Chapter 12 – The Resistance

When Daos’s vision returned, he was in the Lyr graveyard. It was late afternoon.

He saw two figures walking away. The Meisters? They held another form between them.

“Hold up!” he shouted, running up to them.

Oric and Atmos were carrying, or trying to carry, a flailing man between them. The man looked like he was screaming, but only hoarse sounds escaped his throat.

The relief that had begun to surge through Daos at the proof that they’d succeeded died quickly at the sight of the poor man.

“Let me help you,” he said, getting another arm under the body and helping the professors transport him back to the Academy.

Frederic slept the entire first day in the healing ward of the University as mages periodically cast spells to help mend his psyche as best they could.

Daos sat next to the man through it all. It would be another day yet before his friends arrived back in Lyr.

In the morning, Daos saw the man’s eyes flutter open. Another hoarse breath escaped his cracked lips, and Daos held his head up with one hand, placing a cup of water before his lips with the other.

Frederic took a small sip and sighed, leaning back into the pillow once more.

“Has he awakened?” a baritone voice asked from behind Daos.

He turned to see the Shaman who’d been helping to heal the man’s mind standing there.

“Just long enough for a sip of water. Asleep again,” Daos answered. “Is there nothing else you can do?”

“I have reached the extent of my capabilities. It’s up to him, now,” the Shaman said, then took his leave.

Daos dozed in the chair for a couple hours, startling awake when he looked over to find Frederic staring at him from where he lay.

“Locking lips, eh?” Frederic giggled. “Locking lips, yeah.”

“What?” Daos said.

“Duck when the chandelier screams,” Frederic responded with a sage nod and his eyes opened wide. “Duck, when the chandelier screams!”

He repeated it three more times before closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep again.

He’s lost his mind, then. For the best, no doubt. I can’t fathom the trauma of what he’s endured.

Frederic was still sleeping soundly when Daos awoke the next morning. Expecting his friends’ return, he made his way to the Academy mess hall.

He had just finished eating when he heard Erlandra’s voice.

“Man of the hour, right here,” she said, clapping him on the shoulder. “The meisters filled us in on Frederic. Thanks,” she added softly.

“If only I could do something heroic without dying, I’d be on to something.”

She snorted. “Still a noob.”

Chopper and Nadia were all smiles as he stood to greet them.

“I heard voices, before I died,” he said.

“DeathLag’s scouts. Whether they were tracking us or stumbled upon us I don’t know, but we took them out,” Erlandra said simply.

A crow cawed above Daos, and he looked up to find it perched on the chandelier above him.

Suddenly, a pain pricked the side of his neck, and he reached up with his hand, pulling away a dart that had stuck into him there.

He opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words.

“Assassin!” Erlandra shouted as she looked up to the rafters.

The chandelier shrieked. Why didn’t I duck?

Daos’s body hit the floor but he didn’t feel it. He was already numb.

The sounds of battle once more filled his ears, but he couldn’t turn his head to find his friends. Arrows flew above his head from all directions. Occasionally he’d see an arm pass by his view.

Frederic’s a Seer! Crazy, but a seer. He told me to duck…

His thoughts were muddled, and it became harder to form new ones in the fog that invaded his mind.

[You have died]

I am So. Damn. Tired. Of dying.

**** **** ****

Daos opened his eyes to the statue in the graveyard once more.

“Home sweet home it seems, eh Valkyrie? I should put a bed here, a chest to store my things,” he told the winged statue.

“That’d be right silly, would’nae it?”

“Nadia,” Daos smiled, turning around to find her waiting there for him. “How long have you been here?”

“Oh, does’nae matter,” she said, her hands behind her back. A small smile played upon her lips.

“You’re acting awfully coy,” he said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Am I now?”

“What do you have behind your back?” Daos asked, stepping closer.

She leapt back, moving like a dancer, and landed on one foot as she pulled a sword out from behind her and spun, twirling it above her head.

“Good job, you move well.”

“Did the Dim take ya too long, then? I’m a Bladesinger now, ya daft dolt!” She laughed and flung her blade into the air. It spun twice, and she deftly caught it, spinning it once more around her hand before holding it out in front of her like a fencer.

