In the moonless darkness, Gunnar Ashwood crested the narrow peak of a rooftop and peered out at the abandoned Nighthawk safehouse. Set in the heart of a Thailen business district, the place had remained hauntingly silent the past two nights.

The city itself was eerie enough since the riots broke out. When he first heard that the Red Cloaks were abandoning their posts, Gunnar had half-expected a damn Purge to break out across the city. But the guilds of Thailen had more control over the workings of the city than he realized.

During the daytime, things carried on in an eerily normal manner. The markets didn’t miss a day of commerce, despite the debris still littering the streets. Within hours after the riots ended, the worst of it was cleaned up, and NPCs filled the streets peddling their wares. Mayhem did not run rampant. In fact, there was not a single act of violence the entire working day.

Night was a different story.

A well-known Marauders haunt was raided by a little known faction called the Hood RatZ. The capital Z was the giveaway that player-formed guilds were rising up in the city, and it was then that Gunnar understood what was truly going on. As far as he could tell, Thailen had been run up until now by guilds native to the game. Everything had run like one big starter area.

But now…

A new world had formed overnight. It was open season in Thailen, and players now had their first real shot to make a name for themselves in the realms of Pantheon. It was a cutthroat environment perfectly constructed for the prisoners who populated the beta stages of the game. Gunnar could practically feel the shifted atmosphere in his bones. Everything felt heightened and vital, and he expected this was the final stages of the pre-launch era.

The Hood RatZ gained Notoriety across the city, as a result of their successful raid—with big streaming bonuses to boot, Gunnar was sure—and they became the first guild to steal a spot off the Top Tier list.

Gunnar didn’t even know there was such a list until the notification appeared in his HUD that first night.

[The guild, Hood RatZ, has taken out a key outpost from the Marauders. They have gained +15 Notoriety! The Hood RatZ have reached Rank 5 amongst the Guilds of Thailen.]

Thailen Top Tier List

1. Silent Blades

2. House of Daggers

3. Nighthawks

4. Slumlords

5. Hood RatZ

A few hours later, a group called the Rum ’N Cloaks won a fierce battle in the streets against the Slumlords, dropping them off the list as well.

Which was why the silence of this night was so unnerving. Gunnar could not shake the sense that if his Cryptids faction weren’t the ones making moves, they’d soon become a target.

Across the street at the Nighthawk compound, there was still nothing of note.

Gunnar had grown quite perceptive to the movements and sounds of his allies, and he didn’t jump when Sheira came up behind him without warning.

“What’d you see?” he whispered.

The middle-aged dusk elf huffed as she settled in beside him, lying prostrate against the cold tiles of the roof and peering out across the street. “You’re no fun.”

“I know how you move.”

“You know, if I get bored, I’ll leave.”

“Since when is a guild war boring?”

“Since two nights of jack shit happening, that’s when.”

“Nothing going on at the Mermaid, then?” Gunnar asked.

That was where Sheira had come from. Grippa the mountain orc and Hank the Kobold were scouting the city too. They were running a little late, but no news was probably not good news for this little stakeout. Most likely they’d discovered no more than he or Sheira.

“There’s plenty going on at the Mermaid,” Sheira said. “But Sykes is smart and riding out the good will he earned with the guilds while the Red Cloaks were still here. Staying on everyone’s good side—old guilds and new. Pretty sure his posse will make a move eventually, but he’s not showing his hand yet.”

“No sign of Nighthawks?”

Gunnar was almost certain that Niall and the others had returned from Mavenport by now, but if so, they’d done it in secret. He’d had members of the Cryptids monitoring the waterfront for two days, and absolutely nothing. No signs of Niall. No signs of Leilani. Not even any signs of the other members of the Beta Squad.

And still no word from Em, either.

Gunnar feared Em might have fared as poorly as he had. Leilani knew Em was loyal to him. And her continued silence ate a hole in his gut.

Something needed to happen. And soon.

“The Nighthawks’ll turn up,” Gunnar said.

He kept saying that, but he knew they were running out of time. Leilani would be making a move on the Grand Master soon. Outside Leilani, Grand Master Faraday was the only surviving Nighthawk master—the only one she hadn’t murdered—and Gunnar had to find him before it was too late.

“Any news about Faraday?” he asked.

Sheira shook her head. “No one in the city’s talking about him. Most think the Nighthawks are a day or two away from fading out of relevance in this city.”

Gunnar doubted that. Leilani had big plans. Bigger than anyone in this city could imagine. Exactly what that looked like, Gunnar didn’t know. But he’d seen her army of monsters from another realm, and every time he’d stepped out of doors since, he half-expected a wyvern to snatch him up into oblivion.

“Leilani wants them to under-estimate the Nighthawks,” Gunnar said.

“Hank and Grippa reported the same murmurings on the streets today.”

“Well, we’re running out of time to find out,” Gunnar said.

If Gunnar couldn’t prove the Cryptids still had a future in Thailen, the Crypt Keeper would move their faction base to a safer location and leave this cesspool behind. A part of him wondered if that wouldn’t be for the best.

But if this was the end of their little pre-launch party, he wanted to go out with a bang.

