The guard's head bounced along the walkway. His metal chain coif had done nothing to stop her blade.

Wet stone, covered now in blood, squished under her feet as Grace dodged with elegance and speed that none of these guards were prepared for.

She dodged under the wide swing of the guard's partner, thrusting with her legs and hips, the sword cutting through the chainmail around his chest like a sharp pair of scissors against cloth.

The top third of the guard's body fell onto the stone battlement, filling the cracks with a crimson liquid.

Grace spun and raced toward the guard, who was still standing by the gutters for the oil, unable to comprehend the devil in their midst.

The black girl striking them down without effort was sprinkled with blood, her hair tied back, and a pair of black eyes that burned with hate. Her gaze left no doubt in the guard's mind what was about to befall him, and as he struggled to pull his sword free, he took too long, barely halfway from drawing his weapon, when the tip of Grace’s blade pierced his heart.

Balethem’s young emissary didn’t pause, ripping the sword from the guard’s chest as the man let go of his weapon and tried to staunch the flow of blood that came like a river.

Grace was like a mother animal, defending her child from those who sought to harm it, not caring about the damage or pain it caused. They had made a grave mistake, believing it was okay to act the way they had. Two townsmen joined the death count, one’s arm still attached to the pole of the oil he had been trying to cover her people with.

The last guard was racing toward a rope on the other side.

Unsure what it was for but knowing it wasn’t good if the man reached it, Grace hurled her sword toward him, watching it spin through the air.

A squelching sound came as it plunged inside the man’s back, the blade only stopping from going completely through his body by the hilt that caught against the chain armor.

The force knocked the guard from his feet, sending him tumbling a few steps until the sword caught on a stone and stopped the roll.

Slowly, the corpse slid down the blade, coming to rest face-first in a pool of blood that was beginning to form.

The shouting outside and banging on the wooden doors of the keep told Grace that it appeared most had reached the door and were waiting on her.

Glancing around the room, she saw the mechanism Max had described and the lever she needed to work.

Moving toward the gears, Grace grabbed the wooden lever and began pulling on it, watching the tooth of the lever spin the gear. As it turned, a metal piece dropped into each slot on the gear as it turned.

The brake… so it is engaged.

Smiling, she went to work, pulling till the lever was against her chest and then pushing the lever over the insets until it was extended and ready to be pulled again.

The shouting got louder, and Grace knew after a dozen pulls that the wooden gate must have lifted enough for people to start making their way through it.

Renewed by that knowledge, Grace got to work, pulling until the gear stopped, letting her know it was fully raised.

Moving back to the guard who was closest by the oil gutters, she took his half-drawn blade and raced for the stairs.

Racing them, she reached the bottom, pushing open the door that led to the courtyard, only to find a throng of her people rushing past, shouting and waving their homemade weapons.

“Grace!”

Max was waiting for her off to the side with a tiny grin on his face. He gave her a slight nod and motioned for her to join him.

As she ran toward him, a red box appeared in her vision.

*****

Quest Complete

—

Lead an army: You have stormed the keep with over fifty people following you.

Reward: Ability Gained

Choose one Ability:

* Swordmaster

* Armor Mastery

* Sneak

*****

Max saw Grace almost stumble momentarily and realized she was reading something by how her eyes were moving.

“What is it?” he called out over the shouting.

“A completed quest… three choices for an ability.”

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Max glanced around them quickly and nodded.

“No time, give me the choices.”

“Swordmaster, Armor Mastery, and Sneak.”

“Mother stuffin'…” he trailed off, obviously frustrated at the choices. Scowling, he shook his head and motioned to her to follow him as they began to run.

“Swordmaster… I’d say… no; just take Swordmaster for now. You need to really know how to fight.”

Grace nodded and selected that ability. She started to slow down, sensing knowledge of fighting with the blade in her hand she never knew was possible. Everything she had done up until now was crude and mainly relied upon her strength. The elegance of how a blade could be used, the combination of attacks, everything about how to bring death quickly or painstakingly slowly filled her mind.

“Yes… it’s a lot, now we need to move!” Max shouted back at her.

Nodding, she took off, glancing around the keep and how buildings she had never seen were laid out.

“Where are we going?”

Max pointed down the small street and at the building at the far end. It looked majestic, cut from stone, rising high into the night sky, with beautiful curves and arches decorating windows. There were statues along the side and roof, letting all that ever got a chance to see it. They were not in the same class as the person who resided there.

“The Lord Knight. He will be in there,” Max explained.

“What about the priestess? I need to kill her and the acolytes?”

Grace almost ran into Max with how quickly he stopped and turned. “You have to kill them?” he asked, a pained look on his face.

