Morgan sat across the fire from Issa, watching her meditate. She’d gained a level and gotten a new skill called Hexing Shriek. When he asked her what it did, she had said that enemies she affected with it would feel more demoralized and suffer from reduced Energy and stamina recovery. He’d noticed that it seemed to take a while for her eyes to return to their usual bright yellow after the battle. Even when she’d dropped her Battle Chant, they’d remained dark and purple for quite a while. He wondered what effect her class was having on her. Judging by his own class, he didn’t think it was anything to worry about. He had some scary abilities, but they didn’t seem to affect him outside of their use.

After they’d beaten the two Ardeni brothers, Yan had approached them and said that he and his partner, his wife, would forfeit their position without a contest. They’d been the next in line if Morgan and Issa continued to challenge the assembled sword users. Morgan had walked over to Henk and Kell’s tent to see if they’d left any valuables, but nothing other than blankets and an old, embroidered pillow were inside the canvas dwelling. On a whim, he’d pulled out one of the tent stakes so that he could lower the canvas side enough to take the pennant from the peak. He rolled it up and stuffed it in his pouch as a memento. “What are you thinking about?” Issa asked from across the fire.

“Oh, just about that pennant I took. I suppose I’m dwelling a bit on the fact that I didn’t know those brothers weren’t real people when I slaughtered that guy.”

“Stop it. They were willing to fight, and if you hadn’t taken them seriously, real or not, they would have killed you or me if they could’ve.”

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry; I’m not going to start pulling punches when your neck is on the line with mine.”

“Good.” Issa nodded and started rooting around in her pouch, pulling out ingredients for dinner. She produced a copper pot and some raw meat wrapped in paper. She put some of the meat in the pot and then used it to shove away some of the burning logs and smooth out some of the hot coals. She set the pot onto the coals and let the meat brown, sprinkling some herbs and salt into the pot while it sizzled. While it was browning, Issa produced another paper package filled with chopped roots and vegetables. As the meat finished browning, she added some vegetables and stirred them up with the meat fat.

“Are you making stew?” Morgan’s mouth was filling with saliva at the scent.

“That’s right. We’re going to have a hard road ahead of us, challenging these others.” She gestured around at the other tents. After a few minutes, she brought out a bottle of red wine and splashed it into the pan. She took a sip of the wine and then put it away.

“Hey, what about me?”

“You want some?” Issa grinned. “I think there’s still some right here.” She pointed to her lower lip. Morgan laughed, moved around the fire to sit next to her, and kissed her on the spot where she’d pointed.

“Mmm, good wine.” He inhaled deeply of the simmering meat and vegetables, then laid back on the blanket they’d spread over the grass. Issa kept working on their meal for a while, and Morgan thought he might have dozed off when she nudged him with a bowl. He sat up and ate ravenously. The meat was rich and fatty, and the vegetables tasted a lot like carrots and potatoes. “God, that’s good.”

“Thank you! Next meal is up to you.” She winked at him, taking a big bite.

“Hmm, no problem. I packed some good sandwich fixings.” She scoffed at his response but kept eating with a smile in her eyes. When they finished eating, they spread out their bedrolls and lay awake, talking and reminiscing for a while. Issa told Morgan more about her childhood, and he did the same. She told him about helping her father in his shop after her mother died, and he tried to explain to her what movie theaters were like. She yawned after a while, and Morgan insisted that she sleep first while he sat watch. A few hours later, the sun still hanging over the western hills, Morgan woke her and took his turn sleeping. Several hours later, they were both awake and done with breakfast.

They tracked down Yan pretty easily. He seemed to be looking out for them and made himself obvious, standing on a slight rise by the edge of the road. They walked up to him, and Morgan said, “Hey, Yan. Mind showing us who’s next in line?”

“Hmm, let me think. That would be Trise and Kwilla. Those two are fast, so watch yourselves. C’mon, and I’ll point ‘em out for ya.” Yan walked over the road and pointed to the third tent in a row of three. The tent was low, really only comfortable for someone sitting or lying down. Morgan could see a pair of feet extending out from the open flap and a woman hunched in front of the fire stirring something in a pan. They walked over to the tent, and Issa cleared her throat. The woman turned and glared balefully at them. Her skin was a deep blue, much darker than Issa’s, and her dark eyes matched her spiky black hair.

“What? You wanna challenge us, huh? Suppose you think we’ll back down after what you did to those brothers? No chance. Kwilla, get up; time to fight.” A loud yawn came from the tent’s interior, and the feet stirred and were pulled in. A moment later, a thin, beautiful, but rugged-looking Ghelli came crawling out of the tent. She stood and was head and shoulders taller than Issa, even with her racial upgrades. Kwilla was deeply tanned and sported dozens of thin, white scars around her arms and face. Even her glistening wings were notched in places. She arched her back in a deep stretch and said, “Oh, if we must. C’mon then.” She turned and walked toward the road; her long legs, clad in tight leather, moved like a dancer’s over the loose rocks, scrub, and clumps of grass.

