《The Law of War Online - Level 1》


 Prologue: The Leaders

    As three Soldiers appeared in front to block his path through the forest, Lucas darted to his left through a tough tangle of bramble and nettle. ''This way!'' He called to his partner behind him. His woollen robes caught a sharp branch and tore as he sped on by. Broadway followed him close. Her leather and steel armour proved less of a burden when moving through the brush. Behind them were the shouts of angry pursuers.


    When he left the undergrowth, Lucas stumbled into a clearing in the forest. Green moss covered bumpy ground, tall trees grew up in a large circle around him. The canopy merged together above with only a small gap. A single beam of light shone through. Broadway made to exit the bushes, but a bramble caught her foot and toppled her. She fell hard against the ground, scrambled quick to her feet and drew a longsword from her hip. She turned around to defend against anyone who may have caught up to her and tripped her. There was no one, only shouts coming from a distance.


    ''We can''t run forever, it''s been days...'' Lucas was worn. His skin dashed with red scratches from the recent path through vine and thorn.


    ''We can''t hold against that many, Lucas. Just keep running!'' Broadway grabbed her partner''s shoulder and pulled him through the clearing. When they passed beneath the pillar of light she found the man unmovable.


    ''No. They''re going to catch us sooner or later.'' He was stone. ''I won''t have enough energy to go on if we keep running.'' He shook her off.


    ''Lucas...''


    ''Listen to me.'' He turned away from her, toward the direction of the shouts,. ''There''s enough room for the Avatar here, I can block their path but you have to keep running.''


    ''Without you?'' She shouted. ''I''m not going to leave you!''


    ''Stop it!'' He snapped, looking her in the eyes. ''I have room here to take care of them alone, if you stay you''ll be in the way. The Avatar could hurt you.'' Broadway tried to touch his arm again, but he pulled away. ''I''ll come back to you alive. Don''t worry, just get out of here!''


    The woman nodded, fear in her eyes. She began to run, Lucas'' voice calling behind her. ''Stay safe and don''t stop running, I''ll catch up to you.''


    She swallowed hard as she fled the clearing, through the trees and beyond. Behind her were more shouts and a familiar cry. Loud and echoing. The ground shuddered as she ran, making her stumble. Lightning cracked above her. Crows cried and flew from the trees, overtaking Broadway, lifting past the canopy and into the sky.


    She crossed small streams and uneven terrain with high jumps and quick footwork. The air sang past her ears as she sprinted. Her sword blade reflected the colour of the world around her. So fast she went that she lost all sound of what was happening behind, and came too quick on the change in terrain to realise the misfortune ahead.


    The forest ended and grassland began. Awaiting her was a Swordsman wearing a steel breastplate with black leather armour everywhere else. With him was a retinue of chain-mailed soldiers, baring swords and spears and bows.


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    Broadway did as Lucas had told her, strive for safety. She leapt high into the air and over the foe, rather than engage them. Swords and spears reached to catch her, but it was an arrow that took her and brought her down. She landed on the other side of them, dropping heavy to her knees, a quiver in her shoulder.


    The enemy soldiers charged with their blades leading, but Broadway rolled away and turned with a slash of her sword. It caught the shaft of a spear and knocked it aside. The point of her blade found its way to the spear user''s belly, then the thigh of another. The men came for her, but she answered their advances with bloody murder. She screamed with each thrust and cut. She grunted when someone''s boot took her in the back, but returned the gesture from the air. Jumping and kicking back into an unprotected face.


    She was fast, skilled. Men fell about her, but so did arrows. Soldiers with crossbows were aiming to take her, but she had their number. She jumped over two others and headed for the crossbowmen, tossing her sword at one of them as she did. The sword spun through the air and took a man in the chest as he reloaded. Broadway drew a dagger from her belt and started for another target. Her short blade was thrust out at the enemy Soldier''s throat, just as he managed to reload his crossbow. The man panicked and fell back to the ground, evading the deadly move. His crossbow loosed and the bolt punched through the light steel armour over Broadway''s chest. She cried, but fell on the man with angry fast stabs all the same.


    Her vision filled with weeping red as she punched hole after hole into her foe, then a flash of white came. She found herself looking up at a white cloudy sky, a boot mark on her face. Then she was looking up at the Swordsman, the edge of his great sword whistling towards her. She rolled and kicked out, evading the heavy blade and knocking the Swordsman back.


    The man advanced on Broadway, swinging at her neck. She ducked under the attack, then jumped over the second swing into a roll across the green grass. The enemy followed while she sprinted through the dead, looking for a weapon.


    A short sword was clutched in a fallen Soldier''s hand, but the hand was not attached to its limb. She did not recall having done that... Still, she scooped up the weapon, minus the mailed hand, and swung it behind her as the enemy gained. Some backed off, others increased their speed and tried to run her off her feet.


    Broadway turned on them and slashed, but this new sword was shorter and lighter than she was used to. She was out of range. The Swordsman was not. His great sword reached her sword arm and dashed the shorter weapon to the ground. A combination of slashes ensued and Broadway did all she could to stay alive. She crouched under one attack, her braided brown hair trailing and halving as the great sword sliced through it. She rolled to the side, out the way of a downward slash, but it caught her foot. Broadway cried out as she stumbled to her knee. She scrambled away before the sword could take her in the back of the neck.


    The world was a haze and she was losing her senses with the loss of her health. She could not win. Her life was draining away with each heavy swing of the sword.


    When some sense finally did return, she found herself with her back to a tree. Meanwhile the Swordsman and his remaining men gathered to surround her. Her breathing was heavy and her armour red with blood. An arrow was sticking from her shoulder, her sword hand was made useless with wounds, and her feet and legs where cut and battered.


    She knew it was the end, her stamina was spent, her life was low. She wanted to live. The game appeared to want her to die. ''Don''t-'' She tried to plead, as the great sword pierced her through her chest.


    Her head hung to one side in defeat, just in time to see Lucas exit the tree line. He looked her way, stopped in his tracks and then screamed out in terror and anger and anguish. She lifted her hand to reach for him, but like with that bloody short sword, she was out of reach. Too far out of reach.


    Lucas ran for her as the great sword was pulled free of flesh, steel and wood. Broadway fell to the ground.


    The bodies of the slain began to disintegrate to white glitter, but Broadway''s broken form was taken instead with pink light and energy. She vanished from the world, leaving Lucas running into the midst of the enemy.

 Chapter 1: Ragen Mohon

    ''Ghost detection activated, please wait....''


    His breathing was heavy, audible over the digital voice that guided him. With each breath he could feel his body pushing into the mattress of his bed. This was the first time that he would have been fully immersed, he was nervous.


    ''Ghost detected, connection to hardware established.'' An interface appeared on the closed visor over his eyes. The operating system was active. The desktop was a mess of icons and buttons that could be controlled by his vision or his voice. He scanned over the interface and eyed the sword-through-shield icon. The computer anticipated him. ''Would you like to log into The Law of War Online?''


    ''Not yet'' He responded. He scanned over another icon, a black skull held in a grey hand.


    ''Would you like to activate Biometric Crack?''


    ''Yes.''


    ''Some software may clash, I suggest closing down non-essential processes and software before continuing.''


    ''Close down all non-essential processes and software.'' He parroted. ''Then enable Biometric Crack.''


    ''Closing.'' The computer responded immediately.


    The desktop turned black, white text scrolled down, a jumble of code. Then the black collapsed from sight, working as a process in the background. The eyes of the skull were aglow with red, signifying that the software was active. ''Biometric Crack enabled.'' This would spoof his eyes with the already existing biometrics he wished to use. It was required, as his biometrics were linked to an identity four years shy of the eighteen year age restrictions of the game.


    ''Log in to The Law of War Online.''


    The operating system did as commanded. ''Logging in to The Law of War Online. Enjoy your gaming session.''


    The warm room, blue walls, shaded windows, all began to vanish from existence. Everything fell to darkness. The soft bed at the young boy''s back no longer pressed against him, it was gone too. His head felt a quick and cold chill, then the voice of his operating system faded as it prompted for the last time.


    ''Ghost connected...''


    His mind, his Ghost, all that makes a person who they are, left his body and entered a virtual world.


    Black was about him. No ground, no sky, no walls or wind or smells. He was amongst nothing, and nothing was him. He tried to look around, but how do you look without eyes, or a neck to crane your head? He couldn''t see his hands or feel his feet, he couldn''t even hear his own breath.


    Just as he was about to panic himself into madness, a voice chimed in his mind. ''Biometric sequence accepted. Welcome back Miss. Molyneux, would you like to create a new character?''


    My sister should already have a character to play as... He thought to himself.


    ''Would you like to create a new character?'' The digital voice asked again.


    ''Yes.''


    ''Before character creation, would you like to take our sense survey? This allows us to increase the quality and accuracy of The Law of War Online''s immersion.''


    ''Sure.''


    Immediately a flower appeared within the black. It was a yellow rose with green stem, leaves and thorns. ''Before you is a flower, pretty is it not?'' The voice was different, no longer a digital creation. It was the voice of a fluent English gentleman. ''Please, I would like you to describe how this flower should feel to you, from memory.''


    ''From memory?'' The boy responded.


    ''Yes. No doubt you have held a rose in your life, felt its petals or pricked your finger on its thorn. They are very common.'' The voice chuckled. ''Please, describe to me how it should feel.


    ''Okay... Smooth.''


    ''Smooth?''


    ''The petals are smooth. And soft.''


    ''Okay.'' The male voice responded, recording his answer to memory.


    ''But a little waxy too, to the touch. The leaves are light, soft too. The stem''s stiff, but with a little bit of flexibility. The thorns are hard and sharp. It smells... Flowery? Like perfume maybe.''


    ''Very good, thank you.'' The voice responded, then the flower vanished. A sword appeared next, steel blade and steel guard with a leather bound hilt. ''Before you is a sword. I would now like you to describe this from memory.''


    ''The metal''s hard, smooth and cold. The leather''s not rough, but not smooth. It''s got a friction to it, like wax or rubber. Like leather! I don''t know how to describe it. But I know how it feels-''


    ''This is fine.'' The voice cut in. ''We ask you to describe the items to activate your sense memory, for recording to the system database. This is compared with other player memories, as well as our own Sense Engine, in order to create an accurate and life like virtual reality.'' The sword vanished, next came a varnished wooden chess piece, a knight. ''Before you is a chess piece, please describe how this should feel to you from memory.''


    ''Hard? Smooth wood... The varnish has a smooth feel to it too.. That''s all I can think of...''


    ''Very good, thank you.'' A glass pane appeared next. ''Before you is a pane of glass, I would now like you to describe this item from memory.''


    ''Cold, hard, not very flexible. Smooth too.''


    ''Very good.'' The item vanished, the process was over. ''Thank you very much for completing the first part of our survey. The second part will take place after character creation.''


    ''Okay.'' He replied.


    ''Our database already has your personal body type on file, would you like to use this for your new character, Miss Molyneux?''


    ''No!'' He blurted out.


    ''Would you prefer to create a custom character?''


    ''Yes.''


    ''Would you prefer to choose a male or female character?''


    ''Male.''


    ''Please describe your preferred height and build.''


    I''ll go with what I know. ''Five foot tall, slim.''


    ''Very good. What skin tone would you prefer?''


    ''Is there a way to speed up this process? Can''t we scan my features like other games?''


    ''Usually we would do this, however, a scanned female user creating a male character could cause problematic results.''


    ''Scan anyway, and change my account gender to male if you can.''


    The voice responded immediately. It seemed like an intelligent man, but was surely an artificial intelligence that would do whatever the user requested, within parameters. ''Commencing scan...'' The boy waited. The sensors installed around his bedroom would be actively attuning to his heat signature on the bed, then making a 3D scan of his body. ''Scan completed, uploading results to character model. Would you like to save this scan for future use?''


    ''No.''


    ''Very well.'' A pause. ''Your account settings have also been changed, Mr. Molyneux. A charge has been made to the registered credit account for this, thank you. Now Commencing.''


    Within the black appeared a full length mirror, with a wooden frame painted gold. There was no image apparent on the polished glass, not until a formation of white glitter appeared. It swirled and swayed until gathering into the short young form of a teen boy in nothing but brown woollen trousers. Brown-blonde shaggy haired, pale skinned and smooth faced. He was handsome for his age, though with a set of slightly crooked teeth and a noticeable scatter of red brown freckles across his nose. His eyes were a dark deep brown.''


    ''Is this model accurate to your needs?'' The English voice asked.


    The boy looked into the mirror and inspected his image. He realised that he was no longer some floating consciousness, his body now existed. He could look at his hands and feet, and even touch and feel his body and face and hair. It all felt so real. ''How do I feel this real?''


    ''The survey is taken by many other players. They answer different questions and respond to different objects. We use the various recordings of others to build our world for everyone as a whole.''


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    ''Okay.'' He nodded and smiled.


    ''Are you pleased with your character, or would you like to make any edits?''


    ''Yes.'' He looked at his own reflection, at his hair and his face. ''Can I change my eye colour?''


    ''Yes. What eye colour would you like?''


    ''A lighter brown, please.'' His eye colour brightened.


    ''Is this acceptable?''


    ''Yeah it is!'' He smiled. ''And my freckles, can they be removed?'' He had always hated his freckles.


    The freckles disappeared. ''Is this acceptable?''


    ''Yeah, it''s great, thanks!'' If only I could do this in reality... ''I think we can carry on.''


    ''Very good. Before we continue, what would you like to name your character?''


    ''Name..?'' He wondered.


    ''Your name is never visible to other players. Just like in your reality, it is up to you to introduce yourself to others. But for the server to recognise your character, we require a name to attach to your biometric signature.''


    The youngster thought for a moment. ''There was a previous character attached to this account, which is gone now. Do you know what it was called?''


    ''The character was named Broadway Mohon, according to our records.''


    ''In that case...'' He thought again. Mohon... Rai Mohon, Raiden Mohon, Ramen Mohon... Ragen Mohon. I like that. ''Ragen Mohon.''


    ''Would you please spell the name out aloud for me.''


    ''R. A. G. E. N. and M.O.H.O.N?''


    ''Are you sure that you wish to use this name?''


    ''Yes.''


    ''Very good, we will now continue to the second survey.''


    Wind took Ragen from all sides, he felt as if he was being lifted and twisted and turned around. It was dizzying. The next thing he knew, a bright object was coming towards him from a distance. It came at him so fast that he couldn''t discern what it was until it appeared as if it would slam into him. He braced himself and shut his eyes, flinching. When he opened them, he was standing inside a room, no longer the windy void. The walls were yellow paint on brick and stone. Windows were framed with white wood, letting summer sun shine through. The floor was wooden board with sheep skin rugs here and there. Book shelves lined one side of the room and a large blue door sat in the centre of the other. In the middle was a circular oak table, with a rose in a glass vase, a sword and a chess set sitting on top of it. Heavy wooden beams held up the ceiling.


    ''Welcome to this first introduction of Memory Immersion.'' The English voice spoke... From behind Ragen.


    The boy turned around. Behind him had been standing a tall man with slicked back black hair, a thin moustache and a pair of thin rimmed spectacles. He wore a suit of knight''s armour and his hands lay rested on the hilt of a long sword on his belt. Ragen was surprised, stumbling backwards to the table, his backside slamming against it. ''Who''re you?''


    ''My good Sir, I am simply called Reginald!'' He smiled and bowed, one hand gracefully gesturing to his side. ''I am your guide.''


    ''Okay-''


    ''Now!'' Reginald skipped forward, past Ragen and beyond the table to a window. He opened it and allowed a breeze to blow through the room. The flower shifted and turned in the vase when the air hit it. ''Please feel free to touch anything in this room, and tell me if it feels and smells correct to you.''


    Ragen nodded nervously, still unsure of how he felt about this man. He looked over the table and felt the flower, the petals, the stem and the thorns. It was close to how he described, different maybe, but accurate.


    He picked up the sword and felt the weight. Sliding his fingers over the broad side of the blade, Ragen felt the smoothness and the coolness of the metal. He moved some chess pieces, picked up a book from the book shelf and flicked through the rough paper pages. He jumped up and down on the floor boards, tried to slap the wooden beams above his head, though he was too short to reach. He poked his head out of the window and watched white clouds blow over distant green hills. He breathed the summer air and shouted with glee.


    This world was completely real. It isn''t. But it is!


    ''Are you pleased, are there any problems?'' Reginald asked.


    ''None at all. This is amazing!'' Ragen smiled at the tall knightly man.


    ''You have the players that came before you to thank for this experience, my good Sir. Each one has taken a survey that increases the detail of this world. And now you are one of them, and I thank you.''


    ''Cool.''


    ''Now, please. If you are pleased with this experience and wish to make no changes, let it be known!''


    ''I''ll make no changes at all, this is fantastic.''


    ''Very good. Now, all new characters must take part in training. What level of training would you prefer: Beginner, Intermediate or Hard?'' Reginald raised an eyebrow.


    ''What are the difference between them?''


    ''Beginner is the longest of the training methods, meant to teach players with little to no gaming experience. It will teach you in depth about your possible roles in the world, including combat knowledge, navigation and survival skills, tactics, item information and usage, as well as how to use your Heads Up Display and Character Profile interfaces.


    ''Intermediate will teach you basic combat and survival skills and supply you with basic knowledge of the world. This is meant for experienced players to brush up on the fundamentals and dive into the world in good time.


    ''Hard is a crash course in combat and survival and is aimed to prepare very experienced gamers, some might say hardcore gamers, to dive into the world as quickly as possible and learn as if a new born child, fresh to the world with only their wits to guide them.'' Reginald clasped his hands together. ''What would you prefer?''


    ''Well!'' The boy was quick to answer, knowing exactly the answer. ''I''m as hardcore as they come. I usually play shooters, but I''m sure I can handle a fantasy game like this. Hard training is it.''


    ''Very good, Ragen Mohon. Please step through the door and start your warrior''s training. This is the last you will ever see of me for a time. I thank you for your help and wish you all of the luck in the world on your future adventures and battles. Please say hello to Archibald on my behalf, I do seldom see that gentle soul these days.''


    ''I will.'' Ragen nodded. ''Thank you.''


    Reginald bowed with grace. Ragen found himself awkwardly bowing in return before taking the handle of the door and pulling it open. The air rushed in and he took several steps out. The room he had been in, with the kindly knight and the yellow rose, rushed away behind him and left Ragen standing in open grass land. The clouds moved up above, casting shadows over the ground.


    Ragen spun around to get his bearings, but all he saw was green and blue and white. The sun was directly above him, oddly, so he did not know where was North or South, East or West. Wherever he looked he saw the same. Green and blue and white. Grass and sky and cloud. It was disorientating.


    The youngster''s head began to spin, but before he could panic, a hand gripped him from behind, yanking his shoulder.


    ''Son, you need to get a grip if you''re going to join the war.''


    Ragen came face to face with the shortest man he had ever met. Muscular, broad shouldered, but short. A few inches shorter than himself. He had an angry face, clean shaven but lined with heavy wrinkles. Like Reginald, he wore plate armour over his entire body. ''Who''re you?'' Ragen stuttered.


    ''I can see that you''re going to be a wimp during this next part.'' The man accused.


    Ragen did not know whether to be angry or afraid. The insult was wrongly timed after the unusual introduction to the game, so he settled on anger. ''You can''t say that to me!''


    Big mistake.


    The man pushed Ragen and he fell to the ground stiff and feeble. ''And you fall like a girl.'' He stepped over Ragen, obscuring the sun. ''If you want to fight in any wars, you''re going to have to learn to fall. You''ll be doing it often enough, no doubt.'' He held out his hand. ''Take my hand, wimp.''


    Ragen hesitated. ''I''m not a wimp.'' He grasped the man''s hand. The man grabbed his.


    ''You are what I say you are.'' Part way through pulling Ragen to his feet, he let go and let the boy fall back down to his backside. ''Wimp.''


    Ragen hit hard. He wasn''t hurt, but the bullying was making him feel emotional.


    ''When you fall, stay relaxed and allow your body to collapse in on itself. You''ll fall wherever, but you''ll fall with less of a bang. Protect your head and you''ll lessen your chance of dying.'' He held out his hand again. ''Take my hand.''


    Ragen shook his head and attempted to get up on his own, pushing himself up with his hands on the ground.


    ''Nope!'' The man said as he kicked one of Ragen''s hands from under him. He landed on his elbow. ''Relax! Relax when you fall!''


    ''Go away!'' Ragen shouted, trembling with both anger and a creeping fear.


    ''I give the orders here!'' The man held out his hand. ''Take. My. Hand.''


    Ragen grabbed the other''s hand and allowed the man to pull him to his feet. ''Alright!''


    ''Some time soon, wimp, you''ll be falling from horseback, from windows and bridges and castle walls. You''ll be tripping and falling, being stabbed and falling, being thrown and falling. You''ll be tossed overboard from ships and falling. You''re going to want to learn to fall safely if you want to keep fighting.'' The man grabbed Ragen by the shoulders and pulled him close, eye to eye. Ragen felt the warmth of his breath. ''So what are you going to do?''


    Ragen was getting tense, nervous. ''Relax.''


    ''And?''


    ''And?''


    The man shouted. ''And protect your head! Say it!''


    ''Protect my head!'' Ragen shouted in return. ''Relax and protect my bloody head!''


    ''Good!'' The man shoved Ragen back, taking him off his feet. The boy fell hard and stiff. ''But you have to do it, not just say it.''


    Ragen felt sick again. I really should have chose Intermediate... This was not fun. The man stormed over, looking like he was going to trample him. Ragen panicked and crawled away.


    ''Get up!'' The man ordered. ''Get up!''


    Ragen agreed that it would be better to stand. And run. He scrambled to his feet and made to sprint, but the man was on him again.


    ''This time, relax!''


    Oh my. Ragen was pushed again, only this time he took the advice. He relaxed his body and let his legs go limp. His hips fell to his feet and Ragen collapsed into himself. His body flopped to the floor with a ¡°plap¡±, but the force was not as much as before. His hands came up to protect his head from hitting the ground, despite how soft the grass and soil were.


    ''About time!'' The man was smiling. ''Give me your hand!''


    Ragen was still on the ground, arms wrapping his head. He peeked out of the gaps and saw the man''s hand. He took it wearily. The man pulled Ragen to his feet. ''Thanks...''


    ''Remember that feeling.''


    Ragen nodded. ''Okay.''


    ''You''ve learned under an intense situation. I know it was hard, but it was necessary.'' The man looked deep in to Ragen''s eyes, he then stepped aside and revealed the world to be something different now.


    Ragen was in a yard surrounded by high, grey castle walls. Other new players were training with swords and spears and bows. Sparring and practising against wooden and straw dummies, propped up on poles. Wood and metal sounded off against one another.


    ''Remember that feeling, it will save your limbs and your life. When you are in the heat of battle, when people are killing and being killed around you, you must stay relaxed. When you swing your sword, you must be relaxed. When you dodge an enemy, you must be relaxed. When you fall, you must be relaxed.''


    Ragen nodded, and smiled. He was pleased to finally see other players.


    ''Don''t get any ideas.'' The man knowingly said. ''These others are on an easier path than you, and won''t be interacting with you at all. What is your name?''


    ''Rich... Ugh, Ragen. Ragen Mohon.''


    ''Ragen Mohon. Your training starts here. It will be hard, and like everyone that passes under my tutelage, you will probably not remember it all. That is fine, as only war will teach you best the skills you need to survive and defeat your foes.'' He bowed. ''I am Archibald, and I will teach you the laws of war as best I can.''

 Chapter 2: Fayyim Tallhart

    Footmen charge and distract. Horses flank, breaking their formations. Once their forward formations are broken, charge the rear guard and tackle their magic users. If our scouts are correct, we''ll get the better of Amaratsu quickly and wrap this up in a couple of hours. Prince Philip is strong, but our heavy cavalry will utterly destroy him.


    The horse hoof sound broke Fayyim out of her thoughts. The beast whinnied and shook its mane. Ahead of her was hot and harsh desert, cracked yellow ground and shimmering hot air. Beyond it were the silhouettes of approaching people. The sun was at its highest point, Fayyim felt at her lowest.


    ''This heat is killing me.'' Sweaty garments clung to her skin under heavy chain mail, her white hair was also on her chin like a strap. Fayyim pulled it off and fixed it in a ponytail using red lace.


    ''We''d walk through fire for our Supreme Leader and our country, isn''t that right Commander Tallhart?'' Hawthorn rode a black war horse, his steel armour and helmet were polished clean. His white and red striped cloak was dead on his back, there was not even a breeze to cool them. ''You shouldn''t complain.'' He had been a member of Fayyim''s army since the start, and became both a fast friend and a ranked officer almost immediately.


    ''You really do seem to enjoy seeing me suffer.'' Fayyim replied. ''How are the troops, Captain?'' She looked ahead with intense focus.


    Hawthorn laughed through the metal of his helmet, lending a tin sound to his voice. ''As well as can be expected.'' He looked back at the rank and file numbers of men and women, Soldiers on foot and Knights on horseback. They all wore the same colours as Hawthorn, white and red. The same colours that Fayyim wore. They were the colours of the company she commanded, The Red Front.


    An entire one hundred and fifty players of her army were present, along with them were other Hurdland armies, all leading the push into their enemy''s territory. This battle would be the turning point in a world war that has been at a stalemate for far too long. Thousands from both sides would clash in this desert where their territories were divided., Hurdland from the west versus Amaratsu from the east. Today was the day to impress her peers, to build a reputation. ''I expect the best, Captain.''


    Hawthorn lifted his visor and breathed deep. On his exhale, sweat sprayed off his lips. ''We are the best, Commander. The best and the hottest.''


    Fayyim caught herself taking a glimpse of her Captain''s face. He was a youthful looking man, handsome but boyish. It was a good quality to have in a second in command, as she spent most of her time looking at his face more than any other in her force. ''Call for Shanks and Lupin, it''s close to time.''


    ''Aye.'' Hawthorn turned his horse and trotted off. His voice was loud in shouts, but then seemingly died to the heat.


    Moments later a white horse came to her side. Sitting atop the animal was a shaggy haired man wearing leather armour and a steel breast plate. It was the ever loyal Shanks. A longsword was secured to his belt and a quiver and bow over his shoulder. He spoke no words until spoken to.


    ''Where''s Lupin?'' Fayyim clenched a fist around the leather reins of her horse.


    ''Hawthorn is bringing him.''


    ''Good.'' Fayyim coughed, her throat dry.


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    ''Commander.'' The man called for Fayyim''s attention. When she looked, he tossed a water skin to her.


    She happily caught it and popped the lid. ''Thank you, Shanks.'' She gulped heavily and then threw the container back to its owner. ''Hawthorn has mine.''


    ''No problem Commander.'' He bowed shallowly.


    Fayyim turned to face the oncoming force, blurred in the distance. ''Bronze John will be attacking the enemy''s left flank, but his cavalry haven''t arrived in suitable numbers.''


    ''OK.''


    ''He wants to do his part all the same, his stubbornness wouldn''t allow for any help.''


    ''He''s a capable Commander.'' Shanks offered his opinion.


    ''He breaks before he bends. That quality has its uses, but not here. He''ll lose us the left flank, but I can''t do anything to support him without suffering his ego afterwards. What are your thoughts?'' Shanks took a breath and then went silent, Fayyim noticed his hesitation. ''Well?''


    ''I have nothing, Commander.''


    You disappoint me, Shanks. ''I want you to take all of the light Cavalry and break the left most column of the enemy vanguard.''


    ''Commander, my horses are needed to lead the charge for our Soldiers-''


    ''Silence.'' She commanded. Shanks bowed to her and was silent. ''John is expecting us to take the other flank and attack the front. If you attack where I say, it is still technically the front, despite its proximity to John. The scouts that the Long Strides sent to us have said that Prince Philip''s strongest Spearmen are within the left flank. John''s horses will be taken down and we will lose. I need you to weaken the left column and then join up with Bronze John. He can''t complain about that since it will all happen in the flow of battle. Don''t worry, we have enough men to break their vanguard without you leading the charge. Your horses were just a bonus.''


    ''Yes Commander.''


    Fayyim waved Shanks away, just as Lupin arrived. ''Go, prepare your cavalrymen.''


    ''Aye Commander!'' Shanks turned and galloped to somewhere behind Fayyim.


    ''Lupin.'' Fayyim called.


    A bald man stepped to her horse''s side, a buckler and spear in his hands. ''Commander.'' He bowed.


    ''There''s been a change of plan. Shanks'' horses will not be leading the charge. You''re on your own, can you handle that?''


    ''I can do that.'' He was confident. ''I''ll take some archers to support our approach and then lead the charge with spears, then swords.''


    ''Very good. Go get ready.'' Fayyim waved him off. ''Captain.''


    Hawthorn came to her side, never too distant. ''Yes?''


    ''See to it that the reformation goes smoothly.''


    ''Aye.''


    ''I''ll take position in the rear of Lupin''s force. Once you''re done, get your heavy cavalry ready to manoeuvre against the enemy''s right flank. I expect to win this, Hawthorn, my Red Front always wins.''


    ''Indeed. My Knights are anxious to begin.'' Hawthorn bowed and trotted away.


    Good... Fayyim thought. She could make out details of the Amaratsu army ahead of her now, they were many. Because now it does begin.

 Chapter 3: Ragen Mohon

    Ragen had found his training finished in underwhelming fashion. After an hour of learning safety techniques for falling, rolling and fighting, which amounted to him being beaten with a stick for twenty minutes, he was guided to step through a door into the ¡°real¡± world. He fell through darkness and then a blinding light grew below him. All of a sudden he was standing in a dingy backstreet, broken crates and soiled food and scurrying rats around him.


    He crept out and onto a main street, wood and stone buildings casting dark shadows over him. Ragen had no idea where he should go, or what he should do. Other games had accessible guides and quest lists, The Law of War did not. He was on his own.


    Down the main street to his right were market stalls with a healthy number of customers, other players. On his left were a large number of buildings with swinging wooden signs and happy players coming and going, singing and laughing and shouting. It was obvious that this was the tavern district. Ragen felt far too young to be visiting here... Then again, this was only a game, no one could stop him.


    He made off to the left, hoping to see what-was-what with other players. See what they spoke about, see what they were all about. Maybe make a quick friend to help him start the game proper. He managed ten foot of walking before a thick wooden door opened on his left. Two muscular men, one wearing blue and another topless, marched out with a crowd behind them. They were all shouting.


    ''Get ''em, kick his head in!'' One man laughed.


    ''You can do it Simon, and then drinks are on me!'' Another shouted.


    ''Drinks are on him after he hands over my winnings!'' The topless man claimed of the other.


    Other men from other taverns had heard the commotion. They began to appear on the street, surrounding the two who meant to fight, creating a makeshift boxing ring. The opponents faced off, hands raised in a guard, heads held low behind their fists. ''Have at it!'' A voice called out, and then the fists came flying.


    Ragen was caught in the crowd, crushed between two men who stood tall above him. They seemed to hardly notice his presence. He tried pushing against them, to loosen the space around him, but his effort was no good, he was forced to wait and watch until the match ended.


    The man in blue wildly swung at the other who ducked under and struck with a gnarled fist to the stomach. Blue, as Ragen had dubbed him, hunched over with the hit, his head coming forward to smash Topless in the nose. It was accidental, but worked. Topless covered his face with his hands, Blue held his stomach. Ragen knew from his brief training session that pain did not quite exist here, instead it was a dull pressure that was enough to let a player know that they were injured. As well as that, a red glowing mark would appear on the damaged area of the body.


    There was a lot more going on that Ragen did not understand: simulated cramping, debilitation, actual bodily harm that hindered a person until healed. It was a complex system that simulated real life harm and battle damage, but somehow in tolerable manner to the people playing. Pain was real - yet not real. And despite the ¡°pain¡±, the two men before him were still willing to fight.


    The man in blue recovered first while the topless man''s hands were still covering his nose. Blue''s foot came up and took the other between the legs, whose hands left his face and clutched at his groin. Blue charged forward again, using his head once more to smash his opponent. The other tried to dodge, but the head-butt connected with his collarbone instead of his face. It did the job. The topless man fell to the ground, his muscles twitching in pain, and Blue put in one last kick to his chest. The crowd who had not been so quiet erupted in an even louder cheer.


    Ragen was in shock. Despite his experience in other games, he had never seen violence like that ever in his life. Where was the gamification? This was too real. He turned around to escape the crowd, pushing past them as much as he could. Luckily they had already began to disperse, leaving the clean up job to the friends of each fighter. Ragen ran back to the dark backstreet that he had spawned in, ducked in and crouched against a crate. He was well shaken.


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    It took ten minutes to overcome the images of a man taking a beating before he left the dank alley, entering the main street again. Ragen turned toward the market this time, weary. He looked over the different stalls, but hardly took in what he was seeing. His previous shock was still fresh. When he realised this, he shook himself out of it and reminded himself that it was only a game and he had a goal to achieve. How he was going to do that, he did not know. Maybe others would.


    People had been passing him by, players and Non-Player-Characters alike. There were burly Soldiers with swords on their hips or spears and bows in their hands. He saw lean Scrapper types, boxers and street fighters. There were steel armoured Knights and leather clad warriors whose Job Classes were not obvious to him. There were civilian NPCs, adults mostly. Children of Ragen''s size too, and smaller, running around their legs, laughing and playing.


    Ragen approached one Spear-man who walked within the shadow of a wood and stone building that appeared common for the city, but before his mouth opened the man marched on past. He turned to another, a woman with leather armour over a blue cotton uniform. ''Excuse me!'' She ignored him. ''Excuse me!'' He asked another, who caught his eye but turned away.


    No one would regard him with even a greeting. It was odd, and annoying. Why would people ignore him so readily? He shook his head and walked on down the street, this time deciding to speak to an NPC.


    Ragen approached a stall placed in front of a tall, but narrow, grey stone building, perhaps some sort of warehouse. Placed on a wooden table were piles of clothing, cotton and silk and some materials Ragen did not recognise. A cream coloured canopy flapped in the breeze above, protecting the wares from the elements.


    ''Hullo there, may I help you?'' A round gentleman asked from behind the stall, the storekeeper. A smile across his face.


    ''Hi, I''m... Sorry, I''m not buying, I just need-''


    ''Get lost then!'' The store-keep interrupted, his expression changing. ''I have money to make!''


    Ragen moved on. He found similar reactions from other store owners. He considered interacting with regular civilians, but found himself feeling weary of them too. This world was feeling hostile to him. Maybe logging out would be best for now, he thought. He could not see how the game was any fun. Like any media, film, literature or game, the viewer, reader or player should be hooked from the start, but not here. Ragen was flying blind and had found no hook, no fun interaction to keep his interest. Perhaps I should have tried the Easy training...


