Aliandra Ali blinked and then had to squint as she stepped out of the Adventurers Guild into the bright afternoon sunshihe street out front was not a major thhfare, but it was still close enough to the marketpce that there was a stant bustle of busy people flowing past, going about their business, a far enough that the pervasive odor of m trash and worse that Ali had e to associate with Myrin’s Keep had subsided to only a mild assault on her nose.

  Although the sun shone brightly, Ali’s Kobue – the one she had summoo demonstrate her abilities to Vivian Ross – simply vanished from sight the moment they left the building.

  How does it do that? There were no shadowy areas for it to slip into and hide. Nor had she seen any obvious mana usage. However, she could still feel the subtle pull on her mana tellihat he lurked nearby, watg over her.

  While their meeting with the Guildmaster had been cut short, Ali felt it was food reason. “It’s a relief that she took us seriously about the Goblins,” she said, as her friends joined her outside on the cobbled street.

  “Definitely,” agreed. He seemed the happiest of them all. Malika and Mato still seemed a little uain, even sullen, but Ali was sure it was because of Vivian’s ued suggestion about a role ge.

  “What did you guys think of her?” Ali asked, trying to draw them into a versation to see what exactly was b them.

  “She’s very experienced and knowledgeable,” Malika observed, “But…”

  “I don’t know if I want to be the tank all the time,” Mato fihe thought, getting a nod of agreement from Malika.

  So, I was right. It had felt like a huge torrent of new information to Ali, and she knew she would take a while to process it herself, so it wasn’t all that surprising that her friends had reservations, too. They ’t both tank… wait, is that a thing?

  “She had good reasoning,” offered, but Ali could clearly see it wasn’t the logical part of the argument that was most problematic.

  “She said it was a suggestion. We could try it a few times like we did with the Goblin Warband, but we don’t have to stick with it if you don’t like it.”

  Ali’s peacemaking suggestion got a quick smile and a nod from the two of them.

  “I’d be it out a few times, I guess,” Malika said, sing the street as if cheg for thugs.

  Mato simply grunted, before rolling his shoulders as if to suggest he’d be ready to tank a few more Bugbears right now.

  “What should we do now?” Ali asked.

  “We should get some supplies,” said.

  “Too bad there isn’t a pruild Store,” Malika frowned.

  “What’s that?” Ali asked.

  “Many guilds have a dedicated mert who specializes in catering to the needs of adventurers – buying unwaems like those Goblin armors we had to sell, and member dists for only needed supplies,” expined. “They are granted special permission by the to deal ihat may be sidered too dangerous for the general market. But this guild is still very new, it doesn’t have o. We don’t need much, though, so that store will probably be fine.” He pointed across the street to a gray stone building. A garishly painted yellow sign hung from a wooden pole jutting out over the doorway.

  The Prepared Adventurer.

  “vely located,” Ali said dryly, eyeing the building. Clearly, until retly it had been something else – there was a half-dismantled loading do the outside and a hoist bolted to the stone of the side of the building. There were ample signs of ret renovation – not yet pleted – turning it into a store that appeared to exist solely to capitalize on the new guild across the street.

  “At least we don’t have to traipse across town again,” Malika said. “Let’s go check it out.”

  Ali followed the others into the shop, her eyes taking a moment to readjust to the dimmer light of the interior. It was crowded and cramped ihough not from lots of ers. Racks and narrow shelves were arranged in tight rows, bursting with an enormous array of camping gear. Large ses further within dispyed rows ed boots, entire shelves full of climbing gear, and ropes of all sorts of lengths. Pots and pans hung from nails on the wall, g together gently from the breeze they had let in. Portable fire starters, advertised as ‘ideal for when you don’t have a Fire Mage’, were artfully set out at the perfect height to catch the eye.

  The bare wooden floors creaked below their feet, and the air smelled of worked leather and fresh mortar, with just a hint of smoky fme ing from the nearby shelf of fire starters. Ali coughed at the sudden reminder of Kobold Fireballs.

  “We don’t have a lot of money, but here’s what I got from selling the Goblin gear in the market earlier,” Malika said, showing some s on her palm.

  “We get the essentials,” said, sizing up their loot with a calg look.

  Ali immediately got lost as the three of them began a rapid-fire discussion of options. All she was able to catch was that they needed a lot of stuff before Malika darted off between the loaded shelves and racks to fis and Mato raced in the opposite dire looking for cooking gear, bumping almost everything along the way with his broad shoulders.

  remained nearby iing packs and rope.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  “Well, some outdoor equipment will make camping underground a lot more fortable,” he answered, “especially as you and Malika are basically living down there.”

