The fight lasted for just another minute before everyone seemed to calm down and return to their previous business of drinking, eating, and joking. Kellmen and Iam both returned to our table, where an elated Berieal was just dropping back down. The lochan excitedly offered his encouragement to his two companions. The Guildmaster seemed satisfied with the results, an exhausted energy emanating from him. The sidhe, on the other hand, looked almost pleased. His posture was relaxed, a mild swagger in his stride as he sat down gracefully at the end of the bench. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could just make out a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

Kellmen looked around the area for a moment, and when he spotted me, his smile grew, and he beckoned me over. Berieal was lying on the bar top again as I approached, unaffected by what had transpired. I was learning that Berieal seemed to be on his own plane of existence.

“Did you get any licks in?” Kellmen asked, handing me another full stein. His face had a couple of purple bruises growing on it, and his health bar had lost a few notches. I couldn’t see his percentage, but the bar was a lot longer than my own.

I took a drink and shook my head in response to his question.

“Nah, I was too busy cowering in fear,” I joked.

“I’ve got to piss,” Iam said and stood up and walked toward the door at the far side of the room. He turned right, down the hallway opposite the foyer. Berieal hopped up as well, bouncing down to the floor from his tabletop perch.

“That’s my cue for Ritual Meditation,” he said and went through the doorway as well, turning left. Faintly I heard him greet the innkeeper with a loud, “howdy!”.

Kellmen chuckled and sighed.

“I know you’re going to ask, so I’ll just tell you: Shaman need to meditate every evening to have access to their fey magick the following day.”

I nodded.

“That makes sense. Seems a bit time consuming, though.”

“It is, but it’s worth it,” Kellmen said, “that dude there can create a lot of carnage if necessary. He and Iam are serious powerhouses when it comes to Raids and Dungeoneering. We got to B Rank specifically because they had to duo The Yellow Vanguard Knight boss in the Uamh Fala.”

I looked back at the empty doorway where the two had disappeared into.

“How did that come about?” I asked. I would use any opportunity to learn about this world.

“Well, gimme a sec, and I’ll tell you,” Kellmen said, finishing his drink and raising a single digit to the bartender. He paused and looked at my near-empty mug and then raised a second finger. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was feeling a bit buzzed. I was still feeling those intense hunger pains and the reminder from my vision that I needed to eat.

When was dinner again?

When the sluagh approached with our drinks, Kellmen handed him more coins from his pouch and nodded at the man. He gratefully nodded back and hurried back to the bar.

“So,” Kellmen said, turning to face me, “where was I?”

“Yellow Vanguard Knight,” I stated.

“Yep,” he said and took a drink before wincing, “this is not the same drink.” I hadn’t noticed, they all tasted like gasoline to me.

“Anyway,” he started again, leaning forward.

“Uamh Fala. It was a secret dungeon that had shown up in quests for Level Tens and higher traveling on the Catspaw Trail from Drich Kel to Caraig Abhainn. A little old man would run up and tell you he saw a tremendous, horned flying beast pass overhead a few days beforehand. Anyways, it activated the Quest Logs, and a bunch of higher levels went out looking for it. After almost two weeks, some chick from the Hell Razors Guild stumbled on the entrance while grinding."

"So she got the Experience for the first-time discovery and was able to see that it was a Skully Dungeon. She got down as far as she could, finding some neat little lore nuggets before she was killed. She respawned outside the Dungeon and ran to let her other guildies know about it. Still, Hell Razors are only a D Rank with just a couple members able to handle big shit. So they knew they’d have to get some flavor in their mix to explore the Dungeon."

"Now, Hell Razors are good guys, for the most part. They haven’t really dialed in on what they want to be good at, so they are kind of all over the place. One of my buddies— Tuuvalu—is their third-in-command and told me they were looking for a big Raiding Party to take out the rumored big bad at the end. Someone the lore kept referring to as the Yellow Vanguard Knight. It sounded fun and difficult, so I told him we’d get a good team together and join up with them."

"But of course, no one can keep a secret here, and somehow Malicious Intent and the Holy Scubs found out! So, when our party shows up at the Dungeon, both guilds are already there and they are blocking our way in. We didn’t see any of their higher-ranked members, so we already knew that the rest of these guys were there to just keep us busy while their stronger members tackled the Dungeon itself."

