The bar Prajio had in mind was one of a few in this town that catered specifically to his race. A Kurskin ran it, which meant the spirits were high-octane hits of liquid death. There were three other Kurskins inside, and I couldn’t help but notice their frequent glances toward our table.

I knew they were only intrigued by the oddity of a Kurskin having a friendly drink with a human, but nonetheless, their gazes were unsettling.

Val was visible in her avatar form, sitting right next to Prajio. I knew I was the only one who could see her, but it still made me nervous when she was out in public.

Prajio ordered me the same drink as him: something called a kurtail. Perhaps short for Kurskin cocktail? If so, it wasn't very imaginative, if you asked me.

The drink was served in a tall, thin glass and was intended to be downed in a single swig, although you didn’t have to dump it all down your throat at once. Prajio informed me multiple drinks were allowed if the rim of the glass never left your lips.

Back on earth, I once took a shot of Everclear at a college party. That shot was pure agony and made me realize just how poisonous alcohol was to the human body. We were not made to drink jet fuel. That said, I wanted Prajio to like me, so we tapped glasses and downed the kurtail.

The inside of my throat felt like it had been set alight, a blazing chemical fire. My eyes watered. I sucked in air through my nose, and the air felt like it was piercing my nasal cavity. This was Everclear times a thousand. This was a horror.

I coughed and snorted and cried for a solid ten minutes before the pain wore off. Prajio laughed the entire time.

“No offense,” I said when I could finally speak. “That’s the worst drink I’ve ever had in my life, and whoever makes it should be in prison.”

I blinked my eyes, trying to refocus as my world began to spin. Chugging a glass of water seemed to help.

“My people feel the same about your distillers. Their drinks are so weak they may as well be water. Kurskins are a hard people with hard stomachs to match. Intoxication is not an easy state for a Kurskin to achieve.”

“I'm saying no next time you invite me for a drink. Just for the record.”

He laughed. “The fact that you tried the drink shows me you have an open mind. When presented with additional information, you are willing to try new things, learn new concepts, and change your opinions.”

I tilted my head toward him. “You alone have forced me to rethink everything I knew about the Kurksins.” That line gave me an idea. I needed to know more about my enemies and not just what the parasite lodged in my brain told me.

“My uncle believed you were heaven-sent to save us from the Dalari’s incursion, but I’ve never been the religious type. What’s the truth? Where did you come from?”

Prajio pondered this a moment before replying, “That is a dangerous question to ask, one that some of my kind would kill you for uttering. Luckily, I am more reasonable than my fiery brethren, and so I’ll accept that you are asking an honest question with no intent to offend.”

I held up my hands. “If it's taboo, you don’t have to answer. I would hate to offend my new friend.”

“Fear not, Ethan, I am not offended. I already know you do not believe we are immortal angels sent by God to aid in your fight against the Dalari.”

“So, what can you tell me?”

He tapped at his chin with a claw. “I’ll say this. The Dalari and the Kurskins have a long and complex history. We’ve been both allies and enemies throughout ages, although our conflicts were never known by the humans who shared our planet.”

“So, you’ve always been here? How is that possible?”

“The world is big, far bigger than you would realize. Tell me, Ethan, do you know the shape of the world?”

Of course I do; it’s a sphere. “I haven’t put much thought into it, but my uncle once told me the earth was flat, like a plate.”

Prajio nodded his head sadly. “It seems nearly all your people believe this falsehood. You see, the world is round, like a ball. It rotates around the sun, just as Lunaria revolves around Erda.”

This knowledge would have blown Milton Musgraves's mind. “If what you are saying is true, how does it answer where you and the Dalari came from?”

Prajio held up a fist and pointed at one side. “Let’s say my fist is Erda. Humans live on this side.” He moved his finger to the back of his fist. “We, meaning the Kurskins and the Dalari, live on this side.”

My eyes went wide, and I wasn’t even faking it. Was this their backup story for those who didn’t buy heaven versus hell propaganda?

“So why are you here now? I asked.

“Because the Dalari are here. My people will not let them take over this land. It does not belong to them, nor does it belong to us. My people will push the Dalari back into the sea and force them to swim back to the other side of the world.”

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“If the Dalari came by sea, does that mean the Kurskins did too?”

He gave me a sly look. “Some secrets are better left unsaid, my friend. Perhaps someday, I can share the answer with you.”

A human waitress came by our table, and Prajio ordered some more poison while I settled for another glass of water, as I was still very much feeling the effects of that first drink.

“If the Kurskins are here to fight off the Dalari, why aren’t you helping?”

“Ah, another astute question.” Prajio downed his drink in one gulp and hissed through the burn. “I am helping in my own way, am I not? I am a bounty hunter who brings in some of the most dangerous criminals. Just today, I aided you. I am doing great things, all of which directly aid humanity.”

“Not to belittle your exceptional work, but I’ve heard rumors of Dalari acting in similar ways.” I hadn’t, but of course, there were Dalari in this world with a mindset similar to Prajio's.

“Are you familiar with the term psychological warfare?” he asked.

