The journey from the Sacred Garden to the Great Palace of Sonadin took the better part of an hour - not because it was such a long road, but because the young hero was so captivated by what he saw along the way that he couldn’t help but stop every few minutes to admire his surroundings.

“I take it this is the first time you visit our fair city, Sir Beacon?” Asked Captain Robert. The group had just finished the short uphill march from the garden and came to a stop on a grassy plateau that commanded a nearly 360-degree view of the city, as well as its encompassing mountains and valleys.

Ben nodded slowly. He was aware that his mouth was slightly open in amazement, but he didn’t mind. “It is, my good Captain. And I think ‘fair’ is hardly a befitting word to describe what I’m seeing now. I am humbled by the beauty of your kingdom.” He noticed Red hiding a smile after hearing the scout’s choice of words - words that seemed to come easily to his mind. I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that my Diplomacy Skill has risen to 10, he mused. The encounter in the garden also awarded him with boosts to his Bluff and Daggers skills - raising them to 15 and 9 respectively - and Ben idly wondered which of these three skills would prove to be the handiest in the next hours of gameplay.

The Captain smiled proudly and said no more. He took a step back together with the commander of the palace guards - a stern man of few words - and let Ben stand with his two companions in relative privacy for a couple of minutes. And so they stood at the top of that green hill, silent, with just the chill wind gently ruffling their hair. The musical chirps of birds from the garden behind added a magical touch to that serene moment.

“It is beautiful,” murmured Ben. The trickster scout felt as if he had just stepped into a painting. The hill they had just topped was a few hundred yards outside the large city’s outer walls and Sonadin, which sprawled before them, seemed to start where the mountains ended. Its design and layout could be described as medieval, for lack of a better word, but Ben didn’t think any city in any era could achieve this kind of magical grandeur in real-life. Sonadin boasted a myriad of gentle, thin spires that soared up and even higher, as if each spire was competing against its brethren in an effort to touch the sky. Sunlight painted the spires in pink, red and orange - and with each passing moment, the colors that were reflected from the marble and glass changed with the position of the setting sun, giving the impression that the city itself was morphing in front of their eyes. Alive. Breathing.

Among the spires were rows upon rows of houses, shops and other establishments, great and small. Some of the buildings were low, some rose several stories high and a few were nearly as high as the spires. Gardens, green and lush and full of majestic trees, were in abundance and Ben counted three inner circles of walls and guard towers. People milled around in the streets and in the gardens and in the large squares, going about their daily lives. Horses and carts were everywhere. Soldiers - clearly visible in their green and black uniforms - stood atop the walls, ever vigilant.

Commanding everything and everyone was the Great Palace itself, boasting its own spires, walls and watchtowers. It seemed to be chiselled out of the stone of the mountain it was leaning against and was so big that it rivalled the very summit of the ridge. Huge sculptures of human warriors with greatswords and spears flanked the Palace on both sides, as if daring anyone to approach, and next to the northernmost warrior was a great waterfall, spilling out of the mountain in a powerful rush that could be heard even from where Ben stood, hundreds of yards away. The rapid white-foamed water created a wide river that twisted and snaked behind the city’s outer walls, separating Sonadin from the hill on which Ben and his friends stood. A stone bridge - one of several - connected the hill to the main gate of the city. When Ben turned around to look at where they had come from, he saw the beautiful garden and the three huge golden trees - so tall that even after their climb he still had to tilt his head to see how far up they reached.

For Ben, whose VD experience up to that point amounted to prison cells and dark dungeons, seeing the open land above the surface in such a fashion was no less than mindblowing. “I find it hard to believe this is all only in our heads,” he said in awe. “Raxlon is truly…”

“A master,” said Milenna. Strands of her raven black hair danced along her beautiful face and her flawless skin was painted in a golden hue with the setting sun. To Ben’s eyes, she looked as much a part of the painting around him as anything. “He’s an artist,” she continued. “The Raphael of VD. The best weaver of virtual worlds that ever lived.”

Ben never met any other VD master, but he had to agree: this was amazing. He scanned the view once more, feeling very romantic - he even entertained a brief thought of putting his arm around Milenna’s shoulder, which he quickly dismissed - but then his face darkened. “Captain,” he said briskly.

