At first, Rachel’s crashing through the brush created a direct passage through the forest. Then, her rage ran out. After that, she was a little more careful. She still had to stop, and wait for us a couple times though.

Bernadette gave out first.

She tripped, and crashed onto the forest floor. I picked her up, but she couldn’t stand straight. She must have run until her legs gave out. I checked her slate, and sure enough, she had five levels of exhaustion.

The way that condition worked, is that if she got a single more point she would die. The only way to remove those levels was a night’s sleep, which got rid of somewhere between 2-3 levels. And if I expended a lot of healing I could burn through maybe one more.

We’d pushed her to the limit. I wasn’t doing so hot either.

Rachel hadn’t noticed.

“Wait,” I said.

Rachel kept walking.

“Wait!”

She stopped. She jogged back.

“Hey, we can’t rest,” she said. “Captain Wen is probably leading—”

“She’s passed out,” I interrupted.

“Oh. Damn.”

We just looked at each other. I let her see my own tiredness.

“Even if she could move, it’ll kill her.”

“Okay. I’ll start setting up the tent.”

I could feel the wind coming in through the trees. It was going to be a cold night.

“I’ll start a fire,” I said.

“No, fire,” Rachel said.

“Right. They’ll be looking for us.”

While she set up the tent, I gathered brush. The tent was already pretty dirty, but I rubbed big swaths of mud on it. Rachel didn’t say anything, but nodded when she saw what I was doing.

After a bit of effort, I was able to get the tent reasonably camouflaged.

We all piled into the tent and fell asleep. I don’t remember much.

When I woke, it was still dark. I had Bernadette in my arms, like always. And my arm had been put to sleep, of course. But I was startled by the breath against the back of my neck. And the feeling of someone’s arms around me.

Rachel gave me an annoyed groan, and I crawled out from between them with some effort. Rachel pulled Bernie into her, and they returned to sleep.

I figured I should go take watch for a bit.

The night was cold. My armor was torn to pieces, so I put on what was left of my gambeson after some magic to sow it back together best I could, and wrapped my cloak around myself.

The forest was quiet.

Man, that was a wild fight. I laughed despite myself.

We were so dangerous now. I was beat to hell. I should be dead. We’d had a whole city of guards coming for us, but we escaped. With my magic and buffs, Bernie’s killing prowess, and Rachel tanking for us, what couldn’t we do?

We could take on better quests for sure. We could really start working as a team.

It was nice to have my friend back.

I worked on the little rabbit I’d been whittling. It was my third or fourth one, but I think this one was maybe my best. After an hour or so, the twilit clouds shone snaking beams of light down through the trees, and Rachel exited the tent.

“You should get more sleep,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe in a bit,” she said and sat next to me. She’d her gloves tucked into her belt, which was around her waist for the moment.

We had our backs to a tree. We didn’t say anything for a bit. I kept looking at her, but I didn’t know where to start.

She laughed. We both laughed.

“I’m so glad I found you,” Rachel said.

I pulled her into a weird sitting side hug.

“Me too, man.”

“What are we doing next?”

“I don’t know,” I said, pulling out my slate.

Looking at the quests tab showed the ones for reuniting with Caleb, and the one for Mark. Then there was the main quest about the queen. Seeing a new blue dot, I clicked on it.

It said: ‘defeat dragon.’ I clicked on that.

The tool tip continued by saying—

Defeat Flaymeskerg the Insatiable, and plunder his hoard. Please note that other adventuring parties covet his riches, and a few have the ability to obtain it. Therefore, this is a limited time quest. Helper NPCs are recommended to round out the party, but no more than 3 additional ones. Information on this quest can be obtained from a direct message to the DM.

“Did you see the—” I started to say.

“Defeat the dragon, yeah. I don’t know, it sounds dangerous.”

“Would the DM put a quest on the map we couldn’t win?”

“The main quest is on the map. And there is no way we’re ready for it.”

“But does he do that with a side quest?”

Rachel gave me a nonplussed look, unable to answer.

“I’ll text him,” I said.

Breznik: hey. What’s with this dragon quest? Is it at our level?

DM: Thank you for asking. It is rated for a level 10 party. But it could conceivably be completed by a party of your current level with at least two level 8 NPCs of suitable ability.

Breznik: what does ‘suitable ability’ mean?