"So this is bad, right? If we fight them head-on, we use up time and energy and spells and everything trying to get through. We knew we’d need to be at full rest to take on the Vanguard Knight. Stupid, right?"

"Well, Berieal gets this genius idea to sneak around the guys blocking our path while leaving the bulk of our forces out in front as a distraction. We only took ten of us, the five highest levels from each guild. Tibbets cast Nightstep one at a time on each of us and offered to hang back with the main group to keep their eyes on him. He’s good at that. Malicious Intent and Holy Scubs sort of messed up there in their plan. Nightstep is such a high-level spell that none of the low-tier guys would be able to detect it. It was easy as hell to bypass them."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

"So slowly, we go one at a time and reconvene inside the Dungeon. We follow the instructions we’d gotten from the Hell Razor guildie who was there already and somehow didn’t encounter the other Raid Party at all! A lucky break considering what was to come."

"We find the door to the boss’ lair and prepare ourselves. We can tell it’s pitch dark inside, so we get ready to cast some magick that makes light."

"The minute we enter, the door seals behind us, torches roar to life, and a loud cackling echoes off the walls. In the back of this massive cavern is a twisting and squirming giant in rusty yellow armor. Only his head, torso, and one arm are visible, and he thrashes around as it looks like he’s partially sealed into the cavern wall. He was roughly twenty feet tall all together, and his arm reached out another twenty. Scary as hell. It was a for-real nightmare."

"Well, he sends out a few mobs of creatures, and we make short work of them, but it’s tiring, and there’s been a lot of these creatures. Feychildren and goblins and faeries. Once they are gone, the YVK starts shaking and swiping at us. He’s also got a fey shield up that’s only able to be breached by fire magick. This is a bummer because we have no one who specializes in fire magick, and Tuuvalu is the only person with any fire magick at all. So he’s casting Firemark, a Level One fire spell that can get past the shield, while the rest of us try to attack the boss’ arm anytime it leaves the safety of the barrier to attack us. When that would happen, the Feychildren and faerie mobs would attack whoever was attacking the arm until they were killed."

"Then he takes me out. I’m the Guildmaster, and I’m the first one to go down in the fight. Dead. Not my proudest moment, but I’d had Tether activated, so I could still see what was going on around me."

"Slowly, the YVK starts whittling down our numbers until it’s just Berieal and Iam left."

"I can hear Iam cursing but in good humor, using every opportunity to attack the YVK’s arm anytime it left the safety barrier. Berieal is playing it safe and skirting near the back wall. He is staying out of range of the Knight’s swipe while also targeting the mobs with lower-level spells, getting rid of the others, but leaving the goblins for Iam. Goblins are the stupidest mob because they will act on their own a lot and attack whatever they want with whatever little spells and weapons they have. I can see that some of them are running around in circles and into the wall before Iam destroys them."

"At that point, I’m thinking we’ve lost the Dungeon, because the boss still has a quarter of his HP, and there was no way Intent or the Scubs weren’t going to eventually find the boss before we could get back there. So I’m watching and trying to strategize on how he attacks, when he attacks, cooldown time—that sort of thing. It’s kind of hard to do mid-battle when you’ve never fought something before, so if nothing else, it is suitable for if we were to get another shot to take him down."

"With no other distractions, I notice there’s a one-second delay when YVK casts his mob spell where his shield goes down behind him, leaving most of his back and neck exposed. When you’re dead, you can’t communicate for the whole six hours it lasts, so I was resigned to just patiently take mental notes and wait to respawn. But that’s when I realized something. The Shield value on the Knight’s barrier was almost gone! I couldn’t figure out how that was possible."

"Then I saw it. As the Knight cast his mob spell and his shield went down partially behind him, Berieal was casting Ice Lure! When the shield would go back up, the spell was still glimmering underneath the barrier. Then I watched as Berieal wiped out all but the goblins again. But this time I saw that those goblins that had looked to be running in circles were actually turning to defend their boss from the Ice Lure. With fire magick."

