Jimmy did his best not to show the pants-wetting fear he felt as Derrick punched a hole in a tree with his bare fist, bellowing in rage.

The Bloodletters’ leader was getting agitated with their lack of progress.

At first, Jimmy had felt like he had been handed the code to the nuclear football. He was over the moon. That bitch would pay. With five of the most notorious and bloodthirsty Coppers hunting her, she was as good as dead.

The nightmare would be over. Warren would forgive him and bring him back into the fold, and the Stolst gang would regain the throne as the strongest group in the area.

That all vanished the moment Jimmy met the Bloodletters.

He had always heard stories, but they were just that. Stories. Make-believe.

Only they weren’t.

If anything, the stories about the Bloodletters were tamer than the truth.

Jimmy had thought he was in control, that he could use the Bloodletters to exact the revenge he so desperately thirsted for.

Instead, the truth of why he had been given the power of the Bloodletters became clear.

Warren was afraid of them. By sending them out after an adversary that had been burning through their ranks like a wildfire, the odds were good that both problems would be solved at once.

The Emerald-eyed Demoness killing the Bloodletters was a distant possibility. It was five on one for crying out loud. Nobody’s aspects could be that good.

Nobody was that good, period.

But the odds were high that she would take a few of them out. That would curtail their growing strength. A strength that rivaled Warren’s own.

Where Warren struggled to balance personal power and political power, the Bloodletters needed no such balance. Their overwhelming strength drew tremendous support from within the ranks of the group.

Warren kept the group close, sending them on the best hunts, the hardest targets, and because he did that, he took part in their credit. Jimmy understood then that he was utterly out of his depth.

The Bloodletters tolerated Warren at best. They had no interest in leading, largely because they were bloodthirsty monsters who cared for nothing but the next kill.

However, with mounting losses caused by Warren’s mismanagement, the Bloodletters were gaining increasingly vocal support. If they were convinced that they wouldn’t need to lead but could depose Warren and still reap the benefits of the gang’s support…Jimmy didn’t want to entertain the thought any further.

My head would be the first on the chopping block.

Derrick glared at Jimmy. “You said she was here!”

Jimmy backed up until he was against a wall. That wall was named Harvey, an even bigger and more bloodthirsty man than Derrick. Jimmy swallowed hard, raising his hands pleadingly. “I said this was our last known sighting of her.”

“You calling me a liar, Jimbo?”

“No! Never. I just wanted to let you know we aren’t sure where she is. She doesn’t stick around, you know. Those who see her are usually busy running for their lives.”

Derrick frowned. “Cowards,” he spat.

Jimmy had stopped finding eyewitnesses to talk to. The Bloodletters considered anybody who fled from battle to be traitors.

If anybody knew what the Bloodletters did to them, nobody would ever come forward again with information. In a macabre way, it was fortunate that nobody ever learned of how they dealt with them. The Bloodletters left fewer witnesses than the Emerald-eyed Demoness.

“We should–”

“Why do we entertain this maggot?” Todd asked, shouldering into the clearing. “We’ve been following his lead for days and nothing! I’m beginning to think he doesn’t want this demoness found. Maybe he’s working for her?”

Jimmy shook his head so violently he could almost feel his brain rattling in his skull. “Never! I hate her more than anything! I’m the one who killed her friends–”

The looks the Bloodletters gave him had told him he had just screwed up worse than he could have imagined.

It wasn’t well known that he was the one who caused all this mess. Warren was the only one who knew the full story.

It had been pure luck that Jimmy was heading back to talk to Warren when he heard about the outpost attacks.

At that point, he had done everything he could to stick close to Warren’s side without actually being near him. Warren knew what he was up to. He had bided his time instead of sending Jimmy to his death. At least not without a weapon he could point at their enemy.

Jimmy shrunk as all five Bloodletters crowded around him. “What did you just say?” Derrick snarled. “You did this? You caused this woman to attack our family ?”

“What did Warren say?” Anthony asked.

Jimmy was jostled around like an urchin by Harvey. “He asked you a question, worm!”

“I didn’t think she’d find out!” Jimmy screamed, trembling. “I thought she left them!”

The Bloodletters looked at each other, a dark plan forming on their shovel-like faces. All five of them were Defenders, big and strong, with powerful aspects to back up their brutality.

There was little wonder why Warren was afraid of them.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Derrick asked the others.

A chorus of nods surrounded Jimmy. “What’s the plan?” he dared to ask.

“Warren said you were to be the boss, right?”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Jimmy didn’t know what they wanted, but he knew that if he showed fear, they’d rip him apart. He nodded tentatively, knowing in his bones that they were setting him up somehow.

“Then you’re going to lead our charge against the Demoness,” Derrick said.

There was something sinister about the way they said it that put the hairs up on the back of Jimmy’s neck. “I’ll do anything,” he proclaimed, trying to use bravado to bull his way through the problem.

“We were hoping you’d said that,” Todd said, slinging a thick arm around Jimmy’s shoulders. “Because we’re going to use you as bait! You’ll be the star of the show.”

Jimmy tried to wriggle free, but Todd’s grip was like iron. His arm squeezed Jimmy tightly. It felt like a sack of bowling balls pressed against his shoulders. “It’s only fair, Jimbo. You’re the one who started all this. Let’s dangle you out there for our dear friend. She’ll come running, and when she does…we’ll be waiting.”

“To save me?” Jimmy dared to hope.

The silence that met him was deafening.

“To save me before she kills me, right?”

The Bloodletters grinned at each other.

