Glory to the Brave
Author: Luke Chmilenko
Date: 2020-09-15 04:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Science Fiction; Magic; Role Playing Games; Fiction
Description: Heroes don’t stand for themselves. They stand for others who cannot. Betrayed by those they’d taken in and narrowly avoiding a disaster of untold proportions, Lyrian and his friends are once again thrust into a fight for their very survival, this time against Carver and his band of murderous adventurers. But as their newfound war quickly reaches a stalemate, both sides find themselves scrambling for a way to break it, while viciously battling one another for every inch of ground that they can steal in the process. Yet just as Lyrian and the others manage to gain an advantage that could very we
Publisher: Aetherworld Productions Inc.

ASCEND ONLINE: Glory to the Brave

Copyright © 2020 by Luke Chmilenko. All rights reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or fictitious recreations of
actual historical persons. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and
unintended by the authors unless otherwise specified.

Editor: Dominion Editing

Proofer: Evan Mears

Cover Illustration: Yongjae Choi

Cover Design and Interior Layout: STK•Kreations

Hardcover ISBN: 978-1-7770169-0-6

Trade paperback ISBN: 978-1-7770169-1-3

Ebook ISBN: 978-0-9953378-9-3

Worldwide Rights.

1st Edition, September 2020

Published by Aetherworld Productions Inc.

www.lukechmilenko.com

Table of Contents

The Story So Far

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

Epilogue

Lyrian’s Character Sheet at the End of Glory to the Brave

Amaranth’s Character Sheet at the end of Glory to the Brave

Help me reach my goal!

Afterword

Other Series by Luke Chmilenko

Thank You, Patrons!

Stormweaver: Iron Prince

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 1

To my grandparents:

Thank you.

To Anastasia:

Welcome to the world.

The Story So Far

Welcome back viewers! This is Vincent the Faceroller coming to you all hot here with a recap of the last two seasons of our Virtus crew out in Aldford that have taken the world by storm! For those of you like myself who’ve had the episodes on repeat while waiting for this new season, you are more than welcome to skip ahead here, unless of course you happen to love listening to my voice as much as I do. Then you are more than welcome to listen on as I break down all the things you need to know in this rough and irreverent overview!

Are you ready? Alright, here we go!

So starting off with Season One, we have our main hero, Lyrian, who jumped into the world of Ascend Online with his friends on launch day, but for reasons unknown, ended up being split from them and dumped into the frontier town of Aldford. Landing in the settlement with not even so much as a loincloth to protect his dignity, Lyrian found himself attacked by a horde of nasty goblins who were in the process of invading the town. So from there, like any good adventurer does, he goes full goblin slayer on their tiny asses and clears out the place with the help of a few other villagers that he manages to rally in the process. During this process, he’s introduced to the major movers and shakers of the town, meeting Aldwin – the Bann of the settlement, Jenkins – the town’s resident handyman, Ritt – Aldford’s sole merchant, and lastly Shelia – a priestess of the Dawnfather and the town’s healer.

But of course, with the tiny gremlins being the colossal pains in the butts that they are, they managed to wreck almost everything in the town as well as spoil what food had been stockpiled, leaving everyone to pick up the pieces as best they can. In Lyrian’s case, this has him going out into the countryside to hunt and find what resources he can, the next few days passing in a blur of activity. During that stretch, Lyrian manages to earn himself a Nemesis in the form of a particularly angry Puma, stumble into a long since abandoned Nafarrian ruin, finding a neat sword in the process, and rescuing an elf named Natasha, who had been part of a Mages Guild Expedition in the area from Eberia. Fortunately, it isn’t too long until Lyrian’s friends arrive, lending several more hands to the town’s rebuilding efforts. At least until things kick themselves up a notch and a horde of spiders start pouring out of the nearby forest.

Ætherwarped spiders that happen to explode when you kill them. You guys remember that, right? I still have nightmares.

Scrambling to deal with the new threat, the group is forced to defend Aldford from an all-out spider invasion, barely managing to cut them down before they can destroy the place. This of course leaves another gigantic mess for everyone to clean up, some of it involving a large stain of brightly glowing spider ichor that had been infused with raw magic. Unsure of what exactly to do to best take care of it, the group decides to push it all together in a pile and on a whim, toss a handful of acorns onto it, in hopes that if maybe something ends up growing from the mess, they won’t have to worry about the magically contaminated ground.

And of course as I’m sure we can all remember, that’s exactly what happens, the acorns sprouting into the beginnings of a tall, azure-hued oak tree overnight.

From there, the people of Aldford do the best they can to recover from the attack, turning their attention to the Webwood, where the attack had come from. Deciding that they need to get to the bottom of the magically warped spiders before another, possibly even larger attack hits the town, the group then sets off in search of wherever it is that they’re coming from, blazing a path deep into the forest. As they do, they manage to luckily find the remains of the Eberian Mages Guild Expedition camp that had been attacked by some of the very same goblins that raided Aldford a few days earlier. But of course as these things go, they barely have the time to poke through the place before they find themselves attacked by not only another set of freakily magically altered spiders, but also Lyrian’s furry Nemesis.

Battling things out in a glorious three-way showdown, the group manages to fortunately gain the upper hand in this mess, killing the spiders and sending the Nemesis running for the hills in the process. Not wanting to let the thing continue to stalk them, Lyrian and the others give chase to the puma, eventually tracking it to yet another abandoned Nafarrian ruin, which conveniently is the source of the spider infestation. Exploring the place, it isn’t long before they find themselves caught up in a sprawling battle against not only the ruin’s security system and the Nemesis, but a swarm of spiders and a goblin mage while simultaneously finding another member of the missing Mages Guild Expedition named Donovan. Forming a quick alliance as they decide to hunt their respective enemies, the group, plus Donovan, go to confront the goblin and the Spider Queen in the deepest parts of the ruin, her twisted form straddling a rent open section of the Ley Line. A Ley Line that both Lyrian and his Nemesis end up taking a swan dive into in the final moments of their fight, resulting in a touch of Ætherwarping for the pair and birth of our lovable, blue-furred familiar, Amaranth. Winding down from the showdown with the Spider Queen, the group heads back to Aldford and celebrates their victory with peace finally falling over the forest, giving them all a chance to breathe.

If at least for a short while.

Knowing it was a matter of time until more players start arriving to the region or another monster attack happens, the group then focuses their efforts on rebuilding and fortifying Aldford giving it the defenses that it didn’t have during the first goblin attack. An effort that is rewarded when, like clockwork, they find a large swarm of Adventurers headed to the town, very clearly bearing ill will to whatever crossed their path. It’s at this point where we have our big guy Graves entering in from stage left, the man and his flunkies having expected to reach Aldford with his friends already in charge.

Friends that may or may not have been accidently knocked off by the rest of the group on their way to join Lyrian in Aldford.

In any case, Graves doesn’t take the group’s resistance in allowing him to take over the town lightly and moves to attack, immediately finding himself on the receiving end of a vicious beatdown from Lyrian. Enough so, that by the time the birds stopped spinning around his head, his entourage had managed to throw themselves headfirst into the shiny new defenses that the gang has prepared. And I mean that literally. If you check the top ten deaths from season one, you’ll see that four of them are from this battle alone with attackers getting thrown face first into the Tribuli pits the group dug around the town. Anyway, getting back to the fun, with Graves’s people running off half-cocked to the battle it allows a large group of imprisoned Adventurers they’d captured to break free, sending everything into chaos. Overwhelmed at this point, Graves and his followers realize that they need to beat feet and run away or they’ll be getting an all-expenses paid ticket back to Eberia and manage to run off into the forest.

Regrouping after the battle, Lyrian and the others have to a chance to meet Freya and the others (See what I did there?) the group of newcomers joining the town, happy to be free from the clutches of Graves, Carver, and all the others that had captured them. At this point, we all break for an interrogation of the Adventurer that had been captured from Graves’s attack along with a training montage of the group getting ready to chase after Graves. Which is exactly what they end up doing after they learn that some of their people had been captured by Carver and the very same goblins that had plagued the group from the beginning. Pushing ahead from there, our newly expanded gang, now accompanied by Freya, Thorne, and the Thunder Lizards explore in the direction that Graves and others had fled, eventually finding the ruined remains of an ancient tower being reclaimed by the forest.

Oh, and goblins too, lots and lots of goblins.

Charging in collectively, it’s then time for the whole group to channel their inner goblin slayer once again, carving through a swath of the annoying creatures forcing their way into the tower where the creatures have made their home. Now as we all know, fire is the natural enemy of goblins, and the group makes plenty of use of it as they push deeper into the ruin, burning their nest to ash. This arsonous path eventually leads them through the goblins and into the abandoned parts of the tower, where they find evidence of ancient artificing beyond their understanding. Unfortunately they don’t have any time to pursue that, as Carver picks that moment to rear his ugly head with the Adventurers that he’d kidnapped, killing them right in front of the group in brutal fashion. Stunned a little by his viciousness, the group moves to confront the man and promptly find themselves being attacked by the Ætherwarped survivors of the Eberian Mages Guild, their bodies wickedly twisted by magic, allowing Carver and his followers a chance to escape in the chaos.

Regrouping from the mess, the group has little other option but to press forward, eventually finding themselves entering a tunnel that the goblins had forced the expedition survivors to dig. Leading into a magical chamber that was once buried at the base of the tower when it still stood, the group arrives just in time to see Graves and the remainder of the goblins in the middle of doing something to a font of magical power that was being siphoned off of the Ley Line below. The result of this ends up with the spirit of an ancient Nafarrian Slave-King that was possessing Graves’s armor being given a physical form, or an ethereal one at least. Now I’m sure by this point you’re all starting to remember what happened next as we have the big season ending climax here, with Lyrian and Graves squaring off with one another as the others battle back and forth with the Slave-King and the goblins. Better geared and better motivated, Lyrian manages to lay Graves out a second time during this mess and snatches up an artifact that had been in the room, an Annulment Sphere, and charges the Slave-King with it, jumping straight into him in an ultimate clutch move to seal the win for the gang.

Unfortunately that comes at the price of Lyrian’s Ætherwarping going completely off the charts and leaving him a bit of a withered husk. But despite that physical change, the magic of the sphere grants our Spellsword hero the ability to drain mana from anything he touches, which if you ask me is a pretty badass thing to have. Winding down from there, the group then sends Graves on his merry way back to respawn land and rescues the last few expedition members that didn’t end up biting it, taking them all back to Aldford for a round of much needed rest. It’s during this rest that Lyrian, Freya, and all those we’ve come to know and love come together to form Virtus, bringing us to the end of season one.

What? Did you think that was the whole thing? That was just the warm-up. Season two is where the action really lights up, so buckle up!

Starting off with an epic battle, Lyrian and Virtus start it off with a bang, attacking a horde of bandit Adventurers that were in the middle of raiding a group of settlers that were overdue to arrive at Aldford. But thanks to their timely arrival, they are able to rescue them without losing too many settlers in the chaos and safely escort them back to Aldford where they are all welcomed to the town with open arms. As they do, they find themselves meeting a whole new host of arrivals, the largest amongst them being Justicar Joseph Dyre and Lord Adrian Stanton, along with our other group of standout Adventurers, Lazarus, Sawyer, and Ransom (Check out their feed titled ‘Hell to Pay’ if you want to learn more about them! It’s a wicked urban fantasy adventure filled with fire and brimstone!).

But as they settle into the city, they quickly find themselves with a host of exciting news as well as a handful of growing pains. Starting with the news first, delivered by Stanton, he warns the group both of the political turmoil that’s growing back in Eberia and also that of a building magical signature that is growing near Aldford. One that’s built high enough that they’ve been able to sense all the way back from the city, miles upon miles away. Instantly having an idea of what the noble might be talking about, Lyrian and the others are interrupted in their explanation by the abrupt death of an Adventurer in the town, one that was killed by Mozter, our resident copycat Spellsword. Taking more than a little offense to the death, we at that point have an epic five on three duel with Mozter’s entire group against Lyrian, Freya, and Amaranth, to which ends up with all five of the offending Adventurers heading for a fast respawn.

Followed by a quick exile away from the town once Dyre got involved.

It’s at that point where we get a warning from Lazarus that Stanton isn’t quite what he seems to be. Unsure about the exact nature of the warning, or how much to even believe the man and his group, there is little else that he can do until he learns more, choosing to instead keep an eye on the noble. Fast forwarding through all of that for the next few days, Lyrian and Virtus then play babysitter with Stanton as they lead him through all of the nearby Nafarrian ruins so that they can best figure out exactly what’s going on with the Ley Line that they believe is leaking raw magic underneath Aldford. In one of the ruins in particular, the lakeside one near Crater Lake, they find hints that it may go deeper underground and make plans to see if they can’t excavate a passage to reach it. Unfortunately, it’s during this time that Stanton proves to be a huge pain in the butt and tries to dominate Lyrian and the others through sheer force of will, causing them to bite back at him and effectively cut him out of the investigation.

This in turn, sets off a particularly confusing chain of events which has Stanton revealing that he isn’t ‘Stanton’ as we know it, but rather an agent, or a spy rather, sent by none other than the Dowager Queen Emilia Denarius. Receiving a crash course in Eberian politics during the revelation, it’s at that point that Stanton reveals his true purpose in coming to the frontier, which is to help fix the Ley Line, something that’s needed for Eberia’s defense, and to help the queen wash her hands of Aldford. Or specifically, Aldwin. Apparently the elder knight had been caught up in the middle of a scandal surrounding the previous prince’s, Prince Rainier’s, death at the end of The War, resulting in his effective exile because of it. That scandal has led to the other noble houses of Eberia focusing their attention on both him and Aldford, sending their own spies into it, or at least trying to. Unfortunately with so many of the promised settlers killed by the bandit Adventurers, neither the group nor Stanton have any idea who, or if anyone at all, might be working on behalf of the other noble groups. Leaving that information in the back of their minds for the time being, the group parts angrily with Stanton, both his deception weighing heavily on them as well as the discovery that they’ve been pulled into politics they don’t understand.

Fortunately, that source of frustration is given a great outlet to be vented on, in the form of Carver and his own group of Adventurers, which hit the guild as they are in the middle of returning from a scavenging run at the fallen tower. Hitting them hard, the two groups have a chance to throw down in a messy forest battle, during which our hero, Lyrian, unfortunately gets mana drained to the point where he loses control of his hunger and ends up biting the big one. Despite that however, the group manages to put up a good enough fight that they’re all able to escape Carver and his goons with only minimal losses. But during that particular fight, they manage to come across a startling revelation, that the Adventurer has managed to align himself with an unknown group of orcs, something that worries everyone in Aldford.

Faced with a new threat on top of the one brewing under the town, Lyrian and the others find themselves pulled in multiple directions as they try to deal with everything at once, finding that despite their attack on them, Carver and his adventurers have effectively vanished. Doing their best to keep searching for them, the group is eventually forced to turn their full attention on the ruins after they’ve been fully excavated, their efforts revealing a massive underground complex buried deep within the earth. Diving into the place, they then have a dungeon crawl of near epic proportions as they explore the ancient Nafarrian ruin, finding that it is far from empty, even after all the centuries that it had been buried and locked away from sight. It’s during this delve that they encounter dozens of restless undead spirits belonging to the Nafarr, their specters having been tethered to the place, or more specifically to the mana and Æther empowering it. Fighting their way through them, the group eventually finds themselves in a battle with a massive security golem, a weathered and aged Nafarrian Sentinel that had once protected the installation.

Defeating it by the skin of their teeth, the group reaches the end of what survived the Nafarrian ruins and enters into a massive underground cavern they name The Twilight Grove, spotting the ruptured Ley Line flowing brightly in the distance. Filled with a plethora of strange looking plants and vicious creatures, they find themselves in an underground jungle, managing to last long enough inside it to attract the attention of its top apex predator.

The Beast.

Wiping out the group with the ease that we would swat a fly, the group then finds themselves dumped back into Aldford where they report what they’d seen and muster a call to all of the other Adventurers to descend down into the Grove and help clear it. So like all good Adventurers do when there’s a call to go forth and kill things for experience and loot. They answered, eagerly rushing into the underground ruin in search of adventure. From there, the next week turned into an endless grind of blood and mayhem as they worked to tame the underground jungle and the creatures within while trying to figure out how to seal the Ley Line. It’s during that time that Lyrian and the others start finding the Runestones that had survived whatever disaster had made the Grove, the strange artifacts the only remains of the Nafarrian magic that once tamed the Ley Line. So as they push through the place in search of the stones, they find the world once again turned upside down as a group of Adventurers, Ignis and his crew, happen to push a little too far, finding themselves accidently aggroing another wave of those Nafarrian ghosts that had made their home in the Æther.

Oh, and also kicking off a huge world event in the process as they trained the base camp that had been set up at the Grove’s entrance with a horde of angry ghosts.

Barely surviving being overrun by the attack, Lyrian and all of the other Adventurers of Aldford do their best to dig in and survive the spirits’ onslaught as they come up with a plan of action. Which based on the next Runestone that they’d discovered, was to go try and beard The Beast in its lair. Taking the time to prepare themselves, they all assemble themselves into a large raid before diving into the Grove in search of the massive creature, eventually reaching the sliced open patch of rock that it made its home in.

Which is about when everything goes off the rails in spectacular fashion.

Deciding that it is a perfect time to betray everyone, Ignis and his followers pick that moment to start attacking healers within the raid while simultaneously pulling The Beast early, causing it to charge everyone. Scrambling to deal with this, the raid barely manages to regroup from the surprise attack and win the day, defeating The Beast after an intense battle. But that’s only the start of their problems there, as before he was killed earlier in the battle, Ignis revealed to Lyrian that he’d been working with Carver all this time and that they had timed their betrayal to coincide with him attacking the ruins on his own. Armed with a new purpose, the raid then copies down the spell written across the Runestone before running in pursuit of Carver, who in all likelihood made a beeline towards the ruptured Ley Line. Blazing a path through the underground jungle, it doesn’t take long from there for the group to find and confront the bandit group of Adventurers, battling with them on the edge of a massive lake of Æther. It’s during this battle that Carver uses his power to twist the ancient Nafarrian spirits into a Shoggoth, hoping to use it to destroy both Lyrian and Aldford in one fell swoop.

What he doesn’t account for is the ritual that they’ve been slowly piecing together during their push through the Twilight Grove, both Lyrian and Halcyon managing to assemble the final bits of it together and cast it before they could be overwhelmed. Binding the mighty spell to the roots of the Ætherwarped oak tree from above, they manage to use it to seal the Ley Line and destroy the Shoggoth, saving the day at the last possible second.

Relieved that they’d managed to avoid a disaster of untold proportions, our heroes manage to have an entire nine or ten hours to themselves to rest and recover from their victory before their world is turned upside down again by Carver as he and his Dread Crew waste no time in retaliating in response to their earlier loss.

Which finally brings us to where we are now in Season Three…

Chapter 1

Sunday, April 7th, 2047 – 2:42 p.m.

The Plains

Time slowed as a wave of magic coursed through me, giving me a perfect view of the oncoming sword, the blackened metal blade slicing through the air at an almost glacial pace. Taking in the weapon’s path, I realized that there was no chance of me evading the attack, even in my heightened state.

Gritting my teeth at the pain to come, I threw my arm upward to intercept the blade, the sound of metal hitting metal drawing itself out into one long, incomprehensible note as it impacted my vambrace with bone-cracking force. Twisting my body to face my attacker, I thrust out with Splinter, turning just in time to guide its azure length deep into the armpit of the snarling half-orc. Wrenching the sword viciously within the adventurer’s flesh, I yanked the blade free, my legs already working to carry me past the man, who had yet to even register his failed attack, let alone his mortal wound. As quickly as it had begun, the magic flowing through me stopped, allowing time to regain its normal hold on me as I pushed my way past the half-orc.

“Urk!” I heard a pained gasp echo out from behind me, the sound of a body hitting the ground heavily a heartbeat later.

“Better luck next time,” I whispered quietly to the fallen adventurer as I began to move, the pain that I’d been expecting finally flaring through my arm and causing a low hiss to escape through my teeth.

There’s hardly anything left now. The thought slammed into me as I forced myself to scan my path for any other threats, my eyes playing over the war-torn landscape around me. Once a lush place full of life, the plains had been reduced to a near-endless field of smoldering embers and choking ash. The grass, the creatures, all gone. All because—

A loud thunderclap of magic from ahead interrupted my thoughts, my head turning towards the flash in time to see a pair of figures fall to the ground, my raid sense telling me that neither of my extended groupmates was going to rise again. Glancing around for the source of the magic, I spotted three rapidly moving figures, their attention having shifted off their most recent victims.

And landing on me.

“Damn it,” I cursed, throwing up an arm to cover my face as a barrage of magic slammed into the ground before me, throwing a spray of burning dirt and ash into the air. “More stragglers.”

Pushing aside any thought of retreat, I launched myself directly towards my attackers, eager to put an end to their annoyance as fast as possible. Not expecting my aggressive move, I saw surprise appear on all three of their faces as I closed the distance, their expressions shifting into recognition as they realized who they had caught.

Which then rapidly morphed into fear.

With the world blurring into a sea of colors, I had an instant to savor the regret I saw on their faces as the space between us instantly vanished, and I reappeared directly in front of them, Splinter already moving through the air. Slashing upwards with all of my momentum behind me, the azure blade took the lead member of the trio directly in the hip, carving diagonally across his body until it reached the opposite shoulder, the thin robe-like armor on his body doing little to impede the sword’s progress.

A pained cry escaped the man’s lips as I finished my attack, my shoulder slamming into his chest a second later, sending him staggering into one of his companions behind him who reflexively tried to catch him. Not yet done, my free hand shot towards the adventurer’s exposed throat, a burning dagger coalescing into existence an instant before it plunged into flesh. Letting out a strangled gurgle, the attack proved to be too much for the man to take, and he finally lost his balance, his sudden shift in weight taking the groupmate struggling to catch him down to the ground with him.

“Get hi—” I heard one of attackers bark as I triggered a now-familiar spell, once more causing time to slow to a crawl and distorting all sound around me.

Turning my attention away from my earlier victim, I twisted my body towards the sound of the shouting voice, catching sight of an Eberian man as he slashed out towards me with a pair of short swords. Reacting to the attack as quickly as I could in my accelerated state, I managed to interpose Splinter in front of one of the blades, deflecting it harmlessly to the side. Yet there was little I could do for the second attack, feeling the blade scrape briefly across my armor before it managed to bite through and draw a long gash along my stomach and side.

Burying the beginnings of pain under a surge of adrenaline, I completed my turn towards the Eberian, Splinter already in motion as I lashed out, slicing the blade across the outstretched arm that had just wounded me. Almost instantly, I saw a line of blood appear from around Splinter’s edge as it sliced through flesh and tendons before grating on bone, the man’s hand going limp and causing the sword he was holding to fall free from his grasp.

Kicking the falling sword out of the adventurer’s reach as it fell, I swept Splinter back up to catch a reflexive swipe from his other blade, stopping it cold before it could reach me. Barely feeling the strain of blocking the blow through my arm, I effortlessly trapped the man’s blade with Splinter, pinning it in place and allowing me a clear shot at his face with my fist. Crackling with electricity, my hand connected with the side of the adventurer’s jaw, causing his head to snap backward viciously from the impact.

Pushing down on the sudden wave of hunger that rose from within me, I slid Splinter off the stunned man’s blade and used my enhanced speed to chop it into the side of the man’s neck. Dragging the blade across the exposed flesh once more, I felt the sword briefly grate across bone before it suddenly came free, a spray of red painting the air behind it. Sidestepping the blood before it could hit me, I shifted my attention away from the wounded man, dismissing him from my mind as quickly as I had the first, turning to look towards the sole remaining member of the trio.

Only to find a large azure puma standing over the savaged remains of the final groupmate, a feral expression written across the cat’s battle-worn face as his eyes met mine.

<These are the last of their eyes on this flank.> A mental voice echoed through my mind as I let go of the coursing wave of magic that surged through me and felt my perception resume its normal rate. <They let their hunger for the kill overwhelm their sense.>

“Good,” I replied to the cat in a flat voice, looking at the bodies on the ground then up towards the horizon. “Where are the others?”

<Pressing forward and ensuring that no others come to interrupt us,> the puma answered, his head snapping to look in the direction of several loud thunderclaps of magic that suddenly echoed in the distance. <It seems that the battle has already begun.>

“Then that’s where we need to be,” I said, feeling my heart begin to race at the sounds of battle in the distance.

Running across the ash-filled plains together, my eyes couldn’t help but play across the war-torn landscape, once again shocked by how fast the plains had been reduced to such a state. In barely a week it had gone from lush and verdant grassland to a battlefield filled with death and carnage. Craters filled with dirt and ash dotted the plains everywhere I looked, remnants of the magic that had been thrown about during a battle or skirmish that I couldn’t even remember anymore.

Or don’t want to remember. The thought floated through my mind as we continued to run, a small hill finally coming into view, along with nearly two dozen figures lying in wait behind it. Crouching down as I approached, I saw several heads turn in Amaranth’s and my direction, wary eyes meeting mine until recognition set in. Not breaking our stride, we continued past the waiting adventurers and climbed up the hill, dropping down as we reached its apex where a single red-haired woman lay prone on her stomach. Crawling up beside her wordlessly, the distant thunderclaps of magic that I’d been hearing evolved into a deafening cacophony of screaming intermixed with the near-constant ring of metal on metal.

All of it coming from the massive battle taking place just before me.

Fighting in the channel of what may have once been the route of an ancient river were two large groups of adventurers, their ranks interlocked in a contest of blood and death, a constant storm of arrows and magic reigning high above. It was a scene that I had seen far too much of in the past days, and one that I knew I’d likely see again, even if this day ended in our favor.

“Lyrian.” Sierra’s tired voice greeted me as Amaranth and I arrived beside her, my gaze flashing to meet hers before shifting away and back onto the battle. “How’d it go?”

“The flank is clear,” I reported in the clearest voice I could manage, tasting ash in my mouth as I spoke. “But we took heavy losses. There were more of them than we were expecting. Almost too many.”

“Do they know we’re here?” Sierra asked in a concerned tone, no doubt having sensed our losses via raid sense while she and the others had carefully worked their way into position, able to do little to help us other than bide their time.

“No,” I answered, shaking my head as I watched the lines suddenly shift below, fresh attackers moving on both sides to take place of the dead and wounded. “If they did, they would have sent more—much more. At best, they may have a few stragglers left over that got past us, but certainly not enough to stop us, let alone threaten us with.”

“Fair enough,” Sierra replied, the three of us pausing to watch the battle below as the lines continued to shift. “How much longer do you think?”

“A minute, maybe two,” I said, seeing one of the lines begin to shrink away, giving ground in order to consolidate itself. “Drace seems to have it well under control.”

“He’s well-practiced,” Sierra stated. “We all are by now.”

Grunting in acknowledgment, we continued to stare at the unfolding battle below, watching the force continue its steady retreat, its ranks contracting tighter and tighter while the pursuing force’s ranks gradually spread out in an attempt to envelop it and pin it in place.

“This looks like it should be good enough,” Sierra said to me, her voice cold and emotionless as she spoke. “If we wait any longer to get moving, we might miss our chance.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, struggling to take my eyes off the fighting below and followed the scout back down the hill.

Our return to the group needed no fanfare or announcement, everyone simply rising to their feet and drawing their weapons. Each of us knew what our role in this battle was and why we’d gone through all this trouble to ensure that we weren’t seen. This last week had brought us nothing but death and misery as we fought an eternal stalemate across the plains, losing ground one day only to retake it the next, then lose it once more. The plan today was to try and break the pattern that we’d found ourselves in, to find a way forward through the chaos we’d found ourselves thrust into.

Which will likely escalate this war if it ends up working, a pessimistic voice whispered in my ear, echoing the one doubt I still harbored. Shaking my head, I shoved the errant thought out of my head and instead focused my attention on the group, hearing Sierra’s crisp words fill the air.

“It’s time,” she stated in a confident voice, meeting the eyes of the waiting adventurers. “You all know what we need to do.”

Those few words were all that we needed to get everyone moving, their readiness honed to a razor’s edge and their nerves worn thin after spending so much time waiting on the sidelines while the rest of their companions fought and died. Barely seconds after Sierra’s words had left the air, I found myself on the other side of the hill with Amaranth sprinting by my side, the two of us leading the waiting force towards the battle. Abandoning any attempt at stealth, the distance between our two forces vanished rapidly as we targeted our approach towards the advancing adventurers’ rear.

Thundering across the ash-covered ground, my eyes easily found our target amidst the adventurers, the near-constant stream of magic surging upwards into the air, making it no secret to where the enemy mages were.

And where Amaranth and I needed to be.

<Get ready!> I primed the cat running beside me as I fixed a pair of spells in my mind, finally beginning to see heads turn in our direction, allowing me to catch brief glimpses of confusion and surprise flashing across the enemy’s faces before they blurred away into a wild swirl of colors.

Teleporting through the loosely organized ranks, Amaranth and I evaded the rearmost ranks of adventurers as they turned to meet Sierra and the others, reappearing a body’s length away from the bulk of the enemy mages, their backs still turned towards us. Bracing Splinter on my hip as I continued my charge forward, I almost felt a surge of pity for what was about to happen.

The key word being almost.

With a loud roar from Amaranth heralding our arrival, I thrust Splinter’s tip deep into the back of an elven spellcaster, feeling the æthertouched blade punch through armor, flesh, and bone as if it were paper. Twisting the blade viciously as I slammed into the mage from behind, I felt a brief wave of cool energy shoot up my arm before I pulled the sword free and slashed out towards another spellcaster, severing a hand that was in the middle of conjuring an orb of fire. A chorus of shouts rose into the air as the spellcasters began to react to Amaranth’s and my presence, panic shooting through those closest to me as they abandoned their spells and turned towards us.

Too late for that, I thought as I rushed even deeper into the cluster of mages, reaching out to the ravenous hunger that now lived deep within me, and for the briefest of moments, I set it free.

In an instant, I felt my world fracture into two competing sensations as my stomach contorted itself in sudden agony, the hunger within me reaching out past the limits of my body and drawing what it so very much craved. Then almost at the exact same moment, a near overwhelming flow of energy rushed into me, causing the very hunger paining me to recede and becoming a dull throb in the back of my mind.

“Shit! It’s him!” I heard a voice cry out in a panic as the twin sensations faded from me, several more shouts echoing out in sympathy as they found their ability to cast spells temporarily interrupted.

Not that they’re going to have the time to cast anything, I said mentally, allowing myself a savage grin at the fear that the enemy mages had shown, once again feeling my reflexes and perception sharpen as a wave of magic came over me, however, this time also flowing through the link I shared with Amaranth.

Positioned perfectly amongst nearly a dozen surprised spellcasters who were all unable to cast spells, the next few seconds passed in a blur of carnage as Amaranth and I inflicted grievous wounds on everyone that we could reach. So used to fighting from afar or with support from their more martially oriented companions, the spellcasters all fell into disarray as they all scrambled over one another in an attempt to get away from us—which served to place them right in the path of Sierra’s trailing group, the troupe of allied adventurers scything deep into the flailing spellcasters as they too joined the battle.

Falling into line with the red-haired scout as she leaped onto a fleeing spellcaster, the battle rose to a feverous pitch as we relentlessly carved a path through the stunned spellcasters, our progress slowing when other adventurers finally rallied to counter our assault. But despite their best efforts to save their companions, our initial attack had served its purpose, the enemy spellcasters having been thoroughly culled until barely a handful remained standing.

“Keep pushing! Don’t stop for anything!” I heard my voice shout sometime later as I pulled Splinter free from a dying warlock’s stomach, pausing to kick the adventurer to the ground before heeding my own words and lunging ahead. Carving a steady path forward, we gradually pushed our way to the core of the enemy ranks, the world dissolving into sheer butchery as weapons met flesh and magic sailed through the air, each of our sides venting our anger on our opponents in any way that we could.

“There’s Halcyon and the others!” Sierra shouted through the chaos after what seemed like hours of fighting, using one of her swords to indicate a hail of magical energy high in the air moments before it began to land amid the enemy adventurers, deafening thunderclaps announcing their arrival. No sooner did the last of the magic stop falling did a loud horn cut through the sudden silence, prompting a loud roar of anger to rise in answer.

Followed by the sound of charging feet.

“And there’s Drace!” I called back to Sierra, seeing the adventurer army recoil as if physically struck, many of them turning back to flee, only to find themselves trapped between our two forces.

Just in time for a second wave of magic to explode amongst their ranks.

Rocked by three punishing blows in rapid succession, the latest magical assault proved to be the final straw, the adventurers’ lines and discipline disintegrating in an instant as they began to devolve into a full out rout. Like a wounded beast having suffered a mortal injury, the army began to hemorrhage its members, at first in singles and pairs, then in larger groups as more and more adventurers sought to flee any way they could.

Then just like that, the latest battle on the blood-soaked plains was over in all but name, save for the grisly task of chasing down what stragglers we could catch and harassing those we could not just enough to ensure that they would keep running—a task that I was more than happy to leave for the other adventurers, exhausted by the near-constant fighting the day had brought.

<A fierce battle.> Amaranth’s voice echoed through my head as we stood by ourselves sometime later, looking over a sea of broken bodies and enjoying a moment of respite while we watched teams scour the field for wounded, regardless of what side they may have belonged to during the battle. <But were we…successful?>

“We’ll need to see,” I replied to the cat, seeing one of the teams searching the battlefield pick up a body that immediately began kicking and screaming before abruptly falling silent as one of the members delivered a vicious strike to the jaw. “It’s still too early to tell how—”

“Hey!” A sudden shout interrupted my words, prompting me to turn in the direction of the noise and finding Constantine a short distance away from me, standing among a patch of badly burnt bodies that marked the spot where the mages magic had landed the heaviest. “Come over here a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?” I called back to my friend as both Amaranth and I walked over, taking care where we put our feet. “Find something?”

“See for yourself,” Constantine said in an acidic tone as we pulled up beside him, the rogue delivering a vicious kick towards a burnt body on the ground before him.

“Ugh, ooow! Just fucking kill me already…please…it hurts,” the singed figure whined, the voice sounding incredibly familiar to my ear.

<The Traitor!> Amaranth hissed savagely through our mental link as he let out an angry growl, going as far as to swipe the air just shy of the man’s body with a massive paw.

“Oh, shit,” the man gasped, the body spasming in fear as a single eye opened, instantly shooting upwards to meet mine. “Fuck, figures it would be you that finds me…fucking you…”

“Well, hello, Ignis,” I greeted the charred half-elf lying on the ground, noting just how badly the battle had gone for him. “You’re looking rather…crispy today. Not enough sunscreen maybe?”

“Very funny,” he replied with a wet sounding cough and a whimper of pain. “I don’t suppose you guys would be so good as to kill me, would you? You know, for old times’ sake? I’d do it myself, but…”

“You can’t,” Constantine finished, his voice taking on a note of glee as he spoke.

“Clearly,” Ignis replied, the stump that was his one remaining arm waving uselessly in the air with the other having been burnt completely to ash.

“Looks like you’re in a hard spot, Ignis,” I said, matching Constantine’s tone while being silently grateful for the opportunity that had just fallen into our lap. “What’s your death worth to you?”

“Huh? W-what do you mean?” the charred adventurer asked, his raspy voice breaking.

“If you want a quick death, we’re going to need something in return,” Constantine said. “Like the location of one of Carver’s bases maybe?”

“I think that’s fair,” I agreed, feeling a smile spread across my face. “Unless you want to take your chances with the crows, of course.”

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Ignis grunted painfully before letting out another string of coughing. “Fuck you both, then. I thought you of all people had battlefield honor.”

“You wouldn’t know honor if it shit down your throat, Ignis,” Constantine spat, pausing to kick the man a second time, but thinking better of it. “But I think Lyrian is right. Leaving you for the crows is about what you deserve.”

“S-someone will find me, heal me,” Ignis stammered, his voice taking on a panicked, pleading tone. “D-do you want to risk that?”

“No one is going to be coming for you, Ignis,” I stated, crouching down in front of the man. “We’re making sure of that right now. Just like we’re making sure that this war you and Carver started comes to an end sooner rather than later.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his single eye moving to follow me. “You have to know you can’t beat us. You got lucky today, it-it won’t—aaaah!”

“Be quiet, Ignis,” I told the man in a firm voice, having reached out to grab the man by the charred collar of his armor and yanked him up to a sitting position. “There is something I want you to see before we go. Something that I want you to pass on to Carver.”

“W-what?” Ignis demanded through clenched teeth, pain oozing through his teeth no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“That,” I said to the man, reaching out to turn his head towards where I knew the bulk of Virtus was waiting, all of them standing over a row of bound and hooded adventurers kneeling on the ground.

“What do you want me to see?” Ignis replied in an angry tone, his eye shooting back towards me. “You killing them all before me and leaving me to rot?”

“That’s pretty tempting,” I answered as I released my hold on Ignis’s armor and let him fall heavily back to the ground with a yelp. “But no, I’m not going to kill them.”

“Then what?” Ignis wheezed as I stood back up and rubbed my hands on my armor.

“Isn’t it obvious?” I asked the man rhetorically. “I’m taking them off the board so your side can’t use them anymore.”

I waved for Constantine and Amaranth to follow me as I slowly turned my body away from Ignis.

“I’m taking them as prisoners of war.”

Chapter 2

Aldford

A chorus of loud cheering intermixed with a handful of jeers and venomous words marked our return to Aldford that evening as we paraded our newly captured prisoners through the town’s northern entrance. Their very presence announced the success of the day’s efforts and what it meant for the war effort. Glancing around as we entered the town, I saw that all the townsfolk had stopped working to stare at our arrival—and in almost every case, add their voice to the noise echoing through the air.

<A worthy welcome for the triumphant hunter,> Amaranth’s mental voice echoed through my mind as he walked beside me at the head of the procession. <One could become accustomed to the greeting.>

<You think so?> I replied, feeling a grin cross my face, both at the cat’s words and my own relief on how the day had turned out, the knot I’d been carrying inside my chest for the last day finally relaxing. <Something tells me that any future victories won’t come as easily after today.>

<Perhaps,> Amaranth agreed, his azure eyes glancing up to meet mine with a curious expression. <Yet we have risen to every challenge before us thus far, have we not?>

<That we certainly have,> I answered mentally, taking a second to look over my shoulder and seeing the hooded prisoners of war behind me, all of them being pulled along blindly in a line by the ropes we’d tied to their wrists. A part of me had been concerned that something would go wrong on our route back to Aldford—be it a counterattack by Carver’s forces or something else that would throw a wrench in our plans—but as it turned out, the worst that we had to deal with was the token resistance that any captive exhibited, and one easily fixed by a sharp kick to the rear. Hopefully, they’re just as cooperative in the days to come too.

Letting out a mental grunt at that unlikely turn of events, I returned my attention forward as the noise died off, sparing a glance at the townsfolk, noticing that everyone was already resuming their normal duties, the novelty of the prisoners wearing off in short order. Having grown up in the midst of a multi-decade war, the Eberian townsfolk knew better than to fixate on a single day’s success or failure, knowing that the key to victory was maintaining their focus for the entire duration of the conflict.

Which is exactly what we need if we’re going to have a chance at beating Carver, I thought as we made our way deeper into the town, the majority of the adventurers with us splitting away from the group until only the core group of Virtus remained.

Passing through the bustling core of Aldford, I glanced up at the now-massive ætherwarped oak tree that dominated both the town square as well as the sky above. Having grown to epic proportions over the last week, the magical tree’s branches had spread wide enough to encompass the entirety of the town from above, basking it in a comforting blue glow. Along with its growth was now the aura of magic that hung over the entirety of the town, suffusing everyone and everything with a gentle blanket of mana.

For the non-spellcasters, this simply put an energetic spring in their step that they couldn’t quite place, but nevertheless thoroughly enjoyed the presence of. For the spellcasters within the town on the other hand, myself included, the subtle magic filling the town’s air was a glorious thing, allowing them to replenish their mana supplies in a fraction of the time that it would otherwise take in the wild. Granting a flat regeneration bonus similar to that of what we’d experienced at the open ley line within the Twilight Grove, it was a place that I could somewhat naturally regenerate my mana pool, despite my ætherwarping. Shifting my attention from the tree above as a notification appeared in my combat log, I couldn’t help but smile as I saw that it belonged to the effect in question.

[Aldford’s Aura of Magic] replenishes you for 50 mana points!

It really does make life easier for me here, I thought as I felt the cool breeze of mana surge through me in time with the notification appearing. I now don’t have to go chasing around Halcyon or Caius to restore my mana if I happen to use magic while in town, nor do I have worry too much about overdoing it if I’m training.

Moving with purpose from there, I let my thoughts wander for a short while as our route took us to the other end of town and towards a special building that we’d prepared in anticipation of capturing prisoners today.

A building that the justicar and a group of town guards were conveniently waiting in front of.

“It seems that congratulations are in order,” Dyre greeted us in his typical emotionless tone as he turned his faceless gaze towards us, the only thing visible from under the helmet being a clean-shaven mouth and jaw. “Your mission appears to have been a success.”

“It was,” I replied, offering the justicar a nod, long since having gotten used to his robotic and monotone voice. “In fact, it turned out even better than we had hoped.”

“Excellent,” Dyre stated, his head turning to look towards the captured adventurers behind me. “Are you prepared to relinquish your captives to my custody, where they will be dealt with in accordance with Aldford’s laws?”

“I am,” I answered, hearing a chorus of nervous chatter rise up from those we’d captured.

“Then, on behalf of Aldford, I accept these captives from you and declare them to be prisoners of war,” Dyre announced in an official voice that now carried a previously hidden weight to it. “Now, please remove their hoods so that I may address them appropriately.”

With his proclamation hanging in the air, it took us less than a minute to line up the officially declared prisoners of war in front of the justicar and remove the burlap sacks that we’d covered their heads with. Standing to the side, I watched the captives squint as their eyes adjusted to the sudden light, a variety of expressions appearing on their faces, ranging everywhere from concern to defiance to resignation. Gazing over the prisoners with his unnerving gaze, Dyre waited patiently until the last hood had been removed, then took a step forward, his intimidating presence causing all the adventurers’ eyes to fixate on him.

“You have all been—”

“Hey, why don’t you just shut the fu-urk!” A rude voice almost immediately interrupted the justicar, managing to get a handful of words out before ending in a ragged choking sound.

“Well, that didn’t take long,” a familiar woman’s voice whispered from beside me, prompting a small smile to appear on my face as I looked over towards her.

“What did you expect, Freya?” I asked, seeing a matching smile across the blonde warrior’s expression. “Manners from Carver’s bandits?”

“That’ll be the day,” she replied with a short laugh before shaking her head at the absurd thought.

Turning my attention back towards the prisoners, I saw that Dyre had raised a single hand in the direction of the adventurer that had spoken over him, and the man was now clutching at a golden ring of magic that had appeared around his throat.

“Because you have spoken out of turn, you have lost the privilege to speak for the next three days,” Dyre declared, the nervous chatter that had risen due to the man’s panic abruptly dying off. “I advise you not to test my patience again, else I will not be so lenient.”

Pausing for several seconds to ensure that his words had sunk in, the justicar resumed speaking.

“As I was saying, you have all been declared as prisoners of war in the conflict between the settlement of Aldford and the faction known as ‘The Dread Crew’,” Dyre stated, giving the official, if rather grandiose, name that Carver and his followers referred to themselves as. “As such, in accordance with The Rules of War set down by Mithus, you will all be kept under confinement in this prison behind me until the end of this conflict. Should any of you abuse our hospitality and incite violence during your captivity, you will be dealt in an appropriately harsh manner in accordance with Mithus’s will.”

At the end of Dyre’s statement, I noticed that the eyes of each and every single one of the prisoners suddenly glazed over, no doubt reading a notification that had appeared in their vision. There was a long moment of silence as the justicar waited for the adventurers to read the details of their incarceration, many of their faces paling or growing angry. Having already been told by Dyre what the terms were, I found myself savoring the expressions I saw before me as I recalled the basic highlights of what it meant to be a captive.

Confinement to prison grounds, no private messaging, no forming groups, no violence, I said silently, watching the prisoners’ eyes moving from side to side as they continued to read. And most importantly…impoundment of all equipment and inventory.

“Should you find yourself unable to abide by the terms that have been set before you, or if the burdens of this war have become too great and you wish to fully extricate yourself from these events, I have two other options for you all to consider,” Dyre eventually went on to say, prompting several desperate glances amongst the prisoners-to-be. “Your first option is to agree to remove yourself from this conflict and serve a sentence of ten days in a prison of atonement of Mithus’s choosing, whereupon your release, any transgressions that weigh upon your soul related to this conflict shall be forgiven. Be warned, however, this prison shall not be in Eberia, or anywhere even approximate to this region, but many, many leagues away.”

Dyre allowed another pause to allow the prisoners to process what he’d said and the clean slate that he’d offered them.

“If that option is not to your liking, a second option exists for those who wish to regain their freedom,” he said, his voice steady and calm as he spoke. “A full pardon and a bounty of coin will be granted to any who provide actionable intelligence regarding the Dread Crew, subject to Guildmaster Rastler and Bann Aldwin’s satisfaction.”

This time there was no silence, despite Dyre’s earlier demonstration.

“These choices are all bullshit! You’re trying to back us into a corner!” an enraged male voice called out amongst a chorus of angry and concerned whispering. “We can’t fight back, we can’t send private messages, you’re taking away all of our stuff, and now you’re expecting us to betray our own or run away?!”

“Not really,” I answered loudly, having anticipated some level of resistance once Dyre had presented the prisoners with their options. “At least not today. Possibly not tomorrow either. But after a week, two weeks, or maybe even a month of being here? I have a feeling that a few of you may change your minds.”

“You’re cracked if you think that we’ll spend that long here,” another prisoner growled at me in response, her words angry and venomous. “Soon as Carver finds out you’ve taken us prisoner—”

“He’ll do something about it. I know,” I interrupted, fixing the speaking woman with a knowing smile. “That’s exactly what we’re counting on. Assuming he even bothers to come for any of you at all.”

Scowling at me in response, the woman opened her mouth to no doubt reply with something suitably defiant but wasn’t able to get her words out fast enough before Dyre took over the conversation once more.

“Enough.” The commanding statement sliced through the air, causing all the voices to fall silent, lest the justicar demonstrate more of his power. “The time has come to make a choice. Are there any who want to take advantage of Mithus’s offer and wish to remove themselves from this conflict? I advise you all to choose carefully, as this offer will only be made available once every week.”

“I’ll take it,” a deep voice answered almost the second that Dyre finished speaking. “It’s not in me to become a turncoat, but I’ve had enough of this.”

“Me too,” another adventurer added. “I’m wasting my playtime being involved in this shit, and a change in scenery would be nice. I’m out.”

“Very well, you two may approach,” Dyre replied, signaling for the two adventurers to step out of line and approach him, a brief wave of angry and accusatory whispers echoing out from the other prisoners as they moved. “Any others?”

That’s surprising, I thought silently as we all waited to see if anyone else was interested in joining the pair, but after a few seconds, it was clear that there would be no other takers. I figured it would have taken at least a week before anyone took advantage of that option. Maybe things aren’t as peachy as we thought on Carver’s side?

“Only two, then,” Dyre stated, turning his attention towards the pair of adventurers. “Are you both certain that you wish to proceed with this course of action? There will be no return from this afterward.”

“I’m ready to get as far as possible from here,” the deep-voiced adventurer declared. “The farther the better, if you can arrange it.”

“I second that,” his partner added, turning to look back at the assembled prisoners. “Tell Carver and the others that we quit.”

“Then by Mithus’s will, it shall be done,” Dyre declared, the two adventurers instantly vanishing in a flash of golden light that caused everyone to blink. “Now, as for the rest of you,” the justicar went on to say, his voice maintaining its stoic tone. “You will have an option to exchange information for your freedom in the days to come. For tonight, however, you will be acquainted with your new accommodations and given a chance to come to terms with your captivity.”

With the justicar’s address finished, we all then went about the touchy task of stripping the prisoners of their gear and inventories and getting them settled into their cells. At first, it was slow going in getting the prisoners to cooperate in relinquishing everything they had on them willingly. But after several assurances from Dyre, along with notifications from the game itself, that their belongings would be held for their eventual release, and not simply stolen, things began moving faster.

Of course, that may have also been helped along by an extremely loud roar from Amaranth who had begun to get frustrated with how long it was taking to settle the prisoners.

Regardless of the motivation, however, Dyre and his wardens eventually managed to get all of the adventurers organized and moving into the prison, where they were split up into pairs, each cell having enough room to house two adventurers in reasonable comfort. During our building of the prison, we’d made sure to do our best to provide suitable accommodations for anyone who found themselves in there, knowing that a base level of dignity and comfort would go a long way to ensure compliance.

Content to stay out of the way during this process, I found myself a nice corner to stand in while I reviewed the latest entry that had appeared in my quest log, conveniently summarizing the battle that we’d just fought.

Battle Summary Update! War: The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew

Sunday, April 7th – Battle on The Plains

Outcome: Victorious

Allied Player Casualties: 23

Allied Non-Player Casualties: 0

Enemy Player Casualties: 78

Enemy Non-Player Casualties: 0

Enemy Prisoners Taken: 18

War Assets Destroyed: 3

Rewards:

Glory Points: 324

Experience: 12,400

Leadership Experience: 6,500

There’s little else to make the day better like a battle won, I thought as I looked over the update, my eyes taking in all of the various details that it presented to me.

Having appeared after my declaration of war against Carver and his followers, the war quest and its related summaries had been a frequent sight over the last week as it documented our various clashes and skirmishes. Outlining the results of every battle that we fought, it tracked the overall status and progress of the war between our two respective factions, as well as handing out incremental rewards for each meaningful battle that we fought.

Meaningful being the key word there, I noted as my attention dropped down to the aforementioned reward section, and I noticed just how high all three of the values were compared to some of the previous battles that we’d fought, which had awarded notably less. It seems that taking prisoners was just what we needed to break this stalemate and hopefully buy us some breathing space—

My line of thought cut itself off as a wide yawn threatened to overcome me, a wave of sudden exhaustion following close behind.

“Ugh,” I whispered softly to myself as I dismissed everything from my vision, the day’s, or rather week’s, events rapidly starting to catch up to me now that I’d stopped moving. There’d simply been far too many late nights and early mornings over the last few days, and my body was starting to show its wear. Shaking my head as another yawn hit me, I decided that I’d worry about the battle logs and associated rewards tomorrow when I was feeling more rested to process what I was seeing. Right now, more than anything, all I wanted to do was wrap up the last few loose ends the day still had left in it and take a much-needed break.

“All right, everyone, I think Dyre has our new guests all sorted here,” I said as I called out to the group, noticing full well that I wasn’t the only one looking like they needed a long night’s sleep. “Let’s get our other tasks all sorted out and see if we can’t call it quits for the day. After the week we’ve had, I think we’ve earned a break.”

“Oh, yes, please!” Constantine exclaimed without a second’s hesitation as we all moved to leave the prison, giving the guards a farewell wave as we departed. “I’m dying for a pizza, a few drinks, and a night of being a couch potato.”

“I second all of the above,” Halcyon replied in an enthusiastic tone. “I’m dying for any real food at all right now, and I can barely remember the last time I logged off.”

“Then that makes me third, right?” Drace chimed in, the big man’s voice sounding completely exhausted. “Though I think I’ll be starting off with a nap first before eating anything. I just…can’t anymore right now.”

“Can we set up a video chat too tonight once we’re settled?” Freya asked, hooking her arm around mine as we walked. “It’d be nice to unplug for a little while and have some company.”

“Sounds great to me,” I replied, giving the woman a broad smile, already looking forward to the chance to see her again in reality. “Though before I drop off, I need to fill Aldwin and the others in about the battle and sort out our overnight plan.”

“And I need to check on the guild members too,” Sierra added, prompting a chorus of voices from everyone else about the things that they had to do before they could call it quits. “Also, if we’re having a video chat, should we invite Lazarus, Sawyer, and Ransom tonight too?”

“I have no problem with that,” Constantine replied with a shrug. “But I don’t know if they’ll all come. I’ve noticed that they’ve all been on the verge of burnout lately, Lazarus especially.”

“I can’t blame them,” I said, having noticed the same change in the group’s energy levels over the last week. “They’ve had a rough run of things lately—hell, we all have. I’ll see if I can find them after I’m done with Aldwin and extend an invite.”

“Please do,” Sierra said to me in a firm voice. “But if Lazarus is out for the night, still see if you can invite Ransom and, uh…Sawyer too.”

“Of course,” I promised, hearing a faint snort echo out from Freya beside me as we entered the town square once again. “What’s—”

“Thanks, Lyr,” Sierra replied, moving to grab Freya by her other arm and pull her away from me. “Hey, mind coming with me, Freya? I can get this all sorted out faster with your help.”

“Sure thing,” Freya answered in an amused tone as she let go of my arm and allowed herself to be dragged away by the red-haired elf. “I’m always happy to help.”

“Did I miss something there?” I said in a confused voice, watching the two women leave at almost a run.

“Oh, you missed something, all right,” Constantine replied with a snort. “But if your Perception score isn’t high enough to figure out what just happened, then there’s nothing I can say that’s going to help you.”

“Gee, thanks, Constantine. For a minute there, I thought you were someone helpful,” I grunted, rolling my eyes at the rogue.

“Oh god, whatever made you think that?” he exclaimed in mock offense. “Did you get hit in the head today? Should we take you to Shelia?”

“No, but you still might get hit at this rate,” I retorted, prompting friendly chuckles from everyone still with us as I turned to walk into the town hall. “Anyway, I’ll see you all in an hour or so back in reality. In the meantime, though, Amaranth, would you mind keeping Constantine out of trouble for a little while?”

<Certainly,> Amaranth replied happily, the cat stepping in close to rub himself against the rogue while purring loudly. <He is cunning in his attempts to evade me. I find it greatly amusing.>

“Lyr, come on, I was kidding, please don’t make me run,” Constantine said, his voice suddenly becoming nervous as he took a large step away from the cat. “That’s not fair after a day like today.”

“No,” I corrected with a grin. “Not telling you that Amaranth has already started counting wouldn’t be fair.”

“Oh, shit!” Constantine gasped before bolting away from us, running through the town square in a full sprint, prompting a chorus of laughter to erupt from the group around us.

“Oh, man,” Halcyon said in between laughs. “I love hide and seek featuring Amaranth.”

“Don’t we all?” I agreed, watching the cat’s legs tense as he prepared to chase after the rogue. “Maybe go a little easy on him this—”

Unfortunately, before I could finish my words the cat was already gone.

Chapter 3

A disembodied wave of excited voices greeted me as I entered the town hall, the building packed with a sizable chunk of Aldford’s adventurers in attendance, all of them eating and drinking as they unwound from today’s battle. Walking along the edges of the room, I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast to the room’s energy when compared to breakfast this morning, the mood then having been somber and quiet.

Victory goes a long way to cheer people up, I said mentally, pausing to wave at Huxley and his group who were sitting at a long table with several other Virtus guild members as I walked by, my path taking me towards the stairs leading to Aldwin’s office. I’m sure things aren’t nearly as happy on Carver’s side of things tonight.

Unable to keep myself from smiling at that thought, I felt a wide grin spread across my face as I went on to imagine Ignis telling Carver how he’d managed to lose nearly two dozen adventurers to us today.

Wouldn’t it be nice to be a fly on the wall for that conversation? I thought with a chuckle as I reached the stairs and began to make my way upward, the noise from the common room fading away into a dull roar by the time I reached the top. Seconds later, I was opening the door into a now well-used meeting room, catching someone in the middle of speaking.

“—then we’ll proceed up along the ridge edge looking for stragglers he—Oh, there you are, Lyrian!” a man’s voice announced as I walked into the room. “We were wondering when you’d show up.”

“Well, you know, Cassius. Sorting out a fresh crop of prisoners and introducing them to their new homes tends to slow a person down,” I replied without missing a beat as I entered the room, my eyes spotting Hallowguarde’s guildmaster standing over a large table with Aldwin and Veronia, the three of them having been looking over a large map covered with markers before my arrival.

“No doubt,” the bald-headed Eberian said with a snort. “But serves them right in the end. What was the final count on prisoners in the end?”

“Eighteen captured in total from the battle,” I replied, turning my gaze away from Cassius and onto Aldwin. “And two of them took Dyre’s offer of banishment, and he sent them to a Prison of Atonement elsewhere.”

“Good! As much as their cowardice and the injustice at letting them go pains me, would it be that more of the prisoners took him up on that offer!” Aldwin declared heatedly, a hard expression on his face. “At least then we would be certain that they were far enough removed from us and this war as not to burden us with their care.”

“I think it’s a matter of time before more do so,” I said, knowing exactly where the bann was coming from. We’d done our best to ensure that the prisoners were well contained within the prison we’d built, but the risk for escape was still there, along with the steady drain of resources and manpower that it took to keep them captive. “I am hoping that some of them will consider giving up information about Carver in exchange for freedom. The sooner we can find out where he’s based out of, the sooner we can start pressuring him there on two fronts and hopefully find an end to this war.”

“Hopefully,” Aldwin replied in a doubtful tone. “Yet all my years of experience tell me that we have far more in store for us before we catch even a glimpse at victory. We still must be wary of the orcs that were allied with Carver in the past, for I doubt we have seen the last of them.”

“Yeah…” I agreed with a resigned shrug, that particular point having come up multiple times in the last week. Despite the ferocity of the war so far and the recent stalemate on the plains, we’d seen neither hide nor hair of the orcs that had joined Carver’s ambush at the tower a few weeks earlier, leaving us all to wonder where they’d gone.

Or better yet, where they’d come from in the first place.

“Well, as Lyrian is fond of saying, that’s a future problem for us,” Cassius said before inviting me to look at the map on the table with a wave of his hand. “Right now, though, we need to focus on how we’re going to take advantage of today’s success, and I think we have a good plan laid out here.”

“Hm, let’s see,” I mused as I stepped closer to the table and looked over the battle plan, piecing together what Cassius and the other “night shift” adventurers would be doing.

After all, just because the sun went down for the day didn’t mean that the war was put on hold until morning.

“Given our success today, we are proposing an aggressive strategy for our evening and nighttime efforts,” Veronia informed me as I read over the map. “Morale amongst the enemy ranks will be low after today’s defeat, and tempers are likely to be high as a result. We believe that a committed effort showing our strength against what will likely be a vengeful nighttime force will continue to build upon that.”

“And hopefully hurting their resolve to continue the war,” I added with a nod, having become acquainted with the theory of warfare over the last week, thanks largely in part to a pair of books that I had practically inhaled during my offline hours. “Though…if I’m reading this map right, you want to send out our night groups with the intention to start pushing towards Shadow’s Fall.”

“We do,” Cassius affirmed, meeting my stare without blinking as I glanced upwards. “I know how this looks, considering how badly I of all people want to reclaim the place, but if we’re looking to push the Dread Crew off the plains, it’s no secret that we’re going to have to hit it sooner or later…and raze it to the ground if we can’t recapture it. We can’t afford to let them keep that bind point.”

Knowing how much saying those last words must have pained Cassius, I simply nodded in response before looking back towards the plans for a second time. The entire war between us and Carver had effectively been kicked off with the destruction of Shadow’s Fall, or at least what we had presumed was its destruction. In the week since, we’d managed only once to get a scout close enough to the ruined settlement to report that the Dread Crew had stopped just shy of completely destroying it. Since then they’d worked hard in rebuilding and fortifying the captured settlement, clearly intending to make us fight for it if we wanted to recapture it.

Which would go a long way towards buying us breathing room and letting us control the plains, I thought as I considered the battle plan with a critical eye, unable to see any faults in the logic. Especially if we can take away their bind point and force them to respawn farther away…wherever their other camps and bases are.

“What do you think about this, Fredric?” I asked, looking over towards the bann, who had yet to comment.

“It is a highly aggressive strategy,” he stated, his gaze dropping down towards the map while his hand motioned at a series of smaller camps and sentries that the Dread Crew had set up. “But I believe that it is the correct course given our better than expected success today. As cold as it may be to say, given my comparative…mortality, I see little consequence even if our efforts tonight fail and our nighttime forces are rebuffed. All they will see is us continuing to press them while they are already back on their heels.”

“The perks of being an adventurer,” Cassius said with a shrug. “Live. Fight. Die. Then do it all again and again.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed with a morbid nod, completely sharing in Cassius’s sentiment.

In this last week alone, I’d been killed three times in the various battles and skirmishes on the plains, finding myself respawning back in Aldford with a long walk ahead of me.

“Well, in that case,” I said after a few seconds thought, “I don’t see any reason why we can’t go forward with this plan for the night. Even if things go a bit sideways and you only hit half of these camps, it’ll seriously blind the Dread Crew to our movements come tomorrow morning. Then that’ll give us the momentum to hit the rest and really put them back on their heels.”

“Great!” Cassius exclaimed in a happy voice. “While I don’t think that the Dread Crew will let us take any more prisoners, I’m hoping that we can at least destroy some of their camps and supplies. The less that they have to work with, the better.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I agreed, offering the man a nod. “If we can force them to spend more time worrying about crafting new gear or finding enough food to keep everyone fed, then there’s no doubt in my mind that things will start to snowball for us.”

“Definitely,” Cassius agreed before inclining his head to the door. “Well, if there’s nothing else, I’m going to get going. The sooner I can get everyone moving, the sooner we can put this plan in motion.”

“Sounds good to me, and good luck tonight,” I said, similar sentiments coming from both Aldwin and Veronia, the pair already having worked out any concerns they may have had with Cassius’s plan long before I arrived.

Stepping out of the room with a wave, it didn’t take long for the man to remove himself, his excited footsteps echoing out from the hallway.

“He is certainly eager to live up to your success today, Lyrian,” Aldwin commented, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen after Cassius’s departure. “It was all Veronia and I could do to sway him into a more…restrained course of action tonight.”

“As much as one can call this restrained,” Veronia stated. “Did you know that his original proposal was a nighttime raid against Shadow’s Fall itself? Sheer lunacy, even for an adventurer.”

“He wants his home back,” I said with a sigh, completely unsurprised by everything that Veronia and Aldwin had said. Since the war had begun, Cassius—and his guild by extension—had been among the most driven to fight it, which was saying something, considering all the reasons those of us in Aldford had to hate the man.

Ambushing us at the tower, having Ignis infiltrate our ranks and betray us in the Twilight Grove, along with summoning the shoggoth to rupture the ley line and destroy Aldford, I recited mentally, unable to keep myself from shaking my head at everything that had happened over the course of the last month. It seemed that we’d barely had a chance to catch our breaths before some new crisis or event reared its head and forced us to deal with it.

Then, of course, the war started, and any hope of a break went straight out of the window.

“Perhaps,” Aldwin admitted. “But, despite saying so, I do not believe that he has truly come to terms with the fact that you will likely have to destroy what’s left of his settlement in order to deny it to Carver. You may meet considerable resistance if—when—that time comes.”

“But we can’t afford to alienate him and his guild in the process,” I finished, the thoughts having already crossed my mind as well. “I don’t know what I can do to make him realize that, but I’ll try and keep a closer eye on him tomorrow. Depending on how the Dread Crew react overnight, there’s a good chance we could possibly be raiding Shadow’s Fall by tomorrow evening. It all depends if they try to meet us on the plains again, or if they decide that they don’t want to risk another engagement so soon at all. They could easily pull back and force us to extend ourselves for a siege.”

“We shall have to see,” Aldwin replied with a nod before changing the subject. “Now, tell us about the battle today. How did everything fare?”

“Fairly well, but we had a few surprises today that might have caused things to go differently if we hadn’t been lucky,” I reported, going on to give Veronia and Aldwin the highlights of the day and how an unexpectedly strong flanking force had almost derailed our surprise attack.

“Hm, the reinforced flanks show that they are certainly learning and improving on their tactics,” Veronia mused after I’d finished speaking. “Was there any sighting of Carver during the battle today? Or was there someone else in command?”

“No, not today,” I replied. “And no one else reported seeing him either. In fact, now that I think about it, the one familiar face that I recognized on the field today was Ignis, but that was long after the battle was over.”

“Then that marks at least three days since we’ve last seen him,” Aldwin observed thoughtfully, running his hand through his beard as he spoke. “What is he doing that would distract him from this conflict? One would think that it is a priority for him, yet he is nowhere to be seen. Not even commanding from the rear.”

“Any guess is as good as the next one,” I said, having given the matter plenty of thought over the last few days. “But so far we haven’t seen any sign of him or any of his other followers trying to do something creative, like cross the forest and raid Aldford from the east. Between the scouts we have based out of the Irovian tower and all of the creatures deeper inside the forest, we’ve seen no signs of anyone trying to blaze a path through it.”

“I suppose so,” Aldwin admitted.

“There is the chance that he continues to court the orcs,” Veronia offered, her face narrowing in disgust. “Despite what Cassius says, they cannot be discounted entirely. Especially not after you’ve drawn blood with their tribe.”

“Yeah…” I agreed with a sigh, recalling that Amaranth, Sierra, and Constantine had all managed to kill a pair of Orcs in the ambushing force that had attacked us at the Irovian Tower before they themselves were overwhelmed. “I wish we were able to get a closer eye on what’s happening to the north behind the Dread Crew’s lines or even farther in the forest instead. We know that they have a base somewhere in there too.”

“Likely,” Aldwin agreed before going on to raise his shoulders in a tired shrug. “Regardless, perhaps today’s efforts will be successful in bringing Carver’s attention back to our conflict here and possibly afford us the opportunity to capture him and render his followers leaderless.”

“That would be ideal,” I agreed wistfully, despite having a feeling that Carver would never let himself be taken alive after he learned what happened to his followers today. “But if he doesn’t want to pay attention to the war he’s started and let us take Shadow’s Fall back, I’m not going to complain.”

“True enough,” the bann acknowledged with a grunt. “I am reminded of the phrase an old commander was once fond of: ‘Never interfere with an enemy who is making a mistake’.”

“Definitely not,” I agreed, despite having my own reservations on whether or not Carver was making a mistake at all.

Between the forces scattered between the Hartwyld and the plains, the Dread Crew had completely managed to prevent us from exploring farther northward, which given the presence of the orcs we’d seen, was concerning. Not only were we blind to what was happening there, but we also simply had no way of finding out what their motivations were for attacking us, having been locked into the endless stalemate until today. Hopefully, with a chance to finally push the Dread Crew back, we’d get a better understanding of why exactly they’d decided to wage war on us.

And more importantly, how we could try and stop them.

“Anyway, moving past all of that, how was the day here?” I went on to ask, deciding that it was best to shift the subject as I was starting to get eager to wrap things up and find my way back to reality. “I saw that another section of the palisade was finished today when we got back.”

“Busy as usual,” Aldwin replied, his face showing what had no doubt been an exhausting day on his end of things. “Léandre asked for my assistance in supervising some of the work crews today, and I, unfortunately, didn’t think twice before I agreed.”

“He had you moving all the heavy things, didn’t he?” I asked, feeling a smile creep across my face at the news.

“Massive granite slabs that he quarried just outside of the town,” Aldwin explained with a haunted expression. “Apparently, he needs them to shore up a section of the foundation for the palisade…or at least that is what I thought I heard while I and half a dozen others were attempting to move a piece. Admittedly, my attention was largely focused on not crushing my feet.”

“Of course,” I replied with a chuckle, at first wishing I’d been around to see the bann moving the stone, then abruptly changing my mind when I realized that Léandre would likely have conscripted me to help as well.

“What about you, Veronia?” I asked, looking over towards the woman with a raised eyebrow. “Did you get roped into this too?”

“No, thankfully not,” she replied, a brief smile flashing across her face as she glanced over at Aldwin, then back towards me. “Though I can’t say that my efforts today were any easier. I’ve been attempting to train some of the adventurers and villagers within the town on small unit tactics and maneuvers. Suffice to say that it’s a challenging experience thus far.”

“I can imagine,” I said, knowing full well where Veronia was coming from. Since the war had started, I’d tried my hand at training a handful of groups in Virtus in how to fight more effectively together. Unfortunately, that process had involved more breaking of bad habits that the adventurers had picked up, rather than teaching something useful. Though, with that being said, I wondered how much of Veronia’s demeanor was also affecting her success. Her personality had warmed somewhat since the events within the Twilight Grove, especially to me and Aldwin, but as a whole, she was still fairly cold and standoffish to others.

“Regardless, there have been some encouraging signs of progress that make it a worthy endeavor to continue with,” Veronia said. “We shall see if it bears fruit in the end.”

“I’m sure it will,” I said confidently, managing to get the words out just as a yawn crept up on me. “Ugh, well, I think that’s my body’s way of telling me that I need to wind down for the night. Is there anything else that we need to catch up on? If not, I think I’m going to turn in early.”

“No, no, I think that’s everything, Lyrian,” Aldwin replied, flashing me an understanding smile. “After a busy day like today, I doubt that I am far behind you.”

“I don’t believe that there is anything else either,” Veronia stated. “All that is left to do is wait until morning and see how Cassius and the others fare overnight.”

“Great,” I said, my eyes flashing between the pair. “Then I’m off to find something soft to fall down onto for a while.”

“Good night, Lyrian, and be sure to get what rest you need,” Aldwin said as I gave the pair a farewell wave and turned to walk towards the door. “Something tells me that we will find few opportunities for it in the days to come.”

Chapter 4

Monday, April 8th, 2047 – 5:36 a.m.

Aldford – The Foundry

Good morning! Welcome back to Ascend Online!

The greeting notification was the first thing I saw as I logged back in the following morning, the swirling array of colors that was the login process slowly resolving itself until it finally faded away into the familiar layout that was the foundry. As my vision cleared and my senses restored themselves, I felt a wave of intense heat wash over me, followed by a rapid influx of memories that told me that I’d logged back into my avatar mid-smelt.

Whoa, more like mid-pour! My eyes opened in surprise as the final dregs of the disorienting login process faded away from me, and I realized that I was right in the middle of emptying out a large crucible of molten iron into an ingot mold. Reacting quickly, I tightened my grip on the heavy tool before I could drop it and focused on getting all of the liquid metal into the mold.

“Phew!” I let out a breath of relief several seconds later as I finished my pour and set the crucible back down. “I guess there’s a first time for everything; I’ve never actually logged in mid-craft before.”

Taking the time to regroup after my more-exciting-than-anticipated entrance into the game world, I gave myself a few minutes to calm down and scanned my newly added memories for anything that I’d missed.

Looks like it was a calm night here in-game, I said mentally a few seconds later, a large block of my new memories completely blank from when my avatar was also asleep, followed by nearly an hour of smelting ingots before I had so suddenly interrupted myself. No complaints about that from me.

Last night back in reality had been a relatively quiet affair, with me and our core group enjoying the evening off, celebrating the day’s success by consuming a truly incredible amount of junk food. I’d even managed to find Lazarus and his group before logging off and extended an invite for all of them to join us via video chat, with both Sawyer and Ransom agreeing. Unfortunately, in Lazarus’s case, I’d managed to catch his avatar, the man having already logged off for the night. I’d sent him a text message once I was back in reality as well but to no avail.

Making a mental note to talk to the man if I had the chance today, I turned my attention towards the smelting efforts that my avatar had been engaged in seconds earlier, picking up right where I had left off. As always, there was an endless list of work to be done around Aldford—the majority of which had been shifted in priority thanks to the war we’d found ourselves in. Now, above everything else, the palisade surrounding the town was our most important project, with everyone who had a moment to spare assisting in its construction, be it through labor or crafting.

Unfortunately, with the war taking up so much of my time, I hadn’t been able to contribute as much as I’d wanted to the construction efforts. So, in hopes of remedying that, I’d decided to wake up a little earlier today and smelt as much iron as I could to help Léandre and Jenkins out, hopefully lightening their load in the process. Falling back into an easy rhythm, I filled the crucible with another pile of iron ore from a nearby crate and inserted it back into the smelter. Well experienced with how long it would take the metal to melt, I let my mind drift, using the opportunity to skim over my character sheet and refamiliarize myself with it, taking note of my small skill advancement overnight.

Lyrian Rastler – Level 23 Spellsword

Human Male (Eberian)

Statistics:

HP: 1548/1548

Stamina: 1395/1395

Mana: 1693/1693

Experience to Next Level: 35240/54500

Renown: 7110

Attributes:

Strength: 78 (103)

Agility: 68 (95)

Constitution: 81 (85)

Intelligence: 99 (103)

Willpower: 28 (31)

Skills:

Magic:

Evocation – Level 23 – 87%

Alteration – Level 23 – 97%

Conjuration – Level 23 – 41%

Abjuration – Level 23 – 32%

Weapons:

Unarmed Combat – Level 23 – 34%

Swords – Level 23 – 91%

Axes – Level 11 – 35%

Daggers – Level 22 – 93%

Other:

Stealth – Level 22 – 75%

Wordplay – Level 21 – 46%

Perception – Level 23 – 89%

Tradeskills:

Blacksmithing – Level 22 – 72% – (Increased 5% while offline!)

Carpentry – Level 21 – 49%

Cartography – Level 2 – 3%

Tailoring - Level 18 – 49%

Cooking – Level 5 – 54%

Herbalism – Level 11 – 4%

Leatherworking – Level 22 – 68%

Mining – Level 16 – 1%

Spells:

Flare

Light

Blink Step

Shocking Touch

Lesser Shielding

Flame Dagger

Jump

Alacrity

Leadership Skills:

Health Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Mana Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Stamina Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Enhanced Movement +7%. Rank: 7/10

Improved Health: +0%. Rank: 0/5

Improved Mana: +0% Rank: 0/5

Improved Stamina: +0% Rank: 0/5

Improved Leadership I. Rank: 1/1

PvP Stats:

Glory Points: 472

Ranked Duel Statistics:

Current Title: Novice

Regional Rank: 4

Global Rank: 700,342

Personal Rating: 1701

Wins: 14

Losses: 3

Draws: 0

PvP Skills:

Increased Health – Increase total health by 1%. 2/5

Increased Stamina – Increase total stamina by 0.5%. 0/5

Increased Mana – Increase total mana by 0.5%. 0/5

Not that bad for an hour’s work, I thought as I read the tradeskill section of the sheet, appreciating the small progress that I’d made in blacksmithing while offline. Thanks to the war, I was quite a bit further behind than I wanted to be when it came to progressing in my tradeskills, having barely had the time to devote to improving my skills on that front. Maybe depending on how today goes, I’ll catch a break for a couple days and just spend it here crafting and building things, instead of spending it all on the frontlines.

Feeling a wistful hopefulness at that thought, I returned to scanning over my character sheet, my attention focusing on both the leadership and PvP sections, seeing the steady progress that I’d made on both fronts. Thanks to the war, getting both leadership experience and glory points had become notably easier than it had been before, each battle and skirmish I fought giving me a steady progression in both.

Which reminds me, I thought, recalling the battle summary that I’d seen yesterday, I should have enough glory points to buy two more skills now. Oh, and it looks like I managed to get another leadership skill point too.

Busying myself for a few moments, I assigned my pending points into Enhanced Movement and Increased Health, bringing the two abilities to eight and four across the two respective skill sections. In the case of the latter, buying the two ranks ended up costing me four-hundred glory points in exchange for another one percent increase in health. While the boost was minor in the grand scheme of things, it still added up the more ranks that I purchased, giving me a much-needed edge the more points that I invested into it.

“An edge that I hope will be enough in the days to come,” I said shaking my head to banish that train of thought before it could lead me down a mental rabbit hole of anxiety that I’d be better off avoiding.

<Hrm? Are you talking to me?> Amaranth’s sleepy voice suddenly flowed into my mind as I finished speaking to myself, causing me to flinch in surprise until I realized that the cat was also in the foundry. Turning away from the smelter, I glanced in the direction that I sensed the cat, seeing that he’d nestled himself up against a low-burning forge across the room for warmth.

“Ah, sorry, Amaranth, I didn’t realize you were there,” I replied, seeing the cat let out a massive yawn before uncoiling himself and stretching in typical feline fashion. “I’m just talking to myself this morning, nothing important.”

<Hrm, very loudly too,> Amaranth grunted at me in response before slowly making his way over towards me, his eyes still somewhat glazed over from his interrupted sleep.

“Hey, don’t blame me, I thought I was alone,” I said to the cat, reaching out to scratch him behind the ear as he came to a stop beside me and sat down. “You usually don’t hang out in here if you can help it.”

<It began to rain outside overnight,> my familiar replied as he let out a second and even bigger yawn than the first, giving me a perfect view of his mouth and teeth. <And I wanted someplace warmer to dry off and sleep.>

“Ah, bad luck there,” I told Amaranth. “The foundry is rarely this quiet, even this early in the morning.”

<Quieter than the town hall,> he replied, leaning into my fingers as I continued to scratch his head. <I would have returned there, yet many were still awake, shouting and talking about the battle…>

The ætherwarped puma paused to shake his head, revealing one of the many human habits he’d begun to mimic in recent days.

“So, you ended up here,” I finished, receiving an acknowledging chuff from the cat in response. “Well, I have a fair bit of work ahead of me before we head out today, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep it down, but if you’re interested in helping, I could use a hand—er, paw in your case, I guess.”

<Oh?> Amaranth prompted me, his sleepy eyes rapidly clearing and widening in curiosity. <What do you need help with?>

“I need those molds over there,” I replied, motioning towards a rolling table that had several of the items stacked on top of it. “Along with a hammer and a few other tools. The metal here in the crucible should just about be melted by now.”

Barely waiting for me to finish, Amaranth wasted no time in trotting across the room towards the wheeled table that I’d indicated, using his shoulder to push it to me. A few seconds later, he was holding my requested hammer in his mouth while watching me fill several of the molds with molten iron.

<Will this become the shiny metal that the merchants take?> Amaranth asked as I refilled the crucible with another round of ore and began the process anew.

“This? No. This is iron—a different type of metal that we will likely use for the palisade that we are building around Aldford,” I explained to my familiar, taking the hammer from him and turning towards the molds that had already had a chance to cool. “Depending on what Léandre needs, we might then turn it into nails, brackets, tools, or whatever else that we’re short on. Or failing that, we’ll use it for weapons and armor.”

<Could you not do the same with the other metal?> my familiar asked without missing a beat. <It seems more useful if merchants would take it as well as it being crafted into something else.>

“Well, it’s not quite as easy as that,” I replied, no longer surprised by Amaranth’s insight. “The metal you’re talking about, silver, is harder to find than iron is, so that makes it more valuable. But it also isn’t as well suited to make things like that because it’s softer and loses shape easier if it’s hit or bent.”

<Softer?> the cat queried with confusion. <Like the burning water it is now?>

“Uh, not exactly,” I said before doing my best to try and explain the differences between different types of metal and why certain kinds were more valuable for certain uses as opposed to others. Of course, each answer that I supplied to the cat quickly branched into even more questions, causing the next hour to fly by in almost the blink of an eye, until the sound of the foundry doors swinging open interrupted Amaranth’s latest line of questioning.

<Then where does—> My familiar’s words cut off mid-sentence as he twisted his head around towards the sound of the opening door, which was replaced by several talking voices.

“Of course, Lyrian’s already beat us to working this morning,” Jenkins’s familiar voice called out, prompting a chorus of chuckles from amongst the new arrivals. “Assuming he even stopped working in the first place.”

“Does anyone around here?” I asked rhetorically, adding my own chuckle to the mix as I finished pouring yet another round of ingots before turning around in the direction of the voices and seeing the aforementioned smith, along with Ritt, Léandre, and a familiar dwarf that I’d seen much of over the last week named Dunedin. “Good morning, everyone.”

Ever since finding a massive vein of iron in the Twilight Grove the other week, Dunedin and his friends having become our go-to source for all our resource needs. Working tirelessly, day after day, the group had done their best to keep Aldford’s construction needs met while those of us more martially inclined focused on the war on the plains with the Dread Crew.

“Good morning, Lyrian,” Léandre greeted in response as he and others made their way towards me, the elder craftsman’s eyes drifting to my completed stack of ingots. “I see you’ve already made a head start to the day.”

“Just trying to keep on top of things while I have the time,” I replied, matching the Tul’Shar’s smile with my own. “Unfortunately, I’ve been a little distracted lately and haven’t felt like I’ve been helping as much.”

“Ah, yes, the war,” Léandre commented, waving a hand dismissively as he moved past me and began peering into several crates stacked against the wall. “Trivial nonsense, of course. I’m certain it’ll blow over before long.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I replied, feeling the smile on my face widen at the exchange. “So, what brings you guys here this early?”

“Taking inventory,” Jenkins said, inclining his head towards the dwarf beside him. “We’re just trying to figure out what our supply situation is.”

“We’re doing reasonably okay, I think,” I supplied, knowing fair well that the answer wasn’t exactly helpful, but with how much of my focus had been devoted to the war, I’d also found myself further out of the loop than usual.

“Yeaaah, we’re going to need a firmer number than ‘okay’,” Ritt commented dryly, the young merchant appearing just about back to normal since his injury in the Twilight Grove that cost him his hand and forearm. “Especially with how fast the palisade is going up. If we run into any unexpected shortages, construction will grind to a halt, and we can’t afford that.”

“No, I suppose not,” I agreed, glancing in Léandre’s direction as the sound of a heavy crate closing filled the air, followed by the man moving to rejoin our circle. “I know I’ll feel a whole lot better once we have it finished.”

“You and about everyone else in Aldford,” Jenkins grunted as our attention shifted over to Léandre. “Well, how are we doing?”

“Well enough,” Léandre said slowly as he considered the question. “Thanks to Lyrian’s help in smelting, we have enough refined iron to last us the day, and enough ore to perhaps take us through tomorrow as well.”

“And with half the palisade still left to build, you’re going to need more still,” Dunedin stated, crossing his thickly muscled arms. “A lot more.”

“Indeed,” Léandre answered without missing a beat. “I’m thinking that we’ll need at least five hundred pieces of iron to last us the week, and if possible, additional copper and tin would be much appreciated as well, say…about two hundred of each?”

“I think we can manage that,” Dunedin replied. “Though not all at once. We’ll have to stagger the shipments day by day unless you’re willing to cut back on the wood you need. Split up, my crew and I can only log or mine so much at a time.”

“I understand,” Léandre said with a shake of his head. “But I’m afraid we need ample quantities of each and can’t afford to sacrifice one over the other. Whatever you can supply will have to suffice and we shall work with what we have.”

“I understand, and I’ll do my best to meet the demand,” Dunedin acknowledged, nodding at the Tul’Shar before turning his attention over towards me with a thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t suppose, Lyrian, that you can spare any bodies from one of your battlegroups? I’m thinking if we could get a few more crews out logging, maybe we can try to fill our wood quota first, then my group can focus exclusively on the metals afterward.”

“Hm,” I replied, considering the dwarf’s request. “Maybe? I might be able to spare a few if there are any volunteers, but long term…it’s really going to depend on how the next couple days go. If all goes well, we’re looking to be pushing towards Shadow’s Fall today.”

“I’ll take whatever help you can offer,” Dunedin said graciously. “And best of luck for advancing on Shadow’s Fall. It would be great to finally put those bastards in their place! God, I wish I had another shot at Ignis so I could pop him right in his traitorous mouth. Had I known back then in the town hall all those weeks ago…”

“I daresay all of us would have,” Jenkins stated in a savage tone as his hand went up to straighten the eyepatch that was covering his eye. “If not worse.”

“Valid thoughts of vengeance aside for the moment,” Ritt said, waving the stump of his arm in the air to regain control of the conversation, “we do actually have something exciting to show Lyrian for a change!”

“That’s right!” Jenkins exclaimed, the anger in his voice vanishing instantly, replaced by excitement as a wide grin broke out on his face. “I almost forgot!”

“Oh?” I asked, suddenly curious. “What is it?”

“You’ll see,” Ritt replied coyly. “Hold out your hand.”

“Uh, okay,” I said, following the merchant’s instructions, seeing him reach out and place something shiny in the center of my palm.

“It’s the first coin out of Aldford’s, or well, I guess technically Virtus’s, new mint,” Ritt explained. “We figured you should be the one to have it.”

“The first coin?” I repeated in a dumbfounded voice as I stared blankly at the man, then towards the small silver disk sitting in my palm.

Stamped with a ridged edge, the silver coin was completely circular in shape, its freshly minted state bearing no signs of wear or imperfections. Emblazoned in the very center of it was a large and stylized ‘V’ along with three words written around its edges: ‘Courage – Valor – Glory’. Feeling my eyes widen as I read the words, I stared at them for several seconds before I turned the coin over in my hand, which revealed a stamped silhouette of the ætherwarped oak tree with a second inscription: “Aldford – 41 A.L.”

“So, what do you think, Lyrian?” Ritt asked eagerly, pulling me back into the moment.

“It’s perfect,” I replied as I flipped over the coin once again and looked at the other side still a little stunned about what I was holding in my hand. “I absolutely love it!”

“That’s great!” Ritt exclaimed excitedly. “We weren’t sure about adding the ‘A.L’ bit, but everyone from Eberia knows that it means ‘after landing’, and it helps link our two currencies together, just in case our two economies ever connect. It’ll go a long way toward making sure that our coins are recognized since the only difference will be regional.”

“That makes sense to me,” I said, offering Ritt a nod before bending down to show Amaranth the coin, earning a purr from the giant cat as he recognized the shiny metal. “Thanks so much for this, everyone!”

“No problem, Lyrian,” Jenkins replied with a smile. “We only have a small production run set up for the mint right now, so it’s still going to take some time for us to scale up, but we’ll get there eventually. I’m thinking maybe in another two weeks we’ll have enough coins that we can start feeding them into the town’s economy.”

“Which, with any luck, should head off our currency problems before they have a chance to get too serious,” Ritt added, a faint twinge of nervousness audible in his voice. “Constantine volunteered to help with the whole process once the time comes, so hopefully it all goes smoothly.”

“That sounds great to me,” I said with a nod, knowing that with Constantine’s background in economics he’d make sure that the new coinage didn’t end up causing rampant inflation or any other issues when the supply of available money in Aldford increased. “And I’m sure he’ll do a great job helping.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Ritt said wistfully. “The words ‘Constantine’ and ‘help’ don’t usually end up in the same sentence.”

“Usually,” I agreed. “But if he starts being a pain, just say the words ‘hide and seek’, and he should fall into line.”

“Hide and—wait, does that have anything to do with Amaranth chasing Constantine through Aldford yesterday and a few days ago?” Jenkins asked, prompting my familiar to let out a pleased chuff.

“Maybe?” I replied with a wide smile, reaching down to scratch Amaranth behind the ear.

“Ha!” Jenkins barked. “That is a brilliant idea! I know a few assistants that could use the same sort of treatment. Maybe—”

“Erm, as amusing as it may be to torment Constantine or lazy workers with an ætherwarped puma,” Léandre said, interrupting Jenkins with a loud clearing of his throat followed by clapping his hands together, “we do have a schedule to keep, and I still have to forge materials for all of today’s construction needs. Plus, I believe you were going to help me with nails today, Jenkins?”

“Ugh…yeah, I guess we should get to it,” the smith said with a resigned sigh. “At least the iron is ready. By the way, thanks for that, Lyrian. Making nails is a pain in the ass as it is, let alone dealing with the smelting as well.”

“Happy to help, Jenkins,” I said, waving goodbye to both him and Léandre as the pair moved to get to work, prompting Ritt, Dunedin, Amaranth, and I to make our way towards the foundry door. “Let’s see if we can find any volunteers to help you out for the day today, Dunedin. Sierra and the others should be awake and getting ready to move.”

“Thanks, Lyrian, we’ll appreciate any help you can spare,” the dwarf replied. “I know you all have your hands full fighting and keeping the town safe.”

“No worries, Dunedin, we’ll make it work,” I said confidently, my mind shifting out of the early morning calm that I had enjoyed with Amaranth and preparing itself for the day to come.

It was time to go back to war.

Chapter 5

The Plains

“Everyone from here reported a quiet night, Lyr,” Sierra said as she joined Freya and I standing just outside the encampment that we’d built on the edge of the plains. “No news from Cassius and the others overnight though.”

“Really? Nothing at all?” Freya asked, her voice sounding surprised. “Not even from any of the respawns overnight?”

“That’s just it,” Sierra replied with a shake of her head. “There apparently weren’t any respawns overnight.”

“Huh,” Freya grunted thoughtfully. “Must have really been a quiet night if that’s the case. I don’t think we’ve had a zero-death night since this whole shitshow began.”

“We knew that taking prisoners yesterday would strike a chord,” I reminded the pair, taking my eyes off the plains and twisting around to look towards them. “I guess we can get an impression of which way the Crew jumped after they realized what happened.”

“Way the hell back,” Freya said with a grin.

“Seems like,” I agreed, matching Freya’s smile before shifting my eyes onto Sierra. “Besides, if there was a problem overnight, Cassius would have just dropped a message in the group chat we set up offline. There was nothing there this morning when I checked.”

“That’s true,” Sierra admitted, her gaze wandering towards the plains behind me. “Maybe that means we’ll be lucky enough for a quiet day too.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I replied, sensing the undertones of exhaustion that filled Sierra’s last words despite our early night yesterday.

We just need to make it to Wednesday and then we can have a full day to recharge, rather than just an evening, I thought, wistfully looking forward to our first rest day since the war began. As efficient as the game was in managing our mental state, it did little to soothe all the fatigue caused by the near constant combat and stress over the last the few weeks. That was something only real rest could cure.

“In any case, the day awaits,” I said, my eyes briefly glancing over the encampment, which we had named Valor’s Point and was our first major line of defense against any attempt by the Dread Crew to push us out of the plains.

Set on top of a high hill that overlooked the plains ahead, the base had been built on a strategic chokepoint that connected the plains along with that of the immediate Aldford area. Anyone looking to make the trek from one location to the other essentially had to pass through the spot or be forced to detour down into Crater Lake and take a much longer and rougher path through its forest. As such, it was the perfect spot for us to fortify to ensure that if a catastrophe on the plains occurred and our entire line of battle was wiped out, the Dread Crew wouldn’t simply be able to sprint towards Aldford.

So that was exactly what we did, choosing to base our defense on the ancient model of a hillfort, and shaping the land itself to our advantage.

Consisting of three rows of deeply dug trenches filled with tribuli and other surprises, anyone looking to assault Valor’s Point would be first forced to cross the wide no-man’s land before it, while enduring a near-constant barrage of ranged magic and projectiles. Then, should the attackers somehow manage to survive that approach, they would find themselves in an uphill battle against several lines of dug-in defenders waiting for them. From there, the attackers would have to push their way upwards along the artificially shaped hill while the defenders retreated backward to specially prepared positions, stretching them out even farther as they fought for every inch.

While not completely perfect, it was the best line of the defense that we could manage given both our material and manpower constraints, while also providing us with a base of operations closer to the front line. In fact, if our luck held for three more days, we were hoping to secure the place as a bind point directly on the front lines, the game rules requiring a place to be secured against monsters for seven days before the option became available.

“That it does,” Freya agreed, both her and Sierra following my gaze as we looked over the base for a few seconds before turning away to the raid, which had been waiting patiently for us to return. “Let’s see if we can’t get buffs sorted out quickly today for a change.”

“Ugh, I almost forgot about that,” Sierra grumbled in a frustrated tone. “Let’s just cap it at ten minutes. If they can’t get sorted by then, they’re out of luck.”

“Whatever you think works best,” I replied, letting out a low chuckle. No matter how much time passed or how much games evolved there were few gaming axioms that ever changed, slow raid buffing being chief amongst them. “Feel free to light a fire under the slow movers however you like.”

“Oh, I will,” Sierra promised as the three of us rejoined the raid, both her and Freya calling for everyone’s attention as they launched into the task of getting everyone organized and ready to move. Fortunately for us, however, it seemed that all the adventurers within the raid today were especially motivated, and everyone launched into action without delay. As a result, it was just a few minutes later that I was skimming over the rapid array of notifications that appeared in my vision as a group of spellcasters passed by me.

Theia casts [Inner Fire] on you!

You gain +50 hit points, +30 to armor, and +2 to Health Regeneration for the next 3 hours!

Alistair casts [Blessing of Courage] on you!

You gain +5 to Strength, Agility, and Constitution for the next 3 hours!

Hadrian casts [Spirit of the Wild] on you!

Your maximum movement speed is increased by 20% and Stamina exhaustion from running is reduced by 35% for the next 3 hours!

“I know I say this every day,” Constantine said as the trio of spellcasters continued to the next group of adventurers, “but damn if Spirit of the Wild isn’t the best thing ever? I never realize how much I miss this buff until I have it again.”

“Don’t we all?” I asked, sharing the rogue’s sentiment completely as I turned back towards the raid. The desperately needed travel spell had become an instant hit as soon as the first druids and shamans had learned it at level twenty, and it was now easily the most sought-after buff in Aldford. Its key benefit was allowing whoever was enhanced by the spell to reach higher speeds while running and also aiding them in keeping up that pace over a long period of time. “How is everyone looking so far this morning?”

“Pretty good,” Constantine answered without missing a beat. “Morale seems great so far, and everyone is doubly excited we don’t have to worry about it raining on us today.”

“Small blessing for sure,” I said, glancing briefly towards the morning sky, which was still somewhat overcast but showed signs of clearing into a cloudless day by the time the sun fully rose. “Chances are we have a long way to go today, and the less mud that there is trudge through, the better.”

“Amen there, man,” Constantine replied just as Sierra, Freya, and Amaranth arrived, the pair having picked up my familiar during their circuit of the raid.

“Looks like we’re good to go, Lyr,” Sierra said glancing down at Amaranth as he fell in beside me, rubbing his head on my leg by way of greeting. “Everyone’s buffed and eager to get moving.”

“Great!” I exclaimed happily. “Want to do the honors of kicking things off?”

“Always,” she replied, reaching up to grab a wooden whistle that was hanging from a cord around her neck and using it to sound three sharp notes.

Then just like that, we were off.

Breaking into a steady jog, the entire raid began to move, rapidly achieving a speed that would have made any infantry commander back in reality green with envy. Aided by both Spirit of the Wild and the movement bonus from my leadership skill, we were able to maintain that pace for hours, the plains blurring past us as we ran. Had we been able to afford mounts for everyone, our pace would have only been increased further.

One day, I thought wistfully as I ran, my eyes roaming ahead as we moved across the countryside. Lush and mostly untouched, I took the opportunity to bask in the verdant grassland around us, the war and fighting not yet having stretched this far to damage the landscape like it had deeper into the plains. However, with the demanding pace that we’d set, it didn’t take long for us to outrun the greenery and begin to see the signs of damage that our brief war had wrought, the grasses eventually fading away into damp ash and dirt.

“Whoa, there sure is a lot of them today,” Constantine called out from beside me two hours later as both his voice and a sharp whistle cut through the air, bringing me out of the floating runner’s high that had taken over my mind.

“Hm?” I grunted back, my brain taking a few extra seconds to reengage and for me to realize that we’d already arrived at the site of yesterday’s battle, the first rest stop on our journey to catch up with Cassius. Slowing my pace as we gradually came to a stop, I heard several voices behind me sound out in relief, grateful for the break.

It was only then that I finally caught onto what Constantine had said.

“Oh,” I breathed, taking in a deep breath to soothe my lungs as I laid eyes on yesterday’s battlefield a short distance ahead of us, seeing a sea of crows scattered throughout the blood-soaked grounds.

<Filthy scavengers.> Amaranth spat through our mental link as if it were a curse word. <Too lazy to hunt for their own kills.>

“‘Oh’ is right,” Sierra said from my right, oblivious to Amaranth’s words as we all took in the field of crows. “This has to be the most we’ve seen yet.”

“I guess it makes sense when you consider yesterday,” I replied. “That was easily the biggest battle we’ve fought so far when it comes to the body count.”

“Hrm,” Sierra agreed with a grunt, unable to completely hide her unease at all of the birds.

Over the last week, the crows had become a familiar presence on the plains, appearing like clockwork every morning, marking the spots where groups of adventurers had died the day before. Their numbers always seeming to vary depending on the size of the previous day’s body count, ranging from a handful for the smaller battles we’d fought, to two or three dozen for the larger and bloodier ones.

At least, until today.

Now, there were at least a hundred of the corvids marking the battlefield, so far not having shown any reaction to our arrival, continuing to peck at the ground while hopping from place to place.

“I wonder if Ignis made it through the night,” I said, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen, remembering that we’d left the man to the elements the previous night. “Anyone up for a walk around?”

“Pass,” Sierra said, shaking her head at my question. “Those crows creep me out enough as it is. I’m staying right here.”

“Me too,” Freya added. “We need to get another round of buffs organized before we go, else we’ll be stopping again in an hour.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” I agreed before glancing towards Constantine, raising a single eyebrow in question.

“Me? Miss a chance to see Ignis suffering?” the rogue asked as my gaze landed on him. “Let’s go pay our respects if he’s still there.”

Giving the women a wave as we departed, Constantine, Amaranth, and I stepped away from the raid and headed deeper into the battlefield, scanning for the spot where we’d left the traitorous adventurer. All of the other bodies that we’d left the night before had long since dissipated, the only thing remaining from yesterday’s battle being the broken fragments of weapons and armor that had refused to vanish with their owners.

“See him, Lyr?” Constantine asked me as we walked through the torn-up landscape a short while later, the crows making indignant cawing noises as they hopped away from our path, giving us, or more likely, Amaranth, a wide berth.

“Not yet,” I replied, slowly turning my head as I scanned the area, finding only the crows staring back at me warily. “Starting to think that something got him.”

“What a shame,” Constantine grunted in response, his tone indicating the exact opposite. “Not that I really figured he had a chance out here.”

“Me either,” I replied while looking out over the field of crows once more for any sign of the traitorous adventurer or anything else of interest but finding nothing to catch my eye. “Might as well keep pressing on then. I’m curious to see just where exactly Cassius and the others have managed to end up.”

Returning to the raid, the three of us rebuffed ourselves and helped organize the guild to move again, resuming our journey across the plains in short order, the ash-covered landscape blurring past us once more.

Damn, how far did Cassius and the others manage to push? I wondered for what had to be the hundredth time nearly three hours later as we continued to jog across the empty plains, not having seen any sign of either the Dread Crew or our nighttime scouts. I figured we would have seen at least a handful of returning scouts by now. They have to be dead on their feet with exhaustion if they’re out this late.

Having given in to my curiosity, or perhaps more aptly named paranoia, after our second rest break, I had ordered the raid to slow down as we moved while also spreading out into a wider skirmishing formation. It allowed us to keep a better eye on our surroundings as we moved, as well as react faster in case we spotted anything of interest. But yet, despite all of that, we simply continued to make steady progress, eventually passing through the rough battlefield that marked the area where the majority of our fighting had taken place over the last week.

<None have passed through here recently,> Amaranth told me after I had posed the question if he smelled anything of interest nearby. <But it is unlikely that the others would have followed the exact same path as us. I would have to roam the area in search of a scent, assuming it has not been washed away by the rains this morning.>

<Don’t worry about it,> I replied to the cat, glancing down at him briefly by my side as we jogged together. <We’ll keep pushing forward straight until we hit one of their camps coming up ahead, then—>

Two shrill whistles interrupted my thoughts, the sound coming from directly ahead of me.

“That’s from Myr and the others,” I said to my familiar with sudden excitement, bringing a hand up to shield my eyes from the sun’s glare as I peered into the distance. In addition to spreading the raid out as we ran, I’d also sent several groups of our own scouts out ahead of us and to the flanks, just to make sure we didn’t accidentally run into something hostile lying in wait.

A situation which I immediately knew wasn’t the case at the moment, the two short whistles signaling that the group had found something friendly. Had it been a single note, it’d have meant that they’d run into something hostile and were likely under attack. Seconds later, I heard a series of other whistles break out throughout the raid as Sierra and the others signaled it to a stop, no doubt as eager as I was to hear what news the scouts had for us.

Keeping our pace, Amaranth and I, on the other hand, didn’t bother to slow down with the rest of the raid, choosing to close the distance between us and the group ahead, trusting that the others would catch up when they could. Moving with purpose, it didn’t take me long to spot several moving silhouettes in the distance, the leading pair of which I identified as Myr and Cadmus, with the trailing figures being none other than Kilgore and a quartet of Hallowguarde scouts.

“Look who we finally found,” Cadmus announced by way of greeting as Amaranth and I slowed to a stop in front of the group.

“More like found us,” Myr grumbled as she glanced rather pointedly towards the new arrivals. “And almost feathered us full of new holes in the process.”

“We were…startled,” a tired-looking Kilgore said by way of explanation. “It’s been a rather strange night all around on our end of things. We’re all a little high strung.”

“Seems like there’s a lot of that going around today,” I said dryly, my eyes scanning over all of the scouts and noticing that they were all covered in dirt, dust, and oddly enough, soot. “Where are the others? Are they following behind you?”

“No,” Kilgore replied with a shake of his head, pausing for a few seconds as Freya, Constantine, and Sierra finally joined us. “They stayed behind. Cassius sent me and the others back to find you and fill you in.”

“Stayed behind?” Constantine asked warily. “Stayed behind where? You guys have been up all night.”

“Shadow’s Fall,” Kilgore answered in a low voice as he looked at us with a blank expression. “It seems that after our day yesterday, the Dread Crew decided to abandon it completely.”

The man paused for a second, allowing us a chance to process what he had said before continuing, his face falling as he spoke.

“And burned the place to the ground behind them.”

Chapter 6

“I think it’s probably best if you started from the beginning so everyone can hear it this time,” I said as we rejoined the raid, still feeling a little stunned by what I’d just heard despite having had a few minutes to process it.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Constantine agreed as the other core members of Virtus fanned out around us, curious expressions written across each of their faces.

“Start what from the beginning?” Drace asked in an uncertain tone. “Did…something happen last night to Cassius?”

“No, not to Cassius,” Kilgore replied shaking his head. “But rather, to Shadow’s Fall.”

“Shadow’s Fall?” Sierra queried. “You guys made it that far last night?”

“We did,” the tired elf affirmed, taking a deep breath as he prepared to retell his story once more. “Though that in itself is a bit of a tale to tell because at first, our night started without any problems. We left Aldford last night on time and moved quickly until we reached the plains here and checked in with Valor’s Point. Then, after a brief stay to regroup, we set out, making a wide line eastward along the forest’s ridge before angling back towards the sentry camps we planned to hit.”

There were several nods around the circle as everyone followed the elf’s explanation, the man pausing briefly to collect his thoughts.

“We made it about four hours out, without seeing anyone, not even a scout,” Kilgore said, picking up with his explanation, his exhaustion clear in his voice. “It was at that point where we started to feel that something was a bit off but chalked it up to the Dread Crew being a bit gun shy after you guys kicked their asses. That idea vanished when we reached the first camp that we’d planned to hit. It was completely abandoned and burnt to ash.”

“Shit,” Sierra cursed. “What happened?”

“We don’t know,” Kilgore replied with a shake of his head. “We searched through what was left of the camp and didn’t find anything left behind. Based on the embers though, my guess was that the fire had been started hours earlier, long before we even left Aldford last night. It had long since burnt out by the time we got there.”

“We figured there’d be some level of panic once word got out that we were taking prisoners,” Drace commented as he considered what the scout had said. “Did they just pull back and burn what they couldn’t take?”

“That’s what we think,” Kilgore said with a nod. “Anyway, we poked around the area for a little while before continuing on with the night’s plan. But we’d barely made it another hour before we caught sight of a wildfire straight ahead of us, eating through the grass like it was nothing.”

“Damn,” Sierra whispered as a wince passed through the circle, each of us having experienced one of those firsthand in the early days of the war. It was one thing to fight against creatures or other adventurers, but against something as fast-moving and hot as a wildfire? There was only one realistic option.

Get out of its way.

“At that point, we were forced to evade the flames,” Kilgore said, continuing from where he’d left off. “It hadn’t started to rain by that point in the night yet, and there was no way we could stop the thing, so we took shelter near the eastern river that flows into the forest until it passed by us.”

The elf paused for a moment to shake his head at the memory.

“It took us a bit of moving to get towards it before the fire did, but we did and managed to wait the flames out by the bank for nearly an hour until the fires had burnt down enough for us to retrace its path. Cassius wanted to see if we could find what had caused the fire in the first place.”

“And?” Halcyon prompted, his tone already signaling that he wasn’t going to like what was coming next.

“It took us some time to find its source, the charred grassland making it difficult to pick out in the ash, but it was another sentry camp that had also been abandoned,” Kilgore replied. “When we did though, it was pretty much the same scene as the first camp just on a larger scale. The only difference being that this time the fire had a chance to spread out of control.”

“Huh,” Freya grunted. “Carver and his group have a rather literal understanding of scorched earth tactics.”

“It sure seems like it,” Kilgore agreed with a tired chuckle. “But that set the tone for the night, with us hitting every single camp on our list and finding each of them abandoned and razed. At least until the sun started to rise and the nighttime rain tapered off.”

“Oh?” Sierra asked with mixed eagerness and trepidation. “What else did you find?”

“Smoke,” Kilgore stated, his eyes moving to look over to her. “Coming from the direction of Shadow’s Fall.”

There was a long, pregnant pause as the others all processed Kilgore’s statement, each of them glancing between one another and then to me, looking for an answer.

“They abandoned and burned Shadow’s Fall too,” I stated, giving the group a nod to their unspoken question.

“So they did,” Kilgore affirmed with a solemn nod. “And that’s where Cassius and the others are right now, sifting through what’s left.”

“Then that’s where we need to be, too,” Freya said, glancing over towards the others who nodded in agreement before turning her attention back to Kilgore. “Quick question though. I don’t suppose that you might have noticed if any of those camps had been attacked or something, did you?”

“Not that I can remember,” the elf replied, giving the woman an inquisitive look. “Why?”

“Because after seeing a few prisoners defect yesterday, I’m clinging to a fleeting hope that the Dread Crew might have decided to self-destruct, saving us the trouble of needing to fight them,” she said with a sigh. “And not laying some sort of elaborate trap for us.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Kilgore answered in a tired voice despite shaking his head at the thought. “But honestly? I don’t think that’s the case. I didn’t notice anything like that while scouting the camps last night. There was a very methodical feel to how they destroyed everything behind them as they left.”

“Fantastic,” Freya said, similar sentiments echoing out from the group. “So much for that theory, then.”

“It might still be right,” I offered, my mind not having stopped racing as I considered all the potential possibilities and motivations that could have gone through the Dread Crew’s minds to prompt abandoning the field so drastically. “We can’t say until we get a better idea of what happened at Shadow’s Fall.”

“I agree,” Sierra said, glancing towards Kilgore and his other scouts. “Which means we’re going to have to get moving if we’re going to want to be there before the day’s over. Are you guys coming with or heading back to Aldford?”

“Coming with,” Kilgore replied, turning his head to look towards the other scouts in question, all of whom simply nodded to him in response. “Good or bad, we want to see what happened to Shadow’s Fall.”

“I understand,” Sierra said, each of us appreciating full well the group’s desire to see their home, no matter what might have happened to it. “Let’s get you all buffed, then.”

Breaking up from our impromptu meeting, we all turn our attention back to the raid, taking the time to refresh our enhancements and travel spells before resuming our journey, this time making a straight line towards Shadow’s Fall. But even with as far as we’d already traveled for the day, it still took us a few more hours to cross the length of the plains, the sun continuing its track across the sky until it finally started to descend and make its way towards the distant horizon, making it early evening by the time we finally arrived at Shadow’s Fall.

Or at least what was still standing.

Appearing little more than a hollow shell of scorched dirt and ash, there was next to nothing left of the growing settlement that I’d seen just a few weeks earlier, the smell of stale smoke greeting us as we approached. The buildings that I remembered from my last visit were now little more than charred frames—the few that still stood at all—their skeletal remains littering what had once been the heart of Shadow’s Fall. Even the trees and foliage surrounding the place hadn’t been spared, leaving the ground for dozens of meters completely barren and devoid of life.

They made sure that there was nothing at all left for us to use or to rebuild from, I noted as the raid came to a stop, my eyes scanning over the ruined defenses that the Dread Crew had built around Shadow’s Fall after they had taken it, nothing remaining but ash and charred wood.

Silence greeted us as the raid descended onto the ruined settlement, the exhausted members of Hallowguarde already there greeting us with blank looks before continuing to sift through the ashes of their home. Each and every one of us had envisioned reconquering Shadow’s Fall over the last week and forcing Carver and his group off the plains. But instead of the pitched battle we’d expected to fight to retake the place, here we were, standing with our vengeance denied, surrounded by nothing but ash and a hollow taste in the back of our throats.

<There’s hardly anything left,> I said to Amaranth as we strode into Shadow’s Fall, the remainder of the raid having scattered as they moved to secure the area and assist the Hallowguarde scouts. The majority of them had been up for over twenty-four hours since their day had begun yesterday, and they all showed it on their faces and in their movements.

<Only ash and smoke remain,> my familiar agreed as we passed by the burnt-out remains of what had once been Shadow’s Fall smithy. <I smell no blood nor burnt flesh amidst the destruction. The interlopers were not caught amongst the flames.>

<Nor did they leave anything of value behind…or intact,> I added, my eyes landing on the wreckage that had once been the hamlet’s forge, which looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer and a crowbar to it, reducing it to a pile of rubble. <They cleared out all the tools and metal that would have been in here.>

<They had time to prepare for their flight,> Amaranth agreed, the cat pausing to sniff at something buried in the ash before turning away and letting out a small sneeze. <But why? It seems…unusual for the interlopers to show such sudden cowardice and flee after their tenacity thus far.>

<I don’t know, Amaranth,> I replied, the ground crunching under our feet as we passed the ruined smithy. <But my guess is that they realized that they couldn’t hold this place for much longer. We’d have slowly bled them of more and more people if they kept fighting here. So they decided to not even try and pulled back.>

<To what end?> my familiar asked. <We are locked in a struggle of life and death. They must know we will hunt them regardless of the distance they flee.>

<And they are probably counting on that,> I replied with a weary sigh as I considered the implications of an even wider front than we already had. <By pulling back, they are forcing us to travel even farther away from Aldford to look for them, which will take more time, supplies, and energy on our part. Plus, it will make it more difficult for us to take more prisoners, since if we even managed to capture any, we would have to take them all the way back to Aldford, costing us time and offering them the chance to mount a rescue.>

<Rah!> Amaranth retorted with an annoyed growl. <How you two-legs fight frustrates me! Deception, trickery, and misdirection. How do you even know what to do?!>

<To be honest, we don’t,> I told the cat as we continued to inspect the remains of Shadow’s Fall. <We collect what information we can…then we make our best guess on what we should do next.>

<And if our guess is wrong?> my familiar asked unhappily. <What then?>

<Then we likely die,> I replied, <and hope that we have the chance to try again.>

<A comforting thought,> Amaranth said with resignation, both of us then walking in silence for a few moments before he spoke up again. <What is your…“guess” on our next course of action now?>

<Right now?> I asked, gathering my thoughts and glancing down at the azure-furred puma. <We help Cassius and his guild recover what they can from Shadow’s Fall.>

<And regarding our enemy?> the cat asked.

<That…I don’t know yet,> I said, my mind pondering our next move. With the Dread Crew pulling back, it gave us a desperately needed breather, if only to allow us a chance to repair and rearm before the war started anew.

Assuming, of course, that it restarted at all.

Despite all of our fighting over the last week, we still had no idea why Carver or the Dread Crew were so interested in attacking us—at least nothing beyond the vague theory that they were trying to establish their own territory out here like we had. We knew that the situation around Coldscar wasn’t exactly ideal for long-term settlement, nor were there really any other nearby prime locations that weren’t already hotly contested in one way or another. While I personally thought it unlikely, given their involvement with the orcs that we’d seen, I had to admit to myself that it wasn’t entirely impossible that the Dread Crew had simply decided to cut their losses and head elsewhere.

<We need more information before we can figure out what to do next,> I said to my familiar as I came out of my thoughts, glancing at the ruined settlement around us. <The Dread Crew had to have gone somewhere when they abandoned this place, and if we can find out where that was, we can see about following them. Worse case if that doesn’t pan out, then we’ll have to see what we can get out of the prisoners. I’m sure they’ll be surprised to hear that their allies have abandoned them.>

<No doubt,> Amaranth agreed in a quiet voice, the two of us spotting a distant figure standing at the edge of the lake that bordered the settlement.

There’s Cassius, I thought, recognizing the man despite the distance between us and angling our approach to take us directly to him. I can’t imagine how he’s feeling after seeing all of this.

Leaving the burnt-out remains behind us, it didn’t take long for us to reach the man, who remained completely unmoving as he continued to stare out over the lake. Stopping a short distance away from him, I didn’t say anything and instead simply joined him in looking out over the water and the distant greenery surrounding it.

“It was still on fire when we got here,” Cassius said to me by way of greeting nearly a minute later. “The rain had slowed things down a little bit here, but not enough to completely stop it. There was nothing we could do to save what was left.”

“I’m sorry, Cassius,” I said, knowing that there was little that I could say to make the man feel better.

“It’s okay, Lyrian,” the bald man said with a shrug. “I never really expected that we’d recover the place intact, not completely at least. But…just burning everything and running? It just seems like a waste. They could have made us pay dearly to take it from them.”

“This entire last week has been a waste,” I replied, watching the waves ripple across the lake’s surface.

“Yeah…” Cassius agreed, letting out a long sigh in the process. “I guess our plan to take prisoners hit them harder than we could have ever expected. Just like that, we have the plains back now…and they don’t have Shadow’s Fall to respawn from anymore.”

“It’ll definitely give us some more breathing room,” I replied, knowing that without needing to devote all of our energy fighting on the plains we could afford to double down on the construction around Aldford and let everyone have a short, and desperately needed, break from fighting. “Is there anything that you guys need help with here specifically? I know you’ve all been up for nearly the whole day.”

“No, I think we’re okay, Lyrian,” Cassius replied slowly, shaking his head. “At least as much as we can be. After all, all that we really lost were a few buildings and a couple weeks of work. Once this war settles down for good, we can start looking at rebuilding and replacing everything that we lost.”

“You don’t want to rebuild right away?” I asked, having expected that would have been a priority for the Hallowguarde guild leader.

“No, at least not substantially,” Cassius replied by both shrugging and shaking his head. “Until we’re sure the war is over, I think we’re better off focusing all of our energy on Aldford, especially with all of our effort going towards the palisade. If anything, I think we could keep this place as a forward camp if it turns out we need it but not devote too much into it so it won’t hurt us if we need to abandon it fast.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that, though?” I asked despite appreciating the man’s pragmatism. I knew full well how hard that decision would be if our positions had been reversed and it was Aldford razed to the ground.

“I will be,” Cassius answered. “Establishing a camp is something that we were going to have to do anyway if we want to get control of the plains and keep pressing after Carver. Besides, do you see any of us wanting to hang back and play in the dirt if we have a chance to repay the Dread Crew in kind for what they did here?”

“No, definitely not,” I admitted, turning so I could look back towards Shadow’s Fall. “Though I can’t help but think that we’re missing a part of the bigger picture here. I just can’t put my finger on what it could be.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, Lyrian,” Cassius replied, maintaining his gaze towards the lake for a few more seconds before turning away. “All right. That’s enough self-pity. Let’s go see what we can do to get things sorted out here and get everyone to bed, it’s been…a really, really, long day today, and I think it’s about time it came to an end.”

“Amen to that,” I agreed, casting one final glance over the water and taking in the sight before turning away and walking back towards Shadow’s Fall with Cassius, feeling the events of the day starting to weigh heavily on my mind. “Amen to that, indeed.”

Chapter 7

Wednesday, April 10th, 2047 – 9:56 a.m.

CTI Player Housing Complex

“Ugh,” I let out a faint groan of exhaustion as I numbly stared at the coffee machine in front of me, watching the carafe fill with what I thought was glacial slowness. Reaching up to rub my still damp face, I couldn’t help but let out a massive yawn as my brain slowly continued to boot itself up, protesting every single step of the way.

“Marcus! Are you ready yet?” Peter’s voice sliced like a hot knife through my consciousness, causing my eyes to reflexively narrow as if in pain. “We need to go! We’re late!”

“Ngh,” I replied wordlessly as I continued to stare at the still-filling pot.

“Dude, if I’m the one who’s saying that we’re late, then we’re really late!” Peter called out, the sound of his feet echoing through the quiet suite until he appeared at the entranceway of the kitchenette, his hair completely wild and not yet dry from his shower. “What’s the hold-up?”

“Coffee isn’t ready yet,” I replied, turning my head to look towards the man, then back at the machine. “Any second now.”

“Marc, we don’t have time, and I’m sure that they’ll have coffee—” Peter stated urgently, the words practically flying out of his mouth until a loud ding sounded and cut him off.

Launching into motion as soon as I heard the noise, I picked up the now-full carafe and poured it into an oversized travel mug that I had waiting on the counter. Once the pot was empty, I reached out towards a small jar of sugar, not even bothering to measure how much I was adding to the coffee and dumping roughly half of its contents into my drink. Continuing on autopilot, I completed the mix, pouring in a copious amount of cream before snapping a lid onto the mug’s top.

“Okay, now I’m ready,” I announced, grabbing the travel mug and giving it shake as I moved to leave the kitchen.

“Geez, Marc, that has to taste like diabetes with that much sugar in it,” Peter commented, glancing down at the massive forty-ounce container in my hand while holding out my jacket.

“You mean delicious,” I replied tiredly, throwing my coat on and following the man out of the suite as we rushed towards the elevator, which thankfully took seconds to arrive. Managing to take a healthy sip from my coffee while we descended, I felt the liquid begin to work its magic, slowly clearing the cobwebs from my brain.

Its doors opening with a chime, Peter didn’t waste any time in speeding out of the elevator the second he was able to, his fingers tapping on his phone as he moved, leaving me struggling to keep up in my still semi-asleep state. Crossing through the CTI lobby in a blur, it seemed like seconds before we were entering a waiting car, barely feeling the still brisk April air in the process.

“Quiet mode,” Peter told the car as the door closed behind me, never looking up from his phone. “I’m sending a text to Paul to let him know that we’re running a bit late.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking another long sip from my cup as the vehicle began to move and merged into traffic. “Hopefully, I’ll be more awake by the time we get there.”

“I’m surprised you sleep at all if you’re drinking coffee like that,” Peter said dryly as he continued to type out a message on his phone, pausing to rub his own eyes which were outlined by twin dark circles.

Unfortunately, our rest day today had been anything but that so far, starting itself off in a wild panic when I realized that the alarm that I thought I had set this morning hadn’t gone off, leaving me waking up and staring at my watch twenty minutes before both Peter and I were supposed to be at our regular meeting at Ætherworld Productions. The chaos that had followed afterward involved both Peter and I scrambling to get ready, the both of us needing to shower and clean up after spending ten straight days logged into Ascend Online. The only saving grace amid all the rush was that Deckard, Heron, and Zach had all opted to go home last night to sleep in their own beds, leaving us to only contend with a few muffled curses from Misha, along with a pair of thrown pillows as we got ready.

“It’s either the coffee or finding more time to sleep,” I replied, taking another long sip from my mug and then giving it another shake to stir up the sugar that hadn’t managed to dissolve yet. “And it’s not like we’ve had time to be idle the last couple days.”

“No, I guess not,” Peter admitted as he dropped his phone in his lap and leaned backward in his seat to stretch while letting out another large yawn. “Anything from the group chat? I haven’t even looked this morning yet.”

“Me either actually, let me check,” I replied as I reflexively reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and brought up the chat, skimming over the handful of updates that had been left by Cassius, Thorne, and Dunedin.

“Looks like routine stuff,” I said after having had a chance to fully skim through the text. “Léandre is sending some more supplies towards Shadow’s Fall by wagon with Thorne and the lizards escorting it, and Dunedin is taking all the hands he can get for logging today. Meanwhile, Cassius says that all is still quiet on his end of things.”

“Phew, that’s good news at least,” Peter replied with relief. “For some reason, I was expecting something to go to hell the minute that we logged off.”

“The day’s still early,” I said dryly, feeling the caffeine finally permeate into my brain and gradually sharpen my vision. “There’s plenty of time left for something to go wrong.”

“Well,” Peter grunted, casting a pointed glance at me. “Someone is sure feeling cheery today.”

“Eh,” I replied non-committally as I drank more of my coffee. “With everything that’s happened to us so far, I like to think I’m being realistic at this point.”

“Be that as it may, your realism is harshing my optimism,” Peter countered. “So drink more of your magic bean juice, fast, because I’m going to need positive Marcus around today.”

“With how much sugar and caffeine is in this drink, my bet is you’re probably going to end up with anxious and twitchy Marcus,” I said, offering the man a tired smile as I toasted him mockingly with my cup.

“So a regular day then,” Peter stated without missing a beat, his head bobbing in a nod. “I’m used to working with that.”

“Very funny,” I said, any chance I had for a more creative retort vanishing as we came to a stop, the short journey between the CTI building and the Ætherworld Productions office already complete.

Exiting the car, Peter and I wasted no time standing around, rushing into the building and towards our meeting, the sprint through the lobby and subsequent elevator ride passing by in a blur until I was myself pushing open the frosted glass door that led into the Ætherworld Productions suite.

Only to find myself being greeted by a loud shout as I stepped through the doorway.

“Marcus! Peter! You’re here!” Paul’s excited voice thundered through the air, followed closely behind by the sound of moving feet as the producer rushed over to greet us, having been waiting by the door for our arrival with a coffee mug in hand.

“Sorry we’re late,” I replied, only to have the man wave my apologies away dismissively.

“Oh, geez, don’t worry about that! I know all too well how hard you guys are working!” he exclaimed excitedly, motioning for us to follow him. “Come on over to my office. We can sit and talk there. I have some snacks ready too in case you haven’t eaten.”

“Nothing but coffee so far,” I said appreciatively, giving the receptionist seated behind the desk a wave as we moved to follow the man, passing through the now-immaculate reception area, all traces of the renovations that we’d seen last month completely finished.

Walking down a hall, it didn’t take us long to reach our destination, Paul opening a door that had his name on it and ushering us inside before closing it behind him. Glancing around the large office curiously, I spotted four large leather chairs placed strategically around a large coffee table which happened to have a box of doughnuts and pastries on top of it. Making a beeline for one of the chairs, I continued my inspection of the area, my eyes sliding off the plain, unadorned cream-colored walls before landing on a large screen that had been mounted onto it.

Only to be met by the bright yellow eyes of the Beast as it glared back at me, its tooth-filled maw causing a shiver of fear to crawl up my spine.

“O-oh!” I said as I reflexively came to a stop, unable to hide my flinch at the unexpected sight and the memories that came flooding back with it. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“N-not long enough by far,” Peter agreed, sharing the same unease that had affected me. “Though I think he’ll be guest-starring in my dreams for a few nights now.”

“Oh, shit! I’m sorry about that, guys!” Paul exclaimed from behind me as he raced across the room towards a wooden desk with two large monitors on top of it, doing something that resulted in the screen blanking itself. “I didn’t even think how seeing that would unsettle you two after needing to deal with the real thing! I was touching up the editing before you came.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, it being my turn to wave away Paul’s apology. “Just caught us off guard, that’s all. Besides, we should have expected it. Today’s the big day after all, isn’t it?”

“It is!” Paul replied, his earlier enthusiasm returning as he came back around the desk, waving a hand at the chairs. “Please sit and help yourself to whatever you want. Can I get you guys anything else before we get into things?”

“Nah, I’m all right,” Peter replied as he and I both sat down and grabbed a doughnut each.

“Same here,” I added before taking a healthy bite out of my pastry and savoring the sugar that came with it. Thanks to the VR diet, the last thing I needed to worry about now was getting fat from what I ate anymore.

“Great!” Paul exclaimed, picking up a tablet from the desk before moving to sit down across from Peter and me with visible excitement. “So, like you said, today’s the day when your big showdown in the Twilight Grove becomes available for streaming, and between us, I think it is absolutely going to kill it when it goes live tonight! There’s no doubt in my mind that you guys are going to keep climbing the rankings, especially with CTI introducing rank categories starting this month and evening out the playing field a bit.”

“Well, that’s good to hear!” I said with a smile before catching on to the second part of Paul’s news. “What exactly are they changing with the rankings, though? I thought they just tracked popularity?”

“They do,” he replied with a frown. “And unfortunately, that’s the problem. They made the system a bit too literal, and certain…let’s call them entrepreneurs, have taken advantage of that. Here, let me show you an example.”

Paul paused for a second to work on his tablet, tapping and swiping at it before the wall-mounted screen flickered back on and an image appeared.

“Whoa,” Peter gasped from beside me as we both stared at the screen in surprise. “I, uh, wow.”

“Yeah…” I agreed, feeling my eyes widen as I found myself staring at a completely naked elf on the screen who was being embraced from behind by a large and muscular werewolf, his arms and hands conveniently covering everything of interest. A somewhat creative-looking title at the bottom of the image read “Luna’s Passion”, followed by the phrase “Updated Daily” in smaller letters directly beneath it.

“Welcome to the era of truly immersive virtual reality porn,” Paul declared, sensing that neither Peter nor I was about to say anything else before swiping through a handful of other examples no less risqué than the first, eventually ending on one aptly titled “Dryads Gone Wyld”. “Where the only limit is your imagination, and then some.”

“S-so, it seems,” I said, finally finding my voice and forcing my eyes to look at Paul. “But how does that affect rankings, exactly?”

“Exactly how you think it would,” he stated with a snort. “Turns out that a lot of people are really interested in VR porn and Ascend Online by extension.”

“And why wouldn’t they be?” Peter asked. “You can log on into a fantasy world where you’re young, fit, sexy, and can do whatever you want with little consequence. I can see how that would catch on.”

“Oh, that it sure did,” Paul agreed, setting the tablet down as he reached for his coffee mug. “To the point where it started to dominate the top rankings and push the mainstream feeds down, which as you can imagine annoyed people who weren’t looking for something sexy to watch. So, to combat that, the new changes that CTI is introducing this month are pulling out VR porn and a few other stream styles into their own categories, where they can be properly filtered if need be and compete against similar listings.”

“That makes sense,” I agreed with a nod, my eyes flitting over at the screen briefly as I spoke before turning back towards Paul. “So, with all those adjustments going on, how are we ranking?”

“Extremely well, all things considered,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation. “You’ve dropped a little bit in rank since we last spoke to nine-hundred and eleven but considering that easily half of the feeds in the top thousand are pure smut, you’re still thriving under pretty intense competition. If it weren’t for all the porn, I figure you’d probably be ranked somewhere in the high to mid five hundreds.”

“Damn, that’s pretty great then!” Peter exclaimed with relief, glancing over towards me with excitement. “I was starting to get worried there!”

“Well, stop worrying,” Paul said with a large grin breaking out on his face, “because I think that once we air this new feed highlighting your fight against two raid bosses back to back along with the first recorded display of ritual magic, people aren’t going to be able to get enough of it. Hell, I’ll be shocked if you guys don’t crack the top hundred, even if it’s only for a short while.”

“That would be something,” I replied in what I hoped was a calm voice, despite feeling my heart quicken with excitement.

“Indeed,” Paul agreed, his smile not changing in the slightest as he reached into his jacket to pull out a folded piece of paper and handed it to me. “And on that note, these are your earnings for the month of March.”

Taking the paper from the man, I felt an involuntary tremble shoot up my hand as I touched it, remembering the mind-bogglingly large number that had been February’s earnings. Turning over the paper in my hand, I paused for a second before unfolding it and reading through all the numbers on the page. Eyes widening as I reached the final total, written in bold at the bottom of the paper, I felt my already racing heart suddenly begin to thunder in my ears, followed by my skin going cold. No longer seeing anything as my mind blanked, I passed the paper over towards Peter wordlessly, stunned at the number that I’d just read.

One million, one-hundred and twenty-nine thousand, six hundred and fifty-seven dollars…and twenty-four cents, I repeated, the number that I’d seen on the paper having burned a hole into my brain in the few seconds that I’d been staring at it. I had gone into the meeting knowing that our payout for March was going to be fairly healthy, given our steadily growing audience and the content that we’d managed to release so far, but this? This payout was something that I expected after the feed with the Beast and the shoggoth went live, not now.

“Hm,” I heard Peter’s voice break through the silence that had fallen over the room. “Yeah, that seems about right.”

“‘That seems about right?’” I repeated slowly, my eyes growing even wider as I snapped my head towards Peter. “You expected that we’d make this much?!”

“Now that we have the guild incorporated and everything?” Peter asked, giving me a questioning look as if I were stupid. “Yeah. We’re paying about half the amount in taxes than we did with our first payout, and when we’re talking about this amount of money that makes a huge difference.”

“No shit,” I snorted, waving a hand at the paper. “Why didn’t you say something before, then? This is huge!”

“What do you mean? I did! I told you that our tax-rate was going to drop to—” Peter began to explain before I held out my hands, cutting him off.

“And you lost me again as soon as you said, ‘tax-rate’,” I said shaking my head, now vaguely recalling tuning out of a conversation a couple weeks earlier where Peter had tried to explain Virtus’s finances in reality to me. “But okay, I believe you now.”

“The guild will definitely be happy with it once we distribute the shares,” Peter said waving the sheet of paper with a smile on his face. “Even the recruits will get a decent chunk.”

“That they will,” I agreed with a grin, realizing that money wasn’t going to be a problem for us or anyone in Virtus anytime soon.

As part of making sure that everyone in the guild got paid for their contribution to our collaborative feed, we’d come up with a share system that split the profits between the members of the guild. This way, everyone felt that their efforts were valued and also provided a consistent incentive for people to continually improve their characters or fill specific roles that we needed within both the guild and Aldford. In the case of the recruits, they typically started off with a half-share while on probation, our way of seeing if they meshed into the guild’s culture before giving them more responsibility and pay, with the more established guild members getting a full share, or like in our cases, substantially more. I was sure that we would eventually have to adjust the system as we continued to grow, but for the time being, it served our needs, and everyone was happy.

“I’m really happy to hear that you’re both satisfied with the payout,” Paul said with a cheerful chuckle at our reactions, reminding us that he was still in the room. “I’m expecting that both April and May are going to be equally exciting, especially when you tell me how this war with Carver is going and how we can start priming the viewers for that.”

“Oh, it’s going to take some priming, all right,” I said, a sudden frown crossing my face as I turned to look back towards the man. “Because these last couple of days on our end took a bit of a turn that we weren’t expecting.”

“A bad one?” Paul prompted with a note of concern in his voice, seeing the expression on my face.

“We don’t know yet,” Peter answered. “Maybe confusing, annoying, worrying, and relieving are the best words to describe it.”

“Huh,” the producer grunted, giving us a shrug. “Well, we’ll just have to roll with it then. What’s going on?”

“In short, we don’t know,” I said, going on to fill Paul in on everything that had happened in the last few days, having sent the man a brief overview in the middle of last week to keep him in the loop. “Then all of yesterday we pretty much spent crating more supplies to Shadow’s Fall and scouting the forest where we saw the tracks from the settlement leading to, but we didn’t find any solid leads before we ran out of time and had to log off.”

“More like kicked off,” Peter corrected, trying to hide a small yawn that crept across his face as he spoke. “We played until the game forced us out early this morning, then crawled into bed after.”

“I see,” Paul said as he absorbed everything that we’d told him. “I can definitely see that all being a bit frustrating from your point of view, but that might actually be a bit of a blessing when it comes to the viewers. We’ve had a handful of comments that the feeds have been a bit too combat-focused lately, and I’m wondering if there is a case of fatigue slowly growing.”

“Well, if there isn’t with the viewers, there sure is with us,” Peter grumbled. “We haven’t had a chance to catch a breather in ages, but we also haven’t really been able to control that on our end of things either.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, breathing out a weary sigh. “It’s been either do or die nonstop for the last month. This break with Carver isn’t what I’d call ideal, since we have no idea where they’ve gone to or what they’re doing, but damned if it hasn’t helped with burnout.”

“Then we’ll take what we get in stride,” Paul stated, offering us a consoling nod.

“Are the viewers saying anything else that we should know about?” Peter asked curiously. “Good or bad.”

“Not really,” Paul replied confidently. “As a whole, people are really enjoying everything you guys do, and the feedback is still overwhelmingly positive. Of course, there are still a few vocal outliers here and there, but you can’t please everyone.”

“No,” I agreed, knowing full well how futile that endeavor was from a few of the game projects that I worked on before Ascend Online had been released. Trying to please everyone often ended up pleasing no one, which often ended up with the project being abandoned at a loss. “Any standouts among the vocal people though? I’d rather not wait to address something until it’s a full-blown problem.”

“Eh,” Paul grunted thoughtfully as he brought up his hand to his chin and rubbed it. “There was one particular thread about how you, in particular, Marcus, seem to forget about your abilities from time to time. They apparently thought you could have gotten away from Carver during your clash in the forest by blink stepping away or using your Jump spell, instead of—and I paraphrase—‘being lazy and just walking up to him and dying’. Apparently, they took that as reason enough to not watch anymore.”

“Good riddance, then,” I replied with a snort. “I mean, sure, I look back at that battle and try to think of what I could have done differently, but ‘just blink stepping’ away isn’t as easy as it sounds, especially not when the fighting is that thick.”

“Yeah, those are pretty much my thoughts, too,” Paul said with a shrug. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“I don’t suppose we could head these things off by just telling viewers that we’re looking for generic praise and compliments in our reviews?” Peter asked in a slightly sarcastic tone. “Along with things like wanting to name firstborns after us, how they finally can experience joy after watching our feeds, you know, stuff like that.”

“Ha, if only!” Paul replied with a laugh. “But unfortunately, the world doesn’t work that way.”

“Boo.” Peter grunted, reaching down to grab a pastry. “Were there any others?”

“Honestly, not really past that,” Paul said, reaching up to scratch his head in thought. “If I really dig deep, I recall a handful of posts grumbling about that you guys haven’t learned any new abilities in a while outside of skill points, or more specifically aren’t trying to learn new abilities.”

“They have to know it’s not exactly that simple, right?” Peter asked in between bites of his treat. “We’re not exactly in a main hub or city where we can get training from people or buy spells. Plus, you can’t just decide that you’re going to learn something at the drop of a hat. You have to at least know a little bit about what you’re trying to learn, and even then, the game has a pretty big say in if that even works too.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that,” Paul replied with a shrug. “But…the follow up on that feedback was that you guys should essentially do the same thing Mozter did. Spend some time watching other people’s feeds, see what they’re doing, then try to copy moves you see there.”

“You mean stream snipe from other feeds,” I said, referring to a term that had been around long before I was born, but one that was likely going to re-evolve in the light of Ascend Online’s popularity. In essence, it involved watching a feed that was being posted by a streamer and purposefully using that feed to either cheat the person doing the streaming or somehow gain an unfair advantage.

“In essence, yes, but in logical practice, also no,” Paul countered, shaking his head at the negative connotation the term brought on. “Because you still need to do the work to actually ‘learn’ the ability within the game, which as with everything I’m seeing, is likely going to take a time investment on your part. Basically, all you’d be doing is seeing what sort of abilities or maneuvers are possible in the first place, then trying to reverse-engineer them.”

“That is true I suppose,” I replied, pausing to sip my coffee as I considered the man’s point.

At its heart, learning a new ability involved repeating the motions associated with it until they were firmly imprinted in muscle memory. Having a trainer that already knew the ability was the best way to learn it quickly since they could correct any mistakes being made and give the trainee guidance. But failing to have access to a trainer, just knowing that a certain ability existed at least gave us a starting point to try to work out the discovery ourselves.

Which as Paul had so aptly put, would most likely take a substantial time investment to reverse-engineer.

“It isn’t too different than if we saw someone using an interesting ability in-game already, Marc,” Peter said, no doubt sensing the general track of my thoughts. “Except that we can cast a wider net looking at other feeds. Not to mention, trying to memorize these moves in reality and then carrying them into the game is going to be a trick unto itself.”

“That is true too,” I agreed, the idea becoming somewhat more attractive as I gave the matter more thought. However, as I did, a follow-up realization promptly dawned in my mind causing me to frown. “Though, I’m thinking now though, if this meta approach works for us and we can learn abilities this way, then we’ll have to start taking pains to make sure that we don’t give away anything interesting on our own feeds. Mozter was already enough of a copycat.”

“That he was, and I’m happy he’s decided to go play the game elsewhere,” Peter said, the dark elf in question not having been seen since his defeat in Twilight Grove. “But at the same time, he copied your general build and spell use, rather than all of your abilities directly.”

“I guess,” I replied, offering the man a shrug. “It’s a good idea at any rate, and I can’t wait to try, assuming we even find the time to fit that into our schedule somewhere…”

“There is that,” Peter agreed.

“I’m sure that you will all manage as best as you can if it’s possible,” Paul said smoothly, knowing our concerns all too well. In the recent weeks, we’d already asked him to censor out certain parts of the Twilight Grove and the Nafarrian ruins from our feed, as well as everything regarding the building and development plans for Aldford. The last thing we wanted was for other players to get an inside look at our defenses or secrets from outside the game.

“Just let us know what we can do on our end of things to keep whatever you need to have hidden or excluded from your feeds,” the man went on to say. “We’ll do our best to keep any creative abilities that you guys happen to have under wraps for as long as possible.”

“Thanks, Paul,” I replied, giving the man a smile and a nod as I considered how we could make the most of that particular bit of information he’d given us.

I knew I hadn’t exactly made the best use of the Open Minded trait that I’d started the game with, getting far too caught up in managing Aldford or one of the other countless events that had marked the last two months, but maybe I could start making up for lost time and start working on it in the days ahead, assuming, of course, I could find the time to do so. At everyone’s urging, I’d done my best to delegate the running or building of Aldford to others, but all that had done was leave me with more time to find other things to occupy myself with.

“No problem, Marcus,” the producer stated with a nod, oblivious to the rapid train of thoughts that had passed through my mind. “After all, we’re here to help any way we can.”

“Hey, speaking of help,” Peter interjected, sitting up in his chair as he spoke. “Did you have a chance to look into that stuff that Heron and I sent over a while ago for the other guilds around Coldscar?”

“Yes, we did actually, and we’ve managed to narrow it down to a few solid candidates,” Paul answered, reaching out to pick up the tablet he’d left on the table. “Give me two seconds, and I’ll send it to the monitor.”

“Sure,” I replied, using the opportunity to reach out and grab another doughnut and wash it down with another sip of coffee, seeing the scantily clad dryads that had been left on the monitor vanish. A second later, they were replaced by a handful of guild logos and names.

Working off our earlier idea to build up the region surrounding Aldford, we’d decided to follow through on our plan and looked into some of the guilds that had settled around Coldscar, with the intention of extending invitations to those we thought would be good neighbors. However, on our first attempt, we’d managed to find nearly three dozen guilds that seemed to fit the bill at first glance, leaving us more than a little bit overwhelmed at the choices that we’d had. So, to help with that, we’d enlisted Paul and his company, Ætherworld Productions, to help scan through our selections and help vet them.

“So, I suppose I can start this off by saying that the situation around Coldscar has continued to deteriorate based on what I’ve seen in the feeds,” Paul began, placing the tablet in his lap as he spoke. “A few of the guilds you’ve given me on your list have already left the area, either striking out towards the Fens of Swyn or just straight out into the wild. Three have also completely disbanded, with some of their members getting absorbed into other guilds in the area.”

“Great!” Peter exclaimed happily. “That means whoever’s left has to be decently strong but also a bit desperate.”

“Which is what I focused my efforts on,” Paul agreed, having shared Peter’s mercenary attitude since the very beginning. “Though for some of these guilds, you might have a hard time convincing them to leave one warzone for another—even if things have calmed down a bit between you and Carver right now. Many of them are simply on the edge of burning out.”

“I can understand that; we’re really no different,” I said grimly, the familiar exhaustion still hovering at the back of my mind. “But just having one or two decently sized guilds in the area around Aldford that we can trust would also convince Carver that it’s too dangerous to keep bothering us. We’d finally be the ones with a number advantage.”

“You could be right,” Paul said. “But, fair warning, moving is something you’re going to have to sell them on pretty hard.”

“Or…” Peter began, waving the paper Paul had just given us in his hand. “We give them an offer that they can’t refuse.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, glancing over towards him.

“We pay them in cash to come out and settle in Aldford,” Peter said with a devilish grin. “What do you think it’d take to convince someone? A few grand maybe? We can spare it. Plus, in-game coin too if we have enough time to finish minting it.”

“Is that even legal, though?” I asked, not entirely sure how I felt about Peter’s suggestion. Bringing in real-world money into something like this seemed like a way to create an unfair power dynamic between the parties involved. “The last thing I want is to have CTI coming down on our heads for manipulating the game from a meta point of view.”

“As far as I know, it should be fine,” Peter answered without a missing a beat. “Some of the really big guilds have started posting jobs for people with certain skills, such as logistics or even public relations, and they are offering to pay them a real-world salary in addition to supporting them within the game. Depending on how we spin it, we would essentially be hiring an entire guild as mercenaries or providing relocation incentives for new immigrants to the area.”

“Huh,” I mused thoughtfully as I considered the argument. Being able to hire people to fill specific roles that we needed around Aldford would be helpful beyond measure, and I could easily see a whole new jobs market evolving if CTI didn’t raise a stink about it, allowing even more people to make a living playing Ascend Online that didn’t rely on streaming income.

Have DPS, will travel, I mentally quipped with a small grin as I nodded at Peter, seeing that there was a great deal of merit to his idea. Assuming that it’s legal, of course.

“Do you think you’d be able to get Andrew to look into this for us?” I asked as I looked over towards Paul, referring to the lawyer that had helped set up Virtus as a corporate entity in reality. “I’m not sure how it might suit us in getting these guilds to come and settle here, but I think that we might be onto something here big picture wise. Filling roles that we need done in-game the same way we’d hire someone for a job is an attractive idea.”

“Yeah, I can definitely see that,” he replied, clearly curious to know the answer to our question too. “I think we’re all going to be excited to find out what the answer is. If we can, though…I think I’m going to need to expand my staff pretty quickly. There’s going to be a ton of opportunity there.”

“No kidding,” I agreed, vaguely feeling like the three of us had just released a genie from a bottle and had no idea of what it was capable of.

“Anyway, getting back to this,” Paul said, motioning towards the screen with his head as he changed the slides on the screen, which now showed two faces side by side. “I’ve managed to narrow your list down to two larger guilds that I think would be great fits, plus a handful of smaller ones that look promising as well.”

“That’s not bad,” I said as I read the two captions beneath the two headshots, one of them identifying a black-haired Eberian as Mithaniel, Guild Leader of Lionheart with the other being Janus, Guild Leader of Legion, a brown-haired half-elf.

Pausing for a moment to stare at the two pictures for a few seconds, I nodded and shifted my gaze back towards Paul.

“Tell us about the Lionheart guild.”

Chapter 8

“Your success or failure at this point no longer concerns me.” I heard a man’s voice echo through my headphones, the familiar tones causing me to bolt upright in my chair and my eyes widen in surprise. “While your service has been impressive thus far, I see no reason for me to intervene. As it is, I have already loaned Edith into your service, and you have damaged her.”

“Holy shit, is that who I think it is?” I whispered softly to myself as I clicked to rewind the feed that I was watching, getting a perfect view of Sawyer and another woman I knew to be named Molly, my heart suddenly racing in my chest. Restarting the feed, I watched the segment once again, hearing the voice fill my ears once more. “What are the odds…”

Much to my shame, it had taken me ages to finally get around to watching the entirety of Lazarus’s feed in detail, having been derailed by everything that had happened over the last few weeks. All I’d done was a handful of simple spot checks throughout the feed that Lazarus had given me, focusing largely on the aftereffects of his adventure in Eberia and his interactions with Stanton in particular. A short-sightedness that I was immediately starting to berate myself for.

“Damn, it is him!” I exclaimed as I paused the feed once more, having allowed it to play up until the point where a ghostlike apparition wearing a mask and robes came into view, standing in the middle of a courtyard along with several other people. “It has to be! I’d never forget that voice!”

“Who is what, Marc?” I heard Peter’s muffled voice call out from outside my headphones, prompting me to pause my feed again and turn towards him, spotting him sitting on the couch across the room. “Why the hell are you yelling all of a sudden?”

“Because I think I just heard Graves’s voice in Lazarus’s feed,” I replied, pulling the headset off my ears.

“Graves?! Damn, I’d forgotten about him!” Peter exclaimed as he stood up and moved over towards me. “What is he doing in Lazarus’s feed?”

“Fucking things up from the looks of it,” I replied, waving a hand at the paused feed, which was focused on a robed apparition in a barren courtyard. “Remember how Lazarus and the others stopped the Ascendancy from sneak attacking Eberia? Well, seems like he might have been pulling the strings behind it.”

“That sure does sound like Graves’s style,” Peter said dryly as he looked at the screen. “But are you sure though, man? People can sound all sorts of ways in recordings, could be a random person or even an NPC that sounds similar.”

“Yes…no? Ugh, I don’t know, maybe?” I said, glancing back again at the feed, then towards Peter once more. “Whoever this talking ghost thing is, they’re also wearing a mask, so I can’t see their face to be sure.”

“Hrm, so much for an easy solution,” Peter said as he dropped into a nearby desk chair and glided over towards me, his hands indicating for me to pass the headphones over. “Let me have a listen.”

“Sure,” I replied, handing them over to Peter and sliding out of the way for him to better see the screen. Waiting for the man to get settled, I restarted the particular segment that I’d been watching, seeing his eyes narrow in concentration.

“Hrm, shit, that is pretty close to what I remember him sounding like,” Peter replied a few seconds later. “And you’re right with whatever happened here with Lazarus and the others. It kinda sounds like he’s in charge of this shitshow.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I’m still not completely sure that it’s him. Only that it sounds like him.”

“Me either,” Peter stated while motioning to the computer. “We have our old feeds, right? Try pulling Graves talking from something there. We can compare it and see if it’s just our imaginations.”

“Good idea,” I replied, pulling up a folder and searching until I found a relevant clip from our feed. “Here, let’s use the speakers for this, it’s not like anyone else is back yet.”

“Sure,” Peter said with a shrug as he leaned in closer towards the screen, the two of us listening closely to the feed.

After our meeting with Paul at Ætherworld Productions, Peter and I had returned to an empty apartment, Misha having texted us that she was going out for breakfast with a friend, then heading back to her apartment to grab a few things. That had given us the suite completely to ourselves for the day, which we promptly used to continue working—Peter busying himself with setting up a meeting with the two guilds that we’d just finished vetting and me trying to catch up on my endless to-do list that hadn’t seen much progress in the last month.

“Hrm,” I grumbled after the most recent clip finished, turning to look towards Peter. “That still sounds like him, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Peter agreed with a sigh before motioning for me to move over. “Here, let me have a crack at that.”

Sliding over to give the man clear access to the computer, the next hour flew by in the blink of an eye as we watched and re-watched countless segments of our feeds that had Graves in it. Given that we had access to Freya’s and nearly all the other’s feeds from Graves’s original trek to Aldford, we had plenty of samples containing his voice to choose from. Unfortunately, though, with each and every single one we watched, my suspicions became stronger and stronger.

“No feeds with his name attached,” I replied in defeat a while later, breaking what had been a long silence as I finished my search through the currently available feeds and leaned back in my chair to rub my eyes. “Not even any old ones before our showdown. If that’s really him, he’s keeping this all under wraps pretty tightly.”

“Probably a smart thing to do if you’re trying to destabilize a kingdom,” Peter said dryly as he too leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling for several seconds. “I think that we might need to try tackling this from another perspective.”

“I’m open to ideas,” I answered, turning over the tablet in my hands in an attempt to keep them busy. “What are you thinking?”

“First off, let’s make things simple and cut Graves out of the picture for a second,” Peter stated, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he spoke. “And let’s just assume that we have someone, be it NPC or player, trying to stir up some shit in Eberia with the intention of helping the Ascendancy somehow. How does that all fit together with what we already know that’s happening in the city?”

“Hm,” I made a thoughtful sound as I considered the question. “Well, we know from Lazarus and Stanton that the nobles in Eberia are all at one another’s throats, partly because of everything that happened in Lazarus’s feed, but I’m guessing there’s been other resentment building for a while now, way before the game even started. Lazarus’s stuff is just what set it all off.”

“Right,” Peter agreed, nodding his head. “Plus, we also know that the king is making that even worse by staying completely out of the city’s politics and is wrapped up himself with that woman he’s chasing, not to mention whatever cult Stanton says she’s associated with.”

“Yeah, the Church of Nil,” I said. “Do you think they’re linked in this somehow? Stanton did say that she had a priest with her, and this guy in the feed is pretty ‘robey’ and cultish looking.”

“Maybe?” Peter replied as he gave me a shrug. “Anyone who’s played a game knows there’s a story arc going on there, probably even a larger world event in the making. But without more information, we can’t assume that Graves and that priest are one and the same. No matter how ‘robey’ or ‘culty’ they may look.”

“Well, there’s the king’s fall out with the military too, which the church was involved in,” I added, remembering Veronia’s description of events when they’d tried to curb the faith’s influence on Swain. “Plus, there’s all of this geas stuff in Lazarus’s feed that the old king in Eberia apparently had access to as well. If those aren’t red flags that something’s going on, I don’t know what is.”

“Wait, there’s geas stuff? Ugh, I guess I probably should watch that feed too now,” Peter said, rubbing his face with a sigh. “Okay, so let’s say that this church is involved in something shady, but how does that connect at all with Graves, assuming that’s really him, in helping the Ascendancy? Why would they go through all this trouble to get the king’s ear, then pull everything down around them? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Based on what we know,” I countered. “They could have any number of agendas. You saw in the same feed as me that Graves didn’t care if things worked out or not.”

“You really think it’s him, don’t you, Marc?” Peter asked, glancing towards me as he posed the question.

“I…think it sounds like him,” I said, taking a moment to consider what I was thinking and feeling. I didn’t want my history with Graves to color my perceptions unfairly, yet I didn’t feel that I could ignore the evidence at hand. “I don’t know how he would have gotten involved in any of this, nor what happened to him after we stopped him, but look at what’s going on and tell me that you don’t see a link.”

“Oh, I see a link for sure, Marc, don’t get me wrong,” Peter replied, “but until I see his face or a tag identifying him, I’m going to assume that the voice is a coincidence and that we’re dealing with a random player. Unless, of course, you want to send Graves a PM to check in on him?”

“Oh, yeah, how would that go?” I said, mockingly pulling up my hand by my ear as if I were on the phone. “‘Hey, Graves, it’s Lyrian. Remember me and how I beat you senseless and ruined your plans? Great! No hard feelings, by the way. I’m just checking in to see if you’re stirring up some shit in Eberia. No? Well, my bad then. Stay the hell away from Aldford in either case, though. Thanks, bye.’”

“Ha! Sure, I don’t see why you can’t start off with that and see where it gets you,” Peter replied with a chuckle.

“Onto his ignore list I bet, assuming I’m not there already,” I said, looking down at the tablet in my hands, an idea suddenly coming to mind. “But even if we don’t know what this ‘mystery player’ is up to, it’s been what? A month and a bit since everything in Lazarus’s feed has happened? Maybe a better track is to take a look at the feeds coming out of Eberia now. Whatever’s going on there has had plenty of time now to cook and develop.”

“Hey, there’s an idea,” Peter said, leaning forward in his chair as he called up a search page on the computer while I did the same on my tablet. “Plus, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to see what’s going on there anyway. I’ve been focused almost exclusively on Coldscar lately since that’s where most of the players are right now.”

“But not all of them,” I noted as my tablet finished loading my most recent search, showing me a list of feeds that were being uploaded from Eberia.

“No, not quite from the looks of it,” Peter agreed as we set about the task of sorting through our respective lists, taking the time to watch snippets of the feeds that were being posted publicly. Comparatively, there weren’t as many individual postings coming out of Eberia as there were in Coldscar, but that still left dozens upon dozens of them to scan through, despite the fact that many of them proved to be next to useless. But the longer that we worked, we were able to find the rare few that helped us paint a picture of what was happening in the city.

A picture that neither of us happened to like.

“Damn, what’s happened to this place…” Peter mumbled as he skimmed through a feed on his screen. “This is nothing like what I remember from launch day. Everyone here looks scared—terrified, even.”

“I’ll sure say,” I replied as I skimmed through my own clip which showed a full riot in progress. At first, it was hard to pick out what exactly was going on—the adventurer whose perspective I was watching from having arrived late to the scene—but as the events unfolded, the view eventually shifted to show several different forces fighting in the middle of the street. “I have what looks like two or maybe three sets of guards wearing different colors brawling in the street with one another here, while the other citizens watch and throw rocks from the sidelines.”

“Yeah?” Peter asked, leaning over from his chair to look at my tablet, shaking his head as he saw it. “What’s the date on that one?”

“As recent as it gets with the delay,” I replied. “This happened right at the end of March. It was uploaded this morning.”

“So, chances are it could be worse now,” Peter said with a sigh, turning to look back at his screen. “I haven’t found anything as exciting as that, but I can definitely confirm that the nobles are still at one another’s throats from these older feeds. From what I’ve been able to piece together so far, they’ve almost divided up the city between themselves, with checkpoints and guard posts everywhere. It’s like they’re carving out their own little kingdoms within Eberia itself.”

“Shit,” I cursed with a scowl. “I knew things in Eberia weren’t exactly great, but this is getting to be worse than I thought. Are you seeing anything about that church? If they’re up to doing something, now’s the best time.”

“Bits and pieces, but nothing that stands out, to be honest, especially not compared to the other churches in Eberia,” Peter answered, switching to another clip on the monitor showing a group of men dressed in simple black and grey robes standing on top of a heavily loaded wagon. But before he could press play, the door let out a chime and opened, Misha’s voice filling the air a second after.

“Hey, boys, I’m back!” she called out, both of us swiveling in our chairs to see the blonde-haired woman drop a heavy duffle bag to the ground with a loud thump before bending down to take off her shoes. “How did the meeting with Paul go? Are we managing to keep up with the bills?”

“Hey, Mish,” I replied, my brain shifting gears as I thought back to the earlier part of the day. “Yeah, everything went well, and we’re managing to keep things afloat.”

“Well, I was hoping for more specifics, but I guess that’s good to hear,” she said as she stood up and looked in our direction, her eyes landing on us before sliding off and focusing on the computer screen. “What have you guys been up to all day? Searching through more feeds for guilds to invite up to Aldford?”

“No, we already got that sorted out,” I answered, looking over towards Peter, then back at Misha. “I’m afraid we have some good news and some bad news.”

“Oh?” the woman asked, a single eyebrow rising inquisitively. “What’s going on?”

“Well, the bad news, if I’m not mistaken in where Marc is going with this,” Peter said, his eyes alternating between me and Misha, “is that it looks like Eberia is really going to shit, and there is a non-zero chance that Graves could be behind it all, or if not, a big piece of it.”

“I see,” Misha stated slowly, her face turning blank at the mention of Graves’s name. “And pray tell, what is the good news?”

“The guild made slightly over one point one million dollars from our feed last month,” I said, letting a smile spread on my face as I dropped the news.

“I see,” Misha repeated again, the only different sign this time being a slight widening of her eyes. “And just so I have it right…I have ten shares allotted to me, correct?”

“Yep, we all do,” I answered with a nod.

“That’s what I thought,” Misha said, the emotion in her face returning as a grin appeared. “For ten shares of that pie, I can deal with a hell of a lot of bad news, even if it happens to involve Graves. Catch me up. How did you guys come across this in the first place?”

“It was Lazarus’s feed, actually…” I said as I started to explain the last few hours of mine and Peter’s research to Misha, the woman falling into a third chair and joining us both.

“And that’s about as far as we got,” Peter finished as the feed with the robed men he’d pulled up earlier came to an end, which had shown several priests belonging to the Church of Nil handing out packages of food to a group of Eberian citizens. “Things seem to be going steadily downhill in Eberia based on what we’ve been able to find so far, which is a bit worrying given the skirmishing between Eberian and Ascendancy adventurers that we’ve seen outside of Coldscar.”

“It does look pretty chaotic,” Misha admitted as she continued to stare at the frozen image on the screen between us. “What’s the situation like in Coldscar comparatively?”

“Much better,” Peter said. “But that doesn’t mean much in itself, because Coldscar is largely a military city. According to the feeds, what’s-his-name—Veronia’s father—is running the place himself now while he digs in and gets ready for the Ascendancy to come knocking.”

“I don’t know his first name, but I remember Aldwin referring to him as Marshal Tarius,” I told the pair. “He’s the overall commander of the Eberian military from what I understand, now that Swain has cut himself out of the loop.”

“A commander without any support from home from the looks of it,” Misha mused, scratching her chin in thought. “Honestly, if I were in his shoes, I’d really consider abandoning Coldscar, pulling back to Eberia with the military behind me, and staging a coup if need be.”

“Thus driving everything straight into civil war,” I replied wearily, the same thought having crossed my mind in the past. “Then into real war shortly after once the Ascendancy decides to knock on the door.”

“War does seem to be the common thread all across the board lately,” Misha commented with a distasteful expression. “Which I guess brings me to this next question…and I know it’s probably going to sound a little bit callous.”

Peter and I both looked towards the woman with inquisitive looks, her eyes glancing between us.

“Is any of this our problem?” Misha asked, waving a hand at the screen. “Eberia, the problems with the nobles, hell, even Graves. We did what Stanton asked and restored the æther flow to the city. Our involvement is done now.”

“Well, we kinda have a vested interest in making sure that Eberia doesn’t go to shit,” I said, wondering where Misha was going with her question. “We’re sort of neighbors, after all.”

“Yeah,” Peter agreed. “If something happens to Eberia, like the Ascendancy for example, then chances are we’re not going to be that far behind.”

“I absolutely agree to all of that,” Misha replied, her eyes focusing on me as she spoke, “but again, is that our problem? As it is, we’re kinda neck-deep in our own issues with Carver at the moment. Not to mention those orcs that we know are around, too.”

“Along with ten thousand other things that I’m sure are just waiting in the shadows to pounce on us the first chance that they can,” Peter added. “What’s your point?”

“That is my point,” the blonde-haired woman replied. “With everything we have on our plate right now, addressing a problem in Eberia isn’t exactly realistic for us. At least not from within the game. Outside of the game, however…”

She paused to look at us expectantly, letting her words hang in the air.

“We can shine a spotlight on it,” I said as Misha’s train of thought began to crystalize in my mind. “We have Lazarus’s feed right here, which we can use to highlight everything going on in Eberia, and then we could probably reference some of the other feeds that have already been posted, maybe get Paul to put something together as well…”

“Then piggyback that feed off our existing popularity to let the other players watching a preview of everything that’s going on in Eberia,” Peter finished, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “Depending who sees it and if it goes viral enough, it might convince some of the adventurers around Coldscar to head back to the city or maybe encourage new players to spawn there. But that could also cut both ways. We might get people who are looking to start shit heading back there or end up giving away information to the Ascendancy players.”

“Information that’s already out there,” Misha pointed out. “You guys found all this out after, what? A couple hours of searching? The top Ascendancy players have probably watched the majority of the feeds coming out of both Coldscar and Eberia as they prepare for this war. Hell, if they had friends in the character creation queue, they might have had them spawn in Eberia on purpose to destabilize it from the inside. I know I would have tried if I were in their shoes.”

“And on top of all of that, we have no surefire way of controlling what other players will do,” I added, leaning back in my chair as I considered our options going forward, realizing that Misha’s suggestion was the best that we could realistically manage. “Regardless if it’s good or bad, players will simply do whatever they want to. It’s anyone’s guess how any of this will play out.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re both right there,” Peter conceded with a sigh. “So, the question becomes are we going to stick our nose into this then in the first place? Remember, we’re also going to be trying to steal a pair, if not more, of the better guilds in the area too. Depending on how this works out, we could be throwing the whole region into chaos ourselves.”

“Or the guilds might tell us to screw off and our warning about Eberia will fall flat,” I replied fatalistically, knowing that everything that we were planning could amount to nothing. “But I think we have another obvious solution here that we might be overlooking.”

“And what’s that?” Peter asked, turning his head to look at me and raising an eyebrow.

“Sending Lazarus, Sawyer, and Ransom back to Eberia,” I announced, belatedly realizing that I’d used the group’s online names out of habit all this time and went onto correct myself. “Err, I mean Gavin, Michael, and Alec. As it is, they’re only here with us because Stanton dragged them out to Aldford. With the ley line stuff sorted out, I’m sure they’re itching to get back to their people who are being held prisoner by House Denarius.”

“That they are…” Misha confirmed with a sigh, her expression shifting unreadably as she spoke. “I was talking to Michael the other day, and he said the same thing. They’re a bit torn on leaving us in the lurch with what we have going on.”

“Well, we might not be in the lurch anymore with Carver and the Dread Crew gone,” Peter said. “And I don’t want them to resent us if they really want to get back home.”

“Definitely not,” I agreed, feeling myself warm up to the idea, especially now that I’d finished watching the group’s feed and knew why the three wanted to get back to Eberia in the first place. “But even if they aren’t up for going back just yet, I think putting out a highlight of events from the feeds we have is a good idea. It’s also realistically the best we can manage right now because you’re right, Misha, we have enough of our own problems to deal with. Maybe once we put our Carver problem to bed, we can turn our eyes back that way, but until then…”

“Our focus needs to be on getting our own house in order,” Misha finished. “And deal with whatever else as it comes.”

“Okay,” Peter said, letting out a slow breath as he leaned forward in his seat, glancing down at the floor for few seconds, deep in thought. “What’s our first step then if we’re going to plan this out? We still have plenty of day left to work with.”

“Well, first things first,” I said as the three of us began to sort out all the details of putting our plan together. “I’m going to have to have a talk with Gavin…”

Chapter 9

Thursday, April 11th, 2047 – 7:03 a.m.

Aldford

“Hey, have you guys seen Lazarus today?” I asked as I walked into the town hall with Amaranth by my side, spotting Sawyer and Ransom sitting together at a table and eating breakfast. “I need to talk to him.”

“Hm? Oof, morning, Lyr,” Sawyer managed amid a mouthful of food, pausing to finish chewing and swallow while his hand pointed towards the northwest. “Erm, sorry. Uh, well, we haven’t seen him since last night, but we’re still in a group. Party sense has him out somewhere that way, outside the town and towards Crater Lake.”

“Isn’t that where he went yesterday?” Ransom asked, turning his head towards Sawyer. “He said he was going to go for a walk. Did he even come back?”

“Not a clue, man,” Sawyer answered, giving the half-orc a shrug. “When I logged off last night to sleep he was still out.”

“Hrm,” Ransom grunted. “Why would he stay out all night?”

“Uh, maybe because he wanted to sleep in?” Sawyer stated, his eyes drifting up to look at me apologetically. “Aldford hasn’t been exactly…quiet the last couple days. All that hammering as soon as the sun comes up…”

“Hey, don’t look at me,” I replied a bit defensively, hearing Amaranth croak in agreement with the dark-haired warrior. “That’s all Jenkins’s and Léandre’s show.”

“Hrm, sure, and you’re not the one pulling their strings?” Ransom mused in a disbelieving tone which quickly morphed into a chuckle. “Anyway, do you need Lazarus for something specific? Or can we pass a message on when he gets back?”

“Well, I had a couple questions about his feed,” I said simply, deciding that this wasn’t the best place to get into all of the details. “I finally had a chance to finish watching your…adventure, then I looked at a few others out in Eberia after that. Things are getting to be a bit rough back there.”

“Oh yeah?” Sawyer queried, giving me a curious look. “What did you see?”

“A lot,” I replied vaguely, turning my head to indicate the room, which was full of adventurers getting ready for the day. “I don’t suppose you two would mind helping me track Lazarus down? We have a guild meeting planned later in the day today, and I have a couple of things I’d like to talk to you guys about before then.”

“Uh, okay,” Ransom said slowly, his eyes following my gaze and then turning to glance at Sawyer. “We’re just about done here anyway.”

With that, the pair finished their meals and followed Amaranth and I back out of the hall, a thundering cacophony of pounding hammers, shouting voices, and rasping saws crashing into us as if it were a physical blow. The serene and quiet mornings that had once been typical of Aldford had finally come to an end over the last couple days, replaced with the sound of heavy industry and labor the moment that the sun broke the horizon. Unsure how long our lull in the war with the Dread Crew would last, Léandre and Jenkins had refused to take our increase in available manpower for granted, setting brutal workdays for everyone who could work a tool or lift something heavy.

<Would that the sound of this racket deter our enemies by itself,> Amaranth said to me via our mental link as we passed through Aldford and towards the northern entrance, the sound of the construction enveloping us completely. <For if it doesn’t, I am tempted to put a claw to my ears to find some measure of peace.>

<You and about everyone else,> I replied, full well appreciating the cat’s perspective as his impression of the noise filtered over our enhanced link, giving me a sense of how it was for him and his  comparatively enhanced hearing. <But maybe you don’t need to be that drastic. We have enough planned for the day to keep us busy.>

<Which becomes a chore when one cannot sleep in peace,> Amaranth retorted with a mental grumble, prompting a smile to cross my face. <Perhaps I should keep Lazarus company if he sleeps outside our den.>

<Perhaps,> I told the cat, despite feeling a little uneasy about the fact that Lazarus had apparently spent the night outside the town without telling Sawyer or Ransom that he was going to do so.

Maybe he really is burning out? I thought, worried that if the man’s friends weren’t in the loop of his state of mind that there could be something really wrong. I guess we’ll need to see when we find him.

Putting that train of thought to the side for the moment, I found my attention being caught by the partially complete palisade as we approached the town’s edge, our path taking us right under a collection of wooden framework and scaffolding that would one day soon become a reinforced gate.

Assuming of course that everything goes to plan, I thought as we emerged from the other side, the construction noise beginning to fade away behind us.

“So. What’s going on, Lyrian?” Ransom was the first to ask once we’d managed to leave the town behind, the four of us finally able to hear one another clearly as well as have some privacy for ourselves.

“Oh, you know, just the world moving along without us…” I began, going on to give the pair a quick outline of everything that Peter, Misha, and I had found yesterday. “…and that’s where we are now.”

“Huh,” Sawyer grunted, glancing over at me after my explanation with a wide-eyed expression. “Shit.”

“You could say that again,” Ransom breathed softly, his voice sounding a bit pained. “We had no idea Graves was involved.”

“To be fair, you didn’t even know about Graves back then,” I stated, waving a hand dismissively through the air. “Again, assuming in the first place that it’s really him at all. We really can’t be certain.”

“So you said,” Sawyer noted with a sigh, the conversation shifting as the two of them began to ask me questions about what was happening in Eberia while we continued to walk towards wherever Lazarus had gone for the morning.

Doing my best to answer what questions I could, the journey passed by quickly, both Sawyer and Ransom leading me to a familiar overlook that hung over Crater Lake, giving us a perfect view of the horizon, which was broken up by the two mountains far in the distance. Pausing to take in the sight, I shifted my gaze downward, spotting Lazarus sitting at the very edge of the outcropping with his feet hanging into nothingness. Making no motion to acknowledge our arrival, Lazarus, however, remained fixed and motionless, his head inclined downward as if he were staring down into the lake below.

“Morning, Lazarus,” I called out gently, hoping not to startle the man if he was simply lost in thought and hadn’t heard us approach. But instead of turning to react to our presence, the man continued to sit motionless, his body not moving a single inch. Giving the others a strange look, I decided to try again, pitching my voice a bit louder. “Hey, are you okay, Lazarus?”

Once again there was no response, nor movement.

“Um…” I trailed off, this time turning to look at Sawyer and Ransom with a raised eyebrow, wondering if I’d somehow offended the man unknowingly to cause him to ignore me.

“Gav! What’s going on?” Sawyer called out, his voice sounding slightly annoyed as he walked up towards the man. “Ransom and I are here too! Why are you—”

Sawyer stopped mid-sentence as he reached Lazarus’s side, his head glancing down at something in the man’s lap.

“Oh, what the hell is this?” I heard him mutter as he turned to look back towards us, his eyes wide with concern. “Guys, I think there might be something wrong here. Lazarus looks like he’s in a…trance or something, and his sword is looking a bit weird too.”

“His sword?” I asked, momentarily confused as I moved towards the seated man, my question answering itself as I arrived at his side. Clutched by the hilt in a single hand and set across his lap was Lazarus’s glass-steel sword, which now pulsed with a faint crimson light, his free hand resting flat on top of the blade. A glance showed me that his eyes were open but completely glazed over, the man otherwise completely unconscious in a seated position.

“Damn, something sure isn’t right,” I said worriedly, grabbing one of Lazarus’s arms and motioning for Sawyer to do the same on the other side. “We’ll take him backward slowly, then put him on his back. Watch that sword too as we move.”

Pulling on the man, we easily dragged Lazarus from the edge of the overlook, his body not resisting our efforts in the slightest. Reaching a safe distance from the edge, we then set the man down, my eyes shooting downwards towards the sword in hand, which he had stubbornly held onto.

“I’ve never seen the sword do that before,” Ransom stated as he and Amaranth joined both Sawyer and me on the ground, the four of us staring at the pulsing sword in Lazarus’s hand. “I know that he finally finished feeding it experience and awoke it during the battle in the Twilight Grove, but he didn’t say anything else about it to me.”

“Me either,” I replied, having gotten Lazarus to show me the weapon after the tumultuous events in the Twilight Grove and how he’d been able to coat the blade in flames for short periods at a time. Wondering if something had changed with the sword, I focused my attention on it a little bit more intently, seeing a tag appear with its description.

Awoken Glass-Steel Greatsword

Slot: Main Hand and Offhand

Item Class: Relic

Item Quality: Mythical (+30%)

Damage: 90-120 (Slashing)

Strength: +28

Durability: 200/200

Base Material: Glass-Steel

Weight: 2 kg

Class: Any Martial

Level: 22

Special: Evolving Weapon – Stage 2 – Attunement

“Shit, something’s changed with it alright,” I said, after skimming through the item’s description, not recalling seeing the “attunement” stage of the evolving weapon before today. “It looks like Lazarus’s unlocked a new stage of the sword.”

“Well, he picked a great place to do it,” Sawyer muttered with a shake of his head as he and I both reached out to grasp Lazarus’s hand that was holding the hilt of the sword, peeling the fingers away one by one. Fighting an iron grip, it took us several seconds to get the hilt free of the man’s grasp, but no sooner did the last finger touching the hilt come free did the light within the sword vanish and Lazarus’s eyes return to life.

“Ugh,” he groaned weakly, staring up at both Sawyer and me blankly. “Sawyer? Lyrian? What…how…”

“I think that’s what we’re supposed to be asking,” I said, leaning back to give Lazarus some room. “What happened, man? Were you here all night?”

“I…shit. Is it morning already?” Lazarus asked, blinking his eyes as if he were coming out of a deep sleep. “Damn, it is.”

“We just found you now,” Sawyer said. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to try and do something like this with your sword?”

“Because I didn’t think that it was going to put me out,” Lazarus answered wearily, lying still for several seconds before pushing himself upward into a seated position, mindful of the sword that still rested on his lap. “I thought that this next stage was going to be something simple to unlock.”

“Riiight,” I said, drawing the word out slowly. “And when was anything ever simple in this game?”

“Okay…chalk that up to hindsight, then,” Lazarus replied in a tired voice as he gently grabbed the hilt of his sword and placed it in the dirt beside him, clearly not afraid of the weapon despite whatever it had done to him. “I’ll know better for next time at least.”

“Next time?” Ransom queried with a scowl on his face. “How about you finish telling us what happened this time?”

“Well,” Lazarus began, pausing as he pushed himself off the ground and into a standing position, his balance appearing unsteady. “You all know how before I had to feed the sword experience, right? And that it’s an evolving weapon that is supposed to scale with me as I level?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, recalling my envy the first time that I’d seen the man’s weapon—and wishing that I had been able to have something similar. “I remember.”

“Right,” Lazarus stated, visibly steadying himself before bending down to pick the sword up from the ground, holding it carefully in both of his hands. “So it turns out that was the first step in unlocking whatever this weapon is capable of. A few days ago, I felt something about the sword start to…change, for lack of a better word.”

“Change?” Sawyer asked, his eyes darting from the sword to Lazarus’s face. “Change how?”

“That’s the thing,” the half-giant replied, his attention focused on the weapon in his hands. “I can’t explain it, but something started to feel different about the sword. Like there was something inside of it just beyond reach. Then a couple days ago, right after our big battle on the plains, I got a notification about a second stage to its evolution, saying that I had to somehow attune myself to the weapon, whatever that means exactly.”

“Let me get this straight. Your magic sword that is clearly special somehow, started to feel weird and different, so your first thought afterward was to run off somewhere to let it eat your soul or something without telling anyone,” Sawyer said in a sarcastic tone while rolling his eyes at Lazarus. “Do you guys ever feel like our lives have become something out of a bad fantasy pulp novel since we started playing this game?”

“You know, now that you mention it,” Ransom said, raising a hand to stroke his chin thoughtfully.

“I know, I know,” Lazarus acknowledged, raising his hands in surrender. “It wasn’t exactly the smartest idea, but I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”

“Eh,” I said with a dismissive wave of a hand. “Doesn’t look like it hurt you. Did you at least finish that attunement thing before we woke you up?”

“No,” Lazarus replied with a shake of his head. “I think I might have done it wrong, to be honest, or I might not be high enough leveled yet.”

“Or it might take longer than a night to attune,” I suggested, knowing that there were easily a dozen more potential answers for what Lazarus needed to do in order to continue evolving his weapon. “Do you remember anything at all from when you were trying to attune with it?”

“Not really, to be honest,” the half-giant replied. “Just a vague feeling that I was walking through somewhere dark, almost like I was searching for something but couldn’t find it.”

“Huh,” I mused, wondering what that could mean. “So much for an easy clue.”

“Yeah, no dice there,” Lazarus agreed in a wistful tone as he moved to sheath his sword, his face shifting into an apologetic expression. “Well, at any rate, I’m sorry to have worried you guys for the morning. I really didn’t expect this to happen. I was just looking for a quiet place to sort this all out in private.”

“Neither did we when we came looking for you,” Sawyer snorted. “But now that we’ve actually found you, we actually have our own things to bring you up to speed on.”

“Oh?” Lazarus’s asked, an eyebrow rising in curiosity. “Did something happen overnight with Carver?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I prepared to retell my story once again. “We’re planning a guild meeting later on tonight to lay out our plan for the next few days, and I wanted to have a chance to run a few things by you three first…since a big piece of it could affect you guys.”

The next few minutes after that were filled with me catching Lazarus up to where I’d left Sawyer and Ransom, the pair waiting patiently in the process. As I continued with my explanation, I noticed his face tighten as I brought up the state of Eberia, any lingering thoughts that he might have had about the mystery of his sword abruptly vanishing.

“So with all of that going on now in Eberia,” I said, wrapping up my speech, “we want to use your feed to help raise awareness from a meta-perspective and possibly get more players heading back to the city, either to mess with whatever plans this mystery player has, assuming he’s not Graves, and get the nobles to fall into line. But in order to do that…”

“You need my permission,” Lazarus stated, crossing his arms as he considered my request.

“I think it’s a good idea, Lazarus,” Sawyer volunteered. “Plus, if we can get the feed out, maybe Molly and Quinn will see it and reach out to us back in reality. Then at least we can figure out what happened to them.”

“That thought did cross my mind too,” I admitted in as gentlest a tone as I could manage, having heard weeks ago from Sawyer and Ransom that they’d been split up from the rest of their party. But it hadn’t been until I’d watched the full chain of events until I realized the full scope of what had happened, or how it had affected Lazarus. “We can have our producer maybe include a message if you want or just filter for and pass along any emails that they get.”

There was a few seconds of silence as Lazarus processed our statements, a brief flicker of hope flashing in his eyes before it vanished, his expression hardening.

“Do you think you actually have that much reach with your feed to make a difference?” he asked in a disbelieving tone. “Because as much as I want to believe this, it all sounds like a pipedream at best. You’d be betting Eberia on wishes and prayers.”

“Honestly, wishes and prayers are about all we have right now,” I replied. “This lull we have with Carver isn’t going to last, not long at any rate, which is why we’re looking at each and every option we have available to us.”

“Well, I’ve only heard of one option so far,” Lazarus said. “What else is up your sleeve?”

“Sending the three of you back to Eberia,” I answered, offering the group a thin smile. “You guys have been wanting to go back home, right? Well, here’s your chance.”

“Send us back?” Sawyer said slowly, completely surprised by my statement and the fact that I hadn’t mentioned it earlier. “Wait, but what about all this stuff with Carver?”

“Forget Carver, what about Stanton?” Ransom interjected. “He’s barely even said two words to us since everything in the grove went down. Will he even let us leave?”

“I don’t see why not,” I replied, turning my head to look at the warlock. “With the ley line now fixed and this whole crisis he brought to our doorstep resolved, he has no real reason to keep you here. Especially not if I point out to him that I need to send you three to Coldscar to recruit more adventurers to help us out here. Not to mention, we should probably let Marshal Tarius know that we’ve encountered orcs again too; there’s really no telling what they might be up to.”

“That is a good point on both accounts, but on that note, have you guys finally found players worth inviting?” Lazarus asked, having been kept in the loop of that particular part of our long-term goals.

“Two guilds’ worth,” I replied, nodding at the man. “We’ve managed to reach out to them about a meeting, but the timing sucks a bit. Earliest chance we have to talk isn’t going to be for a few days. Hopefully, once we do connect, we’ll be able to officially extend an invite and see where things go. That said though, if we can send you guys along ahead of time, then we can at least keep Aldwin, Veronia, and the other NPCs in Aldford in the loop without their meta-game filters kicking in.”

“Huh, I’d forgotten about that,” Ransom grunted, looking down towards Amaranth who had curled himself into a ball by my feet, completely ignoring the conversation so far. “Do you really think that’d make a big difference though about them knowing how we’re recruiting adventurers?”

“I do,” I said, giving the half-orc a nod as I followed his eyes. “In fact, I tested it by telling Aldwin this morning that I suspected that Graves might be involved in something in Eberia. All he gave me in response was a blank stare before changing the subject to our construction efforts.”

“Oh,” Ransom replied, a frown creeping over his face. “So much for that, then.”

“Hm,” Lazarus mused, making a thoughtful sound as he took a few moments to think. “All right, color me interested about going back. But tell me, what does your end game look like here? And what exactly would you want us to do about all this shit happening in the city?”

“Fix it?” I asked with a hopeful tone. “From the latest feeds that we saw, which I might add, are already ten days old, the nobles were at one another’s throats, the king is off doing who knows what in the palace, and the military has next to no support in Coldscar. If that keeps up and Eberia stays divided, any war with the Ascendancy, or a civil war for that matter, is going to be a brutally short and violent one.”

“And not in our favor long-term,” I added after a few seconds of silence. “Because if Eberia falls, Aldford is going to end up isolated and alone, which I doubt is going to work out long term.”

“That’s…a pretty tall order, Lyrian,” Ransom said, his tone sounding wary as he spoke. “If what you’ve told us is true, then they’re already one step shy of civil war, if not already there. Assuming we even could do anything, we could easily cause things to spin out of control and get even worse.”

“It’s already spinning out of control,” I told the half-orc flatly. “Right now, I’m looking at this as damage control and a way to stop that spiral, because if we can’t find a way to get things moving in a better direction…we’re in trouble.

“The only bit of good news that I can offer is that House Denarius doesn’t seem to be involved in any of the shit that’s plaguing Eberia right now,” I continued, turning my head towards Lazarus. “From everything I’ve heard and seen in your feed, and the others I’ve watched, they’ve managed to stay clear of the trouble.”

“Of course they have,” Lazarus said, his face turning into a scowl. “That’s because they’re focused on their own agenda. They’ve never cared about what’s happening to the common folk of Eberia.”

“Be that as it may, they seem to be the only major faction in the city that isn’t focused on making things worse,” I replied, meeting his gaze. “And we hardly have the luxury of being picky.”

“Lyrian is right, Lazarus,” Sawyer chimed in softly. “If things are really this bad…and we do this, we’re going to need help. That’s going to mean going back to Emilia and getting her to own up to her deal and free the Grim Shadows. Then we’re going to need to get more players involved too, because sure as hell, we’re not going to be able to manage all of this with just the three of us.”

“I know,” Lazarus said, giving the dark-haired man a nod before turning to look back towards me. “Are you sure you realize what you’re asking for here, Lyrian? Sorting this mess out in Eberia isn’t going to be as simple as getting people to sit down and talk. It’s going to take something drastic, something violent. Eberia might not be the same after it.”

“I know,” I replied in a hard tone, not looking away from Lazarus as I spoke. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Chapter 10

“All right, guys, this shouldn’t take too long to sort out,” Constantine announced, his eyes moving between Lazarus, Sawyer, and Ransom as he spoke. “In…uh, anticipation of your agreement, Lyrian and I here preemptively laid some groundwork yesterday to make this as smooth as possible. All we’re going to need to do is have a quick chat with our producer, electronically sign some papers, then transfer over your feeds to the studio. So, an hour, maybe two tops if you have questions or anything along the way.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Lazarus assured, biting through a yawn as he spoke. “Just give me the chance to throw back a cup of coffee or two and we’ll get this sorted out.”

“Works for me,” Constantine replied. “Okay, if no one else has anything else to add, we can log off and regroup in reality. I’ll call each of you in let’s say…ten minutes then?”

“Sounds good,” Sawyer acknowledged, Ransom chiming in with the same reply a second after.

With that, the four of them all logged off from Ascend Online, the expressions on their avatars going blank for the briefest of instants before their offline task lists took over, sending the quartet walking in the direction of the crafting hall.

“I guess that leaves you and me,” I said to Amaranth, the cat having been mostly silent throughout the day, all of the out-of-character and meta conversation this morning being wiped away by the in-game filters.

<So it seems,> he said, glancing up at me with an azure-colored eye. <What other tasks do we have for the day?>

“Biggest thing for the day is interrogating our new guests and seeing how they’re liking our hospitality so far,” I replied, motioning for him to follow me as we walked through the noise that consumed Aldford. “But first, I want to check in on Caius to see if he’s found those spell scrolls we were looking for. Then we should fill in Stanton about our plans to send Lazarus back to Eberia to make sure that he’s on board.”

<A wise plan,> Amaranth replied thoughtfully. <Perhaps while you interrogate the interlopers, I can enjoy a nap in the sun someplace.>

“Or maybe I can volunteer you to Léandre and have you help pull something heavy and give our poor horses a rest,” I countered, watching the cat’s eyes shoot up towards me and narrow, an unamused growl sounding out a second later.

Laughing at the reaction, I let the matter drop as we walked through Aldford to where I knew I’d find Caius, my mind filtering through the morning’s events so far. It hadn’t taken long to bring Lazarus up to speed with our plan once I’d broached the subject—and hardly any effort after that to convince him and the others to head back to Eberia. All three of them had eagerly jumped on the near impossible task that I’d presented them with, provided that I could clear the way for them with Stanton.

Something that I had to admit, if only to myself, that I may have slightly oversold to the trio, not knowing in the slightest of how the spy might react.

Oh well, I thought with a mental shrug, realizing that the moment had already passed, and I was committed. I’ll just have to figure something out if he pushes back.

Moving quickly, it didn’t take long for Amaranth and me to reach our destination—a rough and unremarkable cabin on edge of the town’s square. It was one of the few original buildings in Aldford that still stood, many of the others having been torn down or so extensively remodeled that they were more new than old. Walking up to the building, I didn’t break my stride as I put a foot up onto the wooden step leading inside, my hand reaching up towards the door in front of me.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on! Sto—” Caius’s panicked voice shouted out from the behind the door as I pushed it open, feeling it bump into something hard halfway and immediately stop, which was promptly followed by a loud shout and thud, followed by the sound of countless falling objects hitting the floor. Lasting for several seconds, the avalanche of noise seemingly refused to stop before finally beginning to taper away, ending in an eerie silence that had me staring down at Amaranth beside me, the cat’s eyes just as wide as mine.

“Uh,” I started, holding the door in place, stunned by the noise that I’d just heard. “Are you okay in there, Caius?”

“Ugh…Lyr,” a pained moan echoed back at me in response. “Did…did any of that sound okay to you? Oh, ow…we really need to get a ‘knock first’ sign made up…”

“I’m sorry, man, I had no idea!” I called back as apologetically as I could. “Can I come in now?”

“Please, by all means,” Caius answered testily amid the sound of rustling before it stopped. “Shit, on second thought, I think I need help. I’m stuck under all this crap.”

“Oh, boy,” I said with a sigh as I began to push the door open again, only to have it stop once more after moving an inch. “Give me a second.”

Putting my shoulder into the door I slowly forced it open, the sound of something heavy scraping across the floor in the process. After some work, I eventually managed to get it open wide enough that I thought I’d be able to squeeze my thin frame through. A quick peek inside though told me that there was no way a large cat like Amaranth had any hope of getting through.

“Looks like you’re going to have to wait out here,” I said, turning myself sideways to fit through the entranceway, seeing my familiar backing away from the door warily. “Things are looking a little cramped in here…”

<A pity,> my familiar replied with undisguised relief in his mental voice. <I will observe from the window and perhaps summon help should this den collapse upon you.>

“That’s probably a good idea,” I said to the cat, seeing him walk up to one of the windows on the side of the cabin, bringing himself up to peer inside, placing his paws on either side of it for support. Shaking my head at the sight, I sucked in a deep breath and turned to squeeze my way through the door…and into chaos.

“Oh, geez…” I whispered under my breath as I took a look around the cabin, its appearance now a stark contrast to what I had remembered the last time I’d been in it. Back then it had essentially been a large four-walled room that we’d decided to repurpose after its original inhabitants had moved out of town, the family choosing to start a much-needed farmstead to the west. In the time that had passed, the once-cozy home had undergone a drastic transformation as it was pressed into service for the one thing that had yet been missing from Aldford—an arcane laboratory.

