6.18 H (1/2)

[Martial Artists]. A term for people who use skills and techniques designed for combat, be it self-defense, war, competition, or other activities. They differed from traditional [Warriors] in a simple way. While anyone could learn to use a sword, and there were indeed teachers of swordplay or soldiering, anyone who knew how to fight could be a [Warrior]. It was a broad term that applied to self-taught amateurs as well as those formally taught by experts.

But [Martial Artists] practiced a system, an evolution of a traditional fighting style refined over decades, centuries, and so on, until it was a culture unto itself. Until you could call the act of carrying out moves a form of art in itself. That was what being a [Martial Artist] meant. But it was a rare class in most parts of the world.

“After all, who fights with their fists? It’s not really viable, especially for humanoid races. No—even Drakes and Gnolls wouldn’t do that well. Think about it. You’re up against some [Warrior] with a sword. Even if it’s made of iron, the sword’s a lot longer than your arm. Plus, it’s made out of metal. I don’t care how sharp Drake claws are—you’d normally get skewered before you got in arm’s reach. That’s why [Fist Fighters], [Brawlers], and so on are normally just tavern toughs or drunks. It’s rare to see anyone use that kind of class outside of a city.”

Ceria was explaining the concept of [Martial Artists] to her team. She was sitting with them in an inn in Celum. It was called The Drunken Swordsman, and it was a fairly nice inn as they went. Ceria wouldn’t have necessarily stayed here when she was journeying with Calruz and Gerial in the original Horns of Hammerad; paying for their entire group would have wasted too much coin.

Now of course, her team could afford it, but it was surprising to Ceria because the young woman sitting next to her was staying here of her own volition. No, everything about Garia Strongheart was surprising. Ceria shot a glance at the City Runner for the ninth time in as many minutes. She couldn’t help but stare.

Garia was thin. Or, thinner. She was still far from a half-starved girl, or a [Lady] striving to wear the sleekest dress possible. But even so, the change in Garia from when Ceria had known her was astounding.

The City Runner had been, to put it politely, a bit sturdier than most. She’d given Ceria the impression she ate too much, but that was a misleading look because more than a bit of her extra weight had been muscle. Garia had been strong as could be, but slow, which meant she’d been a low-level, if dependable, City Runner called on for heavy deliveries at a slower pace.

She’d been friends with Fals and Ryoka and had often been seen in the company of the two when Ceria had come across them in Celum. But that had been ages ago. Now?

She was thinner. Still not quite as thin as someone like Falene, who was practically the definition of austere elegance in how she presented herself, but closer to Yvlon in terms of size, albeit a tiny bit bulkier. But all that extra flesh was muscle. Which meant that Garia Strongheart looked great. No, incredibly good. Ceria was surprised at how attractive Garia had become. The half-Elf paused for a second, wondering if her face had changed as well. Then she realized she was staring and coughed.

“Sorry.”

“No problem. Hey, can I get you anything to eat? It’s on me. Mister Timbor, can we get some drinks please? And some of your fries? Hey, you’re going to love this, Ceria.”

Garia turned and waved to a big [Innkeeper] helping wait the tables. Timbor waved back good-naturedly. Ceria blinked.

“You seem familiar with him.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m something of a regular. I’ve made Celum my home base. It’s close to my family’s home, and I’ve gotten a lot faster lately. And I’m earning a good bit more, so I can afford to stay here.”

The City Runner turned and flashed Ceria a smile. She was clearly excited, and chatty. She’d practically dragged Ceria to the inn and the half-Elf had agreed, to satisfy her curiosity as much as anything else. She had to know what had happened to Garia. Besides, the only mission her team was on today was to do some work at the Adventurer’s Guild. It wasn’t as if they had to be in a hurry.

“Ahem. Sorry, Ksmvr. Where was I?”

Ceria turned back to the Antinium. Ksmvr was sitting next to Yvlon across the table. Pisces, who had more space to himself and was leaning back in his chair, raised one eyebrow in amusement.

“I believe you were explaining to Comrade Ksmvr why [Martial Artists] were so rare, oh, Captain Ceria. Because hand-to-weapon combat is quite foolish, is that correct?”

He was eying Garia as well, but unlike Ceria he wasn’t at all unobtrusive about it. Yvlon and Ksmvr were politely sipping from the drinks the [Barmaid] had just brought over—neither of them knew Garia as well as Ceria or Pisces. Ceria glared at Pisces as she lifted her drink to her lips.

“What? Yeah, I was. Do you have a problem with that, Pisces? It’s not hard to figure out. Weapons have reach, cutting power—and you can enchant them! True, some races have claws or sharp teeth. So what? We’re not animals. What kind of an idiot would use her fists to pick a fight with someone with a sword? Besides Calruz, that is?”

Pisces just kept smirking at Ceria. Ksmvr meanwhile politely raised one of his three good hands. The place where his fourth arm should have been was just a stump, healed but not regenerated. Sometimes Ceria worried about that. Ksmvr was an outcast from his Hive, but surely they could do something about his missing arm? He’d assured her it wouldn’t ‘impede his combat effectiveness unduly’, but that wasn’t really the point.

“As a matter of fact, Captain Ceria, most of the Antinium do not fight with weapons. Workers may arm themselves with bows, but aside from the Armored Antinium, all other types of Antinium Soldiers only fight with their natural appendages.”

“Ah. Uh. I didn’t mean—obviously the Antinium are an exception, Ksmvr.”

“We do practice exceptionally straightforward and somewhat high-casualty forms of combat, Captain Ceria. I take your point.”

The half-Elf turned bright red. It was worse because Ksmvr was so polite about it. Yvlon shook her head with a slight smile.

“Ceria didn’t try to insult your species, Ksmvr, I’m sure. But she’s right that other species don’t have, uh, the Antinium’s skill at fist-fighting. Your species has four arms and shells. We fragile Humans have weak skin and two hands. It’s not a good idea for us.”

“Indeed.”

Pisces was sitting up in his chair. He nodded towards Garia with his slight smirk. Ceria shot him a warning glance, but he was too far away to kick.

“As I understand it, [Martial Artist] classes are practically unheard of in most continents. It is difficult to implement it as a fighting method across armies of [Soldiers], and it carries several demerits, which Ceria has kindly listed. However, as I recall, the people of the Drath Archipelago as well as some Minotaurs have that class. Miss Garia appears to have picked up the class somewhere. Which might be the reason for her dramatic weight loss. You look quite fetching, Miss Strongheart, if I might say so. I congratulate you on the change.”

“Pisces!”

Yvlon and Ceria both snapped at the [Necromancer]. But Garia just laughed, and that at least was the same as Ceria remembered. The boisterous young woman reached over and slapped Pisces on the back; he nearly smacked the table with the front of his face.

“Whoops, sorry, Pisces! I’m not offended, Ceria, uh, Miss Yvlon. I’m glad you said something! It’s the first thing most people say to me—the ones who aren’t polite like Ceria, that is. Isn’t it incredible?”

“It is.”

Ceria gave up as Pisces shook his robes and the wine he’d ordered slid off the enchanted cloth and onto the floorboards. A passing [Barmaid] gave him a dirty look, which he ignored. The half-Elf looked at Garia now that she’d broached the subject.

“How on earth did you change so much, Garia? If you don’t mind me asking? It’s a Skill, right? From your [Martial Artist] class?”

Garia chuckled, looking delighted at the attention.