    As his introduction to the game had taught him, he looked to the ever present white bar in the top left of his periphery. When his eyes met it, a white screen appeared in front of him. This was similar to other immersion games, a screen only visible to himself. However it held little information compared to other games: health gauge, stamina gauge and magic gauge only. That was all, besides game options, like the Exit World button.


    Ragen''s eyes hovered over the button, ready to accept the end of his gaming session, up until a face beyond the screen took his interest.


    A blond haired man regarded him with curiosity. Ragen looked back, mirroring the other player''s expression. The man moved away from the stone wall he was leaning against and waved a quick goodbye to a bunch of Soldiers he was talking with. They hardly paid him any mind as he strode away.


    Ragen had a lump in his throat and a tight feeling in his gut. Pictures of the brawl he had seen entered his mind as the man approached him from down the street. He had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. So he ran. All thought of logging out of the game left him, his instincts took over instead, reacting to the realistic world and perceived danger.


    Sprinting past players and NPCs, past slum like inns and dingy bars and shops, past weapon smiths and armourers with hot metal clanging, Ragen ended up at a dead end. A thick and high wooden fence in the middle of a dirty alleyway, two stone buildings boxing him in, with no doors to enter, only widows up on high. He had nowhere left to run. Quick and heavy footsteps came from beyond the entry.


    I have to... He thought for a second. Climb the fence? Too high. Fight? No chance. Scream? Too scared... He looked around for some hope, but there was nothing. Then in the corner of his eye he saw the white bar again, and remembered that it was only a game. He should not have panicked or have run away in the first place, he should have just logged out. So that''s what he did.


    Whoever was chasing him would turn in to the alleyway and find only a lonely wooden fence, and the smell of fear lingering in the air. If that was even possible.

 Chapter 4: Dolon Elias

    ''It''s been a long time since I''ve been to Rest, and that visit wasn''t for long.'' Dolon started. ''Where''s a good place to get food around here?''


    The young woman furrowed her brow and fingered the longsword at her side. Her blue tunic and leather trousers were tight to her skin, it looked good. She knew it, Dolon knew it, but he was sincere in his question, a sincerity that was lost to the woman. ''Are you inviting me out?''


    Did it sound like that? Dolon pulled on the strap of his rifle bag, tightening it to his shoulder. The street lamp light played off the water of the fountain in front of them, the golden waves of light worked well in the woman''s favour as it danced over her. He was quick to think. ''Yeah. I''m asking where you most love to eat, and I''m hoping to treat you.'' He smiled cheekily. ''Because hope is all a man might have when looking towards someone as transcendent as you.''


    The blue clad woman hesitated first, then swallowed. ''No thank you.'' She looked away quickly, a stiffness taking her.


    Dolon laughed and walked away backwards. Before he made to turn, he pointed a finger from his hip. ''Hey!'' He called, and the woman looked. ''You blushed.'' He smiled and gave a single nod, then she was in his past.


    The city was quiet at this time of night, which was surprising, as the usual perception of the place was that people were enjoying themselves on the streets and in the parks at all hours. The City of Rest was a tourist''s paradise. It had extensive markets and high end stores for players of all types, the best food in Hurdland, the best medicine outside of Negam Town in the east, and it was open day and night, all twelve hours of the cycle.


    Dolon had journeyed here with four others, members of his very select group. They were scheduled to meet each other the next morning and then quickly move on, but Dolon wanted to get accustomed to the city before then.


    The unique odours of countless types of food were in the air, music drifted to his ears from a distance, and the mood was warm and soothing. Rest was certainly a place for rest and relaxation, an almost bewitching place that gently persuaded the tourists into spending their money on the many alluring items for sale. Or just dropping to the floor to sleep. Dolon thought.


    It was comforting to be here, yet Dolon imagined there to be a dark agenda laying beneath the offerings of the city. This could be a honey trap, made to capture those visitors from other nations into Hurdland''s tight grip.


    Maybe it was. Theres streets of white and yellow and blue stone, lit by orange and gold lamps, warm and inviting, mystical in a way, far removed from the slums of the northern towns and less intense than the sprawling giant cities of the enemy nation Amaratsu, could be a subtle psychological warfare or mind control, made to bring wandering adventurers from Amaratsu or the island nation of Churash onto Hurdland''s side. Fight for us, it could certainly be saying to Dolon. Fight for us and earn your place in our paradise.


    It was the most eerie thing he had experienced, falsely perceived or not, and Dolon was no stranger to the actual intentional creepiness that the game had to offer in its vast world of experiences.


    Exploration passed the time quickly, night became day and the warm orange streets became brighter and purer in the daylight, despite the grey clouds above. It soon rained, but a soft rain, body temperature and hardly noticeable at all. It was pleasant, actually, probably another aspect of the spell that was the City of Rest.


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    The meeting with the others would come soon, but fatigue was setting in. He scanned the area for somewhere to take a break from his constant walking. Stone buildings to his left, commercial stores and food vendors; a small grass area to his right, situated between two blocks of small brick houses. He chose the former, seating himself at an outside bar where food was being served through a large window directly to customers. Right now there were not many patrons there. It was a limited menu painted on a board on the counter. Dolon chose quickly.


    ''Meat and potato stew.'' Dolon asked a man behind the stone bar, who gave him a nod and a smile before turning to make an order with the cook inside the building. ''And add extra salt.'' Dolon placed an elbow on the counter and looked about him, taking in the immediate sights: a woman several seats down from him, a man paying for his bread and stew before leaving, and a Hurdland Soldier in blue and grey gulping down a tankard of thick brown ale that spilt down his chin.


    Not much going on here. He thought to himself. As he waited for his food, he looked to his periphery. On his left was the white menu bar that gave access to in game options, hardly noticeable unless looked for. All players had this. On the bottom right was a pulsating red dot, something only he and possibly a few select others were aware of in their own fields of vision. This was an outside program recording Dolon''s in-game experiences, streaming them over the net. It was a frowned upon practice, something The Law of War security programs would detect and disable, banning accounts using such software. Yet Dolon was given a means to override these security measures, and he was paid quite handsomely to do so. Well enough that he needed no job in the outside world. All he had to do was keep this secret from anyone in-game, record and deliver, and he was set.


    This type of secret was one that would cause a terrible amount of damage. It was the ultimate sin outside of breaking character. Spying was fine, in game, as a serious tool in the wars of the world. Yet meta gaming, gaining knowledge of things on the outside and using them to give you an advantage on the inside, this was not to be done. And if players who partook in this act were penalised harshly, then what of those who enabled the behaviour by supplying meta knowledge, and to a greater extent profited from it, like Dolon? No news of that sort had ever been heard before, so he did not know. And did not want to know.


    Aside from all of this, what about personal reputation and relationships? Despite not knowing other players in the real world, relationships here with other people''s role play characters became very real. Feelings were real, and feelings could be hurt. Dolon''s team were an especially dangerous group to cross in this manner, as they were vicious and chaotic and temperamental. They were the Harlequins of Churash, a group taking their abilities from the Druid Job Progression, men able to transform into anthropomorphic beasts and control aspects of nature. Their missions were highly secretive, their whereabouts best kept hushed. Their reaction to Dolon''s own secrets would be deadly. Maybe even in the outside world. He thought. And why not? People are willing to pay a healthy sum for information to cheat at the game, why not pay to have Dolon dealt with too? Who knows?


    Risk, reward. Dolon thought. It kept food an the table and made his life very interesting, even though it was nerve racking. It was also better than any other job he could hope to have in life, a constant adventure.


    The food was delivered directly under his nose, breaking Dolon out of his inner thoughts. A steaming hot bowl of meat, potatoes, carrots and parsnips in an onion gravy, served with thickly buttered bread, turned a dry mouth into an uncontrollable saliva machine. ''This. Looks. Wonderful!'' He punched the air at the cook and the waiter. ''Thank you.'' A courteous bow was returned.


    Dolon filled himself on the food and cleaned the bowl with the bread, stuffing his mouth with the gravy soaked cob. Copper coins were graciously placed on the bar, his payment, plus an extra coin as a tip.


    After leaving the restaurant, Dolon made his way to the eastern side of the city. This section of the sprawl was dense with houses and shared living spaces. Most buildings here were three stories tall and packed to the windows with people, players and Non-Player-Characters alike. Despite the large number of eyes and ears, most of the dwellers here paid no mind to certain underhanded goings on. The City of Rest was a paradise, sure, but it was a city all the same, and all cities had a dark under-belly. This was no exception. Today however, it would become a little darker... begrudgingly because of Dolon.

 Chapter 5: Fayyim Tallhart

    Intelligence suggested that Prince Philip would march over the desert, known as The Sands, with mostly infantry. It would be his first major battle against Hurdland since recently becoming the highest Commander of Amaratsu''s military, his continuation of the world war which was what the game revolved around.


    Despite the shake-up Philip''s ascension to this position would cause the eastern armies, Hurdland expected the typical Amaratese Spearmen and Swordsmen to show themselves on the battlefield. Use of simple infantry was a hallmark of Amaratsu''s tactics, but with overwhelming numbers. Hurdland on the other hand had access to horses, and a large number of men on foot can easily be overrun by cavalry half their number, which was the plan.


    Intelligence gained by the scouts was sorely wrong, somehow... Prince Philip never showed. Princess Ashara did. This other grand Commander of the forces of Amaratsu was also a new placement in the military, but was widely known as a powerful magic specialist. Her honour guard were magic users, Flame Pitchers, people able to hurl fiery balls of energy across entire battlefields. Her troops were magic users too, though at a lesser power. Her entire battle strategy revolved around the use of the Fire Breather Job Class and its higher level Job Progressions: Fire Dancers and Flame Pitchers.


    As is turned out, horses hate fire. The entire plan that required cavalry was quickly brought to ruin as the Amaratsu troops covered the desert in flame. The battle became a chaotic mess, horses and dead knights mingled with Soldiers on foot. Swords fell on flesh, flames fell on armour, each either cutting or melting and burning. All thought of strategy left the Hurdland side as soon as the hot air of The Sands transformed to fire. As if breathing wasn''t hard enough, now their lungs filled with smoke and their eyes burnt not from the sun, but from the flames.


    Fayyim Tallhart tried her best to control her troops, but even their renowned composure was broken under the pressure of this battle. Not even a battle, it was slaughter.


    For near two hours the Hurdland armies fought. Their horses died first, then their Knights. The Soldier''s held their own once in striking range, yet when the enemy fell, they were replaced with explosions, deadly magic cast from a distance. The day turned to night, but the difference could not be seen. The temperature was the same and all vision was obscured by the brightness of the flames. The sky was no longer blue however, like in the day, instead it was orange, a reflection of the earth below.


    Soldier''s were about her, some in the red and white of the Red Front, others in the typical blue of Hurdland from other armies. All were surrounded by flames, boxed in and trapped. Through the fire ahead of her she could see the flaming fists and feet of Amaratese Fire Dancers, their charge abundantly clear.


    ''Gather up!'' Fayyim called. ''The enemy is ahead of us, there is no going back from where we came, not yet.''


    The Red Front listened well, the men and women took Fayyim''s side, swords and spears at the ready. The other Hurdland regular Soldier''s were not so responsive.


    ''I am Commander Tallhart, and you will obey me, and you will live! Form a wall!'' She barked.


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    Her own troops knew the drill. Those with swords took her side in a straight wall formation, all spears stepped ahead in another, pointing their spikes at the enemy in defence. The approaching enemy neared the eastern side of the ring of fire, yet the Hurdland regulars still faltered.


    ''Red Front!'' Fayyim screamed. ''Let them hear you!'' The Soldier''s of her army roared. ''Let them all hear you!'' Again they roared, their weapons raised in their hands. ''Wait for them to enter the flames. It may not hurt them, but they''ll be as blind as anyone in the light. Listen for me when that happens.'' Her troops roared again in answer. ''Spears, ready!''


    The Spearmen pressed their feet to the ground, their knees bending in anticipation. The sword wielders still cried and screamed and bellowed. Some of the blues finally took positions in the lines, their voices adding to the noise. An explosion rocked the earth somewhere to the north, a pillar of fire rising up above the battlefield.


    ''Focus!'' Fayyim ordered. ''Here they come, get ready.''


    The Fire Dancers entered the flames, red, orange and yellow licking up at their skin. Fayyim gripped tightly at the sword in her hand, she had almost forgotten it was there.


    ''Spears... Charge!'' Fayyim Tallhart commanded and her troops obeyed. The Soldiers headed directly towards the enemy, their screams mingled with the pounding of their feet. ''Swords!'' Fayyim raised her blade. Once they''re focused on our first charge, the second will clean up. ''On my mark...'' One... Two... Two and a half... Three! ''Charge!''


    She did not even wait for her men, she was ahead by a good three steps. Fayyim drew her sword to her side, ready to pierce anyone in her way. Ahead, with glistening tanned skin and flowing silken robes, were the frightened faces of Amaratsu Fire Dancers as they came through the flames into the points of Hurdland spears. Fire sparked from their hands to defend themselves, but the fire of their lives were extinguished.


    Fayyim found a gap in the spear wall, she headed through and lunged with the tip of her rapier. It found a target who fell to the ground, then found another behind it. Before she could attack another enemy, the other Soldiers clashed with the Amaratese and made short work of them. When the last of them died, the ring of fire began to weaken and die.


    ''Form a defensive line!'' Fayyim waved her men together. In the fire light, she could make out the bodies of the recently fallen all around her. There were Knights to her left, their armour scorched and melting, horses too in even worse condition. To her right were the remains of Lupin''s charge, with Lupin nowhere to be seen. Soon enough none of the dead would be present, as their bodies disintegrated and reintegrated back at their last point of safety. Beyond those men were Bronze John''s forces, many retreating, most of them already defeated. All movement was outlined with the golden light of Amaratese fire.


    Fayyim reached out with her power. She drew her abilities from the psychic Reader Job Class Progression, its most elite level in fact, the Accessor. She was one of only a few. This Job Class allowed the user to bind another person''s abilities to their own, like drawing on an ally Archer''s accuracy and skill with a bow, or a Jumper''s ability to leap high into the air. Yet it was a lesser skill that she used now: she scanned the battlefield and felt for the enemy. In her vision, small windows of data showed up above the heads of her opponents. These were graphs and charts for each enemy in range, they denoted health points, experience points, Job Classes and abilities. With this information, Fayyim could devise a plan to tackle them. However, the sheer number of enemies she was reading was above and beyond what Hurdland''s gathered forces could manage. The state of the battle had already proven that. There was only one thing for it.


    ''Retreat!'' Fayyim commanded as loud as she could. ''Retreat to Hurdland!''

 Chapter 6: Ragen Mohon

    ''Contacting VPN...'' The wait was short. ''Checking account details... Account details verified. Account details accepted. Connection to VPN established.''


    Richard scanned over the internet browser to a padlock emblazoned button, when he focused on it, a drop-down panel appeared with a microphone icon on it. He eyed it shortly and spoke. ''A hard day''s knight.'' As the words came, the icon changed from black, to red, to orange and to green. The voice of his computer answered. ''Vocal patterns identified. Password accepted.''


    He reached under the padded straps of the headset and scratched his scalp. It was time to get comfortable. When the drop-down panel changed to a list of Web Protocol addresses, Richard opened one in a new tab and waited for it to load. The VPN made it difficult for Richard to be traced over the net, which was especially helpful as it also allowed him to visit domains on the web that had been blacklisted by his government. Unfortunately, with his connection being run through a series of international addresses before reaching the target domain, data transfer was slow, even on the country''s celebrated National Web Service.


    He waited patiently for the address to load. When it did, a simple bulletin board style site was presented, reminiscent of those of old. There were no images or animations, only a list of threads created by anonymous users. Richard scrolled through until the name of a familiar thread appeared: Secrets of a Popular Game. He entered the thread. The body of the page was short but detailed, written by Richard previously. It read:


    Information sought. New player seeking help playing The Law of War.


    Unable to find details on game play, navigation/ geography and player etiquette. Any help appreciated.


    There were three replies. The first simply stated, ¡°LOL¡±. The second was somewhat more detailed.


    Are you willing to pay? Information regarding The Law of War is never free.


    The first thing Richard had thought was that this was a scam. That was the previous day. But today he was desperate. The laughing out loud reply was from a user like most others, with the handle Anonymous. However, the second reply was from someone calling themselves Broke. The third reply to the thread was also from Broke, repeating their first message.


    Richard had spent most of his waking hours thinking about whether to reply or just give in on his search. If this particular message board, which was famed for its use as an information gathering resource, could only present him with scams, then the search was over before it ever truly began. Something in his gut made him think otherwise. The risk was tempting. He spoke, commanding his computer to reply, his new message was short and to the point.


    How much will it cost?


    He supposed that any reply would come during the night, but oddly that was not the case. Several seconds later, Broke sent another message.


    To continue, please post an email address for us to contact you by. Thank you.


    Well OK... Richard thought to himself, but posting his personal email address was a silly thing to do. Instead he replied with one of a number of dummy email addresses that he had created for other things, and awaited an email message to come. If the message board was anything to go by, he expected it soon, but it did not come quickly at all.


    What did arrive in the inbox for the throwaway email account were a number of spam, scam and nuisance mails. Likely from people trawling the boards for email addresses to abuse, or from bots that automatically collect addresses and send paid-for emails, such as adverts or even viruses.


    It was at least an hour before another message came through on the thread. Richard waited patiently, watching some game play videos of other games while he did. It was a simple message from Broke:


    An email has been sent, Subject: #1765WWH


    And there it was in his inbox, a email titled ¡°#1765WWH¡±, containing a link to an unknown Web Protocol address. Richard felt secure enough to try it, so with a focused stare the link changed from blue to purple and a new tab opened.


    Slowly a simple chat screen opened up with a user list on the right side and the content window on the left. Only two names were on the list, User #1 and User #2. User one typed a message first.


    User #1: 27 ¨C 07 ¨C 2229. Transaction 213.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    User #1: Your request for information regarding The Law of War Online has been processed and is ready for delivery to an email address of your specification.


    User #1: We have calculated the cost of this transaction as being 55.04 Credits to be paid upon receipt of the download link.


    User #1: Before deciding on the transaction, we request that you restate your needs and possibly any other extras that will then be recalculated in the price. You can also ask questions during the chat session, though answers will be short, as the information package provided to you will be more than sufficient.


    User #1: Thank you.


    Richard sat and stared at the text for a moment, contemplating. He spoke, his voice to text software did the rest.


    User #2: I''m not sure that I can trust you, how do I know this isn''t a scam?


    User #1: The Information Broker does not involve itself in scamming activities.


    User #2: That''s reassuring...


    User #1: A table of contents and basic breakdown of the documentation you have requested has been sent to the previous email address provided to us. It is our hope that this content relieves you of your doubts. We will await your response. Thank you.


    With speed he found the email and the file. The email client had done its own anti-virus check, but Richard downloaded the files to a quarantined drive and performed his own scan. It was clear. He opened the file to find a text document, formatted neatly with table of contents and a synopsis of the greater file yet to come. Everything looked above board, with brief but clear descriptions of the listed subjects and answers to Richard''s queries. In this case, the full documentation would contain details of The Law of War''s nations and their individual player cultures and perceived etiquettes, as well as game play mechanics, which seemed to mostly be about character and account management.


    User #2: OK. Everything looks good to me, let''s carry on.


    User #1: Please restate your information request and any additional needs. Thank you.


    User #2: The file you sent looks like it covers what I asked for initially, but it might be missing some things.


    User #1: Please elaborate and we will do our best to adjust the document.


    User #2: Well, you see, the synopsis says I''ll be told about player etiquette, but I''m not sure it''ll cover my problem.


    User #1: Please elaborate and we will do our best to adjust the documents.


    User #2: OK, well, it''s.


    User #2: It''s just that other players seem to not recognise me. Everyone either ignores me or can''t see me or... I did have one person chase me, but I ran.


    User #1: One moment please.


    User #1: We are currently determining the correct information for you. For the sake of accuracy may we ask a number of questions, of which none will undermine your privacy?


    User #2: OK.


    User #1: What in game nationality were you given? What gender is assigned to your avatar? What Job Class have you accepted? What nation are you aligned to? What was your location when your problems occurred.


    User #2: I''m not sure what nationality I am, I''ve only had one game session after training and I was dropped into some city afterwards with no guidance. I''m male, I don''t have a Job Class yet and I don''t think I''m aligned to a nation. I''m a brand new player.


    User #1: One moment please.


    User #1: We have been given permission to speak to you openly. Your problem may well not be solved through purchasing our services, we suggest that your issue should be troubleshot by The Law of War tech support.


    User #1: If other characters can not recognise you for the most part, then this may well be a tech issue and not a game play or etiquette issue.


    User #2: NPCs can still talk to me, and like I said, that one player chased me.


    User #1: One moment please.


    User #1: From what we know, if NPCs can recognise your Ghost, then players should also be able to. Are there any other details you could tell us that may help determine an answer to your problem?


    User #2: Not really no... Wait. Maybe.


    Richard thought for a moment, about his child like appearance in the game, about his biometric hack allowing him to use his sister''s age restricted account. I can''t go into detail, what if they find out what I''ve done? What if I get fined or sued? This is too dangerous!


    The other user was left with one last message in the chat.


    User #2 has disconnected...

 Chapter 7: Dolon Elias

    Dolon knocked on the blue door, its wood sounding thick and dense. It was only a moment before it opened and the glittering eyes of Archer peered out from the shaded lobby inside. It was uneasy facing this man, as Archer was a mystery to all, but his eyes said that he knew all about you.


    ''Is everyone here?'' Dolon asked as he stepped over the threshold. Archer gave a single slow nod and stepped aside for him to pass. Inside was the lobby to an inn with a broken down bar and a number of old rotting chairs strewn about the place. A doorway led down into a basement behind the counter, while a set of stairs next to it led up. Archer pointed up, Dolon gave him a nod and then proceeded up the steps, taking care that the long bag carried over his shoulder did not clash with the wall or the rail.


    On the first floor was a straight, narrow hallway with busted down doors and cracked walls. At the far end was another stairway leading to the next floor. ''Up again.'' Came Archer''s voice from behind. Dolon turned to meet with his black eyes and unlined face. The man was tall, with chiselled features. He wore a long coat of black feathers.


    Dolon made his way down the hallway and up the stairs, Archer keeping pace at his heals. Once on the second floor, Dolon was greeted by the masked man of the Harlequins, Stacey. He wore a full leather body suit, that emphasised his sleek physique. The leather mask hid his face well, but not his yellow blonde hair that streamed from the top of the mask to his shoulders. Dolon had once mistaken him for a woman when they first met, something Stacey took no offence from at all.


    ''Just in time.'' Stacey smiled and motioned towards two more men standing in the dank hallway. One was a large brutish looking thing, with shaggy brown hair, thick black eyebrows and scars covering where his ragged clothes did not.


    The other was shorter, thinner but muscular in his neck and arms. This man was Niall, black haired and light skinned, but his eyes were dark. Not in colour, they were actually a bright blue. They were dark in their shape. They were mean, denoting a terribleness behind them. It made Dolon shudder more than even Archer''s worrying gaze. He wore the colours of the Harlequins, a chequered tunic and trousers of deep dark blue and sunburst yellow, with black leather straps and pouches holding it all together.


    No one else bothered to wear the colours, no one but Dolon, who wore them on cloth pants and a tight woollen coat strapped with ammunition belts and various pouches of small tools. And while everyone else was light skinned, as if they had been hidden from sunlight altogether, his skin was dark, and unlike the others his black hair was cropped and his clean shaven face gave him a friendly and calming appearance. When everyone was together, with their ferociousness and darkness and oddnesses, Dolon was the one who stood out the most. Today these features would give him a deceptive advantage that the others did not have.


    ''Have I kept you waiting long?'' Dolon asked Niall from down the hallway.


    ''Only long enough to get our part of the job done.'' The large brutish man answered instead.


    ''That''s good, Gerome. Now sit boy.'' Dolon quipped as he walked past the man, who growled. ''What''s this guy''s name again?'' He pulled his various apparatus off while Stacey handed him along coat to cover his colours.


    ''Micah. Now get on with the job, Dolon. He''s at the end of the hallway.'' Niall ordered.


    ''As you command, Niall.'' Dolon bowed as he passed. ''I told you before that I would handle this, and I mean to.'' He reached the last door of the hall and pushed it open with a creak, the wood was uneven and scraped the floorboards, causing the man inside to look up from staring at the floor.


    He was chained to a chair, red glowing shapes scattered across his torso, arms and legs, indicators of physical damage. The face and head had been left alone. Niall, you animal. This kind of torture was typical, and perhaps a little bit too much for a game. Why hasn''t this guy just logged out? Dolon knew the answer despite the question. This player''s dedication to role play was beyond obsessive, like it was for most players. Besides, the game knew when someone was a prisoner. If he did choose to log out, when he came back to play this is where he would reappear, tied tightly to a chair. It was a cruel fate, taking away one''s freedom to enjoy the world, so for the sake of sportsmanship, the act of imprisonment was highly frowned upon, seen as one of the most unethical acts in The Law of War''s universal code of honour.


    ''Get me some water.'' Dolon called to the others. No one answered, but he could be sure that Stacey would oblige him.


    The room was lit only by a dirty window opposite the door, the floor boards were cracked and broken in places, the walls mucky with mould.. Apart from the single prisoner occupied chair, there was a wooden table and one other wooden chair placed behind the beaten man, beneath the window.


    Dolon walked around the prisoner to the table and unslung his rifle bag, placing it on the top as he spoke. ''I''m sorry that you''ve been put through this.'' He stood in front of the window, casting a shadow that enveloped the prisoner''s. ''This is far too cruel.''


    No answer. Dolon sat himself on the edge of the table and continued to speak. ''I''m here to do what they haven''t, I''m here to let you go.'' The man''s head twitched, his face turned slightly to Dolon. That''s it, just go with it. ''Unfortunately that can''t happen until you give the men I''m out there the information they need.''


    ''I can''t do that.'' The man replied.


    At least he''s talking. Dolon grabbed hold of the spare chair and walked to the front of the prisoner. He placed it down and sat facing the man. ''You''re a strong man. You''ve suffered this beating and not said a word. I appreciate that strength, I respect it.'' He leant forward. ''But strength fails eventually, so you have to let me help you.''


    The man narrowed his eyes. ''I don''t consider you helping them as helping me.'' He looked down at his own body, his clothing ragged and dirty, the red injury markers glowing on his skin. ''If you associate with people who can do this, I-''


    The door opened and Stacey stepped in, a clay jug in hand. ''Water.'' He said, as he walked to the table and put the item down.


    ''Thank you.'' Said Dolon, as he waved Stacey out of the room.


    Dolon retrieved the jug and held it in front of the man. ''Do you want some?'' The man nodded and Dolon placed the jug to his lips and poured. ''It looks like they''ve had you here a while, you look tired.'' He said as he removed the jug and placed it on the ground between the two chairs, before sitting back down. ''Give yourself some time to recover, we can move on when you''re ready.''


    ''I''ll never be ready to speak.''


    ''Then allow me.'' Dolon gestured to the man with his hand. ''If you''ll listen?''


    ''I can''t say that I''ll be interested.''


    ''That''s fair enough, I understand your predicament, but I''m sure this will be of interest: They know about the knife. One of those fabled, highly coveted magical items. They''re difficult to find, I''m sure you know. The men outside this door also know how difficult it is, they too were looking when you got to it first. But where? An old wood witch near Long Lake had it. You were long gone by the time they arrived, though the wood witch was still alive. Which was odd, because they thought a person would have to kill her to get the knife, with her not being very hospitable and all. There''s no reasoning with her. When they took her down, not an easy thing to do for anyone else I might add, and then they searched her hovel, they found nothing. If the witch was still alive when they arrived, then they could only guess that when you stole it, it was under some great amount of stealth. Very skilful of you.


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    ''Am I right?'' Dolon asked the prisoner, but got no reply. ''Well, they left her and her home and then started their search for the item''s new owner. For you.'' Dolon stood and paced the room. ''The town of Longside was to the south, and tracks from the witch''s place led directly there. A few well placed coins and the correct sort of persuasion had the townsfolk willing to tell the men outside everything they needed to know. They told them that a stranger passed through the town, coming from the east, heading north. He soon came back from the north and passed through to the east again.


    ''They couldn''t find much of a description of the man, only that his hair was blood red, and that he spoke like a local to Hurdland. Most red heads come from Amaratsu, so finding one in Hurdland, somewhere, was as good a lead as any.'' Dolon pointed to the man''s head and the flop of red hair on top. ''Do you know anyone else with hair like that around theses parts? No? Then let''s continue.


    ''The closest stopping point to Longside is The City of Rest, so it was natural that the men would try that city first. Initially there were no leads when looking for a man with red hair, but again, some coin and some... persuasion, led the pursuers to a small business place. This business specialised in finding lost goods. Did a Soldier die and lose a prized sword to his killer? Then they would find the sword and bring it back to the Soldier in his next life! That sort of thing, but also if a person is in need of a special kind of item, something rarer than rare, powerful perhaps, this business would be happy to help. Sounds good, no?''


    Dolon sat back in his seat, leant forward and picked up the jug at the man''s feet. He played with it, swishing water around. ''By the time the leads were linked together, you had left The City of Rest and delivered the item to your client. The men outside had a name, your name. They had a place of business, with a good M.O. They had a direction, you went east again, perhaps to Port Moonlight, perhaps further east. That meant that the search could lead anywhere else in the world, very troubling. So instead of searching more, the men waited. They watched the east and waited for you to return, which you had to due to your home and business and employees and friends being here. And yes, they know much about the whereabouts of said friends and employees.


    ''Anyway.'' Dolon scratched his head while holding the jug with a free hand.. ''Where were we? Oh yeah, the east. So they waited for you to return, picked you up and now we''re here. Sorry, I know the story was a little rushed at the end there, but the sooner I finish, the sooner I can get you out of here.''


    ''I doubt that with how much you talk.'' The prisoner smirked.


    ''Let''s not resort to insults. I''m hired by a sympathetic party to help you get out of this with as little pain as possible.'' Dolon lied.


    ''What damage can they do? The worst is kill me, and I''ll only come back.''


    ''Didn''t you hear anything I said? I am trying to convey to you with my story, Micah, the resourcefulness and tenacity of these people. They found you, found your friends, found your business with all of your assets. They are not safe. You should know from experience that they''re very destructive when they need to be, or want to be. Nothing connected to you is safe. The effort you and your people have made for however long you''ve been in the world will be for nothing. They''ll destroy it all.''


    ''They can''t destroy everything, not all of my assets, not my reputation.''


    ''They can try.'' Dolon rubbed his brow, as if stressed. ''If the trail doesn''t end here, these men will go east, to every city, every outpost, every castle and fort. Eventually they''ll find the knife, and when they do, which they most certainly will, they will let the current owner know that it was you who gave the location up. Your reputation will not last.''


    ''My clients know better, everyone does.''


    ''That remains to be seen, but I admire your confidence.'' Dolon held out the jug. ''Do you want more?''


    The man shook his head. ''No.''


    He placed the jug back down. ''Will you tell me where the knife was delivered?''


    ''No.'' He shook his head again. ''I never will. No threat will work.''


    ''You need to give me something.''


    ''Let me ask you some questions then.'' The man sniffed.


    ''Sure.'' Dolon sat back in his chair.


    ''What kind of racket are you running here? Why would I believe that you''re here to help me?''


    ''Excuse me?'' Dolon sat up straight.


    ''No one knows I''m here! You''ve never once explained who would have sent you, this makes no sense at all!'' He laughed. ''You''re a fool. I know you''re one of them.''


    This is why I''m here, to pull off Niall''s plans, and fix them when they go wrong. Dolon laughed. ''You got me there.'' He leant forward. ''Can I be straight with you, Micah?''


    ''You can try, though I might not believe you.''


    ''Well Micah, I have lied to you, partly. I am here to get you free, because if I don''t get the information we need out of you, then you''ll never leave here''-


    ''Alive?'' The red haired Micah interrupted, then laughed. ''I think we''ve already established that it''ll be useless to kill me, or to destroy my entire world, boo-hoo.''


    ''You should let me finish.'' Dolon stood up and walked to the table, Micah tried to turn and follow him. ''If you don''t give me the information I want, then you''ll never leave here without something to show for it.'' He unclasped a pouch attached to his rifle bag and retrieved a large black metallic revolver from it.


    ''What do you mean?''


    Dolon walked back to his seat. ''It''s like this: The men outside that door would have you tied up and locked away in some dungeon somewhere and force fed to keep you alive. You would never see your friends, or even daylight again. You would never enjoy the world ever again. Not until you gave up the information.''


    ''You can''t do tha-''


    ''You''re right, I can''t.'' Dolon pressed the barrel of the pistol into the socket of Micah''s eye. ''And I can''t force them not to, but I can do something more permanent.''


    ''What''re you-'' The man started.


    ''When you die, whatever way you were killed shows up as a scar in the next life. I''m sure you know this. Now at the least, I figure that if I pull this trigger you end up with a nasty scar that is either a cool war story on your part, or worse.'' He bent the hammer of the pistol back with a click. ''You see, I''ve witnessed many people in the world wearing eye patches. Their faces are scarred underneath and their vision is gone.'' The prisoner''s expression changed. ''That''s right, in the next life you can become blind. Did you not know? So I pull this trigger and you die. You''re no longer a prisoner, you won''t be trapped forever, forced to live a lonely life in the world, but you will be blind in one eye. And then the men outside will find you again, and they will bring you to me.''


    Dolon stood and pushed the weapon harder into the man''s face, then fear finally showed in his expression. I''m sorry to do this Micah, but I have a part to play. ''And when they bring you back, I will take my pistol and place it in your other eye, and I will ask you: ¡°Where is the knife¡±. I may not even wait for an answer, because if I have to see your face again after today, I will not be happy. Then you truly will never see your clients, your friends, or even the light of the world again.''


    Dolon pulled the pistol away and relaxed the hammer, then he picked up the jug of water and placed it to the man''s lips. ''Take a sip, refresh yourself, then know that your reputation does not have to come to harm. No one will know that we''ve taken the item for ourselves, and you''ll still have your money from the job, and your livelihood.'' He smiled the friendliest smile he could. ''Take a sip and think it through, and then like I said, we''ll get you out of here.''


    The man dared not pull away. Instead, he drank.

 Chapter 8: Fayyim Tallhart

    Night turned to day turned to night, and the desert and the chase did not seem to end. What little cavalry was left was led by Hawthorn to regroup at the border of The Sands and Shoulderside in Hurdland. Those on foot, the Red Front, Bronze John''s unmounted Knights and a number of Hurdland regular army grunts, where led by Fayyim with the help of the loaned Long Strides, a group of Jumpers who were used as scouts and messengers. Fayyim did not let them live down their earlier confusion during their initial scouting expedition against the enemy. Overall there were exactly two hundred and two people left alive in retreat after the battle, down from over three thousand.


