The dock shook as knee-high waves washed over Ethan. He steadied himself, hand on the railing. But he could not tear his eyes away from the form of Telbarantis. Scales like sapphires glimmered in the sun. Endless rows of the jagged things, larger than a horse, ran the length of the Great Spirit’s body. It had a mouth full of teeth like an alligator, spikes running down the length of its massive back, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes.

The crowd reacted with a mixture of emotions as the Great Spirit leveled its gaze. Some fled from the spot, others fell to the ground, pressing their foreheads against the dock. But Duke Leonard held firm, staring up at the creature with a smile on his face. Twist was nearby in a blink, holding Ethan steady. Targe wasn’t far behind. They both radiated a sense of resolute defiance.

“Caller,” Telbarantis said, the mountainous reptile settling into the water so only the top of his massive head was visible. “It’s been too long since a Caller was here.”

“Howdy,” Ethan said, offering a stupid wave.

Unlike Luca, Tel was much more imposing. It seemed more material than the silver squirrel, and influenced its environment to a greater degree.

“What are you two saying?” Targe asked.

Ethan turned, regarding his new companions. “You can’t understand us?”

“No, you’re just jabbering,” Targe said.

Ethan cleared his throat, holding his arms out for dramatic effect. It was best to look bigger than you were when dealing with enormous animals. Right? “Thank you for showing your form today. It seems like we have the town in a flurry of motion. They’re tripping over themselves to see you.”

The Great Spirit tilted its head, eyes focusing on the crowd behind. “So it seems. Tell me, Caller. Why have you summoned me? Not that I don’t appreciate swimming in my ancestral waters.”

“Of course,” Ethan said, bowing his head. The crowd was talking amongst themselves now. “I wish to form a pact. To call on you in battle.”

“Mmm the old pacts. I miss those, you know?” Tel shifted in the water, raising himself up on his forelegs. Ethan decided the creature was a ‘he’, if only to organize his thoughts. “In the old times, I would give a quest. Some feat of strength.”

“My quest says you need to be healed.”

“Hmmm. Healed? No, I don’t think so. Well? Maybe. Nothing I can’t handle. Nothing the temple can’t handle. But maybe?”

“I would be excited to help you out, Telbarantis,” Ethan said, bowing.

The Great Spirit was far kinder than his appearance let on. Those massive teeth would have driven most people from the spot, but as they spoke Ethan only felt a calm sense of personal growth.

“There is a dungeon. Northwest of my lake. While dungeons are as much a part of nature as I, there is something… wrong. A veil surrounds it, refusing to bow to my will. If a Caller were to find the dungeon’s core, I could exert my will and determine the issue.”

“What Rank is the dungeon?”

“Rank 1. Adventurers have run it. They don’t like it. Corruption seethes through the place,” Tel said. “There. That is your quest, Caller Bells. Cure the source of corruption on the [Goblin Dungeon].”

Ethan bowed even lower this time. “I think I can manage it. With my party.”

“Good. Oh, could you pass on a message for me?” Telbarantis asked.

“Of course. I don’t think they can understand you.” Ethan turned, looking at those gathered. They were in various states of shock. All but the duke.

“I am the Great Spirit of fertility. Fertility of the land. Please instruct those that maintain my temple to stop asking for babies. I don’t like babies.”

Ethan tried not to laugh. “Of course.”

“How is Lucantele?” Tel asked, whipping his massive head through the air. He was looking toward Luca’s temple.

“If I had to guess, I think his power is fading,” Ethan said. It was just a suspicion. “Another reason I need your help. To clear out the orcs. Maybe you could just go stomp on them in the mountains.”

“I cannot,” Tel said. “Even this display bends what is possible for a Great Spirit. I can splash and growl. But that is the extent of my will without a powerful Caller to guide me.”

“I have a good path forward now.” Ethan stood for long moments before speaking again. Since he had the spirit there, it was worth asking. “Do you think it's a good idea to build myself as a support summoner?”