DM: It means those that are proficient in combat, not just crafting or social skills.

Stolen story; please report.

Breznik: how do we find those?

DM: You have already met several.

“What’d they say?” Rachel asked.

“Said it’s rated for level 10, but we could do it now if we had a party of five.”

Rachel made a contemplative noise, and gazed off into the distance.

“So what are your stats like?” I asked.

“You want to show me yours, and I’ll show you mine?”

“Har har,” I said sarcastically, and handed her my slate. She handed me hers.

Oriana the level 8 Starbound Barbarian.

HP 82, AC 17 (unarmored)

STR 19 (+4)* DEX 16 (+3) CON 18 (+4)

INT 10 (+0) WIS 12 (+1) CHA 9 (-1)

Items: Belt of Ogre Strength (sets strength at 19)*, Gloves of the Pugilist (double damage from unarmed strikes and improvised weapons), Necklace of Second Chance (grants Fighter’s second chance feature)

Abilities from barbarian: Rage (twice per day, halves all damage received, increases own damage by 25%, grants a 50% boost to athletics skills), unarmored defense (grants a boost to defense equal to constitution and dexterity bonus, and increases movement speed by 50%), Against Destiny (rage uses per day may reset when attempting to thwart fate, uses of rage gained in this way are doubled in potency)

Skills: Athletics, Insight, Sleight of Hand, Social Drinking

Damn her stats were good. We swapped slates back. She probably had some trouble with combat before that belt, but her constitution was insane. And the gloves made her deceptively dangerous. Those guards at the bar hadn’t seen her as much of a threat until it was too late.

Her kit was supremely good, likely made her hit harder than her level would suggest. It really reminded me that I was the biggest liability in the party. I had to get better. And fast.

“You said, ‘he?’ You think they’re a ‘he?’” asked Rachel.

“The dungeon master?”

“Yeah.”

“I just assumed. Why would it matter?”

“Maybe it doesn’t,” Rachel answered. “I’d feel better if it was a girl.”

I thought for a moment.

“Me too. But maybe we shouldn’t.”

That gave Rachel something to chew on. Eventually, I broke the silence.

“What was your crew like, the Foaming Mugs.”

“Man, I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sorry.”

She barreled through the awkwardness, like she often did.

“What’s up with you and, Bernie? We call her Bernie, right? I never got to know her well, and the last time I saw her it was five years ago.”

“You two seemed pretty chill at the tavern.”

“Yeah! She’s surprisingly easy to get along with. That was all her,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“Well, she’s great in a fight. And she is really easy to get along with.”

“Nah, I was asking if—”

“Asking what?”

“If you guys had hooked up?”

“No!”

“Just asking. But you want to?”

“I mean, I don’t know. We’ve gotten pretty close. We work well together. And I don’t want to mess that up.”

“That’s fair,” she said, taking a flask from her vest, unscrewing the top, and tossing it back. “You want some?”

Man could I use a drink. Of course I did.

“Sure,” I said, taking it from her. I took a sip, then spiraled into a coughing fit. It burned. It burned harshly.

“Hey, careful!” she said. “It's dwarven hooch.”

“I can tell!” I sputtered, but took a second sip to show I could. It still burned, but I was ready for it. It wasn’t quite as strong as everclear or something, but damn it had to be close. It tasted incredibly smokey, and it left honey on the finish. Pretty good, but dangerously strong.

“You like it?”

I had to be truthful.

“I love it,” I said. And meant it. Whiskey was my vice, and this was pretty close.

“Yeah, it’s expensive as hell, but there is nothing better for a twilit watch than sharing spirits with a friend.”

“Who talks like that?” I asked, looking at my friend as if they were someone I’d never met.

“I guess I do, man, shut up!”

She punched me in the arm. I could feel the welt forming already. At least she wasn’t wearing her gloves.

“Ouch! Fuck, man.”

“Sorry! Oh shit! The belt. I’m sorry, man!”

We laughed. She put her arm around me, and we laughed hard.

“Man, I missed you,” I said, wiping away tears that were only mostly from laughter.

“Me too.”

Rachel stood, and helped me up. We meandered around the tent keeping an eye out, but talking also.

After a while I said, “So being here’s kinda changed you.”

“It has. As we have seen, I sometimes speak like my friends do. Or did. I’m stronger now also.”

