildsmaster let out a silent scream. The voidmist bulged around them.

The voidmist resumed its unsettling roiling dance around them, but no more faces appeared within.

Elaise patted Elora gently on the shoulder - though the slight woman nearly buckled at the soft touch - in a sign of approval and walked deeper into the voidmist. She paused a moment and turned around, pitching her voice low. “We do not speak in the voidmist, bad things happen. Watch me, do not lose me. Yes?”

Elora nodded her understanding and Elaise turned again to press deeper into the voidmist. She saw a scout drop thirty feet, and she sidestepped to received them.

They are besieged on all sides by the voidmist, he said by waggling his fingers. I… His fingers faltered as he struggled for words. Their sign language was intricate and complex, he should have no trouble communicating. I have never seen its like. There is a second sun. It nearly touches the earth.

Elaise studied the man intently, after a long moment she dismissed any suspicion. He wasn’t possessed or addled by the voidmist. He was speaking the truth.

With a flourish, Elaise swept her greatsword up and into its sheath on her back.

Leading the way to the tall stone ridge outside of the gap where all the fighting was taking place, the scout motioned to the rope ladder up above.

The scout had no need of the rope ladder, but in a moment of sentimental weakness for their newest member, he leaped the 30 feet in a single bound and grabbed the bottom rung.

Elaise only needed to turn to Elora for her to understand what they were doing. The blonde woman took a running start and kicked off the wall, scrambling for handholds among the crumbling stone.

While the Wildsmaster lacked the raw power of even the mildest scouts, she made up for it with determination.

157

Elora clawed her way up the sheer side of the ridge to grab at the ladder above the scout’s offered hand. A glance at the man’s handsome face showed him smiling with mirth and more importantly, with approval.

Ebon Star Reputation: +100

Such was Elora’s growing understanding of the Ebon Star. They were not the heartless creatures that she had once thought. They were kind and caring in their own way, but clearly had different cultural norms.

The offered hand was not one of disdain or pity, it was a genuine offer. But by ignoring it and trying to do it herself, she earned their respect. Unlike other groups, the amount of reputation she gained was significantly less.

Perhaps that had something to do with her lower than standard CHR, but she doubted it. The tribes were different. She had gained a lot more reputation with average folk for doing a whole lot less.

The rough fibers of the rope ladder chafed as she climbed up the rungs as fast as possible. Elora was more than aware that for all her vaunted skill and speed, she was like a child to the Ebon Star.

Her friends - her family she admitted, privately - were in trouble and she would not allow herself to slow their reinforcements.

In true Ebon Star fashion, when Elora finally crested the rise of the ridge, she found the two dozen scouts already there, assessing the situation. Among them was Elaise who had been standing on the ground just a minute ago.

How are they so fast? she wondered for maybe the hundredth time.

It took Elora a moment to realize that the voidmist was gone, and with it the incessant whispering that filled her mind with all manner of dark thoughts. She shook her head, glad to be free of it but when she saw the false sun perched over the gap, she wasn’t so sure the voidmist was gone.

Only the gawking expression on the battle-hardened Elaise told Elora that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Within the gap below, monsters were set aflame by… other monsters? That must be Hal. Red and black streaks of flame forced the many creatures into a winding, circuitous path that greatly slowed them down.

Choked within small channels to avoid the bite of those strangely colored flames, the monsters were forced to move at a snail’s pace toward the walls. In the distance, Elora could make out the sorry state of their defenses.

Even with the slow down, things were declining. They would never last until the morning.

From on high everything seemed so… far away and strange. Something was wrong with the monsters, she noticed after a moment. They weren’t moving right. Like a group of ants, they all seemed to move with a combined will. They flowed around obstacles, avoided the fire in a way that was more than simple group tactics.

Even more intriguing was the strong tint of magic she could see even through the black gloom of the voidmist deep within the Shiverglades to the south.

Your Perception has risen to Level 37.

+2% Perception highlight chance (+74%).

+5% Awareness of magical items (+185%).

Turning her attention back to the battle below, she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of despair rise up from within the pit of her stomach and try to swallow her whole.

How had she ever thought they could survive out here?

She had done this.

Not Hal, not Ashera, not even the Rangers. This was her fault. She had talked everybody around to her way of thinking, they could have chartered a ship instead.

But no, she was as stubborn as her heartless mother and refused to be chased out of her home. She wanted to overthrow Rinbast.

Rinbast wouldn’t even need to lift a hand to destroy them utterly. He could sit back and watch their destruction from afar, safe in his imposing castle.

Elaise’s strong hand clamped onto her shoulder. The bracing touch pulled Elora from her downward spiral. Her face was grim but determined. “Your friends, we will save. You bring salvation.”

Exuberant hope for the future and unwavering belief in Elora trickled through her bond with Komachi, though it was distant – and sleepy besides - as the pobul was safely tucked away in her personal pocket dimension. It felt almost like Komachi was dreaming, and she was dreaming of Elora.

Her bond with Komachi gave her a sense of stability and welcome comfort that she had been missing for much of her life after her father died.

The barbarian didn’t wait for Elora’s emotion-locked throat to open up for her to respond. Elaise rushed off toward the north along with all the scouts, leaving Elora to gather herself up and follow behind like a wayward child.

More than once she thought to summon Komachi, to use her powers like she had before to conjure a huge arrow of light to smite her enemies.

The problem with Komachi’s powers - and Elora’s nascent control over the pobul - was their severe randomness. Sometimes Komachi could be very brave and strong, at other times she downright refused to do anything out of fear.

Sometimes it was pure laziness.

Every so often Komachi would make a strange quip that she didn’t understand. The last time Elora tried to order Komachi to use a specific attack, Komachi picked her nose and said, “You need more badges to do that.”

Which, of course, made no sense at all. Just like Komachi.

Other times, Komachi seemed more than willing to help but would get startled or scared then start keening. And that was exactly the opposite of what she would need here.

Komachi’s keening had nearly gotten them all killed when she attracted the attention of a small group of Makoss. They were a disturbing cross between a sunflower and a psychic slug that could eat minds as well as anything it came in contact with.

Elora had never known a plant to cast spells before. She never wanted to see another Makoss so long as she lived.

Luckily, there weren’t any down in the gap below. If there were, fireballs, ice storms, and lightning bolts would be shooting across the walls.

They soon came upon a flat rounded top, it looked like the Guild had been busy while Elora was gone. That they had the walls up was a relief to the Wildsmaster. Seeing the extent of their extra fortifications relieved some of the guilt she was feeling for leaving.

Throughout their run, Elora kept her eyes trained on the wall looking for the telltale silver glint of Ashera’s pale hair.

She would never forgive herself if Ashera came to harm because of her decision to come to the Shiverglades. Had they been able to leave Murkmire immediately and put up a few tents in the Shiverglades… they would probably be dead by now if this was how the violent place welcomed its guests.

Without Hal’s annoying insistence to find “the right” spot to set up their Settlement, they would be dead too. Even with only 750 feet of wall to defend, they were stretched beyond their ability to properly man their defenses.

Elaise’s scouts would drastically increase their strength. Not only because of how freakishly powerful they all were but because their sheer number was roughly a quarter of what was already down there defending.

There was a shout of surprise as Elaise - naturally at the front of the scouts - spotted a handful of defenders from the settlement facing a mutated spider.

With a blur of motion, Elaise unsheathed her greatsword. The runes alongside its edge pulsed with bright light. She charged the monster.

Angram, off to the side, shouted at her.

In fact, the scene looked odd to Elora. None of the defenders seemed to be actively fighting the spider creature. A golden pulse of light above the cluster of glistening black eyes clued Elora in.

“Don’t attack it!” she cried, just as Elaise leaped through the air at the thing. The barbarian’s red hair flew out in the wind like a battle standard. Midair, she turned to look over her shoulder curiously at Elora, then at the monster.

At the last moment, the strange runes along the edge of Elaise’s greatsword dimmed then winked out. Faster than Elora could make out, she sheathed her sword and managed to shift to the side to avoid colliding with the creature.

“Thank you,” Angram said. As fast as the Ranger was, he had only made it halfway to Elaise before she stopped herself. “That’s Hal… he’s defending each of the parapets.” Angram pointed a bandaged arm across the gap to the west where another gargantuan spider-thing was perched, this one facing away from the group.

“Down?” Elaise asked him. Angram pointed and the Ebon Star scouts flooded into the dark staircase, leaving Elora behind.

Allowing herself a brief moment, Elora raced to the larger elf and wrapped him in a big hug. She loved Angram like an older brother, he reminded her so much of her father. She was beyond glad that he was okay.

He chuckled and returned the gesture just as warmly. “Ashera is below,” he said, reading her mind. “Seek out the white tents, you’ll find her there most likely.”

A koblin waddled up with a wicker basket, its handle looped through one short arm. An oversized bat squeaked and chirped as it fluttered over the koblin’s head.

“Yes yes,” the koblin said. “Make big-eyes at strengthful fighty-tool of koblin! Drop one, and slither-beasts turn to smolder-dust!”

Angram looked at the koblin then Elora. “You don’t want to know.”

With one final squeeze, Elora released Angram and rushed after the Ebon Star scouts.

158

Shouts of battle filled the air. The thick roiling smoke was at odds with the brilliant radiance of the false sun hanging over the gap. The light pushed away the roiling voidmist that was continually flowing in from the Shiverglades to the south.

Hal urged the Disara toward a weak-looking creature, hoping his Kol'thil Bleed wouldn’t suddenly kill his weakened body.

Wherever it was.

Focusing, Hal called forth the same power he used to think of as his Founder’s Mark, but was actually ancient magic from long before the Founders. Forgotten, it was somehow revived and given a new name and history.

Renaming magic and concocting a new story for it, however, isn’t enough to change it.

Hal felt the Gold Kol'thil’s power well up within the Disara. It changed and shifted, fighting against the creature’s form. It didn’t feel right.

When he tried to release the ancient magic, golden light arced off the Disara’s body… and nothing happened.

Should have known, he thought sourly.

He could affect the body of a target he Dominated but nothing external. There was some vital difference between himself and the creatures he Dominated. That gave him a few ideas, but he dismissed them out of hand.

Having his minions intentionally eaten so they could control the creature that ingested them was a risky move. They might die before he could enact the Sigil, and then he’d be down yet another minion.

There was another way to make the most out of his dwindling resource of Dominated monsters. Now that he knew his Sigils would only affect their bodies, there were only a few options left to him.

If he couldn’t find a way to shore up the wall, their enemies would break through easily. Once inside, the monsters would have the run of the place.

In the gap, they were forced through Hal’s maze but that wouldn’t last more than a couple of hours. And even when they weren’t forced through the maze, some traps still worked on occasion.

The gap was an efficient bottleneck. The trouble was they lacked the manpower to properly defend the full breadth of the wall. Still, it worked as designed, bottling up the superior numbers of the enemy and slowing the tidal wave of violence.

If they broke through, they could use their numbers to their advantage. The defenders would be quickly surrounded and defeated. There would be no way to fight against them, no retreat.

With more time they could have made several walls, falling back repeatedly as each wall was destroyed. But 7 days wasn’t long when most people in the Settlement barely knew the first thing about construction.

There was never time to breathe. Every moment of respite was just the calm before the next plunge into the abyss of chaos that seemed to swirl around him.

Ripping his focus back to the task at hand, Hal put his full attention onto the Disara once more. With a mental command, the creature found that same weakened monster it had tried to Dominate before.

Bounding toward it, the Disara leaped on the scaled back of the green-skinned lizard. Sharp horns stuck up along its back but the Disara was more than nimble enough to avoid them.

It lashed out with its barbed tentacles. The first few strikes stripped the scales like a fish scaler. The follow-up attacks hit bare flesh, the tiny hooks of its heart-shaped protrusion at the end of its tentacles siphoned strength from the already weakened creature.

The Disara drank its fill. More than its fill, in fact. It was practically humming with vitality. Exactly what Hal needed.

What he needed was to get his forces to the wall. But he had committed too strongly to the burning maze. The monstrous force arrayed against them had penned his minions in as well as any cage might.

In their weakened state, if they tried to leave, they would be easily picked off by the horde surrounding them. Only the barrier of eldritch flame kept them safe. And that was not a long-term solution.

Every fiery breath needed to keep the flames powerful enough to repel the monsters damaged his minions. And without his corporeal body to Dominate new targets, he would soon be cannibalizing his forces in order to keep up the maze.

He needed to change tactics.

But getting his minions to the wall was all but impossible. They were too spread out. The Disara, however, could blink across distances if it had enough strength.

Draining the last drops of the giant lizard, the Disara dropped the withered husk to the ground. It turned, using Hal’s awareness of his other minions, and blinked.

One moment it was there, then a subtle clapping sound echoed as the space was suddenly empty. Of course, the sound was impossible for anybody on the wall to hear over the din of battle.

Perched atop the Morbolger’s head, the Disara lashed its barbed tentacles into the creature’s flesh, joining them. Another blink and the pair were back at the wall where the Disara had just left.

Please work.

Hal reached within and invoked Crystallize, the second of Feril’s gifts. He felt the power well up within him, seeking a target. Rather than focus the power outward, he internalized it.

The Disara leaped off the Morbolger’s head and landed lightly atop the wall. The nearby defender looked curiously, then with great alarm as the Morbolger bit the wall and began to lash its vines all about the damaged Palisade and the stone wall of the gap beside.

Before the defender could do anything - Hal thought it was Milas - the Disara extended all of its whip-like tentacles and began to hiss at him threateningly.

Whether it was the glowing Gold Kol’thil clearly on display or the aggressive posturing, the defender fled. Most likely to get more help.

That was fine with Hal. In a few moments, he would know whether or not his desperate plan would work, or if they were doomed.

The Sigil wouldn’t work outside of the creature’s body, but maybe... on a whim, Hal used Vine Spear. One of the Morbolger’s flaming vines suddenly hardened and jabbed forward between two of the damaged bone spikes that Hal had made so long ago to replace wooden logs.

Bone broke and splintered. The vine dug inside the earth and there the Morbolger suddenly gained a brief surge of strength. But more than that, Hal could feel the Palisade as well.

Still holding the Sigil back, Hal suddenly let it go into the Palisade.

There was a faint ripple of force that blasted back the fires all around the Morbolger, putting out many of the fires it had started along the wall. In that instant of distraction, Hal was ejected from the Morbolger.

His attention suddenly snapped onto the Disara, turning the creature around. Only the Disara’s natural swiftness saved its life - and by extension, Hal’s plan - from ruin.

Leaping back, Hal watched through the Disara’s wide eyes as the Crystallize Sigil flash-froze the Morbolger and the Palisade. But it wasn’t done, like a fire it spread out from the creature.

Crystals sprouted and grew over the sheer stone wall to the west. Everything that touched its spreading crystals became Crystallized as well, feeding the magic until finally it slowed and stopped.

Hal waited for the Kol’thil Bleed to hit. He braced for the agony… but nothing happened. The Morbolger’s body was converted entirely to blue-gray crystal several feet thick.

One of those mutated worms with the bony protrusion on its front like a battering ram slithered up to the crystal and coiled its prodigious length.

The Disara tensed, ready to strike. He had no idea how strong the crystal would actually be. As he watched, the Disara’s jaw fell open.

Coiled up to strike, the worm lunged at the wall. It should have shattered the fragile-looking crystal. Instead, its bone made a sickening crack, and a dozen splintering lines formed all along it.

The thing shrieked, and Hal’s Disara wasted no time leaping on its vulnerable back. Using Siphon Lash, Hal drained the creature of its vital energies, transferring them to the Disara to top it off.

Unlike the weakened lizard creature, the worm wasn’t on death’s door. That was actually preferable. The worm didn’t have much in the way of defense, it was clearly designed - oddly enough - specifically for breaking down walls.

He didn’t like the intentional purpose behind those designs.

Back to full, Hal searched out the next Morbolger and blinked. Back and forth the Disara transported his Morbolgers, both mutated and normal. Each time, the Disara leaped on the back of the progressively weaker battering worm to drain its life force.

Only a few minutes had passed and already several sections of the wall had Crystallized. By the time Milas returned with a couple of Rangers, they were greeted with a most bizarre sight.

The crystal had grown along the walls, over them, and through them. It changed the earth, stone, wood, and bone into shining faceted creations that splintered the light in a brilliant, dazzling display.

159

Durvin turned aside a thrusting spiked claw with the flat of his greataxe. He continued to twist with the deflection, turning the blade perpendicular and letting loose a torrent of destructive rage-filled energy.

Vicious Cyclone swept the creature and its three companions off the wall and the ruby energy of the attack cut like falling axes into their tough chitinous hides.

Black blood burst from their bodies, their lifeless corpses falling to the ground. One of them landed half on the wall. Before Durvin could boot it off, one of its fellows scaled the wall, using the dead body as a grip.

With a hearty overhand chop, Durvin sliced the corpse in half. The climbing creature fell with the other half of the body. It never made it to the ground as Vorax sent out his barbed tendrils, grabbing the creature and stuffing it into his voracious maw.

Breathing hard, Durvin laid the tip of his axe on the wall and used the handle to hold himself up like a staff. He hadn’t fought this hard in decades. Rather than make him feel weary and old, it invigorated him.

He felt younger - and happier - than he had in an age.

This is what it means to live, he thought.

All along the flame-filled gap, the monsters continued coming. They wouldn’t stop. It seemed as if the entire of the Shiverglades had been emptied out like a dwarf shaking out his last spark from his coin purse to buy the latest bauble.

“The boy’s a beast,” Athagan said, squinting past the blood streaming down his face. “How much longer ye think he can keep it up?”

Durvin looked out at the horde of burning monsters making their way toward them, intent on breaking down their already-battered walls. “As long as he needs to,” Durvin said sternly.

“Charged!” Myla said to his left. Durvin motioned for his party to give her room.

The Ranger shouldered her bow and reached out toward the empty air. As she did, motes of golden light filled the space where she grasped and coalesced into a bow of sunlight several times larger than any bow had any right to be.

Myla readies Ultimate: Luminous Barrage.

Predictably, a slithering thing tried to reach up to Myla but Durvin’s axe was there severing the limb in an instant. Without thinking, he leaped off the wall and onto the monster’s head.

It was a smaller Morbolger, only about twelve feet tall, but it could still do quite a bit of harm. Durvin had seen firsthand how much damage they could do against the few Earthen Bulwarks they still had. If their vines reached through the Palisades, they could deal considerable damage to the walls.

Atop the Morbolger’s head, Durvin went to work like any good lumberjack. Every overhand swing cleaved into the monster’s head. Rather than foul-smelling (and highly flammable) sap, a black stinking ooze leaked from its wounds.

It was all the same to Durvin’s sensibilities.

As soon as the creature was dead, Durvin reached one hand around the rope tied around his middle. He gave it two quick tugs and before the next monster, a charging black centipede the size of a wagon train, could crash into his body, he was pulled up to the top of the wall by his party members.

Myla’s bow had sprouted several dozen arrows all along its length. Beads of sweat gathered on the Ranger’s brow as a warm wind began to kick up and swirl around her.

When Durvin had first heard that Hal wanted a Ranger in every party possible, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was up to. Now he understood. One by one, every party on the wall began to build up their Ultimate. With the Rangers spread out, their devastating ranged Ultimates were poised to do significant damage.

A bright flash nearly blinded Durvin, forcing him to squint against the glare that was Myla’s Ultimate. She loosed it with a grunt of effort. Dozens of dazzling lines of light lanced out from the golden bow.

Nearly a quarter of the Gap was filled with streaking arrows that twisted and wound their way through the air unlike anything Durvin had ever seen. They weren’t seeking out their targets, but they were clearly drawn to them on some level.

The cluster of monsters that had been approaching was vaporized in an instant and those behind it. The gap was so filled with monsters that nearly every arrow found its mark. Glowing with brilliant light, the monsters simply vanished once they were struck.

Myla uses Ultimate: Luminous Barrage.

It bought them a brief reprieve, time enough for Athagan to get that wound on his forehead checked on. Durvin looked over his shoulder, down the ramp that led from the wall to a nearby white tent.

A karak was there in white robes - though it looked like the big brilliant bird was dressed in bedsheets - tending to the dwarf’s gash. The creature was shockingly adept. Though it had no fingers or hands, it held a small hooked needle in its beak and deftly sewed up the wound before applying a healing salve to it.

They were already out of potions and quick-healing items. What few they had left they kept in reserve on Durvin’s orders. Things were about to get much worse, and he wanted something at the end to keep fighting.

When they could no longer fall back to the tents, they would have to rely on those reserves alone. As much as Durvin wanted to believe that they could hold the walls, he knew from the outset that it was a delaying tactic.

The walls bought them time until they were in the thick of things, fighting in pockets. That was when the real casualties would start piling up. Until that point, they managed not to lose a single life, though several people might not make it through the night.

Despite his weary limbs, Durvin stepped forward when a Dire Spider - a great big hairy creature with spiked barbs all along its sharp-pointed legs and a nasty stinger on its abdomen - crawled atop the wall.

Myla pelted it with arrows, but its thick armor deflected most of them. A few found softer spots, but the Ranger was tired from hours of fighting. Her aim was beginning to falter.

All of them were beyond fatigued. Everywhere Durvin looked, haggard faces greeted him. There was a bone-deep weariness that went beyond physical constraints.

At his urging, Noth had ordered every single person to switch to Focused Classes. That way, every bit of EXP they got pushed them toward the next Level. If not for the multitude of Level Ups, nobody would be standing.

It was one of the only things keeping many of the young fighters on their feet. If they survived the night, many of them would have rocketed through their Levels.

Unfortunately for Durvin, his Warrior was so high it took a lot to Level Up. Athagan had Leveled Up right before taking a bite to the noggin but with Myla’s recent destructive wave, he had to be close to another Level Up.

The Dire Spider made a sharp screech as Durvin rushed at it. He tucked his shoulder and fell to the wall, rolling along and out of the way of the thrusting stinger he knew to be coming.

There was only one real way to defeat a Dire Spider, and that was to bait its stinger. Dwarfs, being rather short and low to the ground, always seemed to make the Dire Spiders eager to stick them.

With his heavy armor sounding like somebody just dumped all their kitchen pots and pans on the floor, Durvin sprang up to his feet beneath the Dire Spider’s soft belly. They had to lift their vulnerable bellies up high on those spiked limbs in order to thrust the stinger forward.

In the moment of the stinger’s retraction, they were vulnerable.

Mythril Cleave split the creature from stinger to thorax. Its stinking entrails spilled out, black as night and reeking to high heaven.

Durvin dropped his axe to the ground and heaved with all his might, pumping his short and stout legs. The Dire Spider’s dying body was flung from the wall to crash onto one of its companions down below.

Spitting on the creature, Durvin scooped up his axe and looked back at his fellows, all of them were looking to the west and east. “What’re ye gawkin’ at?” he asked, following their gaze.

He saw it then.

“What is that durned fool up to now?” Durvin mumbled aloud.

The walls were turning into crystals, shaped more often than not, like a rearing Morbolger ready to strike. Where the monsters struck against the crystals they were repelled. Magic and attacks that were aimed at the crystals reflected back on the attacker.

Rather than deal with the stuff, the monsters were steadily moving toward the more vulnerable walls. And so the defenders followed. Every section of the wall that turned to ice-like crystal freed up more defenders.

In short order, Durvin found himself with plenty of allies to fight the newest concentrated wave of monsters.

160

Ashera lifted her hammer, crushing it into the slithering form of a snake with black scales and a purple frill. The Spitter crashed to the side, and shook the section of the wall she was tasked with defending.

Safe in the belief that everybody was too busy fighting to notice her, she focused on her Occultist magic. Wither’s magic flowed in dark black lines across her battered gauntlet as she dropped to the ground and touched the dazed creature.

Wither worked its way through the creature’s scales as if it was paper. A dark purple light filled the Spitter’s body, spilling out from between its crumbling scales. The light raced up its long body until it reached its eyes.

Ashera grasped the thing, its head was a little larger than her own but her hand easily found a grip on its throat. She lifted the dying thing until she could stare into its face. In an intense flash of dark purple light out of the creature’s eyes, Ashera took part in its strength.

Her muscles bunched and she felt a new strength course through her body. It made her sick to use her Occult powers, but without them she would have already fallen. And once she started using them… they were hard to stop.

Dark thoughts flowed through her mind, pulling her deep into despair. She channeled the darkness into a black line that raced across the air where she pointed toward a large centipede that was beginning to climb up over the wall to her right.

The line of darkness struck the creature, and turned it to ash. Ashera braced herself for the recoil.

She was thrown to the ground in agony as the dark thoughts drove spikes into her mind. To use Occult Magic was to suffer the darkest of thoughts, the worst of yourself.

Ashera had experienced a great deal of suffering in her short life, it made her Occult Magic powerful but it also meant the recoil was much worse.

Images of her father turning into an unrecognizable monster. Her mother leaving, abandoning her family - abandoning her.

Emotion roiled within her, threatening to break free. She had spent so many years of her life pleasing those around her. Doing what others wanted for the sake of appearances, to try and appease them.

She desperately wanted to be something she was not: normal.

Not this dark freak that thrived on suffering and fed on pain like it was a wellspring of mana. Ashera’s eyes darkened, black veins began to stand out around her eyes and pulsed with inner strength.

Of all things, a black Thesp leaped atop the wall nearby. It clawed through three members of her party. They were thrown to the ground in varying states of disarray as Ashera finally ripped off the lid of her emotions.

They exploded out in a torrent of darkness that for a brief moment, dimmed the miniature sun hanging over the gap. Nether Void opened a small black hole above the Thesp. It pulled on the creature, turning its thick carapace into thin spaghetti strands.

Reaching her hand out, Ashera swept Nether Void across the top of the wall, clearing it. She started to direct it toward the monsters below when a cry of pain broke her concentration.

She looked down to see Killis Busterback grabbing his leg, a large chunk of it had been ripped out by her rapidly unraveling spell. He didn’t seem to notice it was her, it had happened so fast.

Guilt rushed through her, and Ashera went to the dwarf. Anvidol was beside her, helping the dwarf up. Ashera bandaged him quickly, but the wound was too complete, too clean to be a monster’s bite.

With a shrill whistle, a karak appeared to whisk the dwarf away but Killis waved the bird away. “I ain’t fer leavin’ me kin to defend the wall alone. I got one good leg still,” he said, grimacing through the pain.

Ashera waved the karak back, and let the dwarf be. Killis stood warily, testing his wounded leg. He sucked air through his teeth in a sharp hiss, but when the next monster popped up over the wall, he was there swinging his mighty axe, whatever the pain he felt.

Turning aside from the companion she wounded, Ashera caught sight of a towering golem of stone as it reached the wall. The ground beneath her buckled as the wall began to cave from the golem’s sudden assault.

Nearly falling to her knees, Ashera’s anger flared up from within. She was supposed to be the calm, collected one. In control.

Thoughts of Elora out in the wilderness lost amid the voidmist that now seemed to coat the world around them filled her with dread. She channeled that pain and anguish into something useful.

Ashera leaped from the wall.

Her hands came up over her head with her hammer. As she brought the weapon crashing down atop the Stone Golem’s head, she pushed Break through the sturdy weapon.

The Stone Golem’s head exploded into stone shrapnel. Ashera leaped off its shoulders and onto the next monster, crashing her weapon imbued with Break into that one as well.

Despite being some sort of squishy, acidic slug, as soon as her hammer crashed into its side that monster too shattered into sharp bits of lithified flesh.

She was a whirlwind of chaos. Her party members stayed up on the wall, defending it against the latest attackers as the wall magically repaired itself.

Never before had she fallen so deep into her magic. She was awash in the dark oozing mass, drowning. Its power consumed her, infused her with strength she rarely showed.

It was all Ashera could do to hold herself together. She didn’t even notice that her Ultimate had filled.

Deep within herself, she struggled against the binding magic she had failed to keep in check. She understood Hal’s darkness better than anybody. Ashera had her own that she battled on a daily basis.

She had used too much of her Occult Magic. It was stronger than her, it always had been, but now she had released it. It refused to be caged again. Reaching out, barely aware of the action, Ashera cast Wither on a lanky beast that approached her flank.

She was too deep to pull back out. Ashera fell to her knees as the dark veins around her eyes pulsed with a dark purple light. Her whole face, once pale and pure, looked like the cracked mask that it was. She was losing control.

No, not again.

A large flightless bird, a black Diatryma, rushed toward Ashera seeing her as an easy target. Just as the creature was upon her, she lifted her head and screamed.

Ashera let loose a piercing cry that rent the air. That was the Diatryma’s only warning as her magic fed on the despair and self-hatred within, reaching a fever pitch. It had never been this bad before. She felt the darkness stretch and expand, filling her to the brim.

The power was intoxicating, and despite her best efforts, she couldn’t hold it back.

Ashera readies Ultimate: Umbral Eye.

That wasn’t an Ultimate she knew of. How was that possible?

Ashera felt the collar clasp her throat again. Her father’s weary, haggard face an inch from hers, tears and blood streaking his face as he whispered, “It’s for the best, dearest.”

Scenes of carnage flitted across her addled mind as she struggled to hold herself together. The Diatryma, startled by the shout paused just long enough for Ashera’s magic to spin out of control.

Dark threads snapped up from the many wounds beneath her battered armor. Black veins pulsed across her armor, stretching up her high collar and across her cheeks and chin.

When they reached the veins around her eyes, the world flipped. Dark fog flooded all around her, but she could somehow see through it. The darkness formed shifting shapes, the Diatryma was a black blot against a background of twilight.

Her sea-glass green eyes turned into deep pools of darkest black. The Diatryma lunged forward. It was like Ashera could see the thick air move out of its way, showing her where it would attack.

It was as easy as stepping out of the way. Her body responded with an alacrity that was beyond her normal capacity. Black tears streamed down her face as Ashera slammed her hammer against the bird’s leg, shattering it like glass.

As she began to understand what she was seeing, her vision clarified. The Diatryma fell but began to flap its wings and kick out with its one good leg.

Ashera leaned out of the way and struck her hammer against the limb. The Diatryma screeched in agony as her hammer shattered into a thousand shards of metal.

Ashera uses Ultimate: Umbral Eye.

Every monster that came against her section of the wall fell, writhing and in complete misery. Each kill fueled the dark, torturous thoughts within, plunging her deeper into the lightless depths of her soul.

161

Elaise leaped onto the wall at a run. Much larger than even the tallest elf, she bulled aside anybody in her way. Her scouts flanked out from her position, running alongside the wall or behind it to brace the broken down sections of the wall.

The far reaches of the Bravers’ defenses were turning to crystal. Elaise didn’t know what to think of it, but she didn’t much care. The voidspawn were shying away from them, that was all she needed to know.

Glancing toward the entry to the Shiverglades made the battle-hardened woman’s blood run cold. She had never seen so much devastation, so much hatred leveled at a singular people.

It was a miracle they had survived at all.

She wasn’t sure if their force would be able to turn the tide, but they would die trying. The Shadesblight was everybody’s problem, no matter what her sister thought.

If it was already this bad, then the Ebon Star needed to know. She skidded to a stop near a dwarf overbalancing from their swing. With a twist of her hips, she pivoted, lifted a leg, and booted the creature the dwarf was attacking off the wall.

Using the momentum, she turned around to the youngest scout among her number, Nosic. She pointed at him, and signed, Return to the nearest post. This is a far greater threat than we assumed. The Warleader must be informed, I do not know if there are voidwracked here, but I would not be surprised. Go, give word.

The young man was about to object when another scout with similar facial features stopped him and in a rare display of outward affection, hugged the man.

