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Chapter 2

Great Forest Dungeon

Second Floor

A small cabin appeared before Owin. A fire crackled in a metal stove with a huge bear rug lying on the wooden floor in front of it. Two men sat at a table in the center of the room with steaming mugs and juicy slices of ham.

Great Forest Mob

Cultist

Level 10

They both turned to Owin. Their faces were mostly hidden by their deep hoods. They stood, knocking over their chairs, and brandished knives. The one on the other side of the table also pulled a wand from inside his sleeve.

Before Owin had a chance to react, a small bolt of electricity shot from the wand and struck him in the chest. He flew back and crashed into the doorway, but collided with the black fog as if it were a solid stone wall. His health dropped to 10 and his breaths felt like inhaling fire.

“Goblin scum,” the nearby cultist said. He walked over and crouched beside Owin. The fire continued crackling calmly in the stove and their food smelled delicious.

Owin drove his knife right into the cultist’s neck. He stumbled back, grabbing for the knife handle as blood bubbled out of his mouth. Owin rolled to the side as the wand shot another bolt, which zapped harmlessly on the wooden floor.

The closest cultist swung with his own knife, despite the one in his neck, and barely caught Owin’s arm, cutting right through his green skin. It was a shallow cut and only ticked his health down to 8.

With his new belt, he was able to quickly pull a health potion off and drink it, filling the bar back to 20. Owin chucked the glass bottle at the cultist’s head. He fell, hit his head on the table, and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

0 Experience

The cultist across the table ripped his hood off and shouted. He aimed the wand and shot again. Owin moved to dodge, but the lightning covered the distance immediately and threw Owin against a chair just under a mounted boar’s head.

The wand sizzled as it dropped from the cultist’s hand. Little rivulets of blood ran from his eyes and nose. Owin sat up, using the chair as support, and used Examine on the wand that sizzled on the tabletop.

Apprentice Level Wand

Spells: Bolt

0/3 uses remaining for today

Note: Further use without charges will result in health drain

The cultist rounded the table, keeping his eyes on Owin. His face was contorted into a wicked scowl that caused the blood to run over deep wrinkles. “You killed Giullus.” His hand shook as he held the metal knife.

“You attacked me.” Owin climbed on top of the chair. His knife was still stuck in Giullus’s neck. What was a cultist? What did they want? Why were they attacking him? Owin still hadn’t figured out where he was, and before he could even investigate more, he was in some place entirely new. He was getting angry.

Owin leapt from the chair and landed poorly on the table, spilling the steaming drinks over the weathered tabletop. He scrambled over the dinnerware and grabbed the wand, pointing it right at the cultist’s face.

New Spell Available

The notification appeared for just a moment in the corner of his eye. Owin opened his index and flipped to Spells. The moment the index appeared in front of his face, the cultist ran. Owin quickly selected Bolt and felt a shock rip up his arm as the wand sizzled loudly. A bolt of electricity struck the cultist right in the face, knocking him onto his back.

Health: 7/20

Owin fought the pain and slipped the wand into his belt. He grabbed a fork and knife from the table and leapt off, landing right on top of the cultist. His face was charred from the bolt, and he screamed as Owin landed and drove the utensils into his face. Another notification of 0 Experience floated through his vision.

He drank another health potion, then retrieved his stone knife and checked the cabin for anything useful. A bookshelf held some old tomes and scrolls, and a barrel was filled with wine. Owin popped off the top and sniffed it, recoiling from the pungent sour smell. He ate the cuts of ham and drank what little tea was left that he hadn’t spilled.

His index had more information hidden that was easy to flip through while he was eating. There were details for each attribute, tabs on his map for inside or outside, and an option to select current or complete quests in his journal.

The Class tab was still blank.

Someone laughed nearby, causing Owin to jump to his feet and brandish his knife. He flipped his map to Outside, but all he could see was the roof of his current building. There was an entire conversation happening, but he couldn’t make it out through the walls. Owin looked at the wooden door that was about twice his height. Going out there would mean more fighting. He didn’t hate it, but what was he fighting for? Who were these people?

“Who talked to me before?” Owin asked.

He waited in silence.

“Who?” he repeated. “Why am I fighting? Where am I?”

You speak so casually to Ruvaine, Goddess of the Great Forest. You are in my domain, thrall. You ask why you fight, but the answer is simple. You fight to survive. Ascend to the top and conquer my dungeon or you will die. If you wish to live as the unique creature you are, then you will play my game. This will be the last time we speak, unless you defeat my herald and reach the eleventh floor. Play my game, thrall, or you will not survive this floor.

