I attempted to sell what I knew of sector 12,560 and of the Awakened Dead’s machinations in the wolves’ valley to Arden. However, because of the age of the information and the fact I had no evidence, the gnome refused the transaction. It seemed that despite their disclaimer on the sign outside, the brokers would not purchase unverified information.

Still, I left the office happy with the outcome of my dealings. Exiting the building, I broke away from the crowds and, finding a quiet spot in the street, considered my next move.

It was time to head deeper into the quarter. But where exactly?

I need to gain more levels—and fast. I also needed money almost as badly. Dungeons would do for the one, and bounties for the other. But both would require me to spend significant time in the quarter. Best to heed Arden’s advice then and purchase some cure disease potions.

Orienting myself with the map, I strode southeast, in the direction of the Triumvirate citadel.

~~~

As I moved deeper into the quarter, the streets became quieter. Fewer players were about, and those that were, moved in groups.

My lone form attracted more than one curious glance, but I paid them no heed. I had no option but to travel alone, having as much to fear from other players as I did whatever horrors the quarter might hold.

One particular street, though, was busier than the others.

It ran directly north to south, and multiple Triumvirate knights traveled along its length. The road was wide, and its cobblestones were clean and less pockmarked than other streets. Considering its placement, I suspected it was the main artery between the south gate and the citadel.

Given what Arden had told me, I suspected the knights’ outpost in the quarter would serve well as my base of operations. It was centrally positioned and, if the broker was to be believed, offered safe lodgings and merchants to trade with.

Halfway to my destination, I stopped short.

A tortured howl cut through the air.

My head whipped around. The cry had come from the right. The sound was full of pain and anguish and was one I recognized intimately.

Someone was dying.

My eyes roved the street. No one else nearby had reacted, though. The scream had come from too far off for most to hear. A moment later, a second howl split the air. This one was closer. It was followed by footsteps. Lots of footsteps.

A crowd was fleeing my way.

I debated my options. The smarter choice would be to hurry on and ignore the fleeing people, but that did not sit well with me. I wanted—no, needed—to know what was going on, especially if the plague quarter was going to be my home for the near future.

I surveyed the area and spotted an alley on the opposite side of the street. It offered both shadowed refuge and a safe observation point. Crossing the road, I slipped into its darkness, then turned about and fixed my gaze on where the crowd would emerge from.

The seconds ticked by, and eventually, the other travelers on the road sensed the onrushing disturbance. Heads turned. Whispers followed. And many, wisely, hurried away.

The crowd’s forerunner—a human player—emerged from the side street, the whites of his eyes showing. Dropping hands to his knees, he gulped in deep breaths.

A knight hurried towards him. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

The exhausted human took a moment to answer. Straightening, he gasped, “Stygians! A rift has opened!”

The knight’s hand tightened around his blade. “How many?”

“I don’t know—an entire army! The city’s been invaded!”

The knight’s brows drew in confusion. “Where? What levels?” he barked.

The player did not hang around to answer, though. Taking off running again, heading north for the safety of the safe zone.

“Come back here!” the knight roared.

The frightened man kept running. The knight swung back to face the side street. More people were emerging, and the Triumvirate fired off another volley of questions.

None stopped to enlighten him.

Throwing up his hands, the knight hurried back to his companions. After a short conversation, the entire group hurried south and back to the citadel. To get reinforcements, I presumed.

The streets had become disturbingly empty. But I stayed where I was, curiosity growing. Finally, I was about to come face to face with the stygian menace that plagued the quarter.

The trickle of fleeing people became a flood, a sea of incoherence—howling and babbling men, women, and children. Disturbingly there were nearly as many players as there were non-players. What could terrorize so many so?

I could do nothing for any of them, though. Panic had dug its claws deep into them, and it would be a while before any was fit to talk.

Cloaking myself in darkness, I lowered my hands to hover near my sheathed blades. Flee or fight, I would do as the circumstances demanded.

Just as quickly, the flood abated, and the wave of noise receded. In the nearly pin-drop silence, I waited alone and ready. The seconds ticked by. A minute passed. Then another.

And yet no horde of stygian beasts arrived.

Perplexed, I uncoiled. False alarm? I wondered.

Has to be.

My gaze swung up and down the road. It was starkly empty in both directions. Word had spread, and others were wisely keeping away.

I hesitated, then crossed the street and entered the side street the crowds had come from.

Let’s see what all the fuss was about.

~~~

Hugging the sides of a tall building, I crept further down the road, retracing the path of the fleeing crowd. My senses were extended, and I was alert for danger. But it was a good few minutes before I heard anything that warranted concern.

From up ahead, around the corner, and out of sight, I heard the faint rasp of a blade. It was followed by clipped orders and the sizzle of something...

A spell hitting its target?

Whatever the furor was all about, it was just a few streets ahead. But it certainly did not sound like an invasion. The ground did not shake, the building did not tremble, and a horde of stygian beasts most emphatically did not appear. The fleeing human had exaggerated, I thought, or so it seemed.

Still, caution was necessary.

Glancing upwards, I scanned the nearby structures. They were all multi-storied buildings. Better to approach from up high.

Equipping my cats’ claws, I slunk to the side of the building I had marked as an easy climb and began swiftly scaling its heights.

Less than a minute later, I was atop the building’s tiled roof. Through my mindsight, I could sense the minds huddling inside. The building’s interior was occupied, as were many of the nearby structures. But the residents that had chosen to remain, cowering behind their locked doors, appeared exclusively non-players, and I would get no help from them.

I slipped lightly across the roof and, reaching its edge, threw myself across the stretch of open-air to the next building. The distance was too large to ford in a single leap, but with one-step, I managed the feat easily enough.

