--- Table of Contents ---
--- Part 1/2 ---
When Shon woke again, it was to be told he'd slept, not only the rest of the day and night of the incident, but the entire day after as well. Despite the Cleric assuring Shon that this was normal, he still had Shon eat breakfast in the infirmary while the Squires attended their morning lessons. He'd slept through drills, breakfast, and prayer.
The Cleric kept the curtains drawn over the window, though Shon's head wasn't pounding anymore, and had added a second set of standing curtains around the girl's bed. Shon's eyes flicked in her direction with every alternate bite he managed to force down, but there was no movement beyond the white cloth.
Master Daunas came in shortly before tenth bell and armor practice to inform Shon that he was to take the day off to rest but could rejoin the others in training the following day. He was at least allowed to leave the infirmary, though he waited until he could hear sparring outside before he did. He didn't want to run into any of the Squires.
As he opened the door to leave something flew by the window, catching Shon's attention enough to make him stop and look over. But it was already long gone. Just a bird... Assuming he hadn't imagined it. He shook his head, still aching all over. His mind swam with worries and memories, made worse by the fact that the Cleric was trying to hide shivers now that Shon was fully rested. He'd probably just imagined it...
Back in his room Shon huddled over his journal. He could still smell the smoke in his hair and had decided it would be best to shower soon, but finally alone, his thoughts and memories could no longer be ignored.
So he drew. He tried to start safe. Nangran atop his borrowed horse; Ivelm mostly naked and shaking a club in his doorway; the Archmage's workroom lined in shelves filled with magical components. That one had taken a while. But as he released these images onto the page, others forced themselves forward. Smoke billowing over treetops; a burning tower; charred bodies; and a girl reaching out through the flames. A girl lying asleep in the bed next to his. The stillness of the picture made her look dead.
He dropped his pencil, letting it roll right off the desk. Crossing his arms over the book, he rested his head on his desk. The wood felt warm compared to his skin, comforting. What more could he have done? What could a Paladin have done? Or Master Veon-Zih? Shon saw again the bodies and shivered.
No one could save everyone. To think otherwise was pure arrogance. But knowing the facts and feeling them were two very different things. The tower wasn’t that far from Hamerfoss. Shouldn’t they have known something was going on? Shouldn’t they have been able to do something sooner? Years sooner? Long before the fire killed those people?
A loud tapping startled him awake. When had he fallen asleep? Shon searched his room in confusion, trying to piece together his dream and what had awoken him. He'd been in the Temple chapel, but as he'd walked down the middle aisle, the pews had started to decay, the stone walls crumbling. Small plants, then trees began to sprout from the ground, overgrowing the once-holy place now in ruin. Shon pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, trying to remember what had come next... A man with white hair pulled back in a ponytail had been standing at the head altar... something with leathery wings on his shoulder...
The painful screech of something sharp on glass had Shon jumping up, his chair falling to clatter on the ground behind him. He looked to his window but saw only orange sky beyond. Was the sun already setting? He knelt on the mattress and looked out the window, unsure what he expected to see. He was on the third floor, but that was definitely where the sound had come from, and the window was the only glass in the room.
Nothing but open sky.
He opened the tiny window, the pane swinging up and letting in cold and refreshing air that helped clear his mind. Master Daunas's voice bellowed orders from the courtyard below, and Shon stuck his head out to look down and see his fellows working through their dagger forms. He'd slept through lunch and afternoon lessons. And he still needed a shower.
If he hurried, he would be able to shower before the others finished their lesson. Shon left the window open and even opened his door before he remembered to grab a fresh uniform. Obviously, he still wasn't thinking clearly.
The halls were blissfully empty, and Shon could almost pretend that even if he did pass someone, their breath wouldn't show in the air. It was a short-lived fantasy, however. He managed to make it all the way to the showers, but when he opened the door a voice called, "Squire! Why aren't you... Oh..." Shon performed a sharp about face to stand at attention before the Major General.
"At ease, Squire Shon," Selibra sighed, waving him down, "Did you get enough rest?"
"Yes, Sir," Shon answered but then caught movement out of the corner of his eye, again. He hadn't managed to turn his head far enough to see before the Major General started speaking. Shon snapped his head back to give the officer his undivided attention.
"You did well, Squire. Smith Nangran told us what happened at the tower." Sir Selibra managed a strained smile that faded quickly, "If you want to talk about what you saw there... any one of us will be more than willing to listen. You shouldn't have had to experience death so soon." an image of an arm pulling away from a charred corpse flashed in Shon's vision.
Shon swallowed down the accompanying nausea at the memory and managed a nod, adding a quiet "Thank you, Sir." for good measure.
Feeling the need to scrub even more than before, Shon was grateful when the Major General left, allowing him to enter the still-open room. The shower was only mildly comforting, however. What should have been scalding water felt merely lukewarm now, the mist billowing off his truly icy skin thick enough that he could barely see the spigots. Closing his eyes, he scrubbed and tried to imagine the images flowing off of him with the filth...
Something chirped, and Shon slammed the water off. Just the pipes creaking... How much longer would he have to rest before his mind stopped playing tricks on him? But as he moved for his towel, Shon stopped in shock, his new uniform had been scattered around the benches and floor.
He hadn't heard the door open, but had heard the pipes creaking? But who here would even do something like this? Shon started to search the showers, but as he did, he heard something else—voices in the hall. The Squires were done with their practice. He still didn't want to see them and dressed quickly, rushing from the shower and slamming the door behind him.
Something thumped into the door from the other side. Shon held his breath and turned slowly. It was his imagination. It had to be. He reached for the handle again and, standing behind the swing, opened the shower slowly.
"He's been gone three days... Do you think they sent him away?" Thom's voice sounded from around a corner, and Shon jumped in surprise, pulling the door open fully as if he could hide behind it.
"No way. he's the best Squire we have, so what if he's a Sorcerer." They were talking about him... Shon definitely didn't want to see them yet. He dashed down the opposite way, taking a long way around through the Paladin's barracks and back to his room. Or that's what he'd planned before he remembered the Squires hall would be full of people now taking their break and trying to get into the shower before everyone else. His feet faltered, and he turned away again, to one of the hardly used stairs that would take him down to the rest of the fortress.
Barred from his room, Shon made his way to the place he associated the most with comfort, the chapel. It wasn't empty, three Paladins knelt in prayer near the front, but it didn't matter anymore. He felt a wash of calm as he entered the incense-filled room, the sweet-smelling smoke finally banishing the stench of burning hair from his memory.
Shon took a spot near the back, kneeling to pray as he stared up at the statue of Hengist behind the altar. He was dressed in full plate mail, his arm raised in triumph, holding his mighty sword, Darkspliter.
Shon sighed and felt himself smile for what felt like the first time in a very long time. He could tell Hengist anything and everything, and none of it out loud... But then his smile faded. What would he say...?
I'm sorry. I feel like I've been lying to everyone, to you. I've known there was something different about me, something wrong with me. That's why no one likes to touch me, why everyone pulls away at the feel of my skin, like it's somehow dirty or painful. I should've realized... Should have known...
But I worked so hard... You know that, don't you? And I'm not ready to give up. I'll do whatever it takes, atone anyway I can if you just tell me how. The Major General said something about it being a sign. I want to believe he meant the unlikely convenience of Smith Nangran knowing an Archmage who could make an item so I won't have to get the tattoo. Thank you. I just hope I don't disappoint after getting a second chance...
The bell for dinner sounded. Feeling better, Shon considered going with the Paladins as they left the chapel. Until one of them shivered as they passed. "Winters right around the corner," another muttered.
"We'll need to install the heating orbs soon." the last answered before the door closed... He wasn't hungry anyway.
Please, Hengist. Don't let me hurt anyone else. Kefir was trying to help me, and I answered that kindness with pain. What if the healers hadn't gotten to him in time? Would I have smothered him in ice? Please, I'll give up everything if it means that will never happen again...
But he didn't want to give up anything. He wanted to fight, to reach his highest potential, and lead a life of meaning. He thought of Master Veon-Zih. The Monk had told him that he didn't need to be a Paladin to fight for justice, and he was living proof of that. But...
I don't want to be alone... At first, I thought I just wanted you, a god, as a guiding light in my life. But now I realize that being a Paladin gives me even more than that. It gives me brothers and friends, and I don't want to lose them either. But I especially don't want to hurt them.
Shon clenched his hands tighter, as tight as he could, digging his fingers into the spaces between his knuckles; as if external pain might dull internal strife...
They say I'm scary... And I know they aren't really joking. I can see it in their eyes and hear it in their nervous laughs when they try and make it a joke. But they only mean when they fight me... don't they? And I'll never try to hurt them. It's only sparring... they know that... don't they?
He squeezed his eyes tighter shut,
But what about now? Will they be even more afraid? Even when we aren't sparring? Can I blame them if they are?
He actually found himself waiting for an answer... Of course, none came. He wasn't a Paladin yet, and wouldn't be able to feel the god until he swore his Oath and took a piece of Hengist into himself. For now, Shon took in a deep breath, as deep as he could, then let it out slowly, relaxing his hands and face as he attempted to release his anxieties unto his god.
I won't give up. I'll fight this danger within me as hard as I will fight any threat without. I ask for your help with this. Please don't give up on me yet. I'll prove I'm worthy, I swear.
The bell ending dinner and starting study time sounded. Shon stayed in the chapel until a handful of Squires came in to pray themselves. They hesitated by the door, but Shon didn't look at them. He knew he couldn't hide forever. But he also wasn't sure what he should say to any of them. Or if he should say anything at all. Shon waited until they moved away from the door to finally stand. If he had to face any of them, he wanted it to be the ones he considered friends first.
Shon left the chapel and made his way to the library, fighting the urge to just go back to his room. Heads swiveled in his direction the moment he opened the library door. Shon flinched, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it, pulling his energy in as best he could.
He stepped in, and the Squires exchanged looks, but then the Paladin on library duty coughed, and they quickly went back to reading.
His typical spot was available as usual, so Shon made his way there. The others would want to talk after... and if not, he would just go back to his room. Distracted by his continued worries -and the silent effort to hold his energy in- Shon still heard when something behind him hissed along the stone.
He spun quickly, scanning the floor. This time he definitely wasn't imagining it...
"Squire Shon... Shouldn't you be resting?" He turned back to find the Squires trying to make it seem like they weren't staring at him, while the Paladin who called looked openly concerned.
Shon's cheeks flushed, now feeling cool rather than warm. Another change... He cleared his throat, "No, Sir..." and when the Paladin's worried expression didn't let up, Shon added, "I've been resting all day."
"Three days..." Zihler muttered.
Shon met his eyes and the Squire smiled, but Shon couldn't tell if the expression seemed strained or not. He nodded anyway, taking his seat alone at the table by the window.
Books on their current subject of study were already laid out, and he pulled one forward, opening it without checking the title. As he read, he could hear the others occasionally whisper and even caught snippets of what they were saying,
"I found another one. Do you think this will be enough?" Thom asked.
"We have the rest of the hour; we should find all we can," Rerves answered. It didn't sound like they were studying, but Shon had missed three days of lessons; maybe they were working on an assignment... He went back to his reading. He would get any missed work tomorrow.
When the bell rang that would finally begin their last hour of free time, Shon closed his book. It would be best to just go to bed early; everyone seemed to think he should be resting anyway; they could talk after he got the sealing item... But he hadn't stood yet when his six closest friends jumped up, books in hand, and crowded around him, preventing him from leaving. From running away.
"We're glad you're okay." Rehlien blurted out.
"The Major General told us what happened," Baradin added.
Shon looked from him to Kefir and took in a sharp breath, "I'm..." he started to apologize, but Kefir interrupted with a broad smile,
"I'm fine. I even got a day off for it. I didn't need it though, they healed me up right away."
Rerves placed his book down on Shon's table, "It was just really surprising, you know? But hey! Now we know why you're so cold all the time."
Shon looked down at the massive tome on the table, not wanting to meet their eyes. He didn't know what to make of what they were saying. There was no way it was okay. How could they be alright with a dangerous magic user that could kill them all on accident...
"We found these. We thought they might make you feel a little better," Thom whispered, stacking his book on top of Rerves' and opening it to a page he'd marked with a ripped piece of scrap paper. It wasn't a textbook, it was a record book. Shon furrowed his brows down at the page, reading 'Sir Patrich, served 4876-4929, died 4955. Paladin of Hengist, General. Air Sorcerer...'
Shon looked up to find them all smiling down at him. Zihler set his book down over Thom's, opened to another personal record, "This one was a fire Sorcerer, and they're supposed to be the most destructive."
Rehlien took Baradin and Kefir's books and stacked them with his own beside the open records. He ran his fingers over the slew of bookmarks sticking out of the closed pages, "All Sorcerers and Paladins." Rehlien said.
"Master Daunas said you would be back in a few days, but just in case we wanted to find these for you," Thom explained in a rush, "You know... in case the officers or Mages needed to be convinced..."
Baradin cleared his throat before he spoke, clasping his hands behind his back, "We haven't found any ice Sorcerers yet, but they're also the rarest, so that really shouldn't be surprising."
"Yeah, and there are plenty of fire who are crazy dangerous even when they're trained," Kefir added quickly.
Shon could feel a burning in his eyes and blinked furiously, looking away from his friends. He wouldn't cry.. he wouldn't. "Thank you..." he managed to croak out, finally giving in and rubbing his eyes. None of them commented on his show of emotion, or the frost clouding his window.
Rerves took the seat across from him with a smile, "So, what type of familiar do you think you'll get?"
Shon managed to stop blinking enough to arch an eyebrow. Hadn't Ivelm said something about a familiar too?
"I bet you it'll be something really lame." Zihler laughed, "To balance Shon's badassness."
"Squire!" the Paladin librarian barked, "Pushups! Now!"
Zihler groaned, mumbling as he stepped back to perform the punishment, "How do they always do that?"
"Divine hearing," Rehlien snickered as Zihler started the pushups, "Probably only works for curses, though."
"You can join him," the Paladin called without looking up from his book, and Rehlien groaned, dropping down next to Zihler.
"Seriously though," Rerves said, ignoring the boys huffing and puffing through their punishment, "Familiars are animals, they're supposed to be even closer to their Sorcerer than a Paladin and their mount! Like an extension of yourself. You can see through their eyes and talk to them with your mind. It's awesome!"
Thom actually blushed, confessing, "We read up on it a bit over the last two days..."
They knew more about what he was than he did. Shon actually smiled, starting, "I don't..." but chittering, like a particularly loud squirrel, interrupted him. The Squires all swiveled their heads to look around, Rehlien and Zihler jumping to their feet with the Paladin, who stood so quickly his chair fell over. The chittering turned to chirping, and then to a purr, as Shon finally found what was making the noise.
On top of the bookshelf closest to the door, sat a tiny dragon.
The size of a large barn cat, its scales were mostly brown but had streaks and blotches of red and orange, like the few deciduous trees that still held their leaves in autumn. Its leathery wings were folded against its back and its front claws grasped the edge of the bookshelf. Its long tail, complete with a scorpion-like stinger, flicked back and forth, its sinuous neck held high as it surveyed the library.
Some of the Squires let slip breaths of wonder, and the little dragon seemed to preen at the attention, holding its head a little higher and purring even louder. The Paladin, however, stepped around his desk and commanded, "Stay back, Squires," before he started chanting. The little dragon tilted its head at the Paladin, as curious as the rest of them. A moment later, the knight's spell washed over them to fill the room, sending a shiver down Shon's spine and making more than one of the other Squires shudder.
The little dragon let out another string of chittering and hissed down at the Paladin, whose eyes went wide as he announced in a breath, "It's real."
"How did it get in?" a senior Squire asked. Shon started to stand but then fell back again as images flooded into his mind. He watched a window opening from outside the fortress, and saw himself lean out. Then the image shifted, and he saw himself digging under his bed for a new uniform and towel as the him that was watching slipped out the door. It shifted again, and he saw himself in the shower, mist billowing off his shoulders before he dug through the piles of clothes left on the bench. It shifted again, and he darted into the library and behind the bookshelf, watching as he, Shon, walked in and sat down at the little table.
Shon blinked and shook his head furiously to try and clear it. All the pictures had flooded in so fast that no one even had time to answer the question or pose their own, "I let it in..." Shon whispered, then looked at the Paladin, explaining quickly, "I didn't mean to. I left my window open to air out my room and..."
"It's okay, Squire," the Paladin was actually smiling, and the little dragon whistled, "They're goodly creatures, though elusive. I've never seen a live one." the dragon leaned forward on the bookshelf, crouching down on its front claws and wiggling its hindquarters before it leaped into the air, opening its wings to spread as wide as it was long. It glided a lap around the library then hovered in front of the Paladin, chittering again and flapping hard enough to blow the man's short hair back before flying right towards the group of Squires around Shon.
It brushed Baradin's head with its claws, the boy ducking as it swooped down to land on Shon's table. The dragon looked from the open books to Shon, then, before Shon could pull back, climbed up his arm and to his shoulder, purring hard enough to vibrate Shon too. It weighed considerably less than it looked like it should, though its claws were sharp enough to pierce through his clothes as it climbed. It brought its face right up to Shon's eye, and though he tried to pull away, it followed him with its long neck, rubbing its cheek along his face. The scales were smooth and lacked temperature, like being touched by a gloved hand. It nuzzled his cheek again, then down his neck and into his shirt.
Surprised, Shon tried to throw the dragon off, but it just dug its claws into his sleeves, chittering angrily then clawing its way around to his back before lifting itself up to drape over his head. "What..." Shon started, but the Paladin cut him off with a laugh.
"I think that answers your friends' questions, Squire."
Shon was too confused to even arch an eyebrow at the man, but Rerves apparently understood what he'd meant because he said, "But I thought only animals could be familiars, like cats and crows and stuff..."
The Paladin nodded but then shrugged, "That's usually the case, but sometimes, rarely, there will be a Sorcerer who gets something a bit more special, like a winged serpent, fairy dragon, or in this case," he nodded at Shon, "A pseudodragon."
The pseudodragon purred, vibrating Shon's head. The Squires all gaped slack-jawed in awe at it, and Shon reached up slowly. He wasn't even sure what he was going to do, pet it? Push it off? But before he'd even touched it, it lifted its head, stretching its long neck out and nuzzling into his hand, obviously not caring that his skin was colder now than it had ever been.
"Damn..." Zihler muttered in obvious disappointment, "I was really hoping it would be a toad so I would have something to make fun of..."
The little dragon's answering twitter almost sounded like a laugh.
***
She groaned, rolling over and nuzzling deeper into Her pillow. Except it didn’t smell like Her pillow. Her eyes flew open, and She sat up. Then fell back down. That was stupid. Ran and Brom had probably taken more blood than usual again… except She couldn’t remember them taking Her for samples. Not for weeks and weeks…
“It’s alright, you’re safe here,” the kindly voice of a man spoke from Her right, and She sat up again, more slowly this time. A stranger in white robes with a sword embroidered on the chest reached out to help Her up, but after touching Her back he pulled sharply away.
She was too confused to apologize for burning him. “Where?” She asked, looking around the room. Like the stranger, it was covered in white. White blankets, white rug, and white curtains hanging to either side of an open window. A window that looked out onto a blue sky. She gasped, scrambling from the bed and nearly tripping over Her white gown. Of course it was white. How in all the hells did they keep it all clean?
She shook Her head and rushed for the window. The man behind Her gasped, his chair scraping loudly as he stood to follow. She pressed Her hands on the cold glass, staring up into the sky, “I’m on an upper floor!?” She grinned excitedly over Her shoulder as the stranger stared at Her, mouth hanging open.
Turning back to the window, She used Her arm to wipe the fog from Her heat off the glass, letting Her gaze trail down. She didn’t see the treetops She expected. Not close anyway. Instead, the forest was beyond a wide clear field, which in turn was beyond a tall stone wall with people dressed in silver walking along its top. She stood on Her toes to look down through the window. Between the wall and Her was a courtyard full of more people swinging things that glinted in the sun.
This wasn’t the tower. None of those people wore robes except the nice stranger. She spun to him, “My treasures, where are they? Brom? Ran? Where…” She saw a flash of red, heard a pained bark, and smelled iron. She fell to Her knees, grasping Her chest and breathing hard, remembering bits and pieces. He killed them. He killed all of them. Then what? She couldn’t remember...
“You are in a training facility of the Temple of Hengist, Hamerfoss, in Clearhelm.” a new voice, deeper, less kind though not cruel, spoke from the doorway. Lifting Her head, She saw the new man wearing a crisp, white, uniform, with a sword hanging comfortably from his belt. Hengist… so that explained all the white.
The kind man in robes had rushed to Her but dared not touch Her. Wise. With Her head spinning so fast, there was no way She was controlling Her heat properly. “How long has she been awake?” the new man asked the kind one.
“She just woke up, Major General,”
“He killed them…” She whispered, squeezing Her eyes shut, pushing back the rage and sorrow, trying to fill in Her memory. What happened next?
“It will be alright. You're safe here,” the kind man said again.
She pulled Her own hair, lacing Her fingers into the golden strands and squeezing. What had happened? She had run down the hall, but how had She gotten out of Her room? There were strangers in Her tower. These men? She glared up at the brown-haired man who looked down at Her, his hands behind his back.
“Who are you? What did you do to the Mages?” She could feel the hair rise on the back of Her neck and a familiar tingling where the collar should be.
The Major General remained calm before Her building fury, saying only, “Calm down.” It was a command backed by magic. She felt the power flow over Her and try to settle on Her mind. She could almost sense the peace it promised but shook Her head, clearing it of the spell.
He could've used his magic to hurt Her. Perhaps not with the collar as the Archmages did, but in other ways. And yet, he hadn’t moved from his spot, his hands still behind his back. She looked again at the sword of Hengist at his side. She'd read all about the gods. Hengist was good and noble, all about self-sacrifice and protecting the weak… A fool, the Mages had said. And yet his Temple ruled this province. The Mages of Her tower would never work with the Temple of Hengist. Or any kingdom order…
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She didn’t need his help to calm down, not when She had something to focus on. She shoved Her grief to the back of Her mind. “How did I get here?” another image flashed in Her mind, fire all around, a white path, blue eyes.
The Paladin didn’t answer right away; instead, he motioned for the robed man - a Cleric? - to bring him a chair. She tilted Her head curiously at him, but he only sat down with a weary sigh, then gestured towards the bed, “Please, have a seat.”
She stood, returning to the bed and eyeing the door over his shoulder. He hadn’t locked it. “We saw smoke from the woods and found you in a burning tower.” the blood drained from Her face, “We have recovered several bodies from around the structure, but there were no other survivors.” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fixing Her with a piercing stare, “What happened? What was going on in that tower?”
She brought Her feet onto the bed and hugged Her legs tight, “I don’t… I can’t remember…” a fire, the tower burning… But it was made of stone. Her fire couldn’t burn that hot… Could it?
“Sir Selibra,” the kindly Cleric sounded stern, crossing his arms and glaring down at the Paladin, “She has just woken up from what was obviously a terrible ordeal. Show some compassion.”
The Paladin, Selibra, actually looked ashamed, leaning back in his chair and clearing his throat, “I apologize, miss…” he drew out the last word, looking at Her expectantly. She tilted Her head. “What is your name?” he asked more clearly. She tilted Her head the other way. Were they going to play that game here too?
The Cleric hummed then said, “Please forgive him, miss, we are all very troubled by the events and deaths at the tower. The Major General merely got ahead of himself. If you could tell us your name, then we can let you rest and…”
“I don’t have a name.”
The two men blinked dumbly at Her, and She rolled Her eyes, “I knnnooowww,” She let Her legs fall back down, so She was sitting properly again, “But I don’t know it yet. As soon as I do, I'll tell you.” She assured them. The men exchanged looks as She glanced again out the window. Maybe She should've just told them what Brom and Ran called Her… But those weren’t names. They were descriptors. No better than ‘Firewyrm.’
If these Temple men were to be believed, everything was gone. She had no room, no books, no clothes, no treasures, and no name. What did She have? She pulled Her hair over Her shoulder and stared out the window as She stroked it. She had Her hair. They hadn’t cut it in months. She had Her body. She straightened Her posture, holding Her head high. And She had Her power—the fire crackling deep inside Her soul. The Mages had taken the first two. The third had destroyed them.
“You should rest,” Selibra stood, and Her eyes snapped back to him, “You can send for me when you feel ready to talk. Until then, focus on recovering your strength and your memories.”
He made it all the way to the door, even swung it open before She called out, “What are you going to do to me?”
Selibra turned back, his eyebrows raised in surprise. The Cleric placed a hand on Her shoulder, slowly and carefully, gauging how much of Her heat he could handle. She turned to him, and he let Her go. He'd held on longer than expected. “We will keep you safe, child.” the Cleric assured Her.
The Paladin grew stiff for a moment, then brought his right fist up to his chest, “By the sword of Hengist’s honor, we will safeguard your life and freedom,” Freedom? “Whatever injustices you endured there, you will find justice in the laws of Clearhelm.” She didn’t know what to say, and so, after an awkward moment of silence, Selibra turned for the door again and left.
She didn’t lay down. Instead, She walked back to the window. The view seemed to stretch on forever from so high up, higher than She'd ever remembered being before. Even when She used to climb the trees around Her tower.
Selibra hadn’t locked the door, but the Cleric bustled around behind Her, and the wall below Her clanked with armored knights. What was freedom anyway?
--- Table of Contents ---
Thanks for making it this far, you are the real MVP

