They reached Wrenderwyrd’s Alter without delay. The path from the inn, leading them back towards the steps up to Sunbright Plains. They took a right before reaching them, although through the mist Mythril could see them ascending between the two cliff edges beside them.

The noises in the dark as their mounts charged them forwards were more terrifying than when they were only voices in the mist. Now, in the silence of the night, above the sound of claws upon the ground, hammering the earth as they moved fast towards Bestie, the laughter was offset with whispering. At times Mythril wasn’t sure if it was something nearby or conversations that reached him muted and muffled through the shadows. He could see small fires as the rode, off the track of the path and in the distance. They glowed, and wavered in the mist. Nothing about them looked comforting, and he was glad whenever they would ride past them and continue on towards Wenderwyrd’s Alter.

He slowed Audreg down as he saw Selrah and Jumin come more clearly into view. Ahead of them were tall stones, arranged in a semi-circle but separated by a few feet between them. They varied in height and in width, some had another placed atop them, and others stood alone. Amongst the stones, Mythril could see creatures moving through the suffocating fog.

His ears felt uncomfortable and he moved his hands to rub against them. The whispers he heard as they rode, they seeped down to his ear drum and waited, muttering words that were indecipherable.

“Before we go any further, let me buff you both with [Whispers of the Gloam],” Selrah said, dismounting from her lion. “It will stop their chanting leaving you with a disorientation debuff.”

She approached Mythril first, her dagger appeared in her hand, the blade dulled in the moonlight but fitting in the mist of the Lowlands. She waved it over Mythril’s head, a brief sensation of the same disorientation she hoped to dispel overcame him, but it soon left and the whispers were now audible conversations.

“And twice, he came and said upon us that twice we should strike down the ones that question and count in threes and ones.”

It was better that he could hear what was being said, but it made no more sense than the inaudible whispering.

Jumin stood beside him, back in the form of a noxiri. He held his staff beside him and shuddered after Selrah placed [Whispers of the Gloam] upon him. “Why do I have a feeling we’re either going to find Bestie stuck in a grave yard or mad with the whispering debuffs?” he said, his voice sounding uncertain even in his attempt to joke.

“We probably will,” Selrah said. “These tribes look easy, but they’re not. They’re tricky. What form will you take?” she asked Jumin.

“It depends what you need. If you and Mythril are going to provide damage then I can take aggro from you.”

“That’s important,” Selrah said with a nod of her head after she had finished waving the dagger above it. “If they can crowd me then they will, and they won’t allow me to cast. I’ll be useless. From what I remember there will be minions. Mythril, you take out the minions when they run towards us, Jumin you pull the larger ones, those are the brawlers, and I’ll cast [Forsaken Grasp] and try to keep the weaker ones away while I summon Gloam minions to take them out. It will be gloam on gloam, so they won’t be weak or strong against one another. Are you both ready?”

“Wait, wait,” Jumin said, jumping back out of his bear form. “If I’m going to be in this form for the duration of the battle I’ll cast [Druid’s Fury] on you. It’s a bit of a wisdom drain but when in bear form it will give you both extra stamina and strength.”

Jumin held up his staff, the feathers blowing lightly in the wind and the drizzle knocking against the acorns they were attached to. This buff did little other than give Mythril a sudden feeling of pride, a sensation he was ready for anything. It quickly dispelled but he trusted the buff was still in place.

“Am I charging in or is Mythril? You’re on a knight’s path, yeah?”

“He is, but you charge,” Selrah answered. “I want Mythril to stay close to me.”

Mythril felt a little let down that he hadn’t been able to answer Jumin’s question, for once he knew the answer.

He was able to sulk for a mere moment before Jumin charged in. Without hesitation that tribe turned towards him. Jumin raised himself onto his back legs before crashing down on the earth, causing it to tremble beneath the enemies feet, sending them walking in circles in disarray.

“Just keep the minions off me,” Selrah said as from beside her the same imp from before hopped into view. In the mist the green flames that encircled its horns and shone in its palms looked like a trickster’s fire, the kind that might lead you astray and into the depths of a bog. It laughed and yelped from beside her before racing towards a number of the gloam creatures that had been held tight in Selrah’s [Forsaken Grasp].

Mythril’s sword appeared in his hand, and he raised it as a number of imps, smaller and without flames, came racing from beside the trapped mob towards Selrah. He charged them, striking them each down after a dozen blows between them.

“Behind you, Jumin!” Selrah called.

Mythril turned to see that a brawler, bigger than the rest, lumbered towards him. Although brawlers these enemies wore the same cloaks that the smaller mobs did, but their staves were bigger, the horns that stuck out from the top of the wood also larger. Unlike how the weaker mobs used magic and sent out fireballs towards Selrah and Jumin, the brawler’s staves lit up with red flames that they struck upon Jumin.

