Ethan returned from Two’s halls pulling a creature by the neck on a rope lead. The beast looked similar to the fire chicken that had fended Zahn off his first day, though much fatter and bearing a wide fan-like tail. Its bald head bore two glowing orange beads for eyes and the feathers making up its tail ended in patches of char that flared like embers when it moved. Observing the animal showed its name as a Blaze Turkey, and the bird jiggled as it placidly followed the Warlock’s pull.

“That? We’re going to use that? It’s level four.” The Custom couldn’t help a mote of protest as he saw the other groups facing off against burning boars and a hellhound he wanted to get a better look at. “Is it even a Monster?”

Ethan chuckled as he led the creature in a circle within their duel ring. “Oh, you’ll see. I’ve faced one of these before, back when I just started here and tried passing myself off as a Monk. They bite like a bitch, even if they’re dumb as rocks. Here,” he stepped behind the turkey as it turned in place again and deftly removed the thin rope.

Zahn watched as the bird stopped its dance and twisted its neck, abruptly staring at him through an orange eye. The thing vibrated as it shook itself, the brown and orange feathers over its wings and back ruffling as they fluffed up bigger. He settled into a combat stance with his dagger in one hand as he watched the strange display, looking for an attack with Mana Vision.

Without further ceremony the bird spun and charged at him, its wings flaring out and low as the long neck punched forwards like a spear. Zahn jumped to the side and dragged his heel in the sand, casting Shape to warp the terrain. He intended to make a field of needles that would spear or trap the beast’s clawed feet, but instead found the area between them puckering in a dozen pockets before rapidly hardening into five inch-high spikes scattered around. The bird swung its neck around and pivoted, bringing a viscous bite down on Zahn’s leg.

You have unlocked the spell: Earth Spike!

See spell details within your Grimoire.

-26 Health. Blaze Turkey used Bite.

Zahn blinked the notifications away with a growl, using his bitten leg as an anchor as he delivered a solid kick to the bird’s fluffy body. He felt the feathers cushion his attack a little before his toes met the thing’s ribs and punctured into its body, causing the beast to immediately sag and deflate. The bird’s open mouth spewed something hot, and at first Zahn thought he’d killed the thing and made blood erupt but his mana-charged vision showed him something less victorious. The bird’s long exhale started as warm and rapidly heated, with Fire mana surging through its small body and pouring out its mouth as breathed flame as if he’d emptied a bellows. The tiny teeth lining the turkey’s beak pulled against Zahn’s leg as he screamed, trying to tug himself free from its grip as the bird roasted his leg in and around the bite wound.

-52 Health. Blaze Turkey used Burning Exhale.

You have been afflicted by a Burn!

You will take additional Fire-type damage to the area of your Burn.

From outside the duel ring he could hear Ethan laughing, shouting something unintelligible and more than one voice cheering. He couldn’t see, his attention fixated on the evil burning bird and its ongoing flamethrower bite attack. The wretched bird Monster flapped its wings as the fluffy body reanimated, taking in a breath that finally stopped its ongoing assault. Zahn stabbed down with his mage blade, trying to puncture the fucking thing and found his dagger punch into the bird’s wing as it flapped wildly.

The attack wasn’t completely wasted, with the turkey opening its red jaws to squawk in protest and pain letting Zahn go. He fell on his ass and kicked out again, striking the bird’s body and sending it flying to take his weapon with it. Getting a moment to breathe and center himself again, the Player eyed his resource bars to see the evil dinner option had taken a good two thirds of his health pool in a matter of moments. Looking over to the guffawing Ethan and crew, he found two of his new Barbarian friends cheering on his bout alongside him.

“I might have mentioned!” Came Ethan’s giggling shout, “Don’t kick them! They bite!”

“You can do it, Fireblood!” The cheers from his bulky friends were far more comforting. “Eat that fucking bird, Player man!”