Hey everybody.
So I have been playing this build for the whole league and do like it very much. Grinding for upgrades is the only thing that makes me enjoy the game and continue playing. Now I'm almost out of ideas what can I improve on this build and looking for some advice. My thoughts are:
- get CB immunity somewhere and free up 1 flask suffix. Get ele res on that suffix, change res suffixes on the shield for offensive ones;
- get t1 chaos res on large cluster (or cap chaos res without ring implicit), get +1 curse yoke and + ele weakness circle of fear OR just circle of fear with good offensive implicits;
- something with rare ring;
- pen enchant on boots.
I dont really want to mess with crucible tree on claw. I know it can be better but I just bought this claw as is and didnt bother.
Ninja profile
pobb.in (mapping/heist setup without totems/frostbomb). Please correct if I set config wrong (no boss, 50 shock effect, killed recently)

Due to questions and comments regarding:
the Battle Pass

• D4's Monetization
• Pre-Orders
• Crossplay and Cross-save (playing / save-files across several platforms - PC, XBox, PS - including "do I need separate / individual copies for each system?")
• System Requirements / Technical Questions
• Launch Date + related questions (e.g. Preload)

...being asked very frequently on the subreddit, please post them in this thread so they can be compiled in one spot, which makes it easier for the community to oversee and to respond to them.
​
Short Questions that may not require a whole thread to be answered or Less Frequently Asked Questions that are more niche / very specific (like "What is the Tick Rate of Bleeding Effects?") also belong in this thread to not over-saturate the front page of the subreddit with such threads.
​
- Please read the brief FAQ below before posting! <---
Basic Information on D4 and some of the most frequently asked questions are quickly answered there!
================================================================================

Quick FAQ and Basic Information on D4

• Launch Date: June 6th, 2023 (and June 2'nd for those that pre-purchase the Digital Deluxe or the Ultimate Edition)
• Global Release Times: the exact Regional Release Times can be found here <--.
• Preload Date: nothing announced yet.
• Collectors Edition: does NOT INCLUDE the Game (neither a physical copy, nor a code), only physical collectible items! The game has to be bought separately.