“That’s right! I actually got the class nearly a month and a half ago. And the Skill I got—[Weight Control] was one of the first I received! Level 6, if you can believe it! I’ll tell you all about it. But here come the fries! Take a look at this!”

One of The Drunken Swordsman’s servers had come over with a plate of fried wedges of potato. French fries, not nearly as thin as Erin would slice them, but unmistakably the same. There was even some ketchup with the fries. Pisces brightened up and levitated two towards him before the plate was even set down. Ceria murmured in appreciation and took one. It was salted very pleasantly and the ketchup was very good, if too sweet for her tastes. Garia beamed.

“Do you like it? It’s a new addition to Celum! They’re called ‘french fries’, but we just call them ‘fries’ for short! Aren’t they a great snack?”

“Mhm. They’re quite nice. These ones could use a bit more crisp for my taste, though.”

Yvlon commented as she politely ate a fry in the singular. Ksmvr had taken nearly as many as Pisces and the two began to devour the large platter with Garia’s help. The city Runner looked shocked and a bit crestfallen.

“Wait, you’ve eaten these before? I thought they’d be a huge shock! They came out just last week and I haven’t seen you all around in Celum. You’re still at The Wandering Inn in Liscor, right? I’ve been meaning to stop over there and talk to Erin, but I keep putting it off.”

All four Horns of Hammerad smiled. Ceria coughed as she turned to Garia.

“Actually, Garia, we’ve been eating these fries for months now. Or didn’t you hear? These came from Liscor. From Erin, actually.”

“What?”

The City Runner looked stunned. Ceria nodded.

“I guess it is new in Celum, although some people do come through to the inn regularly. They must have copied her recipe. Took them long enough; you can get fries in any tavern in Liscor if you ask. It’s great with a drink of ale.”

“No way. I thought that one of the [Innkeepers] here had invented it. They never said it was from Erin! What about Miss Agnes? Her inn was partnered with Erin’s, wasn’t it? Only, last time I visited it wasn’t doing so well. Although her husband is up and on his feet these days.”

Garia shot the [Innkeeper] named Timbor a confused look. He was a big fellow. Pisces smirked unpleasantly.

“I believe that’s because they have a particular grudge against Erin Solstice, Miss Strongheart. As I recall, your [Innkeeper] was one of the ones who upset Erin in particular.”

“What? But Timbor’s a great innkeeper. He’s had me over since—you’re sure? I need to talk to Erin.”

Ceria drummed her fingers on the table and snatched one of Pisces’ fries as it floated past her face. He scowled at her.

“If you do, watch out for the Hobgoblin staying at her inn. He’s quite friendly, but he hates people screaming at him.”

“Hob—hold on, how much have I missed? Did that little Goblin, er, Rags, turn into a huge one?”

“Oh—no. What happened was…”

It was strange for Ceria to recount all that had happened to Garia. After all, the City Runner had known Erin through Ryoka. But it had been in a peripheral sense; she’d never been at the heart of the drama in Erin’s inn like the Horns of Hammerad, and she’d missed a lot of action. The City Runner listened with mouth agape as she heard the stories. Face-Eater Moths. Raskghar. The siege. Goblin heroes and death. Zel Shivertail, the legend.

“Dead gods. And I thought I’d changed. But one look at your team told me…I can’t quite recall if we’ve been introduced. I knew the Horns had changed; I saw you during the siege of Liscor—I mean, the one with the Face-Eater Moths. And I heard about Lord Tyrion’s army and the Goblin Lord, but I wasn’t near a scrying orb for that. I’ll have to pay to see a recording if there’s one available. I’m sorry if I haven’t introduced myself before. Garia Strongheart.”

She stood up. Yvlon and Ksmvr did likewise. The [Wounded Warrior] smiled slightly as she held out a gauntleted hand. It was bad manners to eat with her gauntlets on, but the woman was doing it anyways. Ceria had noticed Yvlon wore her armor—at least her gauntlets and armguards—at all times. To hide her damaged arms?

Then Ceria wondered if the Free Antinium’s gels would help with her arms as well. She hadn’t complained about her injuries of late, but that was because she couldn’t feel her arms. Yvlon shook Garia’s hand, smiling, and neither commented on her etiquette.

“I have seen you before, Miss Garia. But I can’t say we’ve ever talked that much.”

“Garia, please. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Yvlon.”

“And I am Ksmvr. Hello. I am one of the Antinium, but I am not hostile towards you at the moment Miss Garia. So please do not fear for your life.”

Ksmvr held out one of his hands. Garia blinked, but didn’t even miss a beat as she shook it. Ceria groaned.

“Don’t mind Ksmvr, Garia—and he is an Antinium, but—”

“Don’t worry. I met that other one. Klbkch? And Pawn. Ryoka’s told me about them, so I’m not scared. And I hear Antinium have been in Celum before. Honestly, I was a bit worried we’d have people panicking, but they’ve seen, uh, Ksmvr before?”

“Once or twice. There was a baseball game…”

Ceria looked around. Ksmvr was indeed getting a lot of looks, but the Antinium had been spotted in Celum a few times before. Still, if Ksmvr were alone, Ceria would have bet people would have panicked. Another thing to worry about.

“Anyways. Where were we? Oh, right. Erin’s inn is one thing, Garia. But how in the name of tree sap did you…”

The half-Elf waved at Garia in general. The City Runner laughed again. She looked so happy. And she was clearly doing well; Ceria distinctly recalled Garia being worried about her job and how she was doing before.

“Like I said, Ceria. I got the class. [Martial Artist]. Level 14! I’ve been leveling like crazy. No one can believe how fast I’m shooting up, but I’m training every chance I get between runs. My weight’s just one change I’ve had. Look at this!”

She lifted her light tunic. Ceria blinked as she saw a very taut stomach and toned abdominal muscles. And something else she’d seen on Calruz when the Minotaur went shirtless. A six-pack of muscles.

“Oh.”

Yvlon sounded admiring. Ksmvr leaned over, looking blank.

“I do not understand what this configuration of flesh means. Comrade Pisces, please explain.”

“It shows high abdominal strength, Ksmvr. And I realize the distinction is lost on you, but I find it a quite attractive view.”

Pisces leaned over for a better look. Garia turned red and Yvlon reached over to punch him.

“No, don’t!”

The Runner girl looked pleased as she lowered her shirt. That was another change. Garia would never had been so bold. Ceria blinked as Pisces edged back from Yvlon and Ksmvr prodded his own stomach.

“So you’re really trying to be a [Martial Artist], Garia? Aren’t you a [Runner]?”

Garia took a longer drink and nodded.

“That’s right. But the two classes have great synergy. After all, both are about the body. I’m hoping I can consolidate the classes. But I have no idea what class I’d get and I’m running out of ways to improve. I do practice punches every day—and kicks as well as this dodging routine I learned—but I’m just dying to meet Ryoka again. I want to see her face—and get her to teach me how to do some flips!”

“Ryoka taught you how to do those punches? Now it makes sense.”

Yvlon sighed and rolled her eyes. Ceria nodded too.

“Of course. She took both you and Calruz on, remember, Yvlon?”

“As if I could forget. That was one way to meet her.”

The [Warrior] rubbed her cheek ruefully. Garia smiled.