He pulled away quickly and signed, The Honorable Scout Leader does not know if we will survive, he explained to his younger brother. If we perish, the tribe must know of our fate and of what has happened. You are all that stands between our home and this virulent plague of darkness. Go.

Nosic straightened his shoulders as he realized that he wasn’t being sent away because of his inexperience, he was being given an important task.

Elaise nodded, and pulled out a [Scintillant Feather]. She handed it to Nosic. Show this, and every member of the tribe will do their best to speed you to my sister. The Warleader must know of this, speak of it to no one else.

Nodding, the young scout stared at the feather as it shimmered and sparkled with light. He turned and fled back the way they had come.

It had all happened so fast that the dwarf Elaise had just saved only then realized what had happened. He straightened his lopsided helm and looked up to say something, but Elaise was already moving again.

Elora trailed behind them, as Elaise signed her orders to her scouts. They spread out in a single line across the least occupied part of the wall. As Elora passed by, Elaise caught her on the arm. “You seek out your friend, yes?”

“She’s here somewhere,” she said, blue-gray eyes frantic as a lost calfling.

“Go to her,” Elaise said, forcing Elora out of her party and pulling another of her scouts into hers. “Speak with me after.”

She had wanted to say more, to add “if we survive,” onto that but her command of the Common tongue was far from complete. Elora had gained considerable understanding of their more civilized High Chant, but she was still as a babe in the woods with complex metaphors - which the High Chant was rife with.

Elora left her and Elaise thrust her from her thoughts. Something she had seen within the hordes of monsters had set her teeth on edge.

They hadn’t seen any Makoss from on high, but Elaise did now. As the strange black and red fires that littered the gap died down, the Makoss slithered forward.

She only counted six, but that would be enough when they were empowered by the voidmist corrupting them. A contingent of Mud Golems accompanied them.

Elaise used Bloodmark. A floating red eye appeared over the group of Makoss, every one of her party members was alerted to the threat. They turned as one to address it while others went to aid where they could.

Swinging her sword free of its sheath, Elaise reversed her grip on [Angurvadal] and stabbed it deep into the top of the wall. Many thought her sword’s unique runes were there to alert her of danger.

That was only part of their use. Their true purpose was as a conduit for her magic. While the scouts around her were tracing complex curling runes through the air with their fingertips, Elaise only needed to grip the leather-wrapped handle.

As she channeled her mana into the blade, the runes along the flat of the greatsword winked out. One by one, previously hidden runes began to glow in order. Though she had taken longer to get started than her compatriots, she was already finished with her first spell a second later.

The runes swirled in the air, curling and coiling on each other like a living thing until a frightening dragon’s face appeared out of the flames.

It roared, a deep rumbling sound that shook the earth beneath her feet. Elaise threw the spell forward even as she began casting the second.

The dragon uncoiled, striking through the creatures that gathered at the wall. Its touch turned anything to ash. The dragon’s purpose was pure, and would not be turned aside by the biting fiends that it streaked past.

Her aim was true. The dragon was leveled at the vulnerable Makoss, but she was hardly surprised when the Shadesblight moved the Mud Golem in its path. That was almost as good, and the main reason Elaise was already casting her second Dragon’s Breath.

Mud Golems were weak to fire if enough of it was used. Flash-boiling all of their water turned the Mud Golem into a statue. Without its water, it was little more than clay. Still technically alive, but it would no longer be a threat.

The golem was shrouded in a cloud of steam as the Dragon’s Breath struck the creature with an intense ball of flame. The Shadesblight left it behind as it moved its minions forward, now missing one Mud Golem.

You cast Fire Veil: Dragon’s Breath.

Weakness Exploited!

The [Mud Golem | Lv.55] takes 1,280 points of fire damage.

The [Mud Golem | Lv.55] is petrified!

Halfway through her next casting, her party members were already sending their Dragon’s Breath toward the creatures. They only needed one to get through, but as each spell hit, the Shadesblight proved to be far more in control than Elaise had assumed.

It sacrificed countless monsters, diving them into the path of the dragon. With each creature their magic turned to ash, the strength of the spell faded. It wasn’t enough to stop Elaise’s second spell, but three of her compatriot’s Dragon’s Breath spells were too weak to do any real damage once they hit.

The spells hit the Mud Golems, only to fizzle out. The golems continued on with dried and cracked patches of the flaking clay to show for the attack.

And all the while, the group of Makoss marched closer. Once they were within casting distance they would obliterate the Bravers’ walls. Going out to meet them would be suicide.

Elaise sent another Dragon’s Breath out. The flaming dragon burned so hotly, the flames coming out of its fanged mouth were blue. Without looking to see if the attack would hit its mark, she began casting Fire Veil: Dragon’s Talons.

Despite casting it at the same time as her two party members flanking her, she had to hold the spell at the last rune to time it perfectly. As soon as their dragons roared out, Elaise slipped in Dragon’s Talons.

Unlike Dragon’s Breath, the talons moved below the earth, burrowing until it erupted at its destination. Using the spells of her two companions, she snuck in her spell, channeling as much mana as she could into the spell.

For every foot it traveled, it consumed greater and greater amounts of mana. It was not meant to be a long-range spell, and there was a chance the Shadesblight would notice what she was doing, but those were risks she was willing to take.

Fire Veils ate up a prodigious amount of mana but their wide offensive prowess was unmatched among the various spells of her Fabled Class.

The twin Dragon’s Breaths hit just as Elaise’s MP began to bottom out. She moved the Dragon’s Talons beneath the group of Makoss and the ground erupted with curving blades of white-hot flame.

In an instant, the Makoss were set ablaze.

She could hear their discordant shrieking from where she stood on the wall, gasping for breath. A soothing flood of revitalizing energy brought her back to full, but rather than celebrate, Elaise cried out in denial.

You defeat the [Tainted Makoss | Lv.60].

You defeat the [Tainted Makoss | Lv.60].

You defeat the [Tainted Makoss | Lv.60].

…

Ninja reaches Level 35.

You have 5 unspent Attribute Points awaiting distribution.

You have 1 Ninja Perk point awaiting assignment.

Your HP, SP, and MP are fully restored.

Your Veil Magic has risen to Level 29.

+1.25% Veil damage (+36.25%).

+1.25% Veil effect duration (+36.25%).

+1.25% Veil casting speed (+36.25%).

Slithering away from the flames, entirely unharmed, was one last Makoss. Somehow she had missed it. Even as Elaise fell into casting another Dragon’s Breath with her renewed mana, she knew it would be too late. It was already within range, and it too was casting a spell.

162

Hal watched as his friends fought and bled atop the walls. His Disara was scraped and bruised, running on fumes. That malicious presence at the core of the Shiverglades’ attack had caught on to Hal’s scheme.

There was some magic that prevented the Disara from blinking from one location to the next, a bitter tang that hung in the air. Unable to swiftly move his Dominated targets, Hal struggled to get them in place.

He tried again to contact Besal, Noth, anybody. Just like every other time, there was no answer.

Maybe he really had died.

There wasn’t enough time to dwell on that, however. Even if he was dead, he would be brought back so long as the Manaseed survived. And for that, the Settlement had to be standing to greet the rising sun.

One after another, his Dominated monsters were Crystallized along with the wall they had dug into. It was a slow process, but every section of the wall he could protect bought them time they were in desperate need of.

Already the flanks of the great wall were secured, forcing the bulk of the enemy forces toward the center of the gap. Unable to communicate with him, his friends and allies still managed to understand what he was doing.

They moved in ever-greater numbers toward the vulnerable center walls. Each wall was taking heavy damage, and Hal was out of EP to repair them. Vorax’s wall, anchored by his bottomless appetite and Durvin’s furious defense stood out as a beacon of hope against the voidmist’s evil.

A Morbolger lashed itself to the wall as a barbarian ran up to the creature to kill it. The hulking man had murder in his bright eyes. He thought it was attacking the wall.

As tall as the Morbolger was, the barbarian wouldn’t even have to leave the safety of the wall’s fortifications to destroy it.

Hal redoubled his efforts, forcing his will into the Sigil. Something twisted uncomfortably inside of himself and the Sigil burst out like a gale. The barbarian’s large sword slashed… and was instantly encased in crystal.

Luckily, the man leaped back so fast he was practically a blur. It saved him from sharing the same fate as his weapon, which he stared at longingly. His attention was soon diverted as a twisted leafless Treant ambled up to the wall and began scraping at it with broken branches.

The barbarian gave one last look at his fully encased sword and pulled out a pair of small curved daggers. He leaped off the wall directly atop the Treant, hacking away with abandon.

If he had only thought to do this from the beginning, he might have been able to use the full number of his Dominated targets to brace the walls. As it was, he only had four more minions. The two mutated spiders high up on the walls, a final Morbolger, and the Disara.

There was still roughly a hundred-foot-long section of unprotected wall. And while the defenders had concentrated there… so had the enemy. Even with so much firepower in such a small area, the tide of monsters was unending.

As a series of fiery dragons leaped out from the wall, streaming across the gap, Hal could see that the walls were not going to hold much longer. Every attack, no matter how brief, chipped away at the wall’s bHP.

Hal had to brace them. He summoned the spiders back from their perches, hurrying them along to guide the lone Morbolger through the thick of the battle.

With their venomous bites and sticky webbing, the spiders made a clearing around the Morbolger. It lasted all of a minute, still halfway to his destination one of the spiders was dragged away and obliterated by numerous fangs and claws.

Using his Disara, Hal rushed it to the Morbolger’s side. Though it couldn’t blink about the battlefield, it was still a powerful creature on its own. It leaped up on the back of a great purple worm that erupted from the ground near the Morbolger.

The Disara siphoned its lifeforce, reinvigorating the catlike creature. Hal felt something shift in the air, some subtle balance tipping in his favor. He looked back through the eyes of the Disara and watched as dragons made of fire struck a group of slowly approaching Mud Golems.

It looked like they were an honor guard for… something. Something that looked like a cross between a slug and a sunflower, if a slug walked on numerous little legs.

As the oozing, muddy bodies of the Mud Golems were flash-baked, Hal felt the presence in the air shift once more. Like a veil pulled away, Hal could feel his Disara had access to its blink ability once more.

Something about those creatures felt wrong, but Hal couldn’t put his finger on it. The Disara blinked and appeared atop the Morbolger, who in turn snared the spider with a vine.

The trio blinked and appeared at the base of the wall. Hal’s Morbolger immediately began to dig in its vines while the Disara and spider burrowed into adjacent segments of wall that looked worse for wear.

He could hear Durvin’s voice loud above the roar of beasts, “Ye leave the ones with the glowin’ marks alone or it’ll be yer hide! I can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but protect the durned monsters!”

Leaping off the wall, Durvin rushed around to the back of the Morbolger near the center-most wall and began to swing his greataxe with wild abandon. Swirling cutting wind rolled off the sharp gleaming blades as he cut a swath of destruction before him.

He was soon joined by several other dwarves, each of them with a rope tied about their middle trailing to a group of battered and bandaged dwarves on the wall.

As soon as the Morbolger began to Crystallize, Durvin and his crew tugged on their ropes. They were yanked out of harm’s way, all but Durvin. A scything claw had cut his rope when he wasn’t looking, leaving him down among the pressing horde of monsters with no way up.

The last thing Hal saw before darkness consumed him as his last two minions Crystallized upon their respective walls, was a bright flash and a wave of intense heat.

* * *

With the use of her new vision, Ashera saw Durvin’s fall. She saw the horde collapse upon him moments before they did it.

She could get to him, but it would expose her to more than just Elora. The Wildsmaster stood at her side, looking worried but resolute. No judgment.

A flaming dragon rushed out from one of the barbarians up on the wall. Ashera looked at the roaring fire with her black eyes, inky tears streaming down her stained cheeks.

Her hand snapped out, covered in gore and the black blood of her enemies. Diabolic Seal flashed over the spell. Black lines of corruption rippled along its length and it became a part of her.

Ashera stole it. There was no other word for it. She took hold of the magic and redirected it to Durvin’s attackers.

The barbarian that had cast the spell looked curiously at what just happened. The dragon streaked to the side at a sharp ninety-degree angle and dove at the nearest group of hideous plantoid beasts.

A blinding blaze of fire erupted as the creatures were incinerated, buying Ashera enough time to reach Durvin. A dark shimmering tether appeared between Ashera and the barbarian that had cast the spell.

He doubled over in pain as the backlash of Diabolic Seal reached him. He would know exactly what had happened. There it was. Her secret was out. Ashera shoved the man from her thoughts. Elora ran ahead of her, she reached Durvin first.

The dwarf was spitting mad, parts of his beard were aflame and his suit of armor was blackened. But he was alive.

Ashera grabbed one of the ropes from a nearby dwarf. The man nearly dropped his length of it and fell over as he saw her black eyes and the pulsing veins that etched across her face.

But dwarves were made of sterner stuff, and with a nervous nod, he fed her more of the rope so she could aid in Durvin’s rescue. None of them would last long down there.

Just as Ashera was about to leap down, a tiny bead of light drifted out toward her. She regarded it curiously at first, then a pall of dread fell over her as she realized it wasn’t just an ember or a trick of the light.

Dropping the rope, Ashera put all of her Occult-infused strength into a leap toward the floating mote of orange-red light. She could feel the power rolling off it. She could reach it.

I can’t let it detonate.

Ashera soared through the air on a direct collision course with the devastating spell. She cast Diabolic Seal once more, attempting to steal and redirect the foul magic.

A force unlike anything she had ever felt resisted her subversion, it fought like a vicious, rabid animal. Her HP began to dive, wounds appeared all over her ruined armor. Blood flowed freely and the inky black tears became a steady flow of darkness from her eyes.

You will not take my home from me!

Ashera channeled her deepest, darkest thoughts at that moment, pulling out the memory that wounded her most of all.

She held tightly onto it, letting it fuel her Occult Magic. The resisting force receded, Ashera hung in the air five feet from the bead of fiery destructive magic. Her outstretched gauntlet began to glow red-hot with unimaginable heat. The metal started to ripple and distort, she ignored the pain and pressed on.

Held aloft by the tidal forces of her own Occult Magic and that of the presence behind the Shiverglades’ assault, Ashera smiled. She was winning. For once her pained memories were useful.

But her victory was short-lived.

She realized what was going on too late, and ripped the spell in half, shunting the portion she had assumed control of into the distance. The rest of the spell detonated, washing out everything in white, and Ashera knew no more.

163

In one violent flash of light, everything changed.

The wall vaporized. Bodies were thrown back as if the world itself had bucked them free. Their defenses were breached, anybody who wasn’t lucky enough to be thrown back from the blast likely shared the same fate as the wall.

Ashera had saved the lives of many, but even her newfound strength had its limits. She was lost to the blinding white, as were many other friends and allies.

With a groan, Elora shook the dazed sensation from her head. A strong hand reached out and lifted her to her feet. Elora looked, aghast, into Elaise’s blood-streaked face. The barbarian had one eye swollen shut and a dislocated arm hanging at the wrong angle.

“Up,” she commanded. “We must hold longer.” She pointed with her massive greatsword with a single arm at the eastern ridge. The sky beyond was just starting to lighten to deep purple.

Elora pushed away from the barbarian looking at the chaos that reigned around her.

The blast had blown her back dozens of feet. She had been lucky it seemed. Several still forms littered the ground beside broken shelters and shattered palisade spikes.

One form, in particular, held her attention.

Ignoring Elaise’s shout, Elora ran toward Ashera. Her leg gave out after three steps with a stomach-churning wave of agony. Looking down, Elora saw a white bone sticking out from her leather armor.

She nearly swooned at the sight and the blood beside but she forced herself up once more with Elaise’s help. With the barbarian’s sword sheathed, she looped an arm around Elora and steadied her. “We must secure the wall!” Elaise said, though she continued to help Elora toward Ashera’s fallen form.

“I can’t leave her,” Elora said, her heart in her throat.

Ashera wasn’t moving.

All of the strength seemed to bleed out of the Wildsmaster at the bloodied sight. Her heart froze between one beat and the next.

Though Elora would have never conjured her willingly into such a dangerous situation, Komachi sensed her distress. Her utter turmoil. Komachi materialized on the churned-up field beside Ashera’s body.

Tears streaming down her filthy, bloodied cheeks, Elora turned wide blue-gray eyes toward Komachi. “Help her,” she begged. “Please!”

The trembling little pobul, so deeply in tune with Elora’s emotions took one forlorn look at Ashera, then at the other still forms around. More than just Ashera suffered from that blast.

A red-bearded dwarf, limbs twisted awkwardly, lay nearby. A once-beautiful treasure chest, now broken and battered, its lid lying askew not far from the dwarf.

Komachi keened, her tiny heart breaking.

She was terrified. Absolutely and utterly afraid of the monsters that poured forth from the break in the wall. Luda was there, the small form of the young woman creating a shield to push back the tide but it was an impossible task.

The monsters reacted to the pobul’s cries. Her keening whipped them into a frenzy, unlike anything Elora had seen before. Whatever malicious intent that guided them was buried beneath the weight of their primal savagery.

Elora realized what a horrible mistake she made. The pobul continued to keen with loss and fear at the bodies around her. She was supposed to be her protector, and she had let her come out in the middle of a slaughter.

Komachi’s dark brown fur began to glow and Elora noticed out of the corner of her eye that every single one of Komachi’s considerably bulked up stats were draining at an astonishing rate.

The monsters were halfway to their position when Elaise stood up, recognizing the threat, and loosed her greatsword with one arm. The monsters that slipped past Luda’s shining barrier of moonlight were met with the unbridled fury of a barbarian who would not let them harm a single hair on Komachi’s head.

Elaise roared. The ground shook.

A buff rippled out from her position to everybody nearby.

You gain the effect of Tribal Bloodlust.

-25% Damage Taken.

+1.5% Damage dealt per enemy slain.

Duration: 5 minutes.

Elora looked from Elaise back to Komachi. Her fur was almost golden and glowing. She lifted her tail straight up like a flagpole and a burst of prismatic light fell over the battlefield.

Between one blink and the next, Elora felt her consciousness slip through her grasp like water.

* * *

Elaise lifted [Angurvadal] and cleaved a slithering beast down the middle. Its two halves split and curled as she began to channel mana into the symbols on her blade.

Stabbing her greatsword into the soft earth, the barbarian fell to one knee and grasped the leather-wrapped grip of her sword. She concentrated, bringing the dregs of her mana to bear.

She would never let a pobul be harmed while she yet drew breath. The already chill air crystallized around her, growing even colder. A flash of prismatic light washed over her, bumping her HP up 10% but otherwise doing little for her serious wounds.

Elaise focused on the cold air, pulling it in. Feeling it all around her, the barbarian rose unsteadily to her feet. Releasing her faithful blade, she brought her fist up to her mouth and curled her index finger away from the fist.

Pressing her lips against the small gap provided, she channeled her mana and the frigid cold all around her.

The air temperature around Elaise dropped tens of degrees each second. Diamond dust flitted about her, glittering in the fitful light of that miniature sun so far away now, or perhaps it was just diminished.

With one deep breath, Elaise drew every drop of cold into her lungs. It burned and ached, but she continued to draw it all in until her lungs were fit to burst.

As the monsters rushed through the widening gap in the walls, Elaise let loose her magic. Ice Veil: Bitter Winter rushed out in a cone of impossible cold.

Every monster that its frigid wind touched, was instantly frozen to the core. The ground turned slick and hard, reflecting the light around them like a mirror.

Elaise kept breathing out, emptying her lungs of the pain and cold. Dozens of monsters were frozen, clogging up the ragged hole in the wall. The Shadesblight took control of the monsters once more, which could only mean that Komachi had stopped keening.

The barbarian was only dimly aware of that fact, though. She didn’t have the luxury to check on the little one or the young Wildsmaster. Long after her breath should have been spent, Elaise continued to emit a cone of freezing cold.

It reached all the way to the wall, glazing it in a foot-thick layer of shining ice. Consciousness began to fade, darkness closed in around her, and still, she summoned the Bitter Winter to do her bidding.

Spent, Elaise released the spell. That was all she had left to give, and she noted with more than a little pride that the monsters had considerably thinned thanks to her spell.

Your Veil Magic has risen to Level 32.

+1.25% Veil damage (+40%).

+1.25% Veil effect duration (+40%).

+1.25% Veil casting speed (+40%).

But as she looked around, gathering her strength once more, she noticed something worse.

Elora was gone. Komachi was gone. At least a dozen people were just… gone. Ashera, Durvin, Vorax, and several others were no longer where she remembered them.

Without the Wildsmaster in her party, she couldn’t check on her. Nor could she take much time to ponder the oddity. Several of her scouts were wounded but not out of the fight.

She called them to her side and waded in beside the small girl sustaining the barrier of magic. The horde of monsters battered at it, denting that shield of light and conjuring bruises across the young one’s delicate frame.

The girl’s lip split and blood began to trickle down the side of her grimace as Elaise stepped up beside her. She remembered then that her name was Luda. She had never seen her do anything like this before.

How many powerful friends do you have, Hal? she pondered. And even with all their strength arrayed against a single enemy, the Shadesblight had seized the advantage.

As it always would.

Her Ultimate filling up, Elaise waded into the horde of monsters. Summoning forth a burst of magic from her enchanted greatsword, [Angurvadal], Elaise pushed back the monsters, staggering them for a moment.

A moment was all she needed.

Unlike most Ultimates, Elaise’s was special. There was no using [Angurvadal] for this. She had to use old-fashioned hand seals, and with her arm dislocated it was going to hurt.

Growling through the pain, Elaise formed the hand seals necessary to channel and bring forth her Ultimate. Her fingers were slow, the monsters recovered with every hand seal until she thought she had severely misjudged her own ability.

But of course, she hadn’t.

She was the Warleader’s sister, after all. She completed the final seal, fingers interlaced in a complex weave as power flowed through her.

Elaise uses Ultimate: Dark Mirror.

All around the barbarian, shadowy images of herself appeared. Each of them drew their own blade and howled with enough combined fury that even the monsters gave pause. It appeared as if a small army of Elaises had suddenly come to the barbarian’s call.

They rushed the stunned monsters, cheering and lifting their many voices into a powerful battle cry.

164

Mira sat cross-legged with Hal’s head in her lap. Her hands wove intricate shapes above his forehead, wringing out a brand of magic that had no business being on Aldim.

She could just barely see him there in the sea of shimmering glyphs that assaulted him like bolts of lightning. Gritting her teeth, she pushed harder against the barrier between her magic and Aldim’s Worldshard.

Just a little more, a trickle is all I need, dude, she thought to herself, straining.

Back home the magic she was performing would have been child’s play for her. She was an accomplished Magi after all, well into her studies. But being on another Worldshard had its limitations. Especially if one was trying to be covert.

There was a rush of incredible heat, the ground shook, and even with her eyes closed, the brilliance of some blast outside painted red across her vision. Shouts and screams filled the air but Mira tuned them out.

Noth was still there, kneeling by Hal’s side. “Go,” Mira told the woman. “Your mana is mixing up with his. I thought it was helping at first, but it’s just static to me now. Besides, it seems like the others need your help more than Hal does.”

The other woman waited, and Mira could practically see the woman’s doubting expression. Finally, she relented and stood. There was a swish of fabric as she left the tent.

Far enough from the wall their makeshift tent still stood against whatever had happened. Mira sighed and opened her eyes.

A rather tiny koblin stood sentry at the tent flap watching her curiously. She’d rather not have an audience, but she could tell the little one wasn’t about to leave just because she asked.

Mira took out the [Gold Dragon Scale], focusing on it. She needed more juice.

The scale began to break apart into tiny motes of gold that flowed over her outstretched arm and into her chest. She felt the power swell within her like an ocean wave building strength in a storm.

“Yeah,” she said with a smirk. “That’ll do nicely.”

As the scale broke down completely, her entire body was limned in golden shimmering light like the sort of auras her masters had back home.

Eyes shut once more, Mira formed the esoteric symbols with her hands again. The power came to her readily then, parting the sea of glyphs binding Hal. There were so many things wrong with the man, she was surprised he still functioned.

“One thing at a time,” she muttered to herself, diving deeper into the black abyss at Hal’s heart. “You’re supposed to be the hero of this story, dude. I’m just visiting. This is supposed to be a vacation you jerk!”

Hal’s body twitched, black swirls of shadow flickered into being around his forearm and then vanished. That was a good sign as far as Mira was concerned.

“Okay,” she said. “Not a vacation exactly, but I’m supposed to be keeping a low profile! This is my training montage. Whatever is out there is your villain to beat up on, I got enough of my own back home. Get up already and save these people!”

With a surge of power, Mira parted the darkness in Hal’s mind. The glyphs fled before the strength of her will. She had used a good portion of the scale’s power, but she could see Hal’s consciousness begin to surface.

Hal’s body suddenly seized. His back arched like a bow under full draw. Mira murmured soothing words, part magic, part kindness to calm him. She admitted to herself that she likely used a bit too much power in that last attempt.

The koblin had come forward in surprise and fear, only backing off when Hal began to relax. Under Mira’s care, Hal eventually calmed and his breathing evened out.

He would wake in time, she couldn’t risk forcing it any more than she already did. Mira’s elven hearing picked up a sharp, pain-soaked keening. Her heart broke at Komachi’s suffering. Not long after, a shimmer of prismatic light shone through the threadbare cloth of the tent.

Mira gently set Hal’s head down on a pillow and slipped out from beneath his head. She got up and stretched out her lanky form. “Something real bad must’ve happened for Komachi to go berserk like that.”

With great effort - because she deeply loved Komachi, more than anybody could know - Mira dismissed the pobul from her mind. She was gone. Likely warped out to some extradimensional pocket where she’d be safe.

Not that much could permanently harm the furry little princess, but pain was pain.

Still glowing like an anime character, Mira strode over to the koblin that had resumed her role as a sentry at the tent flap. “Keep him safe, eh?”

The koblin gave a sharp salute. They’re getting better at that, she thought with a nod and smile.

It was time to wreck those sons of benches.

A glance at her Dragon Scale gauge showed it full with golden, shivering scales. Mira parted the tent flap and stepped out into the chaos with a savage grin on her fair features.

Most of the [Gold Dragon Scale’s] power had been used up she began to realize as she whipped out her polearm with a flourish. But it would be enough.

Mira had stayed out of anybody’s party purely out of necessity. There might be enough questions from Noth, she didn’t need a whole host of people asking why her stats glitched out while she was using magic from another Worldshard.

Noth had been a calculated risk. She cared enough for Hal that if he pulled through she might not care how Mira saved him from that strange debuff.

Mira’s HP rocketed up to 5,200, then dropped back down. It jumped again to 4,730, then returned to normal once more as the rules of the Worldshard tried to reckon her present strength with the strength she had briefly revealed.

A strength that was from another Worldshard entirely.

As her stats settled down, Mira waded into the iced-over hole that monsters were already breaking through. Dozens of copies of the barbarian woman that had guided them through the Shiverglades were there fighting like a… well, like a band of barbarians.

Mira Jumped and soared into the sky, she marked a few targets quickly and thrust out her beautiful new polearm. Its graceful pointed tip was wickedly sharp and ornately worked to resemble a dragon diving at its prey.

From up high she noticed something odd, a growing swirl of darkness at the far southern end of the gap.

To her unaided eyes, it almost looked like the monsters were running away from it rather than being sent into battle.

Using Crashing Meteor, Mira rocketed toward the ground ahead of the slew of barbarians that were breaking like a wave over the horde of monsters.

She picked out the biggest, meanest looking mother-florker and crashed into the rocky creature. Her polearm firmly impaled in its iron-hard skin, the explosive, fiery magic of her ability collided with the monster.

The Void Golem dropped back, toppling over as tiny explosions forced cracks of light to spread all over its hardened skin. Mira Jumped back into the air before it even knew it was dead.

She didn’t leap directly up, however. Instead, she leaped at a steep angle so she could line up her next strike into another of those strange creatures.

Mira had never seen a Void Golem before, and she didn’t really like the way they looked. Deep purple skin that seemed to suck in the light around it, the creature looked squishy and weak.

But without the power of the [Gold Dragon Scale], Mira’s strongest attacks would have failed to pierce its incredible armor. And even with the full strength of Crashing Meteor, her polearm had barely driven a few inches into the creature’s flesh.

Reversing her momentum with Crashing Meteor, Mira came down hard on another Void Golem. One that couldn’t have possibly seen its fellow go down. And yet, it moved to intercept her as if her trick was old and known.

What the flork?

Halfway through Crashing Meteor, Mira canceled the ability and changed up her tactics. Sweeping her polearm about, she summoned the strength of a dragon to aid her.

Dragon’s Bite formed a golden dragon’s head - which looked a bit like Orrittam’s head, Mira thought - that extended far beyond her thrusting polearm. As she came down on the Void Golem, the ethereal golden jaws of the dragon snapped upon the monster, biting deeply into its purple flesh.

The Void Golem thrashed about, but as the golden image of the dragon’s head held the monster in place, Mira’s thrusting polearm took it center mass. The tip of her polearm slid almost a full foot into the monster’s chest.

Strange, she thought, noting how much deeper that thrust went in.

Kicking off its misshapen lump of a face, Mira landed upon a pile of monster corpses. With her scales fully charged, this was almost unfair.

Almost, she thought. But not quite.

While she felled two stronger monsters, there were many more that flooded into the valley.

165

Mira let the power of the [Gold Dragon Scale] flood into her polearm as she cocked back her arm. “Time to thin the ranks a little,” she said to the monsters surrounding her.

Thrusting her weapon forward, she called upon Drakesbane. A golden dragon appeared, larger than life - larger than any dragon Mira had ever heard of. It rushed out like a twisting helix of golden scales, vicious raking claws, and biting gilded teeth.

Monsters scattered before the attack, but the creature almost had a will of its own. It rushed about, twisting and coiling to bite and snap a monster in half or rake its claws across a creature’s back to bring it low.

Wherever the golden dragon went, monsters died by the score.

A person dropped beside Mira, and she turned to them with a shirt-eating grin that fell as soon as she saw who it was. “Did you see that? Man I’m awesome-”

Standing beside her was a man that might have once been handsome. She could just make out familiar angles of cheek and nose, but heavily scarred and partially obscured beneath the dark cowl the man wore.

But most striking of all was his eyes. Ruby red, and they were smoking. Mira’s jaw fell open as her mind was thrust back to Murkmire when Hal had turned into the Beast and thoroughly whooped all of them.

Well, I’m not half-dead like back then, she reasoned, gripping her polearm tightly. She still wasn’t sure whether or not this was Hal or something else.

The creature twisted toward her, its oily black cloak moved like a second skin. She noticed the fabric twisted strangely around the creature’s middle as if it had a hole there that was slowly pulling in its living robes.

Mira thrust with her polearm, swirling golden energy coiling around its length. With the ease of swatting a fly, the creature reached out with a black blade and swept Mira’s thrust aside.

Reacting faster than Mira had seen anybody move, he shoulder-rushed into her, throwing her back nearly a foot. She dug her boots into the soft earth, planting one boot against the corpse of a Rock Golem for good measure.

That hurt. What is this thing?

Before she could figure it out, the man rushed her again. It was all Mira could do to throw up her polearm before her.

That curved, black sword of his swept back and forth seeking a gap in her defense. But Mira was back on even footing now, she had a semblance of his skill and she wasn’t about to let him get the upper hand again.

Twisting and rolling her polearm at each of his cuts and thrusts, Mira managed to keep him at bay, but just barely. The monsters gave them both a wide berth, clearly afraid of the man. But that did nothing to stop them from assaulting her friends.