Mythril was sure that Jumin faltered, and seeing this he charged with [Knight’s Blaze] towards him, and in against the brawler.

“No!”

Selrah cried out too late. A little way across from where they battled, another group of gloam creatures had continued with their muttering and whispering, ignoring the fight that happened nearby. Mythril’s attack brought their attention right to them, and soon the brawlers of this group were charging Mythril, the smaller of them casting spells that struck upon him.

Every hit left him feeling weaker, the spells stung and the strikes from the brawler came down heavy against his arms. He felt the stamina slipping from his body, he heard Selrah cry out again but not her words.

He lifted his blade, struck out at the brawler that was attacking only him. Jumin rounded on them, again raising himself onto his back legs, this time swiping out with his claws as well. Once with the right, then again with the left.

In front of him Mythril became aware of the similar ripple to the one he had seen back at Buckberry Farm, this one, however, was blue. Similar to waves sloshing gently in the ocean, they shimmered in front of him. He became invigorated, the energy that he had lost once more within him. He struck blow after blow upon the brawler, eventually it fell.

“On me,” he heard Selrah scream. “On me!”

He turned to see that the smaller minions had got through, and Selrah was completely surrounded by them. Every attempt she made to raise her staff was blocked down, because of this, as Mythril began to charge towards them, he saw that the creatures she kept at bay with [Forsaken Grasp] had come free.

“The minions,” he heard Selrah call over the top of their horned heads. “Take out the minions and I can recast on their spellcasters.”

It didn’t take long before the minions were down, but by this point the gloam casters had approached and were sending streaks of a green lightning through the mist, their staves raised high above it. Their chanting was becoming infuriating, over and over they muttered nonsense. The buff against the disorientation may have been working, but in the commotion their constant chatter was leading Mythril to feel flustered.

“I’ve got you covered, friends!”

The shout came from somewhere in the distance, but it was loud enough to boom over the commotion. He turned his head to see Bestie standing just off to the side of them. He held a mace in one hand and a shield in another, yet it appeared to be only the mace he was using. White light shining across its hammer, and glistening down the handle. He swung it in the air, raised it high and Mythril again saw the ripples of blue surround him.

“A paladin?” he asked Selrah, who looked just as confused as he did. “I thought he was some kind of damage roll?”

“No idea,” she said, lifting her dagger and staff and then bringing them down with force. The legs of the gloam’s casters were caught in the hands of the dead, giving Selrah the opportunity to walk back from them. No minions were in sight and only one caster remained for Selrah to take down.

Mythril turned back to Jumin, who fought with such strength the casters were falling faster than they had before. He charged in to fight beside him, Selrah soon coming up close behind. She immobilized a number of casters, giving Jumin the chance to draw the brawlers back with him. While he continued to battle them with Mythril, Selrah set about taking down the final casters.

“Minions” she called out, drawing Mythril’s attention to the tiny imps as they sprinted towards her.

“On it!” he shouted back, using [Knight’s Blaze] to charge towards them.

The battle was soon over, loot bags surrounding the three of them. Three soon became four when Bestie, mounted for no reason given the short distance, rode over to them on his ornately decorated horse.

“Not bad,” he said, a broad grin across his face.

He hopped down from the horse and along with Jumin began to loot the bags from the ground. Unlike the simple rope bound bags Mythril had seen back at Buckberry Farm some of these had buckles, and soon Jumin even approached them with a chest.

“It’s wooden, but there might be something in here,” he said, shaking it beside his ear. “How are we going to play this if it’s reagents?”

Mythril looked over Selrah’s shoulder as she pulled out her scroll and swiped across to PARTY. He could see a stack of coins and beside it an ever-growing number as Bestie continued to loot the bags on the ground.

“We should just roll for it,” she said, clicking on set of black die beneath the stack of coins. “If we need it of course. I’m not interested in over cluttering my bags with herbs I’ll have to shift through at home.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jumin replied, placing the chest on the ground.

He opened it and then tipped out the contents, seeing what the rest did too late, he groaned when the items disappeared beneath the mist. Using his hands, he began to rummage on the ground, and then into the air he pulled a bow. “No one needs this I guess?” he said, waving it in Bestie’s direction.

“I can see what was in the chest that we can roll for,” Selrah said, pointing at her scroll.

Mythril pulled out his own and quickly opened PARTY. Beneath the die there was now a list of items, beside each of them the words yes and no. Above them, it simply said roll. There was nothing on the list that he wanted, and nothing that he was sure whether or not he needed.

Selrah, he could see, had clicked YES on a number of the herbs, but NO on any of the other items.

The herbs now glowed on Mythril’s scroll, and clicking on each one he saw that beneath the herbs name was Selrah and, once Jumin had pulled out his own scroll, Jumin’s name also appeared.

He watched in awe as these switched and changed.

