Fight some monsters.

Claim some land.

Build a base of operations. Create an army.

Beat a boss and their army. Repeat.

All the while, gaining levels and loot.

This is the basic concept of a strategy game. In a lot of these games, more often than not, there is very little strategy to be found. With a big enough army, high enough levels, or rare/strong enough items equipped one side can easily bowl the other over without ever having to study the battlefield environment, enemy tactics, or even the logistics of supply transportation and relaying of information.

Fog of War? What's that? Just send a trash unit around the map until it's all explored. Food running low? Just pick some bushes or fish for a few minutes. Not enough fighting units? Just build a barracks and churn some out already.

If only it was that simple, Dawn would have her tiny, metal boot on Kilmosoth's head in hours. However, our situation has turned out to be a little more complicated for a few reasons. First, there's no way we're going to bowl over a Level 40, Tier 4 Boss monster at our level. With all of our equipment and all of current members, we would be as annoying as mosquitoes to it. Second, that's IF we could damage him at all. According to Dola, even magical weapons and Spells can't hurt it like they do the shades.

Third, we still have to run around fighting other factions, vying for territories just to clear out the stupid Fog of War covering the area, making it impossible to see farther than a few yards with any kind of vision, magic or otherwise. The water found in each place and creatures born in the fog, blue elk for example, are tainted by the wraith's corruption and can't be consumed in proper amounts without risking death by poison.

Lastly, the time limit for staying in each area is about four hours. When the time is up, Kilmosoth pays you a visit like some four story boogeyman, hell bent on tearing you to shreds with tentacles as big as buses and three times as long covered in red eyes and fang-filled mouths. That means anyone unlucky enough to wander in or be around when the fog originally hit the fan couldn't possibly have gotten more than a few hours of sleep before having to pack up and move to the next battlefield.

No food. No water. No sleep. No respite. No hope. No chance. No escape.

Well, unless you're name is Dawn Nobel and you've come up with a plan and several hypotheses that will take some time to work out. If all goes well, and Dawn is realistically banking on only a couple things swinging our way, we could possibly have a way to do this.

No doubt, the dilemma of food and water is the easiest to solve, as almost every member of Linqs is capable of purifying both to a degree. Even the older kids can do it enough to care for one other person with a couple casts of Minor Survival Craft. The soldiers, Vic, and I have capped that Skill at level five and can do the work of hundreds of filtering systems each. And, in case the Denagrin Plains happens to run out of food and/or water, we have our own enormous stores in the vardo.

The question of how one gets a full amount of sleep in this place is just as easily answered, as the kobolds are experiencing for the first time in a long time. We simply let them sleep in the vardo while scheduled shifts of guards and drivers move it around as necessary by the "rules." Nothing like seeing them knock out for sixteen or so hours on something more comfortable than damp soil and trampled grass. Of course, that gives us plenty of time to prepare the rest of Dawn's equation. I say equation since there a lot of variables that need to be solved in order to come up with her big solution.

A lot of it actually rides on two things and we found them out right away in the first territory after we narrowly escaped becoming Kil's chew toys. After claiming the area from the herd of lupalions, 6E, we stuck around and intentionally waited for the big boys to arrive so I could scan the once more. When I did, we simply scooted on over to the nearest foggy place and reset the timer.

My findings excited and intrigued us into performing several simultaneous tests in the next area, since it was unclaimed. We left it as such, found 7D, and used the map to figure where the closest territory would be to the east. I had discovered that the two Kilmosoths had remained Tier 4 Bosses, but the its HP, MP, SP, and level had split right down the middle.

>Scan[55,600/55,600HP, 12,000/12,000MP, 1800/1800SP]

After the split, the wraith was not half the size, but it was noticeably shorter than it was during the first encounter. When we fired bolt Spells or arrows at it as we fled, we all got the same notification upon each impact.

[Resistances too high, you deal no damage!]

