After the speech August made to the outskirt settlements, specialized parties were contacted individually. This was done unannounced to the general public. However, if the general public walked into any bar, they would soon be likewise informed. Less than one percent of adventuring parties in the outskirts were contacted. All of the parties that were notified came from Fort Colon.

As the fort was the closest established city to the location of the multi-system users, it made perfect sense that the elite scouting force would come from them. Theoretically, the city could have teleported in better talent, but the cost was far too exorbitant.

Amidst the rumors floating around, a motley crew found themselves in a private dining area with one another. Jenny, Darryn, Khalil, Justine and Meagan found themselves cordoned off on the second floor of Elliot’s Bistro and Grill. Loose tapestries hung around their isolated room, covering the noise dampening enchantments with a far more pleasant display. The table that was the centerpiece of the room was a rich Reform blackwood. The wood resembled the African blackwood from the birth planet of the Reforms.

The defining difference between the two trees were the red veins that swirled in the trunk of the Reform version. Like epoxy poured into clockwise swirls, the thick crimson lines made the table look like a whirlpool. This wood was one of the most luxurious lumber one could secure on the outskirts. The reason being the veins would only show once the tree aged two-hundred and fifty years to the dot.

The swirls would always miraculously develop in seconds upon reaching the tree's birthday. Many researchers had devoted their entire time on Start to discovering why. While a table made of the Reform blackwood was seen as a symbol of wealth and prosperity, without the veins it was seen as worthless.

Our characters sat around a half circle of the fine wood. Sitting at their right hands were mugs made of the same material as the table. This was a true sign of exorbitant wealth. Jenny, Darryn, and Khalil were nervously fidgeting, afraid to rest hand or elbow on the opulent wood. Conversely, Justine all but relied on the table to keep her upright.

So engrossed in the library she had discovered, Justine had forgotten that a Reform needed sleep to survive. It was not something that would simply go away as one leveled up. Perhaps, various classes could eliminate the need, but Justine’s own was not one such class. Meagan sat as far back in the Reform blackwood chair as possible, beer mug raised up to eye level.

Meagan was pondering a different question than the rest of the assembled folk; she was wondering what the point of a black beer mug was. Was the point of a mug not to enhance the experience of the beer? Yet instead, she was unable to see the natural hue of the ambrosia, relegated to staring at a black puddle in a black mug. The flowing veins were nothing more than a useless bauble.

The only visible door to the room swung upon on well greased hinges. There were more portals unseen behind the various curtains. Certain types of patrons needed more than one exit strategy. Walking into the room was a lithe woman with black hair. Her hair was cut uniformly around her jaw, framing her face in a bob cut. She wore loose black fabric which covered the rough hide armor underneath. There was no metal of any kind beside her black shin guards. The only two things that weren’t blending in with the shadowy fabric were her face and the ornate rapier resting at her right hip.

“Forgive my delay,” Sam Colon addressed the group, “as I have already kept you waiting long enough, shall we first discuss business before we enjoy our meal?”

Calm down Yuclaus, this is for your own good, the man said to himself, Sen would never put you in needless danger. This is something that is manageable. She is just trying to help, he attempted to convince himself. Worst case, the terrified Cause reasoned, Isencia will definitely help me if I get overwhelmed. Right?

“Sen, can I ask you a question?”

“Hm?”

“Let's say, theoretically, I get overwhelmed, you would help right?” Rather than the comforting smile Yuclaus wanted, the nymph simply stared at him with emotionless eyes.

“Three minutes.”

“Sen, am I allowed to use my time of preparation to ask you questions?” Yuclaus was hoping that he could use the knowledge of the nymph to his advantage.

“I'll allow it.”

“You are only bringing one creature right?” Isencia —once again— remained silent. Yuclaus waited for her response.

“You are halfway through your time,” She eventually responded, ignoring his question. The sad thing was that Cause was getting used to her ignoring him.

“I thought you said I could ask you questions?”

“I never said I had to answer those questions?”

“Please Sen? My good friend. My companion. My accomplice in multi-system crime.” Isencia looked like she was about to withstand the barrage of guilt-tripping, when Yuclaus mentioned accomplice. Sen was rather fond of the word. People who had defied the established laws together, it was poetic.

“...fine, there are three of them. I will bring them one after the other.” Yuclaus almost fainted at the number. Here he thought it would be one and done, but it seemed Sen had other ideas. He was not the first man to think in such a way, but perhaps he was the first to think so in regards to being forced to fight creatures to the death. Then again gladiators were a thing.

“Ok what are they? Four legs, two legs, abilities? Stronger or weaker than the monkeys?”

“Two minutes. They are four legged amphibious creatures. Imagine the salamanders of your world, but bigger, and part plant. They have roots for toes, and their tongue can be used like a thorned whip. It is a vine that can rapidly grow, but it needs to be cut off with their teeth to return to their mouths.”

“So stronger than the monkeys, great. How often can they extend their tongues?”

“One thirty. They can do it every minute or two.”

“Is there a water source nearby? They are salamanders, so maybe?”

“They are like salamanders. Your guess is correct though.” Isencia thought about whether she should tell Cause about the large pond a minute walk away. He was closing on the time limit. She would throw him a bone, she had already been counting slower, another minute wouldn't hurt. Plus, going to the pond wouldn’t help his lack of sight; it was still night. “A minute that way by foot,” She pointed in the opposite direction she was leading the salamanders from, “is a small body of water. One minute.”

