With a loud ka-chunk, the bolt pierced the man’s skull and pinned his head against the sofa cushions. The pink gas turned to a red liquid as it poured from his mouth.

Screams and cries filled the air. People cowered behind the bar, locked themselves in their rooms, or ran out of the back doors.

The other two elves stared at the duo. The wood elf calmly wiped a dark liquid on their shortsword. The sea elf and stone elf prepped bolts in their crossbows.

Durge hastily took Ryder’s arm and led him down the halls.

The three elves pursued.

The two followed the frantic crowd through doorways covered with colorful veils and dark rooms lit by red candles until they reached the canvas-covered skies. The hysteria diminished once it was exposed to the loud and daunting market.

Ryder and Durge ran into the streets and ducked into an alley.

“They just killed him!” Ryder exclaimed. “He said someone was after him but—”

“Now we know who,” Durge said, scanning the streets.

“We have to get to the Guild Hall quickly before this enchantment dispels.”

“Aye. Wait—” Durge saw the three elves in the middle of the street. He saw the sea elf’s eyes turn white as pearls and the mark on his hand began to simultaneously burn.

Ryder grimaced as he held his wrist, “What is this!?”

Durge saw the elves staring in their direction, and when he looked back up from his hand, they were gone- lost in the current of the commonfolk.

“Whatever that man did to us, the elves are able to track it.”

Down winding streets and past sour-faced guards, the two entered random businesses and left through back exits. The mark faintly burned like a candle’s flame near the flesh. As the sun drifted to sleep, the elves followed them every step of the way.

They wore all-black clothing with minimal gear and weapons at their sides. The group was guided by the sea elf, the only one who was able to see two beams of light move across the city. The bright arcane light went through all manner of the physical and pierced the heavens above, allowing them to follow the young men it adorned into an empty courtyard.

A large oak tree canopied the cloister. Its leaves shadowing the stars of the moonless night. The two tried to exit to the east but were cut off by the wood elf. As he walked towards the center of the courtyard, his sword screeched while scraping along the stone.

The west and southern exits were also blocked, guarded by the sea and stone elf. Ryder and Durge’s backs were against the great tree. They’ve fought worse but the odds were against them. Durge had his shield and Ryder had his bow, but it was incomparable to the three seemingly professional killers.

“What do you want with us!?” Ryder yelled.

Durge readied his shield and stepped in front of Ryder.

The stone elf nocked a bolt into his crossbow again as the wood elf neared.

Ryder drew back his bow but the sea elf was already aimed at him.

A trail of ichor followed the scraping sword until the wood elf stopped an arm’s reach away from Durge.

Durge’s eyes darted from elf to elf in the standoff, his shield could only protect his upper torso. He was an animal trapped in a corner, he had nowhere to go and nothing left to lose. With a swift motion, he swung at the wood elf, only for his mace to be met with a clash. The elf hastily parried and smiled viciously.

At the sound of Durge’s yell, Ryder let loose his arrow at the sea elf. She turned to the side gracefully and avoided the arrow, but blood streamed from her ear. Ryder dropped his bow and reached for his sword but was thrust back when the sea elf’s bolt pierced his clavicle.

Durge heard the mechanism of the crossbow and prayed his friend was still standing as he cracked the wood elf’s skull with the edge of his shield.

When the ferocious elf fell to the stone floor, Durge rushed over to Ryder just in time to block a bolt coming from the sea elf again. He went to charge her but the stone elf shook their head with a smirk and aimed at the wounded Ryder.

Durge was cornered again, stuck as the shield to his companion.

The wood elf stood up, stumbling and furious. He grabbed his poisoned sword and was ready to slash at Durge’s shield until a booming voice rang from behind.

“Is my head not worth anything anymore!?” White light filled the courtyard, blinding all.

Ryder was unable to move but could see seven silhouettes approach closer with weapons drawn.