Robert stepped closer. “Sir?” He smiled. “Do you want me to describe the different parts of the region for you? The eastern ridge is part of the Shemds Mountains, and the river around the city is White Foam. The Valley to the west is where the Ronadin Forest begins - “

Ben waved a hand, dismissing the guided tour. His Scholar title supplied him with much of this basic knowledge, not to mention the history that was buried in his mind together with the forgotten identity of a dead virtual hero. “I am familiar with the layout of the land,” he said. “However, I am curious about the south-western part of the city. See there? The one with no spires.” He pointed to a small rectangular area that looked much less radiant than the rest of the city. There were no shiny spires there - like a patch of forest that was brutally cut down - and the buildings looked low and sad. And he could see what looked like big cages crowded in a small square. Cages with people inside. “What is that place? Who are the people in the cages?”

Robert frowned. “I am… surprised that you can see that area from here, sir,” he said. Ben didn’t see the need to explain his Perception powers to the man so he simply looked at him, waiting.

The Captain cleared his throat. When he spoke, it was in a low voice. “It is the Punishment Square,” he said slowly. “Or the Bane of the Elves, as some people call it.” He passed a hand over his bald head. “Dreadful place, if you ask me.”

“Bane of the Elves?” Milenna, who was squinting at the direction Ben was pointing, turned her head toward the captain and raised her delicate eyebrows.

Robert nodded. “Once it was used for public hangings and such, but for the last couple of years it is used mostly to hold… em, elven spies.” He whispered the last two words and looked around him as if expecting such a spy to sneak at them and kill them all.

A line appeared on the sorceress’ forehead. “Hold them?”

“Yes, ma’am. Until they’re broken and freed.”

The line deepened. Milenna’s beautiful face darkened dangerously. “Broken?”

The captain licked his lips nervously. “Ah… I don’t - I mean - I’m not sure I’m allowed to -” Drops of sweat appeared on his forehead, despite the chill in the air.

Ben was about to demand answers but stopped when the commander of the palace guard stepped forward, accompanied by a squad of soldiers in black uniforms. He was a tall man with a bushy grey beard and drooping dead eyes. Ben identified him as no less than a level 9 warrior, and, judging by the way his calloused hand grabbed the hilt of his shortsword, he probably knew very well how to use it.

“We should keep going,” said the man in a flat voice that matched his expression. “The lord awaits.”

Captain Robert swallowed. “Indeed! We should do as Commander Hayet suggests. Unless the Beacon has other questions?...” He looked at Ben almost pleadingly.

Ben had a feeling he would need as many allies as he could get once he entered Sonadin, so he just shook his head, though he kept his face stern and unsmiling. “None, at the moment. Let’s go, Captain.” He made sure to address only the Captain of the Sacred Garden and tried to ignore Commander Hayet - though it proved a challenging task; his body itched as his heightened sense of danger demanded he turn to face this potential foe.

The rest of the way to the city passed in relative quiet - which Ben was actually thankful for as it gave him a chance to think and plan ahead. He kept stopping time and again, seemingly to admire the view - while in truth he accessed his personal logs to glean as much info as he could about the city, its history and its ruling lord.

First, he accessed one of his very first log entries - the one that was saved in his interface after Raxlon had introduced their Quest for the first time, back in the prison cells. It contained what was commonly referred to in D&D as a “quest instigator” - the event that occurred before the adventurers (or rather, their players) ever met, which was the reason for their quest. In Ben, Red, Shiraz and Milenna’s case, it was the reason they found themselves locked up in Sonadin’s underground jail compound. Ben had read it before but it wasn’t really relevant to most of what was happening - up until now. It was also the only thing in his VD experience that was totally out of his control - something that his character had supposedly done, but Ben had no recollection of. A flaw in the VD design, in his opinion. He shrugged, and read:

You have been caught by the local militia after breaking the curfew of the city of Sonadin and committing serious blasphemous acts. Your weapons have been confiscated, and come the morning, the guards promised there would be a trial to decide your judgement. They also said that the lord shows no mercy for strangers that break his laws, so...

Ben smiled to himself, remembering that moment after he met Red, when both of them heard for the first time the booming voice of Raxlon. He clicked on the words “blasphemous acts” and was rewarded with more text:

You were in the presence of a renegade street bard, who weaved a supposedly blasphemous tale about the Engill - declaring them the rightful deities of Nolxar and claiming it was wrong of the other races to denounce them and turn to other gods - supposedly false ones - in their stead. The Sonadin militia caught you applauding the heretic singer and you were accused of heresy and thrown into the city’s jails.