“You got a Unique Subclass? I thought only Outsiders could do that, that’s awesome!” Daos exclaimed.

“I did too! But here I am! And what with the respawnin’, I guess more than we thought has changed about me.” Her grin was infectious.

Daos forgot how upset he’d been about dying again in a heartbeat. He moved forward to give her a hug.

“Congratulations,” he said.

She leaned back from him, then put her face to his and kissed him.

Locking lips, eh? The memory of Frederic’s voice played in his head.

When the kiss ended, her freckled cheeks were red. Fairly sure mine are too. To hell with it.

He kissed her again. Softer, this time, and she chuckled when he pulled back.

“Come on then, we best be getting’ back, the others be waitin’.”

He smiled at her and took her hand as they walked back to the Academy. “We should probably set out for Fyr today.”

“In the evenin’, love. They’ve their affairs to settle here in Lyr, first.”

Right, me too. I need to go see Erick!

“Actually, I need to make a quick run up to my mentor’s shop,” Daos said as they came to the intersection of High Street and Brewer. “Meet back at the Academy in a couple of hours?”

“Aye, I’ll let the others know.”

He squeezed her hand and smiled. “See you soon.”

The afternoon air was crisp as he made his way to Erick’s station. Does Velli Machia have four traditional seasons?

“Been longer than four days,” Erick said in greeting as Daos approached the workshop.

“Yeah, apologies. Had to save a guy who was forced to burn in lava for all eternity.”

Erick stared at Daos like he wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. After a moment, he shrugged. “Well you’re here now in any event, still want to make that gray robe?”

“With black and white striped cendal lining, yes.”

“Grab those shears there. Let’s see what you can do without my help this time.”

“Yes sir.”

The chatted while he worked and Master Erick prepped some of his other projects.

“Have you heard what’s headed this way?”

“I’m sure as a member of the council, I don’t have any inkling what you’re speaking of, Daos,” Erick replied.

“You’re on the council? Just how big is it?”

“I am. There’s about sixty of us. And I’m not happy with the decision about the problem we’re not discussing right now.” Erick spoke softly, not letting his voice carry.

“Neither are we,” Daos said in agreement.

“We?”

“Let’s just say there’s a resistance forming.”

“You’re going to get a lot of people killed. Lyr’s bending the knee, Daos.”

“We won’t be resisting in Lyr. You think DeathLag is going to stop here? No, he’s going to sweep over everything west of the mountains. We’re heading to Fyr later today.”

The Master Clothier was quiet for a moment but had stopped folding fabric as he contemplated something. Finally, he spoke.

“I’ll send a messenger to Fyr as soon as the lich’s army arrives at our gates, to let you know.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Good luck, kid.”

“Thanks, old man.”

It ended up taking almost three hours, but Daos walked away easily blending into the crowd, thanks to the gray cloak covering his multi-colored patchwork robe.

He couldn’t discern any additional protections offered by the cloak, but Erick had informed him it could hold one enchantment.

That was good news, though visual access to black, white, and gray had been the primary motivation for its creation. Enchantments are exceedingly expensive. I may wait and pick it up as my second profession.

Meister Oric, Nadia, Erlandra, and Chopper were waiting for him at the south gate.

“Your brother’s not coming?” Daos asked the professor as he approached.

“The council must be here to turn the city over to that monster, so… no,” the old man replied somberly.

“Sorry to hear that. Everybody ready?”

They nodded, then set off for Fyr.

**** **** ****

“Daos, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Meister Oric said, slowing his pace and forcing Daos to match it, increasing the distance between them and the others.

The city of Fyr could be seen in the distance. They’d been walking for two days, having camped in the same woods Chopper and Daos had traversed on their trek to Lyr.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Your Chromatyst path. Tell me about it.”

“I’m not sure what there is to tell. The spells I can cast at any given moment are based on what colors I can see.

“And yet you can cast your bolt and shield without seeing purple. There was no purple in the woods when we fought the spiders earlier.”

“Well, I figure those two spells were taught to me before I got my Unique Subclass, so I kept them. I’ve tried casting my newer spells without a color, and it doesn’t work.”

“What about the wand?”

“What about it?” Daos asked, not following.

“Can you cast a spell without it?”

“I haven’t tried. I was told it was needed to channel the magic.”