  “But I ’t carry it, or pay for it,” Ali objected. Mato always carried his pack, and it was huge. But then he was huge and very strong. She, however, was not.

  “You have your new ring, remember?” reminded her. “And we’ll share the money Malika got for selling gear. We ear together – well, we should probably discuss loot as a team soon.”

  “Oh, ok.” Ali had been worried about how to earn money, but she hadn’t realized she already had. Even though it probably wasn’t that much, she hadn’t realized they would automatically share, and a lot of her ay eased.

  It probably could have been a lot more, she thought, gng at her new favorite wooden bahat she wore on her left wrist. Malika had mentiohat it robably worth more than the rest of their haul. Is it really fair?

  “Hey, ,” she asked, “why did I get a share of the gold when I got this?” She raised her wrist showing her prize.

  looked up from his browsing. “Oh, that’s just how adventurer groups split loot. Well, the smart ohat is. It’s impossible to predict when you’ll find something useful, so the most successful groups simply assign items acc to maximum be for the team. The rogue always gets the daggers, the archer gets the first pick of the bows, and the mage gets the bah Mana Regeion. Anythi over is split evenly fold or vanity purposes.”

  “Vanity?”

  “Like Mato wanting a huge mace to show off in town.”

  She giggled. “I see.” The mace certainly wouldn’t improve the team’s fighting ability given that Mato used his cws and fangs. But the regeion she received from the bangle would always be useful in a fight. “That seems like a smart approach.”

  “It even has a ’s called the ‘need befreed’ system,” added.

  “Thanks.” Well, that expins it. It seemed like a det system, and ’s expnation had taken quite a load off her mind as soon as she realized nobody was going to resent her for taking the most valuable item in their haul.

  Intense discussion drew her attentioo the front desk where there seemed to be a vigorous dispy of gesticutioween Malika and the shop owner. Are they fighting? Did she just threaten to throw Mato at him? Ali stared openmouthed at Malika, listening with growing amazement as her friend bargained with the mert, effitly rebuffing his attempts to upsell them fancy magical versions of everything. In surprisingly short order, the volume subsided, and the animated gestures were repced with smiles and handshakes as they came to an agreement that was vely within their price range. She’s clearly dohis before.

  With a satisfied grin, Malika returned and helped Ali fold everything they had chosen for her into a sturdy olive-green pack that was almost as tall as she was. Each of them, she noticed, had chosen quite a differe of equipment; Mato had a set of pots and pans dangling from his pack – naturally, given his pent for food – and had picked more varieties of rope than Ali could imagine ever needing. What does the weave of the rope and the fiber have to do with anything? At least he picked some nice colors.

  For her pack, they had selected a small portable tent, a sleeping bag sized fhat felt so soft she couldn’t wait to try it, a magical fire lighter, and a polished stoh a water purification rune inscribed on it – items with simple entments for those who didn’t have the relevant magical affinity or skills. She was, of course, going to learn that purification rune as soon as she had the ce to study it. The rest of her pack was filled with various ies for living in the wild. Like soap, spare socks, and a small knife.

  “Uh, why do we o pack everything if we each have a ste entment?” Ali had never owned one – magical ste items had always been well out of her price range as a student. In fact, she felt it was remarkably generous of the Adventurers Guild to provide such a luxury, but the others seemed to think it was essential adventuring gear.

  “It should be easier tanize in the ring,” said, and with a tiny puff of mana, his entire pack vanished.

  It was a surprising and remarkable thing watg the spatial entment work. With the infusion of just a few points of his mana, the entire rge pack had just been drawn through a temporary portal of space magiewhere unknown. She knew how it worked, in theory – the entment provided easy access to a small bubble of space – but watg the magic work was what fasated Ali.

  Toug her pack, she eled her mana and studied the rapid fluctuations of magic emitted by the ring’s entment. Space itself seemed to fold, ing her pa distorted shimmers for an instant, and then it vanished. When she ied her ring, she could once agaihe dim interior in the back of her mind. Only this time, she found her pack, and the inal Recall Potion, h in the ented closet in her mind, just waiting for whenever she o retrieve them. She chose the pad retrieved it before st it again, just trying to familiarize herself with the process – and, of course, to take another ce to withe magifold. She moved the potion a few times too, notig that – even though it was a tiny amount – it cost the same amount of mana for the small potion and the huge pack. I guess that’s what meant? She peered at the inside of her ring. If she hadn’t packed everything, it would probably appear cluttered, and she would have to spend a lot more mana to get stuff in and out.