    However far and however fast Fayyim led her troops in retreat, the enemy was behind them on the horizon, always following, always threatening. She cursed them constantly, her defeat a wound she had never acquired even once before on the battlefield. It was only when sand and stone began to turn to green that Fayyim felt any relief. Grass meant Hurdland, it meant Shoulderside, and it meant safety at Shoulderside Castle, Hurdland''s first point of defence against Amaratese incursions.


    All was still not well at this point, the enemy was on their heals and Fayyim would lead them directly to the gates of the castle at this rate. Something had to be done. ''You, Jumper.'' Fayyim called to a young looking woman of the Long Strides. She was a tall strip of a girl with brown hair in a braid. It reminded Fayyim of an old friend. ''Take two of your comrades and go ahead.''


    ''Commander?'' The woman questioned.


    ''We need to do something about our pursuers. Find me some hope out there in the wilderness, a battlefield that will work to our advantage. When you think you have something, send your people to find our Cavalry at the border, have them rendezvous with us at the location. I want you personally back to me in no time at all with whatever information you have. We will be steadily travelling on this same path, it will not be hard to find us. Clear?''


    ''Clear, Commander Tallhart.'' The woman was quick to gather two other Long Strides, then she was away into the distance. Towering leaps into the air taking them away and away with a speed even horses would struggle to maintain.


    ''Hurdland!'' Fayyim shouted to the men, women and NPC soldiers about her, walking in straight columns. ''We will march for home, but first, we march to glory! Our revenge comes soon!'' The Red Front roared in unison at the sentiment. The other troops managed a groan. Fayyim stopped still.


    ''Halt the march!'' Shank''s voice bellowed out automatically from behind her.


    Fayyim turned around to meet the gaze of every warrior under her care. ''The enemy is on us.'' She spoke loud and clear. ''They will follow us until we are dead. But we can use that to our advantage, because we can lead them into their own deaths.'' She drew her rapier and gestured with it as she spoke. ''I guarantee it! So when I say to you, the great Hurdland army, that we march for glory, what do I expect to hear?''


    What little of The Red Front remained after the battle roared as they had before, yet the other soldiers did not. So Fayyim shouted deep and loud. ''What do I expect to hear?'' This time a weak shout joined that of her men. It was not enough for her. ''Turn around and look. The enemy follows us with no will to relinquish the chase. And while we stand here, not moving, they gain on us.'' Fayyim slashed with her sword. ''And we will not move until you low-lives grow yourselves some backbones! And I will take the head of any who shows me one more ounce of cowardice and weakness! Do not doubt me!


    ''Now we will march to our chosen field of battle, to our advantage, and we will destroy those who dare creep after us into our home country.'' Fayyim barked at them all. ''Eyes on me!'' She pointed to her army. ''We march for glory. So what do you say?''


    The Red Front roared, the others shouted out along side them. Shanks bellowed again. ''Are we Amaratsu dancers? Churashi fisherman? No! We are Hurdland''s warriors! What do Hurdland warriors say?!''


    The statement worked to bring the troops to life. Everyone roared. Fayyim smiled and silently thanked Shanks. ''Then march!'' Fayyim commanded.


    Sand turned to soil and grass, grassland rolled into hill, and the enemy continued to keep pace behind the mass of Hurdland soldiers. The sun arched over the sky and came to only an hour before sundown, morale was low and a number of troops lagged behind, some logged off. Shanks was heard trying to rouse them back into their columns, but to little avail.


    The Jumper returned when trees could be seen on the horizon, her face was flushed and her breath heavy. The long braid in her hair was frizzed and wiry.


    ''News?'' Fayyim barked as the other woman fell in line next to her.


    ''We searched for a battlefield to aid us, but there was nothing conventional.''


    ''Which makes me think that you have found something unconventional.''


    The woman gave a weak smile. ''Hurdland''s forests are dense and difficult to fight in with large numbers, even our retreating force would struggle. But a number of small squads of fighters can quickly navigate the woods and make hit and run attacks against the enemy, whittling their numbers down.''


    Fayyim thought for a moment. ''I agree, but our men are far too taxed to face the challenge. They may only manage one good charge.''


    The Jumper made to speak. ''Commander if-''


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    Fayyim raised her hand to silence her. ''There are twelve of your Long Strides left to us, yes?''


    ''Yes.''


    ''Then we shall be thirteen.'' Fayyim''s lips curled into a grin. I''m not letting them get away with beating me. ''Our troops will continue ahead of us, we will stay behind and hide in the tree line, up on high. When the enemy pass below us, we strike from above and do as much damage as possible. When the enemy is thoroughly distracted, our army turns back on itself and charges these Amaratsu dogs down.''


    Fayyim did not wait for any agreement, her commands were given and followed. When the army entered the forest, Hawthorn and the cavalry were waiting.


    ''Commander.'' Hawthorn bowed from his horse. His armour was dirty, black with soot and powdered with sand. ''I''m glad you''re OK.''


    ''No time to chat, Captain. We are making a counter attack.'' Fayyim brushed her hair back and neatened her ponytail.


    ''Is that wise?'' Hawthorn removed his helm.


    ''Of course it''s wise!'' Snapped Fayyim.


    ''Commander, forgive me.'' Hawthorn trotted his horse closer to her. Lowering his voice he spoke. ''Is everything OK with you?''


    It was odd to see the man''s usual cool smile replaced by concern. ''Everything is fine!'' She felt her face turn hot. Through anger? She was certainly emotional. ''We are going to earn our honour back, Ashara''s victory will not go unpunished.'' Fayyim turned to face the direction of the approaching enemy. ''Are you with me, Captain?''


    ''Always.''


    Fayyim noticed no hesitation from him. ''Good. Listen carefully.'' She explained the plan and sent Hawthorn ahead to lead the troops. Fayyim bid them look for a fiery signal, as she would use the enemy''s power for her own pupose. She then looked to the Long Strides, reached out with her Accessor power and borrowed from their Jumper abilities.


    The power to leap extraordinary heights filled Fayyim''s body, and like fleas up to a dog Fayyim and the twelve Long Strides took to the tree branches of the forest canopy. Her accuracy was not great, finding herself having to clamber to her perch while the others found their footing quite easily.


    The enemy would find it difficult to see them amongst the leaves and the dim light, plus the retreating Hurdland army would attract their gaze away from them too. The last ditch attempt to slow or stop the enemy would begin once the Amaratese passed beneath them, and would surely be an event for her people to speak about.


    Five minutes passed, then ten. The Red Front Commander had no clear view of the enemy, but her brown haired companion did. Fayyim clicked at her for attention and mouthed. ''What can you see? Are they coming?''


    The woman spied out through the leaves and squinted. ''They don''t appear to be moving.'' she whispered. ''One second...'' She leant forward, focusing. ''They''re about one hundred yards away, talking I think. Giving orders?''


    Fayyim whispered. ''I can hear something too.'' There were murmurs on the wind, mingled with rustling leaves.


    ''Something''s happening. They''re restructuring the front line. Maybe they... Oh no...'' She raised her voice and flicked her braid away from her mouth. ''Clear out!''


    The Long Strides leapt into the deeper forest, bounding from tree limb to tree limb. Fayyim was not so fast, but she attempted to follow, clumsily hopping from one perch to another. This was not something she was experienced at, so she dropped to the ground instead. With a weak landing, Fayyim took to running, just as the tree branches above her ignited in flame. She turned to look, catching glimpses of Flame Pitchers hurling balls of golden orange fire into the forest.


    They''re going to burn the forest behind us. Did they suspect our ambush? Fayyim continued to run as the wood around her was engulfed, bright fire quickly spreading due to the magical qualities of the flames. Then came the battle cry. Oh no... No no no! Her trap was sprung. The Hurdland warriors saw the fire, Fayyim''s ¡°signal¡±, and charged an enemy that was not there. They charged into a barrage of burning orbs, and their screams alerted the Amaratese to their presence and their mistake. Fire overtook them, retreat was made impossible by the burning trees and falling debris surrounding them, then the Amaratese men and women that had so tenaciously hunted them came charging with fists and feet of fire. The day was now truly lost.


    White light took Fayyim, and then she was stood amongst the tall stone walls and courtyard of Shoulderside castle. Her armour and weapon were gone, only a simple under gown kept her modest, and her hair hung untied down her back. She had died and respawned at her last safe location, where she had saved a checkpoint.


    The sky was dark, the night was quiet, all but for the sound of the rivers that passed on two sides of the castle, somewhere on the other side of the walls. Other men and women began to materialise around her, white glitter falling from the clouds and assembling into the forms of people. The dark sky became white, as hundreds of players, recently killed, respawned. Guards on the battlements, those stationed to protect the castle, gasped and spoke in hushed tones as wave after wave of Hurdland soldier''s appeared. The courtyard was filled, so players began to appear on the battlements and inside the main tower of the complex too.


    ''That didn''t go well at all.'' Bronze John appeared from somewhere, Fayyim did not see.


    She replied only with: ''I need to resupply. Quickly.''


    ''As do the rest of these men and women.'' He shook his head in disappointment. ''We should head north and inform the High Commanders of our loss.''


    ''The enemy might be coming.'' Fayyim was exhausted.


    John, big and bearded, placed his hand on her shoulder. ''Shoulderside Castle can handle it, that''s what it''s here for. Lets head to Tumblestone together, OK?''


    With a sigh she nodded, then hurriedly made plans to leave.

 Chapter 9: Ragen Mohon

    Richard performed a blanket search across all major Search Engines with keywords pertaining to all he knew about The Law of War, as well as setting up numerous bots, automated programs and website accounts that would locate key words on social media sites and forums. These searches were as in depth as his time between schooling and study would allow, as Richard''s education was quite rigorous. His computer logged all searches and downloaded any pages that contained information relevant to the key words, including all text, images, videos and audio, all while Richard was away from his room.


    These were precautions, saving all available data and content was important, rather than simply recording the addresses for later viewing, because of the secretive nature of the game meta. The developers and publisher of The Law of War would scour the web for user content relating to the game and have it scrubbed using content violation law and cease and desist orders. When information was posted online, it would be a matter of hours or sometimes minutes before it was erased. This ensured the game world remained an unknowable alternative reality, existing only for those who played within it. So Richard ensured that everything was saved and backed up in case he later returned to find the content out of reach.


    He was smart enough to realise that the information he needed would very likely not be available through mainstream means, so it would be the deep web that he could most likely rely on for some information. The deep web was all parts of the net that did not appear on any search engine, they were unregistered servers and sites that could only be reached by knowing the Web Protocol address, or WP for short. Richard had several regular ¡°off-grid¡± websites that he visited often, mostly to find alternate versions of his favourite lessons from school, like history and technology, or for the highly illegal software and hardware emulation communities, but most of all to learn computer programming, application design and web and server security coding. All things his government, school and parents were incredibly controlling of within the curriculum.


    The alternatives were archived websites and encyclopedias from the Internet, before it became The Web, which most users in deep web circles said was named not because of its connected lines, but because The Web, like a spider''s web, trapped prey for consumption. In this case, pests were alternative news sites, unofficial and non government sanctioned information and all hacker related cultures that have propagated on The Web. The rebel and the rogue sites, the white hats and the black hat hackers, all were illegal entities on the web, and massive fines coupled with imprisonment were typical tools used by governing bodies to control these individuals and their pages.


    Through these rogue sites, Richard made connections to other servers and pages where information could be found on many subjects. Gaming being a very large subject to deal with. The Law of War''s secrets would be his for the taking, or so he thought, and unfortunately only when he was finally home from the long school day.


    With a swipe of a keycard, Richard opened the front door and entered his Ormskirk home at 4.30pm. He left the security card on a shelf by the door and usually as of late ignored his parents in the house and went directly to his bedroom, where his computer was waiting.


    He closed the bedroom door and waved his hand over the doorknob where a sensor sensed his gesture and locked the door behind him. There was an audible click and then the lights came on automatically, reading that the levels of light were insufficient for human sight, as Richard''s blinds were constantly closed.


    The room was adorned with neatly framed posters and shelves of books. The posters were old and certainly from before Richard''s time, advertisements for Science Fiction films and First Person Shooter games. The books were both fiction and educational. Encyclopedias and history books, science fiction and historical fiction, with a few choice fantasy series that any avid reader would have in their collection.


    Like any bedroom, there was a bed, and in one corner an extensive work space with both his work computer and gaming rig installed into ventilated units under his desktop. As well as these units, there were glass cabinets encasing various retro computer consoles and hand held devices. It was a shrine to his hobby.


    Sitting on a cradle was Richard''s headset, a lightweight helmet with virtual reality goggles, plus a pair of pressure and gesture sensitive gloves that like the helmet, were synchronised with both computers. Behind those were two large monitors, hardly even a centre meter thick. On each wall and the ceiling was a small black bulb, the size of a golf ball. These were installed sensors used for virtual reality gaming and 3D scanning of environments and users. Typical for the hardcore gamer to own.


    Richard changed out of his school uniform and into casual attire. He slipped his hands into the gloves and then slipped the headset snugly over his shaggy haired head. He fell onto his bed with the wireless devices and pulled the goggled visor over his eyes. Immediately he was greeted with the automated processes he had set up during the previous night and engaged before breakfast that morning.


    The searches across the mainstream search engines and websites had all failed to acquire any results, but that was a vain hope on Richard''s part, and quite understandable. However his bots had been quite busy on other parts of the web, and Richard was eager to view the results. An auto updated activity log was scrolling with lines of file names and their save destinations. There were hundreds of hits and saved files, he was surprised by the amount of information his programs has found for him. He could hardly contain himself and quickly wanted to begin his research within the content he had acquired. This is great! He thought to himself. This is bloody gre-


    There was a knock on his door. ''Richard.'' The voice of his mother called out through the door, muffled by the wood between them. ''Richard, why is your door locked?''


    ''I''m busy doing homework, I wanted some alone time.'' Richard lied, knowing full well that his mother would want to check on him. He whispered into the headset. ''Hide all windows and load file: school work dash year ten history.'' The computer did so. All of his searches and programs vanished from screen and a digital document appeared in their place, a school text book. ''Switch to monitor.'' One of the screens on his desk lit up with the image of the operating system desktop and the newly opened file.


    ''Do I have to unlock this door myself, or will you be doing it?'' Richard''s mother spoke again.


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    ''Mum!'' Richard barked. ''I''ll be there in a-''


    ''Right now, Richard!'' She barked back.


    ''Bloody hell...'' He grumbled as he took off his headset and unlocked the door. ''It''s open.'' Richard went to his desk as the door opened and his mother entered, following him to the workspace.


    She peered at the monitor, scanning over the text on screen. ''Why do you need to lock your door?''


    Richard sighed ''Mum, I just like to read in private.''


    ''You never needed privacy before.'' She retorted.


    ''I need it now.'' He responded just as quick.


    ''What''s wrong with you? You''ve been acting strange.''


    ''You''re acting strange.'' He grunted. ''Normal people like privacy!''


    ''Do not take that tone with me, Richard.'' She brushed black hair to behind her ears, making sure that her son could see her eyes.


    Richard looked at her face and then retreated to his chair, sluggish in defeat. There was some defiance in him, but when he glanced back at her, he did not see the face of his mum, but a strange woman who did not have the love he once thought she had for him. ''Sorry...'' He looked down at the polished wood floor, his mother''s reflection blurred into the grain. Things have changed since-


    ''What''s going on?'' A deep voice came from outside his room.


    Richard looked up to meet his father''s eyes. ''Nothing.''


    ''Richard had his door locked.'' His mother spoke. ''He needed his privacy.''


    Richard''s father took a long look at his wife and raised an eyebrow. ''Leave him alone for now.''


    ''But he-''


    ''Karen! Leave him alone.'' He motioned for her to leave. She left as he stepped in, but waited for her to head into another room before quietly speaking to his son. ''I know boys your age need privacy, your mum won''t understand. But I don''t want any locked doors in this house. We''ll leave you alone unless it''s important, but no locks. Do you understand?''


    You two are allowed to lock your bedroom door. ''Yeah.'' Richard answered, but it was evident he had other things he wanted to say.


    Rather than inquire, his father reinforced his ruling. ''We will not allow you to end up like your sister, it''s for your own good. OK?''


    Can you even say her name? Did you ever remember it? ''OK.''


    ''OK.'' His father nodded. ''Get your homework done, we won''t disturb you.'' He left the room and closed the door behind him.


    ''Thanks...'' Richard sighed and stared into nothing. Is this what you went through? Now they only have me to bully. ''Lauren.'' Saying the name snapped him from his haze. He looked to the monitor and then to the headset, remembering the information that required his attention. ''Let''s get to it.''


    He donned the head gear and lay on the bed. It was some time before the information he desired was found amongst the many searches he had automated. His keyword selection had turned out to be far too broad. The search engine results were many, but all hits having nothing to do with his search, all but the official The Law of War website, which held minimal information, only developer videos and vague in game recordings.


    The deep web searches found only two hits, one of which had already been deleted from the server. Luckily the bot that found the information had recorded it, as was the same for the second search bot.


    The first piece of information was old, contained on a website that Richard was unfamiliar with. It was a similar discussion to which Richard would like to have: what is a new player supposed to do? The answer? ¡°Find new friends and see what they think, or find the nearest Soldier Academy to start training.¡±


    It was short but to the point, and held so little meta game information that perhaps it was deemed non-threatening and left alone. The Broker''s breakdown for the information bundle that Richard would have purchased, mentioned briefly about Academies, but not what they were for. Richard correctly assumed that Soldier''s Academies were where Soldier''s trained.


    The second search was something Richard could potentially use for its content, but not its subject. It was a request for information on a missing player in the country of Hurdland. A player named Judith had gone missing, her most recent whereabouts being on a journey from Kurktown to Eastport, possibly seeking transport to Amaratsu.


    This was all of the data, it had no replies and was soon erased. Richard made note of the two locations, Kurktown and Eastport. He supposed that Eastport was on Hurdland''s east coast, and Kurktown somewhere to it''s west. Simple information, but perhaps useful.


    That was all. The long day''s search of the English speaking web had resulted in pretty much nothing at all. But then again, the Soldier Academies were a start. Richard logged out of his computer and lay still, enjoying the softness of his bed. He was eager to begin his adventure, The Law of War was waiting for him, but so was his homework. School came first, though he desired the other more.

 Chapter 10: Fayyim Tallhart

    ''The cow''s crossed the border. ''Er Pitchers ''ave advanced past Shoulderside Castle and crossed the rivers.'' The young and agitated Knight gave an emergency report from a now besieged castle. ''A boat managed to slip down the river from the castle before the siege was under way. The messengers say that the Princess has left ''er Fire Dancers and some Flame Pitchers behind while she moves north. They''ve got infantry as support.''


    The room was silent and rightfully so, it was a dire situation, but this danger could not be allowed to advance. It was affecting the gathered Commanders'' morale. Fayyim stepped from the edge of the square room, where other lesser Commanders stood. They had encircled a rectangular table where three High Commanders sat. They gazed over a world map, supposedly strategising. Candles were burnt for light.


    She hesitated before she spoke. It was a first for her, as were her two defeats at the hand of Princess Ashara. Some doubt stirred in her, she was unsure whether she was even worthy of speaking now. Then she remembered the words spoken to her before reaching this council.


    ¡°The loss of a battle isn''t the loss of the war.¡± It was Hawthorn that guided her, consoled her. Fayyim was being particularly hard on her troops, due to her frustration over her lost battles and Hawthorn saw it. ¡°You don''t have to overreact, Commander. We all lose and all learn from it, it''s the norm. Take what you can from the defeat and make yourself stronger...¡± His hand had moved towards her, Fayyim thought maybe to touch her face, but it landed on the shoulder of her new chain mail. ¡°Keep composed and carry on, you''ll do fine. You''ll do incredibly.¡± She had looked at his hand, unsure of what to make of the rare physical contact, so just laughed it off in her usual confident tone: ¡°I know that!¡±


    The recent memory of his guidance had helped a great deal, Fayyim''s hesitation ceased. ''Can you elaborate on Princess Ashara''s support? What are the infantry comprised of?'' She addressed the young Knight, going over the heads of those unsure three who sat in the centre. Her investment in the fight against the army of Amaratsu often forced her to undermine her superiors.


    The Knight answered. ''This is all the messengers have said, no one knows anything else.''


    ''Where are the Skimmers? The Long Strides should be here, why aren''t they gathering intelligence?'' She flashed with a stern kind of anger.


    The Knight stuttered. ''No one knows.''


    ''Do we have no Soldier''s ranging in the forests?''


    ''No one knows.''


    ''How has Shoulderside Castle not already overcome Amaratsu''s siege forces? I thought it was a strong castle? Hurdland''s first line of defence?''


    ''No one knows...'' The interrogation unsettled the Knight. Although this was a role-play, there were still consequences in this world.


    Of course no one knows... ''Useless...'' She stepped up to the table from the shade of the walls and into the candlelight. Both hands leant heavy on the map, her hair fell forward from her shoulders and hung low, gold in the flickering light. ''How have we allowed our defences or our intelligence to suffer like this? Amaratsu has been pushing for well over a month, we all saw it coming, that''s why we made our pre-emptive attack.''


    One of the three spoke in return. It was Bronze John. ''Fayyim, this is no time for-''


    ''For complaints?'' She interrupted. ''I''ve never seen such a perfect time for complaining about this. The enemy has stepped over our doorstep and they''re certainly not wiping their shoes!'' Someone snickered from the shadows, she knew who. I know it was a bad joke, but don''t make me laugh now. She continued. ''Where are our defences? Where are our messengers?''


    A gruff voice came from in front of her, beyond the table. ''Thorn has been reassigning troops from the south.''


    ''Where to?''


    ''Slug Island.''


    ''Slug Island?'' Fayyim peered at where the voice came from, she could not see his face. ''Forgive me, I''ve been in the field for some time now. News does not spread so well.'' Another jab at the lack of communications between the armies. ''Why do we need troops on Slug Island? And why from our first line of defence? That place holds no importance to us.'' This was not only an in character concern, Fayyim was personally concerned. She did not enjoy losing in this game, she played to win, it was the only place she ever had.


    The bronze Knight spoke. ''Thorn was given leadership over the island, but the Churashi lay claim to it. He''s currently fighting them at sea and on the island itself.''


    ''Let them have it!'' She shouted, this was no act. ''We don''t need the god damn island!''


    ''Commander Tallhart, for crying out loud! This isn''t helping right now, we don''t have the power to change anything from here!'' John hammered on the table.


    Fayyim shook off her anger. ''You''re right.'' She stepped back.


    ''Bring in the messengers from Shoulderside Castle.'' Another High Commander ordered. A tall Knight in dim grey plate and chain, handsome but old and greying.


    ''Yes, Commander Griff.'' The young Knight bowed and made to leave. He caught Fayyim''s irritated eyes beforehand, then ducked out much more quickly.


    ''While we wait, does anyone have anything to say on the matter? What are our enemy''s plans?'' Old Griff asked.


    ''The City of Rest must be the target.'' One voice suggested.


    ''Agreed.'' Another spoke, a woman. ''Princess Ashara has the Forest Temple and the Climbing School to gain if she takes it.''


    ''She''s got a strange way of attacking a city like Rest, though.'' A deep male voice came from behind Fayyim. It was he who had laughed at her joke, Hawthorn. ''Rest requires a sizeable force to besiege it, but she has split her army. One half attacks a city while the other attacks a castle, why make such a blunder now?''


    ''What are you getting at Captain Hawthorn?'' Griff asked.


    The Captain stepped from the shadows behind Fayyim and approached the table. ''I don''t think she would risk dividing her troops and weakening her ability to lay siege, it makes no sense to split forces like that. Ashara is not incompetent, she wouldn''t attempt such a weak attack. The City of Rest isn''t her target.''


    ''Then what is?'' The bronze Knight asked.


    ''Who knows?'' Hawthorn shrugged with a smile, stepping back into the shade.


    ''Fayyim, do your troops always talk needlessly like this?'' Griff scowled.


    No, but it amuses me. She held some contempt for her superiors, having been underestimated many times by them. ''He may not have any answers to the problem, but I believe he''s right with his judgement.'' Fayyim pointed down on the map, her finger gliding over the paper as she spoke. ''Our armies were pushed from The Sands to Shoulderside by Princess Ashara''s army, she then headed north through Hurdland. We know from prior experience that the number of her army is around five-hundred to seven-hundred strong, even after their own losses at The Sands. The City of Rest can hold two thousand fighters and more at any one time. Her entire army isn''t enough to conquer it. Splitting her forces is certainly no way to take it.''


    ''Then what is her goal?'' Griff had no clue. No one did.


    ''Let''s figure it out.'' Fayyim continued to point on the map. ''The City of Rest is north of Mount Rest. She hasn''t travelled the obvious southern route around the mountain to bypass the city. So she''s not trying to avoid it. Maybe she is trying to attack it, passing by and trying from the north-east?


    ''There is a problem with that plan. By heading north through Shoulderside, she will be intercepted by our forces here at Fort Tumblestone. She must know this. If she manages to slip us by, then she''ll be crushed by the Silver Rams coming south from Kurknein. Additionally, she can''t go too far north without a supply line from Amaratsu. Which she can not have while we are able to disrupt from here. She has no forward base to strike from either. She can''t make one in the forests because the Druids and the monsters will undoubtedly harry her. She can only travel so far, as her choices are limited''


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    ''The only possible target is Fort Tumblestone, on that premise.'' Griff stared at the paper map. ''She would be overcome...''


    ''Maybe.'' Said the bronze Knight.


    ''You have doubts, John?'' Griff kept his eyes on the map, the candlelight reflecting in them.


    ''The Princess has around a hundred Flame Pitchers with her, that''s a large number of powerful players... A larger number of regular infantry we can handle, but such a concentrated number of Flame Pitchers could melt Tumblestone. Could burn everyone.''


    ''Is that so?''


    ''Griff, you held Tumblestone while I was in The Sands. You didn''t see what the Princess was capable of.'' John explained. ''Ask Fayyim, her Red Front were on the front lines.''


    Griff looked at Fayyim expectantly. She nodded. ''They had less numbers, but more power.''


    Griff returned his eyes to the map. ''Too far behind enemy lines for resupply, with limited targets... But the ability to give us such issue at Tumblestone? Not attacking the City of Rest?'' His eyes widened. ''They will attack Rest, it''s obvious now. They''re not committing greater numbers, that would just provoke a strong counter from us. Yet if they take Shoulderside Castle and Fort Tumblestone, they have two respawn points to make a continued attack against the city from the north and the east.''


    ''The city can''t respawn troops once under attack, and they''ll take away our ability to spawn at Fort Tumblestone and Shoulderside Castle. Our ability to reinforce the city will be gone. If they take both castles and the city, it gives them a strong base to invade Hurdland.'' Fayyim agreed. That''s almost brilliant.


    ''Still...'' Griff continued. ''Fire Dancers and infantry in the south can be destroyed by deploying troops along the river by boat from Rest. Even if Ashara succeeds at attacking Tumblestone, we can save Shoulderside and she can be countered by the garrisons at the City of Rest. Her plan is good, but not perfect-''


    ''Sir, the messengers are here.'' The young Knight returned with two Soldiers following, men armoured in leather.


    ''Thank you.'' Griff gestured for the Knight to leave.


    ''Sir!'' The young Knight bowed and marched away.


    ''Now.'' Griff started. ''We have had your report and we find it lacking.'' The two men looked nervous. ''Do not worry!'' Griff gave a soothing smile. ''We are only going to ask you some questions, to see if there is still information to gain from your experience.''


    ''Missing details.'' John added.


    ''Y-yes Sirs.'' One soldier said. The other was silent.


    ''Come to the table, answer our questions and then you can leave.'' Said John.


    They approached. Fayyim stepped away, but stayed in the light. Griff seemed at ease with the messengers, but the air was tense. Hardly a breath could be heard.


    ''It''s been nearly two weeks since our armies were pushed back from The Sands, and although men have been pulled from Shoulderside Castle to Slug Island, those remaining have had enough time to adjust, to maintain regular patrols in the forests of Shoulderside. Tell me, how did Princess Ashara manage to travel through your territory undetected?''


    ''Sir, the patrols were reduced and men were brought back into the castle to man the walls.'' The talkative Soldier answered.


    ''Your patrols are the most affective means of defence, despite the castle''s strength. Who ordered the change?''


    ''It was ordered from the capital, I don''t know who.''


    ''Some politician.'' Fayyim interjected. ''Always meddling.''


    ''Silence.'' Griff gave her a mean look. Fayyim did not look pleased, but held her tongue all the same.


    ''OK. Amaratsu''s force managed to march on your castle and now it''s under siege, that''s just where we are.'' Stated John. ''Let''s move on. What troops did Ashara have with her?''


    ''We know for sure that she had Flame Pitcher''s with her, we saw them from the boat, marching close to the river edge. How we slipped them by without being seen, I don''t know. Just luck I guess... As for the men she left behind, we didn''t see. We were preparing to leave by boat for a supply run to Rest and back. We got news of the attack and orders to escape and call for backup. We heard them shouting about Soldiers, Fire Dancers and more, but we didn''t catch it all before the current took us and pulled us away on the boat. Our lines snapped and we were gone. The river was running high, you see.''


    ''And this is everything you know?'' Asked Griff.


    ''Yes Sir.''


    ''There''s nothing else?'' Asked John.


    ''No Sir.''


    The room went silent. Fayyim pondered, running the events in her head. There seemed nothing else to it, just that they had to break two sieges, then her trusted second spoke out again.


    ''The devil is in the details.'' Hawthorn stepped into the light.


    ''Speak.'' Griff waved him forward.


    ''The water was running high, how high?'' Hawthorn asked the messenger.


    ''Higher and faster than usual. Strong enough to break our tether to the docks.''


    ''Have there been storms enough to swell the water?''


    ''Not that we know of.''


    ''Then what could cause the river to run the way it did? It can''t be a coincidence that on the arrival of Ashara''s forces, the river acts strange.'' Hawthorn turned to Fayyim, his eyes were glistening, knowing. ''What do you think?''


    Hawthorn was smart, but he always made sure to cast that light on to his Commander. She loved him for it. Fayyim faced the messengers. ''Was there anything else that stood out to you? Some other detail?'' The two stood, thinking. The silent one more than the other. Fayyim was impatient. ''Well? Speak up!''


    The talkative man opened his mouth, but it was the silent one that spoke, interrupting his partner. ''Ice! There was ice in the water. Only small amounts...''


    ''Ice?''


    ''We see ice sometimes in the lake and rivers, it comes from Gamorak, the mountain. It sheds snow and ice and it runs in the wa-''


    ''Enough!'' Fayyim cut him off. ''Diamond Dancers, they''ve brought Diamond Dancers!'' The room filled with whispers. Diamond Dancers were the opposite if Flame Pitchers, manipulating water and ice instead of fire. They were the highest level of the Swimmer Job Class.


    ''That''s a big assumption, but I think so too. Look.'' Griff stood from the table, pointing down at the map with a heavy finger. ''If they take Shoulderside Castle and freeze the rivers, they control our ability to take the castle back. The bastards!'' He turned to Fayyim. ''You have the largest cavalry units here, how fast are your horses?''


    ''Fast.'' Answered Fayyim.


    ''Can your Red Front defeat these elementals?'' Griff was hurried in his voice.


    Can they? Fayyim thought back to her death by fire, giving Hawthorn the opportunity to speak out first. ''If Commander Tallhart orders it, we will defeat them.''


    Fayyim bowed from the waist. ''They have split their forces. They will die.''


    ''Then we will hold Tumblestone for as long as we can.''


    I''m not so sure. Fayyim stopped before leaving, turning to face the High Commanders. One of them still sat in silence. ''Send word north, we need aid. The Order of the Silver Ram should answer.'' She then left.


    Outside was noise and talk and activity, as troops wearing the blue of Hurdland hurried to organise themselves for a battle with Princess Ashara.


    Fort Tumblestone was a mess of giant rocks linked with stone walls, a wooden building at its centre. It was built from the aftermath of an ancient rock slide from Mount Rest, but named for the northerly mountains called The Tumbles. It guarded the passages into Hurdland on both the east and west side of Mount Rest.


    Fayyim and Hawthorn headed for the stables that lay close to the fort gates. Huge wooden doors between two towering stones.


    ''Gather our heavy cavalry, I want you to take them on the south-west route around Mount Rest.'' Fayyim ordered Hawthorn. Her silver blonde hair, almost white, blowing in to her focused eyes. ''Have our infantry mount up on whatever horses are available and meet outside the gates, the fort won''t need the beasts. I''ll take them east and break the siege from the north.''


    ''As you wish!'' Hawthorn bowed and gave a sly wink.


    You make me want to laugh, sometimes, but I won''t break character. Her eyes said it all, though her mouth may have betrayed them with a smirk. ''You must be fast. Your road is longer than mine.''


    ''I''ll make it before you, no problem. It''ll take you at least five days to reach Shoulderside Castle without being able to use boats on the river, can you make it in time?''


    Fayyim brushed her hair from her face and then tied it back with a red ribbon. ''Yes.''


    ''How?''


    You''re not the only one with good ideas, that''s why I''m the boss. ''Do you really think the rivers are of no use to us?''


    ''Yeah?'' Hawthorn both agreed and questioned.


    Fayyim gave a meaningful smirk. Come on, you can get it.


    Hawthorn gazed at her momentarily, then understanding came. ''I better ride fast indeed.'' He laughed while leaving her side.


    Fayyim walked calmly after him. She eyed local Soldiers who feared to meet her gaze. Her stern and often times aggressive reputation proceeding her. Those of her own men, Red Front men, were much more confident with her. The fact was, they were more than happy to follow her, despite her strictness in the field. All because she gave them what they wanted, the joy of battle, and for the most part, the joy of winning. This was evident when she gave the signal to move out, as they did without hesitation for what may come. Even after losing twice, they''ll follow me... I won''t let their trust go unrewarded.


    It was with the blow of a horn and the banging of a drum that a single line of red and white exited the gates of Fort Tumblestone.

 Chapter 11: Cadaoir

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    Spiritualists trained. Encircling the symbol were six blue fists, the mark of the fighting Monk. ''You were expected two days ago. Not any more.''


    Soldier was practising her spear thrusts, not distracted by the Monk''s arrival. She was focused and disciplined. Cadaoir strode to her, ignoring whatever else was going on about him.


    Long Arm, hit the ground before his spear did.

 Chapter 12: Dolon Elias

    The castle walls were ablaze, it was blinding - through the scope of his rifle. His finger sat stiff near the trigger, the way his body lay stiff on the ground. He was on a vantage point over the target: a hill that rose up above the scattered forests and plains that covered the land. The hill sat south-west of The Spot, the only lake in the country of Shoulderside.


    Dolon had been waiting for three days on this spot, moving very seldom. He took in every sight, conveying it back to his team who waited beside him, all prone too. ''I''m going to be blind in my right eye when this is over...'' He blinked. ''If it''s ever over.''