“In the old times, a Caller would specialize each Great Spirit they formed a pact with. Treat each spirit summon as a different build.” Tel tilted his head, narrowing a single eye on Ethan. “My Symbol is great at defending. Lucantele is an excellent support Symbol.”

Ethan bowed again. That was incredible information, giving him hope to be more versatile than just a support summoner. And it made sense. When his bond strengthened with a Symbol, he got access to new abilities. As long as he built himself to regen a ton of mana, he was golden.

“Thank you again, Tel. Can I call you Tel?”

“Sure.”

“Make a dramatic exit, please.”

Something of a smile spread across the reptile's face. “Certainly.”

One massive swish of Telbarantis’ tail sent a tsunami across the lake’s surface. The crowd screamed in horror. The Great Spirit dipped under the water, then burst into the air. Judging the length of Tel’s body was impossible. Perhaps longer than Oudsted was wide. He burst into a cloud of blue motes that rained down on the crowd. Wherever they landed, plants grew. After a tense moment, those gathered burst into cheers.

“Nice one,” Twist said, patting Ethan on the shoulder.

“Almost crapped my pants,” Targe said with a chuckle.

“A fine display,” Leonard said, marching over. Every second step he took was punctuated by the sound of his spear hitting the deck. He bore a wide smile, even as the water from Tel’s display came raining down. “Very fine indeed.”

A man in a blue robe came rushing over. Compared to the others wearing similar robes, his was finer by a long way. His shaved head glistened in the sun as he fell to the ground, pressing his forehead to the dock and muttering.

“On your feet, High Priest Egbert,” Leonard said.

Ethan turned to Targe, mouthing ‘Egbert’. The Fighter tried, and failed, not to laugh. But the priest gathered himself, standing to reveal tears streaming down his face.

“I never thought we’d see the Great Spirit. Never in my lifetime, or that of my followers. For that, you have my thanks, Caller.”

“Does the thanks come with a cash reward?” Ethan asked, grimacing.

“It is a service provided by Callers,” Leonard said, bringing a strange sense of calm to the dock. “For free.”

“Damn.”

“Did our patron have a message? We haven’t spoken to him in hundreds of years, surely he had a message,” Egbert said.

“Yeah, he said stop praying for babies. He hates babies. He’s the Great Spirit of Fertility of the Land. Not of… you know… your junk.”

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Egbert bowed again, but Leonard smacked him in the ass with the haft of his spear. The priest went rod-straight.

“Duke Leonard, do you know about the [Goblin Dungeon] northwest of the lake?” Ethan asked.

“I do.”

“I need to get in there. Telbarantis said once I get to the core, he can do something about the corruption.”

Leonard shot Ethan a stern look. He looked around the crowd as though he wanted no one to hear about the corrupted dungeon. “Come. Bring your party.”

With a swish of an overly ornate cloak, the duke was off down the dock. When a procession of functionaries attempted to follow him, he shouted at them to stay back. Targe and Twist were not the target of the man’s ire, and they followed close in step. Several hundred paces away from the crowds, and the duke was ready to talk.

“I thought you were faking it,” Leonard said. “Talking to the spirit. I had the corrupted dungeon sealed the moment I got word of it.”

“Whoops.”

“Did Telbarantis seem confident he could fix it?”

“Not really.”

“It is within the spirit’s domain,” Twist said. The duke swung his gaze to the Rogue.

“Strange place for a dark elf,” Leonard said. He then slid his eyes over to Targe. “Stranger still for a traitor of the crown.”

Hands were on daggers and swords before Ethan could do anything. Only when he shouted, “Hey!” did the group relax. “Leo has secrets. Targe has secrets. Twist has them too. We all got secrets, alright?”

“Just so,” Duke Leonard said.

“You need a corrupted dungeon purged. I can do it,” Ethan said. The tension still hung in the air. “How well can you scrub their records clean?”

