The dingy room was filled to the brim with countless small objects. Jars lay filled with dice in all colours and sizes, all of them loaded. Drawers were piled full with marked playing cards, coiled contraptions and foldable mirrors. And old yellowing documents lay in stacks on large shelves lining the walls.

“You are mad, Rowan! Hopelessly mad!”

Jack paced up and down his room while making wild gestures with his hands.

“You would need money that can build a nation and experts only found once in a lifetime. Listen, you walnut, Olivier runs this place! He owns most of it too, with literal armies at his side. What do you even plan to do? Steal the Thrown of Greed’s dungeon core or something?”

Rowan had seated herself on a nearby chair and was paying only half attention while using a knife to clean her hooves.

“I don’t know what that means, but I like the idea already. Maybe we can involve the Scha’vun fellows as well. I still don’t know who they are, but everyone seems to get very excited when they come up.”

“No, just no! The money it will cost, the people you will need, the enemies we will make, and all the things that can go wrong. Just-”

“Has any of that stopped us before?”

Jack halted his pacing and stared.

“We were in our prime then, Rowan. Now we are…”

“Dead, immortal, un-ageing, our minds bathing in eternal youth. We are in our prime, our eternal prime.”

Jack slumped into another chair, his hair looking puffy and his expression exhausted. The silence lingered for a while so Icid stood up and walked around, looking at dusty picture frames. There were photos of jewels, vistas, people and places, and all of them exuded a mystic grandeur. They stood layer after layer between the cards and the dice, like a shrine to the art of the shadows.

“I don’t get what you are so scared off, Jack. The worst they can do is put you behind bars, and even then you can still attempt prison break. Your life is no longer on the line, and part of you wants in. Even this very room is a palace to the life you used to live. So why are fighting back so hard?”

“Ohh, my dear friend, stop this torture. You of all people know the answer to that. To take your offer is to hold a mirror to the last decade of my life. And I am horrified to have an honest look at what I have become. To see the decay, the waste, the life I have let slip through my fingers. I know my mind and body are a mere shell of what they used to be.

I know that, Rowan. Of course, I know. But it still hurts, it hurts to look in that mirror. To wonder if you ever can make up for the time lost, if you can ever regain the greatness of the past.

No… not to regain it. That is not good enough, is it? How can you even fight for an ‘as good as it was’. The past failed us. That is why we are here. If you want to move forward, you need to desire to surpass the past. To imagine an even greater future. But when I look in that mirror, I no longer see greater glories. I see a man who has trouble climbing a set of stairs. That is why I am afraid.”

Lights danced in Rowan's jet black eyes as she watched. Then her usual toothy grin replaced with a blank expression.

“Well, the mirror is out of the bag now, and is no more putting it back. So, how does your reflection look?”

Jack swiped a bottle of spirits from a shelf and took a couple of large swigs.

“Like a man who is better off dead.”

Then he let out a sigh that seemed to carry away his very essence.

“So, have you two ever heard of Evolution Catalysts?”

Icid was the first to respond.

“Oh, those are the things you can use to ascended and body type skill, right? You can evolve up the species tree with one. Expensive and very limited in supply, I have heard. The online forms said it is far cheaper to buy character changes directly from the in-game store.”

Jack gaze turned and observed Icid for a little while.

“Well, that would be true if you were to do honest work and wanted mostly cosmetic changes. In-game stores are run directly by the AFTERLIFE and are thereby subject to real-world laws. The in-simulation citizen protection acts and stuff. They ensure basic consumer protection. But they also involve some rudimentary 1st party responsibilities like good faith dealing. This forces the companies to do some basic ‘is this good stolen’ checks, even if that goes against the simulation’s design philosophies.

We can only steal items that someone else had already bought, as stolen cash is tainted. Character Changes is a service and thus there is no item to steal. So unless you want to do white-collar work for it, that is out of the question. Even more importantly, it is impossible to get a species that has strong attributes with that system, unless you are a filthy rich. The best way to get one of those is by making random rolls for a good base character and then evolving it to something decent.

That brings us back to evolution stones. Come, take a look here.”

Jack pulled out a large map from under a big stack of paper. It displayed the city of greed along with countless marks and lines.

“These are the production sites of most high-value goods and their distribution routes. All commodities that interfere with the AFTERLIFE’s ability to sell you something have highly limited drop-rates. Or rather, they have a monthly pool of allowed drops that cannot be exceeded. The more the item is farmed, the less it drops, until it stops dropping altogether. This causes these [Spawn Limited] items to retain a permanent high value.

Evolution stones are among the most desirable, as they hold certain advantages over the Character Changes system. They drop in low-level areas dungeons/mine biome type. So for instance here, here and here.”

Icid looked over the areas he pointed out. Small marks displayed the properties of monster-infested areas in the endless city.

“And what about this one.”

She pointed at a large blob close by surrounded with countless transport routes and numerous terrain types, under which dungeon/mine was one.

“Olivier’s territory… and Scha’vun hunting ground.”

“Perfect." Rowan said.

"Now can someone finally give me a clear explanation what these Scha’vun fellows are? Everyone seems to dance around the topic like it is a taboo.”