Owin climbed off the table and opened the door. The sky was blue outside with only a few puffy clouds in the sky. A bird sang not far away. A cobblestone plaza filled the space between buildings. To Owin’s left, the land became hazy. When he approached, it appeared more solid like a wall. He pressed his hand against it and couldn’t push through. The hazy wall went as far as Owin could see.

“Master Dindross said to find an assistant,” someone said. “Where are we going to find an assistant here? That mad alchemist isn’t going to help with anything, and the satyrs will happily rip us to shreds.”

Owin sidled to the corner and peeked around. Two more cultists stood in the center of the plaza, laughing about the idea of a satyr assistant.

Great Forest Mob

Rattis

Cultist Magus

Level 12

Great Forest Mob

Kidibose

Cultist Hunter

Level 13

Rattis carried a gnarled wooden staff and wore identical robes to the two cultists Owin had killed inside the cabin. Kidibose carried a bow and had a quiver hanging from her hip. She wore a shoulder cape with a hood, but had mud-covered boots and tights on under her tunic. Both of their faces were mostly veiled from their hoods.

“Play the game?”

A yellow light floated above Rattis’s head. It didn’t cast any light onto the things around it, and when he turned to look around the plaza, the light followed his head. Owin used Examine on the light. His vision was immediately overwhelmed with huge, bolded words.

New Quest

Assistant of the Malignant Spirit

Reward: A favor from a powerful man

Note: Check the Journal for more information

The reward wasn’t clear, but it did pique Owin’s curiosity. Plus, everything around them was covered in dense forest. Pine trees lined the small village in all directions, even when Owin looked back at the hazy wall.

“I can assist,” Owin said.

Both cultists looked at him and didn’t immediately attack.

“Can you?” Kidibose asked. Her smirk was all Owin could see of her face. “A level one goblin?”

“Sister,” Rattis said. “Master was clear that the assistant couldn’t be a member of the cult.”

Kidibose sighed. “Then let’s go, goblin.”

“Owin.”

“Sure.”

There were four other buildings in the village, all bigger than the little hovel he had just left. Kidibose and Rattis immediately left, passing between the buildings, through the plaza, and into the dense forest beyond.

Owin lagged behind, taking a chance to peek into the windows of the buildings he passed. Each one had at least one cultist inside, always with a hood over their head even if the rest of their outfit was something entirely different.

Owin hopped the little curb at the end of the plaza, ducked under a few low branches of poorly maintained trees, and found Kidibose and Rattis standing right in front of a rusted metal gate set in the center of a tall stone wall. Inside, there were dozens of graves, and beyond the cemetery was a tall, ornate building topped with a dome and some golden statue at the very peak.

Rattis opened the gate, having to force it as it creaked. Rust drifted from the hinges.

“Hurry inside,” Kidibose said.

Owin walked past the cultists and found two skeletons standing right inside the gate. Their bones clattered with every little movement. They each held greatswords that looked far too heavy for them to carry.

Great Forest Mob

Skeleton Berserker

Level 14

Neither skeleton made any move to attack, so Owin quickly hurried past. He had struggled plenty with a level 10 cultist. Even if he used the bolt wand again, he doubted it would be enough to stop a skeleton.

“Evening,” Rattis said to a skeleton, nodding his head.

The sun was still high in the sky.

“Hurry up,” Kidibose said, obviously annoyed.

Some skeletons dug new graves along the outer walls of the cemetery, leaving dirt piles between each new pit. All ten rows of graves in the center were covered in marble blocks with little markers at the top of each. Most had horns carved into the marker, though some had the horns carved into the block itself.

Two more skeleton berserkers stood outside the door leading into the cathedral. They were idle, letting the broad blades of their greatswords rest on the mossy dirt.

Kidibose and Rattis led Owin right over the top of the marble-covered graves as if it was some odd path. Rattis wished the skeletons a good evening and headed inside.

Owin felt uncomfortable as he stepped into the massive room. The domed ceiling was high above and glowed with unnatural light. There wasn’t a single window in the cathedral and torches lined the walls.

Roughly carved columns in six rows of two led from the door to a huge onyx statue of a winged creature. From so far away, the figure in front of the statue looked even smaller than Owin.

