Nate strode down the wide, abandoned avenue, eerily quiet due to the hour, with the confidence and bravado of a man sure in his course. It was a false bravado, but he didn’t think that would be obvious to most. He had run enough scams in his time to know how to school his face and body to hide his jangling nerves. He just hoped he wouldn’t encounter anyone tonight perceptive enough to see through him. For all he knew, there was even a skill for that.

  There is, Trini chimed helpfully in his mind. But it is unlikely anyone in the starter zone would possess something like that.

  Nate sighed. Trini had been speaking to him more and more, and he was finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her. He was also starting to realize just how stupid ignoring her was. Trini seemed to know much of this world, and she also seemed to eager to share it. The time was fast approaching when he needed to stop being so stubborn and actually take the full measure of his new creepy sidekick.

  If we make it through tonight, you and I should have a chat, Nate thought, knowing from experience that Trini would be able to somehow hear his internal monologue.

  Yes. You must stop being so stubborn, she answered. Nate didn’t reply to that. The comment rankled more than it should, mostly because Nate had been hearing some variation of it most of his life. But that didn’t mean Trini was wrong. But it was a problem for later. He had other concerns to concentrate on at the moment.

  Nate’s earlier excursions to the Clear Eyes compound and the Burning Brand controlled docks had taken longer than anticipated, and it was well and truly the dead of night. The moon, so bright earlier, was currently hidden behind clouds, yet Nate could still see the outlines of the buildings around him perfectly clearly. It was his new Darkvision, he had realized on the walk over. Most of the skills he had acquired were passive, and so he tended to forget they existed. If he focused his attention, though, he was subtly aware of several. Even now, despite the fact that he was still largely on unfamiliar terrain, he knew instinctively which way he needed to go to get back to the Traveler’s Retreat, as well as how to make his way to the docks, the Clear Eyes compound, or any of the other places he had visited so far. His Improved Sense of Direction, chosen out of desperation back in the ravine, was surprisingly useful.

  Like Trini, Nate’s growing list of skills was another topic he needed to explore more fully. Tonight’s mission had been the clearest purpose he had set his mind to since arriving in Farandway, and the necessary focus was bringing into stark release just how aimless he had been up to this point. Maybe it was his nature. Maybe it was that the whole teleported across the galaxy into some fucked up version of a Medieval theme park had been more of a shock to the system than he had realized. Whatever it was, some of the fog that Nate hadn’t consciously realized was clouding his thoughts was lifting. It was good, he supposed. He needed his wits about him. But it was also bad. It was easier to function here if he treated it like a game, like all the other people around him weren’t real. If he accepted the reality of his situation, he would have to give more thought to pesky things like consequences. He’d never been a big fan of consequences.

  “What do you want?” a voice called from above. Nate came back to the present with a jolt, finding he had arrived at his destination.

  Head in the game, he scolded himself.

  “I’m Nate Sutton. I need to talk to someone in charge,” Nate called back, trying to recapture his mask of self-assurance.

  Nate scanned the wide gates in front of him before taking in the twenty feet of smooth wall that encased the entryway. He was incredibly glad that the plan didn’t require him to try sneaking into Omen’s compound. There was no way he could have pulled that off.

  Standing on the wall above him were two guards, both in heavy armor and carrying crossbows. The weapons were trained on Nate’s chest, making his skin crawl.

  “You say that like someone here should care,” the same guard who had spoken before called gruffly. With his Darkvision, Nate had no trouble making out the human man’s scraggily beard and narrow eyes. “If you want to apply for membership, come back tomorrow.”

  Nate’s gaze lingered on the guard and his equally craggy companion for a heartbeat before his Identify skill activated.

  He was a bit surprised that one of the guards had a level low enough for him to read. Practice had shown that he could only see the class and level of people up to three levels above him, though Nate didn’t know if that was a fixed number or if it scaled by level.

  “I’m not here to join. I have important information for the leaders of Omen, and it can’t wait for tomorrow,” Nate yelled, trying to sound urgent.

  “Sure, you do,” the guard scoffed. “You look like a very important man, after all.”

  “You don’t have to believe me,” Nate said. He’d expected this, and he was prepared. “If you don’t think your bosses would be interested that one of the other Factions is planning to attack Omen, I can just go away. Of course, when the attack comes and you aren’t prepared, those bosses might want to know why they didn’t receive my warning.”

