Much to his relief, he found a handful of crimson crows waiting for him on the other side of the final gate, one furtively looking all around before dropping a tiny silver key Eric made quick use of, finding himself in a rickety shed on a tiny farm a short distance from Freetown.

…. cawed the crow now perched on his shoulder.

Eric smirked, pointing to his ear, not having heard a word.

Morlekai has accepted party invite!

“You’re something else, you know that?”

Eric nodded, quickly eyeing the wooden floorboards which thankfully, though perhaps not surprisingly, didn’t creek a bit as he carefully slipped through the front door after adjusting the throw rug under the table and chairs that made up the only furniture in the shack, all conveniently disguising the trap door.

He then took a deep breath of crisp autumn air that tasted of snow and the perils of wild faerie powers, only then daring to look back at the walled city that even now sported a localized howling thunderstorm.

“Would you believe I’m just as stunned as you are?”

Eric could sense his friend’s snort. “So you just now found out that your mother moonlights as the faerie queen of winter, and you were carrying Half a trillion credits worth of gold?”

Eric blinked. “Actually… I had no idea how much gold I was carrying. Half a trillion? Are you sure? That seems kind of screaming off-the-wall outrageous.”

The crow’s beak tilted thoughtfully. “Half a trillion or maybe a hell of a lot more. It was a fucking mountain of gold, Eric. The looks the Bronze troopers were trading, underneath their visors, said it all. Even they were blown away, Eric. And they’ve managed to do what only the most elite among us can only hope we’ll be able to achieve. And you’re willing to risk it all on a perilous quest for our master? Because Eric, you sure as hell don’t need the coin. Not now. Not ever again. Why the hell aren’t you embracing the dream of retiring to some exotic resort world with a dozen savvy ladies at your beck and call and I’m guessing any number of arcane libraries sure to put you on the fast track for a sweet, sweet class?”

Eric flashed a smile. This much he knew he could reveal.

“Because the minute I leave Earth behind, I can never come back. And there are titles to be had here, my friend. Titles… and other paths to power, if you know where to look.”

The crow fixed him with an oddly intent stare. “Power that’s allowed you to boost yourself to level 30 status, at least, putting you on par with most, if not all of the elites calling themselves guild-heads, while still being nothing more than a 9th level Basic Conscript?”

Eric flashed a hungry smile, denying nothing.

The crow snorted, ruffling his feathers, doing a quick scan with crimson eyes. “Alright, Boyscout. I think we’re clear for the moment. There’s nothing but plains, wild animals, and abandoned buildings between here and the rift. We’re going to have to go low and slow for the next couple of days, crouching below grass height, depending on how long a certain snow queen thinks she can get away with haunting the area before she violates the… Eric! What the hell are you doing?”

The crow squawked, and Eric couldn’t completely hold back a smile as his quiet stealthy walk became a loping stride when it was clear that neither humanoid nor predator were nearby as they slipped free of the farmstead and headed to what had once been an interstate highway and was now a relatively flat strip of grassland with rusted humps of what Eric was certain had once been cars, now covered with lush purple-tinted foliage he sensed was very good at decomposing plastics and rubbers of all sorts, the pride of the automotive industry reduced to humps of rust, ooze, and surprisingly vibrant looking mounts of shrubbery. Even if their winter blossoms did smell like rust mixed with rose water.

Yet as soon as he hit the road now covered in a thin layer of topsoil and grass waving in the gentle autumn breeze, his loping stride turned to a furious ground-eating sprint, javelins and polearm pointing into the wind he generated, and not slowing him down at all.

It was all Eric could do not to laugh for joy as he felt the wind of his momentum whipping across his face as a thousand twinkling stars and a vast brilliant moon high overhead lit his path through countless miles of near abandoned terrain, Eric racing through the night on wings of exhilaration and dream.

“Eric, just how fast are you going?!?”

“A hair under fifty. Usain’s top speed. Only I can keep it up for a hell of a lot longer than a couple seconds into a 400 meter dash.”

“How…?”

“36 Vitality, 38 Quickness, and a Strength that I never could round up, because too much happened too fast and I will always have this dick 91% hanging out next to it.”

The crow snorted. “How you suffer, Boyscout.” The bird gave a mocking sigh as the scenery raced past them. “Honestly, I don’t know how you get up in the morning with such tragic notes to your life.”