----------------------------------------

Mel crouched low in the brush, her [Hidden Mist] spreading out around her. A twig snapped somewhere in the forest, but she didn’t pay it any attention. Her target was right in front of her.

The deer with its glowing antlers was bent down to drink from the forest pond. On the northern side, a stepped waterfall fed the pool with crystal clear water.

Mel inched forward, as quietly as she could. The last time she found this creature, it had been spooked as she tried to kill it.

She had seen such a creature a few times since then, but never close enough to touch it. Mel had taken a different approach to learning about this new world since that first encounter.

Taking a page from Heath’s playbook, she watched and learned. With Mel’s Magi background, and her experiences with different forms of magic, she was able to make connections that would otherwise elude other people.

The deer wasn’t an enemy.

Nor was it a loot pinata, as she first thought.

It was an interplanar creature with a very unique sort of defense mechanism that the system co-opted for its own purposes. That was something Mel couldn’t understand, but then again, the first person who fully understood any Shard system would no doubt gain the power of a Kindred.

Everything had a difficulty attached to it. The system was designed to provide positive feedback loops around difficult encounters. Kill a big named monster that was stronger than normal? You get extra loot, maybe even a title. It all depends.

Slaughter a million easy horned rabbits? You barely move the needle in your progress to the next rank and wasted a bunch of time.

The deer was something else entirely. It was skittish to the extreme and was able to flee from even the fastest attacks.

Mel had seen people even faster than her, unable to attack the creature. The only time she had ever gotten close was when she used her mist to hide herself. Even then, she had spoiled the effect by lunging for it.

I got greedy.

Ever since, Mel couldn’t shake the question that popped into her head: what would happen if she didn’t hurt it, but instead just touched it?

If killing the deer was an incredible difficulty, prompting it to summon a portal that let out monsters, what would be considered even harder?

Touching it without the creature noticing.

The Ruuvo on the Shard Erlaq based their entire culture and warfare on a sliding scale of honor and difficulty. The greater difficulty, the greater honor you gained. In warfare, the most impressive feat was sneaking up on your enemy and touching them without the intent to harm or kill.

Mel had taken a long time to get used to that. Where she had come from, if you snuck up on somebody and gently touched the back of their neck, they’d probably electrocute you with a spell.

Even if they didn’t, there was a very good chance that your target would spin around and attack you. The only thing that would happen would be losing your tactical advantage.

For some reason, the deer made Mel think about the Ruuvo. There was a majesty to the beast. Its brown fur glittered with gold. Great branching crystalline horns at least twice its height pulsed with an inner light that Mel suspected it used for sensory purposes.

She froze and pressed herself to the soft dew-laden grass as the deer swung its head toward her. Mel held her breath and kept her gaze on the grass in front of her face.

After a few moments, the sensation of pressure vanished. She gave it a few seconds more before raising her head. The deer was leisurely drinking from the pond again.

Mel got to her feet, inching closer. Her goal was in sight, less than 10 feet away.

She was tempted to jump, to lunge, to do anything that would clinch victory, but she resisted the urge. Any sudden moves would break the spell and reveal her to the deer. Mel didn’t know how, but she could feel it with iron certainty.

The deer’s tail flicked nervously, but it didn’t stop drinking. Mel gently reached her hand forward. She paused, mere inches from the creature’s left flank.

The fur was shorter and uneven, as if it had been cut.

Now that she was much closer, Mel could see that there was a litany of small wounds all over the animal. Her own attack hadn’t hurt it all those days ago, but it had left a mark.

Guilt seized her heart in an iron cage. She saw all the near misses that hadn’t actually missed. The deer was fine as far as she could tell…but it had suffered.

Because of greed.

Mel abandoned her goal, which had been to touch its rump and try to claim some prize from it. She had only thought of her own feelings and desires. Not the creature’s.

Instead, Mel took out a [Small Health Potion] and gently slid around the deer until she was facing its side. What she had first taken for majestic golden flecks of fur, were instead small scars.

You poor thing, Mel thought, setting the bottle down in front of its foreleg. She didn’t make any sudden motion as she dismissed her [Hidden Mist].

The deer’s ears twitched and swiveled, as if suddenly aware of her presence. It didn’t react as she expected.

Deep blue eyes turned to regard her, horns glowing a verdant green. The deer regarded the bottle. A hoof pawed at it but couldn’t open it. It turned an imploring look on her.

Mel could hardly believe what she was seeing, but she didn’t shy away from helping the poor creature. She moved deliberately and slowly, picking up the potion and pouring its contents into the palm of her cupped hand.

The deer leaned down and lapped at the mixture from her hand, tickling her palm with its tongue.

Mel had a front-row seat as its fur grew in where it had been injured. Its many minor wounds closed up, but most impressive by far was what happened to its antlers.

They grew more branches, each section glowing brighter than before. Only then did Mel realize many of the rounded nubs were old fractures where the horns had been damaged or broken off.

Now they regrew into their former splendor.

Tempting fate, Mel reached up and stroked the deer’s cheek affectionately. “I’m sorry so many people hurt you. They don’t understand what they’re doing. I promise I won’t harm you.”

The deer nuzzled her hand gently.

“If any of them try to hurt you again, let me know. I’ll sort them out,” Mel promised.

The deer stared into her soul with its deep blue eyes and gave her a delicate bow. The deer’s horns came down like a fractal cage on either side of her, pulsing with power.

You earn the Blessing: [Blessing of the Hunt]

Before Mel could even read the prompt, a portal opened, and the deer darted through it. No monsters came out though.