By the time Entrails and his companions reached the ambush location, it was well around midday. The warrior settled behind a frozen boulder, where he could see narrow foottrack winding up the mountain. Here the path narrowed, hemmed in on both sides and overlooked by a series of short, rocky cliffs. A copse of thin, snow-laden pines needled around them, sparser this high up the mountain, but still enough to provide good cover.

  This was the battlefield Entrails had chosen. So long as Elder Hennen and the villagers kept their word and given the right directions, it would only be a matter of time before the enemy Shardsheekers arrived—three warriors and a mage.

  Entrails had positioned Roulez further up the path, behind a boulder of his own. Entrails himself wouldn’t stay hidden once the other shardseekers appeared, but it was important for Roulez to stay undetected until the right moment. The man’s rogue abilities would help with that.

  Daenica had found a way up to one of the flat cliffs above the path. From this vantage point, she’d have a good view of the battlefield and effectively be safe from the the three warriors in the other party. It was the perfect spot to target the enemy mage, who was Entrails’ only real concern. So long Daenica struck first and struck fast, however, hopefully she could contain the mage’s devastating magic attacks long enough for Entrails and Roulez to dispatch his fellows. If she wasn’t able to…

  Entrails brushed the thought from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for doubts. If everything went to plan, all their problems would be solved in one fell swoop—the enemy Shardseekers would finally be off their trail, and the Fallen Shard ripe for the taking. Still, as any adventurer worth their salt knew, anything could go wrong at any moment. Entrails just hoped it wouldn’t be today.

  He glanced up at the staggered cliffs on the other side of the path, as if expecting something. A gust of wind shipped the snow into a flurry, bringing a curtain of white down over the path. Entrails settled into his position and rested his great sword against one shoulder, with the tip down into the snow. He produced a black whetstone from his inventory and set to work on the gleaming blade.

  Nothing like a fresh fine edge to make a body bleed.

***

Before long, the four enemy shardseekers came trudging up the snow-swept path, picking their way through the trees and boulders. Entrails was pleased to see them arranged in a typical formation: two warriors in front and one bringing up the rear, the mage sandwiched and safe between. They were guarded, but not overly tentative—the warriors didn’t even have their weapons drawn.

  Inwardly, Entrails thanked Elder Hennen. Like he’d asked, the village leader had directed the rival party this way, but mentioned nothing of the ambush. The unwitting fools probably thought they’d be getting the jump on Entrails and his two companions… Oh how mistaken they’d be. Entrails could’ve smiled, if his cheeks weren’t so damn cold. He wrapped his hands around the greatsword’s grip, his fingers finding the familiar grooves in the leather wraps.

  When his foes were 20 meters away, Entrails rose from behind the boulder and walked out onto the path. The group paused at his sudden appearance, but seconds later the sound of scraping steel rent the muffled silence of the mountain pass.

  “You’ll pay for what you did,” shouted one of the lead warriors.

  “Oh sure,” said Entrails, in a mocking tone. In their last skirmish, he’d made a point to slay their healer. Apparently, that had struck a nerve. “My condolences about your walking health potion, but really you should get one that doesn’t break so easily.”

  The insult seemed to strike a nerve. The other warrior in front banged his axe against his shield, and both began advancing. The third stayed behind to defend the mage, as Entrails expected. They were playing right into the palm of his hand.

  Entrails didn’t wait for the pair to reach him. He rushed forward to meet them, giving a battle cry as he did so. This was nothing more than the signal to his companions—as soon as the yell echoed throughout the mountains, a sphere of wind descended upon the mage. When it had fallen into place, ice and snow were gathered into the swirling currents, trapping them magic-user inside and preventing him from engaging in the fight.

  A wide swing from Entrails’ giant sword caused the two warriors to step back, outside of the sword’s deadly reach. The reckless swing was only meant to keep the attackers from advancing any further—this part of the path was narrowed by a cliff wall on one side, and a mess of cracked boulders on the other. If Entrails worked the terrain properly, his opponents wouldn’t be able to circle to take his back, where he was most vulnerable.

  The warriors were clearly experienced and prepared. Instead of wildly rushing ahead, they approached Entrails with patience, knowing time was on their side. The white-bearded warrior carried a bastard sword, the other an axe and shield. These were Northlanders for sure, garbed in furs and armor, well-equipped for the alpine climate. Their facial hair was long and rugged, protecting their skin from the biting cold. Both pushed forward in coordination, death written in their narrowed eyes.

  “What’s the matter boys? It’s two on one. Scared?” Entrails said, trying to goad one of his assailants into a rash decision he could exploit.

  The response came in a few measured attacks testing Entrails’ defenses. The white-beard stabbed before falling back, the other feinting to get a reaction. Entrails held his ground, parried the attacks and offered a few counters of his own. He managed a glance behind them, but saw that Roulez had not yet engaged the third warrior yet.

  Where was the damn rogue? He should’ve emerged as soon as Daenica’s Wind Sphere fell upon the mage. What was he waiting for?! If the mage, currently deep in concentration, was able to dispel Daenica’s attack while the third warrior was still alive to defend him… Roulez would be the first target.

