The morning air was crisp and cold, the fog still clinging low to the ground as the campfire crackled softly. None of us were in much of a hurry to move, not after the day we’d had. I sat by the dying embers, poking at the charred wood with a stick, my thoughts drifting. The swamp’s oppressive energy was gone, but there was still a weight in the air around our group. It wasn’t the swamp anymore—it was us.
The silence lingered, stretching uncomfortably, until Garvin finally broke it. His voice was steady, confident, but there was something deliberate about it. Like he’d been waiting for the right moment to say what was on his mind.
"If we’re going to work together," he started, sitting forward with his arms resting on his knees, "then we need to trust each other. No half-truths. No holding back. When push comes to shove, our lives are in each other’s hands. That means we can’t afford to have any doubts about one another."
I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the campfire. Drea was sharpening her axe, her movements slower than usual as she listened. Malric leaned against a tree nearby, his bow balanced across his lap, his expression unreadable as always. They weren’t speaking, but they were listening. This wasn’t just Garvin talking—this was all of them.
Garvin leaned forward, his tone softening just slightly. "Sigvard, we’ve seen what you can do. You’ve helped us survive. Even knowing we’d have questions about you—hell, knowing we might turn on you if we didn’t like the answers—you still put yourself on the line. You’re a corrupted outlander, yeah, but you’re also one of us now. And I think it’s time we let the corruption go."
I blinked, unsure if I’d heard him right. "Let it go?"
He nodded. "Keep your secret. We won’t tell anyone. We’ll keep this between us. And honestly, your powers might end up being the thing that pushes us over the edge on some really good quests. Major experience. Bigger paydays. We’re a team, and if we’re going to keep being a team, we need to trust each other completely. No doubts. No second-guessing."
I glanced around the fire again. Drea was still sharpening her axe, but her eyes flicked toward me, her expression softer than it had been the night before. Malric was as stoic as ever, but there was no hostility in his gaze, no tension in his posture.
Garvin sat back, crossing his arms. "Here’s my offer. I’ll show you my character sheet. Everything. Full transparency. But in return, I want to see yours."
My stomach tightened at the thought. Letting them see my full sheet would mean showing them everything. The Shadow class. The corruption. The abilities I’d been hiding. It would mean exposing the full extent of what I was, of what the Darkness had made me.
"All of you agree with this?" I asked, sparingly, my eyes shifting between them.
Drea nodded, setting her axe down and leaning back against the log she was sitting on. "If Garvin’s willing to share his sheet, I’ll share mine. Trust goes both ways, Sigvard. You’ve earned enough of it that I’m willing to take the leap—if you are."
Malric gave a faint shrug, his voice quiet but firm. "Fair trade."
Garvin grinned, trying to inject some of his usual charm into the moment. "Come on, Sigvard. You’ve already seen what we’re like in a fight. This just puts a few numbers to what you already know."
I hesitated, my mind racing. I’d spent so much time hiding what I was, worried about how they’d react if they knew the truth. And yet here they were, offering to put their trust in me, even knowing what I was. It wasn’t just a gesture—it was an olive branch. A chance to finally close the gap between us.
"Alright," I said finally, my voice steady. "Let’s do it."
Garvin’s grin widened, and he held up his hand. With a faint shimmer, a glowing interface appeared in the air in front of him, visible to all of us. His character sheet was laid bare, every detail open for us to see.
Garvin, Level 14
Class: Knight
Primary Stats:
* Strength: 20
* Endurance: 18
* Dexterity: 10
* Intelligence: 7
* Charisma: 15
Skills:
* One-Handed Sword (17)
* Heavy Armor Proficiency (12)
* Leadership (8)
Abilities:
* Taunt: Draws enemy attention for a short duration.
* Iron Will: Reduces damage taken for a limited time.
"Not bad, huh?" Garvin said, his grin smug. "I told you I had the best teachers. They taught me how to focus on what counts."
Drea rolled her eyes but smirked. "Your charisma’s doing a lot of heavy lifting there, buddy."
"Hey, it works," he shot back.
Next was Drea. She hesitated for a moment before holding up her hand, revealing her own sheet.
