Chapter 8

Mathias the Lancer crouched in a pile of rubble and watched the party of uruks drawing closer, concealed in Stealth as best as he could.  He fingered the haft of his spear as the half-dozen gray-skinned, orc-like creatures advanced down the High Road, not even bothering to conceal themselves as they moved. 

Although, Mathias supposed, they had a good reason for that.  Aranos had told Mathias that the High Road near Eredain was patrolled by the urukkai, as the general race seemed to be known by the elves, but the Sorcerer hadn’t hinted that it would be quite this heavily traveled.  Mathias and his party had only been on the High Road for a couple miles, and this was the fourth uruk patrol they’d spotted.  The creatures all moved without care or concern, as if they owned the Road and weren’t worried about who might be sharing it with them, which slightly worried Mathias, to be honest.  Uruks weren’t that powerful, and he and his party could handle a group like this with ease.  Surely, there were a ton of other creatures on the High Road that could do the same.  That they seemed so confident – well, that suggested that there was more happening than Mathias could see.

He glanced across the road, where he knew Rhiannon was hidden.  The Assassin’s Stealth Skill was too high for Mathias to penetrate, of course, but while the woman had a mercurial nature most of the time, she was steady and reliable in battle.  She’d long ago upgraded her twin daggers with a pair of kukris, and she could do horrific damage with them, especially when attacking by surprise.  She’d wait for Mathias to attack first, though, since he was the tank of their group, despite his preferring using a small, round buckler shield rather than the larger, heavier round or kite shields most sword-and-board fighters used.  Those shields were better against arrows, for sure, but his buckler was actually more useful in combat, and he could fight with his spear two-handed while keeping the buckler strapped to his forearm.

He waited until the creatures were nearly upon them before activating his favorite Ability.  His battle roar struck the uruks like a visible blow as he leaped forward, slamming into the ranks of the uruks knocking the entire group back several steps.  Furious Charge was a signature Ability of his Dragoon Advanced Class and required the use of a heavy spear like his, or some polearm of similar length that could be held across the chest and used to smash an entire rank of enemies at once.  He followed his Charge with Leaping Withdrawal, jumping back several feet to allow him to bring his spear into play.

As he withdrew, a marble-sized ball of fire arced over his head and plunged into the disorganized ranks of the urukkai.  Mathias turned his head as Yevgeny’s Fireball Spell erupted in their midst, splashing brilliant, orange flames in a ten-foot radius.  His spear darted out, the jagged blade at the tip plunging into creatures and opening horrific wounds that bled furiously when he tore the weapon free.

Two of the uruks recovered faster than their brethren and charged Mathias, but his spear wove a wall of steel in front of him that held them at bay.  Unlike most tank Classes, Dragoon focused less on Endurance and more on Strength and Agility, giving him better damage and mobility even in the heavy, black-enameled armor he wore.  He had big bonuses to Stamina, which let him use his special Abilities more often than a normal tank, and while his LP were low compared to other frontline fighter types, his armor and mobility kept him from taking very much damage.

Even so, his job wasn’t to kill the uruks, it was to hold their attention and keep them busy so his party could kill them.  He lunged with the spear, forcing the two uruks facing him to jump back, but rather than follow through with the thrust, he slid back and slammed the hammerlike butt of his staff on the ground with a shout.  His Enraging Taunt rolled across the creatures, and they howled in fury as they scrambled to reach him, shoving one another and even striking their comrades to clear a path to him.  His spear darted out once more, the wicked point holding the creatures at bay. 

A wooden shaft suddenly erupted from a uruk’s throat as the newest member of their party began firing his recurved bow into the fray.  Lannair was technically a Keeper, sort of like an elven Ranger, and he’d specialized with his powerful hunting bow instead of taking the normal Archer Class.  This gave him some advantages, specifically damage bonuses against the Shadowborn and boosts to his Stealth and Tracking Skills, but it also meant he wasn’t quite as good with a bow as a regular Archer might be.  His rate of fire was slower, for one thing, and he had to train his Archery Skill to get lesser forms of the Abilities all Archers got normally.  Still, the extra damage was useful, and the man was as good a scout as Rhiannon was – better in the wilds, really, although Mathias would never tell Rhiannon that.

As if his thoughts had summoned her, the black-clad assassin appeared behind the charging uruks, her wicked kukri knives flashing as she carved into their rear.  Two fell instantly to her attack, and a third dropped as an arc of lightning took it directly in its eye, scorching its flesh and cooking its brain. 

Mathias kept the remaining uruks occupied as the three DPS quickly whittled them down.  The creatures were probably only level four or five, so they didn’t really stand much of a chance against the party, all of whom were level two in their Advanced Classes.  It only took the group a minute to slaughter the creatures, and they each got an almost pathetic amount of XP for the effort.  That was something Aranos had explained long ago: XP was based on risk and effort, not just the power of the creatures slain, and the party hadn’t really faced any risk or had to work particularly hard to kill the uruks, so they didn’t get much of a reward. 

That was fine, though; the party wasn’t out here grinding XP by killing uruks.  They were working on a Quest from the House of Blades, one that Lady Wynathra herself had given House Evenshade.  Apparently, some scouts coming out this way on the High Road hadn’t returned, and Lady Wynathra was concerned enough to give the Quest to Mathias’ House rather than send a troop of her own soldiers to investigate.  Mathias had been happy to accept, and since he and his party were the first among the group to get their Advanced Classes, they were the ones to brave the High Roads. 

The party members emerged from where they’d taken shelter and joined Mathias and Rhiannon near the corpses.  “This is all getting too easy,” the tall, wiry Yevgeny complained, plucking absently at his elaborate, red and gold robe.  “I thought the High Roads were supposed to be a challenge!”

“Be careful what you wish for, Yevgeny,” Gwinivere shook her head, making her long, black curls sway against the back of her elaborate, white robe.  “Aranos told us that the High Roads got more dangerous the farther we went on them, and way worse at night.”  She glanced at Lannair.  “Did you see that waystation we’re supposed to be looking for?”

“No, which means it’s miles ahead,” the Keeper shook his head.  Lannair had chosen to be an elf hybrid rather than a pure-blood; his specific race was called danath and was half-elf, half-dryad.  It gave him rough, dark brown skin and mottled green hair, but otherwise his features were elven.  “We might have to start letting these patrols pass if we want to make it before sundown, Mathias.”

“Don’t you mean, Elder Mathias?” Rhiannon grinned, slipping her cleaned kukris back into their sheaths.  “Maybe if you kiss up to Aranos enough, he’ll give you a better position, like Grand High Poobah or something.”

“Jealousy does not become you, Nightknife,” Mathias grinned, calling the woman by her Advanced Class in elven fashion.  He loved role-playing his characters in-game, and he’d decided that Mathias the Lancer was a stickler for formality and a lover of drama.  It had taken Mathias a while to pick up the subtleties of elven speech – they never used contractions, for example, and never called anyone by name – but now that he’d been practicing it, it just felt right for his character.  “Surely if you cease your impish ways, Lord Evenshade would find some higher calling for you in our House, as well.”

Rhiannon rolled her eyes.  “Maybe, but how would that be any fun?” she scoffed.  “I’d rather party in Hell than be a princess in Heaven, if you know what I mean.”

“I’d come to that party,” Yevgeny laughed, his Russian accent faint but noticeable.  “Seriously, though, do you think the elf lady’s scouts just kept running into these patrols until they died?”

“Probably not,” Gwinivere shook her head.  “I mean, Lady Wynathra said that they scout the High Roads regularly; I’m sure anyone she sent here would have been able to avoid or deal with a few uruks.”

“The Hierophant is probably correct,” Mathias agreed.  “Plus, the Lady would not have given this Quest to House Evenshade unless there was more danger involved than we imagine.”

“I’m not sure I follow that,” Lannair admitted.  “I mean, don’t the elves just kind of toss us their unimportant Quests?”

“That’s how it was at first,” Gwinivere corrected.  “Not anymore, though.  Lorsan – and Mathias, to be honest – have been working pretty hard to remind the elves that we’re a bunch of Travelers who come back from death.  Now, if something’s serious enough that they’re worried about their people dying, they send it our way.”

“The upshot is that we’re probably going to be facing something a lot more dangerous than these little bands of uruks at some point,” Rhiannon summed up.  “Might as well enjoy the easy life while we’ve got it.”

The Assassin’s words were almost prophetic, Mathias soon realized.  The simple uruks started appearing in more organized units, with tanks and archers working together.  After that, they began to encounter groups mixed with the tougher and better armored dabruks, making Mathias work a bit to hold the front line.  Right after the first spellcasting kerruks appeared, Lannair reported that he’d spotted the waystation that would be their resting place for the night.  Taking the tower was almost more than the party could handle, and both Yevgeny and Gwinivere had come very close to running out of SP by the time they finally cleared the top floor.  It came as a huge relief to everyone when they saw the notification that the tower was now a safe zone and that they could make it their new respawn point.

“Well, that was a pain in the ass,” Lannair sighed, slumping down against one wall.  The Keeper had been forced into melee combat by the end of the battle, since Mathias’ focus was on controlling the two towering ogrins that could have turned the party’s unarmored casters into so much paste, and Rhiannon had been busy dealing with the enemy archers.  The man wasn’t as good with his shield and scimitar as he was with his bow, but apparently Keepers got bonuses to learning certain Weapon Masteries, and Lannair was at least competent.

“The battle was difficult,” Mathias admitted, examining the myriad dents and scratches in his heavy armor.  The ogrins hit hard, and their arms were long enough that his spear hadn’t given him much of a reach advantage with them.  “And yet, now that we have claimed this tower, at least we will have a place to sleep the night away.  Lord Evenshade said that the night here is far more dangerous than that day.”

“If that’s true – and I’m guessing it is, since everything else he told us about the High Roads has been true so far – then we need to sleep with a watch,” Gwinivere pointed out.  “I know that the notification said that random monsters will avoid the tower, but we’ve killed a lot of urukkai today.  Those bodies might draw attention to us, and I don’t think we’re safe from someone actively hunting us.”

“I’ll take first watch,” Rhiannon volunteered, moving to one of the doors leading out of the main, central area.  The smaller rooms all had large windows overlooking the road, while the common area in the middle was totally enclosed.  “I’ve got the best Perception of us all, and if anything’s going to try and kill us, it’ll probably do it early on, while our trail’s still fresh.”

“A wise thought, Nightknife,” Mathias agreed.  “The rest of us should probably begin setting up our camp here, where we will be able to hear if our sentry calls out an alarm.”

Yevgeny sighed as Rhiannon vanished.  “And that’s the real reason why she offered to take first watch,” the man grumbled.  “The woman’s incurably lazy, and it got her out of setting up her tent.”

“You’re just pissed that you didn’t think of it first,” Lannair laughed, rising to his feet.

“Well, yeah, of course I am,” Yevgeny snorted.  “I’m just as lazy as she is.”

“Lazy or not, she’s right,” Gwinivere smiled.  “She does have the highest Perception in the party.  It’s better to have her watching the road – especially because whatever took out those scouts might be hunting us right now.  She’ll have the best chance to see it coming.”

Mathias was about to respond when the Assassin’s voice rang out from the next room.  “Matty?  Gwin?  You two should probably get in here.”  The Dragoon glanced at Gwinivere, who shrugged and walked toward the open door.  Mathias followed, ignoring Yevgeny’s complaints that now he and Lannair would have to do all the work themselves.  The Elementalist liked to complain; Mathias had long ago learned to just tune it out.

He walked into the room and saw Rhiannon standing in front of a large window, staring out into the darkening sky.  He picked his way around the rubble covering the floor and stepped to the window, peering outside with a frown.  The room Rhiannon had chosen didn’t overlook the tower’s entrance, as he would have preferred; instead, it looked out in the direction they’d been traveling all day.  The Road wound into the distance, becoming a tiny ribbon of lighter stone against the gray and black backdrop of the Blightlands, faintly reflecting the glow of the sun, which had dropped below the horizon. 

“Why did you choose this room?” he asked curiously.  “I would have picked the one overlooking the door.”

“It was an accident,” Rhiannon sighed.  “I got a little turned around by the winding staircase, I guess.  It doesn’t matter, though, because I’m glad I chose this one.”  She gestured out the window.

Mathias peered into the gathering darkness and shook his head.  “What am I looking at?” he asked, slipping out of character in his curiosity.  “I don’t see anything out there.”

“That,” Rhiannon pointed at the horizon.  “You don’t see that light?”

“You mean the sun?” Mathias snorted.  “Yes, I see the sun…”

“Matty, that’s east,” Gwinivere interrupted him quietly.  “You know, where the sun rises?”

The Dragoon stopped, frowning at the distant glow.  “Damn it, you’re right.  Sorry, Rhee – I guess we both got turned around.”

“No problem,” the leather-clad woman shrugged.  “Now do you see the problem?”

“We can see the glow, but I don’t know what it is,” Gwinivere shook her head.  “I doubt Matty can make it out, either.  What are we looking at?”

“Fires,” Rhiannon said shortly.  “Hundreds of campfires, Gwin.  They’re scattered on both sides of the road and far enough away that I can barely make them out, but that’s what they are.”

“Are you sure?” Mathias asked as a stab of panic and excitement both raced through him.  That many fires could really only mean one thing. 

“I’m sure,” she nodded.  “I mean, I can’t see anyone moving around them or anything, but the fires are too small and too still to be anything else.  Plus, they’re really close together.”

“Well, I think we know what happened to the scouts,” Gwinivere murmured. 

“Yeah,” Mathias sighed.  “We’re going to need to check to be sure, but this probably also explains why the uruks weren’t bothering to hide or take precautions.”  He grimaced.  “Unless I’m mistaken, there are several thousand urukkai out there – and they’re only a couple days away from Eredain.”

Aranos tensed and didn’t lower his hand as a single figure stepped from the forest, bearing an unmistakable aura of threat.  The figure appeared to be male, with a coarse face and chiseled features.  He was short, a couple inches less than 5 feet, but nearly as broad in the shoulders as he was tall.  His eyes were large and deep-set, with extremely bushy, black eyebrows that matched his long, plaited hair.  He was wearing what looked like solid plate armor but had a strange, swirling pattern of grays, browns, and greens that blended well into the forest and stone around them, and he was gripping a large poleaxe with a blade that Aranos recognized as deepsteel.

Aranos activated his Inspection Skill and was rewarded with a quick flash of text that hung over the man’s head:

Bruvrak Heill
Dwarf
Unwounded

“What are you staring at, human?” the dwarf growled, hafting his long axe.  “You’ve not answered my question.  What are you doing with our smarsolm?”

Aranos shook himself out of his startlement.  Part of his amazement was that he’d honestly been expecting the dwarf to have a Scottish accent, like dwarves did in so many games, but Bruvrak’s speech didn’t have what Aranos would call a human accent at all.  His words were guttural and heavy, as if he were used to speaking in a deeper, more rumbling tone.  If Aranos had to equate it to an Earth tongue, he’d say it sounded sort of Russian, in all honesty.  The other reason for his shock was that the man was clean-shaven; stereotypically, dwarves were heavily bearded and took great pride in their facial hair.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.  You mean this oroloke?  How is it yours – was it a pet or something?”

The dwarf snorted derisively.  “Smarsolms are pets to none, human, although I can understand why you’d think that if you’re using its Elven name.  The tree-lovers may say otherwise, but in truth they’re a scourge, and we were hunting this one.  You’ve taken our kill from us!”  The dwarf seemed upset but not angry, not if Aranos was reading his body language and Scent correctly, as if Aranos had done something wrong but not offensive.

“Well, I had a Quest to find and kill this thing,” he replied, readying his mana but not casting a Spell, yet.  While Bruvrak was visible, Aranos’ Tracking Skill highlighted the shadowy figures of four more dwarves hiding in the trees, plus one that was standing back a bit farther than the others.  “It destroyed three villages, and I was asked to make sure it didn’t do it again and bring its head back as proof.  It looks like we were both after the same prey, is all.”

The dwarf scoffed.  “You expect me to believe that a human – and a Wizard, at that – Tracked this smarsolm from the human city, forty miles from here, into Skollheld Heill and killed it…all without a single dwarf spotting you and stopping you?  Don’t lie to me, Wizard, or I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Aranos interrupted, his voice flat as his anger rose.  He understood that the dwarf wasn’t happy to see him, but he’d never responded well to threats.  “You’ll try to take it from me?  You and those other five dwarves that are hiding in the trees will attack me for completing my Quest – just because I happened to kill this thing faster than you?”  He drew himself up and lifted his other hand, turning both hands palm up and channeling more mana into it, letting fire smolder in one palm and a ball of ice rotate slowly in the other.  He hated being threatened and never reacted well to it. 

“Just so you know, I’m pretty sure between my fenrin and me, we can kill all of you; after all, you were sent to hunt this thing, and we killed it by ourselves.  Even if we don’t, though, I’ll take some of you with me, and I’m a Traveler, so I’ll come back, follow your trail back to wherever you’re from, and try again.  And again.  Eventually, I’ll kill all of you, because I’ll always come back.  Will you?”

Aranos took a step forward, his anger slowly rising.  “So, do you want to finish that sentence, Bruvrak Heill, or do you want to start over and try a little bit of courtesy, instead?”

“A Traveler?” a voice spoke from the trees, and suddenly a second dwarf appeared.  This one was a bit taller and larger than Bruvrak, with red hair that closely matched Aranos’ but also lacking the beard the arcane kept expecting.  His armor was nearly identical to the first dwarf’s, but he had a wide, heavy-looking broadsword instead of a poleaxe.  “I’d ask you to prove it, human, but no fool would go about bragging that he’s a Traveler.”  He eyed Aranos carefully.  “How did you know that we were hiding in the trees?  You shouldn’t have been able to see through our armor’s Camouflage Ability.”

