Five floors, two Floor Bosses, and one mild but debilitating injury later, the Seven Stones Guild had exited. As a favor, Daniel had cast a simple Healer’s Mark to allow Lady Nyssa to recover from the twisted ankle faster, ensuring she could return to training the next day. After the team had passed on their farewells to one another, they had parted ways, with Daniel and friends travelling to the Adventurers Guild to sell the few Mana stones they had acquired.
While seated at the tavern’s dining table, snacking on a plate of deep-fried pork skin—made from some magical wild boar that were raised within the city limits he had been assured—that they were interrupted. Mattias Gill strolled over to their table, leaning on the table slightly as he stared at Daniel, ignoring the other two Adventurers. “I am very disappointed in you, Healer.”
“Huh?” was all that Daniel could think to say to that sudden pronouncement.
“I thought we had an understanding. And here you are, going to so many others, speaking to them about things that you should not.” Mattias shook his head. “One wonders if you ever truly wanted to hide your Gift.”
Daniel twitched at the pronouncement, though the general hubbub in the Guild was sufficient to drown out Mattias’s words. No one looked over, no one checked on the Adventurer or wondered what Gift he spoke of.
“And who might you be, Hero?” Omrak rumbled from the side, the blond Adventurer sitting straight in his chair in an attempt at intimidation.
Mattias flashed a quick look at Omrak, muttering “Be quiet, child” before he turned back to Daniel. “I’m very disappointed in you. We were kind enough to give you time to think, to consider. And here you are, telling others about what we learnt. So consider our initial offer withdrawn.” Daniel nodded, opening his mouth to remark only to be cut-off. “Instead, you’ll join us, alone.”
“That sounds like a demand,” Daniel said, frowning.
“It is a statement.” Mattias leaned over, his voice dropping. “You do not want to disappoint me a second time. The Three Skills do not like being crossed. Nor will my sponsors be willing to take your reluctance well.”
“And that’s a threat,” Daniel added. His lips pursed even further even as Asin edged back a little from the table, clearing the distance to her daggers.
“From me? No. Just a warning.” Mattias straightened. “My sponsors will not allow you to take your Gifts to another.”
“I think we’re done here,” Daniel said, his anger flaring at the threats.
“Fool.” Mattias spat to the side. The altercation between the group was drawing attention though, so he just turned and walked away, leaving the trio to stare at his fading back.
“Well, that was . . . different,” Daniel said, shaking his head. Very few people would be willing to threaten a healer. There were ways of course, but being so blatant seemed strange to him.
“I do not think you should join them,” Omrak said.
“Yes,” Asin added, simply.
“Agreed. But I don’t like those threats. Do you think we should inform the Guild?” Daniel said, absently smiling and nodding in reassurance to the few Adventurers who were still looking at them.
“Yes.” Asin flicked her gaze to the backrooms and the staircase leading up to where the guildmaster would be.
“Ah hell . . .” Daniel said.
It was best to report it, just in case. Still, he was certain it was going to raise numerous questions that he had no real desire to answer. And, in truth, there was little the guildmaster could do for verbal threats other than note it. Without evidence, they could only be more watchful.
Still, it worried Daniel and his friends. Theirs was a dangerous profession as it stood, and all too often Adventurers did not return from the Dungeon for entirely practical reasons. A single mistake, pushing oneself too hard, greed, and just bad luck could end an Adventuring team as much as malfeasance.
Standing up, Daniel headed for the back offices, followed closely along by his friends. It was best to get this done.
***
As expected, there was little that the Guild could do for them but note the entire incident. In fact, they had not even managed to see the guildmaster themselves, instead speaking to one of his many assistants who wrote down the entire incident, promising to inform the guards to keep an eye out for threats.
It was such that the next morning, the trio met up again before the Guild Hall in a rather glum mood. As Daniel walked over, he noted that Asin was speaking with a team of Beastkin, a group of six Adventurers. Two were Foxkin, squat and fast with the red fur of their clans. One had Foxkin fur; the other had fur on the rear of his hands and running down the back of his neck and sported a strange mutton chop beard. The front-line fighters were a Bearkin and Boarkin, wielding a greatsword and halberd respectively. As for the other two, they were both Birdkin, though Daniel was uncertain of their type. Rather than hair, they had short feathers that seemed at first glance to be hair. The fact that they both carried bows indicated they were the long-range support.
“Daniel!” Asin called out to the healer. She waved him over and then tilted her head to the Bearkin, letting out a low growl in the Beastkin language to the others.
“Ah, Asin wishes us to greet you directly,” the Bearkin said. “I am Wasme. This is Kord” —a nod to the Boarkin— “These two brothers are Pol and Mol” —a glance to the Foxkin— “and the sisters are Ash and Oak” —for the final Birdkin.