Wishing he had a healing spell, Zahn groaned himself to his feet and shuffled to keep his good leg holding his weight. The bite and burn combo had torn another signed hole in his poor pants, leaving the shiny burn wound looking nasty as it scraped against his clothes. At least I’m not bleeding too. You fucker. Glaring at his opponent, he found the bird waddling along the edge of the ring as it tried to escape. Seeing the fat body wiggling around sparked another surge of adrenaline as his temper insisted on slaughtering the silly threat.

Limping his way towards the wounded feast, Zahn found his dagger dragging against the ground and tried to come up with a way to bleed the bird before killing it. Limping to a stop he pulled out his waterskin and drained it, using the last mouthful to spit water at the fire bird’s singed tail. Steam hissed on impact and the turkey squawked, turning and clawing the ground as it saw him again. “Come on bird-brain, fuck you!” Zahn settled into a half-stance, trying to keep his wounded leg behind him.

The turkey charged again, running low with its neck extended and dragging his dagger still embedded in its left wing. The lowbie waited as it neared and leapt over the small beast, trying to grab for his missing weapon as soon as he landed. The serpentine neck of the bird followed his path, turning a single beady eye on him to track as he lunged at his back. The squawker turned in place and lashed out again, denying him the blade with its sharp teeth. The bite didn’t latch on the second time, taking only a nip from his arm as he drew it back with a hiss. The proximity of the small bird to him as it bit again caused his higher functions to temporarily short circuit and left his monkey-brain in charge, which immediately acted appropriately.

Zahn punched out with a mana-fueled fist and clocked the bird across its small skull, sending the tiny head to the ground with a hollow thunk and ending the fight in a second. The Monster still lived, bearing a Stunned debuff that counted down from a minute. Breathing heavily and staring at the prone beast, the Player held his combat stance a moment longer and saw it kick both legs in an involuntary twitch. He barked a shout before lunging and seizing the turkey by its neck, swinging its entire body around and slamming it into the ground. He could see the thing’s health pool mostly filled from their short fight, and swung bird into sand until a notification interrupted his tantrum.

Improvised Weapons has risen to 10!

Straightening up at the message, Zahn blinked it away and heaved for breath in the hot morning air. The bird still lived, somehow, and hung limply in his grasp as its debuff timer ticked down from over an hour. He found Ethan and his Barbarian friends still cheering on the fight from the sides, roaring on his rampage. He lifted the bloody bird in the air, shaking it like a trophy. “I’m going to fucking eat this!” More roars of approval met his announcement and the barrier fell, removing the blue haze between himself and the crowd.

Ethan stepped around the blood smears as he approached, plucking Zahn’s lost dagger from the ground as he neared. “Bravo. I thought you were going to drain it with your waterskin there, but maybe that would have been obvious.” Zahn had already forgotten about his empty drink in his left hand, pocketing the bloody leather bag as an afterthought. “Still, I can’t complain. Haven’t had turkey in ages, and its bones are going to be great.”

The lowbie blinked as he tried to parse what the other Player meant, turning to follow him back towards their commons. “What? What are we even going to use its bones for?”

“Broth, you silly man. I’ll make enough broth to start a dozen soups from that bird alone, come on. We don’t have long before it dies, you very much broke that thing’s neck.”

Draining the turkey’s blood into a large bowl was apparently common enough for Fodder food preparation that Ethan didn’t even try to disguise their work as the two set about gathering their ritual components. Zahn cut along its throat down the chest and held the body still as it wiggled its death throes and leaked more blood than he thought it held. As the fluids stopped flowing he gave the beast back to Ethan for plucking and true meal preparation, and Zahn carried the blood filled bowl into the Warlock’s room for safe keeping.

“Are you sure we don’t need to cover that or something? Won’t it, I dunno go bad?”

“Nah,” Ethan shrugged the question off as he plucked feathers by the fistful. “It’s not like we have a fridge to keep it in anyways. Long as we use it tonight it’ll still be good, but it might get a sticky layer on top. When we ran my first Contact we had our kills hours before and spent some time sanctifying the blood for impurities. You and I? We’re just going to make it work.”

Zahn nodded along with the explanation until he came to the previously-unmentioned sanctifying, and stared blankly at the Warlock until the other man looked up. “What do you mean, we’ll make it work? You’re telling me now that there’s a whole ‘nother set of steps we’re just not following for this? What the hell dude?”

