Despite the smells that came with the gore of battle, the work for the night had to be done before it got worse.

No one was spared work in the grim business that followed as some directed groups to dig graves and bury the dead nearest the forest away from the creek at the far end of the plains. Myles was part of this group, digging with some as others picked the bodies over for bags of holding, potions, equipment and others the rest would need now to save their numbers or to be returned to the members of their party.

There was a clear method to it. That much was clear.

Though Myles was too busy to pinpoint the individual’s voice, the way her voice carried told him that it was the same person from the night before leading the groups, organizing the equipment that was salvaged, and taking note of those that were left. He wasn’t sure, but from what he say, Myles figured there had to be about three or four hundred found runners so far that had found their way to the plains that evening. Some had been involved in the fight, others were still filtering in from the city, and still others were covered in scratches and bites as they came from the forest. As they arrived, they too were given tasks.

By the time Myles had finished his task, he noticed that trees had been felled and a giant fire was lit to keep the cold of night at bay and cook as the last of the bodies were put to rest in the graves.

The fire gave him hope though. There was finally something Myles could do.

He wasn’t a chef by trade, but Myles learned quickly thanks to his other cooking skills as a [Baker]. Soon and with the help of others, the smells of sizzling meat filled the air. Someone had brought a full-on cooking kit out of their bag, others set damaged shields washed in the river over smaller cook fires, and still others set up spits to turn and roast the meat.

“Venison steaks! Up!”

But the line to Myles’s station seemed just a bit longer than the rest as his skills filled in the gaps that spices and oil would have otherwise. Besides, well cooked meat didn’t need to do more than be a delicious, fatty treat.

“Rabbit Haunches! Up!”

As people took food, more was offered in trade, and Myles and the others manning their lines worked well into the dark of the night to the smell of meat cooking, fires burning, groups laughing, and the voice in his head feeling that much closer.

There are so many of you.

That was an understatement.

Then again, outside of Gregor, Myles hadn’t seen another beastkin… well, monsterkin. A few Foxkin were grouped together along with at least one Shelkin [Geomancer] he’d seen making ten graves at a time. A smattering of Felkin kept to the shadows as well, but other than that, the bulk were humans, dwarves, a few elves, and a couple Korgan.

From his line alone, humans did greatly outnumber the rest.

“There are.”

Why?

He shrugged as his internal clock told him to flip the next batch of steaks cooking on his impromptu grill. “To get stronger.”

He felt… curiosity skirt across their connection. Why come here then?

Finally, a simple answer.

“Because we have no where else we can go.”

That much was true. Unless you were born a hero, were gifted a class change soul gem, or gifted the item needed to trigger the change, changing a class was difficult if not impossible. He’d seen natural options to open his [Baker] class into something more combative, and given time, he might be able to trigger the change on his own. However, attuning your body to mana in addition to natural born soul energy was a dangerous prospect on its own if your body’s class couldn’t accept it naturally, and the damage of creating mana pathways where they shouldn’t be could warp a class beyond any use.

It was the main issue with most Korgan dying young after all. Well, that and the hybrid nature of the species.

The words seemed to answer her question well enough and settle the matter as Ashra didn’t prod any further. Focused on his cooking, Myles could ignore her intelligence for now and focus on the task at hand. It was still a little unnerving to be served like this…

Then he remembered what he was promised.

“I need to take a break.”

To the groans of many, Myles passed off the duties to another claiming to be able to cook and sought out Will and Kendra. As he expected, both had survived and were near the largest of the bonfires.

Kendra was no worse for wear, a few welts reddening here and there, a nasty bruise across her arm and what he could see of her thigh, but otherwise she was good to go.

Will was worse.

His left arm was battered and burned, broken and sling-ed up already. He suddenly felt very wrong seeking the man out.

The mage had no qualms about it and actually smiled at Myles’s approach.

“You survived the cooking lines!” The words took away a lot of his hesitation, and Kendra moving aside to offer him a seat on their log took the rest. He joined them readily and was handed half a steak by Will. “Take it. I’m stuffed.”

“I’m empty.”

Myles took the makeshift wood plate and the remains of the steak graciously, devouring it as the two spoke more at him, than to him.

“Will took the edge of a hoof to the side. It looks worse than it is.”

“Speak for yourself.”

“I’m speaking for you, twit.”