Daniel greeted the group, and then watched as the introductions were repeated when Omrak arrived as well. Looking the group over, he spotted a guild badge that they all wore, a simple chain that had been shattered in the center.
“I’m assuming there’s a reason for a party from the Broken Chain to be meeting us here? Or is this really just a coincidence?” Daniel said.
“Not coincidence,” Asin said, her tail lashing out behind her lazily. “Show.”
“Show . . . never mind,” Daniel said. He got it. Team mechanics. “Don’t you think we should have had a discussion beforehand. About what you can offer?”
“Unnecessary. We know enough about you. But we’re Beastkin. The Broken Chain is our largest Guild; we are but half as strong as the five,” Wasme said. “What you see is what we can provide. Companionship, training.”
“And you want to show us what kind of training you can provide,” Daniel said, finishing off the unspoken thought.
“Yes. If you will allow us.”
Daniel looked over at Omrak who shrugged. He looked a little unhappy since they had planned to enter the Dungeon themselves today to earn some coin. While they had made some profit from the Mana stones they had picked up, Porthos was just not a great Dungeon for them, even when they were not purposely holding back. Still, it was but one more day, and they could enter again tomorrow.
As for Asin, Daniel knew he did not need to ask. After all, she had been the one to arrange this.
“All right, let’s see what the Broken Chain can do.” Daniel offered his hand again which Wasme clasped with one and then slapped Daniel’s shoulder with the other. The stout Adventurer found himself nearly knocked off his feet by the Bearkin, a part of him noting the carefully-leashed strength held within the bulky muscles of the Bearkin.
“Just give me a second while I get a rockbow. Wasn’t really thinking we’d be going to Porthos again . . .” Daniel said.
***
Two floors down, the group were having a short lunch break on one of the many floating islands that made up this floor. The second floor of Porthos was similar to the first in all but volume and the addition of the occasional moving walkway trap. As the group rested, the Birdkin kept watch, bow idly held in one hand while they tore into strips of jerky in the other.
“What do you think?” Kord, the Boarkin, asked. He was using a spatula to spoon mouthfuls of yellow rice, vegetables, and strips of meat into his mouth with gusto, the tiny tusks that rose from his lips easily avoided from long years of practise. “We’re different, aren’t we?”
“Very much so, Hero Kord,” Omrak rumbled. “You and Hero Wasme are strong, and the Bear’s roars drive the Imps away so easily.”
“Beastkin traits,” Kord said, grinning. “We can buy Blood Skills if we wish, beyond just normal skills. Wasme uses Territory Roar for the fear effect. Mine’s more focused on getting them to fight me.”
“So I noticed,” Omrak said. “I have a similar skill too.”
“Northerner?” At Omrak’s nod, he chuckled. “Does it ever strike you as strange that the only people who don’t have special bloodline Skill Proficiencies are the humans of Brad and the surroundings?”
“They did,” one of the Foxkin interrupted. Daniel glanced at him, trying to remember if it was Pol or Mol. Their names were so similar that he kept getting them mixed up. “Father said that they lost it because they angered Erlis.”
“Bah! Father says a lot of things when he’s deep in the joosh. Anyway, Priest Leow said it was because they diluted their blood too much. And that’s why we shouldn’t dilute ours further either.”
Daniel could not help but smile slightly at the bickering pair of brothers. In truth, in terms of the Northerners he was not certain there was any blood-related reason why they had different Skill Proficiencies they could choose. Certainly, unlike the Beastkin, he felt no difference when he worked on their bodies. Beastkin on the other hand—those were a pain and a half to handle.
“Not true. Knights and Lords.” Asin spoke up, raising a hand and counting off. “Nobles.”
“Yes, but those are . . . well, bloodline related. But I do hear that it’s not a common title in other countries,” Kord said, rubbing his chin. “The Republic of Sift comes to mind.”
“Bah! It’s not much of a republic, being a single city and a few towns,” Wasme said, coming over to sit down. “More like a big province.”
“You’re all very well-informed,” Daniel said, his voice tinged with surprise.
Few people bothered to learn much about other countries. As it was, few individuals would bother leaving their own hometown, never mind going so far as to travel to another city or town over. Adventurers were obviously different, with their need to go where Dungeons were, but even then, few needed to concern themselves about countries outside of their own.
“Beastkin hobby,” Wasme said, heavy brows drawing down in a frown. “We talk about other countries, hoping to find one that desires us. Or how they treat others of our kind. Always good to have an ear to the wind.”
There were nods from all around, making Daniel wince internally. The continued persecution of the once-enslaved race was a sore point, for humans and Beastkin alike.