“And for every mage I’ve ever known, that’s true. But, well, here’s my theory. I propose to you that the color itself is your channel. That you draw upon the hues in the environment and that the wand is simply making it easier for you.”

“I suppose it’s worth testing that,” Daos said with a shrug, uncertain why it was such a big deal.

“Haste me, then. Something non-aggressive so we don’t attract any attention.

Daos held up his left arm in front of him, where he could see the yellow tiretain patch on his sleeve.

Haste – Oric.

The color in his vision faded slightly, as if the contrast had been turned down, but the Meister’s eyes lit up as the spell took effect.

“Wonderous!” the professor exclaimed. “You can cast without a physical conduit!”

The older mage clapped his hands together, causing Daos to chuckle.

“I mean, this is good to know so thank you, but I’m not sure it’s as impressive as you seem to think.”

“Daos, my boy, consider what this means! What if you were captured by DeathLag’s army? The first thing they take from a mage is their wand or staff. Think about it!”

That’s true, and a significant advantage.

“In that case, all the more reason to continue using the wand. This stays between us. Anyway, I’m not sure I can cast all that much without the wand. Everything sort of went dull there when I cast. I’m only starting to get my normal vision back now.”

“Hm, so you can perform without it, but only to a certain extent, then,” the man rubbed his jaw. “Well, we’ll experiment another time. Thank you for satisfying my curiosity.”

“No problem. Come on, Fyr’s just ahead, let’s catch up.”

As they walked through the gates, Daos was happy to see the town had fully repaired itself from the barbarian invasion. Life had returned to normal, and he was amused at how busy he’d originally thought this town to be, before setting foot in Lyr.

“Okay,” Erlandra said, turning to the group as they stopped just inside the gate. “We should all visit the Academy together and get them up to speed so they can start preparations. After that, however, I need to head to the sewers and speak with the Rogue’s Guild.”

“Chopper an’ I can talk to the Warrior’s Guild,” Nadia offered. “I haf’ta check on Roddard first, though,” she said in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Alright then, Academy it is,” Daos said.

Daos had expected to feel like he was coming home when he stepped into the grand hall but the feeling eluded him. I guess I was only here, what… two days? It seems like forever ago.

He kept the gray cloak closed over his robe as he watched the mage students walking and chatting between their classes. Brown, blue, green, and burgundy robes filled the hall.

No one gave them a second glance as they made their way to Meister Reichart’s office.

Way to live up to the intellectual egotistical stereotype, guys.

The corridor was empty as they reached the professor’s office.

Daos knocked.

“Enter!” the voice sounded overly theatrical.

He swung open the door to find Meister Reichart sitting behind his desk. As he began to rise to greet him, Daos motioned him down.

“You may want to stay seated for this, Meister,” Daos said.

They had planned to have Oric enter last. Being on the short side, he was hidden behind everyone as they filed into the room and stood next to Daos.

“And who are these…” the Meister’s voice trailed off. “N-Nadia?”

Nadia smiled. “The very same.”

“How?” He looked from her to Daos.

“Meister, these are my friends, Chopper and Erlandra. You already know Nadia. And,” Daos added, stepping to the side so that Oric could step forward, “Meister Oric.”

Daos was certain if Reichart had been standing, he’d have fallen back into his chair with a thump. The man’s jaw was slackened, hanging open as if he’d seen a ghost.

Which, in a way, I suppose he has.

Daos glanced at Oric, seeing that the man was virtually glowing with amusement at his friend and colleague’s reaction.

Chopper stepped back to close the door so they wouldn’t be interrupted.

Daos watched Reichart’s mouth work, trying to form words, for a few seconds more, before speaking for him. “How did a Meister of the Academy and a Blacksmith of Fyr come back from the Dim?”

The professor nodded, mouth still agape.

“Your student here came and rescued us,” Nadia explained excitedly.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly the plan, Daos thought, his cheeks flushing at the praise in her voice. The plan was to get an admin to talk to a god. I thought we were going to start at the beginning?

“Quite,” Oric continued. “The only Outsider ever to brave the Dim, an impossible feat I assure you, but there he was, interrupting my clouded eternity and asking where his blacksmith was.”

My, blacksmith? Come on old man.