“I don’t need you speaking for me,” Will scoffed. “Besides, if anyone’s a twit, it’s you.”

“Age doesn’t mean wisdom. Will.”

“Wise words coming from a [Beserker].”

Myles almost licked the plate and considered going back for more before he realized the lull between them. They were looking at him now. Had he missed something? Done something?

“Can’t you fix it?” Myles asked, trying to break the awkwardness.

Kendra snorted. “Don’t you think he would have if it could?”

The [Distoration Mage] put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head. With a solemn smile, Will turned his attention back to Myles. “My skills don’t work like that. I can’t use them on myself. I can move forces, undo localized attacks, increase the potency of effects, even turn attacks back against my foes, but Gods and Goddess be damned if I can heal myself.”

Every Class had restrictions. Myles knew that. They could eventually be overcome, but right now, it didn’t help Will and his broken, battered arm.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shrugged his good shoulder, took the plate, and tossed it into the fire. “That and some coin will buy you some drink.”

“Speaking of buying…” Myles said, seeing his chance. “We discussed earlier helping my monster?”

He grew more solemn for a moment and nodded. “I did. I wish I would have sooner. It could have saved lives tonight.”

I would have done more than that.

“Do you have the energy?”

Will seemed distant for a moment, his eyes unfocusing as he stared off. It took Myles a moment to realize he must have been looking at his interface. How had he summoned it? Why couldn’t Myles see it?

Could others see other interfaces?

“More than enough,” Will confirmed rubbing the back of his neck. “It won’t be pretty, but I can do it.”

Do not worry. I will be okay.

That was quick.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out and holding the princess cut white gemstone in his hand.

Neither reached out for it, trying to understand what it was they were seeing.

“I’m going to release her here,” Myles explained pointing to the clearing between them and the fire where the light was brightest. “She’s in rough shape. Her legs are the worst.”

“I’ve seen plenty tonight,” Will said grimly. “One more won’t break me.”

Taking a breath, Myles focused on the stone as his skill willed. In a blink of an eye, the broken, bloody form of Ashra Snowfur, Ambush Rabbit Princess reappeared.

And the world became pain.

As soon as she had become real once more, the link opened wide and became a river of pain as her body returned to its normal function. He nearly lost his footing as his mind instinctively clamped down on the Empathic Link, filtering out as much of the pain and hurt as he could. He reached out thought the link despite that, trying to comfort her as Will went to work and laid a hand on the jagged bone.

As Will spoke, the thick bones of her broad, long rabbit thighs wiggled unnaturally, sunk back into her flesh, and mended. Blood and muscle slurped back into arteries and flesh as the wound was undone. Despite his focus, he could still feel the sensations of the reversing damage as Ashra felt it. Myles wanted to vomit as he felt the tendons unroll and reattach against the split, now mended, bone.

He could feel as the hammer lifted from the leg, then the pain start all over again as Will’s spell continued to mend the other. The dagger’s deepest cuts were lessened, pulling back only an inch or two here or there.

He could do nothing for the concussion and nearly lost his own footing as Myles cried for his inventory to open. It was his turn now as he retrieved what was left of the healing potion and poured the liquid into the remaining open wounds. Her body did the rest, knitting and sealing the wounds shut and leaving thin, white scars across her arms in places where there was no fur to cover the damage.

As they finished, Myles sighed in relief as he felt the pain’s hold on his monster slack, but Ashra’s mind was still gone to it. Consciousness had left her as the shock of it all rang home in its coming and going. He didn’t blame her, but for the first time, he got to see his companion as she should have been.

She was taller than he was without the ears, but only by an inch or two. Her body was a blend of rabbit and woman, similar to the other Beastkin he’d met before, but Ashra was more beast than human. As she lay on the ground, he took a long look at the armor she’d been equipped with. It was old, worn, maybe old enough to be from another Runner. Her arms were very human, lined with white fur that led to humanoid digits, half furred, half flesh, wrapped around a pair of metal knuckles.

He did his best not to look at her face.

Without the blood and swelling, it was as expressive as a human’s but was more rabbit, though not as pointed in the nose as a rabbit or as narrow in the mouth, but a mix of the two. Expressive in its own way and contorted in seven kinds of pain.

Taking the gem once more, he set the stone on Ashra’s chest and returned her to the pocket dimension with a thought.