​

• Beta Progress: Character Progress will NOT transfer over to the Game once it is launched, but Cosmetic Rewards from participating in the Beta will transfer.

​

• System Requirements: See image here <-- for official information on D4's System Requirement.
• General Suggestions to make the game run better: the game may run better for some people on lower settings. Remember that you can also choose to download lower texture pack, which reduces the amount of disk space you may need to have available.
• Ultrawide Screen Support? Yes
• Offline Mode: No Offline Mode. Online-only, including for Consoles (so unlike D3 on consoles, no offline mode for consoles with D4).
• Local Co-op / Couch Co-op / Console Co-op: No couch co-op on PC. Yes on consoles, but only for up to 2 Players (same for all Home Consoles).
• Crossplay: is available across all platforms.
• Is progress, cosmetics, etc shared between PC, Xbox, PS5, etc? Your Progress, Cosmetics, etc are saved on your Battle.net account, so yes, they are shared between your PC, Xbox, PS, etc copies of the game you may have, provided you are logged in on the same Battle.net account.
• Do I need to buy a copy for each platform separately to play it? Yes. In order to play the game on PC, you need a PC copy. To play it on console, you need a copy for the particular console.
• Controller Support for PC? Yes
• WASD Movement Support for PC Keyboards? No, but maybe later down the road in the future.

​

• Start of the 1st Season: A few weeks after launch, but the exact time is unknown at the moment.
• How Dark is Diablo 4? Yes.
• Cow Level: there is no Cow Level.

​

• Infos on the Battle Pass: There is a Free Battle Pass and two Tiers of a Premium Battle Pass. Premium BP (Tier 1) cost 10$, gives access to unlock cosmetics only and Premium BP (Tier 2) costs 25$ and gives accelerated access to the cosmetic of the Tier 1 Premium BP + additional Cosmetics. The Free & the Premium BP's last for one season (one season lasts ~3 months) and all of them will take ~75 hours to complete.
• Is D4's Premium Battle Pass pay2win? Short Answer: NO!
• Is D4's Premium Battle Pass pay2win? Long Answer: The Premium Battle Pass does NOT give an XP Boost. There is an XP Boost in the FREE Battle Pass. Buying the Premium Battle Pass does NOT unlock or accelerate the pace at which you get the XP Boost of the Free Battle Pass. XP Boosts only apply to your OTHER seasonal Characters, AFTER one of them has fulfilled certain requirements, like reaching a certain Character Level (evtl. Max Character Level ?), so it will only make it faster to level seasonal Alts, not your seasonal Main Char. (based on currently publicly available information).
• D4's ingame Shop: only sells cosmetic via Premium Currency, but not power (based on currently publicly available information). Premium Currency can also be gained by playing the game.

​
[Gameplay] - Does D4 have...

• ... a Skill Tree? Yes.
• ... Skill Points? Yes, D4 has Skill Points (these are shared by Active and Passive Skills)
• ... Skill Runes like in D3? No, but there are ways to modify Active Skills further (both via Items and via the Skill Tree)
• ...a Paragon System? Yes, but it is very different than Paragon from D3. Unlike D3's Paragon, D4's Paragon is NOT account-wide and you do NOT have unlimited Points for it (gained from Level 50 to 100 + via some other objectives). It is "Paragon in Name-only" so to speak.
• ... Respecs? Yes, but they cost Gold. You can respec individual Skill Points. Due to the Gold Costs for respecs increasing with Character Level, you can't respec High Level Characters too much each day.
• ... Trading? Yes, but only Normal, Magic and Rare Items (+ Gems, Gold & Elixirs) can be traded, but not Legendaries or Uniques. Rare Items can be enchanted further, but then can no longer be traded.
• ... an Auction House like D3? No Auction House in D4.
• ... Bald Occultist from the Trailer? Check!
• ... Succubi? Check!

​
================================================================================
​
Question not answered? Ask your question in the comments or join the D4 subreddits discord!
Any further comments regarding these any of these topics? Post them in the comments!

First Previous Next
Chapter 5 - Smoke
Northern Facility, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein, Year 990
The building fell to pieces in a spiraling wave. From its center, the air heated until it burned to touch and stung to breathe. Fires streaked outwards, radiating like sunlight, as web-like cracks expanded throughout what was once solid walls. Then, one by one, the layers of stone fell apart. Scattered debris knocked into neighboring rooms, and more hallways pancaked beneath a growing cloud of grey smoke.
From the outside, it looked like a sudden explosion, a single attack that rendered a solid silhouette into scattered pieces. Onlookers would say they remembered hearing screams, some even recalling writhing shadows within the smoke. Still others would swear they caught fleeting glimpses of an Aberration, the creature they believed responsible for the attack. Those who believed the destruction came from within would dispute this claim, suggesting that any perpetrator would’ve died amidst the flames and rubble.
The facility, once merely an abandoned, distant old building that few travelers would give a second glance, became the talk of the town in its ruins.
It was only when the bodies were found in the aftermath that the rampant speculation quieted to whispered suggestions. No one was willing to raise their voices amidst the dead, and though the identities of the victims were unknown, that day would still be permanently marked in the town’s history as a great tragedy.
—
Winrow, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein, Year 990
Joan slammed the drink down on the counter, and the sound rang throughout the little tavern. A few other clients glanced her way, pausing their murmured conversations. At this hour of the day, when the sun was only just beginning to lower from its peak, the tavern was still relatively empty. Once night fell, Joan knew tired workers getting off their shifts would stop by after dinner, and the place would grow rowdy with laughter.
Seated on the stool beside her, Leila frowned. She was wearing her watchman’s uniform, though she’d rolled up her sleeves. Her hands were still adorned with their usual dark gloves. In all the years Joan had known the woman, she’d never seen her take those gloves off. It was rare enough to see her without her uniform, even on days off like this one.
A watchman is never off duty, Leila had said once. Joan hadn’t been able to argue against that.
“Bad morning?” Leila asked. Joan sighed.
“You could say that,” she muttered. She picked up her glass and took a deep gulp, enjoying the bitter stinging in her throat. Leila watched her carefully.
“...Did the girl wake up?”
Joan winced and shook her head. “Not yet,” she said, voice quiet. She stared down at the uneven wooden grains of the counter, absentmindedly tracing their swirling patterns with her eyes.
Joan hadn’t known what to expect when she’d seen the smoke. It was rare enough for her to leave Winrow these days, but Leila had asked her to head to Magrath to purchase ore for the watchmen. She typically went herself, but she was busy, the woman had said apologetically. Joan was the only one besides her in the village with a high enough license to purchase the amount of ore they would need for training and scouting. Joan hadn’t been too keen on it at first, but she’d reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t Leila’s fault that the Sovereign had put a hold on temporary ore purchase permits, after all, and she’d known the woman for many decades. And so, Joan had left Winrow and made the trip to Magreth, her old court magician license nestled in her pouch beside the heavy weight of the coins Leila had provided for the purchases.
The trip took longer than expected, but she miraculously hadn’t run into any Aberrations along the way or on the road back. Instead, when she was less than an hour away from Winrow, Joan had seen clouds of smoke billowing into the sky. Instinct had taken over, and she’d ran in the direction of the smoke without thinking.
She hadn’t expected to find a pile of ruins where an old abandoned building had once stood. A crowd had gathered around, whispering and pointing at the still glowing embers lighting up the gaps between sharp debris and charred grass. Her old training had taken hold, and Joan had commanded the onlookers to search for survivors.
A few hours later, they’d found nothing but charred bodies. Her stomach roiled when she saw how small some of them were. There had been children there, trapped within those walls, when the entire building had collapsed.
An old rumor had risen up in her memory, but she’d ignored it in favor of focusing on the immediate task at hand. One of the onlookers was sent to bring the watchmen, and until then Joan sat and waited.
She wasn’t sure what compelled her to go back to the ruins and search again, some hours later. Perhaps it was the growing unease, perhaps she’d simply needed to do something. She was glad she did, otherwise she would’ve missed the motionless figure trapped beneath a pile of debris whose breaths were shallow, but distinctly alive.
“How bad are the injuries?”
Joan looked back up at Leila. She frowned, lips drawn in a thin line.
“Bad,” she said. Joan shook her head. “It’s a miracle she survived. I think the rubble might’ve protected her from the flames. Most of the wounds were from being crushed.”
Leila winced in sympathy. “Poor girl,” she muttered.
Joan grunted in acknowledgement, gaze still distant. Leila frowned at her, furrowing her brows.
“Is there something else?”
Joan stared into her drink, swirling the liquid around in one hand. She tipped it back and took a slower sip this time before setting the glass back down.
“...Do you remember those old rumors, back when the coup happened?”
Leila squinted her eyes like she always did when she was thinking. “Which ones? There was an awful lot of stuff that came out,” she remarked in a half-hearted attempt at a joke. Joan, however, remained somber.
“The experiments in northern Vanstead,” she said.
Leila’s eyes widened before the watchman’s expression morphed into a more serious one. She gripped her own cup but made no move to drink, instead simply tightening her fingers around the glass. The woman exhaled.
“I thought it was propaganda,” she muttered.
Joan shook her head. “I did too,” she admitted. “But, Leila, those scars… I can’t think of any other way to explain them. Wounds like that don’t just happen.”
Leila was quiet, eyes flickering with disbelief that slowly settled into weary acceptance. The two of them had known each other long enough for Leila to know that Joan wouldn’t be mistaken about something like this.
Joan ran a hand through her hair, tugging on some of the greying strands. “I can’t believe I ever supported the Raymoths,” she muttered.
Leila patted her back. “It’s not your fault. All of us did, including me.”
“It’s different. I was a Rose.”
“You were a doctor.”
“A doctor who healed the wrong people, clearly.”
Leila sighed and raised her drink. “It’s over now, at least,” she muttered.
Joan nodded in agreement. She held up her glass as well, and the two women wordlessly clinked their glasses together before taking long sips. They sat in silence afterwards. Around them, a few more patrons were beginning to filter into the tavern as the sun slid closer to the horizon. The noise around them grew.
Finally, without turning, Leila asked, “How much magic do you have left?”
Joan stared down at her bare hands. Wrinkles were visible on the looser skin, remnants of the passing years. It still felt odd sometimes, to not look down and see those crisp white gloves she’d worn for so long. She’d gotten another pair when she came back for when she had to use magic, ones made of thick brown cloth, but they didn’t have the same feeling.
“Enough,” Joan answered simply.
Leila’s eyes flickered over to her. She hesitated. “If you’d like, I wouldn’t mind giving you some ore. The watchmen don’t need much.”
Joan chuckled. “I don’t think a sergeant should be saying that in public.” She shook her head. “I’d rather not go to court over unauthorized ore usage.” She was already lucky enough to have retired before the coup, or she probably would’ve been killed with the other old Roses who had served the Raymoths. She wasn’t keen on testing fate again.
Leila snorted as well, but her laughter soon died down into something more somber.
“Be careful, okay?” she said. Her voice lowered, and she spoke with increased urgency. “I’m serious, you know. If your reserves get close to a third, tell me.”
Joan smiled thinly.
“I will.”
—
The house was dark when Joan entered. She fumbled around for the oil lamp she always kept by the door, then made her usual rounds of lighting the candles within the small home until the space was filled with a soft, warm glow. Joan set the oil lamp down and sighed, taking a moment to adjust to the silence. She’d ended up staying at the tavern longer than expected, and it had, as expected, grown rather loud. In the past she would’ve joined in on the rowdiness, but now she just found herself weary. She shook her head, wondering if this was what aging felt like.
Joan turned and crept across the creaking floorboards until she reached a room situated near the end of the hallway. Inhaling, she slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
Three cots had been crammed into the space, all of their sheets folded neatly and kept clean despite two of them not seeing use in a long time. A light breeze fluttered in from the open window, giving the space a slight chill that made her shiver. The curtains billowed in the wind, and Joan stepped over to close the window.
Once she was done, she turned around to stare down at the one occupied cot. Lying beneath the blankets, a girl slept so still that she could easily be mistaken for a corpse. Joan frowned and took a seat on a small stool set beside the head of the bed.
Maybe “girl” wasn’t accurate. On closer inspection, she was probably a young adult, though her malnourished limbs and closed eyes made her look much younger. Her hands were folded over the blankets, and between the heavy bandages and wrappings, Joan could make out hints of scars beneath. She closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling. Finally, the woman opened her eyes again and raised her hands above the still form.
A soft mauve light glowed from the center of her palm. Swirling, delicate markings climbed up her arms as numbers appeared on the back of her hands. It still felt strange to see them instead of simply sensing them like she had when she’d worn the gloves every day.
​
FORM MAJOR
Magic Reserves: 39,876 → 39,864 / 118,604
Maximum Output: 12
Variability: 9
​
The light enveloped the unconscious figure, surrounding her in a soft glow. Joan closed her eyes, ignoring the immediate exhaustion that began every time she used magic these days. She forced herself to focus on the wounds.
In the back of her mind, she muttered a silent apology to Leila. But no matter what the other woman said, she had known the second she’d seen those scars that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure the girl in front of her woke up again.
It was the least she could do.
​
First Previous Next
Royal Road Patreon

https://pobb.in/PVHPKovptAZL
This is my char, i can do maps until T9 i believe but i die not very often but happens regularly. What should i do now i still do chaos recipe i dont have any currency apart from some cheap common. I have maybe 7c so i cant really buy anything. Should i continue with atlas?
Can someone explain me why skills which i have in gloves stopped working? Beofre when iwas facing bosses or rare monsters they were always marked with snipers mark but it is not happening any more...
Give guys some advice please i would appreciate. I am total noob i javent been playing poe 10 years so i dont know shortcuts. in game dictionary so please wirte the way i can understand
Big thanks