Nadia’s grin only grew bigger at the words, though, so Daos stayed silent.

“The only Outsider to speak with a god,” Nadia added.

Oh lord, here we go. I’m not the hero here, guys. Erlandra is. Chopper is. I’m the sidekick. The lowest level. All I do is die… Maybe dying is my superpower.

Reichart finally found the strength to rise, and he walked over to grasp arms with Oric.

Friends, reunited. Step one, complete. Now with his help, we’ll get the Academy behind us.

“Oric, Nadia, I simply don’t have words,” Reichart said softly, for the first time not sounding like a drama coach, but a man brimming with real emotions. “I’m so glad you’re back. So awfully glad.”

“As are we,” Nadia said, still smiling.

“Now that the tearful hellos are out of the way, there’s much to discuss. We’d best be started,” Erlandra interrupted.

“More? More than the miraculous resurrection of two people I hold dear? I’m sorry, your name is…”

“Erlandra,” Daos said. “You remember, The Rogue?”

The Meister froze.

Daos remained calm, allowing him work through the facts. The Rogue was here. She was standing with Daos, his student, who was fine. Meister Oric and Nadia, two of his friends, were with her as well. He didn’t have all the facts.

Each thought was writ upon his face as Daos watched him cycle through them.

“Much to discuss, indeed,” Reichart finally muttered. “Come, pull up chairs, though I’m not sure I have enough,” he said, returning to his own on the other side of the desk.

Nadia, Oric, and Chopper each took a chair. Daos stood off to the side and let Erlandra take the lead.

After admitting that much of what Reichart had heard about her was true, she gave a brief explanation of how she’d defected, come to meet Chopper, and sought build a resistance to stop DeathLag’s destruction of the world.

Daos stepped in to explain about Niccolo speaking with him, and ultimately guiding him to Chopper and Erlandra, that the god seemed to think the three of them were key to defeating DeathLag.

They left out the part about Nilchi and how the entire world was built by Outsiders. Nilchi had gotten word to Chopper that while he’d be communicating with the A.I. on an encrypted channel, he’d need to limit his interactions with the three of them as it would attract attention.

“Well, that’s quite the… quite the tale,” Reichart finally said as the words obviously still struggled to settle in his mind. “And Machiavelli, he’s how you went to the Dim and returned? The power of a god at your side?”

“You make it sound more awe inspired than it is,” Daos said. “He’s kind of annoying sometimes.”

“I heard that”, Niccolo’s voice sounded in Daos’s head.

You didn’t correct me.

There was no response.

“Can you do it again?” the Meister asked.

“Go to the Dim? No. That was a one-time thing. At this stage, what was apparently only highly improbable before, is now legitimately impossible.”

I can’t really explain that developers on the outside are now actively programming the Dim, waging a code war against the god, trying to wrest control of the environment away from him.

“I see. A pity.”

“You’re up to speed, now. Will you call the heads of the Academy to a meeting?” Erlandra asked, slightly impatient. “We’ve other guilds to get this message to and an invasion to prepare for.”

“Yes, I’ve just sent a mental missive to each of the officers of the Mage’s Guild here at the Academy. However, if what you say is true, we need all of the guilds there. We will convene in the grand auditorium in two hours. I do not have any contacts with the Rogue’s Guild, but I can get word to the Warrior’s.”

“I’ll handle the Rogue Guild. Two hours, we’ll be there,” Erlandra said, and promptly walked out the door.

“I’ll swing over to the trainin’ grounds then, ya?” Chopper stated, rising from his chair.

“I’ll join ya there, after I check on me forge,” Nadia added.

“Well then, I’ll leave you professors to it. See you in a couple of hours,” Daos said as he turned to join his two friends.

“One moment more, if you will, Keeper Daos,” Meister Reichart requested as he rose.

My full title? You haven’t used that since I arrived. Daos paused and turned back to Reichart.

“Gray is not the color of a mage robe,” Reichart observed after Chopper and Nadia exited the office.

“What do most Keepers wear, then?” Daos asked.

“Being a Keeper is distinct from one’s advancement through the ranks, so they normally accent their existing robe in some way.”

Meister Oric excused himself, wanting to get his office in order after Reichart told him it hadn’t been repurposed yet.