“Same way I followed this oroloke from Stoneleague to here,” the Sorcerer shrugged.  “Tracking Skill.  I spotted your trail up in the mountains a few peaks back, and once I had your Scent, I could tell where you were.”

“That’s quite the Tracking Skill,” the dwarf laughed.  “Describe the place where you saw our trail, and maybe I’ll believe you.”

“I don’t care if you believe me,” Aranos replied flatly, annoyed that the dwarf thought Aranos had to prove something to him.  “I came here to complete a Quest, and that’s what I’m doing.  If you want to fight, let’s get it over with so I can take this thing’s head and get back to Stoneleague.  If you don’t, leave me alone to do what I came here for.”

The dwarf glanced down at the partially Harvested corpse.  “You’re not doing it very well,” the man said a bit scornfully.  “You claim to be some Master Tracker, but you can’t Harvest worth a damn.”  The dwarf’s eyes suddenly gleamed.  “We could do the Harvesting for you, in exchange for, say, our pick of what we get off the beast.  It’ll be cleaner, and we can get more than you…”

“No,” Aranos replied shortly, interrupting the man as his irritation rose.  “I’d rather do it myself, thanks.”

“Why?” Bruvrak scoffed.  “You’d rather butcher this smarsolm’s carcass than share with dwarves, is that it?”

“No, it’s because you’re rude, you’ve threatened me, and quite frankly I don’t trust you,” Aranos replied flatly.  “Now, if you’re going to start something, get it over with.  If you’re not, go away; either way, I’m leaving with my bounty.”  At his words, Silma stepped forward, her teeth bared as a low, rumbling growl rose from her throat.  In return, the red-headed dwarf gripped his sword’s hilt, while the black-haired one set his feet and hefted his axe.  With a silent snarl of frustration, Aranos summoned more of his mana; a quick Ravaging Burst into the trees, multicast with a pair of Void Paralyses on the two in front of him should end this quickly enough…

“Lorag, Bruvrak, stand down and take two steps back,” a third voice rang out, this one from the figure hanging back behind the others.  “Don’t do anything stupid, here.  The rest of you, step out into the light; we’re making the Wizard nervous, and I don’t think that’s healthy for anyone.”  Aranos heard some grumbling, but the other two nearby dwarves stepped into view.  One had dark brown hair and a short, well-groomed beard with no mustache, while the other had black hair similar to Bruvrak’s but a rounder face.  The first was armed with a wide-bladed spear, while the other carried a bardiche, a polearm that looked like a cleaver-shaped axe on a long pole. 

The last dwarf who emerged from the trees had long, white-blond hair pulled into three plaits and was obviously a woman from the shape of her armor.  She had a heavy, hook-backed warhammer in one hand and a small, round shield strapped to the other arm.  “Greetings, Wizard,” the woman inclined her head, speaking nearly flawless Human with only a tiny accent.  “My name’s Rardrobena Heill, Priestess of the Hearthstone.  Might I have your name?”

“Oran, Master of Elements,” he inclined his head, but the woman replied with a chuckle.

“Wizard, you’ve not lied to us this entire time, in all you’ve said, and much of it is frankly hard to believe,” she replied archly.  “Why start now?”

Aranos narrowed his eyes and reached out with his Sense Mana Skill.  Too late, he felt the waves of Mind mana rolling off the woman and belatedly cast his Shield Mind Spell; while she likely wouldn’t have been able to read his thoughts thanks to his Fortitude Skill, apparently, she could tell if he was lying or not.  “Because my real name is somewhat well known, and I’m not sure it would only draw friendly attention,” he said evenly.  “I’m ready to defend myself, but I’d rather we end this peacefully, if possible, so I’m being a bit cautious.  Does it matter what my real name is?”

Rardrobena shrugged.  “You said it yourself, Wizard.  You killed a smarsolm, just you and that giant wolf.  If you can do that, we might not be much of a threat to you, but you could be a serious threat to us.  You’re asking for us to trust your words; I’m asking you to earn that trust through honesty, and trust that we won’t use the information against you.”

Aranos stared at the woman, feeling the waves of Mind mana pouring off her, battering against the fortress of his mind.  “Turn off whatever Spell you’re trying to use to convince me, then,” he said flatly.  “It won’t work on me, and it’s not the kind of thing that breeds trust, is it?”

The woman frowned, but Aranos saw the aura of magic die down at once.  “That was a Spell of the Stone,” she explained.  “It’s designed to make people feel calm; I was trying to control tempers, not minds.  Still, I’m surprised you could sense it; most Wizards have difficulty feeling the powers of the Stone unless they’re tied to them.  Are you a Mindbender?”

“No, and I don’t know what you mean about the powers of the Stone.  I can use the Mind aspect, if that’s what you’re asking, but it’s not my main focus.”

“Aspects, yes.  That’s what humans call them.  The Stone grants its priestesses more powerful aspects, such as those that can calm the mind, but it forbids us to use them to command or control others.  You’ve nothing to fear from me.”

“I know I don’t.  I’m pretty much immune to mental influences, so don’t bother trying to calm my mind, as you said,” he prevaricated slightly.  His Fortitude Skill made him highly resistant to mental attacks but not truly immune.  As he looked at the discomfited woman and her retinue, he took a deep breath; he was handling this all wrong. He was letting his anger control him, and that rarely gave him a good outcome.  He was the intruder in their Realm, and they had the right to protect it and seek out his identity.  The first two dwarves had seemed overly aggressive, but for all Aranos knew, that was just how dwarves behaved.  As the stranger in the strange land, it was his responsibility to adapt to them, not theirs to behave a certain way for him.

“Look, you’re right about trust, but I’m not willing to share my actual identity, I’m sorry,” he told her as his irritation melted away.  “As I said, my name’s somewhat well known, and while it’s also mostly well-liked, some of the things I’ve done to earn that reputation may have made me enemies – and I don’t know you.

“At the same time, this is your land, and I understand that you’re protective of it.  I promise you that I mean no harm to you or any other dwarves in Skollheld Heill; I just came here for this bounty, and when I’m done, I’ll leave.  Okay?”

The woman sighed.  “While I hate an unsatisfied curiosity, that seems fair,” she nodded.  “Fine, I won’t press.  I got enough truth to know that this is your kill, fairly made, and we have no claim to it.  So long as you take what you’ve earned and nothing more, we’ll not stand in your way.  It’s a bit disheartening for us, is all.”

“Why?” he asked curiously.  She glanced at him, her eyes suspicious, and he continued.  “I’m not really trying to pry, but it sounds like you’re on a Quest, as well, and maybe one with a big failure penalty.  As I said, this is your land, not mine, and as a guest, if I can help, I’d like to.”

She looked at him cautiously.  “I wouldn’t say a big penalty.  It’s significant, but only to those of the Stone.”  She eyed him up and down, then shrugged.  “Can’t see the harm in telling you.  This smarsolm was a female and going through heat.  Happens to them about once every decade, and when it does, they go crazy.  Fly around and kill anything that moves, then use the corpses to build a mating nest to attract a male.”

“That explains why it attacked the villages,” Aranos nodded.  “And why there were only body parts left behind.  I thought it ate the rest.”

“Swallows them and regurgitates them later,” the woman shook her head.  “Well, she hit our lands, too.  Raided some of our mountain steadings and took our people, same as yours.  A hunt was called, and this lot was chosen to join me on it.  We found its breeding nest a couple miles north of here and backtracked it here, although it took us a bit longer than it seems to have you, and we lost young Radmec to the Shadowborn two days ago.”

She grimaced and glanced at the others.  “For most of these boys, it’s a big deal.  Killing this thing would have proven their worth to the Stone Priestesses, and they would have been able to join a household.  That’s a moot point now, though, since they didn’t kill it, or even help to kill it.  That’s why Bruvrak’s so upset.”  The black-haired dwarf grunted but didn’t look in Aranos’ direction.

Rardrobena ignored the dwarf and continued.  “That’s not the only reason we’re out here, though – or even the most important.  The smarsolm’s attacks stopped once it found a mate, and that’s when we started hunting it.  We knew that it would have returned to its den to wait until it was ready to deposit its eggs.”  Seeing Aranos’ confused look, she explained.  “Smarsolms are a small, weak breed of dragon, Wizard, and like all dragons, they keep their eggs in their bodies until they’re almost ready to hatch.  We’re here for two purposes: to Harvest as much of the creature’s hide, teeth, and claws as we can, and to take those eggs.”

“Why?” Aranos asked curiously.  “He said that smarsolms aren’t pets…”

“They aren’t.  They can’t be tamed using Animal Handling like most beasts can; it’s against their nature.  They can, however, be magically Bonded, the way you and your wolf seem to be, and when Bonded, they can be ridden and are fierce protectors of their Clan.  Solmriddars are the elite of dwarven forces and the only dwarven males who can co-claim a household.  Skollheld Heill has never had many of them, and that’s our primary task: to bring back the eggs so we can Bond the creatures within before they hatch and turn nasty.  Lorag, here, is hoping to make that Bond, and killing the mother seems to make it much more likely.”  She shrugged.  “If we return empty-handed, we’ll all lose some reputation, is all.”

Aranos frowned, considering her words.  “I’ll tell you what,” he said slowly.  “I’ll let you Harvest the creature and keep half the teeth, half the claws, and all the eggs – except one.”  She looked at him suspiciously, and he shrugged.  “A gift for a friend.  And I want the hide – and the head, for my Quest.”

She looked at him curiously.  “Before, you didn’t want to let us Harvest the smarsolm.  Now you do?”

“You explained what you wanted and why, and I don’t see any reason not to help you with that,” he shrugged.  “I don’t have any need for all of the eggs, teeth, and claws, just some of them.  I’ll take what I need, and you can have the rest, since it sounds like you need it more than I do.  Do we have a deal?”

Rardrobena examined him for a few moments more.  “No,” she finally shook her head.  “I appreciate the generosity, Wizard, but it would leave me beholden to a strange human whose motivations I don’t know.  Maybe if I knew more about you, we could deal, but for the moment, I’d rather take the reputation loss than possibly endanger the Skollheld.”

“That’s understandable,” Aranos said slowly.  “I might be willing to share my identity with you – and only you – but you’d have to swear not to tell anyone else.”

“I’m honor-bound to report this incident to the Priestesses of the Deepstone,” she told him.  “Whatever you tell me, they’ll know.  They’ll tell the Mistress of the Heartstone, as well, who rules over the Skollheld.  So, no secret you tell me is safe.”

“That’s very honest of you,” he admitted, his mind racing.  “How grateful would the Skollheld be if I shared this bounty with you?”

“Somewhat.  You’d gain reputation and could probably negotiate the right to purchase our goods, if you wanted, albeit at a stiff price.”

Aranos frowned.  He knew that at some point, he was going to have to deal with the dwarves to complete Geltheriel’s Cleansing Quest.  The dwarves had actually constructed the Arcane Doors, after all, and he’d probably need their knowledge to repair them.  Any reputation he could get with them would be useful – but letting the Priestess know his actual identity could be painting a target on his back. 

It came down to trust, he supposed.  It seemed that Rardrobena had a strong sense of honor and duty, and she wouldn’t accept a gift from him without feeling like she owed him.  That meant she had to trust him, which he understood; he wouldn’t want to be indebted to a stranger, either.  If he wanted her to trust him, he supposed he had to extend a tiny bit of trust to her.

“I’m going to cast a Spell so that no one can hear us,” he told her.  “I’m not attacking any of you.”

“If you say so,” the woman shrugged.  “Wizard, most of my Spells are granted by the Stone, and it seems that you’re highly resistant to them, if not immune.  If you wanted to kill me, you could have done so repeatedly.  I appreciate the warning, but I understand that there’s little I can do to stop you from whatever you’re going to do right now.”

He nodded and wove his shield of air around the pair, and instantly the sounds of the mountains died away.  The woman looked around curiously and stared back at Aranos.  “That was quickly cast, Wizard.  I didn’t even realize you were doing anything.  Do you cast all your Spells like that?”

“Mostly,” he nodded.  “I’m not really a Wizard, though.  My name’s Aranos, Lord Evenshade, the Grand Liberator and First Sorcerer.”  He quickly shifted his Titles so that she could read them when she Inspected him.

“Human nobility, then?  Don’t know why you’re worried about that; we of the Stone don’t care a whit for human Titles,” she grinned, then suddenly frowned.  “Wait, Lord Evenshade?  I saw that notification; Lord Evenshade is the one that Liberated Antas.  I thought you were an elf!”

“I was an aleen,” he hedged.  “I’m disguised as a human right now.  But I’m a Sorcerer, not a Wizard.”

“Makes no difference to me,” she shrugged.  “Those are surfacer Classes.  In the Skollhelds, only the Priestesses can use magic, and it’s granted to us by the Stone.  All surfacer Wizards look the same to me.”

“Well, it’s a different Class,” he grinned at the woman.  “I suppose that doesn’t matter.  What does matter is that now you know who I am, so you understand why I’m a bit more careful with my identity.  If people knew who I was and that I was the Heart-bound of Antas, they’d either be trying to kill me or be constantly trying to convince me to let them into the Library.”

“So, the Library still exists?” she mused, rubbing her smooth chin.  “What of the clanholds?”

“The what?”

“The clanholds,” she repeated.  “Where the dwarves once lived below the city.  Are they still there?”

“I honestly don’t know,” he confessed.  “I haven’t spent much time in the tunnels below the city.  They used to be filled with undead, so I’m sure whatever’s down there has been damaged, but it could probably be repaired.”

“That, Wizard – or whatever you are – is probably worth more to the Skollheld than a dozen smarsolm eggs,” the woman grinned.  “I can’t tell you too much – clan business, you’ll understand – but I can assure you that the Mistress of the Heartstone would be eager to discuss allowing us to repair and occupy some of those clanholds.”

“Any idea how I could meet with them to discuss it?” he grinned. 

The woman reached into a pouch at her side and withdrew a small, octagonal stone about two inches across.  The stone was mottled with various shades of lavender and purple and had small veins of what he recognized as truesilver gleaming in an oddly runic pattern.  “This is a glyphstone,” she told him.  “If your Tracking Skill is truly what you say it is, you should be able to locate the entrance to our Skollheld.  This stone will grant you an audience with a Priestess of the Deepstone.  It’s all I can offer you, and there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to speak with you…”  The woman snorted.  “Except that I can almost guarantee she will, after the report I’m bringing back.” 

Aranos took the stone.  “Thanks,” he smiled, placing it in his pack.  He returned his Title to “Master of Elements” and lowered his air barrier.  “So, do we have a deal with the oroloke?”

“We do, Wizard,” she spoke, holding up a clenched fist, and Aranos hesitantly did the same.  The woman pressed her knuckles into his.  “We have a bargain, sworn on the Stone.  We will Harvest the smarsolm in exchange for half of the salvaged items and al the eggs but one.  The entirety of the hide and its head are yours.”  She smiled at him.  “And my thanks for your generosity.”

The woman turned and growled at the other dwarves in a throaty, rumbling language that reminded Aranos of grinding stone.  The men seemed a bit perturbed by her words, but she said something that sounded like stone breaking, and they all jumped before moving over to the oroloke’s carcass and falling on it with a vengeance.

“Men,” she growled, shaking her head.  “They always need to be told what to do.  Almost like children, really.”

Aranos wisely held his tongue at that comment.  After all, there he was in the middle of the world’s most elaborate game, pretending to be a Sorcerer.  He couldn’t really argue with her point.

The trip back was faster and simpler, since Aranos no longer had to Track any quarry.  They followed almost the same trail on the way to Stoneleague, and Silma was much surer along it the second time.  It had taken them nearly three hours to reach the oroloke’s lair; it only took two for them to finally exit the Blightlands and step foot back in the lands claimed by Stoneleague. 

As they crossed out of the Blightlands, Silma glanced at Aranos.  I’m hungry, pack leader.  I’m going to find one of those cows we saw earlier. 

Aranos grinned at her.  Sounds good, but just FYI, humans get really upset when people take their cows.  You might want to be careful and not take too many from any one farmer.

As if I’m afraid of them, she scoffed.  They ran just from the sight of me earlier.  They’ll do the same again.

They will, but they’ll also send word to the city and ask for help.  I know you can handle a few guards and Rangers, but it’ll be a bother.  If you spread out which herds you’re hunting each day, it’ll take longer for any of them to get upset enough to complain.

Fine.  I only need one of the animals, anyway.  I’ll be cautious.  I’ll either return before dawn or, if I can’t get back in the city, I’ll find somewhere safe to rest out here.

Aranos passed through the Lower Gate with much less difficulty than the party had coming in the Upper Gate.  The guards at the southern gate didn’t even bother to search his pack; he guessed that the vast majority of Quests took Adventurers to the north, and it probably wasn’t worth hassling farmers and peddlers for a copper or two in bribes.  One guard did take notice of him, however, for a different reason.

“Didn’t you leave here with a horse?” the woman asked shrewdly.  “What happened to it?”

“Nothing,” Aranos shrugged.  “I took her out for some exercise.  She’ll play outside for a while and come back later, when she’s ready.”  Seeing their incredulous looks, he laughed.  “She’s a Bonded Companion, so I’m not worried about her running off or anything.  Worst case scenario, she’ll find some farmer who’ll feed her, and I’ll go get her in the morning.”

“A horse?” another guard scoffed.  “Who Bonds a horse?  Seriously?”

“Someone who fights on horseback and wants to be perfectly linked to their mount,” an older guard answered quietly.  “It’s a wise choice for someone like that, isn’t it?”

The woman cleared her throat.  “Well, we’ll pass word to let it through if it comes back,” she assured him.  “Thank you for explaining.”