The women were both fencers, wielding rapiers similar in appearance to Issa’s. At first, they seemed to be a dangerous match for him and Issa - Morgan wasn’t as fast as they were, and Kwilla kept slipping his guard and putting pressure on Issa while she was already occupied with Trise. Once, Kwilla slid past him and aimed a deadly thrust at Issa’s Kidney. Morgan barely managed to activate Guard Ally in time, but he did, and the potentially fatal thrust skittered off his thick scale armor. In frustration, Morgan activated his Energy Drain, pulling glittering, smoky Energy lines from the two swordswomen to him. He could feel them resisting, but they were no match for his will, and he pulled with everything he had. At the same time, Issa sidestepped Trise and used her Hexing Shriek, catching both women in the cone of her shout. When Issa’s discordant echoing shriek hit them, Morgan felt resistance to his Energy Drain fall away, and he pulled even harder. Trise moaned and dropped to a knee, and Issa’s rapier caught her in the throat. “No!” Kwilla cried, dropping her sword and falling to her knees in front of Trise. “Yield!”

“You yield?” Issa yelled, pulling her rapier free and backing up. Morgan also backed off, dropping his Energy Drain.

“Yes, dammit!” Kwilla was holding Trise’s face in her hands. “Trise, hold on, Trise.” Kwilla poured a small vial of silvery liquid between Trise’s lips, clasping her hand over the gaping wound in the center of her neck. “You’re okay, Trise. You’re going to be fine.” She laid her back, and Morgan could hear Trise take a shuddering breath and cough out some blood; then Kwilla was laughing quietly and kissing Trise all over her face. “You’re okay. You’re okay.” Morgan looked at Issa and raised an eyebrow.

“Thank you for backing off,” Kwilla said, looking over her shoulder at Morgan and Issa. “I’d die a thousand times before I watched Trise die.” Morgan was about to reply when Trise and Kwilla began to shimmer, their skin and garb seeming to glow from within, and then they broke apart into a cloud of silvery motes that streamed into Morgan and Issa. After absorbing the Energy, Morgan looked and saw that the two women were gone entirely.

“What the…? I know you said you think they’re constructs of the dungeon, but they sure as hell seemed real to me.”

“Yes, they did, didn’t they?” Issa had a troubled look on her face.

“Could they just be based on real people? Maybe these are like memories of the Swordmaster?” Issa’s face unclouded a little, and she looked at Morgan with a smile.

“That sounds very plausible. I was starting to worry that other souls might be trapped in here.” Morgan's face paled a little.

“God, I didn’t even think of that. I like my idea better, though. I’d rather beat up on some old memories than on enslaved souls.”

“Well, let’s hope that’s what it is, then.”

The following two pairs of challengers forfeited their positions to Morgan and Issa without a contest. The two swordsmen in the sixth position put up a fight to the death, but they really didn’t seem very much more difficult to vanquish than the first brothers. A brother and sister were in the seventh position, and they, too, forfeited.

After that, Morgan and Issa took a break, eating sandwiches as Morgan had promised and then taking turns sleeping. Morgan was starting to think keeping watch was unnecessary - no animals ever appeared in the strange twilit valley, and the other challengers never approached their tent. Still, he knew the moment he let his guard down, something bad would probably happen.

Their next fight, for position eight, was the first one in which Morgan momentarily thought they might be in trouble. The two sisters they fought were a small race of people whom Issa called Bogoli. They wore black robes and had white-painted faces. They each wielded rapiers, but those weren’t what caused trouble for Morgan and Issa - these were the first combatants they’d faced out here that used as many spells and skills as they did. They outright resisted Issa’s attacks, and Morgan’s Energy Drain felt like it was barely taking effect. They, in turn, threw lightning bolts that burned and stunned Morgan momentarily. While he was stunned, one of the sisters managed to put two painful holes in his butt cheek and the back of his thigh. He was leaking blood like a tapped wine barrel when he finally got around one of the sister’s guard and executed a flurry of blows that she simply couldn’t stop. Once she dropped, it was only a matter of time before he and Issa wore down the other sister.

***Congratulations! You’ve achieved level 22 Vortex Duelist. You have gained 8 Intelligence, 8 Agility, 6 Will, 6 Dexterity.***

“Did you level?” He looked at Issa’s flushed face, noting she had a singed eyebrow and some of her hair had been burned shorter than the rest. He almost laughed, but he didn’t, and he thanked all the powers in the universe for that.

“No! It’s like you’re cheating with that high Energy affinity!”

“Hey, congratulations, you two.” Yan walked up the road whistling softly. “That was quite a show. You’re really moving up the line and making it shorter for those of us that were smart enough to forfeit. Nice job!”

“Thanks, Yan,” Morgan sketched a slightly mocking bow.

“Well, those sisters had a chest by their tent. It’s still there and, by rights, yours. You should check it out.” Yan smiled and hooked his thumbs in his belt, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, seemingly proud of himself. Issa grabbed Morgan’s arm in excitement and pulled him off the road toward the sisters’ tent.

“Hurry up! This is the first loot we’ve seen in this place! Imagine what it could be!” Morgan smiled and let her pull him through the partially deserted plot of tents. Presumably, their most challenging opponents were yet to come, so he hoped that the loot would be something helpful.