Gaz downed the last of his beer, slamming his wooden mug on the counter as a massive burp erupted from his gut. Kirsten grimaced at the sound and sipped on her mixed drink, vodka and some sort of berry juice while she talked with Clarence. A dwarven bard played the lute and sang songs of a mountain mistress in the background.

The tavern in Briarthorn was a lot nicer than the one we visited before confronting the Terror of the Woods, and according to Clarence, it was as good of a place as any to celebrate him coming back to life and us returning the armor to Ectos. Only it wasn’t a celebration for the rest of my friends and me. Things had been tense between us as we struggled to deal with our new reality, and Gaz and I still weren’t really talking after our big fight a couple days ago. I still hadn’t spent the vast majority of my character points. “One more round for the lot, please,” Gaz declared as one of the barmaids walked over. She nodded and scribbled something down on a pad of paper with a stick of lead before disappearing in the back, gracefully weaving her way through the packed tables of patrons.

I tilted my old mug back and downed the remaining contents, froth and all so I would be ready for my next and final drink. The alcohol was taking control, and as much as I wanted to let it, it wouldn’t be good to let my guard down. I couldn’t stop worrying about Jason even though I was certain he was busy building his new guild and wouldn’t concern himself with petty revenge when he could effectively bar our faction from victory from the start if he pressed his newfound advantage. There was no telling how many players and NPCs he’d managed to recruit so far, and we still didn’t even have a working understanding of what types of perks and abilities guild ownership gave him. We didn’t have the coin to form our own guild, and it seemed like a Guildstone would be very difficult to find.

“What are you staring at me for?” Gaz demanded, glaring at a human man sitting at the bar. Gaz’s voice was slurred. He’d had a few too many already and didn’t show any signs of slowing down. He was one step away from a brawl.

“I’m not staring at anyone, dwarf. Mind your own business,” the man barked, sipping his ale and setting it down on the table before resting his hand on the hilt of a sword at his waist.

“Yeah? My hammer seems to think otherwise,” Gaz said, pointing a drunken finger at his warhammer which rested against the wood panel of the bar. Even if he could stand at this point, which was doubtful, I could imagine how horribly it would go if Gaz decided to start swinging his heavy hammer around. The tavern was packed, and I had little faith in his ability to hit his intended target. The man across from Gaz narrowed his eyes and started to draw his weapon.

Clarence quickly stood to defuse the situation as I considered the possible outcome of Gaz getting into a full fledged fight with weapons. No one had armor, and the mortal body was really a lot more fragile than it looked. Something as small as a dagger could turn into a blender of death in moderately proficient hands.

“Dear sir, my friend has had a few too many beers and we’ve had a very long day on the road. We’ve been traveling from the Westguard Township and my friend here had a business venture in the town. Bad luck to say the least. Let me buy you another ale for your troubles.” The well-dressed goblin walked over and bought a mug of ale for the man and said a few more kind words before turning back to Gaz. “We’re not here to fight, we’re here to relax,” he hissed.

“Just chill, man. No one likes an angry drunk,” John said to Gaz, the amber light of the lanterns lining the walls illuminating his dark blue skin.

“Chill? Apparently I’m not even real. I’m no different than all these NPCs and you tell me to chill?” Gaz took a deep pull on his ale and cried out for the new ale he’d ordered a while back. He was downing them way too fast and had already had at least eight drinks.

John sighed. “Gaz, come on. Don’t ruin the evening. Besides, I doubt you could even walk right now.”

“That’s a lie!” Gaz slurred. “Liars get the hammer of justice from me, the judge and executioner of the light!”

“Are you actually serious right now?” Kirsten yelled. A horrible, tense silence followed. “You may not care if you get stuck in this world for the rest of your life, but I might not even get that chance. If I don’t complete Ectos’ mission when he calls on me, I’m dead. Gone. I simply cease to exist. I need all of you now more than ever, and if you aren’t going to help me, then I’m leaving with Clarence and you can go off by yourself, Gaz.”