The Nighthawk compound was situated on an unassuming street near the edge of the entertainment district of Thailen. On the outside, it looked like nothing more than a half-decent tenement. But the inside was filled with ornate halls, towering libraries, and the largest forge Gunnar had ever seen.

He peered through the misty darkness.

And froze.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he’d seen a shift of light on the rooftop. He pressed himself as low as he could against the tiles, and peered closer.

The roof was flat, with short A-frame peaks on either side of the building that ran along the length of the block. Gunnar was sure he’d seen something peek up from behind the nearest A-frame.

But now, he saw nothing.

Perhaps, he’d imagined it.

Sheira’s cold fingers gripped his wrist, and she directed his attention to his right. He cast Dark Sight, and glimpsed the top of a cloak.

He fired off a quick DM to Grippa and Hank.

Gunnar: We’ve got a live one!

On the other side of the A-frame, a lone Rogue stooped over something out of sight—perhaps replacing a trap door—then immediately dashed along the length of the building.

Quest Alert - Hot Pursuit

Quest Type: Uncommon

Description: You’ve finally got a clue. Maybe. It’s possible this Rogue has information vital to your continued success in this game. Or maybe they know nothing. Guess, you’ll just have to find out. If you can catch them!

Objective: Capture the Rogue and find out what they know.

Reward: Depends on if they know anything!

Do you wish to accept? Yes/No

Gunnar and Sheira glanced momentarily at one another. Gunnar had expected a stealthy retreat. Had this Rogue spotted them that quickly?

He accepted the quest, and they took off at a run along their parallel rooftop on the other side of the street. Gunnar tried to remain stooped in case the Rogue glanced their way, but it slowed him down, and their pursuant was damn quick.

He kept the Rogue in the corner of his vision, but he could see no more than a billowing cloak. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, but the Rogue moved with lithe and swift maneuvers, racing through the night.

Until the Rogue reached a narrow alley between buildings.

There was a similar alley on Gunnar’s own side of the street. Just as he spotted a narrow ladder at the edge of the roof, he saw the Rogue back up, then, sprint toward the edge.

The Rogue’s cloak drifted out behind an hourglass figure, the hood flying back to reveal braided black hair that flashed in his night vision.

A woman, then, he thought.

As if it mattered, when she could jump between buildings. She cleared the space with relative ease. Not pausing to glance back, she continued running.

Far as Gunnar could tell, she hadn’t spotted them, but they could sure use some back up.

Gunnar: Where the hell are you guys?

Still, no response.

Sheira backed up from the edge of the alley. The dusk elf sprinted and leapt across a good fifteen feet of empty space. She tucked and rolled across the roof as she landed.

The Rogue had already crossed half a block along the next row of buildings, and she was heading into more secluded parts of the city. Gunnar’s stomach churned as he backed up, suddenly wishing he’d leveled up his Leap of Faith skill more. He activated the skill nonetheless, and his body surged forward with a rush as he threw himself from the ledge.

The Rogue had leapt from peak to peak across the A-frame rooftops, but Gunnar followed Sheira’s form and angled his jump toward the slope and the flat space between peaks, so that he could jump downward. It made for a slightly longer jump, but would hopefully compensate for the lack of height in his arc.

The cool wind stung his face and threw back his hood, and the hard cobblestone street loomed below like the maw of a massive beast. As Gunnar neared, the edge of the rooftop suddenly seemed to jut up into the sky. The side of the brick building met him with an agonizing thud, and he barely managed to latch on to the edge of the roof above.

Sheira’s fingers latched on to his cloak, jerked him upward, and he scrambled over the ledge, heart pounding and fingers aching from the strain.

Up ahead, he spotted the female Rogue leaping across the next alley. She landed at a run and kept pumping. Sheira reached to help him up, but Gunnar shrugged her off.

“Go! Go! I’m slowing you down!”

Sheira said nothing. She turned and sprinted off, leaving Gunnar alone on the roof.

Hastily, he descended a ladder to the alley below, sliding down in large increments, letting his hands slide along the metal sides of the ladder and planting his feet every six or seven rungs.

He’d taken minor damage on his almost-fall. His chest ached from the impact against the brick, but his Stamina was still in good shape, thanks to some work on his Constitution attribute, and a small buff from building up his Endurance skill during his time in Pantheon Online.

He dropped the final five feet or so to the street below, and sprinted deeper into the city, sticking to the thick shadows along the sides of buildings. He’d lost sight of the Rogue, but he could still see Sheira up ahead.

She paused at the edge of a block. This time she didn’t leap to another rooftop.

Sheira: I don’t see her. Think she dropped.

Gunnar: No sign down here.

Gunnar reached the next alley, and came to a stop, glancing all around. The main thoroughfare was empty but for a stumbling drunk another block ahead. The alleys on both sides of the street were dark and vacant.

Hank: Live one is in our sights.

Before Gunnar or Sheira could respond, a notification popped up in Gunnar’s HUD.

[You have received a location marker from Grippa. Do you wish to receive directions in your MiniNav? Yes/No]

Gunnar’s body twinged with nervous anticipation.

He assented, and ran.