Once upon a time, there was a man who sought knowledge and greatness, but not necessarily in that order. He traveled the world of Arc in search of something that would give him an edge in his field, it wasn't enough for him to be a world renowned Bard. Simple fame and fortune would not give him that which he desired most after glimpsing a tier above even the kings and queens of the land. For, at that time, there were already many who controlled the world with their power and their special connection to a place beyond.

These people- these Heroes that were chosen by the gods themselves were meant to be the bridges that connected Arc's population with the Pantheon since the gods were forbidden to directly involve themselves in the world and its affairs. Although there are ways to channel minute portions of the Pantheon's power, the Projection Ritual Spell for example, only the gods' heroes could use their powers and act out their will on Arc by proxy.

However, these Heroes were all, in a manner of speaking, still only human. And absolute power corrupts absolutely.

Instead of using their limitless gifts for the betterment of the world, they created factions amongst themselves, fighting each other for the right to influence the many countries. They destroyed and scarred vast landscapes over things that beings with such powers should have considered petty and trifling.

Who should have control over the region with the most dungeons? Who should decide which royal family owns the most fertile land? Who should get the shiniest shinies and how much should they get?

It was in the city of Denagrin, the high level Bard, a Troubadour class by then, discovered a way to finally curry the favor of the god of music, Drixianni. As charming as he was, he had convinced himself that he could easily persuade the god to take him as his vassal. Drixianni was one of the few who took no sides in the conflicts nor had a Hero of his own. After locating a legendary artifact, supposedly created by one of Drixianni's first followers when music was first invented at the beginning of civilization, and earning the nearly impossible to obtain Chain Ritual Feat, the Troubadour did what all headstrong and ambitious men do. He sought more power and more time on Arc. But, how much of either is enough for someone until they are ever satisfied?

Mithril guitar in hand and the many rituals complete, the Bard found himself in a vast space where he saw a globe bathed in ever changing lights. Lights and sounds that moved at a pace that no mortal mind should be able to perceive. His body was frozen, hanging in space as gigantic figures with horrifying, twisted bodies and seemingly black visages moved about the world at a frenzy that strained his eyes and thoughts.

Something was placed upon this caster's head and, once his ears were covered, time abruptly slowed to a crawl. Voices and noises filled his brain while a faceless head stared into his eyes. He didn't know how, but he knew he had this thing's attention.

Seconds felt like hours which felt like months which felt like centuries. Eons seemed to have passed with the screeching of demons and whispers of angels in a way the Bard couldn't ignore. When the device was lifted, a single, velvet voice reverberated in his chest.

[How'd you like my playlist? Good stuff, right? Well, looks like I gotta let you go for now. Heroes aren't allowed anymore though, so I'm just going to have send you back. Not sure where you came from, so I don't really know where to send you. Nice guitar, by the way. Looks familiar. Anyway… Goodbye, little guy!]

A flash of silvery white light later, and the Bard found himself in another city and another time. His knowledge of the sounds that he heard in that ethereal Limbo could never be matched or understood by anyone in this world, so beyond anything were those songs. This gave him great power, but a power that he could not fully control or understand. Technically, Drixianni appointed him some of his power as any Hero would receive when they were chosen. But he could not be given that title since it had become forbidden during his exile from the regular world.

Instead, he was sent back to Arc as a glitch, a bug, a mistake created by his own misguided deeds and the callous actions of a comparatively young god. His mind, terribly fractured by the previous events in that strange dimension, was ultimately shattered when he learned that several decades had passed and that he was alone in a world that no longer knew his name.

After wandering Regalus for many years, he had inadvertently found his way on the road back to the beginning of his end. He even brought along some friends, if you could call them that. Well, one of them seemed to enjoy his company. Through the crunching of a carrot, he could hear the ramblings of the Halfling. Not that he was actually listening to the words, just the fact that he was talking. Only two words seem to make it through, and they sent a very cold shiver down his spine…

"…Denagrin Plains…"

"Well, if you didn't make us take the long way round, we would've been there sooner, damn Travelers," Dez said in frustration. Although, walking through the nearby forest did give him the opportunity to kill some monsters and pick up some bones. He didn't even have to kill the former followers of the Three Thorns cult to restock his army, which grew to a maximum of seventy in the past few days of travel. But after half an hour of everyone trudging through the mist covered plains, they all got the same notification.