[Wyvern’s Whisker]

Selrah

Jumin

Out of curiosity, he clicked yes on the herb, and then back to the list.

[Wyvern’s Whisker]

Selrah

Jumin

Mythril

“Are you rolling for Selrah,” Jumin suddenly asked, irritation in his voice. “Because that’s not fair, don’t do that.”

Mythril didn’t feel guilt, he felt amusement. He wanted to click on each of the items just to see his name pop up but he held back and waited instead for the party to roll. Like him, Bestie only chose a couple of items to bid on.

After the die was rolled, numbers appeared by their names, and to his delight Mythril, and Jumin’s clear annoyance, he saw that he had won the herb.

[Wyvern’s Whisker]

Selrah 10 Jumin 15

Mythril 18

The winning number glowed. He swiped to beneath this and saw that beneath the title MEMBERS each of their portraits were displayed, portraits that he hadn’t previously scrolled down to. Under them there was a list of all the items and monies they had earned. Bestie had a larger stack of gold than the rest, and to Mythril’s embarrassment, you could see the rusted dagger he had looted from Buckberry Farm. He clicked on the MEMBERS tab and closed back out of the screen.

“Well,” Selrah said once they had each rolled and divided up the loot. Anything rolled on automatically went into their satchel, their money doing the same as it was looted. “As fun as that was,” she said as she jumped up and onto the lions back. “It would seem as though I was right in saying that Bestie did not need our help. So, more time wasted.”

“Actually, I was stuck,” Bestie said. “I have no idea how many times I needed to be brought back at the graveyard and run back here. I lost a lot of gear, in the end I switched to wearing items I didn’t mind losing, but this only left me weaker against the gloam creatures.”

“I don’t want to hear about gear,” Selrah said, fixing her eyes on Mythril. “You realize when you charged in like you did, in that gear, and I’m not going to ask why you thought it was a good idea to wear that, you nearly went down. If not for Bestie’s sudden appearance you’d have been making the same run back as him.”

Mythril looked down to his gear. He had never had chance to change at Sindre’s request, and instead he remained in the same mismatch of clothing he had been wearing the entire time. He went to speak, but then with no answer, opted to shrug instead.

“Are you going as a group back to the fields?” Bestie asked, once he was mounted on his horse. It flicked its mane in pride. Beside it, Audreg mimicked it, flicking her bow, only to follow this by hissing and spitting a wad of phlegm on the ground.

“Why are you using that thing?” Selrah said, as her lion rolled its shoulders and turned its attention to the ostrich.

Mythril didn’t like the look in its eye, and so wasted no time in mounting Audreg. “Because she’s a good ostrich, aren’t you? You’re a good ostrich, yes you are,” he patted her on the head, avoiding her beak as it reared round on him trying to bite him. “Yes, you are, yes you are.”

Jumin burst out laughing beside him, Bestie nodded his approval, and Selrah turned her lion away.

“We need to go,” she said, as her lion started to pace towards the path. “If we’re moving as a group then we are moving now.”

It wasn’t long before the group moved quietly up the stairs, across Sunbright Plains which was now awake with owls that hooted from trees and foxes that shuffled through the grasses. Through the woodlands Mythril ignored the eerie laughter from the trees, the sound he was sure was coming from the gnolls, but something about it made his skin crawl.

“Before we go,” Jumin said whilst in his panther form, once they had reached the fields. “Let’s add each other to our LEGACY, I’d at least like to group up again.”

“You want to add me?” Bestie said.

There was a pause, but Mythril knew that Jumin didn’t have it in him to say no. “Of course,” he said, instead, swallowing back the saliva that had gathered in his mouth whilst he’d tried to rush a decision. He transformed into noxiri, and each of them pulled out their scrolls. Selrah’s was turned towards Mythril and he copied her movements.

“Done,” Jumin said, and as he did, in front of him, much like how quest scrolls opened a brown weathered piece of paper opened.

Jumin of Hexwood has requested you to be his friend.

ACCEPT DECLINE

“Too fast,” Selrah said, as Mythril clicked accept. He thought she was talking to him but it was Jumin she was looking at. “Do you just add everyone for the extra points in Conversation?”

Jumin feigned insult, pulling his hand to his chest and allowing the jaw of his skull to drop down. “Why yes,” he said with a smile, “Well, I used to. Now, it’s much more convenient to only add people you want to play with. Did you know that although you get extra points for being the one to initiate the invite, you’re docked them double if you remove the friend before two moons have passed?”

“I didn’t know that,” Selrah replied. “I don’t add people without reason.

“I’m never added,” Bestie joined in.

In the awkward silence that followed, Mythril, as often the instigator of such silences in his own world, decided it was his duty to break it. Until Audreg decided she would do it for him. Given her seemingly instant dislike of the horse, he was unsure if she had actually been aiming for Bestie’s pony, or Bestie, when she spread out her wings and flapped them ceremoniously smacking Bestie over the back of the head.

