Jennifer, Anya and Sylus arrived in Reach in an uneasy truce. Jennifer had told Anya and Sylus a greatly simplified version of the truth, stating that her ex-boyfriend was the leader of a band of nut jobs intent on killing legendary classers so that the world would be defenseless when the new Age of Terror arrived. It should have been completely laughable, but if the tiny girl with the dagger was even capable of laughter, she didn’t show any hint. Instead, she looked straight in Jennifer’s eyes and said, “mage named Manson. What’s special about him.”

Jennifer imagined that she would wet herself if this scenario happened in her world. On some deep primitive level she knew that if she decided to, the tiny girl would murder her in a heartbeat, simply wipe off her knife and continue on. Here and now, Jennifer had nothing to fear – except the loss of time which could conceivably be important to Arn. In any event, she had little to hide, so she answered with another measure of truth. “He is functionally immortal. The entire band of psychos is. On death, they disappear in colored light. The exact display is … it varies from person to person. I don’t know what his looks like, but if you’ve seen it, whether you got a notification or not, understand that he isn’t actually dead.”

Anya hesitated, for a flickering instant looking like a baffled child. In a blink, the moment passed, and a stone-faced killer continued her examination. “That’s a load of crap if I ever heard one. But it’s clear as day you ain’t afraid of my knife. And I know they are hunting legendary classers. I found a list. If he isn’t already dead, there is one up ahead in Reach. Tell me why I shouldn’t just kill you and. . .”

As Anya’s words sank in, Jennifer felt a surge of true panic and reached for Anya’s knife without thinking. Anya went from crouched over Jennifer to standing up in a single bizarre motion requiring grace not present in Jennifer’s world. “The list scares you,” Anya calmly noted. “Why?”

Jennifer answered truthfully, fighting surging panic. “My boyfriend. I have to save him. Please let…”

“Enough,” Anya said, sheathing her daggers. “I believe you. At least the parts that matter. Lets go.”

* * *

Val wouldn’t be winning any beauty contests, but he was moving, and that was something. The group had more than enough loot to pay for professional healing and buy some upgrades, but the only one smiling was Sar. Val was still in some pain, deeply fatigued, and filled with gnawing self-doubt at his failures. Death had caught him with his pants down, and any illusion he had of competence or safety was gone. Arn was only slightly better off; every step towards Reach was step towards Keana, and filled him with growing dread. He needed to know what Keana had to say, but was very much afraid to listen. Pepper, ever practical, realized that Sar didn’t need go completely off the deep end to be dangerous, and that this group was no place for a sane girl to be. Still, she would listen.

Lost in their own thoughts as the four were, the road to Reach was mostly straight and clear, so they couldn’t avoid noticing the two men approaching several hundred feet away. Still, they were quite close to Reach, and two men openly traveling towards the forest was hardly a cause for alarm. Until it was.

Arn noticed the beaming smile a second before he noticed the tattoos. Shit! The smiling man had a broadsword strapped to his back, and was clad in gleaming blue-grey chainmail, which Arn knew likely meant enchanted mithril, and marked him as well out of their league. His partner was wearing a leather jacket that was obviously too big, but was nonetheless a cut above anything they could afford, with a brilliant gem dangling on his chest. Their high-level gear spelled big trouble.

The smiling man – who apparently wanted to kill Arn – waved and said “well hello! You must be Arn! I’ve heard quite a bit about you and am very pleased to meet you!”

Arn bit back his fear and thought. They were close to Reach; likely in view of the walls. They didn’t need to win, and quite likely couldn’t. They needed time, and attention from the guards . . . and he had a crazy idea to get both, and maybe, just maybe, bolster their chances if it came to a fight. “These fuckers are here to kill me. Their level is too high for us. No reason for you all to get dragged into this. I’ll deny them the pleasure.” Arn screamed, “GUARDS” at the top of his lungs, drew his dagger and stabbed it into his heart with both hands, collapsing to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.

ATTENTION: You have died.

Blackjack could only stare in befuddlement. “Well ain’t that the kicker. Now I’ve seen. . .”

RESURRECTED! Resurrections Remaining: 0 (23:59). Regeneration increased by 500%, Pain Resistance set to 100% and all attributes increased by 10 for 10 seconds.

Arn wok with a gasp, and a rush as Kicking and Screaming combined with his resurrection bonuses filling him with an incredible rush of power. Realizing he couldn’t waste his limited time with stacked bonuses, Arn rushed forward intending to use his weight and strength in a massive shield bash to set up a killing blow. As he rushed, Arn gathered himself for a Scream, opening his mouth . . . and staggered to a stop, broadsword in his belly, the smiling bastard appearing out of nowhere.

“Well, I have to hand it to you Arn, that was really something. I’m not sure what, but something. Well, lets make sure this time.” With that, Blackjack stepped on Arn and casually pulled his sword out.