  The guard who had been speaking up until now snorted in derision, but the other guard’s posture shifted. He leaned over and muttered to something to his companion.

  “It’s bullshit,” the first guard rumbled. “Look at his gear. He’s a nothing. What could he know?”

  “We should at least take him to the Captain,” the other guard said in a surprisingly high voice, loud enough for Nate to hear this time. “With everything that’s happening, its better safe than sorry.”

  The two guards whispered for another moment, then they stared down at Nate for a long moment. Finally, the first guard shrugged.

  “Fine. But you’re going have to be the one to go wake up the Captain,” the first guard relented.

  It took a few minutes before the heavy gates groaned aside. Nate strode in, trying to quiet the nervous pang in his guts. This was the trickiest part of the whole night. The timing needed to be perfect.

  I will warn you when it is time, Trini said. This was another thing the spider had confidently proclaimed she could do. Nate had no choice but to trust her.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Passing under the massive wall, Nate was greeted by the sight of a large, well-organized courtyard surrounded by tall buildings. Despite the hour, dozens of fighters were visible, some of them even training in some kind of arena just visible off the main square. It was immediately apparent that Omen did things differently. Their members were all well-equipped, and they carried the aura of hard-edged, dangerous people. They were also diverse. While the guards on the wall had been humans, humans made up less than half of the people he could see in the courtyard. There were elves, dwarves, and a half-dozen other races that Nate hadn’t seen before, but that he quickly scanned with his identify. Dwelkings, Kobolds, Clarions, Geomancers. There wasn’t a single orc, though.

  Nate was quickly surrounded by hard-faced guards, but he didn’t let them see him sweat. No one spoke, but the quiet didn’t have time to stretch into awkwardness. It was only a few moments before a woman who was clearly in charge emerged. She was tall and lithe, with long silver hair that stretched to the middle of her back. Her armor was sleek, dark leather, and there was a finely carved bow slung over her back.

  I really need to do something about that identify skill, Nate thought irritably.

  Be patient. It will be taken care of soon, Trini answered.

  Nate didn’t have time to engage with that, as the tall archer approached him.

  “This had better be interesting, stranger. I was having a wonderful dream,” the woman said as she stopped a few arms lengths away, her voice smooth and oddly musical. She didn’t look like she had just awoken. Her features were sharp, and her eyes were clear.

  “Are you in charge here?” Nate asked, pleased to hear his voice was steady.

  “I am Captain Nyla, and this is my watch. That makes me a god, as far as you’re concerned,” she answered.

  Nate had been hoping to force his way through to speak with someone high up the chain of command at Omen. But he abandoned that plan immediately. Captain Nyla carried herself with a confidence that spoke of someone used to being taken seriously, and he could read the body language of the other Omen members pressed in around him. This was a person they respected. He could also feel the strange discomfort he had learned to associate with being in the presence of someone at a significantly higher power level than himself. Captain Nyla was not a person to be taken lightly.

  “Well, Captain, I came here tonight because I have a warning for you. The Clear Eyes Faction is planning an attack on you.”

  For a long moment, silence reigned in the courtyard. When the silence broke, it wasn’t what Nate expected.

  “Ha!” a high-pitched shout came from somewhere in the crowd of guards. As though this exclamation had broken some kind of spell, the rest of the group instantly fell into raucous laughter.

  The only person not laughing was Captain Nyla. But she did not look impressed. Her gracefully arched eyebrow spoke of obvious skepticism.

  “The Clear Eyes, you say? That is surprising,” the dark elf said, a hint of mockery in her voice. “After all, we have a standing arrangement with the Clear Eyes. It would also be tantamount to suicide for them to start a conflict with us. Tell me, why would they do that?”

  “Because they hope to gain possession of the Jewel of Farandway that Omen currently holds.”

  At Nate’s words, the mood in the courtyard shifted. The laughter died away in an instant, replaced with a cold tension.

  Again, Nyla seemed least effected. She only sighed.

  “I would ask how you know about that, but word has spread throughout Dawn,” Nyla said. “I can certainly believe that the Clear Eyes want it, though I doubt they would have any idea of what to do with it. But, while they may be barely competent, their leaders are not stupid. They would never attack us for it.”

  “Not directly, no. Their plan is a bit more complicated than that. They are hoping to provoke the Burning Brand into declaring open hostilities with you. Then, after the two of you have exhausted each other, they will step in and sweep up the pieces,” Nate said.

