His journey through Jaskar resulted in several alarmed faces. A man carrying a dead body on his back was not the most common of sights in the dark city. On more than one occasion, the passing pedestrians ran in the opposite direction of Clay's approaching form. Despite the grisly visage they formed for the citizens of Jaskar, no guards came to inquire the nature of his business.

Eventually, Clay came to the familiar sight of the hunter's guild. Clay set the body out on the ground beside the guild hall's door and went in.

Inside the familiar sights and sounds of the hunter's guild greeted the golem.

Mindy sat behind the reception desk flipping through paperwork. She looked up from the papers at the door opening. Recognition crossed her face.

"Hi, Clay," she said excitedly.

"Hello, Mindy."

"I was worried after you left. Did you have any luck with the tunnels?"

Clay nodded. He didn't want to go into detail about his efforts and waved the young woman to follow him. "I have Hamor."

Mindy stood up with alarm. "You have him?"

"Dead," Clay stated flatly.

The hunter's guild receptionist followed Clay out into the street.

"Wow," she whispered. "You got him."

Clay nodded again.

"That is one big dwarf," Mindy said as she looked between Clay and the corpse.

"Alright. Give me a few minutes to inform the guild master. He'll have to examine the body personally before I can pay you.

As they reentered the guild hall, Mindy waved Clay towards the dining room. "Just take a seat while I get everything taken care of. The meal's on the house."

Clay left the woman as she went about her business. He took a seat at an empty table as the barmaid came up to him with a mug of ale and a plate of meat and tubers.

Clay took a swig of the ale. The drink had a bitter astringency to it as it flowed over his tongue and down his throat. The golem took a mouthful of the root vegetables as he brought a hand to his abdomen. He felt the cracks in his stone flesh through his armor. He'd taken some serious damage from the large dwarf before he'd finally managed to put him down.

Clay recalled the fiery sword he'd used to kill Hamor. Pyromancy was a powerful magic. The flame had been so warm and familiar. He had used his own soul as fuel for the fire. Clay wondered at the implications of the magic. Was it more dangerous than it seemed?

Finishing his meal, Clay watched Mindy approach from the front of the building. An older male human walked in through the door and gazed meaningfully in Clay's direction before going up the stairs.

"Alright, it's confirmed. You have officially completed the B rank assignment to take out Hamor of the Black Bishop gang." Mindy smiled at the golem. "Congratulations, you did an extraordinary job."

"Thanks," Clay replied, absentmindedly rubbing the wound on his chest. The mission hadn't been without risk.

"Come with me and I'll give you your reward."

The two of them walked up to the receptionist's desk. Mind stepped behind it and unlocked one of the drawers.

The young woman counted out the currency that she procured from the desk. "Six thousand dinal for you, Clay."

"Thank you," the golem answered as he took the money.

Mindy noticed how Clay favored his side. "You should get some rest upstairs. There's no need to run out anymore tonight," she said with concern.

"You're right." Clay nodded, turning towards the stairs.

"Good night, Clay." She called after his departing form.

Clay walked up the stairs and found the room reserved for him. Entering the room, Clay closed the door behind him.

He took off his sword and drew the blade free of its scabbard. The sword had snapped in half during his fight with Hamor. The big sledgehammer the dwarf had used had blown through the weapon as though it hadn't even been there to defend him. He'd need a new one from the blacksmith.

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Setting the sword aside, Clay drew his chainmail vest over his head. The motion proved more difficult than the golem had expected as his arm sagged over his wound.

Eventually stripping the mail from his chest, the golem examined his side. The damage was severe. The cracks in his torso expanded out from a central crater. Powdered clay scattered across the floor, no longer held back by the metal skin he'd worn over his tunic.

Despite the damage, the wound appeared to be sealing itself. Some of the cracks farther from the central damage site were already scarring over.

Clay was relieved to see that his body could heal itself.

Examining the chain mail vest, Clay noticed that many of the rivulets that had borne the assault had shattered. The broken chains left a gaping hole in the side of his iron armor. Hamor had done some serious damage before Clay had put him down.

Exhausted by the ordeal, Clay stripped off the last of his armor and lay on the bed. He allowed his mind to drift as he thought about all the things he'd been through since his first moments with Roland.

