The kobold camp resembled nothing less than an upturned ants' nest, Chance felt, with the kobolds scurrying here and there in all directions in what appeared to be barely organised chaos. And that was being generous. The camp was coming down, amongst yelps and barks, as items were retrieved, stowed and stored, all ready for when they were to be moved on the journey to their new home at Azval Stalvaq.

I do hope that you aren’t expecting me to carry anything this time, Shags remarked by mindspeech as he watched proceedings. I am a wolf, not a…

A horse. Yeah, I get it, Chance interrupted. I don’t think it likely. We do appear to have plenty of hands available this time, and if necessary we can make more than one trip. It is not too far to travel.

The older kobold, Anyar, came over towards Chance, walking alone, a staff in his hand. “I was hoping that we could talk,” he said, the way that he was shifting from foot to foot a sign of his nervousness.

“Of course,” Chance replied. “I was hoping to ask some things of you as well, if you don’t mind.”

Anyar tilted his head to one side, large eyes blinking. “Such as?”

“We aren’t going to have any problems with Yavyar, are we?”

Anyar shook his head. “No, no, not at all.”

“He does not seem all that happy with the decision,” Chance pointed out.

Anyar sighed. “Yavyar is something of a traditionalist. He is young as well, and has not lived the years to be more open to new ideas. Despite that, he does put the needs of the tribe first.”

“His ideas of what the needs of the tribe are might be different to what you or I consider it.”

Another shake of the head came from Anyar. “No, you do not need to fear that. He came to his position earlier than expected, taking over from his father, and is still trying to find his place. It is from that his differences come.”

“His father is gone?”

“Yes,” Anyar explained. “It is the lot of the Iyari, to be subject to tragedy and taken too soon.”

Chance frowned as a thought came to him. “Yrip said that Yayvar was his brother, so that would have been his father as well?”

“And my brother,” Anyar told him.

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you, but it is the way that it has always been. Yavyar is doing what he feels is for the best, yet I think part of his reaction is resentment toward his brother.”

“Towards Yrip? In what way?”

“Before Yrip left,” Anyar explained, “He and his brother disagreed on the idea. I think, deep down, Yavyar wished he had the freedom to do likewise, but he was bound to stay by his position in the tribe.” Anyar sighed. “Maybe it would have been better had he done so. But we can not change that now.”

“I see.” Anyar seemed certain that Yavyar would cause no problems, and Chance was willing to take him at it. “What was it that you wished to speak to me about?” he asked.

Anyar frowned, seemingly reluctant to speak, eyes looking from side to side, and when he did speak, it was soft, so that no others could hear him. “The fall of the great master, the dragon, it was not unknown to me but I could not speak of it to the others.”

“How did you know?” Chance asked him, lowering his voice as well. If Anyar didn’t want the others to know, he was going to honour that choice.

“While Yanyar sees to the defences of the tribe, I see to its spiritual side, as shaman. I have power of my own, but it came from the dragon, a gift if you will, one through which I serve the dragon and aid the tribe. But one day it was gone, my link with the dragon sundered. I knew then that the dragon had been slain.”

“And that is why you seek out a new master after the old is gone?”

“That is part of the reason, yes, but on this occasion it is different. There was no immediate need.” He opened up his free hand and held it out, palm facing upwards, whispering a word that Chance didn’t catch. He saw the result though. Upon the kobold’s hand, a small ball of swirling green energy began to form.

Chance knew what it was the moment he saw it; Nature’s Breath. Druidic magic, healing magic exactly the same as he had used. “You are a druid as well?”

Anyar shook his head. “No, I am still the shaman of my tribe, but when the dragon fell and my source of power was lost, I felt the call of a new source, one unknown to me and one that I do not truly understand."

“You are not alone there,” Chance remarked wryly. “I am still learning it myself.”

“Ah. I had hoped that you might be able to assist me with it after Yrip told me you used it as well.”

“I can try; there is one that I can speak to about it who might be able to offer more assistance. The source, though, it makes some sense that it was available to you.”

“How so?”

“This place, Azval Stalvaq, it is a place of druidic power, and it is that which you can now touch.”

“I do not understand how that; I was not seeking it out.”

“Nor I,” Chance told him, “But we can find out together.”

“I knew that the great master, the dragon, had come to this place for a reason,” Anyar said. “He was seeking out a source of power, though never spoke of what it was. All I knew was that he could not access it.”

Chance laughed softly. “And where he failed, you have succeeded, even though you were not trying as he was. There is a certain irony there. It just shows that the Iyari have more going for them than you think.”

Anyar managed half a smile. “It is kind of you to say that, but this is the way we have always been. I am old, and have seen much, and while I know that what you say might be true, it will take a long time for change to happen.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The kobolds had, by then, finished readying to go. Yavyar and a small band set out ahead, with the rest following, laden down with as much as they could carry. Yavyar’s group removed or disabled the traps on the path as they went, making it safe for the rest to follow.

As they walked from the old camp, a voice rang out in Chance’s mind.

Milestone Compete

Chance fumbled for the parchment, hastily pulling it out to inspect it.

Camp Halfscale Cleared: 1/1

The third and final camp had at last been taken care of, fulfilling the goals of the quest he had set out to do. It had only been a few days and yet it felt much longer.

Quest: No Place Like Home

Nergezur’s servants and minions have been cleared from the region around Azval Stalvaq, rendering it now safe. You now have a secure base to operate from, towards whichever ends you decide.

