The first order of business was to get as many people out of the camp as possible, as fast as possible. Bo couldn't handle that, because he had bigger problems to deal with in the very near future. The pitmaster shoved his pinkies into the corners of his mouth and let out a piercing whistle to recapture the crowd's attention.

"Listen up," he said. "Grab your stuff. Just enough for tonight. Bring some food, water, and a change of clothes. Other than that, only bring stuff you actually need before morning. Grab a weapon if you've got one. That includes knives, meat tenderizers, or anything else that could cut down a jackalope or filet a pig. Don't bring guns or ammunition. They're useless. Move. You don't have much time."

Salt Life started to head off with his friends, but Bo clapped him on the shoulder. "You're with me," he said. "There's a job I need you to do."

The man looked at Bo over the bridge of his sunglasses. "Just because you’re stronger than me doesn't mean you can give me orders."

"What's your name?" Bo asked. "I can't keep thinking of you as Salt Life."

"Martin," the man said, chuckling a little. "Martin Oakdale."

"Okay, Martin," Bo said. "I'm not giving you an order. I'm asking you to come with me. People will need help getting to the casino. I’d like you and a few others to give them that help."

For a moment, Bo thought Martin would reject the idea. But the man nodded, rubbed the stubble on his chin, and said, "Okay. I can do that. What's your plan?"

Bo tilted his head toward the forest of mesquite trees half-mile away. The dust clouds still rose above them, but it wasn't getting any closer. At least not yet. But Bo didn't trust whatever was out there would stay clear of his people. He didn't know if he could stop it from coming, but he could at least give it a reason to choose a different path.

"I have to deal with that," he said.

"That's a tall order," Martin said.

"I'm a tall guy," Bo replied. "Grab Hank and anyone else you trust. Give people ten minutes to get their stuff together, then hustle everybody out of here. Sound good?"

Martin nodded and thrust his open hand toward Bo. The two men shook hands. "I've got it," he said. "We'll see you there."

With that, Martin took off to do as he'd been asked. Bo was glad things had worked out for the moment, but he wasn't foolish enough to believe they'd stay sorted. Martin was a proud man with a following of his own. That could cause problems for Bo down the road. The pitmaster thought about that as he left camp, thumbs shoved into his front pockets, eyes locked on the cloud rising above the trees.

You did well back there. I think it would've been smarter to simply kill the fool, but there is some merit in your decision. Perhaps he will become a useful ally. If he doesn't stab you in the back.

"People aren't devils," Bo said. "Martin's not a bad guy. His entire world got turned upside down. I bet he has a wife and kid out there, somewhere, and doesn't know if they’re dead or alive. He’s scared, and guys like him aren’t used to that. He tried to push me around, get some control over his life. Now that he knows I'm not trying to boss him around, he'll work with me instead of against me."

That was a gamble. I'm glad it paid off for you, but what if you'd misjudged him?

"Then he could have killed me when I laid down," Bo said. "But I didn't think he would. Turned out I was right."

Let us hope you are also correct about whatever is causing so much noise up ahead.

Bo kept up a brisk clip as he moved toward the line of mesquite trees, but he had to stop several times to deal with aggressive wildlife. A small group of oversized squirrels had burst from hiding to pelt him with rocks. They were a foot and a half tall sitting up on their hind legs and had to weigh five pounds each. The rocks stung Bo's naked legs but didn't cause any real injury. The pitmaster chased the creatures off with some well hurled rocks of his own. Though he didn't hit any of the fuzzy-tailed rodents, the big rocks he chucked convinced them this was not a fight they wanted.

A ridiculous twenty-foot-long king snake later lunged at Bo from behind a bush and tried to chew through the toe of his boot. The creature's attack was ineffectual, but its aggression was alarming. Bo kicked it off into the weeds, then hustled along, much more alert than he had been before. He didn't know what had riled up the local critters, or why they were getting so much bigger, but he didn't have time to tangle with them. He was especially concerned about giant copperheads or rattlesnakes, because those were ornery enough on a regular day. He did not want to see what had become of them when the world changed.

Magic affects creatures in different ways. It is unpredictable. Some of them will grow smarter. Some of them will transform into different creatures, like the jackalopes. Others will get bigger. Most will become more aggressive and search for sources of power.

"They become champions?" Bo asked.

No. But they will become monsters. And monsters can improve themselves in much the same way as champions. They can even develop cards, but those will be limited in scope. I doubt any of the native creatures have reached true monster status yet, but they will. You need to know that the world is much more dangerous than you think.

"I know it's dangerous," Bo said. "But you're probably right. There is a lot of crap I don't know about this magic business."

Which is why I am here to help guide you. You should slow down. We're getting close to the forest.

