They had exactly two hours to catch up with Wally before he ended up at The Emperor’s Badger. Yet Carey couldn’t pass up an opportunity that arose on the path through the mountains.

“Is that…” Will began.

Carey nodded. “An enemy outpost.”

If there was one type of videogame Carey found most addictive, it was first-person shooters like the Far Cry series where you had the freedom to roam an open world and take out enemy outposts. He especially loved that last part—the addictive challenge of scouting, infiltrating, looting, and killing each outpost required to win it for the good guys. It was like crack to him.

“We can’t pass this up,” Carey said, scanning the area a mile ahead of his party, using his Feral vision to pick out small details in the distance.

“We could, but… nah, let’s do it,” Will said.

Bea groaned. “We’re going to be late.”

“Wally can wait,” Carey said, his voice bordering on a whine.

“Yeah, he can wait,” Min-joon agreed. “He can go drink some beer bottles.”

“Attaboy,” Carey said. “Hey, what if I turned into my owl form and scouted the base?”

Ara flashed her index finger, somewhat like a cute professor in front of a bunch of college students. “Don’t forget to use the marking system.”

“Marking,” Carey said. “Wait, you mean…”

She nodded. “When it comes to an outpost, any bad guys you see can be marked, so you can keep track of their movements.”

“Friggin’ sweet,” Carey said and immediately phased into his owl form.

“Don’t get shot down,” Ara shouted after him. He barely heard her as he flapped past the tree boughs into open sky, the wind tickling his feathers.

Approaching the outpost from the west, Carey allowed himself a moment to appreciate the sparkling blue ocean stretching to infinity in the distance. The impressive buildings and towers of Tyrathon sprawled across the coast.

He was about a thousand yards away. His incredible eyesight—even better than his Feral-human sight—allowed him to pick out individual archers in their guard towers, armored men walking around, carrying large swords, and robed Low Mages flinging spells at practice dummies, encapsulating them in ice, lighting them on fire, or causing them to be wrapped instantly in thorny vines.

There were other beings as well, only these were clearly not enemies. Hunched, skinny, dispirited. Some with tails, others with wings, all of them looked malnourished. Carey counted what must have been a dozen slaves carrying wooden logs, shiny soldiers’ boots, or lugging pails of drinking water.

You have reached Tholfax’s Crossing.

EXPERIENCE GAINED: 50 points (2,280/22,875 to next level)

Tholfax. Sounded like a Low Mage name. Like Headmaster Fellox, mentioned by the apprentices he’d encountered on his first day. As if putting an X into your name made you sound creepier and more sinister.

~SIDE QUEST~

THOLFAX’S CROSSING

Recommended Level: 9

Outposts Conquered: 0 / 56

Help infiltrate Tholfax’s Crossing and kill all enemies, freeing the slaves. Or assassinate the outpost commander to destroy morale and scatter the enemy presence. If you choose the moral path, the Forge will reward you for your efforts. If you choose the path of Low Karma, they will shun you.

LOW KARMA OPTION: Convince the lieutenant’s personal slave to sacrifice his own life by setting off Cluster Bombs stored in his master’s chest.

XP REWARD: 4,720

The outpost was tiny overall, with only six stone buildings surrounding a dirt clearing on which a few military wagons sat idly. Two stables contained the black levathons needed to carry the vehicles, and the entire outpost was protected by four walls made of straight wooden logs sharpened at the tips.

One of the buildings was made of shiny black stone. A red banner covered in elaborate gold symbols hung by the main door.

I’ll bet that’s where I’ll find the commander. But I have to get there first. It’s right out in the open.

It seemed hopeless. How could they possibly take on all these enemies? There were close to a dozen enemies outside, not to mention the ones he’d probably find inside the buildings.

At one point, Carey noticed an archer looking up at him. Probably hoping for some target practice—or maybe he suspected a Feral spy—the archer lifted his bow and took aim.

Uh oh. Abort!

Carey tilted his wings suddenly, now cutting across the air in a slightly altered direction, narrowly avoiding the arrow. These marksmen were experts apparently. Perfectly capable of shooting a bird right out of the sky. He loosed another arrow, but Carey was too far away.

