Joel was sitting down stairs in the meeting hall with Mal and the mighty Boris between them. The dog was relaxed, but they looked to be bickering over something. When Joel saw me, he stopped to offer a wolf whistle in my direction.

“Behave yourself,” I said, offering him a middle finger. “Nice threads though. Thanks for having these made for me.”

“Lierin, not me, mate. You already have so much else going for you, I felt better about myself to see you were running around like captain caveman.”

“Lierin made these?” I asked, surprised.

“Nah,” he laughed. “She can sew a bit, but Siga the Dokalfar tailor made those.”

I nodded appreciatively. “They fit perfectly. She did well to gauge my size.”

“Yep. She’s good. Fast too,” Joel replied as I thrust my hands into the pockets to check for void pocket capabilities. I didn’t mind, but Joel saw me checking and chuckled.

“Nah. No void pockets for you, Clive. No defense enchantments either. Too expensive power-wise to make at the minute with all of the power requirements the tailor already has. And let’s face it, you’ll ruin them within a day of leaving here.”

I nodded in agreement. “Absolutely. The clothes need the defense more than I do,” I replied as Boris came padding over. Despite my new appearance, he didn’t seem to mind, and sat next to me for a pet.

“That’s the same conclusion we came to, though there are plans in the future to make you something that won’t get instantly fucked every time you step out. Now come on, we could be prattling in the tavern about all of this shit,” Joel said. Then waved us to follow after him toward the exit.

“It was you prattling on, Joel,” Mal rightly pointed out.

Joel pretended not to hear as we hit the cobbled street out front. The late sun casting an amber glow over our beautiful town. As people waved and wished me well, I realized how much this place felt more like my home than anywhere else ever had. It was home on a none deep level where I felt both relaxed and viciously protective over the place.

“That one,” Joel said, interrupting my reverie, pointing to a building. “Is your restaurant,” Clive.

I looked at the building directly across the road from the castle. A two-story stone-built building with what looked like the beginning of a tower being built. It was one of the buildings that formed a square out front of the castle, and set forward from the other buildings in a position of prominence.

I looked at it in wide-eyed wonder, like a kid in a kind candy shop. “That's awesome Joel. Thank you so much, man.”

“It shouldn't be closer to the castle and the center than the temple is,” Mal said without any Inflection.

“Don't be fucking stupid, Mal,” Joel replied. “Nobody gives a shit about the temple of Devotion here. These are Clive’s people, this is Clive’s town, and that restaurant is Clive’s temple, and it will always be the center of the town along with the Castle.”

“Not you as well. He’s not a bloody god Joel,” Mal snapped. “And in any case, I thought you built this town together? You got town founder above your head as well.”

“Maybe we did, but this is Wultr Land. Land that Clive has fought for and won. He killed the leader of Sania's pack. Twice. He beat Grigor, he defended it against Destruction aaaand Malatia in case you forgot. He also rescued pretty much everyone here at some point. All those people didn’t become followers for no reason you pillock. Now sort yourself out and be nice for tonight, at least. You can go back to being a miserable twit tomorrow.”

Mal didn’t reply, but the sour look didn’t leave his face. Joel looked away and turned back to me with a big smile. “Anyway, there’s nothing to look at right now as it’s still being built, but I’ll wait for the interior design until you’re back. I’m sure you know how you’ll want the place and that’s part of the fun, ain’t it. Let’s face it, you’ve had little enough of that lately judging by the state you keep appearing in.

“You don’t know the half of it,” I said, absently recalling my meeting with Keira as we continued down the road.

“Here we are, Mal said gesturing to a building on our left.

“Quiet isn’t it?” Mal noted.

“Not open yet. Doesn’t officially open for a couple more days but, well, special privileges for us you know.”

“We entered through the wooden door. I was glad to see it was a respectable size for gentlemen of a more robust nature. I barely had to duck and swerve at all to enter.

Inside, my eyes widened in utter shock and a smile sprung up on my face. I wasn’t alone as Remus, George, and Tracy all turned to look at us.

Tracy was behind the bar and slammed her meaty hands down in something approaching joy as she saw us. George, who was putting chairs out, threw them to one side to clap his hands and make his way over shouting incoherent but happy babble.

