As usual, ZEKE was a master of the understatement.

That he heard them at all was a testament to the boisterous nature of their conversation. That he heard them from nearly a quarter mile away in the sound-distorting caverns spoke volumes about their volume.

And how drunk they were.

Yet despite all the noise they made, it wasn't until Alarion was lingering at the opening of their hideout that any of their words started to make sense.

"Four mothers. Weep and despair!"

"Check his sleeves!" another man said, followed by a scrape of chairs.

"Such an accusation! Do you name me a liar?! I will have you know that the House of Liquor-"

"There is no way he's this lucky."

"Did I get caught? No. Two years and I never once had so much as an inspection. The mothers bless me in action and in cards."

"He won his last three hands by bluffing, maybe you're just that gullible?"

The rampant conversation continued as Alarion tapped and held the simu in his ear for two seconds, signaling his comrade to hold position. He'd gotten the drop on them, and the last thing he needed was Dimov spoiling the party by being spotted, even if the chances of that were fairly low.

"Who wants another round?" came the sound of a female voice, to raucous applause.

Make that extremely low.

ZEKE had been correct. Five men, one woman. They were young, he could tell that much from their voices, and they were full of energy and excitement. The party atmosphere in the adjoining room was nothing like what he'd expected to find. They weren't set to ambush him, or concerned about the Auxilia in their village.

It didn't make sense.

Alarion fished into an inner pocket of his uniform and produced the [Pocket Watch of the Heart's Desire]. One of Lal Viren's gifts to him, it had once housed Valentina's secret message, a message that had pulled him back from a very dark abyss. He kept it close to his heart, unwilling to store it within Kotone unless absolutely necessary, though he had yet to use the item's magic for its intended purpose.

Nor did he do so now.

The back of the watch was solid, unblemished silver. As far as he could tell, it could not scratch or dull or even get dirty. In short, it made an excellent mirror.

With methodical slowness, Alarion rotated his elbow until an image of the six figures at the table reflected off the back of his pocket watch. It was small and slightly warped by the watch's curvature, but it was enough.

[Human (?) - UCL ???] Strongest Equipped Item: Rank I. Common. Expected Loot: Rank I. Common.

The question mark next to the word human had spooked Alarion severely when he'd first tested his new observation skill on Bergman. Fortunately, ZEKE had explained the obvious. While the System was happy to give out that sort of information on kill notifications specifically, it generally refrained from giving information that a person had not earned, either directly or through a skill. Alarion thought the man at the table was human, so the System marked him as such, with the caveat that he might be wrong.

Alarion used his [Observation] skill on each of the remaining members of the table. Three produced results identical to the first, while the remaining two differed in significant ways.

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[Human (?) - UCL ???] Strongest Equipped Item: Rank I. Exceptional. Expected Loot: Rank II. Exceptional.

[Human (?) - UCL ???] Strongest Equipped Item: Rank II. Uncommon. Expected Loot: Rank II. Common.

A tall man and a woman, respectively. Those were the primary targets then. While he was still unsure of the criteria that determined why one man gave Rank II loot over Rank I, or common over uncommon, he had a pretty good guess. The higher their rank, the higher the rank of their loot. The better their class rarities, the better the loot rarity. ZEKE had assured him it would be more complicated than that, most loot powers were, but it was a good rule of thumb.

Six fighters, all of them Awakened, with two of them most likely rank II or close enough for the System to mark them that way. On that alone, it seemed a poor match-up, two against six with at least two rank II opponents. However, like UCL, rank alone could be deceiving. Level for level, Alarion undoubtedly had significantly better attributes. Moreover, he was Vitrian-trained and combat-tested. The training put both spell and sword at his command, not to mention the extra levels from multiple classes. At the same time, practical experience was a multiplier that could close the gap if one was behind and make it insurmountable if they were ahead. He even had the element of surprise.

"Four hands! Gullible! Gull-i-ble!"

And, of course, he was sober.

The only thing he lacked was the will to fight.

While most of Valentina's lessons were lost to time, one thing remained seared into his mind. The cost of taking a life. Even now, Alarion still had nightmares, dreams about his father's life, about Aina, the butcher, and so many others. He knew the weight of taking a life, and he was loath to do so.

There would be a fight, that was inevitable. Whoever these people were, they were no innocents. Alarion had a healthy imagination, but he could not conceive of a legitimate reason for six Awakened to be drinking in a dank cave, in a suspicious village, in the middle of a fiend infestation. No, not just drinking. Celebrating.

Yet even with that justification, even with battle looming on the horizon, he didn't want to kill them. He justified it to himself, insisting that they could be interrogated if they were taken alive, but ultimately, he knew he was trying to rationalize a deep-seated desire. One that conflicted with reality. With all the factors weighing in their favor, Alarion was confident he could win the battle, but that confidence dwindled the moment he thought about taking them all alive.

Alarion tapped and held his simu once again, urging Dimov to join him. It was what it was, and there was no sense delaying. He'd burn that bridge as he came to it.

In the meantime, Alarion retreated fully behind the wall and focused his attention inward on a specific desire. It wasn't long before the System rewarded him.

Party Crasher

Description: Premature celebration has been the downfall of many. Make sure these six are no exception.

Success Conditions: Defeat or drive off all six opponents.

Failure Conditions: Fail to meet success conditions within one day. Retreat from battle. Be defeated in battle.

Reward: One Uncommon or Exceptional rank II Quest Box (Randomized).

Penalty: Majorly reduced XP gains for 72 hours.

It had been a long time since he'd used his questing power, [Self-Motivated], for anything but the most mundane purposes, such as physical training. Months on patrol left him with nothing meaningful to 'quest' after, and even before that, the regimented nature of a military lifestyle had gotten in the way more often than not. More than once, Alarion had failed quests, even easy quests, because they had conflicted with his standing orders. Worse still were the six months he spent unable to use the skill at all because of an open-ended quest he was incapable of fulfilling.

Since then, he'd become much more selective in his use, only activating the power where he knew he'd have the opportunity to succeed. It lowered his rewards, often substantially, compared to open-ended quests, but reduced the risks associated with failure or abandonment by an even larger amount.

This was an obvious use case. He was going to fight them as soon as Dimov arrived, if not sooner. Either he'd win and be rewarded, or he'd be dead, and the penalty would be meaningless. It cost him a little in terms of possible rewards to have a victory condition more open-ended than 'kill all enemies', but with six foes and an uncertain battlefield, he couldn't be sure that he'd catch them if they fled all at once.

With that out of the way, he waited. And waited.

Just listening to them made him angry. The infestation had already killed thousands, and they were drinking. Joking. Laughing. He was sure Dimov's arrival would set off the fight, but the six were so caught up in their revelry that the boy's clumsy attempts at stealth went completely unremarked.

Alarion filled him in on the details, with raised fingers, mouthed words, and a quick game of charades when it came to describing the two high-ranking Awakened. Dimov scowled somewhat when Alarion cupped his hands over his chest to indicate 'woman', but he got the gist.

They were ready; the only question was how to begin.

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