When he returned, Min-joon was grinning happily.

“What’d you see?”

Ara, Will, and Bea watched Carey, eager for an update. Carey described what he’d seen and how many enemies he’d counted. He estimated there were probably twelve to fifteen enemies total.

“If we stealth ’em, maybe we can take ’em,” Min-joon said. “Right, Carey?”

“We shouldn’t take the risk, but then again, winning this game requires us to be at Level 40, right? None of us are at more than 14, which is a problem. At this rate, we’ll never get high-level enough.”

“But if you stealth the outpost,” Bea said, “what should Will and I do? Can’t just fly down there. That’ll screw everything up.”

“You’re right,” Carey said. “But I have an idea.”

***

Buffed to the nines by a few of Bea’s spells, Carey and Min-joon circled the outpost until the coast was clear. They scampered up its west-facing wall, then climbed a ladder halfway up one of the guard towers. Carey used his Stone of Binding to hit a wooden beam, distracting the archer he’d known would be up there—the enemy was marked by an icon, thanks to Carey’s owl reconnaissance earlier—and he and Min-joon sneak-attacked him at the same time, Min-joon landing a critical strike.

Their sneak-attack-and-takedown method proved excellent as a way of getting extra XP. Plus, Carey was having the time of his life.

From this vantage point, he was able to get a different perspective on enemy movements and posts. He found two more that were unmarked and marked them. So far, he counted eleven enemy soldiers, two of them Ferals, one a Dark Acolyte healer, and about twice as many slaves.

The “dark” Ferals were different in a way that both thrilled and scared the crap out of him. Instead of furry tails, these pale men in black-dyed leather armor had the tails of insects. Known as “Pestilents,” these fighters could turn into enormous insects of all different sorts. Scorpions, mosquitoes, wasps. He shuddered just thinking about it. Best to avoid them.

Inside the guard tower, Carey opened a small chest and received several items:

(1) Boots of Darkest Leather

(3) Simple Healing Balm

(1) Cloth Pants of the Shadow People

(15) Iron Shards

“Whoa,” Carey said, holding up the silk pants. “+10 to stealth and a two percent chance when striking an enemy to render oneself invisible for 15 seconds. Hot damn.”

The boots weren’t bad, either. They had an armor rating of 5 (+1.5) and were enchanted so that each of his footsteps, for a time, left a barely visible, magical patch on the ground. Any enemy who stepped directly on one or more of those patches had a 5 percent chance of becoming ensnared by a gnarled root.

Sweet! He put those on immediately.

Seeing the way Carey was admiring the pants, Min-joon turned away sullenly.

“What’s the matter, buddy?” Carey asked the boy-thief. “You know what? Here, you take these.”

Min-joon shook his head. “I’m good. I have the same ones, except mine are made of silk and they add twenty to stealth and a five percent chance of invisibility. If I knew you liked them so much, I would’ve given them to you.”

Carey placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently shook him. “Don’t go giving all your stuff away. You won’t last another day in this place.”

“I know.” Min-joon shrugged and smiled at him, his orange eyes flashing, tail swinging. “But I like helping people.”

“You’re better off helping yourself, especially a pint-sized runt like you.”

Min-joon chuckled loudly. Carey shushed him and mussed up his hair. He discarded the pants he’d been wearing previously and put on his brand-new “shadow people” pants and his black leather boots. He also quickly looted the archer’s body, taking (25) Basic Wood Arrows, (2) Minor Stamina Flasks, and—thank you very much!—an Icicle Short Bow, which did 9/sec worth of damage, had a quickness of Medium as opposed to the Basic Wood Bow’s “Slow” rating, and also weighed less. The enchantment added +3 Freezing damage and a 5 percent chance to blind the enemy by making icicles grow over their eyes for 15 seconds.

“This gets better and better by the minute,” Carey said, licking his lips and making his fangs descend so he could tongue the sharp points.

Min-joon grinned at him and raised a hand, like an overeager student in a classroom. They high-fived, then climbed down the tower, Min-joon taking his mouse form and Carey gliding down in his owl shell.