  Entrails cursed, hoping Daenica’s channeling held. Otherwise Roulez would be annihilated.

  When a sudden gust of wind blew across the rocky cliff above, sending a white sheet of snow across the trail, Entrails caught a dark shape dart out from Roulez’s hiding spot. That’s why he’d waited—the rogue used the curtain of snow as cover for his attack. Entrails wasn’t sure if Roulez had scored a critical, but when the snow dispersed, the rogue was locked in combat with the third warrior, his twin daggers working furiously.

  Too occupied with enemies of his own, Entrails turned his attention back to his own situation. The shield-bearer was trying to flank, so Entrails struck out with a few heavy swings, forcing the man to block or be cut in half. Just as he tried to press his attack, however, the other warrior darted in with stabs of his own. Entrails tilted his blade parallel to the ground, intercepting the blade and lifting it high. A quick kick to the man’s chest sent him stumbling backwards.

  Entrails growled. It wasn’t the first time he’d fought two-on-one, but this duo was too good, too practiced. Each time he tried to focus the shield-bearer, his companion increased the fury of his attacks. And if Entrails switched targets, the shield-bearer used his Bash ability to keep Entrails from setting his feet for a power attack. Though so far he’d been able to avoid any serious wounds, there wasn’t time for this.

  Back across came his greatsword, intercepting an axe strike from the shield-bearer. He threw it wide then stepped forward, shoulder first, throwing the bulk of his weight into his assailant’s shield. The force nearly made the man fall over backwards, which left an opening—but just as Entrails brought up his blade for an attack, there was the other warrior pressing forward with the tip of his bastard sword.

  Suddenly, another Wind Sphere dropped onto the sword-wielder, trapping him inside. Entrails whipped around. On top of the cliff behind them, Daenica had both arms outstretched, one towards the warrior, the other still upon the mage. High level psychokinesis—the woman never ceased to amaze! If they got through this alive, Entrails knew she’d make a perfect recruit for the Enclave… but that was a thought for another time.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Knowing Daenica wouldn’t be able to channel both spheres for long, Entrails took full advantage of the moment. The shield-bearer faced him, his expression less confident than before. Entrails charged up and stomped the ground, sending a shockwave rumbling forward and disrupting the shield-bearer’s balance. Suddenly unsteady on his feet, the man was unable to keep his shield up, wobbling for just a second.

  Entrails—already in motion—had been waiting for this opening.

  With his giant sword high overhead, Entrails used Heavenly Cleave, a brutal straight-down attack which struck the vulnerable warrior directly in the collarbone—and continued down into his upper torso. When Entrails yanked out the sword, his opponent fell back, nearly cut in two.

  The timing was perfect, because just then the wind sphere fell away and the white-bearded warrior rushed forward, roaring. “You… killed… my… brother!” the man yelled, spittle flying from his open mouth, his words punctured with a series of quick, furious stabs. The sheer ferocity of the warrior’s attack caught Entrails off-guard, and he barely managed to parry the strikes that came in hard, first high, then low, then high again. Though Entrails prevented the blade from finding any vital areas, he still winced as more than a couple wounds opened up across his shoulders and arms. The cold stung as it found his flesh.

  Entrails’ final parry was so hard that it sent his opponent’s sword flying out wide. Entrails stepped forward and snapped the hilt of his sword out, the pommel cracking into the other warrior’s face. The man stumbled back, clutching his nose with his free hand, as blood began to stain his frosty beard.

  This time too, Entrails was ready.

  He angled his blade parallel to the ground, and with a twist of his whole body, he cut across brutally, his blade catching the other man’s feeble attempt at a parry and sending it flying out of his hand. The warrior cursed through his broken face and wasted no time producing a dirk from his belt. Shardseeker to the bone, this one. Entrails knew the grizzled warrior wouldn’t back down for anything and respected him for it. Defiant to the last, like a true Northlander.

  Well, Entrails was more than willing to give him an honorable death.

  The dirk stood no chance at blocking Entrails’ powerful attacks, and the warrior wasn’t nimble enough to dodge them all. Within seconds his health was gone, his armor full of deep gashes. The doomed man flung the dirk at Entrails’ head as a last resort, which he knocked aside easily. The warrior dropped to his knees, knowing, and accepting, what was coming.

  Entrails obliged. A final, well-placed slash sent the man’s head tumbling across the snow.

  There was no time for Entrails to catch his breath. Ahead of him, Daenica’s Wind Sphere had finally dissipated, releasing the enemy mage from the globe of swirling air, snow, and ice. That she’d been able to channel it for so long was a miracle, but now Roulez, still locked in combat with the third warrior, was a sitting duck. The rogue knew it, too. He pressed his attack in a frantic attempt to finish the man, who was already hobbled and bleeding from a dozen wounds where Roulez’s daggers had found their mark.

  But now it was the mage’s turn to unleash his abilities.