Drea, Level 12
Class: Berserker
Primary Stats:
* Strength: 25
* Endurance: 15
* Dexterity: 12
* Intelligence: 8
* Charisma: 6
Skills:
* Two-Handed Weapons (19)
* Intimidation (10)
* Light Armor Proficiency (9)
Abilities:
* Berserk Rage: Increases strength and attack speed but lowers defense.
* Battle Cry: Stuns enemies in a radius.
"Not much to look at," Drea said, shrugging. "But it gets the job done."
Garvin let out a low whistle. "No wonder you hit so hard."
Finally, Malric revealed his sheet, the glowing interface appearing in front of him with no fanfare.
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Malric, Level 13
Class: Ranger
Primary Stats:
* Strength: 10
* Endurance: 12
* Dexterity: 25
* Intelligence: 13
* Charisma: 7
Skills:
* Archery (21)
* Stealth (15)
* Survival (10)
Abilities:
* Snipe: Fires an arrow with increased precision and damage.
* Camouflage: Blends into the environment, becoming harder to detect.
When it came to me, I hesitated again, my hand hovering in the air. But I’d already agreed, and there was no turning back now. With a deep breath, I allowed them to see my full character sheet.
Sigvard, Level 10
Class: Shadow
Primary Stats:
* Strength: 8
* Endurance: 10
* Dexterity: 22
* Intelligence: 11
* Charisma: 9
Skills:
* One-Handed Sword (11)
* Stealth (9)
* Survival (7)
Abilities:
* Shadowform: Temporarily increases all stats x2 and cloaks the user in black flames.
* Corrupt Weapon: Summons a weapon from inky black ooze, unbreakable but stamina-draining.
* Shadow Dagger: Launches a small, fast projectile from the palm.
* Enhanced at Night: Increases power of all Darkness abilities.
Effect: Corruption: You are corrupted by the Darkness.
The campfire was silent as they took it all in. I braced myself for... I wasn’t even sure what. Anger? Fear? Rejection? But instead, Garvin nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"That’s a hell of a class," he said. "Dangerous, sure, but I can see why Sid trusted you. That Shadowform alone is no joke."
Drea frowned slightly, but she didn’t look as hostile as I expected. "You’re faster than most. That makes sense now."
Malric, as usual, didn’t say much, but he gave me another faint nod, his approval subtle but clear.
"Alright," Garvin said, clapping his hands together. "We’ve all seen each other’s cards now. No more secrets. Let’s keep moving forward."
For the first time, I felt like part of the group.
The journey to the next town was uneventful, and after the chaos of the swamp ruins and the exhausting fight with the serpents and relic, that was a welcome change. The road was well-traveled, the skies were clear, and for once, I could just enjoy walking with the group without worrying about some corrupted creature or monstrous abomination jumping out of the trees. Garvin had finally lightened up again, cracking jokes and trying to sing—badly, I might add—while Drea muttered her usual sarcastic comments under her breath. Even Malric looked a little more relaxed, though his version of "relaxed" was still just quietly brooding in the background.
The town itself was a fair bit larger than New Fenrir, with bustling streets and tall stone buildings that looked like they’d been built to withstand the worst weather the region could throw at them. It had an air of wealth to it—not ostentatious, but clearly well-off. And the mercenaries’ guild here, "The Spear," was on a completely different level from the ramshackle but charming atmosphere of "The Sword."
The innkeeper behind the counter was a tall, rough-looking man, his face weathered by years of hard work and, judging by the scars on his arms, probably a few battles as well. His hair was a mess of graying tangles, and his clothes were plain, but his presence was imposing enough that none of us dared comment on his unkempt appearance. What stood out, though, was how pristine the rest of the inn was.
The floors were polished to a shine, the mantles above the hearths carved with intricate depictions of animals—stags, wolves, eagles, even the occasional bear. The rafters overhead weren’t just clean; they were polished, as if the very wood gleamed with pride. I could smell faint hints of lavender and beeswax in the air, and the entire place had an orderly, almost military precision to it.