"They would cast their paltry fire spells, attempting to hit the lure and just hit the shield instead because goblins are, of course, stupid as hell. The Ice Lure only lasted for ten seconds before dispersing, so Berieal had a very narrow window of time to act to wear down the shield. He knew that if he didn’t kill the Feychildren and faeries immediately, that they would attack the source of the spell, AKA him. But goblins, they will attack the spell itself."

He paused, smirking at me.

"Did I mention that goblins are stupid?"

"It only took one more mob to get rid of the shield, and when it went down, Iam tore the YVK a new asshole while Berieal spent the remainder of his spells healing and buffing Iam."

"When the boss went down, both Iam and Berieal earned a shit-ton of coin and Experience and got a few sweet, rare items to boot! Most of the gang hadn’t seen what had happened, but I had. Berieal is a strange guy, but he’s a very talented strategist. He spends the majority of his coin on books that other players have written about the world and its monsters, and pores over them religiously.”

As Kellmen finished telling the tale, I realized my mouth was hanging open, dry as a bone. I had been so captivated by the story that I’d forgotten to drink from my mug. I quickly took a draught and found that the contents had gone flat and warm.

Yuck!

“You want to know the most impressive part?” Kellmen asked. He had not neglected his drink and was at the bottom of it, his speech a bit slurred toward the end of the story.

“Absolutely,” I said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Ice Lure has a two-point-five second cast time,” he smiled proudly and shook his head in disbelief, “which means Berieal would have had to start casting the spell before the shield went down. So there had been some other tell from the monster that no one else had seen. No one except Berieal.”

I was astonished that such an odd individual was capable of that much insight into a situation— enough to make split-second decisions from a first-time fight. I hadn’t known him long, but he didn’t strike me as being perceptive at all.

Will wonders never cease?

Iam hadn’t returned from his potty break, so I prodded Kellmen more.

“I suppose ‘take a piss’ is a euphemism for something?”

Kellmen nodded.

“You may have noticed, but Iam definitely likes his alone time. He won’t talk about it, but something has been bothering him since before we joined up together. I haven’t pried though, it’s not my place.”

I took a few more sips of the mug of ale before setting it down in disgust.

“Iam seemed pretty happy when you guys were in the brawl a little bit ago. Does he like to fight?”

Kellmen closed his eyes for a moment and then sighed. He lifted the mug of ale to his lips and finished it, setting the container down with a heavy hand.

“I’m not sure who told me this, but it seems relevant,” he said, opening his eyes and looking right back at me, “some people are only truly happy when there’s a battle to be had. Iam’s like that. I’m sure it goes beyond this place too. Whoever or wherever he was before, I’d be willing to bet all the coins in my pouch that Iam often found himself on the receiving end of a fist or a harsh word.”

I didn’t say anything. What would I have been able to say? I’d known these guys less than a day, and I’d been here in this world hardly longer than that. I’d just have to keep learning. That seemed safe. I thought about telling Kellmen about who I was before, but something held me back. I’d almost told them a moment ago, but the fight seemed to have wiped all of their memories of the conversation. Which was just as well. Thinking about revealing the information gave me anxiety. I knew it was irrational, but I was having an intense bout of imposter syndrome.

What if he thought I was lying?

I changed the subject.

“Well, what should we do now? I’m starving.”

Kellmen stood and cracked his knuckles, then stretched his neck to either side, and it popped both times as well.

“We have a bit of time before dinner,” he said and motioned toward the doorway. “so why don’t you get settled a bit? Let me know when you’re interested in having me look your sheet over. I want to make sure you’re as optimized as can be if you’re going to be joining the Beatdown Brigade when we get back home.”

“What?” I said, shocked, “you’re going to let me join the Guild?”

“Well, duh, man,” he said matter-of-factly, “you’re one of us now. We’ve bled together on the field of battle and are now brothers in arms.”

“I hardly think this counts. I came out second-best in a fight with a tankard.”

“Blood is blood,” Kellmen said, “and you can’t tell me otherwise. I’ve already made up my mind.”

He turned and in a few long strides, had crossed the room to the doorway before pausing and looking over his shoulder at me.

“Besides,” he said with a wink, “you’ve gotta pay me back for all that ale you just drank.”