The first thing Weylan noticed was a pounding headache. Then, the smell and taste of earth and a cool, damp feeling all over his face. Although he couldn't see anything, his field of vision was filled with stars and weather lights. He felt dizzy and was somehow glad that he was lying flat on the ground... With his face in the ground... Slowly, his survival instinct kicked in, prompting him to wriggle and struggle until he managed to push himself upright. With a series of coughs, he expelled dirt from his mouth and hastily wiped it from his eyes and nose. Blinking, he tried to look around. Something was glittering in front of him. With a cautious hand, he cleared away more debris from his eyes and focused on the object in front of him: a dagger, poised menacingly mere inches from his face.

"Don't move!"

He froze and limited himself to blinking hard until he could recognize who was in front of him. Loreanna held the dagger, still dripping with blood, threateningly and ready to strike: "You will not burn me!"

His first attempt to speak ended in coughing and more dirt spurting out. Then he managed to say: "We have a quest! I thought it was to prove your innocence."

"I didn't do anything bad! That bitch stole my boyfriend from me. With her golden curls and her fat ass swinging around."

"And that's why you wanted to kill her?"

"What? No! The ritual they caught me in was to make their hair fall out. Nothing more. That would have been quite enough for that shallow no-good to drop her like a rotten plum. Not that it would have helped me explain that to the council."

A groan made them both move around. Trulda sat up next to them, holding her head firmly with both hands: "Hold her down so I can bash her head in."

Weylan didn't move but grinned at the unexpectedly bloodthirsty tone. He tried to sound reassuring: "Isn't that a bit exaggerated?"

"She rammed us through a tree!"

"I had no intention of taking you with me. Be glad I was able to hold the spell. If I hadn't noticed you at the last moment and actively included you in the spell, you would have come out somewhere else. Most likely in more than two places."

Weylan held his open hands at his sides to show that he had no intention of reaching for a weapon: "If you know such a useful spell, you could easily have earned a fortune as a messenger between the city and the village."

"Treewalking is a spell that is only possible with druid magic. No one else can access the connection between magic and nature."

Before Weylan could ask the obvious question, she continued: "I used his own life force to amplify his magic. That re-triggered the last spell he cast."

Trulda still looked at her angrily, but kept her clenched fists down with difficulty in the face of the dagger still pointed threateningly at Weylan: "I've never heard of such a thing."

"Only necromancers and witches know sacrificial magic. Neither group tends to tell their secrets around. Especially not when it comes to working magic by killing living beings."

"I can imagine. It's probably better that way. There are already enough reasons to hate witches."

The witch, her dagger now lowered, shot Trulda an equally intense glare. "Oh really? And what alternatives do you suggest for healing in these remote areas? Have you come across any temples nearby that train healers? Or alchemists brewing healing potions? In truth, there are hidden witches in every village. We concoct healing potions and gather herbs to ward off plagues and alleviate the ailments of the elderly. It may not be conventional healing magic, but it's better than nothing."

Trulda's emotions shifted from a simmering rage to a sense of skeptical distrust. "So you chose this class to aid your fellow humans?"

"To be completely honest... No. I simply wanted to cast curses on a few nuisances who've tormented me for years." The two looked at each other for a moment, then laughed at the same time. Trulda's fists unclenched, and Loreanna put the dagger back into a sheath. Weylan's gaze swung back and forth between the two of them in surprise.

"I am Trulda. This here is Weylan, the shepherd. Did you really think we wanted to see you burn at the stake?"

"The guy from the city guard who picked me up said the court case was your idea."

"And you saved us anyway?"

The witch looked indecisive for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders: "I haven't had time to think about it."

Weylan held out his hand: "If your first reaction is to save others, you can't be such a bad person." The witch thought for a second before she smiled and took his hand.

Trulda remembered something: "Wait a minute, didn't she just murder the druid?"

Loreanna shook her head: "Blood magic is a quick, painless death. I had nothing to help him. The alternative would have been to watch him die for another two or three hours. Admittedly, wanting to save myself made my decision easier."

The three of them looked at each other in silence for a while until Weylan cleared his throat and said: "I'm just glad I didn't have to decide that." He remained silent for a moment, then straightened up and announced in a suddenly very official tone: "Be that as it may, with regard to the accusations made against you, I find you guilty as charged."