“Master Dindross,” Rattis said, dropping to one knee. “I bring you an assistant, as you requested.”

“Approach,” Dindross said. His voice echoed through the cathedral.

Owin didn’t wait for Kidibose to hurry him along again. He walked forward confidently. One hand held his belt up and the other on the bolt wand. His stone knife was tucked into his belt near where he was holding it up. The whole thing was unsteady, but how else was he going to carry everything?

A few more skeletons appeared between rows of columns. They carried different weapons, some wearing armor, some wearing robes. One was missing half his skull and an arm, but still stood with a mace.

Owin opened his index and quickly used Examine.

Great Forest Mob

Nosolus Dindross

Chosen Magus of the Malignant Spirit

Level 16

“A goblin? You aren’t Naxile’s servant?” Nosolus asked.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Owin stood right in front of the cult leader. The human was more than twice as tall as Owin. He wore a robe, much like the first cultists, but with no hood. His head was bald with some faint white hairs growing back and tattoos of horns that curved around his ears.

“I don’t know who that is,” Owin said.

“Fascinating.”

Owin waited as Nosolus waved the skeleton guards over. They lumbered, dragging greatswords. A few remained hidden amongst the columns with bows and staves.

“This new creature is going to assist us with the alchemist and satyr problems,” Nosolus said.

A skeleton nodded.

“He will need an escort.”

The skeletons remained near motionless.

“I will do it, Master,” Rattis said from the front door. His voice echoed quietly.

“Who are you?” Nosolus asked.

“Magus Rattis, Master.”

Nosolus scratched the top of his head and considered the hooded man. “Goblin, do you have magic?”

Owin pulled the wand from his belt. It still sizzled quietly.

Nosolus took the wand and regarded it for a moment. “I suppose this counts. Those satyrs have some dangerous spells.” The cultist handed the wand back and nodded toward the front door. “Who are you?”

“Kidibose, Master.”

“A hunter will be a better fit for this task. You will escort the goblin to the satyr village.”

Kidibose bowed. “Yes, Master.”

The skeletons, now not needed, wandered back to their previous positions. They wobbled and leaned on weapons to stay balanced.

“What am I doing?” Owin asked. At least this time when he asked, there was more purpose. What was he doing? And what was a satyr?

“Oh, yes. You see . . .” Nosolus crouched until his eyes met Owin’s. They were spirals of glowing red. He hadn’t noticed from below. The cultist didn’t even have pupils. “The damn satyrs in the forest have stolen something from me.” He gestured to the statue of the winged creature just behind him. “Do you see what is missing?”

Owin had to lean to the side to see around the cultist. The winged creature was crouched with its clawed hands splayed over the edge of a pedestal. Its feet were wide and webbed, but otherwise looked normal. Nothing was missing on the limbs. He followed the arms up to its face where there were clearly no eyes.

“The eyes.”

“Observant little creature. Yes, the satyrs stole the Malignant Spirit's eyes, and it will not forgive them. We will reclaim the eyes and complete our mission.”

“What about the alchemist you mentioned?”

Nosolus stood back upright. “We will worry about that little problem once you have secured the eyes. Now, off with you. I have matters to attend to.”

Owin regarded the skeletons again. It didn’t seem like the cultist had much of anything to do, and based on what he had seen from the goblins in the cave, Owin strongly suspected Nosolus would remain exactly where he was at the moment. At least most of the mobs were a little more alive.

Kidibose eagerly waved Owin on as he hurried back to the front door. Rattis bowed slightly and stood aside as the hunter led the way over the graves and into the coniferous forest beyond. Kidibose only walked for a few minutes before she slowed and took her bow off her shoulder.

“Do you know where we’re going?” she asked.

“No.” Owin looked around. It all looked like forest. More and more of the same forest.

“If we find the river, we’re going in the right direction.” She pulled an arrow from her quiver. “I think.”

Owin drew his knife and kept his other hand holding his belt, right by the sizzling wand. He wondered when it would stop sizzling. It didn’t hurt to touch, but his ragged clothes had singed.

“Where did you come from?” Kidibose asked.

“Below.”

“Hm?” She looked back and pulled her hood down. “Below where?” She had long red hair that was tied back to hide underneath the hood. Dark, but faded tattoos covered the top half of her face, almost giving the appearance of wearing a hood even with it down.

