The group stopped briefly to visit with shepherd Magen along the way, and introduced him to their new addition. They asked about the she-dog, but he had no new information to offer them. They continued west through the pasture lands, returning once again to the forest infested by the feral dogs. Kristius took the lead, quickly blazing a trail deep into the heart of the woods. A few hours later, the trio took a break in a small glade in the woods, after having fought several packs of wild dogs. True to her word, Arabella had kept Kristius healed up while he bore the brunt of the attacks, and Niko pummeled the dogs at will. Kristius and Niko had both leveled up after their most recent encounter, so they decided to stop and rest for a bit.

“I feel like we’re spinning our wheels,” the big man huffed in frustration, ”Not a single sign of that she-dog yet.”

“Look, the shepherd said that no one had found her yet, and the forums I checked last night said basically the same thing. But she has to be out here, or the quest wouldn’t be on the table,” Niko said, as he bit off a chunk of dried mutton. His eyes widened appreciatively, ”Oh, and you’re right — this is really good stuff!”

“Maybe we should abandon this one and see if we can get some goblin quests instead?” Arabella suggested, as she nibbled at some remarkably unappealing-looking rations, ”I mean, the dogs are ok XP, but they don’t drop much worth anything. We have what, maybe 25 silver worth of hides and fangs?”

“She’s in here somewhere, we’re just missing it somehow.” Niko got up and paced restlessly around the clearing, forehead furrowed in thought. He grabbed a couple of the odd round stones from his pocket and rolled them around each other in his palm as he paced. ”Where are you?” he muttered to himself. As he walked, his shirt snagged on some thorns at the northern edge of the clearing, where the underbrush was particularly dense. As he tugged himself free, his eye was caught by a small, brightly-colored green bird that flitted down from a tree farther back in the brush. He watched as the little bird plucked a small clump of dark fur from a thorn, to use for nest material, and then it hopped across a few branches closer to Niko. It cocked its head to one side, fur clutched in its beak, and he would have sworn those beady little eyes were staring straight at him. Blink. With a flutter of wings and a flash of green, the bird was gone. Niko peered more deeply into the undergrowth, and he could see where it looked as if something might have pushed its way through the thicket, heading deeper in toward the north.

“Nudge!” he said quietly, smiling to himself. ”This way!” he called out to the others, pocketing the stones.

Kristius strode over and viewed the tangled growth with a disparaging glare. “Dude, there isn’t even a rabbit trail in there!”

Niko slapped a heavily-muscled arm as he stood beside the big man, ”That’s what you’re here for! You take lead.”

“Oh, this is so not cool dude, so not cool,” Kristius grumbled, as he swung his axe to clear a trail. Arabella joined them, and exchanged a conspiratorial grin with Niko as they formed up behind their trailblazer.

The party pushed their way through the thorny underbrush, gathering a painful collection of cuts and scratches along the way, and finding little tufts of fur just often enough to keep them moving. The forest grew more dense and wild the further north they went, and light was dimmer as the sun struggled to penetrate the heavy canopy of leaves and branches overhead. After nearly an hour of torturously slow progress, Kristius came to an abrupt halt, huffing and sweating from his efforts. Niko and Arabella leaned around either side of the burly fighter to see why he’d stopped. In front of them was a small clearing in the brush at the foot of a large hillock, in the side of which a tunnel had been dug, leading down into the darkness. Large canine paw prints marked the hard-packed earth around the opening.

“Ok, maybe this is a little bit cool, but there is no way you could have stumbled on this without blazing a hella trail here,” Kristius said, wiping sweat from his face with a forearm.

“Yeah, Niko, how did you know?” Arabella asked.

“Umm…“ he quirked a whimsical smile at her, “...a little bird told me,” he replied, as he rummaged in his satchel.

She rolled her eyes at him. “Fine! Be all mysterious then.”

Niko handed out torches to his companions, which they lit with a few quick strikes of Dwarven firesteel. Arabella cast Armored Body on the party, giving them each three extra points of armor. Kristius eyed the other two, eyebrow cocked questioningly. At their nods, he gripped a torch in one hand and his axe in the other, squatted down, and awkwardly started duck walking into the tunnel. Niko followed, and Arabella brought up the rear, both of them ducking and squatting to fit into the low opening.

The tunnel sloped gently downward, curving slightly clockwise, for around 20 feet or so. It opened out into a fairly large chamber, roughly 60 feet in diameter and about 15 feet high. The trio stood up straight with collective sighs of relief. The chamber reeked, an odious stench of offal, dirty fur, and other scents Niko didn’t really care to identify. He could see a mound of indeterminate debris piled up near the back of the cavern, but there was no immediate sign of the den’s occupant. The trio worked their way cautiously across the chamber, sidestepping the bones and other refuse scattered around the floor. They warily approached the pile — which was mostly made up of old clothing, strips of tattered cloth, patches of fur-covered pelt, and many, many well-gnawed bones — and Niko saw a small black pup sleeping in it.

Just as he started to reach down towards the pup, they all heard a deep, rumbling growl coming from behind them. The sound was so powerful that they could feel it resonating in their bones. Whipping around in alarm, they saw a huge dog with thick dappled gray fur, hackles spiked. She had a monstrous and wicked-looking muzzle, teeth locked on a bloody lump of unidentified meat, and her eyes reflected red sparks in the flickering of the torch light. The matriarch of the feral pack was far larger than any of her progeny that they’d so far encountered, standing chest-high to Niko at her shoulder, and with a thick and muscular-looking body. She lowered her head and dropped what she’d been carrying in her mouth. Lips peeled back in a menacing snarl, she bared blood-stained yellowed fangs as she let out a another growl from deep in her chest.