Gaz looked shocked. “Me? I’m the problem? Edwin can’t even use his new class and he refuses to spend his points. We all thought he was supposed to be overpowered and lead us through this, but guess what? He’s holding us all back and the rest of you know it. We constantly have to babysit him in fights and I’m burning through so much mana just trying to keep him alive. Clarence and I are carrying this party, and without us, you’re nothing. Kirsten, I have every intention of helping you with whatever crazy shit Ectos decides to pull, but I can’t kick back and enjoy a few rounds of beer from time to time and at least try to have some fun in the face of a shitty situation? Are you serious?” Gaz demanded. “I’ve even offered to fix Edwin’s situation and help him build his class, as have you and John. Guess what? He keeps refusing, and now I’m told he wants to spend a large portion of our gold to pay someone else to do it! Someone we don’t even know if we can trust. Oh, and get this. We’d also have to pay ten damn gold just to send the message to see if that player would be interested in the job without even knowing if they’re aligned with our faction. What happens if they let Jason know Edwin is useless now? He won’t even bother coming here himself, he’ll just send some of his new lackeys in his shiny new guild and walk all over Edwin while he continues to get further ahead in Stratus.

A sinking feeling congealed in my gut. I took a moment to collect myself before responding. Kirsten was taking in long, slow breaths and trying to collect herself as tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

I set my mug down. “Gaz. Calm down. I’m going to ignore what you said about me. Kirsten has been our friend for a very long time, and she’s right. We need to constantly work on progressing and get out of this game. We all want our lives back, and until we get them, we need to be as serious as possible about how we go about doing it. You’re right that we should be able to enjoy a few beers from time to time, but until we get further or have a real means to celebrate, we can’t be drinking like this. We need to be fresh in the morning so we can get the most out of our time.”

“Guys,” John whispered, his voice little more than a rasp.

“I’m not giving up my drinking nights. I’m a better gamer than all of you, and it’s not fair to me,” Gaz huffed.

“You should lay down and we can talk about this tomorrow, it’s way too late and you’ve had too much to drink. I don’t think you’re thinking clearly,” I said, trying to stop things before they could get any worse.

“Not happening! Where are my Drinks?!” Gaz bellowed, forcefully standing and grabbing three mugs of ale off the tray of a different serving girl. The ale wasn’t even his, and she wore an exasperated expression on her face as she hurried back to the kitchen, probably to grab a bouncer to force Gaz out of the tavern.

“I can’t believe you right now, Gaz,” Kirsten said, her voice a mixture of anger and sadness. She looked like she wanted to cry, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“Guys,” John repeated again, but he was so quiet no one paid any attention to him.

“Gaz. You really need to stop,” I said, my voice more firm this time as he guzzled more ale as quickly as possible. “Think about how you’re hurting Kirsten right now. You’re way too drunk and this is getting out of hand.”

“Guys,” John choked again, loud enough to draw our attention our attention this time.

Richard the orc from the Westguard Township was holding the tip of a blade to John’s neck. He had already taken the liberty of taking back his crossbow and quiver from John and had also relieved John of his other weapons, all without us noticing.

“Now,” the orc bellowed. “Now that you’re done fighting amongst yourselves, do you have any idea how hard it was to escape the Westguard Township with seven broken ribs? All I wanted was my crossbow back, but because of what you did to me, you’re going to pay.”

“Richard, please, we have some gold and can pay you to leave quietly. You can even take your crossbow and quiver,” Clarence offered, obviously mad at himself for failing to notice Richard in the first place, but the rogue-like orc was surprisingly stealthy for his size, and my friends and I were more than a little drunk. Magic under the influence of alcohol was not only a bad idea, but it could also be potentially lethal. Clarence and Kirsten were effectively out of the fight, and Gaz was too drunk to stand.

“You think I’m afraid of you, Clarence? I took measures to make sure you can’t beat me again. In fact, the Yellow Oysters seem to be after your head. Sound familiar?” Richard demanded as he pressed the tip of the knife further into John’s neck, breaking the skin and smiling once a thin stream of purple blood began sliding down the edge of the straight blade.

“I haven’t ever dealt with the Yellow Oysters before, Richard. I’m not involved with crime, and wouldn’t ever knowingly deal with one of the syndicates on Stratus. As far as you and everyone else is concerned, I’m a law-abiding mage with a traveling license that’s valid all over the Greater Kingdoms of Thrael. Now, you’re outnumbered, and if you kill him, you’re going to die.”