“Tell the Vultures to stop preying on Clay Ranks or I’ll tie you to the Pyres of Faewendral!” the voice commanded.

The elves loomed over the duo before backing off and sheathing their weapons as the saviors approached. “One out of three targets is enough to satisfy,” the stone elf said. The wood elf cackled as they walked away.

The bellowing voice appeared closer and knelt toward Ryder, placing one hand on his shoulder.

“Let me return the favor, Potion-Giver,” Catwood said.

Ryder wiped his mouth as the potion dripped from his lips. He winced at the dull pain he felt when the bolt was ripped from his collarbone and his wounds were tended to with heavy bandaging. After the potion fully settled, he began to feel warm and reinvigorated, as if he had been awoken from a restful slumber.

Durge sat against the tree next to Ryder, “How’d you all find us?”

Catwood smirked, “They’re not the only ones who can see your marks.”

A familiar scale-beast appeared next to him, his eyes faded from white into their natural bright green hue, “Anyone with a knack for conjuration can follow the beams that have been placed on you,” the beast said.

“How do we get them off?” Ryder mumbled.

Catwood lent a hand, “We’ll find you a healer at the Hall.”

As the group emerged from the courtyard and into the dark streets, they passed by Onnwall Brothel. Ryder saw a few guards surrounding the building, but they seemed to be enjoying the company of escorts while bearing heavy coin purses on their hips.

“Who are the Vultures?” Ryder asked.

“Unsurprising that no one has warned you of them yet. They’re a guild full of party killers and looters. They’ll usually leave you for dead or slay you outright after joining you on quests so they can take the full quest reward. You witnessed how they tried to kill me. I’ve been exposing their deeds to other parties and trying to get the Guild Hall to stand against them.”

Durge cocked his head, “Why won’t they?”

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“Gold. As is the answer for all reasons of ruin. I know not the full extent of their grip within the management of the Halls, but I will put an end to it one day.”

Ryder grimaced as the potion’s effect began to subside and the pain began to emerge, “Can we aid you at all?”

Catwood wryly laughed, “No, Potion-Giver. Let the Glorious handle it. For now, you should invest in a larger party… strength in numbers after all.

The Guild Hall was bustling with the usual cheers and songs of joy. Rose was at the front desk in shock as she saw Ryder being propped up by Catwood and Durge.

Catwood snapped his fingers and the familiar knight with the halberd approached. Catwood whispered something in his ear before they both headed upstairs.

Ryder leaned against the counter and spoke to the disapproving clerk, “Not the easiest quest we’ve done so far…”

“At this rate, you’ll turn into skeletons on the next quest! Clay-ranked quests are supposed to be easy!” Rose exclaimed.

“But we always finish them,” Durge said, revealing the mark on his hand.

Rose huffed begrudgingly and went to the backroom to confirm the completion and collect the reward. “For the delivery of a pouch of stems at Onnwall Brothel before midnight,” she mumbled before placing a scroll in front of them.

“What is this?” Durge asked. “Is this like more magical parchment or a spell for a—”

Ryder unfurled the scroll and his eyes dazzled at the sight of the map. It was a map of Maria and the local lands, including the harbors of Locria.

Durge gazed briefly at the map, “We can’t use this to buy food. But I guess we’ll always know where some is.”

A mage with a white cloak walked over to the counter and peered at the two.

“You’re the healer, right?” Ryder exhaled heavily as he sat on a nearby bench, “If you could fix my shoulder and get rid of this curse I’d—”

The mage silently put their hands over his collar and neck; a warm but painful glow embraced Ryder. Durge offered his health potion but Ryder refused; his bones and flesh were healed at the cost of a few tears that fell from his eyes.

The mage exhaled deeply but began to vanquish the curse that was placed on their palms. The white hood of the cloak obscured the face of the mage, but Ryder could make out the long strands of blonde hair that swayed under it.

The healer’s hands were soft and delicate as they grasped the duo’s. The same warm glow appeared in their palms but searing pain followed. It felt as if the mark was being filleted off their flesh.

