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"Bad news... we're weak. Like, really weak. We're ranked F. And the only person in the building who's killed something, is Lila," he gestured back at me and the assembled persons look at me with confusion.

"She killed that Warg that went up to level 8," he added.

There was realization, even relief. And then further confusion as they looked me over again.

"My menu says she's a crafting spellcaster class," a woman with curling black hair in a ponytail tilted her head. "I'm a crafter, sure, but I'm a 'trap' crafter."

"I can create spellcards, which hold spells for later use- and inscribe sigils on things other than paper with the ink provided," I replied. "Such as a weak barrier on a door or piece of armor... or a burning rune on a knife from my kitchen, which is how I killed the Warg."

One of the men laughed shortly. "Sure, she took down a Warg with a kitchen knife. What’s next? Scaring them off with a stern look?"

He looked vaguely similar to those... what are they called? The men who look boyish in popular culture? Not a boy band member, but something similar.

"The Warg is still dead in her apartment if you'd like to verify," Grand said. "I don't understand the attitude. Don't have a reason to lie. She's only here to offer support to the party, so it's not like you'll be relying on her to kill anything today. She just knows what it's like to fight one and you're going to need to fight quite a few to get a new skill."

"If she knows more than us, we should probably at least listen to the story," another man said. He was black with a well-manicured beard and short locs.

"Oh sure," the boyish one said. "Regale us!"

"Derek," the man standing slightly behind the rest said the boyish man's name with a tone of warning. "We're here to work."

"Whatever man," Derek mutters.

"First, why don't we introduce ourselves," Grand said. "I'm Morrigan Grand. You?"

"Jamal Edwards," the black man with short locs. "I'm a Seedwarden."

Derek made a loud scoffing noise. "What!? What the hell kind of class is that?"

"It's a druid class," I replied with a twinge of irritation breaking through. "Considering it's about seeds, I'll assume it's something to do with plant control. That can be useful for controlling the battlefield."

"So you're a nerd, too?" Derek asked with a smile, but I didn't think he was joking. I'm not an expert, though.

"What are you, twelve?" the woman with curly black hair asked. "I'm Marisol Vega, I'm a Tinker."

"Carlo Ruiz," the man in back said. "Urban Ranger."

"Derek," Marisol prompted. "Name and Class."

"Why the fuck should I?" he asked. "Like this guy is our boss or something?"

"If you'd prefer not to come along to earn a Skill, that's fine," I said. "No one is required to come. But if you withhold your class, we won't know how to work with you."

"Pff," he flapped his hand at me. "I'm like one of the assassin guys or something. What's it matter?"

I checked his information by focusing on him. Marisol had just done it, which clued me in on the fact that it can be done. So I looked at him and thought 'Profile' because it was the only word I could think of that didn't refer to him as a 'character'.

It doesn't show everything, but it shows the basic information. Age range, weight range, the name of his Starter Equipment which is just 'Unassuming Set'.

Class: Stealth Combat

So that fits what he's saying, but.

"I'm not making you part of the party if you're just gonna be a little snot AND you're not a team player," Grand said suddenly. "This is a JOB I'm assigning you for the Building. In the future, we'll be able to make this place a guild, maybe and I can pay you in guild currency when that time comes. But either way, how you perform now is going to determine whether anyone wants to hire you in the future. So either beg off or tell us your class and then shut up."

"He's a Backbiter," Carlo spoke with finality. "It's a class that has to wait for an enemy to be vulnerable."

"What the fuck, how did you know that?" Derek demanded and turned to stare at him with a red face.

"I'm an Urban Ranger. Seeing detailed information about the armor and weaponry you're using and checking the class glossary..."

Ping.

Fucking christ.

"Well, thanks for fucking outing me!" Derek said. "I'm not as effective a fighter if everybody knows what I am!"

"Were you intending to betray us or murder someone in the building?" I asked.

He looks at me with wide eyes. "What the fuck are you saying!? Of course not!"

"No no, she's got a point," Marisol said. "You only aren't effective because your target knows, isn't that right?"

"Ugh, I just wanted to surprise you with my moves," he said. "They're really cool!"

"Show us, then," Carlo said and gestured to the front door. "There's a Warg just down the street. I was looking at it earlier from my window."

"Fine!" Derek said and attempted to strut powerfully to the door. But it was more of a strange stomping thing... I wasn't even sure if 'strut' was what he was actually going for.

"Let's follow him," Marisol said as he left and trotted after him. "Don't want anybody to die yet!"

"We still have to create the party!" Jamal said as he rushed after her.

Carlo waited for me. He walked next to me as we left the building and we snuck with the others along the wall of the apartment building. As the Warg down the street was faced the other way, apparently eating garbage out of an overturned dumpster. He stayed near me as we crept closer, boxing me in against the wall of the building.