  Oher hand, she couldn’t directly retrieve anything from ihe pack. I should keep the recall potion separate, she decided. If she ever in an emergency, she didn’t want to be retrieving her pad digging through it to find the potion. Hmm. Actually, I o think more carefully about how I store things iure.

  Bronze Guild Ring – level 1 signifying bronze-level membership with the Adventurers Guild.Owner: Aliandra Amariel.Quests: Eliminate hostile Kobolds in and around Myrin’s Keep – 0 Mana: Store or retrieve an item. Capacity: 6.2 / 25kg.Created by Giddy Clicksprocket.Ring

  Ali emerged from the mildly custrophobifines of the supply shop stepping out into the street once again, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face, happy that she was familiar with her new ring, and that she didn’t o carry everything on her back. And there’s still quite a bit of room in there, she thought as they made their way to the market. Most importantly, while she had more than six kilograms of stuff stored inside – a sizeable pertage of her own body weight – it still weighed the same as a normal ring.

  While Mato shopped at the nearby vendors for food, Ali took in the delightful sights and smells of the street merts as they cooked and hawked their wares to the passing townsfolk. There were even buskers trying to attract the attention – and – of the passersby with fantastic shows of magie young man with a shock of crimson hair, furry ears, and unusual facial tattoos produced a beautiful bouquet of small flowers made entirely of fme ahem floating around Ali as she watched with enraptured fasation before he moved the dispy to another passing woman who had dropped a copper into his colle tin.

  His show was entirely silent, a stark trast from the noisy market, and Ali wondered if he could even speak. But he seemed amazingly popur, earning quite a few tips in the short time Ali was waiting. Her Are Insight enabled her to admire the incredible magical strus that gave rise to his delicately beautiful dispy.

  He’s really talented, she thought, dropping a few small s into his tin with a k, k, k that brought a delighted smile to his face.

  Are Insight has reached level 7.

  Oh! Maybe I’ll just watch him for a little longer.

  ***

  “Are there any good bookstores or libraries in Myrin’s Keep?” Ali asked at a suitable lull in ’s menting the ck of a good Bowyer iown’s crafting districts. She had not had the opportunity to read anything other than Mato’s Druidic magic book and ’s book which seemed to be a colle of fantastical stories about a legendary Night Elf adventurer clearing out impossible dungeons.

  “Yes,” Malika answered. “But both are quite expensive.” Ali quirked an eyebrow at her. “The library is he tower, and it works a little like a guild, but the membership dues are higher than most people are willing to pay.”

  “You seem to know a lot about it,” said.

  “I had quite a few… jobs… there,” Malika said, her eyes gng away as if she was quite unfortable. “Books are on targets for thievery because of their value. Adrik and Edrik used to run a racket where they would get someoo steal a book, and then they would ‘find’ it and cim the finder’s fee.”

  “Everything costs money,” Ali sighed. She had nothing to her name, except the clothing she was wearing – and even that had been a gift – and her guild ring, which she still o pay off. Which, teically, meant she was in the red. She had joihe guild because her friends thought it was a good idea, but she still didn’t have the foggiest idea of how to actually earn any money from her membership. “How do I even make money with my css?”

  “Quests,” Mato replied, providing the obvious answer, airely missing the point.

  “The Kobold exterminatio looks like it pays very well, and you and Mato vely found their ir, so we will have an advantage,” Malika answered. “And if the Guildmaster vihe Town cil, we should see some profitable jobs on the quest board tomorrow reted to the town’s defense efforts.”

  “Like killing Goblins?”

  “Yes, but seg a town against a dungeon-break requires a lot more than just fighting,” answered. “Likely there will be a lot more quests to collect materials and ingredients for the crafters to make arrows or potions and all the other supplies necessary to survive.”

  “If the herbalists want something collected, I help you with that,” Mato said. “Perhaps you even learn to make whatever they need and have a steady source of ine?”

  Ali nodded. “I was hoping you might say that. Yes please.”

  They all seemed to have very practical suggestions – even Mato’s offer to help set Ali’s mind at ease. Fighting a horde of Goblins sounded scary, but in smaller groups, it might be manageable. Colleg herbs did sound nid peaceful – if she could make money doing that, she was all for it.