    ''It''ll never end!'' Stacey whispered. ''We should have declined this mission, it''s a pain in the a-.''


    ''It won''t be long, you''ll see that it was all worth it.'' Niall, leader of the Harlequins, stated with certainty and glee. ''Just be patient.''


    ''If I''m going to be patient then I''ll need a break.'' Dolon rolled away from the rifle, not giving anyone a choice but to follow his next request. ''One of you will have to take over for ten minutes.''


    ''Damn it Dolon!'' Gerome raised his voice and crawled to the scope, as to not miss the activity in the distance. Dolon Elias laughed through a wide open mouth while closing his eyes to rest.


    ''Dolon, how you can stay here for three days straight, I have no idea. Don''t you have a job to go to?'' Stacey questioned.


    If only you knew, I''d be a dead man. ''Ahem.'' Dolon looked sharply at Stacey. ''This is my job.'' It was a hint to not break character, one that Stacey took with ease.


    ''Quiet down.'' Niall commanded.


    When Dolon heard the serious tone, he nodded apologetically at his Commander. ''I''ve been laying here for days, Boss, nothing''s shown up for us to take advantage of.'' Dolon started to complain. ''The siege isn''t going to end any time soon, have you got a plan yet or are we going to keep waiting?''


    ''We''ll wait.'' Niall crawled closer to Dolon. ''The item isn''t going anywhere.''


    ''All this for a knife...'' Stacey sighed. ''Treasure hunting is Winged Man work, let those guys handle it. We have killing to do.''


    Niall glared at Stacey. ''Shush.''


    He did.


    ''We got this job because the Winged Men, in all of their glory, couldn''t handle something this far behind enemy lines. Even Tanda, who loves them so dearly, knows deep down that her Winged Men aren''t anything special when it comes to battle. Just a bunch of dungeon crawlers...'' Niall was bitter, but he soon cheered up. ''Anyway, we can handle this job the way we handle any other. We have our fun, screw with the siege, kill a few Hurdies and Easties and get the knife. And then kill a few more on the way out.''


    ''I like that.'' Said Gerome from behind the scope. ''But I hate this. Dolon, do your job!''


    ''Nope.'' Dolon waved him off.


    ''Stacey, your turn.'' Said Niall as Gerome moved away from the rifle. Stacey reluctantly agreed.


    It was silent for a long while. Stacey reporting nothing of interest. Everyone lay flat and still and silent, the trees were still, the clouds hardly shifted in the mild wind. The sun lowered in the sky and the sound of squawking signalled the birds coming home to roost. It wasn''t until the last member of their group appeared that anyone moved, though Dolon had returned to his duties at this point.


    From the north, leaping from the tree tops and landing with a flutter of wings came a giant bird. Black and crow like, though standing much like a man in some form. This was a Tengu, a shape shifter. A black feathered man with crow''s feet. He had wings instead of arms, though still capable of grasping like hands; and a black beak.


    ''Niall.'' The Tengu spoke as his form transformed from crow to man. His feathers retracting into his skin and his animal features morphing into those of Archer. ''Riders are coming from the West towards the castle. Heavy cavalry.''


    ''Who is it?'' Niall responded.


    ''I don''t know their colours, red on white. But they''re definitely Hurdland soldiers.''


    ''Hmm...'' The Commander thought on it. ''They''ve come to break the siege.''


    ''It doesn''t look like the Amaratsu forces know what''s coming yet.'' Dolon interjected. ''They''re still just trying to burn down the walls.''


    ''Hurdland will have to attack from the south west of the castle, but that area bottlenecks between two rivers.'' Niall was analysing now, seeing the bigger picture. ''All it takes is for the Diamond Dancers we''ve seen to unfreeze the rivers and the Cavalry will be stuck between them. The Easties can easily surround them. If the rescue looks futile, then Shoulderside Castle won''t open its gates to help.''


    Gerome spoke now. ''Then we help the Hurdies out. Dolon can handle the Diamond Dancers while we flank the Flame Pitchers when Hurdland reinforcements arrive. When the castle sends its men out to fight, which they should, Stacey slips inside and grabs the knife.''


    ''Yeah.'' Stacey added. ''I can slip in through the walls and grab the thing while everyone''s distracted outside and up on the ramparts. No trouble.''


    Niall nodded and smiled. ''Sounds like a plan.'' He stood up from the ground and stretched. ''Gerome, Archer, Stacey, you''re with me. Dolon, you know your role, do it well.''


    ''Yes, Boss.'' Dolon saluted.


    ''How long until Hurdland reaches the castle?'' Niall inquired.


    Archer calculated in his head. ''Maybe an hour, getting the horses through the forest and the brush.''


    ''That gives us more than enough time to set up our ambush. We''ll head out now.''


    Everyone agreed.


    Archer again grew his feathers and wings and bird''s feet. Gerome appeared to crumble into himself. He screeched and then tore at his own skin, ripping it from his body and revealing the form of a man-wolf beneath. Brown and grey and black, with fierce orange eyes and sharp glistening teeth. Stacey and Niall made no change, they only followed behind the faster wolf and crow. Dolon was left alone, his scope aimed over Shoulderside Castle. His rifle loaded and ready to fire.


    When his comrades had disappeared into the vast wood ahead of him, Dolon let out a breath and eased an ever present stress. He was always that way when they were near. He took a brief break from the scope and closed his eyes.


    In the top left of his periphery was the white menu bar, otherwise unseen when out of mind. In the bottom left of his periphery was the red dot, pulsing ever so slowly on and off. Dolon opened his eyes and peered through the scope, observing the castle gates. The clearing around the castle helped him see, but a few minor trees did obscure his view. Dolon was intuitive enough to compensate for this. He built an image of the unseen in his mind and imagined it in his vision. This was a skill acquired through years of practice, both in and out of the game. As many players did, Dolon studied his skills in this world and the other, truly immersing himself and elevating himself above others. The best players did this, though Dolon did not consider himself on level with the best.


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    The fires had died, scorched earth and scorched stone remained. Despite the burnt walls, the castle was still standing. The Amaratsu forces chose to take a break in the absence of success, still unaware of the coming enemy reinforcements.


    The Harlequins would still be finding their positions for ambush. Dolon''s job was to hassle the Diamond Dancers, water and ice manipulators, as well as protect his team-mates on the ground. He would support their escape and then meet at a predetermined rendezvous point. If his position is located and attacked, he would have to escape and meet at the rendezvous early. He was confident that he would not have to.


    The mission would be difficult for his comrades too. They would be performing a heist at Shoulderside Castle, all while two enemy armies compete for control of it. It was times like this when Dolon was thankful to be sitting in the distance.


    Time passed and Dolon waited. The Hurdland forces sat on the castle walls, waiting to defend if a successful assault occurred. It wasn''t for another twenty minutes until Dolon heard the loud rumbling of horse hooves on the ground. The Hurldland forces had arrived. Dolon turned his brass and wood scope to find them.


    He saw red and white banners and tunics passing through the forests to the west. Near a hundred horsemen rode, spears and halberds and maces in hand. This was hardly enough to defeat the entire Amaratsu siege forces, yet it would put a dent in their numbers on the west side of the lake.


    They were advancing faster than he would have liked. Dolon would not have too much time to do the job he needed to do, to kill the Diamond Dancers.


    He swung his rifle around and pointed it towards the castle, scanning over the area. He recognised immediately the Flame Pitchers, the fire magic users, when he saw them. They were the men and women with dark skin and plain cloth clothing, hot red in colour. With them, standing on both sides of the three rivers close to Shoulderside Castle, were other dark skinned figures, wearing near nothing at all, either light trousers or shorts. They had swimmers'' bodies and stuck close to the water, denoting them as Diamond Dancers and Torrents. Dolon''s targets.


    It was hard to read their numbers, the leaves and branches of the forests hiding them. But of those he could see, they were easy targets. He wasted no time. Two of the Amaratese spoke, a Dancer and a Pitcher. One sat at a river''s edge, refreezing a segment of water with his hands, while the other stood behind him.


    Dolon took aim at the Pitcher. Eliminate the witness... With a pull of the trigger and a loud crack, and a few short seconds, the Pitcher fell away from the river edge. Dead. Dolon snapped open his rifle, placed a bullet in the breech and snapped it shut again. He thumbed back the hammer and took aim again, this time at the man manipulating the water, all in a matter of seconds. The Diamond Dancer had still not noticed a thing. Dolon pulled the trigger again and watched as the man''s head and body fell backwards.


    A quick look over the area to be safe. No one saw, though some were looking up to the sky, not sure if they heard what they think they heard. Was that a gunshot, perhaps? Dolon sarcastically thought.


    The Hurdland cavalry was gaining on the castle. Another target presented itself just east of the structure, a Diamond Dancer on the river bank issuing orders to three other Dancers standing on the frozen water. They were shaping the ice with their abilities, melting it down with unseen powers and shaping it with a gesture of their hands. The water rose up on their commands and then froze into a ramp aimed at the castle.


    What the hell? Dolon focused in on them as a Flame Pitcher stepped on to the ice and tested it with her feet. She did not look pleased with whatever it was she was testing, then seemed to suggest something else to her water manipulating comrades. They acted on it, using their magic to roughen up the ice. The Flame Pitcher took a practise run towards the large ramp and seemed happy with the set-up. She needed friction... Are they going to do what I think they''re going to do? ''No way...'' Dolon watched the Pitcher as she took a longer run up to the ramp. ''This could complicate things.''


    His scope followed the Pitcher as she hit the ramp and aimed her hands towards the back of herself. Her fingers sparked and then red hot fire began to pump out from them. This rocketed her up high, high enough to be able to see over the castle walls. The rocketing stopped. She took aim while mid air, built up a ball of fire in her palms and made to propel the orb of magic flame over the walls of the castle. Dolon fingered his trigger and aimed to intercept her before she could act, but then he saw her hesitation. He could not hear it, but he saw the words she mouthed. ¡°Cavalry?¡±


    She knows. She can see. Dolon squeezed the trigger. The bullet flew. The female Flame Pitcher rolled in the air as the projectile hit, then she vanished behind the castle. Dolon scanned back to those who created the ramp. They saw. As the four Diamond Dancers reacted, one searching for whoever shot the Pitcher, one running to their fallen comrade and one making to shout ¡°ambush!¡±, Dolon had already reloaded and took another shot. The man who appeared to be a Commander was first to fall. The second target saw this, but then he fell too. Dolon reloaded and took aim. The third target stood in the river and gestured with his hands toward the ice at his feet. Dolon fired. The Dancer lifted his arms up and the river broke at his feet and water exploded upward. The liquid froze and the bullet hit nothing but a shield of ice in front of the Amaratese mystic.


    Dolon skipped past this target and searched for the fourth. The rest of the Amaratsu forces were running around frantically, shouting orders and forming lines of defence. The Hurdland reinforcements had arrived and were running down the western siege forces. Flame Pitchers were crossing the frozen rivers from the east and south-east to trap them in the bottleneck, yet the Diamond Dancer''s numbers had been severely weakened by Dolon, so as intended the rivers could not be thawed to trap the cavalry. The Flame Pitchers were non-the-wiser, their strategy was severely hindered. As if that was not bad enough, claws and teeth then descended on them from the south.


    Gerome darted from the tree line as the Amaratese warriors entered the clearing around the castle. His speed was so that the enemy could hardly react. Dolon too struggled to keep him in his scope. He dashed one woman to the ground before leaping atop another, his wolfish form terrifying to see. Archer, the Tengu, had come from above with talons gouging and scraping and grabbing. Dolon scanned down, just in time to witness Stacey running in next, daggers in both hands. He cut into one man as another blasted fire over the field. Stacey span around his wounded foe and sprinted towards the fire. Before the flame could take him, he dissolved into grey-purple smoke, flowed through the fire and through the Pitcher until regaining solid form and backstabbing his opponent. Bodies littered the ground beneath the castle walls, the enemy lay dead.


    Dolon saw Stacey return to his Ghostform and pass through the castle walls that the Harlequins had battled under, the purple smoke and shadow form finding its way through tiny gaps and minuscule cracks. His retrieval of the knife was commencing.


    On the west side of the castle, horsemen battled surprised Flame Pitchers. Knights fell with heavy weaponry on to flame wielding men and women. Horses toppled to fire and blade. Death was everywhere, yet the Hurdland forces had the advantage. Unfortunately for them, and the Harlequins, a large formation of Torrents and Flame Pitchers were heading around the south side of the castle from the east. They would be at the western gates in only a moments time. Out of more than forty Amaratese combatants, only six were able to safely cross the river towards the castle. The Harlequins saw, could easily react, but chose to hold their position. When the six made it across the ice, their lives were taken from them in all but a moment.


    From their left, his hands ignited in orange flames, with great speed and a flurry of clawing strikes on each of the six, Niall alone dropped them to the ground. The enemy across the river watched in astonishment. Niall''s hands let go of their fire and what was left were the claws of some large cat, deadly sharp.


    Dolon took advantage of the distraction and aimed at those across from Niall. He pulled his trigger and a man fell. He reloaded. When he found his targets again, they were filling the sky with fireballs and spears of ice. The enemy had charged over the frozen water and another large group was coming behind them. The Harlequins had scrambled for cover behind rocks and mounds.


    Dolon did his best to cover his team, but found it hard to see through the fire and the ice and the smoke and the steam. To the west a horn signalled, the castle gates had opened and the men within had flooded out to backup the Hurdland reinforcements. They were winning, for sure, but the approaching Pitchers, Dancers and Torrents would turn the tide. It would be a massacre.


    Dolon did not know what to do. He could not cover his team-mates, he couldn''t find any targets. He could only wait it out.


    Then it happened. Another horn sounded, this time from further away. Three times it trumpeted, long and loud. Dolon scanned the battleground and beyond, searching for the source. Then he found it, a red and white snake quickly making its way to the castle. It was as if the river waters had been replaced by flesh and metal. From the north, down river, came more Hurdland cavalry, riding on the frozen river itself, like a road, with spears and swords drawn! The Amaratsu warriors were pushed up stream, dashed against the ice or the river banks, ultimately destroyed. The Hurdland army turned from the battered dead and made for the west gate of Shoulderside Castle, riding around the south wall. Dolon zoomed in at the head of the charge, where a silver haired woman rode with her sword held high and her mouth crying for blood.


    The Harlequins managed to hide their presence. When the cavalry passed, leaving mud and churned grass behind them, purple smoke seeped from the wall and then solidified into the form of Stacey with an ornate wooden box in hand.


    Get out of there, quick! Dolon checked his team''s surroundings, ensuring their safe escape. When they ran out of sight, he pulled his eye from the scope and knuckled it out of agitation.


    It was now his time to move.

 Chapter 13: Cadaoir

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 Chapter 14: Ragen Mohon

    How much time have I wasted walking around? Darkness came much faster than he thought it should have. I''ve got to have been online for hours. He looked at the sky and the stars as they came to life, those in the horizon struggling to outshine the light from the city that polluted the sky.''


    The Pits? An argument ensued, Ragen listened and followed at a distance. The goateed man won. Twenty minutes went by, the streets became narrower and then wider, longer and then snaking and then straight again. The group stopped at a wooden signpost that directed them to the academy, and soon they ended their journey at the open gates of a school complex. Tall walls surrounded a large training yard, and a multi storied building was at the rear. This was the Soldier Academy of Holta on Trine, and it was a dismal place.


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    I should have created an adult character...


    Oh no... Ragen took a deep breath. I think training will have to wait.

 Chapter 15: Fayyim Tallhart

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    If only I kept those Long Strides with us. Fayyim marched back to the front of the line. Hawthorn was left to follow her orders.


    No. She told herself. I will not do this to myself again, not in this place. This isn''t home... Here I''m strong. Here I''m the best. I didn''t become an Elite Class by doubting myself. I didn''t get to lead this army by doubting myself. I did it because I''m good here. I''m good, damn it!


    I''m good.

 Chapter 16: Cadaoir

    This will make things a little harder on me. Cadaoir picked up his pace, he reached the bottom of the hill and followed the road to the village. Wooden buildings were charred, their roofs non-existent now. Villagers were cleaning up debris, others were sitting with the injured and crying. Wounded Soldiers were sitting and waiting for medical attention, though it would come slowly. The usual brown and dusty streets were instead covered with black and brown ash, some homes still smouldered and others had the orange glow of hot embers still inside.


    This far up river? Odd. ''Did the Post Office survive?''


    Who is Deluge? Cadaoir kept up his pace. He found himself back at the village square, now void of much activity. The Spear-woman and her entourage were nowhere in sight, but there were voices coming from the direction of a narrow street between blackened buildings. Cadaoir decided to walk in the opposite direction. The three men followed.


    ''I''ll pass. Thank you.'' Cadaoir waved his hand and increased the speed of his walk.


    The men were not so pleased. ''Pilgrim!'' The well spoken man with the moustache picked up his pace. ''Why deny us?''


    The men laughed. ''Try all of us then. We surely must match a strong opponent together. It''s impossible for us not to. Wouldn''t you like to make up for the duel you missed in Hattsu?''


    Cadaoir stopped at that comment and thought on it. Maybe he was being hasty. Maybe they could prove a challenge. ''OK, we four can duel.'' Cadaoir responded. ''Tomorrow, on the eastern edge of the village, near the quarry road to The Temple.''Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    Cadaoir scanned the area, already looking for his advantages. ''Are you sure you want this now?''


    The men looked at each other hesitantly, Cadaoir hurried them. ''You have asked for this. Come!''


    A waste of my time. He thought to himself. Autumn''s package was destroyed, I should be replenishing my supplies, not playing with these... People...


    They say otherwise? ''They lie.''


    ''My men would not lie to me!'' She stated sternly.


    Cadaoir was honest. ''They already have.'' The woman looked deep into Cadaoir''s eyes, searching for something. A flicker of a lie? Cadaoir saw how unsure she was, so he made a move to backup his story. He reached into his clothing and recovered the tattered yellow cloth that bore the symbol of his order of the Monk. ''This symbol is of my sect. I am a fighting Monk, yet I am forbidden to take part in any war. I am not to take any side or attack any soldier. Unless for the purpose of a duel.''


    Cadaoir did not oppose them. A real duel.

 Chapter 17: Ragen Mohon

    kill a person. Not only that, but there were no clues from Lady Tarbuck or her sons on how to find the robbers. It took the better part of the day examining the Tarbuck estate and the surrounding area for some sort of lead. It was only when they found footprints at the foot of the Tarbuck home''s back windows that they had a lead. One impression in the ground had a single oak leaf pressed into it, though none of those trees were in the area. Ragen deduced that the leaf must have come from afar.


    hate, anyone breaking character and meta-gaming.''


    are the rest of the Job Classes?''


    ''You know, for strategy.''


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    Ran away? I can''t say that. Ragen remembered the first bout of violence he ever saw in the game. Nothing like the highly choreographed violence he had seen in other games.


    Guns? Fire magic? Why doesn''t Butler seem impressed by any of these? Ragen was certainly impressed by the variety.


    That''s all? Ragen held his tongue. I could be a gun user? Or use fire magic? Or jump and climb really high? I would have chosen any of those to give me an edge... Now I''m stuck with a short sword swung by my short arms, I''m useless...


    Wait a minute... Ragen thought to himself. I''m worrying about causing a ruckus when it''s just a game? The game world was catching Ragen off guard with its realism, he was naturally considering consequences as he would in his own life.


    I don''t remember you having that sword drawn at all. ''OK.'' Ragen leant the threshold, not daring step into the single room shack fully. ''We should probably search the place quickly, that bang might bring someone back here.'' He looked around for their objective, but could only make out a ring of metal at the centre of the room, reflecting what little light there was from outside. A trapdoor maybe?


    Jeremy or Roger was it? He could not think of what to say. Does your mother know you''re out this late? That was his first thought, but all that came out of his mouth was: ''What the bloody hell?''


    relax when you fall!¡±

 Chapter 18: Dolon Elias

    I need to get this night over with so I can eat for real.


    then his involvement with The Information Broker, who paid for the secret footage that Dolon forever recorded. Due to this, he had created the cover story of being a soldier for hire, a lone mercenary. This explained his travels and inconsistent meetings with friends.


    The old man is showing off today eh? ''Pass it here.'' Dolon took the rifle, reloaded and took aim. He fired and hit the head of the dummy.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    What have I done for you to make a show of me today? ''So it is.'' Dolon took his next shot, hitting the red marked stomach. Yet again, Spike took his turn and left no mark. Dolon complained. ''Do you have to duplicate every one of my shots? It''s impressive, sure, but come on, you don''t have to embarrass me!''


    Spike laughed. ''All I''ve proved is that I can hit the same targets as you.'' He motioned for Dolon to fire again. ''I''m sure you''ve improved enough to do the same. You don''t become a Sniper without some level of skill.''


    Dolon reloaded and aimed, this time taking a second longer to fire. The bullet flew, hit the dummy in the stomach, but did not enter in the existing entry point. Off to the left... Dolon sighed.


    was willing. ''Spike, please tell me.''


    I can understand her point of view, but I''m not one who can argue, I''m here every single day. ''Do you agree with her?''


    Dolon was lost for words. This outbreak happened so quickly, he almost wished that he hadn''t visited at all. He wasn''t heartless, but the awkwardness was overwhelming. The other shooters hadn''t seen or heard what was happening, but they soon would. Dolon picked the man up to his feet. ''Come on, let''s go for a walk.'' Spike went with him, but the timing was dreadful. At the entrance to the Shooting Range was a man, he bore no weapons and wore nothing but a black and white tunic. He gave Dolon a subtle nod. Dolon did the same, and while Spike was not looking, he held up his open hand and mouthed ¡°five minutes¡±.


    Damn, she''s not playing around. She really must think it''s for the best if he quits. ''You need to talk to her again, make her understand-''


    ''Let me finish.'' Dolon took him by the shoulders. ''You need to make her understand, and you need to understand her side of the argument. But neither of you are completely right here. If you''re unhappy without the game, if your passion for shooting is so deeply ingrained inside you that you''re sad without it, then that shouldn''t be taken away from you. But if you''re giving your entire life to it, if the other things that are important are suffering, like your relationship with your daughter, then you have to compromise and learn to spend less time in game.'' Spike agreed, though reluctantly. Dolon shook his head. Addicted. He needs to curb this thing.


    It''s all too easy to do... ''Come on, get back to it for now. I''ve got to log off soon, but I''ll send you a mail tomorrow to talk more.''


    I need to take my own advice. After the two said an awkward goodbye, his thoughts went to his own life as he approached the man who had been waiting for him.


    I should take my own advice, but this is the easiest job I''ve ever had. Dolon smiled to himself as he searched for the white bar in the periphery of his vision, logging out to find food and sleep in a world he needed to live, but spent too little time in.

 Chapter 19: Cadaoir

    good.'' He spat at the feet of the Monk. ''Today you die.''


    He looked the other man up and down, reading his body language, his expression. You act your character''s pain well. But you dishonoured yourself, not me. Cadaoir held his tongue and maintained his calm.


    What is this? ''I''m...'' Confused.


    Six Hands? ''I knew I had a reputation.'' It wasn''t something I wanted. ''But Six Hands?''


    fans?''


    is the strongest of us.'' Cadaoir grunted at the name, the Soldier noticed. ''But! But. I think you have the potential to be the best!''


    three of your men. They requested it, I obliged and I won.'' And then for some reason they became offended and lied about our arrangement.


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    ''Your men did not respect me. They took part in the ritual of my sect, the duel, and when they lost they concocted a lie. I attacked them?'' Cadaoir was firm. ''They attack my honour.'' He glanced around him, scanning over the circle of men and women around Kainda and himself. ''Why not let your men fight? If I am guilty, will I not still lose? Why embarrass yourself?''


    Kainda was furious. ''Embarrass myself? How dare you!''


    ''How dare you.'' Cadaoir said darkly. ''Your men dishonour me, disrespect you. They lie and you fight for them? You should put them to heel!'' I thought you a worthy opponent. You have skill, true, but no spirit. This will be no trial by combat, this won''t even be a duel. This will be your destruction. Cadaoir was angry, but he did not let it show on his face. I gave myself up to you, allowed myself to be tied down. And for what? This weakness? I deserve more than this!


    No, Captain Kainda. Cadaoir thought to himself. I will show you who deserves respect. And then he was on her with no hesitation.


    Do not flinch, do not panic or you will lose. The Monk stepped side to side as the quick attacks came, his hands held up in an open handed guard, waiting for a moment to react and take control. The moment never came but Cadaoir could see that Kainda was quickly losing stamina. Her speed decreasing slowly after each flurry of thrusting strikes. She''s giving it her all in order to end this quickly.


    This is it. He thought to himself, but was wrong.


    That was good. He threw the weapon to one side, letting it clatter to the ground. But not enough. Kainda struggled to stand but the Monk was on her before she fully could.


    ''Why? Have I not proven my innocence?'' Kainda chose not to answer, but her anger, frustration and utter defeat were written all over her. Cadaoir put his face close to hers to speak. You chose to engage a stronger opponent, do not be shocked when you lose. He didn''t say it, pulling away instead.


    Cadaoir rose up, then came back down. His elbow struck the crown of Kainda''s head and then she died. When he stepped away from the body, letting it slump to the ground, the circle of Amaratsu Soldiers and Spear-men closed in. They were shocked silent by the violent end. Cadaoir had other things to think about. The Monk made his way through the crowd, searching. When he could not find what he wanted, he spoke out to everyone. ''Where is Gunnerson?'' I will deal with him next. No one replied. He spotted Jaecar. ''Where is he?'' Still no answer. Cowards.

 Chapter 20: Ragen Mohon

    I''m OK. His hands found no wounds. I''m OK. There was no blood. I''m OK. Looking up to the sky, stars twinkled through wet eyes, he felt relief. I''m OK. He felt pathetic, succumbing to the immersion. This world is not real. Death is not real here. Pain is not even real here. He wiped his eyes and scanned the area, hoping that no one had seen him crying. There was no one. Not until white glitter fell from the sky and formed into the half naked form of Butler. It was seeing this that made him realise that he too was bare chested and without his possessions. ''Butler, what happened?''


    ''I am a kid.'' Ragen admitted, accidentally. ''It was awful.''


    are a kid, aren''t you?'' He scratched his chin. ''I thought you were just some odd player character, but you''re a real kid.''


    Oh no, I didn''t mean to say that. ''No, that''s not-''


    Please don''t ask. Ragen began to walk to the city.


    At this time of night the coaches at the academy were gone from the yard, though the training equipment, the sparring rings, drill yard and practise dummies were free for use. Ragen eyed the empty yard. I can practise without anyone seeing. ''Butler, can you get me my new armour and sword?''


    Ragen took note. I need to find better equipment, but first: I''m alive! And while I''m alive I can learn how to fight properly. He approached the hanging dummies and took a short sword from the rack, confident that the other weapons were either too heavy or too advanced for him to use. This blade was straight and double edged, though it was blunted for sparring. Ragen took a swing at the dummy and struck it on the right, then he swung and hit the opposite side. His wrist felt weak with the weight, but he would get used to it.


    He continued to swing and hit for a minute more, by the end he was panting and struggling to attack with any strength. He switched to his left hand and tried to practise with that, though this was even worse as he had no coordination what-so-ever. This is terrible. He switched back to his right hand and slashed at the dummy again, only able to produce one more strike before having to rub his arm of its aches.


    have to finish it?''


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    ''Fair enough.'' Ragen strapped the leather chest and back armour to himself. At least he could do this. He buckled a wrinkled belt around his waist, then he slipped tattered brown leather wrist bands over his hands. He looked at himself blankly. This armour didn''t save my life the first time, how is it going to now?


    He''s using his body to increase the power. He''s moving into his opponent... ''He charged me down, got close.''


    I missed my chance, but I know what to look for. I know what to do. Ragen picked his weapon back up and gripped it tightly. The two started again with Butler thrusting out with a quick stab. Ragen was caught off guard, this was the first time his partner had attacked this way. He jumped backward and waved his sword wildly, fortunately making a hit on Butler''s blade and parrying it to one side. Butler used the motion of the parry to change into a circular overhead strike. This is the time! The same as before, his body is open! Ragen could see the critical targets, head, chest and stomach, but before he could charge and counter-attack, Butler''s sword was striking Ragen''s with a metallic clang and disarming him as he had done before.

 Chapter 21: Fayyim Tallhart

    Are we too late, is the fort burning? Fayyim dug her spurs into her mount and commanded it forward with greater speed. ''Onward!'' She shouted, her men answered with a loud cry. The animals beneath them pushed harder and harder, the pace increased and the mass of armoured men on horseback approached what should have been the rear guard of Amaratsu''s forces.


    I hope they understand. She squinted at the fading blue in the crowds ahead, took a breath and held it. No use worrying now. ''Charge!'' She shouted. The Red Front let loose a loud battle-cry in return. ''Charge!'' She cried again, and her men cried in response. ''Charge!''


    Damn it! Fayyim whirled her mount around, knocking Soldiers to the ground as she did. She wanted to support her men, but instead fell face first into the horse''s mane when a spear tip took her through her mailed arm. Her cry was muffled, as was the profanity she shouted.


    She came back up swinging wildly, knocking away blades and shafts as they made to kill her. She protected herself successfully, but her horse had no such joy. The great beast rose up on its back legs, wounds glowing on its neck. Its legs feebly held its own weight and buckled underneath it. Fayyim was thrown from its back and the two crashed to the ground. The crowd backed away momentarily, enough time for Fayyim to recover, to climb to her feet, but then the swell came again. My sword! Her hands were empty. She would die. The enemy closed around her. Soldiers, Spear-men and Fire Dancers.


    Fire Dancers. Fayyim read their powers, absorbed their abilities. Her elite Job Class, the psychic Accessor, allowed it. With fists swinging, Fayyim struck out against those surrounding her. Flames ignited from her hands. Despite her lack of unarmed fighting experience, the fire gave her an edge over the others. Her hand swept against the broad side of a curved sword, its heat quickly bringing the metal to a red glow. Its user pulled it away protectively, but Fayyim saw his flinch and darted to him, striking with the other hand and burning the man''s body with orange fire. He went down rolling and clutching at himself.


    Suddenly black feathers and shrieks surrounded her. The Amaratese had retreated and given way to the scratching, scraping, slashing and biting of Tengu. The black crow like men were making short work of the Soldiers. The Druids? Fayyim struggled to her feet until a hand from above took her by the shoulder and pulled her up. It was Lupin.


    You got the Druid''s help. Thank you. Fayyim scanned around her. The battle outside the gates was no longer so one sided, as the Amaratese were bowled over by Wolfmen, Tengu and Ursucan, the large were-bears from the Druid job progression. Amongst the shape shifting Druids were packs of wolves, giant sized birds that kicked and scratched with talons, deadly animals from deep within the forests. And there were beastly creatures too, terrifying and wild, from places that were foreign to Fayyim. All were controlled by the Druid clan.


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    What was that?


    Finally taking notice of her, an enemy struck Fayyim in between the shoulders. She hit the ground hard, bounced and rolled. She did not see what had attacked her, only Lupin coming to her aid, standing over her with his spear at hand, his shield was gone and his off-hand was wounded. Coming for him were three Soldiers with long spears pointed. Lupin, you can do this. Fayyim thought to herself. She dug deep and read the enemy, this time not to take their powers. She read their status, health, stamina and their capabilities. They''re all low on health, mostly the one on the... ''Deal with the one on the left!'' Fayyim ordered. Lupin followed.


    Princess Ashara. Fayyim wanted so much to be close to her, fighting fit. I''d sure like to try out your power. She was so focused on the leader of the enemy forces that she hardly noticed the fighting around her dying down. The enemy was all but obliterated, only Princess Ashara and her band of guards remained, fighting at the centre of the fort.


    Can no one knock you down? ''How goes it?'' Fayyim pushed herself up to her feet, using the large stone she was resting against for support.


    My loyal friend, always there for me. ''I can walk.'' I can limp. Fayyim took his hand and allowed him to support her.


    You''re mine. Fayyim charged again, heading into the unbearable heat. The circle of Hurdland forces dispersed quickly, but the remaining Flame Pitcher was not so quick. She was instantly burnt due to her close proximity to her leader.

 Chapter 22: Dolon Elias

    Odd. Dolon was surprised that Niall hadn''t thrown the man overboard. He looked out to sea, but kept his ears open.


    He''s acting soft, why? Dolon pretended to scrape something off the deck with his boot.


    The day passed and the others logged off for the night, Dolon was left alone on the vessel. On deck the crew had also left the game for the night, yet the Captain still stood at the wheel, guiding his ship gently under the stars. Dolon could see that he was at peace here, at his most joyous. And I have to ruin his morning. Damn it.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    Unless he''s like me, and he has to dedicate his time in game for some reason.


    At least it means I don''t have to stab this poor guy in the back now, since we''re going to be too late to act. Dolon thought to himself, then recalled the wroth of Niall. Maybe I should do something... But what? He eyed the Captain up and down, took note of the dual pistols at his belt and saw no other weapons. What Job Class is he? I''m sure I''ve never seen him at the Range. May as well ask. ''Captain.'' He called out in friendly tones. ''Sorry to pry, but what''s your job?''


    He has to have been cross trained in the Shooting Range. ''Pistoleer and Trader?''


    I don''t have too much time for this, I need to come up with a plan before we reach the island. ''Sure.''


    ''No lad, it''s the best combination.'' He was as pleasant as ever, talking about his ways of playing. ''The Shifter allows me to breath under water, gills you see.'' He pointed to his neck. ''I can go under and make repairs and clean the hull easily. The Climber in me makes it easier to get about this ship, up the masts to fix the sails. They''re perfect for being on a ship.''


    Dolon had to agree. ''Good choice.'' His shifter abilities will give him all sorts of fighting advantages, just like Niall. All I need is for this guy to whip out bear claws and ruin my day. And climbing? He could use that to sabotage the ship before we can rob the thing, cut the sails and leave us to the ocean current? I wonder if Niall knew this much? Dolon pondered. I could tie him to the wheel, maybe blow out an arm or a leg, take the fight out of him. Then when his crew appear, take care of them as quick as I can. I''ll have to wait until we reach Slug Island first.


    Thinking about what? ''You''ve made me think on something.''


    What? Even sooner than I thought! It was dark, Dolon could not see land. Damn it! He took his rifle from his shoulder and reversed it, striking the Captain in the back of his neck and head. I can tie him up while he''s unconscious.


    That should have worked. Dolon struck out with the butt of the rifle once more, catching the man in the temple. This time he fell to the planked floor and remained there. ''I''m really sorry Captain, I am.''

 Chapter 23: Fayyim Tallhart

    The Soldier was all smiles. ''Commander Tallhart, we won the battle. You won the battle!'' He bowed. ''We had to place you to rest inside this shack because the main building was heavily damaged and deemed unsafe, I''m very sorry.''