“She told me about taking on Calruz with her bare fists. That’s not something I’m ever going to do, but when she visited my parent’s farm, Ryoka also taught me how to do a basic punch. She wanted me to defend myself. Honestly, I didn’t see much point in it, but she did some incredible tricks as well, so I thought—why not? My dad was all hyped up after her visit too. He practically forced me to try her punches the day after she left, and then spar. I don’t know if you’ve met him—”

“Wailant Strongheart? Doesn’t he run a really productive farm around Celum? I remember hearing about how productive his fields are.”

Yvlon looked curious. Ceria blinked at her.

“How do you know that, Yvlon?”

“I do take an interest in that kind of thing, Ceria. My family runs a number of businesses. He runs his farm practically by himself, or so I heard. Dangerous, even for a farm located close to Celum. But I take it he’s good at fighting?”

Garia smiled ruefully.

“Dad’s not alone. But you’re right. He can take care of himself. So can my mother. She’s a [Green Mage].”

“That explains it. Is your father a former adventurer, then? A soldier?”

“No. He was a [Pirate].”

Yvlon choked on her drink. Ksmvr politely patted her on the back.

“You are drowning, Yvlon.”

“Thanks, Ksmvr. A [Pirate]? You don’t hear about that every day!”

“No. But that’s an entire story…anyways, my dad’s still really good with a sword. And his fists. He kept egging me to become an adventurer and learn how to fight. I’m no good with a weapon, though. After Ryoka left he made me do a hundred of her punches exactly like she did, and then tried to get me to spar. Normally I can’t even touch him, but he kept egging me on. And then I threw one of Ryoka’s punches and got lucky and—”

Garia spread her hands helplessly. Ceria winced. Pisces frowned. He leaned over to Ceria.

“Ceria. Correct me if I’m mistaken, but wasn’t Garia in the possession of the ah, [Enhanced Strength] Skill?”

“Yup.”

Pisces winced. So did Yvlon.

“Ouch.”

Ksmvr looked up.

“Ah. That Skill is a more potent version of [Lesser Strength], is it not? I thought it was difficult to acquire for [Warriors], though.”

Yvlon dabbed at her mouth with a handkerchief.

“Rare, yes. I wish I had it. But it’s more common for [Farmers].”

“And I was one until I quit. It’s one of the reasons I was so big growing up, or so my mother always said. And I got a solid hit on my dad during that sparring session.”

Garia waved a hand. Ksmvr stared blankly at her. Ceria smiled slightly.

“Ksmvr, it’s not a complete comparison, but remember Calruz? Imagine him hitting you as hard as he could. He’s probably a bit stronger, but I remember a guy with [Enhanced Strength] nearly knocked him flat in a bar brawl one time.”

“Ah. I see. The potential for bodily harm rises. Commendable.”

Garia shook her head.

“I didn’t hurt my dad that bad. But I did knock him out. It was a lucky shot to the head, but still. I can’t tell you how good that felt! I’ve never so much as touched him when he didn’t want me to. That night I gained the [Martial Artist] class. And I decided that if I could knock my father out, a good punch would do just as well for any [Bandit] I met. Or monster! So I kept practicing off-and-on. And then I got to Level 6 and I realized what my class could do for me.”

She indicated her body. Ceria frowned.

“So you got a Skill and you could just lose weight? Like that? Isn’t that insanely powerful?”

Yvlon nodded.

“I know dozens of [Ladies] who’d kill for a Skill like that, Garia. Literally kill.”

“Well, they can learn to do a few punches and see if they get it. I don’t think it’s a powerful Skill by the standards of my class, you see. It just helps me lose weight, which is what I wanted. I guess that’s why I got it?”

She looked around the table for confirmation. Pisces nodded. Somehow he’d signaled for another plate of fries, unabashedly putting it on Garia’s tab.

“Indeed. It’s a well-known phenomenon that classes and Skills are acquired often in line with the user’s desires. I myself don’t have any Skills involving the summoning of flesh-based undead, for instance.”

“Silver and steel, Pisces. Of all the things to say while we’re eating.”

Yvlon glared. Pisces raised a hand.

“I merely bring it up as a point of reference. I much prefer skeletons to zombies, you see. Rotting flesh is so…unrefined.”

“It also carries disease. I am contributing this fact to the conversation.”

“Thank you, Ksmvr.”

The Antinium beamed. Garia looked around.

“I don’t know about all that. But I’m just so happy I got the class. It’s not the only Skill I got of course—I learned a few techniques too! I can do a really fast kick, I have a dodging Skill—and I’m a lot faster on my feet! But that’s just because of the weight loss. I can’t wait to see what other Skills I get, though. So I’m learning all I can about my class. But Ceria and Pisces are right. There’s practically no one with this class in Izril.”

“Huh. So what will you do?”

Garia shrugged.

“I’m trying to see if there are any [Martial Artists] or people with similar classes among the adventurers on the continent. There probably are, and I’ll see if I can talk to them and if they’re willing to share. Aside from that, I do my research. [Mages] know a lot, you see, and experienced travellers from Chandrar are helpful. If I could go to a larger city or a port…oh, and you’re wrong about [Martial Artists], Ceria. Just a tiny bit.”

“Oh? How?”

“Weapons are actually part of the fighting styles [Martial Artists] use. You see, it’s about the attitude and…discipline? The point is, some use hands and feet, but there are entire styles that take other body parts into account. Also, there are groups of [Martial Artists] in Chandrar too, Pisces. There’s this famous nation called Pomle and I was trying to see if I could send a [Message] spell there, but they don’t even have a Mage’s Guild.”

Garia sighed. Pisces sniffed.

“I knew that. I was simply referring to the practice in a broader cultural sense, not minorities by continent—”

“Shut up, Pisces. She’s more of an expert than you.”

Ceria smiled at Garia, privately delighted. The City Runner grinned at Pisces.

“Well, I have done my research. But if you know anything Pisces, I’d love to find out more. There really aren’t any experts around. Oh, there are [Brawlers], and I’ve heard of [Fist Fighters], but they’re completely different. I did hear a rumor about a…[Mage] in Pallass? He apparently trains his body. And doesn’t Erin’s inn have a door to Pallass?”

She looked hopefully at Pisces. So did Ceria, although the comment wiggled at a part of her memory. But she didn’t keep her ear to the door like Pisces did with his constant spying. She was more of an expert on adventuring and uh…half-Elves. He nodded at last.

“I believe I know the [Mage] you’re referring to, Miss Strongheart.”

“Garia.”

“Miss Stronghear—”

The young woman reached over and poked Pisces. His chair rocked a bit.

“Garia.”

Yvlon was smiling. Pisces blinked twice.

“…Garia. The Drake in question is known as Grimalkin. I’m familiar with a few particulars about him; he didn’t attend Wistram, but he did visit the academy…hm. He graduated from Fissival, but his ah, unique beliefs make him a pariah in the magical community. However, I believe his theories are sound, if excessive. Ceria, you might remember him. He’s the one who challenged an Archmage to a duel.”

The half-Elf snapped her fingers.

“Him? I remember that!”

“Someone challenged an Archmage of Wistram?”

The others leaned forwards. Ceria nodded.

“Two years after I left Wistram with Pisces. I remember hearing all about it. He lost, didn’t he?”

Pisces sniffed.

“Of course. He isn’t a high enough leveled [Mage] to beat any of the current Archmages. I believe he was up against Archmage Feor, a bad matchup, given Feor’s extensive abilities to control a duel.”

