Jim the Groundskeeper [Original Fantasy]

[Simonbob]

Yep.

Ego's going to get them killed.

Unless Jim beats seven shades of shit out of them, and then points out he was more dangerous back then, and spent most of his time running, not fighting, and even then? They're going to think they're hard enough.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim awoke five minutes before his alarm went off. He didn't move. Didn't think much either. Over the years he'd learned something important about mornings. Thinking was dangerous. Too many thoughts led to too many reasons to stay in bed.

His back hurt. His knees hurt. His shoulder was still annoyed about yesterday's stairs. If he started making a list, he'd still be lying there at noon. So instead he simply lay still and breathed. In.

Out. In. Out. The room remained dark and quiet. The sort of silence that only existed before dawn. Then—

RATTLE. RATTLE. RATTLE. His wind-up alarm began its daily attempt to wake the dead. The obnoxious little thing rattled angrily atop the bedside table. Jim reached over, silenced it, and sat upright with a groan.

Several joints immediately voiced their opinions on the matter.

"Morning," he muttered bitterly. Nobody replied. Probably wise. He reached for the pipe he'd prepared the night before, struck a match, and lit it. The tobacco caught immediately. A warm orange glow spread through the bowl.

Jim took several slow puffs. The familiar taste settled across his tongue while the nicotine began its slow march through his body. His eyes opened a little wider. His joints felt slightly less mutinous. Civilisation had once built empires for gold. Jim reckoned they should've built them for tobacco.

Would've saved everyone a lot of trouble. He stood and pulled open the curtains. Outside the mountains remained wrapped in darkness. Only the faintest hint of dawn touched the eastern horizon. A thin band of pale silver sat beyond the distant peaks. Good.

The world wasn't awake yet. Jim liked that. People tended to ruin mornings. He stood quietly smoking for a few more minutes, watching the Bastion sleep beneath him. A handful of lanterns still glowed along the higher walls while distant watchfires flickered softly in the darkness. Then he dampened the pipe, slipped it into his pocket, and set about getting himself ready.

Half an hour later he stood alone in the main courtyard. Hands clasped behind his back. The stone beneath his boots still held the night's chill. Cold air drifted down from the surrounding mountains, crisp and clean enough to sting the lungs slightly. Above him the sky had begun its slow transformation from black to deep inky blue. The kind of colour that only existed for a few precious moments before dawn fully arrived.

The Bastion was quiet. Mostly. A few distant guards changed shifts along the walls. Somewhere far below a forge was beginning to wake. The faint ringing of metal drifted upward through the mountain air. Otherwise silence ruled the mountain.

Jim stood comfortably within it. He'd always preferred silence to conversation. Silence rarely asked stupid questions. Then movement caught his eye. Rycen. The big man entered the courtyard alone.

His boots echoed softly across the stone. He walked across the courtyard without a word and stopped roughly twenty feet away. Jim gave him a small nod. Rycen returned it. Neither spoke. Neither needed to.

Jim studied him for a moment. Slight puffiness around the eyes. Tiny delay in his focus. Been on the piss. Fair one. At least he'd shown up.

Over the next few minutes the others arrived in dribs and drabs. Some alone. Some in pairs. One still chewing the remains of breakfast. Another clutching a mug of something steaming. Yet despite the deliberately vague timing Jim had given them, every single one arrived before sunrise.

That earned a small amount of respect. Not much. But some. At the very least it meant they could follow instructions. Eventually all six agents stood waiting in the courtyard. The eastern horizon was beginning to brighten now.

A faint silver glow crept over the distant mountains. Still no Jess. Jim frowned slightly. That's unusual. He checked the shadows around the courtyard. Nothing.

No sign of her. Maybe she'd overslept. The thought amused him greatly. Then a voice drifted down from somewhere above.

"What are you waiting for?" Jim nearly jumped out of his skin. His hand twitched instinctively toward the knife at his belt. He looked up. Jess sat casually atop a deeply shadowed parapet overlooking the courtyard. One leg dangling over the edge.

Watching all of them. Perfectly relaxed. Jim stared. The agents stared. Jess stared back. How fucking long has she been there? Jim thought.

