Morning came with the sound of battle outside the temple. Ethan woke with a start, finding the sleeping area empty. Jumping from his comfortable bedroll, he cast [Summon Telbarantis] before running outside. There he found Targe and Twist, standing over the bodies of three orcs.

“Rank 0,” Targe said, spotting the Caller. “Guess they don’t like people stomping around their area.”

“Let’s hope they’re all Rank 0,” Ethan said.

Twist explained that the orcs were scouts, like the ones that attacked Ethan when he arrived in this world. Scouting behaviors for monsters wasn’t normal, but this seemed pointed. It was as though the orcs were looking for the adventurers. That was just a suspicion the Caller had. He hadn’t forgotten about the strange markings on the temple. Or the urgency that Lucantele displayed. He couldn’t help but feel as though they were missing a piece of the puzzle.

As the group packed up for the journey, foregoing their tea in favor of watered wine with dried meat, he considered the facts. From what he’d learned, smarter monsters meant there was at least a sub-boss pushing them forward. Perhaps even a boss monster, considering the Fangstone orcs hadn’t been disturbed in quite some time. As new adventurers themselves, Twist and Targe had little to add to the theories. No matter how many Ethan put forth.

Tulip was happy to get out of the temple. She stretched her legs after Targe led her out of the stone building, nibbling on greenery as they went. Luca claimed she was vital to their plan, but it revealed another fact about the Great Spirit of Hope. The [Orc Dungeon] was out of his range. Meaning his realm of influence in the mortal world was minimal.

The group set off from the temple. Ethan glanced back at the place as they went, feeling the influence of Luca drop with every step. From the temple, heading south, the landscape dipped. A valley ran east to west through the area, a place that segmented the mountain range and the temple’s area. While it wasn’t treacherously deep, it still provided a challenge for travel. At the bottom of the valley, several hours into their journey, the party stopped to rest.

Slightly southeast of their position, smoke rose into the air. As Twist made tea, they discussed the possibility of orcs in that direction.

“How else are we going to find the dungeon?” Targe asked with a shrug. “If not for the signals burned by the damned monsters themselves.”

“Convenient,” Twist said. “We’ll make the good stuff.”

Twist had several satchels of fine tea provided by the good people of Oudsted. Not the normal stuff that they used daily, but the good stuff. The stuff used by the duke himself. It wasn’t much more fancy than the normal tea. But the manufacturer had put pieces of dried citrus peels and crystalline chunks of sugar in the mix. When brewed, even with a breeze blown by the valley, the air filled with the smell of black tea and citrus fruits.

Instead of stopping to drink their tea, Twist poured everyone a cup and packed his magic fire up. The group carried their cups and sipped them along the way. Several minutes later, the Rogue stowed his copper cup away and ranged ahead of the group. Despite Tulip’s size, she was far quicker than the donkey over rough land.

Twist jogged from up ahead, jabbing a thumb back from the way he came. “Not monsters. You’ll laugh when you see what.”

Instead of revealing what was up ahead, Twist simply led the way. Up a rise, and around a cliff face, the group entered a camp. A camp belonging to mortals.On the other side of a blazing fire, sitting with a stupid smile on his face, Radiant waved to the approaching group.

“Warm yourselves by my fire,” he said, laughing. “Figured we would have seen you guys here.”

Pit stood, looking off from the cliff. He didn’t turn to acknowledge the group. Not even a grunt when they greeted him.

“Anything worth note?” Targe asked, coming to stand near the fire.

Radiant rose to his feet, gesturing to the looming Fangstone Mountains. “Well, we know the orcs are in the mountains. Not a surprise, everyone already knew that. Have you seen their scouting parties?”

“We have,” Ethan said.

“Odd, right?” Radiant asked. “We have a theory about a boss monster, or a sub-boss monster controlling the horde.”

“That was our thought,” Targe said.