Jack once again sighed.

“A guild of Role Play fanatics who want to put a daemon overlord on the throne of greed. That is the description you get if you distill them down to their barest essentials.”

Rowan looked perturbed for a moment.

“That sounds… childish. Why does anyone take ‘that’ seriously?”

“Time, consistency and results. The guild itself originates from a long-dead RPG simulation also made by AFTERLIFE. That game was one of the most famous ever created, but after decades of operation the competition had long since caught up. Keeping the servers operational had become a financial drain on the parent company. Years ago, it closed and its inhabitants were moved to Aard. A number of their members have been dead for longer than most people here have lived. Most of them are highly competent, intelligent and completely mental. Absolute video game fanatics to the very core. They can only think in terms of raid bosses, daemon lords and apocalyptic warfare. And all of them loathe this place.

The commercialisation, the relative peace, the stagnant political system, the stranglehold of the rich, the borked progression system, all of it. They want this world to change, to knock the current social structures to the ground. So they wreak all kinds of havoc against the top of society. Causing undead invasions, releasing dragons, stealing artefacts and engaging in general guerrilla warfare. By now they have been around so long they have become part of the scenery of Aard itself. But yea, that region has been experiencing a lot of Scha’vun’s tell-tale merrymaking as of late.

Security is on high alert and-”

“And not watching out for a simple robbery, they are watching out for maniacs. Sounds to me like they dragged additional folk from other locations to serve as a makeshift army. That means new patrol patterns, makeshift communication hierarchies and lots of poorly practised footwork to throw wrenches into. All you need is a distraction and the rest of the plan writes itself.”

Jack took another swig from his bottle.

“Fine, fine, we will do a scope of the site. We need to get you pathetic lot some levels anyway. It is a good opportunity to do some training.”

“Good, good!”

Rowan grabbed more bottles and two glasses.

“Then we can finally get this adventure started properly.”

Icid accepted a glass and peered into its murky contents. The scent of ginger, cloves and nutmeg combined with the unmistakable smell of distilled alcohol. Jack did not comment on the fact he was being served his booze in his own house, but he did make a loud nasal sound when the glass was pressed into his hand.

Rowan cleared her throat and struck a dignified pose. Or at least Icid guessed that was her intent. But as a goat it looked more like she was making a desperate attempt to look over the table.

“My beloved old friend and lovely new spider apprentice. We have few in number, but I feel we have the foundation of something great. I had hoped it would have been easier to get old comrades to join, but for now, we will have to make do without. This world to me, I must say, is a confusing piece troll intestines. But it matters not, as you two seem to find a semblance of logic where I fail to see any. On the other hand, humans are still humans, even if they are now spiders. So I hope my old world knowledge may still come in handy. And I firmly believe that, with your assistance, we will be capable of separating this ream’s sheep from their wool. Cheers!”

Everyone took a large swig from their glass of mystery alcohol. Jack topped off the glasses again and took the word. His tone was slower than at the bar, but there was a power behind it that felt equally pleasing.

“My old friend and my new friend. I am a fat worn out blob, and you two are out of your league. The last time I heard anything about a Capra achieving something it was as a living football. And Miss Icid, your social skills are so poor that they might rank below your current level count. But you made it to here and together we might make it even further.

Tomorrow I will request to tag along with some of the Rattling Ravens as they go on their daily raid into the Palace of Roots. This will bring us right to the heart of Oliver’s operation, tagging along with the very people who delve for the rare drops. We can gather the intel on the sight and gain some hard needed skills and levels in one fell swoop.

They will be reluctant to take you, as you are absolute scrubs, but I will put in a good word. It will be dangerous at your current rank and the penalty for death is severe. But if old Oil and his apprentice cannot even get themselves through a dungeon… then this whole operation is pointless anyway. Cheers!”

Another load of pleasant brown goop went down and Icid felt the world spin. She was not used to drinking, and this was heavy stuff. But she was not going to let that stop her. Tonight was turning into a good night, and it sounded like tomorrow was going to be better. So she was going to let the wind steer the ship, and walk down this strange road.

Glasses were topped off again, and the night blurred together in a clutter of memories laced with cinnamon.

Party Quest Complete: Better Get Jack

Members: Sarcastic Goat and Complainy Spider

Jack joined your ragtag group of fools at last! At this rate, you lot will be a mere 1254 years old by the time you reach Olivier’s doorstep. Luckily, you have made plans to finally go make plans to do an inspection of a place to later maybe go do something useful at.

Progress.

Also, the spider is now a regular Arachne instead of a Lesser one, rejoice!

She gets… I dunno… [Webbing Instinct], that would be funny I guess. You instinctively know things about building webs now. And to make it interesting you get the un-suppressible urge to build them occasionally, rejoice!

Now go get your stats appraised already, so I can tell you something useful next time, or I will give you even weirder abilities.

Be warned.

Party Quest Gained: A Good Old Dungeon Run

Members: Goat, Spider and Mustache

Now you will set out to make an inspection of the Palace of Roots, a famous low to mid-level dungeon. You are under leveled for it, but surely it will all be fine. We only have the Scha’vun, the authorities, the King of Greed, and monsters in a single place. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?