The worrying part was that he genuinely didn't know. Judging by the expressions around him, neither did anybody else. Jim cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Morning, Jess!" The woman glanced over from her perch atop the parapet. Without hesitation she stepped off. One moment she was sitting twenty feet above the courtyard. The next she was falling. Several of the agents flinched.

One actually took a step forward. Jess landed in a smooth roll, came back up onto her feet, and carried on walking as though throwing herself off battlements was a perfectly normal way to start the day. Not even slightly out of breath. Jim nodded approvingly.

"Show off." Jess ignored him.

"So," she said. "What's lesson two?" Jim smiled.

"Food." The agents exchanged confused looks.

"Food?" Rycen asked.

"Aye." Jim folded his arms.

"What food are we bringing on this little expedition then?" Jess answered first.

"The standard supplies."

"Which means?"

"Dried meats. Hard bread. Trail rations. Preserved vegetables." Jim nodded.

"Any garlic?" Jess blinked.

"No."

"Right." Jim pointed toward her.

"We're gonna need it." The agents looked even more confused.

"A lot of it."

"How much is a lot?" one of the mages asked. Jim considered. He scratched thoughtfully at his beard.

"Enough that nobody wants to sit next to ya after breakfast." A few chuckles broke out.

"In fact," Jim continued, "I recommend every one of ya starts eating a clove of garlic every day from now until we leave." Jess raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" Jim looked genuinely surprised.

"Lesson one, lass." He spread his hands.

"The ghoulies." A pause.

"The things that want to eat us." Realisation slowly spread through the group. A few grimaces followed immediately after.

"Oh."

"Aye." Jim nodded.

"Trust me. Better to smell like a kitchen than a meal."

"Vampires." That got their attention. Several of the agents straightened slightly.

"The Umber lands are bloody riddled with them." He began pacing slowly. Pipe smoke trailing behind him.

"Some hide in plain sight."

"Others stick to ruins and forests."

"Most prefer the night." His eyes moved across the group.

"But trust me when I say they're there." One of the younger agents raised a hand. The tall blond lad with blue eyes.

"Yes, Bertie?" The agent blinked.

"My name's Rioburt."

"Aye." Jim nodded.

"That's what I said." The group chuckled. Rioburt sighed. Clearly this wasn't the first time somebody had gotten his name wrong.

"We have sun lanterns," he said. "Shouldn't those be enough?"

"Good question." Jim pointed at him.

"See? Bertie's using his brain."

"Rioburt."

"Aye." Jim ignored him.

"The lanterns are a good fallback." He nodded.

"Very useful." Then his expression hardened.

"But what happens when we're hiding?" The room quieted. The humour faded almost immediately.

"What happens when we're trying not to advertise where we are?" Nobody answered. A few agents were already beginning to see where this was going.

"Can't exactly be sneaking around the forests carrying miniature suns now can we?" A few agents exchanged looks. The realisation began dawning.

"Oh."

"Aye." Jim nodded.

"Now you're getting it." He pointed toward the distant mountains beyond the walls. The peaks were beginning to glow beneath the rising sun.

"There'll be nights when we're trying to stay hidden."

"Nights when we don't want every pair of eyes in the forest knowing exactly where we are."

"Nights when lighting a lantern is the stupidest thing we could do." He folded his arms.

"So we need something else."

"Garlic." Jess sighed.

"Garlic."

"Garlic." The agents groaned collectively. One actually looked offended by the concept. Jim smiled.

"By all means, when they come for us at night—and trust me on this, they will come—we can break out the sun lanterns." His smile vanished.

"But I'd much rather have fewer vampires trying to eat us in the first place." The group nodded slowly.

"Garlic won't stop all of them."

"It won't save ya if one gets its hands on ya."

"But it makes us a less appealing meal." Jim shrugged.

"And if the choice is between twenty vampires sniffing around camp and ten vampires sniffing around camp..." He pointed toward the kitchens.

"I'd rather smell like garlic." Silence. A few of them were already mentally calculating how much garlic they were about to consume. Then Rycen sighed.

"Gods, this expedition's gonna be weird." Jim grinned.

"Lad." He looked around at all six agents.

"We ain't even started getting weird yet." A few of the newer agents immediately looked concerned.