She had him at a standstill, but only so long as she was empowered with the [Gold Dragon Scale]. Eventually, its power would fade completely and she wouldn’t be able to hold back the man’s relentless hatred.

Mira could feel it rolling off him like a physical force. It assaulted her senses and reminded her more of a Shrike back home than anything that crawled out of Aldim’s lightless depths. She couldn’t see his name. Her prompts merely displayed question marks.

Then again her stats were still glitching, so maybe that was it.

A flash of pearly white teeth gleamed like moon-kissed daggers beneath the creature’s hood. It was all the warning Mira would get. Her white-knuckled grip on her polearm held it aloft to stifle the impossibly fast strike that fell from above and tried to cleave her in two.

Too late, she understood the feint for what it was.

While Mira had been fighting with both hands, the cloaked figure had been fighting with only a single blade. His other hand came out from the folds of his sleeve and thrust out under her defense.

A blast of frigid cold darkness hit her square in the chest. Mira was sent sailing through the air back toward the broken gap of the wall.

Her chest was on fire. Literally. Black flames licked at her scale mail, burning her and ignoring her frantic slaps to put them out.

The flames finally flickered out, dealing minimal damage to her HP but her armor looked like it was a hundred years old and had spent every year of that submerged in the depths of the ocean while Cthulhu used it as a dog toy.

Scales began to crumble and flake away.

Trying to right herself, Mira focused her innate Dragoon powers and Jumped, lifting herself higher and regaining some level of control over her momentum. She scanned the battlefield, spotting the newcomer.

Like a rage-filled beast, it attacked everything that came near. Black snaking tendrils of shadow lanced out of its robed sleeve and latched onto a nearby lizard monster the size of a minivan.

The creature squealed in pain and fright as the tendrils seemed to dive into the monster and… suction out its insides. What was left was a husk.

Mira took her eyes off the man for a second to choose a landing spot and when she looked back he was gone. She glanced around frantically, calling out to those below to be careful.

Which, she realized, was kind of obvious. The monsters weren’t dead, their numbers were diminished but there didn’t seem to be many of her friends who still had the strength to fight.

Everywhere around them was death. Mira landed lightly with the sort of grace that only a Dragoon could manage - and an elven one at that. She marched toward the gap, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Luda.

The barbarian’s copies were greatly diminished, every one that took some damage seemed to flicker and fade to nothing. But those that remained dogpiled on the remaining monsters with enough strength to hold back the tide.

Like the barbarian, they all battled with one injured arm, further selling the lie and making it harder to pick out the real one.

With Luda’s strange glowing shield helping to plug up the hole, they might be able to last until the dawn. Provided that hooded creature didn’t appear again. Mira anchored their line, such as it was, keeping the monsters constantly under pressure to stop them from running roughshod over each of them.

Luda’s barrier allowed Mira to unleash the last vestiges of her golden strength. She patted the younger girl’s shoulder. “Hey, you got room in your party?”

The younger girl turned an incredulous look Mira’s way. “You are not in a party? How is that- nevermind, yes,” she said through gritted teeth.

Luda invites you to her Party.

“Awesome, thanks. I’m going to take a quick look,” Mira said, pointing up to the slowly - too slowly for her tastes - lightening sky.

The red-haired girl gave her an understanding nod - the poor girl looked terrified - Mira Jumped high into the sky looking for that black-hooded thing that had hit her.

She spotted Noth to the side in her black armor, holding the western edge of the breach almost single-handedly. Even from so high up, Mira could see the rage the dark-haired woman was channeling. Every swipe of her obsidian scythe cut through fiend after fiend, but she never seemed to slow or tire.

When that hooded man first appeared, it had fallen beside her like an old friend. The last thing Mira wanted was for it to fall among the front line. The monsters might be scared of it, but she was experienced enough to know that would only make things worse for her friends.

Her experience with the Ghast back on her homeshard told her that a monster that was afraid was even more dangerous than one that was enraged.

She saw it again. More importantly, it saw her.

Mira felt its red piercing eyes hidden deep within that dark cowl stab into her heart as if it could suspend her in mid-air. The creature waded through the monsters, destroying or driving them before it.

Whatever semblance of organization the attack had quickly crumbled. The monsters were more focused on running away from the hooded figure. And that was never a good turn of events.

When Mira landed, she noted that the last of the barbarian’s copies were being protected by a line of other barbarians. Their line stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Mira’s and the remnants of the defenders that could still stand. It would have warmed her heart to see people of different race and creed standing in common cause if that thing wasn’t making its way toward them.

Mira’s golden aura began to fade, and she realized she’d only have one shot at taking the monster out. With the last of her altered strength, Mira Jumped high into the sky.

She quickly marked the man by the way the monsters fled before him. He saw her again but this time he wasn’t content to just glare at her dramatically from far away.

His dark robes morphed and twisted into dripping, oily wings. He beat them once, twice, and on the third beat, a rolling brume of shadow fell away beneath him. Mira lost sight of him between one eye-blink and the next, only to catch his dark form level with her some fifty feet away.

Mira’s face twisted into a grimace as she snarled and gathered up the last of her golden energy to strike at the monster masquerading as a man.

166

Hal awoke with a start, his whole body ached like somebody had tried to crush him with a steamroller, realized they didn’t quite finish the job and then backed up over him.

“We have company, get up!” Besal’s voice was near to panic. He had never heard him like that before.

Struggling to his feet, Hal looked about the tent. A koblin jumped for joy at seeing him awake and ran away shouting it to the others. Golden lightning jumped between his fingers. He still had plenty of EXP, he could Dominate a new round of monsters.

Hal left the tent, scooping up [Emissary] as he went.

“Look to the sky,” Besal said, directing his attention to a dark figure flapping large bat-like wings in the distance. Not far from his own position, Mira was rising in the sky, golden energy coiling around her like a python.

Reaching out with Dominate, Hal lifted his left hand toward the creature.

Nothing happened.

Not only did it fail to work, but Hal couldn’t even feel the Kol’thil’s energy there anymore. Something was wrong.

He tried again, nothing. None of his Sigils worked.

“He sees us,” Besal said, a sense of trepidation in his voice.

Hal turned his attention back to the black form hanging in the sky. He was behind and level Mira, so it wouldn’t be a surprise if the Dragoon thought she was the target.

But Hal could feel something wrong with the creature, something familiar and disturbing all at once. Its attention was fully on Hal, like a hunter finally recognizing its prey, it let out an otherworldly howl.

Without further hesitation, Hal reached out to Besal. In the same moment, he Spliced aberration, shadow, and eldritch. With Besal’s Second Verse, shadowy black wings veined with red sprouted from his back.

He was aloft a moment later.

As he gained altitude, Hal could see how badly things had deteriorated. More than a few bodies were strewn on the ground. He couldn’t find Ashera, Elora, or many of the dwarves. And the wall was broken. Luckily, the parts he Crystallized were still holding but the breach was still over fifty feet wide.

Passing by Mira he patted her on the shoulder and said, “Keep the wall secured. I’ll take care of this thing.” When she shot him a confused look, he called back, “I’m supposed to be the hero of this story, remember?”

He had heard her complaints, every single one of them while he was under. He owed Mira a great debt. She had wasted a considerable amount of her newly gained strength to bring him back from that strange darkness.

Too bad she couldn’t bring back his Kol’thil powers as well.

A smirk crossed Mira’s face and she allowed gravity to pull her back down. As she descended, a golden stream of fire erupted from her polearm, roasting the frantic monsters breaching the wall.

Hal dismissed her and the monsters below from his thoughts and beat his wings harder. The creature across the way did the same and they met in mid-air, [Emissary] clashing against a black curved sword.

They struggled each for a moment before Hal pulled back and used Goblin Rush. A shadowy sword struck out at the cloaked assailant, and to Hal’s utter horror, he saw the same spell mirrored.

The two phantasmal Goblin Rushes battled against one another. Shocked by what he just saw, and the realization of what he was facing, his opponent let loose another spell.

A black shadowy flame rushed out and hit Hal square in the chest. It felt like being hit by a semi-truck. He went flying away, his wings fluttering like useless bits of paper as he began to fall toward the ridge.

Black fire burned across his chest, but he snuffed it out easily by limning his body with eldritch energy from Deep Magic. It had been an automatic response, one he wasn’t even aware he could do until that moment.

Wings unfurling, Hal twisted about and tried to right himself. Flapping his wings as hard as he could, heedless of the SP drain, Hal managed to get enough lift to avoid smashing face-first into the sheer side of the eastern ridge.

Hal landed awkwardly atop the worked parapet Noth had created. There was a trio of koblins there… with Beedle of all things. They looked at Hal in shock as they loaded up colorful eggs in bright satchels tied to the side of Beedle.

“Go!” Hal said, seeing his opponent making a beeline for him. If he couldn’t Dominate or use his Sigils anymore, at least he could draw that thing away from the frontlines.

The koblins saluted and kicked the sides of Beedle like he was a common horse. Beedle unfurled his gossamer wings, buzzing them about in the air, and took off with the three koblins on his back.

Hal turned his attention back to the streaking black blur of his adversary. He lobbed a Bomb Toss his way, more to distract him than thinking it would actually hit its mark.

Unsurprisingly, another Bomb Toss launched out from the folds of the creature’s cloak. The two spells collided mid-air, once again negating each other.

With a curse, Hal realized he had just given away an advantage. In hoping to distract the thing from the easy target of the koblins that were now quickly flying toward the wall below, he had used Bomb Toss knowing - somehow - that it would use the same spell.

But he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to what would happen when both spells collided. The smoke they threw up drifted through the air, obscuring the other’s form.

Hal strained to peer through the murk.

Readying Convergence, Hal pumped everything he could into his Agility. He would have to be quick whenever that creature appeared again.

“Behind!” Besal shouted in his mind.

It only registered after Hal began to twist and drop low to avoid the slicing black sword how much he trusted Besal’s warnings. If he ever decided to go against him, it would only take one wrong warning for Hal to make a fatal mistake.

“We thrive together, or we die together,” Besal stated simply. Hal was in complete agreement.

With a speed that belied his frame, Hal swiped [Emissary] up into the creature’s extended sword, batting it aside with sudden strength as he shifted Convergence from AGI to STR at the last moment.

Hal dove forward with [Emissary], his opponent was wide open. Thrusting with all his might, Hal meant to run the man through.

Half an inch into that oily cloak of his, Hal’s sword hit something harder than steel. Harder than mythril. A wolfish grin appeared beneath the hood and Hal disengaged with lightning quickness thanks to Convergence, but it still wasn’t fast enough.

His opponent’s free hand shot out and a ball of crackling black lightning thrust out into Hal’s middle.

Pain and agony blinded Hal as he was nearly thrown off the parapet.

His back hit the crenellations hard, a full quarter of his HP dropped in that instant. Black lightning leaped and jumped all over his form, he struggled to shake off its paralyzing effects. He felt Thirty-seven’s strength flow through him, but for once Stalwart Soul wasn’t enough to resist the effect.

The creature came forward, a fierce wind whipped the cowl of his cloak back to reveal a familiar face. And one of Hal’s worst fears.

The [Kinslayer-36 | Lv.??] casts Dark Spark.

You take 170 points of damage.

Additional Effect: Paralysis.

Paralyzed, Hal could only look at his would-be killer, unable to act or move his painfully clenching muscles. The Kinslayer came forward, his black blade raised. He regarded Hal with a curious expression.

His face had once been like Hal’s but it was now scarred and aged, though still recognizable. The man’s brown eyes had a red gleam to them that fumed a violent stream of ruby-red energy reminiscent of the Beast.

“I thought you would be a more difficult renegade to put down,” the Kinslayer said in a gravelly voice. “The way they speak of you… as if you were another Thirty-seven!” He barked a sharp, acidic laugh and shook his head. “You are nothing like him. You are weak.

“I needn’t have bothered coming here, this pitiful cesspool would have done our job for us. But… I am here after all.” With a careless shrug, his black blade fell and Hal could do nothing but watch his doom.

167

Afflicted with paralysis, Hal was powerless to do anything to stop his imminent death.

But Besal was not so constrained.

A shadowy black hand reached out of Hal’s chest. In its hand was a roughly hewn bone blade. The Kinslayer’s blade rang out like a gonging bell against the bone weapon as the two met inches before that black blade would have ended Hal’s life.

Besal’s blade cracked, and his hand began to falter as the Kinslayer pressed the attack.

As Hal’s paralysis began to wear off, he quickly summoned forth rattling ethereal chains to loop around the chest and arm of the Kinslayer, dragging him backward.

Besal retreated back into Hal, and he could tell that single attack had cost him greatly. Besal was still recovering from their last Communion. Hal struggled to his feet, using the breathing space afforded by Enchainment to cast another spell.

Manatorpor went out, covering much of the parapet in its magical essence. It hadn’t been enough against the Voidbolger, and he doubted it would be enough against this latest foe. But Hal would need every advantage he could get.

The air shimmered and the Kinslayer’s struggling movements came a little slower. Not much, but enough that Hal could discern the difference. Hal cast Feather Barrier on himself, a shimmering shield of crystalline feathers rushed around him as the effect settled on his shoulders.

Within moments, the Kinslayer broke out of his bonds and lunged at Hal. Even with Convergence flooding his limbs with a burst of supernatural speed and strength, he barely avoided the cutting edge of that black blade.

Hal reached out one hand as if to whip the Kinslayer with a chain, only to remember too late that he had lost it in the fight with the Voidbolger. Quickly recovering, Hal cast Divebomb instead with his free hand.

The dark shadowy form of a diving bird with a 6-foot wingspan crashed into the Kinslayer and staggered him. Hal was surprised the man didn’t mirror his spell. Taking advantage of the momentary weakness, Hal lunged forward with [Emissary] into the man’s exposed side.

And once again, the blade barely sank half an inch before it met ultimate resistance. Hal didn’t retract his blade, however, and continued the press. The blade began to sink again as if he was pushing [Emissary] through a thick gel.

Recovering, the Kinslayer swept out with his free hand, crackling black energy visible even in the deep folds of his sleeve. Hal disengaged, leaping back with the aid of Convergence.

There was something about the cloak. As Hal barely managed to pick off the reach of that black blade, he thought back to the way the Kinslayer moved.

With a flowing black robe, he only used a single blade held in one hand. His other hand was clearly there to take advantage of any errors his opponent might make, and he constantly showed an opening in his wide, sweeping attacks.

Each attack allowed the Kinslayer to hit harder than usual, but it left him wide-open. Or so one would think. His cloak was nearly impenetrable, but not invulnerable.

Hal leaned back, receiving a slight nick across his cheek as the Kinslayer compensated for the dodge and leaned in at the last moment. Even slowed, the Kinslayer was finding his rhythm, taking Hal’s measure, and adapting to suit.

He was less experienced, had less knowledge, and was overall weaker than his opponent. His only advantage was his Sigils, and those were stripped away. Besal was weakened. His [Chain of Binding] was gone.

Why did I think I could do this? he caught himself thinking.

“Because you saw your friends in danger. And, fool that you are, you charged in before you took a measure of the situation before you,” Besal said, but softened his voice and added, “But that is what makes you… you. You are reckless when your friends are in danger, it lends you strength. Use that.”

Backing away, Hal continued to dodge and parry the Kinslayer’s attacks as best he could. A few cuts got in, but his enhanced armor helped to soften the blows. Even still, Hal’s armor was stained red after a brief exchange.

The Kinslayer was hardly winded.

Reversing his tactic of staying away as he tried to find a weakness in his opponent, Hal rushed in with a burst of Convergence-laden Agility. The Kinslayer’s red-fuming eyes widened at that fractionally.

Hal summoned an eldritch infused goblin bomb to his hand and lowered his leading shoulder. He lobbed his Bomb Toss between the Kinslayer’s legs rather than at him. The Kinslayer began casting his own Bomb Toss but the sudden direction of Hal’s spell caused a moment of confusion.

The spell went off, exploding with angry red eldritch energy, and throwing the Kinslayer forward with sudden brutal force that disrupted his spellcasting. Hal set his feet and took [Emissary] in both hands.

The Kinslayer should have been skewered on his blade, but instead, the same thing happened as before. The tip of [Emissary] went in fractionally, but then suddenly met unimaginable resistance.

Hal realized at that moment, that it wasn’t because of some armor he had on beneath. Up so close, Hal could see the cloak tighten around the blade as if it were gripping it.

He extricated himself as fast as possible, realizing he was too close to the Kinslayer for his own good. A slash of the black blade caught him from hip to shoulder, opening up a deep wound that would have spelled his end if not for his shadow-tempered armor.

The black blade screeched across the half plate on his chest. While the hardier plate prevented the worst of it, the cruel blade still bit deeply above and below the armor, taking off a tenth of his HP in a single strike.

Well below half his HP, Hal staggered back. Tapping Assimilation, using Besal’s reserves, Hal recovered his HP back to 80% before the Kinslayer rushed at him again.

He didn’t miss much, as soon as the bleeding had stopped the man appeared to understand what Hal was doing.

Tiring, Hal tried to use Goring Blade to cut through the cloak or at least damage its strange properties somehow. The Kinslayer picked off each strike with obvious disdain.

“You would use such a low Level Weaponskill on me?” he mocked. “How you ever escaped Murkmire is beyond me. My brothers must be getting soft.”

Hal twisted and slashed out with [Emissary], using his mana to activate its increased damage. The Kinslayer caught the glowing crystalline edge with his own slim black sword and held it as Hal pressed with all the strength Convergence could give him.

“Why do you even care?” Hal asked through bloodied, gritted teeth. “I don’t want anything to do with Rinbast!”

Using both hands to steady his blade and slowly push against Hal’s inferior strength, the Kinslayer’s hateful gaze bore into Hal’s very soul. “Because you escaped! What right of freedom do you have!” With a burst of strength, the Kinslayer forced Hal away.

He stumbled and fell to one knee, sliding across the smoothly worked stone.

The Kinslayer pulled up one voluminous sleeve and showed Hal a heavily modified Kol’thil. It was branded with the number 36 and the flesh around it was angry and raised as if it had just recently happened.

But most striking of all to Hal was the Kol’thil itself. It was the same design as Hal’s, but it wasn’t gold. It was dark like iron.

“It never heals!” the Kinslayer shouted at him. “His control is absolute, his will is law! What right do you have to such freedom? You escaped! I cannot suffer you to live. Your very freedom mocks my existence.

“I sense a fraction of my brother’s essence in you, but it will not be enough to save you. I have weighed and measured you, boy. You are nothing. A babe lost in the woods. You have nothing more to show me.”

The Kinslayer leveled his free hand toward Hal.

Struggling to rise, Hal watched as a spiral of black water gathered around the Kinslayer’s hand like a rotating drill.

The air buzzed as it spun. Hal had to reach deep within himself to conjure a shell of Bone Armor to surround his body and protect him from the attack.

He was just in time. No sooner had the bone formed around him than the Kinslayer lunged forward.

Hal fell back to one knee but used it to brace himself against the pressing black water drill. He was buying himself seconds at a great cost to his MP. The Kinslayer laughed at his pitiful attempt to buy a few more moments of life.

“Besal, you still there?” Hal asked.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be, might as well die beside you,” Besal said.

“You’re a completely separate entity from me, aren’t you? I mean, even before our last Communion, you were able to be separate from me.”

“It taxed me profoundly, the weakness yet lingers.”

“But you have been recovering, haven’t you?” Hal said, as he began to shift his mana away from Bone Armor and into another spell. One he hadn’t used in an age.

“You already know I feed on Strain, why do you bother asking?”

“Because I have a terrible idea.”

Hal released Bone Armor, letting the defensive shell break at the same moment he cast Warding on Besal.

168

Hal’s Bone Armor shell broke apart, the black-water drill reaching in as the bone crumbled. No matter how fast Hal might have been with Convergence, there was no way he could have avoided the coming strike.

It was a good thing his plan relied entirely on getting hit.

The Kinslayer’s drill lunged for Hal’s heart. His armor, once more proving its worth, didn’t afford his would-be killer a direct hit. Reaching up with his free hand, Hal grasped the Kinslayer’s forearm knowing full well he wouldn’t have the strength to stop him.

A shimmering barrier of light flickered and whisked away just as the spiraling black water pierced Hal’s half plate armor and reached deep into his shoulder. White-hot agony laced through Hal’s mind, blunting his thoughts.

What stood out most of all to Hal was the Kinslayer’s look of abject pain and anguish, of sorrow. He hadn’t expected that. It almost gave him pause.

Almost.

The [Kinslayer-36 | Lv.??] uses Sinker Drill.

You take 502 points of damage (-50% Warding).

A layer of Warding is removed.

That should have killed him. It only occurred to him at that moment how close he came to death. His HP was redlining, with barely 40 HP to his name he was at the edge of death.

Good, he thought sluggishly, it’ll sell the lie.

Hal was a little surprised the trick worked. Besal was technically another entity. A person entirely his own, or at least enough that the spell seemed to think so.

He couldn’t cast Warding on himself, that just wasn’t the Oathforger way apparently. However, he could cast it on another person. And Besal was within Hal, which meant casting it on him technically warded Hal as well.

The spell could have failed spectacularly and only protected Besal somehow. But that was a risk he was willing to take. He couldn’t fight the Kinslayer alone, he was too powerful. Too in command of strength that Hal couldn’t come close to matching.

But with Besal at his side… they might stand a chance. And something about the Kinslayer’s cloak was bothering him. He felt like he was right on the edge of understanding it before the last attack.

The Kinslayer dropped his sword to the side and stared into Hal’s glassy eyes. Unfocusing them wasn’t a difficult task, considering the raging torrent of pain that blasted through him. The numbness of shock soon followed, and right on cue the cold embrace of near-death.

“What right do you have to live!” the Kinslayer yelled, though his voice sounded so very far away. “What makes you so special? You escaped, and once you did he let you go!”

Hal’s grip on the Kinslayer’s arm was weakening. It was now or never.

Activating Soul Drain, Hal tightened his grip on the Kinslayer’s forearm. With his hand deep in Hal’s profusely bleeding wound, the Kinslayer thought he had already won.

Too late, he realized what Hal was doing in the middle of his screaming rant as if he had to justify killing Hal somehow.

Hal didn’t want his HP, his STR, or any of those mundane stats. No, he was after something far more valuable. Something he could sense the Kinslayer had a surprisingly large stock of.

He wanted the Kinslayer’s Strain.

The Kinslayer’s eyes shot open, the red fuming glow faded rapidly as Hal latched onto the man’s Strain and pulled.

Corruption flooded Hal’s veins in such a massive quantity that even with his reduction to incoming Strain, he quickly jumped from the first to the second Strain Affliction Level in the blink of an eye.

“No!” the Kinslayer cried, brown eyes going wide and fearful. “You can’t!”

His Strain was different than Hal’s. Whereas Hal felt a twist in his stomach like he was about to get sick from his own kind of Strain, this Strain felt like somebody was trying to drag his intestines out of his navel.

There was a chaotic strength that Hal’s Strain lacked. It rampaged through his dying body, empowering him in ways he couldn’t begin to track. The Kinslayer had clearly taken the Ruby Stars path for his Beast Magic, whereas Hal had taken the Azure Fate path.

The blood-red hatred that coursed through Hal’s veins was evidence enough. He struggled to control and channel it into Besal, draining it away from his weakened body.

But it was too much for Hal to even begin to control. The more Strain he pulled, the stronger he became. Tapping Assimilation, Hal pulled at Besal’s deepening wellspring of power, replenishing his own resources.

Wounds reknit, forcing the Kinslayer’s hand out of his shoulder and lending new, frightening strength to his grip. Red fumes of Strain began to waft off Hal’s body as his Strain Affliction Level climbed ever higher.

He was falling into the torrent of rage and insanity.

Strain Affliction Lv.3 (Feral).

More Beast than Man, the corrupting influence of so much Strain has warped your mind until you can scarcely recognize friend from foe. Your thoughts are clouded by a need to do harm, but somehow you yet retain control, but only just.

Your constant use of Strain and its corrupting properties has begun to change you in body, mind, and soul. Irreparable mutations may occur with every additional Level of Strain Affliction.

Beast Magic Efficacy +150% | Beast Magic Damage +150%

Essence Tier +1 | Beast Magic Tier +1

Max HP +25% | Max MP +25%

HP Regen: +25% | MP Regen +25%

MP Cost -15% | Strain Accumulation +50%

Unlocked Ability: Essence Siphon

Leech the essential life force of a creature, drawing out its Essence in its purest form.

Unlocked Ability: Diffusion

Expend Strain to empower attacks and spells.

With an empowered shove, Hal threw the Kinslayer away and rose to his feet. He was only distantly aware that both of their swords lay at his feet.

He didn’t need them.

Hal could smell that the Kinslayer wasn’t Splicing anything. He was using his Beast Magic powers, but he wasn’t using them in the right way. The man was far too experienced to be ignorant of their purpose and that gave Hal a moment’s pause.

A strange twisting motion, like water flowing down a drain, drew his eye to the Kinslayer’s chest where his black oily cloak seemed to be drawn into the Kinslayer.

He didn’t give it much chance to hold his thoughts as Hal lobbed an eldritch-infused Bomb Toss at the Kinslayer. At the last moment, the Kinslayer Spliced dragon essence and lobbed his own Bomb Toss at Hal.

The two opposing essences created a twisting scar in the air where their explosion should have been. Wind rushed all around them, tainted and foul as the implosion collapsed upon itself with a brief crackling sound.

For a moment, the pair stared curiously at each other.

Hal had never fought another person using Beast Magic, and despite the Kinslayer’s age, he apparently hadn’t either.

This was new for both of them.

Divebomb came next, shifting to aberration, Hal empowered the spell into a gruesome mockery of its shadowy phantasmal self. The spell came out dripping blood and twisted with spiked bone.

The Kinslayer pulled back both of his fists to rest at his sides and opened his jaw wide. A screeching sound belted out of his mouth. Hal didn’t directly know the spell, but he could sense the arcana essence of a mimic on it.

Hal dove to the side, aided by the beating heart of Strain within him. He lashed out with a tendril of plantoid essence as he rapidly Spliced once more and made full use of Deep Magic to alter the essence of his attacks.

When the two spells collided, Hal expected another implosion. Instead, they created an impossibly strong explosion that pushed the pair apart. Hal went right over the edge of the parapet.

The lashing vine of plantoid essence was meant to snare the Kinslayer, but the explosion blew them apart with such force that Hal never came anywhere near striking the man.

But he was fortunate for making the essence-limb all the same. As he was blasted off the parapet, he curled the limb across one of the crenellations, arresting his fall. A look down the sheer cliff reminded him that he would have fallen a very long way indeed.

Yanking himself up to the parapet, Hal found the Kinslayer similarly getting to his feet. That twisting motion at his chest was speeding up, the cloak thinning to reveal more of the man’s muscular body.

If Hal could have cut through the rage and madness clouding his mind, he might have understood what it meant. But he couldn’t. He was just as trapped in the cycle of hatred and anger as the Kinslayer seemed to be.

A pair of large essence-wings erupted from Hal’s back as he Spliced eldritch, shadow, and aberration. They erupted from his back and spread out wide to either side. He wouldn’t allow himself to be defeated simply because he fell.

Across from him, the Kinslayer responded in kind.

169

White bone, streaked with angry red lines, braced tattered shadowy skeins of essence that erupted from Hal’s back. The ends of his much larger wings were possessed of cruel aberration tips that could rend and rip like gaff hooks.

The Kinslayer’s wings were clearly meant to be in direct opposition of Hal’s. Stone etched with glowing runes made up the Kinslayer’s “bone,” golem essence, while the wings were leathery and powerful with a deep crimson hue.

The similarity to a dragon’s wings was unmistakable.

There was a sense of majesty to the Kinslayer’s wings that Hal’s lacked. While Hal’s were functional and far stronger than anything he could normally make, they were almost crude in comparison.

Had he been in his right mind, it would have been a clear reminder that the Kinslayer was more practiced than Hal was, and a far more seasoned essence hunter besides.

Hal swept an arm out, casting Goblin Rush laced with plantoid essence. The Kinslayer sent out the very same spell, but shifted it to vermin. The Kinslayer’s Goblin Rush consumed Hal’s in the blink of an eye and rushed toward Hal.

Curling his wings defensively around himself, Hal summoned Deep Magic to form a fiery black barrier of eldritch and shadow across his sheltering wings. The spell hit but did minimal damage as the fires consumed the fell magic as easily as he would swat aside a meager blow.

Unfurling his wings, Hal fought to understand what that meant. Or even how he managed such a feat. He was going purely on instinct, even Besal’s voice was oddly quiet. He had expected Besal to take over, instead, it seemed they were both plunged into the depths of chaos.

Back and forth they went, lobbing spells aligned to one essence or another as each tried to outdo the other. Hal threw out an aberration and shadow Divebomb.

The two essences were in direct opposition to each other. It should have never worked, the spell should have simply broken apart as soon as Hal released it. And yet he knew he could keep it together.

To his surprise, the Kinslayer’s eyes only widened in horror at the way the spell seemed to be constantly unmaking and reforming itself. The Divebomb’s wings broke away, then sprouted anew with bloodied bone and twisting sinew.

The spell’s shadowy beating wings and blood-red eyes streaked into the Kinslayer as he threw up his wings to shield himself too late to do any good. The spell slipped within his defenses, and Hal launched himself in the air toward the man.

Injured, but far from crippled, the Kinslayer spread his wings with a furious roar. Out lashed his hand, and Hal realized he couldn’t hope to defend against the attack.

So he didn’t.

Hal extended out his own hand, holding onto a sizzling Bomb Toss. Combining the volatile mix of aberration and shadow, the ethereal bomb nearly blew apart in his hand as the Kinslayer let fly his spell.

An arc of lightning blasted out from his hand, hitting Hal square in the chest. It collided with explosive force dropping a quarter of Hal’s HP. He accepted the hit, flapping his large wings to compensate for the sudden shift, pushing him onward.

The Kinslayer couldn’t get another spell off by the time Hal collided with him. He jabbed his Bomb Toss into the twisting wound at the Kinslayer’s chest, and to his surprise, his hand easily dived inside with hardly any resistance.

Once his hand was within, he released the explosive, unstable bomb, and kicked off the Kinslayer.

But the Kinslayer wasn’t stupid, just as Hal had accepted a hit in exchange for dealing a more substantial blow to his foe, the Kinslayer had closed his expansive wings around Hal.

Like a massive venus flytrap, the Kinslayer’s wings caged Hal within. His thick arms wrapped around Hal, trying to pull him into a tight embrace.

Brown eyes replaced once more by red fuming hatred, the Kinslayer stared face-to-face with Hal. In those eyes, Hal could see his madness and hatred reflected.

It brought forth a semblance of cogent thought.

At that moment, Hal realized the connection he hadn’t fully grasped before. Every time the Kinslayer had used Beast Magic, the wound on his chest had grown. The black oily cloak had grown thinner and less substantial.

Whether he did it intentionally from within the swirling red-misted chaos or not didn’t matter. Hal had forced the Kinslayer to draw strength away from whatever he was battling in order to fend off Hal’s magic.

“You don’t know what you’ve done,” the Kinslayer said with a grimace. “I’ve held off the corruption of our fell magic for ages, but this… void within me….” He shook his head with a grimace. “I held it back with Strain, and with my Beast Magic, but you had to force me to extend myself too far. This will consume me before long. And I’ll make sure I take you with me!”

Hal’s Bomb Toss exploded inside the Kinslayer.

The pair were blown apart, Hal’s HP halved again as he was thrown and tumbled hard against the stone floor. The Kinslayer had fallen to his knees, grasping at his chest.