“Right, right. Good thing he wasn’t up against Amerys, though. She does not hold back.”

Pisces’ lips twitched as Yvlon, Ksmvr, and Garia all looked blank.

“He might have done surprisingly well. He did land a hit that nearly shattered Feor’s barrier spell. Apparently he suffered a bit of the impact. I would have quite liked to have seen that.”

So would Ceria. And she was impressed too; she knew how good an Archmage’s barrier spells probably were.

“So he’s some kind of fighting [Mage]? That might be what Garia wants.”

Pisces sighed.

“Alas, I think ‘physical mage’ is all too apt a term for Grimalkin. He emphasizes physical enchantment spells. Which means he can fight on par with a Gold-ranked [Warrior] with ease, but as a consequence he neglects other forms of magic. His motto is that a [Mage] should be able to keep up with [Warriors]. I admire the concept myself, as I combine aspects of fencing combat with my spellcraft in battle, but I doubt Grimalkin is that acquainted with the kind of fighting Miss…with what Garia desires. [Martial Artists] use Skills and battle techniques, not spells and they can rival even powerful spells at high-level.”

He indicated his rapier as he spoke. Ceria was nodding, but she saw Garia looked disappointed. Ksmvr waved a hand.

“Comrade Pisces. Comrade Pisces, please explain to me. How powerful would you rate a [Martial Artist] compared to a regular [Warrior]?”

“Well—”

“I’ll answer that, Ksmvr. I am the expert here after all.”

Yvlon smoothly interrupted Pisces. He sighed loudly, but took a drink as she took over. That was actually a good sign, as was the way Yvlon didn’t glare at him in any seriousness. The Horns were easy around each other, and Ceria could see Garia glancing from face to face as she sipped from her drink, listening.

Yvlon shot Ksmvr a smile as the Antinium turned to face her. They had a good connection. If Ceria could sometimes sense what Pisces was thinking from their shared past, she thought that Yvlon liked Ksmvr, and she was the only person who Ksmvr didn’t address with any degree of formality.

“You see, Ksmvr, it’s a hard question. [Warriors] like me wear armor, but I do know [Martial Artists] usually go without. It’s more of a question of how rich and what level we are. You see, at low levels, the [Warrior] wins if they’re equipped right. We can wear armor and use steel weapons. Bare hands and feet aren’t much use even with some Skills. And the problem continues at higher levels.”

“Ah. I see. Your Sword of Weight and my Forceshield would be powerful weapons a [Martial Artist] lacks.”

Ksmvr indicated the sword at Yvlon’s side and the small bucker he carried. Yvlon nodded.

“Exactly. But it’s not all clear-cut. For instance, [Martial Artists] have to train and not all [Warriors] do. I practice my swings, but I don’t do the…”

She waved her arms vaguely. Ksmvr copied her. Garia shook her head amused, but didn’t break in.

“…So maybe [Martial Artist] is a stronger class than general [Warriors]? It might be like having a [Blademaster] class in terms of quality. And their Skills are quite good. But we get enchanted gear. So it’s more even at higher-levels. One thing’s for sure, though. Take away a Gold-rank [Warrior]’s gear and give him just steel and pit him against a [Martial Artist] of the same level, and I know who I’m betting on.”

Ksmvr nodded a few times. Then he raised his hand.

“To clarify, which one would you bet on?”

Everyone laughed at that. Garia called for another round as Ceria got up to pee. She had to chuckle over Ksmvr. But someone stopped her on the way back from the toilet.

“Miss. Excuse me, Miss.”

The [Innkeeper], Timbor, halted Ceria. He gave her a wide and slightly nervous smile as he indicated her team.

“That uh, that thing with you. That’s one of them, isn’t it? An Antinium? From Liscor?”

“That’s right.”

The man licked his lips as Ceria frowned at him.

“He’s not going to do anything, is he? I know Garia, and she’s a good girl. Er, and I know your team’s the Horns of Hammerad, right? But one of the Antinium…it’s safe, it won’t act up, right? You can promise me that?”

Ceria glared.

“Ksmvr can control himself. He’s an adventurer.”

“Right, right. I only wanted to know…”

Timbor backed up, for all he was quite a bit taller than Ceria. She debated freezing his feet to the ground, and then shook her head. If she hadn’t met Ksmvr, Pawn, and Klbkch, she might have felt the same way.

“He’s quite nice. Don’t worry. We’re not staying the night. We have an inn. Ksmvr hasn’t killed anyone there yet.”

The [Innkeeper] flushed a bit.

“Of course. Look, I didn’t mean to say…”

Ceria let him go at that. The others were laughing as she came back. Garia was telling them stories of her new adventures on the road.

“…and that’s when I realized I really was a lot better! Fals came running back up to me, and then he just stared at the dead thing on the road. He couldn’t believe it! I was going to keep running, but it turned out the bounty on the monster was worth more than my delivery!”

Yvlon chuckled at that. Pisces leaned over to Ceria as he smiled.

“She punched a Rockdevil to death.”

“What?”

The [Ice Mage] nearly spat out her drink. She stared at her full mug, and then at the [Barmaid] filling Pisces’ tankard.

“Hold on, we didn’t order—”

“Mister Timbor sent a free round around.”

“Oh.”

Ceria felt a bit bad about her sharp tongue now. Then she felt better because it was a free drink. Pisces raised his eyebrows as he watched Garia showing Yvlon and Ksmvr a scar.

“Trouble?”

“No, actually. The [Innkeeper] was just worried about Ksmvr being Ksmvr.”

“Ah.”

“That reminds me. When we go to the Adventurer’s Guild, let’s be careful. Because they have weapons and I’d hate for one of them to react badly to Ksmvr.”

“I quite agree. Although, is your guild in Celum that dangerous?”

Ceria made a face. She tried not to drink too much ale before a job, but this was free. She’d have to sober up a bit. Maybe she’d grab a sobering potion at Octavia’s before she left.

“Not really? But you never know. Look, it’s been a while, but Yvlon and I know most of the groups around here. Let’s head over after this. And when you get there, try not to mention the undead…”

She saw Pisces nod. Garia was turning to her as he sat back up in his chair.

“So Ceria! Erin’s doing well, or better, I guess. I’ll drop by and visit her. And little Mrsha too! But have you seen Ryoka around? I’m dying to talk to her, but no one’s seen her in Celum for ages! Is she running errands around the Drake cities?”

Ceria stopped drinking. She looked up. The smile faded from Yvlon’s lips. Pisces looked up as he ate one of the remaining cold fries.

“Ryoka? We haven’t seen her, Garia. Not for a long while.”

“What? I thought she was in Liscor! What about Mrsha? She was looking after her!”

The Runner looked shocked. Ceria shook her head. She looked up at Yvlon and remembered the day Ryoka had disappeared.

Regrika Blackpaw. Her mysterious mage friend. Her chasing after Ryoka—

She gave Garia a truncated version of the story. The City Runner shook her head.

“And she just left? No one told me!”

She pounded the table, making the cups and plates jump. Ceria eyed her.

“You wouldn’t have been able to help, Garia. Believe me—we ran into Regrika or whoever that Gnoll really was. She took out a Gold-rank adventurer like that.”

She snapped her fingers. Yvlon nodded.

“Ryoka had some kind of connection to her. She left before we could get answers, but there’s a bit of ill will, Garia. Griffon Hunt, the Halfseekers, not to mention Liscor’s City Watch, Zel Shivertail, that Wall Lord Ilvriss…all of them wanted to talk to Ryoka. If she comes back, she’ll have some explaining to do.”