Eric smirked. “That’s okay. The 48 next to that 91% kinda makes up for it.”

Crow gazed at him thoughtfully. “A few of the Guild elite are quicker. But they sure as hell lack your Strength. And the handful that are stronger… are most definitely specialized to wear inch thick plates that really do leave them pretty much invulnerable, like living tanks, with a 20 Quickness allowing them to pulpify almost anything with massive mauls made of hyper-dense alloys.”

Eric nodded. “And I won’t knock their style for a second. They evolved and adapted to whatever allows them to best survive the dungeons they specialize in. More power to them.”

The crow snorted. “And if they put more than a handful of points in Finesse, so eager to hyper specialize, I’d be amazed.”

Eric chuckled. “And there, interestingly enough, is where I truly shine.”

The crow blinked. “Really? I can see Quickness being the one go-to stat… but Finesse?”

Eric shrugged, though only slightly, lest it wreck his stride. “You’re acting like I had a choice. Most of my stat boosts there were from Titles earned, and evolving my weapon skills. Breaking through to Journeyman, and from there, Adept Tier if you can manage it, are thresholds for sweet, sweet point gains.”

The crow nodded. “Good point. And I’ll bet that Strength / Finesse combo is great for ranged combat.”

Eric grinned. “You’re damn right it is. And speaking of ranged combat...” Eric seized the moment, embracing his sudden whim as if his life really did depend upon it, wasting only a second to juggle his javelins and bardiche such that a single pilum was in his right hand as he cocked his arm back and used his momentum to aid him in whipping his body around, his arm snapping forward and sending his javelin soaring into the air in a shallow arc that landed just a few feet from the trunk of a massive oak tree a hundred or so yards away.

He frowned. “Damn.”

Morlekai snorted. “Really? First time you ever used that particular pilum since you purchased it yesterday, and you hurled it a hundred yards, only missing the trunk by a few feet.”

Eric frowned at the crow smirking on his shoulder. “That’s a living tree. An elder oak that you and I both know didn’t exist a year ago. It’s practically radiating spiritual energies enriching the land a good hundred yards in every direction. Why the hell would I hit it? I’m not an ass, Morlekai.”

The crow blinked. “Wait, you can sense… never mind. You’re an elf. Of course you can.”

Eric shook his head and sighed, but otherwise remained silent. Because really, what could he say to that?

“So, what were you aiming for?”

By way of answer, Eric cast a second, and then his third javelin, his furrowed brow making it clear that none had hit his mark, but at least he felt worthy of a tiny nod of satisfaction at the end. “Better.”

“What the hell are you aiming at, Eric?” Asked an increasingly peeved crow.

Eric smirked. “Dinner. You know I haven’t really eaten anything save a cup of hot cacao for almost a day, right?”

His friend bobbed his beak. “I thought you were an arrogant idiot, missing the dinner we had prepared partially in your honor, and a chance to befriend and get to know my master. But now all I feel is grateful. You truly saved our collective asses, Boyscout. And that’s something we’ll never forget.”

Eric smirked, patting the crows head, laughing at the ruffled feathers this earned as he retrieved his javelins. “No problem. Those fuckers tried to screw me over once before. I was happy to protect my friends and return the favor.”

The crow cawed. “And the look on that obnoxious Squiglepuse’s face, the way his eyes bulged when you cavalierly dropped a ton of gold at his feet with that shit-eating grin of yours. You even had the gall to wink, after he tried to have you killed!”

Eric flashed a hard smile, before letting his javelins fly once more. “Yeah, I had very little pity after that maneuver. Not even mentioning the avaricious glee he oozed when he thought we were just a few tears away from a slave collar. And when whatever passes for a goblin counsel gets through with him, I get the feeling a quick assassination won’t even be an option for him.”

Morlekai laughed. “I think you’re right.” He then tilted his beak thoughtfully. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”

“What?… YES! Got the fucker!” Eric proudly held up a nasty scaled abomination that looked like a cross between a goblin and a lizard. Which wasn’t saying much, since goblins already looked like a cross between mangy dogs and the scaly gremlins right out of one of the campiest movies he had ever seen.

The bird on his shoulder made retching sounds. “What the hell is that?”