“No, you most definitely are not,” Val said helpfully, as I was just about to say ‘yes.’

“I’m afraid not. Please, enlighten me.”

“Psychological warfare is when a military force creates propaganda or tries to alter beliefs while reinforcing others. I suspect the Dalari you have heard about is acting on behalf of the Dalari High Command. They are sent out far from where the war is being fought to spread propaganda and possibly ingratiate themselves with a town’s population. Then, once the Dalari army comes knocking on their door, the humans will already have preconceived notions that the Dalari are noble, kind, helpful, and worthy of respect, just as the Dalari who aided their town in its time of need had been.”

“I understand,” I said and cocked an eyebrow. “So, you’re secretly working on behalf of the Kurskin forces to breed trust among strategic communities?”

He laughed. I was beginning to get used to the strange noise. “No, no, no. I am a freelancer and have no desire to join the wargames of my brethren.” He looked at me strangely for a moment as if trying to ascertain something about me. “To be honest, I disagree with Archons regarding levying humans for the war. They say they must because the Dalari are doing it, but as a Kurskin, I feel it is the duty of our kind to handle our battles without using others to accomplish victory.”

He shrugged. “I could never say such things to another of my kind, so I’d appreciate it if you kept that to yourself.”

I nodded. “I appreciate you sharing that with me. I wish I had the power to end this war right now. Already, far too many of my people have been lost to a war that isn’t theirs.”

“Isn’t theirs? Surely you don’t believe that. The Dalari invaded your coastal cities, subdued your kind, and claimed the land for themselves. Does that not make it your war?”

“You’re right, of course. This war belongs to us all.”

He nodded, mollified by my answer.

We continued to drink and talk for another hour before parting ways for the night. While our conversation was built on a lie, it was still useful for me. It was interesting to see the depth of the lies the lizards created so they could stay in the ‘theme’ of the game. Prajio was happy I wasn’t a member of the church or a believer in his divine provenance. It allowed him to connect to me on a more personal level.

He called himself a freelancer, which I knew meant he wasn’t here for the war at all. He was here to grow powerful and accumulate wealth. He was here to have fun.

Before we finally parted ways, he invited me to join him on a quest. He explained the job, and I said yes. After all, I needed the experience and had no problem with Prajio power-leveling me.

I found a tinkerer's shop off the road and sold the watch for forty gold. Not the seventy Delen had assured me of, but I didn’t care. I felt like I was filthy rich.

After I had some money, I found a nicer place to stay. It was still small, but the bed was well worth the price. I laid on it and couldn’t think of any good reason to get back up.

I had managed to escape from Prajio without shaking his hand. Instead, I gave him a toast and a friendly nod before leaving the bar.

I wanted Val’s input, but before I opened that can of worms, I had some notifications I needed to address. It had taken all my self-control to wait until I was somewhere alone to close out my quest and level up. I wondered if I had any achievements.

I started with the quest.

QUEST COMPLETE!

Lightning in a Bottle

XP: 250 points

I watched my experience bar shoot past level four and stopped about a quarter of the way to level five. I initiated my level up.

CONGRATULATIONS, JOHN MCCLANE. YOU HAVE REACHED LEVEL FOUR.

That familiar rush of warmth flowed through me, and my body glowed a light gold before fading away.

I shivered in pleasure and could tell that I had been improved. It was only a small change, but I could see its potential at a higher level. I was growing strong and faster each time I levelled up. It was incremental, but it was noticeable. I wondered how strong I’d be at level fifty.

YOU MAY SELECT ONE OF THE FOLLOWING SKILLS AND ABILITIES.

SILENT BUT DEADLY: I know this is a rehash, but you did some sneaky stuff, so you get it again. Take your victims by surprise. For three seconds, your actions will be completely silenced. Clap your hands, shout obscenities at your opponent, or move through a room without making a squeak. The possibilities are limitless! This skill can be used twice a day and has a one-minute cooldown.

POISONER: You almost killed a man with Valera root powder. He nearly overdosed, so technically, you poisoned him. POISONER moderately increases the strength of poisons and other malicious alchemics. Use your fist next time instead of a drug, and you won’t get lame skill choices like this.

The fuck?

DRUNKEN NINJA: The drunker you are, the stronger you become. Beware, it will take far more than just a single cup of ale to benefit from this passive, but if you get really sloshed, you’ll be able to lift a bear. You’ve been hitting the booze a little hard lately; let's be honest here.

My sub-mind was completely nuts. Or perhaps it just grew crazier the more it learned about me.

Obviously, I selected Silent But Deadly. I was very pleased to see it again as I planned on sneaking around a lot.

I had another notification about an achievement and let it pop.

NEW ACHEIVEMENT!

STORIED: You completed your first ‘organic’ quest. Unlike preordained or structured quests, organic quests are created naturally by the humans of this world. Congratulations on completing your first. This achievement unlocks the PING ability. PING can be used once every three days. When used, a light breeze will direct you toward the nearest available organic quest. The breeze will last for three hours.

I could see how PING would be a useful tool for many Players, but it was practically useless to me. I had Val. I’d have preferred the breeze to her, though.