After failing to convince us to stay and giving us the bad news about Dez and Angus' probable escape from Higo, Lady Anne has several people drop off two medium-sized crates, about three feet cubed, before leaving her alone with us. When we access them, the crates bring up a menu with all of the loot from both fights and an insane amount of space leftover. Each crate is essentially a shipping container, 8x8x40feet. The shock and amazement is obvious on my face and Victoria explains that Lady Anne, who showed herself to be an amazing combatant, was first an accomplished Dimensional Mage.

"Yes, well," Lady Anne says, "Father and Mother are nothing without their sarcastic wit. When I told them I dreamed of wide open spaces, they packed me off to the Wizard's University in Coronus to learn Spatial Magic."

"And that's where we met you," Victoria says, playfully punching Lady Anne in the shoulder. "Turns out her proper accent is no indication of a stick in the ass."

"I was drinking with sailors and pirates long before you and her Majesty decided to associate yourselves with me, dearie," she says with a smirk, returning her punch and Conner's Thunderstruck. "Go on now, before I change my mind and have you all detained here for all eternity."

From a pouch on her hip, she withdraws a hand-sized toy pirate ship with a single mast and sail. She chants a few words in a language I didn't understand and it grows to the size of a car with enough room inside for two. Floating several inches above the ground, she jumps in and grabs the helm. The comically small ship bobs in the air under her weight.

"Vicky, would you mind if I have a little chat with Ardacen?" Her tone is pleasent, but it's obvious she's not giving us much of a choice.

Kona, Serenity, and Rachel unanimously and spontaneously start the first unofficial Lady Anne Higo fan club, going so far as jumping up and down and squeeling. Serenity is the most composed of the three, but Rachel is practically hyperventilating. Vic and Dawn nod me over to her and usher the girls back into the vardo before they hurt themselves. Boulder and Gorm bring in the crates.

Finally alone, Lady Anne brushes something off her shoulder, "Have you used it on her yet?" I scrunch up my face, confused by her implications, so she elaborates, "Analyze. I know you're capable. Have you used it on her? Or me? Or Queen Herexa? I know you've had the chance to."

I shake my head, unsure of what to say or where this conversation is going. She cocks an eyebrow at me and I can feel a hundred eyes invading all of my personnal spaces, mental and physical. The virtual hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and I get the feeling that I just got myself Analyzed. A screen appears before Lady Anne, confirming my suspicions.

"See? Just like that. Give it a try." I'm hesitant, but I follow her request. "Hm. That's odd. Seems like you can get a bit more information than you should, but nothing too deep. Can you see my race or sub-race?"

I nod, reluctant to continue, but I do, "Are you all related?"

She shakes her head, "In a way, maybe. Our bloodline is somewhat watered down by now, but it is something. I did a bit of study on it while in the University."

"Does it have something to do with her grandmother?" I ask, trying to remember the details of her story, instead, the recent glowing event takes its place.

"When a Race gets diluted enough to become a Sub-Race, only certain aspects are inherited. Ours in particular had many Feats, but not all of them get picked up. Hell, I'd be suprised if she had any." She readjusts her uniform and unties her hair, shaking her wavy red locks loose and free.

I peak at the vardo over my shoulder to see if anyone was looking for me yet, "What do I do with this information? Will Vic talk to me about it?"

"That is why we are now, she knows just about as much as you did an hour ago. Now, keep doing whatever it is you lot are doing. She's happy. A different kind of happy than I'm used to seeing on her. Seems like getting kicked out of her home did her a world of good." She reaches into her pouch again, tossing me a small, palm sized copper badge. "Next time you're in town, make sure you show that to the guards and come straight to my home. I won't have one of my dearest friends and her companions parking in some stable."

I put the badge away, looking up at her as she prepares to leave, "Why didn't you take her in when she was kicked out in the first place?" The words taste bitter in my mouth and I realize that I shouldn't have asked.