So me + 2 rushed (skipping most sidequests) the main story line and ended up hitting 50 basically at the last story quest.
We played world tier 2 the whole time, party was Druid/Sorc/Necro
So fresh account/world tier 2 + doing our best to make some/any build work for leveling; I expected to not feel OP but it was pretty harsh the whole way. Most late-story game bosses were 5m+ fights. Monsters scaling with our level works out about as you would imagine; you basically never -feel- any stronger, often you would feel weaker for leveling up. I remember realizing that I basically never felt any stronger than I did when I was level 1 fresh character lol. We did not grind/farm gear at any point, we mixed in a few Dead Mans Dredge occasionally to try and get a few upgrades but never found any GG items.
I was trying to appeal to the 'bucket theory'; but before launch I was hearing some of it may not be accurate. In that regard it was pretty confusing to try and understand how I was expected to scale my damage. They have put a lot of unintuitive damage scaling mods into the pool; no obvious way of knowing if that 40 INT line on my gear should be valued higher than that 20% core skill dmg/dmg to CC line. Eventually this information will end up on the wiki but for your casual audience I think they will have a hard time knowing what gear is better than the other.
We skipped all cut scenes, so were mostly just rushing dungeons. Was rare to run into any issues of not knowing what to do so that part was mostly smooth. HOWEVER leveling via the story quest, and I know we rushed and were doing so in an unintended way, but it was real boring lol. I was thinking at the end there how much I would hate to have to do that again on another char - which I know you don't have to, but then how will I be leveling that 2nd char? Just wandering in the world doing sidequests/dungeons? Idk this system seems wonky.
No issues with quests getting stuck; though was a constant worry because we were just mindlessly skipping dialog "maybe its bugged/maybe we're stupid"
Plenty of gameplay anomalies; most common and drastic one is taking a TP into the overworld and not being able to use any skills/mount etc. and having to relog to fix. GL to HC players lol.
Did not run into the butcher a single time; maybe he doesn't show up in story dungeons. Killed 1 world boss, the one who uses Portals^tm
Personal opinions/mostly stuff I don't think I like;
I don't like feeling like the skills I want to use are drastically worse than other skills; I don't mind not using the 'best' skill but with the skill choices being so limited already it really sucks that some of them are just 100% garbage without some significant investment. Necro Reap looks like an awesome skill but it's lucky hit chance is shit, it's base damage is shit and its resource gen is not great, it just summons corpses once every 5 seconds? I just don't see how that skill is going to find its place but we'll see.
I don't see why it takes so long to get a mount? Then after we got it most of the story quests were in areas where you couldn't even use it. lol.
To me a lot of the story quest felt very uninspired and lazy. Which would be fine since I was going to just skip any way. But some of it was felt like it was intentionally made more time consuming than it ought to have been. Idk how many dungeons/areas in the story we were literally just walking (cant mount underground) for 80% of the time with no monster spawns. Why did we fight that one weirdo literally like 5 times in a row? We played the hardest difficulty but I think we only found 1 or 2 fights that felt 'hard' mechanically. Most were pretty simplistic mechanics which posed almost no threat but were annoying. Teleporting bosses is a bad 'mechanic' and a big fuck you to classes/builds that have poor movement. Bosses with phases where they become invincible until you kill 5 other monsters around the map is a boring mechanic and was used ad nauseum. We did the whole leveling experience without EVER not even one time finding an item we got excited about. Since the world and drops and items all scale with your level I don't even know if finding an 'OP' item is possible. We farmed a very small amount half because we wanted to just beat the story and half because what is the point of farming any way when everything just scales with your level? Yea you might find a decent item but if you level up it just negates that increase of power from the item. Wonky system.
I think that's most of it, the jump from world tier 2 to world tier 3 wasn't very significant so maybe finally at 50 I can begin to start to 'feel stronger'. Never played a 'diablo-like' game where I played 20hrs and never 'felt stronger', idk how to feel about that lol.

Ready ka na ba kumilala uli ng ibang tao? Yung kukumustahin mo bago matapos ang araw, aayaing lumabas para kumain, mag kape, tumambay, o mag inom?
Ready ka na bang i-share yung mga paborito mong kanta, pelikula, palabas, libro, pati pagkain? Yung sabay kayong manonood o makikinig habang inoobserbahan yung reaksiyon ng isa't-isa?
Ready ka na bang makipag batuhan ng mga ideya at opinyon? Mag sabi at makinig ng mga problema, kwento at mga paniniwala?
Handa ka na bang magpa saya, sumaya, malungkot, masaktan, madisappoint, mamangha at matakot?
Ako, hindi pa. Mukhang malayo pa ko diyan. Pero gusto kong subukan uli. Ikaw, ready ka na?
Pag-usapan natin yan. Pero SFW lang ha. Kilalanin muna siguro natin ang isa't-isa.
Para may idea ka, here are some things about me: - I tend to (over)work 24/7 - I like dogs - I love music but I'm no musician - I'm into sitcoms and comedy shows - Horror and pyscho thriller films excite me - Sadly, sobrang noob ko sa computer games - I drink alcohol and I love coffee - I smoke. Cigs, vape and even the leafy organic stuff (occasionally) - I tend to overthink most of the time but I'm working on it na - I am sarcastic and I make borderline offensive jokes when in awkward situations... - Selosa ako, but I make sure na reasonable naman - I love random "kumusta" messages and smol gestures of appreciation - I like sponty dates and mga biglaang lakad - I stand 5'1 - I'm a big ghorl. Like "big belly fat" and not the thicc baddie typa ghorl. - I believe I'm cute and even pretty on a good day. Good days are a bit rare tho, lol. (I can send you photos naman for reference)
Ikaw naman... These are not hard requirements naman 'cause sino ba naman ako, diba? Hahaha these are just some attributes that often make me drool... Char! - I like tall guys (like 5'10 pataas) - Broad shoulders? Uh huh. - Smart ass, but not the kind na know-it-all. I just like it when I'm learning new stuff. - Being observant and thoughtful is a plus plus - I like older guys. - Size? No hard preference naman, not too thin tho. I'm afraid I might crush you...
Ayun... Maybe you can let me know more about you?
P.S. I'll be out and about later, baka we can have dinner or something! 🙂

Ready ka na ba kumilala uli ng ibang tao? Yung kukumustahin mo bago matapos ang araw, aayaing lumabas para kumain, mag kape, tumambay, o mag inom?
Ready ka na bang i-share yung mga paborito mong kanta, pelikula, palabas, libro, pati pagkain? Yung sabay kayong manonood o makikinig habang inoobserbahan yung reaksiyon ng isa't-isa?
Ready ka na bang makipag batuhan ng mga ideya at opinyon? Mag sabi at makinig ng mga problema, kwento at mga paniniwala?
Handa ka na bang magpa saya, sumaya, malungkot, masaktan, madisappoint, mamangha at matakot?
Ako, hindi pa. Mukhang malayo pa ko diyan. Pero gusto kong subukan uli. Ikaw, ready ka na?
Pag-usapan natin yan. Pero SFW lang ha. Kilalanin muna siguro natin ang isa't-isa.
Para may idea ka, here are some things about me: - I tend to (over)work 24/7 - I like dogs - I love music but I'm no musician - I'm into sitcoms and comedy shows - Horror and pyscho thriller films excite me - Sadly, sobrang noob ko sa computer games - I drink alcohol and I love coffee - I smoke. Cigs, vape and even the leafy organic stuff (occasionally) - I tend to overthink most of the time but I'm working on it na - I am sarcastic and I make borderline offensive jokes when in awkward situations... - Selosa ako, but I make sure na reasonable naman - I love random "kumusta" messages and smol gestures of appreciation - I like sponty dates and mga biglaang lakad - I stand 5'1 - I'm a big ghorl. Like "big belly fat" and not the thicc baddie typa ghorl. - I believe I'm cute and even pretty on a good day. Good days are a bit rare tho, lol. (I can send you photos naman for reference)
Ikaw naman... These are not hard requirements naman 'cause sino ba naman ako, diba? Hahaha these are just some attributes that often make me drool... Char! - I like tall guys (like 5'10 pataas) - Broad shoulders? Uh huh. - Smart ass, but not the kind na know-it-all. I just like it when I'm learning new stuff. - Being observant and thoughtful is a plus plus - I like older guys. - Size? No hard preference naman, not too thin tho. I'm afraid I might crush you...
Ayun... Maybe you can let me know more about you?
P.S. I'll be out and about later, baka we can have dinner or something! 🙂

...sooooo, Im struggling somewhat with the creation of a character for an upcoming campaign. Normally I rarely run into problems like this, but just got hit with massive writers block while coming up with something decent for this one.
As context - We're told by our DM to create two characters, one being at Lv.3 and one at Lv.10, which are not suppose to be the same person. I had no problem coming up with my 3rd level (Yuan Ti Soulknife) concept, but a decent build for Lv.10 in that group somewhat escapes me.
The 10th level characers already consists of an Aasimar Grave Cleric 6/Eloquence Bard 4 and Tiefling Trickery Cleric 10. As things stand, that will probably leave me as the only frontliner, since neither of them got good physical stats (STDEX - 10/10 and 8/10) and only average-ish INT (8 & 13).
My thoughts so far have boiled down to: Eldritch Knight / War Wiz Blood Hunter / War wiz (or Rogue) Artificer Battlesmith (maybe with Wiz dip)
Besides those, Barbarian & Monk might work, while I would avoid upon Rogue as main class since that is already my Lv.3 char for the same campaign. My original concept was a zealot-type warrior of faith to protect the two clerics, but that is a flavor thing that can easily be pulled of by most builds without specific classes.
All published materials are allowed, no restrictions of multiclassing, subclasses, feats or races. The character in question starts with starting equip, 100g as well as one common & one uncommon magic item.
Starting at Lv.10 gives me some wiggleroom, but seeing as we got overwhelming WIS and CHA (18/18 and 18/13) already, the choices seem somewhat limited - Especially since also going ranged would probably lead to a lot of weird encounters. Further, there may be another player joining, who may or may not go with a Hexblade/Paladin combo, so even more CHA. Not sure I can count on them joining tho, as they are usually quite busy.
Any ideas or thoughts at all would be highly appreciated, as I really hit a wall on this one, trying to figure something out by myself...

...sooooo, Im struggling somewhat with the creation of a character for an upcoming campaign. Normally I rarely run into problems like this, but just got hit with massive writers block while coming up with something decent for this one.
As context - We're told by our DM to create two characters, one being at Lv.3 and one at Lv.10, which are not suppose to be the same person. I had no problem coming up with my 3rd level (Yuan Ti Soulknife) concept, but a decent build for Lv.10 in that group somewhat escapes me.
The 10th level characers already consists of an Aasimar Grave Cleric 6/Eloquence Bard 4 and Tiefling Trickery Cleric 10. As things stand, that will probably leave me as the only frontliner, since neither of them got good physical stats (STDEX - 10/10 and 8/10) and only average-ish INT (8 & 13).
My thoughts so far have boiled down to:
Eldritch Knight / War Wiz
Blood Hunter / War wiz (or Rogue)
Artificer Battlesmith (maybe with Wiz dip)
Besides those, Barbarian & Monk might work, while I would avoid upon Rogue as main class since that is already my Lv.3 char for the same campaign. My original concept was a zealot-type warrior of faith to protect the two clerics, but that is a flavor thing that can easily be pulled of by most builds without specific classes.
All published materials are allowed, no restrictions of multiclassing, subclasses, feats or races. The character in question starts with starting equip, 100g as well as one common & one uncommon magic item.
Starting at Lv.10 gives me some wiggleroom, but seeing as we got overwhelming WIS and CHA (18/18 and 18/13) already, the choices seem somewhat limited - Especially since also going ranged would probably lead to a lot of weird encounters. Further, there may be another player joining, who may or may not go with a Hexblade/Paladin combo, so even more CHA. Not sure I can count on them joining tho, as they are usually quite busy.
Any ideas or thoughts at all would be highly appreciated, as I really hit a wall on this one, trying to figure something out by myself...

...sooooo, Im struggling somewhat with the creation of a character for an upcoming campaign. Normally I rarely run into problems like this, but just got hit with massive writers block while coming up with something decent for this one.
As context - We're told by our DM to create two characters, one being at Lv.3 and one at Lv.10, which are not suppose to be the same person. I had no problem coming up with my 3rd level (Yuan Ti Soulknife) concept, but a decent build for Lv.10 in that group somewhat escapes me.
The 10th level characers already consists of an Aasimar Grave Cleric 6/Eloquence Bard 4 and Tiefling Trickery Cleric 10. As things stand, that will probably leave me as the only frontliner, since neither of them got good physical stats (STDEX - 10/10 and 8/10) and only average-ish INT (8 & 13).
My thoughts so far have boiled down to:
Eldritch Knight / War Wiz
Blood Hunter / War wiz (or Rogue)
Artificer Battlesmith (maybe with Wiz dip)
Besides those, Barbarian & Monk might work, while I would avoid upon Rogue as main class since that is already my Lv.3 char for the same campaign. My original concept was a zealot-type warrior of faith to protect the two clerics, but that is a flavor thing that can easily be pulled of by most builds without specific classes.
All published materials are allowed, no restrictions of multiclassing, subclasses, feats or races. The character in question starts with starting equip, 100g as well as one common & one uncommon magic item.
Starting at Lv.10 gives me some wiggleroom, but seeing as we got overwhelming WIS and CHA (18/18 and 18/13) already, the choices seem somewhat limited - Especially since also going ranged would probably lead to a lot of weird encounters. Further, there may be another player joining, who may or may not go with a Hexblade/Paladin combo, so even more CHA. Not sure I can count on them joining tho, as they are usually quite busy.
Any ideas or thoughts at all would be highly appreciated, as I really hit a wall on this one, trying to figure something out by myself...