Bo did as the devil suggested. The mesquite trees were less than twenty yards away, and Bo felt the ground shake every time a cloud burst into the air above them. Mesquite were low-slung trees, more similar to bushes than say, an oak or maple. Their low crowns were dense and interwoven, the tips of the branches rising thirty feet into the air at their tallest, but also spread out and down to form a thick hedge a little lower than Bo's waist. The pitmaster uses gloved hands to pry the branches apart to form a path. The going was still slow and painfully noisy.

Fortunately, whatever is on the other side of these trees is even louder than you. They may not hear us coming.

"Nobody likes a backseat driver, Barbie," Bo said.

I wish you wouldn't call me that.

"I wish you hadn't tried to kill me and taken up residence in my head," Bo said. "But I don't see any Make-a-Wish celebrities coming around to grant either of us our hearts’ desires."

It took Bo most of fifteen minutes to make his way through the mesquite forest. His skin was covered in welts and bruises from the branches slapping back against him, but he was surprised there were no cuts are more serious injuries. His rising core level must have protected him from the worst of the damage. That was a plus.

Your natural defenses will grow stronger as your level rises. There are other benefits, but I'm not sure which of them will apply to humans. It's more fun as a surprise, anyway. I'll leave it to your imagination.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"That's nice," Bo whispered. He reached the edge of the wood and looked out on the clearing filled with trampled grass and sagebrush. A group of truly massive bison stood in the center of the clearing, four of them huddled together while the fifth patrolled around them. The smallest of the creatures stood fifteen feet tall at the shoulder, while the largest was closer to twenty-five feet. That one's massive hooves pounded the ground from time to time, kicking up a massive cloud of dust around the herd. As the dust rose into the air, it sparked and crackled with electric power. Bo made a mental note to stay well clear of the creature’s impressive defenses.

But he didn't see was whatever had the small herd riled up. The big male was clearly worried about something. Whatever it was was enough of a threat that the bison didn't feel comfortable moving, but it circled up in a defensive position. Bo tried to imagine what sort of creature would alarm the giant, horned monsters, and couldn't come up with anything. He debated leaving the creatures to their own devices. This wasn't his circuits, and they clearly weren't his monkeys.

But if he left, he'd never know what the threat was. And if it was something that it scared the bison, it was something he should worry about, too. Bo waited a few more minutes, but the danger never presented itself. He'd have to go looking for trouble and hope it didn’t find him.

The clearing was surrounded on the west by the thin line of mesquite trees Bo had navigated to reach it. The eastern edge was bounded by rocky bluffs that Bo believed had been apartment buildings for the casino staff before everything went to Hell in a handbasket. An offshoot of the Red River formed the clearing’s southern edge, and the northern side was a denser patch of mesquite trees. Sneaking through the woods again didn’t strike Bo as a fun idea, so he hunkered down and moved toward the water’s edge. Tall grass offered him cover, and he slipped from there into the shallow stream behind the cattails that hid him from the bisons’ view.

The cold water soaked through his boots in no time, but Bo scarcely noticed. He knew he should be shivering after a few minutes of carefully picking his way along the shore in search of whatever had spooked the thunder bison, but he wasn’t even chilled. He chalked that up to another benefit of his advancement.

A thunder bison bellowed, freezing Bo in his tracks. He peered through the cattails, careful not to give away his position by moving them too much, and saw that the gigantic bull had decided to put an end to whatever had threatened his family. The creature thundered across the clearing, clouds of sparking dust erupting from the ground with every pounding stride. Its hooves kicked up clods of earth the size of motorcycles that crashed back to the ground and exploded into thick sprays of dirt and pebbles, filling the air with a rich, loamy scent.

The creature reared up just short of the stony bluffs. Its eyes rolled wildly in their sockets, and Bo knew the creature was nearly as terrified as it was furious. With another angry roar, the thunder bison slammed its front hooves down on the ground. Again and again, the massive creature pounded the earth with black hooves, every blow loud as thunder. The cattails swayed wildly, and the river’s bed jolted under Bo’s feet for what felt like an eternity.

Satisfied it had dealt with the danger, the thunder bison bull snorted and trotted back to its family. The mammoth animals nuzzled each other in a surprisingly gentle display, then trotted toward the edge of the clearing.

The south edge of the clearing.

Bo froze in place. The last thing he wanted to do was attract the bull’s attention and get stomped into paste. He prayed for the beasts to go the other way, but whatever gods were looking out for Bo weren’t in a prayer-answering mood.

The gods don’t care what happens to you, or any mortal. That is the reason devils exist.