The sun was lowering in the sky as Aranos walked into the Black Blade to find the others waiting for him.  “Welcome back,” Geltheriel told him as he stepped inside the tavern, blinking to let his eyes adjust to the darker room.  “You were longer than I’d anticipated.”

“Yeah, I got a Quest at the Adventurers’ Guild, and Silma and I were out handling it.”

“And how did that go?” the woman asked.

“Well.  In fact, I’ve got to go turn it in.”  He turned to Malcolm.  “Where’s Retta?  I was hoping she’d take me back to the Adventurers’ Guild.”

“I’ve got her cleaning up in back,” Malcolm replied.  The man looked uncomfortable.  “Oran, I don’t know if it’s a good idea for her to guide you, at least not to places where she’ll be left alone.  The Scroungers will still be on the lookout for her.”

“He’s right,” McBane agreed.  “This is the safest place she could be right now, really.”

Aranos sighed.  “Yeah, I can see that.  She’s just really good at finding the quickest ways around the city.”

“That’s what Filchers do,” McBane laughed.  “It’s how they avoid being caught.  They know every back door, side alley, and tiny crawlspace in the city.  The guards don’t even bother chasing them if they run off, because they know there’s zero chance of catching them.”  He shrugged.  “I’ll take you, though.  I don’t know the city as well as Retta does, but I know a few shortcuts.  What’s the hurry?”

“Timed Quest.  I have to turn it in by sundown.”

“We should get going, then.”

“We’ll join you in a bit,” Phil told him.  “Malcolm will like having his common room back for a night, if nothing else.”

Would it be possible for me to join you? Geltheriel asked Aranos silently through their ring.  It has been – odd adventuring without you, Oathbinder.  The humans can be difficult to fathom.  Cheerful, but difficult. 

“Theria, would you join us?” he asked her aloud.  “An extra blade can’t hurt, after all.”

“Of course,” she smiled, and an expression of gratitude flashed across her face.  “We’ll see the rest of you soon enough.”

Marie wasn’t there to greet him when he entered, but he didn’t really need her since he knew where he was going.  The tavern was more crowded, likely filled with Adventurers who’d completed their daily Quests and now had some extra gold to spend.  That was a big part of the draw of playing these games, after all.  Gold was pretty and all, but spending it on stuff was just, plain fun.  He worked his way through the crowd, avoiding the rowdier tables, and headed into the back, bypassing the lines of Adventurers waiting to turn in their Quests and get their rewards. 

“Where are you going?” McBane asked him curiously. 

“To see Ryder.  He’s the one that gave me the Quest.”

The Rogue sighed.  “Of course, he did.  He never gives out Quests, hardly sees anyone, so of course you got one from him.”

“Welcome to my life, McBane,” Geltheriel grinned.  Her eyes sparkled as she glanced at Aranos.  “In fact, you can buy me a drink and I can tell you more about it.  It’ll be fun to talk about Oran when he’s not here, right?”

McBane laughed.  “Wait, a drink?  I’ve only seen you drink water.  I figured you don’t drink alcohol.  I assumed it was – something about where you come from.”

“Of course I drink,” she snorted.  “I just don’t drink the swill Malcolm was offering.  You probably shouldn’t either, if you don’t like the Hung Over debuff.  The lower quality of alcohol you drink, the worse the debuff the next day.”

Aranos left the two of them discussing the quality of Malcolm’s ale and walked toward the simple, wooden door to Ryder’s office.  He got a few funny looks, but no one made a move to stop him – at least, not until he was very nearly at the door.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?”  Aranos turned and saw a brawny man walking toward him, an angry scowl on his face.  The man stood several inches taller than Aranos and was dressed in a leather halter that crossed his otherwise bare chest and, thankfully, a pair of soft leather trousers rather than the fur loincloth Aranos had been half-expecting.  He had a huge warhammer strapped to his back in a manner that looked seriously uncomfortable, which might explain the sour expression on his face.  “You can’t go back there!”

“Guildmaster Ryder is expecting me,” Aranos smiled.  “I’ve got a Quest to turn in to him.”

The big man scoffed.  “Right, sure you do.”  He flexed his large muscles and took a menacing step forward.  “Look, my job’s to make sure people like you don’t bother the Guildmaster.  Make it easy on both of us and go stand in line like everyone else.”

Aranos sighed and pulled up a strand of void mana, wrapping it around the hulking brute, whose startled face was suddenly frozen in place.  “Sorry about that, but I’m on a time constraint with this Quest.  I’ll buy you a beer or something later to apologize.”  The man’s face was outraged, but Aranos left him standing there, helpless in the grip of his Void Paralysis, then went up to Ryder’s door and knocked firmly.

“Come on in,” he heard the old man’s voice say tiredly.  Aranos opened the door and walked inside, enjoying the startled look on the man’s face.  After a moment, though, the old man’s eyes narrowed.  “So, you’re back, eh?  Couldn’t do it in a day, so you’re giving up?  Or are you asking me to extend the timeline now that you know how hard it is to travel in the mountains?”

“Neither,” Aranos replied, unslinging his pack and walking over to the desk.  “I’m turning my Quest in.”  He glanced down at the scattered papers covering the wooden surface.  “You might want to pick those up.”

Ryder scoffed.  “What, did you kill some wolves and think I’ll believe they destroyed three villages?”  The old man leaned back in his chair with a sigh.  “Look, Oran, there’s no shame in admitting you need a few days to get this done.  After the King lost an entire company, we knew this would take some time.  It’s one reason why no one in the Guild wanted it.  Go have a drink, start fresh in the morning, and I’ll see you in a few days.”

Aranos shrugged.  “I warned you; don’t blame me for this.”  He reached into his pack and summoned the oroloke’s severed head.  Fortunately, things didn’t have to fit through the pack’s opening to go inside it or come back out.  The massive skull appeared the moment his hand left the pack, materializing on the Guildmaster’s desk in a spray of silver blood and gore. 

The dwarves had done a good job Harvesting the corpse; far better than Aranos would have, in any case.  They’d pulled every last tooth and talon, and they’d stripped the hide completely off the beast, including removing it from the monster’s head.  They’d cut out its vocal cords, which could apparently make excellent bowstrings, and taken a large chunk of the whiplike tail.  The hide, half the teeth and fangs, and one of the vocal cords was sitting in Aranos’ pack along with a single, leathery egg about the size of an orange.  He’d let the dwarves have the rest; apparently, the creature’s meat was somewhat toxic, so that had been left behind to rot.

That excellent efficiency, though, left the skull a skinless, gory, dripping mess.  The creature’s silver-gray blood oozed from it and coated it in a thick, slimy film as it began to coagulate on contact with the air.  Its gums were torn and shredded, and the inside of its mouth was a mass of dried blood from where the cords had been removed.  The head was huge and covered the entirety of the desk, which creaked and groaned alarmingly under the weight of the massive skull, which had been much harder to remove than Aranos had expected it to be.

Rardrobena had explained a bit more about the oroloke while the dwarves worked.  Apparently, the creatures were distant relatives of dragons but were unintelligent – and much less dangerous.  They spent much of their lives hibernating in their shallow dens, coming out every few months to eat.  Their teeth and claws grew at a prodigious rate, though, so whenever the oroloke woke, it would first find nearby ore outcroppings and claw and chew at these, wearing down their teeth and claws so that they were useful again.  The oroloke then ate the chunks of ore it tore free, and that ore was deposited on its scales, talons, and teeth. 

Those heavy metals made the creature’s flesh toxic, but more importantly, it also gave it metal-plated claws and hide.  That was why the oroloke had torn through Silma’s truesilver armor so easily; it had plenty of truesilver in its teeth and claws, along with other metals that seemed even harder.  That was also why he, Silma, and the human company had all been unable to effectively penetrate its hide, at least not until his Dust mana had eroded the metal coating the scales.  Even its bones had a thin coating of metal that Aranos had to cut through to take its head, although there wasn’t enough to make them worth Harvesting.  If the monster’s bones had been solid metal, it probably wouldn’t have been able to fly, after all.

The Guildmaster’s response to the skull’s sudden appearance wasn’t quite what Aranos had been expecting.  He’d meant to startle the old man in repayment for the patronizing way he’d spoken to Aranos, but he hadn’t taken into account the man’s apparent training and reflexes.  Ryder leaped nimbly backward as the huge head appeared before him, doing a flip in midair and landing lightly on his feet.  At the same time, Aranos felt a series of heavy thumps against his Arcane Armor and watched as it lost 50% of its defensive strength in a single instant as six black-bladed throwing knives slammed into it and clattered to the floor.

Aranos stayed carefully still, as the Guildmaster crouched menacingly across the room with another brace of knives fanned out in his hand, ready to throw.  As the old man realized that the Sorcerer wasn’t attacking, though, he slowly lowered the blades and straightened.  “Don’t do that,” the man muttered, wiggling his hand and making the blades vanish.  “I could have killed you – in fact, that probably should have.  Nice armor, Oran.” 

“I thought it was,” Aranos muttered.  “You did a number on it, though.”

“Well, that’s what you get for startling me,” the Guildmaster chuckled.  He stepped forward and peered at the severed head.  “Holy shit,” he muttered.  “Is that – a dragonelle?  Did you go out, find a dragonelle, kill it, and bring its head back to me…in one day?”

“That’s what you asked for,” Aranos agreed.  “Sorry for startling you.  I did try to warn you, though.”

“That you did,” Ryder nodded, running a hand through his hair.  “I should have listened; that was two hours’ worth of paperwork, ruined.  Although I guess I could send the King his tax forms covered with dragon blood.  It might get me out of paperwork for a while.”  The man chuckled and examined the bloody skull.  “You Harvested its hide and teeth?” he asked.  “You did a good job.”

“Yep, along with the claws, vocal cords, tail, and some eggs.”

“Damn.  Pretty thorough.  Okay, you completed the Quest, and this thing will make a good trophy once we get it touched up with fake hide and teeth.”  The Guildmaster touched the skull and grinned as it disappeared.  “And you did it in one day.  Hell, now I have to offer you real Quests, don’t I?  How did you know you could do it so fast?”

“High Tracking Skill and a great Flight Spell,” Aranos smiled.  “Oh, and I found the remains of the soldiers who’d gone after it.  I buried them and collected anything recognizable or valuable; I thought the King might want to give the stuff back to their families.  You want it?”

“Yeah,” the old man nodded.  “You’re right; better to give their families closure than to always leave them wondering.”  He glared suspiciously at the arcane.  “Wait – no severed heads or anything, right?  You’ve stained my desk enough as it is.”

“No, nothing like that,” Aranos laughed as he pulled out the jewelry, pieces of armor, and personal items, all save the journal.  That was interesting, and he wanted to read it; he could always turn it in later.

“Well, that merits an extra reward,” Ryder sighed.  “Here you go.”  Aranos silently exulted as a notification appeared in his vision:

Quest Completed: The Hunt is Called!
You found the oroloke and gave its head to Guildmaster Ryder.

Objective: Find the creature, kill it, and return with its head.

Difficulty: B

Reward: 3,000 XP, 15 gold links, +500 reputation with Stoneleague, +500 reputation with the Adventurers’ Guild, +250 reputation with King Hugin.

Secondary Objective Completed: Complete the Quest before sundown.

Reward: Additional Quests become available, +1,000 reputation with the Adventurers’ Guild. 

Hidden Objective Completed: Find and honor the remains of the lost soldiers.

Reward: 3,000 XP, +500 reputation with Stoneleague, +500 reputation with Adventurers’ Guild, +1,000 reputation with King Hugin.

Congratulations: You Have Leveled Up!
Sorcerer Ascendant Level: 10
Current XP: 177,524/190,000
Int +5, Wis +5, Cha +5, +5 Stat points

I am without peer!  Without sane peer, anyway…

Congratulations!
For reaching level 10 in your Advanced Class, you can choose a Class Perk!

Select from the following:

Arcane Aura: You radiate an aura out to 10’ that resists hostile magic.  All hostile Spells take a penalty equal to [(Charisma-10) / 4] % to damage and duration to you and any allies within your aura.

Great Channeler: You can channel Spells with heightened efficiency.  Your Mana Mastery Skill level is doubled for the purposes of determining SP cost and Spell damage when channeling a Spell

Improved Multicasting: The maximum number of Spells you can cast at once is increased by 50% (rounded down, minimum of +1)

Piercing Magic: Magical resistance of any sort is 50% less effective versus your Spells.  This applies only to Spells that directly target a creature, not those that affect an area or multiple creatures at once.

True Elementalist: You gain a percentage bonus equal to double your Class level to Spell power, casting speed, and opposed checks to all Elemental-based Spells and take a penalty equal to half your Class level to all other Spells.

He filed away the last two notifications to deal with later, when he was meditating for the evening.  The level was awesome, and so was the Class Perk, but neither of them were immediately demanding his attention.

“So, this has to be a story, Oran,” the Guildmaster shook his head.  “How about I buy you a drink out in the bar and you tell it to me?”

“I’d love it, but I’m meeting the rest of my party here.  They had their own Quests today, and we’ve all got stories to swap.”

“I’ll take the stories, but I’m only buying you the drink,” the Guildmaster chuckled.  “Go on, I’ll meet you in a bit, after I get this cleaned up.”  He grinned evilly.  “Or maybe I can ask Brutus to do it.  The lout’s appointed himself my keeper for some reason.  Might as well make good use of it.”

“Big guy, lots of muscles, barely any clothes?” Aranos asked.  “Yeah, he’s outside – probably still trapped in my paralysis Spell.  He wouldn’t let me come back here, and I didn’t have time to argue.  Sorry about that.”

The old man rolled his eyes.  “Idiot,” he muttered.  “Him, not you.  Anyone he can keep out isn’t a danger to me, and anyone who’s dangerous to me, he can’t do shit about.”  He shook his head.  “Do me a favor and release him when you leave, then tell him I need him to fetch another barrel of the special ale.”  Aranos’ eyebrow rose curiously, and the old man snorted.  “It’s not special, it’s just in a brewery on the other side of the city, and it gets him out of my hair for a bit.  The brewer’s a friend and keeps Brutus cooling his heels for a while each time.  Brutus gets some minor XP for the fetch Quest, and I get some peace and quiet.”

“Sounds like a win-win,” Aranos agreed as he stepped to the door.  “See you in a bit.”

Chapter 9

Brutus wasn’t very happy when Aranos released him, but giving the big man the fetch Quest seemed to somewhat mollify him, as did the fact that Aranos had entered the office and left without injury.  The Sorcerer had a feeling that the man might try to cause trouble later on, but he was hoping not to be in the city long enough for that to be an issue.

He walked back into the tavern and found that the rest of the party had joined McBane and Geltheriel.  The Shadedancer pulled out an empty chair next to her, and Aranos sat down with a sigh.

“Is everything okay?” she asked quietly.

“Mostly.  Today was a bit frustrating, but I’ll tell you about that later.” He looked at the woman.  “How did your day go?”

“It was uneventful,” she shrugged, looking across the table at Martina, who was chatting with Meridian but turned when she heard her name.  “Martina was able to get us a Bounty Quest to hunt the kondinyas that come down from the mountains.  We had to kill twenty of them, which wasn’t much of a challenge, really.  I only got a couple hundred XP and a silver out of it, but it was better than spending the day in the city.”

“She also spent the day running Martina ragged practicing her Stealth and Archery Skills,” Hector laughed.  “She’s quite the taskmaster, Theria is.”

“True, but I got some decent Skill ranks from it,” Martina pointed out.  “I’m not complaining about that.”

“It’s what your Class trainer should have done,” the elf explained sourly.  “Instead, it seems that you got just enough training to not die and then were cast off on your own.  If I knew who taught you that way, I’d have a few things to say to them.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, because she’s got a much better trainer,” Phil spoke up from farther down the table.  “Right, Theria?”

The elf sighed.  “Yes, it seems I don’t have much choice but to finish your training correctly, Martina,” she shook her head.  “We’ll repeat the Bounty Quest tomorrow and work more on your Stealth.  I know you think that it’s good, but…well, I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“How did turning your Quest in go?” Aranos asked Phil, speaking loudly to be heard over the background buzz. 

“Patriarch Apollon was very happy,” Phil laughed, standing and touching the golden hilt of a new broadsword that hung at his side.  “I got this in addition to the Quest reward.  It’s specifically meant for – my Class.  I’d still like you to look and see if you can upgrade it any, though.”

“Sure,” Aranos nodded, glancing at the other members of Phil’s original party.  “What about the rest of you?  Get anything good?”

“A shiny, new crossbow,” Longfellow grinned.  “Scaling item, too; it does damage based on my Bow Mastery Skill.”

“Some sweet armor,” McBane spoke up, showing off the mottled gray and black leather cuirass he was now wearing.  “Big upgrade.”

“I didn’t get anything sparkly,” Meridian pouted.  “I got some new Spells to go with my Advanced Class, though.  My first area heal; I’m excited to use it!”

“We were planning to come back here tomorrow and pick up a Quest or two,” Phil told Aranos.  “You want to come with?”

“It’ll depend on what Ryder offers me,” the Sorcerer hedged, quickly explaining his Quest and the unique reward he’d finagled from the Guildmaster.  “So, it’ll depend on if he’s actually got a Quest for me; maybe you’d rather join me if it’s a good one.”

“You met Eagle-Eye Ryder?” Longfellow asked a bit reverently.  “Mate, he’s a bloody legend!  He started as an Archer and has an Evolved Class, the step above Advanced ones.  He once killed an actual dragon by shooting it in its bleeding eye!”

“Well, he’s supposed to be coming out to buy me a drink once he’s done cleaning up, so you’ll get to meet him.”  Aranos grinned.  “I messed up his desk a bit by dumping a giant skull on it…”

“And he didn’t even have the courtesy to apologize, at least not for the mess,” Ryder’s voice groused as silence suddenly settled over the room.  The Guildmaster glanced around.  “Aren’t you people busy drinking or something?  The Guild has to make the coin we give you back somehow!”  The conversations slowly returned, but they were much quieter than before, and Aranos noticed a lot of glances being sent toward their group.