Radiant walked to the cliff’s edge, staring out over the valley with Pit. “Means we’re dealing with a dungeon that’s been lingering for a while. Likely deep in the mountains.”

“We agree. But our quarry is a low-level dungeon. Near the mountain’s base,” Twist said.

Radiant pointed again, gesturing to the far side of the valley. “The crag makes a fine marker.”

Ethan narrowed his sight on the place where he’d pointed, trying to commit it to memory. There was a rise of stone near there, stabbing skyward. “Thanks for the help.”

“No problem. We’re not moving in to engage with the orcs. Just scouting. Safer that way.”

“Just mind the scouts,” Targe said. “We were attacked this morning. Near Lucantele’s temple.”

“Oh, my. I wanted to visit the Great Spirit’s temple while we were in the area. Could you point me in the right direction?”

“Far side of the valley,” Ethan said, pointing northward. He took another sip of his tea.

Radiant watched where Ethan pointed for a only a moment before allowing his gaze to linger on the cup. He opened his mouth as though to speak but paused before continuing. “Tea? This far out?”

“Want a cup?” Twist asked.

The group sat around the fire, the kettle resting on smoldering coals. Twist would take any chance to make tea, even if he’d just drank a cup. How the man didn’t need to take more bathroom breaks was beyond Ethan, but he was selfish in the endeavor. When the Rogue poured out tea again, he was happy to take another cup. But it was a fine thing to delay their dive into the [Orc Dungeon]. A slice of peace before battle.

Targe took the chance to grill his captive audience. He wanted Radiant’s opinion on the best god to pledge himself to, and what that implied. Service to a god, unlike service to the Great Spirits, was more binding. The gods expected their disciples to follow a code of ethics, and would often downgrade the cores of those who didn’t follow them.

Ethan didn’t care about that nonsense. Unless the gods made exceptions for circumstances, they weren’t worth following. Blind faith had no place in his life, and he’d actively refuse binding himself to any of the gods. The two Great Spirits he’d met were reasonable beings. They exemplified their aspects but asked nothing of their worshipers. Faith didn’t belong in the pantheon of spirits. Service, perhaps, but not faith. Not a blind devotion to… what? Even if that was the case, devotion to hope didn’t sound bad. Neither did devotion to fertility.

The gods and the spirits were in different realms.

But Ethan wouldn’t voice his objections. Targe seemed set on taking a god-related core, and he wouldn’t stop him. If it meant the man had a stronger tank core, all the better. They’d deal with the consequences of smiting later. Creating another situation like Void, perhaps.

“Thank you for the tea,” Radiant said, offering a bow.

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“Yeah, need any supplies?” Ethan asked, gesturing to the giant beetle.

“We’re set on those,” Radiant said, patting his pack on the ground. “We made the mistake of going out under-prepared before. Right, Pit?”

“Right.”

Twist, Targe, and Bells left Radiant’s camp feeling far better about their situation. They weren’t alone out here. Adventurers were taking the orcs seriously. They’d learned there were other adventuring parties out here, scouring the hills around the mountains for orcs. If they kept that up for a while, the orcs would be pushed back to the mountains.

Targe led Tulip by her reins. He shook his head at the thought. “Might cause some problems, but it's a good start. If the orcs all retreat to the mountain, we might have a harder time scouring it.”

They pushed across the valley, finding their way to the craggy peak by midday. The group didn’t rest, sending Twist ahead to scout the area for the dungeon. Ethan and Targe pushed east of the crag, circling around to spot an orcish scouts. While there were no scouts, the shifting wind brought the smell of a campfire. Blowing from the crag itself, this wasn’t Radian’t fire. Either another adventuring camp, or orcs.

Ethan cast [Summon Lucantele], sending Luca to range ahead. He got a flash of sensations from the spirit. A barrier. Monsters roaming around that place. Then danger, causing the spirit to rush back. Twist appeared shortly after that, catching up to the party. The Rogue relayed information that Targe and Bells had expected. There was an orc encampment around the dungeon.

