Shadow

Shadow loved the Frontier.

When you left the last bastion of civilization behind and ranged into the ever-expanding wilds that stretched boundlessly beyond the reach of the so-called gods, what you found was a purity of purpose unrivaled anywhere else in the realm. Here, the only mandate was to survive, by any means necessary.

For Shadow, however, it also presented an endless opportunity to learn new things.

The rules were looser out here, by necessity. The monsters were far stronger, as were the people who strove to push them back.

So it was natural that he'd tried to dig into the person who'd tipped him off and sent him there. He'd always been curious. It was part of his Path to know, and then know more, and then dig deeper to discover still more. Yet with all of his curiosity, and with all the digging he tried with this new "quest giver," for lack of a better term, he found nothing.

After the Brightside incident, he wasn't exactly eager to get into bed with someone he didn't know. He wasn't against doing bad things. He just wanted to know why, and for whom, he was doing the bad things.

Finding nothing, then, was maddening.

So why was he still out on the edge of civilization, braving the Frontier at only Tier 4? Because there was the promise of something so great, so grand, so genuinely remarkable, that he couldn't outright ignore the opportunity either.

Shadow arrived at the furthest outpost on the Eastern Frontier with a purpose: to find and obtain a mysterious object only recently discovered. Other than the informant he'd hope to meet here, how he'd manage that task had been left up to his discretion.

Packed tightly within the wooden, but still tier-5 walls, were all the essentials of an outpost--and nothing more. Only a handful of vendors' stalls, a restaurant, two bars, and three places that offered to rent rooms (or just beds) by the hour, night, or week. The outpost provided none of the usual amenities of the realm, possessing only what was strictly necessary. In part, this was because space was at a premium here. There hadn't even been a graveyard outside the walls, unlike the previous three outposts he'd passed through.

Here, Shadow was one of the lowest-leveled people in sight, barely eking out the vendors--and not even that was always true. As he walked into the only bar with an actual sign out front (it depicted a map's corner with a dagger stabbed beyond its edge), there wasn't a soul below tier 5.

"You lost?" the bartender, a gruff, one-eyed human woman with a wicked scar down her left cheek, asked as Shadow slid onto a stool.

"Depends on if you're Krystal or not." He'd used [Identify], of course, and thanks to his newest upgrade, he'd gotten a lot of information from it. But it still wasn't able to provide that particular detail without confirmation.

[?, Human, level 92 [T5], imperturbable barkeep]

"What did your little tier-4 scan tell you?"

"Not that," Shadow admitted. He did like the woman's Class though. There was a lot to be said for not getting ruffled, not to mention it's high tolerance for pain. "What do you have to drink?"

"Spirits that'll strip the skin hair off a horse."

"Sounds like a start," Shadow said as he split off three [Shadow Clones] and hid them within the darkness by the three entrances he'd already identified. One went just outside the front door, the next crept into the back room where the beer barrels were stored, and the final blended into the darkness of the door hidden under the steps.

"Nervous?" the barkeep asked, eyes flicking toward where each of his clones had gone.

"Just careful," he replied.

Two transparent glasses appeared on the bar beneath her hand, and two perfect, effortless pours later, one slid his way. The dark brown liquid didn't spill so much as a single drop. "What do you want with Krystal?" the woman asked.

"No offense, but I'm not going to share our business openly," he said, watching the woman's face closely. There were tiny fluctuations around the edges of her lips, in the corners of her eyes. If he was reading her correctly, she was pleased by his reply.

"You're the type to keep your cards close to the chest, eh?"

Shadow let his cloak open slightly, just enough so that he knew the handles of at least four of his daggers would be visible. "No, I keep other tools close to my chest. Cards I always keep on the table." He tapped the side of his head, preempting her question. "I've got a really good memory."

The woman lifted her glass from the bar, letting the liquid slosh against the sides slightly. But Shadow did notice that she hadn't yet taken a drink.

Of course, neither had he. He lifted his own glass to mirror her motions, meaning neither brought their glass close enough to even sniff its contents.

"Ballsy for a tier 4. Hmph. I might be able to help you," the woman said.

Then speak the code phrase, he wanted to say. Still, he would not turn away any leads. Shadow rubbed his thumb across the fingers of his empty hand, producing three gold coins between them on the second pass. "I'd be thankful if you could." He placed the coins flat against the bar.

She stared at him then with such intensity it actually made him uncomfortable, almost as if her single eye was piercing all his defensive layers. She hadn't even looked at the coins. "Wouldn't it be nice..." she began, leaving the words to trail off.

Shadow inwardly sighed. The phrase at last. "If there were a few less gods," he finished.

