Your summoning parameters are as follows:

1. You are being summoned by a magical device.

2. Summoning tier, 1.

3. Summoning rank, 0.

4. Rewards level, nominal.

5. This summons is training related with a moderate chance of combat. Prepare accordingly.

6. Forced compliance is active.

7. Your armory loadout has been activated.

I stepped from the portal and into a dark alleyway, my nose assaulted by the smell of raw sewage and rotting vegetables. Not sure where I was, I stayed still and tried to follow the link to my summoner to see what the heck I had gotten myself into this time. It was supposed to be a training mission, but what kind of training went on in a dark, garbage strewn alleyway?

“There you are, what is your rank and tier summoned creature?” An elderly man asked as I stood there. I could see the link between the wand he carried and myself. He had used a wand, not a spell to bring me here.

“I’m tier one, rank zero,” I replied, having no reason to attempt to resist giving that information.

“What is you class?” A second, younger voice asked.

“Do not answer that,” my summoner commanded before turning his attention to younger man standing next to him. My eyes were starting to adjust to the dark, and the dim glow of the city around us allowed me to make out the forms of my summoner and several other hooded and cloaked figures in the alley with us.

“You won’t always have complete information on your target, and if there is limited information from the contract, I expect that you’ll also have limited time to stalk and observe. This is a test of your tracking and combat skills, not a threat assessment activity, you’ve done plenty of that with your other instructors,” the old man said, his raspy voice sounded like he had either had surgery on his throat recently or was a five pack a day smoker.

“How many are out there?” One of the hooded figures asked, her voice sounded young, but devoid of any emotion.

“Three others are being released at various points of the city. You four need only worry about this one, he is your task. The task is to track and eliminate,” the old man said before turning back to me. Being tracked and eliminated didn’t sound like much fun, but it wasn’t something I was willing to pop a notice of cessation for, at least not yet.

“You will do your best to evade these four, run, hide, and try to stay alive until your summoning runs out. Do not defend yourself. The chase will begin in one minute,” I was ordered. Great, I was the fox, and these were the hounds. Worse yet, I had my teeth pulled and couldn’t fight back if and when I was finally tracked down.

Compulsion kicked in and I ran out of the alleyway and into a strange city that I had never been to before. It was your typical medieval-looking city and wouldn’t have been too out of place if it had been dropped into 8th century Europe. The compulsion to run wore off as I continued to jog down deserted streets.

I was supposed to hide from the four that were going to track me. From their look, these weren’t just normal soldiers using summoned beings as target dummies, no, these looked like the type of folks that didn’t want their activities to be spotted. My best option wasn’t hiding in another alley or climbing onto the roof of a building.

I think my best bet is heading to where there are other people, a place where I could lose myself in the crowd. I turned from the narrow back streets that I was on and found a main street with regular lanterns giving the place a bit of light. Only a few people were out, and most were stumbling along, trying to find their way home after having a few too many at the pub.

That was probably my best bet, a pub with a good crowd. I passed by one smaller place, but it seemed like a place where everyone knew each other, and I would stand out like a sore thumb. Further down the street a larger tavern and inn seemed to be attracting a sizeable crowd. I didn’t know how long the wand would keep me summoned for, but it couldn’t be all that long. Since I was only tier one, rank zero, the wand wouldn’t be a high-level device, and I’d say my visit was going to be, at most, just under an hour.

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A burly, and far too hairy guy that looked like he might have been the son of bigfoot acted as bouncer outside the tavern. He waved me in, my armor and weapons didn’t seem too outside the ordinary given the other people that were coming and going. Pipe smoke and the scent of spilled ale assailed my senses as I entered the crowded place. A long bar that looked like it had been stolen from an old western movie stood on the far wall, and several bartenders tried to keep the drinks flowing as servers shouted their orders.