“Ah, well, I can’t exactly advance the normal way, can I? I needed something new,” Daos said.

He undid the clasp at the front of his cloak and let it unequip into his inventory, revealing his patchwork robe.

Instead of the laughter Daos expected, Meister Reichart stepped forward, and then walked around him, to inspect the handiwork.

“Resplendent,” he said, completing his circle and coming to stand before Daos again. “I love it. Absolutely brilliant! Though,” he added becoming mockingly serious, “you’ll be laughed out of every mage gathering for certain.”

Daos allowed himself a chuckle. “What does a Keeper Chromatyst need those guys for, anyway? I’ve got a Unique Path, I’m a lone wolf now, right? Out to forge my own way, and all that.”

The Meister grinned at him. “Exactly right.” He clapped his hands together. “I’ve got to prepare the auditorium. I’ll see you there shortly.”

Daos left and considered heading to the forge, but he wanted to give Nadia time to work through everything, and given his limited interaction with Roddard, didn’t want to risk upsetting the man further. It was sure to be a shock to see his mentor alive and well.

He made his way to the Warrior’s Guild, hoping to meet up with Chopper.

Just inside the entryway was a small gladiatorial arena. Must be where Chopper unlocked Maniac. He could see a few fighters practicing and sparring, and so walked up into the stone bleachers to sit and watch.

“Get ya some o’ this, then, ya?” Chopper said and Daos looked over to see him approaching with two meat pies, one of which the Irishman held out to him.

“Oh, thanks. I completely forgot lunch,” he said as he accepted the pie.

Turning back toward the ring, they watched Nadia enter, talking with one of the older trainers as she walked.

Daos bit into the pie and enjoyed the savory spices blended into the meat as he watched the redhead explain something to the older fighter. She stepped back from the man and drew her sword, and began gracefully executing a series of moves, like a martial artist practicing.

The first local to earn a Unique Subclass. Can’t blame her for wanting to show off to her old teacher.

Her sword arm seemed to flow through the air as though it were water, and she danced on her feet, twirling, and leaping as the sword spun around her. She threw it up into the air and dashed under it as it spun, turning to catch it deftly with her left hand and thrust it forward, then let go to swoop her body under it and grasp it in her right hand before it hit the ground, then bring it up in an arcing strike on the other side of her body.

Wow…

He glanced at the other fighters in the ring. Many were performing the same motion again and again, working it into their muscle memory. Something tickled at his mind as he watched.

I remember doing similar things, before, when I needed to learn a motion in other avatars. I want to say ‘macro’, but I can’t for the life of me remember what it means. The word seems so foreign now, on the tip of my tongue, just out of reach.

He almost formed the thought that he was becoming more fully local, unable to remember his previous life, but shoved it away before it could take hold. He wasn’t ready to chase that psychological train of thought. Not yet.

“Warrior’s Guild leader’s on board, ya? Right bastard, that one, but he’s a sword arm thick as my skull, he has,” Chopper said, licking the last of the pie’s gravy off his fingers.

They watched as Nadia finished her dance and came to a resting stance in front of the old soldier. He stepped forward and grasped her arm, likely congratulating her on her new Path.

When she looked up at the risers, Daos gave her a wave and she sprinted up to greet them.

“An’ just how long have you two been up here then?” she asked.

“Long enough,” Daos answered. “Your form is beautiful.”

“A bit like dancin’, innit?” she replied with a smile.

“I wouldn’t know,” Daos admitted. “How was the forge?”

“Me other apprentice, Coira, took over operations with Roddard after me death. She’s nae a bonnie lass, so threw herself pure dead into the work in me absence. Dinnae know what to make o’ me, back from the Dim as I was, but the forge is good and fine,” she explained.

“What about Roddard?”

“I dinnae think he noticed me gone ta be honest,” she chuckled. “He was just as happy as ever ta see me though, an’ that was nice.”

“You two may be happy out, but it’s about time we get ta the meet-up, ya?” Chopper interrupted.

“Point,” Daos acknowledged Chopper. “Shall we?” He motioned for them to head down the steps, taking Nadia’s hand as they walked and chatted quietly about the forge and its future while Chopper took the lead.

