Although Rowan had seen ample death during these past weeks on Sortis, this particular death made his intestines broil. There weren’t any signs of a struggle. Luthias’ footprints were evenly spaced leading up to his body and iron tower shield. Again, there was no blood, and there were no wounds.

Tasha, pale-faced, finally spoke with a stutter, “S-sorry, I should’ve went with him.”

“Did he see something?”

“He just walked off.”

Rowan’s lips wrinkled. “He didn’t say why?”

“No. I thought he saw a stray loot gem.”

Ayla asked, “You didn’t feel his slave connection break, Rowan?”

With a mental sweep, he counted threads. Four were pointing toward the mountain pass in a bundle. One was pointing to Ayla, another to Skylar behind her, and another leading off into the forest, severed—Viola, logged-out. Seven threads. Luthias’ was missing. Faenin’s was long gone, not to forget.

“My bad. I was busy with loot.” Rowan’s fist clenched, nails digging into his palm. “But Luthias shouldn’t have walked off without saying something.”

“Yes,” Tasha said. “That was pretty stupid of him.”

“Maybe he was possessed?” Gabrielle suggested from atop Mossy’s back.

“Or taunted?” Ayla mumbled.

“We can ask him,” Tasha said. “His head is fine. Unless he’s brain-damaged, we can just revive him with a Soul Crystal, right?”

“Yup,” Gabrielle quipped.

Rowan’s nod was rigid as he sheathed Moonfyre. “Get his body secured on Mossy’s back. We’re leaving. We’ll sort the rest of the loot at the fjord.” He issued get-to-work pings, and helped raise Luthias’ six foot three body of muscle up Mossy’s carapace, careful to avoid her bladed legs that could split a skull.

In watchful silence, the party formation reversed up the trail of stumps past the waterfall, past the rocky ledges that concealed the giant eagle’s nest. The eagle itself was nowhere to be seen. The lack of wildlife was worsening; even insects had fled the valley. Whistling winds and ruffling leaves gave this ruined forest a haunted feeling. Haunted and freezing. An Arctic winter was under three weeks away.

Then Skylar boorishly yawned and asked, “Do you think it had something to do with his scars that he didn’t tell us?”

“I don’t think so,” Rowan answered. “He’s prideful, but not that stupid. He’s not suicidal either.”

“Mmhm,” Gabrielle hummed. “He was looking forward to the next episode of Sortis Bakes.”

Tasha glanced at her. “You’re doing a p—”

“A-ta-ta-ta-ta. It’s a secret.”

Ayla’s laughter chimed in the wind. “I’m looking forward to it. Let me know if you need more ingredients—if I die that is.”

Tasha said, “I don’t think we can go back to Elvenhome. There’s a thread about us taking Saeya and Jassin.”

“Real?” Ayla’s beauty scrunched into something witch-like. “They were homeless—and sick.”

“Apparently kidnapping is a touchy subject with the Elves.”

Lance Rider’s phantom voice lapped at Rowan’s ear. “That reminds me. The Sun Elf Queen will probably send an envoy to us soon, assuming they can get past the Trolls. I doubt they can.” He glanced up Mossy’s side. Luthias’ peaceful face, eye open, was staring at Rowan, accusing as though it were his fault.

Tasha asked, “Then how did Lance’s party get here?”

“The Humans are seeking an alliance with the Trolls. You didn’t know?”

“Um, I don’t recall…”

Rowan’s head swayed right and left. “It might’ve been someone trolling on the forums.”

“It definitely was,” Skylar said.

Gabrielle sighed. “Probably, maybe, likely. Let’s not dwell on things we dun’ know for sure and stay positive, kay? I say we’re gonna ding level thirty by the end of the week and clear that triple-S dungeon. No ifs or buts!”

Mellow laughter was had at that, Rowan agreeing: “That eighty-thousand credit prize is ours.”

“What’s the plan now, mister one-armed Demon lord?” Tasha asked with a drip of sarcasm. “Still going with the Gothic-style buildings?”

He had nearly forgotten he was missing a hand, and Liluth’s healing magic was not going to help. Thank you for the reminder, big sis. “Pretty much. We’ll build a graveyard so we can start grinding dungeons while the Elves work toward a tier one settlement.” A hamlet—a lofty goal requiring at least ten stand-alone bedrooms, a shrine, and a dining hall, all at least admirable quality. That wasn’t mentioning a typical several-hundred stone cost for a greater hall. Wood was not an option.