Ben sighed. Simple story, yet efficient. He didn’t think it will help him in any way when confronting the lord of the city, though - it was old news and many things happened during the two days that had passed - so instead he focused on what was more likely to give him an edge: the history of Sonadin and its twin city, Ronadin.

“Beacon, sir? The gate guards are waiting, sir. If you please.”

Ben blinked, startled. He was so engrossed in digging into his mind and searching his memories that he didn’t see the others were waiting for him by the city’s large gates. They had crossed the bridge and were now standing in front of a massive stone arch that easily dwarfed Paris’s Arc de Triomphe. The city’s outer walls extended both ways from the arch, nearly 200 feet high, and two watchtowers flanked the arch, manned by two guards each. Four more guards in green-black uniforms stood on the road beneath the arch, their backs straight, their spears held ready as they watched the newcomers beneath their helms.

The arch itself was nearly as wide as it was high. It was made of huge boulders of white stone and had drawings carved along its flanks, outlining the trees that were the mark of Sonadin. The Gate of the Three Trees. Ben nodded and braced himself to what awaited him on the other side of that arch. “After you, Captain.”

They stepped into the shadows beneath the arch, the gate guards silently letting them pass. Ben could feel their eyes on him and wondered if they, too, recognized him for what he was. Unconsciously, the young hero straightened his back and rearranged the crossbow on his back as the group passed through the city’s gate and into the city’s compound.

Once they were inside the city, Ben found it hard to stop smiling. How many times did he imagine himself visiting a true DnD city in the flesh? Well here he was, not truly in the flesh but as close as one could get… and the experience was everything he had ever imagined.

Sonadin, as Ben well knew, was the biggest human city in the Mountain Kingdom, supporting a community of smaller towns and villages that nestled in the mountains. It was also a flourishing merchants hub, as traders stopped here in their travels across the mountains - be it in order to reach to northern districts of Nolxar, the coastal cities along the southern sea, or the land of the elves to the west. The result was a bustling and lively city, full of colors, music and scents - and people of various races. While they were mostly humans, Ben could see dwarves, halflings and even a few half-orcs among the inhabitants of the large city. He could see no elves, but he glimpsed what could only be a couple of minotaurs one time, walking proudly with huge axes strapped to their backs, and the little fellows in the bright clothes who huddled together and pointed straight at him could only be gnomes.

The gnomes weren’t the only ones who were pointing. Ben wasn’t sure who started it but a few minutes after their entry to the city, as they crossed one of the colorful squares - full to bursting with merchant stalls and street artists - the first cries of “Beacon!” started spreading among the population. And once that started, it seemed as if everyone living in Sonadin wanted to take a look for themselves at the legend who had entered their city. The score of black-uniformed guards around them, led by the expressionless Commander Hayet, convinced most of the onlookers to keep their distance and make do with pointing excitedly from afar. But nothing could stop the children.

Apparently the world prompt that appeared the day before had not skipped the children of Nolxar and, upon seeing the man from the image in their minds casually walking down the street, some of the kids just couldn’t help themselves. A girl, who couldn’t be more than 6 years old, ran past the guards, easily evading their grasping hands, and ran straight to Ben, stopping in front of him and jumping with her hands up and a huge grin on her face. “Beeeee-con!” She cried in excitement. “You’re him! You’re him!”

A guard moved to shoo her away, but Ben stopped him with an outstretched hand. Aware of the hundreds of eyes upon him and the hush that fell on the crowd, he knelt next to the girl and smiled. “I am,” he said and marvelled that even this child - clearly a lowly NPC and not supposed to be anyone of significance - was so real-looking. “What’s your name, kid?” Up close, he saw that she had a dirty face and her clothes were little more than rags.

The girl stopped jumping and was suddenly looking shy. “Maya,” she said in a small voice. Then her eyes lit up and she bit her lip. “Can I touch you?”

An idea popped into his head and Ben didn’t hesitate. Having been a street urchin himself he could easily identify poor people - children, especially - and this girl, albeit a virtual one, could definitely use a bit of help.