    Fiery torches lit the way through dug out passageways, past intersecting corridors and barred doors. Fayyim was soon deep within the jail, at the open cell door of Princess Ashara. Griff was sitting on a chair with the gruff Bronze John at his side. A dark skinned beauty, clothed in red and gold, was chained off her feet against the rear wall of the cell. Her ebony skin was highlighted with golden tones from the torchlight, and her otherwise dark eyes appeared as pools of fire. Fayyim was almost awestruck. She''s beautiful, but that smile...


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    ''You keep me away from nothing!'' Fayyim turned on Hawthorn, he saw her anger swell. ''I am your commanding officer, you do not make decisions for me, I make them for you!''


    ''You guess?'' Fayyim was incredulous. He doesn''t care at all! ''Captain, why did you want to question this man?''


    Hawthorn''s disappointed me, but I do understand. Fayyim closed her eyes and listened to the sounds around her. All about the camp were cheers and laughter and songs. Her men celebrated their win over the eastern forces. Their cries echoed ¡°Tallhart, Tallhart, Tallhart!¡± I suppose I should join them.


    We can work while we drink.

 Chapter 24: Dolon Elias

    And I am souring that for him.


    I''m really sorry. He wanted to admit to the quiet Captain. I wish that I didn''t have to do this. I wish that you''d just have taken us to Churash. I wish that there was some other way, but I''ve been put in this position and I have to follow through or I''ll give myself away. They all think I''m like them. They think I get a kick out of their sickness. Captain, I''m sorry. I have to play the part, I have to eat.


    He doesn''t want to experience this. He''ll return when it''s over, to find his cargo stolen, to find his crew missing. But maybe he''s strong enough to know that his boat will still be here, and with that he can recover. I hope that''s how it is.


    Please Captain, don''t log back in. If you come back he''ll know I''ve lied and he''ll kill both of us. I''ll lose my job and you''ll lose your boat. Don''t come back. Don''t come back.


    are you doing?''


    Is this some deep role-play? ''I''ll tell you if you tell me why you''re scratching.''


    There, now you''ll never find out the truth.


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    You son of a...


    That''ll show you. But then he remembered the Captain. Oh no. He panicked. ''They might still come.'' He hoped.


    I wouldn''t do that. Everyone thought on it and agreed, Dolon lied. ''What do we do then?''


    If they''re double crossing us, they''ll soon regret it.''


    How did that get there? He quickly snatched it up before Stacey could touch it. ''I''ll take that, thanks.''


    Please don''t be the Captain. Dolon took the initiative and headed for the stairs up to the deck. He stuck to the shadows, keeping out of the light from above, and listened carefully.


    . His face was full of obvious nervousness and guilt. ''Niall!'' He called, a hand on the hilt of the curved sword.. ''I thought you had jumped ship. Hurry and come aboard, we should be making a move as quickly as we can.''


    Odd. I must be having an affect on him.

 Chapter 25: Cadaoir

    Who do I ask now? He wondered while making his way through the crowd.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    There''s always something more bothersome than what I''m after. ''That''s fine. Introduce me to the Captain, I''ll plead my case.''


    do not times, when it concerns me anyway. I don''t consider you as a threat to Amaratsu, I see you as someone who could help us.'' He pointed to the people passing by. ''So many Amaratese citizens and fighters, so many loyal people, yet I can''t find anyone willing to take care of a simple matter for their country.'' The Captain in red, with red hair and a red eye patch and a red sheathed knife on his belt, motioned to his large wooden trade ship, its mast stretching up high. ''She''s going south, but we head to the Floating City of Churash first. It''s a great coincidence that you''ve come my way. I''m willing to take you with us if you take care of some business while we''re there.''


    Too risky. He thought. ''No.'' Cadaoir made to walk away.


    A threat? Cadaoir scowled at the man, who in return only smiled more friendly than ever.

 Chapter 26: Willow

    But he''s so quiet and nervous, the Admiral isn''t going to be impressed. Not at first. She patted him on the shoulder. ''Remember, like I''ve said before, you better not have any links to Amaratsu or Churash. This is the admiralty considering your entry, they have access to information that you would never believe. This guy can find out more about you than you know yourself.''


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    only the best.'' She motioned to the Cannoneer. ''Sir Mokoe may be a rough man, he lacks the grace of the high Admiralty, or even the seamen of the Hurdland Grand fleet, but he more than makes up for it in skill and in power.''


    Please let there be something here that doesn''t involve Admirals or ship Captains or anything to do with the sea. I''ve never met such a stuck up bunch of players in my life.


    Perfect. She reached out and snatched it from the board excitedly. It''s been a long time.

 Chapter 27: Ragen Mohon

    A single wolf pelt was heavy, and Ragen ran through the forest with three skins bundled in his arms. One hung off and trailing on the ground behind him, leaves and dust whipping into the air with their drag. Butler was ahead, sword drawn and legs pounding the ground quickly and heavily. All the while snarls and growls were getting louder and louder, closer and closer.


    ''Hurry up, Ragen!'' Butler shouted at him.


    Ragen''s legs were moving as fast as they could, but they had a smaller stride and the weight was holding the boy back. ''I''m trying!'' I''m really trying! The gnarled oaks and silver barked birches looked as blurs to him, he was moving fast, just not quite fast enough.


    ''Try harder!'' Butler laughed as he said it, knowing that Ragen was doing the best he could.


    Ragen failed to see the humour in the situation. Butler had promised to take him on simpler quests, courier jobs, fetch quests, animal extermination, yet they were never as simple as they seemed. They were mugged while couriering carved wooden statues. They were beaten up by poachers who were competing for hunting deer. And now they were being chased down by wolves. Wolves that were originally the duo''s target for extermination.


    They had previously managed to corner five of the smaller animals, trapping them at a river''s edge and slaying them for their pelts, which would sell well later on, according to Butler. But when the remainder of the pack turned up on the other side of the water, large enough to cross unhindered, the two were forced to fight for their lives and run, completely overwhelmed.


    They ran through brush, bush, beech and birch - leaves and branches in their faces, soil kicking up onto their boots and their laces, with the smell of natural decay in their noses. The ravenous pack outran them and blocked them, but Butler killed two of the beasts to create an exit, and Ragen managed to wound one of the larger wolves with a wild swing as he ran away. They had been running ever since.


    ''Butler!'' Ragen managed to call through panting. ''I can''t go on, my legs are going to fall off.''


    ''We''re going to die if you don''t keep going!''


    ''I need to drop the pelts.''


    ''No! We need them for the money, we need new equipment!''


    ''But-''


    ''Split up! If we go separate ways we might be able to split the pack.'' He did not wait for an answer, he sprung over a fallen tree to his right and disappeared behind a tight group of saplings. Ragen didn''t have the time or speed to follow, he remained running in the same direction, the wolves on his heals. Not one of them had followed Butler.


    ''Butler!'' Ragen found himself shouting. ''You stupid idiot!'' He could not go on, his legs were too tired, his arms as well. His calves ached and his neck was tense and sore. They''re going to get me, I may as well give in to the inevitable. ''Butler!'' He screamed. ''I''m going to die!''


    Ragen stopped his retreat and turned to meet his fate. The wolves were quickly surrounding him, grey and black killers. The young Soldier spun around to see what was moving where, which beast would strike first. They snarled and slavered, gnashed and growled. Ragen saw movement to his right, it was a wolf looking to move behind him. Then there was something darting to his left, he looked and saw the same thing, another wolf looking to move to his rear. That was his mistake, looking away from the other. Ragen heard the pounding of feet and the scrape of claws against the roots on the forest floor as the grey beast leapt at him. The boy flinched and then tripped, catching his foot in one of the wolf pelts that was dangling by his feet. The wolf missed a bite but did land on top of Ragen, trampling him before jumping away. A black coated male came next, its gaping mouth primed to clamp down on him. Then there was a scream.


    Butler came crashing through a bush with his sword swinging. The wolves were startled. ''Don''t die, Ragen!'' He fell on a smaller member of the pack with hurried slashes. The animal yelped and attempted to flee, but fell to the ground under its wounds. Before the first could die, the man had rushed another and chased it down.


    The surprise gave Ragen enough time to roll away. He held on to the pelts tightly, even when the black wolf was at him again. Drop the pelts. He thought to himself, yet his instincts said otherwise. He pushed the skins at the big wolf as it made to bite him. The fur filled the animal''s mouth and Ragen heard a sickly gag and then a choke. The beast knocked the boy back, but instead of attacking him, it stopped to shake the furry unpleasantness from its mouth. I just wanted to die and have it over with. But as he thought it, the realness of the game gave rise to his natural instincts. His sword was already drawn when he finally realised it: that he did not want to die.


    Despite his weapon and renewed survival instinct, he was not quite ready to fight. He took flight toward Butler, his best hope for protection. Then he remembered why they had fled the wolves in the first place, they were sorely outnumbered. Butler had one animal attached to his arm, red wounds glowing. Another was trying to wrestle his sword away from him, shaking its head side to side with the blade between its teeth. A third was rounding a tree behind the older Soldier, looking to strike from outside of his field of view. Ragen dashed around Butler without helping him. He rounded the same tree oppositely as the third wolf, coming face to face with the grey and brown mass of teeth, claws and fur.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The wolf had not expected Ragen to appear so suddenly, startled in surprise. The animal looked a little less dangerous when its yellow eyes closed to slits and its ears flopped back like some domesticated dog being told off.


    It was in that moment when Ragen did what he had not had the confidence to do before. He would have usually darted away, running scared, but he saw only an animal, not a scary monster. Don''t show weakness. He raised his sword above his head. Don''t show fear. ''Hyah!'' He shouted, as loud as he could. It''s only an animal, I can do this at least. ''Ha-ah!'' He shouted again and advanced on the wolf, swinging his sword at it. He was out of range, but the wolf did not care, it only cared to run away. Ragen had gotten lucky, this one was obviously a runt.


    Butler! He eventually found his courage, and his concern. He rounded the tree and prepared himself. What he found was not what he had expected. Two wolves were dead at his companions feet, another was still latched on to his arm. Butler''s back was to the tree, three more of the grey monsters paced back and forth, looking for an angle to strike. Ragen slashed with his sword and struck the wolf that held Butler''s arm, the blade sunk into its bulging shoulders and the beast released its grip with a massive cry of pain. Ragen slashed again but made only a glancing hit as the creature sprinted away awkwardly.


    ''Ragen!'' Butler was full of smiles and full of wounds. ''There''s only four left, I think we can take them.''


    ''I suppose that is the point of the quest.'' Ragen could not smile back, he was not quite that confident. How Butler could, he never knew.


    ''I''ll go for the three healthy ones, you take out the wounded and then come help me.'' Butler never waited for any agreement, he was off and slashing away at wolves that easily dodged him.


    Ragen followed him into the fight, finding the injured wolf and pulling his sword back to strike. The wolf backed away and snarled, looking like it had less of a fight in it than before. Ragen advanced.


    With surprising speed the animal snapped at the boy and took him by the leg, its jaws crushing flesh and possibly bone. It tricked me? Ragen yelped, his sword sprang forward and the blade caught the animal in the neck. It was not a particularly powerful blow, the sword was not impressively sharp, but it seemed to do well. The wolf fell away from Ragen with a thud and a red wound was glowing intensely across the side of its neck. He fell to one knee and nursed his leg, realising that it had actually gone numb. It was not broken as far as he could tell. Thank god for that...


    A shout broke Ragen from his thoughts and back to attention. Butler was fencing with the three remaining enemies, using the trees for cover while he danced between them with thrusts and swings. Ragen watched intently, waiting for the time for him to strike. When a wolf positioned itself to the side of Butler, turning its back to Ragen, the younger Soldier rushed in and slashed the beast above the tail. The animal cried and ran, it sprinted straight ahead and past Butler, looking to escape in fear. Butler caught it with his longsword as it crossed him, killing the animal and crashing it to the ground with a violent roll.


    Ragen''s heart was pumping, his legs and arms were shaking. His fear remained, but seemed less important compared to the need to use his sword. He ran at the other two wolves and swung wildly, missing each time but continuing on and on and on. Butler joined him, although much more composed. The animals tried to fight, then they tried to flee, but all they could do was die.


    Ragen hardly noticed that Butler was making the most affective strikes, he only took note of the fact that he was doing something. Hitting something. Fighting and winning against something. He screamed and shouted and swung his little sword, then something took him by the collar and dragged him off his feet, yet he still flailed with his weapon. I''m winning! Then Butler''s face took up the entirety of his vision.


    ''Ragen, calm down, they''re dead!'' Butler was laughing while the smaller boy thrashed around in his grip, still trying to hit the downed enemy.


    Ragen snapped out of his berserk and fell to his backside. ''They''re dead?''


    ''Yes!''


    ''They''re dead!''


    Butler laughed. ''Yes!''


    ''We did it!'' Ragen turned his head to Butler, incredulous.


    With a strong pull, Butler lifted Ragen to his feet. ''We did it. You did it. And about time too.''


    ''I killed something?'' I finally did it, I killed something! The thought was both elating and somewhat unnerving.


    ''You did well.'' Butler let him go. ''We can''t stop now though, the job''s not done, we need to get the pelts. We can make a lot more money with these.''


    ''Yeah...'' Ragen was not listening fully, he was wide eyed in shock at what had unfolded. Still proud and shaky and unnerved. The adrenaline was fuelling him even now, making him think and feel differently than usual, but his brain did finally catch up with his ears. ''Don''t you mean ¡°the job''s not done, we need to inform the farmer that his cows won''t get eaten any more¡±?'' Which was the quest.


    Butler shrugged. ''I like money more than farmers.'' He laughed, as did Ragen.


    ''We''ll talk to the farmer and then sell the fur.'' Ragen said as he sheathed his sword.


    The two waited for the fallen animals to vanish, for their pelts to drop to the ground, ready for retrieval. Ragen was on a high from their success, proud of his fight. He thought about all of his failed attempts at quests, at his defeat in the yards and sparring rings of the Soldier Academy. The victory made those things seem not so bad.


    He smiled. Is this what she loved? Stumbling to a silver barked tree, he leant up against its smooth trunk and took a deep breath. The air was thick with nature and sweat and blood, the green canopy above was alive in the wind, and the sound of birds and distant distraught barks filled his ears. All things that he could never experience in his grey suburban world were here. Is this what she chose over everything? Over us?


    Ragen laughed, then he cried.

 Chapter 28: Cadaoir

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 Chapter 29: Dolon Eiias

    The galley entered the docks of the Floating City under the cover of darkness, having evaded Churashi naval patrols earlier in the night. Usually the Harlequins would have been fine to pass through their home waters unmolested, only this time they stood upon a pirate vessel, which could have instigated a shoot first ask questions later scenario.


    Dolon had been his usual talkative self, conversing with the crew and his comrades throughout the journey. This was, however, not true to his feelings. He was livid, as angry as angry could be, despite his ability to hide it. Niall, as a threat to the pirates that had made him wait, laid waste to the smuggling vessel before leaving for Churash. ¡°This is what will happen if you dare do me wrong.¡± Dolon had to stand and watch as that cheerful, happy, deeply involved Captain''s ship burnt and sank. Dolon had to hold his rage inside, and it hurt him.


    He leapt from the deck of the pirate galley and on to the bobbing wooden side walks of the city. This was home ground, he was relieved to be here. Dolon ignored his comrades, his leader, the pirates, he ignored the denizens of the city and lastly he ignored his need to hold a false front. Walking quickly through the city, he unleashed profanity after profanity, cursing Niall and grieving for the crew of the smuggling boat. He looked a loon to those he passed, but venting helped. By the time he had reached a city square, a small grassy island that was connected to floating city blocks via wood and rope bridges, he had calmed considerably.


    He took a breath and leant tiresomely against a pointed rock jutting from the ground, around him were people meeting and talking, or picnicking on the soft grass. Orange and yellow lanterns lit the place up, hung all over the towering buildings surrounding the island, their warm colours soothing the troubled Sniper. His calm did not last, Niall''s voice came from behind, having tracked Dolon some how.


    ''We meet with Tanda soon.'' His hand touched Dolon''s shoulder, who shuddered. ''I want you to get some sleep, I need you looking fresh. She won''t trust us with the location of the cache if we don''t look the part, look capable.''


    ''Right.'' Dolon turned to Niall. ''I''ll be sleeping soon.''


    ''Good, you''ve been active a lot lately.'' Niall, like Dolon, kept their language safe from outer game terminology. No ¡°logging out¡±, it was sleeping. No ¡°playing¡±, it was being active.


    ''Yeah, I could use the rest.'' Dolon patted Niall on the arm in a friendly manner, then he walked away. Niall was left alone in the city square while Dolon found the busiest street at this time of night and melted into the moving crowd.


    Music was playing high in the air, a chorus of flutes and horns. Songs of the sea were sung amongst them, though not in rhythm or tune. Sailors of varying job classes, Soldiers, Swordsmen, Archers and Spear-men walked the pathways that floated either side of the waterways, where long narrow rowing boats and gondolas made journeys through the city. Dolon noted unusual numbers of western people, Knights and their Squires, Grapplers, Wrestlers and Strikers, even some who looked like Druids. Then he realised that a representation of eastern players was amongst the population too, Duellists, Fire Breathers, a rare number of Long Arms, then someone he presumed to be a Spiritualist or its progression of a Monk. Though most people on the Spiritualist progression appeared calm, friendly and accepting, this man walked as if everyone around him was a lesser being. Dolon scowled then quickly moved past.


    The influx of foreigners drew Dolon''s curiosity, he tapped a man on the shoulder next to him, a local Churashi Soldier, by the looks of his half pirate - half tribal attire. ''What''s with the Hurdies and the Easties?''


    ''They''re all here for the duels.'' He said.


    Duels? Dolon was surprised, he knew nothing about it. The last duel tournament was held months before in Amaratsu''s City of Bones, it ended abruptly when a Hurdland group sabotaged the arena and brought down stone and wood on top of the Amaratese audience. The event had not been held since. ''There''s a tournament here?''


    ''Yeah, it starts tomorrow.''This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    ''Who''s fighting?''


    The man''s eyes looked to the side as he thought. ''I don''t know everyone, only the big names.''


    ''Go on.'' Dolon prodded as they walked together.


    ''Sir Daniels, Li Tsun, Captain Deluge, Auryon of the Black Foot, and Wolf. And if you know anything about her, you''re in for a surprise.''


    ''Wolf is here?'' Wolf was a famous Hurdland warrior, a Wrestler of great renown. Dolon did not know much about the others, though he had heard of Li Tsun, and Auryon. ''I think this tourney might be the break I need!''


    ''Good luck with that, it sold out over a month ago.'' The Soldier informed Dolon. ''There''s no way anyone else is getting in to see these fights.''


    ''God damn it!'' Dolon sighed.


    The Soldier laughed. ''That''s what I said when I found out.'' He walked on quicker and waved to Dolon. ''I''ve got to hurry, see you around!''


    ''See you.'' Dolon replied.


    ''I can get you in.'' A voice came from his left.


    ''Stacey!'' The Sniper faced the masked man behind him. ''What are you doing here?'' Is he following me? First Niall, now him. I need to keep my eyes peeled.


    ''Just taking a walk, I happened to come across your conversation.'' Stacey shrugged.


    I hope so. ''What did you hear?''


    ''That there''s a tourney and you can''t get in to see.''


    ''Yeah, you heard right.'' Dolon stepped aside for a passing woman, the foot traffic being too heavy to stand still in one place. ''Come on.'' He prompted Stacey to walk. ''So you think you can get me in?''


    ''I can get both of us in. If you want to.''


    Dolon considered it. ''How?''


    ''I''m a Ghostform.'' He whispered. ''I can shift through the arena walls and open a door or window for you. We sneak in.''


    ''That''s...'' He wanted to say cheap, but he had to play out his role. Plus, he really wanted to see the tournament. ''A really good idea.''


    ''I know.'' Stacey lifted his head up proudly. ''So, you want to?''


    ''Yes. Yes I do.'' Said Dolon.


    ''Cool.''


    ''Cool.''


    ''When is this thing?''


    ''I have no idea, I guess we ask.'' Suggested Dolon.


    ''Ah yes, ask.'' Stacey giggled. ''Working under Niall, I''m not used to taking the initiative.''


    Is he just as annoyed by Niall as I am? Dolon dared not laugh, just in case. When Stacey noticed Dolon''s lack of reaction, his smile disappeared from his face. Dolon noticed this. Maybe he''s thinking the same thing as me? He doesn''t like Niall either, but doesn''t want to say it. It was an interesting thought.


    Time went without a word after, a quiet awkwardness destroying any chance of conversation. As soon as the two came across an inn, Dolon took his leave from Stacey and said his goodbyes, they would meet again once Dolon knew the time and place. Until then, he needed to escape the silence and at last find rest. The Sniper eyed the peripheral bar, the options window that only he could see opened up in front of him.


    With a number of quick glances, he navigated to a world map that was shaded in black over all the places he had yet to visit. He focused in on the floating city and marked a save location on it. Usually in death, the game itself would respawn a player at the last safe space they had spent some time visiting beforehand, but this manual save would act as a secondary respawn point for when the first was not so accommodating.


    Dolon logged out. The world turned to white and then black, until his head rushed cold and his comfortable chair could be felt at his back.

 Chapter 30: Willow

    Good. Willow turned her mount around and trotted away. ''Thank you!'' She said cheerfully with a wave. She took up a position at the north end of the bridge and climbed down from the large brown and white horse. Routing through the saddlebags she pulled out some bread and cheese, a water skin and a large green apple, which she gave to the horse. Lifting her quiver of arrows from over her shoulder and setting them down against the bridge wall, she hopped up onto the stone and sat with her legs dangling over the edge, the water running high beneath her. She slowly ate the food, using the meal and the view to pass the time. Her horse was left to eat the apple and then graze on the edge of the road.


    From the forest road came a column of footmen carrying flaming torches, Soldier''s in leather armour over red tunics. Amaratsu? Here? Willow was in a panic, this was not good at all. She dropped from the wall on to the bridge and slung her quiver over her shoulder. With a click of her tongue the horse came to her side, she unclasped the longbow attached to the rear of the saddle and gave the horse a slap on the backside, making it jog away a short distance off the road. It would not run from her completely.


    My trophy won, the enemy dead,


    My army kindred, never alone.


    Hardship ends now I return to my bed,


    Garroway cheers, my sword''s come home.


    That''s a Hurdland song! Willow stepped to the centre of the road and called to the oncoming army. ''Who travels these roads so late and wakes the birds with such a terrible tune?''


    Willow squinted at the men standing in three columns on the bridge, it was only when a wind blew through and the flaming torches in their hands lit up with a violent flicker that she could see their colours more carefully. Red and white. She smiled. ''They call me Willow, a head hunter and friend to Fayyim Tallhart and Lupin.''


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    Sounds like some sort of special operations squad to me. Willow made mental notes. ''OK, anything else?''


    Willow stuttered. ''You want one person? Not a group?''


    Cloud Diver that I''ve heard of in the south somewhere, but no one has been able to verify that. I would really have to search hard for others, it could take a long time. Is that OK?''


    Hawthorn... Fayyim tutted. ''I know what you mean.''


    ''Fair enough.'' I just don''t like him. ''Just keep an eye out for her, OK? For old time''s sake?''


    I''m a stranger to everyone, it''s all part of the job. Willow held the torch up and lit her way. Maybe I''ll go and make camp with those bridge workers, I''ll be a friend to them tonight and then a stranger by the morning.

 Chapter 31: Ragen Mohon

    her.¡± This is what they had said to him, wild eyed and angry. Just like her? He screamed in his own head. She didn''t end up like that out of choice, neither will I! You don''t know anything! But he didn''t dare say that to their faces. Twelve hours introspection led only to darker moods. But when the boy entered the world and saw the fruits of his labours, Ragen felt good about himself, he had made progress. The words of his parents no longer stung. They would not stop him.


    This is all I need. ''I''m playing just as much as I need to.''


    ''You don''t know me!'' Ragen''s breathing was heavy, he was hot in the face. When he saw Butler''s expression of hurt, he sighed and came to his senses. He doesn''t deserve this. ''It''s not you, I''m sorry. I''ve been hearing the same thing from other people too.''


    ''No!'' I can''t.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Ghost Rejection, do you know what that is?'' He looked up to see Butler thinking.


    No, I don''t deserve your sympathy. ''The worst part was...'' He looked deep in to Butler''s eyes. ''I don''t think I cared very much. It didn''t affect me at all.'' Butler was incredulous, Ragen saw it. He wanted to make an excuse, so his friend wouldn''t think less of him. ''I wasn''t close to her, we didn''t spend any time together. I did my thing and she did hers and we never did anything together, it was always like that. We were so different. I never knew her at all... That''s why I''m here.''


    why she loved it here, if I could just experience what she did, I could know her. I couldn''t grieve for her, but I want to now. I want to be sad and I want to miss her and I want to have a part of her to hold on to, because in all fourteen years of my life, I''ve never had anything of her to keep.'' I''m a bad person, a bad brother. And now she''s dead. He cried and cried.


    He hates me. He looked to his friend and saw only a blank face.


    I better get to it.''


    You have to take a break for a few days, get some rest, free up some head-space.''


    Real days, not our twelve hour days. So get going!''

 Chapter 32: Cadaoir

    Wolf, a Wrestler from Hurdland. She''s been a thorn in the side of front line Amaratese forces for a long time now. Very good against armed opponents, specialising in urban combat.


    Captain Deluge. A powerful Spear-man from Hattsu, he''s been one of our foremost fighters against Hurdland invaders at our coasts.


    Auryon. He''s the leader of the Black Foot Company, one of our best. He pushed back Hurdland during the recent battle on The Sands alongside Princess Ashara. He''s a Duellist, he''ll have particular advantages against you.


    Li Tsun. An as of yet undefeated Scrapper from The City of Light, he''s a prize fighter this one, defeating everyone the Fighting Pits of Hurdland and the Fire Pits of Amaratsu have thrown at him.


    Sir Daniels, a western Knight who from what I''ve heard, has been a pain in the backside of Churash during their battles on Slug Island. This one is supposedly a one man army, though I doubt the testimony of Churashi ground fighters, they''re a lousy bunch.'' He placed the paper back into his pocket.


    A mix of weapon users and unarmed fighters.


    if your reputation is accurate.'' Tori smiled.


    When.'' Tori corrected. ''When you face him. There are competitors from the Amaratese military, all of whom I outrank considerably, that will take an impressive dive on my order, making Fisher the winner of their matches, allowing him to proceed to the next bracket.''


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    Monk. You have made this deal, if you break it, I will enact a toll.'' Tori was quietly furious.


    You will change your plan, you can''t risk anyone else failing to get your sword. He gave no sign of changing his mind.


    somewhat traceable. I would rather not be embroiled in a scandal between the Churashi and our navy. Bribing the fighters is still the safer option, it''s almost expected.''


    me.'' He was impassioned. ''You will get your sword, I will get my challenge.''

 Chapter 33: Willow

    Strongharbour was busy with people coming into Hurdland from all over the world. Fayyim''s award was turning into a parade, a festival, and everyone was interested. Willow watched as scores of people passed the window and made their way together out of the city and north to the capital, Garroway City.


    The store she was standing in was wall to wall with glass fronted shelves, paper scrolls were neatly stacked within. A small wooden chandelier with four candles illuminated the room where the daylight coming through the window failed. A bespectacled man sat behind a glass and wood display counter, a doorway led to store rooms behind him, where people could be heard working beyond.


    ''Terrible time for a party.'' Willow said as she gazed out of the window.


    The man in his crisply pressed trousers and shirt was flicking through a number of unrolled scrolls on the counter. His gaze never once diverted from the job at hand. ''It''s the perfect time. Word is that Cairo is using The Red Front''s recent victories and award ceremony to make a show of force. The Red Front, The Order of the Silver Ram, Field Marshal Demshir and his personal retinue, as well as a large number of regular troops will all be paraded in front of the Garroway nobility, as well as some choice invites from every major region in Hurdland, and ambassadors from Amaratsu, Churash and Spirit Island.''


    ''The Silver Rams will surely put the fear of the Gods into Amaratsu, that I''m sure of.'' Willow turned to the clerk. ''I can''t see the Churashi ambassador being moved much by all of this though.''


    ''That''s why Cairo is having Admiral Demshir choke the neck of River Deep.''


    ''Wow, the fleet is going up river?''


    ''Indeed.'' The gentleman smiled while flipping a scroll over on to another pile and reading from a fresh parchment.


    ''The brothers Demshir both at Garroway...'' Odd, that they''re pulling High Commanders from the field... Anyway. ''Why are delegates from Spirit Island going to be there? Aren''t they covered by Amaratsu?''


    ''Officially, yes. But Spirit Island claims to be a sovereign state, while Amaratsu claims otherwise. There''s been some contention between the two for a while, especially with the promotion of this Prince Philip to High Commander of the Amaratsu military. Spiritualists of the Spirit Temple aren''t supposed to take sides in the war, they''re pacifists up until a point, only taking action when it is completely justified and without recourse.'' He paused to read something of interest, once done, he continued. ''There''s no information about Hurdland''s intention, but I personally think that Cairo is hoping to bring the Spiritualists on side.''


    ''Is that even possible?''


    ''Maybe. With the land dispute and the insult of Amaratsu raising one of the island''s Monks, traitor or not, up to such a high position of power, the Spirit Temple may well seek to regain their honour through war.'' The man looked up from his work to Willow. ''And may the Gods have mercy on those who the Spiritualists and Monks oppose in open battle.''


    They can''t be that powerful... Can they? She thought to herself before shaking off the conversation and getting back to business. ''Anyway, have you got anything for me?''


    ''One second...'' The clerk finished reading from a scroll and then placed it down in one of the many piles he had been building on the counter. ''I have three groups for you to choose from.''


    ''OK.''


    ''The first pile is of powerful warriors from rival nation''s armies, those who I am sure would defect for the right price. Not so honourable, but their ability is proven.''


    ''Right.''


    ''The second pile are people who are part of other Hurdland armies, those who may jump ship to the Red Front. They meet your criteria to the letter. The third pile is of neutral warriors who may or may not join you, that is your choice and your job to make it happen.'' The man smiled. ''What will it be?''


    ''Give me the third pile.'' Willow was quick to answer.


    ''What? Just like that?''


    ''Just like that. The first two piles have way too much drama attached, too much political baggage.''


    The clerk took up the first two piles and placed them on a table behind him. ''You''re a smart girl, Willow.'' He grinned.


    ''So, let me have it, who are my choices?''


    ''Gold first.'' The man held out his hand. ''We Brokers won''t make money giving this information away for free.''


    Willow pulled a leather pouch from her belt and handed it to the clerk. ''Take what you need and then use the rest to put me in credit will you?''If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    ''I sure will!''


    ''Let me have it, Arthur.''


    The man pulled the string on the pouch and peered inside. ''Sure.'' He placed the pouch out of sight under the counter and fingered through the pile of scrolls on the table, the leafs of cream paper wrapping around each other. ''This is not a long list. First we have a man named Li Tsun, a Scrapper of great renown.''


    ''I know the name.'' Said Willow.


    ''Many do. He may be willing to take on your job.''


    ''A Scrapper seems slightly underpowered.''


    ''Don''t judge the job, judge the man. This particular man is unbelievably strong.'' Arthur, the clerk, fingered through the pile. ''Next is a Knight called Sir Daniels.''


    ''I thought you said this list didn''t include Hurdland men?''


    ''It doesn''t.''


    ''Sir Daniel''s is a Hurdland Knight.''


    ''Silly girl, not as smart as I thought.'' He smiled. ''Sir Daniels is a mercenary, and right now he is in the market for work.''


    ''You learn something new-''


    ''Every day, yes.'' Arthur moved on. ''This next one might be difficult, considering the current climate. It''s right up your alley though, I know you like a challenge. Poor Mokoe was proof of that.''


    ''You heard about that?''


    ''Did he really blow up a tavern, by accident?''


    Willow laughed. ''He... May have.''


    ''And you presented this man to Admiral James?''


    ''Mokoe may be prone to causing accidents, but he is also very capable when under pressure. He''ll do the Admiral proud.'' Willow gestured. ''Moving on. Who is this problematic candidate?''


    ''Yes.'' Arthur cleared his throat. ''This one they call Six Hands-''


    ''Someone I haven''t heard of.''


    ''Not many have, but his reputation is growing quite quickly. As far as I can gather, he is a wandering duellist who is known to be entirely undefeated in the north of Amaratsu.''


    ''A Duellist might not fit the bill, unless he''s a particularly good swordsman.''


    ''Not a Duellist.''


    ''You said Duellist.''


    Arthur scowled. ''I didn''t mean Duellist in the job sense, I meant duellist in the lifestyle sense. He travels around and duels powerful opponents, or so I''m led to believe.''


    ''What is he then?''


    The man laughed. ''He''s a Monk.''


    Willow was not amused. ''After what we''ve just spoken about, you give me a Monk?'' She waved her hand. ''No, I''ll pass on him.''


    ''You''ve already paid for this intelligence, don''t throw it away so easily. He''s particularly interesting.''


    ''How so?''


    ''He''s the first Monk I know of to take action against Amaratsu.''


    ''Seriously?'' Willow placed both hands on the counter, leaning in to listen closely.


    ''From what we know, he attacked a number of Amaratese Spear-men in Chira and then completely demolished one of their rising star Captains in single combat.''


    ''Nice.''


    ''He may well be the perfect candidate if he has for sure taken up arms against Amaratsu. And if his progression is to be sponsored, he could reach the level of Meditative Monk, able to boost the attributes of his allies more than twice over.''


    ''Wouldn''t this cause issues for Hurdland, taking one of Spirit Island''s Monks on board? It''s the same insult given to them by Amaratsu.''


    ''That''s not for me to say.''


    Fayyim... I can''t put her in a hard position. ''I''ll have to think about it.''


    The man shrugged. ''Your choice, but let me see if I can''t help you make it. Li Tsun and Sir Daniels are both at Floating City. There is a duel tournament due to start any day now. It will last the week and then they are likely to move on. Head there quickly to find them. The Monk? No one knows where he''s going. Some think he''s heading south now, others say he was seen boarding a boat to the west. I personally think he''s worth your time to search for, though it is a bother.''


    ''Yeah...'' What to do? ''I''ll likely head to Floating City, see if I can catch the other two before they depart, I won''t make the tournament on time.''


    ''It''s sold out anyway.''


    ''Just my luck.'' Willow took possession of the three scrolls that contained the player profiles and made to leave. ''I can''t wait around, work to do. Thanks-''


    ''Not so fast.'' Arthur motioned her back.


    ''What''s up?''


    The man looked at and under the counter, like he was missing something. He looked at Willow''s hands and then shrugged. ''Don''t worry about it, it''s fine, sorry.''