It wasn't difficult to figure out what he was thinking.

Protect the spellcaster. It was a common enough strategy when one is on a Quest in an RPG. The mages and healers need to be backed up by melee fighters and protected, because they're fragile. It's the tradeoff for being so powerful and useful.

At least I knew that one of them would watch out for healers and other personnel sent with them on Quests. That was good information to have.

Derek strode down the street, freezing when the Warg perked its ears. Apparently, he hadn't considered the fact that it might be able to hear him. It went back to eating shortly afterward and Derek switched to creeping.

"He's going to fail," Jamal said. "How do we keep him from dying?" He was muttering, thankfully.

"I got some stunners ready to go," Marisol said.

"I'll get its attention," Carlo said. "Can you wrap it up once it goes down?" he asks Jamal.

Jamal nodded.

Derek was wielding a pair of incredibly small knives. So small that I could barely see them from this distance, even though they were very clearly clutched in his fists. As he crept up behind the Warg, I thought-

Surely, he isn't going to simply walk up and stab it with those tiny little things?

But indeed, he leapt upon the thing with what he obviously thought was a mighty Roar. Stuck his tiny little needle daggers into the beast’s hide… and of course, they pierced through.

Unfortunately, the daggers were about four inches long, so when they pierced through the hide, it was really only enough to enrage the Warg and give Derek a handhold. And boy did he need it.

The Warg screamed, there really is no other way to say it. It was high-pitched and it grated on the ears.

Derek also screamed, though he was drowned out by the Warg to some extent. And still, nobody moved, because he was fine. He was just hanging off the back of a bucking Warg.

It thrashed, tried to throw him off but he had a death grip.

There was a memory that was sparked by the vision of Derek being flung around in every direction as the Warg tried to detach him from its ass.

When I was young, my mother had some weird obsession with making me into a horse girl of some kind. I wasn't very feminine and this seemed to worry her for some reason. She didn't seem to care if I turned out gay or anything, just thought that a woman should behave a certain way, or something.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

She took me to some kind of Rodeo Show and there were bucking Broncos.

Derek didn't have the same control or skill as the men who were riding those Broncos, but he flailed around about as much as those who were flung from their saddles and kept a grip on the saddle horn.

Eventually, he seemed to realize that he had to let go or this thing was going to slam him into something, very hard. So he released his grip and instead of being slammed into a wall, he was thrown into one.

Derek crumpled, but he didn't seem badly hurt. He just sort of sat there looking dumbfounded.

It wasn't long before the Warg realized that its passenger had disembarked, though when it tried to whirl on Derek, Carlo was there.

He instantly had a throwing axe in hand that I knew he didn't have a moment before. And hurled it with a grunt.

The axe buried itself in the Warg’s right shoulder with a noise akin to beating meat with a hammer. This effectively drew the Beast’s attention and had it turning toward us with all the fury it could muster, screaming even louder.

Marisol rushed out in front of Carlo to throw a bunch of metal balls all over the ground in the Warg’s path. Then promptly turned and ran. I ran with her but Carlo trotted after us at a much more sedate pace. She and I took cover behind a nearby car and watched.

The Warg came rushing sloppily down road, limping until he stopped trying to put weight on that front right leg. Soon encountering the shiny metal balls that Marisol had spread across the ground. It didn't even appear to think to avoid the shiny metal balls, then went rigid and dropped.

Jamal was already moving closer to the Warg and had seeds prepared in his hand apparently, as when he got close enough, he threw them.

I don't know how else to describe it, as my vocabulary for magical happenings is quite small. I'm usually reading the descriptions or watching a scene on my screen.

It grew, or bloomed if you so please, though there were no flowers. Sprouted vines which grew exponentially with every passing moment. The Warg appeared to still be stunned, as the Vines grew around it in a choking tangle. The Warg twitched, whimpered and appeared to soil itself. It couldn't really move, bare its teeth or even growl at us. Seemed a bit unfair, even.

Especially when the vines had completely entangled it and began to turn dark brown and hard. Like they were petrifying.

Carlo stepped forward and used his other throwing axe to split the Warg's skull. In all, it took him three really good swings. He seemed quite at home with using an axe.

"Well, that's that," Jamal sighed. "I just wish we could have killed it quicker and cleaner, so much pointless suffering."

"Don't sympathize with the monsters that invaded Earth and tried to eat us," Marisol said.

"He's allowed to be upset that he's causing suffering, as long as he still kills the thing," said Carlo. "How 'bout it? Did we kill it faster or easier than you did?"

I realized that last part was directed at me and looked up at him. "It took you less time than it took me, but you had to use multiple skills and attacks. All I had to do was put a barrier on a door and then stab it with a knife that I had inscribed with a burn enchantment."