I rolled to a stop on the next building, then, with nimble steps, crossed its length and hopped over the next street and onto the adjacent building. After another series of jumps, I reached the source of the noise. Stretched out flat, I pulled myself forward with my elbows and peered over the roof’s edge.

A battle was in progress below.

And much to my surprise, the fleeing player had been somewhat correct in his report. Three-quarters of the combatants below me were stygian creatures. They were far from a horde, though.

Taking a quick tally, I estimated they were seventeen slithering stygians—serpents by the look of them—and one larger six-headed horror—a hydra.

Facing off against the nether creatures were four players, three of whom I recognized. It was the same trio I’d used as decoys to escape Wengulax. Accompanying them was a centaur covered from hooved feet to shoulders in armor formed of overlapping plates.

A small pile of corpses, some people, but the majority dead stygian beasts, littered the streets. The four seemed to have killed a fair number of the ‘invaders’ already.

I ran my gaze over a few of the combats, analyzing them in turn.

The target is Barac, a level 160 centaur crusader.

The target is a level 110 stygian serpent.

The target is a level 180 stygian hydra.

The four players had drawn up against the side of the building on the opposite side of the street, and the serpents had formed a half-circle around them.

Despite the numbers arrayed against them, the party seemed to be holding its own. Barac swung the heavy two-handed axe in his hand with wild abandon, keeping the snakes at bay, while from within his shadow, the duelist, Jasiah, nipped at the creatures with his slim blade. The archer, Simone, and the mage, Moonshadow, threw spells and arrows to protect the party’s flanks.

An experienced party, I thought, watching them fight. Though as well as the party seemed to be doing, I thought matters would change quickly once the hydra reached them. And from the glances the four kept shooting the approaching monster, they seemed to know it too.

From the neck down, the hydra was built like any other creature, if only one more immense than most, outmatching even the centaur in height. Its six heads, snapping jaws, and snaking necks made it truly monstrous. What it lacked in speed, it made up in might. The beast was thirty yards away from the party, but every moment, it crept closer.

I have to help them.

Given the hydra’s lack of speed, the party had some time before they were overwhelmed, but that they would, seemed assured. Although the group were strangers to me, three of them had aided me against the mantis—unwittingly or not—and I owed them.

How do I help, though?

I studied the ground. The four were too far away from me to use shadow blink. Besides, I was not sure another blade—especially from an under-leveled player—would make much difference. Somehow, I needed to change the complexion of the fight.

Most of my tricks were not suitable for group combat. If I smoked the area, I would only blind the players. Nor would summoning a stygian beast help in this instance. Charm should work, but I suspected it would take multiple attempts—and time the party didn’t have—to bespell one of the serpents.

There was only one other thing I could think to attempt.

My gaze flickered to the opposite building, measuring its height. It could work. The street the battle raged in was wider than the others I’d crossed so far, and fording the distance would not be easy though.

Still, it was worth a try.

Decided, I rose to my feet and backed away a few yards. Then I hurled myself forward, accelerating to full speed by the time I reached the edge of the roof.

Springing off my right leg, I leaped through empty air, legs windmilling. When I passed the top of my arc, I cast one step and flung myself forward again, hands outstretched. My reaching fingers curled around the edge of the opposite rooftop.

I’d made it.

Pulling myself up, I looked back down. Neither the players nor their foes had noticed me yet. Removing the coiled rope from my backpack, I tied it around the nearby chimney and, standing at the roof’s edge, let its length unravel to the ground.

The rope end smacked the archer on the cheek, attracting her attention. Breaking off from her attacks, the half-elf’s gaze whipped upwards.

I smiled and, cupping my hands around my mouth, shouted, “Get up here!”

Simone did not reply. Bending her head back down, she whispered something to the elven mage. Moonshadow glanced upwards and, after a curt reply to his companion, began climbing up.

Good, I thought. I’d almost feared the party would refuse my aid. However, my actions had only increased their danger in the short term. Until the mage reached the rooftop, the remaining three would have a much harder time holding off the stygian creatures.

I turned my attention back to the fight. Seeming to realize they needed to buy their companions time to reposition, the centaur and the duelist intensified their attacks.

Forgoing defense, they laid in two the serpents with abandon, causing the creatures to hiss and recoil in pain. The pair’s blades fared better than my own had in my one encounter with the stygian beast, which meant they had to be enchanted to inflict magical damage.

Let’s see if I can help them even the odds.

Drawing on my psi, I targeted the nearest serpent and cast simple charm. Strands of my will reached into the creature’s mind but were adamantly rebuffed.

You have failed to charm a level 101 stygian servant.

I grimaced at the failure but didn’t give up. Drawing on my psi again, I sent more strands searching outwards. This time, I'll—

Your spellcasting has been interrupted!

You have been teleported. Simone has swapped positions with you.

What the—!

For a moment, I stood frozen in disbelief before understanding dawned. My gaze flew upwards to meet the self-satisfied smirk of the half-elf. She spared a moment to wave cheerfully at me before returning her attention to the serpent and taking aim with a bow.

God dammit, I cursed. That bloody ungrateful—

I broke off as the irony of the situation hit. Simone had only done to me what I had done to her with Wengulax. Turnabout is fair play, and besides—

“Stop standing there and gaping like a fool!” Barac roared. “Draw your blade and join the bloody battle!”

My gaze flickered to the centaur. He was right. The party’s two ranged combatants were now safely atop the roof, where they could rain down their projectiles to devastating effect.

It was time I did my part.

Stepping forward, I shadow blinked into battle.