    ''Fine.'' Willow waved and then left the Broker''s Office. ''Take care, Arthur, see you around.''

 Chapter 34: Fayyim Tallhart

    The road to Kurktown was long, but the road to Garroway city would be even longer. Despite the Red Front''s discipline, Fayyim was worried her men would fall to boredom and trouble would start from it. Continually on the journey she had her army sing songs, tell stories, even play games, all to keep the boredom at bay. Not everyone could make the journey in one stretch, people had lives on the outside. So when a group had to log off, Fayyim left one or two NPC guides behind to help the players when they returned. These non-player-characters were simple Soldier''s from her ranks, paid for in advance at any Soldier Academy.


    It was a relief to see the mountain rise up before them on the horizon. Mt. Kurknein was the highest peak in Hurdland, a fantastic mix of blue and purple stone and pure white snow. On the lower slopes grew green pine with oak, and amongst the south-east slopes was the brown and grey of Kurktown. The horses were tired at this point, the troops also. One more day of riding was ahead of them, and then a resupply and some time to rest would be gratefully accepted.


    The Red Front set camp at dusk and slept, the next day they made their way to Kurktown and to their well deserved off-time. All except Fayyim, who had to deal with disgruntled Head Hunters looking to take up the position posted in her advert, and organise the resupply of her forces, and deal with town officials who wished to see and be seen with the new champion of Hurdland, and make a personal visit to the local stores. Fayyim was able to take an hour to sit, drink, eat and relax with her men after her duties, but then time was short and the day had gone and logging off to sleep was all that was left to do.


    The next day saw the long journey to Garroway begin anew, with a stop at the jewel of Hurdland, the Great Castle Kurknein. It was after days on the road, through forest and grassland, and over hills, that the castle rose up like another Mt. Kurknein, which itself was left to sink at their backs, though never completely out of sight, such was its height.


    The stones of the giant castle were the same blue-grey as Mt. Kurknein, the walls were higher than any city wall, towering above like sheer mountain cliffs. Fayyim knew that men were walking them far above, but too far for her to see. The blue stone stretched out for what seemed like miles around, a dark ring sitting on green land. Any trees that grew close to the wall were cut back to maintain a clearing for spotting enemies at the foot of the fort.


    The southern gates came into view. They looked like the rest of the visible construct, blue stone, but with gigantic black iron hinges holding them into the stone archway that was a third of the height of the walls, yet still so high up that only the birds could reach the top. Carved into the gates were dark images of demons and monsters falling to the swords and hammers of ancient warriors in long hooded robes. Above them was a single knight riding a winged horse, wearing a hooded tunic under armour.


    Wonderful. Fayyim was so often in the front lines of battle that she very seldom saw the gates of the Great Castle, but every time she did, the wonder and awe was renewed and she never once failed to go wide eyed and gasp. ''Shanks.''


    The brown haired man appeared at her side, his horse dipping its head and then shaking its mane. ''Commander?''


    ''Take a retinue and go ahead, inform the castle Commander of our arrival. Make sure to bare the banners and shout loud. I want those gates ready and open, our Red Front will not stand and wait.''


    ''Yes Ma¡¯am.'' Shanks quickly left her side and gave a high pitched whistle, getting the attention of soldiers in the main column.


    ''Captain.'' Fayyim called.


    Hawthorn was never far from Fayyim''s side, if he could help it. ''Yes Commander?''


    Fayyim ensured her red ribbon was secured tightly in her hair, that her armour was clean and tidy. ''Raise the banners and flags, I want the castle to truly know that we have arrived.'' She gave a half smile. ''The Order of the Silver Ram is stationed here, let them know that they are not the only ones who shine.''


    ''Rafael will bow before you, my queen!'' Hawthorn laughed.


    ''Now now.'' Fayyim replied. ''That comes later, today he sees an equal. At Garroway he will see a rival. After? We will see.''


    Hawthorn bowed his head and rode his horse away. ''Banners!'' He shouted. ''Banners!'' Other voices echoed his call and the colours of the Red Front were raised. A high trumpet was sounded and a drum played at an upbeat rhythm amongst the sound of hooves and clinking armour.


    Ahead, the gates cracked with light down the centre, then the entrance was opened and the castle was ready for them. The Red Front approached while many horsemen came from inside the walls and closed the gap. Shanks and his retinue were amongst them, a number of Knights were ahead, and with them were six important looking men.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ''Captain!'' Fayyim called. ''Who do you see there?''


    Hawthorn was at her side, squinting. ''I see Rafael. I''d know that silver armour anywhere. And then... I''m not sure, I can only just make them out, their banners too.''


    Fayyim waited a minute, until those in her vision were closer. ''I see the Silver Ram, so yes, Rafael. Then a black circle on red. I don''t know that banner. A golden spear on black. That''s Demshir. A blue wolf on white, I don''t know that either. I don''t recognise the next either, I think a white stag on blue?''


    ''Looks like it.'' Hawthorn replied.


    ''And the last is... A silver mirror on blue. Mirrormind? A bloody politician.'' Fayyim sighed. ''Let''s go greet them, Captain.''


    ''Yes Commander.'' Hawthorn called back behind him. ''Lupin, keep the men in check, we''re going ahead.''


    The two galloped ahead as a ¡°Yes Sir¡± was given by Lupin. Their horses headed for the gates, slowing to allow the welcoming party to round them and move to their side. Rafael gave a nod to Fayyim, the dark brown skin of his face dotted with tiny scars. His piercing green eyes were friendly, but as Fayyim always noticed, they had power to them. He wore armour so polished it had a mirror finish. A spiked mace hung at his side, and a kite shield as reflective as his armour hung over his back. Etched in to it was the image of a great woolly ram impaling a wolf on its long curled horns. Sheathed under his shield was a double handed great sword, long and broad and heavy.


    Field Marshal Jonathan Demshir was in light armour, blue grey mixed with gold. He was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair cut short, his skin was tanned and his eyes were dark grey. He smiled and bowed. ''Commander Fayyim, your Red Front looks a sight indeed.''


    ''Thank you Field Marshal.'' Fayyim bowed, she held back the proud smile that fought to cross her face. ''And thank you for coming out to greet us.''


    ''I would have preferred to stay inside, but you warriors do have your codes.'' Mirrormind interjected. He was a tall, slim man in a dark blue tunic trimmed with black. His long black hair was brushed back and shone in the light of the sun.


    Fayyim ignored him as they trotted through the gates of the castle. The high arch opened up to a dense ring of woodland. ''Forgive my ignorance, I am acquainted with Commander Rafael and Mirrormind, Field Marshal, but not the remainder of your company.


    ''Ah, indeed. Allow me to introduce you.'' The Field Marshal gestured to the other two who rode with him. ''Riding under the black sun is Commander Funder of Dark Heat.''


    The man was short and muscular, he had sunburnt skin and a square jaw, his hair was cut short and the colour was so light that Fayyim did not know if it was grey, white or blond. He was a Knight in black enamelled armour. ''It''s finally nice to meet you, Fayyim of the Red Front.'' He smiled and bowed his head.


    ''And you, comrade.'' Fayyim returned the gesture.


    ''And this is Commander Alexander, who rides beneath the blue wolf.'' Demshir continued.


    The man was silent, but bowed politely enough. He was a Knight that wore sky blue armour trimmed with white. He was young and handsome, but a gruesome scar dashed the side of his head over his ear.


    ''Well met!'' Fayyim bowed, then she gestured to Hawthorn. ''This is my second in command, Captain Hawthorn.'' Hawthorn bowed, Fayyim continued. ''I hope we can be of service before we take the road north to Garroway.''


    ''Commander.'' Demshir interjected. ''We all will be joining you on your journey. We and many and more will be standing witness to your award ceremony in the capital.''


    Interesting. ''Field Marshal, please forgive my suspicions. Am I to assume that this increase in audience is not all that it seems?''


    Demshir smiled. ''You certainly live up to your reputation, Fayyim Tallhart. You are quite intuitive.''


    ''I am a Psychic, after all.'' Replied Fayyim, almost playfully.


    ''So it seems.'' Demshir laughed, but countered. ''If you really want to know what is coming next, read my mind. What am I thinking?''


    Demshir was playful, yet behind the smile was the same attitude Fayyim saw in others. He did not like to be one-upped by this woman; hence testing her ability as a psychic, despite the impossibility of ever reading his thoughts; completely breaking the element of role-play, though so very subtly. You will pose a challenge. Thought Fayyim. But I know the rhythm of it all, the pushes into Amaratsu, the defeats, the wins. The world is truly at war now, the armies are marshalling and that can only mean one thing. ''War council.''


    Field Marshall Demshir nodded and smiled, but his eyes showed defeat in the form of annoyance. Fayyim was playing amongst the bigger kids, and the big kids were rough. Caution was required as allies could be the greatest enemy when you wish to reach the top of the climbing frame, to stand above the rest. Fayyim knew this, but still she felt no fear. Instead, she smiled in victory.

 Chapter 35: Dolon Elias

    Making a bet? I should have done that. He was quickly drawn out of the thought when to his right he heard his name called.


    The other Winged Men are here? I hope Niall doesn''t run into them. ''Maybe we can catch up later then.'' Dolon suggested.


    ''Friends!'' The man called out. ''Today we see the return of the world''s greatest, the world''s most famous, the world''s finest fighting tournament!'' The crowd erupted in cheer again, but the man allowed it to go on until it naturally died away. ''We are happy to be staging this event at the Floating City of Churash, whose government have so graciously acted as sponsor for the event. Give them a cheer!'' The crowd cheered, though not as loudly as they had previously. Those who appeared to be of Hurdland origin were silent or jeering. The host continued. ''You''ve seen the brackets, you know the fighters. Let''s not dilly-dally any longer. It''s time for what you came for!'' The crowd cheered in unison again, the man shouted over them, proving his voice to be quite loud. He introduced the fighters by name, the brackets they would sit in, and the times for their matches. The crowd cheered or hissed at the names they found favourable or otherwise.


    Then came a five minute break before the first match. A drumming band played from the stage while the crowd waited impatiently for the true start of the events.


    When the announcer appeared once again, it was with two of the day''s combatants walking to the ring from opposite sides. ''First into the ring, on home ground, certainly not new to the tournament, but with a new name: Winslow The Lightning Fisher!''


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    The Lightning Fisher, is a new face to the tournament, a Monk from Spirit Island, an unknown, but a strong looking chap for sure! No special names here folks, just refer to this man as simply... Cadaoir!''


    When will he attack back? Perhaps the Monk was waiting for the right moment. Fighting against an armed man would surely be a hard thing to do, it was surprising that the Monk had not fallen to the Soldier already. He had never seen such a good display of skill in this manner, but he had heard of the power of the Monks. He had heard about their feats of speed and strength, of their ability to conjure up a powerful energy that could rival even the fire of a Flame Pitcher. This would be a revealing fight, Dolon hoped to see that power.


    What was that?


    What the hell is this? Electric fingers crept up the blade and began to reach out to the ring and the air, the sword became a conduit for electrical power and with a deafening crack it unleashed forks of lightning at the Monk. What the hell is this? A blinding flash dazed Dolon and his hearing was only of bells. What was that? He had never seen a weapon display such magical power. When his senses returned, he rubbed his eyes and ears, as did the other spectators.


    What would Tanda say? ''I don''t know.''


    That man does not know the danger he is in.

 Chapter 36: Ragen Mohon

    I''ll be busy for a while, do what you can without me. See you soon.


    -Butler


    But why should I be? His sister ignored him as much as he did her. It''s not entirely his fault, everything that has happened, how both siblings had acted towards each other. People just don''t understand. I''m better off not telling them anything about me, or her... Bloody stupid Butler!


    If I''m going to find out anything about her, I''m going to have to do it alone. He kicked a stone. That''s not right... I have no idea how to do it alone. Butler doesn''t like me any more, he''s no good to me now. I need to find someone who knows her. But it''s a big game. Too many people, too much ground to cover. If I knew what nation she was a part of, maybe then I''d have a chance to find her, but even that would be time consuming, never mind searching all three countries. He kicked the stone again. Bloody hell! Bloody Butler!


    Maybe if I meet new people, join a band or army, make a name for myself. Maybe then I''ll find the people who can help me. Ragen threw his arms into the air. ''Who am I kidding? I won''t make it anywhere fighting the way I do.'' He shook his head and kicked the stone farther down the street. The small chipped rock bounced from the shadow of a building into a ray of light shining out through an adjoining alleyway. The sun was rising in the sky, the chill air falling to its morning warmth. I''m going to have a hard time of it, no matter how I try. Maybe I''ll never find out about her... Lauren. Broadway.


    I''m not an NPC. He thought, and it was as if she could read his mind.


    Like I know anyone to tell. ''Sure.''


    The woman exited out of the yard and left Ragen with the damaged dummy. What a pain. He kicked splinters of wood out of his way, sand too, and proceeded to hack at the next hanging target on the gallows. His technique paled in comparison to the player he had just encountered. She''s had a lot more practise than I have.


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    She''s reminds me of Butler. I can''t trust a person like that. ''I...'' He hesitated. What do I say? For some reason he could not lie to her after all. ''I am a kid.''


    Second? ''Who else asked you?'' He ignored her question.


    His name? It''s a man. ''That''s fine, thank you, for everything.''


    Butler..! He smiled a wide smile. It was then that he saw a shadow move quickly past him. When he looked for the source, he could have sworn that he saw a person high in the sky, but it faded out of sight far too quick. The woman had vanished too.

 Chapter 37: Cadaoir

    She would yield if it weren''t for the eyes of her enemy. She will show no weakness. Cadaoir knew what would come next.


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    The Lightning... Cadaoir!'' The announcer smiled and gestured to Cadaoir who stepped onto the floating ring. The crowd clapped and cheered more readily for him this time around.


    This Deluge has a sharp grin and savage eyes. Cadaoir had seen the look a thousand times. This man was likely a brutal fighter.


    Stop talking, fight.


    Second duel? Cadaoir was slow to recall those he deemed unworthy. ''We have never duelled.''


    Dashing away from the blade, Cadaoir gave himself space to stay safe. Deluge lunged forward, but his attacks appeared lazy. He''s dazed. The knife was dangerous, but the man behind it not so much. The Monk moved forward and baited an attack from Deluge, who slashed weakly. Cadaoir stepped inside Deluge''s swinging arm and wrapped his own around the limb, locking it tightly and restricting all movement. With his free hand, the Monk struck Deluge in the face, the neck, the throat and the chest multiple times. His speed and power were as much as he could muster, and as affective as could be desired.

 Chapter 38: Dolon Elias

    A man like you doesn''t deserve this kind of power.


    Besides tailing the Captain and letting me know when and where to retrieve the sword. Pretty much most of the work if you ask me.''


    What''s he up to? Dolon was concerned about Stacey''s motive to lie, but whatever the reason, it pleased Niall.


    Dolon and Stacey went silent, knowing better than to even apologise. Crap. Dolon took his eye away from Niall and sat still on his bunk. The other members spoke amongst themselves. Why am I even still here? The meeting is over. Dolon stood up and headed for the door. ''I''m out of here for a while, I''ll catch you all later.'' Before anyone could respond, the door was opened and Dolon made to step through.


    ''Kit?'' What''s this then? Dolon stood stern.


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    Queen? Dolon was confused. The Queen is here?


    above physical attractiveness, unafraid to mark her own body. Incredible.


    If you say that it''s yours, you''ll be in trouble. She wants it for Churash. ''It''s a prize that we won for the country.'' Dolon may not have liked Niall, but he required the Harlequins to remain in good standing with Churash, it was a part of his job. ''Niall knew of an enemy with the weapon and he deployed us to retrieve it.''


    ''You have done your country proud, you have done me proud, and you will be rewarded.'' Tanda handed the sword to Kit. ''A ship is waiting for you in the west docks, it will take you to Churash where you will then travel to the capital. Your next mission will be given there, when I return after.''


    Lucas, their Winged Men. We should be trusted with the vault, we should be trusted with the quests for the weapons, we should be standing at Tanda''s side, not those god damned Winged Men!''


    If you could only see yourself from everyone else¡¯s eyes, Niall. You''re too angry, too unpredictable. Despite your power, despite the Harlequin''s ability, you''re just not trustworthy enough to stand with Royalty. Dolon wished he could say it, wished he could take Niall by the ears and shake reason into him. Instead he remained silent and watched.


    ''For months we''ve put up with this. My Harlequins, down in the mud, crawling where Shiro and Tanda would not even walk. How many enemy commanders have we killed? How many castles have we sabotaged? How many plans have we stolen and delivered to our great leaders?'' Niall licked his lips. ''The power we deserve will never be rewarded to us. Not while we work for these ungrateful fools!''

 Chapter 39: Ragen Mohon

    you die.'' Ragen smiled.


    them against the wall.''


    It is a little annoying, I want to see more of this world, but...''


    Thank you. ''See you later!'' He said as he ran to the academy exit and into Holta on Trine.


    Jumpers! He was all smiles. They must be Jumpers! The smile soon left his face. If only I''d chosen that Job Class. Looking to the ground, Ragen swept up a piece of paper and read the text that was inked across it. A ceremony at the capital? The Red Front? He had heard the name, who hadn''t at this point? But Ragen did not care much, he dropped the paper to the ground and moved on. The tavern where Butler would be waiting was close.


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    The Lonely Mutt. The youngster looked through the windows, candle and fire light bled out, and people of all kinds sat at round tables with drinks at hand. Butler was standing at a table full of lightly armoured men, while the tables around them seemed charged and tense.


    Lauren? ''What about her?''


    Thank God... ''How can he help?''


    What does this have to do with me? Ragen was perplexed. He backed away from the table, feeling that something was amiss.


    This isn''t what Butler said it''d be. ''Sorry.'' Ragen replied in low tones. ''I''m not interested, if you can''t help me then I''m just going to leave.''


    you want power, not change, just for you to be in charge. I don''t want to help you, and I don''t want your help any more.''


    ''What''re you doing?'' Ragen squeaked. What''s going on?


    Why are they doing this? The hands pulled and pushed against Ragen, he could not escape their strength. It''s just a game, why are they doing this to me? They''ve taken everything. Tears filled his eyes and he wailed like the child that he was. It was a noise that they all recognised, and it startled them. The assault calmed and Ragen was left face down on the hard wood floor, his tears pooling under his face. His sobs were muffled against wood. Crying was the only reaction he had.


    Butler... Ragen pushed himself from the ground, but a heavy foot pushed him back down. An argument ensued inside the tavern, some attempted to aid the boy, others played into the scene. That was the game after all. Ragen lost all thought of logging out. He was angry at Butler now, for putting him in this situation. ''How can you do this?'' Ragen cried. ''Why would you?'' He felt his face flush red hot. ''It''s just a stupid game! It''s not real! Why would you do this?'' Tears welled in his eyes again. The role-play was clearly broken and the players backed away. The confusion between reality and this convincingly realistic game was brought to light, the abuse was real to Ragen, and the realisation that a child was handled badly by their own hands disturbed the mob around him.


    Ragen sobbed violently. His skinny body convulsed and dripped with tears. When he made eye contact with Butler, his heart felt like it had popped and the pain was such that the game could not suppress it. He ran from the tavern on bare feet, out into the streets and to somewhere far away.

 Chapter 40: Willow

    Sunlight beamed over the decks of the large sea ferry. Willow sat up against the main mast as sailors, waiters and travellers went about their business, either sweeping decks, hoisting ropes, patrolling drinks and snacks around, or talking loudly over the waves and wind.


    The Head Hunter would reach The Floating City a day after the Duel Tournament ends, there were no faster ways of making it before. Still, even after the end of the competition, the duellists should remain in the city for the celebrations and parties that often followed the main event. Willow would still be able to track and recruit her desired target, though she had not yet chosen who that would be. She had not even read over the information broker''s scrolls, choosing to take a more relaxed attitude while travelling. She had spent more time ensuring that her horse would be well housed while she was away. Now was as good a time as ever to start reading, she thought.


    Reaching into a satchel, Willow retrieved the intelligence she had bought and proceeded to finger through the many sheets of crinkled paper. So who''s our first candidate? She singled out one of the pages randomly and read.


    ¡°Captain Deluge. Male. Spear-man of the Hattsu Academy.¡± They''re usually decent. Looks like he specialises in coastal defence and small troop command, and his single combat record is impressive, he''s defeated over 30 challengers at the Hattsu Academy. Deluge, can you do what Fay wants? Willow scanned over the document quickly, sucking air through her teeth unconsciously. Here we go. ¡°Tackled fifteen coastal raiders when his troop was ambushed in the Greenlands. Was brought down by bow and arrow after defeating eight raiders.¡± He''s more impressive than the average Soldier, but I''m not seeing the draw on this one. Willow quickly read through the remainder of the profile and was surprised at the end. What''s this? ¡°Defeated deftly by Six Hands at the Hattsu Adademy.¡±


    Six Hands? I''m sure he''s in here somewhere. Willow put away the previous profile and flicked through the rest, recovering a particular page. ¡°Six Hands. Male. Monk of the Spirit Temple.¡± This time she tried to read without skipping over the details. ¡°Practised as a Spiritualist under the guidance of The Spirit Temple. Before advancing to Monk Job Class, proved himself in several unarmed duels within the Temple, victorious over all. After advancement to Monk Job Class, was challenged by the ace student Philip, yet the match was halted due to internal Temple politics.


    ¡°Began his Warrior''s Pilgrimage with the greatest success and continues to do so today. Six Hands'' most notable battles include duels against three Fire Breather sisters, Anoch, Hildae and Faeya, in which he was victorious; the Knight Sir Marko Smalls, in which he was victorious; the Rifleman John Highbone, in which he was victorious; the Fire Dancer Captain Santanda, in which he was victorious; the Diamond Dancer Yurash, in which he was victorious; the Swordsman Daichi, in which he was victorious; the Monk Hollow Heart, in which he was victorious; the Spear-man Captain Deluge, in which he was victorious, the Spear-man Captain Kainda, in which he was victorious.¡±


    This guy is very-very impressive. She read on. ¡°It is noted that all duels won by Six Hands have been without the use of weapons, armour or Monk abilities.¡± Incredible... But there''s nothing here about him on the battlefield. Willow knew that expert duelling did not necessarily transfer to battlefield effectiveness, she moved on and randomly picked out another profile.


    ¡°Li Tsun. Male. Striker. Trained as a Scrapper and then Grappler at the Fighting Pits in Hurdland. Chose to travel from west to east in order to challenge the fire users of the Fire Pits. Won several high profile duels against Hurdland champions, including the Knight Bronze John, in which he was victorious; the Knight Sir Ackerman, in which he was victorious; the Bowman Ferris Glover, in which he was victorious, and the Wrestler Little Boppa, in which he was victorious.


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    ¡°Li Tsun''s reputation allowed his entry into the Fire Pits where he was granted the opportunity to train and gain experience duelling students of the school. As his first duel at the Pits, Li Tsun battled the Amaratese Commander, Princess Ashara, and lost decisively. Apparently this defeat spurred Li Tsun on, his training increased and his duels at the Fire Pits were all victorious on his part. These duels included opponents such as the Fire Dancer Che Hamara, the Fire Dancer Su Lin, the Flame Pitcher Banu Azar and the Fire Dancer Georgio Lange.¡±


    Nothing about his ability to tackle troops on the field. Another dead end for me. Willow took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a moment to rest them. It was the sound of clinking mugs that brought her out of a shallow doze. Her eyes widened and she yawned. I should probably log, get some sleep. Willow stretched her arms and spine, the paper she was holding caught the breeze and several sheets slipped from her fingers, gliding over the deck. Willow was quick to follow, gathering up what she had dropped. A handy NPC waiter picked up a fleeing page and pushed the piece into her hands before walking away to complete his errands.


    That was close. Willow crawled back to where she had been sitting and fought off the urge to yawn and stretch a second time. She flicked through the profiles, ensuring they were all safely retrieved. When she came across Six Hands'' profile, she noticed that one of the top corners was damaged, the paper was peeling. Without much concern, Willow flicked the corner before looking for the next profile to read. The corner proceeded to fall away more, revealing text. She looked much closer and pulled away the new layer behind the other. The damage was not damage at all, it was another profile page, one not discussed by the Broker. The page had become stuck to Six Hands''.


    Willow pulled it free, pressed it against her knee and rubbed away the wrinkles. She read. ¡°Jerry. Male. Swordsman. Trained as a Soldier in the Livapool Academy. Went to war for Churash but defected after meeting the Knight Cairo, who would later win the seat of Supreme Leader of Hurdland. Jerry then battled Churashi raiders and trained in the Garroway City Academy until reaching the Swordsman Job Class. Jerry was one of the leading fighters behind Cairo''s coup d''¨¦tat against the old government of Hurdland. A destructive battle in the capital, Garroway City, ended with Jerry and Cairo facing the old guard of Garroway''s palace. The two gained victory against thirty guards comprised of Knights, Swordsmen and Riflemen.¡±


    This is more like it! Willow was enthralled. But why haven''t I heard of this guy before? ¡°After the rise of Cairo, Jerry took his leave of the Capital and was not seen until a year later fighting in the world Duel Tournament. It was in this single event that Jerry defeated every foe until yielding in the semi final match to Li Tsun. Jerry''s motives for bowing out have not yet been discovered.


    ¡°There have been several accounts of Jerry''s exploits between his disappearance from Hurdland and his re-emergence. It is said he has defeated several players of high level and elite Job Class. One account suggests that Jerry has defeated the only known Cloud Diver in single combat, though this is unconfirmed. It is noted that Jerry is yet to advance to any advanced Job Class on the Swordsman progression, despite his play time and overall experience that no doubt has given him the ability to do so.¡±


    This is incredible. Slack jawed, Willow read the last remaining passage. ¡°In our estimation, Jerry is classed as an elite player, as powerful as those most revered in the world.¡±


    I''ve found my man. Only... Willow had her doubts. He already has a history with Hurdland, he left for a reason. Would he rejoin? I don''t know, but I have to try... Her lips parted and she whispered. ''As powerful as those most revered in the world.''

 Chapter 41: Cadaoir

    Duellist was becoming sapped of his stamina quicker than Cadaoir, and his failed attacks against the Monk had worried his confidence. The Duellist''s attacks were now deployed without surety, Auryon not knowing whether they would hit or miss.


    After yielding, you should still have pride enough to stand on your own. Cadaoir sighed, kicked Auryon''s hand away, then left him there. He turned his back and left the ring. The Announcer was still doing his job as the Monk entered the stands to find his seat.


    That was harder than I''d have thought. Auryon the swordsman had put up a hard fight. Cadaoir was already reliving the duel, analysing the techniques, studying the feints and the timing of each chained attack from Auryon. Although he had lost the match, this other man was talented, and from what he had seen, the old man Jerry was even better. Auryon''s fault gave Cadaoir the edge, it gave him a weapon, but he did not take Jerry as the type to make that mistake. Cadaoir had studied each match, he had seen and learned from every win and loss of the other duellists. He had discovered Jerry''s flawlessness.


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    Perhaps...


    This man is something else. Cadaoir, for the first time, felt doubt.


    Jerry''s eyes locked to Cadaoir''s, and Cadaoir''s to Jerry''s. Cadaoir felt his body''s instinct to attack, but he hesitated in his mind. If I attack, he will counter and win. There is no doubt in my mind. Go left? Attempt to close the distance and attack his sword arm? He can quickly manoeuvre away and draw on me. Go right? Try and take control of his weapon before he can draw? He''s quick enough to draw his dagger instead, or lead me into some trap. If I try to attack him head on, I¡¯ll be cut to ribbons. Cadaoir was struggling to find a way to win. The ring''s been cleared of the debris, so I can''t use that again. If I give him the initiative, I won''t be able to escape him, he easily cornered Wolf... His thoughts passed in under a second, but for Cadaoir it felt like hours of deliberation.


    Do not think. Thought is the absence of intuition and the presence of uncertainty.


    I''ve lost. This was Cadaoir''s one thought before the slither of silver appeared in his vision. Jerry had advanced with unmatched speed and his aim was to take Cadaoir''s head. No... Cadaoir could only raise a hand in defence.


    You weak fool. Cadaoir thought to himself as the Monk''s true class ability showed itself. A faint white glow was projected from his hand, his spirit given form as a protective barrier. The sword blade was stopped merely an inch away from his flesh, but it still fought to find blood. Weak! Then the power of the cut overtook him. I''m weak! There was a loud pop in his ears and then all he could hear were bells. The ring became distant to him, he saw the sky spinning to his right and the ground tumbling to his left. Then the world went white and then black.

 Chapter 42: Dolon Elias

    Odd. ''How come?''


    You''re holding back on purpose. OK, I won''t push you. ''I haven''t been back to the island for a while. Is there anything new? Anything interesting happening?''


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    By my bed? ''What was it?''


    ''Sword?'' The sword Niall gave me. ''What about it?''


    This woman... I suppose I don''t really need it, but Niall did give it to me. ''I don''t know...'' It was a prize, a gift even. I can''t just give it away... ''I''ll tell you what: if I give you the sword, you tell me what the problem is... and give me twenty gold on top.''


    Just like that? She really wants that sword. ''I''ll go get it for you, it''s below deck.''


    She really likes you, why? He looked at the hilt, it was leather bound and long. The guard, as short and useless in combat as it was, was a dirty bronze, inscribed with intricate swirling patterns. The pommel too was bronze, a small, flat and round ornament, inscribed on the underside with similar patterns to the guard. ''It does look nice.'' I should have looked at it properly much earlier on.


    Beautiful.


    Niall seemed impressed by it, but he wouldn''t part with anything special. ''I suppose I can give it away, I have no need for it.'' Dolon leant his elbow on one of the wooden steps behind him, using it to support himself. Quickly it creaked and then split and cracked. He panicked and came away from the wood. Better not step on that when I head back up. The thing''s as weak as cardboard. He quickly sheathed the blade and headed upstairs, skipping over the cracked step.


    Wonderful... ''Only if you don''t mind me giving you the sword then too.''


    Weapons are just weapons. Some are better than others, but it''s the skill of the warrior who makes them work. ''I don''t get it.''


    Don''t you look down on me. Dolon pouted. ''Anyway, you owe me a story.''

 Chapter 43: Fayyim Tallhart

    Dark Heat company, the Order of the Silver Ram and the Blue Wolves. Fayyim was unsure of who was truly a friend and who was a foe. People talked and smiled with her, of course, but these were all empty pleasantries, as she knew that many were threatened by her advancements. It had been the same way throughout her career. Whether it was reaching the elite job of Accessor, creating the Red Front and building it with more ease and success than any other Hurdland army, or now gaining the highest rank behind Field Marshal or Admiral of the Fleet, people always took umbrage.


    our woods.'' Fayyim took another gulp of her wine. ''Listen, it''s obvious that Thorn has our Supreme Leader''s ear, but I can''t see Cairo allowing him to re-station important border forces without good reason. No one down south knows the details, but you''ve been stationed at the city for some time. You must know something.''


    donations to them also.''


    Damn it! ''Is Cairo really that in need of Thorn''s money that he can''t quash this idiotic strategy?'' Fayyim wiped her lips.


    ''I can''t believe that they''d still allow it.'' There has to be something else.


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    This is a risk, but he will be mine.


    I was not expecting this. ''I must admit, you have me up against the ropes. Let me ask, what about you? You speak of good men, do you include yourself?''


    the old man is the one who placed him there.''


    You know I''m stumped. He must have read her mind, because he nodded gleefully. ''I want...'' She dug deep. ''I want to win the war.''


    the Information Broker. I wanted to know why corruption in the capital was spreading. Using Thorn''s money was the only way I could afford it.'' Alexander stared into Fayyim''s eyes with intensity. ''Do you want to know what I learned?''


    I... She did not know what was right or wrong here, yet... ''I will.''

 Chapter 44: Dolon Elias

    ''You''ve given the sword away.'' Niall near whispered as Dolon descended the steps into the ship''s hold. ''I saw Kartwright with it.''


    Dolon stepped off the stairs and squinted his eyes, trying to see in the dim light. ''Niall? Hear me out.''


    ''I gave that to you. It was a gift, a reward.''


    ''Niall.'' Oh man! ''Hear me out, I did it for the Harlequins. For you!''


    ''I was coming to really like you, Dolon.'' Niall emerged from the shadows, his dark eyes reflecting what little light came from above decks. ''I''m disappointed.''


    Dolon had to be firm, he could not show any fear or hesitation. ''Listen to me, it''s about the Winged Men.'' Niall continued to walk towards Dolon. The Sniper''s eyes were adjusting to the low light, he could make out the shapes of the other Harlequins in the shadows. ''Lucas and Broadway are gone, they''ve been missing for months!'' Dolon took a risk, he stepped toward Niall and then stood his ground. ''They''ve abandoned Churash!''


    Niall paused. ''What?''


    ''I swapped the sword so that Kartwright would tell me.'' Calm down, please. ''The Winged Men don''t have their leaders any more.'' This will put a smile on your face. ''You can take their position now, you can-''


    ''Where did Lucas go?'' Niall spoke in shock.


    ''I don''t know.'' Dolon spoke, but Niall did not hear him.


    ''This isn''t like him, he wouldn''t just leave. And Broadway too?'' Niall was lost in thought.


    ''Does it matter, you can dispose of the Winged M-''


    ''I know that!'' Niall shouted.


    Dolon shuddered. Stacey came out of the dark and placed a hand on Niall''s shoulder, an odd gesture. Something Dolon had never seen before. Niall shook Stacey off. ''Don''t touch me!''


    ''Niall...'' Stacey was sullen.


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    ''I need to think about this.'' Niall said, then his body flashed and fell to glitter, he was gone. Logged out.


    ''What the hell was that?'' Dolon asked. Stacey collapsed onto a crate. Gerome and Archer stepped from the shadows.


    ''I want to know too.'' Gerome showed an unusual concern.


    ''Just forget it!'' Stacey found his feet and stormed upstairs.


    ''What''s got him riled up? Why is Lucas going missing such a bad thing? We should be drinking to that one.'' Gerome put his hand to his mouth, as if gulping from a cup..


    Archer shrugged his shoulders, nonplussed. Dolon followed Stacey to the upper deck. He found the masked man leaning over the side of the boat, staring into the blue. Kartwright was at the fore, watching ahead. Dolon stepped to Stacey''s side and leant on the rail with him. ''Are you OK?''


    ''No.'' Stacey hung his head low.


    ''What''s going on? What''s with Niall? I thought he hated Lucas and the Winged Men.''


    ''I told you guys to forget about it.'' Stacey wiped his eyes.


    Is he crying? ''Stacey, I''m concerned. Let me know what''s going on, maybe I can help.''


    ''Don''t bother!''


    ''I am bothered!'' Dolon slapped the wooden rail. ''Niall was freaked out down there. I''ve never seen anything like that happen.'' Silence. Stacey continued to watch the water. Dolon gave him time, holding his tongue for a moment.