The Guildmaster grabbed a chair from a nearby table and sat down, ignoring Longfellow’s look of obvious hero-worship.  “What are you drinking, Oran?”

The Sorcerer grinned.  “What’s the most expensive thing you serve?”

“Dwarven Firewhisky, you bastard,” the old man grumped, beckoning to the young man hustling between tables and ordering two of the drinks.  “Three gold per glass because it’s so expensive to get.  We have to wait for the dwarves to send a party down from the mountains, since no one knows where they live.”  He looked at Aranos.  “You owe me a story in return for that drink, though.  How the hell did you Track that thing in a day – and how did you kill it?  Dragonelles are nearly immune to magic!”

“Well, I started by going to the first village on my map,” he began, spilling out his story, only leaving out the parts about Silma but mentioning the dwarves.  No one would believe that his horse Companion – as Silma was supposed to be – would have teleported onto a flying oroloke and tried to bite it, and he didn’t want to reveal Silma’s true nature.  The dwarves, however, made his story more believable, since he’d already told Portia in the Guild Square that he didn’t have a high Harvesting Skill.  He had to assume anything he said aloud would be known in the city, and any discrepancies in his story would be a starting place for someone to figure out who he really was.

When his drink came, he paused to take a sip.  The liquor was very smooth, had a smoky flavor to it, and true to its name burned his throat all the way down.  He coughed a bit after the first sip, noticing Ryder’s sly grin, and took a moment to glance around the tavern.  To his surprise, many of the nearby conversations had died down, and multiple eyes were fastened attentively on him. 

He felt a moment of hesitation – he’d never really been comfortable speaking in front of people, but he almost laughingly brushed it aside.  That was foolish; he’d spent a fair chunk of his time in game giving speeches so far, and if he could convince a group of angry elves not to kill him or persuade his party to follow a plan without knowing what it was, he could certainly talk to a bunch of fellow adventurers.  Besides, they weren’t staring at Jeff, or even at Aranos – they were watching Oran, and it looked like Oran had a bit of a tendency to show off.  Aranos grinned; playing Oran could be fun.  He rose to his feet to continue his story, lifting his voice to carry over the crowd, and punctuating it with small flashes of fire, ice, and lightning.  More of the room fell silent and turned to face him, and by the end, half the tavern was staring at him – and he was having a heck of a lot of fun.

“The dwarven Priestess was devastated at the loss of the dragonelle, but she knew that anyone who could kill that thing on their own was just too much for her small group of hunters to face,” he proclaimed grandly with a grin and getting a low wave of laughter in response.  “Seriously, though, her Spells weren’t getting through my shields, and she didn’t want to lose any more of her people.  I felt sorry for her, though, and I realized I had a chance to gain reputation with her Clan, so I offered to split the Harvest with her…but only if her people did all the messy work.”  He got another low round of laughter at that. 

“So, I kept the hide, half the claws and teeth…and one of the thing’s eggs, as a present for a friend.”  He reached into his pouch and pulled the still-warm egg out, handing it to Rhys.  “It’s for you, Reece.  I know you got that new Ability to Bond a Companion, and I thought a dragonelle might be just the thing.”

The Druid reached out cautiously and touched the egg with trembling hands.  “Truly?” he asked in an awed voice.  “A – a dragonelle…I never could have dreamed.”  He closed his eyes and cupped his hands around the softball-sized, leathery orb.  “I can feel it.  It’s so young, but…it’s willing to Bond.”  He placed the egg very carefully inside his pouch.  “This is a priceless gift, Oran,” he said gravely.  “I’ll never be able to repay it.”

“You’ll repay me by letting me ride on it once it’s big enough,” Aranos laughed.  “After that, the dwarves and I parted ways, I followed the same path back to Stoneleague – and here I am.  I finished the Quest, made friends with the dwarves, and got the Guildmaster himself to buy me a drink.  All in all, a successful day.”  He bowed theatrically as the room erupted in applause, and sat back down, his face glowing and his heart racing. Okay, that was pretty cool.  I’ve never gotten an ovation before.

“That is a hell of a story, Oran,” the Guildmaster sighed, leaning back in his chair.  “It’s worth another drink, just for the telling.”  He signaled the server again, then turned back to face the party.  “I miss that, you know.  Going out, having adventures, then coming back and regaling everyone with the tale of it.  Really, that’s the best part, getting to share it with everyone.”  He shook his head.  “That’s a younger man’s game, though, and I’ll leave it to you young ones quite happily.”

“I heard that you killed a full dragon by yourself, Guildmaster,” Longfellow gushed, leaning forward.  “I’ll buy you a drink in exchange for that story.”

“Two drinks,” Ryder countered.  Longfellow flagged down another server, and the Guildmaster chuckled.  “All right, everyone settle,” he called out, and the entire tavern fell silent.  “Here’s a story I haven’t told in years – the true tale of how I killed Gargarinth of the Dark Flame, last of the Shadow Dragons.  It all began about forty years ago…”

Aranos leaned back with a smile, watching the rapt faces of his companions.  Even Geltheriel was listening attentively, her eyes gleaming as the old man spoke.  This is what it’s really about, he thought with satisfaction.  Not just the levels and the Stats but sharing the excitement and adventure with friends.  It’s about having a good time together.   He sighed.  It was easy to forget that, especially in this world where the Kingdoms of Light were constantly under siege and the natives rarely had any time or interest in simple pleasures, but it was just as much a part of the game as Questing.

The stories continued into the night, and at one point Marie appeared and bought him the drink she’d promised him.  He repeated the story for the older woman, and she laughed merrily at his tale.  “So, did you end up getting reputation with the dwarves?”

Aranos frowned and pulled up his reputation screen.  “Huh,” he said dully.

“You didn’t?  After all that?”

“No, I did.  My current reputation with them is Friendly, though.  I must have gotten five thousand points just from that!”

“They must have needed those eggs a lot more desperately than they let on,” the woman guessed.  “So, you got reputation with the dwarves, the Guild, and the city, from that one Quest?”  She shook her head.  “If I’d known that, I would have taken the damn thing myself.”

He chuckled.  “And the King personally.  Bringing back the stuff from the fallen soldiers gave me a thousand rep with him, in fact.”

“That’s because he’s lost several companies lately, and finding out what happened to one will help with the grumbling among the rest of the guards.” She noted.  “I’ll bet if you could find out about the others, you’d get even more reputation.” 

The woman leaned back and stretched languorously, pulling her soft leather shirt tight across her body.  Aranos swallowed and felt heat rising in his stomach; he hadn’t realized it, before, but the woman’s body was lushly curved, with wide hips and heavy breasts.  “Did the Guildmaster give you any more Quests for the night, Oran?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“N – no,” he stammered, swallowing hard.  He wasn’t exactly a novice when it came to women, but he also wasn’t used to one being so aggressively attentive to him.

“Then maybe you can tell me more of your stories – somewhere more private,” she suggested, leaning forward and putting her hand on his thigh.  “I have a room, here at the Guildhouse…”

“Oran,” Geltheriel’s voice broke in as the woman walked over and sat beside him, leaning against his shoulder affectionately.  “Are you ready to head back to our room?  It’s been a long day, and I don’t want you to be too tired.”

Marie blinked and leaned back, straightening.  “Ah, I see,” she nodded.  “Sorry, Oran.  I didn’t realize.  Thanks for the talk, though.”  The woman got up and walked stiffly away, and Geltheriel sighed and shook her head.

“We should leave, Oathbinder,” she muttered, softly enough that only Aranos could hear her.  “With your burgeoning reputation in this place, you will likely attract more trouble the longer you remain.”

“Okay,” he agreed, part of him grateful for the woman’s rescue and part of him wishing she’d left well enough alone.  “I’m not ready to head back to the tavern yet, though.  Maybe we can just walk around the city?”

“So long as we both remain alert and aware, that should present no difficulty,” she smiled.  “I am given to understand, though, that all human cities are more dangerous once the sun has fallen.”

Aranos waved to Phil as they left and got a nod in return.  They stepped out into the cool, night air, and Aranos took a deep breath.  “Thanks for the save,” he said after a moment.  “Marie was a bit – intense.”

You have none to blame but yourself, Oathbinder, he heard the woman’s voice in his mind.  Forgive me, but I find it much easier to converse this way.  Speaking as a human is not easy and makes me feel rude and uncouth.

No problem, he sent back with a silent smile.  It’s actually nicer for me to hear you talking this way.  It’s probably almost as weird to hear you speak like a human as it is for you to talk like one.

While that is unlikely, I appreciate that you prefer my true self to the human disguise I am wearing, the woman laughed silently.  Especially as, like your Bonded, I will ask to shed this façade at the first opportunity.  Human women are somewhat – curvier than I am comfortable with, and human males are far too free with their hands, despite their protests that it was merely an accident.  Do human women appreciate being fondled without permission?

No, they really don’t, but a lot of human men don’t seem to care about that.  Did you hurt any of them?

No more than necessary to convince them to keep their appendages to themselves, the woman shrugged.

Next time feel free to do more.  Guys like that kind of deserve what they get.

They walked across the square, which was nearly empty of vendors this time of night, and headed southeast, past a pair of tall, stone towers Aranos didn’t recognize.  As they strolled silently, Aranos frowned.  Wait, how was that my fault?  I didn’t do anything to encourage her!

Geltheriel sighed.  You did, Oathbinder, although it was likely all unwitting.  You still underestimate the power of your Charisma.

My Charisma?  What’s that got to do with it?  I didn’t think Charisma was a measure of how attractive you are.

It is not, she agreed.  Charisma is a measure of how easily you can affect those around you, and you are doing so.

I’m not trying to, he protested.

But you are, or it would not be occurring, Oathbinder.  The woman sighed aloud.  Oathbinder, you have suffered a significant loss.  We both have, but the Avenger’s passing has affected us in different ways.

What do you mean?

Geltheriel stopped and looked directly at him.  Do you miss her, Oathbinder?  Does the thought of her make you ache inside?

Aranos froze, startled by the directness of her speech.  He thought about Saphielle, her blunt manner, her quiet dependability, her hidden passions and sorrows, and a wave of sorrow flowed over him.  He did miss her.  He missed her voice, her intelligence, the secret warmth she shared with him – and, of course, the closeness of her body.

Geltheriel shuddered and stepped back from him, wrapping her arms around her body as if warding off a sudden chill.  There, Oathbinder.  That is what you are doing.  You yearn for the Avenger’s presence and her touch, and your desire spills out into the world around you.  Your Charisma gives it power, and what might simply be longing in another becomes an aura of desire, one that any woman you find attractive is affected by.

Aranos stared at her, stunned.  I – I didn’t know, he stammered mentally.  How…I wasn’t trying to do that!   His eyes narrowed at her.  Besides, I’m not attracted to you in that way, Geltheriel.  I don’t think of you like that.

Your heart does not, just as mine does not consider you in that manner, Oathbinder.  Your body, though, acknowledges that it finds mine desirable.  Sensing his discomfort, she laughed.  Do not be concerned, Oathbinder.  My body tells me quite frequently that you are an attractive elf – arcane now, forgive me – and there is little I can do about it.  Despite our protests to the contrary, we are a part of nature, and nature demands that her children create more of themselves.  You do not act upon your body’s desires, nor do you treat me differently because of them, and that is all one can ask of a friend.

However, she continued, resuming her walk, with Aranos in tow, neither elves nor humans were meant to be solitary, and it is that primal urge that you are projecting.  You are seeking companionship, but it is inspiring lust in those around you.  That is why the serving girl at Malcolm’s and the Warrior tonight found themselves drawn to you; you pulled them to you all unwittingly.

Aranos was aghast; what she was talking about sounded uncomfortably like something nonconsensual.  I don’t want that, he thought desperately.  Forcing women to be interested in me, against their will…

You misunderstand, Oathbinder.  You recall that I said my body finds yours appealing, yes?  Well, without that, I would feel nothing for you, despite your Charisma, except perhaps sadness at your obvious loneliness.  Your Charisma is merely encouraging those who are attracted to you to perhaps act more aggressively upon it than they normally would.

And you will notice that I have yet to throw myself at you, demanding to join you in bed, despite all our time together alone at night, she grinned at him.  It is an urging that can be resisted, without great difficulty should one choose to do so.  Even before, when you felt your desire most fully and directed it almost completely toward me, it was but an effort of will to ignore it.  Those who offered you their charms did so because they wished to and hoped for a return of their attentions.

He felt a surge of relief flow through him, although it was mixed with irritation.  So, how do I stop it?  I don’t really want women offering that sort of thing all over the place.

Many men would disagree with you, she chuckled, just as many women would.  However, there is little you can do; so long as your longing remains, your Charisma will act to satisfy it.  In time, it will pass.  Before that time comes, though, you must be aware of the effect you are creating.   Her face twisted in a grimace.  Of course, it is possible that surrendering to desire might ease that longing temporarily, and that is a possible solution.

Aranos snorted.  So, why do you keep making sure it doesn’t happen?  I mean, if I’m doing this to you, too, wouldn’t be easier for you if I wasn’t so – passionate?

She nodded and looked at him seriously.  It would, Oathbinder, in all truth, and a part of me wishes to allow you to satiate yourself in that way to simplify things.  However, I know your heart, and I know that while you might indulge in such a thing, you would feel deep shame and regret for doing so.  I would spare you that pain, especially when the price of doing so is but minor discomfort.

She was right; he would be ashamed if he did something like that.  He’d never been into one-night stands, and he’d avoided the sort of casual dating that he’d seen other people do so easily.  It wasn’t easy for him to connect to most people, and without that connection, things felt…shallow.  He shook his head.  Thanks, then.  I’ll see if there’s anything I can do about it, though.  Maybe at least I can figure out how to exclude you from the effect.

That would be most appreciated, she thought back gratefully.

They’d wandered into an area that was more rundown and ramshackle than any part of the city they’d yet seen.  The buildings here looked like they’d been thrown together out of whatever the occupants could find and were a mishmash of wood, stone, and brick.  All looked rickety and unstable, as if a stiff breeze would send them tumbling to the ground.  The few people they saw moved quickly, their eyes constantly moving as if scanning for danger, and the scent of ash, rotting meat, and worse filled Aranos’ nostrils.  The lamps here were few and far between, and the alleyways were bathed in darkness. 

Aranos stopped and grabbed Geltheriel’s arm an instant before the woman stiffened, as well, her eyes picking up the same thing his did: the set of tracks leading into the next alley but not heading back out.  “Well, well, what have we here?” a sly voice echoed from the alley.  “A lovely couple, out for a stroll?  Slumming it here in the Low Quarter?  Didn’t you know that this place isn’t safe for a pair of gulls like you?”

Aranos called up his mana as Geltheriel loosened her sword and stared contemptuously at the shadows.  “Find another victim, thief,” she said in a hard voice.  “These two will cost your lives.”

“Our lives, she says,” another voice hissed.  A breeze drifted past the alley, and instantly Aranos’ Scent Ability activated.  He could pick out the smell of unwashed bodies and even the odors of individual humans.

Seven of them, he sent silently to Geltheriel, who nodded minutely. 

“Well, we don’t want to give up our lives, and we don’t want to take yours,” the voice continued.  “How about you lot drop your packs and coin purses, then turn and walk away.  Surely your lives aren’t worth a few coins.”

“I’ve got a better offer,” Geltheriel replied evenly.  “How about the seven of you drop your weapons, walk out into the light, then run away as fast as you can, and I won’t slit your throats and leave you bleeding in the gutter.”

A series of guffaws echoed from the alley.  “We ain’t afraid of some noble gull with a fancy sticker,” a deep voice rumbled.  “In fact, the deal’s changed.  You drop your packs and purses, he walks away, and you come over here and have some fun with us.  When we’re through, if you gave us a good time, you’ll live.  If not…”

The man’s words cut off as Geltheriel vanished, leaping out of the light and into the shadows.  Aranos heard shouts and screams of pain, and he sighed.  Please don’t kill all of them, he sent to the woman silently.  He glanced around, but the locals had vanished; apparently, people in this area had learned not to interfere when trouble reared its head.   

They dared to suggest… her voice snarled in his head.

And they deserve to die for it, but if you let them go, they’ll run back to their hideout or whatever, and we can Track them there.  Then, we’ll know where they’re staying, in case we run into more of them or need to trade the info to the guards or something.

Aranos blinked as the woman growled back a string of Elvish profanity that didn’t translate well but seemed to involve his mother doing extremely improbable things with an ogrin, along with that same ogrin attempting those things with him.  Despite her retort, however, a sharp cry sounded as a black-clad figure flew from the alley and crashed into the cobblestone streets.  The figure rose unsteadily to its feet and looked at Aranos, who held one hand in front of him, palm up, and drew forth a strand of Radiant mana.  A ball of brilliant, white flames appeared over his hand, tumbling lazily and slowly growing larger as he fed it.

“I really suggest you run,” he told the figure flatly.  “Or burn, either’s fine with me.”  The thief took a single glance at the blazing orb of fire, turned, and sprinted off into the dark.   A moment later, a second thief staggered from the alley, clutching the bloody stump of his right hand, and followed his companion.  After that, silence reigned over the street.  Everyone nearby had disappeared, and the streets were empty.

Aranos dismissed the ball of flame and summoned a stream of light mana.  A cloud of hazy light rose around him, bathing both the street and the darkened alley in a wan glow that dimly illuminated Geltheriel standing amidst five corpses, her arms and face splashed with blood and her eyes blazing dangerously.

“How DARE they?” she growled in Elvish, forgetting to speak Human in her rage.  “I will NOT be treated like that again!”