“Very well,” Leonard said. “Absolutely, I should think. A ducal pardon for Sven, and a letter of recommendation for Deraeda.”

So those were Targe and Twist’s real names. Ethan didn’t know what those guys had done before, and he didn’t care. This was a chance for them to actually start again. A clean slate. The Caller suddenly wanted to talk to Telbarantis again. To get some advice on what he should do without all the nonsense of mortal drama.

“I scrub your dungeon, and you scrub my dudes clean. Alright? No one has to know you’ve got some sickly dungeon in your lands, and these two fine adventurers prove they’re worthy of your pardon. How does that sound?”

A smile spread across Duke Leonard’s face. “That’s a fine display, Ethan. Before I rose to power, I was an adventurer. I met men and women from all backgrounds. Convicted murderers, thieves, and so on. Starting a new life as an adventurer… I’m not fool enough to think everyone is clean. But you? Asking for pardons for these men? You could request a pile of gold.”

“That would place me firmly in the category of bad people you’re talking about,” Ethan said. Despite his best efforts, his grip was tight on his staff. [Summon Lucantele] was at the forefront of his mind after having dismissed him, whatever good that would do him. “A new category, maybe. Extorters.”

Leonard let out a great laugh, tilting his head back and cackling into the misty sky. “I’ll take your offer, Caller Bells. With great pride that the Caller that roams Wexenhal has a pair of brass ones big enough to make Telbarantis blush. I’ll speak with the Guild. Your first mission will be to clear the corrupted dungeon.”

“Thank you, Duke Leonard,” Ethan said, bowing his hand.

A powerful hand clapped over his shoulder, almost forcing him to crumple on the spot. “Thank you. For a bit of entertainment in these dull times.”

Without further explanation, the duke spun on the spot and walked away. Twist and Targe still had their weapons ready, even if the Fighter lacked his spear. They watched as Leonard surmounted the rise, joining with the crowds once more.

“Alright. I might have actually crapped my pants that time,” Targe said.

Twist relaxed, turning his single eye to Ethan. “Why not sell us up the river? Why make a deal with the duke when you could have abandoned us for riches?”

It was the longest string of words the dark elf had uttered to the caller.

“Because you saved me, Twist,” Ethan said. “Because neither of you freaked out when you learned I was both a Caller and an outworlder. Hell, maybe I just like you!”

Targe snatched Ethan up, pulling him into a great bearhug. Even after Ethan tapped on the man’s shoulder, he didn’t relent. Twist came over and awkwardly joined them.

“Group hug,” the dark elf said.

Just as Ethan predicted, the people of Telbarantis’ temple weren’t interested in him. As the group approached their rowboat, no one lamented their passage. Rowing across the lake was a silent affair, done so by a team of surly looking men that cursed as much as they said anything of value. They dismounted at the dock in Oudsted, passing people who talked about the Great Spirit’s arrival. They could see the massive lizard from anywhere in the town, especially when he jumped out of the water.

“So, dark elves are bad?” Ethan asked once they were back in their room at the Marsh Wolf Tavern.

“Dark elves aren’t bad,” Twist assured him.

“They’re horrible creatures,” Targe said. “Wexenhal is at war with them. They’re typically of a mind to kill anyone on the surface without regard. Twist is an exception.”

Twist folded his arms, letting out a grunt of disapproval.

“What makes you a traitor?”

“Desertion,” Twist said. “He fled the army to be an adventurer after meeting me. The evil dark elf.”

So both of their sordid pasts were sore points. Ethan didn’t have any skeletons in his closet, but his world didn’t have magic. It was unfair to judge someone in a place like this, he thought. Someone’s past should define the person they wanted to be in the future, and their crimes seemed positively stupid. Targe broke a contract and Twist was a race that people didn’t like.

“So, do you actually only have one eye?”

“Yes,” Twist said. But he didn’t remove the mask.

“And your names? Real names?”

“Sven Brecht,” Targe said.