A Pestilent soldier had stopped nearby to clean dog poop from the bottom of his boot using a stick. His hairless, silvery tail swung behind him, and he was frowning and hissing in disgust. He held a wicked-looking crossbow that was painted black.

Carey tossed the Stone of Binding behind the building, where it made a ka-thunk-a-thunk sound as it bounced off two water barrels.

“Hunh?” The Pestilent forgot about the mess on the bottom of his boot and raised the crossbow, quick as lightning. “Who’s there?”

He crept toward the sound. Shadows enveloped him, and his body became nearly invisible thanks to his high stealth skill. Only his insectile eyes seemed to glow.

Carey and Min-joon crept up to the Pestilent, their own hunkered forms blending with the shadows, and executed Takedown attacks. Min-joon’s was deflected at the last moment, as the Pestilent whipped around and clawed at the boy’s face with sharp fingernails.

Carey dodged around the Pestilent, then executed a grappling move. As he pressed his arm around the soldier’s neck to keep him from screaming in alarm—the Pestilent’s metallic, needle-like tail slithering furiously between them like a trapped tapeworm—Min-joon stabbed him repeatedly.

When the Pestilent had only 10 HP left, he transformed into a giant mosquito. The buzzing noise was loud enough to rattle Carey’s eardrums. It made his teeth vibrate and his stomach churn. The mosquito was certainly loud enough to alert the rest of the outpost.

Zip. A tiny blade whipped past Carey’s face. The buzzing ceased. The mosquito dropped to the ground like a sack of laundry—one that happened to have hideous silvery legs and a feeding tube that lay bent across the ground.

Min-joon was grinning victoriously, still standing in an expert knife-thrower’s pose.

“Nice one,” Carey said, eyeing his activity log.

The boy had pulled off another critical strike using the throwing knife, doing 25 damage and saving their asses at the last second.

“Did you create a crit-strike character build or something?” Carey asked.

“You noticed,” Min-joon said, genuinely pleased. “I love critical strikes.”

“I can tell. Nice work, bud!”

This outpost had been a great idea so far. And man, those XP gains! They received just over 1,000 points each for taking down the Pestilent.

They made their way around the outpost, keeping close to the outer wall and picking enemies that happened to be alone. The soldiers in this base were not a sociable bunch. Only once did he see two of them talking. When they finally split, he went after the one with the weaker level, lured him behind a building using the Stone of Binding, and took him out.

Carey used his Icicle Short Bow and arrows to take out a Mangy Dog with burning, hate-filled red eyes and mottled fur. His bow’s freezing enchantment served him well. A layer of icicles clapped over the dog’s eyes with a misty smacking noise, cartoonish but effective. Temporarily blinded, the dog crouched and darted off to the side. Min-joon took the opportunity to sneak behind it and kill it with a Takedown.

Carey had nocked an arrow but hadn’t needed it. Min-joon was every bit as quick and deadly as the flashing knives he kept throwing.

Carey had been noticing something about their attacks. The boy’s sneak attacks with a blade were doing much more damage than his own. Min-joon must have had the Black Knife and Backstabber Halvas. Carey wished he’d invested in those, though he didn’t regret upgrading his skills with the bow—each arrow he successfully landed while hidden from his target did as much as 50 percent more damage.

They cleared the outpost of all enemies stationed outside. This involved killing three more dogs and scaring the bejesus out of two slaves, one of who dropped her basket of what smelled like mint leaves and rosemary.

“Shhh…” Carey told her, holding a finger to his lips.

She seemed to understand and nodded once, quickly picking up her basket and disappearing into one of the buildings.

The other slave was an old man with tattered, grimy white wings. He grinned at Carey and Min-joon, even winked at them and gave them a thumbs-up. He clearly had no love for the soldiers Carey and Min-joon kept turning into corpses.

As they passed, the old man whispered to them.

“He keeps Cluster Bombs in his storage chest. I know how to set them off.”

This was the “Low Karma” part of the mission. Apparently, this old man could be convinced to set off the Cluster Bombs and take out the commander, killing himself in the process. It was tempting. The old man was just code, after all.