“Ummm.. that ain’t a dog,” Kristius whispered, ”That’s a fucking pony with fangs! And I’m pretty sure that’s a leg she just dropped, too.”

Niko never took his eyes from the creature before them as he tersely issued orders in a low voice. “Kristius, up the middle and pull aggro. Arabella, you keep him alive while I circle around and try to get behind her.”

“That’s the plan?!” Kristius hissed over his shoulder.

“Got something better?”

“Nope, just asking.” Kristius jammed his torch into the dirt and starting moving guardedly toward the snarling monster, two-fisted grip tight on his axe, ”Niiice doggy, niiice doggy, niii… shit!” He brought his axe up, braced crosswise in both hands, just as the dog lunged at him, snarling savagely. The impact drove him back several paces, but he managed to keep his feet and knock the rending jaws aside, then whipped the handle around to slam it into the dog’s head. The animal yelped and snapped at the axe handle, and Niko took advantage of the distraction to run around behind the dog.

Kristius had all he could manage just to dodge and parry the creature’s surprisingly swift and vicious attacks, but he moved quickly and gracefully for a man his size, and managed to land a few blows even as he ducked and spun. When Niko judged that the dog’s attention was focused fully on Kristius, he activated Stone Fist and leapt into the fight, pounding at the hound’s back, legs, ribs — anywhere he could land a punch. He barely dodged back in time as she turned her head to snap at him, but Kristius quickly proved himself the greater threat, and she spun back after him with redoubled ferocity. She wheeled in a slow circle around the fighter, attacking relentlessly, and managing to keep her flank largely away from Niko’s fists.

The pace was ruthless, and Kristius’ reactions gradually slowed as his endurance flagged. The dog began to break through his defenses, landing painful bites on his arms and legs, and clawing bloody furrows in his skin. Arabella tried darting in to help him, but the leaping and whirling animal slammed bodily into her, knocking her across the cavern and leaving her in a dazed heap on the floor.

However, the mongrel was losing steam as well, as the blows landed by her attackers took their toll. Finally, desperately, she caught them off guard when she suddenly leapt up over Kristius’ head. As she soared over him, she turned and locked her wicked fangs brutally into the flesh of his shoulder, using her momentum to pull him over backwards with her as she landed. Kristius screamed out in pain, blood fountaining from the wound, and the dog, jaws still clamped, shook the big man back and forth as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. Before Niko could close the distance between them, she whipped her head to fling the fighter off to one side, his health bar a flashing red alarm at 10 percent in the group combat display.

As Niko charged forward, he saw the hound crouch down, preparing to leap on Kristius and finish him off. In unthinking panic, he grabbed her tail with both hands and activated both Focus Energy and Immovable Object as he planted his feet solidly in the earthen floor. The dog yelped and Niko grunted explosively as she came to an abrupt stop in mid-jump, and he thought it would surely yank his arms right out of their sockets.

He wasn’t ready for it when she spun around and grabbed his right forearm in her teeth, piercing skin and flesh, and crushing the bones together, and he screamed out at the incredible blinding agony of the bite. He couldn’t stop screaming as she jerked her head forcefully from side-to-side, until she finally slammed him down to the ground. His own health bar flashed in crimson warning, his right arm was a bloody mangled mess, and he couldn’t seem to clench his fist. Through pain-spangled vision, Niko watched, horrified, as the monster opened her mouth wide, snarling, and bloody saliva dripped from her fangs. Weakly, painfully, he brought up his uninjured fist, ready to take one last defiant swing before she ripped out his throat.

Then he heard Kristius bellow, “Over here, bitch!”

Arabella had recovered from her fall, and while the creature was savaging Niko she’d gotten Kristius’ health back up to 40 percent. Now the big man was charging with blood in his eyes.

The dog spun around to meet the charge, but it was too late. Kristius swung the axe in a broad roundhouse swing, burying the edge deep in her mouth, nearly severing the lower jaw from her head. Yanking the bit free, he followed up with a powerful overhand strike, driving the blade down into the mongrel’s skull and hammering her to the floor in a lifeless heap. Chest heaving and gulping air, the big man carefully watched the dog for signs of life while he caught his breath.

Niko felt a tingling wave of warmth wash over him as Arabella cast a healing spell on him, and he exclaimed his relief as the debilitating pain in his arm faded to a much more tolerable level. She helped him to his feet, and then continued casting healing spells on both men until they were nearly back up to 100 percent health.

End of combat log:

You have gained 390 experience (300 base plus 30% bonus)

“Aaand that is the last joule of my mana,” Arabella muttered wearily as she collapsed cross-legged on the floor.

Kristius clapped a ham-sized hand on Niko’s shoulder. “Dude, we need to keep this chick around, ‘cause without her, we would’ve been done for! Well, at least, you would’ve been done for. I probably would’ve survived, due to my unbeatable awesomeness, but I would’ve felt bad for you. Not real bad, I mean, ‘cause you wouldn’t actually die, but then you’d be back at the life stone looking all sad and stuff, and then I’d have to come cheer you up, and we’d probably end up drunk and hungover and in the wrong bed, and I hate when that happens. Oh, and it was a leg the dog was carrying, I checked. Might have been human, I dunno, definitely way too long for a dwarf, y’know? Elven, maybe? Hey Arabella, can I see one of your legs to compare? Take off your pants.” The girl graced him with a disdainful glare.