Lady Anne stares off into the distance, her grip on the wheel tightens, "Politics, dear boy, is a foe that is more dangerous than any Lich Tyrant or Elder Dragon." Her eyes glint with sharp, steel memories, veins throbbing on her hands. "It almost always attacks you indirectly to defeat you, a tactic it is very, very good at. Its teeth are always bared, be it as a false smile or as a threat, you never know until it is too late."

She looks down at me, her demeanor flipping back to her stoic and relaxed self, "Keep her out of trouble, you hear me? And if you have any more questions, at least you now know what to look up." And just like that, she sails off. With enough on my plate already, I mentally add it to the middle of my priority list closer to the bottom, though, not the exact center.

One of the projects that was completed during the Vanishing was a special set-up that created a sort of convertable shelter where the luggage space is. It was made of Violetta Lumber and reinforced with iron sheets dyed black to match the vardo. All in all, it actually increased the HP of the vardo by 300 and the Armor by 12. The Violetta Lumber also imparted a special 5% resistance to all elements. I'm told that Elsbeth did most of the work, trying to teach others the Carpenter Class since she's the only Carpenter since Ramona died. I wonder if there's any way I can show our appreciation for her.

In the little cabin, Conner sits on a bench while holding a small pillow with Sonny on it, who is just about the size of a baseball. I post up next to Richter when he gives the command for the mechanical horses to go. After making it past the gates I try to split my attention between my senses and talking to Sonny, but I fail to do either very well. Instead, Conner passes me the pillow and we switch places.

[I think I have been quite patient since you dropped the news about my mother. Shall we continue? Y/N?]

"Yes. Sorry, Sonny," I say, shifting around uncomfortably, "I didn't mean to cliff hang you like that." I go on to explain to her in as much detail as I can remember about my dream meeting with Dimitria and Sonny's current predicament.

[That still doesn't explain why I can't remember anything before waking up in the dungeon.]

"I didn't think it would, but it gives us a better understanding of where you came from and I thought that it would maybe shed some light on how to help you."

[Well, Energy Points are essentailly converted Mana Points. So I think if we can find a way for me to regenerate MP the way other living creatures do it might help.]

I get a funny idea and hold her over the side in the palm of my hand. Conner begins to protest, but stops when he watches me pull a blue bottle out of my bracelet. I shower her with the Mana Potion, "Anything?" Aside from dripping with the liquid, I can't tell any discernable difference.

[I'm sorry, Ardy. Maybe if my core was porous? Otherwise, none of the liquid is being absorbed.]

"Hm. Mika might punch me in the face for wasting one of her potions like that." My statement chains another idea and I ask Conner to bring Sonny back inside to speak with Mika. "She might be able to come up with something when neither Serenity nor Kona could."

"I'm suprised, sir," Conner says, gingerly holding Sonny and the pillow, "Kona's nose is always buried in that giant book of hers."

"What book?" I ask before he could leap off.

"Grimoire of the Stars. I believe it's a Pact Book for a Warlock. I've seen a Pact Book once before in the circus," he responds before disappearing over the side and into the vardo. I climb back next to Richter, pulling the lever to fold in the cabin.

"That is so cool," I say, a little too impressed with the addition. Richter laughs and I shrug my shoulders, "What can I say? I'm a man who enjoys his novelties." I have to turn around and face forward to resist the urge to open and close the cabin several more times.

With Dawn's permission, we took the road to the Sun Seeker Cave, as I've come to call it, to collect as many Gorshix Loot Sacks as Richter and I could gather with a couple rucksacks while the rest of our main squad watches over the vardo. Richter couldn't go in the water himself since it constantly drains HP and he can't breathe underwater like me. So, he looks after each bag as I fill them to capacity. Even then, there are still hundreds of Loot Sacks on the floor waiting to be plucked.

The Lotus itself had only grown one more bloom, which I took. It suprised me since my first visit hadn't been that long ago, but on the way back Richter and his Gatherer Class explains that it has something to do with how I had left it with two flowers instead of one.

Several miles north and many negligible encounters toward our next stop later, I activate my Zoom II to catch a better look at a red dot in the distance. The red dot turns into several as a veritable swarm of Stalkers stampedes down the road. "Oh shit," I grumble and Richter asks me what it is. "Oh shit!" My expression and tone changes to a more positive and suprised one when I notice the lead Stalker.