Ben made a show of considering the kid’s plea, screwing his lip in thought while digging into a pouch at the same time. When he finally held out his hand to the girl, his fist was closed. Maya, her eyes big, reached out and tentatively touched the back of his hand with one finger - and Ben turned his hand over and opened his fist.

The girl gasped, opening her mouth in shock. On the hero’s palm lay a gold coin with the sigil of the broken arrow embedded in it. It glittered as it caught the rays of the setting sun. Ben heard a few gasps from the crowd.

Maya’s hand hovered over the coin, hesitating.

Ben edged his hand forward. “Take it, kid,” he said softly. “It will be our little secret.”

The girl looked at him with big eyes for a few moments. Then, quick as a cat, she grabbed the gold coin, turned around, and ran away, actually passing beneath the legs of one of the guards. A group of other small kids ran after her, shouting and wanting to know what the “man from the ‘gods-message’” had given her. Was it really a coin? Was it gold? Did she really touch him? Did he feel real? Their shouts faded as they drew away into another street and Ben stood up, smiling and blinking hard.

“You know, if it were anyone else, I would have thought this cute little act here to be a purely strategic move.” Milenna came to stand by him, eyeing him thoughtfully. “An act of kindness to win over the love of the people. I’ve seen it before.”

Ben returned her look and raised his eyebrows. “How do you know I didn’t do it for those exact reasons?”

The sorceress smiled. “Oh, other than the fact that your voice is hoarse and your eyes are glistening? Jeez Ben, I don’t know. Call it a hunch.” She lingered just a few seconds more, her deep purple eyes full of feeling, and walked away to join Red’s side. Ben stared after her.

The rest of the way passed without any more incidents, though now, after his meeting with Maya, Ben seemed to notice much more than he saw before - mainly, the fact that Sonadin had its fair share of street urchins. They remained mostly in the alleys or peeking behind carts and barrels, but he saw them. All he had to do was look past the line of finely dressed noblemen and women, past the flamboyant merchants, the stone-faced soldiers and the cocky-looking mercenaries. The city’s poor were abundant, which came as a sharp contrast to the beauty it tried to project.

The palace soon came into view, looming majestically over the wide paved avenue they were crossing. Ben had the feeling that with every step he made, another facet of the huge palace was revealed to him - as if the mountain was constantly sprouting spires, towers and statues. It was both impressive and disturbing at the same time.

“Hey skin,” said Red, who appeared by his side. The warrior seemed to have a blast during their hike through the city, waving and smiling at the commonfolk, talking amiably with the guards and even stopping once to drop a coin at a street vendor and grab a big chunk of what he termed ‘the best freaking apple pie I’ve yet to try in VD’. Now, though, his face looked troubled.

“What is it?” Ben asked, noticing his friend’s expression.

Red lowered his voice. “I saw another one,” he said and grimaced.

“Another one?”

“Another player,” said the mercenary. “The last one from our original group. He was lurking in the shadows behind some stalls, but I saw him alright. Black robes, long dark hair. I recognized his face, he sat with us around the introduction table. And if I’m not mistaken…” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m pretty sure he sat next to that blond barbarian chick. I’d bet my money that they’re friends. Or at least that they came in here together.”

Ben took a deep breath. The confrontation with Gilly in the garden left a bad taste in his mouth and he wondered if this player would prove as troublesome as the furious Amazon. “Keep an eye out for him,” he said in a low voice. “The players here don’t seem to hold me at much regard for some reason and I don’t feel like dodging another arrow in the near future.”

Red grunted. “Aye, sir. As you command.”

Ben looked at him sharply. “I didn’t mean - “ He began, but Red only winked. “Yes you did, but think naught of it, fierce leader. We are here.”

Ben turned his head and saw that indeed, they were approaching the foot of the first large stair that led up to the palace. Standing on the stairs was a small group waiting to greet them: two men and a young woman, surrounded by another platoon of black-clad palace guards.

The man on the right was a bearded fashion disaster, even in the eyes of Ben, who knew nothing of fashion. He could count at least twenty different colors crisscrossing his britches and his tunic, making him look like a human garden of flowers amidst the black guards around him. He also had a white cloak and a white plumed red hat and was holding a mandolin.