  “I guess, if I ’t do anything till tomorrow at the soo, I’ll just go back down to the Grove. I want to recover from my withdrawal,” Ali said. The ache was bugging her, and holy, she was quite excited to try out her ree imprint.

  “While we’re still in town, why not visit the bcksmith?” Malika suggested.

  “Why would I do that?”

  “Vivian Ross suggested that you get better equipment for yues. There aren’t a lot of leather armor options, but a bcksmith could have some good daggers. It’ll be fun – e I’ll e help you bargain.”

  “Oh, ok,” Ali said, agreeing quickly. She had fotten that suggestion in the deluge of new information Vivian had subjected them to. With a quick agreement to meet back at the Grove ter, they split up, the boys heading out to visit their families, while she followed Malika to the bcksmith quarter.

  Malika led her north to where the town butted up against the mountainside – now unreizable from her three-thousand-year-old memories. The enormous ndslide that had buried the forest and the Grove, while she had in encased in her mother’s protective spell, had almost sliced it in two, leaving a sheer cliff face that was still jagged and sharp after so many years. The road led directly into the mountain, through a wrought stone archway that was carved with what had, no doubt, once been a delicate relief sculpture – now worn from the long passage of time. How old is Myrin’s Keep?

  The passage led surprisingly deep into the mountain, lit at regur intervals by smoky sces bearing e-red flickering lights fashioned with fire magic. Faux cobblestone had been carved into the face of the solid rock beh Ali’s feet, turning the passageway into a street that led past several shops and even a bank hollowed out of the mountain oher side before it reached a cul-de-sac at the end. There she found herself gazing along an underground circur – if she were being very generous with the term – street lined with a noisy row of fes and smithies hewn directly into the rock.

  So noisy, no wohey put them out of the way, she thought, w exactly how the smoke of the fires hadn’t filled the air, choking everyone. Sweating borers, stripped to the waist, toiled in the hazy air, pushing a steady stream of creaking handcarts loaded high with ks of ore, sloshing barrels, or stacks of wood to feed the hungry hive of industry up ahead.

  Malika strode fidently up to the rgest and most promily located smithy and pulled open the bureel doors with an ease of movement that spoke volumes for the precision craftsmanship of the owner.

  Ali stepped through the doorway and was immediately hit by a wall of heat and he interior of the smithy could best be described as trolled chaos. Behind the typical store-front ter, with its dispyed wares, y a vast sprawling area filled with glowing fes and smiths hammering molteal upon huge bck steel anvils. The magic of crafting skills flickered and fshed, g with one another in a violent dispy of light and noise, reminding her painfully of her withdrawal headache. There were dozens of apprentices dressed in soot-stained leather aprons dashing bad forth at the behest of shouted orders, carrying crates of ore, buckets of water, tools, and a whole host of other obscure errands.

  Presently, a bald, sweating man with a singed leather apron worn over his protruding belly appeared from the ba and walked up to the ter with a smile on his face.

  “What I do for you fine dies?”

  Bcksmith – Human – level ??

  “We’re looking for a couple of daggers,” Malika said, switg to the same fident manner Ali had seen her use at the supply shop earlier.

  Ali was immediately grateful to her for taking charge of the iations.

  Happily, the smith pulled out a sele of ornate jeweled daggers, pg them carefully on the ter for them to i. “These are the fi craftsmanship, look at the sparkle of the gar in the hilt.”

  “I’m sorry,” Malika said, “That looks like an apprentice project. We’re looking for something more practical and in the range of about five silver.”

  The man’s fastantly sched into a scowl, and he said, “Don’t waste my time girls, go py adventurer somewhere else.” He scooped up the daggers and turned, stalking off while muttering angrily.

  fused, Ali looked at Malika as they left, “What was his problem?”

  “This is going to be harder than I thought,” Malika said, sounding rather frustrated. “He saw our fancy clothes and thought we were nobles looking to drop lots of gold on those toys.”

  Ali g herself, a little surprised to find she was still wearing the geous outfit Lydia had made for her. And here I am traipsing around in a smithy.

  The sed smithy turhem away in an almost identical manner, even though this time Malika deliberately asked for practical ons up front and spicuously avoided pointing out the ck of quality when they were offered simirly ornate work.