[Open Major Quest: Welcome to the Neighborhood

[Claim territories within the wraith's influence.]

[Reward: Clear a section of Fog of War in each territory claimed, ???.

[Failure: -1500XP, -15random Stat.

[Forever haunt the location of your death. Traveler's will relocate their revival point to the area of their death. Arceans and monsters will return as a ghoul or a shade until their subsequent re-death.

[Warning: Once accepted, you cannot leave the area of influence.]

The Halfling turns to the tiger Faunus and motions for the cultists to stop behind him. With a very rude hand gesture he tells the confused beast man, "Whoa, fuck this Quest. You Travelers are on your own! We're going back to that tower we saw in the woods."

*****

"We've got about an hour before Kil shows up. We should probably go, guys." Richter grips the handle of his bow tighter and looks to the direction of the exit. Well, I'm pretty sure that's where he's looking since we're currently on the third floor down of this "library dungeon" as Sonny called it.

Library? Yes, shelves and walls and rooms and wings of books of all sorts filled this building. A majority of them are in no shape to be read, covered in a crimson fungus or moss of some kind.

Dungeon? Another yes, one populated by traps and more of those Porcelegion soliders. As an army, they are deadly, but in this place where we find them in clusters of four or five, they're a mere trifle. After the loss of our friends, we tore into them with fresh and righteous fury in each encounter.

The traps, too, are handily bested by Richter and his Class Feat which heavily enhances his Mage Hand Spell. As an Arcane Thief, the magically summoned hand becomes stronger, can reach longer distances, and can turn invisible. All of this is very useful for setting off traps at a distance. True, Kona has the same Spell, but hers isn't as dexterous or long reaching.

The only danger on the first floor might be a nasty paper cut, or a massive poisoning from eating the red moss. So, when we unlocked the door leading down to the second floor, certain corridors had suprises waiting for us. Bladed pendulums, spiked pits, and even a haunted book laying on the floor for one of us to pick up and be cursed.

After clearing the third floor, the traps having grown more complex as well as the size of the groups we run into, we have another locked door before us. It takes us a moment to get Richter back on track and he unlocks it in about six minutes using another special Ability of the Arcane Thief, Knock. According to him, the Spell is a way to open doors with enchanted locks, like a magical lock pick set. It brings up a sort of mini-game puzzle screen that changes in difficulty according to the Level of enchantment.

"Ric and Rachel, get back to the vardo and move everyone to eight L." Dawn pushes the double door open the rest of the way and turns to the two of them. "Sonny, Ardacen, and I will finish this run and move down to nine K if we run out of time, otherwise we'll be joining you. Copy?"

They both offer an affirmative with a "Yes, ma'am," before taking off, Blink Stepping all the way. With Dawn in the vanguard, Sonny in the back with her violin in hand and Meteora in storage, and me in the center, we make our way down the stairs to the next level.

The fourth floor differs greatly from the previous three, beginning with having no sign of any books since we walked in. The walls, floor, and ceiling have no fissures, no seams anywhere, even at the corners where they meet. Although Dawn and I have no problem seeing in the dark, I ignite a torch for Sonny and she puts away her instrument. Far enough away from the torch, Dawn's vision isn't bothered by the torch at all, but I'm not so lucky. So I switch through visions until I stop at Arcane Sight.

"Holy shit, Dawn, wait up." I stop us all from taking another step. "Sonny, can you put out the torch for a minute?"

In the fresh darkness, the unblemished walls and floors light up for me with pinstripe lines of blazing blue. Pulsing in spurts of a few seconds, the lights brighten first at the doorway and race towards the end of the corridor. Instead of fading or turning another direction, the lines reach a vanishing point in the distance and explode into geometric patterns on the walls of a huge room. With each pulse, the familiar hieroglyphic writing on the walls and schematic-like drawings on the wall remain lit longer and longer.

"There's magic etching all over the place," I say after switching back to Darkvision to see if they're visible at all. Nothing. "Something is powering them, and it's getting stronger. There's a big room at the end of the hall and the energy is being led there."