...sooooo, Im struggling somewhat with the creation of a character for an upcoming campaign. Normally I rarely run into problems like this, but just got hit with massive writers block while coming up with something decent for this one.
As context - We're told by our DM to create two characters, one being at Lv.3 and one at Lv.10, which are not suppose to be the same person. I had no problem coming up with my 3rd level (Yuan Ti Soulknife) concept, but a decent build for Lv.10 in that group somewhat escapes me.
The 10th level characers already consists of an Aasimar Grave Cleric 6/Eloquence Bard 4 and Tiefling Trickery Cleric 10. As things stand, that will probably leave me as the only frontliner, since neither of them got good physical stats (STDEX - 10/10 and 8/10) and only average-ish INT (8 & 13).
My thoughts so far have boiled down to:
Eldritch Knight / War Wiz
Blood Hunter / War wiz (or Rogue)
Artificer Battlesmith (maybe with Wiz dip)
Besides those, Barbarian & Monk might work, while I would avoid upon Rogue as main class since that is already my Lv.3 char for the same campaign. My original concept was a zealot-type warrior of faith to protect the two clerics, but that is a flavor thing that can easily be pulled of by most builds without specific classes.
All published materials are allowed, no restrictions of multiclassing, subclasses, feats or races. The character in question starts with starting equip, 100g as well as one common & one uncommon magic item.
Starting at Lv.10 gives me some wiggleroom, but seeing as we got overwhelming WIS and CHA (18/18 and 18/13) already, the choices seem somewhat limited - Especially since also going ranged would probably lead to a lot of weird encounters. Further, there may be another player joining, who may or may not go with a Hexblade/Paladin combo, so even more CHA. Not sure I can count on them joining tho, as they are usually quite busy.
Any ideas or thoughts at all would be highly appreciated, as I really hit a wall on this one, trying to figure something out by myself...

...sooooo, Im struggling somewhat with the creation of a character for an upcoming campaign. Normally I rarely run into problems like this, but just got hit with massive writers block while coming up with something decent for this one.
As context - We're told by our DM to create two characters, one being at Lv.3 and one at Lv.10, which are not suppose to be the same person. I had no problem coming up with my 3rd level (Yuan Ti Soulknife) concept, but a decent build for Lv.10 in that group somewhat escapes me.
The 10th level characers already consists of an Aasimar Grave Cleric 6/Eloquence Bard 4 and Tiefling Trickery Cleric 10. As things stand, that will probably leave me as the only frontliner, since neither of them got good physical stats (STDEX - 10/10 and 8/10) and only average-ish INT (8 & 13).
My thoughts so far have boiled down to:
Eldritch Knight / War Wiz
Blood Hunter / War wiz (or Rogue)
Artificer Battlesmith (maybe with Wiz dip)
Besides those, Barbarian & Monk might work, while I would avoid upon Rogue as main class since that is already my Lv.3 char for the same campaign. My original concept was a zealot-type warrior of faith to protect the two clerics, but that is a flavor thing that can easily be pulled of by most builds without specific classes.
All published materials are allowed, no restrictions of multiclassing, subclasses, feats or races. The character in question starts with starting equip, 100g as well as one common & one uncommon magic item.
Starting at Lv.10 gives me some wiggleroom, but seeing as we got overwhelming WIS and CHA (18/18 and 18/13) already, the choices seem somewhat limited - Especially since also going ranged would probably lead to a lot of weird encounters. Further, there may be another player joining, who may or may not go with a Hexblade/Paladin combo, so even more CHA. Not sure I can count on them joining tho, as they are usually quite busy.
Any ideas or thoughts at all would be highly appreciated, as I really hit a wall on this one, trying to figure something out by myself...

Arcanemigration ch4 Room to grow
As I sit at the edge of a stream near the entrance of my cave i Cast my gaze upon the tranquil scenery, I realize that it holds a newfound significance for me. It has provided me with sustenance, a source of water, and now a temporary respite from the stress of constant work. The fish continue their rhythmic dance in the water.
I reach for my fishing spear, determined to catch a meal to replenish my strength. As I prepare to strike, I hear a faint rustling from the nearby bushes. Instinctively, I grip the spear tighter and scan the surroundings. The eyes of the goblins still haunt my thoughts, reminding me that danger lurks even in the most peaceful moments.
Instead of a goblin that emerges from the brush. It is a creature unlike any I have encountered before—a majestic white pearlescent stag with antlers that seem to reach towards the heavens. Its eyes are filled swirling waves of a blue wisdom and a green of serenity that I have rarely witnessed.
The stag approaches the stream, its graceful movements leaving me in awe. It drinks from the water with a glowing reflection shimmering in the gentle ripples. I watch in silence, a mix of reverence and curiosity stirring within me. Could this be a sign? A guiding presence in this harsh world?
The stag lifts its head, its gaze meeting mine. For a brief moment, time stands still. And then, as if acknowledging my presence, it takes a step closer, its hooves barely making a sound on the soft earth.
In that moment, a realization dawns upon me. The goblins, the battles, the struggle to survive—they are but a small part of a much greater tapestry of the journey to come. There are forces at play beyond my comprehension, and while they may not have taken notice of my deeds, they have sent me a message through this ethereal encounter.
I lower my spear, a newfound sense of purpose coursing through my veins. I will not only defend this sanctuary against the goblin hordes but also strive to understand the mysteries that surround me. I will seek knowledge, forge alliances, and uncover the truths that lie hidden within this world.
With renewed determination, I set my sights on fortifying the cave, transforming it into a stronghold that not only protects me but also serves as a beacon of resilience and defiance. The goblins may still pose a threat, but I am no longer just a survivor—I am a warrior with a purpose.
The stag watches me closely and thoughtfully As I prepare to embark on this new chapter, I offer my silent gratitude to the creature before it gracefully disappears into the depths of the forest.
The journey ahead will be arduous, and the trials I face will test my strength, both physical and spiritual. I may be alone but With the spirit of the stag guiding me, and the scars of my past battles etched into my flesh, I step forward, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
I am the defender of this sanctuary, the seeker of truths, and the embodiment of resilience. And as I move forward, I carry with me the wisdom of the stag and the unwavering determination to protect what is mine.
Inside the cave, I take stock of my resources. Though limited, they are enough to begin the task at hand. And get to work smoothing down the hard stone again until it is the right shape. Then heat up the rock in my fore and then drip cold water along the edge to shatter bits off to make a sharp edge. Then I find the largest bone in the bone pile seemingly a femur and with some work and supplies I bind them together. Lastly I char the bone to seal it.
{Crude woodcutting axe} Wood-damage : +50% Range:3 Bone: +1 durability Char: +1 longevity
Using this makeshift tool, I venture into the surrounding forest, seeking sturdy trees suitable for reinforcement. With each swing of the axe, I feel a sense of empowerment. It is not just the physical act of cutting wood but also the symbol of taking control over my environment. I am no longer at the mercy of nature; I am the one shaping my destiny.
The axe bites into the wood, and with each felled tree, I feel like it's getting easier. Then chopping the tree into logs and branches. I gather logs and branches, forming a stockpile near the cave entrance. I return multiple times, driven by a relentless determination to create a formidable barrier against any future onslaught. I also collect large rocks from the nearby riverbed, utilizing them to strengthen the cave's entrance.
Hours turn into days as I toil, the sweat mingling with the dirt on my brow. With each passing moment, the cave transforms into a sanctuary that reflects my resilience. The once-vulnerable entrance is now fortified with thick logs and sturdy rocks, creating a formidable barrier that would give even the most determined goblin pause.
As I stand back to survey my handiwork, a sense of accomplishment washes over me. The cave, once a mere shelter, has evolved into a stronghold—a testament to my will to survive and protect what is mine. The scars on my body are mirrored in the scars on the land, each a reminder of the battles fought and won.
With the physical defenses in place, I turn my attention to the interior of the cave. I make a simple stone chisel with a replaceable head and useing the same sharp stone, I shape smaller logs into makeshift furniture—a crude bed, a rough-hewn table, and even a shelf to store my meager belongings. I carve niches into the walls to hold torches, their flickering light banishing the shadows that once haunted this place.
As I sit on my newly crafted bed, a flicker of the white stag's presence dances in my mind. I realize that my soul has been blessed with a simple yet useful ability—a keen intuition that guides me in times of danger. It is as if the spirit of the white stag has bestowed upon me a heightened sense of awareness, allowing me to anticipate danger before it strikes.
(Blessing of the stag) Soul trait The user knows when immediate death is near.
With the cave fortified and made livable, I find a moment of respite. I lay on my rough bed, the scars on my body throbbing with both pain and pride. The journey has been grueling, and the battles have taken their toll, but I am ready to face whatever lies ahead. In that moment I notice some notifications I may have ignored or didn't see before.
{Shelter -> Home} Sufficient upgrades have been made do you accept the ownership of this new Home. YES : NO
It doesn't take long but I say yes after I do other pop-ups make themselves know.
HOME This designation partains to places meant for long term living not just survival and can have major improvements and is meant for months to years of living. Many improvements can be made, few expansions can be made tho and only minor differences can be erected. If major improvements are made until there are none left to make and all minor traps are established then it will automatically move into the [BASE] designation. This designation can trigger only minor events.
There now seems to be a few tabs available to me including (defenses),(furniture),(waist room),(pool room),(the pit),(main room)
[You have now made the first step to living in this world and have gained one new skill and 1 level]
Learned skill [ wood working] Rarity: uncommon The user can efficiently cut trees down and work them into anything from small art pieces and furniture to walls and defenses.
And I guess I need to now see what leveling up is like. It can't be that hard I'll also need to go through my windows and learn everything I can about this system.
STATS LV:6 CLASS:NONE NAME: WILLIAM RACE:HUMAN [WHITE] AGE: 23YEARS OLD WEIGHT: 250LB HEALTH :(LV6 * CON14)= 84 ARCANA :(LV6 * INT33) 198 -198=0 PHYSICAL : (LV6 *DEX10)= 60
STRENGTH : 15 DEXTERITY :10 CONSTITUTION :14 INTELLIGENCE :33 WISDOM :27 CHARISMA :-2 LUCK :10
STAT POINTS :5
I close my eyes, allowing the exhaustion to wash over me, knowing that tomorrow will bring new challenges. But with the wisdom of the stag etched into my soul and the strength of my defenses surrounding me, I find solace in the knowledge that I am prepared. And with 5 stat points I should be able to see a difference after using them.
The goblins may regroup and seek revenge, or another threat can raise it's ugly head but they will find a changed man awaiting them—a warrior with a fortified sanctuary, a soul.

Inspired by this post last league, I started Crucible with a Glacial Hammer Berserker. The build is awesome. The damage has felt really good and getting started was just as cheap as advertised. I went through a rough patch when getting to red maps because I couldn't handle elemental ailments well, but after adjusting some gear it was fairly smooth sailing again to T16s.
I play fairly casually and am now around the 80-hour mark for the league. I've had a fair amount of luck with drops and I've invested ~8 divines in the build. But, I'm now at a point where I feel stuck and am not sure how to proceed from here.
Here's my character on poe.ninja, which has a PoB import code. Note that it looks strange at first glance because I'm using a timeless jewel for Divine Flesh to stack chaos resistance. It also doesn't appear to show my shield's Crucible tree, which provides shock immunity (and will soon give me another minimum endurance charge).
For mapping, my damage is great. My main issue is how often I'm dying (which I hate...I'd be playing Hardcore if I had more time). I haven't been able to level up past 95 yet because I get wrecked by something every 3-4 maps on average. This doesn't make a lot of sense to me because I've got pretty high EHP, lots of defensive layers, and I'm doing alch-and-go Wandering Path with non-corrupted maps I've carefully chosen the modifiers on. My main problem is random rares/uniques in Delirium and Crucible (I never charge past 60%, but occasionally even that is too much), some Essence monsters, and the occasional map boss (The Eradicator, for example, was rough).
I'm sure some of this is due to me still being bad at the game and not being able to do or recognize certain mechanics. But, I'm just over 1000 hours into Path of Exile now and, up until this point, was comfortable figuring out what killed me and how to adjust the build to compensate. I thought I should be able to use this build to do everything but Ubers and maybe The Feared with around this level of investment. But, now that I'm here, I have realized this might not be the case without a lot more dying and XP loss.
Anyway, I just lucked into a "final boss drops 4 divine orbs" altar yesterday and now have an opportunity to double my investment in the build. I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to get out of the local maximum I've found myself in and get to a really comfy place, or if I should be putting that currency toward another character instead now that I've got a decent mapper. I don't really care about ubers, but I would ideally like to finish my atlas. The closest I've been is with my RF Inquisitor last league (couldn't kill Maven, Uber Elder, or The Feared, but I got the rest).
Any help or advice people could give me would be appreciated. Thanks!