Loreanna took a step back, and her hand went suspiciously back to her dagger.

Quest: Witch fire completed successfully.

Delivery of material reward is not possible. 60 XP

Trulda looked briefly surprised at the message: "60 EP. That's nice. Not enough to level up yet, but it's a good step." She noticed that Weylan was also staring at an invisible message and looked surprised.

Level Up denied. Promotion to Assassin Level 2+ requires personal training by an Assassin of a higher level.

Choose another class from the generally accessible list instead?

He postponed the decision on an alternative class choice for the time being.

Trulda nudged him: "Everything all right? Did you get any more information as a Questgiver?"

"No, I also got the XP for completing the quest this time. That's strange... Ah... A clue has appeared..." His eyes twitched back and forth for a while; then he grinned: "Nice. The World Voice has adjusted the rules. Questgivers can also receive quest rewards, but only for quests generated by the World Voice. Not for those created by the Questgiver themselves."

Loreanna relaxed again, "You had a quest to judge me?"

Weylan shook his head: "No, we should just find out if you're guilty and prove it. I thought that meant we were supposed to prove your innocence. But after you confessed, I guess that counts too. With all the wolves we defeated last week, I'm at level 2 now."

Loreanna shrugged her shoulders, unimpressed: "Level 2 shepherd. I'm impressed." She looked at him a little more closely and hesitated for a moment: "Although... At your age... That's actually not bad."

Now that no one seemed to be trying to murder anyone, Weylan looked around for the first time. They were standing in the shade of a large oak tree, whose trunk had numerous fine cracks from which wisps of smoke drifted upwards and disappeared into the tangle of leaves on the mighty branches. Fresh green leaves and small pieces of branches covered the ground all around. The oak tree itself was on the top of a slight hill. Hilly grassland stretched out in three directions, and in the last direction, the mountains rose steeply into the sky like a stone wall.

"Does anyone know where we are?"

Loreanna nodded: " A day's journey south of Mulnirsheim. I've been there before with my teacher to trade herbs and procure ingredients. That makes it clear where I'm going. Do you want to come with me, or would you rather go back to those sheep villages?"

Weylan barely opened his mouth to answer when the shadow of the oak tree in front of him was illuminated by red light.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Local world quests available!

"Save the duskgnomes"

The last clan of duskgnomes is in mortal danger in the underground paths. Enemies on all sides. No way out. Their apparent hope is a fledgling alliance with Princess Ulmenglanz's group, who are also being hunted to exhaustion. But their pursuers are close at hand.

Task: Save the duskgnomes from extinction.

Bonus task: Accompany the duskgnome clan to a safe place.

Reward: Dependent on the degree of success and individual participation.

Penalty for failure to pass: The duskgnome race disappears forever.

Since there was no penalty for the quest taker personally and world quests were famous for their generous rewards, he accepted the quest immediately. The two women started asking questions, but he just raised a finger and motioned for them to wait while he read the rest of the quest information. A rough sketch of the area appeared, showing two red pulsing circles moving from different directions on lines towards a crossroads. Four paths led from the crossroads, one of which ended after a stretch with a question mark. The red circles approached on two of the paths. The last path ended at a third red circle, which pulsated and grew larger and larger, although it did not move. At the intersection itself, there were two glowing green circles that just overlapped.

"So... I think I've got it. There are tunnels below us. Four of them meet at the location of both Princess Ulmenglanz’s group and the duskgnomes. Both groups seem to be allying. One tunnel leads into the unknown, enemies are approaching from two others, and one tunnel leads to the surface back there." He pointed in the direction of the mountains, where a bush-covered hill blocked the view. "But there's a third enemy waiting, which is getting bigger and bigger on the sketch. Maybe they're digging themselves in or building an ambush or something. In any case, it's getting more and more dangerous. On the sketch I can see, the symbols for both underground enemy groups are each larger than the green circles combined."

Trulda accepted the quest without a word; Loreanna looked at them both in confusion: "What's it to us? It sounds like we should get out of here as soon as possible! This is a quest for a whole horde of revenants."

Weylan shook his head: "The princess's companions are revenants. Apart from that, there is no one within reach who could accept the quest."