His living cloak slipped within the twisted wound on his chest. It was a deep, black wound the likes of which Hal had never seen before. At its center was a horrifying bead of darkness that had no equal... except one.

It reminded him of the Abyss, and that thought filled Hal with unimaginable dread that broke through the red madness that clouded his mind.

A beating heart of darkness, a black hole the size of Hal’s fist formed from that darkness and pulled at the air around him. The Kinslayer’s body twisted and aged. Black veins of corruption ran all around his limbs as they became strangely emaciated.

The strength and muscle the Kinslayer had once possessed wasted away in moments. He became something twisted and sad. Throughout it all the Kinslayer stared with burning hatred at Hal. His red-fuming eyes faded and turned black as coal. Lifeless.

A darkness deeper than even the corruption of Beast Magic had come to inhabit the Kinslayer. Down below in the gap, monsters screamed and wailed in a frenzy.

Rising to his feet, Hal summoned Bomb Toss one after the other, lobbing the unstable aberration-shadow bombs at the Kinslayer.

Three spells in rapid succession threatened to pull his awareness away as his Strain jumped up to the cusp of another Level.

With a sickening series of cracks, the Kinslayer twisted its head to regard the arcing bombs. His emaciated blue-tinged hands turned into twin claws and the black hole at the center of his chest began to pull at the air with so much force that Hal slid toward the creature a few inches.

The very light of Hal’s miniature sun seemed to dim for a moment as the bombs were pulled inside that abyssal darkness. Unlike before, they did not detonate. They simply disappeared, shrinking down to nothingness as if falling down an impossibly deep hole.

Looking at Hal with those dead, coal-black eyes, the Kinslayer gave him a rictus of a grin. “I do not know how you manage an impossible feat of mixing opposing essences. But it hardly matters.”

He took a shaky step toward Hal, then another. The stone cracked beneath each step, the bits of stone that broke free whipped up into the Kinslayer’s black hole of a heart.

“You will die here,” the Kinslayer rasped. “This power that flows through me… you have reached the pinnacle of your strength. I can see that clearly now. And I have eclipsed you in ways you could not possibly comprehend.

“Perhaps Rinbast saw some spark of himself in you. I know of nobody else that could wield Beast Magic as you do. Weak as you are, you should have been ripped apart trying to keep those opposing forces in check. But such a feeble trick will not serve you against the power of the Shadesblight that courses through my veins.”

“It’ll consume you,” Hal said, strangely sure of his assumption.

Elaise hadn’t explained much about the voidmist, but he knew well enough that it was almost always a death sentence to be touched by it. If it managed to infect the person, they changed into something hideous.

Hal stared at the inexorable march of the Kinslayer, as he did his name changed. It shifted into something else. Hal didn’t quite understand the meaning behind it.

Voidwracked Kinslayer meant nothing to him.

But he couldn’t deny Elaise’s fears whenever she spoke of the voidmist and what it did to a person. It was why they wore those swirling tattoos. Without those strange items they gave to Hal’s Guild to ward off the voidmist, would this have been their fate as well?

Hal was struck, suddenly, by how close to ruin they were. The voidmist lurked just outside of the manaseed’s barrier. Without it, they would have all succumbed to the same corruption at the Voidwracked Kinslayer before him.

Any remaining thoughts were driven from his head as the Voidwracked Kinslayer launched himself at Hal.

170

The black swirling water of Sinker Drill rolled over the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s hand. Hal’s Warding was on its last layer, even with it and the strength of his Strain Affliction, he wasn’t sure he could survive another hit.

Working quickly, Hal fell to one knee and swept his left arm up and out to bat aside the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s attack at the last moment. Red mist curled around Hal’s arm as he struggled to keep the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s spell away from him.

And all the while, Hal stared into the abyssal darkness of that black hole. He could feel his strength siphoned away into it. Swirling red chaos rolled off his body and funneled into that heart of darkness.

As it did, Hal’s limbs grew heavy. He couldn’t keep this up.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer’s Sinker Drill began to twist back toward Hal. His arms shook with the effort of slowing him, but it was a fruitless endeavor.

Hal reached in and conjured Divebomb, knowing it would push him over the edge into a new Level of Strain Affliction. It would, however, do nothing so close to that terrible black hole.

He didn’t know what would happen, or if he’d retain any semblance of control as he did now, but the alternative was worse. He was effectively ‘holding the wolf by the ears’ as the saying went.

As he expected, the spell flew from him and was almost immediately consumed by the black hole in the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s chest. A moment before his sanity was ripped away, he noticed that the man’s arm weakened ever-so-slightly at the same moment the spell was absorbed.

Pain and confusion swirled in Hal, drawing him far away from the battlefield as new strength flooded his limbs.

Strain Affliction Lv.4 (Primal).

Your control dangles by a thread. Corruption runs rampant through your body. Lose your focus for but a moment and the corruption will take root, mutating your physical body in unknowable ways.

Beast Magic Efficacy +300% | Beast Magic Damage +300%

Essence Tier +2 | Beast Magic Tier +2

Max HP +50% | Max MP +50%

HP Regen: +65% | MP Regen +65%

MP Cost -25% | Strain Accumulation +100%

Unlocked Ability: The Dark Between

Summon otherworldly darkness from beyond the farthest stars in a 30ft cloud. All other creatures within take Corruption Damage and are Blinded, Muted, and Deafened. Only the Beast can see within the impossible darkness.

Unlocked Trait: Beyond the Veil

While within the corrupting shroud of The Dark Between, you gradually recover HP.

The fierce build-up of Strain forced the two away from each other in a red-and-blue-tinged swirl of chaotic energy. Ruby lightning arced across Hal’s new body, one black as pitch with long claws instead of fingernails.

Unlike before, he wasn’t shoved into some nameless pit. He was there, alongside Besal. Hal tried to flex his hands. To his surprise, his limbs responded.

“Interesting,” Besal said, and he could feel that Besal was speaking with his voice. They were, somehow, both in command of his body.

“Are you doing this?” Hal asked, again it felt odd to speak to himself so plainly. He tried to subvocalize but found he couldn’t. They were both drawn to the front. “What’s going on?”

“This is new to me too,” Besal said, rising to his feet and looking down at the pitch-black substance that coated their hands.

A new prompt flashed across their vision.

Synchronization Rate: 79%

As Hal watched, trying to move one limb to conjure a spell while Besal used another, the synchronization rate fell.

It was only a single percent lost, but it felt like somebody had driven a hot spike into his wrist. Judging by the growl of pain coming from Besal’s deeper, throatier voice - how he managed to do that with Hal’s vocal cords, Hal didn’t really know - he felt it too.

“We need to work in concert,” Hal said. “Everything we do must be of the same mind.”

“Or you could fall back and let me lead this,” Besal said. “Do you even know how to use our new abilities?”

He had a point.

Hal had been a bystander watching Besal wreak havoc, and that was at a point when Hal was fairly weak. Compared to his strength now, it was like night and day.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer gathered himself up and rushed across the broken stone of the parapet at Hal. He let Besal assume control, and took a step back.

Besal used The Dark Between, tearing a black rent across time and space just as the Voidwracked Kinslayer came at him. A flood of darkness rushed out, stifling all light and providing enough of a distraction to leap aside from the Kinslayer’s attack.

Synchronization: 70%

The pain hit a heartbeat later, Besal stumbled to one knee while Hal braced their body with an arm. That wasn’t working. Giving over control was even worse than acting as two separate entities controlling the same body.

Hal came back to the forefront, there was no being subservient to the other. They had to work together. As one.

The pulsing strength of Strain was like a second heartbeat within their chest. He had thought he knew power, but this was something beyond anything he had ever understood.

Unlike the Voidwracked Kinslayer, the pair could see within the unnatural darkness around them. More than that, they were able to rapidly heal all of their wounds.

It only hit at that moment that ever since he woke up, the Founder’s Day buff was gone. But even without it, his HP and MP were significantly higher than they had ever been before. For the first time ever, his HP crested above 1,000 to 1,012. His MP was even higher at a ridiculous 1,252.

All of his Beast Magic spells were more than triple their previous strength, and cost a quarter of their usual. For a brief moment, Hal thought to turn aside from the battle before him and dive down to his friends below.

With eyes enhanced beyond anything he was used to, he could pick out Noth below alongside Mira and a contingent of treants that the Palebark Treant had dutifully awoken to bolster their ranks.

The battle seemed to be at a standstill. With his newfound strength, he could go down there and almost single-handedly clear the gap and secure the breach.

“We can’t,” Besal said.

And though Hal wanted to argue, desperately, he knew Besal was right. For as much as he could descend upon the Shadesblight enemies below, so too could the Voidwracked Kinslayer wreak the same havoc on his friends.

They were the only thing holding back the creature’s murderous rage.

Together, they conjured a Bomb Toss and lobbed it the charging Voidwracked Kinslayer. It looked unlike anything Hal had ever seen before.

Rather than a patchwork goblin bomb, it was a smooth swirling mass of violent red-and-black energy. It was too much effort to work in tandem while keeping the opposing essences of aberration and shadow as Hal would usually go for. Instead, they opted for shadow and eldritch.

The condensed swirling bomb of mana was nearly sucked up into the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s black hole when they detonated it by command half a foot from the man’s chest.

A colossal explosion leveled the parapet, throwing huge chunks of stone across the gap to rain down on the monsters below. Many were crushed, dozens more injured to the point that they were useless by the time they reached the breach.

Hal and Besal were thrown back from the blast. Their massive black wings swept through the air, twisted and shifting in ways that were quite unnatural as the pair worked to steady themselves.

Before the smoke could clear, the Voidwracked Kinslayer sent his reply. A crackling black bolt of lightning that struck them like a meteor.

As one, the pair shielded themselves with pure essence. A rift of fiery black-red energy rolled off their body and rose up to meet the spell. It blasted through, but was significantly diminished.

That mattered little when a full damage spell would have killed them outright. Hal and Besal were thrown back farther away from the Settlement and closer to the edge of the manaseed’s barrier where the voidmist pressed relentlessly for any weakness.

You cast Bomb Toss IV.

The [Voidwracked Kinslayer | Lv.??] takes 1,219 points of damage.

The [Voidwracked Kinslayer | Lv.??] casts Void Anvil Lightning.

You take 489 points of damage (-75% Essence Deflection).

You learn Essence Deflection.

Utilizing pure essence (requires tier 3 or higher), you are able to filter offensive magic through the essence, reducing their incoming damage.

A grin creased their darkened features, as a semblance of control came back to the pair. Hal had never seen so much damage outside of an Ultimate. Nor had he ever known they could wield essence in that manner.

Raising a hand together, they summoned red crackling eldritch energy to flood across their outstretched arm. With a burst of speed, the pair launched their body at the Voidwracked Kinslayer.

171

Noth looked up high on the eastern wall fencing in the gap, a wide-eyed expression plastered on her face.

She wasn’t alone.

Many others watched with a mixture of fear and fascination. Noth could hardly blame them. Even from such a distance, she could feel the waves of mana pulsing from the duel high up on the eastern ridge.

Two dark forms battled for dominance, and at times even Noth couldn’t tell the difference between them. Ribbons of ruby red mana met coruscating lines of sapphire blue, setting off brilliant flashes of light amid the occluding clouds of darkness.

Hal’s voice, so full of uncertainty and worry came back to her. “What’s the difference between a man and a monster?” he had asked. Though she realized now, that he wasn’t actually asking her.

That question was for Hal to answer.

At that moment, in a lull between fights at the breach, Noth understood Hal’s fears and worries. She had seen the Beast take control, had even helped Ashera face it.

But this was something else entirely.

The levels of power it was giving off was troubling, she had rarely seen strength like that in all her long years as a Reaper. And when she had… it was never good.

That much power was a drug few could resist. Despite herself, she feared for Hal. She didn’t know if he was strong enough to resist the allure.

Noth wasn’t sure anybody was strong enough for that.

Unlike before, the dark creature above was as much Hal as the Beast. Something about that worried her. Noth wasn’t sure if she was worrying too much… or not enough.

A grasping clawed hand reached for her as she was distracted by another powerful clash. Bright lines of pain were drawn down her cheek and she snapped her attention back to the battle.

Before Noth could spin her scythe up and deflect the follow-up attack, a thick pale bough bent down and fended the creature off. Back on even footing, Noth sprang up on a lowered branch from the Palebark Treant and launched herself back into the fray.

She couldn’t spend her time worrying about Hal.

* * *

The Voidwracked Kinslayer leaned back, thrusting out his chest. It cast Void Acceleration again. Sweeping ribbons of darkness rolled out from the black hole.

Anything that it touched withered and broke apart.

The parapets were laid to waste. Dwarven craftsmanship couldn’t withstand the rolling waves of essence that the pair were throwing at each other. Every so often the Voidwracked Kinslayer pulled out yet another void-based spell that set Besal and Hal back on their heels.

Using Diffusion, they were able to stabilize their Strain, but it was fast turning into a battle of attrition. For as much damage as Hal and Besal were able to put out, the Voidwracked Kinslayer was always a step ahead.

Even with their cunning use of Essence Deflection, the pair were taking considerable damage. Ironically, once they were both in control, Warding stopped working.

Their only advantage was that they possessed eldritch essence, one of the few essences that the Voidwracked Kinslayer didn’t have. Not that it mattered much when he could easily counter with dragon essence, or use an essence that Hal didn’t possess like aquan or amorph.

Hal led the next attack, a wave of blood-red aberration essence that rolled off his sweeping clawed hand like a ragged wound in the air. The attack managed to survive the sweeping ribbons of void magic. Just to be sure Hal swept forward with his left hand, letting loose a wave of eldritch essence that crackled with spiteful lightning.

Just as fast, he reversed and leaped into the cloud of impenetrable darkness. Even the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s black hole heart couldn’t touch that haven. Had it been able to, the fight would have been over soon after he ascended to Primal Strain.

Within The Dark Between, Hal and Besal could rapidly heal their many wounds. But now that they were joined, they were quickly burning through their MP without growing any stronger.

Neither knew what would happen if they hit Strain Affliction Level 5. As far as Hal knew, that would spell the end for him. Was it worth dying to destroy the Kinslayer?

Every time Hal thought they were able to rise above the twisted man, he managed to pull out another move that nearly spelled their doom.

A crackling arc of black lightning lanced through the darkness, narrowly missing them. The only silver lining was Hal’s Manatorpor was still in effect.

Though it barely seemed to slow the Voidwracked Kinslayer, the Arcana Siphon from his Manatree Skill allowed him to recover some of the MP being exhausted within its area of influence.

It wasn’t enough. Even with the multitude of buffs, Hal and Besal were still losing. Slowly but surely, the Voidwracked Kinslayer was getting stronger and every minute they fought the wily Kinslayer, the man began to understand his new powers better.

Had it been a test of Beastborne powers, Hal and Besal would have already claimed dominance. It was clear the Kinslayer thought the same considering his increasing reliance on those bizarre void spells.

Another Void Anvil Lightning reached out for them, but the Voidwracked Kinslayer couldn’t see through the impenetrable murk and it went wide. He could - and had - used large area spells that consumed the whole space, but that just gave Hal and Besal time to dodge aside.

Though it did force them to flee from their safe haven for a time.

The Kinslayer had already learned not to wade into the darkness. He was more than happy to sit outside the roiling black. Any spell leveled his way by Hal and Besal was often consumed by that devilish black hole in the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s chest.

Hal paused and squinted, looking through the darkness. “The black hole is growing,” Hal muttered to himself, and by extension, to Besal.

“I’ve noticed that too. It seems to be consuming him. And as it grows, so too does his power. We are barely matching him.”

Another thunderous report announced another streak of lightning, this one coming close enough to Hal and Besal that they could feel the incredible icy cold of its void magic.

“I want to test something, think we can ricochet his lightning back at him?” Hal asked quietly.

“Only one way to find out,” Besal said.

Using Convergence the pair waited with bated breath, hoping that their opponent hadn’t tired of their game.

When the air began to charge with energy, they leaped out of the darkness, summoning a hardened shell of crimson aberration and eldritch essence across their forearm.

Just in time too. Void Anvil Lightning struck out from the Voidwracked Kinslayer and at the last moment, they swept aside the aberration and eldritch essence bracer.

Using aberration essence, Hal and Besal thought they were able to not just deflect but reflect the attack back at its caster. Unfortunately, Void Anvil Lightning was not one, but two elements.

And while aberration essence was an appropriate counter to the base Anvil Lightning’s arcana essence, eldritch essence was a poor substitute for whatever void’s opposing force was.

The spell was appropriately named. It felt like being hit by an anvil. Luckily, the majority of its arcana essence was negated by their shielding aberration essence.

Void energy lanced and curled over their body as Hal’s body was blown back, soaked in ice-cold agony. They landed on a sharp jut of rock, well outside of the Manatorpor’s dome of glittering energy.

For a moment, all they could do was stare up at the manaseed’s barrier holding back the endless voidmist. To their right, the eastern side of the ridge was beginning to lighten, the mist there thinning as the sky lightened from the rising sun.

“We just need to last until the sun rises,” Hal said through chattering teeth.

“There is no guarantee that this creature plays by the same rules,” Besal reminded him. “He was not supposed to be here. We need to kill him.”

Hal was only half-listening to Besal. He was staring at the manaseed’s barrier, watching it shimmer and glisten like polished opal.

“I’m an idiot!” Hal said suddenly. They slowly got to their feet, aching still from the attack. “The answer was staring us right in the face this entire time.”

They should have made it a priority to get to the area of the Manatorpor’s spell, but they didn’t. Hal insisted he knew how to counter the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s attack.

So they slowly limped toward their opponent, making sure the Voidwracked Kinslayer saw how weak and slow they were. How desperate they were to finish it. He needed to believe that a single Void Anvil Lightning would spell their doom.

While at the same time, they had to appear to have some final trick up their sleeve. Otherwise, the Voidwracked Kinslayer would just descend upon them and finish them up close and personal.

They had to look vulnerable. Not a difficult feat considering how much that last spell hurt.

“If you’re wrong,” Besal said, watching their doom approach. “We’re not going to get another chance.”

Their opponent was expecting them to return to their haven, and as they instead came for him, a look of hatred burning in their eyes, a flicker of concern twitched upon the Kinslayer’s face.

As Hal and Besal began to weave a new shield for the coming attack, the Voidwracked Kinslayer stepped back and launched another Void Anvil Lightning at them.

172

Blessed by the silvery moonlight of a Manatree, Hal lifted the shield of mana wrapped around his forearm like a bracer.

The Void Anvil Lightning kissed the coalesced energies. Their aberration essence reflected the core magic of the spell, and just as the manaseed’s barrier repelled the voidmist, so too did the silvery Manatree energy reflect the dark void aspect of the spell.

It was an answer that had been inside him the entire time. His soul was entwined with a Manaseed and he could utilize its mana in much the same way as essence.

But there had never been a reason to use it before, not like he was at least. Whenever he cast Manatorpor it used a similar type of mana, it had taken a final reminder to connect the dots.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer’s coal-black eyes widened in shock at the sudden reversal. He was hit before he could bring his black hole to bear and the ridge shook with the violent explosion of the spell.

It threw the man backward with the sound of two boulders crashing into each other. Bits of the parapet’s once-level floor were blown apart.

Hal and Besal threw up their numbing arms to fend against the tiny bits of shrapnel that flew through the air at them. As the dust began to settle, they rushed forward, gathering up mana in a bid to unleash a wave of Manatree energy.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer was already upon his feet, his black hole heart was even larger, it had almost entirely consumed the Kinslayer’s chest. His face twisted in a grimace of pain, he came forward with a curling wave of watery aquan essence.

Hal and Besal thrust out their wings, there was no dodging the wave of killing energy. While Besal gathered eldritch essence to try and weather the attack, Hal gathered the silvery light of the manaseed within and let it out in a streaking slash of congealed moonlight.

Their HP dropped to 17%, their left wing vaporized in the ensuing attack. But the silvery light of the manaseed from within Hal struck the Voidwracked Kinslayer straight in the chest.

It didn’t react like anything they had used to hurt the fiend before.

The light shrunk and was pulled into the black hole heart, but there the similarities ended. A bright corona of silvery moonlight flashed out from the darkness and the Voidwracked Kinslayer cried out in pain, raising a gnarled hand to his chest.

The black hole shrunk. And a plan began to form in Hal’s head.

Like all of his plans, they were risky and borderline psychotic. But if they could pull it off, Hal was sure they could defeat him.

At the very least, they would all die.

When death was no longer the end of everything, it was sometimes worthwhile to die in service to something larger.

As the Voidwracked Kinslayer began to recover, Hal quickly muttered his plan to Besal. He could feel the incredulous look Besal plastered on their face.

“It’ll work,” Hal said, gathering more of the manaseed’s energy within himself.

Besal wasn’t so sure, but he kept his thoughts to himself as he summoned a crashing wave of eldritch energy. It built and built, but without using Diffusion, the Strain climbed ever higher.

Thinking they meant to return to their earlier battle of essence against essence, the Voidwracked Kinslayer clawed the air, ripping it apart with dragon essence. The two energies collided mid-air, throwing the combatants back.

Even missing one wing, Hal and Besal were able to rush back into position and throw out another wave of eldritch energy, knowing that the Voidwracked Kinslayer would have no choice but to use dragon essence yet again.

Another explosion, another wave of essence, and still their Strain climbed higher. Hal could feel the approach of something tremendous, it was like standing at the very edge of oblivion.

Red-streaked lightning battled against the waves of draconic essence, a roar of dragon-like defiance rent the air with each collision. But while Hal and Besal’s essence grew weaker, the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s seemed undaunted by his widening black hole heart.

By eschewing the use of Diffusion to empower their essence, they were continually pushed back along the ridge with each successive attack. The Voidwracked Kinslayer gained on them, and his grin was savage in his impending victory.

They were less than twenty feet away from the edge of the Manaseed’s barrier. If they were thrust outside, Hal wasn’t sure the Manaseed within his soul would be enough to protect them.

Even worse, the Voidwracked Kinslayer would likely gain a slew of buffs. And that was the last thing they needed.

“Get ready,” Besal said.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer paused fifteen feet away and tilted his head at them. “Oh, but I am,” he said in a voice that sounded like crackling autumn leaves. “I am going to savor this.”

Besal summoned a column of red-streaked lightning, right beside the Voidwracked Kinslayer. If he was hoping to catch the man off-guard, he was sorely mistaken.

With the grace of a dancer, the Kinslayer twisted and leaped to the side. Just as Hal and Besal had planned.

Passing the final barrier of Strain, Besal was overcome by corruption.

Hal, gathering up as much of the manaseed’s strength as he could muster, thrust out all of the silvery mana that he could control at the Voidwracked Kinslayer.

But there was one thing Hal hadn’t thought of.

Caught out as the Voidwracked Kinslayer was, he wasn’t without yet another void-based spell. Unable to dodge, but hardly needing to, he twisted his body and cast Event Horizon.

As Hal’s silvery mana streaked out toward the Kinslayer, it was snared by the tidal forces of the black hole and pulled into itself.

Worse, as Besal battled with the rising corruption with him, Hal was ousted from his body as the corruption began to take root.

Without a body, the only thing holding Hal together was the manaseed’s argent mana. And as Hal began to understand the depths of his mistake, he was pulled out of Besal and into the black hole heart of the Voidwracked Kinslayer.

Time stretched to infinity as the dark orb loomed before him. Light bent around it in a strange distortion that was fascinating and terrible all at once. It was all Hal could do to keep ahold of the mana. If he surrendered it, he would die.

Somehow, he had taken the Manaseed out of his body. And as he streaked away from Besal, their tether was severed. Hal was once again alone.

Not alone, he thought, feeling the warm essence of the Manaseed within the silvery light. You’ve always been here with me, practically from the start.

There was no response. Not one that Hal could make out in any case. The Manaseed communicated more in general feeling and emotion. As the black hole loomed before them as large as a star and dark as the Abyss, Hal felt an odd sense of comfort wash over him.

* * *

Besal expected the pain to vanish once Hal was lost to him. Instead, it redoubled. Agony strengthened his muscles, expanded his pool of mana, and regrew his missing wing. He was becoming something more, something stronger.

But he no longer wanted it.

He no longer desired to be an abomination bound for the stars above. He had changed. And it took him until that moment to realize just how much he actually had changed.

He had seen Hal tackle one challenge after the other without ever giving up, even when it would have been for the best. Rather than take his winnings and run, he went out of his way to throw himself in front of a friend or an ally.

It had made no sense to the younger Besal.

Time and time again, Hal put others first when he could have grown so much stronger on his own. They battled all sorts of monsters, and yet Hal never sought to chase them to their warrens and lairs. He could have supped on their essence, and the essence of their weak children.

Besal had even tried to tempt Hal, but the man had somehow managed to retain control and push away the intrusion. How a man, so weak and feeble, could have such an iron resolve was beyond Besal.

But slowly, with every battle won, every friend saved, every ally lifted out of the mud, Besal began to understand. Somewhere, deep inside, with every point of experience he gained alongside Hal, his heart began to change as well.

Hal had been a failure by all measures of the word back in that horrible place he called Earth. It wasn’t until he was forced to reckon with his weakness that he grew and rose to the challenge.

He should have been easy prey for Besal, but he had beaten him. And so Besal had resolved to study him and find a flaw.

There were uncountable flaws within Hal, after all. But they were not weaknesses. This man that had bested him was not perfect - not at all - but he was strong in ways that Besal slowly grew to envy, and then ultimately, to respect.

As Hal continued to grow, Besal grew alongside him without even realizing it. His awareness grew, his understanding, and even his compassion.

He found himself helping Hal when the man missed a threat. It wasn’t intentional, he had once told himself, merely a reaction. And when that lie no longer satisfied him, Besal told himself that he was preserving the body so he could one day usurp it.

Besal stood at the threshold of something great and terrible. Something he once ached to achieve with all of his soul, but he could no longer lie to himself.

With the path to becoming a true Horror opened before him, Besal reached forth and shut the door.

His place was beside Hal, not among the stars.

Besal’s eyes flashed open, twin pools of flaming sapphire boring into the look of terror on the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s face.

What’s the difference between a man and a monster, Besal thought to himself, repeating Hal’s questioning refrain.

He finally had the answer.

A monster fights for himself, but a man fights for others.

And so it wasn’t for his own survival that Besal faced down the Voidwracked Kinslayer. It was for Hal’s.

173

Hal tumbled forward, hitting something hard and glassy. He fetched up against a wall of some sort sending a wave of agony across his back.

Planting both hands to the floor, Hal noticed with a shock that his skin was made of silvery light. His whole body gave off a faint bit of moonlight, and with that light, he could see within the darkness.

His Shadesight was gone, and he knew without even trying to tap into them that his Beastborne powers were gone as well. His mind was clear. Free of the corrupting influence that had threatened to consume him.

The strength of the Manaseed within his soul was all that gave him a semblance of corporeality. He turned to look around, noticing only piles of rubble and debris.

It took him a moment to realize that they were all the things the Voidwracked Kinslayer had pulled into its black hole. Streams of violent energy streaked high above like a mockery of an aurora. All of the magical essence and attacks that Hal and Besal had failed to hit the Kinslayer with were roiling around up there.

He shook his head, putting a glowing hand to the side of his head. His entire body was made of the same argent light, casting a pool of soft illumination all around him.

There was a vagueness to his form, he felt keenly naked and yet clearly was not. As he inspected his body, however, a small black flame flickered like a candle where his heart should be.

He touched the spot with a finger, but it had no reaction.

Strange.

From the darkness, a form resolved itself at the very edge of Hal’s light. Despite knowing it wouldn’t work, he reached out to his Beast Magic and tried to cast Divebomb.

Nothing happened.

He silently berated himself. He was defenseless. Practically naked if not for the somewhat indistinct, vaguely humanoid form the silvery light formed for him.

Out from the cover of darkness, a swirling void of purples and black hues approached like a miniature tornado of whipping energy. It roiled and shifted form, collapsing upon itself and being remade a second later in a constant shifting dance.

“What’re you?” Hal asked, surprised at the melodious strength of his voice.

“What’re you?” came back the echoing, strained reply. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the pitch and tone made his skin crawl.

Or it would have if he had skin.

He could feel its gaze settle on him and it made him feel uneasy and unclean.

Before his eyes the twisting form of darkness began to change shape, coalescing, and bending into what Hal knew was a mirror image of himself.

Except where Hal was made of shining silver light, the thing that stood before him was of sickly purple tones and darkness so deep it stood out among the lightless background.

Hal cocked his head to the side, unsurprised to find the creature mimicking him perfectly.

“Creepy,” Hal muttered.

“Creepy,” the creature replied. Though it sounded closer to Hal’s voice, it still failed to capture his new melodious warmth.

“Are you an enemy or a friend?” Hal asked it, balling his hands into fists. As he did the light of his body flared just a little.

Across from him, the creature’s body darkened, sucking in that light as his fists balled as well. Surprisingly, his answer wasn’t a direct mimic. “Enemy,” he said and his voice - though so much like Hal’s - was still missing that new quality.

At that, Hal wished he had a sword or a weapon of some kind. He missed his chain and falchion more than he wanted to admit. And facing an unknown threat like the thing in front of him reminded him just how inept he was at unarmed fighting.

Without his magic, he was practically back to the level of strength before he made it to Murkmire.

Or so he thought.

At the very mental image of his blade and chain, Hal’s argent light brightened and a facsimile of his familiar weapons appeared in his grasp once more. A curved blade of curdled moonlight in his right hand, and a chain of congealed argent light wrapped around his left wrist that trailed to the black glassy floor.

Unfortunately, the creature facing him seemed able to summon the same weapons. Just as Hal created weapons of light from nothing, it created weapons of roiling darkness.

“Copying is not very nice,” Hal said.

“Not nice,” the creature agreed a moment before he lunged toward Hal, raising his sword to strike.

Hal lifted his blade and quick-stepped to the side. Their blades met with a clash of violence that was many orders of magnitude beyond the physical force behind those strikes.

There was a brilliant flash and crackle of light as their blades met. The two combatants were blasted back, Hal planted his heels and skidded to a halt just as his opponent did the same.

It didn’t take them long to lash out again, explosions of power between their weapons echoed around them like small supernovae. Hal’s viciousness was mirrored by the faceless form in front of him.

Everything he threw at the man was mirrored. He didn’t exactly have Hal’s fighting style, but every strike, every parry had the creature aligning his strikes to more closely resemble Hal’s style.

Waves of light washed out from their attacks. The glass floor cracked and bucked as they came together again in a violent crash. The darkness around began to break from their relentless assault, glowing rents of light ruining the dark Abyss around.

This wasn’t the Abyss, Hal realized. It was a mockery of it. He had been there, in the heart of the deepest darkness. His realization gave him power over his environment, pinpricks of light like stars began to blossom in the floor and ceiling.

There was a malevolence behind the creature in front of him, something he had felt during the assault. It was the Shadesblight, the force of vile intent behind the voidmist.

He could just barely see its designs like faint reflections around the dark figure that attacked him. When he lunged forward with a thrust meant for Hal’s heart, he saw it coming a fraction of a second before it actually hit.

Sidestepping it was as simple as leaning out of the way. Confused, Hal didn’t even bat the sword away as he easily dodged the lethal blow.

Again came the shadowy premonition of an attack, and once more Hal reacted just as the creature began its strike. Understanding came to Hal in bits and pieces.

The Shadesblight couldn’t create.

It had no imagination. It could only see the world as it was, its opponents as they currently existed. It possessed no creativity of its own.

That was why it took bodies for its own, twisting and changing them but ultimately doing so in a mockery of the Abyss. Unlike even the meekest child, it could not see the world as it could be, only as it was.