'Table Data' is what I call a feature in my languages were I can define parallel sets of arrays, or arrays and enums, in a way that makes it easy to write and maintain.
I've been using it for well over a decade, and find it indispensable. The funny thing is, I don't really remember seeing anything similar anywhere else. The nearest such feature is something that C calls 'X-macros`. An example of using X-macros together with my version is given below.
My table data started off existing in data files, which a script converted into program code. Then I incorporated it into the language, where it is very easy to add: it is just syntax.
Since then I've split the feature into enumdata, where the first column defines a set of simple enums, the rest are array columns; and tabledata where every column is a separate array.
(I used to allow an umbrella type to be defined for the enum names, which provided a namespace, but I never used that feature and it was dropped.)
So, here is an example of X-macros, one I found online, which took me half an hour to figure out to expand it to have an extra RGB column (I still don't quite understand how it works!):

#include  #define COLORS \ X(WHITE, 0xFFFFFF) \ X(RED, 0xFF0000) \ X(GREEN, 0x00FF00) \ X(BLUE, 0x0000FF) \ X(BLACK, 0x000000) enum colors { #define X(value, rgb) value, COLORS #undef X }; char* toString(enum colors value) { switch (value) { #define X(color, rgb) \ case color: \ return #color; COLORS #undef X } } int getrgb(enum colors value) { switch (value) { #define X(color, rgb) \ case color: \ return rgb; COLORS #undef X } } int main(void) { for (int i=WHITE; i<=BLACK; ++i) { printf("%d: %8s %06X\n", i, toString(i), getrgb(i)); } } 

I have to say, I'd forgotten how much of an abomination it is. Here's the equivalent using my feature:

enumdata []ichar colournames, []int rgbvalues = (White, $, 0xFFFFFF), (Red, $, 0xFF0000), (Green, $, 0x00FF00), (Blue, $, 0x0000FF), (Black, $, 0x000000), end proc main = for i in White..Black do println i, colournames[i]:"8", rgbvalues[i]:"z6h" end end 

(The $ you see is a device that stringifies the last enum name, otherwise you can just write "Red" and so on. Slightly more advanced enums would provide their own names; I don't have those.)
As I said I use this VERY extensively; how on earth do people manage without it? Do they just have to do extra maintenance? Or are similar features hacked together with whatever advanced macros the language provides like those X-macros? The way I do it doesn't need advanced features!
Here's an example of parallel arrays:

global tabledata []ichar dregnames, []byte regsizes, []byte regindices = ("d0", 8, r0), ! rax (this is a comment) ("d1", 8, r1), ! r10 ("d2", 8, r2), ! r11 .... ("a0", 4, r0), ("a1", 4, r1), .... 

Parallel arrays are easier to emulate using an array of records, or tuples, but they can be less convenient than independent arrays, can be less efficient (some columns might be rarely used, you don't want that data in the cache), and you to define that extra record or use tuple indices.
(Here this linear table is used to populate a hierarchical symbol table.)
PS I do remember seeing this in another language recently, done properly, but I don't recall which. But that was the only time!

