“There is still much you will need to know,” Clayrell said as he stood. “But our time has run short, I’m afraid. So, I will condense the main points quickly.”

“What’s the rush?” Nate asked. This was the first time he had gotten any straight answers in almost a month, and he wanted to milk the opportunity for all that he could.

“Your companions,” Clayrell said. Nate shook his head in confusion.

“You said something about that before. But I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Two Travelers descended into the ravine to search for you after you fell. It was foolish, and the foolish usually die quick and painful deaths in Farandway. But it was also brave. To be successful in the tasks ahead, you will need companions. It would be a waste to lose two such so early on your path.”

“People came down to look for me?” Nate asked, surprised. His thoughts immediately leaped to Christophe. But that would be idiotic. The little mage was too weak, and too meek, besides. But who else would risk themselves like that for Nate?

“Indeed. And they are in dire straights at the moment. I am going to send you to them now. If you save them, their burgeoning loyalty may well be yours forever.”

“Me? What exactly do you think I’ll be able to…”

“Quiet now, Nathan. Listen.” Clayrell turned intense eyes Nate, who went still. “Ulvar asks much of you. But he gives something in return. Your tasks are great, and so, therefore, you must be clever and powerful to accomplish them. The clever part you must handle yourself. But Ulvar gifts will help you grow in power.”

“Gifts? What gifts?” Nate asked. Clayrell smiled. There was something wicked in the smirk.

“It will not be so easy. Nothing is given for free. For now, you will notice only a small difference, and it will be only become clear what that difference is when you gain your next level. As I told you, Ulvar will give you a series of tasks. Accomplishing each task will result in a new empowerment. See for yourself.”

Even as the man stopped speaking, a familiar icon began blinking in Nate’s vision. With a sigh, he focused on it, expanding the text box.

{New Quest!- Disturb the Peace

The governors of Dawn are figureheads, with the true power lying in the Factions. This is one of the key factors that has led to the corruption of Farandway’s training system. The Factions must be broken. Within the next 14 days, you must insight at least two of the city’s factions into open hostility with each other. This will be the first step in their downfall.

Conditions for Success: Formal Declaration of Hostility from at least 2 Factions within Dawn City. Time limit of 14 days.

Reward: ????????? }

Nate read through the prompt twice, sure he had misunderstood it the first time. Then he looked at Clayrell.

“You want me to get the Factions to declare war on one another?” He asked, incredulous.

“Succinctly put.” The old man murmurered, nodding.

“How the fuck am I supposed to do that?” Nate yelled, his eyes wide.

“I have no idea. But don’t worry. You have 14 days to figure it out.”

“And what happens if I don’t pull it off? Or make the deadline?” Nate asked.

“Then you will be the seventh Blade to fail in your mission. But don’t worry. Only two others have failed on the first task. I think your odds are good.”

“And what if I just say to hell with all this? Tell Ulvar to fuck off and forget about the whole thing.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Clayrell said. Suddenly, the old man didn’t seem so old. Physically he was the same. But there was an unmistakable aura of menace around him. “As long as you are a Blade, Ulvar’s intent will keep you hidden from the High King and his agents. But as a former Blade? No such protection will extend to you. The High King is very aware of the Blades of Ulvar. As soon as he becomes aware of your existence, he will stop at nothing to eliminate you.”

“What?!” Nate’s mouth fell open. “If I don’t succeed on every task, the High King will kill me?” Nate felt like a rat with his tail caught in a trap. “Why? If I fail, I’m no threat to him.”

“You’re no threat to him now. It’s not about the danger you represent. It’s the knowledge you have. Even the little I have shared with you is known by precious few. He will kill you simply to make sure that knowledge does not spread.”

Nate opened his mouth, though he wasn’t sure what he was going to say. He wanted to scream. He wanted to protest. Clayrell didn’t give him the chance.

“We are wasting time. Time your companions do not have. You have one more new resource, and this one is available to you already.” Clayrell glanced down meaningfully at Nate’s hand. Nate followed his gaze to the spider tattoo.