“Kristius, please shut up… ” Niko sighed, looking at the she-dog’s corpse.

Kristius arched an offended brow. “Hey, just saying, we should keep her around.”

Niko reached down into the dog’s corpse, and found himself holding two huge fangs, a full hide of gray fur, and two large eyes. He tried to shake the persistent feeling that the eyes stared at him in disapproval.

“Congratulations!

You have gained 2340 experience (1500 base + 30% bonus +20% first kill bonus)

“Congratulations!

You are the first to complete the Big Bad Mama quest! All treasures found are increased 25% in value!

A soft bell sounded in Niko’s ear, and Fabella’s voice radiated warm approval.

“ Congratulations, you have gained a level! You are now 7th level!”

Niko started toward the nest of debris and then stopped and smiled as a small, pot bellied pup waddled out and grumbled a menacing little puppy-growl at him. He spoke soothingly to it as he approached, and when its little tail began to waggle hesitantly, he picked it up and cradled the puppy against his side with one arm. It squirmed and wriggled itself into a comfortable position and hung draped across the man’s forearm, panting happily. Niko poked through the pile of refuse with his free hand and discovered a small tooth-marked pouch attached to the gnawed remains of a leather belt. He tossed the pouch to Arabella and rummaged around some more, collecting a total of four gold, five silver in an assortment of various coins. Finding nothing else of value, he kicked free of the nest and returned to his companions. The puppy dozed contentedly, drooling on his arm. Arabella held the contents of the pouch out to show him, and Kristius seemed to be distracted, staring at his axe with a bemused expression on his face.

“Looks like a couple of minor healing potions, one minor mana, and some kind of needle that I can’t identify,” Arabella reported.

Niko glanced briefly at Kristius, who remained preoccupied, and then looked at the needle that Arabella held up. It appeared to be nothing more than a plain unadorned sewing needle. He said, ”Examine,” and a small info-panel popped into view:

Needle of Material Enhancement

Abilities: ?????

Quality: Good

Durability: 12/15

You do not have the requisite skill to identify the abilities of this item

“Hmm, no, I can’t either.”

Arabella pursed her lips in thought. “When Lucius logs in, I can ask him to give it a try. Mages have a lot higher innate ability to identify items. Want me to hang onto it till we know what it is?”

Niko cocked an appraising eye at Arabella. ”You plan on sticking with us a while?”

She looked down at her toes drawing an aimless pattern in the dirt for a moment, then raised her eyes to meet his gaze, ”Yeah, if you don’t mind. I mean, my brother’s sole interest was grinding mobs till we got strong enough to throw down on bigger mobs. Me, I like the side stuff — you know, quests and stuff with a story to it. I think Lucius would prefer that, too.”

“And Lucius, you don’t think he’ll hold a grudge?”

“Nah, we already talked about this before. He feels the same as me.”

Niko nodded brusquely, “Sure, then hang onto it for now. Until we know what it is, we can’t put a value on it.” He turned to Kristius, who was still intent on his axe, ”OK, now what’s up with you and that axe?”

Kristius looked over at Niko, and then back to the axe again, ”You remember when I got this thing, right? The handle was dry and splintery, and it kinda looked like a dog’s hind leg, remember?” He presented the axe for inspection, ”Check it out now.”

Niko took a closer look at the axe and realized with a shock that the handle was now almost perfectly straight, and the wood was smooth and nearly unblemished. Kristius flipped the axe around to proffer up the end of the handle, pointing out a dull metal ball embedded neatly in the knob.

“It didn’t have this counterweight then, either. Try ID’ing it.”

Niko invoked the “Examine” command, causing an info-panel to pop into view. He heard Arabella echo his command softly as she had a look at the weapon along with him.

Battle Axe of Demarca the Slayer

Abilities: ??????

Quality: Poor

Durability: 21/35

“OK, so what does this mean?”, he asked, brow furrowed in perplexity.

“Dude, when I first got this, there was no name, the durability was half what it is now, and the quality was junk. I really figured I’d only get a couple whacks out of it before it busted up completely, and then I’d have to get a new weapon. But this thing is ‘healing’ itself, kinda like that old classic ebook about the possessed gas-powered car back in the late 1900s. What was that called? Christine?”

Niko goggled his eyes in mock astonishment. “You’ve read a book?”

“Dude, I’m not illegitimate… besides, I watched the video on retro movie night on VidSpot.”

“I think you mean illiterate,” Arabella interjected with a giggle.

“Nope, I can read just fine. Seriously, I’m not illegitimate, even though my brother says I look more like the neighbor than my dad. But then, wouldn’t that make the neighbor my dad? And so, who would my dad be? I mean, he lived with us, so he couldn’t be my neighbor, right?” Kristius pondered with a reflective frown.

Arabella looked confused, and opened her mouth to reply when Niko held up a hand at her. “Don’t, just don’t… it’ll only make your head hurt,” he warned.

Kristius affected an injured expression. “Not cool dude,” he sighed woefully, as he headed for the cave exit.