“Palisade wall. Guards, patrols… looks strangely like a mortal settlement,” Twist said.

Targe led Tulip behind a cluster of stone. Between them and the camp was a dense forest. Thick enough to hide their beetle of burden as they assaulted the camp.

“Numbers?” the Fighter asked.

“Hard to say. Fewer than 50.”

Ethan choked on his spit.

“That’s hardly encouraging.”

“A mingle of Rank 0 and Rank 1. We need to test their defenses,” Twist said.

Targe nodded, finding a tree to tie off his beetle. “Agreed. We’d know if there was a boss or sub-boss present. They’d have noticed us out in their territory. Let’s pull a few away from the walls and see what the response is.”

This was unlike any scenario Ethan had imagined. Targe was applying dungeon tactics to a camp out in the open. How would they know if it worked? What if they pulled the entire camp instead of just a few guards? It seemed reckless at first, until the Caller realized. They could do little else than test the defenses of the camp. He wouldn’t turn away now, forsaking Lucantele. He’d push forward, the way he always did.

“Alright. Anywhere I should look?”

“The gate is that way,” Twist said, pointing in a general direction.

“Here it goes,” Ethan said, sending Luca off into the forest.

The Caller watched through the vague senses the spirit sent back. He felt the forest, then the palisade wall. An amount of orcish guards stood near a gate. Ethan couldn’t get a sense for how many. He could feel them there, though. Without another plan, he ordered the spirit to attack then retreat.

“Incoming,” Ethan said.

“How many?”

“No clue.”

Luca took damage on his way back to their staging area. A few hits, but nothing serious. The Symbol was too good at dodging attacks. The moment he was within range, Ethan ordered him to use [Barrier of Hope] on Targe. Readying his spear and shield, the Fighter dug in. Silver light filled the area.

Three orcs burst from the forest, driving hard to reach Luca before he got away. Targe intercepted them, sweeping at their feet with his spear. One toppled over, the next taking shield to the face. Twist was already behind them, stabbing wildly with his daggers. The third got away, focused entirely on the Symbol and caring nothing for its allies.

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. They were behaving just like dungeon monsters. Each was only Rank 0, resulting in a fight that was one-sided. Luca didn’t have a problem soloing his orc. Twist and Targe had cut their orcs to ribbons by the time the Symbol was done with his. Then the group waited over the bodies of the orcs, listening to the sounds of the forest. None of the camp’s other inhabitants pushed out to attack them.

“Success?” Twist asked.

Targe knelt by the fallen orcs, rolling one over to inspect the creature’s bare flesh. Like those Ethan had seen back near Lucantele’s temple, they were dressed in simple loincloths. These monsters had painted their skin with various pigments, tracing patterns up their torsos and over their bald heads. Their faces weren’t entirely repulsive, but the sharp tusks and thick brows struck a powerful image. The layers of muscles covering their bodies didn’t help matters, making them look more fearsome.

“Maybe,” Targe said. “We’re lacking experience with groups of monsters like these. Out in the world. Not crammed in some dungeon.”

“We should take it slow,” Ethan said. “Pull them back like that.”

“Agreed.”

The group left Tulip near the tree. Instead of tying her off, Targe let her roam the area in search of food. Ethan looked away when the beetle found the bodies of the orcs to snack on. They weren’t even worth looting, so the group left them where they were. Twist ranged ahead as they worked through the forest, though it didn’t take long to spot the orc’s fortifications.

Crudely built walls, little more than trees hewn and jammed in the ground, circled the jagged rock. The sound of a crackling fire issued from within, smoke rising into the sky. Targe and Ethan remained in the forest while Twist scouted ahead, jogging past the stumps of trees to poke his head in the camp. He trotted back, nodding to the group.

“About 50,” he said. “It’s like a real camp. I saw a blacksmith’s forge.”