“But enough of that. Kord was speaking of our training methods. And it is different. Between our bloodline abilities and our greater flexibility in terms of physical skills, we have learned to make do without Mages and their flexibility,” Wasme said. “Our frontline fighters are stronger than most, being made up of Beastkin of the appropriate blood.” He paused and grinned. “Mostly.”
“Mostly.” Asin echoed, her grin widening.
“Mostly?” Omrak echoed.
“There are the stubborn. The unusual,” Wasme said, gesturing towards the pair of Foxkin. “Some grow larger than normal. Others are just more suited to it by temperament. Not everything is a matter of blood. Though much is, for us.”
There were nods again from the Beastkin before Pol piped up. “But you’re still going to find it better to guess based off a ’Kin’s animal than not.”
Mol added, “And outside of the Guild, you’ll find fewer deviants. Both civilian and in other Guilds.”
“That’s right. They just aren’t as accepting as we are.” Pol grinned.
Wasme just shook his head, his voice rumbling as he continued. “But we do like healers. Those are always helpful. Even if we have fewer than we like.”
“I don’t think there’s a Guild that has as many as they’d like,” Daniel said.
“Maybe not, but Beastkin healers are even more precious. Few who are competent would enter a Dungeon. And few human healers are willing to study our bodies well enough not to cause inadvertent harm,” Wasme said.
Daniel grimaced, nodding at that. Initially, when he healed Asin of anything complicated, he often had to tap into his Gift to understand her body. By now, of course, he knew it well enough; but with the sheer variety of Beastkin, it would be something he would need to do frequently. Even if he saw Beastkin in the hospice too and was learning there, there was a difference between knowing and understanding.
“I—we—like what we see,” Daniel said, glancing at Omrak and Asin to get confirming nods. “But there’s more than just tactics that we have to be concerned about.”
“Yes, I unde—” Wasme was interrupted by a shrill hoot.
He turned, frowning to the Birdkin guard who had made the noise, only for her to point at an approaching party on one of the land bridges.
Automatically, the group shifted, eyeing the new team. Daniel noted how they grew tenser, how they moved apart slightly. More than one of the Beastkin checked the location of their weapons, made sure they were loose in their sheaths. It was a level of caution that Daniel frowned at before he remembered last night’s threat. Sharing a look with his own team, he checked his own equipment.
In short order, the new team had managed to make their way over to the group. The leader, a scruffy-looking human with her hair tied up in a high ponytail, smiled as she walked over. But she had her hands resting on the paired short swords on her hips, and the team split apart the moment they had space. Perhaps it was automatic—long lessons learnt from delving—or it could be something else, but from Asin’s straight tail, Daniel was leaning towards the second.
“Hail, fellow Adventurers. You don’t mind sharing this island, do you? We’re a little beat after our last encounter.” In contrast to her words, the group looked entirely untouched and quite energetic.
Wasme smiled, walking over to her, his sword still slung over his shoulder. “Actually, it’s a pretty small island. Perhaps you could move on?”
“Come now, there’s no need to be so unfriendly.” The raven-haired woman continued to speak as she closed the distance.
“’Ware,” Ash said, drawing and raising her bow in one fluid motion. Her sister mimed her actions, taking another target as she moved to flank the group further.
“Rude. But what can you expect of beasts?” the woman muttered. She smiled brightly, eyes tracking over the Beastkin and Daniel’s party to stop on him finally before she laughed. “I guess we do this the hard way.”
The next moment, the new team threw themselves into action, weapons coming out of their sheaths, and chaos emerged.
***
Asin shrunk down for the first major action the new team took was to engage a spell. It shrouded the entire floating island in darkness, making the arrows that Ash and Oak fired go off course a little. Asin could hear the chime of metal arrowhead and blade echoing in the heavy, cloying darkness as the enemy team leader engaged Flawless Parry. However, the second arrow had a softer, more muted and squelchy end, burying itself within the body of the second in command. Of course, that individual was the tank, so it would likely only slow him down a little, but any damage was better than none.
The darkness that wrapped them initially was all-encompassing, forcing Asin to scurry—carefully—along the ground with care. But already, the pupils in her eyes were widening, drinking in the light that crept through the spell. Vague outlines began to form before her, the enemy team already splitting apart and aiming for the other Beastkin. Behind her, Asin could hear Omrak and Daniel cursing, falling into a defensive formation back-to-back.
She nodded to herself, grateful her friends were smart. They did not have the advantages the Beastkin did. Better for them to take care of themselves first. Oak and Ash were moving closer too, storing their bows and pulling out short swords and daggers. As Sparrowkin, they had good eyesight and fast reflexes, but none of the other enhanced senses. In the darkness, they were just as vulnerable.
A roar from Kord yanked her attention to him for a second. Already a pair of the enemy team members had been headed to him, but now a crossbow bolt buried itself in his body, meant initially for Pol. The Boarkin had begun glowing, triggering a rage ability much like Omrak’s.