  “I don’t want to have to get ged to get proper service,” Ali said angrily at their third failure. “This is annoying. Should we ask the boys for help?” She was loath to admit defeat and ask for help with such a trivial task, but the surprising wall of rudehey had just been subjected to left her at a loss for how to proceed.

  “Healika excimed. “I’m not about to ask them for help. Mato will probably get an over-infted opinion of his importance. Let’s try another one.”

  While Ali was quite certain Mato was not actually that kind of person, she appreciated Malika’s determination and persistence.

  “What about that one?” Ali asked, pointing to a smaller smithy tucked away at the end of the row, with a dipidated sign hanging askew that read: Thuli’s Steelworks. It looked forlorn and run-down and, frankly, she felt a little sorry for the building.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” Malika answered, peering at it thoughtfully. “Seems like this Thuli might need some business. If he’s evehat is.”

  The atmosphere upoering Thuli’s Steelworks could not have been more different from the previous bcksmith shops. The air was cold and stale, and the entire smithy, if it could even be called that, was dim and quiet. None of the chaos or heat, nor the noise of busy apprentices and ringing anvils filled its walls. It took Ali several moments before she even noticed the broad-chested Dwarf slouched over a book at the long, scuffed wooden table.

  Bcksmith – Dwarf – level ?? (Ember)

  A deep red, sm heat radiated out through the cracks in a fractured core of coal-bck mana buried within his broad chest – the slumbering glow of a still-hot campfire after all the fme had faded.

  Ember? That’s an unusual affinity, she thought, mesmerized for a moment, w what sorts of magic he might be able to do with it.

  “Excuse me? Are you Thuli?” she called out to him. He was short and squat, and like most Dwarves, a little taller than Ali, but broader around in the chest than four or five of her. His enormous beard and red hair were braided untidily, and he looked like he hadn’t bathed in weeks.

  Smells like he hasn’t bathed in weeks. Ali wrinkled her nose as she caught his fragrant aroma. He doesn’t look like he’s slept, either. He seemed to be studying the book with a desperate iy, driveirely by willpower and focus when, going by his haunted look, he should have colpsed from exhaustion several days ago.

  “Go away. I don’t have time for your kind.” The Dwarf didn’t even bother looking up.

  Does he hate me because I’m Fae? Or because I’m a woman? Ali shared a worried gh Malika, but she didn’t want to be rebuffed yet again. “I’m looking to buy a couple of daggers,” she said.

  The Dwarf looked up at her, something dark and red glowing in the depths of his eyes. With a gruff, dismissive tone said, “I don’t sell toys to little rich girls, go bother one of the other fancy smiths.”

  Ali’s frustration boiled over. Switg to Dwarven, a nguage she felt far better suited for expressing her anger, she retorted, “Do all the smiths in this town have a problem selling ons to women? Perhaps you’re uo make real ons. I’m here to buy a prger for stabbing real monsters. And you treat me like a girl, I would have thought a Dwarf of all people would not look down on someone for being short.”

  Thuli stared at her, speechless. Ali was rather proud of the fact that she had enough restraint to avoid the tless colorful swearwords that the Dwarven nguage seemed so uniquely suited to. At least, the normal words sounded harsh enough to satisfy her.

  “You have a bit of a temper, girl.” While the Dwarf’s words were still frontational, aill referred to her as ‘girl’, his tone was substantially more subdued, perhaps even respectful.

  “The daggers?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Fine. You should be able to find one or two suitable pieces for your level in that bihere.” Thuli indicated a rge, shallow wooden bin over by the wall that seemed to be filled with random ons as he returned his attention to the book in front of him. “Anything you find in there you have for five silver each.”

  His attitude was atrocious, but Ali was just happy that they were further along than they had gotten with any of the other smiths. She reached into the bin, picked up a shiny steel dagger, and identified it.

  Steel Dirk – level 12Damage: Pierg, PhysicalRequirements: 42 DexterityOne Handed – Dagger – Steel

  “Is this any good?” Ali asked in a whisper, showing it to Malika. It certainly seemed sharp enough.

  Malika shook her head. “Here, this is a good one,” she said, handing Ali peared to be a rather pin and simple on – at least to her untrained eyes.

  Steel Dagger – level 10Damage: Pierg, PhysicalRequirements: 35 DexterityCreated by Thuli.One Handed – Dagger – Steel

  “I don’t see a big difference,” Ali admitted, examining Malika’s choice. The only obvious thing she could see was the mana signature on the sed one. “And it’s a lower level.”