[Discovered: Variant Stalker

[Capture or Dispatch for bonus Reward]

While the pack of Plains Stalkers behind the leader is the same mellow kind of yellow, the Variant is the same subtle shimmer of rainbow colors as the wolf that gave me that strange Feat so long ago. I'm eager to kill it, but I search the long list of items I've come across that could possibly subjugate the beast. I try to shake a hint out of Richter, "I need to capture a Variant!"

"Wha-wha-wha-what the hell are you…" He pulls the vardo over after noticing the horde's dust cloud. I brush the Whisper Ear Cuff and relay the situation to the others.

Kona, who was asked to stay inside during our drive through the plains, responds first, "We don't have anything to capture Variants, but we would have if we knew you had faced one before!" Kona and Dawn burst out of one of the doors riding on the broom, a winged Rachel follows close behind. Elsbeth and Victoria flip over the luggage rack and El pulls the lever half way. The walls of the cabin come up, but the roof doesn't.

I gasp, "El, you are a genius." She gives me a wink and a smirk before loosing several arrows at the stampede. We follow the arrows with our eyes and comprehension of the scope of the horde dawns on us.

Hundreds. Hundreds of Stalkers thundering in a wedge formation. Hundreds of gnashing, slashing, carving, starving creatures ready to swarm our position and maroon us on an island of death.

I'm trembling. I flex me claws in the hopes of chasing the tremors away. I look over at the others and see them shaking as well. Everyone's knuckles are white from how tight they're gripping their weapons. They're teeth are just as white, only visible because of how wide their grins are. Just like me, they're all so eager to start. We're all just horses behind the gate, waiting for the signal to start.

After a long, hearty laugh, Dawn calls out, "Top four gets a Knight Chest!" A Minor Quest is shared, but I ignore for now. She drops from the broom, hurling her Thunderstruck over and over, counting out each kill with a manic joy in her voice.

We all leap from our perch, Richter and Elsbeth firing enchanted arrows ahead of us. Not to be outdone, Victoria throws spears from her storage ring in rapid succession while Arcane Bolts fly from my hands. A number 2 appears at the bottom left of my vision and I can guess it has something to do with the Quest. I crash into a group of them that are trying to protect the Variant and my own hoarse laughter suprises me. As if I am the villian in this moment I shout how futile their efforts are to keep my prey from me.

I activate Trinity Stream and the effects are nothing short of catastrophic for them. My numbers spin out of control as I obliterate everything in the Spell's path. There are countless notifications obscuring my vision since I forgot to turn them off, but a quick mental flick of the switch and nothing but devestation lay before my eyes.

My Spell carved out a path of loot sacks and a hollowed out space where Stalkers once stood, the Variant narrowly dodging my attack. As impressive as that is, more Stalkers fill in the gap with unnerving speed and ease. Creatures fighting on pure instinct. No battle plan. No ulterior motive. No need for retreat. The surge of battle sweeps through all of us and we are taken out with the tide.

MP drained. SP tapped. The Variant long dead. We are all still fighting. My virtual muscles ache from the endless battle. We've discovered that after a certain point, prolonged regular attacks drain HP if there's no SP as if the strain of combat itself is slowly killing us. Objectively it is an interesting and almost true to life aspect long term fighting, but in game and in the moment it is worrisome.

At some point Mika, the militia, and even some of the citizens join us to protect the vardo from getting overrun. They give us a much needed respite, though we're still very anxious watching the amateur citizens fight off the Stalkers. Given the small mental break we notice that they're not all Plains Stalkers, there's a generous mix of several different species bent on killing us.

Collecting herself, Dawn orders Kona to fly ahead if she can and see if the horde is as endless as it seems. She takes off on her broom, blasting triplets of Arcane Bolts as she passes over head and adding to her count. From our position beside the vardo, Dawn activates Sanctuary and she and I cast our healing Spells on those in need. That's when it becomes clear to me that everyone is equipped with Mermadin armor, shields, and spears. Words flow into Dawn's ear and she lets out a triumphant, primal scream.

