System had left Brexis after it became clear that Francis wasn't going to help him. Mac had made vague hints about knowing how to resolve the situation, but making deals with a demon was never a good idea.
His quest to defeat “Mattie” the dragon had taken him to the southernmost edge of the Dark Forest, near where it bordered the elven lands. System was unaware of a dragon by that name, but then again, he had been distracted lately.
He suspected that Mattie was some kind of renegade the other dragons were trying to get rid of. It would explain why the Adventure Guild had been willing to put a bounty on them. They wouldn't have dared to cross that line without permission from their scaly bosses.
System smacked his forehead as clues began falling into place. He knew a dragon that resided in the southern forest, one that the other dragons didn't get along with. Those bastards had sent him to take down Tiamat, System realized.
He sat down on a nearby log to process this new information. System had assumed that his bounty would be a normal dragon, not an ancient terror notorious for burning entire nations to ash. This changed things.
System thought of Mac’s offer. Dealing with a demon suddenly seemed much more appealing than fighting a gigantic flaming death lizard. Even if he somehow managed to win, the surrounding area would be uninhabitable for generations.
Then, out of the blue, another bout of inspiration struck him. Fighting Tiamat wasn't something System could do alone, but he didn't have to. Brexis had been preparing to take on any hostile gods that might come knocking.
Tiamat would come up against Hank's inventions, Willow’s skeletons, and the annoyingly resilient Marine in charge of it all. There was also Wilbur standing by in case everything else failed.
System got up and started walking back towards Brexis. It wouldn't be hard to get a rumor started that Francis was preparing to take Tiamat on. And once that information reached the dragon in question, she would inevitably come knocking.
He almost felt bad for the people of Brexis. Those that survived the attack would be displaced by the fallout. Then again, if Francis had helped System in the first place, he wouldn't have needed to resort to such extreme measures.
Oh well, System thought as he walked along the dirt road back to the Brexis. Wilbur would probably try to kill him for this, if he ever found out. But that was a problem for future System.
Right now, he needed to find a Bard.
***
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Spot’s feet were killing him. The portal from Hades' realm had dumped him in a cave near the western wilds. After that, it had taken several days of walking to make it down to the lowlands.
Now he was faced with a choice. The Silver River would take him directly to Brexis. But Olympia was in ruins and all the boats were gone. He could either continue on the road, or try to make a boat.
Swimming in the Silver River was not an option. The current was strong, and hungry creatures lurked beneath the surface. The hound looked for something he could nail together into a makeshift vessel.
That was when he spotted the orcs. They were camped out on the beach of a man-made lake. Some were in tents, while others used the hulls of rough hewn canoes as temporary shelters.
A smaller group had broken off and were trying, and failing, to stealthily push a canoe onto the lake. The scouts watched and laughed. They were taking bets on how many of the young raiders would make it back alive.
Spot knew an opportunity when he saw one. He dug around in his inventory for some leather armor and a belt of flotation. Normally he wore a black breastplate under a gray cloak, which went well with his spotted fur. But while looking good was important, he also had no desire to drown.
“Hello!” he called out, boldly walking towards the orc raiders. They were all around human height, in their early twenties, and absolutely out of their depth. He suspected that most of them didn't even have a combat class.
The one with the best armor eyed him suspiciously. “Have you come to stop us?” he asked in an oddly soft voice.
“No, of course not. I'm just taking a look at your vessel. Did you boys carve it out yourselves?” Spot made a big show of inspecting the craft. It was smaller and more manageable than the other ones on the beach. “I'm a sailor. So, it's in my wheelhouse, so to speak.”
The orcs huddled together in conversation for a minute. Eventually the leader waved him over. “Alright, come have a look then.”
Spot almost felt bad for them. It was evident that they were nervous about traveling downriver. Judging by the state of their boat, he could understand why.
In the process of hollowing out the canoe, someone had gotten a little bit overzealous and put a hole in the bottom. It was hastily patched over with tar and leather, but water was already seeping through.
The hound lay his hand on the hull, using one of his Sailor abilities to repair the damage. Hades had said that Spot was stupid for multiclassing, but how else was he supposed to get access to good utility spells and abilities?
The orcs watched dumbfounded as wood flowed like clay to patch the hole. “Um, thanks,” said the leader, “I guess we will be off now.”
One of the shorter orcs looked Spot up and down before turning to his leader. “Boss, far be it from me to tell you how to run your raiding party. But, shouldn't we, you know, kill this one and take his stuff?”
“I'd prefer it if you didn't,” Spot said, “Actually, I was hoping to temporarily get a spot on your crew. You know, guide you down the river so you don't drown.”
Once again the orcs argued amongst themselves. The big one tried to size up Spot. “Can you fight?”
“Yeah,” Spot replied, deciding against mentioning the fact that he could have taken on the raiders blindfolded. (In fact, the level gap between them was so large that he could probably win, even if they weren't blindfolded.)
“Welcome aboard,” said the orc in charge as he extended a hand to his newest crew member, “My name is Leslie.”