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“Are you sure about this?” Comms called through the short-wave, Willin’s headset crackling only slightly louder than the pouring rain. It was distorted and covered the timbre of his voice, but it worked.
He checked the batteries on his guns, both pistol and rifle topped off. The pistol was secured into the holster on his hip, the rifle slung across his chest over the heat-plate designed to dissipate any plasma that might hit it. His armour wouldn’t do the best against kinetic armaments—it was never designed to go against a railgun—but military personnel were rarely given those anyway. Too inefficient.
“As sure as I can be,” he replied, checking his harness. Two spare batteries, four ration packs, water, the transmitter that fed into his headset, some assorted tools for unlikely scenarios, and a knife tucked into his boot. The footwear was typically used for traversing hostile environments or boarding operations—the material thick and cumbersome—but it worked just fine for him. He had gotten used to wearing it.
He opted not to bother with the helmet. It would limit his senses in a place like this, the EW field making even the most basic function disorienting. Tech adjusted the physical scope on her rifle, though her favourite weapons were the two Compact Anti-personnel and Rapid Discharge systems she had attached to her hips—the CARDs being designed to switch between rapid-shot clusters to suppress a wide area, and a single-fire mode better suited to more precise requirements. The larger weapon was mostly for show—there was hardly a reason to carry an Anti-Material Rifle to begin with—but it didn’t hurt to counter possible armour.
The purple-furred female’s true weaponry rested both on and under her armour, her augments and the equipment linked to them making her a mobile Electronic Warfare platform. Though much of her abilities would be limited in scope here, she was still more than capable of supporting him. He would be relying on her to dissuade any action against them, as well as using her modifications to keep them in the loop.
She looked like an oddly-coloured female, but she was closer to a walking EMP and scanner rolled into one.
“Short-wave is stable, if a bit distorted,” Willin continued, flicking some of the water off his fur. “Tech will try to keep the signal clean, but no promises. Comms, Nav, you two are keeping the craft warm and ready.”
“Understood, Leader,” Nav replied, their androgynous voice warbling slightly. “Estimated time-frame?”
“Long enough for you two to figure out the ration-packets.”
Comms laughed over the headset. “Nav would rather lick the floors.”
“Just don’t get too distracted with each other while we’re gone,” Willin teased through his smirk, Tech rolling her eyes at him.
“The same could be said for you, Leader. Don’t get too caught up making ‘friends’ with the locals.”
“Or Tech,” Nav added dryly. Their tone hovering between annoyance at the jibes regarding Comms and Nav’s occasional fling, and amusement at the suggestion Tech was interested in pursuits of the flesh with the crew at all. She might be, but she had a habit of dropping the thermostat of whichever room belonged to whoever made the comment, so it was safer to just assume she was off-limits.
“Cold room,” Tech responded casually as she adjusted her audio interface, Nav sighing loud enough for it to be picked up. Comms laughed in a way that suggested he was thankful for Tech’s assistance in ensuring Nav would be seeking a warm bed for the moon. Willin shook his head, hoping that they didn’t need to extract in any particular hurry.
It was easier to get in the air when your two remaining crew weren’t otherwise occupied.
“Batteries green. Supplies green. Short-wave sufficient,” he reported, receiving confirmations from Tech. “Operation is to establish communication with local Grand Hunter and receive compliance, information on other packs, and facilitate reintroduction to structure.”
“Alternative is to report pack as non-compliant and pursue other Grand Hunters,” Tech added, repeating what they went over earlier. “My augments are heavily limited, but we should be able to deal with it.”
“Are you sure that you two can manage hostilities?” Comms asked, his voice faltering slightly. Though they had been assigned to the scout craft at random, they had grown rather close as a unit over their time. If it wasn’t for the professional obligations prohibiting it, they might have all decided to move into a den together—they were that intimately familiar with each other. As it was, they would likely be reassigned to serve elsewhere after their current mission was complete.
Such was the life of those like them.
“Tech has more equipment under her fur than our ship has installed—weakened or not,” Willin assured the male. He shot a pointed look at the female. “She’s also under direct order to return in the event things become too dangerous. Alone, if required.”
Tech scowled, but nodded anyway. Comms grunted their understanding. “Leader?”
“Yeah?”
A moment of pause. “Nothing. Come back, okay?”
“Will do my best, Comms. Nav, keep an eye on him.”
“It will be done, Leader. Stay safe.”
He placed a paw to his headset, hovering over the button to cut the transmission. “You too.”
“Ready to go?” Tech asked, slinging her AMR over her back and re-securing her CARDs. Willin double checked his auxiliary equipment, hoping that he didn’t need to use any of it. Nodding, he gestured for her to follow, the two leaving behind the craft to slip into the woods.
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“Something up?” he asked, raising a brow at Tech. The female was fidgety, restless and scanning their surroundings more than required. She might have heard something, but the thunderous hiss of rain drowned out most everything—it was part of the reason they waited for it.
She wore a reluctant expression, her eyes flickering to the silver and gold trees for a moment. “Prox’ is going wild.”
“Proximity sensor effected?” he queried, feeling the weight of his weapons tug on his body. Tech nodded.
“It’s weak. I think the ‘spike is messing with it—along with everything else—but it’s reporting…a lot.”
“Moving?”
She shook her head, a paw twitching over a CARD. “Not until we go past them.”
He joined her in looking around, shaking off water uselessly. “Wildlife?”
“This stealthy?”
Willin shrugged. “The message mentioned that it was different.”
“Details would have been nice,” she grumbled in return, waving her paw to get him moving again, though she kept one on her weapon.
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“Visual,” he reported, lowering the rifle from his shoulder. “Anything?”
Tech shook her head, still on a swivel. “Prox’ is still lit up, but at this point it might be less distracting to shut it off.”
“Keep it. Rather have it telling us things are around all the time than miss something big because we got annoyed.”
She sighed, tapping her audio interface twice to change the song she had playing. “What do you see?”
“Low fences, but dense buildings. Lots of traffic despite the weather. Looks like they’re used to it. Think they know we’re here?”
“Doubt it. Gear?”
He shouldered his weapon to look through the scope. “No guns, but lots of melee. Armour seems to be a mix of leather and metal. Can’t say what kind.”
Tech pulled her AMR to look, Willin shifting to keeping lookout. “No guns…” She shot him a look. “I’m not sure if that’s reassuring, or worrying.”
He shrugged. “The less I need to get shot at with, the better.”
“The goal is to not give them reason to.”
“Well, I can’t be perfect all the time.”
Tech laughed, the banter easing her nerves. “You’d have to start, Leader.”
With a roll of his eyes, he patted her shoulder with the back of his paw. “Let’s get moving. Diplomacy doesn’t do itself.”
The purple-furred female sighed, likely biting back another quip as she nodded.
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It went better than expected. So far, anyway.
They had approached the settlement proper, received what could be described as a ‘lukewarm’ welcome, then were told to follow several Lilhuns donning black leather and far too many daggers. Their escorts kept a close eye on the guns that they brought, but no one had made any comments about them yet. It was encouraging, but also worrying.
“Still nothing?” he muttered, quiet enough to not be heard by the others, but loud enough for Tech. She seemed hesitant, glancing over to one of the taller structures as they passed through, but gave a subtle shrug.
“Static is messing with my augments,” she grumbled. “Could be none, could be a few snipers. I can’t tell.”
He exhaled heavily. It was a bit of a blessing that her modifications were working at all, but it was easy enough to see that she felt bare without all the little tweaks she had gotten used to.
Willin never actually got the chance to learn all the tricks she was capable of—it was against policy to ask and she never saw fit to talk about it—but of the ones he did know; her proximity sensor, jammer, and ship integration were her favourites.
It was hard to board her ship if she knew where you were, locked up your gun, then spaced the room you were in, all without closing her game. He was pretty sure she was disappointed that she had only gotten to do that once.
“New ones, the Grand Hunter will see you soon,” an escort informed them as they drew near the Atmospheric Entry Craft that acted as a den for the one they were here to meet. They didn’t know the name yet, nor were they given the chance to do more than say why they were there. He had gotten as far as saying he was from the United Military before the people welcoming them scurried off to get someone else.
He busied himself by inspecting the buildings leading up to the AEC, some being a respectable three floors. Newer constructions seemed to differ in method, the beams a charred ashen colour rather than the same odd silver wood. Why they had elected to burn the materials, he didn’t know, but it seemed to be what they decided to do.
A surprising amount of the population carried a curved stick over their shoulder, the ends tied together by a string. Some attached lengths of a similar material to their leathers, one end made with a small loop as it dangled. The catch they carried to what looked to be a hunter’s lodge suggested it was used during their hunting, but he couldn’t fathom how.
Dragging his attention from the crowd, he eyed the large shuttle.
The massive main doors looked to have been damaged, though a structure had been attached since, leaving the stuck-open entrance to seem less like the result of a hard landing. The gentle hum of the internal power generation was absent, the required energy for what was still working being drawn from large solar panels that had been installed into skylights in the ceiling. The cloud-laden weather dimmed the light that illuminated the inside, but it was serviceable enough. Whatever power was produced, it was being funnelled somewhere that wasn’t servicing the majority of the craft.
Wide halls were populated by Lilhuns and spotted with doorways, the majority propped open since they were programmed to shut in the event of a power outage, lest explosive decompression eject whomever was occupying the room—along with anyone nearby in the hallway, should they be so unlucky.
It was customized, that much was obvious. Several rooms that would have been sparsely populated with anything other than beds were instead modified into training rooms and gyms. Densely packed barracks contrasted against large storage areas filled with various goods, pelts and metal weapons lining various shelves. Newer accommodations had been installed for more of those curved staffs, smaller pointed sticks stacked in piles nearby.
They progressed deeper and deeper into the confines of the shuttle, the common sight of the local pack trickling away, none seeming to have business this far in. Gruffer and more observant Lilhuns became the only people they saw while the hallways narrowed into tighter quarters, what might have fit cargo vehicles now only allowing a few shoulder widths, doorways becoming less common. The wary eyes and darkened clothing paired with the occasional dyed fur of those they passed—black seeming to be the dominant colour.
“In here,” an escort grunted, jabbing their jaw towards an isolated door. A paw was held out as they tried to step forward. “Weapons.”
Tech’s paw twitched towards one of her CARDs, the act of Willin relinquishing his pistol and rifle stopping her from snapping it into rapid-fire and burning the air with plasma. She glared at him for a few seconds before doing the same, the escort smirking.
“You will have them returned. The Grand Hunter is not so desolate as to pilfer the possessions of those who come merely to speak.”
He wasn’t worried about it. The guns were coded to them and Tech could fry them if it came down to it. Well, he wasn’t sure if she could do it with the warp-spike messing with things, but the lock should be enough. The knife in his boot went unnoticed, so it wasn’t like he was completely unarmed anyway.
Tech followed suit, subtly glaring at him the whole time. He shrugged, there wasn’t much they could do about it. They were the ones seeking an audience with the most influential person here.
Satisfied, the escort pulled the door open, the quiet whirring of the unpowered servos accenting the air. They revealed a larger office adorned with little but the most base necessity, a wood and steel desk covered in papers, a chair seeming to be the only extravagant item within—though it was purely for the ergonomics, rather than any aesthetic reason—and the male sat upon it was leafing through a collection of documents while twirling an orange needle-like object in his paw.
The distinct lack of any guards to protect the Grand Hunter was surprising, but that took a back seat to the owner of the room.
Dark grey fur, a clouded eye that retained its sharpness, scars peeking beyond the confines of his leather clothing—the thick hides sporting metal scales sewn onto them. An ear flicked in their direction, the membrane cut at several points. He placed down his papers, leaning forward in his chair as he clasped his paws on the desk, a friendly smile donned that failed to convey anything but malice.
“Greetings, new ones,” the male offered in a cheery tone, the low rumble and gravelled texture of his voice carrying both humour and curiosity. He focused on Tech for a moment, his eyes narrowing over the affable expression before he regarded both of them equally. He gestured to the seating opposite of his desk some small distance away. Close enough to meet, yet far enough that it was made abundantly clear who was in charge.
Willin bowed his head politely, walking the distance and sitting where he was provided. Tech followed suit after a brief hesitation, her unfocused eyes snapping to him with frustration. His raised brow was met with a longer blink—her augments were reporting something that made no sense again.
“Now then,” the dark grey-furred male said, moving some of the documents on his desk to a stack. “What might bring you to me?”
“Forgive me, Grand Hunter…” Willin opened, prodding for a name.
The male simply maintained his attentive posture instead of providing. Willin adjusted his sleeve and decided it was more important to continue than dig for information that he could get by asking anyone who lived in the settlement.
“As for why we’re here; we represent the United Military, responding to a distress call. We have forwarded the request and were tasked with ascertaining the state of affairs before the fleets arrive to assist.”
The Grand Hunter nodded. “Yes, that much I could have surmised from your clothing alone.”
Tech raised a brow as the dark green-furred soldier forced a smile. “Of course. More specifically, we would like to speak with you about what you know of the others of your station, as well as discuss the reintegration of your pack.”
The smile of the grey-furred male widened. “You wish to make a deal?”
Tech’s gaze flickered to several points in the room, her brow furrowing as she jettisoned a huff in frustration. Willin took a moment to consider his plan of action, nodding when he didn’t see the harm.
“I believe we can come to an arrangement. Within reason, of course.”
The Grand Hunter chuckled as the needle he was playing with disappeared at a flick of his wrist. “Of course, of course. Deal, agreements, arrangements, contracts.” The emphasis on the final item tickled something in the back of Willin’s mind. “Itemize it. What do you seek of me? It is rather disorganized to ask without quantifying, no? So…messy.”
“We want information on the other packs. Who leads them, number of members, where their settlements are,” Tech stated tersely, ignoring the disapproving glance Willin gave. “We also need to work on integrating those packs back into the UM—preferably with yourself setting precedent.”
The male’s face grew thoughtful. “As well as forgiveness, though that will cost quite the amount.”
Willin frowned. “Forgiveness? For not knowing your name?”
The Grand Hunter returned a blank stare, a dangerous grin spreading slowly. “Tell me, new ones, do you know of Avalon?”
Tech’s face hardened, her answer slow and cautious. “We do, though only through description.”
The male’s voice fell low. Quiet, yet powerful. His elbows on the table suddenly felt like a far greater threat than any armament. “Do you know the debt your superiors have incurred?”
“I don’t believe we have even had the chance to introduce ourselves,” Willin interjected, noticing Tech’s discomfort, her eyes darting around the room nervously.
“You need not,” the Grand Hunter remarked smugly. “You are forbidden from giving your names, no? Locked behind titles of station, merged and scattered at the whims of your masters. Soldiers who do not exist, yet sit within my office.”
Tech pawed for a CARD, forgetting that she had been disarmed at the door. Willin felt the weight of his knife pull on his boot. The male chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.
“But, given that you did not flee, I will give the benefit of the doubt regarding the debt. Though, it will make offering you more than your lives difficult.”
“What debt?” Willin pressed, receiving a flippant wave of the male’s paw.
“It matters not. I have more pressing matters than hearing why I should join the ranks of that which I supersede.”
“Matters such as?”
The Grand Hunter raised a brow. “You are being given the opportunity to leave whole, new one. I advise you to accept.”
Willin shook his head, ignoring Tech’s pointed look. “We need information. From the message we received, not everyone is as well off as you, and we intend to amend that. What can we trade for it?”
The male clasped his paws over his stomach, passively humouring them. “What do you offer? You may seek the details of the others, but I am not inclined to merely supply it.”
“Supplies, priority cooperation when the UM arrives.”
A chortle sounded out. “We are self sufficient. Such matters little.”
“Is there anything you would want?”
The Grand Hunter smirked, placing a paw on the table as the other produced another needle—this one a more yellow hue, the specifics of its shape blurring as it spun between his claws. “Your superiors asked me a favour. Data. How far could they push the Lilhun body before ligaments broke, the mind following shortly after? How twisted can we shape the psyche of kits?”
The temperature of the room seemed to chill, a twitch of the male’s lips pulling his muzzle into a slight snarl.
“They sought my kit to participate, after a time. Unfortunately, her will aligned—despite my reservations. In return, she would be wiped from the records. Ephemeral, never having existed to begin with. Never suffering the whims of those who became drunk on sending my Blades to their end, never finding their other.” The gravel to his voice turned to broken glass. “Yet your betters violated the agreement. Broke the contract. They pulled her into your service, hid the fact from me, and had the gall to fabricate a story to coincide. Were it not for a particular series of favours I was owed, I would have been still planet-side in our system instead of here.”
The dark grey-furred male smirked, his demeanour relaxing. “It seems she has found what she sought. Without need for my meddling, at that. A shame, really. I had several competent males selected—those who could wield what she had become. Those who might give her what her blood-mother failed to gain.” He paused for a moment, a fraction of longing piercing through the scarred exterior. “Regardless, all I would have wanted has been gained. She is content, and I am crafting that which shall accept her when she is ready. Your military will only muddy that which I have achieved, were they to dig their claws into my work.”
“Their actions are separate from ours,” Willin countered, thankful that the impending conflict had seemingly resolved itself.
“Grand Hunter,” Tech addressed the male, an eye flicking to the ceiling for a fraction. “We were able to see that there are a fair number of settlements, but we need the information to do our job.”
“And your task would interfere with my own,” the grey-furred male reiterated, a polite—if bored—expression returned.
“What if we could ensure that it didn’t?”
The disinterest in the male’s eyes slipped into curiosity. “You seek to trade sovereignty for information? You hold such power?”
“We do,” Willin confirmed, surprised that Tech would offer. “Though you would be disregarding the support of the United Military, we could arrange an agreement of territory on this planet. It’s not as if we could populate the entirety of it within several of our lifetimes anyway.”
The Grand Hunter stared, each moment more uncomfortable than the last. Eventually, he smirked. “Information and the disregarding of the sins your betters inflicted upon me, for sovereignty…and a singular favour.”
“Favour?”
“Indeed,” he replied confidently, reaching into his desk to produce writing implements and paper. “You see, my kit has pledged herself to someone of curiosity. I thought him worthless. Weak. Yet he has performed a duty befitting her Sheath, and I suppose I should reward it.”
Scribbling ceased, impeccable penmanship crafting a contract that was slid forward on the tabletop. He continued after gesturing for Willin to approach.
“Seek him last, give him what information you have gathered, then heed his request,” the male said through his smirk. “I do so look forward to seeing what becomes of it.”
The dark green-furred male perused the document, stipulations and all finely articulated, as if the Grand Hunter lived and breathed transaction. A few points needed to be addressed, mostly possible abuse cases within the fine print, but it was surprisingly fair. There was some worry about the otherwise excessive cost of breaking the contract, but Willin figured that it would be reasonable enough considering the circumstances.
Signing, he gestured Tech to do the same as a witness, the two of them representing the UM for all intents and purposes. It was hardly the first time they had made agreements like this, though trading such a large area on a planet they held no prior influence on was a first.
The Grand Hunter confirmed the terms and conditions with them one last time, smiling when they both nodded.
“Good! Now, for what you seek.” The male rummaged through a few drawers, producing a series of papers that were lined over the desk towards them. “The non-aggression treaty, as well as what my Blades have observed from their scouting.”
Willin read over each, the documents sorted by Grand Hunter, then by who they had under them. His brow raised at a few reports, but questions could wait. The male seemed happy to let them read, so he wanted to take advantage of it. Tech scanned over everything when Willin was done, her augments allowing her to commit the information to a digital memory for future reference back on the ship.
“There are quite a few names marked with this,” Tech noted aloud, pointing to a symbol next to several of the Grand Hunters and their extended packs. The grey-furred male nodded.
“Those have been eliminated or subsumed.”
Willin frowned, parsing the documents again. Mi’low, Toril, and a few others were designated as such. Looking through, only about four seemed to be free of the distinction. He looked questioningly to the male, a grin returned with a separate stack of paper, titled with a single name.
Hasen.
The notation was rather dense, though not in information that Willin was expecting. Instead of settlements or High and Low Hunters, it was laden with mentions of those belonging to the previously marked Grand Hunters. His eyes widened as he connected the dots.
“Hasen is trying to be a Master Hunter.”
“Correct,” the male confirmed cheerily. “He is integrating other packs into his command and eliminating those who refuse. It has become quite an issue as of late.”
Though Grand Hunters could be assigned the moniker by owning territory and a willing pack—assuming they have the force required to defend it—a Master Hunter must own magnitudes more. It was typically achieved by integrating Grand Hunter packs and their subservients through mutual benefit, but taking it by force was a lesser used method.
Given that he had already either taken or purged several, it wouldn’t be a stretch of the imagination to assume he would press it to include here.
Willin heard Tech curse under her breath, their promise of sovereignty obligating them to interfere. To allow a member of the military—stranded or not—free action against the grey-furred male’s territory would be the same as endorsing it, now that they were aware. It would be hostility by the UM in all but name, and the consequences that had seemed somewhat extreme before now hung over their heads like an executioner’s axe.
A dark, deep chuckle broke the two of them out of thought. “Contracts, new ones,” the Grand Hunter started, a cold Void pooling in his eyes, “are not to be thought trivial. Do not break them.”
“It was a trap,” Tech snarled, jabbing a claw at the report in her paw. “You set us up.”
“Did I?” the male asked innocently. “You offered self-governance, non-interference, and non-aggression.”
“You withheld information!”
The Grand Hunter smiled, a shiver sent down Willin’s spine. “You agreed without doing proper research.”
Willin held a paw out to stop Tech from storming the male. “The contract is signed, Tech.”
“It’s invalid!” she snarled at him, receiving a cold look in return.
“Do you want to be the one to tell command that we allowed damn near genocide of a crew we were here to assist, just because we were too stubborn to adhere to an agreement?” he countered calmly. “This ‘Hasen’ is wiping almost a year's worth of survival, botanical, and every other specialized knowledge gained, just because he wants to control a section of a planet. This doesn’t change anything, it just means we know what we’re going into.”
“I like him,” the Grand Hunter opined with a grin. “He sees the value that my proposition offers.”
“What’s stopping us from just tearing up the contract right now and leaving you to your fate?” Tech barked.
“Your companions in your craft—quite the ship, might I add—would be a notable starting point.”
The two of them paused, eyes widened. The dark grey-furred male laughed again.
“Your proximity sensor has been reporting since you landed, no?” he asked, pointing to the equipment on Tech’s harness. “It must have been rather vexing, yes? Is it the warp-spike? Is it some army of the unknown? The uncertainty of never confirming what it tells you. The whispers of doubt that follow.”
“I’m surprised you recognized what it was,” Willin replied with a level tone. He didn’t like where this was going. The male offered a smile.
“Wildlife here is especially elusive. Skittish. Ceasing all motion while predators are near and silencing themselves.” Tech and Willin exchanged a glance as the male waved a paw dismissively. “It makes for rather intensive training for my Blades. To hunt without disturbing them. My kit was a natural in such regard, but others have slowly approached such a threshold.”
He folded his paws on the desk. “Your ship is currently being observed by them now, weaponry trained on the defences you thought so adequate. Surely you noticed the lack of guns, yes?”
“The distress message mentioned the lack of them was due to how urgent evacuation was,” Willin added cautiously.
“Yes, quite. I made sure to lock the armouries after taking enough to establish my power,” the male confirmed with a half-shrug. “Among those were rifles not dissimilar to the rifle that the purple one there brought with her.” He leaned back in his chair. “Sufficient to pierce the hull and whoever occupies the space behind it, no?”
Tech’s eyes unfocused, snapping to Willin with a fear behind them. The Grand Hunter spun his quill, unconcerned by the events.
“Your short-wave has been temporarily disabled. You can not warn them.”
“Threatening us to compliance?” Willin asked without emotion to his tone. He needed to keep things from escalating.
“Ensuring you understand the consequences of your actions,” the male replied plainly. “When one barters with Avalon, know that breaching such is grounds for death. Of you, and whoever I need to send with you.”
“They didn’t sign this,” Tech argued, kept in line by Willin’s demeanour.
“But you did,” the Grand Hunter returned coldly. “Honour your signature, or regret such in the Void.”
Tech took an enraged step forward, stopped when her throat pressed against a dagger that was slipped in from behind. Willin felt the pressure of a knife to his own.
“Patience, new ones.”
“You took advantage of the interference to sneak assassins into the room?” Willin noted.
“No, my Blades were always here,” the male refuted lazily, nodding at Tech. “She noticed, but was unable to trust what her equipment told her.” He chortled for a moment. “Quite the annoyance, proximity sensors. I feel rather blessed to have the warp-spike rendering them little more than meaningless noise.”
“So this is it? You kill us now, our friends when they refuse to cooperate, then steal what we brought?”
The pressure on his neck faded with a wave of the male’s paw, the assassins being nowhere to be seen.
“Of course not!” the Grand Hunter exclaimed, his voice returning to its affable cadence. “You now know how futile it is to go against me. Fear not, I see no merit in hindering you. As long as you honour your portion of the contract, I will honour mine. It is a certainty that Avalon was founded on.”
Tech rubbed her neck, glancing questioningly at Willin. He gave the male a wary glance, but closed his eyes to concede. They were just going to get everyone killed if they tried to back out of something they had already agreed to.
“Then we have come to an understanding,” the dark grey-furred male announced happily. “As a show of faith, do you have any questions where I might provide clarity?”
The two soldiers glanced at each other, Tech begrudgingly giving Willin the floor. He gestured to the smallest stack of papers. “Who is this? There’s next to nothing about him. Are you withholding information against your contract?”
The Grand Hunter smirked. “That, new ones, is all I could gather from my Blades.”
“You have Lilhuns disappearing in the room a moment after holding a knife to our throats, and they couldn’t scout a settlement?”
“Isn’t it interesting?”
“Enthralling,” Tech commented dryly. The male tapped a claw against his head.
“Think, new ones. What might render my Blades little more than a mild inconvenience?”
Willin’s eyes narrowed. “Other Blades? Better Blades?”
The dark grey-furred male held an expectant smile. “None have been seen, save for my kit.”
“Your kit’s mate is the Grand Hunter? I don’t see one Blade deterring this many,” he admitted, flicking through the pages. Overt, covert, and disguised. None got very far.
“Thus why I believe the male is owed a favour,” the Grand Hunter explained. “I gave them four Blades as a gift. They have become more.” A predatory look of elation cracked through the veneer. “There exists no better Sheath than a Blademaster. Let alone one who surpasses my methods. If she is to succeed me, I would rather no other to accompany her.”
“Says here that he’s an alien,” Willin noted aloud, trying not to voice his surprise. “I’m skeptical.”
“Oh, please do be. It will make hearing about what he asks of you that much more amusing.”
“Any ideas what he might look for from us?” Tech spat, still irritated.
“Oh, I might have an idea,” the male answered cryptically, sliding a small tablet of silver wood across the desk. Willin picked it up to inspect it, two foreign scripts scratched into the surface. With a questioning glance, the Grand Hunter nodded, Willin stashing the tablet into a pouch. “He seeks that which others might not, for reasons as foreign as he himself is. I have little doubt that something related to that trinket will be his wish.”
“Then why visit him last?” the purple-furred female pressed.
“Because it will influence his decision.”
“Which is enough reason for us,” Willin declared with a warning scowl at Tech. She held his gaze before looking away in annoyance.
“Then our meeting is finished,” the male announced, gesturing to the door. It opened, the whirring of servos giving way to the distant ambient chatter of the hallway. Two of the black leather-clad escorts entered the room and awaited them.
“Is there anything we should know that may have not made it to the report about him?” Willin asked before leaving, turning naught but an ear for the response.
The Grand Hunter hummed for a moment. “Do mind your manners surrounding his kit,” he offered. “Or do not, it matters little to me if you survive past honouring the agreement.”
Tech stopped at the doorway, glaring at the male as Willin exited. “We never did get your name.”
His brows raised in interest. “You saw my signature.”
“I would rather hear it from you,” she insisted coolly.
A toothy smile spread over the male’s muzzle. “Grand Hunter Trill; Blademaster of Avalon, Sire of Phantom, and—if I remember correctly—the Weighted Scale, Aspect of Balance.”
“’May he who barter with the Void fear its ire,’” she recited, conviction in her words.
“’Yet he who uphold bathes in its blessing,’ yes,” Grand Hunter Trill replied with a knowing look. “Consider it, new one. To be crushed under the obligations you fail to upkeep, or revel in that which you covet. Do be warned; though I let you and your party leave—” his eye gained a sharp edge. “You are never beyond my influence.”
“May the sun treat you well, Grand Hunter,” she replied tersely, spinning on her pad to leave. Willin glanced back as he waited for her to pass him, seeing nothing but the door closing behind her.
Their weapons were returned, each in the same state as they were confiscated, save for a familiar knife. He scowled as he shifted his footing to reveal that the comforting weight had been removed from his boot. He begrudgingly accepted the blade, tucking it back into the sheath as the Lilhun smirked at him, his mirth at the dark green-furred male’s displeasure evident.
They were escorted out of the shuttle, a pause afforded long enough for Willin to flick up his hood before they continued to the outermost edge of the settlement. As soon as they were outside of the fence, their escorts turned and quickly faded into the buildings.
A crackle came over the headset.
“Leader! Tech! We thought something may have happened,” Comms shouted into the earpiece, genuine worry coating his words.
“Were you unsuccessful?” Nav added, the sound of a small distance between speaker and microphone suggesting they were sharing.
Willin adjusted the strap of his rifle and started walking, Tech following after a lingering glance at the settlement. “We got what we came for, but it might have cost us.”
“It was simply a meeting, no?” Comms asked to clarify.
“If you can call being strung along by an Aspect ‘simple,’ then yes,” Tech growled.
“Aspect?”
“Balance,” Willin provided through a sigh. “Weighted Scale.”
“Receive your heart’s desire at a heavy sacrifice,” Nav commented after a moment, likely referencing something. “What did you give them?”
“Sovereignty and a favour to be paid out to another Grand Hunter.”
“That does not seem too unreasonable,” Comms voiced curiously.
“We’ll talk about it when we get back. I have a feeling that the hole was dug too deep to see the bottom quite yet.”
“There’s a battle brewing,” Tech notified the crew, adjusting her audio interface. For once, it was completely silent. “We got dragged into it.”
The short-wave fell silent.
“What do we do?” Comms questioned quietly, the crackle of the distortion pitching his voice slightly.
Willin snorted, exhaling slowly.
“We made a deal with Avalon, Comms. We honour the contract.”
Next
A/N: Folded and made a Patreon. You can do the thing there, but i don't have anything to offer. Gonna move the rare AI Gen character art to it though, since it's the best i can offer.