However, when Dawn healed one, she got the notice I got when I used Healing Breeze and one of the Kils split, leaving us with three wraiths chasing us and no time to hit the remaining Level 20 to cut it in half too. We would have to wait until the next round.

Until then, and with the kobolds and most of Linqs sleeping, Elsbeth, Sonny, Conner, and I move the vardo back and forth between the unoccupied 9E and the recently liberated yet unclaimed 8E. If we were to flee to any of our claimed territories, he would follow us there. If we ran to any other area outside of our influence, we would be clear. With so many miles of territories we had plenty of time to figure out Kil's habits. Such as the way Kil always entered an area from the opposite end. We figured it did it this way so it wouldn't get ambushed from behind, but that was trivial information compared to what we actually wanted to know. Could the wraith truly be as invulnerable as it appears to be?

If not, what do we have to do to kill it?

More importantly, do we have the time to do it? Currently, we're on day thirty one, meaning we still have nine days, including today, in game left until the next Vanishing. With all the adventures we've been through, and how quickly things snowball, one would think that would be more than enough time. But, according to Dawn, we'll be cutting it close.

"So, in exchange for our territory, you're willing to give us food, water, and a place to get some real sleep?" Gobrey, the palomino Centaur stallion leader asks me. His long spear drooping to the floor gives me his answer long before any more words are spoken, but I wait for him to respond as a courtesy to his position. Aside from my shield, I'm not armed or showing any other form of aggression including my flames, which are hiding under my hat. They've returned to the sapphire blue and I finally got someone to describe my eyes, a shiny onyx color. Both flames and eyes convey emotions like skin and muscle as they shift around and darken to form my facial features. I think back to Ifrix, wondering if the other Ifrixians did the same thing and whether or not I noticed.

"And where will you house us? Kilmosoth hunts down anyone lingering beyond four hours in a single territory." He doesn't lift up the spear, but his grip tightens and threatens to break it in half. The memory of lessons learned show in his twisted, angry face. I gesture to the vardo and Dola and his tribe pile out. The anger quickly shifts like turning over a prism of emotions. Anger to confusion to deep thought to hope. And with hope, he shakes my hand, acknowledging the little kobold chief with a nod. The hope had turned to worry, but after a short conversation with Dola, Gobrey finally relaxed his scowl and shoulders.

With a grunt and a hoof stomp, we had sixteen new passengers. Now, part of Dawn's plan is for any faction we integrate to keep their territory until she asks for it, there by keeping areas to retreat to for the four hour timer. One of the questions that was bothering Dawn is straightened out by our new centaur friend.

"We are unsure how, but Kilmosoth attacks one group at a time, usually the strongest ones first. It's as if the wraith is watching our every move, waiting for any misstep, hoping for us to die in battle with each other so we can come back as the undead. And if we ever stop, becoming too fatigued from all the fighting, it sweeps us away and makes room for others."

Once again, his grim attitude shifts quickly as we present them with meals that would be more likely found in front of Elven royalty and section off an area for them to catch up on sleep. Tears stream down his tribe members's faces when we offered them the luxury of hot water baths before bed. A misty eyed Vic has her arms around my shoulders, before we have to prepare for the next step. It seems our time here is measured in four hour increments and when I realize how little is done in that time, I finally understand why Dawn proclaimed how close we'd be cutting it to the Vanishing.

Diplomacy doesn't always work out for us, and we sometimes have to acquire territory by force. Honestly, it does break up the monotany, but since we gain neither XP nor loot, it's merely a way to stretch our limbs and shake up our day. After getting my own six hour sleep in, we encounter a ruined city with another race of half Humans. This particular race, the Tlincalli, are dark tan, regular sized humans from the waist up with long, black, tightly braided hair. Their armor is a mix of bronze and leather, reminding Richter of ancient Egyptian warriors. Their lower, scorpion half is covered in an oily sheen: eight, barbed legs ending in three claws for feet; large, wide scales running down their flat, bronze colored thoraxes; and a long, curved tail with a fat bulb and sharp, dripping tip.