Pisces nodded. His tone was suddenly pensive as he leaned back in his chair.

“I believe the circumstances around Miss Griffin are…complicated. One thing is for certain, however. She is nowhere near Liscor. Nor do I believe she ran south. That would prove unwise.”

“Because the Blood Fields are active?”

The [Necromancer] blinked.

“Hm. Of course. Besides, Erin did indicate she’d run north. It is surprising you haven’t heard news of her, Garia.”

Garia folded her arms and closed her eyes.

“Maybe I was listening in the wrong places. I thought she was in Liscor. You know, semi-retired and looking after Mrsha? She had a lot of gold. If she went north…I’ll ask Fals. Or I can put in a request through the Guild if Ryoka’s still running. I want to see her. And if she’s north, I can do a long run.”

“How far do you run these days?”

Ceria blinked at Garia. The City Runner smiled a bit.

“A lot farther than I used to, Ceria. Farther, faster…and I can defend myself. I still can’t handle people with arrows or the dangerous kinds of monsters, but I can usually outrun anything. And I’ve taken care of myself since then. I’m not the Garia from before. I wish I’d learned this years ago. Maybe I would have been on the track to becoming a Courier by now, not Persua. Although now half the male Runners in the Guild keep asking me if I’d like to go running with them. Which they didn’t do before I lost weight, but they seem to think I can’t remember two months ago. They’re annoying and some of Persua’s friends are mean. Still, I’m glad she’s gone.”

The half-Elf had to agree. She downed the rest of her mug and then she got up from her chair.

“We’re not the same either, Garia. It’s been a long time since we were in Celum. For work, I mean. But we are better. The Horns are back.”

Even if Calruz is in jail. Even if he’s going to die. Ceria paused at that bleak thought. She shook her head.

“I’d love to talk to you tonight. But we did come here to do a job, so…”

“Of course. I shouldn’t have kept you. Hey, why don’t we meet at The Wandering Inn for dinner? If Erin’s made fries, what else has she done? I’d love to find out!”

Garia got up. Ceria nodded.

“If we don’t have an overnight request at the guild, I’d love to. We’ll send word. Or stop by at the Runner’s Guild.”

“Sounds good. And hey Ceria, Yvlon, all of you. If you need something delivered, feel free to ask at the guild. They can get in touch with me even if I’m on a delivery. I’m still not as fast as Ryoka, but I’m the best City Runner in the area now.”

“You?”

The City Runner smiled at them. Ceria had never seen that look on her face. It was proud, triumphant, and for a second Ceria forgot the old Garia. Then the young woman turned.

“I’ve got to go practice. I’ll see you tonight hopefully!”

And then she was gone. Ceria looked at her companions. Yvlon looked thoughtful, Pisces and Ksmvr were busy eating the last of the fries. The half-Elf shook her head. She noticed Timbor, the [Innkeeper], lingering nearby as they left. He was staring at them, or maybe just Ksmvr? But he said nothing as the Horns made their way into the street.

“Whoof. I drank too much. What was that, three mugs?”

Ceria muttered as she left The Drunken Swordsman. Yvlon steadied her with one hand. The [Warrior] didn’t look at all tipsy, but then she’d had some watered wine and then rosewater tea for her drinks.

“You need to sober up. Or pray our destination’s a ways away.”

“If the request is a day or two away…gah. I’ll be fine.”

Pisces wrinkled his nose as he brushed crumbs off his spotless white robes.

“Ah, the most tiresome aspect of adventuring. Can we choose a request closer to Celum? I would prefer to exterminate monsters and recline in comfort tonight.”

Ceria mock-glared at Pisces.

“We don’t get to choose the jobs, Pisces. Well, we do, but the best paying ones aren’t fun for exactly that reason. Besides, you’d better get used to this if you want to continue with us. We need to make a name for ourselves now we’re done with Liscor and the dungeon. Or we’ll never make Gold-rank.”

The [Necromancer] sighed but he didn’t argue. Yvlon tsked softly as she walked with Ceria down the street. It was a familiar route for her and Ceria. Pisces and Ksmvr trailed them. The Antinium was getting a lot of looks now. Ceria just hoped no one would call for the Watch.

“Captain Ceria, may I ask a question?”

“Yes, Ksmvr. You don’t need to ask.”

“Thank you. When you say we are ‘done with Liscor’, do you mean we will be travelling away from Liscor? Will we not stay around Miss Erin’s inn?”

The question brought Ceria and Yvlon up short. They turned to look at Ksmvr. Then they shot a glance at Pisces. He shrugged.

“I defer to your judgment, Captain Ceria, Comrade Yvlon. You are the senior adventurers as you constantly remind me.”

Yvlon sighed.

“I like Erin’s inn. But even with a door to Invrisil—especially since you can’t take more than two or three people per day—we’ll have to leave her inn eventually. We can stay in the area and visit often, but I think we’ll have to say goodbye at some point like the other Gold-rank teams.”

“Oh. I believe Erin will cry.”

The half-Elf rubbed at her head.

“She will. Dead gods, that will be painful. We don’t have to face that just yet, though. Like I said, we’re not at Gold-rank yet. Falene made that clear, along with those damn Ashfire Bees.”

Pisces leaned forwards. The flow of traffic on Celum’s street had practically stopped. People were staring at Ksmvr. He was staring back with interest.

“So our current objective is…?”

“Get more artifacts. Get to Invrisil and call in whatever favor Ryoka bought for us. Uh…find Ryoka? Maybe. Level up a bit. I’m Level 28. If I could hit Level 30…I’d love to gain a new class instead of [Wounded Warrior]. Something actually strong, like Ylawes’ [Knight] class. I feel like the weakest link sometimes.”

Yvlon grimaced as she flexed one arm. Pisces eyed it silently.

“I happen to agree with that. We could certainly use some refinement of our existing tactics as well. I admit my Bone Horrors aren’t at the level I desire. Yet. And I need new bones. I’ve lost all but the components for one Bone Horror after the last one was incinerated.”

Ceria shook her head as she turned the street. The Adventurer’s Guild was only a block away.

“Is that humility I hear, Pisces?”

“Merely common sense, Springwalker. Or don’t you agree?”

“I agree. Totally. I have [Ice Wall] and [Frozen Armor] now, but those are defensive spells. Pretty good ones; I’m miles ahead of old me. But until I can throw [Ice Lance] around like my old master, I’m only good at locking down opponents. And when I do learn the spell, you’d better watch out! Because then I’ll be—”

“Still considerably weaker than Falene, Revi, Typhenous, or Moore?”

“Shut up, Pisces.”

Ceria irritably kicked at Pisces. But he [Flash Stepped] out of the way. She balefully eyed him as he smirked at her.

“Come to think of it, aren’t you in the same boat? You don’t have any offensive spells past Tier 2. And your rapier isn’t much good even when you set it on fire. Your Bone Horrors do all the work and they’re surprisingly fragile.”

He sniffed at her.

“I’m refining them, Springwalker. Or do you think it’s easy to design undead? It is not. And since I cannot use traditional undead forms like skeletons, much less humanoid corpses, I must design new Bone Horrors from scratch. Additionally, the cost of animating a Bone Horror is considerable. If I maintained them like normal [Necromancers]…”

Yvlon scowled.