Owin pointed at the dirt beneath his feet. Grass, moss, and other small plants grew in clumps around the bases of trees, but most of the forest floor was exposed dirt and fungus with roots snaking all over the top or protruding from underneath.

“Huh.” That’s all Kidibose said as she pressed herself against a tree and peeked around the side. She nocked an arrow and held a finger up to Owin.

He pressed himself against the bark of another tree. Branches snapped just on the other side of the tree. Kidibose slowly drew her arrow, causing the arrowhead to shine yellow, casting light onto the forest floor.

Owin let his belt go and it quickly clattered to the ground. No potions broke, but it clinked loudly. Something growled. Kidibose nodded and stepped around the tree. She shot the arrow. A trail of bright light followed it and illuminated a giant wolf with rippling fur. The arrow stuck into its forearm, singeing the fur around the wound.

The wolf growled and lowered its head. Its black eyes were pits, and its mouth foamed and dripped drool.

Owin opened his index and switched to Spells. It took so long each time, even as he practiced. He had to figure out a faster way to access the different parts of the index.

Great Forest Mob

Grim Wolf

Level 10

“Some help?” Kidibose asked as she drew another arrow from her quiver.

The wolf growled and lunged, crashing against the tree Kidibose hid behind. It fell to the side, stunned. Kidibose drew her arrow back, but Owin had already reached it and drove his knife into its head.

0 Experience

Kidibose crouched beside the corpse and placed a single finger on its chest. “Aim for the heart. “It’s the easier target.” She held out her hand and pulled Owin to his feet. “Do you just jump at everything?”

Owin nodded. He grabbed the belt, made a new hole, and tightened it even further than before. He stuck the bloody knife back in his belt.

Kidibose laughed. “Clean the knife. Use the wolf’s fur or the dirt on the ground. You’re just smearing blood on your clothes.”

Owin did as she said and put the knife back in his belt, though there was still blood smeared across his ragged tunic. “What was that arrow?”

“This?” Kidibose pulled the bowstring back until her arrow glowed with yellow light.

Owin nodded.

“It’s an arrow dipped in light.”

“Dipped . . . in light?”

Kidibose shrugged and relaxed her bowstring. The glow faded from the arrowhead. “If there is one grim wolf, there’s probably more. Stay alert.”

“What are satyrs?” Owin asked.

Kidibose clicked her tongue. “Hard to explain. Have you seen a goat?”

“No.”

“Well, that was going to be the only comparison I could make. I think you’ll just have to see for yourself. They are nasty people. Stealing and all that.”

In the silent forest, Owin could hear the gurgle of the nearby river. As Kidibose said, if they found the river, they were heading in the right direction.

“What do you do when you’re not hunting?” Owin asked.

“I run the bakery in the village.” Kidibose wound between some trees. The forest floor sloped down to a deep blue river that was much wider than Owin had been expecting. Kidibose stopped at the top of the hill.

“What’s a bakery?” he asked.

“Are you serious?” Kidibose leaned on a tree and watched the river. Owin caught a glimpse of two more grim wolves below. Their fur shuddered and moved on its own.

She pulled the bowstring back. The arrowhead turned blue and looked like a little triangle container of water. “If we survive, I’ll make you some baklava. We just need those eyes.”

Owin pulled out his wand and knife, holding one in each hand. “Have you been to the satyr village?”

“Nope. I’ve met a few. Ready?”

Owin hopped forward, landing on the slope. He slid down a few feet before hitting a root, and started tumbling toward the bottom. Kidibose shouted something, but Owin couldn’t make it out as he bounced along. His health only ticked down two points before he landed right on his bottom between two grim wolves.

A water arrow struck the one on Owin’s right. Water exploded from the arrowhead, soaking into the wolf’s fur. Owin pointed the wand and activated Bolt. Pain ran up his arm as his health ticked down another three points. Electricity hit the wolf right in the nose and spread up its face.

Both wolves growled. Even the injured one seemed unphased. Owin shot another bolt and felt the sting as the wand sizzled loudly. The wolf backed up a step just as the other wrapped its jaws around Owin’s arm. Sharp teeth stabbed into his skin, tearing through muscle. The wolf whipped its head and threw Owin. He landed heavily on the dirt and rolled to a stop inches from the river.

His health was nearly gone, little more than a red sliver. He pushed himself up with his one working arm. Kidibose was between the wolves. She drew an arrow that fully turned to stone. The heavy arrow drove through the injured wolf’s head and pinned it to the ground. The other leapt at her, which she deftly dodged.