The trio encountered a few packs of the feral dogs as they worked their way back through the forest toward Magen’s meadow. Surprisingly, whenever the packs got close to the group, the animals would stop abruptly, eyeing the party intently, and then swiftly and silently disappear back into the undergrowth.

“Guess we’re the new alphas,” Kristius observed, as yet another pack backed away from them.

Niko watched the animals fade into the brush, ”So it seems.” He looked down at the pup in his arms, ”Let’s get this li’l guy back to Magen.”

The shepherd stood in his customary spot in the meadow, and when they approached and showed him the she-dog’s hide he could hardly contain his astonishment.

“Ye done kilt the she-dog? And grabbed me a pup to boot?” He gently took the pup from Niko’s arms, ”Y’all be amazing! Ain’t no one been able to find that critter afore now. I be thanking ya agin. Me wife is in the small shop next to the blacksmith’s. Go tell her that ye be the ones I told her about, and that ye were good to yer word. She’ll give ye the mutton I promised, and the recipe. I only be asking that ye don’t share it around, ‘tis an old family secret.” He set the puppy down next to Oscar, who sniffed at the newcomer thoroughly and licked its muzzle before putting his head back down on his paws. The puppy, tail thrashing vigorously, cuddled up against the older dog and curled up for a nap. ”Looks like they be gettin’ along OK. I think Oscar will be able t’ tolerate him,” Magen said, smiling down at the dogs. He looked up at the trio, beaming, and continued, ”I’ll be letting some o’ the others around the village know ye kin be counted on.” He flapped his hands at them in a shooing motion, “Go on now, go see the Missus. Have a cup o’ tea.”

A short while later, the three of them were seated around a table at the Red-Headed Rooster with foamy mugs in front of each of them, and the proceeds from the sale of their loot in a shiny pile in the middle. Covetous stares from other patrons earned fierce glares from the entire trio, and they were quickly left to themselves after Kristius unlimbered his axe and leaned it conspicuously against the edge of the table. After selling the smaller hides, the fangs, and the mother dog’s eyes to Higgs (the eyes had actually caused the little halfling to rub his hands in avarice, muttering something about rare spell components), they had added another nine gold to the coins they’d already found in the lair, so each of them wound up with a total of four gold and five silver coins. They still had the the mother dog’s hide and the mysterious needle. When they’d identified the hide, they had discovered that a good tailor could use it to make a valuable cloak. The needle was still an unknown.

Niko rolled a smooth round rock around in one hand, and ran the other hand across his head, ”OK, so Arabella is going to hang onto the needle for now, and hopefully Lucius can figure out what it is later on. The hide we’ll hang onto, until we can find a tailor or someone with the skill to make something useful from it. So next thing, let’s go get the mutton recipe from Mrs. Magen, and then after that we can all go get some training. We’re all seventh level now, so we should have a few new abilities available. We can check out some more quests, and then log. Sound good?” When the other two nodded, Niko finished off his mug, wiped an arm across his lip, stuffed the hide in his satchel, and they all headed out the door.

The party walked through the village towards the smithy, and the distinctive clanging of the smith’s hammer grew steadily louder as they approached. When they arrived at the little cottage next to the smithy, Kristius hitched a thumb at the shop. ”I’m gonna step in over there and see if the blacksmith can tell me anything more about this axe.” The others nodded their acknowledgment, and he strode over and ducked through the shop’s wide doorway, where the forge’s glow lit the interior with ruddy light.

Niko and Arabella went up to the little house, which was small but well-kept, with cheerily painted shutters at the windows and bright-colored flowers in planters all around. Niko knocked on the door, and after a few moments it was opened by a plump older lady wearing wire-rimmed spectacles, her gray hair in a bun, who peered curiously out at them.

“Yes? Can I he’p ye?” she asked, regarding them expectantly with bright, intelligent eyes.

“Yes ma’am, your husband sent us here. He told us that if we took care of a little problem for him, that you might share a recipe with us?” Niko replied, dipping his head politely.

She nodded affirmation, “Ah! Ye be the young’uns Yar spoke of! Aye, I’ll surely do as he promised ya, but I’ll be needing proof the old bitch truly be dead.” She wagged a finger at them in warning, “And do nay be trying to fool an old woman, for I’ll be knowing the truth of it!” she exclaimed. Niko produced the hide from his satchel, and her eyes went wide in astonishment. ”Aye, aye, that be hers true enough! I chanced to see her once, years ago, and that silvery color surely be what I seen. Gods, so she finally be dead? Maybe now me dear husband won’t be losing so many of his flock.” She stepped back with a broad smile, holding the door open for them. ”Please come in!”

Mrs. Magen seated them at a tidy little table in the kitchen and offered them a cup of tea. She bustled energetically about, setting out cups and silverware, along with a plate of tasty-looking little cakes. She scooped leaves from a canister on the counter into a cheery little teapot and added water from a kettle over the fire before she set it down on the table in front of them. ”Give me just a moment and I’ll be getting ya a copy of me recipe.” She shook a finger at them again in admonition, “Now, do nay be sharing it! It has never been outside me own family before! I tell ye this, I do nay have all the makings of it here, so it do nay be as good as it could be. If ye manage to find all the ingredients and follow the directions rightly, ye’ll be surprised at the results!”

Niko carefully poured out three cups of tea. He set one in front of Arabella and took one for himself, along with one of the little cakes. “Thank you Mrs. Magen, it’s already delicious beyond words,” Niko said, ”I’m not sure how a few more ingredients could possibly improve it.” He nibbled at the cake, and his eyes widened in appreciation at the delicious flavor.