And that was its true weakness.

Hal had stared into the depths of the Abyss, and it had left an indelible mark on his soul. Now he understood the small black fleck in his chest. He would never be free of it, not completely.

That was fine by him.

His glimpse into the Abyss had changed him somehow, he still didn’t quite fathom the extent of that change. There was more afoot than the Shadesblight, Rinbast, or even the Manastorms.

He heard Feril’s voice recounting a world that would be unrecognizable to the current inhabitants of Aldim. All these thoughts rattled around in his head as Hal dodged and quick-stepped away from the shadowy premonitions.

The Shadesblight coveted creation, but all it could do was mimic and corrupt into a form that was a sad imitation of something grander. To the Shadesblight, Hal’s chain was just a chain. It didn’t understand it could be used creatively, that wasn’t how the world worked.

Hal lashed out with the chain, confident that it had the same properties of his lost [Chain of Binding].

The glowing metal of the chain rattled against the glassy floor as Hal enacted its binding enchantment and pulled, suddenly shifting his angle of attack. He came up under the guard of the dark form and dealt a devastating blow to the creature’s middle.

Skidding to his knees as his blade jammed up to the hilt in the dark copy’s stomach, he bore the other man to the ground. As he did, the darkness around the man’s body shattered like a thin veneer, revealing his own face.

174

As soon as Besal shut that door in his mind, pain wracked his every cell.

Strength flowed into his veins like nothing he ever experienced before. Every beat of his heart was stronger than the last.

The burning blood that coursed in his limbs scoured away weakness, rebuilding him with every heartbeat.

Pain was a constant companion.

Corruption, dark and impenetrable, flowed out like somebody had ripped a hole into the vast emptiness of the night sky. Even the Voidwracked Kinslayer, beginning to recover from whatever Hal did was wary of Besal’s change.

As well you should be, Besal thought darkly. You will not survive this. Though I fear I may not either.

Flooding shadow rolled out from Besal, coating him and changing him. Breaking bones, remaking them stronger and larger. A brume of pitch sprang up around him, hiding him in darkness more complete than anything save the Abyss he recalled from Hal’s memories.

Strain Affliction Lv.5 (Antecedent).

Untold power flows through your veins. You have rid yourself of your host, of the anchor tying you to morality and petty concepts such as "good" and "evil." Your ascendance is all but assured. Few "Beasts" have ever made it to this point, fewer still with their cognitive faculties fully intact such as you.

The path to the stars was open to you, your ultimate evolution awaits. You have chosen another path. A path never walked by a member of your kin from this Worldshard. Should you persist down this path, you will precipitate untold changes in both yourself and in your host's body which you have usurped control over.

Continue to stem the tide of otherworldly corruption, hold onto the shreds of humanity you have inherited and the changes that have begun to cascade within your soul will be irreversible.

The stars yet beckon.

Beast Magic Efficacy +500% | Beast Magic Damage +500%

Essence Tier +5 | Beast Magic Tier +5

HP Reduced to 1 | MP Reduced to 1

Regenerative Effects Halted

Strain Accumulation +500%

Unlocked Ability: True Abomination

Strain has become both your bane and your lifeblood. As it wounds and burns your veins it provides unmatched power if you know how to use it. You can now fully alter your host’s stats as you see fit, augmenting them temporarily with Strain.

Unlocked Trait: Feeding the Beast

While Antecedent, your Strain sustains you in every way imaginable. Your Strain limit is removed. All abilities, spells, or traits that require HP, SP, or MP now draw from your Strain. All learned Beast Magic spells are available.

Unlocked Trait: Unnavigable Seas

You are perpetually shrouded in a sea of impenetrable pitch that disorients others and saps their lifeforce. All effects of The Dark Between remain in effect but now extends to objects as well, infusing your darkness within them.

Besal breathed hard, trying to steady his rapidly changing body.

How did Hal put up with all those notifications and prompts? He never had to deal with anything like that usually. Was this a sign that he was in fact different from his brothers and sisters who yearned for the stars?

He didn’t have much time to ponder the source as another notification rolled up into his vision. This one was even more confusing than the others.

New Quest: Wyrd Times.

You, so unlike your kin, seek to become something more than a mere abomination among the stars, a path many of your peers have taken happily. No, you possess something more than they once had. Whether the result of your host’s innate strength, the enduring taint of the Abyss, or something else entirely, you have resisted the allure of the stars beyond.

Should you choose to persist in this, you will forge a new path no other Khaeros has ever taken before. The stars will forever glare balefully down upon your new path into the unknown.

Objectives

- Remain above 1 Strain.

- Rejoin with your Host.

Rewards

- ???

Reaching his hand out, Besal could clearly see it was threaded with sapphire energy, not ruby like the Kinslayer’s had been. Like glowing veins, the sapphire energy was woven into his pitch-black limbs and his body of starlight and shadow.

Rolling waves of glittering starlight drifted off his shoulders, and for a moment he felt a strange sense of loss that nobody could witness his glory with so much darkness about.

But he didn’t dare drop the obscuring sea of pitch about him. So recently changed, he was still weak. A single strike would spell his doom. He now had to worry about pesky things like stats and resources.

With a Strain of 200 acting as both HP, SP, and MP, he wouldn’t last very long unless he found a way to increase his Strain. Taking quick stock, he realized that all of Hal’s unique abilities were lost to him.

Any Soul powers were gone, including Soul Drain. His Kol’thil was covered in darkness, and even if it wasn’t he would not have the first inkling how to reactivate it. Hal’s other spells and abilities were also missing.

He was left with Beastborne and Beast Magic alone. It would have to be enough.

Besal charged the wary Voidwracked Kinslayer, reaching a shadowy clawed hand toward him. As he moved, the darkness moved with him and before the Voidwracked Kinslayer could react, he was plunged into the caustic darkness.

Just thinking of reaching his hand around the man’s throat caused Besal’s arm to lengthen in a most disturbing way. As if his form was a mere suggestion, his arm stretched all the way to his opponent’s throat and latched on.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer was quicker than Besal would have guessed, and with a vicious sweep of that cruel black sword, lopped off Besal’s stretched arm.

Oddly, the damage was minor.

A mere 50 HP was lost as his arm reformed from the severed stump. Caught completely unawares, Besal slashed out at the man’s exposed neck, drawing five long gashes across his adam’s apple and over his collar bone.

Even more strangely was the effect of damaging his enemy.

Clawed fingers wet with fresh blood eagerly drank up the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s tainted blood and used its foul corruption to further empower Besal.

Shadowy fumes puffed out of the fresh wounds and Besal drank deeply of the more familiar Strain. Stunned and blinded, the Voidwracked Kinslayer lashed out again with that slim black blade of his.

Besal was already gone. His form twisting and bending until it easily dodged aside from the deadly strike. Despite the fact that he should be blind, the Voidwracked Kinslayer seemed more than capable of sensing wherever Besal was.

Just as he reconstituted himself behind the man, the Voidwracked Kinslayer was already turning, his free hand summoning forth that terrible swirling black water.

Something compelled Besal to stay put. He could have broken his body down to mist or a slim line to avoid the attack, but he felt a kinship with the spell forming around the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s hand.

Besal grinned widely as the attack dove for his heart, a certainly lethal move that he didn’t even bother to avoid.

Sinker Drill plunged deeply into Besal’s chest. Were it any other type of spell, that would have been the end of things.

But what was Beast Magic aside from Strain given form and function?

Too late, the Voidwracked Kinslayer realized his mistake.

With the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s hand plunged up to the wrist inside of his chest, Besal pulled on the Strain that made up the spell and to the tether that bound it to the man behind the spell.

The damage had been negligible, but even still the Strain Besal was pulling out of the Voidwracked Kinslayer doubled, then tripled his reserves of Strain. All the while, weakening his enemy.

Every ounce of Sinker Drill’s Strain was pulled into Besal’s constantly shifting body. He thought to return the favor by summoning a blade of starlight and shadow, an extension of himself instead of the crude bone sword Hal had gifted him.

The Voidwracked Kinslayer brought his sword around to try and block it as he pulled with all his might on his captured hand. With little more than a thought, Besal dismissed the blade then resummoned it once his hand was passed that pesky blocking sword.

When the blade fell on the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s hand, it severed it at the wrist. His hand sunk deeper into Besal’s body to be broken down and reconstituted into the greater whole of Besal’s new form.

Stumbling away from Besal, the Voidwracked Kinslayer stubbornly reached out with the stump and began casting another spell aimed at Besal’s heart. Anvil Lightning reached him in the blink of an eye, its lightning arcing straight for Besal’s chest.

With a concussive blast that blew apart the very stone they were standing upon, the attack hit. Besal had expected to try and fend off the void element his foe had laced his attacks with before, but twice now he used normal Beast Magic.

Both times, Besal drank deeply of their Strain.

Empowering himself as the Voidwracked Kinslayer exhausted his powerful magic. Only then, when the dust and debris of the blasted stone began to settle, did Besal begin to understand its lack of void-laced powers.

Its black hole heart was cracked, with streams of familiar moonlight shining out.

Besal grinned savagely. The tables were turning.

175

Hal stared into the Kinslayer’s face. His face.

The man started to move. Hal quickly ripped the blade free and hopped to his feet, leveling the shining moonlight tip of the conjured sword at the man. He was ready to move at a moment’s notice, his white-knuckled grip on his blade of moonlight, unyielding.

“Do it,” the man rasped, a little bit of blood bubbled at the corner of his lips as he wheezed. “While I am still a man. While I still remember… me.”

Assuming it was a trick of some kind, Hal cast a wary look around expecting a surprise attack. When nothing came, he looked back at the Kinslayer. Black blood slowly seeped from the wound in his chest, the ragged edges of which were limned in moonlight.

“Why should I?” Hal said, surprised by the bitter anger in his voice. “You said yourself, Rinbast let me go! Why did you follow me? All I ever wanted was to be left alone, to make a home on a world I never intended on coming to. He did that! He stole my life from me!”

The Kinslayer chuckled but it was a worryingly watery sound. With great effort, the Kinslayer lifted himself up on his elbows and looked into Hal’s eyes. “I see you’ve taken quite a liking to this world, despite your anger. Save your fruitless posturing. Your life, like all of ours, was mundane and boring. Rinbast gave us meaning. He gave us what we yearned for back on Earth.”

As much as Hal wanted to refute his claims, the Kinslayer was right. While he objected in nearly every way Rinbast went about it, he couldn’t argue that his life on Aldim was orders of magnitude better than before.

He had somebody he deeply cared for, a family, friends… a purpose.

And that was to say nothing of the magic and adventure that was at his front door. For a moment he paused, staring at the dying man that was a reflection of himself on another Earth.

Had this version of himself let George talk him into skipping school that one day? Did his George live because this version of Hal had heard the silent pleas for help that George masked so well?

Pleas that Hal had missed back home. They had found George three days later washed upriver after his parents finally came home and found the note he left.

With a shake of his head, Hal pulled himself from the past, though his sword did dip ever-so-slightly. “It doesn’t matter, you tried to kill me. To kill my friends. Why would I ever give you what you want? My body is probably dead or worse, if I can even get back to it!”

The Kinslayer coughed, blood flying from his lips as he shook his head. “I hated you. Your freedom most of all. You were right under our noses and we didn’t see you. It was a slap in the face.

“Nobody thought you had gained so much power in the Gift. You shouldn’t have been capable of something so… vexing. If we didn’t already have enough reason to detest you, we had plenty after that failure. Weeks on Aldim and you already evaded our pursuit.

“But what truly galled me was the way Rinbast just… let you go. We were sent to track you down as soon as we learned you had left Murkmire. Only a few days out of Murkmire we were ordered to return. To let you go free. I couldn’t abide by that, and so I hunted you. Alone.”

“Even into the Shiverglades?” Hal asked. “Why?”

“I was too far gone by that point, it had become an obsession,” the Kinslayer said with a wet chuckle. “You were my ‘White Whale’ and if I could just bring you in, or kill you, then my own subservience would be more tolerable somehow. I could… feel justified in my existence. And I couldn’t even do that.

“Now I understand why Rinbast called us back. Something is different about you. I should have seen it. You’re like him, you know? People just… flock to you, do what you say without hardly ever thinking for themselves.”

Hal tightened his slackening grip on his blade of moonlight. “That’s not even remotely true!” At least, not the latter part. He had known, since talking to Thirty-seven, that he was more alike to Rinbast than perhaps any other. But the rest was untrue.

If only it had been that easy! Just point and tell people what to do, then they follow it. Even with his high CHR and Oathforger’s Regal Bearing trait, people didn’t just do whatever he wanted because he asked.

His problems would be so much smaller if they did. Is that how it looked from the outside? Did it seem to others that he hardly cared about his friends and family gained through blood, sweat, and tears?

“I don’t have enough words - and you don’t have enough time to hear them besides - to tell you just how wrong you are. I struggled for every friendship, every alliance, and still the Shiverglades - and you - all but destroyed everything we built. So I ask again, why should I offer you mercy when you surely would not have offered it to me?”

As the pool of blood beneath the Kinslayer widened, all the strength seemed to leave him. He collapsed onto his back and stared up at the cracked ceiling. His next words struck deeply at Hal’s heart. “Because I am you.”

It was a simple truth. Simple enough to get through the various layers of armor Hal had put up around his heart.

This was a reflection of himself.

No matter what else he was, the Kinslayer was him. What kind of man, what kind of person, could kill themselves so heartlessly?

He was already dying, wouldn’t he want mercy granted to him in his final moments? Thoughts raced around inside Hal’s head, all to no avail.

Healing, or somehow saving the Kinslayer would be the height of naivety. As much as he didn’t want to kill him, the damage was already done. Undoing that would just mean he had another enemy to fight again someday.

One that knew exactly where he was and the defenses he had in place. But if he killed him, what if he was bound to a Manatree somewhere else? Then he would return to Rinbast’s side, all with knowledge of his new home and with a more accurate assessment of Hal’s strength.

The only reason he had managed to survive until that point was precisely because he was continually underestimated. It was one of the few advantages he had left.

But he could not risk that Thirty-six was bound somewhere else.

Each decision seemed equally risky. Kill the man and send him to Rinbast, or heal him and… what, try to jail him? Hal shook his head at the ridiculous notion. What cell could hold him?

He didn’t know what to do and in the moment of quiet between doubting thoughts, he heard a faint musical note... then another, and another. Like he had left a music box somewhere in his pocket, muffled by thick fabric.

Focusing on the sound, he could feel more than hear the Manaseed bound to his soul. It could confirm Hal’s fears.

He reached down to grasp the man’s forearm, the same marked forearm as his own. As he did, he felt for the connection between Thirty-six and the warm argent glow of a Manatree.

Nothing. Hal was almost disappointed, but he was hardly surprised that Rinbast would keep something like that for himself.

“Mercy, really?” the Kinslayer said, mistaking Hal’s intent. He barked a laugh that quickly turned into a bloody coughing fit. When it finally subsided, he spoke softer than before, weaker. “Gods above, you really are green as the spring grass, aren’t you? How did you survive so long? If you were able to heal me - which I very much doubt - I would only continue my attack on you.

“Send me back home, brother, while I can still return. Don’t make me relive this hell any longer. Finish it, and know that I won’t truly die. We are not from this world. When we die, we do not die for good. We are sent back to our home world. To the life we left behind… unless we are fully corrupted.

“End my wretched existence before the void consumes me, and I will yield up what power is still mine to command on the promise that you will free my brothers. They are trapped just as I was. Give us the freedom we so deeply covet. Free us, and weaken the chokehold Rinbast has on this world.”

Had the Kinslayer been lying the entire time and been strong enough to strike at Hal just then, there would be no way he could have defended himself.

The tip of his moonlight blade slid toward the glassy ground. Hal felt cold and numb all over. If he had died, he would have just gone back home?

“What about Rinbast,” Hal said, trying to steady his shaky voice. “He is tied to a Manatree, isn’t he? What happens if he is killed without its protection?”

The Kinslayer weakly shrugged. He hardly seemed strong enough for that motion, let alone to answer him.

Darkness began to creep back up the Kinslayer’s form, starting at his hands and feet. It moved, inexorably inward, and obviously caused a great deal of pain to the man.

“My offer,” he said through pained gasps and gritted teeth, “still stands.”

Hal nodded. And despite the fact that the man had been trying to destroy him and everything he built less than a few minutes ago, he felt a sense of sorrow and loss.

“I’ll set them free,” Hal said, raising his moonlight blade over the Kinslayer’s - no, over Thirty-six’s - heart. A look of intense focus came over Thirty-six as the man fought the corruption of the Shadesblight with the last of his strength. “You have my word.”

Without breaking his gaze, Hal thrust the blade home into the man’s chest. There was a moment of pain and then a sense of serenity came over him. He moved his lips, but no words came. Even still, Hal understood the two words he meant to say well enough.

“Thank you,” were the last words, spoken or not, that Thirty-six ever uttered.

The black prison all around them shattered like exploding glass, letting in a flood of light from all directions.

176

It was almost too easy.

Every strike weakened the Voidwracked Kinslayer further and strengthened Besal. With 1,107 Strain, he could afford to drop 100 points to boost his stats and leap forward through the sea of pitch to bowl over his opponent in the blink of the Great One’s eye.

The only reason he didn’t outright kill him was his fear that doing so would somehow harm Hal. Besal could still feel that Hal was alive. Though, much to his frustration, he had no idea how to extricate the man from the creature.

Strange as it might be, he felt a kinship with Hal. They understood each other in a way that nobody else ever would. Even his siblings, fellow creatures of darkness that yearned for the freedom of the stars would never know his heart as well as Hal did.

He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Besal wasn’t sure about a lot of things, but he did understand that Hal was doing something inside that black hole heart of the creature.

As they battled, Besal easily gaining the upper hand, the cracks spread and grew across the surface of the black hole until it was more light than darkness.

Before his eyes, the black hole shattered. In a flash, all the colors of the world inverted. The sea of pitch became white mist, the brightening sun cresting the eastern mountains turned black.

Just as fast as it happened, everything turned normal again except the black hole had turned into a shining sphere of pure white.

Besal felt Hal coming out of it before he saw the streak of moonlight rushing out of the white hole. In that instant, without thinking about how he could turn the situation to his advantage, Besal reached out for Hal.

They collided, Hal’s soul with Besal’s and what remained of Hal’s body. Besal was hardly ready for it and he went down hard. His teeth rattled as he crashed to the broken stone ridge.

Hal’s soul merged with his own and it turned out to be a fortunate turn of events to be cast down because every spell absorbed by the Voidwracked Kinslayer was spat back out in the direction where Besal had just been standing.

Streams of violent killing mana rolled above their heads, some streaking within inches of their face. Disoriented and weak, Hal hardly was aware of what was going on.

Besal watched with growing fascination as their spells were cast out in reverse order until every bit of energy that black hole had stolen was expelled. And then, when nothing remained, the Voidwracked Kinslayer’s body began to crumple like a tin can miles deep in the ocean.

One heartbeat, that’s all it took for the man’s body to collapse to the size of a fist and disappear. The white hole stopped shining and turned into a perfect sphere of white. It fell to the ground a few feet away and rolled until it nestled between a crack in the ground.

Besal slowly rose to his feet, surprised it might all be over. The sun crested the mountains in the east, and as its light bathed the Shiverglades in clear morning tones, the voidmist was forced to flee.

It took a little longer for the light to reach the valley the Settlement was nestled in. Besal made a motion with his hand and a stream of darkness carried the white sphere aloft to his awaiting hand.

Besal placed it within Hal’s inventory.

He felt Hal awake more fully now that the man was rejoined with his body. Besal could keep him asleep, he knew.

Hal had, in essence, given up ownership over his corporeal form. It was Besal who kept it alive, kept it functioning. After all, why shouldn’t he keep it? It was his in all but name.

A flash of memory, one of Hal’s, showed him an old man with a head of curly white hair coveting a ring in much the same way. There was an attachment of some joke or another that Besal didn’t quite grasp. But it jolted him from his selfish, dark thoughts.

Hal’s occasional use of pop culture was one of the things that Besal hardly understood, but somehow still liked. That was unusual for him. Unusual for any of his kind to like something they didn’t understand.

If they didn’t understand it, they consumed it. In the process of consumption, they gained understanding. The problem was, as Besal thought, that by consuming the curious item it became a part of him.

The unique aspect of the thing was destroyed.

Few of his brethren would have thought that a great loss. But Besal did. The diversity of life, of magic, of everything, was what made being alive so interesting.

In that moment, when he could have claimed complete control of Hal’s body, Besal willingly surrendered control to the man. Not just a man, but his friend. His brother.

“Good to have you back,” Besal thought to Hal.

Besal understood what Hal fought for now. The difference between a man and a monster was clear to him. He pitied his brothers and sisters who had never known such a bond as his.

* * *

Consciousness returned in fits and starts. He saw the Voidwracked Kinslayer emitting gouts of violent mana into the air like streamers of colored light. The next moment, the Voidwracked Kinslayer was pulled inside the glowing white orb in his chest.

For a moment, he was absolutely sure that Besal was going to wrest control of Hal’s body away from him. He was weak enough that had Besal wanted to, it would have been child’s play.

But he didn’t.

He heard the strange greeting, one of honest emotion and welcome. Besal didn’t need to take Hal’s body for his own, not when they were two halves of the same whole.

When Hal awoke completely, his hands were covered in burning black pitch. His veins were on fire, and the world was filled with discordant whispers. He gripped the sides of his head and shouted at them until they quieted.

An eyeblink later, the noise ceased.

Hal found himself on his knees, gravel digging painfully into his skin beneath his shredded and ragged armor. The black pitch that coated his skin was dripping off of his body like candle wax, pooling in the broken ground beneath him.

Notifications and prompts flooded across his vision. Hundreds of damage prompts, EXP gains, essence absorptions, and more. Only the last few notifications lingered long enough for him to pay attention to and even that was a struggle for his ailing mind.

You defeat the [Voidwracked Kinslayer | Lv.??]

You gain 30,000 Experience Points.

You earn 30,000 Sparks.

You obtain:

- [Heart of Darkness]
- [Rhythm of Light]
- [Darklight Blade]
- [Fragmented Essence]

You learn Anvil Lightning.

You learn Sinker Drill.

You learn Sound Blast.

You absorb Kinslayer Soul: Thirty-six.

Rising to his feet once more, Hal swayed as the rest of the corruption fled his body, leaving every inch of his body bruised, battered, and utterly wrung out.

So wrapped up in Thirty-six’s death, the Kinslayer’s, and his potential role in freeing the rest, Hal could hardly spare a thought for the fighting down below.

When he heard a distant shout, his heart stuttered in his chest and he feared the worst. He rushed to the edge of the ridge, looking down into the gap below.

He was about to try and create a pair of wings like when he battled Thirty-six but realized a moment later that it would be unnecessary.

Not only was he unlikely to be able to create them at that moment, but the fighting had stopped. He spied more than a few still forms laying on the battle-churned ground.

A great many trees with paler bark than normal formed a line three deep at the breach to the wall. The rest of the walls glittered, covered in a bluish crystal that shimmered in the clear morning light.

Only then did Hal notice that the sky had fully lightened into the clear glorious brilliance of morning. White puffy clouds scudded across the sky. His faux sun was entirely gone, but that hardly mattered. Where stubborn patches of voidmist clung to life, the life-giving light of the sun burned the darkness away, healing the land and the dead mutated bodies of the monsters.

His people were battered and broken - a feeling he wholly understood - but they had won. The shouting he heard was one of victory, of utmost relief. The cancerous alterations to the monsters were burned away by the shining light of a new day, making them easy prey for the defenders still on their feet.

What few monsters that were not destroyed at the breach were in full retreat. Even Hal’s tired eyes could see that there was no way they would make it out of the gap alive. Boulders sailed through the gap, courtesy of the various Awakened Treants his Palebark Treant had awoken.

With each thunderous report, half a dozen monsters were flattened. In short order, the battle was well-and-truly over. The only living monster was him, he thought with a wry twist of his lips.

A feeling that Besal echoed with his own mental laugh.

They had won, and he had lived to see it. Hal looked over his shoulder, toward the east and the rising glory of the sun. The Shiverglades never looked so wild and free, so beautiful.

There was no hint of the voidmist, like a nightmare its ever trace was burned away. A darkness shifted to his left, and Besal stood beside him. The pair stared at the sunrise, shoulder-to-shoulder.

“It always ends with a sunrise with you,” Besal said with a shake of his shadowy head.

They shared the moment together, for once alone and comfortable with that. Hal had nothing to say to Besal, they watched the sun lift higher into the sky as the cheering below and behind began to subside.

“We can’t stay up here forever,” Hal finally said softly.

“I know,” Besal said. “Just a few more minutes.”

“A few more minutes,” Hal agreed, watching the light shimmer across the primeval wilds of the Shiverglades.

There was nothing quite like an Aldim sunrise. The sky was painted in a riot of brilliant colors. The ring that encircled the planet gleamed through its share of colors from purples to pinks, to bright reds and oranges until it gave way to gold.

The Shiverglades provided an entirely new layer of beauty. With so much greenery, water, and rolling elevations, the gilded light of morning fell unevenly across the land in rolling waves of luminous color.

Here a lake shimmered like molten gold, there a river turned into a ribbon of chrome, the dark forests were transformed into idyllic green spaces, the bogs and marshes coyly revealed their unusual tones of purples and browns as their shrouding fog burned off.

With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Besal turned to Hal. “You picked quite a spot for your home,” he said.

Though he was tired to the bone, Hal flashed a grin at Besal. “Our home.”

Besal nodded, and without another word vanished into a plume of smoke that siphoned itself into Hal. Whole once more, he looked around the ruined ridge.

Hal didn’t fancy walking all the way back, but he didn’t see any way around it.

Trudging through the broken top of the ridge, Hal marveled at the destruction he had visited upon the hardened stone. But that was nothing next to what Besal had been capable of once Hal had gone inside the Voidwracked Kinslayer.

It only occurred to him after he shifted aside the rubble atop the parapet to reach the stairs that he was able to sift through Besal’s memories as easily as his own. But he couldn’t quite decipher them at the moment.

Resting against the cool stone wall of the stairwell, Hal pondered that for a second. Besal said nothing. Hal was aware his memories were also flowing in the direction of Besal.

Something had happened to them that he was still sorting out. Some deepening of their bond that went beyond the Dark Communion. So much was different now. He couldn’t begin to count the ways.

Least among them was the sensation of Thirty-six’s Soul, or perhaps it was a fragment of the power he gained while on Aldim. In either case, he could feel it thrum with strength deep within him just like Shae’kathoth’s Soul.

Pushing against the smooth wall, Hal took to the stairs again, eager for a bed. He craved rest more than anything. There would be a million things to do but they would still be there once he had some sleep.

He was still fantasizing about that good night’s rest when he nearly stumbled down the last steps, straight into Noth’s arms. The bloodied and battered woman wrapped her arms around him so tightly Hal heard his spine pop a few times.

All he could do was smile at her as she dragged him out into the warm morning light. The sound of tired but enthusiastic cheering followed them wherever they went. Noth guided Hal to a cot, one of many being set up near the battlefield.

A strong pair of hands took Hal from Noth. He found himself descending deep into sleep long before his head even hit the pillow. A rest justly deserved.

* * *

Noth wiped the blood and dirt from her cheek and handed the cloth back to Mira who had more need of it than she did. She was bone-tired, but there was still so much to do.

Once the last of the monsters had fled the Settlement, the Guild Mission was declared a success. The entire Guild gained a buff along with something more that only the Guild Leader could view.

She had her guesses as to what that was.

Guild Buff Activated: Home & Hearth.

Having successfully defended against an incursion from the Shiverglades, your Guild’s claim has been recognized as legitimate. Though the Shiverglades is unlikely to leave the claim unchallenged for long, your Guild is no longer seen as a foreign threat.

+100% Repairs to structures within Settlement.

+100% Healing effects.

-50% Damage taken from Shiverglades monsters.

+50% Loot from Shiverglades monsters.

+50% Gathering efficacy | +50% CP gain.

Duration: 48hrs

“You think he’ll be okay when he wakes up?” Mira asked after wiping her face.

In the temporary shelter of their tent, she looked over at Hal, then over at Angram, Yesel, Rondo, Luda, and Mira. They were all that was left of their group that came from Murkmire.

They didn’t know where the others had gone.

“I think he’s going to be mad if he misses out on the boost to loot from monsters,” Angram said, shifting his arm in his sling. Yesel draped her arms over Angram and helped him adjust the sling.

Mira arched a brow at them. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Angram looked away and nodded.

Noth watched Mira. She knew a lot more than she was letting on. And while Noth was willing to overlook a lot when Mira used magic - Cultivation-based, if memory served - that wasn’t from Aldim in the service of helping Hal, they were going to have a private chat.

Mira knew something, and Noth meant to get it out of her.

“They will come back, won’t they?” Luda asked, looking even more childlike then usual. She looked at Hal, then back at Noth. “Maybe he can find a way to locate them, you saw him fight atop the ridge. He might even be able to pull them back home.”

Home, Noth thought, looking from Luda to the sleeping Hal. This is our home now. Thanks to you, Hal. She looked up at the rest of them. “Even if he can’t, we aren’t going to give up on them. We’ll find them, every last one of them, and we will bring them home. No matter what it takes.”

Noth took one more look around the tent, feeling more keenly the losses of their friends and allies.

She hoped her words were true, she needed them to be.

The Settlement was safe for the time being, but they had lost so many already and with more simply gone in a flash of prismatic light.

She hadn’t been as close to them as Hal, though in the last few days she had grown quite fond of Ashera. Noth turned her golden gaze back to Hal’s sleeping form and sighed softly. She was not looking forward to breaking the news to him.

Afterword

First, as always, thank you so much for reading Beastborne: Exiled Lands. Seriously, it means the world to me. I can’t even begin to explain how much each and every one of you reading this has helped to turn my life around.

To think that this is my third published book, and that I’m already working on Book 3 of Beastborne is just beyond mind-blowing. It still feels like yesterday that I started writing about Hal and the mess he’s got himself mired in.

It is only because of readers like you that I was able to go from full-time to part-time as an EMT, which has helped me to get this book (and those that follow) out faster.

I hope, with your continued support, that I’ll be able to eventually fulfill my dream of writing full-time. If you enjoyed Beastborne: Exiled Lands, please be sure to leave a review and rating to let other readers know your thoughts!

Ratings and reviews help so much more than readers know. As a new indie author, they are an immense help. Without them, even the best books fade into obscurity. So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you in advance for leaving a rating and review!

About Beastborne:

Beastborne started its life as a web serial and as a result, the book is ridiculously long. This sequel is even longer than the first. In my eyes that just means more value for you, the reader!

I’ve adapted a lot of my most beloved inspirations to shape Beastborne into what it is. There’s a bit of Final Fantasy’s Blue Mage mixed in with Bloodborne, Dungeons & Dragons, Lovecraftian horror, and a host of other little things that I hope makes it as enjoyable to read as it was to design and write!

Hal’s adventures don’t stop here though! I’ve already written more than 30 chapters over on my Patreon for the third book of Beastborne.

Not only that, but 5 new chapters are posted to Patreon every week. I have no plans on stopping there, and with your help, I would like to write stories like these for many, many years to come.

About the Author

My name is James T. Callum and I’m not going to talk to you in the third person or make it seem like I’ve got some publisher or editor who has a bio on me.

This is just me, talking to you, the reader. I’m no different than you, I love reading and gaming just the same as everybody else.