Richard laughed. “I wouldn’t face your group alone. Not again.” Richard signaled, and multiple goons circled around with weapons drawn, pushing their way through the crowd and making themselves known to us. Most were human, but there were a couple dwarves, an old-looking kobold gripping a wooden staff topped with a lit candle, and what appeared to be some sort of mechanical humanoid laden with gears and a steam exhaust chimney propped up on its well-polished brass shoulder which coughed out small sooty clouds of smoke from the internal furnace smoldering from within.

Richard laughed. “As a member of the Green Oysters, I happen to know for a fact that you’re wanted by our sister syndicate, the Yellow Oysters. Their most wanted board happens to feature a well-dressed goblin who is obsessed with pumpkins! Apparently you swindled them out of a lot of gold and put a lot of people out of work. The Oysters don't forget those who wrong them."

Clarence smiled. “Who the hell thought naming syndicates after different colored oysters was a good idea? Do you know how stupid those names sound? They're not scary or intimidating at all. How do you even have self-respect with membership to an organization like that?” he started cackling wildly, and I wished he didn’t. Richard didn't seem like the type of person to stay calm under ridicule. “A group of seafood is trying to kill me, the mighty Arcane Goblin, apprentice of Palghar the Wise and Mighty Arcane Wizard of Great Bell. Seriously?” Clarence continued laughing.

“That’s it!” Richard roared, flexing his arm and driving the point of the blade further into John’s neck. The tall klor winced as more blood poured from the wound. His health bar was dripping down slowly now.

“Wait!” I shouted. We don’t want trouble. What’s the bounty on Clarence? I’m sure we could pay you more than what you’d get from taking him in.”

“It’s five thousand gold!” Richard roared. “You’re going to pay me more than that right now? Hah, I don’t think so.” Richard was done talking. He pushed the blade all the way into John’s neck, twisting it savagely like some kind of morbid drill. Kirsten screamed and shot an arcane missile, but in her drunken state, it hit John right in the gut, exploding in a cloud of hyper-charged blue sparks. John’s body sagged, and his health bar plummeted. He desperately tried to claw at the potions secured by the small loops on his belt, but Richard saw it coming from a mile away and pinned John’s arms behind his back, pushing the klor’s head forward so he would bleed faster and choke on his own blood. The tavern was growing chaotic as people screamed, fled, and cheered while they watched the fight go down, all in what seemed to be equal numbers. No one had bothered to intervene on either sides' behalf yet.

Blood was pouring from John’s wound at an alarming rate, and Gaz was trying to muster the mental ability to cast a heal spell, but he was failing miserably.

Reaching down, I grabbed Gaz’s hammer and charged forward without a plan, feeling cloudy and unbalanced on my feet as I dashed forward with the hammer cocked. Richard laughed and made a gesture to the others to begin their brutal assault. We were outnumbered, outclassed, and John only had seconds to live.

New Ability Learned!

Dimensional Recall

Quickly casting my Temporal Control ability which didn’t cost any of the nine astral power I had in reserve for my abilities, I slowed my perception of time so that everything appeared to be moving only centimeters per second. I put the point generated by the ability into dissonance, boosting my movement speed, evade chance, and hit speed by 3.33%. There was no reason to use the point for resonance since it would give defense rating which seemed to rely heavily on armor I wasn’t wearing.

I had learned the hard way that I couldn’t enter player time and be on my own game clock while I was in combat. Temporal Control had a 10 minute cooldown, and I wouldn’t be able to use it again after the ability stopped working. Player time lasted up to 20 minutes, but in this situation, I would only get a couple minutes of significantly slowed perception of time with the ability.

I quickly pulled up Dimensional Recall in my abilities tab to appraise my new ability.

Dimensional Recall (Rank 0): Temporal. Matter. 10 minute cooldown. 0 points. The character summons or stores their armor from/to the Astral dimension, instantly equipping or unequipping all pieces worn. If the character unequips their armor, they will instantly equip all previously worn non-armor clothes. Requires Warpguard armor.

Perfect. I cast the spell, and my heavy armor instantly materialized on me. It was weighing me down, but it would at least offer some protection against Richard and his goons. Taking a deep breath, I dismissed Temporal Control and the world sped to motion around me.