When the mage was done and raised their hands, they removed their hood and caught their breath. The two boys saw a pale and elegant human face look to the heavens with shimmering blonde hair and a glowing jeweled chain across her head.

She took off her head-chain and left with haste. Ryder and Durge were bewildered at the silent mage but impressed when they saw their palms clear of marks.

“Why can’t we do that?” Durge jokingly asked.

Ryder looked longingly at his hand, “We should have them join our party.”

Durge scoffed, “We don’t even know what rank they were.”

“No, but we could ask,” Ryder got up, stretching and rolling his shoulder.

The mage was sitting across the Hall with their head down. A glass full of light blue liquid sat in front of them. As Ryder neared her table, a young man sitting next to her stood up and confronted him.

“Look at what you did to my sister! She’s out of commission for the rest of the night!”

Ryder was dazed by the beratement as Durge came over and became defensive in an instant.

“We didn’t force her to do anything, dickhead.”

Ryder held out his hands, “We were just saying our thanks. We know she helped us at the cost of exerting herself. It’s not much but here- for the troubles.”

Durge looked confused but Ryder nudged him to pass a few coins to the man.

The brother looked at the coins and his exhausted sister, “Tha—

“Thank you,” the mage muttered. She lifted her head and weakly smiled.

The brother nodded, “We appreciate it.”

“What rank are you two?” Durge asked.

The man lifted the tag from under his shirt, “I’m Copper. She’s still Talc. You?”

Durge quickly flashed the clay dog tag and put it back under his shirt.

“Are you two still novices?” the brother asked.

“We just completed our third quest,” Ryder said. “But we’re looking to do more. It’d be nice if we had more people to adventure with.”

The man bit his lip and looked at his feeble sister, they whispered to one another before the mage spoke. “You may join us if you’d like, but we have a third.”

Ryder looked around, “Where?”

As soon as he asked, a sharp point pressed against his back. Durge only noticed the fur-beast in the far corner of his eye. A 5-step high, slender gray-furred beast with a black mask pattern held a dagger to his back.

“People usually never know,” the beast said.

The man smirked, “That’s Scoundrel.”

“Or Scoun for short, or Drel for shorter,” the beast smugly said as he swiftly appeared behind everyone’s shoulder. “Who are you two?”

Durge and Ryder introduced themselves. The brother called himself Dalon and the sister was greeted as Bell.

“Let’s meet here at dawn. Maybe you’ll get a whiff of what a quest for Coppers is like,” Dalon said. He helped his exhausted sister from the table and left. Scoundrel was nowhere to be seen.

“Hm,” Durge said.

“What’s wrong?” Ryder asked.

“You sure about getting more party members? We tried this once before and almost got caved in.”

“I have no doubt that we can do quests by ourselves but we cannot be ambushed again,” Ryder pulled down the neck of his shirt, revealing his blackened and bruised collar. “I wouldn’t have made it tonight if it wasn’t for Catwood.”

“If you trust them, Rye. But if they start unloading bags on us or treating us like slaves because we’re lower-ranked, then I’d rather fail the quest.”

Ryder nodded, “Agreed. Let’s get some rest.”

As the duo exited the establishment, Rose followed quickly with a great ledger wrapped in her arms. “Wait up!”

Durge looked past his shoulder, “I didn’t even grip a tankard in there!”

Rose rolled her eyes and shook her head, “That’s not what I was going to say!”

She caught up with the boys and walked beside them under the moonless night.

“I went over the books today and you both qualify to rank up!”

Ryder and Durge were both amazed. Ryder tried to peek at the book she held but it was pressed tightly to her chest.

“I’ll properly announce it and mark it on your accounts in the morning. I figured you two could sleep on the good news, now you can take off those dusty clay tags and wear talc ones!”

“Even dustier…” Durge mumbled.