Granted, the rustic cabin was far from what I’d envisioned an arcane laboratory to actually be, but it was the best place that we had available to us for the time being. In my mind, I’d planned to see the place filled with a few workbenches, magical tools, and whatever other things were needed to research all the artifacts that we’d pulled from the Naffarian ruins below us. At a glance around the cabin, however, it seemed that somewhere along the way, Caius, Halcyon, and the other mages had interpreted that vision as “cram the cabin with every single magical or potentially magical scrap of Nafarrian technology that we have, with no consideration for how a person can move around.”

“Are you even coming, Lyr?” Caius’s voice filtered up from the floor on the opposite side of the cabin, snapping me out of my dazed inspection of the room. “Because this is starting to really hurt.”

“Uh, sorry, I was just appreciating what you guys have done with the place. Hang on a second,” I said, shaking my head in bewilderment at the mess that I was standing in as I moved to close the door I’d entered through, giving me a clear view of a stack of boxes that had tipped over, along with one of Caius’s booted feet sticking up into the air. “Okay, I think I see you.”

Shuffling over as best as I could in the cluttered space, I made my way over towards the disaster that I’d caused and slowly began to dig the mage out, seeing Amaranth’s all too smug expression watching me through the nearby window. Pointedly ignoring the cat, I began to shift the fallen boxes into the space that I’d vacated, feeling like I was trapping myself inside with each one I moved.

“Ugh, what did you even put into these things?” I grunted as I heaved a particularly heavy crate off Caius’s leg, feeling my arms strain under the weight. “Stone?”

“Uh, yeah in some of them actually,” Caius answered, breathing a sigh of relief as I moved the box. “We disassembled or cut out everything we could from the ruin and brought it up. This was some of the last stuff we had to move.”

“Great.” I grunted as I dragged another crate free. “You know, if we really need to have all this stuff handy, we’re going to need a bigger place than this.”

“I said the same thing to Léandre the other day,” Caius said amid a rustle of noise, the warlock finally having enough room to pull himself free of his temporary prison. “His response was to assign me a plot of land and hand me a bunch of surveying tools. The implication was pretty clear.”

“‘Do it yourself.’” I snorted before looking out towards the rest of the cabin, shaking my head at the mess. “Well…not that you can really tell, but I guess I’m sorry about messing things up. I just finished up with Lazarus and figured I’d come by to help you look for those spell scrolls that we were talking about last night. Hopefully, we’ll be able to finally read them by now.”

“Oh? How’d everything go with Lazarus?” Caius asked eagerly at my mention of the half-giant and his group, simultaneously turning to look to his right with a thoughtful expression on his face. “And about those scrolls, I actually found their tube a few minutes ago and set them to the side, uh…somewhere over here. Or maybe it was there…”

“He and the others are completely on board. Constantine is sorting their feeds and stuff out right now,” I replied happily, watching the dark elf shuffle around his side of the room as he searched for the aforementioned tube of scrolls that had escaped all of our collective memory.

Originally part of our haul from the Irovian tower months earlier, the scrolls that we were looking for were among the collection of spells that we’d found. At the time, though, we’d only been able to identify the spells contained in five of the six tubes that we’d found, the others being too high of a level for us to read. Over the weeks that followed, we’d all ended up forgetting about the spells as the new settlers arrived in Aldford and the ruptured ley line in the Twilight Grove became our center focus, followed by the war immediately after. It wasn’t until yesterday while I was skimming through our feed with Graves that I’d spotted the tube in a scene and wondered if we’d finally be able to make sense of them now.

Assuming, of course, that we could even find them in the first place.

“Did they? That’s great!” Caius exclaimed as he picked up a stack of papers that I recognized as bearing Donovan’s writing and looked under them, shaking his head with a frown. “Damn, not there…where could they have—oh!”

Dropping papers unceremoniously back onto the pile that he’d lifted them from, Caius spun around before dropping down into a crouch, vanishing out of sight for several seconds. Hearing a brief grunt, the warlock then reappeared, this time holding a vaguely familiar tube with a triumphant expression on his face.

“Found it!” he exclaimed with a smile. “Forgot I kicked it under the table after I tripped over it earlier.”

“Uh-huh,” I grunted, watching Caius shuffle over to me as he stepped over something else out of sight. “Did you guys ever think that you need a new organizational system by chance?”

“Psh, it’s not so bad,” Caius said with a shake of his head before indicating a section of the room with his chin. “I know exactly where everything is in my corner of the cabin. It’s this side that keeps getting new stuff added to it.”

“I’m sure,” I replied in a disbelieving tone as I glanced over to the area and noticed that it was even more cluttered than any of the others. “How about we take a look at these scrolls, and then maybe I can escape from here because I’m starting to feel a little bit claustrophobic and afraid that I’m going to get crushed by something.”

“Oh, you’ll be fine,” Caius said dismissively as he set the container down on the table between us and opened it, accidentally using its edge to knock a pile of bone ætherscopes to the side which promptly rolled out of sight. “Just don’t bump into anything that looks precarious.”

“That describes literally everything in this cabin,” I replied with a wince as I heard something on the far end of the table hit the floor, Caius not even bothering to look and see what it was.

Mustering all my willpower, I forced myself to concentrate on what I’d come here for as the warlock pulled out a thick roll of papers that had been bundled tightly together. Settling them on the table, he undid a piece of string keeping them contained and unfurled them as best he could on the uneven surface. Reaching out, we each grabbed two topmost scrolls without comment and began to read over the arcane symbols inscribed on them, which to my immediate excitement were no longer the indecipherable mess that they’d once been.

Flameburst

Type: Spell

Learnable By: Any Arcane

Duration: Instant

Range: Melee

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 25

Mana Cost: 300

Description: You call a burning burst of flame to erupt outward from your palm, bathing everything before you in flames.

Effect: Exploding outwards from your hand, a blazing inferno of flames and ash sear everything in an arc before you, dealing 250-375 points of Fire Damage. Furthermore, any target afflicted by this spell will be temporarily blinded by ash.

“Whoa! I can’t believe we’ve been sitting on something like this all this time!” I exclaimed, my eyes widening as I read over the spell scroll. “It’s a level twenty-five spell!”

“Shit, are you serious? And here I thought this one was going to be a prize,” Caius said to me in disbelief, waving the scroll that he had in his hand. “Trade me?”

“Sure,” I replied, handing over the spell scroll to the warlock and taking his in turn. Glancing down at the spell scroll, I began to read through the arcane symbols, eventually deciphering the spell it contained.

Arcane Chains

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Learnable By: Any Arcane

Duration: Instant

Range: 15 feet

Arcane Tree: Conjuration

Spell Mastery: Conjuration – Level 20

Mana Cost: 200

Description: You conjure a set of magical chains that whip through the air, wrapping themselves around your target’s legs, slowing their movements and possibly immobilizing them for a short period of time.

Effect: When cast, this spell creates a set of magical chains around your target’s legs and attempts to keep them from moving, slowing their movement speed by up to 25% or potentially immobilizing them for the next 5 seconds.

“Oh, man! You weren’t kidding!” I exclaimed as I finished reading the spell scroll, my hand trembling slightly as I noted that any arcane-based class could learn the spell. “This spell is awesome too!”

“Neither were you!” Caius replied, shaking his head from side to side as he stared at the spell. “Damn, I feel like an idiot for not thinking to check this tube sooner after our run of levels in the Twilight Grove. The last time I think I looked at it, I was maybe level fourteen, right before we went into the ruins. They were all still unreadable then.”

“Which must have been just shy of the skill level needed to read them,” I said, shaking my head as I glanced back towards the other spells still sitting on the table. “My Evocation skill is level twenty-three, and I can read this level twenty-five spell scroll, which means there’s at least a two-level gap in understanding, though I imagine it’s probably a bit larger than that in practice.”

“I’d agree with that too,” Caius said as he scanned over the spell. “Judging by how the game has been so far with things, I’d guess that it’s closer to four or five skill level gap before the scroll becomes readable. Not that it really matters now I guess.”

“No,” I agreed, pausing for a second to process the sudden bounty of spells. “Speaking of these spells though, I’m calling first dibs on this one in particular.”

“Ha, I figured you would,” Caius said with a chuckle. “A slow and rooting spell is exactly what an already highly mobile spellsword needs to round out their abilities.”

“Well, yeah, it kinda is,” I replied. “Blink Step is great for closing the distance, but I can only use that every so often, and it’s not like I have any ranged damage abilities either. Besides, it’s labeled ‘any arcane’ so pretty much all of our casters will be able to learn it.”

“That is a good point,” Caius commented as we looked back towards the pile of spell scrolls on the table and back at one another. “Ready to see what else we have here?”

“And how,” I replied eagerly as we temporarily put our scrolls down to the side and began to sift through the pile, discovering that it contained four other spells that we could finally read. Feeling another burst of excitement hit us, we then split the spells in half between us, the descriptions of the two that I had taken flashing in front of my vision.

Blink Strike

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Learnable By: Spellsword

Duration: Instant

Range: 40 feet

Arcane Tree: Alteration

Spell Mastery: Alteration - Level 25

Mana Cost: 220

Description: You vanish from one place and reappear nearby, with your weapon charged with arcane energy and ready to strike.

Effect: You can instantly travel up to 40 feet in any direction that you have line of sight to, reappearing with your weapon charged with arcane power. Any attack made after using Blink Strike deals Weapon Damage +100. Minor intervening obstacles such as people, creatures, or light foliage will not impede the spell. Other obstacles will cause the spell to fail.

Arcane Shield

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Learnable By: Any Arcane

Duration: 30 seconds

Range: Self

Arcane Tree: Conjuration

Spell Mastery: Conjuration - Level 25

Mana Cost: 450

Description: Suffusing your aura with a surge of raw mana, you temporarily create a potent protective shield around yourself, protecting you from harm.

Effect: Create a temporary damage shield around you that lasts for up to 30 seconds or until it absorbs up to 500 points of damage. Due to the ætherial imbalance that this spell creates in your aura after casting, this spell can only be cast once every five minutes.

“Wow,” I said as I finished reading the two spells, my heart already racing in my chest as pulled my eyes away from the arcane symbols and looked towards Caius. “I have a Blink Strike here for spellswords and an Arcane Shield for all arcane spellcasters. They’re both as awesome as they sound.”

“And I have a Create Greater Ward for mages here,” the warlock added, his eyes scanning over one of the scrolls he held in his hand. “Halcyon and the others are going to love this one. It looks heaps more useful and versatile than the regular version he and Donovan have been using.”

“That’s great then!” I replied in a cheerful tone as I glanced up from my spells and looked towards the dark elf. “Though I’ll admit I really don’t know much about how wards work in the game here. Since they’re mage-only spells, I’ve just kinda glanced over them. They basically give a warning to the caster if someone passes through them right?”

“That’s what the old one did,” Caius said. “But from the looks of this new one, it’s a fair bit more versatile. The new wards will all now block detection spells from passing through it, plus you can apparently ‘hang’ a handful of spells inside it now to trigger on certain events that you define. If I’m reading this right, you can even link other mages and even items into the wards too now.”

“Huh, well that sounds all kinds of awesome,” I said, instantly recognizing the potential for the spell. “We’ll have to get that thing into Halcyon’s hands and see what more he can tell us.”

“You sure you want to wait?” the warlock asked, waving the spell scroll in his hand. “You can read this over yourself in the meantime.”

“As tempting as that is, I’m so far out of the loop on wards I’d probably misunderstand half of it,” I replied with a shake of my head. “And I also need to get a move on with my day if I’m going to hit everything I need to do. What about your other spell there? Anything interesting for that one?”

“Fair enough then, and let’s see,” Caius said, trailing off as he squinted at the scroll in his left hand his expression suddenly brightening as he finished reading it. “Blood Hex. Well, doesn’t that sound promising? Finally, an outright warlock spell for yours truly!”

“And a rather gruesome sounding one at that,” I replied, making an uneasy face at the man, knowing full well the arsenal of crippling and painful damage over time spells he had at his disposal. “Do I even want to know what it does?”

“Probably not,” he said, flashing me a grin. “But I suddenly can’t wait to find out where the Dread Crew have gone off to test this spell out.”

“I know the feeling,” I said as I glanced down towards the pile of spells, the day suddenly looking much brighter than it had been moments earlier. “Well, I have to admit, this turned out better than I could have hoped for. Sure, I had my fingers crossed for something useful, but not six new spells kind of useful.”

“Me either,” Caius admitted. “But then again, I think we’re long overdue for a string of luck. So I’m not going to complain.”

“Definitely not,” I agreed as I placed the scroll containing Arcane Shield down on the table while holding onto the Blink Strike one. “In either case though, that means we’re going to need to fit in a bit of scribing for the day if we’re going to get these spells into more people’s hands. How does your schedule look for the day? Because I’m not going to lie, I want pretty much all of these.”

“Same here,” the warlock replied in an envious tone. “But as for your question, the day is reasonably open, I have a few things to sort out here then I can sit and start scribing out copies of the spells I can learn. The others you or a mage will have to manage though since I can’t learn them.”

“That’s fine,” I said, more than happy to make the time to scribe the needed spell for the other spellswords in Aldford.

Scribing, or rather making copies of spells that a caster had learned, was something that we’d finally been able to devote a large amount of effort to over the last week, thanks in no small part to Marlin. After having a chance to set up his laboratory, the alchemist had been able to churn out a steady flow of much-needed products for the town—the most important one, in this case, being arcane ink. Relatively cheap to produce, the ink allowed for spellcasters to easily copy out the spells that they’d learned from their spellbooks and onto paper, which could be passed along and learned by others, saving them the need of using valuable class skill points.

Of course, it was still possible to copy the spells out without using the ink, such as Halcyon and I did with the Ritual of Ætherbinding using charcoal, but the downside there was in the durability of the end scroll. Any smudges in transport or mistakes on the scriber’s part risked the chance of ruining the spell entirely, creating a worthless piece of paper. By using the specially prepared for ink, it ensured that not only would the scriber’s symbols appear crisp and clear as they wrote them, but that they would also last through rough handling and long storage.

“I need to do a bit of running around first today before I can sit down,” I went on to say as I mentally outlined my day, trying to see where I could spare a few minutes to write out a few spells. “I was hoping to see if any of our prisoners are feeling talkative yet. A bit of intel in figuring out where Carver’s people have gone would make our lives so much easier. But before then, I need to find Stanton and fill him in on our plans regarding Lazarus and the others. I don’t suppose you’ve happened to have seen him by chance, have you?”

“Only this morning, but you might have luck if you check the town hall,” Caius said to me as he turned to tidy the collection of spell scrolls into a pile. “He, Donovan, and Halcyon brought a load of stuff up earlier today from the ruins, but Hal wanted to do one last sweep while we still had the time. Stanton didn’t seem interested in making a second trek.”

“Wait, you mean, there’s still more down there?” I replied in disbelief as I scanned through the room a second time. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to bring up the runestones.”

“We thought about that, but no,” Caius assured. “They’re just too big to manage. Plus, I don’t think we can even get to the last one by the ley line anymore; the tree’s roots have pretty much taken over everything on that side of the grove.”

“Hrm,” I grunted, not entirely surprised by the news. There’d been quite a lot of æther that had pooled around the outcropping where the third and final runestone had been located on, and the roots had continued to grow steadily even after the ley line was sealed. “Good thing I guess that we made a few copies of that ritual spell before that then.”

“No kidding,” Caius agreed. “Anyway though, the reason that Halcyon went back down was that he was interested in seeing if there was a way to extract that security system that was in the ruin. He thinks he might have found its nexus.”

“Oh? Why?” I asked, feeling a frown come across my face. “That thing is just two steps above broken. I managed to talk circles around it easily.”

“Well, we had an idea that maybe we can figure out how it works and then either fix it or learn how to make another one,” Caius explained. “If we’re ever going to have a hope of getting the translocation hub working again…we’re going to need to replace that Nafarrian AI thing that we were forced to destroy ages ago. Not to mention that it might have other uses down the road too.”

“Huh, I’d completely forgotten about the hub’s original purpose, save for being a raw æther source at least,” I said, having written repairing the place off as a fanciful pipe dream for the foreseeable future. “Getting that up and running…is going to take a lot, assuming it’s even possible at all.”

“Won’t know unless we try, Lyr,” Caius said, despite nodding at me in agreement. “You know the saying, ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’. If we’re going to find a way to make it work, it’s going to be through a bunch of small projects along the way.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Plus, there’s that skill crystal thing I found too,” I added, remembering the strange Nafarrian shard that we’d found after defeating the shoggoth. I was still in the early stages of absorbing it, a process that was going to take a couple more weeks, but once I finished it, it promised to be a treasure trove of information and knowledge.

“That too,” Caius said. “I was actually going to ask how much longer was left on that before it finished.”

“Still a while,” I replied, the completion date having burned itself into my mind. “Final day will be April twenty-seventh.”

“Ages away,” Caius mused, pausing thoughtfully for a few seconds before giving me a shrug. “Anyway, that’s our dream at least. We’ll have to see what comes of it in the end.”

“Fingers crossed, and be sure to keep me in the loop,” I replied, already thinking of the possibilities of what we could use a vaguely sentient magical AI for. “In the meantime, though, I need to get moving with my day. Maybe I can stick the scribing in somewhere along the way. Save me a copy of those four spells I can use?”

“Yeah, for sure. I’ll set some aside for you,” Caius promised. “In the meantime though, good luck with Stanton and the prisoners if I don’t see you before then.”

“Thanks, though hopefully things will go smooth on both accounts,” I replied as I slowly turned in place, trying not to knock anything over as I moved. “But before I go, I have one last question.”

“Sure, what’s up?” Caius asked curiously, his eyes following my hands as I motioned towards the boxes I’d stacked in front of the door, now blocking us both in.

“How do I get out of here?”

Chapter 11

Feeling like we were starting to spend our day walking in circles, Amaranth and I returned to the town hall, this time cutting straight through the now nearly empty main room and making our way upstairs. Based on what Caius had told me, I knew that there were two likely places that Stanton would be if he’d returned to the town hall. The first of those being his room, which I immediately dismissed given the time of day, leaving the second place the most likely location to find him.

That place, in particular, being Samuel’s room.

Taking in a deep breath as Amaranth and I reached the upper floor, I felt a heavy weight settle on my heart as I forced myself to continue walking towards the room in question, the door slightly ajar for airflow. Crossing the distance, I gently pushed the door open and looked inside, catching sight of Stanton sitting at a small desk on the far side of the room, barely an arm’s length away from a large bed that faced an open window.

“Morning,” I greeted him quietly, seeing the elder noble turn in his seat to look in my direction, our eyes meeting briefly before I turned to look towards the prone figure that was lying in the bed. “How’s he doing today?”

Propped up amid a pile of pillows and blankets lay the sleeping form of Samuel, one of the two mages that we had rescued from the Irovian tower two months earlier and even more recently, from Carver’s attack on the Twilight Grove. It was during that attack that Samuel had been badly injured, losing both of his legs in the process. But as tragic as the loss of limbs were, it was the other casualties that we’d suffered in the attack that had affected Samuel the most, with the most important being the death of his friend, Quincy. Ever since then, Samuel had fallen into a near-catatonic depression that he had yet to break out of, spending the last few days asleep, regardless of what was going on around him and ignoring our best efforts to wake him.

“Little change,” Stanton said by way of greeting, a faint hint of emotion entering the otherwise stoic noble’s tone as he spoke. “His color has cleared over the last few days, but beyond that, he has yet to wake.”

“I see,” I replied with a sigh, having hoped, but truthfully not expected, better news as Amaranth and I fully entered the room, the cat making a beeline for the open window at the foot of the bed.

“Yet we must continue to hold faith,” Stanton told me in a firm voice as I moved to sit in a second chair by the side of the bed. “In my years, I have seen countless others pull through battle shock much worse than his. He just needs the time for his mind to heal.”

“I hope so,” I said, turning to look at the sleeping form of Samuel, the man’s face having visibly lost a substantial amount of weight since his injury. “We’ve suffered enough losses since this all began.”

“That we certainly have,” Stanton said softly, the room falling silent briefly before he continued. “It is my hope that once Samuel wakes again and we tell him of our more recent successes, that it will help change his mood for the better.”

“I have no doubt it will,” I agreed, the pall that had been hanging over the room fading away in light of Stanton’s optimism. Sitting silently, I stared at Samuel for a few moments longer before turning my attention towards Stanton. “Speaking of successes though, the others and I have come up with a tentative plan moving forward. However, there is one piece of it that I was hoping to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Stanton queried, eyebrow raised as he turned to look back towards me. “What is it?”

“Lazarus and his group,” I said, readying myself for resistance from the masquerading spy as I brought up the subject. “It’s no secret that they are…less than enthused to be here.”

“I believe that they have made that opinion fairly clear on multiple occasions, yes,” Stanton stated, the tone of his voice betraying nothing to me about what was on his mind. “What about it?”

“Well,” I said, pausing for a moment to collect my thoughts. “In light of that, and the recent lull we’ve found ourselves in, we’re considering taking advantage of this opportunity and sending them back to Eberia, or more specifically, to Coldscar and then Eberia. However, considering that they arrived with you under, let’s just say, extenuating circumstances…”

“You are concerned that I would take offense and resist you attempting to send away what you or others perceive as being my cover’s bodyguards,” the spy finished, his tone completely even as he spoke.

“Essentially,” I replied, the man having expertly summed up my concerns in an instant.

“Then rest assured that you have nothing to worry about,” he continued, glancing briefly over at Samuel before turning back onto me. “As I outlined in our…discussion weeks earlier, my service has been pledged to Aldford for the next few months. As difficult as it may be to believe, given my earlier deception, that service comes without any strings or attempts at misdirection attached. In essence, I am here to assist you in any way possible for the duration of my stay.”

“Then you have no objection with them leaving?” I asked, a little surprised by how easily the agent had taken the news. I’d expected that I’d have to work at least a little bit to bring him around to see my point of view, not to just have him nod in acceptance.

“How could I?” Stanton asked, clasping his hands together in his lap. “With the ley line repaired, the task that House Denarius has assigned to them has been fulfilled most satisfactorily, I have no reason—or ability, for that matter—to keep them here any longer. I suspect they will be quite eager to return to Eberia and see to the release of their guild members as was originally promised.”

“Well, uh, that’s great then,” I said, unable to help but feel a little silly with how easily things had gone. The problem I and everyone else tended to have with Stanton was that he was impossible to read or trust with any confidence, his shadowy profession always at the forefront of our mind. “We’re still working out details on when they’d leave, likely tomorrow or the day after depending on how fast they can get ready, but part of the reason why we are looking to send them to Coldscar is to see if they can entice a core of adventurers or even entire guilds to make their way towards Aldford. Not to mention warn Marshal Tarius about the presence of the orcs that we’ve seen, too.”

“I suspected as much the moment that you mentioned the city, and I must say that I am in favor of both goals,” Stanton commented as he gave me an approving nod. “Another legion or two of…amicable adventurers would go far to securing Aldford’s authority in the region and turn any future conflict with either the Dread Crew or this hidden orc tribe sharply in your favor.”

“That’s what we’re hoping,” I stated wistfully, silently hoping for what was easily the hundredth time that we weren’t inviting even more problems into the area. After all, I knew firsthand just how hard it was to predict what other players would do, let alone control them. “We need the manpower if we’re going to keep growing, and whatever window we have to recruit more adventurers to our side will only last until the Ascendancy openly attacks Coldscar.”

“Assuming they haven’t already,” Stanton pointed out in a quiet voice.

“Hopefully, they haven’t,” I agreed, knowing full well from a meta-perspective that the Ascendancy hadn’t made any such move yet but unable to tell Stanton that without the game filtering it from his memory and defeating the whole purpose of the conversation. “But that’s another thing that I’m hoping Lazarus and the others can confirm for us. Because if the war has already started, then we really need to know about it. Our existing problems here notwithstanding.”

“I suppose if the world started to fall down around our ears, it would be prudent to know,” Stanton mused, going as far as to offer me a thin smile. “In either case, however, please let me know how I may assist. I would suggest sending along a report informing Marshal Tarius of our recent success with repairing the ley line and the current situation that we find ourselves in as well. The same for the matriarch as well. Given the role æther is expected to play in mustering Eberia’s defense, they should know that we have been successful with our original mission to repair the ley line. Not to mention it may be our last chance to send any sort of communique before we are cut off.”

“That’s fine,” I said, completely understanding the need to report our success as well as the potential troubles affecting us. Based on everything that Stanton had told us earlier, Eberia was counting on the restoration of Æther to the city to help fuel the multitude of weapons and artifacts that they had recovered from the Nafarr ruins the city was built upon.

“Very good,” Stanton replied, inclining his head towards me. “Then I will prepare a draft of letters for both your and Fredric’s review by the end of the day.”

“Great,” I said, happy with how easily everything had gone with Stanton. “That was really the biggest thing that I wanted to bring up. The highlights of our plan afterward calls for Hallowguarde to resume rebuilding Shadow’s Fall, at least to the point where we adventurers can use it as an anchor for our souls should we die. Then for the rest of us to continue onwards with aggressive scouting activities, barring any new information from our…guests.”

“Ah, yes,” Stanton mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Have you had a chance to speak with any of them yet?”

“I haven’t,” I replied, shaking my head. “I wanted to let them stew and get used to their surroundings a bit before I started any interrogations.”

“A valid tactic,” Stanton stated, offering me a nod. “However, the usefulness of that approach will depend much on what style of interrogation you choose to follow once you are face to face with the prisoner. Might I ask what your plan was once you were in a room together?”

“Uh, well,” I started, then immediately paused to collect my thoughts. “I was going to have them escorted into a room with a pair of chairs and already be waiting there when they came in. At that point, I’d invite them to sit down and try to open a discussion with them. Start with minor questions such as how they were enjoying their stay and the like. From there, I—what, what’s wrong?”

I cut myself off as Stanton began to shake his head from side to side.

“Lyrian,” he said flatly, his face not betraying any emotion. “Forgive me for saying this, but you are too…kind.”

“Uh,” I grunted, staring back at the spy blankly. “Thanks? Or is that a bad thing?”

“For your chosen tactic, it is, how can I say? Inconsistent,” Stanton answered gently. “By delaying any questioning or interviews for several days, you have forced the prisoners to acclimatize to their surroundings, to get used to their loss of freedom and their powerlessness. In effect, you are setting yourself up as an iron authority figure in their eyes, able to control their destiny with a mere thought.

“To invest your energy in doing such, and then to present them with a soft, relationship-building interview as I surmise your intentions were, will run counterproductive to that,” the man continued, his eyes focused intently on mine as he spoke. “You will confuse them as to what their place is, and most likely make them see you as being weak, regardless of your actual physical prowess and combat ability.”

“Okay…” I said slowly, feeling a little caught off guard with the switch that the conversation had taken. “What would you suggest?”

“Maintain your dominance,” Stanton stated.

“And how do I do that exactly?” I asked, the spy’s advice sounding useful in theory, but giving me no clue of how to actually put it into practice. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience when it comes to this sort of stuff.”

“I am aware,” Stanton replied. “That is one of the reasons why the matriarch offered Aldford my service for a time. There are substantial gaps in all of your educations when it comes to the more subtle arts.”

“To be fair, there hasn’t been anything exactly subtle about the last two months,” I grumbled, not a bit petulantly.

“No, there certainly hasn’t,” the man allowed, conceding the point. “However, given the challenges you have before you now, it is time to begin remedying that when opportunity allows.”

“Well, I’m all ears,” I said, glancing over at Samuel who was still asleep, not having so much as twitched since our arrival. “But do you want to go somewhere else for this?”

“No, we should be fine here, and I do not expect this particular lesson to take long,” Stanton said, glancing briefly at the sleeping mage before shaking his head. “I tend to favor practical experience in my teaching, which given the number of captives we have, we conveniently have plenty of opportunity for.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” I said hesitantly, wondering just what I might have gotten myself into.

“It is the only way to look at it,” Stanton affirmed. “Now, before we get into too much detail of actual interrogation tactics, there is one extremely important attribute that I wish to highlight that will serve as the foundation of this lesson.”

“And what’s that?” I asked, suddenly curious about what the man was going to say.

“Reputation,” the spy answered. “This is possibly the greatest weapon that you might have in your arsenal, but one that can be quickly damaged or even rendered useless should you not take proper care of it. Now while I trust you understand the role of reputation in its broader sense, such as personal virtue and the consequences of your actions, what I mean by it, in this case, is the presence that you subconsciously bring into a room with you.”

“I wasn’t aware that I exactly had a presence, at least not consciously,” I said to the man, seeing him nod his head in response.

“And that is why it is going to be the crux of this lesson,” Stanton told me. “Think for a second if your positions were reversed between you and your captives. How would you feel the moment that you saw yourself? Or better yet, let’s use Carver as an example. What would be your reaction if you were his prisoner and he entered the room?”

“To be honest, fear and a lot of anger,” I replied without any hesitation. “It would depend on the exact circumstances and what he did.”

“Precisely,” the spy said. “And I imagine that if he entered the room wearing a flowery bonnet and invited you for a cup of tea, it would shatter that particular perception of him.”

“Well, yeah, of course it would,” I grunted, shaking my head at the rather ridiculous scenario. “That wouldn’t be in line with what I’d expect out of him. I’d probably be confused, if nothing else.”

“Which would be precisely what the prisoners would feel if you attempted to befriend them or have an excessively cordial conversation with them as you’d planned,” Stanton stated, highlighting his point. “First and foremost, when dealing with an enemy or rival, you need to consider what their perception of you is, and how they may react to it. If they are afraid of you, then they will act differently than if they were envious of you, and even more so if they are indifferent to you.”

“I think I understand what you’re getting at now,” I said to Stanton, slowly nodding at him as I processed everything that he’d told me. “In their case, they’ve always seen me as an enemy, one that’s caused them a ton of trouble.”

“One that despite their best efforts they have never been able to truly beat,” Stanton added, his eyes fixating on mine. “Do not sell yourself short, Lyrian. Given all of the major conflicts that you have been involved in with these prisoners over the last two months, you have crushed them utterly each time. Think of what effect that might have on their morale and thinking.”

“I…I didn’t really think about it that way,” I said slowly, thinking over all the battles that we’d had with Carver and the Dread Crew. In every case, save perhaps the ambush near the Irovian tower, there’d been a clear-cut victor in the end, with that particular battle ending in a draw at best for them.

Maybe not even that much, considering we managed to take down a few of their NPCs, I thought, thinking through the entirety of the battle. And all they managed to do was send a some of us for a respawn.

“But I can see that you are now,” Stanton said, no doubt seeing the realization in my eyes. “How does that change your perspective of the situation now?”

“Substantially,” I stated, re-thinking everything about the original approach that I’d planned for interrogating the prisoners.

“Good,” Stanton stated, leaning forward in his chair towards me. “Now we can start the lesson.”

Chapter 12

“I have the prisoner you requested here,” Dyre stated, his voice echoing throughout the main hall of Aldford’s prison as he strode up towards Amaranth and me with a dark-haired dwarf dressed in a plain burlap shirt and pants by his side.

“Thank you, justicar,” I said, nodding once at the armored man before turning to look towards the dwarf and meeting the angry expression on his face. “Hello, Phillion, long time no see. I hope you’ve been enjoying our hospitality here so far.”

“You fucking know I’m not,” the dwarf spat by way of greeting, his expression not changing.

“Really?” I asked with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t know about you, but four walls and a place to sleep has to beat that ash-covered field we’ve spent the last week fighting over.”

“Then maybe we should trade places if you like it so much,” Phillion grunted acidly.

“Ha, very funny,” I replied, offering the man a smile. “But as luck turns out, I already have a room, one that I’m able to come and go from as I please.”

“Fancy that,” Phillion said through clenched teeth. “Now what the hell do you want from me, Lyrian? Because the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can tell you to piss off and go back to my cell.”

“Are you really that eager to go back into your box?” I asked, letting the dwarf’s anger wash over me without flinching. “Because I actually came here after realizing just how rude I was in dragging all of you into town and throwing you straight into here. It didn’t occur to me until today that I should probably give you all a proper tour of your new home.”

“A…tour?” Phillion said slowly, his anger vanishing, replaced by confusion. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“A tour of Aldford,” I clarified, purposefully smiling wider at the dwarf. “I’m sure you could use the walk too. We tried to make those rooms as comfortable as possible when we built the place, but I’m sure they’re getting pretty cramped by now.”

Phillion looked at me as if I’d suddenly sprouted two heads, his mouth hanging open as if he were unsure of what to say. “Uh…”

“Well, that wasn’t exactly the enthusiastic reply I expected, but I suppose it’ll do,” I said, glancing over towards Dyre, the man having been waiting patiently until this point. “Justicar, I would like to request temporary custody of this prisoner for a short while to show him the town, if at all possible.”

“Hang on a sec—” Phillion started to say before being cut off by Dyre.

“Granted,” the man stated. “I trust that you will be responsible for both his safety, as well to ensure that he does not escape?”

“Of course,” I answered confidently, inclining my head towards Amaranth, whom until this point had been sitting beside me peacefully. “That’s why I brought my familiar with me. He’ll make sure that nothing untoward happens during our excursion.”

As if on cue, Amaranth took that opportunity to lift a paw off the ground and lick it, revealing a series of wickedly sharp claws.

“That will be more than sufficient,” Dyre said, completely unperturbed by the cat’s display. “Please return him in good time. He is still a prisoner, after all.”

“Of course,” I replied, bowing my head at the justicar and then turning it towards the dwarf. “Shall we? I promise there’ll be lunch, too, at the end.”

“I don’t really have a choice about going, do I?” Phillion growled back at me, having forced himself past his earlier confusion.

“If I say yes, will it make you feel better?” I asked while taking a step to the side and indicating for the man to fill the space I’d just made, conveniently placing him right between Amaranth and me.

“No. So let’s get this waste of time over with,” Phillion hissed, taking a step away from Dyre towards us.

“That’s the spirit,” I said cheerfully, giving Dyre a farewell wave as I turned to leave the prison, trusting that Amaranth would encourage Phillion to follow if he didn’t do so automatically.

Walking confidently, I pushed the door open and strode outside into the bright midday sun, holding it open long enough for Phillion and Amaranth to step through. Watching the dwarf closely as he stepped out into the light, I saw his eyes squint shut tightly as the bright daylight temporarily overwhelmed him, causing him to raise a hand to shield his eyes.

“What do you think this ‘tour’ is gonna do?” he asked as the door swung shut behind him. “Make me miss my freedom so much I talk?”

“That really wasn’t my plan,” I told the dwarf as I motioned for him to follow me, the three of us making our way towards the heart of Aldford. “But if you want to talk, go ahead, I won’t stop you. I imagine you and your cellmate have run out of things to say by now.”

“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it,” Phillion answered, the anger in his voice returning. “I meant about the Dread Crew. If you think you’re going to get anything from me, you’re wasting your time. You might as well take me back to my cell.”

“What makes you think I want something from you?” I asked, glancing at the dwarf with a raised eyebrow.

“Because you’re here,” Phillion replied, this time sounding less sure than he had seconds earlier.

<He is hiding his fear with anger,> Amaranth whispered to me, filling the momentary silence between my next reply. <I can hear his heart thundering like cornered prey while his eyes seek escape.>

“And where else do you think I would be?” I queried before turning away to point at a building that was coming up ahead. “Oh, we’re almost at our first stop. This building here is our crafting hall—pretty much everything in Aldford at this point has come through this place by now. Be it tool, armor, weapon, nail, plank—I’m sure you get the picture.”

“No, I really don’t,” Phillion stated, coming to a sudden stop and folding his arms across his chest. “Seriously, why the hell are you here right now and not off fighting today, Lyrian? There has to be something you want if you’re here.”

Stopping midstride at the dwarf’s statement, it was my turn to stare back at him in what I hoped was sufficient confusion and disbelief.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I said, projecting my best wary tone. “You have to know that the fighting is over by now…don’t you?”

“The hell are you talking about?” Phillion demanded, the familiar anger returning on his face.

“The fighting on the plains,” I clarified, shaking my head at the man. “It’s over. We took back Shadow’s Fall the day after we captured all of you. We haven’t seen any sign of your friends in days.”

“You are full of shit,” Phillion retorted. “I don’t know what you think lying is going to get you, but go ahead if it makes you feel better.”

“Uh, why would I lie about something like that?” I asked the angry dwarf. “I’m sure you guys all have an offline chat or something set up back in reality, right? That’d be easy to figure out.”

“Of course, we do!” Phillion replied a little too harshly. “And that’s why I know you’re full of shit.”

“Oh,” I said in a soft voice, despite feeling my heart begin to race at what I’d just heard. “Damn, man, that sucks.”

“Huh?” Phillion demanded. “What do you mean?”

Saying nothing in response, I simply shook my head at the question before turning back towards the Crafting Hall ahead. “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

Not looking to see if he followed me, I resumed our route, managing several steps before I heard more footsteps following behind me. Slowing my pace, I allowed for Amaranth and Phillion to catch up, the three of us walking silently towards the crafting hall and eventually inside.

Could the Dread Crew be lying to our captives? I asked myself as I walked, processing everything that I’d learned from my exchange with Phillion just now and wondering how much of it was true and if the dwarf wasn’t attempting to mislead me on his own. If I take what he let slip at face value, then does that mean they’ve told the prisoners that they’re still fighting on the plains? Or have they left them completely in the dark, assuming that they’ll talk? They have to know that two of them chose to cut their losses by now and abandon the war. But then on the flip side too, Phillion could be trying to fake me out…

I cut my train of thought off with a mental sigh, feeling a wave of tiredness and frustration shoot through me as I contemplated all of the double thinking that was becoming all too common in my life. Trust, as Stanton had drilled into me during our brief lesson today, was a precious commodity that rapidly shrank the higher the stakes became, eventually petering out into near nothing. Given that we were effectively fighting for Aldford’s future, and quite possibly Eberia’s by extension, I felt that I’d already reached that point, making me wish for the days where my biggest concern had been trying not to get eaten by a giant spider.

Which knowing this game, could still very well happen tomorrow, I added with one last wistful thought before turning my attention back towards Phillion and our arrival to the carpentry section of the crafting hall, which as always, was a bustling hive of activity.

“I guess I don’t need to explain what this area is,” I said in a loud voice by way of explanation as we entered the room and stepped to the side, the comforting smell of wood and sawdust mixing with the sounds of countless saws, hammers, and chisels in action. “Here is where all of our woodworking is done and all of the framing for our buildings and palisade is planned out. Right now, as you can see, things are a bit calm, but that’s mostly because we’re so close to lunch. In an hour or so, this place will be packed again.”

“This isn’t packed?” Phillion shouted back at me with a glare of disbelief before turning back towards the room and the dozen craftsmen scattered around it.

“Nah,” I replied, motioning for the man to look at the ceiling, where a second level above our floor was visible, along with a rope crane to help move heavier objects up and down. “That thing is pretty much always in use when this place is fully staffed to move stuff up and down. My guess is that they got the first lunch today.”

“There’s another floor…” the dwarf grunted in response, his eyes looking up, and his mouth dropping open in awe.

“Let’s keep moving,” I called out after letting the man take in the room for a few more seconds, his wide eyes twisting to look back at me. “The other rooms here are a fair bit quieter and aren’t nearly as dusty.”

To emphasize the point, I slapped a hand on my armored shoulder which caused a faint cloud of sawdust to billow upwards, despite the fact that we’d been in the room for barely more than a few seconds. Staring blankly at me for a pair of heartbeats, Phillion glanced back towards the room one last time before the three of us resumed our tour.

“So this next room is our tailoring, or I guess textiles workshop,” I told the dwarf as we entered a new room, the busy noise that we’d heard earlier fading in favor of soft whirring. “We’re in the process of moving away from spinning wheels and upgrading into spinning jennies, but—hey are you okay?”

I paused having seen that the dwarf had stopped just shy of the room’s entrance, clearly stunned by what he saw, his eyes rapidly scanning back and forth between all the machinery in the room.

“I…uh, I don’t know,” Phillion answered, all of the anger, attitude, and belligerence that he’d been showing before we entered the building having vanished. “This—I—this is not what I expected.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, cocking my head at the man. “Haven’t you crafted before?”

“Nothing like this,” he replied. “Nothing even close to this scale. No one has anything like this out here.”

“Really?” I grunted in disbelief. “How the hell did you guys outfit yourselves then?”

“Slowly, and by hand,” Phillion answered, showing no hesitation in answering the question. “Why do you think we started raiding those caravans? They had shit we needed for gear.”

“They had shit we needed too,” I answered, my voice turning hard as I spoke. “Not to say anything about the actual people that were escorting those caravans.”

“Yeah…” Phillion answered before falling silent, tearing away his eyes away from mine and staring out towards the room.

<Well, that’s unexpected,> I mentally whispered to Amaranth, after watching Phillion’s expression carefully for a few more seconds, eventually turning around and resuming our tour. <Is it just me, or did he almost sound guilty there for a second?>

<Possibly?> Amaranth answered, a wave of uncertainty coming through our shared link. <He acts like a kitten who has strayed too far from his den for the first time. Brave. Defiant. Yet overwhelmed at how big the world truly is.>

<Good. Then our plan is working perfectly,> I said, allowing myself a brief smile where Phillion couldn’t see. Overwhelmed was exactly the emotion that I was going for, Stanton and I having decided that it was likely the best way to show our strength to the prisoners and making them feel that they’d never even had a chance in standing up to us, let alone beating us.

Moving on from there, the remainder of the tour sped by at a decent pace, the three of us passing through the rest of the crafting hall in near complete silence as I showcased Aldford’s growing industrial base. Even the crown jewel of my tour, a slow walk through the foundry, did little to break the cloud that had fallen over him. At least not beyond an initial widening of the eyes and a brief stumble when he saw the sheer quantity of iron that we had available to us.

“So that’s our crafting hall in all its glory,” I said as we finally stepped outside, exiting the sweltering heat of the Foundry behind us. “Next, we’ll cut through town, and I’ll show you the palisade that we’re building, but don’t worry, we won’t get too close, else there’s a good chance we’ll get roped into helping.”

I paused to flash a grin at Phillion, who simply looked back at me with a blank expression, saying nothing.

“Then after that, we’ll stop by the arena and see if there are any decent fights or matches going on,” I continued, having grown used to the dwarf’s stony face and quiet demeanor. “Which also happens to be right beside the field kitchen that we’ve set up to help feed everyone during the day. How does that all sound?”

“You guys have an arena?” Phillion asked weakly, barely speaking loud enough for me to hear over the noise of the foundry behind us.

“Well, sure, of course we do,” I said as the three of us walked towards the town square, which contained the massive base of the ætherwarped oak tree that dominated Aldford’s sky above. “We use it as a place to blow off some steam, as well as a training area, too. Plus, we’re actually starting to develop a pretty competitive dueling culture here in town, so some of the matches can be pretty intense to watch.”

Grunting vaguely at my statement, Phillion fell silent once more as the three of us passed through the town square, the dwarf’s head unable to resist canting upwards as we passed by the tree. Wanting to make sure that it made the appropriate impact, I let the man set the pace as we walked, giving him the opportunity to gawk at our growing town square. Eventually, our tour moved onto our next stop at the northeastern edge of Aldford where the construction was the heaviest. Taking care to stay out of the way of the building efforts as we approached the palisade, I kept up a constant commentary of our construction efforts thus far, telling the dwarf of our plans to expand the town. After a few minutes, I eventually began to realize that my words were falling on deaf ears once again, after noticing Phillion’s slack-jawed and bewildered expression.

“Hey, how about we skip ahead and go straight to lunch and sit down?” I asked, giving the man a nudge and causing him to snap out of his reverie. “You look a little bit overwhelmed right now.”

“S-sure,” he said slowly, a hand coming up to brush away a line of sweat that had formed across his brow. “That would be great.”

Nodding at the dwarf, I motioned for him to follow me, the three of us cutting through the construction area and towards the northern end of town until a large tent with its sides drawn open came into view. As we approached, an enticing scent of cooked meat wafted through the air towards us, the aroma causing even my unused stomach to gurgle in anticipation. Given my ætherwarped condition, I rarely even bothered to eat in-game, often working straight through mealtimes, but that didn’t mean that food had entirely lost its effect on me.

Especially not when the food in question was cooked by Aldford’s resident gourmet chef.

“Who be dere?!” a shrill voice demanded, almost the same instant that the three of us entered the tent. “Second lunch isn’t time for yet! Oh! It be you…”

“Hello, Ragna,” I said, smiling at the half-orc woman who was advancing towards us with an angry expression on her face and a thick wooden spoon in her hand. “How are you doing today?”

“Busy, like every day always be,” she answered, her demeanor softening as Amaranth walked forward towards her, purring loud enough for all of us to hear. “Too many layabouts here making Ragna’s life hard. Thankful blue cat at least carries weight for many.”

“Does he now?” I asked with a bit of surprise as I saw Ragna reach down to stroke Amaranth’s head with a smile as he leaned into her affectionately.

“For true,” the half-orc matron stated. “Blue cat brings me two big snakes or beetles every morning. Help keep things fresh. Never talks back. Offer him all the meat he wants elsewise. Best partnership.”

“I can see that,” I said dryly, watching Ragna begin to scratch behind Amaranth’s ear, causing the cat’s shameless purrs to grow even louder.

<Do not judge me,> Amaranth’s slightly embarrassed voice filtered through my head, no doubt sensing what I was thinking. <One does what they must to ensure a full belly, and it is only wise to befriend the one who controls the food.>

<No judgment at all,> I replied with a mental laugh, savoring the sight before I remembered the original purpose of why we’d entered the tent. “Anyway, we were just stopping by for a moment, Ragna. I’ve been showing one of our prisoners, Phillion, around Aldford this morning, and I’ve brought him here for lunch.”

“Hrm?” Ragna grunted, her eyes darting up from the cat after hearing me mention the dwarf and fixating on him. “This be one of our prisoners that you bring back? Ragna not seen any yet.”

“He is,” I confirmed, glancing over towards Phillion, who was looking at the woman with a noticeable bit of trepidation.

“Hm,” Ragna mused as she stepped forward to inspect Phillion, carefully appraising the dwarf like she would a choice cut at a butcher shop. After a few seconds, she turned to me, a scowl on her face. “This one is too lean and thick, will take time to break down in pot. Bring meaty prisoners next time.”

“Uh, Lyrian, what does—Hey! Ow! That hurt!” Phillion started to say in a rapidly panicking voice before suddenly pitching higher as Ragna’s hand darted out to pinch his arm as if checking to see how much fat it bore.

“Hrmpt!” Ragna spat, unamused by what she felt as her hand retreated from the dwarf. “Ragna will do best to make tasty. No promises. Bring him back to block and hold him strong. Ragna will make quick with knife.”

“You’re going to do what?!” Phillion yelled, his voice reaching a new level of panic as he took a step backward. “Lyrian!”

“Whoa, hold on! I brought him here to eat lunch!” I exclaimed, holding a hand up at the half-orc woman to slow her down. “Not to serve him for lunch!”

“Hrm, Ragna knows,” she replied with a hearty laugh, flashing a set of sharp teeth towards me and Phillion. “Ragna just tease…but also want to remind prisoner of consequences if not obey rules.”

She finished her statement by leveling her wooden spoon at the dwarf threateningly.

“Prisoner understands?”

“S-sure, I understand,” Phillion answered, holding his hands out peacefully. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

“Good. Ragna will be watching,” the woman affirmed before inclining her head deeper into the tent. “Now, Ragna has some snake cakes and beetle stew ready. Take and get out of hair. Second lunch coming. Much work still to do.”

With that, Ragna turned away from us and briskly walked back towards a large cauldron and oven set up on the far side of the tent, where several other townsfolk and adventurers were busily helping prepare for the coming meal.

“Lyrian, what the fuck was that?” Phillion demanded in a quiet voice once Ragna had left earshot. “Was she really going to cook me?”

“Uh, if I asked her to, probably,” I answered, giving the dwarf a dismissive shrug as if the question didn’t matter. “But you’d have to really piss me off. Anyway, let’s get you a few of those cakes before they’re all gone, they’re actually really tasty when you dip them into the stew. Then we can grab a seat on the stands at the arena.”

Ignoring the look of disbelief that I knew to be on Phillion’s face, I continued even deeper into the tent until I found the table of food that Ragna had mentioned. Grabbing a cake and a wooden bowl filled with stew, I waited for Phillion to catch up, eventually leading the three of us out of the tent and towards the arena. On our way out, I couldn’t help but smile when I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Amaranth had somehow found a large shank of meat and was carrying it with him in his mouth. A few minutes later, the three of us found ourselves sitting in the very front row of the stands that bordered a sandy—if slightly blood-colored—field.

“Okay,” I said, pausing briefly to wipe my mouth after practically inhaling half of my stew. “We have a five versus five match coming up next, and we’re right in the splatter zone. So, if you don’t want blood in your—”

“Lyrian, why are you doing this?” Phillion asked in a quiet, yet firm voice, interrupting me mid-explanation. “Why are you spending your day showing me all of this? You have to know that I’ll tell the others about everything I’ve seen today.”

“Oh, of course,” I replied, giving the man a dismissive shrug. “But then nothing I’ve shown you today is really a secret. Hell, we’ve aired pretty much everything I’ve shown you today on our feeds already or are going to in the next couple days. Not to mention the fact that you guys had Ignis buried in here for how long?”

“That’s not really an answer,” Phillion said, shaking his head at me, his food completely untouched in his lap.

“Isn’t it?” I queried, fixing the man with my own inquisitive stare. “How about we turn that question around. Why do you think I’m doing this?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” Phillion answered with frustration in his voice. “It’s like you’re trying to show off, show me just how much you have here.”

“You think this is about jealously?” I asked, letting a brief laugh escape before I continued speaking. “Don’t lie to yourself, Phillion, I can see where your eyes have been looking. You’ve been counting adventurers since we’ve left the prison.”

“So what if I have?” the dwarf answered, a hint of his previous defiance showing. “The others will be interested to know just how many are around here.”

“I’m sure they would be,” I said while watching Phillion carefully, deciding that it was time to finally give him a push. “But I don’t think that’s the real reason why you’re counting. You’re looking to see just how many are here in town, against how many you think should be out somewhere, fighting.”

I saw Phillion’s jaw clench as I finished speaking, and a flash of anger appeared behind his eyes.

“But at this point you know you’ve already counted too many,” I continued, not breaking eye contact as I spoke. “You can see that there are too many people here to keep up with the pace of the fighting that we’ve had over the last week, which now has you second-guessing everything that your offline group has been telling you. If they’ve been telling you anything at all.”

“They’re protecting their information,” Phillion replied weakly, his voice barely above a whisper. “After those two left…they must have thought some of us would talk.”

“And how does that make you feel after you’ve spent the last four days in a cell, expecting them to come breaking down the door at any minute and rescue you?” I asked, deciding that it was time to pressure the dwarf as hard as I dared. “Or better yet, after all the loyalty you’ve shown just by sticking it out here in a war on the frontier when you could be literally anywhere else?”

“How would it make you feel?” Phillion retorted hotly as he twisted towards me, the cake that had been sitting on his lap tumbling to the ground. “Like I’m wasting my time! Especially after…”

“Especially after what?” I pushed, keeping my voice calm and steady.

“Especially after I came out here and burned my reputation with Eberia in the process,” Phillion said, his shoulders dropping down dejectedly, all tension leaving his body as he turned back in his seat to face the field again. “Even if I somehow got out of here and abandoned both the Dread Crew and my guild, I’d have nowhere to go back to. I’m screwed. I might as well go back in line to reroll a character.”

“That’s always an option,” I agreed, despite knowing full well that creating a new character would cause Phillion to lose his “spot” in Ascend Online and send him back into the several-million-person-long queue that was waiting for a chance to play the game. Unlike games before it, CTI thoroughly discouraged making alternate characters, preferring that players made and then stuck with a single choice—along with the consequences that their in-game actions brought them.

“But you also have other, far less drastic options too,” I added. “We can talk with Dyre and what he’s able to offer you with regards to a fresh start.”

“And all I need to do to get that is sell out my friends,” Phillion replied, his voice sounding both dejected and depressed.

“Look, I might be a bit biased saying this, but I’d hardly call them friends if they’re treating you this way,” I told the dwarf bluntly. “And I get from the tone of your voice that this is hardly the first time that they’ve done this.”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” the dwarf said, sighing deeply. “Not by a longshot. I’ve always been on the outside looking in. Nothing I did let me break into that inner circle.”

“Then why are you sitting here and torturing yourself over them?” I asked, the sound of several cheering voices momentarily drowning out our conversation as two groups of adventurers stepped out on the field.

“I don’t know,” Phillion said, falling silent as the match began, a series of thundering spells combined with both the crowd and combatants shouting making any attempt at conversation impossible.

Turning my full attention towards the spectacle, the next few minutes passed in a near blink of an eye as the two teams clashed against one another, both sides clearly well-practiced and skilled. However, as the battle wore on, the advantage began to clearly shift to one team, with the weaker eventually conceding when their healer, a shaman, crashed to the ground unconscious, his body singed and smoldering from a timely cast bolt of electricity. Within seconds of the match ending, a team of healers rushed onto the field, restoring everyone back to full health and helping them off the field.

“Damn, that was a pretty good match!” I exclaimed, casting a glance over at Phillion who wore a tired and somber look on his face. “What did you think?”

“There were survivors from our raids,” he stated abruptly, turning to look at me with a broken expression. “We didn’t kill them. At least not when we could help it.”

“What.” The single word was all I managed to get out as my blood suddenly ran cold at Phillion’s sudden revelation.

“The NPCs that were on those caravans we took before you found us,” Phillion repeated, his voice getting stronger the more words he got out. “We led you to believe that we killed them. I’m telling you now that’s wrong.”

“Then what did you do with them?” I asked, already knowing I wasn’t going to like whatever answer the man had in store for me.

“We gave them to Carver,” Phillion said. “That was the deal that we’d made with him. Supplies in exchange for…people.”

“Then what did he do with them?” I pressed, barely able to hear anything over the sound of my heartbeat in my ears.

“What do you think he did?” Phillion replied, his eyes staring intently into mine. “He gave them to the orcs.”

Chapter 13

“I think this is all we’re going to get, Lyr,” Freya said as she slid up beside me, having circled the crowd of people that were slowly finding their seats in the common area of the longhouse we’d taken over for our meeting. “The rest are offline or away from Aldford.”

“This is more than enough,” I replied, offering the woman’s hand a quick squeeze as I looked out towards all the adventurers in the room, recognizing practically all of the faces, if not the names to match. “We didn’t expect that we’d have to move the meeting up by half a day. Thanks, Freya.”

“No problem,” Freya acknowledged, flashing me a smile as she returned my squeeze. “Heads up though, rumors are starting to fly about what’s going on after we called the meeting early and put the town on alert.”

“Then I better get up there,” I said, turning to look at the crowd a second time.

“It’ll be okay, Lyr,” Freya whispered. “Constantine and Drace are busy getting the guild ready right now, plus you already sent Huxley and the others ahead. Just do what you need to do here, and we’ll be on our way soon enough.”

“Yeah,” I answered, taking a deep breath to steady my nerves at the prospect of standing up and talking to everyone. While it was far from my favorite thing to do, normally I was reasonably okay with public speaking, especially around the familiar crowds of Aldford. But there was something about this time that made me particularly unsteady and anxious.

Probably because I’m about to ruin’s everyone’s day, I thought, taking another steadying breath.

“You’ll be fine,” Freya said, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Just tell them what we’ve learned, and we’ll go from there.”

“Thanks,” I whispered softly for a second time before taking a step forward, everyone’s attention shifting as they saw me move. Waiting for the final stragglers to find their seats—or in the case of the larger and bulkier adventurers, a wall to lean against—the room gradually decreased in volume until it was finally quiet enough for me to start.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” I said by way of greeting, looking out at the assembled leadership of Aldford’s adventurers, or at least those that had been able to make it. “When we originally planned this meeting for later this evening, we had a slightly different agenda in mind than we find ourselves with right now, but as we’ve all learned firsthand over the last week…there’s no plan that survives contact with the enemy.”

I paused for a second, both to collect my thoughts and to allow for a chance for my words to sink in, seeing several people lean forward in their seats in anticipation. “As many of you have no doubt heard, or maybe even saw, earlier today I had a chance to speak with one of our prisoners, learning some very valuable and also very troubling information in the process. Some of this information has long term implications for our plans going forward, while other pieces of it will need to be addressed more immediately. With that in mind, I ask for your patience as I lay out everything that we’ve learned today first, then afterward we will go into the implications of what it all means.”

I waited as a chorus of murmurs rose up from the crowd, standing patiently until they died down and I felt everyone’s attention focus on me once more. “Starting off with the most impactful bit of information from the prisoner first…we now know that there are survivors from the Grey Devil and other bandit raids against the caravans that were due to come to Aldford over the last month.

“By the prisoner’s best guess, he believes that there are as many as a hundred and fifty survivors, but he also admits that he wasn’t present for every raid his guild undertook, let alone what the other bandit guilds may have been doing. So, in practice, that number could be substantially higher in the end,” I explained, the room completely silent as I spoke. “Unfortunately, however, they weren’t able to provide us with a solid reason for why they were capturing people, only that Carver ordered it, because of an arrangement he’d made with a tribe of orcs.”

“He is doing what?” an angry voice from the crowd managed to shout a second before similar sentiments rose in response, destroying the calm silence that had just filled the room. Giving everyone a chance to adjust to the news, I let the noise build for a few seconds before raising my hands and settling the crowd.

“I know,” I stated plainly once the noise had died down enough for me to start speaking again. “I had the same reaction too when I first heard the news.”

“Lyrian, is there any chance the prisoner could be lying about this?” a voice asked from somewhere in the crowd, causing several others to echo out in agreement. “He could just be trying to save his ass and get out of his cell!”

“I think that the prisoner is telling the truth—or at least as far as he knows what the truth is,” I answered the moving heads and faces in front of me, making it hard to pick out exactly who had spoken. “During our interrogation, I had him explain everything to me with the justicar listening, and as far as Dyre could tell me, nothing that the prisoner said was a lie. However, in this case, I feel it is important to point out that it’s possible to tell the truth and yet still be wrong. I only mention this, because of the second major piece of information that the prisoner has told us, which is that the communication between the lower ranks of the Dread Crew and Carver’s inner circle is virtually nonexistent. They are simply told what to do and expected to do it with a minimal fuss or face…rather drastic repercussions.

“I know that hearing this is likely not much of a surprise for those of you who have met Carver and know firsthand how ruthless he can be,” I continued, hearing scattered waves of agreement from the adventurers in the room, “but for those of you who don’t, it apparently took Carver’s group four hours after we captured the prisoners to completely disband the offline chat group that they’d made to communicate with one another, cutting our captives out of their plans. According to the prisoner, the final message that they received before their effective abandonment was, and I quote, ‘Don’t say shit, and sit tight for as long as it takes’.”

There was a series of grumbles and winces around the room as everyone processed that statement.

“So what does that mean for anything the prisoner knows?” a familiar voice close to me asked, causing my eyes to shift and spot Dunedin looking back at me. “He might not be lying, sure, but if he and the others have been kept in the dark and fed shit, then what good does it do us?”

“Well, first, it gives us a great deal of insight into how Carver runs his organization,” I replied, nodding at the dwarf’s skepticism. “Which I am sure all of you know we have precious little insight on. But more importantly, thanks to the prisoner’s information, we now have a starting point that we can use to hopefully take this war back to the Dread Crew. Because regardless of how he may treat his followers, Carver can’t easily hide the camps that he and the Dread Crew have made in the Hartwyld.”

The murmuring that still filled the room suddenly stopped.

“That’s right,” I announced, letting my eyes play over everyone as I dropped the third and most actionable piece of information that we’d learned from Phillion. “Thanks to the prisoner, we now have the location of the two base camps in the Hartwyld that we’ve long suspected that the Dread Crew have had. With this, we finally have a more concrete place to start from in trying to finally put an end to this war and find out exactly where they might have gone to after abandoning Shadow’s Fall.

“Unfortunately, with that being said though, neither of these two camps are even remotely close together and are both somewhat deep in the Hartwyld,” I explained, taking in the rapt and excited faces on the crowd looking back at me. “To start first with the camp closest to us, our prisoner put it roughly about two hours trek northeast of the Irovian tower, deep within a hidden forest valley. Until recently, this was used as the Dread Crew’s primary camp, right up until they attacked Shadow’s Fall and took it over as a bind point, leaving only a small holding force belonging to Carver’s inner circle behind.

“As for the second camp, it is much farther northward, almost a full day’s travel, if not longer, away from Shadow’s Fall. According to the prisoner, it was still fairly small the last time he visited and was being designed as a fallback position to retreat to, should we have managed to retake Shadow’s Fall.

“The one thing of note that he was able to tell us about his stay at the camp was that it wasn’t uncommon for Carver or his people to go deeper into the forest, disappearing for a day or two before returning. It’s his guess that the orcs have their own base or settlement somewhere nearby in the Hartwyld, but where he couldn’t say for certain. According to him, the rank and file members of the Dread Crew were kept separate from anything involving the orcs as often as possible.”

“So the prisoner knows nothing about them at all?” Dunedin called out once more from the crowd, several other voices echoing support for the dwarf’s question. “Nothing about how many of them there are or what they want? Or something else that we can use?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I replied with a sigh, letting some of my own frustration show as I answered the question. “I questioned the prisoner extensively on everything that I could think of involving the orcs, but they weren’t able to tell us anything that we already didn’t know or guess. It’s pretty clear that the Dread Crew aren’t trusted with any more information than they absolutely need to know. They’re apparently so secretive that the prisoner couldn’t even tell us where Carver has been for the last few days; he just up and vanished one night, and everyone knew better than to ask questions.”

“Then in that case, what’s the status of these camps you mentioned?” a new voice asked, this time belonging to a dark-furred Tul’Shar I knew to be named Orius. “The Dread Crew cut and run the second that things turned against them on the plains. What’s not to say that they didn’t abandon all these other camps too?”

“Nothing,” I admitted, having come to the exact same conclusion when Phillion had first told me about the camps. “But according to the prisoner, they were both active with their own bind spots at the time of his capture, which makes them strategic threats to Aldford and Shadow’s Fall respectively. Until we can find them and make sure that they’re either abandoned or destroyed, we have to assume that the Dread Crew are still using them in some capacity.

“Which means that in order to find out, we’re likely going to have to stick our hands into whatever trap that they have waiting for us at both of these camps.”

The longhouse fell completely silent at my revelation as all of the adventurers stared up at me with resolute expressions written across faces, many of them having come to the same conclusion.

“Given the paranoia that we’ve seen so far from Carver, we have to assume that the Dread Crew has made preparations for one of their prisoners talking to us after their capture and revealing the location of these camps,” I stated, my eyes playing over the crowd as I spoke. “Which gives them an advantage in preparing for our arrival at either of the two camps, should they choose to do so. Because they know just as well as us that we have no choice but to check both of these camps out.

“It’s possible that our conclusions here are colored by our own paranoia,” I admitted, raising a hand to hold back the wave of questions and comments I saw starting to form on the faces before me. “It’s also possible that the prisoner is playing a game with us somehow, being able to somehow outwit Dyre’s ability to sense lies in what he’s told us—or ten thousand other equally likely scenarios. But the problem that we’re faced with here is that for the last three days, the Dread Crew have been at loose ends doing who knows what, and it’s past time we changed that.”

A rumble of resigned agreement intermixed with a tinge of concern rose up from the audience at my statement.

“I understand that this is a lot to take in on short notice,” I said, pitching my voice loud enough to be heard over the mumbling voices, completely understanding their reactions. Unlike them, we’d already had nearly an hour to process everything that Phillion had told us and work out our next steps. For everyone else, this information was fresh and would take time to fully process. “But, unfortunately, we’re going to be playing catch-up now that we’ve discovered this information and take steps to react to it. So, to that end, we’re proposing a short-term plan until we know more of what we are dealing with.

“Starting now, everyone will be going on alert, and we will be sending scouting teams out into the region to the west and northwest of the plains in an attempt to make sure that we aren’t missing anything out there. As we do that, the Hallowguarde guild will be sending out a force to recon the area north of Shadow’s Fall as well as put eyes on this second fallback camp that the Dread Crew have established. Given the alliance that Carver and the orcs seem to have struck with one another, the sooner that we can get an idea of what’s happening in the region, the better—especially if the orcs decide that the time has come for them to get involved in our war.”

I paused again to allow for my words to sink in, seeing several of the other adventurers in the room nod approvingly at my statement.

“Then, following immediately after this meeting, I will be taking a team of Virtus guild members to investigate the closer of the two camps within the Hartwyld,” I stated, slowly playing my gaze across the audience as I spoke, ensuring that everyone heard me. “Our goal will be to see if we can find the place and hopefully either spring whatever trap that the Dread Crew may have waiting for us, or failing that, confirm that it’s been abandoned. If for some reason complications arise, we will regroup and come up with another plan, letting everyone know via our offline chat.”

I paused for one final time as I let everyone process the plan that I’d just laid out before saying the words that I knew were going to open the flood gates.

“Now I know that was a lot. But I think that’s all I have for the moment, so at this point, I’d like to open up the floor for any questions that you may all have.”

Almost at once, the room erupted into a deafening cacophony of voices as everyone tried to speak at once. The questions asked me everything from the identity of the prisoner, which we had purposefully left out, to our plans if the Dread Crew attacked Aldford while we were gone. Answering them as best as I could, the next half hour disappeared in the blink of an eye as I, and eventually Freya, began to talk ourselves hoarse, only to be rescued by the timely arrival of Constantine.

“Everyone’s ready to go, Lyr,” the rogue suddenly whispered into my ear, appearing by my side as if by magic. “We’re just waiting on you two.”

“All right, great,” I replied, reaching out to tap Freya on the shoulder while glancing back at Dunedin who I’d been talking to. “Okay, it’s time to go. We’re going to be heading out momentarily.”

“That’s fine, Lyr,” the dwarf replied, having spent the last few minutes asking me if he should pull back his workers from the Hartwyld’s edge closest to Aldford. “Everyone knows what needs to be done. Hopefully, this’ll finally let us get a lead on these bastards and help us put this war to bed for good.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I agreed, stepping to the side to make my escape.

Apologizing to those that were still waiting to ask questions, Freya and I extricated ourselves from the rushed meeting as fast as we could, promising everyone that we’d follow up once we knew what we were dealing with. Given the distances that we had to travel in order to get to the area that Phillion said that the Dread Crew camp was, and the fact that it was already almost mid-afternoon, the sooner that we got moving, the better. It would take us close to five hours alone to make the trek northward across the plains, then however long it took afterward to navigate a path through the forest and actually find the camp that we were looking for.

Shame that there’s no rain tonight, I thought, reflexively glancing up at the sky and the single thick cloud that loomed overhead. Ever since I’d ended up here in Aldford, I’d yet to see it go longer than a week without some sort of rain, becoming steadily more frequent now that we’d fully entered the region’s version of summer. A thunderstorm would have been perfect to hide any noise we make and help keep us hidden if the camp is occupied, even if it made us a little miserable in the process.

Arriving at the northern gate to Aldford in good time, I immediately spotted the bulk of Virtus milling about as a group of spellcasters moved through their ranks, ensuring that everyone was fully buffed and ready for the journey. Standing a few steps away from the guild was our core group, including Lazarus, Sawyer, and Ransom. With their tentative plan being to begin their journey back to Eberia tomorrow morning, the group was more than willing to help us out one last time in investigating the Dread Crew camp.

“Lyr, Freya,” Sierra said by way of greeting as the three of us came into range. “How’d they take it?”

“Fairly good,” I replied, glancing over at Freya who nodded in agreement. “They were caught off guard as we were at first, but by the time we left, they were all starting to take things in stride. Hopefully, putting everyone on alert is all just paranoia on our part.”

“Man, if I’m going to run for four or five hours straight, it better not be paranoia,” Constantine grumbled. “I hate running for nothing.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll take a few hours of running if it keeps us from getting blindsided where we least expect it,” Drace retorted, turning to look at me as he spoke. “Anyway, Lyr, we’ve already sent the screening scouts ahead to blaze our path. We’re going to angle our route north at first until we’re out of sight of the forest’s tree line, then swing back east once we’ve made it far enough out. It should hopefully keep our approach out of sight if anyone’s hiding in the trees.”

“Sounds good to me,” I replied, checking raid sense briefly and sensing that the scouts had already managed to gain a healthy head start on us. “Then unless someone else has something to add, let’s get moving. We have a camp to find.”

Chapter 14

The Plains

“So what are we dealing with?” I found myself asking Huxley nearly five hours later while crouched behind a thick cluster of wild bushes and overgrown grass that bordered a small river flowing into the Hartwyld. Our long run across the plains had passed by in a blur with little to break it up, save for a single rest break to renew our buffs and continue moving.

“Sweet nothing as far as we can tell,” the elf replied, inclining his head towards the distant thicket ahead. “We got here easily and managed to comb the surrounding area for a few miles. There’s no sign at all of anyone mustering or even passing through. Just the handful of the countryside critters, which if I may also add, are everywhere. That’s another pretty big sign that no one’s been around here. Else they’d have killed them for food or cleared them out of the way.”

“Hm,” I grunted thoughtfully, glancing over at the rushing river flowing past us. “And the tree line? Any chance someone’s watching?”

“Cerril’s crawled up and down the forest’s edge here and has found nothing,” Huxley answered, shaking his head. “So unless Carver’s goons have suddenly managed to become master sneaks, I’m pretty sure we’re not about to walk into a trap. At least, not here at any rate.”

“And knowing Cerril’s skill, I doubt that’s the case too,” I replied, giving the man a knowing nod. Our time in the Twilight Grove had given all the adventurers in Aldford a crash course in keeping an eye out for hiding enemies. But out of all our people, Cerril in particular had taken that lesson to heart, becoming easily the sharpest eye we had in the guild. If he couldn’t see something hiding in the bush, it was because there was nothing there to see. “All right, I guess that makes our approach into the forest easier. We can follow the river until we’re into the woods and under cover, then turn towards the southeast and blaze a path that way. Unfortunately, I have no idea how far we need to go from there, so we’re likely going to be groping around blind for a while until we either trip over the camp or find some clues along the way.”

“So just like every other day,” Huxley said, completely deadpan. “Good to know.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed with a sigh before turning to look behind me where the guild was waiting. “All right, you guys go on ahead, and I’ll tell the others to move forward into the trees. We’ll regroup there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Huxley said, giving me a brief wave as we parted ways.

Making my way back to the raid at a jog, it didn’t take me long to spot the group standing at the head of it.

“So?” Freya asked as I came into range, her eyebrow raised inquisitively.

“All quiet on the northern front,” I replied, seeing several guildmembers turn their heads in my direction as I answered. “Huxley and his group haven’t seen anything, and the surrounding area looks completely untouched. We’re all clear to push forward all the way into the forest until we’re under cover. From there, our sneaky folk will branch out ahead with the scouts while the rest of the raid hangs back and follows slowly. Hopefully, we’ll be able to find the camp without letting the entire forest know we’re coming.”

“Yeah, and maybe we’ll find a couple unicorns in there while we’re at it too,” Drace commented with a snort, purposefully shaking an arm so that the armor protecting it jingled loudly.

“Maybe,” I replied amid a chorus of chuckles from the group before we all broke apart and set about the task of getting the raid moving. Fortunately, though, the members of Virtus were well used to moving at the drop of the hat now, and it only took us a few minutes before we found ourselves passing through the forest’s edge and into the Hartwyld.

“Okay, I guess this is where we split up for the time being,” I announced once we were all under cover, turning my head to look towards the group as I spoke. “Amaranth and I are going to take point along with Huxley’s group and see if we can spot anything interesting with an ætherscope. Not to mention try and figure out just where we’re going while we’re at that too.”

“Mind if I tag along too, Lyr?” Lazarus asked, the man’s voice sounding much more rested than it had been earlier in the morning. “I like to think I can be quiet and stealthy when the occasion calls.”

“More like you don’t want to slowpoke it back here with us,” Sawyer promptly grumbled at the half-giant.

“Dang, you saw straight through me,” Lazarus replied, flashing the warrior an unapologetic grin.

“Yeah, works for me,” I said, looking over towards Sierra and Constantine. “Unless you two have an objection?”

“Nope,” Sierra stated, shaking her head in response. “Constantine and I are going to take a group each and cover the flanks in case something tries to surprise us.”

“Then I guess that means we’ll sit on our thumbs and follow slowly while we wait for the screaming to start,” Halcyon said in a mildly sarcastic tone. “And maybe come rushing to your rescue if we’re not bored completely stiff.”

“See? You know how this works. Everyone has their part to play,” I replied, giving the mage a brief grin before motioning for Lazarus to follow me as I turned away from the group. “All right, we’re off. Catch you all up ahead.”

Leaving the gang behind, the three of us caught up with Huxley and Cerril, the others of the scouting group having split up to join Constantine and Sierra. Unfortunately, from here on out, all we had to work off of was the vague location of the camp that Phillion had given us. From his point of view, he’d only ever reached the place by way of the forest, following along hidden paths that the Dread Crew had used to travel by to and from its southeastern edge. But since we’d first ambushed them the month earlier, they’d been forced to abandon those routes, allowing the Hartwyld and its creatures to reclaim them. The only specific details that he’d been able to pass along was that the camp was somewhere north of the fallen Irovian tower but south of the river cutting through the forest that we’d followed into it.

Which I realize is a lot less helpful now in practice than I thought it’d be, I mused as I carefully followed Cerril and Huxley’s lead, hoping that I wasn’t embarrassing myself with my stealthiness—or potential lack thereof. Given that spellswords weren’t primarily stealth classes, it’d been all I could do to keep the skill reasonably trained, but compared to the abilities that rogues or scouts enjoyed to keep themselves concealed, I knew I’d always be behind.

Your skill in Stealth has increased to Level 23!

Okay, maybe not too far behind, I thought with a relieved smile after seeing the skill increase notification appear in my vision.

Pressing onwards through the forest, the next hour passed slowly as we began our search for the Dread Crew camp, our eyes watching the trees carefully for any signs of watching eyes, or in my case, signs of magic. Clutching an Irovian ætherscope in hand as I stalked forward with the scouts, I made liberal use of the artifact, using it to extend True Sight’s range drastically and see if there was anything lying in wait for us. While not sensitive enough to pick up small levels of weaker magic at a distance, such as the buffs and enhancements that we each bore, the device was instead more useful for detecting more potent uses of magic. It was able to enhance the aura given off by sources that my regular magical vision would otherwise miss, such as magical creatures, ley lines, mana sources, or more permanent enchantments that were fixed to a specific area.

In our case, there was nothing of note that I could see on the magical spectrum as we pushed deeper into the Hartwyld, leaving us to deal with only the mundane creatures that called the Hartwyld their home. Ranging from the high teens to the mid-twenties in level, the wildlife in this particular area was far from something that we could ignore as we traveled, the challenge that they posed steadily increasing the deeper into the woods that we journeyed. However, given our numbers, it wasn’t these regular run-of-the-mill monsters that we were concerned about running into as we forged a path through the forest.

But rather the rarer and, consequently, much deadlier ones.

Starting at a minimum level of twenty-five and going upwards from there, the Hartwyld consisted of a rather healthy amount of rare boss-ranked creatures roaming through its innermost reaches, occasionally ambushing those who pressed too deep into it. As such, it made travel through the depths of the forest both slow and risky, which contributed to the reason why our war with the Dread Crew had been fought by majority on the plains. It was already hard enough to fight one another on equal terms, and neither of our two sides wanted to risk raid-wide death penalties and be forced to recover lost Soul Fragments if a horde of creatures happened to get involved in our conflict.

Which then has me wondering how they’ve managed to keep this camp safe since they shifted their forces over to Shadow’s Fall, I thought not for the first time as I brought Splinter’s edge down heavily on the neck of an [Emerald Boa Constrictor] that Amaranth had managed to pin, the blade slicing straight through and putting an end to the creature’s struggles. By Phillion’s admission, they only had a small group of Carver’s own watching the place, which couldn’t have been enough to keep it safe long-term. Especially not with them getting caught near the Irovian tower on occasion and getting chased away by our scouts. Maybe they’re getting help from the orcs in manning—

<Hrm, what is that?> Amaranth’s voice suddenly echoed through my mind, causing my thoughts to come to an abrupt end as I glanced over towards the cat, seeing his nose twitching and mouth partly open as he sniffed at something in the air. <Can you smell that? The winds just brought it this way, and it is unlike anything I can recall.>

<A smell?> I asked, a little confused by my familiar’s question at first. But just as I finished speaking, I caught a faint rotting stench flow across our enhanced link before fading away, its brief presence enough to turn my stomach. <Whoa, what the hell is that? That smells awful!>

<So it does,> the cat agreed, despite not showing the same revulsion as me, his constitution clearly stronger than mine when it came to the potent aroma. <It smells like death and decay, but there is also more within it that I cannot place.>

<If you say so,> I replied to Amaranth as I surveyed the forest around us, trying to pinpoint the direction where the smell had wafted in from, eventually managing to catch another stomach-curdling breeze. <Ugh, I just caught another whiff of it, stronger this time. I think it’s coming from somewhere to the southeast?>

<I agree,> my familiar replied as we resumed our movement through the forest, continuing to stalk on the heels of Huxley, Lazarus, and Cerril who had continued onwards while Amaranth and I dealt with the snake. <I can sense it when the wind turns and only briefly before it fades. Though right now it is potent enough that I can barely smell you, let alone the others, and we are barely two body lengths apart.>

<Damn, I wonder what’s causing it,> I sent back to the cat while glancing down at my feet towards the forest floor, seeing nothing but fallen leaves and debris from the trees above. <I can’t see anything here that’s wet or decomposing…so wherever it’s coming from, it has to be a short distance away to be carried by the wind. Maybe it’s something dead? Or a possibly a plant or mushroom somewhere? Those can sometimes smell pretty potent.>

<I know not,> Amaranth replied, the scent of decay flaring through our link as the cat took in a deep breath once more. <I have never hunted this far, so I do not know the common scents that linger here. Regardless, as I said, it does not smell like mere death and rot to me.>

<I see,> I said thoughtfully, trying to block out the newest wave of the smell flowing through the shared link while I considered the cat’s words.

<Do you believe that this aroma might be coming from the camp we are hunting for?> Amaranth went on to query a second later, jumping to the most obvious conclusion. <Perhaps the interlopers we hunt are responsible for this stench somehow.>

<I don’t know,> I answered, the same thought having crossed my mind as well, which, in turn, made me realize that it was time to bring the others into the conversation, prompting me to let out a low whistle to signal for them to stop. <It could be that or maybe a creature that lives in the Hartwyld. Something like a skunk but even more potent.>

<This is true,> Amaranth said, despite his mental voice carrying a tone of doubt in it, the two of us moving with a renewed urgency to catch up to the scouts ahead of us.

“What’s up, Lyr?” Cerril was the first to ask in a near-silent voice once we’d all caught up to one another, practically pressing our heads together so our conversation wouldn’t carry any farther than it had to. “Did you find something?”

“I don’t know,” I replied while motioning over towards my familiar and giving them a quick run-down on what we’d discovered. “We’re not sure what it is, but Amaranth can’t place it.”

“Hrm,” Cerril grunted thoughtfully after I finished speaking, the scout pausing to breathe in deeply as he tested the air. “I think I might smell…something on the wind now that you mention it, but it’s really faint, and I can’t quite make out what exactly it is. You’re sure it was coming from the south?”

“As best as we could tell,” I replied, glancing down towards Amaranth, who promptly gave an affirmative chuff at the question. “Though with how dense this forest is, it’s impossible to know for sure. We only catch the rare whiff of whatever it is occasionally.”

“Well, that’s not much to go on but more than we’ve seen…or rather smelled so far,” Huxley said, glancing over at Cerril, who nodded in response. “And we’re due to hit that valley soon anyway, so we’re not going out of our way if we try to figure out where it’s coming from. Worst case scenario, we just lose a bit of time.”

“I think we have a big difference of what ‘worst case’ might be here,” Lazarus said in a dry tone as he shook his head. “In my books, the worst case is that we trip over something big and nasty and all get eaten before help can arrive.”

“I was thinking roughly the same thing,” I replied with a chuckle, our brief meeting coming to an end as we resumed moving, this time with the cat in the lead.

<The smell is strongest this way,> my familiar said to me as I followed him with an ætherscope in hand, his nose once again twitching as he prowled ahead of us.

Traveling once more, this time on a southeastern track, the five of us blazed a new path through the creatures within the forest, our pace slowing as we were forced to contend with their higher levels. Pressing through them steadily, the forest floor beneath us began to gradually slope downwards as it began its descent into the valley we’d been steadily working towards. Yet as we did so, we all noticed the strange scent of decay in the air continue to grow, becoming more and more potent until even the others could smell it. Stopping once to renew our buffs and to inform the others of our concerns regarding the decay hanging in the air, the next hour passed uneventfully with no signs of anything unusual catching our attention.

At least not until a hazy azure spot suddenly appeared in my vision ahead of me.

“Hold up,” I whispered in an urgent tone, everyone instantly stopping the second that they heard my voice. “I see magic ahead.”

“Shit, do we need to move?” Lazarus asked, his head turning to look at me as I crept forward past him and the other scouts.

“No, I think we’re okay right now,” I replied, holding onto my ætherscope tightly as I inspected the source, seeing it was fixed in place. “Whatever it is, it’s not moving, but I can’t make out any more than that from here. I need to get closer.”

Signaling for them to follow, the five of us crept forward in the direction of the magic that I’d spotted, our eyes and ears straining to take in everything of the surrounding forest with renewed caution. As we moved, I saw the faint spot that had originally caught my attention grow gradually brighter and easier to see. Where it first appeared as a barely noticeable glow of azure in the distance, it slowly resolved itself into an indistinct bloblike shape, taking on a white-blue tint the more the distance between us shrank.

“This thing looks strange,” I whispered back to the party in the loudest voice that I dared, my gaze never moving from the formless aura of magic that continued to grow ahead of me. “It looks like it’s just a…cloud of magic or something. I can’t even begin to guess at what it is.”

“Do you think it’s related to the smell we’re following, or even the Dread Crew camp?” Huxley stated in a hushed voice from behind me. “The stench is getting stronger, and this is roughly where I’d expect to find the place.”

“It might very well be,” I replied as I signaled for the group to slow down to a crawl as the trees around us began to grow less dense, causing the forest to open up ahead of us. “In either case, we’re about to find out. Move slowly and don’t go past me. We’re not that far away from whatever it is now.”

Leading the group forward with all the caution that I could muster, I slowly moved in the direction of the magic ahead, noting that with every step I took both it and the stench of decay continued to intensify. But as we pressed onwards and the trees began to clear, we found our attention drawn away from the mystery that lay ahead and onto our more immediate surroundings.

“W-what the hell happened here?” I whispered back to the group as I came to a complete stop, my eyes darting everywhere as they tried to make sense of the destruction that we’d stumbled onto.

Canted in all directions, the shapes of dozens of broken and damaged trees filled the area ahead as far as I could see. Everywhere I looked, I could see branches and trunks cracked and splintered as if a team of wrecking balls had attempted to clear out a patch of forest, sending debris everywhere. But as if the scene of shattered trees wasn’t enough to take in on its own, it was the remains of what had clearly been the Dread Crew camp that called out for our attention.

Smashed and destroyed in a similar fashion as the forest around it, my eyes first landed on the remains of the sharpened wooden stakes that had marked the camp’s border, the once defensive fixtures now fit for little more than kindling. Glancing beyond them as I continued my inspection of the place, I was able to make out the vague shapes of what I assumed had once been a row of lean-tos, a fallen tree having flattened them completely.

“I-I have no idea,” Cerril replied as we all continued to stare out at the scene we’d stumbled on to, caught off guard by both the camp’s sudden appearance and savage destruction it displayed.

“It looks like something attacked the place,” Huxley offered, speaking in a slow and methodical tone as a fresh wave of pungent rot assaulted our senses, its source coming directly from the camp ahead. “Either that or they had a really fun time destroying the place.”

“You could say that again,” Lazarus whispered, his eyes searching everywhere for threats as he spoke. “But in either case, what the hell could shatter trees like that?”

“Nothing that’s good for us I imagine,” I replied softly, taking in a shallow breath through my mouth as I shifted my attention back towards the magic that had guided us here. In the short distance forward that we’d traveled, the aura had managed to not only resolve itself even further but had since split into three vaguely mound-like shapes clustered close together somewhere deeper into the camp.

Not sure what to make of the developments, be it regarding the magical signatures and scent that we’d followed or the camp’s destruction, I briefly debated halting our progress and regrouping with the raid before continuing any farther. At first glance, it seemed that one of the rare boss creatures that I’d been concerned about encountering in the Hartwyld had befallen the Dread Crew’s base long before our arrival, effectively destroying it for us and chasing the adventurers away. Yet as I considered the group’s abandonment of Shadow’s Fall and Carver’s devious nature, I found myself hesitant to take the place’s appearance at face value, knowing that there could still be a trap waiting for us somewhere ahead.

“Let’s keep going,” I said to the group in a hushed voice as I made my decision to press deeper into the camp. “We need to see if we can find out what did this, if only so the raid doesn’t walk into a trap or an angry critter looking to do to us what it did to the camp.”

Saying nothing, everyone in the group simply nodded at my words, and in short order afterward, we were all moving again and soon found ourselves entering the remains of the Dread Crew’s camp. Stalking forward with the utmost care, the next few minutes passed by slowly as we picked our way through the debris, spotting even more signs of destruction.

<I can hear nothing but whispers of the others behind us,> Amaranth said to me as we moved, his words echoing the distant sounds that flowed across our shared link signaling the raid’s proximity. <This den is empty and so is the forest around us.>

<Empty of everything except whatever this magic ahead of us is,> I replied to the cat as I guided the group around a tangled nest of trees that blocked the way towards what had once been the camp’s inner heart.

As we rounded the trees, I was able to finally see the source of the azure auras in my vision, my eyes landing on three large mounds of what appeared to be black and grey mud. A near overwhelming wave of decay and rot emanated outward from each of them, leaving us with no doubt that they were the source of the smell that we’d followed. Holding my breath as best as I could, I glanced between the trio as I took in the scene, seeing that one of the decaying mud piles was sitting directly in the remains of what once had been a roughly constructed log hut. The others were farther into the clearing, one of them partially obscured in what looked like a large pile of leaves around it, with the second being roughly two dozen feet adjacent to it.

Staring at the scene warily as I finished rounding the broken trees, I scanned over each of the mounds, trying to figure out why they would register as magical in the first place. Unfortunately, however, there was nothing obvious that I could see from a distance, save for the fact that whatever the mud was, it was actively generating its own magic and not channeling it from somewhere else. After watching it for a few seconds in hopes that I would discover something else, I found myself dismissing True Sight and attempting a more mundane inspection of the mounds—an approach which proved itself just as fruitless. Aside from random forest debris, there was nothing of interest in any of the decaying mud piles or a clue to what their purpose was.

Assuming that they have one in the first place and that these mounds of mud are in fact mud at all and not something a bit more…vile, I thought as the anticipation of discovering the source of the stench and magic started to wane, leaving me feeling slightly lost at what to do next. But before I could even consider any next steps, I heard a faint grunt of surprise echo out from beside me, prompting me to glance over towards Cerril and see that he was staring intently at something.

“What is it?” I asked in a hushed tone, deciding to risk a whisper. “Did you see something?”

“I don’t know,” the elf replied, shaking his head quickly. “I could have sworn I saw something move, but there’s nothing—wait, there!”

The elf finished speaking by raising his hand and pointing in the direction of the mud pile by the destroyed hut.

“Look at that one and tell me that there isn’t a skull sticking out of it now.”

All of us turned to follow Cerril’s outstretched finger, our gazes landing on a particularly large mound of mud just in front of the collapsed structure, which indeed did happen to have a large elk skull protruding from it, and it was staring right back at us.

“Uh,” Lazarus whispered hesitantly. “Was that there a second ago?”

“I don’t think so…” I replied, feeling a chill rush down my spine as I glanced around the suddenly-too-dark-and-quiet forest. “Hang on, let me take a closer look.”

Staring ahead at the skull, I reactivated True Sight, instantly seeing the shadows around me vanish as my vision took on a faint azure hue.

They bloomed a second later with a bright crimson magical signature in the exact same spot that I’d last seen the skull.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed, flinching at the unexpected sight. “There’s something different about the—”

But before I could finish speaking, a pained scream cut through the air and interrupted me, while at the same time, the eyes of the elk skull in front of us flared with dark, nearly pitch-black energy. Immediately afterward, the mound that the skull was sitting on began to undulate wildly, changing shape as it began to collect itself, rapidly growing taller as it assumed a vaguely humanoid shape.

“Oh, shit! Back up!” I shouted to the group, everyone’s feet already moving as the need for stealth suddenly became moot.

However, before we could put any distance between us and camp, two other dark auras suddenly sprang into existence in my vision. One of these belonging to a dripping wet alligator skull that was rising from the mound of mud surrounded by the leaves, which evidently had been concealing a pool of water. The other emanated from a vicious-looking bear skull at the farthest end of the clearing, the mud rising to give it shape. As if on cue, the two new skulls then began to rise, another set of tortured voices join the first, plunging the forest into an endless cacophony of screaming.

“I guess we know now what happened to the camp!” Lazarus shouted as we rapidly backpedaled away from the scene, all of us stumbling over the debris underfoot.

“No shit!” Huxley exclaimed. “What the hell are these things?! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Fuck if I have a clue!” I replied, deactivating True Sight as one of the beings took a lumbering step towards us, its body having since finished forming, allowing me a chance to quickly appraise it. “But we’re sure as hell about to find out!”

Standing at a little over nine feet tall, the creature was a wild amalgamation of black-grey mud intermixed with leaves, branches, and larger scraps of forest debris comprising its grossly misshapen body. Where its left arm appeared to be sleek and thin, bearing what looked to be a set of razor-sharp claws, its right was built thick and powerfully, all the better to support the large clublike fist that was set on the end of it. Then finally, resting high on top of the creature’s shoulders was the elk skull that we’d seen earlier, its eyes blazing with pure darkness as it advanced towards us, the small tag that I’d been waiting for finally appearing in my vision.

[Corrupted Guardian] – Boss – Level 25

And then, with a sudden burst of blinding speed, it lunged towards us.

Chapter 15

“Move!” I shouted needlessly as all five of us reflexively scrambled to get out of the charging elk guardian’s path, everyone already in motion before the words even left my mouth. Dodging to the left as fast as my legs could take me, I found myself half a step ahead of Amaranth and Huxley, the pair having chosen to follow me in their attempt to find safety, with Lazarus and Cerril escaping in the opposite direction.

Where the hell did these things come from? The desperate thought flew through my mind as I twisted to avoid the slow-moving wrecking ball that was the guardian’s right arm, the blow just barely sailing past us and promptly reducing a medium-sized tree a few yards behind from where we were standing into a spray of splinters.

“Damn!” Huxley exclaimed as the broken tree then began to fall, making it only a few feet before getting caught in the branches above and coming to a stop. “Definitely don’t get hit by that!”

“No kidding!” I exclaimed, managing to draw Splinter as I continued my retreat away from the elk skull guardian, its wailing screams not having let up for a second since the battle had begun.

<The other two are on the move!> Amaranth’s voice rang through my mind as we continued to dance away from the creature which had chosen to fixate on the three us, a sweeping claw slicing through the spot that we’d just been standing in.

“Shit! We have more incoming!” I called out, turning my head to see two rapidly approaching shapes out of the corner of my eye. One was rushing straight towards us, with the second running at a wider angle, its attention mercifully focused on Lazarus and Cerril instead of us.

Not that surviving two boss-ranked creatures two levels higher than us is going to be easy, I thought desperately, feeling the world begin to slow as I triggered Alacrity, a surge of magic slowly rising up from inside me and across the link I shared with Amaranth.

“Huxley, get clear!” I shouted to the scout, hoping to buy the man a few seconds to put some distance between himself and the coming melee.

I barely had a chance to finish my sentence before Amaranth and I were forced to dodge a descending fist as the second mud creature charged into range, the shrouded bear skull that I’d seen earlier sitting atop its shoulders. Feeling the ground shake as the limb slammed into the ground beside me, I forced myself forward, darting past a follow-up swipe from its claw-tipped arm. Slashing as I moved, I felt Splinter carve a shallow line across the attacking forearm, the mud that it was made of parting like water under the blade’s edge. Surprised at the lack of resistance from the attack, I at first thought I had missed entirely before the guardian suddenly recoiled away from me in pain, its screaming voice warbling as it pulled its wounded limb back closer to its body.

Damn, I just barely grazed it, but it seemed like I really hurt the thing! I exclaimed mentally, surprised at the mud creature’s reaction as I ducked under a second claw, this one belonging to the first creature. Forcing myself back up, I briefly caught sight of Amaranth’s blurred form rush past me, the cat wasting no time in pressing his attack.

Putting the mystery of my attack’s effectiveness to the side, I forced myself to keep moving and followed on my familiar’s heels who charged in close towards the elk skull guardian, swiping a heavy paw at what passed for its knee. Connecting solidly, I saw his claws take a large chunk out of its muddy surface and cause the creature to falter, its scream also shifting in pitch from the attack. But instead of retreating like its companion had, it instead chose to lunge forward, sweeping both of its arms in front of it, hoping to catch us with nowhere to go.

And it would have, had we not had an emergency escape route handy.

<Step!> I shouted to Amaranth while readying a pair of spells in my mind, the outstretched limbs rapidly closing in. Almost instantly, I felt my familiar grab onto my proffered spell through our link, the world then promptly dissolving into a spray of colors as we both triggered Blink Step, teleporting away from the two creatures at the edge of the ability’s range.

<What are these beasts?> my familiar demanded as we reappeared, reality resuming its normal rate of speed as I dismissed my Alacrity spell in an attempt to conserve mana. <Its flesh tore away like air under my attack!>

<Mine too!> I replied, taking advantage of our moment of relative safety and quickly calling up my combat log, noticing a differently colored notification that I hadn’t seen since my first day playing Ascend Online.

Your weapon has bypassed Damage Reduction and has dealt Bonus Damage!

You slash [Corrupted Guardian] for 104 (+25%) points of damage!

Shit! These things have damage reduction! I realized, my eyes widening in surprise as I skimmed through the rest of the log, noticing the exact same for Amaranth’s attack.

By far one of the more annoying things to deal with, damage reduction tended to make monsters impossibly tougher to deal with, forcing adventurers to grind through whatever resistances it had with either sheer brute force or have a weapon capable of bypassing it entirely. Luckily, it seemed that Amaranth and I were both fortunate to have such a weapon.

But unfortunately, I doubted that the others did.

It has to be Amaranth’s ætherwarped nature and my æthertouched weapon, I thought, my mind racing as I looked back at the battle, seeing that the two guardians that we’d fled from were twisting around in search of us, while the third was actively fighting both Lazarus and Cerril. Even with our ability to pierce through its damage reduction, there was no way the five of us would be able to do anything other than try and survive the three creatures until help arrived. Which thankfully should be any second now. I can sense them rushing this—

Of course, it was when I was in the middle of that thought that I felt Cerril die.

“Damn it!” Lazarus’s voice shouted, loud enough to be heard over the guardians’ screaming. “Cerril’s down! I’m going to need help here! Fast!”

“Oh, shit,” I whispered under my breath as my head snapped in the direction of the half-giant’s voice, seeing him now sprinting away from the alligator skull guardian, which doggedly lumbered after him. Taking a single step in the direction of the man, I prepared to rush to his aid, but a familiar voice calling out my name caused me to hesitate.

“Lyrian!” Sierra exclaimed breathing heavily as she and her scouts suddenly appeared from the camp far to my right. “What is going on? What the hell are these things?!”

“Hell if I know!” I answered, feeling a wave of relief course through me at the prospect of more help arriving. “But it’s pretty clear they’re responsible for all this!”

“Shit!” Sierra called back in disbelief, her head visibly shaking at the news. “What do you need from us now?!”

“Keep those two busy if you can! I’m going to help Lazarus!” I called back, taking another step forward and launching myself into a run, Amaranth joining me by my side. “But be careful! They hit hard and have physical damage reduction! Try magic if you can!”

“Got it!” Sierra replied, a bright flash of magic punctuating her response as someone in her group promptly followed my instructions.

Trusting that they would keep the two mud creatures occupied, I temporarily put them out of my mind and focused on reaching Lazarus, seeing the half-giant scrambling wildly to keep ahead of his guardian. But as hard-pressed as the man was, I noticed that his scrambling had a purpose as it kept the creature’s back facing towards us.

Thereby giving us a perfect target to focus on.

<Jump onto its back!> I told Amaranth, running as fast as my legs would carry me. <Knock it down if you can! We need to buy as much time as possible until the guild arrives!>

Receiving a mental growl in response, Amaranth and I closed with our target, the cat pulling ahead in the final stretch before leaping through the air and slamming into the guardian’s back. Caught completely unaware by the attack, there was little that a creature even of its size could do to absorb over eight hundred pounds of angry puma unexpectedly hitting it from behind, sending it crashing to the ground with a wet sounding splat. Without wasting a second, I saw Amaranth began to savage the fallen guardian, his claws raking across its muddy surface and causing a fresh wave of rot to fill the air just in time for my arrival. Holding my breath at the rancid stench, I didn’t hesitate in falling beside my familiar, leaping onto the prone body in an attempt to help keep it down. Landing onto the creature, I was surprised to find the mud feel hard and firm under my boots, my feet finding easy purchase on its back.

Might have something to do with its damage reduction maybe? I thought briefly while slashing Splinter across the being’s back, using the opportunity to drain mana from it as the blade sliced deep into its muddy flesh. But instead of feeling the familiar flow of cool mana flow up my arm, I was greeted by a sharp burning sensation that caused my stomach to roil followed by a surge of nausea shooting through me.

Ugh, what the hell was that? I exclaimed mentally, my body’s unexpected reaction nearly causing me to leap off the creature. But as quickly as the sensation had appeared, it vanished, leaving the ever-present hunger within me feeling sated for the first time that I could remember. Confused beyond measure by what I’d just experienced, I forced myself to abandon my mana draining efforts until I could figure out what had happened, choosing instead to stab Splinter deep into the monster beneath me. Thrusting through the otherwise hard mud effortlessly, my blade sank several inches into the guardian’s body before suddenly coming to a stop as it scraped across something solid and rough, causing a jarring sensation to shoot up my arms.

Is there something inside of its body? I asked myself just before a familiar blood-curdling scream rose from the guardian, its body beginning to wildly buck and thrash as it began to push itself up from the ground. Struggling to keep my balance on the now-moving creature, I realized that we only had seconds before it rose to its feet, and we would be forced to jump off it. To that end, I decided to probe whatever that I had hit, thrusting Splinter’s tip deep into its body until it once again struck something hard and then threw my full weight against it.

At first, I felt whatever was inside the mud-covered torso resist, prompting me to twist my blade savagely in an attempt to bore a hole straight through whatever it was up against. As I twisted, I felt my blade slip into an unseen groove and suddenly sink deeper, plunging straight into the creature until barely a hand’s width remained between the hilt and body. Surprised by the unexpected movement, I lost my already precarious balance, falling heavily against the guardian’s back, which promptly screamed with a yet unheard before level of anguish. Scrambling to keep a hold of my weapon as the guardian’s thrashing intensified, I saw Amaranth leap off the creature from beside me, unable to maintain his balance any longer.

Time to go! I told myself as I hurriedly braced a leg against the creature’s back and yanked sharply on Splinter, feeling it pull free with a wet sucking sound. Anchor point gone, I found myself sliding off the guardian and landing on the ground with a heavy thump, barely getting my feet under me in time.

“Shit, thanks for the assist there, Lyrian!” I heard Lazarus’s voice call out as I rolled away from the creature and towards Amaranth, dodging under a flailing claw in the process. “I thought I was done for!”

“Happy to help!” I called back as I pushed myself back up onto my feet beside my familiar and spun to face the guardian which continued to thrash uncontrollably, causing all three of us to rapidly back away from it from our various angles.

Now, just what the hell happened earlier when I tried to drain the guardian? I asked myself, using the brief lull that we’d found ourselves in to look at my combat log in search of answers.

Your [Mana Leech] drains 78 (+25%) mana from [Corrupted Guardian]!

Your [Mana Leech] hits [Corrupted Guardian] for 78 (+25%) points of damage!

You have absorbed [Corruption]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 2%!

Your [Hunger] devours [Corruption], restoring 100 points of mana!

Your Corruption Counter has decreased to 0%.

There’s a corruption counter now? What on Earth is that? And what did my hunger do to it? I asked myself, the array of questions hitting me all at once as I finished skimming the log. But no sooner did they all finish forming in my mind, they were all ruthlessly pushed to the side, thanks to a loud mental shout from Amaranth.

<Your blade! You made it bleed!> Amaranth exclaimed as we circled the monster warily, trying to keep at the edge of its range. <How? I tore at it as best as I could without drawing any forth!>

<What?> I asked in confusion, glancing over at my familiar for a split second before my brain caught up with his words. Turning my head, I focused on my sword, seeing that the better part of it was covered in a bright red substance.

Blood.

But before I could even comment on the revelation, it was Constantine’s voice that split the air, he and his scouts having apparently arrived sometime during the chaos.

“Bear skull guardian is getting loose!” he shouted in a panicked tone, which was abruptly followed by the sensation of two scouts dying via raid sense. “Shit! Check that! He’s completely loose! Look out!”

“Heads up, Lyr!” Sierra’s voice called out a second afterward. “It’s coming straight for you guys!”

“Oh, damn it,” I cursed, taking my eyes off my weapon and glancing to my right, seeing that our situation was about to rapidly deteriorate even further. Having broken away from both its partner and the other groups, the aforementioned monster was now charging across the length of the Dread Crew’s shattered camp, making a straight beeline for the three of us.

Realizing that I had seconds to act before it was on top of us, I twisted away from the wounded guardian and shouted out as I broke into a sprint. “I’ll try and slow him down! You two keep this guy busy!”

Rushing away from Amaranth and Lazarus before either of them could respond, I charged towards the oncoming guardian, the bare bones of a plan coming to mind as I activated Alacrity. It was riskier than I felt comfortable doing in any other circumstance, but if it worked, I’d be able to at least break its charge and hopefully buy myself a few seconds afterward to come up with something else.

“Hopefully” being the key word there, I thought pessimistically as I watched the lumbering strides of my oncoming target and waited until the opportunity I was looking for arose. There!

Reaching for a pair of the new spells that I’d recently learned, I first triggered my newly upgraded Blink Strike, the higher-leveled spell mercifully holding together as it took shape. An instant later, I found myself reappearing at near point-blank range in front of the guardian as it planted its right foot on the ground, Splinter’s glowing edge already biting deep into it. Knowing that everything depended on my timing afterward, I promptly threw myself into a forward roll just past the mud creature’s side, ducking under a slashing claw while simultaneously casting my second spell, Arcane Chains. Targeting it towards the creature’s trailing leg, I briefly saw a length of ethereal chains materialize into existence and begin to wrap themselves around the limb before vanishing out of view, dirt completely filling my vision as I somersaulted across the rough ground.

Completing my roll, I pushed myself back up and twisted to look back at the creature and my handiwork. But before I could even turn a quarter of the way, my world exploded in pain, and my Alacrity spell abruptly ended as something impossibly heavy slammed into my side, the force of which was enough to lift me up off my feet and send me sailing through the air. Spinning uncontrollably, it was all I could do to hold onto Splinter as I flew, my flight eventually coming to a sudden stop as I crashed into a tree and then promptly fell to the ground.

Or I would have, except for what I landed on wasn’t in fact ground but the pool of fetid water that we’d seen one of the guardians rise from earlier.

Falling into the water with a loud splash, I had enough sense left to hold my breath as I landed, my body sinking down a few feet until it reached the bottom of the relatively shallow pool. Floating completely insensate for several seconds, I worked on attempting to focus past the pain that was radiating through my left side and hip, barely noticing a series of bright red notifications in my combat log.

A [Corrupted Guardian] hits you with [Sweeping Backhand] for 540 points of damage!

You have been stunned!

You have been sent flying!

You strike a [Tree] for 157 points of damage!

Ugh, how…the hell did it even hit me? I mentally groaned as I read through the log, feeling my injured side pulsing in sync with my heartbeat. I didn’t even see anything—

A heavy splash breaking the surface of the water above me suddenly interrupted my thoughts, followed closely behind by a loud mental shout.

<Lyrian!> Amaranth’s worried voice called out to me. <Are you able to surface?>

<I…think so,> I replied slowly, feeling the stunning effects of my injury begin to fade at my familiar’s urgent shout. Pulling myself together, I moved my leg and arm experimentally, finding the experience painful, but not so much to signal me that I’d managed to break something important.

Thankful that I could still move, I planted my feet against the muddy ground and pushed myself upwards, feeling a spike of pain shoot through my hip just before my head broke the surface. Immediately, the thunderous sound of magic flooded into my ears, followed by a series of brightly flashing lights. Blinking blindly at the unexpected assault on my vision, I didn’t even have the chance to clear my eyes before I felt something grab me roughly by the shoulder and drag me to one side.

<It’s me!> the puma exclaimed in a reassuring tone as I involuntarily flinched at the contact before seeing the blurry image of his massive paw on my shoulder. <The others are finally arriving!>

<They are?> I asked, using my free hand that wasn’t holding Splinter to clear my eyes before looking back towards the battle and spotting the leading edge of Virtus in the process of charging through the abandoned camp, with both Drace and Freya having already engaged two of the three rampaging guardians. <Damn, they are! We need to get over there!>

<And what is it do you think that I am trying to do here?> Amaranth growled back at me as his head dipped downwards and a set of jaws clamped down on my shoulder, biting down just hard enough to find purchase on my armor. The next thing I knew was my familiar pulling me bodily out of the murky pool and onto the ground beside it as if I weighed nothing.

<There!> he exclaimed afterward, releasing his grip on my shoulder.

“Thanks, Amaranth,” I told the cat as I tenderly pushed myself up from the ground, feeling a new bone on bone grinding sensation somewhere in my hip that hadn’t been there earlier. Grimacing at the unsettling feeling, I did my best to push it to the corner of my mind as I took a tentative step back towards the battle, trying to determine where we were most needed.

Drace and Freya look like they have the bear and elk guardians under control right now, I thought, spotting the pair, along with several groups from Virtus, swarming the two creatures. That just leaves the alligator—

“Heads up!” Constantine’s voice suddenly tore through the air, interrupting my thoughts and causing me to snap my head in its direction. “It’s starting to cast a spell or something! Look out!”

It’s starting to do what? Constantine’s words rang loudly in my ears as I looked towards the turning elk skull guardian just in time to see the swirling well of emerald magic in its jaws, which promptly exploded into a torrent of rotting filth. Spreading out in a wide cone in front of the creature, a seemingly endless wave of the toxic vomit sprayed out through the air, catching a pair of scouts from point-blank range. Vanishing under its onslaught, neither of them even had the time to cry out before I felt their presences vanish from raid sense and reappear back in the direction of Aldford.

But as if its ability hadn’t done enough damage already before it came to an end, the guardian turned, its cone of vomit following its movements and bathing more than half of the raid in the process. I managed to see a handful of Force Shields appear at the last second to partially blunt the attack, but by then the damage had already been done. In an instant, it had managed to stall the momentum of the arriving adventurers while simultaneously wounding a score of others.

“Oh, damn it!” I exclaimed, watching the two other guardians suddenly stop moving, a similar sickly green light beginning to form inside their jaws. Realizing that everything hinged on preventing the two mud creatures from getting off their abilities at the raid, I didn’t even hesitate in moving. Ignoring the grating sensation in my hip as I worked myself up into a run, I rapidly built up what speed I could before shouting the all too familiar codeword Amaranth and I used to signal rapid movement.

“Step!”

Feeling the magic grab hold of us, I felt myself shift across the distance separating us and the two guardians, reappearing between both of them. Sizing up the situation in a single glance, I felt my heart sink as I realized the two creatures were just a little too far from one another for my original plan to work.

I hope I have enough health for this, the fleeting thought crossed my mind as I stretched my hand out towards the guardian farthest from me, summoning up the hunger that lurked deep within my core, because this is going to hurt!

Reaching out at the still-forming well of magic in the alligator skull guardian, I focused the growing hunger on it, feeling the mana within bend to my will. With a mental twist, I yanked the energy towards me, seeing the swirling maelstrom vanish. Then, without pausing to acknowledge the searing pain that shot through my body, I called up the hunger for a second time, this time reaching out for every mote of mana around me and finding a single burning source nearby. With a thought, I pulled it inwards, feeling another torrent of burning energy surge through me followed by my stomach threatening to empty itself right where I stood. This time, however, I couldn’t ignore the pain that followed that sensation, the intensity of which forced me down to my knees as my injured hip finally gave way. A series of flashing notifications then appeared in my combat log, followed by a chirping warning sound.

You successfully interrupt [Corrupted Guardian]’s [Corrupted Vomit] with [Mana Leech]!

You have drained 310 points of mana from [Corrupted Guardian]!

You have taken 119 points of damage from using [Mana Leech]!

You have absorbed [Corruption]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 8%!

Your [Hunger] devours [Corruption], restoring 100 points of mana!

Your Corruption Counter has decreased to 6%.

You successfully interrupt [Corrupted Guardian]’s [Corrupted Vomit] with [Mana Torrent]!

You have drained 100 points of mana from [Corrupted Guardian]!

You have taken 298 points of damage from using [Mana Torrent]!

You have absorbed [Corruption]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 8%!

You are low on Health!

HP: 374/1488

“Ugh,” I groaned weakly as a storm of pain and nausea surged through me, managing a single agonizing breath before Amaranth’s head unexpectedly shoved itself up and under my right arm, his mental voice calling out.

<Grab hold!> he ordered as he forced his head underneath my arm and lifted me partially off the ground. <We must flee! The creature turns our way!>

Reacting faster than I could speak, I didn’t waste any time in following my familiar’s instructions, tightening my grip around his neck with my good arm, taking care not to accidentally stab either of us with my sword in the process. An instant afterward, I felt Amaranth’s body lunge forward as he broke into a sprint, charging just under a large shadow that suddenly swept past us which was promptly followed by a loud crash. Struggling to hold onto my familiar as he half carried, half dragged me to safety, I caught a brief sight of the raid as they recovered from the spray of vomit and charged the three guardians. But before I could make any further details out, a sweeping claw filled my vision, and Amaranth put on a burst of speed in an attempt to evade it, barely managing to dodge and twist past the attack.

Then just like that, we were past the guardian and into the heart of the raid, Amaranth coming to a stop near its rear ranks, panting heavily from his rapid exertion.

“Lyrian! Amaranth! Are you two okay?” Theia’s voice was the first to call out as I relaxed my grip on Amaranth and glanced around my surroundings, finding myself in a pocket of healers as they tended to the various wounded from the battle.

“We’ve been better,” I said slowly, wincing as I fully let go of Amaranth and slid off him, taking care to land on my good leg. Mercifully, in our short run across the battlefield, the strange nausea that had been afflicting me had managed to pass, leaving me only with pain to endure. “Our hosts…haven’t been exactly cordial since we arrived. Plus, there’s something strange about them.”

“There’s an understatement for the day!” Theia exclaimed with a snort, her practiced eyes rapidly assessing us both for injuries. Yet as she was in the process of glancing over me, Amaranth’s balance abruptly shifted, the cat falling completely over onto the ground with a heavy thump.

<Oof,> the cat whispered weakly through our mental link. <I…do not…feel that well.>

Caught completely by surprise, I glanced down at Amaranth, instantly feeling my heart leap up into my throat as my eyes landed on a deep and bleeding claw wound in his side which ran almost the entire length of his body. Letting out a squeak of surprise, Theia lunged towards the fallen puma planting her hands right on top of the wounds, a soft golden glow filling the air a second later.

“Oh, Amaranth, you’re hurt!” she exclaimed as he let out a gurgling croak. “This will feel better in a moment!”

“Hang on, buddy,” I whispered, having twisted towards Amaranth’s side as quickly as I could and placing a reassuring hand on his head.

Seconds passed as Theia channeled energy into Amaranth, his wounds rapidly beginning to heal and shrink. Shortly after, his breathing began to even out as his deepest injuries clotted and then finally closed, the only mark of the injury remaining being the long, hairless lines that stood out against his blood-soaked fur.

“There!” Theia announced with a deep exhale as she took her bloody hands away from Amaranth’s side, the cat’s legs moving slowly as he picked himself off the ground, all signs of his previous injury gone thanks to the lizardwoman’s healing magic. “Good as new! Now…just don’t go hurting yourself again.”

“Somehow I don’t think that’s up to us,” I replied as Theia turned towards me, her hands reaching out to touch my arm and continue her healing efforts. Yet before she could do anything, the sprinting form of Caius practically crashed into us all while yelling urgently.

“Wait! Wait! Hold the healing!” the warlock shouted as he came to a stop, glancing over at Amaranth and over towards me, his hand darting out to grab me by the shoulder. “Good! Lyr, you’re still injured! Theia, let me take care of this! I need the lifetap boost!”

“You need what?” I asked, confused by the dark elf’s statement as a torrent of life energy suddenly poured into me, healing my wounds even faster than Theia had healed Amaranth’s.

“The boost to my lifetap spell I get from taking someone’s wounds,” Caius explained, a pained shudder going through his body as he spoke. “Spells aren’t affected by whatever damage reduction these things have, and this will let me hit it so much harder!”

“Assuming you can get close enough to do that!” Theia exclaimed as she turned towards the warlock, ready to say more about his chosen tactic, but before she could do so, I beat her to it.

“Wait, no, you can’t do that! You’ll absorb its corruption!” I said to Caius in an urgent tone, recalling what had happened to me earlier in the battle. “I drained mana from it twice this battle and was afflicted by something that made me sick. It’s only because of my hunger that I was able to get rid of it. Until we know more, you definitely shouldn’t lifetap it!”

“Ah, shit. Okay, so much for that idea!” Caius replied with a scowl, his attention shifting over towards Theia who was already reaching out to grasp his arm. “Sorry, looks like we’re going to need that healing after all!”

“Which is a world easier to manage than something I can’t cure!” the lizardwoman replied as she sent a wave of glowing magic into the warlock’s body. “There! That should see you well enough! Now go put an end to those monsters before they wreak even more havoc. I’ve put enough people back together today already!”

“We’ll try!” I called to the woman as Caius and I took our cue to rejoin the battle. “Thanks for the heals!”

Without needing to say anything further, the three of us broke into a run and charged back into battle, which had continued to rage viciously since my desperate interruption of both creatures’ magical attacks. Taking the lead as we ran, I quickly surveyed the battlefield and angled us towards the guardian on the far-right flank, the creature looking far worse for wear since the last time I’d seen it.

Missing a piece of its jaw and bearing several large cracks across it, the alligator skull atop the creature’s body looked ready to fall apart, its body looking no better, with large chunks of mud visibly dripping off it. In fact, so much of the rotting substance had fallen away from it, that I was able to catch a glimpse of what looked like a thick and interwoven collection of roots comprising its core, with rivulets of blood streaming free from deep puncture marks. I still didn’t have any idea why or even how the creature was bleeding, but just the mere sight of it encouraged me and gave me hope that we’d be able to kill it sooner or later.

“I’m going for its head to distract it!” I called out as we closed with the guardian, spotting both Lazarus and Sawyer on either side of the creature with Ransom, Zethus, and a handful of other ranged attackers loosely surrounding it. Judging by the markings on the ground, there’d also been other melee attackers with the group at one point in time, but there was little mystery in my mind to what had happened to them since. “The rest of you take it down when you see a chance!”

Hearing a wordless grunt from the group, I put on a burst of speed as I charged forward, channeling a stream of mana into my hand and shaping it into a Jump spell. An instant later, I lunged forward, the powerful leap sending me bounding straight towards the guardian faster than my feet could take me. Landing just inside the creature’s reach before it could react, I jumped straight upwards, weaving a new spell in my hand as I rose. Feeling the spell twist and roil as I channeled it, I felt it come just shy of disintegrating completely, barely managing to form as I came level with the guardian’s head. Shouting with exertion, I thrust my hand out forward and sent a blast of pure fire towards the creature’s skull, searing it with a torrent of flame and ash.

Lasting for a second, my Flameburst spell ended almost as soon as it began, and I suddenly felt gravity reassert its hold on me, pulling me back down to the ground. Landing lightly on my feet, I didn’t stay to inspect my work and promptly threw myself forward in a roll between the creature’s legs, managing to avoid the grasping claw that slammed into the spot that I’d just been standing in. Finding myself on the opposite side of the guardian, I just had enough time to spin around before a loud roar from Amaranth combined with a shout from Lazarus split the air, the massive mud monster visibly recoiling from our combined attacks by falling to one knee.

Sensing opportunity, I didn’t hesitate to take advantage of the creature’s slip, my body moving seemingly without any conscious thought. Taking a pair of steps back and carefully timing my movements, I used the extra space to rush forward and jump directly onto the creature’s back. This time, however, instead of focusing my attention on stabbing it in the back, I instead angled my leap farther forward so that I landed closer to its shoulders, throwing my arm around the base of its skull to hold me in place.

Hanging from my newfound perch, I sharply pulled myself upwards as I thrust out with Splinter, guiding the tip of my sword directly under the skull’s jaw and then stabbing upwards. Connecting with a solid crack, I felt bone shatter and give way from under my attack, the blade gliding straight through the guardian’s skull until it pierced through a broken eye socket that had been damaged earlier in the battle. Instantly, I felt the creature recoil from under me as it stood once again, its movements becoming panicked as it twisted from side to side in an attempt to dislodge me.

Holding on as tightly as I could, I began to alternate between draining mana from the guardian and casting Flameburst at point-blank range, accepting the twisting nausea coursing through my stomach while searing the skull completely black. As I did so, I made sure to use the leverage that Splinter provided to violently twist the creature’s head, doing my best to keep its gaze shifted away from the others below. Continuing to scramble, the mud creature began to noticeably weaken as several violent impacts that I couldn’t see slammed into its body, the dark energy burning within its skull growing fainter with each one that landed. Sensing that victory was finally within reach, I planted a knee in the creature’s back and yanked even harder on my sword, this time putting both my full weight and strength behind it.

Feeling my blade bite deep into the skull at first, there was a momentary instant of resistance to my efforts before a sudden cracking sensation shot through Splinter’s hilt, followed by my leverage abruptly vanishing as it came free. Eyes widening at the unexpected motion, I reflexively moved to catch myself on the guardian’s back, but I found my hand passing through nothing but air. Letting out a brief shout of surprise, the next thing I knew I was falling once again as I rode the guardian to the ground, the sudden impact afterward more than enough to knock me off the creature’s back.

Hitting the ground shoulder first, I felt myself bounce twice before coming to a stop, fate mercifully intervening and preventing me from accidentally cutting something important off with Splinter in the process. With adrenaline still coursing through my body, I didn’t dare waste a second lying prone, rolling away from my landing spot and jumping to my feet. It was only when I turned to face the fallen form of the guardian that I realized my haste was in vain, its massive form lying lifelessly on the ground along with the shattered remains of its skull.

“Finally!” Sawyer exclaimed, exhaling a deep breath as he spoke. “I never thought it’d go down!”

“I was starting to think the same too,” I agreed breathing hard as I looked down at the fragmented bone scattered before it, any traces of the darkness that had been housed within now gone. Exhaling a sharp sigh of relief, I prepared myself to start moving again, remembering that there were still two more of the mud creatures to deal with. “Well, that’s one down at least…”

“More than one,” Lazarus corrected, prompting me to look up from the fallen guardian and twist in the half-giant’s direction, seeing him staring in the direction of the raid, his body visibly relaxing. “Actually, on second thought, it looks like the others have things well in hand without us.”

Following his gaze, I turned my body and easily spotted another one of the guardians lying lifelessly on the ground much like ours, save for the fact that there was a large spear protruding directly from its back, its entire length covered in bright red blood. With a blink, I recognized the spear as belonging to Freya, my eyes widening as I searched for her without avail. Feeling a slight spike of panic well up from within, it vanished as fast as it had appeared as I saw her pull herself free from under the guardian in question, the mud that had comprised its body rapidly beginning to disintegrate.

Turning to look towards the third and final mud monster, I barely managed to move my head before the keening wail that had been steadily filling the air since the battle had begun abruptly came to a stop. But before its echoing cry could fully begin to fade from the forest, it was drowned out by an unexpected ringing chime that rang through my ears, followed by a bright notification in the center of my vision.

Congratulations! You have reached Level 24!

“And that makes three,” I announced, temporarily dismissing the newly gained level as the forest fell silent, spotting both Drace and Constantine across the length of what remained of the Dread Crew’s camp, the pair partially blocking the fallen form of the last guardian.

“It does,” Lazarus agreed, side-stepping slightly to stand beside me as everyone surveyed their surroundings and came down from the battle. “Gods, what a mess.”

“You could say that again,” I replied, letting out a deep sigh as I shifted my eyes to look down at the remains of the guardian that we’d killed, noticing that the mud it had been comprised of was rapidly thinning. But as it did, I noticed that there was something buried within its depths that was gradually becoming visible.

Something large.

Staring at the pile of mud as it continued to thin out, I saw a thick and interwoven cluster of roots appear, at first recognizing it as what I’d briefly seen inside the guardian’s body during the battle. However, as more of the object became visible, I realized that I was staring at something akin to a cocoon, its shape stretching little more than half as wide and tall as I was. Yet, for as surprising its appearance was, it wasn’t the cocoon itself that caught my attention.

But rather the blood slowly oozing out of it.

“W-What the hell is that?” I heard Sawyer whisper, his voice sounding nervous as he spoke. “Is that…thing actually bleeding?”

“It sure looks like it…” I started to stay before the cocoon suddenly moved, rocking ever so slightly from side to side, causing me to flinch and raise Splinter. “Oh shit!”

<Did you hear that?> Amaranth suddenly interrupted, the cat fearlessly trotting halfway towards the cocoon before looking back at me with a wide-eyed expression on his face.

“Hear what?” I demanded, taking a hesitant step forward and seeing the strange object move once again.

<It spoke!> Amaranth exclaimed urgently as he ran right up beside it, going as far as to place a paw on its side. <Come closer! Listen!>

Swallowing hard, I decided to put my faith in my familiar and rushed forward towards the cocoon, bending down beside it. It was only then, when I was in close proximity to it, that I finally heard something that caused my blood to go completely cold.

A desperate feminine voice calling out from inside the nest of roots.

“Please…help…me…”

Chapter 16

“There’s someone alive inside it,” I said, staring dumbfounded at the cocoon, watching it rock again from side to side as the voice repeated itself.

“Help…help…please…” it called, the urgency increasing with every word that it spoke. “I can’t…breathe…p-please.”

Blinking at the cocoon as I processed what the voice was saying, I pushed past my shock and found myself shouting as loud as I could. “There’s someone alive inside it! Help me get this open! Quickly! Tell the others too!”

In an instant, the silence that had taken over the forest shattered, dozens of voices breaking out into panic and shouts, several of them rushing forward beside me. Reaching out, countless hands then grabbed onto the cocoon, all of them beginning to tear and pull at the roots comprising it, the brittle tubers coming apart effortlessly in our hands. Blackened blood accompanied by a fresh wave of rot spilled forth from the cocoon as we continued to peel back the layers comprising it, the smell doing little to slow us down.

“I think I see something!” I called out, tearing away a large cluster of blackened roots after what seemed like ages but in reality had just been seconds. As I did, I began to see the shape of whatever was calling out from inside it, catching a brief glimpse of what looked like pale skin. “Hold it steady!”

Waiting for a second for those around me to grab hold of the cocoon, I wrapped my hands around a final and thick mesh of tubers and violently tore them apart, using every ounce of my strength to reveal its inner heart. With a grunt and spray of black ichor, I felt the roots give way, leaving me staring directly into the horrific prison.

“Oh my god,” I whispered as I took in the sight, my heart quivering in my chest. “It’s a person!”

Nestled deep within the ichor-filled cocoon interior lay the withered and shriveled body of a woman, which despite the shock was at least in line with what I was expecting, given the desperate cries that we’d all heard earlier. What I hadn’t been expecting to find, however, was the massive wound in her naked chest that carved straight through her exposed ribs revealing blackened and rotting flesh beneath. If that wasn’t already enough, I found my eyes drawn to a massive pulsating root connected to the cocoon itself that protruded from the poor woman’s chest, having burrowed itself into the spot where I expected her heart to be.

What the hell happened to her? I asked myself in silent horror as I looked down at what I clearly recognized as an Eberian woman trapped within the cocoon’s heart. How did she end up inside this thing? Shit, forget that, how did she end up here of all places?

“Thank…thank…” the woman called out with a gasp, pulling me out of my thoughts and causing my eyes to shift upwards until they met a pair of glassy amber eyes staring back at me. “…yooou…”

No sooner were the words out, did the woman suddenly launch into a coughing fit, the root protruding out of her chest visibly contorting as she did so. A spray of blackened blood misted the air as her distress intensified, culminating in a vicious retching sound as a thick stream of liquid suddenly poured from her mouth.

“Oh, shit!” I exclaimed, flinching at the unexpected volume of blood, several other voices around me also shouting out in surprise.

“Alistair, I need you here!” Theia’s voice suddenly barked out from beside me, not wasting another second before she thrust her hands into the cocoon, placing them on the choking woman. “Same goes for anyone who can cast a heal! Get in here!”

Not needing to be told twice, bodies then began to shuffle around me as non-healing adventurers were pushed to the side, with several others taking their place around the cocoon, each of them following the lizardwoman’s lead. Shortly afterward, a bright golden glow erupted around the captive woman, and her coughing fit gradually came to a stop, only to have her begin to scream and writhe in agony, the parasitic root in her chest twisting violently. Eyes opening wide with pain, I saw the woman desperately reach out towards me with a bony hand as the healers worked, her mouth moving soundlessly as she tried to speak. Without thinking, I grasped the proffered hand and leaned in closer, immediately feeling her grip tighten around mine. Glancing down, I saw nothing but pain in her expression, her faint voice finally reaching my ears.

“Stop…stooopp…” she pleaded, her eyes fixated intently on me as she spoke. “Hurts…so much…root is digging deeper…”

“It hurts?” I repeated, feeling my own eyes widen at the woman’s news and the surprising strength that she was clutching my hand with. Turning my head towards the healers, I didn’t waste another second before shouting out, “Theia, stop! Everyone, stop healing! She says the root is hurting her!”

“That’s what we’re trying to fix!” Theia exclaimed angrily as she turned her head to look both towards me and the woman. “She won’t last much longer without our help!”

“And look at her now!” I countered as the woman let out another loud scream as the strange root contorted once more, causing her entire body to spasm. “She’s not going to last much longer with it either!”

“Ah, damn it!” Theia shouted in response, sparing the woman’s face a quick glance before shouting something else towards the healers that I couldn’t hear, the golden light fading away as the healers pulled their hands away from the woman. Breathing an audible sound of relief, the agony that had gripped the mystery woman visibly diminished as the healing magic came to an end, the writhing root buried into her chest no longer thrashing.

“Is that better?” I asked, turning to back towards the woman, feeling Theia press herself against my side in an attempt to hear her response.

“Yes…” she replied in a firmer tone than before, the healing magic having at least done some good for her despite the agony it had caused. “You…you…are not them…are you?”

“Them?” I repeated with a frown, seeing the woman rapidly blink before looking up at me once more, the glassy sheen on her eyes fading away, and her hand suddenly tightening around mine. “What do you mean? Those who used to be in this camp?”

“No…you aren’t them!” she continued excitedly, ignoring my question as if I hadn’t even spoken, her gaze sliding off of me and towards Theia. “You must be the others! The others from Aldford!”

“Wait, you know about Aldford?!” I exclaimed, a sharp spike of dread lancing through me as a distant revelation began to coalesce in the back of my mind. “How? And how did you get way out here? Did you come from Coldscar?”

“Yes, yes! I came—we came from Coldscar with many others!” the woman cried out excitedly, suddenly breaking out into tears as she began to hyperventilate and stutter. “W-we w-were to go Aldford…t-to s-start a new life! B-but we were attacked…and taken!”

“Taken?” I repeated, my heart skipping a beat as my earlier suspicions confirmed themselves, leaving me staring at the woman numbly.

She’s one of the settlers the Dread Crew kidnapped, I thought, the realization causing me to freeze with renewed shock. One of the settlers Carver’s people gave to the orcs.

“Yes! Taken far away!” the woman exclaimed, speech starting to grow faster the more than she spoke. “P-please! Y-you…m-must help! They are…killing all of us and many of the others they have enslaved! They beat us and w-work us to death…t-then when we are broken and useless, they t-turn us into these m-monsters…”

“They?” I repeated, struggling to keep up with the woman and how fast she was speaking. “Who are they?”

“They are orcs!” the woman practically shouted in response to my question, baring her teeth viciously towards me in anger before going completely slack. “T-they…they are…”

“She’s bleeding again!” Theia suddenly shouted, the lizardwoman leaning forward into the cocoon and placing her hands on the woman’s chest where the wound was. “Shit! Whatever this root is, it’s starting to die! She’s going to bleed out no matter what we do!”

“Breathe!” I found myself almost shouting as the woman began to struggle to take in a breath deep enough to satisfy her. “Just breathe! You need to tell me what you saw! Where are the orcs? Where did they take the other settlers with you? Was it far from here?”

“They…took all of us…” she gasped in response, her eyes not moving from mine despite the twin streams of blood starting to pour from both her nose and mouth. “Took us…north. Away from…this place…through the forest and to an orc city. Khudazal. It…is an…evil place.”

“There’s an orc city?” I repeated in an eager tone, risking a glance over towards Theia as she fervently continued to work on the woman’s chest, the grim expression written across on her face telling me everything that I needed to know. “Do you know where it was to the north? Or how far you traveled? We can try to find the others if you tell us.”

“I-I don’t know…maybe two—” she started to answer but was forced to stop in order to cough up another stream of blood, her voice weakening greatly afterward. “Maybe…two days through the forest…I can’t…remember. But…but that is not…important. You need…you need to know…”

“What do I need to know?” I asked, leaning in even closer to the woman in an attempt to hear her better, the color in her body starting to fade away rapidly.

“That…they ready for war again,” the woman said in a faint whisper, her hand beginning to tremble as she spoke. “They ready…to march on…Aldford and Eberia. Please…you must…stop them before—”

With a gut-wrenching heaving sound cutting her words short, the nameless woman vomited blood for a second time, the stream strong enough to splash across our two hands and send up a spray that misted across my face. Flinching backward with a surprised shout, I saw her body then begin to seize and shake violently as even more blood began to pour from both her mouth and the now withered root protruding from her chest.

“No, no, no!” Theia shouted desperately as she tried to stem the flow of blood with her hands, but to no avail, the woman’s thrashing body coming to a sudden and final stop. “Damn it!”

“We never had a chance, Theia,” I whispered heavily, still holding the unknown woman’s hand as I looked down into her lifeless eyes, her desperate gaze never having shifted away from mine as she died. “There was nothing we could have done.”

“No,” the lizardwoman agreed, her voice sounding hollow as she spoke. “That we didn’t.”

Letting out a sigh, I shook my head as I moved to place the woman’s hand down gently on her chest and then moved to close her eyes, my heart feeling exceptionally heavy in my chest. A part of me knew that the woman had only been an NPC, destined to play whatever role that the game had cast for her. But for now that realization did little to soothe my mind after witnessing such a personal level of suffering firsthand.

“What about the others?” I asked as I pushed myself back up onto my feet, rubbing my blood-soaked hand clean on my armor. “There must have been other cocoons in the other creatures. Did any of them survive too?”

“No…I don’t think so,” I heard Theia whisper from beside me as I turned to look around the clearing, seeing the groups of people gathered around the two other cocoons, all of their expressions downcast.

“Damn,” I replied with a sigh, my eyes continuing to scan over the crowd and eventually landing on Freya, who was sitting on the ground a short distance away from her group’s torn open cocoon with a hand over her face. Taking in the sight in a heartbeat, I felt myself begin to move towards her without a second’s hesitation. “Oh, oh no.”

Crossing the distance between us quickly, my gaze shifted off the blonde-haired woman and onto the spear, seeing that it was protruding from the chest of a person belonging to a bearlike race that I couldn’t identify.

“I killed him,” Freya stated as I arrived beside her, looking up at me with teary eyes. “I didn’t know…I was just trying to stop the thing…I-I…”

“This isn’t your fault, Sonia,” I said gently as I could, using her real name as I knelt down by her side and placed an arm around her. “There was no way you could have known.”

“I know,” she replied softly, shaking her head. “At least…I think I do, but right now it just…sucks.”

“It does,” I agreed. “But we weren’t going to get a happy ending here no matter what we did. I have no idea what happened to these people, but they were beyond our help. We just gave them peace.”

“Yeah…” Freya said softly. “What the hell did we walk into here, Lyr? We were supposed to find the Dread Crew here. Not whatever these…evil, corrupted things were.”

“I don’t know, Freya,” I replied, giving her a reassuring squeeze as I spoke. “But we’ll find out. I promise you that.”

Reacting as if in response to my words, I suddenly heard a familiar chime echo in my ears followed by a wave of text flashing across my vision.

War Quest Update! The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew!

After defeating a trio of strange rotting creatures in the remains of a Dread Crew camp, you have discovered that each of them contained a captive imprisoned deep within a cocoon-like shell. Calling out for help, you discover that one of them, a woman, is still alive, just barely clinging to life. Speaking urgently, she reveals that she belongs to the group of missing settlers that were abducted by the Dread Crew and taken to a distant orc city somewhere far to the north named Khudazal.

From there, she painted a horrific outline of her treatment at the hands of the orcs before desperately requesting for you to save the other settlers before they are transformed into more of the monstrosities that you’d just fought. Unfortunately, before the woman could fully finish her warnings, her wounds caught up with her, and she soon after succumbed to her injuries, leaving a final bone-chilling statement behind.

The orcs are preparing to join the war.

New War Objectives:

Find Khudazal: 0/1

Find Aldford’s Lost Settlers: 0/1

Stop the Orc Invaders: 0/1

And there you have it, I thought as I finished reading over the quest update, which all but confirmed what the woman had just told us. Enter the orcs, stage left.

Letting out a sigh at the thought, I dismissed the text from my vision and glanced over towards Freya once more, seeing her eyes moving as she too read over the update.

“Are you going to be okay?” I asked after giving her a few more seconds to catch up and read. “This news about the orcs changes a lot, and the sooner we can get the word out and figure out what happened here, the better.”

“I agree,” Freya answered, matching my sigh with one of her own while also shaking her head to clear her thoughts. “And I’ll manage. Being busy is probably the best thing for me right now.”

“Okay,” I said, moving to offer the woman my unstained hand and help her up. “Let me know if that changes."

Taking my hand, we rose to our feet and rejoined the others, where we all collectively set about coming to terms with both the battle that we’d just fought and the stunning revelation that had followed afterward. Starting first with the most obvious post-battle activity, we did a headcount of our surviving ranks, finding out that we’d lost just shy of half our number with the scouts suffering the greatest toll. Yet their sacrifice had served its purpose in allowing the rest of the raid to remain relatively unscathed, none of us wanting to think of what might have happened if the corrupted guardians had risen directly in our midst.

Once our headcount was completed, we promptly set about the next two most urgent tasks, simultaneously, the first being to secure our immediate surroundings and the second being to report in our offline chat with what we’d discovered. In the case of the first task, and our highly tuned paranoia being what it was, none of us were willing to discount the chance of a secondary ambush lying in wait somewhere beyond the Dread Crew camp. As such, we all promptly took precautions to explore the abandoned base to ensure that there was nothing else lying in wait. There was little doubt among us that the trio of guardians had been left behind as a trap, though what remained to still be discovered was if it was a trap intended to soften us before a second attack arrived, or if it was a trap designed to slow us down and force us to spend time that we didn’t have looking for answers that weren’t there.

As the bulk of us worried about those possibilities, two of our number logged out back into reality to address our second task, ensuring that everyone knew what had happened to us. Given the short and brief warning that we’d had about the orcs supposed preparations to march on Aldford, our primary goal was to alert Cassius and his guild as soon as possible. As part of our earlier plan, they were heading directly northwards in the direction that the orcs were supposedly located, and the last thing that we needed was to have all of them rush headlong into another ambush unaware. Then, once all of that was done, we turned our attention towards the camp itself, inspecting both it and the remains of those that had been trapped within the strange orcish constructs as we soon learned they were.

And what we found chilled us to our very bones.

“It fed off them,” Halcyon announced, his eyes glancing between Caius, Zethus, Theia, and myself as he spoke, the five of us having busied ourselves in determining just what exactly the guardians were. “Or more specifically, the spirit that piloted this…thing, fed off their life energy, using them as if they were some sort of living battery.”

“That’s…horrific,” I whispered, shaking my head before looking down towards the glowing red ball of energy I held in my hand. Recovered from the remains of the guardians, it was one of nine [Essences of Anger] that dropped on their death, the strange orblike items appearing identical to the others we’d found in the Nafarrian ruins and Twilight Grove. “And what was supposed to happen when they were all used up?”

“From the looks of it, they simply died and the construct then…falls apart,” Theia said in a sad voice. “I looked over each of those in the cocoons and two of the captives died by wounds…uh, suffered during the battle. It caused the spirit animating the construct to starve and fade away.”

“I see,” I said in a soft voice as I shifted my attention to look at the withered ursine man in the cocoon, a thought occurring to me. “What happened to the other guardian? The one I killed. The woman was still alive for a time afterward.”

“It was the destruction of the spirit’s anchor that caused the construct to unbind itself,” Zethus explained, holding up a cracked elk skull in his hands as he spoke. “Each of the spirits was bound to the skulls that we saw on the guardians, which are essentially responsible for maintaining the spell that’s animating them. When the skull of that one construct was destroyed, it broke the spell’s binding and released the spirit, causing everything to then unravel.”

“So our options when it comes to killing these things is to either kill the person trapped inside or to try and shatter the skull anchoring the spirit,” I said as my eyes shifted over to stare at the damaged piece of bone, seeing that despite it being rather badly scarred and burned, it was still surprisingly intact. There was little doubt that the magic that had been bound to it had also managed to drastically increase its durability. “It seems that no matter what we do, the poor soul trapped inside dies.”

“So it does,” Theia agreed. “Which is why we must ensure that we put a stop to the orcs from making more of these abominations and rescue all those that they have captured.”

“Yeah…” I replied with another sigh, my voice trailing off as I considered the discovery of the black-scaled arakissi that had been the final victim of our battle with the corrupted guardians.

It seemed that the orcs had managed to enslave our settlers in addition to the other pair who belonged to two foreign races in the greater region around us. One of them, the arakissi, we fortunately already knew of, thanks to Theia and the other Thunder Lizards who had decided to leave the Fens of Swyn in early days of Ascend Online’s release. But in the case of the other, the one belonging to the ursine man, it was new to us, none of us ever having seen or heard of his race of people before.

I’ll have to double-check the primer to be sure, but I definitely can’t remember seeing a bear race being available anywhere close to Eberia, or even in the areas beyond it for that matter, I thought as I considered where the man or his people might have come from. Regardless, it likely means that there’s another group of people somewhere out here that are also fighting the orcs. Assuming, of course, the orcs haven’t already killed or captured all of them.

“We’ll stop them,” I promised, pending my train of thought for later as I turned my attention back to the others. “But right now, I think that the best thing we can do for them is get these people back to Aldford and out of this forest. Not only do we owe each of them a proper burial, but the more that we can find out about what the orcs did to them, the better chance that we’ll have in helping any others down the line.”

“If we can help them,” Halcyon added in a somber tone that provoked a series of grim nods around our circle. “That corruption that you told us about sounds terrifying in its own right. I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do against that.”

“Me either,” I agreed, my eye shifting over towards a notification that had appeared shortly after the battle, outlining the effects of the corruption counter that I’d seen appear in my combat log. It seemed that by attempting to drain the mana of the corrupted guardians, I’d managed to briefly poison myself with some sort of affliction, which if it hadn’t been for my ætherwarping could have seriously affected me.

What did you stumble onto here, Carver? I asked myself, not for the first time, as I brought up the notification and skimmed over it once again, trying to tease out any sort of clue from the never before seen update.

Special Status Effect Discovered!

During your adventures, you have found your body and spirit afflicted by [Corruption], a vile and twisted magic that seeks to rob you of your strength and ability. The more that you are exposed to this malevolent energy, the greater the toll it will take upon you, to the point where it may even cause permanent physical or mental changes.

The effects of this can be categorized into four separate stages of severity represented by a Corruption Counter which scales from 0% to 100%.

Mild Corruption – 1% to 35% – During this stage of affliction, the corruption has only begun to take root in your body and spirit, afflicting you with occasional nausea and unsettled emotions but otherwise remaining too weak to cause you harm. Effect: None.

Moderate Corruption – 36% to 75% – During this stage of affliction, the corruption has now managed to gain a solid foothold in you, weakening you both physically and mentally. This stage is accompanied by a persistent sense of nausea and unease, along with a growing sense of weakness. Effect: All Player Stats are reduced by 15%.

Major Corruption – 76% to 99% – During this stage of affliction, the corruption has progressed to the point where it is in danger of fully consuming you, making it difficult for you to move or think. In addition to the intensification of the previous stages’ symptoms, haunting visions and whispers begin to plague your mind, greatly hindering your ability. Effect: Player Stats are reduced by 30%, and all skills are reduced by 3 levels.

Fully Corrupted – 100% – At this final stage of affliction, you are considered fully corrupted and immediately fall unconscious. While unconscious, the corruption causes both your body and spirit to then undergo random changes. Effect: On reaching 100% corruption, you are rendered unconscious for a period of 8 hours after which you permanently gain a randomly generated [Corrupted] trait.

Recovering from Corruption – If afflicted by corruption, your Corruption Counter will decrease by 10% every 24 hours until it returns to 0%. Beyond natural regeneration, you may reduce your total corruption through the use of specific healing spells designed to cure the affliction or by special Traits that affect it. However, should you reach the Fully Corrupted stage of affliction, your natural regeneration will become muted, and you will only be able to be restored through the use of magic or a relevant Trait.

“But at any rate, that’s a problem for later,” I said as I finished skimming over the notification and dismissed it from my vision once more, seeing everyone in our circle give me a solemn nod. But before we could resume our conversation and begin the process of figuring out how exactly we were going to carry the cocoons back to Aldford, Constantine suddenly called my name, causing us all to turn in his direction.

“Hey, Lyr!” he announced loudly, the rogue walking towards us with a flat, rectangular board of wood in his hand. “Found something that you might be interested in seeing.”

“Oh?” I asked, my eyes dropping down towards the object the man was carrying. “What is it?”

“A message from the looks of it—one that I’m pretty sure is addressed directly to us,” Constantine said, his face grim as he stopped in front of us and held up the board, revealing that three words had been scrawled across it with something that looked like blood.

NEVER TRUST TRAITORS.

“Then they really did expect for us to come looking for this place,” I said as I read the sign, feeling a spark of anger start to burn in my stomach. “They expected someone to talk.”

“It looks like it, Lyr,” Constantine replied, his expression tightening even further. “But that’s only half the message.”

With his words hanging in the air, he turned the sign over to its other side, revealing three more words.

SEE YOU SOON.

Chapter 17

Friday, April 12th, 2047 – 6:51 a.m.

CTI Player Housing Complex

“We’ll just need to—” I started to say, only to find myself cut off by a ringing chime that signaled someone new joining our video channel, the screen splitting to reveal a new face. “Speak of the devil; there’s Lance now.”

“We found them,” Cassius’s familiar voice announced without any preamble as the connection stabilized and he appeared on the screen, his tired eyes scanning over each of our faces. “We found the orcs and the Dread Crew.”

“And?” Misha asked from right beside me in a hopeful tone as we looked back at the bald-headed man that vaguely resembled his avatar’s appearance, save for the addition of roughly a decade of extra wear.

“We’re in trouble,” he stated, shaking his head slowly and letting out a sigh. “There’s no doubt that they’re still working together, and there’s…a lot of orcs along with them. A lot, a lot. And as luck has it, they’re all gearing up to head down our way.”

“Shit,” I whispered, feeling my heart drop in my chest at the man’s news. We’d entertained a fleeting hope that the orcs had maybe decided to double-cross Carver and the others—a situation that would have greatly simplified our concerns. Unfortunately, it seemed we weren’t going to be that lucky. “Do you have a rough guess at numbers?”

“We don’t know for sure yet, but a few hundred at the very least, on top of several dozen more goblins and ogres. Plus then, of course, the Dread Crew on top of that,” Lance replied tiredly, a hand appearing on screen to mask a yawn. “They’re all mustering outside the forest in a large encampment right around where we expected to find the hunting camp Phillion told us about. Unfortunately, anything more than that is a mystery right now, because we didn’t have time to stay and look. They had teams of scouts patrolling the area, and we had to move out of range or get caught. Whoever’s running the show there is definitely not stupid, and they’re making sure to keep an eye on the area.”

“Fantastic,” I said, my gaze moving to see the looks of resignation on both Gavin’s and Misha’s faces.

It had been a long night since the events at the Dread Crew camp and our discovery of the horrors that it had contained, all of us having been scrambling practically nonstop since. After finishing our search through the remains of the base, and finding precious little information to work with, we left the place, taking the remains of the captives with us. From there, once we’d reached the plains, we partially split our forces, with a portion of the guild heading farther north to Shadow’s Fall and the rest returning to Aldford.

Joining the latter of the two groups, I didn’t arrive at the town until the early hours of the morning, barely managing to stave off exhaustion long enough to explain what had happened to Aldwin, Veronia, and Stanton. Once that was done, it was all I could do afterward to find a place to log off and stagger into my bed back in reality, hoping that by the time I woke up there would be better news to greet me.

Unfortunately, so far it seemed that the day had other plans in store for us.

“So what does that mean for us?” I went on to ask, giving voice to the thought that had haunted me for most of the night. “Are we screwed?”

“I…don’t know,” Lance answered with a sigh, shaking his head tiredly from side to side. “I hope to get a bit more information as the day goes on today and we get some light so that we can better see their camp. All that I can confirm for sure, though, is that our days of fighting pitched battles on the plains are done. There are simply way too many orcs…and too many of those constructs that you warned me about to make that an option. We would get overwhelmed instantly.”

“So you saw more of those…things then?” Gavin asked from his screen, the dark-haired man speaking up for the first time since Lance had joined the call.

“We did,” he confirmed. “Though we saw more than the one kind that you warned us about. There was another kind that almost all of the scout groups had with them called a ‘corrupted dervish’. They look like smaller and sleeker versions of the guardians and are damned fast. On one occasion, I saw one of them go after a roaming creature that crossed their path, and the thing crossed thirty feet in the blink of an eye and tore it to shreds before I knew what was happening. Hell, it moved even faster than any of the orcs or adventurers accompanying it could even nock an arrow, let alone move to help it.”

“Great. That sounds like it’ll be especially fun to deal with,” Misha replied with a sigh, the conversation lapsing for several seconds before Lance continued to speak.

“I wish I could give you guys a better idea of what we’re dealing with, numbers and all,” he said, “but we’re going to need to take it slow if we want to stay hidden from the orcs. With any luck, by the time the afternoon comes, I’ll be able to give you a better answer, but until then, I can only give you my first impressions.”

“We’ll gladly take anything you can tell us,” Misha said in a soft voice that I knew concealed her nervousness. “Even a rough outline of what to expect is more than we know right now. Plus, hopefully, it’ll keep us from twisting in the wind in the meantime.”

“That’s fair enough,” the Hallowguarde guildmaster replied, offering us a brief nod before going on to give us a more detailed explanation of what he and his guild had discovered the previous night.

Starting first with his departure from Shadow’s Fall, Lance described the journey to find the second Dread Crew camp as uneventful at first, his guild easily making their way northward thanks to Spirit of the Wild speeding their progress. However, as they ranged farther away from the ruined settlement, the flat terrain that was the plains began to shift, gradually transitioning into rolling hills that forced them to slow their progress. Filled with a host of higher-leveled creatures similar to the Hartwyld, the Iron Foothills was a virtually untouched region filled with a host of vicious and deadly creatures, all of whom happened to have a taste for adventurers.

Forced to blaze a path through the monsters, the guild’s progress slowed drastically as they steadily ground their way forward, eventually getting the warning of our experiences at the other Dread Crew camp partway through their journey. Once they did, however, their speed slowed even further as they began to move with extreme caution, taking pains to ensure that they weren’t walking into an ambush of their own. With the slower pace, it wasn’t until nearly midnight when they’d stumbled onto the orcs and the Dread Crew, the sight of dozens of open fires, tents, and moving shapes appearing in the distance.

“…I can’t give you a good accounting of their levels yet, but we saw all kinds in our brief window of scouting,” Lance said as he continued on with his report. “The lowest were right down at level ten, which belonged to a group of goblins that were working straight into the night, and the highest was a level twenty-seven corrupted guardian right at the camp’s entrance. The other orcs and ogres were all a mix in between those two ranges as far as I could tell, with the bulk of them being in the low to mid-twenties.”

“That’s…actually better than I let myself hope,” I replied as I listened to the man’s explanation. “If we’re going to be outnumbered, at least we can be outnumbered with a slight level advantage. That at least gives us a fighting chance.”

“It does,” the man agreed. “Though that all depends on how we want to engage them and what our plan is going forward. If you’d like, we can try to start skirmishing with them and taking out a few of their patrols. But I’m not going to lie to you, I don’t think we’d last long doing that. Not with just us up here. Levels will only go so far with us being outnumbered ten to one, if not more.”

“That’s true too,” I said with a sigh, leaning back in my chair and turning to look towards Misha. “What do you think about this, Mish? You’re the one already heading north to join up with Lance and the others.”

“I think we’re in desperate need of information before we do anything,” the woman said, shaking her head at the question. “But unless something really drastically changes, I’m inclined to think that an attrition game is really our best hope. Given the space that we have to work with and how far we are from any defensive fixture, I just don’t see any other options available to us. Maybe if we still had Shadow’s Fall to fall back on we could make a stand there, but since we don’t…”

“Our next best hope is Valor’s Point,” I said, silently wondering if this was the reason why the Dread Crew had razed both the Hallowguarde settlement and their forest camp, making sure that we couldn’t use either as a base to resist the coming orc invasion. “Assuming we can fortify it enough to stand up to them.”

“Pretty much,” Misha said, offering both me and the two men on the screen a resigned shrug. “There might be a lot for us to deal with, but in the end, they’re still NPCs. If they die, that’s it for them. They don’t get a second chance like we do. If we can bleed them enough, both on their march, and when they reach us, we might be able to break them.”

“Assuming, of course, that they aren’t willing to absorb those kinds of losses in order to achieve their goals,” Gavin pointed out from his half of the screen. “We have no idea what the orcs want in the first place, nor why they’ve allied with Carver and his group. For all we know, this could be a precursor to another world event that kicks off a second invasion of Eberia.”

“Which would suck for us quite a bit, seeing as we’re directly in their path if that’s their plan,” I stated as a grim expression appeared across each of our faces.

“If that’s the case, should we be looking to get help a bit more urgently?” Lance asked. “What’s the status on those guilds you’re inviting? Can you reach out to them sooner at all? This orc problem that we’re facing could be moot if we had a few hundred more adventurers on hand to call.”

“That’s actually my plan as soon as we’re done here,” I answered, having already anticipated the question. “Right now, we have a meeting scheduled for Tuesday, which is…ages away with how fast things have been moving. I need to see what I can do to move that up a bit, or if not reach out to them in-game directly—though I’m worried doing that might be coming on a bit too strong and desperate.”

“Better come off that way than miss the opportunity entirely,” Misha said with a shrug. “Because if we can’t get some help coming our way from them, our next best option is to put out a general call for any and all adventurers in Eberia and Coldscar, which is likely going to cause as many problems as it solves.”

“That it would,” I agreed, knowing full well what kind of adventurers and guilds there were in the aforementioned regions due to my watching of various feeds. As easily as we could find people to help us, we could also find others looking to take advantage of our situation, causing distractions or worst case, disasters that we couldn’t afford to have. “I’ll see what I can do at any rate. Hopefully, we can get something rolling and get us some help.”

“Hopefully,” Lance said, a hand coming up once more to stifle a second yawn even fiercer than the first. “And speaking of rolling, I’m afraid I’m going to have to drop from the chat and find my bed. I’ve been up since yesterday, and I have about three hours to get as much sleep as I can before I need to be back online to switch out with the others.”

“That’s fine, Lance,” I said to the man, more than understanding his exhaustion. Between all of us, we were each running on less than five hours of sleep in the last twenty-four, and I doubted that it was going to get better anytime soon. “Thanks for the update in the meantime. We’ll make sure to pass it on to everyone who needs to know.”

“Works for me,” he replied, offering us one final nod of farewell before vanishing from the screen. “I’ll catch you guys later. Good luck in the meantime.”

With that, Lance then signed off from our virtual meeting, the split-screen stretching itself back out so that only Gavin’s face was displayed on it.

“Well, I guess we at least know what we’re dealing with now,” Misha announced, her eyes moving between me and the screen. “If only a little bit.”

“That we do,” Gavin agreed, his face tightening as he continued to speak. “Which I guess now brings me back to my earlier point. I know we made plans to head back to Eberia right before all of this was dropped into our laps, but given everything that’s happened…is that really the best idea right now? You guys need all the hands that you can get, and we’re more than happy to stay around a bit longer.”

“I really appreciate that, man,” I replied in a sincere tone, despite slowly shaking my head. “And believe me, we’d love to have you three around, but I have a feeling that this is only going to snowball. A ‘bit longer’ could end up being weeks, or even months depending on how things go. That’s assuming you could even get back to Eberia by then too. As much as we’re having our own problems, so is the city.”

“I’m sure we could find a way,” Gavin countered, though it was clear that his heart wasn’t completely in it.

“You guys probably would,” Misha agreed, taking over for me. “But regardless if things go good or bad here, we still need eyes on both Coldscar and Eberia. Both so that you guys can try and steer it in the right direction…and also to advocate for us if we end up needing help—either from adventurers or from Veronia’s father, Marshal Tarius. If push came to shove, I doubt he’d leave his daughter out in the cold with orcs on the loose.”

“Are you guys sure?” he asked one last time, more out of formality than anything else.

“We are,” I replied firmly, glancing over towards Misha who nodded in agreement. “Not only is this the best way for you three to help us, but you also have people counting on you back in Eberia. Not to mention, too, we’ll definitely be keeping in touch as best as we can offline to coordinate our efforts across the board.”

“Okay, then,” Gavin said with a resigned sigh as he finally gave in to our arguments. “We’ll start heading back today and make sure to do everything we can to support you all from Eberia. Maybe having orcs appear back on the horizon again will get everyone to put aside their differences and work together.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Misha replied dryly, her tone signaling that she doubted anything of the sort. “Though if they decide to keep being pains in the asses, feel free to educate them on the benefits of cooperation as forcefully as needed.”

“Oh, I definitely plan to,” Gavin said in an eager tone. “We don’t have time for kid gloves anymore.”

“That we don’t,” I agreed, my eyes taking that cue to drop down and check the time in the corner of the monitor, seeing that the morning was steadily wearing on. “And more importantly, we don’t have the time right now. We need to get back into the game and get things rolling, or more specifically, I need to find Léandre and figure out what we’re going to do to fortify Valor’s Point.”

“And hopefully find us a way past the construct’s damage reduction too?” Misha asked in a hopeful tone. “I know I’m miles away at the moment, so that doesn’t help me, but we’re going to need something on that front if we’re going to stand up to those things in battle. We’re not going to be able to rely solely on you and the mages to take them all down. Then there’s that bit with the corruption too. We still don’t know what we’re dealing with there.”

“It’s all on the list,” I said, mentally tallying all my various tasks in my head. “Léandre and I are going to try and churn out what we can with the æthertouched iron that we have, and I plan to have Jenkins cut down as many branches as he can from the oak tree. Hopefully, I can repeat what I did with Splinter and carve them into weapons for people to use. Past that, I’m leaning on Donovan and Stanton having an answer regarding the corruption, though honestly, I’m not too hopeful about it. We don’t know enough about what it is to even start coming up with an explanation, let alone a solution to it.”

“At this point, anything will help,” Misha stated as she leaned forward in her seat, getting ready to stand up. “Because with what Lance has just told us, I doubt that we’ve seen even the tip of what Carver and the orcs have in store for us.”

“I don’t doubt it either,” I agreed, moving to mirror Misha as I gave one last look to both her and Gavin. “Okay, I think we’re winding down here, is there anything else to cover before we go our separate ways?”

“I don’t think so here, Marc,” Gavin replied with a shake of his head. “I have a couple things to sort out here, then I’ll be logging back on to get ready for the trip back to Eberia.”

“Same here,” Misha replied. “I need to see who’s made it to Shadow’s Fall by now and then get moving to catch up with Lance and his guild. The sooner we can meet up with them, the sooner we can figure out what we’re dealing with.”

“Then it sounds like we all have our jobs to do,” I said as our meeting came to an end. “Let’s get back to work.”

Chapter 18

The Crafting Hall

Chaos greeted me as I logged back into the world of Ascend Online, the endless darkness that surrounded me during the login sequence resolving itself into bright colors and sound. Blinking at the disorientation, I had enough sense to step over to the side of the road before coming to a stop, just narrowly missing being hit by a passing wagon. Wincing at the sight, I shook my head and rubbed my face to clear what few cobwebs still floated in my vision, my new reality finally snapping into focus when I reopened my eyes.

Looks like everyone’s gotten a good start so far today, I thought as everywhere around me I saw countless rushing bodies going into and out of the crafting hall, many of them hauling various supplies needed inside or already bringing finished products out to be loaded on a waiting wagon. In the center of the laneway was a belabored adventurer shouting out to everyone nearby as she tried to make sense of and organize the sheer quantity of moving bodies and vehicles.

“Lyrian!” a familiar voice suddenly called out, just close enough to be heard through the cacophony of shouting and movement that filled the air. “Good, you’re finally here! Let’s get you to Léandre so he can get you working!”

Stepping into view mid-speech, I saw a coal-black dwarf appear out from behind a pair of players carrying a crate moving past me, already beckoning for us to follow him.

“Thorne! You’re one of the ones that stayed back?” I asked, having left it for Freya and Drace to solicit a handful of volunteers to remain behind to help with the crafting.

“Aye, I did!” the dwarf replied as we pushed through the bodies around us and entered into the crafting hall, the place already hot and humid despite the early morning. “Figured you’d want to have some familiar hands around to make sure things run smoothly. And truth be told, I think I’m starting to get a bit old to be chasing orcs through the hills.”

“Psh, you’re hardly old! You just want a comfortable bed to sleep in, don’t you?” I said to Thorne, seeing a broad smile break out across his face.

“Hrm, saw straight through me right away, didn’t you?” he answered with a chuckle before continuing to speak. “Anyway, you’ve not got just me though to help and run herd on things, two of the lizards, Helix and Cadmus, stayed back to help as well as Ameron and Edanea. Between us five, we have enough to keep everyone moving in the same direction.”

“Great!” I replied, feeling a wave of gratitude towards the guildmembers in question surge through me. It likely hadn’t been an easy decision for any of them to stay behind and do something as simple as craft, especially when the rest of the guild was going to fight the orcs and try to keep them at bay. But if we were to have any chance of winning, it was going to happen with a coordinated effort across all fronts.

Cutting through the main hall and into the foundry, it didn’t take us long to find Léandre, who was steadily hammering away at a large red-hot bar of metal with a sledgehammer.

“Rah!” the Tul’Shar exclaimed as he brought the hammer heavily down on the bar, causing it to ring out loudly. Exhaling sharply, the craftsman inspected the metal with a single glance, then motioned towards a nearby assistant. “Good, it is taking shape. Back into the forge for a sixty count.”

Letting out a grunt of acknowledgment, the man obeyed, hefting the heavy bar effortlessly in a pair of tongs and sliding it into the mouth of a nearby forge. As he did so, it allowed for Léandre to set his hammer down and turn his attention towards us, having clearly noticed our arrival.

“Good morning, Lyrian,” he greeted, panting from his exertions. “Welcome to our battlefield.”

“It does seem like that today, doesn’t it?” I replied, taking the opportunity to glance around the foundry and seeing that each of the ten other forges set up were all occupied by no less than two adventurers each. “Anyway, I’m sorry I’m late. But I’m here now to help wherever you need me.”

“It is no worry, we are yet still finding our stride this morning too,” Léandre replied, inclining his head towards me before indicating the forge at the center of the foundry. “As for a task, I was thinking to leave you and Thorne in charge of both the ætherforge and the foundry itself today. I have too many other needs pressing elsewhere in the crafting hall, and I hope to find the time to draft out a design for the idea that we spoke about last night.”

“That works for us,” I replied, my attention shifting over towards the magical forge, seeing that while it was stoked with a low-burning flame, it was currently unused by anyone. “Hopefully, I’ll be able to get the thing to cooperate with me today.”

“Hopefully,” Léandre agreed in a wistful tone. “Though truthfully, I will settle for there being no catastrophic magical event to add to our burdens. You will be careful in your work, yes?”

“As much as I can be,” I replied, already preparing myself for the dangers of working with the ætherforge.

In our experiences so far, working the æthertouched iron was an exercise in both frustration and patience. For reasons that we still hadn’t figured out, there was a risk when trying to shape the metal that it would suddenly react with a random magical effect, potentially causing harm, or if not, chaos to everyone and everything around it. So far, surprise fires, flash freezes, random teleportations, living rainbows, and a small indoor thunderstorm were only a handful of the things that had spontaneously occurred while working with the metal, with newer and even stranger events occurring each and every time we tried to experiment with the metal.

“Then that is all that I ask,” Léandre stated, the man moving as the iron bar that I’d seen earlier returned, now red hot from its stay in the nearby forge. “In the meantime, I shall finish this last piece here and leave you to your work. Should you need anything during the day, send a runner to find me, else I will see you later on tonight in my workshop.”

“That works for me,” I replied, seeing the man give us a brief farewell wave before shouldering his hammer and turning back to his work, the loud sound of metal on metal ringing out a second later. Taking our cue from there, Thorne and I left the old architect to his work and headed directly towards the ætherforge.

“So, I don’t suppose you have any ideas of how we’re to tackle forging this metal?” Thorne asked as we walked. “I’ve heard rumors about your earlier…challenges, and I’m not going to lie, they make my hair stand on end. Is it really true that Jenkins ended up getting transfigured into a lizard after trying to shape an ingot?”

“Huh?” I grunted, looking over towards the dwarf in disbelief. “No! That didn’t happen at all!”

“Oh, phew, that’s a relief,” the man replied, shaking his head slowly from side to side. “It’s just hard to—”

“It was a chicken he got transfigured into,” I said, interrupting the dwarf and seeing his expression instantly freeze. “But it only lasted for like five seconds.”

“W-wait, what?” Thorne asked as he turned to look at me incredulously. “You mean that really happened?!”

“Just once,” I replied, giving the dwarf a shrug as if the question didn’t matter. “And he was fine afterward. Besides, it’s not those events that we need to worry about, it’s the random teleportation ones. Did I tell you about the time I got ported to the foundry’s roof? Or rather three feet above it?”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you didn’t,” he answered hesitantly as we reached the ætherforge. “But, uh, maybe before you get into that story, we can come up with a plan how we’re going to tackle the forging today? Preferably in a way without any unexpected teleportations, transfigurations, transmutations, or other magical events starting with the letter T that I can’t remember right now affecting me?”

“We’ll be fine,” I assured the man with a chuckle, enjoying his discomfort perhaps a little bit too much. “While we’re still learning as we go, we’ve managed to work the worst of the kinks out now. The trick is to take things slow and steady.”

“If you say so,” Thorne replied in a dubious tone.

“I do,” I stated, motioning for him to pick up one of the bronze cylinders that we used to store and move æther in. “Now, here is what I was thinking for the day…”

Launching into a long explanation from there, I began the process of bringing Thorne up to speed on all the experimenting that we’d managed to do so far with regards to the æthertouched iron. Since he was already familiar with our difficulties, it thankfully didn’t take me long to catch the man up on the basics of the forging process, and before long, I was outlining what my crafting plans for the day were. Based on our trial and error so far, we’d learned that the risk for a magical event tended to increase drastically with the size of the metal being shaped. It seemed that smaller pieces, for whatever reason, tended not to react unexpectedly when being worked, whereas larger pieces, say those the size of a sword blade or axe head, almost always did. But given our need to find a way through the corrupted constructs’ damage reduction if we were to put up a solid fight, we had to figure out a workaround and fast.

Fortunately, I had an idea of just how to do that.

Since we only needed the æthertouched iron on the parts of the weapon that would make contact with the corrupted constructs in order to bypass its resistances, I’d come up with a plan to try to craft them out of multiple pieces. Instead of forging an entire blade, axe head, or spear tip from the magical metal, my plan instead was to use it for the edges, using a collection of smaller pieces joined together to a wooden or iron base. As simple as the idea was, however, it was also a rather ugly solution. Forging dozens of finger-sized shards of metal and then somehow attaching them to a weapon’s base was going to be a tedious and laborious process, taking much longer than it would otherwise.

But since we didn’t have a better solution on hand, and we really needed the weapons available as soon as possible, we pressed on to the best of our ability.

Working steadily in the hours that followed, Thorne and I busied ourselves with the task of churning out a starting batch of æthertouched iron pieces to first prototype my idea, the dwarf proving to be a quick study. So much so that between us, we mercifully managed to limit our total magical incidents to just one each, with both instances being more amusing than dangerous. But in addition to the work itself, the crafting challenge that we’d set for ourselves also proved to be a steady source of experience for us with our skill in blacksmithing rising steadily until we both hit level twenty-three. Eventually, by the time that lunch hit, we found ourselves with enough sharpened æthertouched blade edges, spear tips, and sword fragments to move onto the second part of the process: making the rest of the weapon they would attach to.

Splitting up at that point, we then commandeered a pair of the mundane forges in the foundry along with a handful of workers each, and we set about another round of crafting. Aided by the capable core of helpers, the process from there on out sped up drastically, allowing us to forge a handful of sword, axe, and spear cores to work with.

“I think that these should do fairly well,” Thorne said in an optimistic voice as we assembled our first prototype weapons, the dwarf fixing an edge to an axe while I did the same to a sword.

“I’m thinking so too,” I agreed as I carefully inserted a razor-sharp shard of æthertouched iron into what would be the spine of the sword and fixed it in place with a rivet. Modeled after a “tooth” sword that I’d seen on the internet, the blade was shaping up to be a vicious-looking thing, its serrated edges looking ready to bite deep into flesh. “I’ll admit I wasn’t exactly sure how this would turn out when we first started it, but it’s looking like we’ll be able to put weapons in the hands of a few people at least.”

“Aye, that we will,” the dwarf said as he finished assembling his axe, going on to inspect it with a critical eye before offering it out towards me to do the same. “Hm, looks like we’ve done a fine job with this one. How is your sword turning out?”

“Slowly…and also very sharp,” I replied as I inserted the last of the toothlike shards of metal into the sword’s spine and tried to line it up so I could fix it in place with a rivet, succeeding in slicing my finger in the process. “Gah! That’s the third time this thing has bitten me so far. Just give me a few more seconds…there!”

Snapping the final pin into place as I spoke, I shook my bloody finger more out of habit than actual pain, the wound having healed itself as quickly as it’d been made. Giving the item one quick glance to ensure that there weren’t any obvious defects, I held the finished sword at arm’s length so Thorne could also see it, both its and his axe’s description appearing in a floating tag beside them.

Arcane-Edged Iron Axe

Slot: Main Hand

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Fine (+10%)

Damage: 45-60 (Slashing)

Strength: +12 Agility: +12

Durability: 120/120

Weight: 2 kg

Special: Arcane-Edge – Edged with Æthertouched Iron, this weapon is capable of bypassing damage reduction and resistances of the Magical subtype.

Class: Any Martial

Level: 24

Arcane-Edge Iron Longsword

Slot: Main Hand

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Fine (+10%)

Damage: 40-60 (Slashing)

Strength: +12 Agility: +12

Durability: 120/120

Weight: 1.5 kg

Special: Arcane-Edge

Class: Any Martial

Level: 24

“Hm, arcane-edged,” I said as I read over the two descriptions, happy to see that the game had not only guessed but also supported our goal in why we’d gone through all the trouble of crafting the weapons the way we did. “Looks like we have an answer for those constructs now.”

“That we sure do!” Thorne agreed in an enthusiastic tone as he moved to set the axe down. “Now all that’s left is to make…how many more of them now?”

“At least five-dozen minimum. That’ll at least give the majority of our melee fighters a weapon.  But we’ll need to double that if we want to outfit everyone, and that’s not including arrowheads or other miscellaneous items that’ll be useful too,” I replied in a wistful tone, glancing over towards our collection of æthertouched axe blades, spear tips, and sword teeth. “And I think with what we have here…we might be able to manage another two swords and axes, along with three spears. After that, we’ll need to fire up the ætherforge again and start making more pieces to work with.”

“Which means that it’s time we brought others into the process,” the dwarf said, motioning to the various other players and NPCs working away in the forge. “I’ll see if I can’t bring some here up to speed on assembly and making the weapon cores, while you get a handful of others trained on the quirks of the big forge there. The more hands that we have working on this the better chance we’ll have in hitting that upper goal. Once things are rolling, I can join you all and help too.”

“That works for me,” I agreed, feeling a bit more confident about doing exactly that now that Thorne and I had managed to make a functioning set of prototypes to prove that our idea wasn’t a waste of time. With the time investment that making a single weapon took, we wanted to make absolutely sure that the result was worthwhile before throwing our full effort behind it.

Leaving the man to his work, I motioned for the workers that we’d conscripted earlier to follow me back to the Ætherforge and began the process of teaching them how to work with the metal anew. Fortunately, they all proved to be just as quick studies as Thorne had been, allowing us each to gradually churn out more pieces of the various æthertouched components that we needed. Falling into a steady rhythm from there as we found our stride, the day then turned into a near-endless blur of work, broken up by the rare magical event that inevitably flared up. It wasn’t until exhaustion started to cause mistakes that I finally decided to call an end to the day some hours later, feeling that it was best to send everyone off to rest and regroup instead of pushing any further.

“Okay, everyone!” I called out, pitching my voice over the loud sounds of industry that filled the Foundry. “We’re calling a formal end to the workday here before we burn out! If you want to finish up your current projects and clean up, you’re all free to go! We’ll be back at this first thing tomorrow morning, so be sure to get some rest!”

With that, the activity in the foundry began to gradually wind down as the day came to an end, everyone turning in their projects and cleaning up the workspaces. A process well ingrained into each of us thanks to Léandre, we all made sure to inspect our tools and forges for signs of wear or damage, ensuring that no potential issue had the time to bloom into a full-out problem. The last thing that we wanted to have was a downed forge when we needed it most, or even worse, suffer a catastrophic disaster that would put the entire Foundry out of business for a time.

“It looks like we made it about halfway to our minimum today, Lyrian,” Thorne announced as he took inventory of the day’s work, having noticed me out of the corner of his eye as I came into range. “We got a good crop of weapons to start with, and hopefully, with a full day’s work and more hands to help with, we’ll be able to make a sizable dent tomorrow. With luck, we’ll also be able to start in on arrows and the other things we might need too.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I replied to the man with a smile as I joined him in inspecting the weapons we’d made, happy that everything had gone well for our first day of work. “But that’s still a small part of the battle. Once everyone’s outfitted at least at a base level, I want to start churning out what new armor we can for everyone too. I have a feeling that wear and tear are going to be our enemy as much as anything else.”

“I don’t doubt it,” the man agreed, his head bobbing up and down as he spoke. “Though at least we’ll be able to churn those out faster and have the others in the hall here helping us out.”

“True enough,” I agreed as I looked out towards the now notably quieter foundry, seeing that while the majority had left, a handful still remained to work away on their own projects. “Speaking of the others though, I’m off to meet Léandre and see if we can’t get our other project going. Are you okay to finish up here?”

“Aye, it’s not a problem at all,” Thorne replied, turning to give me a curious look. “And I was going to ask earlier, but we got caught up in our work. What exactly is this secret project that you two are tinkering with?”

“Oh, nothing too crazy,” I replied in a coy tone, flashing a grin at the dwarf. “Just something that we think will even the odds a bit when the orcs come calling.”

Chapter 19

“Hey, Léandre!” I called out as I carefully pushed open the door that led into his workshop, hearing the sounds of industry ringing out from within. “I finally finished for—”

Managing to step roughly halfway into the room, I found myself suddenly coughing as a billowing cloud of sawdust rushed to greet me, causing me to raise a hand to shield my face. Stumbling forward through the entranceway, I quickly closed the door behind me, only then hearing the elder architect’s voice.

“Ah! There are you, Lyrian!” he called out by way of greeting, the rhythmic sound of sawing not stopping as he spoke. “You have good timing! Help me move this off the table.”

“Uh, sure!” I called back to the man as I wiped the dust from my eyes and tried to get my bearings around the workshop.

Set in the very back of the crafting hall, Léandre’s personal workshop had first started its life as a storage area. But as we started to fill out the various wings of the building and more people began to use it, the architect started to get a little annoyed with the time it took for him to get around and find a workspace. So as a result, he’d decided to take advantage of his status as the town’s chief crafter and foreman and carved out his own workshop where few were allowed to tread. Serving as an all-purpose workshop for anything a crafter could need, the place was a solitary retreat where Léandre planned out and drafted all of his projects, only revealing it to others when they were ready.

Having been in the place often, I was used to seeing the workshop filled with countless projects in various stages of completion, to the point where it was just as crowded as the arcane laboratory. Today, however, the workshop looked completely different than its usual state, with the center of the room completely clear of any obstructions, save for a thick bar of freshly cut wood lying on the floor.

“So it looks like you’ve had a productive day here,” I said as I finished my scan of the room, spotting Léandre standing right before a large sawhorse and made my way towards it. “I hardly recognized the place at first. Where did you even put everything?”

“Away in crates for some projects and the fire pit for others,” the craftsman replied with a shrug, the two of us lifting and moving the length of wood that he’d just finished cutting, placing it directly beside the other plank on the floor. “If we are to see our project done properly, we will need room to work with, and I was not feeling inclined for sentimentality today.”

“I can certainly see that,” I replied as the man beckoned me over towards a nearby drafting table filled with a series of sharply drawn sketches.

“So these are perhaps rougher than I would like, but I have managed to come up with a few initial concepts for us to experiment with,” Léandre said as we arrived at the table, his hand waving to indicate the designs that I recognized as several types of siege engine.

“They are great, Léandre!” I exclaimed as I scanned through the designs, my eye passing across the familiar sketches of trebuchets, catapults, and ballistae before going on to see several others that I’d only ever read of in books or seen in movies. “I wasn’t expecting you to come up with so many different designs so fast! I was expecting maybe one or two them at best!”

“Hrm, thank you, Lyrian, but the designs are the easy portion of our task,” the Tul’Shar said with a shrug. “It is the building portion that will be the greatest challenge.”

“It always is,” I agreed, my eyes flicking between each of the sketches as I spoke. “Though I suppose before we even get that far, we’re going to have to pick one of these to try out. Unless you already have one in mind?”

“Actually, yes, I do,” the man replied, giving me a stoic nod as he shifted to take a step towards a second nearby table. “After hearing about your incident last night with those abominations and how many more of them we stand to face on the battlefield in the days to come, I thought that we would do well to address their danger first.”

Moving as he spoke, the man reached for a large metal rod that had been placed on the table, picking it up with both hands and lifting it so I could see.

Hang on. On second thought, that’s not a rod at all, I realized, correcting my first impression as Léandre turned back in my direction, allowing me a better look at the item in his hands. It’s a bolt. A ballista bolt.

Stretching a little over a meter in length, the bolt was forged from what looked like a single piece of iron, its tip molded into a four-pointed arrowhead. Smooth along the length of its shaft, the weapon bore little other decoration or embellishments, save for a quartet of thick fins at its base, making it almost appear as a massively oversized arrow.

“As such, it is my thought that we would begin first with the ballistae,” he went onto explain as he offered the bolt to me. “While this is one I designed for measuring purposes, I believe that if we were to make other bolts tipped with æthertouched iron, we would have a potent method of stopping the creatures at a distance. Long before they would be close enough to trouble us.”

“That would definitely be a huge help,” I agreed as I turned over the bolt in my hand, trying to imagine it flying through the air towards a distant target. “I know it’s cruel to say to the victims trapped within the constructs, but the more of their number we can thin out, the better. If just the three of them were enough to take out nearly half our group yesterday, I can’t imagine what facing a dozen of them at once will be like.”

“Those were my thoughts exactly,” Léandre said as I offered the bolt back to him and he placed it back on the table. “Nor do we know either what siege weaponry the orcs may bring to the battle themselves. Should they do so, the range advantage and precision of such a device would prove to be invaluable in combating their efforts and keeping them preoccupied.”

“There is that as well,” I said, having considered the same thought, if not the remedy to resolve it. Given how little we knew about the orcs so far and their war preparations, I had a feeling that there would be a number of surprises to come in the near future.

Which was why I wanted to be sure that we had plenty of our own.

“Well, you don’t need to convince me any further,” I stated, motioning towards the wood that I just helped Léandre move. “Where do you want to start?”

“With the framing as you see here,” he said as the architect turned siege engineer stepped closer to me and pointed towards another sketch pinned to the drafting table. “We will need to ensure that its core will be able to stand up to both being moved and repeated use. I was hoping to achieve this by making sure…”

Continuing on with his explanation, the next few minutes passed quickly as Léandre brought me up to speed on the nature of his design and how we would tackle building a ballista. A far cry from the more normal and personal items that I had spent the day crafting today, building something like a siege engine was a much more complicated task. Not only was it something drastically larger than something like a sword, but it was also much more complex and intricate, requiring a variety of different tradeskills in order to see the project to completion. Fortunately, though, the game had a perfectly designed subsystem in place to help handle that process.

Where was that tutorial page again? I asked myself silently at one point as I helped Léandre gather the tools that we would need for our crafting while simultaneously paging through a menu. Thanks to my constant fighting on the plains over the last week, I’d only used the system a single time to help Léandre finish a project, and I wanted to refresh myself before we got started. I think I remember it being somewhere here. Ah! There is it!

Finally finding the entry in my log that I’d been searching for, I expanded the option into a floating box in the center of my vision.

Welcome to Complex Crafting!

As your skills continue to grow and you begin to take on more challenging works, you learn not only how to blend multiple crafting tradeskills together but also work with multiple crafters in completing a single project. Designed as a way to tackle larger-scale projects that may require a variety of specialties, Complex Crafting allows for several crafters, or one highly skilled crafter, to pool their collective tradeskill knowledge together in achieving a single goal.

Allowing for a great deal of flexibility and experimentation, there are two primary methods for beginning a Complex Project. The first and easiest method is to follow a Blueprint that has been prepared by a craftsman who has mastered the design. Should the team have the requisite abilities to successfully begin the project, then they will be able to follow the Blueprint’s instructions to completion, gaining relevant Tradeskill Experience according to their contribution.

The second method, one notably more difficult than the first, is called Prototyping, which does not require a Blueprint to begin. Instead, during this process, a team sets out to build the foundations of what will eventually become a Blueprint, using their own skills, sketches, notes, and other research to embark on a project. Should a team be successful in creating a final working Prototype of their idea, they will gain a substantial boost in Schema Experience pertaining to that project, allowing them to further refine their ideas until they are fully mastered. Depending on the complexity of the project, it can take multiple Prototypes to gain enough experience in order to master the design.

Once a Design has been mastered, a crafter can choose to either create a Blueprint of the project, which can be used by others to replicate their work, or they can choose to Research their design even further. During the research process, the crafter looks for ways to improve even further on their design, increasing various attributes of the finished product, such as Durability, Damage, Range, or any others that may be applicable. Once completed, the crafter can choose to include their discoveries in future Blueprints or omit them entirely.

Okay, this is coming back to me now, I thought with a mental nod as I stopped reading roughly halfway down the explanation, seeing it begin to explain how the research component of complex crafting functioned in more detail. While the information was extremely interesting to the crafter inside me, I unfortunately didn’t have the time to fully page through all of the details as Léandre started to spout instructions my way.

Moving to follow the man’s lead, we began the process of building a working ballista from scratch, both of our higher levels in the carpentry tradeskill allowing us to start off at a quick pace. Beginning by preparing the various cuts of wood that we would need for the siege engine’s frame, the first two hours were spent largely measuring and sawing before progressing to the other remaining pieces we would need. In my case, that had me leaning back on my blacksmithing talents to forge the various brackets, nails, and other associated pieces that would not only help keep the finished ballista together but allow it to be cocked back and fire. Once all that was done and we had everything that we needed, we began the process of actual assembly, slowly attaching all of the different pieces and components together.

Or at least trying to in some cases, the two of us encountering a handful of difficulties along the way that we hadn’t accounted for.

Regardless, however, we pressed on stubbornly, making sure to take notes as we went, time gradually ticking by until it was late into the night. Yet despite the lateness of the hour, neither of us wanted to stop until we finished the first prototype, slowly tackling the problems that we encountered one by one until none remained. Then, no sooner did we finish fixing the last problem and fit the last piece in did we both hear a soft chime of success in our ear, followed by an array of notifications flashing through our vision.

You have created a [Ballista]!

You have gained Schema Experience!

[Design: Ballista] – 35% Learned

You have gained Crafting Experience!

Your skill in Carpentry has increased to level 25!

Your skill in Blacksmithing has increased to level 25!

“And we are finished,” Léandre announced with relief as the echoes of a loud crack faded from the air, the man having just tested the siege weapon’s firing mechanism. “Or at least we are as much as we can be here in the workshop. I would like to perhaps find a place to test this contraption with a bolt or two before I am truly happy, but I suppose that could wait for tomorrow once the sun rises once more.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” I replied, giving the ballista an affectionate pat as I spoke, the time spent building it having given me an appreciation for the weapon. Getting a chance to fire a bolt from it, even as a test, was something that I absolutely wanted to do the first chance I got. “First thing in the morning then? I’m sure we can find a place to set up a range easily enough.”

“I will be there,” the Tul’Shar replied with a smile. “It is my hope that we can master this ballista design, and perhaps a second siege engine tomorrow, and then we can send what blueprints we have for the others to begin working on. We will need far more than a handful if we are to make an impression on the orcs.”

“Without a doubt,” I agreed, wondering how the others were doing for the day in their attempt to meet and begin harassing the orcs. With my focus having been entirely on crafting for the day, I’d found myself completely out of the loop on anything that the offline chats might have otherwise had. “Hopefully, we can get at least a dozen churned out, if not more depending on how much time we have.”

“I think that is more than manageable,” Léandre replied in an optimistic tone before going on to motion towards the ballista between us. “Now, before we call an end to our efforts for the night, help me push this out of the workshop and into the storage room next door. We can store it there for the night and then tidy the place.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said as I reached down to grab a handle on the side of the machine designed just for that purpose, the two of us then walking the ballista to its temporary destination. As we did so, I took the opportunity to call up its description, having been intently curious about its capabilities from the moment we’d started building it.

Ballista

Slot: Siege Weapon

Item Class: Common

Item Quality: Prototype (-10%)

Damage: Wooden Bolt: 875-1350 (Piercing)

Iron Bolt: 1125-2250 (Piercing)

Durability: 1000/1000

Weight: 320 kg

Whew! I thought to myself as I looked at the description, my eyes widening at the incredible damage ranges on the two ammo types that we’d designed it for. Even with this being a prototype and taking a hit to item quality, it still packs a hell of a punch! A solid hit from one of these bolts would practically one-shot a player if they were unlucky enough to be in the way. Hell, I doubt that even the guardians would be able to stand up to these if we managed to hit them in the skull or body.

Shaking my head at that thought, I made a firm mental note to always pay attention if we were ever up against an active siege weapon, promptly dismissing the ballista’s description from my vision as I continued to push it along. Guiding the machine out of the room, it took a couple minutes for Léandre and me to roll it into the nearby storage room, finding it to be mostly empty, save for a handful of crates containing supplies. Pushing it all the way to the back, we parked the machine and set its brake, making sure that it would stay in place. The last thing that either of us wanted was to have the siege engine decide to go on its own journey, uncaring of what it might hit in the process.

“Well, now that we have our first build out of the way, we can talk more about how to improve the next,” Léandre said as we turned away from the machine and began to walk out of the room. “I think that instead of using a rope as part of the firing mechanism, we could look at using a twisted iron cable—the durability would be much higher, and the whole thing would be more reliable in harsh weather as well.”

“It would be,” I replied as I considered the man’s point. “But making the cable isn’t exactly easy. It takes time to draw out all the strands and wind them together.”

“So?” the man shot back with a shrug as we left the storage room and started to make our way back to the workshop. “Isn’t that what apprentices are for? We can pass the task to a handful of them to manage.”

“I suppose,” I said with a slow nod, my mind starting to work ahead at the new possibilities the improvement would allow. “I guess if we had the cable supporting things, we could also increase the draw strength by quite a bit.”

“Yes, I believe we could,” Léandre mused as we picked up our pace. “Come, I must make a new sketch of this while it’s fresh in my mind. I think I have a way to improve the frame as well…”

Talking with growing excitement, we ended up rushing back to the workshop, any thoughts of logging off for the night fading away in light of our new ideas and improvements that we could make to the ballista’s design.

Or at least they did until we finished building our second ballista and the sun started to rise.

Chapter 20

Sunday, April 14th, 2047 – 9:51 p.m.

“Come on, Amaranth, stand up,” I found myself saying to my familiar impatiently for what had to be the fifth time, looking over his limp body in front of me with my work only half done.

<I do not want to,> Amaranth grumbled in a sulking tone. <This is truly unnecessary…and rather demeaning.>

“No, it isn’t,” I stated with a sigh, adjusting my grip on the item in my hand so I could glare down at the cat, his defeated eyes staring off into the distance. “Trust me, it’s going to help you.”