Owin drank a health potion, filling his bar to the top. His arm stitched back together, but some pain still lingered. He was slow getting back to his feet. The wand was easy to find, still sizzling in the dirt close by. Kidibose pulled a shortsword and slashed at the wolf. Her blade glowed red just as it struck, then she jumped backward.

The wolf didn’t look injured where she had struck, but gashes appeared and blood exploded on the back of the wolf’s legs. It limped toward her, still growling. She drew another light arrow and hit the wolf between the eyes.

“Are you trying to die?” she asked.

Owin shook his head.

She stomped up to him and pulled the wand from his hand. “Stop using this!”

“Why?”

“Did you not notice it burning your veins? It’s out of uses for the day. If you need range, we can find you a crossbow or something.” She shook her head like he was an idiot. “Wait until tomorrow to use this again. Bolt isn’t going to kill a grim wolf anyway. That’s what someone would use on goblins.” Kidibose cocked her head. “No offense.”

Owin took the wand back and put it in his belt. “I will keep using this,” he said as he held out the stone knife.

“What’s your highest stat?” Kidibose asked.

Owin looked at his attributes through the index.

Level: 1

Strength: 55

Constitution: 20

Dexterity: 30

Intelligence: 105

Wisdom: 10

Charisma: 10

“Intelligence.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed. You’re fighting like you’re a soldier or berserker, when you’re a wizard.”

“I don’t have any spells.”

Kidibose scoffed. “How are you alive? What level are you?”

“One.”

She groaned. “What was your dexterity?”

“Thirty.”

Her eyes widened. “Forget the crossbow. You wouldn’t even be able to hit the ground.”

“What’s yours?” Owin asked.

“One hundred thirty four.”

“Oh.” Owin nodded. He got it. It was simple enough to see the difference there.

Kidibose played with her bowstring, playing a note as she flicked it and looked at the wolf corpses. “If the satyrs want to fight, we won’t last long. We need to find a better way for you to fight. Do you have any class abilities?”

Owin shook his head.

“How did I end up with you? Walking into the satyrs is going to be certain death.”

Owin thought back to what the cult leader had said. There were hints that the satyrs were dangerous, but nothing about the quest said they needed to kill them. Owin checked the journal, where the goal of the quest only said ‘Acquire the Eyes of the Malignant Spirit.’

“Nosolus didn’t say we had to kill them to get the eyes,” Owin said. “We can find another way.”

Kidibose continued flicking her bowstring. “It’s possible. Do you have a plan?”

Owin did not have a plan, nor had he ever made a plan before. Up to this point, he had been acting on instincts. Everything was new and confusing, but slowly, things were starting to make sense. “No.”

“Oh, great.”

“I’ll figure it out.”

Kidibose pulled her hood up and tapped each of the ten arrows left in her quiver. “Ready to move then?”

His health was lower than bigger mobs. He was fine on the first floor, with the other goblins because they were as strong as he was. The grim wolves seemed easy enough, but after hearing about Kidibose’s stats, Owin was clearly going to be outmatched by most people.

If he wanted to learn more about the world, if he wanted freedom, he had to climb the tower. The goddess had made that clear. To climb, he needed strength and knowledge, both of which he was currently lacking.

“Not yet.” Owin sat with his back against a tree and opened his index. He hadn’t had a chance to sit and look through everything. It took too long to open the index and switch to the different tabs, especially when he needed to quickly examine something.

Under Spells, Examine was listed under Power 1, which glowed slightly. He focused on the words and the glow brightened until all he could see was white light.

Three Spells Available

Power 1

Owin slid the words aside and found a whole column of spells.

Fire Arrow

Ice Arrow

Lightning Arrow

Energy Arrow

Discharge

Illuminate

Smoke Cloud

Flurry

Freeze

Bolt

Focusing on any spell gave a rough estimate of damage and mana use based on his 105 intelligence. Surprisingly, even with intelligence as his highest stat, the spells were nearly useless. His mana bar was half as big as his intelligence, giving him 53 mana points. Even casting the lowest spell would cost 35 mana for Smoke Cloud.

It was still better than nothing. He quickly selected Smoke Cloud, Bolt, and Discharge.

Equip to Quick Select?

Owin selected yes, and found icons for all three spells and Examine in the bottom right corner of his view. He checked it, quickly using Examine on Kidibose.