“I know,” he agreed, also in Elvish.   “They deserved to die, Geltheriel.  And now we can Track the survivors, so we know where they are if we need to punish them further.”

The woman slowly calmed down, and Aranos stood silently and let her rage cool.  When he’d met Geltheriel, she was a prisoner in the ruined city of Haerobel, and her captor had done things to her without her consent.  He’d then offered to let her go if she’d do even more things willingly.  She’d refused, preferring to die of Thirst and Hunger debuffs than to submit, as painful as those were.  While she’d survived the ordeal, it had left scars, and the ruffians’ suggestions had apparently reopened some of those wounds.  Aranos wasn’t quite arrogant enough to think that there was anything he could do or say that would help, so he stayed quiet and gave her the space to regain control of herself.

At last, she wiped her blade down on one of the fallen assailants.  Do you have their trail, Oathbinder? she asked him silently as she sheathed her sword.

I do, he assured her.  And once I do, I can’t lose it, no matter what they do and where they go.

The woman grunted and walked out of the alley, looking down at her blood-splattered body.  I am something of a mess.  I do not believe it would be wise to continue our stroll looking as I do.

We can head back to the Blade, he agreed.  If nothing else, Malcolm can direct us to a place you can get cleaned up. 

That would be welcome.  She looked around at the fallen bodies.  Do you think this will cause us problems?  Will the guards be searching for us after this?

Probably not, he shrugged.  These are obviously thieves, so I doubt they’ll care much that they were killed.  Besides, considering that the noise didn’t bring them running, I doubt the guards are much concerned about what happens down here – at least, not as long as it doesn’t spill into nicer parts of the city.

Geltheriel sighed.  I would like to say that those of the House of Blades would not behave so, but...I cannot, in truth.  They are concerned with maintaining order rather than dispensing justice, just as the House of Twilight cares more deeply for securing the forest from the Darkness than from minor banditry.

Banditry? Aranos repeated.  Is that an issue in the Elven Realms?  I would have thought that was more of a human problem.

Geltheriel snorted.  You were instrumental in the fall of House Exxidor, Oathbinder.  What do you think became of the scattered members of that House?

I assumed they were given places in new Houses, probably by former allies.

The woman shook her head.  Some few might, especially those that had been enslaved by the insidious collars.  None could accuse those of being part of Keryth’s conspiracy.  For the rest, though, a House that accepted them might be seen as complicit in Exxidor’s treachery – or at least sympathetic.  None would risk such a thing.

So, they became…bandits?

Perhaps.  They are certainly living in exile in the elven forests, likely scattered into small groups to avoid detection.  It is probable that if a merchant caravan passed their way, they would strike at it for food, weapons, and goods if they felt they could do so safely. 

And the Keepers just let it happen? Aranos asked in amazement.

So long as their depredations are small and controlled, yes, Geltheriel said simply.  Consider, Oathbinder: which enemy should the Keepers focus on?  A small group of bandits that infrequently prey on wealthy merchant Houses, or a pack of amaroks that will slay every farmer and hunter they find, not ceasing until they are dead?  The Keepers are not as numerous as they should be and thus must choose which missions to pursue. 

The woman chuckled.  Although, it would surprise me if finding and dispatching those bandits were not a Quest offered to our House occasionally, especially by the Houses that have suffered losses from them.  It would be cheaper to pay Travelers to root out the bandits than to constantly hire guards to ward them off. 

Aranos frowned; he hadn’t checked on his House in days, and he really needed to be better about that.  He’d take a couple hours to actually sleep tonight and speak to Lorsan, his majordomo.  If nothing else, he needed to make sure that Golloron wasn’t openly striking at Aranos’ House; despite the elf’s assurances that House Evenshade’s presence was a benefit to the Stronghold, Aranos was certain that just meant the elder would find other ways to attack him.

They easily retraced their steps through the High Ward, south to the Guild Square, and back to the Black Blade.  The common room was crowded and a bit raucous that time of night, but as of yet, no fights seemed to be breaking out, for which Aranos was grateful.  He’d promised Malcolm that he could keep fighting to a minimum in the bar, and while he could, he was hoping not to have to bother.  The pair of them made their way over to the side of the bar, opposite where the mediocre bard was wailing an off-color song about a sailor and the captain’s wife. 

“He knotted the sheets to her ankles and feet
“Made certain the bindings were fast.
“While the good captain snored,
“She said, ‘Climb aboard,
“And mount my main deck with your mast!’”

“That’s truly awful,” Geltheriel muttered, shaking her head.  “Do humans really enjoy such songs?”

“Some obviously do,” Aranos chuckled, gesturing at the stamping and whistling patrons.

“The concept is utterly absurd,” she grimaced.  “One should never use ropes for such a purpose, as they can leave marks and even scar.  A silk scarf would serve far more effectively and avoid her husband asking awkward questions the next morning.”  Aranos stared at her for several moments before catching the gleam in her eye.

“Seriously, one day I’m going to learn to stop taking you so seriously,” he groaned.

“May the gods grant that day be long in coming, Oran,” she grinned at him.  “When it does, my main source of entertainment will vanish.”

Malcolm spotted them and hustled over, saving Aranos from further embarrassment.  “Welcome back, Oran!” he said loudly over the noise.  His eyes traveled the length of the pair and narrowed.  “Looks like you had a bit of trouble tonight.”

Aranos glanced at Geltheriel and saw the blood still staining her hands and spattering her clothing.  “Some muggers who wanted a bit more from Theria than her money.  They didn’t live to regret it, for the most part.”

The man grunted.  “Good.  Any fool Basher who thinks the two of you look like marks doesn’t need to be on the streets as it is.”  He frowned.  “Where did this happen?  Bashers don’t usually work the Guild Square, it’s too open.  Were you walking the Low Ward?”

Aranos nodded.  “Not on purpose, though.  We weren’t paying attention to where we were going, and we don’t know the city all that well, yet.”

“Even so, I’m surprised a group of Bashers would target two so obviously capable people,” he shook his head.  “That’s the kind of thing that gets a thief put in a box.”  He shrugged. “Did you kill them all?”

“Two got away,” Aranos shook his head.  “Why?  Is there a problem?”

“Probably not, but I think I’ll ask your friend McBane to look into it while he’s here,” the innkeeper said thoughtfully.  “There’s been a lot of that sort of thing lately; thieves have been targeting people they’ve got no business even looking twice at or doing things that are going to bring the guards down on them.”  He shrugged.  “It’s probably nothing, but having the guard cracking down too hard will be bad for everyone’s business.  Besides,” he grinned, “things like this are exactly what Travelers are good for, since it doesn’t matter if I’m sending the man to his death.”

“It does make things easier on the conscience,” Geltheriel chuckled.  “Do you by any chance have a place I could clean up?”

“Of course.  I’ll have Jenna show you where the bath is.”  He gestured to the young woman, who nodded her head and began to make her way to the bar.

“My thanks, Malcolm.”  She looked at herself with mild distaste.  “Oran, I’ll go get cleaned up and meet you in our room.”  She grinned at him, her eyes twinkling.  “I hope the battle didn’t sap your Stamina too much.  I think it’s going to be a long night, and I don’t want you falling short again.”

You know, you don’t have to be enjoying this so much, he thought at her accusingly as Malcolm snorted, then turned to Jenna and began speaking quietly. 

Oh, but I do, Oathbinder, she laughed silently.  As I said, it is my main entertainment.  I’ll see you in the room soon.

As the two women walked away, Malcolm sighed heavily.  “Ah, to be young enough for a woman like that to look twice at me,” he said wistfully.  “Oran, you’re a lucky man, but I think you’ve got your hands full with that one.”

Aranos grunted.  “Trust me, Malcolm,” he replied sourly.  “You have no idea.”

Lily watched impassively as the hundred or so soldiers marched along the road, their armor shining in the sunlight and their weapons gleaming wickedly.  Once, she would have avoided a patrol like this – after all, missing patrols tended to draw attention and even larger patrols – but not anymore.  In fact, she welcomed these assholes; they were just the sort of shiny, new minions she needed.

She liked that word, minions.  It made her feel like a badass supervillain, which was exactly what she was, of course.  She was also cool with ‘ravening horde’, which was what some dumbass peasant had called her creatures a couple days ago, and as her way of saying ‘Thanks’, she’d had her minions kill him and his family before they ate them.  Normally, her creatures didn’t wait until shit was dead before eating it.  She didn’t really care about that; if they were too weak to defend themselves, then the assholes deserved whatever they got, and their screams were kind of relaxing.

The patrol marched along, all shiny and fancy looking as they walked in perfect step, their armor making all sorts of noise that basically alerted any bandit or creature for a mile that they were coming.  Lily thought that was probably on purpose; in her experience, cops never really wanted to get involved in shit and preferred to scare people into hiding what they were doing rather than actually investigating it.  Hell, she’d buried a dozen bodies before they even started looking for her, and then they’d done a pretty half-ass job of it until she’d put down a dozen more.  That’s when they’d started taking her seriously, and that’s when everything had gone to shit.

Lily paused; this was another moment like that.  If she took down this patrol, it would be an escalation, and shit would come her way.  She knew that instinctively, just as she’d known that killing that last asshole would bring the heat down on her.  Everyone had thought the man was some sort of pillar of the community, a politician with morals and all that shit, but he’d been a sleazy pervert just like the rest of them.  The moment he thought he could get into Lily’s pants, he’d followed her willingly, not giving a shit about the wife and kids he professed to love so much.  Lily had been doing their asses a favor; this way, the family hadn’t had to go through the inevitable fucking divorce once the wife found out the man was banging underage hookers regularly on the side. 

But just like that politician, this patrol would bring down heat.  It was the largest one the Queen of Northmoor had sent so far, which meant someone in the city was getting suspicious.  If this patrol passed safely, they’d probably figure some animal or beast had decided to hunt on the road, and they’d likely send out a bunch of fucking Travelers with Quests to find the animal and kill it.  This was a point of no return; if Lily did this, she’d have to keep going or risk losing everything.  This would probably set most of the players in the human lands against her, and it would absolutely grab that fucker Aranos’ attention. 

That was the only part that really concerned her.  It hurt to admit that, but Lily had always tried to be honest with herself, even when that shit was painful.  She was a little bit afraid of the Sorcerer – and of his pet elf girlfriend, Geltheriel.  That name gave Lily a shiver; there was an elf that hated Lily’s guts and was strong enough – and pissed enough – to do something about it.  Lily had died a bunch in the game, of course, but the deaths Geltheriel gave her were some of the worst.  That fucker Aranos wanted to punish her, but despite the shit he’d said about burying her alive, she knew he had boundaries.  There was stuff he wouldn’t do.  Geltheriel just had rage, and most of that was directed at Lily.  The woman wanted to make Lily suffer, and her ass had probably been thinking of ways to do it.

And that was the way shit was supposed to be, wasn’t it?  If you were strong, you used that to make weaker people do what you wanted.  You made them fear you.  The leader of that last patrol had begged Lily not to do what she’d done, not to enslave the woman and her troops.  She’d pleaded, and sobbed, and offered Lily all kinds of shit that she probably couldn’t make good on in exchange for just letting their asses go, including some kinky stuff that Lily hadn’t been expecting.  That was because the bitch had been weak and afraid, just like she should be.  It hadn’t mattered, of course; she was one of Lily’s minions, now, and that was the end of it.  She was a tool to be used, which was really all that weak people were good for.

Lily wasn’t one of the weak.  She was a badass supervillain, and even if she was a bit afraid of that Geltheriel bitch, it didn’t matter.  Weak people gave into fear.  Strong people overcame it and killed whatever it was that scared them. 

Dark mana gathered at her hands as Lily cast her Cloud of Pestilence Spell, enveloping the startled patrol in sickly, gray vapors that sapped their Strength and Endurance.  The Spell also hid the rain of arrows that arched down into the stumbling, swearing soldiers and the charge of mixed humans and urukkai that descended upon the patrol from both sides. 

The patrol’s leader was sharp, though.  He barked out orders, and a shield wall formed to each side, with crossbowmen lining up behind them.  It was a pretty formation, and it might have been effective if half a hundred of Lily’s summoned creatures hadn’t suddenly appeared in the middle of the assholes, ripping and tearing at the archers and disrupting the line.  Lily could see the look of despair in the leader’s face as he knew that his patrol was doomed, and she grinned.

Let the asshole players bring it.  Let Aranos and his elf bitch come.  Lily would be ready.  From here on out, her path was clear. 

Northmoor was doomed, and Lily would get her army.

Chapter 10

“You got attacked by Bashers?” McBane asked disbelievingly, running one hand through his hair and shaking his head.  “Seriously?  Who in the hell would have attacked Geltheriel, looking as scary as she does?”

“My thanks, Giantbane,” the woman murmured, combing her wet, honey-blonde hair, her skin and clothing now free of all traces of blood and gore.  “That is the effect for which I am aiming.”

They were in the room Aranos and Geltheriel were sharing, with a dome of silenced air woven around them.  Geltheriel stood near the door, her face creased with a gentle smile, and Aranos was sitting on his bed watching McBane pace across the floor.  “Well, it works,” the Rogue laughed.  “So, Malcolm wants me to look into this?”

“That’s what he said,” Aranos nodded.  “I’m not sure what the big deal is, though.”

“Thieves are opportunists,” McBane shrugged.  “If they wanted to work hard for their money, they’d become honest laborers or merchants.  The whole point to being a thief is to get as much as possible with as little work as possible, really.  That means rolling drunks on their way home at night, mugging commoners on payday, or extorting small merchants who don’t have the connections to complain. 

“Well-armed people are usually off-limits, because even if they don’t know how to use their weapons, there’s always the chance someone could get killed.  Trying to mug well-armed people wearing nice clothing and obviously well-used armor is just asking to die, and thieves would much rather run than die.  Those Bashers should have ignored you completely and hid from you, or at least taken you up on your offer to allow them to run.”

“That is why I made the offer,” Geltheriel agreed.  “Were they bandits in the forests of Eredain, they would have fled when given the chance.  I was not expecting them to respond as they did.”

“Yeah, it’s not normal behavior, and that means it’s worth looking into,” McBane’s face twisted sourly.  “I hate working for Malcolm – the pay is crap, and he’s always trying to get me to do things in typical sneaky fashion – but the XP will be better than anything I’ll get at the Adventurer’s Guild.”  He shrugged.  “I’d better go talk to him.  You said you Tracked those thieves, right?  Where did you leave their trail?”

“I didn’t,” Aranos grinned.  “I’m still Tracking them, right now.  Part of having a Master-ranked Skill.”

“Of course you are,” McBane sighed, shaking his head.  “Have they gone to ground yet?”

“They’ve been the same place for the last twenty minutes.  I can tell more or less where, but I’d need to get closer to narrow it down to a specific building.”  He quickly sent McBane the location information he had on the thieves, and the man’s eyes unfocused as he examined his updated map.

“This is just outside the Steel Ward,” he observed.  “That’s where most of the crafters live and work, in the eastern part of the city.”  His eyes widened.  “I’ll bet they went to the Steel Rose; it’s a brothel that caters to craftsmen.  I know the madame of that place…”

“Do you, now?” Geltheriel asked archly.

McBane rolled his eyes.  “The women there aren’t exactly my type,” he snorted.  “The ones I prefer are down by the Docks Ward.  The men there are some fun eye candy.”  He shook his head.  “That’s beside the point.  She’s part of the Guild, and she knows me.  She might be willing to chat.”  He sighed.  “I’ll go chat with Malcolm; it’s probably best to get this started sooner rather than later.” 

After the Rogue left, Aranos placed Crystal Walls on the door and window; those wouldn’t stop someone from getting in, but the noise of their being shattered would certainly wake up Geltheriel, who could then wake Aranos.  He was planning to Dreamstride that night, and he wasn’t sure how hard it would be to wake him from that, but it would probably be easier than rousing him from his Deeper Meditation.

Before Aranos fell off to sleep, he spent an hour meditating, using his new technique to train his Mana Control and Mastery.  He also spent some time working on his Spells, getting Ball Lightning and Energy Wall up to the next rank, then spent another hour training his Skills, especially his Stealth.  At the end, he pulled up his notifications and read them happily:

Spell Boost!
The following Spells have gained a level:

Energy Wall
New Rank: Student 2
Create a barrier of energy that repels and damages those who attempt to cross it.

Effect: Choose a mana aspect.  You create a 20’ x 20’ x 9” wall forged of that mana type.  The wall has the consistency of the chosen mana type.  Any creature touching it or passing through it suffers 5 – 12 LP damage /s of that type (71 – 107 LP) while in contact.  If the wall is solid, it collapses if anything breaks through it.  Damage and size increased by 5% per Spell Level
Duration: 2 min + 15 s per Spell Level
Cost: 120 SP

Just a fiery brick in my wall…

Ball Lightning
New Rank: Student 1
Rain lightning strikes on enemies

Effect: Choose a point within sight range.  A ball of lightning mana appears at that point and remains still for the duration of the Spell.  Once every 4 s, you can send a stroke of lightning from that ball into any target within 40’.  The strike has a chance equal to [50% - 2% per Mana Manipulation Skill level] to miss the intended target and strike another creature or object within 5’.  Each strike does 20 – 45 LP damage if it hits (220 – 605).  Any creature that takes 10% or more of their max LP in damage from a single strike is paralyzed for 3 s, +1 s for every additional 10% of their max LP damage they took.  You can call 1 strike per 10 Spell levels, plus additional strikes equal to [(Int-10)/20]. 
Duration: 8 min or until exhausted
Cost: 575 SP

My lightning always strikes twice…

Skill Boosts!
The following Skills have gained a level:

Stealth(T)
New Rank: Adept 1

Adept Ability: You gain a damage boost of +2% per Skill level when attacking from Stealth.

Skill: Stealth is now considered Trained!