Garvin whistled as we walked in, his eyes wide as he took in the details. "This place puts The Sword to shame," he said, running a hand along the edge of a polished banister. "I mean, I love a good rustic vibe as much as the next guy, but this? This is class."
Drea rolled her eyes. "Of course you’d say that. It’s got ‘rich kid’ written all over it."
The innkeeper looked up from the ledger he was scrawling in and raised an eyebrow. "Something I can help you with?" His voice was deep, gravelly, and carried just a hint of irritation, like he didn’t have time for nonsense.
"We’re mercenaries," Garvin said, stepping forward with his most charming grin. "Just finished a job out of New Fenrir, thought we’d come by and see how The Spear holds up to its reputation."
The innkeeper gave him a flat look, then glanced over the rest of us. "Mercenaries, huh? You don’t look like much." His eyes lingered on my still-dented armor and Malric’s slightly frayed cloak. "But I guess if you’re alive, you’re at least halfway decent. Rooms are available, if you’ve got the coin. You’ll pay for them up front. And don’t break anything, or you’ll be paying for that, too."
I half-expected Garvin to bristle at the slight, but he just laughed it off, tossing a few coins onto the counter. "No problem. And we’re a lot more than halfway decent, just so you know."
The innkeeper didn’t respond, scooping up the coins and pointing us toward the stairs. "Rooms are on the second floor. Numbers are carved into the doors. Dinner’s served at sundown. Don’t be late."
The rooms were... incredible. Mine was easily twice the size of the one I’d had back at The Sword, with a large feather-stuffed bed that looked so soft it might actually swallow me whole if I laid down on it. The walls were lined with thick, rich wood paneling, and the floor was covered in a plush, woven rug that I was pretty sure cost more than all of my gear combined. There was even a small writing desk tucked into the corner, with an actual glass oil lamp instead of the usual battered tin ones I was used to.
The windows were clean enough to see through—an actual luxury—and looked out over the town square, where merchants were setting up stalls and townsfolk bustled about their business. It was almost surreal, seeing a place so... peaceful after everything we’d just been through.
But the luxury came at a price. Unlike The Sword, there were no free rooms for Rangers—or anyone else, for that matter. The guild here clearly catered to a higher clientele, and while it was clear they expected professionalism from their guests, it also felt like a step up. I wasn’t technically a Ranger anymore, but even if I had been, I doubted it would’ve made a difference here.
Garvin flopped onto his bed in the room next to mine, his voice carrying through the open door. "This is the life! I could get used to this."
Drea snorted from her own room down the hall. "Enjoy it while you can, noble boy. We’ll probably be back in the mud by the end of the week."
I chuckled, setting my gear down and stretching out on the bed. She wasn’t wrong. This was a world where comfort was fleeting, and I wasn’t going to take it for granted.
After settling in, we regrouped downstairs for dinner. The dining hall was just as well-kept as the rest of the inn, with long tables covered in crisp linen tablecloths and warm, golden lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The food was leagues above what we’d had back at The Sword—roasted meat, fresh vegetables, thick slices of crusty bread, and even wine. Actual wine.
As we ate, Garvin leaned forward, grinning. "Alright, so, new town, new opportunities. What’s the plan?"
Drea shrugged, taking a swig from her tankard. "Find the job board in the morning, see what’s available. Same as always."
"Come on," Garvin said, waving a hand. "This place feels... different, doesn’t it? Bigger jobs, bigger paydays. I mean, look at this inn. It’s like it’s practically daring us to aim higher."
Malric raised an eyebrow. "You’re assuming bigger jobs don’t come with bigger risks."
"They do," I said, cutting in. "But we’ve handled ourselves so far. And if this town’s anything like the last, the guild will have jobs that match every level. We’ll find something."
Garvin nodded, his grin widening. "Exactly. And hey, maybe we’ll even run into Sid. He gets around, right?"
"Maybe," I said, though I doubted it. Sid was more likely off dealing with something far more dangerous than what we’d find on a board in a town like this.
But as I leaned back, sipping from my cup, I couldn’t help but feel a faint flicker of excitement. A new town meant new challenges. And after everything we’d been through, I was ready to see what this place had to offer.