Heather and Frank followed the pair into a town that looked like it had been bombed. There were two dozen buildings all in a medieval-style lined up along winding streets. There were equally as many burned husks of buildings along the outer edge.

The streets were white stones but were littered with broken timbers and plaster from the buildings. Every structure was damaged in some way, from broken windows and doors to outright holes blasted in the walls.

“Players did all this?” Heather asked as they walked down the street.

“A group of twenty of them hit the town while a bunch of us were away,” Nanya said. “By the time we got here, the damage was done.”

“So, nobody was here to stop them?”

Nanya looked at Kerrigorn with a sad expression and then looked away.

“What’s wrong?” Heather asked.

“There were plenty of people here when they attacked, but most of the town is very low level. They were no match for the raiders.”

“So, what happened to them?”

“They were reset,” Nanya said with a hint of aggravation in her voice. “Most of them moved on to play somewhere else.”

“Oh,” Heather replied with a glance at Frank.

“But how do people adventure if they always reset?” Heather asked. “Even the best adventurer must die once in a while.”

Kerrigorn nodded at her question and glanced back with a response. “This is why almost every race can dual-class. If you have a home or a lair, you can respawn their without resetting, provided you die under the right circumstances.”

“The right circumstances?”

“Like how if I die in my graveyard, I will be fine,” Frank pointed out.

“Exactly,” Kerrigorn said. “A player who is a hero class who dies in a dungeon or on an adventure respawns at home. They loose gear and treasure but nothing else.”

“So why did they reset?” Heather asked, not following.

“Because the raiders destroyed their homes,” Nanya said with a shake of her head. “If they destroy your home location, you can't respawn to it. You have no choice but to reset. Some of these people have reset five or more times now.”

“Oh,” Heather said.

“And every time they reset, they have to start over as level one,” Kerrigorn added.

“But surely you can fight off twenty people,” Heather said. “This town must hold a hundred.”

“You overlook the base problem,” Kerrigorn replied. “Our people keep getting reset, so they are always level one. The raiders are as high as level ten. Our people never get enough experience to be even the slightest challenge to them.”

“And now people are moving away. Every time the town is attacked, less and less of the people come back,” Nanya added.

“This is why I am so far from the city,” Frank said.

Heather began to understand as the two led them around a corner into a small plaza. It had a lovely fountain in the middle with a white marble horse at its center. The horse's front legs were missing, and the head was partially smashed.

“This is awful,” Heather said. “You must have worked so hard to build all this.”

Nanya nodded and looked around as they arrived at the fountain.

“Well, if you want to shop, this is the market,” Kerrigorn said as he held up his arms. “What’s left of it.”

Heather looked around the plaza at windowless buildings with broken doors. Some people milled about sweeping trash into piles and looked up at her and Frank.

“I don’t feel comfortable being here,” Frank said.

“Not to worry,” Kerrigorn said. “The Governess is a tolerant woman.”

“We used to have a few monster players in town,” Nanya added.

“You did?” Heather asked, now very interested.

“We had a werewolf player, and Gremlin player,” Nanya said with a distant expression.

“Peezle was such a good player,” Kerrigorn said with a sad tone. “But, he got tired of being reset.”

Heather took note of the sad tone and decided not to ask. She was happy that the town so close to them was friendly but disappointed that it was dying.

“Can we go look in the shops then?” Heather asked, anxious to look around.

“By all means,” Kerrigorn said. “But let me make sure you get a decent welcome.”

Heather watched as he walked to the center of the plaza and shouted to the surrounding people.

“People of Twilightfalls, this is Heather and Frank. They have come in peace to visit our town. Please pay them the same kindness and show them peace back.”

Heather smiled at Frank, but she could see he was still nervous. She reached out and took his arm, pulling him to the closest shop. The door was missing, and the shelves smashed, but some items were gathered on the counter in the back. A tall insect looking being with a mantis-like head was in the corner, picking up fallen jars.

“Excuse me,” Heather said to get its attention

It turned around to look at her with large black eyes that looked dimpled with pits. Its body was narrow and lean with six limbs, two of which it used as legs to stand uptight.

“Ahhhh. You have come to help clean?” it said in a voice full of clicking.

Heather blinked and shook her head. “We were wondering what you sold in your shop?”

“My shop?” the insectoid asked. “Why, the sweetest of nectars from the flowers of the field. Made from the honey of the dangerous hivex bees.”

“So, you sell honey?” Heather asked, not sure what the strange man was saying.

“Honey?” he insect said, putting it's two right arms over its chest as if insulted. “No, no. Well, yes, but also more than honey. We sell nectars. You may know them wines.”

“Oh,” Heather said and looked around to see piles of bottles. “So, you make wine from the honey?”

“Wines, ales, beers, and sweet drinks,” the man said. “Though my stock is somewhat decreased at the moment.”

“Do you have anything with a fruity taste?” Heather asked.

