[https://i.imgur.com/KO24wui.jpg]

It was, mechanically speaking, impossible for a dwarf rogue to kill an ogre. Ask any calculator and after they finished laughing they'd tell you it couldn't be done. They'd say that the numbers simply didn't add up, that an unpromoted rogue was a low-tier class at best, and that a dwarf rogue made no sense whatsoever. They would inform you, clearly and precisely, that the result of a dwarf rogue going up against an ogre would be nothing more than a red smear upon the ground. Against an ogre, the calculator might restate, the desire for accuracy spurring their emphasis, a dwarf rogue had absolutely no chance whatsoever.

Here's how it would go, the calculator would tell you. Assume the rogue is able to break line of sight. Assume they're able to stealth and then backstab. The dwarf rogue's low movement coupled with the ogre's reach bonus means that after that first free hit there's no way the rogue can get to cover again before they're splatted, and just one hit from the ogre is going to do exactly that. Even if somehow, miraculously, the dwarf rogue manages to find cover and break line of sight and enter stealth and backstab again, they'd have to do this at least sixty-seven times in order to even put the ogre into critical condition.

So no. Couldn't happen. Red smear. Nothing but.

Nevertheless, here an ogre lay, quite clearly dead, and there a dwarf rogue stood, quite clearly not a red smear. Unharmed, in fact. Her clothes were a little on the ragged side and she was rather grubby (three weeks in a prison train will do that to a person), but as for actual injuries? There wasn't a scratch on her.

Of course she wasn't alone, but her companion seemed more of a handicap than any kind of advantage. He was even shorter than the dwarf and far less broad, knobbly and weedy and awkward, limbs too long, feet too big, skin considerably greener than was generally deemed socially acceptable, large amber eyes fearful and suspicious, pointy little teeth the clear sign of a monster. No, putting a goblin with the dwarf shouldn't have influenced things one little bit—the only change to the outcome, any reputable calculator could tell you, would be two red smears.

And yet there the ogre lay, still rather dead, and there the dwarf rogue stood, still not a red smear, the odd little goblin thing now gently holding her sleeve.

It took some time for the arena to be opened and for the two of them to be discovered. This manner of trial was not uncommon—when faced with a choice between hard labour in the adamantine mines or trial by ogre many chose the ogre, which said something about the unpleasantness of the mines—but what WAS uncommon, what was almost unheard of, was anyone actually winning. In fact, out of the last two thousand and seventy three trials, two thousand and seventy two of them had ended in the aforementioned 'red smear' scenario.

The two thousand and seventy third trial, the one that had ended with a dead ogre and a very much alive dwarf rogue, was Nala Greyward's. Her goblin companion's name was Tzugakk. Nala was a casteless thief from the city of Sontra, arrested for the crime of Resisting Arrest. Tzugakk was little more than a goblin, previously living in a nameless bit of forest until he'd been arrested for the crime of Being A Goblin. Neither of them appeared exceptional in any way shape or form, and thus those in charge of their judgement were faced with a problem; what to do with this ogre-slaying dwarf? What to do with the ugly little goblin that clung to her like a bad smell? The traditional option was to issue an invitation to Bright Battle, but that was back when the academy actually needed new entrants. On the other hand it would be an elegant solution to a thorny problem. Bright Battle Academy, after all, was famously effective at advancing the strong and destroying the weak...

[https://i.imgur.com/LFXgOps.jpg]

The entrance hall was wide and shallow and packed. One wall was made up of portal gates, as varied in design as they were consistent in function: the gate to The Forest was formed of living trees, coaxed into forming a vague circle and bound with softly glowing vines; the gate to Auldvyne was heavy and gothic, deeply suspicious purple-black energy crawling upon its cracked obsidian surface; the gate to Nimbus was formed of clouds made solid, glowing with rainbow energy; the Blue Field gate was exceptionally ordinary, a simple white marble oval, functionally dull. There were other gates as well, smaller gates, shabbier gates, but nobody paid much attention to those. Not even when a dwarf rogue stumbled through one of them, torn cloak fluttering around her, iron knife clutched tight.r name was Nala Greyward, and she was the second to arrive through that particular gate that day; the second to arrive through THAT particular gate in more than four years.

Nala raised her head, took in the dozens of heavily-armed people around her, then turned to scramble back towards the portal gate. It was an odd-looking thing, mostly square, made of old wooden planks nailed haphazardly together with big chunky nails, but the portal glow was as bright as any. Still, though the glow gave beneath her hand it soon pushed back, the message of its magic-slippery surface clear: ONE WAY ONLY.