The old woman rummaged through a well worn wooden box on the counter by the stove, and uttering an “Aha!,” she returned to the table bearing a small card covered with printing in a neat hand. Smiling, she handed the card to Niko. “Aye, it do be good, but it truly kin be far better still! I suggest ye burn this card into yer memory afore ye leave here this day. I do nay anyone t’ have it that has nay earned it! Your word on that!” She regarded Niko severely over the rims of her spectacles.

“My word, ma’am. I won’t give it to anyone,” he declared solemnly, placing his hand over his heart. Reaching out with a gentle smile, Mrs. Magen patted him on the cheek. Looking down at the card, Niko recognized most of the ingredients listed, but a couple of them were unfamiliar to him. He glanced up at Mrs Magen with a questioning look.

“Ye seem like a good boy, I feel I kin trust ye. I only know what the basic fixin’s are… them last two bits I have no clue about. My ol’ gran was a lady who could tell ye what kind of plant ye was holding and what it could do jest by looking at it. Sadly, I dinna learn all she knew afore she passed. Mayhap ye will have better luck.” She took a sip of her tea and continued, ”So, what do ye think ye’ll be doing with that hide?”

“We’re not sure,” Arabella replied, ”We thought it might make a good cloak, but it takes a skilled tailor to do it.”

“Aye, it would make a good one at that. But we be having no tailor in this town — though we do be having a fair good seamstress,” Mrs. Magen answered with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

Arabella picked up the hint and a smile lit her face, “You're a seamstress.”

The older woman chuckled. “Aye, been stitching clothes since I was a wee thing. So, would ya be liking me to make ye a cloak? It’d nay be too fancy, but it would protect ye some. It’ll cost ye a bit o’ coin though.”

“How much coin, if I may ask?” Niko took the hide from his satchel again, setting it out before the woman.

She examined the material shrewdly. “That be depending on what threads ye be wanting me to use, and what cloth for to line it with. Fer a few silver, I kin make ye a sturdy cloak with a strong waxed thread and a soft lining of lamb’s wool. If ye be wanting the best I kin make, I have a bit of spider silk thread and some fine elven satin. Fer that, it’d cost ye about two gold.”

Niko sipped his tea as he thought for a moment, ”OK then, let’s do the two gold.” An idea occurred to him, and he asked, “Mrs. Magen, could you look at something for us? You might be able to tell us what it is.” He motioned to Arabella, who nodded in understanding and pulled out the needle they had found. When the old lady saw it, her eyes opened wide.

“Ah! Now that be a treasure!” She carefully took the needle from Arabella and inspected it closely. ”The mongrel bitch be having this?” Niko and Arabella nodded in unison, and she set the needle down on the table. ”Are ye wanting to be rid of it?”

Niko looked down at the needle, then back to the woman, “Maybe, but we don’t know what it does or what it’s worth. Can you tell us?”

“I kin do ye one better than that,” she replied, and laid a finger on the needle. She seemed to concentrate for a moment, then sat back in her chair, smiling. ”Now it should make more sense to ye, children.”

Niko and Arabella both looked down at the needle and invoked the ‘examine’ command almost in unison.

Needle of Material Enhancement

Abilities: In the hands of a tradesman trained in the ‘needlecraft’ skill, any clothing manufactured using this needle will gain 10% durability. In addition, anyone attired in the enhanced clothing will gain 3 points of armor, as well as a 2 point bonus to one random statistic for as long as the item is worn and its durability remains above 10%. Each such use of the needle consumes 1 charge.

Charges: 12/15

Quality: Good

Durability: 12/15

Niko whistled softly, ”That is one nice little needle.” Arabella nodded briskly in agreement.

“Aye, that it be!” Mrs. Magen replied, shaking her head sadly, ”I do nay have enough money to pay ye its worth outright, but mayhap ye’d be willing to make a trade?” She looked hopefully back and forth from Arabella to Niko and back again.

Niko glanced at Arabella, who nodded for him to respond. He smiled at the old lady, ”Ok ma’am, what kind of trade do you have in mind?”

“I can make ye that cloak as we talked about afore, with me finest material and using this needle, and t’ boot I kin make ye both satchels that’ll hold twice as much as the ones ye got now, and only be half the weight of what they hold besides!”

Niko considered her offer as he took a sip of tea. “Hmm... can you make it three satchels?” he countered, “We have a friend next door.”

Mrs. Magen looked longingly at the needle for a moment, and then nodded her acceptance with a broad smile, ”’Tis a bargain, then!” She spit into the palm of her hand and held it out to Niko. Shrugging, he spit in his palm in the same manner and shook her hand. ”Ye come back here in three days and I’ll be having it all ready!”

The two thanked Mrs. Magen for the tea and cakes as they left, and then went next door to the smithy to find Kristius. As they entered the shop, they found him deep in conversation with a thickly muscled blonde human — who Niko thought looked like a Norse Viking from a history vid — as they leaned over the axe on a workbench in front of them.

The smith was speaking as they approached, “Here, you can see the faint outlines of some sort of runes on both the handle and the cheek. Never seen anything like it,” he said, tracing the lines with a thick, soot-smudged finger. Looking up, he spotted the new arrivals and made a choppy bow in their direction. ”Greetings. Can I help you?” His voice was an incongruous tenor for a man his size, and his speech bore a faint hint of a guttural accent.