The troll flinched forward. “Pretty much the reaction I usually get.”

“It’s not you,” Mythril hurried to say, “It’s Audreg.” Thankfully she backed him up with a hiss.

“And the words that follow,” Bestie replied. He grinned at Mythril, leaving the two of them and Jumin to laugh.

Selrah, Mythril noticed when he glanced over, was staring towards the path that would lead them home. Something in his stomach tied, back at home, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act with Selrah. Oddly, given they were supposed to be soulbound, she had shown little to no interest in him the entire time they had been together. He hoped that this would continue when they were back at home.

“Best get off then,” Jumin said. “I live in the Guild House, they get pretty funny if you’ve been out for a while without the guild. Especially, if you return late.”

“What,” Mythril said as Jumin transformed back into a panther of sticks and bone, “Do they suspect you of trying to join another guild?”

To this Jumin replied with only a grin, his teeth white and sharp in the night that was only lit by the moon that cast its glow over the open expanse of the field. He raced off towards the town where they had first met.

“I’m that way,” Bestie said, urging his horse forward. “I’m going to see if I can catch up, I’ve been desperate for a guild since my last one kicked me out.”

Both gone this left Mythril and Selrah to begin their journey back to the portal that would lead them to the floating island.

A day, Mythril thought, all of this in a day. He was unsure as to when he had arrived, only knowing that it had been early morning, and from the position of the moon he could see that it was well into the night hours. But so much had happened, and as they reached the portal, he remembered how inept he had been when he first arrived. He hadn’t even been able to use the stone to transport him to the fields where they now stood.

Selrah dismounted from her lion, which disappeared from beside her with a tap and removing her scroll from her bag, soon held the stone in her hand that would act as a key to the island. She hardly glanced at Mythril as she placed it on the arch and soon vanished.

He swiped through his scroll to STABLE, and tapped on Audreg, beneath her portrait the word DISMISS had replaced SUMMON. He tapped this.

Nothing happened.

Audreg scratched at the ground, pulled a bug out with her toes that she then leaned down to eat.

Knowing that he was sleepy, he tapped again on DISMISS, again nothing happened. He sighed, blowing air up from his lips and into his wavy blonde hair. “So, it’s going to be like that?” he asked. He looked at Audreg then back to his scroll.

INVENTORY open he summoned the same key he had used earlier that day.

“Come here then,” he said, pulling Audreg towards the arch by her reins. Mounting her, he began reaching down and around the arch in the same area Selrah did, until with a click that came much faster than before, although he was sure this was by chance and not memory, the portal opened and they were standing upon the island looking over the edge.

Audreg started walking forwards.

“No! Damnit, Audreg, are you trying to kill us?” Mythril said, pulling on her reins and earning himself a snap at his ear. “Fine, don’t answer that.”

He dismounted her and led her up past his house and into the town. Wanderers still walked the street although the merchant shops were closed, the lights inside now out and only their signs that were still without the wind to blow them, signalling what they were from a distance. Up close, Mythril could see through dim windows different items inside. They passed a tailor, and then turned up and round in the spiral that the path took them. Atop a small mound Mythril saw what he was looking for. A stable.

A human boy leaned against a wooden beam, he held a horseshoe in his hand but didn’t do much with it. From this, Mythril presumed that he must be an NPC.

“Hello,” he called once he had approached, hoping that the boy would respond.

“Hello,” the boy replied, looking up at Mythril and then to his ostrich. “You would like to stable your [Bird of Everpeace]?

Mythril looked at Audreg, and then aloud said, “Surely not?”

She hissed in his ear.

“Okay, yes, I would like to stable my [Bird of Everpeace],” he handed her reins to the stable boy who nodded his head. “Oh, wait, wait,” Mythril said, and pulling out his scroll tapped on the berries that the scarecrow had given him. “I’d also like you to train her with these.”

“Very well,” the boy said, much with the graces of every other bored teenager Mythril had ever met. “2 gold pieces, Wanderer.”

This stopped Mythril in his tracks, he had no idea how to pay a merchant. Until, a small brown slip appeared on his screen, and upon it were the words:

Pay stablehand Viktor Halfstep 2 gold pieces

ACCEPT DECLINE

He accepted and couldn’t help but think how alike self-checkouts this transaction had been. Before the stablehand could lead Audreg away, he patted her on the head. “You’ll be even stronger and faster soon,” he said proudly. She didn’t spit or hiss at him, so from this he believed he had pleased her.

Leaving the stable, feeling somewhat guilty, Mythril made his way back down the steps and towards their home. That morning, when walking down this same road, he had looked at each person that passed him in awe. Now, although that same intrigue still burned in his chest as an ember, a greater fire was in his heart. He walked to a home that was not his own, and wished that he could be where his fiancée was.