“Not sure,” Eric shrugged. “Looks like a goblin did unmentionable things with an alligator and a mutated bat. But it pinged as red on my Dominion Interface the moment I caught sight of its heat signature, and it has the words ‘Goblinoid Scout.’ blinking over it.”

“Those little fuckers are spying on you. Wouldn’t be at all surprised if they’re now working for your mother.”

Eric snorted. “Somehow I seriously doubt that. But between you and me? I’m guessing they’ve got some ugly surprises in store for me, and I have no doubt that I’m number one on their kill list. Because underneath their simpering mercantile smiles, they’re even more vindictive and spite-filled than the orcs are.”

“Really,” Morlekai said dryly. “I would never have guessed.”

Eric smirked. “Yup. They cackle with masterbatory glee at the very thought of having us all in chains, and they’re just clever enough to specialize in usurious loans and manipulative contracts to try to force that outcome, gleeful using the law, or a twisted contractual version of the law, as their weapon of choice, as opposed to brute-forcing genocidal conquest like the orcs. But at the end of the day, they’re sadistic little shits. And they don’t really do a good job of hiding it.

“Even the lawyers of Freetown are all in their pocket, all of them knowing not to let the goblins lose any dispute, or they or their loved ones will pay. And assholes with that much intimidation factor have to have something to back it up. And considering the hit they were at least responsible for catalyzing if not outright orchestrating this morning, I’d be an idiot not to expect the worst.”

Eric flashed an ice-cold smile, before quickly taking off his tactical pack, unfastening his axe shovel survival tool and digging a quick ditch to hide the body in it before brushing himself off, re-securing his gear and jogging back to the road, continuing his loping stride. “Thing looked completely inedible. Now let’s just hope that the fact that I can run at close to 50 MPH for hours on end throws their attempts to ambush me completely off. Because I’ve had enough fucking ambushes, both physical or legal, for one damned day.”

Morlekai gave a rueful shake of his beak. “And I didn’t see any sign of trouble at all. And I’m a natural predator in this shape.”

Eric nodded, lazily shifting the weapons in his hands before he abruptly spun around and sent a javelin flying in a tight, near straight-line arc through the grass that ended in a sudden squeal.

You have critically struck Surprised Goblinoid Scout!

Goblinoid Scout has perished.

Experience Earned!

Javelin Throwing is now Rank 5!

You have spotted six additional Goblinoid scouts.

Infravision is now Rank 14! You can now sense your foes hiding in the grass as if they had no cover at all!

Eric hissed at the Interface messages absorbed in the literal blink of an eye, his growing sense of adventure morphing into fear.

He recalled all too well the look in Administrator Squiglepuse’s eyes when when the bastard had whispered for his henchman, a foe Eric never did see, to take him out. Because beneath the goblins’ almost childlike hate and absurd foolishness lay the minds of psychopathic predators who delighted in breaking their foes.

He’d be a fool to so casually dismiss foes able to field assassins he had needed Bronze tier assistance to bring down.

Because it wasn’t just one or two mutated lizard scouts… he now had half a dozen all keeping pace with him.

He had been tagged, somehow, and he was almost certain that enemies far more potent than low level hounds were closing in.

“Morlekai, we got trouble.”

The crow’s ruffled feathers and snarky commentary froze to a hawk-like intensity. “Explain.”

“We now got a full half dozen of those things tailing us. And as much as I loved mocking those little fucks, an assassin so well cloaked that I couldn’t spot him for the life of me almost killed me, and no lawyer in all of Freetown dares say anything they don’t approve of. Bottom line is we humiliated those little fucks, and with Caliban and I finessing what will be the only competing bank on all of Earth… I have no doubt that those fuckers want to send the entire world a message. We either play by their fixed rules, or they’ll throw all the rules out, and happily see us all drown in blood.”

The bird’s crimson eyes flashed, Eric sensing the crow’s outrage being nearly a match for his own.

It would be so easy to give in to panic at that moment, but Eric refused.

Instead, he coldly eyed the field all around him, made note of his enemies’ locations, and focused on releasing his payloads of death as gracefully as he could.

You have critically struck Goblinoid Scout!

You have missed Goblinoid Scout.

Goblinoid Scout has been fatally struck!

One by one, he took out his enemy’s spies, even if it did him down.