Before either of them could answer, Kristius spoke up, ”These are the friends I told you about. The elven chick is Arabella, and the bald guy is Niko.” He leaned toward the smith conspiratorially and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, ”Try not to stare at his head or mention that he has no hair. He’s real touchy about it!” He straightened up, turned to his companions, and indicated the smith with a hand. ”This here is Ed.”

Niko saw the smith flinch, ”Actually, it’s Edwin,” he corrected, as he held out a thick calloused hand first to Niko, and then to Arabella, ”A pleasure to meet you both.”

“Ed’s been pointing out a bunch of stuff I didn’t notice before, like runes and stuff,” Kristius flipped Edwin a silver coin as he picked up the axe and sheathed it in the scabbard over his back with practiced ease, ”But we still don’t know squat about what it can do.”

Edwin nodded. “If anything else about it changes, please bring it back. I’d love to examine it some more.”

“Will do Ed, have a great day,” the big man replied cheerfully, as he ducked out the door.

“It’s Edwin,” the smith sighed, as the other two followed their friend out to the street.

The three companions grabbed a seat on a bench under a nearby tree. Niko fished a couple of smooth round stones out of his pocket and rolled them around in his hand with a rhythmic clacking sound as he recounted everything that happened with Mrs. Magen.

“Dude! That is sweet! An awesome cloak and three uber satchels!” Kristius hooked a thumb at the axe on his back, ”But still nothing more here. What the hell did Helga give us?”

“Helga?” Arabella looked up at the big man in surprise, ”As in the orc goddess Helga?”

“Hey, you know her? Yeah, she’s ok, but she really could use a bra— ” Kristius caught Niko glaring at him, shaking his head in warning, ”—buuut, we're kind of under a non-disclosure agreement, so that’s about all I can say.”

Arabella looked at Niko in puzzlement, who shrugged noncommittally. Curiosity was plain on her face, but thankfully she let the subject drop.

Niko stood up and dropped the stones back in his pocket. “Ok, what do you say we go see what training we can find?” Kristius and Arabella agreed, and got up to follow him as he approached a watchman standing at a nearby intersection. ”Excuse me sir, could you tell me and my friends where to find some trainers in town? We need one for the healing arts, one for the art of combat, and one for a specialty in hand-to-hand fighting.”

The guard scratched thoughtfully at his chin for a moment before pointing toward the southern end of the village, ”The town chapel is down that way. I suppose Friar Franco could help some with the healing part.” He turned and pointed to the west, ”The town barracks is over that way. Find Sergeant Satler, he can probably hook you up with some weapons training.” Finally, pointing to the east, he continued, ”And back that way, out on the edge of town, is old man Taggart’s place. He kinda keeps to himself, lives alone in that little ramshackle hut out there, but I heard tell he was quite the brawler back in his younger days. He might could give a pointer or two regarding fisticuffs.”

Niko thanked the man and slipped him a silver coin, who gave a smile and a wink as the coin disappeared with nearly magical rapidity. He turned to his companions, ”Ok, let’s split up and try to get some training. How about we log out after that, and meet up at the tavern tomorrow morning, say around 8 am?” Kristius tipped him a thumbs up sign, and Arabella grinned and nodded, so the three of them went their separate ways.

Niko headed east through the village until buildings and crowds were left behind. As he left the town proper, he spotted a run-down little hut made of plain mud brick, with a tattered thatch roof that seen its better days. Stepping hesitantly up to the door, he rapped on it carefully and waited. After a few moments with no reply, he rapped again, calling out, "Master Taggart?"

He was just about to knock again when he finally heard the sound of movement inside. The door was abruptly snatched open, and he found himself facing a stout older man with close-cropped gray hair, broad shoulders, and thick muscular arms. Dark gray eyes glared out at him from under thick-bristled eyebrows. The man reminded Niko of the archetype drill sergeant from some of the old war videos he’d watched as a kid.

"Who are ya? What do ya want? And why in all the gods’ names are you bothering me?" Taggart fixed Niko with a steely glower as he waited for an answer.

Taken aback, Niko stammered, "Um, hi, my name is Niko. I need unarmed combat training, and I was told you might be able to help me."

"Ooohhh! Well that changes everything! OK — Niko, was it? — here’s some prime training advice for you: go screw yourself with a spear shaft until it stops hurting! There, see? All trained.” Taggart slammed the door shut in Niko’s dumbfounded face.

"I'm pretty sure NPC trainers are supposed to be helpful… I thought,"' he muttered grimly to himself. Reaching out he rapped firmly on the door again, "Master Taggart, I really would like to learn from you, sir."

"Go bugger your sister’s dog! Or your sister, either one is fine," came the muffled reply.

"Master Taggart, I was told you’re the best there is to train me,” Niko pleaded, rapping the door again. "Master Taggart?" He stepped back reflexively as a red-faced Taggart abruptly yanked the door back open.

"Who told you that, so I can go kick his ass after I get done kicking yours!"

Niko’s temper flared, "Look, old man, I need a little help here, and I'm willing to pay… oomph!" He never even saw the fist coming at him, nor the kick that followed it, sending him flying ass-over-teakettle. He suddenly found himself flat on his back, staring at the sky and gasping for breath. "Damned fast for an old fart," he groaned. He rolled over to his stomach and lurched gracelessly to his feet, turning to face Taggart.

