“You didn’t say anything about a monster,” said the innkeeper, Bruce. With his arms crossed over his broad chest, he added, “Going to have to charge extra for that.”

Abby rolled her eyes, saying, “Come on, Bruce. We’re friends.”

“And that thing’s the size of a small pony,” the man stated, not backing down an inch. “I’m not feeding it, either.”

Zeke looked down at his companion. Indeed, Pudge had gotten quite a bit bigger since he’d found the cub in the elven ruins. Back then, he’d been the size of a mid-sized dog, but now, he was coming up on the size of a Tibetan mastiff. Soon, he’d pass through the realm of dogs altogether.

“He won’t hurt anybody,” Zeke stated, reaching down to ruffle the bear’s fur. “He’s completely tame.”

Not tame. Vicious, Pudge thought at him. Zeke couldn’t really argue with that assessment, given that he’d seen the bear ripping through monsters and goblins and happily rolling around in their entrails.

The bear’s vocabulary had improved as well. Or given that they communicated via thought, perhaps it was the connection between them that had been strengthened. Either way, Pudge could convey complex thoughts, now. On top of that, he seemed to understand far more about his surroundings than ever before.

Just play along, or we’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep, Zeke thought back. Maybe sit down and let your tongue hang out like you’re a big dog or something.

Pudge gave him a mental roll of his eyes before following along with Zeke’s suggestion.

“See?” said Abby. “He’s a pet.”

Pudge gave a mental growl at that claim, though he thankfully didn’t vocalize his disagreement. Instead, his face remained passive. Calm. He really did look like a tame bear.

“Fine,” the man said. “But like I said, it’s going to be…seven silver extra per night.”

Abby agreed to the price adjustment before they went upstairs to their shared room. It wasn’t very big, but it could just barely accommodate the two beds, a small dresser, and the young bear, who flopped down on the floor with a massive thud.

Bored, he thought at Zeke. Want to fight.

“Me too, buddy,” Zeke said aloud, kneeling beside Pudge and scratching his favorite spot. “But we’ve got a couple of days before we can leave again.”

Pudge huffed, but he didn’t send any thoughts Zeke’s way. Instead, he closed his eyes and buried his snout between his paws. If Zeke didn’t know better, he would’ve thought the young bear was asleep. But he could tell through their bond that Pudge was wide awake and ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice. Despite his casual demeanor, new places made him anxious. It would be quite some time before he settled down.

Zeke summoned a hunk of lizard tail from his spatial storage, then tossed it beside the bear. It landed with a wet, bloody plop, and he announced, “You’re going to need to stay here, Pudge. Abby and I have to go take care of some business.”

Hurry, the bear thought. Bored.

“I know, I know,” Zeke replied. Then, to Abby, he said, “Kids, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said.

That’s when Zeke remembered that his conversations with Pudge were, to an outside observer, one-sided. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “I sometimes forget that he’s talking to me in my head. Pudge has been going on and on about how bored he is. He wants to go fight.”

“Of course he does,” Abby said, shaking her head. She gave Zeke a pointed look, adding, “Just like somebody else I know. Not naming any names, mind you. Just someone big, bearded, and –”

“Can we go to the guild now? And what should I expect?” he asked, changing the subject as Pudge gnawed on the meat. The bear wasn’t hungry. He was just eating because he had nothing else to occupy his time.

Abby sat on one of the beds, saying, “Now is fine. And it shouldn’t be an issue for you. They’ll give you some sort of assignment or task, which you’ll have to complete before they judge you worthy of the guild. Most of the time, it’s geared for someone around level twelve, so you should just breeze right through it.”

“You said yours was a tournament, right?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “But they sometimes do competitions and stuff, you know? I didn’t win mine, but I showed them enough that they thought I’d be a good addition. Proved them right, too. I completed more missions than anyone under level twenty last year.”

Zeke could feel the pride wafting off of her. “How do missions work, anyway? Can you just take anything? Or what?” he asked.

“They’re split up into two groups,” she said. “There are missions intended for outer members, like me. Most of them can be completed by a group of under-twenties. Inner member missions require higher levels. You can still complete them at a lower level, but most people consider even trying to be something akin to suicide. Not that it would stop you, of course.”

“Nope,” he said, grinning. “That sounds like it’s right up my alley, to be honest.”

“Maniac,” she muttered.

To that, he shrugged and said, “Maybe I am. But fighting monsters my level feels like a massive waste of time. Leveling is so slow as it is, even when you’re killing higher-leveled monsters.”

