Nate crouched low against a tree. His wide eyes scanned the forest around him, his ears listening for any movement. A scuff to his right made his heart jump into his throat, then he let out of a tight breath of relief when he saw a small mammal scurry away under some overgrowth.

He was outside the city walls for the first time. Out in the wilds, his first mission, and he had been assigned to scout ahead for his ragtag party. Their party leader, or, more accurately, their babysitter, was a level 10 human named Clive who smelled like old sweat and constantly had an expression that made Nate wonder if the man was constipated. Nate did not like Clive. Clive had warned them repeatedly about staying close to him. Wandering off, they were told, was the fastest way to get killed. Then the man had turned Nate and, with no sense of irony, told him to run ahead and scout.

“What does that mean? I thought you said we need to stay together?” Nate had asked, trying not to sound scared.

“You know. Scout. Go look around, see if there’s any danger. Then come back and warn the group if you see something,” Clive had said, his face locked in a perpetual scowl.

“Why me?” Nate asked.

“Because you’re a Rogue. Rogue’s scout. They’re good at hiding, finding traps, sneak attacks. That kind of thing.”

“I don’t have skills for any of those things,” Nate had pointed out.

He had argued a bit longer. But, ultimately, he had found himself in his current predicament, all alone in the middle of a forest. The forest he had been hearing about for weeks as he trained. The forest that he had been assured was a death trap for level 1 characters like himself.

Being a scout was a fucking scam.

Finally satisfied that there were no dangers lurking in the immediately vicinity, Nate popped to his feet and ran back the way he had come. That was one thing he was growing increasingly confident about. His running skill boosted his already impressive dexterity while he was in motion, and he flew through the forest, his steps skimming effortlessly over the uneven ground as the trees blurred by.

A minute later, he skidded to a halt just before colliding with Christophe, who had jumped out from behind a tree in his path, nearly giving Nate a heart-attack. The rest of the group emerged from the trees around them.

Christophe was the only member of the party that Nate actually knew well. In addition to the mage, there was Triska, their archer, Olander, their warrior, and Gwen, their priest. They all looked like scared kids on a cosplay excursion.

“Did you see anything?” Triska asked, leaning on her longbow. She was a demon. She insisted she wasn’t a demon, and his identify said her race was Ikarshi. But she had dark red skin that looked like leather, narrow eyes that glowed a strange purple, and a forked tongue. Nate knew a fucking demon when he saw one.

“There’s a little trail through the trees off that way,” Nate said, gesturing vaguely. “Other than that I just saw trees and some small animals.” He tried but failed not to glare at Triska. He had suggested that she should be the one to scout. She actually had a skill for moving quietly, and she was better armed than he was. But Clive had shut it down. Scouting was a Rogue thing.

“No sign of the Barclave?” Clive grumbled, materializing from behind of the trees. He blended into the forest seamlessly and carried the short sword at his waist and the shortbow on his back with a practiced ease. He had initially been a warrior, but he had proudly revealed to the group that he was one of the few level 10 travelers to actually make the trek to the mountain fortress where one could go and have their class upgraded. He was now a Ranger, ideally suited for fighting in the forest. Or scouting, Nate had suggested. That, too, had been shot down.

“Not unless it is six inches tall and likes to scurry under bushes,” Nate answered. Clive grunted, shaking his head.

This was supposed to be an easy first outing beyond the wall. Despite the dangers of the forest, the area immediately around the city was regularly cleared, and the Factions had started taking their new Travelers out weeks ago to build their experience and their levels. The odds their little group would actually see anything today were low.

Then, only minutes after leaving the safety of the walls behind, Clive had noticed some footprints. Big ones. With claws.

“Barclave,” he had muttered to himself, before whispering some kind of curse and looking around nervously. He hadn’t given them much of a description, just said it was big and that they would, “know it if you saw it.”

“Should we go back now?” Gwen, their priest, whispered, looking around nervously. She was human, though so small that Nate had assumed she must be something else at first. Even in the practice yard she was the nervous sort, and now she looked absolutely terrified. They had brought her anyway because priests were rare, and even her novice healing spell could be invaluable.

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“Stop being such a coward! We are supposed to keep going until we find the first marker,” Olander said, his booming voice making everyone else wince and look around to be sure he hadn’t summoned a calamity down on them. Olander was humanish, but big, bald, and his shirtless body was a bright pink. He looked like something from a deranged Saturday morning cartoon show, but the heavy two-handed axe he carried in his bulging arms gave Nate some comfort. Unfortunately, the big man wasn’t particularly bright.