"So, that doesn't make it any better for us."

Trulda looked thoughtfully at the hill: "If we do nothing, they will die in any case. The last dryad queen and the last duskgnomes. Disappeared. Forever."

Loreanna shrugged and turned to leave: "They die even when we try to help. There's a reason why revenants are resurrected after death. Otherwise, they'd never be crazy enough to go on quests. We don't have that advantage."

Trulda nodded thoughtfully and looked at Weylan: "Your decision. If you think we should try, I'm with you. But I won't think you're a coward if you suggest we go elsewhere."

His gaze went over to the hill: "We can take a look at the smallest group of opponents first. Maybe we can help without facing an army of knights in an open-field battle. Quests aren't offered if you don't stand a chance."

Without paying attention to the two women, he set off. The two looked at each other briefly and then followed, shrugging their shoulders. They had to wind their way through the increasingly dense bushes for the last few meters. As they approached the top of the hill, Weylan got down on his knees. He carefully pushed himself forward on his stomach for the last stretch. His companions walked alongside him, bending only slightly at first, but when they heard a soft voice declaiming something from the other side of the hill, they followed his example.

The three of them came to the hilltop, pushed forward a little until they could see the area beyond and looked around.

Three hundred paces down the slope, the terrain became flat until, after half a mile, it reached the foot of the mountain. A few individual trees and lots of bushes had taken hold on the hill. Further down, flocks of sheep had kept everything short. Only grass grew until only sand and stones covered the ground in the shadow of the mountains.

Erygren, the smallest of the three moons, cast its greenish light over the landscape. The last glimmer of sunlight still glowed over the peaks of the mountains. In the open area stood a figure dressed in a dark robe with a man-sized staff and a Harefolk woman with towering ears in loose cloth armor. In front of them, a vast pentagram had been carved deep into the ground through the short grass and filled with a reddish-brown liquid. Dozens of dead sheep, their blood drained, lay strewn haphazardly around the pentagram. Weylan spotted a human figure, almost obscured by the animal carcasses. He said a silent prayer to the gods. It could have been him. It was clear that these revenants had sacrificed both a flock of sheep and a shepherd in the name of some sinister ritual.

The man's voice echoed deep and unnaturally loud through the dusk as he slowly paced around the pentagram, declaiming unintelligible words in an unknown language. Greenish mist poured from the eye sockets of the skull at the tip of his mage staff and spread all around to form a layer over the ground. The blood in the pentagram bubbled, and the three observers could detect the smell of iron. Swathes of green condensed in many places and burrowed into the ground.

In these places, the earth cracked open, and rotting corpses rose from the ground loosened by the fog. Their clothes had fallen apart, but they still wore rusty remnants of chain mail and leather armor. In their hands, they held short spears and musty wooden shields that threatened to crumble from being carried around. The fog around them seemed to be attracted to them. It crept up their legs and seeped into their bodies. The empty eye sockets began to glow green.

Weylan narrowed his eyes and muttered, "The fog is being sucked into the weapons and armor, too. Are they getting cleaner?"

Loreanna told him to crawl back. Only when they were a good distance away on the other side of the hill did she begin to speak quietly: "He summons the fog of Nistrul. It turns all corpses into undead and repairs bodies, weapons and armor. Witches can also learn this if they make a pact with Nistrul." She hesitated as her two listeners stared at her: "What? My mother told me that during my training. She strongly advised me not to get involved with Nistrul. A witch already has a hard time being accepted when she is exposed. A necromancer witch from Nistrul? Please. Even I would set myself on fire if I got involved in something like that."

Trulda thought about it and then said hesitantly: "Can he start a necromantic ritual so early? The sun hasn't even set yet."

The witch shook her head: "The sun has disappeared behind the mountains. As long as he doesn't try it in direct sunlight, the ritual is hardly more difficult. The darker it gets, the more powerful the ritual will be. The longer it goes on, the stronger the undead will become."

Weylan studied the whole thing for a while. Then he signaled the two of them to follow him and retreated down the hill to confer. Weylan rubbed his beardless chin thoughtfully: "Why are there any corpses in the ground at all? Why didn't they burn them like they should have?"