<Trust is what got me into this situation,> Amaranth replied, his tail flicking unhappily through the air. <And now look at me. I am caged, burdened, and unable to run free any longer.>

“What you are…” I started to say with frustration, subtlety shifting my weight to one leg as I spoke, “…is protected. So that if I do something—”

I suddenly lashed out with a sharp kick mid-sentence, directing my foot right into Amaranth’s side, a loud clang of metal sounding out an instant later.

“—you’ll barely even feel it,” I finished, seeing the azure-furred puma react belatedly, his head twisting to look back at me with an angry hiss, teeth bared. Having had enough of cat’s attitude, I didn’t back down from his display, instead thrusting a finger directly into his face. “Or, more specifically, the next time we find ourselves fighting some sort of nightmarish horror, a gentle caress from a claw won’t see you completely disemboweled and bleeding out.”

<It was hardly a “gentle” caress that wounded me,> Amaranth retorted weakly as he closed his mouth but continued to stare up at me defiantly, his ears flat against his head.

“And that is exactly why you need this,” I stated, waving the piece of armor that I was holding in my other hand. “Because when you do actually get hit by something like that again, you’ll be able to walk away from it with barely a scratch.”

<Hrm…> he mentally grunted a few seconds later, followed by a long and drawn out sigh as he slowly pushed himself up and off the ground, the sound of metal jingling. <Very well. Do what you must.>

“That’s the spirit! Just bear with me a bit longer,” I said with barely concealed relief, giving my familiar a reassuring scratch on his neck. “Once this is all on and tightened properly, you’ll barely feel like you’re wearing anything.”

Hearing another resigned croak from Amaranth, I began to readjust a series of straps that had shifted out of place when he’d fallen to the ground in protest. Working quickly, I managed to get everything in order and continued onwards with my previous efforts, threading another length of leather around the cat’s midsection and attaching the piece of armor that I’d been holding. Fighting back a wave of exhaustion as I worked, I was forced to pause on a few occasions to yawn and rub away the growing sleep that was accumulating in my eyes—my body’s way of telling me that it desperately needed rest.

Flying by in a blur of endless labor, the weekend had felt like a single exceptionally long day, the hours spent within the crafting hall stitching themselves together without pause. But despite being exhausted nearly to the point of falling down, that time had been well spent, allowing both myself and the other crafters to churn out everything we could possibly need for the days ahead—which was where the night found me as I finally decided that it was time to tackle a project that had been lingering at the back of mind for the last few weeks.

That project in question being armor for Amaranth.

Expressing no interest in ever having a set made for himself and exhibiting the typical cat-like reaction when it came to having anything covering him, I’d put off the idea of armoring my familiar, thinking it an exercise in futility. However, in light of his mauling by one of the corrupted guardians—and the battles I knew were coming in the days ahead—I no longer felt like it was something that I was able to ignore. To that end, I decided to finally go about making a set of armor for Amaranth, the end result turning out even better than I had ever hoped.

“There!” I exclaimed, tightening a final strap on the cat’s forearm and taking a step back from the creature. “How does that feel?”

<It is…tolerable,> Amaranth replied slowly as he twisted from side to side, the armor now covering him whispering softly. <In fact, I feel somehow…stronger than I had before and like I could catch the wind if I tried.>

“That’s the enchantment working then,” I said to my familiar, breaking into a smile as he tested his range of motion with a series of pounces. “It’ll help you fight better, while also keeping you safe.”

<Hm…> Amaranth mused, abandoning his pouncing in favor of a slow trot around the room. <Perhaps one could get used to this…>

“I sure hope so!” I replied, watching my familiar’s movements carefully as he continued to move, trying to see if anything needed any further adjusting.

Clad completely from head to hindquarters, I’d taken special care to make sure that none of the armor interfered with Amaranth’s movements. Starting with his head, I’d created a helmet for the cat, the metal stretching far enough to offer protection to his nose, face, and jaw, yet not too far to hinder his ability to bite. From there, I created a seamless collar that fit snugly at the base of the helmet, protecting both his neck and throat while also remaining as flexible as I could make it.

On each leg, I included an articulated layer of armor that would protect the limbs from any stray attacks but still allowing Amaranth free use of his claws. Then, finally, came the body armor that covered the remainder of my familiar, the segmented pieces of metal giving a thick layer of protection to his back and sides. There was no doubt in my mind that if anything wanted to harm the cat from here on out, they would certainly have to work hard for it.

Seems like it’s all fitting pretty well, I thought happily as I watched Amaranth pick up speed in his rush around the room, any earlier reservations fading away with every step that he took.

“So,” I said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room as the puma finally came to a stop and trotted over towards me. “What do you think?”

<It is…more pleasant than I thought it would be,> Amaranth admitted as he sat down in front of me. <Though I can hear nearly every step I take. Learning to hunt with this armor on will be a new challenge.>

“Yeah,” I replied, nodding at my familiar. “Unfortunately, almost all armor has that problem one way or another. Now let me take a look at your straps and see how they held up after your little run. I want to make sure that everything is fitting properly.”

Standing up without complaint, Amaranth allowed me to look over his armor, finding nothing that stood out to my critical eye. Finishing up with my inspection, I took a second to glance over the armor’s description one more time, seeing its tag appear in my vision.

Iron Warcat Armor Set

Slots: Arms, Body, Legs, Head, Neck

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Good (+15%)

Armor: 400

Set Bonus: (5/5)

Strength: +18 Agility: +18

Armor Type: Light

Weight: 23 kg

Favored Class: Any Martial

Level: 24

I think this’ll do great for the next little while, I thought with an excited smile as I looked over the armor’s description and dismissed it from my vision. It was a bit tricky coming up with a design for Amaranth, and I think I have a few ideas for things I could do better next time. This should keep him safe until then, though.

But for all of my excitement of seeing the newly made armor for Amaranth, there was one more thing that I’d been looking forward to checking out once I managed to outfit my familiar—something I’d only ever glanced at in passing without too much focus: his character sheet.

Not having had much reason over the last two months to dive into my familiar’s statistics or attributes, since they auto leveled themselves without my intervention, I was long overdue in reading it over and seeing the impact that the new armor made. With an excited thought, I called up Amaranth’s character sheet for the first time in ages, taking the time to refamiliarize myself with it.

Amaranth – Level 24 Familiar

Male Puma (Ætherwarped)

Statistics:

HP: 1448/1448

Stamina: 1448/1448

Mana: 744/744

Attributes:

Strength: 113 (131)

Agility: 107 (125)

Constitution: 88

Intelligence: 24

Willpower: 24

Abilities:

Sneak Attack III (Passive) – Attacks made before the target is aware of you automatically deal Natural Weapon Damage +75.

Ambush III (Active: 60 Stamina) – You ambush your target, striking them in a vulnerable location. Deals Natural Weapon Damage +300. This ability can only be used on a target unaware of you.

Power Attack III (Active: 50 Stamina) – You viciously attack your target putting extra strength behind the blow. Deal Natural Weapon Damage +55.

Pounce & Rake (Active: 60) – You leap upon your target, potentially knocking it down, where you then brutally rake it with your hind claws. Deal Natural Weapon Damage +120.

Primal Mastery III (Passive) – All Natural Weapon attack damage is increased by 85.

Skills:

Martial:

Primal Combat – Level 24 – 64%

Other:

Stealth – Level 24 – 93%

Perception – Level 24 – 71%

Racial Trait:

Primal Predator – Built for the hunt, you are without peer when it comes to tracking prey by either sound, smell, or sight.

Looks like he’s keeping himself trained up naturally, I noted as I finished skimming over the sheet, stopping early before the trait section, which contained a nearly identical version of the ætherwarped traits that I had, save for the mana draining portions of it. And his attributes seem to be pretty favorably developed towards melee. Then once Léandre and I can figure out how to finally put a third attribute onto a piece of armor, we can add onto his Constitution a bit more.

“Ho! Where’s the loot?” Constantine’s shouting voice suddenly boomed through the air, just barely a second ahead of a loud thump marking the door to the room being thrown open. “Léandre promised me that there would be some new threads and sharp—ah! Wait, i-is that Amaranth under that armor?”

“That it is!” I said, patting the armored puma’s side as he trotted towards Constantine, Halcyon, Drace, and Léandre as they all entered the room. “What do you guys think?”

“He looks great!” Halcyon exclaimed as he pushed past the rogue and bent down to inspect Amaranth, reaching out to scratch his chin in the process. “How’d you manage to convince him to even wear this?”

“Oh, that was easy,” I replied with a shrug. “I told him it’d make him faster for chasing Constantine around the town. He practically put it on himself after that.”

“Lyr, please no,” Constantine said, prompting a snort of laughter from Halcyon and a croak of amusement from Amaranth. “I could barely keep ahead of him when he was still naked. I doubt I even have a chance now.”

“Can animals even be naked?” Halcyon asked thoughtfully before shaking his head. “Actually, you know what, on second thought, never mind that question. That’s a rabbit hole I don’t want to go down.”

“That’s probably for the best,” I replied with a chuckle as I motioned for everyone’s attention to shift towards several stands of freshly crafted armor and weapons lined up against the far wall. “And speaking of new gear, we have it all set up for you guys over there.”

“Sweet!” Drace exclaimed as both he and the others promptly made a straight line for the equipment. “Any chance that you guys managed to figure out that damage reduction thing with the æthertouched iron?”

“We did,” I replied, following the group as we all walked across the room. “It took a bit of doing, but we got it all sorted out. Plus we even managed to craft a new set of armor for everyone with the iron that we’ve been bringing up from the Twilight Grove. With all the fighting going on over the last couple weeks, we’ve been long due a gear update.”

“That we are,” Halcyon agreed. “And we appreciate all the work on keeping us outfitted, Lyr. Same to you too, Léandre.”

“We are happy to do it,” the Tul’Shar replied in a gracious tone while motioning a second time to the waiting equipment. “Now, please, try everything on and let us know how it fits. Should we need any adjustments, we still have time to make them.”

Not needing a second invitation, the group didn’t hesitate in descending on the awaiting collection of weaponry and armor, excited voices calling out as they read over the item descriptions and familiarized themselves with their new equipment. No doubt feeling nervous about our earlier exchange, Constantine even went as far as to dress in his new equipment, likely not wanting to be caught without an edge should another hide and seek game with Amaranth suddenly start. Watching the group put on their armor, I brought up the description of one the sets to check it one last time, seeing a small box appear in my vision revealing similar stats to what I’d just seen with Amaranth’s armor.

Iron Raiment Armor Set

Slots: Arm, Chest, Feet, Hands, Legs, Head, Shoulders

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Good (+15%)

Armor: 430

Set Bonus: (7/7)

Strength: +18 Agility: +18

Armor Type: Light

Weight: 19 kg

Favored Class: Any Martial

Level: 24

“So I know it is likely getting more than a little boring in seeing the same group of attributes on an item and having it increment slowly with each new set,” I started to say to the group once the excitement had died down, dismissing the armor’s description as I spoke, “but Thorne, Léandre, and I have wracked our brains in trying to figure out how to add additional attributes to an item, and so far, we have come up completely empty. Our best guesses at this point are that it’s either locked behind hitting level thirty in a tradeskill—the actual enchanting tradeskill—or some other sort of hidden crafting trait, like the Re-Forging trait.”

“I was wondering about that,” Halcyon said as he looked up from inspecting his new armor, already having put a pair of gloves on. “But by no means am I complaining either. Higher stats and better armor help in their own way as well.”

“That it does. Though if it helps, we are far from the only ones that are having this block,” Léandre added, nodding in my direction as he spoke. “In the last week, I’ve scoured dozens of feeds from other high-level crafters and haven’t found any clues to work with. Right now, the common theory is that those ‘essences’ that you all have been finding will somehow be used in the crafting process, but exactly how no one has figured out yet. Well, figure out and share at least.”

“I hear that,” Drace chimed in. “Even if we’re only able to add a handful of attribute points on an armor set, and just as many more on a weapon as well, that’s a massive boost in its own right.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed. “I can’t blame anyone who’s figured it out for keeping it close to their chest. I know I would in their shoes.”

“I’m sure you guys will figure it out,” Constantine said confidently as he stretched his arms over his head, testing the range of motion for the new armor. “But while we’re in the spirit of giving everyone new stuff, I think it’s my turn to show off a few things I’ve been working on.”

“Wait, you know how to work?” Halcyon asked with a disbelieving tone as we all turned to look towards the rogue. “Since when?”

“Since I accidentally decided to catch an orc mace with my face and respawned here,” Constantine replied in a dry tone as he reached into a pocket and pulled out a vial with a purple liquid inside it and held it out towards him. “So instead of making the run back to the others on the plains, I figured that I could help Marlin around the lab for a while…and, well, long story short, we came up with this.”

“Uh…oh wow,” the mage muttered as he glanced down at the vial, going as far as to take it out of Constantine’s hand. “You really made this?”

“Hell, yeah!” Constantine exclaimed, reaching into a belt pouch and pulling out several more vials. “Along with all these other ones too. Here, take them and pass them around. I made enough for everyone to have a few.”

With that, we all crowded curiously around Constantine as he began to pull a series of items from his inventory, handing them out to each of us. In short order, I found my hands full with four potions, their descriptions floating in my vision.

Battle Potion of Agility

Use: Gain 33 Agility for the next 66 seconds.

Lesser Healing Potion

Use: Heal 475 hit points over the next 9 seconds.

Lesser Mana Potion

Use: Recover 360 mana over the next 9 seconds.

Lesser Regeneration Potion

Use: Increases regeneration rate by 11 hit points every 5 seconds for the next 66 minutes.

“Damn, these are awesome, Constantine!” I exclaimed, looking up at the rogue with an amazed expression. “You even made a mana potion! How the hell did you manage that?”

“Yeah, I figured you’d like that one!” Constantine replied with an even wider grin. “And the answer to that is actually æther. Very, very, verrrry small amounts of it diluted into a lot of water, which was then partially boiled off and mixed with…well, a bunch of other stuff you probably don’t want to know about if you’re going to drink it. But the end result is pretty stable and gives you a decent shot of mana when you chug it down.”

“And you’re sure it’s safe to drink, right?” I asked, looking down at the faintly glowing azure vial in my hands. “Because I really can’t afford to become even more ætherwarped…”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Constantine replied confidently. “We had Donovan help with the process. Apparently, potions like these were one of the uses of manufactured æther back in Eberia. Groups of spellcasters would first create the æther in its super-concentrated state, then dilute it down into potions for later use on the battlefield. It just wasn’t exactly common, since æther was so expensive and hard to make. It usually got funneled towards other uses.”

“But in our case, since we have our own personal fountain of natural æther so to speak…” I said, trailing off as I slowly nodded in understanding.

“Pretty much,” Constantine agreed before turning his attention back towards everyone else. “So anyway, in addition to all the things that I’ve handed out so far, I also have a night vision potion that’s still brewing in the lab, plus a bunch more of those battle potions for every single attribute.”

“Damn, man, this has to have been a ton of work to get sorted out,” Drace stated, shaking his head at a pair of potions in his hands. “And hell, when did you learn all this? I never even knew you were an alchemist.”

“Oh, just here and there,” Constantine replied vaguely, giving the half-giant a shrug as if the question didn’t matter. “Just trying to do what I can to help.”

“Well, now that we know you can do it, just keep these potions coming and that’ll be plenty of help going forward,” I said, pocketing the vials that I was holding.

“I think I can do that,” the rogue affirmed confidently before indicating the still-open door. “And speaking of that, I should actually get back to the lab to finish all the stuff I have on the go.”

“Same here,” Drace added. “I’m due to head out back towards Valor’s Point with another load of ballistae as soon as we’re all sorted here.”

“Well, hang on a sec,” I said, stopping the pair before they could both run off. “I was hoping for updates from you all before we all went our own ways again. How is it going on the front? I’ve been working here pretty much nonstop, and I’ve only kept up on the broad strokes of what’s going on up there.”

“Oh, right,” Constantine answered, his head turning towards Drace and Halcyon. “Maybe it’s better if you guys fill him in? I bit it pretty early Friday afternoon. You guys lasted a hell of a lot longer. I’m not even really sure how things are going now either.”

“They go about as well as we could have realistically hoped, all things considered at least,” Drace replied, his large shoulders offering me a shrug as he spoke. “Like Constantine said, we hit the orcs hard on Friday afternoon while they were still getting themselves ready. We took out a couple dozen scouts and at least three of their corrupted dervishes, which while tough, go down much easier than the bigger guardians.

“From there, we hit their camp hard and tried to leave behind as much destruction as possible,” Drace continued, his head shaking from side to side. “But we didn’t get nearly as much time as we’d hoped. The orcs rallied fast and hit us back hard, forcing us out on our heels.”

“And me back to Aldford,” Constantine added, miming a swing with a weapon as he spoke. “One minute I was torching supplies, then the next I was caught right in the middle of their counterattack. I lasted just long enough to get a few swings in…then boom. I was here.”

“You and a bunch of others too,” Drace agreed, his expression hardening as he continued his story. “From there, it was a trick in itself to disengage from the orcs. They made sure to hound us as hard as they possibly could, sending a bunch of their constructs after us. It was only after we took down a handful more of the things that they pulled them back and were satisfied with just skirmishing.

“After that, things got more difficult once they knew we were out there. They redoubled their screening lines and brought up even more orcs from deeper in the forest that very day. Then by the time Saturday morning hit, they were all starting to march down towards us here at Aldford. And I mean march fast, like they’d forgotten to turn the oven off at home and were rushing to get back. Between yesterday and today, we’ve done what we could to slow them and whittle down their numbers, but with how badly outnumbered we are, there’s only so much we can do. Before Hal and I went down today, they’d managed to push us all the way back to the lake by Shadow’s Fall.”

“The key words in all of that being ‘badly outnumbered’,” Halcyon chimed in with grimace, his eyes fading out of focus as he recalled a memory. “And since I know what you’re going to ask next, I’d say we’re dealing with anywhere between five and six hundred orcs, a hundred or so of those corrupted constructs, and roughly seventy-ish of the Dread Crew. Though it’s hard to tell with them since they seem to be staying hidden in the center of the orc army on purpose.”

“Could be worse,” I said in a soft voice, having expected a count around that number based on the few snippets that I had managed to hear. Combined all together, the orcs forces roughly totaled close to three times the number of combatants that we could field if we included all of the combat-capable NPCs in the town.

Or almost four times our number if we counted only adventurers.

“I guess it’s a good thing we devoted the time to shoring up our defenses then,” Léandre stated in an optimistic tone. “I imagine that even a force eight hundred strong will hesitate in marching directly into what we’ve prepared for them on the plain’s edge. Unless they are willing to pay a good portion of their number in blood to smash it.”

“Which could actually help us out if they tried to,” Drace said in a wistful tone. “It would turn the attrition game much more in our favor.”

“Assuming that they didn’t have any more reinforcements coming,” I pointed out, not entirely disagreeing with the man’s logic. Our biggest advantage that we had to offset the orcs’ numbers were our prepared defenses—both at the plains and the palisade around Aldford itself. If they really wanted to defeat us in detail, they would be forced to fight through the best of what we could throw at them, twice, and hope that they were still standing afterward.

“There is that,” the half-giant agreed, his expression changing as he gave me a questioning look. “And actually, on that note of reinforcements, what’s the update on ours? Did you have any luck in moving the meeting with the guilds up? And what about Lazarus and the others too? Any news from them?”

“Yes, on the first question and not yet on the second,” I replied, giving the man a half nod. “After telling them that our opportunity was a bit time-sensitive, I managed to move up the meeting to tomorrow morning with both of the guilds at the same time. Roughly a day and a half earlier than before. Apparently, things are starting to heat up again out by Coldscar, and they’ve all been wrapped up in just trying to stay out of trouble.”

“Shit,” Halcyon cursed with a scowl. “Heat up how? Was it the Ascendancy?”

“They’re part of it, but largely no,” I answered, recalling the brief emails that I’d received from the two guilds in question. “The guild wars in the area are starting to escalate, over and above what they have in the past, and unless things calm down, the whole region surrounding Coldscar is set to go off like a powder keg.”

“Fantastic,” Constantine grumbled, the rogue rather familiar with the political issues the region had. “That’s exactly the sort of complication that we need right now back on the home front.”

“My thoughts too,” I replied, having shared the same frustration when I’d gotten the news. “But anyway, beyond that particular bit of news, I haven’t heard anything at all from Lazarus and the others since they left on Friday. Based on when they left, they should have made it to Coldscar at some point today depending on how fast they were able to travel, but at the same time, if things are starting to go to hell…”

“Then they could have possibly run into trouble along the way somewhere,” Constantine finished, a series of grim nods passing across each of our faces.

“That’s what I’m thinking,” I said with a sigh. “But at the same time, it’s not like they’ve gone and respawned back here either. So they’re still alive at least.”

“Good point,” Drace agreed, a grin slowly growing across his face. “Plus, the three of them are pretty good scrappers in their own right. Anyone who tries getting in their way is going to regret it and fast.”

“Without a doubt,” I said, matching the man’s smile with one of my own. “In either case, I’m hoping that they’ll finally give us an update sooner rather than later. I’m starting to feel a little anxious every time I check our chat and find it empty.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Constantine said as he moved to leave once more. “And speaking of morning, I need to get going if I’m going to finish everything I want to do before midnight. These potions don’t brew themselves after all. Er, well, at least most of them don’t. There are a few that do brew themselves, but they also tend to like to explode and catch fire if they happen to brew too long.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Drace asked, looking a bit worried at the rogue’s statement. “Can that really happen?”

“I don’t know,” Constantine replied with a shrug. “Do you want me to hang around here until you hear a loud bang and people start screaming?”

“Uh, n-no,” the half-giant replied, shooing away the rogue with both hands. “Go do what you need to do.”

“Can do,” Constantine replied with a mock salute before turning it into a farewell wave as he rushed out of the room at a near run. “Catch you guys later!”

Watching the man as he sprinted away, the five of us stared in his direction speechlessly for a few seconds before Halcyon finally broke the silence.

“Is it just me, or did things seem a bit safer when Constantine was lazy?”

Chapter 21

Monday, April 15th, 2047 – 6:30 a.m.

CTI Player Housing Complex

“Ugh.” I let out a weak and tired groan as a buzzing vibration shooting up my arm pulled me out of my dreams and back into reality. Moving on autopilot, I silenced my watch’s alarm and slid out from under my covers, letting out another groan as my bare feet touched the cold floor. Half-awake, I stumbled out of the bedroom and made my way out into the hall, which automatically illuminated with a soft light.

“Sterling,” I called out as I walked, speaking the name of our suite’s ill-used AI assistant. “Please start a pot of coffee and order breakfast for me. Something with a lot of eggs and bacon today.”

“Of course, sir,” a cheerful British voice answered, echoing out from somewhere above me as I made my way towards the washroom. “I’ll take care of it right away. Would you like to hear the news this morning or possibly some music in the meantime?”

“No, thank you, Sterling,” I answered with a still sleepy shake of my head, vaguely remembering that it had been Peter who had programmed the AI, setting its personality to one of a butler. “I need a quiet morning today.”

“Righto, sir,” the voice replied. “I will leave you be and let you know when breakfast is arriving. Please call me if you need anything.”

With my breakfast and coffee then in motion, I continued with my morning ablutions, my slowly waking mind replaying yesterday’s events. After seeing everyone off last night, I’d returned back to working on getting Amaranth’s armor finalized and properly fitted, the cat more than obliging to stay put during the process. It was only once that was finished that I finally turned my efforts towards my own weapons and armor, having left off upgrading my own gear until I’d taken care of everyone else. Fortunately though, thanks to the experience that I’d gained over the weekend’s crafting marathon, I was able to quickly finish the easier of the two projects, making myself a similar suit of armor as the one I’d given Peter.

In the case of a weapon, however, that had taken a bit longer since I’d focused my efforts on upgrading Splinter, rather than completely starting from scratch with a new weapon. This was largely in part because I was loath to give up the benefits of wielding an æthertouched weapon, relying on its special properties to not only deliver my touch attacks but to also drain mana. Fortunately, given that Splinter already had that base property, all it took to upgrade it was a bit of modification and a handful of æthertouched iron shards. Working carefully, I cut out a portion of the weathered and chipped blade before hollowing out a portion of its spine. Once that was completed, I sank in a series of the razor-sharp æthertouched iron teeth and fastened them in place, giving the once sleek weapon a vicious and bloodthirsty look.

And a hell of a lot more damage and stats too if I remember right, I said mentally, rubbing my face as I stood under a hot stream of water in the bathroom’s shower, my brain still struggling to boot up and become capable of rational thought. Unless…I dreamed the whole thing? Did I actually do that last night, or—

“Sir, pardon my interruption, but I wanted to let you know that your breakfast will be arriving shortly,” Sterling’s soft voice suddenly echoed through the bathroom. “And your coffee is ready.”

“Already?” I replied tiredly, glancing towards a digital clock conveniently placed in the shower and realizing that my slow daydreaming had cost me nearly twenty minutes of my morning. “Oh, damn. Be right out.”

“Of course, sir,” the AI replied as I turned the shower off and reached for a towel, muttering softly as I did so.

“Come on, wakey, wakey, Marc,” I said in a whisper as I began to dry myself. “You need to be sharp this morning and not lost in your head. You’re only going to get one shot to politely convince a group of strangers to abandon their current homes, march who knows how many miles through a growing guild war, and then pick a fight with a giant horde of marauding orcs. And to do it fast, because if they show up too late, the orcs will simply steamroll them too.”

Sighing loudly into the empty apartment, I finished drying myself off and got dressed, continuing my grumbling all the way into our kitchenette, where I was greeted by a full carafe of steaming coffee, courtesy of Sterling’s digital efforts.

I know they’re going to want to know everything they possibly can about the orcs when I talk to them, but at the same time, we know next to nothing ourselves, I thought with a grimace as I poured myself a large cup of coffee, adding my usual amount of sugar and cream. The only thing that we know for certain is that they’re enslaving the local NPCs somewhere farther north of us and into the swamp. Not to mention our settlers too. We have no idea of their numbers, their goals, or even where their city is—at least not beyond ‘somewhere in the Hartwyld’. Our only option might be—

I was saved from my spiraling thoughts by a soft chime coming from the door, followed by Sterling’s voice once more echoing above me.

“Sir, breakfast is here,” he announced. “Shall I let it in?”

“Yes, please,” I replied, grabbing my cup of coffee as I stepped out into the main room, seeing the door open and a waist-high serving robot soundlessly glide into the room. Essentially a motorized white rectangle standing on its end, the droid came to a stop and a compartment on its side opened, sending out an enticing aroma of food wafting into the air.

“Greetings, Marcus. Your order has arrived. Please remove your tray,” the robot intoned in a soft, genderless voice.

Setting my coffee down on a nearby table, I retrieved my breakfast from the open compartment, instantly happy to see a large plate filled with a small mountain of eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast. Its task then complete, the serving droid’s compartment closed, and it silently wheeled itself out of the room without another word, the door sliding shut behind it. With the tray in hand, I took a seat at the table and eagerly began to dig into my meal.

Now that food’s settled, let’s change things up and see what’s going on in our offline chats, I thought as I ate, turning on my tablet with my free hand and bringing up the messaging program that we used. Hopefully, nothing has caught on fire since last night and the others are having a good night keeping the orcs back. If they are, then I can at least use that to help sell the guilds in coming up to join us.

Bringing up one of our group chats, I busied myself catching up with the news, starting with the few reports from yesterday and continuing onwards into today.

Looks like they managed to keep all of the orcs at bay near Shadow’s Fall yesterday, I noted as I mentally summarized all of the messages which outlined the status of our war so far.

After being forced to give ground all weekend, Freya and all of the other adventurers had managed to momentarily stall the orc advance on the northern edge of the lake where Shadow’s Fall once stood. From what I gathered in the messages, she had managed to trick a portion of the orc forces into pursuing her eastwards around the lake and across a series of rivers that drained out from it. Then as the orcs were forced to ford each river, she made sure to harry them as best as she could, forcing them to make the crossing while under fire before abruptly retreating. Repeating the process across each river, she managed to stretch the orcs out across several miles before finally committing to an assault. The end result had the orcs on a sudden retreat with several rivers at their back that they were forced to scramble over, resulting in a great deal of casualties on their end—and more importantly, stalling their advance for the rest of the day and night.

Though even with that delay, everyone still thinks that the orcs will be at our doorstep sometime Tuesday, I noted as I finished reading. It’s a matter of time until they flank the lake from the west and make it onto the plains. Once they’ve made it that far, the terrain will be too open and wide for us to do anything other than harass them and pull back towards Valor’s Point.

Trusting that Freya and the others had everything in hand with dealing with the orcs, I typed out a short note of encouragement for all of them, along with a brief update on how preparations on our side were proceeding. Once I finished with my message, I tabbed out to the next chat in my list seeing that it had a new response waiting for me. As I did so, I felt my heart begin to race with excitement as I realized that the channel belonged to the one we’d set up with Lazarus and the others before their departure. When I had last checked it before going to sleep earlier in the morning, there hadn’t been any update at all, prompting me to drop a short message in the channel to check in with the group.

It seemed to have done its job, because a few seconds later, I found myself coughing violently, having accidentally inhaled a lungful of eggs and bacon after making it halfway through the single message waiting for me.

“Ah! Urk…damn it! Ugh!” I managed to wheeze amid my coughing as I desperately tried to clear the food that had gone down the wrong way. “Rah!”

Sucking a deep breath as I soon as I was able to again, I looked back down at the message that had nearly killed me, rereading it carefully once more.

Gavin: Sorry for the late update, Marc, it’s been a complete shitshow on our end the last day or so. Finally made it to Coldscar late yesterday, and this place is already screwed. Players are at one another’s throats, and the NPCs aren’t taking any shit. Someone apparently tried to sabotage both the defenses and supplies here the day before we arrived. For what reason, I have no idea.

Then, if that wasn’t enough already, last night someone tried to assassinate Marshal Tarius. If it wasn’t for us, they probably would have managed it too. Too early to say who’s behind it, but so far it looks like the Church of Nil might be involved along with some of the nobles back in Eberia. Possibly players too. Not sure. Crashing to sleep now, then diving back in. Will update as we know more, but it might be a few days until we can get a handle on this. Hope things aren’t as nearly as exciting back over there.

“Damn,” I whispered as I finished reading the message again, this time noting the timestamp, which showed that it had been posted shortly after five this morning. I guess it’s a damn good thing that we sent Gavin and the others back after all! From how highly Aldwin speaks of the marshal, losing him would have been something that Eberia couldn’t have afforded, not that the other parts of Gavin’s news is really any better.

Exhaling with resignation, I rubbed my face in defeat before looking down and starting to clean up the mess that I’d made of my breakfast. As bad as the news was, there was little realistically that I’d be able to do to affect it, at least beyond what we’d already done and set in motion. Our exposé on Graves, or the man that we thought was Graves, was currently being crafted by Paul and would be ready soon enough. Plus, with the others now on the scene so to speak, we at least had the ability to affect events and hopefully steer them in the direction that we needed to.

I just had to trust them to do their best and not micromanage.

“That and because you have your own problems to worry about, Marc,” I muttered to myself as I finished off the remains of my breakfast, remembering a time when my life seemed so much simpler—and a great deal less surreal.

I mean, seriously, who’s ever really had to deal with their very own horde of orcs and mysterious corruption before? I added mentally, picking up my tray and taking it back to the kitchen before heading over towards one of the computers with a new cup of coffee in hand. Glancing at the time as I sat down, I saw that I had just enough time before the meeting to type out a few replies in our various other chats as well as prepare a few notes for the meeting.

“All right, Marc, fingers crossed,” I whispered what felt like an instant later as I pulled a headset over my head and began the meeting on the conference program I was using. “No stress. You got this.”

With nothing to do until the others joined, I turned my attention inward as I drank the rest of my coffee, mentally clearing my head for the meeting to come. When we’d first sent out our inquiries to the Lionheart and Legion guilds, we’d made sure to be completely upfront about our agenda to make sure that the interest to move to Aldford was there in the first place.

After all, there was no reason to waste our time trying to convince them to move if they already had no intention of doing so. But in addition to the inquiry itself, however, we’d also made sure to include highlights of what we’d be able to offer the two guilds if they chose to come and help us, hoping that it would be sweet enough to entice them. All that remained at this point was to finally meet them face to face and to formally extend the offer and answer any questions that they might have.

Plus update them on our current situation now too, I reminded myself, hoping that our latest developments with the orcs didn’t scare the two guilds off.

My thoughts were abruptly ended by twin chimes echoing out back to back as a pair of users joined the meeting, my screen splitting itself in half and revealing two faces on the left side, and a single one on the right. Focusing first on the left half of the screen, I saw a man and a woman in their mid-twenties staring back at me, their near-identical black hair and green eyes causing me to peg them as siblings. Shifting to the other screen, I saw a man around my age with close-cut blond hair and blue eyes gazing back towards me expectantly. All three of them were exceptionally lean from what I could see out of my small screen, a sure sign that they’d spent enough time in Ascend Online for the VR diet to affect their physical bodies.

“Good morning, everyone,” I said as I flashed a warm smile to the group, my quick appraisal of everyone having only lasted a second. “Thanks so much for coming.”

“And miss a chance to meet Lyrian, the mysterious man behind the legendary guild that is Virtus?” the man on my right asked, matching my smile as he spoke. “I think not.”

“We’ll second that,” the dark-haired woman from the other screen agreed, her face narrowing in confusion. “On that note though, are we going by game names here or our normal ones?”

“Normal names are fine with me,” I answered with a slightly embarrassed shrug, not quite used to the fame my reputation was starting to garner in certain circles. “I’m Marcus.”

“You’re a Marcus, eh?” the woman replied with a grin as she tested the name. “I’m Elissa, and if you can’t tell, this quiet lump over here is my brother, Elliott.”

“I’m only quiet because you’ve said more words than everyone else combined so far, sis,” the dark-haired man beside Elissa said, his voice sounding faintly exasperated. “But anyway, good morning, everyone.”

“And I’m Jay,” the blond-haired man said, his hand appearing briefly as he waved at the screen. “Happy to meet you all.”

“Likewise,” I said, feeling some of my initial nervousness for the meeting fade now that the ice had been broken. “Now before we get things rolling, I’m not sure if you’ve had a chance to cross paths with one another in-game. But so we’re all on the same page here and know who’s who, Elissa and Elliott co-lead the Lionheart guild, whereas Jay is the guild leader of Legion.”

“I’ve heard of the name, but I don’t think we’ve ever met,” Elissa said, offering her own wave to the screen.

“We have now,” Jay replied with a polite smile, offering a nod to the two siblings in greeting.

“Great,” I said, relieved to be through the introduction process. “Now I’m sure you’re all wondering about the invitations that brought you here, and well, to put it bluntly, it’s because we need help. Specifically, help that we can trust, and after researching all of the guilds in Coldscar, it was your two that stood out the best for us.”

“Well, I have to admit that’s pretty flattering to hear,” Jay replied. “But I’m curious, what do you exactly mean by help? Your original email that you sent asked if my guild would be open to making a move from Coldscar and settling in Aldford. Is that something that has changed now and why you asked us to move up the meeting?”

“At its heart, no,” I stated, shaking my head as I spoke. “But unfortunately, the situation in Aldford itself has evolved since we sent that invite, and we’re looking at new challenges. Some of them with the potential to be rather serious. If you are still interested, I think it’s only fair that you know where things stand now.”

“Well, that damn sure sounds ominous,” Elliott said, his head moving in my screen as he readjusted his seat, settling into a more attentive position. “What’s going on exactly?”

“Actually, let me answer that with a question first so I know where to start,” I said. “How closely, if at all, have you three been watching our feeds?”

“Close enough to know that you’re having a throwdown with Carver and his ‘Dread Crew’,” Jay answered without a moment’s hesitation, clearly having done his homework on us beforehand. “Or well, at least you were last week.”

“We’re caught up about the same as well,” Elissa stated, a curious expression visible on both hers and her brother’s face.

“Okay, good, that means I don’t need to go over too much background,” I replied, pausing for a second to collect my thoughts before continuing. “If you watch our feed over the next little while, you’re going to see our war with them hit a stalemate, followed by Carver and his inner circle vanishing. A few days after that, you’re then going to see the entire Dread Crew also vanish after we thoroughly kick their asses and take a few prisoners.”

“I’m guessing that they didn’t just quit,” Elissa stated, a frown coming over her face.

“If only,” I replied with a shake of my head. “I don’t suppose you remember those orcs that we saw briefly during Carver’s ambush a few weeks ago?”

“I do,” the woman answered slowly, her frown turning into a grimace as she realized the implication. “Shit, that means you found them then, didn’t you? With Carver.”

“Eventually,” I replied with a nod. “It took us a few days to regroup after they vanished, as well as to interrogate the prisoners. Along the way, we made a few disturbing discoveries…”

Over the next few minutes, I proceeded to lay all my cards on the table as I told the trio everything that we’d experienced over the last week, starting with our initial discovery of what had really happened to our missing settlers and continuing straight through our encounter with the corrupted guardians. I tried my best to leave little out as I spoke. I knew that if I was to have any chance of convincing them to join us, honesty was my best path to take. After all, our original goal for reaching out to players in Coldscar had been to find ones that would make good long-term partners. Lying about or downplaying our challenges would only serve to hurt that relationship.

“And that’s where we are today,” I stated, coming to the end of my explanation. “It’s still too early to say what Carver’s or the orcs’ goals are in any of this or what exactly this corruption is—and if it’s even relevant to anything—but I’m pretty confident that unless we get some help dealing with all of this, there’s a good chance that things are going to go bad. Really bad.”

“Damn,” Jay whispered, shaking his head as he absorbed my story. “You guys really don’t do things by half measure at all, do you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Elissa said, prompting her brother to also grunt in agreement.

“We do our best,” I said grimly as I glanced between both halves of the screens and the faces within, seeing their trepidation. “But with all of that being said, I’m not going to lie and say that there isn’t opportunity here either. Given some of the threads we’ve seen with the orcs, there’s a good chance we have a brand-new story arc here in the making, if not the beginnings of another world event. There’s no telling what the feed value for that even comes close to being, nor the more tangible things from a game character perspective either.”

“Loot and experience are certainly their own motivators,” Elliot stated, prompting a round of nods from everyone. “But on that note, you’d let us manage our own feeds? You’re not looking for any control, royalties, or rights?”

“Nope, at least nothing past basic common sense and operational security,” I replied, having expected the question. “If you do decide to join us, I’m sure there’ll be things that we would obviously like to keep under wraps until they’re no longer relevant, but otherwise, your feed is your own. If you want too, I can also introduce you to the company that manages our feed, and they can help keep everything straight.”

“That makes sense, and I think we can live with that,” the man said, nodding approvingly. “And what about leadership? Let’s say we do decide to move our guilds up there, how are things going to work when it comes to decision making?”

“Honestly, at the moment that is an evolving process,” I replied. “Right now, when it comes to things that affect Aldford or the surrounding region, I more or less have the final say about what course we take, but past that, I stay out of everyone else’s business. As we grow larger, that’s obviously going to have to change or become a bit more formal at some point, but given how the last few weeks have turned out, just trying to stay alive has been higher on our priority list.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s fair,” Elliot said, nodding in understanding.

From there, the meeting shifted into a barrage of questions between our three sides. Starting with initial logistical questions on what the region and Aldford itself could offer them, it then shifted into more speculative ones revolving around Carver and the orcs, as well as the inevitable war brewing between Eberia and the Ascendancy. Before I knew it, nearly two hours had passed, and I suddenly noticed a change in the demeanor of the three guild leaders. Their postures no longer looked hesitant or reserved as they had earlier in the meeting, and their voices were becoming filled with more excitement as they spoke. Hiding a mental smile as I noticed their body language and what it meant, I felt a single triumphant thought cut through my mind, followed by a wave of relief.

They were in.

Chapter 22

The Wilderness – Northeast of Aldford

Good morning! Welcome back to Ascend Online! The familiar text flashed across my vision as I once again logged back into the game, instantly feeling a sharp jolt shoot through my body as whatever I was sitting on bounced under me.

“Whoa!” I grunted in surprise as I landed on something hard under me, the swirling colors in my vision fading away and leaving me staring out at the flat countryside that was quickly moving past me. Several blinks later, I realized that I was sitting in a large wagon surrounded by familiar faces with something heavy across my lap, a wave of memories then flooding into my head.

“Look who finally made it back!” I heard Constantine’s voice announce from somewhere on my left as I mentally tried to make sense of everything that happened to me since I’d logged off last night, finding myself with a bit of a busier morning than I’d expected. “Here we were starting to think that you’d gone back to sleep on us.”

“It was tempting,” I replied, holding up a hand to stall any other comments as the faces around me resolved themselves to be Constantine, Halcyon, Amaranth, and Drace—though in the cat’s case, he was currently asleep and draped halfway across my legs, having curled himself into a partial ball in order to fit into the wagon. “Hang on a sec, though, let me catch up on the morning’s memory dump. I can’t think straight just yet.”

“Hurry up, man,” Halcyon grumbled from across from me. “We’ve been on pins and needles for an update all morning!”

Letting out a grunt in acknowledgment, I closed my eyes as I processed the morning’s events, the new influx of memories continuing to flood into my mind. Focusing my thoughts, I caught snapshots of the day so far, seeing that the majority of it revolved around crafting in the foundry early this morning. Then at some point afterward, I’d been conscripted by Léandre to help him finish off a few ballista components and help him assemble another two of the siege engines with a team of other crafters.

From there, once the machines had been finished, I’d helped load them along with several other crates of supplies onto a team of wagons before departing to Valor’s Point. Based on our plans, and the timing of the orcs advance, it was time for us to redouble our preparations in making sure that the hillfort was ready for battle. As such, I was moving up there along with the others to make sure that everything was in order and to make any last-minute adjustments that might be necessary.

Eventually finished with the inspection of my memories, I made to move to look back towards the group before remembering my earlier shower thoughts about Splinter’s upgraded state. While it was now several hours into the day and I was fueled with a healthy dose of coffee, I felt a sudden urge to check over the weapon, just to make sure that I indeed hadn’t actually dreamed of enhancing the weapon. Blinking at the mental thought, I called up my character sheet and brought up the item’s description, watching the sword’s stats appear in a faint box in the center of my vision.

Splinter

Slot: Main Hand

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Damage: 45-60 (Slashing)

Strength: +12 Agility: +12

Durability: 160/160

Weight: 2 kg

Special: Æthertouched

Class: Any Martial

Level: 25

Oh, good. I didn’t dream that after all, I said with a mental sigh of relief, both shaking my head at the ludicrous thought while making a mental note to never work myself into such exhaustion again. Maybe next time, Marc, you should try getting more than ten hours of sleep over the course of three days. Then you won’t be so confused about what you have or haven’t done.

“Okay, I think I’m caught up now,” I replied as I shook off my thoughts and focused back on the moment, the whole process of sifting through my memories only having taken a handful of seconds. “It was a busy morning from the looks of it.”

“They all have been lately,” Drace answered in a dry tone from directly to my right, causing me to turn my head and see an eager expression on the man’s face. “And that’s not what’s important right now. How did the meeting go?! You were gone for nearly the entire morning!”

“Yeah, man, we’re dying here,” Constantine chimed in, prompting a similar impatient sentiment from Halcyon. “Did they bite?”

“Not officially, but I am pretty confident that they’re on board,” I replied before going on to detail my meeting with the three guild leaders. In total, we’d ended up talking for nearly four hours before parting ways, with questions about logistics and developments around Aldford being the major focus. “…in the end they wanted a day to take the invitation back to their respective guilds and gauge what their members thought about the idea. They seemed initially nervous at first about our situation here with Carver and the orcs but warmed up to the idea as things went on. Apparently, things are bad enough there that rushing headlong into a horde of orcs is actually attractive.”

“Damn, I really hope that they’ll decide to come despite that then,” Constantine commented. “Things are only going to get rougher out here, and I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t think that we’re quite badass enough to carry this war solo.”

“Oh, no?” Drace asked in a mockingly concerned voice. “What happened to the confident and big energy Constantine that we know and begrudgingly tolerate?”

“He got a reality check,” the rogue replied, shaking his head. “Regardless of how awesome I think we are…quantity is its own kind of quality, and my nerves are starting to tingle.”

“Well, if we’re going to look at quantity, how many do you think that these two guilds will bring?” Halcyon asked, turning his head to look over towards me. “They’re both pretty decently sized guilds, right?”

“Yeah, they are,” I said, shifting slightly under a still sleeping Amaranth’s weight so I could easily see and talk to everyone in the wagon. “Between the both of them combined, they have about three-hundred and fiftyish adventurers, and then about three hundred NPCs of various stripes. But that’s at their current membership levels. There are likely going to be some players, and NPCs even, that won’t want to make the trip.”

“Yeah, and say they do come anyway, and we add that three-fifty to our current crop of adventurers, that’ll put us at what, five hundred or so?” Drace asked. “That means we just need to kill one or two orcs each and then go home.”

“Something tells me that it won’t be that easy,” Constantine replied, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. “But when you put it that way, it does make me feel a bit better.”

“Well, hold onto that thought, because I’m not sure how this next bit will make you feel, but while we’re talking about adventurers, that three-fifty number might end up increasing on its own,” I said, changing the conversation. “Because remember that guild war that I was talking about yesterday? Well, it’s apparently been heating up long before we found out about it and a bunch of guilds and people in general have started to leave Eberia and Coldscar in large groups and heading out into the wild.”

“Oh?” Caius queried, his voice sounding vaguely worried at my news. “And where are they going exactly?”

“Literally any direction that isn’t Eberia,” I answered with a grunt. “From what Mithaniel and the others were able to tell me, apparently a few hundred—yes, hundred—adventurers and counting have started to go north in the last week alone, straight into the Fens of Swyn. Apparently, people are either trying to start their own settlements in there to avoid the war or are cutting through it to get to the inner parts of the continent.”

“Assuming the Arakssi living in the swamp let them,” Caius commented. “Not to mention, the swamp doesn’t seem exactly hospitable either.”

“It sure doesn’t,” I agreed. “Anyway, other than that approach, they have also been heading out west towards us, but clearly not the entire way since none of them have arrived on our doorstep. Right now, rumor has it that there are a couple of scattered settlements out there but nothing solid.”

“Well, I guess that doesn’t really surprise me,” Drace said, having started to slowly nod as I spoke. “It’s a long way between Aldford and Coldscar. You could easily have a dozen or more places to settle without ever tripping over someone else. Not to mention that it was bound to happen as things got worse around Coldscar.”

“Oh, I’m not done yet. There’s still more going on,” I said as I began to share the news that Lazarus had left for us in our group chat. “…and that was it, he said he’d follow up in a few days when he had more information.”

“Shit,” Constantine cursed as I finished speaking. “Looks like we made the right call sending him back.”

“I thought the same thing,” I replied, sighing as I considered the sheer number of things that we were juggling. “Anyway, though, with all of that going on, chances are that we’re not going to be seeing any military help from Eberia anytime soon. Lazarus didn’t say anything specific about it in his message, but I know a long shot when I see one.”

“Yeah, me too,” Drace grunted. “If I was in his shoes and was just nearly taken out, the last thing I’d want to do is send away a crop of troops I could trust.”

“Pretty much,” I agreed before continuing. “Like I said before, I think our days as being off the beaten path are going to be coming to an end as these adventurers start coming our way. Over and above any extra attention our feed will generate and ‘tag alongs’ that follow our invitees.”

“And do you get the feeling that we should be worried about that?” Halcyon asked in a concerned tone. “With all of our focus on the plains right now, we don’t exactly have a large presence in Aldford if more people start arriving, let alone if those arriving do so with bad intentions.”

“I don’t know,” I answered, giving the mage the best shrug that I could manage while sitting down. “I don’t see anything that we can do about more people ‘possibly’ arriving at some point. It was simply bound to happen sooner or later. It’s also not like we can exactly avoid fighting the orcs now that we’ve found them either.”

“No, definitely not,” Halcyon stated, breathing his own sigh as he absorbed the information. “Assuming the two guilds are on board, what are we looking at for a timeline for them making their way towards us? If the orcs keep up their pace, or speed it up somehow, we might end up on borrowed time.”

“Barring no surprises?” I qualified. “I’m expecting at least a few days once they start moving, which at the earliest won’t be until late Thursday, but more realistically Friday or Saturday once they get themselves sorted out and ready. Best case after that would put them arriving here anywhere from the twenty-first to twenty-fourth, depending on how easily they can get out of the Coldscar area. There’s a good chance they might need to detour the long way around or even fight their way out if a rival guild doesn’t allow them passage through their territory.”

“Barring no surprises,” Constantine repeated with a shake of his head as everyone processed my words. “The words that just beg fate to descend down from the heavens and give you a whack with a baseball bat.”

“That sure seems like how it’s worked for us in the past,” Drace said with a fatalistic chuckle. “But hey, maybe it’ll be different this time?”

“We can hope,” I replied as optimistically as I could. “In either case though, I think that we need to plan on being on our own for roughly the next week. At least until we know more.”

“Given what you’ve told us, I think that’s a fair assumption,” Drace stated, his words causing a series of nods to pass between us. “Which means if we’re going to last that long, we’re going to need to give the orcs one hell of a bloody nose if they decide to try and take Valor’s Point—enough to make them think twice about pressing us even harder until help arrives.”

“Well, I have a dozen ballistae and six catapults so far that should help us do that, plus whatever extras Léandre manages to send our way in the days ahead,” I replied, glancing back towards our cargo that we were ferrying and seeing two of the former siege engines strapped onto the large flatbed. “If all that doesn’t make them think twice, I don’t know what will.”

“Me either,” Drace grunted. “But at the same time, we can’t take them for granted either. I’m sure that the orcs will have surprises of their own to spring against us when the time comes too. Especially when it comes to this corruption thing we still don’t know anything about.”

“Without a doubt,” I agreed as I nodded at the man. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, Donovan and Stanton had come up completely blank on trying to figure out what the corruption was, the pair admitting that they’d never seen or heard of anything like it. “Which is why we get to spend what time we have before their arrival to see if we can’t second-guess them and figure out what they could possibly do to make our life difficult when they finally reach us.”

With that, the four of us settled in for the trip across the grassy landscape, brainstorming how best to prepare for the orcs’ arrival. Unless something changed drastically in the days to come, it would be the largest and most critical battle that any of us had ever fought. One that, if we lost, could very well change the course of the war that we’d found ourselves in.

And not for the better.

Given that sense of urgency, we made sure to voice every single concern or idea that we had to one another, the next half hour until we finally reached Valor’s Point passing by quickly. Marked first by several columns of rising smoke on the horizon, the terrain around us began to change as we left the forested grassland that bordered the immediate Aldford area. Starting slowly as we drew closer to the hillfort, the land gradually sank on either side of us, with the stretch on our right sloping itself gently downwards toward the Hartwyld, and the scene on our left revealing the distant Greenwood. Continuing straight on ahead of us, the ground then peaked slightly before descending back into the vast sprawling expanse that was the plains.

“And here we are,” Constantine announced, the wagon turning under us as the driver readjusted our course, angling the vehicle towards a distant line of earthworks that slowly appeared on the horizon. “About time too, because all this bouncing around in here is making my butt hurt. I need to get out of this thing and back onto solid ground.”

“Amaranth and I are going to have to agree with you there too,” I replied, wincing from stiffness as I tried to stretch in my seated position. During our journey here, Amaranth had woken up from his brief nap and immediately begun to move, trying to find a new way to settle himself in the moving wagon. “These wagons are great for moving a ton of stuff, but they sure aren’t comfortable, and this cat has been complaining through our link non-stop about it.”

<I am not complaining,> my familiar replied grumpily, letting out a loud croak of disapproval toward me. <I just cannot easily return to sleep while the world moves around me.>

“It’s definitely not the best ride, but it beats running hands-down though,” Drace chimed in, chuckling at Amaranth’s obvious displeasure. “Then we’d be exhausted and sweaty instead.”

“There is that,” I agreed wistfully, our conversation temporarily lapsing as we stared out towards the rapidly growing defenses.

Appearing similar to the defenses that we’d built in Aldford ages earlier, Valor’s Point was a display of what could be achieved with enough shovels, time, and determination. Set on top of the hill separating it from the plains, the rear of the base was bordered by a thick earthen wall, complete with a deep ditch cut out before it. Yet where we in Aldford had to make do with flat land and a surging river nearby when building our defenses, the hillfort found itself instead blessed with only stone protruding from the ground, which we had readily incorporated into our plans. The result had given birth to a near-seamless blend of earthwork and natural stone that I knew would frustrate any attacker’s attempt to assault.

Traveling closer to the base, my eyes landed on a large wooden bridge that spanned the trench that we’d dug, providing entrance into the place. Designed to be removed and pulled into the camp itself during an attack, the bridge ensured that should any force somehow manage to get behind the base that they simply wouldn’t be able to walk in uncontested. Set just past the bridge, I saw a pair of waiting sentries already waving in our direction, no doubt having seen our caravan’s approach and signaling to the others in the base for our arrival.

Once through the defenses, we were greeted by a steady stream of activity happening all around us as our driver led our wagon down the main road that bisected the camp. As we moved, I caught glimpses of several other adventurers and NPCs all around us, all occupied in a variety of tasks. Glancing around, I could see a handful of workers busy at a pair of portable forges at the rear of the base, while another group nearby drilled relentlessly in a small training circle set aside for that purpose. Those that weren’t occupied in either of the two tasks were busily carting supplies and tools to various parts of the base around us. Blurring past us, well beyond the various moving shapes, were a pair of rough wooden buildings, surrounded by a collection of tents, all neatly clustered into a single portion of the base that served as a communal sleeping and eating area.

It’s only been a few days, and I hardly even recognize the place now, I thought as I took in the sight around us, comparing it to what I last remembered seeing. Moving quickly, it wasn’t long after that before our wagon reached a large open square that served as an unloading area and came to a stop, the other vehicles behind us following suit.

“And here we are,” I announced as we all moved to disembark, Amaranth, in particular, wasting no time at all in jumping off and back onto the ground, his mental voice filling my mind.

<Finally, I may touch paw to dirt again!> he exclaimed in a relieved tone as he leaped free from the transport. <I was beginning to think that our journey would never end!>

<So you told me,> I replied to the cat dryly as I followed him to the ground. <I told you we would get here eventually.>

<I know not how long this ‘eventually’ is as you two legs measure it, but it was too long a time to endure,> Amaranth replied, flashing me a brief glare with his azure eyes before turning to look back towards the base around us. <Next time, I will travel on my own paws. Then at least I might be able to hunt something as well.>

<Fair enough,> I said to my familiar, offering him a smile before turning back towards the wagon, hearing the others finish climbing out from the vehicle behind.

“All right!” I exclaimed with an eager clap of my hands as I finished my turn, glancing at the group. “Let’s see if we can’t get all of these wagons unloaded and the base ready for our coming guests.

“It’s time we showed them what it really means to have Aldford go to war.”

Chapter 23

Tuesday, April 16th, 2047 – 7:36 p.m.

Valor’s Point

“And there they are,” I announced in a soft voice as I looked out over the sprawling plains ahead, seeing the beginnings of a dark mass forming on the distant horizon. “Right on time, more or less.”

“So they are,” Aldwin’s voice replied from beside me, a brief silence falling before he continued to speak. “After the war ended, I thought I would never see such a sight again in my life. It seems that my hopes were too much for the world.”

“And mine too,” Veronia added in a whisper as the three of us watched the distant blot gradually grow larger in the distance, the setting sun to the west casting them all as a shadow on the plains’ edge. After four long days of anticipation, the orcs had finally arrived within eyesight of Valor’s Point, their unstoppable advance having finally taken them to the far edge of the plains.

But not any farther, I resolved silently as I shifted my attention away from the scene ahead, taking the opportunity to look towards the others around me.

Activity had all but stopped when the sentry’s call of the orc army appearing on the horizon had echoed out, causing everyone to rush to the nearest vantage point and look. As a result, the place had fallen almost completely silent as if the whole base had collectively decided to hold its breath in anticipation of what we all knew was coming. Scanning the expressions of those nearby as they stared out at the growing horde in the distance, I was greeted by signs of nervousness and fear written across their faces. Given the circumstances that had led us here and what we knew the future held for us, they were emotions I could full well understand.

Because I felt them too.

But as I looked past the surface of those around me, I also saw the determination and courage beneath their facial expressions, along with the hope and drive that had brought us here to this moment. From our first few days in Aldford dealing with the spiders in the Webwood followed by Graves and the goblins, to desperately trying to find a way to fix the ley line beneath the town before it destroyed everything around us, we had all faced long odds and had prevailed against them time and time again.

This time was going to be no different.

“Well, we see now what we’re dealing with,” I announced in a loud voice. “Now let’s make sure we’re ready to do something about it when they finally arrive.”

Just enough to break the brief spell that had fallen over everyone, sound began to return to the base, first faint as voices talking amongst themselves, then again once more in the form of movement as everyone returned to work. As it did, so did the three of us then resume walking, our tour of the base having been interrupted by the orcs’ distant appearance.

“Well done, Lyrian,” Aldwin said to me in a quiet voice as we walked. “That was exactly what everyone needed to see and hear from you in that moment. They draw strength from seeing their leaders calm and collected.”

“Even when we feel anything but,” Veronia added softly. “It is a polite fiction played between both parties, but it is a critical one for morale.”

“So you both told me,” I replied in a matching volume, despite turning to smile and nod at a group of passing adventurers.

Much like the days that preceded it, the last day and a half since my arrival at Valor’s Point had been a busy one. From the moment that I’d arrived, I’d made sure to hit the ground running, doing my best to ensure that the base was ready for the orcs’ arrival. From emplacing our siege weaponry to further fortifying our defenses through digging to crafting what items I could in the field, I’d made sure to keep myself as busy and useful as possible.

Apparently too useful and busy, to the point where I was starting to unnerve everyone around me—at least, according to Aldwin and Veronia.

Arriving around mid-afternoon today with another shipment of supplies and workers from Aldford, the pair had moved to find me almost immediately afterward, sitting me down for what they called an important lesson in leadership. Supposedly, on the eve of a large battle, such as the one looming ahead, the last thing that people liked to see was one of their leaders working at a breakneck pace as if they were fighting time itself. According to them, it tended to make people feel worried that they weren’t prepared for what was coming next—that worry often blooming into outright anxiety and even fear. As such, both Aldwin and Veronia told me in no uncertain terms to put my tools down and make myself scarce for a few hours before returning to walk the base as calmly as possible.

This was what we were doing now, trying to show everyone that while a vast army of orcs was bearing down on them, that their leaders, specifically me, were confident of their chances to prevail.

Walking at a steady, if almost leisurely pace, the three of us slowly made our rounds through Valor’s Point, making sure that we were seen by as many as possible, even stopping on occasion to talk with those we saw. As we did, we were able to see that all of the preparations around the base were proceeding perfectly with supplies ending up where they needed to be and everyone understanding what their responsibilities were. We even saw more familiar faces from Aldford along the way, with Shelia and her assistants assuming their traditional role as medical support throughout the base. Past her, we also briefly met up with both Jenkins and Ritt, the pair dividing the role of quartermaster between them and making sure that no one went without the supplies or equipment they needed.

Continuing onwards, our path led us back to the uppermost levels of the hillfort where we paused briefly to look over a row of ballistae and their crews while both Natasha and Bax ran them through a series of drills to ensure their readiness. From the vantage point at the top of the hill, the weapons could theoretically hit targets as far away as half a kilometer, if not more, but at a great cost in accuracy. Instead, they would be most useful at roughly half that distance, laying down what we expected would be a withering line of fire for the orcs and their constructs to charge through.

Eventually, the tour came to an end as we finished our informal walkabout of the base, the three of us making our way back to a large tent that had been set up to serve as our command hub. Now that the orcs had finally arrived, it was time for us to finalize our plans for the inevitable battle ahead.

“All right, I think we can get this meeting going,” I announced as I glanced around the tent, seeing the core of Aldford’s leadership looking back at me from around a long table that had been brought into the place.

Standing on either side of me at one end of the table were both Freya and Drace, with the other side directly across from us being occupied by Halcyon, Donovan, and surprisingly enough, Stanton. Refusing to stay put and take shelter in Aldford while we all fought, the old spy had joined us of his own accord to aid in our defense against the orcs. Rounding out the other two sides were Aldwin, Veronia, and lastly Cassius, who was busily placing markers on a rough map of the plains that had been laid across the table’s surface.

“Which means that you’re up first here, Cassius,” I said. “What can you tell us about the orcs so far?”

“Not a lot yet, unfortunately,” the man replied as he laid a final pair of markers down and waved a hand towards the map which now outlined the orcs’ disposition. “At least not when it comes to detail. I’m adjusting this as I get reports in from the field, but we’re dealing with a lot of the same since we found them. They have an aggressive picket line set out a fair distance away from the bulk of their army, and it’s going to take a bit of time to crack it and get information back here. Of course, assuming that we can at all. We’ve already had a handful of scouts take the express route back here.”

“Ouch,” I replied as a collective wince passed over everyone gathered at the table. “Hopefully, they’ll at least be able to recover their soul fragments before things get really dicey.”

“Hopefully,” Cassius replied, though his tone held a hint of doubt in it. “Anyway, despite that, so far we haven’t seen any signs of the orcs moving forces towards either the Greenwood or the Hartwyld. At least not beyond a few token scouting parties on either side to ensure that we’re not trying to hide something there.”

“Judging by that, there’s little doubt in my mind that they know making any sort of approach through either of the forests to try and flank us would be a bad idea, given the rough terrain and roundabout route they’d need to take. Maybe if this war drags on, they’ll look to sneak people around us and harass us from behind, but right now, they seem content to hunker down first.”

“Which is more than fine with us,” Freya replied in a tired voice, giving the man a nod as she spoke. “We’ve spent the last fourteen hours, if not longer, skirmishing with them as they marched across the plains. If they didn’t need a break after a day like that, then we’d really be in trouble.”

“Without a doubt,” Cassius agreed, before going on to finish his report. “Anyway, past those general notes and what you see here, there isn’t much else to report on my end for the time being. Once the orcs are properly settled in for the night and the scouts can creep in a bit closer, we might be able to learn more, but until then, we’re playing the waiting game.”

“That’s fine,” Drace replied to the man. “And the longer the orcs want to play that game, the better it gets for us. So, I have no intention at all of rushing them if they want to sit pretty for the entire night.”

“Me either,” Freya agreed, turning to nod towards the half-giant. But before she could say anything else, it was Halcyon that spoke up, the mage sounding a little anxious as he did so.

“Uh, well, I think this would maybe be a good time to mention that the three of us don’t think that they’re exactly sitting pretty as you put it,” he said, his eyes shifting over towards me as he spoke. “At least not all of them.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, noticing that both Donovan and Stanton had also turned to look in my direction along with Halcyon.

“We believe that the orcs might be attempting to scry us,” Donovan said in a cautious tone. “Or…are perhaps attempting something else that is causing the wards that we have set up around the base to flicker. The magic they are using is…strange.”

“Well, that sounds exactly just what we need before a battle,” I replied, glancing between the three mages with an inquisitive look. “What exactly does ‘strange’ mean? Is it something that we need to be worrying about?”

“I am afraid we’re not certain,” Stanton answered, the man shaking his head as he spoke. “Whatever the orcs are attempting to do, it does not match anything we’ve seen them do before during the war. All that we are able to see through the ætherscopes are faint echoes of magic where something has touched our wards, yet we cannot trace it back to any source that might have caused it.”

“I see,” I replied, pausing to process the trio’s information. Unfortunately, while I knew little when it came to wardmaking, that particular line of spells being completely restricted to mages, I knew enough about the ætherscopes to know that what the three of them were describing was indeed unusual. To not be able to see what was touching the wards meant that whatever was doing it was either too faint to detect or entirely non-magical in nature. “Is it causing any problems with the wards for the moment?”

“No, not right now,” Halcyon said, shaking his head. “Whatever the orcs are doing, it’s gentle for the time being, though I imagine that could change at the drop of a hat.”

“Well, let us know if it does,” I replied, seeing a series of nods pass between the three mages. “And once we’re done here, I’ll come with you all and take a look at the wards with an ætherscope myself. Maybe my ætherwarping will come in handy, and I’ll be able to see something that’ll help.”

“It would be appreciated,” Donovan said, inclining his head towards me. “It seems that whatever collection of tribes that we’ve found arrayed against us have strayed quite far from what we’ve come to expect from orcs. First, in these abominable constructs that they now field, and then second in whatever magic they work against us. So I am afraid we will be at a disadvantage until we can fully gain a measure of understanding of what we face and devise ways of how best to combat it.”

“Is that something unusual?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mage’s statement. “I mean, for these orcs to be different from the ones that you all fought during the war. It’s been a year, if not longer, since it ended; they were bound to learn some new tricks in that time.”

“If it were just the magic itself, I would be tempted to agree with you, Lyrian,” Donovan replied, both he and Stanton shaking their heads at my question. “The orcs are far from unintelligent and constantly seek to improve their understanding of the various magical arts. But what is truly strange is their use of these constructs and this corrupting magic to augment their forces. Never before have they done such a thing in all the years that we warred against one another.”

“So you’ve all said before,” Freya commented, the point having indeed been raised shortly after our encounter with the corrupted guardians at the Dread Crew camp but falling by the wayside as the war resumed and we all went our separate ways. “But we never actually got an explanation of why that was unusual. It seems like the constructs alone would be a great way for the orcs to augment their forces. The Nafarr certainly did. They had that sentinel golem we had to fight trapped within their ruins.”

“When approached from the perspective of logic, it certainly would,” Aldwin agreed, the old knight reaching up to run his fingers through his beard as he spoke. “However, the orcs do not share that perspective, at least not on a cultural level. I know I have spoken about this to some of you over the last few days, but for those who I haven’t, the orcs’ entire way of life revolves around war and the personal glory gained through it. They revel in the chance to prove their individual strength and dominance over their enemies in battle and gain status both for and in their tribes for doing so.

“For them to resort to something exterior of themselves, such as these monstrous constructs or the debilitating magic they have crafted to aid them in battle, represents a great shift in their thinking and culture that we have not seen before.”

“Which could very well be because you broke their culture when you chased them out of Eberia,” Drace stated. “A defeat like that after nearly forty years of straight war would likely prompt changes in their society’s thinking.”

“But clearly not enough to have them think twice about attacking us here,” Halcyon added dryly, prompting a series of snorts to go around the table.

“Perhaps,” Aldwin allowed, his gaze dropping towards the map and the various markers placed on top of it. “It is also possible that after their defeat that a new tribe rose to power in this region, effectively dominating the others through their use of this new magic and their constructs. It may not be a traditional version of orc strength, yet it is a display of strength, nonetheless—one that the other tribes with reduced numbers and fewer warriors would be forced to recognize or likely see themselves destroyed if they did not.”

“Are things really that vicious between the orcs?” Freya asked, a touch of disbelief coloring her voice. “I don’t doubt what you’re saying, but we didn’t see any disarray or infighting in their ranks over the last few days. If anything, it was the opposite.”

“No, you wouldn’t see anything of the sort when the orcs are on a march such as this,” Aldwin replied, shaking his head as he spoke. “Right now, the orcs stand unified together by the dominant tribe’s war chief, and their morale is strong. It would take a substantial defeat of the entire horde itself or the chieftain’s death for fractures to begin to appear. And even then that would only last until a new warlord seized power.”

“Then what does that mean for the battle ahead of us?” I asked, feeling extremely curious to know more about the orcs’ social structure. “Would it be possible for us to make a thrust straight towards this war chief and see if we could kill him?”

“If he makes an appearance?” the old knight qualified. “Absolutely. Though I highly doubt that they will make themselves visible so soon, for that in itself would make them look weak. Instead, I expect that they would allow for the other chieftains and tribes to compete against their own. The better that they perform compared to theirs, the more favor and status these other tribes would receive afterward.”

“That sounds…complicated,” Halcyon said as we all listened to Aldwin’s explanation with rapt attention.

“No more or less so than our own politics in Eberia,” Stanton replied. “Though their version is quite less subtle than the game played between the various noble houses.”

“Yet no less deadly, I imagine,” I stated, earning a slight nod from the spy.

“Certainly not,” Aldwin agreed. “In either case, beyond their politics, it is important to never forget how this tribal structure of theirs dictates the way they wage war. As tempting as it might be to think of the horde as a single unified military force, with similar skill sets, equipment, or even training, they are not. Instead, you must think of them each as their own groups of various skills and armament who happen to be sharing the same battlefield with one another.

“But instead of using their talents to complement one another as we would, they fight independently, looking to establish themselves as superior in both skill and glory. While this single-minded focus gives them a vicious ferocity in battle, it allows for them to be isolated and defeated, even when in the middle of mass combat, for rival tribes will never come to the rescue of another. They will wait for them to be defeated completely or flee the field before joining the battle on their own terms.”

“Hm, that’s really interesting to know and explains a few things that we saw while we tried to delay them,” Freya said once the bann had finished talking, all of our attention dropping towards the map. “We’ll need to take this thinking into account for the battle, though. Because while we might be able to destroy or rout entire units of orcs, it also means that we’ll be facing fresher troops constantly throughout the entire battle.”

“That it does,” Aldwin agreed as we all clustered a step closer to the table and began the process of planning out how we would array our forces throughout the base and what tactics we would to meet the orc assault. “So, given our advantage in positioning, our best options would be…”

Chapter 24

Wednesday, April 17th, 2047 – 7:02 a.m.

They attacked at dawn.

There was no ultimatum or even an attempt to parley between our two sides. Instead, the orcs simply began to move as the sun broke the eastern horizon, their purpose obvious to all of us watching from a distance. Beginning slowly at first, their ranks started to shuffle as the tribes within the horde arrayed themselves according to whatever their surprisingly complex internal politics demanded. With increasing speed, more and more orcs filtered forward from within the horde, their leading edge starting to advance towards us, the familiar hulking shapes of the corrupted constructs taking the place of the army’s vanguard.

Far from idle as we watched the orcs ready themselves, word of their movement made its way through the entirety of Valor’s Point, causing something akin to a sigh of relief to echo throughout the base. The waiting was finally over, and the battle was finally about to begin.

“Everyone’s reporting in ready, Lyr,” Sierra said as she calmly walked up to us at a measured pace, having just returned from a final walkthrough of the base while our core group formed up on a rise roughly in the center of the base. “The show will kick off as planned as soon as our guests reach their places.”

“Good,” I replied in a cheerful tone as I continued to watch the advancing line of constructs ahead, counting that there were at least forty of them advancing towards us in a staggered line. “Let’s hope that they’re entertained.”

“I think they will be, Lyr,” Constantine commented from beside me, his hand reaching up to point at the far-right portion of the orc vanguard. “Look, they’re starting to speed up. They can’t wait to get here already.”

“Huh, so they are,” I noted, shifting my attention to follow the rogue’s finger and seeing that a group of the constructs, all corrupted guardians specifically, had broken into a lumbering run, gradually outpacing the slimmer dervishes. Lagging a few seconds behind that group were the larger constructs, whatever command that had signaled the charge taking its time to work through the ranks.

Saying nothing as we watched, the eight of us simply stared onwards as the line of constructs descended down upon us with the orc horde following a few dozen yards behind. There was little doubt that the charge had been designed to intimidate and unnerve us by making us focus on the monstrous creatures first, and it would have worked, had we not had an ace hidden up our sleeve. Having waited until this very moment to reveal that we had a way to bypass the constructs’ damage reduction, we’d been able to outfit not only everyone with an arcane-edged weapon but also the bolts used by our ballistae.

As the advancing line of corrupted guardians painfully found out.

Thundering out as one perfectly timed snap the instant they entered into range, sixteen fast-moving shapes suddenly leapt out from all around us, their path taking them directly into the mass of charging creatures ahead, which promptly withered under its onslaught. In an instant, I saw five of the leading abominations go down as perfectly aimed bolts slammed into their center mass and continued straight through, or even in one case, a shrouded skull, the impact shattering it completely. Where the bolts did not completely outright kill the target they hit, they staggered them, punching large holes through their muddy exterior and causing the spirits animating them to scream with agony. In the seconds that passed afterward, the entire orc charge slowed as a wave of surprise passed through their ranks.

Which, of course, was right when the catapults fired.

Launching in unison just as the ballistae had, I looked upwards in time to see eight large orbs sail high overhead, their spinning metallic forms glittering faintly in the light of the rising sun. Reaching their peak quickly, it didn’t take long before the orbs began to fall back towards the ground, their target being the small space directly between the advancing orcs and their constructs. Vanishing from sight as they descended out of view, there was a brief delay where nothing happened, followed by a sudden spray of distant metallic shapes shooting upwards and in every direction. Far too distant to see their reaction from my position, I could only imagine the orcs’ reaction as their shock of seeing the constructs fall to the ground was compounded by the arrival of hundreds of caltrops being strewn directly in their path.

Which, on that note, reminds me to never get onto Léandre’s bad side, I thought, recalling the elder craftsman’s devious look when he first explained to me the concept of the weapon. Consisting of a hollow iron shell packed completely full of the four-pointed metal stars, it was designed to be fired by a catapult towards a distant target. Then, when the heavy object landed, the impact caused its shell to come apart, which with the aid of a few strategically placed springs sent a cloud of caltrops flying in every direction, seeding the surrounding area with their presence.

“Well, they know that we’re serious now,” I commented as secondary waves of magic and arrows also lanced out on the heels of the two siege engines’ attacks, further blanketing the oncoming charge with a storm of destruction.

“I sure hope so,” Freya replied as, despite the success of our initial salvo ravaging the constructs’ ranks, they continued to press towards us, the distance between them and our forwardmost trenches gradually decreasing with every second that passed. “I’d sure hate for all of the work that we’ve done to be for nothing.”

“That would be tragic,” I agreed, all of us continuing to watch the conflict unfold, there being little for us to do, other than wait for our enemies to come into range. Right now, the early stages of the battle were our best chance to deal as much damage as possible to the orc horde before things devolved into chaos.

And the orcs started to spring their own tricks on us.

So we watched onwards as another loud twang of ballista bolts echoed through the air just as the leading edge of corrupted guardians finally reached our front line, plowing straight into the tribuli-filled trenches. Aided by momentum, the creatures attempted to use their innate resistance to damage to blaze a path through the spike-filled pits for their allies to follow through. But no sooner did they make it halfway into the trenches, did some of them come to a lurching stop, letting out a pained howl as they did so. Having expected the creatures to simply bull through the tribuli and spike-filled pits and trample them to pieces, we’d taken steps to hide dozens of arcane-edged spears amongst them. So that when the constructs attempted to bowl their way through the trenches with sheer brute force, they also impaled themselves on the one thing that their defenses had no answer for.

“And there goes our last surprise,” Constantine stated as a handful of the charging guardians were stopped cold in their attempt to force a path to the front line, their struggles lasting just long enough for the mages and archers to turn their attention onto them. “Now things are going to really get down and dirty.”

“You’re not wrong on that front!” Halcyon called out, something in his tone prompting me to look in his direction and see that he was staring upwards with ætherscope in his hand. “The wards are starting to light up! Looks like the orcs are tired of watching us wreck their charge and are starting to hit them hard!”

“With what?” I asked, reaching out to grab my own wand from a pocket, activating True Sight as I did so. Ever since their arrival yesterday, and for nearly the entirety of the night that followed, the orcs had relentlessly probed the base’s magical defenses, sending strange phantoms rippling along its surface, which despite our best efforts we couldn’t identify. Even my enhanced sight wasn’t able to catch sight of whatever the orcs were attempting, at least not anything more than vague flickers in the ward’s magic.

“I don’t know, but—” Halcyon started to say, only to have his eyes go completely wide as a brief flash of magic filled the air above us. “Shit! The wards are down!”

Following almost right on the heels of the mage’s words, I had just enough time to process what he had said before an alien wave of exhaustion unexpectedly slammed into me, causing my entire body to flinch and feel heavier. Fighting down the unexpected sensation that surged through me, I forced myself not to react to the surge of panic that shot through me, instead focusing on the burning red text that flashed in the center of my vision.

You have been afflicted by [War Hex: Weakness]!

Cursed by an exhausting magic, your muscles and mind have grown sluggish and heavy, reducing your ability to fight. Effect: Your Agility, Strength, Willpower, and Attack Speed have been reduced by 5%!

“Well, that looks like that answers that question!” Drace said with a growl as he tried to shake off the magical fatigue that had fallen over us. “They were trying to debuff the entire base!”

“Damn it, this is the last thing we need!” I cursed while scanning the base around us, seeing that all the other nearby adventurers were reacting in a similar fashion as us to the orcs’ magic. “Can you somehow use the wards to block this, Hal? Even if it’s for a short while.”

“Only by recasting all of them again around the base,” the mage replied as he cast a spell that I couldn’t make out, his scowl growing deeper. “The orcs hammered them completely flat and overloaded them. I’d need to start completely from—”

A loud scream interrupted Halcyon before he could finish speaking, its panicked words causing a chill to instantly shoot down our backs.

“Invaders in the base!” Bax’s voice shouted from nearby, similar cries ringing out all around us a second later. “There are spirits attacking the ballistae! We need help!”

Twisting as one to the sound of the voice, we all glanced towards the two ballistae that had been arrayed on our left, our eyes widening in shock immediately after. Crawling all over the machines, were over a dozen ethereal shapes, each of them seemingly cut from pure darkness itself as they attacked Bax, Natasha, and their crew manning the siege weapons. Staring in disbelief at their unexpected appearance, it wasn’t until several tags appeared in my vision pointing to each of the spirits that they were in fact animals, ones that had mutated almost past the point of recognition.

[Corrupted Beetle Spirit] – Level 23

[Corrupted Viper Spirit] – Level 24

[Corrupted Bear Spirit] – Level 25

[Corrupted Puma Spirit] – Level 25

“Shit! They’re trying to take out our ranged attackers!” Constantine called out, all of us seeing through the orc strategy as even more of the shadowlike entities continued to appear throughout the base, their focus being either our siege weapons or our mages and archers. “Damn, where did these things even come from?”

“Hell if I know, but we don’t have time to stand around! The orcs are going to be here any second now!” I replied as I pulled my eyes away from the sudden chaos growing throughout the base and towards the trenches, noticing that the first of the constructs had almost made it completely through. “We need to get them cleared away from the ballistae and have them firing again! Or all those guardians are going to steamroll our front line!”

Trusting that the group would follow me, I sprang into action and began to move, calling up a surge of magic as I did so and shaping it into Blink Step. Eagerly triggering the spell the second that it was ready, the next thing I knew was the world blurring around me as Amaranth and I crossed the distance separating us and the nearest line of ballistae in the blink of an eye.

And directly into the midst of the swarming spirits around it.

Arriving with a snap of magic announcing our presence, we found ourselves greeted by a trio of the corrupted spirits already spinning to attack us. Surprised by their fast reaction, I was forced to dodge away from a lunging beetle spirit while using Splinter to send a threatening cut in the direction of a coiled viper spirit in order to keep it at bay. As I managed the two creatures, Amaranth focused on the third, one of his claws raking itself across a near mirror of himself and leaving a jagged tear along its ethereal form.

<What are these twisted beings?> my familiar demanded as he squared off with the corrupted puma that he had injured, the creature hissing back angrily at him and retaliating with its own attack. <Their very presence causes my fur to stand on edge! They are not natural!>

<I have no idea!> I replied to the cat as I took a step back, narrowly evading a bite from the near seven-foot-long ethereal viper as it launched itself through the air towards me. <But they all remind me of the same spirits that are animating the orcs’ constructs! >

<Hrm, so they do,> Amaranth replied with a mental growl as we squared off with our opponents, the next few seconds passing by in a blur of ethereal claws and teeth.

It wasn’t until the spirit beetle managed to land a bite on my forearm that I was pulled back into the present by two twisting sensations competing with one another. The first was a burning lance shooting through my arm as a portion of my mana was torn away from me and drawn into the attacking spirit. Yet as fast as the searing pain had hit me, I felt something else force itself into my body, causing an all-too-familiar wave of nausea to send my stomach roiling.

Ugh, not this again, I said with a mental wince, belatedly bringing Splinter to defend myself and slashing the Shocking Touch-charged blade directly through the head of the offending spirit, the blow finally managing to kill it. Watching it dissolve in a burst of darkness, I found myself with a brief opportunity to glance at my combat log just to make sense of what had happened, my hunger flaring and then settling itself as I read.

A [Corrupted Beetle Spirit] hits you for 87 points of damage!

A [Corrupted Beetle Spirit] drains you for 50 points of mana!

You have been afflicted by [Corruption]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 1%!

Your [Hunger] devours [Corruption], restoring 50 points of mana!

Your Corruption Counter has decreased to 0%.

You [Power Attack II] a [Corrupted Beetle Spirit] for 137 points of damage!

You have slain a [Corrupted Beetle Spirit]!

Damn it, this is bad! I thought as I finished skimming over the log, promptly dismissing it afterward and jumping back into the battle with the other two spirits. As I did, I felt my mind begin to race as I processed what I’d read. Whatever these things are, they can both drain mana and afflict others with the corruption that they’re carrying. It’s only because of my ætherwarping that I’m able to absorb it and have it not affect me. But everyone else on the other hand…

Feeling a newfound sense of urgency shoot through me as my thoughts trailed off, I redoubled my efforts in attacking the two remaining corrupted spirits, triggering Alacrity to give Amaranth and me a needed edge. Working from there, we unceremoniously carved through the pair of spirits, dispatching them both just in time to have the rest of the group arrive around us.

“Be careful! These things can spread corruption!” I announced as I fell into line with them, the eight of us rushing towards the other spirits attacking the ballista crew. “And they drain your mana too when they hit you!”

“Well, that’s just great!” Halcyon shouted from somewhere behind me as a group of six spirits rushed forward to greet us. “What mana they don’t steal from me, I’ll have to burn in order to kill them!”

“I think that’s the whole point!” I called out as I cast Flameburst towards the charging group of spirits, taking care to angle the attack carefully so I didn’t accidentally set the ballistae behind them on fire. “Come on! We’re running out of time!”

Attacking without any semblance of strategy or coordination, the rushing wave of spirits simply attempted to swarm over us as our two lines met, seemingly more concerned with inflicting what damage they could rather than to try and kill us outright. It was certainly a viable tactic given the corruption they bore, its effects gradually building with every hit that they landed. But also, one that they simply lacked in numbers and strength to execute with great effect, their six easily outmatched by our eight, allowing us to carve through them with only a handful of scratches between us. With those out of the way, it was nothing for us to rush forward to aid the two ballistae crews to dispatch the remaining spirits attacking them.

Yet despite our relative ease in killing the spirits, they had managed to take their toll on the siege crew, leaving almost all of them with thin black lines running across their arms and face.

“Ugh, I don’t feel so good,” Natasha, groaned after the last of the corrupted spirits had fallen, her hand reaching up to clench her head. “What the hell did those…things do to us? I think I am going to be sick.”

“They poisoned you with their magic,” I replied as I glanced towards the elf, seeing a large stain of corruption stretching across her face and arm. “You’re going to feel awful for the next day or two, but it should eventually—”

A loud explosion of magic from elsewhere on the battlefield suddenly drowned out my words, causing all of us to flinch as we spun towards it. Coming directly from the front lines, it took us a second to find its source, our eyes landing on a column of smoke and fire that now rose from a fresh crater directly where a portion of our trenches had been. But no sooner did we finish our turn, did a swarm of fireballs shoot out from within the orc army and hit another part of the trench, their collective might incinerating another portion of our defenses.

“Damn!” Constantine called out as we watched. “It looks like the orcs are done playing around! We can’t take more hits like that or they’ll just swarm us!”

“They’re doing that already!” Freya replied as a group of six corrupted guardians finally reached the edge of the far trenches with another six not far behind them. “We need to get down there and help the front hold until the ballistae are firing again!”

“Go then! I’ll catch up in a second!” I called out, watching everyone do just that and charge towards the front lines as I turned to glance at both Bax and Natasha. “Are you all still able to fight?”

“Until our dying breath,” the man answered as his head shifted towards me, the streak of corruption that now covered part of his face doing nothing to hinder the steely determination that it held.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said, my hand coming up to point in the direction of where I’d seen the magic that had obliterated a portion of our line come from. “What I’m going to need you all to do is make sure those orc casters we just saw don’t have a chance to hit us like that again. Not without consequences.”

“We can do that!” he exclaimed confidently, his gaze moving towards his crew. “Right, people?”

“Right!” a disembodied roar answered him as the siege crew promptly rushed to reload the two machines.

“Good,” I replied, giving both him and Natasha a nod. “Good luck.”

Then with that, I moved to follow the others in rushing towards the front line, Amaranth effortlessly keeping pace beside me. So far both of our sides had been able to get their surprises in, each of them taking their toll amongst the two armies. But as we each adjusted and reacted to one another, the window for dirty tricks and clever maneuvers gradually shrank until it finally came to a close.

Now the real battle was about to begin.

Chapter 25

I brought Splinter in a hard parry, the jagged blade rushing forward to meet the sweeping sword arm of the corrupted dervish before me. Connecting solidly, I felt the impact of the blow shoot up my arm as they touched, Alacrity’s effects allowing me to process the battle instant by instant. Gritting my teeth, I pushed against the blade for what felt like an eternity before it came to a stop, but in reality, it had been little more than a second.

Then, without so much as a pause, I slid the blade downwards and off the now-frozen appendage, directing the sword towards a second razor-sharp limb slashing through the air. This one I knew I had no chance to block, the construct’s powerful backhand threatening to disembowel me completely should I let it finish its sweeping arc. So, instead, I deflected it, bringing Splinter down and hitting the arm just hard enough to change its trajectory, sending it flying harmlessly past me—and directly into the neck of an orc that had been moving to join our exchange.

Tough luck for you, buddy, I thought as I saw the dervish’s now off-course sword arm catch the orc just below the chin and practically decapitate it, causing the hapless warrior to begin to fall as a spray of blood misted the air. You should have picked a less dangerous fight to try and join.

But as the dervish completed its deadly swing, I didn’t wait to see the results, my mind already dismissing the now dying orc as quickly as he had appeared. Instead, it had already shifted back towards the construct as my feet dug into the ground, propelling me directly into its now exposed guard. Raising Splinter upwards, I saw the world around me blur as I lunged forward, Alacrity’s effects causing everything around me to ripple in slow motion, save for the dervish’s chest which remained fixated in the center of my vision.

It was an instant later that I was thrusting the azure blade directly into the construct’s body, sparks of electricity beginning to dance across its edges as I channeled a surge of magic into the weapon. Effortlessly piercing through the gray-black mud that armored the creature, Splinter sank in nearly a full inch before it encountered resistance in the form of the knotted root cocoon housed within the construct’s body. But despite its best efforts, that resistance only served to slow the sword’s passage ever so slightly as I’d put my full weight behind the thrust, its edge biting straight through the offending barrier and continuing past them.

Straight into the hapless victim trapped within.

Breathing a silent apology as I completed the thrust, I discharged the Shocking Touch that I’d held in Splinter’s blade, sending the magic shooting from it, electrifying everything in its path. Staggering from the mortal wound, the spirit animating the corrupted dervish abruptly changed its keening cry as it tried to pull itself free of my weapon and attack me, its voice warbling audibly in pain. But no sooner did it begin to move, so did I, twisting and pulling my sword free of its body as I dodged out of the way of a sweeping sword arm. Rolling under the attack, I easily escaped the reach of the wounded construct, turning to face it as I pushed myself back up to my feet.

As I did, my eyes immediately went to the gushing wave of red-black blood that now poured out from the abomination’s chest, staining its front completely within a matter of seconds. Swaying unsteadily on its feet as its agonized cry continued to fill the air, the dervish made to resume its attacks on me once more, raising its twin sword arms threateningly. But as it tried to take a step forward, its balance suddenly gave out, and it promptly fell to the ground with a heavy crash, the mud covering its body beginning to melt and thin a moment later.

“Thanks for the assist there, Lyrian!” Helix’s voice called out in a slightly distorted tone as the dervish died, causing me to glance over at its source and seeing the blood-covered lizardman rushing towards me with both Myr, Cadmus, and Amaranth by his side. “We managed to get all the others that broke through.”

“Good,” I replied with a sigh of relief as I let go of Alacrity, the world snapping back to its regular speed as the hasting magic faded away. “Let’s get back to it then.”

“Sure thing, Lyr,” Helix replied as he and the others came to a stop, the lizardman’s eyes glancing downwards towards my body. “Just let me take care of your leg first.”

“My leg?” I asked, momentarily confused as the man stepped closer to place a glowing hand on my thigh, right where a large wound that I didn’t even recall getting freely bled, coating it with a bright crimson stain. “Oh, right. Thanks.”

“No problem,” the arakissi replied with a shake of his head as he continued to pour healing magic into me, giving me a chance to appreciate just how many other bruises and injuries I’d managed to acquire over the last few minutes of battle.

And how much had happened, too, both adrenaline and the aftereffects of Alacrity causing my mind to turn everything into one big blur.

After our timely rescue of the ballistae teams from the corrupted spirits, we had all rushed to meet the orcs’ vanguard as the first of their constructs broke through the trenches and plunged into our front line. Answering their arrival with a storm of magic and arcane-edged weaponry, the abominations quickly fell to our efforts, the damage that they had suffered in their journey to reach us weakening them greatly. Yet despite that, their presence served an important purpose for the orc assault, forcing us to pay attention and deal with them as their companions continued to close the distance behind them. It was then, when the second wave of guardians arrived, that we were forced to deal with fresher, less injured versions of the constructs, the same process repeating itself once again, except this time taking just a little bit longer.

But as the battle continued to escalate, our temporary stalemate didn’t last, the arrival of the corrupted dervishes and orcs themselves causing our lines to fragment as we were forced to give ground. Seizing on that opportunity as we reorganized ourselves, they pressed us even harder where our defenses were weakest, managing to slip a handful of constructs and orcs behind our reforming lines. Forced to react to their presence before they could wreak havoc on our rear, several others and I had broken away from the main group in order to take care of them.

But not without cost.

There’s no sign of Abaddon, Zethus, or Alistair, I thought as I mentally checked raid sense, confirming my suspicions as I realized that the trio was currently on their way back to the front of the base, having respawned at its rear.

Potentially the greatest advantage that our side possessed was our ability to respawn almost instantly after dying while protecting the base, the only delay in getting back into the fight being the time that it took to physically run back to it. Of course, the typical death penalties still applied if one was killed by an NPC during the battle, though that in itself could be mitigated if the adventurer managed to recover their soul fragment quickly enough.

Yet as much as that benefitted us as defenders, it was still very much a double-edged sword, as it was possible for an adventurer to leave multiple soul fragments behind, should they find themselves dying again before recovering them. Worse still, if we were pushed back too far, it was entirely possible for us to find ourselves completely cut off from them. Which would force us to not only eat the experience debt incurred by the death penalty but likely end up giving more ground as death sickness took its toll on our ability to fight.

“All right, that should do it,” Helix said as he finished healing me, his head turning to glance at the battle that was raging a few dozen feet away from us, then back to me and the others. “Everyone good to get back in there?”

“We’re ready!” Cadmus replied eagerly, the lizardman clapping together the oversized metal claws that he wore on each hand and causing a loud metallic clang to ring out. Not needing to say anything else, the five of us turned and rushed back into the battle, instinctively gravitating towards where the fighting was heaviest.

Which also, as it turned out, happened to be the same place where both Freya and Drace were, the pair attempting to rally a section of the line that was visibly flagging under the orc assault.

“Five coming in on your left!” I called out as we joined the fight, the pair instantly sliding over to make room in the line for us to slot ourselves into. “The rear is clear again!”

“Good! And even better timing, Lyr!” Drace exclaimed in a loud voice as I fell in on his left along with Amaranth beside me, the two of us using our momentum to drive back a trio of orcs that had been threatening the half-giant. “They were pressing us damned hard; I thought they were going to break through!”

“Not if we can help it!” I shouted back to the warrior as I sent a cut towards the orc in front of me, managing to land a shallow slash across the back of its hand and causing the creature to hiss. Reacting quickly, I followed up the attack with a second, hoping to press my advantage while I still could. But as I stabbed out with Splinter, I found myself needing to abandon the attempt and shift my blade to knock away the orc’s sweeping sword, the blow coming faster than I’d expected.

From there, the exchange rapidly devolved into a blur that my active mind couldn’t follow, instinct and experience taking over as I fell back into the flow of combat. Flashing by me as if they were still images, I occasionally registered sharp details as they occurred, a close parry here, a narrow dodge there, a triumphant feeling as I saw my enemy go down, resignation when another took its place. It wasn’t until I heard Drace beating heavily on his shield that I was pulled out of my haze, his voice piercing through my mind.

“The orcs are breaking to retreat!” he called out in between the loud metallic clangs. “And the Dread Crew are finally coming in right behind them with more constructs, so tighten up the lines where you can! We’re just getting started!”

“Oh, that’s just great!” I heard Helix reply loud from somewhere on my left as I parried an attack from an orc in front of me and quickly riposted with a vicious slash across its face that caused it to howl with pain. “Figures they’d wait until we were softened up a bit to make an appearance!”

“Only because they know they can’t beat us otherwise!” Drace shouted back as he took advantage of the orc I’d just injured to deliver an overhanded chop with his axe directly into the side of its neck. Pulling it free an instant later in a spray of blood, he delivered a punishing kick directly into the middle of its chest, sending the dying creature sprawling as the rest of its companions broke away and fled. “But we’re not going to wait for them to come to us! We’re going to go to them and send them back to whatever sorry excuse of a hole they crawled out of! Now, everyone, forward!”

Answering the half-giant’s words with a roaring war cry, the next thing I knew, our entire line was surging ahead as we chased after the retreating orc line, using our newfound momentum to cut down any fleeing attackers we could catch. Advancing rapidly, we managed to regain a small portion of the ground that we’d been forced to cede from under the orcs’ initial assault before we slammed into the surprised ranks of the Dread Crew.

Having been forced to navigate their way through the retreating orcs, receiving a charge, even the partial one that we’d been able to muster, was the absolute last thing that they’d expected, allowing us to stop their advance completely cold. Taking advantage of the confusion that followed, Amaranth and I forced our way deep into the disorganized ranks, Drace, Freya, and the others on either side of me momentarily vanishing in the press of bodies. Trusting that they would be advancing along with me, the battle then turned into a blur as Amaranth and I slashed, bit, and stabbed at everything in front of us, sending more than few Dread Crew adventurers back to their bind point. Lasting for an unknown period of time, the chaos caused by our attack finally started to wane as our attackers eventually started to rally themselves, their ranks slowly organizing to present a united front against us. As they did, I saw a familiar face shove their way forward through the press of bodies ahead, prompting me to rush towards it. Spotting me an instant before I closed, my newfound opponent’s eyes instantly locked onto mine, followed shortly behind by vicious scowl crossing his face.

“Damn it! It figures if there’s something going to shit that it would be you in the thick of it!” Hido growled by way of greeting as he caught Splinter on both of his short swords, only to abruptly leap backward as a sweeping claw from Amaranth lashed out at him. “Whoa, what the hell, man? You armored your cat?!”

“It’s nice to see you again too, Hido,” I replied as we exchanged another set of attacks, my arm working hard to keep Splinter ahead of his twin blades. “And yeah! I figured it was time that he got his own set. Do you like it?”

“Not at the moment I sure fucking don’t!” the elf replied, a loud clang of metal on metal punctuating his words as one of his blades bounced off Amaranth’s armor harmlessly. “Though I have to admit, it does look pretty badass.”

“Thanks, man!” I replied in a falsely jovial tone as Amaranth and I pressed Hido back a pair of steps, the man giving ground until he fell in line with two other Dread Crew adventurers, who on seeing what was happening promptly joined our fight. “Anyway, I think it’s pretty funny to find you guys in the middle of all of this! I didn’t peg you all as the type to befriend orcs!”

“Oh, you know us, Lyrian,” Hido answered in an acidic tone, and he and his newfound allies lunged towards Amaranth and me, forcing us to divide our attention between the three of them. “We’re all just such friendly people here. We’d never pass up a chance to meet someone new.”

“Don’t I know it,” I said sarcastically as I moved Splinter through the air in a blur, deflecting a scything axe from one of the attackers, a male Tul’Shar, and sending it flying off course—enough so that it was completely out of position when Amaranth’s paw suddenly appeared, and he could do nothing but let out a yelp before it hit him directly in the face and sent him falling to ground.

Leaping onto the man with both claws outstretched, my familiar went onto savage the man, raking and biting him viciously as he pinned him to the ground with his weight. Eyes widening in surprise at Amaranth’s deadly pounce, self-preservation caught both Hido and his companion before they could even think of helping their fallen friend, the pair instinctively jumping backward and away from the giant cat. Yet as they finished their leap and landed back on their heels, they quickly realized their mistake, their movement having formed a small gap separating them from their ally.

A gap that I readily filled, moving to follow the pair and positioning myself between them and Amaranth.

“Anyway, speaking of friends,” I said in a conversational tone as I blocked an attack from both Hido and his partner, stopping them both in their tracks before they could reach their companion. “How has Ignis been doing the last little while? He was looking pretty rough the last time I saw him.”

“So I heard!” Hido exclaimed with a dark laugh, his attention flicking away from his fallen ally and up to my face. “That was great! Serves the arrogant prick right! I wish I’d been there to see it.”

“Does it now? That’s a pretty harsh thing to say about a friend!” I asked, a little surprised by the man’s reaction as the three of us exchanged another series of attacks.

Pressing me both at the same time, I had to work hard to stay ahead of the pair, deflecting a handful of probing strikes from Hido and the other Dread Crew adventurer. Knocking the adventurer’s sword out of the way first, I riposted with a sharp cut across his hand and wrist, a crackling arc of electricity accompanying the attack. Shifting back towards Hido as I drew my sword back towards me, I saw that he’d sent twin slashes at me, looking to take advantage of my divided attention. Catching the first easily, I managed to stop it in place with a hard parry before sliding my blade towards the second, which was angled for a low cut at my legs. But before I could reach it, Hido unexpectedly shifted its trajectory up towards my arm, allowing its tip to draw a line of blood across my inner forearm and earn a hiss from me.

“A friend?” Hido repeated with mock disbelief, his smile vanishing as I shook off the minor wound and Amaranth appeared back at my side, a smear of blood across his face signaling the fate of the fallen Tul’Shar. “Dude, you’ve met Ignis. Do you think he can be anyone’s friend? The guy is a pain in the ass all the time. You’re lucky you only get to deal with him occasionally.”

“Ah, that’s a good point I guess,” I replied as the both of us lunged forward to attack together once more, splitting our attention between our two targets. Closing the distance with Hido, I conjured a burning dagger in my free hand as I moved, seeing the man fall into a defensive stance, his eyes clearly wary of the flaming knife in my hand. “But if you’re having such a hard time in dealing with him, we’re offering a pretty good surrender package if you’re interested. Three square meals a day, clean bedding, peace and quiet. There’s even an upgrade option for a fresh start way the hell away from here with a clean slate if you’re interested too.”

“Oh, I know all about what your offering, Lyrian, the others have told us all about it,” the white-haired elf replied as he parried my attack, the both of us exchanging a quick flurry of blows as I worked to keep him on the defensive, all while making no motion with the dagger in my off-hand. As we battled, I was able to catch a glimpse of Amaranth out of the corner of my eye, seeing him fighting viciously with his opponent who already looked to be cradling what looked like a broken and bleeding arm. “But as annoying as Ignis might be, I’m going to have to give you a hard pass on that offer.”

“Dang, that’s a shame, man! Here I was hoping I could help a guy out,” I said, not having truly expected him to take my offer. Though to hear him confirm that they were still in contact with our prisoners was something I made a mental note of for later. “Though, I don’t suppose I could ask why?”

“Because I know what’s coming,” Hido replied in a soft, barely audible tone over the battle, all levity and banter instantly fading away from his voice and expression as a dark cloud came over his face. “And where I am right now is the safest place to be.”

Throwing himself forward as he finished speaking, the elf didn’t give me a chance to press him on what he’d said as I was forced to shift into a defensive stance of my own to stand up to his attacks. Escalating from there, the intensity of our fight ratcheted upwards as we shifted from testing one another’s defenses to actively trying to kill each other.

He’s gotten better, I thought as we squared off, Hido’s blades turning into a blur as he stabbed and slashed at me. It had been a while since we’d crossed paths in our battles on the plains, the man having disappeared at the same time as Carver. But whatever he’d been off doing in that time he certainly hadn’t neglected his skills, still managing to keep pace level wise with me, or at least close enough that the War Hex weakening me put us almost on equal footing.

At least when it came to physical combat.

Moving in one fluid motion, I finally made use of the burning dagger that I’d conjured earlier in the fight, throwing it forward almost lazily towards Hido, quickly casting a spell the instant that it left my hand.

Followed by two others in quick succession.

Taking hold of me first was Alacrity, the hasting magic causing the world around me to slow to a crawl, allowing me to watch as my dagger tumbled perfectly through the air, spinning once before it connected with a sweeping sword. The moment that it did so, it promptly dissolved into a harmless spray of fire and ash centered directly between Hido and me, doing little more than to create a brief cloud that temporarily obscured the other.

Which, of course, was what I’d been going for.

Continuing to extend my free hand after I’d thrown the dagger, it was right when the cloud was thickest that the second wave of magic finished forming, sending a burst of fire outward from my palm and shooting straight through it. Caught at point-blank range, there was nothing Hido could do as my Flameburst washed over him, bathing his face and chest with a short-lived blast of intense fire. Reacting to the flames, the man let out a yelp and tried to leap back in an attempt to escape the searing attack. Yet before he could fully do so, I finished casting my third and final spell, causing a long azure chain to suddenly shoot upwards from the ground and wrapped itself around one of his legs, fixing him in place.

Fighting the surge of hunger that rose up from within as I finished burning through a large chunk of my mana pool, I followed on the heels of my magic, bypassing Hido’s distracted guard and stabbing Splinter directly into his stomach. Piercing through his tattered hide armor easily, I thrust the azure blade deep into his body and quickly pulled it free, raising the blade for a killing blow before the elf could react. But as I slashed my blade towards his neck, a heavy jade spear suddenly shot in between us, catching Splinter on its edge. Hovering there for split second, I barely had the time to realize what had happened before I felt the weapon begin to push my blade away with surprising strength, prompting me to yank it back and glance towards its wielder. As I did, my eyes landed on a tall and heavily muscled orc accompanied by a bright crimson-hued wolf spirit and three large corrupted constructs.

Wait, that isn’t right, I thought as a surge of both familiarity and confusion shot through me, my gaze shooting upwards to glance at the orc’s face. How did he—

But before I could finish the thought, the massive orc broke into a wide smile, and a voice that I hadn’t heard in over a week filled my ears.

“Lyrian! There are you are!” Carver said as he swept his spear out to the side beside him, effortlessly slashing through the chains that held Hido in place and shattering them as if they were glass. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you!

“I hear you’ve been giving my boys and girls a hard time over the last few days.”

Chapter 26

“Oh, you know me, Carver, I just do my best,” I said, finally finding my tongue as Amaranth fell in beside me with a low growl, the Dread Crew adventurer he’d been fighting nowhere to be seen. “Now I don’t know if it’s because I haven’t seen you for a while, but you’re looking a bit different today. Did you get a haircut or something?”

“Something like that,” the man replied with a dark chuckle that made my hair stand on edge as he struck a pose for me, spreading his arms out so I could better see his new form. “Do you like it? I decided to go with something a little…extra.”

“Oh, it’s extra, all right,” I stated as I continued to take in his new appearance, the looming shapes of what I now saw to be two corrupted dervishes and a single corrupted guardian causing a pocket in the overall battle to form around us.

Starting most obviously with his height, Carver’s stature had been extended by easily nine or ten inches from what I last recalled, forcing me to look upwards in order to meet his eyes, the man now towering high over me. But whatever transformation he had undergone hadn’t stretched him out unnaturally but had rather filled out his body proportionally, leaving him broader and more muscular than before. So drastic was the transformation that he could almost be compared to either Drace or Abaddon in build and size, his body rippling with the promise of physical violence.

Yet the changes did not end there, with his trademark stag skull helmet and his tattered, blood-soaked hide armor that I’d grown used to seeing on him nowhere to be seen. In their place, he was now outfitted with a finely crafted suit of hide and bone armor that protected the vital points of his body while simultaneously leaving enough bare to enhance his physique. Completing the change was the spear that I’d seen just seconds earlier, its rough haft appearing to have been carved from the bone of an unknown creature before ending in a large, jagged length of jade. Long enough to serve as both a spearhead and a sword at the same time, the pale green stone glowed with an eerie light from within, casting a faint emerald shroud to hover around it.

He’s become more orcish somehow, I thought as I finished taking in Carver’s new appearance, realizing that whatever hints of his previous half-orc nature that there’d once been, it was now completely gone. Now he barely looked different than all of the other orcs that I’d seen throughout the battle so far, save for his size, which still left him notably larger than the others. Did he find a way to somehow…race change fully to an orc? Can that even happen?

“I’m so glad that you approve. I’d hate to think that all my effort was wasted,” Carver replied with an even larger grin, completely oblivious to the dozens of questions on my mind. “Yet speaking of wasted effort…”

As his words trailed off, Carver’s spear suddenly flared with golden light and began to move, the orc shortening his grip on the haft and bringing it forward. Seeing it slice through the air, I instinctively readied myself to receive an attack before realizing that the spear wasn’t directed towards me in the slightest, but rather at Hido. Standing just beside and behind the man, the singed elf was busy clutching his stomach right where I’d stabbed him an expression of pain on his face. Moving faster than the man could react, the flat of the spear hit him square in the chest with enough force to visibly wind him, the golden light around its head instantly discharging itself in what I recognized as a flash of healing magic.

“Go be useless somewhere else,” Carver said in a dismissive tone, finishing his statement as Hido staggered back from the impact with a loud grunt. “It’s time for me and the other grownups to play.”

“Oof! Ow!” The elf wheezed before letting out a loud cough from the blow, his blood-covered hand coming free from his stomach to touch his chest where the spear had hit him, the former no longer bleeding. “Uh, y-yeah, o-okay!”

Flashing me a look that contained a mixture of humiliation and anger, I saw Hido struggle not to say something else to Carver as he took a step away from the man, getting out of range of his spear. As he moved, however, his eyes abruptly shifted away from mine and onto something behind me, his expression turning to one of fear. Not wasting an instant afterward, he turned to rush into the press of bodies still fighting around us, disappearing from sight at the same time that a voice called out.

“Lyr! We saw the constructs—” Freya started to shout only to cut out abruptly as she, Drace, Helix, and the others appeared beside me. “—Wait, shit! Is that Carver?”

“In the flesh, my dear,” the man replied, flashing the woman with the same orcish smile he’d given me while bringing his spear and pointing it towards us. “And I’m glad that you could also be here for this, because it’s past time that we all had a little talk about what you lot have been up to for the last few days.”

Pausing to channel a brief wisp of dark magic from a hand, Carver, his familiar, and the three constructs surrounding him all then exploded into action, lunging towards us en masse. Crossing the distance separating us in a heartbeat, I was lucky enough to find Carver fixating on me first, his spear slashing out in a wide-sweeping cut. Reacting quickly as we all scattered, I dropped down under the attack and rolled to the side, narrowly evading the spear’s jade edge as it passed over me. Pushing off the ground with a hand as I completed my tumble, I righted myself back onto my feet and replied to Carver’s attack with one of my own, slashing the sword across his body. Yet no sooner did I send the blade in Carver’s direction, did the haft of his spear flick downward, catching Splinter on its flat edge and pushing it harmlessly out of the way.

“So, as I was saying,” Carver said in a conversational tone after we both exchanged our first set of blows and the constructs swarmed over us, locking everyone into their own battles, “you and yours have been causing me a bunch of problems the last few days, making my guys and gals all antsy and opinionated about how I’m handling things. Some of them even went as far as to question my leadership.”

“Um, sorry?” I replied as we continued to fight, a series of loud snarls and growls from my left signaling to me that both Amaranth and Valefor were busily squaring off with one another nearby.

“You should be,” Carver stated as he thrust his spear in a short jab towards me. “Because of you, I had to cut my trip short and make a few examples to bring things back into line.”

“Well, maybe you should have thought of your travel plans before you started this war. It could have saved each of us the time and effort,” I replied, moving to block the spear thrust. But before I could reach it with Splinter, Carver suddenly pulled it back and shifted his grip on the weapon, whipping the rearmost haft of the spear in my direction. Reacting belatedly to the feint, all I could do was shift my arm to catch the blow on my vambrace, the impact afterward enough to bruise me even through my armor.

“Before I started this?” Carver repeated in a dangerous tone, the effect of which was partially lost as I retaliated to his feint mid-speech and managed to land a shallow slash just above his elbow, the injury turning his words into a hiss. “You’re the ones who started all of this! If you’d just kept your nose in your own business, everything would have been fine. But no, you had to interfere.”

“Of course, we did!” Freya shouted at the man in an angry tone as she threw herself forward with a burst of speed, breaking away from the dervish that she was fighting to attack Carver along with me and immediately forcing him on the defensive. “What were we supposed to do, stand by and watch? You were kidnapping our settlers and turning them into monsters! We saw it with our own eyes!”

“Oh ho, so you know! That means that you did find the little present that we left behind then! How perfect! I was worried they’d go to waste!” Carver replied, his expression widening into a savage grin as our battle rapidly intensified.

Reacting to her attack on its master, Valefor abandoned its fight with Amaranth and leapt towards Freya, causing Amaranth to belatedly follow behind. But the arrival of Carver’s familiar was only half of the rapidly escalating fight as the corrupted dervish that Freya had broken away from moved to follow her, filling the air with its slashing arms.

“They were all getting to the point of expiration, so it wasn’t worth it for us to take them with us,” I heard Carver say as we fought, my focus having shifted away from the man and onto the aforementioned construct, Alacrity just barely managing to keep me ahead of its attacks. “We all figured it was better off to leave them behind as a surprise just in case some wagging tongues decided to point you our way.

“Though,” he added a second later in a taunting tone, “if you know that, then that means you know what happens every time you break one of our toys. I have to say that I’m surprised that you all decided to hit them so hard this battle. I figured that you’d all try and save them, or something else needlessly altruistic.”

“We’ll save them by beating you first, Carver,” I growled back at the man as I mentally commanded Amaranth to take my place in fighting the dervish, the two of us swapping positions seamlessly in the blink of an eye.

Trusting that my familiar would be able to handle the creature, I channeled a handful of magic as I turned to face Carver once again, unleashing it in a burst of fire when he came into sight. Blazing outwards from my palm faster than he could react, the Flameburst managed to sear the better part of the man’s right leg before he could move it out of the way, a loud curse filling the air as he did so. The move, however, while effective, unfortunately also ended up costing me with my own burst of pain as Valefor lunged to bite and clamped its teeth on my outstretched arm.

Hissing at the pain and the accompanying sensation of mana being drained from me, I moved to dislodge the creature, accepting a second stab of pain while yanking my arm sharply towards me and slashing at it with Splinter. Choosing to hang on for a second too long before attempting to let go, the spirit wolf let out a pained cry as my æthertouched blade carved a line across its head and brow, causing its ethereal form to waver. Yet no sooner did my blade pass through the creature, did my world suddenly erupt into a spray of stars and dizziness as something hard slammed into the side of my head, causing my helmet to ring loudly in my ears. Momentarily dazed from the impact, I lost all sense of my surroundings for the next few seconds, my body reacting purely on instinct as I leapt backward and away from the thick of battle.

Managing to disengage from combat without anything else hitting me, I paused for a second to shake my head and clear it, my vision rapidly settling. As I did, I found myself staring forward at an image of both Carver and his familiar fighting with Freya and Amaranth, the two having moved to block the pair from attacking me. Blinking once, I saw that in the short time that I had lost, Carver had somehow managed to gain a vicious stab wound in his shoulder, a slow trickle of blood oozing outward from it to cover his chest.

“Seriously, why are you doing this, Carver?” I asked as I forced my way back into the battle and fell in beside my friends, the three of us combining our attacks to press the pair, the dervish we had been fighting now nowhere to be seen. “I don’t know how you managed to get all of these orcs here, or what story you might have sold them to get them to attack us, but you have to know that this isn’t going to end well for you all. It’s only a matter of time before word of this battle gets out to the public, and I doubt that you have enough orcs with you to stand up to all the adventurers in Eberia.”

“And what makes you think that these are all the orcs I have with me?” Carver replied, a sneer appearing across his face as he stabbed his spear towards me, looking to buy himself some space to defend against Freya. “I’m afraid that you don’t get what’s happening here, Lyrian. This isn’t just a little dust-up between our two sides. Not anymore. What you’re seeing here are the beginnings of round two.”

“Round two?” Freya asked. “Round two of what exactly?”

“What else?” Carver replied in a smug tone as he and Valefor lunged once more towards us. “The war.”

“The war?” I repeated, feeling my eyes widen as I danced out of the way of the crimson spirit wolf and deflected the tip of Carver’s spear away from me, responding with my own attack that the man easily caught on his armor. “You can’t be serious! The war was over before we even started playing!”

“Look around you, Lyrian,” the man replied as he shoved me and took a large step backward, using the brief break in our fighting to indicate the battle around us. “Does it look like it’s really over? It just took a break for a time for a few…changes to be made. This time we won’t have your Nafarr interfering with us anymore.”

“My Nafarr?” I asked with surprise as I bounced back on my heels from the man’s blow, watching the man warily as he spoke. “What are you talking about? What the hell do they have to do with any of this?”

“Everything,” he answered in a vicious tone before going on to bark a guttural word of power followed by a sharp gesture with his spear, the quick spell causing a thick black cloud to suddenly spring into existence directly on top of me.

Shit, what the hell did he just do? I thought with a mental panic as the growing miasma clouded my vision and forced me to shove Carver’s cryptic statement to the side in favor of the moment. In an instant, both the battle and my nearby companions became impossible to see as the dark smoke continued to thicken. As it did, I felt a surge of nausea shoot through me, causing my hunger to roil followed by a string of alerts flashing through my vision.

You have been afflicted by Carver’s [Corrupting Cloud]!

You suffer 41 corruption damage from [Corrupting Cloud]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 1%!

Your [Hunger] devours [Corruption], restoring 50 points of mana!

Oh, damn it! He can cast spells with the corruption? I hissed mentally as I read my combat log, activating True Sight the second that I realized the nature of the man’s spell, my feet already moving of their own accord as I tried to get out of its effects as fast as possible. Or at least, that’s what I tried to do as I rushed towards a pocket of safety that I saw near Freya, only to see her flinch and rush away from me, her voice calling out a second later.

“Lyr! Stop moving!” she shouted in a loud voice. “You’re spreading the corruption with you everywhere you go!”

“I’m wha—oh, shit. Sorry!” I called back to the woman, it taking me a second to process exactly what she’d said. Once I did, however, I made sure to do exactly that and ground to a halt, belatedly realizing that Carver hadn’t dropped the spell where I’d been standing but had instead pinned it directly to me.

Probably to keep me from blink stepping out of it, I thought as I tried to get my bearings, having lost sight of Carver after I’d moved. But, then he doesn’t know I can see through it and Blink step anyway…though the cloud makes things a little tricky. Hmm, fortunately, I happen to have other options to fall back on instead.

Summoning a wave of magic, I began to cast a spell that I’d yet to try out in battle since learning it, weaving a shell of pure mana around my body. Taking a second to form, I felt the nauseating sensation throughout my body abruptly fade as my Arcane Shield came into existence, giving me a respite from its effects and a chance to preserve what hit points I had left.

Ah, crap, and just in time, too, I thought as I saw a section of the nearby orcs outside the cloud suddenly ripple, the movement signaling the impending approach of something exceptionally large. Fearing the worse, I had just enough time to reach into my rapidly dwindling mana reserves and activate Alacrity before a singed and battered corrupted guardian burst free of the crowd and entered the haze at a run. Leading with its massive tree trunk-sized arm held high above it, the creature fixated on me as it adjusted its charge through the corruption, the massive club already beginning its downward arc in anticipation of the blow to come.

Reacting as fast as my flatfooted body would let me, I made the most of my hasted state, a desperate plan assembling itself in my mind as I summoned yet another wave of magic from within, reaching for every last mote of mana I had. Channeling the spell quickly, I barely managed to finish casting Arcane Chains before the construct reached me, the azure-colored links of magic appearing just in time to wrap themselves around one of its legs. Pulling itself taut, the magic was far from enough to halt the massive guardian’s momentum in the short space separating us, but it was just enough to send it stumbling off stride.

Which fortunately for me was all I needed.

Throwing myself to the side as the spell finished, I was able to sidestep its attempt to pulp me, the construct’s attack hitting the ground where I’d just been standing with enough force to send dirt spraying through the air. But despite my narrow slip of its main attack, I still wasn’t out of the woods yet, my attention sliding towards its second arm, its clawed hand stretching out at me. Gritting my teeth as I fell into the next stage of my desperate plan, I recovered from my dodge as quickly as I could manage while raising Splinter upwards into what I would normally consider as an ill-conceived hard parry. Slamming into me with the full force of its momentum behind it, I felt the muscles and bones in my arm scream as I connected with the guardian’s claw, its heavy attack shoving my weapon back. In any other circumstance, I would have never considered to ever enter into such a one-sided physical exchange with such a strong opponent, knowing full well that my talents edged more towards speed rather than strength. But given the circumstances and where I found myself in the battle at the moment, I knew I had to do something drastic before I found myself overwhelmed.

Okay, now this next part is probably going to hurt, I mentally whispered to myself, the fleeting thought passing through my hunger-filled mind as I saw the guardian’s claw slide up Splinter’s edge and deflect up as I pushed against it with all my strength, changing its trajectory ever so slightly. Instead of now impacting directly square in my chest, the claw was now knocked off course, continuing its arc over my sword arm entirely and carving a line across my neck and shoulder.

Or at least it would have, had my Arcane Shield not been in the way.

Sparking as it made contact, the claw’s razor-sharp tips came to within an inch of my skin encountering the barrier, running along it harmlessly before being deflected a second time, the shield pushing it completely out of my way. Feeling nothing from the impact, I let out a mental sigh of relief as I darted into the construct’s now-exposed guard, the only sign of the attack ever having landed belonging to the steady string of notifications flashing by in the corner of my vision.

Your [Arcane Shield] absorbs 41 corruption damage from Carver’s [Corrupting Cloud]! (377 Shield Points Remaining).

Your [Arcane Shield] absorbs 227 slashing damage from a [Corrupted Guardian]’s attack! (150 Shield Points Remaining).

Blocking out the still-ticking alerts as I closed the final distance separating me and the guardian, I instead focused my efforts on bringing Splinter to bear, forcing my still-stinging arm to thrust out with the sword. Guiding it with a single glance at the construct’s body, I had just enough time to aim the tip towards its chest, battle damage having revealed the cocoon beneath its muddy surface. Stretching my arm out as the distance between us shrank to a close, I was able to see Splinter’s point find a groove in the twisted roots and begin to sink in.

Then next thing I knew we slammed into one another with enough force that I was thrown off my feet, the impact causing Alacrity to abruptly end and cause the world to return to its normal speed. Feeling the air rush out of me as the collision shattered what little remained of my shield, I felt the world around me spin wildly before turning completely dark as I landed heavily on my stomach. But no sooner did I finish moving did a heavy weight crash down on top of me, smothering my entire body and forcing it hard into the dirt.

Stunned from the twin collisions, it took a handful of seconds before my brain started to work again, my first instinct being to take in a deep breath to recover the wind that had been knocked out of me. Yet as I tried to suck in a lungful of much-needed air, I found myself instead breathing a mouthful of mud, its rancid, oily taste hitting me a second later. Immediately choking at both the vile and suffocating sensation, I reflexively began to thrash and push at the weight above me, feeling it squish and give away in response to my efforts.

“Ugh,” I grunted as I spat out what mud I could and brought a hand towards my face to scrape off the rest that caked my eyes and face. As I did, I felt the familiar effects of the corruption slowly return throughout my body, accompanied by my hunger reacting to its presence and beginning to devour it.

At least I won’t run short of mana while I’m stuck in this cloud, the idle thought passed through my still-scrambled brain as I forced myself to turn over on my side, seeing my nearly empty mana bar begin to gradually fill itself. Of course, that was followed by my health doing the same, except in the opposite direction as the Corrupting Cloud steadily took its toll, my Arcane Shield no longer intact to protect me from it. It was then, as I saw my health, that the last few seconds finally caught up with me and my mind finally cleared, reminding me of my collision with the guardian. Shit! Did I manage to kill it?

Moving with sudden panic, I forced myself to blink what mud remained in my eyes away and scanned my surroundings, finding myself half covered in an oozing mound of mud that was slowly spreading outwards and sinking into the ground. Amid the rapidly thinning mud was the familiar shape of a rootlike cocoon lying on its side, Splinter’s hilt visibly protruding from it.

Phew, I did, I thought as I saw both the blade and the river of red-black blood oozing outward from where it had pierced the cocoon, the construct having helped impale itself on the weapon when we’d collided. Let’s hope I don’t have to try and do that again anytime soon.

Gagging with revulsion, I didn’t linger to savor my narrow victory and began about the process of freeing myself from the remains of the now-dead corrupted guardian, my feet slipping and sliding across the mud. Standing, I retrieved Splinter from its place in the cocoon, trying not to think of the helpless victim trapped within as I pulled it out. Once I was armed again, I cast a look towards the battle outside the dark haze surrounding me, using the temporary break in the fighting to reach into my pocket and pull free a much-needed healing potion. Downing its contents in a single motion, I followed it up with a mana potion, the little that I’d been able to drain from the creature before its death not enough to recoup what I had spent to take it down. Breathing a sigh of relief as my injuries and hunger lessened, I suffered one last course of Carver’s Corrupting Cloud eating away at me before it mercifully began to dissipate, having finally run its course. Tensing myself as the clouds began to part, I readied myself as I saw heads snap in my direction as I reappeared, belonging to orc and Dread Crew alike.

“Well, well, look at that, you’re still standing!” Carver’s voice suddenly called out from amid the crowd to my right, prompting me to spin and glance around in an attempt to find him. “You certainly never fail to impress, Lyrian! But you really should just save yourself the energy and give up while you still can.”

“That’s funny,” I replied as I pinpointed his voice and turned to face it. “I was about to say the same—”

Finding him roughly mid-speech, it took a second for my eyes to make sense of what I saw when I finally spotted the man, my words suddenly coming to a halt. Fighting back a wave of surprise, I saw Carver striding forward across the battlefield towards me at the head of what looked like an army of living shadows behind him. It was after a second of staring at all of them, that I realized they were all corrupted spirits, not too dissimilar from the others that we’d faced earlier in the battle. Yet where those spirits mirrored the shape of animals and other more familiar creatures of the land, these spirits behind Carver were anything but, their tattered, shadowlike forms varying in all kinds of shapes and sizes.

Some of them stood nearly six feet tall, their bodies whipcord thin with a quartet of long, slender arms clawing at the air as they moved, while others barely reached half that, no two of them appearing identical to one another. In fact, the only commonality that I could see among these new entities were the vaguely bestial features that they all bore in the form of gnashing wolf-like maws, razor-sharp claws, and a set of barbed horns that crowned each of their heads. Yet for all of the differences that I saw in the spirits, there was only a single tag that appeared in my vision, a dozen lines flowing out from it to point at all of the advancing creatures.

[Corrupted Shade] – Level 23

“What’s wrong, Lyrian?” Carver called out in a taunting voice as he continued to advance towards me. “Cat got your tongue? Or do you finally realize what you’re up against now?”

Continuing to stare numbly at the man and his army of corrupted shades, I was saved from needing to reply with an answer by Freya’s voice ringing out, followed by several people rushing up to fall in beside me.

“Everyone form up on me!” she shouted as she appeared at my side, Amaranth, Helix, and a handful of other Aldford adventurers falling into place on either of us a second later. “They’re making a push across the whole line! We need to hold them back or we’ll get overrun!”

Lowering the pitch of her voice after she finished speaking, she continued in a softer tone directed towards me specifically. “Are you doing alright, Lyr? We lost you for a while there.”

“I’m okay, just what the hell happened?” I replied in an equally soft voice, her presence having pulled my attention away from Carver and his shades, allowing me a chance to better scan the battlefield and see just how much it had shifted during my temporary distraction.

And not for the better.

In the dozen some odd seconds that had passed since I’d lost track of the greater battle around me, the orcs had managed to press their advance across the entirety of our defensive line, largely in thanks to the very spirits that I saw walking by Carver’s side. Numbering in the dozens from what I could see in a single glance, their arrival had set our defense back on its heels, forcing it to give ground lest they be completely overwhelmed.

“I don’t know,” Freya stated in a breathless voice as she readied her spear before her. “Those things just…appeared all across our lines and started to force us back. Same as the other spirits did. They weren’t there one second, then they were there and attacking the next. Drace and a bunch of the others went down before we could even react.”

“Shit,” I replied, my mind rapidly trying to make sense of what was happening. Clearly, we’d seriously underestimated the orcs, thinking that the constructs were the only trick that they had in store for us. If we managed to survive the battle, and still be in good shape to continue to stand up to them afterward, we’d have to change our entire line of thinking afterward.

Assuming we even make it that far, I thought, the time for introspection coming to an end as Carver and his corrupted shades finally broke into a charge, rapidly crossing the distance separating us.

Moving as a singular entity, the corrupted shadows momentarily outpaced Carver in their charge, the man vanishing from sight behind their ranks. Readying ourselves, we all had just enough time to take a single breath and tighten our grips on our weapons before they were on top of us. Slamming into us with an avalanche of shadowy teeth and claws, it only took a second for the world to shrink, the tidal wave of living shadow blocking out everything else around us.

Staggering under the initial assault, our ragged line did all it could to stand up to the shades’ assault, the alien creatures lashing out us at us with an unbridled ferocity that forced us back. Everywhere I looked I was forced to deal with a set of slashing claws or biting teeth, their corrupting touch leaving a sickening sensation coursing through my body with every blow I was too slow or too distracted to avoid. But thanks to my hunger, the corruption that the attacking shades attempted to infect me with, and what I absorbed through my mana draining, only served to empower me, allowing me to return the favor in the form of searing Flamebursts that singed the wall of creatures before me.

Unfortunately, the success that I had in resisting the shades’ assault was only partially mirrored by the rest of our line, several of the other Aldford adventurers finding themselves overwhelmed by the corruption the creatures bore. The result left gaps in our line as our defenders fell, finding themselves unable to resist the shades’ onslaught. That, in turn, caused its own chain reaction, forcing us to shrink back from the attackers, steadily giving back the ground that we had so dearly won minutes earlier.

“Helix is in trouble!” I found myself shouting at one point during such a retreat, having just seen the lizardman vanish as a group of attacking shades swarmed him all at once before he could step back. But as I tried to rush to the man’s rescue, I was cut off from him by the timely arrival of a pair of shadows who rushed past him, their attention fixated on me.

“Shit!” I cursed, immediately finding myself on the defensive as I was forced to parry an attack from a large shade that had appeared directly in front of me while simultaneously evading a claw from a smaller one on my flank. Yet despite my best efforts, that maneuver was too much for me to manage together, the flanking shade managing to land a long, sweeping slash along my body.

Gritting my teeth from both the pain and surge of corruption the blow brought, I worked to buy myself some space, sending a searing Flameburst in the larger shade’s direction. Seeing it flinch and back away from under its heat, I was able to focus fully on its partner, a powerful Shocking Touch-charged slash causing it to burst into a spray of shadows. Varying wildly in both ability and strength, one thing that we’d learned in dealing with the shades was that much like their appearance, no two fought anything alike. Some of them were veritable juggernauts of destruction, capable of dishing out and suffering incredible amounts of damage. While others appeared to be barely more than the shadows they personified, succumbing in as little as a single blow.

Unfortunately for Helix, however, the larger shade that had attacked me proved to be of the former type. It stood up to each and every hit that I landed on it until the trapped lizardman could last no longer, my raid sense suddenly shifting his position to the rear of Valor’s Point. With my heart falling at the realization, I delivered one last slash to the shade, the belated final blow finally causing it to dissolve into nothingness, only to reveal others waiting behind it to take its place.

“Lyr! We can’t stand up to this! The Dread Crew and more constructs are starting to come through, and we’re spread too thin!” Freya called out as I retreated from the advancing creatures, regrouping with her, Amaranth, and a pair of still-standing Aldford adventurers. “We need to pull back up the hill where we can make a better—”

The woman’s words were suddenly cut off by a bolt of black magic lancing out from amid the shades and slamming into her, causing her to stagger and retch as black lines of corruption instantly appeared across her body. Spinning as fast as my body would let me, I tried to trace where I’d seen the magic originate from, my eyes moving in time to see Carver as he leapt out from amid the corrupted shades attacking us.

Shit, what the hell happened to him? I exclaimed mentally as I saw him, my heart unexpectedly quivering with a sudden wave of fear. In the brief moment that we’d lost him in the crowd of spirits, dark lines of corruption had appeared all across his body, snaking their way down from his now pitch-black hands and towards his chest.

But that instant glimpse was all that I had time for before I found him directly in front of me, the man crossing the distance between us nearly faster than I could think. Slicing through the air as it led the way ahead of him, it was all I could do to raise Splinter defensively in an attempt to deflect his thrusting spear tip away from me. Yet as my blade touched the weapon and attempted to push it away, I found myself fighting a near-impossible strength, the spear refusing to allow itself to be knocked off its course. Eyes widening at the sudden change in Carver’s ability, I instantly realized the futility of my efforts and began to twist my body belatedly in an attempt to evade the attack.

Unfortunately by then, I’d already lost too much time.

Letting out a shout of pain, I was only able to turn slightly before Carver’s spear slashed across my chest and shoulder, piercing through my armor, and rending a large gash across the tender flesh beneath. Fighting through the agony of the blow, I instinctively moved to retreat from the man’s onslaught looking to buy myself some space to readjust but to no avail. Following me relentlessly, Carver stepped forward to keep up with my retreat, not even breaking his stride as he pushed past a still-recovering Freya with barely a thought, a single fist releasing its grip on his weapon to strike her directly in the chest, sending her flying off her feet where she bounced across the ground away from me and out of sight.

“Shit, Freya!” I shouted, shocked to see the effects of the powerful blow. But a brief glimpse was all that I could manage as Carver bore down on me relentlessly, his spear lancing out with blinding speed time and time again.

What the hell did he do to himself? I thought helplessly as every attack Carver threw at me seemed to find its mark no matter what I did. Even with Amaranth helping me by my side, the two of us were unable to do anything to stand up to Carver’s corrupted state, the cat accumulating his own injuries in the process. To make matters even worse, it wasn’t long before the corrupted shades caught up to Carver’s frantic pace, joining him in attacking us.

<I-I cannot bear this any longer…> I heard Amaranth tell me as we were forced back, our wounds starting to take their toll on our ability to fight, let alone find Freya in the chaos. <We…must retreat and—>

A gut-wrenching sensation tore through me at the sudden end to Amaranth’s words, causing me to call out in a wordless scream of pain as I felt my familiar die. Glancing over to the spot where I’d last seen him, I was able to catch a wisp of fading azure light amid a pair of corrupted dervishes that had ambushed the cat.

Of course, it was right during that distraction that I felt another burst of pain as Carver’s spear finally found its mark, burying itself directly in my chest just below my heart.

Gasping for air as the blow landed, I immediately moved to pull myself off the spear’s tip, panic fusing with instinct the second I realized what happened. But as I tried to take a step backward, the spear followed me, shoving itself deeper and deeper into my chest. Gasping in agony, I tried to grab at the weapon in an attempt to pull it away from me instead, only to feel something heavy kick out my feet from under me, sending me falling heavily into my back. As I landed, I felt what little wind I had left in me escape my lungs, accompanied by a mist of blood spraying the air.

It was only then, when I was lying flat on the ground, that I finally heard Carver speak, his voice sounding unexpectedly harsh and discordant.

“Do you see now what you’re dealing with, Lyrian?” he asked in an eerie tone, as if there was a second, different voice within him repeating his words an instant after they left his mouth.

Confused by what I was hearing, I angled my head down in the direction of the voice, seeing the corrupted orc now standing over me and staring back down at me with pitch-black eyes.

“Do you understand just how little of a chance you all have to win?” he continued, pushing on the spear still buried in my chest and causing a wave of pain to shoot through me.

Gasping for air, the weapon’s movement caused me to writhe on the ground in agony, the pain taking several seconds to subside. As it did, however, it brought along a wave of clarity, the pain and shock of Amaranth’s death finally fading away and allowing me a chance to glare back at Carver in defiance.

“You haven’t beat us yet, Carver,” I said in the best voice I could manage given the circumstances, feeling the corners of my vision begin to darken. “So I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Not yet, no,” Carver agreed, offering me a shrug as he gripped his spear with both of his hands. “But, I will. Mark my words.”

Pausing for a second, the man looked like he was about to say something else before suddenly stopping, his head cocking to the side as if he was listening to something far away, his eyes losing their focus. An instant later, a sharp scowl appeared on his face at the same instant a bright flash of magic lit the air, followed shortly behind by a thunderous explosion.

“Fuck,” he cursed in an angry tone as he turned his head back towards me, the expression on his face deepening. “You all certainly like to make life harder for yourselves.”

Leaning heavily on his spear as he spoke, Carver then unceremoniously gave the weapon one last violent thrust into my chest, causing a final burst of pain to shoot through me. Lasting for only a second, I felt my body go completely limp as everything started to fade away into darkness, a single familiar phrase eventually appearing to hover in the center of my vision.

Loading, Please Wait…

Chapter 27

“I think that’s going to be it for the night, Lyr,” Freya’s exhausted voice said from somewhere behind me as I walked through the now all-too-quiet battlefield, my eyes scanning the ground ahead of me. “Anything else can wait for later. I think it’s time we headed back and got some rest.”

“Yeah,” I replied in an equally tired tone, my blurry eyes doing little of anything as they passed over the burnt and ravaged dirt before me. “I think you’re right. I can barely see anything anymore, let alone think straight.”

“You and me both,” the woman agreed, her hand landing on my shoulder as she spoke. “Come on. Let’s turn in what we’ve managed to gather and see if we can’t find a place to just…sit for a little while.”

Allowing the woman to guide me, we turned to leave the charred expanse that this morning had been Valor’s Point’s first line of defense. With the battle now over and behind us, it appeared as little more than a field of ash and broken ground, the wounded terrain a testament to the vicious fighting that we’d all endured. Glancing around as we walked, I could see that all of the carefully crafted earthworks that we’d dug to slow the orc’s assault had been effectively destroyed, their remains hewn and torn to shreds.

But at least they served their purpose. We survived the first clash, I thought as Freya and I made our way across the field, the exhaustion riding on my shoulders growing heavier with every step we took. It had been several hours since my untimely death at Carver’s hands—hours that were largely a haze when I tried to look back towards them, my tired mind struggling to recall everything that had happened. Looking back, I could make out brief snapshots of the remainder of the battle, my return to the fighting with a wave of resurrecting adventurers, and seeing the storm of magic ravaging the battlefield. From there it shifted back into the chaos of fighting, a seemingly endless array of shades, orcs, and constructs filling my mind. Then after what seemed like ages, I was standing amid a field of barren ash, watching the orcs and surviving Dread Crew fleeing back towards their lines, the deafening cacophony of battle finally coming to an end.

And being replaced by the soft and triumphant chime of me hitting level twenty-five.

I still need to find out what happened to turn the tide of the battle, I reminded myself for what had to be the fifth time, still not having had a chance to find out exactly what magic our mages had unleashed to answer the sudden appearance of the corrupted shades that the orcs had summoned. The one thing that I’d been able to pick up so far had mentioned that both Donovan and Stanton had been responsible for rallying our mages and turning their efforts to deadly effect. Without their help, the battle could have easily turned out for the worse, instead of the rough stalemate we’d been able to force.

Reaching the surviving portions of Valor’s Point in short order, Freya and I re-entered the base to the sounds of muted industry, those who were ready and able already in the process of preparing for the next battle to come. While having escaped major damage, at least in comparison to the forward lines of defense, the battle had still managed to take its own toll on the inner portions of the base, especially amongst our siege weaponry. An obvious target for any attacker with sense, our ballistae, in particular, had been subject to attacks by both the orc spellcasters as well as the corrupted spirits that they managed to drop practically on top of us at the battle’s start. The result left us with a variety of pending repairs on the machines that had managed to survive the conflict, with others being stripped down for parts, or in more extreme cases, used for kindling with little left worth salvaging. Cutting through the activity, our path took us towards the far end of the base where we had placed the more vulnerable and critical functions of our defense, such as our recovery ward for injured defenders and our various supply stockpiles.

“I hope we can get an answer for this corruption stuff sooner rather than later,” Freya said as the former of the aforementioned locations came into view, along with a decent-sized group of adventurers and NPCs milling about the tents, waiting to be seen by the healers within. At a glance, we could see that they all bore various amounts of inky black streaks or blots across their skin, a testament to the vile magic that the orcs and their spirits had unleashed during the battle.

“You and me both,” I replied, a wave of guilt shooting through me as the words left my mouth, my eyes glancing over towards the woman to see the lines of corruption that she also bore. Having afflicted nearly all the defenders that had participated in the battle, understanding the nature of corruption that the orcs wielded had turned into our biggest priority, lest we find its effects slowly weakening our ability to fight. “I can’t help but feel bad that I’m the only one able to avoid being afflicted. Hell, I can’t even absorb it away from you all to make things easier.”

“Don’t,” Freya countered, shaking her head at my statement, the woman having been there for the disappointing test when I’d tried, and failed, to absorb the corruption that had afflicted Natasha and Bax after the battle. “Whatever it is that lets you devour the corruption might be something that’ll help Halcyon and the others figure out how to do the same with magic. Knowing that it’s even possible is a start in and of itself.”

“That is a good point,” I conceded, the woman’s words making me feel a bit better.

“All my points are good points,” Freya replied with a grin, her hand reaching out to grab mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Anyway, we’re just about here, let’s go drop off what we’ve collected with Ritt and Jenkins, then we can find a quiet place to regroup before the day gets busy again.”

“Works for me,” I said, it taking another few minutes of walking before we finally reached our destination, the two of us managing to hear Ritt shouting the second the place came into view.

“All weapons go over here into these crates and these crates only!” we heard him call out in a loud voice, his tone abruptly shifting. “Hey! You! Can’t you see where I’m pointing? That doesn’t go there! I might have one arm, but damned if I don’t have five fingers that still work! Put it over—no! What are you doing? Does that even look like armor to you?”

“Well it sounds like everything is just getting along perfectly here,” I commented as Ritt continued to shout at people out of sight, barely managing to finish one sentence before beginning the next.

“It sure does,” Freya replied dryly as we finally rounded a corner and entered into a wide square of barely controlled chaos.

Having been set aside in the aftermath of the battle, the busy, noise-filled, and adventurer-packed section of the base was a far cry from what I remembered it being just a couple hours earlier. Back then all it had been was a cleared square filled with a handful of tables and crates for storage, none of us sure of just how much space we would need. Now, on my return I could see that we’d grossly undershot our estimates, the square practically overflowing with both people and the spoils of war that they’d brought with them.

“Whoa,” I grunted as I laid eyes on the barely controlled chaos that was several dozen adventurers all trying to simultaneously sort and drop off what they had managed to scavenge or recover from the battlefield.

“Whoa, indeed,” Freya agreed, our stride faltering as we took in the sight, neither of us having expected to see the makeshift supply yard practically full on our return.

Staring at the sight with wide eyes, I was able to see half a dozen crates practically overflowing with orcish weapons, many of them simply piled on top of one another until they formed a precarious-looking mound that threatened to fall over at any moment. A short distance away from it, was what I thought was a table, or at least a corner of one, the thing barely visible from under the disorganized pile of armor that was strewn both on top of it and rising up from the ground beneath it. Farther away from that was a small mountain of what appeared to be scrap wood along with what looked like the better part of one of our catapults.

“Lyrian! Freya! Great! You two are back!” Ritt called out, the man having wasted no time in spotting us as we’d arrived from his position on top of a large box, his one arm beckoning us towards him. “I need your help! Things here are starting to get seriously out of hand!”

“Uh, sure!” I answered, my momentary inspection of the yard coming to an end as I exchanged a wary glance with Freya, the both of us picking a path through the other adventurers walking about.

“What’s going on, exactly?” Freya asked once we managed to join Ritt, the man having jumped down from his perch with an all-too-familiar crazed expression on his face, his one hand coming up to steady a length of rope that hung over his shoulder before it could slide off.

“What’s going on?” he repeated, shaking his head as he let go of the rope to reach down and pick up a large leather bag on the ground beside the crate, its contents causing a rustling sound to echo out from within. “What’s going on is that we’re back exactly where we were last month with you adventurers giving me weird shit to deal with!”

His voice growing louder and higher pitched as he continued to speak, the next thing I knew I was holding both the bag that Ritt had picked up along with a second bag, this one visibly dripping with blood.

“Can you tell me why the hell you people think it’s okay to bring me piles of orc teeth and ears?” the one-armed merchant ranted as he waved his hand at the two sacks that I was now holding. As he did, the rope that hung over his shoulder suddenly came to life and began to stretch itself inquisitively towards the bags, Ritt paying no heed to its movements. “Like, what am I supposed to do with them? What is anyone supposed to do with them but throw them away or burn them?”

“Uh…” I started to say, my eyes fixating on the living rope as it moved, only to have Ritt wave me off with a slash of his hand and kick open the very crate that he’d been standing on, which I saw was completely filled with [Crushbone Belts] and [Crushbone Shoulderpads].

“And then there are these things!” he exclaimed, once again gesturing violently with his hand towards them. “I have dozens of snickering adventurers all handing these to me by the armload like they’re all in on the same joke! What could possibly be so funny about these things? Is it me? Am I the joke here?”

“Easy, Ritt, easy!” Freya replied a little anxiously, holding her hands up to soothe the irate man before he could continue, the rope hanging from the merchant pulling itself back closer to his body, clearly unhappy with his rapid movement. “Don’t worry, you’re not the joke. It’s just a little adventurer humor about…oh, geez, I can’t do this anymore. Y-you’re aware that rope on you is alive, right?”

“Eh, you mean Noodles here?” Ritt replied, completely unphased by the woman’s abrupt segue, his hand coming up to stroke the side of the rope. “Yeah, of course he’s alive. Why do you ask?”

“Because…um,” Freya started to reply, the woman suddenly finding herself at a loss for words, eventually turning to look towards me. “Lyr, help?”

“Because you’re yelling about all the weird stuff that adventurers are doing when you yourself have a rope snake hanging off your shoulder like it’s a piece of jewelry?” I suggested as I turned to look back at her.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Freya replied with a nod, turning to look back at Ritt. “Let’s go with that.”

“Uh, well, when you put it that way, maybe I’m overreacting a little,” the merchant replied, his earlier anger abruptly deflating as he looked down at the snake who continued to retreat closer to the man, going as far to coil itself partially around his neck. “But in any case, Noodles here isn’t jewelry, he’s my…uh, assistant, I guess. Helps me grab and carry things that need two hands to move.”

“Does he now?” I asked, looking at the man and wonder just how that exactly worked. “Speaking of Noodles, though, how exactly did you end up with him anyway? I thought he belonged to someone else?”

“He did,” Ritt said with a shrug. “At least until one night involving a deck of cards, a jug of Marlin’s roughest moonshine, and a really bad string of luck.”

“So I see,” I replied while simultaneously making a mental note to never play cards with Ritt.

“So you do,” he said with a nod, before motioning back to the sacks that I still held. “And hopefully you can make me see what it is I’m missing here. Am I being pranked?”

“Well, it’s actually a little hard to explain without a lot of context,” Freya replied with a shake of her head. “But they really aren’t making fun of you. It’s just a bit of an inside adventurer joke.”

“Hrm, well I guess that’s fine, so long as it’s not me then,” the man replied as he glanced towards the crates. “Though that still doesn’t give me any idea of what to do with any of this stuff! The armor we can salvage, sure, but the teeth and ears?”

“It’s just a thought, but you could give the teeth to Marlin or another alchemist,” I suggested, shaking the one sack so it rustled loudly. “They might be able to uh…make potions out of it or something?”

“Give…it to…Marlin?” Ritt said slowly, his voice turning slightly incredulous as he glared at both Freya and me. “You’re telling me that you would drink a potion made from orc teeth?”

“Uh, well, depending on what it did, yeah, probably,” Freya answered for me, giving the man a shrug as if the question were a silly one. “You already know what goes into the half the potions we already have, don’t you? Orc teeth wouldn’t be a far stretch. And I guess for the ears…you could do the same or give them to Ragna if Noodles doesn’t want to eat them. Maybe she can bake them into muffins or something.”

“You’re kidding right?” Ritt asked slowly, his eyes growing even wider. “You want me to go and give our half-orc chef a bunch of orc ears, so she could presumably make them into food. Am I getting that right? Because that doesn’t sound right to my ears.”

“Why?” Freya countered, offering the man a small grin as she replied, no doubt imagining the mental picture of him doing exactly that. “Are you scared that she’ll be offended? Or that she’ll have a recipe to actually use the ears?”

“Yes,” the man said simply. “And I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted a second opinion,” I said, offering him back both leather sacks, seeing Noodles immediately shifting towards them in curiosity once again. “The easy option is to just burn all of this and not think twice about it. Of course, if you do that, you might miss out on some money…”

“Oh, damn it,” Ritt growled as he took back both the teeth and ears, dropping each bag beside his crate. “You know, just when I think I’m starting to figure you adventurers out, something like this happens, and I realize that I don’t know anything at all.”

“If it makes you feel better, most of the time we don’t either,” Freya offered, the grin still on her face.

“Is it bad for me to say that hearing that actually does makes me feel better?” Ritt replied, his words ending with a sigh. “Oh, well. Thanks for listening at any rate. Though I’m guessing that because you’re both here, you have your own stuff to drop off too?”

“We do,” I said, taking that opportunity to reach into my inventory and pull out a cracked ballista bolt, its arcane-edged tip still attached. “We have a huge crop of these we recovered, plus a bunch of weapon and armor scraps, along with some miscellaneous debris. And before you can ask, we don’t have any teeth or ears, so don’t worry.”

“Small blessings, then,” Ritt replied as he glanced over at the bolt I was holding, his hand motioning over his shoulder to point deeper into the square. “But in that case, the bolts all go straight to Jenkins at the far end of the square. He and his assistants are fixing them up right as they come in so we can have them ready in case the orcs attack again. As for the other stuff, I’m pretty sure you can tell where it’s supposed to go. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get most of it sent back to Aldford tonight for Léandre and the others to pick through and salvage. What we have just here is more than we can realistically process in any reasonable timeframe.”

“I’d definitely agree with that,” I said as I gave the supply yard another glance, seeing once more just how cluttered and filled it was. “All right then, Ritt, we’ll get out of your hair for now and drop our stuff off. If we end up with a quiet evening later on, I’ll see if I can’t come by to help you guys sort this mess out.”

“I’d appreciate it, Lyr,” the merchant replied graciously as we made to leave. “But if you want to take it easy for a night, I definitely won’t blame you either. We’ll figure this out one way or another.”

Saying our goodbyes, Freya and I broke away from the man and headed deeper into the square, waiting until there was a good distance between us and Ritt before speaking in hushed tones.

“You didn’t tell him about the teeth and ears we collected,” Freya said as we walked, the woman turning to glance over her shoulder. “What are we going to do with them now? They were part of the loot for some reason, but I don’t know what we’re supposed to do with them.”

“Neither do I,” I replied, shaking my head at the question. “That idea with Marlin was just a wild guess. In either case, though, we don’t need to worry. After he gave me the bags, I dropped in everything I had when he wasn’t looking.”

“Oh, smart,” the woman replied, breathing a brief sigh of relief before her eyes suddenly widened in a panic. “Shit, wait, what if he really goes to Ragna and she ends up cooking those ears? I was half-joking when I suggested that! I don’t want to eat orc ear muffins!”

“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head as a smile crept across my face. “But you’re on your own on that one. I don’t need to eat remember?”

“Lyr! That’s not funny!” Freya insisted, her tone rapidly increasing in urgency. “What are we going to do? The last thing I want to deal with is to have orc ears in my f—”

“Hey, Jenkins!” I called out, interrupting the woman mid-sentence as our whispering exchange finally brought us to within earshot of the man and the area that he’d set up shop in. “We have another batch of bolts to drop off for your tender touch.”

“Oh, hey, it’s you two. I was wondering when you’d make it back,” the man said by way of greeting as he glanced up from the workbench he was standing behind, a large arrowhead in hand. “Just drop whatever you have in the barrel there, and one of us will get around—hrm, are you alright there, Freya? You look like you might be sick.”

“I’m…fine,” she replied in a halting voice, giving me a pointed glance before turning towards the smith. “I might have just given Ritt some…questionable advice as a joke, and in hindsight, I’m afraid he might actually follow through on it.”

“Eh? A joke?” Jenkins grunted in confusion as his eyes shifted between us. “What do you mean? Erm, wait, do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” I said to the man, unable to keep a small grin off my face. “But if Ragna happens to bake muffins in the next couple days, you should probably pass on them.”

“Muffins?” Jenkins queried before shaking his head at the question and waving it off. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just take your word for it.”

“That’s probably for the best,” Freya agreed, breathing a sigh of relief as she spoke.

“Right, well, anyway,” the man said as he changed topics, his voice dropping down in pitch. “How…how was it back down there? Any movement from the orcs since they pulled back?”

“Only from the skirmishers that they’ve sent out,” Freya answered in a tone that matched his. “At least a few dozen of them have been seen heading out into the surrounding region, no doubt to get the lay of the land around us. As for the horde itself, it looks like they’re setting themselves up to stay. We could see them starting to build a line of earthworks just outside our range.”

“Damn,” Jenkins cursed, his expression visibly falling as he digested the news. “Then do you think it’s true? The whispers that have been going around the base that is. That the war is starting again?”

“I…think it’s a bit too early to think anything like that,” I replied, despite Carver’s words of exactly that echoing through the back of my mind. “There are a lot of orcs out there, sure, but we’re still getting a proper count of them and figuring out exactly what else we’re dealing with.”

“I see,” Jenkins said, doubt evident in his voice as he looked back at me, his eyes meeting both mine and Freya’s briefly before he shrugged his shoulders, appearing somewhat embarrassed as he collected himself. “Sorry, it’s just nerves on my part. I’ve spent all my life living through one war with the orcs, one that I thought was over for good. To think that it’s all starting again…and so soon after it ended…”

“We understand,” Freya said in a soothing tone as the man trailed off, his shoulders shrugging helplessly for a second time. “And we can only imagine how it feels from your perspective. But Lyrian is right. We don’t fully know what we’re dealing with, and until we do, we can only take things one step at a time.”

“You’re right,” Jenkins replied, his head bobbing in slow agreement to the woman’s words. “And I suppose that even if it ends up being a full-blown war again, at least this time we have you adventurers to help us. After seeing the way you all stood up to the orcs today…”

Once more the man’s voice simply trailed off while shaking his head.

“No matter what comes our way, we’ll do our best,” I promised, meeting the man’s eyes as I spoke, Freya’s voice echoing out with a similar assent moments behind mine.

“I know you all will,” Jenkins replied, his moment of doubt passing as his eyes hardened with resolve. “In either case, though, there’s no use in stressing when there’s work to do. Let’s have a look at what you’ve brought me.”

Shifting gears from there, Freya and I unloaded the contents of our bags with everything that we’d scavenged from the battlefield, handing Jenkins a collection of broken ballista bolts and other arcane-edged weaponry. Once we were finished, we bid the smith farewell and made our way out of the square, happy to find our way out of the press of people.

“Whew, I’m glad that’s over with,” Freya said as soon as we were free. “Now what do you say about finding that place to rest we were talking about earlier? Not only do I really need a break, but I’ve been half reading my level twenty-five class skills out of the corner of my eye and getting nowhere fast.”

“Ha, I hear you there,” I said, my attention turning to glance at the two notifications that had been hovering steadily in my vision for the last few hours. “Though…in the interest of expediency, maybe a quick glance over them right now while we walk couldn’t hurt? Then we can focusing on relaxing afterwards.”

“You know, I was just about to suggest the same thing,” Freya replied with a smile. “Give them a quick skim and regroup in a minute to trade notes?”

“Works for me,” I said, returning the woman’s smile with one of my own as I shifted my attention back towards the first notification, seeing that it was a summary of the battle that we’d just fought.

Battle Summary Update! War: The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew & Orc Tribes of Khudazal

Wednesday, April 17th – Battle at Valor’s Point

Outcome: Minor Victory

Allied Player Casualties: 212

Allied Non-Player Casualties: 0

Enemy Player Casualties: 41

Enemy Non-Player Casualties: 389

War Assets Destroyed: 43

War Assets Lost: 6

Rewards:

Glory Points: 703

Experience: 55,000

Leadership Experience: 15,000

Huh, it looks like we did better than I thought we did, I noted as I read over the battle summary, slowly absorbing all of the details that it presented. Having been thrust directly into the middle of the conflict, it had been hard for me to get a sense of the scale of the overall battle and what it had cost both of our sides. It looks like we only suffered losses amongst our adventurers, which is a bit inflated since that number accounts for multiple deaths after respawning and running back into the battle. Though that said…the orc and Dread Crew losses are a hell of a lot higher than anything I expected. The summary has to be taking all of the spirits and shades into account on the enemy non-player casualty tally, in addition to any orcs we killed. I’m guessing too that the orc constructs also make up the war asset numbers since I can’t imagine what else could account for them.

Continuing my scan through the list, my gaze eventually took me towards the rewards section, which had been the source of the boost that I’d needed to not only reach level twenty-five after the battle’s end, but also make headway to level twenty-six. In addition, the battle had also managed to give me enough leadership experience to net me three more skill points along with a healthy dose of glory points. As I moved past the rewards section, I saw another section labeled “Spoils”, which after a few seconds of staring at I realized appeared to exhaustively list everything that we’d managed to recover from the battlefield thus far. Blinking numbly at the massive list of mundane weapons, armor, and other supplies, I decided against pursuing it, for the time being, knowing that if allowed myself to get into the details, I’d never stop until I finished reading everything.

With a minor act of will, I forced myself to dismiss the summary and instead turned my attention towards the second pending notification in my vision, seeing my character sheet spring up to fill a portion of my vision. Taking the time to get my bearings, I went about the traditional level gain process and glanced over my attributes, considering where the best place was to spend my free points.

Well, the plan earlier was to try and bring agility’s base score in line with strength, so might as well finish that, I said silently as I reviewed the two attributes and mentally assigned the points. Once I was done with that, I turned my attention towards my newly gained leadership skill points and glory points, scanning over each respective portion of my character sheet and assigning those points as well. In the case of my Leadership skill, I chose to max out Enhanced Movement, bringing the skill to its max level of ten. For my PvP skills, on the other hand, I had just enough points to max out Increased Health, granting me another half of a percent of hit points, as well as gain two levels worth of Increased Mana, granting me a full percent increase in that attribute. Reviewing my choices, I took a moment to refamiliarize myself with my newly updated character sheet before confirming my choices.

Statistics:

HP: 1668/1668

Stamina: 1479/1479

Mana: 1805/1805

Experience to next level: 49337/62800

Renown: 7110

Attributes:

Strength: 80 (116)

Agility: 80 (118)

Constitution: 85 (89)

Intelligence: 105 (108)

Willpower: 30 (33)

Not seeing anything to cause worry after a second’s glance, I confirmed my choices before promptly dismissing the sheet from my vision and eagerly bringing up my skill menu, excited to see what awaited me now that I had the time to fully investigate it. But instead of the long list of six class skill choices that I was expecting, I found myself greeted by only three this time. Puzzled that the game would suddenly change the pattern that we’d seen so far, I focused my attention on the list, feeling my heart begin to race the second my eye landed on the first ability.

You currently have 1 unspent Class Skill Point.

Please select an ability from the following list to learn:

Traits:

Arcane Surge

Type: Ability, Magical

Duration: 30 seconds

Skill Requirement: Three Arcane Trees Level 20 or higher, any Weapon Skill Level 20 or higher, three or more Martial abilities.

Description: After countless hours of honing both your magical and physical ability, you have learned how to temporarily surpass your body’s normal limits by sending a surge of mana coursing through your muscles.

Effect: For the duration of this ability, all of your physical stats are increased by 25% and you gain an additional 10% damage bonus to all melee attacks. Note: Due to the toll this ability takes on your body, you must wait five minutes before reusing it.

Resist Magic

Type: Trait, Magical

Duration: Permanent

Skill Requirement: Three Arcane Trees Level 20 or higher, ten or more spells learned.

Description: Gaining a better knowledge of Spellcraft as your skill increases, you have learned how to prevent hostile magic from fully latching onto you, causing it to slide off with reduced or little harm.

Effect: This Trait grants you a bonus 20% chance to reduce or avoid the effects of hostile debilitating or damage over time magic directed at you.

Familiar Magical Aptitude

Type: Trait, Magical

Duration: Permanent

Skill Requirement: Improved Familiar, four Arcane Trees Level 20 or higher, Magically Sensitive Familiar.

Description: After prolonged exposure to your magic through your shared link, your familiar has begun to develop the ability to learn and cast its own spells. Furthermore, thanks to this development, any spells that you share across your link with your familiar now require less mana to cast.

Effect: Your familiar learns three of your spells and is now able to cast them at will from its own mana pool. In addition, any spells that you share with your familiar have their mana cost reduced by 20%.

Oh, wow! I gasped mentally as I finished reviewing all of the options available to me, my surprise causing me to almost trip over my own feet as Freya and I continued to walk. These are all amazing! And even more powerful than anything we’ve ever gotten before up until now!

Pausing in disbelief, I forced myself to read through all of the traits for a second time, trying to absorb each of their contents and how they would fit into my playstyle.

These are all capstone abilities to round out our final base class progression, I thought as I read. This is our last skill point that we get in our base class, then we have another class challenge waiting for us at level twenty-nine, followed by our advanced class the level after. I think that these abilities are supposed to be a class-defining feature in our playstyle going forward.

With that thought still floating in my mind, I couldn’t help but look at the list a third time, noticing that each trait outlined a particular aspect of play. Arcane Surge was an offensive trait that could greatly augment the spellsword’s ability to cause damage over the course of a short window, turning them into temporary melee juggernauts. Resist Magic, on the other hand, was the defensive choice, adding onto the class’s ability to avoid damage or being pinned down by hostile spells, something that I could appreciate given my most recent encounter with Carver. Then, of course, there was the utility choice in Familiar Magical Aptitude, a trait that couldn’t help but pull on my heart the instant that my eyes landed on it. While it wouldn’t affect me directly as the other two options would, choosing that trait would further enhance Amaranth as he fought beside me, allowing the cat to better support me, as well as grant him a whole new level of development.

But for as interesting as all of those options were, it was also what I didn’t see that caught my attention as well.

There’s nothing here about my ætherwarping or my mana draining ability, I realized, wondering why an option reflecting further developing that path hadn’t appeared to me, even if I wasn’t completely sure that I’d pursue it. Maybe this is just restricted to a class progression? Or maybe there are hidden conditions I haven’t met to unlock new skills? Ever since I lost control that one time, I’ve never let myself get anywhere close to running out of mana again. Or…any further progression on that path doesn’t involve a skill point and instead is something that I need to explore physically in the game world.

But despite my thoughts swirling wildly in my mind as I considered all my options, it only took a second for my thoughts to begin to crystalize and a decision to form. There was just one option before me that I could live with, and I knew that if I didn’t take it, I would regret my choice forever. Filled with conviction, I turned my attention back towards the list of abilities and selected Familiar Magical Aptitude.

Amaranth will definitely be in for a surprise once he respawns tomorrow, I thought as I confirmed the choice, a small smile creeping across my face.

“So,” I said as I dismissed skill list and turned my attention back towards Freya, my grin growing even wider. “What skills did you get?”

Chapter 28

Thursday, April 18th, 2047 – 10:15 a.m.

<This is wonderous!> Amaranth shouted through our shared link as I rushed after the cat, my head craned upwards in hopes of catching a glimpse of him. <Never would I have expected anything like this!>

<Amaranth slow down! You—> I shouted, my mental words cutting off as I was forced to just barely dodge a trio of adventurers that stepped out from behind a corner in front of me, prompting a chorus of curses to sound out.

“Sorry! So sorry!” I called out behind me as I continued to run, twisting just enough to see the surprised looks on their faces. <Amaranth, this isn’t funny anymore! You need to get back down here! You’re causing a scene!>

<By what? By running free?> the cat queried, the sound of a heavy thump above me being the only warning I had before I spotted an azure blur sailing directly overhead. <By finally being unchained from the earth’s hold upon me?>

<By running on the rooftops!> I shouted through our link, putting on a burst of speed as I continued to chase the cat, hearing several townsfolk exclaim in amazement. <Not all of them can support you! You’re going to break through and—>

Appearing without warning, the aforementioned familiar was then suddenly directly in front of me, the faint snap of magic heralding his arrival. Glaring at me inquisitively as I stumbled to a stop, the cat sat down on its haunches and cocked his head towards me in question.

<Hm, it seems that I am low on this “mana” that fuels my spells,> the cat told me. <How might I acquire more?>

<By staying put for longer than three seconds,> I replied to the cat, breathing heavily thanks to my mad sprint in chasing the cat. <And letting me finish explaining how this spellcasting thing works.>

<Hrm, very well,> Amaranth grunted impatiently. <Explain then.>

<Not here!> I growled at the cat while glancing to the side, seeing that several people had stopped to stare at us uncertainly. <Right now, everyone is probably wondering why I’m chasing you through town and why you’re suddenly able to teleport around! We need to go somewhere quiet and out of the way first!>

“Now behave and follow me!” I said to Amaranth, motioning for him to fall in beside me. I didn’t even know how to begin to explain to the onlookers about what had just happened, let alone know if they’d even understand. The best thing in my mind right now was to get as far as I could away from here and hope they assumed I was training my familiar to do tricks or something.

Escaping the situation by simply walking away from it as fast as our feet could take us, it took us a few minutes to travel to the other side of town and to Aldford’s arena, navigating the busy streets as best we could. Fortunately, that extra bit of time also gave me a chance to catch my breath and reconsider my approach on how I was going to coach Amaranth on his new abilities.

I think I might have underestimated just how excited he was going to be, I thought, recalling the first moments after I explained to the cat about being able to cast magic and asked what spells he would be interested in learning. He’d responded with a flurry of excitement, sensing the sudden change in his ability instantly. The minutes that followed afterward were filled with Amaranth demanding for me to recite every spell that I knew so that he could choose which ones he wanted to learn. Deciding quickly once I did so, Amaranth then chose Blink Strike, Flameburst, and oddly enough, Jump, as the spells that he wanted to learn, which, in hindsight, should have prepared me for what happened next.

He took off.

Clearly overjoyed with the prospects of being able to control a whole new set of abilities, the cat didn’t waste a single second in starting to explore them, abruptly using Blink Strike to teleport to the roof of the nearest building. Not content with that simple experiment, Amaranth at that point tested out his newly learned Jump spell, clearing nearly an entire district in a single powerful leap. It was at that point when I realized that my plan had gone terribly off the rails, my familiar then leading me on a merry chase across the better part of Aldford.

At least he didn’t try to use Flamestrike, I pointed out to myself silently as we finally reached the arena, a place where passing people were no longer staring at us strangely. That would have been a completely different sort of disaster.

<Okay, now please don’t run off again,> I began as I angled us towards a conveniently empty arena square that would give Amaranth enough room to test his abilities. <This should be more than enough room for you to get used to your new spells.>

<If you say so,> my familiar answered doubtfully, eyeing the space impatiently. <Now what is it that I need to know?>

<Your limits, to start with,> I said to the cat we came to a stop in the center of the square. <As you just learned, the amount of mana that you have isn’t endless and is something that you need to carefully manage, otherwise…>

Settling in, the next few minutes passed by slowly as I coached Amaranth through the basics of spellcasting and how important it was not to overextend one’s self magically. Fortunately, in Amaranth’s case, he didn’t have the same problem I did when it came to regenerating mana, giving him the opportunity to continue practicing under more controlled conditions. Learning quickly, it didn’t take long for him to discover just how many spells he could cast before exhausting his mana supply, which compared to mine was notably smaller.

He hasn’t had much reason to use mana until now, I thought as I watched Amaranth effortlessly clear a near forty-foot vertical jump, landing in a cloud of dust in the center of the square. There was little doubt in my mind why he’d chosen that particular spell as one of his three, it enhancing his already potent leaping ability to near ridiculous proportions. As I watched him continue to test his limits, I suddenly had a vision of him climbing onto everything that he could now, which given my most recent experience, now included buildings. Never in my life did I think I’d have to housetrain a giant puma. Or better put, train him not to climb on houses.

Eventually, Amaranth tired of his jumping antics, switching over towards practicing with Blink Strike, vanishing and reappearing all throughout the arena, his paws glowing with an aura of arcane energy whenever he did so. Listening to his commentary during this time, I slowly discovered that the way he was beginning to understand his magic was a world of difference compared to mine. For him, everything was near instinctual, the spells simply reacting. to his will the instant he needed them. It didn’t seem that he needed to understand the workings of magic the same way that I did in order to cast one. To him, it was simply as if he’d discovered a new muscle to use.

Which I suppose helps in him not needing to train his own subset of magic skills, I said, not a little jealously as I recalled the constant effort of needing to practice Blink Step when it’d first learned it in order to not have it fail. Not lasting nearly as long as his practice session with Jump, Amaranth eventually tired of Blink Strike, switching his focus to the last and final spell in his newly learned arsenal: Flameburst.

Erupting in a burst of fire directly out from his leading paw, a blast of searing flames filled a roughly cut arc of the sandy arena ground, stretching half a dozen feet in front of the cat. Feeling its heat even from my position several feet away, I couldn’t help but wince as Amaranth followed it up with a second cast of it, albeit slightly closer to me. Mercifully, however, the rapid casting of the powerful spell exhausted his mana supply, leaving him standing directly between two blackened scorch marks on the ground.

<I find myself liking that spell,> Amaranth said as he turned his head towards me. <Any prey before me now shall certainly feel my fury.>

<I have no doubt of that,> I replied, smiling at my familiar’s enthusiasm. <But while we’re practicing, be sure to keep it focused inside this square. That way when someone comes and sees all the burn marks, I’ll only have one thing to apologize for, and not a burnt-out building.>

<So you have said,> Amaranth said to me, his mental voice sounding somewhat exasperated. <Multiple times. I am not such as Constantine to require several reminders to know not to burn my surroundings down.>

<Ha, fair enough, then,> I said, letting out a faint chuckle at his statement.

Leaving the cat to his own devices, I allowed him to continue practicing, content to give him a bit longer to get used to his abilities before we were forced to get on with our day. It gave me a chance to unwind a bit from the initial excitement of needing to chase him as well as enjoy a brief break from my morning’s travel back to Aldford from Valor’s Point.

After having a chance to take a bit of a break yesterday with Freya, we’d found ourselves quickly back at work, the demands of the war we’d found ourselves in only allowing us a momentary break. Where she had gone to help organize the repairs of the base, I’d found myself drawn into a meeting with nearly all of our mages as they tried to figure out an answer for the magic and spirits that the orcs had thrown against us. Unfortunately, while the second portion of that question eluded our best efforts—if at least for the time being—Stanton and Donovan were able to supply an answer for the first.

Evidently, during the war, such large-scale war hexes—such as the one that we had experienced—had been somewhat commonplace depending on the tribes involved in a battle, and there were a variety of methods to mitigate their effects. Ranging from the obvious method of simply killing or disrupting the spellcasters channeling the spell to preparing specialized wards to blunt such hostile magic, both of the mages were confident that we would be able to blunt the effects of future war hexes in battles to come.

Assuming, of course, that the orcs give us time to make enough of these wards that Donovan suggested we use, I thought, the mage having proposed that instead of using several larger and thinner spread wards to protect the bulk of base that we instead use multiple smaller ones to each cover a smaller radius but with more strength. According to him, the smaller wards would better be able to resist the hostile magic simply because they covered less space and wouldn’t need to stand up to the full brunt of the war hexes’ effect. The one downside to such a strategy though was making and upkeeping all of the wards, which was a labor-intensive process for all the mages involved. To which I’m a little thankful that I have a blind spot for wardmaking as a spellsword, because Halcyon certainly didn’t seem happy last night after he found out just how much work he had in store for him.

Once that particular meeting was done, I stayed true to my earlier word with Ritt and returned to the supply yard to help him and Jenkins sort out the spoils that we’d recovered from the battle. Working late into the night, it took us all hours to get everything into a reasonable state for transport back to Aldford, which after an all-too-short night’s sleep, was the reason I found myself back here. Arriving long before the sun had even begun to think of breaking the horizon, I’d unloaded the bulk of our spoils in the crafting hall for Léandre and the other crafters to recover for scrap or repair enough for use. From there, I hung around until Amaranth respawned, helping them out with whatever they needed before eventually leaving to start the process of teaching my familiar how to use magic.

Which despite its rough start looks to be going pretty well now, I added as I continued to watch Amaranth, the cat steadily practicing with Flameburst as his mana allowed. Wanting to give the cat plenty of time for practice before we began the journey back to Valor’s Point, I found myself a nearby fence post to lean against and cleared my mind, enjoying the brief opportunity to relax. Content watching Amaranth go through his spell routine, the next few minutes passed by quickly and without thought, right up until the point where a private message appearing in my vision interrupted me.

Mithaniel: Hey, Lyrian, I know that we’re early in replying, but I wanted to reach out and let you know that we’ve made a decision.

Blinking, I stared at the message in confusion at first, it taking me several seconds to fully absorb it. The second that I did however, I felt my heart begin to pound and my eyes widen in sudden anticipation.

That’s Elliot, I realized, mentally translating the name of Lionheart’s guild leader to the one he bore in reality. I hadn’t been expecting to hear anything from either of the guilds until later in the evening. To have them message me so early meant that things had either gone very well when they’d broached the subject with their guilds or that it had gone exceptionally poorly.

And there was only one way to find out.

Lyrian: Oh yeah? What did you all decide?

Swallowing hard, I sent my reply back, waiting for what seemed like an eternity before a single short message flashed in my vision.

Mithaniel: We’re in. All of us.

If anyone had seen me in the seconds that followed the message, I was sure they would have assumed me to have been possessed, or if not, completely frightened by the sudden dance of excitement that I launched into.

“Phew!” I exclaimed, feeling all of the pent-up anticipation vanish as pure relief poured through every inch of my body. But as I finished my dance, I saw that there was another longer message already waiting for me, which I promptly read and replied to.

Mithaniel: All of us meaning the Legion guild too. I spoke with, Jay, or rather Janus, just a few minutes ago, and he wanted me to pass along the news on his behalf since he’s pretty tied up right now. I’m not sure how in the loop you might be about current events here, but the shit just hit the fan, and I don’t think we’re the only guilds pulling out.

Lyrian: That’s great that you’re both on board! We’re definitely looking forward to having you all here with us. But I haven’t heard about anything recently going on, at least not past what I mentioned yesterday. What’s happening?

Mithaniel: Big picture-wise? We don’t have a clue. But the local word is that there’s been a huge shakeup in Coldscar with tons of people fighting—to the point where we can see smoke coming from it. Plus, and I have no idea if it’s related, but two of the biggest player alliances here picked today to finally throw down.

I mentally cursed as I read the latest message, my mind going to Lazarus and the others. There hadn’t been any update from the group since the man’s message a few days earlier, and I couldn’t help but assume that they were right in the middle of whatever was happening. Quickly drafting a separate private message, I tried reaching out to Lazarus for an in-game update, only to immediately receive a notice that it had gone into a queue and that the game would notify the recipient at a later time. Frowning at the notification, I made a mental note to follow up offline with the trio, almost certain now that they were wrapped up in the middle of something. Once I was done, I turned my attention back towards my message chain with Mithaniel, resuming our conversation.

Lyrian: Damn, that’s not good at all, and I’d put money on it that it probably is related one way or another at least. I just tried messaging my team in Coldscar and got a note that it was dropped into the message queue. Did Janus end up getting caught up in all of this?

Mithaniel: Not by the main conflict in Coldscar, but he’s in a shitty spot regardless. Last that I heard from him is that he’s uprooted his entire guild and was pushing his way towards us as fast as possible. If things go well, I expect he’ll be able to make it to us in about four to six hours. If there aren’t any more complications once they arrive, then we’re out of here. Our goal is to get as far as we possibly can away from this place tonight before we get sucked into this mess.

Lyrian: That definitely sounds like a good idea, and hopefully you’ll be able to. Assuming everything goes right, how soon do you think you’ll be able to make it to Aldford afterward? I can warn them that you’re on the way and have a relief party meet you along the way to guide you.

Mithaniel: We won’t turn any helping hands down, but as for a timeline, that depends. With how things are right now, if we leave on a direct path to Aldford, people are likely going to follow us, if only to be safe in numbers. We could try to lose some of them by trekking towards the fens for a day or two before turning west, but that’s going to add to the delay and might not even help.

Lyrian: Don’t worry about faking people out, just get yourselves here as fast as you can. If things have finally gone to hell in your area, they were bound to come out this way anyway. Besides, I don’t mean to pile on the pressure, but I have a feeling we’re going to need your help here sooner rather than later. Things are starting to come to a head here.

Mithaniel: Are they? Damn. Okay, we’ll do our best to move as fast as possible, which with luck would put us in Aldford roughly somewhere between late Monday or sometime Tuesday—assuming there aren’t any issues. What’s the situation like there?

Pausing at the man’s question, I took the time to collect my thoughts before replying, going on to fill him in on everything that had happened to us yesterday and our plans going forward. From there, we then hashed out a handful of other logistical details, trading whatever bits of information we thought was relevant to one another’s efforts. Ideally, if everything went perfectly with Mithaniel and the others’ progress, they would be here in time to re-enforce us before the orcs attacked in force again. Though in terms of planning, we both knew that there would be inevitable delays or surprises that would come up, especially if they were leaving a warzone. To be safe, we erred on the side of caution for their journey, making sure that whatever route they took would be one that would preserve the entirety of their guilds. The last thing that any of us wanted would be for them to end up split, with half of their numbers being sent back to Eberia for a respawn.

Eventually, our conversation came to an end with both of us promising to check in daily and wishing one another luck on our two respective tasks. Once that was done, I cleared the chat from my vision and allowed myself one final moment of rest as I leaned even heavier on the post behind me, my thoughts already racing through my mind.

Help is on the way, I said silently as I stared out blankly ahead. Now we just need to find a way to survive long enough until it gets here.

Chapter 29

Friday, April 19th, 2047 – 10:00 a.m.

CTI Player Housing Complex

“Good morning, Marcus!” Sonia’s voice greeted me the second after her smiling face appeared on the screen in front of me. “I’m sorry I’m so late to call, I was completely wiped and slept longer than I thought I would.”

“Oh, geez, don’t worry about that!” I replied, matching her smile with one of my own. “You and all of the others have been going non-stop since you left the base! You deserve a break!”

“That we have,” the woman stated with a sigh, a faint glimpse of tiredness flashing through her eyes before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “This rest day couldn’t have come at a better time. I’d have to check, but I’m pretty sure that I slept more today than I have in the last week before it. I’m not sure if I had another day left in me.”

“Yikes,” I replied, my eyes growing wider at the statement. “I knew things were intense when you were holding the orcs back, but I didn’t realize that it was that bad.”

“Perks of being in command,” Sonia answered with a shrug. “Too much to do, and too much to think about when you happen to not be doing.”

“Ah, yeah. I know that feeling, all right,” I said sympathetically, my anxious and overactive brain having kept me awake its fair share of times. “But like you said, at least we have today to relax, right?”

“Definitely,” she replied, her smile growing even wider. “Plus, it feels like ages since we’ve been able just to sit and chat with only us around. I’ve been looking forward to today since you mentioned it.”

“Ditto,” I agreed wholeheartedly, silently appreciating my friends for having been able to help organize this “date day” between Sonia and me.

With how busy the month of April had turned out to be so far, we’d almost constantly been missing one another by inches, our various responsibilities constantly taking us in opposite directions. So, when the time came to plan how we were going to stagger our rest cycles so we didn’t all end up offline at the same time, I’d asked the others if Sonia and I would be able to have ours off together. Thankfully, they had all agreed and helped make it work for us, which I greatly appreciated since I had a feeling that this coming break today would be the last one we got for the next while to come.

And I wanted to make the most of it.

“So,” I said as I came back into the moment. “How about we catch one another up a bit to start? I’ve only heard the broad strokes about how it was holding the orcs back and what you’ve been up to the last couple days. Plus, I like to think I’ve had a couple interesting things crop up on my end too.”

“You mean more than the bombshell you dropped about what’s happening in Coldscar and our two new guilds rushing to save our butts?” Sonia replied with a raised eyebrow as a coffee mug came into view, the woman pausing to take a sip. “What exactly have you been up to while I’ve been busy saving the day?”

“Oh, you know, stuff,” I said, keeping my face completely deadpan for as long as I could before breaking into a grin. “How about we get you to start first? Then we can circle back to my…developments.”

“You have ‘developments’ as in more than one and you want me to start first?” Sonia queried in a suspicious tone, her eyes narrowing over her coffee. “You, sir, are a tease.”

“Yes, I am,” I replied with a chuckle and nothing else, prompting the woman to snort.

“Gosh, you’re lucky you’re cute,” she said with a mock sigh as she set down her mug in front of her just barely out of sight of the camera. “Fine, I’ll start first with my tale of awe-inspiring heroism against an impossible horde of orcs. “

The woman paused to clear her throat before continuing in a grand tone, “So, there I was, a lance of pure molten fire in my hands, standing on top of a mountain of bodies as a million, no wait, two million orcs came rushing towards me across the plains…”

“Now who’s being a tease?” I asked, Sonia’s theatrical description earning a genuine laugh out of me.

“Not so good when it’s on the other foot, is it now?” she replied with a smirk but continued talking before I could reply. “But in actuality though, the battles during our attempts to delay went pretty well as a whole. Don’t get me wrong though, they definitely weren’t easy, but the difference in equipment and skill depending on the orc tribe we were fighting was huge. Some were practically pushovers, while others were tough and vicious to fight, especially when the Dread Crew joined them.”

Sonia paused as a thought visibly struck her, causing her to immediately shift topics.

“Oh, right! I was actually going to bring this up earlier, but I forgot. Have you been counting all of the Dread Crew that we’ve seen so far over the last few days?”

“Counting them?” I asked, caught a little off guard by the question. “Uh, not offhand. Why? Is something going on?”

“I’m not sure actually, it’s just a hunch I’ve been working through after seeing the battle summary the other day,” Sonia said. “There doesn’t seem to be enough Dread Crew around to account for them all, and I say that counting those that we killed in the battle the other day. If I had to guess…I’d say they’re missing at least twenty to thirty of them, over and above those that we’ve seen still hanging out with the orcs, that is.”

“Huh,” I grunted as I leaned back in my seat, considering Sonia’s words. Despite our best efforts, and even asking Phillion and the other prisoners outright before they’d all taken Dyre’s offer for a new start, we had little idea of just how many adventurers Carver had at his beck and call. Our best guesses ranged from somewhere in the hundred to hundred and thirty mark—minus, of course, those that we’d taken. “Maybe they’re deeper in with the main orc force? They might not have drawn patrol duty or whatever they use to organize themselves on their end.”

“Could be,” she agreed. “Or maybe they’ve shifted into support roles or have even gone and deserted. I mean, we haven’t seen Mozter and his group in ages, right? I’m sure they’ve had their own attrition. But if that isn’t the case, I can’t help but shake the thought that they’re up to something, maybe trying to flank us from the forest or are trying to lull us into a false sense of security.”

“Shit, that last one sends a chill down my back to think of,” I stated, the possibility of a forest ambush having been an ever-present source of anxiety for all of us. “But we still have eyes on all parts of the forest leading to Aldford, there’s no way they’d be able to sneak that many people by our scouts without us catching at least a whiff of something going on.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too, and I might just be overreacting and jumping at ghosts,” Sonia replied with a shrug, “but it’s been something eating at me the last few days.”

“I can understand that,” I said, reaching up to scratch my cheek as I thought about what we could do to mitigate the situation. Unfortunately, nothing that we weren’t already doing came to mind. “I hope this is just being paranoid and there’s nothing to worry about. Given what we learned from the prisoners that we took about how Carver treats his people, I’d lean to the cause being attrition and people deciding that they’ve had enough.”

“Me too,” Sonia agreed. “And if that hasn’t been the case, I’m sure it’ll be soon enough. There are only a couple more days until the first group who took Dyre’s offer get released from whatever prison they ended up in. I’m sure they’ll be sending private messages to their friends still in the Dread Crew the first opportunity they have, if they haven’t already done so back here in reality.”

“Damn, has it already been that long?” I asked, not having realized how fast time had flown. “I’d completely forgotten about that.”

“It’s been a busy month,” she said, her eyes dropping downwards at all the memories that stretched between then and now before perking back up. “Anyway, that’s really the gist of what I have here on my end to share. Now, how about some news on those ‘developments’ that you mentioned earlier? Or are you going to keep me in suspense?”

“While that is very tempting,” I replied, drawing out the word as I spoke, “I’m not that cruel.”

“That remains to be seen,” Sonia said suspiciously, her coffee mug making another appearance on the screen as she took a sip and gave me an expecting look. “Now, spill.”

“Haha, all right, all right,” I said with a chuckle. “Well, to start with maybe the most interesting thing, Donovan, Stanton, and Heron have managed to make some progress in actually figuring out what the corruption is. It turns out it’s partially divine in nature. Divine magic, that is.”

“It is?” Sonia replied in a curious tone, clearly not having expected for me to start with that topic. “So then what, all of these orcs are channeling some sort of…corruption god or something?”

“Well, that unfortunately, I don’t know, but apparently, they were able to figure out that the corruption works as a sort of…self-replicating living curse,” I said, trying to paraphrase everything that the trio had told me late yesterday after Amaranth and I had returned from hunting orcs. “Which is their theory why I can break it apart the moment it afflicts me and devour the magic powering it and also why it spreads so easily via corrupted creatures and spirits.”

“Hm, well, I guess that’s a good start and more than we knew before,” Sonia replied. “Do they have any ideas of how to cure or remove it now that they know it’s a curse? Because despite the orcs sitting pretty and digging in, we’re still getting attacked by those spirits while out on patrol. I think by the time I logged off last night, I was sitting at about twenty percent on my corruption counter, which is closer than I’d like to be to the second stage of affliction.”

“Not yet, unfortunately,” I answered, having posed the mages the exact same question. “Right now our next steps are to bring Sheila and other clerics into the research, then see if they can’t make a breakthrough.”

“I see,” Sonia replied, her voice sounding slightly disappointed before changing back towards the positive as she continued to speak. “Well, I suppose it’s a small step in the right direction at any rate, and it would be unrealistic to expect a solution after just a couple days.”

“I’m sure they’ll figure something out,” I said confidently. “Heron won’t let us down.”

“I’m sure he won’t!” Sonia affirmed, her expression perking up at my words. “We’ll just need to make sure and give him the time he needs to figure things out from our end of things.”

“Definitely,” I echoed before pressing onwards to my next bit of news. “Anyway, past that bit with the corruption, my next juicy tidbit is that I finally managed to get an update from Gavin and the others.”

“You did?” the woman responded eagerly, her excitement mirroring mine earlier this morning when I’d first seen that there was an update waiting for us in the shared chat we’d set up. “What’s going on?”

“What isn’t?” I asked, already shaking my head as I spoke. “The summary I got makes me appreciate the simplicity of what we have to deal with here. Orcs bad. Us good. It’s all nice and straightforward. Back in Coldscar and Eberia though, it’s a damn mess.”

“Shit, that sounds ominous,” she whispered. “What the hell happened?”

“Politics,” I said, taking care to pronounce the word as if it were a curse before going on to give Sonia the same highlights that I’d gotten. “Apparently, after his assassination attempt, Gavin and the others have been helping the marshal ‘clean house’, so to speak, and trying to figure out who was behind it. Unfortunately, while they were doing that, the noble houses got wind of the assassination attempt and then promptly panicked, accusing the other noble houses of being behind it.”

“I’m sure that went over well,” Sonia muttered, already shaking her head as I spoke.

“It went over perfectly,” I said with a snort. “In the form of a vicious riot and several burning buildings, which then, in turn, prompted a bunch of the local adventurer guilds to get involved when their stuff got torched.”

“Oh, shit,” the woman commented, her eyes growing wide at that statement. “Are the houses even intact now?”

“They are, but it was a close thing,” I answered, having had the same reaction when I’d heard that part of Gavin’s update. “Apparently, things were defused before anything serious could happen. But the interesting fallout of all of that was the information that came up afterward. Apparently, each of the houses involved was attempting, or had successfully managed, to bribe key officers in the Eberian military. And all for the same reason too. They all wanted protection.”

“Protection?” Sonia repeated with a confused expression. “From whom? The Ascendancy?”

“If only,” I said. “They wanted protection from one another. Or if not exactly that, for the military to intervene in their favor if relations between the houses continued to…deteriorate.”

“You mean if they broke out into civil war,” the woman stated, an incredulous expression blooming across her face. “They’re dickering about that while the dark elves are expanding outwards towards them with war on their minds?”

“According to Gavin, yeah,” I replied. “The Marshal was not particularly impressed and would have thrown the noble houses out of Coldscar if it hadn’t been for the other thing that happened practically at the same time. Remember that brewing guild war that I mentioned the other day? Well, that’s around the same time that it all started too.”