And then, finally reaching the point in the island she had been aiming for; Asin threw her first knife of the battle. It was a simple attack, one that blossomed into multiple throwing knives that harried the pair of attackers closing in on Kord. Fan of Knives combined with her lightning enchantment dug into human skin, shocking and distracting the pair.
The leader was not among them, engaged as she was with Wasme. Flickers of movement, as the greatsword-wielding bear attempted to strike the faster, wilier opponent. Already, he bled freely from multiple surface cuts. The woman was fast and gifted, outfighting and out-maneuvering the half-blind Bearkin. He did not have the night sight that she did, though his expanded senses let him gauge roughly where his opponent was. Giant sweeps with his big weapon were a danger as well, forcing his opponent to focus on him rather than leaving for the greater threat. The threat of Pol and Mol brought to bear as they fell on their opponents’ backline.
The pair of Foxkin had night vision just like her, nocturnal predators whose eyes worked just as well in low light. Expanded senses, greater agility and an innate cunning had them slipping from the darkness to pounce on the archer and the Mage. Short swords flashed, cutting into bodies, and screams erupted from the enemy team.
Broken from the unnatural draw of Kord’s Primal Challenge, one of his opponents spun away. Only to be hit in the side as the Boarkin triggered another of his blood abilities—Ferocious Charge—and knocked his distracted opponent off the island itself. His long, drawn-out scream of surprise was muted due to the spell, legs and hands flapping in the air as he dropped.
But the attack had come at cost, allowing Kord’s other opponent to drive a sword into his side. The Boarkin staggered for a second, eyes wide, before his rage ability drew him back to his feet. Asin howled, having just finished tossing a knife at the enemy leader as she spotted the attack from the corner of her eyes. Even as she ran forward, Kord started to turn around, only for his opponent to yank his sword out sideways, bisecting the spine and dropping the Boarkin to the floor.
Asin snarled in rage, tail lashing out behind her, the gravel stone beneath her bare feet suddenly making it much harder for her to reach Kord’s enemy. She watched him fall before she launched herself into the air. Faster than she could have believed possible if she had not seen, felt, it herself, the swordsman had whipped his sword out and lunged at her flying body. All she could do was twist her body slightly as she was about to be skewered.
Only for the attack to be pushed off-line, tearing a line of pain along her side as the unnaturally sharp sword cut through leather. Her enchanted defensive necklace had forced the sword aside as it impacted her hardened aura. Then she was on him, legs and body smashing into him, knife driving deep into the gap between neck and shoulder pauldrons. Her electrified aura arced as it came into contact with the swordsman, and even as he attempted to push her off, pommel striking her, she held on. One knife lodged deep in his chest, the other stabbing again and again as it attempted to drive through chainmail in his side.
Her struggle narrowed for long seconds, long minutes as her opponent struggled to survive her onslaught. Eventually, he stopped moving entirely and Asin looked up, taking in the fight again. Wasme was still standing, though he was bleeding heavily. Kord was on the ground, unmoving, while Pol was missing. Among the corpses of the other three Adventurers, Mol stood, crying. The only individual left in the slowly fading darkness was the team leader, who had backed off from Wasme and was now surrounded by her own team and the Bearkin.
“Why did you attack us?” Wasme snarled, tears in the big bear’s eyes.
“Damn. Easy targets they said. Just beasts, they said,” the dual-wielding woman muttered to herself, turning from side-to-side as she ignored Wasme. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“Surrender, tell us why you did this, and we’ll let you live,” Daniel said, his shield held up in front of himself defensively.
“Har! Do you see their eyes? The anger they show. The beasts will never let me off.” She laughed, clashing her swords together. “So you might as well get this over with.”
“Who hired you?” Wasme growled again.
“Ask the healer.” And then, while the group was still startled, she dashed out from the enclosed ring, picking a space between the two greatsword-wielding fighters. Their reflexive swings missed and clipped her gently, leaving a trail of blood before she escaped.
Directly into the pair of Birdkin, who stabbed forwards in unison with their blades. To their surprise, rather than block the attacks, the woman sheathed her blades in their bodies, taking the attack herself. Pinned in her chest and shoulder, she still tried to twist the short sword in Oak’s body, Ash having managed to rip the weapon away from her own side.
And then Asin was there, hacking down with her knife. She cut off the woman’s hand, leaving the weapon inside Oak as she booted the crazed woman away. Too slow. Again. But Daniel was moving too, dashing over to begin casting, to fix what he could. Magic formed in his hand, Minor Healing already materializing as he got ready to fix the damage done to Oak.
A healer, a compassionate human. And perhaps, the cause of all this tragedy.