“We keep going,” Clive cut in, ending the bickering before it could truly get going. “Barclave aren’t territorial. They tend to move around. Those tracks were old, and it is probably out of the area by now. Let’s just get you to the first marker, then back to camp.”

Their first mission was simple enough. The city authorities had set up a series of markers out in the woods, and reaching one would allow everyone in their party to complete their first quest.

{Quest: Reach the first marker of the Dawn Woods.

The City Guard of Dawn has established markers outside the city that establish zones of increasing danger. The first marker indicates the edge of the low-danger zone. Touch the marker and return to the Guard Garrison.

Reward: Small amount of XP.}

Nate led the group back to the farthest area he had explored. It was almost noon by the time they reached it, the intense, crystalline light of Farandway’s sun beating down through the canopy overhead. It was a beautiful day, as every day had been so far.

“We should be getting close to the ravine,” Clive said, as the group paused to rest. “We’ll need to find the bridge to cross. Nathan Sutton…”

“Just Nate,” Nate interrupted, correcting the man for the 10th time.

“Whatever. We’ll wait here while you scout ahead. Come back and get us when you find the bridge.”

“Jesus Christ,” Nate muttered to himself.

He pretended to ignore the slight clink of coins changing hands behind him, just as he had pretended to ignore the whispered conversations among the other members of the group when the betting pool had been set up. He needed to find a way to work in at least five more ‘Jesus Christ’ comments before the end of the day to make sure Christophe won the pool.

It was during the first week that Nate figured out that, despite appearances, not everyone was speaking English. It was some weird System bullshit going on that translated everything so effortlessly that it was almost imperceptible. Almost. There were occasionally terms that didn’t translate well, with proper names and, oddly, most curse words being the main candidates. The group had quickly caught on to Nate’s favorite, and he was currently having some fun with it. When the money got bigger, he planned to force Christophe to cut him in on the profits.

Before long, Nate found himself again alone in the woods, moving as quickly and quietly as he could. Scouting wasn’t all bad, he decided. He hadn’t actually seen anything dangerous yet, and he liked the solitude.

He had only been looking for about 15 minutes before he found the ravine. He gawked at it for a full minute. The crack in the earth was at least thirty yards wide, a yawning maw of sheer rock on both sides that disappeared into impenetrable darkness. The sight made of it made him strangely uneasy. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He felt like he was being watched.

Nate looked up and down the length of the ravine. It didn’t run in a straight line, but cut off at strange angles, disappearing behind screens of trees. He was trying to decide which way to start looking for the bridge when the sound of something crashing through the trees behind him made him freeze in panic.

Nate turned, ready to run, when a hulking form burst through the low growth with a terrifying roar of triumph. Nate’s eyes went wide.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Sentry had been busy. She had a dozen candidates now, and she split her time between keeping an eye on their progress and making her own solo forays into the wilderness, building levels. It was risky leaving the city alone, and there had been a few close calls. But the rewards had been impressive. She was already at level 3.

Most of her candidates were lagging far behind that. It wasn’t surprising. She couldn’t recruit from any of the major Factions. They would have their parties set by their Faction leaders. That left her sifting for rare diamonds in the lesser Factions and the unfortunates out at the Traveler’s Retreat. Still, a few of them had already shown promise.

Today she had decided to follow Nathan Sutton’s group as they made their first escorted trip outside of Dawn. She was still of two minds on the young man. She had watched him spar a few times in the practice yard, and he was almost useless in a fight. He was also trouble. She had watched him steal a few more purses on his occasional trips into the city. He was good, and he hadn’t been caught so far. But it was only a matter of time. Then things might get unpleasant for the young thief. Despite that, there was something about him. Sentry often found her mind drifting back to his fight with the orcs on feast night. Most of the Travelers without major backing were meek and hesitant, something she would have to work hard to train out of them. Nathan Sutton was bold. Sentry still hadn’t decided if that was a good thing.

Today would be an interesting test. Sentry had noticed early in the day that she wasn’t the only one following the group. Nathan Sutton had already made enemies. That wasn’t inherently a bad thing. It was impossible to be great without drawing ire. But one had to be strong enough to survive when their enemies came in the night. This would be an opportunity to see what the Rogue was really made of.

She watched from her concealed perch as Nathan Sutton examined the ravine, clearly overwhelmed. She watched him freeze as his pursuer finally made his move, rushing from cover and moving in to attack.

Yes. It was going to be an interesting day.