“Damn,” Sonia stated as she fell back into her seat. “You weren’t kidding when you said things were rough. Do they even know what prompted the war? Is it connected to the assassination attempt at all?”

“Gavin didn’t say,” I replied, shrugging at the question. “Though based on what Elliot told me, I’m inclined to think that it isn’t—at least, not directly. Everyone knew that the guilds were getting ready to square off, and it was only a matter of time until it happened. It is still a bit suspicious though.”

“Damn right it is,” the woman said, breathing out a deep sigh. “Well, hopefully, the gang will be able to find us some answers. Did they say what they’re doing now?”

“Actually, they did. Right now, they’re waiting in Coldscar for their feed exposing Graves to drop tonight. Of course, that’s assuming that guy in the feed was Graves in the first place,” I said. “I got an email today from Paul saying that they’ve finished putting it together the other day and got it a slot right after our feed airs tonight. Given everything that’s happened in the city, I can’t really think of any better timing for it.”

“No, definitely not,” Sonia agreed, her head bobbing in excitement. “If it’s airing tonight though, we’ll need to watch it when it comes on. If only to gauge what sort of reaction it gets and if people start moving in the direction we want them to.”

“We can do that,” I replied. “And hopefully it’ll work out. Paul seemed pretty confident that it would make a splash.”

“Good,” Sonia stated, her expression hardening for a moment. “Hopefully, that’ll have the adventurers there focusing on what’s important or at least draw more attention to what’s going on.”

“We’ll have to see,” I said, knowing that as soon as the feed aired any attempt at controlling the result would be impossible. With how unstable Eberia and Coldscar already were, it could push everything to the edge and make things worse, or conversely, it could shine a light on what was going on in the city and encourage people to get involved. “But past the news about the feed, Paul did have one other thing that he sent our way.”

“Was it a paycheck?” Sonia queried, her left eyebrow rising inquisitively. “‘Cause I really like the ones he’s sent before.”

“Okay, two things then,” I replied with a chuckle. “He finally sent us the ability compilation that his team pulled from all the feeds that other players are posting.”

“He did? Already?” the woman asked, her eyes visibly dancing with excitement at the news. “You better not be teasing a girl again.”

“I’m definitely not,” I assured her with a broad smile, happy to see her excitement. “Paul apologized for how long it took to get organized, but he sent us nearly a hundred hours’ worth of feed our way.”

Ever since we had floated the suggestion to Paul about collecting feeds from other players with special abilities for us to try and learn from, Sonia had been the most eager to dive into it. With the amount of time that she spent working with and training the other Virtus members, she’d taken on the unofficial role of being the guild’s “combat trainer”. If you wanted to learn how to cut, stab, or bludgeon something, she was the person to go to and would work tirelessly to help you reach your potential. As such, a near-endless feed of special maneuvers and abilities was a perfect gift for her, allowing her to see what other players had managed to discover while playing Ascend Online.

And then, of course, learn it herself.

“In that case, why are we wasting time talking about all this other stuff?” she asked excitedly as she abruptly stood up on her end of the camera and bent down so I could her face. “Let me get a refill for this coffee, and then we can dive straight into it!”

Without waiting for a reply, Sonia promptly rushed out of sight, prompting me to lean back in my chair.

Well, I thought, feeling a smile creep across my face, that went even better than I expected.

Chapter 30

Settling in to watch the ability compilation with Sonia, the next few hours of the day passed blissfully, with us chatting almost nonstop in the process. While it wasn’t a perfect substitute for actually meeting one another in person, it was the best that we were able to manage—or at least the best we could with the time that we had. With me being based in Toronto and Sonia being based in Miami, we weren’t quite close enough to be able to meet up easily without spending a good portion of the day traveling. So, instead, spending the day with one another online and talking through a video link was the next best thing we could come up with.

That way at least we were able to maximize the time that we had with one another.

“This one here looks promising,” I said as I watched a lithe kitsune player dance across my screen as she lunged towards a towering ogre, the spear in her hand lancing out with a barrage of attacks faster than the eye could follow.

In the span of a second, she then inflicted three deep wounds into the creature’s side before effortlessly sliding away from a thundering overhanded smash as the ogre tried to crush her with the oversized mace in his hand. Missing her by inches, the kitsune was completely unperturbed by the proximity of the blow, her spear twirling by her side as she completed her maneuver. Then, no sooner did she stop did she leap almost straight upwards, her spear gleaming visibly with blood. Slicing through the air effortlessly as she rose, the pointed tip of the weapon buried itself in the ogre’s chin, piercing through flesh and bone effortlessly until it erupted from the top of its head.

“Whoa, check that,” I replied, unable to help but be impressed by the player’s flawless execution of the creature, seeing her figure bounce effortlessly away from the now-dead body. “You definitely need to see this one here. This player has a triple attack of some sort, plus fights pretty damn well. Sending you a link now.”

“Sweet, I’ll check it out!” Sonia answered, her eyes on the second screen beside me flashing up to meet mine with a smile. “And I got one for you too. A blademaster of some sort fighting in a kickass arena somewhere. I have no idea where it is, but damn if it doesn’t look amazing.”

“Ooh, yes, please,” I replied, seeing a link pointing to a timestamp appear in the chat linked to our video link and promptly clicking on it.

Adjusting itself to the proper segment in the hundred-hour-long compilation, my other screen shifted away from the kitsune on my screen, replacing it with a tall, dark-skinned half-elf. Clad in a loose crimson tunic with matching pants, the man stood calmly with his arm extended to his side, a long, straight-edged sword in his grip. Camera panning around him as the feed continued to play, the scene shifted to reveal that he was standing in the middle of a large sand-covered field, which, in turn, was set in the very heart of a massive arena.

Filled completely to the brim with thousands upon thousands of spectators, each and every single one of them screaming with excitement.

Wow, I thought as my eyes drank in the sight, the raw energy of the scene causing my heart to race just watching. From what I was able to see, the arena was absolutely beautiful, and it was clear to me that no expense had been spared in its construction. It vaguely reminded me of the Coliseum in Rome, or how it must have once looked like when it was in its prime, but with the addition of a strong gothic motif to its design. Wherever this place was in the world of Ascend Online, it certainly wasn’t like anything that I’d seen before.

Continuing its playback, the camera stopped its movement behind the red-dressed blademaster, revealing a lithe, bronze-skinned elf. Mirroring his stance, save with two slightly shorter swords, the man’s opponent appeared little different in comparison, the dark blue tunic that they wore being the only variance in their attire. It seemed that in whatever competition was being showcased in the feed, armor was not allowed, or more likely, it was set to a common baseline to ensure fair play. Regardless of that, however, neither of the pair seemed to be perturbed by that restriction as they both suddenly leapt forward towards one another the instant that the sound of a loud gong filled the air.

Crossing the distance that separated them in the blink of an eye, the two combatants wasted no time in pressing the attack, their blades flashing brightly between them. Struggling to follow the exchange due to its speed, I at first found myself wincing in favor of the half-elf after seeing a flurry of attacks descend down upon him faster than he could react.

Or so I had thought.

Having expected to see the man stagger backward from the veritable avalanche of steel, I was surprised instead to see him instead press forward even closer towards the blue-dressed elf, showing no sign of injury. Blinking in surprise at his bravery, it was then that I noticed how the blademaster was moving, his body barely shifting to evade the oncoming attacks, his opponent’s swords just missing flesh when they weren’t caught by his blade. Watching the duel unfold, I realized that the blademaster was moving only as far as he needed to evade an attack from his opponent, and not one inch more. So complete was his control in doing this that he almost appeared slow when compared against the pale elf, who was a blur of motion in comparison—but motion that was full of wasted movements.

Where a simple step back would have sufficed to evade a slash, the pale elf instinctively leaped back two, counting on his quick reflexes to compensate for the added distance. Where a hard parry with both of his swords would have stopped an overhanded slash cold, the pale elf instead chose to dance away from it, taking him away from the melee entirely until he was able to check his momentum and counter it. Against any other opponent, such a trivial display of skill would have gone completely unnoticed and been equally unnecessary, but against the red-dressed blademaster, it was his downfall.

The contest had gone on for nearly a minute before it came to its abrupt and sudden end, the pale elf having continued his high energy assault without pause for the entirety of the duel, and without success as well. Beginning to pant and breathe hard from his constant exertion, his pace started to slow ever so slightly as the contest drew onwards, eventually prompting him to falter, his foot sliding in the sand just enough to disrupt his balance. Reacting almost instantaneously afterward was the nameless half-elf, his sword chopping itself deep into his opponent’s chest with enough force that it sent the elf hurtling backward and onto his back, a massive bleeding wound spanning from shoulder to hip.

“How’d he do that?!” I exclaimed as I saw the duel come to an end, the single strike having been enough to end the contest. It had happened so fast and inflicted so much damage that it absolutely had to be an ability.

Except that I hadn’t even seen it.

“That’s what I asked too,” Sonia commented with a smile, having clearly been waiting for my reaction. “You can see a bit more of it if you replay it in slow motion, but whatever it is, it’s still fast. We might have to poke through more of that player’s feed itself to see if he posted anything about his training. Same goes for the stance that he’s using. Whatever it is, it’s definitely strong.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” I replied as I paused the feed and made myself a quick note to do exactly that. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to learn either of the two abilities, but at the very least now, I wanted to find out more about them. Once I finished writing my note, I found myself leaning back in my seat and stretching, my stomach choosing that moment to let out a hungry rumble. “Hm, I think I’m up for a bit of a break to grab a bite to eat. How are you doing over there? You up to maybe watch a movie or something together and relax a bit?”

“That actually sounds perfect,” Sonia said, her head bobbing on the screen. “I’m starting to get pretty hungry too, and after four hours of watching these feeds, my brain is ready to call it quits. I have a bunch of abilities I’ve vaguely memorized at this point that I want to see if I can learn in-game. I think if I try to stuff more into my head, I’m going to start forgetting things.”

“I hear that,” I replied, sharing a similar sort of feeling. “Do you want to regroup in a couple minutes with food? Then we can pick something to watch.”

“That works for me,” Sonia said, her face shifting as a somewhat nervous expression appeared. “But before we go do that, there’s something I wanted to ask, if you’re okay with it.”

“You can ask me anything,” I replied, picking up on the woman’s sudden hesitance. “What’s up?”

“Well,” she began, her eyes dropping down as she clearly continued to fight her nerves, “things between us have been pretty good the last couple of weeks, and I kinda like where things are going.”

“And so do I,” I said, seeing Sonia’s eyes shift up to meet mine. “Quite a bit, actually.”

“I know,” she stated, offering me a weak smile as she continued to speak, her next words coming out in a rush. “Which is why I was wondering if you would be okay if I put in for a location transfer to shift my login point to Toronto.”

“A location transfer?” I repeated, it taking my brain an extra second to process Sonia’s fast speech, after which, my heart began to race. “You want to move up here?”

“If you’ll have me,” the woman replied hopefully. “I don’t want to rush things necessarily, but at the same time—”

“Sonia, I would love it if you came here!” I interrupted, having noticed that she was beginning to talk faster and faster with the more words that she got out. “I didn’t even think to look and see if transfers like that were even possible, else I’d have suggested it earlier myself! How soon do you think you can make the switch?”

“Not long,” Sonia answered, the earlier nervousness I’d seen on her face replacing itself with a sheepish smile as a wave of relief visibly passed through her. “I already looked, and it’d take roughly a week or two, depending on availability. I just wanted to ask before I did anything.”

“Well, I’m glad you did, and I can’t wait until you’re here!” I said, meaning every word of it. “Though are you sure you’re going to be okay leaving Miami? That’s been home for you for a while now.”

“Only because it had hot beaches and entertainment,” Sonia replied with a shrug, the smile still not leaving her face. “Before Ascend Online started, that was pretty much all I did here. I don’t have anything really holding me here elsewise. My parents are way across the pond in Sweden, and my other friends are scattered similarly around the world.”

“And none of them play Ascend Online?” I asked, this having been the first time that this particular topic had come up.

“No, or at least not yet,” Sonia said with a shake of her head. “A bunch of them missed the boat and are on the waitlist for the next few months—though I don’t think my parents will ever jump in. They’re not quite as adventurous as yours are.”

“I wish I knew how adventurous my parents were,” I replied with a snort, vaguely recalling my father’s email at end of last month that he and my mother were going to start playing. “I haven’t heard from them at all since they started playing last month. At least nothing beyond them getting their old gaming group together. Hell, I don’t even know their avatar names!”

“Oh, boy,” Sonia said with a chuckle. “They’re that intense, eh?”

“Where do you think I got it from?” I asked, prompting another laugh from the woman.

“I see,” she said once she’d settled down. “Well, hopefully, they’ll reach out at some point soon then.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, making a mental note to send another email to them in hopes of at least touching base. “Now, what do you say about getting some food in us and that movie?”

Agreeing wholeheartedly with the plan, we then ordered our respective meals and passed the time until it arrived talking to one another, ironing out details about Sonia coming to stay here. Once that was all sorted out, and my suite was filled with the tantalizing smell of both pizza and chicken wings, we watched a movie together, syncing its start so we could experience it at the same time. Then, when that movie was finished, we talked for a bit again before starting another one, content to let the day pass in each other’s company.

By the time that the third movie ended, night had fallen, and we had long since ordered a second meal to supplement the first, the two of us getting ready to watch our exposé on Graves from Lazarus’s feed. But before that came on, we managed to catch the tail end of our feed, which covered our discovery of a razed Shadow’s Fall and our attempts to figure out where the Dread Crew had gone.

“Well, I’m glad we finished eating before this part came on,” Sonia said, her jaw tightening as we watched. “Just seeing the way that they torched the place makes me feel angry. Such a waste…”

“Yeah,” I agreed as I watched myself and Amaranth appear on the screen in front of me, him and I busily scouting for any potential trail or clue to help us find the Dread Crew. Despite all the time that had passed, it was still a little surreal to be able to watch what had been a rote and ultimately fruitless experience, knowing firsthand what I’d been thinking in the moment.

Watching it silently, Sonia and I didn’t say anything as the rest of the feed played, both of us losing ourselves in our thoughts. Eventually, it came to an end, leaving us both breathing a sigh of relief as a pair of familiar hosts came on, sans the fake armor that they’d been wearing the last episode I’d watched.

“Welcome back, viewers!” one of the pair announced in an excited tone. “That was another exciting episode straight from the Lower Aurelia region, courtesy of the amazing Virtus guild! For those joining us now, my name is Kenneth Spank N’Tank, and on my right here this is my partner, Vincent the Faceroller. Tonight, we’re bringing you the latest and greatest feeds that we’ve managed to find straight from Ascend Online, and dang if they aren’t especially hot tonight. In fact, you could call them downright ‘hellish’, right, Vince?”

“That’s right, Ken,” the other man chimed seamlessly. “For those of you in the audience that haven’t made peace with your maker, I suggest you do it now because our next segment is taking us straight to hell itself! Ken and I have just managed to get our hands on a brand-new feed that ‘still’ smells of fire and brimstone!”

“But that’s not all is it, Vince?” Ken asked, stepping to the side to glance at his partner. “There’s a little something special with this next episode, isn’t there? Maybe in the form of a familiar friend of Virtus’s we might have seen before?”

“It sure sounds like it, doesn’t it, Ken?” Vince replied, and he reached up to scratch his head in a mocking form of confusion. “But that’s going to be up for our viewers to decide if it really is who we think it is. At least for this next episode. The episode after it, though…I don’t think we have any doubt at all who’s in it.”

“We sure don’t, Vince!” Ken exclaimed as a glorious fanfare sounded out, followed by a yellow and red graphic labeled “Triple Header!” that flashed across the screen. “That’s right viewers! We’re dropping a triple header of feeds for you tonight, each of them from the Lower Aurelia region! In the last few weeks, this place has become one of the biggest hotspots in all of Ascend Online, and from what I’ve seen so far, it’s still just warming up.”

“Don’t you know it, Ken!” his partner replied as the camera began to pan outwards away from two announcers. “But that’s all the time we have for building suspense, I think it’s time that we sent our viewers back to Eberia where one ‘hell’ of a show is waiting for them! We’ll be waiting here once you all get back!”

“Shit, what do you think they’re talking about?” I asked, suddenly nervous as the show faded away and began transitioning into Gavin’s feed. “We don’t have anything of ours scheduled tonight.”

“I have no idea,” Sonia answered, her face sharing a similar expression as mine as we looked at one another silently for a moment. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were referring to Carver or someone else from the Dread Crew.”

“Damn, if it is, then they picked one hell of a time to start posting their feeds,” I replied, my mind already racing as I considered that possibility. Until now we hadn’t been able to find any publicly posted feeds from anyone in the Dread Crew, even with the entirety of our production team helping us search. “Do you think it could be from the prisoners that took our offer and left? Or even Phillion? Maybe one of them changed their minds and are looking to burn Carver on their way out?”

“I don’t know,” Sonia said, shaking her head. “It could be anything or anyone, really. I think…I think we’re just going to have to wait and see. Then we can see if we need to do any damage control afterward…”

With that new thought dominating our minds, we then watched Gavin’s feed play itself out on our respective screens. Gazing blankly at the scenes flashing before me, I couldn’t help but feel vaguely cheated for the night, having been looking forward to simply relaxing as we kicked off what was likely to be a hornet’s nest in Eberia. But instead, now I found myself already thinking of various contingencies depending on what we saw next. Glancing over occasionally to the screen that held Sonia’s face, I noticed that her mental state wasn’t much different than mine, with us both already on high alert.

Eventually, Gavin’s feed came to an end, its final scenes delivering the exact impact that we’d been looking for in exposing the current state of Eberia and the mysterious figure’s involvement in the unrest that had gripped it. Fading away, the show transitioned back towards the two familiar announcers, their byplay between one another completely washing over me this time as they primed their audience for the final feed of the night.

“…and I hope you enjoy this final treat from our show as we wind down for the night!” Ken announced as both he and his partner gave the camera a farewell wave which was slowing zooming away from them. “And remember, as we said before, there was no audio included with this feed, but I don’t think any of you will need that to figure out what’s going on! Also, if any of you from Virtus happen to be watching our show tonight, good luck, because it looks like you’re going to need it!”

“Oh,” I whispered, my eyes going wide at the mention of our guild’s name. Glancing at Sonia, I saw a similar surprised expression on her face, the time for further comment vanishing as the two announcers faded away from sight, prompting my eyes to shift back towards the feed.

Fading back in a second afterward, the feed began from a first-person perspective, dirt-covered stone taking up the entirety of the scene as we strode forward at a leisurely pace. Panning upwards, our vision then shifted to reveal that we were walking amid the remains of some sort of ruin, age and weather having visibly taken its toll on the ancient stone. Continuing to move forward, our vision shifted to the right, revealing that we weren’t alone, with two large and heavily armored orcs walking beside us along with a thin, serpentine-looking arakissi woman.

“Oh, shit!” Sonia hissed as soon as the group appeared on the screen. “Is this feed from Carver?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, the thought having crossed my mind in the same instant. “I can’t quite—oh.”

Turning as we spoke, the perspective on the feed changed again as it turned to the left this time, revealing the aforementioned man that we were just talking about. Scowling with an angry expression, we could see that Carver’s mouth was moving, whatever words he might have had, being left a mystery, thanks to the feed’s lack of audio. Whatever it was, however, it didn’t seem to be directed at us, Carver then went on to finish his speech with something harsh, prompting a figure to his left to abruptly turn and run away. It was hard to tell exactly who it had been, but there was little doubt that it was a Dread Crew adventurer.

Continuing to walk, our gaze shifted forward again just in time for us to see the ruins that had surrounded us give way, revealing a sprawling cityscape around us. Immediately, we were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of both orcs and other arakissi, all of them walking through a wide-open square. Eyes scanning between all of them on the screen, I instantly saw that the majority of them were clearly dressed for war, armed and armored to the teeth. But a good portion of them also weren’t, simply walking from one place to the next, or carrying various goods or supplies to wherever they needed to be. Yet for as many of the orcs and lizardfolk as there were in the scene before us, it was all the others that soon caught the entirety of our attention, and not because they very clearly outnumbered the former.

But because of the thick iron manacles and collars that they all wore.

Appearing exhausted, malnourished, and dirty, was a large and varied array of what was unquestionably slaves. Ranging from nearly every race that I could think of, I saw dozens of humans, elves, dwarves, and even arakissi, intermixed with a handful of other species throughout the square. Some visibly carried tools in their hands as they were led through the area in chains, a group of brutal looking slavemasters flanking them as they walked, while teams of other slaves struggled to pull large wagons, heavily packed with crates.

Shocked by the sight, I felt my blood freeze as I took it in, not having expected to see anything of this magnitude in the feed. Yet despite my surprise, Carver and his entourage didn’t appear even fazed by the sheer quantity of slaves or the activity before them, the group proceeding straight through it without slowing their pace. Cutting through the very heart of the square, we were forced to wordlessly follow their progress as they advanced through what was unquestionably an orc city, built amid the bones of a massive ruin.

A massive Irovian ruin, I thought, recognizing the architecture as they moved, which I noted was vaguely similar to the fallen tower in the forest. But where that ruin had been truly ravaged by time and destruction, the one in the feed was notably in better health with the few buildings that I came into view appearing whole and still intact. Is this the orc city that the woman told us about? Khudazal?

Picking up our pace, we began to move faster through the city, the constant presence of orcs, arakissi, and slaves remaining consistent throughout our progress. In fact, the more we moved, the denser their numbers rose, along with the presence of the fully outfitted orc and lizardfolk warriors, all of which were moving in the same direction as us. Eventually, after a few minutes of walking through the city, a large stone gateway came into view, its mouth opened wide to the forest beyond. Angling our approach towards it, we passed under the ancient entryway, cracked and tired stone briefly surrounding us. Then as quickly as we’d entered it, we exited, finding ourselves outside of the city proper and heading deeper into the forest.

Walking for a time, the feed suddenly skipped ahead in a somewhat jarring fashion, the verdant forest instantly vanishing in favor of a large clearing. Devoid of any trees or foliage, the clearing was obviously a place of some importance thanks to the presence of what looked like several stone altars spread around its edges, each of them bearing strange runes and symbols that glowed with an emerald light. Flanking each of the six altars were a pair of waiting figures, one orc, the other arakissi, the familiar stains of corruption evident across their exposed skin and scales.

“Oh, what the hell is that thing?” Sonia suddenly whispered as our perspective continued to move deeper into the clearing, breaking the near-absolute silence that had filled both of our rooms since Carver had appeared. “Please tell me that isn’t what I think it is and that they aren’t going to do what I think they’re going to do.”

Taking in the scene as it unfolded, I found myself unable to say anything to answer Sonia’s words as I saw the first slave being shoved onto one of the altars, followed by the robed figures drawing long, wicked-looking knives from within their clothes. From there, the perspective panned towards a massive saurian skull that had been placed in the center of the clearing, an intricate skeleton of woven wicker wood stretching out easily four dozen, if not more, feet behind it. Staring in disbelief at the sight, I felt my heart skip a beat as a telltale bloom of emerald magic suddenly filled the air, followed a moment later by the dark tendrils that were the corruption we’d seen the orcs wield.

It’s a ritual, I said to myself as I continued to watch, feeling my hands begin to tremble the second that I saw the dirt beneath the crudely crafted creature begin to rise and mix with the magic, transforming itself into a familiar grey-black mud. And they’re using it to make another construct…an absolutely huge construct.

One that they’re going to use to attack us with.

Chapter 31

Saturday, April 20th, 2047 – 1:55 a.m.

Valor’s Point

“He did what?!” Theia demanded, an incredulous look written across her face as she stared back at Freya and me, her eyes dancing between us as if she couldn’t believe what we’d just said. “Why would Carver do that? That makes no sense!”

“I know it doesn’t,” I replied with a nod, seeing similar expressions on the assembled group’s face as they stared back at us, the news having burned away whatever tiredness that they might have still had. “But he wasn’t the one who did it. The perspective of the feed was from one of his followers.”

“Damn! Are you serious? He got backstabbed, then?” Constantine exclaimed, exhaling sharply as he gripped his head with both of his hands, pausing for a few seconds to look at the tent’s ceiling above us before turning his attention back towards us. “What’s the social media reaction to it all?”

“Have you seen a wildfire?” Freya queried in response while making an exploding motion with her hands. “The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. It had both our feed and Lazarus’s feed to build off and hit a huge audience.”

“Which if it wasn’t done by design was damn lucky timing,” I added. “Regardless of which it was, though, the world now knows that there’s a huge orc—and apparently arakissi—city out here in the Hartwyld and that they’re both working together as they get ready for war. That’s even without adding in Lazarus’s feed, which hit just as hard as well.”

“No shit,” Cassius said with a snort. “We already knew about Carver and the orcs. But to hear that they have arakissi allied with them too…that’s a kick in the pants.”

Everyone echoed out with a chorus of assent at that statement, their voices filling the command tent that we’d all rushed to gather in after Freya and I had been able to round everyone up. Having dived back into the game as soon as our rest cycle had finished, we’d moved as fast as possible to spread the word of the feed we’d just watched. Unfortunately, given the original plans that our day had followed for our avatars, neither of us had been at Valor’s Point, the two of us split between separate groups which had camped in the wild after busily hunting orcs for the entire day. It was an inconvenient delay that fortunately was somewhat mitigated, if at least in my case, by the fact that I’d hit level twenty-six while I was offline, the busy day having been enough to push me over the hump. After taking the time to regroup after our unexpected arrival and subsequent return to base, it was another two hours after that before we were able to get back and gather those available for our meeting—which only turned out to be a portion of our core group, both Drace and Sierra having taken their own groups of Virtus out into the wild to harass and keep an eye on the roving orc scouts.

So instead, we made do with the best we had on hand, rudely waking up those that remained of the group as well as pulling in Cassius and his two lieutenants, Berwyn and Kilgore, telling them all about the feed we’d seen with Carver.

“I’m sure we can all throw together half a dozen guesses around as to why one of Carver’s people might have decided to drop this bombshell,” Freya stated as she continued onwards with the meeting once everyone had quieted down. “But regardless of what the reason is, it seems that we might have found ourselves an ally that wants to help us, or failing that, someone who isn’t entirely an enemy in the Dread Crew.”

“And with about the best timing we could hope for too,” I added. “Today was the first day the feed was available to post, which means whoever posted it didn’t wait at all before doing so. And also, if you backtrack the dates…that means the events in the feed were taken on the ninth. Exactly two days after the Dread Crew razed and abandoned Shadow’s Fall.”

“So then maybe we have someone who decided to nope straight out as soon as they realized just how far in bed Carver is in with the orcs and these lizards,” Constantine suggested in a thoughtful tone. “If so, we’re damned lucky they got cold feet, else we would have been blindsided by both the alliance and this…thing they’re building.”

“My thoughts exactly,” I agreed. “While we already suspected it, this is the best evidence that we have that there’s dissent somewhere on Carver’s side, even if we can’t exactly pinpoint the full details. It’s possible we might be able to take advantage of the situation somehow in the future, especially once we see how this feed causes the Dread Crew to react.”

“Um, while I don’t disagree with you there, Lyr,” Halcyon interjected in a sleepy tone, the mage yet to fully wake up, “but, uh, what future? This construct that they’re making, they started building it ten days ago, right? That’s a really long time. It could very well show up on our doorstep today, and besides knowing that it exists, we don’t know anything else about it. It could easily outclass anything we can throw against it.”

“It could,” I stated, Freya and I having come to the same conclusion. “And the only positive notes that we can answer that question with is that from the feed it looks like actually crafting this construct is a slow process and carries a high investment on the orcs’ part—inasmuch as killing dozens of slaves could be called such. Then on top of that, they’ll need to actually commit to sending it our way, which will take time for it to physically get here and start the clock on its lifespan. If it’s anything like the other constructs we’ve faced, it’ll only last as long as the people fueling it do, and that goes down drastically the more it moves and fights.”

“And so they won’t want to let it go to waste if they don’t absolutely need it,” the mage replied, his head bobbing up and down in understanding. “Okay. I can buy that part then, but where does that leave us as a whole? Right now we’re keeping the orcs penned in, but we’re pressed hard on the defensive. If they decide to push us hard and eat the losses, they could probably push us off Valor’s Point in a day or two. Don’t get me wrong, it’d cost them half their army at least, likely more, but I have little doubt they could do it.”

“It leaves us between a rock and a hard place,” Freya said in a grave tone, offering Halcyon a curt nod at his assessment. “We can clearly see there’s a game being played here on the Dread Crew side, maybe on more than one level if the goal of this feed is to fake us out somehow. Because remember, for whatever reason, there was no audio included in the feed and we don’t know why. Maybe this whole thing is a power struggle within Carver’s inner circle and they’re trying to change things from within, but also still keep some things a secret from the public. Or there is someone actually trying to help us, and the audio was stripped to keep their identity safe. In either case, this makes the situation just a little bit more unpredictable, since we simply have no idea what might be happening on their end.”

“Or how Carver is going to react to this feed going live and he realizes he’s been betrayed,” she added, pausing for a few seconds afterward to let the words sink in. “But even past that, we also don’t know how all of the other players in the region and beyond are going to react either. So far, we’ve managed to stay off everyone’s radar by being farther out of the way and because events at Coldscar combined with the Ascendancy have been more interesting for people to play through. At least until now. With this feed adding onto our own success so far, people are going to find it hard to ignore us any longer. Especially as our own feed continues to air.”

“Which means not only do we have the physical threat of this giant monster they’re building, but we might very well find ourselves swarmed with even more players coming here,” Berwyn stated, voicing the most obvious consequence of the chain of events. “That is even more players over and above the guilds we’ve recruited and those who end up following them.”

“Which I don’t really see as being a bad thing, given what we’re dealing with,” Constantine said. “I mean, if given the choice, I’d rather run herd on a horde of adventurers than a horde of orcs and lizard people.”

“Absolutely,” I replied with a nod. “For better…or for worse. We’re in the spotlight now, even more than we’ve been before.”

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Caius said tiredly, speaking up for the first time since the meeting began, the warlock shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “And I’m doubly with Constantine here; the more bodies we have up here, the better.”

“Why don’t we go for broke then?” I asked, inclining my head towards Freya, who had come up with the idea while we’d dissected the Dread Crew feed, waiting for our rest cycle to end and for us to be able to log in again. “Our original plan was to just invite a handful of guilds to come and help us quietly, but it doesn’t look like things are going to play out that way anymore. So instead of playing it quietly, we release a statement describing the situation here and purposefully direct the attention that we’re going to get. Because just in the couple hours since the Dread Crew’s feed hit we’ve already started getting emails asking for a comment on what’s going on up here. That’s likely only going get worse as time goes on and more people watch the feed.”

“And what exactly do you want to tell them?” Constantine asked, shifting the pitch of his voice as he mockingly answered a question. “‘Yep, there’s a ton of orcs here and they’re super angry, but don’t let that deter you from coming, it’s a perfect vacation spot. Great weather, nice scenery. Just be sure to bring a sword and a thousand of your closest friends, if possible.’”

“Actually, I’d be okay with that statement,” Cassius replied with a dry snort. “With a thousand adventurers behind us, we could probably wrap up this war in a week, if not less.”

“I’d sure hope so,” I said, doing my best not to imagine a scenario involving the orcs that a thousand adventurers couldn’t solve. “Anyway, though, all of that is big picture stuff and really hinges on us surviving until said help arrives, which based on our current updates…won’t be until Tuesday, most likely. So with that in mind, I think it’s time that we did something drastic to buy ourselves that time and put the orcs back on their heels. Not to mention try and get a better idea of what we’re dealing with when it comes to that thing.”

“And what exactly did you have in mind to do that?” Cassius asked in a curious tone. “You’ve been right here with us as we’ve been grinding away at them. What could we possibly do that we aren’t doing already?”

“Well,” I replied, glancing around the tent as I saw everyone’s eyes shift over towards me expectantly. “I was thinking we could send a team to raid Khudazal.”

There was a long moment of silence as my words hovered in the air, everyone staring back at me without any reaction, the exceptionally late hour delaying their response. But once my words had a chance to sink in, I saw their eyes begin to widen in both shock and surprise.

“You want to raid what?!” Halcyon exclaimed, the mage the first to find his voice.

“The orcs’ city,” I answered as the others too caught up to my suggestion, the tent erupting with a chorus of murmurs and similar sentiments.

“I know it’s the orc city, Lyr!” he replied forcefully, his demeanor suddenly alert, any traces of his earlier exhaustion having vanished. “It’s just that the very idea of doing that is—”

“Is what, crazy?” I interrupted, having full well expected the incredulous response. “I know it is. But think about what you and Cassius just both said. What is the one thing we could possibly do that we aren’t doing already? Attack. Like you said, right now we’re fixed hard on the defensive as the orcs lick their wounds from the last battle, reacting to every move their scouts make as we try to keep them at bay. Sure, we’re bleeding them as we do that, but we’re doing that on their terms, not ours.”

“We sure are at that,” Cassius agreed, giving me an approving nod as he spoke.

“And you think the solution to fixing that is to try and raid their city?” Halcyon countered. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, that is ballsy and will definitely get their attention, but how exactly do you even plan to do that? First off, we have an army of orcs between us and any route going north. It would be suicide to try and sneak past them.”

“If we were going to sneak past them, I would absolutely agree,” I replied, inclining my head at the man’s point. “But I was thinking more of going around them.”

“Around them?” Halcyon asked, his face narrowing in confusion before a sudden realization hit him. “Shit, wait! You mean you want to cut through the Hartwyld.”

“That is where the city is, isn’t it?” I answered, holding up a hand to stall the next point that I knew was going to follow. “And I know, I don’t exactly expect it to be a safe route either, but I think if we pick the right team, we stand a much better chance of blazing a path through the forest than we would over the plains while trying to dodge both orcs and Dread Crew along the way.”

“And then what would you be looking to do when you got there?” Kilgore asked, causing everyone’s head to shift over towards the elf. “This orc city…it sounds huge from what you’ve described. Not to mention packed completely full of both orcs and arakissi. Any team we send would be wickedly outnumbered.”

“They certainly would be,” I agreed. “But maybe not as much as we would expect. With as many orcs as we have on our doorstep here, the city is likely going to be less defended than it otherwise would be. Or at least that’s my hope.

“As for what our goal would be for the city itself…” I continued, my voice trailing off as I offered the assembled group a shrug, “I’m afraid I don’t know yet. At least not past collecting as much intel as we can once we’re there and making a decision accordingly. One idea I already have, both based on what we saw in the feed and what the Eberian woman we rescued from the construct said, is that the city is completely packed with slaves in addition to our missing settlers. We could potentially look to stage a jailbreak and escape or see if we could cause an open rebellion in the city. But that in itself could very well backfire and see a lot of them killed with little gain.”

“Or see the team we send captured,” Kilgore pointed out, despite nodding in sync with everything I’d said.

“There are a ton of risks,” I acknowledged, having full well considered the scope of the plan that I was proposing and the risks that it entailed. “But it is the best idea that Freya and I have been able to come up with to have us regain some sort of initiative in this overall war, plus to try and get a better sense of what we’re dealing with. If nothing else, finding and laying eyes on the construct we saw them building in the feed would be worth the trip itself. At least then we’ll know where and what it is.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Cassius stated eagerly as he glanced over towards both Berwyn and Kilgore before continuing. “But if we’re going to have a chance at doing this, we’d need to send a team that can move fast and quietly through the Hartwyld, else the creatures in there will tear them apart. After all, there is a reason why neither we nor the Dread Crew has tried to blaze a path through the place yet. It’s a damned dangerous place.”

“That it certainly is,” I agreed. “Which is why I was going to suggest that the team that we send is the eight of us here, save for Freya, who will stay behind to lead the defense and guilds in our absence.”

“And not slow you guys down in my heavy armor,” the woman added, her gauntleted hand coming up to tap once on her breastplate, causing a loud metallic sound to echo out. “I am many things, but in this stuff, fast and quiet isn’t one them. Plus, out of everyone here, I’m best suited to keep things organized from a logistical and planning point of view.”

“Wait, wait, wait, you want us to go too?” Halcyon said, his hand moving to indicate both him and Caius. “The rest of you all, I get—you’re stealthy and quick on your feet. The two of us aren’t quite those things.”

“Hey, speak for yourself there, Hal. I’ve been working hard on improving on that front,” Caius replied, straightening as he spoke. “I like to think that I’ll be able to keep up.”

“We need you both because of your ability to blow shit up with magic if the need arises,” I said, watching the exchange between the two spellcasters. “And also because we’ll more than likely need your magical expertise once we actually get to the city. We don’t know what we’ll find there with regards to the corruption that we’ve seen the orcs wield or the spirits that they seem to be able to call. We’d be counting on you both to spot something out of the ordinary.”

“We can definitely do that, Lyr,” Caius affirmed with a nod. “You can count on us.”

“H-h-hold on,” Halcyon said, his voice breaking as he spoke. “Is…is that it? We’ve just decided that this is going to happen? No one else has anything to say? Come on, Constantine, you have to an opinion on this!”

“Sorry, Hal,” the rogue replied with a shake of his head. “I was on the fence at the beginning too, but Lyr and Freya make a good point. We’re really just biding time, waiting for help to arrive and hoping that the orcs don’t get any reinforcements to push us over the edge before they get here. By doing this, we can at least have some sort of active role in our future, even if it just ends up with us getting eaten by a giant nasty critter in the Hartwyld. We’ll have at least tried something.”

“That’s maybe not quite the vote of confidence that I was looking for, but I suppose I’ll take it,” I said grimly, seeing a flash of resignation pass across Halcyon’s face as he realized his best shot at escaping the trip had failed. “In either case, though, that does give us a good opportunity to open the floor to everyone here. Does anyone have any concerns about us doing this?”

The tent fell silent as we all glanced between one another, everyone looking to see if anyone had something else to say or add about the mission that I’d proposed. But after nearly half a minute of staring at one another without anyone letting out so much as a squeak, I knew that I had my answer.

“All right, then,” I said, breaking the silence. “It seems that we’re all on board with this, which means that we have to iron out some next steps because I was hoping to leave tonight soon as we’re done here to take advantage of the darkness. We’ll also need to bring Aldwin and Veronia into the loop about what we’re planning…and figure out a way to explain how we came up with this idea. Then after that…”

And just like that, we started to plan our raid on Khudazal.

Chapter 32

The Hartwyld

“Ah, shit! It’s turning this way!” I shouted as I ran towards a large fallen tree trunk, the image of both Halcyon and Amaranth on either side me flashing in the corner of my eyes. “Quick get behind—”

A trilling roar interrupted me before I could finish speaking, the violent, bestial cry causing the forest around us to tremble and shake as it sliced through the air, sending anything with an ounce of sense running in the opposite direction.

Which, of course, at the moment very much included us.

“Lyrrrr!” Halcyon called out breathlessly as he ran, his panic and exertion drawing out my name in the process. “It’s looking to do that thing again! I’m starting to hate it when it does that thing!”

“I know! I see it!” I shouted back at the mage as I looked over my shoulder, catching an all-too-familiar scent of ozone that began to fill the air. “Now move faster! We’re almost there!”

Not needing to be told a second time, the mage instantly put on a burst of speed as the three of us closed the final distance between us and our chosen cover, diving behind it the instant that we were close enough to do so. Landing practically on top of one another as we threw ourselves behind the fallen tree, we barely had time to slide to a stop before a flash of blue-white light filled the air, followed a hail of splinters showering us as our cover rapidly began to disintegrate.

“Crap! We’re going to need a shield, Hal!” I called out as I covered my face from the spray of debris, only to hiss loudly as an arcing bolt of electricity leapt out from a growing crack in the wood and connected with my chest. “A-and q-quickly!”

“Just a second!” the mage replied, still out of breath from our run. “I’m casting it now! But it won’t last forever!”

“All we need are five seconds and we’ll be back in there,” I shot back at the man as I twisted my body into a kneeling crouch and reached into my belt pouch, pulling out a pair of healing potions. “If you don’t mind giving us some cover magic along the way, that’d be great!”

“I’ll do my best, Lyr,” Halcyon said as he finished his conjuring and a shield of force appeared just behind our cover, catching the stray sprays of electricity that arced over the now burning tree. “But it just tanked my best nuke like it was a firecracker and didn’t even flinch!”

“The same happened to me! It completely absorbed my Shocking Touch without flinching,” I replied as I finished drinking down my healing potion and moved to offer the second one in my hand to Amaranth, the massive cat tilting his head to the side so I could easily pour it into his mouth. “It’s just a guess, but I think it has spell resistance and elemental immunity to electricity! Try hitting it with a physical damage spell and see if that works any better!”

“Shit, that makes sense! I’ll try that!” he exclaimed, his voice gaining a sudden urgency as the cover separating us from the lightning began to crack and break apart. “Okay! We’re nearly out of time here! Are you two ready yet?”

“Almost!” I called back to the mage as I reached into my belt pouch a second time, this time pulling out a pair of green-hued Battle Potions of Agility. “Three more seconds!”

Thumbing the stoppers off the vials as I spoke, I wasted no time in repeating the same process I’d just completed, drinking down one potion for myself while feeding the other to my familiar.

<You ready to go back into the fight, big guy?> I asked Amaranth as I dropped the two vials to the ground and reached for Splinter, already starting to feel the battle potion’s effects take hold on my body.

<Like a hungry cub seeking the day’s first meal,> the puma replied with a soft growl as he swallowed the potion, his fur rippling in response to its magic. <The beast before us may be large and vicious, but it has yet to feel the sting of my claws and teeth.>

<Then let’s go change that,> I said to the cat as I twisted my feet under me and readied myself to dive back into the action. “All right, Hal, we’re out! Buy us a few seconds if you can!”

Trusting that the mage would handle his end of things, Amaranth and I wasted no time in moving, the cat going one way and me the other as we made to rejoin the ongoing battle.

Which, in this case, was embodied by the massive, emerald-scaled lizard that came into view as I rounded Halcyon’s shield, a column of living lightning pouring free from its mouth.

Having emerged from the depths of the forest with a bone-chilling roar to herald its arrival, the creature was the newest trial of the many that we’d been forced to endure in our trek through the Hartwyld thus far. Measuring well over twenty feet long and half that wide, the twelve-legged serpentine creature had erupted from the forest at near point-blank range, causing us all to freeze in sudden terror as we all saw what looked like a multi-legged, yet wingless dragon bear down on us. Charging into our ranks with the force of a hurricane, the creature ruthlessly took advantage of our open-mouthed shock, sending both Cassius and Theia flying into the forest with a flick of its massive body, a muffled yelp signaling their surprise.

From there, now directly in the middle of our group, the serpentine creature proceeded to send us all scrambling in every direction as it lashed out towards us in a storm of teeth and claws. Rallying as best as we could from the surprise assault, we did our best to retaliate in kind, sending what magic and ranged attacks we could towards it and hoping that it would buy us time to regroup. Unfortunately, our efforts proved to do the exact opposite, instead prompting the rampaging monster to unleash its most potent weapon in the form of lightning breath that seared everything it touched, sending us running for cover.

At least it’s not an actual dragon, I thought wistfully as I activated Alacrity and rushed out at an angle from behind Halcyon’s shield, my eye shifting towards the floating tag that pointed to the creature, identifying it as a [Jadestone Behir – Rare Boss – Level 27]. But I’m not completely sure if that distinction matters much right now. It’s still a big, angry, lightning-breathing lizard, whether it has wings or—ah, shit!

Forced to suddenly cut my train of thought short as I saw the behir’s head slowly begin to twist in my direction, I instinctively threw myself into a forward roll across the hard forest ground, narrowly evading a stream of lightning passing overhead. Completing my tumble, I pushed myself back up onto my feet without losing so much as a step off my stride, my temporarily enhanced agility combined with Alacrity giving me a level of control over my movements that I couldn’t help but envy. But no sooner did I find myself on my feet, I was dodging a second time, this time leaping directly over the stream of lightning as the behir brought its head back for another pass.

“I could really use that covering fire right about now, Hal!” I called out to the mage as I landed from my desperate jump, only to be forced to drop down and roll across the ground once more, the behir’s aim rapidly improving with each second I gave it.

“Hold your horses! I’m working on it!” I heard Halcyon shout back at me a split second before a loud shattering sound filled the air, followed by a pained roar immediately afterward. “There you go! Now it’s my turn to run! Make the most of it!”

Twisting to glance at the creature as I pushed myself back up to my feet after my latest dodge, it only took me an instant to see what the mage had done in order to distract the behir. Where fire and lightning had proven to have little effect against the beast’s scales, Halcyon had resorted to the next element in his repertoire, throwing a large lance made of solid ice at it which finally managed to find a way through its defenses.

And more importantly, at least in my case, interrupting the seemingly endless stream of lightning that had been seconds away from cooking me alive.

“Damn! Great job, Hal!” I called out in appreciation as my eyes landed on the large shard of ice protruding from the behir’s side, its once pristine scales now covered with a layer of both frost and blood. “We can work with that!”

Howling loudly in response to the injury, the behir’s shock only lasted for a split second as its head shifted to inspect the wound, its teeth snapping out to grab the offending spike and tear it free. Crushing the magically conjured ice with a snap of its jaw, the creature wasted no time in turning its attention towards Halcyon, its mouth already beginning to glow once more as its eyes tracked the fleeing mage. Yet before it could spit forth another stream of its lightning breath, its efforts were interrupted by Amaranth’s sudden appearance directly at eye-level, the ætherwarped puma using Blink Strike to instantly close into point-blank range.

Arriving with the full weight of his charge behind him, Amaranth slammed into the raging behir’s head with enough force to send it reeling backward, followed by the creature’s entire body recoiling from the blow. But just making contact with the beast was far from the only thing that my familiar had in mind, his outstretched claws quickly sinking themselves into the behir’s scales as he latched onto the horned creature’s head.

<How have I ever hunted without this magic at my command?> the cat roared in my head with undisguised glee as he proceeded to savage the giant lizard, raking its face and throat with his claws and teeth. <No beast will be able to stand against me any longer!>

Shaking my head at my familiar’s words as I continued to run towards the creature, I briefly considered to temper his confidence before dismissing the thought entirely, knowing that it would only fall on deaf ears during the battle. Instead, I focused my efforts on making the most of the distraction that both Halcyon and Amaranth had provided me and planned my own avenue of attack. So far, the behir had been able to completely dictate the terms of the battle that we’d found ourselves thrust into, and it was past time that we changed that.

Now let’s go figure out how we can do that, I thought as I finally entered into Blink Strike range myself and promptly triggered the spell, instantly crossing the distance separating me from the battle.

Arriving with a flash of magic to announce my presence, I followed Amaranth’s example in my opening attack, reappearing at near point-blank range beside the behir, Splinter’s jagged edge carving a wicked line across what passed for the creature’s chest and shoulder. But that single slice across the behir’s body was all that I had time for in my initial strike, both my momentum and the creature’s own panicked movement as it tried to dislodge Amaranth then taking me along its flank. Evading a pair of claw-tipped legs that threatened to crush me as I rushed along the behir’s twisting side, I slashed out against both of the offending limbs, yet I only managed to draw blood once, thanks to the thick scales armoring it.

Damn, this thing is tough and fast! I exclaimed mentally as I was forced to leap sideways after my successful attack, the lizard’s sinuous body lashing itself in my direction with serpentine grace. Had it not been for all the enhancements coursing through my body, I was almost certain that I would have been crushed, or failing that, hit with enough force to send me sprawling. Whoa! That was too close a call! Time to change things up!

Experience, or better put, painful experience, had long since taught me the dangers of being predictable when facing creatures larger and stronger than myself, especially when the slightest mistake could lead to serious injury. Rapid movement and making the most of my smaller size were the best two tactics that I had in my arsenal to make sure that I didn’t end up becoming a crimson stain on the forest floor. As such, I made sure to lean heavily on them both, using the advantage that my enhanced agility gave me to jump onto the behir’s back, using one of its clawed legs as a convenient set of steps to aid my climb. But as I landed on the lizard’s thrashing back, I saw that I was far from the only one who had learned those lessons, spotting the familiar form of Berwyn already racing along its spine, his trademark punching daggers in either hand.

“Lyrian,” he greeted me in a surprisingly calm voice. “It seems we’ve been expertly ambushed.”

“You could say that again,” I replied in a dry tone as I gestured towards the back of behir’s serpentine neck with Splinter, signaling him to where I was heading next. “Have you seen any of the others?”

“Only Kilgore,” Berwyn answered as we fell into line with one another, the monster’s back more than large enough for us to rush along its length side by side. “I haven’t seen—oh, never mind, there they are now.”

Appearing mid-sentence from the nearby forest to our left was a cloud of blood-red magic that lanced out at the behir before splashing against its scales ahead of us, courtesy of Caius, who was now rushing towards us with Constantine beside him. Slightly behind them and looking a little worse for wear were Theia and Cassius, the pair covered in a mixture of both blood and dirt, no doubt the result of the battle’s initial start.

“Good!” I exclaimed as I glanced in the direction of the party, feeling a surge of relief to see that everyone was still alive and standing. I had no idea how the behir had managed to sneak up on us without any of us spotting it, but the fact that we’d all managed to survive its opening attacks meant that we still had a good chance to beat it. “Then let’s see if we can’t get this battle back onto the right foot.”

Putting on a burst of speed, Berwyn and I ran across the behir’s twisting and thrashing back as best we could, its continuing efforts to dislodge Amaranth from its head causing its body to contort and writhe wildly. Fortunately, however, the movement combined with the relatively short distance that we had to travel wasn’t enough to significantly affect our balance, both Berwyn and I leaping forward to deliver two simultaneous attacks on either side of the creature’s neck.

“Rah!” I exclaimed with a loud grunt afterward as I hit the ground, tucking myself into a graceful roll to lessen the impact and put some distance between me and the now-enraged behir, who promptly let out a bone-chilling cry in response to our attacks.

Well, we’ve definitely pissed it off now! I exclaimed mentally as I completed my tumble and pushed myself back to my feet, quickly spinning to face the creature, eager to see the damage that Berwyn and I had wrought. Yet as I turned towards the beast, I found my attention completely stolen away by the unexpected appearance of the behir’s now bleeding face, the creature having finally managed to dislodge my familiar’s grip.

At a price.

Bearing a violent patchwork of claw and teeth wounds across its face, a steady stream of blood dripped from the massive serpent’s chin, making the twin wounds that Berwyn and I had inflicted on its neck look like minor papercuts in comparison. Regardless of how they looked, however, the array of injuries was still far from enough to tip the battle in our favor as the behir promptly demonstrated, its mouth began to crackle with electricity once more.

“Oh, no, not this time, you overgrown lizard!” Halcyon’s voice shouted a second before a large shard of ice flew into the behir’s open maw, causing it to choke. “We’ve had just enough of you doing that!”

Letting out a loud retch in response to the mage’s timely attack, the building storm of power in the creature’s mouth then promptly vanished, replaced by a stream of frozen blood spraying outwards in every direction as it violently shook its head. Sensing opportunity at the mage’s timely intervention, I promptly launched myself back towards the wounded creature, shouting to the others as I moved.

“Here’s our chance! Hit it as hard as you can!” I exclaimed as I darted in close to the behir and delivered another sweeping cut across its body, followed after by a Flameburst at close range, charring the wound I’d inflicted until it turned completely black.

Following suit on my heels was the remainder of the party as we all proceeded to pile on the behir, attacking it with a savage frenzy from every direction, the battle then turning into a blur. In one moment I saw Cassius appear beside me with both of his battleaxes in hand, the powerfully built Eberian scout going on to deliver a series of punishing blows, the lizard’s hard jade scales doing little to stop him. Then in the next instant, I was beside both Constantine and Amaranth, the three of us working briefly in tandem to allow the rogue to deliver a punishing strike with one of his poison-coated blades, courtesy of his newfound alchemical vocation. From there, we were all forced to scatter as the now raging behir turned its full attention on us, prompting a series of desperate dodges where we were lucky to escape with only minor to moderate injuries.

Yet while we braved the dangers of fighting up close and personal with the behir, our spellcasters and ranged attackers contributed no less than we did, distracting, hindering, and wounding the mighty beast wherever and however they could. In the case of Theia, that support came in the form of her shamanistic magic, which worked to slow and dull both the beast’s mind and reflexes, allowing us to stay just one step ahead of it or healing us when we failed. After her, there was both Halcyon and Caius, the mage and warlock’s role taking up a notably less subtle position in the overall battle, the pair raining down a steady stream of devastating magic, greatly injuring the beast. In the case of Caius, his efforts were further bolstered by his array of newly learned curses and hexes, which caused the behir to howl in pain. Then, not to be left out, was Kilgore, the elf making deadly use of his massive greatbow to launch a steady stream of arrows into the fray, each of them finding their mark with the fury of a lightning strike behind them.

Staggering from under our coordinated assault it was all the behir could do to weather our combined attacks, painfully realizing that what it had thought would be an easy meal was, in fact, anything but and that it was now in for the fight of its life. Howling loudly, it didn’t take long for the beast to adjust to the situation, its movements and behavior becoming frenzied and enraged as it attacked us with renewed fervor.

“Heads up, everyone! Now it’s really ang—oof!” I heard Constantine start to call out as the behir’s shrieking scream split the air, causing us all to reflexively wince at its volume. But before the rogue could finish his warning, the serpentine creature’s tail lashed itself forward with an unexpected surge of speed, slamming into him with enough force to wind him while simultaneously wrapping itself around him. Lifting him off the ground a second later, the behir then swung its tail from side to side through the air around it, using the man as an impromptu club to attack us with.

“Hang on, Constantine!” I called out, narrowly managing to duck under the man’s legs as they sailed over my head. “I’m coming!”

“You say that like I have a choice!” he shouted back at first in an angry tone, only to rapidly shift into a pained one as he continued speaking. “Ah, shit, just hurry! It’s trying to crush me!”

Moving without hesitation, I didn’t waste another second in rushing to the rogue’s aid, my feet taking me along the creature’s side as I sprinted after the flailing tail. As I did, I saw the others also begin to react to the battle’s sudden change in pace, either scrambling to avoid being hit by Constantine or evading the behir’s wrath itself as it continued to claw and bite at everything within range.

Let’s hope that I can time this right! I exclaimed mentally as I worked myself into a sprint, Alacrity’s hasting effects giving me the time I needed to study the tail’s movements. Adjusting my pace as I ran, I waited until I saw the appendage begin to swing its way back towards me, then leapt forward into the air while simultaneously triggering Blink Strike. Here we go!

Reappearing in the air with a flash of magic, I barely had the time to process my sudden shift in location before I was cutting into the behir’s tail as it passed just above me, Splinter’s jagged edge biting deep into its scaley surface. Then as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, as my momentum carried me past the tail and back down towards the ground where I landed in a roll on the far side of the creature. Wasting no time as I came to a stop, I sprang back up to my feet the first opportunity I could and turned to look back toward the behir, only to see its massive maw suddenly fill my vision as it descended directly down on top of me, the creature having somehow managed to twist its body in response to my attack with blinding speed.

“Oh, shit!” I exclaimed in a sudden panic, feeling my eyes go wide as I gazed directly into the open mouth and the countless teeth within. Immediately, my brain began to shout at me to move my feet backward in a desperate attempt to evade the snapping teeth. But before I could even begin to listen to my inner voice and start to move, I saw a flash of light appear out of the corner of my eye, followed by something heavy slamming into my left side. Letting out a gasp as it did so, the impact hit me with enough force to completely knock the wind out of me and send me sprawling across the ground.

“Ugh,” I wheezed as I landed heavily on my side and slid across the ground, the unexpected blow stunning me and causing my vision to turn into one big blur. Sucking in a deep breath, I did my best to shake off the hit and refocus on my surroundings, my heart suddenly leaping in my chest as I saw the behir’s head begin to rise, a familiar azure-furred form in its mouth.

“Shit, Amaranth!” I called out with renewed panic as I moved to scramble to my feet, instantly realizing that my familiar had teleported to my side just in time knock me out of the way of the creature’s attack. Unfortunately, however, by doing that, he had placed himself directly into the beast’s path and was caught in the bite that had been destined for me.

<Rah!> Amaranth exclaimed with a mental roar as the behir lifted his thrashing body higher into the air, the cat managing to twist enough in the creature’s mouth to send a raking claw across its battle-scarred face. <Do not worry about me! Slay the beast! It cannot withstand our might much longer!>

Letting out a vicious snarl in response to my familiar’s attack, Amaranth then promptly flew out of range as the behir began to thrash its head from side to side while continuing to bite down on his armored body.

<I’ll move as fast as I can!> I promised as I reached my feet, silently grateful for my decision to armor the cat as heavily as I did. However, despite that protection, I knew that there was no way that it would be able to withstand the behir’s teeth for long, regardless of what Amaranth told me.

“It’s about time we killed this thing!” I shouted out to the group as I forced my still aching body to move, my eye belatedly turning towards the lizard’s tail to assess the damage that I’d done in my attempt to free Constantine.

Only to find myself staring at a partial stump that spurted blood every time that it thrashed through the air.

Wait, did I do that? I asked myself as I stared at the severed appendage with wide eyes. But that momentary wonder only lasted for an instant until I saw Cassius rush into view from behind the behir, both of his axes, along with the majority of his body, covered in blood.

“Aim for its legs!” the man shouted as he rounded the multi-limbed creature and followed through on his words, bringing down one of his weapons on what passed for a knee on one of its claw-tipped appendages. “It can’t attack us if it can’t move!”

Propelled by what I assumed had to be battle-potion-enhanced strength, I saw Cassius’s axe bite deep into the behir’s leg with enough force to cause it to bend awkwardly. But the man didn’t stop there with his efforts, bringing his second axe down on the heels of the first, the impact stressing the limb beyond what it could take, resulting in a loud bone-shattering crunch to echo through the air. Caught watching the man’s efforts as I struggled to get my body moving, I saw the crippled limb instantly go limp as it folded under the behir’s massive weight, the creature letting out pained, whining roar in response.

Inspired by the sight, it was all that I needed in order to rush back into the fray as I moved to follow Cassius’s example, my lungs desperately sucking in what air I could to fuel my efforts. As I did, I saw both Constantine and Berwyn appear to also follow the scout’s lead, the pair moving to attack another set of the behir’s legs together with similar results. But where Cassius had managed to injure the limb with sheer strength, the two attacked with deadly precision, slicing and stabbing at the muscles and tendons that gave it strength.

Which is what I’ll have to try and do too, I realized as I triggered Blink Strike once again, reappearing directly behind the behir’s forward-most leg where I lunged forward to deliver a sweeping overhead slash with Splinter. Empowered by the magic of the spell, the jagged blade carved a wicked line across the scales armoring the limb and through the flesh beneath, giving me an initial starting point to work from. Fueled by the urgency of my trapped familiar, I followed the opening attack with two more in rapid succession, further widening the wound that I’d made. By the time my third strike landed, it was a much more measured and precise blow, the familiar mantra that I’d been reciting for the last day beginning to echo through my mind.

Focus wholly on your opponent’s defense, their movements, their patterns, their very way of thinking, I mentally recited as I checked my rapid strikes and instead focused on single methodical ones with Splinter, aiming the blade at the gaping wound that I’d created. Where you will seek a single flaw, a brief sliver in time where they are laid bare and most vulnerable. Then, when that instant is presented, strike entirely without fear or reservation in your mind, guiding the fullness of your weapon towards the battle’s end.

The brief mantra was all that I’d been able to glean from one of the feeds that Freya and I had watched the previous night, specifically the one belonging to the half-elf fighting in the arena who had struck down his opponent with a single blow. After a bit of research through his posted feed, I learned that the ability he’d used had been one called Perfect Strike and that he had, in fact, learned it from one of the local gladiator instructors. More than eager to add the powerful ability to my repertoire, I’d done everything I could in the time I had to memorize what I’d seen in the player’s feed. But despite my best efforts to find it, the full training process hadn’t been posted by the player—what was available offering me only brief snippets to learn and improvise from. So that had been exactly what I’d done from the first moment that we’d set off into the Hartwyld, mirroring the motions that I’d seen in the feed in the hopes that I’d be able to teach the ability to myself.

Unfortunately, as with all the other attempts that had preceded it, this time was no different as I slashed out with Splinter, the blade simply carving deeper into the wound that I’d already made. But for what the attacks I landed lacked in allowing me to learn the new ability, they made up for in causing the behir’s leg to suddenly buckle as I cut through a thick tendon, the limb going completely limp. Turning away from the now crippled leg I rushed towards the next one in line behind it and proceeded to repeat the same tactic once more.

Of course, the behir was far from idle during our efforts to maim it, the creature stomping and twisting in an attempt to claw and crush us. But despite its best efforts, it had finally reached its limits and had begun to slow down. So it was then, when Berwyn leapt onto its back once more and began to sprint up its spine towards its head, that all it was able to do in its defense was weakly thrash in an attempt to dislodge him. Such a feeble effort, however, was far from enough to dislodge the running monk, and he quickly managed to reach the behir’s neck, leaping into the air to attack.

Yet unlike the previous attack that he’d followed through with me earlier in the battle, this time Berwyn didn’t move to strike with the weapons he held in his hands. Instead, he led with a powerful flying kick, a golden aura of magic briefly surrounding his foot before it slammed into the side of the behir’s head. But despite the apparent ferocity of the blow and burst of auric energy that followed it, the creature showed no signs of even feeling the attack, Berwyn’s momentum taking him back towards the ground.

However, that didn’t mean that his attack hadn’t been successful.

Freezing instantly as the man’s kick had landed, the behir’s thrashing movements instantly stopped as its body took on an unnatural stillness, its muscles suddenly locking themselves in place. With its wailing roar suddenly dying in its throat, the stunned creature hung in place for a pair of heartbeats before its weight shifted in the direction of its injured legs.

“Everyone out of the way!” I shouted as the behir began to fall, prompting all of us to rush out from under it, lest we end up getting crushed. “It’s coming down!”

Continuing to list with increasing speed, it didn’t take long for the beast to tip over and complete its journey towards the ground, causing it to rumble beneath our feet as it landed with a crash.

“Here’s our chance!” Cassius shouted as we all watched the behir fall. “Now kill it!”

Not needing to be told twice, we all then fell upon the now prone and defenseless beast, taking advantage of its temporarily paralyzed state to attack it without mercy. Proving to be the edge that we needed in order to put an end to the battle, there was little that the behir could do to resist us once Berwyn’s timely strike finally wore off and it regained its ability to move. Scarred by countless wounds across its blood-covered body, the creature was able to put up a brief, token resistance as it struggled to rise back to its feet, only to have its efforts finally put to an end by Amaranth, who had since escaped from its maw.

Leaping directly upwards as the behir attempted to rise, he sank both his teeth and claws into the creature’s throat, effortlessly puncturing through the scales armoring the vital arteries beneath. Then with a mighty display of his prestigious strength, he proceeded to tear it out entirely, causing a torrent of blood to burst free. Gurgling and wheezing from the mortal wound, it was finally more than the massive lizard could take, the creature falling back towards the ground, a final shudder passing through its body before it fell completely still. Panting and wheezing from the exhausting and completely unexpected battle, we all simply stared at the creature for several seconds without saying anything, each of us trying to catch our breaths.

All of us, except for Amaranth.

Leaping on top of the fallen behir the second that it stopped moving, the battle-worn cat struck a dominant pose as he turned to look at us, his eyes wide and eager.

<What a mighty hunt!> he announced to me with a triumphant roar that echoed through the forest around us. Lasting for several seconds as he shouted out his victory, the cat’s cry eventually came to an end with his attention landing firmly onto me as he did so, an eager question filtering into my mind.

<Now which of us shall have the honor of taking the first bite of the creature?>

Chapter 33

“Hang on a second. Tell me again just exactly what you found?” I asked, feeling my heart still thundering in my chest from what I thought I’d just heard. “Because I swear I just heard you say that you found a ‘ruin’ of some sort out here, and I’m going to be a little annoyed if that’s a prank.”

“It’s definitely not a prank,” Kilgore assured, a faint smile creeping across his expression as he looked at me. “And we were just as surprised as you when we found it. Turns out that’s where our little beasty here has been nesting when it isn’t trying to ambush innocent travelers. We followed its tracks pretty much straight to it.”

“Huh, I see,” I grunted, my eye glancing over towards the bloody patch of ground that the elf had indicated while speaking, the spot marking where the behir’s body had lain before dissipating away. Needing time to recover in the immediate aftermath of our battle with the creature, we’d decided that it would be a good idea for the three Hallowguarde guildmembers to scout the area ahead of us before we all resumed our journey. The last thing that any of us wanted was to run into another one of the giant lizards, or better yet, have it run into us.

But instead of finding more of creatures lying in wait for us, it seemed that the others had found us an unexpected mystery to explore.

“Were you guys able to figure out what sort of ruin it is, by chance?” I asked in a curious voice, turning to look back at the scout.

“Uh, you mean a partially destroyed one?” Kilgore replied, his earlier grin at our excitement shifting into an unsure expression.

“That’s not what he means,” Halcyon said in an exceptionally eager tone. “Do you guys know if it’s Nafarrian built? Or maybe Irovian? Or even something else entirely? I mean, it’s probably Irovian given that it’s here in the Hartwyld and what we know of the region’s lore, but if it isn’t, then whoa, that’s going change a lot of our thinking.”

“Um,” the grey-haired half-elf hedged, his eyes growing wide from under Halcyon’s rapid onslaught of words. “So it’s made of stone and looks pretty beaten up. Uh, is this a bad time to tell you guys I haven’t been to any of those ruins that you guys found or watched all of your feeds yet? I left it for the others to worry about.”

“No,” I said, chuckling at the man’s sudden hesitation. “We just always tend to get excited whenever we have a chance to find a new set of ruins to explore.”

“I can tell,” Kilgore replied, giving each of us standing around him a brief glance before ending up back on me. “Well, how about I escort you all there, then maybe you can figure out what we’re dealing with once you have a chance to look around a bit?”

“I think that sounds like a plan,” I agreed before turning my attention back to the items that I’d been sorting through right when the elf had returned. “We’re just about finished sorting out the loot that the behir dropped, so we can be ready to go soon as we’ve finished dividing it all up to carry.”

“That works for me,” Kilgore replied, his voice going on to take on an eager tone. “Did it manage to drop anything decent for us?”

“The usual ‘beasty’ things as these things go. So lots of bone, scales, teeth, and meat for us to find a use for once we’re back at Aldford and can craft them into something useful,” I answered while motioning for the scout to take a look at the pile nearby. As he did, I also used the opportunity to take a closer look myself, running one final inventory of the items in my mind as their descriptions appeared in my vision.

Jadestone Behir Scale

Quantity: 320

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Weight: 90 kg

Jadestone Behir Teeth

Quantity: 60

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Weight: 5 kg

Jadestone Behir Claw

Quantity: 60

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Weight: 15 kg

Jadestone Behir Bone

Quantity: 200

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Weight: 200 kg

Jadestone Behir Meat

Quantity: 400

Weight: 150 kg

Greater Essence of Tenacity

Quantity: 1

Item Class: Magical

Weight: N/A

“Huh, so I see,” Kilgore replied as he looked over the similar array of animal parts that we’d long grown accustomed to seeing whenever we killed a large beast, along with yet another essence that we still had no idea how to make use of. “That is…a lot of meat and bones. Are we even going to be able to carry all of that with us?”

“Barely,” I said, having done the mental math of spreading the loot between everyone in the party, which even then was only possible due to the enhanced strength we enjoyed as adventurers. “Thankfully, we’re all traveling fairly light as a whole and can spare the inventory space, else we’d have to leave some of it behind.”

“Well, I guess that’s good,” the elf commented, turning away from the pile of behir parts and back towards me. “And if nothing else, the meat should be a good change of pace from those muffins we’ve been eating. They’re pretty filling and all, but I’m more than ready for some variety.”

“That’s…true,” I said in a carefully even voice, the memory of Freya giving us each a bag filled with [Mystery Muffins] as we readied to depart still fresh in my mind. Unfortunately, we’d left too fast afterward for me to ask her just where exactly she managed to get the food and if they contained what I thought they did.

Though judging by the wide smile I saw on her face as she handed them to me, I doubted that I would have received an honest answer had I managed to do so.

“Erm, anyway,” I continued, letting out a small cough as I turned to look towards the group nearby. “What do you all say? Are we ready to see these ruins the others found?”

“And how,” Constantine replied without missing a beat. “We weren’t exactly quiet in killing this thing, and I’d really want to be on my way before something comes looking to see what happened. One life or death battle in a day is enough for me thanks.”

“I’ll second that,” Theia agreed in a quiet tone, her voice shaking as she spoke. “I’m still a little anxious after that thing came rushing out of the brush right on top of me. I have a feeling that I’ll be jumping at shadows for days now…”

“I can appreciate that,” Kilgore said in a gentle tone as he shifted his attention towards the lizardwoman. “But if it makes you feel better, our route is pretty clear as a whole, save for a few smaller critters here and there. Our big guy chased away pretty much everything else.”

“After the night and day that we’ve had so far, we’ll take any break that we can get,” I stated, motioning for us to get moving. “Now let’s go see about those ruins you told us. That means you too, Amaranth. You can finish eating along the way.”

<Hrm, very well,> the cat grumbled from his nearby spot on the ground where he had sprawled out to devour the massive flank of behir meat that I’d given him. Picking up the large hunk of meat in his mouth as he stood, he made to follow us with his tail held high in the air. <I could use a moment for my stomach to settle anyway.>

With nothing left for us at the battle site and each of us ready to keep moving, we all divided the various beast parts between us and set off deeper into the Hartwyld, following Kilgore as he led the way.

“I don’t suppose maybe we can use these ruins as a bit of place to rest and maybe catch a nap once we get there, can we?” Caius asked in a hopeful if exhausted tone once we’d started to move. “I don’t know about you guys, but I’m just about dying from lack of sleep here, to the point where I can barely see straight. I won’t even lie either. When that behir first attacked us, I thought I was hallucinating about the Beast at first. It took me a few seconds to realize that I wasn’t.”

“I’ll second the need for a break,” Constantine chimed in right behind the warlock. “We’ve been moving for close to…what, fourteen hours now since we left Valor’s Point? And that’s on top of the whole of yesterday. I feel that we’ve hit the limit on what those cat naps we’ve been cycling through in reality are able to do for us. We need real rest, or the next hungry critter that jumps us might end up winning.”

“And that would really suck,” I said, wholeheartedly agreeing with the pair as my own exhaustion weighed heavily on me now that battle was over and I’d managed to come down from the adrenaline rush.

Which, much like Constantine had said, wasn’t a surprise by any means considering how long and far that we’d traveled over the previous night and following day.

We’d all left Valor’s Point in the extremely early hours of the morning after finishing our bare-bones planning session and updating both Veronia and Aldwin on our decision to raid Khudazal. Unfortunately, with the in-game filters blocking us from being able to explain what we’d seen in the feed, that conversation had proven to be a little difficult at first, forcing us to be a bit creative with our sudden need to depart. But as we laid out the plan that we’d come up with, the pair quickly came around to our line of thinking, agreeing that a strike against the orc city would do well to change the stalemate that we’d found ourselves in. Promising to manage the defense of Valor’s Point along with Freya as best as they could until we returned, the pair then wished us luck and saw us off as we departed the base.

Making great time as we crossed the plains with Spirit of the Wild aiding our efforts, it was less than an hour after that before we found ourselves in the Hartwyld and began to blaze a path through the brush. Moving under the cover of darkness, we made reasonably good progress at first, the few nocturnal creatures that crossed our path proving either to be of little challenge to us or being smart enough to stay out of way. The only real worry that we encountered at the start of our journey were two roving orc bands that very nearly discovered us as we worked our way deeper into the forest. But thanks to a healthy dose of both luck and patience, we were able to avoid discovery until we made our way far enough east and escaped the area they were patrolling. It was there that our journey truly began as we angled our path northward and made our way deeper into the true heart of the Hartwyld.

And, of course, the creatures that lived within.

Relying on our speed and stealth to avoid whatever conflicts that we could, and our strength and magic when we couldn’t, the hours slowly passed as we steadily ground our way forward. The only times that our steady grind was broken was when one of us managed to gain a level on our journey, the plentiful number of creatures in our path eventually allowing all of us to hit level twenty-seven. But as the night wore on, the wild animals in the forest weren’t the only challenges that we had to face, exhaustion and sleep deprivation working to dull both our bodies and minds. So in order to combat that particular obstacle and make the most of the limited time that we had to reach Khudazal before the orcs inevitably attacked Valor’s Point again, we began to take sleep shifts, logging back out into reality for brief naps.

Working with somewhat mixed effectiveness, the tactic allowed us to make the most of our avatar’s permanence in the world of Ascend Online, effectively allowing a few of us to rest at a time while we still continued to move. We found out however that there were still limits to what our characters and our minds could both endure, the strange mix of ‘rested fatigue’ taking its own toll the longer that we traveled. In either case, however, it allowed us to travel much farther and for longer than we would have been able to otherwise, reducing the need for us to find a place to stop and rest until we’d absolutely reached our limits.

Which, as this last battle had just shown us, we finally had.

“Assuming that the ruins are a safe enough place to camp out for a bit, I think we can afford to rest there for a few hours,” I said as my swirling thoughts came to an end, silently hoping that my words came true. “If nothing else, it’ll give us better cover than just finding a spot to hole up in elsewhere in the forest.”

“Fantastic!” Caius replied with visible relief. “In that case, let’s start moving double time. The sooner we can get there, the sooner I can find a nice soft rock to lie my head on and pass out.”

Despite receiving a chorus of snorts and chuckles in response to his words, no one disagreed with the dark elf’s sentiment, our pace through the forest quickening as Kilgore continued to lead us towards the ruins he’d found.

I think Halcyon has to be right, I thought as we moved, my eyes keeping a careful watch of our surroundings for unexpected threats. Given that the old Irovian tower isn’t too far away from here, at least as the crow flies, and Khudazal is somewhere farther ahead of us, it’d make sense if this ruin we’re heading to is also Irovian. But at the same time, the Nafarr had claim to this region long before their war with the dark elves even began. I wonder why we haven’t seen any other ruins of theirs this far north. Maybe they were all destroyed in the war afterward? Or did they just not settle here for some reason?

Feeling more questions continue to bubble up in my mind as we moved, the journey towards the ruin passed quickly and without note, Kilgore’s words about the area being sparsely populated by creatures proving to be exceptionally true. That particular change proved to be an exceptionally welcome one for our tired souls, giving us a chance to simply move without worry and enjoy the forest around us.

“Okay, this is the part where you need to keep a sharp eye out for any Hartwyld vipers that you might see hiding in the brush,” Kilgore warned at one point, his voice bringing our wandering thoughts back into the moment. “The ones I’ve seen so far have all been level twenty-two, and they aren’t particularly hard to fight, but they have a venom that really hurts. I’m talking about two hundred to three hundred points of damage kind of hurt, per bite.”

“Noted,” Constantine replied, prompting a grunt of agreement from everyone. “Are they fairly common or rarer to spot?”

“I’d say rarer from what I’ve seen on both my treks so far, but they’re also the only creature I’ve seen in this area,” the half-elf answered with a shake of his head. “Given how small they are, I’m thinking that the behir probably ignored them as a food source and went after bigger creatures—enough so that it cleaned this area out completely. Once we get closer to the ruins, eventually even the vipers will disappear.”

“Hrm, so the big lizard must have been here for a while,” I said, glancing out into the trees briefly before a thought caused me to turn my attention back towards Kilgore. “Do you think there is more than one of them to worry about?”

“I have no idea,” the elf replied shaking his head. “I haven’t seen anything that would make me think there is more than one of them…but at the same time, I didn’t see the behir either until it jumped out and tried to eat us. It’d take a fair bit of bushwhacking going down the various tracks leading out from the ruins to be sure it’s the only one, and even then we could still end up missing it.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna say hard pass on that,” Halcyon stated. “After what we’ve been through so far to get here, I prefer to keep my extracurricular bushwhacking to a minimum. As it is, I’m already starting to get flashbacks of the Twilight Grove the longer that we’re in this forest.”

“Pfft,” Constantine grunted. “This place doesn’t have anything on the Grove—it’s actually nice and quiet for the most part. Peaceful, even. Hell, clear out a few spots here in the nicer parts of the forest and we could sell it to people as being Aldford’s cottage country.”

“Sure, sure,” Halcyon replied, adding an ominous note to his voice. “That’s just what the game wants you to think as it lures you into a false sense of security and you let down your guard. Then the next thing you know…boom! You’re being eaten by some sort of adventurer-eating Venus flytrap, or something equally ridiculous.”

“Well, isn’t someone feeling cheery today,” I commented dryly. “You really think we’re going to get eaten by a plant?”

“Either that or fall into quicksand,” Caius suggested, joining in on the conversation. “After that behir ambushed us from nowhere, you can just never know what the day will bring.”

“Actually, you guys know what a day brings?” Kilgore asked while glancing over his shoulder towards the two spellcasters. “Nice quiet walks through the forest where no one talks. How about we do that for a little while now?”

With everyone chuckling as our banter wound down, we allowed the elf to continue leading us towards the ruins, falling into a companionable silence. Along the way, I spotted three of the aforementioned Hartwyld vipers that he’d warned us about, one of them falling prey to a still hungry Amaranth, the cat pouncing on and killing the snake before it could even react. But aside from that single distraction, the trip was peaceful and quiet, allowing us to focus on traveling through the sometimes exceptionally dense underbrush.

Eventually, the trees around us began to thin, and the sound of water began to reach our ears, prompting us to move a little bit faster in anticipation of what was ahead. Shortly afterward, the trees around us almost gave way completely, and we found ourselves entering a sparsely covered meadow, complete with a large lake in the distance. A small, rocky beach lined the edges of the water, providing a thin buffer before what unmistakably was once a road appeared, its broken and overgrown path having largely been reclaimed by nature. Beyond the shoreline itself and into the meadow, there were stretches of lush grass intermixed with smaller bushes and plants, giving the place a rather idyllic and picturesque feel. But despite the serenity and peacefulness of the scene, our eyes were drawn to the larger ruins that sprawled out farther into the clearing ahead.

“And here we are,” Kilgore announced, not bothering to raise a hand to indicate the ruined structures in the distance, no doubt already sensing that our eyes were already fixed on them. “Cassius and Berwyn are already there poking around.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Halcyon asked excitedly without breaking his stride as he continued to walk towards the ruins, all of us following a few strides behind. “That’s where we need to be, too!”

Chapter 34

Standing, or perhaps more appropriately crumbling, near the edges of the lake stood the remains of several darkly colored stone structures partially covered in various layers of leafy vines and lichen. Age combined with weather had taken a severe toll on the structures, the few surfaces that I could see uncovered by the plants having been brushed nearly smooth, whatever decoration or adornment they might have once borne having since been lost to time. But despite the serene tranquility of the scene ahead of us, I could see that violence had once touched all of the structures before us, seriously damaging them, if not knocking them completely askew.

“Wow, this is a lot bigger than anything I was expecting,” I commented as we got closer to what we soon identified as Irovian ruins, each of us finally getting a sense of both their scale and the damage that they had suffered. “And yikes, some of these buildings sure look like they’ve had better days, or maybe even centuries. I’m surprised this one here is even standing.”

Topping out at what could be considered a generous thirty feet, the tallest still standing ruin accordingly looked to be the most damaged, as little more than the outside walls of the once tall square-like building remained intact. Neighboring it at about twenty feet in height stood a second ruin stretching nearly thirty feet in length, its walls looking in much better shape and even having a portion of its roof, or possibly what had once been an upper floor, still intact.

“You could say that again,” Constantine agreed from beside me as we continued to walk, our gaze angling itself towards another pair of buildings nearby, seeing that they had both collapsed into one another, a good portion of their lower foundations nowhere to be seen. It was difficult to tell just how tall either of them might have once been during their prime, but all that remained now could be best described as a ten-foot mountain of rubble. “This…city? Or maybe town? Whatever it once was, definitely looks like there was a battle fought here—hell, maybe even a whole war judging from the damage.”

“Hey, are those friendly voices I hear?” Cassius’s voice called out as we continued to walk through the ruined promenade, the tall and muscular Eberian stepping out of the tall rectangular building’s entryway. “Ah! Great! You guys are finally here! Like what you’ve seen so far?”

“And how!” Halcyon exclaimed, waving a hand at all the ruins. “I wasn’t sure what to expect when Kilgore first told us about what you’d found, but it really wasn’t this. I was thinking it’d be a building or two…not this.”

“I feel that,” the man replied with a nod. “We were pretty surprised too when we suddenly found this place. Though I have to say, it is a whole lot better than an entire nest of those behirs.”

“That it definitely is,” Halcyon agreed, the mage continuing to glance around his surroundings as he spoke. “I don’t even know where to begin exploring here. There’s just so much.”

“Well, while I haven’t yet been able to take a look around at everything here just yet, I think I can offer you guys a starting point,” Cassius offered, a hand coming up to wave at the building he’d exited. “Berwyn and I found a couple interesting things in here that I think you should all see.”

“Oh?” the mage asked excitedly. “What is it?”

“The behir’s nest for one,” Cassius answered. “I don’t know what this place might have once been in the past, but it sure made itself a pretty big home inside what’s left of this building here.”

“And what about the second?” I queried, narrowly beating Halcyon who was about to voice the same question.

“Yeah…that one is actually a little hard to explain,” the tall Eberian replied, an uncertain look coming across his face as he spoke along with his voice dropping an octave in volume. “We found a room farther underground in here, past the nest—”

“Wait, there’s an underground part here too?” Halcyon interrupted, barely able to contain himself as a renewed surge of excitement entered his voice. “Is it anything like the ruins at Crater Lake? Or maybe like the Irovian tower?”

“Uh, no, it’s nothing like what you found there,” Cassius replied, shaking his head as he answered the question. “And it’s just a single room with…uh, I don’t even know. Honestly, it’s probably better that I show it to you guys, rather than try and explain it. Come on, Berwyn is down there now, and we can stop at the nest along the way.”

Waving for us to follow him, Cassius turned to lead us back the way he’d just come from, with all of us eagerly following on his heels. As we moved, at first through a small hallway before entering into a larger, partially collapsed chamber, the man continued to give us a rough overview of his and Berwyn’s exploration so far.

“So, after making sure that these ruins were completely abandoned, we did a rough search of the area, and it looks like the behir has been the only living thing that’s made its home here in recent memory,” he explained as he led us into the rubble and dirt-filled interior of the ruin. “Neither of us have spotted any signs of fires, makeshift shelters, or really anything else that would show anyone’s settled here in a long, long time.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I said thoughtfully as I glanced around the ruined chamber for anything of interest, my eye landing on a large hole in the wall on the opposite side of the room. Leading directly to the outside, I was able to see several claw marks along both the ground leading to it as well as along the wall itself, no doubt from the behir’s comings and goings. “This place isn’t exactly convenient to get to, being where it is. Plus, given what it tried to do to us, I can’t imagine that our scaly friend was exactly inviting if he happened to find a few orcs in his path.”

“I’m thinking that he definitely wasn’t,” Cassius agreed as we came to a stop roughly in the center of the chamber, directly in front of a large set of stone stairs leading to a level below us. “And I’m also thinking that it was more than just a few orcs he found in his path, among other things.”

“You do?” Constantine asked in a confused voice. “I thought you said that you didn’t see any signs of anyone being here.”

“Actually, I said that we didn’t see any signs of living things here,” the scout replied, offering the rogue a tight smile before he turned to descend down the open stairway. “Or at least I sure hope they weren’t living for long.”

Sensing that there were hidden depths to the man’s words, none of us said anything as we moved to follow him down the stairs, simply exchanging a series of blank glances with one another. Fortunately, none of us had to wait long to discover exactly what Cassius had meant as the lower level started to come into view.

“A-are t-those…bones?” I whispered halfway through our descent as the floor at the end of stairs finally came into view, its surface completely covered with countless grey-white shapes of various sizes.

“They are,” Cassius confirmed, the rest of our short journey passing in silence until we all reached the lower level—and, by extension, the behir’s nest.

Filled with bones as far as any of us could see, the entire chamber was best described as a charnel house, the vague, musty smell of rotting meat and excrement slowly wafting up to greet our arrival. Vaguely rectangular in nature, at least where it hadn’t collapsed, the behir had made use of the entire place to display its hunting prowess, piling crushed and half-eaten bones along its outer edges. Yet for all its impact on us, the ghastly décor surrounding the room itself was a minor feature when compared to the bed that the creature had made for itself. Shaped into a wide bowl at the far side of the room, enough so that the behir would easily be able to coil itself into, was a particularly large mound of crushed and shattered bones. Enough so that it almost completely blocked a smaller doorway behind it at the farthest reaches of the chamber.

“Well…isn’t this place cheery,” Constantine said in a hushed voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many bones before. And I kinda hope that I never do again. This is…just…whoa.”

“Whoa is right,” Caius agreed as we all slowly fanned out into the room and continued to take in our surroundings. “By the looks of it, our guy here was a pretty vicious hunter and here for a very long time.”

<Until he attempted to prey upon something with sharper teeth than he possessed himself,> Amaranth said to me in a cool voice as he explored the room, one of his paws reaching out to bat at a skull lying on the floor and sending it rolling.

“Or at least I’d sure hope so,” Halcyon said, adding onto the warlock’s statement. “If it ate this much in a short time…then yikes.”

“Rest assured that I don’t think that’s the case,” Cassius said, reaching into a bag on his hip as he spoke. “Because after Berwyn and I found the place and had a bit of a look around, we managed to find a few interesting things here scattered in the bone and they all look to be pretty old. Like really, really old.”

“What kind of interesting things?” I asked, my curiosity unable to help but be piqued as I saw the man pull out a piece of bone that vaguely resembled a knife, the blade portion of the weapon appearing extremely damaged. “Wait, is that…”

“A relic, yeah,” the scout affirmed, shifting the bone knife into his other hand and reaching back into his bag for a second time. “Like I said earlier, I’m pretty sure that the behir found more than its fair share of orcs…or whatever else that might have lived in this forest at one point in time because Berwyn and I both found quite a few items here buried among the bones.”

Rushing to gather around the man, we all then promptly forgot about the behir’s nest as Cassius began to pull a variety of items out from his inventory, passing them one at a time for us to inspect. Having positioned myself near the man, I fortunately didn’t need to wait long until the items came my way, their descriptions appearing one by one in my vision.

Shattered Bone Longsword

Item Class: Relic

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Strength: +15 Agility: +15

Shattered Bone Dagger

Item Class: Relic

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Strength: +15 Agility: +15

Shattered Bone Staff

Item Class: Relic

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Intelligence: +15 Willpower: +15

Ring of Shielding

Class: Relic

Item Slot: Ring

Use: When activated, this ring allows its wearer to channel a 2000-hit-point Force Shield in the direction that the ring is facing for up to 30 seconds, after which its energy will be depleted and require time to recharge. Whenever not in use, the ring will slowly regain its strength over the course of ten minutes depending on how fully it has been depleted. Due to the magic empowering this ring, it requires three free ring slots on a hand to function.

Ring of Healing

Item Class: Relic

Item Slot: Ring

Use: When activated, this ring enhances all healing magic channeled through it, increasing its effects by 25% for the next 30 seconds, after which its energy will be depleted and will slowly recharge itself over the course of five minutes. Due to the magic empowering this ring, it requires three free ring slots on a hand to function.

Ring of Force

Item Class: Relic

Item Slot: Ring

Use: When activated, this ring allows the wielder to channel a wave of force outwards from the object in three different ways. First, as a weaker blast force in every direction around them that deals minor damage to those affected and shoving them away. Second, as a potent blast of force directed in a 120-degree arc of their choosing, dealing moderate damage to those affected and potentially knocking them off their feet. Or third, as a single strong blast of force on a target they strike with the hand wearing the ring, dealing high damage and potentially knocking their target back a large distance. Once depleted, this ring will require ten minutes to recharge. Due to the magic empowering this ring, it requires three free ring slots on a hand to function.

“This…this was just all here?” Constantine asked in a wondrous tone as we all inspected the items, our eyes naturally fixating on the rings, the first of their kind that we’d ever seen. “In the nest?”

“This was just all in one pile,” Cassius answered, the man using the opportunity to wave an axe head and what looked like part ceremonial knife in his hand towards a scattered collection of bones nearby. “Berwyn and I spotted the axe head by chance as we were walking through the place, then found everything else as we picked through the mound afterward. We’re thinking that it might have once belonged to an orc warband, or maybe even the arakissi from the fens if they’ve ranged this far.”

“Given what we know, that would make sense to assume,” I said slowly, still trying to shake off the surprise and shock at all the treasures that Cassius had unexpectedly shown us, my eyes turning towards the room itself. “But if you found that all in one pile…”

“Then there could be more, yeah,” the man finished with a nod. “A lot more. But like I said, Berwyn and I lucked out in finding this, and we’re going to need a lot more help—magical help most likely—if we’re going to search this entire place in good time.”

“Oh, I’m already one step ahead of you there,” Halcyon replied, his eyes flickering with azure energy as he started to scan the room intently, turning as he spoke. “And I can definitely confirm that there are more. Many more. I can see their magic from here.”

“Well, that’ll definitely speed up the search then!” Cassius said with relief, going on to pause for a second as Halcyon wandered over to a nearby bone pile and extricated what looked like another dagger. “Anyway, before we get lost into sorting through that…there is the other thing that I wanted to show you guys. Then after that, we can figure out what we’re going to do here.”

Intrigued by the fact that whatever Cassius was referring to was enough to pull the man away from the massive loot haul that we were standing in, none of us hesitated to follow the man as he motioned to us once more. Heading deeper into the nest, the eight of us carefully climbed through the bed of bones that the behir had made for itself and through the partially blocked doorway beyond.

“I can only begin to guess at what might have happened here ages ago,” Cassius said as we walked, the doorway leading into another hallway. “But whatever did happen, it caused someone to try and pull down everything around them when they left. There’s evidence of a lot of intentional damage here, along with what looks like a haphazard job of burying a set of stairs coming up ahead of us by collapsing the ceiling above it.”

“Then they wanted to hide whatever was beyond it?” Caius asked as the aforementioned stairs appeared as we rounded a corner, the way down partially blocked by a few large chunks of debris.

“I don’t know if hide is the word I’d use. More like seal away,” Cassius replied with a shake of his head, motioning for us to descend ahead of him. “In either case though, it was a rush job, because all it took us were a couple of pickax swings to break up some of the bigger debris in the way and squeeze our way through.”

“You really think this place was sealed away? Why would any—oh.” I started to ask, only to have my question die in my throat as we reached the bottom of the stairs, entering into a square twenty-foot-by-twenty-foot room lit by two bright lanterns placed on each side of the room.

The room turned out to be completely covered with blood-red sigils and runes carved into what had to be every inch of the floors, walls, and ceiling.

“Ah,” I heard a voice call out in greeting, causing me to turn my head until I saw Cassius’s second in command, Berwyn, standing right beside what was unmistakably an altar of some sort. “You’re all finally here.”

He paused to loosely indicate the room around us before continuing. “So we found something interesting.”

“U-um, y-you could say that again,” I stuttered, staring blankly at Berwyn and turning my gaze back towards the room, then once more back at the man. “W-what the hell is this place?”

“That is something that we were actually hoping to ask you guys,” Cassius answered from behind me, his voice echoing uncomfortably through the suddenly claustrophobic chamber. “Because we sure have no idea, at least not beyond the obvious.”

“The obvious being that it looks like an evil god’s prayer room, right?” I heard Constantine ask from somewhere behind me as I stared blankly at all the sigils on the wall. “‘Cause that’s sure as hell what it looks like for me.”

“It does have that atmosphere to it, doesn’t it?” Berwyn said in a calm tone as we all took in the room. “You can imagine our surprise when we first found it.”

“Oh, I don’t need to imagine,” I replied dryly, feeling a slight sense of unease come over me as I continued to inspect the room. This was the first time that we’d seen anything like this, let alone the altar of what was more than likely an evil deity. “Um, Halcyon, Caius? Any ideas of what we might be looking at here?”

“Uh, not right off the top of my head,” Halcyon said, somehow sounding even more excited now than he did before we’d entered the room. “But if it makes you all feel better, there’s no magic in the room that I can see.”

“I can confirm that too,” Caius chimed in, not quite matching the mage’s enthusiasm but still sounding all too excited for my ears. “And actually, as for all those runes and scripts on the wall, I can tell you right now that a good chunk, if not all of them, are written in Infernal.”

“Wait, you can read these things?” Theia asked as we all turned to look at the white-haired dark elf in surprise. “How?”

“Warlock, remember?” Caius replied, pointing to himself with a finger. “And it isn’t so much ‘read’ as it is sorta recognize them at a glance.”

“Well, then that’s great!” Constantine exclaimed jubilantly, trying and failing to mask the nervous tone in his voice. “Can you ‘sorta recognize’ if any of them are going to melt my flesh and bones if I turn right the fuck around and leave this place?”

“Uh, well, without any magic in the room, we’re fine,” Caius replied with a shrug. “Plus, Cassius just left and came back in here, right?”

“Ha, that’s right, he did,” the rogue said with evident relief. “Anyway though, since this is clearly a mage and magic user thing, I’m going to nope out of here and go back outside…give you all some space to work in. Anyone else with me?”

“You know, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Kilgore agreed from the doorway, the elf glancing around hesitantly as he spoke. “We can…uh, look around elsewhere while you guys sort this place out.”

“I think that is a wonderful idea,” Theia echoed, glancing over towards me and giving me a wary look. “Promise that you boys will shout really loud if something goes horribly wrong?”

“With our dying breaths,” I replied, giving the lizardwoman a coy grin before she, Constantine, and Kilgore returned upstairs amid a chorus of snorts, leaving us to try and start making sense of the strange room.

Chatting quickly to come up with a plan, we decided that our efforts would best be spent splitting up, with Caius and Halcyon inspecting the symbols that covered the entirety of the chamber while I focused my attention on the altar itself. Pushing down any sense of nervousness that I felt at the task, I forced myself to approach the roughly cut five-foot-long slab of stone with Amaranth beside me.

<There is an ill omen here,> Amaranth said, letting out a deep rumbling growl as he slowly walked beside me, his body taut and coiled as if he were expecting to be forced to either fight or flee at any second. <I would not wish to linger in this place any longer than I absolutely must.>

<I don’t blame you,> I said to the cat as I looked over the altar’s dust-covered surface, my eyes fixating on a large dark stain that stretched the entire length of it. But as I inspected it in more detail up close, I noticed that there was a heavy impact mark beneath the dust in the exact center of it, whatever having caused it creating a large enough crack that it effectively split the altar in two.

“Looks like something happened here,” I commented, glancing over towards Berwyn who had thus far remained silent, giving me a chance to look around without hovering. “This thing looks like someone tried smashing it to pieces. A really long time ago, too, from the looks of it.”

“And succeeded to some extent,” Berwyn agreed before motioning over towards the room with a nod of his head. “Yet none of the inscriptions on the wall are damaged. Isn’t that strange?”

“Actually, no, not really,” Caius called out from nearby, the smaller space allowing our voices to carry easily. “Looking at all of these symbols and runes, it looks like they relied on the altar for power. Without it, they’re just a bunch of creepy scribbles that do nothing.”

“And I don’t suppose you’ve managed to figure out what the creepy scribbles did when they had power to draw on?” I asked, turning to look back at the warlock.

“Specifically?” Caius asked before shaking his head. “No. But with that being said, I’m seeing a lot of summoning runes, ones used for calling forth devils. Like a lot, a lot of summoning runes, more than they’d ever need.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, fully turning to look towards the warlock.

“Well, it’s hard to articulate exactly since I’m not really familiar with summonings,” Caius said, turning to indicate a collection of symbols drawn into the nearby wall. “But I recognize these inscriptions here, which if powered, should allow for the summoning of a minor devil of some sort. But if you look at this inscription and compare it to the others in the room, you’ll see it repeated constantly over and over again.”

“So then, each set of inscriptions would summon its own devil,” I stated, glancing around the room and noticing that there were easily dozens of examples of the symbols in question.

“Maybe?” Caius replied, giving me an uncertain shrug. “At this point, those inscriptions are about the only ones that I understand. The rest of them…just don’t make any sense to me. They could easily have some sort of other effect when combined with them all.”

“Either that or they used this place to summon a hell of a lot of devils at once,” Halcyon said, speaking up from his side of the room. “Pun somewhat intended.”

“Could be,” Caius agreed with a short chuckle. “This is pretty obviously a ritual chamber of some sort. So it’s quite possible that whoever built this place, built it with the intention of using it to summon devils in bulk. Or even open a portal to a different plane and just let them walk through. All it would take is a steady stream of power.”

“Which from the looks of it they got from sacrificing poor helpless souls on this thing,” I said, casting a foreboding glance towards the shattered altar.

“Not necessarily,” the warlock replied, shaking his head. “I mean, sure, that is a way to do it. But there are other, much, much less bloody ways of getting power. The altar itself is just a focus for the magical energy to build before it’s sent along to the runes here.”

“The finer points of magic aside,” Cassius said from his position near the chamber’s entrance, “what I’m more concerned about is why anyone with a lick of sense in them would want to summon that many devils in the first place.”

“Well, I can give you one big guess,” Halcyon replied in a grave tone. “But none of you are going to like it.”

“Oh, I think we’re all thinking of the same thing, Hal,” I said, breathing out a deep sigh as I considered the implications of our find and what it meant for the region. “We all know that the Irovians controlled this area during their war with the Nafarr and, of course, as we can see, they were responsible for building this place. But it looks like this ruin, in particular, might have belonged to the Ascendancy, or at least the faction that eventually became the Ascendancy after the civil war that caused the original dynasty to fall apart. All the feeds that we’ve watched so far point their ruling class to being very deep into the occult and similar dark magic.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right!” Cassius cursed, raising a knuckle to his forehead as he spoke. “I’d forgotten about that. How long ago was that again? Their civil war, that is.”

“A little less than five hundred and fifty some odd years ago, give or take,” I confirmed, recalling the rough time frame from my conversations with the Nafarrian security system in the ruins at Crater Lake. “But beyond that, we don’t know when exactly it first started. My guess would be after they destroyed the Nafarrian city at Crater Lake.”

“Hrm, that’s just great, then,” Cassius grunted. “And now that both they and the Nafarr are gone, we get to trip over all the potentially deadly things they left behind. Speaking of which, I don’t suppose either of you can tell if someone has used this place to summon their own horde of demons recently, can you? I suddenly feel like I need some extra peace of mind so I’m not jumping at shadows.”

“Devils,” Caius corrected. “This room is set up specifically to summon devils, which are something entirely different from demons. But to answer your question, though, no. I’m pretty sure that no one has summoned anything here in a very, very long time.”

“Demons, devils, whatever,” Cassius said, shaking his head dismissively. “It’s all the same to me. But how do you know exactly that this place hasn’t been used recently?”

“For one? The lack of any residual magic,” Caius replied confidently. “And the fact that I can’t sense any dark aura or energy in this place. Summoning devils or demons isn’t exactly like conjuring an elemental or something. It leaves a tangible stain on an area, one that takes a long time to fade away. It’s been so long since this room has been used that it has.”

“Hrm,” the Hallowguarde guild leader grunted, pausing to rub his chin and glance around the chamber before speaking again. “Fair enough. But where does that leave us with this place specifically? Given what you guys have just said, I’m not sure if I’m exactly comfortable with leaving this room intact, and we don’t exactly have the time or ability to mind the place and keep the orcs or even the Dread Crew from finding it.”

“No, me either,” I replied, glancing around the chamber slowly before coming to a decision. “I think our best bet is to make a copy of the inscriptions in this place for our own reference and research, then see if we can’t finish the job of whoever tried to destroy this place ages ago.”

“I agree,” Caius stated. “If nothing else, it’ll make sure that no one can come back here once we’re gone and potentially repair or learn something from the place.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Cassius said with a relieved nod. “Hell, I’ll do it myself if I have to.”

“Yeah,” Halcyon added in agreement. “Normally, I’d be against destroying anything magical or ancient, but given what we’re dealing with here, I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

“All right, then,” I said, happy to hear that everyone was on the same page. “How long do you think it’ll take you guys to take notes on this place? We have a bit of a schedule to keep if we can help it, not to mention get some rest while we’re here, too.”

“Not too long, I don’t think,” Halcyon answered. “A lot of the inscriptions here repeat themselves, so once we can get the basic notation down, we can make notes on the patterns we see and replicate it from there. Worst case from there, we also can re-watch our feeds for any gaps in detail.”

“All right, good,” I replied, taking a step away from the altar and towards the entrance back upstairs. “I’ll leave that to you two, then. I’ll go get started on sorting through all the bones in the nest and see what else I can find.”

“That works for us,” Caius replied, the warlock’s earlier exhaustion having vanished in the face of something new to explore. “We’ll call you if we run into any problems in the meantime.”

“Sounds good to me,” I said, giving the pair a farewell wave as the four of us moved to exit the ritual chamber and make our way back up to the boneyard that was the behir’s nest. “Now let’s see what other treasures we have waiting for us in this place.”

Chapter 35

Sunday, April 21st, 2047 – 12:55 a.m.

“All right, everyone,” I called out a little tiredly, trying to stifle a yawn as I spoke. “One last camp check. Has everyone got everything they came with?”

“Everything except a good night’s sleep,” Constantine grumbled sourly. “And I don’t care what you guys say. If whatever creature that’s making that screeching sound attacks us once we get moving, I’m just gonna let it eat me and be done with it.”

“And let you respawn back in Aldford where you wouldn’t be suffering with us?” I asked, glancing over towards the rogue and catching him in the middle of a yawn while simultaneously rubbing his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re an evil man, Lyr,” Constantine said with a sigh as he finished his stretch and glared at me with a tired expression. “Just pure evil.”

“I try,” I replied, turning my attention towards the room that we’d camped out in for the last few hours, doing my own scan of the area to make sure that we hadn’t accidentally left something behind.

“You guys both know that the critters making that noise are those lizard-bats flying outside, right?” Kilgore queried, the white-haired scout looking irritatingly fresh as if our trek through the Hartwyld and lack of sleep thus far hadn’t even affected him. “They’re barely larger than your fist and definitely can’t eat you.”

“Whatever they are, they’re really loud, and I want them all to die,” Constantine grunted. “I don’t think I’ve managed to get more than an hour of straight sleep before another round of screeching wakes me up.”

“You and about half the group,” the scout replied. “But strangely enough, I don’t hear them complaining. If they are, then at least they’re polite enough to do it inside their own heads.”

“If that isn’t a ‘shut up, Constantine’, I don’t know what is,” I said, glancing over at the rogue who promptly made a rude sound in my direction and walked away from Kilgore and me while continuing to grumble.

“Hopefully, that’ll buy us half a night,” the elf said to me wistfully as our eyes locked briefly. “Maybe more if we set a hard pace and keep him winded.”

“Do what you need to do to give us peace, Kilgore,” I replied, this time unable to stop a yawn from crossing my face. “I don’t think anyone is going to complain.”

“Then let’s see if we can make it to Khudazal before the sun comes up,” he said as we turned to finish our final walkthrough of the chamber and get ourselves moving.

It had been an all-too-brief rest at the lakeside ruins for each of us, the last nine hours blurring by in a mix of much-needed sleep and what little exploring that we could manage of the place. Or at least everyone else did. Thanks to my ability to be able to see magic, my time was largely spent with Theia inside the nest as we sifted through all the countless bones in search of the hidden items we knew were buried within. Proving to be an even grimmer task than I’d originally thought it would be, our efforts were thankfully rewarded with a dozen more of the shattered bone weapon relics, enough to give more weight to Cassius’s theory that the behir had once preyed upon a group of orc or arakissi.

Appearing fairly similar in craftsmanship to one another, each of the relics appeared to be made of crudely worked bone with faint symbols and lines carved occasionally into their surfaces. Yet despite their more primitive and rough appearance, the magic empowering the weapon fragments was anything but, having outlived their previous owners, as well as survived a trip through the giant lizard’s digestive system. It would only take a bit of work once we got back to Aldford to give the weapons a new metal edge, the bone one they currently had looking too damaged to salvage it entirely. In either case, there was little doubt that the weapons would give us a much-needed edge for the future.

If only a workshop or a forge managed to survive whatever destroyed this place, I thought wistfully and not for the first time as I continued my final inspection of the room. Then we could have repaired a few of the relics here and now, then had them for our upcoming raid. At least we found the rings, though. I have little doubt those will be useful.

At the thought, I looked to my left hand and onto the Ring of Force that now sat on my ring finger, the dark metal band still cool to the touch despite having been worn for the last few hours. I’d managed to win it after a particularly intense rock-paper-scissors battle between Constantine and Cassius, the three of us dueling in a best-of-seven match to determine who would be able to claim it. Citing that he already had a similar sort of ability already, Berwyn had chosen to opt out of the battle and instead had chosen the Ring of Shielding, feeling that it would be a useful tool to add to his repertoire. Then lastly, and also by virtue of being our lone healer, Theia had taken the Ring of Healing, the lizardwoman having no doubts that its ability would prove to be useful in the days to come.

Of course, beyond the use of the rings themselves, we’d all been excited to finally figure out just how the ring system worked in Ascend Online—something that had been a curious mystery until now. Armed with a total of eight slots, we potentially had the ability to adorn ourselves with a truly gaudy amount of jewelry across our fingers, or at least so we’d thought. After seeing the descriptions of the latest rings we’d found, we’d realized that there was a level of nuance that had been hidden from us by virtue of our lower levels. With more powerful rings requiring multiple open slots on a hand to function, they effectively forced a player to strategize on what to wear at any given time, depending on what they expected to encounter. There was the option of choosing either a simpler, flat-attribute bonus ring that took up a single slot, such as the one ring that I had, or a situational, utility-based one that granted the use of an ability not otherwise available. I was sure that in the future, a ring’s worth would be judged not only on the ability they provided but also on the total slots they occupied on a single hand, with those requiring fewer being valued much more dearly.

“Okay, everyone,” Kilgore called out as he and I finished our final check of the room, finding that we’d left nothing behind. “It looks like we’re good to go here. Did you guys manage to finish up with everything in that ritual room downstairs?”

“Yeah, we got everything noted down and managed to seal it for good this time,” Halcyon replied as the scout turned to look at him. “No one is getting in there without digging through a literal ton of rock, and even if they did, they aren’t going to find much anyway. Caius and I scarred all the runes beyond readability.”

“Good,” Kilgore replied with a sharp nod. “At least now if this whole mission goes bust, we can console ourselves with knowing that we potentially headed off something that could have bit us in the ass later.”

“Amen to that,” Cassius said, the rest of us echoing a similar sentiment as we finished the last of our preparations, which ended with a series of attribute enhancing buffs from Theia followed by the ever-useful Spirit of the Wild.

“All right everyone,” Kilgore said once all the spellcasting was over. “With any luck, we should make it to Khudazal before the sun starts to rise. I’m thinking if we can make it there in good time, maybe we can treat ourselves to a nice round of murder and mayhem then see if we can’t start our trek back home. What do you all think?”

“Oh, yes, please!” Cassius exclaimed as everyone, save for perhaps Constantine, enthusiastically echoed out in agreement. “Today will be a day that they’ll never forget.”

“Well, then,” Kilgore said with a smile. “In that case, let’s get going.”

Then just like that, we were off.

Exiting the ruin that we’d camped out in for the day, we resumed our journey without another word, the nine of us falling into a loose formation around one another. Well used to traveling through the forest by now, it didn’t take long for us to find our speed, the wild landscape around us scrolling by steadily with every step that we took. Thanks to the behir’s hunting efforts in the area surrounding the ruins, the first hour of our journey passed with little note, the few Hartwyld vipers and smaller creatures that crossed our path being easily avoided. It was only when we were a fair distance away from the place that the regular press of wild animals finally began to return around us, forcing us to adopt a slower and more measured pace. However, it wasn’t just the reappearance of the creatures alone that caused us to move with renewed caution, but rather the challenge that they themselves posted.

Ranging now from the mid to high twenties as they slowly began to reappear, it didn’t take us long to realize that we’d managed to cross into a new sub-region within the forest filled with some of the highest leveled creatures that we’d ever seen. The result was us being forced to stop and fight almost constantly in order to deal with the random attacks, our relatively large number as a party making up for what we lacked in levels, if at least at first. It wasn’t until after a particularly close battle with half a dozen venomous snakes, two owlbears, and a giant beetle, that we realized that we were in too far over our heads and were forced to backtrack slightly. If it hadn’t been for our rush to make it to Khudazal, this particular part of the forest would have been the perfect place for us to spend several days grinding in and push our way towards level thirty. But given our circumstances and our pressing need to keep moving, we didn’t want to risk getting anyone accidentally killed and decided that it would be best to instead skirt the edges of the region until we found a safer path.

Or at least that had been our plan until fate decided that it had other ideas for us.

“Hold up,” I said as we crested over a rough hill that rose up from the forest floor, a sudden scent in the air tickling my nose through the link I shared with Amaranth. “I smell smoke and…something burning.”

Reacting quickly to my words, it only took a second for everyone to grind to halt around me, the warning causing several sharp inhalations to echo out in sudden excitement. As the old adage went, where there was smoke, there was fire, and where there was fire, there was more than likely something or someone that had set it.

“I think I smell it too,” Kilgore replied in a faint voice, the elf’s eyes scanning the forest ahead of us for any clues of its source. “It’s faint, though. We must be pretty far away from it still.”

<Not too far,> Amaranth commented as he paused to sniff the air. <The wind has shifted to carry the scent away from us.>

“Amaranth actually thinks it isn’t,” I replied with a shake of my head, going on to repeat what the cat had told me. “In either case, this is the first sign that we’ve seen that someone could be out here. We should probably check it out and see if we can’t find what’s causing it. It could be orcs.”

“Absolutely, and that’s what I was thinking too,” Kilgore agreed, taking my familiar’s correction in stride and simply nodding at the cat in acceptance. “If Amaranth thinks the smoke is close by though, we’ll have to slow down and pace our way forward carefully. At least until we know more. The last thing I want to do is blunder into another battle like that last one and send this last day of traveling down the drain.”

“I think I can speak for everyone when I say that we all heartily agree with that,” I said, turning to look back towards the group, everyone either nodding or sounding out in agreement.

With nothing else left to say, we took a few minutes to refresh all our buffs before resuming our journey, this time creeping forward at a gradual and measured pace. Guided by the promise of finding something tangible since we’d left the ruins, the next couple miles blurred by as we stalked through the forest, the scent of smoke growing steadily stronger. As it did, we eventually decided that it would be best if Amaranth and I pulled ahead of the group, using our enhanced sense to both follow the scent and to also ensure that there wasn’t something unexpected lying in wait along our route.

<The wind works against us,> Amaranth said to me as we advanced far ahead of the group. <Just when I was beginning to catch hints of a scent from the smoke, it turns northward, stealing it away from me.>

<Did you manage to catch anything at all?> I asked, not having sensed anything through our shared bond as I continued to scan the area, True Sight casting everything in a pale blue tint. <What did it smell like?>

<Fire, ash, and char,> he stated with a mental growl. <And perhaps…a hint of meat, I think. I am not completely certain.>

<Meat?> I replied, glancing towards the cat as a surge of excitement shot through me at his words. <Maybe there are orcs cooking something out here then!>

<Perhaps…> Amaranth said in an uncertain mental tone. <But if they are, then I cannot hear them or anything else ahead of us.>

<Hm, neither can I,> I agreed as I focused on my senses, realizing that all I heard was the rustle of the forest around us, along with the distant screech of the flying lizard-bats that we’d left back at the forest ruins. Unsure of what to make of the absence, I signaled for Amaranth and me to keep moving, the two of us slowing our pace even more, our ears straining to pick up any sign of movement.

Hearing nothing of interest, we continued to stalk forward, our eyes cautiously scanning our surroundings as we rounded yet another hill, the trees ahead of us began to clear slightly. As they did, they revealed the beginnings of a grotto in the distance, the trees and foliage parting to either side to outline the mouth of an open cave set inside the forest floor. Staring at the sight in surprise, Amaranth and I both stopped to look at the scene, the open scar in the earth not being what either of us expected.

<The smoke…comes from here?> Amaranth asked in confusion as we continued to look onwards, our enhanced vision allowing us to pick out a small column of ash rising up from within the grotto despite the nighttime gloom. <But I cannot—>

A loud growl suddenly echoed out from the open grotto ahead of us, stopping the cat’s words cold in my mind, both of us instantly freezing in place as our eyes went wide.

<W-w-what the hell was that?!> I demanded as I glanced over towards my familiar, feeling my heart begin to thunder in my chest at the unexpected noise.

<I-I don’t know!> Amaranth replied in a shaken voice as he pressed himself hard against the ground in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. <I cannot hear anyth—wait! I can hear something…cracking and breaking, I think. And something moving through water, though it is nearly too faint and far away to reach my ears.>

<Something’s breaking?> I asked, managing to hear something pass through the link I shared with the cat but being unable to make much sense of it, let alone identify it as my familiar had. <Can you tell what is causing it?>

<From this far away and without eyes on it?> Amaranth countered, an incredulous tone in his mental voice. <Not even I am that good a hunter to know such.>

<Then I think it’s probably best that we get a better look,> I said as a second, albeit fainter growl echoed up from the open grotto ahead, prompting me to flinch and reflexively scan my surroundings for threats. <If we’re going to be passing through this area again, we should have an idea of what made that noise. If only to know that we should be taking a different path on the way home.>

<I would agree,> Amaranth replied, his fur finally beginning to settle after the shock that had caused us both to freeze. <A wise hunter is always aware of his surroundings, especially so when he passes through new and unknown territory.>

<Good,> I said as I slowly lowered myself to the ground from my kneeling position until I was lying flat on my stomach. <Now let’s go see what’s in that cave.>

Placing himself directly by my side, Amaranth and I began the process of creeping forward towards the nearest edge of the grotto ahead of us. Taking pains to move as silently as possible as we crawled through the foliage separating us from our goal, our approach fortunately masked by the increasing amount of noise that we heard begin to echo out ahead of us. Beginning first as a scraping sound emanating from the cave ahead, the sound eventually evolved into that of something hard breaking, followed shortly after by a faint, keening cry that neither Amaranth nor I could place. But as we grew closer to the cave’s mouth, we realized that it wasn’t just one set of scraping and cries that we were hearing but in fact multiple. Puzzled by the strange development, we were undeterred as we continued to crawl forward, eventually reaching our goal.

<Oh,> I whispered to Amaranth as two of us poked our heads over the edge and gazed into the cavern that opened up beneath us, our hearts beginning to race as we realized what we’d just stumbled onto. <Oh, my.>

Descending at least sixty feet and stretching at least twice that distance in width, the grotto that we’d slowly crawled our way to was larger than anything that we’d expected to find hidden beneath the forest floor. Filled with a variety of growing plants and even trees similar to the forest above it, it was a near perfectly contained ecosystem, complete with its own pond of water directly at its heart. Yet where the grotto differed most from the Hartwyld surrounding it, was by the unmistakable presence of a dozen massive eggs that were piled in a smoldering nest of burning embers.

A dozen massive eggs that happened to be in the process of hatching into a fresh clutch of behirs, similar to the one we’d fought the day earlier.

<It’s a nest,> I said to Amaranth, the cat completely speechless as we saw a newly born behir stumble out from the burning nest and make its way towards what was unmistakably a large carcass of a freshly killed creature I couldn’t identify. <It’s a whole new nest of—oh shit! Look at that!>

Appearing into view half-way through my thought, I saw a truly gargantuan behir, its size dwarfing not only the feasting hatchlings but that of the one we’d fought earlier by several orders of magnitude. Staring completely numb at the creature’s massive size and appearance as its head bent down to inspect its newest spawn, I was greeted with a single tag appearing in my vision and pointing towards it.

[Soh-Khan The Broodmother] – Raid Boss – Level Unknown

Chapter 36

“O-o-okay,” I panted heavily as I moved rapidly through the brush, struggling to get the words out of my mouth. “I-I think we can stop for a bit. And see if we can’t…catch our breaths for a second.”

“Oh, thank fuck!” Halcyon exclaimed as we all began to slow down to a stop, the mage practically collapsing to his knees the instant we did so, breathing heavily. “I don’t think I had much more in me.”

“You and me both, Hal,” Constantine wheezed from beside the man, coughing as he tried to take a deep enough breath into his lungs. “If that thing decides to follow us after all that…I’m just letting it eat me. It’ll have earned it.”

“I don’t think it’s following us,” I replied despite full well sharing the rogue’s sentiments. “Hell, I don’t even think it knew we even saw it, or that we were there at all. But it was probably a good idea to put as much distance between us and it as quickly as possible.”

“You don’t hear any of us complaining about that,” Kilgore said, shaking his head as he spoke. “I mean, damn, an unknown level raid mob? At our level, that puts it at a minimum of level thirty-two, if not higher. Anyone with a lick of sense should be running the other way as fast as possible after seeing that.”

“No kidding,” Cassius agreed, his eyes looking up to scan the forest around us, which was still fortunately quiet after the rapid pace we’d set to get as far away from the Grotto as possible. “At least on the bright side…we finally rounded that high-leveled area. I think I saw a few creatures in the low twenties as we ran.”

“Nothing like a bit of existential terror to get the legs moving,” I said in a halfhearted tone, feeling my lungs finally stop burning now that I managed to have a few seconds to stop and catch my breath.

After our discovery of the behir broodmother, we hadn’t wasted so much as a second before we’d found ourselves promptly turning around and rushing away from the cave’s mouth as quickly as we could. As we did, we practically ran headlong into the others who had been following a few minutes behind us, a hurried warning of the masked level raid mob being all it took to convince everyone to turn around and move in the opposite direction. Moving as quietly as we could manage at first, we made sure to put a fair distance between us and the newly named “Soh-Khan’s Grotto” before picking up our pace until we were practically flying through the forest. It was perhaps overkill and paranoia on our part to think that the gargantuan beast would even detect our brief presence near its nest, let alone choose to follow us through the forest if it did. But the last thing that any of us wanted to experience was an all paid express trip back to Valor’s Point courtesy of an unbeatable raid mob.

Especially after we’d taken pains to skirt around an already high-leveled portion of the forest.

If our experiences with the Beast taught us anything, it was to never underestimate the sneakiness of a hungry animal, I thought, a shiver running down my spine as I tried to imagine what the raid boss equivalent of a fully grown behir would be capable of. As it was, the lesser version that had ambushed us had been a close enough call for us. All it would have taken was a bad twist of luck on our part and we could have easily had our entire party wiped out.

Which would have left us in a really shitty situation to deal with afterward, I added, pushing the spiraling thought out of my mind and turning my attention back towards the others.

“All right, I think that’s a long enough break,” I said while scanning over the party and seeing that everyone had mostly recovered from the demanding pace we’d set. “Let’s see if we can’t get a refresh on buffs and get moving again. That little run was louder than I liked, and I’d like to beat feet before another deadly critter living here in the forest decides to take a closer look at all the noise we’ve made.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice,” Theia replied in an eager voice, the lizardwoman already in the process of renewing her magic on the party. “Give me ten more seconds and we’ll be able to run straight until the sun comes up.”

“Oh, god, please no,” Halcyon grunted, the mage still struggling to fully catch his breath. “No more running, please. I don’t think my lungs can take it.”

“Maybe they could if you decided to, uh, oh I don’t know…put a couple points into constitution next time you leveled?” Caius said to the man while pointing to himself. “I know you have that whole ‘sickly mage’ thing going, but at what cost?”

“DPS,” Halcyon replied in between wheezes. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, am I right?”

“Only enough to know that you can’t do that while dead,” the warlock countered as a chorus of snorts passed throughout the group. “Or winded either.”

“That’s…a fair point,” the mage conceded as his breathing finally began to even out. “Maybe next level I’ll drop a few points there to even things out. But in the meantime…”

“You’ll just need to suffer,” I said to Halcyon as his eyes shifted over towards me with a vaguely pleading look in them. “That’s the price you pay for making constitution your dump stat.”

“Wait, Lyr, please, I don’t think—” the mage started to say, his words abruptly ending as he saw all of us begin to move once again. “Oh, hell, please at least give me a rest break once in a while!”

“We’ll see,” I called back to the mage as I fell in line behind Kilgore, the scout having taken the point position of our group and blazing a path for us all to follow. “Until then though, keep your ætherscope handy and call out if you see anything light up around us. We should be a few hours or less away from the city, and I’d rather not trip over a hidden ward if I can help it.”

Receiving only a pained gasp in response, we resumed our journey through the Hartwyld at a brisk, if not quite demanding, pace that we’d just taken a break from, valuing the increased stealth it brought over our earlier need for speed.

Well, if nothing else, at least we now know there’s another raid mob on the loose in the Hartwyld, I noted as I followed through on the advice that I’d given Halcyon and drew my own ætherscope in my free hand, trusting that it would alert me to any signs of magic in the distance. Though I have no idea what we can do about it going forward. Maybe if we didn’t have this war to worry about, we could have ground our way through Hartwyld until we hit our mid-thirties and tried to take it down. But short of putting an end to the war, our best bet is to do everything we can to avoid it…and hope that it doesn’t find us on our return trip back to Aldford.

Feeling a slight quiver of nervousness shoot through me at that particular thought, I promptly did my best to bury it and instead forced my thoughts towards our upcoming attempt to raid the orc city. Depending on how that particular task went for each of us, a return trip might end up being a completely moot point, should we all end up dying—or perhaps even worse, get captured during our attack.

Continuing with our journey from there, the next few hours passed without any difficulty or surprises of note, our trek falling back into the same pattern that we’d enjoyed the night before. We would move as stealthily as possible through the woods on a northward track, detouring occasionally to evade rough terrain or creatures that we didn’t have to fight. When that wasn’t possible, we carved a path through whatever obstacle stood in our way, be it land or animal. It was a pattern that I was beginning to fear would repeat itself endlessly, resulting in us accidentally bypassing the orc city as we continued even farther into the unknown depths of the Hartwyld—or even worse, whatever lay beyond it, leaving us truly lost and out of place. Fortunately, however, that particular fear didn’t have a chance to fully manifest despite my growing anxiety as shortly after the sun began to rise, a cloud of magic suddenly appeared in the distance, prompting everyone save the spellcasters to stop.

“I think I see where it’s coming from now,” I said in a whisper as I crept forward, breaking the hushed silence we’d all fallen into the moment that our discovery had been announced. “Look at it from over here. You can see a strand of magic reaching back to connect to a single point.”

“You can? Hang on, let me see,” Halcyon replied eagerly while moving over towards me and my vantage point as the less magically inclined members of the group waited patiently behind us, no doubt eager to find out why we were staring into the forest so intently.

Moving over towards me in a crouched position, the mage fell in beside me and stared at the magic ahead, letting out a soft grunt as he inspected it. Allowing him a chance to work at his own pace and hopefully figure out what exactly we were dealing with, I turned my attention back to the magic ahead, giving it a second glance.

Appearing as if it were a billowing curtain made from a faint azure mist, the wall of magic stretched for as far as we could see on either side of us. Thin and wisplike in nature, the magic danced slowly through the air as if it was being carried by an invisible wind, dissipating into nothingness the closer towards us it traveled. Looking deeper into the mist where it was thickest, I could see a half-dozen faint strands of magic also floating through the air, their lengths stretching out to encompass the entirety of the wall.

Which I think is what is creating the mist in the first place, and then that, in turn, is powered by whatever that spot of magic is there, I noted as I followed the various threads back to their source, seeing that they all reached back to connect to a single origin point on the far end of the mist.

“The magic ahead of us is definitely part of a ward,” Halcyon whispered as his inspection came to an end, confirming our initial suspicions when we’d spotted the magic. “Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can see each of the ward posts supporting the magic that’s curtaining off the area ahead. There’s one roughly every sixty feet or so from the looks of it.”

“Then this what we’ve been looking for, isn’t it? We’ve found the orc city?” Kilgore asked. “Wards don’t tend to spring up on their own, especially not in the middle of the forest.”

“No,” I agreed as I turned to look back at the group, seeing several eager expressions looking back towards me. “That they definitely don’t.”

“Can you tell what they do if we trip them then?” Cassius asked. “Because if there’s a wall of them blocking the way, we’re going to have to go through them, right? Or search for another route to take.”

“Maybe. Hang on a second, let me check something,” Halcyon said in a curious tone as he took a cautious step towards the magical mist followed by two more in quick succession. Pausing for a second right at the edge of a thin section of mist the mage cautiously reached out to touch it, only to immediately stop as he got close, his voice filtering back to us. “Huh, I don’t want to get any closer.”

“Uh, then you don’t have to?” I replied back to the man, feeling a spike of anxiety shoot through me as I saw him reach out to touch the mist.

“No, but that’s just it,” he said, shaking his head and briefly glancing back towards us. “I do want to get closer, at least when I’m standing here. But if I try and reach out towards the magic here…I think I want to go home.”

Watching the mage as he spoke, I saw him try and reach out again into the mist, only to abort it the instant he came in contact with a floating wisp, pulling his hand back towards him. Though this time, however, he also took a single step backward, a shiver passing through his body as he did so.

“Whoa,” he said as he shook off whatever had afflicted him. “That second time was a little bit more intense, but that does confirm what I thought these wards were designed to do.”

“And is it designed to stress out your entire party while you play the worse game of charades ever?” Constantine asked in an anxious tone. “Because some of us lowly non-mages here are having a really hard time following what’s going on, especially when you’re touching things that could bring a ton of orcs down on us.”

“Well, you can relax, because that’s not going to happen. The ward isn’t designed to do that,” Halcyon explained as he continued to shake off whatever magic had afflicted him. “And if it was, then it would drive whoever set it up absolutely crazy with constant alarms every time a critter came near it. Looking at this, I’m pretty sure that this ward was designed to keep wandering forest creatures from passing through it by encouraging them that they should go somewhere else if they get too close.”

“Like home, for example,” I said, my earlier anxiety fading away into curiosity as I recalled the mage’s words when he touched the invisible mist for the second time. “It’s a sort of…repelling ward then.”

“I suppose that’s as good a name for it as anything,” Halcyon agreed with a nod, his attention turning back to the line of wards that continued either side of us as far as we could see. “But then that does beg the obvious question: what is it trying to keep creatures away from? To have this many wards all chained together is a pretty big investment. Whoever made these will have to recharge them every couple days or so, or they’ll run out of magic and stop working.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it definitely sounds like it’s worth us taking a closer look at whatever’s behind them then,” Constantine replied. “Assuming you know how we’re going to get past these wards. I get the feeling it won’t be as simple as running straight through them, will it?”

“Uh, well, that might work if we tried hard enough,” Halcyon allowed, motioning towards me as he spoke. “But the experience would probably suck and isn’t really necessary. Now that we know where the ward post is, we can simply destroy it and the magic will dissipate, or if you want to, Lyr, you can use your mana draining ability to see if you can’t just disenchant the thing. That might be a little less conspicuous if someone comes by to recharge these things and sees one of them broken.”

“That is actually a pretty good idea,” I said, taking that opportunity to look back towards the party and motion them forward. “What do you all say then? Shall we keep moving and see just what exactly the orcs are up to here?”

“Damn straight,” Constantine replied as he and everyone else readied themselves. “It’s about time all this sleep we’ve been missing finally paid off. Let’s go see just how big of a mess we can make.”

Hearing similar exclamations from the others, we wasted no time in readying ourselves to move once again, everyone falling in behind me as I strode towards the ward’s boundary. Careful not to step too far, I stopped just short of the floating mist before shifting my attention towards the glowing ward post, True Sight combined with my Irovian ætherscope painting it a bright blue in my vision.

“All right, here we go,” I announced to everyone before raising a hand in the direction of the object and summoning the hunger that lurked within me, shaping it into my Mana Leech ability.

Responding instantly, I felt my stomach twist sharply, followed by a cool stream of mana flow into me, the glow of the distant ward post gradually fading from sight. No sooner did it do so, did the lines of magic leading away from it, the azure strands simply unraveling themselves and vanishing as the energy sustaining them abruptly ended. Then lastly, so too did the wisplike mist begin to disappear, at first becoming thinner and thinner the farther that it floated through the air before finally fading away into nothingness.

And leaving us with a wide-open path ahead of us.

“Well, that was easy enough,” I said as I lowered my hand, watching the last of the ward’s magic fade from sight. “Now let’s go see what else is in store for us.”

Chapter 37

“Someone tell me that I’m not the only one seeing what I’m seeing here,” I heard Cassius say in a faint whisper from somewhere behind me. “Because this…isn’t at all what I expected to walk into.”

“Oh, believe me, you’re seeing what you’re seeing here, all right,” Constantine’s voice filtered back a second later, its tone tinged with wonder. “But it’s making me wonder if we’re even in the right place now. Maybe we took a wrong turn somewhere…”

It had barely been twenty minutes since we’d passed through the gap that I’d made in the repelling ward, the nine of us stalking our way forward into the protected grounds beyond. Proceeding with the utmost care and caution that we could muster, our progress at first was slow and measured as we anxiously scanned our surroundings as if expecting to run headlong into a waiting orc warband. Instead, however, we were greeted with a nigh perfectly silent forest all around us, devoid of any signs of either people or creatures inhabiting it, causing a peaceful calm to fall over each of us despite our trespassing on unknown ground. So soothing was the experience that it even caused the general anxiety that we’d grown accustomed to while traveling through the Hartwyld to fade away.

If only for a short while.

Lasting for as long as it took us to push onwards through the tranquil forest, the peace and quiet that we’d found ourselves suddenly enjoying came to an abrupt end as the trees ahead of us began to part. Beginning slowly at first, the forest around us gradually began to transition into a partially shaded glade dominated by a handful of particularly tall and thick trees, their branches stretching out to cover a wide area. Of course, that in itself wouldn’t have been a concern or surprise to any of us, each of us having spent the last few weeks under the boughs of Aldford’s ætherwarped oak tree. It was instead the massive garden that encompassed the entirety of the clearing ahead that caused us all to pause and gaze onwards in wonder. With no other word fitting enough to describe it, the entire expanse ahead of us was filled with an endless bounty of growing vegetables, fruit trees, and nut-bearing bushes, along with dozens of other plants we couldn’t even begin to identify.

All of which happened to be several orders of magnitude larger than anything we’d ever seen before, to the point where some of the various vegetables and plants towered high over us.

“And ended up where exactly?” Caius’s voice echoed out silently, breaking the silence that had followed Constantine’s words. “A giant’s back garden?”

“That would definitely fit,” Constantine whispered back. “I mean…look at all of this! Just that apple alone over there is bigger than my head! And is that thing over there a head of lettuce? Whatever it is it’s nearly taller than I am!”

“I think the better question to ask right now is who could possibly need to grow this much food,” Cassius stated. “This could keep us all fed in Aldford for ages…assuming we could preserve it all.”

“Who else would you think?” I replied as I finished looking at an oversized tomato plant and glanced back towards the group, seeing them each in the process of inspecting the various giant plants around us. “We always wondered how the orcs managed to keep their armies fed, didn’t we? Well, it looks like we’ve found our answer. A magical garden. Or I at least assume it’s a magical one. It’s the only thing that would explain the size of everything here.”

“You think the orcs are responsible for this?” Cassius asked with a doubtful tone in his voice. “I never really pictured them as gardeners…or vegetable eaters either, now that I think of it.”

“Neither did I,” I said with a shrug. “But I also can’t think of anything else that fits, and it explains why this area was warded and kept separate from the forest. They don’t want the animals eating their harvest.”

“Shit,” Cassius cursed as he glanced around the place with a renewed interest. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense then. But if that’s true, what are we going to do? This place is just too big to—”

“HEY! STOP!” a loud guttural voice suddenly shouted from somewhere nearby, drowning out the Eberian scout’s words. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?”

Flinching in a panic at the unexpected shout, I couldn’t help but instinctively crouch at its volume immediately twisting in its direction, my hand reaching to grab Splinter’s hilt. But before I could even begin to process the fear that we’d been somehow caught, a second voice answered the first in a cool and collected tone.

“I’m just checking over the crops like I was told to,” it said calmly. “We need to make sure that the blight hasn’t spread this far.”

“You lie!” the first voice spat back angrily. “I saw you rub something onto the plant! What was it? You are to check with your eyes only! Nothing else!”

While unable to hear any reply that followed the accusation, I found myself breathing a faint sigh of relief as I realized that the shout hadn’t been directed towards us, but rather to someone else also in the glade. Glancing back at the party behind me, I saw that I wasn’t the only one who shared that sentiment with everyone’s eyes fixated in the direction of the voices, their bodies partially hidden among the nearby plants.

<I hear the movement of many feet moving away from us,> Amaranth said as he slowly crawled forward from behind a colossal tomato plant to take cover behind some sort of nut-bearing bush. <As well as angry voices amongst them.>

<Then we better take a closer look at what’s going on,> I replied to my familiar, going on to glance back towards the others who had since shifted to look in my direction after seeing the cat move. Making a decision quickly, I signaled for them to follow me as quietly as possible before stalking forward behind Amaranth. <You lead the way, and we’ll follow.>

Receiving a mental growl in acknowledgment, we all moved to follow the cat, leaving our impromptu hiding spots among the giant vegetables behind as we stalked deeper into the strange garden in search of the voices we’d heard. As we did, it gave me a chance to take a better look at all the plants growing around us, seeing that they’d all been planted in rough rows, giving us just enough room to pass by without disturbing them. That space also allowed for us to move rapidly through the garden, taking us only a few seconds to catch up with the voices that we’d heard earlier, which had seemed to have finally come to a stop. Slowing as we did so, I made sure to follow Amaranth’s lead as he guided me behind a heavy trellis that was filled with fist-sized grapes, the gaps in both the wood and vines covering it just enough for me to see through.

And revealing half a dozen orcs standing in a small square behind it.

I was right! There are orcs here! I exclaimed mentally, feeling my heart begin to race as my eyes were drawn to five other figures kneeling on the ground in front of the orcs, their hands clasped behind their heads. Glancing between them all, it only took me a second to realize that they were all slaves, the heavy iron collars around their necks leaving no doubt to their status.

Of the five of them, I was immediately able to recognize the species of three of the slaves. Two were very obviously humans, one being a dark-haired and bearded man with the other a brown-haired woman. Both were somewhere in their twenties by my best guess, their clothing covered in dirt and torn in various places but appearing reasonably hale from what I could see. Their status was contrasted greatly by an exceptionally malnourished green-scaled arakissi that knelt between them, the collar around the lizardwoman’s neck hanging so loosely that it swung from side to side as she trembled. As for the last two that completed the quintet, a pair of large bearlike beastkin, I was unable to put name their species, save for recognizing their appearance as being identical to the victims that the orcs had entombed inside some their corrupted constructs.

“I said, answer me!” One of the orcs snarled loudly just as I finished taking in the scene, the creature stepping forward to roughly grab one of the two beastkin, its gnarled hand grabbing a fistful of golden fur on its shoulder and twisting painfully. “What did you do to the plant?”

“W-what…I was sent here to do,” the beastkin answered in a strong if halting voice. “I t-tended to it…to make sure it grows—”

“Stop lying to me!” the orc shouted, cutting off the man’s voice as he shook him once roughly, pulling him off his knees and sending him sprawling to the ground on his chest. But the orc was far from done with his abuse as he then moved to kick the now fallen beastkin in the ribs with a booted foot hard enough that a loud crack echoed out. “I know what I—”

It was the orc’s turn to be cut off as the entire square exploded into a flurry of movement, beginning first with the second, grey-furred, beastkin launching himself forward at the orc slavemaster attacking his friend. Leading with a well-aimed fist, the ursine’s surprise attack took the orc directly in the chin before he could even think to react, the powerful blow sending him falling straight to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. But despite the attack’s devastating success, it was all that the beastkin was able to manage as the other five orcs retaliated, their bodies already moving before the fist had even landed.

Falling upon him like a swarm of angry bees, the bearlike man then vanished from view as the orcs returned his strike fivefold, sending him to the ground to join both his companion and the slavemaster he’d struck. Flinching at the sudden display of violence, I reached for Splinter at my side, pausing as I touched its hilt, weighing the risk of getting involved. So far we’d managed to get this far without the orcs discovering our presence, an advantage that once lost would be impossible to regain. Yet at the same time, I was hesitant to stand by and just watch the orcs abuse a pair of slaves when I had the power to intervene. Fortunately, the decision was taken away from me before I could even fully finish forming the twin thoughts in the form of a loud, authoritative voice booming through the square.

“STOP! Stop it right now!” it shouted in a harsh and guttural tone as its owner, a large orc clad in a mix of thick leathers and bone ran into view from the opposite side of the square, along with three others trailing a few seconds. “What is the meaning of this?”

Instantly, all the other orcs froze and twisted towards the new arrivals as they came to a stop, one of them replying with something that I couldn’t make out among the fading noise. Whatever it was, however, it didn’t impress the larger orc, prompting him to shout back at the group and hefting a heavy club that had been previously kept out of sight.

“I don’t care!” he snarled angrily, waving the cudgel threateningly as he did so. “It is not your place to discipline these slaves, and if you have damaged them beyond repair, I will take the same out of each of your hides in turn! There is a reason why they are Needed!”

Flinching at the statement, the orcs all assumed a submissive pose as their leader finished speaking, the weight behind his final word causing them each to bow their heads deeply in response. Saying nothing, the large orc glared at them for several seconds before becoming satisfied with their display, going to on gesture sharply with his free hand towards the two fallen beastkin. Reacting without any need for a verbal command, the four still-standing orcs practically tripped over one another to lift the two ursine slaves to their feet, unceremoniously kicking their still unconscious companion to the side.

Oof, not a lot of loyalty there, I thought with a wince as I watched the orcs present the wounded beastkin to their leader, who wasted no time in inspecting the pair, his scowl deepening as he turned to look at the golden-furred beastkin.

“You are all fools beyond measure for attacking an earthspeaker at all, let alone in sight of one of his people, no matter what you think he may have done!” I heard the orc state harshly as he gently prodded the ursine man’s chest, which promptly elicited a pained, wet-sounding cough to echo out. This was evidently not something that the orc wanted to see, the scowl on his face deepening even further.

Saying nothing, however, the orc finished his triage quickly, turning to look towards the second beastkin, who was hanging completely limp in the arms of his tormenters, having been knocked out cold from the short brawl. Needing only an instant to assess the ursine man’s condition, the orc’s eyes visibly widened in surprise before he promptly placed his free hand on his forehead, a golden glow brightening the square a second later. A few seconds passed as the orc maintained his grip, during which the beastkin visibly strengthened until he was beginning to stir and then thrash.

He’s…healing him? I questioned, staring at the scene as it unfolded with a mix of both curiosity and confusion. But why—

My thoughts trailed off as the slavemaster suddenly released his hold on the ursine and shoved him backward, at the same time the beastkin let out a defiant shout and sent a thick stream of spit splashing across his still-outstretched hand. Barking angrily, the orc promptly thrust out with the head of his club, the blow catching the man in a soft spot just below his belt, instantly ending any fight that he might have had left in him.

Oh, ouch! I thought with a wince as the beastkin went limp for a second time, letting out a nauseating groan in the process.

“There, he is whole enough again. Now take him to be whipped, for he struck one of his masters,” the slavemaster growled as he wiped the spittle on his hand on the golden-furred beastkin’s chest before repeating the healing process once again. “Somewhere the earthspeaker can watch. Once they are done, have them strung up in their cells for the rest of the day. No rations or water until I say otherwise. I will be by to question them once this maggot speaks his story to me and I determine who it is I must punish.”

As he spoke, he waved his hand towards the still-unconscious orc lying on the ground, who had largely been ignored in the chaos. The motion prompted two of the other orcs standing beside him to step forward, moving to grab a pair of arms and legs each, lifting him off the ground as they prepared to leave. Feeling my stomach curdle as I thought about what was in store for the two beastkin, I glared towards the rapidly departing orcs, silently wondering if we’d be able to risk intervening. An instant later I had my answer as a trio of tags appeared in my vision, each of them pointing to the various orcs in the square.

[Orc Slavemaster] – Level 27

[Orc Warrior] – Level 25

[Orc Brute] – Level 24

Damn, there are too many of them to take quietly at those levels, I thought, shaking my head so that the others watching me knew to stay put. While there was little doubt that we would be able to kill all of the orcs and rescue the slaves, it would be at the cost of announcing our presence for potentially little gain. As callous as it was, we had to leave the beastkin to whatever their fate had in store for them, at least until we had more information to work with and were ready to commit ourselves to a particular course of action. That said, however, I wasn’t completely cold to the pair’s situation, my attention shifting to look at Amaranth who was still watching the scene ahead of us intently.

<Do you think you can follow those orcs without being seen?> I asked my familiar, seeing his eyes shift towards me with a vaguely insulted look. <Okay, fine, of course, you can. I want you to keep a tail on them and see if you can find out where they’re being taken. I don’t know what exactly this “blight” is that we heard the orcs accuse them about, but it might be something important that we can take advantage of.>

<Very well,> the cat replied, already moving in pursuit of the orcs, the soft whisper of his armor reaching my ears as he stalked past me before turning down another row and vanishing from sight. <And what will you all do in the meantime?>

<Make contact with the other slaves here,> I replied as I glanced back into the square, seeing that the remaining slaves were still on their knees with their hands behind their heads, seemingly not having moved an inch despite the brawl that had taken place before them. <Hopefully, they’ll be able to tell us more about what we saw happen here.>

<You wish to reveal yourselves to them?> Amaranth answered back in an uncertain tone. <Are you certain that is wise? They look meeker than kittens.>

<It’s the best option we have to learn more about the situation here,> I said to the cat as I watched the orc slavemaster bark at the trio to get back to work, promptly causing them each to flinch and start scrambling to their feet. <And hopefully give us an idea of what our next move should be.>

Receiving a mental growl of assent from Amaranth in response to my statement, I felt my familiar’s presence fade from my mind as he moved to track the orcs, which quickly included the slavemaster. Turning as soon as he’d finished delivering his command, the large orc wasted no time in following his entourage, leaving the three clearly shaken slaves without so much as a second glance.

And I suppose that’s my cue, I said silently as I watched the three slaves’ frantic movement slow they saw their masters leave. Breathing a visible sigh of relief, they all then huddled around one another, whispering urgently with looks of fear and worry spreading across each of their faces as they no doubt began to replay the scene we’d just witnessed. Deciding that it would be best to catch them before they went too far into panic, or worse, decided to split up, I rounded the trellis, watching their heads immediately snap in my direction.

Reacting out of what had to be sheer instinct, thinking that I must be an orc, the three slaves instantly straightened themselves out into a line, their hushed conversation falling silent and eyes shooting towards the ground. But those instincts only lasted for as long as it took them to realize that there was something off about what they’d seen, each of their gazes slowly creeping back upwards.

“So,” I said, saying the first thing that came to mind as I saw their eyes land on me,

“it seems like you’re all having a pretty rough start to the day from the looks of it. Want to tell us a little bit more about what we just saw?”

Chapter 38

My words hung heavily in the air for several seconds as the three slaves looked at me with complete shock, their eyes growing wide and mouths falling open at my unexpected appearance. So complete was their surprise that I was certain they all stopped breathing as they stared back at me, their bodies freezing in place as if I’d cast a paralyzing spell upon them. Caught a little off guard by the extreme reaction to my arrival, I decided to try and break the stunned silence that had fallen, hoping to reassure them that I wasn’t a threat. But no sooner did I open my mouth to speak did the lizardwoman suddenly collapse, her legs giving out without warning as she fell to the ground in a heap.

“No, Zua!” the brown-haired woman shouted in a panic as she saw the frail arakissi faint, her body moving reflexively to aid her companion. But before she could even move halfway towards her fallen friend, she froze once again, her eyes snapping back onto me in a panic followed by a near-endless torrent of words flowing from her mouth. “Please don’t take her! She will be fine and can keep working! She just needs a moment to pull herself together! We’ve been working all morning, and she’s a bit—”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down! I’m not here to take anyone!” I exclaimed, raising my hands towards the woman in an attempt to both soothe her and still the terror I saw on her face. Yet as I tried to do that, I noticed that the bearded man had started to back away from the other two slaves, his gaze turning to look down an open laneway amid the giant garden plants. Realizing that he was preparing to flee, I said the only thing that I could think of to get him to stop. “Hey, hold on! I’m here to help! I’m from Aldford! Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re both from a settler group that was supposed to arrive a few weeks ago, right?”

Reacting as if I’d physically struck them both the second that I said the town’s name, the two slaves both froze once again, their eyes widening even further as a fleeting spark of recognition passed through them. Instantly afterward their demeanor began to change, the frightened expressions across their faces and the tension in their bodies softening, to be replaced with the faint beginnings of hope.

“A-Aldford?” the man queried in a halting voice, his attention snapping to fixate on me, forgetting his desire to escape. “Y-you’re from Aldford? A-and you made it here?”

“I did, or rather we did,” I answered, happy that I was able to keep the man from fleeing. “I managed to bring a few friends with me. Here, stay put for a second, and I’ll call them out. You have nothing to be afraid of.”

Using one of my outstretched hands as I spoke, I took that opportunity to signal the others that I knew were watching our exchange to step out where the pair could see them, being careful not to make any sudden movements. Reacting instantly to my cue, it took no time at all for the party to step out from amid the giant plants of the square. As they did, the expressions on the two slaves’ faces only continued to widen as they saw just how many of us there were. The man in particular was taken aback as Berwyn stepped out from the very laneway that he’d been eyeing to escape to, the man shuffling a step closer to his companions.

“Like I said, we’re not here to hurt you,” I reassured the pair for a second time as they glanced between all of us. “We know that you and dozens of other settlers have been kidnapped by a group of other adventurers, the Dread Crew, and sold to the orcs. I’m sorry it took us so long, but we’re here to rescue you and as many others as we can. If you’ll let us, that is.”

“You’re here…to rescue us?” the woman repeated slowly as if not believing my words at first. But after a second for them to sink in, her composure suddenly began to break as she responded to me in a desperate voice. “Yes! Please! Take us away from here! We don’t care where, just anywhere that isn’t this place! My friend Zua here is sick, and she won’t last much longer before she can’t work anymore. When that happens, the orcs will take her away a-and…”

“Turn her into a monster,” Theia finished in a gentle voice as she stepped towards the pair slowly. “We know all too well what they have been doing to you all here. May I take a look at her?”

“Yes, of course!” the woman replied excitedly as she finished rushing towards the fallen arakissi’s side, who hadn’t moved since she’d collapsed. “But it has to be quick. This place isn’t safe for us to stay for too long. The slavemasters often patrol through here looking to catch lazy slaves.”

“Then I shall see what I can do,” Theia said as she bent down to look at the unconscious lizardwoman, the tension in both of the slaves visibly deflating the second they saw her hand begin to glow with healing magic. “But in the meantime, I am certain that my friends have questions for you both, about what we just saw as well as your time with the orcs. The more that you’re able to tell us, the better that we will be able to help you all.”

“Ask us anything,” the woman stated in an earnest tone, her attention turning to glance at the man and then back towards me. “My name is Kara, and this here is Cline. We’ve been slaves here for…I’m not sure how long anymore. The days have started to blur together far too closely now. Months at least.”

“I understand,” I replied, going on to introduce myself as well as the others before beginning my questioning. “I know that there isn’t enough time to even begin to cover everything, but why don’t we start with what we just saw happen here with the orcs? We heard them accuse that golden-furred beastkin about doing something to one of the plants here.”

“His name is Garr, and his people are known as the gronn,” Kara answered, despite shaking her head. “Apparently, they’re from elsewhere on the continent here, somewhere farther to the north. In either case, though, I’m afraid I have no idea what could have happened to cause the orc to get so angry at him. Normally, they let him do whatever he wants to here because he’s an earthspeaker, or rather a druid, as we call them in Eberia. It’s because of him and the others of his kind that this garden exists in the first place. All I heard was shouting and then two of the slavemasters arrived dragging him and Arcturus into this square at the same time as Zua and I were passing through it. We were just caught up in it by chance.”

“I see,” I replied with a nod, inferring that Arcturus must have been the name of the other grey-furred gronn. “I heard him say something about checking the plant for blight. Would that have caused a problem?”

“I don’t see why,” she said, once more shaking her head. “It’s been affecting whole chunks of crops so far throughout the other gardens. If Garr would be doing anything, it would be to make sure that it didn’t spread any further. Because if he didn’t, well…”

“Then it would be his head on the line,” I finished after the woman trailed off, guessing the obvious end to poor performance as well as taking note that this wasn’t the only garden that the orcs had apparently cultivated.

“Possibly,” Kara said, her head turning as Zua let out a faint groan in response to Theia’s healing efforts. “You heard what the slavemaster said, right? That he was Needed?”

“We did,” I stated with a nod, remembering the emphasis that had been placed on the word. “Does that mean something in particular among the orcs?”

“It’s a rank of importance a slave has to them,” the woman went onto explain. “A Needed slave is almost untouchable by all except the highest of status orcs, oftentimes because they have skills that are rare or incredibly useful to them.”

“Such as being a druid,” I said with a nod, the cold part of me understanding the value that such a slave would have if one needed to grow an obviously magical garden such as the one we were in.

“Right,” Kara confirmed. “But then, because of him being Needed, he can’t be punished in the same way as lesser slaves, at least not as easily. So instead, others would be punished—if not killed—in his place to ensure that he works more…diligently.”

“Then that’s why the slavemaster was going to have his friend whipped in front of him,” Constantine stated, the rogue having shifted over to join our conversation. “Because he couldn’t punish him directly.”

“That’s right,” she said, her eyes dropping down at the thought. “But like I said, I don’t know why the orcs would have taken offense to him tending to one of the plants. It is his job. Also with how concerned they’ve been with the blight’s spread, I would think they would have welcomed his efforts to try and make sure it isn’t afflicting more of the crops.”

“That is assuming what he was doing in the first place was indeed checking for this blight you speak of,” Berwyn interjected. “Perhaps whatever it is that he dropped and then you picked up, Cline, during their scuffle with the orcs would shed some light on what he was truly doing?”

There was a brief pause as everyone turned their attention towards the man, who promptly froze under the weight of the combined gaze.

“Wait, what? What are you talking about?” Kara asked as she glanced over towards Berwyn with a frown and then her companion. “Cline, what is he talking about? Did Garr give something to you?”

“No,” he stated in a firm voice as he stared at the monk with a blank expression. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“Really?” Berwyn replied without missing a beat. “I could have sworn I saw the golden-furred man toss something wooden back towards you the instant that his companion struck the orc before him. I could also have sworn that I saw you grab it the instant you saw it and stuff it into your front pocket there while everyone was looking at the fighting.”

“Then maybe you should get your eyes—” the man started to say only to find himself interrupted by Kara before he could finish speaking.

“Cline, what are you doing?” she hissed in an angry tone. “These people are here to help us! If there is something Garr gave you, you should tell them! This is our chance to finally get away from here!”

“You trust too easily, Kara,” the man replied stubbornly as he glared at us. “We don’t know who these people even are, despite what they say. They’ve just shown up out of nowhere, and you’re ready to run off with them. Did you ever think that this could be a trick of some kind to get us in trouble? Or even killed? For starters, how do you think they all even got here, all the way this far into the garden in the first place?”

“By going the long way,” I answered, having stayed silent during Berwyn’s accusation, the man having clearly caught something I missed amid the chaos. “We traveled straight through the forest up from Aldford.”

“Through…the forest?” the man repeated slowly an angry expression appearing on his face as he shook his head forcefully. “No. That’s a lie. Traveling through the forest is impossible, there are too many monsters scattered through there. Enough so that the orcs don’t even dare to pass through it.”

“Well, we happen to be a little braver and tougher than the orcs,” I told the man. “But that said, I completely understand you being hesitant to tell us anything given what you must have endured since you were captured, and we won’t force you to talk to us if you don’t want to. If you want to turn around and leave right now, I promise you we won’t try and stop you.”

“Hrm. In exchange for what?” Cline grunted in response, his head moving to indicate both Kara and Zua. “You keeping them?”

“In exchange for nothing,” I assured, shaking my head. “If none of you want to help us, you certainly don’t have to. But that’s not going to change what we’re here to do. We’re here to hurt the orcs and free what slaves we can.

“But,” I continued while motioning towards the garden around us, “having some help, both in understanding what you’ve all been through and telling us what exactly is going on here, would go a long way toward making sure we hit them where it hurts most.”

“If nothing else, at least listen to our story,” Theia added from beside the lizardwoman’s side who had yet to respond to her treatment. “You must have noticed by now that the orcs have moved to attack someone. It’s Aldford that they’re attacking, and we’re barely managing to hold them back. If we can’t figure out a way to stop them, they’ll run right over us and continue straight onto Coldscar and Eberia.”

“Those are a lot of honeyed words,” Cline said, the suspicious expression on his face staying fixed as he glared between Theia and me. But partway through his sentence, Zua let out a series of body-wracking coughs that caused him to trail off, followed by his demeanor suddenly softening.

“Fine,” he said in a soft voice as the lizardwoman fell unconscious once again, causing Theia to fuss over her with renewed effort. “I’ll listen to what you have to say. Maybe you can all convince me you are who you say you are. But Kara is right, we can’t stay here. Especially not with Zua being so sick. We need to move her somewhere safer where she won’t be discovered.”

“Lead the way,” I replied without a moment’s hesitation, glad that we were finally able to get through to the man. “You know this place better than us.”

Receiving a simple grunt in response to my words, we all moved to follow the man, with Cassius being elected to carry the frail arakissi with us. Setting out from the square, we all backtracked partially the way that we’d come, Cline leading us southward towards the garden’s edge where it butted up against the forest. After reaching it, he turned to lead us westward along its border, citing that it was unlikely that any of the orc slavemasters would be patrolling this far given how distant it was from where the bulk of the slaves were assigned to work today. Taking the man at his word, we continued along the garden’s edge for nearly a half-hour before we finally reached the destination that he had picked out for us.

But, of course, given what that destination ended up being, we began to smell it long before we arrived.

“Ugh, are you sure there isn’t somewhere else we can hide?” Constantine asked, barely managing to stifle a retch as Cline led us behind a truly massive mound of compost that had been piled in a line on the garden’s edge, a wave of both heat and rot wafting over us. “This place smells terrible!”

“Which is why none of the slavemasters would willingly come here to check for hiding slaves,” Cline replied as we all stopped in a patch of forest hidden a couple dozen yards behind the decomposing mass. “The smell offends them and tends to keep them at bay. We should be safe here long enough for her to finish looking over Zua…and for you all to say whatever it is you need to say.”

“Then we won’t waste any time,” I said, waiting only until Zua was taken care of and back under Theia’s care before I started to tell both Kara and Cline our full story, beginning with how we’d first noticed that Aldford’s settlers weren’t arriving on the schedule that had been promised. “It all started almost two months ago, when we finally realized that something was wrong…”

Going into detail for the next quarter-hour, I, with the help of the others, explained to both Kara and Cline the extent of our conflict with the Dread Crew. Beginning first with our surprise attack on the Grey Devils at the beginning of March and continuing onwards through Carver’s initial ambush at the Irovian tower and the events in the Twilight Grove, we left little out for them. Or at least we did with regards to the bigger picture. There was simply too much for us to cover to go into great detail about our experiences and not enough time to do so. Instead, we focused our efforts on what we felt would resonate with the pair the deepest, telling them of our war with both the Dread Crew and the orcs thus far.

“What was her name?” the man asked me in a quiet voice, breaking the temporary silence that had fallen once I’d finished my story. “The woman you spoke to in that abandoned camp, I mean.”

“I’m sorry, but we didn’t have a chance to find out,” I replied softly with a shake of my head. “She…ended up passing before we could get far enough to ask.”

“Ah, damn,” he cursed, our conversation falling silent as he looked at the ground mournfully, his two companions following suit. “That’s…too bad. She deserved to be remembered after what she’d been through. So did the others with her.”

“When we first fought those monsters, we didn’t know that the orcs were putting people inside them,” I said as gently as I could manage. “It wasn’t until after our first battle with them that we realized what they’d done, but by then it was too late.”

“Neither did we the first time that we saw them,” Cline replied softly, a haunted look crossing his face as an unwelcome memory came to mind. “But it wasn’t long before we heard the warnings from the other slaves…and saw how those who were too troublesome happened to disappear, never to be seen again. Then there was one day…”

“If what you say is true, their death was a mercy,” Kara stated simply as her partner’s voice trailed off, whatever memory he was trying to explain refusing to come out. “An end to their suffering. After what we’ve all seen and been forced to suffer through here, none of us would, or even could, ever hold such an act against you.”

“No, that we certainly would not,” Cline whispered in agreement, the man going on to pause for a second as he glanced at the ground in thought before his eyes worked their way back up to mine, offering me a searching look. “What did you do with their bodies…afterward?”

“We buried them together in our town’s graveyard along with our other fallen,” I replied, meeting the man’s gaze. “We had no way of knowing what traditions they may have lived by or beliefs they followed, but we tried to honor them as best as we could by ours.”

“I…believe you,” Cline said, nodding slowly at me. “Thank you.”

There was a brief silence as the man glanced over towards Kara sitting beside him, the two of them sharing some sort of unspoken communication. Lasting for a second, whatever message passed between them resulted in the man letting out a sigh and turning his head back towards us.

“After hearing your story, I think I might have been mistaken in thinking that you really weren’t here to help us,” Cline said, his eyes slowly scanning over each of us as he spoke. “And I am sorry for that. This place here…twists everything if you’re here long enough. Makes it hard to trust anyone at all, because you just don’t know what will happen tomorrow.”

“I can only imagine,” I replied. “But that’s why we really need your help more than anything right now. I don’t know what the orcs and the Dread Crew are planning here, let alone how to get around this place or where the city even is, but if we don’t stop them soon, we might not get another chance.”

“I agree,” the man stated. “Which is why you need to talk to Aryana. She’ll be able to tell you everything that you need to know about how best to hurt the orcs here…and what exactly Garr was up to.”

“Wait, what are you talking about, Cline?” Kara asked after the man finished speaking, turning to look at him with a strange expression. “Aryana is dead. She was killed weeks ago…wasn’t she?”

“Ah, no,” Cline replied, shaking his head at the woman. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” I repeated in a curious voice, wondering where exactly this conversation had taken a turn to. “What does that mean? And who is she in the first place?”

“You’ll have to get it from her,” Cline replied simply, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke. “I’ve said probably all I should say about that.”

“Uh, okay,” I said, not sure what to make of the vague reply but happy to have made some sort of progress. “What happens now then? You take us to her?”

“Don’t have to,” the man answered, his attention turning to look out into the forest around us. “She’s already here. Or she should be if I gave her enough time.”

“Wait, what?” I demanded, alarm shooting through me as I instinctively moved to turn my head in the direction that I saw Cline staring in. But no sooner did I start moving did I hear a woman’s voice suddenly call out from the opposite direction behind me, and instead, I twisted back in the opposite direction.

“That was plenty of time, Cline, thank you,” she said, the voice seemingly coming from an empty patch of forest as it spoke, at least at first.

But as I fixated on what I thought was the source of the voice, I saw a dark-haired half-elf suddenly appear amid the forest foliage, her skin and clothes visibly shimmering as a layer of magical camouflage peeled away to reveal her. Nor was she the only one that appeared, as five other figures also appeared behind her in a similar fashion, the group consisting of an eclectic mixture of humans, elves, arakissi, and even a single gronn. All of them were holding a variety of makeshift wooden weapons in their hands, though none were being held in a threatening manner.

“And while we’re on the subject of time,” the woman continued as she glanced at all of us, her voice gaining a harder edge. “You’re all fucking late. We expected you all to come looking for us weeks ago.”

Chapter 39

“What? Cat got your tongues?” the half-elf woman asked as we all stared at her blankly, her unexpected appearance causing us all to scramble and react to how effortlessly she had managed to sneak up on us. “Please don’t tell me you’re the best that Fredric was able to find if a little magic trick like that renders you all speechless.”

“You…you know Aldwin?” Constantine was the first to reply, managing to shake off his surprise the fastest as we all turned to face the new arrivals, our hands reaching instinctively for our weapons.

“Well, aren’t you a bright light,” she replied back with a snort despite holding her hands before her to indicate that she wasn’t a threat. “Did you figure that part out from when I mentioned him by name? Or was it something else that tipped you off?”

“I, uh, well…” the rogue stammered, obviously flustered by the woman’s response, his head turning to look at me. “Lyr?”

“I take it then that you must be Aryana,” I replied, taking Constantine’s cue as I finished my quick inspection of all of the new arrivals. As I did, I noticed that they were all similarly dressed as Cline and Kara, wearing nearly worn-out clothing that had long since seen better days. But despite that similarity between them, there was one notable thing that they were all missing, its absence sticking out like a brightly lit beacon.

None of them were wearing slave collars.

I wonder if that has anything to do with Kara thinking she was dead, I thought as I finished glancing between the group, the brief sentence being the only thing to cross my mind before the woman reacted to my earlier words.

“And there’s our second bright light,” she stated in the same tone as earlier, matching my roving glance over her party with one of her own, her eyes scanning over each of us in turn before finally landing on me. “Hrm. And I thought we had it hard here. Is Fredric having trouble feeding all of you? Or did something else happen to you? You almost look worse than that poor arakissi over there.”

“It was a side effect from using an artifact to kill a Naffarian slave-king,” I replied without a missing a beat, any self-consciousness I may have still had about my appearance having begun to fade in recent weeks. “But on the plus side, I actually don’t need to eat or drink anymore. So that’s handy.”

“Really?” she answered with sudden interest, several of the other slaves behind her showing the same. “Now that sounds like an interesting story.”

“And I’d be happy to share it,” I said. “But maybe after we’ve had a chance to bring the tension down a notch here and have some proper introductions go around.”

“Fair enough,” the woman agreed with a nod as she finally lowered her hands and assumed a relaxed expression. “And you have nothing to worry about from us. If Cline hadn’t cleared you, then you’d have never seen us.”

“We appreciate the vote of confidence,” I replied, wondering where exactly things would have gone had the opposite been the case as I matched the half-elf stance, feeling the tension slowly drain from my body.

“I’m sure you all do,” she said dryly as everyone else slowly began to relax too, two of her companions stepping forward to join Theia who was still at Zua’s side while the others moved closer to us. This movement prompted Kara to move towards them as well, whatever shock she might have had at the group’s sudden appearance being outweighed by seeing if she could help her friend.

“In either case,” the woman continued, having spared a glance towards the fallen lizardwoman before turning back to me, “yes, I’m Aryana. Aryana Blackwater, former Royal Knight of Eberia. I served with Fredric closely at times during the war—whenever our postings put us in the same place. And until I found myself caught up in all of this shit, I was getting ready to enjoy a nice fresh start in Aldford, away from all the poison in Eberia. But from what I managed to catch about your own experiences, I imagine that you can fill in the blanks about how exactly those plans went astray.”

“All too well,” I agreed, earning a grim nod from her as she continued speaking.

“As for now, assuming that you all haven’t been able to piece it together already, I serve as one of the resistance leaders among the slaves here, planning and waiting for an opportunity to bite back at our new masters,” she said. “An opportunity that before your timely arrival seems to have suffered yet another setback.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, giving the woman a somewhat defeated shrug at her words. “Had we known what was going on, we might have made a move to intervene and save Garr and Arcturus. Since we were coming in blind, we didn’t want to get involved in something without knowing the bigger picture.”

“Which is the smartest thing that you could have done,” Aryana said, waving away my apology without so much as a second thought. “Had you gotten involved and killed those orcs, you’d have at best triggered a brutal crackdown on the slaves here, or at worse, raised the alarm and gotten yourselves plus Garr and the others either caught or killed. At least with where we are now, the orcs are still unaware of your being here, which, believe me, is great for all of us, Garr and Arcturus especially.”

“But past that,” she continued, her face falling as she turned to look towards Cline with a questioning look, “that still begs the question of what happened to Garr in the first place and why he got caught.”

“Don’t know,” the man replied simply to the implied question as he reached into the very pocket that Berwyn had noted earlier to pull out what looked like a five-inch-long wooden spike, handing it over to Aryana without glancing at us. “Took care of mine and waited to regroup, then I heard him get pinched. Arcturus managed a distraction to get it to me, but he got nabbed because of it. They’ll be getting lashes and at least one rough questioning, but I’m not sure if they’ve been made.”

“Then we will need to hold our breaths and see if that’s the extent of their punishment this time,” Aryana replied softly as she took the piece of wood from the man and turned it over in her hands thoughtfully. As she did, I was able to see that a variety of what looked like magical symbols had been carved into the sides of the spike, giving it a rather exotic look. “In either case, I think that’ll be all for now. You should get back to somewhere where you’re seen before anyone notices you’re missing, and take Kara with you. You’ll have to brief her quickly and make sure she knows what’s at stake. I’m also afraid that from the looks of it, her friend is going to have to join us on a more permanent basis.”

“I’ll make sure she knows what that means,” Cline assured, the big man standing up without another word. As he did, he turned his head to give me a curt nod in farewell before stepping over towards Kara and the others. Unfortunately, however, I was suddenly too distracted to reply in kind to the man, having picked up on something in their exchange that didn’t make sense to my ear.

“Hold on a second, what do you mean this time?” I asked as I mentally replayed a portion of the conversation. “Garr and Arcturus have been captured before?”

“I wouldn’t call it exactly ‘captured’, but no, it’s not the first time they, or any of the others, have been taken for…let’s just call it enhanced questioning,” Aryana replied with a shake of her head. “And after saying that, I have a pretty good guess what you’re going to ask next, and I’ll be happy to explain it in due time. First, if you’re willing to indulge me, I’d like to hear the full story about what you told Cline—not just the highlights that we walked in on. If we’re going to be working together to sort out this shitshow here, I need to know what you all know and then start filling in what blanks I can.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Constantine asked, both him and the group having watched silently during our exchange so far. “You give us a little bit of a hard time and then boom we’re working together? Just like that?”

“Do I look like a woman with a lot of other options right now?” Aryana countered, going on to gesture at both herself and then her entourage. “Aside from a little bit of magic at our disposal and a few scraps of gear we’ve been able to stash away, what you see is all you get with us. On the other hand, you eight here are all fully kitted out with both weapons, armor, and magic. I’m not exactly in a position where I can ignore that.

“Hell, if I were to be brutally honest, the fact that you’re all from Aldford is just a bonus to me,” the woman went on to add. “Things are bad enough here that I’d pretty much take anyone with the gear you’re all wearing, assuming at least that I could point them in the right direction.”

“Well, I guess when you put it that way…” Constantine replied, shrugging his shoulders as he spoke.

“That’s the only way to put it,” Aryana stated. “And I’m not going to lie to you all, we’re in a desperate situation here, and your arrival couldn’t have come at a better time. Except for, you know, yesterday or literally any other day before it. But you’re here now and that’s what we have to work with.”

“And that we will,” I said as I settled down to retell our story once again, though this time I expected it to take much longer. “So. Where do you want me to start? And you’re sure we’ll be safe here? This might take a while.”

“From the beginning, if you don’t mind,” Aryana replied as she moved to sit down on a convenient rock nearby and settled in to listen. “And this place is safe enough as any here. Right now, the bulk of the slaves are working on harvesting the western half of the field, so there’s no reason for anyone to be wandering this far out. If they do, one of my people will warn us with plenty of time to spare.”

“All right,” I said, pausing briefly to collect my thoughts. “In that case then, we’ll start things a little earlier this time around…”

Starting anew once again, we all retold our story to Aryana and the others, this time going into much more detail with regards to the war we’d found ourselves in and how it had unfolded. A patient listener, for the most part, Aryana allowed us all to speak with only a handful of interruptions for questions, all of them revolving around the timing of when different events took place. Apparently, they’d noticed the fallout of some of our efforts long before the war had started, the most obvious being the one following our attack on the Grey Devils, thus cutting off the flow of new slaves. But beyond that, there had been an unusual amount of excitement from some of the orcs during the events at the Twilight Grove, the reason for which they hadn’t been able to place.

“Things were relatively calm here until around that time. I wonder what caused them to change…” Aryana mused, her eyes unfocused as she stared towards the ground, temporarily lost in her thoughts before she shook off her introspection and motioned for us to continue. “Sorry, that’s not important right now, please continue. Your war started with them shortly afterward, right?”

“Pretty much the very next day,” Cassius replied, the man going on to describe the first razing of Shadow’s Fall and the beginnings of our war with the Dread Crew.

From there, the conversation shifted to the progression of war itself, everyone speaking in turn to give the woman the full details that she sought. Leaving nothing out, we told her how the war progressed from its initial stalemate and into the full-blown conflict that it was today, eventually leaving her shaking her head in awe.

“Maybe I was a little unfair thinking that you should have all been here sooner,” she said as we finally wrapped up our story for the second time, several of her companions echoing the same. “From the sounds of it, you’ve all just been scrambling from disaster to disaster, and this is only the latest one in a long line of them. It’s a miracle itself Aldford is standing, let alone you all making it this far.”

“Well, you’re not exactly far off saying that,” Halcyon commented in a dry tone. “But honestly, at this point, we’re used to it.”

“I can certainly imagine why,” Aryana replied, shaking her head. “But I suppose there is something to be said that you’ve managed to overcome all of them so far. Hopefully, as Garr would say, fate will smile on you all one more time. Because after I tell you what you’ve all just walked into here, you may decide that it might be a better idea to walk back into the forest and forget this place even existed.”

“That sounds…ominous,” I answered, gauging from her tone that she was completely serious.

“Only because it is,” she said, exhaling sharply before continuing to speak. “But I promised you that I would tell you everything that you need to know about this place and the orcs, and so I will.”

Pausing to take a deep breath, it was then Aryana’s turn to begin her story of how exactly she’d come to be at Khudazal in the first place and her efforts in building a resistance to strike back at the orcs.

“I was with one of the first caravans to leave Coldscar to join Aldford,” she said, her eyes taking a faraway look as she started to speak. “There was me and fifteen others that had been either recruited to join the settlement or had simply heard about its founding and were interested in starting a new life out there. Of those fifteen, three of them happened to be adventurers—or rather bandits, except we just didn’t know it yet.”

Aryana paused for a second time to spit on the ground before she continued speaking, her head shaking from side to side as she did so. “They hit us a couple days out of Coldscar once we got moving, maybe two or three dozen of them just…swarming us without any warning. There was simply nothing that we could do. I like to think I’m no slouch when it comes to fighting; I survived nearly thirty years’ hard service in the war, after all. But to go up against that many bodies at once? Surrender was the only option.

“Especially when we only thought they were after our supplies and wagon,” she added, almost as an afterthought.

“But they weren’t,” I stated, trying to imagine how it must have been from their perspective.

“No,” Aryana said quietly. “It was when they rounded us up and told us to start marching northward that I realized something was wrong. My first thought was that they didn’t want any witnesses and that they were taking us to a hole or somewhere where they could get rid of us. But instead, they kept us walking. Straight until we reached the forest and then far into it.

“Marching us relentlessly, they took us to two different camps, one being some sort of grotto where they stashed our wagon and supplies, then to a second camp much farther in,” she said, turning to look me in the eye. “I think that was the same camp that you mentioned earlier in your story, where you fought those…things. It was there that we were handed off to a second group of adventurers and the man you call Carver.”

A shiver went through Aryana as she looked back towards the ground at the memory, eventually resuming her story. “They let us rest the night there before forcing us to march once more, this time towards the northwest, cutting through the forest until we reached its far border, only then shifting straight north along its edge. From what I was able to pick up from their conversations at the time, the inner heart of the forest was apparently too dangerous to travel though, due to the more vicious creatures that lived within.”

“We can definitely confirm that,” I stated, our recent journey through the Hartwyld and the monsters therein still rather fresh on my mind.

“I can imagine,” Aryana replied with a curt nod, her eyes flicking briefly to the dried blood and dirt that caked our armor. “Anyway, they had us walking for most of that day until near nightfall when we finally met the orcs. There was a group of them waiting for us with a barred wagon on the edge of where the forest met the plains. I’ll admit that I was a bit in shock at that point, not to mention exhausted, so I missed whatever they might have said to one another, but it was clear that the orcs were expecting us.

“I’ll spare you all of the details of what happened after that, but to sum it up, we were loaded into the wagon, taken to the city here, and then…processed,” she said, rolling up her left sleeve to reveal a fist-sized crimson brand in the shape of a broken skull on her forearm. “That’s when I got this, courtesy of the Crushbone tribe, one of the largest here among the orcs. During that time, they also tested each of us to determine who could wield magic or had received any training in it. Those who had been were segregated away from those who could not, no doubt because we were both more useful to the orcs but also more dangerous at the same time.

“Once we were separated, we were then collared,” Aryana continued, reaching up to touch her bare throat where the heavy iron ring that we’d seen on Cline and the other two slaves would go. “Those who were unable to cast spells received a simple iron shackle around their throat, and those who could received a special one, a siphon collar. It is designed to drain all the mana from their victim’s reserves until none remained. This was a crude yet effective way of making sure that they would be unable to cast spells—unless authorized by an orc slavemaster, who would be able to suppress the collar’s effects through the use of a special key that some of them carried, as well as authorize what spells its wearer could cast.”

“A mana-draining collar,” Halcyon stated in a curious tone once Aryana finished speaking. “That’s a bit more…advanced than anything I considered the orcs being able to do, but I can definitely see it being useful for keeping spellcasting slaves in line.”

“And the orcs are nothing but skilled in keeping slaves in line,” the woman replied, inclining her head towards the mage. “Most of the time at least.”

“How did you get rid of your collar then?” I asked while doing my best to suppress a shiver at the thought of a mana-draining noose around my neck. Given my dependency on mana to stay alive, being collared would effectively be a death sentence.

Which I guess would solve my problem of being collared in the first place, I added mentally—at least once I died and respawned elsewhere.

“That happened much later, maybe only a few weeks ago,” Aryana said. “But I stole a key from a slavemaster, shortly before I shoved him into a forge and set the foundry I’d been assigned to on fire.”

“It was at that point that I ‘died’ as Kara put it,” she went onto explain afterward. “But in saying that, we’ve skipped ahead a fair bit, though I suppose it’s not a bad spot to jump forward to. There isn’t much to say about the life of an orc slave, short of it being a grueling and degrading existence. In any case though, when the opportunity came to steal the key and vanish from sight, we’d already formed the beginnings of our resistance here, and my being at the orcs’ beck and call was beginning to interfere with our plans.

“‘We’, in this case, being myself, Garr, and an arakissi shaman named Senzin. Both of them had been here long before I arrived and had already started planning for ways to harm and hinder the orcs. Apparently, both Garr and Senzin’s people have been involved in a brutal war with the orcs for the last year, which they apparently started shortly after we routed their tribes in Eberia and broke our siege.”

“Hang on,” Cassius interrupted in an incredulous voice. “You’re telling us that the orcs picked two different wars right after Eberia kicked their ass? Why would they do that? I thought they moved to attack the Ascendancy that was encroaching on their territory to the east.”

“So did I. So did all of Eberia,” Aryana replied, simply offering the big man a shrug in response to his other questions. “Apparently, that wasn’t the case, though. At least not entirely. From what I’ve pieced together from the other slaves, the tribes all split up to defend each of their own individual territories respectively and found both of their peoples encroaching on it. Hence provoking the new wars in response.

“And, unfortunately, despite the beating that we gave them back in Eberia, they’ve managed to do a good job of pursuing those wars, especially the one against the gronn, based on what Garr has told me,” she said. “But that…is a story in itself and one that isn’t relevant to us right now. What is relevant though, is what came of it, which is an orc warlord named Krol who rose to fill the leadership vacuum that our war left among the orc tribes. It’s because of him that that the orc tribes have been able to reunify themselves so quickly after we broke them, and why we are where we are today.”

“He sounds like someone that we should be especially worried about, then,” I stated, wondering what kind of orc would be capable of dominating so many tribes in such a short timeframe.

“Only if you have a lick of sense about you,” Aryana answered in a grave voice. “Because he is the one that’s responsible for the corruption that you’ve all encountered, both him and his cult, who call themselves the Heralds of Riius. They supposedly serve some sort of dark god or spirit that they’ve all made a pact with.”

“Of course they do,” Caius mused in a soft voice as we all took a second to process the woman’s words, several mutters breaking out in the process. “Every story needs a dark god at some point. Why not have one here where we have to deal with it?”

“Because we’re the special kind of lucky,” Constantine replied with a grunt, prompting a second chorus of grumbling before our voices eventually died down enough to allow Aryana to continue her story.

“All that you’ve encountered so far—the corrupted monsters, the spirits, and more—it’s all because of them,” she said while glancing between each of us. “But his reach doesn’t stop with just the orcs either. He’s also somehow even managed to fold a clan of arakissi into his tribe, something we’ve never seen the orcs do. In either case, they also wield the same corruption and venerate the same entity that his tribe does, giving them a bond no other tribe can match.”

“We’d heard rumors that the orcs had allied with some of the arakissi,” I said slowly, unsure of how much I was able to say before the in-game filters cut me off, “but we weren’t sure if it was actually true.”

“Oh, they’re true, all right,” Aryana confirmed. “The other orc tribes definitely don’t like it, but they can’t argue with the results that Krol’s magic has brought them, nor are they strong enough to defy it, so they stay in line.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing to know the name of your enemy,” I mused, reaching up to scratch my chin as I considered what Aryana had said. “Do you think if we took him out it would cause the orcs to fall apart?”

“Probably, if at least for a time,” the woman replied without missing a beat but also shaking her head as she spoke. “But I’ll cut that train of thought short right now. He’s not here. Never has been as far as I’ve been here. He’s apparently still involved in the war against the gronn as well as calling more of the northern tribes to his banner. Apparently, there are even more of them even farther north that never answered the call to wage war against Eberia.”

“Well, that’s great. More orcs are exactly what we need here,” Constantine grunted as we all absorbed that newest bit of information. “But who’s running the show here then if he isn’t?”

“His two lieutenants, or at least whatever the orc and arakissi equivalents are,” Aryana replied. “The orcs are led by a shaman by the name of Zhul and the arakissi by a necromancer called Sthera. Of the two, Zhul effectively rules Khudazal in terms of directing the various tribes here under Krol’s banner while Sthera spends her efforts on directing the war against her people. I’m afraid I don’t know all the details, but from what I’ve heard, she apparently has half a dozen or more arakissi clans that answer to her beck and call in the swamps to the east. At any rate, attacking and killing either of them might work to throw things into chaos for a time. But unless you’ve brought a score or three more of your people that you haven’t told me about, I doubt that you would be able to even reach them before you are caught, killed, or both.”

“Then what exactly are our options going forward?” I asked, starting to get an unsettling feeling that our desperate idea of raiding Khudazal might have been impossible from the get-go.

“This is,” Aryana replied as she held out the engraved wooden spike that she’d been holding all this time for all of us to better see. “I’m sure you’ve all been wondering what exactly this thing is and why it was so important that Garr not be caught with it. And the answer to that is because it’s a blightspike—one of countless many that we have hiding throughout the gardens here as we prepare ourselves to strike at the orcs the best way we can.”

“By attacking their food supply,” Berwyn stated as we all stared at the spike. “You have all been spreading the blight we heard Garr mention before he was taken.”

“We have,” she confirmed, nodding her head once in response to the monk’s statement. “Or rather both Garr and Senzin have been. They have both spent the last few weeks cultivating and preparing the blight so that it would consume the entirety of the garden’s crops. If we can finish their plan, then it would completely cripple the orcs’ war efforts in this region while allowing us to—”

Aryana stopped speaking as two shrill whistles echoed out in the distance, her head turning to look out in the direction of the garden.

“Someone’s coming,” she said as she stood up, her eyes flicking over towards us as she spoke. “One of ours.”

The words were barely out of her mouth before we all heard hurried movement echoing out through the forest, followed shortly after by a panting Tul’Shar who rounded the edge of the compost pile at a run. Breathing heavily, the man’s eyes promptly went wide with panic the second that he saw all of us, clearly not having expected to run into a group of armed and armored adventurers rising to meet him. Fortunately, however, Aryana was ready for the man’s surprise, her voice speaking out as soon as she saw him.

“They are with us,” she stated as she strode forward between our ranks, cutting short his panic before he could do anything rash. “What’s going on? Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Urgent news from the city,” the Tul’Shar replied in a raspy voice as he slowed to a stop a short distance away from us, pausing for a second to take a deep breath. “We’ve received word that Senzin was taken.”

“What?” Aryana demanded, her voice suddenly breaking. “W-why?”

“We don’t know yet,” he answered with a shake of his head. “But they took him and all of the earthspeakers from his garden about an hour or two ago without warning.”

“Fuck!” she hissed in response. “Do they know? Are they rounding up more of us?”

“I don’t know,” the man replied earnestly. “I couldn’t find out because they’ve all begun to move. Not just a handful, but all of them. They are moving out to the west, ready for war.”

“Hold on a second,” I said cutting into the conversation before either of them could say something else, suddenly feeling a cold spike begin to develop in the pit of my stomach. “Who just began to move?”

“The other tribes,” Aryana answered in a stunned tone as she turned back to look at me, her eyes unfocused as she spoke. “I didn’t have a chance to tell you yet, but several new tribes arrived from the north a few days ago and settled in around the city. We thought they were here to join the war on the arakissi, but if they’re heading back out to the west…”

Aryana’s voice trailed off as her eyes slowly regained focus and locked directly onto mine, any further words unnecessary as she saw the realization in my expression.

They were headed to Aldford.

Chapter 40

I watched silently while staring down at all the moving shapes below me, my eyes carefully darting from cluster to cluster as I tried to get a rough count of their numbers.

Twenty-five hundred at least, I thought as I reached the last group of orcs and exhaled a slow breath in an attempt to calm my thundering heart, which had yet to settle despite it having been nearly a half-hour since I’d begun counting. Maybe as many thirty-five depending on how many already left before I got here, though it’s probably closer to assume thirty. Depends on how pessimistic I want to be. Even if I try and stay on the positive side, there’s still that massive construct that we saw in the feed somewhere around here, assuming that the orcs haven’t already sent it on ahead.

<It appears to be a formidable force,> Amaranth’s voice filtered through my mind, cutting my thoughts short. <Do you think it can be stopped should they truly be marching on us?>

<I don’t know,> I replied as I shifted my attention towards my familiar who was perched slightly above and beside me on his own thick branch of the tree that we were currently hiding in. Stretched out down the length of the limb the way only a cat could manage, Amaranth had balanced himself perfectly to assume a pose of lazy rest, one of his paws dangling loosely in the air beneath him. <It all depends on when—and even if—our reinforcements arrive. And in what number, too. If enough of them show up, then we might have a chance. If they don’t…>

My mental voice trailed off as I refused to mention the obvious conclusion to our failure to stand up to the orcs, a stubborn part of me feeling that if I didn’t speak of it, then it wouldn’t come true. Instead, I shifted my grip on the branch that I was holding onto for balance and looked upward, searching for an even higher vantage point.

<Let’s go a bit higher,> I told Amaranth as I spotted a distant branch that looked thick enough to support my weight. <I want to get a better look at the city and scan over it with an ætherscope.>

Trusting that the cat would follow me at his own pace, I bent my legs and leapt straight upwards, triggering Blink Step as my feet left my perch. Watching the world blur for the briefest of instants as I teleported myself straight upwards before snapping back into focus, the next thing I knew I was reaching out to grab hold of the branch I’d spotted. Holding onto it tightly, I carefully pulled myself up and onto it, feeling my stomach flutter in response to the tree’s sway which was much more pronounced this close to its peak.

Whoa, I mentally grunted as I wrapped my legs around the branch, second-guessing my decision to climb even higher up the massive tree. Closing my eyes tightly, I exhaled my best attempt at a calming breath as I tried to settle myself, mentally replaying the last two hours that had ended up with me hiding in a tree some hundred and fifty feet above the ground.

After receiving the warning that both Senzin had been captured and the orc tribes had begun to mobilize, Aryana had been forced to pause the remainder of her briefing in favor of verifying and then spreading the word of what had happened. Ready to help in any way that we could, we found ourselves swept up into the flurry of activity that followed, our group partially splitting up in the process. Wanting to get her own eyes on the orcs’ movement and also attempt to contact other slaves that may have a better idea of what was happening, I found myself assigned to Aryana, along with Constantine as we headed towards Khudazal itself.

Along the way she was able to give me a truncated briefing of what the resistance’s plans originally had been with the blightspikes and how they were designed to work in conjunction with a ritual spell that both Garr and his follow earthspeakers had been crafting. Their goal had been to use the spell to trigger an explosive growth of blight across all three of the druidic gardens that they’d cultivated, rendering it useless for the orcs and denying them their most critical food sources. But in addition to blighting the gardens, Aryana and Senzin had come up with a plan to stage a mass breakout amongst the slaves at the same time that the ritual was taking place. Their hopes being that by timing both two events to occur simultaneously they would be able to cause enough confusion amongst the orcs for at least one of them to succeed, if even only partially.

Unfortunately, however, the resistance had hit a major snag in their preparation of the blighting ritual, in that the blightspikes that they had already placed had prematurely begun to affect the crops that they’d been placed close to. Given the sheer number of them that they’d planted and the presence of suddenly dying crops, it didn’t take long for the orcs to figure out that something was amiss, immediately taking out their anger on the slaves they believed responsible. As a result, this left Garr and the other earthspeakers desperate to buy time and assure the orcs that they were working to control the blight’s spread while working to do the opposite as quickly as they could before they were found out.

Which, based on the initial news so far, seemed that they finally had been as the orcs had begun to round up a sizable number of the druids and shamans that they’d enslaved.

However, given our armed and armored nature, Constantine and I, plus Amaranth once we’d caught up to him, couldn’t easily blend in with the slaves that Aryana needed to talk to in order find out what had happened. Instead, the woman needed us for a pair of other tasks, the first being for someone to watch her back without being noticed as she contacted her people. Given the level of paranoia that she operated under, she couldn’t completely dismiss that someone hadn’t sold her and her people out and that a group of orcs would be looking to round them up in short order. To that end, she elected to take Constantine with her as she did her rounds, the man being more than stealthy enough to trail her without being noticed and help her should she end up in trouble.