The tension visibly drained from the woman's shoulders, though she did not speak right away. Instead, she tapped on the wooden bar three times, which caused some sort of invisible barrier to spring up around them. Shadow wasn't sure what it was exactly, because even with his enhanced magical perception, which he then boosted further by activating [True Sight], he couldn't see it. But he could feel it, and it felt like she'd somehow cut their small room off from the rest of the realm.

The woman lifted her glass. Shadow continued to mirror her. Then, as one, they drained their drinks in one swallow.

"It won't be easy," Krystal said.

Shadow was struggling to keep his face blank as the liquid burned all the way down his esophagus. "It never is," he said, barely repressing the cough that was fighting its way upward. "But from what I hear, it will be worth it."

"Especially if what Bronco said proves true. Though keep in mind, he was well into his fourth round when he said it."

Shadow looked at his empty glass. "Fourth of this?"

Krystal laughed, and for the first time a real, full smile spread across her face. "No, {Legendslayer}. Bronco drinks the strong stuff."

The cough escaped at last, and Shadow shook his head, eliciting another laugh from the bartender. He asked, "So you haven't gotten to [Identify] the item then?"

"I have not."

"But you think what he said is reliable?"

"I wouldn't have sent word so quickly otherwise."

"When was that report made?"

"About a month ago."

Shadow forced himself to lean back some, to appear to any onlookers that this was just a normal conversation. But if what was said was true... A sliver that can cut through anything, the report had said, even tier 6 stone. The whispers of his blades grew loud, eager to see what new prey such a thing would allow them to hunt. "And where's Bronco now?"

"Out in the jungle, no doubt."

"With a party?"

"Nah, not Bronco. He's a loner. No one's crazy enough to go near him when he gets raging." She looked Shadow up and down. "Surprised that you are."

'Raging,' she had said. Shadow filed that piece of information away for later: Most likely a berserker Class. A tier 5 berserker Class. I'll have to make a stronger sedative, delay the package of my poisons, too. But at least he works alone, so I'll only have to subdue him. "What else can you tell me about our soon-to-be-mutual friend?"

"Little guy with two big axes."

"Returning?"

"Nope. He doesn't throw them. He throws himself."

Shadow sat back, watching her face and recording every single detail with [Eidetic Memory] as she continued on for the better part of five minutes. Fresh tier 5, gnome, already making waves. A berserker like Redblade: the lower his health, the stronger he gets. Reckless, instinctual, Strength-build. Can't strictly fly, but jumping is nearly comparable. Doesn't work well with others.

It wasn't the most thorough scouting report he'd ever received, but it was better than most.

"And you're fairly sure he's kept the... item... on his person?"

Krystal nodded. "He doesn't trust anything--or anyone--around here, except himself."

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Perhaps for good reason, Shadow thought, considering their current conversation. "When was he last seen?"

"He was in here last week, talking about a new ruin he'd just found. He was only running through to unload and resupply before hitting it properly."

"Tell me all about that, too," Shadow said, coming up with more plans, fallbacks, and questions with every word.

- - - - -

Tristan

Opie was fuming and got right in Tristan's face. "What did you just say?! You did not just jinx this raid! Tell me I misheard you! You better not have JINXED this FREAKING RAID!"

Tristan tried to play it off as cool as possible. "I, uh, what?"

"We're moving out!" Drannis shouted.

"Oops, gotta go," Tristan said, hopping forward and toward the portal as quickly as he could.

"You can't run away from me, Tristan," Opie was shouting. "I'm your healer!"

If there was anything else, it was lost the moment Tristan crossed through the slippery but pleasantly warm barrier and into the raid known as Cinderbark's Fall.

What met him on the other side, however, was far less pleasant.

A powerful wave of heat made his eyes tear up, even as he blinked rapidly. Wiping his eyes clean barely helped the situation, but eventually he did grow more accustomed to it. Finally able to take in the scenery, he was astonished to find himself surrounded by a flaming forest. It wasn't that there were just trees that were now on fire. Rather, these were trees whose leaves seemed to be made of fire. The colors were as varied as the forest in autumn, but with a temperature that made summer seem like a midwinter day.

That was, of course, because there was a giant volcano looming over everything before them. A volcano that looked like it had already blown and might do so again. There were already two massive rivers of lava flowing down its face, slowly but continuously oozing toward and through the forest, dividing it into three areas. And then, in the middle of that, clearly protected from the lava, standing like a pillar of hope and framing the volcano with its gorgeous foliage, was the largest willow Tristan had ever seen. It, too, was a bastion of flame, and the way its 'leaves' hung down and flitted in even the slightest breeze was so moving it was hard not to stare. Standing on a hill, it overlooked everything other than the volcano. It was clearly the centerpiece of the whole raid.