Gobrey and Dola tried to warn us that the Tlincalli are ruthless hunters that have been enjoying the current state of the Delagrin Plains and preying on anything closest to them. And, unlike everyone else, they are dismissive of owning territories. They used to primarily live further north, in the cliffside area we are planning on claiming for our own, and we would have had to face them sooner or later.

[You are encased in rock! You received Immobilized Debuff!]

Damn bugs and their terra Spells making me shout stupid Spell phrases, "Assassinate!" A stinger flies at my face, narrowly missing and hitting the pile of rock behind where my head was. I reappear behind the Tlancalli's torso, stabbing with an arcane katar just below the shoulder blades. With a shouting cast, Arcane Shield appears just in time to protect my back from a reactive tail strike.

[You deal 199 piercing damage and drain 38MP!]

[Arcane Shield blocks blocks 67 damage! -67MP!]

A spin and a slice and the tail tip is spurting yellow blood all over my purple magic shield while I punch a new hole into the creature's neck. I use the arcane weapon for its original intention and blast an incoming Tlancalli with a Shotgun bolt. Damaged and off balance, she isn't able to see me flip over her dead ally towards her. With my off hand I perform an Echo Strike to her throat and, after charging in the air and deftly landing on her back, cast three Arcane Bolts to the back of her head.

[You deal 187 arcane damage and drain 36MP!]

[You deal 79 arcane damage!]

[You deal 79 arcane damage!]

[You deal 82 arcane damage!]

I spin around, Roundhouse Kicking the bulbous flesh of the incoming tail, tearing it and sending it flying into the air. The damage kills her and we hit the floor with a wet thud. When the tail bit falls back down, I back flip kick it like a soccer player into the face of another. Distracting him and costing him a Smite to the abdomen from Dawn.

Despite the warnings, we did try to be diplomatic with the scorpion people. However, none of us take too kindly to unprovoked Terra Bolt Spells or, in my case, Rock Tomb, a Spell that encases your target in rock and causes a pretty useful Immobilized Debuff. Magic, poisonous, and combat oriented. They would have been a powerful addition to our efforts, but instead, they chose the way of death. And when their ghouls or shades resurrect, we kill them again.

Their leader, Chelicerata Deathstalker, was a little more open to talking when we arrived in her makeshift throne room/ egg chamber. Of course, most of her talking consisted of orders to subordinate Tlancalli and a few Tria they keep as extra large pets.

What was once most likely an luxuriously large, indoor bathhouse, is now the holding ground for dozens of two foot tall, sickly yellow eggs covered in rippling wrinkles. She chose the below ground area where the water used to be to keep herself and her brood and that worked well for us. Give us the high ground in combat? Yep. That'll work.

[You receive Paralyze Debuff for 30seconds!]

I mean, when we get through her cluster of minions and pets it will. I hit the ground on my side, unable to do so much as move my eyes to see what else is going on around me. The last thing I saw before I fell over was Chel, casting an AoE Spell that hit me and a few others on the vanguard with the Debuff. I brace myself mentally for the free stabbies the Spell afforded them, but watch in confusion and wonder as a white light fills up the area.

"Pillar of Radiance!" shouts Dawn.

[Dawn Nobel heals you for 172HP and removes all Debuffs!]

I scramble back to my feet, seeing and smelling the burnt chitin of the suffering hostiles around us. Seems Dawn's own AoE Spell has two effects, healing and curing party members and dealing radiant damage to hostiles. Chel raises her staff and inward curving short sword, readying to recast Cloud of Paralysis. I'm already teleporting next to her and conjuring a Zone of Silence. The look on her face is one that never gets old and Vic switches places with me, dueling the scorpion Cleric with an Ace and shield while I spray down the eggs with Trinity Stream. Her silent screams of anguish amplify her fighting spirit, raging against Victoria, desperately trying to reach me and end my life.