Optional Hidden Bonus: By Words, not Deeds.

You have resolved the quest by diplomatic means, not through direct action.

Bonus Reward: +1 Presence.

That was not as helpful as he had hoped it might be. Certainly, he had completed it, but there was no real indication as to what he was meant to do next to further his journey, or even what exactly achieving a milestone meant.

“It means,” a familiar voice told him, “That you have completed the first part of your journey.”

Chance half jumped at the unexpected voice, turning to look at the man who was walking beside him and who had spoken; The Counsellor.

“You,” he growled, feeling the old sense of frustration and indignation rising in him.

“Me,” The Counsellor agreed.

Chance’s eyes narrowed. He didn't know where exactly to start, only that he had a lot to unload on the man and it took more resolve than he thought he actually had to stop from trying to thump him. “You still haven’t said why you did all of this.”

“To help you.”

“That is no answer,” Chance growled.

“Perhaps, but it will do for now. There are reasons, and you are still not ready for them. Still, you have done well, if a little slower than I would have expected, and in a manner that was surprisingly different.”

“Meaning that I didn’t just kill everything in sight and get it done with?”

“That was one option, certainly,” The Counsellor replied blandly.

Chance looked around as he walked the path; the others were showing a complete indifference to the conversation, and even to the presence of The Counsellor.

“Are you even here?” he asked.

The Counsellor smiled. “Yes, but only for you. The others can not perceive me, or even understand me.”

Chance sighed. It was more of the same from the man. He hadn’t missed it at all. “Can you at least tell me what comes next?”

“That is up to you. You can stay here, or you can venture forth, out into the wider world.”

“The end goal will still be the same, won’t it? The demon.”

The Counsellor looked to Chance, raising a brow. For the first time ever that Chance could recall he had looked surprised. “So you found out about that, did you? Yes, I would guess you would. The demon is a danger to you, to this world, and only through defeating it can the world be made safe.”

“Through my death,” Chance pointed out. “I saw what was to happen.”

“I did not bring you here to die. Put that out of your mind; the demon is far off.”

Chance scowled. He was starting to feel angry again, angry at The Counsellor, angry at the situation. It was, he realised, the first time in a while that he had felt that way. Anger had often been a large part of his life, back in the real world, but during his time here it had largely been absent, and he found that he had not missed it. “Then if you won’t tell me of that, then the least that you can do is tell me what these Milestones are. What they mean, what they do.”

“Milestones are reflections of your progress upon your journey. They mark important steps along the way. They also represent the growth you have made, allowing you to advance your abilities. Use the parchment and all will be revealed. Now, I must leave you again.”

“What a surprise,” Chance remarked, voice heavy with sarcasm.

“Do not fear, we shall meet again.”

“I can hardly wait.”

The Counsellor quirked a brow, and then he was gone once more. Infuriating, unhelpful. That and so many more descriptions passed through Chance’s mind. He found that he was grinding his teeth together and forced himself to relax.

Whatever he felt about the man, he had been right about the parchment. Chance looked at it, focusing on the part that said milestone.

Milestones: 1

You have reached your first milestone. Each time that you reach a new one, you can improve yourself, either advancing in your class, choosing a new one, or obtaining new powers, skills or attributes.

Ah, finally a look at how the advancement system worked. A list of choices became available to him, too many really, and not enough time to go through the list in detail. Most of it didn’t mean much to him either, without proper reference. There was a Craftsman class that he could take, which sounded useful, but not exciting. And a Warrior class as well, no doubt for those wanting to get up close and personal. What the Warlord or Spiritmaster classes did he couldn’t say.

The simplest, and most obvious, choice was to advance in Druid again. After all, he was already on that path, and he at least knew what it did. Sort of.

Class: Druid

New Rank: Aspirant

Stat Increases: Mind 1, Soul 1.

New Power: Grasping Roots

As your understanding of the natural world increases, so too does your mastery of it and your connection to it. In recognition of this, your standing within the Druidic Conclave has risen, to that of an Aspirant. To advance further, to the rank of a full Brother, requires not just further learning and understanding, but that a Master of the Conclave has judged you worthy enough to take up full membership within the Conclave.

Power: Grasping Roots

Range: Close

Required Stats: Mind 2, Soul 2

Required Affinities: Nature.

Power Source: Primal.

Calling on the roots and plants of the natural world, a druid can cause them to grasp and entangle their foes, slowing their passage or preventing their movement altogether. Foes with BODY equal to or less than the Druid's MIND can not move while in the roots, while those with a BODY higher than a druid’s MIND can move only half as fast.

Finally, a means to keep enemies at a distance, to stop them getting up close and hitting him. It was more than welcome and he was glad he had chosen to continue on the path of a druid. The part about needing a Master of the Conclave to advance further, though, well, that sounded like he was going to have to find other Druids at some point soon.

Chance stowed the parchment away. At last he was making some real progress, in a manner of speaking. Sure he had stumbled around a bit at first, uncertain what he was doing, but now an idea was starting to form in his mind, of the path ahead.

All well? he heard Shags ask. You seemed almost….troubled. For a moment there as well, your mind was closed off.

All is well, Chance told the wolf. I know what I must do now.

And?

Chance smiled. We shall get the kobolds settled in first. And then, then we shall change the world.

It was an ambitious plan, one that was still yet fully formed. There was a demon to slay as well, and a long way to get there, but he would do it. The wider world might not yet know it, but they were about to meet the real Chance Cranlin.