  “It Appraised as Masterwork quality, so it will do more damage. It’s also a better level for yues, and it’s worth a fair bit more than the five silver he’s asking,” Malika expined in a low whisper. “Here’s anood one,” she added, seeming a little surprised and examining her find curiously for a moment before handing it to Ali. “Odd. I ’t imagine why he’d leave these in a random bin.”

  It took just a few minutes, and Malika had selected four Masterwork daggers, all quite simir; funal and simple, and the best quality she could find.

  Ali took her haul over to the table and id them before Thuli, and thewenty silver she had borrowed from beside them.

  Thuli reached over and picked up one of the daggers and peered at it with his bloodshot eyes. “I see you have a keen eye.”

  “I hope you’re not going to try to ge the pri us,” Malika said, staring him down.

  “No,” he said, sighing, and pced the dagger ba the table. “I may not be worth muymore, but at least my word is still good.”

  As Ali collected her new daggers, her eyes settled on the now-closed book Thuli had been reading.

  The History of Dal’mohra: The Lost City of Learning

  Her heart skipped as she caught her breath ihroat. A book about home! “I would love to read that book,” Ali blurted out, without a moment’s hesitation.

  “You really should mind your own business,” he answered grumpily. “Now take ygers and be on your way. Before I get upset.”

  Ali frow his rude response, but she simply stored the daggers in her ring, keeping her annoyao herself. She had had her fill of rudeness for one day and simply wao leave.

  “He was really crusty,” Ali pined as they left the bcksmith quarters.

  “Yes, crustier than a week-old loaf of bread, but he was also the only one who would sell us anything,” Malika answered, and then after a bit of a pause, she added, “His work is remarkably good. All the daggers with his mana signature were Masterwork quality. Not many smiths put that much care into low-level items – I doubt we could have gotteer anywhere else.”

  “Then why does he have such a horrible attitude? Shouldn’t he be doing quite well if his work is that good?” Ali asked.

  “I’m really not sure,” Malika answered thoughtfully. “There seems to be more to his story, but we probably won’t find out today. Let’s keep him in mind.”

  Perhaps I really ought to mind my own business, Ali thought, but her curiosity kept drawing her back to his book, her specution of what it may tain, and the puzzle of why this Dwarf might be reading it.

  Gerald Brand, Garrison ander Gerald Brand gred across the table at the woman who had invited herself in and refused to leave. He resisted the temptation to rub the knot f in his neck, but he could already feel the throbbing of a vein in his temple that presaged the o of a migraihere was a mountain of work to get done, and scouts tahe Torian forces were making moves that he simply could not afford to ignore, a Vivian Ross sat opposite him insisting he listen to this insanity.

  It didn’t help that she was a three-mark and none of his staff had even tried to deny her access to his office. Reprimands are in order. And mandatory discipliraining.

  “Guildmaster Ross, I appreciate your efforts to build an Adventurers Guild chapter here in Myrin’s Keep. Your desire to improve life for all our townsfolk is admirable, but you’re still barely getting started and I have real problems to solve right now. I don’t have time for these ridiculous cims of a dungeon-break.”

  “And if it’s true?” she asked. Vivian Ross didn’t seem at all perturbed by his putdown of the importance of her guild.

  “It’s not true.” He said it as firmly as he could without raising his voice. “I read the report. Two half-breeds, a Fae monster, and an ur did not fight a bunch of Bugbears and win. There is simply no way – you, of all people, should know this. And that refugee girl is Anh Khen – she is Torian. Need I remind you we’re currently at war with Toria? And they are pressing their advance as we speak? I appreciate your for the town, but I must ask you to leave a me do my job.”

  At that moment, Vivian cocked her head to the side. She did not otherwise budge, utterly unmoved by his tirade.

  What now?

  “Visitors?” Vivian said, as if he’d asked the question aloud.

  At that very moment, his enhanced hearing caught the sounds of yelling and a cacophony of thuds and muffled scraping ing from outside. The door to the garrison headquarters suddenly burst open with such force that the foundations of the building shook.

  The din bsted through the headquarters, halting aire building-full of clerks and aides as they all stopped their work and stared at the spectacle.

  An unabashedly humongous figure stooped down, twisting sideways to jam his enormous frame through the doorway. Several guards hung from his legs in a futile attempt to slow him down. He growled as he ehe room, straightening up to his full eight feet of dense muscle and thick dark bck fur.