“You’d have an army. How many can you raise?”

The aforementioned [Necromancer] hesitated.

“Well, if I needed to…you are aware [Necromancers] and [Summoners] are related in discipline, yes? Only, the undead are permanent constructs while [Summoners] like Miss Revi use temporary beings that are generally more potent or diverse. So in theory, if I were trying, I could raise quite a number of er, low-level undead. Zombies. Ghouls. Skeletons. But I fear that method leads to circular patterns. I would need to constantly acquire more undead as I expended them. You see, the undead thrive on death magic, so they would need to generate it to avoid me paying the cost in mana myself…”

“And then you’d unleash them on a village to gain more and we’d have to hunt you down. I get the idea.”

Yvlon sighed. She shook her head.

“Fine. Forget I asked. Your Bone Horrors are strong enough even if you can only summon a few. And I like you more when it’s just those.”

“Why Yvlon, I was unaware of your positive sentiments. I return it quite happily.”

Pisces smirked. Yvlon rolled her eyes. And Ceria realized someone hadn’t spoken up recently. She looked back.

“Ksmvr? What’s wrong?”

The Antinium was trailing behind the other three, looking at the ground. He looked up and opened his mandibles. A woman walking out of the shop turned white as she saw him.

“Monster! H-help! It’s a—”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ceria pushed her aside. She pulled Ksmvr forwards gently. The Antinium clicked his mandibles softly as Yvlon and Pisces looked back.

“Ksmvr, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, Yvlon, Captain Ceria. I am merely ruminating on my despair. You see, I am quite useless. And Yvlon’s statement about her being the weakest link is fundamentally incorrect; I am clearly the weakest and most inept of the team. I tender my apologies and crushing guilt to the team.”

The other Horns looked at Ksmvr. Then they exchanged glances. Ceria coughed.

“Hey, Ksmvr, that’s not true…”

“I appreciate your lies, Captain Ceria. But the facts do not lie. I am the lowest-leveled among the team by far. I have not even hit Level 20. Whereas Comrade Pisces is now in excess of Level 30, and both you and Yvlon are closing in on Level 30, which is a mark of true ability.”

Ceria bit her lip. That was true. Level 30 was the point where you really started standing out from the crowd. She’d been fantasizing over what she might get at Level 30 for a Skill—or maybe a rare spell. It was amazing how fast she’d leveled since she’d first met Ryoka back in Albez. Then, she’d barely been Level 23.

Gaining six levels in as many months was fast leveling at this stage. Even if Erin was…well, she didn’t count. And [Mages] at Level 30 or higher were nothing to sneeze at. Come to think of it—Ceria eyed Pisces. If he didn’t have the restrictions placed on him by Liscor and Celum’s laws regarding undead, could he have a small army of undead following him around like he’d said?

But Ksmvr was the priority to cheer up right now. Pisces placed a hand on Ksmvr’s shoulder in an uncharacteristic display of warmth.

“Ah, Ksmvr. Don’t despair over your lack of levels. I understand the Antinium level slowly. You should regard your inferiority not as a mark of failure, but as a byproduct of being in the company of the truly gifted.”

“That is true. I am quite inferior.”

The [Necromancer] sighed.

“That is not quite what I…one’s competence does not merely reside in their level, Ksmvr. In time you will rise to something approaching my competence. I am sure you will eventually outstrip Springwalker and Miss Byres.”

Both of them glared at Pisces, but he was doing his best. The [Necromancer] paused as if he’d just had a thought. He turned to Ksmvr.

“Besides which, you are barely three years old.”

Yvlon tripped. It was a full-body thud which attracted every head. And it must have hurt. But she was on her feet moments later.

“You’re how old, Ksmvr?”

The former Prognugator scratched at an antenna.

“Three. I was created in secret by my Queen as a replacement Prognugator in case of Revalantor Klbkch’s injury. I understand you are trying to cheer me up, Comrade Pisces, but I was considered fully trained by my Queen’s standards after two years since my creation.”

“Ah, but friend Ksmvr, Captain Ceria and I took er, at least a decade of training to reach our levels.”

Pisces put his arm around Ksmvr’s shoulder. Ceria and Yvlon were too busy waving silently at each other to interject. The Antinium brightened.

“Truly?”

The young man nodded grandly.

“The maturation of Humans, half-Elves, and other species is much slower. Now, I grant you, it would still have taken you quite a long time to reach our level. But your current failing can be excused. I’m sure Ceria would agree with me.”

He glanced pointedly at Ceria. She stopped dancing about and cleared her throat.

“Er, yes. Of course. You’re one of us, Ksmvr. And you’re quite accomplished. For a three-year old. Pisces. You didn’t mention that to us.”

Behind Ksmvr, Yvlon made a fist. The [Necromancer]’s smile turned glassy.

“What? Well, it’s perfectly natural for Antinium…”

“Still, you didn’t think it was important?”

“The lifespan of Antinium…”

Ksmvr held up a hand as he looked back at Ceria.

“Captain Ceria, I am fully aware of your complaint and prepared to address it.”

“Oh? Go on, Ksmvr.”

He nodded.

“I am aware that you know of the average lifespan of Workers is only around two years in length. However, I would like to hasten to assure you that this is not a biological clock in any way, but merely a byproduct of high mortality rates owing to monster invasion, drowning, and accidents in the Hive. My body will not begin to deteriorate in quality owing to my age for at least a decade.”

“Oh.”

“Please do not be angry at Comrade Pisces. He merely sought to keep my advanced age a secret to avoid embarrassing me. You see, the Prognugator of a Hive must be trained, for years, whereas Workers and Soldiers are practically fully competent moments after being created. I had to learn to use weaponry, study tactics, history…”

Ceria sighed.

“That’s not quite why we were mad. But I’ll discuss it with Pisces later. Look…you’re fine as you are, Ksmvr. Let’s just drop that and deal with it later. Look, we’re here.”

They’d finally arrived at the Adventurer’s Guild. Ksmvr stared up at the two-story building and tilted his head from left to right. Ceria had to own it wasn’t the most impressive of spots. Oh, it was certainly bigger than Liscor’s guild, nearly twice as large, but it was still the Adventurer’s Guild of a moderately small city.

It was worn, the sign marking the guild was old and the paint had faded, and the guild had open shutters, not glass. Some loud laughter drifted out from the guild, as if it were a pub. Still, it was familiar to Ceria. In a way, it was home.

“What a mediocre guild. We might as well have gone to Pallass. Or waited until Invrisil. This is almost as poor as Miss Selys’ guild. Ah…don’t tell her I said that.”

Pisces studied the guild’s frontage dismissively. Yvlon and Ceria turned to glare at him.

“It’s not a big guild. It doesn’t need to be. And there are good Silver-rank teams in there, so watch your tongue, Pisces. Come to that—Ksmvr.”

“Yes, Captain Ceria!”

He straightened at once. Ceria eyed him.

“Don’t be nervous, Ksmvr.”

“I will endeavor to suppress my natural apprehension, Captain! But this is the second Guild I have ever entered! I must make a good impression!”

Ceria thought quickly. She really liked Ksmvr, she did. But she knew him pretty well now and she knew exactly how much trouble those words might mean.

“Right…how about you don’t. Uh, Ksmvr, this guild hasn’t ever seen Antinium. So they might react—we’ll handle it. Yvlon and I. What I want you and you, Pisces, to do is stay quiet, follow our leads, and don’t cause trouble. Got it?”