To the left stood a pretty girl, short in height, about fifteen or sixteen years old. She wore a tight blue outfit, cut at the shoulders, and a silver headband chain encircled her thick auburn hair, complete with a blue gemstone on her forehead. Even from where he stood - some forty feet away - Ben could see that her face was full of freckles, and for a mad moment, he thought he was looking at Shiraz. The moment passed quickly, though: the girl was pretty and freckled, but that was where the resemblance ended; she was much younger than his lost shadow mage, and shorter by at least a head.

Ben gulped and looked at the man who stood between the other two. Obviously, this was the ruler of Sonadin, Lord Viridion Darkblade himself. He was fortyish, tall, bearded and clad in black and gold. A sword lay at his waist. He was looking at Ben with a smile, but before the scout could say anything, Viridion gestured toward the colorful man at his side. “Bard Endrin,” he said loudly, “begin!”

The bearded bard bowed and straightened, raising his mandolin high and looking around with a grin. Ben noticed that behind them a crowd had gathered - some of the Sonadinian people who followed them across the city. Everyone seemed expectant and thrilled, their eyes locked on the colorful troubadour.

Endrin started to play - and sing. His voice was both strong and melodic, and Ben started smiling when he heard the first words.

“Welcome, oh he of mysterious depths!

A hero we find on the foot of our steps!

Vincidator he is or so the prompt tells!

A Beacon for sure, so ring all the bells!”

The man suddenly jumped, somersaulted in the air with an ease that put Ben’s Acrobatics skill to shame and landed on the stone floor below the stairs, straightening before the crowd. Miraculously, he wasn’t holding a mandolin anymore - but two silver bells, one in each hand. He shook them and the air was filled with their merry jingle. The crowd gasped and some people applauded, while others laughed. The bard advanced toward Ben, jingled his bells and sang:

“Lord Darkblade - long live! - has asked me a boon!

To write a few words and a suitable tune!

‘Make the new Beacon feel welcome’, he said!

Let him feel alive, it is better than dead!”

The jingle stopped abruptly with the last word as the bard made the two bells vanish with a flourish. People gasped and someone shouted in alarm, for now the bard was holding a long dagger in each hand, the blades shining and giving off what could only be a magical aura.

It was Ben’s turn to gasp and he even took a step back, his hand going to his own dagger. By his side he saw Red reacting in the same way, though Milenna stayed calm, a small smile dancing on her lips. Around them, the crowd hushed in anticipation. Ben could hear dogs barking in the distance, a child weeping, the croak of a raven.

The bard gave Ben a long, penetrating look with his strange purple eyes. Then he made the slightest of movements and now he was holding the daggers from their blades, presenting them hilt-first to the scout. The flamboyant man took another step forward and finished his song:

“A song I composed for the sake of the thrill!

A gift I now offer to show our good will!

Accept our daggers, and show us your mark!

Protect us oh Beacon, our light in the dark!”

As if on cue, the sun vanished behind the horizon and the large square was thrown into darkness - which was just as quickly gone as several street lamps were lit, most likely through magical means. The crowd oohed and aahed as the bard went down to one knee and raised both of the daggers toward Ben. His cloak fluttered behind him, with the insignia of the three trees bright and golden on the white fabric.

Ben felt very foolish as he edged his hand away from the hilt of his own weapon. He glanced at Red and saw the man frowning, his hand still on his sword hilt - the warrior obviously disliked the exaggerated theatrics and Ben had to admit it was a bit too much, even for him. You have way too much time on your hands, Raxlon, he mused.

With an internal sigh, the Beacon decided to cut to the chase and mimicked the bard, kneeling as well and bowing down his head, completing the ancient ritual to reveal his Hero Mark. This time, though, he didn’t speak the formal words nor did he wait for confirmation, simply standing almost as soon as he knelt. Glancing sideways, he saw that the bard was still kneeling and offering him the daggers, so Ben smiled and took both of the blades from the man, identifying them as magical weapons that could come very handy in a fight against a magic user:

Daggers of Dispelling (set), Level 8 A successful strike with both of these masterwork blades can dispel one or more active spells from the target, as long as the spell’s level isn’t higher than the weapon’s. Charges: 8/8

Ben’s smile turned into a grin. It was an amazing addition to his inventory.

“I see you like our welcome gift,” said a deep, pleasant voice.