    ''I trained as a Druid with Niall and Lucas, we were friends back at the Forest Temple. I won''t go into detail, but we ended up parting ways on not so great terms. Some time later, me and Niall found ourselves at Churash and Lucas was there also, with Broadway.'' Stacey sighed. ''I still consider Lucas my friend, and a rival. The Winged Men and the Harlequins have always competed, I think because Niall deep down still wanted to feel connected to our friend... But Lucas was always a step ahead of us. He gained the favour of the royals, had his pick of rewards and recruits. I can''t see why he would just up and run, it''s not like him.''


    Dolon frowned. ''Broadway was pretty dedicated to the cause too. If both of them have gone missing, it must mean something big has happened. They might have defected.''


    ''Lucas...'' Stacey wiped his eyes again. ''It''s not like him. I think for myself, maybe Niall too, after everything that''s happened, we''ve finally seen an end to our friendship with Lucas. We really don''t know him any more. It''s sad...''


    ''It is.'' Dolon agreed. He thought about how many friendships were lost to him, all due to his disconnect from people through working for the Information Broker. How relationships were just a means to an end. They never lasted past their usefulness. He found it sad too, yet played the part all the same. He put his arm around Stacey''s shoulder. ''Remember, you still have friends here.''


    Stacey looked up at Dolon, a tear in his eye. ''Yeah.'' He smiled. ''I do.''

 Chapter 45: Willow

    ''No doubt, young lady. He lost by breaking the rules. He launched the Monk into the crowd and injured quite a few, and damaged the stadium. That loses him the match, we gave the win to the Monk.''


    Willow pulled on the strap of the quiver over her shoulder. ''I see.'' She looked around at the damage. How can an explosion be caused by two men? The stadium stood strong, the damage was not too great. But one side of the arena was marked by a small crater, as if a rock had fallen from the sky and struck the seating at the side of the ring. ''So you have no idea where Jerry could have gone?''


    Sweetheart? ''I''m looking for Wolf.''


    Is this guy for real? ''Thanks, but I''m not interested.'' Willow walked away while some jibe came from the man. She came across a female Soldier. ''Excuse me, miss?''


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    ''Who knows?'' Willow bowed with a playful smile, then walked away quickly. The theatrics usually worked to motivate people, but had its drawbacks. I should have asked where that pub was.


    This is all I need. Willow stood from her seat and raised her hands in a gesture of submission. ''Don''t get the wrong idea, I''m not here to recruit anyone from Hurdland. I''m only looking for some information that the good Captain may have.''


    Thank you. Willow was relieved. She pulled a seat out at her table and gestured for Wolf to sit. The Hurdland Captain spun the seat around and sat on it backwards, leaning on the back of the chair. ''What''s your deal, head hunter?''


    ''What''s your deal, head hunter.'' Wolf sniffed.


    Hmm. Willow openly ignored the threat. ''I''ll tell you what, you have nothing to worry about, I''m working for Hurdland on this job. Truthfully, scout''s honour.'' Willow saluted.


    ''I will find him.'' Willow stated. ''With or without you.'' This made the Wrestler pause. ''If you''re in contact with him, it can be on your terms, his terms, not mine. Set up a meeting for me.''


    Can these people never respond to diplomacy? ''I''d love a fight, Wolf, but in this matter we''re allies. If you kill me, I''ll only come back again. So why not just introduce me to Jerry? Please? With you as the facilitator, no harm can be done. Trust me, this can only benefit him.''

 Chapter 46: Fayyim Tallhart

    This has to be Nicholas Demshir, Admiral of the Fleet. Fayyim had never met the man. He looks a shrewd one. She noticed the elegant looking sword at his side, a basket hilted rapier.


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    to do what was best for us.'' Rafael was silent, but there was some reaction in his eyes that she could not quite decipher. Fayyim sighed. ''That aside, Ashara was never capable of respawning.''


    mean.'' Fayyim adjusted her red ribbon. ''I did not kill Ashara. I imprisoned her.'' She walked ahead. Chew on that.


    That''ll annoy the Amaratese diplomats in the crowd. Fayyim heard the clinking of Cairo''s armour, and then the noise died down. ''Rise.'' Cairo began. ''Commander Fayyim Tallhart, leader of the cherished Red Front, Breaker of Sieges, Defender of the Land and Hero of the South!''

 Chapter 47: Willow

    The Stadium had not seen much repair, the rubble had been cleared away, but the crater in the seating area was yet to be patched up. Wolf and a number of those under her command took their seats on the upper most benches around the arena, out of ear shot but watching carefully. Willow waited on the floating platform at the centre. Jerry was expected soon.


    Willow was constantly aware of the eyes that were on her. As a head hunter, she was seen in constant suspicion, as the job required secrecy, and the secrecy caused others to suspect head hunters of recruiting for the enemy. Willow was used to it, but this was the first time she had been completely surrounded by willing aggressors; Soldier''s fingering their swords and bows, and the giant Wolf guiding them behind cold eyes.


    The gulls cried from the grey sky above, they circled the stadium, riding the wind. The clouds moved overhead with speed, yet the arena walls worked as a break against the gusts. Salt was on the air, salt water was under foot. Willow inhaled and absorbed the scents, sounds and sights around her, she immersed herself in the environment. Anything to kill the nervousness in her stomach.


    ''How long is he going to be?'' Willow called up to Wolf.


    The large woman shrugged. ''I don''t know, he should be here soon.''


    Not very punctual for such a revered man. Willow was becoming ever more agitated. The environment was increasingly unsettling the more she looked. The damage was created by a single Swordsman, demonstrating power that his Job Class should not allow.


    The Hurdland Soldiers seemed ready to jump into the ring at any moment. They were expecting Willow to make some kind of wrong move. She was surrounded by dangerous people, expecting to meet with the most deadly of them all.


    ''Hello.''


    Willow spun around as soon as she heard the voice. A man in brown cotton clothing and a brown leather coat was stood on the floating platform with her. A brown pointed hat that flopped to one side shadowed his eyes. Just before her reply, Willow realised she had neither felt nor heard the man enter the ring. ''Jerry?''


    ''Yes.'' He smiled.


    This put Willow at ease, as his smile was warm and inviting. ''My name is Willow, I am a head hunter hired by Fayyim Tallhart, the Commander of the Red Front, an army of Hurdland.''


    ''Allow me to stop you there.'' Jerry raised a finger to his lip, hushing Willow. ''I can tell you right now, I am not available for hire.''


    ''Please, allow me to explain.'' Willow tried. ''Commander Tallhart is a very capable leader, you will find that-''


    ''The Commander has nothing to offer me.''


    Tough gig. ''How can you say that if I haven''t explained the terms?''


    ''You''re a head hunter, you would not have found me without prior knowledge of who I am, of my history. Am I correct?''


    It was in that moment that Willow took note of the longsword at the man''s side. She swallowed hard and answered truthfully. ''Yeah, you are.''


    ''I''ve had my time, I''ve done everything I''ve needed to do in this world. Now I just want to float around and enjoy the little things. Wolf understands, can you?''


    ''Yes.'' I''ve lost him.


    ''Good.'' Jerry made to leave, but something caused him to stop. ''Let me ask, why have you come to me on behalf of some army I''ve never heard of? I''d expect greater men to desire my aid.''


    ''You fit the criteria of what they want. I aim high and bring my clients the best that I can.'' Willow''s palms were wet.


    ''What criteria?''


    ''An ace, someone with devastating power. A one man army in essence.'' Willow looked to the damaged arena seating. ''I thought that I had a good choice in you, but couldn''t be sure. Then I saw what you did to this place and I was entirely sure that you were the one, despite your technical loss.''


    Jerry was silent for a second. ''This was not caused by me, it was caused by a man with greater potential.''


    ''Greater potential?''


    ''Yes. A man that given the chance, would defeat me where others have failed.''


    ''The Monk?''


    ''Cadaoir.'' Jerry scratched the hairs on his chin. ''He is the one you should be searching for.''


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    ''Why him?'' Asked Willow.


    ''Why?'' He thought. ''Why indeed.'' Jerry''s eyes became unfocused, as if he was looking into some other realm. ''I watched every match that Cadaoir took part in. Without using his Monk abilities, without that power, he defeated Spear-men and Swordsmen with skill and a tactical prowess that showed a lifetime of experience. And it was done without a weapon, or a shield, or with armour.''


    ''Unreal.''


    ''Indeed.'' Jerry laughed. ''It was incredible. To overcome these difficulties would require in depth experience in their use, he was wholly aware of their shortcomings, and took advantage of that. Only a man who knew how to use such a weapon would have that kind of insight.''


    ''Then why fight unarmed? Why handicap himself if he could have his choice of weapon and use it with skill?''


    ''It is his test. He challenges himself to overcome great odds.''


    ''What result is he looking for?'' Willow was interested.


    ''I honestly do not know.''


    ''OK. How about this? If he is so good, how did you defeat him?''


    ''Good question.'' The man rubbed his hairy chin. ''Ego. Despite Cadaoir''s immense skill and tactical ability, his ego weakens him. He does not feel for the people around him, he only revels in victory and victory alone. Once an opponent is defeated, they are discarded from his list of usefulness and he regards them no more.''


    ''I don''t understand how his ego would stop him from winning. Did you not beat him simply because you were better?''


    ''No. We were the same level in that instance.'' Jerry began to pace the ring, then he stopped. ''Cadaoir, like those he has defeated, has only glory through victory in mind. It is a shallow purpose, doomed to fail them all eventually, which it has done. The greatest warriors find a deeper purpose, something to fight for outside of themselves.''


    ''And you had that purpose in the fight against Cadaoir?'' Willow was not convinced. ''Forgive me, but this was a competition of skill, your only purpose for being here would be to win and win alone.''


    ''Wrong.'' He looked at her from under the brim of his hat. ''When I saw Cadaoir and his disregard for those he defeats, for their shattered pride, the emotional damage caused by a definitive loss, I felt for them. Cadaoir leaves heartache in his wake, he utterly destroys his opponents and does nothing to relieve the anguish of their loss. Just think about it. They have spent a huge amount of time building their skills, building belief in themselves, killing all self doubt in order to face difficulty ahead. Yet he destroys it all and leaves broken pieces behind him.


    ''The greatest power is not in destruction, but in creation, or in this case, rebuilding something better from what was once broken.''


    ''I see.''


    ''No you do not. But that is not the issue at hand. I saw this failure in Cadaoir''s actions, it gave me purpose. I felt for the people he had no doubt hurt in the past, and would hurt in the future. My purpose was to explain to Cadaoir what he had become, and to make him feel how those others felt, using the language of warriors.''


    ''I do see.'' She did. ''The depth of your purpose, or your objective?'' Jerry nodded, Willow continued. ''Was greater than his. No. It was purer than his.''


    ''Yes!''


    ''And that is how you won?''


    ''It was.'' Jerry smiled. ''I''m happy you understand.''


    ''So what does this all mean to me?'' Asked Willow. Jerry looked disappointed, Willow did not know how to react.


    ''Getting back to Cadaoir. If you could convince him to find a purer purpose, you would find an unrivalled power in him. Place a weapon in his hands, give him that advantage that everyone else has, and he would excel in ways that even I could not predict.''


    ''Really?'' Willow was stunned. ''He sounds exceptional.''


    ''No, not until he lets go of his pride and his ego. If you want to recruit this man, then finish the lesson that was started by his defeat. Can you do that?''


    Willow had to think for a moment. I can.


    ''Good.'' Jerry seemed to read her mind. ''But it will be hard.''


    ''That''s fine, I can do it, I have my own purpose.''


    ''Is that so?''


    ''Yes it is.'' Willow thought of Fayyim. I''m doing it for my good friend.


    ''I believe you, I can see it in your eyes.'' He removed his hat, revealing a mop of shaggy grey brown hair. ''Then you will create a warrior with no equal.'' He paused for thought. ''I witnessed Cadaoir interacting quite often with an Amaratese official, a Captain of a ship I think. He looked rather important, that may be your first lead for finding your man, as I believe he has already left the city to somewhere I do not know.''


    ''He''s already gone?''


    ''He has, but there is a second place you could look for him.''


    ''Oh?''


    ''Yes.'' Jerry continued. ''Monks from the Spirit Temple often have contacts that supply them with food and tools on their pilgrimages. There are often couriers delivering packages to predetermined locations. The largest service exists in Amaratsu''s City of Bones, managed by a woman named Autumn. I would suggest seeking her out if your other lead fails you.''


    ''That''s good information, thanks.'' I have contacts in the city myself, I might even be able to find out about this Six Hands too, now that Jerry is a no go. ''Is there anything else you could tell me?''


    Jerry shook his head. ''No.''


    ''OK. The first lead you gave me will fail me if I waste any more time.'' Willow bowed and smiled. ''Thank you very much for your time, and for sharing your great knowledge. Sorry that I have to run, but the job is calling.''


    Jerry bowed in return. ''Thank you for thinking of me for your work, and for listening.''


    Willow walked briskly to the exit. ''Goodbye. And give my best to Wolf, thank her for me.'' She never heard a reply, only the calls of the birds flying above her.

 Chapter 48: Fayyim Tallhart

    I''m trusting you, Alexander, this better work. ''I wish that the words made sense.'' She spoke the line clearly.


    Walk South. Then the water receded and the fountain became still once again, to the woes of the children.


    How did the water do that? She gazed at the fountain quizzically. A Torrent? She looked around, searching for someone who could have controlled the water, but only the children and the mother were there. Fayyim stretched out with her Accessor power and the secrets of the people around her became hers.


    Not a parent at all. Character information was now available. The woman nearby was a player, not an AI. A Torrent, playing dumb. The woman did not look up at Fayyim at all, she only turned to the children and splashed them with water and laughed playfully at their reactions. OK. Fayyim thought. South it is.


    Where is everyone?


    Do I keep going south? Fayyim thought. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck. She briefly looked over her shoulder for safety, checking if anyone was behind her. When she looked forward again, she was faced with a tall slender man wearing black leathers. A mace hung at his hip.


    A Jumper? It was a young man in leather armour, with large bushy eyebrows and a shag of brown hair. He placed a piece of paper in the other man''s hands and then ascended back up to the roof in a single bound.


    ''Wait one minute.'' Fayyim was incredulous.


    The Information Broker knows my name? Fayyim''s heart was racing, her stomach turning with nerves. She looked around in panic, her spine tingled, the world was suddenly claustrophobic. ''I...''


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    He''s right. ''OK.'' She was still shocked, unsure what to think.


    That''s fair, keep your secrets. Fayyim nodded. Half an hour passed before the Jumper returned. He kept to the roofs, landed above Fayyim and the man in black and gave a thumbs up.


    ''Of course, because we are the only two people here.''


    Do I? I don''t think so. She pondered.


    That is just what I was after.'' He clapped his hands together. ''Thorn is in for a big surprise, as the Demshir''s are using him to fund their own conspiracy.''


    That''s fair. ''OK. One other thing: does Alexander of the Blue Wolves know this about the Demshir brothers?'' If he does, then he''s been withholding information, which means I can''t trust him fully.


    Damn it. ''OK, I think that''s all.''


    There were three? All identical? Before Fayyim could fully consider the meaning of that, a noise from behind distracted her. The celebrators in the city began to move into the street, like a river that had been dammed up, then released. Their music and song filled the air that had been silent a moment before. Fayyim exited in the same direction as the informant, only he had disappeared completely.

 Chapter 49: Dolon Elias

    ''Firebird, twin barrel, explosive shell.'' The Captain pointed at Dolon. ''Best pistol there is.''


    Dolon shook his head. ''On the battlefield maybe, but we''re talking personal defence here. I''ll go with the Firebird if I want to blow off someone''s legs, yeah, but only at close range, because the accuracy sucks. And even then I''d end up blowing myself up too.''


    ''Please!'' The short ship Captain folded his arms. ''Enlighten me with your choice.''


    ''I''ll show you!'' Dolon pulled from his hip a black metal pistol. He never often wore it while off the job, but Niall''s moods had him anxious to defend himself on the chance that his leader had a bad turn. ''What do you make of this?''


    The other man shrugged. ''A Louise?''


    ''Similar to a Louise.''


    ''Oh?''


    The Sniper snickered. ''Same aesthetics, but it takes rifle rounds.''


    ''How the hell did you manage that?''


    ''I never, it was a gift. It''ll break your wrist when it goes off, but you could put a Knight on his backside with one good hit. It''ll even go through a Defender''s shield. I carry an actual Louise to back it up.''


    ''Impressive.'' The Captain rubbed his cheeks with one hand, thumb and fingers caressing stubbly skin. ''I still prefer the Firebird.''


    ''To each their own.'' Dolon holstered his side arm. ''But when a Shifter comes at you from the bushes and your little hand cannon misses, you''ll wish you had that quick reload and accuracy of my Louise. It''ll punch a hole through him so big that his spirit guide will feel it.''


    The Captain laughed, as did Kartwright who was watching from the port rail. A sword sat in her lap, she polished the blade with a cloth. ''I think I prefer the idea of blowing a hole through a Shifter and killing it outright. I once saw one get its legs broken and still crawl its way up to a knight and slash through their armour.''


    The Captain shook his head. ''You people know nothing.'' He looked out at the river, Mount Churash ahead of them. ''It won''t be long before we reach Lake Churash.''


    The longboat had sailed and rowed its way up river for the past day. Oars dipped and men chanted, their might versus the strength of the River Churash. Dolon and Kartwright had been alone with the crew for most of the journey, the other Harlequins remained offline to skip the boat ride, returning only to check in and ensure the trip was going without a hitch.


    The journey had seen no trouble at all, though the sighting of a sea serpent at the mouth of River Churash had the crew on edge. They did not settle until out of sight of the ocean and up river.


    When the lake was before them, Dolon and the others were greeted by water vessels of all sizes. Most were long boats, used for reaving; others were merchant vessels and frigates that had been hijacked and stolen from enemy nations and pirates. The lake was used to safely house and hide conspicuous Churashi ships until deployed on missions. The in island location ensured that coastal spies or passing enemy fleets could not witness the use of raiding ships by Churash, only their official navy could be seen in the ports of Livapool.


    The ship pulled itself across the lake, the green-blue water fighting to force it back, only to fail under the force of the crew. Grass lands and sporadic woods surrounded the body of water, green under a white cloudy sky. Dolon loved the island, it was the environment here that drew him into joining Churash, making it his chosen nation. Little did he know that he would end up in a position that kept him away from this land, always off abroad inside enemy borders.


    The long boat reached the lake end and again powered through the rushing waters of the River Churash that came down from the mountain. Ahead of them was Lakehome Castle, a fortification on the west side of the river. It was a wooden fort built on stone foundations, and stretching from it to the other side of the river was a thick giant chain that stopped anything travelling further up river.


    Kartwright moved to the port side of the ship and waved with both arms at the castle. A man on the battlements waved back.


    ''Is this the secret code we need to get by?'' Dolon laughed.


    Kartwright smiled in return. ''They know me, we keep it simple.''


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    The metal chain that blocked the way sunk into the water, controlled by a crank in the castle. The ship moved on and the chain was raised behind it. Mount Churash climbed into the clouds in front of them, the city that was their destination was not yet visible, but Dolon knew it to be there, built into the side of the mountain cliffs. He gazed up at the distant rocks and lost himself to the splendour. It was Stacey''s voice that woke him from his trance.


    ''Dolon.'' The masked man said from behind.


    Dolon turned to meet him. ''Hey, how are you doing?''


    ''Better.'' It did not sound so.


    ''How about Niall? Have you spoken to him?''


    Stacey gave a sigh. ''Not yet, he really doesn''t want to talk.''


    ''In his own time then.'' Dolon walked past Kartwright towards Stacey, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder as he did. She did not know what they were talking about, as Dolon had kept the fact that he shared the information about the Winged Men a secret. ''You don''t know all of the details yet, it''s best to keep your cool and deal with it when you can.'' The conversation was kept vague around anyone outside of the Harlequins.


    ''You''re right.'' Stacey agreed.


    Dolon walked and motioned for him to head to the rear of the ship. ''Come here, I want a word.'' They both made way to the stern and talked. ''With Lucas and Broadway gone, the Winged Men are without any leadership. They''re weakened.''


    ''Yeah.'' Stacey nodded.


    ''Despite everything, I know that Niall''s going to want to step into their shoes.''


    ''Take over the Winged Men?''


    Dolon shook his head. ''No. Have the Harlequins take their place.''


    ''Oh.''


    ''Listen. We both know that Niall is... unstable?''


    ''He is.'' Stacey reluctantly agreed.


    ''If it doesn''t go his way, if he can''t take the role he wants, then he might go ballistic. He''s already losing faith in the leadership, and he''s capable of reacting in any way. If he can''t be kept under control, then you might be asked to choose sides.'' Dolon gave a pause, letting Stacey take in the conversation. ''Hopefully it doesn''t come to that, if we stop it.'' We have to stop it. His income relied on it.


    ''I understand.'' Stacey looked off into the distance. ''For Niall.''


    ''Yeah, for Niall.''


    Time passed, things were quiet until Stacey spoke again. ''Dolon..?''


    ''Yeah?'' Dolon leant on the stern rail, polished wood cool against his palms.


    ''Do you like being with the Harlequins?''


    Dolon smiled. Ah crap. ''I enjoy the work.'' He stalled.


    ''But do you like us?'' Stacey pressed.


    Damn it Stacey. ''The Harlequin''s weren''t my first choice of groups to join.'' Should have been the Winged Men. ''But a higher power stepped in and I ended up with you guys.''


    ''Tanda?'' Asked Stacey.


    An even higher power than her I''m afraid. ''It doesn''t matter. What matters is I''m here now.''


    ''Dolon, if I have to make a choice between Niall and the Royal Family, I''ll pick Niall every time. I don''t like how they''re treating us either, we deserve more.'' Stacey took Dolon by the shoulder. ''You''re the newest Harlequin, and we don''t know much about you. I need to know, do you like being one of us. Do you like me? Do you like Niall?''


    ''I''ll be truthful, I enjoy the job. I think you''re great.'' May as well say it. ''I don''t pay any mind to Archer and Gerome. As for Niall, I trust him to get the job at hand done. He''s a talented tactician. But I don''t like him, he''s too emotionally unstable. I''m naturally programmed to oppose that behaviour, I like stability. But Stacey, I''m also loyal, that''s why I''ve denied my instincts and stuck with you guys through everything, stuck with Niall through all of his choices, whether I like them or not.'' Dolon took a breath. ''Is that enough?''


    Stacey nodded and patted Dolon''s shoulder. ''Yeah, it is.''


    ''Good.'' Some of it was even true.


    ''Sorry, Dolon. With you talking about making choices, I wasn''t sure what choices you''d make.''


    ''That''s fine.'' I''ll make the right choice, don''t you worry about that. The Mountain City, capital of Churash, became visible. ''Let''s get this debrief over with.'' Said Dolon. ''Then we can figure out what''s going to happen in the future.''

 Chapter 50: Cadaoir

    University Hospital, a school for those training in the Medicine Man Job Class. Grass was under foot, trees scattered the land, though most grew close to the river edge. The road was sandy, dust clouds rose with each footstep and Cadaoir''s clothes were orange because of it; his white hair too appeared as if dyed.


    But what if I armed myself? Even a piece of wood elevated me above Auryon. I was evenly matched against Jerry, but his sword gave him an advantage. If I were armed I would have beaten him. Sweat trickled down Cadaoir''s face, interrupting his thoughts momentarily. He peered down the road ahead, distant trees shimmered in the rising heat. But then am I defeating my own purpose?


    But needed too. He needed to move on and experience the fighting ring and the cage to fully understand that the path of the warrior was not through gladiatorial combat, but through war. Yes he was challenged in combat in the ring, but it was not so real as he had once thought. The risk to his and his opponents'' lives was little to none


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    Even now that old man has me on edge! Cadaoir kicked the sand. I just don''t know what to do with myself. ''What do I do?'' He shouted to no one in particular, kicking the sand again. Then silence.


    Walk. He thought, and sighed. Walk.

 Chapter 51: Fayyim Tallhart

    The round table spread out before the gathered members of Hurdland''s armed forces, painted blue with a carved map of the world at its centre. Around them were the high marble walls of Garroway Castle''s council hall. Supreme Leader Cairo sat at the table facing the great doors that led into the hall. Sitting either side of him were Commander Arkwright of his personal guard, a giant of a man wearing a blue set of full plate, and Amber Fowler, Cairo''s personal assistant with the scar above her eye.


    Twelve Hurdland High Commanders and their entourage sat around the table too. At Cairo''s right hand side sat Field Marshal Demshir; then Admiral Demshir; Lord Giles Thorn; Lord Kryton Mirrormind; Commander Alexander of the Blue Wolves; Commander Leaf Walker of the Long Strides; Consultant Ferguson of the Second Wind; Commander Camphor of the Devil''s Fire; Commander Truesworn of the Blue Bullets; and Commander Funder of the Dark Heat; with Fayyim and Hawthorn next; then High Commander Rafael of the Order of the Silver Ram; and then a visiting party from Spirit Island at Cairo''s left hand.


    Fayyim tried her hardest to remain at ease, but her stomach failed to stay calm. She had butterflies. This event would mark a turning point in her country''s history, and in her gaming career. Hawthorn had said that this meeting would be the Red Front''s greatest battle, hopefully their greatest achievement: beating Giles Thorn and the Demshir''s at their own game, by bending Cairo''s ear to their desires and goals. It would save the country from an enemy just as dangerous as Amaratsu, all without raising arms, though it would likely raise tempers. But before the war council could commence, smaller matters had to be dealt with. Amber Fowler was consulting with Cairo, the Field Marshal, and the present politicians.


    ''The Druids of the Forest Temple have demanded that the ranging from Fort Tumblestone be halted, at least those within the area of the great forest. They wish to expand their own operations in order to defend their land, which we failed to do during the southern crisis.'' Amber read from a scroll.


    ''Is that so?'' Cairo replied.


    This is not an appropriate time to do this. Fayyim scowled, looking to the visitors at Cairo''s left. Airing out our internal problems in front of foreigners.


    ''They say that their reinforcement of those at Fort Tumblestone has gone unrewarded, and allowing this expansion would be a generous show of good will.''


    ''Why remove our forces from the forest? The presence of Hurdland and the Druids would undoubtedly be a more affective defence.'' Mirrormind enquired.


    ''The Druids wish to reduce conflict, as when patrols from both sides meet there is fighting.'' Answered Amber.


    ''That is not going to happen.'' Cairo interjected. ''Counter their request: they may not expand. We offer a formal truce and the placement of Druid representation in the capital and at the City of Rest, to deal with matters between Hurdland and the Forest Temple if they arise. Just as long as we may send a representative of our own to the Druid Temple. This will allow us to negotiate expansion, trade and perhaps joint operations with our military in those parts. You get the idea, I''m sure you can handle the details.''''


    ''Yes My Lord.'' Amber jotted a note on the scroll with a pen.


    ''Is there anything else?'' Cairo demanded.


    ''Yes My Lord. There is the matter of the murders in Holta on Trine.'' Amber replied.


    ''I''ve had these murders investigated.'' Cairo brushed the table with his hands. ''I''m told that there is a single killer on the loose, a matter for the local adventurers I think.''


    ''I would agree, My Lord, only there has been a serious incident.''


    ''Spit it out!'' Giles Thorn shouted, spittle forming on his bottom lip. He was a thin man, strong in the shoulders but with a weasel like look to his eyes. He wore a blue Tunic and trousers with a black cloak over his shoulders. ''We have things to discuss.''


    Amber gave him a deadly look, though Cairo hardly batted an eye. The assistant to the Supreme Leader continued. ''A number of our stationed Soldiers have been quite brutally killed.''


    ''How were they killed?'' Asked Cairo.


    ''Witnesses say that it was an ambush. A swordsman single-handedly slew them in the street. They tried to fight but fell quite easily, My Lord.''


    A single swordsman? Fayyim was intrigued.


    ''How many?''


    ''Seven.''


    ''Seven? That''s no small feat.'' Cairo was not wrong.


    ''Yes sir, Seven. Then five more who came to reinforce their comrades.''


    I certainly hope Willow knows about this. Fayyim had not thought about her friend for a time, she realised.


    Commander Arkwright laughed. ''Impressive. It seems that powerful people are finally showing up in Holta on Trine. What is the verdict, Fowler?''


    ''Still unclear, but witnesses swear that the Swordsman wears Hurdland''s colours.''


    ''Our colours?'' Field Marshal Demshir interjected. ''Sorry for the slight lack in etiquette, but does this mean that we may not be dealing with people of the world or events out of our control?''


    ''Evidently not.'' Amber Fowler turned to Cairo. ''My Lord, this may well be the beginnings of something quite dangerous. There has been unrest in the west of Kurknein as of late.''


    ''Perhaps Amaratsu loyalists posing as our own men, or even remnants of Princess Ashara''s invasion forces that have made their way to one of our cities.'' Arkwright added.


    ''It is troubling, but I highly doubt an enemy incursion that far north.'' Cairo concluded. ''It does not warrant the use of any major force. Put out a notice: Five hundred gold for anyone who brings this matter to light and ends it.''


    Fowler scribbled on the scroll. ''Yes My Lord.'' She then rolled the parchment up and vanished it somewhere below the table top.


    ''Let us move on to greater matters.'' Cairo''s voice rose. ''You have all been called here for a great purpose.'' He pointed at the carved map. ''To take the land from under our enemy''s very feet.''


    As if on cue, Field Marshal Demshir stood and spoke loudly and clearly. ''We have no way of forcing our way through The Sands again. Amaratsu has secured the southern lands and with their hold of the Great Castle Bridge they have a constant means of reinforcement. Our best chance of defeating our enemy is by the sea.''


    A tall golden haired woman raised her hand. Cairo acknowledged her with a nod. ''Commander Leaf Walker?''


    The woman stood, her leather armour creaking as she did. She was Leaf Walker, leader of the Long Strides, a band specialising in the use of Jumpers and Skimmers as battlefield messengers and fast attack units. ''Forgive me for saying, but our country''s strength at sea has never been very apparent-''


    ''Allow me.'' The Field Marshal interrupted. Leaf walker sat back down. ''The most honourable Lord Thorn has taken it upon himself to fund the construction of a new fleet for Hurdland. Admiral?'' Jonathan Demshir turned to his brother.


    Admiral of the Fleet Nicholas Demshir stood. ''We in the north have been building a large number of vessels that are capable of competing on the water against even Churash''s nimble long boats.''


    ''No small feat.'' Fayyim commended them, as sincerely as she could.


    ''Indeed.'' The Admiral continued. ''We have the ships, we have the manpower and we have the element of surprise.''


    ''Our invasion of Amaratsu is close, but first we have one obstacle. Churash. They own the oceans, despite their tiny population.'' Jonathan added.


    ''Thankfully.'' Nicholas ploughed on. ''Lord Thorn has also been securing Slug Island for use as a launching pad against Churash. One small push will see the Churashi forces removed from the island completely. This means that we, with our overwhelming forces, can conquer Churash, thus taking control of the oceans, then Amaratsu.''


    The gathered Commanders fell into abrupt conversation, commending the plan, discussing the pros and cons between each other. Fayyim was silent, her eyes focused on Cairo, then scanned over the proud Giles Thorn and the Demshir brothers. Just as Alexander and the Information Broker said.


    The room quieted slowly. Field Marshal Demshir took control again. ''Every one here will have a role to play.'' He pointed to the carved map. ''Our fleet will not be deployed until Slug Island has been taken. The Order of the Silver Ram will be tasked with this. Once secured, the island will be used as a base to send Commander Rafael and his Knights to the southern Churashi archipelago, with the Blue Wolves and the Blue Bullets at his aid.


    ''We will stage a forward base at the archipelago. The Blue Wolves will remain to hold the islands while the Order of the Silver Ram and Blue Bullets will attack Churash''s port city, Livapool, under the command of Lord Thorn and his personal forces.''


    Admiral Nicholas Demshir took over the telling of the plan. ''With Slug Island and the southern archipelago taken, and then the attack on Livapool, Churash will have no choice but to fully deploy their forces in defence. This will require their navy stationed at the Great Seafort to head south-west, the fastest route. Unfortunately for them, our new fleet would have already departed from Garrofort and made way around the northern sea of Churash, where it will deploy The Second Wind, the Dark Heat and The Long Strides on the northern shores of the island nation, who will then make their way south to Fallsfort. The fleet will then continue to the Floating City with the Red Front and Devil''s Fire on board.''


    Jonathan spoke up again, as if the two brothers had rehearsed this before. ''With Fallsfort taken, it will secure our ability to reinforce the seizure of Livapool. Once the city is taken, we will have two bases on the island to stage an invasion of the capital to the east. Taking the Floating City will allow us to tackle the Great Seafort of Churash and dominate the seas completely.''


    ''A wonderful plan.'' Rafael spoke. ''I take it that we would then invade Amaratsu from the north?''


    ''That is correct.'' The Field Marshal nodded.


    ''What will stop Amaratsu from invading from the south, especially if they catch wind of our mass invasion of Churash?'' Truesworn of the Blue Bullets, a slender man wearing a breast plate over blue clothing, interjected. His deep blue eyes as wise and seeing as they come.


    ''The lesser Commanders of the south should be enough to hold off Princess Ashara''s armies.'' It was a throwaway comment made by Giles Thorn.


    I don''t think so. Fayyim scowled. ''If I may?''


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    Cairo replied. ''You may, Fayyim Tallhart.''


    Fayyim stood. ''It was the southern Commanders that fell to Ashara in the first place. I know, I was one of them. And despite my victory in the southern crisis afterwards, the defences there have been left lacking. I would just like you to know that Lord Thorn is wrong in that matter.'' Cairo has to see that Thorn is not reliable.


    ''I disagree.'' The Field Marshal brushed her off.


    ''Even so, I am right.'' Fayyim sniffed. Demshir was stunned. ''That said, Commander Alexander has ordered a mercenary army to bolster our forces on the border between Shoulderside and The Sands. I would just like our Supreme Leader to know that some of us do have the best interests of the south at heart.''


    ''I think Ashara will learn from her experiences during the southern sieges and rally a greater force to invade Shoulderside a second time, knowing full well how inadequate our defences are right now.'' Truesworn assumed.


    Giles rebuked. ''But with an army sent south by Commander Alexander, this is not an issue. May we continue with the discussion of our plan?''


    Fayyim looked to Cairo, who had the delegation from Spirit Island whispering across the table to him. They were three Monks, a bald, young... Man? Woman? Fayyim could not tell, the person was smooth skinned and without any defining features.. They had a male and female Monk on each side, likely the person''s personal assistants or guard. Cairo spoke up. ''Let us leave the subject of the south and please continue with discussing the plan.''


    Fayyim was intrigued. ''Supreme Leader, what part are our guests playing in this affair?''