“Understood, Captain! I will be quiet and not cause any trouble!”

“Wonderful. Pisces?”

“Yes, oh, glorious Captain?”

He gave Ceria a sycophantic, fake smile. She gave up.

“If you start a fight, Yvlon and I won’t bail you out. Alright, Yvlon. It’s been a while. Want to see the regular crowd?”

The [Warrior] smiled. But there was a hint of…what? Apprehension? Something like that in her eyes. Ceria felt a strange flutter in her stomach as well and couldn’t place why. Why was it?

Oh. Because the last time I was here, I was with Calruz. Calruz, Gerial, Solstrom, Hunt…we were about to go to Liscor.

The memory froze Ceria in her tracks. She stared up at the guild. Then she shook her head, took a deep breath, and pushed open the doors.

—-

A worn room. Floorboards recently swept clean. Swept, but not scoured, because years of mud and dirt trekked into the room had etched itself between the cracks in the floorboards. There were stains too. Dark ones. Places where adventurers had bled. And perhaps, places where they had died, surrounded by friends after a mission gone wrong.

Marks of victory, small triumphs and battles forgotten by all. Scratches where someone had demonstrated a new Skill. Worn tables and chairs but not too worn; after all, adventurers would start fights or break furniture by accident. So the wood was cheap and the only permanent fixture was the desk with the [Receptionist] and the board filled with slips of paper. Jobs.

Ceria Springwalker looked around Celum’s guild. It was like she remembered. All of it. She felt a wave of nostalgia and sadness grip her. Then someone prodded her in the back.

“May we come in?”

Thank goodness for Pisces. Ceria jabbed an elbow backwards, missed Pisces, and hit Yvlon’s breastplate. The [Warrior] jerked out of the same reverie. As Ceria cursed and rubbed her elbow, Yvlon walked past her.

“Looks like a midday crowd. Not that many teams in.”

Ceria looked up. Instinct overruled her feelings. She surveyed the room a second time. The Adventurer’s Guild really did resemble a pub in a lot of ways. There were plenty of tables and chairs to sit about and adventurers being pragmatic, some did indeed bring their lunches to eat while they prepared for a job or came back from one.

More than that, an Adventurer’s Guild always had someone hanging about. It was a place to socialize. All of your friends might be here if you were an adventurer. This would be more of your home than any inn.

Yvlon was right. This Guild wasn’t nearly as crowded as it could be. It could probably hold close to eighty people before feeling quite cramped. Right now it held only about three dozen, including the staff. Ceria shrugged.

“I don’t know. This isn’t too bad. Looks like, what, four to six teams with a bunch of individuals?”

“Something like it. See anyone you recognize?”

Yvlon studied the room casually. Adventurers had noticed the door opening and some were casually turning to see if there was anyone they knew, or someone new to note. Ceria frowned.

“I’m looking.”

She thought she spotted a group by the job board. The telltale sign was the lack of any glint of metal on them. Ceria motioned Pisces and Ksmvr over. The [Necromancer] looked bored. Ksmvr was the exact opposite. He was craning to see and more and more of the adventurers were noticing him. Ceria saw one woman punch her companion and point. They weren’t stupid; they could see Ksmvr was one of them. But an Antinium had probably never walked into Celum’s Guild. If Moore, Seborn, or Jelaqua had walked in, they’d get the same kind of look.

“Let’s get a seat before we start chatting. Over here. Pisces, please don’t start a fight.”

Yvlon looked at Pisces. He sniffed.

“I can be the model of discretion if I so choose.”

“Do it, then. Good morning, Miss.”

Yvlon waved at the [Receptionist] as she passed by. The woman at the desk looked up.

“Good morning Miss—”

Her eyes widened a bit. Yvlon paused, but before she could ask if the [Receptionist] knew her—and it would be awkward because like Ceria, most of the staff looked the same to Yvlon after a few Guilds—Ksmvr tugged at Yvlon’s arm.

“Yvlon, please explain. Is this guild similar to Liscor’s? I note a number of architectural and stylistic changes, but the concept remains the same. Is this so?”

“That’s right, Ksmvr. We’ve got a [Receptionist] like Selys, a place to hang out—training yard’s around back probably—and they’ve got a supply of emergency potions. This guild doesn’t sell food or drinks, but it’s got the basics. Job board, place to sit, place to turn in bounties and collect gold.”

“Ah. Thank you for clarifying. I wondered if Drakes and Humans were dissimilar in how they ran their guilds.”

“It might be different in a Walled City, or how they manage their guilds up north, but Liscor vs Celum? We’re too close by to be that different. Come on. I think I spot…”

Yvlon headed towards the tables near the end of the room. Some of the adventurers were looking their way. After all, Yvlon was hard to miss. No, their entire team was hard to miss. Ksmvr aside, Yvlon was wearing all-plate armor and even if you couldn’t tell it was enchanted, it meant she was pretty successful. Or her family was rich. And Pisces and Ceria both wore robes, marking them out as well. And Ksmvr was Ksmvr.

A young man a few years younger than Yvlon, a bit younger than Erin, was staring at them uncertainly. He looked at Yvlon first, and then at Ceria. The half-Elf saw his eyes go to her face as she scrutinized him. Was he…?

The adventurer’s eyes widened as he saw Ceria’s hand. But then he stood up. He raised his voice.

“Is that Ceria? Ceria Springwalker? And—Yvlon?”

The guild went silent. Now every head turned. Ceria felt her heart jump. Yvlon stopped.

“Caddin?”

The young man walked towards them. He wore leather armor, and he carried an odd weapon with him. It was a sword. A sword, but one made of wood. From handle to hilt, it was just wood. But polished wood. Expertly carved and honed until it had an edge that could cut paper or flesh. It still looked incongruous, but Ceria knew the sword had killed more than one monster. She smiled broadly at Caddin as he halted, staring from her to Yvlon with shock.

“It’s us, Caddin! Are you surprised to see us? We just came from Liscor! We’re the Horns of Hammerad. The new group, I mean. The old one’s…”

She trailed off. Ceria felt her heart skip another beat as Caddin stared at her. She waited for him to ask the obvious. But he just stared at her.

“Yeah. We’d heard you’d reformed the Horns of Hammerad. But I couldn’t believe it.”

His eyes shifted to Yvlon. The woman smiled at him.

“Good to see you again, Caddin. How’s the team doing?”

“Us? We’re good. Yeah. They’re right over here. Hey! Guys!”

Caddin waved a hand absently. Ceria saw six people stand up. Three more men, three women. That squared with what she remembered. One of their group was a [Mage], but she, like the others, wore leather armor. And not one of them had a hint of metal on their persons. Their weapons were wood. Even the tips of their arrows were crafted out of wood. They paused behind Caddin as Ceria introduced the Horns.

“Caddin, this is our new team. You know Yvlon, but this is Pisces and Ksmvr. He’s from Liscor and Pisces is from Wistram. Ksmvr’s an Antinium, but they’re fairly normal in most ways.”

“Hello. I am Ksmvr. I understand you are competition.”

The Antinium raised a hand as he extended one to shake. Caddin jumped.

“An Antinium? I thought they—”

He caught himself. Gingerly he reached out and shook Ksmvr’s hand, flinching a tiny bit as he touched the Antinium’s exoskeleton. Ksmvr shook his hand cheerfully.