Ben raised his head and saw that Viridion and the young woman had descended the stairs and joined them. Up close, the Lord of Sonadin looked every bit the noble ruler one could expect from a D&D setting. He was taller than Ben, well-built, and there was no denying the intelligence in his dark eyes. Dangerous, indeed. Ben wasted no time before identifying him.

Viridion Darkblade, Lord of Sonadin Race: human Level: unknown Class: unknown Powers: unknown Everything else: unknown, duh.

Ben smiled to hide his irritation - duh? Really? - though he had to admit he didn’t really expect to gain any true knowledge through his Identify skill. Here he stood before the true boss of the entire area, and he could only assume the man’s level was at least twice his own, and that was an optimistic assumption.

Viridion looked at him, looking slightly amused - as if he knows I’m trying to identify him - so Ben bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. “These truly are fine weapons, my lord,” he said. “And Endrin here - “ he looked at the extravagant singer who rose to his feet - “is a very talented bard. I am humbled by your song and gift.” He hoped he wasn’t overdoing it and had to resist the will to look at Red, who most likely was doing his best not to laugh out loud.

Viridion smiled. “Indeed,” he replied. “Endrin has outdone himself this time. And I hope these daggers would serve you well in your coming adventures, Beacon,” he put a slight emphasis on the word ‘adventures’ and there was a twinkle in his eyes that made Ben immediately suspicious. Before he could say anything, though, the Lord of Sonadin gestured at the young woman by his side. “May I introduce my daughter, Valla. She was quite anxious to meet you, Ben.”

The scout turned to look at the short girl. She couldn’t be more than 5 feet tall and was quite pretty. He could see now that, in addition to her sparkling blue headband, she also had a silver nose ring and three more round silver earrings on her left ear. Her eyes were light blue, her lips full, her nose small. She had an appealing figure - if somewhat stocky - but there was something about her… his skill triggered again:

Valla Darkblade, level 4 Race: half-human half-dwarf Class: Earth Mage Powers: Basic earth spells, Earth Resistance, Resilient HP: 18

Half a dwarf! And an Earth Mage besides. There was a story there, and Ben made a mental note to find out as much as he could about this half-dwarven princess. “I’m honored to meet you, Valla,” he said at some length and gave her a warm smile.

The girl didn’t smile back. She gave a somewhat clumsy curtsey, as if she wasn’t really interested in these manners of the court, and when that was done, she straightened and looked at him with those big azure eyes. “I have to talk to you,” she said briskly. “Can you come and see me after you finish with my father?”

Ben was taken aback, but it was Viridion who reacted first. “Valla!” He exclaimed, turning to face his daughter. “Where are your manners! I told you not to - “

The half-dwarf shrugged. “Sorry, father. I had to use this chance to speak to him.” She didn’t sound sorry, though, and kept looking at Ben. “Will you? Come to me?”

“Valla!” Viridion said again. “Ben, don’t worry about her. She forgot herself, obviously - “

Ben was momentarily lost for words, as he hurriedly contemplated how to play his cards. He could ignore the girl and perhaps win her father’s respect, or he could grant her request and perhaps gain an important ally. Looking into the lord’s daughter’s eyes, Ben decided to use his Sense Intent power, figuring he might as well learn if she was true or false in her intentions toward him.

The feeling that filled his body was warm. It was nothing like what he felt when he’d used that power on Milenna - it didn’t make him dizzy in any way - but it was still a positive sensation that filled him with confidence. Whatever this girl wanted from him, she had only good intentions in her heart.

The trickster scout made his choice. “Sure, Valla. As soon as I’m able to.”

For the first time, the girl smiled, turning immediately from pretty to beautiful. “Thank you, Beacon,” she said, somewhat breathlessly - Ben realized she was holding her breath - and turned to face her angry dad. “I’m sorry for my rude behaviour, father.” She curtsied again, clumsy as before, but didn’t wait for a response. Instead, she turned away and ran up the wide stairs, toward the palace.

Viridion looked after her and when he turned back to Ben, he sighed. “She’s my only daughter, so she knows I will forgive her. I hope you will, too, Ben. Now,” he continued before Ben could say anything else. “We were in the process of introductions and I would love to meet your companions who, as I hear it, have the qualities of heroes themselves. You,” he looked at Red, “I already know by reputation. The Red Mercenary, isn’t it?”