"You lose."
"Shut up."
"Please, gentlemen. Let's play like honorable fellows."
The bustle of the small but well-attended parlor was repeatedly interrupted by the rumbling voice of a man at the card table. He drank from his tankard in great gulps and then wiped foam from his huge red beard. The cards almost disappeared in his huge paws and his face looked as if it had been hewn from an erratic block. The other gentlemen at the table seemed more well-groomed; the man with finely cut features and in the well-fitting suit was sipping his glass and seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. The third man at the table was visibly nervous; he kept eyeing his opponents while restlessly moving the cards in his hands. His pale skin and ice-blue eyes made an unpleasantly cold impression.
A fourth man stepped up to the table. "Can you still get into the game?"
The red-haired giant eyed the man. Tall and slender, the plainly dressed newcomer seemed to make an ambiguous impression. For although he smiled, his eyes remained cold and calculating.
"Please, sit down," the man in the suit replied. He mirrored the newcomer: even smiling, his eyes remained cold and hard. "My brother is quite suspicious. Probably because he wants to keep up the impression that he's good at cards, to people who don't know him." The giant snorted. "You'd better say that..."-he threw his cards face up on the table-"...before I defeat you."
The suit leaned forward with interest. "Truly, you still manage to surprise me. Unfortunately..."-he now also laid his cards face up on the table-"...only with your stupidity." The giant stood up with a jerk. "P-p-please, gentlemen," stammered the third. "N-n-no need to spoil this fine e-e-evening."
The giant sparkled at the men at the table one after the other. Finally, he sat down again and smiled. So mischievous, it could send a chill down your spine. "Of course. Because my dear brother is cheating again." The suit paused, glass to his lips.
"My best, do you think that after all this time I don't know your tricks by now?" The gentleman addressed set down the glass. He smoothed his suit.
"Even if you're a god, at some point you run out of ideas. Then you get... sucked dry."
The two men eyed each other like wolves.
After a while, the suit shook his head. "What my dear brother meant to express this way, without any eloquence, is that eventually you become predictable." He glanced at the newcomer. "Isn't that right, Hades?"
All at once, silence fell in the parlor. The guests set down their tankards and looked toward the gaming table. The waiters slowly backed away from the group of four.
The god of the dead smiled undiminished. He placed his hands on the table and watched as the pub resumed business, albeit a bit more subdued now. "Well, I thought I could stay undetected a little longer. What gave me away?"
"You can't mask the stench of the dead," the suit hissed. "You should know all about it," Hades replied impassively. "You two have filled my kingdom well, haven't you?"
The brothers exchanged a glance.
"I've heard a lot about you guys. The eel-smooth and the lout. The brothers of terror. The god of mischief and the god of thunder. Loki and Thor."
The parlor fell silent once more. Now everyone turned to the table. For although the tavern sometimes entertained unusual guests, such high attendance was rare. Moreover, the gods of the Northmen were especially feared.
Hades turned to the man on his right, who had almost disappeared under the table. "And, what is your name, my best?"
The man sat back down in his chair and cleared his throat. "P-p-people call me A-a-aquilon."
Thor began to laugh uproariously. "Truly, a great troop," he roared. "Thunder, Mischief, Death, and Northwind sitting at the same table, thrashing cards!" Loki joined in the laughter. The other two just sat there; Hades quiet, Aquilo trembling.
When the brothers stopped laughing, Hades intertwined his fingers and said, "Strictly speaking, I'm just the ruler of the dead. Thanatos is not as sociable as I am."
Loki picked up his glass again and pointed it in the direction of the God of the Dead. "I'd say he's quite affable, especially if you hide his little sickle for fun." Hades smiled coldly. "Oh, I can remember, god of "mischief." Human civilization almost broke apart."
"Oh, what do you care about people," Thor rumbled, finishing his tankard in one gulp. "More beer!"
"Yeah, what do we care about humans," Hades muttered half aloud. Loki gave him an amused look. Hades did not dignify him with one. He knew that behind the fine clothes and finely honed speech hid a monster, that it was as cruel as it was cowardly.
Hades pulled a deck of cards from one of his pockets. "I think with these cards we'd have a good chance of playing a fair game. Interested?" Loki leaned forward. "Ah. This could be fun. Where did you dig these up?" Hades placed the stack in the center of the table. "All our power is scattered all over the world," he replied. "You just have to do some searching."
The hours dragged on. The gods took turns with the victories, without anyone being able to defend his previous victory. As time passed, the gods grew more and more discouraged; Thor's hand clenched into a fist. The smile of Loki turned sour. Only Hades seemed to be in good spirits and drank wine by the glassful. Finally, Thor thundered his fist on the table and boomed, "This is bullshit!"
"No, these are the playing cards of Nike," Hades replied impassively. He sorted his cards without haste. "As the goddess of victory, fairness was very important to her. Victoria, on the other hand..."-he turned to the pale Aquilon-"...never paid attention. Only victory against the enemies of Rome counted for her; how, she didn't care." Loki raised an eyebrow. "It sounds like you disagree," he interjected into the lecture. Hades shrugged his shoulders. "I am not the god of war. I only judge its sacrifices." "And dead gods," Thor growled. His hand clenched around the tankard and with a crash it shattered. The entire tavern flinched.
Only Hades smiled at the giant opposite him. "Yes, also fallen gods. You should know that Odin is not in Valhalla. Nor in Elysium. No, he is hauling a mountain in the fields of perdition. On a field from which the arrowheads sprout like the grass after the first spring rains."
Thor jumped up. His chair crashed to the floor and a scream went through the room. The Thunder God's tangled red hair seemed to stick out from his head like wires. "Don't you dare to mock Father!" he thundered. With his right hand, he reached behind his black cloak. Everyone held their breath. The moment seemed to stretch into infinity.
"Save the theatrics, brother," Loki sighed suddenly. Everyone stared at him, aghast. The god of mischief put his feet up on the table. "Everyone knows that your oh-so-precious hammer is now under a lot of stone. Now somebody pick up the north wind."
Hades got up and put Aquilon back on his chair. After a few pats, he opened his eyes again. "Oh, my goodness," Loki muttered, rolling his eyes. "Tell me, North Wind: why are you here?" Aquilon sat up straight and did not answer. With an uncertain look, he tippled at his beer and seemed to have his mind elsewhere.
Hades sat down again. Thor also took his seat again, while he growled some crude curses into his beard. Hades now also put his feet on the table and leaned back.
"Forgive me for the grand entrance. But I thought you should experience it for yourselves one day: What would have happened in the old days?"
Thor contorted his face into a fearsome grimace. "Then I would have reduced you to a charred stain."
The God of the Dead pointed at him with his glass. "That's right. But now Mjölnir lies under one of the greatest temples of the Abrahamites."
"The Christians?" asked Auqilon suddenly. He seemed to have emerged from his thoughts and looked at Hades with those strange ice-blue eyes.
Hades waved it off. "Christians, Jews, Muslims. All the same. But they are two billion people. Two. Billions. Their God has so much power that it would be enough to draw his attention to us to erase us from existence. Look at us. Hiding in little nooks and crannies so as not to be found. Beat eternity to death. But we were once the rulers of this world. And woe to those who did not revere and fear us!"
Loki turned one of the cards from Nike's deck between his fingers. "So, what, if one may inquire, are you up to now?" he asked, amused.
Hades was now smiling as slyly as the God of Thunder. "We will remind the people what they once feared us for."
Loki laughed uproariously. "The God of the Dead has a surprising sense of humor." He tossed the card on the table and tapped it with his index finger. "The Avenger. Strange that I should have drawn that very card from this deck. You're not an avenger. At the very highest, the one who picks up the leftovers after revenge is done."
Hades shook his head. "You'd better stick to joking around. You're no good as a soothsayer." Loki's smile froze. "The red-haired force of nature to your left is one."
Everyone turned to the thunder god, who, however, was very busy with his beer mug. He set it down and belched thunderously. "What is it?"
Hades rolled his eyes. "Oh, what the hell."
He pulled a bag from behind his chair. With a flourish, he tossed it to Thor.
"I know your hammer is your very favorite treasure, but the lightning bolts suit you."
Thor opened the bag and as he peered inside, his grin grew wild.
"I suggest you get your hammer back first. Leave a lasting impression. Then we'll get to work."