The other Player rolled his eyes, “Oh calm down, drama queen. For one, we don’t even have a five pound cube of salt. For another, it was mostly about cleansing any parasites from the blood, or bad spirits or some shit. We wanted clean stuff to make a deal with, you’re not making any kind of deal. You’re just here to open the door, and then I reach through it.”

Zahn looked out the open doors to the arena, seeing a trio of Gladiators facing off against an equal number of fire pigs. “Speaking of, you sure you can’t just open it yourself? It’s not like rituals care who operates them.”

Ethan once again supplied an easy answer with a smile, “No way, the spell itself will remember me. It’s kind of like a bouncer, it makes sure you’re not trying to summon more than one minion and so we need a fresh caster to initiate Contact. Once the door’s open, I’ll just be able to pluck who I need from the mess.”

“I’ve been telling myself to remember to ask you for a few days now,” Zahn still stared out into the bright light, watching the fights unfold. “Why are you so low-leveled? You said you’ve gone for deleveling once, but that’s just once; how has it taken you this long to get this strong?”

For a minute he didn’t answer, working on the bird and separating bones from meat. When Ethan did speak, the sudden noise made Zahn jump as he daydreamed about the fights. “It’s not really a secret, more like you’re bringing up something we use to shit on each other with. You get the first two Ranks for free, and usually find them in your starting City for that matter. I know I spent my first decade leveling to fifteen before I left the Capital to go Dungeon crawling. The thing is, you can’t just level yourself to thirty and beyond. Every new tier you want to climb to, you gotta be invited up to first. If you want to pass level twenty-nine, you need to have a certain level of reputation with a faction that is already greater than third rank. Then you need to appeal to the leader of that faction so they can grant you a Blessing, which lets you continue leveling up. Everyone needs to collect their first Blessing for third rank in their early levels, and it’s usually from the Empire they belong to. The Human Empire even made theirs bureaucratic, you won’t see anyone other than clerks but you’d still get it.”

“I started out with a group, we formed a party within the main City and worked together to solve a hundred problems. I think I joined them at level nine, maybe a year before I could finally leave that huge place. I mean yeah,” Ethan waved half a bird in Zahn’s direction as he gestured for scale, “we covered a couple hundred blocks and saved thousands of lives. You wouldn’t believe what gets going in the sewers of a place the size of the Capital, nevermind the number of residents who get up to no good. Great for early leveling though, no question. Anyways, our group left for Dungeons together, paid our fees, went around hopping holes and grinding for power. We spent probably another twenty years just running from Dungeon to Dungeon, where the Locals and Players are both immortal and nobody hates anyone else. The first real problem we found was when we went back, and learned the Church had outlawed Warlocks completely.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Zahn chimed in. That’s a whole class, there’s no reason to ban something like that.”

“Yeah, well.” Ethan’s surly growl showed he’d already had this argument to death, “Tell that to them. It didn’t last too long, only about fifty years or so. Long enough to drive out or kill every Warlock within the Empire, and there’s still a static ban on the practices. So, y’know, we’re not gonna find that block of blood-purifying salt. Just saying. Anyways, we found out when the guards grabbed me on our way home and I was one of the lucky ones. I was banished, met up with the gang outside and we took off, back into our holes. It only became a real problem when everyone else hit high tier three, and we all knew I couldn’t go back. The others, they were still in good standing back home, missed their families, all that. You’d be surprised what thirty years of running around on adventures does, it turned the biggest dick you’d ever meet into a regular family man. I only saw our healer again, and she’d already gotten her second Blessing and was working on her third. No idea if she ever hit rank five or not, mortals don’t usually live long enough for it.”

Zahn listened to the bubbling pot as Ethan fed bones to the brew, waiting for the rest of the story. From his angle he had a clear view of the ball of brown vines burying its roots into the ground and growing thorny graspers around itself. The team trying to kill it had tried hacking and crushing at the brambles only to find their attacks useless on the stubborn plant. “What drove you to de-leveling? Nobody could want that kind of thing.”