Red puffed his chest. “That I am,” he said. “I’m also the Beacon’s First Companion and his loyal protector.”

Ben blinked at that but didn’t say anything. The rules of the game were changing, and he guessed Red was trying his best to play his part.

The Lord of Sonadin smiled. “Of course you are,” he said and turned to Milenna. “And you are…” he seemed suddenly lost for words. Ben could well understand him - looking into Milenna’s blue-purple eyes could be more than distracting.

The sorceress stepped forward. “I am Milenna, my lord,” she said in her most alluring voice. “The Beacon’s magical shield, if you please.”

Ben grimaced. Did these two plan this together? Looking at their cocky smiles, he suddenly knew that they had indeed.

Viridion’s eyebrows rose a little. “I am pleased,” he said. “I’m also impressed by - “

But Milenna wasn’t finished. Her smile was gone when she posed her next question. “I would like to know, my lord, how it is that you know the Beacon’s name. It was never mentioned in the world prompt.”

Ben suddenly froze. Milenna was right. The prompt presented his picture and stated he was the Vindicator of the Depths, but his name was never mentioned. How did Viridion know?

Viridion looked nonplussed. “Ah,” he said calmly. “That would be because I was told as much by one of your friends, sorceress Milenna. A barbarian woman that goes by the name of Gilly Starborne.”

Ben’s lips twisted in anger. “Her? She tried to kill me,” he said through clenched teeth. And almost succeeded.

The lord looked at him and pressed his lips. “I have… heard. Quite unfortunate, the way she tried to use her guest privileges to fool my guards.” At that, he turned a glare toward Captain Robert, who paled considerably.

Ben noticed and spoke quickly. “Captain Robert is not to blame, Lord Viridion. I am, however, curious to know exactly how Gilly knew to wait for me by the waystone at the exact right time... my lord.”

The Lord of Sonadin gave him a long look. When he spoke again, there was the slightest tone of threat in his voice. “That, my Beacon friend, is a mystery to me as well. I can only assume it was one of those things you… adventurers... are capable of doing.” The way he said the word suggested it held some hidden meaning. Which, of course, it did. “I would also appreciate it if you inquired no more on that matter.”

Ben considered using his Sense Intent power again but decided against it. The man was too high-level for him and he didn’t want to risk his power being rebuked. Even so, he had the feeling that the man was not telling the whole truth.

Seeing that Ben wasn’t going to answer, Viridion put on a disarming smile. “Well, friends. If these unpleasant… distractions… are behind us, let us move forward to the main event.” He raised his voice and turned to the crowd. “I hereby declare this date, day 27 of the Month of Rebirth, as the Day of the Beacon!” he cried.

The crowd cheered and Viridion continued: “The palace will hold a party tonight in celebration of the arrival of the Vindicator of the Depths to our city! I invite all the good people of Sonadin to take part in this time of joy and lighten our city with merriment! Party on, Sonadinians! Show the Beacon what we’re made of!”

Endrin’s mandolin was in his hands again, and the air was filled with music once more while the people around cheered and hooted. Some even began to spontaneously dance. Viridion started walking up the stairs toward the palace, gesturing for Ben and his companions to follow. When Ben did, the lord grinned at him and raised his voice to be heard over the tumult. “Nothing like a good party!” He shouted.

Ben didn’t answer. The main doors of the palace stood wide open as the group made its way up the stairs and the trickster scout suddenly experienced the same feeling he had had before he touched the waystone back in the dungeon. A sense of foreboding.

Viridion kept on his grin. “When we’re inside, we’ll finally be able to speak about the true reason I invited you in here,” he said.

Ben tensed. “The true reason, my lord?”

When Viridion looked at him, the light from the nearby lanterns danced in his dark orbs. “Now that you accepted my city’s welcome, it is time that you uphold your end of the bargain, Beacon.” They arrived at the doors and the Lord of Sonadin gestured for the scout to enter first.

Ben stopped, hesitant. “My end of the bargain?”

Viridion put his hand on the small of Ben’s back, urging him forward. “The bargain you signed when you became Beacon. The true essence of the Pact of Heroes,” he said. The doors swallowed them in, leaving behind the music and the dancing. Leaving behind freedom. “I need you to do what only a hero can… you must complete a Power Quest.”