Nala stood back and winced; there was a prickling against the back of her left hand. As she scratched at it an intricate tattoo appeared, a spined, curling circle of glowing white. Nala stared at this then looked around again, at the people in the room, many of them carrying big swords or big axes or weapons that could otherwise be described as 'big'. All of them were coming from the portal gates and heading towards the other side of the room, where dozens of booths stood beside arched passages, each of the booths manned by an official-looking person with a blue-and-gold cap and a blue-and-gold uniform and a blue-and-gold stone tablet. It was beside one of these booths that Nala caught sight of familiar pointed green ears and dark brown furs, and she hurried forward to catch up to her goblin companion—

"Whoa, what the hell? Default equipment, are you kidding me?"

Nala spun to face the girl who'd spoken—she was human, some kind of fighter wearing half-plate armour, a shining sword in her hand.

"Easy merits straight out the gate!"

Nala ducked back then dashed between two elves, bumped up against a half-orc's back then made for the nearest portal gate, a marble oval. Unsurprisingly this one reacted the same as the portal she'd arrived through; yielded a little beneath her hands then pushed back hard. Nala spun to see the fighter closing on her, sword raised to strike—

"Huh?" the fighter said, tugging at her sword, trying to complete the action, but it was as if a giant invisible hand held the weapon in place. "What the hell?"

A nearby halfling laughed, his voice high and merry as he mocked the fighter:

"You bonehead, you can't attack here! What, you never heard of a safe zone? Can't fight until you're in the REAL academy! Hahahaha, how did you not know that? Seriously, get a clue or something!"

The fighter grumbled and huffed as she lowered her sword, before pointing it at Nala.

"Other side, dirteater," she growled, before smirking. "Catch you later."

With that she rested her sword over her shoulder and stomped away, heading towards one of the booths.

"I wouldn't trust you to catch a cold!" the halfling yelled after the fighter, before grinning at Nala. "Seriously though, she had a point. Default equipment? Sorry, but if I see you like that out of a safe zone I'm totally taking you down. Merits are merits, right? Can't give you a pass just because you're a fellow shorty!"

The halfling threw Nala a cheeky salute then bounded off towards a free booth, bags bouncing at his sides. Nala followed, splitting off towards another booth—there was no sign of Tzugakk now but the booths were clearly the only way out of this place. The gangly, sandy-haired human inside rolled his eyes as Nala approached.

"Oh my gods, what are you supposed to be? No, don't tell me, 'rogue', is it. Well marvellous." The human was looking down at something Nala couldn't see; whatever it was it seemed to offend him. "Obstinate Neutral Dwarf Rogue? Yes, what an absolute boon to the academy you'll be. Do you have a ticket?"

Nala blinked at the human. He leant forward, speaking slowly and loudly:

"DO. YOU. HAVE. A. TICKET?"

"...no?"

"No, of course you don't—through the portal then, mind you don't trip and fall and die and do us all a favour. Next! Come on now, chop chop chop!"

Past the booth and at the end of the arched passage was a wall of light, its glow enveloping Nala. Soft wind blew against her face and she blinked against sudden brightness, the sky above deep blue, what few clouds that dared sully its brilliance small and pure white. To her right there was a grey stone wall, old but solid, a few brave tufts of moss growing from small cracks. It was far too high and smooth to even think about climbing. Beneath her feet was a paved road, made of the same smooth grey stone as the walls—there was another far to the left, past the crowds of people streaming from the massive gates, huge high metal doors open to the white glow of a portal. One way street, no path but forward—except there was something, a gap in the wall ahead of Nala leading to downward stairs, and it was here that she ran, down a few steps to push herself against the coolness of the stone wall, draw the hood of her cloak over her head, and fade into the shadows.

Here she crouched, still and silent, hidden from all those who passed—and those who stopped to talk:

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"Phew, wow, I did NOT expect so many people! This is still a safe zone, right? Otherwise everyone'd be attacking everyone—"

"That's why we've got to recruit some more guys, no way I'm gonna risk soloing—did you see that guy with the axes? You just know he's gonna camp the main square, pick off all the weaklings. Going out alone'd be suicide."

"So we've got to get a healer, right? And you said about maybe some kind of magic user for balance—we'd better hurry, looks like people are already partying up..."

The voices faded as the pair moved off, though they were soon replaced by others:

"WOOOOOO YEAH! Bright Battle, man, Bright Battle! Can you believe we're finally here? Man, I can't even believe it, are you seeing this place? Whoa, check out that chick, is that a half-orc? Dudes, there is a half-orc chick standing like JUST THERE, damn this place is wild! Okay though, okay okay, everyone's here, right? Okay, let's do this thing, back of the hand, man this is cool..."

There was a pause, and a faint jangly kind of tune, then:

"WOOOOO! Party time! Okay, I'll do the rest of you guys—"

"That's what HE said!"

"Hahahaha shut up! Shut up you guys, come on—let's get going towards the square that dude was talking about, I'll do you on the way—"

"He said THAT too!"