And unfortunately we can’t exactly tell Aryana about the feed that we saw back in reality either, I thought as my heart finally started to slow its rapid beat, allowing me to shift my grip in preparation to stand. If there are any Dread Crew here at the city, which there probably are, Carver probably has those he trusts jumping at anything and everything that’s out of place, thinking that it could be someone trying to backstab him. Or worse, he is expecting us to try and take a shot at him and is pre-emptively panicking and getting the orcs to crack down on suspicious behavior.

It was that particular line of thinking that left the second task to both Amaranth and me, which was to confirm the orc tribes’ movement and ensure that they weren’t preparing to do something even more unexpected. Of course, I imagined too that Aryana wanted to give me a chance to see the mobilizing orcs with my own eyes in order to get their measure. After all, if they were really heading towards Aldford, then it was only a matter of time before we would find ourselves standing directly in their way. To that end, Amaranth and I decided to make the most of our magical abilities, specifically Blink Step and Jump, to stealthily approach the city from a somewhat unorthodox angle that few others would be able to manage.

That angle being from above.

Using our abilities to either teleport or leap high into the massive two-hundred-foot-tall trees that made up the Hartwyld, Amaranth and I effortlessly climbed upwards into the thick forest canopy overhead until we were hidden from sight. From there, we moved from tree to tree until we finally reached the sheltered glade that hid the ancient Irovian ruin and the orc tribes that had since moved in to call it home.

Steady. This would be a really bad time to fall, I thought as I slowly rose into a standing position on the branch, reaching out to grab the tree’s trunk in order to find my balance. Just a quick scan and then we can start finding our way back down.

Moving carefully, I took a few tentative steps forward on my newfound perch, timing my movements so that they were in sync with tree’s gentle sway. As I did, I sensed Amaranth appear somewhere to my left, the cat saying nothing as he settled himself once again, waiting for me to finish what we’d come here for. Eventually, I reached a point where I was able to pull a thinner branch out of my line of sight, the slight movement giving me a better view of the sprawling city in the distance.

And there it is, I thought as I looked down at Khudazal, the three dozen or so feet I’d added in height to my vantage point giving me a better view than I had earlier.

Set in the center of a wide oval-like glade, the orc city was a haphazardly sprawling affair and couldn’t possibly have stood out more against the forest around it. It spread outwards from around the ancient remains of a large and crumbling Irovian fortress, its construction a patchwork of mismatched and varied building styles. From what I could infer from my vantage point, it seemed that the orcs had purposefully segregated themselves from one another, my guess being along their tribal lines, each of them building their own small pockets of the overall city.

Scanning the settlement carefully as I considered my theory, my eye landed on one end of the city where there was a section of what looked like fairly well-crafted structures, built solidly from wood and lumber. But as I shifted my attention back westward, I saw the buildings abruptly change as I reached a certain point, the sturdy if rough structures being replaced by exceptionally crude ones made from what looked like dirt and mud. Noting the strange difference, I continued to sweep my attention even farther along, the mud huts eventually transitioning to a collection of large tents that stretched onwards for a small portion of the city before changing yet again.

It seems like the differences between the tribes that Aldwin told us about don’t just stop at their fighting styles and tactics, but also extend outward to their way of building and community life, I thought as I finished my initial sweep through the city, noting that it was filled with dozens of bright fires from within its sprawling expanse despite the early hour. The result had several thick plumes of smoke rising from amongst the settlement, billowing upwards until they vanished into the ash-covered canopies of the trees that hung overhead. From the looks of those fires, too, it doesn’t look like every single member of the orc tribes are leaving either. Some of them look to be staying back…though maybe not as many as we’d like.

Shrugging off that train of thought for the useless dead end that it was, I instead turned my attention inwards towards the heart of the city where the weathered remains of what used to be an Irovian fortress stood. Towering over the city around it, there was little doubt that the place had been built with war in mind, the thick stone wall surrounding it giving it a formidable appearance despite the visible toll time had taken on it. Weathered, cracked, and even sporting some signs of ancient damage, the stone barrier encircled what I assumed was a large inner courtyard, whatever that it contained hidden from me despite my elevated vantage point. The only thing that I was able to see was the remains of a shattered citadel that rose just above the walls, something, be it the passage of time, or more likely, extreme violence, having caused a portion of it to collapse.

I wonder if the civil war that the Irovians fell into was responsible for damaging this place or if it was from their war with the Nafarr, I thought as I looked over the place, my eyes scanning over the distant cracks and missing chunks that I didn’t think could be explained by decay alone. Whatever the case though, it certainly looks like it took its toll. Same as it did to those ruins back in the Hartwyld. Not that any of that has stopped the orcs from moving in though. They look right at home here.

Staring onwards at the ruins for the next few minutes in silence, I did my best to commit what I saw to memory, in the feeble hope that it would maybe one day prove to be useful. I wasn’t sure where exactly the next few days, let alone weeks, would take us, but if we somehow managed to survive and turn things back in our favor, I had little doubt of what our end goal had to be. As long as Khudazal was occupied by the orcs, it would be a perpetual threat to us, leaving us with only one choice.

We had to destroy it.

Or failing that, we’ll have to rout the orcs badly enough that they’ll flee back north and stop being a threat to us, I added mentally as I continued to inspect the city. If at least for long enough for us to catch our breath and figure out what to do next. That warlord that Aryana mentioned, Krol, is likely going to be our next problem afterward. Especially if he has even more orcs at his beck and call. Or if not him, then that arakissi necromancer that he’s apparently allied himself with, Sthera—assuming we don’t take care of her sooner.

But I suppose we’re getting ahead of ourselves there, aren’t we? I asked myself with a slight frown, my attention shifting to the corner of my vision where a quest update alert still hung, the thing having appeared shortly after I’d reached my perch above Khudazal. We still have a long road ahead of us before that becomes something to worry about. Right now, you have more immediate things to worry about.

Letting out a slight sigh at that thought, I decided to call up the update once again to read through, my eye skimming through its contents until I reached the bottom.

War Quest Update! New Optional Objectives Discovered!

Journeying northward from Aldford and through the Hartwyld, you and your companions finally manage to reach the orc stronghold, Khudazal. But no sooner do you arrive on the outskirts of the city, on the edge of a massive druidic garden, when you find yourselves witness to a group of orc slavemasters terrorizing a group of slaves. Wisely choosing to stay hidden, you waited until the orcs left and made contact with the slaves, hoping to collect information on the region. Unfortunately, the initial contact with the slaves proves to be a difficult experience, some of them exhibiting extreme distrust toward outsiders.

Despite this challenge, however, you eventually managed to win the slaves over with your words, earning an audience with Aryana, one of the leaders of the resistance amongst the slaves who are desperately looking for a way to harm the orcs and escape their clutches. Speaking with her, you manage to gain a picture of what life is like within Khudazal as well as gain valuable intelligence about the orcs’ leadership. But before Aryana could completely finish briefing you, you were all interrupted by a dreadful message–one of the other resistance leaders has been captured, and the orc tribes around Khudazal have begun to mobilize, heading out westward, their most likely destination being Aldford itself.

Scrambling in the hours afterward to determine a plan of action going forward, you find yourselves with a number of opportunities before you on how best to strike at the orcs. But be sure to choose one quickly.

Because time is running out.

Objectives:

Find Khudazal: 1/1 (Complete)

Find Aldford’s Lost Settlers: 1/1 (Complete)

Kill Krol the Corruptor: 0/1

Kill Zhul the Shadoweater: 0/1

Kill Sthera the Deathspeaker: 0/1

Rescue Garr: 0/1

Rescue Senzin: 0/1

Rescue as many slaves as possible: 0/?

Blight the Southern Garden: 0/1

Blight the Eastern Garden: 0/1

Blight the Northern Garden: 0/1

Stop the Orc Invaders: 0/1

Nothing like a sense of urgency to get the blood flowing, I thought dryly as I finished reading the update, noting the sheer amount of options that lay before us. Some of them, such as finding and killing Krol and his lieutenants, I knew were already too far out of reach for us to worry about, if at least based on what Aryana had told us. That left us with the most obvious choice of blighting the orc gardens and ruining their food supply, which, if we succeeded in doing, would then drastically hinder the orcs’ ability to march on Aldford and afford us a chance to counterattack. But in order to do that, we’d need to somehow rescue both Garr and Senzin from wherever the orcs have taken them and hope that they’re both in good enough shape to finish what they started. If they aren’t, or if we can’t find them…

I let out a mental shrug as my thoughts trailed off once again and forced myself to reach into my pocket to pull out my ætherscope, remembering the reason why I’d climbed even higher up the tree.

Best to let Aryana and the others worry about that, I told myself as I pulled the bone wand free and clutched it tightly in my hand. They have their jobs and you have yours. Trust that they’ll sort it out before you start poking holes in things and getting yourself worked up.

Feeling that might be easier said than done, I did my best to listen to my subconscious and adjusted my balance before activating True Sight with my ætherscope in hand, the ability causing my vision to take on an azure hue. In the seconds that followed, I slowly began to see countless hints of magic appear in the distance throughout the city, showing first as vague and nebulous auras before becoming more distinct and easier to see.

Or at least they did everywhere in the city except for within the Irovian ruin at its heart, the broken citadel remaining perfectly dark in my vision, as if I hadn’t activated my ability at all.

Huh, that’s weird, I mused once everything had sharpened enough for me to focus, my eye shifting to fixate on the dead spot that was seemingly devoid of any magic at the center of Khudazal. There’s just…no magic there? I don’t think I’m too far away for it to be in range—

Flinching mid-thought, I was interrupted by a flash of crimson energy suddenly spreading outwards from amid the dead zone of magic, the pulse lasting for a second before vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. However, no sooner did it do so did a ripple then pass throughout all the magical auras that surrounded the city, each of them rippling and bending as they were drawn inwards towards the central keep. Lasting for a handful of seconds afterward as the effect propagated outwards in a ring, the magical signatures rapidly stabilized afterward, resuming their normal shapes and glow as if nothing had happened.

Whoa, what was that? I exclaimed mentally, feeling my eyes widen as I stared towards the city, all my previous concerns and worries fading away in light of what I’d just witnessed. Did something just try pulling all of the magic surrounding the city towards it? Whatever it was, it happened so fast that I don’t know if I even saw it right. Everything still looks the same from what I can tell, and no one down there seems to be panicking about what just happened, but does that mean that they don’t know it happened? Or that they’re already used to it?

My thoughts racing at the strange sight that I’d witnessed, I couldn’t help but spin up a variety of theories to explain what could have possibly caused what I’d seen. Starting with the most obvious, I considered that it could be something to do with the Irovian ruin itself, my thoughts immediately shifting towards the tower. That place had been designed to affect magic somehow, most likely by suppressing its effects through the annulment sphere that had been housed within it.

Maybe this citadel has a similar function that managed to survive all this time? I wondered eagerly as I focused my attention on the place, curious to see if the effect repeated itself. If they were ready to fight the Nafarr, they must have had a way to negate their magic. But then again…those corrupted spirits that the orcs summoned are capable of eating magic, too. Maybe I’m seeing something that they’re responsible for? Though what it could be, I don’t know. Even with True Sight, I have a hard enough time even spotting those things up close, let alone spotting any of them this far away. But they kind of do look like distorted blurs or even holes that absorb any and all nearby magic. Whatever this thing here is…it’s just on a bigger scale. Maybe it’s being caused by a larger spirit?

Shivering at that final thought, I shook my head to rid the idea from my mind and instead focused my attention back on the city itself, trying to see if there was anything that might have changed. Unfortunately, given just how recently I’d started my initial scan, I wasn’t familiar enough with the various magical auras to tell with complete certainty.

Which meant I only had one choice.

<We’re going to be settling in a bit here for the next little while,> I told Amaranth while simultaneously checking party sense and noting that the others in the group were still fairly spread apart. There was still plenty of time before we truly had to start heading back to regroup.

<I think I found something interesting worth keeping an eye on a bit longer.>

Chapter 41

“…it did it again six more times over the next two hours, but not on any sort of consistent schedule that I could see. Sometimes they happened right after another, other times it was nearly an hour before I saw it again,” I explained, glancing between Aryana and the group around me as I spoke, still feeling relieved to finally have my feet back on solid ground.

We’d all managed to regroup back in our original meeting spot after following through on our various tasks throughout Khudazal and had begun the process of catching one another up on our experiences. Given my discovery, however, and its rather strange nature, it had quickly moved to dominate the conversation, Aryana and her entourage reacting to it with a fair bit of surprise.

And, of course, worry.

“But despite that,” I continued, glancing around the circle as I spoke, “I didn’t notice it really do anything to the various wards and magical signatures throughout the city itself beyond cause a brief ripple every time it flared up. The one thing I noticed is that whatever the flash is, it’s strongest the closest to the citadel itself and fades the farther out it goes. Enough so that the magical auras on the city’s edge weren’t even affected.”

“That’s all…so strange,” Aryana replied as I finished speaking, the resistance leader having been listening with rapt attention since I broached the topic. “In all my time here, none of us have noticed anything like what you’ve just said, nor did our spellcasters report any odd feelings within the city. I can think of several of them alone that would have been responsible for managing some of the wards that you saw within the city, and they’ve never noticed a thing.”

“Then maybe it’s an after effect of something Irovian in the keep like Lyr said?” Constantine suggested. “His earlier theory about it being something they might have used against the Nafarr ages ago sounds plausible. And we all know firsthand that their magical artifacts and technology have an uncanny tendency to somehow survive the centuries since their fall and find ways to inconvenience us.”

“Assuming what it is doing is inconveniencing anything at all,” Halcyon pointed out, his attention shifting over towards Aryana. “I don’t suppose any of your people have seen anything interesting in the citadel there regarding its old owners? I wouldn’t think that the orcs would usually be the type to fiddle with anything that they might have found, but with what you’ve told us about them so far…”

“I am afraid I don’t know,” the resistance leader replied, shaking her head at the mage’s question. “The citadel has been a place most strictly off-limits to all slaves and even most orcs unless specifically summoned since I arrived. The few slaves who are summoned to serve there are never seen leaving it alive again.”

Aryana paused as a thoughtful expression crossed her face. “Actually, now that think of it, they aren’t even seen leaving dead. Any slaves that we’ve seen pass beyond the citadel’s walls have simply vanished afterward.”

“Well that’s not creepy or suspicious at all,” Kilgore grunted in a wistful tone. “I wonder what the hell they’re doing in there then? That’s two weird things going on there that we know of right off the bat.”

“A question we’ve asked ourselves many times,” Aryana answered with a resigned shrug. “But I am afraid we’ve found no answers thus far.”

“I imagine that it’s nothing good if our streak of luck has anything to say about it,” I stated, not having truly expected to find an easy answer for the mystery I’d found, assuming there even was one in the first place. “But I guess that’s a problem for the future, assuming we have a future to worry about. Were you able to find out exactly what happened to the others?”

“I did, sort of,” Aryana replied with a sigh, her expression tightening as the subject, and by extension everyone’s attention, shifted over towards her. “And I am afraid I have a few crumbs of good news to share, along with a whole bunch more of bad news to follow afterward.”

“Does news usually come any other way?” Constantine asked in a dry tone as we all edged in a little closer to the woman, eager to hear what she had to say.

“Perhaps to other more fortunate people,” the woman replied offhandedly before pausing to take a quick breath and collect her thoughts. “Anyway, the good news that I have to share is that all of those who were taken earlier this morning are still alive. Or perhaps I should say were still alive as of a couple hours ago when they were taken to the same camp that your familiar tracked Garr and Arcturus to.”

“That’s a relief, then!” I exclaimed as my attention dropped to Amaranth beside me, a hand reaching out to give him a reassuring pat.

After splitting up from us, he had managed to follow the group of orc slavemasters to a large encampment on the southern side of Khudazal where the majority of the slaves were kept and housed when not working. Apparently, the orcs had trust issues when it came to the slaves being housed inside the city itself and instead had concentrated them into three large camps separate from it, one for each of their massive gardens where they could be better watched. But as I thought about that particular design, I wondered why Senzin would have been taken to the camp closer to us, rather than the one that supported the eastern garden, saying as much to Aryana.

“I’m afraid that is where our bad news begins,” she answered after I finished posing my question. “For whatever reason, the orcs have chosen to take every single person that they have rounded up today to the southern camp, regardless of which home camp they may normally belong to. I do not know if it is because they are looking to put each of them to the question in front of one another or simply to interrogate them all together easier at once.

“But what I do know,” Aryana continued, placing a special emphasis on the word, “is that other adventurers belonging to the Dread Crew were seen with the orcs and in the camps themselves helping them round up the slaves.”

“Ah, shit,” I cursed, several others in the group echoing out with similar sentiments as they realized what that meant for us. “Do you know how many of them there were?”

“At least a handful, but beyond that no,” Aryana answered back with a shake of her head. “The slave I spoke to was somewhat anxious at seeing them and did not linger any longer than they had to after spotting them.”

“Can’t blame them on that,” Cassius grunted, earning several sympathetic sounds from amid our two groups. “Especially not after what they’ve done.”

“No, we certainly can’t,” Aryana agreed. “However, despite that, the slave was able to confirm that Garr, Arcturus, and several other gronn were all taken to a prison on the eastern side of the camp together for questioning.”

“Well, that’s useful to know,” Kilgore commented. “Maybe even more useful than getting a total count on the Dread Crew. At least we know where they are.”

“For now at least,” Aryana said in a cautious tone. “We cannot assume that they won’t be moved over the course of the day depending on what the orcs or these adventurers have in mind for them. Unfortunately too, we do not know where Senzin was taken once he arrived in the camp. The only scrap of information that I was able to gather about him was a rumor that he’d been involved in an altercation of some sort, one that possibly resulted in the death of several of Krol’s arakissi followers.”

“Possibly?” Cassius repeated as he seized on the word. “What does that mean? If he killed someone there would be bodies, wouldn’t there? What’s to guess at?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Aryana answered, traces of frustration appearing on her face. “The slave that I spoke to had heard of the incident from another, who again only knew of it second or third hand. I mention it to you all because when Senzin was seen being taken to the camp, there were several accounts of him being seen covered in blood. Blood that wasn’t his own.”

“Shit, so then if he did kill someone, or several someones for that matter, what does that mean for him?” I asked, feeling a heightened sense of urgency at the news. “Are they going to execute him then? Would him being Needed save him from that?”

“That all depends on what truly happened,” Aryana replied, giving me a shrug as she exhaled a slow breath to steady her nerves. “Because without his using magic, I can’t imagine how Senzin would have killed a single person, let alone somehow several. While he may be skilled in his own regard, he is not a warrior capable of such. And if he did use his magic, despite being apparently collared, the orcs would have likely killed him on the spot.”

“So it’s as good as a mystery when it comes to where he’s being kept in the camp then,” Constantine stated. “And we have no idea what actually happened to him to land him there in the first place. It might not even be related to the reason why the orcs started rounding up all their spellcasting slaves.”

“I’ve put out a request amongst the slaves, asking if anyone knows the true story of what happened and where he might have been taken, but until then…” Aryana said, her voice trailing off for a few seconds before she resumed speaking. “I might be too hopeful in saying this, but there is a chance that he may have just been a bystander for whatever happened. Perhaps there was a conflict between the orc slavemasters and the arakissi and a fight broke out. There is certainly no love lost between them, and it would not be the first time that one occurred.”

“Or,” Berwyn added in his trademark flat tone, “whatever Senzin did or was caught doing is what prompted the orcs to take action and begin collecting the slaves for questioning in the first place.”

“That…is possible as well,” the woman agreed, inclining her head towards the monk. “Though I truly hope not. Senzin’s role in our plans was easily the most sensitive of ours and much relied on him remaining outside of any action that would bring him risk for as long as possible. Because aside from helping Garr and the other earthspeakers to create the ritual to blight the gardens, his task was to try and secure an escape from Khudazal for as many of us as possible.”

“Right, I remember you mentioning that briefly,” I said, recalling the basic overview that Aryana had given me of the resistance’s plan during the hurried conversations we’d had before splitting up. “But where exactly were you all thinking to escape to in the first place? The only way I can see out of this place is straight into the forest and that’s just…”

“What? Crazy? Suicidal?” Aryana suggested with a raised eyebrow after I trailed off. “If so, then good. It is our hope that the orcs will think the same thing as well and choose not to chase us beyond a token effort.”

“Wait, are you serious?” I asked, caught a little off guard by what she’d said. “You were planning on leading the slaves straight into the Hartwyld?”

“Not entirely, no,” Aryana replied, shaking her head. “At least not unless things turned truly, and I mean truly, desperate and there was no other choice. A death by the creatures of the forest would be a much cleaner and quicker one than the orcs would give us should we manage to blight even one of the gardens and fail to escape afterward. At the very least, I would expect a punitive cull of those who remained behind, either by being forcefully turned into one of those abominations or being worked to death until starvation took us.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” I said, unable to find fault in the woman’s logic, as morbid as it might be. Even without being given extra reason, the orcs were cruel enough in their treatment of the slaves, and I could only imagine what they’d do if they decided to be purposefully vengeful. “So what’s your plan?”

“It was to escape into the Fens of Swyn by way of the Hartwyld,” Aryana answered, her eyes scanning over each of us as she spoke. “It is our hope that with a bit of speed, luck, and timely intervention that we would be able to avoid most of the creatures of the forest as well as Sthera’s forces to regroup with Senzin’s clan or one of their allies. It was his task to ensure that they were ready and in position to aid us once the time came.”

“Hang on a second there,” Cassius said eagerly. “You’re saying that like Senzin has a way of contacting his people from inside here. Does he?”

“After a fashion, yes,” Aryana replied, nodding at the man. “Among his people, Senzin is known as something called an astral walker. It is a type of mystic that is able to cast his presence to others he has met regardless of the distance between them. Ever since we have been able to free him from his collar and allowed him to regain his magic, he has worked to reach out to those among his clan. Last I heard, they were making great progress in preparing to help us…but that was several days ago. I have no idea how things may have progressed since.”

“A-are you serious?” Cassius demanded the instant that Aryana finished speaking. “You’re certain he can really talk to people at a distance? He’s just not saying he can, right? Because if it’s true…”

“I know it sounds surreal, but I can assure you that he is not lying,” the woman assured, turning her head to look directly at the man as she replied. “I held similar reservations until I saw him appear before me for the first time, despite knowing he was on the opposite side of the city. Furthermore, without his ability, I daresay that this resistance would have likely floundered in its infancy. It allowed us a way to pass messages between us without physically needing to meet, something that the orcs would have certainly noticed if given enough time.”

“Shit, if that’s the case, then finding Senzin just became critical,” Cassius said, his voice tinged with excitement as he turned his attention towards me. “Think of the possibilities, Lyr. If we can manage to save him and make contact with these other arakissi he’s allied with, then we can potentially open up a second front against the orcs here. And actually have help in dealing with them. Plus they’ll likely have adventurers of their own too.”

“That certainly would be helpful,” I said slowly as I considered what Aryana had told us about the lizardman. “But I can’t help but wonder if it’s because of his ability that he might have been taken? If he was confronted by Sthera’s people, then maybe they finally caught on to what he was capable of.”

“That…could be possible,” Aryana replied, looking a bit startled at that thought. “I hadn’t really considered that they may have been able to detect his magic. We’ve been using it for so long without any consequence…”

“Then it’s probably a good thing that those arakissi ended up dead,” Constantine mused.

“Perhaps you are right,” the resistance leader agreed, pausing for a moment to think. “But if Sthera came seeking Senzin purposefully, then her minion’s death won’t stop her for long. It’s only a matter of time before they send more looking for him.”

“Then we better not give it to them,” Cassius stated. “Because beyond what’s happening to Senzin, it looks like everything is starting to come to a head. The orcs reinforcements are on the move to Aldford, and the Dread Crew are in danger of finding the blightspikes you’ve all been hiding. If we don’t do something soon, like today, we might miss our chance entirely.”

“I am tempted to agree to that,” Aryana said, her tone taking on a faint sense of urgency as she spoke. “Because while I was hoping that we would have had a little bit more time to finish our preparations, there are too many things happening at once to chalk them up to coincidence. The enemy knows something of our plans and is looking to ruin it. We can’t let them do so without a fight.”

“I don’t disagree with either of you ,” I said as a chorus of agreements rose up from among our group. “But I have a feeling that’s all easier said than done. Because from what we’ve outlined just now, there are a ton of moving pieces that are all depending on one another, and we have a hell of a lot of unknowns to deal with.

“First and foremost, we need to find a way to rescue Garr and his earthspeakers from the camp he was taken to, because without them, we can’t blight the gardens and hit the orcs where it’ll hurt the most,” I stated as I began to run through our objectives in sequence. “But at the same time, since we’ll be in there already, we’ll also need to try and find Senzin, who unlike Garr, is being kept somewhere unknown, forcing us to burn time and search for him. Then also on top of those two objectives, we have the slave breakout, which now that I think about it, I’m a little hazy about. How exactly are we supposed to organize that?”

“You, specifically, aren’t supposed to at all,” Aryana answered, placing a heavy emphasis on the first word of her sentence. “The slave breakout has already long since been planned and the groundwork laid out weeks ago. It was one of the first things that we prepared for as we built the resistance over the last few months. All it would take is some time to spread the word amongst the other resistance members, and they would do the rest. There are even plans to create distractions amongst the orcs in the city in order to give us more time before they are able to respond to our attempt to free the slaves.”

“That’s a relief, then,” I replied, happy that there was at least one less thing to worry about. “Okay, so after we’ve broken Garr—and hopefully also Senzin—out from the camp, we then need to actually blight the gardens using their ritual, which from what I understand, requires the caster to be actually in them, right?”

“That is correct,” Aryana said. “From what I understand myself, each of the gardens needs to be blighted with their own separate rituals to trigger the blightspikes that we’ve implanted amongst the crops.”

“Which is where I see us having our first major hurdle. How are we going to get to all three gardens in time if the orcs have rounded up all of Garr’s people together in one place?” I stated as I continued to run through the course of events. “Because once we free them, we’ll be rushing out of the southernmost camp, which is about as far away as possible from the northern garden. In order to get to it, we would have to either cut through the city, which is probably a terrible idea if you’re planning your own distractions there, or waste more time taking the long way around it. Not to mention too, we’ll need to split our group up three ways, instead of two if we’re going to escort them to where they need to be, and I’m not so sure that’s a great idea. We would be spread far too thin if something drastically wrong happened.”

“You mean when something drastically wrong happens,” Constantine corrected, “because I highly doubt that the orcs are going to let us walk out of the camp unopposed, especially once the slaves start rioting.”

“Neither of you is wrong in what you say,” Aryana answered, giving us both a nod as we finished speaking. “I thought the same thing the moment I heard that the orcs had brought everyone to the same camp. Fortunately, however, we’ve made sure to have a handful of contingency plans in case the blighting ritual failed or we were discovered early.

“For this situation, I believe that our best plan would be to lead the escaping slaves from the northern camp into the garden to do as much damage as possible before continuing deeper into the forest. It wouldn’t be nearly as effective as the blighting ritual, but there are enough supplies within each of the gardens that we would be able to set several fires amongst the crops, which with some luck could potentially spread to consume all of it.”

“And possibly a good part of the forest if it gets really out of control,” Halcyon pointed out a little hesitantly, his eyes noticeably flicking towards Constantine as he spoke.

“If we are fortunate, perhaps it will,” Aryana replied, the prospect of starting a forest fire clearly the opposite of a concern for her. “But with how wet the season has been of late, and how quickly I would expect the orcs to douse any blaze to save the crops, I highly doubt it will spread any farther than the garden itself. If it does, then it will serve as good cover for the escaping slaves.”

“Then that’s what we’ll have to do for the northern garden,” I said while mentally checking off that particular roadblock, realizing that our meeting had somehow seamlessly switched into a planning session of what we were going to do next.

Not that there was really any doubt that we would be getting involved here, I thought as I went on to consider the next potential issue that I saw, silently hoping that whatever desperate plan that we ended up cobbling together here would be enough to see us through.

Because if it didn’t, it would be Aldford that paid the ultimate price for our failure.

“Okay,” I said as I took a deep breath and tried to settle my sudden bout of nerves that had my hands shaking. “So the next snag I see after that…”

Chapter 42

Monday, April 22nd, 2047 – 12:02 a.m.

My heart raced as I shifted my position slowly, bringing my body forward yet another foot. As I did, a line of sweat dripped down my face as I paused to listen for any signs that I’d been spotted, the cacophonous thunder of drums ahead making it difficult to hear anything above its incessant noise.

Almost there, I announced mentally as a stray breeze mercifully passed over me, giving me a brief respite from the hot night air. Just a little farther…

Breathing out a slow sigh, I lifted my head slowly and angled it towards my destination, my eyes fixating on the distant row of wooden spikes now just barely thirty feet ahead of me. It had taken us the better part of an hour to get this close to the slave camp without being spotted, the few roving sentries that the orcs had posted more than enough to warrant a cautious approach. Lowering my head back down, I paused for a second and checked party sense, silently hoping that everything was still going according to plan. After a few seconds of concentration, I became vaguely aware of Amaranth, Kilgore, and Constantine a short distance behind me, with Cassius and Berwyn farther towards the west, making a similar approach on the opposite side of the camp. The other, less stealthy members of the group, I sensed waiting patiently farther behind us and out of sight, their task to intervene if something went horribly wrong or once the slave riot began.

So far, so good. Now, where are those orcs? I asked impatiently as I stared up at camp ahead and the stretch of rough dirt separating it from us. We’d crept as close as the cover allowed, the creeping undergrowth of the forest that we’d been hiding in ending abruptly a few feet before me, making the final approach to the camp a question of speed, rather than skill. But even that wouldn’t matter if we ended up sprinting directly into an orc, or worse, an entire group of them. They’re late coming around this time.

Forcing myself to channel all the patience that I could muster, I settled in to wait, my eyes fixated on the camp ahead, waiting for the overdue patrol to appear. Minutes slowly ticked by with no sign of the sentinels, causing my mind to wander towards anxiety, thinking that something, somehow, had gone wrong with our plan.

Stop it, Marc, I hissed mentally as I felt my thoughts go astray, forcing them instead to shift towards my responsibilities. Don’t stress about what the others are supposed to be doing or what isn’t happening on schedule. Your job is to find Garr and the others. Focus on that and what you’re supposed to do afterward. The rest of it will either fall into place, or it won’t, and you can worry about it when it happens. Not before.

Exhaling a slow sigh as my thoughts came to an end, I risked a slight movement to rub the sweat out of my eyes along with the growing exhaustion that was also beginning to rear its ugly head. It had been a long day since we’d started planning our attempt to rescue Garr and the others earlier this afternoon, the hours since having blurred into a flurry of activity as we worked to put it into motion. Faced with a wide variety of tasks and objectives to accomplish and not nearly enough time to do them all in, that had forced us all to split up once again, each of us tackling our assigned responsibilities.

For the spellcasters in our group, that task involved them helping prepare the rest of the blighting ritual, Caius, Halcyon, and Theia working along with the other resistance members to craft the remaining blightspikes that were needed to finish seeding the gardens. While they focused on that task, those that were exceptionally skilled in remaining unseen, a prestigious group that included Constantine, Kilgore, and Aryana, worked to procure more of the special keys we needed to unlock the mana-draining collars that the orc slavemasters held. That then left it to us to try and plan out just how we were going to find a way into the slave camp where Garr, Senzin, and the others were being held, hopefully without alerting everyone in the process.

Finding the camp easily after leaving the garden, we spent the remainder of the morning and the majority of the afternoon carefully observing it, trying to find any feasible way of gaining entrance without being detected. At first glance, the task seemed to be impossible as we initially inspected the camp, or perhaps more aptly put, suicidal, given the size of our group and how busy the various comings and goings of both orcs and slaves were. It seemed that every few minutes there was either a group leaving or arriving without any sort of schedule that we could determine. Fortunately for us, though, the orcs had designed the camp to only have a single entrance, which made it easy for us to make sure that none of those we were looking to rescue were moved from the place. But despite the constant activity surrounding the slave camp preventing us from figuring out an easy way into the place, it did give us a perfect opportunity to account for something that we hadn’t fully considered up until that point: the levels of everyone coming and going.

Stretching from a measly level two goblin worker to a potent level twenty-eight orc warrior, the levels that we saw among the camp varied wildly with the majority of those in the camp leaning towards the midpoint of the range. At first, we were a little confused about why there was such a drastic level difference for this particular area, something that we’d certainly not seen during our battles with the orcs so far, or among the reinforcements I’d seen depart earlier. But after we gave the matter some thought, we easily came to the conclusion why.

The majority of those within the camp were non-combatants, simple workers, tradespeople, and other support type roles that kept the city of Khudazal functioning and not the hardened warriors we were used to facing.

That revelation quickly changed our outlook for our potential assault on the slave camp going forward. No longer did we assume that we would be facing a whole legion of potentially armed and armored orcs at parity to our level, but rather an eclectic mix of mismatched enemies with a good portion of them far weaker than us. After all, any orc that was stationed inside the place would be expecting to deal with poorly armed slaves and not a group of attacking adventurers.

Feeling a renewed sense of confidence at that discovery, we adjusted our plan to account for the level discrepancy, the once sixty to eighty orcs that we estimated the camp held was no longer an insurmountable obstacle—or at least not the same one that it had been earlier in the day, especially given the other thing that we noticed the longer that the day drew on.

The orcs were overconfident to the point of laziness.

With only a few vigilant sentries proving to be the exception, it seemed that most of the orcs in camp were paying nothing more than a token tithe to their surroundings and the slaves in their charge. By the time that night fell, there were only a handful of sentries posted near the camp’s entrance with a trio of irregular patrols walking its perimeter, the orcs assigned to doing so almost seeming sullen and annoyed to be assigned the task. But if that itself wasn’t enough to showcase the lack of discipline from within the camp, the massive party that the orcs seemed to be intent on throwing themselves certainly did.

Starting shortly after night fell, a slow thundering series of drums began to echo out through the forest, gradually growing in intensity as time passed until it assumed a steady if unending rhythm. Joining the drums shortly after were the signs of several fires throughout both the camp and the distant city itself, the nearby wispy smoke eventually carrying the smell of cooking meat to Amaranth’s, and by extension, my own nose. Given the recent departure of the orc reinforcements, the best explanation we could come up with for the event was that it was some sort of orcish celebration involving their impending conquest, but that, at its best, was a wild guess. Regardless of the reason, however, it served as one final advantage to help us make our move against the camp.

<The patrol comes,> Amaranth’s mental whisper filtered into my mind, causing my eyes to focus through the foliage we were hiding in and onto the camp’s ramparts ahead.

<About time!> I exclaimed with relief, the waiting having worked steadily to fray my already twisted nerves even further. The moment of truth was finally at hand—the instant where we’d finally see if our attempt to infiltrate the slave camp would pay off.

Or if we’d be spotted immediately and subsequently alert the entire camp to our presence.

<Get ready,> I sent to Amaranth, readying a spell in the back of my mind and holding it in place as the long-awaited-for patrol finally appeared.

Walking with scowls fixed on their faces, a pair of orcs then sauntered into view, their attention focused exclusively on one another as they walked, the incessant sound of the drums masking their conversation. Then as suddenly as they had appeared, they were past us, not even having bothered to spare a glance out from the camp’s ramparts towards where we were hidden.

Something that my nerves couldn’t help but be thankful for.

<Go!> I shouted mentally to Amaranth as the patrol vanished from sight, and I forced myself up from my hiding spot, revealing myself for anyone who happened to be looking in my direction to see. Knowing that we were now committed, I didn’t waste another thought before launching myself into a forward sprint, my attention now fixated on the two rows of sharpened stakes that lined the entirety of the camp.

Designed to funnel attackers towards easier avenues of attacks, the stakes would have been a formidable defense should we have tried to openly assault the camp, forcing us to attack it head-on through its entrance. But to the magic that Amaranth and I had, the barriers barely even caused us to break our stride. Channeling my stored spell as we ran, I cast Jump on myself, feeling Amaranth do the same, the spells allowing us to vault over the barrier effortlessly as if it weren’t even there.

Only to nearly fall straight into a third nearly hidden row of stakes a few feet behind the first two, no doubt emplaced to counter the exact tactic we’d just employed.

<Shit, look out!> I warned Amaranth while desperately thrusting my feet towards the ground partway through my leap, hoping to give myself an added boost to clear the unexpected obstacle. Grunting as I pushed off, I lunged over the spikes practically headfirst before landing in a somersault on the far side. Canceling out my momentum with my roll, I forced myself to my knees as I came to a stop, my eyes scanning for any sign that I’d been seen.

And promptly spotting a shirtless orc staring back at me completely wide-eyed, having just come around a row of tents deeper into the camp.

“Oh, fuck—” I managed to gasp as I saw the hints of alarm beginning to show on the orc’s face before everything dissolved into a spray of colors as I instinctively triggered Blink Strike.

Reappearing practically on top of the orc, I barely had enough time to catch a whiff of a strong alcoholic stench on his breath before I buried Splinter’s tip in his throat, having drawn it faster than I’d ever believed was possible. Planting my shoulder directly into the orc’s chest, I shoved him as hard as I could while twisting my blade, feeling it grate across bone before slicing through his neck entirely. Caught by surprise, both by my unexpected appearance and subsequent attack, the drunk orc never even had a chance, falling to the ground in heap, where two quick thrusts, one through the heart and another through the eye made sure that he would stay forever.

Shit, that was close! I exclaimed, the sudden wave of panic that I’d felt at my discovery warring with the sense of relief that I’d just barely managed to avoid disaster.

<An efficient start to our hunt,> Amaranth commented through our link, causing me to look behind me and see the armored cat stalking forward, his body held low to the ground as he moved.

<You mean a close call,> I said to my familiar as I glanced around urgently, looking to see where my desperate Blink Strike had taken me and if there were any other orcs nearby.

Coming up empty on the orc front, I found myself just past of the perimeter of the camp and on the edge of where a series of tents began, which I noted were all thankfully facing away from me. Scattered carelessly around me were several crates of various sizes, along with a few large piles of wood, some of them piled haphazardly into what looked to be a partially dug trench. Staring at the trench with confusion for a second, I tried to figure out what exactly someone had attempted to do before the realization clicked in my mind.

They were building a second line of defense here but then suddenly just stopped, I noted, seeing a handful of discarded tools lying on the ground, seemingly having been dropped and forgotten. Maybe this wasn’t supposed to be a slave camp at first? I can’t imagine they would have wanted to set this place up in a way where the slaves would be able to take control of it and then be able to hold it against the orcs.

But before I could get any further into my analysis, I was pulled out of my thoughts by the arrival of Constantine and Kilgore, their eyes going wide at the sight of the dead orc by Amaranth and me. Not wanting to risk speaking and attracting attention despite the drums, I saw Constantine simply mouth a curse word in my direction while indicating the body, to which I simply shrugged in response. Rolling his eyes at the both of us, Kilgore promptly snapped his fingers to get our attention, then pointed at the dead orc and a nearby crate in sequence before ending by tapping his wrist quickly.

Hide the body in the crate. Fast, I translated mentally, motioning for Constantine to help me with the task, the two of us grabbing the dead orc by the arms and feet, then unceremoniously stuffing him into the wooden box, hiding him from view. If everything went well over the next few minutes, the orcs would know full well that we were here, but until then, it paid to be careful.

<Another patrol approaches early!> Amaranth called out to me with a warning croak just as Kilgore replaced the lid on top of the crate, causing all three of us to dive for cover amid the mess that the orcs had left behind. Freezing in place, we waited for what felt like ages until I heard Amaranth’s second croak signal an all-clear. <They are gone.>

Springing up from there, we then organized ourselves, silently exchanging prearranged signals with one another before ending with a final wave, Kilgore and Constantine moving off to the southern end of the camp while Amaranth and I moved to the north. This was the part of the plan that we hadn’t been able to predict with any degree of certainty, and one that left far too much up to chance than I would normally have liked. Last we knew, Garr and the other gronn had been taken to a prison somewhere in the eastern half of the slave camp, but we hadn’t been able to find out specifically where that prison was in relation to everything else, leaving us searching half-blind.

So, in order to combat that uncertainty, we’d decided that our best option was to have the six of us pair off inside the camp. The idea being that three groups would be able to search more of the camp faster than a single larger one would otherwise be able to, with the added goal of possibly finding Senzin as a bonus. To that end, Constantine and Kilgore had opted to join me on the eastern end to search for them, while Cassius and Berwyn did the same except from the west. With some luck, we would be able to find at least one of them before the slaves kicked off the riot we’d planned, giving us a chance to escape in the chaos.

Which unless I’m mistaken, should be due to start any time now, I thought as I mentally checked the time and saw that we were entering the window that we’d given the slaves to start their escape attempt. And that means we need to get moving.

<Okay, I don’t see anyone nearby,> I told Amaranth as my thoughts came to an end, and I shifted to risk a quick glance down the row of nearby tents finding it thankfully clear. <Let’s move forward and see if we can’t cross that laneway on our left to the other side. There doesn’t look to be any smoke rising from over there, so hopefully there’s no one there.>

<Would it be that the air wasn’t filled with such noise,> Amaranth complained as we moved, first forward a row, then across the path I’d indicated. <Perhaps we would be more certain we are alone. Wishful hunters tend to be hungry hunters.>

<Or more likely in our case, dead hunters,> I said to the cat as I led us directly between two rows of tents, each of them facing the opposite direction with barely a foot of clearance separating them. <But unfortunately, that’s out of our control. At least the noise makes it harder for the orcs to hear us.>

<That it does,> Amaranth commented with a mental sigh as we cut between the row of tents and gradually made our way deeper into the slave camp, finding it even more disorganized and chaotic in person than we did from afar.

Probably to make it more confusing for the slaves in case they tried to escape, I noted at one point as Amaranth and I zigzagged our way deeper into the camp, the straight rows and pathways that we’d seen earlier, having been replaced by disorganized clusters of stuff—which, in itself, ranged from tents and crates to partially built huts with scraps of wood and leather just left lying in a pile. In one case, we even came across an exceptionally large slave wagon that had just been left blocking a previously cleared laneway with a pair of drunk orcs sleeping under it. Or if not that, then because the orcs are damned lazy and just didn’t care what they were doing here.

Yet despite all of my annoyance at the disorganized camp, I had to acknowledge just how much the mess was helping us remain unseen. Had the place been even remotely organized, our task would have been insanely more difficult than it already was as Amaranth and I continued to push both inwards and north through the camp, searching for any sign of the prison we’d been told about. As we did, we noticed that the orcs had effectively segregated the place into two separate sections, one for themselves, and the other for the slaves. The orc section, at least from what I could tell while we were cutting through it, was shaped like a large ring that surrounded a central area where the slaves were kept, effectively penning them in where they could be better contained.

Dividing the two areas, was another ring of wooden spikes facing inward to the camp’s heart with a deep, night soil filled trench dug out in front of it. Should the slaves at any point have wanted to break out from their prison, they would have been forced to wade through the foul-smelling excrement before even reaching the second barrier and attempting to climb through it. From what I could see as Amaranth and I scanned over the inner ring, access to the place was controlled through a single entrance on the northern side of the ring. The design meant that anyone leaving the slave ring would have to travel through most of the orc-controlled section of the camp before reaching the only exit the place had.

The orcs are clearly practiced at doing this, I thought darkly, a surge of emotion causing me to turn away from the inner slave ring and force myself to keep moving before I became too distracted, continuing to push northward. So far all that Amaranth and I had seen in the camp were a handful of low to mid-level orcs, the majority of them signaling various levels of inebriation and making them easy to avoid. As we moved, I eventually spotted the beginnings of a wooden building that stood taller than the various tents and hovels we’d seen so far, marking it as a point of interest worth checking out. Taking a few minutes to navigate a route closer towards it, Amaranth and I made liberal use of Blink Step to avoid the few orcs we found in our way, the spell allowing us to move from hiding spot to hiding spot unseen. Eventually, we reached the building that I’d spotted which sat in an open square separate from the nearby tents. As it came into view so did a group of six orcs standing in a cluster a few yards away from it, all of them cheering loudly while another two viciously beat on one another with bare fists.

Some party that they’re having, I thought dryly as Amaranth and I briefly watched the violent exchange between the two combatants from behind a trio of stacked crates, both of their faces completely covered in blood with neither of them willing to back down. But as interesting as the impromptu brawl was, I found my attention drawn to the large rectangular building that had originally attracted my attention. It was easily bigger than anything else that we’d seen in the camp so far, and I noticed that it was completely segregated from any other adjacent buildings.

<Well, this looks interesting,> I mentally whispered to Amaranth as I inspected the building ahead of us, estimating it as being roughly twenty-five feet long by twenty feet wide and made completely out of wood, save for a large cut of leather that hung blocking the entrance. <This is the largest building we’ve seen so far, and I’ll be damned if those orcs over there aren’t intended to be guards. They look tougher than the others we’ve seen so far, and they aren’t drunk either.>

<And yet they still pay little attention to their surroundings. They would make poor hunters,> Amaranth commented, turning as he peered around our cover. <Do you believe that this is where they may have stored our quarry?>

<I’m not sure,> I replied, keeping my attention on the building as I spoke. <But we haven’t seen anything else in the camp this promising so far, and we’re starting to run out of time.>

<Then perhaps we—> Amaranth started to reply, only to cut himself short as the leather that served as the building’s door suddenly parted, revealing a familiar face that I hadn’t seen in weeks.

<Hang on, that’s Ignis!> I exclaimed excitedly as I saw the Dread Crew adventurer partially turn in the doorway before shouting something back into the building. Then without even waiting for a reply, he continued walking, slapping away the leather hanging in the doorway with enough force that it flailed through the air before catching itself on something sharp and hanging askew.

<So it is,> Amaranth agreed as we watched the man storm off at a brisk pace, not even sparing a glance in the direction of the brawling orcs, let alone towards where we were hiding before vanishing from sight. <Then perhaps we have found what we’ve been searching for after all.>

<That’s what I’m starting to think too,> I said to the cat as I tried to peer into the partially open doorway that led into the building ahead, but I wasn’t able to make out anything substantial from our current angle. Staring at it for a few seconds anxiously, I realized that we weren’t about to find any answers standing here and turned to look down at Amaranth. <Are you ready to do something reckless?>

<Is that even a question you must ask me?> my familiar replied in an amused tone, glancing up at me with bright azure eyes.

<Of course not. My mistake,> I said, offering Amaranth a smile at his eagerness before returning my attention back upwards.

Roughly twenty-five feet of open ground separated the distance between our hiding spot and the building’s entrance, with no better angle of approach available to us. From what I could see, any attempt that we made in stepping out from behind our cover and approaching the building would expose us to the nearby brawling orcs, which I was all but certain would have issues with our appearance.

Fortunately for us, however, Amaranth and I were well-practiced by now in jumping around using Blink Step.

<Ready?> I found myself asking Amaranth as I pulled Splinter free of its sheath, readying the spell in a corner of my mind.

<Ready,> the cat affirmed without hesitation, his body coiling itself in preparation for action.

<In that case, here we go!> I exclaimed as I shifted ever so slightly away from the crates that we were hiding behind to give me a clear line of sight to the building’s doorway straight ahead.

Then without another thought, I triggered Blink Step and watched the world dissolve into a spray of colors.

Chapter 43

An instant later, everything snapped back into focus, except now Amaranth and I found ourselves standing just inside of the building’s entrance, the incessant drumming that had been echoing through the air now mercifully muted. Blinking rapidly to adjust my eyes to the sudden change in lighting, I scanned my surroundings, finding myself crouching directly in front of a large wooden cage that filled the entire center of the room. Eyes widening at the sight, it only took me another heartbeat to recognize that the massive cell was far from empty with several large fur-covered shapes visible within.

We found them! I exclaimed mentally as the hot stench of urine mixed together with blood and offal slammed into me, its already-potent smell only magnified through my link with Amaranth. Forcing myself to choke back a gag, I focused my attention on the prison and the prisoners within, recognizing them all as the gronn that we’d been looking for. Numbering at least a dozen from what I could see from my position, I noticed that all of them were facing away from me, their arms stretched high above their heads. A glance upwards showed me that the orcs had tied thick ropes around their arms and wrists before looping them through the upper bars of their cage and pulling them tight. The result made it so they would all be forced to stand on their toes to relieve the pressure the position brought on as well as preventing them from having any hope of falling asleep.

<We are not alone in here,> Amaranth warned with a mental growl, his ears flat against the back of his head as he stalked closer to the cage, moving his head to peer through it. <There are two orcs on the far side of this room.>

<Are there?> I asked redundantly before my eyes caught a glimpse of movement through the bars of the cage, which quickly resolved into two pairs of legs walking towards one another on either side of the cage. <Shit, never mind, I see them now. We’ll have to take them out—and quietly if possible. We don’t want to alert the other orcs outside.>

<Then we should attack immediately and with speed,> Amaranth replied eagerly, creeping along the side of the cage. <For they will be circling around this way soon enough.>

Grunting a mental acknowledgment at my familiar, we split up, with Amaranth circling one way around the cage, while I circled around the other. Based on the quick glance that I’d been able to get of the two orcs, it seemed like they were each patrolling on a clockwise or counterclockwise path respectively around the cage.

Which at the moment meant that their backs would be turned to us, leaving us with a golden opportunity to close with them undetected.

But also putting them close enough together to support one another if we screw up, I added silently to myself as I reached into my belt pouch and fished out a vial containing a bright red liquid.

Given how much hinged on the next few seconds, I knew that we needed every advantage that we could get in taking down the two orcs relatively silently. So, I didn’t even think twice about popping the stopper with my thumb as I moved around the cage, throwing back the [Battle Potion of Strength] in one smooth motion. A stride later, I activated Alacrity, the word ‘overkill’ briefly crossing my mind as the world slowed down, and the armor around my chest and arms began to tighten with a burning surge of strength.

Moving quickly as I rounded the corner around the cage, I finally saw my target come into a view, the orc almost at the corner where he would cross paths with his partner. Realizing that I had seconds before my opportunity was gone, I put on one final burst of speed, the distance between us rapidly vanishing. But unfortunately, that extra speed came with a price, the orc sensing something behind him and beginning to turn around towards me.

Only to promptly freeze in shock as Amaranth chose that very moment to pounce on his target’s back, knocking the orc’s partner completely off their feet and sending them crashing to the ground face first, thereby giving me the extra second I needed to thrust Splinter directly into the orc’s back.

Piercing straight through the thick leather tunic that the orc was wearing as if it were paper, I thrust my blade right into the spot where I figured orcs carried their kidneys. As it slid through flesh, I was rewarded with a shuddering gasp, followed by the orc going completely still with shock. Not willing to give the orc a chance to recover from my attack, I twisted Splinter viciously as I pulled it free from his body, eliciting another groan just as my free hand grabbed a hold of his collar. Yanking back sharply with my enhanced strength, I pulled the stunned orc off-balance while simultaneously delivering a snap kick to the back of its knee, breaking it with a crunch and sending him crashing heavily to the ground—where a powerful follow-up stroke from Splinter a second later ensured he would stay forever.

<Mine’s down!> I called out to Amaranth as I saw the orc’s head roll free from his shoulders, turning my body in the direction of the cat, only to see him standing over his orc, its neck twisted at an impossible angle.

<As with mine,> Amaranth replied coolly, his tongue flashing from the side of his mouth as he licked a line of blood clean from across his chin. <I do not believe our hunt was overheard…however, the prisoners do look quite surprised to see us.>

<I can imagine,> I said to the cat as I turned to look back into the cage and saw several sets of eyes staring back at me with shocked expressions. It was also then that I noticed that all of the prisoners had been gagged, each and every single one of them bearing a thick leather strap going through their mouths.

Probably didn’t want any of them talking to one another overnight, I thought as I briefly took my attention off the prisoners within and towards the cage itself, spotting a heavy lock hanging from a door built into it. Turning my attention back towards the caged gronn, I spoke as loudly as I dared, while trying to meet the eyes of each of them.

“My name is Lyrian Rastler,” I said, hoping to reassure them to my presence and any other additional unease that my ætherwarped appearance may have caused. “And this is my familiar, Amaranth. I know a lot of this is going to sound really confusing, and I don’t have time to explain it all, but Aryana sent us to free you all. She wanted me to tell you all that it’s time to go home.”

I paused for a second to allow my words to sink in for the group, hoping that they would all understand the code phrase that the resistance leader had given me and react accordingly. “So give me a second to find the key to this cage, then I’m going to come in there and start cutting you all free. Do you understand?”

There were several excited nods from amongst the prisoners in response, followed with a handful of muffled words that I couldn’t.

“Great!” I replied, bending down to search the two orcs that Amaranth and I had killed.

Starting with the orc closest to me, I quickly fished through his pockets and tunic before patting him down, finding a pair of tarnished iron daggers, an iron shortsword, and a purse containing three badly tarnished Eberian silver coins, along with a single gold coin. Pocketing the coins without another thought, I set the weapons aside before doing the same with the other orc. Seconds later, I uncovered another pair of daggers along with a one-handed axe, followed by a thick leather cord from around the orc’s neck, which held a shiny metal key looped through the middle of it.

Breathing a sigh of relief as I palmed the key, I rushed towards the cage and began the process of freeing the prisoners. Working carefully, I cut a black-furred gronn loose from his bonds before pressing a dagger into his hand and repeating the process with another prisoner, hopefully garnering a bit of trust in the process. Then after I’d handed out all the daggers that I’d taken from the orcs, I simply took a step backward, allowing the group to free themselves, all of us regrouping outside of the cage. During that time, I had a chance to fully look over each of them and saw just how the orcs had treated them.

Which was to say, not very well.

Every single one of them was covered in a mixture of dirt and blood, some even with fresh wounds still visible on their body. Any clothes that they might have been wearing during their capture had been stripped away from them, leaving them with little more than rags, some barely enough to protect their modesty.

This wasn’t just a case of having them cool their heels for a night in prison, I thought as I looked at the various gronn, noticing how tenderly or slowly some of them moved. Or how their imprisonment under the orcs’ hands had affected them, many of them appearing malnourished, leaving what was once a strong and powerful frame so rail-thin to the point where their fur hung loosely away from their bodies. This was a brutal interrogation, if not outright torture. The orcs and the Dread Crew wanted to know something.

But as stark as their appearance and evident poor treatment was, I only allowed myself a second to take it in before refocusing on the task that I’d come here for, my eyes searching the group of gronn for a pair of familiar faces.

“I also have a key for you all to unlock your collars once you’re all free,” I said as I searched, reaching out into a pocket to pull out an engraved iron rod that Aryana had given me before we’d began our mission and offering it to one of the gronn. “But right now I’m looking to talk to Garr or Arcturus if they’re here. I have a message from Aryana for them.”

Waiting as the group continued to cut themselves free, I was fortunately able to distract myself for a second as the heavy collar belonging to the gronn I handed the rod to hit the ground in front of me. Made of smooth grey iron, the only adornment that the shackle had upon it was a diamond cut crystal of some sort on its face, which was where I’d seen the man press the rod to before it had opened. Feeling a little anxious staring at it and what it could do to me, I decided to take the opportunity to call up its description, curious to know just what its effects were.

Siphon Collar

Slot: Neck

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Masterwork (+20%)

Special: When equipped, this item prevents all spellcasting unless authorized by a Control Rod. Furthermore, while equipped this collar drains 50 mana per second and prevents all natural mana regeneration.

Note to self, never let anyone put one of those things on you, I thought as I reached down to carefully pick the item up and promptly dropped it into my bag, not wanting to leave what was obviously a potentially useful magic item even if it made me uncomfortable. Fortunately, it was by then that a pair of gronn had managed to push their way forward from within the cage, their fur gold and grey respectively. Walking tenderly as they got used to standing under their own power again, they quickly made their way over towards me, the golden one speaking first.

“I am Garr,” he said in a tired and raspy voice, one of his hands held gently around his throat where his collar had just been. “And this is Arcturus. Did I hear right that Aryana sent you? How? How did she even find…wait, you aren’t with them, are you? Are you here to turn against your kind?”

“She did,” I replied, watching both of their hazel eyes dance warily between Amaranth and me as I spoke, immediately sensing the subtle hostility hidden beneath Garr’s words. “And no. I know exactly the people that you’re talking about, and I assure you that we aren’t with them. In fact, we’ve been fighting our own war with them these last few weeks ever since they attacked our town, Aldford.”

“Wait, you are of Aldford?” the gronn repeated with a slight flare of recognition in his eyes at the town’s name, his earlier suspicion fading. “I’ve heard many of the slaves mention the place in my time here, Aryana as well. It was to be their new home before they were taken here.”

“And hopefully it will be again once we can get everyone out of there,” I said, hoping that my words would earn me enough trust to get everyone moving. I had no idea of how long we had before the slaves began their riot, and the last thing I wanted to do was burn time that we didn’t have. “Look, like I said, I know that this is a lot to take in at once, and I’ll be happy to answer questions you have once we’re safe, but we’re working on borrowed time here. Aryana wanted me to tell you both that it’s time that you all escaped, so unless you’d really prefer to stay here, we—”

Without warning, a thunderous explosion from outside suddenly cut me off before I could finish speaking, causing all of us to flinch and stagger as a heavy tremor passed through the ground. Lasting for an instant, the noise swept over us as abruptly as it had appeared, leaving us standing and staring at one another in sudden shock.

“—need to get moving,” I finished belatedly as the thundering drums outside began to rapidly taper off, only to be replaced by shouting voices outside.

This was followed immediately by the sound of a second explosion, this one even larger and closer than the first.

“I’m not certain about you, Garr, but I feel inclined to listen to this stranger right now!” Arcturus shouted as a second shockwave rocked the building, sending a thick spray of dust falling from the ceiling above. “If nothing else, it would grant us a chance to fight and die on our feet and not be buried like caged rats!”

“Yes, I think you are right!” Garr replied with alarm as the second blast nearly took him off his feet, the man barely catching himself on the bars of the cage. Steadying himself, he wasted no time in pushing himself back to his feet, his eyes fixating intently on me, the suspicion I’d seen earlier having completely vanished. “What is your plan for our escape? Unless I am mistaken, this here is the slave riot that Aryana planned for us, is it not?”

“It is!” I replied, breathing a mental sigh of relief at the slaves’ timing for their escape. “Our plan is to use it as cover to get you all out of the camp and into the gardens so that you can finish blighting them before the orcs come looking for us. My friends are also in the camp here looking to try and free Senzin as well. Hopefully, we’ll be able to hook up with them on the way out.”

“Wait, what? Senzin was taken too?” Garr demanded, his eyes widening at the news.

“He was, but we’re confident we can find him before we need to leave,” I said motioning curtly with a hand, knowing that whatever time we had was rapidly running out. “Now we really need to get moving. Are you and your people able to fight?”

“Until our dying breaths and beyond if necessary,” Arcturus affirmed without a moment’s hesitation, all of the other ex-slaves sharing grunts of agreement as they overheard the conversation.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I replied as the shouting outside rapidly began to grow louder, no doubt originating from the orcs that Amaranth and I had evaded earlier. “All right! Time to go! Grab the weapons there and meet me by the door! Oh, and bring the siphon collars, too! They might be useful for prisoners!”

Trusting that they would do as I said, I rushed towards the prison’s entrance with Amaranth by my side, the two of us making it a little more than halfway there before a large orc stepped through the doorway, his gaze landing right on me.

“What?” he gasped in surprise, eyes widening in shock as he saw the gronn had been freed from their cage behind me. “You not—Intruder! Help! Intrud—ah!”

The orc’s panicked shouting suddenly ended in a cry of pain as I conjured and threw a burning dagger towards him, the fiery blade sinking deep into his upraised forearm instead of the throat I’d aimed for. Regardless, however, the attack served its purpose in distracting the orc, leaving his guard temporarily open.

Slashing out with Splinter as I entered into melee range with the orc, I cut a deep line across his unarmored stomach, blood instantly spilling forth from the wound. Flinching backward instinctively, the orc just barely managed to avoid being disemboweled by the attack, shouting out loudly in pain. Yet despite his panicked efforts, it wasn’t enough to keep Amaranth from lunging forward beside me, the large ætherwarped puma sinking his teeth into the creature’s upraised forearm and biting down hard enough to crack bone. With a vicious twist of his powerful neck and shoulders, Amaranth then effortlessly yanked on the orc’s arm, viciously dislocating it while also pulling the orc off balance.

And directly into Splinter’s path.

Using both my familiar’s help and the orc’s weight to my advantage, I guided the tip of my sword directly under its ribcage, angling it sharply upwards in the process. Sliding through flesh effortlessly, the blade quickly found the orc’s heart, whereupon a prompt twist ended its efforts permanently.

<I hear more movement from outside!> Amaranth exclaimed to me as we released the orc, and I pulled my blade free. <More will be arriving shortly!>

<Then we better meet them out there! We can’t afford to get bogged down fighting inside!> I added as I rushed towards the doorway and stepped outside, spotting the seven remaining orcs we’d seen earlier rushing to the prison with weapons in hand. <Shit, they’re all coming now!>

Yet no sooner did that thought finish crossing my mind did I feel a large shadow appear at my back behind me and then rush past, only to be followed by another and another. Before I knew what was happening, nearly all the gronn had charged past me, their attention focused solely on the orcs. Slamming into their ranks without even a care to the fact that they weren’t wearing armor, or in most cases, even armed with weapons, the newly freed prisoners attacked with an unbridled frenzy, tearing through the orcs with a savagery that I’d never seen before.

“You do not know what this war with the orcs has cost my people,” Garr whispered to me as he saw my look, having hung back from the short yet vicious skirmish. “Hate is not strong enough a word to describe our feelings towards them.”

“I can see that,” I replied slowly, watching a thick spike of stone erupt from behind an orc as one of the gronn finished casting the spell, the earthen lance piercing straight through his chest with enough force to lift him off his feet. The rest of the battle was little different as the earthspeakers among the group used their magic to deadly effect, butchering the entire group faster than I could witness.

“We’re clear for the moment,” Arcturus said once the brief and vicious battle was over, his attention alternating between Garr and me as he spoke. “However, it will not last. I hear more fighting steadily growing closer.”

“Then let’s get moving before it finds us,” I told the pair, using the opportunity to check party sense to see where the others in our group were. As I did, I sensed that both Constantine and Cassius’s respective groups were making a straight line for camp’s entrance, with the rest of the group already being there, no doubt fighting. “Our next step is to use this chaos to get to the camp’s entrance. My friends should be making sure that’s clear by the time we get there.”

“And is that all?” Arcturus questioned with a sharp shake of his head. “Quitting this camp will buy us nothing but a delayed death once the orcs realize that their earthspeakers have escaped.”

“Which is why we’re going to make sure that they don’t think you all did,” I replied, conjuring a small flame in my hand. “Because on our way out, we’re also going to set every single thing we can on fire, starting with this prison here.”

With that, I then threw the flare at the building’s thatched roof, all three of us watching it sail through the air and splash across the dry surface, which promptly caught fire.

“Hm,” Arcturus grunted his expression shifting into a vicious tooth-filled grin as the flames rapidly began to spread. “I like how you think, stranger. Perhaps we may yet taste freedom again after all.”

“That’s the plan,” I replied confidently as we all began to move once more, the ex-slave taking to my suggestion to torch the orc camp with vengeful glee, and before long, there was a pillar of hot, choking ash rising into the sky behind us.

“That should be enough fire!” I heard myself calling out sometime later as we’d continued our arsonous path westward through the camp, thick and heavy flames practically trailing on our heels. By my estimation, there was little chance that the orcs would be able to stop the blaze that we’d started at this point, which meant that it was time for us to focus solely on escaping.

Lest we end up getting caught up in an inferno of our own making.

Or worse and end up running straight into a group of orcs big enough to pin us down, I thought as we rushed through the burning camp at a near sprint, the fire nearly keeping pace with us. So far, we’d faced next to no opposition since leaving the prison, at least save for a few scattered orcs that had been too few or too low-leveled to do anything more than gape at us in surprise before being completely overwhelmed. Yet despite that, I knew that logically our luck could only stretch so far, and it was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

Of course, it was barely a second after that thought finished crossing my mind that Amaranth’s voice filtered through my mind.

<I hear battle ahead!> he warned, the cat having moved ahead of us to scout our path and ensure we didn’t accidentally rush headlong into a group of orcs. <It does—>

A loud thunderclap of magic followed by a bright flash of light to the west interrupted Amaranth, all of us reflexively flinching and slowing as our heads twisted in its direction. No sooner did I shift my head did a second blast echo out, followed by a small arc of fire slashing through the sky.

“Shit!” I cursed, hearing similar sentiments of surprise from the ursine around me at the magical display. Pausing for a moment, I mentally checked party sense, feeling the group shifting around in reaction to the spells we’d seen. “Looks like we have trouble ahead! Chances are we’re going to have to fight our way out!”

“Good!” Arcturus shouted excitedly from my left. “The orcs deserve every ounce of suffering that we can inflict upon them and more!”

Letting out a roar of agreement with their leader’s statement, all the other gronn put on a burst of speed as we continued to run, making our way directly towards the sounds of combat ahead. With it blurring past us, we tore through the remainder of the slave camp until we rounded a final corner and found ourselves charging straight into a large square.

And entering the sprawling battle raging within it.

Filled with a hailstorm of magic and flying missiles, the camp’s entrance was a veritable warzone, its ground already torn up beyond recognition and the few defensive barriers that the orcs had built smashed into kindling and set ablaze. Standing at the heart of the destruction was our entire party, all three of our separate groups having managed to reunite with one another. They were also joined with Aryana and a handful of the other resistance members, their ranks arrayed against a disorganized horde of poorly armed and armored orcs who were attempting to push them out of the camp.

“There they are!” I shouted to the gronn as we charged onto the battlefield, entering the square from its right flank. “Let’s go before we’re swarmed!”

Shit, we made it here just in time! I thought as I angled our approach towards the group’s right flank, spotting a cluster of orcs readying themselves for a push. I don’t know if these orcs are just trying to run from the fire or if they’re trying to defend the camp, but damn if there isn’t a lot of them here!

Charging as fast as our legs could take us, we managed to make it nearly the entire way towards the massing orc flank before they realized that we were coming, their ranks rapidly turning around in order to meet us. Leading with a roar as our two lines met, I found myself forced to defend against a pair of sweeping weapons from an overeager orc wielding a sword and axe. Raising Splinter up high, I deflected the axe harmlessly out of my way, while catching the sword on my forearm as I closed, the thick vambrace I wore effortlessly turning it away. Then, with the entirety of my momentum still behind me, I promptly slammed into the orc’s chest, throwing my shoulder forward at the last second.

Feeling the orc’s foul breath blow across my face as we connected, I knocked him back half a step and stabbed low with Splinter, feeling the blade pierce deep into his unarmored stomach. Stiffening in shock from the blow, the creature roared in pain before desperately attempting to pull himself off my sword, something that I was all but happy to oblige. Aiding the orc’s effort with a shove, I forced him away from me, making sure to saw the blade viciously as I pulled it free, causing a spray of dark blood to erupt from the gaping wound now in his stomach.

Falling back with a howl, I didn’t have a chance to finish him off before another orc suddenly replaced him, a heavy cleaver forcing me to hop backward as it swept through the spot I’d just been standing. But before I could react further to my newest assailant, a thick root burst free from the ground beneath his feet and surged upwards to wrap itself around its legs and hips, Garr’s voice calling to me as they did so.

“The roots will only hinder him!” he said to me as the orc moved to free himself, using his weapon to chop at his offending bonds. “Finish him quickly before he frees himself!”

Not needing to be told twice, I attacked the orc without a second thought, Garr’s spell trapping his weapon before he could finish his swing. But as I did so, I recalled again the mantra that I’d spent the last day replaying over and over again in my mind, feeling it suddenly crystalize in my mind this time as I repeated it.

Focus wholly on your opponent’s defense, their movements, their patterns, their very way of thinking, I mentally recited as I watched the orc struggle against the roots that Garr had summoned, their twisting grasp distracting him just enough so I could see my opportunity. Where you will seek a single flaw, a brief sliver in time where they are laid bare and most vulnerable. Then, when that instant is presented, strike entirely without fear or reservation in your mind, guiding the fullness of your weapon towards the battle’s end.

Launching Splinter towards the opening the second that I spotted it, I swept the blade forward in an arc before me, stepping into the attack and adding my full weight behind it. Slicing through the air in the blink of eye, the sword lanced out towards the orc, catching him directly under the chin at the same instant as he shifted his head in response to my attack. The next thing I knew, the orc was falling backwards into the roots that had imprisoned him, a river of blood pouring free from his throat. Eyes widening at the mortal wound, my attention was then stolen by an excited fanfare that suddenly played in my ears, followed by a golden line of text appearing in my vision for a split second before vanishing.

You have learned a new ability – [Perfect Strike]!

I…did it? I thought at first in confusion as I saw the text appear, my surprise shifting over into exuberance as the realization fully hit me. I did it! I learned Perfect Strike! The same one that I saw from the feed!

Letting a small whoop of joy at the accomplishment, I promptly kicked the dying orc away from me, Garr’s roots already in the process of releasing it as it fell. But that short cheer was about all the time that I had to enjoy my ability at the moment, as yet another snarling orc appeared before me, uncaring of the fact that I’d managed to dispatch two of its companions in quick succession. But this time, Amaranth managed to catch the charging creature before it could even reach me, the cat slapping it mid-stride in the knee with his massive paw, instantly breaking it and sending the orc howling to the ground where a follow-up pounce and vicious bite ensured it would stay. Recovering from his attack, the two of us pressed forward with Garr and Arcturus beside us as we drove deeper into the orc flank, all sense of time vanishing as we relentlessly slashed, stabbed, and clawed our way forward.

Finding themselves partially pinned between two attacking forces, the overtaxed and under-leveled orcs quickly devolved into panic and pulled back, allowing us to force our way through their ranks and join with the bulk of the group.

“Lyrian! You made it!” Constantine called out as we came into range, our arrival giving the group a moment to breathe. “And you found the gronn! We were starting to get worried!”

“Sorry! We had a few surprises along the way!” I replied as I ground to a stop, taking a second to glance around the group. “Wait, where is Senzin? You guys couldn’t find him?”

“Not before everything went to hell!” Cassius answered back from farther up the line. “I don’t know what these slaves did to cause those explosions, but one went off practically on top of us while we were searching. It was all Berwyn and I could do to get out before we were trapped!”

“Shit! We’re going to need to go back in to find him then!” I cursed, my attention shifting over towards Garr and Arcturus, only to see that they’d both shifted to reunite with Aryana, the woman speaking rapidly to the both of them. But before I could move to say anything else, I was interrupted by Kilgore’s shouting voice from the far end of our line.

“We have more incoming from the west!” he announced loudly. “A large group of arakissi with orcs right behind—uh, what? Check that! We have a large group of arakissi being chased by orcs!”

“They’re being what?” I demanded as I scrambled to rush down our line towards the scout, Amaranth following closely behind on my heels, it only taking us a handful of seconds to cross the distance.

Once we did, however, it took me a second to see what Kilgore had meant as a group of seven robed arakissi sprinted forward from deeper in the camp, a hail of arrows and magic peppering the ground around them. Staring at the sight in confusion for a moment, I didn’t know what to make of the scene, freezing for a second in surprise.

I don’t think those are slaves that they’re attacking, I thought as the group continued to rush forward into the square, catching brief glimpses of armor from beneath the dark robes that they all wore. As they ran, I saw one of them twist with a wand in hand and send back a blast of emerald magic towards the orcs chasing them, while another cast a spell that caused a shimmering shield to appear above them. Slaves wouldn’t be armed like that. But if they aren’t slaves, then—wait, are those more of those Sthera’s people then?

Unfortunately, I had little time to process that thought as it was Aryana’s turn to suddenly shout from amongst our group, her words dragging me back into the moment.

“Look, that’s Senzin right there! He escaped on his own!” she exclaimed, relief evident in her voice as she spoke, the woman wasting no time to call out to the group. “Senzin! Over here! Come this way! We will cover you!”

Reacting instantly to the sound of her voice, I saw a red-scaled arakissi turn his head in our direction, his eyes visibly widening as he spotted us amid the scrambling horde of orcs caught halfway between retreating and attacking us. No sooner did he did so, however, did he shout something to his group, which promptly shifted in our direction without any hesitation as they began to carve through the disorganized wall of orcs separating our two groups. As they did, so did our line surge forward to meet them, once again sandwiching the orc line from two directions. This time, the orcs were in no shape to put up a solid effort against our combined push, their ranks melting away as they finally broke from under the combined onslaught and turned to flee. That movement allowed a clear line for the running group of arakissi to finally close with us, pure relief appearing on their faces as soon as they saw us.

Relief that quickly morphed into shock, a spark of recognition appearing in their eyes.

Wait, those aren’t Heralds either! They’re…they’re… I said numbly the moment that I was finally able to get a clear view of the onrushing group, both surprise and a loud shout from one of them causing my thoughts to trail off.

“Holy shit! That’s Lyrian Rastler!”

Chapter 44

They’re adventurers! I exclaimed at the same instant that I heard one of them call out my name, the group of sprinting arakissi rushing through a gap in our line, leaving me confused about just how exactly they knew who I was. But despite that, I found that I didn’t have time to dwell on that particular thought as the orc horde chasing the fleeing group arrived, forcing us all back a step as they crashed into us.

For the third time in what felt like just seconds, the world then fell into the mad chaos of battle as I found myself suddenly pressed by three orcs at once. Quickly dodging a chopping axe, I had just enough time to slash out at the offending limb holding the weapon with Splinter, drawing a jagged line across its flesh. But as I swept my blade out, I was forced to twist my body sideways to evade a spear thrust aimed at my stomach, the sharp tip grazing briefly across my armor before deflecting itself away. Sidestepping away from a follow-up thrust from the spear while simultaneously parrying a slash from the third orc, I worked to retaliate in kind from the barrage of attacks summoning up a surge of magic into my free hand.

Taking only a second to finish my casting, I thrust my hand out towards my opponents, bathing all three of them in a wave of fire. Recoiling in agony from my Flameburst spell, the group’s momentum promptly vanished, and they couldn’t help but stagger back, reflexively shielding their faces in the process. That short opportunity was all that I needed to stab the spear-wielding orc in the chest with Splinter’s tip, the blade piercing directly into its heart where it sparked briefly with a surge of electricity. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the orc promptly collapsed to the ground, falling away from sight as its two companions recovered from my distraction and threw themselves towards me, hot rage written across their expressions.

A hot rage that completely blinded them to the fact that there were others anchoring the line on either side of me.

Reacting first as the two orcs moved to attack was Amaranth, the armored cat darting in close from beside me to land a sweeping paw swipe on the leading one’s hip, the impact alone causing a loud crack of breaking bone to echo out. But that was only the beginning of the orc’s troubles as my familiar’s claws extended themselves and pierced deep into its flesh, giving the cat the grip he needed to then yank his newfound victim towards him and off his feet. The second orc, shocked and surprised by Amaranth’s sudden appearance and subsequent dispatch of his partner, allowed his attention to hover on the cat an instant too long, completely missing the large shape that stepped forward on the other side of me.

And the heavy bone axe that it swung through the air.

Connecting with the side of its head, the orc never had a chance to see the axe coming before it hit with a sickening crunch, the impact nearly splitting the hapless creature’s skull in two. With its deadly work done, it only took an instant for the axe to then vanish in the direction it had come from, a heavy foot planting itself directly on the dying orc’s chest and sending it sprawling backward.

“Hey!” a rumbling voice called out from beside me as the three dispatched orcs were replaced by another set following directly behind on their heels. “Did I hear that right? Are you really Lyrian Rastler from Virtus?”

“Uh, y-yeah,” I replied back to the voice a little nervously, a quick glance in its direction revealing that it had come from a large, green-scaled lizardman that had fallen in along beside me. “W-why do you ask?”

“Oh, man! Really?” the arakissi exclaimed in an excited voice, his axe chopping out as he spoke to take a vicious bite out of an attacking orc’s shoulder. “Because I’ve seen your feed pop up a couple times! You guys are awesome! That fight against the Beast and the shoggoth the other week…just dang! So good!”

“Oh,” I replied as I blocked a thrust from an attacking orc and quickly riposted in kind, feeling a little stunned by the rapid flow of words that flowed out of the saurian warrior’s mouth. His reaction at seeing us, or rather me for that matter, was just about the last thing that I’d expected to experience and took a few seconds for my mind to catch up. “Well, uh, thanks! We tried our best, and I guess it all worked out!”

“No kidding!” the lizardman exclaimed excitedly as we continued to battle the orcs, their eagerness in pressing forward rapidly waning as a pair of large magical blasts erupted from amid their ranks. “I still can’t believe it though! Here I am fighting right beside Lyrian Rastler and Virtus! I definitely didn’t expect this when I woke up today!”

“You and me both,” I replied dryly, still unsure of what to make of the adventurer’s enthusiasm. “We didn’t even know that there were other adventurers in the area here!”

“Neither did—” the arakissi started to say in an offhanded tone before it abruptly changed, becoming suddenly urgent. “Shit hang on a second! There were adventurers chasing us along with the orcs! Where did they go?”

“There were?” I replied to the man, feeling my earlier bewilderment at his starstruck behavior shift into something that I was more familiar in dealing with. “How many did you see?”

“At least four,” he answered as he cut down yet another orc with barely any effort, the low-leveled creature never having had a chance against the lizardman. “But I think they may have lost some when one of those explosions went off right on top of them as we were running.”

“Good, we can manage four or less!” I replied as I dispatched my own orc with a sweeping flourish of Splinter that left it clutching at its suddenly bleeding throat, a follow-up stab sending it to the ground for good. “Let’s push forward and find them!”

Not waiting to see if the lizardman would follow me, I took that opportunity to do exactly as I said and rushed forward into the now hesitating horde of orcs ahead of us. No longer appearing to be the eager and bloodthirsty group that had recklessly charged us, the orcs had finally started to come round to the fact that they may have inadvertently tried to grab a tiger by the tail. Instead, they now started to back away from our line with fear, hesitant to throw themselves into the grinder that had chewed through their leading ranks. Which was why when they saw me and the others rush forward to charge them, they all recoiled in surprise, their feet continuing to backpedal as they edged the fine line between rallying or breaking.

Hoping to push them over that line, I hit the crumbling orc ranks at an Alacrity-fueled run with all the aggression that I could bring, slashing and stabbing at anything or anyone that had the misfortune to be in my way. It was this, combined with the painfully low leveled orcs that found themselves unlucky enough to be in my path, which allowed me to hear a nearby shouting voice as I carved deep into their disorganized line.

“No! No! Where are all of you idiots going?” it called out in a rage from amid the screaming voices and cacophony of battle. “Go forward! Not backward! They’re over there!”

Hang on, is that who I think it is? I thought as I heard the voice call out, immediately trying to figure out where exactly it was coming from. Thankfully, the voice continued to shout as I pressed deeper into the orcs’ ranks, both Amaranth and the nameless arakissi warrior that joined us following on either side of me. Cutting a path through the now panicking horde, I eventually managed to catch a brief glimpse of three adventurers standing in a pocket to themselves at the rear of the battle, watching it unravel before them. Of the three, however, I found my eye drawn to the one that had been shouting, the familiar face matching the voice that I still heard screaming in an attempt to rally the orcs.

It is him! I mentally exclaimed as I saw Ignis’s beet-red face appear in the distance, the man looking quite a bit worse for wear since I’d seen him a short while earlier. He must have gone to the other side of camp while we were rescuing Garr and the others. But at least now if he’s here, we can say hello before it’s time to go.

“No! Stop dying, you cowards!” I heard Ignis shout as I shifted to fight my way towards him and his companions, silently noting their defensive posture around the man with their weapons at the ready.

And what are the odds I wonder of that half-elf and dwarf standing next to him being offline right now and just following their task lists? It’s sure late enough that they could be off sleeping, I wondered as I fought my way towards the group, the last few orcs separating us proving to be little challenge. That left us arriving directly in the middle of Ignis’s latest shout, his attention snapping towards us the instant that the last orc fell.

“We need to catch them before they—” he started to say, a look of dread appearing the second that he saw me. “No! What are you doing here? You can’t be here right now! You’re supposed to be back in Aldford!”

“It’s nice to see you too, Ignis!” I called out as I rushed directly towards him, only to have the two adventurers on either side of him leap forward to cut Amaranth and me off without so much as a word, their combined attacks blocking us from the man.

But not the arakissi warrior that had been following close beside me.

“Oh, man, I knew I thought I recognized you!” he exclaimed as he charged past my attackers to focus on Ignis himself, the smaller adventurer’s eyes instantly widening the second he saw the large lizardman bearing down on him. “Don’t worry, Lyrian! I’ll sort him out for you!”

Not hearing any reply from Ignis as he vanished behind the large arakissi warrior’s bulk, I was forced to turn my full attention on the two Dread Crew adventurers, quickly parrying a pair of attacks. As I did, I noticed how weak their strikes were compared to what I’d grown used to over the last couple weeks, easily turning away their weapons with little effort.

Looks like the orcs aren’t the only low leveled people here, I thought as I slapped the flat of the dwarf’s sword hard enough to knock it free from his grip, following the motion with a Shocking Touch-charged sword thrust directly into his shoulder. I don’t think these guys have leveled up at all since the Twilight Grove. They have to be at least five or six levels behind us, if not more.

Whatever the reason though for their lower levels, it wasn’t something that Amaranth or I were going to complain about, the both of us proceeding to easily dispatch the pair of Dread Crew adventurers in an efficient fashion. Once they were down, our eyes then landed on the familiar shape of Ignis and the starstruck lizardman, the latter standing over the former’s now bruised and bloodied body with a heavy foot planted on his chest.

“He’s still breathing, just down and out,” he said as we appeared beside him, driving his foot down into Ignis’s chest to force a wheeze out of his lungs. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted to do the honors of sending him for a trip yourselves, but I figured it’d be better to ask. In either case, though, he barely put up a fight for me, and all it took were a couple of good hits to put him on his back.”

“Did it now?” I replied to the man, a little surprised to see that he’d managed to take care of Ignis so efficiently. From the last battle that we’d fought one another in, I knew that at the very least he had to be a few levels higher than the pair I’d just fought, but that had also been weeks ago. “Then it looks like those other two weren’t the only ones slacking when it comes to leveling. What’s wrong, Ignis? Carver not letting you go out and play anymore?”

“Oh, fuck you, Lyrian!” the fallen man spat weakly in response to my question, his eyes partially glassed over and unfocused, no doubt the result of whatever his captor had done to subdue him. “This…is all…your fault!”

“Says the man who’s brutally lost two straight battles now,” I replied to the man in a dry tone as I took that opportunity to glance around at what was left of the greater battle around us and saw that it was rapidly coming to an end. The few of the still-standing orcs had completely broken under the weight of our counterattack and had turned to flee back into the now burning slave camp, with the handful that chose to stand their ground having only seconds to regret it—especially since I saw that a large group of armed and armored slaves had managed to join the battle at some point in the chaos, the once prisoners falling upon their former masters with unrestrained savagery.

“I mean, were you even trying to win here?” I went on to ask the man as I finished my inspection of the battlefield and focused back on the fallen adventurer. “Because I heard you shouting at those orcs, and I’m pretty sure that all of this is going to be really hard to explain to Carver once he finds out what happened.”

“And…I’ll tell him…that it’s his fault too!” Ignis growled back at me as he tried and failed to rise, the foot on his chest pressing harder to keep him down. “Leaving me with…scrubs. I never had a chance!”

“But you had a choice, a long time ago, when you threw in your lot with him. It’s only now that you’re paying the price for it,” I replied, taking my eyes off the man as I heard someone call my name from somewhere behind me, seeing Constantine waving at me near the camp’s entrance with the remainder of the new adventurers by his side and looking visibly overwhelmed by the experience. “But in any case, that’s not my problem. So what I’m going to do is let…”

“Ezzac,” the no longer nameless lizardman helpfully supplied as I gave him a side look.

“Is let Ezzac watch over you for a bit while I go and figure out how to make your day worse. So toodles for now,” I said, giving Ignis a mocking farewell wave before turning away and jogging over towards where the others were gathered.

And, of course, paying no attention to the cursing shouts that he sent after me as I left.

Instead, I focused my attention on character sheet, temporarily pulling my attention away from the activity around me to call up my ability list, eager to read more about Perfect Strike, my earlier excitement rekindling itself. Quickly finding it, I didn’t waste a second in bringing up the ability, seeing its details fill my vision.

Perfect Strike

Type: Martial Art, General Skill

Skill Requirement: Swords Skill – Level 25

Stamina Cost: 300

Description: You spot a flaw in your opponent’s defense, instantly lunging forward to strike with all of your strength and precision.

Effect: Your next attack against a target enemy deals +300% weapon damage with a greatly increased chance that it will also be a critical hit, dealing triple damage. Due to the toll that this ability takes on your body, it can only be used every three minutes.

Note: This ability has no effect on creatures who are immune to critical hits.

Hell, yeah! I exclaimed mentally as I finished reading over the ability, unable to help grin as I’d read it. Not only had I actually managed to learn an ability that I’d seen on another’s feed, proving that it was possible to do so, but that ability itself was a powerful one that I knew would be a welcome addition to my repertoire. And one that looks like it will continue to scale with me as I gain more levels and get better weapons down the road.

Buoyed by the achievement, I cleared my vision as I continued to walk across the battlefield, the game text replacing itself with a collection of new faces that I saw standing around Constantine as I made my way towards them. Scanning over them as I approached, I saw that he’d managed to attract the attention of the group of saurian adventurers that had unexpectedly arrived mid-battle, all of them save for Ezzac behind me clustering around the rogue. Having since lost the robes that I’d originally seen them with during the battle, I saw that the group was dressed in near-matching sets of bone and scaled leather armor, the few differences being only in its weight or thickness. But the similarities didn’t end there, also extending outward into the pale bone weapons that they all bore, which perfectly matched the bone of their armor in hue, the combined effect giving them all a very primal and savage appearance.

At least they seem to be friendly despite looking so vicious, I thought while mentally replaying Ezzac’s reaction after he realized who we were. Despite our success, or even fame, so far with our feed, I wasn’t at all used to experiencing the starstruck behavior that the lizardman had displayed, everyone in Aldford having simply treated us as a normal people more or less. But judging from at least one of the wide-eyed expressions that I saw among the arakissi adventurers as I drew closer to the group, Ezzac wasn’t the only one who was excited to see us.

“Lyr, hey!” Constantine exclaimed as Amaranth and I came into range, the rogue clearly looking relieved to see me. “So, uh, I see that you’ve already met one of them, but uh, you apparently have an eager fan dying to meet you.”

“He means me!” one of the arakissi adventurers exclaimed, pure excitement coloring the thin, black-scaled woman’s voice, which slowly began to get faster and faster the longer she spoke. “I’m just one of your biggest fans, and it’s so great to finally meet you and Constantine and Amaranth and everyone else! You’re all literally the last people that I expected to run into in this place! We were running and running with like a thousand orcs on our tail and boom! There you guys are waiting for us! But I guess, now that I think about it, it makes sense that you’d all be here. You must have seen the same—”

“Ashi!” a blue-scaled lizardwoman suddenly hissed, interrupting her companion before she could truly get carried away. “You’re doing it again! Be cool, girl!”

“Oh, crap. Am I?” the woman replied, becoming somewhat flustered at her friend’s words as she glanced between us. “I mean, I’m just so excited, and I didn’t even think that we’d ever even get a chance to meet them in person, and then suddenly there they are—”

“Girl, again!” the blue-scaled lizardwoman interrupted for a second time, prompting a chorus of snorts to erupt from amid the group of adventurers.

“How about we maybe start with introductions?” another one of them, this time a large green-scaled lizardman, suggested in an exasperated tone, his bright yellow eyes shifting over towards me as he stepped forward with a hand outstretched in greeting. “Hi, my name is Trivium, Triv for short. If Ashi didn’t make it obvious enough, we kinda recognized you all from your feed.”

“It was subtle, but I think I picked up on that,” I said with a slight smile as I shook the lizardman’s hand, feeling much better equipped to deal with his more normal reaction to meeting me. “In either case though, it’s good to see a friendly group of adventurers out here. We thought we were the only ones. At least other than the Dread Crew.”

“So did we,” Trivium replied as the group moved on his heels to also introduce themselves, which had me meeting Helios, Nathe, and Zie in sequence. “And on that note, thanks for the save back there. That was a hell of a lot more orcs than we wanted to deal with at once.”

“No problem,” I said once all of the introductions were finished, readying myself to ask the group how exactly they’d managed to end up in Khudazal, let alone the slave camp. But before I could open my mouth to pose the question, we were interrupted by the arrival of several people at once, the least of which included Aryana, Garr, and a somewhat older-looking, red-scaled arakissi.

“Lyrian! Good, you are still standing after that skirmish,” Aryana began without any preamble as she and the others joined our group, the woman wasting no time in pressing forward, motioning with her hand towards the lizardman beside her. “Allow me to introduce you to the final member of our resistance here, Senzin. And as I can see you’ve already met the allies that he somehow managed to find to organize his own escape.”

“More like they found me,” the lizardman commented in a tired voice as he inclined his head in my direction, the expression pausing as he noticed my ætherwarped nature, his eyes darting towards Amaranth beside me. But that distraction only lasted for a second until he smoothly recovered and continued to speak as if he’d noticed nothing. “Though that is a long story in its own right that we don't have time for. By what Aryana has told me, you have my word that they can all be trusted without reservation. More urgently, however, she has said that you were all intending to finish our work and blight the gardens after rescuing Garr and me.”

“We are,” I replied with a nod. “My town, Aldford, is at war with the orcs and the adventurers aiding them. Destroying the gardens would go a long way to giving us a fighting chance, especially with the reinforcements that they sent out earlier today.”

“The same would be for my people as well,” Senzin said, his gaze shifting over towards Trivium and the other arakissi adventurers. “While not all of Sthera’s minions require to eat, enough of them do that the gardens’ loss would force her to slow her advance, buying time for our clans to rest and regroup.”

“Time which we desperately need if we’re going to stay in this fight,” Zie affirmed, the blue-scaled lizardwoman sounding more than a little concerned. “We’ve done all we can to play for space to try and stretch things out, but we’ve hit our breaking point. If we don’t do something to stall them, they’re going to run us over.”

“Which gives us twice the reason to succeed,” Aryana stated, her attention shifting to look at me. “And that’s why I think we need to change our plan. I know that originally your group was to split up to escort Senzin to the eastern garden. But with these new adventurers now joining us, that doesn’t appear necessary. They can see Senzin themselves to blight the garden and then escape towards the fens immediately. There would be no need to regroup afterward and risk capture.”

“Which was the weakest part of our plan,” I replied, giving the woman a nod in response. Originally, our plan after splitting up and blighting the two gardens had been to regroup somewhere in the Hartwyld, trusting that our party sense would allow us to find one another. From there, we would try and find a way to get Senzin, and Garr if he wanted to join him, back to the fens before beginning the trek back to Aldford. If we were able to cut that particular series of steps out of our plan, it would give us a chance to get back home much sooner, and with hopefully less risk.

“But that would have Garr and his people coming with us as we trek back to Aldford,” I said as I turned to look at the gronn, his eyes moving to meet mine. “Which don’t get me wrong, you would be more than welcome to do so, but you would be placing yourself directly in the path of all the thousands of orcs that left earlier this morning.”

“A path that I assure you I have stood in many times before,” Garr replied without a single trace of concern evident in his voice. “And from where I stand, my people and I owe you a debt for rescuing us from our enslavement. It would stain our honor to abandon you when we could be of help. If you would have us, then we would join you and your town’s war with the orcs.”

“We absolutely would,” I said graciously, inclining my head to the man in thanks before turning back towards Aryana. “Alright, I think we can adjust our plans without worry. Unless anyone has any other objections?”

“None from me,” Trivium replied as everyone in our split circle shook their heads. “But at the same time, we’ve been flying by the seat of our pants since we got here. So if you guys all already have a plan put together, we’re good to follow it. Just tell us what we need to know.”

“Good. I can brief you all as we leave the camp,” Aryana said, her gaze shifting over to the arakissi briefly before turning to scan over us all. “Which will be in the next five minutes, or less if we can manage it. Right now, I have Theia and those others who are gifted with healing magic to do what they can to aid the slaves. It is my intention to leave as soon as they are done and not an instant later. Garr, Senzin, and the rest of you new adventurers, if you are able to aid to that end as well, then we will be able to leave all the sooner.”

“Of course,” the aforementioned gronn replied without a second’s hesitation, Senzin, Nathe, and Zie all nodding silently in response to the woman’s words as well.

“Good,” Aryana stated with a curt nod. “Then let us be about it. Every minute we waste here is a minute the orcs can use to catch us.”

With nothing left to be said and urgency fueling our actions, our group promptly broke apart, everyone heading towards their respective tasks. But with the current tasks being slated in favor with those of healing ability, that left several of us with nothing to do but wait.

Or at least it did until I remembered one loose end that I still had yet to find a solution to.

“Hey, how would you all like to help me with something before we go?” I asked Trivium and a handful of the others waiting around with me, my attention turning towards Ezzac who was still standing over Ignis’s prone form.

“Sure,” Trivium replied without a moment’s hesitation. “What do you need?”

“Just a couple extra pairs of hands,” I answered with a smile, motioning for the group to follow me as I turned towards where I’d left the pair. “After all, it’d be a shame to leave this place without leaving a calling card behind.”

Chapter 45

“You can’t do this to me!” Ignis shouted as I finished knotting a thick piece of leather around his wrists, having pulled them backward around the thick post separating him and me. “This is unfair! You can’t leave me like this! Please don’t leave me like this! Just kill me and send me back for a respawn!”

“Like I told you before, Ignis, you had your chance, and you made your choice,” I said as I took a step out from behind the post so I could look at the man, seeing the frantic look on his face as he desperately tried to pull free of his bonds. “And because we, unfortunately, don’t have any way of getting you back to Aldford so you can join your friends in prison, we have to come up with another way for you to pay for your betrayal.”

“This isn’t paying for anything! This is torture!” Ignis protested as he continued to try and free himself. “Do you have any idea what he is going to do to me when he hears about this?”

“To be honest? Not even the slightest clue,” I replied, offering the man a coarse smile that I knew didn’t reach my eyes. “But your reaction tells me everything I need to know.”

“Lyrian, please!” the captured adventurer begged, his head turning towards Constantine who stepped in beside the man with a thick strap of leather in his hand. “I’ve already been shoved to the side here and left out of the loop! If you do this then—”

“Then you’ll finally have to come to grips with how shitty a person you’ve been,” the rogue interrupted, taking that opportunity to finally gag Ignis, wrapping the strap of leather around his head so it wouldn’t fall out. “And then maybe you can start seriously considering somewhere else to play this game. Somewhere really, really, far away from here where we’ll never see one another again. How does that sound?”

“Like a dream to my ears,” I commented, ignoring a final desperate growl from the man as I bent down to pick up a slat of wood that I’d placed to the side to allow the writing on it to dry. “And now for the finishing touch to make this a true masterpiece.”

Placing the wood down in what I figured would be a good spot, I made sure that it wouldn’t fall before taking a step back and looking at our work with a critical eye. With our inability, nor real desire, to take Ignis with us when we were due to leave the camp, I wanted to make sure the adventurer had been properly taken care of before we all departed. The last thing that we wanted to worry about was to have him at loose ends and raising the alarm throughout Khudazal should we have just killed him and sent him for a respawn.

So instead of sticking him repeatedly with something sharp until he turned to dust, we made sure that he would stay out of trouble by tying him to a large pillory post that had managed to survive the battle. Removed just far enough away from the now burning camp so he wouldn’t accidentally be caught up in the blaze, the post was the perfect place for us to safely leave him. Not only would it keep him from spreading the alarm of our raid, but it would also serve a second, extremely critical, purpose that I absolutely didn’t want to pass up.

Which was to tweak Carver’s ear as hard as possible, and with luck, sow a few seeds of discord and distrust among the Dread Crew ranks.

“Hrm, ‘Never Trust Traitors’ and ‘See You Soon’” Trivium quoted as I backed away from the pillory post, the lizardman and several of the others having helped out in restraining Ignis when we’d tied him to it. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That we were here,” I said simply, offering the man a shrug as I turned to look at him. “Or rather that I was here specifically. He originally left me an identical message at one of his camps that they abandoned…well, I guess it was about eleven days ago now. The feed would have aired yesterday now that I think of it.”

“Must have been a hell of long eleven days if this is where you’ve ended up now,” the arakissi replied in a thoughtful tone.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I said with a sigh, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over me, which prompted me to reconsider my words. “Actually, maybe you do. It doesn’t sound like you guys have had it easy on your end of things dealing with Sthera either.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Trivium replied, giving me a toothy smile as he parroted my words back to me. “But hopefully if things go well tonight…”

“Things will get better,” I finished, giving the lizardman a nod as the dozens of burning questions that I had for him and his group’s experiences in the fens bounced around in my mind. From the little that we’d managed to talk about while sorting Ignis out, it was clear to me that we were both fighting the same war against the orcs and their arakissi allies despite the distance separating us. But where we had just recently been drawn into the conflict, I got the sense that Trivium and his group had been a part of it for much longer, which was what prompted a single question to rise up from among all the others.

“Do you know what the orcs want?” I suddenly asked as I turned my attention back towards Ignis, all of the earlier fight having since left the adventurer, leaving him hanging loosely against his bonds in defeat, his eyes staring unfocused at the ground. “Or even Sthera for that matter? Anything that would explain them waging this war so soon after they got kicked out of Eberia? Everything we’ve heard or discovered…just doesn’t make sense. At least not yet.”

“I wish I did,” Trivium replied with a sigh. “But we’re just about in the dark as you are. Hell, until today, we haven’t ever even fought against orcs. Not living ones at least. For some reason, they’ve left all the fighting to the clans Sthera’s managed to corrupt or the monsters at her beck and call.”

“Really?” I said, finding that particular bit of information rather curious. “That’s…interesting. I wonder why that is. What about Sthera?. What’s her angle in this? It doesn’t make sense that she’d ally with the orcs…even with this cult that she’s apparently a part of.”

“It sure doesn’t,” the arakissi replied apologetically with a shake of his head. “And I’m afraid I’m zero for two on questions. All that we know is that she’s looking for something or someplace, in the fens that is connected to both the orcs and the arakissi’s history, but exactly what we have no idea. Over the last couple months, she’s dug up more than a few ruins that once belonged to each.”

“Wait, there are orcish ruins in the swamp?” I asked, my earlier spark of curiosity fanning itself into a bright blaze. “You’re sure?”

“Sure as a bunch of undead orcs trying to kill you can make a person,” Trivium answered, sensing my excitement. “But the ones we found were old ruins, easily a thousand years, if not longer. And the swamp was far from kind to them. So there really wasn’t much in terms of lore or history left.”

“Damn,” I grunted, the questions in my head only multiplying based on what the lizardman had just told me. Unfortunately, though, they were questions that would have to wait for the future when we had a chance to connect offline, Aryana choosing that moment to call out and signal our departure.

“All right! That’s all the time we can spare!” she shouted loudly, her voice carrying easily across the camp’s entrance. “We’re leaving now, and if you’re looking to come with us, now’s the time to move!”

With nothing left to do to secure Ignis, and the man having either retreated so far inwards or choosing to log off so that he wouldn’t need to respond to any of us, we all turned as one to follow Aryana’s words. Crossing the battlefield quickly, it was less than a minute from there that we were gathered in our respective groups, saying one last farewell before we all went our separate ways.

“Should we succeed in our attempt to blight the garden and safely rejoin my people, I will attempt to reach out to one of you through your dreams and let you know how we’ve fared,” Senzin said as we readied ourselves to leave, the lizardman’s eyes darting between both Garr and myself as he spoke. “Should luck shine upon us tonight, then perhaps we will find an opportunity to coordinate our two fronts against Sthera and Zhul. Perhaps even find an end to this war that plagues us.”

“We need no luck while Fate’s hand guides us,” Garr replied with a slight shake of his head. “For I cannot imagine that it would be so cruel to see us this far only to have us fall short.”

“It is my hope that you are right in that,” Senzin stated before going to step forward and embrace the gronn in farewell, the pair patting each other on the back once before breaking apart. “Take care of yourself, Garr, I look forward to seeing you once again sometime soon in the days to come.”

“As do I,” the gronn replied in a heavy voice, his attention turning towards Aryana who took that opportunity to say her own farewells, also moving to embrace the man.

“We’ll see one another again before we know it,” she said while giving him a quick squeeze and glancing towards me and the others once they’d broken apart. “Well, this isn’t how I expected the last day to go. But at least we’re committed now, and all of our planning wasn’t for nothing. I hope everything goes well with your end of the plan. And as much as Garr doesn’t believe in it, good luck with all those orcs. I suspect that you’ll need it the most out of all of us.”

“Thank you,” I replied graciously, inclining my head towards the woman as I spoke. “If nothing else, we plan to give the orcs a hell of a fight that they certainly won’t forget.”

“And after what I’ve seen today, I certainly don’t doubt that you will,” Aryana replied with a smile, her expression freezing for a second before she continued. “If you don’t mind carrying a message for me to Fredric…in case something should happen. Tell him that I always thought well of him and that he is a good person.”

“We can absolutely do that,” I assured her, the tone of her words unable to help but make me curious to exactly what sort of relationship that she might have had with the bann in the past.

Which I suppose is really none of business, I said to myself as our various groups began to split up, each of us giving a hurried goodbye to Trivium and the other arakissi adventurers. It had been blind luck that our paths had managed to cross here of all places and only for such a short time, but I couldn’t help but feel grateful that it had. If nothing else, knowing that there were other adventurers in the fens also fighting against the orcs and their allies made me feel less alone in the war that we’d found ourselves in.

“All right, Lyr, we’re ready to go,” Constantine said to me once our groups had finished separating, Garr, Arcturus, and the earthspeakers we’d rescued all falling into place amongst us, looking vastly different than when I’d first seen them. Having begun with little more than the rags that we’d found them with, each of the gronn had since managed to scavenge enough gear from the fallen orcs to fully outfit themselves, ensuring that they were completely ready for whatever awaited us next.

“Then let’s get this show moving,” I replied eagerly, taking the opportunity to glance over towards Garr and Arcturus, who had accompanied the rogue. “All right, this part of the plan is up to whatever you need from us. Where do you need to be so that we can get a start on this ritual?”

“The center of the garden,” Garr replied without missing a beat. “We have already laid the groundwork for the ritual there and should be able to finish the remainder of our preparations without any trouble once we arrive. Should everything go well, we should be able to finish the ritual in a handful of minutes. Should there be complications or orcs in the garden, however…”

“Then that’ll be for us to worry about,” I said, expecting full well that something inconvenient would rear its ugly head once we actually began the ritual.

Because that’s just how things work when it comes to our luck and adventurers so far, I added silently as we all finally left the burning slave camp, our group turning towards the south, while Aryana and the escaping slaves departed along with Senzin and the others to the east. If everything went according to plan, Senzin and his group would be able to blight the eastern garden while Aryana escaped into the fens with her group, hopefully escaping the orcs and Sthera’s wrath in the process. Then, if everything went really well afterward, and we somehow won the war, we could see about repatriating Aldford’s lost settlers back to us once it was safer for them to travel to the town. And not need to dodge countless hungry creatures as we sprint through the length of the Hartwyld for a second time.

Leaving the camp at a Spirit-of-the-Wild-aided run, it didn’t take long for it to vanish out of sight behind us, the thick trees and foliage eventually blocking it from sight. From there, we rushed as fast as we could manage to the southeast, choosing to travel off the main path leading towards the garden in hopes that it would reduce the risk of us running into any orcs, while also leaving a false trail behind us. We didn’t know how long it would take the orcs to react to the burning slave camp, nor what they would do once they realized that there had been a mass escape, but anything that we could do to slow their eventual pursuit or even throw them off our trail could only end up helping us in the end. So it was with that intention that we ran deep into the forest as far as we could risk before abruptly turning west, approaching the southern garden from its eastern end, the tall trees eventually giving way to the familiar massive plants.

And, of course, the complication that I’d been expecting.

“Whoa, heads up!” Kilgore shouted as we ran, his greatbow thrumming loudly in the middle of his sentence. “We have corrupted spirits up high!”

Flinching at the scout’s words, I glanced upwards just in time to see the result of his bowshot in the form of an ethereal, ink-black hawk that was now rapidly falling through the air, its body dissolving into nothingness as it did so. But the dying spirit wasn’t the only one I saw, the sky above us suddenly full of over a dozen of them that were rapidly moving to react to our presence after entering the garden.

“Damn it! They should not be here! Not so soon!” Garr cursed as the corrupted spirits dove towards us, only to find themselves promptly shredded into nothingness as a hail of magic rose up from within our ranks. “If they are here then the orcs must know something worth risking the crops to their presence! We must hurry and begin the ritual as soon as possible!”

“Then lead the way, and we’ll keep them off you until we get there!” Cassius told the man as we rushed into the garden at a run. “And why would the spirits being here risk the crops, anyway?”

“Because the corruption they bear devours the energies of life,” Garr replied loudly as we moved, navigating the narrow laneways that separated the massively oversized crops. “The longer that they linger here, the more of the ambient mana in the air they will absorb, eventually draining all of it. Once that happens, the growth of the crops will stagnate and eventually wither.”

“Well, isn’t that a good thing?” Constantine called out. “We’re trying to destroy this place anyway. Why not let them do it for us?”

“It would take too long,” Garr replied with a shake of his head as he ran. “And also because as they drain the area of its mana, then so too will they drain the energy we’ve imbued into the blightspikes we’ve scattered across the garden. Should they drain all of them, they will kill the blight and can then be recalled before they cause too much more damage with their presence. Damage from which the garden would be able to recover from reasonably quickly once the balance restores itself.”

“And land us right up shit’s creek soon afterward when the orcs come calling on Aldford with full stomachs,” the rogue stated once Garr finished speaking, understanding dawning in his voice. “Okay, I get it now!”

“Good!” Halcyon shouted from somewhere in the middle of our group, the sound of whooshing flames accompanying his words as he sent out a blast of magic, “because we have more spirits coming in on our right!”

“And more on our left too!” Caius shouted out a heartbeat later, only to immediately correct himself. “Uh, actually check that! They’re coming from everywhere now!”

“And they will keep doing so now that they know we are here!” Garr shouted as a steady stream of corrupted spirits started to appear from the garden all around us. “But we must keep moving! There is a clearing at the center of the garden where we’ve prepared everything! It will be easier for us to fight them there! If we stop now, we will be swarmed!”

“Then we’re going to have to run faster!” I exclaimed as I swept Splinter through a corrupted fox spirit, the creature promptly bursting into a spray of living shadow. “Because we’re being swarmed right now! Let’s go, everyone! Don’t stop for anything!”

Reacting instantly to both Garr’s and my words, we all picked up our pace, our run through the garden turning into a desperate sprint as we stopped trying to fight the spirits and instead tried to outrun them. At first, the transition was a painful one, with many of the corrupted spirits already being too close to escape from unscathed. But once we managed to get our legs firmly under us and build up even greater speed, we slowly outstripped them, the straight and debris-free laneways that spaced the crops apart from one another giving us a clear path to follow. Aided by our new and rapid pace, it was only a handful of minutes afterward that we finally reached the heart of the garden, all of us bursting into the large clearing at a dead sprint. Consisting of a single ramshackle storage hut in its center, followed by a collection of wheelbarrows, carts, and other farming equipment, the clearing was mercifully empty of any waiting spirits or creatures.

“This is the place!” Garr shouted as the garden vanished from around us, each of us quickly grinding to a halt. “Quick! Gather together before the spirits come! They will be here any moment! We will burn them all with magic the instant they arrive!”

Not hesitating to obey the gronn’s orders, the next few seconds passed in a flurry as we rushed to form up into a tight group directly in front of the lone hut, kicking away several stray tools or vehicles in our path. Then, not even a pair of seconds after we were ready, did the spirits arrive, their disembodied horde rushing out of the garden like a tidal wave of darkness.

Only to run into a hailstorm of magic.

Lancing out from Garr and his fellow earthspeakers as well as Halcyon, Caius, and Theia, the corrupted spirits vanished under a blinding torrent of fire, ice, and electricity that forced me to temporarily shield my eyes, lest it blind me. Holding my arm over my face, the next few seconds passed in a thunderous roar of power as the combined chorus of spellcasters poured all the magic that they had at the pursuing spirits. Counting slowly as the magic reigned over me, it was only when I passed ten that I finally began to hear it fade, the cacophony gradually dying out. Once it did, it left the garden eerily silent of everything save for my still rapidly beating heart and panting breath, the lingering effects of our desperate sprint. Figuring that the worse was over, it was only then that I lowered the arm shielding my face, rapidly trying to blink away the afterimages that streaked my vision as I searched for any surviving spirits.

A search that didn’t take me long to realize was futile as my eyes landed on the massive swath of charred and burning garden ahead of us.

“W-well,” I heard a shaken and panting Constantine say as he broke the silence around us, “we made it to the center of the garden.

“What do we do next?”

Chapter 46

“…next we will need a space at least twenty feet in diameter for the circle, raked as smooth as possible,” Garr announced as we all moved through the clearing, each of us picking up tasks as the gronn called them out. “As well as eight blightspikes to form the anchor for the ritual.”

“I have three left over from earlier,” Theia called out in a hurry, the lizardwoman’s words being immediately followed by Halcyon.

“And Caius and I have two apiece,” he said, the three spellcasters making their way over towards the druid as they spoke.

“Good, then we will only need to carve one more!” I heard Garr state before calling to one of his earthspeakers and assigning them the job. “Next I will need something to write the ritual steps out on! Does anyone have any parchment and ink? A stick of charcoal would do as well!”

“I have some!” I replied the moment I heard the gronn’s request, giving the wheelbarrow I was currently pushing a good shove and sending it bouncing towards the edge of the clearing where it wouldn’t get in the way. Afterward, I quickly turned and jogged back over towards Garr, pulling the requested items out my inventory as I moved.

“Thank you, Lyrian,” the druid replied as he took the parchment and charcoal from me, only to pause as he glanced around for somewhere to write. Searching in vain for several seconds, his eyes eventually landed on the tool hut and then back to me. “Drat! I need somewhere flat so I can scribe the spell, can you hold this against the wall there?”

“Sure thing,” I answered, taking the parchment back from the man as I moved to spread the sheet out on the side of the small building, Garr wasting no time in beginning to draw upon it.

Working with surprising speed, I was then treated to a front-row seat of the gronn scribing out the ritual details, his motions quick and crisp. In less than two minutes, he was finished not having slowed down even once during the process, each and every stroke of the charcoal stick done with precision and confidence. It was then, once the final symbol was finished, that the ritual details finally snapped into focus for me, causing a floating description to appear in the center of my vision.

Ritual of the Withering Blight

Type: Ritual, Nature

Duration: Instant

Area of Effect: 2km by 2km circle, centered on the ritual’s origin point

Participants: 2 or more, one of whom must be a druid.

Spell Mastery:

Abjuration – Level 25

Alteration – Level 25

Conjuration – Level 25

Initial Mana Cost: 1,500

Total Ritual Mana Cost: 150,000

Special: The Total Mana required by this spell can be reduced by 500 for every Blightspike within its area of effect.

Effect: When cast, this ritual afflicts all living plants within its area of effect with the [Withering Blight] debuff. This noxious effect will cause any living vegetation affected by it to rapidly wither, killing all but the hardiest within minutes. Once dead, the afflicted plants will then sprout a creeping mold that will spread until the entire ritual area has been covered, which until removed by either physical labor or magic will prevent any new growth taking root.

“Whoa,” I said as I finished reading the details, my eye then shifting over towards Garr who had paused to inspect his work. “This…this ritual is really deadly.”

“As desperate weapons in war often are,” Garr replied, turning his head so he could look at me out of the corner of his eye. “Would it be any other time, or even any other foe, I would have never considered lending my mind to create something such as this. But with us having been pushed so far…and having few other options available to us…”

“I understand, Garr,” I said softly, only then noticing the turmoil that dwelled within the man, the gronn’s posture rigid and the hand he’d drawn the ritual details with now visibly trembling. “We’ll use it to do what we need to do here, and then we will destroy it afterward if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Perhaps it will,” the gronn replied with a deep sigh before going on to shake his head as if clearing an intrusive thought. “Or perhaps not having it at hand will twist and fill my stomach with fear even further.”

“Maybe,” I said, suddenly recalling something that I’d read ages ago. “But with a weapon like this, you never want to be comfortable in using it in the first place. Otherwise, it gets too easy to always rely on it.”

“Yes, I suppose that it would,” Garr stated, turning more so he could look at me with both eyes. “And you are very wise to think that way. However, such a topic is better discussed at a later time, assuming that Fate grants us a later time to do so. Right now, we must finish this ritual before our opportunity to do so passes for good.”

“Then what do you need us to do next?” I asked as we turned away from the hut, the gronn taking the ritual spell in hand.

“Nothing, I believe,” Garr answered as he scanned over the clearing, his attention fixating on the spot that was being prepared for the casting circle, which was currently being raked smooth by Arcturus, Constantine, and a pair of other gronn. “I believe that the rest now falls on me to prepare.”

Already moving by the time that he finished speaking, the gronn druid made his way over towards the group, their labor managing to finish just in time for his arrival. Pausing briefly to thank them as they moved out of the way, Garr then gazed over the smoothly raked patch of earth, his eyes dropping occasionally to the parchment he held in one hand. After nearly a minute of alternating between the two, the man stretched his free hand out towards the empty patch of dirt, a faint earthy glow beginning to emanate from his palm. Reacting instantly to whatever magic he was channeling, the ground rippled once in response before beginning to gradually move of its own accord, shifting and shaping itself into an intricate pattern.

He’s drawing the circle with his magic, I realized as I watched the earth move, the once smooth surface altering itself to accommodate the mystical shapes that would be needed for the ritual. Melding itself quickly, it didn’t take long for the circle to finish forming, Garr ending the process by closing his open hand into a tight fist, causing the earth to abruptly harden and pack itself.

“There, we are just about ready now,” he announced as he lowered his hand, the majority of us having gathered to watch the man while he’d drawn the circle, our outstanding tasks finished. “Now, where are those blightspikes?”

“We have them right here,” Theia replied as she moved over towards the man, she and a handful of the other gronn moving to insert them throughout the circle where they were needed, the process taking only a few more seconds.

“Very good. I believe that is the last of our preparations for the ritual,” Garr stated once the last spike was in the ground, his head turning towards us. “However, as soon as we begin, the spirits that are here in the garden will sense our magic and attempt to interfere. To their eyes, the ritual will be like a brightly lit feast that they will be unable to resist.”

“Then we will do our best to make sure to keep them off you all,” I said, getting an idea of what the impending encounter had in store for us, which unless I was mistaken was going to be a survival marathon. We would essentially be fighting non-stop until Garr and the others finished the ritual, enduring ever-increasing waves of corrupted spirits the longer that it took.

“Not us, or rather, not just us,” Garr corrected with a shake of his head. “It is the magic of the ritual itself that they will be attracted to, and the more that they manage to devour, the further that it will set our efforts back. And should they manage to completely drain the ritual after we’ve started, then we will be lost, for all of the blightspikes that we’ve planted throughout the garden will lose their potency, and the blight will die.”

“I see,” I replied, frowning at that particular complication even though it made it sense to my ear based on what we knew of the corrupted spirits. “We’ll make sure to do both. We can’t afford to fail after making it this far.”

“Certainly not,” the druid agreed, nodding once at me before continuing to speak. “Now, as for managing the ritual itself, it requires that at least two of us maintain the integrity of the spell while it gains strength and it is possible for any other participants to either join or leave its casting at any time. It is my thought that I and the other earthspeakers would manage to fuel the ritual regardless of what spirits descend on us, with those of you who are capable of lending your magic to the spell joining or leaving as the situation demands.”

“You mean dip in and dip out,” Caius said, the warlock nodding his head as he spoke. “Yeah, that could work. If the others have everything in hand, then we don’t need to be standing around and waiting. We can do our best and lend our mana to speed things along.”

“That you most certainly can,” Garr stated. “And make no mistake, speed will be a critical factor once we begin. For the longer that it takes us to fuel the ritual, the greater and more powerful the spirits that we will attract.”

“And the faster things can go off the rails if we can’t handle them,” Halcyon added in a grim tone, which prompted a nod from the gronn.

“Possibly,” he agreed, going on to motion towards the other gronn as he continued to speak. “Though if the situation becomes truly dire, a few of us can also drop from the ritual to aid you all and hopefully return to it afterward once the spirits have been thinned out.”

“Hopefully, we won’t need to do that, but it’s a good safety net to have,” I said, making a mental note to call on them for help should the situation get truly desperate. Though as I did, my mind also drifted towards how I myself could contribute to the ritual, a loose idea forming in my mind.

If I made it a focus to drain the spirits throughout the battle, I might be able to jump in and out of the ritual the same as the others, I thought silently as I considered what options I had available to me. I could drop as much as mana as I can spare into the spell, then run back into the fray and recharge myself. Or at least hopefully I’ll be able to since the spirits can drain mana too. I’ll be walking a razor’s edge to make sure I don’t get overwhelmed myself. I don’t know how much it would help in the end, but I’m sure it’ll be better than just standing with mana to spare while everyone else was busy contributing.

“Indeed,” Garr replied before turning to cast a quick look at all of us, his face tightening as he did so. “Now, if there aren’t any more questions, then I believe it’s time for us to begin.”

“I think we’re all set on our end,” I replied as everyone in our group simply shook their heads in response to the gronn’s question, the few murmurs and whispers that had filled the air quickly dying out.

“Very well,” he said, pausing to take a deep breath before focusing his attention on the circle. “Now if all those who are planning in participating in the ritual can step forward, we will show you all where to stand.”

With nothing else left to be said, we all moved to follow Garr’s instructions as he prepared the final steps for the ritual, positioning both his fellow earthspeakers and the spellcasters of our group in various parts of the circle. Having joined for the initial casting of the spell, I found myself placed on the outside ring of the casting area, a spot that would allow me to easily leap out and engage the corrupted spirits once they started to appear.

Then once we were all finally in place, we began.

Sparking into life in the form of a green orb of magic that floated lazily out from Garr’s hand, the ritual started slowly at first, the tiny wisp looking so small and fragile that a stray breeze could extinguish it.

But as the emerald mote began to spiral into the air, it rapidly gained both in strength and in size, mana flowing from each of us as we began to pour it into the ritual. As soon as we started to do so, I saw a small counter appear in the corner my vision, outlining just how much mana the ritual had begun with courtesy of the blightspikes already in the garden.

Total Ritual Mana Contributed: 40,500/150,000

Starting gradually at first and rising quickly, I saw the number rapidly increase as we all contributed our energy into the spell, the initial total rising by just over half before finally slowing down as everyone emptied their mana pool. Not wanting to fail to do the same, I pushed as far as dared, straining as the hunger within me grew with the more energy I poured into the spell. For several long seconds, I did my best to distract myself from the growing sensation, watching the orb intently as it climbed. But by the time that it reached its peak high above the ritual circle, the once tiny orb now glowing like a small star, I hit the limit of what I was able to manage.

Ugh, maybe that was a little too much at first, I thought with a loud grunt as I dropped out of the ritual, one of my hands going to clench my stomach, which had begun to twist and writhe painfully. The motion immediately brought a look of concern from the gronn closest to me that I promptly moved to wave away.

“I’m fine, just overdid it a little,” I told them by way of explanation as I stepped out of the circle while drawing Splinter, completely understanding their reactions. With how fast we’d moved since our initial rescue of the group, there hadn’t been any time to tell them of my mana starved condition, let alone how it affected the corruption.

An explanation that I’m sure I’m going to have to give once they see how the rest of this battle goes, I added mentally, my attention wandering slightly as I confirmed to myself just how much mana I had remaining. Expecting that we would face a collection of weaker spirits at first, I’d opted to contribute roughly three-quarters of my mana pool to the ritual, hoping that I’d be able to make up the loss quickly. Unfortunately, though, I hadn’t quite considered how my body would react after expending so much mana at once, leaving me off-balance until I was able to rein my hunger in. Come on, Marc, time to focus, there’ll be spirits coming in any—

“Heads up! Here they come!” Kilgore’s voice interrupted before I could finish my thought, the sound of his greatbow releasing an arrow reaching my ears a second later.

Twisting in the direction of his voice, it took me a second for my eyes to land on an array of birdlike spirits that were sailing towards us, the emerald light of the circle’s magic giving their jagged, shadowlike bodies an eerie look. But those were far from the only spirits that appeared hungering after the ritual’s magic, several others taking that opportunity to break free of garden’s crops and rush into the clearing.

“I’ve got these here!” I called out as I spotted a pair of corrupted python spirits that rushed out of the garden closest to both Amaranth and me, the two of us moving to cut them off before they could reach the ritual circle.

Launching himself forward with a powerful leap as we closed the distance, Amaranth was the first to enter the fray, the massive cat leaping at the leading snake with his claws outstretched. Following a few steps behind my familiar, I had just enough time to see him deliver a quick swipe to the spirit before darting away, narrowly evading a lunging bite that swept through the space he’d just been standing in. Badly out of position, the creature had no answer for my arrival a second afterward, Splinter chopping downward with all the force that could I muster from my short charge. Aimed and timed perfectly, there was nothing that it could do as the blade carved through its head, a surge of mana shooting up through my arm as it did so.

Exhaling a faint breath of relief as the cool energy flowed into me, I didn’t let up in my assault, following my opening strike with a second that swept straight through its throat. Had the spirit been a creature of flesh and blood, the exchange would have been over at that point with it lying on the ground bisected clean in two, but since it was an ethereal being, all that the two blows did was cause its form to waver and blur as the energy that fueled it bled out from the wounds that I’d inflicted, stunning it for an instant.

Which suited me fine, because I wasn’t looking to kill the spirit, but rather use it as a convenient mana battery to replenish what I’d contributed to the ritual.

To that end, my third attack wasn’t with Splinter, but rather my free hand as I thrust it into the swirling shadows that comprised the corrupted entity. Meeting a momentary push of resistance as I touched it, I used my strength to drive my hand deep into the spirit, the sensation lasting for just as long it took me to start draining mana. As soon as I did, the force resisting me simply melted away, allowing me to thrust the better part of my arm straight into the spirit. Writhing under my mana draining efforts, it only took a pair of seconds for the corrupted creature to go into a panic, desperately attempting to pull itself off me.

But to no avail.

Following the ethereal snake as it twisted and thrashed, I did my best to hang onto the creature for lack of a better description, my mana draining ability somehow allowing me to grab hold of the spirit as if it were a physical being—if at least for a short while. But after several seconds of desperate thrashing, it was able to break free, its form now looking weak and faint after I’d managed to drain a substantial amount of mana from it.

And also a healthy dose of corruption along with it.

Ugh, I forgot how sick this makes me feel, I thought as I gritted my teeth, feeling the hunger within surge up in reaction to the affliction I’d absorbed, sending a wave of nausea coursing through me. But at least it’ll give me a bit of a mana boost too.

Doing my best to push the brief wave of sickness aside, I finished off the now badly wounded spirit with a slash of Splinter before skipping around its disintegrating body and darting towards its partner, which had been busily dealing with Amaranth. Already wounded from its exchange with my familiar, the creature only managed to last a few more seconds after my arrival, allowing me a chance to top up my mana pool just a little bit further before it too faded away into nothingness.

“Not a bad start so far,” I told Amaranth after the two spirits were dead, my head pivoting to scan the clearing and seeing that everyone else seemed to have the situation in hand. Of the dozen or so spirits that had initially rushed into the clearing, only a pair remained standing, if at least for the time being. With Cassius, Berwyn, and Arcturus rushing towards them, I doubted that they would be for much longer.

Which means I have time to rush back into the circle and dump what mana I can spare again, I said silently, my feet already moving towards the ritual at a run, it only taking me a few seconds to cross the distance and re-enter the circle, the corruption that my hunger was still busily devouring doing little to slow me down.

And there goes round one, I thought as I began to pour my newly stolen mana into the ritual, earning a few curious glances from the nearby gronn in the process, they no doubt wondering how I’d managed to restore my mana so quickly. But no sooner did I finish contributing what mana was I able to spare did a voice call out again, this time belonging to Constantine as he announced another wave of attacking spirits, prompting me to turn and rush out again once more. With round two following right behind it.

From there, the battle then fell into a pattern for the next short while, each of us working as best we could to buy the time that Garr and the others needed to finish powering the ritual. Arriving at first in steady and somewhat predictable waves, the spirits came at us in en masse, consisting of anywhere from just a handful to over two dozen at a time. That particular tactic, while a little hectic at times when the larger waves appeared at all once, was one that gave us a brief chance to catch our breath afterward and regroup. It was during those short lulls that I rushed to contribute what mana I could to the ritual, the frequency that I was able to do so attracting more and more attention from the gronn in the process.

Attention that quickly morphed into outright shock when during a particularly intense wave I was forced to Blink Step across the clearing to grab a nimble monitor lizard spirit that had managed to sneak past all of us and was an arm’s length away from savaging Garr.

Catching the ethereal creature high on the chest with my free hand, I barely managed to keep its sweeping claws away from the druid who aided my efforts by flinching just out of range of its attack. It was that motion, however, that put him in the perfect position to see my hand sink into the spirit and witness the thick line of corruption course up my arm as I began to drain it. Hearing him gasp loudly as I dragged the now thrashing spirit away from him, I wasted no time in putting an end to it, slashing Splinter through it repeatedly until it unraveled itself in a spray of shadows. As it did, I heard Garr let out strained croak from behind me, a part of me already knowing what he was going say.

“How?” he demanded, the single word all that he was able to get out while maintaining the ritual’s magic, his eyes growing even wider as the corruption staining my hand and arm rapidly began to fade away.

“That’s…a long story,” I replied to the man as I spared a quick glance towards the clearing and saw that the others had finally managed to get the remaining spirits under control. The pause was just long enough for the remainder of the corruption to fade from me before I rejoined the ritual, extending my now unblemished hand towards the orb above. A hand that I noticed Garr flick his eyes towards, staring at it with wonder. “And I will tell you everything once we’re done here.”

“Yes,” Garr answered back with a serious expression on his face as he shifted his eyes back towards mine, managing to give me a curt nod in response to my words. “You…most certainly…will.”

Returning the gronn’s nod with one my own, I tore my gaze away from him and back onto the now brilliant orb above as I contributed half of my total mana pool to the spell, feeling my hunger rise up once more in response. As I did, I took the opportunity to glance at the ritual’s mana counter that hung in the corner of my vision, looking to see how much progress we’d made so far.

Total Ritual Mana Contributed: 100,253/150,000

Looking good. Just over two-thirds of the way there, I noted as I once more dropped out of the spell and turned to rush back out of the circle, surprised to see that another wave of corrupted spirits was already bearing down on us despite there still being some from the previous wave still standing.

“Damn it, it looks like they’re starting to come faster now!” I called out as I rushed towards the closest group of spirits, a part of my mind realizing that we must have hit some sort of threshold in the battle’s progress. “Hal! Caius! I think we’re going to need some extra help again for this wave!”

“We see it too, Lyr!” Caius’s voice called back barely a second after I finished speaking, his words accompanied closely behind by a bright flash of magic. “Just give us a second to finish chugging a couple potions and we’ll jump in!”

“Works for me! And call for help if you need me!” I shouted back to the warlock, managing to just get my reply out before I ran headlong into the group of spirits that I’d been sprinting towards. As a result, I was forced to miss any further reply that he might have had for me, my attention abruptly taken over by a set of two wolf and two spider spirits.

Charging into the group at speed, I lead with a blaze of fire, stretching my free hand out as I cast Flameburst, bathing the four sprits in a short-lived inferno. Taking advantage of the billowing cloud of ash that lingered after the spell faded, I followed the attack with a wide, sweeping cleave with Splinter, the jagged blade managing to catch three of the spirits in the process. The fourth, unfortunately for me, had the sense to not stay put with its other companions, instead choosing to leap forward through the ash.

“Ah! Shit, spider!” I shouted as the eight-legged spirit suddenly appeared in the center of my vision, a desperate dodge to the side allowing it to sail by just past me. But not without a pair of its ethereal legs hitting me square in the shoulder and phasing straight through me. Hissing loudly in response to the pain, nausea, and loss of mana as the attack landed, I did my best to adjust to the spirit’s new position on my flank, choosing to dart to the side and out of combat entirely before I found myself swarmed.

Which was fortunately at the same instant that Amaranth arrived to aid me.

Blinking into existence with a flash of magic, the cat suddenly appeared from elsewhere on the battlefield to slash a glowing set of claws into the spider that had attacked me. But no sooner did he finish the swipe did he follow it up with another, sending his own arc of burning flames to sear the group of spirits.

<Is there no end to these beings?> he announced to me without any preamble as he went on to viciously press his attack, sending another clawing swipe at the spider that had attacked me. <They keep coming to throw themselves onto our claws without any regard to those we’ve already slain! Rah, look! Even more of them are arriving!>

<I don’t think they’re smart enough to realize that!> I replied to the cat, a quick glance to my side allowing me to catch sight of yet another wave of black shadows rush into the clearing, making a beeline towards both Cassius and Kilgore. But that simple glimpse was all that I was able to manage before I was forced to turn my attention back towards the spirits I was already fighting, slashing Splinter at one of the wolves who tried to take advantage of my distraction. <Shit! Cassius and Kilgore are going to need a hand in a second! Help me finish these spirits off fast!>

Leading by example as I finished speaking, I channeled what remained of my mana into a second Flameburst spell, managing to once again sear the now wavering group of corrupted spirits. From there, Amaranth and I both rushed through the ash and into their ranks, his claws and my sword flashing repeatedly as we attacked without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sudden turn of the battle and Amaranth’s arrival, the ethereal animals had little answer for our assault, their ghostly figures bleeding energy with every blow we landed. As we attacked, I also didn’t forget what I needed most from the creatures, making sure that I drained what I could from them in order to restore my now dangerously low mana pool.

“There,” I grunted a short time later as the last spirit finally fell apart into a cloud of smokey shadows, what little that remained of its essence flowing directly into the hand that I’d thrust into it. “That’s the last one, now we can—”

“Shit! Hey, Lyr! We could really use that help you offered right now about!” Caius’s loud voice interrupted me as it boomed over the battlefield, its tone suddenly becoming urgent as a thunderous blast of magic split the air. “Guys, look out! More incoming on the right!”

Twisting before the warlock could finish speaking, I turned in time to see a blazing column of fire erupt on the far end of the clearing, its sheer intensity causing me to squint. Lasting for a second before beginning to fade, it was then that I saw what had prompted the dark elf to call out, the spell’s light illuminating yet another arriving wave of corrupted spirits that surged out of the garden.

Its path taking them directly into Kilgore and Cassius.

“Oh, damn it, I’m coming!” I cursed as I saw the two fighters vanish from under the combined weight of the spirits as they swarmed over the pair, the already chaotic battle losing what little organization that it still had. Realizing that we only had a short time before the spirits killed them, I didn’t waste another second in triggering Blink Step, sending a quick mental message to Amaranth as did so.

<Wait a few seconds, then follow me!> I told the cat as I fixed the endpoint of my teleport just above where I’d last seen the two Hallowguarde guildmembers, my world blurring for an instant before snapping back into focus. The move was promptly followed by me falling back towards the ground and into the swarm of spirits, everything around me turning abruptly dark. Then, no sooner did I realize that I was falling in the first place did I feel my feet hit the ground hard, the suddenness of the landing causing one of my legs to buckle and for me to collapse to one knee.

Which was fine by me since it made my next move all the easier.

Calling up the power of the Ring of Force that I’d found the previous day, I slammed my left hand into the dirt beneath me, knuckles first, the impact triggering its stored energy. Unleashing itself in a burst, I felt a wave of force pulse out from all around me, the magic sending all of the nearby spirits flying away, breaking the cloud of darkness that I’d fallen into. As it did, I was able to spot both Kilgore and Cassius a few feet away from me, the pair staggering as the wave of force washed over them too. But where the magic caused the smaller, and more insubstantial, spirits to be sent spiraling through the air, the two men were only momentarily knocked off-balance and recovered quickly.

“Shit, thanks for that, Lyrian!” Cassius shouted, a look of relief crossing his face as he saw me. “We thought we were goners!”

“We still might be!” I replied in an urgent tone as I forced myself back to my feet, doing my best to ignore the thick black streak of corruption that I saw now covered the better part of the man’s face. Instead, I turned my attention back into the clearing, seeing that the swarm of corrupted spirits that I’d dispersed was starting to reorganize itself. “We need to fall back closer to the circle before they hit us again! Come on!”

Not needing any more encouragement than my words already offered, the three of us began to run back towards the ritual circle, Amaranth joining us mid-stride with a flash of magic. But as we moved, so too did all the spirits around us, forcing us to slash and cut a path through them. Fortunately, we weren’t alone in that effort, with both Caius and Halcyon sending a storm of deadly magic into the spirits and scattering them before they could catch us.

“I don’t know about you guys, but this is starting to get a bit too hot to handle!” Halcyon called out as we finally regrouped with them just shy of the ritual circle’s edge, all of us promptly turning around to fight the spirits chasing us. “Constantine, Berwyn, Theia, and Arcturus are barely keeping up with things on the other side of the circle, and I just downed my last mana potion! I’m going to be down to party tricks in about ten seconds!”

“I have two left of mine that you can use!” I replied back to the mage as I swung Splinter in a wide, cleaving slash through a pair of spirits, following it up with yet another cast of Flameburst, the area of effect spell having become my favorite to use this battle. “How much is left till the ritual is powered?”

“Just shy of thirty thousand!” Caius answered. “Which at our current rate is somewhere between three and four minutes before it’s done!”

“I’m not sure that I have two minutes left in me, let alone three!” Cassius wheezed back in a weary voice. “I just hit stage two on the corruption counter, and it’s all I can do to stay standing right now. Is there anything we can do to speed things up?”

“Only if you guys can manage without any casters for those two minutes!” Halcyon countered back, a bright fireball sailing over our heads as he spoke, the bright orange orb detonating itself amid the spirits ahead of us and partially clearing them out. “Okay, Lyr! I need those potions! I’m tapped out!”

“I have them here!” I replied back to the mage, my hand already reaching into my belt pouch as I was speaking and drawing out the two mana vials that I had remaining. Once they were in hand, all I had to was twist slightly and hold them out behind me, Halcyon grabbing the potions a second later. “And I have to agree with Cassius, two minutes without you guys isn’t going to work! We need your magic to keep them away!”

“Then you’re going to have to either figure out how to get more mana to speed the ritual up or call on the other gronn to help us buy more time!” I heard him exclaim as I shifted back towards the battle, the spirits relentlessly surging forward once again. “Because unless you have another idea, I don’t know what else we can do!”

“Well, I do have one idea!” I called back to the mage as I slashed Splinter through a snake spirit before lunging forward to grab hold of it by the throat with my free hand. “But it really sucks!”

“Okay, but does it suck more than us being overrun and this ritual going to shit?” Halcyon asked, a bolt of lightning lancing through a group of spirits signaling his return to the battle. “Because right now that’s my bar for success.”

“Well, when you put it that way. I guess no. It does not,” I replied in a dry tone as I finished draining all the energy that the snake spirit had to offer for me, the ethereal creature dissolving in my grip.

“Then whatever it is, do it!” Halcyon exclaimed urgently. “Because I just burned through your first potion and this second one isn’t going to last much longer!”

“Okay, take my spot then!” I told the mage, glancing over my shoulder to see that he was only a few steps behind me. “Because I’m going in!”

“Sure—wait, going in?” He replied, surprise coloring his voice as I stepped out of my spot between Cassius and Amaranth. “Where exactly are you going into?”

“The ritual first, for one,” I answered, trusting that Halcyon would do as I asked as I leapt back into the circle and rejoined the ritual, contributing every single iota of mana that I could spare.

Which was to say my entire mana pool, save for a single point that kept me from going over the edge and into mana starvation.

“And…then…out there next,” I continued, my body trembling as I dropped out of the ritual once again.

“Wait, Lyr, you can’t be—” I heard Halcyon start to say as I forced myself into a run, his words losing all sense to my mind thanks to the now ravenous hunger that rose up inside me.

Oh, maybe on second thought, this wasn’t such a good idea, I said to myself belatedly as my sprint took me out of the ritual circle and into the spirit-infested clearing, a part of me barely recognizing Amaranth as I ran by him. But by that point, it was too late for me to change my mind as I found myself running headlong into a veritable wall of corrupted spirits that had moved to attack me. Ah, shit, I hope this ends up working out.

Steeling my nerve as best as I could against the fear and hunger running through me, I continued my sprint towards the charging ethereal creatures, paying close attention to the distance separating us. I had the slimmest of margins to work with for my desperate idea and couldn’t afford to screw my timing up—which was why I waited until the corrupted spirits were barely more than an arm’s length away from me before I reached for the hunger clawing at my mind and body.

And activated [Mana Torrent].

Leaping out of me as if it were a living thing, I felt my vision blur as my hunger leapt to obey my desperate command, reaching out to grab hold of each and every spirit before me. Writhing at the invisible touch, I saw the oncoming swarm abruptly panic as the ability tore a fragment of their essences away from them, sending it flowing straight into me. As it did, I felt a bone-chilling cold unlike anything I’d ever felt before slam into me, the suddenness of its arrival making me feel like I’d been dunked in a pool of ice. But for as shocking as that initial sensation was, it paled in comparison to the sickness that followed on its heels, any hopes that I might have had of being able to withstand what I’d known had been coming dying at that very instant.

“Ugh,” I grunted in agony as I felt the full weight of the corruption I’d absorbed slam into me, all of the muscles in my body abruptly growing weaker to the point where I found it hard to even stand. But that sudden frailty was far from the only thing that I felt hit me as a near-deafening chorus of nonsensical whispers erupted in my mind, forcing me to reach up and clutch my head. Reeling from under the two combined ailments, it was at that moment that a bright text flashed in the center of my vision, along with a warning chime echoing in my ears.

You have absorbed [Corruption]!

Your Corruption Counter has increased to 88%!

You have been afflicted with [Major Corruption]!

Due to [Major Corruption] all Attributes have been reduced by 30% and all skills have gained 3 negative levels.

Your [Hunger] devours [Corruption], restoring 100 points of mana!

Your Corruption Counter has decreased to 86%.

Crap, I think I overdid a little, I said to myself through the chaotic haze that now clouded my thoughts as I finished reading the array of notifications that had appeared. My plan had been to try and only absorb a moderate amount of corruption from the spirits, hoping that it didn’t affect me enough so that I would be able to make it back to the group. But in actually doing that, I’d miscalculated just how many spirits there were, catching even more of them in range of my ability than I’d anticipated, the result leaving me in the state I was in now.

Which while it really sucks, doesn’t mean I’m dead yet, I reminded myself, feeling a faint second wind flow through me as my vision cleared just enough so that I was able to finally focus on the swarm of spirits that had been charging towards me.

And saw that they were all in the process of running away from me as fast as their metaphysical limbs could take them.

W-what the? What happened to them? I thought numbly as I took in the surreal sight, watching all of the ethereal creatures that I’d caught within my ability’s effect twist and move to flee out of the clearing as if their lives depended on it. But whatever it was that I had done to terrify them, I quickly noticed didn’t extend outward to all the other spirits that hadn’t been affected, with many of them still rushing forward towards me. That sight was then enough to send a surge of adrenaline shooting through my body, which by extension weakened the corruption’s grip on me enough for my mind to snap back into focus. Shit! There’s no time for that! I need to get back to the ritual before it’s too late!

Already moving as the thought was forming in my mind, I twisted my weakened body back in the direction of the others, my focus going directly towards the circle behind them. Knowing that I only had seconds left before the other spirits arrived, I desperately worked to summon up the mental focus to cast Blink Step, the countless whispers echoing through my head making it hard to shape the spell. Hard enough that I failed twice in rapid succession before finally managing to cast it on my third attempt, my haze-filled world mercifully turning into a blur as the spell took hold of me and deposited me on my knees just inside the ritual circle.

“Lyr!” I heard Halcyon shout loudly the second that I arrived, one of my hands planting itself into the dirt to keep me from falling over. “What the hell did you just do?”

“You said…we needed more mana for the ritual,” I replied to the mage as I leaned heavily onto the arm supporting me while reaching upwards with a corruption-stained hand to the ritual above me. “So…I went and got more mana. A lot more.”

“What? I don’t understand—” the mage started to reply before his voice abruptly changed. “Wait, you mean the corruption!”

“That’s…right. Now…let’s just hope it’s enough,” I replied in a shaky voice as I rejoined the ritual for what I hoped would be the final time, pouring all the mana I had into the spell once more.

This time, however, I had more than just my mana pool to contribute to the spell, the hunger within me rapidly devouring all the corruption that I’d absorbed. The result allowed me to stay a part of the ritual for long after I’d emptied the initial mana I had, continuously adding what my hunger devoured while watching the spell counter continue to climb every few seconds.

Total Ritual Mana Contributed: 142,349/150,000

Total Ritual Mana Contributed: 143,992/150,000

Total Ritual Mana Contributed: 144,379/150,000

Is it going to be enough? I thought at one point, my corruption having finally faded enough for me to be able to stand and twist back towards Halcyon and the others, only to find both him and Caius standing a few feet away from me. Apparently, at some point that I had missed, they, along with Theia on the opposite end of the circle, had all opted to jump back into the ritual along with me in an attempt to give it the final dregs of power that it needed to activate. That left all of the others on their own to hold the tide of corrupted spirits back, each and every single one of them bearing large dark streaks of corruption across whatever exposed skin or fur that I could see.

And hold is what they did, even when it cost them their lives.

Falling first under the relentless onslaught was Cassius, the Eberian refusing to back down from under the ethereal creatures’ assault until he could stand no longer, his body fading into dust before it could even touch the ground. Following second, not far behind his guild leader, was Kilgore, the scout doing all he could to fill the gap his friend had left until his desperate call for help could be answered. Yet despite his best effort to stay standing, he lasted just long enough to see Berwyn arrive, the monk taking his spot as he too fell, dissipating away into nothing. His efforts were not in vain, however, as soon as Berwyn arrived, he thrust his hand out towards the oncoming swarm of spirits, creating a shield of pure force in front of him that temporarily kept them at bay.

Giving us the final few seconds that we needed to finish powering the ritual.

“It is ready!” I heard Garr shout the second after I saw the counter in my vision finally reach its goal, the entire clearing abruptly flaring with bright emerald light. “Brace yourselves! The ritual triggering may be a little—”

I never had a chance to hear what else Garr had to say because midway through his sentence I felt a heavy pulse of magic wash over me, the force of which was enough shove me back down onto my knees. That, while uncomfortable, wouldn’t have been too bad to endure had it been the only thing that hit me. Unfortunately, however, it turned out to be only the precursor to an actual wave of magic that erupted outward from the orb high above us, the force of which was enough to pick me up from my prone position and send me tumbling through the air.

Spinning in a wild panic as I flew, I had a single instant to wonder what had just happened, the fleeting thought all that I was able to muster before I suddenly slammed into something hard.

Which was promptly followed by the world around me going abruptly dark.

Chapter 47

“Ugh.” I grunted as I awoke to the feeling of numbness radiating throughout my body along with a heavy weight pushing down on both my head and my chest. A weight that at first I had no frame of reference for. But as my brain finished rebooting and sent a flood of memories rushing back into me, I started to slowly piece together the last thing I remembered.

The ritual finished…and then activated, I thought as I tried to move my hand to shove away whatever was covering my face, only to find it pinned by my side, the realization eliciting a wave of short-lived confusion. Then after that, it pulsed out with magic, enough so that…it threw me. I remember flying through the air and hitting something. But what could I have—

Realization dawned on me mid-thought as I tried to push whatever was on top of me to the side. But as it did, my thoughts were even further interrupted by a thick cloud of sawdust falling on me, removing what little doubt I might have had about what I’d crashed into.

The shed, I thought through a series of ragged coughs as tried to clear my eyes and lungs of the dust I’d inadvertently showered myself with, once more trying to push at the weight that had settled on top of me. Of all of the empty space in the clearing, I crashed into the only thing still standing in it. Hard enough for it to collapse on top of me from the looks of it, too.

Shoving hard with my full strength behind me, I finally managed to shift the weight off me, a quick rub of my sawdust-covered eyes revealing that it had indeed been a large fragment of the now-destroyed shed. It was at that point, as I freed myself to be able to sit up that I realized that I wasn’t in any pain and that my hunger was also strangely absent.

Shit, did I gain a level through all of that mess? I asked myself as my attention was drawn towards a flashing notification in the corner of my vision, which went onto rapidly expand itself as I called it up.

You have completed a War Objective!

You have been awarded Glory Points!

You have gained Leadership Experience!

You have gained Experience!

Congratulations! You have reached Level 28!

Huh, so I did, I replied with a mental grunt as I dismissed the display and turned my attention back towards extricating myself from the debris that was still piled around me. But does that mean that the battle’s over now, too?

“Hey, how is everyone doing out there?” I called as I continued to pull myself free, not able to see any of the others with the bones of the shed still hanging over me. “Did we win?”

“In a matter of speaking, yes,” Garr’s voice replied, his tone sounding on the verge of complete exhaustion as he spoke. “And it is a victory that I wish to never again see in my life.”

“What do you—” I started to ask in response to the gronn’s words as I finally pulled myself free of the debris and stumbled out of the remains of the shed. But as I did, I found my eyes going towards the garden that lined the clearing around us, understanding dawning on me a second later. “Oh, I see. Never mind.”

Appearing completely black and withered from under the magelight that illuminated the area, the once verdant garden that surrounded us was now a pale shadow of its former self. The blight had wasted no time in beginning its work since the ritual’s end, ravaging all of the plants and crops that I could see. In even the short time that it had to work with so far, I was already able to catch hints of a thick mildew-like odor mixed with rot wafting in on the breeze, signaling the contagion’s deadly work. Staring at it wordlessly for several seconds, the sight made my heart fall as I realized the scope of what we’d just done in destroying such a wondrous piece of nature. I tried to tell myself that it had been because of the war that we’d been forced to do it, to ensure that the orcs wouldn’t be able to use it to sustain their march on us, but no matter how many times I did so, the reasoning felt hollow and weak to me, as if we should have found a different solution to our problems.

If there even was one at all, I finished silently as I finally turned my attention away from the blighted garden and onto the others, who I now saw were in the process of picking themselves up, everyone having been violently tossed around with the ritual’s activation.

“Ow, what the hell was that all about?” I heard Constantine grumble loudly from across the clearing, several other grunts of exertion and pain echoing out in sympathy. “Was the ritual supposed to do that when it finished, or did we break it?”

“It succeeded without complications,” Garr answered back in a shaky voice, a quick glance in its direction showing me the gronn in the process of standing up as he spoke. “What we just experienced was…a known factor to the ritual’s design.”

“A known factor? What does that even mean?” the rogue growled back. “I have mud in my eyes, my mouth, down my armor, up my armor…or at least what I really hope is mud. Because if it isn’t, I think I’m going to have a big problem.”

“The ritual was put together as an instrument of brute force and in relatively great haste,” Garr replied in an apologetic tone as we all slowly continued to regroup. “And, unfortunately, because of that there were several factors that we could not account for or test when we designed it. So instead, Senzin and I chose to make it as resilient as possible, ensuring the ritual would work first and foremost, even if there was some…minor slippage in its activation.”

“You call that minor?” Constantine exclaimed once the gronn had finished speaking, using a hand to indicate all of the mud that covered the majority of his armor, with large streaks going as far up to include his face. “Nothing about that felt minor at all! It was like a giant reached down from the sky and threw me! One second I was standing, then the next thing I knew I was skipping across the ground like a rock over water.”

“It is minor in the sense that we are still alive,” Halcyon answered, coming to the rescue of the druid. “Had it been anything more, we could have found ourselves thrown to the other side of the garden, or if not that, then just simply crushed to a pulp where we stood.”

“I see,” Constantine replied in a suddenly more neutral tone as he glanced over towards both the mage and Caius beside him, who were covered similarly with mud and dirt as he was. “Well, if you put it that way, maybe that wasn’t so bad after all, then.”

“If it consoles you at all as well, it is because of that very slippage that the corrupted spirits were buffeted away after the ritual completed,” Garr added. “If it hadn’t, then I imagine none of us would be standing here now.”

“Definitely not,” Halcyon agreed as a series of nods went around our group. “But on that note, though, we should probably see if we can turn this standing that we’re doing right now into running as fast as our legs can take us. Because I highly doubt that the orcs missed the ritual activating, and I definitely don’t want to be caught here if all those spirits decide to come back looking for us.”

“I would second that thought,” Arcturus replied in a tired voice, the silver-furred gronn bearing large streaks of corruption across his fur. “I have seen enough of this place to last several lifetimes.”

“I think that we all have,” Garr stated, breathing out a deep sigh as he spoke, his gaze turning towards me. “And the sooner that we can be away from the place, the sooner that I can learn the answer to some rather interesting questions that I find myself burdened with.”

“Ones that I’ll be more than happy to answer first chance we get,” I assured the man, seeing that all of the other earthspeakers not only shared Garr’s inquisitive look but also stared at me with outright wonder as if I’d done something they’d never thought possible.

Which for all I know, I might have, I thought as my eye shifted towards the lines of corruption that now covered Constantine and all of the others who had come in contact with the spirits during the battle. Even Amaranth hadn’t managed to escape being afflicted by the dark stains, the cat bearing several dark streaks on his fur where his armor didn’t cover. Because from what I’ve been able to infer so far, they’ve been fighting the orcs a lot longer than we have been, which means they’ve also been dealing with corruption too. So I can only imagine how alluring a cure or immunity to it might look for them.

With nothing left to say, we all readied ourselves for departure, starting by healing what few injuries remained after the battle, followed by refreshing the compliment of buffs that we all bore. But this time, in addition to the spells that Theia was able to offer us, Garr happened to have one of his own to add, one that he promised would aid our journey through the Hartwyld greatly.

“It is perhaps one of the most valuable spells that an earthspeaker can call on,” Garr explained as he and a handful of his other companions began to cast a series of spells on themselves, one of whom caused a soothing sensation to fall over each of us. “And when a companion is in close proximity to them, it marks them as a friend of the wild, granting them a safer and eased passage through whatever natural domain they travel through.”

“Which will make our journey back to Aldford a world easier,” I replied, my heart already racing as I read the buff’s description as it appeared in my combat log.

You have been affected by Garr’s [Presence of Nature]!

While in range of this aura, all wild creatures under level 30 will no longer be automatically hostile to you, choosing to ignore you unless you threaten or attack them first. In addition, while under this ability’s effect, you are able to ignore all movement penalties while traveling over any non-magical natural terrain.

Forget us just getting back home, this ability could let us wander the Hartwyld with almost no fear at all, I thought, my mind immediately considering all of the possibilities. It could allow us to raid the Dread Crew and the orcs on the plains. Hell, even more than that, we could even use it to move a whole force behind them if we didn’t have to worry about all the creatures picking us off or alerting their scouts.

“And our escape from the orcs as well,” Garr added with a nod, his eyes lingering on mine a second longer than needed as if he knew what track my thoughts had taken. But instead of saying anything further, his attention shifted over to look at Berwyn, the monk choosing that opportunity to step forward with a large sack in hand.

“A moment before we leave, Lyrian,” the monk said without any preamble as he held the bag out to me. “It seems that the spirits have left something behind for us as a reward for our troubles. Though I am afraid we’re faced with a familiar problem once again.”

“They did? And we are?” I asked, at first not cluing in that the sack that Berwyn was holding was, in fact, a loot bag from the encounter that we’d just endured. But after staring at it for a second, my mind finally clicked into place, and I reached out to take the bag from the man. “Oh, right, loot.”

Glancing eagerly inside once it was in my hands, it only took me a second afterward to realize what Berwyn had meant as a set of five somewhat familiar items appeared in my vision.

[Lesser Essence of Celerity] x 84

[Lesser Essence of Serenity] x 61

[Lesser Essence of Brawn] x 76

[Lesser Essence of Fortitude] x 59

[Lesser Essence of Focus] x67

“Ah, I see what you mean,” I replied as I stared into the bag, going as far as to reach into it and pull one of the mysterious items out to inspect, its nebulous and spongey shape feeling strange in my hand. “More essences. A hell of a lot from them from the looks of it this time.”

“As there would be after the number of spirits that we were forced to slay,” Garr commented, his eyes moving to fixate on the Essence of Celerity that I held in my hand. “But at least it is a bounty that the orcs will not be able to enjoy for themselves.”

“A bounty?” I repeated, caught completely off guard by the gronn’s words. “Wait, do you know what these things are?”

“They are…essences,” Garr replied in an unsure voice as he looked back towards me, a look of wary confusion crossing his face. “Do you not know what they are?”

“Honestly? Not even a little bit,” I answered with a shake of my head. “We’ve been finding them for quite some time now, but we’ve never figured out what they are for.”

“You mean…your people don’t make use of them?” Garr replied, the confusion on his face growing into disbelief.

“Make use of them for what exactly?” I asked, starting to feel a little bit excited for where I felt the conversation was heading.

“For everything,” the druid answered with a shake of his head as if he couldn’t find the right words to explain himself. “There is nary a thing that an essence couldn’t be used for. From making, to mending, to…something like this garden. Their use is only limited by what ideal the essence represents.”

“An ideal?” I repeated, readying myself to press the man for more details but managing to catch myself before the flood of questions within could burst free. “Actually, you know what. Maybe this would be better to talk about once we’re farther away from there. It looks like we both have questions to ask one another.”

“So it does,” Garr agreed with an eager nod, his eyes flicking curiously between the essence and my face as he went on to repeat himself once more. “So it certainly does.”

With his words hanging on the air, we all finished what preparations were left before unceremoniously leaving the clearing, setting out southward into the blighted garden. Moving at a brisk pace, we only had to endure the consequences of our actions for a short while, the withered and rotting crops surrounding us eventually giving way to the healthy—and still living—trees of the Hartwyld. Feeling reenergized to be surrounded by life once again, it was just a matter of minutes from there until we reached the wards bordering the garden’s limits, stopping only briefly to destroy the nearest ward post powering it.

And just like that, our raid on Khudazal was over.

Running into the Hartwyld at what I would have considered reckless speeds once we entered into the forest proper, we began to put as much distance between us and the orc city as we could manage. All of us knew that it was only a matter of time before the orcs discovered the full extent of our raid, and none of us wanted to be anywhere nearby once they did so. So to that end, we ran as fast as our legs could take us, Garr and his fellow gronns’ spells allowing us to not only completely ignore the creatures of the Hartwyld but also physically ease our journey.

Even the ground feels softer beneath my feet, I thought at one point as I considered the effects of Garr’s aura and how it caused the entire forest around us to subtlety react to our presence. No longer did we have to find a path around a wall of intertwined branches or hack a trail through thick foliage while watching for twisting roots beneath our feet. Instead, the wild moved to accommodate our journey, with hard branches parting themselves in anticipation of our passage as we drew near, or vicious brambles refusing to bite us if we accidentally brushed by them, allowing us to pass unmolested.

The result of these two effects combined together turned what had before been a harrowing and perilous journey into a relaxing one in comparison, leaving us with little to worry about beyond the actual act of running. It was enough that after the first hour of our flight without any sign of pursuit that I allowed my attention to shift towards the various notifications that I’d pended after our battle with the spirits—if only to give my mind something to do.

Seems surreal to think I’d be a little bored running through the forest after a night like tonight, but I guess I’ll take it compared to the alternative, I thought idly to myself as I mentally called up one of the flashing notifications in the corner of my eye, watching it expand in my vision.

Battle Summary Update! War: The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew & Orc Tribes of Khudazal

Monday, April 22nd – The Raid on Khudazal

Outcome: Victorious

Allied Player Casualties: 2

Allied Non-Player Casualties: 21

Enemy Player Casualties: 2

Enemy Non-Player Casualties: 231

Captured Slaves Freed: 183

War Objectives Completed:

Find Khudazal

Find Aldford’s Lost Settlers

Rescue Garr

Rescue Senzin

Rescue as Many Slaves as Possible

Blight the Southern Garden

Blight the Eastern Garden

Rewards:

Glory Points: 833

Experience: 75,500

Leadership Experience: 20,000

Well, I guess that explains how I hit level twenty-eight, I thought as I reviewed the battle summary, my eye backtracking to fixate on one war objective in particular. Oh! It looks like Trivium and the others did manage to end up blighting their garden too! That’s great news! I guess we ended up getting credit for it because we helped them escape from the slave camp? Whatever the case, that helps us out greatly. We might even stand a chance against the orcs now.

After finishing my review of the battle summary, my attention shifted towards my newly gained level, and I opened my character sheet. As I did, a pair of highlighted sections alerted me that in addition to my unspent attributes, I also currently had a little over a thousand glory points and four leadership skill points to assign somewhere. Eyes widening eagerly at the plethora of points to spend on improving myself, I didn’t waste a second longer in doing exactly that. Starting first with the simplest decision, I assigned my five attribute points into strength, once more bringing it into line with my agility score. I knew that I would eventually be forced to pick between the two attributes and choose one to specialize in, but with me now so close to level thirty and the advanced class that came with, I was loath to break the pattern I’d followed so far.

I’ll figure it out when the time comes and I see what options I have to choose from, I thought as I confirmed my selection, moving onto my leadership skill tree next.

Skimming over it briefly to refresh my mind about my previous selections, I saw that I’d managed to finish the first tier of skills and that I was finally able to progress onto the second. That progression though came with an increased skill point cost for each rank, with each one now costing two of the precious leadership skill points that I’d managed to accumulate. Despite that, however, it only took me a second to make the decision to spend the points on Improved Health, which would grant a tiny bit of bonus health to any group that I was leading.

And given our experiences so far, we needed each and every tiny bonus that we could find.

With that section done, I moved onto the final one remaining to me, my glory points, where I was effectively faced with the same choices that I’d just made with my leadership skill points.

Looks like there’s a bit of crossover here between the two skill paths, I thought as I spent six hundred of my glory points to max out the Increased Mana ability and then dumped the remaining four hundred into Increased Stamina, which netted me two ranks in the ability. Sure, the increases for each of them were somewhat incremental, netting only a percent and a half and a percent respectively, but at the same time, they were skills that would continue to scale as my level and attributes grew. I wonder what options I’ll get once I max out this first tier here for the PvP skills and move onto the next. I’m sure it’ll end up being something different.

Confirming my choices once I finished spending the last of my glory points, I took the time to review my new and improved character sheet, checking over the changes that the new level and skill point spending had brought.

Statistics:

HP: 1827/1827

Stamina: 1607/1607

Mana: 1993/1993

Experience to next level: 58245/76100

Renown: 7110

Attributes:

Strength: 93 (129)

Agility: 88 (126)

Constitution: 91 (95)

Intelligence: 114 (117)

Willpower: 33 (36)

Leadership Skills:

Health Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Mana Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Stamina Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Enhanced Movement +10%. Rank: 10/10

Improved Health: +1%. Rank: 2/5

Improved Mana: +0% Rank: 0/5

Improved Stamina: +0% Rank: 0/5

Improved Leadership I. Rank: 1/1

PvP Skills:

Increased Health – Increase total Health by 2.5%. 5/5

Increased Mana – Increase total Mana by 2.5%. 5/5

Increased Stamina – Increase total Stamina by 1%. 2/5

And it looks like we’re already making good progress on our way to level twenty-nine already, I noted as I read through my character sheet and saw that I was already more than halfway through my current level. It looks like our grind through the forest, the battle with the Behir, and managing to hit all of those objectives during the raid really paid off. We even got more experience here than we did during the battle at Valor’s Point, now that I think about it.

Feeling happy with both the personal progression that I’d managed and our success in hurting the orc war machine, I closed my character sheet with a profound sense of relief flowing through me. While we hadn’t managed to achieve one of our original goals in finding the giant construct that we’d seen in the leaked Dread Crew feed, there was little doubt that our raid on Khudazal had been a resounding success. Not only did we find out valuable intelligence about the orc reinforcements heading towards Aldford, but we managed to seriously cripple the orcs’ food supply, which I was all but certain would hurt their ability to sustain any prolonged war against us. But even beyond that, we managed to free a substantial portion of the slaves that they’d captured while also simultaneously making several allies in the process in the form of Garr, Senzin, and Trivium.

Because of that, it no longer felt to me like we were back on our heels for this war, just desperately trying our best to survive another day. Instead, it felt like the balance was finally starting to shift in our favor, the immense pressure that I’d felt riding on my shoulders giving way to an emotion that I hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Hope.

Chapter 48

The Hartwyld

“Well, if you want to start with full details of our adventures so far, then…that’s a pretty long story, but I suppose we finally have the time to get into it if you’re interested,” I began as we all sat down around the campfire I’d just finished building up a few minutes earlier, the smell of cooking Behir meat wafting tantalizingly upwards from it.

It had been several long hours since our escape from Khudazal, our flight from the orc city having lasted until the first hints of the morning sun finally started to break through the canopy above. With no sign of pursuit up until that point, and both our legs and minds starting to turn to jelly from exhaustion, we all elected to stop for a much-needed rest. Finding a place relatively easily thanks to Garr, Arcturus, and the others, it was only a short while from there until we found ourselves hidden away in a tiny pocket of nature, all of us practically collapsing to the ground the moment we were safe. From there, we all then caught a desperately needed sleep for as long as we dared, eventually waking up for our next most pressing task.

Which was to finally trade our stories with one another now that we finally weren’t in danger.

“Or instead,” I continued, “if you want to get right to the point of what happened to me and why the corruption doesn’t affect me, then I can answer that easily right away. It’s because I used an Irovian artifact—something called an annulment sphere—to destroy the specter of a Naffarian slave-king that had come back to life. Unfortunately, in doing that, I ended up doing something to myself that resulted in me looking like this. Because of that, though, I can now absorb pretty much any magical energy and turn it into mana for me to use.”

Staring at me as they all processed my opening words, I was met with a variety of expressions from the gronn that had gathered around the fire with me, ranging from shock to surprise and a few instances of outright disbelief.

“You…faced a slave-king?” Garr repeated, his voice matching both the wonder and disbelief written across his face. “That’s…impossible! The Nafarr are dead, their civilization long since buried and forgotten.”

“Well, they might have been buried at one point, but lately that really hasn’t been the case for us,” I replied. “But that’s where the long story comes in. Because we’ve found and explored a pair of their ruins over the last couple months. Hell, Amaranth and I even fell into a ley line together inside one of their ruins at one point, which is why he looks the way he does.”

“Wait, you fell into a ley line? How does such a thing even happen? If my memory serves me, they are buried deep within the earth, are they not?” Garr asked incredulously, a flood of questions flowing out from the man. “And you are also telling us that you all have discovered two intact ruins from the ancient ones?”

“So far,” I answered with a nod, feeling all of the gronn’s attention on me intensify with every second that passed. “But if we’re going to be completely honest here, we’ve actually found four ruins in total so far in this region. Two belonging to the Nafarr and two to the Irovians. That’s not counting Khudazal, either.”

“You’ve found four ruins,” Garr repeated, his tone completely deadpan as spoke, the man pausing to glance at his fellow gronn who simply shook their heads in disbelief as they met his eyes. “You have any idea at all how rare that is?”

“To be honest? No, not really. Even after finding the ruins, we still barely know anything about them or what caused them to disappear,” I replied, any surprise that I might have had about them knowing about both the Irovians and the Nafarr having long since faded. The topic had already come up the day before while we were still with Aryana and the resistance, with both the arakissi and gronn among them simply nodding in familiar understanding when we’d asked if they were aware of their existence.

This clearly meant that both long-since-dead races’ legacy stretched even further than anything we’d originally thought.

“So I see,” Garr said as he turned to look back towards me, shaking his head back and forth in amazement. “I believe that it might be best if we started first with your experiences leading up to this encounter with this…slave-king you spoke of and how you gained this ability of yours to absorb magic.”

“Fair enough,” I replied with an understanding nod, pausing briefly to collect my thoughts before I continued. “I’m that case, I suppose the best place to start would be just after we reached Aldford…”

Talking then for the next few minutes, we were all treated to numerous flashes of surprise and amazement across their faces as we described the highlights of our adventures, such as the spider invasion from the Webwood, our battle with the spider queen, and my fall into the ley line. Given that we were planning on welcoming the group into Aldford for the duration of the war as allies, we wanted them to know exactly what they were getting themselves into and with no hidden secrets between us.  Continuing from there, our story eventually climaxed with our battle against the Naffarian slave-king, the mention of the ancient ghost making all the gronn look visibly uncomfortable. But for all of their reactions as we told our story, none of them compared to the one I received when I mentioned the annulment sphere and the role it had played in destroying the vengeful spirit.

“I’m sorry, you did what to destroy the slave-king?” Garr demanded, his mouth having dropped open as I finished explaining that final battle.

“I jumped into him with the annulment sphere,” I repeated, that particularly reckless choice having featured in my thoughts rather often in the last few weeks. “In hindsight, I was close enough that I could have just thrown the artifact into him, but—hang on, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“No—yes, I’m fine,” the gronn replied, shaking his head while holding a hand up to ward off my questions. “But allow me to gain clarity on this. You jumped into the creature while bearing an ancient artifact that devoured mana, which had been placed directly on a ley line tap for an untold number of centuries by the Irovians, without somehow overloading or failing. Am I understanding this sequence of events correctly?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right,” I said a bit sheepishly, offering the man a weak smile. “Though when you put it that way, it sounds a little crazy.”

“Because it was,” Garr stated, giving me an incredulous look, his gaze sliding off me just long enough to scan over the group before returning. “Regardless of that, however, you said earlier it was after your leap into the slave-king with the artifact that your body changed further and that you gained your mana draining ability?”

“It was,” I confirmed with a nod. “I lost consciousness for a short while after I jumped into him, but once I woke up, I was like this.”

I lifted my bony hands to show the gronn what I meant, going as far as to take the glove off one of them. “It was when I awoke that I first felt this hunger inside of me, which, in turn, gave me the ability to drain mana, and well, a couple other things too. Though those cases were accidents of a sort.”

“Other things?” Garr asked, his eyes moving to briefly glance at my hands, then back towards my face. “Such as what? The corruption?”

“Well, that came much later on, but yes. The first situation was when I absorbed some sort of…power from one of my comrades,” I said, recalling Lazarus’s and my brief scuffle atop the ridge overlooking Crater Lake, during which I’d absorbed a portion of the energy he used for his Sigil of Rage ability. I didn’t know it at the time, but after watching his feed, I’d learned that it hadn’t been mana that I’d absorbed and said as much to the man.

“And what was the second time?” he asked me after I finished speaking, his curiosity seeming to grow with every word that I spoke.

“Well, that case…was a bit of a special incident as well, and I have a bit of trouble recalling exactly what happened,” I started to explain, my mind recalling Carver’s ambush when we’d been returning from the Irovian tower with the æthertouched iron. “The reason for that, I think is from a side-effect from my ætherwarping, which happens if I ever completely run out of mana—and why you all saw me acting strangely during the ritual.”

Continuing to talk, with the campfire still crackling between us, I explained to the gronn the details about my ætherwarped condition and my dependency on mana, lest my body shift into a ghoul-like state. From there, I outlined the events of the tower ambush and how Carver’s familiar, or spirit companion as I now knew it was, had drained enough of my mana to trigger the change.

“Once that happened, I lost all control,” I said, recalling the events more from having watched the feed of my transformation, rather than the experience of actually living through it. “Everything after that…was pretty much a blur. I went completely wild with hunger as my body started to consume itself and tried to find any mana I could to drain, but without any luck. I fought and fought, but eventually, my injuries caught up to me and well…”

I ended my statement with a shrug, the inevitable conclusion to that sequence of events being obvious.

“Let’s just say that coming back to life that time was a bit more of a shock than it usually is and convinced me to make sure that I never lost control again.”

“I see,” Garr said softly, leaning back as my story finally came to an end, one of his hands reaching up to scratch his head in thought. “That is…remarkable. Beyond remarkable, truthfully. That you all can just…snap back into existence so easily after death. And this tale is only the beginning of what you have to share with us, yes? If so you have all had quite the journey so far. More than anything I could have imagined.”

“Oh, you could definitely say that again,” I agreed with a morbid chuckle. “And yes, there is quite a bit more to go still.”

“Then I would certainly wish to hear the rest of it,” Garr replied, his expression half lost in thought as he spoke. “But to go back for a moment, after you awoke from destroying the slave-king, what happened to this annulment sphere that you used? Do you still possess it?”

“We do,” I said, my mind shifting to the aftermath of that particular battle. “But after the battle, it was broken in two. We still have the fragments somewhere back in Aldford, but whatever ability it had is gone now though.”

“Are you certain about that?” Garr asked eagerly as he looked at me with a variety of emotions that I couldn’t quite identify.

“Uh,” I grunted, caught off guard by the man unexpected intensity. “As much as we can be? Why do you ask?”

“Because of what you just said,” Garr stated. “You awoke with a new hunger unlike any other within you. Did that hunger come from the changes in your body due to the exposure to more æther? Or did you somehow absorb this hunger from the sphere itself? Or even perhaps the sphere granted you the ability through some sort of unknown spellcraft.”

“Oh, you mean that,” I replied, slightly adjusting my mental train of thought at the gronn’s array of questions. “I’m afraid I don’t know the answers to any of those questions. I guess it’s possible that I might have absorbed something from the sphere when it broke or maybe was cursed by it. But at the same time, the side effects were only the intensification of my previous ætherwarping symptoms, so I’m not sure. We just don’t know enough about either the sphere or what it means to be ætherwarped to even form a theory of what happened.”

“But one of our lorekeepers might,” Arcturus interjected. “Perhaps they would have an answer for us if the fragments were brought to them.”

“Perhaps indeed,” Garr agreed, excitement coloring his expression as he glanced over towards his friend and nodded.

“Sorry, lorekeepers?” I queried, seizing the opportunity to ask a question of my own, especially since it seemed that we’d been left behind in the conversation. “I think you might have lost us there.”

“Ah, my apologies, Lyrian,” Garr replied, turning his attention back towards me. “Lorekeepers are those among our people who have made a study of the ancient ones’ magic along with the ruins and few bits of artifice they have left behind.”

“And by the ancient ones, you mean the Irovians and the Nafarr,” I stated, watching the pair, along with several of the other gronn around the fire, nod in response. “Okay, why don’t we backtrack a little bit more then. How is it that you all know so much about them? From what little we’ve been able to discover ourselves, they seemed fairly localized to this region here, but then you’ve also found more of their ruins closer to your home to the north?”

“Much, much farther north from here, but yes, we have,” Garr replied, his face tightening as he nodded in response to my inquiry. “But nothing as grand or intact as what you have described thus far and nor as recent as your adventures. Any such ruins belonging to the ancient ones that my people know of were found and either sealed or destroyed by our ancestors centuries ago. As you’ve no doubt discovered firsthand yourselves, they can be quite dangerous if left to their own devices.”

“Just a little,” Caius stated as a series of snorts passed around the campfire at his gross understatement.

“Indeed,” Garr stated before continuing. “But as for how we know of the Nafarr in particular, it is because we share a dark history with them. For many centuries ago—long, long before their fall—my people were once counted as their slaves.”

“Wait, you were?” I exclaimed incredulously. “I-I had no idea! I didn’t know that they’d enslaved any others aside from the orcs and goblins.”

“They most certainly did,” Arcturus assured me in an eager tone, speaking up before Garr could answer. “During their reign, all who were not Nafarr themselves were either enslaved, or if not, hunted to exile or extinction. They were absolute tyrants without remorse, and it was not in them to tolerate any rival or challenge to their supremacy.”

“Until the Irovians stood up to them,” I guessed while processing what the gronn had said. For as much as we’d discovered about the Nafarrian ruins so far, we’d only been able to catch brief glimpses at their actual culture. To be able to have a firsthand, or close as we were going to get, perspective of what they’d been like was practically priceless.

“You are correct,” Garr acknowledged. “We do not know how their war started, but it was they who tipped the Nafarr off balance and eventually brought about their downfall when the slaves began to revolt. At least all the slaves other than the orcs and goblins.”

“They didn’t rebel?” I asked curiously, moving slightly so I could hear him better over the crackling fire.

“They did not,” Garr answered. “According to the histories that have been passed down, it has been thought that their two races were the first that the Nafarr had enslaved. Supposedly an age before they encountered and did the same to us. To be under the Nafarr’s domination for so long, I cannot help but wonder if they’d simply lost their understanding of freedom and chose to stay with their masters out of habit, not knowing that there was another choice available to them. And also why they continue to venerate them even now, long after they’ve passed into memory.”

“That’s possible,” I replied, leaning back with a sigh. “I mean, beyond fanaticism, I can’t think of a reason either why they would have spent so long trying to recover Eberia. To fight for so long and throw so many lives away with so little gain, I just can’t understand it.”

“Neither can any of us,” Garr said, matching my sigh with one of his own. “But with everything that has happened in this war thus far, we are far past the point of understanding. Survival is all that matters to us.”

“That I can understand,” I said, knowing firsthand just how difficult that simple goal could be.

“Yes,” the man agreed, nodding sadly towards me. “I believe you would. This is why I believe that it might be best if we took the reins of this conversation for a time. Both to recall the trials that have brought us here and why we have such an interest in this artifact and your ability to shrug off the corruption so effortlessly. I believe it would answer all of the questions that I see forming in your eyes as we speak.”

“That would definitely help, I think,” I replied, nodding eagerly towards the man, seeing several of the others do the same out of the corner of my eye.

“Good,” Garr stated, his already downcast expression falling further and a tinge of emotion entering his voice as he continued to speak. “Then we will begin our story with the simplest words that could best describe our plight.

“What you see here before you, along with those who escaped into the Fens with Aryana, may very well be all that remains of the gronn people.”

Chapter 49

The forest was almost perfectly silent as we all absorbed Garr’s words, only the faint sounds of rustling leaves and distant creatures echoing out in the distance. Promptly after his cryptic statement, Garr had paused for a handful of seconds as if to consider his next words, his head slowly shaking from side to side.

“Hrm, and after those starting words, I now find myself at a loss of how to even begin,” Garr said, his voice still heavy from his earlier statement, something clearly weighing on his mind. “Perhaps, Arcturus, if you are willing, you could begin the tale of our people and how our war with the orcs began? You are much better at telling than I am.”

“Only because I’ve seen at least a dozen more winters than you,” the grey-furred gronn replied with a snort, his voice then turning gentler. “However, I would be honored to share our story with our rescuers.”

Shifting in his seat, the older warrior paused to gather his thoughts for a few seconds, eventually glancing over towards us as he began to speak. “Looking back over my memories, I believe that it would best to begin our tale ten…or possibly eleven moons ago, just before the harvest, and long before we were forced to flee our homeland.

“Originally, we gronn settled a land far to the northeast from here, our people divided amongst various territories and clanholds,” he explained, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he spoke. “Some of these clanholds belonged to a single clan, while others were communal, hosting many separate clans at once. I myself came from one of the oldest and largest amongst my people, one named Kata.”

“I would not pretend to say that our people did not have conflict between themselves,” Arcturus continued. “Wars between clans and even entire clanholds occasionally consumed us throughout our history. However, we were always unified against any orc incursions into our territories.”

“Did that happen often?” I asked, listening with rapt attention as the man spoke. Already, right off the bat, it sounded to me that the gronn nation—or maybe better, civilization—had been a fairly large one.

“Yes…and no,” the grey-furred gronn replied, his eyes turning to look towards Garr. “And that is what cost us our homeland.”

“Hm? What do you mean?” I asked, following the man’s gaze.

“It is how Arcturus said,” he replied, breathing a sad sigh. “We were always unified against any orc incursions. Until they stopped coming altogether.”

“You mean because of our war,” Constantine stated from amid our group, understanding suddenly passing through each of us. “The orcs had their attention focused on Eberia for nearly forty years.”

“And left us to our own devices for two generations,” Arcturus said, offering me a grim nod. “It pains me to think that the only reason why my people remained unified was because of the constant orc threats we faced. But I lived to see it firsthand.

“At the beginning, we rejoiced for the first summer that the orcs did not appear to raid our settlements, making use of the peace to prepare for the next,” he continued. “Then when the second summer came with no sign of them, we began to fear that they were massing for an invasion, as they’d had tried before in the past, and we began to search for them.”

“And you didn’t find them,” I said, already getting a feeling for how events played out.

“We did not,” Arcturus affirmed. “We ventured out into the orc lands as far as we dared and found no sign of them. It was as if they’d all vanished into the wind. Their settlements had been pulled down or left to rot, and all their slaves had been taken with them. Confused and afraid of where they could have possibly gone, we called on the spirits to tell us, only then learning that they had rushed to defend one of their fallen masters’ ruins.”

“What did you all do after finding out?” I asked.

“Nothing,” Arcturus stated bitterly, several of the other gronn behind him growling out in sympathy. “At first, the elders amongst the clans were paralyzed with fear at the sudden action the orcs had shown. Then as the years wore on, they became convinced that the orcs would never return. Our society began to shift, what unity that we’d had in the face of keeping our lands intact as a people, fragmenting into clan-based loyalties.”

“Which then, in turn, led to a new generation of clan wars as many attempted to expand their territories into the lands that the orcs had abandoned,” Garr added. “Or so they had all thought.”

“Until the orcs came back,” I said, getting a feeling of where this story was heading.

“Until the orcs came back,” he affirmed. “When they returned, they returned with a fury unlike anything we’d ever seen, reclaiming their lands with little effort and pressing onwards without pause. The grudges that had formed over the decades that the orcs had been gone made clans slow to come to one another’s aid, fearing betrayal or an attack from a rival. Because of this, the orcs carved deep into our lands before we could muster a force large enough from the still-unified clanholds to meet them.”

“Once we did, however, we fought for months with no end in sight, the winter doing little to slow the orcs assault,” Arcturus said, switching once again with Garr. “And every month we were forced to give more and more ground, lest we be overwhelmed. Where in the past our elders and veteran warriors had said the orcs to be brash and reckless, they were now cunning and disciplined. It was as if we fought an entirely new enemy that’d we’ve never seen before.”

“Why were they so committed to the fighting?” I asked, the thought coming to mind as I mentally pictured how fighting in the snow and ice must have been. “I can understand the orcs wanting to reclaim their lands, even retaliating in kind to some extent. But to wage such a war on your people right after they had been forced to abandon one against Eberia, I don’t see why they’d take that risk.”

“Nor did we. At least, at first,” Garr replied, shaking his head. “However, as the war unfolded, the orcs eventually made it clear that they were looking to subjugate us entirely, to take us all as slaves. Or failing that goal, ensure that not a single free gronn remained alive to resist them.”

“And was that different than what they did in the past?” I queried, this time looking towards Arcturus.

“To an extent,” the warrior answered with a sigh. “Before, when I was still young, their incursions almost always revolved around either gaining territory for an expanding tribe or raiding for food and other supplies. Slaves were occasionally taken in these raids as well; however, it was never a unified push with a great number of tribes behind it. Often times it began with a mad and reckless assault with a single or occasionally, a pair of tribes, focused on some short-term goal, then ending just as quickly when we rallied, or their own infighting ruined their momentum. This war, on the other hand, had a dozen, if not more, tribes behind it.”

“However, regardless of those changes in orc tactics,” he continued, his voice hardening as he spoke. “We might have been able to stand up to their attacks if it hadn’t been for one of the tribe’s warlords, Krol, and his heralds.”

“Aryana told us a bit about him,” I said, recalling our conversations with the resistance leader. “She told us that he was responsible for unifying the orcs together again after our war.”

“That and so much more. For he is a defiler unlike any other in memory,” Garr answered in a savage tone, taking over for Arcturus. “Bearing powers and magic that we had no answer for. Worse amongst them being the corruption that now plagues us.

“But all of that we discovered later in the war, for, in the beginning, Krol’s and his followers’ influence amongst the orcs was muted, and their tribe was among the smallest. Yet as the war unfolded, they easily proved to be the deadliest and most vicious of the orcs. Wherever they appeared, their magic soon spoiled what food we had been able to harvest and store, followed by the corruption they wielded, weakening our warriors until they were too weak to stand unaided, let alone fight,” Garr said, pausing for a few seconds as his voice broke with anger and grief. “And, of course, they were responsible for the monstrosities that began to appear.”

“I’m sorry, Garr,” I offered softly, feeling the pain in the man’s voice as he recounted that part of his story.

“It was the arrival of those new horrors that truly broke the war for us, the sheer number of them forcing us back to Kata, where the orcs besieged us, content to trap us in place while they continued their war elsewhere,” Garr said, offering me a nod in thanks as he continued to speak. “By the time mid-spring arrived, the clanhold’s fall seemed all but guaranteed, with the only option seemingly left being to sell our lives as dearly as we could when our defenses failed. But despite the certain death and enslavement that awaited us, we refused to stand idle and simply wait for the orcs to come over our walls. Instead, we turned to our own magics in hopes of answer and began a spirit calling ritual unlike any of our shamans have ever attempted before. One to call a great spirit that we prayed would bring succor to us—or if failing that, avenge us.

“And so, with the orcs baying at our walls, we prepared for the calling, spending nearly a week to lay the groundwork for the ritual,” Garr continued, his eyes alternating between Amaranth and I as he spoke. “Then, once it was ready, we began.

“For three days and three nights did we work the ritual,” he went onto explain. “And for three days and three nights did we weather a nigh-unstoppable onslaught from the orcs, their shamans and adepts having sensed the scope if not the purpose of our ritual. Yet despite their best efforts, we only barely kept them at bay. Our defenders buying every precious hour we needed for the ritual to complete with rivers of blood. Then finally, when we thought we could last no longer, the ritual finished, and a spirit answered our call.

“Or at least what we thought was just a spirit,” Garr said, pausing to clear his throat, losing himself briefly in a memory. “I wish I had the words to describe its vengeance when it took the field against the orcs. But anything I could offer would pale in light of what had actually happened. In just hours after the ritual’s completion, the orcs besieging the walls and those gathered beyond were scattered like leaves on the wind.

“It wasn’t until afterward, once the orcs were broken, that we’d realized what had truly answered our call for aid. It hadn’t been a great spirit of the land as we’d intended, but an ancestral spirit of our people. A spirit out of legend named ‘The Shasine’. On returning from the battle, it told us that we needed to flee, that it would not be able to protect us for a second time when the orcs returned with renewed numbers. It tore at us to abandon all those that had been captured by the orcs or remained besieged in other clanholds, but there was little else that we could do. To linger was to risk death or enslavement, and if we were to have any hope at surviving, we had to flee.”

“And so that is what we did when the sun broke the sky the next morning,” Arcturus said, switching once more with Garr. “With the Shasine’s protection and guidance, we then escaped past the broken orcs and fled as fast we could manage, the spirit promising to lead us to a safe sanctuary where we could recover and hopefully rebuild our society.

“Unfortunately, however, the orcs were quick to react from their defeat, and before long, we found ourselves harassed relentlessly, at first in small numbers, then in larger ones as entire warbands moved to cut off our escape. Their delaying tactics eventually allowed for Krol and several other tribes to catch up to us when we were just shy of finally reaching our promised refuge,” he continued with a note of finality in his voice. “It was there that they offered us the same ultimatum that we’d often heard throughout the war for one final time. Surrender and be allowed to live as slaves or refuse and die.”

“That isn’t much of a choice,” I replied in a soft voice, feeling a low surge of anger course through me at the gronn’s words.

“We did not think of it as much of one either,” Garr agreed. “And so, their offer was rebuked, followed by what we thought would be our end as they moved to see their threat through. Yet to our surprise, as the other orc tribes advanced towards us, Krol and his tribe did not join them. Instead, they stood apart and watched the battle from afar.”

“Hang on a second. He did nothing at all?” Halcyon interrupted, all of us having hung on all of the two gronns’ words so far. “Even after chasing you all that way?”

“Oh, he did far from nothing,” Garr replied, putting a special emphasis on the final word as he shook his head, a scowl coming across his face. “It was just that his actions were not directed at us for the majority of the battle.”

“It wasn’t?” I asked, noticing the man’s expression and choice of words. “What do you mean?”

“He turned against his people,” Garr stated in a flat voice, his hazel eyes moving upwards to meet mine. “He waited until the battle between us and the other tribes was fully joined, and then began to work his magics against his allies, ravaging them as he once ravaged us.”

“He did what?” I exclaimed in shock. “Why the hell would he do that?”

“Why else do orcs turn commonly on one another, Lyrian?” Garr asked in a soft voice. “To rid themselves of a rival.”

“A rival?” I repeated, feeling my eyes widen as a realization then crossed my mind. “You mean the other tribes.”

“Indeed,” he answered with a nod before continuing the story. “At first, we didn’t understand what was happening as the orcs collapsed in on themselves and their corrupted monstrosities began to tear through their own ranks. But within short order, we began to see Krol and his followers viciously slaughtering the other orcs.”

“But for all the attention his followers paid to slaying his rivals, Krol himself had his mind focused upon a greater goal,” Garr said, anger lacing his voice as he glanced back into the fire, its flames dancing in his eyes as he spoke. “The Shasine.

“Striding across the battlefield as a moth would to a flame, he bore no hesitation in approaching the spirit, a great well of dark magic forming itself around the weapon he carried. Then, just when he stepped within reach of the Shasine, he struck, the scythe he bore carving a vicious wound into its side and sending it falling to the ground, writhing in agony.”

“He did that with just one spell?” I asked in disbelief, glancing between Arcturus and Garr. “How?”

“We do not know,” Garr stated in a quiet voice. “But whatever his goal with the attack, it only served to stun the spirit for an instant, the Shasine rising up afterward with truly unrestrained fury, even more so than what we saw after its calling. It smote Krol with enough force to see him thrown across the battlefield, the two of them exchanging a blinding torrent of magic as they warred with one another. The result was enough to ravage everything around them—enough so that it broke all of our forces, causing us all to flee from the chaos.”