Trulda nodded: "That's right. It’s against custom. But they're all armed and in armor. This has to be a former battlefield. After a battle, there's often no time to burn the dead."

Weylan didn't sound convinced: "The Brotherhood of Undisturbed Sleep would have had more than enough time to take care of it."

"The Brotherhood was only founded after the war against the necromancers. Perhaps this is older. Nistrul may have sent his priest a vision that he will find something here. Or maybe he's been researching old battlefields in some old archives that the Brotherhood has so far missed."

Both women nodded thoughtfully. Then silence fell over the group for a few minutes.

Loreanna looked around once more and then stood up. She nodded to the other two: "Well, it was nice meeting you. As far as I can see, they're all concentrating on the duskgnomes and the talking plant. So, the way to Mulnirsheim should still be clear. We'll see if I stay there or move on to the kingdoms. It was kind of nice to have met you. Do you want to come with me?"

Weylan looked up at the hilltop with indecision. He neither knew the duskgnomes nor had he ever seen a dryad. Especially not this princess. He owed those strangers nothing.

Leaving would be the most sensible thing to do. Anything else was madness. The opponents they had to deal with here were far stronger than he and the two women. Higher levels, better equipment, magic powers and undead warriors. It would be suicide to stay here. Just like when the wolves had attacked his herd.

In his mind's eye, he once again saw the wolves tearing up one of the lambs and then circling around his beloved dog. How they snapped at him. Hurting him until he was too weak to continue fighting. Then they tore out his throat. Bellmart had fought to the last. He had defended his herd. While Weylan sat cowardly in the tree and watched.

Anything else would have been suicide. The wolves were too strong. They were outnumbered. He had had no other choice...

It had been logical not to intervene. It had been sensible.

Weylan was tired of being too weak to do the right thing.

He straightened up, and his face took on a determined expression that none of his childhood friends would have recognized: "No. I'm staying here. You go and report back to the town what's going on. No one likes the undead, so they'll send out soldiers to catch the necromancer. Now that there's another plague, there might even be a few heroes who are keen on the world quest. Tell them the Questgiver is waiting on site. Something tells me, however, that this will be too late for the besieged. I can feel them running out of time. They need someone to intervene now and open a way out. I will wait a little longer until it gets darker and the green ghostly fog thickens. Then I sneak up on the guy and backstab him. The undead crumble to dust. The duskgnomes and the dryad princess get out of their trap and walk with us to Mulnirsheim. Before the other pursuers catch up with us, you come to meet us with a fighting force."

Trulda tilted her head and looked at him for a moment: "Are you serious?"

"Do you have a better idea?"

She shook her head."

Loreanna looked at the two of them: "Are you insane? This is a suicide plan. There's a priest necromancer. Probably high level. With a new plague starting, he could be a revenant. You know the stories. They're not afraid of death. They take completely insane risks. When you finish them off, they come back the next day. Only angrier."

Weylan nodded: "But if he is a revenant and succeeds here, he will level up a level or more. If things go as in the legends, Nistrul will reward him and give him additional magical powers and abilities. Then we'll have another necromancer powerful enough to start a new necromancer war."

Loreanna hesitated, then shook her head: "A good reason not to stop in Mulnirsheim but to move on."

Trulda put her hand on his shoulder and smiled at him encouragingly: "I'll stay with you. Someone has to stop the bodyguard."

"Can you sneak?"

"Not good. But I can run very fast. You go ahead, I'll charge in only after you've been spotted. The necromancer priest walks in circles around his summoning pentagram. It's on the side with the entrance. Grab him when he's on our side. I don't think she can run through the magic thing. We'd have to make it to the bushes over there at dusk. From there, I can get to you faster than she can. With Llurd's luck, she won't even notice me before I hammer the quarterstaff into her skull."

The witch's gaze flitted back and forth between the two of them: "You're both stupid. But fine. Your decision. I'll be on my way." Shaking her head, she turned around without another word and stalked off, bent over. After two hundred meters, she switched to an endurance run.

Trulda reached into her ample cleavage and pulled a battle staff from the Cleavage of Holding. Weylan glanced quickly to the side. She nudged him: "Are you blushing?"

"It's just the excitement."

"I thought so." Her grin widened.

"The excitement of the fight coming soon."

"Of course."