And yet, Carey couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“We’ll keep you alive for now,” he told the old man. “Just keep quiet.”

Gleaming tears welled in the old man’s eyes.

“May the Gods bless you both,” he said.

Carey and Min-joon crouched behind one of the buildings and peered around the corner.

“The commander must still be in there,” Carey said, studying the officers’ building. “How many men do you think are inside?”

“Beats me,” Min-joon said. “Three? Four?”

“Could be. This is where it gets good.”

Carey threw the Stone of Binding at the door, where it thumped loudly against the wood. He opened his palm and the stone returned. Another throw yielded another obnoxious thump.

The door was flung open and a bearded, barrel-chested soldier in chainmail stepped out, brandishing a gleaming longsword. He wielded it expertly with only one hand.

“Sargonaut,” Carey said. “Look at those stats.”

Lvl. 9 Sargonaut Lieutenant (Tholfax Faction)

HP: 362/362

SP: 545/545

LP: 80/80

“Damn it,” said Min-joon. “Damn it, damn it, damn it.”

“Shhh… We need to think.”

The Sargonaut stepped out into the afternoon sunlight, his eyes searching the grounds for signs of an intruder. Seeing nothing—literally nobody, not even his own comrades—he used his broad-bladed sword to momentarily shield his eyes from the sun.

“Hello?” he shouted in a full baritone. “Men? You fools, how dare you abandon your posts! This is Lieutenant Hawk. If any of you hear me, you had better step out into the open and explain yourselves!”

There was only silence.

“Curse the gods,” he said and ducked back into the building.

“Now,” Carey said.

He and Min-joon darted toward the door and quickly took care of business, then darted back around the nearest building. Carey threw the Stone of Binding once more.

Hearing gruff cursing from inside, Carey held his breath. His heart thumped against his rib cage. His pulse hammered.

The door flung open once more.

The Sargonaut stood in the doorway.

He stepped out.

BUH-BOOM!

The Exploding Sticky Bear Traps both went off at almost the same time, sending the Sargonaut flying backward, and a huge column of gray smoke momentarily obscured the doorway. The force slammed several of the carriages parked nearby, sending them sliding in the opposite direction.

When the smoke cleared, they saw the Sargonaut return, covered in soot and a dark substance like maple syrup which was still flaming all over his body. He looked enraged as he charged into the clearing outside.

The traps had chopped 115 points off his total Health. Should have done more, but he was well armored. Not to mention he was a Sargonaut.

“We’re under attack,” the lieutenant shouted, wiping at the flames and the sticky substance, as another 4 HP vanished, followed by 3 more.

Two soldiers darted out of the building, swords ready. These men were only Level 8 and were shorter, less broad-shouldered, wielding short swords instead of long ones. They wore heavy armor made of metal, but at least they weren’t Sargonauts, thank God.

“Here goes,” Carey said.

A roaring, sizzling, machine-gun-fire series of flaming balls made loud phwump-phwump-phwump noises as they coursed through the air. They smacked into the soldiers and the lieutenant, all six hitting their mark, so brightly lit Carey had to look away.

Carey shouted up at Will, who stood on the roof of a nearby building exactly where Beatrice had dropped him.

“I love you, man!”

Grinning, Will flashed him a thumbs-up. The attack had drained 43 points off the lieutenant.

Min-joon tapped Carey’s arm to get his attention, then threw himself into action, ducking and swiveling around the nearest soldier for a sneak attack that was nowhere near effective. All three soldiers were aware of their presence.

Carey found himself engaged in a personal battle with the Sargonaut, as the other soldier went to deal with Will.

“You’ll be okay!”

It was Beatrice. She had dropped out of the sky to land behind him. Carey felt instantly refreshed and euphoric as a series of spells buffed him in rapid succession.

“Don’t forget MJ,” he shouted over his shoulder at her.

The boy seemed to be doing okay with the soldier, but it was hard to tell for sure—and this wasn’t the time to study the battlefield. The whole time Bea was buffing Carey, the Sargonaut lieutenant took his time restoring his HP. Carey watched him down a gallon-size potion that instantly brought his HP up 65 points.