“Which unfortunately for most of us here, ended up being the wrong decision to make,” Arcturus said, his head thrusting forward to indicate Garr and the other gronn accompanying us. “Lost and confused in the fog of war, we fled in the direction of what we thought were our people, but instead, we found ourselves deep amongst the enemy. Some took the opportunity to fight to the death…while others, such as us, were not afforded such a luxury and were taken as slaves.”

“Damn,” I whispered quietly to myself as the story reached its climax, finding myself nearly speechless as a result. “So you all don’t even know what happened to your people then? After the battle, I mean.”

“Only vague whispers and rumors from those who were captured later than us,” Garr answered with a shake of his head. “Some speak of our people escaping in the aftermath of the battle, while others said they wandered across fields of dead, seeing no living soul as far as they searched. The only common word that we heard from the chaos was that both Krol and the Shasine survived their exchange with one another, but each with serious injuries.”

“So then you don’t know if your people made it in the end,” Constantine said. “To wherever the spirit was taking you.”

“No, I am afraid we do not—not for certain at least,” Garr replied. “And even if they did, we have no idea if they have survived since, for it has been a season since our capture and enslavement within Khudazal. It is possible that none survived the battle, or if they did, that they’ve been slaughtered by the orcs since.”

“But,” the druid added in a hopeful tone, “if the Shasine did truly survive the battle with Krol, then there is hope that my people may have found a way to survive and are yet still fighting this war as best as they can manage.”

“And you want to find and rejoin them if they still are,” I said, now having a much better understanding of the gronn’s motivation as well as their curiosity about my condition.

“We do,” Garr affirmed with a nod. “And if we are able to return to them with a way of mitigating or even curing the corruption…then perhaps all the suffering and death that we’ve endured will have been worth it.”

“I see,” I replied, pausing to weigh my next words carefully. “And if there is anything that we can do to help you all with that, we would be glad to. In the meantime, though—”

“There is the more immediate concern of the horde of orcs heading towards your home,” Garr interjected with a nod. “Rest assured that we all full well understand the path that Fate has put us on and that if there is any chance of us reuniting with our people that it will not be until after Khudazal has fallen and the orcs within scattered. Or is that not what you were about to speak of?”

“Um, it was actually,” I answered, any sheepishness I might have had fading away in the reassuring expressions I saw both on Garr and the other gronn. “And we appreciate the understanding.”

“And we appreciate your rescue from what would have otherwise been a truly torturous end, while also allowing us to strike a blow against orcs in the process,” Arcturus stated in a gracious tone. “I would also like to say that if the only way to be reunited once again with our people happens to be by climbing over a mountain of dead orcs, then I would consider it a journey worth taking twice.”

“So would we all,” Garr agreed with a growl, all of the other gronn following suit. Afterward, the man fixed all of us with a hopeful look, his eyes scanning among our ranks. “I hope now with our tale told that you all understand now where our hearts lie with regards to this war and what it has already cost us.”

“We certainly do,” I replied, the gronns’ story having filled much of the context that we’d been missing from what I now realized was a colossally sized world event. One large enough that it completely dwarfed all of our experiences so far.

Which all of this must have been leading up to, piece by piece, I thought in the back of my mind, recalling of all the minor events that had led us to this moment. I couldn’t help but wonder how events would have looked had we failed to stop Graves and the slave-king possessing him, or if not that, then the events of the Twilight Grove and the ruptured ley line. Maybe they would have headed this event off completely. Or hell, more likely, made it a thousand times worse. Especially if both Graves and Carver somehow ended up at the helm driving it.

“Hey, if it’s okay to ask, I actually have a question after all of that,” Constantine said, his uncertain voice pulling me out my thoughts and causing me to shift over and look at him. “But it might be a little bit of a stupid one.”

“In my experiences, there are few questions that truly are such,” Garr replied with a gentle shake of his head. “What is it that you wish to know? We would be more than happy to answer if we can.”

“Well, maybe it’s less stupid, and more just basic,” Constantine said as more eyes started to shift over towards him. “But can you tell us what a spirit exactly is? Because in your story you mentioned something about both a great spirit and then an ancestral spirit, and I know we have all these…uh, regular spirits that we’ve been forced to deal with too. I’m starting to have a little bit of a hard time keeping track of them all and understand why they’re so different. Heck, until this all started, we didn’t even know that these kinds of spirits even existed in the first place.”

“Truly you did not?” Garr replied in surprise, his eyes scanning over each of us as we all nodded in response to the rogue’s question. “Your people did not have any contact with the spirits of the land at all before this?”

“Maybe some did, but by majority, no,” I said with a shake of my head as the druid’s gaze fell onto mine. “As a society, we tend to lean towards the arcane arts when it comes to magic. The closest thing that we ever would have come in contact with would be the spirits of the undead, such as ghosts and specters, and I know just enough to realize how different those two are from the spirits we fought earlier.”

“As different as the day is to the night,” he stated. “This is a very good question to ask, and one that we will need to answer first before we can speak of the corruption.”

Pausing to collect his thoughts, Garr fell silent as he considered what to say next, eventually speaking out in a confident voice. “To begin with, the simplest definition of a spirit would be to think of them as an aspect of the world around us. An easy example of this would be to look at the pure elemental spirits, which embody the more primal forces of nature. Elements such as fire, wind, water, and stone, to name a handful.”

“Such spirits like these are the simplest in purpose and in thought. They simply exist as an extension of the element that birthed them and will quickly disperse when not in its presence,” the gronn continued to explain. “But above these primal spirits, there are more complex spirits that embody other and often more intricate aspects of nature. Examples of these can again be rather nebulous to define, such as those of the essences that you found, Lyrian, while others are as specific as a spirit representing that of a wolf.”

“But aren’t wolves also alive?” Constantine asked as we all followed along with Garr’s explanation. “Wouldn’t a spirit of a wolf be the same thing as a ghost of a wolf then?”

“Not necessarily,” he replied with a shake of his head. “For while the two may be similar in appearance, their purpose and embodiment vary greatly, if only for the simple fact that spirits are considered to still be alive while ghosts are considered undead. It is perhaps too a fine distinction to make, but it is an important one. Beings that leave a ghost behind on their death are those who have died in the grip of great distress or emotional upheaval, or if not that, they have been cursed by dark magic to remain tethered to the mortal world.”

“That part we are familiar with,” I said, recalling Shelia’s old explanation of how ghosts tended to fixate on a single purpose that was important to them in life. “The ghosts we’ve dealt with all died trying to protect a place, but they refused to pass on afterward. Instead, they thought they had to keep protecting it.”

“And nothing in the world would ever change their mind on that,” Garr stated. “That is because only an echo of their past selves remain. Enough to have them endlessly repeating a single purpose, but not enough to actually think. In contrast, a spirit is completely aware of itself and its surroundings and can adapt to change.”

“Okay, I think I understand that,” Constantine said with a nod to show that he was still following. “But how does that end up with a spirit wolf then if they aren’t quite ghosts? Or really any spirit animal for that matter?”

“Because much like my example with the primal elements, a spirit animal is a representation of the very concept of an animal in question,” Garr answered patiently. “Or better described, it is the ideal vision of what the animal itself is. To use a wolf as an example once again, a spiritual version of itself would essentially be the simultaneous embodiment of the hunt, the pack, the wild, and all the countless other attributes of nature that help define it. It is even possible for a spirit animal to truly have been an animal once, having transcended into a spirit upon its death because these ideals were so potent within it. This is commonly how great spirits are born, for they are best described as true exemplars of a lesser spirit, both in the potency of their presence and the power they command.”

“That…sounds really complicated,” I replied as I listened to the gronn’s description, finding his explanation a fair bit deeper than what I had been expecting.

“All life is complicated, regardless of if they are spirits or made of flesh and bone,” he acknowledged, his face turning a little darker as he continued to speak. “Which is why you saw the fear on our faces when you described your encounter with the slave-king. For I believe that based on your words, that it was an ancestor spirit, a spirit that represented the collective will and essence of the Nafarr people from before they fell.

“Much like a spirit of a wolf would represent the ideal vision of the animal, so does an ancestral spirit represent an ideal vision of a people, all the traits, virtues, and even memories that their culture held dear, condensed into a single entity. So much so that it forms its own identity or retains its former one if it was once a living being.”

“That…that is a lot,” I said numbly as I tried to wrap my mind around the man’s description, a single thought jumping out at me. “It almost sounds like you’re talking about a god.”

“And what is a god, but a truly powerful spirit?” Garr replied before going on to give all of us a shrug. “I do not profess to know what may, or may not, truly quantify as such, but on my own witnessing of the Shasine, I know that ancestral spirits are incredibly potent beings in their own right. And in case of this slave-king, it is truly fortunate that you stopped him before he could regain what power he lost over the half a millennia since the fall of his people. I shudder to think what he may have been able to achieve had he not been.”

“You and all of us,” I agreed, once again recalling my thoughts from just a few minutes earlier. “That would have been a nightmare.”

“Without a doubt,” Garr agreed, his gaze playing over our group and seeing the other questions written on our faces. “Ah, I can see that my words have opened the floodgates. Perhaps we have time to answer one or two more? Afterward it would perhaps be best that we resumed our journey. We still do have quite the distance ahead of us, do we not?”

“We do,” I replied, trying to factor in the distance back to Aldford with the faster pace that we were able to sustain now that we had Garr and the other druids to speed our progress. Originally, it had taken us almost thirty hours of non-stop movement, roughly the equivalent of three normal days of travel, to blaze a path through the Hartwyld to Khudazal. It was a pace that we’d only been able to manage due to Spirit of the Wild giving us an edge in speed and our sleep shifting efforts in jumping between the game and reality, allowing us to continuously move with just a single rest stop. With the ability to move even faster and without fighting creatures on our return trip, it was my guess that we’d be able to shave a third of that time off, even with the extra distance added to travel to Aldford, instead of Valor’s Point. “If we push hard for the whole day and don’t take any breaks, we should be able to make it back to Aldford sometime late tonight or really early tomorrow morning, assuming that we don’t run into any surprises.”

“Then, I’m taking my question right now, because I don’t want to wait that long,” Halcyon interjected eagerly before anyone else could say anything, turning his attention fully on Garr. “So. About your experiences with the corruption…”

Chapter 50

Tuesday, April 23rd, 2047 – 1:05 a.m.

The Wild

“What is that?” Garr exclaimed as we finally stepped free of the forest, a chorus of voices from the other gronn echoing out a few seconds behind him. “I-Is that—”

“The tree? Yeah, it is,” I replied with a slight smile as I turned to look westward and saw the familiar azure beacon far on the night’s horizon that signaled the end to what had been an exceptionally long journey. “We shouldn’t be too far away now. Maybe a quarter-hour or so if we have one last burst of energy in us to set a good pace.”

“I’ll set whatever pace you want, Lyr, so long as there’s a soft bed waiting for me at the finish line,” Halcyon grumbled in response, his voice slurring in exhaustion. “And I mean literally at the finish line because soon as we’re past the gates, I’m passing out on top of the first comfortable thing I can find. Mages aren’t made to run for as long as we have today.”

“Neither are rogues,” Constantine chimed in an equally tired tone. “But on that note, you’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re the one getting the first soft thing. I call dibs.”

“Dibs? You can’t call dibs on something we haven’t even seen yet,” the mage growled back. “That’s not how it works.”

“Says the man who failed to call dibs when he had the chance,” Constantine replied, the pair’s bickering fading as they moved past me, allowing Arcturus a chance to comment.

“The tree must be truly massive to be seen from this far,” he said with clear awe in his voice as he glanced over towards me. “I understand better now when you said that mere words would not do its description justice.”

“Just wait until you see it up close,” I replied as I signaled for the gronn to follow me, the group having stopped to stare at sudden appearance. “There’s nothing in the world like it.”

“I imagine not,” Garr agreed as he and the others moved along with me, their eyes rarely leaving the western horizon. “To see something that has tapped directly into the ley line…it is a wonder beyond measure.”

With the gronn continuing to mutter and talk excitedly amongst themselves, we all began the final leg of our trek, eager to finally be back home in Aldford and feeling the relentless exhaustion that had built up over the course of the day. It had been a long, yet mercifully uneventful trip back through the Hartwyld, the safety of Garr’s and the other druids’ magic allowing us to go as far as to even take short, and much-needed rest cycles back in reality. The brief rests helped turn the sixteen-hour return trip into something manageable for us to endure, each of us suffering from some level of sleep deprivation due to the odd hours that we’d forced ourselves to keep to over the last few days. For many in the group, those breaks took the form of desperately needed naps to help bridge themselves through the day, having them log back in feeling somewhat refreshed and in good spirits. But, of course, me being me, using those breaks as a chance to relax or sleep as the others did had been the last thing on my mind, at least at first.

Instead, my plan had been to use them as a chance to catch up on everything that I’d missed over the last few days, having delegated all of my responsibilities to the others that had stayed behind so I could better focus on the raid itself. During that time, the best I’d been able to get were a few highlights from Constantine whenever he jumped back out into reality to pass along our own updates. The result left me feeling more than a little out of the loop now that we were heading home, and I wanted to get a jump start on remedying that as fast as possible.

Which, as I discovered earlier today, had been exactly what Freya anticipated I would do.

Still remembering how her face had appeared on my monitor the second that I sat down at one of the suite’s computers, I’d been greeted by a prerecorded message that she’d left for me, it beginning with a particular admonishment about the dangers of burnout. Of course, with her knowing me well enough to guess what I was going to do, she also knew exactly the information that I’d be looking for, summarizing it in a fraction of time that it would have taken me to look up.

Starting first with the most obvious and pressing thing that I would be interested in, the war, she’d outlined the various skirmishes and even one battle that they’d been able to surprise the orcs in. From her summary, I learned that the orcs had spent the last two days attempting to envelop Valor’s Point from both sides, using their superior numbers to force us into defending a wide front, which Freya admitted was working. There were only so many defenders to go around, and both she and Sierra had been forced to make hard choices on where to best position them without completely stripping the base.

It was one of those choices in particular that allowed one of our skirmishing groups to completely surprise a large warband that had been attempting to flank Valor’s Point through the Hartwyld, catching them in a poor position with little magical support. The result ended up being over a hundred dead orcs at the cost of a dozen or so exhausted mages, along with a small forest fire that mercifully burnt itself out before it could spread too far. But, of course, as much as that lucky decision helped on that occasion, it was the best victory of any kind that we’d been able to claim. The orcs’ relentless pressure on both the western flank and Valor’s Point itself was steadily taking its toll in territory, death penalties, and a gradually increasing corruption counter among the defenders.

Which still makes me wonder if it isn’t a good idea to head to Valor’s Point tonight after we get the gronn settled, I asked myself as we all continued to move towards the now not so distant tree, the thought of making the trek to the base causing a renewed wave of exhaustion to wash over me. Or maybe, on second thought, it can wait until later in the morning. I’m not so sure I’m up for the trip, now that I think about it. With how tired I am, I’d either get lost, or even worse—I’d end up walking into an ambush.

Stifling a yawn as my wandering thoughts continued to swirl, I paused for just long enough to check my surroundings before losing myself in them once again, recalling the next part of Freya’s briefing and how her face had tightened anxiously as she broke the news. Apparently, during our absence, an update had managed to come through from our impending reinforcements, warning us that not only would they be a little late arriving in Aldford, but that they’d also run into a problem on the journey.

Inasmuch as several hundred extra tagalong adventurers and NPCs joining their exodus from Coldscar could be described as a problem.

Having rapidly grown in intensity over the last few days, the guild wars surrounding Coldscar had expanded to the point where it had completely consumed the entire region, turning it into a vicious bloodbath. Guilds that had desperately tried to stay neutral throughout the conflict had found themselves brutally dragged into it against their will, suffering raids from one, if not both, of the two major alliances as they each moved to consolidate territory. This then prompted a large flood of refugees, more than anything we’d been expecting to look for a way out of the conflict.

Which, as fate had it, happened to be to join both the Legion and Lionheart guilds as they cut a path westwards and out of the now war-torn lands, finding safety in the numbers that they had.

Burdened with the need to now protect both themselves and their tagalongs, the group’s progress couldn’t help but slow down as a result, their now noticeable presence inevitably attracting the predatory eye of opportunistic raiders who they were then forced to stop and defend themselves against. Fortunately, though, from what Freya went onto relay after the initial bad news, the delay was relatively minor in the grand scheme of things, adding roughly two more days until the bulk of the reinforcements arrived in Aldford—something that given the sheer number of people now on their way towards us would actually work in our favor since it would give us more time to figure out where to put all of them when they finally arrived. Furthermore, she also said that she’d been told that several groups of adventurers had chosen to break away from following the main group at their slower pace, instead choosing to rush ahead to Aldford on their own. So while we had to still wait a bit longer for the guilds themselves to get here, small groups of adventurers had already begun to arrive as early as this past morning, giving us a desperately needed boost in manpower.

Once those two major topics were out of the way, the message wound down with a brief update on Lazarus and the others, Freya telling me that the trio had finally departed Coldscar for Eberia with a handful of other adventurers accompanying them. Unfortunately, she gave me few more details beyond that, but from what I’d been able to infer, the group had found a promising lead to follow in their investigation on who had tried to kill Veronia’s father and were eagerly pursuing it. Then with that final bit of knowledge imparted into me, I was promptly told in no uncertain terms to go and get some sleep, which with my curiosity being sated, I was actually able to do.

And is likely the only reason why I haven’t passed out mid-stride today, I added in silent gratitude to the woman’s efforts to see me rested, half wondering what state I’d be in right now if I hadn’t taken her advice. Probably passed out and sleeping in my pod after the game kicked me out for exhaustion.

With my thoughts winding down as we finally got close enough to Aldford for it to appear in the distance, I found myself exhaling a sigh of relief as my eyes landed on it. Illuminated brightly from both the azure glow of the massive oak tree towering above and mage lights that had been installed along the palisade bordering the town, the sight brought the immediate feeling of coming home—something that I hadn’t realized I’d missed. Unable to help but speed our step just a little bit faster now that our destination was practically within arm’s reach, it was less than a handful of minutes from when it had first appeared until a familiar voice called out to greet us.

“Halt!” I heard Ioun shout from a distance, the once-villager now turned guardsman just barely visible from on top of the gate that guarded Aldford’s southern entrance. “Identify yourselves before coming closer!”

“Ioun! It’s me, Lyrian!” I called back to the man as we continued to advance a few steps farther so that the light radiating outward from the town would cast us as more than just fuzzy shadows, allowing us to be identified all the easier. “We’re back from our journey and have a group of new allies accompanying us! We’d like to be let into the town if you don’t mind.”

“Lyrian?” he called back at first in apparent confusion as he squinted towards us, a more confident exclamation ringing out a second afterward. “Ah! It is you! Come inside quickly then! An alarm just went out a few minutes ago! It may not be safe out there!”

“An alarm?” I called back with worry, and we began to move once more, a sudden spike of cold shooting through my veins, extinguishing the earlier excitement I’d had at arriving home. “What happened? Did they say what’s going on?”

“Only that Valor’s Point is under attack again!” Ioun shouted back to me as we all broke into a run, the sudden burst of adrenaline temporarily banishing the exhaustion weighing on us. “And that we need to secure the town and keep a sharp eye out for invaders!”

“Damn,” I hissed in a near whisper, feeling my heart leap at the guardsman’s words as our sprint rapidly took us towards Aldford’s gate, the large wooden door swinging open just enough to let us through. There were only a handful of reasons why Ioun would have been told to watch for invaders, and they were all among the last ones that I wanted to entertain, especially this late at night.

Gritting my teeth as a variety of scenarios rushed through my mind, we all took the bridge at a run, crossing in the span of a heartbeat before passing through the gate and entering into Aldford itself. No sooner did we step into the town were we greeted by the sounds of frenzied activity and movement, seeing both townsfolk and adventurers rushing through the streets as they reacted to the alarm.

“Well, so much for crashing to sleep as soon as we got back!” Constantine exclaimed as we moved, pitching his voice loud enough to be heard over the noise. “What do you think happened?”

“Nothing good if it has everyone up and awake this late at night!” I called back while motioning for everyone to follow me. “Come on! We need to report in and see if we can’t find out what happened and also if we’re needed anywhere!”

Sparing a brief glance towards Garr and the others as I spoke, I made sure that they’d all made it through the gate before I led our group through the busy streets at a jog. This was far from any sort of welcome that I had envisioned for them, and the last thing that I wanted to have happen was for them to get lost in the growing excitement around us. Fortunately, though, the gronn had all taken the unexpected excitement in stride, their wide eyes darting around curiously to take the town and activity in, but otherwise remaining calm.

Trusting that they would let me know if they ran into a problem, I focused my attention on getting us to the town hall, knowing that there’d be someone there able to tell us what was happening. But as we neared Aldford’s heart, so did the number of people and excitement around us continue to increase, causing us to slow our pace, lest we end up trampling those in our way. Confused as to what could possibly be causing a slowdown, even with all the people on the streets, I impatiently tried to look ahead, managing to catch a short glimpse of a large oncoming wagon being pulled by a pair of horses.

“What is that doing here—” I started to say as we were all forced to shift to the side of the street to allow the oversized vehicle a chance to pass. But as the crowd ahead of me parted ways, I found my voice suddenly catching as I saw what had been loaded onto the back of the wagon, my eyes landing on the singed and burnt shape of a ballista. “Damn! What happened to that?”

“I’ll give you three guesses, Lyr, but something tells me that you won’t need that many,” Halcyon replied from beside me in a grim tone, his hand appearing just past my vision to point ahead. “Look, there’s more of them coming.”

Turning to follow the man’s hand, it took me a second to see what he was talking about as I caught sight of several more wagons farther down the street, each of them heavily laden with either their own siege weapons or various crates of supplies.

“Shit,” I cursed as I twisted to look back at Halcyon, seeing his eyes shift to meet mine, understanding flowing between us. “We need to get to the town hall, now.”

Not wanting to wait for the street to clear as the procession of wagons continued to slow traffic, I led the group off the main road, ducking in between two buildings until we reached an adjacent laneway. Largely a remnant from Aldford’s younger days, the laneway was only wide enough to service basic foot traffic, and to my relief, it was empty enough for us to use it as a faster route through the town. Moving with a growing sense of urgency with every step I took, it didn’t take much longer from there for us to finally reach our destination, finding the square in front of the town hall packed nearly full of adventurers. Eyes widening as I rounded the corner, I only had a second to take in the sight before my attention was stolen away by a bright golden flash.

Followed immediately behind by another and another, the rapid flash of auric light caused everyone in the square to turn towards it.

Feeling my stomach completely drop out from beneath me as I saw what I knew to be the telltale flash of respawning adventurers, I forced myself through the crowd and towards its source, arriving in time to see a familiar face appear.

“Freya!” I exclaimed in a hushed tone as the blonde woman abruptly shimmered into existence barely an arm’s length away, prompting me to rush forward towards her just in time to offer a steady arm to catch as the effects of death sickness visibly washed over her.

“Lyrian, you’re back,” she breathed in an exhausted voice as she turned to look at me in surprise, fresh lines of corruption that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen her visible across her face. “I-I’m afraid we just lost Valor’s Point.”

Chapter 51

“We never had a chance of stopping them,” Freya announced in a tired voice from beside me as we stood at the head of the room, our eyes scanning over the assembled crowd of adventurers and townsfolk staring back at us, an aura of palpable exhaustion and nervousness emanating from them.

“I know that’s a cliché and even useless thing to say,” the woman continued a second after her first words faded from the air, her gaze continuing to wander from face to face as she spoke. “But for those of you who were there with me, you know it’s the simplest and most accurate truth I can offer. One minute the orcs were settling in for the night, then the next, they were all rushing towards us. And by all, I mean all. From what little I was able to catch as the battle began, they didn’t even leave a reserve behind. They all just…charged forward in a complete rage, unlike anything that we’ve faced so far before.”

A wave of muffled murmurs followed the woman’s words as she paused to allow everyone a chance to process what she’d said, and also for those in the crowd who had participated in the battle to share their own experiences with those around them.

It had been a long night since the fall of Valor’s Point, the hours since I’d first seen Freya and all of the other adventurers respawn in the town square filled with a flurry of activity and all-too-little sleep. Reacting first with shock and surprise at the loss of our base, our immediate concern afterward was to secure Aldford against the possibility of a follow-up attack. Manning the walls of the town’s now mostly finished palisade while we sent out a wave of scouts to find the enemy, we all found ourselves battling exhaustion as we waited for their report. Eventually, after staring into the night gloom for what felt like ages, our scouts finally returned, confirming that the orcs hadn’t pressed any further than claiming the now razed remains of Valor’s Point. Relieved that we wouldn’t have to fight, it was only then that we let ourselves finally relax, standing down from our alert and attempting to find what rest we could before the new day began.

Which as they often do after a crisis, began far too soon for our liking, leaving us bleary-eyed and exhausted as we tried to figure how to pick up the pieces that our defeat had left us with.

With one of the worst pieces being the fact that we’re all dead tired and are running on, at best, four hours of sleep, if not less, I thought as I looked out towards the assembled group of people staring back at us while trying to hide my own exhaustion. Comprised of the leaders from Aldford’s various factions, including Garr and his companions, the assembled group represented all of the major decision-makers in the town, which were eager to find out what happened earlier in the night.

At least those who already don’t know, I added as I scanned over both Aldwin and Veronia’s face standing on one side of the room, before continuing onwards into the crowd. Among the adventurers, it was easy for me to pick out those who had been there for the attack by the subtle symptoms of death sickness, the not-yet even eight hours since the attack leaving the effects of the debuff still active. Those so afflicted gazed up towards the front with glassy eyes as they tried to listen to Freya, a small portion of them having missed being online for the battle, logging on this morning to find the chaotic memories flooding into them.

“We did our best to hit them with everything that we had as they charged us, but nothing we did had any effect. They just kept coming, completely ignoring their losses as they smashed straight through our defenses and started to pour into the base, claiming the first two switchbacks in less than ten minutes,” I heard Freya continue once the chatter began to fade. “It was once they were threatening the third, without I might add, the help of their constructs or spirits, that I determined that the battle was lost and ordered the abandonment of the base. Because of this, we were able to save all the non-adventurers stationed at the base, along with all of our surviving ballista and supplies without turning it over to the orcs.”

There was a second pause as Freya fell silent once again. But this time instead of giving everyone a chance to catch up, it was her that needed a few seconds extra to find the words that she was looking for.

“This…success as many of you have already found out, came at a substantial price, unfortunately,” she said, finding her stride once more. “As of our current count, we have seventy-four adventurers with at least one lost soul fragment at Valor Point. Fragments that at the moment we are not likely to recover before they decay significantly, if not completely. This represents a fairly serious loss in both skill and ability among the afflicted adventurers that we are unfortunately going to have to absorb and find a way to overcome.

“That said, however,” Freya continued, “this loss is somewhat mitigated by the casualties that we managed to inflict on the orcs during their reckless attack, which were quite large. More so than any battle that we’ve fought with the orcs so far.”

Reacting on cue to her statement, it was at that point that the woman shared the battle summary with all of the assembled adventurers, giving those who hadn’t been there a glance at how the battle had gone. Despite having seen the summary myself earlier, I choose to pull it up along with all the others, skimming over it so I could keep pace with Freya’s report, knowing that my part was coming up all too soon.

Battle Summary War: The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew & Orc Tribes of Khudazal

Tuesday, April 23rd – The Second Battle for Valor’s Point

Outcome: Defeat

Allied Player Casualties: 101

Allied War Assets Destroyed: 5

Enemy Player Casualties: 16

Enemy Non-Player Casualties: 431

Enemy War Assets Lost: 8

“With the late arrival of both the corrupted spirits and the constructs to the battle, we estimate that the attack on Valor’s Point cost the orcs no less than three hundred and fifty orcs and goblins, in addition to a handful of spirits and constructs. A stunning number, all things considered,” Freya continued after giving the adventurers a chance to skim over the battle summary. “Enough so, that the invaders have chosen to dig in and settle into what’s left of Valor’s Point rather than immediately press forward towards Aldford. Based on our initial reports overnight and this morning, they are looking to stay put and lick their wounds, likely until their reinforcements start arriving from Khudazal, which as you all already know could potentially be substantial.”

Loud murmurs of agreement and worry rose up from amid the crowd, prompting Freya to hold a hand up to quiet them before they rose of control.

“I know that you all have questions about this, but if you wouldn’t mind to hold them until the end, we would appreciate it,” she said as the room quieted. “We do actually have some good news to offer here in this meeting, along with a few revelations that will more than likely change your perspective of this war entirely. For that though, I will leave it to Lyrian, who as you can all see, is now back among us.”

And that’s my cue there, I thought as stepped forward to take Freya’s place once she finished speaking, the woman taking a relieved step backward.

“Good morning,” I said, seeing everyone’s attention shift towards me eagerly, the few whispers that lingered throughout the meeting room falling abruptly silent. While we hadn’t kept our raid on Khudazal a strict secret from everyone, we also hadn’t made it an announcement either, only telling those who absolutely needed to know and letting the others focus on actively fighting the orcs. But with the popularity of the Dread Crew’s leaked feed that had prompted the whole thing, it hadn’t taken long for rumors to form once it was known that we’d gone somewhere.

Rumors that then grew like wildfire after we’d returned with Garr and the other gronn accompanying us.

“Now as I’m sure you are all aware, there have been quite a few rumors about just where exactly a few of us have been for the last couple days,” I said as I began my speech. “And I’m happy to confirm that those about us going off to raid Khudazal were correct. With how hard we’d been forced on the defensive, what we needed most was to try and find a way to hit the orcs where it would hurt them most. And despite what’s happened to Valor’s Point last night, I am happy to be able to stand here in front of you all and tell you that we did exactly that. In fact, we’re fairly certain it is because of our raid that the orcs attacked our base so savagely in retaliation.”

Hooking everyone with my opening words, I spent the next several minutes briefing everyone about the details of our raid on Khudazal as well as what we’d managed to learn from it. Starting first with our journey through the Hartwyld and continuing through until we blighted the gardens, I left little out, only omitting details for the sake of brevity. During that time, I also made a point to introduce Garr and the other gronn that had joined us, the group having been a consistent point of interest for the assembled crowd, their eyes darting over towards them and back every few minutes.

“So, based on what we’ve learned from our raid, we now know that the orcs are involved in a sprawling three front war spread across the greater region—one that until yesterday morning they’ve been steadily winning,” I said at one point as I began to wind my explanation down. “But with our success in both managing to free the slaves that they’d captured as well as destroy a substantial portion of their food production, we’ve finally managed to turn the tables on them. This advantage won’t last forever, though, so we’re going to have to work fast to make the most of it, which as I’m sure you all know by now is code for ‘I hope you all got enough sleep last night’.”

I paused for a bit to allow a polite wave of chuckles and grumbles to wash over the room, the earlier nervousness and anxiety that we’d started off our meeting with having faded somewhat. In its place was now a tired stoicism as everyone prepared themselves for what I had to say next.

“So, with that said, we have two goals for the day today. The first of them is to figure out just where exactly we stand after last night,” I eventually continued once the voices died down and everyone was listening again. “Because with the loss of Valor’s Point, we’ve also lost our vantage point to oversee the plains, effectively allowing the orcs to move across it without our knowing. This is something that we can’t allow, at least not until we can confirm if the orc reinforcements that we saw at Khudazal are truly heading towards us, or if they’ve been sent somewhere else.

“Or, if by some stroke of luck, they have been recalled back to Khudazal to deal with the chaos we left there,” I added, despite not really considering that to be a likely outcome. With how badly we’d managed to bloody the orcs’ noses at Khudazal, I expected them to press forward towards us out of the desire for revenge if nothing else.

Which hopefully we can somehow use to our advantage if they do, I thought hopefully before continuing to speak.

“Whatever the case, however, figuring out what we’re dealing with on the orc front will be key on how we proceed forward in terms of grand strategy,” I said while looking over the crowd. “Because until we know for certain when or if the orc reinforcements are coming, especially if they are armed with that massive construct we saw in the feed, we can’t afford to risk trying to retake Valor’s Point. The last thing that we want to do is to risk a total wipe, then we’ll have even more of our adventurers’ soul fragments trapped behind enemy lines. Or even worse, risk having some of them captured.

“Now to that end, what we will be looking to do is to send a handful of volunteers through the Hartwyld along with one of our new gronn allies,” I went onto explain, giving the assembled adventurers an overview of the druidic Presence of Nature ability and how it had helped us in our return trip from Khudazal. “It will then be this team’s job to find the orc reinforcements—if they are still coming—while remaining undetected for as long as possible. They will become our eyes and ears on the plains going forward.

“While this team is collecting the intelligence that we need on the plains, the bulk of our forces are going to focus on Valor’s Point. Which is to say that we’re going to make sure that the orcs don’t have a chance to do anything more than try and hold the place until help arrives. The details of how to best do this will, as always, be up to our field commanders. However, this time we will be working under a scorched earth policy. That is to say that those commanders will now have free rein on how best to deny the orcs the use and access to the Greenwood, Webwood, Hartwyld, and anything else in between.”

The room abruptly fell into a deep silence as I finished speaking, what little chatter that there’d been fading away in light of my statement. Up until this point, even with all the fighting that we’d endured, there had been a few hard limits to our rules of engagement, one of them, in particular, being not to purposefully damage our neighboring forests any more than absolutely necessary. Together they represented an incredible wealth of resources for the area and had been instrumental in Aldford’s growth over the last few weeks.

An incredible wealth of resources that I’d just authorized to be burnt to ash, so the orcs wouldn’t be able to use them against us.

“I know that some of you think that this might be an extreme measure to take,” I said, breaking the stillness that had fallen over the room. “But it is one that we believe is critical if we are to truly take advantage of our attack on Khudazal. By denying the orcs the chance to live off the land in any meaningful fashion, we hope to exacerbate their logistical troubles, especially when it comes to food. Because as I’m sure you’ve all heard countless times before, an army marches on its stomach, and an army of orcs is going to have a particularly large stomach to fill.”

There was a mixed rumble of both assent and concern from the crowd as they all began to murmur in response to my statement.

“However, with that said, the orcs aren’t the only ones who will be facing logistical issues in the coming days,” I said, pressing onwards before the growing noise could get out of control, my eye landing on a particular group of adventurers standing all together on one side of the room. “Because as you are all aware by now, we have our own reinforcements coming, some of whom have already arrived, which brings us to our second goal for the day: to figure out how exactly to prepare for them given our current situation, assuming that we are even able to do so at all.

“This is particularly important because while the arrival of more people can only help in our war against the orcs, the sheer amount of them that are making their way towards us is overwhelmingly more than anything we ever expected to deal with. We are still trying to get a sense of exactly how many new arrivals we might be dealing with, but at the moment, we are expecting at least a thousand. That number likely to only increase upwards from there as we get better information of what’s coming.

“As many of you have no doubt already realized, this is already more than we could ever possibly hope to even fit behind Aldford’s walls should the orcs manage to push forward from Valor’s Point,” I went on to say, after seeing several eyes widen from among the adventurers in the room. “Especially since only a portion of these new arrivals will be combat-capable—the remainder being refugees and other folk that have been displaced due to the guild wars now consuming Coldscar. The last thing that we want to do is make them easy targets for the orcs to either kill or capture by settling them directly outside of Aldford, which means we will need to find another place to do so. Somewhere preferably that the orcs will not be easily able to find or get to should we find ourselves besieged and unable to help them directly.

“Fortunately, though,” I said as I began to finally wind my long speech down. “We still have a couple days to figure this out before they all arrive. During that time, myself and others will be reaching out to a few of you here to help figure out how we can best coordinate this and what our options are going forward. In addition too, with all of the new adventurers coming, we as a town will be counting on your collective leadership to ensure that few to no issues arise as they get settled to our way of doing things out here. We already have one imposing enemy bearing down on us from the outside, and the last thing we need right now are internal problems to divide our focus.”

With those last words echoing through the air, I allowed myself a short pause to take a breath and look over the crowd, which was noticeably more alert now than it had been at the start of our meeting.

“I know that this has been a lot to take in all once,” I said, while mentally bracing myself for what was about to come. “Which is why, as Freya mentioned earlier, we’ve set some time aside to go over some of the details that we’ve both just outlined before we all need to get on with our day.

“So, with all of that said, are there any questions?”

Chapter 52

“Well, that lasted longer than I’d hoped, but it wasn’t so bad in the end,” I said to Freya with a weary sigh as I watched the last of the adventurers and townsfolk leave the meeting room. “It seems like everyone is confident and onboard about what we’re doing next.”

“Only because of both your words,” Aldwin said with a shake of his head as he and Veronia moved to join us, Garr and the other gronn following a step behind them. “There are not many leaders who can stand in front of their supporters after a defeat and not only rally them so drastically, but to practically convince them that the loss of Valor’s Point was actually to our benefit.”

“You’re too kind there, Fredric,” Freya said with a snort, shaking her head at the man’s statement as everyone arrived, forming a loose circle around us. “We were just trying to make sure that everyone doesn’t panic. Though…at the same time, not having to worry about manning and supplying the base does allow us to be more flexible than we have been in the past. I just wish it didn’t come at the price that it did.”

“Nor do any of us,” Garr replied, the tone of his voice indicating that he knew exactly what the woman had meant. “But nature will recover—it always has and always will. And from where I stand as well, it is far better for us to deny the orcs the land’s bounty on our terms than to see it fed into their war machine and used against us. That path only leads to more suffering. Both for nature and for those in the orcs’ path.”

“That it certainly does,” Veronia agreed wistfully, our conversation changing topics as Cassius picked that moment to join us, the Hallowguarde guildmaster arriving with an extremely tall and muscular white-furred Tul’Shar trailing half a step behind him.

“That was a good speech, you two,” he said by way of greeting. “I think it struck the chord we were looking for. Everyone leaving seems to be excited for the next round to start already.”

“Hopefully not too soon,” I replied with a shake of my head, feeling the exhaustion still hanging on me all too well. “We could still use some time to catch our breaths.”

“And hopefully we’ll get it,” Cassius said wholeheartedly, his head moving to indicate the adventurer that had followed him. “Anyway, though, I’ve found the unfortunate soul here that’s been nominated to speak for the newcomers and figured to introduce him to you all before we head out. His name is Riggs.”

“Nice to meet you then, Riggs,” I said in greeting as I shifted my attention over towards the Tul’Shar, finding myself needing to crane my head upwards to meet his eye. Standing at what had to be at least seven feet in height, the dark-armored feline warrior was easily a match for both Drace and Abaddon in size and build. Though where those other two adventurers carried a more defensive bearing, Riggs appeared the complete opposite, the two large swords strapped to his back signaling his more aggressive focus.

“Likewise,” the large Tul’Shar replied as he scanned through our group, his voice bearing the soft hint of a southern accent as he spoke. “And good mornin’, y’all.”

“And the same to you,” Freya answered back as she turned to look over at the massive adventurer, raising an eyebrow as she did so. “So, what did you end up doing in order to get stuck representing all of the new arrivals? Last time I checked, you were all having a hard time picking someone to speak for you all.”

“Um, yeah. That we were, I suppose,” Riggs said, a small frown crossing his face before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “And uh, I got picked because I asked too many questions. Good questions apparently. So they told me that I could be responsible for figuring them all out with you people.”

“Ah, yeah, that’ll get you in trouble every time,” I said as a handful of chuckles passed throughout our group. “In either case, though, we’re happy to have you on board. Hopefully, we can get the details sorted out for the newcomers fast enough, then turn our worrying back to the orcs.”

“Well, anything I can do to help with that, I will,” Riggs affirmed. “Though I’ll admit, I’m pretty partial to getting back into the fight as soon as possible after what happened last night.”

“Oh, something tells me we’ll be having plenty of opportunity for that,” Cassius said, sharing the feline warrior’s eager tone as he turned his attention towards Freya and me. “Anyway, though, I wanted to let you all know that I’ll be poaching a handful of scouts and horses for the next couple days. I’m going to be sending them out along with Kilgore and Berwyn to make contact with the main body of the reinforcements. From what the newcomers have said so far, I peg them at roughly sixty or so miles away, so barring any surprises, they should be able to reach them sometime in the afternoon or so. Then, hopefully, from there we can figure out what exactly we’re working with.”

“That sounds great,” I replied with a nod, silently hoping that there weren’t any unexpected complications waiting for us on that front. With how many people that were set to arrive over the next couple days, the sooner that we could get an understanding of their various skills, abilities, and needs the better. It would help us sort out where best to send them, be it either to Aldford directly, the growing farmland to the west of the town, or what was most likely to happen, a temporary settlement somewhere the orcs weren’t likely to find. “Hopefully, they’ll all be understanding enough and willing to follow directions as we sort things out on our end.”

“Hopefully,” Cassius echoed, matching my nod with one of his own, but then immediately following it up with a shrug. “In either case, though, Berwyn and Kilgore will make sure to knock heads together if that’s what it takes to get everyone moving. Same with the other two you’ve sent with us, Natasha and Bax.”

“Honestly, I don’t think you all will have many problems getting people to do what’d best for them,” Riggs offered in a confident voice. “Those who have made it this far have no illusions about what they’re all walkin’ into here. I know it may not be so polite to say, but the words ‘out of the frying pan and into the fire’ have been bounded around a fair bit since we left Coldscar, but in an eager way. Everyone that’s coming knows full well that there’s a horde of orcs waiting for them at the end of the journey, and they are all excited to have the opportunity to cut their teeth on them.”

“If they are arriving with as much enthusiasm as you say, then they are more than free to say whatever they like about the region here,” Veronia replied with an amiable snort. “We will certainly not turn away anyone willing to contribute in whatever way they can.”

“That makes me glad to hear, and as a whole, I don’t think we’ll let you down,” Riggs said, inclining his head towards the woman as he spoke. “At least not until long after all these orcs are dead and rotting. Then I’m afraid that there’s a chance people will start to get bored and troublesome, assuming that such a thing as boredom ever happens around here.”

“It certainly hasn’t yet,” I replied, unable to help but grin at the thought. “But hey, you never know, we might actually be due a change of pace one of these days and manage to last longer than a week without a new catastrophe rearing its ugly head.”

“From your mouth to the gods’ ears,” Aldwin said wistfully. “I would certainly not turn down a long respite after how recent weeks have been. Especially if we are to have a huge host of new arrivals joining us.”

“I don’t think any of us here would,” I replied, the bone-deep exhaustion that had been smothering me all morning choosing that opportunity to flare up and remind me once again just how tired I was.

“Definitely not,” Cassius agreed, the man taking that opportunity to signal towards the exit with his head. “But for that all to happen, we’re going to have to sort out these pesky orcs that are set about ruining our home, which is where Riggs and I will be heading out as soon as we’re done here. I’m going to taking a good chunk of his people along with mine, and we’re going to give them a bit of a crash course on how we do things around here. That way we can hopefully slot them into our plans without too much trouble going forward.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Freya replied graciously, despite doing her best to hide an untimely yawn. “And I hope to be up there soon as I can, later this afternoon. But with how long I’ve been up, I absolutely need to get some sleep before I can do anything else. I barely made it through this meeting as it was.”

“That sounds good, but at the same time, feel free to rest however long you need,” Cassius answered. “We don’t need you burning out, and that goes the same for you too, Lyr. I know full well what kind of pace we set over the last few days.”

“Don’t worry. Getting some sleep is pretty high on my list, too,” I replied to the man while indicating to Garr and the other gronn as I spoke. “We’re due to check in with Halcyon and the other mages after we’re done here, then soon as that’s done, I’m crashing for a few hours too.”

“Perfect,” the man replied, both him and Riggs then stepping away from our group. “In that case, we’re out. See you all later tonight.”

“Take care and good luck,” Aldwin called after the adventurers, the man also deciding to take their departure as a cue to get moving on with the rest his day. “And Veronia and I should be on our way as well. We have a long ride ahead of us through the western farmlands to inform the settlers of our plans, and also to ensure that they are ready to move should the need arise.”

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Freya said with a shake of her head. “But if we’re going to run into any problems way out there, it’s good to do it while we still have time to fix them.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the bann agreed, his attention turning over towards Garr. “I am sorry again that this is the welcome that you and your companions must endure immediately after arriving at our home. It seems that we are destined to be moving in opposite directions for a while yet.”

“But not towards opposite goals,” the gronn replied in an understanding tone, waving away the knight’s concern. “The needs of war are demanding, and we are all more than happy to contribute in any way that we can. We can worry about such things when our enemy has been defeated and we can finally breathe in peace.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Aldwin said graciously, inclining his head towards the gronn. “Though in the meantime if there is anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“We certainly will if need be,” Garr replied, returning the gesture. “Thank you.”

Bidding one another farewell, our meeting effectively came to an end as we all filed out of the meeting room and split off our separate ways, with Aldwin and Veronia going off to the stables and Freya towards our guild house.

“Okay, time for sleep,” Freya announced tiredly as she left us. “Don’t be too long, Lyr, you need your rest too.”

“I shouldn’t be,” I promised as I waved goodbye to the woman, going on to shift my attention towards Garr and the other gronn once she’d left. “Speaking of sleep, though, are you sure you’re all okay to jump straight into work? If you want a chance to catch a nap, no one here will begrudge you.”

“Thank you, Lyrian, but we are more than rested enough to contribute,” Garr replied with a shake of his head, his voice growing eager as he continued to speak. “And I do not think that any of us would be able to lay our heads down a second time without having a chance to look closer at the tree. We are eager to learn everything that we can about it. It is truly a marvel of nature and magic.”

“That it definitely is,” I said with a smile before motioning for the group to follow me. “Let’s get you over to our workshop where the others are. They should be able to answer your questions and give you the space you need to work. I’m sure too that they’ll want to pick your brains about the corruption and the spirits.”

“And we will do all we can to help,” Garr affirmed as we began to move, his eyes gravitating upwards to the ætherwarped tree branches high above us the second we stepped outside. “There is much that we tried—and failed—to understand about the corruption during our war, both because of demands of the fighting, but also because my people do not gravitate towards magic the same as yours do. Those who are so gifted, such as us, tend to follow either the path of nature or the path of spirits. It is only the rare lorekeeper that ever delved into the arcane arts.”

“And we are about the opposite here among my people,” I said, parsing his wording as the gronn favoring either the druid or shaman classes. “Almost all of us favor the arcane, with only a handful of others choosing anything else.”

“Then perhaps we will each have a special insight to share with one another and unravel the true nature of the corruption,” Garr replied in an optimistic tone. “Perhaps even we will find a way to finally destroy it.”

“That would be ideal,” I agreed, our conversation turning into small talk as we cut through an already busy Aldford, everyone having long since woken from our exciting night and begun with the day. Along the way, I made sure to point out all the various points of interest to the gronn so that they could better navigate it themselves should they need to. But with us already being near the heart of the town, it didn’t take us long to reach the arcane laboratory, our arrival to the place being pre-empted by a sudden mental voice invading our thoughts.

<Alert! Monitoring module has been disconnected from network! Alert! Monitoring module cannot connect to display system! Alert! Monitoring module cannot connect to detection apparatus!> the voice intoned desperately before going on to repeat itself.

“By the spirits, what is that?” Garr exclaimed, both him and his companions flinching at the mental intrusion.

“One of the artifacts that we recovered from the ruin underground,” I replied with a slight frown crossing my face, recognizing the source as belonging to the Nafarrian security system that had been in the place. “Though why it’s suddenly upset and shouting is beyond me. I thought Halcyon had managed to turn it off. Come on, let’s go take a look at what’s going on.”

Continuing a bit farther, it didn’t take us long to finally reach the arcane laboratory, the alarm cycling once again through our minds along the way. Feeling a little worried at what we were about to walk into, I did my best to brace myself, wondering if I was about to lose my opportunity to get some sleep.

And of course, when we finally arrived, I was far from disappointed by the vision that abruptly appeared before me.

“Huh,” I grunted, all of us stopping as the lab came into view, each of us needing a few seconds to take in exactly what we were seeing.

Spread out in a loose cluster directly outside of the ramshackle cabin that was our magic lab, we spotted our core group of spellcasters, which consisted of both Caius and Halcyon as well as Stanton and Donovan. But instead of finding them engaged in some sort experiment or research, we instead arrived to find both Halcyon and Donovan standing on two separate wooden chairs in the yard in front of the lab, the pair armed with a broom and a rake, respectively. Holding the tools high over their heads, the two mages were attempting to reach a brightly glowing metallic ball hovering in the air above them, the object moving to evade their clumsy attempts to catch it each time they came close. But yet, that initial snapshot only described where my eyes landed first, a familiar flash of azure fur dragging them down to see that Amaranth was also present on the scene, his attention fixated on the orb above.

Which apparently, judging by the panicked look on Caius’s face, desperately trying to run interference on the cat, was a bad thing.

Darting from side to side in an attempt to get around the shouting warlock, it only took a second for me to realize what Amaranth’s intentions with the floating orb were, which I knew would be less than gentle. Fortunately, though, Caius’s efforts seemed to be enough to keep the cat at bay, for the time being, my familiar clearly not yet interested enough to simply bowl the dark elf over and pounce at the flying sphere. It was thanks to his efforts then, that I was able to shift my gaze once more, this time landing on Stanton, or rather just his head as he gazed outward from a brand-new basketball-sized hole in the side of the cabin. Judging by the shocked and confused expression that I saw on his face as he stared up at Halcyon and Donovan’s efforts, I was able to quickly put together the broad strokes of what had happened, if not the reason why.

Breathing a sigh as I finished inspecting the scene, I turned my head towards Garr and the other gronn, seeing each of their wide-eyed expressions as they continued to stare onwards. Only taking a few seconds to sense my gaze, Garr eventually managed to pull his attention away from the chaos, his eyes looking to me in askance.

Shaking my head at the implied question, I couldn’t help but grin back at him as I motioned for him to follow me into the chaos ahead.

“I guess it looks like it’s going to be an interesting first day for you today.”

Chapter 53

I entered the crafting hall with a spring in my step, pausing to take a deep breath and inhale the mixed scent of sawdust and wood that permeated the air. Resuming my pace from there, I strode deeper into the building, following the sweet aroma of labor to its source. For the first time in what felt like ages, my mind and body both finally felt like they were well-rested and not simply propped up through the combined mixture of coffee, sugar, and willpower. Of course, the nap that I had just awoken from played a large part in that feeling, the four dreamless hours that I’d managed to snatch rejuvenating me better than anything I’d expected. But over and above the desperately needed sleep, I felt that the biggest reason for my good mood and energy was because I was finally home, especially after the last few days of frantic travel through the Hartwyld.

And now instead of having to worry about said frantic traveling, I can worry instead about frantic crafting, I thought with a slight grin as I headed deeper into the building, my path taking me towards the carpentry workshop. Which, all things considered, is definitely much less stressful than worrying about getting eaten by a hungry creature or surprised by an orc.

With the sound of industry continuing to build with every step that I took, it didn’t take me long to reach the workshop, finding it as busy and noisy as ever. Striding into the place without slowing my pace, I let the cacophony wash over me as I entered into the room, finding it packed to the brim with crafters, each of them working on a variety of projects. On one side of me, I saw three separate groups of adventurers efficiently assembling a row of ballistae, the crafters seamlessly interchanging with one another between projects as they were needed. On the other, my eye landed on those working to supply the parts the various groups needed, a sharp-eyed foreman calling out to them on what was needed where.

Moving carefully as not to disrupt their flow, I navigated a path through their section and proceeded onto the next, finding myself among another set of industrious crafters. These, I saw, were all working on a variety of smaller projects, churning out a collection of what I knew would be much-needed equipment once our reinforcements arrived. Ranging from items such as spare tools and replacement parts to larger ones such as tent poles, chairs, and tables, they were busily crafting everything that could be possibly needed by a new crop of settlers.

Especially when a good portion of those settlers are going to be arriving with only the clothes on their back and whatever else they were lucky enough to grab on the way out, I thought while passing through the second section, slowing to wave at the few crafters that looked up from their work as I went by. Hopefully, in the next day or so we’ll be able to get a good accounting of what exactly they need the most. That way we won’t end up burning effort and supplies on stuff they won’t end up needing.

Making a mental note to follow up with that train of thought later once I had a chance to hear Kilgore and Berwyn’s report, I pressed even farther into the workshop, finally spotting the man I’d come looking for. Standing in a group with four of his apprentices, I arrived just in time to hear Léandre in his trademark form as he collectively gave them a running series of tasks to sort out.

“…will need at least forty of those brackets if we are to meet our demand for the next few days, as well as have a few spares,” he said thoughtfully as he looked down at a length of paper in his hand, simultaneously speaking to each and yet no apprentice in particular at the same time. “Beyond that, we will need two—eh, perhaps better three score spare parts for our current crop of ballistae just in case they suffer battle damage. I would rather have parts sitting idle than not have them at all. In addition, we will also need sixteen standard lengths of iron cabling, six hundred feet of rope, and at least two hundred burlap sheets, but if any of you can get me double that, I will sing your praises to all who listen.”

The craftsman looked up from his paper as he finished speaking, scanning between the assembled group of men and women, a single eyebrow rising upwards. “Are there any questions?”

Receiving an immediate chorus of grunts or shaking heads in response, Léandre bobbed his head once in approval, giving the group a toothy smile as he did so. “Excellent. Then I bid you all good luck with your respective battles. Come find myself or Lyrian should you find yourself in need of more work.”

Tasks assigned, the apprentices then all promptly scattered without so much as a word in departure, each of them moving to head in a different direction. As they did, Léandre calmly folded up the paper he’d been holding and slid it into a pocket, his attention turning towards me.

“Good, you actually look rested for once,” he said by way of greeting, his head cocking itself to the side as he continued to speak. “Now tell me, what is this I heard about some sort of magic orb destroying our mages’ lair? I was told there was an…incident of some sort, but none have been able to explain what exactly happened. Only that I must now find the time and the space to build them a new workshop.”

“Oh, geez,” I replied, unable to help but laugh and shake my head at the craftsman’s question. “I was there, and I still have trouble piecing together everything that had happened.”

“Was it truly that bad?” Léandre asked, his curiously growing quickly at my words. “Perhaps I should be thankful there wasn’t a fire to deal with.”

“Oh, there was,” I said as I thought back to the rapid sequence of events that had followed Garr’s and my arrival at the arcane lab. “But thankfully it was put it out before it could spread.”

“You…are serious, aren’t you?” Léandre queried back, his eyes focusing intently on mine in an attempt to determine if I were joking.

“Unfortunately, yes,” I replied before going on to signal for us to start walking, knowing full well that the man had already mapped an agenda for our afternoon. “Come on. I’ll tell you about it on the way to whatever’s first on our list.”

“That would be to the warehouse to check stock,” the man said, the both of us turning to head out of the carpentry workshop and through a set of doors that led into the massive storage room that dominated the rear of the crafting hall.

“…so, before I could do anything, Halcyon and Donovan both took a swipe at the thing, causing it to dodge downward to avoid them both,” I explained as we walked, pausing just long enough at one point to allow a pair of carpenters to wheel a cart stacked with lumber past us. “Which was about the worst thing that could have happened because that distracted Caius enough for Amaranth to finally get around him and leap at the orb. But, of course, as soon as the cat did that, the thing took off again, this time hitting Halcyon in the chest and knocking him off the chair as it tried to escape.”

“Oof, that must have left a mark if it was capable of breaking the cabin,” Léandre commented, visibly wincing at that mental picture.

“Oh, it did,” I assured as the cart finished passing by us, allowing us to resume our journey. “After that though, Amaranth gave up playing the easy game and simply used Blink Strike to catch it, which he immediately did. The only problem was that he caught it while the orb was flying directly over the lab.”

“Over?” he queried, his face glancing over at me at first in confusion which promptly morphed into sudden realization. “Oh. I think I see. The lab had a thatched roof, did it not?”

“It did,” I replied, still remembering Amaranth’s shocked expression and mental cry when it had given way under him after his landing. “And it had no chance of standing up to an eight-hundred-plus pound puma in full armor landing on it.”

“No, that it would certainly not,” Léandre agreed with a shake of his head. “Then I’m to assume that the thatching is what caught fire?”

“You are, yeah,” I answered with a nod. “He broke a lamp on landing, which thankfully, Stanton, who was still in the building at the time, managed to quickly put out.”

“Lucky for us then. To lose all those notes and artifacts…” he said with yet another shake of his head. “And what of this orb after all this chaos?”

“Oh, it was turned off easily and put in a locked box it shouldn’t be able to escape from. Or we hope so, at least,” I replied, remembering the mages explanation about how the whole disaster had even started. “Apparently, Halcyon was trying to tinker with it after bringing it up from the ruin but accidentally reactivated it and set it into some sort of mode, which—don’t ask me why—includes evasive flying for some reason.”

“So I see,” Léandre replied, completely at a loss for other words. “Well, I suppose it is a good thing we’ve finished building the palisade. At least now I have workers available to me for other projects. Perhaps we can rebuild the place somewhere far away from where it would cause harm if something should go wrong like we have with the foundry.”

“That’s probably for the best,” I agreed, having considered the exact same thing. “Is there anywhere reasonably close to the crafting hall that we can put it? I’m not sure if you ever had a chance to see the lab in person, but space was at a premium.”

“As it is everywhere in the town now,” the architect mused in a dry tone as he turned to glance at me. “And that is before we try to find room for a thousand more souls. I may be good, exceptional even, at my craft, but I am afraid I have yet to find a way to create more space where there is none to be had.”

“That’s what I figured,” I replied with a nod. “What are our options?”

“For which problem?” Léandre queried, an eyebrow raising as he posed the question. “For the mages, our simplest solution is to carve a piece of this warehouse off for them. It will be temporary and ill-suited, but that is simply the best we can manage until you all can convince these orcs to leave us be.

“As for the settlers,” he continued. “We do what every settlement has done when it has reached its limit. We sprawl. Likely westward and south on the far side of the river. There is much land there that has been completely untouched and is unsuited for farming. The water too gives us a natural barrier to work with which will aid our growth. It should last us for a long while until we are forced to sprawl again.”

Léandre paused for a moment to let out a sigh, his tone changing as he resumed speaking. “Of course, though, much like the other case, this depends all on the orcs that hound us. It would not do to burn effort building anything outside the walls if there is risk that they would be torn down in mere days.”

“Absolutely not,” I agreed as we finally came to a stop, having reached our destination inside the warehouse, which was just before a large row of meticulously organized crates, larger storage boxes, and a variety of burlap sacks. “Which is why I was thinking to settle them farther away from Aldford, if at least for the time being. Do you remember the lake to the south of us? I was looking over a few maps before I came over here, and I think that might be a decent enough spot to put the non-combatants for a while. Especially if we don’t want them to fall prey to the orcs.”

“I only recall it vaguely,” Léandre replied, a hand coming up to scratch his chin in thought. “Wasn’t it filled full of those wolverine creatures on the plains beside it?”

“It used to be,” I said with a nod. “But those have been thinned out for the most part by all the adventurers here. Same with the creatures in the forest nearby. I figure between the fish in the lake, the animals that remain, and the forest itself, they’d have enough resources to be reasonably self-sufficient. Long enough for us to win or lose against the orcs at least.”

“Hrm, then perhaps that would work well indeed,” Léandre said, his head slowly bobbing up and down in thought as he looked over all of the supplies in front of us. “We will lean once again on tents to give them the shelter they need, and I have already ordered more tools and other supplies to allow them to make whatever else they lack. Though I understand they are coming with their own wagons and mounts, yes? They will not be completely dependent on us if they’ve made it this far.”

“Far as I know, they shouldn’t be,” I replied. “But I’m waiting for a report from the people we’ve sent to meet them to be sure. We should, hopefully, get a sense of what their needs are within the next day or so.”

“Good, though the sooner the better,” the craftsman answered as he motioned for me to follow him into the row of supplies. “Because we only have so much available to us to spare, and what we do have must suit our needs first. Else we will not be prepared properly for when the orcs come calling on us.”

Léandre paused to look over at me once again in question.

“Actually, this is a good time to ask. Do we know yet if they are still coming to call on us at all? Or have your efforts caused their horde to turn around?”

“It’s still too early to know,” I replied with a shake of my head. “We sent scouts out earlier this morning, and they’re likely still traveling. Hopefully, we’ll get word of what the orcs are doing either late tonight or tomorrow morning.

“If you were to ask me though,” I continued, but in a softer tone, “I’d bet they’re still coming. Slower maybe than they originally planned. But I’d be surprised if they’ve turned around. We bloodied their noses hard on our raid, and everything that I know about orcs tells me that they’ll be wanting revenge. Over and above what they did to Valor’s Point.”

“That is what I thought as well,” Léandre replied, his expression narrowing somewhat as he spoke. “Which means that a siege is likely in our future. For I cannot see how else we would be able to meet such a force on open terms. Not without even more adventurers than those promised to arrive.”

“I’m thinking the same too,” I said, coming to a stop as Léandre spotted the crate he’d been looking for, waving for me to grab hold of the rope handle on its end while he took hold of the other. “We’ll need to make our stand here and hope that we can break them before they break us.”

“Then it is a good thing that I have been blessed with a handful of ideas that I hope will make our efforts easier,” he replied as we lifted the large wooden crate, its contents rustling loudly within. “Come, help me take this back to my workshop. I have a design that I must show you, and a handful of other ideas that would value your thoughts on as well.”

“Oh? What sort of ideas?” I asked, suddenly curious as to what could possibly be in the crate we were carrying. With how much the war had consumed me over the last few weeks and with how much flux there typically was in the warehouse, I had little idea of what resources and supplies we even had, let alone what was stored where.

“Ones that may hopefully allow us to finally crack the mystery of forging æthertouched iron,” he explained. “And another that I hope will give us the ability to put fear into the hearts of the orcs when they see it.”

“Well, that certainly sounds promising!” I replied, my curiosity only growing at the man’s statement.

“I certainly hope so,” Léandre said, flashing me a wry smile as we maneuvered the crate out from its spot from among the others around it and began the process of carrying it to his workshop.

Fortunately, though, the place wasn’t too far away from the warehouse, the journey taking us a few minutes before we finally arrived, the two of us passing the time by outlining all the other various tasks that we had to attend to.

“Good, we are here,” the architect said with evident relief, sounding a little winded from both talking and carrying his half of the crate at the same time. “We can place the box in the corner for the time being. Depending on how our planning goes, we won’t need it until tomorrow, but I would rather have it on hand early so we don’t need to hunt for it later.”

“If you say so,” I replied as we set the container down and slid it out of the way, my curiosity finally getting the better of me. “What exactly is in here, anyway? It’s heavy.”

“It is everything that we could conceivably need to make this,” Léandre answered as he dusted off his hands, then waved me over towards his desk, which was currently occupied by a large drafting board. “Or perhaps most of everything, there are a few things still missing that we would need in order to finish it.”

“And what exactly is this?” I said, more to myself than to Léandre as my eyes landed on the drawing currently pinned to the board, recognizing it vaguely as a ballista, but one unlike any that we’d crafted before.

“My masterpiece,” he replied, letting me go first as we reached the desk. “And perhaps yours too, if your skills are sufficient enough by the time we attempt this.”

“Your ‘masterpiece’?” I repeated, taking my eyes off the design to look back at the man, at first confused by what he was saying. But no sooner were the words out of my mouth, did I suddenly realize what he meant, my attention snapping back towards the design with wide eyes. “You mean so you can break into level thirty in blacksmithing and carpentry and enter the next tier of crafting.”

“So I do,” Léandre replied with a nod as he indicated the design. “And I believe that this should serve enough to propel the both of us through that barrier and beyond with a single craft. I’m not sure where you might be in your skills, but the difficulty for creating a ‘mastercraft’ quality item that is also level twenty-nine is rather high, even more so than it has already been the last few levels. I believe it is intended to be quite the trial for any aspiring crafter.”

“As we figured it would be,” I said as I turned to inspect the design, the two of us having spoken often about the final crafting challenge that awaited us after reaching level twenty-nine in a tradeskill.

Following a similar route as the adventuring progression with regards to gaining an advanced class, reaching level twenty-nine in a particular craft was then followed by a crafting challenge in order to be able to continue onwards to level thirty. The challenge was to create a single item of “mastercraft” quality with an item level of twenty-nine, after which the crafter would automatically progress straight to level thirty and enter the journeyman tier of a tradeskill.

Unfortunately, though, one of the things that we’d noticed the closer that we approached the end of our current tradeskill tier was that it became much more difficult to achieve a high item quality in the things we crafted. Becoming especially noticeable after passing the early twenties in a trade, the difficultly in successfully crafting a mastercraft quality item at an equal level went up drastically. The only option that we found was to be substantially over-leveled tradeskill wise with regards to the item level of what was being crafted. In my case, it had only been because of those levels during my last round of equipment upgrades that I’d been able to even hit the “good” item quality level while crafting my armor, anything higher being far out of reach. The only exception to that difficulty spike had been my upgrading of Splinter, which thanks to previous mastercraft status had managed to stay at the same quality level—though whether that had been just because of skill or luck was anyone’s guess.

“Indeed,” Léandre agreed as he allowed me several seconds to scan over his design. “But with enough preparation and planning, any trial can be overcome, which is what I have begun to lay the groundwork for here. We would use our finest materials, our best tools, ensure that our bodies and minds are rested before we tackle the task—and every other thing that we can think of to give us the edge we need to be prepared. If we should fail after all that, it wouldn’t be for a lack of trying.”

“No, that it certainly wouldn’t,” I replied as I continued looking over the design, my eye shifting towards several notes that Léandre had left in the margins. “But I think I see now why you mentioned that you had an idea with the iron. We would need to figure out how to properly forge it before we could ever think to attempt building this thing.”

“So we would,” Léandre agreed as he moved to reach for another sheet of paper, grabbing and handing it over to me. “Which is why I have come up with a list of theories we are to test and see if they give us any insight of how to forge the metal.”

“A whole list, eh?” I replied as I took a look at the sheet and scanned over it, finding several suggestions and ideas that I would have never even thought of. “Huh, these are really good. How did you even come up with some of these?”

“By turning them over and over in my head for the past few weeks while you were all fighting,” Léandre replied with a grin. “As well as speaking with our mages. Donovan in particular. He may not have understood all the questions I asked him, but his insight into how æther works was invaluable to my process.”

“I can imagine,” I said, feeling more and more excited as read over the ideas on the paper and glanced at Léandre’s ballista concept.

If we can get this to work… I said to myself, the thought trailing away as I began to imagine the possibilities, so much so that I lost track of how long I alternated between the ideas in my hand and the design on the drafting board. Eventually, after a polite cough brought the world back into focus, I turned my back head back to Léandre who met my eyes expectantly.

“So?” he asked, clearly eager to hear my thoughts. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s amazing,” I replied, no better answer coming to my mind as I stared back at him, feeling my heart began to race in my chest. “Where do we start?”

Chapter 54

Wednesday, April 24th, 2047 – 6:45 a.m.

Aldford – The Foundry

“Shit! Jenkins! Try to hold it still!” I heard Léandre cry out in a panic from somewhere below me and out of sight. “I can’t catch it when it’s moving around so fast!”

“What do you think I’m trying to do?” Jenkins’s voice responded angrily as a loud crash filled the air. “It doesn’t want to be—ah! Damn it! It bit me!”

“Hey, are you guys doing okay down there?” I called out weakly, struggling to turn my head in the direction of the chaos below, the incredible weight holding me in place making it nearly impossible to move.

“I think we’re pretty far from okay right now!” Jenkins shouted back to me as another crash echoed out throughout the foundry, followed closely behind by the sound of running feet. “There! Get him before he runs again!”

“Rah!” Léandre grunted, the sound of water hitting the ground reaching my ears a moment later. “Gah! It’s too quick!”

A second later, the burning silhouette of a large fox made entirely from azure-tinted flames rushed into view beneath me, its body gracefully sailing through the air as it leaped onto an anvil. Twisting, it then knocked the hammer that had been sitting on top of it to the ground before continuing onwards onto a nearby stone table full of empty molds, scattering them everywhere in its wake. Chasing it, I caught sight of both Jenkins and Léandre run by belatedly, the former holding a badly singed wooden chair in one hand and a length of chain in the other, while the latter struggled to keep up with a large bucket of water.

“I’m going to try and corner—” Jenkins started to call out before the far door out of the Foundry suddenly opened followed by Aldwin’s voice calling out.

“What the hell is going on in—ah!” he exclaimed, letting out a shout of surprise as he no doubt caught sight of the æther fox as it angled its flight directly towards him.

“Close the door!” both Jenkins and Léandre shouted, prompting a second yelp from the older man as he lunged into the room and slammed the door behind him, reacting just fast enough to force the fox to abandon its route and dart out of sight.

“Gods! What is that thing?” Aldwin shouted as he staggered away from the elemental, his eyes wide with shock. “What is going on in here? Where is Lyrian?”

“I’m up here!” I called to the bann, seeing his eyes widen at the sound of my voice before snapping upwards towards my spread-eagled position on the foundry’s ceiling. “As for what’s going on, we’re running an…uh, experiment.”

“Experiment,” Aldwin repeated completely deadpan, only to flinch as another loud crash echoed through the room, followed by cursing from both Léandre and Jenkins.

“Damn it! So close!” Jenkins spat in an angry tone. “We could use your help here, Fredric! We need to catch this thing before it escapes and sets something on fire! Or worse!”

“Uh, r-right!” Aldwin stuttered, taking his eyes off me to glance around him for something to use, his gaze eventually landing on a pair of long-handled tongs. Rushing over, the man grabbed the tool and disappeared outside my field of vision.

The next few seconds afterward passed with a series of loud noises and shouts from the trio, culminating in the æther fox once more rushing into view. But this time, however, with three assailants to outwit instead of two, its streak of luck finally came to an end. Running away from Jenkins’s snapping chain whip, I saw the creature dive towards a table in an attempt to escape the smith, only to twist away at the last second thanks to Léandre, fleeing blindly to the side and directly into the path of the tongs held in Aldwin’s hands. With a loud snap, the metal tongs closed around the mischievous æther elemental’s shoulders and pinned it to the ground, Jenkins’s chair joining it a few seconds afterward and doing the same to its flailing rear.

“Douse it!” Jenkins shouted desperately to Léandre as his chair began to smolder and spark. “Hurry!”

“I’m coming, j-just hold on,” the architect called out, breathing heavily as he struggled to hold onto his heavy bucket while running around the table he’d been standing behind, sprinting directly towards Jenkins and Aldwin. In his rush, however, he neglected to look where he was putting his feet, stepping directly onto one of the several molds the fox had knocked to the ground and pitching forward with a yelp.

An instant later, I saw a wave of water then crash over Jenkins, Aldwin, and the azure fox, the spray mercifully enough to douse the rogue elemental while also managing to completely soak the pair.

“Oh, no!” I exclaimed, unable to keep myself breaking out in laughter at the sudden turn of events. But before I could even begin to properly enjoy my mirth, the force that was holding me to the ceiling abruptly vanished, sending me plummeting straight towards the ground where I landed with a heavy crash. “Oh, owww.”

“Serves you right for laughing,” Jenkins’s voice called out a few seconds afterward as I rolled over onto my side.

“Can anyone please explain to me what just happened?” Aldwin asked plaintively, his voice sounding both bewildered and defeated at the same time. “I was just walking by and heard shouting, so I came to investigate…and now I’m standing here, completely soaked to my britches.”

“Ah, right,” I heard Léandre say contritely as I pushed myself up off the ground. “My apologies about that.”

“Well,” I began as I turned to face the trio, spotting a panting Jenkins sitting on the chair he’d been carrying while Aldwin and Léandre stood around him, a small scorched ball of metal on the floor marking the spot where the elemental fox had been. “What happened is that we were trying to confirm that raw heat is not a factor at all when it comes to shaping æthertouched iron. Unfortunately, while we were confirming that, there was a…oh, what did we decide to call it? Oh, an unexpected magical event, then the next thing I knew I was falling. Towards the ceiling.”

“I-I see,” Aldwin said, nodding slowly as if gravity suddenly reversing itself was an everyday occurrence. “And that fox that I saw? It just…sprang into existence somehow?”

“Actually, the fox was the bar of iron we were using for the test,” Jenkins answered, giving the bann a shrug as if that made perfect sense. “Right after Lyrian fell, it just shifted shapes, and, well…”

The tired smith used a hand to indicate the chaos and disarray within the foundry.

“Huh,” Aldwin grunted, his eyes briefly scanning over the room before finally landing back onto me. “Please do not take what I am about to say the wrong way, but I feel compelled to ask. Do you three even know what you are doing while working with this metal?”

“Oh, gods, no,” Jenkins snorted.

“Nope,” Léandre admitted a second afterward.

“Not even a little bit,” I finished, giving the man a shrug. “But I think we’re on the verge of a breakthrough now.”

“Terrific,” Aldwin stated while exhaling deeply and bringing up a hand to rub his brow.

“I know this all looks pretty chaotic, Fredric,” I said soothingly, once again nodding towards the chaos around us. “But as inconvenient as this trial and error is, none of it has been exceptionally dangerous. In fact, all of them have been pretty harmless now that I think about it.”

“Says the man who would have fallen into the sky if it wasn’t for the ceiling,” Léandre added dryly.

“Okay, so maybe that one would have been a little dangerous,” I admitted as a mental image of me hurtling through the air kilometers above Aldford popped into my head. “But we’re still all alive.”

“Do you three at least have an idea of why these strange magical events are happening at least?” Aldwin asked plaintively.

“Thanks to this last test, yes, actually,” I replied, waving a hand towards the ætherforge, which was blazing with a raging inferno of bright azure flames within. “From what we’ve been able to figure out so far, the æthertouched iron doesn’t actually react to heat at all like normal metals do, but instead, it reacts to the amount of mana that’s being infused into it. It’s only when it hits a certain threshold that it becomes malleable and easy to work with.

“Unfortunately, however,” I said, pausing briefly before continuing. “There seems to be a fine line between it becoming malleable and being suffused with so much mana that it starts reproducing spell-like effects when we try to shape it—at least when it comes to larger objects. For some reason, smaller works don’t ever seem to reach that critical mass of mana needed for a reaction.”

“There’s…too much mana in it?” Aldwin asked, raising an eyebrow towards me in question. “Well, if I remember right, you can drain mana from things, can’t you? Have you tried doing that?”

“I did,” I answered with a nod. “Unfortunately, that didn’t work either. There’s simply just too much of it for my ability to make a difference, at least not before the mana stored within dissipates away naturally.”

“And then what exactly happens to it when it dissipates?” Aldwin asked, glancing towards the forge and then back at me.

“It just hardens again,” I answered. “At least until we put it back into the forge and saturate it with mana again.”

“Which then causes the same problem to reoccur,” Aldwin said.

“Normally, yes,” I agreed, despite holding up a single finger. “But I’m thinking that’s because of how we built this thing and how we’re currently using it.”

“Hm?” Aldwin grunted in confusion, glancing over at the still-blazing furnace once more. “I’m afraid you’ve lost me there again. What do you mean?”

“We built this forge with the same mindset that we use for our other forges,” I said, waving the bann over to me as I started to move towards the ætherforge. “We wanted it big, powerful, and most importantly hot, which…if our working theory is right, is actually what’s working against us.”

“Because after your last ‘test’, you don’t think that the heat the forge produces matters,” Aldwin said, his earlier trepidation gradually vanishing and being replaced with curiosity.

“Exactly,” I replied as we stopped right before the mouth of the glowing forge. “What we’re thinking now is that the intensity of the fire inside here is what affects the rate that the æther is converted into mana, which then, in turn, is what affects how quickly mana is absorbed by the æthertouched iron that we place inside it.

“So with all of that now in mind,” I continued, “We’re thinking that if we reduce the intensity of the flames, it’ll slow the rate of mana suffusing the iron, giving us a longer period to work and shape it while it’s in that ‘sweet spot’ of malleability.”

“That sounds…promising, yes?” Aldwin asked, uncertainty coloring his voice.

“I sure think it does,” I said optimistically before indicating the forge. “Now unfortunately, this next part is going to involve a bit of waiting while we wait for the æther inside to burn off. We…learned the hard way that trying to put…well, anything into the forge when it’s this intense is A Bad Idea.”

“Do I even want to know how you found that out?” Aldwin queried, giving me a pointed look as he posed the question.

“No!” Jenkins exclaimed loudly, having overheard the bann’s query, the man glaring at both Léandre and me when we both broke into chuckles. “You do not!”

Intrigued and now unwilling to leave, I then managed to successfully conscript Aldwin into our forging efforts, the four of us passing the time together and cleaning up the foundry while we waited for the æther to burn itself out. The work and short break afterward gave us all a chance to come down from our rather hectic experience with the rogue elemental as well as catch our breaths from what had already been a busy morning.

And in Léandre’s and my case, an even busier night beforehand.

After finishing my review of his design, we promptly jumped into work, breaking it down into the manageable steps that we’d need to take in order to actually build it. As we did, I saw that Léandre had spent a great deal of time in researching and refining the original ballista schematic that he’d based his ideas off, managing to enhance its potential by an order of magnitude. I had little doubt that if we were able to actually succeed in building what he’d sketched out, that it would be a terror to behold on the battlefield. But in order to do that, we had to figure out how to reliably forge the æthertouched iron that we had, the few tests that Léandre had been able to perform with the metal making it a better choice than just mundane iron. Thankfully, too, in anticipation of the need to experiment, Léandre had made sure to stockpile a fairly large supply of æther over the last few weeks, ensuring that we had plenty to work with as we tried to figure out the magical metal.

So, to that end, after putting a plan of attack together for what we’d try to do first, we had gone to the foundry and begun to test the various theories that Léandre had managed to come up with. The process, much as this morning had been, turned out to be one fraught with trial and error, where error often meant a bizarre magical effect. For the most part, they were fortunately minor incidents, ranging from accidental levitation to sudden teleporting across the room or needing to endure being turned a bright purple in color for an hour until the magic wore off. Unfortunately, though, there was one particular incident that did end up costing Léandre and me a fair bit of time, which was when a particularly large ingot of æthertouched iron decided to cast a spell called [Greater Sleep] on us.

Whether it was a subtle way of the game itself telling us to take a break or just random chance, we had ended up passed out on the floor of the foundry for several hours through the night. In fact, it wasn’t until Jenkins arrived first thing in the morning that he found us in front of the forge and woke us before anyone else did—at first thinking that we’d worked ourselves into exhaustion. To his credit though, when he actually found out what we’d been attempting to do, he didn’t decide to simply turn and run, but he stayed on to help us, his curiosity getting the better of him. It was then, with his help, that we resumed our experimenting, the unexpected sleep having at least served a useful purpose in making sure that we were rested.

“All right, that looks good,” I found myself saying a while later as Léandre slowly poured raw æther into a specially cut channel in the forge. “Let’s see if this next idea is the one that works.”

“Here’s to hoping,” the Tul’Shar agreed eagerly, his optimism having remained steadily high as we ran test after test to figure out how to properly forge the magical metal.

“Indeed,” Aldwin affirmed, watching me pick up an æthertouched iron bar with a tool and place it inside the now dimly burning forge, the azure flames within a pale shadow of what they’d been earlier. “If for no other reason than to steady my all-too-frayed nerves and know that all of your experimenting has finally come to an end.”

“I’ll admit, it would be nice to forge something without worrying how it will go wrong,” I replied, carefully watching the metal inside the forge as it gradually began to glow, the process taking much longer than it had before.

Waiting for several minutes as the iron slowly saturated itself with mana, I eventually saw its glow change, evening out to a solid azure hue throughout the entirety of the metal. Deciding that this was the moment that I was waiting for, I withdrew the bar from the forge and placed it on a nearby anvil.

“Here goes nothing,” I announced, sparing a hopeful glance towards the others as I snatched up a hammer.

Feeling everyone’s eyes on me, I lifted the tool upwards to my shoulder before bringing it down heavily with a loud clang. Instantly, I felt the metal give beneath my blow, prompting me to follow it with a second, then a third, and a fourth, all without the bar shaping itself awkwardly from the impact or worse, triggering an unexpected magical effect. Encouraged, the next half-minute turned into a blur as I rained down a string of consecutive hits on the æthertouched iron, stopping when I noticed the glow of the metal begin to fade. Setting my hammer down, I picked up the partially shaped bar with a pair of tongs and turned to face the group, seeing their eyes immediately fixate on upon it.

“You did it,” Aldwin said with audible relief, a wide smile breaking out on his face as he looked up towards me.

“We did it,” I corrected, matching the man’s grin with one of my own as I looked down towards the object in hand, my eyes landing on the rough shape of what was unmistakably the beginnings of a blade.

An æthertouched iron blade.

Chapter 55

“There, that’s another one done,” I announced as I finished wrapping the handle of the azure-hued axe that I’d been working on with a length of leather, making sure the grip was right before I set it down. “You can add it to the others and bring me whatever’s next.”

“No need,” stated the apprentice that had I’d been working with for the better part of the day. “That was the last one on the pile. Looks like you’re all finished.”

“Really?” I asked, completely caught off guard by the man’s words, reflexively glancing to my right towards where the seemingly endless pile of armor and weapons had been stacked for me to finish. To my surprise, I found myself staring at an empty table completely devoid of anything, save for a few scraps of discarded leather. “Huh, look at that. I guess we are done.”

Chuckling at my reaction, the apprentice simply slapped my shoulder in compliment before heading off to deliver the axe to its final destination. With his departure, and no other work to fill my time, I found myself free to clean up my workspace, sweeping the various scraps of leather, cloth, and other left-over materials into a pile on my workbench. As I did, it slowly allowed me to come out of the crafting haze that I’d fallen into and notice the small notification that hovered in the corner of my vision, my hyper-focused mind having ignored it until now. Checking it out of reflex, I saw it expand into the message that I’d been waiting for all day today.

Your skill in Blacksmithing has increased to level 29!

New Quest Received! Blacksmithing: Becoming a Journeyman (Tradeskill)

Congratulations! You have reached the final level of the Apprentice Crafting Tier in Blacksmithing! In order to continue to progress to level thirty and reach the Journeyman Crafting Tier, you must show your skill and dedication to your craft by creating a single Mastercraft-quality item with an item level of 29.

On completing this challenge, you will immediately progress to level thirty and the next crafting tier. In addition, you will unlock the Blacksmithing Mastery Tree, allowing you to further refine and specialize your skills.

Good luck!

Objectives:

Craft a level 29 Mastercraft quality item: 0/1

Reward:

Journeyman Blacksmithing

Access to the Blacksmithing Mastery Tree

Wait, what? There’s a mastery tree? I exclaimed with a mental start as I read over the notification and corresponding quest that had appeared with it. Léandre didn’t say any—oh wait, was that why he was grinning earlier when he was telling me what to expect?

Shaking my head at man’s secrecy, I couldn’t help but also appreciate it, knowing that had he told me that it would have spoiled the excitement that I felt now. Quickly skimming over the text for a second time, I felt whatever was left of the crafting haze that hung over me fade away, bringing me fully back into the present.

Damn, now I wish I’d had the chance to keep up with carpentry now too before we tackle building that ballista. It would have been great to hit journeyman on both of those tradeskills, I thought, mentally kicking myself for somehow not finding more time to do so. Though as I considered that train of thought, I realized that it was because I’d neglected the trade in favor of blacksmithing that I was able to hit level twenty-nine in the first place. Which means if I’m going to keep up, I’m going to have to think about specializing in either two or three tradeskills past level thirty. I won’t have the time to keep up otherwise if I want to keep adventuring. Especially not if I pick up one of the advanced tradeskills that are supposed to become available past level thirty as well.

“If only I didn’t need to sleep,” I muttered with an envious sigh as finished tidying my workbench, unable to help excitedly imagining what was waiting for me in the levels to come. “Then maybe I could manage the best of both worlds.”

“Ah, are we at the point in the day where we are having words with our own thoughts?” Léandre’s voice suddenly interrupted from beside me, causing me to flinch as I turned my head to glance at him.

“You could say that,” I answered back with a chuckle. “I was just imagining how much more productive I’d be if my ætherwarping removed the need for sleep instead of food.”

“Ah, a familiar path that my thoughts have traveled as well,” the architect replied, matching my laugh with one of his own. “Though, I imagine that it would wear on one in its own way. There is something about being able to lay one’s head down to rest and wake with the previous day’s problems seeming smaller than they once were.”

“That is certainly true,” I agreed, taking that opportunity to shift the topic of conversation back towards my earlier thoughts. “But in either case though, I’ve just found out about what you’ve been keeping from me after hitting level twenty-nine in a tradeskill.”

“Ah, so now you know about the mastery tree,” Léandre replied, his smile only widening. “Exciting, isn’t it? You must have worked quickly, too, if you’ve already discovered it. I was expecting it to take you the entire day, if not into tomorrow.”

“So did I,” I answered while motioning vaguely towards the empty table nearby. “But I only had little more than a half level to go before I capped out, and working with the æthertouched iron was a great source of experience. Even more than I expected it would be.”

“For all the trouble that we went through to discover its secrets, I should certainly hope so,” the craftsman said, tilting his head thoughtfully as he spoke. “Though that is good to know in practice since I can no longer gain experience in the trade. I shall have my apprentices devote a portion of their time working with the metal so they too can soon progress into the journeyman tiers.”

“That would be great. The more hands we have able to churn higher leveled stuff out, the better,” I said, knowing full well that we were on the leading edge of the crafting rush that would be hitting the town over the next few days. We were certain that there had to be other dedicated crafters in the town that were either close to or had already hit level twenty-nine in a tradeskill with the bulk of the others not far behind. Once more of them reached the end of the tier and word got out about what was waiting at level thirty, we were confident that it would spark a flurry of excitement as everyone tried to make their final projects in order to continue progressing.

And that wasn’t even including the other crafting secret that Léandre and I were about to dive into, the craftsman barely able to contain himself as he looked at me.

“My thoughts exactly,” he replied, his tone abruptly changing and suddenly becoming even more eager. “Anyway, I am not sure if you have been watching the time, but I believe that we have an appointment to keep.”

“Ha, I suppose we do,” I answered, smiling at the man’s excitement, still recalling his expression when I told him about our upcoming meeting with Garr and the gronn’s promise to explain what the essences that we’d been finding where.

And then demonstrate a process that he called essence melding.

“In that case then, shall we?” I asked, sweeping the last pile of scraps on my workbench into a bin and motioning for us to get moving.

Needing no further prompting, we made our way out of the foundry and through the crafting hall until we found ourselves back in the same warehouse where we’d started our day yesterday. This time, however, instead of going searching for materials, we made our way to the section that Léandre had cut out for the mages to store their things until a new place could be built for them. Arriving in short order, we found that the spellcasters had wasted little time in transferring all their various artifacts and other knickknacks out of the now-broken laboratory, filling the entirety of the shelves that had been provided to them.

“Hrm,” Léandre mused loudly as we entered the area, finding it empty save for Caius and Garr who were both laying out a series of glowing essences on the table in preparation for our meeting. “This was all in that cabin of yours?”

“Hey, you’re both right on time! We were just finishing up here,” Caius replied as he looked up from the table, it taking a few extra seconds for Léandre’s question to reach him, his gaze shifting to the nearby shelving. “And ah, this is only the stuff that that was loose in the workshop, which speaking of, Halcyon and Donovan wanted to ask if there was any way we could get a little bit more space. We still have six or seven crates that we haven’t unpacked, and another row of shelving would be great.”

“Six or seven…crates?” Léandre repeated, his eyes widening at the warlock’s words. “How can you possibly have that many artifacts? Better yet, where did you even store all of it in your shack before?”

“Oh, here and there,” Caius replied with shrug. “Sure, it was a little cramped at times, but we managed. In any case though, now that we have a bit more space, we want to unpack everything, see exactly what it is and if it’s worth keeping and go from there. A lot of this stuff we pulled out of the ruins because it looked interesting and we didn’t want to risk Carver or the orcs getting it. Most of it might really be useless in the end, though.”

“That is…understandable, I suppose,” Léandre replied, shaking his head at the explanation. “I believe I can find you a bit more shelving for a short while, but it would be temporary, understood? Once this orc business is finished, we will be needing to replenish our stores and require the space back.”

“That’s not a problem at all,” Caius promised with a nod. “Once this is all done, we’ll do our best to be out of your hair here.”

“Good. We can move onto new and more exciting things,” the architect said, his attention sliding towards Garr, who had been watching the conversation with a slight smile. “Such as the mystery behind these essences.”

“We most certainly can,” the gronn said by way of greeting. “I take that you must be the Léandre I have been told so much told about. It is good to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” Léandre replied in a gracious tone as he indicated the table and the essences upon it. “And we appreciate you being willing to share your knowledge with us.”

“Think nothing of it,” Garr said with a wave of his hand, his attention sliding over towards me as he spoke. “It is something that I am only too happy to do—especially when I can see that I have such eager students.”

“Just a little eager,” I replied in a light tone, offering the gronn a mock indifferent shrug as I spoke. “I mean I’ve only had this on my mind since you said you knew what the essences were.”

“So I can tell,” Garr answered with a snort followed by a chuckle as he waved us closer to the table. “Very well then, we shall not waste any more time and dive directly into the art of essence melding, lest your eagerness consume you.”

As he waited for us to gather around the table, Garr reached out to grab a pair of the essences that he and Caius had laid out, handing them over to both Léandre and me. “To begin first, the most important step of learning essence melding is to know exactly what an essence is, which is that they are the physical manifestation of an ideal, not too dissimilar than that of a spirit. However, where a spirit is a living entity in its own right, an essence is not; it is instead the energy of an ideal condensed into a single orb. Here, look upon these essences and you should be able to divine my meaning.”

“All right, sure,” I said, nodding to show that I was following along with his explanation as Léandre and I each took the glowing essences from him, seeing Caius also reach out and grab his own off the table. Feeling nearly weightless and oddly slippery in my hand as I grasped it, I had to force myself to maintain a firm hold on it as I inspected it, seeing a brief tag appear in my vision pointing towards it.

[Essence of Celerity]

“What ideal do you sense within?” Garr prompted gently after giving us a chance to look at the essence.

“Celerity,” I answered as I took my eyes off the glowing orb and back towards the man, hearing Léandre echo out the same. “Which, unless I miss my guess, would be the ideal of speed?”

“A vision of it, yes,” Garr replied with a nod, motioning for me to pass the essence I held to him, which I promptly did. “For as many varieties as we have in our own language, so does nature itself. If you are curious to know, this vision, in particular, would often be derived from animals or spirits that rely on speed to either catch prey or evade predators.”

“Is it?” I asked, feeling a spark of curiosity bloom at that statement. “Hm, I suppose that makes sense when I think about it.”

“Indeed,” Garr answered with a nod. “Now I could go on much further about the nature of essences, but for the purposes of learning, what we have just covered is enough. Especially since the actual process of melding an essence can be complex enough to grasp without additional details clouding your mind.”

“To begin first with the end goal of the melding process, what we are setting out to do is to join the essence that we hold in our hands and to then meld it into a vessel of our choosing. But in order to do this, we must convince the essence itself to allow itself to be melded, for it wishes to remain in the stable state that you see before you.”

“Convince it?” Léandre repeated, sounding unsure of what exactly that meant. “And how would we do that? I assume it’s not like cracking an egg…is it?”

“Were it only,” Garr said with a chuckle, his head shaking from side to side as he shifted his grip on the essence until he was holding it directly in front of him, supported just by the thumb and forefingers of each hand. “In order to prepare an essence for melding, one must focus their will upon it and convince it to yield to your desire. Depending on the potency of the essence, this might be a rather challenging process, but one that also gets easier with practice.”

“Uh, well, I’m happy to hear that it gets easier,” I commented as I tried to follow along with the man’s explanation so far. “But what do you mean exactly by ‘focus your will upon it’? Is there a trick to it or something?”

“There is no trick,” Garr reassured. “But it is also difficult to otherwise explain until you attempt it yourself. Rest assured that it is not a task that requires any magical grounding in but simply one of discipline. Observe me now as I demonstrate the melding process in its entirety, then I shall leave you with an opportunity to try yourselves.”

Without waiting for any reply from me, Garr took his eyes off of me and focused on the orb held between his fingers, concentrating upon it intently. He stared at it for several more seconds without anything visibly happening to it, at least until he started to pull his fingers apart, the orb then abruptly dissolving into countless strands of energy.

“Whoa!” I exclaimed as I saw the essence peel itself apart, the whorls of magic traveling up Garr’s fingers until they formed into a swirling storm that enveloped each of his hands.

Watching the man, the look of concentration on his face didn’t waver as he slowly turned towards the table beside us, reaching to pick up an iron shortsword that had been laid out on the table among the essences. As he lifted the blade, the essence in his hand began to visibly react, spreading outward from the hand holding it and moving to encircle the weapon. Holding the blade firmly, Garr brought the other hand closer towards it until it too reacted, the golden energy in his hands then completely enshrouding the sword until I could barely see it. Over the next few seconds, the energy surrounding the weapon began to spin faster and faster until I finally managed to see a gleaming outline of the blade from within the storm.

Hang on a second, that wasn’t how it looked a second ago! I thought as I watched the magic begin to fade away and the still-glowing sword become more and more visible until it vanished with a snap, leaving me staring at the now slightly golden-hued shortsword in Garr’s hand.

Which looked subtly different than how it had when he’d first picked it up.

“It changed,” I stated numbly, surprise still radiating through me as I looked at the weapon with wide eyes. “The sword looks a little different now than it did before absorbing the essence.”

“That it has,” Garr replied with a wide smile as he offered the blade to me for my inspection. “A subtle change for certain, but one that reflects the new essence that has been melded into it.”

Taking the weapon from the man once again, I had a second chance to look over it, my eyes traveling up and down its length. Before the melding process, the shortsword could have been best described as a thick and blunt tool, at least when compared to its sleek and deadly appearance now. Where the blade itself had once looked heavy and strong enough to withstand being thrust through thick armor, it now looked light and deadly enough to simply pass through it with a whisper. Glancing at its edges and tip, they each gleamed with a preternatural sharpness that hadn’t been there earlier, its every movement as I held it in my hand seeming to slice at the air itself. Even the metal of blade itself had taken on an even brighter golden hue, to the point where a too-quick glance could mistake it for being made of brass or bronze.

But despite all those subtle alterations in its physical appearance, it was the feeling of the weapon itself in my hand that signaled the greatest change that it had undertaken. No longer did it feel like I was holding just a simple sword when I gripped it by the hilt, but instead it felt like I was holding onto something alive, the blade itself wanting to, or nearly demanding to move. It was a heady thing to experience at first, my mind struggling to understand the sensation that I felt as I gently moved the blade through the air, but one that I found myself instantly appreciating. It was only after having a chance to play with the blade for nearly a minute that I even thought to look at its description, my heart practically skipping a beat as I began to read it.

Iron Shortsword (Essence Melded – Celerity)

Slot: Main Hand

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Good (+15%)

Damage: 50-65 (Slashing and Piercing)

Strength: +12 Agility: +16

Durability: 120/120

Weight: 1 kg

Class: Any Martial

Level: 25

Special: Essence of Celerity – Channeling the power of speed itself, this blade slices through the air effortlessly, granting you a +5% Attack Speed with all attacks made with his weapon.

Melding the essence to it boosted its Agility attribute slightly and gave it a special effect, I said to myself in complete awe as I looked at the sword and its description, belatedly noticing there’d also been a minor increase to the weapon’s damage range as well.

“So what do you think?” Garr queried, his voice causing me to glance up from my intent focus on the sword in my hand.

“It is amazing,” I replied, no other words coming even close to describing what I was feeling at the moment. “I had no idea what to expect, but this was beyond it.”

“That makes me glad to hear,” the man said with a smile. “Now, do you all wish to try for yourself?”

“Absolutely!” I exclaimed, my eyes dropping down to the shortsword in my hand and back up towards Garr.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a chuckle, the man taking back the newly melded shortsword in exchange for another Essence of Celerity from the table.

“Now recall what I’ve told you as you focus your will upon the essence and allow yourself to be drawn into it,” he said to me as I held the glowing orb after having had sat down on a nearby chair at the far end of the table. “Only then will you begin to grasp the process of essence melding. Though, on those words, be assured that for a first-time melder, this process takes time to learn. Depending on your focus and understanding, it could very well take you the entire night or even longer.”

“We’ll do whatever it takes,” I stated, swearing to myself to stay up the entire night to learn the skill if I had to, knowing that the excitement raging through my heart wouldn’t allow me to sleep or think of anything else until I did.

Wishing us all luck, Garr then left us to our own devices as we assembled around the table, finding that he and Caius had laid out a few more weapons to practice on. Out of curiosity for the process, I silently watched both Léandre and Caius prepare themselves to meld, hoping to glean some inspiration from their movements before eventually turning my attention towards the essence in my hand.

Focus my will upon it, I repeated mentally as I looked upon the golden orb, seeing the shimmering energies dance within it. I hadn’t quite understood what Garr had meant by that during his explanation but had deferred to his instructions, knowing that I would figure it out after gazing into the essence.

And so I did.

Shifting my grasp to hold the sphere between my fingers as I’d been shown, I focused the entirety of my attention on the sphere, doing my best to ignore the world around me. The minutes slowly passed as I focused on the essence, my eyes slowly tracking all of the swirling whorls and twists within it, but otherwise feeling little else from the tiny object. Despite that, however, I refused to let that distract me, maintaining my focus upon it, time gradually losing all its meaning to me.

So then, when I finally felt something begin to stir at the edge of my awareness emanating from the orb, I had literally no idea how long I’d been staring at the essence. The only realization that I had was that the vague, airy sensation that I felt brush my mind had been exactly what I was looking for and forced myself to follow it. No sooner did that thought cross my mind did I suddenly feel like I’d been pulled off my feet and thrown into the air, despite the fact that I knew I was still standing in front of the table. Tumbling wildly within my mind, I was then bombarded by a thousand different impressions and emotions that changed the instant that I became aware of them.

One moment, I felt like I was flying. The next, I was consumed by an all-out desire to sprint as fast as my legs could take me. Then before either of those two feelings could even fully latch onto me, they were replaced by the desire for me to swing my arms as rapidly as I could, a new emotion then taking over an instant later. Building faster and faster than I could even process them, the constant barrage of sensations turned into an overwhelming wave of vertigo that threatened to take my legs out from under me. Scrambling mentally, I began to panic, shouting a single word through my mind in a desperate attempt to stop the onslaught.

Stop! I exclaimed in my head with all the force behind it that I could muster, feeling the maelstrom around me instantly respond and begin to slow. Stop moving!

Feeling like a drowning man coming up for a gasp of air, I realized that I’d managed to do something and instinctively redoubled my efforts, chanting the words repeatedly in my mind while imagining everything grinding to a halt. Reacting to my efforts, the torrent of emotions and sensations then began to slow drastically, allowing me to regain even more of my focus. As this process continued, I began to realize that the essence clutched between my fingers was slowly becoming clearer and clearer until it became completely translucent at the very same moment that everything spinning through my mind came to a stop.

And there it is, I said to myself with sudden understanding as I pulled my fingers away from the essence, the orb dissolving into countless tiny strands of energy that began to orbit my hands.

Staring at the golden streams of magic with wonder, I saw them slice through the air as they spun around my hands, though at a much slower rate than those around Garr’s had been when he’d demonstrated the process. Not knowing if that was at all important, I decided to continue onwards to the next step in the melding process, shifting my gaze upwards and reaching out towards a sword sitting at the edge of the table.

Grasping the hilt of the blade, I lifted the weapon and brought it closer towards me, laying it flat across my other hand’s open palm. Reacting instantly from the presence of the sword, I saw the whorls of magic in my hands begin to swirl around the item. Remembering Garr’s demonstration, I mentally encouraged the essence to flow into the blade by envisioning all of the strands streaming into it. Following my unseen will, the strands obeyed my command, swirling around the sword until it faded from sight in a storm of light much like what I’d seen earlier. Lasting for several seconds, I felt the weapon shift ever so slightly in my grip as the essence melded itself with the sword, the light slowly starting to fade away.

And then, just like that, I finished the melding process, which was promptly followed by a loud fanfare echoing through my ears and a long string of text flashing through my vision.

Congratulations! You have successfully gained the Crafting Trait: Essence Melding!

This crafting trait allows a player the ability to enhance items to truly prestigious strengths by infusing them with an Essence. Coming in multiple varieties and levels of potency, Essences are the physical manifestation of concepts, virtues, or attributes found within the world. In addition, this trait also allows for the player to be able to Merge and Sunder essences.

Merging allows for a player to combine a collection of essences of the same type and advance it a stage in potency (e.g. Merging 3 “Minor” essences together will create a single “Lesser” essence.) The quantity needed to merge essences varies depending on the type and stage in potency. In addition, some essences cannot be merged beyond a certain potency depending on its type.

Sundering allows for a player to do the opposite of Merging and split an essence from a higher potency into multiples of a lower potency. This ability also allows for players to Sunder an essence from an Essence Melded item in their possession and recover the essence within. This process, however, irrevocably destroys the item in question, causing it to turn to dust and fade from existence. In rare cases, it is possible for an essence Sundered by this process to take on special attributes or abilities that once belonged to the Sundered item, allowing it to be transferred to a new one.

“Whew!” I exclaimed as I finished reading, coming back into the present for the first time since beginning the process, feeling exhausted and wrung out. Taking a deep breath, I looked down at the sword, seeing that it too had changed in appearance after the melding process, gaining a sleek deadliness that hadn’t been there earlier. “I did it! I melded something!”

“That you did!” Garr’s voice answered from across the mages’ section and behind me somewhere, causing me to twist in its direction, seeing him sitting at a workbench, working on something that looked like a dreamcatcher attached to a long metal rod. “And it only took you a little less than two hours to learn. I am impressed!”

I blinked numbly as I looked at the man and then towards Léandre and Caius, seeing that they were both still intently focused on their essences. “Wait, it’s been two hours?”

“Losing one’s perception of time is a common side effect of one’s first meld,” Garr replied cheerfully. “Consider yourself lucky, however. When I attempted my first meld, I lost the better part of a day and collapsed upon finishing. To see you finish so quickly…could make a lesser man feel jealous thoughts.”

“You didn’t say anything about losing that much time,” I shot back, turning my head towards Garr as I spoke.

“And to what end would have knowing helped you?” he answered back unapologetically, shoulders struggling as if it didn’t matter. “It would have simply been a distraction while you were learning to bend an essence to your will.”

“I…guess,” I agreed, thinking back towards my experience in trying to learn the melding process and knowing full well that it would have been the case. At the same time, however, to have lost nearly two hours of the day in what felt like the blink of an eye felt more than a little unsettling. “Though on that note, I have a question. Am I going to lose another two hours with my next meld?”

“Now that you understand the process? No, not unless you purposefully choose to sit idle or encounter a particularly difficult essence to impose your will on,” Garr said. “You should be able to finish any meld that you attempt within minutes, if not less.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” I replied, feeling a wave of relief surge through me at the information. Though as I did, I turned my attention back towards Caius and Léandre, who were both still wrapped up in their melds, realizing that it could still be a while until they were finished. Preparing myself to settle in for a little while, I turned back towards Garr once again, eager to ask him about what exactly he was working on.

But as I began to twist in his direction, my attention was instead pulled away by the sudden arrival of Constantine, the rogue jogging into view, looking a bit peaked.

“Lyr, there you are,” he said breathing a bit heavily, his attention drifting over towards Léandre and Caius before snapping back onto me. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Well, you found me,” I said, only then noticing the serious expression that had fallen over his face and lack of interest in what the other two adventurers were doing. “Why? What’s up?”

“Sierra just respawned,” he explained, pausing to catch his breath. “And she’s called for a meeting with everyone who’s available.”

“Oh,” I replied in sudden understanding, feeling a spike of ice shoot through my veins. “So, then…”

“Yeah,” Constantine said in a whisper. “She found them. She found the orc horde.”

Chapter 56

“They’re all still coming for us,” Sierra announced in a tired voice as she looked out at those of us that had managed to come running after learning that she’d respawned back in Aldford, the specter of death sickness visibly hanging over her. “All of them that you said you saw at Khudazal and more.”

A heavy silence greeted the elf’s words as we all stared back at her in mute acceptance, each of us having already guessed the nature of her news from the moment we’d heard she’d respawned. Unfortunately, though, given the timing of the day, most of our group was either away from Aldford or caught in the middle of something they couldn’t walk away from, such as Léandre and Caius. That had left only seven of us free to cram ourselves into Aldwin’s office, which in addition to him, Sierra, and myself, also included Constantine, Garr, Donovan, and Kilgore, the scout literally having arrived back to town on horseback minutes earlier.

“So you found it, then,” I replied from my spot leaning against a wall, eventually finding my voice after the wave of anxiety that her words had brought on finished passing through me.

“Yes. Yes, we did,” Sierra answered, her eyes losing their focus and dropping downwards as she briefly lost herself in memory, the woman exhaling a deep sigh as they sharpened once more and rose back up towards us. “We found the siegebreaker.”

Pausing just long enough for her statement to sink in, and to give herself an extra second to collect herself, the words then began to flow out from the scout as she began to describe what she’d seen.

“It is a level twenty-nine elite war boss—whatever that is exactly,” she said, squirming in her chair as she turned to look at me first before continuing towards Constantine and Kilgore standing nearby. “But as soon as I saw it, I got a war quest update marking it as an objective for us to destroy, which I’m sure you’ll get too now that I’m back to tell you about it.

“In either case, though,” she continued, shaking her head as she spoke, “this thing is even more terrifying than I could ever hope to accurately describe. It looks like a four-legged lizard of some sort, except giant—easily sixty or more feet in length and about a third that wide. But if that wasn’t enough on its own, there’s no doubt anymore that the orcs know that we have a way of hurting their constructs. From what we saw at a distance, it looks like they’ve gone and armored the thing with huge slabs of metal. As if its size weren’t overkill already.”

“Apparently not,” I grunted, my mental imagination already running away with itself as I pictured the siegebreaker in my mind’s eye.

“Definitely not,” Sierra corrected with a shake of her head. “Because for as much as the monster scared me, the horde marching behind it was just as bad, which in a way, is how I ended up back here in the first place.”

“That is something I was about to ask, soon as I figured out a polite way to do so,” Aldwin said in a gentle tone from behind his desk, his eyes unmistakably flashing towards Garr who looked visibly anxious since the meeting had started. “What is it exactly that happened, and what of the others with you? None of them resurrected here with you.”

“That’s because I was the only one who took the risk of trying to take a closer look,” the scout replied, immediately catching on to the subtext of the Bann’s words and shifted to give Garr a reassuring look. “The rest of the group should be fine, including those you sent with us. The plan was for them to take shelter farther into the Hartwyld while I went on ahead. So, beyond the orcs now knowing that they are being watched, the others should be safe.”

“That is reassuring to hear,” Garr answered graciously, inclining his head towards the scout, a curious expression crossing his face as he did so. “Though I would ask then if you already saw the horde and this…abomination, why did you look to get even closer?”

“Well, firstly, because I wanted to test and see how alert they were and if they would spot me,” Sierra replied, going on to motion towards a streak of corruption that covered a part of her face and arm. “Which, as you can see, they most certainly did.

“And second,” she added, her voice dropping as she glanced over towards the gronn. “Because of a specific tribal banner that your companions spotted flying over the orc horde. They were particularly worried about what it might represent. It was one with three diagonal slashes across with a broken bone beneath them.”

“A banner?” Garr repeated, his face at first narrowing in confusion as he took a second to parse Sierra’s description before realization abruptly hit him, his voice breaking as he spoke once more. “W-wait, you don’t mean…”

“I think I do, yes,” Sierra replied as gently as she could. “I got close enough to the horde to see at least a handful of them before I was spotted.”

“I-I see,” the gronn said, glancing down at the floor for several seconds to compose himself before focusing his attention on Constantine, Kilgore, and me. “Then I’m afraid to say that it seems that our efforts to wound the orcs at Khudazal have succeeded all too well. Enough so that Zhul himself has seen fit to join the horde that he’s sent out for us.”

“That’s what they said,” Sierra stated with a nod. “But in either case, that was the major reason why I wanted to get closer to the horde. To make sure that what they saw was right. Unfortunately, though, that didn’t quite work out for me the way I’d hoped.”

“So what does that mean for us now?” Kilgore asked as the room fell silent once again, the aura of tension and anxiety that had initially filled it only growing thicker the longer the meeting went on. “Both with the full horde coming as well as Zhul.”

“It means that we are now officially preparing for a siege,” I replied, surprised to find a heavy weight lift itself off my shoulders the moment that I said the words. Since returning from Khudazal, I’d been filled with anticipation wondering how the orcs would react to our raid, whether they would choose to continue to press their attack, retreat and regroup, or do something else entirely. Knowing now that they were still coming towards us finally gave me something to hold on to and focus on, rather than letting my anxiety get the better of me as I waited for the proverbial shoe to drop. “Because there is no way that we’re going to be able to stand up to that many orcs on the open plains. Even with all the reinforcements that we’re about to get.”

“So it does,” Aldwin agreed, a complicated array of emotions playing across the retired knight’s face, the most recognizable of them being tired resignation. But those emotions only lasted for a handful of seconds before they were buried under a stoic expression, the pragmatic military side to the man taking over as he looked towards Sierra. “How long do we have before they arrive?”

“A couple days at least,” she replied in a somewhat confident tone. “Though how much longer depends on how quickly they want to move and if we can find a way to delay them. When we found the horde, they were roughly a half-day or so away from where Shadow’s Fall used to be, which they could reach tonight if they keep the same pace. But from there, they’ll need to cross all the rivers that are between them and farther south, which will slow them down quite a bit no matter what they do.”

“Especially if they want to use the opportunity to stock up on water and forage as best they can for extra food,” the scout added as an afterthought. “They won’t have much opportunity for that the farther south they go now that we’ve burnt the forests and chased all the animals away.”

“So possibly as early as Friday afternoon sometime,” Aldwin said as we all did the mental math with the distances and delays involved. “But depending on how quickly they march during the day, they may not be keen on risking an engagement immediately. At least not without a chance to rest.”

“Not unless they send part of their forces to reinforce Valor’s Point ahead of them,” I said, a thought then coming to my mind and causing me to turn towards Garr. “What can you tell us about Zhul? Specifically with regards to his tactics and leadership. Should we be worried about a surprise attack or something unexpected from him?”

“Hm, on principle I would say yes, because not to do so risks inviting defeat, but in this situation, I am not certain,” Garr replied hesitantly as he mulled over the question. “As an orc, Zhul is…brash, vicious, and direct, ruling through pure strength rather than subterfuge. If given the option, I would think he would seek to overpower you and beat you into submission, rather than winning through a clever maneuver. Yet that does not mean he isn’t cunning or intelligent either, else Krol would have not entrusted him with Khudazal.”

The gronn paused for a second to consider his thoughts.

“Unless forced otherwise, it is my thought that Zhul would look to play to his strengths, lest he look weak to the other tribes by relying on tricks or misdirection to win the day. Especially after the damage we have wrought during our raid. If he has felt the need to join the horde, it is because he is looking to do what he can to restore his status among the other tribes.”

“I would agree to that line of thinking as well,” Aldwin added, nodding at Garr as he spoke. “There have been many a time during the war when we’ve seen warlords do reckless things or ignore clear opportunities so that they could prove themselves to the tribes following them. If this Zhul has found his position weakened, then it is likely that he would look to do the same.”

“If it helps your thinking and to know Zhul’s mind better, you might also look to speak to Arcturus,” Garr suggested. “I know that he fought against him before—or at least his tribe in the earlier days of our war. I am certain that he would have some further insight to share that I do not possess.”

“That’s good to know,” I replied, making a mental note for either me or someone else to do just that once he returned to Aldford, the gronn having been all too eager to join Freya and the others in skirmishing with the orcs. “At any rate, as much as having Zhul joining the horde makes it harder for us, there is also a slight silver lining here. It means that he’s left Khudazal to attack us directly, giving us a chance to do what we couldn’t do during our raid and kill him.”

“Perhaps,” Garr agreed despite shaking his head from side to side. “But such a thing might be easier said than done. As one of the leaders of the heralds, Zhul would be only surpassed by Krol and a few other of his lieutenants in strength. I would not expect him to be beaten easily in combat.”

“Nor do I,” I replied, already trying to imagine how we would deal with both the warlord and the siegebreaker at the same time, let alone the orc horde and corrupted constructs and spirits accompanying them. “But at the same time, this is the hand that we’ve been dealt, so it’s up to us to find a way to do it. Leaving the orcs leaderless would go a long way for us.”

“You’re not wrong there, Lyr,” Constantine said as I finished speaking. “But I think we’ve forgotten about someone else here, and that’s Sthera. If Zhul’s come looking for us, what is she up to? She might have gone to do the same against Senzin, Aryana, and the others in the fens.”

“Shit, that’s a good point,” I replied, having temporarily forgotten about the arakissi necromancer, my head swiveling back towards Garr. “I don’t suppose you would be able to give us any insight into that? Would she react the same as Zhul would?”

“Now that I am afraid I do not know in the slightest,” the gronn replied apologetically. “During my enslavement, any word about Sthera was hard to come by, for she was much the opposite of Zhul, preferring to rarely be seen or heard of. So much so, that I could not even tell you with certainty if she was even at Khudazal during your raid.”

“I see,” I said, frowning at the news. “And while we’re on that topic, we haven’t heard from Senzin yet as he promised either.”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Garr replied with a shake of his head. “Though there could be any reason for that delay. From what he and his companions have told me in the past, their situation in the fens was rather tenuous to begin with, and they may have been forced to change their plans after fleeing Khudazal.”

“That’s true,” I agreed outwardly, though internally I couldn’t help but be a little concerned now that I’d thought of it. I’d made sure to reach out to Trivium and the other adventurers both in reality and by the in-game personal messaging, but I hadn’t received replies on either front. Granted, it had only been little more than two days since we parted ways at the orc city, but the fact that they hadn’t even checked in made me wonder what had happened. “I suppose we’ll just need to wait and see if they reach out to us when they can. Beyond that, we have our hands full with our own problems.”

“That we certainly do,” Aldwin agreed, his expression softening somewhat as he continued. “Though from what you’ve told me of the other allies that you’ve encountered, as well as Aryana, I would put my faith in believing that they are doing the best they can with whatever the gods have dealt them. And while I can’t speak for the others, I know that whatever being or creature that dares to cross Aryana’s path with malice in its heart won’t live long to regret it.”

“After meeting her myself, I’d have to agree with that too,” I replied, smiling at the bann and the way he spoke of the woman, once again wondering just what their relationship between each other had been.

After we’d returned from Khudazal, I’d made a point to pass on Aryana’s message to Aldwin once things had quieted down, instantly seeing surprise and worry appearing on the man’s face the second I mentioned her. From what I’d been able to infer through the brief conversation that had followed afterward, they’d known one another practically their entire lives once arriving in Eberia and had worked closely together on occasion while serving in the military. Unfortunately, though, once the war ended, the pair had fallen out of touch, especially once Aldwin had accepted his voluntary exile away from Eberia.

Hopefully, they’re all safe enough and were just caught up in something unexpected, I thought as I pushed that train of thought to the side and forced myself to focus on the more tangible problems that demanded my attention here.

“In any case,” I said as I glanced between everyone in the room, my eyes eventually landing on Kilgore, “we now have two days to get ourselves as ready as possible before the orcs arrive, which means if we weren’t in a rush already to make sure we were ready for them, we certainly are now. That means we’re going to need to iron out our plans quickly going forward or we’re going to run out of time.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” Constantine grunted, his head turning towards Sierra. “But speaking of time, do you think we have any chance of delaying their horde like we did before? If we could buy ourselves an extra day or even half of one, it would only help us.”

“I’m sure it would,” the woman replied with a shake of her head. “But honestly, though? I don’t know. We’re in a bit of a hard place having lost Valor’s Point, and we’d have to send a fairly large group to have a chance of slowing down the main horde.”

“Which, in turn, would leave us exposed here should the orcs at the base choose to press their advantage,” Aldwin said as we all recognized the problem with that plan. “Not to mention risk their capture, should the orcs and Dread Crew try something clever.”

“And also cost us a lot of manpower that we could use around the town too,” I added, thinking of all the various tasks that we could use them for around Aldford instead.

“Pretty much,” Sierra said while nodding at the both of us. “I think, if anything, we might be better off focusing on the orcs at Valor’s Point. They’re a much more reasonable number for us to manage. Especially if we can get more help from the new adventurers to round out our numbers.”

“Well, I can help there already,” Kilgore said. “I just came back from checking in on the coming wave of people and brought back about thirty or so adventurers with me that were itching to move faster. There were more of them getting ready to break away from the larger group and make their way behind us, too. I think we could have as many as a hundred more trickling in over the course of the day if not more.”

“Now that would definitely give us more options to play with,” Sierra replied, her eyes widening at the number. “A lot more. Are they decently geared by chance?”

“Mostly,” the scout said, a small grimace crossing his face at the question. “But there’s a pretty wide range of ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’. Some of them are completely decked out as good as we are, if not better in some respects, while others are clearly struggling. It was actually something I was hoping to mention to you, Lyrian. We might have to be a little generous with outfitting some of them so they can actually compete when the orcs come.”

“Which I am more than happy to do,” I said, having expected that to be the case, especially when it came to the arcane-edged weaponry needed to bypass the corrupted constructs’ resistances. “Better for us to make sure that everyone has what they need, rather than have it sit unused. At the very least, the orcs won’t be able to steal it for loot if things really end up going sideways.

“That being said,” I continued before anyone else could reply, figuring that this was an opportune time to ask the other question I had on my mind, “do you know how many adventurers we’re looking at to come and help us?”

“Roughly,” Kilgore replied. “Berwyn is doing what he can today to get a proper headcount, but at the very least, we’re going to be looking at somewhere between six to seven hundred adventurers, total. And of all of those, we’re expecting that there’ll be about five hundred of them strong enough to fight with us.”

“Given our experiences over the last few months, I’d never thought I’d be anything less than terrified to hear of that many adventurers coming to our town,” Aldwin mused as we all absorbed those figures. “Yet now I find myself wishing that there were even more.”

“Depending on how things go around Coldscar, there very well might be in the weeks to come,” I replied, agreeing wholeheartedly with the knight. “But given our situation now, five hundred extra bodies are going to make a world of difference, especially once we add in our own people to the mix. That should give us a fighting force of about six hundred and fifty adventurers, give or take.”

“Which by my math, puts the odds at a little over five to one if we’re counting just the orcs,” Constantine said. “Depending how many constructs and spirits they have that’ll only skew further in their favor.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not,” Garr said, his attention shifting over towards Donovan who had been sitting quietly all this time, looking a little unsure of exactly why he had pulled into the meeting. “Your mages and my people have been working on a few instruments and ideas that we believe would give us an edge come battle. Such as the ward you saw me working on earlier, Lyrian. It is one that my people have devised over the course of our war and will hinder any corrupted spirit that comes into range of it, making it much easier to slay.”

“That would definitely be useful,” I replied, recalling all too well our desperate battle in the gardens and how close we’d come to being overwhelmed, as well as our original encounter with them during the first battle of Valor’s Point.

“I have no doubt that it will be,” the gronn assured. “But that is only the beginning of what I hope my people and I can contribute to your defense. We have plans for totems that are capable of mending wounds of all who are within reach and another that thickens the available mana in the air for spellcasters to better work their magic. There is even the possibility that we would be able to draw on the magic of the ley line through the tree to both protect the town as well as fuel spells to ravage the orcs.”

“Wait, you think you can do what?” I asked, the gronn’s last sentence sticking out in particular to my ear and causing me to turn towards Donovan. “Why didn’t I hear anything about this earlier? I didn’t even know that you were all working on something like that.”

“Um, well, because it might not work out just yet,” he replied, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started. “We’re still trying to figure it out exactly right now and didn’t want to say anything until we knew better. But, apparently, Garr and his other companions were able to…uh, speak to the tree?”

“Commune,” Garr corrected as he turned his head to look back at me. “We were curious to learn how closely the tree resembles those of the forest and discover more of its nature, especially given its unique state of being connected directly to the ley line.”

“Uh, all right, then,” I replied with a blink, unsure of what to exactly make of that. “And what did you find out?”

“A fair deal,” Garr said. “The tree is still young, despite its colossal size, but is maturing incredibly rapidly thanks to the magic that it is drawing on. If given enough time, I can scarcely imagine what it will become, especially if nurtured properly. That aside, however, it seems that there is a vast reservoir of power within the tree, waiting to be called on if we can determine just how to exactly.”

“We think that what they’re sensing might be the matrix that you and Halcyon created when you cast the ritual that bound the tree to the ley line,” Donovan went on to clarify as the gronn finished speaking. “We believe we could potentially use that as a sort of…tap for lack of a better word to channel mana from. In fact, that was the reason why we were trying to reactivate that security servitor that you saw this morning. We think that it might help us be able to bridge the connection. Somehow. Maybe. We’re not sure yet.”

“Well, that would be great,” I said, making full note of all the qualifiers that Donovan had attached to his explanation. “With the tree attached to the ley line, we’d have practically unlimited mana to call upon.”

“Which is one of the problems that we are having with actually making use of the tap,” Donovan explained. “We haven’t been able to determine what the matrix’s original purpose was in the ritual spell, nor how it was changed after being bound in the tree. So we’re hesitant to simply just draw on it blindly without knowing what we’re doing. If we aren’t careful, then we could potentially call on the entirety of the ley line to fuel a spell at once, which would, in turn, shatter it and trigger a violent mana surge unlike anything I could imagine.”

“Yeah, I think I can suddenly see the need for caution there,” I said with a wince, seeing similar expressions pass across everyone’s face save for Garr who looked completely unperturbed. “Unless, of course, you have a way of turning that mana surge towards the orcs?”

“If only,” Donovan replied wistfully. “But I’m afraid such things tend to be rather catastrophic directly around the caster. And, erm, in this case, possibly the entire tree itself.”

“Which, since it’s directly in the middle of Aldford, makes that an extra bad thing,” Constantine chimed in, eliciting sympathetic grunts and agreements from everyone in the room.

“That it certainly does,” the mage agreed as he turned to look back towards me. “I’m more than happy to keep you informed as our research progresses, but I am afraid I cannot say if it will be successful at all just yet.”

“Please do,” I replied, already making a second mental note to follow up with Halcyon when I had the chance. “Something tells me that we’re going to need every single advantage that we can find if we’re going to have a hope of beating the orcs.”

“I’m afraid that you might be right there, Lyrian,” Aldwin said, his tone reserved and cautious as he spoke. “And I won’t lie to any of you and say that I don’t have some doubts about our odds here, especially in light of this construct that has been spotted and all the strange magic that the orcs have recently discovered. These orcs, or at least a portion of them, are not the same kind that I spent my life fighting—and that makes me particularly anxious as to what other surprises they may have in store for us.”

“I think that goes for all of us,” Sierra admitted as a series of nods and echoes of agreement went around the room.

“That does,” I agreed, my attention turning over towards Constantine and Kilgore. “But if we’re looking to possibly add to the list of surprises that we might be able to call on, I do have one idea that might be worth exploring. But fair warning though, if we go through with it, there is a chance it could backfire on us spectacularly.”

“I think at this point I am ready to listen to any idea that might end up aiding us,” Aldwin replied. “Regardless of what the risks might be.”

“Fair enough,” I said, taking a deep breath as I collected my thoughts. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you, because this might sound a little crazy. Even for me.”

“Now that’s a high bar to set,” Sierra replied in a curious tone as everyone’s eyes shifted onto me. “What exactly do you have in mind?”

“To do what anyone who finds themselves with their back against the wall does,” I answered simply as I scanned over everyone’s face. “Find a way to cheat.”

Chapter 57

Thursday, April 25th, 2047 – 7:00 a.m.

Aldford – Léandre’s Workshop

“Æthertouched nails?” I heard Léandre ask from somewhere behind me, his voice echoing throughout the workshop.

“Check,” I replied as I glanced over to the tray that we’d stashed them all in. “Got them right here.”

“Æthertouched tools?” The next question came without missing a beat.

“Chisel, saw, knife, hand drill, and block planer,” I answered, my eyes scanning over each of the darkened metal tools as I called them out.

“Good, good, and then last but not least,” Léandre said, a faint crinkle of paper accompanying his speech, “a dozen æthertouched sprockets.”

“Uh,” I grunted, glancing down towards the various trays and containers that I’d laid out on the workbench, each of them containing the various parts and pieces that we would need for our upcoming build. But as I scanned through each of them, I didn’t find any of the sprockets Léandre had called out for, it taking me nearly a full five seconds before I realized what he’d done, prompting me to turn and glance at the man. “Hey, wait a second. We don’t need sprockets for this.”

“That we certainly do not,” he agreed with a coy smile. “That was me making sure that you’d brought your reasoning with you this morning.”

“Very funny,” I replied with a snort. “And how am I supposed to ensure that you brought yours?”

“You don’t have to,” Léandre said, his grin only widening. “For if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been able to trick you so easily.”

“Ha, fair enough,” I grunted back at the man, while turning back towards the workbench. “Anyway, though, unless there’s something else left on our list to check, I think we’re about ready to start.”

“I would agree,” the craftsman replied. “That was the last of our preparations, and since nothing appears to be missing, I believe we are clear as well. That is if you are ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready, all right,” I said in an eager tone, rubbing my hands together. “I’ve been dying to put this thing together since you first showed me the sketch.”

“Excellent!” Léandre exclaimed, matching my excitement by clapping his hands together. “Then let us begin with the weapon’s framing.”

Diving into our work without any further fanfare, we finally began on the new ballista design that Léandre had shown me several days earlier, the project having practically consumed every waking moment of our thoughts since. It was our hope that if we were able to successfully craft the improved siege engine that it would give us a desperately needed superweapon that we could bring to bear against the orc horde—or rather the massive construct at its head.

And if our luck held out as well, it would provide a chance for the both of us to leave the apprentice level crafting tiers in both carpentry and blacksmithing behind and progress onwards into the journeyman tiers.

This would give us two solid wins that we could really use right now, I thought as I followed Léandre to one side of the workshop where several lengths of freshly milled ætherwarped oak awaited us. It had ended up being both a long day and night yesterday in the aftermath of the orc horde’s discovery, the afternoon then devolving into a seemingly endless planning and briefing marathon as we tried to figure out our next steps. By the time that night fell, and I managed to get myself back to the crafting hall, an anxious pall had fallen over practically everyone inside as they learned of the horde’s approach, causing productivity to understandably take a dip for the worse. As such, it was both Léandre’s and my hope that a successful build on our part would go a long way to inspiring all the other crafters in the town before their nerves could truly get the better of them—and while there was also still time for their efforts to make a difference.

“Oof, I always forget that these are heavier than they look,” Léandre said with a grunt as we lifted a thick beam of the ætherwarped wood that would serve as part of the ballista’s frame. “I think if we cast a length from pure iron that it would be lighter.”

“Ha,” I replied as I effortlessly lifted my end up, allowing the other man to lead the way as we carried the beam towards the center of the workshop. “Well, first of all, I’m not so sure you’re right about that. This ætherwarped oak might be pretty dense, but I don’t think it’s quite that heavy.”

“It…is heavy enough,” Léandre replied, exhaling sharply as we set the beam down, angling it so that one end was raised on a supporting bench that had been placed there for that purpose. “And I already know full well what your second point will be.”

“Which brings me back to the question again,” I said with a chuckle as we strode back over towards the pile of wood. “When are you finally going to pick your base class? If nothing else, it would let you get stronger. Especially if you got a few levels under your belt.”

“Yes, but at the cost of losing hard-earned progress should I die,” the craftsman replied, repeating the same argument that he’d used time and time again when I asked him why he never progressed deeper into the adventuring levels. “Not to mention needing to face all of the horrific creatures that I hear you all speak of in order to progress. I am quite happy remaining a novice for as long as possible, at least until being so stunts my ability to craft and build. Then perhaps I may finally take the plunge and make a decision.”

“Which could be soon,” I said as we repeated the same process we’d just finished and grabbed another beam of the magical wood. “Soon as we hit level thirty we’ll have a chance to learn advanced tradeskills. There could be specific requirements there, such as the magic tree skills.”

“I’m certain there will be,” Léandre answered, puffing slightly as we carried the second beam to its new destination. “But at the same time, how can I be confident that any decision I make is the right one until I know what those requirements are? This is why my plan is to use you and the others as my guinea pigs to show me the most efficient path to strive for.”

“And get powerleveling from when you finally find it, right?” I asked as we placed the second beam down beside the first.

“But of course,” Léandre answered with a grin. “You know perfectly how the system works.”

“I suppose I do,” I replied, matching the man’s smile briefly with one of my own before I allowed the expression to drop, turning back towards the task at hand. “All right, what’s next?”

“Measuring and marking,” the architect said, motioning towards the bench where we’d laid out all of our parts. “Hand me the tape and charcoal?”

“Sure thing,” I replied, moving over to grab the requested items and handing over them over to the man at which point the building process rapidly picked up its pace.

Making several quick measurements of the two wooden beams and leaving several marks along their lengths, it wasn’t long until we were carefully drilling the holes that we would need for the later parts of the assembly. Once that was done, we then did the same to the various other pieces of wood that would eventually comprise the rest of the siege engine, taking both the time and the care to make sure that we did the work properly. During this time, and due largely to the large gap in our respective carpentry skills, I mostly followed Léandre’s lead, trusting that he knew what he was doing better than I did. It wasn’t until the later parts of the assembly process involving the æthertouched iron that I felt confident enough to strike off myself, leaving the man to focus on what he knew best.

Little by little, in the hour and a half that followed, the ballista slowly took shape, its rather large size growing to dominate the center floor of the workshop. Easily twice—if not closer to three times—the size of the original ballista design that Léandre and I had come with, this newer model visibly looked an order of magnitude more powerful. From the size of its arms to the size of the bolt that it would throw, everything about the weapon had been scaled up drastically. It was our hope that where the other regular-sized ballista would be able to take down a corrupted construct in two or perhaps three non-critical shots, that this new heavy ballista would be able to do it in one. But beyond just that, the weapon was our best hope in finding an answer to the massive and heavily armored siegebreaker that was steadily making its way towards us.

Because if we couldn’t, either with the weapon or by other means, there was little doubt that the creature would live up to its name, likely with disastrous consequences for us and Aldford.

“Okay, the bracing is done here, and everything else appears to be in order,” Léandre said sometime later from the head of the nearly finished siege weapon. “I think it’s time for us to add the final piece. What do you think?”

“Hell, yeah. I think it is too,” I replied enthusiastically, having been eagerly awaiting this part since I’d first seen Léandre’s design. “Want me to bring it over?”

“Please,” he replied, waving the hammer he held in its hand vaguely towards a burlap tarp covering something large just behind him. “I’ll make sure that the benches are ready for you.”

“Can do,” I said as I crossed the workshop and made my way over towards it, grabbing a corner and pulling it to the side.

Coming free easily, it was a heartbeat later that I found myself staring into the empty eye sockets of the Beast’s skull, the tarp that I’d been holding hitting the ground with a faint flap.

“And he still looks as terrifying as ever,” I commented as I took in the sight, my eyes focusing on all the teeth that still filled the deceased creature’s maw. “I can see why you covered him.”

“And also why I prefer to remain a crafter, too: so I can be safe and far away from monsters such as this,” Léandre replied in a dry tone.

“I definitely can’t blame you there,” I said, taking a quick breath as I mustered up a surge of courage and took a step forward to duck into the skull’s open maw, making sure to avoid the still razor-sharp teeth in the process.

Measuring a little over four and a half feet in height and nearly half again that in width, the Beast’s skull was far from a small thing, and I couldn’t help but feel an anxious itch briefly crawl across my skin as I stepped inside of it. But it was due to that rather large size and corresponding weight that I had to in the first place, the inside of its mouth being the best position to lift it from without the need for additional help. Placing my hands and shoulder carefully against the roof of its mouth, I quickly positioned my legs under me and pushed upwards, slowly lifting the skull from its resting place. From there, I took slow and measured steps towards Léandre and the waiting ballista, making sure that I didn’t overbalance myself by moving too fast. Thankfully, there was only a short distance to travel before I arrived where I needed to be, the other man standing at the ready beside a pair of the adjustable benches he’d spoken of earlier.

“That should be good for positioning,” he said as I maneuvered both myself and the skull into place in front of the siege weapon. “Now lift as high as you are able, and I will get these in place.”

Doing as the man instructed, it was a few seconds later that I was able to set the skull down on the two perfectly placed benches and crawl out from under it, the itchy crawling sensation of being inside the Beast’s maw mercifully fading away. From there, we proceeded with the process of mounting the skull onto the nearly finished siege engine, exchanging a few comments as we did so.

“You know,” Léandre said at one point from the opposite end of the machine, “when I originally drafted this design, I was worried that adding the skull to this would perhaps look slightly…hm. I’m not sure what the best word is. Tacky? Perhaps too cliché? But seeing it now in practice, I think it looks quite fearsome.”

“So do I,” I replied as I shifted to take a look at the skull from nearly head-on. It had been wired open so that every bolt fired from the ballista would have to pass through its open maw before continuing toward its target. “And besides, even if it is a little bit cliché, the day that we decide that we can’t put a badass-looking skull on an equally badass-looking weapon is the day that we stop having fun for good.”

“That is all too true,” Léandre stated with a chuckle. “And being able to find the fun and joy in life is what keeps a soul young. Without it, there is no purpose to anything.”

“Amen to that,” I agreed, giving the now nearly finished weapon one more long glance before checking back in with the man. “Anyway, how are things coming over there? Almost done?”

“Just about,” he replied. “One final mounting point to secure and then I believe we will be done here. Do you want to ready yourself for the final touch?”

“Oh, and how,” I said, feeling a surge of excitement shoot through me at the thought. “Though, are you sure that you’re okay if I do it? I don’t want to steal any of your thunder.”

“Pah,” the craftsman grunted in a dismissive tone. “Rest assured that it will not be stolen in the slightest. In fact, if yesterday was any indication, I think you are better suited for such things than I am.”

“I’ll make sure to do my best,” I replied, my earlier excitement only increasing as I stepped away from the siege engine and walked towards the workbench, which was now notably bare, save for a single wooden box resting on top of it.

Gazing into the container as I arrived at the bench, I was greeted by a faint crimson glow emanating from it, both Garr and I having realized late yesterday that it was the perfect finishing touch for our project. Letting an eager grin cross my face as I reached into the box, I easily took hold of the half ethereal, half-spongey mass within and lifted out the large, crimson-colored essence, its description appearing the center of my vision.

[Greater Essence of Ferocity]

One of our many treasures from after we’d managed to kill the Beast, the essence, along with all the others that we’d found, had always been at the back of my mind, their purposes a complete mystery until Garr had taught us essence melding. Since then, Léandre and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the uses for all the essences that we’d accumulated over the last month, wondering just what sorts of benefits or abilities that they would confer on an item after melding.

Or better yet, what sort of benefits it would confer onto something such as the ballista we were crafting.

Well, here goes nothing, I thought as I shifted my grip on the grapefruit-sized essence and turned back towards the siege weapon, already feeling hints of its presence brush my mind. This was the first time that I’d ever be working with a greater essence—something that Garr had told both Léandre and me was an order of magnitude more difficult to master and meld than a regular essence.

But not impossible, I reminded myself as I found myself a place to stand directly in front of the Beast’s skull before calling out to Léandre.

“All right, I’m all set over there,” I said while glancing between both the essence and the empty eye sockets above me. “Let me know when I can start.”

“In just a moment,” he replied, his voice trailing off as it shifted into a grunt followed by a loud click of metal on metal. “I just need to pull…ah! There it is! The skull should be firmly affixed now. You can begin whenever you wish.”

“Great,” I echoed back, exhaling a sharp breath as I shook out my arms to loosen them up. “Here goes nothing.”

With those words then hovering in the air, I turned my gaze downward and focused my attention on the swirling ball of energy I held, bringing my will to bear upon it as Garr had taught me, instantly feeling the essence respond. Attacking me with a wicked ferocity that belied its name, I felt something from within the orb reach out and attempt to claw through my mind. Flinching at the sheer power behind the sensation, I nearly dropped the essence in response before I caught myself, my body’s fight or flight response triggering on a level that I’d never felt previously. Struggling to hold on, a cacophony of roaring, barking, and hissing, mixed in with countless other sounds and emotions to accompany them, then washed over me, flooding my thoughts completely.

In the moments that followed, I found myself gripped with the desire to swipe at things with claws that I didn’t have or to bite into flesh with teeth that weren’t there. The emotions and desires changed as quickly as they appeared, vanishing into the maelstrom of energy that defined the very concept of ferocity. Had I been any less prepared for the overwhelming assault on my mind, I might have very well lost myself in the meld for ages until I managed to pull myself out of it. But instead, I allowed the essence to do its worst, gritting my teeth as I weathered the storm.

Then, when I was sure that I’d met—and survived—the worst that it had to offer, I collected my will and began the process of taming ferocity itself.

Fighting back against sheer savagery raging through my mind, I worked on channeling the energies that they each represented into something manageable. Into something that I could control. But as I did so, I got the sense that willing them to stop as I’d done with the Essence of Celerity wasn’t the right track to take. So instead, I redirected them away from me as if I were leading a stubborn animal by the nose in the direction that I wanted. As I did that, I also worked to dig my fingers into the orb, my nails somehow finding purchase in the spongey mass and sinking deep into it. Losing track of time as I repeated the process endlessly, I eventually felt the energies settle, enough so that I could begin pulling it apart. Fighting me as I did so, the essence tried to resist the process, but it had already succumbed too far to make it anything more than a token effort.

The orb came apart in my hands with a vague tearing sensation, shooting up my arms as it turned into countless strands of energy, moving to swirl around my hands. Unable to help but smile at my success, I slowly reached up towards the skull, placing one hand on what had once been its snout. Reacting instantly as I touched the coarse bone, the essence then practically leapt from me, flowing into it without even a conscious thought. Surprised by the reaction, I hesitated for second before placing my second hand beside the first, the momentary pause serving me well because as I did so, the skull’s jaws abruptly snapped shut. Letting out a loud yelp in response to the sudden movement, I recoiled away several steps from the weapon, the primal fear of when I’d actually faced the ferocious creature in combat suddenly surging up inside me.

But despite my movement, the limited contact had been enough for the essence to also leap into the weapon, causing the entirety of it to begin to glow with a shroud crimson energy that rapidly grew brighter until it vanished from sight. Squinting from the sudden light, I brought up a hand to partially shield my eyes, refusing to take them off the shifting silhouette I saw within. Lasting for several seconds, I stared in wonder until the energy finally began to dissipate, revealing the ballista once more.

“W-whoa,” I whispered with a mixture of both fear and awe as I looked up towards the machine, feeling my heart skip a beat as I unexpectedly found it staring back at me, the once empty eye sockets of the skull now blazing with crimson light.

But as I took in the weapon’s new appearance, I realized that the eyes were far from the only thing that had changed. Sporting a dark pattern similar to when it had been alive, a series of dark grey and black patches now crossed the once-bare skull, giving it the illusion that it was covered in scales. Yet as my eyes continued to roam, I found that the scale pattern didn’t simply end at the skull but stretched to include both the æthertouched oak and metal, the whole ballista itself having turned darker, so much so that it vaguely resembled a living thing. But for all the physical changes that the siege engine had undergone, it was the last and final thing that I noticed that caused a tendril of fear to crawl down my back and that was the presence that it now had. Where before it was simply a collection of wood, bone, and metal, after the meld, I now sensed a menacing aura emanating from the machine, one that reminded me of what I felt when I had first stared down the Beast.

“Whoa indeed,” I heard Léandre’s voice echo out from beside the machine as he came into view, his presence breaking the spell that had fallen over me. “It looks beautiful. Terrifying, too. Better than anything I could have ever imagined.”

“Y-you could say that again,” I replied as I shifted to look over towards the man, trying to figure out exactly what to say next. But before I could find the words that I was looking for, my train of thought was interrupted by an exuberant fanfare that played in my ears, followed by a series of notifications flashing in my vision.

You have created a Unique Item!

The Beast (Unique Heavy Ballista)

Slot: Siege Weapon

Item Class: Unique

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Damage: Wooden Bolt: 1095-1690 (Piercing)

Iron Bolt: 1405-2815 (Piercing)

Æthertouched Iron Bolt: 1875-3750 (Piercing)

Durability: 1500/1500

Weight: 420 kg

Item Level: 29

Research Enhancements:

Improved Damage: Base damage increased by 25%

Improved Durability: Base durability increased by 50%

Improved Range: Base range increased by 50%

Special: Greater Essence of Ferocity – Channeling the power of ferocity itself, attacks made with this weapon gain +15% Critical Strike Chance and have a chance to deal up to an additional +50% Bonus Damage on a critical hit.

Unique Effect: Terror – Whenever the Beast lands a critical hit or kills its target, all living things within 15 feet of its victim are afflicted by a primal fear. This causes the afflicted to either flee from the victim for up to 1 minute or be afflicted by the [Shaken] debuff, suffering a 10% reduction to all attributes for 5 minutes.

Objective Completed! Craft a level twenty-nine Mastercraft quality item: 1/1

Quest Completed! Blacksmithing: Becoming a Journeyman (Tradeskill)

Your skill in Blacksmithing has increased to Level 30!

Congratulations! You have completed the Apprentice crafting tier in Blacksmithing and have earned the right to call yourself a Journeyman Blacksmith! You can now access the Crafting Mastery tree for the Blacksmithing tradeskill where you can begin to refine, enhance, and eventually specialize your skills.

This can be done by earning and spending Crafting Skill Points to gain bonuses to specific aspects of the crafting process. Crafting Skill Points can be earned by crafting high quality or unique items, dismantling and studying items beyond your skill level, gaining tutoring from a higher leveled master, or by studying rare crafting tomes to further enhance your knowledge.

“We did it,” I said as I finally finished scanning over the wall of text and focused my attention on Léandre, having heard a gasp echo out from the man at the same moment that it had appeared.

“So we did,” he replied quietly, both relief and excitement coloring his voice as he spoke. “And it is better than anything I’d ever thought. Have you seen it yet? The mastery tree?”

“Not yet,” I said, having temporarily forgotten about the new progression tree that had become available to us at the journeyman tier in the middle of all the excitement, shifting my focus to check it.

Crafting Mastery: Blacksmithing

Personal:

Deft Hand – Reduce the time needed to craft an item by 5%. 0/5

Efficient Crafter – Reduce the total materials needed to craft an item and gain more materials from salvaging an item. 0/5

Journeyman Trade Mastery – Slightly decreases the difficulty of crafting Journeyman Tier and below Blacksmithing items. 0/10.

Technique:

Improved Durability – Increase the total durability of a crafted item by 5%. 0/5

Improved Armor – Increase the total armor provided by crafted armor by 3%. 0/5

Improved Attributes – Increase each primary attribute on a crafted item by 4 and each secondary attribute by 2. 0/5

Improved Damage – Increase total damage of a crafted weapon by 2%. 0/5

“You were right,” I said as I finished reading over the mastery tree with awe. “Now we can really get to work.”

Chapter 58

“Loose!” Léandre’s voice shouted, prompting me to pull the trigger on the ballista I was standing behind, the massive device bucking backward slightly as it launched its bolt straight into the air.

“Looks good to me!” I called back to the man as I followed the rapidly shrinking object as it sailed down the range we’d set up before crashing into the ground, throwing up a cloud of dirt to mark its landing. “Flew straight and was right on target!”

“That is what I saw as well,” the craftsman agreed, his hand reaching out to pat the machine affectionately before motioning me onwards. “This one is good. Onto the next.”

Shifting over from the siege engine, we stepped over to the next ballista in line a short distance away. Well-practiced with the process now, I knew full well what to do next, my hand finding the crank to begin cocking the weapon. Falling in beside me as I did so, Léandre went about inspecting the machine, his eyes scanning over the various pieces that comprised it. Seeing nothing to warrant having me stop cranking, the man then shuffled to the opposite side of me, sliding a large practice bolt into place.

“Everything looks in order,” he announced after I’d finished priming the siege engine, taking a step back to stand clear. “Loose!”

Pulling the trigger at the familiar command word, the machine promptly bucked much like the other one had, sending its quarrel soaring high into the air and down the range. But unlike the other ballista, the launch was accompanied by the combined sound of something snapping and cracking at the same time, earning a curse from the both of us.

“Damn,” I grunted with a wince. “That sounded all kinds of bad.”

“The release mechanism most likely,” Léandre replied with a sigh as he stepped towards the machine and dropped down to his knees, wasting no time in crawling under it. “Hrm, yes, as I thought. Shattered. It will have to be replaced completely.”

“How about the frame itself?” I asked, crouching down so I could see the man. “That—”

“—sounded pretty bad!” Thorne’s voice suddenly called out from behind me. “We heard it on the way here. Is everything okay?”

Startling at the unexpected noise, I turned to look over my shoulder and spotted both the dwarf and Halcyon walking towards us with an expression of concern written across each of their faces.

“We’re fine,” I called back, waving to the pair as they approached. “Just a technical malfunction. We’re testing a few of the ballista we managed to save from Valor’s Point. Looks like this one had a little bit more battle damage than we thought.”

“Bah,” Thorne grunted sympathetically. “Oh, well. Better to find out now and here, rather than in the middle of battle.”

“My thoughts precisely,” Léandre replied as he crawled out from under the ballista, holding a collection of broken wood in his hand. “Regardless, however, we’ll have to take this one back to the workshop to repair and check over fully before we can mark it as ready.”

“I don’t mind pushing it back,” I offered, my attention shifting over towards Thorne and Halcyon. “Am I right in taking that the both of you are here is because you managed to catch Hal up?”

“We are,” Thorne stated, inclining his head towards the mage who looked slightly overwhelmed as well as completely exhausted. “Showed him everything he needs to know to get right into the swing of things except the actual melding process.”

“Great! In that case, I think it’s time we traded off,” I said, glancing back towards Léandre. “I have a few things I need to finish up back at the workshop myself, then I need to get back into the foundry.”

“Yes, your melding and armor,” he answered with a nod, well aware of my plan for the day. “I will find you later when I’ve sorted my own tasks. Though if you can find one once you return to the hall, see if you can’t have one of my apprentices look at fixing this contraption. Any one of them should be able to handle it themselves.”

“Sure thing,” I replied, motioning for Halcyon to help me push it back.

“Good. That will save us both time that we can spend elsewhere,” the architect said graciously, the four of us then going our own ways, which for Halcyon and I happened to be back to Aldford while pushing the broken siege engine between us.

“So how’s the day been going on your end?” I asked Halcyon as we started to move. “Are you all nearly done with the wards?”

“God, I wish,” the mage replied with a sigh, his head shaking from side to side as he spoke. “Now that we have the æthertouched iron to work with, we’re making even more of them than we had before. Not only do they last longer than the plain iron version, but they’re also a hell of a lot more durable. Something that I imagine will be useful when the orcs are actively trying to break them.”

“Without a doubt,” I agreed, word of us finally being able to properly forge the magic metal having wasted no time at all in making its way throughout Aldford, so much so that now practically everyone wanted something crafted out of it for their use. The demand had in fact risen so much so that I expected Léandre’s and my next task, at least besides raiding the Irovian tower for more of the buried metal, would be to figure out how to smelt it ourselves.

Which if figuring out how to forge the metal was any indication of how tricky it might be, is going to end up being its own fun process to discover, I thought dryly, already feeling a vague sense of trepidation about the idea. Oh, well. As I always say, that’s a problem for Future Lyrian.

Continuing to talk between ourselves as we pushed the broken siege engine back towards Aldford, I was able to get a general progress update of everything that he, Garr, and their respective groups of spellcasters had collectively been working on.

“So these healing and mana totems that Garr and his group are making for us are nothing short of amazing,” he said as he described their work. “They’re both fairly inconspicuous things that anyone is able to activate and then plop down into the ground, and they’ll last for five minutes afterward. In the case of the healing totem, it’ll heal up to fifteen people within thirty feet of it for two hundred hit points every five seconds, dividing excess healing if there are fewer people between everyone up to a cap of three-fifty. It also restores half of whatever it heals to stamina too, which will definitely be a big boost during long fights.”

“In the case of the mana totems, which I think you’ll come to love, they give a flat hundred and fifty mana every five seconds also to fifteen people within range, rather than an outright boost to regeneration. This one caps out at a maximum of two hundred and fifty mana every five seconds if there aren’t enough people to max out its ability.”

“Damn,” I replied, unable to help shake my head at Halcyon’s description. “That’s even better than what I’d hoped based on Garr’s description. That could make a huge difference.”

“Without a doubt,” the mage agreed, a smile appearing across his face as he spoke. “But that’s not even the best part. The gronn also have another pair of totems they’re crafting for us—one called a ‘tranquility totem’ and the other a ‘tenacity totem’. They each give plus thirty to Intelligence and Willpower or the same to Strength and Agility depending on the version, with the same ranges and limits as the others, except they don’t scale upwards if there’re too few people around.”

“Wow, that’s amazing!” I replied, feeling my eyes nearly boggle at the description. “How many of those can we get made before the orcs get there?”

“Enough to be used sparingly,” Halcyon said, his earlier excited tone fading somewhat. “Unfortunately, crafting each of those totems requires an essence of the same name, and we’ve only managed to get a handful of each so far. So we’re going to really need to pick and choose when we use them.”

“Bah, fair enough, though,” I said with a grimace, tempering my earlier expectations somewhat. “In either case, they’ll be a godsend when we do need them.”

“Without a doubt,” the mage stated, pausing for a second before moving on. “Anyway, past those fiddly bits, we’re making slow—and I mean near glacial—progress in figuring out a way to interface the security servitor with the tree’s matrix. Our biggest problem is that it wasn’t designed to ever do something like this, and that also the stupid thing isn’t exactly clear in answering our questions.”

“Hrm, do you think it’s something worth pursuing at all?” I asked, a little concerned just where this experimentation might be going and if the time couldn’t be spent better elsewhere. “Because while I know it might be a time crunch before the orcs get here, my memory crystal only has a couple more days left in it. Maybe I’ll be able to add my own insight to interfacing with the matrix right after I finish absorbing it.”

“Honestly, we hope that’ll be the case,” Halcyon replied, nodding his head as he spoke. “But given the tight timelines, we’re hoping to hedge our bets in case we actually do run out of time, or if in the odd chance the crystal comes up blank with what we’re trying to do. That way we at least have some progress.”

“I guess that’s probably the smart way to do it,” I said, unable to fault that logic. “Do you know what sort of spell or support we could count on if you’re able to tap into the ley line’s magic? A few giant fireballs would definitely go a long way to evening the odds…”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” the mage answered with a chuckle. “But I’m afraid offensive stuff like that isn’t on the cards. At least not yet. There are just too many variables in actually getting the hostile magic to where it needs to be without accidentally burning half the town down.

“What we think we can do though,” he said, pausing for a second to catch his breath, “is scale up a few defensive spells that are naturally mana hungry—such as Force Shield—and give Aldford another line of defense, but from higher up. We’d be able to keep the orcs from raining magic or siege weaponry into the town pretty much indefinitely.”

“Now that would solve a lot of our problems and make things loads easier on us,” I replied, the mage’s words having hit hard on a particular fear of mine. “The less damage that they can do to the town, the less chance we have at losing the respawn point. Because if that happens…”

“Then we’re as good as fucked,” Halcyon finished with a shake of his head.

“Pretty much,” I agreed, not wanting to entertain the thought of what I’d do if I found myself respawning back in Coldscar or Eberia.

“We’ll just need to make sure that doesn’t happen then,” Halcyon said, taking that opportunity to change the subject. “In either case though, that’s about all I have on my end of things. How about you? I’ve heard a few rumors flying around town about a new ballista that you and Léandre made, but I’m not entirely sure if I should be believing them.”

“Ha. That all depends on what they’re saying,” I replied, flashing a wide grin towards the man as I began to update him on everything that I’d been up to since the morning.

Starting first with the subject at hand, I assured Halcyon that we had indeed crafted the Beast and that rumors flying around the town were, in fact, completely true. Once the mage had managed to collect himself in the minutes afterward, I pressed on to give him an outline of what crafting at level thirty was like, both Léandre and I having spent the better part of the day in the foundry.

“—crafting at level thirty is loads harder and more time consuming than it had been before—” I told Halcyon as we walked our payload into Léandre’s workshop, where it would stay until I could flag down one of his apprentices to come and fix it. “If I didn’t know better, I’d almost call everything pre-level thirty a ‘tutorial’ of sorts, just so those who are interested in crafting wouldn’t get discouraged.”

“Well, that’d kinda make sense a little bit, right?” Halcyon replied, breathing a sigh of relief as we came to a stop, a hand coming up to rub a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You don’t want to discourage anyone wanting to learn to craft too early, but you also want to hook them on the potential of it as you ramp up the difficulty.”

“Oh, I get the logic all right, I’m just grousing a bit that it’s going to take me even more time to keep it up, especially as I try and work my way up so I can craft even better things for you all,” I said as I motioned for the man to follow me towards the rear of the room. “Which is actually the reason why I asked for your help—and Caius’s help earlier. Now that we know how to do it, I need to get you all trained on how to essence meld so that you know how to manage it yourselves. That way, you can customize your own gear as you see fit…and also so I can farm out work your way. I just don’t have the time to do everything anymore.”

“I’m happy to help any way I can, Lyr,” Halcyon replied as he moved to follow me. “And I’m eager to learn how to meld, too. It’s been killing me that I haven’t had the chance to yet from the others. Apparently, Caius said something about it taking a long time to learn?”

“Sort of,” I said, having decided not to hide the fact that the first meld could be a bit of a time-consuming thing to figure out. “It really depends on how quickly you can get the hang of it, but it can be anywhere from two to four hours to figure out. After that, things get much easier.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Halcyon said in an easygoing tone as I angled us towards a table filled with an assortment of items, along with a row of heavily laden armor racks beside it, including one that had been obviously made for a giant puma.

“Whoa, now this looks promising,” he said excitedly as we approached. “Are these all made out of æthertouched iron?”

“Pretty much,” I replied as I glanced over everything, the dark metal gleaming in the light of the room. “With me being level thirty in blacksmithing, it’s pretty much my only option to work with until I can catch up with leatherworking. So, until then, I hope you have strong legs, cause this round of gear is a little heavier than normal.”

“Oh, I’ll think I’ll find a way to manage,” Halcyon said as he stepped closer to inspect one of the suits of armor, his body abruptly stiffening part of the way. “Oh. Oh, wow. This one must be yours.”

“You’d be right on that,” I said, smiling at his reaction. “Level thirty gear might be a pain to craft, but damn if it isn’t worth it. I made a similar suit of armor for Amaranth, too.”

“You’re not wrong there,” Halcyon replied as he partially recovered from his surprise, his attention still fixated on the armor as he no doubt read over its description for a second time. Happy to give the man time to do so, I decided to pull up the description myself while I waited, just so I could marvel over my efforts once again.

Ætheric Skirmisher’s Armor Set (Essence Melded: Greater Celerity)

Slots: Arm, Chest, Feet, Hands, Legs, Head, Shoulders

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Average (+0%)

Armor: 600

Set Bonus: (7/7)

Strength: +36 Agility: +48 Intelligence: +12

Armor Type: Light

Weight: 10 kg

Special: Ætherforged – The potency and duration of any harmful magical effects directed against the wearer is reduced by 15%, consequently any beneficial effects and durations are increased by the same amount respectively.

Special: Greater Essence of Celerity – Channeling the power of speed itself, this suit of armor feels nearly weightless, allowing its wearer to move effortlessly, granting +10% Movement Speed and +10% Attack Speed.

Favored Class: Any Martial

Level: 30

“This is amazing, man,” Halcyon continued as he finished reading the description once again, his head moving to look over towards the puma-sized armor set beside it, which bore identical stats. “I knew we’d have a power boost once we hit level thirty, but this? The base attributes have doubled, and I finally see a third one on it! Plus the meld itself…”

Finding himself at a loss for further words as he trailed off, the mage simply made an excited dancing motion with his body that lasted for a handful of seconds until a second spark of realization crossed his face.

“Wait, shit!” he said as he came to a sudden stop. “If the gear has these sorts of stats and power creep, what does that mean for when we hit our advanced classes?”

“I’ve been turning over the same question too, ever since I made the first piece and the stats myself,” I replied with a smile that was quickly joined by a shrug. “In either case, I hope to find out soon. After our little rush through Khudazal, I’ve been sitting practically a stone’s throw away from level twenty-nine. I’m hoping that I can maybe get some free time to make the leap before the orcs get here and pen us in for good.”

“That would be nice, and I’m not that far behind either,” Halcyon said in an envious tone. “I think that with this gear and enough of us wearing it, we might be able to cause some trouble that the orcs won’t be able to stand up to. If nothing else, it’d even the odds for later.”

“That might worth doing if we have a good enough opportunity, especially once we have Lionheart and Legion to help us out,” I said, agreeing fully with the mage’s logic. “I’ll bring up the point to Freya next time we chat. Maybe there’ll be something we can take advantage of.

“But in the meantime,” I added, taking that opportunity to wave the man over towards one of the nearby tables, “the armor isn’t the only gear that we have waiting for us. Thanks to the melding, I’ve finally been able to add attribute bonuses to both belts and cloaks, not to mention the special effect of the essence as well. We can finally start filling those slots with something useful now!”

“Seriously?” Halcyon asked, his earlier excitement rushing back to the forefront. “That’s great! That’s been another puzzle we’ve been trying to figure out for a while now, too!”

“You’re telling me,” I said, knowing full well of all our trial and error in trying to enchant equipment to fill those two accessory slots, but to no avail.

The regular process that we’d used with the æther to enchant our equipment hadn’t ever worked in creating cloaks or belts with attribute bonuses on it. Instead, all that the process had done was simply create a magic belt or cloak, but with no tangible benefits to it. But with the discovery of essence melding, I’d finally been able to find a solution to the problem, being able to apply the bonuses that the essence conferred onto the item.

“My theory is that the game was essentially level-gating the discovery as so not to overwhelm us,” I said while pointing out all the various shirts, belts, and cloaks that I’d enchanted for the group for Halcyon to look at, two of their descriptions appearing in my vision in the process.

Serpentscale Tunic (Essence Melded: Lesser Celerity)

Slot: Under Layer - (Chest, Arms, Shoulders)

Item Class: Common

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Armor: 50

Agility: +4

Special: Essence of Lesser Celerity – Channeling the power of speed itself, this tunic allows its wearer to move effortlessly and quickly, granting +2% Movement Speed and +2% Attack Speed.

Durability: 120/120

Weight: 1 kg

Favored Class: Any

Level: 25

Serpentscale Belt (Essence Melded: Lesser Celerity)

Slot: Waist

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Agility: +4

Special: Essence of Lesser Celerity – Channeling the power of speed itself, this belt allows its wearer to move effortlessly and quickly, granting +2% Movement Speed and +2% Attack Speed.

Favored Class: Any Martial

Level: 25

Serpentscale Cloak (Essence Melded: Lesser Serenity)

Slot: Waist

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Mastercraft (+20%)

Armor: 30

Intelligence: +4

Special: Essence of Lesser Serenity – Channeling the power of peace and thoughtfulness, this cloak allows its wearer to easily focus their mind, granting +4% Mana Regeneration.

Favored Class: Any Arcane

Level: 25

“So far, we’ve been able to fill all the core slots through crafting because they’re linked to all the major tradeskills,” I continued to speak, dismissing the item descriptions from my vision. “But even then, we’ve only been able to take them so far. With essence melding now, we can buff our armor and weapons up another level and make use of the two new equipment slots as well.”

“That makes sense to me,” Halcyon replied, nodding along with my explanation as he inspected everything on the table. “Now all we need to do is figure out how to learn one of the advanced tradeskills, like enchanting or runecrafting. Then maybe we can finally fill out all our jewelry slots with something useful. Like that ring you found.”

“I hope so too,” I agreed. “And I’m thinking too it’ll let us do another round of enhancements to these belts and cloaks.”

“You think so?” the man asked, glancing over towards me with an inquisitive glance. “What makes you think that?”

“A bit of a hunch combined with the fact that I was able to essence meld my own cloak, which already had an enchantment on it,” I answered, waving a hand towards my fur mantle that I’d left piled in the corner of the table, its description also helpfully springing to life as my eyes landed on it.

Fur Mantle of Swiftness (Essence Melded: Lesser Celerity)

Slot: Back

Item Class: Magical

Item Quality: Good (+15%)

Armor: 30

Agility: +8

Durability: 80/80

Base Material: Fur

Weight: 1 kg

Special: Essence of Lesser Celerity – Channeling the power of speed itself, this cloak allows its wearer to move effortlessly and quickly, granting +2% Movement Speed and +2% Attack Speed.

Favored Class: Any Martial

Level: 25

“Huh,” Halcyon grunted as he read over the description himself and looked back towards me. “Then, we definitely better pick up those tradeskills as soon as we can. If we have all of these small incremental bonuses available to us now across even more gear slots, that means the game is going to expect us to use them.”

“That’s my thought too,” I said, having realized as well that if we were getting substantially stronger as we entered into level thirty and beyond that so too would our enemies. “But as I like to say, perhaps maybe far too often, that’s a problem for future us. Present us has one more set of goodies to look at before we get back to work.”

“There’s more?” Halcyon replied, his eyes lighting up once again at the word despite a brief wave of confusion passing across his face. “What could possibly—oh, you mean weapons.”

“That I do,” I said as I angled the bewildered mage towards a small weapon rack that bore about a dozen various types of weaponry. “Specifically, the weapons that we recovered from the behir nest. I was able to clean them and fix them up pretty nicely, as well as add in a bit of æthertouched iron to replace the rusted metal that didn’t quite survive the trip through the monster’s stomach.”

“Ooh, these all look great!” Halcyon exclaimed as he looked over the rack, his eye scanning over each of them in sequence. “Ah, it looks like only this sword here is melded?”

“That one’s mine, and so far, yeah,” I replied, taking that opportunity to glance at the weapon, seeing its description flash across my vision.

Savagery (Essence Melded – Greater Ferocity)

Slot: Main Hand

Item Class: Relic

Item Quality: Fine (+10%)

Damage: 70-95 (Slashing)

Strength: +36 Agility: +36 Intelligence: +10

Durability: 240/240

Weight: 1.5 kg

Class: Any Martial

Level: 30

Special: Æthertouched – The potency of any magical spells or magic-based traits channeled through this weapon are increased by 15%.

Special: Greater Essence of Ferocity – Channeling the power of ferocity itself, the wielder of this weapon gains +5% Critical Strike Chance and +15% Critical Hit Bonus Damage on all attacks with this weapon.

“Dang. Well, it looks hot, man,” Halcyon commented, his eyes continuing to scan over the other weapons. “The orcs are gonna regret being on the end of that thing!”

“I have no doubt,” I replied with a grin, taking that opportunity to motion towards the rack. “But speaking of the rest of this being all unmelded, that’s going to be your job to sort out once we have you trained. By the time you’re done with this, you’ll have the process down pat.”

“That works for me!” the mage replied eagerly as he finally managed to pull his eyes away from the array of weaponry and turn back towards me. “After seeing all this, I’m itching to get started.”

“Well, itch no more,” I said with a chuckle, motioning for Halcyon to follow me over to Léandre’s workbench where I’d set up a few pieces of equipment and essences. “So the first step to this process…”

Chapter 59

“Okay, whoa, whoa, whoa! You all need to slow down and start from the beginning here,” I said with my hands raised as I glanced between Garr and Caius, the pair both looking wide-eyed and excited as they stared back at both me and Amaranth. “Because you’re both talking over one another and far too fast for me to have a hope of following.”

“Sorry, Lyr,” Caius replied somewhat sheepishly, glancing at the gronn who simply nodded back at him in response. “Okay, so starting at the beginning. We just heard from Senzin. He finally reached out to Garr via astral projection and gave us an update. About scared the hell out of all of us in the process too. One minute we’re working away, then the next, there’s a ghost lizard talking to us.”

“That much I was able to get,” I said in a dry tone, unable to help but mentally picture that scene as I signaled for the two to follow me, having been caught by them on my way out of the crafting hall. “So what did he have to say? And also, if we can walk and talk while you catch me up, that’d be great. I was just on my way to the gates to meet up with Freya, Aldwin, and a few of the others. The new guilds are due to arrive really any minute now, and I want to be there to greet them.”

“Shit, is it that late already?” Caius asked with a note of surprise, his eyes losing their focus for a second as he checked the time. “Whoa, it’s almost nine. Okay, sure thing, it’s probably best we filled in them in as well too.

“Anyway, though,” the warlock continued as we all started to move, Garr trading places with Amaranth to flank me on one side while he took the other. “After we got over his unexpected arrival, we were able to have to a brief chat and get caught up on what’s happened to them since we parted ways, which in their case has been a fair bit. Hence the reason why they haven’t been able to reach out to us sooner.”

“It must have been,” I commented as the four of us exited the crafting hall and stepped out into Aldford proper, the night air mercifully cool compared to the heat and humidity within the building. “I mean, it’s been what, four, nearly five, days since we were at Khudazal? And they had a shorter route to travel than we did.”

“So they did,” Caius affirmed. “But apparently, they ran into a hell of a lot more trouble than we did on the way home because after they managed to blight their garden, they had to pretty much fight their way back into the fens nonstop. Apparently, Sthera’s minions, corrupted undead monsters of some sort, were faster to react and chase them than the orcs were to chase us.”

“Shit,” I replied as I twisted my head to look at the elf. “So what does that mean for all the slaves that escaped into the fens?”

“It means that they were lost or recaptured,” Garr answered from the other side of me, Caius’s lips pursing close together as he nodded in agreement. “At least those who were not a part of Aryana’s group, or those she rescued during their escape. Also, according to Senzin’s words, none of the prisoners from the northern slave camp have been seen thus far. Though whether that is because they failed to escape to begin with or were caught or killed afterward is an answer only known by Fate.”

“I see,” I said, feeling my heart fall at the news, my mind wondering if there was something that we could have done to have changed that particular outcome during our raid. But that train of thought only lasted for a few seconds before coming to an abrupt end.

It’s a hollow thing to say, but there was nothing more we could have done, I thought with a shake of my head as we continued to walk through Aldford, our conversation briefly lapsing. As it is, we barely escaped with blighting the garden. Had we split ourselves up even further, we’d have ended up all getting killed without accomplishing anything.

“Unfortunately, that was also only the beginning of the news that Senzin had for us,” Garr eventually continued in a reserved tone after we passed a large group of exhausted-looking adventurers who were all covered in thick smears of dirt and ash, clearly having been among those fighting the orcs all day. “He went on to tell us that their escape prompted another push from among the arakissi clans allied with Sthera—enough so that it has cost them two of their closest bases in quick succession. When he spoke to us, he said that they were currently fleeing with what was left of their forces back towards one of their larger cities where they hoped they would be able to make a stand.”

“Damn, that’s even worse than I thought,” I commented, feeling that we might have gotten the better end of the deal in only needing to worry about the Dread Crew and the orcs.

“So it is,” Garr agreed. “However, as bleak as this may sound, Senzin mentioned that he did have some hope. Apparently, those we saw with him—Trivium and the other arakissi—are looking to rally other adventurers within the fens and align them against Sthera’s advance. From what he’s said, there are quite a number of them within the swamp.”

“So I’ve heard as well,” I replied with a nod, recalling from my own research of various feeds that the fens had been a popular destination for Eberian adventurers looking to escape the Coldscar area and continue deeper into the continent. “Hopefully, they’ll be able to get the help they need. Did he happen to say anything about Sthera herself? Is she pushing forward along with her minions like Zhul is with us?”

“I asked him the same thing, and Senzin’s reply was that they think she is, if only because of how many of her minions are around,” Caius answered with a shake of his head. “But they aren’t completely sure since they haven’t physically seen her take the field against them.”

“Huh, well that’s helpful,” I grunted, feeling a little frustrated and worried at that particular lack of information. “Was there anything else that he said? Anything more about Aryana or our people that went with them?”

“Unfortunately, nothing more than word that they’re still alive and are fleeing deeper into the fens with them,” Garr answered. “Senzin only had a short opportunity to pass along his message, and we had to speak quickly before he was forced to depart. The only other words he left us with was that he would try to reach out to us sometime soon if they could. But also that if we don’t hear from them within a week’s time, then to assume the worst.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I stated as I glanced towards the ground, completely unsure of what we would do if that came to pass. Marching blind into swampland was among the last things that I ever wanted to do, especially when said swampland contained powerful undead creatures. But the downside of not doing that could result in allowing Sthera and the other Heralds of Riius to achieve their goals in the fens—whatever it was that they happened to be.

“In either case, I guess it’s good to have some sort of update on how things have been going for them,” I continued after a few seconds of thought, my attention shifting back upwards as our short trek across the down reached its final leg with Aldford’s southern gate coming into view ahead of us. “It’s better at least than being in the dark, and I guess it explains why we haven’t heard from Trivium and the others, either in-game or offline.”

“That it does,” Caius agreed as we drew close enough to the town’s entrance to spot Aldwin, Dyre, and Freya waiting beside it, the group talking between one another to pass the time. “Hopefully, though, once they make it to whatever this city is that they’re heading to, they’ll have the time to send us a more comprehensive update. Or if not, during one of their rest cycles which should be coming up soon.”

“Hopefully,” I repeated, trying my best to project a wave of optimism that I wasn’t sure I truly felt as we approached. “In any case, I appreciate the heads up. Unfortunately, while it doesn’t look like we can do much to help them right now, at least we have an idea of what’s going on now.”

“Yeah, if nothing else, it’s better than still being blind,” the dark elf replied as we reached the gate, the others looking towards us as they noticed our arrival.

“Hey, you finally made it,” Freya said by way of greeting, a curious look appearing on her face as she saw our expressions. “And what’s better than being blind?”

“Hearing from Senzin,” Caius answered. “Garr and I were just filling Lyrian in, but he finally reached out to us a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” the woman replied, her eyes widening at the news. “Then I’m guessing based on what I see on your faces that he didn’t exactly have good news, did he?”

“It wasn’t the worst, but it certainly could have been a bit better,” I said as I glanced around for the others who I knew were supposed to be here with us. “But before we get into that, where are Constantine and Drace? It’ll save us another retelling.”

“They’re right outside the gates along with Riggs and Cassius,” Aldwin supplied, using his head to motion towards the aforementioned structure, which I now saw was partially open. “Apparently, they’ve already spotted our new arrivals by the light they’re carrying in the distance and went to watch their approach. It shouldn’t be too much longer before they’re here, I think.”

“Ah, well, let’s get you all filled in before they do,” Caius said as he glanced between the trio, already taking a half step towards the gate. “Because once they’re here, we’re most likely going to be running around for the rest of the night.”

“That we are,” Freya agreed, all of us turning to make our way through the gates and across the bridge that spanned the river bordering the town, finding the aforementioned other members of our group standing at its edge.

Moving to join them, we—or rather Caius and Garr—began to retell their story of Senzin’s astral visit and what trials currently befell our distant allies. In my case, since I already was familiar with the sequence of events after just having heard it, I took the opportunity to instead look out towards the night horizon, searching for the distant lights that Aldwin had mentioned.

And there they are, I said to myself after a few seconds of searching, having spotted several clusters of magical lights that heralded the twin vanguards of both the Legion and Lionheart guilds, their glittering shapes continuing to grow in size as they drew closer. It had been a long and agonizing wait over the last week to see if they would manage to make it here to us before our war took a turn for the worse, giving each of us, myself included, more than one sleepless night of worry. But with every day that passed, as they grew closer, that worry slowly lessened, replacing itself with the hope that things would end up working out.

Which it seems that it has—if practically right at the finish line, considering how close the orcs are in breathing down our necks, I mused as I stared at the distant adventurers, a part of me feeling especially relieved that there also hadn’t been any last-minute surprises to derail or taint their arrival. Given just how many players were supposedly coming tonight—which was five hundred and forty-six people at last count—we couldn’t help but feel a little nervous to receive them all, especially given our past experiences with adventurers. But so far, however, any issues or even outright betrayals that we might have had expected had failed to materialize, allowing us to breathe a deep sigh of relief that the orcs and the Dread Crew would be the only trouble that we’d need to worry about.

If at least in the immediate term, I thought, all too well recalling Riggs’s words about what could possibly happen if the coming adventurers happened to get too bored without an outlet for their energy. But like I’d said then, I very much doubted that there was anything that could even be vaguely attributed to boredom coming our way any time soon, especially in light of Senzin’s news about what was happening in the fens.

“…and that’s all he had to say before he faded away,” I heard Caius say as I tuned back into the conversation, taking my eyes off the distant lights to glance back towards the others.

“Damn, that’s rough,” Cassius commented as a wince crossed his face, the others also following suit with sympathetic expressions and sentiments. “I really hope they can pull through with everything they’re dealing with. It doesn’t sound like they have it any better on their end than we do here.”

“That it certainly doesn’t,” Freya agreed in a quiet voice, her head shaking from side to side as she spoke. “Hopefully, they’ll be able to either beat them back, or if failing that, hold out somehow and buy time. Maybe then if we can win against the orcs here, we could relieve the pressure on them by threatening Khudazal directly. It would force Sthera to pull her minions back or risk losing the place.”

“Doing that would probably be easier than fighting our way through the Hartwyld and into the swamp,” Drace mused thoughtfully. “At least with enough numbers to make a difference in any large-scale fight.”

“Take it from someone who’s crossed through said Hartwyld, it absolutely would be,” Constantine added. “Even with Garr and his people’s help, I think we’d be hard-pressed to sneak an army through the place unscathed.”

“That it certainly would be,” the gronn replied, nodding at the rogue as he spoke. “Our magic can do much to speed a journey along for a handful of travelers, but moving a large force would be beyond its limits.”

“We’ll need to see what we’re able to do when the time comes, and more importantly, if we actually get that far,” I said, using that opportunity to motion towards the distant array of lights that I’d been half keeping an eye on. Lights which had continued to grow to the point where the shapes of people were visible beneath them. “In the meantime, though, it looks like our guests are just about here.”

“So it seems they are,” Aldwin replied as everyone twisted to look out into the night. “I suppose then it’s time we prepared ourselves to receive them. Shall we go forward as planned?”

“Yeah, I think so,” I said as we all began to shuffle and move, the eleven of us fully crossing the bridge until we were standing a dozen or so feet away from it. “Everything looks to be going according to plan from what I can tell. Right, Cassius?”

“Looks to be,” the man affirmed. “If something were up, Berwyn or one of the others would have signaled us by now. If they’re this close, then things are all good to go.”

“Great,” I replied, relieved to hear that there hadn’t been anything I missed as we all began to sort ourselves into a line so that we would be ready to receive the guilds.

Having been well-coached by Stanton on how best we should present ourselves, it only took a few seconds for us to sort out our order, even with the unplanned addition of both Caius and Garr to our numbers. The result had Amaranth and I taking the center position of the line, since we were technically one person, with Aldwin then on my right and Freya on my left, both of them standing half a step behind me. Moving outwards from there, we then had Drace, Constantine, Caius, and Garr filling out the rest of the line half a step behind Freya’s left, with Dyre, Cassius, and Riggs filling out the right side of the bann in a similar fashion.

The message that we hoped to send with the carefully chosen lineup was to show off Aldford’s leadership structure, which put me directly at its heart, with both Freya, Aldwin, and the others then following in order of precedence. It was perhaps a heavy-handed message to send during our first encounter with the new adventurers, but the elder spy had been adamant in telling me that I had to assert both my leadership and authority immediately, lest I be perceived as weak.

Which also reminds me that we’re going to really need to find more time for the lessons he’s promised me, I thought with a slight mental grimace as we all fell into our places, the busyness of both the war and our other commitments having kept both the spy and myself from finding the time to connect regularly. While it wasn’t something that it was likely to change in the short term, it was something that I had to make time for, especially if I wanted to maintain control of the region’s leadership long term. Just another one of the endless things for Future Lyrian to worry about one day.

Letting out a short mental chuckle at what had become an inside joke with myself, I idly hoped that my future self wouldn’t hate my past self too much when the time came to follow up on all the tasks that I’d pushed forward. But for the meantime, there were more than enough things to keep me busy in the present—the most pressing of them now little more than a few hundred feet from arriving.

“Well, here we go, everyone,” I whispered as we all finished getting into position, leaving us with nothing left to do but stand and watch Legion and Lionheart’s final approach. “Here’s the moment that we’ve all been waiting for.”

Receiving a few muttered whispers to my words, we all fell silent as we continued to stare on ahead at the growing wall of adventurers, their advance visibly starting to slow as they drew closer. As they did and it became even easier to see them, I noticed that practically everyone’s attention in the crowd was focused nearly straight upwards, their eyes fixated firmly on the ætherwarped oak above. Continuing to slow as the distance between us shrank to less than a hundred feet, a handful of scattered shouts rang out from amid their ranks, causing all of them to grind to a stop. Or rather all of them save for four riders on horseback that maintained their advance towards us, quickly crossing what remained of the gap.

Scanning between the quartet as they closed, I recognized the lead figure to be none other than Berwyn, the visibly weary monk raising a hand to wave at us, a final signal that there was nothing for us to fear. Feeling the last shred of worry fade away from me at the sign, I allowed myself to exhale softly in relief before turning my attention towards those accompanying him, taking in their appearances for the first time. Focusing first on the pair to his left, I found myself greeted by the familiar faces of both Elliot and Elissa, or as they were known in-game, Mithaniel and Neria, the two siblings co-leading the Lionheart guild together.

Appearing somewhat similar to one another, there was little doubt for anyone that looked at them longer for a second that they were somehow related, the pair sharing not only a few facial features but also the same shade of brown hair and bright hazel eyes. Yet for all that initial similarity, it was beyond that they diverged radically, with Mithaniel’s larger figure completely towering over his sister’s smaller stature, a feat aided by the thick and heavy armor he wore. Armed with a sword on his hip and a large shield visibly strapped to his back, the man rode effortlessly on his horse as if he’d been born into the saddle, giving him a commanding, if not imposing presence. Striking a near opposite presence to her brother, Neria, on the other hand, exuded a more subtle and reserved demeanor, the woman’s plain dark leather armor almost wanting to make my eye slide off her as if she weren’t interesting enough to look at. Enough so that I wondered if there was perhaps subtle magic at play, or if the pair were simply that well-practiced at maximizing the contrast between one another.

Whichever the case, it was a mystery that would have to wait till later to explore as, after that initial glance, my attention shifted towards the last rider of the quartet, who rode closely on Berwyn’s right. Recognizing him as Jay—or rather as his in-game alias was called, Janus—his closely cropped dark blond hair and bright blue eyes were a near mirror to what I recalled seeing during our last conversation. Seeing him riding high in his saddle as he approached, my eye shifted downwards to take in the sleek, if yet still substantial armor that he wore, its build suggesting that it was designed for both protection and mobility. Completing the look for the Legion guild leader was the spear that had been strapped across his back at an angle, the dark metal weapon barely visible in the night’s gloom save for its head which at first glance appeared to be made of crystal.

With just enough time to finish that last inspection as the group came to a stop a couple dozen feet away, the next thing I knew was that the four of them had all dismounted from their horses and had begun striding towards us on foot. Following to the side and behind as the other guild leaders made their approach, Berwyn offered us rare smile as he looked back at us, one that we saw was also matched by each of the three guild leaders. Grinning with obvious joy and excitement as they strode forward, I saw their eyes shift repeatedly as they took in the sight that was Aldford, alternating between glancing at the tree above and the palisade bordering the town.

Unable to help but grin at their speechless wonder, I gave them the time to take in the sights as they drew closer, waiting until their eyes landed on me before I broke the silence that hung on the air.

“Welcome to Aldford.”

Chapter 60

“Well,” Mithaniel said in an awed voice as we walked through Aldford, his head tilted up towards the tree as he spoke. “I know you said you’d leave the lights on for us when we got here. But this? This is something else.”

“Oh, you could say that again,” Neria stated in a voice just higher than a whisper, her head turning every which way as she tried to take in the entirety of the town at once. “I mean, wow. Just. Wow.”

“Yeah, what she said,” Janus added somewhat speechlessly on the heels of the woman’s words, his attention alternating between the road ahead of us and the ætherwarped oak high above as if he couldn’t believe that it was there. “None of the feeds that I’ve watched do this place justice.”

“Well, we’ve been a little busy lately sprucing things up, so I’m sure it’s a little out of date,” I replied, grinning sheepishly at both the compliment and at what was becoming the traditional reaction for anyone arriving in the town for the first time, which was to stare in disbelief at the massive tree above. “But I’m glad that you all like the place so far.”

“Like the place?” Neria repeated in a disbelieving tone, her head shaking from side to side as if she couldn’t believe what I’d said. “I love this place already. The welcome we’ve had, plus what we’ve seen so far here already beats the pants off pretty much everything we’re used to back home. Or I guess back at Coldscar. It’s not exactly home anymore now, is it?”

“That it certainly isn’t,” Mithaniel said, managing to take his eyes off the tree above just long enough to look over towards me. “But Neri is right. This town is really something, Lyrian. And I don’t mean just because of that giant tree over there.”

“It really does dominate things, doesn’t it?” I queried, looking up to glance at the azure-hued oak myself for a second before turning back towards the others. “In either case, I really appreciate the kind words, we’ve worked really hard to make the place what it is today and to make sure that you all get settled. We know full well how far you’ve come to make it here.”

“I have no doubt about that,” the armored half-elf replied before going on to shake his head as if trying to find the words to articulate himself. “But it’s not just that. Compared to…well, pretty much everything short of maybe Coldscar itself, there really isn’t anything back that way that even comes close to competing with Aldford. And that includes the people there, too. I mean, don’t get me wrong, like Janus said, we kind of knew what to expect. But also now that we’re here…”

“You can actually see it firsthand,” I said, slowly starting to understand just what exactly the man was trying to articulate. “Were things really that bad back there?”

“Not at first,” Neria answered with a shrug. “But by the time we realized we had to leave, absolutely. If not even worse.”

“Then it’s a good thing you did,” I replied, our conversation temporarily lapsing as the road we were following opened up to reveal Aldford’s town square along with the base of the ætherwarped oak tree beside it. Pausing to take in the sight, and to also absorb the sudden aroma of food that accompanied it, the three guild leaders looked stunned by what they saw waiting for them.

Which was a buffet large enough to feed an army.

Completely filling out every inch of the square was a series of heavy-laden tables, each of them covered with a near-endless variety of food. Ranging from still twitching dishes made from the strange vegetables that had been pulled from the Twilight Grove to giant mushrooms harvested from the Emerald Forest and stuffed with behir meat, the display looked surreal at first glance. But of course that was only the beginning of the course with even more food still yet being prepared by the small army of cooks and chefs at the far end of the square. Busily moving between a row of cooking fires, ovens, and spits that had been set up just for this occasion, they were all in the process of ensuring that everyone who arrived would have something to eat.

“W-w-what is all this?” Neria stammered, recovering the fastest of the three as they all stared at the feast with wide eyes.

“It’s dinner,” I replied with a smile, turning so that I could better see all three of their incredulous expressions and raise an eyebrow. “What? Did you think that we wouldn’t feed you all after you got here?”

“I, uh, well. I mean…” the woman said before trailing off, clearly at a loss for words, her eyes dancing between me and the food ahead.

“Come on,” I said, motioning for the three to proceed onwards. “Part of the perks of being the guild leaders is that we get to eat first. Once both your peoples are finished being sorted out outside, they’ll get sent along this way for their chance for a bite, too.”

Continuing to glance between me and the feast ahead for a few more seconds, it only took me a second gesture and round of encouragement to get them moving, the tantalizing aroma of food wearing down whatever other reservations they may have had. Having had a fair amount of time to prepare for their arrival over the last few days, the dinner was the second step in our plan to receive the new adventurers. It not only gave me the opportunity to connect and talk with the three guild leaders on a human level without a large crowd around us but to also ensure that both they and the other arrivals knew that they were truly welcome.

Which they absolutely are, and in more ways than a giant mountain of food could ever really say, I thought, feeling pleased with how smoothly things had gone so far over the last half-hour as both Amaranth and I trailed the three guild leaders towards the buffet.

After our initial meeting outside of Aldford had finished and we all managed to get past the awkwardness of introductions, we’d quickly moved onto the process of getting everyone formally invited to join the town—a task which we assigned to our local justicar. Thanks to his role of enforcing the order of law within the town, and the inability to be lied to, he was by far the best person to handle the oath that all newcomers would have to swear before being added to the town charter as prospective citizens. Simple in nature, the oath was essentially a binding vow to obey all of Aldford laws while they aided the town in its defense against the orcs. Attached to that oath was also the understanding that if they aided us with honor that they would then be welcomed as full citizens of the town, with all the rights and responsibilities that entailed.

It was something of a twist of the original approach that we’d taken with Freya and the others when they arrived, requiring an act of service to prove their commitment to the town, rather than a material contribution. We thought that it was the best solution that we could come up with given the circumstances—and one that we thought would appease the adventurers that had already joined and contributed to Aldford over the last few months. Beyond that consideration too, we also wanted to apply the lessons we’d learned from players such as Mozter and Ignis, who we’d let into the town with no such rules binding them. As such, the oath had been phrased in a way to give us a level of assurance that should there be betrayal or troublemaking after being sworn in, those adventurers could then be punished accordingly. Which in this case, given that we were at war, was almost certainly an immediate banishment to a Tower of Atonement elsewhere—something that everyone had all heartily agreed was fair given the circumstances.

And something that I hope will never need to happen, I thought as the four of us worked our way down one of the tables, filling a plate each as we went. In Amaranth’s case, however, the cat simply made a beeline towards where all the cooks were stationed, stopping once at a table as his nose caught the scent of something interesting before moving on. Grabbing a little bit of everything as we moved, I listened to the three guild leaders comment to one another over the food, Janus in particular seeming rather adventurous as he paused to inspect what looked like a series of spiked tentacles on a dish.