While she hadn’t stated it outright, Daos had the distinct impression that she intended to stick by his side, even after the invasion. If there is an after… And if there is, I’ll come right out and ask her to travel with me. But this isn’t a movie. Right now, we focus on DeathLag, and simply take our pleasure in the moments where we can.

**** **** ****

The auditorium was almost completely full. Daos was surprised by the turnout and looked to Meister Reichart for an explanation.

“Word spreads fast among Mages, and besides,” the Meister opened his hands to the group of them, “who wouldn’t want to see a hero who breaks bread with gods, heroes who have been to the dim and back, and someone who escaped the clutches of the very lich that haunts children’s dreams?”

“You make this sound like a drama for the ages. You’re having a bit too much fun with this, I think,” Daos said with a small smile.

Reichart placed a hand on his chest, affecting mock shock. “You wound me, Keeper. In all honesty though, we let word seep out and gossip take root, knowing it would spread like wildfire. The more ears there are to hear, the more voices there are to raise support. We mustn’t make the same mistake as Lyr and let a small selection of individuals decide life or death for the city.”

“Let’s hope you’re right,” Daos said, suddenly feeling nervous. He’d never been on a stage before, let alone in front of so many people.

They weren’t all mages, either. Military men and rogues alike filled the sides of the room. Front and center sat one of each. The heads of each guild, I presume.

In the middle was an older, bald black gentleman. Lines creased his face, and his burgundy robe was adorned with golden filigree.

“Grand Meister Talosh,” Reichart said, seeing where Daos was looking. “To his left, Commander Eddart, leader of the Warrior’s Guild. To the right, Lady Keshar, who leads the Rogue’s Guild.”

“Just in Fyr, or in all of Velli Machia?” Daos asked, recognizing he’d never determined how guilds work in the world.

“Just Fyr,” Reichart answered. “Each guild runs itself independently within its own city but acts like a network with their counterparts elsewhere. Members of one are members of all, so to speak. Okay, looks like the room is full. Time to start.”

“Break a leg,” Daos said.

The professor quirked an eyebrow at him, confused, but walked out onto the stage.

Apparently not a line he’s familiar with.

“There’s a lot of people out there,” he said as Erlandra stepped up beside him.

“I know. I hate it.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re in the spotlight now, Rogue Leader.”

“You did not just call me that.” She glanced sideways at him.

Not a Star Wars fan, then?

“I thought it fitting. They call you The Rogue, as if there’s only one. And you’re the whole reason this resistance effort is going to exist. That makes you the leader. You defected from the enemy. You formed a mish-mash band of rebels into a squadron. Face it, you’re Rogue Leader.”

“Call me that again and I may have to kill you.”

“Been there, done that. Threw the shirt out, though. I wear robes.”

“You’re such a noob.”

“Aw, you do like me,” Daos said and smiled at her.

“Tch,” she made an annoyed sound and moved away from him.

“You two are like siblings,” Nadia said, taking her place at Daos’s side.

Daos looked down at her. “She did kill me, the first time we met.”

“Oh haud yer weesht and get oan wae it,” she said, nudging him toward the stage.

Meister Reichart had apparently just introduced him, and was looking at him, waving him out. Right. Erlandra’s the leader, but I’m the mage and this is the Academy.

He looked at Nadia as he took his first step. “I literally don’t understand a word you just said.”

She laughed and pushed him out from behind the curtain.

He managed to recover, stumbling only slightly as he stepped out onto the stone platform in front of what looked to be every mage in Fyr, and a good number of fighters and rogues.

There were whispers, pointed fingers, and chuckles as he approached Reichart, as he’d been asked not to wear the cloak. The lighting above the stage, created by magic so as to illuminate everything equally, made his colored patches shine.

“Keeper Daos, who helped defend Fyr against the barbarian horde,” Reichart began theatrically, “who discovered the Unique Path of the Chromatyst, who is the first man to brave the Dim and return!”

Reichart paused, as if expecting applause, but carried on when there was none to be had.

Daos felt his cheeks grow warm.

“Keeper Daos worked hand in hand with the creator god Machiavelli, to traverse the Dim and retrieve two of Fyr’s own.”

The murmuring in the crowd picked up.