“Fruit?” the insectoid asked with a toss of its head. “Why we have the finest sweet apple ale.”

“Oooh, I want to try one!” Heather said, excitedly.

“Didn’t you eat enough apples?” Frank asked.

Heather glanced at him and tossed her head. “This way, I don't have to drink from a stream.”

“Where did you think he got the water to make the ale?”

Heather looked from Frank to the insect creature and sighed. “We are going to look around a little more. We may come back,” she said.

“Please do, we still have plenty to sell,” he said.

Heather gave him a wave and led Frank back into the street.

The next shop sold was a two-story building that still had a door, and a second opening right next to it that was wider. This was a shop that sold candles and was run by a woman with a very narrow feline face. She had long furry ears with white tufts at the end. She still had a small assortment of candles and a few lanterns to put them in. Heather decided she wanted more lite for her tower than the windows could provide. She bought two lanterns and a dozen candles to the delight of the furry woman. They arranged to leave the items in the shop until they were ready to go home, and went back outside.

“That wasn’t very expensive,” Heather remarked as she walked down the street.

“That woman looked like she had never seen gold before,” Frank said. “I wonder if they were all robbed.”

“I can’t believe other players are so mean. Why can’t they work together?” Heather asked.

Frank glanced at her. “Some people are competitive. They want to be the highest level or the most powerful player, or have the most money.”

“So, they do it by hurting other players?”

“The game is designed for competing,” he said. “The players are only doing what is allowed.”

“You can hurt people in the real world too, that doesn’t mean it’s allowed,” Heather pointed out.

“It's just how some people are,” he said. “To them, this is all a game, and in most games, people are competing.”

“I think people should learn to work together,” she griped.

“I have a graveyard to lure people in so I can fight them,” he said. “Everything is designed to put us against one another.”

“You said you could level by having them explore your graveyard,” she reminded him.

“I can, but it's really slow. I get so much more if I fight them.”

“And kill them,” she said.

“You heard what Nanya said. So long as they have a house, they respawn and are fine.”

Heather looked around at the damaged houses. She knew Frank was right, but some players went even farther than that and ensured the other players reset. She realized this trapped them in a perpetual loop of starting over and resetting. No wonder they were beginning to move away. They probably wanted to build something impressive like frank did.

The next shop sold home items, and Heather spent twenty minutes looking around. This place was relatively untouched and run by a man who looked human in every respect except for having skin made of dark stone.

“It's called a Rokkerin,” Frank told her. “I thought about playing one. They are really strong, but they are heavy and can't swim at all.”

Heather poked through shelves full of plates, bowls, and cups. Most of it was made from wood but the shop had some metal and even some ceramic items. He also sold buckets, stools, and an assortment of brooms. She decided that she wanted some plates to eat from but needed a supply of food first. She made a note to come back to the shop and went back outside to find the sun had set.

“I forgot how late it was,” she said, looking up. “I finally have a bed, and I am miles away from it.”

“There was an inn before. Maybe they still have one,” Frank suggested.

“An inn? Like a hotel?” she asked.

“Sort of. You can usually get a place to sleep. But not all inns have private rooms. Some have a common sleeping room.”

“You mean they all sleep in one room?”

Frank nodded.

“Ewww!” she said. “I’m not sleeping in a room with a bunch of strangers.”

“You slept in my crypt,” he pointed out.

“That was private. You weren't even in the same room with me.”

“Let's just go see if they have an inn still. For all we know, they do have private rooms.”

Heather couldn't think of any reason to disagree, so she followed him as he wandered down the street. She felt terrible to see the damages to the houses and wondered why anybody would do such a thing.

Eventually, they arrived at one of the largest buildings in the town. It was three floors high with a wood shingle roof. Some of the glass on the lower level was broken, but the upper floors looked intact. As they approached the door Frank began to hesitate.

“What’s wrong now?”

“I don’t need to sleep. Maybe you should go in on your own,” he said.

“But you can sleep if you want to?”

“I suppose I can, but why would I?” he asked as he began to fidget with his fingers.

Heather looked passed him into the inn to see a warm looking room lit by a fireplace on the far wall. It had a dozen polished wooden tables with chairs spaced about the room. There were a dozen people of various descriptions sitting at the tables and to Heather's delight eating food. She could see the tiny wisp of steam coming off what looked like meats and potatoes. The more she looked, the more she wanted to go in, but Frank stepped away.

“I will wait out here,” he said.

“That’s silly,” Heather replied. “I can’t just leave you out here.”

“Nobody wants to sit down to eat and look at me,” he protested.

Heather went to argue but stopped as she looked him over. His skin was gray and rubbery, and his yellow eyes looked lifeless. His ears were tall and pointed with a jagged edge. His nose was just two slits over a mouth of fanged teeth that ran with saliva. She realized she wasn't sure she wanted to look at him while eating either, but he was her friend, and she wouldn't turn him away.