“Deepburrow spike root. Good choice,” Ragna’s voice called out, causing us each to look up and see the woman approaching with a large platter in hand. “Taste like honey chicken inside but very wiggly and fights on way down. Make sure to stab strong when taking and eating, else will try to escape.”

“I’m sorry, it will wha—” Janus started to ask in response to the woman’s words, his fork on the verge of stabbing into one of the large tubers. But before he could even finish phrasing his question, the root he was aiming for suddenly writhed and flexed, causing him to flinch back in surprise. “Oh! It’s alive!”

“No, not alive, just wiggly plant,” the half-orc matron corrected, smiling at his reaction. “Taste best with a little sauce from beside it. Try it if you like.”

“Sure, why not?” the man replied, letting out a chuckle as he recovered quickly, going on to skewer the root and drop it onto his plate before turning back to reach for the aforementioned sauce. “It’s always good to try something new once in a while.”

“So it is,” Ragna said as she went on to present the platter that she’d been carrying towards us, which I saw consisted of a variety of deviled cockatrice eggs. “I also have extra goodies for you all not on tables. Those on right, super spicy, breathe like dragon afterward. Those on left, tangy and sweet.”

“Oh, yes, please on the spicy ones!” Mithaniel replied with noticeable excitement as he shifted over towards the platter, grabbing a handful of the eggs. “I love hot food. The more the better.”

“Well, you’re in the right place then,” I commented with a chuckle as I watched all three take a few samples of the eggs, adding to what were already nearly overflowing plates.

“Okay, I think I’m done here,” Neria said as she balanced a pair of the sweeter eggs on top of the food she’d already taken. “I don’t think I have any more room for anything else.”

“Me either,” Janus replied, the man needing to hold his fork to his plate so that the deeproot he’d taken didn’t knock everything off.

“Great!” I said, seeing that Mithaniel had already managed to take a bite of one of the eggs and was in the process of turning very red. “Then we can head into the town hall over there. We have a room set aside so we can talk and eat privately. There’ll also be something to drink there, too, if you’re thirsty.”

“That…would be great,” the armored half-elf managed to get out in a shaky voice as he offered me a nod then turned towards Ragna. “These eggs are…amazing! T-thank you!”

“Happy you like!” she replied with a wide smile. “There is many more if you want. Come find when ready.”

“Oh, I will,” Mithaniel promised hoarsely. “I just need a bit of something to chase it first.”

“I’m sure you do,” I commented with another chuckle as I motioned for the group to follow me. “This way then, it’s not too far.”

Thanking Ragna as we departed, we made our way towards the nearby building with our food in hand, a trotting Amaranth quickly catching up to us with a massive flank of behir meat in his mouth. Entering inside, it didn’t take us long after that to get ourselves settled into our room, everyone eagerly digging into their food.

“Erm, right, so what were we talking about again before the food stole away our train of thought?” Mithaniel asked he finished downing a large cup of water.

“Coldscar and how it and everything nearby doesn’t even come close to measuring up to this place,” Janus replied as he continued to struggle with the wriggly plant on his plate, trying to pin it in place so he could cut it.

“Ah, right,” the half-elf said as he shifted over to look towards me. “And it really doesn’t. Even before things went to hell, there were only a handful of places that had any level of development to them. Hard to have anything last when it would just get burnt down or captured a week later.”

“Places which were basically owned by either Bastion or by Serenity with a few exceptions among the unaligned guilds,” Neria added in between bites. “I’m not sure how much you might know of the area when it comes to the nitty-gritty stuff, but those are the two major guilds, or alliances rather, responsible for the current war.”

“I’ve only managed to keep up on the highlights,” I replied, vaguely recalling Paul mentioning something about the two guilds when we’d spoken to him about which guilds to attempt to recruit. “But with the feed delay and everything you’ve all went through on your way here, I’m sure that pretty much everything I know is woefully out of date. In either case, though, why were these guilds at one another’s throats anyway? From what I saw, it’s not like there was a lack of space to expand into around Coldscar and with The Ascendancy encroaching, too…you’d think that would pull people together.”

“You’d think,” Janus said with a snort. “I mean, you’re not wrong. It did at first. But when the topic of exactly who would oversee said people came up—that is when things started to go off the rails.”

“Ah,” I answered with sudden understanding, recognizing the problem. “Because everyone thought that it was they who should be in control.”

“Pretty much,” the man replied. “At first, there were a bunch of guilds in the pot who wanted a say in how things were done, mine included, but that got whittled down fast as Bastion hit their stride and got more involved. At the time they were easily the strongest and most organized guild around, which bought them a lot of credit, especially when they started consolidating their influence by merging with a bunch of the smaller and midsized guilds.

“Of course, as soon as they started doing that, so did the other guilds in an attempt to strengthen their own claims,” Janus continued. “Which is how Serenity eventually came to be. Unlike Bastion, it wasn’t ever really its own guild, but rather an alliance of a bunch of others assembled together who just didn’t want to see it have total control. We almost joined too. ‘We’ being Legion, that is. But the more things went on, the more I found out that the only reason why people were sticking together was to spite the Bastion leadership, so I pulled out completely.”

“Spite has always been a great motivator over the ages,” I said, shaking my head as I listened to the group’s explanation of the region’s politics. “So what ended up happening after that? I know from the feeds that there was a bunch of fighting with the Ascendancy at one point.”

“There was, but it didn’t last for very long,” Neria said, taking over for the Janus as he paused to eat, finally managing to take a bite of the deeproot. “I’m afraid I don’t know all the details, since we sat the whole thing out too, but at one point, push came to shove, and both the guilds moved to block the Ascendancy’s advance in a huge forest valley far to the east of Coldscar. It’s apparently the only pass between their region and the greater Coldscar one. In either case, though, they ended up doing exactly what they’d set out to do. Because the Ascendancy abruptly pulled out of the area with their tail between their legs shortly afterward.”

“Wait, they did?” I asked, more than a little surprised to hear that bit of information. “I never knew that. I thought they were still encroaching on things.”

“Yeah, well, they still are, but just on the other side of the pass now,” Neria replied, a small scowl coming across her face as she spoke. “And this was also where things got even messier, because as soon as the Ascendancy got chased out, was when the two guilds started to bicker at one another. With the external threat now supposedly gone, Serenity was ready to disband again into their separate guilds, but Bastion wasn’t, preferring to continue to grow as the massive organization they’d become, supposedly to be ready for Ascendancy’s return.”

“Which I guess sounded plausible on the surface,” I offered, finding myself drawn into and intrigued by the group’s explanation of Coldscar’s politics.

“Sure did,” she said with a nod. “But by that point, everyone knew that Bastion aspired over and above just being an adventurer’s guild. They wanted to expand their influence into Coldscar and Eberia’s political structure. Whether they were looking to be a positive force or a negative one is still up to the jury.”

“Well, except for the biggest strike against them being that they were kind of assholes and didn’t really care who knew about it,” Mithaniel interjected. “Not all of them, mind you. But the few interactions I had with their leadership gave me a very ‘if you’re not working with us, you’re working against us’ sort of attitude. At least when it came to other players.”

“Which I imagine goes a long way toward making friends or improving the situation,” I commented, having been exposed to that sort of thinking more than once in my gaming and professional life. “Okay, so how did all of that lead to the guild wars? Because from what I saw, things were looking rough in your area—and for quite some time before this whole war started.”

“Now that, I’m afraid, is the million-dollar question, because we have no idea, only bits and pieces,” the half-elf told me with a shrug. “All that we know for sure is that they both came back from the valley pissed at one another. Then a short while later, a bunch of people straight up defected from Serenity to join Bastion, which made them both angrier and drove tensions way up.”

“Oh, good,” I grunted. “Nothing like an actual or perceived betrayal to spice things up.”

“Right?” Mithaniel stated, shaking his head. “Anyway, after that, things went downhill fast. People started leaving the area as well as picking or even changing sides between the two. Not to mention too there were several suspicious raids on both guilds by bandits and rogue adventurers, enough that it wound everything up even further. Each side accused the other side of using the unaligned adventurer guilds in the area as mercenaries or cut outs to attack the other.”

“It was originally during that stretch that you reached out to us,” Janus said. “Which seeing as what happened afterward, I’m doubly glad you did. Had we been even a day slower in moving, there’s a good chance we’d probably have been roped into the war or have been forced to pull back to Coldscar.”

“We were lucky the timing worked out,” I replied graciously, seeing both Neria and Mithaniel nod in agreement with the man. “And we’re happy that you all managed to make it here safely too.”

“So are we,” Neria said as she glanced down at her now mostly empty plate, then over towards me, each of us having eaten steadily throughout the conversation. “But yeah, that’s the quick and dirty version about what life was like back in Coldscar. There are some bits we can go into a bit more detail in if you’d like…but I imagine now that we’re here, we’re the ones that are going to have to get up to speed about the local issues here, rather than the other way around.”

“And something tells me, that the local issues here are a little more challenging than anything we had to deal with back in Coldscar,” Janus added dryly, earning a polite chuckle and a nod from everyone at the table.

“You’d be right on that,” I replied. “Which is why as much as I’d love to hear more about what you all went through, we should probably get you all up to speed on what we have going on here. Especially since I was hoping to introduce you all to our other impending guests first thing tomorrow. I have a feeling that they’ll be really excited to see you all.”

“Well, I happen to love meeting new people, so that sounds like a perfect way to spend the day,” Neria said eagerly, a devilish smile showing no doubt as to just who those guests were.

“That’s great to hear, because there are a lot of them to meet,” I stated, matching her grin with one of my own before clearing my throat and beginning the process of catching the trio up on everything that had happened over the last week. “So to start with the biggest news first…”

Chapter 61

Friday, April 26th, 2047 – 12:32 p.m.

A sweeping arm blurred past my vision as I threw myself sideways into a cartwheel in order to evade it, planting my left hand hard into the ground for stability. Moving ahead of the wicked blade attached to the limb, I felt it sail straight over me, its razor-sharp length passing harmlessly through the spot that I’d just been standing. But the agile dodge hadn’t been the only thing on my mind as I evaded the construct’s attack, taking the opportunity to slash out with my new sword, Savagery, towards the retreating arm and feeling it bite deep in the process.

Regaining my feet quickly as I finished my tumble, I had just enough time to raise the sword back up defensively before I was forced to move once more, this time bringing it against the other blade arm that slashed out towards me in a hard parry. Catching the attack full force against my weapon, I couldn’t help but let out a wicked grin as I stopped it cold with what felt like the barest of efforts.

Wouldn’t have been able to do that before getting all this new gear, I thought, allowing myself a single heartbeat to gloat from the display of strength as I stared back at the corrupted dervish. But once that moment passed, I took the opportunity the parry had presented and lunged forward deep into its now open guard. Immediately scrambling to react to my maneuver, I saw the construct begin to move in an attempt to bring its other arm to bear in an attempt to cut me off while simultaneously stepping backward to buy itself more space.

But by that point, its fate had already been sealed.

Thrusting out with Savagery as I closed, I caught a brief glimpse of the single-edged blade, having just enough time to watch a spark of lightning travel along its length before it plunged into the construct’s chest. Sinking into the muddy creature’s flesh and beyond without a single iota of resistance, I guided my blade as deep as I could into its body, only feeling a cool flow of mana course up my arm in the process. Welcoming the sensation with a distant part of my mind, I tightened my grip on the sword’s hilt and moved to end the fight, slicing it sharply sideways and feeling it glide effortlessly through the corrupted entity. Bursting free from its side of a spray of crimson mud, the attack instantly robbed the construct of its strength, the sweeping arm that I’d stepped past losing all momentum as the creature lost its balance before falling to the ground. Landing in a heap, its body made a wet sound as it turned into a mass of mud and twisted roots, its demise triggering a pair of notifications to flash across my vision.

You have slain a [Corrupted Dervish]!

You have gained Experience!

“Dang, not that one either,” I whispered as I sidestepped the mess before it could splash on me, feeling a momentary flash of disappointment that the message that I’d been itching to see all day hadn’t accompanied yet another kill. In either case, however, that surge of emotion was short-lived as I found my attention promptly captured by a large orc that had seen the construct fall and had wasted no time in moving to charge me.

Now this one might be promising, I thought as I wheeled to meet my newest attacker, the tag briefly flashing over his head identifying him as a level twenty-eight [Crushbone Legionnaire]. He’s the highest level I’ve seen all day long.

Wondering if this was when I would finally reach my goal, I didn’t waste another second in rushing towards the creature, meeting his charge with one of my own. It was a far more aggressive tactic than my usual cautious and reactive approach to dealing with an enemy larger and potentially physically stronger than me. But with the strength and speed that my newly crafted equipment lent me, I was more than eager to find out just where my new limits were compared against the enemies I was used to fighting.

Crossing the distance separating us in the blink of an eye, the remains of the construct that I’d just slain had yet to finish moving before our two weapons connected, Savagery grinding heavily against the legionnaire’s axe. Eyes widening in surprise from the impact, I heard the orc let out a loud grunt as he tried to fight against me, clearly not having expected such strength behind my attack given my comparatively smaller stature. Testing myself against the creature’s might as we pushed against one another, I quickly discovered that despite the large boost that the new equipment had given me, the orc still held a slight edge when it came to raw strength.

Which is probably fair, all things considered, I told myself with a mental shrug, satisfied with what I’d learned from the exchange as I felt it begin to force my sword back towards me. But while it still might be stronger than me, there’s definitely no way that it’s faster than me.

Breaking away from our exchange before I could be completely overpowered, I slid Savagery off the orc’s axe and moved to dodge around the orc, looking to take advantage of the space that the battlefield offered. Reacting to my maneuver with skill, if not ability, my opponent instantly sensed what I was trying to do and began to move to block me. But it was at that moment where the differences in our speed became apparent, my Alacrity-fueled and essence-enhanced movement making the orc appear as if he were standing still. It was then, with complete ease, that I managed to dodge by his glacial attempt to catch me, twist behind him, and deliver a flawlessly placed Perfect Strike at the base of his neck, once again seeing a list of notifications appear in my vision.

Except this time, they contained the ones I’d been waiting to see.

You critically strike a [Crushbone Legionnaire] with [Perfect Strike] for 2205 points of damage!

You have slain a [Crushbone Legionnaire]!

You gain Experience!

Congratulations! You have reached Level 29!

You have unlocked a Class Challenge opportunity!

“Finally!” I shouted as I felt the familiar surge of energy that a new level always brought shoot through me, causing the few wounds and bruises that I’d acquired over the battle to abruptly vanish.

“Finally?” Constantine’s panting voice called back from nearby, causing me to twist towards it, spotting both him and Amaranth fighting side by side nearly a dozen feet away from me. “Finally what? Can you see the others yet?”

“What? No,” I replied, it taking me a second to process what the rogue had said, a second which I used to slice at yet another orc that decided to charge me. “I’m yelling because I just hit level twenty-nine!”

“Gah! I can’t believe I’m going to say this, Lyr, but you’re seriously worried about that right now?” he shouted back in a slightly panicked tone as he blocked a stab from an orc, thereby giving Amaranth a chance to disembowel it with a swipe of his claws. “Look around! We’re getting swarmed! Where are the others?”

“It’s not that bad,” I said as I expertly stabbed the newest attacking orc in the chest and paused to glance at the battlefield around me as it fell to the ground. It was only then I realized that in my bloodlust to reach level twenty-nine that I’d managed to form a pocket of safety around me by killing everything that came into range, enough so that any new attackers went out of their way to avoid me. The rest of the battlefield that stretched farther along on either side me was, in fact, still packed with orcs, constructs, and spirits.

Enough so that it was slowly starting to force our lines backward as they struggled to keep themselves from breaking.

“Eh, well, actually,” I replied, backpedaling a bit as I regained the pulse of the battle, which was indeed starting to turn against us. But no sooner did those words leave my mouth did I catch a bright flash of magic explode directly amongst the orc’s rear line, which was then followed by another and another. “Ah, look! There are they are! They must have just been held up a bit!”

“Just a bit!” Constantine growled back as the orc line suddenly rippled in reaction to the attack from their rear, whatever momentum that they may have had in pushing against us vanishing. “In either case, Lyr, I could use your help here! There’s still plenty of orcs to go around!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” I replied as I moved to rejoin both him and Amaranth, running back into the battle at a sprint.

Falling in beside the pair, the three of us renewed our press against the now fragmenting orc line, their once disciplined ranks rapidly beginning to break apart with each one of them that fell. Pressed from both sides, it didn’t take long from there for the orcs to fall into a frenzied panic, finally realizing that they’d been outmaneuvered and were now trapped between our two forces. But by that point, however, their fate had been sealed, as it had been for all the other groups that we’d managed to catch today so far.

“Look, there’s Janus!” Constantine shouted as the battle began to slowly wind down, the last few orcs still standing all desperately trying to form a pocket for a last stand.

“I see him!” I called back to the rogue, following the sword he’d used to point over the orcs and towards the man.

Catching sight of him briefly, I saw him thrust his spear directly into a corrupted guardian’s chest, its length sparking with a surge of electricity as it did so. Pulling the weapon free an instant later, the man then vanished in the familiar flash of magic that was Blink Step, both Mithaniel and Neria suddenly filling the spot he’d been standing in. Charging at full speed ahead of his sister, Mithaniel slammed into the wounded guardian’s shield first, using his prodigious strength to shove it backward and off-balance. Staggering, the creature then had no chance to intercept Neria as she leapt towards it with her swords outstretched, both of their tips thrusting into the open eye sockets of the construct’s skull. Finding leverage against the hard bone, it was a heartbeat later that the skull came free of the abomination’s shoulders, torn clean off by the wrenching twist that followed.

“And the others, too!” I added belatedly, the whole takedown of the guardian happening so quickly that I’d barely been able to follow it before both the creature and the others vanished from sight.

“Good! Then we can finally put a wrap on this! It’s gone on too long already!” Constantine shouted as another round of thunderous magic split the air, followed by a large burst of fire rising up from what remained of the orc’s ranks.

“Looks like the mages thought the same thing!” I replied, forced to shield my eyes from the onslaught of magic that followed the initial blast, a hailstorm of fire, lightning, ice, and other magic wiping away the bulk of the orcs that remained. With only a few scattered survivors left standing, it was a few minutes afterward that our battle effectively came to an end, the token resistance that they offered little match for our superior numbers.

“Ah, damn, sorry about the timing there, guys,” Mithaniel said apologetically to both Constantine and me once the fighting was over and we’d had a chance to regroup. “This group was smarter than the others we’ve hit today. They left a reserve trailing them. We ended up running straight into them on our way to get in position and had to take care of them first.”

“It was only a matter of time until they finally got smart enough,” Freya replied with a shake of her head, the woman having made her way from the far end of the battlefield after things had ended. “This is the fourth warband we’ve taken today. They’d be dumb not to realize that they’re missing people by now.”

“True,” the half-elf said in an appreciative tone. “But if we’re going to try our luck again today, I’m thinking that we’ll need to change things up.”

“Probably,” Freya agreed. “Though all things considered, even with the delay, this skirmish went well. We only lost a handful, and I can already sense that they’re on their way back to grab their soul fragments. It’s not the worst exchange for scratching another hundred orcs or so and half a dozen constructs.”

“Definitely not,” I agreed, turning to scan over the battlefield, which was slowly being picked over by our two combined groups of adventurers as they collected the spoils of war that the fallen orcs offered. Watching it for a second, I was reminded about a particular series of notifications that had appeared during the battle as a pair of markers flashed in the side of my vision. Eyes widening in sudden anticipation, I turned back towards the group, eager to buy myself some time to read over what I already knew was going an exciting few minutes. “Anyway, though, if you all don’t mind letting me know when it’s time to get moving again, I have a little bit of reading to do that I’ve been really looking forward to.”

“Ah! You finally hit twenty-nine?” Freya asked with a note of excitement in her voice. “About time! I don’t know how much longer I’d have been able to keep things a secret!”

“I did,” I replied with a grin. “And you know, you never had to keep it a secret in the first place.”

“Tradition dictates that I did,” the woman said with a chuckle. “We tend to like to keep level spoilers on the down-low here, especially when it comes to Lyrian. We feel the anticipation makes the achievement all the sweeter.”

“Noted,” Janus replied as he, Neria, and Mithaniel matched Freya’s laugh with one of their own. “We’ll be sure to keep that in mind for the future.”

“Great,” I commented in a dry tone, drawing out the word. “And maybe one of these days I’ll be the one out-leveling you all again. Then we’ll see how it feels when the shoe is on the other foot.”

“We’ll see about that, Lyr, but until then, we’ll have our fun,” Constantine chimed in, his tone sounding much more level now that the fighting was over. “But speaking of levels, this is also a good time to mention that I hit twenty-nine too. So Lyr and I both could use a hot second to see what’s waiting for us before we’re moving again.”

“Fair enough. Go sort yourselves out,” Freya replied, giving us both a shooing motion. “In the meantime, we’ll go see if there’s any loot worth talking about and get everyone organized to move again.”

Going our separate ways at that point, Constantine and I found ourselves a quiet place to stand off to the side from everyone, the two of us chattering eagerly as we sorted out our attributes that the level increase had brought.

“Fingers crossed for some good advanced class options,” the rogue said to me as we moved. “For as much as we try at keeping secrets, I’ve heard too many rumors to have any idea of what to expect.”

“Geez, if you’ve heard rumors, you’ve heard more than me. No one’s told me anything,” I replied, assigning my free attribute points into agility with barely a thought, before going on to scan over my character sheet to see what the new level had brought me.

Statistics:

HP: 1836/1836

Stamina: 1616/1616

Mana: 2062/2062

Experience to next level: See Class Challenge

Renown: 7110

Attributes:

Strength: 94 (169)

Agility: 94 (195)

Constitution: 93 (94)

Intelligence: 117 (139)

Willpower: 34

Looking good, I thought as I confirmed my choice, no longer shocked to see the high values beside each of my primary attributes.

Dismissing the sheet from my vision almost as quickly as I’d summoned it, I turned to glance over towards Constantine, seeing him look up to meet my eye. “Ready?”

“You better believe it,” he replied with a grin.

“Then let’s see what’s waiting for us,” I said, mentally calling up the single flashing notification that remained in my vision and seeing it expand into a massive textbox, which was accompanied by the sound of an exciting fanfare.

Congratulations! You have unlocked your level twenty-nine Class Challenge opportunity as well as a preview of the three Advanced Classes awaiting you at level thirty! As you enter your final level in your Base Class, you have one final opportunity to refine your playstyle before continuing onwards.

For this last step in your Base Class progression, you will need to choose a path of focus to commit yourself to, each of which contains specialized attribute growth as well as a capstone trait to permanently enhance an aspect of the various playstyles you’ve experienced so far. Once chosen, this path will then shape your future development no matter which Advanced Class you choose, tailoring it to suit you perfectly. In order to commit yourself to one of these paths, you must show that you are capable of withstanding and overcoming a true challenge to your ability in such a way that it exemplifies its virtues. Only then will you be able to progress onwards.

Please note that of all the following choices, you will only be able to choose a single path to follow, after which you will immediately progress to level thirty and be able to choose an Advanced Class.

The Path of Magic

Path Attribute Progression:

+4 to Intelligence and Willpower per level

Path Ability Progression:

On adopting this path and choosing an Advanced Class, your future progression will shift to favor more Magical abilities over Martial ones each time a Class Skill Point is obtained.

Capstone Trait:

Intensify Spell

Description: Your understanding of magic has grown drastically in the days since you learned your first novel spell. As such, now when you cast a spell you are able to channel more mana into it than it would otherwise normally require, increasing its effects substantially. However, should the spell become too overcharged for your skill to handle, there is a risk of it failing catastrophically.

Effect: This ability allows you to increase the range and/or effects of your spells at the cost of additional mana, which in turn increases the Spell Mastery needed to wield the spell without failure. Spells can be overcharged to three distinct levels with increased mana costs and risks for every stage. The effects of this ability stacks with all other magical traits and abilities unless otherwise noted.

Light Overcharge: By paying an additional 25% in mana costs you are able to increase the spell’s effects by 35%. This increases the Spell Mastery requirements of the spell by +1.

Moderate Overcharge: By paying an additional 50% in mana costs you are able to increase the spell’s effects by 70%. This increases the Spell Mastery requirements of the spell by +3.

Heavy Overcharge: By paying an additional 100% in mana costs you are able to increase the spell’s effects by 150%. This increases the Spell Mastery requirements of the spell by +6.

Trial to Obtain:

Defeat a challenging enemy through the use of only magic: 0/1

The Path of Balance

Path Attribute Progression:

+2 to Strength, Agility, Intelligence, and Willpower per level

Path Ability Progression:

On adopting this path and choosing an Advanced Class, your future progression will shift to favor a balanced approach between Martial and Magical abilities every time a Class Skill Point is obtained.

Capstone Trait:

Arcane Touch

Description: After much practice and honing both your martial and magical prowess, you have become well-practiced at using spells channeled through your weapon or body, learning how to empower their effects while reducing their mana cost.

Effect: Any spell or magic-based traits that you channel through your weapon or natural body to attack a target has its effects increased by 15% and mana cost reduced by 35%. In addition, the weapon’s physical properties no longer matter when spells or traits are channeled through them, such as a metallic weapon conducting electricity.

Trial to Obtain:

Defeat a challenging enemy through the use of both skill and magic: 0/1

The Path of Skill

Path Attribute Progression:

+4 to Agility and Intelligence per level

Path Ability Progression:

On adopting this path and choosing an Advanced Class, your future progression will shift to favor more Martial abilities over Magical ones each time a Class Skill Point is obtained.

Capstone Trait:

Way of the Sword

Description: You have come a long way since you first picked up a sword with shaking hands. Now, after endless practice and battle, you wield the blade with the skill of an artist, painting it across your enemies with deadly grace while effortlessly evading their attempt to injure you.

Effect: When wielding a sword, you gain a +5% bonus to Attack Speed, Damage Dealt, Critical Strike Chance, Critical Hit Damage, Dodge, and Parry.

Trial to Obtain:

Defeat a challenging enemy through the use of only physical skill and swordsmanship: 0/1

Available Advanced Class #1:

Battle Mage

Masters of destruction, Battle Mages are living weapons that stride across the battlefield nigh unopposed. Armed with a weapon in one hand and an endless library of lethal spells in the other, these magical practitioners are best suited for mass combat where they are able to wreak havoc on all those before them. However, due to this purely offensive focus, Battle Mages often fall behind other spellcasters, gaining fewer utility-based spells or abilities.

Role: Area of Effect Damage, Single Target Damage, Support

HP Progression: Moderate

Armor: Light, Medium, Heavy

Weapon Skills: All martial weapons

Arcane Trees: Evocation, Conjuration

Class Difficulty: Low

Class Attribute Progression:

+20 to Constitution and Intelligence on adopting the Advanced Class

+4 to Constitution and Intelligence per level

Class Ability:

Battle Magic Mastery:

Thanks to their innate skill combined with tireless hours of practice, offensive magic comes easily to the Battle Mage, allowing them to master difficult spells in a fraction of the time it would take others to, as well as add additional potency to their effects.

Effect: All Spell Mastery requirements for Evocation and Conjuration spells are reduced by 2 levels, and all damage done by offensive spells are increased by 15%.

On adopting this class, you will learn the following spells:

Thunderburst

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Range: 50 feet target, 15 feet radius of effect

Arcane Tree: Conjuration

Spell Mastery: Conjuration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 600

Description: Channeling a potent blast of electricity at a point you designate, you conjure a ball of lightning at a specific point and cause it to explode, electrocuting everything around it.

Effect: Lightning explodes in a fifteen-foot radius around a target, shocking everything for 500 points of electricity damage and potentially stunning afflicted targets for up to 5 seconds.

Breath of Winter

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Range: 30-foot cone

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation – Level 30

Mana Cost: 600

Description: You exhale a chilling blast of wind before you, causing everything to freeze.

Effect: A wave of pure cold extends outwards from you in a thirty-foot cone, freezing all it touches and dealing 550 points of cold damage. In addition, every afflicted target has a chance to have their movement and attack speed decreased by up to 50% for the next 10 seconds.

Lava Bolt

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Range: 100 feet to target, 20 feet radius of effect

Arcane Tree: Conjuration

Spell Mastery: Conjuration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 650

Description: You conjure an oozing sphere of lava and throw it at your target, causing it to explode in a burning conflagration of ash.

Effect: You throw a blazing fireball at your target, which on detonating deals 600 points of fire damage to all afflicted targets. In addition, every afflicted target has a chance to be [Seared], which deals an additional 25% of the fire damage inflicted over the next 3 seconds.

Available Advanced Class #2:

Kensai

Turning their magical ability towards themselves and their chosen weapon, a Kensai is a fierce martial combatant that thrives in the thick of battle. Using their powerful arcane might, they are capable of augmenting both their weapon and body instantly to adapt to the situation before them, imbuing either with a variety of potent abilities. Leaning heavily on the martial aspect of their ability, a Kensai tends to focus on passive magical abilities, eschewing the flashy or destructive nature of their other spellcasting cousins.

Role: Single Target Damage, Support, Recon, Evasion Tanking

HP Progression: Moderate

Armor: Light, Medium

Weapon Skills: All martial weapons

Arcane Trees: Abjuration, Alteration, Conjuration

Class Difficulty: Moderate

Class Adoption Bonus:

+20 to Strength and Agility

+4 to Strength and Agility per level afterward

Class Ability:

Bonded Weapon

In order to make use of their potent imbuements, a Kensai must bond with their chosen weapon, shifting a portion of their essence into it. Once completed, it becomes exceptionally potent in their hands, gaining a preternatural sharpness and speed.

Effect: In the hands of its wielder, a Bonded Weapon gains an additional +10% damage and +15% critical hit damage, while also allowing for the Kensai to further Imbue it. Note: This bond is not permanent and can be shifted to another weapon by meditating with it for an hour uninterrupted.

On adopting this class, you will learn the following Imbuements:

Keen Edge

Type: Imbuement, Class Skill

Duration: Until Cancelled

Range: Self

Arcane Tree: Alteration

Spell Mastery: Alteration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 300

Description: Channeling pure mana into your weapon, you imbue it with a mystical sharpness, causing it to glow brightly with azure energy.

Effect: For as long as the imbuement remains active, you deal an additional +50 weapon damage with every attack.

Steelskin

Type: Imbuement, Class Skill

Duration: 3 minutes or until effect ends

Range: Self

Arcane Tree: Abjuration

Spell Mastery: Abjuration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 500

Description: Focusing your magical energy inwards, you temporarily augment your very flesh, granting it the resilience of steel.

Effect: For the duration of the imbuement or until you absorb 2000 points of damage, you gain a 50% damage reduction against all physical attacks. Due to the toll this ability takes on your body, it can only be used once every ten minutes.

Quicksilver

Type: Imbuement, Class Skill

Duration: 15 seconds

Range: Self

Arcane Tree: Alteration

Spell Mastery: Alteration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 400

Description: You flood your body with mana, temporarily supercharging it with a burst of speed.

Effect: For the duration of the imbuement, you gain +50% movement and attack speed. Due to the toll this ability takes on your body, it can only be used once every ten minutes.

Available Advanced Class #3:

Spellstriker

A master in both magic and martial prowess, the Spellstriker elevates combat into an artform, seamlessly blending the two together in a stunning display of skill and ability. Capable of calling upon either physical might or raw magic in dealing with any problem, their versatility allows them to rapidly adjust to a changing battlefield and seize whatever advantage is before them.

Role: Damage, Support, Recon

HP Progression: Moderate

Armor: Light, Medium

Weapon Skills: All martial weapons

Arcane Trees: Abjuration, Alteration, Conjuration, Evocation

Class Difficulty: Moderate

Class Adoption Bonus:

+10 to Strength, Agility, Intelligence, and Willpower

+2 to Strength, Agility, Intelligence, and Willpower per level afterward

Class Ability:

Magical Strike:

Thanks to their constant use and study of magic, Spellstrikers have learned how to suffuse either their weapon or physical strike with arcane power, adding both extra potency and special effects to their attacks.

Effect: When striking at an enemy, you are able to enhance either your weapon or your body with any type of magic that you have Mastered. This magic can range from elemental strikes, such as fire or ice, or non-elemental ones such as curse or illusion magic.

On adopting this class, you will gain Mastery over Frost, Fire, and Thunder, learning the following strikes:

Frost Strike

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 30

Mana Cost: 220

Description: You channel an intense magical cold into your weapon or fist, causing it to become coated in a layer of rime and frost.

Effect: When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +170-230 points of Cold Damage. On strike, there is a chance you will [Frostbite] the target, slowing their attack speed and movement speed by 30% for the next 3 seconds. This effect only stacks once.

Fire Strike

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 30

Mana Cost: 320

Description: You channel an intense magical fire into your weapon or fist, causing it to glow red with heat.

Effect: When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +250-350 points of Fire Damage. On strike, there is a chance you will [Burn] the target, dealing an additional 75% Fire Damage inflicted over the next 5 seconds. This effect only stacks once.

Thunder Strike

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 30

Mana Cost: 290

Description: You channel an intense magical electricity into your weapon or fist, causing it to crackle with power.

Effect: When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +200-300 points of Lightning Damage. On strike there is a chance you will [Shock] the target, stunning them and preventing any action for up to 3 seconds. This effect can only occur once every 30 seconds on the same target.

“Oh, wow,” I said as I finished reading through the massive update, feeling like a man coming up for air after a long dive underwater. “Th-that was intense. There’s just so much to go over. And all the options, too.”

“Tell me about it,” Constantine stated, his voice sounding more than a little bit overwhelmed as he spoke. “And no wonder everyone figured to keep this all to their chest. It’d take them ages to explain everything.”

“No kidding,” I replied, shaking my head as I tried to unpack everything that I’d read, let alone start to figure out which of the paths and advanced classes I’d want to choose. “What were—”

“Hey, Constantine, Lyr!” Freya’s voice suddenly called out, causing us both to flinch in surprise and twist towards it as she continued to speak, eventually spotting both her and Huxley jogging towards us. “Sorry to interrupt, but we have news that can’t wait.”

“News?” I repeated as the pair joined us, it taking me a second to remember that the scout hadn’t been a part of our group but rather part of the one that had been assigned to keep an eye on Valor’s Point. “What happened?”

“They’re here,” Huxley replied simply, looking at a little dazed as he met my eye. “And it is here too. We just saw it come over the rise, along with all the rest of them. They’re all spreading out up top in the base and in front of the hill.”

“Damn,” I said, needing no further explanation of what exactly it was, the expression on the man’s face telling me all that I needed to know. “Then it looks like our day hunting their vanguards is as good as over.”

“It looks like it,” Freya replied before glancing over towards Huxley. “But that’s not all that they did.”

“No, it definitely wasn’t,” the elf said, shaking his head as he spoke, his eyes never wavering from mine. “It took them a bit of time before the bulk of their army made it over the rise. After they did though, they sent a group out knowing full well that we’d see them. A group with a white flag.

“It looks like they want to talk.”

Chapter 62

What could they possibly want to talk about? I thought we were way past that point. Especially after what we did at Khudazal, I thought, replaying Huxley’s words in my mind as we began to run northward towards Valor’s Point, splitting away from Janus and the others as we left the now-barren battlefield behind. Once again, their combined group would end up trailing us as a reserve force in case we ran into any orcs along our way, while also staying out of sight once we arrived at our destination. We’ve been fighting both the orcs and the Dread Crew for nearly a month now, even longer if you start counting after the Tower battle, and they never once made any effort to talk to us. Is it because Zhul is with them? Is he hoping that we’ll be intimidated by his army and either surrender or flee, saving him the trouble of fighting us?

Either that or try and lead us into a trap at the meeting itself, I added a second afterward, wondering if I was being an idiot even for considering meeting with the orcs in the first place. Given their wholly different culture—and by extension, concept of honor—the implied truce and safety that a white flag offered might mean something entirely different to them that it traditionally did to us. Which if it ends up being the case, we’re likely to find out about it the hard way.

But on the flip side, I wondered if there was any reason for us to keep our word and honor the orcs’ white flag, especially if it was Zhul that stepped forward to meet with us. No matter what happened in the meeting, I figured that it was almost guaranteed that the orcs would continue to press on to Aldford, leaving us with little to lose if we decided to roll the dice and attack. It would be a technically dishonorable thing to do, but I wasn’t sure if that was something that really mattered to me, especially not if it allowed us to decapitate the orc leadership and give us a better shot at surviving this war.

Let alone winning it.

Shaking my head at the path that my thoughts were heading, I forced myself to relax and focus on something else for a time, shifting to look ahead at the horizon, my eyes scanning over the ravaged landscape.

Similar to how the plains had come to look after our stalemate with the Dread Crew, the now-burnt and ash-covered meadow we ran through was the result of the scorched earth policy that we’d adopted after losing Valor’s Point. Wanting to make sure that there was nothing for the orcs to use as they made their final push towards Aldford, we’d taken pains to burn down or destroy everything that could possibly help them wage war on us. From forests to water wells and everything else in between, we’d gritted our teeth and had done what we’d felt was necessary for our continued survival. The result of those efforts, aside from the thick ash and smoke that now seemed to permanently hang in the air, was the near-complete absence of any signs of life or even the basic ingredients to support it. If the orcs had any intention of living off the land as they pressed closer towards us, then they would be forced to work harder to do so, straining what we hoped were already their overtaxed logistics even further.

And in the case of today, that’s going to mean wasting time and effort to send out another series of warbands to scout the area and try to figure out just how much we’d managed to destroy, I thought, thinking back to our efforts so far today and how we’d managed to mousetrap several of the orcs’ vanguards that had ranged ahead of their main force by simply baiting them to attack us. Having been exceptionally eager to offer battle at the first signs of spotting resistance, the warbands had simply charged at us with barely a second thought, looking to overwhelm us with what they thought were their superior numbers.

And allowing us to prove them completely wrong about that fact when a hundred more adventurers hidden just out of sight happened to crash into them from behind faster than they could even think to react.

It wasn’t exactly a mind-bendingly clever tactic as such things were measured, but it was a simple one for our two groups to execute, while also taking advantage of the orcs’ tendency to attack first and ask questions later. Or if at all.

Which in itself might make this coming meeting a little harder, I Thought as my thoughts finally finished their circular loop through my mind and arrived back at where they had originally started. Because nothing sets the tone for a conversation like the understanding or realization that the person across from you just spent the better part of the morning killing your warriors.

Letting out a brief sigh at the possibilities of how that was going to go over, I shook my head for the second time in what felt like as many minutes and once again forced myself to think about something else. This time, however, I at least had the sense to focus on something that I knew would hold my attention for longer than a handful of minutes, calling up both my class challenge and my potential advanced classes to scan over once again. Reading as best I could while I continued to run, I took a few minutes to scan over the three paths that my class challenge offered, figuring that they were the best place to start as I tried to figure out exactly what was available to me. Once I felt I had a good understanding of them, I tried to pair them with each of the advanced classes, trying to get a sense of every possible combination—and hopefully which one of those combinations I found to be the most appealing, seeing as my choice would then dictate my future character development going forward.

So no pressure at all then, I thought as started at the top of the list, pairing the Path of Magic and its trait with the battle mage class. Clearly the strongest and most obvious choice, it was one that would turn me into a magical powerhouse, capable of wreaking an incredible amount of destruction on anything I chose. It was a choice that I had to admit wasn’t unappealing, especially when I paired it with the mobility I already had. I could easily see myself running and blink stepping into a group of enemies, dropping what spells I could and then blinking out. Granted the mana costs of the spell were fairly high, even before they were intensified through the trait, but I felt that they could possibly be managed through the use of my mana draining ability, assuming I didn’t spend more mana that I could afford. Or if I didn’t want to go with that path, I could substitute it with the Path of Balance instead of the two others, but given the available spells that were listed, I didn’t know exactly what it would change going forward from there.

Beyond that particular combination, the simplicity of the kensai class was one that I found particularly appealing as well, especially if I paired it with either the Path of Magic or Skill. I’d be able to enhance myself physically with the imbuements that the class offered while still maintaining everything I had up until this point with my current spellsword abilities. It wasn’t as flashy as either of the two other options, but perhaps it didn’t need to be. I’d be able to both deal and absorb a fair amount of damage outright, without being so reliant on offensive spellcasting for combat, thereby conserving my mana. That is, if I even had to. Given that I’d be in melee almost constantly, it was almost a guarantee that I’d be able to drain enough mana to keep myself topped up.

Then lastly, I had the spellstriker class, which, from what I could tell by its middle of the road approach, was essentially the continuation of the spellsword class that I already had, but with a focus on elemental strikes and inflicting status conditions on my enemies. As I looked at it, I realized that the class’s design was essentially an evolution around the strategy that I’d come up with by using Shocking Touch as a damage-dealing spell through my sword. A strategy that I’d used in practically every single fight since I’d gotten the spell. Granted, it wasn’t exactly an earth-shattering tactic all things considered and one that I saw a good portion of the other spellswords around Aldford also using. In either case, with the way that the class was designed, the Path of Balance seemed to be the best fit for it, the synergy between the Arcane Touch trait and the strikes the class relied on only boosting its damage potential and efficiency. Furthermore, as I read the trait itself, I was fairly sure that the benefits that it offered would also extend towards my mana draining ability. Not only would it enhance its effects, but it would also free me from the need to have an æthertouched weapon to drain mana whenever I struck something, granting me more flexibility for the future.

But speaking of flexibility, the class doesn’t look to offer much in terms of utility, at least not right now, I thought as I scanned over the spellstriker class and then the others, seeing that only the kensai class offered something other than direct damage-dealing abilities initially. I was sure that would likely change as time went on and I managed to get a few more levels into whatever class I chose, but it didn’t make my decision any easier for the time being. I guess it’s something that I’m going to have to sit and think about for a while when I get the chance, and maybe compare notes with Janus or one of the other spellswords when they hit level twenty-nine. There’s also no telling either what exactly it’ll take to qualify for one of these paths. What exactly is a challenge enemy anyway? Something higher leveled than me? Or do I need to try and solo a boss creature of some sort?

Properly distracted now from my earlier spiraling thoughts, the remainder of the hour-long journey towards Valor’s Point quickly passed as I continued to think over my impending class choices. It wasn’t until we were almost there that I was pulled out of my mental theorycrafting by the sound of several people either gasping or cursing, causing my eyes to dart back upwards and focus on the distant hill ahead.

Or rather, what was currently standing on top of said hill.

“Damn, Sierra was right,” Constantine said in between breaths as we all began to slow from our jog before eventually coming to a stop. “That thing is huge. Just look at it.”

“Oh, believe me, I am,” I replied as I stared towards the distant siegebreaker, the creature’s colossal size readily apparent the instant I spotted it on the hilltop. Matching the scout’s description from what was starting to feel like ages ago, I could make out its vaguely reptilian shape from our vantage point, along with the gleam of the dark-colored metal that armored its flanks. Unfortunately, any detail beyond that was blurred due to the distance that separated us from the monster—something that I was thankful for. Especially once I finally managed to pull my focus away from the creature and scan over the orc horde that sprawled out in front of it.

Maybe the orcs don’t really want to talk about anything at all, I thought, feeling my heart flutter as I took in the scene, my eye jumping between the dozen or so banners arrayed at the base of the hill and the orcs beneath them. Judging by the separation I saw between each of them, I figured that each banner represented its own tribe, one of them, in particular, appearing so massive that I guessed it had several hundred, if not as many as a thousand, orcs to their name. Maybe they just wanted to call us close enough so that we could see the horde firsthand in hopes of it shaking us.

Feeling like they may have succeeded in that goal, regardless if it had been their intent, I did my best to steady my nerves, exhaling a calming breath. It’d had been one thing to catch sight of the horde back at Khudazal, hidden from sight within the relative safety of the trees, and another to now be standing directly before it with their eyes all focused on us.

“There’s the group with the flag over there,” Freya said from my other side, recovering the fastest of us all from seeing the horde, her hand coming up to point at something much closer to us. “Looks like they’re at least appearing to play things straight.”

“Looks like,” I replied in what I hoped was an even tone as I shifted to follow the woman’s hand away from the distant horde, quickly spotting the white flag flapping in the breeze. Having been placed a good distance away from Valor’s Point, the chosen ground was about as neutral as a place could be in the area, far enough so we wouldn’t feel directly threatened by the orcs. But not so far away that we would forget they were there either.

“I’m counting four of them by the flag, and only one of them an orc,” Constantine said as we continued to take in the scene, the rogue turning to look towards Huxley who had run in pace with us. “Is this the same group you saw when they first came out?”

“It was,” the scout confirmed without a second’s hesitation, his head indicating westward. “And the others nearby haven’t moved at all since I left them. If anything strange happened, they’d be on their way to either deal with it or let us know if they couldn’t.”

“Another sign that they’re playing it straight,” Constantine stated. “And if they have four waiting for us, that likely means that they’re expecting four to meet them.”

“If they’re following the normal rules, then I’d agree,” I replied as squinted towards the flag and saw that it was being held by two of the distant non-orclike figures, likely slaves by my guess. Standing on either side of them were the other two figures, one definitely an orc as Constantine had mentioned, its broad stature unmistakable even from this distance. The final figure, however, was decidedly not, its decidedly slimmer shape signaling that it was either another slave or possibly one of the Dread Crew. “I don’t suppose anyone sees any warning signs that I might be missing?”

“I wish I could say yes, but I honestly have nothing,” Freya said, the others around us chiming in with similar sentiments. “Unless they’re hiding spirits nearby?”

“None anywhere that I can see,” Halcyon replied, the mage waving an ætherscope in his hand as he spoke. “They’re not the easiest to spot, but I can’t see any in range close to us. And the main horde is just too far away to see whatever they might have there.”

“By design, I’m sure,” I said, taking that opportunity to gauge the distance between our two forces once again and seeing that it was also out of my comparatively enhanced ætherscope detection range as well. I doubted that I would be able to get a reading on the horde itself even if I advanced as far as the meeting point they’d chosen. “In any case, if no one has anything concerns to bring up, then we might as well get buffs refreshed on everyone and see what all of this is about.”

Moving to organize ourselves, we let the orcs continue to wait as we regrouped from our travels and recast our various spells to ensure that they wouldn’t run out at an inopportune time should something happen during our meeting. As we waited for that to finish, we also made sure to send a few runners to the others trailing us to fill them in on our plans and to also lay a few contingencies, should we end up needing them. Only once that was all done did Freya, Constantine, Amaranth, and I step out from our collective group and begin our trek towards the orcs’ offered flag, jogging partway of the distance, lest it takes us ages to walk to it. Making good time to cross the bulk of the intervening distance, we maintained our pace until a loud horn rang through the air, courtesy of the single orc standing amid those waiting at the flag.

“A signal maybe to call the boss?” Constantine suggested as we all slowed down to walk at the blaring note, instantly worried about what the signal might have meant. “Probably didn’t want to stand in the sun all day long.”

“Maybe,” Freya agreed as we continued to walk towards the waiting group, our eyes darting between them and the distant horde, which is what allowed us to spot the riders the instant that they appeared. “Oh, look there! Two mounted people just broke free of that lead tribe over there.”

“That was quick,” I mused as I stared at the oncoming riders as they rapidly approached. “Looks like they’re really eager to chat.”

“Sure seems like it,” Freya agreed, the four of us steadily continuing our journey towards the flag, the yards separating us from it slowly shrinking away with every step.

As it did, we were eventually able to better make out those waiting beneath it, my earlier suspicions of the flag being held by a pair of slaves proving to be true, the two figures resolving themselves into that of a collared arakissi and gronn. But as the pair came into view, so did the last member of the quartet who stood opposite the lone orc, the identity of the figure becoming readily apparent to each of us.

“Look at that. Unless I’m mistaken, that’s Hido,” Constantine said as we closed, the distant figure that was the elf swaying slightly from side to side as he shifted his weight between each leg, allowing the other a momentary break. “I wonder what he did to get stuck waiting out here for us.”

“Knowing Carver, probably not much,” Freya replied, her voice softening as she continued to speak. “But in either case, take a look at him. Is it just me, or does he look a little more beaten down than usual?”

“I was going to say the same thing,” I said, having noticed something off with his demeanor the moment I recognized him, something more than what standing idle in the sun all afternoon could possibly cause. “Maybe he’s starting to realize what sort of company he’s been keeping.”

“Maybe,” Freya said, the woman sounding like she wanted to say something else. But before she could, the lone orc barked out loudly, cutting off whatever train of thought she might have had.

“Close enough!” he shouted in a commanding voice, prompting us to come to a stop little more than thirty feet away from the group. “Wait there for the master and do nothing else! He comes now.”

“Oh, he seems friendly, doesn’t he?” Constantine muttered as the distant orc fell silent, his glaring expression fixated on each of us.

“Seeing as he’s not trying to immediately kill us, he’s probably the friendliest orc we’ve met so far,” I mused as I shifted my attention from the orc and onto Hido, seeing that our earlier assessment of the elf had, if anything, been too kind now that we were closer and could see him more clearly. Looking ragged and drawn out to what had to be near the point of breaking, the man looked like a former shell of what I recalled when we’d last met, the dark rings under his eyes and drooping posture visible from even this far away. Feeling completely taken aback by his appearance, I found myself at a loss for words of what to either think or say in reaction, at least until Amaranth’s voice filtered through my mind.

<His body quivers with fear, and his breaths come far too quick for one at rest,> he said to me, having sensed where my focus had drifted to through our shared link. <And as fearsome as our presence is, I doubt it is the cause. The others are as calm as a still pond, even the two who stand shackled by the rings of iron around their throats.>

<I wonder what has him so twisted up, then,> I replied back to the cat, noticing that Hido hadn’t even bothered to acknowledge us, his eyes fixated firmly on the dirt ahead of him with a completely blank expression written across his face. It was enough to make me wonder if the man had chosen to log off instead of spending his afternoon waiting here as he slowly cooked in the sun, though if that was the case, it didn’t explain why his body still appeared so anxious. <Maybe it’s because he knows they’ve set a trap for us?>

<Perhaps,> my familiar agreed as he shifted beside me. <Or because he fears those that approach to speak with us. Look, I can see the one known as Carver and his creature draw near, as well as the other orc beside him.>

<I see him too,> I replied as I glanced over towards the riders which had made excellent time in making their way to us—so much so that they had already dismounted from their horses and were striding towards us. Walking to the side and behind the lead figure, I easily spotted Carver by both the crimson spirit wolf beside him and by his trademark antlered helm, having found a new one to wear after missing it during the last battle we’d fought. Beyond that single new addition, however, the rest of the man’s appearance was largely as what I remembered from our last encounter, save for a hint of the same exhaustion I saw on Hido.

But that brief glance to scan over my rival was all the time I was able to offer before my gaze was pulled away, the sheer presence of the other orc beside him practically grabbing and dragging my eyes towards him. Dressed in a suit of heavy, night-black armor with a series of thick spikes set on each pauldron, the heavily muscled orc towered high over the adventurer following him, who since his mysterious change was far from small himself. Scanning over him carefully as he strode towards us with powerful steps, I searched the orc for any sign of a weapon that he might be carrying but was a little surprised to find nothing. There was no sword or axe hanging at his hip, no haft of a spear protruding from over his shoulder, nor anything else that I could see that even vaguely resembled a weapon. Unsure of what to make of that discovery, I shifted to look up towards the orc’s pale grey face, which was completely uncovered by any armor, and I found myself staring into a pair of yellow eyes. Marred with a ring of black corruption around them, the orc’s piercing gaze immediately unsettled me as it shifted to meet mine, forcing me to clench my teeth as I stared back, lest I accidentally tremble.

It was then, a half dozen seconds or so after I met the orc’s eyes, that the identifying tag finally flashed in my vision, confirming my thoughts as to its identity.

[Zhul the Shadoweater] – Faction Leader – Level 30

Arriving at the flag at the same moment that the tag appeared, Zhul only had to give the other nameless orc a single look before it turned to back away towards where they had left their mounts, the slaves following suit, taking the flag with them. It was only Hido that remained of the original four, the elf’s head turning to acknowledge both Carver and Zhul as they stepped beyond him. Coming to a stop just past him, the pair glared at us wordlessly, not even bothering to hide the anger and contempt written across their faces. Lasting for several seconds, the two continued to stare at us until just before the silence turned awkward, Zhul’s deep and grating voice broke it as he called out to us.

“In the name of Krol, Speaker of Riius and First of the Unshackled Horde, I have called you here to demand your surrender.”

And just like that, this meeting is off to a great start, I thought as the orc warlord spoke, taking special notice of his choice of words—particularly the name he’d used to describe the horde. Is that what they’re calling themselves now? And what exactly are they unshackled from, I wonder?

“Well, that’s one way to kick things off,” I mused loudly in response to the orc’s opening demand as I considered how best to even begin to reply to his demand, my attention sliding off him and towards the two adventurers by his side. “How about we back up a step before we get into the demands? Hi, Carver. Hi, Hido. Terrible to see you both on this fine day. I’m guessing this big meaty gothlike orc beside you both is Zhul, isn’t he?”

Reacting immediately to my flippant response, I saw a look of terror pass across Hido’s face as he finally looked up from staring at the ground at my feet, his eyes shooting up towards mine. It was something that I half expected, given his beaten and downtrodden appearance. What I didn’t expect, however, was the similar, if much more muted, expression to pass across Carver’s face, his eyes widening first with fear which was quickly replaced by anger.

“I have killed gloried warlords who have spoken with far less insolence in my presence, let alone an enemy who believes they have a sharp tongue,” Zhul stated dangerously before either of the pair could reply, hints of cold rage echoing in his voice.

“And we have died more times than any of us can count anymore, so you’ll find the threat of death to be a poor motivator for us,” I replied back to the orc in a dismissive tone while doing my best to appear outwardly unfazed by his anger, while, in reality, my thoughts raced at the fear I’d seen on Carver’s face. In my experiences, the man had been near unflappable, so to see him show a second of unease in front of the orc was something far out of character.

“So you think,” the orc stated, his head turning to indicate Hido standing at his right. “But we are well aware of what your kind is capable of. If death does not break you, then there are other means that will.”

“Well, doesn’t that just sound positively ominous,” I replied, wondering if Zhul had done something to Hido to turn him into the person I saw before me now.

“It should,” Zhul growled, his tone becoming impatient. “Now enough of this. I have given you my demand. What is your answer?”

“Yeah, about that actually,” I replied back to the orc, “it was pretty vague. I think I’d need to hear more about the terms you’re offering.”

“Terms?” Zhul repeated as if the word was something disgusting in his mouth. “There are no terms. You and your people will surrender without reservation or deceit, where you will then be collared and tasked to labor for the glory of the Unshackled Horde until your dying day. If you resist, all that you hold dear will be razed to dust and ash.”

“Huh,” I grunted as I listened to the orc’s words. “So it’s slavery until death or just outright death. I think that might be a little bit of a hard bargain to sell to my people. I don’t suppose I can put forward my own terms, can I? Something that I think would be more…acceptable?”

“No,” Zhul stated angrily, the orc’s patience visibility beginning to fray as he spoke, which prompted another anxious look from both Hido and Carver. “You will take the generous offer that my master has offered, or you will burn. It is on his will alone that I stand here to extend it to you at all, despite all the trouble that you have caused. Were it up to me, I would have not wasted my breath.”

“Ah, that’s a shame to hear,” I replied as my eyes shifted to glance between Carver and Hido. “Because I am going to give you my terms anyway. So I hope that you’re all listening.”

“You will free all the slaves you’re carrying into our care, right now, while also allowing any adventurer that wishes to leave this war the chance to accompany them free of harm. Afterward, you will march your horde back to Khudazal and go no farther than ten miles south of it. Once that is done, we will then meet to oversee the release of all other slaves within the city and discuss where our respective territories will begin and end.”

“You spit on Krol’s honor by speaking your useless words and thinking that you have anything more to offer him but your obedience,” Zhul hissed the second that I finished speaking.

“What I have to offer Krol, and you, for that matter, is your very survival,” I replied, not backing down from the orc. “What you don’t seem to understand is just how many of us adventurers are waiting for you if you decide to press on with this war. Not just here, but in the Fens of Swyn, Eberia, and beyond. You’ve already seen what a handful of us are capable of. Let alone thousands.”

“And you, in your arrogance, think what you have seen is the extent of what we are capable of,” Zhul countered as he shifted his stance in preparation to leave. “We are now free of the chains that bound us, hindered us, and the world will once again shake in our presence. Go back to your people and tell them of the offer that you’ve spurned on their behalf and let them see the fate that you’ve led them to.”

With that, the orc turned his back on us and began to walk back towards his distant mount, Carver belatedly moving to follow him after giving us a withering stare but remaining silent as he departed. Hido, on the other hand, stood standing for several seconds after the pair had turned to leave, before stumbling to follow, his head alternating between their turned backs and us, for a moment looking like he wanted to say something. But before he could make his decision a shadow fell over him, causing his eyes to widen in sudden panic, enough so that he promptly turned to follow Carver and Zhul, breaking into a jog to catch up to them.

“Huh?” I grunted in surprise to his sudden reaction, my eyes immediately darting upwards to look at what could have possibly cast such a large shadow. But as I did, I found that there was nothing there to see, the bright cloudless sky showing no sign of anything that could have cast it. “Wait, where is that—”

“Lyr, look,” Freya’s whisper interrupted me before I could finish speaking, both her and Amaranth on either side of me suddenly stiffening in surprise. “By the orcs. The shadows…they’re moving.”

Feeling a sense of dread shoot through me at the woman’s words, I turned my gaze back towards the distant orcs and was rewarded with another flutter passing through my heart, followed by my blood going cold. Stretching outward from where the orc horde had come to a stop until nearly to where we stood was a massive expanse of deepening shadow which continued to grow darker with every second that passed. Amid the sprawling space closer to us, I could make out faint motes of darkness beginning to coalesce, forming first into a sphere before growing outwards into a vaguely humanoid shape. Staring at one of them, I saw a tag appear in my vision, identifying the dark orb.

[Shadow of Corruption] – Level 26

“I think it might be time to leave,” I said as I scanned the field, seeing that there were easily dozens, if not already hundreds of the growing shadows, a good number of them close to us.

“I was just going to say the same thing,” Constantine commented as he pointed ahead. “Look, some of them have finished forming already and are starting this way.”

“Then let’s get our asses moving,” Freya replied in an urgent tone. “Because if we don’t, we’re going to get swarmed! Come on!”

Launching into action at the woman’s words, the four of us turned as one and began to sprint back towards where we’d left the others as fast as our legs could take us. But like an animal sensing fleeing prey, the moment that we turned to run, so did all of the fully formed shadows move to chase, racing after us in our wake. It was only thanks to our head start and faster speed that allowed us to stay ahead of them for the duration of our flight, just barely managing to avoid getting pulled into combat.

At least until we all arrived back at Aldford and couldn’t run any farther.

Chapter 63

“I need a new ward over here! This one’s burnt out!” I said as I slashed Savagery through the attacking shadow of corruption before me, the blade sweeping through its incorporeal body and causing it to explode in a spray of inky darkness. Stepping forward with the momentum of the attack, I used it to propel me towards a second of the creatures, repeating the process for a second time with similar results.

“I have already placed one!” I heard Garr call out through the clash of combat around me, the sounds of shouting voices and exploding magic almost drowning the man out. “It will take just a moment longer to activate!”

“Good!” I called back to the man as I rushed towards another cluster of both shadows and corrupted spirits that had invaded the palisade with Amaranth by my side, catching sight of Arcturus and Drace among them as I arrived.

Charging into them at a run, we arrived in a blaze of fiery magic as we both simultaneously bathed the creatures with Flameburst, searing their ranks with brilliant orange fire. Recoiling instantly from the magical flames, the ethereal invaders wasted no time in turning to respond to our attack, the next few seconds blurring into the chaos that was battle. But those few seconds were about all the challenge that the attackers were able to offer us, as shortly after we arrived, Garr’s ward activated and they began to writhe in agony, their bodies steaming with pale energy. After that, it was only a matter of finishing them off, those few that still remained standing being easily dispatched thanks to the crippling effects of the ward’s magic.

“Looks like we’re clear again here!” Drace called out after the last had fallen, the half-giant scanning down the length of the palisade for more threats.

“And so are we over here!” Aldwin answered back from farther down the line, his voice being matched by a handful of the others from our core group. “I think we have beaten them back for the time being.”

“At least until they next attempt to test us,” Arcturus stated with a low growl that only Drace and I could hear. “They will not stop until they wear us down to the bone.”

“And they’re doing a good job of it so far,” I commented with a sigh, feeling a surge of exhaustion shoot through me at the thought as I looked over the palisade walls and into the darkness that stretched beyond the tree’s light, the late night cutting my vision to only a couple hundred feet. “Anyway, where were we again before all of that interrupted us?”

“We just finished talking about Sierra, Kilgore, and the others,” Drace replied as our group slowly moved to reunite with one another along the palisade wall, the latest attack having forced us to abandon our walking meeting to fight it off. “They said they’re about as ready as they’re going to ever be, but need about two, maybe three hours’ notice before they kick things off. Past that, Fredric was about to catch us up on the state of the defenses right as things went sideways.”

“Right,” I said, recalling now where we’d left off as I turned away from the edge and glanced over towards the large warrior. “That was good to hear about Sierra and the others, then. I need about all the positive energy and news I can get right now.”

“You and me both, Lyr,” Drace grunted in a tired tone as a distant shout rang out from far down the wall from us, followed by several rapid flashes of magic, neither of us or Arcturus so much as flinching at the sound of it. “You and me both.”

It had been an especially long day since we’d been unceremoniously chased back to Aldford by the army of shadows that Zhul and his heralds had sprung on us. A day that had also effectively seen us penned inside the town for good, the rapidly growing swarm of summoned creatures that we’d been forced to drag behind us rushing to attack the settlement. Fortunately, however, with the adventurers in the town and our own forces, we were able to easily destroy those that had initially chased us, buying us a short time to recover and regroup.

At least until the next wave came, this one accompanied by a wave of corrupted spirits to aid them.

With our scouts spotting it approaching us long before it hit the town, we had plenty of time to ready ourselves for its arrival, once again fighting it back with little difficulty or damage. But as we discovered in the hours that followed, those two waves were far from all that the orcs had in store for us, with several more following after it in sequence, the gap between each growing shorter and shorter.

Until it vanished entirely.

Forced to deal with the constant pressure of the attacking spirits and shadows, we then found ourselves effectively besieged long before the orc horde even arrived at Aldford, all our efforts focused on keeping them at bay. So when they finally did finish their march southward towards us from Valor’s Point, there was nothing that we could do to prevent them from setting up their camp and digging in out of range of our weapons. Nothing except for watch them settle in from behind the palisade walls and array of wards that we’d managed to establish throughout the town.

Wards that we would be totally screwed without, I thought with a grimace as I twisted away from the warrior and glanced towards the newly replaced magical device, finding it glowing with a bright golden light with Garr standing directly beside it.

Created by both the mages and the gronn, the wards that we were now using throughout Aldford were a combination of various spells and enchantments that had been purposefully created to protect against the corrupted spirits. Capable of a variety of effects depending on its design, the major use of the devices was to prevent ethereal beings from both crossing their threshold or simply phasing through the palisade itself. Fortunately, according to Garr, the latter took a notable amount of energy for a spirit to do and was generally avoided by most of them in favor of a more direct approach, which in this case involved jumping, climbing, or flying over the wall to attack us. Other versions of the wards at our disposal either hindered any spirits within their range, reducing their ability to fight, or burned and damaged them the longer they lingered within its range, such as the [Greater Spirit Ward of Searing] that Garr had just activated.

“This should hold them back for a time here,” the gronn announced, turning to look towards me as he noticed my gaze. “Long enough at least for us get another barrier ward in place and re-layer our defenses.”

“Here’s to hoping,” I replied, shifting my attention away from the man and towards Aldwin, who was approaching us with Freya, Veronia, Ritt, and Halcyon following behind him. “I think you were up next Fredric. You were saying about our defenses?”

“Erm, yes,” the bann replied with a slightly embarrassed cough. “Aside from the unfortunate timing of that burnt-out ward, I was going to say that we are in as good a shape as we can hope to be when it comes to our defenses, or at least our more conventional ones. We’ve managed to finish laying in all the additional trenching, murder holes, traps, and a handful of other surprises more than what we’d originally planned for on the town’s eastern side before these creatures attacked us.”

“I cannot say what the orcs’ plans are for a more physical assault, but I know that when they do, they will find themselves forced to climb through much in order to just reach the river’s edge, let alone the town itself.”

“During which, we’ll also be sure to make their lives as miserable as possible,” Halcyon affirmed, prompting a series of nods and grunts from everyone in the group.

“The rest of their short lives, I hope,” Ritt added, speaking in a surprisingly unperturbed tone given the battle that he’d just been a part of.

“If all goes to plan then, yes,” Fredric stated, his tone cautious. “Though I am certain they will try to find a way to do the same to us.”

“Well, we’ll be ready for whatever they want to try,” the merchant-turned-logistician said confidently as he took over for the bann, his hand coming up to the familiar form of Noodles that hung around his neck as he spoke. “Dunedin and I have made sure that we’re set up for everything that the orcs could possibly throw at us throughout every part of the town. We have water and sand barrels set up for fires, as well as caches for stuff like these new wards, potions, extra weapons, whatever, just name it. It’ll save on anyone running on shortages if things get rough or keep them from needing to run across half the town in order to resupply.”

“That’s perfect, Ritt,” I replied, full well appreciating the man’s organizational ability and insight to make sure that everything we could possibly need while fighting was readily at hand throughout the town. With the current orc tactic focusing on wearing us down with constant attacks by the spirits and shadows, we needed to make things as easy as possible for our defenders so they didn’t waste time or energy that they didn’t have just looking for supplies. “That’ll help us heaps in just being able to focus on the fighting and hopefully respond quickly to any surprises the orcs throw at us.”

“’Twas my hope,” the man said with a nod, his gaze wandering over towards Garr as he spoke. “Past all of that, we still have our crafters working on churning out what they can before battle really begins. But given the way the day’s gone so far, their efforts are largely being focused on making more of these wards with the help of the other gronn and spellcasters. We have a good stash of them to last a while…but we’re also going through them pretty quickly now.”

“Given how effective they’ve proven to be so far, you’ll hear no argument from me in making sure that we have an ample amount,” Veronia stated.

“Nor from me either,” Aldwin added. “Right now, these wards are the only thing allowing us to rotate defenders off the walls so that they rest. If only briefly.”

“Pretty much what Léandre and I thought too after the initial attack,” Ritt affirmed with a nod as he glanced over towards the pair, then back over at me, his face brightening with sudden recollection. “Oh! Right. Speaking of Léandre, he’s asked for your help if you have any time to spare, Lyrian. He said something about helping him assemble armor and weapons. But he understood if you, and I quote ‘were too busy keeping the town safe from unspeakable horrors that are looking to ruin all my hard work’.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s on my list to get to,” I replied, chuckling a bit at the craftsman’s choice of words, remembering that I’d promised him that I’d help finish creating another few dozen sets of level thirty gear. It had been unfortunate timing that the day had seen me running around outside of Aldford instead of spending it crafting, but one that had been necessary for us to start integrating the new adventurers into our ranks. “I’m going to knock on wood as I say this, but barring something drastic coming up, I hope I’ll be able to go help him soon as I’m done with my next meeting with all the other guild leaders.”

Of course, the second I said that a loud thunderclap of magic echoed out from somewhere along the palisade, prompting us all to turn and look towards it.

“Looks like they have it in hand over there,” Ritt said after a few seconds of staring as a loud staccato of detonating magic echoed out, followed by a distant golden light of a fresh ward activating. “In either case, I’ll let Léandre know your plans. Hopefully, they’ll end up working out.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed in a dry tone as I continued to look ahead at where the brief battle had taken place, eventually pulling it back towards the group, focusing my attention on those had yet to give their update, which in this case was both Veronia and Halcyon. “Anyway, moving on from there. I think it’s just you two that are left with updates now. Who wants to go first?”

“I can. It is rather brief and should not take long,” Veronia replied, glancing over towards Halcyon as she spoke, who simply nodded and motioned for her to continue. “Ah, thank you. I am happy to say that we were able to evacuate all settlers that still remained on the farmland to the west of us, thanks largely to the help of Natasha and Bax. They have both settled in easily among the people there, and the community they’ve formed looks up to them. When the warning to flee arrived, they were able to get everyone moving immediately to take shelter here in town. As far as I know, we didn’t even suffer an injury, let alone lose anyone.”

“That’s great to hear then, on both accounts,” I said, breathing an inward sigh of relief at the news. With how rapidly the day had turned on us, and how busy it had become afterward, I’d been worried that there’d been people left out in the cold after the siege had started. To hear that everyone was safe, or at least as safe as they could be given the situation, was another bit of good news that lessened the burden that I felt on my shoulders.

“So I thought as well,” Veronia said before continuing. “And add to that, so far we haven’t seen any signs of the orcs looking to cross the river west into the farmland, nor have we seen them turn their eye southward to march past us. I’m not certain how long it will last, but at the moment, their attention is solely fixated on us.”

“Which we’ll take as long as they want to give it to us,” Freya stated. “I know the few crops and homesteads that the settlers managed to set up out there are few and far between, but it’d be a shame to see all their work go to waste.”

“It absolutely would,” I said, hoping the same. “But that’s unfortunately out of our hands now.”

“So it is,” Veronia agreed, shrugging her shoulders as she glanced over towards Halcyon. “That is all I have of my tasks. Fredric and Ritt have already covered the rest.”

“Great!” Halcyon exclaimed as he took over for the woman. “Well, so I guess I’ll start my update with the obvious. As I’m sure you can all tell, we’re no longer itching uncontrollably anymore.”

“That we sure aren’t,” Drace replied as everyone in the circle shifted uncomfortably at the memory of the war hex that the orcs had afflicted on us shortly after our arrival—one that had made each of us feel as if we’d been bitten by a swarm of mosquitoes. “Thanks for that by the way. I don’t know how long we would have lasted with that curse afflicting us. After five minutes, I was ready to crawl out of my own skin.”

“Hopefully, we won’t need to find out,” the mage stated. “In either case, we managed to block their curse by finally figuring out how to tap into the tree’s mana and use it to power something that Stanton and Donovan call a ‘dispersion aura’. Without getting too far into the magical side of things for everyone, it basically disenchants any magic that tries to pass through it, so if the orcs decide to throw a few bigger spells our way…such as say, magical fireballs, it should catch them too. Unless they’re too big, but that’s just not likely, else they’d be doing it already.”

“That’ll be handy,” I replied, intrigued by what Halcyon had said. “How did you end up figuring out how to tap the tree for mana?”

“By using that security servitor you saw the other day,” he answered. “And from some timely help from Garr, too.”

“The itching made for good motivation to find any solution that worked,” the gronn said helpfully. “It also gave us the cause to try a more…direct approach that I had tried advocating for earlier.”

“Oh? And what was that?” I asked, seeing Halcyon wince at the man’s words. “Or better yet, do I want to know?”

“It’s nothing too crazy,” the mage replied, looking a little embarrassed at the question. “We just…tapped the tree—I mean that literally, by the way. We tapped it—like people tap trees for maple syrup. Except what we’re getting is mana, sort of at any rate. You’d have to see it to understand, but we basically jury-rigged a bunch of æthertouched iron spikes and rods that Léandre made for us until we connected it to the servitor. Then we put the thing into some sort of assist mode that Caius discovered and cast the dispersion spell through it. Technically, it’s the servitor that’s now channeling the spell on its own for us so none of us need to manage it.”

“Huh,” I grunted as I tried to mentally picture the setup that he’d described and felt myself come short. “Well, so long as it works, I guess however you guys did it is great. Though you do have me more than a bit curious to look at the setup.”

“It’s rough, and it’s ugly, but it works,” Halcyon said. “And unfortunately that comes to my next point too. It’s fragile. Very fragile. One good hit from something can easily break the tap and cause the spell to end. Though at the same time, if anything’s already close enough to hit the thing, we’re probably screwed anyway, but I figure that you all should probably know regardless. Unless any of you fancy another case of the itchies or whatever other curses the orcs might have for us.”

“Yeah, I’m going to go with a hard no on that,” Freya said with a shake of her head. “I don’t care how many times I die, I’ll make sure that no one breaks the thing.”

“It’ll be you and Samuel then,” Halcyon said, using his head to vaguely motion in the direction of the tree. “I was going to say as well, that between the orcs arriving and us working with the tree, he finally managed to come out of his shell. Almost completely now. So he’s been helping us out as best he can. The plan is for him to monitor the spell at the servitor and allow the rest of us to go where’s needed once the orcs attack.”

“Oh, that’s great news to hear!” Freya exclaimed in a happy tone. “I haven’t been able to check in on him nearly as much as I liked, but I’m glad he’s doing better.”

“He is—for the most part, at least,” Halcyon said, a wary expression crossing his face. “But I think he has a few things to work through still, since he’s a fair bit angrier than I remember, specifically towards the orcs and the Dread Crew. Granted, that’s pretty understandable given what’s happened to him, but we’ve all noticed it.”

“Then it’s worth it for all of us to keep an eye on as well,” Aldwin said in a serious tone. “Battle shock can wreak terrible harm if left to fester, no different than a wound of the flesh. Perhaps now that he is talking and willing to interact with the world, he can speak with Shelia and get the aid he needs.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” the mage agreed. “I’ll see if I can’t stop in to mention it to her once we’re done here. Just so she knows as well.”

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” I said as Halcyon’s—and by extension, the last of the assembled group’s—updates came to end, which only left us with the main topic for our meeting. “Okay, so with all of that, I think I have enough to catch up the others when I talk to them and make sure they’re all in the loop of what’s going on. That said though, I know that as soon as I’m done with my updates they’re going to ask me what our plans are to do something about the orcs, and I want to be sure that we all have a consistent plan of action to tell them.”

“You mean something more than ‘kill the orcs when they finally come calling’?” Ritt asked. “They know that we’re in a siege now, right? We’re not exactly in a position to dictate anything anymore.”

“I’m fairly sure they’ve figured that out by now,” I replied in a dry tone. “But I think they’ll be looking more for things like timelines, assuming it’s even possible to offer one better than a guess. It’s clear that the orcs are looking to wear us down before attacking, but for how long? Three, four, five days maybe? Or longer, even? The orcs have to know that we’ll be able to hold out for weeks, if not a month or more unless they hit us hard. With what we did to their gardens back at Khudazal and burning out the surrounding landscape here, their food situation probably won’t allow them the luxury to wait that long.”

“Which makes me wonder again why they’re in so much of a hurry to attack us in the first place,” Freya commented, shaking her head at the thought. “They’re clearly in a bad position and would be better off pulling back and regrouping.”

“Unless, of course, their food situation isn’t as dire as we seem to think?” Drace theorized, his attention shifting over towards Garr and Arcturus in question. “Could they have stored food ahead of time for something like this?”

“Individual tribes may have, but only enough to last them a short while,” Arcturus answered as he considered the half-giant’s words. “But during our enslavement, there were no signs of such preparation on a large scale, for they would have had the slaves do it for them. It is why we focused our efforts on blighting the gardens. Many, if not nearly all of the tribes, were wholly dependent on their bounty every day to keep themselves fed.”

“So then in the absence of better information, we still assume that they’re likely short on food and are relying on what they can scavenge from the land or capture from us to feed them,” I said, receiving a pair of nods from both Garr and Arcturus. “Which then brings us back to our original point. How long do we think the orcs can afford to test us with their spirits and shadows before committing to an attack?”

“Less than a week, if you ask me,” Freya said, her head turning towards Garr and Aldwin. “And I think that depends a lot on orc politics too. If our attack on their city made Zhul look weak, like you’ve both suggested, then that would make him more likely to attack sooner rather than later, wouldn’t it?”

“Based on my experiences, I would agree,” the bann answered. “These orcs may have changed from what I recall facing during the war, but I do not believe that they have changed so much as to tolerate weakness, perceived or otherwise, in their leaders.”

“I would agree to that as well,” Garr added with a nod. “However, if I were to predict when the orcs would assault us, I would say as early as tomorrow, if not even overnight.”

“Wait, you think they’ll hit us that fast?” Freya asked, sounding more than a little surprised at the gronn’s assessment. “Why? Compared to what they did at Valor’s Point, they spent days softening our defenses with the constant spirit attacks and trying to corrupt as many of us as possible. And even then, their attack cost them.”

“Because of the storm that is approaching,” Garr replied as if that answer made perfect sense, only to pause as we all stared back at him with blank expressions.

“Storm?” I repeated in confusion. “What storm?”

“The one that will likely blanket this region tomorrow sometime,” the gronn answered, his brow furrowing as he glanced between me and the others. “Did your earthspeakers not already tell you this today?”

“No, how would they have—” I started to reply to the man before it suddenly hit me. “You can predict the weather.”

“Yes, of course. To some degree at least,” Garr answered, his expression turning both curious and a little hesitant. “Can…can your earthspeakers not? It is a fairly common ability among my people, especially among those who tend our crops and fields as I once did. I was able to sense a hint of it in the air just this morning when I awoke, and more so now that the day is nearly over.”

“If they can, none of them have ever bothered to mention it to us,” I replied as I mentally kicked myself for not even thinking to take the weather into account after the long string of bright and sunny days that we’d had for the better part of the month. “And the thought to ask never even crossed my mind.”

“Nor did it cross mine to mention either until this moment,” the gronn said, his voice sounding a little embarrassed. “Among my people, and even during our enslavement among the orcs, we kept postings of what nature was thought to bring us for all to see, and to determine which earthspeaker was most accurate with his foretelling. I’d thought that perhaps similar had been done here, but I never found myself with the time to search for it.”

“It’s been a busy few days since we all got here,” I replied, using a hand to wave that point away. “In either case, that doesn’t matter anymore. At least we found out ahead of time. What can you tell us about the weather tomorrow then?”

“With complete certainty?” Garr quantified. “That at some time tomorrow an exceptionally large storm will arrive over this region down from the north or northwest, breaking a morning of exceptionally withering heat.”

“And with less certainty?” Freya queried as we all focused our attention on the gronn.

“That the storm’s leading edge will arrive anywhere from early-morning to late-afternoon and then linger over us for at least a day,” he said, sniffing the air as he considered the question. “Though given its size and what I have experienced before, I would not be surprised to see it last as many as three nights and a day before it either passes over us or disperses.”

“That would be quite the storm indeed then if it lasts so long,” Aldwin mused, turning so he could glance over the edge of the palisade and at the fields that stretched beyond it. “It would drench the earth until it turned to mud, perhaps even cause the river to flood and soak it even further. No attacker, even an orc warlord beset with questions about his leadership, would dare attack through such. Not unless they wanted to lead their people into certain death.”

“No, I do not think they would either,” Garr agreed as he turned to look towards me. “And I know for certain that there were a handful more of my people’s earthspeakers among the tribes that departed Khudazal before your rescue. Enough so that Zhul would be able to demand foretellings from them if he thinks to ask. Or if not them, then from the few earthspeakers that the orcs themselves may have.”

“I see,” I said as I considered the implications that the coming storm brought. “And if for some reason he doesn’t know already, he’ll figure it out quickly when he sees the clouds coming in the sky.”

“So he will,” Arcturus stated with a confident growl. “And when he does, I feel he will strike at us immediately as Garr says. Zhul is many things, but a fool is not one of them. He will look at his food stores along with the morale of his warriors and know that they will dwindle with each day that he spends waiting.”

“And if he attacks early before the storm arrives, he’ll be able to actually field that massive siegebreaker of his,” Drace added, motioning vaguely towards the distant army as he spoke. “Because once the ground gets wet enough, that thing is almost guaranteed to sink in the mud with how heavy it has to be. And if he doesn’t, then he’s going to burn through its lifespan while it sits around and does nothing, and that’ll leave him in an even worse position.”

“That is a good point too,” I said as I turned my gaze to follow the warrior’s arm over the ramparts, suddenly wishing that we had a way to not only cause it to rain sooner, but to have it do so long enough until the orcs’ food completely ran out.

That would make things far too easy for us, though, I thought wistfully as I let out a sigh and turned back to look at everyone, finding myself with more to worry about than I’d originally expected since the meeting began.

“I’ll tell the other guild leaders that an overnight or early attack tomorrow is most likely on the cards for us and to make sure that everyone gets enough rest through the night,” I said while scanning between each of them. “Or if it doesn’t end up happening, that we’ll have a few days of rain and more waiting to look forward to.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” Drace replied with a nod, his words earning a nod from everyone in our circle.

“I would most certainly agree with that,” Aldwin said. “We should also begin to spread the word to those on the walls about our theory as well. If the orcs are already planning to attack us come morning, they will likely look to tax our defenders as much as possible overnight.”

“It also wouldn’t be a bad idea to go around and check on things either,” Freya suggested. “It’s been a few minutes since I last heard a bang or a shout, and that’s about the longest break we’ve had in hours.”

“Huh, I suppose it is,” I said, not having realized that the night had fallen silent while we’d been talking. “I almost didn’t even notice.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Drace grunted as our meeting then effectively came to an end, everyone moving to break apart into their separate groups as they readied to get on with what remained of their night. “I’m sure it won’t last.”

“Hey, you never know,” I replied as I waved goodbye to Freya, Aldwin, and the others as they moved to continue touring the ramparts, with Ritt, Halcyon, and Amaranth joining me in heading back into the town. “Maybe they ran out of spirits to attack us with.”

“If only,” Freya called back with a snort as she and the others waved back before our two groups parted ways. “Take care, guys. We’ll see you later. Good luck with the meeting too, Lyr.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “And the same to you all. Hopefully, it’ll stay quiet a little while longer.”

We ended up managing to take about ten steps before a loud peal of magic and a round of shouting broke the silence.

Chapter 64

Saturday, April 27th, 2047 – 12:05 a.m.

“Lyr, you’re back,” Freya’s tired voice greeted me as I stepped into our room, causing me to glance up and see the woman lying on the bed through the faint light of the lamp beside her. “How did everything end up going?”

“Pretty well,” I replied as I turned and closed the door behind me. “The meeting with the guild leaders was pretty straightforward, and they’re all taking steps to be ready if Zhul decides to attack tomorrow. Then past that, I managed to finish off everything that was waiting for me with Léandre, plus swap a bunch of spells with Janus and the other spellswords that are here now. We now have another dozen or so sets of level thirty armor and weapons to go around for those that need it, and I have five brand new spells that I can’t wait to put to use.”

“That’s perfect,” the woman replied sleepily. “I’m sure they’ll make a huge difference.”

“I’m sure!” I said, still so excited from all the spells that I’d managed to get that I couldn’t help but want to check over them once again, glancing at my spellbook which I had left open in the corner of my vision.

Concussive Blast

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Range: 20 feet

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 20

Mana Cost: 160

Description: You unleash a targeted burst of magic at a nearby target, causing a wave of magical force to flare into existence.

Effect: When cast, this spell inflicts 30-60 points of Arcane Damage to your target and temporarily staggers them, possibly knocking them off their feet.

Frigid Grasp

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 20

Mana Cost: 170

Description: Summoning an intense magical frost in your hand, you send a freezing burst of cold through the first thing you touch.

Effect: You freeze the next thing you touch for 45-80 points of Cold Damage. Should this spell be used on a living creature, it will also temporarily slow its attack rate and movements for 5 seconds. This spell can also be used to freeze objects and liquids for a short period of time.

Shocking Touch III

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 25

Mana Cost: 250

Description: You charge your hand with a potent charge of electricity, discharging it through the first thing you touch.

Effect: Your shock the next thing you touch for 120-150 points of Electricity Damage. This attack can be conducted through metallic weapons, items, and water.

Cone of Cold III

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: Instant

Arcane Tree: Evocation

Spell Mastery: Evocation - Level 25

Mana Cost: 320

Description: You unleash a blast of arctic wind before you, freezing and slowing any who are caught in its blast.

Effect: You instantly cast a wave of freezing energy centering from either your hand or mouth, dealing 230-300 cold damage to everything in front of you.

Protective Shielding

Type: Spell, Class Skill

Duration: 1 hour

Arcane Tree: Conjuration

Spell Mastery: Conjuration - Level 25

Mana Cost: 500

Description: You conjure a subtle shield of magic around your body, granting you an additional layer of defense against physically attacks and spells.

Effect: While this spell is active, you gain +150 armor and +12% spell resistance.

Already knowing what they all contained, it only took me a pair of seconds to skim over the array of spells, the delay allowing my mind to quickly catch up to itself, and somewhat belatedly flag the exhaustion that I hadn’t immediately noticed in Freya’s voice. “Hang on a second, did I wake you coming in?”

“Hm? Oh, no, not at all,” she answered with a shake of her head, her eyes looking a little glassed over despite her words. “I just fell in here barely ten minutes ago and have been trying to wind down by reading over my paths and figuring out which one is best to take.”

“Ah, I know that struggle,” I said with relief as I moved to join the woman, stripping out of my armor and sending it vanishing away into my inventory. “Any standout choices so far? And what about an advanced class? Have you made a choice on that one already?”

“I think I have,” Freya replied with a nod, sliding closer towards me as I crawled into bed. “And that one is the ‘valkyrie’ class, which beyond fitting my name perfectly is pretty much everything I was looking for. I’ll get some limited spellcasting ability to start, which is a healing spell and two different types of protective shields—one for myself and one I can cast on others—as well as a class specialization for polearm fighting.”

“That sounds pretty useful,” I said, listening closely to her overview. “You really can’t go wrong with healing, especially not with the way our luck tends to run. What were the other class options?”

“My thoughts exactly,” she said before going on to answer my question. “My other options were between the ‘myrmidon’ class, which is basically a heavy-plated damage dealer which focuses on the high-strength, high-damage mentality. Kinda fun at first glance, but a little bland for my tastes.

“As for the other one, I got the ‘sentinel’—it is a tanking class that focuses a mix on being tough as sin as well as quick-footed and smart to survive or avoid getting hit. Lots of parry and dodge abilities as well as a few weapon-based ones. You know, bleed attacks, precision blows, the usual.

“It’s really not a bad class all things considered,” the woman stated, pausing for a second to take a breath, “but it’s not something I’m really interested in. Between Drace, Abaddon, Mithaniel, and a handful of others, we have a ton of frontline tanks, and the class just doesn’t speak to me the same way the valkyrie one does. I really like having the extra flexibility the spellcasting brings, even if it doesn’t make me as great a tank or damage dealer. Does that make any sense?”

“It does to me,” I replied, full well understanding where Freya was coming from since I largely shared the same mindset. “So then what are your path options?”

“Well, they’re all pretty much in the same vein as their ‘ideal’ classes, but there are two that are tripping me up,” she said, her eyes losing focus as she consulted something floating in her vision. “The first is a trait that I guess would be paired with the sentinel class, called ‘Indomitable’, which changes the hit point scaling of what the Constitution attribute normally offers. Instead of scaling at eleven hit points per point, the trait bumps it up to sixteen, which I don’t have to tell you is a huge boost.”

“Shit, no kidding!” I replied, feeling my eyes widen as I did the mental calculation compared against my own stats. “That would net me…geez, almost five hundred hit points. At least, I think so. It’s too late to do math. But it would only continue to scale from there.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly,” Freya said. “Plus, taking that path would still give me a good cross-section of combat and survival abilities as I leveled, not to mention a good attribute progression. There’s not really a downside that I can see.”

“I can’t recall having a larger pool of hit points ever being one,” I agreed. “What’s the other competing choice?”

“One called ‘Battle Seer’,” Freya answered, her eyes focused back on me as she spoke. “It’s the obvious pair for the valkyrie class, and based on its description, it would occasionally grant me a sort of prophetic insight to how a pivotable moment in a battle or duel could go, in addition to a flat boost to dodge and parry. From what I understand of the core ability, I’d be able to see a critical hit, death blow, or anything really that would change the flow of battle a few seconds before it happened, giving me a chance to change or avoid it.”

“Whoa, now that could be handy,” I said, instantly seeing the value in the trait. “You’d be able to react and counter before people even know what they’re going to do.”

“Exactly,” Freya stated with a nod. “And that could be more valuable on a group level than what a bucket of extra hit points can provide me personally. Especially with the healing and shields that I’m getting as part of the class itself. The only downside, if there really is one, is that the attribute progression splits to include intelligence and willpower, which I guess I’ll need if I can cast spells, but it would be at the cost of having the physical ones grow naturally.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the tradeoff for being able to fight and cast,” I said, knowing full well the difficulties of needing to maintain multiple attributes to stay effective. “But we do have a bit more flexibility now in armor crafting, so we can help bridge any attribute gap on that end of things.”

“That’s true,” Freya replied in an intrigued tone before going on to shake her head. “It’s been such a long day, I didn’t even think about that.”

“Which goes to show just how long a day it’s really been,” I said, pausing for a second to check the time. “Or was, rather. It looks like it’s just after midnight now.”

“Huh, looks like it is,” the woman said, her expression changing as she suddenly sat up and turned even further towards me. “Wait, that means it’s finally the twenty-seventh! Today’s the big day when we finally get to see what that crystal of yours finally does!”

“Ha, yeah, it’s about time isn’t it?” I replied, the approaching countdown for the skill crystal that I’d found after repairing the ley line having been at the back of mind for the last few days. “It’s hard to believe that it’s already been four weeks since all that happened.”

“It’s also hard to believe that it’s only been four weeks since all that happened,” Freya stated before going to motion eagerly towards me. “How long do you have left before it finishes doing…whatever it is that it’s doing?”

“Just under fifteen minutes by my last count,” I replied as I called the crystal out of my inventory and into my hand, its now brightly glowing emerald light casting a handful of shadows across the room. Holding it tightly, I called up its description once again, checking it over to see just how much time was left.

Legacy of the Nafarr

Item Class: Magical

Weight: 0.1 kg

Lore: Shimmering with a strange emerald glow from within, this crystal contains the fragmented memories of the Nafarr that once lived in this region from eons past.

Special: Skill Crystal – By activating this crystal and keeping it in close proximity for four consecutive weeks, you will gradually absorb the knowledge stored within. Upon completion of the process, you will be granted full understanding of the Nafarrian language as well as a wide cross-section of knowledge regarding their culture. Should the crystal leave your possession before the process is complete, you will have to begin the process anew. Upon successful absorption of the knowledge, this crystal will dissolve.

Time Remaining Until Activation: 12 minutes, 34 seconds.

“Ah, that’s not long at all, then. We can easily wait it out,” Freya commented, her eyes going down to the crystal as she spoke. “What do you think will happen when it’s done?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” I said with a shrug. “From its description, it says that I should be absorbing the knowledge in the crystal, but I certainly haven’t felt any different or know anything that I didn’t beforehand. I’m thinking that I’ll probably get a bunch of notifications as soon as it finishes…or maybe a vision or something, since these are supposed to be memories I’m absorbing.”

“Hm, maybe,” she agreed. “Hopefully, whatever happens still gives you a chance to rest tonight. I know we technically have the night off from watching the walls, but that doesn’t mean much if we don’t sleep.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I said while silently hoping that I was right. “And hey, maybe there’ll be something in this crystal that’ll give us some insight into what Carver said before about the Nafarr and this ‘Unshackled Horde’ that Zhul mentioned. It seems like they both know a hell of a lot more than we do about something regarding their joint history. Something that maybe doesn’t line up with what we think we know.”

“Yeah, I caught a sense of that too,” Freya said. “Though what, I have no idea. Maybe it has something to do why they seem like they’re in a rush to attack us? I mean, if I were in their shoes, there is just no way I’d be pressing an attack right now. Not unless there’s something we’re really missing, or if we’ve grossly underestimated them.”

“I wish I could say either way, but like I’ve said before, nothing stood out to us during our raid, nor do Garr, Arcturus, or any of the other gronn know anything either,” I replied with another shrug. “If they really are in a rush for something, we either caused it due to our raid, or they really hid it well from everyone beforehand.”

“Hrm,” the woman grunted before going on to shake her head and pull herself even closer towards me. “It’s a mystery, then. Hopefully, one that won’t end up biting us.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed as I shifted to accommodate her movements, while also being extra careful not to break my grip on the skill crystal. With me finally being this close to it activating, the last thing I wanted to do was to be forced to start over and wait another four weeks.

“Anyway,” Freya went on to say as she snuggled close to me, “we still have a bit of time with us, and I don’t think you’ve had a chance to spill yet about your paths and advanced classes. Did you get anything good?”

“Ah, I guess I haven’t,” I said, once again realizing just how out of control our day had become after Zhul had dropped all of his shadows on us. So to remedy that, I spent the next few minutes catching Freya up on my choices and what I thought about them after having a bit more time to think about it. “…the choice for me right now is between the kensai and the spellstriker classes and their matching paths. I really like both, but I’m not sure yet on which way I’ll go. I’m kinda leaning towards the second one a little bit more since it has the promise of versatility and to always be useful.”

“And magic too,” Freya pointed out. “Sometimes I wonder if you wouldn’t have been better off being a pure mage.”

“Ha, yeah, if I could go back knowing what I know now, I might very well have gone that way,” I said, the thought having crossed my mind more than once in the past. “But the continued magic progression is something that I really do like about the spellstriker.”

“Then you might have your answer there,” she suggested. “Especially with that balanced path you told me about.”

“Maybe. I think I just need to sleep on it a bit too and see if I end up changing my mind,” I said, my focus shifting towards the crystal as I spoke, which had steadily continued to grow brighter and brighter as the minutes wore on. “Speaking of which, it won’t be much longer until this thing finally pops. Then we can get on with our night.”

“Oh, and I can’t wait for that,” Freya replied, the tone in her voice clearly suggesting what she had in mind to wind the night down with.

“Mmm, me either,” I said as I leaned over to kiss her, the remaining couple minutes left on the crystal’s countdown passing far too quickly for either of our liking. By the time that it did, though, the light coming from the crystal had grown to the point where it was impossible to ignore, bathing the room completely in a brilliant emerald hue.

“Damn, that’s getting really bright!” Freya said with a wince, partially using a pillow to shade herself from its intensity. “I don’t suppose you can turn it down?”

“If only,” I replied while squinting at the shard in my hand, just barely being able to see its outline through the light. “But there’s only a few more seconds lef—”

I never had a chance to finish my sentence before the crystal abruptly went dark as if it had been purposefully switched off just as Freya had requested. But no sooner did it do so, did I feel it come apart in my hand, turning into a pale green mist that seeped between my fingers. Staring at it in wonder for a second, I had just enough time to see the crystal’s remains do a single circuit around my now-closed fist.

Followed by it flying straight at my face.

Chapter 65

“Whoa!” I shouted in surprise while trying to flinch away from the mist as best I could from my reclined position in the bed, but I quickly found that I had nowhere to go, my head hitting the headboard behind me with a loud thump. It was just a second later that the crystal’s remains slammed into me with an almost physical force, sending my head bouncing hard for a second time.

The only difference with this bump, however, was that everything turned completely black afterward.

Ow! Where did everything go? I exclaimed at first with what I thought was my voice, but I quickly realized had been with my mind instead. Confused by what was happening, I tried to reach out towards where I’d last felt Freya, only to find out that I couldn’t, my body not responding to any of my movements. Hold on a second, what’s going—

It was then, at that moment, that I abruptly started to fall, my thoughts cutting themselves short as I desperately tried to windmill arms that I didn’t have in an attempt to catch myself on something, anything to stop my plummet. Despite my best efforts, however, nothing I did worked, resulting in a terrifying falling sensation gripping my stomach as I spun what felt like head over heels through a night of infinite darkness. Fortunately, though, the plunge proved to be short-lived as my feet abruptly slammed into solid ground and began to run, the void around me peeling itself back with an eruption of color and noise. Mentally wincing at the sudden barrage on my senses, I felt something hit me hard enough to take me off of my feet, causing me to fly through the air before landing in a heap.

Ugh, w-what the hell is going on? I thought through a burst of pain as I desperately tried to catch up with the rapid sequence of events since the crystal had activated, my body twisting as I rolled onto my back. Am I…am I…dreaming? Where am—Oh. Oh, wow.

Having continued to clear itself with every second that passed, I felt my thoughts abruptly freeze as my vision finally cleared at the same moment that I finished my roll, giving me a perfect view of the sky above me.

A sky that burned as if it were on fire.

Twisting and rippling with barely controlled magic, it was filled with a massive maelstrom of orange clouds that stretched upwards as far as my eye could see, countless streaks of brilliant, crimson lightning flashing throughout its gaping maw. Arcing from cloud to cloud as if it were a living thing, I saw a series of bolts lance out from amid the storm, each of them connecting with distant shapes that I could just barely make out. When they vanished as fast as they’d appeared, I could faintly make out several burning objects falling from the sky leaving a trail of ash marking their descent as they did so.

Where am I? I asked as my body moved of its own accord once again and rolled over, my vision shifting to reveal what was once finely cobbled stone street beneath me, a massive impact of some sort having burnt and shattered the majority of them. What is this place? And what the hell is going on here? Am I in some sort of…battle?

With the questions only continuing to build as I pushed myself back onto my feet, the cobblestone beneath me moved to reveal a razed city street filled with rubble, a line of partially destroyed rowhouses and buildings on its edge closest to me. Around me, I could hear countless voices shouting both nearby and in the distance, the cries occasionally drowned out by the sound of magic and combat. Regaining my balance slowly, I saw my silver-armored arm come into view as I planted it on a large fragment of stone and used it as leverage to help me rise the rest of the way. As I did, I heard someone call out, causing my head to snap to the side.

And land on what had to be a legion of similarly armored orcs as myself, picking themselves off the ground from whatever had knocked us down, their silver armor bearing blackened scorch marks across it.

“Get back on your feet!” I heard a harsh voice demand, it taking me a second to realize that it had come from me, all the orcs scrambling to move faster. But apparently not fast enough for my liking. “I said move! We don’t have time for you all to laze around!”

The second shout was apparently enough for the orcs to finish rising despite the obvious injuries that they all bore, one of them close to me cradling a visibly broken arm to their chest but offering no complaint in the process. It was then, during that rush of movement, that I heard the same voice as before calling out once again, this time its source revealing itself in the form of a smaller figure that stepped out from amid the rising orcs.

H-hold on a second, is that what I think it is?  I asked myself as my eyes darted up towards the somewhat humanlike face that appeared before me, her marble-hued skin blending almost perfectly with the silver helmet she wore. The only thing that stood out was faint azure veins that stretched across her face, each of them visibly glowing with magic. Is that…a Naffarian? Is all of this I’m seeing a memory from the crystal? Is this the city that once stood at Crater Lake?

Despite feeling more and more confused the longer that my surreal experience wore on, I, fortunately, didn’t have to wait long for an answer as the woman spoke in a quick and authoritative voice.

“Magelord!” she claimed as she strode forward, one of her hands rising up to touch the side of her helmet where I expected her ear to be as she listened to something. “The barriers have been shattered, and Exarch Xinnius is now calling for us to retreat and regroup with him at the second curtain’s entrance!”

“I can see that for myself, adept!” my voice replied, a flare of blind anger shooting through me at the woman’s words. “And why in the stars is he calling for a retreat? If the barriers have failed, we need to press forward to reactivate them, not fall back!”

“I’m sorry, magelord, he didn’t say,” she replied with a shake of her head. “He only told me that the Irovians have breached the outer walls to the east and that he needs every available hand to repel them before the first ring is lost.”

“The outer walls…have been breached?” I said, the anger that I felt instantly morphing into disbelief and fear. “But how is that poss—”

A deafening roar from high above suddenly interrupted me before I could finish speaking, the sheer power behind the mighty cry making it feel as if the ground beneath my feet was threatening to pull itself apart. Lasting for several seconds, I felt my fear morph into outright terror as a colossal shadow momentarily blotted out the sky, causing my eyes to dart back upwards.

And land on the massive two-headed dragon that was now flying high above us, twin pillars of fire billowing out from each of its maws towards something that I couldn’t see.

“N-no,” I heard myself whisper as I stared up at the silver-scaled creature, a complicated array of emotions shooting through me. “The rebels…not today. They can’t be…”

“They are,” the adept replied, her voice sounding suddenly different than it had a second earlier, enough so that it prompted my eyes to twist back towards her.

Just in time to see her run me straight through the chest with a brightly glowing glass-steel sword, its inner crimson light reflecting in her eyes as she glared at me.

“Freedom reigns,” she hissed in an angry tone as she violently twisted the blade, causing me to fall to my knees in agony, whatever magic that was within her weapon causing my body to seize, leaving me desperately trying to take a breath, let alone do anything else. “Today will be the last day that we live in a world of chains, one way or another.”

Then with her words finished, she withdrew her sword from my chest with a spray of blood and planted a hard kick in my side which sent me toppling heavily over, my head hitting the ground hard enough for my already darkening vision to blur. Dazed from the impact and bleeding out from what had to be a wicked wound, I lay there struggling to stay alive as the woman turned to face the orcs behind her, none of whom had so much even moved a finger to stop her attack.

“I am sorry that I must do this one final time, but it is in the name of all our freedoms,” I heard her say softly before her voice shifted to a higher and more authoritative volume, accompanied by a flare of magic emanating outward from her body. “Your magelord is dead, and I am assuming authority in his place! You will all obey my command!”

“Yes, mistress!” rang out the collective cry of all the assembled orcs. “We listen and obey!”

“Good, and I’m sorry again,” I heard her say one last time as the scene continued to darken, the pain and agony that I felt gradually fading away into nothingness. “Now, let us go find the exarch. He apparently needs our help.”

Then with those last words hanging on the air, my world abruptly went dark once more, followed by the ground giving out from under me and sending my consciousness plummeting once more through an infinite night. This time, however, the sensation wasn’t as jarring nor as fast as my first experience, allowing me an opportunity to process everything that I’d seen.

She betrayed him, I thought as I fell through an empty void, trying to make sense of what I’d seen in the memory. She betrayed him and…took his orcs…somehow? Were they being controlled by a spell or something? And then there was that dragon that appeared that must have been a signal of some sort. But not only that, they mentioned that the Irovians were attacking too. I wonder if this memory was from the last few days or maybe even the last few hours of the Nafarrian city that was once at Crater Lake?

Unfortunately, that was about all the time that I had to ponder the memory that I’d just experienced as the black veil lifted itself once again, causing a wild barrage of both colors and sound to assault my senses. This time, however, the transition only took a second to finish, reality snapping into focus at the same instant that I saw my glass-steel sword snap up to block a large golden axe belonging to the orc before me.

“Accept it, Nerius!” I heard a voice shout as I took the blow on my blade and deflected it to the side, instantly sending a twisting riposte that scored a long and bloody wound on the arm of where the orc’s similarly colored auric armor didn’t protect. “Your reign, our people’s madness, has come to an end! Illistra has fallen, and the Irovians flood into the city by the thousands as we speak! Surrender now and you might still be saved! Do not be a fool!”

“You will address your king properly when you speak! I command it!” a loud voice, presumably Nerius’s, shouted in response, echoing loudly through the large, domelike room that we fought in. “And you do not know the words you speak! Your actions will be the doom of our kind and all that we have built!”

“Look around you, Nerius. You command nothing anymore! We fight to save our people!” I found my voice shouting back as I continued to fight the orc, its tone identical to the woman’s that I’d just seen in the previous memory. “We are finally free of the chains that our ancestors bound us with! Let us free you as well!”

“You mean the bonds that they unified us with!” The vehement response came without a second’s hesitation, the thrum of powerful magic beginning to build in the air. “Without them, we will be vulnerable and divided for others to dominate again! I cannot allow you to succeed! I would rather die!”

“Damn it, he still has access to the Source!” A third voice shouted in response to the surge of energy. “Stop him before it’s too late!”

Feeling a sense of urgency shoot through me after that exchange, I heard myself whisper a curse at the same instant my magic-filled hand rose up before me. Blazing brightly with barely contained power, the spell that I was channeling discharged itself, sending a bar of brilliant azure light shooting straight at the orc attacking me. Connecting solidly with its chest, the magic was met with a brief instant of resistance against its armor before abruptly giving way and burning a fist-sized hole where the orc’s heart would have been. Feeling a profound surge of regret and sorrow wash over me as I saw my assailant collapse, my body shifted briefly to glance down the line that stretched out to my left, towards where I knew my allies would be.

Wait, are those…Irovians? I asked myself as my eye landed on a mixed line of both dark elves and nafarr, all fighting side by side against an opposing group of golden-armored orcs, all appearing identical to one that I’d just slain. What are they doing here? It looks like they’re helping us. But why?

Like before, however, the memory didn’t stop to give me any of the answers I was looking for, instead pressing onwards with the rest that it had to show me, dragging me along like the passenger that I was.

With my perspective then snapping away from the line of battle beside me, the next thing I knew was that I was running forward and darting through the gap that the orc had left when he’d fallen. Feeling magic that I couldn’t identify course through me as I moved, I effortlessly dodged an attempt to grab me by the orc my linemate had been fighting, rushing past him and into the open chamber that loomed behind. Building up speed as I continued to run, it only took me a second to spot my target in the form of a tall and powerfully built Nafarr dressed in a set of golden robes that billowed around them as he poured power into a crimson orb.

Feeling my heart leap at the sight, I pushed myself to run even faster while nimbly evading the countless chunks of stone debris that littered the ground between us, shouting out a wordless scream as I did so. Serving its purpose, the noise prompted the man to look up from the magic that he was channeling, his ash-colored face twisting into a scowl. Visibly straining as he did so, I saw him shift the orb to a single hand while raising the other towards me. Feeling my body tense in response, I had a single instant to reach for something before three balls of fire shot out from his palm, spinning in a spiral as they sliced through the air.

Before they could reach me, however, I threw a handful of what looked like powdered crystal into the air in front of me, creating a curtain of shimmering light. Whatever the substance was, it served as a perfect shield to catch the spell that had been thrown at me, the fireballs detonating the moment they touched it. Despite that, however, it didn’t completely block its effects, a wave of searing flames then washing over my body and causing me to hiss in agony. But that sensation was mercifully short-lived as this time a familiar surge of magic welled up from within me, so much so that I was able to recognize it as Blink Step. Lasting for the briefest of instants, I saw my surroundings blur the same way that they’d done so for me countless times before, the wall of fire replacing itself with the point-blank expression of the golden-robed Nafarr. Eyes widening with sudden surprise at my appearance, there was a momentary delay before I saw his lips begin to move in what I knew would be a spell that would kill me the instant that it finished.

But the Nafarrian king’s near-infinitesimal delay cost him that opportunity, leaving him with no chance to finish whatever deadly magic was on his lips as I thrust forward with my free hand, which had pulled free a second weapon from my belt. Putting all of my strength and momentum behind the attack, I felt it tear through the protections that the man had surrounded himself with as if they were paper, the enchantments snapping out of existence the instant that I touched them. Therefore, there was nothing but shock on the Nafarr’s face when the thin black crystalline shard I held in my hand buried itself in the center of his chest, causing his mouth to open in what looked like pure agony. Driving it into his flesh until my hand touched his robes with a surge of triumph, I sharply twisted on the shard, feeling the end that I was holding snap off, leaving the rest of it deep inside his body.

“I’m sorry that it has come to this,” I said as I raised my sword to deliver a killing blow to the half-stunned king, who staggered backward a step from my attack, one hand reaching up to clutch his chest while the other still held the burning orb, “but our tyranny finally dies today.”

Gritting my teeth as I steeled myself for what came next, I slashed downward with my blade towards the king’s exposed neck, not wanting to draw his suffering out any further. But despite his mortal wound, the fight had yet to fully leave him as he just barely managed to throw the arm at his chest upwards, catching the glass-steel edge on his robe-covered forearm. Biting deep into the protective fabric and then into the flesh and bone beneath, the motion was just enough to stop the blade, buying the man one final opportunity to speak.

“No,” he whispered back in a wet sounding voice, his bright, painfilled eyes meeting mine as he spoke. “Because of you, we all die today.”

With those words echoing through the air, I then saw him let go of the blazing orb he was holding onto, allowing it to fall towards the ground. Panicking at the sight, I tried to move to catch the falling ball of magic, my voice screaming a warning out in the process. But that single shout was all that I was able to do before the sphere touched the ground, everything around me vanishing in a blinding burst of fire and pain, relief only coming when the comforting veil of darkness fell over me once again.

And sent me plummeting once more through a well of infinite night.

She died killing the Nafarrian slave-king, I thought, breathing a mental sigh of relief now that the pain was gone, feeling somewhat unsettled at the sensation of being burned alive. Until now it had been a death that I’d been able to avoid experiencing myself—and one that I was certain I would take pains to avoid in the future. But that reprieve only lasted for a few seconds before the darkness around me was once again torn away, this time dropping me directly into a world of near-blinding agony that I could barely think through.

N-not again, damn it, I hissed mentally as my vision cleared once more, revealing to me a massive chamber that appeared to be all but destroyed, almost every inch of it seared completely black. So badly was it damaged, that it wasn’t until my golden-robed arm came into view that I realized where I was.

Or perhaps, more importantly, who I was.

Is…is this the king’s memory? He survived his spell? I asked myself through the pain as my arm reached out shakily to grab hold of the ground, using it as leverage to drag myself forward. Just how many of these memories am I going to—

“Stars damned…rebels,” my hoarse voice hissed as I continued to drag myself across the ground, the sheer anger and rage accompanying the words causing my thoughts to grind to a stop. “H-how…did they get so much venite? W-was it…f-from them? Or—”

A wracking cough suddenly rising up from within interrupted me, sending a renewed wave of agony surging through my body. Wheezing and hacking for several seconds, I eventually managed to spit something free that landed on the ground in front of me with a wet sounding slap, its sudden brightness attracting my attention. Blinking as I gazed at the glowing ooze, I saw it to be a nearly even mix of coagulated blood that contained countless azure shards that a part of my mind identified as mana.

Mana that had somehow managed to crystalize inside me and was now rending my body apart from within.

“Damn…it. Already,” I whispered weakly at the sight, my arm coming into view again as I began to drag myself across the floor once more, but this time with even more urgency fueling my movements. “I…don’t have much time left. I must…I must…”

Mumbling to myself as I continued to crawl across the floor, the next few minutes then passed with glacial slowness, the severity of the slave-king’s injuries causing my mind to retreat inwards on itself in attempt to distance itself from the pain. I wasn’t sure at all what this particular memory was trying to show me, but it was by far the most unsettling one that I’d experienced so far. Eventually, however, I finally reached whatever destination that I’d been crawling towards, which from what I could see was an ornate arcane circle that had been carved into the chamber floor. Breathing heavily from both my exertions and my injuries, I used the last of my strength to pull myself onto the circle before collapsing, laying my head down on the cool stone.

“S-source, I command you,” I said in the clearest voice that I could manage, a fleeting hope building in my chest as my vision began to dim.

<I am here, my king,> a genderless mental voice replied. <How may I serve you?>

“I-I must know…of the city. Of Illistra,” I stated, the hope I’d felt a second earlier blooming into a mixture of relief, sorrow, and strangely enough, terror. “How…how…does it fare? Do our defenders still resist?”

<One moment, my king, I will look,> the source replied, falling silent for several seconds before it resumed speaking. <I am sorry to report, but the city appears to have nearly fallen, the defenders routed. The Irovians have fully broken through the outer city and have captured—>

“Stop,” I ordered weakly, suddenly unable to hear whatever else the voice had to say. “What are the chances…that the defenders will rally and drive them away?”

<By my calculation, less than one percent, my king,> it answered dutifully. <As we speak, I sense a large group fighting their way towards my core. It is near guaranteed that they will succeed in disabling me. Once they have, Illistra will be under Irovian control for certain.>

“A-and we will all be thrown into bondage once again…if not slain outright,” I said, the inner almost alien terror that I felt before having grown with each word that I’d heard. So complete was the emotion that I felt my body begin to tremble, the shaking sending a burst of pain coursing through my body and prompting another round of vicious coughing. Lasting for a nearly a minute, it wasn’t until the ground before me was covered in a large pool of mana-tainted blood that I was able to collect myself, feeling the darkness in the corners of my vision creep inwards with surprising speed. “I…w-we…c-cannot have that happen. N-not…not again.”

Knowing that I had seconds left before the darkness took me, I cleared my throat for what I knew would be one last time, speaking with all the clarity that I had left.

“Source…activate ‘The Star’s Last Lament’ on my authority,” I said, feeling a profound sense of failure as I spoke the words. “If we cannot…stand together in life…then at least in death…we…we will all be…safe.”

Then with a shuddering breath following my final word, I felt the last dregs of energy that I had in me fade away, followed by the darkness swallowing me up in a blanket of nothingness.

He’s the one who destroyed the city, I said, breathing a sigh of relief as the memory’s pain faded from me, leaving me falling through the vast empty night that stretched all around me for a third time. He was so terrified about the Irovians capturing it that he destroyed it and everyone else within. But why? Why did he think that killing everyone would make him—all of them rather—safe? And what was he talking about with that other woman and their ancestors?

Burdened with more questions than I ever thought were possible about the memories that I’d just experienced, let alone what their purpose was, I found myself at a complete loss of what to even think, my mind feeling completely overloaded to the point of bursting. So it was then with complete relief and joy when I suddenly heard Freya’s voice pierce through the veil that surrounded me, grabbing onto it like a drowning man grabbing a life preserver.

“Lyrian!” I heard her shout, at first sounding like it was coming from the distance, gradually growing louder as continued to call out. “Lyrian! Can you hear me?”

I hear you! I tried to think back towards her, feeling the darkness around me suddenly begin to shift, gaining a slight hue of color. My efforts must have also done something for her to see because she immediately replied to me, speaking out for a second time.

“Look, he’s moving!” she said in an excited tone. “He’s finally waking up! Lyrian, keep doing whatever it is you’re doing! It’s working!”

It’s working? What’s working? I queried, feeling a little confused by what she’d said, but still trying to focus on her presence the same way I had before. The effort had the darkness around me continue to gain color until it abruptly vanished, and I found myself sitting upright in my bed with Freya’s face in the center of my vision.

“Lyrian?” she asked as I stared her, it taking a second for my eyes to fully focus on her. “Are you back? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I-I think so,” I replied as I shifted, suddenly feeling how fast my heart was beating in my chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. One minute I was waiting for the crystal to activate…then the next—”

Having leaned back while I’d been talking, my thoughts derailed the instant that I clued in that Freya was wearing her armor as she sat on the bed in front of me. But then no sooner did I notice that detail, did I also catch a flash of motion, revealing that Shelia was also here, the woman passing by the sole window that the room had to offer.

The sole window which was currently letting in a bright beam of sunlight into the room.

“Wait…what time is it?” I asked as I stared at the sunbeam, a sense of dread coming over me as I heard a loud horn blare from outside, its note lasting for several seconds before ending.

“It’s a little after ten in the morning, Lyr,” Freya replied in a gentle voice, her head turning to glance out the window as she spoke. “Whatever it is that happened with the crystal happened to you all night.”

“But I’m afraid that’s also not the only thing either,” she added before I could say anything in response. “Because Garr was right yesterday, there is a storm coming. And so are the orcs.”

Chapter 66

“I couldn’t wake you no matter what I tried, so I had to call Shelia,” I heard Freya explain as I dressed as fast as I could while simultaneously stumbling through the empty common area that connected with our private bedroom, slowly making my way towards the door that led outside.

“And I’m afraid I couldn’t do anything for you either,” the other woman said as she easily kept pace with me as I continued to pull my armor free from my inventory and dress. “You were lying what appeared dead asleep when I arrived and then just sat up yourself a few moments ago, your eyes blazing with emerald light. It was shortly afterward, with Freya calling for you, that you awoke.”

“That I did hear,” I replied, pulling a strap on my chest piece tight as I spoke. “But by that point, I think whatever the crystal had to show me was over. It showed me three different dreams…or memories, I think. But they each felt short. Barely more than a few minutes long each.”

“I…see,” Shelia said, sounding somewhat unsure of what to make of my words, but not pressing me on them either. “If that was the case, then, are you feeling well from your experience? Any exhaustion or fatigue?”

“I think so,” I replied, pausing briefly from my hasty attempts to dress myself to consider how I physically felt. “I don’t feel any different than usual, and I’m not particularly tired. Whatever happened with the memories overnight at least let my body rest.”

“Small victories in that case,” Freya commented with a sigh of relief from somewhere behind me, her voice shifting to address the other woman. “Do you think he’ll be okay to fight today?”

“Hm, as if my words would stop him if I didn’t think he wasn’t?” I heard Shelia answer with a polite snort. “But no. Since he is standing and moving—with speed, I might add—I can’t see any reason to be concerned. Beyond the strangeness of whatever magic the artifact used to afflict him overnight, he seems to be fine.”

“And he is also standing right here and listening to you both,” I said in a dry tone as I finished pulling my left glove on, the last and final piece to complete my armor set, and pushed open the door leading to outside. “Okay, I’m ready to—”

An explosion of magic in the air above me cut me off, its volume loud enough to cause me to flinch as I glanced upwards and spotted the remains of a fireball disintegrating high above us, the air around it shimmering brightly.

“Looks like things are finally getting started,” I stated, finding my voice again as I exited our longhouse just in time to see the first fireball be joined by several other smaller ones, each of them impacting on the invisible shroud that was the Disruption Aura surrounding the town and fading away.

“It sure looks like it,” Freya agreed as a series of smaller rapid-fire cracks from the expended magic above us reached our ears, the distant bombardment from above continuing as the orcs began to test our defenses. “You’re completely sure that you’re feeling okay, Lyr?”

“I am,” I affirmed, half turning back to look at the two women as they followed me out of the building. “And even if I weren’t, I’d figure out a way to deal with it. There’s no way I’m going to sit on my hands while we’re all fighting for our lives here. None of us would.”

“That’s true enough,” Freya replied with a sigh before going on to nod at me. “Okay, then. Let’s get a move on towards the others, and I’ll catch you up along on the way.”

“Works for me,” I said, going to shift my attention towards Shelia then back to Freya. “And thank you both for your help. I’m sorry to have worried you both with whatever this crystal did to me.”

“It’s nothing,” the priestess replied with a shake of her head. “I am here to help, after all—both now and during the battle. Just come and find me should you need my services.”

“Hopefully, we won’t need to, but I’ll keep it in mind regardless,” I said, both Freya and I parting ways from the cleric who turned to head back towards the town hall, which had been fortified as both a final holdout and a place to treat our wounded.

“Okay,” Freya said as soon as we were alone. “So I know I promised to update you, but I’m going to need you to fill me in first. What exactly happened in these…memories that kept you out all night?”

“A lot,” I answered with a shake of my head as went onto give the woman a quick outline of my experiences while we walked through the town at a brisk pace, moving towards where I sensed Amaranth already waiting. “…and that’s where I finally heard your voice calling me. I wasn’t sure if the visions were done, but I’m glad you were able to pull me out of them. I’d had more than enough by then.”

“It sure sounds like it,” Freya replied in a compassionate tone. “Dying even once sucks, let alone having to do it three times back to back.”

“You’re not wrong there,” I said, full well recalling how painful each of the deaths I’d experienced had been, or at least in the case of the Nafarrian king’s memory, the moments leading up to his. “But in any case, I’m still struggling to wrap my head around everything I saw. It seems that everything we think we might have known about the Nafarr was way off, especially when it came to these rebels that were helping the Irovians. And I’m not entirely sure what either that woman or the king meant when they referred to the ‘bonds’ that their ancestors placed on them. It almost sounded like they didn’t have free will. Either not all the time or not in the traditional sense that we understand it, at least.”

“Well, to be fair, Lyr, we didn’t really know all that much in the first place,” Freya pointed out. “And from the little I’ve heard Stanton and Donovan talk about, pretty much nothing of the Nafarrian culture survived to be recorded after they fell. Until now, our best knowledge source was the slave-king that we fought in the tower.”

“Which, from what Garr tells me, might have really been some sort of ancestral spirit or something,” I replied with a sigh as I thought back to that particular confrontation. “I think my head is starting to hurt trying to unravel all of this.”

“Then maybe you’ll need to put it aside for the time being, because in a couple minutes we’re going to have a few more immediate concerns,” the woman said, her face suddenly brightening as she gave me an inquisitive look. “Wait, hang on a second. Were the memories the only thing the crystal gave you? Or did you get something else in your notifications too? A quest or something else to add context?”

“Uh, I woke up so fast and panicked the second I saw that it was morning, I didn’t even think to look. One sec,” I replied, finally taking the time to notice that there was indeed an unread alert floating on the edge of my vision, my brain having refused to notice it until now. Mentally opening it, I watched it expand into a small window filled with text and immediately began to read.

You have successfully absorbed the skill crystal: [Legacy of the Nafarr]!

You have learned the long lost Nafarr language!

You can now understand, speak, and write Nafarrian!

You have gained a new trait!

Lost Lore: Nafarr

Description: Gained from the memories you’ve absorbed, your mind is now rife with countless fragments of fallen Nafarrian culture, occasionally granting you a unique insight and knowledge of the long-since-fallen civilization in the form of whispering words or, rarely, complete visions.

Effect: When presented with mystery, query, or an artifact that is Nafarrian in nature, there is a chance that your subconscious mind will be able to provide either contextual knowledge to guide you or on occasion, even show you a memory directly relevant to it.

You have learned the Advanced Tradeskill: Artificing! This tradeskill allows you to harness the power of magic and shape it to your needs through the creation of powerful devices, magical metals, and arcane foci.

You have learned new Artificing recipes!

You have gained a new ability!

Shroud of the Magelord

Type: Stance, Magical

Skill Requirement: Alteration and Abjuration – Level 25

Description: Gained from the memories that you’ve absorbed, you have learned how to shape and strengthen your natural magical aura as the ancient Nafarr once did, creating a subtle shroud around you that blunts both weapons and magic.

Effect: While this stance is active, you gain a +10% damage reduction against physical attacks and +10% spell resistance against all magical effects. You must have mana in order to maintain this stance.

You have learned a new spell!

Unseal

Type: Spell, Nafarrian

Duration: Instant

Casting Time: 1 minute

Arcane Tree: Abjuration

Spell Mastery: Abjuration – Level 30

Mana Cost: 4000

Description: You channel an enormous amount of mana into a complex arcane key, unlocking the Nafarrian seal before you.

Effect: Target seal is dispelled.

Special: Due to the complexity of this spell, it cannot be shared with other adventurers through normal means.

“Whoa, there’s a lot I missed,” I said to Freya, slowing my pace as I read through the floating box’s contents, my eyes widening as I did so. “A lot, a lot.”

“Any of it immediately useful?” the woman queried, sounding a little impatient at my slowdown. “Because my earlier words still stand. We’re really short on time to join up with the others, especially if the orcs are already throwing magic at us from above.”

“Just one new ability in the short term,” I said a little distractedly as I’d immediately turned to page through my newly earned artificing tradeskill recipe list, finding it absolutely full of various things that I could potentially make. From an ætherial transducer to an elemental battle wand to something else called a “grade 5 basic intellect”, the recipe list stretched almost endlessly with Freya’s timely throat-clearing pulling me out from investigating the whole thing all at once. Apologizing for the delay, I quickly gave her an overview of everything that I’d seen. “And then last but not least, there’s this…unseal spell that it gave me, which, given how much mana it needs, is impossible for me to even cast. Not that I’d even know what to cast it on in the first place. We’ve never even seen a seal.”

“Not yet, you mean,” the woman replied in a thoughtful tone before going on to shrug. “But so much for my earlier thought. It looks like we only have more questions to ask.”

“That’s been the story of my night,” I stated as we began to move at a faster pace once again, the sounds of fighting starting to reach our ears as we got closer to the palisade. Enough so that I activated my new ability, Shroud of the Magelord, feeling the ancient Nafarrian magic billow out around me in a protective cocoon. Feeling it stabilize around me, I then cast Protective Shielding, which was one of the new spells that I’d learned from Janus and the other spellswords. “I’m wondering if I visit other Nafarrian ruins that these new memories will trigger on something else and give me more context of what happened to them. Then maybe if enough of them do, I’ll be able to piece things together like a puzzle, bit by bit.”

“It sounds like a particularly frustrating puzzle to me,” Freya commented as the wall finally came into view.

“You’re not wrong there, but hopefully, it’ll be one worth figuring out, if only to make sure we aren’t blind anymore,” I replied while glancing up at the palisade and the adventurers on it, all of them in the process of repelling a collection of attacking shadows and spirits either on the wall or the field beyond it. “Anyway, sorry, that took a lot longer than I thought. What’s going on here that I need to know about? Beyond the obvious, that is.”

“That the orcs have been slowly mobilizing over the course of the last two hours or so and are expected to make their assault before the storm arrives,” Freya said as she led me towards a set of stairs that had been built alongside the wall for easy access. “Which according to Garr is supposed to fully arrive from the northwest anywhere in the next two to three hours, though we might start getting wet and windy before that. Apparently, now that it’s closer, Garr can better sense it and where it’s coming from. He is pretty certain that it belongs to a hurricane that’s coming our way off the ocean.”

“A hurricane?” I repeated, feeling my eyes widen at the news. “They can make it this far inland? I thought all the mountains along the coast would stop it.”

“Garr said something similar once he realized where it was coming from,” the woman replied. “But apparently, this storm is strong and large enough that a few mountains aren’t going to stop it before it manages to thoroughly drench us.”

“Lucky us,” I mumbled as we both charged up the stairs, my eyes looking towards the aforementioned stormfront to the northwest and landing on the dark, voluminous clouds that loomed in the distance.

“Past all of that, we’re more or less committed across the board now,” Freya continued as we climbed, the sounds of combat growing louder with each step we took. “Which includes our other plan as well. With us not knowing how long you were going to be out of commission, Drace and I decided to give it the go-ahead as soon as we saw the orcs getting ready to attack. We figured that between any other surprises the orcs might have in store for us and the coming storm we had a short window to work with.”

“Which is the same thing I would have suggested too,” I replied, quickly doing a bit of mental math in my head on how the timing of everything would work out. “So then we pretty much need to survive until the storm arrives, if not a bit longer.”

“Roughly,” Freya agreed, lunging out with her spear as she vaulted up the last few steps, its tip slicing through an unwary shadow that hadn’t seen her coming. “But that’s assuming if things go according to plan, which given our luck in the past…”

“Might be a long shot,” I finished, drawing Savagery as I reached the top of the wall behind her and scanned our surroundings, finding that the adventurers nearby were already in the process of placing a new ward to replace the one that had failed. Not that I really expected it to do much given the sea of shadows that were currently rushing towards Aldford from outside the wall, the distant orcs summoning rank after rank before throwing them at us. “But then again, that plan is already a longshot in itself.”

“You’re not kidding there,” Freya said with a snort as she motioned for me to follow her as we rushed along the ramparts, which were just wide enough for us to run shoulder to shoulder beside one another. “Anyway, though, past all of that, everything else is more or less the same as last night and going according to plan. The only major tweak is the deployment layout on the wall, in case you’re not recognizing the faces we’re passing.”

“It’s too soon on the faces, but the guild crest does help things along in the meantime,” I replied, absentmindedly nodding in greeting towards a pair of adventurers that belonged to the Legion guild who had glanced in our direction as we jogged past them. “What’s changed there?”

“Just some shifting around based on who I’ve noticed works best with whom after yesterday,” Freya answered as we ran headlong into a group of attacking shadows that had managed to scale the walls ahead of us. “We’re now in the center of the eastern wall with Legion and Lionheart on either side of us since they’re comparatively so much bigger member wise. We also have their overflow going to support the northern and southern gates, respectively.”

“So if anything goes wrong with either of them, they’ll be in a good position to shift and help out there or pull a reserve back onto the wall if needed,” I said, getting the general idea of the woman’s plans as I swept Savagery through a pair of shadows that had landed too close to me, the attack causing them both to writhe, then twist towards me. “Same with us helping them out.”

“You got it,” she replied while thrusting her spear towards the two creatures that I’d attacked, its tip piercing through one before darting to deliver a slice against the other. “Beyond that, we have Cassius and his guild on duty to defend the northern gate, and then Riggs and his group of adventurers to defend the southern one. After seeing him fight the last few days, and how well a good chunk of the other newcomers listen to him, I figured he was the best person for the job. We should maybe think about snatching him and a good core the other newcomers up after all this. Because if we don’t, one of the other guilds sure will.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” I agreed as I slashed out one last time towards the shadows and landed two quick cuts on each, the blows proving to be too much for them to take and causing their bodies to lose shape and disintegrate. “With all the new arrivals here now, we’re fairly outnumbered guild member wise.”

“More like horribly outnumbered,” Freya corrected as we resumed our trek along the wall, the other Legion adventurers having the attack well in hand. “But yeah, I think we could definitely use some new blood at this point.”

“Then we’ll make it happen,” I replied as I shifted to look farther down the ramparts, finally spotting a few familiar shapes and faces ahead, the least of which was Amaranth, the cat having gone his own way after I’d turned in the previous night. “Ah, I think I see the others ahead.”

“Same,” Freya said, her head turning to look out towards the orcs as something caught her eye. “And just in time too. Looks like the orcs are getting tired of sending in their minions to get killed in dribs and drabs.”

“Shit, I see it,” I replied as I glanced out over the wall and saw a massive cluster of Zhul’s shadows of corruption just standing and waiting as the heralds continued to summon more and more of them. “Just how many of those things can they make before they can’t anymore?”

“No idea, but I think we’re about to find out,” Freya stated with a shake of her head, glancing over towards me as she spoke. “Come on, let’s get ourselves buffed and ready while we still have time. The real fighting is about to start.”

Chapter 67

“They’re getting ready to send the constructs in!” I heard Constantine’s voice call out from farther down the rampart beside me at the same moment as I sliced through the arm of the corrupted wolverine I was fighting. “I can see them massing—ah, shit, check that! They’re all rushing forward now! They’ll be here in a few minutes! That includes the big one, too!”

“Then we better clear these things out before they get here!” I shouted back as I dodged under an ethereal claw and delivered a pair of cuts to the towering creature’s midsection, causing a spray of dark energy to burst free from the wounds. Dancing backward from the attack and out of the spirit’s range, I had a brief opportunity to glance along our line, finding everyone struggling to keep the tide of attackers at bay. “Hal! I think we’re going to need you guys to sweep the ramparts again! We need to ease the pressure before they get here!”

“Damn, Lyr, we’re still recovering from the last sweep!” the mage’s voice called back from behind me. “If we do it again, we’ll be completely burnt out when they get here!”

“Then drop another set of totems and a searing ward too!” I countered while side-stepping another swipe from my opponent and immediately riposting with a combined slash of Savagery and a point-blank Flameburst, the two attacks finally enough to cause it to lose shape and dissolve. “We need to buy ourselves some space before those things get here!”

Trusting that Halcyon and the other spellcasters would follow my orders, I allowed myself one quick look at the oncoming attackers before throwing myself back into the fighting. Costing me only a pair of seconds, the glance allowed me to spot the same onrushing wall that Constantine had as the orcs sent their abominations sprinting across the battlefield towards us, which, of course, included the massive siegebreaker. But as I shifted my focus past the advancing screen of constructs, I saw that several tribes of orcs were moving to follow behind them as they had during the battle at Valor’s Point.

They’re using them as trailblazers again, I noted, instantly recognizing what the orcs were trying to do as I saw that the constructs had been arrayed into widespread ranks that were anywhere between three to five rows deep depending on the section in question. With their ability to absorb an incredible amount of punishment, while also being somewhat disposable, they were likely hoping that the creatures triggered any traps that we might have left in wait.

Which, of course, they will. Just not all of them, I added as I pulled my attention away from the oncoming constructs and towards Amaranth a few feet away from me, who was busily fighting a pair of shadows that had just climbed over the wall.

Rushing to my familiar’s aid, I slashed Savagery through the closest of the two attackers, causing it to recoil in pain and twist towards me, which in turn, allowed the cat to swipe out with his claws at its partner. Landing high on the shadow’s body, the blow caused the creature to practically explode from the impact as if Amaranth had struck a particularly dense cloud, leaving only a streak of darkness in the air. During that time, I was far from idle myself, relentlessly attacking my shadow with all the strength and speed that I could bring to bear, slicing through the outmatched creature faster than it could react and sending it back to wherever Zhul’s followers had conjured it from.

Of course, though, that victory for Amaranth and me proved to be short-lived as it had been since I’d arrived on the wall little more than a half-hour earlier, the two shadows we’d dispatched being replaced by six more that were climbing over the wall’s edge.

<Ugh, more of these creatures?> Amaranth growled to me in an exasperated tone as we promptly charged into them before they could all finish climbing, greeting them with a simultaneous cast of Flameburst each. <These meatless beings are worthless to hunt and prove little challenge beyond their sickening touch. I am beginning to feel like a kitten toying with his meal before devouring it. Except that I can’t even devour my meal.>

<I feel you there,> I replied to the cat as we fought the half-dozen shadows, which, despite their numbers, proved to be little challenge to us thanks to both our gear and relatively higher level. <But once the orcs and constructs get here, you’ll be wishing that you only had these creatures to worry about.>

<Perhaps, or perhaps not,> Amaranth replied, sounding somewhat intrigued by the prospect of something different to fight. But if the cat had any other words to that effect, he was cut short by Halcyon’s booming voice ringing out behind us before he could speak them.

“Sweep incoming!” he shouted, his words accompanied by a crackle of building magic all around us. “Take cover!”

Reacting quickly to the mage’s words, Amaranth and I didn’t waste a second in moving, the two of us stepping back from the creatures we’d been fighting until we were nearly at the rampart’s edge. Diving close to my familiar, I did my best to shield him with my body, both of us steeling ourselves for what would come next.

“Here it comes!” Halcyon exclaimed a second before my world was filled with a blaze of both fire and lightning, the magic lancing along the length of the ramparts on either side of us for several dozen feet.

The blast cleared out every single spirit or shadow that had been standing on the wall, wiping them out as if they’d never been there, and giving us the space that we needed to breathe. Once done, the mages then stepped forward to the edge of the wall and continued their efforts down below where even more of the ethereal creatures waited, sending a torrent of destruction down into their massed ranks. Such a tactic, however, didn’t come without its price. First, in the complete exhaustion of our spellcasters once the sweep was completed, but also second, in the health of the defenders that were forced to endure the edges of the magic that cleared the wall.

Halcyon’s [Pyroclasm] hits you for 110 points of fire damage!

Caius’s [Demon Fire] hits you for 106 points of fire damage!

Donovan’s [Lightning Bolt] hits you for 103 points of lightning damage!

“Rah! I hate that part the most,” I growled to Amaranth as I felt the point-blank magic sear my skin and body, my newly learned shroud blunting its effects somewhat. “Friendly fire never feels friendly.”

<It certainly does not,> the cat agreed with a mental hiss as the smell of burning fur reached my nose. <Yet if it frees me from needing to hunt more of these meatless beings then I would willingly bear it.>

“I suppose that’s fair,” I replied to the cat as the elemental storm continued to roll forward, its searing effects on us being replaced by twin cooling sensations flowing through my body. Recognizing them immediately for what they were, I glanced over towards my combat log, seeing a pair of new entries appear, along with the staple one from the tree I’d grown used to seeing over the last few weeks.

[Lesser Healing Totem] heals you for 200 hit points!

[Lesser Mana Totem] replenishes you for 150 mana points!

[Aldford’s Aura of Magic] replenishes you for 50 mana points!

Good, the totems are down. That should keep us standing for a while, I thought as I stood from my crouched position with Amaranth, using the lull in fighting to step forward to the wall’s edge and inspect both the casters’ efforts, as well as the oncoming wave of constructs and orcs. Focusing on the magical onslaught first, I saw that it had succeeded perfectly in clearing the bulk of the spirits and shadows that had been either on the wall or on the immediate field beyond it. What few remained were in the process of being easily finished off by the majority of our ranks, those who were not fighting enjoying the few seconds they had to catch their breaths.

Satisfied with what I was seeing there, I turned my attention towards the onrushing constructs and orcs just in time to see their ranks begin to separate into three distinct groups, each of them heading in their own direction. Two of the groups, the ones that belonged to either flank of their advance, split on an angle that I saw would lead to the two eastern facing gates that Aldford had, one on the northern end of the city, and the other on the south. Natural weak points to any fortification, we’d known that both of the locations would likely end up as prime targets for the orcs’ assault and had done our best to prepare for their inevitable attack. The gates had been barred and reinforced, the bridge that spanned the river had been removed, and the trench ringing the town had been expanded until no easy path remained. If the orcs wanted to find a way through either of the two entrances, then they would have to pay for it with rivers of blood and sweat.

That was, of course, if the third group didn’t end up taking the town in their own right.

Easily larger than the other two groups put together, the oncoming wave of constructs consisted entirely of dervishes, their light stature and smaller forms allowing them to sprint across the battlefield at near blinding speed, enough so that our ballistae had a hard time hitting them. Dogging their steps behind them was also the massive shape that was the siegebreaker, which was then, followed by several orc tribes that had split away from the main horde. It didn’t take a genius tactician to divine what the orcs’—or, more specifically, Zhul’s—strategy was with this particular force, the enemy leader clearly signaling his intent to have the massive creature simply bulldoze its way through the palisade and into the town.

Hence its namesake: siegebreaker, I thought as I stared at the distant monstrosity while clenching my teeth, hoping once again that all our plans and preparations to deal with the thing would be enough. Because if they weren’t, we had little illusion of how the battle would end up going if we simply allowed the creature to run lose through Aldford’s heart. At this point, though, there’s nothing left for us to do but fight onwards and see what fate has in store for us.

Ending abruptly, the lull in the battle that I’d been able to enjoy and catch my breath during was interrupted by the sudden arrival of three more shadows of corruption along with a rather large looking anaconda spirit climbing over the wall ahead. Leaping forward with Amaranth by my side, we promptly fell back into the battle, the next couple minutes flying by in what felt like the blink of an eye. It was only when I heard several loud cracks of firing siege weapons along with Drace’s voice that I was drawn back into the moment.

“Caltrop bombs out!” he shouted in a loud voice that carried over the battlefield despite the renewed fighting. “Gunners focus on the dervishes until the siegebreaker comes into range! Once it does, I want you all to focus on nothing else! We need to take that thing down before it can do too much damage!”

Glancing upwards as I clued into what stage of the battle we’d entered, I managed to catch sight of several dozen metal balls sailing through the air and towards the oncoming constructs. Practically identical to the ones that we’d used during the battle of Valor’s Point, the balls would spray the ground and anything around them with razor-sharp pieces of metal after landing, forcing anyone running over them to slow, lest they wound their feet. The only difference this time, however, with the bombs, was that we had opted to use æthertouched iron caltrops for their payload after seeing just how much even the barest touch of the metal afflicted the constructs.

Forced to abandon following their trajectory as I turned my attention back towards the fighting, I lost the next few seconds in the flurry of melee combat, both Amaranth and I cutting through another complement of shadows that had survived the mages’ sweep. But once the last of them fell, I had a chance to see the havoc that our attack had wreaked on the charging dervishes, their agonized screams reaching our ears from even this distance. Flailing and staggering, our attack had cost them a good portion of the momentum from their charge, nearly half of them writhing and screaming in pain as they tried to use their ill-designed blade arms to sweep away the shards of iron that had pierced their bodies. This made them perfect targets for the barrage that followed afterward, the thunderous snap of over two dozen ballistae, and the even more massive crack that belonged to the Beast, sending out volleys of deadly bolts towards them. Feeling the ramparts shake beneath my feet as they all fired, I was able to follow the wall of bolts as they crossed the battlefield in the blink of an eye before falling upon the line of dervishes—and lancing through them with fury.

Having been distracted by the spraying caltrops, the dervishes had given up their best defense against being attacked, having slowed just enough for our ballistae gunners to gain a bead on them before firing. The result had the leading edge of their charge melt away as the volley of bolts scythed through them, wounding, if not killing, several outright.

“That was a great start, gunners!” Drace’s voice boomed out once again. “Now let’s do it again! Casters, get ready, or drink a potion if you’re not! You’re up next!”

“Up next?” I heard Halcyon grumble from my right, the man having at some point slid in beside me during the chaos. “We haven’t been down since this battle started! Ugh, I knew I should have rolled a melee class.”

“I think it’s far too late for that, Hal!” I called back to the mage as another round of the straggling spirits and shadows that the mages’ sweep had missed climbed over the edge of the wall ahead of us once again, prompting all three of us to dive back into the fray. “Besides, you don’t like being up close and personal with things!”

“That I sure don’t!” he replied as he conjured a spray of lightning in front of him, the white-hot bolts of electricity lancing through a pair of identical-looking spirit spiders and wiping them away in a burst of magic. “Damn, I’m running low on mana again! How much longer until those things get there? Do you think you can manage without me a stretch?”

“About a minute, give or take!” I shouted back to the mage as I glanced past the three shadows that I was fighting and towards the charging dervishes, seeing that they were about to hit our first line of traps and trenches. “So if you need a break, take it now! Things are going to get a hell of a lot more hectic once they get here!”

“I don’t doubt it!” Halcyon said with audible relief evident in his tone as he stepped backward out of our line, both Amaranth and I adjusting our position to account for his departure. “And thanks, Lyr!”

With only enough time to grunt in response to the mage’s words before I found myself under attack once again, my world fell into the frenzy that was combat, all thought fading from me. In its place was a flurry of seemingly disconnected moments where I either dodged, attacked, or rushed towards an attacking invader. So much did everything begin to blur together that I didn’t even consciously realize that dervishes had arrived until I was pulling Savagery free from one’s midsection, ducking under its feeble attempt to slash me. Drawing the blade free with a wet sucking sound as I evaded its attack, I didn’t waste the time to finish off the now mortally wounded creature. Instead, I lunged forward even closer toward it and drove my shoulder into its lower body, using my positioning and strength to send it toppling backward and over the edge of the palisade. It was perhaps a cruel thing to do to the hapless victim that was trapped inside the abomination, but the cold calculus of war left me no other option.

Not if I wanted to have a chance against the five other dervishes climbing the wall on either side of Amaranth and me.

Watching for a second as the dervish flailed before falling out of sight, I was forced to whirl and shift my attention towards my new attackers, the world around me slowing as I activated Alacrity. Dodging and parrying in the seconds that followed, I felt like I’d been thrown into a blender, barely even being able to move an inch without being threatened by a razor-sharp blade arm. Fortunately, though, I didn’t need to fight for long before the tides changed, my desperate defense buying enough time for Freya to come and rescue the three of us, the woman having seen our struggle from farther down the line. In barely a handful of seconds after her arrival, one of the dervishes was falling to the ground, the skull housing the spirit that animated the mud-covered horror having been shattered, leaving the magic to unravel itself. Another soon followed, its chest singed and rent open by a blast of powerful magic. That left only three for the four of us to deal with on much more favorable terms for the next few seconds. During that time, we managed to take down one more of the constructs before our skirmish effectively reset itself with the arrival of another three dervishes climbing over the wall’s edge to join us.

“These things are endless!” I shouted as the four of us downed another of the original set of abominations only to see that several more were in the process of climbing the walls on either side of us, their ranks joined by a scattered crop of both corrupted spirits and shadows. “Are we even stopping any of them out there before they can get to us?”

“We haven’t been overrun yet, so we must be!” Freya replied in a somewhat breathless voice, the woman pirouetting to the side to avoid a pair of stabs from her opponent, using that opportunity to glance out and over the wall. “Damn! It looks like they’re focusing their efforts on wall sections, rather than hitting us all at once! I think they might have managed to get a foothold farther down the line, too!”

“Great! Just what we need! How bad is it?” I asked as I used another of the spells that I’d learned from Janus and sent a blast of ice-cold air towards the dervish I was fighting, causing the mud on its body to freeze and crack.

“Bad enough that I think I might need to grab a bunch of people and go—” Freya started to shout back to me as she thrust her spear into the chest of the dervish she’d been fighting. But before she could finish speaking, she was interrupted by a large plume of fiery magic exploding at the lip of the ramparts in front of us, sending a wave of red-hot fire washing over all of us, the dervishes included.

“Ah! Where the hell did that come from?” I shouted, trying to stay ahead of my opponent as we both staggered backward from the shockwave that the magic had brought along with it, the flames thankfully somewhat blunted by both my shroud and my protective shielding.

“I don’t—” Halcyon half-replied from somewhere on my right before suddenly spitting out a curse at the top of his lungs. “Shit! It’s coming from the siegebreaker! They have mages and others on its—ah! Get down!”

Moving the instant I was able to register the man’s words, I threw myself sideways and into the only open space that I had available to me, partially landing on Amaranth as I did so. Wincing from the awkward landing, the dodge came just in time to avoid being speared by an arc of dark lightning, the black and purple magic lancing all along the rampart’s edge, striking both adventurer and construct alike. But where I saw the players scream and writhe from the spell, the constructs, shadows, spirits on the wall had the opposite reaction, gaining both strength and speed from its touch.

“Damn it! They’re throwing corrupted magic at us!” I exclaimed, recognizing the magic’s effects as I moved to scramble back up to my feet, raising Savagery up above me to block a pair of slashes from the dervish I’d been fighting. “We need to stop them before they do that again!”

“It might already be too late for that, Lyr!” I heard Freya shout back as I finished rising to my feet, using a well-timed Flameburst to blind the dervish attacking me. “I can see them flooding onto the wall farther down. I think that last blast took out almost everyone there! If we don’t push them off quickly, we might lose the ramparts entirely!”

“Then take as many people as you need and make sure we don’t!” I called back, parrying another slash from the dervish and temporarily pinning the blade arm in place, which allowed Amaranth to pounce in close and deliver a mighty paw swipe its leg. Deforming from the impact, the blow caused the limb to give out and sent the creature crashing to the ground where the cat then promptly bit down onto its skull and crushed it with a single bite. “The three of us will hold things together here as best we can!”

“I can do that!” Freya replied as she twirled her spear to catch an attack from a construct on its haft before retaliating with a series of three strikes almost faster than my eye could follow, the final strike sending it over the rampart’s edge. “But what are we going to do about the casters?”

“Hit them back as hard as they hit us!” I answered as the woman ducked out of line beside me, and I shifted to take her place, finding myself up against a pair of spirits, the constructs having mercifully been thinned out for the time being. “If they want to throw magic at us, then we’re going to throw some back at them! Hal and I just need a bit of time to make that happen!”

“Then I’ll try and buy you as much of it as I can!” she promised before moving to run off at a sprint, her voice calling out for both Constantine and Drace.

“Damn, Lyr, are you sure you didn’t just oversell it a little bit?” Halcyon replied as the woman left earshot range. “Because, have you seen the thing since the orcs started casting?”

“Of course I have,” I said to the mage as I exchanged another series of blows with the two spirits that I was fighting, managing to slash both of them at once with a wide cleave before bathing them with a blast of fire that had them lose their shape and unravel. Exhaling in relief to see them fade away, I took the opportunity to look out over the wall, searching for the siegebreaker.

To my dismay, it only took me a second to find the creature, the massive monstrosity having managed to close towards the town even faster than I’d expected over the course of the battle. Based on my quick glance, I guessed that the war beast was barely more than couple hundred feet away from us, with each stride it took rapidly causing that gap to shrink. But as my eyes shifted upwards to the orcs that were perched on the creature’s back, I suddenly got a better idea of what Halcyon had meant by words earlier.

Broken up into two distinct groups on the siegebreaker’s rather long spine, one on its head and the other further back towards its rear, I saw that they’d been divided based on role. Those standing towards the front of the creature were responsible for throwing the spells that had struck us earlier, the majority of it appearing to be the mundane regular kind that we were all used to, with the rare burst of dark corrupted magic overshadowing it. Conversely, those on the rear of the beast were all gathered around a dark and ominous sphere of some kind, channeling its energies into a hazy aura that surrounded the siegebreaker—an aura that I saw was capable of turning ballistae bolts ever so slightly so that they missed hitting the creature, or blunting the spells that were sent towards it, preventing them from even touching the orcs standing upon it.

“Oh,” I finally managed to grunt as I stared at the monster, feeling my earlier confidence start to wane. “I see.”

“You see,” Halcyon stated in a dry tone. “I hope you see a solution because that thing is shrugging off our spells and bolts like they’re nothing. Unless, of course, your plan was maybe using your magic to hop over there and politely asking for them all to leave?”

“You know what?” I replied back to the mage, a thought suddenly coming to mind. “That’s not a bad idea. I think I’ll do exactly that! Do you think if you and your casters get together you can crack that shield for me to land on it? Then I’ll try and keep them from raising it again.”

“What?” Halcyon demanded, his eyes moving from me and onto the siegebreaker ahead. “Shit, Lyr, I was just joking when I said that!”

“Well, too bad, then, because it’s still a good idea and keeps us from cooling our heels and waiting until they come at us!” I said as I scanned up and down the line close to us, my mind already trying to figure out how I would put my idea into motion. “The question still stands, though: can you burn through that shield of theirs?”

“Uh, well, probably!” the man replied, his voice hedging as he gazed out towards the oncoming monster. “But it’ll need to be closer so we can hit it reliably.”

“By the time we’re ready it will be,” I said as my eye landed on a figure that I knew would be able to help us. “Drace! Over here! We need you to fill our spot in line! We have an idea to hit the siegebreaker but need to move!”

“Hit it?” the warrior demanded as he began to rush towards us without a second’s hesitation. “With what? Harsh language and mean gestures? That thing is still too far away, and that damn shield is blocking everything we throw at it!”

“Which is why I want to take it down for good,” I replied as the half-giant seamlessly slid into our spot on the ramparts. “But I’m going to have to do that from the inside.”

“The inside?” Drace repeated, his head turning to look towards me. “You mean you’re going over there. Onto the thing’s back.”

“That’s the plan,” I said, giving the man a single nod before I resumed scanning the ramparts searching for people that I could tap to help me.

“Well, fuck me if that isn’t something,” Drace grunted back, shaking his head as he replied. “I don’t know what else to say other than good luck, Lyr. Hopefully, you can pull it off.”

“Me too,” I agreed, giving the man a brief farewell wave before Halcyon, Amaranth, and I darted off, the pair moving to follow me as we rushed along the ramparts.

As we did, I made sure to shout at any spellcasters that we passed for them to follow us, managing to conscript both Caius and Donovan along with several others in the process. Arriving at our destination at a run, we all piled onto the platform that we had emplaced the massive ballista that was the Beast on, surprising both the siege crew and the defenders surrounding it. Fortunately, that surprise only lasted for a few seconds until I managed to explain to the group what I was hoping to do.

“So do you think you can skim a bolt over its head and into that group if we can get that shield down?” I asked Ameron, who we’d chosen to serve as gunner for the massive siege weapon.

“Without a doubt,” the elf affirmed, his gaze turning away from mine to glance towards to Halcyon and the other spellcasters as they readied themselves, someone having dropped a mana totem to help them regenerate their energy. “I’ve already tried with two bolts the second they shot their first spell and had it skim off whatever’s protecting them. The best I’ve been able to do since is stick the thing in the legs, and that hasn’t done anything to slow it.”

“Well, hopefully, bringing the shield down will solve that problem,” I said as I turned to glance towards the siegebreaker and then again towards Halcyon. “How is going, Hal? Are you almost ready to go? That thing is starting to get close!”

“Pretty much, Lyr. We’re just waiting on your go-ahead,” the mage replied as he turned back towards me, a look of concern on his face. “But before we do, are you sure about this? You and Amaranth are going to be alone over there, and you’re likely going to face hard resistance. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Zhul is on that thing.”

“He probably is,” I said with a shake of my head, despite feeling a touch of reservation at the thought. “But I think we can hold out as long as we have to. I sent a couple runners to round up Janus and whoever else can make the jump that they can find and send them here, but there’s no telling how long it’ll take them to get there. We need to get those shields down so you guys can start roasting and shooting the damn thing. Worst case if things go sideways anyway is that I respawn and lose a few minutes getting back into the battle.”

“I can think of a lot more worse case scenarios than that, Lyr,” the mage stated with a shake of his head. “But you’re right. We need to do something, otherwise, that thing is going to be basically unscratched when it hits the wall. Are you ready?”

“As I’m ever going to be,” I answered, glancing down to Amaranth as I spoke. “What do you think, big guy?”

<I think that am I looking forward to testing my claws against more worthy opponents than the beings we’ve fought so far,> the cat replied eagerly, letting out a loud purr of anticipation.

“I’m going to take that as a yes from him,” Halcyon said, motioning for us to get in position. “Let’s get this going. Just wait until we’ve done our second round before going. The shield should be gone or weak enough for you to get through by then.”

“Sounds great to me,” I replied as Amaranth and I moved over to the laneway that had been cleared out for us, its straight roughly twenty-five-foot-long path leading to and ending at the wall’s edge. Taking up position at its rear, which was conveniently just a few feet behind Ameron who stood behind the Beast’s firing mechanism, we had a perfect view to watch the spellcasters work.

“All right, people!” Halcyon exclaimed as everyone finished lining up in a way to give them a clear line of sight to the siegebreaker. “You all either know what we’re doing here or are about to figure it out really fast because we are starting in five seconds! So pop your cooldowns and drink a potion now!”

<Get ready to follow right behind me, right after I start to move,> I warned Amaranth as we watched the casters begin to channel their spells, the sheer amount of magic that filled the air in the seconds afterward causing my hair to stand on end. <I should be able to breach the shield if it’s still intact when we get there. Hopefully, at least. From there, we’ll move to attack anyone standing, and then we’ll have to adapt from there.>

<And if you are not able to breach their magic?> Amaranth queried. <Then what shall we do?>

<Bounce off it and die spectacularly most likely,> I replied, really hoping that such a scenario wouldn’t be the case. <But let’s not borrow any trouble that we don’t need to.>

<That is perhaps wise,> the cat agreed, a brief hint of anxiety flowing through our link before it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, our attention being pulled towards Halcyon and the casters as they finally unleashed their magic.

Leaping out from each of their outstretched hands as they all finished their spells at the same time, the space between the palisade and the siegebreaker was abruptly filled with a chaotic maelstrom of elemental power. Crossing the distance the fastest, I was able to follow the magic in time to see several bolts of lightning impact the orcs’ shield first, causing it to immediately thicken and glow with energy. Next came fire, arriving to slam into the barrier just as the crackling electricity began to fade, its intense heat and potency boiling layer after layer of the protective magic away, causing the air itself to ripple. Then lastly, was the ice, the big and relatively slow-moving projectiles slamming into what remained of the now-wavering shield, going as far as to pierce through in sections and splash against the siegebreaker’s untouched side.

“That was a great opening start, everyone!” Halcyon shouted as the flare of magic came to an end. “Now let’s do it again with feeling before they can regroup and recharge that shield! We’re not going to stop until that thing is a smoking hole in the ground!”

“Which makes that our cue to get ready,” I said, pitching my voice just loud enough so that both Amaranth and Ameron could hear me, the elven gunner and his crew having been making continuous adjustments to the siege engine with every step the siegebreaker took.

“Right, that it is, sir,” the elf replied as he reached into a belt pocket to pull out a green-tinged battle potion, quickly thumbing it open and shooting it back in a smooth motion. “Æthertouched bolt locked and ready to go soon as the sparks finish their next cast. We’ll make you a good landing spot for your trip.”

“Perfect,” I said, my hand moving in a similar motion as the scout’s in also pulling free a pair of potions from my belt. But where his had been a pale green in color, the two that I’d selected were a dark rust instead, identifying them each as a Battle Potion of Strength. “We’ll see you all when we get back.”

“Right you will,” Ameron replied, offering me a final nod before I turned towards Amaranth.

“Okay,” I said as I bent down towards him, pausing just long enough to feed him the strength vial before standing back up. “Now this is the part where the fun really begins. Are you ready?”

<As one can ever be,> Amaranth replied, his body tensing as the battle potion took effect.

“Great,” I said as I too drank down my potion, feeling my muscles tighten and grow in response. “Because it’s too late to change our mind, they’re about to cast again.”

Shifting towards the casters as the magic began to build in the air once again, Amaranth and I made sure to follow suit with our own spells, casting Jump on ourselves in preparation for the next step in our plan. Then as they had just a few seconds earlier, the mages unleashed the torrent of magic that they’d be been conjuring and flung it at the siegebreaker once again turning the air into a blistering storm of energy. This time, however, I wasn’t able to watch the result of their efforts, instead drawing Savagery and activating Alacrity before moving to sprint towards the wall’s end as fast as my feet could take me. Taking what only felt like a pair of seconds to reach it, my foot touched down on the palisade’s edge at the same instant that I heard a peal of thunder echo out from the coming storm above.

Here goes nothing, I thought as I stared ahead towards the now not-so-distant siegebreaker, feeling my legs coil and tense beneath me.

And then with a mighty leap, the next thing I knew, I was airborne.

Chapter 68

Wind and rain greeted me as I sailed through the air towards the siegebreaker, feeling the first telltale drops of the oncoming storm as they splashed across my face. Fortunately, though, neither at the moment were strong enough to affect my trajectory as my momentum carried me towards my target, the creature having been temporarily blotted from sight by the magic that Halcyon and the others were throwing at it. But as I reached the apex of my leap, the elemental storm rapidly began to wane, finally giving me a clear view of the massive monstrosity and the two groups of orcs standing on top of it.

Just in time for me to see a speeding bolt of dark metal streak through my vision.

Slicing through the air almost faster than I could make out even with my Alacrity-enhanced senses, I saw the projectile shatter the orcs’ protective magic, causing a flare of power to erupt in the middle of the rearmost group and sending them all to the ground. Continuing onwards as it pierced through the shield, Ameron’s shot then arrived at its target, the bolt lancing through the group of spellcasters that had been standing on the siegebreaker’s head, instantly killing a pair of them and wounding a third before flying out of sight. Yet despite ravaging their ranks, that wasn’t all that the attack did, the siege engine’s special ability then afflicting the group and filling them each with terror. Scattering from their tightly knit group, the orcs instinctively scattered in every direction away from the bolt, one of them going as far as to even leap off the siegebreaker in a panic.

Well, this looks like a promising start, I thought as watched the scene unfold, feeling gravity begin to reassert its hold on me and pull my body back down towards the ground. Aided by both my magic and the strength potion I had drunk, I’d been able to clear well over a hundred feet in my leap from Aldford’s palisade towards the siegebreaker, crossing the majority of the distance with little effort. But that still left me just short of being able to reach and safely land on the creature.

Or at least it would have, had I not had other tricks to extend my leap.

Taking my eyes temporarily off my target, I eyed the air above me for a split second as I tried to gauge my timing, eventually fixating on a spot and triggering Blink Strike. With the world blurring as I shifted locations, I suddenly found myself both higher in the air and closer towards my goal, having gained the needed altitude and distance I’d needed to clear my leap. With that final adjustment done, there was nothing left for me to do but brace myself for the landing that I saw rapidly coming before me.

A landing that by virtue of their panicked flailing and running around, happened to be directly on top of two Heralds of Riius.

Passing through the dissipating haze of magic that was the remains of the orcs’ shield, I crashed into both the heralds simultaneously feet first, my weight and momentum serving to knock one of them straight off the siegebreaker while driving the other to the ground beneath me. Gasping from the brutal impact, I felt the air rush out of my lungs as I finally came to stop on top of the hapless orc that I’d crash-landed on, the sound of his bones cracking under me filling my ears. Wheezing as I shook off the collision, I didn’t hesitate to make the most of my landing, delivering a vicious openhanded chop to the herald’s throat and caving it in, courtesy of my battle potion enhanced strength. Choking and gurgling from the blow, the move bought me enough time to shift my weight off the orc before delivering a powerful shove with my foot to his side, sending him sliding off the siegebreaker to join his companion.

That’s five down and however many left to go, I thought while scrambling back up to my feet, retching slightly in the process as I sucked in a lungful of the tainted, rotting stench that emanated from the black-grey mud that was the siegebreaker. Pushing myself up, I found my balance on the lumbering creature’s back just in time to hear Amaranth land somewhere beside me, the cat letting out a loud roar to announce his arrival. Glancing in the direction of the noise, I saw that he’d chosen to arrive similarly as me, landing directly on top of the wounded orc spellcaster I’d seen struck by the bolt and promptly tearing him to shreds. And now that makes six.

Knowing that we only had seconds before our arrival was noticed, neither of us wasted the time to enjoy our kills, instead rushing towards the next pair of heralds closest to us who had also been affected by the Beast’s terrifying magic. But where the others had been compelled to flee by the death of their comrades, these appeared to have just been merely shaken by it, their mental defenses strong enough to partially resist the magical fear.

Not that it saved them in the end.

Still enhanced by Alacrity, we both managed to cross the distance separating us faster than either of them could even begin to react, their reactions dulled just enough for Amaranth and me to have every advantage that we needed to end the fight before it could even begin. Arriving simultaneously on top of our flat-footed opponents, we hit them without remorse or reservation, Perfect Strike allowing me to deliver a flawless cut to the orc’s throat before his eyes could even finish widening in surprise. Similar was Amaranth’s attack, the cat electing to strike with a punishing swipe of his paw that struck his target’s head with enough force that I heard its spine audibly shatter from the impact, sending it twisting at an unnatural angle.

It was then, at that point, just as Amaranth and I claimed both our seventh and eighth victims, that the other orcs on the still-moving siegebreaker finally discovered that they were under attack. Reacting with a loud shout of alarm, we had just enough time to realize that we’d been spotted before we abruptly found ourselves being seared by a blast of magical fire.

<Ah, shit! Looks like they know we’re here now!> I exclaimed to Amaranth as a wave of flames washed over us, bathing the both of us in ash and temporarily obscuring everything before we could glance in the direction of the second group. But despite being discovered, neither one of us wanted to lose the momentum our surprise attack had granted us, pushing through the thick cloud of cinders until we burst through the other side—and practically running headlong into no one other than Carver and his spirit companion, Valefor, the instant we stepped free.

“Lyrian! I was starting to wonder when you’d show yourself!” he exclaimed the second he saw me, his spear thrusting out in my direction by way of greeting. “But I have to say I wasn’t expecting you to come all the way out here! Did you decide you wanted to get a front-row seat of us taking your little town apart?”

“Why, it’s nice to see you too, Carver!” I called back to the man doing my best to bury my surprise at his sudden appearance, barely managing to check my run and bring Savagery downwards to block his attack. Connecting with the weapon’s haft solidly, my temporarily enhanced strength allowed me to easily deflect the spear out of the way before it could hit me. “But actually, I came by to ask if you got my message. Because that was some leak that you had there with the feed the other day. I mean, damn, stabbed right in the back like that without any warning. It really sucks when it happens to you, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I really appreciate your concern there, Lyrian,” Carver replied in a dismissive tone despite his eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected strength behind my parry, his stance shifting into a more defensive one as he continued to speak. “But I think you’ll be happy to hear that thanks to your help, I was actually able to plug that leak rather quickly. I always knew that you were a hard man—when you needed to be, at least—but I never thought you of all people would do poor Ignis so cold like that. But after I started looking, I found what I needed to know.”

“What can I say, Carver? You and yours just bring out the best in me,” I replied, seeing his defensive shift and taking that as a cue to press my attack, delivering a pair of brutal strikes to his shield and carving deep lines across its surface. As I did, I couldn’t help but ponder his words, wondering just what exactly he was talking about.

Does he actually think that Ignis and I were working behind his back? I asked myself, just barely having enough time to form the thought before my eye suddenly caught sight of a flash of violet magic from behind the man. Adjusting slightly as I took advantage of Carver’s defensive stance, I peered past the man in hopes of getting a better look at exactly what was going on, only to find myself cursing as I spotted the other group of orc casters. Shit! They’ve already recovered and are starting to recast the shield! How did they manage it so—

I never had a chance to finish my thought as it was abruptly interrupted by a bright bolt of electricity that lanced past me on my left, the white-hot magic scorching a deep line across the mud that was the siegebreaker’s flesh. Realizing instantly what the bolt meant and what was following behind it, I snapped my attention back towards Carver just long enough to plant a heavy kick directly in the center of his shield, sending him staggering backward away from me. My next move after that was to throw myself flat against the war beast’s back while shouting at Amaranth to do the same.

<Get down!> I exclaimed as a second bolt of lightning arced past me as I landed, the magic passing close enough that it drowned out the siegebreaker’s stench, replacing it with the smell of ozone. <They’re casting again!>

Just barely managing to get the words out before the world around me erupted into chaos, Amaranth and I were then treated to another round of Halcyon and the other spellcasters’ magical assault on the siegebreaker.

Except this time instead of watching their efforts from a distance, we were able to experience it firsthand.

Slamming into the war beast with a palpable force, we were thrown forward as the tidal wave of destructive magic arrived, sliding several feet across the siegebreaker’s spine as it staggered from the impact. But before either of us could slide too far, Amaranth was able to dig his claws into the mud beneath him and anchor himself, so that when he caught my arm in his jaws, I came to an abrupt stop, instead of continuing what I was certain would have been a fatal journey off the side of the siegebreaker and into the horde of orcs below.

<Whoa, good catch!> I exclaimed to Amaranth, my vantage point giving me a perfect view of both Carver and his spirit companion also sliding away from us, having been knocked onto his back from the magic’s impact. But as fate would have it, our luck wasn’t good enough or Carver’s bad enough to see him slide off the monster. Instead, the shaman managed to barely grab hold of one of the iron anchor points that the orcs had sunk into the siegebreaker’s body to hang its armor off.

Damn, that was so close! We could have been rid of him without needing to fight! I cursed as I saw the man save himself at the last second, quickly twisting my body so I could grab hold of Amaranth’s armor to anchor myself, the cat releasing me from his jaws the moment I was secure. Scrambling from there, I used him as leverage to help get my legs under me and into a crouched position as the magic continued to rage, blasts of lightning, fire, and ice spraying the air all around us, but leaving us relatively untouched. It seemed that Halcyon and the other casters had managed to keep their aim fixated mostly on the war beast itself, reducing the chance that they’d accidentally strike us if we kept low enough on the creature and didn’t move any more than we had to.

Not that their consideration is going to do much if the orcs manage to get that shield up again, I said to myself, recalling the last sight I’d seen before their attack arrived, immediately shifting my focus to glance towards the rear group of spellcasters. Spotting them easily, I saw that they stood not only completely unscathed by all the magic flying through the air but also with a brightly glowing violet orb between them, it having substantially grown in strength in the few seconds since I’d last seen it. Wondering if I’d be able to disrupt it from this far, I reached out with my hunger and sharply yanked on the magic empowering it, feeling a surge of energy shoot through me a second later. Unfortunately however, the effect wasn’t enough to destabilize the spell that the orcs were casting, the sphere wobbling under my ability’s effect before stabilizing itself. Feeling my heart fall as I stared at it, I returned to my earlier truncated thoughts, wondering just how they’d managed to begin casting another shield so quickly. But this time, however, instead of being interrupted by a hailstorm of magic mid-thought, I was able to see firsthand how the orcs had empowered their spell as a familiar figure stepped into view.

“Zhul,” I whispered, instantly recognizing the tall and powerfully built orc as he stepped around the glowing orb and into view, my earlier suspicions of him being on the siegebreaker proving to be true. Continuing to move as he came into sight, I noticed he was carrying a limp figure—a robed herald if I wasn’t mistaken—in one of his arms, along with what looked like a long-bladed dagger in the other.

Confused by what I saw, it was all I could do to keep staring at the warlord as another round of particularly intense magic arrived, its effects pinning Amaranth and me in place as it splashed dangerously close around us. That then gave us a perfect vantage point to see Zhul shift the herald that he’d been carrying until he held them at arm’s length by the collar directly in front of the spinning orb. As he did, I was able to see that he was muttering something that I couldn’t make out, his words ending with a sudden plunge of the dagger into the herald’s chest.

“What?!” I exclaimed, my eyes widening in shock as I saw Zhul stab the orc, causing it to writhe in sudden pain. “What the hell is he doing?”

“What he has to,” I heard Carver growl in an acidic tone in response to my surprise, prompting my eyes to flick in his direction and see that he’d managed to twist himself into a crouched position, the same as me. “What you’ve forced him to do.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t forced him to do anything!” I called back to the man as I shifted my gaze back towards Zhul and the struggling herald in his grasp, seeing the orc reach at the weapon protruding from his chest.

But before he could make contact with the dagger, his fingers suddenly began to turn to dust, followed quickly behind by the remainder of his hand and arm. Continuing rapidly, the next thing I knew, whatever magic that Zhul had afflicted him with had caused the orc’s entire body to completely disintegrate until all that there was left of him was a cloud of shimmering flakes billowing outwards from his tattered robes. Swirling through the air for a heartbeat, the dust was then absorbed by the violet orb, causing it to flare with power.

“Haven’t you, Lyrian?” Carver asked as the orc’s sacrifice caused the sphere to more than double in size. “You’ve been meddling from the beginning and constantly sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong. Did you really think that we wouldn’t do something about it? Even now, I can smell the Naffarian magic on you. I’ll tell you now that it won’t work and save you the time from trying.”

Save me the time from trying what exactly? I thought with confusion as I was forced to pull my eyes away from the orb’s sudden brightness. This wasn’t the first time that Carver had referenced something that he clearly thought that I knew about the Nafarr, enough so that he and the orcs had apparently based all of their decisions off it. But what the hell could it be? The only thing that I know is what the memories showed me this morning, and even then, there was barely anything involving the orcs. They were only in the first—

My eyes widened in sudden understanding as several pieces abruptly clicked into place in my mind, the fast start to the morning and subsequent fighting having kept me from fully processing the memories that’d experienced.

He thinks that I can dominate the orcs the same way that the Nafarr used to, I realized, recalling how the one Nafarrian woman in my memories had somehow taken control of the orc warband after killing the magelord. It’s the only thing that would make sense given what I know and saw in the memory. But I can’t do that…can I?

Whatever the case was for that revelation in question, however, I didn’t have the time to pursue it as the shield that the orcs had sacrificed at least one of their own to restore finally began to take shape. Shimmering high above us, I saw the air thicken once again with a familiar black and purple haze that marked the barrier’s presence, causing an immediate drop off to the magical barrage that had pinned us in place on the siegebreaker’s spine. Whether it was due to the speed that the orcs had recast their spell or because it lacked power, the shield was only somewhat effective in blocking the oncoming spells and ballistae bolts, allowing a portion of them to still slip through.

But with the majority of the spells blunted or redirected away from us, it was enough to cause Carver to rise from his crouched position and begin to sprint towards Amaranth and me, the man intent on resuming our battle. But this time, it was more than just him and his spirit companion charging towards us, the shaman triggering whatever ability it was that his corruption powers gave him to summon four of the same corrupted shades that he had during our battle at Valor’s Point. Taking shape, two each from a pair of black spheres that he threw from his hand as he ran, they manifested themselves mid-sprint on either side him as a quartet of mid-sized bestial humanoids with antlers on their heads and a vaguely wolfish maw.

Biting down a curse as I saw them rapidly close the distance between us, I pushed myself back to my feet with Amaranth following suit beside me, the both of us falling into a defensive stance. Managing to ready ourselves right as the group arrived, we were promptly forced to give ground, lest we end up simply trampled by their combined assault. Backpedaling as fast as our feet could take us, we then dodged, blocked, and parried what felt like an endless avalanche of sweeping claws, biting teeth, and thrusting spear strikes, barely managing to stay ahead of the endless attacks. It was only due to our comparatively better equipment and the battle potion adding to our strength that Amaranth and I managed to survive the initial contact relatively unscathed, suffering just a few minor injuries from the shades that Carver had summoned.

At least until our battle potions started to get close to expiring and we found ourselves pushed back onto the siegebreaker’s head where we’d originally landed without anywhere further to retreat to.

Damn it. Where are Janus and the others? Because we could really use some help here! I asked myself as a warning flashed across my vision, it telling me that I had fifteen seconds left before my enhanced strength wore off. Mentally cursing at how fast time had flown, I made the most of the battle potion while I still had it, reaching up to block a high slash from Carver with my vambrace and stopping his spear cold. But no sooner did I do so, I was promptly forced to twist and avoid a bite to the knee from Valefor, the wolf spirit suddenly moving to join Carver and lunging away from Amaranth to attack me.

Eyes widening at the unexpected switch, I shoved back against the spear that I’d blocked, pushing its tip just far enough to deliver a half-hearted backhand to its haft, striking the weapon hard enough to knock it wide and away from where it could threaten me. This bought me the few seconds I needed to turn my focus fully on Valefor, bringing Savagery up before me, getting ready to strike at it as it prepared to pounce towards me. But as I committed myself to intercept the spirit’s attack, I opened myself up to another one that I only saw coming after it was too late, Carver abruptly adjusting his grip on his shield and sending a spray of pale white magic in my direction. Arriving too fast for me to do anything to avoid it, the next thing I felt was a potent exhaustion falling me followed by what felt like thousand searing bug bites all across my body.

“What’s wrong, Lyrian?” the man taunted as I let out a loud curse from the spell’s effects, two of the shades managing to land glancing hits on me immediately afterward. “It looks like you’re starting to slow down!”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, Carver, I’m just catching my second wind here,” I replied somewhat breathlessly as I did my best to push aside both the crippling magic’s effects and the corruption the shades’ attacks had left, preparing my own spell in response.

Throwing my hand forward the instant I finished speaking, I left Carver with no opportunity to take advantage of his spell, bathing not only him but also Valefor and the shades that had attacked me with a point-blank Cone of Cold. Bursting outward from the center of my palm, the breath of ice washed over the group and sent them all retreating a step with a thick layer of frost forming on their skin and armor. Up until this point, I’d tried to play it a little safely with my mana use, relying on Alacrity and Shocking Touch to give me the edge that I needed. But with Amaranth and me being pushed back to the brink and with no help in sight, I felt it was time to change my tactics, shifting them completely to the offensive and hoping that it would be enough. So it was with that thought that I leapt forward directly behind my spell, focusing my attention on both Carver and the shade immediately beside him before they could recover.

Appraising them in a heartbeat, I saw that the shade had caught the worst of the spell’s effects, the creature having stepped forward to partially shield Carver during my cast. So it was with a Shocking Touch-charged Savagery that I lunged to attack it, the sword landing a vicious slash across what passed for its shoulder and chest, splitting the shadow that was its body as if it were paper. But that single blow was all that I was able to manage before I had to shift my attention back to Carver, the half-orc recovering quickly from the chilling frost that had actually managed to hit him.

“Oh-ho, now there’s the spark that I’m used to seeing!” he exclaimed approvingly as he retaliated to my attack against his shade with a thrust of his spear, its tip beginning to glow with emerald magic. “But I have to say it’s a little too late, Lyrian, because as amusing as this is, I think it’s time that we—”

A bolt of lightning from high above suddenly interrupted Carver before he could finish speaking, its path taking it directly into the shade that I had just wounded. Cracking loudly with power, the missile lanced straight through the bestial shadow before pinning itself to the ground behind it, the impaled creature writhing in agony as it sparked brightly. Staggering backward from the sudden attack, I was able to see Carver’s eyes widen in shock as they shifted upwards to where the bolt had come from, his mouth dropping open in surprise just in time for a voice to reach my ears.

“Sorry we’re late, Lyrian!” I heard Janus shout a second before an armored figure slammed into the ground beside me, his arm reaching out to reclaim the spear that now protruded from the siegebreaker’s skin, the shade that it had impaled now dissipating around it. “We hit some traffic along the way!”

“But you’re here now!” I exclaimed, feeling a surge of relief shoot through me as I saw another pair of spellswords that I didn’t recognize by name land similarly on Amaranth’s flank, both of them immediately attacking the shades with a burst of fiery magic. “And just in time, too! Things were starting to look a little dicey.”

“I can see that!” Janus replied as he pulled his weapon free of where it had stuck and in one smooth motion used it to send a threatening stab towards Carver, catching him square on the shield as it was his turn to take a hurried step backward. “Hey! I know you! You’re the pain in the ass that started this whole mess!”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it,” I said dryly to the other spellsword as I pressed after the retreating shaman, feeling more confident now that help had arrived. “But in any case, Carver, meet Janus. If you haven’t been able to tell, he’s a bit of a fan.”

Unfortunately despite his earlier chattiness, Carver suddenly seemed at a loss for words to answer me, the man doing little more than letting out an angry grunt in response. Though in his defense, it may have been my sword stabbing into his bicep that prevented him from fully articulating himself, or if not that, then the sudden death of another one of his shades under the hands the other two spellswords. Regardless of what it was, however, the man quickly lost his opportunity to say anything in response as I was able to use my superior speed to not only pace his backward retreat but also trap his spear with Savagery. This allowed for me to dart in even closer to the man before he could react, his shield coming up far too slow to block my electrified fist as it struck him across the jaw in a vicious left cross, promptly sending him flying backward and off his feet with a brilliant flash of lightning, the sky above thundering loudly at the same instant that my strike landed.

“Good hit!” Janus exclaimed as Carver then bounced head over heels down the length of the siegebreaker before eventually coming to a stop a dozen or so feet away from Zhul and the other orcs.

“Thanks. I’ve been waiting a hell of a long time to do that,” I replied as I flexed the hand that I’d struck the man with, still feeling the tingling effects that the Ring of Force’s magic left after I’d activated it. But as I shook it off, my attention was then yanked back towards the battle around me, Carver’s spirit companion belatedly coming to his rescue.

Snapping out with a bite towards my arm that I narrowly avoided, I was able to slash at the creature with Savagery, drawing a line not only through the crimson spirit’s shoulder but also its snout. The result had the creature growling with pain as it leapt back away from me, suddenly realizing that it was outmatched as another of the shades that Carver had summoned was slain by Amaranth and the others.

But that realization came far too late to save the spirit.

Forming around it just as it began to turn to flee, thick lengths of azure chains abruptly manifested around the crimson wolf, wrapping themselves around its body before anchoring themselves to the muddy ground beneath. The result pinned the hapless spirit in place just long enough for Amaranth and me to fully turn our focus towards it, leaving the remaining two shades for the others to finish off. There was little grace or skill in what followed afterward, the two of us doing what we needed to in order to rid ourselves of the threat that the spirit posed, it eventually losing shape and dissipating into a red mist of energy.

Followed, of course, by a loud scream of pain from Carver.

Glancing up at the sound of his voice, I saw that he was still in the process of rising to his feet after my punch, the blow combined with the loss of his spirit companion leaving him visibly dazed. But as I watched him struggle to rise, I heard Zhul’s voice call out to Carver, prompting my eyes to shift towards its source. Spotting him right where I’d last seen him by the violet orb, the orc warlord had turned his attention away from the sphere of magic to focus on the shaman, his words carrying just far enough for us to hear.

“Your effort disgusts me,” he said in a savage, yet calm tone to the man. “These people have bested you and your tribe time and time again, and now you allow them to do so once more. Perhaps you do not have a place among the horde after all.”

“I allow them nothing!” Carver growled in response as he staggered fully back up to his feet.

“Then prove otherwise by making better use of the gifts that Riius has given you, and kill them before we do,” he said while turning his gaze towards us, the very air around him suddenly growing darker as thick shadows began to rise from his body. “Because we have grown tired of watching you fail.”

With his words hanging in the air, Zhul began to stride forward, stretching out his hand out beside him as he did so, causing a stream of the living darkness to flow towards it. Morphing and undulating as it moved, the shadow then shaped itself into the form a massive double-sided axe, gaining a visible hardness to it the instant the warlord grabbed a hold of its haft. But as the darkness that formed his weapon took shape, so too did the rest that billowed out from his body, flowing over his armor as if it were a second skin. It even went as far as to cover his exposed face and head, forming itself into a helmet made of pure shadow, its surface completely featureless, save for two bright grey slivers to mark its eyes. Then, with his transformation seemingly complete, Zhul lunged towards us with a sudden burst of speed.

“Whoa! Look out!” I shouted while flinching at Zhul’s abrupt charge towards us, the warlord having exploded into motion faster than I had thought possible, managing to cross nearly half the distance separating us in the blink of an eye. Seeing that I only had seconds to get out of the way, lest I end up on the wrong end of his massive axe, I instinctively leaned to my right in preparation to dodge.

Only to have the entire world around me turn abruptly dark and silent just as I was about to move, followed by the nauseating feeling of corruption clawing into me.

<Where has everything gone?> I heard Amaranth demand the instant that everything vanished, whatever it was that had afflicted me having done the same to him too. <I cannot see or hear anything, and the air has turned foul around me!>

<I don’t know! Me either!> I exclaimed mentally, feeling my heartrate skyrocket as I tried to process my sudden loss of sight and hearing, the presence of the siegebreaker, Zhul, and the battle beyond having completely replaced by pitch-black night and complete silence. Panicking as I realized that the warlord was still charging towards me, I did the only thing I could do and immediately activated True Sight. Reacting instantly, the ability—to my intent relief—pierced through the darkness that had fallen over me and restored my vision as it had been a second earlier, except with everything cast in an azure hue of magic.

And, of course, with Zhul being much, much closer, his axe already in the process of swinging towards me.

Realizing that I’d lost my window to evade him as I originally intended, I quickly shouted a mental warning to Amaranth as I abruptly changed tactics, taking the only remaining option that I saw before me.

I ducked.

Practically faceplanting with the speed that I threw myself downwards, I just barely managed to avoid being struck by Zhul’s axe as it swept over me, the orc warlord lunging forward at the end of his charge to sweep his weapon in a mighty horizontal cleave. Had I not avoided it, there was little doubt in my mind that the powerful blow would have likely chopped me in two—or failing that, sent me flying straight into the air like a human-sized baseball.

Whoa, too close! I thought, glancing back up after I felt the weapon pass over me, seeing Zhul’s helmeted face glare down at me with what I was sure was contempt, his foot lashing out in a kick a second later. Rolling to my right in response to the attack, I retaliated with my own, managing to land a sweeping slash with Savagery on the armored leg as I dodged by it. The blow did nothing in terms of actually managing to injure Zhul, simply striking across the thick metal shin guards that he wore. But my intent, at least besides letting the warlord know that I wasn’t toothless, was to double-check if I heard anything from the hit, the silence around me still complete. It was then as my blade scraped across Zhul’s armor soundlessly that I figured out what he’d done, the magic I saw all around me suddenly becoming familiar. He dropped the same cloud of corruption that Carver dropped on me the last time we fought. Except this cloud silences everything within it too, so we can’t see or call on one another for help. At least everyone other than Amaranth and me.

Realizing that I had to do something about the spell before Zhul could take advantage of it and scythe or corrupt our entire group, I pushed myself back up onto my feet, while sending a pair of cuts towards the man. Catching them easily on the haft of his axe, the attacks caused him to shift his focus towards me just long enough that I could cast a point-blank Flameburst at his helmeted face. Exploding out from my open palm, the torrent of fire and ash was enough to check the warlord’s attack and allow me to leap backward and out of range of his sweeping axe. The movement happened to place me directly where I wanted to be for the next step of my hastily cobbled together plan.

Which was to activate Mana Torrent directly in the center of whatever spell that Zhul had dropped on us.

Instantly, I felt my hunger leap out from within as I called on it, the mysterious magic reaching out to grab hold of all the mana around me and yank it sharply towards me. Taking only a second to do so, I felt a veritable torrent of power flow into me, restoring all of my mana, along with a potent surge of pain and nausea, my stomach twisting as the ability came to an end. Wincing in response to the twin sensations, I was promptly rewarded for my efforts by the sounds of battle returning all around me and the magical hue that was the darkness Zhul had cast vanishing from my vision.

“Rah, what the hell was that—oh, shit!” I heard Janus exclaim as everything returned, his voice abruptly breaking as he spotted Zhul bringing his axe back for another swing.

Already moving in anticipation of the attack, I pushed through the effects of the corruption surging through me and once again dodged under the sweeping cleave, this time throwing myself into a roll that put me on the warlord’s flank. As I did, however, I heard the sound of something heavy hitting metal, followed by a loud pained scream ringing out from where I’d last seen the two spellswords. Regaining my feet quickly from my evasive maneuvers, I came up swinging towards Zhul, slashing out with Savagery at his open side. But as my sword reached out towards the orc, a portion of the shadow emanating from his body abruptly darkened, forming itself into an inky black tendril that shot out to block my attack before it could even reach him.

Followed by two others lashing out towards me in immediate retaliation.

“Hrm,” I heard him muse as I spun away from what I soon discovered were razor-sharp tendrils, one of them managing to draw a line across my chin and face, just narrowly missing my throat. “So you were the one with the reaving touch that they spoke of.”

What the hell? Where did those things come from? I exclaimed with a mental hiss of pain, barely processing Zhul’s cryptic words as I completed my spin and found myself forced to defend against even more of the tendrils the second that I came to a stop.

With just enough time for my eyes to widen before I was forced to act, I saw three dark appendages leap out from the warlord’s shadow, forcing me to simultaneously dodge one tendril while meeting another with a hard parry. Connecting solidly with the shadow, I instantly felt like I had tried to block a two-handed swing from Zhul’s massive axe, my arm buckling at first under the shadow’s strength. Yet as soon as I began to drain mana from the attacking tendril, the pressure instantly vanished, allowing Savagery to cut straight through it as if it were paper. But despite my success in avoiding the first two attacks, there was nothing that I could do for the third, the shadow lancing out to stab me in the outer thigh with enough force to stagger me.

“Ah, shit!” I cursed as I belatedly swept my sword through the shadow, once again channeling my mana leech ability through the weapon and slicing through it, promptly causing the length that had been buried in my leg to dissipate.

Gritting my teeth from the pain, I readied myself from yet another attack from Zhul bringing Savagery upwards in a protective guard to defend against another shadowy assault. But as I did, however, I saw that his attention had finally been drawn away by the others who had rushed to attack the orc having finally recovered from his disorienting spell. Hitting him with several blasts of magic, I saw both Janus and Amaranth lead the way in attacking the warlord, with the two other spellswords rushing to attack him from the opposite flank. Focusing on the former pair, I saw them, bathe Zhul in fire and electricity as they closed before following up with claw and spear. Striking with obvious strength behind his blows, I saw Janus’s weapon blur as he attacked Zhul, the warlord spinning his axe in his grip to block the spear’s tip on its head. Lunging forward in sync with the other Spellsword’s assault, Amaranth moved to take advantage of Zhul’s distraction and struck at his hips and knees, looking to disrupt his balance. Yet as my familiar’s paws reached out to swipe at his body, I saw the cloak of shadows surrounding Zhul darken the same way they had when I attacked, forming into a tendril of shadow to block it.