In fact, I’ve loved reading for as long as I could remember. From the very first fantasy book I read, Wizard of Earthsea, I was hooked.

For just as long I’ve also been an avid gamer and DND player (as well as other tabletop RPGs). Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy, Illusion of Gaia, and on through the years as stories and graphics became better and better.

You’ll be able to find hints of inspiration from all sorts of RPGs and video games in my works. From the Final Fantasy series to Warcraft, Age of Empires to Anno, and games like Dark Souls and Bloodborne. Because who doesn’t love a little cosmic horror thrown in for fun?

These games (and countless others) have inspired me ever since I was a kid, and they continue to serve as my muse now that I’m much older.

Writing has always been my greatest aspiration and with your help, I hope to make it a full-time job. At the time of this writing, I still work a day job like most people. It is only thanks to Patreon that I was able to dedicate some of my spare time to writing.

So, if you’d like to provide direct support and help me achieve my goal of writing full-time (so I can write even more stories for you awesome people!) you can hop on over to my Patreon page where you’ll find tons of content.

Patrons get access to advanced chapters of upcoming books, special discord roles and discussion channels, early releases of books before anyone else, maps, cover reveals, voting, and a lot more.

Become a Patron Today!

You can always find the latest information on my website about new books coming up, sales, and more: https://www.jamestcallum.com

And if you spot a typo or error, shoot me an email at: typos@jamestcallum.com, and I will get it fixed and re-uploaded ASAP. I aim to provide the best possible reading experience and as soon as I find an error I fix it. Once it’s fixed and updated, your reading device should update automatically with the improved version.

I'm always available to talk, connect with readers, fellow authors, and lovable book nerds:

Twitter: @JamesTCallum

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/litrpgwriter/

Beastborne’s Discord: https://discord.gg/nTvDNFM

Or you can come hang out on my Facebook Page: Beastborne Chronicles.

Looking for more LitRPG series from a wonderful group of people? Head on over to the Gamelit Society Facebook group!

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Acknowledgments

I’m continually floored by the support and kind words of my Patrons. You have been my rock in these trying times, and I couldn’t wish for better friends! Of course, it goes without saying that none of these books would have been possible without you all.

Before I ever thought to publish the book, I had people willing to support me. That support is the main reason Beastborne didn’t end up like so many other stories: scrapped and thrown away. I can’t thank you all enough. But I’ll sure as heck try!

First and foremost I’d like to thank Mattirro, Sevitar, and Michael Shafer.

If you enjoyed the antics of Orrittam, you have none other than Mattirro (does the name look familiar, perhaps in a mirror?) to thank for the creation of the adorable posh and proper Gold Dragon playing benevolent host to Hal’s Settlement.

He deserves all the credit for making the lovable (and infinitely patient) golden boy.

And for all you Komachi fans out there, I would like to credit Fiona Adler. The furry little prankster wouldn’t be half as sassy without her constant input and creation!

I’d also like to thank all of my Gold-Marked and Prism-Marked Patrons, many of which have been with me since the very beginning. I simply cannot put into words (weird for an author, I know) how grateful I am for your continued generosity.

My heartfelt thanks to: Alex Santos, Anthony Romero, Ben Morgan, Carthel Richards, Curtis "chef" Long Jr, Da Uncle, Daniel Jr, Dominic Pernicone, Drew Dalton, Jay Stephen, Johnist, Jørn Håvard Eikenes, Joseph Thibodeau, Josua Samano, Kai, Kyle Leary, Kyle Smith, Louis St-Amour, Matthew Lanigan, Michael Arceneau, Michael Messenger, Nuri C. Nelson, Smudi, and Tyrone Feldman.

Additionally, I would like to personally thank Aldous Russell. Their keen eye for details (and typos) helped to make this book a better reading experience for all.

Naturally, I couldn’t finish this without also thanking YOU the reader! I hope you thoroughly enjoyed the second book of Beastborne Chronicles, and it is my most sincere wish that I will be able to bring you more stories for decades to come.

Newsletter

Want to get notifications when there’s a new book out? Are you interested in keeping abreast of the latest sales and new series I’ve got cooking?

Then you’ll want to sign up for the mailing list! I’m no fan of spam myself, so you can expect to only get occasional updates once or twice a month unless there is a major event.

You’ll also get exclusive access to early access chapters for upcoming books!

Sign Up Today!

Hal’s Last-Known Stats

(Pre-Assault)

Hal Williams

Level: 42

Discordant Stone: 22,298/55,000

Strain: 0/50

BP: 15/15

Classes

Beastborne: 20

Oathforger: 12

Novice: 10

Resources

HP: 600/600 (+75)

SP: 475/475

MP: 760 (+75)

Attributes

STR: 10 (+3)

VIT: 35

DEX: 10

AGI: 10

INT: 52 (+9)

MND: 60 (+7)

CHR: 40 (+14)

Regeneration

HP/hr: 91.2

SP/hr: 65.3

MP/hr: 217.1

Resistances

Fire: 25

Ice: 0

Wind: 0

Earth: 0

Lightning: 0

Water: -25

Light: 0

Dark: 0

Defensive Properties

DEF: 112

MDEF: 117

Insulation: 35

Monster Affinity

Beastmen

Goblin: 300%

Arcana

Shadow: 325%

Doll: 105%

Mimic: 155%

Undead

Aberration: 560%

Plantoid

Treant: 285%

Planttrap: 55%

Morbolger: 25%

Outsider

Eldritch: 620%

Vermin

Insect: 135%

Spider: 125%

Amorph

Slug: 78%

Class Affinity

Warrior: 99%

Thief: 99%

Survival Skills

Darkvision: 6

Investigation: 14

Manatree: 10

Perception: 20

Stealth: 7

Survival: 5

Flight: 1

Combat Skills

Evasion: 21 (+5)

Improvised Weaponry: 19

Parry: 11 (+5)

Sword: 25

Magic Skills

Beast Magic: 30

Enfeebling: 20

Crafting Skills

Alchemy: 10

Bonecraft: 20

Construction: 5

Foraging: 0

Tactician: 13

Social Skills

Deception: 7

Exploration: 14

Intimidation: 4

Leadership: 29 (+5)

Persuasion: 17

Mercantile: 2

Hal’s Skill List

[Survival Skills]

Darkvision

Level 6

+12% Visual range in dim light.

+9% Visual range in no light.

Through time spent in the dark, lightless depths, you have adapted your sight to be able to peel back the veil of darkness.

Flight

Level 1

+0.35% Speed while flying.

+0.35% Control while flying.

-0.25% Stamina cost.

Few creatures possess the innate ability to fly, and while yours is a gift gained from modifying your physical form, it functions no differently. Contrary to common thought, flying is an arduous and taxing affair for those unaccustomed to its rigors.

Investigation

Level 14

+14% Investigation speed.

+28% Investigation success.

+10% Point of interest highlight chance.

By analyzing your surroundings and using inductive reasoning, you are able to piece together evidence into a plausible conclusion, locate hidden items, traps, and make connections others would miss. Heavily influenced by INT.

Investigation Perks

Treasure Hunter

While investigating, increases the chance of discovering higher rarity loot and acquiring quest originating items.

Lv1: 15%

Manatree

Level 10

+30% Manatree Spell Potency.

The manipulation and ability to commune with a Manatree is a valuable skill that few have the capability to learn. By sharing a piece of yourself with the semi-sentient creation, you are able to influence its use of power. And in turn, the Manatree is able to provide you with the means to defend yourself against the dreaded Manastorms.

Manatree Perks

Arcana Siphon

The spheres of influence granted by Manatree spells change the very warp and weft of the mana caught within. By subtly altering the make-up of your Manatree spells, you can capture part of the MP expended within to replenish your stores.

Perception

Level 20

+60% Perception highlight chance.

+100% Awareness of magical items.

+40% Danger sense.

As a measure of your general awareness, Perception allows you to pick out details of your environment that most others might miss. Higher Levels of Perception will highlight useful items or those of special significance.

Perception Traits

Inspection

By focusing on a monster, you are usually able to view its Level.

Perception Perks

Premonition

Gain the ability to see outlines and indicators where powerful attacks are about to land moments before they hit.

Preternatural Dodge

Requirement: Premonition

When Premonition triggers, time seems to slow down providing you precious seconds to get out of the way in time. All onlookers perceive you as suddenly much faster if they lack this perk.

Stealth

Level 7

+12% Stealth success.

+12% Stealth speed.

-12% SP drain.

Slow, measured movements and a preference for shadowy nooks have helped you take the first steps along the path of a true sneak. By moving with purpose and focusing on staying out of sight you can dramatically reduce the chance for others to detect your presence. Sneaking reduces your speed and drains Stamina.

Survival

Level 5

+225% Camping regeneration.

+25% Flora & Fauna identification.

+5% Well Rested bonus.

Survival abilities allow you to not only live off the land but to thrive. Survival determines your ability to hunt for game, distinguish poisonous food from edible, and to make camp effectively.

[Combat Skills]

Evasion

Level 21

+21% Evasion speed.

-21% Stamina cost.

+8% Time decay.

The best defense is the one where you never get hit in the first place. The art of Evasion takes precise timing and quick reflexes to keep ahead of an opponent’s constant barrage of attacks.

Evasion Perks

Patient Offense

Each successive evasion of an enemy’s attack increases the damage of your next attack by 10%. Resets if hit.

Second Wind

Prerequisite: Patient Offense

Each stack of Patient Offense can be consumed, converting it into 1% HP.

Improvised Weaponry

Level 19

+38% Improvised Weapon damage.

+38% Improvised Weapon attack speed.

-15% Stamina cost.

Realizing that anything can be a weapon if you put your mind to it, you’ve taken the first step toward the ultimate goal of beating your enemy with the body of another enemy. Unlocks the Improvised Crafting trait.

Improvised Weaponry Perks

Overrun

Increase attack speed by 15% when utilizing an Improvised Weapon and a One-Handed Weapon together.

Improvised Weaponry Traits

Improvised Crafting

Improvised Crafting allows you to outfit any item with atypical ingredients, gaining the ability to swap out one ingredient for a similar type, resulting in a different finished product.

Parry

Level 11

+11% Parry success.

-11% Stamina cost.

Avoiding harm during a fight while remaining effective is a difficult balance to strike. Some wear heavy armor and strap on large shields to create a bulwark against which many foes struggle to penetrate. Others prefer to use their weapons to their full benefit by parrying and defending against deadly strikes.

Sword

Level 25

+25% Sword damage.

-6.25% Sword durability loss.

+25% Armor penetration.

The weapon of choice for would-be heroes and highway bandits alike. Under Angram’s watchful gaze you have taken the first steps to ensure that you consistently stick your enemies with the pointy end first.

Sword Perks

Cruel Blade

You learn how to better bleed out an enemy, forcing them to take extra damage. Each strike you land has a higher chance to inflict the bleed status affliction. An enemy under Cruel Blade's bleed affliction takes standard bleed damage for the duration of the effect. Upon the end of the affliction, the enemy takes additional damage equal to a portion of the bleed damage suffered.

Lv3: +40% Bleed Chance (20s) | 25% of total Bleed damage once the effect ends.

Sword Weaponskills

Rending Steel

Assault your enemies with five unrelenting strikes. Weave destruction upon your enemies, finding gaps in their armor and where no gaps exist, creating them.

Additional Effect: Lowers DEF.

Damage: 10

SP Cost: 25

Lv20 WS: Goring Blade

Sunder your enemy's defenses, breaking through and dealing severe bodily harm. Inflicts Gored status on the target if more than one point of damage is dealt.

If no damage is dealt, armor durability is reduced by 18%.

Additional Effect: Gored

Gored: Suffering deep wounds, resulting in doubled bleed duration and damage.

Damage: 20

SP Cost: 120

[Magic Skills]

Beast Magic

Level 30

+90% Beast Magic potency.

-12% MP Cost.

A unique form of magic known only to those following in the footsteps of Chimera Knights and the fabled Beastborne. Beast Magic allows the wielder to tap into the ferocious power of fell monstrous magics previously exclusive to monsters.

Wielding Beast Magic comes with a price, however, non-monster bodies were not meant to wield such devastating magic and will experience hazardous side-effects if the wielder is not careful to manage their Strain levels.

Beast Magic Perks

Azure Fate

Embark upon the Azure Path, trading raw strength for greater control and efficiency.

Azure Lore

Reach into the very depths of Beast Magic, forming a sympathetic bond with your adversary. By touching a monster, you are able to understand your quarry that much better. Its weaknesses and fears, its strengths, and most importantly what it’ll do before it does it. Defeating multiple enemies from the same Monster Family confers unique bonuses against that family.

Empty Vessel

Each Beastborne is unique. Those that follow the Azure path accept the risk of Strain but are not without the tools to handle the dangerous influx of corrupting magic. Once per day, you focus on the way your body was before becoming a Beastborne. Holding that image, you purge all Strain from yourself, becoming an empty vessel once more.

Convergence II

Prerequisites: Lv.10 Beast Magic, Lv.10 Beastborne, Azure Fate, Deep Magic.

As a Beastborne, you are able to alter the most fundamental aspects of yourself. By refining your Beastborne-given powers, you are able to influence your body through your mental prowess. While channeling Essence, INT and CHR can be partially utilized as modifiers to your melee damage and bodily prowess. Higher tiers allow you to tap a greater portion of INT and CHR.

Tier II: Fine-grained control of stat allocation allowed.

Lv2: 25% INT & CHR transferred to Physical Stats.

Enfeebling

Level 20

+20% Enfeebling success.

+40% Enfeebling duration.

+20% Enfeebling magic resistance.

When defeating your enemies isn’t enough, Enfeebling Magic is there to cut the strongest enemies down to size and to make the weak grovel in fear. Enfeebling focuses on crippling opponents in as many ways as there are seconds in a day.

Enfeebling Perks

Shatter

Enfeebling spells apply a 10% MDEF reduction.

Lv2: 15% MDEF reduction.

[Crafting Skills]

Alchemy

Level 10

+10% Crafting speed.

+15% Toxicity tolerance.

Alchemy creates mighty medicines, potent poisons, and substances of supreme strength to imbibe or imbue renowned relics.

Alchemy Perks

Potions Master

Potions and poisons you make are 20% stronger.

Bonecrafting

Level 20

In ages long past, people used to fashion items out of bones as the only ready-made material that was strong enough for their purposes. But procuring bones was a difficult task and one that required a great deal of preparation. As soon as proper woodworking and most of all smithing came into play, the craft was forgotten about.

But there is power in bones. The once-living material has found new life within your hands. As the re-discoverer of a lost art, you now have the ability to teach it to others. More than mere bones can be molded into usable materials. Claws, horns, and even the fabled dragon scales can be used to create wondrous works imbued with the power of their former owner.

As the discoverer, you gain the following benefits:

+10% Profession Experience Points | +10% Crafting Speed | +10% High-Quality Rate

+22.0% Crafting speed.

+24.0% MP efficiency.

+20% CP generation.

Bonecrafting Perks

Bone Purification

Purge impurities from bone, increasing the likelihood of achieving higher quality and reducing the amount of CP needed to craft material made from purified bone. Purified bones are required for Bone Ensorcellment.

+10% High-Quality rate.

-10% CP cost.

Essence Imbuement

While others must slay or find their raw materials, you are capable of creating it. This comes with a number of additional features - and drawbacks - with Essence Imbuement. You can specifically aim to create bones of monsters with whom you have at least 100% Monster Affinity.

Construction

Level 5

Integral for any soul seeking to live with a roof over their head, Construction allows for the creation of assembled parts into a building or structure. In whole or in part, Construction requires the ability to properly read and understand Building Schematics in order to create a structure.

Foraging

Level 0

The bounty of the land is ripe for the picking as a Forager. Whether it’s gathering wild resources found throughout the world or chopping down towering trees to extract valuable heartwood, Foraging allows you to gather the natural materials of the world.

Tactician

Level 13

+1% Planning efficacy.

+1% Ambush & Trap success.

-0.5% CP cost of Building Schematics.

+0.5% Building Schematic parameters.

Tacticians ply their trade in a wide variety of ways. From civil engineering projects to plotting the ambush and downfall of enemy troops, a Tactician wears many hats. A difficult skill to come by, often requiring high Leadership for the worldview afforded one in such a position, Tacticians gain perks every 5 Levels instead of the typical 10.

Tactician Perks

Cruel Machinations

Trapmaking is a curious art, one which its creator rarely sees the fruits of their labor. By making modifications to the designs of traps you create or oversee, you increase the Critical Hit chance of each trap. Additionally, you gain a portion of the EXP that would have been gained if you slew the creature yourself.

Lv.2: +10% Critical Hit chance | 15% EXP gained.

[Social Skills]

Deception

Level 7

+7% Deception success.

+3.5% Deception awareness.

-3.5% Reputation loss.

+1.5% Deception success for each person you have told the same lie to.

The favorite skill of dark elves and conniving merchants alike, Deception affords you the ability to weave your own truth. The dark elves have a saying, “when all around you is a web of lies, the truth is what you choose to make.” Those skilled in Deception are able to make their own realities and furthermore, convince others of their veracity.

Exploration

Level 14

+140% Faster drawing speed.

+42% Discoverable range.

+7.0% Hidden location discovery (Explorer).

The Exploration skill allows you to discern differences in the environment and keep track of your position on your Explorer’s Map. The higher your Exploration skill, the more detailed and accurate your map will become.

At low Levels the map will be vague and inaccurate, often with little more than the area’s name. As your skill progresses, the detail becomes greater and your position relative to your surroundings becomes clear.

Exploration Perks

Explorer

As an explorer, your passion is finding new places and hidden nooks. Your ability to find hidden areas increases by 0.5% per Exploration Level. In addition, you gain Experience Points every time you discover a new location.

Intimidation

Level 4

+4% Intimidation success.

+5.0% Pacification chance.

While others would convince, you take a more direct approach. Threats are only threats if you don’t make good on them. And by putting the fear of the Gods into an otherwise stalwart soul, you have embarked upon the ignoble art of getting your way by more direct means.

Leadership

Level 29

+29% Party damage.

+58% Leadership efficacy.

Some are born to follow, others to lead. Whether intentionally or not, you have shown ambition and a willingness to direct people and walk alongside them toward a shared goal.

Leadership Perks

Party Tactics

When fighting with a party, each member of your party gains an additional 2% bonus to damage, defense, and healing per member within your party communication range.

Hastened Destruction: 1/3

Requires: Party Tactics Lv.1

Increases Ultimate generation of all party members by 10%.

Leadership Traits

Commanding Presence

Effectively coordinating those in your group has made commands and tactics second-nature, allowing you to add another member to your party so long as you remain its Leader.

Party Members +1 (6 Total).

Persuasion

Level 17

+17% Persuasion success.

+8.5% Antagonistic persuasion success.

+15% Reputation gain.

-6% Reputation loss.

All civilizations are founded on the principles of compromise. You have taken the first steps along the road of making sure that others compromise more than you.

Persuasion Perks

Friendly

Through long hours of persuading people to see your side of things you have picked up how to appear friendly to many races and cultures even if you don't speak the language.

Lv1: +20% Persuasion success against non-aggressive entities.

Mercantile

Level 2

+2% Sale price over buyer’s skill.

-1.0% Purchase price over seller’s skill.

Trade is the lifeblood of all civilized nations. More important than land, deadlier than any war, trading can make or break a nation.

[Languages]

Common

Deep Speech

Hal’s Spells & Abilities

[Spells & Abilities]

Beastborne

Even among the lost order of Chimera Knights, there was a whisper and a rumor of something greater. A form of Beast Magic given physical form on the most fundamental levels. Many Chimera Knights died pursuing their desires to attain the title of Beastborne. Wielders of the most powerful Beast Magic, the Beastborne walk the razor’s edge between their humanity and becoming another terror that stalks the stars.

Arcana Killer

Gives you an edge when fighting Arcana Family monsters, increasing damage dealt while decreasing damage taken. Adds a chance to Intimidate Arcana.

Beast Killer

Gives you an edge when fighting Beast Family monsters, increasing damage dealt while decreasing damage taken. Adds a chance to Intimidate Beasts.

Clear Mind

Sacrifice a third of your HP, SP, and MP to reduce Strain to 0.

Limit once per day.

Deep Magic

Alters the Elemental and Monster properties of unassociated held weapons to include currently attuned Essence.

Lv1: Adds Elemental & Monster Properties to weaponry.

Lv2: Includes Weaponskills and Abilities.

Lv3: Includes Spells.

Edge of Disaster

Every point of Strain acts as a point of Haste, increasing your movement and attack speed.

Essence Deflection

Utilizing pure essence (requires tier 3 or higher), you are able to filter offensive magic through the essence, reducing their incoming damage.

Regenerative Prowess

+25% HP, SP, and MP Regeneration.

Splice

The core of what it means to be a Beastborne is their capacity to take the essences they’ve acquired and mix them into an entirely new form, never before seen. Monster Attunements are only active while Splicing the given Monster Family.

Essences: 2

Splice II

Splice can now utilize three separate monster essences at once. Stacking multiple essences from the same family increases the effectiveness of both essences and the spells of that family.

Essences: 3

Undead Killer

Gives you an edge when fighting Undead Family monsters, increasing damage dealt while decreasing damage taken. Adds a chance to Intimidate Undead.

Beast Magic

Blinding Spit

Eject a gob of chemically unstable ooze that explodes into a blinding flash upon impact.

Additional Effects: Blind, Enmity Up

School: Beast Magic

Type: Magical (Dark)

Family: Aberration (Undead)

MP: 50

BP: 2

Strain: 2

Damage: 8

Bomb Toss II

Throw a goblin-bomb at the enemy dealing Area of Effect (AOE) fire damage.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Magical (Fire).

Family: Goblin (Beastmen).

MP: 40

BP: 2

Strain: 1

Damage: 16 (AOE).

Divebomb

Summon a phantom of a diving bird of prey to fall upon your enemies and gore them with a devastating attack.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Physical (Piercing).

Family: Aberration (Undead/Bird).

MP: 75

BP: 3

Strain: 5

Damage: 18

Attributes: Physical (Piercing).

Drill Branch

Summon spiraling branches to pierce through the toughest hide and gore your opponents. By continuing to channel mana into the spell, you can continue the spell indefinitely. Partially ignores DEF.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Physical (Piercing).

Family: Treant (Plantoid).

MP: 35

BP: 3

Strain: 2

Damage: 10

Empty Vessel

Each Beastborne is unique. Those that follow the Azure path accept the risk of Strain but are not without the tools to handle the dangerous influx of corrupting magic. Once per day, you focus on the way your body was before becoming a Beastborne. Holding that image, you purge all Strain from yourself, becoming an empty vessel once more.

Feather Barrier

Grant yourself a portion of the wind that lifts a bird into the sky and away from the dangers around them. When using Feather Barrier, any uses of Divebomb will be empowered. Increases Evasion.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Magical (Wind).

Family: Aberration (Undead/Bird).

MP: 65

BP: 2

Strain: 3

Duration: 10 minutes

Synergy: Divebomb: -33% MP | +2 Damage.

Goblin Rush II

Lunge forward, launching a frantic series of critical attacks.

School: Beast Magic

Type: Physical (Slashing)

Family: Goblin (Beastmen)

MP: 35

BP: 3

Strain: 2

Damage: 30

Shifting Mask

Take on the appearance of another, altering every aspect of your body, including clothes and items.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Magical (Dark).

Family: Eldritch (Soul of Shae’kathoth).

MP: 200

BP: 5

Strain: 10

Duration: 1 hour.

Soul Absorption

Certain unique creatures possess inordinately robust abilities and boast knowledge far beyond their kin. These entities, once defeated, can have their specific essence absorbed, providing unique boons and abilities found only within that creature. Due to the nature of these souls, only one can be set at any given time. And a full day must pass before another soul can be set in its place.

Soul Drain

By touching an opponent, you are capable of draining their resources and stats. The more types you drain the less potent the spell becomes and there is a higher chance for resists. Drained stats and resources are removed from the afflicted and temporarily added to you.

School: Beast Magic.

Type: Magical (Dark).

Family: Eldritch (Soul of Shae’kathoth).

MP: 120

BP: 5

Strain: 7

Duration: 1 hour.

Spellshaping

The chief trait of Azure Fate is the empowerment by greater control and efficiency. With this trait, any spell from any discipline is capable of being controlled and shaped in a different manner than its original invocation describes. A Firestorm spell that incinerates a 10ft radius is sloppy magic that can hurt friend and foe alike. Spellshaping allows that same spell to be molded, avoiding friends while annihilating foes.

Enfeebling

Bloodrake II

School: Enfeebling

MP: 45

Damage: 3

Bleed Damage: 6

Range: 12.5ft Radius

Binds target(s) with bladed, spiked spectral chains, rooting them to the spot and inflicting heavy Bleed damage. Damage inflicted upon them does not break the spell. Must be touching the same surface as the creature stands upon.

Enchainment III

School: Enfeebling

MP: 18

Range: 12.5ft Radius

Binds target(s) with spectral chains, rooting them to the spot. Any damage inflicted upon them once bound breaks the chains. Must be touching the same surface as the creature stands upon.

Founder Sigils

Dominate II

By infusing your will onto the very weave of reality, you can now dominate creatures, taking their semi-sentience for your own.

Cost: Unknown (Variable?).

Limit: 25

Rend

By focusing on the weave that makes all things, you can now channel the Sigil of Unmaking and rip the weave at its most basic level.

Cost: 250 EXP

Innate

Assimilation II

By redirecting the flow of vital energies, you are able to convert one resource (HP, MP, SP) for another at a reduced rate.

Resource Output Conversion

HP: 55%

SP: 75%

MP: 80%

Empathy

Allows Hal to share buffs with anybody he possesses Sympathy with.

Mana Investiture II

By focusing your Mana on a given object, you are capable of investing your Mana into the object to store, dominate, destroy, or alter its composition.

MP Cost: Variable.

Casting Time: Instant.

Recast: Instant.

Stalwart Soul

For the purposes of overcoming resistance to negative status effects, all attributes are considered double their actual value.

Item-Based

Blessing of the Flame

+25% Fire Resistance.

-25% Water Resistance.

Partial Immunity to Fire.

Resistance to Corruption.

Explorer's Map

Auto-updating Legendary Quality map.

Manatree

Manashield

A remnant of the Manatree’s own power to repel the worst of the Manastorms, this ability affords you a portion of a Manatree’s protections against an oncoming Manastorm. It is not powerful enough to repel monsters but it will weaken them.

Casting Time: 10 minutes.

Duration: 8 hours.

Radius: 20ft.

Applies Area Effect: Manatree’s Wrath.

All creatures within the effective radius of the Manashield move 10% slower and have their DEF and MDEF reduced by 10%.

Manatorpor

By focusing your attunement with the Manatree’s essence inside, you have gained the ability to create a magical bubble. All enemies that enter this bubble of magic will be dramatically slowed, their movements sluggish as if in a thick gel. All stamina costs of enemies caught within manatorpor’s range are doubled.

Casting within the influence of a friendly Manatree doubles range and duration.

School: Manatree

Range: 30ft radius.

Duration: 100 minutes.

Cost: 208 MP.

Monster Attunements

Aberration

Blades of Bone

Requirement: Sturdy Hide

Aberrations are known for their frightening visage, and part of that terror-inducing façade is their ability to make weapons out of organic matter. With Blades of Bone, you too can create weapons made of bone sharpened to a razor's edge. Serrated blades, brutal axes, and spears of bone are yours to command at will.

MP cost is dependent on the complexity and strength of the weapon. Strength, durability, and overall capacity to create an osseous weapon are dependent upon INT, CHR, aberration attunement, and the Skill Level of the type of weapon you wish to create.

At any time while wielding an ossified weapon you may sacrifice MP or HP to restore its durability.

Bone Armor

Requirement: Sturdy Hide

An Aberration is a walking armory, capable of supplying itself with both shield and sword at a moment's notice. With Bone Armor, you can adapt the defensive prowess of an Aberration to your own ends. You can choose to sacrifice HP, MP, or SP to create bones that erupt from your body and provide additional protection.

Bone Armor's cost is dependent upon the complexity and time taken to create the armor. Its defensive parameters are based on your INT, CHR, and aberration attunement. Only one piece of equipment can be made at once. Temporary Bone Armor can be conjured at a steeper cost with less complexity.

At any time while wearing an ossified piece of armor you may sacrifice MP or HP to restore its durability.

Monstrous Resistance

Aberrations are remarkably adept at resisting magic, being creatures of undead corruption they possess the ability to shrug off some of the worst magic has to offer. While using Monstrous Resistance you have 15% Resistance to every element and its associated status effects.

Sturdy Hide

Unnatural life has given Aberrations the ability to take a hit and keep moving. Adapting their unique Essence to your own will increase your HP by 15%.

Eldritch

Elder Prowess

Eldritch creatures are deeply attuned to the ebb and flow of mana, making them unparalleled practitioners of the darkest magicks. All magic is 10% more potent.

Lv1: +10% Magic Potency

Lv2: +20% Magic Potency

Lv3: +30% Magic Potency

Lv4: +40% Magic Potency

Lv5: +50% Magic Potency

Goblin

Friends

Goblin-kin are among the friendliest of all monster races. While the may not take particularly well to humanoids, they are among the most sociable monsters. Attuning to Goblins on a deeper level will allow you to adopt that same level of affability that other monsters cannot resist. Goblinspeak optional.

Kludge

Goblins are well known for their ability to make seemingly impossible things work. By attuning more deeply to their essence, you become able to bend the laws of reality slightly to make even the most ridiculous creation somehow work.

Lv.1: Crafted goods can be made with up to 25% non-standard parts and will function just as well as a properly made piece.

Shadow

Shadowy Presence

Become partially immaterial, making it difficult for physical attacks to land upon you. Chance increases in lower light.

Lv.1: -7% Chance attacks land. Effect increases up to double in complete darkness.

Shadesight

Replaces and augments Darkvision, illuminating shadows in shining starlight and utter blackness in dim light.

Treant

Barkskin

Cover your skin in a thick layer of regenerative bark.

Lv1: +5% Temporary HP (tHP), regenerates 1% per minute.

Lv2: +7.5% tHP, 2% per minute.

Oathforger

No man is an island. This, the most basic tenet of an Oathforger, you have learned and taken to heart. In the ages before the Founders brought sanctioned order to the world, this responsibility fell to the ancient Oathforgers. Their Oaths held insurmountable power to break and reforge the bonds of the natural order for the better of all. With an Oath, they could inspire the cowardly to action, give succor to the wounded, and even loosen the iron-cold grip of Death itself.

Regal Bearing

+35% Base Charisma.

+25% Base Persuasion, Intimidation, and Deception Success.

Alliances

Oathforgers are the beating heart of cooperation and camaraderie. As a result, they are among the few that can organize an alliance, a group of 3 separate parties into a singular whole. Creating an alliance requires you to be a leader of one party and the consent from 2 other party leaders.

No Man is an Island

Adds a counter to Oaths, indicating the number of people currently bound and affected by it. Additionally, as the amount of people bound to an Oath increases, the Oath grows in strength without acquiring further Axioms.

Oath

The beating heart of the Oathforgers, an Oath is a solemn vow that exists between the Oathforger and a given entity. Be it the natural order of the elements themselves, a powerful king, or a lowly beggar. Many Oaths will be presented to you by fulfilling specific conditions. Others can be created willingly between yourself and other parties. Oaths are sacred above all else and though they provide access to great power, like all things in life they are fragile.

Breaking an Oath once temporarily restricts that Oath from being enacted, limiting any spells, perks, and powers associated with the Oath. Breaking the same Oath a second time permanently destroys it. If three Oaths are broken over the lifetime of an Oathforger, they have proven themselves incapable of bearing the burden of its powers and they are an Oathforger no more.