With another snort, the bull took up a guard position to the east of where Bo hid. He looked up and down the river for anymore threats. When its massive eye swept over the spot where the pitmaster was hunkered down, Bo’s heart froze between beats.

Bo held his breath as the mother and calves drank from the river in great, noisy slurps. He lowered himself deeper into the water until only his eyes and the top of his head remained above the churning red-brown current. He tried, without success, to not imagine what would happen if the bull unleashed its thundercloud into the water, just to be on the safe side.

Perhaps your rubber gloves and apron will insulate you from its devastating electrical might. Or it will electrocute you, and your friends will never know what happened.

The bull waited until the rest of its family had finished drinking, then lowered its shaggy head to slurp up his fill. Bo was amazed at just how large the creatures were. He swore he could feel their body heat, and that the bull lowered the creek’s level just by drinking. Finally, the entire herd crossed the creek east of where Bo was hidden.

Once they’d disappeared into the darkening night, Bo finally let himself take another breath. “You’re an asshole for talking shit to me while I couldn’t talk back,” he said to Barbie.

True. You should go see what the bison killed. There might be some treasure left behind.

“Good idea,” Bo said. He clambered up out of the creek and shook as much of the water out of his hair and clothes as he could imagine. For once, he was glad he only had on shorts.

He had to pick his way through the enormous hoofprints left behind by the bison family, which was trickier than he’d thought it would be. The ground was a churned mess of ruts and mounds, not to mention the ridiculously massive cow flops that covered the ground. Bo finally reached the spot where the bull had gone nuts and was surprised to find the subject of the animal’s ire was not, in fact, dead.

A short, slender, humanoid figure lay half in and half out of a hoofprint. The lower half of its body was in the depression, and the creature’s legs were broken in a hundred different places. Though the creature had worn metal armor on its legs, the gear had provided no protection at all against such a massive attack. The protective gear was now embedded in the creature’s shattered legs in ways that looked unbelievably painful to Bo.

The top half of the creature’s body had fared better, not that it mattered. The fine chain mail that covered its torso must have dissipated some of the bison’s fury, but hadn’t spared the poor bastard’s left arm from being crushed to paste.

“Get away from me,” the humanoid said. Its skin was a deep blue-gray that bordered on black. A glossy violet mane of hair fanned out around its head in bloody disarray. Though the creature’s facial features had once been fine, even regal, one eye was now swollen shut and its nose was smashed off to one side. Blood ran over its black lips, a sure sign it had suffered some grievous internal injuries.

Bo took a moment to really examine the creature and did not like what the system told him.

GRAIL SYSTEM EVALUATION

Name: Unknown (Shielded)

Type: Grunge Elf (Drow Mutate)

Core Level: 3

Role: Striker

Deck Size: 10 cards

Deck Composition: Unknown

Status: Mortally injured.

CORE LEVEL DIFFERENTIAL: DANGEROUS

“You’re a long way from home,” Bo said.

“My home is wherever my boots take me,” the creature said, spitting blood on the last syllable. “Leave me be.”

Bo wanted to wipe that smug smirk off the creature’s face, but knew that any further injury would kill the asshole. Given that this was a member of one of the invading forces he’d been warned about, the pitmaster wanted answers before he finished the creature.

“Let’s have a little chat first,” Bo said. “Tell me why you’re here.”

“To harvest you and your pathetic world,” the grunge elf said. “My people will come for me when I do not return. When they find my body, they will know there are enemies near.”

“And just where are your people?” Bo asked.

“Like I’d ever tell you,” the grunge elf replied. “The first you’ll know of them is when they’ll appear from the shadows to take your life.”

“Or they’ll get killed by a big cow,” Bo said with a snort. “You talk big for someone who got popped by a herbivore.”

The grunge elf rolled its eyes and laid its head back in the dirt. It lay very still, as if it had lost the strength and will to live.

Bo leaned forward to get a better look at the creature. He had more questions to ask. He could wait until the grunge elf woke up. If it woke up.

Something moved at the edges of Bo’s vision, and he instinctively threw himself back from it.

The grunge elf had mustered its strength to raise its remaining arm. A small contraption mounted to the underside of its wrist slid forward and discharged with a tinny thwang that sent a tiny dart flying at Bo’s face.

The pitmaster jerked to one side, but he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the attack. The dart embedded itself in his cheek, just below his eye.

“Big mistake,” Bo growled. He stepped forward, raised his boot, and brought it down in the middle of the grunge elf’s face.

The creature’s bones crunched, and it let out a gurgling last breath.

Bo sat down on the edge of the hoofprint, his head swimming. With a groan, he read the message that appeared in the air before him.

YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED

Before he could read the rest of the status message, Bo’s eyes fluttered closed, and he fell onto his back.