    Cairo made to speak, yet the young Monk interrupted. ''My dear lady.'' The Monk was a man by the sound of his voice. ''We of the Spirit Temple, despite our pacifism, have been in dispute with Amaratsu''s claim of our land for a very long time. No more will we passively wait for our desired outcome


    ''We of Spirit Island have come to the conclusion that in order to free ourselves, we must free Amaratsu. To be more clear: the northern lands of Amaratsu. After your invasion of Churash, the students of the Spirit Temple will ally with Hurdland in aid of your cause, on the condition that the northern lands be handed over to our rule.'' He smiled. ''Hurdland will take the south and the capital.''


    ''A bold plan.'' Fayyim nodded.


    ''It is!'' Lord Thorn laughed. ''It really is, and it will work!''


    You conniving scum. Fayyim subdued her rage. ''Is there more to it?''


    ''The invasion of Amaratsu will be planned after our victory over the Churashi. As for now, our plan has been fully disclosed.'' Jonathan Demshir replied.


    ''It is a good plan.'' Fayyim brushed her pony tail with one hand, smoothing out any loose strands of hair. ''But some of us do have concerns.'' She looked to Cairo. ''May we discuss these concerns openly?''


    ''We may.'' Cairo nodded. Giles Thorn scowled and the Demshir''s looked to each other with a quick glance. ''We will take turns around the table. I know that the Lords Thorn and Mirrormind back the plan completely, as do the Field Marshal and Admiral of the Fleet. Commander Rafael, what are your thoughts?''


    Rafael spoke immediately. ''I do whatever I am commanded to.''


    ''Spoken like a true Commander of Hurdland.'' Jonathan Demshir added.


    ''Indeed.'' Cairo turned to Alexander. ''Commander Alexander.''


    ''I believe the plan could succeed, if it wasn''t for the south. I fear that Princess Ashara would return with greater numbers while we are distracted on the northern seas.''


    ''Noted. Commander Leaf Walker?''


    ''I think the plan underestimates the ability of the Churashi navy to repel us. I agree that we require greater strength at sea, but quite frankly, the plan looks doomed to fail from my point of view. Why commit so much of our force to Churash when we could do that in The Sands? We should take the Great Castle Bridge.'' Giles snickered and rolled his eyes. ''Do you have a problem, Lord?'' Leaf Walker demanded.


    ''Trust a woman to find folly in a perfectly good plan.'' Responded Giles.


    Leaf Walker near exploded with anger, yet Fayyim spoke first. ''A woman''s intuition is rarely wrong, Lord Thorn.'' Everyone looked to her. ''Yet how would you know? Women find you so repulsive that you''ve never been close enough to experience it.''


    Arkwright laughed, as did Assistant Fowler. Giles quivered and spat. ''How dare you!''


    ''Oh please!'' Fayyim scolded. ''Commander Walker knows the truth of it, she''s the most travelled soldier here. She knows the geography. She knows our ability on sea and on land. She knows the enemy''s capabilities too. If she says we are better on land, then I''m inclined to agree with her most experienced opinion.''


    Leaf Walker sat, her anger quelled. ''Thank you.''


    ''If the good Commander Walker was with those of us fighting in The Sands, I''m sure that we would have had a serious advantage over Amaratsu. Failing that, if her Long Strides were deployed in Shoulderside as they should have been, Princess Ashara would never have been able to make her surprise siege of Shoulderside Castle and Fort Tumblestone.'' Fayyim looked to Cairo, who met her gaze. ''Commander Walker, where were the Long Strides deployed during the southern crisis?''


    ''Slug Island.'' Answered Leaf Walker.


    ''Where should you have been?''


    ''Shoulderside.'' Leaf Walker was stern.


    ''And who ordered you to the island?''


    ''Lord Thorn''


    ''Did this look to you as a wise decision?'' Fayyim looked to Thorn and then back Cairo, who in turn looked to Leaf Walker.


    ''No. As evidenced by Ashara''s opportunity to strike within Hurdland''s borders.''


    ''It gave us a tactical edge on Slug Island, a major objective in our plan to take Churash!'' Thorn countered.


    ''It took away our ability to defend ourselves!'' Leaf Walker rebuked.


    Alexander followed. ''If it was not for The Red Front, I doubt very much that we would have tackled Ashara so affectively.''


    ''Commander Rafael would have been sent from Castle Kurknein to deal with her.'' Field Marshal Demshir joined the debate.


    Rafael entered too. ''I''m grateful for your trust in the Order of the Silver Ram''s ability, yet who knows what the outcome would have been if Commander Tallhart had not been present in the south.''


    ''Do not forget that it was High Commander Griff that entrusted me with the task.'' Fayyim stood and pointed to the map, at the southern region of Hurdland. ''It was he that held Fort Tumblestone against Ashara until I arrived. Yet he sees no reward or recognition by those in the north.''


    Leaf Walker nodded in agreement. ''The southern Commanders are treated terribly by those at this table. No wonder people are rebelling in Holta, I''m surprised that the whole of the southern regions aren''t joining our enemies.''


    Fayyim continued. ''There were many factors that led to the success over Ashara after she invaded. Yet not one of these were considered by Giles Thorn when he shifted troops.'' Lord? I''ll never call you that! ''This seriously makes me doubt his strategy. Has he considered every detail?''


    The hall was silent. Everyone looked to Cairo for an answer. The man looked on Fayyim, judging her. ''Lord Thorn...'' Cairo answered. ''Was not the only mind behind this plan. The Field Marshal, the Admiral of the Fleet and myself designed this strategy. You must know this, so I doubt you would be so open towards me with your distaste without some other intention. Are you really criticising the strategy, or is this as I suspect, just a personal attack against Lord Thorn?''


    Fayyim had no hesitation. ''It''s a little of both, my Supreme Leader.''


    Cairo blinked. ''Is that so?''


    I must take power away from Thorn and the Field Marshal, without giving away that I know their plans. They are far too powerful to tackle in the open. ''I dislike the man, he ruined our defence in the south for his own glory.'' She again pointed at Shoulderside and The Sands on the map. ''That said: with the likes of Commander Rafael, Commander Walker, Commander Truesworn and Commander Camphor in the field, we can take the sands with ease.'' Camphor, a large shaven haired man whose polished armour had hints of orange painted across it, looked to Fayyim with intrigue.


    ''Doubtful.'' Short and stocky Commander Funder of the Dark Heat opposed Fayyim in a way. ''I''m convinced that Princess Ashara has been well turned off to the idea of invading us through the south, mainly due to your expert counter of her invasion. But. If we charge ahead with such a large force, she will most certainly meet us with a power far greater than we have seen on the battlefield before.''


    ''I agree, it will see us with a much greater loss, one we may not recover from.'' Consultant Ferguson, wearing the red and blue of his company, stroked his pointed beard. The man led the Second Wind, a company of healers. ''We have only just rebuilt citizen and troop morale. We could definitely not recover after suffering such an obvious loss again.''


    ''Would losing against Churash not produce the same result?'' Alexander pondered. ''The ships you have built are untested, the skills of the pilots and sailors undeveloped. What assurance do we have that the Churashi navy from Livapool won''t repel us, never mind those from the Great Seafort?''


    The Admiral had no argument, only an agitated eye. You scheming bastard, we have you. Fayyim opened her mouth to speak, but Cairo''s voice sounded first.


    ''It appears that neither plan can be agreed on. Attacking Churash and then Amaratsu by sea is littered with too many unanswered doubts. Attacking via the south will see us countered by Amaratsu''s Princess.'' He laughed and turned to Arkwright. ''What are we to do?''


    Arkwright shrugged, but Jonathan Demshir had an answer. ''I am positioned as the Field Marshal for a reason.'' He sat and brushed his lap with his hands. ''I have the most experience in battle, I understand that risks must be taken in order to succeed. The plan we have devised may have some short comings, but the opposition''s opinion suffers from a much more major flaw. Amaratsu already owns the south, they know our weaknesses and have the forces to exploit them. Never mind the advantage that The Great Castle Bridge affords them. They could trap us between the coast and the mountains in the north-east of the desert while deploying troops from the Great Castle Bridge in the south-west to destroy us on two sides. We should not provoke them, only continue with our new strategy.'' He placed knitted hands on the table top. ''May I remind you that if I order it, you will follow my command.''


    Fayyim looked to Cairo. His face was blank. You really don''t have any friends in the capital. They have you under the thumb. The Demshir''s would never be swayed from their plan.


    She looked around the table. Funder, Ferguson, Camphor, Truesworn, Mirrormind, Thorn and Admiral Demshir nodded and stated their adherence to the Field Marshal''s plan. Leaf Walker looked angry. Alexander, Fayyim''s first ally, looked defeated. Rafael looked torn as Fayyim caught him looking at her from the corner of his eye. It''s now or never. She looked to Hawthorn on her left. He and the other soldiers accompanying their Commanders at the table had consistently remained silent. He nodded to her, his eyes smiling.


    ''Powerful words.'' Fayyim leant into the table, eye to eye with the Field Marshal. ''Yet the real power lays with our Supreme Leader Cairo, his word is the last word.'' Cairo looked up at Fayyim, confusion in his eyes. I know what you''re thinking, Cairo. Why would I say that when you would obviously choose to side with Demshir? Everyone knows it. Well... Fayyim cleared her throat. ''Amaratsu has a massive advantage in The Sands, but an army is only as good as its Commander.''


    ''And Princess Ashara is a very talented Commander.'' Stated Cairo.


    ''She is.'' Fayyim laughed. ''And she is also unable to take command of Amaratsu''s forces.''


    Fayyim scanned the table, confused faces bringing some light to her day. I''ll remember the look you people have on your faces for a long time.


    ''Explain yourself.'' Cairo demanded.


    ''Yes.'' Fayyim sat back in her seat, folded her arms and took a breath. ''After her defeat at Fort Tumblestone, I took Princess Ashara captive.''


    ''And what did you learn while she was captive that would affect her command?'' Cairo interrupted.


    Be patient, I''m getting to it. ''I did not learn a damned thing.'' There was an audible sigh from those gathered in the hall.


    ''What use is that!?'' Giles Thorn shouted.


    ''Settle down!'' Fayyim fired back, standing from her seat. ''Ashara will not be commanding an Amaratsu army because I ordered her imprisoned. Indefinitely. Commander Griff has been holding her beneath Fort Tumblestone ever since the siege was lifted.'' Now there were audible gasps. Actually, I''m going to remember these expressions more. There was a long silence.


    ''Gentlemen, and Ladies.'' Fayyim bowed. ''Amaratsu has lost one of their greatest Commanders, we have a valuable hostage, and The Sands are open to our attacks.'' She sat back down, the theatre over, then in very relaxed tones she closed her argument. ''If you are all still so worried about The Great Castle Bridge, do not be. If my Supreme Leader orders it, I will take the Castle from our enemy.'' And steal the Demshir''s control over a sizeable number of Hurdland''s forces. She thought.


    Fayyim looked to Cairo, ignoring everyone else. In her eyes she tried to portray power, reliability, loyalty. In Cairo''s eyes there was laughter. ''We will take a break for now.'' Said Cairo. ''Commander Tallhart, Field Marshal Demshir, Admiral Demshir, Lord Thorn, Master Oudira, please remain. The rest of you may leave until recalled.''

 Chapter 52: Dolon Elias

    Get a grip. Keep your cool. Today could get you a bonus.


    and Broadway has affected me and my Queen.'' He walked up to Niall, standing over him, casting a shadow that even Niall shrunk to. Dolon saw all defiance leave the smaller man in an instant. ''We understand how you feel, not knowing if they''ve deserted or worse, maybe left the world altogether.'' The larger man placed a hand on Niall''s heart. ''I know how you feel, Niall Fireborn, I know how you feel.''


    Holy crap! Dolon could not believe his eyes. He had never seen a person handle Niall in such a way, not even once. More extraordinary than that, he had never once seen Niall stand for anyone touching him or speaking to him in that manner. But there it was, Niall was subdued.


    This is incredible. Dolon wanted to laugh. He''s completely out of his element.


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    A nation of lovers this is.


    The Harlequins won''t be taking the Winged Men''s place after all. Sorry Niall.


    have to take it. We''re confident that you can handle it.


    everyone who''s tried to approach the dungeon.''


    we supposed to kill it?'' Stacey sputtered.


    Great. Dolon was not impressed.


    He looks pleased... Pleasantly delighted. Niall''s eyes lost their darkness. It was actually more unsettling that usual.


    That sword didn''t help much against the Monk.


    She doesn''t usually give much away, but she sure looks pleased with herself now. Dolon did not know how Niall would react to this. They''re taking away his power over those loyal to him. If ever he was to turn against Churash, he would be doing it alone, despite leading many, it would be without players loyal to his personal cause. Niall, they''ve seen right through you. They''ve dismantled the Harlequins and given them an incentive not to take your side. The Winged Men are untouched. It must sting.

 Chapter 53: Cadaoir

    The blue stone of the City of Bones blended into the sky above, yet it was as red as any other Amaratese city. Cadaoir was orange and yellow, painted by the desert that he had left behind. He had travelled for days and days, up until a caravan train came and offered transport. He agreed, reducing his travel time considerably.


    The Monk had taken a break from the game for several days to conduct business on the outside. He had visited lost friends and lost teachers, an attempt to rekindle relationships and open doors once closed behind him. It was not as much a pleasant experience as he had hoped, reuniting with the martial arts he had scorned long ago. With careful diplomacy some doors were opened to him again, but the whole experience had left the man still in doubt. He no longer knew what the path he was meant to walk was. All he knew was that his most reliable comfort, right now, was behind a pair of goggles hooked up to a computer system in his home.


    When Cadaoir returned to The Law of War, spawning on the empty road to the City of Bones, he continued his journey to visit Autumn, the Spirit Island''s contact in the south of Amaratsu. Her place of work was on the southern side of the city, a hive of trading businesses and storage facilities. Cadaoir left tall blue buildings and shadowed streets behind him as the city opened up to low laying storage units and wide paved lanes, where horses pulling crate filled carts trotted from one destination to another. It was at the centre of this district that Cadaoir found a small square building with a blue hip roof. The building had no windows, only large wooden double doors at its front. They were ajar, so Cadaoir entered.


    ''Hello?'' Cadaoir could see nothing for the darkness inside. ''Is anyone here?'' His voice echoed loudly off the stone walls.


    A yellow light appeared in the distance, moving across his line of sight, vanishing and then reappearing from behind objects hidden in the shadows. Eventually it came towards him directly, illuminating long rows of shelving that ran from each end of the building. ''Who is it?'' A woman''s voice called, deep and raw, indicative of someone who worked amongst dust and dirt.


    ''Cadaoir.''


    ''Cadaoir!'' The voice cheered as the light approached rapidly.


    ''Is that you, Autumn?'' He peered at the candlelight.


    ''Yeah it is. Open the doors will you, let some light in.''


    The Monk pushed the doors outward, narrowly missing a man walking by as they slammed into the outside walls. He gave Cadaoir a disapproving look, but did not stand around to complain. The daylight flooded into the storage building and Autumn could be seen properly.


    She was a Blacksmith, one of the two final classes on the Trader Job Progression. Her clothing was dirty grey with other black and yellow stains covering the knees and elbows. A tool belt hung on her waist and slunk to one side, mirroring her greying hair that fell to the side lazily. She was a hard working woman and not afraid to show it. ''Where the hell have you been?'' She blew out the candle in her hand.


    ''I''m sorry I could not keep in contact, I ran into difficulties at Chira.'' Cadaoir bowed in apology.


    ''A raid, I heard.'' Autumn walked out into the daylight, squinting at the intensity of it.


    ''I then had some issues with a local Captain-''


    ''Captain? Ah yes, you beat up that Kainda girl.'' The woman laughed.


    ''Beat her up?'' Cadaoir frowned. ''It... It was a trial by combat, I won. Innocent.''


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    ''The news was that you kicked the crap out of her!'' Autumn brushed dust off from her shoulders, then pointed at Cadaoir. ''The Spirit Temple has gotten word too, they''ve been pestering me to send you home. You have some explaining to do, starting trouble with Amaratsu.''


    ''I did not-''


    ''It doesn''t matter what you did or didn''t do, you''re to go home as soon as you leave here!'' Looking the Monk up and down, the Blacksmith shook her head in disapproval. ''You can''t go like that, you look like an orange. I''ll get you some new clothes, a new backpack too, that one''s looking a little overused.''


    ''Thank you, but I only came to re-establish contact, I''ll be moving on with my-''


    ''Your pilgrimage is over, Cadaoir. Return back to Spirit Island. No arguments.'' Autumn checked around her for prying ears, then spoke in low tones. ''Take it from me, there''s probably more going on than just a telling off for you.''


    Cadaoir had no fight in him at this point. He felt rather aimless too. ''I will return soon.'' He said. Maybe it will give me time to think, the long journey back to the island.


    ''¡°Soon¡± isn''t right away, is it?'' Autumn tutted and waved a hand. ''It''s your business, do what you like, I''m only the messenger.'' She walked back into her building. ''You just wait right there, I''ll find you some clothes. I''ve got some appropriate stuff laying around here somewhere. Been reorganising my stock, so give me a minute will you?'' Her voice trailed off into darkness.


    Cadaoir waited for more time than he expected. The sun moved across the sky and was soon hidden behind other buildings in the district. Horses and people passed him by, some Soldier''s too, patrolling the streets on security detail. Some time later a light skinned woman in green and brown leathers approached him. A long brown braid fell over one shoulder and a finely crafted bow was slung over the other. A full compliment of arrows were quivered at her hip. She stood several inches over Cadaoir.


    ''Excuse me, Sir!'' She was all smiles.


    ''Yes?'' Cadaoir answered.


    ''Is this Autumn''s place of business by any chance?'' She stopped outside of the big old doors.


    ''Who is asking?''


    ''Just someone in need of her help.'' She gave a short bow. ''Willow.''


    ''This is Autumn''s place. She should be out soon.'' Cadaoir turned his gaze away.


    ''Thanks.'' Willow bowed again.


    The two stood in silence until Autumn returned. She appeared out of the doors with her lit candle at hand and a fully packed canvas pack-sack in the other. Willow made to speak, Cadaoir noticed, but Autumn spoke over her immediately. ''Take this and then get rid of that mess you''re wearing now.''


    ''Thank you.'' Cadaoir took the bag in his hands. ''How much d-''


    ''It''s already covered. Just make your way home.'' Autumn brushed her hands together to remove dust. ''It''s a long trip, and I can''t see you taking a boat north, you''ll need to avoid Hattsu and Chira.'' Willow appeared to be ignoring the conversation, yet Autumn did not take any chances. She moved closer to Cadaoir and whispered. ''Pay for passage through the tunnel to the capital, I''ll have a horse and pack mule hired for you. Go north to Katsuo village and there''ll be a package waiting for you from me, it''ll get you the rest of the way to the Spirit Temple.''


    ''OK.'' Cadaoir nodded.


    ''Now go!'' She slapped the Monk on the back. ''No more disappearing acts!''


    ''I''ll-'' Cadaoir started, but he was already being spoken over by Autumn.


    The Blacksmith looked the tall woman up and down. ''You look like you''ve been through a wringer, all stretched out. What do you want? I don''t think I''ve got any dresses long enough for you.''


    Autumn was not the type to argue with, she was as stubborn as they came. All Cadaoir could do was head home to the Spirit Temple, he had nothing else to do, not while his mind was in such a mess.

 Chapter 54: Willow

    Willow had followed Jerry''s advice, which brought her to the City of Bones. The ship Captain, Tori, was beyond her reach, but a few well placed coins allowed her the information as to where he was travelling. It happened that his destination, Hothaven, was on route to the blue eastern city. It was hardly a difficult task at all to track a Monk who was not the norm in the area. A few well placed questions and smiles were enough to get people talking. He was indeed heading east.


    Cadaoir would surely be many days ahead of her, but hardly out of reach. If he had made contact with his associate in the City of Bones, she would be able to find a new lead with ease. Otherwise, the contact would know where the next drop off point would be located on his journey. Either way, it was looking good ahead.


    Finding Autumn took Willow down streets of blue buildings and white pavement, into stores and offices that fit the criteria of a Spirit Temple contact. Yet it was away from the high street businesses and at the warehouse district that Willow finally found the woman she was seeking.


    A stone building with blue roof, as described to her by a local worker, was where the woman should have been. Instead she found a man. A yellow man... As she came closer, she could tell that he was covered in bright yellow and orange dust. Looks like it''s been a long road for you. ''Excuse me, Sir!'' She was all smiles, usually the best way to open with a new person. A friendly front, a trustworthy front.


    ''Yes?'' The man answered, scowling.


    ''Is this Autumn''s place of business by any chance?'' She stopped outside of a big set of old doors, darkness inside.


    ''Who is asking?''


    ''Just someone in need of her help.'' She bowed. ''Willow.''


    ''This is Autumn''s place. She should be out soon.'' The man looked away.


    Willow bowed again. ''Thanks.'' Those bright colours are lost on this one. Dim.


    An uncomfortable silence ensued. Willow wanted to say something to break the tension, but before she could, an old woman appeared from within the dark warehouse, a flickering candle in one hand and a fat backpack in the other.


    Willow made to speak but the greying older woman spoke first. ''Take this and then get rid of that mess you''re wearing now.''


    ''Thank you.'' The dirty man replied, his tones soft and without much enthusiasm. ''How much d-''


    ''It''s already covered. Just make your way home.'' The woman brushed her hands together, dust took to the air and then dissipated. ''It''s a long trip, and I can''t see you taking a boat north, you''ll need to avoid Hattsu and Chira.'' Willow eavesdropped, but kept her eyes off the other two, wanting to appear aloof. The older woman moved closer to the man and whispered in hushed tones. Not long after the man nodded in agreement.


    ''OK.'' He said quietly.


    ''Now go!'' The older woman slapped the Monk on the back, yellow dust gathering in the air around him as she did. ''No more disappearing acts!''


    The man made to reply once more, but was cut off sharply when the woman made for Willow. ''You look like you''ve been through a wringer, all stretched out. What do you want? I don''t think I''ve got any dresses long enough for you.''


    Who does this old broad think she is? Willow feigned a laugh. ''You don''t pull any punches I see.'' She grinned. ''I''m not looking to buy, sorry. I''m a head hunter, though I can''t tell you who I''m working for. I''m looking for Autumn.''


    ''I know the deal, girl.'' The woman scowled. '' I''m Autumn, but you should know this, I''m not helping you.''


    Willow stepped forward. ''Please. You''re the only person who can help me.''


    ''Then you''re out of luck.'' The older woman began to turn towards the storage building at her back.


    OK then, you dirty old mare. ''I''ll pay you!'' She jingled a coin purse. ''Please, just listen to me.''


    Autumn narrowed her eyes, but looked at the purse. ''I''m listening.''


    ''This isn''t a regular job.'' Willow held her hand to her heart, and lied. ''I''m doing this for a friend, I can''t fail him.''


    ''A boy is it?'' The Blacksmith shook her head. ''It''s always for love with you silly girls.''


    Silly? You old bat! ''Please, just some information.''


    ''If you want a man to like you, you shouldn''t grow so tall. They don''t like standing on a box just to kiss you!''


    Willow looked pleadingly, and felt a deep embarrassment for it. ''Please...''


    ''OK OK! Enough with the emotional stuff.'' Autumn beckoned the Head Hunter closer. ''Tell me what you need.''


    Now we''re getting somewhere. I guess I''ll play the ¡°silly girl¡±. ''My... Client-''


    ''This boy you like?''


    ''Yeah.'' Willow nodded. ''He needs to find a Monk.''


    ''I can see why you came to me.'' Autumn shook her head. ''Listen, I know you''re in a bind, but I can''t help you. The Spirit Temple keeps their members out of others'' affairs, I have to respect that if I''m to keep our business arrangement.''


    ''Please, I have to find him. His name is Cadaoir, do you know him?''


    Autumn hesitated. ''No.''


    Lie. ''You must know him.'' She took the older woman by the hands. ''You have to help me.'' Autumn looked Willow in the eyes, but her gaze faltered, looking past the head hunter''s shoulder. Willow turned to see the dirty yellow man walking the distance down an easterly lane.


    Autumn pushed Willow''s hands away. ''No.''


    ''Who is he?''


    ''He''s...'' Autumn was obviously thinking. ''His name is Six-Hands!'' She appeared to shake her head disapprovingly at her own reply.


    ''What?'' Willow gave up her act. ''I''ve been looking for him too!''


    ''That was a lie!'' Autumn made to grab Willow. ''He''s actually-''


    Willow was gone, running. Her feet pounded the ground, behind her she heard shouting, but ignored it. Fayyim, I''m nearly there.


    Six Hands was in her sight, as orange as the setting sun in the sky. He turned a corner, disappearing behind a building. She turned the corner after him, narrowly missing a horse drawn cart with a quick side step. The horse whinnied and the man at the reins yelled, but Willow did not stay to hear, though her ears did oddly ring with the sound of metal striking stone.


    Willow was reaching him, but in her haste had forgotten herself. Why am I chasing him like a dog on a hunt? That''s not how this works. She slowed to a brisk walk, tailing the Monk. I need to learn more about this man, figure out the best approach. Then she was face down on the floor, a weight on her back and a pain in her chest.


    ''I''ve got you, you lanky streak of-'' Autumn''s voice.


    ''Autumn, what is going on here?'' The Monk''s voice.


    Willow looked up, scraping her chin on the ground. ''Get. Off!''


    ''She''s a head hunter. She''s probably working for Amaratsu.'' Autumn put her weight into Willow''s back even more.


    Willow''s voice strained. ''I''m not working for Amaratsu! I swear!''


    ''Autumn, let her go.'' The Monk walked to them.


    ''No, you go while you still can!''


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    He raised an eyebrow. ''Autumn.''


    There was a break in the struggle, then Willow felt the weight lift off her spine. ''Can''t say I didn''t try.''


    Willow was allowed to climb to her feet, Autumn backed off several feet. ''What''s your problem?''


    Autumn pouted. ''You lied to me!''


    ''It''s all a part of the job, lady!'' Willow pointed. ''How else was I going to find Six Hands?''


    ''Not you too.'' The Monk was not pleased. ''Why is that name following me around? I have not used it once.''


    ''That was my fault, I was trying to put her off.'' The older woman explained.


    ''You mean you''re not Six Hands?'' Willow asked, then turned to Autumn. ''You actually weren''t lying?''


    ''Well-'' Autumn started, but was interrupted.


    ''People call me that, it seems.'' The man answered. ''But that''s not my name.''


    ''So you are Six Hands?'' Willow asked as Autumn protested the question.


    ''Like I said, people call me that, but I don''t answer to the name.''


    ''Then what is your name?''


    ''Don''t answer that!'' Autumn shouted.


    The Monk ignored the order. ''Cadaoir.''


    What. The. Hell? ''You''re Six Hands and Cadaoir?''


    ''Just Cadaoir.'' He answered.


    Autumn walked away, back to where she came from. ''Well I''ve failed. Now I have to go find my hammer.'' She muttered as she left. ''Should be buried in her spine, not a wall...''


    Willow gave Autumn a murderous look, but turned back to Cadaoir when the old woman was at a distance. ''I''ve been looking for you as well as Six Hands, thinking you were two different people.'' She brushed her leathers clean, then held out her hand. ''My name is Willow, I''m a head hunter. May we find somewhere private to talk?''


    The man regarded her for a second. ''No, thank you.'' He then turned and walked away, back to wherever he was previously heading.


    Willow skipped up to his side. ''That''s fine, we can walk and talk.'' She smiled. Cadaoir''s face was stone, emotionless. ''I''ve been hired by a Commander of Hurdland, the leader of an elite army called the Red Front. She requires your strength.''


    The Monk remained silent. I can''t read this guy. Annoying. Willow continued. ''I''ve been asked to search for a powerful warrior, someone capable of... Of unnatural skill in battle. Six Hands was suggested to me, you were suggested to me. I mean, you defeated Anoch, Hildae and Faeya, Marko Smalls, John Highbone, Santanda, Yurash, Daichi, Hollow Heart, Kainda and Deluge.''


    ''How do you know all of this?''


    Willow smiled. ''Your name precedes you.''


    ''Not quite, everyone calls me Six Hands.''


    ''Even so, you are known.'' Willow stepped closer. ''You are capable of great things. Fayyim Tallhart, Commander of the Red Front, will recognise you for this. She wishes to fight along side you against her enemy, Amaratsu. You would be at the forefront of battle, tasked with assaulting enemy strong points and creating the openings Commander Tallhart''s forces need to win.'' She took a breath. ''You''ve already cemented yourself as an enemy of Amaratsu, this will be a great opportunity to strike at them.''


    ''I''m not an enemy of Amaratsu. My dealings with Amaratese soldiers were on a personal level and not political. They know that, I know that. The students of the Spirit Temple take no sides in war.''


    ''That''s not what I''ve heard.'' Willow waved a finger. ''Word on the street is that the Spirit Temple is possibly allying with Hurdland.''


    ''The street is wrong.'' He replied, but Willow recognised the flash of doubt on his face.


    ''Maybe, maybe not.'' Willow readjusted the bow over her shoulder. ''That aside, let''s look at this differently. You''re a duellist, a fighter, a man who loves a challenge. I''m offering you a challenge that you''ve never had before: a war. Battles, sieges, single combat against the greatest names in the world. Fayyim is capable of pushing deep into Amaratsu-'' She stopped herself, looked around for anyone capable of hearing, then lowered her voice. ''Of pushing into Amaratsu territory. She could put you in a position to fight even Princess Ashara, or even Prince Philip.'' Cadaoir stopped. Willow stopped in front of him, looking him in the eyes. ''You could defeat the most powerful, no, prove yourself to be the most powerful.''


    ''The most powerful...'' His voice trailed off, lost to some thought.


    ''Perhaps.'' She aimed to use his own ego against him. ''Though, not according to some people in the know.''


    ''What did you say?''


    I''ve got you now. ''I had a little conversation with a friend of yours. Jerry. I''ve spoken to him quite in depth about your fight at the tourney, about you. Do you want to know what he said?''


    ''I-'' He hesitated, then straitened up. ''There is nothing that he can say that can not be expressed through combat. I will know what he thinks during our next duel.''


    ''You want to fight him again?'' Willow smirked. ''You won''t win.'' Cadaoir looked insulted, she saw a glint of indignation in his eyes. ''He has an edge you don''t, but he told me something that would help you out.''


    Cadaoir was silent, there was something going on behind his eyes, Willow was sure. Some internal dialogue, or maybe he was thinking of the best way to dispatch of her. That made her swallow hard. ''There is nothing you can tell me that I don''t already know.'' And with that he turned to walk away again.


    So rude! ''Then you''re doomed to fail!'' Willow fired.


    Cadaoir strode directly up to her. ''Who are you to tell me that?'' Words were about to spew from his mouth, angry, offensive maybe.


    ''Ego!'' Willow blurted out, interrupting Cadaoir. He was threatening, but she was strong in defence of herself, and her height made it easy to talk down at people when she needed to. She stepped towards him now, jabbing a pointed finger into his chest, causing him to take a step back. ''Pride!'' She said to his face. ''These are what Jerry said you have, but you''re so busy trying to be better than other people that you''ve forgotten how to be a person yourself!''


    Willow continued to point, and before he man could show any other expression of complaint she cut him off. ''Maybe that''s why you''re so rude, because you don''t care about anyone but yourself? Like right now. I''m here trying to talk to you openly, respectfully, yet you keep turning your back on me, giving me attitude!'' No one had resisted her like this in the past, so it did give rise to some annoyance. ''Jerry said that you had no real purpose, you only care to fight. Which is all well and good when you fight others of the same mindset, but when you come against someone with a real goal in life, a pure purpose, not selfish or led by ego, someone like Jerry, you lose.''


    ''I lost because-''


    ''I''m not finished, you can''t just interrupt me.'' Willow had found her stride. ''See? You''re inconsiderate, careless. You''re-''


    ''I''m not a bad person!'' Cadaoir barked.


    ''Sorry to say it, but from everything I''ve seen of you, you''re the definition of a bad person. You''re selfish, emotionless, you have no empathy for others. You''re not far off being a God damned psycho.''


    ''Just what did Jerry say about me?''


    Willow saw some emotion in the man''s eyes that she had no words for. Some kind of sadness. ''Why do y-''


    ''Just tell me!''


    ''Well, maybe not everything I just said, but he did say you have no idea how beating people in fights truly affects them.''


    ''I don''t understand.''


    ''How long have you trained for?'' Willow stepped towards Cadaoir again.


    ''What?''


    ''How long?!'' She demanded.


    ''Years.'' He replied. ''Most of my life.''


    ''And how did it feel to be beaten by Jerry?''


    Cadaoir swallowed. ''It was...'' She could see him thinking. He hesitated. ''Humiliating.''


    ''Exactly. Humiliating.'' She pointed. ''Now tell me. After you lost, when you were picking yourself up from those stands. What did Jerry do?''


    ''I didn''t pick myself up. I was knocked out, I woke up outside of the arena. I was told...''


    ''Go on, tell me.'' I can guess the answer, he helped you.


    Cadaoir continued. ''I was told that Jerry brought me to safety, even after beating me.''


    ''And there you have it! After he beat you down, he did what he could to ensure you were OK afterwards.'' Willow breathed in, then out. ''Now think about this. Think about all of those people you''ve beaten up until now. Think about the complete humiliation that they''ve gone through, about how their years of study and practice were made useless against you. Put yourself in their shoes, it should be easy for you now. Picture yourself on the ground, defeated, but instead of Jerry picking you up and helping you move on, it''s you standing there. An unfeeling man, walking away. No one to help you up, no one to teach you how to better yourself. Just a man who leaves you feeling beaten, humiliated, ashamed, and angry.


    ''Jerry said that the greatest power for a warrior isn''t in destroying things or people, but in building them back up after. Creating something better. You make people worse.'' Willow was breaking the man down, but following Jerry''s advice, she could build him back up. ''Commander Tallhart could teach you to be better, working with her would be a blessing for you.''


    Cadaoir''s face was in sullen confusion. ''I''m that bad?'' It did not appear to be an open question, Cadaoir was talking to himself. The man was reacting in a way willow did not expect. ''Willow.'' Cadaoir spoke softly. ''That was your name?''


    ''Yes.''


    ''I''m sorry for speaking to you the way I did.'' He gave a deep bow from the waist and held it for several seconds. His entire presence was that of a different man now, the hardness gave way to a humbleness that was as much as a contrast that Willow had ever seen before. ''I have some things to think about. Thank you for your words.''


    What just happened? Willow was confused. What was that? It seemed as if Cadaoir''s reaction was completely heart felt. And it did not feel like role play, it felt very real. That couldn''t be. Then again, she had fallen out of character many times herself in the past. Perhaps he was genuinely moved by her. To her dismay, before she could shake herself from her thoughts, Cadaoir had exited the world.