Arn’s crazy plan, and Blackjack’s movement skill caught Arn’s friends flat-footed, but they were neither slow, nor cowards, and not about to let the bastard finish the job without a fight. As Pepper drew an arrow, a bolt of ice slammed into her chest, sending her flying. Sar’s flamelance hit Blackjack squarely in the chest . . . and did nothing, sputtering against the enchanted mail. A second ice bolt slammed into Sar as Blackjack raised his broadsword to cut off Arn’s head.

A streak of fire in his face distracted Blackjack for a split-second, but he recovered quickly and casually backhanded Squeaker out of the air. Sighing at the seemingly endless distractions, he shield-bashed the onrushing warrior with the burned face back ten feet and kicked the hunter’s pet in the ribs. “Finally. To business!” he gloated, and turned back to finish the kill.

For the first time during the fight, Blackjack’s danger sense went off, and he instinctively flinched back causing the dagger streaking for his eye to skitter across his cheek. The damn girl!

* * *

Anya reckoned they would either be comfortably early or far too late, but forced her lathered horse to keep up with Jennifer’s regardless. Small chance or no, the notion of possibly missing her revenge for the sake of a horse never even occurred to Anya. When they spotted a confrontation in the distance, Jennifer dug her heels into her horse and somehow coaxed more out of it, something Anya knew she couldn’t duplicate given her horse’s state; nor did she need too. Anya quickly dismounted and ran, easily outpacing Jennifer’s exhausted horse.

At fifty feet, it looked like she might be too late to save the big one – presumably the Regenerator – but she was too far out and wasn’t willing to burn Accelerate to save one life, only to lose her own. She threw a dagger as she ran, hoping to at least cause a distraction. Years of ingrained training and her thrown weapons’ skill made the distance possible, if still a stretch on the run, but fortune was kind, and she almost took the bastard’s eye. As he turned to her, pointed and started to say something, Anya knew time was up and activated Accelerate simultaneously with the arrival an ice bolt.

Anya felt a force slam into her right leg, knocking it out from under her and sending her to the ground. As she looked up, she realized what had happened. Accelerate left most of an ice bolt crawling through the air in normal time, but the head of the bolt was already in her thigh when Accelerate triggered, had been caught in accelerated time, and continued through her thigh, sending her sprawling. As the severity of the hole in her thigh sank in, Anya desperately quaffed a healing potion. It would save her life, but Accelerate was burned, and this fight was looking unwinnable.

* * *

Blackjack laughed at Anya’s fate, but cut it short noticing Jennifer – Jennifer of all people! – dismounting from a horse, glaring death at him, and drawing her daggers. Behind her, an old man approached sword drawn, and in the distance Blackjack saw a party of Reach’s guards finally headed for the fun. Well, he could deal with a small group of guards, and if Jennifer meant to interfere, she was what, level five?

Blackjack turned to the runners, pointed down at Arn and shouted, “I have apprehended this fugitive! He is a child rapist and cannibal! I have proof!” Delighted at his nonsense, he upended a pouch from his waist, spilling bones onto the ground. As the bones began to glow and assemble into a skeletal figure, he shouted “woops, a Death Knight, wrong pouch sorry!” Blackjack casually kicked Arn in the head as he was struggling to rise, grabbed Arn’s sword from the ground and tossed it to the now fully formed Death Knight. Pointing at the runners, he commanded “kill them but leave the girl to me.”

Smiling at Jennifer’s drawn daggers, Blackjack wondered how far he could push her without having to kill her on the other side. Might have to do that anyway. “Hun, I know you left in a huff, but tell me your not wasting your time helping a bunch of nothings?”

“Uh boss…we have a serious fucking problem!” Manson shouted pointing. Up close, those weren’t Reach guards at all. Three knights wearing the tabard of Eternal Order were quickly hacking the Death Knight to pieces, and a beautiful young girl soft tossed a silver sphere his way. Blackjack kept the best gear for himself of course, and smiled as he activated the powerful defensive enchantment in his bracers. This looked bad, but wasn’t necessarily over.

As the sphere blazed, Blackjack closed his eyes for the anticipated blast, but it didn’t come. Opening his eyes, he saw the sphere open, expanding in a surreal landscape of shimmering crystalline limbs accompanied by a shrill whistling noise that cut the air like butter. A fucking golem. Time to kill the big bastard and call it a day. As he turned to look for Arn, Blackjack was momentarily startled to see Manson’s body shatter, reforming into a glowing skull made of motes of light. Blackjack felt his danger sense flare from behind a second before Jennifer’s dagger took him in the neck, and then flare again as the big bastard with a god damned cheat of a class thrust his sword into Blackjack’s eye. As Blackjack dissolved into glowing motes of light an eerie supernatural laugh seemed to briefly come from everywhere before fading away.

The beautiful girl accompanying the Order Knights quickly stepped forward with two glowing vials in each hand, and spoke to those still on their feet. “Healing potions. Get them in your friends, and we will carry anyone that can’t walk. There are always more of these bastards, so time is short. I’ll explain later, but for now, come with me if you want to live.”