  He wore nothing but thick leather breeches and an enormous two-handed blood-staieel mace strapped to his broad back. His tree-trunk right arm was casually draped over the equally huge Goblin Bugbear corpse slung over one shoulder.

  The monster’s red eyes found him across the room. “Brand!” he roared, his voice even louder than his entrance.

  Helios save me! It’s that fug Beastkin again – could this day get any worse?

  Gerald Brand groaned as he pushed to his feet. Bjorn’s timing could not have been worse, but the Bugbear he carried spoke of a far more ominous problem. At least she has the decy to not gloat, he thought, gng back at Vivian who remained silent, sitting with remarkable posure in her seat.

  “Bjorn, you are making a se in my office. I could have you fined for this,” Gerald said, raising his voice finally. He had never made a of his dislike for the Beastkin Berserker. He had been acquainted with Bjorn for years, and other than being on the same side for every important fight in Myrin’s Keep, Bjorn had been like a stant splinter under his fingernail. Why does he have to always be so undisciplined, so loud, so … Bjorn? Every time Bjot involved, Gerald had more work. It was always that way.

  “The Goblins in the south forest seem to be a little rger than normal,” Bjorn snorted, his voice grating like grinding boulders. The giakin tossed the Bugbear into the ter of the room like he was discarding some dirty undry, making the windows rattle from the heavy impact.

  Beferald could respond, the giant spun on his heel, raising a fur-covered hand furnished with wicked bck cws in farewell, and lumbered back the way he had e, wholly oblivious to the half-dozen guards trying to restrain him.

  Gerald took a deep, steadying breath. “Let him go. Get someoo that up,” he ordered, indig the foul-smelling corpse that now littered his lobby. His aides startled and the to carry out his orders.

  “I guess I owe you an apology,” Gerald finally admitted, turning back to Vivian Ross – who still hadn’t moved an inch. More than anything, he prided himself on being good at reading people, knowing who was reliable and who was not. And Bjorn had just made a fool of him. Vivian too.

  “I still don’t believe those kids killed three Bugbears,” he said, finally sitting down to face Vivian Ross, letting out his frustration as a sigh.

  “The Fae girl is a Summoner,” she said.

  Well fuck. It was all that o be said, holy. One more surprise cherry on top of this shit-sundae he was beioday.

  “What do you want?” he grunted.

  “Same as you, I want the town to survive. I don’t mind if you’re the oo tell the cil – you certainly have the evidenow. I would like the emergency protocols invoked as quickly as possible so that we get started posting defense quests and supply jobs,” Vivian answered, her tone businesslike. “In exge, you’ll have my vote for your defense initiative.”

  Vivian was him a thinly disguised favor, a way to save face. Unfortunately, it was araordinarily good offer. If he presehe facts to the cil, he would be seen as doing his job and taking charge of the defense of the town. He would be shown as a fident leader, at a time wheown couldn’t afford the cil’s ret disturbing caution and distrust of his defense reendations. And her vote would break the tie in the cil. It would put him io Vivian, though.

  “Thank you,” he said, accepting her unstated trade. At least I trust that she won’t want anything that isn’t in the best is of Myrin’s Keep. It will just also be in the best is of Vivian Ross and that silly guild project she loves so much.

  “They said that Kieran Mori is involved, and you know what that means.”

  “Fuck.” Gerald did not typically curse or swear – at least out loud. But if Mori knew of the immi Goblin horde, he was certain that they would be ering the market for all the important ables right at the worst possible moment. He wouldn’t be able to supply the garrison with arrows, potions, and a whole host of other items critical to keeping his forces in fighting shape.

  “Now that you’re aware of the situation, I’ll leave it in your capable hands,” Vivian said without a sirace of sarcasm. Even her heartbeat sounded calm and rexed to his enhanced hearing.

  Ptinum Rankers. He had met several people over level one hundred, in the sed tier, and they were all equally absurd.

  Even before she had left the building, he was inundated with work – calling an emergency meeting of the cil, creating purchase orders for supplies, rallying scouts, and sending them out to the southern forest.

  He leaned ba his chair, rubbing his temples for real, now. Skies shitting boulders! Hope this stupid town survives – it always has before, against the odds.

  Suddenly, he straightened and bellowed at a hapless aide who had the temerity to peek around his doorpost, “Get me a background che that group of kids as soon as everything is taken care of! Get moving!”

  If they were going to be providing critical intelligence, he o know if he could rely on them.

  timewalk