"Ooooh, so we're tied," said Marisol.

"What, are you kidding me?" Derek made an appearance. "She said we killed it faster, and she just got lucky with it slamming itself stupid into a door."

"And where were you?" Jamal asked him while lifting his brow just ever so slightly.

"It threw me into a wall!" Derek protested. “And I got first blood in.”

He seemed very proud of the stupid thing he said. But I didn't have the energy to correct him on all the points he was wrong. Luckily, Marisol had an abundance of energy to share, apparently.

“You mean you got thrown into a wall after stabbin’ it in the ass,” she said while pointing at him very emphatically. “And then left us to deal with the pissed off Warg while you sat your ass on the ground and sulked.”

“Hey, I could have a concussion, bitch-”

Carlo, who had retrieved both of his throwing axes, used the butt of one of them to sock Derek in the gut- who promptly bent over gasping and coughing and sputtering.

“I don't think you're in a place to be throwin’ around names,” Carlo said, then turned his attention to us. Briefly, he licked his lips and his eyes flicked down.

“We didn't make a party, so I got all those points from landin’ the final blow,” he said. “I'm thinkin’ we need to make one before we go anywhere else.”

“So we just killed a Warg, and we're not getting anything out of it?” Derek huffed, gripping his middle and speaking in a labored fashion.

“Marisol, Carlo and Jamal just killed a Warg,” I said to Derek. “I didn't do anything and you were apparently too injured to help beyond the initial strike. Considering Carlo is the one who killed it, he should get the points. If the rest of us want points, we'll just have to contribute to the next battles while part of a party.”

“So…” Jamal glances around. “Who's going to be the party leader?”

“I call party leader!” Derek said, shooting upright with a hand in the air.

Everyone ignored him.

“Party leader isn't even a special thing,” Marisol said. “They just decide when to disband it.”

“Yeah,” Derek said in aggravation, noticing that no one was looking at him. “So anybody can do it.”

I felt I had to inform them of the potential dangers.

“If you leave the party early, you forfeit all of your points and other Rewards. And the party leader is the one who decides when you disband, so they could, in all honesty… make a party, take them on a mission… and then simply refuse to disband until everyone leaves the party.” The Codex entry might've implied it, but it certainly didn't spell it out.

Marisol swore in what sounded like Portuguese. “So you have to pick someone you trust not to be a skeevy little conniver.” She glanced over at Derek. “So Derek’s out. I don't trust this guy not to try and sniff my hair, let alone let me out of a party with all my points intact.”

Derek almost seemed tempted to retaliate in some way until he saw Jamal and Carlo staring at him, waiting to see what he would say or do.

“I have to have a good working relationship with you as I am not transient. Nor am I an overgrown child looking to show off to feel important. The rest of you could leave, but I have a child to care for in this building. When choosing a party leader, taking those things into consideration is probably wise," I said. "If one of the other of you have any reason you cannot leave this building, at least for now, that would be a good enough reason to make you party leader. Nobody wants to piss off the people they're going to have to live and work with for an extended period of time.”

Derek actually seemed to miss the fact that I was making commentary on his childish behavior-

Either that or he'd resolved not to say anything no matter what, out of fear of Carlo and Jamal 's reaction.

“That's a good point,” Carlo said. “You’ve got family to provide for, so that probably means you ain't gonna do nothin’ that could threaten your position here. I got siblings and parents, but I could only contact my brother and sister. And they don't live here. My abuela lives here, but that's my only connection.”

Jamal spoke next, “I have family in another state and might leave to find them if I can't contact them all. Got a hold of my nana, cousins and an uncle. Nobody else yet.”

“I wasn't in contact with any of my family,” Marisol said. “Good number of ‘em died during the recession crisis.”

Calling it a recession was quite polite. It would be more accurate to call it the hostage negotiation enacted by the government and every rich person in America. They refused to pay a living wage and Americans refused to work for peanuts.

Which of course, ultimately resulted in a standoff. A lot of people died because they couldn't support themselves and their families. And the more people died, the more people got angry.

We'd only just recently come to an agreement on an equivalent pay system that would enable billionaires to continue to collect profits while also providing for their employees. Their profits came slower, but didn't stop, which is likely the only reason they even considered accepting it. They were losing profits every day that people refused to work, so slower profits was better than no profits.

“Looks like Lila’s it,” Carlo said. "Now we just have to convince Derek."

It was then I realized Phobos was gone. "My familiar?" I looked around.

Theirs aren't around either, and weren't this whole time. I have to be more vigilant than that!

"Oh didn't you know?" Marisol asked and said the name 'Bebê'.

A small robot toy appeared in her hands as she held them out. "They only come when called when you're out in the world."

Ping!

I'm going to severely beat whoever built the system.