“His coming is quite fortuitous, I assure you all, but before I explain that, please welcome back to the Academy, Meister Oric, and back to the Warrior’s Guild, Nadia Crowe!”

There were a few claps, but many, many gasps, and whispers as Nadia and Oric joined the two mages on stage.

The warrior in the middle of the front row stood. “This is trickery,” he said as he looked from Nadia to Daos. “The jester here is using some kind of magic.”

“Oh yer aff yer heid, uncle,” Nadia shouted down to him. “Mayhap ‘tis been a few years, but ya dinnae know yer own niece, now?”

Grand Meister Talosh reached up and placed a gnarled hand on Commander Eddart’s arm, urging the man to sit back down. He whispered something as the man sat, and Eddart gazed back to Nadia with awe in his eyes.

“As I was saying,” Reichart continued, “Keeper Daos, with the help of Machiavelli, went into the Dim and recovered these two souls. But that is not all!”

The Meister paused, waiting for the din of the crowd to die down.

“There will be time enough for reunions after, if you please, but now we must turn to a more somber topic. In a matter of days, the monstrous lich known as DeathLag will march out of the mountains and take the city of Lyr.”

Now, shouts and exclamations could be heard from the back, but Daos noticed that the three guild leaders at the front did not react to the news.

They knew, then. And yet, they allowed Reichart to say it, so they must not be as ready to bend the knee as Lyr.

Meister Reichart huffed and then became still, closing his eyes and humming softly.

The crowd calmed.

Neat Mesmer trick...

“Before we bring forth even darker details, there are two more souls you must meet. Before the last one comes on stage, I beg you – hear her out. She is not who you have all been led to believe, and I am convinced that she, and her friends, are the only ones who may yet pull us from the darkness that threatens our world.” The Meister raised his arm to the side of the stage, welcoming Chopper and Erlandra.

“Some of you know Chopper, the Maniac of Fyr,” Reichart said.

A few hoots and hollars came from other fighters in the back, and Chopper waved to them.

“Many of you know our last guest, Erlandra, only by her other title.” The Meister paused for dramatic effect. “The Rogue.”

Here we go…

It took a moment for the crowd to catch on. A second of silence, two, three. Two people in the back row stood from their seats and bolted out the back door as others began to understand who exactly she was.

The noise intensified, at least a hundred people standing, shouting, starting to draw weapons.

Gripping his staff, the Grand Meister used it to pull himself up to his feet, then raised it high and slammed it down on the stone floor.

A visible shockwave of pale blue pulsed through the crowd, and he turned to face them as they quieted.

When he spoke, his voice was aged but clear and amplified, filling the room. “Consider for a moment, friends, the three of us here.” He motioned to Lady Kalosh and Eddart. “Think you all that we would invite the prime assassin of DeathLag to our hallowed halls, if she were truly still in his employ? No? Then let us continue.”

Man knows how to command a room.

Meister Reichart cleared his throat as the Grand Meister reseated himself. “Erlandra has news for all of us. News that we have need to hear and take to heart, for it has already changed the life of those in the East and soon will for those in Lyr. Listen well, friends.”

The Meister stepped back, giving Erlandra the stage.

I bet she’s hating every moment of this. Is it wrong that I take some small pleasure from that?

“It’s true. I was the lich lord’s prime assassin as his army engulfed the Eastern Empire. All who stood in his way were slaughtered, including those of us under his banner. On us, he took gruesome vengeances for the slightest hint of dissent, of betrayal.”

So, she can speak like a leader, after all.

Daos watched the room as she spoke and realized that some of the Outsiders in the room were waiting patiently, yet slightly bored, the way one waits for a local to finish talking so they can accept a quest.

They think she’s a local! They probably think we’re all locals. Reichart hadn’t introduced us as Outsiders. Other than the name, nobody has yet denounced DeathLag as one. We don’t move like Outsiders anymore, either. We move like we belong, and pace ourselves, since we don’t have to accomplish things before leaving the world. These Outsiders think this is the start of a quest. We can use that…

“He has lost all sense of what it is to be human. What it was, to be human, now. His humanity was stripped away during his transformation to a lich, and he burns only with the desire to eradicate the god, Machiavelli, and send all of creation into the void.” Erlandra paused, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

“I know of only one who has ever escaped him fully. Another, who tried, and paid for it, with his sanity. His generals cannot be reasoned with. When they enter Lyr, the city will bend the knee, and still he will slaughter many as a warning, ensuring that all others cower in his wake. When the city is taken, he will turn his sights on Fyr.”