“I have now met Mister Caddin. Is he a superior adventurer, or inferior, Captain Ceria?”

Yvlon suppressed a sigh. She waved at the [Mage], a woman in her mid-twenties with faded ashy hair as she came forwards.

“Caddin’s a Silver-rank adventurer, just like us, Ksmvr. My team knew him back in the day. His group’s named Thunder’s Solace. They have a [Lightning Mage] for a leader. Their entire team goes without metal so they can use electric spells without getting hurt. And this is their leader and said [Lightning Mage]. Hello, Alais.”

She reached out. Alais gingerly gave her a one-armed hug. She blinked as Ksmvr extended his hands, but shook them.

“Yvlon. It’s good to see you…I thought we wouldn’t meet. After I heard about Liscor—but I did hear your group was back. Ceria.”

She nodded at Ceria. The half-Elf vaguely remembered Alais, but not as well as Yvlon. She nodded back. Alais blinked again at her and Yvlon, looking far more surprised than Ceria would have thought. Well, after Liscor…but she didn’t bring it up, like Caddin. He was still staring at Ceria. Ksmvr didn’t notice their feelings. He was speaking cheerfully, and Ceria was glad of that.

“It is a pleasure to meet a [Lightning Mage]. May I ask if you are superior or inferior in magical capacity to Captain Ceria?”

Pisces gently coughed next to Ksmvr.

“I believe the term is [Aeromancer], Ksmvr. And asking about inferiority and superiority is considered a social flaw in most circumstances. A pleasure to meet a fellow [Mage].”

He stepped forwards as Alais and her team focused on him. Yvlon and Ceria both held their breath, but Pisces seemed to have taken Yvlon’s words to heart. Perhaps too much so. He instantly approached with a hand outstretched and a charming smile.

“Captain Alais, is it? My name is Pisces. I’m delighted to meet you. I’m a [Mage] from Wistram. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”

It was a joke about Wistram [Mages] and their hard-to-work-with natures at times. Alais’ eyebrows shot up and there was a chuckle from the other adventurers. Whatever awkwardness had persisted from Caddin spotting them vanished in a second. Alais reached out and Ceria bit her tongue as she shook Pisces’ hand.

“I’m very pleased to meet you. You’re a new part of the Horns of Hammerad along with, er, Ksmvr here? Are you a general [Mage] or a specialist of some kind?”

Pisces smiled apologetically.

“I’m afraid I haven’t reached that degree of specialization with my [Mage] class. However, I do practice a bit of fencing. Perhaps I’d make a good [Spellsword]? May I assume your team knows ours, or at least Yvlon and our captain?”

He indicated Ceria politely. Alais looked at Ceria and Yvlon.

“Oh, of course. From nearly two years back. We’ve worked with…Yvlon’s old team a few times. And I know Ceria’s old team. Where are my manners? Come and sit with us.”

She gestured towards their table. Ceria followed Pisces as he sat down next to Alais and her team. Somehow, she and Yvlon were at the edge of the table while Pisces and Ksmvr were in the center. Of course, they were the unknown quantities. Caddin was asking Ksmvr exactly what he was while Pisces listened to Alais introduce her team.

“…and that’s Caddin, of course. We’re a mix, mostly [Warriors] and [Archers]. Not really [Hunters] for all we look the part. You see, it’s about my magic. I’m a specialist. Nothing like a Wistram-trained [Mage] in terms of quality, of course, and I’ve got some [Warrior] classes as well. Not exactly a pure [Mage], right?”

She shot Ceria quick glance. The half-Elf sighed. Wistram [Mages] did earn their reputation for snobbishness. But Pisces was shaking his head.

“Practically speaking, a pure [Mage] is quite inflexible. We should all have some means of defending ourselves, if only to fight foes capable of using anti-magic effects. My fencing is as much hobby as for self-defense, which is a necessity among [Mages], wouldn’t you agree?”

The [Aeromancer] was nodding eagerly, forgetting the others as she talked craft while Ksmvr tried to explain what an Antinium was, from his perspective.

“Of course. But it’s a tricky line. I’m good with a staff, but as an [Aeromancer] I find it’s hard to avoid electrifying metal. You see, I’m self-taught, so my team’s had to learn how to use non-metallic weapons…”

Alais looked embarrassed, but Pisces shook his head.

“It’s quite understandable. I wouldn’t dare to fire off a [Lightning Bolt] spell around Yvlon. Wistram does teach control, but electrical spells are extremely hard to control given how fast the currents move. If we have time, perhaps we could exchange lightning form techniques? I might not be able to cast Tier 3 spells, but I do have some knowledge of spell theory I could compare…it would be a pleasure to learn from someone with practical experience, however. I find Wistram students often fall behind people with field experience…”

“You son of a Creler.”

Ceria mumbled to herself as Pisces instantly charmed Alais and the other adventurers. And somehow, he even seemed partly genuine to her. But she knew he was still putting on an act to make a good first impression. She didn’t know if she hated or was grateful to him for it.

And she’d forgotten how likeable Pisces could be if he tried, damn it! Ceria watched him play the humble [Mage] from Wistram so well she nearly forgot to take part in the conversation. Yvlon, who’d waited for the introductions to finish, leaned in.

“It’s been a while, Alais. How’s your team been? We haven’t seen each other since Liscor. Has anything big come your way since then?”

Alais looked up. She frowned and Caddin and the other five looked up as well.

“Nothing to say, Yvlon. We earned some gold, but we spent it getting some new equipment from a [Carpenter]. You know how it is. Wooden swords. Maces, clubs, wooden arrows. We’ve been keeping ourselves busy.”

Ceria raised her eyebrows. That was hardly an answer. Normally any seasoned adventurer would have a story to tell, or complaints about money lost. Yvlon frowned, but someone else approached their table.

“Hullo there. Is that Yvlon and Ceria I see? Mind if I stop by?”

That voice was familiar. Ceria twisted. Her face burst into a smile. She shot to her feet.

“Stan! Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

An older man in his early forties was standing by the table. He wore chainmail and had a dagger at his belt along with a small, brown pouch, but he didn’t carry any other obvious weapons. He let Ceria hug him and then shook Yvlon’s hand. He stared at Ceria’s skeletal hand for a second and then at her face, before nodding to Alais.

“I didn’t think to see you today, Ceria. Yvlon. It’s—quite good to see you two looking so healthy.”

Caddin shifted. Ceria blinked at Stan. Normally he’d be bursting to ask her questions, like someone half his age, but he was more reserved as well. Her stomach twisted. Had someone passed away recently?

“How’s the team, Stan? Are the Boltspitters well?”

“Us? We took a few bad injuries, but nothing to speak of. Lailli’s laid up with a broken foot, but we’re working to keep her fed in the meantime. Who are these two? I heard you’re named Ksmvr?”

“That is correct. I am Ksmvr.”

“Pisces.”

The [Mage] stood up and shook Stan’s hand. Ceria smiled as she waved at Stan and the two members of his team sitting at their table.

“This is Stan, you two. Crossbow Stan. He’s the only Silver-ranked adventurer around here that has anything like a nickname. He’s a bit of a legend locally—he’s got his own fighting style too!”

Ksmvr looked very interested.

“Really? Please elaborate, Captain Ceria.”

“Why not let Stan explain. You love that, don’t you Stan?”

The adventurer smiled. He touched his belt and the bag at his side.