“Well, I have an early start tomorrow, so fare well!” Rose stopped at a corner of a nearby street and waved at them from afar.

Ryder waved with a wince back and proceeded walking, “And all we had to do was deliver a pouch of stems to rank up.”

“And take an arrow in the chest,” Durge added but was met with a weak shove from Ryder.

Their plates were empty and bellies full as they rested inside the warm tavern.

“How’s your slime friend doing?” Ryder asked.

Durge gazed at the vial, slowly turning it. “He seems fine. He doesn’t do much except crawl along the sides or eat the crumbs I give him.”

“He got a name?”

“Not yet. Haven’t thought that far ahead.” Durge nodded, “You find anything interesting in that book?”

Ryder pulled out the leather journal, flipped through a few pages, and placed the table candle next to himself. “There’s a lot to uncover. From what I read, I assume the author was an adventurer or explorer. He talks of caves, ruins, beasts, and equipment. Some of his entries are sporadic and short. Here, listen. ‘My companions and I have found the source. For not the sea but the sky. She calls.’ Like what do I make of that? And some of it are useful guides when he’s not being cryptic. I’ve only been skimming it when I get the chance but I think I read a page talking about slimes.”

Durge perked up, “What of them?”

Ryder held his tongue with his teeth while flipping through the pages. “Aha! ‘Slimes known to the commoner are dormant creatures but ones found in caves or the sea should be met with caution. Keep distance. Use flame. Escape.’ Huh. Didn’t know there were multiple types.”

Durge was staring at his slime, “You don’t think this guy is dangerous, do you?”

“Maybe if you stop staring at him like a plate full of pastries. I doubt he’s good for the stomach.”

Durge scoffed.

Upon returning to Dreadful Dreams for a short slumber, Skel held out his hand and waited for the shimmering golden coins to be dropped in his palm.

They both groaned and each gave a coin to Skel for the beds tonight.

“I can tell by the sound of your purses, that you both need to go on another quest,” Skel said in his grumbly voice.

Ryder scratched his chin, “The problem is that we don’t know how long quests will take and we don’t have enough gold to pay the nights in advance. We just want somewhere to store some of our possessions.”

Skel thought long, while invested in his book, “I’ll put an empty trunk in my room. You get to keep it under lock and key. A guest can rent the rooms you’re no longer using, and you can pay me to keep your valuables safe.”

“We still don’t have the gold. Perhaps we can work something out for you to protect the chest? What if we don’t have the coins but barter with something else?” Ryder said.

“Yeah, don’t you want some fancy candlesticks or more axes on your walls?” Durge added.

Skel smirked, “Just bring me whatever you think is valuable or useful. Don’t get too comfortable in those beds tonight, strangers will be renting them as soon as you leave.”

They were both thankful and relieved they were able to strike a deal with the orc. Ryder and Durge proceeded to their rooms, away from Skel.

Ryder grimaced and pressed on his sore collar.

“Guess we don’t have to stock up on health potions if we got one of those healers with us,” Durge said.

“No, but we wouldn’t have enough gold to afford them anyway. We’re living quest to quest at this point and always starting at zero. We need to start saving our pearls and work faster.”

“And how do you figure that, Sir Scholar?”

“A horse and a wagon, to travel faster and carry our belongings. Would be nice if we had a permanent residence somewhere too so we’re not pissing away our gold every night,” Ryder said.

“Can’t we just bury our valuables? Pirates have been doing it since the seas had water.”

Ryder softly slapped him upside his head, “You can’t even remember what you had for breakfast this morning, let alone where our gold would be buried. We can use a bank for our valuables, but I’m talking about the rest of our gear. The bank won’t house our junk without taking the coins in our purses too.”

“So if we can’t earn enough money are we quitting questing or…”

“Let’s see how a higher quest will reward us, we did rank up after all,” Ryder said.

“Maybe I’ll acquire enough pearls next time to hire two escorts.”

Ryder shook his head, “Gross. Go to bed, oaf.”