The Warlock chuckled, dropping more things into the pot. “I said, sort of. See, there is one thing that can de-level you below one.” Zahn spun at the news bomb, blinking away the glare from outside. “And that is a certain religious ceremony, usually used for easy levels on the favored few and gaining favor from the outside. That’s what she was doing, back in the day. Her name was Heather, and I loved her for a while. She had the most beautiful hair, red as flame and long and smooth like silk ribbons. You’d never think she was a Priest with that mouth, but by the Gods if I was a local she would have turned me.” He plucked a metal wooden skewer from his bag and fished out one of the turkey meat bits from his stew and laid the meat over coals. “Anyways, Heather, she was a lovely woman. She told me, and warned me about the ceremony. Her mission to get the next Blessing was to capture a Player and bring them back to the Church where they’d be killed by a ritual that brings you below your minimum level. The experience that isn’t taken by the Gods for your return is instead given to the casters performing it. I imagine it’s something like your little day of whack-a-mole in the other room?”

Ethan’s casual mention of Zahn’s worst day in this prison hell caused a spike of fear in his chest, quickly followed by the rising heat of anger. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Zahn opened his eyes to find at some point he’d crossed the small room and grabbed the thinner man by his neck and arm, gripping tightly. Letting go and stepping back, Zahn tried to stay calm as he heaved another breath. Ethan watched with a raised eyebrow and rubbed at his throat.

“Feel better? You didn’t even remember to juice yourself for that one.”

“Don’t.” Zahn wanted to clearly articulate the source of his rage, but found the same energy pumping through his limbs choking out his words. “Do not mock that. It wasn’t fun. You’re a shit for saying that. Asshole.”

Ethan held up a bloody hand, dropping the last of the turkey bones into the soup. “Sorry, didn’t mean to offend. I mean, I did, but you’re a thin-skinned bitch who can’t take it so.” He giggled as Zahn stomped over again, waving the wooden spoon at him like a sword. “Watch it, I’m cooking here. Do you want to eat? Ever? Sit.”

Returning to his work station, the Warlock pointed his spoon at the lowbie. “I can’t imagine how you resisted the Ringmaster’s influence if something like that can set you off. You should have been screaming in his face, anger is the exact emotion he plays on. So, back when Heather warned me about the ritual I had a bright idea. I’d just de-level myself enough to work my way into the graces of another Empire, leave the humans behind like the bigots they are. And at first, it worked. I threw myself into danger, gained a quick reputation as crazy-but-effective, and within five years I was back down below twenty. The only problem I faced then, was getting out of the high-level area I deliberately tossed myself into, as the creatures I used to walk past now wanted to eat me. Wasn’t fun.”

Zahn took another breath, trying to keep his cool. “Are you deliberately mocking me? Quoting me to set me off again? I’m already having a shit day, dude, you are not helping.”

“Oh, calm down drama. In short, I’m below forty because I needed the next Blessing from a group that ousted me. You’ll need to make friends before you can hit thirty, it’s kind of like a mandatory factional reputation game.”

The lowbie scowled out the doors, “Back in Winter Storm we’d encourage rep grinds with unlockables, customizations, the best gear. In this hellhole you need to hit reputation levels just to level up?”

“Yupp,” popped Ethan back. “Kind of a big ol, ‘fuck you’ to all the introverts who just wanted to play a video game. Actually needing to speak the charming words to make friends? The right words? Egad, kill me now.”

“Is that why you didn’t try? Not using a script meant you’d just piss everyone else off?”

“Not exactly,” the Warlock turned over the skewered turkey meat. “See, I kept moving, and tried to stay ahead of my killers. Nothing got to actually eat me, because Player bodies vanish as soon as the grave appears. So, no predators chasing the smell of blood very long, reclaiming my grave was almost easy. By the time my respawn altar changed, I was happy to abandon the no durability scraps I had left and make my way anew. Being very much naked and afraid, it was pretty easy for a level five to beg his way across two towns until I found another group doing Dungeon diving. The rest, I’ve been working my way up to a blessing since running from the Church again. The Collisae can grant up to eighth, as long as the Ringmaster is already that Rank. Perks of being such a high-level building, it sets the faction’s abilities.”