Lifesense(T)
New Rank: Student 1

Student Ability: You can detect the difference between Lightborn, Beasts, and Shadowborn creatures.

After training, he laid down and slowly fell asleep.  It felt strange to actually sleep, since for the most part he could get by with just his Meditation Skill, but he drifted off quickly enough.  Once in the chaotic madness of the dreamscape, he fashioned a zone of stability by mirroring parts of nearby dreams, quieting the cacophony of dreams and nightmares that threatened to unhinge his mind if he listened to it long enough.  He channeled a tiny bit of dream energy into the barrier holding the madness out, and it seemed to solidify in his vision.  Hopefully, now, to anyone watching from afar, he would simply look like another bit of insanity in the miasma of dreams, his presence in this world masked to those who might mean him harm. He shifted his form to look like he had before his Evolution – Lorsan hadn’t seen his lord’s new appearance, yet, and Aranos didn’t want to frighten the man.

It took him a bit less than ten minutes to locate Lorsan, the majordomo of House Evenshade, by bending his will to the mental image of the elf and silently demanding the man appear before him.  The dreamscape blurred past him as he raced through it, covering the days of travel from Stoneleague to Eredain in minutes, until eventually the headlong rush stilled and the lanky, bronze-haired figure of his assistant appeared before him.

“My Lord,” Lorsan bowed to Aranos.  “It is good to see you.”

“You, too, Lorsan,” Aranos replied with a genuine smile.  The elf’s obsequiousness and insistence on formality had grated on Aranos at first, but the Sorcerer couldn’t deny the man’s effectiveness.  A simple glance at his House’s status was enough to confirm that:

House Evenshade
Rank: Fledgling House

Members: 83/50
Food Production: 149 (112 Farms, 37 Hunting)

Unique Holdings: 4
Common Structures: 12/8
Uncommon Structures: 6/4
Rare Structures: 1/0

Founder Personality: Benevolent Leader
House Path: None*
Morale: +75%
Crafting: -25%

Elders: Aranos, Geltheriel, Mathias
Achievements: Heart-bonded
Great Works: None
Base Reputation: Disliked (Apathetic)

House Credit: 165 PL
Current Resources:
Timber: ​ 3098 ​ ​ Ore: 2571 ​ ​ Stone: 3400
Glass: 2143 ​ ​ Crystal: ​ 1040
Construction Points: 1459 (9/week generated, 6/week maintenance)

*Congratulations!
Your House has a new Path Perk available!

Perk: Adventuring Dynasty (Path)

Benefits: Members of your House gain a 15% bonus to all Quest rewards but suffer 15% greater reputation losses for failed or incomplete Quests.  10% of all reputation bonuses and penalties given to House members for completing or failing Quests is applied to the House’s reputation, as well. 

Heart-bonded: Because the founder of your House is a Heart-bonded individual, your members receive double this bonus and receive half the penalty increase for all Quests related to the city of Antas.

Do you wish to apply this Perk to your House?

“It looks like we’ve gotten quite a few new members,” Aranos observed; the last time he’d checked, they’d had only 28.  “What happened there?”

“Your liberation of Antas, my Lord.  We have had merchants, craftsmen, farmers, and soldiers clamoring to join us, hoping to journey to the newly freed city and take up residence there.  I have accepted those that seemed most worthy, with the permission of Elder Mathias.”

Offering Mathias the Lancer the chance to become House Evenshade’s Elder for the city of Eredain had been a good idea, in Aranos’ opinion.  The man had no interest in running the city’s holdings, so he simply signed off on whatever Lorsan suggested.  So far, that had worked out excellently, although Aranos had asked Geltheriel’s uncle Durlan to keep an eye on things and let his niece know if anything suspicious was going on.  That freed Aranos from the day-to-day minutiae of the House and allowed him to work on building its resources and reputation, instead.

“I’ll take a look at them and let you know if I have any questions.  We also finally got offered our Path Perk.  ‘Adventuring Dynasty’ gives us bonuses to Quest rewards done for the House and lets us share in the reputation bonuses or penalties our members get.”  He quickly read off the text of the offered Perk.  “Any thoughts?”

Lorsan simply stared at the Sorcerer in silence for a minute, which Aranos had learned was the elf’s way of displaying astonishment.  Lorsan’s face was almost always an impassive mask, but he showed things like surprise, anger, or frustration through silence. 

“That – is most surprising, my Lord,” the man admitted after a moment.  “Although it seems you expected such, I would not have looked for such a Perk to be offered by the gods for many weeks or even months.  Receiving one so quickly is unheard-of.”

“It’s probably because I’m a Traveler,” Aranos pointed out.  “Everything seems to happen faster for us, anyway.”

“This is true, my Lord.  The Travelers on your estate have risen far faster in both Skills and levels than any could have imagined.  In any case, I assume you will choose this Path?”

“I don’t want to be greedy,” Aranos hedged, “but this was the first thing offered.  I’m assuming if we have more Achievements or Great Works, we might get a better Perk offered, right?”

Once again, Lorsan simply stared at Aranos, saying nothing.  “Yes, my Lord,” the man finally spoke.  “Waiting for an even more perfect Path when the gods have offered you the precise one you wished for might strike another as greedy.”

Aranos grimaced; he’d realized the moment the words had left his mouth that they sounded kind of…spoiled.  “You’re right, Lorsan.  We’ve been lucky enough to get the Perk we wanted; I should be grateful for that.”  He called up the Perk notification again and chose ‘Yes’.

“Wise of you, my Lord,” the man replied without a hint of sarcasm.  “Now, you have but to appoint two more Elders and our House will be able to grow in rank – some years before I imagined it would.” 

“Do you have any suggestions for who I could appoint?” Aranos asked.  “I could see if some of my party members wanted to join the House…”

“Unfortunately, they would not qualify, my Lord.  As you may recall, Elders must be among those who have been with your House the longest, which is what makes them ‘elder’.  And yes, I have two suggestions. 

“The first is that you offer it to the Traveler named Gwinivere, the companion of Elder Mathias.  She has proven to offer him wise council and acts as a restraint to his occasional…impulsiveness.  I am certain she would accept, as Elder Mathias has been somewhat cavalier in reminding his companions of his new rank.”

Aranos chuckled.  “Yeah, I can see that.  Okay, I remember Gwinivere; she was cautious and serious, which would definitely help in dealing with Mathias.”

“Just so, my Lord.  My other suggestion is an individual you have not met, so I recommend your waiting to speak to them before deciding.  His name is Rhandyr Evenshade, and he has been managing the estates in the capital city of Ulethelas for some time.  He is adept in the political maneuverings that a position in the capital requires, and under his direction, our holdings there have flourished.”

Aranos frowned.  “You’re right; I’d like to meet him, first.  If you describe him to me, I’ll do that as soon as we’re done here.  I can offer the Elder position to Gwinivere tonight, as well; might as well get things over with.”

“Of course, my Lord.  Is there anything else?”

“Yes, actually.  I found a number of blueprints in the Library of Antas that we can use to construct new buildings, and some of them are upgrades of our existing buildings.  Some of them I’ve built in Antas, but I wanted to see if you thought any of them could be useful for us in our existing buildings.”

“Certainly, my Lord.  Which buildings are you considering?”

Aranos pulled up his Structures tab and looked at the list of available upgrades.  “Okay, for upgrades, we’ve got the blueprints for an Advanced Farm, Shipping House, Armory, Mage’s Library, and Servant Apartments.”

Lorsan nodded.  “All useful upgrades, my Lord.  The Advanced Farm is likely the single most valuable of those, as it will increase our Farm output by 50%, and at the rate the House is growing, we will need a third Farm soon, anyway.  The Shipping House is less valuable, as we do not trade in much.  The Armory will increase the number of Warriors we can place under arms and grant bonuses to the defense of our territories, and the Servant Apartments will ease a potential housing issue that the influx of members has created.”

“What about the Mage’s Library?”

“It will add an additional section to your existing Library that can be used to store Spell scrolls safely, without the risk of damaging them that a normal Library entails.”

Aranos waved his hand dismissively.  “Not that, then.  I’ve got some buildings here in Antas I can repair that’ll give me the same thing.”  He looked at the list.  “The Advanced Farm requires 10 Glass, 60 Stone, and 150 Construction Points, so we could upgrade both of those.”

“I believe that is to build the farm from scratch, my Lord.  Check again for the upgrade.”

Aranos looked more closely.  “Yep, you’re right.  Twenty stone and fifty Construction Points for the upgrade.  Did you say we needed a third farm?”

“Not immediately, my Lord.  Even with our crafting penalty, each Advanced Farm will produce over 80 food.  I would recommend waiting to build the third farm in Antas once you have relocated those who wish to travel to it, my Lord.  It will save on the necessity of moving food along the High Road.”

“Good point,” Aranos grunted.  “Okay, so two Advanced Farms.  As far as the Servant Apartments – I also have a blueprint for Improved Housing.  Which is better?”

“Improved Housing, my Lord.  Servant Quarters are designed primarily to provide servants a place to sleep and little more, as the assumption is that they will eat, bathe, and work in another location through the day.  Improved Housing will upgrade our Family Houses into multistory homes, each of which will hold three times as many people: thirty-six rather than twelve.” 

“Wait, we only have housing for thirty-six people total right now?” Aranos asked in disbelief.  “Where are people sleeping?”

“No, my Lord, the Grand Hall provides space for fifty, the Servant Quarters each hold thirty, the Barracks can house thirty, and the Guest House holds ten.  That is comfortable housing, however; if needed, we can fit up to double that capacity at the expense of morale.”

“And what’s the capacity of the Servant Apartments?”

“Sixty, my Lord, although again, placing non-servants in servant housing will impact morale.”

He nodded.  The Improved Housing upgrade was expensive – even as an upgrade, one would take 60 Timber, 40 Stone, 20 Glass, and 75 Construction Points.  The Servant Apartments required only 40 Timber, 25 Stone, 10 Glass, and 55 Construction Points and did provide more Housing – but the morale hit could be a problem.  If he could open a portal to Eredain with any sort of precision, he’d be able to move people and goods around quickly between his territories, and since housing was currently relatively abundant in Antas, he needed people more than he needed places for them to stay.  Higher morale meant more people, and more people meant more production, more safety – really, more of everything.

“Okay, is there anything else you think we could use?  Any blueprints I should be on the lookout for?”

“I can think of several that would be useful, my Lord.  A Hunter’s Cabin or Hunting Lodge to aid our foragers in their daily efforts, a Stable for the horses we will eventually need, a Forge for repairing metal items…”

“I can do that myself,” Aranos pointed out.

“Indeed, my Lord, but would you travel to Elren Aethel in the far northwest to forge and repair horseshoes?  We will need more than one of most of the buildings we possess and laborers to work them.”

Aranos sighed.  That was true; there was simply no way he could do every task that needed doing in his House.  “Okay, anything else?”

“Any other specialized crafting buildings will help, my Lord, as they will offset the penalty we take to such things.”

“I’ll keep my eyes open.  Is there anything else I should know?”

“Elder Faraine of House Gilris asked if you knew when you would be able to provide the faymetal items you discussed.  Matriarch Ghilanna of House Luzeiros sent her regards and wished to discuss providing additional training for our members – for a price, of course.”

Aranos nodded.  “Please tell Faraine that I’m trying to establish a way to move goods from Eredain to Antas swiftly, but that if I can’t make it work in a week, I’ll fly out there with some items for her.  And let Ghilanna know that I’ll talk to her the next time that I Dreamwalk.”

“Very good, my Lord.”

Rhandyr was a short man with long, orange hair and a perpetual scowl on his face, but he’d quickly impressed Aranos with his knowledge of their holdings and how to manage them.  “We have been primarily relying upon hired labor to work what holdings we have, my Lord,” the elf said in a slightly gruff voice.  “I have, however, been working with House Luzeiros to train some of our members in the longsword, their specialty weapon, and the Houses of Blades and Twilight to provide instruction in Archery or other weapons.  As we have excellent reputation with both, negotiating such has cost very little and allowed us to follow our House’s mission of completing Quests for others.

“There are some few I would send to the Houses of the Sickle or the Stars, as well, but I wished to seek permission from you or an Elder, first, as that will be committing our members to the service of those Houses for some time.”

They spoke for about ten minutes, and in the end, Aranos offered the Elder position to the man, who gratefully accepted.  Rhandyr struck Aranos as a man with a passion for organization and getting things done, two qualities that would serve the House well.

His visit with Gwinivere turned out to be a bit less pleasant, though.  It didn’t take him long to find the woman, and when she appeared, she was dressed in a much shorter, thinner white robe than the last time he’d seen her.  Her black hair fell to the back of her legs instead of her back, and her clothing kept fading into translucence in a way that was very, very distracting to the Sorcerer.

“Oh, hello, Aranos,” the woman said almost dreamily when she saw Aranos, absently brushing a strand of her hair out of her face.  She looked around.  “Am I still asleep?  This doesn’t feel like my normal dreams.”

“It’s not,” Aranos assured her.  “We’re in the Realm of Dreams.  I just wanted to chat with you a bit.”

“Chat?  That’s all?” she said, affecting a pout.  “That’s a shame.  Fine, we can talk.  What should we talk about?”

Seriously? My Charisma is working here, too? he thought incredulously.

“It’s actually more potent, here,” Veronica’s voice spoke in his mind.  “You’re more closely connected to everything here than you are in the real world, so your Charisma has more effect.”

Great.  I seriously need to learn how to turn this off.

“Well, you know that I’ve named Mathias an Elder of the House,” he explained.

“Oh, yes, we all know.  He’s stopped insisting on being called Elder Mathias – mostly because I told him someone was going to stab him in the back if he didn’t – but he still likes to lord it over everyone.  Why did you do that, anyway?”

“Because I can trust him not to deliberately sabotage the House or try to usurp it,” he shrugged.  “Plus, he just lets Lorsan make the decisions and signs off on them.”

“That’s true.  He wouldn’t do either of those.  He’s very into honor.”  She rolled her eyes.

“But he’s also a bit dramatic, which is why I need a second Elder to kind of rein him in, just in case,” Aranos continued.  “I’m hoping that you’ll accept the position.”

“You want me to be an Elder?” she asked, her face outraged.  “What, are you saying that I’m old?”

“What?” he stammered.  “No, nothing like that!  I’m just saying – it’s just a name, it doesn’t mean anything…”

He broke off as she erupted in laughter.  “Oh, you’re easy to play, aren’t you?” she grinned at him.  Seeing his shocked expression, she shook her head.  “Come on, Aranos, haven’t you figured out why the four of us enjoy partying together?  We’re all big into the role-playing part of the game.  I’m playing Gwinivere, a very wise, calm, and restrained Priestess and healer.  It’s fun, because it’s nothing like me IRL.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed,” Aranos admitted.  “So, all of you are role-playing?”

“Yep.  Yevgeny isn’t even into women IRL; he’s playing a d-bag because he thinks it’s funny.  Rhiannon is a rule-follower, so she plays a prankster.  Me, I’m really nothing at all like Gwinivere.”  She stepped closer to him, and her robe faded into translucence once more.  “Would you like me to show you?  This is just a dream, so it’s not like it would matter, right?”

Aranos swallowed hard.  “I – I kind of thought you and Mathias were an item,” he said delicately.

“Oh, no, nothing like that.  We’ve never even met IRL.  The four of us are a pretty well-known gaming team, and Neo-dyne asked us to join the Beta test.”  She grimaced.  “Singularity’s nothing at all like most other games, though.  You have to work really hard just to find Quests, and when you get them, you have to pay close attention, or you’ll miss the best ways to complete them.  It’s hard, but it’s fun once you figure it out.”

“I agree,” he nodded.  “So, the Elder thing?”

“Fine, no fun stuff,” she sighed.  “It’s a shame; you’re a pretty hot elf, and there’s something about you that just makes me…”  She shuddered, and her robe faded almost to transparency.  “Not sure what it is, but I like it.”

“It’s my Charisma,” he coughed, his throat suddenly dry.  “It’s apparently – encouraging you.”

“Really?  I should work on my Charisma, then.”  She sighed.  “Of course, Gwinivere would never use her Charisma that way, so there’s probably not much point.”

She shook her head and looked at him slyly.  “So, you want me to be an Elder, too?”  She laughed again.  “That would show Matty.  And you’re right, his character does tend to do impulsive things.  That’s why we’re spending the night in a High Road waystation.”  She frowned, and suddenly her robe fully solidified and lengthened to her ankles, much to Aranos’ relief. 

“Actually, you should probably know this,” she spoke, and all trace of the sultry temptress vanished from her words.  So, is that character just someone she’s role-playing, too? he wondered, but she was continuing.

“We took a Quest from Wynathra in the House of Blades – I think you know her?” Aranos nodded, and she continued.  “She’d been losing scouts on the High Road and wanted us to check it out, which I assumed meant it was serious.”

He frowned but nodded as he followed her logic.  “Because if it hadn’t, she wouldn’t have sent Travelers who could die and still make it back to tell what happened,” he agreed.

“Exactly.  You’re pretty good at this; we should bring you into our team.  You could make decent money streaming, and you’re easy enough on the eyes that some of our female fans would be super excited.”

“We can talk about it another time,” he hedged.  “So, you went to the High Roads?”

“Yeah, and you were right about how hard they get.  We managed to take that first waystation, though, and from there, Rhee spotted a bunch of campfires off to the east.  Like a few hundred of them.  We think it’s an urukkai army.”

Aranos swore as he heard her words.  “You’re probably right that they’re urukkai,” he agreed.  “The Citadel of Cendarta’s that direction, and it’s packed with them.  I doubt it’s an army, though, if you’re only seeing a few hundred fires.”