She would survive.

I know.

The voice surprised him. He’d thought she’d stay unconscious, but he was glad to know she was okay. He’d been worried when she didn’t wake up.

I am as well.

Could she hear his thoughts now?

Apparently so, or at least when they are directed towards me.

Well, at least that made things easier. “The worst of the injuries are taken care of.”

Give him my thanks. I can give no more than that.

Myles gave Will a smile as he steadied himself. “She gives you her thanks.”

Will coughed, wiped his mouth, then nodded. “We had a deal, Myles. I take that kind of thing seriously.”

“Which leads us to ask, do you have friends around, Myles?”

Myles began to feel uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m alone except for Ashra.”

Kenda looked to Will, and then back to Myles as he nodded. “Need some?”

Will cleared his throat, swayed, and sat himself back down on the log. “You showed real guts out there for a non-combat class. Even without your monster, you fought like a lion.”

He couldn’t take all the credit. “That song…”

“The [Bard]’s song can’t force you to do anything if you don’t want to, Myles. It only opened the path for you to act. We’d be happy to have someone with your heart,” Will corrected. “Join our party.”

If you feel we can trust them, I would accept.

Honestly, it wasn’t the worst offer he could have been given, but he needed to think on it. It wasn’t a choice to be made quickly.

“I need some time.”

Parties became like families, and it was clear Will and Kendra were already close. Would he fit in with them? He didn’t even know them really but fighting beside someone did teach you a thing or two about them. He doubted they were terrible people, but Kendra had been quick to offer a death threat.

Time was the best way to amend any doubts he had.

Thankfully for him, the two seemed to understand him and accepted his words at face value. He needed time, so they’d give him it.

“Attention!”

The voice from before sprang up nearby, calling all attention to to her.

In the firelight, she wore the most impressive armor he’d seen yet. If he didn’t know any better, Myles would have said it was almost artistic in its design. Red hair flowed like blood from her head to the silvery metal and leather armor, and she carried a curved blade of some kind. It was almost like a scythe, but it wasn’t curved until about halfway up the blade. Her face was pretty from what he could tell at that distance, but it was hard cut like a gemstone with the way it held itself. Despite that, her voice was almost soft now as she spoke, all the command gone as she continued with what she had to say.

“Runners, attention!” she repeated. “I know that we’ve had a long night, but I wanted to make sure you all knew who I was. I’m Sindra, your local tactician. Well, technically I’m a [Strategist], but out classes function basically the same. Though we focus more on the bigger picture…” She interrupted herself, seeming to be lost in thought before continuing. “Oh! We did well today! The Runner’s Plaza is ours again!”

No one seemed to mind her meandering, and a cheer went up through the runners, glad to have peace for the first time since they’d arrived near the break of dawn. With full bellies and aching muscles, they listened to what she had to say, since many owed her their lives, skill efficiency be damned.

“Now, we need to be smart about building. If you need to build a store or tavern, stay close to the bonfires. If you need more land, stay at the outskirts. If you don’t have enough vouchers yourself, pool your lot with someone you can trust. We can’t be left wanting!”

That was a true enough statement.

“We have twenty minutes before midnight. The build phase will be open from then on until we clear the dungeon seal. We’ve already discovered a few of the new rules for this run, so don’t try to clear an area with less than what you see here. Is that clear?”

No one argued with her. Everyone knew that they’d lost more than they cared to tonight.

“With this declared a safe zone, we’re going to rest up. My party got the finishing blow on the beast, so the Plaza belongs to us. If you don’t agree with my rules, you can’t stay.”

A few voices murmured in the group, but there wasn’t a clear consensus on why. Myles wouldn’t mind a rest period, and he was sure Ashra wouldn’t either when all was said and done.

“The rules are as follows,” Sindra began without missing a beat. “Murderers are not welcomed here. [Rogues] and your ilk are fine with me as long as you’re following the rules, but if you’re caught stealing from other Runners, you forfeit your house and supplies. Also unless you have a reason, no one leaves the plaza alone, and no one is left behind if it can be helped.”

It was reasonable enough to Myles. Not having to worry about thieves and murderers was a relief. They never lasted long, but the first months were the worst historically.

“That’s it. When you build, I’ll get an approval notification to check and that’s that. My people will come see you to double check your choices. Now, eat! We’ve got a big day ahead of us.”