"Haha shut up! Man I can't WAIT to get ranked, this is gonna be, like, the BEST. Hey, you think they've got any, like, demon chicks here? Damn but that'd be wicked! Hey, what're those stairs? Is that like a dungeon or something?"

"Nah, that dude said about it, remember? He said it's like where they dump all the loose monsters."

"Loose monsters, coooool! We should TOTALLY check that out!"

"Nah man—come on, focus! This isn't like going through Moss Pile or Pure Glade, this is the real deal here! First we gotta get ranked, then we gotta get our digs, THEN we can start thinking about loose monsters."

"That's what he said!"

"You guuuuys~"

Nala was already at the bottom of the stairs, sheer stone walls rising on either side. There was a wooden door, already open, leading to a long stone room, lit by dimly glowing crystals. Against one wall were wooden benches, against the other were cell-like cages. In the far wall were large double doors, firmly closed, and beside these, seated at the very end of the very last bench seat, was a girl. She was tall but slumped, straggly hair hanging down to hide her face, arms wrapped in bandages, clothing old and ragged and dark.

"Nala!"

Nala turned to see her goblin companion scurrying towards her, relief on his odd little face.

"Tzugakk," she said. "What is this place?"

"I don't know! I was pushed through the portal then pushed through another portal and then I was here, and now you are here. I thought that killing the ogre was enough, is this another part of the trial? When does it end! Do you have this on your hand? What is this?"

Tzugakk held up his big hand, displaying a circular tattoo identical to Nala's.

"'BrightCircle', the man said," Tzugakk muttered, scratching at the glowing tattoo. "'Safehold shard' that cannot be lost, this is like a curse!"

"Safehold shard," Nala repeated. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a rough blue-green crystal, which she threw across the room. It bounced off a wall and across the floor, then its light faded. Glumly, Nala reached into her pocket again and produced the same crystal, still with that same blue-green glow.

"They did not lie," she said. "Safehold shards cannot be lost or discarded."

"They said, 'take this'," Tzugakk was muttering, "they said, 'walk there', they said, 'there will be light' and there was—Nala, what do we do?"

Nala was silent, gazing at the girl sitting in the corner. She hadn't moved, not at all.

"Monsters," Nala murmured. She looked at Tzugakk. "I heard others talk of recruiting. Can we do that? 'Back of the hand'."

Tzugakk held up his left hand, frowning as he examined it—then he flinched as Nala took his wrist and pressed the back of her own hand firmly against his. There was a glow from their BrightCircles, and a jangly little tune.

"Is that recruiting?" Nala looked at her hand, her BrightCircle still glowing. "We must find others—that girl. She is a monster?"

Tzugakk tore his gaze away from his own BrightCircle to shake his head at Nala. "Zombie yes, but not a monster, no no. She is lost, not empty. She could be useful!" Tzugakk continued to talk as he followed Nala towards the girl: "There were many zombies in my forest, monster zombies, hollow zombies, adventurers ignored them! Why? Too much work, takes too long to kill, good defence but so slow. Running is easy, from a zombie."

The girl didn't react until Nala and Tzugakk were standing near, and then it was only a twitch of her hand and a low, rattling moan. Up close her undead status was more obvious; her skin was blue, and though only her right eye could be seen through her tangled dark hair, it had a dullness to it that spoke more of death than life.

"Hello," Nala said. "Can you talk?"

The zombie girl moaned again, longer this time, and louder.

"Can you speak words?"

"...haaaaaard..."

"Can you look at me? Can you see me?"

The girl's hand twitched, then she made an odd rocking movement that brought her head up, hair shifting to reveal an expressionless face, her eyes sunken and dull, her nose strong and straight, her mouth thin but with an attractive quirk to it. In life, the girl had been pretty.

Slowly the zombie girl's expression changed, a subtle frown on her face as she focused on Nala.

"...smaaaaaall..."

Nala glanced at Tzugakk, who shrugged, then looked back at the girl.

"Do you have a name?"

"...naaaaaame ... aaaa ... aaaa..."

Something changed in the girl, then. Some small spark came into her dead eyes, some measure of deliberation came into her movements as she raised her head, brow creased. When she spoke again it was less rattling, less groaning:

"Aaaamaaandaaa? Aaaamaaandaaa. Amaaandaaa ... Willooow?"

There was a shockingly loud bang and a gust of air as the double doors slammed open. Three tall slim pale impeccably dressed vampire girls swept into the room, dashing Nala and Tzugakk aside as they clustered around Amanda and began loudly discussing her flaws:

"Is this it? What a wreck. It looks like it's been rolling in mud, do we really need that cluttering up the place?"

"Oh, that hair, beside EVERYthing else it's just so clichéd, 'wretchedly long tragically unwashed hair covering her face, nothing showing but a single baleful eye', ugh, you just KNOW she's going to be the shrinking violet type—no offence, Violet dear."