Remus was working on a planter full of flowers and foliage.

“Guys! You’re all here!” I shouted

“Sure are,” Remus said, reaching me a moment after George. “Long-time no see, Clive. Joel told me you’d gotten bigger, but this is just weird!”

“Bigger than George now,” George said who was barely eight foot. I noticed they’d barely increased in level in the time we’d been apart. With them all being on level 20 now.

“So what’s been happening? What’ve you all been up to?”

“Just hanging around Laurel really,” Remus said. “It was nice to see Dug, but we shoulda come with you and Joel.”

“Soon as we heard you had little town up here, we come straight away,” Tracey said.

“How did you hear?” I asked curiously.

“Joel sent a message to Dug asking after us and asking where to buy beer for the tavern. Dug sorted out a delivery and we brought it up.”

“Awesome. So you’re staying here?”

“We are. This is where the excitement is. Wherever you guys are. Though we're done with our adventuring days. We run the tavern now.”

“Fair enough. I half wish I was done and running my restaurant now. Still, one day, hopefully.

“The competition, hey,” Remus said slyly.

“HA, I suppose so, though I’m sure we’ll be able to strike up a good partnership.”

“Me too,” Tracy said. “Now Drink! You been here too long without beer. Not good hosts,” she said, pulling a yard glass from behind the bar.

“Careful with this,” she said, filling it with dark amber liquid. I took it far more gratefully than I would have thought possible. The damn thing looked small in my hands, but I raised it to my nose with relish and took in the malty aromas. Then upended it. I saw them all watching, waiting, grinning. I pretended I wasn’t going to turn it and take a beer facial douche, but I flicked it around at the last moment finishing the full draught in around thirty seconds. Pulling the glass away an almighty belch erupted that felt like it came from my toes. “Wonderful. Now one each for my friends,” I said with a grin and handing the glass back to Tracy.

“I’m not doing it.” Mal said in a tone that brooked no argument.

Boris chose that moment to bark.

“I think he’s calling you a pussy, mate,” I said nudging Mal with my elbow.

He staggered to one side, his face suddenly the essence of indignation. “Bloody hell Clive, watch it, man! Damn, nearly knocked me over.”

“What’s happened to you?” I chuckled, as Tracy pulled another yard and handed it over to a still scowling Mal.

“To his credit he set off drinking it. Turning the glass as he went so as not to end up covered. He handed the empty glass back to Tracy and thanked her.

While Tracy filled the glass for Joel, I came to the assumption that the Far Reach Tavern only had one yard glass, which I supposed was understandable.

Once Joel had drained his, we all took a seat at the bar. “I think we’ll take just tankards now Tracy,” Joel said fighting a belch until he’d finished talking, then let it rip.

We finally settled in a slightly awkward silence with our drinks. I looked at my two friends, Mal in particular, and smiled. “Right guys, let’s get this shit put to bed shall we? Whatever’s happened is in the past now. Mistakes have been made, people have been arseholes, but we're friends and that friendship means a lot to me. We’re basically each other’s only links to where we’ve come from. Your worshiping Devotion makes no difference to that unless you want it too, Mal.”

He listened silently, though his expression implied he was angry at my words. I suspected I knew why. “And…” I continued, “I hope you have a long and happy relationship with Elsbeth. I wish you both nothing but the best and I’m absolutely made up that you’re here now.”

“You’re okay with me and Elsbeth? And Devotion?” he asked, cocking his head to one side and looking perplexed.

“Sure. I’ve spent a lot of time mulling everything over, and I spent a lot of fucking points on Intelligence as well. We three are not the only ones who’ve made mistakes since our arrival, but let’s just say I see things very differently these days.”

“Are you trying to say Devotion made mistakes?” Mal said defensively. “You realize she’s god. My god at that.”

“Yeah, and gods make mistakes, trust me on that,” Mal.

“Why? Because you think you are one?” he spat.

I shook my head sadly and took a long draught of my beer while he glared daggers at me. “I’m not a god Mal, not yet at least, but whether you like it or not, I’m heading in that direction. It would be easier if you could accept that and get over it, so we can get on with what lies ahead of us.”