Great Forest Mob

Kidibose

Cultist Hunter

Level 13

“I’m ready.” All he had to do was focus his attention on the icons for a brief moment before they would cast. With the wand, he could use Bolt more often without worrying about mana, especially if he had the health to sacrifice.

Discharge was a mystery. Smoke Cloud was clear enough. There was no damage associated with the spell. Discharge had an estimate of 1-80 damage without any other information.

“Finally.” Kidibose had been leaning on a tree. “There’s a bridge just north of here. Keep an eye out for grim wolves or satyrs.” As she walked, she took an arrow and pointed it at the water, swearing quietly, then slid it back into the quiver.

Bird songs rang through the forest, accompanied only by Owin and Kidibose’s steps on dried leaves and broken sticks. It was the first true lull Owin had had since becoming aware. Pine cones littered the forest floor. Most of them were old and dry, but a few fresh ones fell as Owin walked past.

The bridge appeared just over a short hill where the water ran quickly down the slope. It was a rickety wooden bridge with ropes keeping the sections just above the water. Kidibose walked right onto it without any hesitation.

“Do you have a plan yet?” she asked.

“I have spells.”

“I don’t know if I’d call that a plan, but you’re fearless enough, I’m trusting you will keep me covered.”

The rope railing of the bridge was higher than Owin’s head. He had to reach up to hold it as he walked unsteadily over the wooden planks. They were warped and waterlogged, splashing down into the river with even the slightest weight. His feet were immediately splashed with water. It cleaned the dirt off his bare feet, but they would only get muddy on the other side.

“Stop, ghost!” a voice shouted.

Kidibose dove to the side, already drawing an arrow. Meanwhile, Owin was barely across the bridge as razor-sharp leaves flew from above and stuck into the ground right at the edge of the bridge.

He watched the trees, but found nothing. The trees didn’t even have leaves like the ones that had stuck into the ground.

“We’re not ghosts,” Kidibose shouted, aiming her bow into the trees. “I can’t see a damn thing.”

Something dropped from the trees, landing heavily right in front of Owin. Dirt puffed off the ground from the solid landing. It was a short creature with extremely hairy legs and wide, dark hooves. It had a belt and bag around its waist where the fur transitioned into thick gray skin. Its torso looked short compared to its legs, and its arms were muscular and long. The creature had no neck, and instead had a head like a turtle with a wide mouth and beady eyes with little horns that curved from the top of its head.

Great Forest Mob

Satyr Wizard

Level 12

“Careful, Owin,” Kidibose said as she let her bowstring relax.

That was when Owin felt something behind him. The creature hadn’t even disturbed the rickety bridge.

Great Forest Mob

Satyr Umbra

Level 14

The satyr directly behind him was shorter than the other one, but it was even more muscular and had appeared from nowhere. “Not ghosts,” the satyr confirmed.

“As I said,” Kidibose stored her arrow in her quiver.

Neither of the satyrs relaxed. The umbra held a straight bladed shortsword in its three fingered hand, while the wizard had a wand sticking out from a belt wrapped loosely around its midsection. It was more of a ribbon than a belt. Owin didn’t see any use for the piece of fabric.

“Why is Naxile’s assistant here?” the wizard asked.

“He’s not,” Kidibose quickly said.

“I’m not. I don’t know who Naxile is,” Owin said.

The wizard had a perpetual frown and looked past Owin at the other satyr. They didn’t seem amused.

“You look the same,” the wizard said.

“So do you two,” Owin said.

The umbra grunted behind him. “What do you want?”

“We’re here for the eyes,” Kidibose said.

The wizard turned his attention to Kidibose with his hand hovering near the wand’s handle. “Cultists.”

Kidibose made a show of putting her hood up. “Correct.”

“I’m not a cultist,” Owin said. He stuck his hands up. “I killed some cultists.”

“They started it,” Kidibose blurted. “Right?”

Owin nodded.

“A goblin and a cultist who talks before attacking?” The wizard, still frowning, nodded to the umbra. “We can allow you to meet our governor, but even the slightest move will be your death.”

Owin used Examine on the umbra again, and had no doubt they were telling the truth. He hadn’t seen what an umbra could do, but the satyr's ability to appear so suddenly and silently behind Owin was enough to tell him that he should avoid a fight. At least, for now.

Until Owin figured out how to continue building his strength, he had to be cautious, like Kidibose had said.