“Can I have a two-story house?” Ayla asked.

“Same here,” Tasha said.

“Three stories for me.” Skylar. “I’d like my own archery range on the top floor.”

“I want my palace.” Gabrielle, of course.

The bickering over minor details continued for the rest of the hike. Rowan tuned them out, remaining alert for dangers. But he wasn’t the only shifty-eyed adventurer. Everyone was watching each other’s backs while they laughed and chatted. They knew this was serious. They knew an Elf had spontaneously died.

By Gabrielle’s Luck, they did not run into danger. At the mountain pass’s narrow mouth, the wall now had a gate barely wide enough for Mossy. An outpost room had been built from limestone, a wooden bed inside. Good call by Liluth.

Near the settlement, Rowan rubbed his eyes in astonishment. In the span of five hours, everything had changed. The workshop, storeroom, and hovel (sadly) had been torn down to make space for the greater hall. Foundations of marble laid out a symmetrical structure of nine rooms centered around the town hall, which was now a roofless marble oblong. Rowan turned on the grid overlay and found it was going to be a forty-by-forty yard building.

Faenin’s tomb was now ten yards under the greater hall’s eastern section. North of the greater hall, a twenty-by-thirty yard foundation for the dining hall was ready for its walls. North of the dining hall were two rows of five housing plots, each ten-by-ten yards. To the west of the dining hall was a fifteen-by-ten area for Gabrielle’s future kitchen, which adjoined to an already-built storehouse, and west of that was a ten-by-twenty yard communal lavatory waiting for room enchantments. East of the dining hall stretched a fifty-by-fifty yard shrine. A shrine did not need such a space, but future upgrades demanded so.

Rowan turned off the overlay and took in finer artistic details. Save for the bedroom block and crop farm a hundred yards north, everything was now marble and already looking Gothically Demoneqsue with high-arched roofs, spiked gutters, and twisted pine trees in the backdrop. Blocks of marble were cutting and carving themselves, invisible hands stacking walls and support columns, Liluth’s putty-like magic cementing the last blocks of the greater hall’s foundations and basement into place. She had outdone herself, but this was to be expected of a Builder. Material resource was the bottle-neck in this world, not skilled laborers.

As they stepped over a filled-in trench where the palisade had been, Ayla said, “Hey, I’ve got to go. See you later.” She disappeared before anyone could return the goodbye.

Rowan shrugged and headed to the town hall, saying, “Skylar. When’s Viola logging back in?”

“Her pod is having some connection issues.”

“Aww, unlucky,” Gabrielle said. “I hope they compensate her.”

“We’re getting some free time.”

Good to know. Rowan dished out orders: “Skylar, tell the others what happened. Tell Liluth to start work on a graveyard and make it top priority. Give the pouch of textiles to Saeya and have her make warm cloaks. Ask Zaine if he likes the sound of a dragonsteel rapier. Then tend to the farm.”

“Yes, sir.” Skylar dashed off, his cloak billowing in the freezing wind.

Inside, Rowan poked the gold skull idol. Zaine better had not messed with anything. A tall game window expanded.

LeMort’s Hollow

Rank: Tier 0 (Homestead)

Alignment: Dark

Leader(s): Rowan LeMort, Gabby LeMort

Caretaker(s): Zaine Daedan

Portal Restriction: manual acceptance

Gods: Draesear

Faith: 47

Available Miracles

Rain of Fire (500f)

Auras

Purification (cleanses the land)

Buildings

Town Hall (upgrading to Greater Hall)

Bedroom Block

Crop Farm

Tomb

Storehouse

Stone Wall

Communal Lavatory (needs enchantments)

Dining Hall (under construction)

Kitchen (under construction)

Shrine (under construction)

[10] Small House (under construction)

Residents

Rowan LeMort (Enchanter)

Gabby LeMort (Cook)

Ayla Wintersbane

Tasha NaMuso

Skylar Everbright (Farmer, Forester)

Viola Everbright (Farmer, Forester)

Liluth Valthrya (Forester, Woodworker, Stoneworker, Builder)

Luthias Ilequin (Metalworker)

Zaine Daedan (Miner, Forester)

Saeya Shatumal (Clothworker)

Jassin Elsinaire

Seeing everything was in order, Rowan dismissed the window as Gabrielle strolled through the doorway with a Soul Crystal cradled in her arms. She knelt, placed it by Luthias’ head, and with a blinding bluish-white flash, life was restored in an implosion of calming magic. Calming yet energetic.