"Are we all within?" Drannis asked as his eyes clearly jumped between all of them, counting heads.

Opie was the last one through. The moment he emerged, he glared daggers at Tristan but kept his mouth shut.

"Are we not using raid chat?" Laura asked, apparently a bit thrown.

"I prefer we use our voices until the circumstances dictate otherwise," Drannis replied, looking wistfully past his shield at the flaming willow. "Tone and inflection matter a great deal, I've found."

"Indeed!" Manama said. "My whole Path revolves around the glories of oral performance."

"Whatever we choose, can we begin pulling slowly?" Kitara pleaded, practically chirping.

"Fine, fine. I'll start buffing," Manama said before beginning to sing something Tristan had never heard before, though it did seem to make the blood pulse quicker in his veins. Before too long, a new buff appeared on his display:

[Rally the Heroes] Increases damage dealt by 10%.

Well that's pretty cool, Tristan had to admit, especially once he noticed that the song itself provided a really great beat to swing his sword to.

Unfortunately, the two tanks weren't waiting, but instead were already moving away.

As Drannis neared the enemies, Cross took out a heavy-looking crossbow, resting it on top of his shield in a pose that looked very practiced, and fired a shot toward the nearest group of monsters while saying, "I'm pulling."

It was such a straightforward announcement, delivered without any strain at all--and things immediately fell apart.

The bolt struck one of what turned out to be three flaming salamanders.

As the creatures rushed toward him at breakneck speed, they left behind a trail of fire that didn't seem to be dying out at all. Drannis attracted the attention of one of the salamanders and pulled it away from the others. Clearly the tank's [Taunt] skill at work.

Kitara's bell-like voice added, "I'm still drinking mana water! Don't get out of range!"

"So drink a mana potion instead," Cross quipped.

Tristan and Xanax exchanged a meaningful look. "What do we do?" Tristan asked.

"Pray that these first mobs don't hit too hard," the scaleborn replied. "I did not bring a shield today."

Tristan considered switching out his [Oozebane Greatsword] for his [Sanguine Challenger]. Since the latter was literally strapped to his back, it wouldn't be as simple as using [Combat Switch]. He decided he didn't have the time--especially when the first salamander's opening tail swing crashed into Drannis's shield so hard it lifted the dwarf off the ground and sent him flying sideways.

It was Opie's turn to cry out, "Drannis, you're supposed to tank the salamander, not the ground! Someone kill this loose lizard before it aggroes on me. I'm the only healer until Kitara--!"

"Salamanders are actually amphibians, not lizards," the fairy druid added in a ridiculously chipper voice.

Luckily, Chessa quickly obliged, shouting, "Right! Open fire on Drannis's... former target!"

Except not everyone followed her order. Tristan, while running toward where Drannis had pulled the single salamander, saw a massive cloud form above the group of monsters Cross was tanking. Thunder boomed, shaking the ground, and bolts of lightning began to strike them.

"Not mine!" Cross immediately yelled.

Tristan arrived at the back of Drannis's salamander slightly before Xanax did, with just enough separation that Poof's magic missile actually whooshed right between them, striking the monster with a brilliant splash of pinkish light.

He decided not to get too much closer, thankful for the extended reach of his greatsword, since even at this distance the heat was enough it felt like standing atop a forge. He could only imagine how much it would burn anyone without [Heat & Fire Resistance].

As he began moving his sword through some of the rotations Jamal had taught him, trying to weave his attack skills together as best he could, he heard Cross yelling again, louder:

"No, Laura! Stop channeling the lightning before--! DAMNIT!"

In stark contrast to the beautiful melody beginning to rise up from Manama's throat, a shriek came from both of the salamanders in front of Cross as their eyes shifted hungrily toward the thunder mage--and their bodies quickly followed. Tristan tried to keep track of Cross as he chased after them while staying out of the flame trails. Unfortunately, Laura was backpedaling as fast as she could, too, and all that movement took them out of Tristan's line of sight.

"CROSS!" Laura shrieked.

"FOCUS FIRE!" Drannis commanded as he charged back into the fray. The same message came through raid chat. "MY TARGET FIRST!"

Arrows continually thudded into Drannis's salamander, as the two huge greatswords kept hacking away.

"I can only taunt one!" Cross shouted, desperation clear in his voice. "Laura!"

Then a powerful, bellowing roar filled the forest, shaking the trees around them. Tristan recognized it immediately. Somehow, in the midst of all chaos, Sophie had used her ring and swapped out Poof for Mister Biggs.

"We've got the other salamanders," he heard Sophie say, far more calmly than he believed someone should be in the situation.

During all this, Xanax had gotten much closer to the sweltering hot salamander, enough so that Tristan could actually see the sweat pouring off of his black scales, having moved directly into the flame trail. Tristan thought that was actually a great idea, considering how the ability on Xanax's sword worked.