“A few hundred fires could mean a couple thousand of those things,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, but urukkai are like rabbits.  They breed so fast that their masters have to send them out to be slaughtered as a form of population control.  I’ve probably killed close to a thousand of them myself, all told so far.  I’ll bet an army would be at least ten thousand or more.”

“So, what do you think they’re doing?”

“Occupying the Blightlands,” he grimaced.  “They’re probably moving to take the waystations in force.  The High Road splits at Cendarta and goes north toward Haerobel and east toward Antas.  I’ll bet the urukkai are moving to hold the road in all three directions, so they can invade Eredain and Haerobel as a way to punish Golloron for sending me to Antas.”

“Punish Golloron?” Gwinivere asked.  “Why wouldn’t he send you to Antas?”

“Because Golloron and the other rulers have been cooperating with the Darkness all this time,” Aranos sighed.  “It’s how they keep the peace, and he sent me to Antas hoping that I’d fail.  I succeeded, though, and now I’m guessing the Darkness blames him and is hitting back.”

“Well, we’re going to check it out tomorrow morning and then hightail it back to the city, so we’ll be able to send warning,” she assured him.  “They’ll be able to bring in the army and defend the place.”

“Yeah, they will,” he agreed half-heartedly, although his mind was racing.  “I think there’s a way we can use this to our advantage,” he added slowly.  She gazed at him curiously, but he shook his head.  “I have to check a few things,” he said.  “In the meantime, I think you guys have the right idea.  Check it out, report back – but for the time being, don’t take any Quests for defending the Stronghold or attacking the army unless they’re one-off Bounty Quests.  I might need everyone to be ready to move quickly.”

“What’s up?” she asked.  “You look like you’ve got some devious plan.”

“Like I said, I have to check some things,” he grinned.  “I’m hoping that once those armies start moving, though, we’re all going on a raid.”

When he awoke, his mind was awhirl, but he forced himself to calm down.  There wasn’t anything he could do yet, and thinking about it would just drive him crazy.  Instead, he pulled up his new House notification with a grin:

Quest Completed: A House United 1
Grow your noble House to the next Rank

Objective: Improve your House Rank to Young.

Difficulty: B

Reward: 2,500 XP, Base House Reputation Favored

Quest Offered: A House United 2
Grow your noble House to the next Rank

Objective: Improve your House Rank to Low.

Difficulty: B

Reward: 5,000 XP, Improved Reputation for your House

Failure Condition: Lose your Noble Title before increasing your Rank

Failure Penalty: Decreased reputation in elven lands

This is a mandatory Quest and must be accepted

Not too shabby, he thought with a grin as he read through the notifications.  Normally, a Young House would have a base reputation of Suspicious, but his own exceptional renown in the Elven Realms pushed that up to Favored.  That meant that other Houses would generally treat his members well, and it also meant that his effective reputation with every other House in Eredain went up by a level.  Getting the next rank wouldn’t be easy; he needed 340 members, 11 elders, and an assortment of Common, Uncommon, and Rare buildings, but doing so would be worth the effort.

He closed out the screen and pulled up his last level notification, glancing over his new Class Perk choices.  Class Perks, he’d come to learn, were generally the weakest ones, and since they weren’t earned through gameplay, they weren’t always as tailored as regular Perks were.  However, he did see two that immediately caught his eye: Piercing Magic and Improved Multicasting.  Piercing Magic would help him overcome magic resistance, one of the best counters against any spellcaster, and something he’d be facing more of as he leveled up, he was sure.  Multicast would let him cast four Spells at once instead of three, and that number would rise as his levels did. 

They were both great Perks, but he decided to go with Piercing Magic.  He rarely cast three Spells at once as it was; since he wasn’t really hitting against the Multicast limit now, there probably wasn’t much of a need to increase it.  He had encountered several creature types that were either resistant or immune to magic so far, though, and being able to get through that resistance – even just half the time – was a powerful bonus. 

He spent the rest of the night writing up the document he’d forgotten all about for Portia; training his Sense Intent, Leatherworking, Animal Handling, and Battlesense Skills; and adding more area to the controlled zone around Antas.  That last part was harder, now, because without the party patrolling the woods, hostile creatures had moved into many areas.  The easiest place to work from was around the Watchtower they’d first Redeemed, thanks to the oilarie tree he’d planted there.  The glowing, golden tree produced a type of pollen that was highly toxic to the Shadowborn, and the winds in the area tended to carry that pollen for some distance.  It wasn’t likely concentrated enough to kill at the kind of distances he’d pushed the boundaries out to, but judging from how it affected Martina, it would duplicate the effects of a nasty allergic reaction, meaning creatures of the Shadow were giving that tower a wide berth.

McBane hadn’t returned the next morning when Aranos and Geltheriel awoke, but a glance at his party screen told Aranos that the Rogue was unharmed and had no debuffs, which meant he was probably still working on his new Quest.  The pair grabbed breakfast and Aranos headed out to the Mages’ College once the others had come down, promising to meet them at the Adventurers’ Guild in two hours to see if there were any Quests available.

While the College was essentially unchanged from the previous day, the staff at the front counter were different, and he recognized one of them.  “Good morning Avalyn,” he smiled at the still-disgruntled looking young woman.  “How’s it going?”

The girl’s head snapped toward him, and her expression widened before taking on a sullen air.  “Oh, it’s you,” she half-pouted.  “Come to get me in trouble again?”

“In trouble?” he repeated quizzically.  “How did I get you in trouble?”

The girl’s scowl deepened.  “By doing whatever it was you did yesterday.  Apparently, I’m supposed to be able to get through the barrier myself, and they said what you did was cheating.  They had to have a full Master undo your Spell, and they blamed me for it.”

“Well, I’m sorry if you got in trouble,” he said sincerely. “I was just trying to help.  However…”  He paused; he didn’t want to make things worse for her, but he had a feeling that the Wizards weren’t going to be able to help her no matter what.

“However, what?” she snapped.

“Well, I think I know how to teach you to get through that barrier yourself,” he told her, his gaze flattening.  “In fact, I’m pretty sure I can.  I’m deciding if it’s a good idea or not.”

“You can help me?” she scoffed.  “No one can help me.  I’m hopeless.”

“No, you’re different,” he corrected.  “And I think I can teach you how to get started.”

“Really?” she asked, her face still dubious.  “I mean – I saw you undo the ward yesterday.  That means you have to be a full Wizard.  Can you really teach me?”

“Probably – but it’s not if I can, Avalyn.  The question is if I will.”

“What do you mean?” she demanded, half-rising from her seat.  “What, am I not good enough…?”

“This,” he said firmly, gesturing to her.  “This behavior.  I don’t want to teach someone who’s going to yell at me.  If you want to learn, fine, but in return, I need you to at least show some courtesy and appreciation.”

Her mouth opened as if to retort, but she took a deep breath and calmed herself.  “I’m – I’m sorry,” she said shortly.  “I’d appreciate it if you could help me.”

It wasn’t much of an apology, but he had a feeling it was the best he was going to get from the surly teen.  “I can try,” he said.  “It’ll probably take a bit.  Can you take a break?”

“If he can help you, Avalyn, I’ll cover for you,” the woman next to her said, glancing at Aranos.  “I’ll want you to stay where I can see you, though.  No offense.”

“None taken,” he smiled.  “I’m glad she has people looking out for her.”

“Thanks Silvia,” the girl sighed.  “Let’s go – you know, you never even told me your name.”

“Oran,” he supplied.  “Where should we go?  We don’t need much space, and I can create a wind barrier so no one can hear us.”

“You can sit back there on the floor,” Silvia gestured to the area hidden behind the counter.  “Like I said, where I can see you.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he chuckled.  “While we’re doing this, can you let Student Neela know that I’m here?  She’s expecting me.”

“I’ll pass it on.”

The two of them sat down on the floor, out of sight of anyone passing casually through the antechamber, and Aranos wove a barrier of Air around them, adding just enough Fire and Void mana to give it a hint of ash that would make them visible but not clearly so.  “There, that should do it.”

“Are you sure you can help me?” the girl asked, looking at the swirling, translucent barrier suspiciously.  “You’re not just trying to get me alone, are you?”

“No,” he assured her.  “I don’t even have to get near you, if it makes you more comfortable.  I just figured you’d feel less self-conscious if people couldn’t see who it was behind the barrier.”

“Okay,” she hedged.  “I guess that makes sense.  So, what should I do?”

“Answer me a question, first,” he said gently.  “You’re not really a Wizard, are you?”

The girl’s eyes flashed, and she started to rise to her feet.  “If you’re just going to insult me…”

“Not what I mean, and I think you know that,” he cut her off.  “Your Base Class – it isn’t Wizard, is it?”

“It’s a Wizard specialty,” she hedged cautiously.  “It’s just a really obscure one.”

“No, it’s not.  It’s something totally different.”  He gazed at her calmly.  “I know, because I’m pretty sure I’ve got the same Base Class.  There’s a simple way to find out, though.

“All I need you to do is close your eyes, Avalyn.”  The girl’s eyes narrowed again, and he sighed.  “I’m not going to hurt you, but you’ll need to concentrate.  I’m going to teach you your first Spell, and you’ll need to close your eyes to learn it.”

“I can’t learn Spells,” she said stubbornly, crossing her arms.  “I’ve tried; they don’t make any sense to me.  There’s no point…”

Irritation flashed through Aranos, but he tamped it down.  Getting angry wouldn’t help either of them.  However, he needed her to listen, not interrupt him and fight with him, and being nice wasn’t getting him anywhere. 

“Okay, here’s the deal,” forcing his voice to sound hard and cold.  “I’m going to teach.  You’re going to listen and do what I tell you.  No more complaining, no more telling me what can’t be done.  If you whine one more time, this lesson is over, and you can go back to struggling on your own.  Do you understand me?”

The girl stared at him silently, biting her lip, then nodded.

“Good.  Now close your eyes.”  Avalyn swallowed hard but silently complied.  “Do you know how to Meditate, yet?”

She shook her head, and he sighed.  “Fine.  Here’s what we’re going to do…”

It took him ten minutes to guide the girl into her mindscape, using his Mind mana to follow her down and appear beside her the way Golloron had once done with him.  It took another ten minutes for her to forge the grayish clouds of mana around them into something recognizable, and suddenly Aranos found himself standing in what looked like a child’s bedroom, complete with toys and colorful window hangings. 

“Interesting choice,” he observed.

“This is what my room at home looked like,” she said quietly.  “Before I came – came to the College.”  She blinked rapidly.  “I was so excited to be allowed to come – the testing Wizard said my talent was remarkable – but ever since I got here, I’ve been miserable.  Nothing works for me the way it’s supposed to, and my instructors have given up trying to help me.  I’m just an inconvenience to them…”

“Not anymore,” he cut her off, pointing to the ball of prismatic light swirling over their heads.  “See that?  That’s your mana.  Later, we’ll teach you how to aspect it, but for right now, you just need to learn how to touch it and use it to form a Spell.  Go ahead and get comfortable.”

The girl sat down on her bed, still looking disconsolate, but he ignored her sullenness.  “Close your eyes and imagine reaching out to that ball of energy with your mind,” he instructed.  “Keep trying until you can feel the energy tingling inside you.”

“I – I can feel it,” she said in an odd voice a minute or so later.  “I can feel my mana…I’ve never been able to do that before!”

“Don’t get too excited,” he warned her.  “That’s good, but it’s just a start.  Now, imagine a bit of that mana flowing from the center of your body, down your right arm, and into a ball over your hand.  Don’t just see it happening.  Feel the energy tingling through your arm.  Smell the ozone and hear it crackling over your hand.  Then, picture that ball of energy flying out and hitting an enemy.”

“What kind of enemy?”

“Doesn’t matter.  A Shadowborn.  A kid who’s mean to you.  An instructor you don’t like.  All that matters is that you can see it happening.  It should look like this.”

He did something he hadn’t done since his very first days in Ka and gathered unaspected mana into a rotating ball of cloudy, white power, lit by prismatic flickers of light.  “This is called a Mana Bolt.  It’s the first Spell most Sorcerers learn – and that’s what you are, Avalyn.”  He held out his hand and cast the Bolt against a nearby wall; it exploded in a blast of power, leaving the wall unharmed in its wake.

“Sorcerers don’t learn Spells; we craft them.  Imagination is our greatest weapon; if you can imagine a Spell, eventually you can create it, and the more clearly you can see it in your mind, the more powerful the result will be.”

She stared at him in shock.  “I never told anyone that I was a Sorcerer,” she whispered. 

“I told you; I’m one, too.”  He shook his head.  “You aren’t a bad Wizard, Avalyn.  You’re not a Wizard at all.  You can’t do things the way they’re telling you for the same reason a turtle can’t fly; it’s simply not in your nature.  Now, envision the Spell, just like I told you.”

“Okay, I can see it,” she said slowly.  “Now what?”

“Now, channel some of that SP you’ve got into the image while you replay it, over and over again.  When you run low on SP, stop and let it refill, then do it again.  It’ll probably take you several tries.”

He sat and watched as the girl sat silently; while he couldn’t see he Spell she was envisioning, he knew that she was doing something right.  The glow of her unaspected mana was slowly dimming as she channeled it into her Spell image, and as it faded almost to nothing, she stopped and opened her eyes.

“I – I could feel my mana moving,” she said breathlessly.  “I could feel it filling the Spell!  I – I’ve never felt that before!”

He nodded.  “You’ll need to keep at it,” he advised her.  “It’ll probably take several rounds of draining your SP to get the Spell to work, but once it happens, you’ll be able to cast it as much as you’d like.  Even better, unlike a Wizard’s Spell, you’ll be able to improve it as you grow more powerful instead of having to keep learning new and more powerful Spells.”

He rose to his feet.  “That should be enough to get you started.  You can feel your mana, now, so to get through the barrier, all you have to do is touch it and imagine your SP flowing down your arm and into it.  It’s that simple.  Just remember that the better you can picture it, the faster it’ll happen and the easier it’ll be.

“Now, I’m going to go see Neela; you stay here and keep practicing as long as they’ll let you.  If you can get that Spell done, try imagining creating armor next.”

“Wait,” she protested, her voice tinged with panic.  “What if I can’t do it?  Who’s going to teach me?”

“I’ll be in the city for a few days,” he assured her.  “I’ll come back and give you some more instruction, don’t worry.  We’ll have to set up a training regimen for your Mana Control – it’s way more important than Manipulation for you, trust me, and you’ll need it at the Adept level at least if you want to aspect your mana and cast Spells with fire, air, or ice.  Don’t worry, I won’t just abandon you.”

“Th-thank you,” she stammered.  “I’m sorry I was such a brat before.  I just – I thought I was worthless.”

“Well, you’re not,” he smiled at her.  “Now keep practicing.  I want to see that Mana Bolt Spell in action tomorrow.”

He willed himself from her mindscape and opened his eyes, dismissing his barrier as he rose stiffly to his feet.  Silvia was staring at him suspiciously, looking back and forth between him and the girl still sitting cross-legged on the floor, her eyes closed. 

“Well?” the woman demanded.  “Could you actually help her?”

“She should be able to get through the barrier herself now,” he shrugged, stretching out his sore muscles.  “When she comes out of her meditation, she’ll probably have her first Spell, too.”

Silvia’s eyes widened.  “Are you sure?” she asked in a whisper.  “The instructors – they said her mana channels were broken and she’d never be able to cast a Spell!”

Aranos shook his head.  “There’s nothing wrong with her or her channels,” he said firmly.  “She’s just a special kind of Wizard and needs some – unique instruction.  I happen to know how to do that, is all.”

“Well – thank you,” the woman smiled.  “She’s a good girl, really.  When she came here, she was so hopeful and excited – and now, she’s sullen and angry all the time.  I’d love to see her happy again.”

“Here’s hoping,” he smiled.  “So, did you get word to Neela for me?”

“Oh, yes,” the woman frowned.  “I’m sorry.  She’s busy this morning in some kind of meeting with her instructor and can’t meet with you.”

“Really?” he asked dubiously.  “She was expecting me; I would have thought she’d have passed me a message if something came up.”

The woman shrugged.  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say.  She is a student; her instructor may have summoned her for a spontaneous training session without her prior knowledge.  Perhaps you could return later in the day?”

Aranos frowned but didn’t argue; he doubted Silvia had any more information to give, to be honest, and it certainly wasn’t her fault if Neela’s instructor had her working extra that morning.  Still, he wondered if teaching the woman his training technique had gotten her into trouble.  He hoped not; she’d tried to be helpful, and he didn’t want to repay her kindness by causing problems for her.

“Sure, I’ll stop by later.  Just let her know I dropped in, okay?  And keep an eye on Avalyn for me.”

“I’m happy to,” Silvia smiled.  “Have a good day…and thank you, again.”

Chapter 11

He was a bit disgruntled as he left the Guild.  He’d been there twice, and both times he’d helped others and gotten nowhere for himself.  He was starting to think it would be easier just to sneak into the Spatial College and find someone to talk to without getting permission, but he wasn’t quite that desperate, yet.  Still, it wouldn’t be long, with the urukkai gathering so near to Eredain.  He had an idea of how to take advantage of it – assuming that an army was in fact heading their way – but he needed to nail down his portal magic, first.

He shook off his bad mood; there really wasn’t anything to be done about it.  He still had some time before the others were expecting him, so he located Portia at her stall in the Guild Square.  “Oran,” she greeted him as he walked up.  “Nice to see you.  I was wondering if I’d get that document you promised or not.  Thought you might have changed your mind.”

“Sorry about that,” he shrugged.  “Quest took me out of the city all day.  I wrote it up overnight, though.  Take a look at it and let me know if you have any questions.”  The document he handed over was simple enough; it set up a long-term trade agreement between Portia and House Evenshade, wherein the House would provide her any of the hides they recovered in and around Stoneleague without recompense, whereas Portia would fashion those hides into the highest quality armor she could and provide them for sale, splitting the profits 50/50. 