And then immediately retaliating the same way it had to me.

Damn, we can’t even touch him without his shadow counterattacking us, I thought, managing to catch my breath before moving back in to attack Zhul, a seed of doubt starting to bloom in my mind. So far, the warlord had managed to fight all five of us to a standstill without breaking so much as a sweat, seemingly untouched by all the magic that Janus and Amaranth had just thrown at him. Granted it was still early in the fight and there was a chance that we might be able to break through his defenses if given enough time, but I wasn’t completely confident that we would get it.

My thoughts at that point were interrupted by the sensation of a heavy raindrop hitting me in the face as I slashed out at Zhul, Savagery once again being blocked by his cloak of shadow despite me draining all the mana I could as I made contact. This time, however, as I pulled back from my attack, I was able to cut down the retaliating tendrils before they could reach me, slicing through them just in time for another raindrop to splash against me, followed by another and another. This prompted me to glance briefly towards the storm-filled sky in time to see a fork of lightning arc across it. It was at that point then that I remembered my original purpose in leaping over to the siegebreaker, the duel with Carver and Zhul’s later intervention having distracted me.

We came here to kill the orc casters and see if we couldn’t bring down the shield for good, I recalled, barely even seeing the protective barrier above me. In fact, what little that I did see of the violet haze looked to be losing strength rapidly, large holes appearing in its coverage. Frowning at the sight, I wondered what exactly was happening with the shield, especially since none of us had interfered with the orcs channeling it. Adjusting position so I could better see around Zhul, I risked a quick glance in their direction in hopes of seeing just what they exactly where doing.

Only to have my heart abruptly miss a beat the moment I did.

Spotting the second group of heralds, I saw that the five that remained had broken away from the now fading orb that powered the shield around us and had moved to channel their own spells, causing dark shadows similar to those that surrounded Zhul to pour out from their bodies. But where the darkness he had summoned had simply melded with his existing armor, the ones that the heralds called wrapped themselves around their bodies, transforming themselves into vicious-looking creatures, not unlike the shadows we’d spent the last day fighting, only larger. Yet if that itself wasn’t enough to unnerve me, it was my eyes landing on Carver a few strides away from that pushed me over the edge. Channeling a torrent of dark magic as the other heralds did, the man was also using it to fuel some sort of transformation. But where the others’ magic called pure shadow from their bodies, Carver’s brought forth a thick tar slime, the black mass oozing to cover his body.

They’re all transforming too, I thought as my attention landed on the shaman, my earlier seed of doubt rapidly blooming into outright dread at the realization that we would soon have far more than just Zhul to deal with.

Something that I knew we wouldn’t be able to stand up to.

“We’re about to have incoming!” I shouted as a flash of movement caused me to pull my gaze away from Carver and back towards the heralds, letting me see that they’d finished their transformation ahead of him had begun to turn our way. But no sooner were those words out of my mouth did they launch themselves towards us, abandoning the glowing orb that they’d painstakingly recast, leaving it to slowly begin to fade. “Check that. We have incoming!”

Charging forward towards us with the same speed that Zhul did, the next thing I knew I was reeling away from a wall of claws descending down upon me, barely managing to cast Arcane Shield before they arrived. Forming just in time, the barrier of mana managed to blunt their attacks before they could overwhelm me as I abandoned my position on Zhul’s flank and leapt towards the others, sparks of power flaring from my shield each time they hit it. But as I moved towards the others for safety, so too did the heralds follow me, falling upon all of us as they swarmed around Zhul to attack.

“There’s too many of them!” Janus exclaimed as we fell into a rough line across the siegebreaker’s head, just barely having enough room to stand abreast, let alone dodge or maneuver properly across its increasing wet surface, the falling rain intensifying with every second that passed. “I think it’s time to beat feet, Lyrian! We can’t survive here—ah, shit, Tyrel!”

Flinching at the guild leader’s shout, I didn’t have to turn my head to know what had happened, feeling the spellsword’s death through both raid sense and seeing it firsthand in how Zhul and the other heralds abruptly surged forward against us. This forced me to bite down any reply that I might have had for the other man as we all retreated another step backward in a desperate attempt to shorten our line, surrendering what little space we had left. As we did, however, the siegebreaker picked that moment to suddenly pick up its pace, breaking into what passed for a sprint for the massive creature and further disrupting our already precarious balance.

“Now you see the true might of the Unshackled Horde, the might that has been sealed away for far too long,” I heard Zhul say as the abrupt change in momentum threw me forward into the herald, my Arcane Shield protecting me from one last sweeping set of claws before the magic empowering it reached its limit and the spell came to an end.

Fortunately, that was all that I needed to adjust to the change in motion beneath me and retaliate to the transformed orc’s attack with an abrupt casting of Cone of Cold. Exploding outwards from my palm, the magic bathed it with a burst of frost, instantly turning not only the water dripping from its body to ice but also the water directly beneath their feet. This in turn then prompted it to start to slip, their clawed feet unable to find purchase on the now-slick surface.

Taking immediate advantage of their flailing, I followed up my magical attack by stabbing out with Savagery, the tip of the sword finally finding a way through the thick shadows and piercing deep into the herald’s chest. Eyes widening at my unexpected success in actually being able to pierce through the dark magic that the orc had armored itself with, I didn’t hesitate in following it up with a Shocking Touch, channeling it through the blade as I thrust it even deeper. Twisting in pain from both my attack and the magic coursing through it, the herald moved to swipe at me with one of its claws but promptly overbalanced itself as it did so, causing its feet to shoot out sideways from under it. Arms windmilling in panic, the orc then had no chance to save itself as it suddenly found itself sliding off the siegebreaker’s head and towards the ground below.

Well, scratch one at least, I said mentally as I watched the shadowy figure fall, silently thankful that I’d managed to pull my sword free before they’d taken it with them. But just as I started to reset my positioning and call out to Janus so that we could time the retreat that we desperately needed, a black blur suddenly rushed through the spot where the herald had been standing. Barely even seeing it before it slammed into me, I felt a powerful set of arms wrap themselves around my body and pull me straight off my feet as it continued to charge forward. Stunned from the unexpected attack, it took me a second to even realize what had happened, my mind snapping back into focus just in time to breathe in a lungful of rotting air and hear Carver’s discordant voice in my ear.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten about me, Lyrian,” he said in a sinister tone. “Because I don’t think we’re quite done with one another just yet.”

Then the next thing I knew, we were airborne.

Chapter 69

Letting out a surprised shout as I felt Carver’s powerful leap propel us up and off the siegebreaker, I instinctively moved to fight back against the man, attempting to bring my sword to bear. Yet as I tried to, I found that it was pinned in between us, the crushing embrace that he had enveloped me with trapping the blade flat against our bodies. Feeling my panic spike at the realization that I was defenseless and completely unable to see anything other than the sticky black tar that was Carver’s chest, I wracked my brain for something, anything, that I could do in order break his hold on me.

Oh, this is going to suck, I thought as a desperate idea snapped to mind, causing me to ready another of the spells that I’d traded Janus for. Feeling the magic rapidly build, I shoved as hard as I could against Carver with my free hand, triggering Concussive Blast the instant the spell was ready. Forming directly between us, the magic instantly detonated with a thunderous burst of power, the strength of which, while paling in comparison to my Ring of Force, was far more than enough to break the man’s hold on me.

As a side effect, it also sent us both spiraling through the air away from one another, wildly altering whatever trajectory that Carver had originally sent us on.

Feeling my stomach lurch as I spun head over heels, it was all that I could do to hold onto Savagery, vaguely hearing Amaranth shout something incomprehensible through my mind at the same instant that siegebreaker came into view, followed by Aldford’s palisade a second later. Eyes widening at the sight, I had just enough time to realize what I was seeing before my flight came to an abrupt end as I crash-landed on the ramparts, narrowly missing the wall’s edge by inches. Nearly managing to clear the platform as I then bounced and rolled, I was saved from going over its opposite end and falling to the ground behind it by virtue of the railing, or rather the sturdy post that caught me square in the chest and stopped me.

Ugh, I was right. That did suck, I thought with a groan as I tried to focus past the new layer of pain that now radiated through my body, the waves pulsing in tune with my rapid heartbeat. While the landing wasn’t the worst that I’d had to endure in my career as an adventurer, it was far from the most pleasant, leaving me with a score of new bruises as well as an aching head. But as I glanced towards my combat log, I was still relieved to see that I had a little under half my hit points left, which wasn’t too bad considering the punishment I’d taken. What the hell was Carver trying to do when he grabbed—oh shit, wait. The—

It was right at that point, just when my head cleared enough to remember about the siegebreaker, that it arrived with thunderous force.

Feeling it slam into the wall an instant before the deafening crack filled my ears, the next thing I knew was that I was moving again. This time, however, instead of being sent up into the air, it was gravity threatening to pull me down as the ramparts beneath me suddenly burst outwards, sending me rolling off its edge. Flailing as I fell, I barely managed to grab hold of a piece of the now dangling rampart while also managing to not to cut myself with Savagery, the blade having been in my hand all this time. Hanging from its edge as the palisade wall buckled inward, I found myself staring at a portion of the siegebreaker’s massive snout, having burst free of the wood little more than twenty feet away from me.

Shit, that was close! I thought with a wince as I felt the other spellsword that had joined me in my attack suddenly die, followed by Amaranth and Janus suddenly moving farther away from me, the pair either thrown clear from the impact or managing to flee in time with it. Whatever the case, however, I didn’t have the time to think about it as the siegebreaker forced itself heavily against the wall, causing it to shatter even further, the motion sending me flailing wildly from side to side. Fortunately, though, despite its best efforts, the wall managed to hold it at bay, Léandre’s craftsmanship keeping it from breaking through.

For now, at least, I added as the creature’s efforts caused my already precarious hold to weaken and rain shards of wood down at me, the sound of the wall cracking and splintering giving me all the encouragement that I needed to get moving—especially since I also knew Carver was lingering nearby, my brief encounter with him since he’d yanked me off the siegebreaker only serving to fuel my efforts. He can’t have gone far after I broke his hold on me, and I think it’s too much to hope that he ended up crushed by the siegebreaker. I wonder what his plan was anyway? Was he hoping to throw me in front of it before it hit? Or did he want to kill me himself?

Scrambling as fast as I could while the questions played through my mind, I was able to use the hanging debris from the palisade along with Savagery to climb towards the still intact portions of the ramparts, and soon, I was pulling myself back up onto stable ground. As I did, I started to hear the distant sound of shouting voices as people started to react to the siegebreaker’s attack, eventually spotting none other than Freya, Helix, and Abaddon as they raced towards me, cutting through a pair of dervishes on the ramparts. Feeling an intense surge of relief to see them as I rose to my feet, I opened my mouth to call out to them, only to have a panicked warning from Freya reach my ears first.

“Look out, Lyr!” she shouted in a desperate tone. “Behind you!”

Immediately flinching at her warning, I caught the scent of rotting meat a second before a shadow suddenly fell over me, followed by something heavy hitting me in the back. Knocked forward from the impact, I had just enough presence of mind to use my sudden momentum to throw myself into a roll, feeling something graze the back of my helmet in the process.

“Ugh, you always have a way of making things more difficult for yourself, Lyrian,” I heard Carver’s voice say from behind me as I somersaulted once across the creaking ramparts before leaping back up to my feet. “It’s a trait of yours that’s starting to get particularly annoying.”

“I think that’s a matter of perspective, Carver,” I replied to the man as I spun in the direction of his voice, “because from where I’m stand—”

I instantly felt my words die in my throat as I finished my turn and finally laid eyes on the thing that Carver had become after his transformation, the man wasting no in time in lunging forward and forcing me to defend against his claws as I processed my shock.

“What’s wrong, Lyrian?” Carver asked in a mocking tone as he attacked, cocking his head to the side as he noticed my surprise. “Do I have something on my face?”

Standing at just over seven feet tall, Carver’s transformation had turned him into a bestial monstrosity seemingly formed entirely of pure corruption, his body emanating a putrid stench of rotting meat. Yet despite his towering height, his new form appeared almost too gaunt for its massive frame, the man’s claw-tipped arms and legs stretching out to unnatural proportions from a torso that seemed too small to support them. The combined effect gave him a lanky and almost skeletal appearance despite the fact that he was even larger than before. Completing his transformation was his familiar trademark set of jagged antlers set on top of a pale white elk skull, bright crimson eyes burning from within its sockets as they glared down at us with malice.

A wendigo, I thought as I stared, just barely keeping ahead of the monstrous entity that was now Carver as he swept his claws out towards me, a part of my mind recognizing its vague appearance. He transformed himself into a wendigo.

“Lyrian!” I heard Freya shout from almost immediately behind me, her voice breaking through my shock as I narrowly dodged one of his claws, the siegebreaker picking that instant to throw itself against the wall once again, sending it shaking and nearly causing me to lose my balance. “What the hell is that thing?”

“That thing is me, dear,” Carver replied in an oily tone slowing his attacks just enough so he could look past me, his body visibly tensing in preparation for movement. “I really do hope you haven’t forgotten about little old me after all this time. It’s been a long while since we last crossed paths.”

“C-Carver?” Freya answered with surprise as she finally fell in beside me, her spear lancing out to attack the man, only to have him unnaturally twist his body to evade it. “Th-that’s you?”

“So it is,” the man replied as he launched himself forward to attack both Freya and me, seemingly unconcerned by the fact that he was becoming rapidly outnumbered. “And I see you’ve brought a pair of the lizards with you, how nice! It’s been too long since we had a group of us together again.”

Slashing out towards us with his razor-sharp claws, Carver then practically bull rushed into Freya and me, using his comparatively larger bulk to force us backward into Abaddon and Helix arriving behind us, the damaged section of the ramparts here too precarious to allow us to fight three or more abreast.

Not that we even had a chance to, with Helix’s voice calling out a second later in warning.

“Heads up! More coming over the wall!” he called out, his voice suddenly increasing in urgency. “A dervish and three spirits!”

“Ah, isn’t that just perfect timing?” Carver exclaimed as he lunged forward, catching me with a feint that allowed him to plant a heavy fist squarely into my shoulder, the heavy blow sending me spinning towards the wall’s lip, its slightly-higher-than-waist-high height keeping me from tumbling straight over it. “I was almost worried I’d be all alone here.”

Feeling the wind partially leave my body from the impact, I saw Freya try and come to my rescue by thrusting out with her spear and landing a powerful strike on Carver’s shoulder. But to both hers and my dismay, her spear tip simply glanced off the black layer of corruption that armored him, the only sign of her attack even having landed being a slight shift in momentum from the weight behind the attack. Adjusting quickly, however, Carver batted away her weapon as if it were an annoying insect biting at him before delivering a powerful kick into her midsection that sent her sprawling backward into Abaddon’s back behind her.

Damn, he just shrugged off Freya’s attack like it was nothing! I exclaimed, struggling to catch my breath, recalling seeing a similar effect during our exchange against both the heralds and Zhul in my earlier fight on the siegebreaker.

Is it because they have damage reduction or a damage shield protecting them? I wondered, recalling that aside from being able to slice apart Zhul’s shadow tendrils, even my mana-draining touch hadn’t been able to pierce through the layer of magic armoring them. Or, at least, not easily since I did manage to land one attack on a herald, stabbing through its shadows and injuring it right before Carver had attacked me. But that was after I hit it a half dozen times and blasted it with magic. Did I end up weakening it enough to get through?

Realizing that I had a way to test that theory, I sent a blast of fire towards the shaman as I slid down the still-shaking wall away from him with what space I had, narrowly evading a claw that would have skewered me had I stayed put. The timely dodge allowed me to catch him full-on with the spell, Flameburst sending a wave of flames washing over his body, though to no visible effect. Undeterred, though, I followed up the magical burst with a pair of quick slashes against Carver’s arm, draining mana with the second strike and, earning me a barely noticeable flinch as he abruptly pulled the limb back. Satisfied with my initial test, I fought down the small amount of corruption that I’d absorbed from his strike and glanced towards my combat log, hoping to get an idea of how effective my attacks had been.

Your spell has encountered a protective barrier and has had its magic resisted!

Your [Flameburst] burns Carver’s [Form of Corruption] for 68 (-75%) points of fire damage!

Your weapon has encountered a protective barrier and has had it attack blunted!

You slash Carver’s [Form of Corruption] for 11 (-90%) points of damage!

You slash Carver’s [Form of Corruption] for 12 (-90%) points of damage!

Your [Mana Leech] drains 85 (+25%) mana from Carver’s [Form of Corruption]!

Your [Mana Leech] hits Carver’s [Form of Corruption] for 85 (+25%) points of damage!

Shit, he has everything! I realized with a curse as I skimmed over the log, the game helpfully highlighting the percentages with splashes of red and green so I could easily absorb their contents. He has both spell and damage resistance, plus a damage shield on top of it! The only thing not affected is my mana drain, but even then, it still gets absorbed, damaging his form and not him.

But that was about as far as I was able to get with my revelation before Amaranth’s voice filtered into my mind at the same time as Carver resumed his attack, the man pressing forward once again, looking to preserve his earlier his momentum.

<I am fleeing towards you with a pair of hungry predators on my tail!> my familiar said to me with sudden urgency as I blocked one of Carver’s claws, our link allowing me to sense that the cat was not only rapidly moving in my direction but was just seconds away from arriving. <I am leading them away from Janus and Zhul as they battle one another, but they are too much for me to withstand alone!>

<Shit, okay!> I replied back to Amaranth as I evaded a follow-up pair of swipes from Carver, the strength and speed behind his attacks forcing me to backpedal until I hit Helix behind me. <But be ready! Carver is here, and we’re under attack too!>

<Then I will fall upon them the instant I arrive and strike with surprise!> the cat told me with a mental growl as I was fortunately saved from needing to weather another round of attacks by the timely arrival of Abaddon on my left.

Having traded places with Freya, the bulky lizardman lunged forward to meet Carver’s assault with his shield and slammed into him before he could react. Connecting solidly, the exchange not only stopped Carver’s advance cold, but it also gave Helix behind me the time he needed to plant his hand flat on my back and send a wave of healing energy through me, wiping away the worst of my injuries. Feeling a surge of gratitude at the lizardman’s efforts despite what I knew had to be a fierce battle behind me, I made the most of the healing by rushing to attack once again. Falling in beside Abaddon as I did so, I managed to take advantage of his assault on Carver to land another cut along his arm as the lizardman shoved him backward with enough force to temporarily lift him from his feet.

This had a convenient side effect of putting him in the perfect position for Amaranth, who suddenly blinked into existence just above and behind him.

Slamming into Carver with his claws outstretched, the cat hit him from behind high in the shoulders, his momentum combined with his weight causing the already off-balance shaman to fall to his knees, a clawed hand being the only thing saving him from falling completely prone.

“Oof—what?” the transformed orc grunted with surprised anger as he fell, his head abruptly snapping to the side as Amaranth took advantage of his position to send a powerful paw strike towards the pale elk skull on his shoulders. But that single strike was all that the cat had time for before he promptly leapt off the shaman, clearing not only him but our entire group in a single pounce, a loud yelp of surprise from Freya signaling that he’d joined the battle there.

“We have more incoming!” I shouted as soon I saw my familiar arrive, seeing a pair of heralds leap over the siegebreaker’s head towards us as it pulled itself free of the palisade, causing the entire length of the wall beneath us to violently shake once again. I’d purposefully held off from passing along Amaranth’s warning about their arrival until now, lest it tip off Carver, hoping to take advantage of the surprise it offered—which is precisely what Abaddon and I did, sending a barrage of attacks towards the stunned man, hoping that despite their apparent ineffectiveness, they would steadily chip away at the magic that protected him.

We need to wear him down as best we can, I told myself as I felt a wave of corruption flow up my arm and into my stomach as I struck Carver twice across the neck and shoulder, Savagery just sliding off his onyx skin without even leaving a mark. I got through on that other herald after beating on it for a while. We can do the same again for him.

But, of course, Carver wasn’t about to simply lie down and take the beating that we sent his way, despite how little it apparently hurt him, the man rising to his feet at the same instant the other heralds landed behind him.

“Rah, enough of this!” he growled in an angry tone, his eyes suddenly glowing a bright red as he exploded upwards, slashing out with his claws to send us retreating back a step. “You want to play rough? Let’s play rough!”

With his eyes continuing to grow in intensity as he spoke, the next thing I knew, Carver was sharply breathing out a thick cloud of rancid-smelling smoke from his mouth, sending it billowing towards Abaddon and me. Immediately flinching at the magic, my first instinct was to try and blast it away from me with Cone of Cold, hoping that the intense winds conjured by the spell would either keep it at bay, or if not, somehow disrupt it. Casting the spell as quickly as I could, I managed to partially succeed in my attempt, sending a portion of the foul gas back directly towards Carver and the heralds behind him as well as bathing the former of the trio with a blast of frost.

But that still left a substantial amount of shaman’s rotting breath to wash over us, causing all five of us to retch and cough with nausea as the corruption it carried afflicted our bodies, followed by our skin and eyes burning as if scalded by acid from its touch. It also had the side effect of blinding us, the black gas obscuring everything from sight. Or rather it did for everyone other than me, my still-active True Sight managing to slice through it, despite my watering eyes. It was that advantage that allowed me to see the siegebreaker’s head in the process of turning, its attention drawn by the heralds that had leapt over towards us.

Oh, damn, please don’t be doing what I think you’re about to be doing! I thought urgently as I was forced to take my eyes partially away from the monstrous creature to focus on Carver, who lunged forward to attack through the smoke, the two heralds using his distraction to leap on the wall’s edge and charge forward beside him. Forcing down a cough from the rancid smoke, I managed to block Carver’s leading claw swipe with Savagery before quickly shifting the blade to deflect a similar attack from a herald, using the opportunity to drain a surge of mana from each of them in the process. But that came at the cost of a follow-up slashing kick from Carver that I never saw, my attention having remained high in order to track both siegebreaker and the two heralds.

Which in the case of the former, I saw was still turning in our direction, the massive beast’s maw opening wide as its body coiled in preparation to lunge.

Ugh, it’s definitely doing what I think it’s doing! I exclaimed with sudden urgency, gritting my teeth against the searing pain that erupted across my calf and shin as I blocked another swipe from the second herald rushing along the wall, the first abruptly leaping straight past me as it moved to attack the others. Realizing that our situation was rapidly deteriorating across multiple fronts, I forced myself to suck in a lungful of the corrupted air that Carver had spat forth to shout a warning for others, knowing that we only had seconds to react.

“We need to move!” I called out as loudly as I could manage, my throat burning more and more with every word I spoke. “The siegebreaker is coming in again right on top of us!”

Moving as I shouted, I pushed away from the wall to my right, dodging another claw from Carver as he continued to press his attack. Needing to buy some space from the man, I sent a Flameburst in his direction, the flames burning through the haze around us and sending them swirling. That had the side effect of clearing Abaddon’s vision, allowing the large lizardman to resume his attack, which, in turn, gave me the opportunity to twist and glance behind us, where Freya and the others were in hopes of finding an escape route. Unfortunately, those hopes were promptly dashed as I saw that not only were they still engaged with now a pair of dervishes in addition to the herald that had escaped me, but the ramparts past them were completely packed with more adventurers fighting against the invaders. Enough so that we would have little chance of forcing our way past them in time.

So that left us with only one option.

“Everybody off the ramparts! Jump if you have to!” I shouted as I turned back towards Carver and the other herald, only to see them beginning to turn to flee themselves, both either having heard my warning or sensed the massive creature readying itself to attack.

Oh no, you don’t! I thought with a scowl as they turned away from us, my immediate instinct being to thrust my free hand forward and throw a quick spell in their direction. One of you can just stay put right here.

Snapping into existence right as I finished my thought, I had just enough time to see a length of azure chain materialize between the pair right as I turned away, not daring to risk the time to watch which one of them it grabbed. Instead, I rushed to the edge of the ramparts and leapt off them and into the town below, following Abaddon’s trailing form down as he led the way ahead of me and sensing the others rush to follow. Managing to make the leap a second before I felt a dark shadow fall over me, I heard a loud crack of splintering wood echo out from behind, temporarily drowning out the sounds of battle. Throwing myself forward as I landed, I did my best to channel the energy of my fall into a somersault, rolling head over heels twice across the thankfully clear ground at the base of the palisade. Shedding my momentum quickly, I leapt back up to my feet the first instant that I was able to, my body twisting to look at what I already knew would be a horrific sight.

“Oh, fuck,” I cursed in a whisper the instant that the siegebreaker came into view, the massive war beast having done exactly what I’d feared and lunged forward with its open maw to take a gargantuan bite out of the palisade wall. Stunned by the sight, the next thing I knew was raid sense informing me of nearly a dozen deaths from the adventurers on the wall as the monster bit down even harder on the barrier, one of them, in particular, causing my heart to do a flip.

Damn, he got Helix! I realized, sensing the lizardman’s death among those who had been caught in the siegebreaker’s attack. Immediately fearing the worse, I searched for both Freya and Amaranth’s presence, relief coming to me quickly when I saw them rising to their feet a short distance away, having managed to escape in time. Phew, they’re both fine. Now, what are the odds that Carver was caught by my spell over the herald? It’d be great not to have to worry about him anymore.

But that fleeting thought was all that I was able to manage before my attention was stolen back by the siegebreaker as it began to pull on the wall, the already loud cacophony of splintering and cracking wood growing even louder. Staring onwards in horror, there was nothing for us to do but watch as the orc abomination’s powerful tug caused a large section of the palisade to abruptly give way, the damaged fortification having finally reached its limit. Peeling outward at first as the colossal war beast retreated a step with the wall in its maw, the siegebreaker then twisted its head, the savage motion tearing it away from the remainder of still-intact palisade with a loud splintering of wood. That then left the creature holding a two-dozen-foot-long length of wall in its jaws, which it continued to drag backward along with it, finally letting it fall free of its maw just when it was above the river. Falling flat with a loud clatter of breaking wood, the relatively still intact portion of wall then came to rest directly on top of the running channel of water, effectively forming a makeshift bridge that spanned the two sides on either side of it.

A bridge that the legion orcs in the distance immediately began to rush forward to.

“Oh no, the wall,” Freya whispered, the woman being the first to say anything at all as we stared at the newly formed breach in Aldford’s defenses. “Th-this is bad. Really, bad.”

“And it’s about to get worse! Look!” I exclaimed as a growing wave of spirits, shadows, and dervishes started to rush through the gap ahead of the oncoming orcs, the creatures having already been on the opposite side of the wall. “We need to go! Now! While we still have the time!"

Not needing any more prompting as the oncoming group of invaders charged towards us the four of us did the only thing that we could do in the situation that we found ourselves in.

We ran.

Chapter 70

Turning and fleeing before we could be overwhelmed by our attackers, we fled deeper into Aldford as fast as our feet could carry us. As we did, we sensed that we weren’t the only ones fleeing, several groups of defenders also abandoning the wall just behind us.

“We need to regroup with those we can!” Freya shouted as we ran. “As well as call for reinforcements! If we can rally enough people, we can counterattack and try to stop the orcs at the breach before they all flood into the town!”

“That’s going to be hard to do with all of these creatures chasing us!” Abaddon shouted in response, the lizardman glancing over his shoulder as he spoke. “As soon as we slow down, they will catch and swarm us! We will be bogged down immediately!”

“Then let me split a chunk of them off!” I suggested as I took my own look at the trailing train of monsters behind us. “Amaranth and I can get their attention and let them chase us through the town. It should hopefully buy you both some time to rally everyone!”

“Shit, are you sure, Lyr?” Freya replied. “There are a lot of them!”

“You’re not wrong, but I don’t see anything else we can do!” I said as I reached into my belt pocket to check just how many vials I had left, a quick search telling me that I only had a pair of mana potions remaining. “If we don’t get people moving to seal that breach, we’re done for! Go sort everyone out, and I’ll regroup with you all when I can!”

With that, Amaranth and I abruptly broke away from the group and turned to face the wave of monsters chasing us, my heart fluttering when I realized just how many there were.

<I don’t suppose you have any good ideas on how to get them to chase us now, do you?> I asked Amaranth half-heartedly as we began a seemingly suicidal rush towards the group.

<Perhaps,> the cat answered as he ran alongside me. <If they are anything like the predators they appear to be, then there is little else that will earn their ire more than prey that wounds them and turns to flee.>

<I was afraid you’d say something like that,> I replied, already having suspected that it would take something along those lines to garner their attention. <In that case then, let’s go with that plan and hit them as hard as we can!>

Finishing our sprint towards the oncoming wave of invaders, Amaranth and I slowed just short of them, sending out twin waves of fire in their direction, the flames washing over their leading ranks. Combined together, the magic was enough to kill a handful of already weakened spirits and shadows among them while badly singeing others in the process. But that single spell was all that we had time for, both of us then blink stepping away, regaining some of the space that we’d surrendered in order to attack.

<Well, that looks like it might have done the trick!> I exclaimed to Amaranth as we reappeared together a short distance away from the swarm, the creatures that we’d singed moving to chase after us.

<So it has!> Amaranth exclaimed as we began to run, except this time on a path almost completely perpendicular to the one that Freya and Abaddon had continued on, it leading two of us in between a pair of longhouses. <But what is our plan now? We cannot lead them on a chase through our den forever.>

<That we definitely can’t,> I replied back to the cat, my mind already working ahead as to what to do next.

I knew if Amaranth and I absolutely had to, we could easily outpace the creatures chasing us, simply blink stepping or Jumping farther and faster than they could follow. The major downside to doing that, however, was that it would leave the creatures running loose in the heart of Aldford, allowing them free rein to attack whatever and whoever they wanted. Past that option, the next one that came to mind was to see if we couldn’t drag the attackers with us until we found enough defenders capable to help us fight them all. But as I considered that potential approach, I realized that the path that Amaranth and I set ourselves on didn’t have anyone nearby, the closest group to us being those defending Aldford’s northern gate, which given their importance in our defense made them a poor choice. The last thing that I wanted to do was to lead a train of twenty-some-odd attackers that they weren’t expecting into their rear ranks and hope that they weren’t too overwhelmed by the attacking orcs to somehow help.

This meant that Amaranth and I had to figure out a way of taking care of them without relying on anyone else.

<The arena,> I answered back after my thoughts finally came to an end, realizing that the place wasn’t too far away from where we currently were. <We can lead them to the arena. The space there is open enough that we can run around without risking being caught, plus there should be a cache there that we can raid for supplies to help us.>

<To help us what? Fight them?> Amaranth queried, his mental voice sounding incredulous as he spoke. <There are too many of them!>

<If we fought them the normal way, you’d be right,> I replied as I rapidly filled in the plan that was building in my mind—one that would specifically allow for us to better take advantage of our speed while wearing down our pursuers. <But I have a different idea in mind that should hopefully even the odds.>

Talking quickly, I filled Amaranth in on my idea as we continued our sprint between the longhouses, while keeping a wary eye on our pursuers. Fortunately, though, it only took the cat a few seconds to grasp my plan, so that when we finally erupted out onto the street again, I was able to cut away sharply from him to the right. The move temporarily put me out of sight of those behind us, giving me the opportunity that I needed to check my speed and cast Jump on myself. From there, I was able to leap straight up onto the roof of the longhouse we’d just passed and take cover before a stream of shadows, spirits, and dervishes rushed past me, none of them so much as glancing my way as they continued to chase Amaranth.

So far, so good, I thought as I counted them all go by, biding my time until I saw the last of the group, a corrupted beetle spirit, burst free of the alley and chase after its companions. It was the second that I saw him pass by me that I leapt, managing to clear the dozen or so feet that separated us before landing practically on top of it with Savagery in hand. Slashing at the creature as I hit the ground, I managed to strike it twice before it even registered that I was there, its frenzied movements coming too late to save it. Easily dodging a lunging bite from the creature, I was able to sweep my sword through the length of its body, causing its form to waver and then finally disperse as I thrust my hand into it, drawing forth a surge of mana to replenish my reserves.

And just like that, one of the pack chasing us was down.

Pushing myself back into a sprint, I then repeated the process once again, managing to chase down another pair of spirits in quick succession, taking advantage of the straggling line that they’d formed in pursuing us with those who moved slower falling towards the rear. It was as I finished off my third victim that I was finally spotted by a quartet of shadows, the lithe creatures breaking off their pursuit of Amaranth to chase after me instead.

<Okay, I’ve been spotted, and I have four chasing me,> I told Amaranth through our link as I turned up a street to flee from the shadows, pacing myself so I was able to stay just ahead of them. <I’m leading them back your way now!>

<Good! I will be ready!> my familiar replied in an eager tone as I abruptly sensed him turn to race between another set of buildings ahead of me.

Trusting that the cat would manage his end of things, I timed my pace so that I crossed the laneway he was rushing down just seconds ahead of his arrival so that when he finally reached its end, he reached it at the same moment the shadows chasing me did. Turning so that I could watch what came next, I saw my familiar burst free from the alleyway just in time to catch the four shadows with a point-blank Flameburst, the fire sweeping over them before they could even react. Then, just as I had a not even half a minute earlier, I sharply turned down the laneway on the opposite side of the longhouse and used my still-active Jump spell to leap effortlessly upwards to its roof, effectively resetting myself to repeat the same tactic again.

Which is exactly what Amaranth and I did over the next few minutes to slowly whittle down the numbers of those pursuing us.

Leaping and weaving through the abandoned streets of Aldford, we took ruthless advantage of our attackers’ singularly focused nature as well as our ability to communicate on the fly to lead them into split-second traps and ambushes. Attacking them with whatever we could muster—be it a blast of magic, a sweeping claw, or a slash of Savagery—they slowly fell, one by one, until only four dervishes remained. By then, however, Amaranth and I had about reached the end of the running that we were capable of, the constructs proving to simply be too fast for us to trap as we had with the other spirits and shadows. All our efforts thus far had resulted in a handful of injuries for us, which combined with my nearly empty mana pool, the two potions I had earlier now a fond memory, meant that it was time to head towards the arena.

<Then I’ll make a run straight for the cache,> I told Amaranth once we had decided that it was time for us to make a stand. <There should be a few totems in there that I can set up to give an advantage—and with luck, hopefully, a few potions too. Do you think you’ll be able to keep them busy until then?>

<For a short while at least,> the cat answered, the fatigue from our non-stop sprinting and fighting over the last few minutes readily evident in his voice. <But any longer than that, and I fear my strength will leave me. These abominations are tireless, and I am coming close to reaching my limits.>

<Then I’ll be sure to move as fast as I can,> I promised as I risked a quick glance behind me, seeing the aforementioned creatures still chasing us, not having slowed down a single step since we’d started. <But if you can’t run anymore, just lead them to me anyway, and we’ll do what we can.>

Receiving a mental growl from my familiar, we then put the last leg of our plan into motion, taking advantage of a sharp turn to once again split up. This time, however, instead of circling back to attack, I ran ahead towards Aldford’s arena, our wild journey through the town having taken us gradually closer. Sprinting through the empty streets unopposed, I easily managed to make my way towards the open clearing, my path taking me directly to the stands where I knew the cache had been placed. Spotting it easily by virtue of it being the only box by the bleachers, I slowed down as I approached, my heart fluttering as I saw that it was already open.

Damn! Looks like I’m not the first one here! I thought as I arrived at the crate suddenly fearing that it would be empty. Fortunately, however, that fear was short-lived as I dropped to one knee in front of it, seeing that while its contents had been strewn about wildly within, it was still fairly well stocked.

All right, phew, it’s not empty! Now let’s see what we have in here to work with, I promptly thought as I started to dig into the container, grabbing whatever I felt Amaranth and I would need for the coming battle. Let’s see here. Okay, we have a couple of healing potions left, always useful, I’ll take both. Then here we have an assortment of battle potions. I guess I can refill my pouch with these. Okay, next thing we have here is a…tenacity totem, sweet! That’ll be helpful! Then right beside that…that’s a tranquility totem. Not quite what I need right now, but those two healing totems right there definitely won’t go wrong. Wait, hang on, is that it?

Ah, crap! I cursed as I finished searching the cache, a grimace coming over my face. Whoever raided this thing before me took all the mana potions and mana totems! That’s going to make things more than a little difficult.

With a loud sigh rushing out of me to echo my disappointment, I didn’t waste any more time pining over the missing supplies, knowing that every second we had would count. Instead, I forced myself back up to my feet with a tenacity and healing totem in hand and rushed to the open arena ring, stopping briefly at one of the thick wooden posts that marked its edge.

<Okay, Amaranth, I’m ready for you here!> I said to the cat as I activated both of the totems, binding its magic to me so that it would only affect Amaranth and I while we were within its range.

<Finally!> my familiar replied with obvious relief in his mental voice. <My paws ache such that I fear they will fall from my body if I—>

My eyes suddenly widened as his voice abruptly cut off mid-speech, a flare of pain shooting through our link before vanishing.

<Amaranth? Amaranth! Are you okay?> I called out, sensing his already fast pace increase even further as it angled itself to rush towards me. <What happened?>

<Carver!> Amaranth replied in a panicked voice. <He is chasing me now! I am fleeing towards you as fast as I can! Be ready!>

<I will be! Just get here safely!> I answered back as another grimace passed over my face, this time accompanied by a surge of anger at the man’s constant presence throughout the battle.

Shit, of course he survived getting hit by the siegebreaker! I thought as I bent down to stake the two totems in my hands just behind the post I’d stopped beside, hoping that the elbow-high wooden pillar would somewhat conceal them from sight. That’s fine though if he wants to come for another fight, then this time we’ll be ready for him. More than ready, in fact.

Feeling the totem’s magic flow into me, I rose from my position and stepped into the arena, feeling the two totems’ energy both strengthen my movements and start to heal the injuries I’d taken on my flight through the town with Amaranth. As I did, I took a second to skim over my combat log to check in on their effects, trying to see if there wasn’t anything else I could do to prepare.

You are affected by a [Totem of Tenacity]!

You gain a temporary +30 bonus to Strength and Agility while within its range.

You are affected by a [Totem of Healing!]

[Totem of Healing] heals you for 350 points of damage.

[Totem of Healing] replenishes you for 150 points of stamina.

[Aldford’s Aura of Magic] replenishes you for 50 mana points!

Okay, so Strength and Agility have been sorted out by the totem, and its effect doesn’t stack with battle potions, I thought as I finished reading the text, taking note of the tree’s more than welcome mana regeneration effect before I promptly dismissing everything from my vision. That means my choice is between Constitution or Intelligence for the coming battle.

Pausing for a second to consider my options, I realized after a second that there was an obvious choice, given that Amaranth and I were about to go toe to toe with not only Carver but four dervishes as well.

We’re going to need each and every single hit point that we can scrounge up, especially in the early moments of the battle, I mused as I palmed a pair of the Constitution battle potions as well as a health potion that I’d taken from the cache, readying the latter to feed to Amaranth as soon as he arrived.

Then with that done, there was nothing left for me to do but wait for everyone to arrive, the next few seconds passing rapidly as I sensed Amaranth rapidly close in on my position, eventually appearing in the distance as an azure blur. Continuing to sprint as fast as his legs would take him, the cat ate up the remainder of the distance separating us in seconds before practically collapsing on the sandy arena ground in front of me. Hearing him breathing heavily, I didn’t waste a second in bending down towards him as he crouched low on all fours, offering him the healing potion first.

“Drink this, it’ll make you feel better,” I said to the cat, who readily obliged without so much as an ear flick in my direction. Once he was done with the healing potion, I offered him the battle potion without pause, already spotting fast-moving figures appear in the distance rushing towards us. “And this one too. Something tells me we’ll need it.”

<Ugh, so we will,> Amaranth replied, his breathing instantly evening out as he finished drinking the second vial and its magic began to take effect. <Would be that it tasted better than day-old carrion left in the sun, however.>

<I’ll be sure to pass that note onto Constantine for the next batch he brews,> I told the cat, dropping the empty vial to the ground as I rose to my feet, quickly moving to drink my own, managing to gulp down the viscous liquid in a single swallow and discovering that it tasted exactly as Amaranth had described. But despite the potion’s foul taste, I found myself barely even registering it, or how my aches and pains abruptly vanished, as I focused my attention directly on the charging group of figures ahead, my eye landing on the familiar form of Carver at its head. Still appearing as the dark, corruption-covered wendigo that he’d transformed into earlier, I noticed that the man looked slightly worse for wear since the last time I’d seen him.

Maybe I did end up trapping him with my spell just before the siegebreaker hit, I thought as I saw him and the other dervishes slow in their approach towards us, Carver glancing around suspiciously as he inspected the arena’s grounds. The opportunity gave me a chance to see that one of Carver’s antlers had been broken at its tip and that his body itself seemed somewhat ragged in appearance as if patches of it were thinner in some places than others. But that brief delay to ensure that we were alone only lasted for a handful of seconds, Carver and the group of constructs all lunging forward at the same time, sharing some unspoken signal amongst them as a sign to attack.

“Well, this seems a fitting place as any for our final battle, Lyrian!” Carver exclaimed as he charged towards me, the dervishes fanning out on either side of him. “Too bad the stands are all empty, though! This would only be better with an audience!”

“Oh, we have an audience, Carver,” I called back as Amaranth and I rushed to meet the group, quickly exchanging a plan of attack between one another through our link. “One that’s filled with millions of people that will be watching every move you make here today.”

Rapidly building speed as I spoke, it was with those words in the air that Amaranth and I abruptly triggered Blink Strike as we charged towards Carver and the constructs, the two of us leaping into the air as we did so. With my familiar leading the way as we shifted places, the next thing I knew as my vision snapped back into focus was the cat slamming into the two dervishes to the left of Carver, hitting them both in a flying tackle. Armed with a potent momentum and his not insubstantial weight behind him, the impact allowed Amaranth to completely knock the two constructs off their feet, sending them crashing onto their backs on the sandy arena ground.

And thereby putting them in prime position for my arrival.

Landing in front of the dervish, I had enough time to see Carver and the other constructs rush by us as I lunged forward to attack the fallen creature, the momentum of their reckless charge towards us carrying them past us in the blink of an eye. This gave Amaranth and I a much-needed opportunity to slash, stab, and bite at our two victims before they recovered from their prone position, landing a flurry of attacks on them while dodging their flailing attempts to retaliate. But that advantage was all too fleeting, as, after a loud curse from Carver as he realized what we’d done, he and his entourage wheeled to turn back towards us, shedding the momentum of their charge. Which, in turn, was my cue to move once again.

Breaking away from the dervish that I’d chosen to attack, I rushed to meet Carver’s advance, this time tapping into Alacrity for a pair of seconds to give me a much-needed boost of speed. But much like the last time, I didn’t want to completely close with the group, at least not immediately. So instead, right before I entered melee range, I slowed, stretching out my hand and sending a timely blast of freezing cold towards them, catching all three within its effects. It was then, once they were all covered in a layer of frost, that I darted in close, slashing out with Savagery. But as I did, I focused my attention on the dervishes next to Carver, going as far as to dodge around him completely in favor of putting the constructs between us.

“Argh! Why do you keep running?” Carver barked in sudden frustration as I slashed at the two frost-covered dervishes, the cold from my spell slowing their movements enough that I was able to hit them both twice while running around them. “Stand still and fight!”

“You know, Carver, I think the better question right now is ‘why are you chasing me so hard?’” I replied, feeling my now ravenous hunger sate itself as I struck each construct, draining a surge of both mana and corruption from them with each strike. Between the rapid castings of Blink Strike, Alacrity, and Cone of Cold, I’d managed to burn through almost the entirety of what little remained of my mana pool, leaving me with barely more than a couple dozen points left. “You could be anywhere else in this battle right now—in fact, I’m certain you should be—but you’re not. You’re here. Why is that?”

“Because after what you did in front of him, I have to be!” Carver answered with a snarl, both he and the constructs whirling to chase me as I danced around behind them.

“Is that so?” I asked, surprised at the man’s candor to what I had intended to be a simple taunt as I continued to run, forcing the trio to turn after me. Easily dodging their slow-moving attempts to catch me, I decided to take the opportunity that Carver had given me, and I replied to him another, harder question. “So what’s the deal? You need to kill me yourself or big orc daddy Zhul will kick you out of his horde instead?”

Landing with precision, this time all my words earned from the man was an angry growl as he tried to force his way past the dervishes to attack me, his large form and their singularly focused nature causing them both to get in one another’s way. It wasn’t until Carver resorted to physically shoving one of the constructs out his way, enough so that he knocked it down, that he was finally able to close towards me, slashing out with his long claw-tipped arms. Surprised by his reckless attack, I was only able to block one of his claws with Savagery, the other catching me square in the shoulder with enough force to pierce through my armor. Reeling from the blow with a loud hiss, I threw myself backward to pull free of his talons before once again moving my feet as fast as I could to keep both Carver and the still-standing dervish from pinning me in place. But with their attention so fixated on me as they gave chase, they completely abandoned the construct that Carver had knocked down in his haste to get to me, allowing Amaranth the perfect opportunity to pounce on it while it was completely defenseless and alone.

Having broken away from the other two dervishes that we’d originally attacked when the opportunity had presented itself, I managed to catch sight of my familiar leaping onto the construct as it tried to rise before I was forced to turn away and deflect a slashing blade-arm. That lack of sight, however, didn’t prevent me from hearing a loud crunch and a truncated wail that soon followed Amaranth’s shift in focus, followed by a loud curse escaping from Carver as he twisted his head in the direction of the sound.

“Ugh, damn it!” he exclaimed, his earlier frustration only continuing to build as he snapped his head back towards me and snarled a familiar word of power, slashing one of his claws in the process.

Already knowing what to expect the second that I heard him speak, I saw my surroundings flare with magic as the outline of a dark cloud suddenly appeared on top of me, followed by the sickening touch of corruption. Yet much like the other spells that both he and Zhul had cast on me, the supernatural darkness had no effect in blinding me, True Sight once again giving me perfectly clear sight through it. But as I soon discovered in the seconds that followed afterward, I hadn’t been the target for the spell.

Amaranth had been.

Feeling my heart skip a beat as I saw all three of the constructs turn to rush towards my familiar, who had frozen the second the darkness had appeared, I immediately moved to shift from my rapid flight to reuniting with Amaranth. Only to run square into Carver the first moment that I tried to.

“I figured that would finally get your attention,” Carver growled as he slid in front of me, using both his body and his claws to cut off my path towards Amaranth. “All of this running around is starting to get on my nerves.”

“Then you should have sent all those dervishes against me,” I replied to the man as I blocked one of his attacking claws, the brief contact enough for me to draw another surge of mana from him. “Because if I can outrun the three of you at the same time, then I can outrun you by yourself easily.”

To demonstrate the point, it was as my words ended that I activated Alacrity and used the edge in speed it granted me to deke Carver out not once, nor twice, but three times as I feinted left, right, and left again in quick succession. The rapid series of movements ended up completely unraveling the shaman and left him completely flat-footed for when I finally made my move and threw myself into a roll directly between his widespread legs. While Carver had gained much after transformation with regards to speed, it was still far from enough to match what I was capable of, thanks largely in part to the essences I’d melded to my armor and the extra edge granted to me by the nearby tenacity totem. That advantage had me on the other side of the man in the blink of an eye and sprinting towards Amaranth, shouting a warning to him in the process.

<Run to your left!> I warned as I watched him slowly back away from the oncoming dervishes, able to hear but not see where they were coming from. <The arena edge is right beside you! You can follow it straight to me!>

Reacting instantly to my words, Amaranth didn’t hesitate to launch into motion, the cat leaping away from the dervishes descending upon him just in time to avoid being sliced to pieces. From there, he easily found the border of the arena, the sand of the fighting ring meeting the hard dirt beyond. With us both running towards one another, it was only a matter of seconds from there before we were reunited, but at the cost of the two of us finally becoming pinned in place as I rushed headlong into the constructs chasing Amaranth. Slashing out with Savagery as I charged into them, I managed to land two punishing cuts on the closest dervish pursuing my familiar, the second attack drawing a deep groove across its skull, even going as far as to shatter one of its empty eye sockets. That was all that I was able to offer, however, before I was forced to defend against an avalanche of blade-arms descending upon me, with even my enhanced speed unable to help me block or deflect them all.

The result was an explosion of pain all across my body as I was forced to rely on my armor to protect me, some of the attacks skipping off the hard metal, leaving only bruises behind, while others found a way through and cut into the flesh beneath. Staggering from the multitude of blows, it was only because of the battle potion running through my veins and the immediate healing magic provided by the totem I’d emplaced that I was able to stay standing after weathering the initial onslaught. Fortunately, the exchange rapidly improved in the seconds that followed as Amaranth came to my aid, the cat overcoming his blindness by drawing on my senses through our mental link. Clawing at one of the dervishes and sending it skittering backward, his presence immediately eased the pressure on me just enough so that I was able to twist in the direction of Carver, hearing him running across the sandy arena ground towards us.

Turning just in time before he arrived, I was able to burn through a portion of the mana I’d drained to cast a Concussive Blast in his direction, the spell blunting his momentum enough that he didn’t simply charge straight through Amaranth and me. That burst of magic, while slowing him, did nothing to prevent him from still lashing out at me as he closed into melee range, his claws scything through the air to attack. While not having quite followed the plan that he likely intended when he’d first dropped the corrupting cloud on Amaranth, the result had eventually turned out to be exactly what he’d wanted, with the two of us finally surrounded by him and the dervishes.

Cut off with no avenue of escape to resume our attempt at a running battle, we were then forced to desperately fight on top of one another, the next several seconds passing in a blur of adrenaline and pain. It was only when Carver’s spell finally ended and Amaranth regained his sight that everything snapped back into focus, my familiar not wasting a second in sending a wave of fire out towards a pair of the dervishes.

<One of the abominations finally weakens!> I heard the cat’s voice exclaim as his Flameburst seared his targets and caused one of them—the one that I had originally struck earlier in the battle with the broken eye socket—to falter, a keening wail rising up from the spirit animating the construct. <Strike at it with fury, and slay it while we can!>

Sensing an opportunity, I twisted towards the injured creature and followed up with my own Flameburst, burning both it and its partner a second time, prompting the construct to also begin to wail, signaling that it too was near death. Realizing that this was a chance to change the pace of the battle in our favor, I didn’t hesitate in following up with a second attack, this one in the form a powerful two-handed, Shocking Touch-charged strike against the already damaged dervish’s skull. Connecting solidly, that blow was all that was needed to finally shatter the magic that granted the bone its supernatural resilience, thereby allowing Savagery to slice straight through it in a spray of electricity. Then, like a puppet with its strings cut, the now rapidly disintegrating dervish promptly fell to the ground in a heap, marking one less creature for Amaranth and me to worry about.

At least until we turned our attention back towards Carver, who as we soon discovered had remained far from idle during Amaranth’s and my assault on the constructs.

“You are wasting your time, Lyrian!” he shouted as I turned back towards him, my heart instantly dropping the instant he came into view. Or rather when he and another quartet of shades came into view, the shaman having summoned them in the few seconds while our attention had been fixated on the constructs. “Nothing you do here will change anything. This town, as well as you and all the others you’ve pulled here, are done for. You might as well as give up and save yourself the struggle.”

“That’s what you think, Carver,” I replied as I once again fought down a surge of ravenous hunger, the two spells that I’d used in quick succession having nearly completely drained me dry of everything that I’d managed to absorb over the last round of fighting. “But from where I’m standing, we have you all exactly where we want you to be.”

“Then you’re all fools,” he growled as he and the shades all lunged forward at once, forcing Amaranth and me to once again weather another storm of claws that descended upon us. But this time, however, there was nothing that either of us could do to break their assault, there being simply too many attackers for us to do anything about.

<I…I cannot stand against this much longer,> Amaranth said to me in an exhausted voice as we fought, the battle so far having taken its toll on him far beyond what even the still-undiscovered healing totem could restore. <I can feel their tainted magic sapping my strength with every blow they land. Soon I will barely be able to stand, let alone fight.>

<I know. Me too,> I replied as I did my best to defend against too many claws slashing out towards my body, let alone find a way to counterattack against them. Despite my earlier bravado towards Carver, there was little doubt in my mind that unless Amaranth and I did something to even the odds that we faced, and soon, that we would inevitably succumb to the weight of our attackers.

But what can we do? I asked myself as I scrambled to come up with a solution, mindful of the slow weariness that was entering my body—one that the half-spent battle potion still coursing through me wasn’t able to take the edge off. I knew that once the potion wore off, Amaranth’s and my situation would only worsen further as exhaustion took its toll. Which makes trying to run again a bad option. We’d barely be able to make it anywhere before we were gasping for breath. We need to do something here that’ll buy us time and let the healing totem do its work. But, what exactly? Both of us are practically out of mana, and we won’t last long enough for me to drain enough to do something with…or will we?

My thoughts paused for a second as I suddenly recalled the first time that I’d fought Carver after he ambushed us, realizing that there perhaps was something that I could do to possibly give Amaranth and me a fighting chance. Or if failing that, then at the very least possibly deny Carver whatever it was that Zhul demanded from him in order to keep his place amongst the orcs.

It’s a long shot, though. A Hail Mary that might not even work, I thought as I seriously considered the option, my eye glancing over towards the aforementioned man and noticing once again that his form looked to be somehow thinner than before as if it were slowly wearing out. But then at the same time, it very well might.

Realizing that everything would come down to what happened next, I steeled myself for what I knew I had to do, sending a quick warning to Amaranth explaining my intentions.

<You cannot be serious!> he replied incredulously the second I finished speaking. <You recall what happened before?>

<I do,> I assured, having expected a little bit of resistance from the cat. <Which is why if this goes wrong, I want you to run and regroup with me back at the town hall. Can you do that for me?>

<I-I…I can,> he promised in a shaky voice.

<Good,> I said as I considered the next step in my desperate plan. <Now, I think at best, I’ll be able to take care of Carver and his shades. Can I leave the two abominations to you?>

<Certainly,> the cat replied, a hint of confidence flowing through our link as he spoke. <They are injured and weary from our battle thus far. They will not be able to stand up to my fury.>

<Perfect,> I said, feeling relieved that I wouldn’t have to worry about dealing with the creatures. <Let’s buy ourselves a little bit of space before we kick things off…>

Having sensed it finishing its recharging cycle moments earlier, I turned my attention towards the Ring of Force on my left hand, once again calling on its power. Feeling it build rapidly in my fist, I lashed out towards Carver and his shades with it, sweeping my hand in an arc before me. The motion promptly sent out a wave of energy towards them, violently shoving them all back. In the case of the shades, the ring’s effect was enough to throw them nearly six feet away from us, their ethereal forms more vulnerable to its magic. Carver, on the other hand, was less affected, the blast only sending him staggering backward half as far. Yet that short distance and reprieve from their combined attacks bought me all the time Alacrity needed to burn through the remainder of my mana pool.

Here goes nothing, I thought as I mentally braced myself, feeling my hunger roil inside me as I purposefully pushed myself over the edge before the tree’s natural aura of magic could restore my mana, seeing a pair of warnings flash across my vision.

You have run out of Mana!

You are affected by [Ætherial Hunger]!

Welling up from within as if it were a living creature, the primal desire to sate myself slammed to my mind, the ravenous emotion threatening to overwhelm me as it had before. But this time, I was ready for the all-consuming need to devour everything, just barely managing to hang on to a piece of myself before my vision finished taking on an azure hue, and the hunger took over my body. Feeling like an animal awakening from a deep slumber, it only took a second for me to see something bright appear in the center of my vision and for me to instinctively lunge towards it with an explosion of speed, crossing the distance separating us in a heartbeat. As I did, I managed to flinch in surprise at my explosive movement at the same time that my hand raked itself across the center of its body, clawing deep into the hard surface that it met.

And tearing it free.

Letting out a triumphant growl at my success, I felt a surge of much-needed power flow into me from my strike, causing me to lash out once again at my target, this time with my other hand. But as the limb appeared before me, a part of me couldn’t help but notice that my other hand’s claw was different than the one I’d struck first with, its shape appearing longer and thinner than the other. Despite that, however, I saw that it performed even better than my smaller claw as I struck, its longer length allowing me to drag it across the entire length of the glowing figure and send another, this time even larger, swell of energy rushing into my body. But with those two strikes, I saw that the brightly lit azure shape was beginning to move, shrinking away from me as it extended a set of its own claws to threaten me. Recognizing the things for what they were instantly, I felt a spike of anger flow through me at their sight, instinct demanding for me to lash out at them. Reaching for them before they could reach me, I brought my long claw to slice at the offending limbs, catching one of them with all the strength that I had to bear and sheering through their tips.

A loud shout that I couldn’t quite understand filled my ears as the glowing figure abruptly shrank away from me, pulling its other claw back before I could also strike against it. As it did, other glowing figures suddenly appeared on either side of it, their shapes not as bright as the larger one but enough to still hold my interest, especially when I saw that they all had claws too and were rushing towards me. It was then with barely a second’s hesitation that I threw myself towards them with the same speed that I had at the larger figure, using my longer claw to slash at one of them before they could reach me. Sweeping through the air, the claw passed through the smaller shape without any resistance, its brightness dropping drastically as another soothing surge of power flowed into me. But that single strike was all that I was able to manage before the other glowing figures fell upon me, their claws reaching out towards me.

It was difficult to make out what happened next as my vision then thrashed around faster than I could follow, the glowing figures appearing so close that they blocked out my ability to focus on any one of them at a time. But that confusion lasted briefly, until the brightness started to fade away, the glowing figures vanishing one by one as I swept my claws through them, the ravenous hunger that dominated my thoughts slowly beginning to fade. Feeling almost sated when the last of the figures disappeared, I had just enough time for my mind to begin to reawaken, the little piece of myself that I’d managed to keep intact from the hunger’s grasp reaching back out to take control.

Which was right when something hit me with enough force to send me sailing off my feet.

Reeling from the unexpected burst of pain that broke through the fading hunger as I landed on the ground, it took a second for me to realize what had happened—something had managed to injure me. The thought caused one part of my mind, the primal part, to immediately react to the sensation with sheer animalistic rage, while the other, the part that had just reawakened saw it as a chance to regain control once again.

Get up! I shouted at myself mentally as I fought to force my body to stand, feeling the hunger instantly rebel at my attempt to do so, snarling at me from within at my attempt to interfere, a complicated storm of emotions surging through me. Bracing myself as the torrent of alien thoughts slammed into me, I felt myself be nearly swept away once again, barely managing to hang on. As I did, I found myself falling into the same sort of mental trance that I had when I essence melded, allowing the emotions to wash over me without fully finding purchase. This allowed me to get a better sense of the maelstrom that I’d found myself in and to try to redirect it in a way that I could control.

I know you’re hurt and hungry, I mentally sent to the storm that raged around me, feeling it twist and snarl in response to my words. But I can help. Let me help. We don’t have time to fight one another. If we do, we will die.

I repeated those words in my head as quickly as I could as I continued to fight for control, losing all sense of time not only outside of me but within as well, the litany I forced myself to recite my sole focus. At first, as I spoke, the hunger did nothing to react to me, continuing to twist with anger and stubbornness. But after what felt like an age, I felt it slowly begin to relent, the primal emotion slowly beginning to release its hold on me, allowing me a chance to regain the control so desperately sought. Grasping onto it like a drowning man, the next thing I knew, I could finally feel my body once again as I found myself lying on my back on the sandy arena ground with both agony and ravenous hunger coursing through me. Sucking in a deep breath as the twin sensations slammed into me, I was almost overwhelmed by them. It was only because of the sudden appearance of the large glowing figure above me that I was able to focus past their near-crippling effects and dodge the claw that abruptly shot out towards me.

Turning my head just in time, I felt the claw impact the dirt beside it, allowing me a chance to rake my free hand along the length of the forearm it was attached to, clawing through a layer of something hard. Watching the figure recoil with a shout of pain in response to my attack, I didn’t waste a second to leap to my feet, lashing out towards it as I rose with the longer claw that was my other hand.

My sword, I said, correcting myself as I felt the hunger’s animalistic thoughts still filter occasionally over my own. That’s my sword, not my claw.

Feeling my mind continue to clear as I regained my feet, I threw myself at the glowing form, slashing out at it with both my sword and hand, attacking with all the strength and ferocity that I could bring to bear. Lasting for a handful of seconds, I rained down every blow that I could muster on the figure, dodging around its feeble, if even timid attempts to strike at me. It was only when I felt the hunger fueling my frenzy from within abruptly fade that I came to a stop, its absence casting my azure vision to return to normal and for the exhaustion that it had helped mask to wash over me.

“Ugh,” I grunted, unable to help but fall to one knee, Amaranth’s sudden presence at my side catching me under one arm before I could land on my face as I abruptly found myself short of breath with my heart hammering wildly in my chest. Panting heavily, it took me a second to process everything that had happened while I’d been in the hunger’s grip, the warm pulse of the nearby healing totem washing through me, helping my mind regain its focus and remember where I was and what I had been doing.

Carver, I thought, my head snapping up and turning towards where I’d last seen the large glowing figure that I’d fought against. Taking only a second to spot him, my eyes widened as they landed on the also kneeling form of the orc adventurer a dozen or so paces away from me, the man breathing as heavily as I was with both hands planted against the ground for support. But where the last time I had seen him in his corrupted wendigo-like form, he was now almost back to his normal state, the black tar that had covered him slowly dripping off his body and soaking into the sand beneath.

“N-no, not…like this,” I heard him whisper as he shook his head, his voice sounding dazed and weak to my ears. Pounding the ground as he repeated himself once again, Carver visibly strained to push himself back up to his feet but succeeded only in shifting upright, enough for his eyes to reach mine. “You. What…are you? How could you even…”

“Win?” I asked the man as he trailed off, using the opportunity to push myself back to my feet with Amaranth’s help, my legs shaking unsteadily as I rose.

“No.” Carver hissed, his face abruptly tightening into an angry scowl as he glared back at me with pure hatred, the man once again attempting to rise to his feet. This time, he was able to muster the strength to stand, forcing himself up with what looked like sheer force of will alone. “Y-you haven’t won anything. You can’t win anything. Today…today is my victory. A-and the last day that I need to deal with you.”

“No, Carver, it isn’t,” I replied as I watched the man rise, feeling my breathing start to even out more and more with every second that passed. “This is the last day that I need to deal with you. Face it. You’ve lost. You can barely even stand, let alone fight.”

“Th-that’s what you think,” the man growled back at me as he swayed unsteadily on his feet, one of his hands rising up towards me, a flare of dark magic beginning to build in its palm. “B-but I’m just getting s—”

Carver’s words abruptly cut off as the world suddenly blurred, everything around me turning into a wild spray of colors for a single instant before snapping back into focus, putting the man directly ahead of me. Eyes widening in shock at my appearance, I saw him flinch as Savagery swept out in an upwards arc towards him, his free hand instinctively reacting to protect what looked to be a killing blow to his throat. Yet as the blade sang through the air towards him, I shifted its trajectory ever so slightly so that it caught his outstretched arm instead, the weapon’s razor-sharp edge biting deep into the flesh.

And severing it completely.

Hearing a scream fill the air as the sword finished its journey, I stepped out of the way just in time to avoid Carver as he fell to his knees once again, this time clutching at the stump of his left arm. Overwhelmed by the injury, the man had no chance to react to my follow-up attack until after it had landed and sealed his fate for good. But that attack wasn’t with Savagery, the sword, in fact, falling from my hands as I reached into my inventory for something infinitely deadlier, something that I knew would end the orc adventurer as a threat for good.

So it was then with the loud click of an iron clasp locking that our battle came to an end as I closed the siphon collar around Carver’s throat, its magic activating itself with a dull flash of crimson light.

“W-what? …” the orc exclaimed in a pained voice the instant that the magic vanished, his hand shooting up to grab at the shackle. “N-no! No, no, no! Where did you get this? You can’t have this!”

“You know exactly where I got it from, Carver,” I replied back to the man, feeling a sudden, overwhelming surge of relief and triumph rush into me as I saw the man begin to panic, spinning towards me as he tried to desperately tear the collar free. “And I think it suits you perfectly. It’s about time that you’ve paid for everything that you’ve done to us.”

“No, this can’t be happening,” he said weakly, the remainder of the corruption that still clung to his body starting to wash free of him as if it were water. “After everything that I’ve done. After everything that I’ve sacrificed, it can’t end like this…it can’t. It can’t…”

“It has,” I told the increasingly defeated-sounding man as I bent to pick up Savagery from where I had dropped it, my mind already starting to think ahead to what I would have to do next. I may have succeeded in defeating Carver, but that meant little in the grand scheme of the battle that still raged all throughout Aldford.

I have to get him somewhere where he can’t escape or be rescued, I noted as I considered my next steps, the single thought all that I was able to form as I abruptly heard a triumphant fanfare unlike any other that I’d heard before echo in my ears. Eyes widening at the noise, I only had a second to realize what was happening before two lines of golden text flowed into my vision.

You have completed your class challenge: The Path of Balance!

Please confirm if you wish to follow this path and progress to level 30.

I…I did it, I thought as I read through the list, feeling my heart leap at the sight. That battle counted for my class challenge. If I want to, I can choose an advanced class now.

But before my curiosity could get the better of me and I started to dig into my character sheet, I felt a pulse of alarm shoot through my link with Amaranth a second before a voice called out to me.

“You beat him.” I heard it say as we whirled in its direction, only to find no one other than Hido and a dozen other Dread Crew standing at the arena’s edge, all of them looking on towards me with wide eyes.

“You beat Carver.”

Chapter 71

I felt my body freeze as I looked out towards the growing mass of Dread Crew adventurers that were rapidly arriving at the arena’s edge, a part of my mind realizing that it had to be all of them, or if not, close enough as to make no difference. Regardless, it was a force larger than anything that I could ever hope to stand against, the realization making my earlier victory turn to ash in my mouth. Yet as I met the eyes staring back at me, I was surprised to see no hostility, at least none that was directed towards me.

“I did,” I eventually replied to the man after I found my voice in light of all the people that had appeared. “Is that going to be a problem?”

“Y-you, better believe it’s going to be a p-problem,” Carver replied from beside me, regaining some of his earlier defiance with the other adventurers’ arrival. So much so that he fell over in his haste to scramble towards them and faceplanting into the sand. “H-Hido, w-what are y-you waiting—”

“No, Lyrian,” the elf answered, his face hardening with resolve as he completely ignored the orc’s stuttering voice. “I don’t think it’ll be a problem at all. In fact, I think it makes things much easier for all of us. That is, assuming that your offer is still open?”

“My…offer?” I replied, completely taken aback for the split second that it took me to realize what Hido was talking about, the dread that I’d suddenly been feeling a second earlier, giving way to hope. “Yes, of course, it is.”

“A-an offer? What offer?” Carver demanded, the man sensing that something was amiss. “W-why are you all still standing—”

“That’s good. Great even,” Hido said, interrupting once again as a wave of relief visibly passed through not only him but all of the nearby adventurers. “Then, on behalf of the Dread Crew, I would like to formally surrender with the request that you please send us as far away as possible from here. In exchange, we’ll do and tell you everything you need to know about what we’ve done and what we know about the orcs. We’re done fighting you all in this useless, wasteful war that we’ve been dragged into.”

“And so are we,” I replied, just managing to get the words out before a bright silver box suddenly appeared in my vision, formalizing the elf’s words.

War Quest Update! Aldford vs. The Orc Tribes & The Dread Crew

Hido, the leader of the Dread Crew, has offered you his faction’s unconditional surrender.

Do you wish to accept?

“Wait, what?” I heard Carver bark a second after the box appeared, the man struggling clumsily to push himself back into a seated position, clearly unused to doing so with a single arm. “You can’t surrender! You’re not the one in charge! I am!”

“No, Carver, you’re not. Not anymore,” the elf stated in a flat tone, his eyes moving for the first time to acknowledge the prone man. “We’re done with you ignoring us and treating us all like garbage despite everything that we’ve done. We’re leaving. All of us.”

“You can’t leave! Where are you going to go?” Carver spat, finally managing to push himself upwards until he was sitting. “You came to me because no one else would take you!”

“We will,” I said as the silver box faded away from my vision, my words breaking the exchange between the pair and causing them both to look towards me. “I accept your surrender. This war has gone on more than long enough. Though with that said, if it’s not too much trouble to ask, we could use a little help with, well, you know…”

I gestured vaguely towards the sounds of battle all around us as I trailed off.

“It’s definitely not too much trouble,” Hido replied with a shake of his head. “In fact, I think that’s the least we can all do to show how serious we are about this. Not to mention we’ll get a little payback of our own. Life with the orcs hasn’t been exactly…pleasant.”

“I imagine not,” I said, my attention turning towards Carver who looked completely stunned by the mass defection of what until a few minutes ago had been his people, so much so that he had nothing to say, his mouth hanging open limply. “But speaking of the orcs, I don’t suppose you have anything to share about Zhul’s battle plan that could help us out? Like if he has any more surprises in store for us?”

“Uh, well, I really wish I could, but no,” Hido answered, suddenly looking a little anxious that he didn’t have a better response to offer. “At least not more than you’ve likely figured out by now. We’ve been kept out of the loop of all the planning since…well, since the beginning. It’s how he kept us in line.”

“I understand,” I replied without a hint of disappointment in my voice, not having truly expected anything earthshattering from the man this far into the battle, though his response caused a question to abruptly come to mind. “If that was the case, though, why did you all come here? Were you looking for Carver?”

“We were,” the elf answered with a nod, taking that opportunity to glance towards the man, who was still sitting silently on the ground beside me. “After what you said to me yesterday, I knew that it was time to do something about him, and the battle seemed like the best opportunity. If we were able to somehow get rid of him and send him back for a respawn…”

“Then you’d have a few days to slip away before he got back,” I said, getting an idea of what their plan had been.

“Pretty much,” Hido acknowledged, his eyes turning back towards me. “So what happens now? What do you need from us?”

“Well,” I replied, returning to my earlier thoughts before any of them had appeared as I considered the question. “First thing’s first, we need to regroup with the other defenders and see how the battle’s going. Then after that, we find a way to win this thing.”

“Can we?” Hido immediately asked, looking at me with a wary expression. “Win, that this.”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” I said as I reached out with raid sense to get an idea of where everyone was in the town, finding that a substantial portion of the defenders were all mustering near where I expected the town hall would be. “But at the very least, I’m fairly certain that we won’t lose.”

Saying nothing in response to my choice of words, Hido simply gave me an understanding nod in response, our attention shifting to getting all of us moving, which included a particular recalcitrant Carver. Trying his best to resist, fight, and otherwise be a colossal pain to deal with, we were forced to take a few seconds to bind and gag the man before he was bodily carried along with us as left the arena behind. It was in minutes that followed as I found myself sprinting at the head of the Dread Crew that the surrealness of the moment hit me.

The Dread Crew surrendered, and we caught Carver, I thought, shaking my head as we all sprinted through the empty streets of Aldford. Even in my wildest dreams, I hadn’t expected that we’d be so lucky to actually catch the man, figuring that he would end up fading away somehow when the war truly turned against him.

But as that thought filtered through me, I was forced to remind myself that the battle was far from over, and that victory, be it pyrrhic or otherwise, was still very much in doubt. To that end, I took the opportunity that the brief lull in fighting offered to turn my attention towards my character sheet, looking to make the most of my newly completed class challenge and the path that it had granted me. So it was with that thought that I brought up the notification floating in the corner of my eye and saw the confirmation flash before me.

Congratulations! You have completed your class challenge for the Path of Balance! Should you decide to pursue this path, you will immediately progress to level 30, where you will be able to choose your Advanced Class. Be warned, however. Choosing a path is an irrevocable choice that will define your progression going forward. Be absolutely sure that it is the one that you wish to pursue before you make your selection.

Do you wish to follow [The Path of Balance]?

I absolutely do, I thought without a second’s hesitation as I confirmed the selection, already having had my eye on the particular path in question due to the flexibility that it offered—something that I especially appreciated in light of all the fighting that I had to endure today. It was as soon as I finished selecting my choice that I felt a rush of energy surge into me, instantly banishing every last dreg of pain and exhaustion that I felt, followed by several lines of text appearing in my vision.

Congratulations! You have reached Level 30!

You may now choose an Advanced Class! You will not be able to gain experience until a class is chosen.

You have 10 Attribute Points Unspent!

Your Familiar’s understanding of magic grows—you may teach him two additional spells.

Eyes widening as I skimmed over everything, I didn’t allow myself to get bogged down in the minutia of my decision making, knowing that I only had a couple of minutes, if that, before we arrived at our destination. Instead, I simply opened the newest notification that appeared in my vision with the level gain, its contents giving a similar warning about choosing my advanced class as it had for my path before presenting me with the three options I had available me.

Battle mage, kensai, spellstriker, I mentally recited as I read the names of three classes, perfectly recalling each of their descriptions after having read them over so many times the previous day. But as I hedged over which of them to pick, knowing full well the weight of the decision I was able to make, I suddenly found that my decision was an easy one to make. Selecting my choice with a surge of confidence, I allowed myself a few seconds to soak in the moment before confirming my choice, once again seeing a wave of text flash across my vision.

You have chosen the Spellstriker class as your Advanced Class!

You have learned the ability: [Magical Strike]!

You have gained Mastery over Fire and learned [Fire Strike]!

You have gained Mastery over Frost and learned [Frost Strike]!

You have gained Mastery over Thunder and learned [Thunder Strike]!

And there we have it. I’m a spellstriker now, I thought as I felt my body subtly change in response to the plethora of attribute boosts that accompanied the choice, my muscles hardening, my joints becoming more flexible, and my mind expanding. The barrage of sensations reminded me of one last thing that I had to do before my leveling was complete, causing me to assign the attribute points that I had gained, deciding to put all ten into Agility. With that done, I gave my character sheet one last look, marveling at my new stats.

Lyrian Rastler – Level 30 Spellstriker

Statistics:

HP: 1981/1981

Stamina: 1636/1636

Mana: 2214/2214

Experience to next level: 0/141,200

Attributes:

Strength: 109 (184)

Agility: 119 (220)

Constitution: 95 (96)

Intelligence: 134 (156)

Willpower: 49

Satisfied with what I saw, I dismissed the last of the text and notifications hovering in my vision, finally having finished my ascent to level thirty and looking to see if I had the time to teach Amaranth the new spells that he was able to now learn. Unfortunately, however, the timing worked against us with our short sprint through the town, and I saw that we were rapidly arriving at our destination—a destination that was in the process of being hotly contested with several flares of bright magic flashing out above the buildings ahead of us, signaling the battle that raged ahead.

Approaching the battle from its rear, it only took a handful of seconds more before we closed on it, the street that we were rushing along slowly bending to reveal Aldford’s town square. Having been partially razed since the last time I’d seen it, the entire square was filled with adventurers fighting against a wall of orcs pushing from its west entrance. Gaping at sight, I could see that the defenders were being steadily pushed backward, a stream of them rushing from their respawn point in front of the town hall the instant they reappeared to rejoin the battle.

Shit! We’ve been pushed back this far already? I thought, my earlier elation at leveling fading away in light of what I saw. This is bad. Really bad.

Fortunately, as we all arrived at the large square at a run, we didn’t need to wait long before someone spotted us with several heads turning the instant we appeared, one of them, in particular, shouting out towards me.

“Lyrian!” Constantine exclaimed, the rogue jogging from the front of the town hall towards us, having very clearly just respawned. As he did, his eyes grew wide the second that he spotted Hido and the Dread Crew behind me, followed by his mouth opening in shock. “I-Is that all who I think it is?”

“They definitely are!” I called back to the half-elf as we closed, wincing as I saw that he bore a large stain of corruption across his face and neck. “They’ve all surrendered to us and are willing to help us fight the orcs.”

“That much we saw,” Constantine replied with a shake of his head as he glanced over the Dread Crew behind me, all of whom looked onwards a bit nervously, especially given where we were. “We all got an update that they had surrendered, but we didn’t know exactly what had—hold on, is that Carver? What the hell happened to him?”

“Amaranth and I did,” I answered, turning so that I could see a pair of particularly strong looking adventurers in the process of dragging the aforementioned man to the front. “We need a place to stash him where he won’t be able to escape—preferably with Dyre, if possible.”

“He’s here, defending the town hall,” the rogue said, waving a hand in direction of the building. “I just saw him a second ago when I respawned.”

“Perfect,” I said, giving him and Hido beside me a nod, the latter having remained silent while Constantine and I had traded notes. “Then let’s get him turned over and see if we can’t find a way to help. What’s our plan here anyway? Where are Freya and the others?”

“Somewhere in that mess,” Constantine replied as we all started to move towards the town hall, the man waving a hand at the edge of the fighting that was barely being contained from entering the square. “As for a plan, it’s basically ‘hold on for dear life until the mages finish whatever it is that they’re doing’.”

“And what is it that they are doing?” I asked, having hoped for something a little bit more detailed.

“I wish I could say, Lyr, but I didn’t quite understand when they explained it,” he said somewhat apologetically. “Something about using a mana surge to attack the orcs with. But I don’t know exactly what that means.”

“I do,” I said, paling as I recalled the conversation that I’d had with Halcyon and Donovan several days earlier. “But that’ll only work if the orcs are close to the tree.”

“That’s what they said, yeah,” Constantine agreed, once again vaguely gesturing towards the chaos. “Which as you can see, isn’t exactly a problem at all. Anyway, once they do that, the plan was to push the orcs backward as far as possible—hopefully, all the way out of the town. Mithaniel, Janus, and Riggs are grabbing as many of their people as they can to attack the orcs from the flanks. That is if they haven’t hit them already.”

“Okay, what about Zhul and the siegebreaker?” I asked as I absorbed the plan, which while desperate seemed to already be far enough in motion to have a chance at succeeding. “Where are they and the other heralds?”

“As far as we know? Regrouping around their big monster,” Constantine answered with an uncertain expression. “I didn’t see any of it. But apparently, Janus, Riggs, and a few others were able to keep Zhul busy enough that Hal and the other casters were able to light up the big monster and cripple it before it punched any more holes in the wall. Last we saw, Zhul and his minions were trying to heal it, or so we assume at least.”

“Which explains why it hasn’t overrun the town just yet,” I said, feeling a little relieved that the massive abomination hadn’t been able to run rampant through Aldford while we shored up our defenses.

But that was all that we had time for Constantine to update us on as we finally reached the town hall, easily finding Dyre who was standing near its entrance protectively with his sword drawn. Unceremoniously dropping Carver at his feet as we arrived, we quickly explained the situation to him regarding the Dread Crew’s defection and willingness to aid us in our defense, to which the justicar simply nodded as if he already knew. His only words in response were a stern reminder to Hido and the other Dread Crew about the consequences of breaking their oath of surrender to us, which judging by the way their faces paled as they read something that flashed in their vision was serious indeed. Despite that, however, he soothed their concerns with the assurance that if any of them died in our defense that their souls would resurrect here and not back within the orc’s clutches.

With that last detour finished, there was nothing else for us to do but rush to join the battle in progress, Constantine, Amaranth, and myself leading the Dread Crew into the fight. Sprinting across the square, there was little thought involved in where we charged the orcs’ line, the three of us simply rushing straight into the nearest line of flagging defenders, our arrival immediately reversing their steady retreat. Instead, they found themselves struggling to keep up with us as we cut deep into the orc advance, going as far as to even trample over their front ranks and throwing them into complete disarray.

Slashing, stabbing, and throwing magic as I pressed forward, I didn’t hesitate to make the most of my newfound abilities, alternating between burning, freezing, and shocking the orcs that had the misfortune of finding themselves in my way. Flashing before me as disconnected scenes of combat, I caught sight of one instance of me slashing a flame-coated Savagery across an orc’s shoulder and chest, the wound that the blade left behind with its passage instantly cauterizing itself with blistering heat. In another, I delivered a punishing strike with my fist across a corrupted guardian’s skull, causing it to crack and rime over with a layer of ice, slowing its movements just enough so that a crackling Savagery, arcing with electricity, could plunge into its chest. It wasn’t until I heard Constantine shouting practically in my ear and grabbing my arm to stop me from charging another group of orcs that I was pulled out of my battle frenzy.

“Lyr, wait!” I heard him exclaim as he bodily pulled me backward with enough strength to cause me to stumble, the urgency in his voice causing my head to snap towards him in confusion. “The mages are—”

The man never had a chance to finish his words as the world suddenly turned a bright white, followed immediately behind by a loud thundering blast and a shockwave washing over us less than a second later. Staggering backward from both the impact and the brutal assault on my senses, I barely managed to stay on my feet, thanks largely in part to Constantine’s grip on me. Mercifully, however, as quickly as the magic had appeared, it vanished, having burnt itself out in a single burst of power, leaving me blinking away bright afterimages in my eyes.

Recovering in short order, I moved to charge back into the fray, both not wanting to lose the momentum that I had and not knowing what sort of effect the blast might have had on the orcs. But as I turned my attention back towards where I last recalled seeing them, I found myself staring at an empty swath of burnt-out ground that stretched out several dozen feet, devoid of anything, be it either orcs or the buildings that had once stood there.

“Whoa,” I whispered faintly once I recovered enough to process what I was seeing. “So…that’s what a mana surge looks like.”

“Y-yeah, so it does,” Constantine said in an equally shaky voice, the magical detonation having rendered the entire town square, which until a moment earlier had been filled with the cacophony of battle, eerily silent.

At least until Freya’s voice shattered it.

“Okay, now here’s the chance we’ve been waiting for!” the woman shouted from somewhere on my left, her commanding tone slicing through the shock of the destruction that had been unleashed. “Let’s throw these damn orcs out of our town! Everyone with me! Don’t stop until we reach the walls!”

Rallying instantly at the sound of her words, a cry of voices rose up from among the defenders around us before they all rushed to surge forward, Constantine, Amaranth, Hido, and I all being swept up in the excitement. Charging through the burnt-out length of still-steaming earth, it didn’t take long for us to build up speed, so much so that when a fresh wave of orc invaders finally appeared, they only had a handful of seconds to gape at us before they found themselves overrun. Pushing through them as we used our momentum to our advantage, we managed to fight our way forward until the breach in the palisade started to come into view, the orc ranks finally growing thick enough to force us to slow.

But not stop.

“We have them on their heels!” I shouted to those with me as I lunged into the mass of orcs ahead, fighting with each and every ounce of strength and skill that I could muster as I cut through them. “Keep hitting them as hard as you can! We’re almost there!”

Driving forward on my heels, I didn’t need to say anything else as the Dread Crew following me did exactly that, the bandit adventurers attacking with a before unseen frenzy as they carved into their former allies. The result had the orcs faltering their assault, never even having the chance to form a solid line of battle before they found themselves shoved backward, something that only made their defense more perilous when the casters finally started to catch up to us. Lobbing their spells high over our heads, they began to rain a steady stream of destruction on the tightly-packed orc horde, heedless of the collateral damage that it caused on the town around us. A few of the more magically inclined orcs among the tribes we were fighting attempted to respond to the bombardment with their own, but they found their efforts too weak to make a difference and were quickly overwhelmed in turn.

Over the next few minutes, this allowed us to steadily grind our way even closer to the breach, eventually pushing far enough that I was able to catch sight of the siegebreaker on the other side of it. Appearing badly scarred and burned, the massive creature looked notably the worse for wear since the last time that I’d seen it—likely a result of the damage that Halcyon and others had inflicted upon it in order to cripple it. But as I stared at the half-prone abomination, I saw that it was slowly beginning to stir, with several distant figures leaping off it.

“Heads up! The siegebreaker looks like it’s coming back to life!” I called out the second I saw it start to move, finding myself just behind the front line with an opportunity to call out a warning towards where I knew the mages were.

“We see it too, Lyr!” Caius’s voice called back with barely a second’s delay, a few scattered casts of magic already rising from around where I sensed him. “We’ll do our best to hit it again! But we’re going to have to split our efforts between it and the—ah, shit! Everyone, look out!”

Whirling at the warlock’s warning, I twisted back to look ahead of me just in time to spot several black orbs of magic lancing through the air from the direction of the siegebreaker, their path taking them deep into our ranks. Of them all, one, in particular, seemed to be directed practically on top of us, arriving faster than we could move to escape through the press of bodies around us, leaving us with only a split-second to brace ourselves. A heartbeat later, a wave of corruption was washing over us, causing a chorus of retching cries to shout out all around me.

“Ugh,” I grunted with a wince as the orb detonated itself above me, causing a surge of nausea and pain to shoot through my body. But where I was able to withstand its effects and the substantial dose of corruption that it afflicted me, I immediately saw that Constantine wasn’t so lucky, the rogue dropping to the ground like a stone.

“Shit, Constantine!” I exclaimed as Amaranth and I bent down after the man, seeing him lying completely lifelessly on the ground. Reaching out to shake him, I found myself flinching the second I touched his shoulder, finding his body suddenly freezing cold, nearly to the point of pain. It was only when I fully rolled him onto his back that I realized what had happened, his completely black eyes staring blankly upwards as the corruption across his face twisted and roiled as if it were some sort of living inkblot.

He’s fully corrupted, I realized, my heart fluttering at both the revelation and what it meant for the others around me. There had been easily a dozen of the corrupted orbs that had been thrown into our ranks, which if their potency was anything like the one that had hit me and Constantine meant that there would be several that shared a similar fate as him. It was at that point that the thought sparked another fear, and I glanced up towards Amaranth, seeing that the cat now had more dark lines of corruption throughout his fur than he did of its natural azure color. But before I could say anything to him about it, or do anything to help Constantine, a ripple in the line directly ahead followed by a loud panicked shout stole my attention, forcing me to rise to my feet.

“Heads up! Heralds incoming!” an adventurer’s voice cried out ahead of me as several bodies stepped backward in response to a large dark shape abruptly arriving before them.

In an instant, it cut down a pair of the defenders before me, sending them both falling to the ground, clutching at wicked claw marks across their faces. Reacting as fast as I could to their arrival, I didn’t hesitate in leaping back into the line of battle before the shadow-covered orc could press its advantage, shouting at one of the nearby adventurers to drag Constantine and the others to safety as I did so. Crossing the distance between us in the blink of an eye, I met the herald with a powerful, lightning-coated sweep of Savagery directly across its chest, the shocking blow causing it to rock backward on its heels. Stunned from the attack, it had no answer for the barrage of slashes that I rained down upon it, using that opportunity to go as far as to reach out and grab hold of its wrist with my free hand, seizing it in a powerful grip.

Staggering from my brutal assault, it took nearly a three count before the herald recovered enough to realize that not only was it under attack but that I was actively draining mana from it every second that I held onto it. Flinching away from me, the orc tried to break my grip, only to find themselves yanked off balance as I refused to let go. Blocking and trapping its other arm with Savagery as I drew it towards me, I then twisted its arm with enough force that I felt it crack, causing it to go limp in my grasp. But even despite that, I still held on, continuing to drain the creature until I saw the corrupted shadows armoring it begin to thin and fade, picking that moment to slash my sword across its throat. Falling away from me with a wet gurgle, it was only then that I finally let go of the herald, pressing forward to attack another that was forcing its way through the orc ranks.

Charging it with the same speed and ruthlessness that I had with its companion, it wasn’t long after we clashed before the second herald joined its partner on the ground, bleeding out from a fatal stab wound in its chest. After my battle with Carver, I’d learned that the best way in dealing with them was to rely heavily on my mana draining while supplementing it with as many magical attacks as I could bring to bear. Their resistance to physical attacks was simply too high to make attacking them worthwhile—at least, not beyond overpowering or pinning them in place with sheer strength, which Amaranth was more than happy to help me with, his timely bites and claw swipes keeping the heralds off balance.

It was using that tactic that I eventually attracted the others to me, Freya and Drace finding me through the press of bodies as we pushed forward, while Halcyon and Caius broke away from the other casters to support us. Together, we then spearheaded a push deep into the invaders’ chaotic ranks, cutting through four of the shadow-covered heralds in relatively quick succession, not only regaining the ground that we’d lost from their corrupted bombardment but beginning to drive forward once again. Yet despite our relatively rapid advance, it was still too slow to prevent the siegebreaker from regaining its feet, the massive creature shrugging off what few spells that our casters were able to direct towards it. Lumbering forward with renewed purpose, it was only a matter of seconds afterward that another deafening crunch of shattering wood reached our ears as the abomination bit down on the palisade once again.

“Damn! It’s widening the breach!” Freya exclaimed from beside me as we all watched the siegebreaker tear another section of the now sagging wall free and then throw itself against what remained and causing it to break inwards. “We need to stop it before it widens it too far! The only thing keeping those orcs out is the narrow entrance! They’ll swarm us in no time if they can all get through!”

“I think that might be easier said than done!” I called back to the woman as a ripple in the orcs ranks ahead of me caught my attention, revealing the tip of a familiar shadowlike helmet that was rapidly closing in on us. “Because someone finally decided to come and play!”

Just managing to get the words out before the orcs ahead of us parted, our attention was then stolen away from the siegebreaker by the timely arrival of Zhul and two heralds who burst free of them at a run, fixating on the four of us.

“So I see he failed,” I heard Zhul announce by way of greeting as he swept out towards me with his massive shadowhewn axe, sending it in a vicious in a downward chop.

“Of course he did,” I replied, blocking a claw from one of the heralds while narrowly dodging the axe as it hit the ground beside me with enough force to send dirt spraying through the air. “Did you really expect anything different?”

“No,” Zhul stated as he reversed his grip on the weapon and attacked once more, this time with an upwards slash. “Even with the gifts Riius so generously gave him, he was weak. The horde is stronger without him.”

Unable to help but wince at the orc’s cold statement as I once again evaded his slash, this time by leaping backward out its reach, I found myself at a loss of how to even begin to reply to his words or if there was even a reply worth giving. From the first time that I had met him, Carver had always prided himself on his strength and dominance over others—an attitude that I suddenly understood he shared very closely with the orcs.

It was likely why he fell in with them so easily. He was just like them, I thought as landed back on my heels, pausing long enough for the axe to pass by me before reversing my momentum and lunging straight towards him, a layer of frost forming on Savagery’s edge. But an attitude like that ends up cutting both ways. As Carver just found out.

Darting in faster than Zhul could react, I landed my Frost Strike directly against his chest, or at least as near as I could, my sword once again being stopped just inches away from making contact with his body by a thick layer of shadow. This time, however, I was prepared for the tendrils that rose up to lash out towards me, already moving to dodge directly between Zhul and the herald immediately to his right. In any other situation, it would have been a suicidal path to take, with all that either of them needing to do to stop me, being simply to close ranks with one another.

But in this situation, I wasn’t the only one fighting the trio.

Launching myself forward at the same instant that Freya’s spear flicked out to hook the herald’s leg and pull it off its feet, I was able to dodge past Zhul before his shadowy defense could even finish forming. Hearing a grunt of surprise as I darted past him, I saw the orc warlord try to twist and follow me but abruptly stop as something heavy slammed into him instead, courtesy of Drace filling the spot that I’d just vacated. That left me with an opportunity to attack Zhul from behind the same way that I had with the heralds, reaching out with my hand and thrusting it into the dark cloak of shadows that hung at his back. Feeling it touch something soft as it partially vanished into the darkness, I didn’t hesitate in beginning to drain mana from the orc, gritting my teeth at the corruption that accompanied it.

Yet despite the small trickle of energy that I was able to absorb in the first few seconds, Zhul reacted as if I had branded him with a hot iron, the orc throwing himself sideways past the herald beside him and shoving them out of the way in his haste to break contact. Eyes widening at the warlord’s overt reaction, I had just enough time to see his shadowy cloak writhe with what only could be described as agony in response to my touch, the orc letting out a growl as he turned back to face me, the eyes on his helmet narrowing in anger.

But before he could say anything in response to my attack, both he and herald he’d almost knocked over were suddenly struck by a bolt of lightning and a ball of fire, courtesy of Halcyon and Caius who choose that instant to join our exchange. Slamming into him in quick succession, the twin blast of magic staggered the pair, buying Drace and me the opportunity to close with them before they could do anything else, both of us landing another set of punishing blows on each. In Drace’s case, his blow was directed towards Zhul as he slammed his shield into the warlord’s body, using his strength to force the orc back a step and keep him temporarily occupied. That allowed me to focus on the still off-balance herald in the meantime, closing with it and lashing out with a vicious uppercut across where I expected its jaw to be. As I struck, I used the opportunity the blow gave me to once again trigger what was rapidly becoming my most favorite magical item, my Ring of Force.

Connecting squarely with the shadow-covered orc’s face, my magically charged punch lifted it from the ground and sent it flying half a dozen feet through the air until it vanished amongst the invaders behind Zhul as it fell back to the ground. That left the warlord temporarily alone for the four of us to take advantage of, the other orcs around us far too occupied in attacking the defending adventurers to help, assuming that they even wanted to. With a powerful curse landing from Caius as I rushed to close with Zhul again, I had the chance to see his magic dance along the warlord’s shadowhewn armor, causing pieces of it to turn hazy and insubstantial. It served as a perfect distraction for me to land a Fire Strike directly across the warlord’s helmet, Savagery’s passing leaving a bright orange line of magic clinging to it. Reeling from the blow, it left the warlord open for a crimson ray of energy from Halcyon that shot between Drace and me, the laser-like spell burning a white-hot scar into the shadows armoring him. Yet for all that damage that we managed to inflict, Zhul didn’t fall and instead redoubled his attacks on us as he recovered from the onslaught, the cloak of shadows at his back billowing outwards threateningly.

“Rah! I have had enough of your defiance!” he growled as he swept his axe horizontally in front of him, the slash sending out a wave of cutting shadows that burst from his weapon towards Drace and me, slicing into us both before we could react. “This ends—”

A distant roar accompanied by the loud peal of thunder cut the warlord’s words off before they could finish, the unexpected sound causing everyone, including those of us who had been nervously anticipating it, to flinch.

“You know what, Zhul?” I asked, a surge of incomparable relief shooting through me the instant that I heard the roar. “I think you’re right. It does end now. But not in the way that I imagine you expected.”

Ringing out as if to punctuate my words, another roar—this one even louder and closer than the first—split the air.

“W-what have you done?” Zhul demanded after the primal scream finally ended, his head snapping to the side as bright arcs of lightning flashed out from beyond the walls.

A bright flash of lightning that hadn’t come from the sky above.

“The same thing you tried to do to us,” I replied as I lunged to attack him once again, only to have the warlord retreat back a step in response, his resolve looking suddenly shaken as the orcs around us started to call out in a panic. “Except that your camp doesn’t have walls as high as ours.”

Recoiling from those words as if I’d managed to wound him a second time, Zhul moved to break our engagement. But before he did, the cloak of shadow that had been building behind him launched itself towards Drace and me, temporarily blocking out everything around us. Letting out a surprised shout, the next thing I knew was that I was being cut, bludgeoned, and stabbed by a hundred different tendrils, the sheer weight of their attack forcing me back onto my knees. But as quickly as the shadows had appeared, they vanished, restoring my vision just in time to see Zhul’s back one final time before he plunged into the now panicking sea of orcs and disappeared from sight.

“Lyr, Drace! Are you okay?” I heard Freya shout a second later as both she and Amaranth appeared beside us.

“Oof. I-I’ve been better,” I replied weakly, wincing at the pain that coursed through my body as I rose to my feet, Zhul’s parting attack having taken off nearly half my health in an instant. “Whatever he did at the end there hurt.”

“Yeah…you could say that again,” Drace agreed with a grunt as he too forced himself back upwards, just in time for another deafening roar to echo out in the distance. “But we don’t have time to worry about that now. Zhul is making a break for it, and the cat is out of the bag so to speak. Are we going to try and catch him?”

“If we can,” I replied as I looked at the disorganized mass of orcs ahead of us, some of them still intent on pressing forward into the town, while others turned and tried to escape back out from the breach. “But it’s this part of the plan where things get a little hairy.”

“Oh, something tells me we’re past that point already!” Freya stated with sudden urgency, using her spear to point at something ahead of us. “Look! The siegebreaker!”

Spinning at the woman’s words, Drace and I didn’t need any further prompting to turn towards the abomination, seeing its massive form starting to lean to one side as it abruptly retreated a step from its position halfway through the breach.

“It’s turning!” I said as I saw the creature lift one of its colossal legs as it continued to shift, carelessly bringing it down on top of a group of orcs and crushing them. “The siegebreaker is turning!”

“That means we have to push while we have the chance!” Freya exclaimed eagerly as she took a large step towards the chaotic orc mass. “Come on! Before the orcs can regroup and figure out what they’re doing!”

Not needing a second invitation, Drace, Amaranth, and I fell in line with Freya as she rushed forward, the four of us leading the charge back into the horde ahead. With others joining us as we charged, it wasn’t long before we found ourselves once again in the thick of combat, slashing and stabbing at the orc ranks. But this time, however, instead of standing to meet our charge, the orcs shrank away from us, the panic that had gripped them along with the siegebreaker’s abrupt retreat having stolen away their earlier ferocity. This allowed us to cut through them in a fraction of the time that it had taken before, driving them closer and closer to the breach with every minute that passed. Before long, we even found ourselves linking up with the reinforcements that the Legion and Lionheart guilds had sent to attack the orc flanks during our counterattack.

“They’re breaking!” Mithaniel shouted as the orc line abruptly gave way a few dozen feet away from the breach, the steady flow of invaders that had been rushing into the town reversing itself. “Don’t stop pushing! Force them all out!”

Hearing similar cries rise up in response to the man’s words, we all charged the routing orcs one last time, cutting and pulling dozens of them down before they could escape. We even went as far as to chase them through the breach and into the storm beyond, stopping only when we reached the river’s edge. Had it been any other occasion, we would have pursued the orcs until they reached the safety of their camp, harrying them relentlessly every step of the way. But on this occasion, in particular, the orc camp had already been destroyed by the massive serpentine figure that loomed in the distance, leaving us with no reason to chase them.

“They did it,” Drace whispered from beside me as we all watched the now scattered orc horde flee across the rain-soaked ground ahead.

“That they did,” I agreed, my attention sliding from the routed orcs and towards the distant form of the siegebreaker as a primal roar reverberated through the air.

Spotting it easily, I caught sight of the abomination just in time to see it charge headlong into the gargantuan beast waiting for it, the two creatures slamming into one another with such force that we all heard it, despite the distance separating us. Given the siegebreaker’s size, it was perhaps the best tactic that it had available to it, one that would have certainly overwhelmed a lesser creature, leaving it trampled and crushed beneath its weight.

But Soh-Khan, the broodmother, was no lesser creature.

Almost double the size of the siegebreaker, the colossal behir accepted the abomination’s charge with the surety of a mountain standing up to a storm, shrugging off the impact as if it were a minor inconvenience. Responding in kind to the attack, the behir lashed out with one of its enormous claws, the blow landing hard across the siegebreaker’s face, hitting it with enough force that its head snapped violently to the side, its body staggering behind a second later. From there, the battle between the two titanic creatures devolved into a wild affair of clawing, biting, and wrestling that tore up the countryside surrounding Aldford, each of the pair landing vicious hits on one another.

But as the exchange progressed, it was clear that the siegebreaker was of no real match for the broodmother, especially not after the long battle that it had already endured and the countless injuries that we had piled on top of it. So it was with a pair of powerful strikes that the behir spelled the beginning of the end for the creature, the impact of the first sending it off balance with the second then pushing it over the edge and sending it crashing into the sodden ground. With its rival lying prone before it, the behir reared up with a triumphant roar, its mouth beginning to glow brightly as it did so. Lasting for several seconds, the broodmother ended its cry by bringing its head down and belching forward a stream of lightning directly into the siegebreaker. Holding its position as it poured an untold amount of power into the corrupted creature, it wasn’t long before we saw steam begin to rise from the creature as it was cooked from within, its body eventually going as far as to even catch fire. Yet even then, the behir refused to relent in its attack, continuing until the siegebreaker’s form turned a bright red.

And then exploded.

Spraying outwards in every direction as its form finally gave way, the siegebreaker abruptly vanished in a thunderous flash of noise and white light that sent us all reeling and reaching to clutch our ears.

“Wow,” Freya whispered once the noise finally faded. “I don’t think that the siegebreaker will be bothering us again.”

“It sure doesn’t look like it,” I replied, continuing to stare at the broodmother, hearing it let out a frustrated cry as it looked over the remains of the abomination and discovered that it wasn’t in fact made of meat. “Uh-oh, here’s the moment of truth. Which way is it going to go?”

Trilling angrily as the beast stomped the ground with its front claws, its head rose high to glance in our direction, slowly rising as it took in the full size of the tree above. As it did, it must have been something that it didn’t like, because it abruptly bared its teeth and let out a brief roar before turning away, its attention fixating on something else that I couldn’t make out from this far. Freezing for a split instant as it stared at whatever it spotted, the serpentine creature’s body suddenly coiled before exploding out in a lunge, visibly biting down on something close to the ground.

And then it did it again, and again, and again.

“It’s chasing the orcs,” I realized, feeling yet another wave of relief shoot through me after seeing the behir dive towards the ground time and time again, the gargantuan creature eventually breaking forward to chase down one of the larger clusters of orcs that were fleeing from the battlefield. “Damn, it almost gave me a heart attack. It looked like it was going to come this way for a second there.”

“I guess it figured the orcs were the easier thing to chase,” Freya replied as we all continued to watch the broodmother tear into the remains of the orc horde, chasing them across the rain-soaked plains away from Aldford. “Hopefully, it manages to eat its fill and forgets that we’re here.”

“Hopefully,” I agreed, knowing that the colossal raid boss was likely going to be a problem for the future for us to deal with, especially now that it knew where Aldford was and that there was a source of food here. But, for today, the creature was our salvation, its arrival having sent the orc horde into a panic and causing them to abort their attack at the worse possible moment.

All they had to do was keep attacking, I thought, realizing just how close to defeat that we’d come. Then they could have just overwhelmed us and ate the loss of their camp. They’d have survived, and we’d have lost.

It was a sobering thought that kept me quiet for the next few minutes as we watched the behir continue to rampage after the fleeing orcs, everyone else slowly coming to terms with the battle’s end. It wasn’t until two figures appeared from the battlefield beyond, both leaning on one another as they unsteadily walked towards us that our attention was stolen from the distant sight.

“Oh, there they are!” Freya exclaimed as several voices started to call out at their arrival, my head turning just in time to see the completely drenched and exhausted shapes of both Sierra and Kilgore looking back at us as they approached the river’s edge.

Raising a hand each in greeting to the chorus of cheers that rose up at their appearance, both scouts broke out with wide grins as they glanced over us, their eyes shifting upwards to look at the massive breach in the palisade. Staring onwards for a second until the noise started to die down, Sierra was the first to speak and break the silence that followed afterward.

“So,” she said in a weary voice, “did we win?”

Chapter 72

Tuesday, April 30th, 2047 – 10:00 a.m.

“It was after that battle that we fought you guys at Valor’s Point that I realized something needed to be done,” Hido said to me, clutching his hands together on the table in front of him as he spoke, his eyes unfocused as he stared down. “We were doing everything we could. Had done everything that we could. But it was never enough for Carver. Don’t get me wrong either, because looking back we all had a sense of that earlier, but…”

“It was your breaking point,” I finished, seeing the elf nod in response as I sat across from him in the plainly adorned room that was his cell.

“It was,” he agreed. “After that, I was angry—angrier than I ever had been before. So I decided to do something about it. The result was the feed that you all saw. I wanted to post something that would shock people, maybe even warn them about what was going on here. I honestly don’t know. I was just so mad that I had to do something to get under Carver’s skin the same way that he got under mine.”

“And did it work?” I asked, noticing how Hido’s knuckles had turned white as he spoke, the memory alone enough to enrage him once again.

“Too well,” the elf answered with a shake of his head before exhaling sharply to calm himself. “It took Carver a day to realize that the feed had been released, and it immediately sent him into a rage as he tried to figure out who had posted it. Then barely any time past that, he found out what you all did at Khudazal. That really pushed him over the edge.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I offered to the man, only imagining how it would have been to experience, let alone live in that sort of toxic environment.

“Don’t be,” Hido said with a shrug as if it didn’t matter. “We all made our bed when we chose to follow Carver. Myself most of all when I stabbed you all in the back in the process. That was part of the reason why I didn’t reach out to you all directly. I didn’t think you’d listen to me.”

The elf paused for a second to collect his thoughts, shrugging for a second time as started to speak once more. “But even then, it’s not that I really had much of a chance afterward. Once you guys hit the city, things started to move pretty fast…and well, you know how everything after that turned out.”

“That we do,” I agreed, the memories of those days already starting to feel more than a little surreal to me considering how far we’d come since. “Do you know what ended up happening to Ignis through all that mess afterward? Or any of the other Dread Crew members that are still unaccounted for? Like Roc, Mozter, or any of the others?”

“Only in generalities,” Hido replied in an apologetic tone with a shake of his head. “At least, when it comes to Ignis, Mozter, and a few of the others. Roc and a few others in his group are the only ones I can speak with confidence to, and that’s because he told me they were going to fade away into the fens and desert. Hell, he even invited me to come with him, but at the time, I just wasn’t ready to leave. I still thought that things would change.

“Anyway, though, that’s not what’s important—at least, not beyond them being gone for good,” he added a second afterward. “As for the others…all I can say is that they went—or in Ignis’s case, were sent—north to join the orcs there. Mozter and his group left right after our battle in the Twilight Grove, or at least that’s what Carver told me when I asked. None of us saw them leave or even saw them after the battle, now that I think of it. A few others followed them a short while later.”

“I see,” I replied, giving the man a nod to show that I was still following along. “And what about Ignis? You said he was…sent? What does that mean exactly?”

“That he was due to be punished the orc way,” Hido answered, his voice going a little quiet. “I’m afraid I don’t know exactly what happened to him, but apparently, after your attack, the heralds raided his chambers and found something that made them angry. Like really, really, angry.

“They did?” I asked, suddenly curious at that bit of news, especially given what I’d heard from Carver during the battle. “Do you have any idea what they found to make them so angry?”

“If only,” the elf answered with a shake of his head. “I tried eavesdropping on their conversation with Carver when they told him what they’d discovered, and there was some sort of mention of a curse, one that either once afflicted or still does afflict the orcs. It wasn’t clear the way they spoke of it. But that was about all I heard before I had to make a break for it.”

“Hm, another mystery then,” I said despite very well having an idea of just what curse the orcs had been talking about.

“And one that I am more than happy to leave in your hands,” Hido replied, his gaze moving to look around at the room around us with a visible fondness. “Because I think I’m done with the adventuring life. I’ve had enough of sleeping on the ground and fighting every day just to have food. If at least for the foreseeable future.”

“Oh?” I asked, a little surprised at the adventurer’s words. “Are you thinking of quitting or taking a break from playing?”

“I don’t think I’ll quit but a break for sure,” he replied, sounding a little unsure as he answered, his eyes flicking up to meet mine as he spoke. “And that’ll be after you don’t need me anymore. Don’t worry, I’m not looking to leave you all in the lurch.”

“And we definitely appreciate that,” I said, feeling a little bit of gratitude at that sentiment, even after everything that Hido had done to us in the past. “After the mess that Carver’s made of everything, we could use all the help we can get in figuring out what he, Zhul, and the other orcs were doing.”

“I can only imagine,” Hido said with a sigh before motioning to the wall behind me with his chin. “Speaking of, though, has he said anything?”

“Not even so much as a peep,” I answered, not needing a hint to know who he was referring to. “It looks like he might have up and quit himself. Or, if not, decided to take a break for a while too.”

“Hm,” Hido grunted, his face twisting itself into a scowl for a few seconds before softening. “I’d hate to think that he escaped paying for all the suffering that he put us through, but maybe him quitting is the best thing for everyone. At least, he won’t have the option to hurt anyone else that way.”

“Maybe,” I replied, not completely sure that I agreed with his words. It was one thing for us to finally stop and capture Carver, but to do so and not be able to punish him for what he did to us made our victory feel a little hollow. “In either case, though, we plan to hang onto him for as long as we can before sending him along to wherever the game decides to take him, if for no other reason so that we know where he is.”

“And that’s probably a good idea as anything else,” Hido agreed, our conversation lapsing for a few seconds as we sat in silence. “Anyway, I think that’s about all I have with regards to what we’ve been up to the last while. Is there anything else that you want to know or ask about while you’re here?”

“No, I think that’s enough for today,” I said, the two of us having already been talking for the better part of the morning so far. “I need to make my rounds elsewhere and see if there isn’t anything else that I can think to ask.”

“That’s fair,” the elf said with a nod as I stood up from the table, giving me a goodbye wave. “You know where to find me when you do.”

Bidding the man farewell, I made my way out of the cell and into the prison beyond, the heavy door slamming and locking shut behind me. Nodding at one of the guards on duty, I strode over towards another cell at the far end of the room and stepped up to the single open visor to glance within, spotting the perfectly still form of Carver. Sitting at the edge of the bed as I’d seen him do so every time that I’d looked in, there was nothing to the man that belied an active presence, his body completely unmoving save for the times that it lay down to sleep.

No change at all, I thought as I turned away from the sight, the few seconds of observation telling me everything I needed to know. In the three days since the attack, the man had said nor done nothing, exactly as I’d told Hido just minutes earlier, seemingly having given up after his defeat. We’ll see if he keeps that up though over the next few weeks. He’s not going anywhere fast.

Giving the guard one final wave, I made my way out of the prison and stepped back out into Aldford, squinting as I glared up at the bright sun above me. It had been three days since what we were starting to call the Second Battle for Aldford had ended—three days that had also been accompanied by near non-stop rain, this morning being the first time that the sky had broken since. As a result, none of us were used to seeing the bright orb shining down at us from above, slowly needing to get used to its presence once again.

Something that we’ll have plenty of opportunity for over the next few weeks. We have a lot of work to do just to clean up after the battle, let alone to start rebuilding anything, I thought as I walked through the town, my eyes scanning over the countless signs of damage visible. A pile of debris here, a large scar of magic there, along with a burnt-out or damaged building to round out either. While we may have survived the orc attack, we hadn’t done so unscathed, and Aldford would bear the scars of the ordeal for quite some time yet.

But at least we have the hands to help with that now, I added a few seconds later as my journey had me arriving at the town hall, the sounds of numerous voices in the distance having grown steadily the closer I approached, with Léandre’s, in particular, calling out the moment the square came into sight.

“Okay, I need all those who know which end of a hammer to hold before striking a nail to gather over there,” he said in a loud and commanding tone, the craftsman standing on a large wooden crate amid a throng of people. “And I need those of you asking why you are even holding a hammer if you haven’t measured anything yet to please see Jenkins over there. For you will have the misfortune of supervising the others.”

Chuckling at the man’s words as the crowd around him started to organize themselves appropriately, I quickly cut my way through the square, pausing only to send a wave in both his and Jenkins’s direction, not wanting to distract them or the new arrivals with my presence. Having just arrived this morning from the temporary refuge that we’d established to the south, they were among the first wave of people we’d called up with the intention of using their eager hands to begin to clear and rebuild Aldford. The rest would follow slowly in the days to come, arriving in a controlled fashion as to not overwhelm the town’s already strained infrastructure and the sheer lack of living space that we were now forced to contend with. As it was, the last few days had been an exceptionally cramped affair in just trying to find a dry place to stash all the defenders that had contributed to Aldford’s defense, let alone find a way to accommodate another thousand or so souls.

At least now that the storm’s passed, we can set up tents and other temporary housing closer to Aldford to spread people out, I thought as continued to walk, my mind taking that opportunity to shift towards the expansion plans that had been drawn up by Léandre and Drace while we’d sheltered from the rain. Building off the architect’s earlier ideas, the town’s eastern half was slated to undergo a rapid explosion of growth as it sprawled across the river, eating up as much land as possible that wasn’t suited for farming. It was going to be a tricky process to balance in the coming weeks and months, seeing as said river was the best source of water available to us. Fortunately, I’d managed to escape any and all responsibility in having to deal with that process by assigning it to the aforementioned pair to deal with. The last I’d heard they’d solicited Garr and a few of the other earthspeakers to help with their efforts—something that they were all more than eager to be a part of.

But while I’d managed to pawn that set of responsibilities away on them, in addition to the ones involving managing the actual clearing and reconstruction efforts of the town, there was one responsibility in particular that I hadn’t been able to get anyone to take charge of. Granted, that could have been because it was a responsibility that if it was handled poorly could potentially spell the end of everything and everyone in the town as it tore itself to pieces in a vicious display of destruction that would make our recent battle look like a schoolyard fight between children.

It was the responsibility of dividing the loot.

With a truly colossal amount of spoils to recover from the vanished orc horde, let alone somehow distribute equitably amongst the several hundred defenders, I’d found myself the only person willing to take the task. Or perhaps, more accurately put, the slowest person to load themselves up with other tasks to claim the justification of being “too busy” as a reason not to be burdened with it. Regardless of how it ended up in my hands, however, I’d at least been fortunate to conscript a handful of people to help me with the task, the most critical amongst them being Ritt, the one-armed merchantman the perfect person to run herd on a horde of greedy adventurers. So it was with his voice splitting the air ahead of me that I arrived at the arena, the site having been chosen for its wide-open space and storage capacity for our loot-sorting process.

And for one other reason, in particular.

“That’s a win for Dannelon!” I heard Ritt shout as two figures staggered out from the sandy ring, a chorus of clapping and cheers echoing out along with his words. “And that means he gets the, uh…Belt of Fortitude you two couldn’t agree to split, and you, Kieron, get your pick between anything else on table number one there—or straight coin value instead.”

“Rah, fiiine,” the aforementioned adventurer said with a small note of frustration. “He beat me fair. I’ll take that Longsword of Deadly Wounds there instead.”

“Fantastic!” Ritt exclaimed, waving his hand for the man to go do exactly that, indicating one of the many tables that had been lined up behind him away from the completely packed stands. It was that very motion that caused him to spot me approaching from the side, a grin quickly crossing his face. “Hey, Lyr, there you are! You’re back earlier than I expected. How are things going with our prisoners?”

“Surprisingly well—they didn’t hold anything back at all, and we have a few things to go on with regards to where a few extra of their camps and bases are farther up north, among other things,” I replied as I glanced around, seeing that the stands were full of eager adventurers chatting and shouting amongst themselves as they watched a few helpers rake the battle ring’s sand flat again. “How about here? It looks like things are going well here. Really well, actually.”

“That’s because they are,” Ritt replied, his grin growing even wider as he fully turned towards me, allowing me to see the now-familiar presence of Noodles hanging from Ritt’s neck, the rope snake helpfully holding what looked like a small clipboard on the man’s behalf. “I don’t know how you came up with this idea, Lyrian, but it’s been effortless on my part so far. Everyone sorts out their own disagreements, and things just carry on from there. Even the people waiting for their turn seem to be having a good time. We should turn this into a regular feature of some sort.”

“Well, if this is the sort of crowd we’d get if we did, I don’t see any reason why not,” I said, turning so I could better see the stands and surrounding area, finding them packed with what had to be the better part of a hundred adventurers. “We’re going to need bigger stands if we do though.”

“Definitely,” Ritt agreed, following my gaze for a second as he glanced towards the crowd, then the freshly swept arena before suddenly remembering something. “Whoops, they’re waiting on me now! I need to call another pair down. You going to stick around for a bit here?”

“Just for a minute, unfortunately,” I replied despite being eager to see exactly how the process worked firsthand. “I’m making my rounds, checking in on everyone here to see if they need anything from me. I need to drop in on Constantine and Sierra next.”

“Ah, that’s fair. They’re the ones sorting out and bringing in the loot that we’re handing out here,” Ritt said with an understanding nod. “If anything goes wrong there, we’ll end up with a riot on our hands.”

“Pretty much my thoughts too,” I said, the crowd suddenly growing louder as they continued to wait for something else to happen. “And it looks like they’re getting antsy enough here already.”

“Hopefully, only until the next fight starts,” Ritt said as he checked the clipboard that Noodles was holding for him before striding out towards the edge of the ring and facing the crowd. “Sorry about the delay, everyone! Next up is number twenty-eight and twenty-nine! Come on down over to me by the tables, and we’ll sort you all out!”

Striding back over towards me after he finished speaking, we waited for the called adventurers to appear, only to find ourselves surprised when both Janus and Riggs showed up at the same time.

“Oh, boy,” I said as I saw the pair. “Don’t tell me that you’re both twenty-eight and twenty-nine.”

“Ah, afraid so,” Riggs replied, the massive Tul’Shar holding up a piece of paper that revealed the latter number and Janus doing the same with the former. “So how is this going to work?”

“Well, that’s going to be up to you guys,” Ritt said as he took the two scraps of paper from him and once again consulted his clipboard, flipping it to another sheet and scanning it until he found their names. “According to this, you both carried over and above your weight for the battle, which means you each get a claim off the ‘grand table’ over there, or you can choose to take more from any of the other tables, adjusted for value the farther down you go. If you both like something you see, then you can each claim it and go. But if you both want the same thing…well, then we have some options.”

“You had me at grand table,” Janus said eagerly, his attention sliding over towards the other adventurer. “Shall we take a peek?”

“I’m already there,” Riggs replied in a matching tone, the pair shuffling off to look at the largest table that had been set behind the row of others, it being completely filled with a variety of items. Giving the pair a chance to scan over everything, Ritt and I passed the next half-minute with a bit of logistical small talk before the pair suddenly returned.

“So, we both want the Ring of Power,” Janus said.

“Who wouldn’t?” I replied with a snort, it taking me a second to realize what he was actually referring to. “Oh, you mean the one on the table there.”

“In absence of the other one…yeah, that’d be nice,” the spellsword replied, his gaze turning towards Ritt. “So what do we do next? Throwdown until one of us says uncle?”

“That’s an option,” the merchantman said with a nod, vaguely motioning towards the freshly swept battle ring. “Or, if you’d rather other options, you have a best of three rock, paper, scissors duel, or you take a chance with the dice.”

“Pff. Those other options aren’t as fun as having a dance in the ring,” Riggs said with a note of disappointment.

“Which is why the stands are as full as they are,” Ritt answered without missing a beat. “So what it’s going to be? If you both can’t agree on something, then it’ll be the dice by default.”

“I’m more than happy with a dance,” Janus said eagerly, glancing over towards his newfound rival. “What do you say, pussycat?”

“I say if you call me pussycat one more time, we’re gonna be having some fightin’ words in that ring,” Riggs answered with a growl, the smile on his face belying any trace of actual hostility.

“Well, hopefully, you’ll bring more than just words,” Janus said as he took a step towards the sand-covered arena. “Because let’s dance, pussycat.”

“Oh, you went there, little man!” Riggs exclaimed with a hearty chuckle, the man moving to follow without a second’s hesitation. “Let’s make this happen! Duel it is!”

“Aw yeah, this is going to be great!” Ritt replied as the two adventurers practically ran into the ring, ready to face off with one another. “I was hoping they’d choose to square off! You sure you can’t stay for this, Lyrian? It’s going to be something, I can feel it.”

“As much as I really want to, I’m afraid I need to keep moving,” I said, feeling a bit torn about the decision even as I made it. But I simply had too much to do before the day got away from me, especially with tomorrow being my off day when I’d be taking my rest cycle.

Among other things as well too, I thought as I said goodbye to Ritt and slipped away before the match between Janus and Riggs could start, my mind already eagerly looking forward to what tomorrow would bring.

Once I was free, I circled the active part of the arena and made my way towards its rear where the smaller dueling rings and training yards were, or rather where they had been. Over the last couple days, they’d all been taken over as a place for us to store, organize, and distribute the impossibly large collection of weapons, armor, and other various pieces of equipment or supplies we’d already recovered. Given the huge variety of stuff that was salvaged, it was a task in itself to figure out what was worthwhile to offer to the other adventurers and what was better off to be simply claimed by the town or donated to the crafters.

But that was after the items or supplies in question had even been recovered and brought back to Aldford.

Adding in a layer of difficultly to our task in sorting out the spoils was the fact that they’d been scattered everywhere, be it immediately outside of Aldford where the orcs had camped or out even as far as the plains, the broodmother having chased the orcs that far before losing interest. That meant that before being even able to distribute the loot, we had to scour the surrounding landscape to find it in the first place and bring it back to the town. It was a particularly time-consuming process that taxed even the two-hundred-odd adventurers that I’d sent out to help gather everything, the game deciding not to help us by consolidating the equipment of the orcs killed by the broodmother into one colossally-sized loot bag.

Hopefully, though, now that the sun’s come out and is starting to dry everything, we’ll be able to speed the recovery efforts along a little faster, I thought as I picked my way through the area, letting my feet lead me towards where I sensed both Constantine and Sierra through our party link, eventually finding them and a handful of others busily at work sorting through what we’d recovered thus far.

“A-alright, s-so this one here is a…Dagger of Bloodletting,” I heard the rogue say in a chattering tone as both he and the scout came into view around a group of crates filled with items, the man holding a crimson-hued dagger in a trembling hand. “Level twenty-eight, decent stats, and has a chance to inflict a bleeding effect as the name suggests. I’d peg this as t-table two, maaaybe table three material. What do you think?”

“I say we go with table two for now, and maybe promote it to table three if we find more than one of them,” Sierra answered as she turned to give the weapon a brief glance. “A matched set would be a hell of a lot more valuable, or maybe we can pair it with something else. We always need more big-ticket things to offer up.”

“Th-that’s true,” the half-elf agreed with a nod, his attention shifting in my direction as he spotted me. “Oh, hey there, Lyr, y-you’re b-back. How’d things go? Any sign of life from yours truly?”

“Not today,” I replied with a shake of my head as I glanced back at my friend, still somewhat unused to see him dressed in the thick layer of furs that he was currently wearing despite the already hot morning air around us. “Though got some interesting notes from Hido about both Mozter and Ignis, as well as the location of a few more of their hunting camps farther up north. I’m sure they’ve been abandoned by now, though.”

“We’ll take what we can get,” Sierra stated with a shrug, half inspecting a cracked orc helmet as she spoke. “Did he say anything specific about the pair?”

“Nothing about Mozter and only a small note about Ignis,” I said as I joined the pair, updating them on the details on my conversation with Hido before changing the subject, glancing over towards Constantine as I did so. “And how about over here? How are things going?”

“P-p-pretty well, all things considered,” the rogue replied, catching the subtle query behind my question. “I’m s-still freezing, b-but the furs and sun are helping a lot and th-the work is helping keep my mind off things. J-just another f-four more days to go, and hopefully, I’ll be out of the woods.”

“And you still know that you can take a bit of a break for those four days, right?” I asked, well aware of the effects that the corruption had left on Constantine after he’d reached his limit during the battle. “Several of the others who’ve been fully corrupted have. No one will think anything of it.”

“I know, and I m-mean I might, come day three or four,” he replied with a shaky shrug. “But right now, I’d rather help where I can and st-stay busy. And b-besides, I kinda don’t want to lose my street cred. W-what are people gonna think if they heard that a Canadian can’t h-handle a little bit of cold?”

“A magical curse affecting your soul isn’t exactly a little bit of cold, Constantine,” Sierra said in a dry tone. “And especially right now when you’re suffering from what again? A fifty percent cold resistance penalty?”

“It’ll g-go down to twenty-five percent once the fourth day is over,” the rogue replied a little defensively. “I think I’ll be able to manage that easy after. Or easier than this, at least. I mean, I’ll have to. The corruption is stuck on me until we can find a cure.”

“And I’m sure we will at one point, but you don’t need to burn yourself out before then,” Sierra said, holding her hand up gently as the man turned to look her with a vaguely frustrated expression. “Look, we won’t push you on it, but we want you to know the option is there if you need it.”

“I know, and I appreciate it t-too,” Constantine replied, his features smoothing as he glanced between us. “I…just don’t w-want to miss out on things. I know it’s dumb, but I feel bad that I m-missed out on the end of the battle—and then more on helping out until I got used to dealing with this. I d-didn’t even get to see you train a raid mob into the orc camp! That must have been epic!”

“More like epically terrifying,” Sierra said looking a little unsettled at the memory. “For me, or us rather, it was a terrifying run of near-death the whole way. And that doesn’t even include the prep beforehand as we lured her out of her lair. Half the time while we were avoiding pulling the broodmother early, we were tripping into other creatures and thinking that the noise would bring her along anyway. It was nerve-wracking.”

“I can only imagine,” I replied, having heard the story of hers and Kilgore’s mad dash through the forest with the giant behir on their tail. “But still, now that it’s all paid off, you have to be still feeling great about that!”

“A little,” Sierra said before going on to shake her head, a large smile coming across her face as her composure finally broke. “Oh, damn, I can’t hide it from you guys as easily as everyone else. Hell yeah, I feel good! I’m going to be chasing that high until the day I die! How many people can say they dragged a giant lizard into a horde of orcs? Not many, that’s for sure!”

“D-definitely not!” Constantine replied excitedly. “Oh, I c-can’t wait for the feed for that to hit. It’s going to be unreal. P-people are going to lose their minds.”

“I have no doubt,” I agreed, the three of us continuing on with our banter as we began to sort through the endless pile of items, the topic of our own loot eventually coming up. “So, you guys see anything come by yet that we should be trying to snag? I’m currently three-forty-one in line for the loot, so I have a long way to go till my turn hits.”

“There might be a few things that were stashed away to be, uh, discovered a bit later when my number, three-eighty, comes up,” Sierra replied a little evasively. “A wristband, a ring, and a shiny bow that I will fight everyone and anyone for tooth and nail so I can get it, so help me god.”

“S-same here,” Constantine added. “Though I’ve only f-found a necklace so far that I have my eye on. Maybe something else will jump out at me. I’m not t-till near the end, five-twenty-two.”

“Huh, well, I guess I better start sorting through my own stuff and see about laying a few items to the side where no one else will find them,” I said, picking up a cracked bone sword that appeared to be broken beyond repair and tossing it into a salvage bin. “Hey, I don’t suppose you guys would have happened to trip over any of Zhul’s gear yet, have you? Big dark armor and such?”

“N-nah, would have definitely mentioned that,” Constantine replied. “No one’s brought anything in th-that matches that yet either.”

“Hm,” I grunted with a little disappointment. “Then I guess he really did manage to escape after all.”

“That or he got eaten by the Broodmother,” Sierra replied. “And we might not get an update until we have proof that he actually died. I mean, we didn’t get the update about Sthera until Trivium messaged you, right?”

“That’s true,” I said with a frown. “But then back at the gardens, we did get an update about the other garden being blighted without actually seeing it or getting a message from them either.”

“C-could be because we were closer at the time,” Constantine suggested.

“Maybe,” I replied, the explanation as good as any of other ones that we’d been able to come up with. Whatever the case however, I couldn’t help but use that opportunity to check over the final battle’s summary once again, the sight still surreal to me given everything that we’d experienced.

Battle Summary Update! War: The Town of Aldford vs. The Dread Crew & Orc Tribes of Khudazal

Saturday, April 27th – The Second Battle for Aldford

Outcome: Decisive Victory

Allied Player Casualties: 591

Allied Non-Player Casualties: 0

Allied War Assets Destroyed: 78

Enemy Player Casualties: 9

Enemy Non-Player Casualties: 3487

Enemy War Assets Destroyed: 346

Captured Slaves Freed: 41

War Objectives Completed:

Kill Sthera the Deathspeaker: 1/1

Kill the Siegebreaker: 1/1

Stop the Orc Invaders: 1/1

Defeat the Dread Crew: 1/1

Rewards:

Glory Points: 101

Experience: 150,000

Leadership Experience: 50,000

“I guess we’ll just need to wait and see what comes our way,” I said as I finished reading the summary, still marveling over how things had turned out. Not only the part with us winning the battle, but also with me personally getting enough experience to jump all the way to level thirty-one even though I’d just hit level thirty during the battle. “Maybe we caught a break and he really was eaten.”

“If he was th-then we’ll have another thing to thank the b-big momma behir for,” Constantine said. “In addition to however m-many hundreds or thousands of orcs she ate and crushed.”

“True enough,” I said with a half shrug, something about the warlord’s ambiguous end rubbing me the wrong way, but one that I also couldn’t argue with, given how close we’d come to defeat. “Though I imagine that she’ll be something for us to worry about in the coming days. Especially since she knows where Aldford is now.”

“Maybe. But how about we make that a bridge to cross later. Right now we have plenty of other stuff to worry about. Such as this thing,” Sierra replied, holding up a slightly scarred chest piece made from a dark hide that I couldn’t identify as she spoke. “This looks like it’s table four worthy, anyone disagree?”

It was with that question that we all fell back into our work of sorting, the next couple hours passing by in a steady flurry of items and chatter. It wasn’t until the arrival of both Halcyon and Caius that we found ourselves pulled out of our routine, the pair looking visibly excited, and perhaps a little nervous when they arrived.

“Ah, there you guys are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Halcyon exclaimed as they spotted us. “Oh, man, we have news to share. Huge news. Epic news.”

“Is it that you’ve taken a class in suspense?” Sierra asked in a dry tone as we all turned to look at the pair as they picked their way through the various crates and boxes around us. “Because if so, I think I’m going to need to have words with your teacher.”

“What? No,” the mage replied, looking confused for a second before he shook his head quickly, clearly unable to contain himself. “It’s about Trivium and the others. Caius and I here just logged back in from our chat with them, and oh man, did they drop a bombshell on us. I’m still wrapping my head around it, but damn.”

“Hal, I say this with love, but please start wrapping up quickly, because if you don’t, I will wrap this around your head instead,” the scout said, picking up a bar of dark iron that was lying on a table beside her. “Because you are being a big tease right now, and it’s starting to stress me out.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands in front of him defensively. “But don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

“I’m sure I won’t,” Sierra stated impatiently.

“Right, so anyway…as I was saying,” Halcyon continued, pausing for a second to collect his thoughts. “We had our conversation to catch up with Trivium and his group, and like we saw in the battle summary, they did manage to not only kill Sthera, but they also routed her army in the process.”

“They did? That’s great!” I exclaimed, the summary being the only scrap of news that we’d managed to get from the other group. “With her dead and Zhul missing that leaves Khudazal leaderless.”

“And the other Arakissi tribes in the fens too,” Caius chimed in with a nod. “Without Sthera’s backing, they all pretty much collapsed overnight. Some into in-fighting, others against one another. From what we were told, it’s a chaotic mess across the board.”

“It sure sounds like it,” I replied, relieved to hear that they were all doing well. “So what are they doing now then? Just hunkering down and waiting until it plays out?”

“Well, not exactly, no,” Halcyon said, exchanging a glance with Caius as he replied. “They took advantage of the chaos to push ahead again. All the way to Khudazal, actually.”

“Wait, they made it that far?” Sierra demanded, her earlier impatience having vanished in light of the mage’s words.

“Farther actually,” Halcyon said, his earlier excitement that he’d originally arrived with reappearing. “Because when we spoke, he said that his people were in the process of securing the city. Or at least what was left of it.”

“What do you mean, what was left of it?” I asked, suddenly hearing my heart start to thunder in my chest. “Did…did they attack and take the city by themselves?”

“No,” the mage replied with a shake of his head. “That’s just it. They didn’t have to take the city. It was already razed by the time they got there.”

Epilogue

Wednesday, May 1st, 2047 – 3:00 p.m.

Marcus’s Condo

“…so then he puts his arm around your mother and says, ‘Hey, girl, what’s the drop rate on that dress you’re wearing because I think it’d be better on the floor.’”

“Oh my God, he did not,” I replied in shock to my father’s voice emanating from above as I busily ran a cloth across the kitchen counter in front of me, cleaning the mess I’d made while preparing the meal that was currently cooking in the oven.

“Oh, believe it, he did,” the voice replied, “and, of course, I’m sure you know what happened next.”

“I think I can paint a picture,” I said in a dry tone, knowing full well the course of events that would have followed that exchange. “So how did things play out after that?”

“To be honest? Perfectly,” my father replied with a chuckle. “I was able to use the…uh, distraction afterward to sneak past the guards when they came to save the poor man and make my way upstairs. From there it was just a couple of picked locks, a particularly deadly lightning trap, and a hidden safe before I had what we came for. Now thanks to us, Viscount Donnerly is going to be hung for high treason at seven in the morning tomorrow—along with the rest of his co-conspirators. Oh, and we got a big bag of money and experience as thanks as trouble for our efforts.”

“Which is all the motivation that we need for the trials that we put ourselves through, am I right?” I said with a grin after hearing the end to his story.

“That’s right,” he replied, adding another round of laughter before he shifted the subject. “Anyway, though, I think that’s enough about what we’ve been up to. Your mother told me a little while ago that you were all dealing with some sort of orc problem, and that it’s made you wildly famous as a result?”

“Eh, well, I’m not sure it’s made us wildly famous,” I said, unable to help but feel a little embarrassed at my father’s choice of words. “But we’re doing okay so far.”

“Pssh. You’re too humble, Marc. I saw you guys ranking at what…ninety-seven, I think at one point? If that’s just okay, then I think we might need to have a bit of a talk,” he told me.

“Ha, well, if you put it that way, we’re doing awesomely,” I said as I finished my wipe down of the counter and moved on to wash what I’d left in the sink, feeling the need to keep my hands a little busy at the moment. “To the point where it’s feeling a little surreal. Oh, and those orcs aren’t really a problem for us anymore. At least not in the short term for the next couple days, or hopefully weeks. We managed to chase those bothering us off pretty well. Not that there were that many to chase away by the time we were done with them.”

“Now that’s the kind of talk I like to hear!” he exclaimed excitedly. “Now catch me up on what all of that means detail wise, because I’m sure your mom and the rest of your aunts and uncles are gonna want to know as much as me what you all have been up to over the last few weeks.”

“A heck of a lot,” I replied with a shake of my head before I started to fill my dad in on everything that we’d done and had happened to us since the last update I’d passed along. “…so now, the last we’ve heard someone, or something even, completely wiped out the orc city, leaving only a handful of survivors picking through the rubble by the time our other friends arrived. They even somehow blew up the ancient keep that was there.”

“Woof, really?” he asked with a note of surprise coloring his voice. “You think it was maybe that giant lizard that you guys dragged into the orcs earlier that did it?”

“Maybe,” I said with a shrug that I knew he couldn’t see. “That’s the guess we’re going with until we find more information to work with. I’m actually heading there right now in-game as we speak. I’m hoping that by the time that I get there, the others will have something more to tell me, or if not, I’ll be able to explore around a bit myself. I figure if nothing else, maybe my new memories will trigger on something there, and I’ll get a better idea of what the orcs have been up to, if not whatever did them in. Then we’ll need to go looking for them I guess, and the other gronn too, assuming that they survived at all. We might have won this battle, but our war isn’t over yet, not by a longshot. We still need to find out what happened to Zhul, let alone track down and find Krol and the rest of this Unshackled Horde of his.”

“Hopefully, they did survive,” my father said in an optimistic tone. “And you know, it really doesn’t sound like you guys ever get a break over there.”

“It sure doesn’t,” I replied, that particular sentiment having come up more than once in the last twenty-four hours. “But I suppose that’s just our lot in l—”

A soft chime suddenly interrupted me mid-speech, followed by Sterling’s voice speaking out a second after.

“I am sorry to interrupt your call, Marcus,” the AI said in a gentle tone, “but you wished to be notified when your guest arrived within the building.”

“Ah, I heard that,” my dad said as soon the voice faded. “It looks like it’s showtime there, Marc.”

“So it does,” I replied, feeling a slight surge of anxiety shoot through me at Sterling’s notification. “Wish me luck?”

“You don’t need it,” he said in a confident tone. “You got this far already. Just keep being you, and I have no doubt that everything will work out.”

“Ha! Tell that to my nerves,” I replied as I took off the thick oven gloves I’d been wearing when I’d pulled out the roaster within. “But thanks, Dad. I’ll catch up with you and Mom next chance I get.”

“Sounds great to me! You take care of yourself over there in the meantime,” he said, the call ending with a beep after a final round of goodbyes, leaving me once again alone by myself in my apartment.

“You got this, Marc,” I whispered to myself as I gave the now immaculate kitchen one final glance, having just enough time to do so before a chime at the door caused my head to snap in its direction.

Feeling my heart begin to beat rapidly, I stared at it for a second before my mind caught up to itself, and I practically ran towards it, stopping just short of throwing it open without a thought. Instead, I paused for another second to take a deep breath and opened it normally.

Revealing Sonia standing on the other side of it.

“Hey,” I said with a smile, feeling my brain suddenly go blank the instant that I saw her.

“Hey,” she replied, her face immediately lighting up in kind the moment she saw me.

That was all that either of us managed to get out before we fell into one another arms and half-stumbled, half-walked back into the apartment, the door slamming shut a second later with a loud bang that neither of us noticed, our minds completely occupied by something else.

So occupied that by the time we remembered that I’d prepared food, it was cold.

***

Wednesday, May 2nd, 2047 – 12:41 a.m.

The Whisperwoods – Valley Pass

Graves

I breathed hard as I struggled up the steep incline ahead of me, hearing nothing other than my rapidly beating heart in my ears with every step I took, its deafening echo drowning out the surrounding night completely.

Ugh, how much farther is it? I asked myself as I glanced farther up the pass, the spell granting me my night vision only managing to reach so far before it abruptly ended, revealing nothing of interest to me. I swear I’ve been climbing this pass forever, and I haven’t—

A flicker of violet light in the distance interrupted my thoughts and immediately caused me to freeze as I focused my attention on it, watching it transform itself into the shape of a wisp. Floating lazily through the air for a few seconds, I saw it begin to fly in a slow spiral away from me, angling itself off the path I’d been following.

A signal? I thought as I began to move after the orb, wondering if it was indeed what I’d dragged myself here to find. Or perhaps it was an elaborate trap of some sort designed to ambush lone travelers foolish enough to make the climb up this pass by themselves.

Like I had.

Honestly, at this point, it doesn’t even matter to me which of the two it is, I thought wearily, the last two weeks of traveling alone having done much to wear down the resolve that I’d started with. If it’s them, it’s them, and everything goes forward according to plan. If it isn’t, and I suddenly end up back in Eberia on my ass, then I’m walking away from all of this. No amount of vengeance is worth needing to do this twice. Even after that damned feed they released.

Striding forward after the slow-moving wisp with only my thoughts to keep me company, I found the next quarter-hour passing slowly as I was forced to navigate the increasingly treacherous terrain that it led me on. Where my path so far had at least been flat and relatively smooth to climb, this one was rough and perilous, forcing me on more than one occasion to catch myself on a lucky rock before I slid off a hidden ledge and into the endless dark beyond. It was because of that journey that I was caught by surprise when I finally arrived at my destination feeling something akin to a soap bubble pop across my face, followed by the foreboding ridge side ahead of me abruptly rippling with magic.

An illusion, I realized the second after I found myself standing right at the mouth of an exceptionally large cave that hadn’t been there a second earlier, seemingly having materialized out of nothing. But soon I discovered it wasn’t just the cave that had been hidden away from sight, but rather a pair of heavily armored dark elves as well, the two already walking towards me with arrogant expressions written across their faces.

“Graves?” one of them asked in a faintly accented voice, cutting through the need for any introduction.

“Yeah, that’s me,” I said, resisting the urge to ask if they were expecting anyone else that would be foolish enough to make the climb this late at night. “I’m here to see Endriss.”

“We know,” the other replied, inclining his head towards the yawning cave. “This way. He is waiting for you.”

With nothing left to say between us, I was then escorted inside, one of them leading the way ahead of me, while the other followed a few steps behind. Moving at a brisk pace, it only took us a few seconds to pass through the cave’s short entrance before it abruptly opened up, revealing a large, well-lit cavern within. Continuing to stride forward as we entered the chamber, I found myself greeted by the sound of countless whispering voices abruptly echoing all around me. Unable to help but feel a little surprised at the noise given the late hour, I glanced around in an attempt to find their source, my eye eventually landing on the form of dozens of other dark elves sitting and lounging in various groups throughout the cavern.

Ascendancy soldiers, or if not that, then mercenaries, I thought, it only taking me a second to see through their lazy façade, noticing that each of them still wore armor despite their lax behavior and that they all had a weapon within reach. Good. I’m sure we can find something to put them to use for.

“You’re finally here,” a voice suddenly called out, causing my attention to pull away from the soldiers and look forward, spotting both a robed dark elf and a vaguely devilish-looking woman, dressed in leather armor striding towards me. “We were wondering if you were going to show up at all.”

“I am a full day earlier than we agreed on, Endriss,” I said to the man, letting his implied barb wash over me in favor of staring at the woman beside him, it only taking me a second to recognize that she too was an adventurer, the revelation immediately setting me on edge. “And who is this? I was under the impression that we were meeting alone, without any other…entanglements present.”

“Originally we were,” Endriss replied, turning to glance towards the woman, who shifted to look back at him in response. “But a few complications forced us to change our plans or accelerate them rather. Hence your being late and her being here.”

“I don’t like hearing about complications this late in the process, Endriss,” I said to the man as I took my eyes off the woman and turned them back towards the dark elf. “And you still haven’t told me her name.”

“My name is Delilah,” she replied, prompting my gaze to shift back towards her. “And I’m the reason why you aren’t hearing about those complications. Or better yet, why you’re hearing anything, and not standing alone in this cave, wondering why there was no one here.”

“So you say,” I said, disliking the tone that she spoke to me with, her entire presence here rubbing me the wrong way. Especially since I felt I recognized her from somewhere, even if I couldn’t place it at first.

Did I see her in his feed before? I wondered as I stared at her vaguely crimson skin and dark hair, my memory stirring slightly, but unable to come up with an answer. Or am I just seeing a common face from one of the others? I must have scanned through hundreds, if not maybe even a thousand different Ascendancy feeds before hatching this plan.

“So I say,” Endriss stated in a final tone as he took a step forward, his words and movement stealing my attention away. “And really my say here is the only one that matters. If you don’t like it, Graves, then you are welcome to leave. Peaceably, of course. But let’s not forget who came to whom here.”

“I came to you because I thought you were a better candidate than Odium,” I stated in a hard tone despite the promise of walking away from this place with nothing to show for it causing my stomach to twist uncomfortably. She wouldn’t be happy if it came to that. Especially not after all the time and effort it had taken her to obtain what I’d asked for. But the last thing I wanted to do was start this relationship off on anything less than an equal footing, or at least the appearance of such, lest Endriss try to make my life more difficult down the line by thinking that he was truly in charge. “Perhaps it’s time for me to reconsider that. Or if not Odium then perhaps Silas instead? Unless I’m mistaken, he should be near here as well?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” the dark elf hissed in response, his voice suddenly wavering as he spoke.

“Look in my eyes and tell me again that I wouldn’t,” I replied to the man as I fixed him with the hardest glare that I could manage. “I don’t need you testing my patience, Endriss. The opportunity that I have to offer is one that can be easily filled by any of them, but I chose you because I thought you and yours were the best of what the Ascendancy has to offer.”

“We are the best it has the offer,” Endriss stated in an angry tone. “You would be throwing away your chance at anything by choosing anyone else.”

“Then don’t force me to do so,” I said in a commanding tone, shifting my focus back over towards Delilah. “Now tell me, how much do you trust her? Enough to trust her with everything we’ve planned?”

“Yes, without reservation,” Endriss replied without a second’s hesitation, his earlier attitude fading away as he glanced over towards her, the woman not having moved an inch during our conversation. “What she said earlier was no lie. We, I, wouldn’t be here without her. Delilah will be nothing but an asset to us. I have no doubt.”

“See that she is, and I will sing her praises as loud as you are right now,” I said, sensing the sincerity behind the man’s words and deciding that it was time to offer an olive branch to the pair if only to cut the tension that had been building steadily in the room, enough so that the other dark elves had stopped whispering.

“Great!” Endriss replied with a sudden happy clap, immediately going on to rub his hands eagerly. “Then let’s move on from that…misunderstanding and get straight into the reason that we’re here. Do you have it?”

“Of course, I do,” I replied, not needing any hint to know what he was asking about as I reached into a pocket and pulled out a small wooden box, the container barely bigger than my palm, and held it out for him.

“So that’s it, huh?” he said as he looked at the box curiously from where he was standing. “It looks a little…small.”

“It’s as big as it needs to be,” I assured, not wanting to tell the man that I’d asked the same question after I’d been given it.

“If you say so,” Endriss said with a shrug before motioning towards the box with his chin. “Open it.”

I froze at the man’s words, not sure that I’d heard them right. “What?”

“Open it,” Endriss repeated, this time his hand coming up to motion towards the container. “Open the box.”

“You want me to open it here?” I asked, not having expected him to be so eager.

“Of course,” he replied in a serious tone. “Where did you think I would open it? Somewhere where my guild could see it?”

“I don’t…” I started to reply only to allow my words to trail off, instead offering the man a shrug. “Very well.”

It was with a foreboding thought running through me that I thumbed open the box that I held, its lid sliding easily off its top before falling and hitting the ground with a faint clatter. As it did, a thick dark smoke immediately rose from within the box and began to spill over first its edges and then my palm before billowing out towards the floor. Building rapidly with every second that passed, it wasn’t long until the entire cavern was covered in a haze, some of the nearby soldiers starting to call out in concern. But despite their worried inquiries, Endriss and Delilah didn’t say anything, the pair simply standing and watching the box continue to spill forth until it was impossible to see anything in the chamber. It was only, when I finally couldn’t see the box myself despite it being in my hand, that I felt something violently erupt out from it with enough force to tear it from my grasp, a hungry growl reaching my ears.

Followed by the first screams echoing out a heartbeat later.

***

Purgatory

“Oh, that was brilliantly done!” Creativity squealed with the sound of utmost joy in her voice as she clapped her hands together in excitement, her eye tracing a path on the Grand Tapestry that she hadn’t looked in on for what felt like an age. “It was bold. Daring. Unexpected. Everything that I was hoping for and more when I gave you all that challenge. You will all go far. Unlike this one.”

Her praise came into an end as she reached out to pluck at the crimson strand that paralleled the others before her, finding it to be weak and lifeless to the touch, something that caused her heart to falter.

“I tried to teach you, to show you that you needed more than just yourself,” she said, doing her best to smooth it out, but to no avail. “But you didn’t listen. Didn’t want to listen. And now you are where you are.”

Creativity paused for a second to regard the pattern she had focused her attention on and then looked ahead to what potentially waited in its future, her head slowly beginning to nod.

“A place which, when I look now, is perhaps the best one that can be had for you,” she added, the brief moment of thought all that she needed to see where the strand’s future would have likely ended up. “There was nothing but darkness ahead of you, both for those you touched and for yourself.”

Turning her attention away from the crimson strand, she shifted her focus to another brightly glowing thread beside it, its silver light shining brightly in her eye, even more so than the last time that she’d seen it. So much so, in fact, that it was starting to attract other nearby strands towards it, pulling not only a substantial number of them from their original course but also causing a few of those pulled closest to it to also begin to gain a silver hue.

Something that only filled her with another burst of joy, except this time even greater than first.

“Oh,” she said as she gazed at the strand, barely able to contain herself as she inspected it. “You are ready. I’d thought…well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. Preparations must be made!”

Humming to herself excitedly, she reached out to the tapestry with purpose, following the silver thread into the future, watching and reading where Fate was likely to lead it.

“Hm, yes, a final tempering,” she whispered as her hand reached out towards the nebulous edge of her work, quickly cleaning away a handful of lesser threads that would only serve to distract and adding a few others in their place. “This will help to see just how far you will rise when the time comes. Ah, I am so excited to see what you will become!”

Her work finished, she stepped back away from the section she’d focused her attention on giving one last look of satisfaction before moving on, the sight she’d seen filling her with a new curiosity of how her other silver threads were faring.

“Good, very good,” she said while glancing towards another argent strand near the first, its light not nearly as bright or its pull as strong on those around it, yet it was still enough to win a nod of her approval. So too were the half-dozen other threads that she saw farther away from the first pair, each of them glowing with the same promise and pull that she’d hoped to see. “This will do—”

Creativity stopped as a bloom of darkness caught her eye, its appearance instantly causing her movement to freeze and eyes to widen. Spreading outwards from its source, dozens of dark lines spread outward, causing nearby threads to fray and snap, snarling the tapestry and turning what an instant earlier had been a beautiful work of art in her eyes something ugly and stained. Yet it wasn’t that damage that sparked the sudden rage that Creativity felt shoot through her, but rather the brief glimpse of the threads she managed to see before the darkness erupted from it.

“Oh, sister, that is low, even for you,” she said with bitter anger as she watched the nemesis unfold before her. “To think that you would do such a thing…”

Creativity let her words drop off, knowing that nothing she said would matter, save to further enrage her and steal her focus—something that she was sure to need if she were to mitigate the damage that had been done.

“Or should I at all?” she mused a second later, wondering if she perhaps couldn’t use this development to her advantage, to arrange things in a way that it would task the souls that her sister had pulled around her and push them to their breaking point. If they thrived under such pressure, it would still serve her goals, nemesis or not. But if they broke or faltered, then her sister’s plans would unravel right before her.

Yet even if it doesn’t, there is the other to rely on, she thought as she followed a thread that had slipped her mind since the last time she’d seen it, watching where it had come from and where it had yet to go. Yes. I can see it now. A twist here, a nudge there, and it will all come together flawlessly.

Decision made, Creativity prepared herself for the task, extending her will to draw countless spare threads towards her, their potential, their promise to change the world as she saw fit, hovering in the air before her, waiting to be put to use. Destruction, through all her efforts, may have been able to nudge events on occasion, to twist them away from their original purpose, but she could not create anything herself, for the threads of fate were Creativity’s—and only Creativity’s to command.

And so it was, with an eager smile, that she plucked one of the hovering threads before her, glanced at it carefully, and stepped even closer to the tapestry.

It was time to change Fate.

Lyrian’s Character Sheet at the End of Glory to the Brave

Lyrian Rastler – Level 31 Spellstriker

Human Male (Eberian)

Statistics:

HP: 2074/2074

Stamina: 1700/1700

Mana: 2318/2318

Experience to next level: 8,800/147,500

Renown: 7110

Attributes:

Strength: 114 (189)

Agility: 134 (235)

Constitution: 97 (98)

Intelligence: 141 (163)

Willpower: 54

Abilities:

Sneak Attack II (Passive) – Attacks made before the target is aware of you automatically deal weapon damage+35.

Power Attack III (Active: 120 Stamina) – You slash viciously at the target putting extra strength behind the blow. Deal weapon damage+75.

Kick (Active: 20) – You kick your enemy for 10-20 points of damage, and knock them back 1-2 yards. Depending on your Strength/Agility score, you may also knock down the target.

Shoulder Tackle (Active: 40 Stamina) – Stun enemy for 1-2 seconds with chance to knock enemy down based on Strength and/or Agility attribute.

Unarmed Mastery I (Passive) – All Unarmed attack damage is increased by 12.

Perfect Strike (Active: 300 Stamina) – You strike your enemy for +300% weapon damage with an increased chance of it being a critical hit, dealing triple damage. Due to the toll that this ability takes on your body, it can only be used every three minutes.

Skills:

Magic:

Evocation – Level 30 – 32%

Alteration – Level 30 – 1%

Conjuration – Level 29 – 94%

Abjuration – Level 29 –82%

Weapons:

Unarmed Combat – Level 29 – 98%

Swords – Level 30 – 12%

Axes – Level 11 – 35%

Daggers – Level 28 – 34%

Other:

Stealth – Level 28 – 83%

Wordplay – Level 24 – 33%

Perception – Level 30 – 4%

Tradeskills:

Blacksmithing – Level 30 – 10%

Carpentry – Level 29 – 0%

Leatherworking – Level 29 – 0%

Tailoring - Level 27 – 79%

Mining – Level 16 – 1%

Herbalism – Level 11 – 4%

Cooking – Level 5 – 54%

Cartography – Level 2 – 3%

Advanced Tradeskills:

Artificing – Level 1 – 0%

Leadership Skills:

Health Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Mana Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Stamina Regeneration +10. Rank: 10/10

Enhanced Movement +10%. Rank: 10/10

Improved Health: +2.5%. Rank: 5/5

Improved Mana: +0.5% Rank: 1/5

Improved Stamina: +0% Rank: 0/5

Improved Leadership I. Rank: 1/1

Spells:

Flare

Light

Blink Step

Shocking Touch

Lesser Shielding

Flame Dagger

Jump

Alacrity

Arcane Chains

Blink Strike

Flameburst

Arcane Shield

Concussive Blast

Frigid Grasp

Shocking Touch III

Cone of Cold III

Protective Shielding

Strikes:

Frost Strike – When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +170-230 points of Cold Damage. On strike there is a chance you will [Frostbite] the target, slowing their attack speed and movement speed by 30% for the next 3 seconds. This effect only stacks once.

Fire Strike – When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +250-350 points of Fire Damage. On strike there is a chance you will [Burn] the target, dealing an additional 75% of the Fire Damage inflicted over the next 5 seconds. This effect only stacks once.

Thunder Strike – When you strike your next target, you deal Weapon Damage +200-300 points of Lightning Damage. On strike there is a chance you will [Shock] the target, stunning them and preventing any action for up to 3 seconds. This effect can only occur every 30 seconds on the same target.

Spellstriker Class Ability:

Elemental Strike – Thanks to their constant use of magic, Battle Sages have learned how to suffuse either their weapon or physical strike with any element they have mastered, adding an extra potency, and special effects to their attacks.

Racial Ability:

Military Conditioning (Passive) – All defenses are increased by 5% and total hit points are increased by 10%.

Traits:

Open Minded – Accepting of racial differences and radical ideas, you have learned to accept wisdom and the opportunity to learn no matter what form it takes, allowing you to make intuitive insights where others would give up in frustration. Grants a substantial increase in learning new skills, and the ability to learn all race locked traits, skills, crafting recipes, and abilities that are not otherwise restricted.

Re-Forge – You have learned the basics of how to recreate a broken relic and are able to bring back some of its former glory.  This skill will function across any and all Tradeskills you acquire.

Improvisation – Your study of goblin craftsmanship has given you the insight to make adjustments to standard and learned recipes by replacing required materials with something else. E.g., Replacing metal with wood in an armor recipe will create a set of wooden armor instead of metal. The higher your level in a Tradeskill, the more changes can be made and the fewer materials they will require.

Ætherwarped – Due to high exposure of Raw Æther, your body has undergone unpredictable changes! You have gained the following Sub-Trait(s) and Abilities as part of your condition.

True Sight – Your eyes have been enhanced by exposure to Æther to the point where they are able to pierce through natural darkness and all facets of magic to see things as they truly are. This ability replaces Arcane Sight and can be suppressed at will. When this ability is active, the player’s eyes will visibly glow a bright blue.

Mana Devourer – For as long as you have mana, you do not require to eat or drink, however as your mana reserves diminish, your hunger will increase correspondingly until it becomes impossible to ignore. Should you completely deplete your mana reserves, your body will immediately enter a feral state as it begins to consume itself at a rate of five hit points for each second in a mana deprivation state, the rate increasing by another five hit points every second afterward until at least 50% of your total mana is restored or you are consumed.  All mana regeneration is permanently reduced by 100%.

Mana Leech – Its power enhanced by the effects of the [Mana Devourer] trait, you are now able to enhance your mana leech ability by expending your life force, allowing it to disrupt a single nearby spell. At the cost of 8% of your total health, you are now able to disrupt the formation of any spell within 30 feet, absorbing 50% of mana used to cast it, and prevent your target from casting spells for the next two seconds. Due to its strain on your body, this ability can only be used once every five minutes.

Mana Torrent – By fueling the ever-present hunger that now lurks within your body with your life force, you are able to draw in all nearby sources of mana directly towards you and absorb it. At the cost of 20% of your total health, this ability will instantly drain all mana sources within a 15-foot radius of you for 200% of your [Mana Leech] rate, and temporarily disrupt the formation of any spells for the next three seconds. Due to the strain on your body, this ability can only be used once an hour.

Arcane Touch – After much practice and honing both your martial and magical prowess, you have become well-practiced at using spells channeled through your weapon or body, learning how to empower their effects while reducing their mana cost. Any spell or magic based traits that you channel through your weapon or natural body to attack a target, has its effects increased by 15% and mana cost reduced by 35%.

Player versus Player:

Ranked Duel Statistics:

Current Title: Neophyte

Regional Rank: 8

Global Rank: 3,324,542

Glory Points: 121

Personal Rating: 1676

Wins: 4

Losses: 1

Draws: 0

Current PvP Skills Available for purchase:

Increased Health – Increase total health by 2.5%. 5/5

Increased Mana – Increase total Mana by 2.5%. 5/5

Increased Stamina – Increase total Stamina by 1%. 2/5

Amaranth’s Character Sheet at the end of Glory to the Brave

Amaranth – Level 31 Familiar

Male Puma (Ætherwarped)

Statistics:

HP: 1904/1904

Stamina: 1837/1837

Mana: 1230/1230

Attributes:

Strength: 180 (216)

Agility: 146 (194)

Constitution: 107

Intelligence: 61

Willpower: 49

Abilities:

Sneak Attack IV (Passive) – Attacks made before the target is aware of you automatically deal Natural Weapon Damage +125.

Ambush IV (Active: 150 Stamina) – You ambush your target, striking them in a vulnerable location. Deals Natural Weapon Damage +500. This ability can only be used on a target unaware of you.

Power Attack IV (Active: 150 Stamina) – You viciously attack your target putting extra strength behind the blow. Deal Natural Weapon Damage +100.

Pounce & Rake (Active: 60) – You leap upon your target, potentially knocking it down, where you then brutally rake it with your hind claws. Deal Natural Weapon Damage +120.

Primal Mastery IV (Passive) – All Natural Weapon attack damage is increased by 150.

Skills:

Martial:

Primal Combat – Level 30 –4%

Other:

Stealth – Level 29 – 93%

Perception – Level 30 –1%

Racial Trait:

Primal Predator – Built for the hunt, you are without peer when it comes to tracking prey by either sound, smell, or sight.

Spells:

Jump

Blink Strike

Flameburst

Help me reach my goal!

Thank you for reading Ascend Online: Glory to the Brave! Hopefully, you enjoyed Lyrian’s and the gang’s latest adventure! This book was an absolute pleasure to write and I hope it was a fun ride for you all! I’m here again asking for all of your help in reaching my review goals for this series and seeing if I can’t hit 1000 reviews on each and every single one of my Ascend Online books.

As I am sure you all know by now, reviews are the lifeblood of an independent author and give me the help and support I need to keep writing fulltime! If you’re interested to help keep me writing, please consider either flipping to the very end of this book if you’re on a kindle or clicking here to be taken straight to the store page where you can leave a review for this book!

Afterword

Hi, Readers! Thank you again for reading my story! As I mentioned on the previous page, please consider leaving a review for this book, they help more than you know! I really hope that you enjoyed reading Glory to the Brave and that you’re excited to see what’s next for Lyrian and gang!

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Other Series by Luke Chmilenko

The Shattered Reigns (Co-written with Bryce O’Connor)

A Mark of Kings

Warformed (Co-written with Bryce O’Connor)

Stormweaver: Iron Prince (Coming Soon, October 2020!)

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Stormweaver: Iron Prince

***

Reidon Ward will become a god.

He doesn't know it yet, of course. Reidon was born weak, sickly and small. Afflicted with a painful disease and abandoned by his parents because of it, he has had to fight tooth and nail for every minor advantage life has granted him.

His perseverance has not gone unnoticed, however, and when the most powerful artificial intelligence in human history takes an interest in him, things began to change quickly. Granted a CAD—a Combat Assistance Device—with horrible specs but an infinite potential for growth, Reidon finds himself at the bottom of his class at the Galens Institute, one of the top military academies in the Collective. Along with his best friend, Viviana Arada, Reidon will have to start his long climb through the school rankings, and on to the combat tournament circuits that have become humanity's greatest source of excitement and entertainment.

So begins the rise of a god. So begins the ascent of the Stormweaver.

***

PROLOGUE

Early December, 2461

Astra System – Astra-2 – Sector 22

“Progress in CAD technology over the last two centuries has proven itself the single most valuable advancement humanity has made in our war efforts. When firearms and the largest portion of our other ballistic weaponry lost all value against the enemy’s reactive fielding and adaptive armor capabilities, all that remained to mankind was to chase after the same sort of armaments. It took decades, but from the moment Devices and their Users start heading for the front lines, we found a foothold once again in what had long been thought a lost battle.”

Essentials of Simulated Combat in Military Training

Lieutenant Colonel Hana von Geil, Ph.D.

“And THERE IT IS, ladies and gentlemen!” the match announcer shouted with what could only be described as genuine glee, his voice crackling over the worn speakers of the Matron Kast’s ancient pad. “The Iron Bishop’s Repulsion has sent Alex Rightor flying! Will she—YES! Valera Dent is chasing, following up with a vicious barrage of strikes. The Defense spec of Captain Rightor’s Carnus is no joke, but the Bishop is peerless in finding vulnerable attack points with her Kestrel. Two blades are always better than one and—OH! Rightor lands a heavy kick, and it’s the chief warrant officer’s turn be sent sailing! I must say, this is a fight for the ages!”

In the small hands of an 11-year-old boy, the borrowed pad vibrated lightly with every exclamation the announcer made. It didn’t bother the child. It made the fight that much more enrapturing, and even if he hadn’t been able to see the two S-Rank CAD-Users going at it he thought he might have been able to imagine the details of the bout just from the descriptions.

Fortunately, the Matron kept the clear smart-glass tablet in good condition, and so it was with wide eyes in a dark room that the boy watched Valera Dent and Alex Rightor break against each other like titans made of flashing light and carbonized steel.

As an exhibition match in commemoration of Valera Dent’s retiring from the professional SCT circuit, the field had been randomly selected. The two Users fought in 30 yards of open grassland—the standard size of any competitive Dueling ring—their movements completely uninhibited by obstacles or deterrents that were commonplace in other zones. No trees. No buildings. No scattered stockpiles or crates. It allowed for a truly unfettered view of the fight, and the child who had snuck into Kast’s office to watch didn’t think for a second he was the only one pleased with the choice.

Captain Alex Rightor’s Carnus was a breathtaking Device. As an S-Rank, his CAD covered every inch of his body, forming an intricate battle suit whose interlocking plating shimmered and shifted with every movement the man made. The standard tricolor, it was mostly gold and green steel with accents of light blue vysetrium, and it complimented its User’s stellar Strength and Defense specs with its bulk. Rightor was a Mauler-Type, the initial form Carnus had manifested as undoubtedly having been some basic design of the massive two-handed hammer the man was now whirling at his smaller, lighter enemy. As the Device and its User had grown in ability, though, so too had Carnus upgraded and evolved. To the boy taking in the captain now, Rightor reminded him of lion, powerful and graceful despite his massive size.

On the other hand, when it came to grace, Alex Rightor was outmatched twice over by his opponent.

Chief Warrant Officer Valera Dent moved with the speed and elegance of some great raptor of war. Kestrel’s externals—suspended over both her shoulders—completed the illusion almost too well, the eight angular modules floating like the broad, red feathers of metallic wings. They served a purpose, of course, allowing Dent to channel her CAD’s electromagnetic energy freely, granting her the ability to skate over the twisting grass of the plains without so much as a hint of effort. Her Device was the antithesis of Rightor’s. It was spare and dignified, a mirage of minimal red plating over a skin-tight blue under-layer, detailed in glowing white. All of Dent’s vitals were armored, but Kestrel sacrificed S-Rank Defense for the Speed and Offense that had made short work of so many of the Iron Bishop’s opponents in her years on the circuit. Even the woman’s weapons could not have been more different, a pair of identical, narrow sabers whose handles and blades matched the colors of her armor, ivory vysetrium forming long, florid edges.

“Oh!” The announcer’s narration came through again loudly. “Captain Rightor has thrown his hammer in an attempt to bring Dent down! This can only mean one thing—YES! Magnetic Hunt! An Ability both of these fearsome opponents share! As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, Carnus will hound the Bishop across the field until it takes her out or Rightor recalls it! Magnetic Hunt is a high-level Ability, and cannot be maintained long by your average combatant, but then the captain is anything but average!”

“No! Go! Run!”

The boy didn’t even hear himself shout, too mesmerized he was with watching Valera Dent hurtling a foot above the ground around the edge of the simulated grassland, attempting to shake the massive hammer that was now careening after her as though attached by an invisible chain. She was skating backwards, trying to keep an eye on both the weapon and Rightor himself, the glowing white eyes in the red plating of her helm flicking between the pair at an astounding rate. All the same, Rightor saw his moment coming, and when the time was right he bent low—not unlike crouch of the lion he so embodied—preparing to pounce.

Then, with the crunch of shifting ground, the captain lunged.

There was no Ability triggered, no trick to the move. Alex Rightor’s Strength and Speed specs were simply so significant that the man was able to clear 15 yards of distance in a blink, catching Valera Dent in the moment she looked away from him. His heavy gold and green form collided with the lighter User, slamming her into the invisible perimeter wall of the Dueling field with a crunch that made the simulation shiver and flicker for a moment before stabilizing. From the pad the boy heard the “Ooooh!” of the audience lucky enough to be watching the match in person, but the excited shouting of the announcer was lost as Rightor reached out with a one armor-clad hand, the other pinning Dent to the wall by her throat. To her credit, the chief warrant officer didn’t so much as struggle, not even when the massive hammer that had been chasing her flew into its User’s waiting grasp with a satisfying clunk. Instead, she calmly brought a sword up in a thrust at Rightor’s faceplate. A flick of the captain’s head kept him from being run through the eye by the glowing blade, Carnus already lifting, ready to come down on the Bishop.

Unfortunately for him, even that brief dodge cost him his focus long enough for his opponent to turn the tides.

The second sword slashed in an upward arc that only someone of Valera Dent’s caliber and skill could have achieved from the awkward position of being pinned to an intangible wall. The bright blade caught the arm that held her in place under the elbow, between the gold plates of Rightor’s armor, passing clean through. The limb remained intact, of course—CADs in simulated combat matches were always phantom-called—but the arm went immediately limp, along with the hand and fingers around the chief warrant officer’s neck. At once she took advantage, and with a lateral blast of electromagnetic energy skated sideways along the solid boundary just as the hammer impacted where she’d been a moment before with another static jolt in the physical projection.

“And Valera Dent strikes the first true blow of match, severing her superior officer’s neural connection to the better part of his left arm!” The announcer’s voice came back to the boy as relief at Dent’s escape washed over him. “Fear not, new viewers! The captain will regain full function not long after the match is over, but for now he’s down a limb! Not a good place to be for a Mauler!”

It was true, of course. Rightor wasn’t among the exceedingly rare Users who could manipulate their CAD’s weapon configuration using Arsenal Shift. Unfortunately for him, that meant wielding Carnus to the Device’s optimal function was going to be difficult, now. With its evolution over the years had undoubtedly come an increase in the two-handed hammer’s weight to improve the CAD’s Offensive spec, so the captain was likely to have difficulty even lifting his weapon with only one hand, much less swinging it.

Unless…

There was a flash, and the blue accents in Rightor’s armor blazed. Ion fire of the same color flickered between the plates of his CAD, and when he whirled the azure eyes in his red-and-gold helm were glowing almost-blindingly.

“OVERCLOCK!” the announcer bellowed across the excited roar of the audience. “A common enough Ability shared among many Users, but in the hands of someone with the captain’s skill, a truly terrifying turn of events!”

Sure enough, Valera Dent—who’d changed course to come at an angle for her opponent’s flank—was suddenly withdrawing with all speed. It was fortunate she had, too, because Rightor spun in a blink, the hammer ripping through the air exactly where the woman had been not a heartbeat before. She continued to retreat, but the captain crouched once more, armor still glowing, his massive weapon held stoutly in one hand.

Then he lunged again, and the Iron Bishop was suddenly dancing between raining blows that came so fast, Carnus’s colors became a mirage of gold, green, and blue.

It was breathtaking, and the child sitting in a chair that was too tall for his feet to touch the floor couldn’t help but gape. Rightor was a terror, and as long as he could maintain the Overclock he was likely one of the most dangerous Users in the Astra System, if not the entirety of the ISC. With one hand he brought the hammer down again and again, and before long the field—pristine at the start of the match not 3 minutes prior—was cratered and pocked from a score of impacts and glancing blows.

But it wasn’t the captain and his Carnus that the boy watched with such awe.

Valera Dent moved with such liquid poise, he couldn’t help but wonder if the announcer had missed the triggering of her own Overclock. Kestrel’s visual energy output hadn’t changed, though, and a quick glance and scroll through the live combat log in the top right of the feed showed no Abilities activated since Rightor’s last-ditch effort to secure himself a win.

The Iron Bishop was just that fast.

Dent’s motions were so clean, so calculated, they could have been choreographed. Her top-tier Speed and Cognition specs showed themselves off in all their glory as her entire form became a red-blue blur streaked with white to match Carnus’ constant hammer blows. Here and there the child with the pad barely 2 inches from his face could catch a clear moment of her stepping to the side or deflecting a descending strike with a heavy flick of both blades, but as a whole the two combatants didn’t allow their spectators much more than glimpses of clean action in the furious exchange.

And then, abruptly, it was done.

The boy thought he saw the moment, though he caught the opportunity, but Valera Dent moved with such speed he would never figure out if he’d seen the same thing she had, or if he was just trying to convince himself of that in retrospect. To his eyes, Alex Rightor had overdrawn, had brought the weight of the hammer just a fraction too far back in an attempt to build up as much momentum as possible. The difference was a matter of inches, barely pixels in the feed of the glass tablet, but it had been enough. The strike came, horizontally in a thundering sweep meant to cover every foot of space Dent and her Device could attempt to escape to. The chief warrant officer, though, dropped under the attack, possibly even onto all-fours—it would be impossible to tell until a frame-by-frame replay was released. The hammer sailed over her head, colliding with several of the floating externals that made up Kestrel’s red wings, crushing and sending them flying with an ear-splitting crunch as their phantom-forms processed having been destroyed.

Their sacrifice was well worth it.

The moment the hammer cleared her overhead space, Dent was lunging upwards, both swords leading the way. Rightor jerked back, seeing his fatal mistake, but even his own high Cognition and Overclocked reflexes could do nothing for him. The ivory-edged blades found their mark together, slipping under the captain’s gold faceplate in which his eyes still glowed blue, puncturing with all the power Dent could manage in her upward thrust. There was a cracking sound, and the swords broke through the top of Rightor’s helmet, having skewered him jaw-to-skull. There was a moment, almost a full second in which the hammer in the captain’s hands held, the Device kept grasped in an armored hand by the lingering will of its User.

Then the weapon fell to the broken grass with a thud, and Captain Alex Rightor went limp on the lengths of the Bishop’s swords.

“Fatal Damage Accrued,” the light, mechanical voice of the Arena announced. “Winner: Valera Dent.”

“YES!”

The exclamation came threefold, once from the crowd, once from the announcer, and once from the boy sitting in the too-tall chair several planets away from the fight. In his excitement he punched a fist into the air with another yell, then cried out as his bandaged shoulder screamed in pain at the motion.

“It. Is. OVER!” the announcer’s voice came from the pad as the boy slid it up onto the Matron’s desk in favor of clutching the offended joint, shutting his eyes tight against the stabbing ache. “Ladies and gentlemen, Chief Warrant Officer Valera Dent—the Iron Bishop herself!—walks away with her head held high, finishing her circuit in our System SCTs with an astounding 54 to 6 record! We will have interviews for you with both our combatants once Captain Rightor has recovered, and stay tuned for a return to our regularly scheduled tournament matches starting shortly! For the time being, however, let us all take a moment to applaud the chief warrant officer, and let her know that our thoughts and hopes go with her as she heads for the front line!”

There was another roar of approval from the crowd, which the boy managed to join in with again after his shoulder settled. He was just reaching for the tablet, intent on turning it off and heading back to his room, when he made out the sound of hurried footsteps not seconds before the door to the room burst open.

“What in the MIND’s name is going on in here?!”

Matron Avalyn Kast of the Estoran Center for Children stormed into her office with a fury. A flash of the NOED in her right eye had the line lights of the space flicking on, and at a glance the boy noted that not only had the aging woman clambered out of bed in her nightgown, but several of the Center’s staff—and not a few of the other children who lived there—had followed her, though they were all smart enough to gape into the room for the open doorway.

“Rei!” the Matron exclaimed in what was a half-terrified, half-livid shout when she caught sight of him. “What are you doing out of bed?! You’re supposed to be recovering!”

In answer, the boy the picked up the pad and waved it excitedly in one scarred hand, using the other to push his long, white-streaked black hair out of his grey eyes. “She won, Matron Kast! She won!”

“What are you—?” the Matron started, stuttering to a stop as she looked at the screen of the tablet, on which a reel of the most exciting moments of the exhibition match was playing. “Who—?” Then she realized what she was seeing. “Reidon Ward! Are you watching the combat tournaments again?!”

For a reply, the 11-year-old only grinned.

CHAPTER 1

Early May, 2468 - Seven Years Later

Astra System – Astra-3 – Sector 6

“The Simulated Combat Tournaments developed by the Intersystem Collective Military are arguably mankind’s greatest source of entertainment. Complex engagement training at the core of their design, since shortly after their application in the early 24th century the SCTs have also become the sole source of military funding, as well as an excellent means of recruitment. The circuits are so essential, in fact, that actual participation in the war efforts was struck as an eventual requirement for high-level combatants first in all professional SCTs, then eventually in the collegiate levels as the academic and institutional events gained their own massive intersystem viewership. If a User achieves any significant merit in either—or both—of these circuits, then deployment becomes voluntary. Strange as it may seem, many prominent civil and social scientists have touted their agreement of this method, often pointing to the research showing that a single successful SCT combatant’s impact on enlistment largely outweighs any direct effect they might have on the situation on the front lines.”

A Consideration of SCTs and Their Intersystem Influence

Lieutenant Colonel Hana von Geil, Ph.D.

Distributed by Central Command, Earth

When the punch came, Rei was ready for it.

The NOED Grandcrest Prep had provided him as part of his tuition wasn’t the best quality, but a little tinkering in the base code had provided a decent boost in processing power. As a result, the highlighted warnings in its optical frame did a good job of giving Rei fractions of a second’s advantage. When Ansley Kosh shifted his footing, twisting away ever so slightly, the readout blared red over the boy’s left arm.

So when the punch came, Rei was ready for it.

He dodged to the side, keeping his right hand up to shield his face as he jabbed with his left. The blue frame lines of the NOED in Kent’s eye were obvious too, though, so Rei wasn’t shocked when the testing blow was smacked away. A leg followed next, and he ducked, attempting to sweep at his opponent’s ankle, but the boy planted and twisted, and Rei earned himself nothing more than a painful slamming of shins. Turning his momentum into something valuable, he shifted and flipped back over his hands in an upward kick. He felt his toes catch Kosh a glancing blow under the chin, and by the time he’d rolled onto his feet again the boy had stumbled back several paces, almost outside the marked lines.

Damn, Rei thought, realizing that might have been his chance to knock his opponent out of the ring.

A few of his teammates were shouting encouragement behind him, and he thought he heard Viv’s voice in the drone, but he tuned it all out. He had to. His right elbow was killing him after taking the weight of that flip, and Ansley Kosh had murder in his eyes as he shook off his moment of surprise and approached the center of the mat again.

Red highlights.

Rei ducked, then dodged again, Kent’s one-two combo turning half his vision crimson as the NOED only barely caught it. Rei kicked low again, this time straight on, and managed to catch Kosh in the ankle, sending his front foot sliding back. The boy caught himself on his other leg, though, and brought chopping blow jetting down at Rei’s head. Rei got both arms up in time to block, bracing for his elbow to scream in protest.

The strike never came.

WHAM!

The impact of Kent’s knee catching him square in the face would have broken Rei’s nose if it weren’t for the thin layer of reactive energy shielding his head from excessive impact, transmitted by the mandatory combat collar around his neck. Just the same, the barrier was only designed to reduce the force of a blow, so Rei wasn’t surprised to smell blood as he was thrown onto his back. He lay there for a second, stunned, and was unsurprised when he heard the shout of “Match win! Carter’s School for the Gifted!” from the referee.

Dazed, Rei only barely managed to sit up. The ref was beside him a second later, the man’s plain whites almost painful to his watering eyes.

“Easy, kid. That was a hell of a hit. Can you stand?”

It was a hell of a hit. Rei grunted and closed his eyes, pretending to consider the question. In reality, with a series of quick eye commands he had his NOED pull the footage from the mat-side cameras, then watched the last few seconds of the fight from the spectator’s angle. He had to admit that Kosh played him well. Instead of bringing the blow down on his head, the move had been a feint to get him to defend up and open himself for a knee-strike.

Block with one hand next time, idiot, Rei berated himself, already hearing Coach Kat’s criticism ringing through his ears.

“I can stand,” he told the referee, opening his eyes again and pushing himself up. As he did, he tasted metal, prompting him to bring a hand up to his nose. His fingers came away bloody, soaking the wraps that looped over most of his exposed limbs to cover up as much of the scarring as possible, or at least what wasn’t hidden under his black combat suit already. He looked up, offering Ansley Kosh a grin. “Good match. Hope you don’t mind if we don’t shake hands.” He held up the reddened hand in explanation.

Kosh, for his part, grimaced. It made his designed, handsome features take on an ugly quality that even reached his orangish eyes. He addressed the ref. “Can I go?” He asked, looking like he distinctly preferred to be anywhere but sharing a mat with Rei.

The ref frowned, but nodded, having no reason to keep the victor from his cheering teammates. The Carter’s fighters, in their red robes, were all smiles and shouts as Kosh turned on his bare heels and stepped out of the ring. There were laughs as well, but Rei chose to assume those were hoots of excitement rather than anything else.

He didn’t have the energy to believe anything else, in that moment.

“I’m good,” he told the ref with a nod of thanks. “I can walk off on my own.”

The man patted him on the shoulder, offering a look of forced encouragement. “Good fight.”

It made Rei feel sick.

He turned and approached his own bench. Coach Kat was standing at the edge of the mat, arms crossed and looking bored. She offered Rei a cursory once-over, lacking anything more than apathy, eyes lingering on his bloody face.

“Block with one hand next time, idiot,” she muttered by way of feedback, then waved him by without uncrossing her arms. “Go get cleaned up.”

Having expected nothing less, Rei moved on without another word.

There were no more shouts of encouragement from the combat team, now, much less cheers or smiles. On the contrary, the majority of the boys and girls of the squad didn’t meet his eyes as he stepped off the mat, or even move out of his way to make it easier to reach the bench. He still got there, though, and had already sat down to start looking for a clean towel before discovering his punishment wasn’t half over.

“What the hell, Ward? Do you have any useful function, other than acting like a living training dummy?”

With an internal sigh, Rei looked up in time to find a broad-shouldered boy standing over him, his black hair striped with artfully designed slashes of red, his clear blue eyes burning in his perfect features.

“I just got kneed in the face, Lee. Hard.” A few strands of Rei’s white hair had fallen out of the tail he’d gather it in behind his head, and he blew them out of his face before waving at his bloody nose for emphasis. “Are you going to cut me some slack, or just keep up the trend of being a monumental dick?”

Lee Jackson’s face hardened, and he put his hands on his knees so he could bend down to be closer to eye-level with Rei. “You’d think three losses in a row would have taught you to shut your damn mouth, freak. If you cost us the lead in this tournament, I’m gonna—”

“Lee, it’s the 25th century. If you’ve got a thing for Rei, you can just tell him. No one’s gonna judge.”

Rei wasn’t proud of the breath of relief he involuntarily took at the sound of Viv’s voice, but it was worth Lee snapping up and away from him, cheeks flushed. From his left, a tall girl with brown hair—twisted into artful curls that had no business lasting the length of a day-long school combat tournament—slid into view from out of the rest of the gathered team.

“What?” Lee seethed. “I’m not—”

“Oh, you’re not into him? Weird.” Viv cocked her head in feigned confusion as she approached the two of them, people moving aside for her without hesitating. “You have a tendency to get in his face so much, I figured a burning desire for some make-out action was the only plausible explanation.”

There was a roll of healthy laughter from the other members of the squad, and Lee’s cheeks turned almost the color the streaks in his hair.

“Screw you, Arada. Ward just gave up three consecutive matches. If he loses us this tournament—”

“It’ll have about as much to do with you as with him, jackass. His day’s record is 2 and 3. What’s yours again? Oh right. 3 and 2. And you’ve got what? 6 inches and 40 pounds on him? If Rei had your height and weight, you’d probably make a better barbell than opponent for him.”

More laughter, louder this time. To top it all off, Lee wasn’t quick enough on the comeback, giving Viv enough of an opening to lift a hand and make a shooing motion in his direction. “Walk away, loser. Go play with your boytoys.”

Rei couldn’t decide if Lee looked more ready to explode or melt into a puddle, but at that moment one of the boy’s friends decided to save him some face by taking him by the shoulder and pulling him into the gathered bodies of the others. When he was gone, Viv turned to Rei, holding out clean white towel he hadn't seen hanging from her other hand.

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath.

Rei grinned up at her, accepting the towel and starting to wipe off his face as he answered. “That’s rude. I kinda thought I was in the right, there.”

The girl snorted in answer, turning to plop down in the empty space to his left, earning her a sidelong eye from Rei.

Viviana Arada was, it could be argued, his only real friend at Grandcrest Preparatory Academy, which technically made her his only friend period. It had taken him a while—and then some—to come to term with her interest in spending time with him, but a mutual distaste for the politics of the Grandcrest cliques and a shared interest in CAD-combat and the SCT circuits had proven enough to make them fast friends—to the displeasure of more than just the students of the Academy. In a lot of ways, having Viv as a companion had made life a lot harder for Rei in a school he’d known he was never going to fit into. She was gorgeous, she was smart, and she was popular—or would have been, if she spent less time with him—and he’d taken more than one punch from some jealous suitor of both sexes.

On the other hand, Viv was also the only reason Rei had made it through all 4 years at Grandcrest at all.

“How’s the pain today?”

The question caught him off guard, but only for a moment. Viv wasn’t looking at him, pretending to watch a match he knew she couldn’t see through the black-clad bodies of their teammates. If anyone else had asked him that, he would have lied through his teeth, like he did every time Coach Kat or the school doctor did, or even Matron Kast in their occasional NOED calls.

But Viv wasn’t anyone else.

“Not great,” he admitted, setting aside the now-bloody towel to start undoing the wraps of his right arm. “It was acting up during the fight.”

“I could tell. You’re supposed to be taking it easy, Rei.”

He shrugged, trying for a grin as the last of the bindings fell away, revealing a thin forearm marked with a score of identical, round scars. “Since when have I been good at taking it easy?”

“Since you have surgery tomorrow, and the CAD-Assignment Exam is in a week, jerk.”

Rei shrugged again, a little more stoically this time, flexing his arm and feeling relieved when his elbow only mildly protested. “I’ll be fine. It’s just another laser correction. A couple days in a sling, and I’ll be good to go.” He turned, raising both eyebrows at Viv and pretending to flex for her. “Not like I have much to worry about in this form of epic manliness, right?”

It was Viv’s turn to look at him sidelong, but after a moment she couldn’t seem to help herself, and she cracked a smile at the image he cut, thin chest out and scrawny arms up. “Maybe not, but get your CAD and the girls will be all over you in a year or two.”

Rei laughed then, loud enough that not a few among the squad turned to glare at him. He grinned in their direction, earning further glowers until they all gave their attention back to the matches.

Once they had, though, he felt the amusement slide away a little bit.

“A little bulk would be a nice bonus. But you know that not what I’m going for.”

Viv nodded once, staring ahead again. “I know,” she affirmed. “But you’ve got a cute face. Some muscle and a little catching up in the height department, and you might just be a cert-if-ied hunk.” She drew out the last two word for emphasis, and Rei knew she was trying not to laugh herself.

“Uh-huh,” Rei answered, not looking at her as he started to undo the wraps of his left arm. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take your positive assessment of my facial features to heart. I haven’t kept track, but I’m pretty sure you’ve stolen away more girlfriends at this school then every boy in our grade combine.”

“Don’t go putting me in a box, Reidon Ward.” Rei didn’t have to look up to know Viv was smirking with what might have been pride. “Just because I tend to prefer the female form doesn’t mean I can’t handle a decent slab of man-meat when it comes along.”

Rei stopped his unwrapping, turning his head slowly to face her. “Please—for the love of the MIND and all this is good in decent in this world—never use the term ‘man-meat’ in my presence ever again.”

Viv’s smile was almost evil now, and she shrugged. Then her eyes moved to Rei’s arms again, following a longer scar than the others that traced the back of his left elbow. “Just… take it easy, okay? It’s only for the next week. Weird as you are, I wouldn’t want to get into Galens without you.”

Before Rei could respond, an intercom call pitched over the thrum of the combat and cheering happening all around them.

“Our top-scorers bout will begin in 15 minutes in the center ring. 2nd seed: William Errie of KLM Schools. 6’4”. 232 lbs. 1st seed: Viviana Arada of Grandcrest Preparatory Academy. 5’11”. 165 lbs.”

Viv sucked her lip at the ceiling, having tilted her head back to listen. “Tsch. I told them to knock 20 pounds off my weight for that announcement.” She glanced at Rei one last time. “You hanging around to watch?”

He shook his head sadly, looping his now-lose wraps around one hand again and starting to stand up. “No. I wish. I’ve got to get to work.”

Viv rolled her eyes and got to her feet too, tugging down the knee-cuts of her skin-tight combat suit that had ridden up from sitting. “So much for taking it easy, then?”

Rei winked at her. “Gotta make sure this ‘weirdo’ doesn’t have his diploma held by Grandcrest for unpaid dues.” He brought up a hand, imitating her shooing motion from early. “Go on. Get. It sounds like there’s a mountain of ‘man-meat’ waiting for you ‘handle’ him.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Viv frowned, looking a little green.

“Okay. You were right. I’ll never say it again, if you promise to do the same.”

***

And I’m afraid that’s all we have for Stormweaver: Iron Prince’s preview! I hope that you enjoyed it! If you are looking to learn more about this new series consider joining Wraithmarked Creative’s Facebook Group where you’ll be able to all the news from both Bryce and I about it’s upcoming release!

Until then, see you all next time!

Lyrian and the rest of Virtus will return soon in:

The Threads of Fate