“Deraeda Khiesrist,” Twist said.

“Cool. I like the fake ones better.”

“Whatever you say, Bells.”

When the group went out for lunch, they were pleasantly surprised. Barkers for the local restaurants were eager to have Caller Bells show up in their place. Each offered free meals for the Caller and his party, so the group picked the fanciest place in town. Resting atop a hill near the duke’s spire, the Crystal Goblet was an establishment built on pomp. Everything about it, from the whitewashed exterior, to the chandelier-laden interior, screamed opulence. Only when the group sat down, served by white-coated waiters, did they realize the error of rich people.

“Is this the entire meal?” Twist asked, tilting his mask slightly upward to slip the smallest piece of meat in his mouth.

“Gonna need two or three courses,” Targe said, frowning down at his plate.

Even the wine came in tiny cups that could never sate Ethan’s thirst. But they kept their laughter down, and made the best of the unfulfilling meal. As they learned, there was more than one course. The first was a plate of grilled meat, roughly the size of a thumbnail. Next was a bed of steamed vegetables, although the Caller couldn’t identify any of them. Finally, an entire roasted bird arrived, complete with a dipping sauce that tasted tangy.

“Thank the Great Spirits,” Targe said, clapping his hands together. “More wine, please!”

There was a custom in the fancy restaurant, though. Something that none of the men were aware of, even after the tenth dish was brought out. The waiter noticed how lethargic the group was getting and informed them they were supposed to say when to stop. Ethan was certain the owner of the place was getting annoyed, so when they were done eating he marched to the center of the dining hall, summoning Lucantele.

The silver squirrel was a crowd-pleaser, and everyone clapped with excitement. There was a strange disconnect there, but Ethan didn’t mind. He wasn’t summoning the Great Spirit himself, just a Symbol of that spirit’s power. But as he gazed on the dancing creature, he realized what a parody of the real thing it was. Luca was in his temple, withering away by the day while Ethan ate fancy food and played with the spirit’s image. While the mockery of it all wasn’t lost on him, he was doing his best.

Out on the streets of Oudsted, in the mid-afternoon, the group walked around. They were offered more free food, but no one had the heart to stuff themselves further. Instead, they discussed plans for the future. Because there was a problem in clearing Telbarantis’ dungeon.

“You can enter a dungeon that’s one rank above and below your rank,” Targe said, waving off another barker. “But I’d rather have you at Rank 1 before we try.”

“Which means we need monsters to kill,” Ethan said.

“Forests to the northeast,” Twist said.

“Right. We can escort you to the forests and train up. It’s maybe a day away. Think the duke will have a problem with that?”

“Not sure he has any say in the matter,” Ethan said. “If I’m not up to the challenge, we can’t clear the dungeon. Maybe we can get him to fund my rank-up costs.”

“We can get all that stuff out in the wild,” Targe said with a dismissive wave.

The group worked their way to the eastern side of town, exiting the gates and finding themselves in the slums. This section was even worse than that at the southern gate, revealing the squalor that these people lived in. Targe cleared things up, stating that this wasn’t the best town in the duchy. Compared to the other holds, they were far away from civilization. But their purpose of visiting the east wasn’t to see how destitute people were. They found their way to the edge of town, spotting rolling hills with dense forests to the northeast.

“Full of peak Rank 0 monsters,” Twist said.

“It has a few names. The Forest of Oudsted. Corpse Rise.”

“Yay, a name that encourages confidence,” Ethan said.

“A name is just a name. I say we get going now. Leave word with the Guild and head off. Once we get you to Rank 1, we’ll be ready to hit the corrupted dungeon,” Targe said.

Ethan was happy with that. His instinct was to rush into the dungeon to get his full membership in the Guild, but caution had been his ally all this time. With his new subcore to test, and a bond with Lucantele to forge, he looked forward to leaving the safety of Oudsted. Back into the wilds where there was experience to grind. He would miss sleeping indoors, though.