“I was wondering about getting stronger in here,” Zahn muttered to himself. Trying not to rub at the burn on his leg was getting annoying, and his depleted health made him even more irritable. “Let me guess; you need to have a certain position in order to gain enough favor to earn the Blessing in this fight pit.”

“Got it in one!” Ethan sounded far too cheerful for their predicament. “If you’re in the top twenty positions during a match, you can request a Blessing. As long as you and the Ringmaster are the right levels, he has the chance to grant it and let you go up another ten levels over time. Or, he could be a controlling dick and deny you. The good news,” The ‘lock held up a single finger to get his attention, “if he does deny you, he needs to set a requirement that you can meet. Such as, ‘complete the next long-term quest assigned’ or even, ‘raise up a team of fighters’ so he can get things done. Like a working contract for more power.”

Zahn bobbed his head as he took in the information, his anger settling far enough to let him keep his cool again. “And there’s no fucking chance I’m going to be getting a Blessing from here. I’m not even ‘connected to the broadcast’ like you said yesterday.”

Ethan picked up the grilled meat, waving it to cool. “Ah, that’s right. Broadcasts. Clearly you can’t hear them, or you’d already know about scheduling and breaks and such. I honestly thought you were just ignoring them, early on. Seemed like something you’d do. Eat, this’ll help.”

The lowbie thought back to his revelation about Party Chat back in the Dungeon and wanted to slap himself for not thinking of another chat system. He accepted the meat skewer from the other Player and tabbed open his Logs to try and find anything he’d missed. The turkey meat was a bit dry but still tasty, filling his belly and reminding him of ground pepper. He’d gotten most way through the log entries when he finished the small meal and learned something new.

Congratulations Player!

You have earned the Achievement: Bite Back I!

You have consumed the flesh of a being that damaged you. For as long as you are eating your fallen foe, you will regain 1% health and stamina lost.

This effect stacks with similar effects.

Eat from 50 foes to gain the next Rank.

Zahn dismissed the window with a chuckle, looking up to find Ethan watching him expectantly. “Thanks, you didn’t tell me it’d heal me too.”

“I figured it was the best way to get you the first achievement. Nothing from last month was quite as edible, and you took some serious damage from a low-level food bird. May as well enjoy the benefits.” He stirred his partial soup and shifted the pot’s position on the coals. “This pot should do it too, we’ll see how long we can extend this broth for. Less of an effect of course, but anything helps. Hell, this one time?” The blond caster lidded their dinner and faced Zahn directly. “I once saw a vengeance Paladin bite off his opponent’s body and eat it, mid-fight. I was a bit far away to see if it healed him, but cannibalism on the battlefield isn’t exactly new.”

“Wow,” Zahn forgot about searching his logs as the possibilities jumped out at him. “Damn, did you ever learn what level his Bite Back was?”

Ethan shrugged, “Not really. Kind of hard to tell when it’s your side that’s running from him. Whatcha lookin’ for? We don’t have anything scheduled until later, we just needed one fight against Fodder this morning.”

“Trying to find the thing about broadcasts in my logs. Last time, before I knew about Party Chat it was in there just waiting for me.”

The other Player tapped his chin and hummed, thinking out loud. “Maybe, maybe not. It shows up in my logs, but not like words do. More like… I dunno. Forum posts, probably. They’re purple, maybe it’s Psychic at work?”

Zahn closed the logs and sat back, trying to listen for strange sounds. He could hear the normal sounds of the arena, coals crackling, soup bubbling, Ethan loudly breathing, even the constant background of murmuring off in the distance. “Nothing. Just the usual background noises.”

“Weird,” the ‘lock dismissed him. “Maybe it’s got to do with the constant channeling you do, filling your head with too much mana for it to get in? You can always take it up with the Ringmaster if you really want to tap into the messages. Come on, try and cook up some more turkey bits from the pot. You need to have a fully working leg if you’re going to face Brouhaman in a few hours.”