[Bloodied Strength] While wielding this sword, your HP maximum is increased by 75%, and every time you take damage, increase the damage done by this sword by 10% against the attacker, stacking up to 40 times. Blocking, parrying, or using active defensive skills removes all stacks.

Xanax was taking damage on purpose, so he could deal extra damage back to the salamander.

"Xanax, what are you doing?" Opie was yelling. "You don't need to dry hump its legs! Get out of the fire!"

But the scaleborn was too focused on his attacks, so it was Tristan who responded. "Let him do his thing, Opie. Trust me. He does more damage because of it. Just try and heal him through it."

"Oh, sure, I'll just heal him through it! Why not? You say standing in fire increases his damage! I guess that's normal now! So I'll just keep the dragon man with a deathwish alive, but I don't understand why every time I do a dungeon, DPS decides to take a freaking bath in the bad stuff. Hey, fairy lady, can you keep the tanks alive while I support the idiot in melee that's drinking the lava?"

"Sure," came the chipper voice as Kitara flitted a little closer. "I'm good to go now."

"I can help heal Mister Biggs!" Sophie offered.

Opie slammed his staff down on the ground one last time as a bright white light pulsed out of him and encompassed the whole raid group, leaving an echo heal that Tristan noticed would last six more seconds. "Great, because solo-healing this mess has drained me. I'm out til my mana potion comes off cooldown!"

Feeling the added pressure, Tristan decided to blow every cooldown he had. He activated [Blade Echo], popped [Blade Flurry], and paired it with a jumping [Descending Crescent]. It was the biggest burst of damage he could manage.

It still wasn't nearly as impressive as the visible, glowing streaks every swing of Xanax's sword was leaving both in the air and on the monster's flesh. Brighter and brighter by the second, Xanax's sword served as a beacon, as eventually the whole blade looked like it burned with holy fire.

And then he used [Blade Flurry], sending four ground-shaking attacks into the beast with such speed that the thing didn't stand a chance. Tristan wasn't sure which of the strikes pierced the salamander's skin first, but the fourth attack was definitely the one that ended up cleaving it in two.

And then it was like the whole world became darkness, as the light around both Xanax and the salamander went out.

"What in the gods' names was that?" Laura shouted.

"My sword," Xanax began to explain.

"Switch targets," Chessa called.

Tristan definitely would, just as soon as he willed the lingering brightness of Xanax's sword from his eyes. He'd made the mistake of looking right at it just before its light seemed to go out. He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he ran, doing everything he could to clear his vision before he got to his next target.

"I must build up the buff again," came Xanax's voice, now from a few steps away.

Tristan followed, knowing the remaining monsters were in that direction.

"Yes, yes, definitely do that!" Kitara replied. "And quickly!"

"I am taunting off the astral," Drannis announced from farther ahead.

With the extra tank no longer being needed, Sophie was able to resummon Poof, which meant that Xanax's sword didn't get the chance to glow quite as brightly as it had the first time before each salamander was extinguished.

With the final salamander falling unceremoniously to the ground, the trails of fire also burned out.

Tristan looked around at all the other members of his raid, all now seeming a little shaken.

"That was just the first trash pack," Manama said dryly.

Before he could think enough to hold it back, Tristan shrugged and hefted his greatsword over his shoulder. "It could have been worse."

Now it was everyone else's turn to glare back at him.

Chessa shifted her gaze toward the tanks, however. "Maybe next time we talk about tactics before we pull?"

The half-giant shrugged and muttered something about how "it went fine."

Drannis, on the other hand, at least had the decency to look sheepish. "Yes, we can and shall certainly talk tactics."

Tristan, trying to diffuse the awkwardness, pointed to the ground back where the first salamander had fallen. "At least we got loot."

All loot privileges have been granted to the Raid Leader.

The notification was a bit jarring, but at least it accomplished the job of pulling all the eyes off of Tristan. Instead, they went to Drannis, who merely raised his chin as he began stalking toward the fallen enemy.

"I sincerely apologize for both the suddenness of the pull and any perceived rudeness in the looting rights. Both should have been clarified if not outright set from the start. I want it to be clear that there will be no trickery or partiality when it comes to loot, and we shall talk tactics much more after we distribute these items."

There was a general grunt of agreement from the others, no one seemingly bothered by the result--merely the suddenness--of the switch, as even Tristan knew that Leader Loot was a standard operating procedure. A raid leader could be essentially blacklisted if they stole loot, after all. That was the kind of black mark that could stain a reputation forever.

"Well," Manama's melodic voice cut in, "now that that's settled, shall we see what we've earned?"

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