"You think it's a good idea to head towards the light, Ardy?" Sonny's timing needs a little work, considering how soon we lost two of our own. But, since the system helps numb the players, she probably understood her audience better than anyone and we don't take it as roughly as another NPC probably would.

"There are a lot of things telling me that it's a good idea," I relight her torch and open up my coat to reveal the Eldritch Soldier's Tunic. "There are letters on the wall that look like this."

They both observe the silver stitching and then stare at the blank wall. They look back at me, "Can't see them, can you?" I sigh as they shake their heads. I tentatively reach for one of the lines on the wall, but Dawn slaps my hand down.

"Dude! Seriously? Just lead us to the big room." She pushes me forward, forgetting about the formation and dungeon protocal. "Always touching stuff…" If I fall into a pit trap or poisoned darts fly at me I'm going to be a little annoyed. I summon my Arcane Shield in front of me.

[You are in a Mana Redistribution Zone! Spells will cost +100% and Spells requiring concentration will cost an extra 5MP per second to maintain the Spell!]

"That can't be good…" I switch visions and watch my shield pulse in the same rhythm as the corridor while whisps of blue mana leech into the walls. I dismiss the shield and guide Sonny and Dawn down the hall, explaining what had just happened. I hypothesize to them that the etching might be drawing mana from all around and directing it towards the room at the end of the corridor. After checking my rainbow bar, I'm relieved that it's still regenerating at the normal rate.

"Well," Dawn asks as we continue walking, "Why doesn't it drain our MP, then?"

"It could be that the area is designed to affect active mana use. It may have been dormant until we arrived and casted Spells throughout the previous floors." Sonny suggests, still trying to see any of the blue lines around us. As she moves closer, she makes a startled noise and practically presses her face to the wall. "There is a thin inlay of some sort of crystal here. I believe they're the cause of the pulses you see."

She places a finger directly on the line and I confirm it. I try to Scan the spot where her finger is and the notification I get is just a bunch of gibberish letters and shapes like I'm looking at some sort of coding error. That can't be right, can it? I've used the Analyze Ability on inanimate objects before, like in Linqs Dungeon. That must mean whatever is embedded here, probably shouldn't be here at all.

Upon finally approaching the large room where all the mana is being drawn, we no longer need any visual aides. There is enough light in this chamber for us to see everything. The room is probably a couple hundred feet in diameter, about thirty or so feet tall. The walls are covered in intricate designs and reliefs. Books and miscellaneous objects are strewn about. Everything is lit up and visible in great detail due to the brilliant pillar of blue energy swirling liesurely in the center of the room.

"Whoa…" The first intelligible words to be uttered in this chamber are hardly worth any academic note, but I couldn't find anything else to say. We step forward and, besides the mass of energy, the most noticeable things in the room are the two figures trapped inside of it.

The first is a familiar looking male in extravagant clothing: a white, ruffled shirt; flamboyant, multi colored coat; and a two point hat with a ridiculous peacock style feather sticking out of the band. His body is frozen in place as if he's racing toward us, a bloody dagger gripped tight in the hand reaching for the edge of containment. Just looking at his outfit makes me a little self concious about my own and I have to check to see if I still have the Faerie Dragon Feather in my hat. I sigh, relieved, when I don't find it. I stare a moment at the curly mustache and goatee. As magnificent as they are, I feel like they're sort of… lacking? Like, if there was more hair I'd know who this guy is?

The other figure is a male in his underwear lying near the center of the field. There's a bloody hole on the neck and blood once ran down from it freely in rivers. In one hand at his blood stained chest is a small, white crystal. The other hand lies limp to his side, a small, black and white, winged figurine inches away as if it tumbled out at the time of death. This one I know for sure. He is the one from my Quest, and I explain to the others what had happened when I completed my set. Will a burial be enough for this person? The obvious culprit is standing in front of us and I give him a quick Scan.

>Scan

"That… that can't be right," I stammer as I point an accusatory finger at the Bard. "Dawn, can you Analyze this guy and tell me what you see?"