  Ice burst from the ground and coiled around Roulez’s legs, snaring him into place. A dark cloud appeared in the sky above the cliff and wicked shards of ice began raining down upon Daenica’s position. Even if the sorceress had any mana left, which was doubtful, she was effectively zoned out of the fight. The last warrior, still alive with a sliver of health, limped hurriedly towards Roulez’s immobile form, his shortsword trained upon the rogue.

  Entrails began running, but he knew he was too far away. Snared as he was without the ability to dodge, Roulez made an easy target. As he ran towards the battle, Entrails shouted, hoping to distract the advancing warrior, but the noise only seemed to make him limp faster. The wounded man was nearly upon Roulez, with his sword raised high for a killing blow—but just as he was about to strike, something caused him to stumble backwards.

  He looked down at the arrow protruding from his chest.

  Another found its mark. Then a third.

  One would’ve been enough. The man collapsed into the snow, dead.

  More arrows found the mage, who was channeling and had no defense prepared for the unexpected missiles. His blue robes were soon pincushioned with dark shafts and fletching. The air fell calm again, and the ice around Roulez’s feet shattered. With a final groan of surprise, the mage died just like his companion: face down in the snow.

  “Fuck me,” said Roulez, ducking as he found cover behind a boulder, unsure of the source of arrows.

  Along the inclined ground to the other side of the trail, a dozen villagers emerged from behind the snow-covered trees. Entrails wasn’t sure how they’d gotten there unseen, but then again, this was their territory. Now they picked their way down the slope, with Cadderly in the lead.

  “About damn time,” Entrails growled, as the man came over to shake his hand.

  “Forgot where you said to meet,” said Cadderly, shrugging. “Sorry. Still did our part.” The hunter pointed to the dead bodies. “We good?”

  Entrails snorted. He knew the villagers had waited to see which group had the upper hand before acting. Shrewd survivalists, alright. They didn’t want to get caught on the wrong side of a battle. “Yeah, fine. We’re good,” he said.

  “Going to the shard now?”

  “Looks that way.”

  “Great. Um, listen, just watch your back, okay? These are wild lands…” said Cadderly, mysteriously. Before Entrails could ask him to elaborate, the hunter gave a slight bow, then turned and began barking orders, directing his group towards the fallen shardseekers.

  “Well aren’t you just full of surprises,” said Roulez, shaking ice from his boots as he walked up. “Guess your little deal wasn’t worth sharing with the party, huh?”

  “Didn’t want to get your hopes up. In case they… didn’t show.”

  “Right. Sure.”

  Daenica emerged from further down the trail, having climbed down from her purchase atop the cliff. She looked unharmed, but clearly exhausted. Entrails took one look and knew there’d be no more battles for her today.

  “You okay?” said Entrails.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… drained.”

  Roulez spoke up again. “So! Now that we’re all one happy family again, let’s loot these bastards!” The rogue rubbed his hands together. “That was no green troupe, they’re bound to have some good shit.”

  “Sorry. Part of the deal with the villagers. They get the spoils.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Entrails shook his head.

  “Oh, I see, we’re giving away loot to NPCs now. Makes sense,” said Roulez. “Amazing. So glad I joined this party!”

  “Right, because you had so many other opportunities,” Entrails retorted. When he’d showed up in East Denning, a fortified outpost in the middle of the Northlands, most shardseeking parties had already formed and departed. Those leftover were generally bottom of the barrel, players who weren’t deemed worthy enough to be recruited into any of the more serious groups.

  Yet another thing Entrails had to thank Max for. The little detour with the boy had cost him finding a good squad. Still, he’d found Daenica, so it wasn’t a complete loss. Entrails had high hopes for her; the Enclave were always in need of those with her set of skills.

  “Whatever,” said Roulez, with a dismissing wave of his hand. “But this fallen shard better be fucking good.”

  “Hear, hear,” said Daenica, weakly.

  Entrails grunted. On that, at least, they could all agree. “C’mon then,” he said, starting up the trail. “I think we’ve earned it after that.”

  As his companions fell in behind him, Roulez grumbling about this or that, Entrails’ thoughts returned to Cadderly’s warning. Watch your back, the man had said. A less experienced player might take those words to be nothing more than friendly, general advice, but Entrails knew better. NPCs didn’t drop hints like that every day... He was sure there was some truth to the hunter’s vague note of caution.

  He considered suggesting to pitch camp, but they were close now and there was still hours of daylight left. Though they’d all sustained some minor injuries, everyone in the party was still in decent shape. Who knows how much longer they’d have before another shardseeking group came searching for the shard? It was only a matter of time.

  No, they were too close to their reward now. Whatever dangers awaited them, if any, Entrails was sure it could be dealt with. It was a risk, but he’d learned long ago that Aletheia was no place for those who had no stomach for risk. Besides, if he ordered them to pitch camp now, Roulez might throw a fit.

  Just in case, Entrails produced three health pots from his inventory. He tossed one each to Roulez and Daenica, while keeping one for himself.

  “Expecting another battle? Something else you’re not telling us?” said Roulez.

  “Just shut up and drink the potion, Roulez,” said Daenica.

  Entrails couldn’t help but grin.