Luthias gasped for air. “Lady LeMort,” he wheezed.

Gabrielle said, “Take it slow. We’ve got time.”

Rowan wasn’t going to wait: “Luthias, how did you die? Were your scars acting up?”

“There was a shadow, and for a moment I sensed your magic, your Demonic power, from within the forest, but I knew it was not your doing, for this magic was more potent and threatening in emotion. I felt the very life of me sucked out through my nose, and then I was drifting into the spirit realm.”

Gabrielle rubbed his shoulder. “Do ya remember what was in the spirit realm?”

“The gods do not allow us to retain memory of it.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a crumb.”

“Awww.”

Rowan chuckled, “Okay, back to this Demonic power. Did you see what it was?”

“I did not, only a shadow.”

“Do you know what it could be?”

“I do not.”

“Yet you charged in without a second thought?”

“Forgive me, Lord LeMort. I was acting unwisely. Your Demonic magic is deeply intoxicating to the mind.”

Tasha was leaning against the doorway. “It’s alright, Luthias,” she mumbled, “and it’s my fault. I should’ve followed and pinged Rowan and Gab earlier.” NPCs couldn’t ping.

“It’s kay,” Gabrielle reassured. “No punishments this time, right, Row?”

“It was an honest mistake,” Rowan said. “We all make mistakes, but we only have so many Soul Crystals in storage, thirteen left by my count, and you were fortunate to not lose your head. Winter is soon, and the Trolls will most likely raid us again. I know through divine communication that your Queen also wishes for your safe return. Don’t forget those who are counting on you.”

Luthias coughed through hagged breaths. “You do not need to remind me.”

“Good. Get back to work. Your Forging Station is in the new storehouse for now.”

He palmed to his feet. “What do you need crafted?”

“There’s a pouch holding roughly two hundred units of mid-purity iron ore. Have it all smelted into ingots along with our leftover blacksteel ore, please. How long will that take?”

“Two to three days.”

“Alright. Once you’re done with that, make Zaine a weapon of his choosing, then I may have some special projects for you. Understand?”

“Yes, my lord.” He wobbled out the doorway, almost toppled over before Tasha offered an arm, leaving the LeMorts alone to discuss matters under darkening clouds. A speck of hail struck Rowan’s helmet. Freezing wind spilled over the walls.

Gabrielle shivered. “I say we build an aura focus for a Heat aura before winter’s here.”

He could vaguely recall from forum threads an aura focus required a few rare crafting materials. “Sure, right after graveyard, which we need a spirit anchor for.” Sacred soil as well, which he could make without much trouble as an Enchanter.

Her shoulder sank an inch. “Another dungeon run?”

“Maybe a few. I doubt I’ll get lucky again. There’s no rush. We can do duos this time once I hit level five Enchanter.”

Her posture re-straightened. “You and I! Just like when we met in Kingdom Quest Online.”

His nose wrinkled. “Don’t mention that game. It was a horrid grind-fest.”

“But ya love to grind.”

“It was a bit much even for me.”

“If ya say so. Hehehe. I know you’re gonna make ten more stacks of fire grenades to train.”

His brows lifted. “It was a smart move. Saved us from the spiders.” His face deadened as a conversation from a week ago flashed through his eyes and ears. “I just remembered Jin’tal tried to lure us to the spider infestation by saying there were Demonic ruins near the manawood tree.”

“She did?” Gabrielle’s eyes wandered. “Oh my god, she did! Something was unearthed in the ruckus!”

“Yeah. We’ll check it out—after our graveyard’s built.”

“Naturally,” she said, mimicking his voice. “And you’re forgetting something.”

“Hmm?”

“Ya’ve gotta enchant the lavatory. I have had it with those smelly long-drops.” Her arms crossed.

“Oh.” Quietly groaning, Rowan opened the web browser and searched for that guide on NPC lavatories in the forums. This was by far his least-favorite part of the game, and, luckily, the sanitation enchantments were simple. Any green foliage was suitable for a reagent. Clean spring water was the other, which was of plentiful supply here. He walked off to the river, Gabrielle skipping along at his side, humming a merry tune.

Thank the gods at Synaptic Entertainment that passing waste was optional for players.