  At this, Captain Nyla did respond. Her gaze sharpened, and she leaned in a bit closer. The rest of the group seemed unsure what to think of this news.

  “An interesting notion, and more circumspect than I would normally credit the Clear Eyes for. But how would they accomplish something like that, I wonder?” she asked, dangerously casual.

  “They are going to launch an assault on the docks. Tonight. And they will do it in a way that only one of the other Factions could.”

  “And what would that look like?” she asked.

  “I don’t know the details. I just know that they are going to use something, something destructive that only the Factions have access to. They are counting on the Burning Brand to assume that the Clear Eyes are too weak to be the ones responsible. Leaving only Omen as a possible suspect.”

  There was confusing muttering around Nate. It was obvious that most of those present couldn’t think of anything that would match Nate’s description. But Captain Nyla’s eyes had narrowed.

  “You seem remarkably well informed, Rogue. I have to wonder how you came by this information. And why you would choose to share it with us.”

  “The how I won’t tell you. I have my sources, but revealing too much would put them at risk,” Nate said. This part was a gamble. He couldn’t easily explain how such secrets would have fallen into his hands. But he was hoping that the chaos that would kick off soon would push his opaque explanations from Nyla’s mind, at least for a while. “As for why, it’s because I hope to benefit, obviously.”

  “I see. You are hoping for some kind of reward. For a rumor without evidence? A story you could easily be inventing?” The Captain’s words were sharp, and Nate felt a prickling sense of danger on the back of his neck.

  “I’ve found myself on the outs with the Burning Brand. Or some of its members, anyway. It’s almost gotten me killed once already. I’m hoping that, by helping Omen, I might be able to earn some measure of protection,” Nate said, ignoring her half-accusation that he was lying.

  Nyla opened her mouth, preparing to ask him another question. But she was cut off by an exclamation from the crowd.

  “Holy shit. That’s him! He’s the Rogue that fought that orc at the celebration for the newly arrived Travelers!”

  Again, the crowd fell into muttering, but it lasted only a second. The Captain’s sharp eyes turned to the group, who instantly fell silent. She turned back to Nate.

  “I heard something about that,” she said. She was studying Nate, clearly unsure what to think of him. “And you say this is supposed to happen tonight? How will I know if you are lying?”

  “From what I picked up, it should be pretty obvious when it happens,” Nate answered. He was nervous, though. This had all gone much faster than he’d thought it would. He had no good way to communicate with Christophe, who was supposed to trigger the “attack” on the docks. They had agreed that Christophe would wait for twenty minutes after Nate entered the Omen compound before kicking things off. It had barely been five so far. Nate was going to have to think of some way to stall.

  Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, he wasn’t forced to stretch his creativity. Someone else intervened.

  “Test him.”

  It was a dry, grating voice, like snake scales on stone. Captain Nyla started, and a wave seemed to pass through the assembled guards. As one they all turned, including Nate.

  At the edge of the clearing stood a tall elf. Nate didn’t even need to identify him. He had the same long, silvery hair and pallid skin as Nyla, though he wore no armor or weapons that Nate could see. Instead, he was dressed in robes of shining silk in a deep crimson. His eyes were the same crimson red, burning in his face like hot coals.

  “Lord Omal,” Nyla said, giving a stiff bow. “I apologize if the commotion disturbed you.”

  “Test him,” Omal said again. There was no interest or inflection in his voice. Yet it was clearly a command.

  “Of course, Lord Omal,” Nyla answered, asking no questions. Omal did not speak again, nor did he acknowledge Nyla’s words. He turned and strode into the nearest building, his long strides taking him from sight in moments.

  Captain Nyla let out of a sigh of something like relief. Then she turned to Nate.

  “You must carry some impressive luck,” she said to him with a grin, though it was all teeth. “If Lord Omal thought you were lying, he would have just told me to kill you. If he wants you tested, there is a small chance you might leave here in one piece tonight.”

  “Test? What kind of test?” Nate asked. This was not part of the plan.

  “You claim you want our protection. But Omen does not help those that cannot help themselves. Lord Omal despises weakness. So, you will be given a test. If you pass, we will speak more, and you will have the chance to convince me that you should be believed.”

  “And if I fail?” Nate asked.

  “Then you will be dead. Makes my job easy,” Nyla said.

  Nate swallowed hard. No. This was definitely not part of the plan.

  “What kind of test is it?” he asked.

  “Combat.”