“People actually give better experience,” she said. “You know, if you ever want to join the army and hunt bandits or something.”

“Bandits?” he asked.

She said, “Yeah – they’re mostly out west. You know, in the Red Wastes.” Seeing Zeke’s blank expression, she said, “Huge desert. It’s called the Red Wastes because there are so many battles fought out there.”

“Ah, because of the blood.”

“Bingo,” she confirmed. “There are a handful of independent settlements out there. Some of the people who live there are legitimate, but it’s mostly smugglers and bandits and the like. Sometimes, the bandit groups get a little too frisky, and either Beacon or Sanctuary sends an army out there to put them back in their places. I’ve never been in one of those battles, but I’ve heard that people can get a few levels in a single day.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Zeke said.

“What? Why? I thought you’d jump right on it, what with your insistence on leveling as quickly as possible,” she said.

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” was his reply. “The idea of killing people for experience just doesn’t sit well with me. I mean, if somebody attacks me, or if I see them hurting innocent people, I’ll step in, but just slaughtering them? Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

“But they’re bandits.”

“Yeah, sure – maybe,” Zeke said. “But according to who? I’m not saying they’re not bad people or anything. I’m just saying that, from what you’ve told me and what I’ve seen so far, I don’t know if we can trust what the people in charge tell us.”

Part of Zeke’s mistrust was rooted in a dislike of authority that stemmed from his issues with his father. However, he also strongly felt that any government that supported the kind of injustices he’d seen so far wasn’t exactly a pinnacle of virtue. Sure, there were plenty of reasons why they let their higher-leveled people run roughshod over the rest of the populace, and Zeke wasn’t so naïve that he equated that to bandits raiding caravans or settlements. But his intuition told him that there was probably a lot more to the story.

Abby responded, “Maybe you’re right. Honestly, I don’t know, and I’m not really a social crusader, you know? But either way, we don’t have to get involved if we don’t want to. It’s all volunteer stuff anyway. You should know, though, that the Crystal Spiders are supposed to be headquartered out in the Red Wastes.”

Zeke sighed, “Makes sense, I guess. Doesn’t matter, though. Oh, but we should probably try to figure out what was going on with that caravan and where they were taking the prisoners.”

“I had planned on it,” Abby said. “Chances are, it’ll take you at least a few days to complete whatever task the guild assigns, so I intend to use that time to look into things. Maybe more, considering you’ve already pissed off one of the guild elders. And the more I think about it, the more curious I am. That guy was headed to the north. Not west, to where they’re headquartered. There’s nothing in that direction but the Farindale forest, and nobody ever goes there.”

“Why?”

“I’ve talked about it before. It’s infested with undead,” she answered. “I’ve heard there’s a massive, ruined city up there, too, but like I said, people don’t go past the Harys River. The undead keep on their side, and we leave them alone.”

“Undead,” Zeke mused. “Zombies and stuff, right?”

“The lower leveled ones are zombies,” she said. “A mindless horde. But there are supposed to be a bunch of higher-leveled undead the further into the forest you go. And then the city’s supposed to be even worse. And don’t smile like that. We’re not going up there.”

“What? Why not?” Zeke said, thinking that it was kind of perfect. A horde of monsters to kill? And if they were mindless, it was even better. Not only would they fail to see the danger in front of them, but Zeke would be entirely guilt free. He didn’t exactly mind killing monsters, but he had sometimes wondered about the morality of their wholesale slaughter. With undead, he wouldn’t have to worry about that kind of thing.

“Two reasons,” she said. Holding up one finger, she continued, “First, people don’t come back from there. Ever. It’s a death trap.” She held up a second finger. “And second, undead carry a disease that will slowly turn you into one of them. I have [Cure Disease], but it’s an expensive skill. I wouldn’t be able to use it that often, and if something happened to me, you’d be out of luck. Crossing that river is asking to die.”

“Is it weird that I want to go even more, now?” Zeke asked.

“A little,” Abby said with a sigh. “Just…there are plenty of other missions that are a lot less dangerous than hitting the undead. So, let’s just take it slow until we know we can handle it, okay?”

Zeke shrugged. “Fine,” he said. “But I want to go up there eventually. And before the lower-leveled zombies are trivial.”

“Fine. I won’t stop you,” she said. “But when we go, we’re toting a real healer along with us. For now, let’s just head over to the guild. That’s the first step.”