Oath of the Brightking

You give hope to those around you, and they, in turn, bolster your resolve to carry on. Those bound to you by this Oath perceive you as the leader you could be, the ruler that all goodly people yearn for. The kindly king those of dark intent fear.

Oath of the Brightking Boons

[Self]

+5 Leadership.

+5 CHR.

[Allies]

HP +5% | SP +5% | MP +5%

Oath of the Brightking Axioms

Never intentionally harm an ally.

Protect an incapacitated ally above all else.

Oath of Compassion

You have sworn to aid in rescuing Ashera from the darkness she found herself within, at whatever personal cost.

Oath of Compassion Axioms

No matter the cost, you must find a way to reconnect Ashera’s magic or otherwise give her new magic in place of what she lost without incurring an Experience Penalty from acquiring a 4th Class.

Warding

School: Oath

MP: 50

Range: 100ft

Shield an ally with layered protective runes. Each layer provides a stacking 10 Resistance to a given entity, resulting in a total of 50 Resistance against the first hit from that entity.

Each layer of protective runes vanishes from a single attack of the specified entity. Attacks from other creatures do not affect the spell. Additional casts refresh the effect.

Stealth

Sneak Attack II

While sneaking, attacking an unaware enemy will incur bonus damage influenced by your DEX and Stealth skill.

Sneak Attack damage: 312.5%

Titles

Coffin Closer

Awarded for successful completion of the Coffin Contract.

Less likely to be attacked by undead your Level or lower.

Dramatically increases the aggressiveness of undead more than 10 Levels above you.

Squallbreaker

+10% Manastorm Loot | +40% Crystalline Manastorm Loot

Manastorm Enmity +120%

Pyresouls Preview Chapters

I recently released a new LitRPG fantasy series called Pyresouls Apocalypse: Rewind.

If you haven’t managed to check it out yet, I’ve put a few sample chapters in the back of this book in case you wanted to give it a trial run.

You can check it out the full book by clicking HERE.

Pyresouls Chapter 01

May 7th, 2045 – 10 Years Post-Collapse.

The air rang with the sound of Jacob’s deflection. He raised his cracked lucidian brass shield just in time to fend off a second blow from the wheezing undead. As he did, he drew his notched and battered sword from its sheath.

Jacob stepped forward and swept his sword beneath the angle of his raised shield using the Sword Form, Wind Parts the Grass, to strike into his opponent’s gaping ribcage.

His blade split the bone of the decaying creature and swept clear through its spine, blasting the brittle bone and desiccated flesh into the dry hot wind. Another lost soul took its place, providing only a moment for Jacob to recover his Stamina.

The [Vacant Human] takes 470 damage from Wind Parts the Grass.

You consume 20 Stamina.

You defeat the [Vacant Human].

Awarded 50 Souls.

A wisp of white mist lifted from the fallen creature and into Jacob’s chest. A chill spread through his chest and his Souls went up by 50, bringing his total in the bottom right quadrant of his vision to 97,120.

The number didn’t matter. Without the Pyres, Souls were useless.

Jacob focused on the upper left quadrant of his vision, taking a step back up the dusty mountain trail as he did. Stamina management was one of the most important aspects of fighting the hellish creatures that all but destroyed the world.

His green Stamina bar filled slowly as he kept his shield up, but he didn’t dare drop his guard. There were too many. And he had been fighting for too long. With less than a quarter of his Health remaining, he couldn’t afford to take any risks.

Down below, clad in tattered black robes hemmed in bright blue thread, Caleb held up a hand and called down fire into his palm. Jacob was less than fifty feet from the man but couldn’t get to him through the narrow switchback that descended into the clearing the sorcerer was in.

Even if he had more Health, taking the fast route down would be suicide. The fall alone would take most of his Health and the undead would be on him before he could recover from the impact.

Jacob, with only a passing understanding of sorcery, didn’t understand what Caleb was doing. Surrounded by the undead – called Vacant, due to their empty unseeing gaze – he couldn’t see how Caleb would be able to extricate himself.

But Alec understood.

“Caleb, no!” Alec cried, his voice raw with emotion. Like Jacob, he was situated up the side of the same sheer cliff face. The narrow stony paths prevented them from getting rushed, forcing the Vacant to come at them single-file. It also prevented them from reaching any allies caught in the clearing below.

That didn’t stop Alec. He didn’t understand the meaning of the word “can’t.”

Clad in full medieval plate mail stolen from the Smithsonian well over four years ago, Alec raised his shield and charged down the switchback trail. His heavy greaves crunched the long-dead sere grass beneath his rust-splotched boots.

It would have been comical, seeing all the Vacant thrown to their deaths, if Jacob didn’t know how close Alec was to joining them among the dead. All it took was one slip, one Vacant that got a lucky strike, and Alec would lose his footing. White wisps rose from their broken bodies and entered Alec’s charging form as he built up speed.

Each of them had once been a brother, sister, mother, father, son, or daughter to somebody. Now they were empty. Vacant. Stripped of all humanity, they were nothing more than vicious beasts.

Clapping his hands together, Caleb condensed the flame in his hand into three small beads. Jacob’s heart fell at the sight. He may not know much about sorcery but he knew that spell. Sorcerer’s Breath turned their body into one massive explosion of fire.

In the game of Pyresouls Online, that wasn’t a big deal. It was a final spell that would kill you but also had an equally good chance to kill your opponents. You would simply respawn at the last Pyre you visited.

But there were no Pyres on Earth. Death was final.

“Get down!” Jacob cried out.

Caleb’s dark eyes looked up at him, then drifted to the still-charging form of his brother, Alec. Amid the deepening sadness in the sorcerer’s eyes, he clapped his hands together for one final time, triggering the spell.

Half a dozen heavily armored men and women in ancient hauberks, chainmail, and plate mail fell to the hard, dead earth just as the wave of white-hot fire flashed across the clearing. Dozens of the Vacant were incinerated in an instant.

Jacob covered his head with his shield as he hit the rocky trail with a bone-rattling jolt. The wave of intense heat washed over him but he was high enough along the trail that it did little more than make him break out into an uncomfortable sweat.

He was on his feet in a moment, ready to meet the attack he feared was coming. Instead, he stared at nothing but the half-dozen blazes Caleb had set off down below at the forest’s edge.

There was nothing left of the man and nothing left of the raiding force of Vacant and other monstrosities.

They were able to sniff out the last dregs of humanity no matter how far they ran or how deeply they hid in their holes. More monsters would pick up their trail.

Up in the once-green Appalachian mountains of North Carolina, it had been safe for a while. Then they found them. They always did.

Caleb was their best sorcerer, and through his sacrifice, dozens of horrendous monsters were defeated. White wisps, Souls, flew in every direction, split evenly among the survivors. But other abominations would find them before long. And when that happened, they would be one man down.

It was a war of attrition played out again and again in scattered pockets across the dying world. It was one war the human race couldn’t hope to win.

Miraculously, Alec had thrown himself down at the last moment and managed to avoid the brunt of the sorcerous explosion. His surcoat was turned to ash, bits of the ragged cloth still burning. And his armor was blackened in several spots.

“Form up, and fall back!” Alec called, rising to his feet. Jacob shook his head at his resiliency. Not for the first time, he wished he was as strong as him. Or that he at least stayed in the game long enough to level up some more.

Without the Pyres, no matter how many Souls he got, he couldn’t level up on Earth. Still, he couldn’t complain too much. Skills could still be increased and upgraded through extensive use and intensive training.

Even the weakest of surviving Pyresouls players were better off than those who never played. They were perpetually stuck at Level 0 without any hope of increasing their stats beyond the average human’s.

Alec crossed the narrow ledge to Jacob’s position, lifting the visor to his helm as he did. His face was tight with barely-held grief. Caleb was his brother and the big man had a habit of putting the fate of the world on his shoulders. Jacob had known him for years now, there was no way Alec wouldn’t blame himself for his brother’s death.

Jacob lifted the visor on his helm and looked into Alec’s bright blue eyes. He didn’t say anything. They had both seen death often enough to know that no words could suffice. He placed a comforting hand on the bigger man’s pauldrons in a gesture of solidarity.

Alec nodded to him in thanks, then turned his gaze north and hurried off up the trail, his equipment making its customary racket.

A couple heavily armored – now blackened – forms didn’t get up. Jacob sighed. They would be down more than just a single man when the monsters returned. He turned to look up at Alec’s back.

He wasn’t about to ask him to clear the dead.

Jacob raised a gauntleted hand to the woman in a crimson surcoat and a beak-faced bascinet that was coming up the path. “Kat, you’re with me.”

She was among the most gifted among them. Despite being stuck at Level 2, she took to the training well and showed great promise. Only her weak stats held her back. Like Jacob, Kat had quit Pyresouls early.

Many people had underestimated the psychological weight of a Full-Immersion Virtual Reality (FIVR for short) game with no pain dampeners, no memory inhibitors for death, and horrific fiends straight out of H.P. Lovecraft’s mythos. Few stayed logged in past their first death.

While the others followed Alec up the trail to the caves that housed one of the last bastions of humanity, Jacob and Kat picked their way down the smoldering trails to their fallen comrades.

If they were dead, Jacob needed to be sure they stayed that way. And if they weren’t, they needed to be brought inside.

Kat lifted her visor, her face was streaked with grime and sweat. Her blue eyes met Jacob’s green. “I’ll get Daniel and Melissa.”

With a nod, Jacob split off and went to the first lifeless form. Sal never did like being crammed into a suit of armor. Nothing they ever found fit the man’s rotund frame. And yet, when the enemy was at the gate, he was the first one to squeeze into that uncomfortable armor.

Unlike modern, comfortable fabrics, and flexible nanoweave, the suits of medieval armor they wore were bulky and difficult to move in. But they were the only armaments that offered true protection against the horde of creatures that now dominated the world after the Collapse.

Without Guilt, a force imbued into equipment by its previous wearers over many long years, even the sturdiest steel plates were little better than tissue paper. Replicas didn’t work, even melting down the ancient metal failed to produced decent armor. It had been one of Jacob and Kim’s first real discoveries.

Raiding local museums and collectors was the only reason their group - diminished though it was - still survived. Guns were useless. Tactical armor a joke. But dress up like you were going to a jousting match, and you could weather blows that would take down a tank.

With Sal’s body facedown in the smoldering dirt, Jacob nudged the man with the toe of his metal boot. When he didn’t respond, he rolled him over and crouched at his side. Placing his sword to the side, he drew a thin-bladed dagger from his hip and carefully lifted the man’s visor.

His stomach churned at the sight of the grouchy, fatherly figure burned to a crisp. With a practiced motion, Jacob tilted back the man’s head and drove the thin tip of the dagger from the man’s chin into his brain.

The Vacant liked to come back wearing the faces of friends and loved ones. Damaging the brain prevented that from happening. Once they were Vacant, they were much harder to put down.

It was hard work, emotionally and physically taxing. But it was a necessity after the Collapse changed all the rules.

After cleaning the dagger, Jacob picked up his sword and waited. A moment later, a glowing fiery sphere of sapphire light drifted off the man’s chest and floated in the air. He reached his hand out and touched it, willing the wisp into himself.

You gain [Stygian Iron Helm].

You gain [Stygian Iron Breastplate].

You gain [Stygian Iron Gauntlets].

You gain [Stygian Iron Greaves].

You gain [Ring of Bitter Dreams].

The words flashed across Jacob’s vision and vanished with a mental confirmation. All of Sal’s effects were contained in that wispy orb of blue fire.

It was one of the quirks of this new post-apocalyptic reality.

One of the very few benefits of the Collapse was the inventory system that provided everybody with a [Boundless Box] that seemed to hold an impossible number of items without weighing them down.

Any item you had on you – or within your [Boundless Box] – would be contained in your wisp. Unlike monsters, the wisps of people stayed at the site of their death. Long after a person’s body turned to ash, their wisp would remain in place waiting for somebody to collect it.

Simply touching a person’s wisp allowed you to gain all of their usable items and in rare cases, it might contain a fragment of the Souls they had collected in life.

Jacob turned to Caleb, or rather the blackened blasted stone where Caleb had once stood. All that remained of Caleb was a glowing azure wisp that hung in the air above the charred stone.

Caleb had gone out on some secret mission almost two months ago. They all thought he was dead until the scouts saw him and the horde of Vacant on his heels an hour ago.

Unsurprisingly, the man had little left. But aside from his equipment, which Jacob collected and would give to Alec, there was another item. One he had never seen before.

He summoned the [Ember of Probability] he collected from Caleb’s wisp. He watched as shimmering images played out like a kaleidoscope from within the tiny glowing mote in his leather-clad palm. Every so often it vanished, the only trace it was still there was the comforting warmth it spread even through his armor.

With a shrug, Jacob put the item back into his [Boundless Box]. He’d seen stranger things in the ten years since the Collapse. He made a mental note to see Doctor Jasieux, she was the one who sent Caleb out after all.

After the Collapse, a lot of strange things happened. The laws of the world faltered and were superseded by those of a new and obscenely popular game, Pyresouls Online.

Players who managed to survive the First Wave found they had stats outside of the game. Spells and abilities that were impossible just a few days prior were suddenly commonplace.

The bystanders were the first to die en masse.

A world of stats, skills, and levels caught them by surprise. Without any frame of reference or instruction on how to utilize these new gifts, most people were helpless against the flood of undead abominations, hellspawn creatures, and horrors without name.

When they were finished with their grim deed, Kat and Jacob marched up the winding narrow trails to the caverns in relative silence.

“Sent those monsters straight to Hell, did ya?” George asked, standing beside the heavy gates set deep into the walls of the cave on either side. He threw a heavy lever, the rattle of chains echoed deep within the stone.

Somewhere inside the half-foot thick blast doors, there was another lever being thrown that would open the way for them into the bunker.

Kat gave the younger man a tired look. “Can’t very well send them to Hell when we’re already there.”

Without a word more, the pair passed into the opened doors and the guardroom beyond. They passed through three more blast doors until they reached the heart of the bunker. The mess hall. The whole place had once belonged to some ludicrously wealthy family that was convinced the world would end.

It turned out they were right.

Unfortunately for them, money was a poor shield against the creatures that flooded into the world during the Collapse. Whoever they were, they never survived long enough to make it to the bunker.

Just as well. They probably wouldn’t have been the sharing kind. And with so few humans left, it would have been a shame to kill them just to secure lodgings. They even had a FIVR pod. Too bad there were no games.

That didn’t stop the few scientists they had in their group from setting up shop alongside the thing.

FIVR pods were all the rage back when reality was so predictable and mundane. Using them, people could escape - body and mind - into worlds full of violence, magic, and mayhem for fun.

That all ended the moment Pyresouls turned out to be more than a game.

The dull electric buzz of fluorescent lights gave Jacob a headache as he mentally dismissed his shield and sword. They vanished into a swirl of ash. He could recall them with another thought easily enough.

Kat gently punched his shoulder. The clink of metal reminded him that he still wore his armor. Jacob sent that away with a thought, that too broke apart into ash that vanished a second later, leaving Jacob in a sweat-soaked shirt and pants.

“Gonna grab some grub, you want me to snag you something?” she asked.

Jacob shook his head. “I gotta talk to the Doc. I’ll see you at eighteen-hundred for sparring though.”

“You got it, Jake. Think you’ll finally teach me Moon Crests the Horizon?”

“Maybe,” Jacob hedged, no longer paying much attention. He finally spotted Alec among the fifty or so people currently in the mess hall. With a wave of goodbye in Kat’s direction, he headed toward the only table filled to the brim.

Alec never ate alone, though it wasn’t out of preference. He had a way about him that drew people to him. It should have gone to his head but it never seemed to.

There was an empty spot on the bench at the long aluminum table his group was eating at.

Jacob wanted to leave him alone. He knew the man well enough to know he would prefer to grieve in peace. Alec placed the billions of people’s deaths squarely on his shoulders. He felt responsible for the Collapse that wiped out half of Earth’s population in the first week alone.

The problem was, it was true.

After all, it was Alec who failed to defeat the monster he awoke within Pyresouls Online. That same monster managed to get out of the game and create a breach in reality that caused the Collapse. An apocalyptic event that changed the fundamental rules of reality forever.

Not only that, but he had just lost his brother. Caleb had left on some sort of errand that the Doc gave him. He left with seven others, the strongest and swiftest among them that didn’t rely on heavy armor.

When the scouts picked up Caleb’s return, he was alone and being chased by a horde of monsters. Alec and Jacob were summoned along with a few others not already on patrols to bring Caleb in.

They had failed. As they had so many times in the past. Failure was an old friend to the dwindling survivors of the human race.

Every week their numbers shrank. Even with food and shelter, every death made the next one that much more likely. Many other groups weren’t so lucky. Death came in the form of famine, disease, and even other humans.

Jacob wanted to give the ember to the Doc. But it somehow felt wrong not to include Alec. Caleb was his little brother after all. If he died to get the [Ember of Probability], shouldn’t Alec know?

Of all the people Jacob met since the Collapse, he was closest to Alec. He knew Caleb but only in passing. There was a deep wound between the brothers that even the Collapse hadn’t managed to heal.

“Got a sec?” Jacob asked, standing at the edge of Alec’s table.

Classically handsome, the blonde-haired blue-eyed man looked up at Jacob and pushed away from his meal without a word. Selfless to a fault, he put everybody else before himself.

Once they were out of earshot in an adjacent hallway, Jacob summoned the item he took off Caleb’s body, the [Ember of Probability]. “I found this on Caleb, with his effects. Did you…?”

Alec shook his head. “You keep them. He liked you better than me anyway,” he said with a dark chuckle. “May I?” He tilted his head to the ember.

Jacob handed it over, watching as Alec’s blue eyes danced with the shimmering light of the ember. “Do you know what that is?”

He nodded, something shifted on his features. Fear? Jacob hadn’t ever seen it before. For a brief moment, his best friend seemed weary and tired. Aged dozens of years beyond his mid-twenties. “We need to see Alice.”

Pyresouls Chapter 02

Doctor Alice Jasieux shut the door to the once-spacious white-lit room, now cramped with all sorts of tables and devices. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” She snatched the [Ember of Probability] from Alec’s hands. “Do you have any idea what this is?” She had a lilting voice with a slight Parisian accent that grew more intense when she was upset.

You could tell the Doc was pissed when she began to mutter in French. That was the only warning you’d get to leave the room.

“Some,” Alec said, leaning against a metal table.

“Then you should know that either of you two geniuses handling this could instigate a Causal Loop if it binds to either of you.” She raised the ember in front of her round glasses. “Thankfully it has not.”

“Somebody mind looping me in here?” Jacob asked. Ever since Alec dragged him along to the Doc’s playroom where she spent most of her time tinkering with the FIVR pod and who knew what else, Jacob had been almost completely ignored.

The Doc set the ember down in a small instrument, a set of thin needles that held the ember aloft. A large magnifying glass slid down in front of it so she could examine it in greater detail. She ran a hand through her long red hair. “You found this, yes Jacob?”

“Technically, it was on Caleb’s body,” Jacob said.

As if she just remembered, the Doc turned around and furrowed her brow. “Poor Caleb.” She turned her hazel eyes to Alec. “I am so sorry for your loss. I know you two were not very close but I know how much you wished that was not so. Things will be different this time, you will see.”

What is she talking about? The way she spoke to Alec was remarkably familiar. Was there something going on between them that Jacob missed?

“Thanks, Alice,” Alec said, crossing his arms. “Is that it then? Are you done?” There was a hint of hope in his voice.

“It is the last piece,” she agreed.

Jacob threw up his arms. “If nobody’s going to bother to explain what is going on, I’m just going to get something to eat because you both are having an entirely different conversation than I am.”

Doctor Jasieux looked from Alec to Jacob. “I am sorry, you are right. Jacob, come over here please.” She motioned him beside her. When he stood next to her, she stepped behind him, put her delicate hands on his shoulders, and turned him toward the FIVR pod.

It looked familiar, but then again they all did. “What am I looking at, precisely?” he asked.

He knew what it was but he didn’t understand the significance. Even if they had a cluster of servers to run a program to dive into, what was the point? They didn’t need an escape from reality. They needed to save it.

“You know what that is.” Her voice was too close to his ear for comfort. He could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck.

“It’s a FIVR pod. We used them to play games and stuff.”

“Correct. When was the last time you entered one?”

“When I joined the competition for Pyresouls Online.” Jacob motioned to Alec to his left. “We both did. What’s your point?”

“My point, Jacob, is that this is not your normal FIVR. I have spent every day since the Collapse looking for some way to undo it. There is no way we can rebuild humanity from this point going forward. The population… it is too small. We underestimated the Vacant’s strength. Do you remember the Day of the Dead?”

Jacob shivered as if she dripped ice cold water down his shirt. He remembered all right. Anybody alive remembered it.

The so-called First Wave was when the reality of Pyresouls became the reality on Earth. The dead did not stay dead in Pyresouls, it was a recurring theme with the game.

That was fine for a game but on Earth, the dead outnumbered the living by many orders of magnitude. When the graveyards began to stir with activity nobody knew what to make of it. By the time people understood the threat, it was too late.

It wasn’t a typical zombie outbreak, the dead didn’t turn another person. Unless you counted their fervent desire to kill all living creatures. But there was no mutated infection. If you died, you turned. Unless your brain or head was damaged significantly.

Bites from the undead were still dangerous, but they were hardly a death sentence if you had medicine.

However, the Vacant were driven and monstrous in a way nobody was prepared for. Shooting them with a gun didn’t do much. They were ridiculously resilient.

Like all of the creatures from Pyresouls, modern armaments were useless against them.

The largest cities fell almost overnight. Every death only added to the horde of monsters. The lucky ones were out camping or trying to “unplug” when it all went down. Like Jacob was at the time.

“I do,” he said finally. “Why?”

“And the Red Plague?” she asked without answering.

Jacob spun on her and took a step back, trying to understand where the Doc was going with this. “I remember all the horrible shit that happened. Yes, I remember the Red Plague.

“I also remember the Lowing, the Vile Kingdom’s poisoned promise of safety, the Shadowrend, the Hellgates, and every other horrible thing that’s happened since the Collapse. I still don’t know how I managed to survive it all. Why, what’s the point of asking me?”

Dressed in a loose-fitting lab coat, Doctor Alice Jasieux plucked the [Ember of Probability] and sauntered to the FIVR pod. She slid back a tiny panel on its side. It was a high-end model, a soft white bed encased in a cylinder with the upper half made of glass.

She tapped out a sequence on the panel. When she was done, a small receptacle to the side extended out from the pod.

Unlike every other part of the machine, this looked out of place. Jacob had seen people modding their FIVR pods for illegal dives or to experience things out of spec. The twisted wires and silver traceries that dipped into the hole the size of Jacob’s thumb reminded him of that, except professionally done.

This was no kid trying to bypass his parent’s sexual content filter with a foil wrapper and some chewing gum.

She slid the ember into the slot as if it was always meant for it. The silver traces shimmered with light and the machine began to hum with power. The lights in the room dimmed as she slid the panel closed. The receptacle for the ember retracted and vanished from sight.

The Doc turned around. “What if I told you, all of this could be undone?” She waved her arms with a flourish to indicate the entire world and all its many horrors.

Jacob chuckled. He’d heard that before.

There was no shortage of groups claiming they could provide safety or absolution from all the horrors around. At first, it was the typical religious fanatics that thought they were being punished. When it became obvious things weren’t changing for the better, things took a dark turn.

Many of those people were no better than the demons they promised they could protect people from.

He looked at Alec, surprised that his friend was taking this seriously. They’d run into more than a few of those groups on some of their earlier mishaps. How many horrors did those people commit under the guise of “the greater good?”

“You can’t be buying into this,” he said to Alec. Jacob turned to Doctor Jasieux. “Then I’d say you’ve finally snapped because you sound like a cultist.”

She shook her head and sighed, removing her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Mon Dieu! God save me from small minds.” The Doc took a deep breath, resituated her glasses, and looked at Jacob. “Do you believe that a plane weighing several hundred tons can fly?”

“Of course. I used to fly all the time.”

“And do you understand how it would look to somebody born now – God have mercy on their soul – if you proposed that a metal tube with wings could fly?”

“But that’s different. They’re ignorant of how a plane works. If they understood the mechanics behind it they wouldn’t think it’s impossible,” Jacob countered. But even as he said it, he was beginning to catch on to what she meant.

“And do you understand how a plane manages to stay in the air even though every common-sense rule says something so heavy shouldn’t be able to fly?” she asked, tilting her chin up at him.

“Bernoulli’s law?” he vaguely recalled. A lot of information from his high school days was dusty and shoved into a dark corner with all the other useless information from his life before the Collapse.

“Principle,” she corrected, “but close enough. And if I told you the underlying theories explaining how this is possible, you would still be skeptical unless you saw it work for yourself.”

Jacob opened his mouth to object but Alec was at his side in a second placing a hand on his shoulder. “Trust her, Jacob. She’s been at this a long time.”

“All right,” he said, dropping the matter. Alec was more skeptical than even he was. If he believed her, there had to be something there. “So let’s say that you can undo everything.” He jerked his chin toward the panel she accessed. “Presumably that ember is needed?”

“So you are brighter than you look,” she congratulated. “Think of it as the last piece to the quantum puzzle. The rules of Lormar are not the same as on Earth, that much I am sure you are aware, yes?

“Everything we ever thought we understood about the flow of time is distorted in Lormar, the world of Pyresouls. Now that it affects us, we can use some of its quirks to our benefit.”

Jacob looked from Alec to the Doc, then to the FIVR pod. “And somehow you think you found a way to undo everything with that?” he asked, pointing at the pod.

Doctor Jasieux patted the curved glass top. “This is only half of the equation, as you say. We need a person to send back.”

“I thought you were talking about sending back a… I don’t know, a bomb or something to destroy the company that made Pyresouls. You’re talking about sending back a person?”

Jacob took a few steps to the side to keep both Alec and the Doc in his sight. “Just so we’re all on the same page. You’re proposing time travel. Like, literal time travel by sending some poor soul back in time to… what, fix all this somehow?”

Before the Doc could launch into a tirade about how time travel was a misnomer or something along those lines, Alec stepped between them.

He put a hand up to calm the Doc. “I can hardly understand the particulars, but yes. At its core, that is what she is talking about. This is real, Jacob. How much magic have you seen in the last decade? Are you really going to start doubting now?”

Jacob had to concede the point. Time travel was far from the most unbelievable thing he witnessed over the last ten years.

The Doc rubbed her forehead in annoyance. “Not time travel,” she chided. “But now is not the time to be discussing the quantum mechanics of Lormar’s influence on this world.”

Doctor Jasieux shook her red locks. “This, it is serious Jacob. No game. We send one soul back.” She lifted one finger. “One soul for one ember.” She raised another and put them side by side.

You didn’t survive very long in the apocalypse without being able to adapt quickly. This was just another thing to adapt to. Whether it was real or not didn’t much matter to Jacob.

It didn’t have much of an impact on his life. If the machine worked and somebody went back to change the past, good.

He would love if his worst fears and issues were trivial things like scoring well on exams or finding a job. And not securing clean water, shelter, food, and ensuring that they weren’t all violently murdered by superhuman creatures.

For a moment, just a moment, he allowed his mind to wander. Wondering what his life would be like if the Collapse never happened. His relationship with Emily would have ended, for sure. You didn’t up and betray somebody like that if you truly loved them.

Jacob shook his head to clear the bitter memories of Emily and why he quit Pyresouls only halfway through the competition. When he came back to the present he found both Alec and Doctor Jasieux looking at him. “What?”

“You think you’re up for it?” Alec asked, clapping him on the back.

“Wait, you want me to go in that thing?”

“Who else?”

“You!” Jacob pointed accusingly at Alec. “You practically beat the damn game already! How many times have you told me the story of how it happened? How, if you had known the Burgon Beast was going to destroy your Pyre, you would have rested at one much farther away?

“Not to mention all the mistakes in your character build and over what equipment to get. If you had a second chance you’d beat Pyresouls and be the champion.”

Alec’s face suddenly aged a decade, his normally bright blue eyes were dark and without their customary light. Jacob had only seen his friend’s mask slip a few times before when they were alone and morale wouldn’t be affected, this was the second time in the same day. “I can’t,” he whispered.

“We have spoken on this much,” Doctor Jasieux added. “He cannot go. You hear his tales, his stories but you do not feel his pain. The weight bears heavy on his soul. If he goes, the process will kill him.”

Alec brightened a bit and nudged Jacob in the ribs. “Besides man, what do you think all my stories have been for? All that nightly sparring and telling you what I would’ve done differently? It was all to train you as my replacement.”

I seriously doubt that. “Are you saying you knew I would need to time travel and you were grooming me for that?”

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Alec raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture and stepped back. “I had no idea this was a thing until a bit ago, after Caleb left in search of the ember. So, no, not for this specifically but in general what I said still holds. People look up to me, Jacob but I’m not the leader they need. That’s you. The only reason you’re not stronger than me is because you quit the game early.

“Even still, how many other players have you seen running around? Not many! They’re dead. Many of them were stronger than you by a country mile. But who was it that figured out the connection between the in-game stat of Guilt and ancient battle-worn armors and weapons having the same effect? That was you.

“If we didn’t raid all those museums for these old medieval sets of armor and weapons, we would have died several times over. That’s all you, man. You were supposed to be my replacement.” Alec motioned to the pod. “Now you can be the hero I couldn’t. You know the paths I took, the mistakes I made, the mistakes you made. And you know what the Burgon Beast will do. You got this.”

Swallowing, Jacob looked at the Doc. “Doctor Jasieux, you want me to do this?” Ever since they picked her up back in Charleston three years ago the Doc had been cordial with him but never seemed to pay much attention to him.

“Call me Alice,” she said with a tilt to her head as she studied him. “Would you prefer we use Katherine? Maybe Victor? How many souls would you prefer we send before you feel worthy?”

Jacob padded the air between them. “I just don’t get why you would want me. I quit, remember? Hell, I nearly quit a dozen times before I got to the point it was too much.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, pushing back the gruesome memories.

“I still remember the first time I died. Besides, if you’re sending me into the past – if it works – then you’re sending me back to when I was a nineteen-year-old kid. I was an idiot and not nearly as fit as I am now. What would my goal even be? Blow up the Altis HQ so Pyresouls never gets made?”

“No, we can only create a link between your self now and your past self once you have calibrated to the same generation of FIVR pods as this one.” She motioned to the pod behind her. “You will have to compete.”

“And win,” Alec added.

He couldn’t help but laugh. Jacob was just some idiot kid that signed up for a shot at a ridiculous prize he never stood any chance of winning. He didn’t ever have a shot at winning.

At a time when VRMMOs were old hat and everything was stagnating, Pyresouls Online was announced. It was supposed to be the next greatest thing from one of the largest VRMMO titans in the industry, Altis.

They stunned the world by not only promising to make the most brutal and difficult game possible but they also held a world-wide competition for their brand-new game.

Anybody could enter and all entrants vied for the same prize: The first person to beat Pyresouls Online would gain a 49% stake in the privately-owned company, instantly making the winner a multi-billionaire.

Of course, nineteen-year-old Jacob wanted his shot. Millions of people did.

Nobody ever understood the dire consequences of what would happen if they all lost. None of them could even fathom it.

With the chance to go back and fix it all, armed with what knowledge Alec had imparted to him and his own experiences, would he have a chance this time?

Flexing his fingers, Jacob looked at his hand and all the scars it bore. “What will happen to me?”