Do not fear. I will help you. You will not fail.

Nate flinched at the voice in his head. He looked to Clayrell, his anger still bubbling.

“How the fuck is a talking tattoo going to help me incite a war?!”

“Trini is far more than you think. First, she knows far more of this world than you do. She can serve as a guide. Second, she is more than just a tattoo.”

Nate flinched again as he felt the skin on the back of his hand almost ripple. With an odd shimmer, the tattoo shifted. And it was a tattoo no more. A spider with the weight of a stone was standing on the back Nate’s hand, its two front legs waggling in the air as if it was waving. Before he even had a chance to recoil, there was another shimmer, another ripple, and the tattoo was back.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“She is small, yes. But she is a master of stealth. And her venom is like nothing else in this world. You must guard her, as she is relatively weak in her current form. But her power will grow as yours does. Now, enough chitchat. It is time for you to go.”

Nate shook his head in consternation, but steeled himself, nonetheless. But nothing happened. Clayrell just continued to stand there. Nate squinted at him.

“I thought you were going to do something,” Nate muttered, glancing around the room. Nothing had changed.

“What can I do? You’re the one who needs to go to your friends,” Clayrell said. Then he waved a hand casually, pointing. At the empty fountain with its bottomless pit. “Enter the portal, and it will deliver you to them.”

Nate’s mouth went dry. He glanced over the edge, but he could see nothing. Nothing but endless black.

“What, just jump in?” His voice sounded a bit frantic, even to his own ears.

“Don’t worry. It will be fine.”

Nate continued to stare for a long moment. Then a thought occurred to him.

“You said these friends, whoever they are, are in trouble? Does that mean they are being attacked?”

“Oh, yes. I doubt they can last more than a few more minutes.”

“And I’m supposed to show up and save them?”

“I’m sure they will appreciate it.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Nate snapped. “The only skill I have that is worth a damn is for running away!”

“Ahh, yes. I almost forgot.” Clayrell smiled wickedly.

This had been a stupid idea. A very, very, painfully stupid idea.

“Another one behind you!”

Sentry snapped around, her blade whipping out to bang uselessly off stone hard scales. The blow managed to deflect the creatures lunge, but it still clipped her shoulder with the side of its head, sending her toppling to the ground again. She groaned, but immediately rolled, dodging a lashing tail and leaving blood from a dozen streaming cuts to mark her trail.

Ahead of her, Christophe was frantically trying to hold off two more of the big lizards. One of his magical lights was darting and zooming around the creatures’ heads as they snapped their jaws, trying to catch it. The little mage’s face was dripping with sweat. He had to be near his limit. When he fell, the light would vanish. Then they would die.

When the pair had managed to kill the first of the Stone Monitors, Sentry had felt a rush of excitement and pride. When two more appeared, she had been worried, but not terrified. They had managed to kill one of those two, and her confidence had grown. Then, while they were still dealing with their third lizard, two more had appeared. Then another.

Now there were five of the monsters, and all hope had fled. They couldn’t even run. The Monitors surrounded them, and they were surprisingly fast. The only miracle was that neither Sentry nor Christophe had been bitten by those poisonous jaws yet, though both were covered in bruises and cuts from claws.

{Sentry Warrior Level 3 HP: 11/30 MP: 5/5

Stats

Strength: 12

Constitution: 11 Free Points: 0

Dexterity: 8

Willpower: 4

Intelligence: 7

Charisma: 6}

With an effort, Sentry struggled to her feet and activated her most powerful offensive skill again. She blurred towards the closest Monitor, blade extended in her Executioner’s Thrust. The glowing tip of her sword hammered into the lizard’s side, managing to penetrate one of the scales. The Monitor hissed and jerked away, dark blood flowing down the new wound in its side.

It wasn’t enough. The beast’s scales were too tough. If she was only facing one, she could probably wear it down with enough time. But outnumbered by a stronger opponent? There was no chance.

“Ahhh!” Christophe’s voice rang out.