“Time to test my theory,” Targe said.

Worry stained the Fighter’s face. If he was wrong, and they pulled the entire camp, it would become a fight for their lives. Even if every orc in the camp was Rank 0, they’d have a hard time with it. Ethan reluctantly sent Luca in, having the spirit skirt the edge of the camp. The spirit sent a feeling about a smaller group of the orcs before attacking. Then he ran back, jumping over the wall to stand before the party.

Ethan ordered luca to use [Persistent Light of Hope] on Targe, then dismissed the spirit. He cast [Summon Telbarantis] as a group of orcs thundered around the corner, passing through the gate the moment they spotted the party. The Fighter rushed in as Tel sprung from his magic circle. Twist moved to the side, waiting for his chance to strike.

Four Rank 1 orcs descended on Targe, poking with makeshift spears and slashing with rusted swords. Ethan winced when their strikes reverberated off of the shield, filling the clearing with the sounds of battle. Tel trundled over to the assailing group, snatching one orc by the leg and shaking his head. The spirit entered a death roll, throwing the monster from its feet to slam hard on the ground.

Twist came in from the side, providing relief for the embattled Fighter. With one orc writhing on the ground from a serious leg wound, Tel picked another off. The spirit gave that one similar treatment, gaining the attention of three of the five orcs. That gave Targe and Twist room to work.

Ethan ordered Tel to activate his [Bulwark] ability right before a massive club came down on his head. The strike bounced off the spirit’s ability, glancing harmlessly to the side. Alligator-like teeth sunk into the orcs arm and savaged it, making the monster regret his action. But the other orc, the only other one on its feet, came in hard. The Symbol took a hit on the head, then one on his side. His health dipped, but didn’t dwindle past the half-way mark.

The Caller’s attention was drawn away from the fight, hearing a grunt of pain from Targe. He was casting [Cure Minor Wounds] before he understood the severity of the blow. The Fighter had missed a block with his shield, taking a crude dagger to the chest. But the damage was removed in a flash, eating at Ethan’s mana to drive it down to 120. What the less-effective spell failed to heal was mended slowly by Luca’s light.

Telbarantis gave up on sending the other monsters prone, and went for the first orc’s neck. They chipped away at the spirit’s health faster than they should have, dealing massive blows that Luca would have easily dodged. Before long they ground the spirit down to nothing, killing it. Motes of blue light flowed from the spirit, the power of [Caller’s Resilience] flooding through Ethan.

Twist dealt the final blow to one of the two orcs. The last of their pair ended with a deft stab of Targe’s sword. The two orcs who could walk limped toward Ethan, but were quickly set upon by the two close-range fighters. Watching them come, the Caller did nothing. His mana was ticking up by the moment and his companions were descending on the wounded monsters. Out in the open, with no dungeon tricks to mess with their battle, they made quick work of the creatures.

Silence fell over the clearing as the battle ended. All eyes were glued to the gate, but nothing came. Only the chirping of birds and insects issued over the stillness.

“I see the strength of Telbarantis,” Targe said, wiping his sword and spear clean.

“He wounds them well,” Twist said, inspecting the leg of one fallen orc. “Against humanoids? He is better than Luca.”

“But he’s only Rank 0,” Ethan said, shrugging. “There’s only so much he can do.”

But Tel’s use was more than clear. Ethan’s mana ticked up to 200. 10 points shy of full, even after using an ability, summoning a spirit, and casting a healing spell. The spirit wounded two orcs so badly that they had trouble moving. Those powerful jaws crippled them before they could move to attack the party. So while he was certainly a tank, he was more of a support tank. Once he got up to Rank 1, he’d be able to take a hit. Then he’d be something to fear on the battlefield.

All of Ethan’s self-congratulatory thoughts fell away. From deep within the camp a sound issued. A horn blew through the silence, then the sound of forty-some voices calling up in a guttural war cry.

“Balls,” Ethan said.