Murmuring began anew, and Daos could hear a few whispered voices expecting an official quest to be issued soon about the invasion.

Erlandra waited a moment for the chatter to die down, then continued. “If Fyr falls, the remainder of the West will fall shortly after. It is up to us to stand against him, to show everyone on this side of the mountain, that we must not give in willingly; that the skeletal monstrosity DeathLag must work for it, must wade through battle after battle, if he is to challenge the gods themselves.

“I say to you all, we stay strong on our paths. Rogues, warriors, mages. Different guilds, different schools, different goals, but one thing rings true for us all. This world is our only world, and we must do everything we can to stop DeathLag from destroying it.”

When Erlandra paused for longer than a beat, Meister Reichart stepped forward again.

“And so, I present to you, denizens of Fyr: Erlandra the Artificer Rogue, Daos the Chromatyst Keeper, and Chopper the Maniac Warrior – your resistance!”

Roaring cheers and thunderous applause exploded throughout the auditorium at the dramatic pronouncement. The Outsiders in particular, eager for a battle on such an epic scale, hooted and hollered from the back rows.

“Can we get the fuck off of this stage, now?” Erlandra said through gritted teeth to Reichart.

“Everybody, one and all, if you please!” the Meister shouted, raising his hands to quiet the crowd. “We must away to plan, but rest assured war is approaching, and in the coming days we will announce the formation of battle parties and begin training. Prepare yourselves. It will be a fight such as none have ever seen!”

The final shouts were mostly from Outsiders at the last proclamation. The locals just looked to one another with terrified acceptance of what was coming.

Reichart motioned to the others, and they all walked off stage together.

Once beyond the curtain, Erlandra’s shoulders slumped and she sighed, running one hand through her hair.

“Well said out there, boss,” Daos said, not quite ready to throw his previous, and more preferred, title at her again just yet.

“How the hell did I become this,” she muttered to him.

“By standing up to the greatest villain Velli Machia has ever known, outsmarting and escaping him.”

“I didn’t outsmart him. He destroyed me, rendered me less to him and his generals than a rat.”

“Yeah. But he let you leave. You survived. You rebuilt. You met us and formed this resistance. Smart guy, this DeathLag,” Daos said, trying to keep the mood light in despite the facts. “And you shed The Rogue namesake. You’re the Artificer Rogue, now. The only one.”

She exhaled and quickly turned her head away, but Daos had seen the start of a smile forming on her face.

“Hey, you there, Daos!” a teenage male voice called from the stairs that led to the auditorium exit.

Both of them turned and watched two Outsiders hopping up the steps toward them. A warrior, and a blue-robed mage girl.

“We’re locals,” he whispered to Erlandra and Chopper, who had just arrived at his side. Neither acknowledged him but he was certain they heard.

“We want in this epic fight,” the warrior said.

“As the Meister explained,” Daos said trying to sound formal, “missives will go out to Outsiders and locals alike as we complete preparations.”

“Can’t you just give us the quest now?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, young warrior.”

“Tch, just let it go, Kyle,” the mage-girl said. “Come on, the system will send us the quest when it’s ready.” She pulled at his elbow.

He gave Daos one more long, hard look before giving in and turning to wrap his arm around the shorter mage’s shoulder.

“You see how stupid he looks? You won’t have to wear a shitty robe like that, will you?” Kyle whispered to the girl as they walked back down the stairs.

Daos shot a glance over to Chopper. “Can you believe we used to be like that?”

“I was never that daft, na” Chopper replied with a grin. “Want me I should keep an eye on ‘em, then?”

“Him, at least. Kyle. Not sure I care for the way he looked at us when we turned him down. Never know what kind of Outsiders will be more interested in the villainous side of a storyline, after all.”

“Boss?” Chopper asked turning his attention to Erlandra.

She nodded once, and Chopper casually loped off behind the two Outsiders.

“See? Welcome to your resistance, Rogue Leader,” Daos said with a smart-ass grin.

“Shut up, noob.”