It takes me a while to be able to hop as freely as Shadow does naturally, and takes me a while to be able to vault from branch to branch, and tree to make my way as stealthily as possible through the woods. After about five minutes of hopping from tree to tree, I stop. Conversation on the air. The sound of metal on metal dinging.

Through the veil of leaves and trees, I begin to see the woods begin to thin out, and I see the shimmering surface of a great body of water. After a few minutes of hopping through the branches, the woods break in front of the stony banks of a great lake within a great basin surrounded by stony, pointy peaks, capped in white. Five roaring cascades fell from five great masses of land that hung dozens of feet in the air. They were connected by long rivers that undulated in the air like shimmering serpents. Boats ride these rivers, and up and down the great cascades on either side of them. Looking at this, for the first time since that evening in December, I feel as if I’m actually in another world, and not just a simulation of one.

The boats that rode the waterfall down, rowed to the bank into a canal that lead into, what I suppose, is the outpost. The term, ‘outpost,’ is a misnomer, however. “Town,” would be a better description just from the sheer size of it. Wooden palisades surround it and stretch on for a couple of hundred feet until it terminated at the edge of the plateau, and a couple of feet into the waters of the lake. Watch towers line the walls, and I can see the silhouettes of guards in them; mostly keeping an eye out on the lake, the boats rowing into the outpost, and some keeping an eye on the tree line. I hop up the tree, so I could get a better view of the outpost.

Shingled rooftops jut out from the palisade, and black smoke curls out of red brick chimneys. These houses, however, were only built in the space right beyond the wooden wall. Further in the town, I catch glimpses of workshops, and canvas tents staked in the muddy grounds. Countless figures move around inside. However, I can’t shake the feeling that there are fewer than there should be in a town this large. As if it were only half full. Even if I take into account the ones I ran into on the path with the ‘apostle,’ it would not make up the difference. Where were the others? My mind flashes to the great army that the

White Wolf lead. Did he pull forces from the other doors around? If so, then he must have a way to move between the fog walls, or was he the ‘boss,’ creature of a ridiculously high-level door? Even so, then he would still need the ability to move between doors and take others with him. For what reason was he gathering the army, if not to invade Earth? But why in Arville, of all places? Questions that I can’t answer at the moment, but will occupy my mind nonetheless.

Now how do I destroy this town as quickly as possible? Fire? No. It would create a cloud of smoke that could be seen for miles. Water? No. None of my water spells could do much. Earth Magic is my only option, I suppose, and I know just what to do. On the far end of the outpost/town, one of the pointed peaks looms, if I used Upheaval at the peak. Casting a dark shadow over it. Ah, how appropriate. I follow the tree line around the outpost, keeping to the shadows until I reach the edge of the cliff. I look up. A large tower stands at the very top and a large brazier at the top of that. There’s a small trail leading up to its peak. No doubt they use it as kind of a lookout. I stay in cat form; the light was low enough that I could probably make it to the top without alerting whatever was up there. Hopefully. I know something is there from the aroma of cooking meat.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Halfway up the trail, I hear a whistle. I jump to the side as an arrow breaks against the ground. The ratman at the top had found me and was currently nocking another arrow. I hope he only thinks of me as some form of animal, at the moment, otherwise, he might sound an alarm. Another arrow, and I hop to the side while sprinting toward him. Can I cast magic in this form? Let’s try.

Earthen Spike. I think.

Immediately mana begins to flow up my back legs and out my front. A second later, a spike of packed earth and stone grows in between the legs of the ratman, and pierces it through the groin. It groans a little, and its black, beady eyes flutter as red blood begins to curl its way down to pool at the base of the spike. I shift back into human form, shove it to the ground, and end its suffering with another earthen spike through its head, I look around the small hilltop lookout for a moment, and nearly vomit. Something that confirmed the fears I’ve had ever since seeing the red collar buried beneath the debris. On a metal spit, over a burning fire, was the slowly roasting, slowly turning, and already nibbled torso of a human man. Suddenly, those missing people reports I’ve seen online, and posted up on the lamp posts around town, came to mind. Have they all met the same fate? What of Jenna’s niece? Was she here? Or was she behind another door in town? What doors were near the motel? Ah...the one in the abandoned bowling alley. I’ll go right there after this. I hope she’s still alive.

I climb the tower and look down into the town. I have to make sure that by burying the town, I wouldn’t be killing any prisoners that these...monsters, might have held. Even from this distance, I could see groups of moving, bald creatures moving around within the outpost. Being led to and out of the boats that idled at the end of the canal in the middle of the ‘outpost,’ in chains and rags. Emaciated, bruised and scoured, they walk like living dead.

Were they humans? I couldn’t tell from this distance, but they were, obviously, prisoners. There was no debate. I couldn’t just bury the outpost. I have to free those prisoners first. Ah, I should have asked for help from the others. Can I do this before midnight? Can I do this before the ‘apostle,’ returns? Regardless of the answers to these questions, I must free them. I know this. Deep down I know this. There was no question about it; I have to make sure that they were free from the bonds of these monsters. Maybe it is the burgeoning hero complex that I've been nursing for the last couple of weeks, or maybe it's a deeper calling in myself. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror any longer if I ignored them. If, in the process of freeing them, I run into some hiccups? So be it. So be it. I push my wand back into my pocket, and slip down the edge of the tower, and hurry down the path; shifting into Shadow's form as I take back to the branches to initiate my attack.