"Absolutely none taken," said the tallest of the vampire girls; Violet, "I know exactly what you're talking about—oh my gods, oh my many gods, the way she's looking at us, she's not intelligent, is she?" Violet's flawlessly made-up face twisted into an expression of attractively practised distaste. "There must have been a necromancer among the new entrants, how perfectly horrid."

"Mm, certainly not a desirable quality, the possibility of furniture talking back is disgusting," said the second-tallest of the girls, before flipping her long blonde hair and turning to the shortest of their trio—who still towered over Nala and Tzugakk. "I suppose I must ask—Priscilla, what class is she?"

"You won't like it," said the shortest girl; Priscilla. "She's a glumgirl."

"Oh dear goodness," cried Violet, delightfully horrified. "Nothing but a meat shield! The most useless of all zombie classes and that IS saying something."

"I suppose Storm might be able to use her as a training dummy," said the second-tallest girl, regarding Amanda with thoughtfully judging eyes. "Storm dear, what do you think?"

Leaning against the wall was a young man, just as pale as the girls and even taller, wearing a black leather jacket worn open to show off his impeccable abs. Further than that he was difficult to describe, the eyes naturally went to the perfection of his exposed abdomen and there they stayed. He took in a long, weary breath, blew it out through his nose, ran a hand through his hair then crossed his arms.

"Whatever," he breathed.

"I guess we do have to take her, anyway," Priscilla said. "We've got a responsibility."

"Oh, I know, I know," Violet said. "One must be gracious to those less fortunate—"

"Y-you cannot."

The second-tallest girl raised her head, a confused look upon her face.

"Did something just squeak?" she asked.

"She is not 'furniture'," Tzugakk pressed on. "She is not a 'training dummy'."

"What IS that?" Violet asked, staring down at Tzugakk with an expression of horrified curiosity. "Storm, step on it, it's looking at me funny."

"Come come, Violet! Surely you recognise a goblin when you see one?" said the second-tallest girl, after a mere glance at Tzugakk. "We had that infestation last summer, you remember?"

"Oh of course," Violet said, looking away from Tzugakk now. "Yes, yes, yes, perhaps I simply blocked out the memory as being too horrible to retain—do you know, this is just exactly what I was saying to you earlier, Amity my darling, the standards for admission into this academy are quite simply slipping. It used to be we had a higher class of new entrants even among the low-tiers—I blame these 'safehold shard' things, it just makes it too easy on them."

"I entirely agree," said the second-tallest girl; Amity. "Without the possibility of death—"

There was a jangly little tune from somewhere close, and a glow from the back of Amanda's hand; her BrightCircle was clearly visible.

"That's peculiar," Violet said. "Pris, what's going on there?"

"I'm ... not sure? That was the 'you just got a new party member!' jingle, but there's no one—"

"You cannot take this girl," came Nala's voice, before she appeared beside Amanda. "I have already recruited her."

The vampires all stared down at Nala as she stared resolutely up at them.

The tension was broken by Violet's high, superior laughter.

"I suppose I should thank you for taking it off our hands—but I won't. There's no point, it's not like any of you will be around long enough to make remembering so much as your names worthwhile."

With that the vampires swept away, without a glance back—except once, a scathing look from Violet directed at Nala that said 'I may not know your petty little name but I WILL remember your ugly little face'.

Then they were gone, and Tzugakk breathed out in relief.

"Foolish," he muttered. "Reckless. I should not have spoken—"

"No. You should not have." Nala was looking down at Amanda. "Can you walk?"

Amanda gave no response, not so much as a twitch.

Nala reached out to take the girl's cold, bandaged arm in her hand.

"Stand," she said. "And follow. If we are attacked, protect us."

"...proooteeect..."

"Good." Nala glanced at Tzugakk as they walked towards the stairs. "We need to find others, as many as we can recruit. I don't know what this place is. I do understand that it is dangerous."

Above, once they'd managed to help Amanda negotiate the stairs, the wide street was noticeably lacking in potential party members; the great doors were shut and the street was empty.

"No one is here," Tzugakk said. "Bad if we need to find others, but good if there is no one to attack us!"

"Safe zone," Nala muttered. "They formed parties, then moved on. We're too late."

The street was long, but at its end Nala could see four giant stone sentinels guarding a wide arch—one brandishing a sword, another wielding a staff, the third a robed figure with an orb cradled in its hands, the fourth cloaked and hooded, clutching a bladeless hilt. Beyond the arch there seemed to be a wide square surrounded by yellow stone buildings all crowded together—perhaps a city.

But this is not a city, Nala thought. It is an academy. Bright Battle, the noisy ones had said. They were excited to be here.

"Nala?"

Nala gazed at the statues as she spoke:

"There is only one direction. Forward."