The perpetual gloom of the Orgas plains was practically all he knew. Roland had told him he needed to come down to this world after he'd awoken. That his body needed to be baked in the flames of the vent that he dove into. But, Clay wanted to find the man once more and he needed to return to Purgamous to search him out.

Thinking about what he'd need to do from here on out, Clay drifted into a semi-conscious sleep state.

The sound of wet mud being glopped into place reached his ears. Over him, a hooded man was molding the mud into form.

"Soon my friend," the man said as he continued his work.

"Soon..."

He couldn't hear the words that followed. Trying harder to catch the faint words that Roland was saying, he noticed that he was alone. He was at the hunter's guild.

The sound of people talking downstairs was rising through the floor.

Clay lay there, eyes open as he listened to the murmur of voices rising from below.

He tried to remember his dream. It had seemed important, what Roland had been saying. But, the more desperately he tried to grasp the dissipating memory the faster the dream fled from him.

Lying down and hearing the murmur from downstairs, Clay conceded the loss of his dream. Sitting up, the golem clutched his side. The fissures in his abdomen reminded Clay of where he was.

Looking down at his side he realized that the wound had healed somewhat while he slept. No longer was the powdered stone falling from his chest. The cracks had scarred over. He still felt a dull ache from the wound, but was no longer worried that it wouldn't recover.

Standing up, Clay put on his vest of iron mail. His fingers poked through the hole in the armor. He needed to replace some of his equipment.

Strapping on his sword and putting on his gauntlet, Clay walked to the door. It was time to see the blacksmith.

Clay passed the receptionist as he left the guild hall. Mindy had finished her shift and gone home while he'd slept.

The street held the familiar gloom of perpetual night. He still had not figured out how the denizens of the city tracked the passage of time in the oppressive dark.

Consulting his map, Clay plotted his course to the blacksmith. This time, the journey came easily. His familiarity with the city growing.

The purple Lightstone used to illuminate the city made the shadows flee as the twinkling light danced before his eyes.

Quickly finding himself on the right street, Clay walked up to the blacksmith's store and entered.

"Welcome," came the man's voice.

Clay nodded his head at the man.

"Ah, it's you again," the blacksmith said familiarly. "What can I do for you today?"

Clay pulled his sword free of its scabbard, showing it to the man.

"What..." The man's voice trailed off.

"I had a rough encounter with it. I'd like to get a new one," Clay said, not wanting to discuss further his run-in with Hamor.

"Yes, of course. What will your price range be today."

Clay thought about the money he'd procured for his hunt. He didn't want to spend it all at the blacksmith shop, and he still needed a new vest. He quoted a number and was shown a similar blade to the one he'd broken.

"I'll need a new vest as well, steel."

The man flashed a professional smile and found him a new chain mail vest to go along with his sword.

Trading his used-up equipment as scrap, Clay finalized the purchase and left the smiling blacksmith.

Back on the city streets, Clay headed for the hunter's guild.

Entering the guild hall, Clay nodded to the male receptionist and found a seat in the dining hall.

As he waited for the barmaid to bring him something to drink, he heard a familiar voice.

"Clay, how are you doing my friend?"

The human earnestly walked up to the seated golem.

"Hello, Cassia," Clay said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"So, I heard you took on a B-rank mission all by yourself," the earnest man said expectantly. "Did you really take out Hamor?"

Clay nodded, rubbing his side. "Yes."

"Outstanding!" the man said exuberantly. "This calls for a celebration, on me."

Cassia waved down the barmaid and ordered a round of drinks, as well as plates of meat.

"Well, I haven't been quite as busy as you since we took care of those crimson dart frogs. But, I have gotten some work done with my brewer's guild quests," the man said excitedly.

The waitress set down a pair of mugs as Cassia went on.

"You remember how I was harvesting glands from the frogs?"

Clay nodded as they both took a swig from their ales.

Cassia gulped loudly. "Well, I learned a recipe for a sticky grenade using those glads."

The drow pulled out a milky white vile and showed it to the golem.

"This will immobilize just about anything it comes in contact with. I'm looking forward to putting it to use."

A pair of steaming plates were laid out before them. The pair of men dug in.

"Anyways, congratulations on your mission," Cassia said. "I hope you'll take me along on your next mission."

As they ate another person came up to their table.

Clay looked up to see the golden hair of a young woman cascading out from under her hood. Green eyes peered out from under the hood.

"Have you heard of the ascent?"