Sentry glanced over in panic, more out of fear of suddenly losing her only source of light than concern for the mage. The glowing ball still hovered above two Monitor’s heads, just out of reach of their snapping jaws. But a third had emerged from behind Christophe. He was dancing back, just managing to stay out of its range. But the lizard was quick. It would have him in moments.

This was it. All Sentry’s plans. All the promises she had been so intent to keep. All of it was about it end. And all because she had been stupid. Nathan Sutton was just a Rogue. There were a hundred others just like him, and she could have taken her pick. Why had she risked so much for this stranger? Because of a hunch? She had been stupid. And her stupidity was about to cost her everything.

The Monitor she had wounded approached again, jaws wide and long tongue flickering. There was something cruel in its four eyes as they fixed on her. It knew, too. Knew that she was doomed.

She lifted her sword, searching for the will to fight on.

There was a cracking noise, and the Monitor’s head jerked to the side. Something had struck it, and an unidentifiable liquid had splashed across the creature’s face.

The Monitor roared, a terrifying sound that echoed off the ravine’s walls. But there was another sound. Like sizzling meat.

As Sentry watched, the scales on the Monitor’s face began to bubble and blister. The creature writhed back, slamming its head to the stone floor of the ravine and twisting around, trying to rub away noxious liquid that was scalding it.

Crack! Crack!

The same sound as before, and this time Sentry caught the blurring motion in the air as two objects sped through the air to strike two more of the Monitors. Again, there were the roars, the sizzling, and the swirls of motion as the lizards writhed in pain. The remaining two Monitors stopped their attempts to snuff out Christophe’s light and looked to their brethren, something like fear on their reptilian faces.

Crack!

This time Sentry got a better look. A small object, no bigger than a stone, has blurred across the battlefield. This one wasn’t as well thrown as the others. It landed next to one of the untouched Monitors and shattered like it was made of glass, casting that same liquid out in a small wave. Some of the liquid splattered, splashing across the monster’s feet. It recoiled as if stung.

The lizards who had regained been struck had regained their feet, though they still twitched and cawed in pain. The nearest turned its gaze to Sentry, and the sight made her blood curdle. One side of its face had been melted away, and two of its eye sockets were now empty. The beast snarled, and Sentry prepared for its charge. Instead, it raised its head and made a rough coughing noise.

All the other Monitors responded instantly. With a series of hisses and snarls, they all turned and fled, disappearing back into the darkness.

The leader glared at Sentry for a moment longer, hatred blazing in its two remaining eyes. Then it, too, turned and ran.

In moments, only Sentry and Christophe remained. The mage, covered in sweat and blood, walked over to her on shaky legs, smiling broadly.

“Well done, you! What were those things you hit them with? I wish you had done it sooner. Not that I’m complaining,” Christophe said, struggling to catch his breath.

“I didn’t do anything,” Sentry said. Christophe looked startled.

“You didn’t? Then who…”

“Hey there, roomie,” came a voice from the darkness. Christophe and Sentry both turned.

A figure emerged into their small circle of light. Nathan Sutton stood there, grinning, bouncing what looked like a small stone on his palm.

“Don’t worry. I don’t think they’ll be coming back. Those scales of theirs might seem tough. But it turns out they have a weakness to water. Can you believe it? Water.” Nathan Sutton chuckled and shook his head. Sentry looked at the stone he was holding and saw that it wasn’t a stone. It was some kind of glass capsule, with a small amount of liquid bouncing around inside.

She noticed something else. He had a dark mark on the back of his hand. A tattoo? Sentry had been observing this man for weeks. How had she never noticed that before?

“Nate!” Christophe cried, darting over to the man with surprising agility. In moments, he had wrapped Nathan Sutton up in a tight embrace. “You’re alive!”

Nathan Sutton patted the smaller man’s shoulder awkwardly.

"We came to rescue you," Christophe said, his voice muffled against his companion's shoulder.

“I’m good, buddy.” Then he looked at Sentry. They locked eyes.

“Hey, there,” the Rogue said, disentangling himself from the still exuberant Christophe. “I’m Nate. Who exactly are you?”