“No, no, no, no, no…” Carey scanned his quick-inventory slots, brought out his Icicle Short Bow, and simultaneously cast Rapid Nocker, his racial ability which sped up all firing and reloading with a bow x10 for 30 seconds.

In a few blinks of an eye, he’d fired six arrows. One succeeded in covering the upper half of the Sargonaut’s face with a misting, ice-blue sheet of icicles.

“Grrrr-aagghh!”

The Sargonaut beat at his own face, trying to break the ice. But it didn’t work that way; the icicles broke into chips and shards, but the spell created new ice in its place and would continue to do so for 15 seconds.

Carey used the short amount of time to help Min-joon with his attacker. Together, they took down the soldier while the lieutenant raged and roared and struggled to remove the ice.

With the enemy soldier down, Carey picked up Min-joon and threw him toward Bea.

“Heal!”

As Carey spun back to face the Sargonaut, a bright magical blast seared his eyes and made his skin tingle as if covered by ants—and yet there was no pain, only mild discomfort. Crackling fiercely, the strike was in fact a bundle of lightning bolts tied together by strands of wriggling, sizzling light—a shower of electricity that seemed powerful enough to light the entire outpost on fire.

BRRRRSSSSHHHHTTTT!

The Sargonaut lieutenant’s unbreakable body smashed the officers’ quarters into thousands of loose stones and broken clay bits and wrecked beams of wood, basically taking out the entire building.

Carey ignored the dust stinging his eyes and sprang to action. While the Sargonaut was on his back, Carey struck at him with his blade, doing almost no damage. But his Steel Dagger of Reckoning had the benefit of +3 bleeding damage. If he could stack enough of those…

The Sargonaut grabbed him around the neck. He grinned at Carey, his rectangular face covered in a layer of soot and dust, as if to say, Gotcha! Then he crouched and launched himself straight up, bypassing the ruins of the building’s roof and taking Carey a good forty feet above the ground. They hung in the air for a split second during which Carey felt like he was on a rollercoaster loosed from its tracks, about to smash into the ground and crush him into a bloody paste.

They dropped with such fearsome force it could only have been a special attack. The Sargonaut slammed Carey into the ground.

They didn’t bounce—rather, they sank.

The force of the Sargonaut’s attack crushed the concrete floor, sending cracks in every direction, Carey descending a good four or five inches below ground level, so strong was the impact.

DrollTroll suffers 92 crushing damage

“Fuck… my life,” Carey said weakly, unable to breathe. He activated one of his Simple Healing Balms and rubbed it into his fingers and palm. It added 45 HP and he felt a little better.

Lying on top of Carey, the Sargonaut lifted one of his ham-hock fists—raised it so far that his entire body curved, just to get those extra few inches, and then he slammed it into Carey’s chest with the force of a snow-plow-equipped truck ramming into and demolishing an innocent snowbank.

DrollTroll suffers 66 crushing damage

No… please no… not yet…

The Sargonaut punched him two—or was it three?—more times. Carey couldn’t even keep track anymore. His vision turned red, the world darkened, and the last thing Carey saw was the Sargonaut’s black-bearded face, the man’s smile so wide he looked like someone who’d just won the lottery.

PLEADING MODE, read the notification at the bottom of Carey’s vision.

Yes! 15 seconds! They can still save me!

The Sargonaut chuckled. The timer had begun to count down, not that the Sargonaut could see it, but he seemed to know.

“No one can save you now,” he breathed into Carey’s face.

13… 12…

Carey sputtered as he tried to grab the Sargonaut’s wrist and move it away. But it was like trying to pull out a tree root woven miles deep into the earth.

10…

Beatrice! She had found a Resurrection Elixir on Torg Boss Ruckus’s corpse. Now was the time! Carey needed it!

But where was she?

9…

Come on! Where are you, Bea! Resurrect me!

Will and Beatrice were nowhere to be seen. It was too late. There was too much rubble everywhere. They would never see him. They’d never get past the Sargonaut.

6… 5…

“I will eat your soul, you little rat,” the Sargonaut said with a chuckle.

3… 2…

No… Please…

1…

0.