"That enough training for you, boy?" Taggart stood with both hands clenched into fists, ready to burst into motion like a coiled spring. Niko brought up his hands and activated his Stone Fist ability.

"No sir, I think we have a lot more to go," he replied through gritted teeth. He swung a wild right hook at Taggart, who leaned easily back out of its way and then launched a flurry of short, straight jabs to Niko’s face, breaking his nose and sending him crashing to the ground again. Groaning against the pain, eyes streaming, Niko wiped blood off on a sleeve and tried to climb unsteadily back to his feet, only to have a rock-hard fist crash into the side of his jaw, sending him headlong to the dirt again.

"Stay down, boy, I ain't in the mood to train some little dumbass today — or any other day — so consider this your free lesson," Taggart growled as he turned away.

Niko shook his head like a dog shedding water, sending blood, tears, and snot flying, and stubbornly stood up on shaky legs. "Kiss my ass, you old S.O.B. If this is the only way I can learn what I need, then let’s keep going." He swung clumsily at the back of the old man's head. Taggart ducked the blow effortlessly, and drove an elbow backwards into Niko’s already-broken nose, then spun around and kicked his feet out from under him. Niko landed on his back again with a whuff of expelled breath, keening over the incredible intensity of pain from his banged-up nose, and lay on the ground for a few moments, gathering his will. Then he started clambering laboriously back to his feet again, as Taggart watched him with his arms crossed over his chest. Niko doggedly brought up his fists and lurched raggedly at the old man, only to find himself spun around, one of Taggart’s thick arms wrapped around his neck, and his own right arm jammed painfully up behind his back.

"Gods be damned, boy, if you ain’t got some spit to ya," the old man grunted, as he released Niko and shoved him staggering away. He huffed in resignation. "Fine, I’ll teach ya a few things. I better, before I end up in jail for murdering some feeble-minded jackass. All right, boy, come on inside." Taggart turned and went into the house, leaving the door open for Niko to follow. Once inside, Niko saw that the interior of the one-room hut was very spartan, but neat and clean, unlike its exterior appearance. There was a utilitarian cot, tightly made, in one corner of the room. Two crude stools sat next to a small plank table bearing an old battered oil lantern at one side of a small fireplace, and several bookshelves filled with books lined the walls. Taggart sat on one of the stools and gestured for Niko to take the other, then tossed a dampened cloth over to him.

"For your nose”, he said.

Niko’s out-of-combat regeneration had stopped the bleeding, and the worst of the incredible pain was beginning to subside, but he scrubbed at his face to wipe off some of the blood. Getting it off his clothes, however, would require more than just a hand towel. Holding the rag against his still-sore jaw, he faced the old man, who had produced a tobacco pouch and pipe. Taggart took his time filling the pipe, and then casually plucked a still-glowing ember from the fire with his bare fingers to light it. Niko watched, speechless and goggle-eyed with astonishment, as Taggart calmly held the hot coal to the bowl of the pipe, puffed it alight, and then tossed the coal back into the fireplace.

Taggart chuckled at the expression on Niko's face, "An old parlor trick I like to do to impress the DUNGs. You’ll be able to do it eventually too, if you stay up on your training.”

Niko looked puzzled. “Dungs? What’s a dung?”

Taggart took a long draw on his pipe and blew a cloud of apple-scented smoke up toward the ceiling, ”Dumbass Useless New Guys.”

Niko snorted and rolled his eyes at the mockery.

“Ok boy, so tell me why you're so hot to learn unarmed combat. Most of you newly minted adventurers want to run around chopping things up with swords or blasting them with magic.”

Niko shrugged, ”I’m not sure, exactly. It was kind of thrust upon me. I’ve used what few skills I have and I’ve done OK so far, but to be honest, it’s been somewhat less than impressive to me so far.”

Taggart snorted, ”Yeah, it’s not like wearing sparkly armor and swinging a glowing sword. And it doesn’t have the pizzazz of throwing gouts of fire from your hands. So if you’re that unimpressed, why not change over to something more flashy?”

“Well, like I said, I’m really not sure.” Niko ran a hand over the top of his head, ”I think some part of it is just that I like to finish what I start.” He looked down at his bare, dirty feet and suddenly felt awkward. He brushed at his ragged shirt, self-consciously noticing the stains, tears, and frayed edges. He looked back up at Taggart. ”On top of that, I keep hearing about how the monk, or martial artist — or whatever you want to call it — is the weakest, most pathetic class out there. The more I hear it, the more I’m determined to prove them all wrong. It seems to me that in a one-to-one fight, it could be a pretty awesome class.”

Taggart inhaled deeply and exhaled another plume of fragrant smoke. He pointed at Niko with the stem of his pipe as he spoke, ”Let me tell you boy, if you achieve mastery, you surely can become a force to be reckoned with. If you achieve mastery, which most don’t. Most don’t even get past the tens before they switch over to one of the other classes, where getting powerful is easier to do.” Taggart shook his head in reproof and clamped the pipe back between his teeth. He gave Niko a hard look and spoke around the pipestem, ”That's why I quit training folks. I got tired of hearing about how tough it is. Damn crybabies! Always looking for the faster, easier way. A warrior can hide behind his shield and use a long-reaching weapon to help avoid his opponents, up to a point. The flingers and slingers and fancy spell-wingers can hide behind the warriors and shoot or cast magic from a safe distance, but us hand-to-hand types, well, we gotta be right up there in the middle of the fray. Our weapons are right here at the end of our arms and legs.” He held up a bony fist to make his point.