"The storm is almost over! Fall into a defensive circle around the vardo. I don't want to see a single scratch on it!" She reactivates Sanctuary and I follow her back into the sea of scythes.

All kinds of bolts and arrows randomly appear in the Stalkers around me and I help finish them off. I have enough MP to cast Trinity Stream twice, Victoria and Dawn both call out "Cheater," as I rack up crazy numbers. Even Kona and Serenity take advantage of their AoE Spells to pull ahead in our numbers game. Granted, everyone has a kind of "Sweep Ability" but the amount of hostiles we Spellslingers can target at once puts us at a major advantage in horde type situtations.

Six hundred fifty two, Stalkers Levels 9 - 11 slain between just the seven us. We don't know exactly how many the others killed, but we could guess the number to be at least half as many according to the slower speed of which we observed them killing by. Almost three hours of continuous combat.

To put it into perspective, a world class title boxing match lasts a little over an hour. There are twelve, three minute rounds with one minute breaks in between. Those fighters train for months, probably even years to condition their bodies to handle that amount of physical exertion. In our form of combat there is also the threat of personal death and the death of those around you adding mental weight to the strain.

The citizens, who are not trained in dealing with this level of stress, are visibly shaken. Victoria and her soldiers set the people aside after Kona gives us the all clear. Fourteen regular citizens came out to aid us and those who stayed inside would not be faulted at all. We, the players, watch and take note of how the veterans speak to them.

They are calm. Empathetic. Reassuring. We sit beside them as they first ask if everyone is okay physically. After a cursory glance at themselves they assure us that they came out of the battle with everything they came in with. Although a few of them earned some scars, they weren't going to complain about something like that.

Then, Victoria asks if anyone felt as though they would never be able to repeat today's actions. Four of them sheepishly raise their hands and they are ushered over to speak with a one eyed, Canine Faunus named Taymin in a seperate space. Victoria asks if anyone loved the combat and couldn't wait to fight again. Two more eagerly raise their hands and Boulder walks them over to another the side.

Lastly, Victoria asks one citizen in particular why he chose to come out of the safety of the vardo to do battle with vicious monsters.

"Well, with all the recent gear, I felt like I could finally help, you know? You've all done so much for us already and when Miss Mika said it was taking too long, the rest of us decided to act." After every word, his pride and confidence begin to bubble up. By the end, his head is high and his shoulders square. There is an aura of assurance that they had done the right thing.

The soldiers all smile at the man and Vic asks, "Do the rest of you feel the same way?" They all nod emphatically, glancing around at each other. "If called upon, would you do it again?" This time, some of them hesitate, but they still nod, albeit a fraction less enthusiatically.

"I understand your doubts," she says, taking in a deep breath and letting out a slow sigh. She knows that the ones slow to agree have families that need them. "This is not a conscription, we are not forcing anyone to become something they are not." She stands, placing her hands on her hips and the militia men sit up straight at attention, "However, the bravery you showed us today is not something I am willing to waste if I can help it."

In the end they agree to become a sort of reserve force in times of need. They would be given enough Life Crystals so I could teach them Minor Survival Craft and they would receive a bit of training by Boulder and the others.

Taymin, the group's counselor and confidant, is the one who taught Victoria and the others about something he called "The Wraith of the Battlefield" or what the players would call posttraumatic stress disorder. The four he sat with had it bad and were in no shape to continue talking about it. They would be looked after and treated with care.

The ones Boulder spoke with needed to be treated in a different way. Before they could be released back with the others, Boulder wanted to ensure that they understood that today they killed monsters to protect the others and if they were to join the reserve team that senseless killing is not something that would be taken lightly.

"Even a Berserker," Boulder explains, "Has enough sense to know where to use their Bloodlust Abilities."

Once more the line is blurred. We look at each other, unsure who the real people are and who the unfeeling, unthinking killing machines are in this world. Murder hobos indeed.