Nodding, Grace tried to figure out why Max looked like someone had kicked him in the balls. “Is it that bad?”

“Killing priests and priestesses is bad news… it will put you on that god’s radar faster than you can imagine. Killing an emissary is one thing. They don’t like that, but the other…” Max scanned the streets, watching the people run into buildings in groups, the sound of occasional fighting coming from one or two of the structures.

“Rewards are bad?”

Bobbing her head, Grace pulled it up and checked. “I’d lose stats again, and I’d rather not suffer that… besides if I manage to get two, my mental will hit ten.”

Somehow, the scowl on Max’s face got worse as he nashed his teeth, obviously pained by their forced choices.

“Fine… we’ll do it, but know this,” Max said as he leaned over her. “This is a quick way to become a target. If you become a target… everyone around you becomes one too.”

Frowning, Grace pushed down the frustration of that news. “Let’s do it and get it over with. We need to end this tonight.”

Standing upright, Max scanned the crowd and saw who he was looking for among the torches and lanterns.

“MARCUS!!”

The large man’s voice carried above the din of shouts and fighting, and Marcus spotted them and made his way over.

“What’s wrong?” Marcus asked.

“Block the Lord Knight in, don’t let anyone in. Be safe, and don’t take risks,” Max replied as he motioned to Grace. “We need to do something first and then will join you.”

Glancing at Grace and then at Max, Marcus shrugged. “I’ll do what I can. Honestly, I’m impressed we’re here this early.”

Max grabbed Grace's shoulder and started to pull her in the direction he knew they needed to go.

“Just don’t let people be stupid!” Max shouted as they ran off. “No one needs to die!”

Standing before the doors of the temple Max had led her to, situated between two buildings, Grace wondered how something so minor could have such value in her god’s eyes.

“It’s not very big, but I can feel… a presence… does that make sense?”

Grunting, Max nodded and began moving up the three small steps. “This is special. A god’s temple isn’t like something else.”

Stopping at the top before the door, Max shuddered, and Grace felt it too. It was like someone had walked over her grave.

“Take out the acolytes first, I’ll help with the priestesses.”

She started to ask a question, but Max was in motion, pushing both doors open and moving inside.

Grace followed behind, and the moment she went through the doors, her vision began to fade. The night vision she had grown so used to and being able to see everything was gone. In the temple, the only light came from the candles and torches, and it left her afraid.

A single passage with a few candles led to the arches, which opened up into the main area. She could make out the benches for people to sit on and a massive altar and statue of who she assumed must be Grimdom.

Candles burned all over, and Grace couldn’t shake the feeling that someone far more powerful than her was watching every step she took inside.

“Do you see them?”

Max’s question drew her eyes to the three people standing in the temple. Two men with staves and red and white robes were waiting by the last set of benches. Their eyes seemed to glow. For men of the church, they didn’t act like someone who might be afraid of a person with a sword.

Behind them and almost blending into the altar was a woman in a dark red robe. Even in the light of the candles, Grace could see that the woman’s hair was red and her eyes…

They're glowing… how the hell are her eyes glowing red?!

Grace’s heart began to beat faster, and for the first time in so long, she realized this wasn’t going to be simple. Whatever she was about to face felt far worse than anything else she had known.

“Max, should we attempt this?”

“Fight against the fear. That’s part of all this,” Max replied. “This isn’t just a fight with a sword or muscles. She will use magic, what kind I am not certain.”

Grace felt a lump in her throat and wanted to ask more questions, but they had entered the main room and were now moving past the benches. Max had slowed down to be beside her.

“Foolish ones!” the woman shouted, her voice almost overpowering Grace’s mind. “How dare you come into this place with intent to kill! Leave now, and perhaps you may have a few more years before Grimdom hunts you down.”

Every part of her wanted to nod and run out the door. Grace fought against it, her hand and sword trembling as she tried to walk.

“Remember why you’re here,” Max whispered. “Remember who you fight for.”

Levi’s smiling face appeared in her mind. It brought her a moment of peace, and then the image of his swollen jaw, bruises, and limp body replaced it. Anger and hatred flooded her, and the fear she had felt a moment ago was burnt away like dry grass in a fire.

“She comes because she must,” Max said, his voice steady and calm. “Sometimes the gods make choices, and one must obey. Today is that day.”

Laughter filled the room, and Grace saw both acolytes lower their staves at them.

“Prepare to dodge,” Max whispered.

“It would appear you are correct,” the priestess replied. “It seems Grimdom desires both of your lives as well.”

Without another word or warning, the top of the wooden staves became engulfed in flames, and a gout of fire raced toward her and Max.