“I don't understand what's going on,” he said tiredly. “We’re here because of you, but no one’s really explained why. In Laurel we were just trying to help your arm, rushed to Knuntang, losing Daz, then getting split up at Natom’s place. Then he chopped your bloody arms off! Then you go and change into a full-on demon. I felt awful for leaving you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I get you, man. Tough times,” I said with a pained smile. It was strange hearing how out of the loop he’d felt.

“The only reason I went to learn from Devotion was because I wanted to save you,” he protested against an imaginary accusation. “When I left, I was genuinely hoping to find help for you. When we came back into the mountains I was excited to see you both again and maybe do something to help you, but when we found you again, you’re walking around here like you own the damn place and telling us all to fuck off.”

“Well, you did come with a bloody army,” Joel snapped. “And you might have wanted to help Clive, but you also wanted to be a damn super hero.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Mal protested, but I could tell even to his ears it was a weak defense.

He moved on as if Joel hadn’t spoken. “You’re Clive. I’ve known you since we were four years old. If you were a fucking god, I think I would have noticed earlier. I don’t know why the hell you’re leveling up so fast and why have you got all that shit around your name now. Protector of the North? None of it makes any sense but... You’re not better than us,” he finished gesturing at himself and Joel. “You’re not.”

“Is that what this angers about?” I asked surprised at where his rant had taken him. “I don’t think I’m better than anyone you prick. And I didn’t ask for any of this. But it’s happening, nonetheless. I’m getting all these levels because ridiculously powerful arseholes keep trying to kill me. You're looking through what’s happened to me with rose-tinted glasses Mal. You seriously wouldn’t want any part of my life. You know, a few days ago I was dragged through a portal into Delosha, blocked from my powers, had my hand cut off. Strung upside down in a dungeon cell and tortured by his pshyco. After I managed to escape, I was hunted continuously for hours on end by Paladins and Justiciars all above or around level 100. Oh, and I had my fucking legs chopped off. Again!” I shouted. I noticed everyone was staring at me in something approaching horror. I took a deep breath and calmed. “Just to put my life into perspective. You’ve got no idea of the shit that I'm going through, Mal. I’ve got loved ones in a sieged fort miles to the north on a knife's edge of life and death. So when I’m here trying to make peace with you and you're giving me this shit as you sit safe and sound, it kind of gets under my skin. You need to accept what I am now just as I’m accepting what you are. I didn’t make this chasm between us alone, and I can’t close it alone. You decide what you want to do, and I’ll accept it.”

The tension in the bar was palpable. I drained a full tankard while I awaited his response.

“Do you actually believe that you're becoming a God?” he finally asked.

“I know I'm becoming a God, Mal. Whether I make it to godhood is a different question.”

“And you don’t see how delusional that is?”

“You don’t see how delusional it is for you to have so little understanding or information about what’s happened to me, by your own admission. Yet still insist, that it’s not possible?”

“Maybe,” he sighed and took a long drink.

“I have a God arm already,” I said with a wide grin.

“Do you?” Joel asked incredulously.

“Damn right I do,” I said holding my human looking arm out.

“Doesn't look like a God arm to me,” Mal groused, grabbing hold of my wrist. “Doesn't feel like one either.”

“Yet, it is one. This arm can’t be damaged by any conventional means. The rest of me can still die, kinda. But this arm is completely indestructible.”

“Fuck off,” Mal said. “You're just taking the piss now.”

I quickly rolled my sleeve up. “Ready?” I asked, but didn’t wait for a response as I activated its true appearance. As it turned into the crystalline structure, flickering in a multicolored shimmer, the gasps from those around me were unanimous.

“Indestructible,” I said slowly giving him a crystalline thumbs up. “The blasts I can produce from this beauty are insane. Just this morning, I killed a level 122 Paladin. Two shots.”

“You killed someone this morning?” Mal asked horrified.

“I killed four people. How do you think I'm getting all these levels? Picking fucking flowers? I replied, more than a little irritated by his response.

“Ah man that’s dark,” he replied. “You don’t even seem affected and that’s not you.”

“We found a village of Trullan up north. You know, like Dug. They were really kind and fed and watered all of the people up there with me. It was a pretty nice little village, with little farms, children running around, grandparents watching them as those who could, worked. I returned to take them with me three days later. To bring them here where they could live in relative safety. Instead, I found the forces of Justice. They’d killed every last one of them, children and all. Then burned the village down to the ground to make sure. They’re doing that across the north, Ma, and so are Destruction’s forces. Not just playing tiddlywinks. So yeah, I’m killing them. And I’m going to keep killing them.”