With that decided, Abby led Zeke out of the inn and to the ramp that would lead them to the third level, where the guild’s headquarters was located. Each level sported a massive gate that, with each progressive tier, grew more ornate. When they reached the gate for the third level, Zeke marveled at the ironwork of the portcullis, which was decorated with intricate scrollwork.

“Are those runes?” Zeke asked as they passed under the twenty-foot-thick arch.

“Yeah,” she said. “And no, we’re not stopping so you can study them. The gates for the higher levels are even more detailed. I’ve heard the enchantments on the one leading to the seventh level could stop a full-on, level twenty-five Monarch-tier monster.”

It was almost as if Abby had read his mind. However, it wasn’t like he’d hidden his fascination with runes; since they’d met, he’d spent a few hours each night studying the runes that were responsible for activating [Leech Strike] or the ones on his mace. It was more than just a way to pass the time. Instead, Zeke felt that those runes were the key to comprehending the world around him. If only he could understand them better, anything was possible.

Once they passed onto the third level, Zeke couldn’t keep himself from staring a little at the opulent headquarters of the various guilds. Abby named most of them, but Zeke didn’t really care. After all, he didn’t intend to get tangled up with any of them before he moved onto the next realm. Even his decision to join The Champions of Light was based on Abby’s membership more than any actual desire to be a part of the organization.

Finally, they reached the guild headquarters, which was just as opulent and overdone as any of its neighbors. There were columns everywhere, with a very generous use of gold in the decorations. His mother would’ve called it tacky or tasteless, but Zeke interpreted the style as meaningless posturing – a declaration of their wealth and power. And while Zeke felt sure that The Champions of Light could back it up, he was reminded of something he’d once heard: the truly powerful don’t have to announce themselves. It seemed a fitting assessment of the guild’s headquarters.

After Abby identified herself to the guards by showing them her guild medallion, they passed into the interior of the building, which was just as opulent and excessive as the exterior. Expensive-looking artwork abounded, with plenty of sculptures of heroic warriors lining the walls. Zeke ignored them, an increasingly sour taste in his mouth. At first, Abby explained who each of the subjects were, but it wasn’t long before she noticed his growing ire, so after that, they traversed the halls in silence.

Finally, after a couple of minutes, the pair found their way to a pair of copper doors. They were twelve feet tall and decorated with a relief sculpture upon its surface depicting a noble warrior raising his sword to the sky. Zeke could only shake his head at the sight.

A pair of guards stood to either side of the door, both wearing silvery chainmail and white tabards with a golden, stylized sword icon emblazoned on the front. Abby flashed her medallion, saying, “New recruit.”

One of the guards glanced at Zeke, obviously using his identify skill. Then, he nodded, pushed the door open, and said, “Go ahead. Elder Einar is handling admissions this week.”

Zeke wanted to groan at the name. The very man he’d humiliated in the streets would be determining his admission to the guild? Suddenly, his chances of joining seemed a lot less likely. However, Abby didn’t seem dissuaded, leading him inside without a word. It wasn’t until she heard the huge doors shut behind her that she said, “It’s fine. There are rules in place that he has to follow. So long as you complete the task assigned to you, they have to let you in.”

“If you say so,” Zeke said, walking down the hall beside Abby. It was around forty feet from one end to the other, culminating in another, smaller pair of doors. This set was made of dark wood, but they were decorated with the same relief sculpture as the first pair.

Another guard let them through, where they found a robed man sitting behind an imposing desk made of the same dark wood. The room itself had various trophies hanging from the walls – weapons, stuffed monster heads, and various tabards dominated, but there were a scattering of more unique items. The one that most caught Zeke’s eye was a glistening, green orb sitting on a pedestal. Just below the surface, he could feel a maze of powerful runes. He identified it as soon as he got close enough.

Orb of the Deep (F) – A mysterious orb containing the soul of a powerful entity.

“Elder Einar,” Abby said with a nod at the robed man who’d risen to his feet. “I’ve brought this man to apply for membership in our guild. I vouch for him.”

Zeke didn’t miss the sharp glance that came when Einar recognized him. The older man’s eyes widened, and his hand shot to his jaw. More, Zeke could feel the mana gathering in the man’s twitching hand. The moment passed quickly, and Einar suppressed his anger and fear.

“Is that so?” he asked in the same haughty voice he’d used on the streets. With his hands on his hips, his chest thrust out, and his nose in the air, he looked like he was posing for one of the statues in the halls. Then, his eyes narrowed, and a smile spread across his face before he said, “Very well. I have the perfect task for a man like him.”