On the way out of Haemir, we passed by a town crier standing on a pedestal, shouting out the news. I didn’t recognize the names used in any of the reports, so it wouldn’t have stood out to me as anything more than a curious way to pass information if not for the report about Oxenraith.

“And there was a Shambler attack in Oxenraith last night. Four dead,” the crier announced.

That was the news: four dead in Oxenraith.

“Hey,” I asked, tapping the closest party member on the shoulder. It happened to be Alloha. “What’s a Shambler? That guy just said there was an attack in Oxenraith.”

Alloha’s face constricted for just a moment, then she forced a quick smile to cover it up. “That’s right. You said you were new around here. I guess nobody’s told you.” She glanced around with nervous energy before continuing. We were trailing behind the rest of the party. When she saw the coast was clear, she leaned in and whispered in my ear. “The Shambler is a monster that can’t be killed. It roams around at night sometimes and kills people at random. It’s attracted to people who talk about it, so you can get in trouble for even saying its name most of the time.”

“Is that the you-know-what I’ve heard people mention?” I asked.

Alloha nodded. “But please. I’m not really comfortable talking about it. The only time it’s safe to mention it by name is if it just attacked the night before. It never kills two nights in a row. The longer it’s been since an attack, the more dangerous it is to draw its attention. Come on. We’re falling behind.” Alloha nodded her head after the others and hurried off to catch up. I didn’t want to press her to talk about something she didn’t want to, but I was fascinated that I could apparently finally get some questions answered about the mysterious “you-know-what”. Everyone had been so cagey about it since I arrived, and I guess that was because it had been overdue for another attack.

A tingle went down my spine. Brookie! He’d said the thing would probably try to kill him because of our conversation! He was in Oxenraith. Had… had I caused those deaths by pressing him to tell me more about the creature? Why was it called the Shambler? Despite Alloha’s reluctance to answer, she’d stirred so many new questions. It seemed everyone in this world knew more about the creature than I did. If today was going to be the only day for weeks that people would freely talk about the creature, I wanted to get some answers while I could.

While I stood there, thinking, a single word snapped me out of my reverie. A familiar word: Lightglow. I looked around to pinpoint where that word had come from. It was the town crier; he was reading off a list to a small crowd.

“…and one Pierce Fidderman,” the crier finished. “Three students and one university professor. May they find peace with Marketh.”

Peace with… was that the names of the victims? I hadn’t been paying attention, but that’s what it sounded like. I hurried over to the town crier. He has a small crowd huddled up around him to hear the news. “Excuse me, sir?” I spoke up. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure my party members weren’t getting too far ahead. They were leaving the square, headed for the city gates. I thought if I hurried I’d be able to catch up.

“Speak, child!” the man answered in a booming voice. He wore a very official-looking outfit of red cloth with a golden dragon stitched into the front. “What is your question?”

“What was the name of that professor you mentioned? The one killed by the Shambler attack.”

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“Of course, of course,” he said, looking back down at his scroll. “Among the poor victims at Oxenraith last night was a Professor Jonas Lightglow. Did you know him, child?”

My heart sank into my stomach. He’d been so nice! “Yeah,” I said, “yeah, I knew him. Sorry… I’ve got to go.”

I pushed my way back out of the crowd. People were giving me looks of sympathy. I couldn’t stand it. His death… was my fault. It had to be. Brookie and I had our conversation about the Shambler right down the hall from his office. All he’d done was try to help me! I felt so disappointed in myself. He’d been working on curing not just my cancer, but other cancers. Now I wouldn’t have a specialist to consult with once I gained access to the Broker’s Skill library. Brookie had warned that the conversation would be dangerous. I really needed to start paying attention to how my actions were impacting other people.

I saw a commotion at the opposite end of the square as a group of paladins pushed their way through the crowd in the direction of the Adventurer’s Guild. That seemed like a good excuse to get out of there. I jogged to catch up with Alloha and the others.

Normally, I would have expected crowds to get thicker near a city’s gates, but it seemed travel by road wasn’t especially popular in Earris. Things thinned out the further we got from the Porter’s Guildhouse. Grant gave the party a once-over as we approached the gate and nodded when he saw I’d caught back up.

Leaving was easy. The guards at the gate barely even glanced at us as we filed out. We continued on to the King’s Road, retracing the steps I’d taken with Ferrith just a few days earlier. Not for the first time since returning from Oxenraith, I wondered where he was. I glanced at the stables kept to the side of the gate, outside the city walls. It was where Ferrith had parked his ogres before heading inside. There were only stags tied up there. That meant Ferrith must be out on a contract.

The pace the others set was hard for me to keep up with. It was just a little faster than the fastest walking pace I could comfortably maintain, forcing me to occasionally jog to keep up. Their much longer strides gave them an unfair advantage. I hustled a bit and came up next to Torra. He and Alloha brought up the rear, with Grant and Jay chatting comfortably in the front. Victoria silently brooded in the middle of the pack. “Hey Torra,” I said. “You know where we’re going?”

“To the heart of the Maw!” Torra said with a smile. His tone was rather dramatic.

“Oh? What’s the Maw?” I asked.

His smile faltered, then turned into a frown. Alloha giggled. “Not gonna work on him!” she teased.

“You’re no fun,” Torra complained. “You were supposed to say, ‘Oh no! Not the Maw! Anything but the Maw!’”

“Maybe I would if you explained what it was.”

Torra waved a hand. “It’s too late. The joke won’t work if I have to explain it. It’s just a very dangerous place North of Haemir. That’s not where we’re going. Not exactly. Grant’s got the map. He said he could track a route that would avoid pursuer beast territory.”

“I’m all for staying out of pursuer beast territory,” I said. “I watched them tear through a group of ogres like they were nothing. Just started eating them alive. That’s why I bought Static Bolt. My broker said it scares them off.”

“It does,” Alloha confirmed. “That was a good buy.”

“When did you have a run-in with pursuers?” Torra asked. “I thought you said you haven’t been adventuring before.”

“Not adventuring, no,” I said. “That was when I first got to this world, when I was traveling with Ferrith.”

“Oh? You know Ferrith?”

“You traveled with Ferrith?” Alloha asked. She sounded star-struck. “He is probably the most famous bronze tier adventurer… ever! He almost always travels alone!”

“Infamous maybe, not famous,” Victoria commented from in front of us. She acted like she wasn’t interested in our conversation, but interjecting exposed the lie of that.

“I don’t believe the rumors,” Alloha said. “Nobody survives adventuring alone that long without a serious Skill. He could have made steel a dozen times by now if he really wanted to. He just stays out of guild politics. Nothing but respect for that.”

I’d seen Ferrith fight up close. I might not be an expert myself, but I could tell he wasn’t one either. He swung wide and left himself open every time. If not for his ogres doing most of the grunt work for him, I had no doubt he’d get trounced by even casual threats. “Interesting,” I said. “I didn’t realize he was choosing to stay bronze tier.”