Chel is no match for Victoria, who has become a violent, sentient armory. Her smooth transitions between weapons have become faster and even more methodical. Each initial attack becomes a jab, getting a feel for her opponent's strength and timing, before finding the sweet spot, choosing the appropriate tool, and going in for the kill. This time, an Ace and a Stalker Saber are what it takes to defeat her taller, many legged foe. The iklwa negates the height and reach advantage while both weapons have broad blades that allow her to utilize her Strength for offense and defense. The magic dome shatters in time to hear Chel's dying gasp and the wet splitting sound of both weapons tearing out of her torso.

"Shouldn't have called you a bitch…"

"She shouldn't have called me a bitch, that's right, Winters." Vic's response to me is punctuated by another Trinity Stream. I store the last of the eggs for alchemical purposes, and the pop of an undead cranium as soon as Chel's ghoul came back punctuates the end of the battle.

"Totally uncalled for. The nerve of some creatures." She grins at me and jabs me in the side with her elbow. We join the others up top to mop up the remainder of the Tlancalli. Even though we claimed the territory after killing their leader, it's not like the rest disappear or get evicted from the area.

Richter kneels next to us, observing Chel's body as it evaporates, "I've always wondered what the difference was between monsters and, like, people hybrids. You know? Like it's normal for a Traveler or Arcean to be part orc or gorgon, and they're still not considered monsters."

"You really want to have this discussion right now?" Dawn asks, wiping viscous yellow fluid from her shield.

"I think you've been spending too much time with the Faerie Dragon," I say with mock concern on my face, placing a hand on his back. He laughs and I help him to his feet.

"Nah, man. I mean, like, NPC's linger when they die." He motions to the space where Chel used to be, "But monsters turn into dust right away. What's up with that?"

"We can talk about that when we have less pressing matters to focus on," Vic says with a smile. She guides us outside where the other are gathered around the vardo.

Seven monotonous days later, almost all of the goals on the board are checked off and we're a day shy from the Vanishing. All of our hard work paid off with an army of several races, the majority of territories in the Denagrin Plains soon to be under our influence, and a platoon of twelve foot tall, level one wraiths to contend with eventually. The closer we got them down to one, the shorter they got and the harder it became to determine which ones still needed to be divided. Their Scan information remained, but their constant movement threw us off. But once we got them down to level one, their resistances were finally low enough to damage, except their HP replenished after each encounter. By then, we had found an unclaimed area unlike any place we'd ever been to so far.

The city that once was, is being reclaimed slower than the rest of the fallen settlements of the area. The wide, paved roads sprout patches of grass and weeds, but the cracked remnants are still driveable. The buildings, tall and plentiful and built with dark grey concrete, are accented with a white material that looks like alabaster stone, but rings like metal when we knock on it. Arches, wide enough for six people to walk through, side by side, and tall enough for two people stacked precariously on top of each other are found everywhere we turn. Symbols and letters were etched long ago in the white metal accents and I recognized them from Mister Gearos's card and my Eldritch Soldier's set. Soon, however, we stumble into the open area/town square of the city and a nightmare scenario.

As cautious and meticulous as we were, we didn't expect to face such a force in the second to last territory, which also happens to be the largest city of all of the plains. According to Richter and Dawn, this long forgotten city could've held a population in the hundreds of thousands, not including possible spatial magic. And, thanks to the fact that this city left behind a non-living security system, it turned out to be a trip into a meat grinder.

According to our scans, the autonomous soldiers we laboriously, yet eventually defeated are called the Porcelegion. Clockwork Fighters armed and armored with a special, white metal that looks like the material accenting the city, but much tougher. Each one was Master rank crafted to look like a six foot tall Paladin covered head to foot in white plate armor, scutum shields, twelve foot spears, and double-edged shortswords that they used as soon as we got in range of them. Even the shields and weapons were made from that same metal that was as strong as steel and cut like glass. What troubled us the most was how much of them remained. Although they were all Level 25, there were one hundred of them waiting in formation for us with their Centurion Tier 2 Boss. It may only have been two levels higher, but as a boss its Stats were multiplied many times over.