“You agree?” Alice asked, more than a little surprised. “Perhaps there is more to you than I thought. Come.” She motioned him over and placed her hand on his thick bicep. “You will lie down in this pod and you will go to sleep. When you wake up, it will be some time after your calibration tests when you first entered Pyresouls Online.”

“I’ll keep all my memories of what will happen?”

“You will.”

There was something she wasn’t telling him. This was too good to be true. “And if I do succeed and change the future… will it be this future? Am I going to split off an alternate timeline and never see you again?”

“No.” The Doc paused for a moment, then continued, “At least, I am not sure. I do not think so but this is uncharted territory. It is unlikely, I will say.”

“Then what aren’t you telling me?” Jacob asked. “There has to be some downside to this.”

“You will have memories of a time we do not,” she answered. “And the changes you have done, you will not know of past the time we pull you out.”

“Pull me out?”

“The human mind can only sustain such a strenuous connection for so long,” Alice said, pacing back and forth. “The ember will stop your mind from splintering across each of the possible universes until there is nothing left. But it is an arduous process and the energy expenditure is phenomenal.

“Even should you somehow manage to endure, we can only maintain a connection for a few hours at a time before the machine must rest.”

“And what happens to me when the connection ends?” Jacob wanted to back away from the pod but he forced himself to look at the distorted reflection of himself in the curved glass.

“You’ll be fine,” Alec said. “Alice, Ian, and Clive all agree that there’s likely to be some mild time dilation as a result of moving against the typical flow of time. For each jaunt into the past, you should have more than a day’s worth of time there, right?”

Doctor Jasieux nodded. “Sometimes more. Sometimes less. It is imprecise. You will need to be examined each time we pull you back. Mental fragmentation is the most likely side effect, where you experience more than one reality at a time. It is only a theory, do not look so worried. It may never happen.”

“So I’ll have time to see if anything I did made an impact on this future then,” Jacob reasoned. “And if so.” He motioned to Alec. “You’ll have different memories than the ones you told me.”

“Exactly. If everything works like Alice thinks, the memories of your past – this future as you remember it – will stay but the world will change. You’ll remember the horrors but none of us will. I know it’s a heavy burden we’re asking you to bear. I’m sorry about that, Jacob. Truly.

“But you’ll have downtime when you’re back here, and we’ll do everything we can to help you get acclimatized. You’ll also be able to research anything we might have been able to piece together from survivor stories and secondhand accounts. Assuming you change the game that much. Just try not to kill me in-game, huh?”

With a snort, Jacob shook his head. I’m really going to do this, aren’t I? “What about my skills? Will I retain those? They’re mostly knowledge, aren’t they?”

“We do not think so,” Alice said. “You will know of them but you will not possess any of the strength or specific skills you do now.”

“There’s nothing that would stop you from acquiring it again in the game,” Alec put in. “You already know the various Sword Forms from years of training. It should be quick to relearn them. Like riding a bike.”

Jacob placed a hand on the cold glass of the FIVR pod. “All right. I’ll do it.” He turned to Alec. “But before we do, I need to know everything you can tell me about the path you took. The abilities you gained, the stats you picked, and the equipment you found. After all, I’m going to have to beat you.”

Alice squeezed Jacob’s arm. “Thank you, Jacob. I will find Ian and Clive, they should have the sedatives mixed already. Take as long as you need.”

As she walked out of the room, Jacob turned to Alec. “Tell me how you got through the Asylum of Silent Sorrows.”

Pyresouls Chapter 03

As Jacob laid in the FIVR pod, a potent sedative coursing in his veins, he knew he should be doing as Ian – their resident doctor – asked, namely counting backward from 100 out loud but he kept getting sidetracked.

Some of the things Alec said he did, the tricks he discovered either at the time or after were truly illuminating. And horrifying. “Ninety-five…” The Asylum of Silent Sorrows was the only area he never dared to go. It truly terrified him and it made sense that Alec had charged headlong into the frightening place.

In the past, Jacob took the much longer roundabout path into the Fogdrift Gardens. A veritable maze of darkness and fog, strewn with snakes and animated plants that were indistinguishable from the environment.

It took him a long time to get through it and even looking back through his memories, he wasn’t sure if he could navigate it at any speed. Not if he was going to beat Alec’s past-self to the Burgon Beast.

“Keep counting,” Ian reminded him.

“Ninety-four… ninety-three-”

In between one heavy blink and the next Jacob felt a stab of electric pain arc from the crown of his head to the bottom of his soles. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in a sea of darkness.

August 30th, 2035 – 14 days remain before the Collapse.

A beautiful half-naked woman stood in front of him. Her hair was like spun gold and there was a cloth tied around her eyes like a blindfold. She held a scroll protectively in both hands up to her chest. “I welcome you, Jacob Windsor.” She did a little curtsy. “I am here to remind you of the rules of the competition and to attain your signature on the contract. Be aware, that should you disagree with any of the rules, or refuse to sign you will be forcibly ejected and escorted from the premises.”

Jacob reeled from the sudden shift but he recovered quickly. He remembered this speech. Only last time, he was so excited to get into the game and get started he hardly noticed the scantily clad woman.

“I understand,” he said.

“Excellent,” she said cheerily. “The rules are simple. Firstly, all players must commit to full immersion. Any logouts are considered an automatic forfeit. By agreeing to this first stipulation, you will be provided with quality medical care to ensure that your physical self remains in top condition while immersed.

“Secondly, all players are to start at the same time. No new players are allowed once the competition is underway. From this point forward you have ninety minutes to agree to this contract and to complete your character creation.

“You may take more than the allotted time for character creation if you so choose but beware that other players will be released into the game world if they wish it. And finally, the first to reach – and defeat – the final boss is awarded the prize. There is no second place. Do you agree to these terms as I have described them?”

Jacob rubbed his smooth stubble-less chin. Gonna take a while to get used to that. “Is there any NDA I need to sign?” He had never thought to ask before.

If he could contact the outside world….

“No, there is no connection to any outside sources from within your gameplay experience. All the information you gain will have to be gathered by yourself or learned from other players within the game. There will be no outside communication. As such, if you forfeit early you may feel free to post about your experiences to your heart’s content.”

Right. Now, he remembered. Decade-old memories he never thought he would have any use for were beginning to come back to him.

His past self hadn’t asked the question but he clearly remembered the forums were lit up with experiences of various players that bowed out early. He learned a lot about the game – probably more than playing it himself – by reading the various accounts of mechanics and how certain magic worked.

Things like stat scaling, soft caps, and Soul farming were entirely foreign to him while he was playing. Things were different now. This wasn’t about playing a game. If he could pull this off, humanity itself would be saved. His family would live to see the next year.

The fate of billions rested on his narrow nineteen-year-old shoulders. And it terrified him. I don’t know how you did it day in and day out Alec. Maybe I should’ve asked you how you could shoulder so much responsibility all the time.

“I agree,” he said to the waiting avatar.

“Then sign here, please.” She unfurled the mile-long scroll and held it out. He was also agreeing to not sue Altis for the trauma he would endure in the game, and that it was entirely his choice to subject himself to the torturous experience that was Pyresouls Online.

A quill appeared in Jacob’s hand and he signed his name on the empty line. With a snap, the scroll rolled up and the avatar disappeared, replaced by a character creation menu.

Four mirrors materialized out of the darkness at each cardinal direction. Despite the dark all around, he could easily see his reflections surrounding him as if they were lit by an otherworldly source of light.

A ridiculous-looking loincloth covered his modesty. He couldn’t believe the lean teenager he was looking at. The man he became was covered with scars and old wounds, with hardened cords of muscle thickening his frame. This kid wouldn’t be able to survive a week Post-Collapse.

He paused and chuckled at that because he did survive. For years. And if he did things right, those memories would be nothing more than nightmares he had to live with for the rest of his life.

Small price to pay for saving humanity, he thought with a grimace. Not that anybody would know it was me.

That was the rub. The ultimate goal was one that, should he succeed, nobody would ever know the horrors that consumed the world. He would return to an Earth that was utterly normal and mundane. It would be foreign to him.

Then again, if he succeeded, he would win the competition. Having a few billion dollars would surely help to ease the transition. Honor, glory, and fame for saving humanity were all well and good. But having a swimming pool of money like those classic Duck Tales cartoons was a decent consolation prize.

The first thing that he had to pick was one of the four races in Pyresouls Online. A small list appeared in the top right of whichever mirror he was looking in at the time.

Reaching out, he tapped the list to bring it to the forefront. After he quit the game, the biggest point of contention between the players was the lack of extensive races.

On one hand, there was a camp of players that believed you didn’t need a dozen different races to make a unique character. They believed that the game’s mechanics and grueling difficulty was the main draw. Everything else was merely flavor.

The other group thought it was criminal to have any game in 2035 with only 4 playable races. There were hybrids of course. People usually forgot about that – Jacob included. A lot of Pyresouls was like that. Hidden paths, illusory walls, and objectives that were only possible if you went off the beaten path.

From what Alec said, the game practically required you to constantly play “out of bounds” as if the map’s suggestions were an obstacle to overcome and not a typical marker on where to go next.

Human, Elf, Fairy, and Karhu were the four races. Each of them had a base set of stats and there was no way to customize them.

In Pyresouls Online there were 8 stats: Vitality (VIT), Agility (AGI), Endurance (END), Temper (TMP), Strength (STR), Dexterity (DEX), Intelligence (INT), and Faith (FTH).

Most people could glean at least a little information from the basic stats of VIT, AGI, STR, and DEX. But few people understood precisely what TMP did, even less understood the interplay between INT and FTH.

VIT was the easiest one that most people understood. It governed total Health, a large red HP bar in the top left quadrant of his vision. Simple.

AGI increased one’s speed and physical swiftness while END governed total Stamina and increased Bleed Resist. END was one of the most important stats that few people understood early enough for them to take advantage of.

Pyresouls was largely a game about resource management and Stamina was used to do just about everything. Sprinting, rolling, dodging, jumping, swinging or firing a weapon, everything took Stamina.

Increasing Stamina meant you could go longer between needing to rest, where you were at your weakest and most likely to be killed.

TMP, on the other hand, was unlike anything in any other game. The in-game description – cryptic as always – only said, “Allows you to withstand the burden of Guilt.”

Not very informative.

What it really did, was determine your speed and encumbrance. Guilt functioned similarly to weight in a lot of other games.

Each piece of gear had a certain amount of Guilt associated with it. Mostly, this coincided with heavier armor but sometimes special armors, those that were uniquely powerful, had a high Guilt cost as well.

Each point of Guilt slowed you down as its burden upon your soul increased. There were certain breakpoints that people had found out by comparing information.

The general consensus was that each 25% of Guilt you carried incurred another penalty. From 0% to 25% then 25.1% to 50% and so on. Under 25% Guilt, you had full movement and no Stamina penalty. Each tier of Guilt above that slowed you down further and made your Stamina cost higher.

For example, your basic Human started with 5 TMP. That meant they could only have a single point of Guilt before they were penalized. Luckily, most of the starting gear had 0 points of Guilt on it.

Like the medieval gear they raided from collectors and museums, it would stand up to the monsters of Pyresouls, but it wasn’t particularly strong. It possessed enough Guilt to make it stronger than even the hardest nanowire weaves back home but not enough to encumber your movement.

But very quickly you could get gear dropped off the various monsters, or find it in chests – if the traps didn’t kill you first – and sooner than later you were moving like a fat old man in a girdle instead of some badass knight.

If you couldn’t move, you died.

Which made increasing TMP one of the most important things you could do. Especially early game, when you didn’t have many stats to begin with. It was the stat Jacob intended to boost first.

On his first attempt, he had found a piece of armor that even Alec didn’t know about. But it was so damn thick with Guilt that the first time he tried to wear the breastplate, he was killed trying to swing his sword at the half-armored Vacant he was fighting.

It didn’t matter how good the armor was if he was left vulnerable to every attack. Pyresouls wasn’t like a typical MMO where you loaded up on HP and armor, tanking everything the game could throw at you.

Even with an incredibly good set of armor and a proper shield, you had to play smart. The weakest enemies in the game could still kill you. They never stopped posing a lethal threat, even after the hundredth creature was slain.

In that sense, it wasn’t too dissimilar from the reality he knew for the last decade. While most skilled fighters could take a Vacant or two in single combat, all it took was a single mistake to die.

The only difference was, in Pyresouls Jacob would respawn at the last Pyre he touched. And for some reason on Earth, there were no Pyres.

Nobody ever quite figured that one out.

There was a theme of balance and picking stats wisely in Pyresouls. Having super high TMP was great to wear the best armor but if you couldn’t put down an enemy fast, you were at exponentially greater risk of death.

STR boosted the Attack Rating (AR) of any non-finesse based physical weapons. It was also required to wear certain gear and to wield specific weapons.

DEX boosted the AR of finesse weapons and increased spellcasting speed. Like STR, a lot of armor and weaponry required a specific amount of DEX to wear or use properly.

You could equip the items even without the required stats but there were a host of negative effects that usually didn’t make it worth doing.

INT and FTH were two sides of the same coin. They each increased a secondary stat like AR. INT increased Vile Intent while FTH increased Noble Intent.

Both were magical stats but for entirely different schools of magic that did not mix. And that was the reason that Jacob had failed so miserably on his first attempt. He picked Fairy as his race thinking he would be a spellcaster and then began to raise FTH to offset the imbalance.

Big mistake.

The problem was, Vile Intent and Noble Intent were incompatible to the extreme. Raising INT increased Vile Intent just as the game said but what it didn’t mention was that raising INT also decreased Noble Intent.

The inverse happened when you raised FTH.

It didn’t completely invalidate the other stat but it severely hamstrung its efficacy. And with each stat point being so hard to get – you only get one per level up – it was a waste of both stats.

You picked one based on the magic you wanted to use. INT for Sorcery and FTH for Clemency.

Jacob took a closer look at the description for Humans.

Human

The most fundamental and proliferate of all the known races. Humans have spread far and wide across Lormar due in no small part to their capacity to take up any role in society and see it filled. As a result, humans are very well-rounded individuals with no inherent weaknesses nor strengths.

VIT: 5 | AGI: 5

END: 5 | TMP: 5

STR: 5 | DEX: 5

INT: 5 | FTH: 5

Curse: Undeath

Boon: Bleed Resistance, Physical Resistance.

Bane: Reduced Speed, Fire Vulnerability.

That was the other thing about Pyresouls that people didn’t fully understand. You not only had to pick a race – a difficult enough proposition for most MMO players even without the stakes of the competition – but also a curse. A negative effect that likely caused more deaths than the game’s monsters.

Each race had its own curse. Human’s curse was turning into the undead. And as Earth was entirely populated by humans, it meant that any dead human would rise up again unless dispatched before they turned.

It gave rise to the Day of the Dead shortly after the Collapse and the proliferation of the Vacant.

In-game, the curse was different. You could influence it to a degree but it was painful and grueling. Most people opted to keep their curses at bay while a select few used them to frightening effect.

Each curse came attached to a specific race, but you could choose any curse from any other race if you so chose. Jacob’s first run through, he kept the human’s curse of Undeath.

Curses worked pretty simply on the surface, but like most things in Pyresouls there was a hidden complexity to using curses effectively.

As with most MMOs, Humans were the middle-of-the-road race. No stat was larger than the other, making them a solid choice especially when nobody had any clue what each of the stats did.

Despite that, any Human in Pyresouls was several times stronger than their counterparts on Earth. It was one of the primary reasons that players of Pyresouls who managed to survive the Collapse were so integral to the survival of those less fortunate bystanders around them.

What little people could understand after the Collapse suggested that a single point in any stat was equal to an average human. Two points were considered twice as strong as the average human, and so on.

Having 3 points in STR was the equivalent of a world-class bodybuilder. While 3 points in AGI made you as fast as some of the gold medalist sprinters.

Starting at 5 in every stat gave even a first level of Pyresouls a ridiculous advantage.

Alec had chosen human and regretted it. There was a lot of contradiction within Pyresouls and the world of Lormar. It suggested that balance was important but by doing so you were made ridiculously weak. It would take exponentially more Souls to level up and raise all your stats if you spread them out.

At higher levels raising a single stat could easily cost upwards of 20,000 Souls. Most of the dangerous enemies – enemies that when taken head-on gave you a 50% chance of survival – only gave around 800 Souls. And any time spent grinding for more Souls was time another person was progressing deeper into the realm of Lormar.

There simply wasn’t time to do more than one thing well and even then it often wasn’t enough.

I’ll need to decide on what I want to be before I choose a race, he thought, going over all the races for a brief refresher. Based on his discussion with Alec, he already had a good idea for what he wanted.

But he knew he had time and so he indulged himself. After all, he would only get to relive this once.

Elf

Rare and reclusive, elves are known for their superior swordsmanship and archery among the races. They are, however, less inclined to wield heavy bulky weapons and armor. They are also the likeliest of all to view the world through the lens of one who keeps to the old ways. They hold to their traditions well, allowing them unparalleled use of Harmony.

VIT: 3 | AGI: 7

END: 5 | TMP: 5

STR: 4 | DEX: 7

INT: 2 | FTH: 7

Curse: Fractured Sight

Boon: Peer into other realities and gain valuable insight into hidden paths.

Bane: Potential realities have a habit of bleeding into one another, letting in unspeakable horrors.

Fairy

Keen-minded but slight, fairies are renowned for their cunning and trickery. It should come as no surprise then, that they specifically aligned to the turbulent art of Chaos magic and the underlying Vile Intent that empowers it. Their excellent use of magic comes at a cost. They are physically frail and must work harder than other races to bring physical prowess to bear.

VIT: 2 | AGI: 8

END: 2 | TMP: 9

STR: 3 | DEX: 5

INT: 9 | FTH: 2

Curse: Soul Thief

Boon: You gain valuable insight when collecting Souls.

Bane: Memories can be overwhelming, blocking out threats around you.

Karhu

Powerful, nomadic people who keep to their tribalistic traditions. These large hulking bear-like people excel with a strength of arms but due to their past transgressions find it hard to bear the Guilt required of them. What they lack in magical strength they more than make up for in sheer physical prowess.

VIT: 9 | AGI: 5

END: 7 | TMP: 1

STR: 8 | DEX: 8

INT: 1 | FTH: 1

Curse: Ursinthrope (Werebear)

Boon: Increased physical prowess and defense.

Bane: Uncontrollable bloodlust.

Jacob was disappointed with being a fairy but that was because he misused it and could only find two spells during his entire time in Lormar.

Of all the curses available, the two most appealing were Ursinthrope and Fractured Sight.

Jacob had heard of enough people dying from Soul Thief while trapped in a memory that blocked out all senses. Most people didn’t even realize they died until the memory ended and they awoke next to the last Pyre they rested at.

If each kill that granted Souls provided some glimpse into that person’s life, it would be all but impossible to concentrate in a fight with more than one enemy. An all-too-common occurrence.

I’m good with a sword and shield, if I could use some magic to bolster both of those I might be in a good position. But that would require finding the spells.

Unlike every other MMO out there, spells had to be taught or found. You couldn’t make your own, and you didn’t get a spell simply for being a caster-type. Something Jacob had found out the hard way.

Every race had specific strengths and weaknesses. Karhu were powerhouses but you’d spend at least the first four level-ups boosting their TMP up so they could equip anything beyond the starter equipment. Which was also different per race and something that even Alec hadn’t known much about.

As strong as the karhu were, they lacked any magical prowess and he wanted to try and bolster his physical attacks with magic. Several enemies in Pyresouls were highly resistant to one form of damage or another. That made it incredibly valuable to have multiple weapons and damage types.

And finding a weapon that dealt magical damage was not only incredibly rare, but it also required an amount of INT or FTH (based on the magic of the weapon) to use.

Fairy was already out of the running, he played them last time. Using them well came down to finding spells and Spell Gems. Both of which were difficult to attain. If time wasn’t an issue he would have been tempted.

The few fairies Jacob saw at the Crossings often left him awe-inspired at their prowess.

That left elves as his only choice for a full-blooded race. According to Alec, if he picked two races at once he would create a hybrid. It was a little known secret, one that Jacob didn’t ever remember seeing posted on any forum after he quit.

While there was no way to customize your starting stats beyond choosing a race, by creating various hybrids you could influence the stats to your liking. Some combinations were simply bad.

Fairy mixed with karhu for example, made something very similar to a human although inferior to what Jacob wanted. Using human as a base worked well to temper the more extreme stat swings.

Human and karhu for example were physically robust and magically weak but not so much to the point of utter uselessness. Of course, their TMP was still quite low.

After playing around with different hybrids, for a grand total of 10 actual race choices when you counted the 6 hybrids, Jacob finally made his choice.

As tempting as being an elf was, he had no understanding of Clemency and its set of Harmony-based spells, which were based on FTH. Despite barely finding any spells as a fairy, he did learn a great amount of information about Sorcery and its set of Chaos-based spells.

Most of his information came from neither his own experience in the game nor from Alec. It came from the various forums after he quit the game, trying to understand what he did wrong. His primary reason for turning his back on Clemency was its effect on other players.

Compared to Sorcery, Clemency was less than half as potent at damaging other players. There wasn’t much information other than an overwhelming amount of anecdotes that pointed to Sorcery being designed to harm another person while Clemency was used to soothe those hurts.

The few instances of Sorcery that Jacob was unfortunate to see up close Post-Collapse only confirmed those suspicions. The most dangerous humans he ever dealt with – largely running away from them – were all Sorcerers.

He shuddered at the memories of the charred corpses of both monsters and innocent humans alike.

Pushing the memories from his mind, he selected human and fairy. The resulting stat build was close to what he was hoping for. A capable fighter with good capacity to wield Sorcery.

Unlike most games, you couldn’t change your physical appearance into something else entirely. Only changing race altered the way you looked.

Increasing various stats improved your physique but you were still you. Anybody you knew would still recognize you, not that that mattered when nearly everybody wore equipment that hid their features.

Still, it was neat to see the effects of being a human-fairy hybrid. Looking at himself in the mirror, Jacob’s green eyes turned bright. They gleamed with an inner-light when he tilted his head, much like a cat’s might flash in the dark but without the freaky slit.

His facial features were lifted a little, cheekbones a little higher. He thought he looked a bit more handsome with better facial symmetry but it had been a while since he had seen this younger face before.

Most intriguing of all were the emerald-green shimmering tattoos that curled across his brow and down each of his arms like emerald vines.

A deep resounding gong filled the dark emptiness around him and a large ruby-red countdown clock appeared as large as a holoboard you’d see from the interstate. He had an hour left.

I already spent thirty minutes doing this?

Thankfully the curse selection was going to be a lot easier. You couldn’t create hybrids with them like you could the races, making his choice easier. Undeath was off the table and as much as he’d like to turn into a hulking bear and rip things apart, he knew it was a trap.

Without control over your actions, you were no better than any other beast, and that meant you were easily killed by any enemy that could strategize.

While he hadn’t met many enemies that could do that early on, right before he quit the creatures he faced began to use pack tactics and according to Alec that only increased in the later areas.

That left Fractured Sight as the only contender. At least with what he knew of that curse, he could exert a modicum of control over it. Selecting the curse, he was greeted by a confirmation window for his choices.

It seemed the human and fairy hybrid had a name. He didn’t expect that.

Kemora – Fae-touched (Human/Fairy)

VIT: 3 | AGI: 6

END: 3 | TMP: 8

STR: 4 | DEX: 5

INT: 8 | FTH: 3

Curse: Fractured Sight

Boon: Peer into other realities and gain valuable insight into hidden paths.

Bane: Potential realities have a habit of bleeding into one another, letting in unspeakable horrors.

Accept?

Y/N.

Jacob tapped his finger against the mirror, confirming his selection. The other three mirrors vanished and were replaced with rows of mannequins wearing various types of armor and wielding weapons in their wooden hands.

He felt the change settle on his skin like static in his blood. He flashed a slightly feral grin at his reflection and turned to examine the equipment choices.

All that was left to do was pick his starting gear.

Pyresouls Chapter 04

There were 10 starting load-outs. Calling them classes would be a stretch since Pyresouls didn’t actually have any classes. Nevertheless, they were often referred to as classes. Probably for the sake of people coming into the game without any frame of reference.

Warrior, Knight, Rogue, Barbarian, Cleric, Hunter, Bandit, Noble, Sorcerer, and finally Savage. None of them changed your stats or gave you abilities like in most MMOs. It was down primarily to the gear you were given at the start. Gear that had remarkably low Guilt for the parameters they provided.

All of them except the Savage.

It seemed like a joke, armed with nothing but a loincloth – like he was currently wearing – and a crude club, they were sent out into the world utterly defenseless.

He saw a few of them running around at the Crossings. It was funny at first.

They were generally faster than any other player since they didn’t have to worry much about Guilt. But the deeper he pressed into the game the more their name made sense.

They were the most erratic players, as likely to attack you as to help you out, most people avoided them like the Red Plague.

It boiled down to the three armor types: Light, Medium, and Heavy. Like most other games each had its pros and cons. Magical damage was resisted most by Light and least by Heavy while physical damage was the inverse.

There were a few exceptions, and far too many seemed to forget that you could use a shield to bolster your defense to a specific type of damage.

The problem was, you couldn’t simply look at the armors given because each load-out came with a weapon as well. The magical types; Cleric, Noble, and Sorcerer all came with a Spell Gem that allowed you to use a single spell.

However, none of them came with a spell for said gem.

Warriors and Knights both came with straight swords and a shield. Rogues used daggers, Barbarians large two-handed axes, while Clerics used a mace and shoddy plank shield.

Hunters used a longbow, Bandits had a crossbow, Nobles used a rapier, and Sorcerers used a focus. A tiny crystalline idol that increased the efficacy of their spells when held.

For most people picking a Knight was a trap. They had the heaviest armor but also the highest stat requirements and Guilt. The result was most players were sluggish and awkward when they first came into the game, leading most people to believe that Knight was one of the worst picks.

But that was only if they lacked the TMP to withstand the Guilt. With 8 TMP, Jacob would be penalized for using the armor but not too severely. If he upped his TMP to 10 quickly, he could easily withstand the heavy 4 Guilt the entire Knight set – shield and longsword included – would incur.

He nearly touched the mannequin full of half-rusted, weathered plate mail before Alec’s voice came back to him. “You need a mace. It’s a ridiculously underappreciated weapon and you don’t get access to another strong blunt-type weapon until far too late in the game. Getting a sword and replacing that pile of planks they give a Cleric is easy. With a mace and a sword, you’ll have access to all three physical damage types. Trust me, you’ll need them.”

“Fair enough,” Jacob muttered, standing in front of the frail-looking parchment-colored robes of the Cleric. “I hope you’re right about this.” He reached forward and claimed the Cleric as his own.

You have chosen Cleric as your starting Class, please confirm your selection.

Cleric Equipment

Anointed Robe [Chest]

Physical Protection: 50

Blunt: 30

Slashing: 10

Piercing: 10

Magical Protection: 75

Arcane: 20

Fire: 10

Water: 20

Earth: 15

Harmony: 5

Chaos: 5

Resistances

Bleed: 12

Poison: 10

Curse: 0

Stability: 0

Durability: 300/300

Guilt: 0

Anointed Gloves [Gauntlets]

Physical Protection: 10

Blunt: 4

Slashing: 3

Piercing: 3

Magical Protection: 30

Arcane: 20

Fire: 10

Water: 0

Earth: 0

Harmony: 0

Chaos: 0

Resistances

Bleed: 5

Poison: 2

Curse: 0

Stability: 0

Durability: 300/300

Guilt: 0

Anointed Trousers [Leggings]

Physical Protection: 30

Blunt: 15

Slashing: 7

Piercing: 8

Magical Protection: 50

Arcane: 15

Fire: 10

Water: 10

Earth: 15

Harmony: 0

Chaos: 0

Resistances

Bleed: 20

Poison: 16

Curse: 0

Stability: 0

Durability: 300/300

Guilt: 0

Mace [Weapon]

Physical Damage: 100

Type: Blunt

Scaling: STR [B]

Magical Damage: 0

Arcane: 0

Fire: 0

Water: 0

Earth: 0

Harmony: 0

Chaos: 0

Status Infliction

Bleed: 10

Poison: 0

Curse: 0

Stagger: 50

Break: 30

Durability: 400/400

Guilt: 1

Plank Shield [Shield]

Physical Damage: 50

Type: Blunt

Balance: 50

Physical Reduction: 75

Arcane Reduction: 30

Fire Reduction: 10

Water Reduction: 30

Earth Reduction: 40

Harmony Reduction: 0

Chaos Reduction: 0

Durability: 300/300

Guilt: 0

Spell Gem: No Spell Inscribed

The Spell Gem was incredibly useful. He knew of the location of one early on and Alec gave him the location of another somewhere in the Defiled Cistern. He wasn’t sure he would have the time - or the desire - to get them, but knowing the location of two Spell Gems was incredibly valuable.

All he had to do was find some spells. Fairy Lights was the only spell he ever managed to find, and as the name suggests it wasn’t meant for damage.

Without any other spells at his disposal, he figured magical lights were better than nothing considering how soul-crushingly dark Pyresouls was.

Jacob groaned at the defense on the robes. On the upside, the only Guilt the entire set had was on the mace. With 8 TMP he wasn’t going to have any penalty to Speed or Stamina.

Both of which he’d have to use to their fullest because any of the early enemies would likely kill him in 2 to 3 hits with the Cleric’s armor.

There was nothing for it. According to Alec, the mace was incredibly useful. Jacob’s memories backed up his claims of its rarity because he couldn’t recall anybody ever using a mace.

And with the mace’s relatively high ability to stagger and break bones, he could imagine a few enemies it would be particularly potent against.

Those Stone Gargoyles aren’t going to know what hit them.

With fifteen minutes left on the timer, Jacob confirmed his selection. The robes vanished from the mannequin and appeared on his body. They were warm and surprisingly comforting to have on.

A brief tutorial popped up explaining how he could summon and dismiss weapons or gear at will but he already understood how it all worked.

When the game started he would receive his “first” [Boundless Box], it would store anything he didn’t put on his equipment panel.

Anything in the [Boundless Box], which was essentially his inventory, weighed nothing. Only the equipment that was currently on him counted toward his total Guilt. There were only four slots for armor: helm, chest, gauntlets, and leggings.

He would have to find a helm soon, hits to the head were particularly vicious. It was worth the reduced visibility to prevent getting easily stunned.

With nothing else to do, Jacob tested out summoning and dismissing his mace. Just like Post-Collapse Earth, the weapon disappeared into a swirl of ash and returned to his grip the same way.

He performed a few test swings, checking the balance of the steel mace and the wooden shield strapped to his left arm. He learned all he needed to know in those swings.

Jacob was awkward and unbalanced with the weapon. He had difficulty controlling it the way his mind knew he could. As a new player, all of his skills would be at 0. And as Alice said, he wouldn’t get the benefit of his years of training.

Though he remembered how to use many weapons, his body had no muscle memory and it lacked the strength and speed he was used to. This is going to take me a while to get acclimatized.

While practicing wouldn’t increase his skills before the game started, it would help him to realign his expectations to what his younger body was capable of. Overextending himself would only leave him wide open to a fatal counterattack.

Before he knew it, the darkness began to break and fade away. The countdown clock hit zero and its gong shivered reality like a pebble tossed into a still pond.

The Pyresouls Online Competition Will Now Commence.

Good Luck.

* * *

If you liked what you just read and are interested in continuing the story, head on over HERE to pick up the book.

I originally wrote Pyresouls alongside Beastborne and I intend to continue that trend, releasing both books as they are completed instead of pausing one to work on the other.