As she tried to think of a reply she notice six individuals walking up behind Frank.

“You're sure that's them?” A woman said.

“Aye, I would recognize that one anywhere,” a thick voice said.

Frank turned around to see the faces of a group of villagers frowning at them both.

“I told you I shouldn’t have come into this town,” he said.

“Oh, don't be silly,” Heather said as she stepped up. She looked at the assembled mass and immediately recognized the dwarf and bald gray skinned man she tricked into going to the graveyard.

“Oh hi!” she said with a smile and a wave of her hand.

“Your magical graveyard wasn’t so magical to see,” the gray man said as he folded his arms.

“Did you like the flowers, at least?” she asked.

“That's good enough for me,” a woman's voice said from the back. She stepped forward to regard Heather and Frank with a tender smile and glowing blue eyes. She had long white hair and soft blue skin. She wore pants, a button-down shirt, and carried a thin-bladed sword at her hip.

“So luring new players to their deaths,” the woman said with a sultry tone. “And now you come into our lair.”

“I was just trying to help Frank level up,” Heather said. “Besides, nobody really dies.”

“We both reset you callus welp,” the dwarf said.

“Why would you reset?” Heather asked.

“Neither of us had a home yet. That’s why we wanted to go to the city,” the gray man replied.

“Oh,” she replied, nodding her head.

“Well, I think returning the favor is in order,” the blue woman said.

Frank tensed and spread his fingers so that his long claws were ready to strike.

“Ha, you no match for so many,” the woman laughed. “And you won't have any true power outside your graveyard.”

“Stay away from Frank!” Heather shouted, stepping between them. “I won't let you hurt him!”

The group laughed, but Heather held her ground, staring the blue-skinned woman who put a hand to her sword and glared right back.

“And what are you going to do sorceress? You can't be more than level three, or you would be floating on a disk.”

Heather glanced at Frank, who could only give her a slight shrug.

“Let’s kill em and be done with it,” the dwarf said. “It might level some of us up. We could use that advantage if the raiders come again.”

“A single level isn’t going to matter,” the gray man said. “We need more.”

“I know we need more, but there's nothing to level off here. Those raiders keep the woods clear of monsters. We got nothing else,” the dwarf replied.

Heather listened to the banter and hatched a sudden plan. A smile spread across her face as she folded her arms over her chest.

“I have a better idea,” she said calmly.

“Your ideas are not welcome!” the dwarf argued.

“What if Frank and I could help you level up?”

The group went silent and exchanged a few glances as the blue-skinned woman leaned forward.

“Go on,” she said with a gesture of her hand.

“Your town keeps getting attacked by higher level players. Since you keep getting reset, you're all to low now to fight back. But what if you could get some levels easily.”

“And where would we do that?’ the woman asked.

Heather turned to Frank with a smile. “You can adventure in our graveyard.”

“I'm not going to that pit of horrors again!” the dwarf barked. “You won't trick me in there twice.”

Heather shook her head. “I’m not tricking you. I am telling you that our graveyard is full of skeletons you could fight to level up.”

“Aye, until you both ambush us and level off us instead.”

Heather stamped a foot and made the dwarf jump. “Frank and I won't participate. We want to make our graveyard larger, and we want the points we get from people going in. So long as you stay out of the tower or the lower tunnels, we won't fight.”

The blue woman stepped forward to stand right before Heather. “So we can level up in your graveyard, and all you want is the experience you get in return?”

“And any dead bodies,” Heather said. “So Frank can bury them. If anybody dies to the skeletons or in your village, Frank gets to bury the bodies in the graveyard.”

The woman glanced at the assembled group behind her.

“We could use a place to play,” the gray man said. “And we know that there are skeletons there, but I doubt there are enough to make it worth our while.”

“We can make the graveyard bigger if we can get a little more experience to spend,” Heather insisted.

“It would be too slow,” he said. “Once we killed the skeletons, we would have to wait hours for them to respawn. We would be raided and reset before we could gain any real experience.”

The blue woman turned back with a smile. “It would appear your offer has no real value to us.” She accentuated her point by drawing her sword.

Heather saw the problem and looked at Frank for guidance. He shook his head at her silently, but she saw no other option. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I can make them spawn faster,” she said.

“How?” the blue woman asked as she held the sword out.

Heather took one last glance and Frank and replied.

“Because I’m a necromancer.”

The blue woman smiled as the group behind her gasped and started to whisper between themselves.

“Quiet! You will all keep this a secret!” the blue woman snapped at them.

“But Moon,” the dwarf began. “You know the law.”

“I know the king does nothing to help us with the raids,” she replied with a smile. “So why should we help him?”

“She could stand the skeletons right back up,” the gray man said “We could clear it several times a day. We could all level up to three in a day or two.”

“I still don't trust em,” the dwarf said. “But what other choice do we have?”

The blue woman nodded and turned back to Heather. “It seems we have something to discuss after all.”