When we first spotted them around the grand fountain in the middle of the opening, we assumed they were simple statues or mere decorations. Since he was part of the advance unit, Elijah was the unfortunate one to trip the legion's alarms and receive the brunt of their ire from being woken up after decades of slumber. We couldn't get to him in time, so Dawn ordered the others to return to the main unit. I knew I'd hear about it later, but I just couldn't leave him to return as a ghoul. The Rucksack of Holding soon found its way out of the Pocket Dimension and I held it like a football as I darted through the metal soldiers, evading blades and scooping the body of our friend inside. Gods I wish I wasn't already used to doing this.

Suddenly, their lines tightened and they held their shields overhead as a storm of arrows and bolt Spells rained down on them, affording me a chance to escape. With me back in formation, Dawn only shook her head at me and directed all long range attacks to continue.

Even Elsbeth, with her crazy ballista did small amounts of damage to them. Everything we threw at them was somehow blocked almost entirely and dealt minimal damage, by the large, white shields. Through a little trial and error, we learned that the soldiers prioritized blocking melee attacks over the magical ones, so as long as they were preoccupied with fighting in the front, they were defenseless to attacks from above.

Fortunately for us, their strategy seemed to be defense based in the beginning, so we were able to drop dozens of them before they shifted tactics. When the Centurion boss made its appearance, there were a little more than thirty remaining. The downside to that, however, is that they still came close to overwhelming us. It was at that point we had lost Taymin to an avalanche of the white, metal swords and I had to recapture him as well before he reanimated. If the centaurs, kobolds, and a small flock of avian Faunus who joined us earlier that day didn't participate in the battle, we would have been screwed. Well, more so than we already were.

Dawn didn't take our losses lightly, none of us did. Taymin was an essential part of the line, a phenomenal counselor, and a great friend to everyone in Linqs. Elijah was a key component in the kitchen as Gorm and Malvina's sous chef and an excellent Scout. I grip the straps of the rucksack, knowing how we all felt about them.

"I'm sorry, Taymin. Elijah. Forgive us."

Guilt. Again.

I couldn't protect them. I couldn't heal them. I couldn't save them.

I look over at Dawn and whatever I'm feeling internally doesn't compare to what I can see on her face. I walk over to her, place a hand on her shoulder, and our eyes lock.

"I… I know it's not my fault.” Her voice is strained as she searches my face, “Is this how you felt when Ramona died?"

A deep breath and a heavy sigh is my only answer, but she gets it. She replies with an upturned corner of her lips and a squinting smile in her eyes. The system is working behind those eyes, behind my eyes. We'll miss them. Remember them. But we will not mourn them. The sadness in our hearts will drain and the pit will be filled with anger at the thought of our friends.

The consolation prize loot sacks, though abundant and unexpected, do little to console us at the moment. We gather them numbly as one would with a minor chore like clipping one's toenails or taking out the trash.

"Hey, you two," Victoria calls in a hoarse voice and she clears her throat. She joins us, forming our triangle. Her arms are held tight across her chest and her eyes are red and puffy, but when she stands between us her hand reaches for mine.

"Conner and Sonny have found something of great interest if you'd like to use the remaining time to explore it."

A distraction couldn't have come at a more opportune time. While everyone else takes a moment to process this heavy loss, the players will go off and work out our emotions the only way we can.

Hand in hand with me and hand on shoulder with Dawn, Vic's hurried steps guide us to what Sonny describes as a "dungeon library." What that means I can't wait to find out, as my steps start to exceed Vic's pace and I have to calm myself so I don't drag the two of them behind me.