She does and gasps when the name comes up. I know she can't see any other information, but we really don't need that much data right now. Sonny investigates all the books and items on the floor while Dawn and I gawk at the frozen figure.

"He's got twenty three HP left," I muse out loud, "Should we just kill him? I kinda owe the guy on the ground a proper send off and it looks like Angus killed him."

"If he's dead, then why didn't his body get absorbed by the system or Kil or whatever is going on in this area? And if this is, like, a stasis field of some kind, how are we supposed to get to them? Turn off the field somehow?"

I shrug my shoulders and look around for Sonny, "Any ideas, kiddo?"

She's sitting cross-legged on the floor a little ways to our right, skimming trough a book, most likely the fourth, if the neat stack of three next to her is of any indication. Her head cocks in our direction and, in a low mumble,"He… wasn't sent back to the right place… I think." Before we can get clarification, she has Meteora floating above her and Sonnivarius on her shoulder like a baseball bat. With her one free hand, she has the book wide open.

"There's a lot going on right here, guys. Layers and layers of Ritual Spells. The Angus you see before you is an echo in time, no longer the real Angus. Kinda hard to explain. But, I think… I think I can shut off the field, but you're gonna have to make a choice." With hardly a strain, she stands back up as gracefully as a ballerina and stands next to us, aiming her body at the frozen Bard.

"If I gradually shrink the field, we can take care of Angus first and then put the body into storage. The downside is it'll take time to do that and we really don't have much left.

"Or, I can simply end the Spell and you'll have to choose between killing Angus before he gets whisked away to his real body… or storing the body for Ardy's Quest. Then we'll have just enough time to sprint full tilt all the way out of this territory before Kilmosoth shows up. Either way, the next time we meet Angus he might be a little 'right in the head.'"

Folding my arms, rolling my eyes and head, and sighing deeply I turn away, "The options aren't great, Sonny…" She shrugs at me with a wincing smile. I know it's not her fault, but it's still a rough spot for us to be in.

Dawn asks me to ready a Mana Potion and several Spells, moving me directly in the path of Angus. She casts Protection Aura on me, raising my Armor for the next ten minutes, and gets Sonny to Inspire me, raising my Arcane by two percent. Then, I cast Minor Arcane Shield, Lesser Dragon Force, and Hellbent Roar.

My veins are surging with lightning and flames. My body can barely contain the power within and I feel it crackling and pulsing. I'm filled with the incredible urge to do something. My pulse and breathing quicken. My eyes are straining, locking on to the frozen figure before me.

"You know what, Sonny?" Dawn asks rhetorically, "I think we'll take the third option." She positions herself closer to the body and whistles to me. I down both potions, filling up my MP.

"End the Spell!"

Sonny reads from the book, making guttural pronunciations of a language that I had no grasp of. With her final utterance, the field dissipates and Angus' momentum drives him, and his dagger, into my shield. Confused and pressed up against the purple lens, I drive my claws into his neck. His eyes are wide open in shock and terror, searching my face for answers as he gurgles in protest. He drives the dagger through my shield, shattering it, and it lodges itself in my side, between two of my ribs.

[You deal 20 piercing damage!]

[Arcane Shield blocks 370 damage! -370MP!]

[0MP remaining! Arcane Shield breaks!]

[Angus Elder stabs you for 300 piercing damage!]

[Reaction: White Flame I!]

[You heal yourself for 98HP!]

Holy shit, that was a close one. One hit from him did almost seven hundred damage and my initial stab only did twenty! I twist my claws, finishing him off, but the pain is too much and I start to falter.

[Dawn Nobel heals you for 129HP!]

[Dawn Nobel heals you for 129HP!]

"We gotta go, Ardy!" Dawn commands, the body is gone, probably in her storage and she's already preparing to leave. Sonny, too, indiscriminately scoops up all the items in the room into her storage and hops on top of Meteora. She tosses me a mana potion. I catch it and retrieve my last one, downing both as Dawn climbs aboard the flying sword. They take off and, just as I'm about to go, Angus starts to stir on the floor.

"Damn, what a waste of a high level kill. Still no XP gain," I moan to myself as I stab through his head once more.

Somewhere in Arc, a Bard is getting his shit together and I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.