“In more ways than one.”

“Certainly. I don’t think I could have taken a betrayal like Wen’s before living and fighting here. Now it just makes me mad.”

“We going back for revenge?” I asked with some apprehension.

“Ha! Relax. We’re not heading back. But that’s only because I don’t think we’ll need to. The Queen bids that we must die, so she’ll catch up to us eventually.”

“And when she does, can we take her?”

“We’ll have to. Maybe this dragon quest will put us over the edge.”

“Did you two…”

“Bang? Yeah. It’s how she got me. I really loved her. Turns out that I never really knew her. She’s a straight up sociopath. Or maybe just a true believer. ‘Anything for the Queen.’ I don’t know.”

My mind swirled with inappropriate questions. She saw my face, and made as if to punch me.

“At least the other arm!” I said in as manly a way as I could, and turned to present my other shoulder. She laughed. After a bit I asked, “what was it like when you first got here? Everyone got here alone except me. How did you handle it?”

“What do you mean you didn’t arrive here alone? I thought we all did.”

“Nah. Bernadette found me, like, the second I showed up.”

“Wow, lucky,” she said in a way that sounded more like she was just surprised than envious, “when I got here, I just walked to a bar on the frontier, and got to work. I knew that if I ever got into trouble, I could just rage. That’s how I got the gloves. I bought them. The belt I got off a bounty hunter that got too cocky. That was the first month or so, and I just hit the ground running after that.”

“You weren’t scared?”

“I mean, yeah sometimes. I had to fight a pack of orcs on my own first week here, and got my ass kicked. But my starbound rage kicked in, and I cleaned their clocks. The only fight I’ve ever lost was to Wen.”

She took a sip of the hooch, and handed me the bottle.

“Shit,” I said, then took a sip of my own.

“What about you?”

“Did I ever get scared?” I thought back to that first fight. It had been scary, but also exhilarating. Then I thought about that night where I took my first level in bard. A lump caught in my throat, and I didn’t trust myself to speak for a moment until I fought back the tears. “The night I learned magic. Bernie got real hurt.”

I handed the bottle back to her.

“Oh, shit,” she said, drinking from it.

“And she was gonna die if I didn’t do something. So I took that level in bard, and told her I needed her.”

“Wow.”

“I know it can’t be like what you went through, but I didn’t think we were gonna make it.”

“Hey, what I just went through was unimaginable. And I probably won't make it back to sleep til I finish this whole damn bottle. But your shit is bad too. I love it out here, but it isn’t all stomping goblins, and shagging tavern wenches.”

“Yeah.”

“Speaking of — that elf girl with the sword,” here she made cupping motions with her hands, “and the you know? She has a sister?”

“Shut up! Dalara is a nice lady.”

“And they’re twins?”

“Identical as far as I can tell.”

“Dalara and Denyla, huh? I call dibs on whichever one we meet again first.”

It was my turn to punch her on the shoulder, and she gave me a shit-eating grin.

This wasn’t the friend I knew. But this was Rachel. We had history. And I knew we would always have each other’s backs. Because who else would?

We used to be able to talk about anything. I would talk to her about girls — probably too much — and she’d talk about boys. We didn’t shy away from talking about sex or farts or anything. She was never ‘one of the guys,’ but in some ways she was easier to talk to than one of the guys. She actually listened.

But now there was this thing that happened to her that I couldn’t stop. She’d been hurt, hurt bad, and I hadn’t been there for it. And she’d grown. She’d become this incredible badass. She always was, but now she was more so. And now there was the gay thing too. I didn’t want it to be different, but it was.

“Woah,” she said, “what was that?”

“What?” I glanced around the forest trying to get a bead on what she’d seen.

“That whole face journey. What was that?”

“Oh,” I said, relieved, “I just, ah, I just keep getting reminded how different you are from who I remember. But you’re still you.”

“Am I?” she asked.

“Of course.”

She downed the last of her drink.

“Well that’s good to hear,” she said with a huge grin. “I’m off to sleep some more. Wake me in a couple hours.”

“Alright!”

She walked off. I watched her pick her way through the brush, and back to the tent. I sat on a log, and continued whittling my little bunny. The sounds of the forest — the birds, the crickets — grew around me.

I had a lot to think about.