“Wait, what’s this about at-cost purchasing and territorial expansion rights?” the woman growled, her face confused.

“Well, I’m going to need armor for my people, as well,” he shrugged.  “So, the House can purchase up to 25% of your available stock at cost, excepting the top 10% most valuable items.  That way, I can’t buy your best stuff at cost and make us both lose out.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” she nodded.  “What’s the expansion thing?”

“Well, if you do well enough to train apprentices, you might want to use them to expand your business into other cities.  If the House has a presence there, then the same agreement carries on into that city.  If we don’t, then you can do whatever you want unless and until the House arrives there.”  He pointed to the final clause.  “You’ll also notice there’s an out for both of us.  If the partnership isn’t profitable after three months, either of us can disband it; after that point, to end the partnership, either of us tells the other we want out, the House stops providing you hides, and once you sell out the last of what you made with what we provided, we part ways.  Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” she nodded, taking out a quill and scratching her name at the bottom.  Aranos did the same and handed her a second sheet of paper and 5 square, gold coins.  “That’s your copy of the agreement and your advance,” he told her.  “Oh, and here’s the first hide you don’t have to pay for!” 

He reached into his pack and laboriously pulled out the heavy oroloke hide.  The woman’s eyes widened as he laid it out, and she ran her fingers almost reverently along it.  “It this – dragonelle?” she asked excitedly.  “Do you have any idea how valuable this is?  I could sell a hauberk made of this for almost as much as you just gave me!”  She examined the hide critically.  “You didn’t Harvest this,” she stated.  “It’s too well done.  This was done by a near-Expert.”

“You’re right, I didn’t.”

She grunted.  “Good thing, too.  I can make at least two full sets of scale armor from this.  It’ll be stronger than high steel and resist magic.  I’ll probably have enough for an extra cuirass on top of that, and maybe a set of vambraces, as well.”  She shook her head.  “Amazing.  This what took you out of the city yesterday?”

“It was, yeah.  I thought you’d like it.”

“Like it?  I’m about to kiss you over this, Oran.  Maybe more, who knows?”  She grinned at him with a wink.  “Too bad I’m gonna be busy all day moving into my new shop, huh?”

“Too bad,” he agreed, suppressing a sigh at his stupid Charisma.  “I’ll let you get started with that.  If you need anything, you can send a message to the Black Blade.”

“I know the place,” she nodded.  “It’s a good choice; Malcolm’s a decent sort, for an old Rogue.  I can get word there if I need to.  Can’t think of any reason I would, though.”  She shrugged.

“Well, better to know how to reach me and not need to, right?” he laughed.  “Good luck getting the building, and I’ll check back with you in a few days.”

The Adventurers’ Guild was quiet but slowly starting to fill when Aranos walked in.  He glanced around and saw his party gathered around a table and started walking toward them.  Before he took more than a few steps, though, he felt a tap on his shoulder, light and almost hesitant.  He turned quickly and saw Marie standing in front of him, biting her lip, looking embarrassed.

“Um, good morning, Oran,” she said hesitantly. 

“Good morning, Marie,” he said pleasantly, keeping a smile plastered to his face while silently suppressing an awkward groan.  I have got to figure out this Charisma thing!

“I – I just wanted to apologize,” the woman’s words practically tumbled from her lips.  “I didn’t realize that you were with someone, and I’d been drinking a bit, and…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said as reassuringly as possible.  “I wasn’t bothered at all, and neither was Theria.  There’s nothing at all to apologize for.”

She let out a deep sigh of relief.  “I’m glad you feel that way.  I didn’t want things to be awkward.”  She grimaced.  “Well, more awkward, anyway.”  She shook her head.  “So, are you here to pick up a new Quest?”

“I am, in fact,” he grinned.  “Is the Guildmaster still in back?”

“He’s sleeping in this morning.  Apparently, old Eagle-eye’s tolerance isn’t what it used to be.”  She rolled her eyes.  “He rose from his coma long enough to tell me what Quests I could offer you, though.  I guess you made a deal that he’d offer Guild Quests if you completed yesterday’s on time?”

“That he did.  What have you got for me?”

Her face took on a more professional cast as she spoke.  “Currently, there are four Quests available at your level.  The first is the fetch Quest you passed on yesterday.  Nonvaluable item, heavily guarded and within a day’s travel. 

“The second is another Bounty Quest, but this one’s repeatable.  Some tigroons have come out of the Darkwood Forest to the south and have been killing merchant caravans that take the Trade Road – which is all of them, since the High Road is basically a death sentence.”

“Tigroons?  I’m not familiar with them.”

“I’m not surprised.  They’ve got a rarity of Exotic, so you wouldn’t likely recognize them unless you’ve got an Expert-ranked Lore Skill.  They’re giant hunting cats, about the size of a horse, with huge teeth and bony scales protecting their heads, necks, and backs.  Nasty things, and one of them is a match for a normal sized patrol.”

Aranos nodded.  “That’s straightforward enough.  What about the other Quests?”

“The other two are – a bit more complicated and involve disappearances.”

“Disappearances?” he repeated, thinking back to when Golloron had killed a group of elven elders to steal their knowledge and had then framed Keryth of Exxidor for it.  “What kind of disappearances?”

“The kind where people just vanish without a trace,” she sighed.  “The first is probably the simpler of the two.  Over the past several days, multiple patrols have gone missing on the road between Stoneleague and Northmoor, to the east along the Eastrun River.”

“Boat patrols?” he asked curiously.

“Road patrols,” she corrected.  “There’s a trade road that runs across the Blightlands between the two Kingdoms.  Needless to say, it’s heavily patrolled to allow caravans to cross the Blightlands in at least relative safety, but those patrols have simply been vanishing.  There’s usually a sign of a battle, but there are no bodies, and the Rangers who’ve examined it say that the patrols walked away under their own power but vanished soon after.  Quite a mystery.”

Aranos frowned.  He’d seen something like that along the High Road, with the urukkai; they’d been ambushed by monsters but hadn’t been killed and had just walked away.  If there’s some new type of monster out there that is somehow mind-controlling creatures, it would be worth looking into.   “What about the other disappearances?”

“That’s trickier,” she admitted.  “The Mages’ College reached out to us for this one, which they almost never do.  Apparently, some of their members have simply vanished without a trace.”

“Vanished as in, left the College unexpectedly?” Aranos asked.  “Or did they actually vanish from the College?”

“Neither.  They went into the city for various reasons – no, not all on the same tasks – and just…disappeared.  Rangers can’t Track them, and Wizards can’t locate them magically.  Poof, they’re gone.”

Okay, that was interesting and presented some unique opportunities.  For one thing, it might give him reputation with the College, which would certainly help him get into the College of Spatial Magic – or whatever it was called.  If he could rescue a bunch of Wizards, or at least find out what was happening to them and stop it, the College would have to offer him a reward, and he could probably ask for it to be entrance into that private group.  At the same time, this sounded like a deep, complicated Quest, one that could run for days, and Aranos didn’t want to be away from Antas for that long.  Plus, he didn’t know if he’d need the boost; it was possible that Neela’s dean could get him into the College without help. 

He sighed.  Both of those Quests looked tempting, and both were bad ideas for him.  They probably led to larger storylines that would culminate in some great battle to save the city, but he didn’t have time for either of them.  It didn’t make sense for him to take a Quest that would probably leave him out of the city for days when his main focus was here.  It also didn’t make sense for him to throw himself into a Quest that would probably give him rep with the Wizards if it turned out he didn’t need it.  After all, Neela might still be able to get him into the College, possibly as early as today – although he was sure it wouldn’t be that simple.  However, there might be a way to get some use from those other Quests…

“The Bounty Quest,” he finally replied.  “I honestly don’t want to get bogged down in something bigger right now.  However, I’ve got too big of a party for a Bounty Quest.  Any way they could take one of the disappearance Quests?”

Marie frowned.  “That depends.  Are they Guild members?  What levels are they?”

“They’re Guild members – at least I’m pretty sure they are, but I can check – and they’ve all got Advanced Classes at either level 2 or 3.”

“That’s a bit low for this Quest,” she hedged, then sighed.  “But no one else is taking it, and the King’s climbing up our butts about it.  I guess Queen Ysabelle of Northmoor lost a sizable patrol yesterday, and the trade road’s been closed to merchant traffic.  With the tigroons to the south, Stoneleague’s now isolated, and while we can feed ourselves, we import a lot.  This Quest just became a priority, so if they’ll take it, fine.  Just let them know that it’ll still be available for others to take, so they might run into more people going after the same Quest.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind,” he laughed.  “We had someone else competing with us for our last big Quest.  Half of that party ended up joining us.”

“And the other half?” she asked, her eyebrows raised curiously.

“Turned on their party members.  We handled that – appropriately.”

“Good,” she said, her eyes blazing.  “Nothing worse than turncoats in a party.”  She sighed.  “Well, go let them know that if they want it, it’s theirs, providing they’re members of the Guild.”  She gave him a wan smile.  “I’ll talk to you later.”

He walked over and sat down next to Geltheriel, noting the sly grins around the table as he did.  “Go ahead,” he sighed.  “Get it out of your systems.”

“Get what out?” Longfellow scoffed dramatically.  “We’re all simply excited to see our fearless leader making new friends – and such well-endowed ones, at that!”

“Don’t be rude, Shortfellow,” Meridian smacked the Archer lightly with the back of her hand.  “Personally, I’m just proud of him for going with experience.  That woman could probably rock the hell out of your world, Oran.” 

“Take it easy, people,” Hector chuckled.  “It’s not his fault that every lady in a four-block radius wants to climb all over his bones.  Can’t you see how much he’s suffering?”

“Not every lady,” Geltheriel corrected.  “Some of us have self-control, after all.”

“And good on you for that, honey,” Meridian laughed.  “Me, I’ll take bone-climbing every day.”  She gave Aranos a smoldering gaze that quickly devolved into a chuckle.

“I don’t see it, sorry,” Martina shrugged with a grin.  “I mean, you’re not bad or anything, Oran.  I just prefer my men to have trouble walking straight, if you get my drift.  Maybe if you get that option in a race change, we can talk.”

The whole table laughed at that, and Aranos couldn’t help but join in.  “That’s right, have your fun,” he told them, shaking his head.  “I’ll have you know that your leader got not one but two high-level Quests today, and one of them promises to be a long-term questline that’ll probably take you to Northmoor and get you favor with the King here and the Queen there.  However, if you guys just want to make fun of me…”

“Okay, okay, we’re done,” Phil laughed. “Come on, give.”

“Well, the first is a Bounty Quest, because I don’t really want to get tangled up in a deeper questline, myself.  I figured Theria, Reece, and I could join my Companion to handle that one.”  As he spoke, he pulled up the offered Quest and read it through:

Quest Offered: To Skin a Cat
A pack of tigroons has been attacking caravans along the Trade Road to Avendale.  You’ve been asked to thin their numbers.

Objective: Bring back two tigroon heads.

Difficulty: B

Reward: 3,000 XP, 2 gold, increased reputation with the following: Stoneleague, the Adventurers’ Guild, the Merchants’ Guild, Avendale.

Bounty Quest: This Quest can be repeated to receive the reward multiple times.

Do you accept? (Yes/No)

He described the Quest to the others, and Phil frowned.  “That’s a decent reward.  Not much gold, but a lot of XP.  These tigroons must be pretty tough.”

“I think it’s more that the city’s desperate,” Aranos shook his head.  “I’ll share the other Quest with you, and you’ll get why they are.”  He called up the second Quest’s notification and willed it to be shared with the rest of the party:

Quest Offered: On the Road to Northmoor
Something or someone has been causing patrols on the eastern Trade Road to vanish.  The King is demanding that someone locate those responsible and stop their depredations.

Objective: Clear the Trade Road to Northmoor.

Difficulty: A

Reward: 7,500 XP, 1 platinum, increased reputation with the following: Stoneleague, Northmoor, the Adventurers’ Guild, King Hugin, Queen Ysabelle

Failure Condition: Fail to drive off or slay whatever is attacking the patrols.

Failure Penalty: Decreased reputation with all of the above.

Secondary Objective: Discover the fate of the missing patrols and bring back survivors.

Reward: 100 XP per survivor, increased reputation with the Stoneleague Guards, increased reputation with the Northmoor Guards.

Shareable Quest: This Quest may be shared with others and attempted by multiple parties at the same time.

Do you accept? (Yes/No)

Phil grinned as he read the notification.  “Now that’s a serious Quest,” he said excitedly.  A moment later, he frowned.  “But if we take this, we’ll have to split the party.  It’ll probably take us all the way to Northmoor, and going to a new region will break the party anyway.”

“We can restore it once you come back,” Aranos promised him.  “It’ll only be for a couple days.”

“Longer than that, mate,” Longfellow shook his head.  “A, Northmoor’s a five-day trip under normal circumstances, probably a lot longer with whatever’s going on.  B, tomorrow’s logout.  Or did you forget that again?”

Aranos grimaced; he had in fact forgotten that they were on day six of the seven-day login cycle.  “Yeah, it slipped my mind,” he admitted.  “That puts a bit of a kink in everyone’s plans, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” Martina shook her head.  “We can take the Quest, head out this morning, and get as far as possible toward Northmoor in a day.  We’ll camp, log out in the morning, and pick right back up where we left off on Sunday.  No big deal.”

“What about McBane?” Meridian asked.  “Should we wait for him?”

Phil shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  I messaged him this morning to see if he wanted to join us, and he said he’s in the middle of a Class Quest right now.”

“Yeah, something to do with his other Guild,” Aranos nodded.  “I guess his Class Trainer set it up for him.”

“That leaves us low on DPS,” Meridian pointed out.

“Hector and I will join you,” Martina volunteered.  “I’m anxious to get out of the city – and out from under this disguise, in all honesty.”  She glanced at the broad warrior.  “That okay, Hector?”

“Sounds good to me,” the Warrior laughed.  “I’ve been itching to start a new Quest, anyway.”  He looked back at Aranos.  “Will the three of you be okay in the city, though?  You don’t really know the place.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Aranos assured him.  “Between McBane, Malcolm, and Neela, we should be okay.”  He frowned.  “Speaking of Neela, she missed our appointment this morning.  Did you hear anything from her?”

“Not a peep,” the man shrugged. 

“Phil can forward your info to her and hers to you,” Martina pointed out.  “If we’re going to be gone, it’d be better if the two of you could chat.”  She shrugged.  “I’d do it, but you and I aren’t connected.”

“Which is an oversight on my part,” Aranos grimaced.  “I’m only connected to Phil, which is dumb.  Hold on…”  He quickly sent out friend invites to everyone else in the party and received confirmations immediately.  “There.  Now we can stay in touch as long as you’re near Stoneleague, if nothing else.”  A moment later, a message from Martina popped up with Neela’s handle and contact info, and he sent her back a quick thank you.

“Well, we should get going,” Phil said, rising to his feet.  “Might as well make it official, Oran, and boot us from the party.”

Aranos pulled up his party screen and removed all the humans except for McBane.  “There you go.  You’re free to create a party of your own, now.”

“You mean Martina is,” Phil corrected, glancing at the woman.  “She’s a better Party Leader than I am.  At least, I think she will be now.”

“Thanks,” the woman muttered, and Aranos saw her concentrating on something.  “I can add all of you, but that’s my limit with my Charisma.”  She shrugged.  “I’m not like Oran over here, gathering all the sexy people, sorry.”

“That’s all we need, though, isn’t it?” Longfellow laughed.  “This is one of those cases where good enough is good enough, and apparently, you’re just sexy enough for this party.”

“I’m too sexy for any party that would let you in the door,” Martina countered archly.  “I’ll slum it with you people for a while, though.  It promises to be fun.”

Aranos watched a bit sadly as the party said their goodbyes and walked out of the Guild.  It was necessary, but while he liked the elves’ company, there was something freeing about being around a bunch of players.  For the most part, they didn’t take things seriously, which let Aranos relax and enjoy himself more.  For the elves, nothing in Singularity was a game; this was their reality, danger was real to them, and death was permanent.  That made every Quest a bit more dangerous, darker, and more desperate.

Still, it was the best decision; asking them to put off an awesome Quest just to sit around while he pursued one they couldn’t was foolish – and sort of selfish.  Going with them would mean stepping back from Geltheriel’s Quest, though, and he couldn’t do that.  He, Rhys, Geltheriel, and Silma would be fine – although they still needed another tank.  He could have asked Hector to stay, but that would have sucked for the Warrior, and Phil’s class was just too unique to waste sitting around in the city.  

It was odd, really.  He’d never exactly been a social butterfly.  He spent most of his nights IRL alone, either gaming, coding, or watching the holo-TV.  The only exceptions were the nights that Phil dragged him out to see a movie or grab something to eat, insisting that Aranos spent too much time alone.  In Singularity, though, he loved having people around him and had grown comfortable with the noise, the laughter, and the casual teasing that drove him crazy IRL.

He sighed and shook his head; there would be time for that later.  He gestured to Geltheriel and Rhys, and they rose from their seats.  Before he left, he flagged down Marie one last time. 

“Quick question; do you know where the most recent tigroon attack was?” 

“I have no idea,” the woman shrugged.  “I guess you can check over at the Merchant’s’ Guild and see if they’ll tell you.  I don’t know why they wouldn’t, but you never know with merchants.”

“Is that off the Guild Square?”

“Yeah, on the southern side.  Smallest all-stone building on that side, oddly enough; as much money as the merchants make, you’d think they could afford something bigger.”

“Maybe that’s how they keep all their money?” he laughed.  “They only pay for what they need instead of spending it on what they want.”

“May the gods spare us if adventurers ever start thinking that way,” Marie breathed.  “This place would go broke in a day!  Now get out of here and go make us some more money!”