He made sure each and every javelin throw counted, doing his his best to account for his opponent’s trajectory and the rustling grass, all while refusing to let his growing anxiety of enemies surely closing in as he slowed so drastically affect his focus, while keeping his now once-more unclogged ears alert for trouble, after Morlekai made it clear he no longer heard any trace of Aurelia’s singing at all.

It was nerve-wracking as seconds bled into minutes ,and he missed far too many times.

But after slowing down for far longer than he should have, at least he could take bleak solace that the scouts hounding him were dead.

The ones he could detect, anyway.

A thought that spurred him to new speeds as he and Morlekai made their way as fast as he comfortably could for the closest of the unpredictable rifts open to all adventurers, just a handful of miles away.

Only when Eric sensed no reads at all nearby did he do what he feared he had already put off for far too long.

E - Caliban! The Goblins are now playing hardball!

E – I Repeat, they are not holding back.

E - You know they had an assassin at the meeting that was so high level that I couldn’t pierce his cloaking at all, right? None of us did. Not until Administrator Asshole gave them the kill orders to take me out from behind.

Eric waited for long anxious moments before getting a reply.

C - I thought it was understood that we don’t even mention any irregularities, lest it be used against us?

Eric flashed a bleak smile, for all that his friend couldn’t see it. Because of course Goblin logic would allow their own contracts to be voided thanks to foul play they themselves had caused. Unbidden, Caliban quickly followed up.

C - Congratulations. You are, as of this moment, a 50% Shareholder of Blue Corp Galactic Bank’s Terran Branch. Our claim has just been recognized and green lighted by the Galactic Banking Federation, and there isn’t a thing our competitors can do about it.

C - Now please do your best to stay alive, and away from a certain third party. I’d far rather have you as a business partner than her. - P.S. we’re still calculating your net worth. - This will take awhile.

Eric’s growing trepidation was momentarily abated by a fierce surge of elation.

“Yes!” he cried, before immediately shutting his mouth and focusing on his breathing as he embraced his ground-eating stride.

E - Good to hear, Cali! Now watch your back and pull whatever corporate strings you have to, to keep your badass regiment of Bronze tier mobile infantry guarding your butt at all times. And please, whatever it takes, assign a detail to Rica and her friends as well.

Eric didn’t receive another message for long moments that he spent eyeing the surrounding terrain like a hawk, all too easily able to imagine a sniper drawing a bead on the base of his spine, and glad as hell he had infused every bit of essence and potency into his armor that his Adept tier perk allowed, before finally making his dash to freedom.

Not that that would save him from having his spine crushed by a high caliber projectile. But at least it was something.

C - Done. Now tell me why I am doing this?

Eric’s gaze narrowed, thinking of the best way to say what he had to as he eyed the horizon, still expecting trouble.

E - Because this isn’t my first rodeo. Because my mother got a bit too big for her britches, once upon a time, and had some very powerful players trying to take her out. - Things didn’t end well for them, but Elonia and I nearly kicked the bucket, and then some very serious men in suits began giving us some very intensive training in countering potential kidnappers. And part of that was understanding motive.

He smirked, shaking his head.

E - Then Mother finally took off the kid gloves and taught us how obsessed domineering control freaks really thought. Point is, I can almost taste the vindictive hate those goblins ooze. And a race of manipulators happy to use rules and laws as camouflage to destroy their enemies and get the best of one another have absolutely no qualms about breaking their own rules, if it allows them to absolutely crush anyone who dared to beat them at their own game.

E - I don’t think Mother would ever work with those little shits. So the near dozen Goblinoid Scouts I just took out are definitely serving as the point men for a major hit. And the worst thing is, elite goblin assassins can cloak themselves even from me. - So I have no doubt that those slimy little assholes will do all that they can to punish you, me, and Lord Grim for daring to get the best of them, and I’d rather not have to worry about you and my girlfriend kicking the bucket while I’m trying to dodge death myself. Thanks! - P.S. if you could let Grim and my friends know to watch their back… and yeah, I’ll cover the cost of hiring some Bronze security for them too, if that’s an option. Or highest White Tier level, if it isn’t.

Eric mentally sent off his final Interface message before turning all his focus back on the grass covered road he raced along, praying that he had done enough and that the people he cared about, maybe even loved, would be okay.