“Thanks Sen!” Yuclaus for some reason thanked the very cause of his trouble. Cause thanked his cause. That's a fun one. “Gourami, operation ‘Roll the Chariot’ is a go!” Yuclaus squeezed between the branches that made room for him, and the duo rolled with as much speed as possible. A few destroyed trees, and a few prayers to the sky above, and Yuclaus felt a splash as they hit water.

Yuclaus felt that Gourami was about to explode with the force of a grenade, but he tamped down on the seal in his heart. He forced Gourami to withhold its urges to claim the pond. Hold on Gourami, not yet, we need to be further in. The two slowly sank to the bottom, and the tumbleweed continued to slowly roll across it. Or so Yuclaus assumed, not only was it pitch black outside, but he was underwater, in a tumbleweed.

He was going to continue for a little longer, when a force usurped him from the seal, and the mangrove decided that it was time. Rather than being immediately flung off of the trunk, a small vacuum of air was made as the branches and roots whipped out. Yuclaus was instead pushed against the trunk with the force rivaling that of three large waterfalls.

Gourami did not finish there. As the air bubble was quickly filled with water, the trunk expanded, new branches being made to support its growth. It then reached for the surface above. Yuclaus hung on for dear life as the trunk started growing larger than he could wrap his arms around. He finally understood the phrase “between a rock and a hard place” as he was pushed against a tree, enduring the pressure from the side as he faced the resistance from their sudden ascent.

Unseen to Yuclaus, a lush canopy stretched above the pond, spreading outwards to fully cover the water source. The ornamental tree with iridescent maple leaves claimed the territory as its birthright. Rapidly filling the depths were hundreds of roots hungry for prey. Gourami’s increase in size caused an energy deficit, the roots were more than happy to satisfy the need.

Yuclaus found a branch that had grown under his feet. That was nice of you Gourami. He relaxed his grip, and stood unseeing on the mangrove. He was near the top of the tree, the leaves almost brushing the top of his head. Isencia looked on, impressed at the speed of the transformation. Yuclaus stood. He looked around, still seeing nothing but black. Isencia did say to prepare so… He spread his feet shoulder width apart, and raised his fists to his chest. Ok, so now what?

A rustling filled the forest, as if a breeze was passing through. It would have been calming, had Yuclaus felt the wind brush his skin. Yet the air was still. He tensed. He was about to relax when he felt something touch the back of his neck. He yelped, thinking it was one of the vine-tongues, and spun around. The rustling increased in volume for a moment before going quiet. Rather than a thorny tongue, a small green vine sat hanging from the canopy.

Yuclaus was unable to see the vine, but he felt when it pushed a crystal into his hands. He squeezed it, the rustling from earlier immediately becoming intelligible. The rustling had not been caused by a breeze, but rather Isencia. If his memory served him correctly —an impressive feat as of late— then Isencia had said “times up”. Did she say times up? I believe so. He ignored the fact that the loud rustling was her way of showing mirth at his fright.

He waited for the sound of movement, a splash notifying him of the salamanders entering the water. After what felt like five minutes —because once again it was five minutes— Yuclaus attempted to talk to Isencia.

“Hey Sen,” he said to the air, the vine that had remained by him bobbed unseen in acknowledgement, “were you just pranking me?” The sound of leaves moving in the wind reached him a moment later.

No, also did I say there were three? I meant thirty. There are about ten on your Spore right now, and twenty still in the water. There was a moment of processing that Cause needed to do. He heard the words in the wind, he processed their meaning, he had only to apply it to action.

“KILL THEM ALL GOURAMI!” Deep in the earth below, dozens of roots had burrowed as far as they could reach. With their latest upgrades, they had gained the ability to drill small holes in the rock, which the roots could then fill before growing. This allowed Gourami to break through any obstacles in its search for energy.

A small fact that our hero and his nymph companion were unaware of, was that the core of most planets are in constant motion. While this may not be particularly important, the flow of molten iron, rock, and other fantasy ingredients creates a magnetic field. Unlike Earth, Start has a rather intriguing core composition. The elements that it consists of allows for a much more robust magnetic field. One that expands past the molten mantle into the crust. If a conducting material —say for example, a root with copper wiring— was to get close enough, an electrical current could be generated. Of course, this is purely if one had the cooling capabilities to handle an influx of energy. I do believe modern laptop chargers have that capability.

Small sparks started to dance in the canopy above, the crystalline pronged batteries storing the current that was being passed into them. They only had a few moments to increase their charge before it was all expelled. The high voltage current traveled through the dense wiring that made up the mangrove, quickly traveling to the tips of the fish-like roots occupying the water. The dead leaves that the roots covered themselves in had another interesting feature: they were able to expel the charge they received.

What occurred was a light show of lightning spreading throughout a pond, frying the plant salamanders in seconds. Luckily for Yuclaus, the light was enough for him to see his peril. Walking along the bottom of the lake, surrounding the base of Gourami, were large salamanders. He was unable to see their color with the blue electricity illuminating the depths, but he assumed they were green. The salamanders were the size of leopards.

They had long nails which dug into the bottom of the lake, keeping them from floating due to the buoyancy their lungs created. These nails also kept the now deceased salamanders rooted in place, leading Cause to believe they still had plenty of vitality. These very same nails had allowed the other ten to crawl up the mangrove, getting far too close for comfort. He also noticed that seven that had already climbed above the water, and were opening their mouths in his direction.