I bumped my way past several people, trying to find somewhere to hole up and plan my next step. Large, densely packed communal tables occupied the center of the room, and booths with a bit more privacy lined the walls. My instinct was to find a booth that was empty and try to keep an eye on the crowd to see if any of the four people tracking me showed up.

As appealing as that option seemed, I figured I was better off staying in plain sight at one of the tables. I found an open spot and tried to flag down a server. It was then that I realized I had zero funds on me, an oversight in my loadout that I’d have to fix the next time I hit my personal space. I wondered what would happen if I took money with me on a summoning and was robbed or commanded to give it to my summoner.

Would the money stay here, or would it be returned to me when I reappeared in my personal space? Given that all my gear was recreated when I returned, I had to believe that coins would do the same. I’d feel a little bad about stiffing someone when the coins disappeared, but I would only be spending money when the circumstances warranted it. There was no way I’d want to rip off someone that worked hard for their money, like a server.

“Hey mate, what’re you drinkin’ tonight?” the man next to me, who seemed to have had more than a few already, asked.

“Nothing yet, came all the way out here this fine evening and forgot my coin purse,” I bemoaned.

“Never fear, I’ll stand you for a pint. You’re a stone mason ain’t ye?” He asked. I looked the man over, and he was wearing rough-spun work clothes and had the thick calloused hands of someone who did hard physical labor for most of his life. Around me, the rest of the men at this end of the table seemed to be cut of the same cloth as my new friend.

“Sorry, not a stone mason, just an adventurer that might have sat at the wrong spot,” I apologized, realizing that I’d inadvertently crashed their party.

“Adventurer you say, well, every day spent hewing stone is an adventure, so let’s just say he’s one of us tonight. What do you think lads?” the jovial mason asked the dozen or so drinking buddies around him.

“Give the adventurer a drink, we’ll make him an honorary stone mason tonight,” another of the men replied as he threw something into my face.

My hand went to my hammer when I realized he wasn’t trying to attack me or do any harm. The man had just pulled a handful of dust from one of his pockets and tossed it on me. Dust and stone chips stuck to the thin sheen of sweat on my face from the short jog here and the heat of the tavern.

“Baptize him as a true mason lads, what’s your name, friend?” the mason asked as he and the others also tossed rock dust and stone chips on me from their pockets. I bet the stuff got into every nook and cranny of their clothes after a hard day of work shaping stone.

“I’m Rico, what’s yours?” I replied with a smile as the man poured me a drink from one of the pitchers on the table.

“Davie my friends call me,” the mason said, spilling a bit as he topped off his own cup.

“Good to meet you Davie, and all of you as well,” I said raising my glass to the other masons at the table. “A toast to all you masons, and your generosity to stand a man for a good pint,” I said, which elicited a small cheer from the group.

The ale wasn’t that great, and I could tell it had been watered down a bit. Given the state that most of the masons were in, I doubted they would have noticed. The innkeeper must have been a shrewd one, realizing what tables were too drunk to care that their ale didn’t pack quite the same punch. Too bad I didn’t have coins with me today or I’d buy these happy and generous guys a round of the good stuff. When my coins disappeared, it would serve the tavernkeeper right for watering down the drinks.

Another round of dust from one of the masons hit me right in the left eye. I was more than happy for that little ritual to be completed. The masons seated around looked at me in shock as I slid off my stool and onto the floor. It was then that the pain hit me, it hadn’t been dust that had just hit me in the face, it was a blade that was sticking out of my eye socket.

I could feel the pain but couldn’t seem to move. My body wouldn’t respond to my commands, and my vision in my other eye began to fade as shouts of alarm and outrage from the masons filled the tavern.

You have been stabbed through the eye with a throwing dagger. The damage from the wound, combined with the yellow viper venom coating the blade have killed you. Your summoning is now complete.

Your performance rating is calculated as Average.

Your rewards will reflect the summoning tier of 1, rank 0, and your performance rating of Average.

You have earned 4 experience points.

Congratulations, you have reached tier 1, rank 1.

You have earned 3 summoning points.