“Are you a master?”

Taggart puffed out a short smoky laugh, ”Gods no, boy! Oh, I’m pretty well trained, no question, but I never chose a path of enlightenment to follow. I just stuck with the basic skills, practiced and honed them as best I could, and earned a reputation and a little bit of gold fighting in tourneys and arenas and such. Then I retired to this backwater little town. Tried training a few folks, but most of ‘em lost interest when the fights got to be too tough.”

Niko furrowed his brow in curiosity, “What’s the path of enlightenment?” he asked.

“When you reach the tenth level in your class — if you do — you’ll go before the masters of the school of refinement — yeah, stupid name, I know.” Taggart rolled his eyes. “There, you will be introduced to the three paths of enlightenment: resilience, motion, and augur. Once you’ve been shown those paths, you’ll be asked to pick one of them to follow. If you do, then from that point forward you’ll train to master that path — or you can be like me, and just continue to improve your skills without becoming a master. The choice is yours.”

Niko mulled over what the old man had told him for a few moments in silence, as Taggart sat quietly puffing his pipe. “What would you recommend?”

Taggart shook his head, ”Can’t rightly recommend any of the ‘paths’, as none of them ever appealed to me. The basics were solid enough for me, up-front and no mystical foolishness, so I stayed with that. Plus, learning to master them ain’t near as easy as what I teach. That’s why most quit the class before they get very far.”

“So I gather there are at least three master teachers — one for each of the three paths — are there any others besides?”

“Yep, there are a rare few of them out there that have even become grand masters, and are rumored to have taken their skills to almost supernatural levels.” Taggart shrugged. “But I’ve never met one.”

Niko met the old man’s eyes with an earnest look, “Will you train me? I’d like to swear I’ll see it through to the end, but I’m not going to make promises I might not be able to keep. I will promise you, though, that I’ll give it my best effort.”

Taggart’s eyes bored into Niko’s own, evaluating. “Well, at least you ain’t trying to convince me you’ll be a master, or grandmaster, or some such nonsense like most of ‘em do.” He tapped his pipe on the side of the fireplace to empty the dottle, ”I guess maybe I have one more round of training left in me. Here, lean forward a bit.” Niko complied, and Taggart gripped his head with both hands, palms over his temples, and closed his eyes. Niko was suddenly overwhelmed as pictures, feelings, and knowledge flooded haphazardly into his brain. Taggart released his head, and Niko collapsed to the floor, sick and dizzy, as his mind tried to assimilate all that he had been given. Slowly, slowly, it all began to coalesce into a primary understanding of the martial arts. There was no specific fighting style, like kung fu or taekwondo, but rather an essential awareness of the most basic principles involved. A pop-up flashed before Niko’s eyes.

Congratulations! You have gained the class skill ‘Basic Martial Arts,’ Rank 1.

Niko dismissed the message and whispered,”Wow, just like in the Matrix!”

“Huh… heard that before. What’s this ‘Matrix’?”

“Um, hard to explain. It’s kind of a play back in the country I come from.”

“Hmph! Well, whatever. Let’s go out back and see what you learned.” Taggart got up and led Niko out a back door, which opened onto a small fenced yard. There were several wooden posts, wrapped around with thick, coarse rope, buried upright in the ground scattered around the area. A scarecrow-looking stuffed bag, which Niko assumed was a training dummy, hung from a rack over to one side, and several different large stones littered the yard. Taggart strode out to the center of the yard and turned to watch as Niko wrapped his hands.

He gave a short nod of approval, “Smart, protect those hands. Ok boy, show me that I haven’t wasted my time.” He took up a relaxed stance, one foot slightly back and hands splayed out by his sides. Niko closed his eyes, trying to embrace all that he had just learned, then opened them and launched an attack. He threw a quick flurry of punches, and followed up with a spinning back kick aimed at Taggart’s head. Taggart effortlessly brushed those attacks aside, and counterattacked with rapid-fire strikes with fists and feet, which Niko blocked only with some difficulty — if at all. Back and forth, they moved about the yard, dodging obstacles as they dodged one another, charging and parrying, attacking and countering, until Niko was panting hard from exertion and dripping sweat — and a little blood. Taggart stepped back and stood with arms akimbo. He wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Not bad. You’re slower than steam off cold cow shit, but you do have the general idea. Keep training, work on your speed — a lot! — and you might just stand a chance.” Taggart smiled, ”That’s five gold, boy.” He held out a hand.

Niko wiped sweat from his face with a grimy sleeve and gave a lopsided grin as he dug the coins out of a belt pouch, ”Nothing in life is free.” Niko dropped the coins in the outstretched hand and smiled, ”Thanks for taking a chance on me.”

Taggart grunted as he pocketed the money, ”I just hope ya see it through. Be nice to know at least one of the yahoos I trained did something with it.” He flipped a gold coin to back to Niko, ”But go get a bath and some new clothes. You smell like a goat’s ass, and look worse!”

Niko looked sheepishly down at himself, smiled, and held a hand out to the old man, who shook it in a firm grip. "Thank you, sir, I'll try to make you proud." He turned and made his way out of the yard, heading back to town.

"Y’know boy, I do believe you will," the old man said quietly to himself.