“Fuck man. I don’t know what to say,” Joel said. “I knew it was bad, but it sounds like you're seeing some real horrible things.”

Mal shook his head. “So if things are that desperate why are you here drinking and laughing with us instead of being with your people, rescuing everyone?

“You’re a real fucking wanker, Mal. Do you know that?” I replied Despondently.

“He’s waiting for his transportation spell to reset,” Joel answered. “So he can carry all those starving people food, you idiot.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Mal protested. “You don’t tell me anything!” He said snapping at Joel more than me.

“You don’t ask!” Joel replied. “You’ve got more important stuff to worry about than what goes on with Clive or Far Reach, haven’t you.”

Mal flustered for a moment, before seeming to deflate.

“So,” I said with a smile for them both. Shall we take it back to the beginning of the conversation. We’ve all made mistakes, but I think our friendship is more important. What do you say, Mal? You coming back in, or is this how it has to be.”

He shrugged. “Are you going to stop trying to kick devotion out of here every five minutes?”

“I think that's more to do with the delusions of grandeur that some of Devotion’s people have. And that's mainly you and the Guards you work with,” Joel replied, raising the tension again.

“Well, you stop treating us like we’re second-class citizens!” Mal snapped back.

“You are second-class citizens,” Joel shouted, face growing red.

“Come on guys. Let's not do this all over again. There may be a few niggles to sort out, but for the rest of the night can we push it away and go back to just being friends? “I said, putting my hand out to shake.

Mal looked at it dubiously until Boris barked at him. “Damn, Boris. Whose dog are you?” he said with a slight smile before shaking the offered hand.

Boris lay back down satisfied, as Joel and Mal grudgingly shook hands.

“Good. I’m glad that’s settled,” I said shifting on my straining stool. “So, what are your plans Mal. We've not actually spoken properly for a while, and I’m interested.”

With a hefty gulp at his drink, he wiped his mouth and seemed to relax. “Work within the Church of Devotion. Get as strong as I can. War is coming to Malatia one way or the other and when that comes, I need to be ready for it.”

“So there are some similarities with our aims then,” I laughed. “Well done on becoming a paladin, too. Boris is creeping in levels as well. It’s good to see.”

The level 21 black Labrador raised his head from his paws to look up at me and acknowledge my words.

“Not enough, though. Both of us are falling behind you and Joel,” Mal said bitterly.

“Never took you for a complainer, mate. And you remember what I went through for those levels, right?” I laughed, though I didn’t feel like it.

“I suppose so. Perhaps I need to lead the men I command out into Kalabri and do some more fighting against Destruction.

“If your aim in life is to get stronger, fighting, then yeah, might be a good idea,” I agreed. “Do they not have any special forces in Malatia you could train with?”

“They do, but I'd have to go to the capital for that. And of course they’d have to accept me. The minimum level is forty, so I’m still a long way from that.”

“Well, maybe you just need to make your own special forces here. Make the Far Reach Malatian soldiers the toughest in the land.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle at the thought of it. “Damnit Clive, you’re right. That's a brilliant idea. I need to unify those here. It's not like we haven't got plenty of target practice a little further north.”

“Well, there you go then. You’ll probably endear yourself a lot more to the people here as well. Though try and stay safe.”

Mal nodded deep in thought. I could almost see the scenarios dancing over his eyes. Joel snorted. “I think I'll just keep building Far Reach if you don't mind.”

“I would too if I could,” I laughed along with him. “But you’re definitely the man for the job.”

We sat and chatted well into the night. Remus George and Tracy sat with us for most of it and by the end, Joel and Mal were well tanked up, laughing and slurring like the good old times. I, however, was completely unaffected by the 15 pints and yard of ale I’d drank. If anything, I was annoyed to have drank so much when supplies were so limited. Someone else could have benefited from those drinks far more. It appeared my drinking days were behind me. Unless we got a distillery going. I wondered idly how many pints of vodka I would have to drink to get a buzz, or if I ever could again. It was a sobering thought.