"We got any spare iron horseshoes?" Jess blinked.

"Aye." The answer came slowly. Like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know where this conversation was heading next. Jim nodded.

"We're gonna need 'em." Several of the agents stopped writing. Pens hovered above paper. Rycen slowly looked up.

"Why?" Jim looked genuinely surprised by the question.

"Tooth fairies." Silence. The kind of silence that suggested everyone was trying to decide whether he was joking.

"Excuse me?" Rioburt asked.

"Tooth fairies," Jim repeated. He pointed with his pipe.

"Can be a right bitch over there." The room remained silent. One of the mages cautiously raised a hand.

"Are these actual fairies?"

"No."

"Good."

"They're worse." The hand immediately went back down. A few of the agents exchanged worried looks. Jess simply rubbed at her temples. For hours Jim continued working through the seemingly endless list of things they would need. Weapons.

Clothing. Boots. Rations. Camping procedures. Soap. That one had somehow become a twenty-minute argument.

"No scented soap."

"Why?"

"Because if I can smell ya from twenty feet away then so can everything else." The agent in question had looked mildly offended by that. Jim had not cared. The argument had somehow become even longer after that. By the time lunch arrived most of the team looked as though their understanding of the world had been thoroughly assaulted. Good.

That meant they were learning. A few were already making notes at a frantic pace. Others simply looked tired. Now Jim sat alone in the courtyard while the others ate. A pipe rested comfortably between his teeth while he occasionally nibbled at a clove of garlic. The Bastion bustled around him.

Agents hurried between buildings. Messengers crossed bridges high overhead. Somewhere in the distance a forge hammered away at a piece of metal with relentless determination. The rhythmic clang echoed faintly through the mountain air. Jim ignored all of it. His attention remained fixed on the small leather-bound notebook resting in his lap.

The cover was worn smooth from years of use. Corners rounded. Pages stained. The leather had darkened with age and handling until it was almost black in places. A lifetime's worth of notes crammed into something no bigger than a man's hand. Jim slowly turned another page.

The paper crackled softly beneath his fingers. The handwriting was rough. The sketches somehow rougher. A crude drawing of something with far too many limbs occupied half a page while several notes beside it simply read: Fast. Hates fire.

Don't corner it. Helpful. Jim chuckled softly to himself. Helpful had probably been optimistic. Years ago, after somehow surviving the Umber lands and stumbling back into friendly territory, his commander had ordered him to document everything he'd seen. Everything.

The creatures. The ruins. The routes. The things that hunted the night. The commander had claimed it was for military intelligence. Jim had believed him.

Mostly. The old officer had been a decent sort. One of the few who listened more than he talked. Unfortunately he'd been killed a week later before Jim ever finished the report. So the report had never been handed in. Jim had simply kept adding to it over the years.

Every rumour. Every story. Every encounter. Every nightmare. The notebook had become less of a report and more of a survival guide written by a man who didn't entirely trust his own memory. In the Umber lands, forgetting things had a habit of getting people killed.

The notebook had slowly become something else entirely. A survival guide. Or perhaps a warning. Jim turned another page. Then another. A sketch of a vampire.

A note about avoiding old wells. Several pages dedicated entirely to things not to investigate. That section was surprisingly long. Probably the longest section in the entire notebook. Footsteps approached. Jim looked up.

Jess was crossing the courtyard toward him. Immediately he knew something was wrong. The concern on her face gave it away. Jess wasn't prone to worrying. Which meant when she did worry, people generally paid attention. She stopped beside him.

Jim closed the notebook.

"The timeline's been brought forward," she said. The humour vanished from Jim's face instantly.

"How long?"

"Thirty-six hours." Jim stared at her. Then slowly removed the pipe from his mouth.

"Thirty-six?" Jess nodded.

"More intelligence has come in." Jim already disliked where this was heading.

"What kind of intelligence?" Jess folded her arms.

"The Umber Empire is aware of the Magister." A pause.

"And they're aware of the Legion." Jim swore quietly.

"Fuck."

"It gets better."

"No it doesn't."

"No." Jess sighed.

"No, it doesn't." She looked toward the mountains. The distant peaks seemed much colder suddenly.

"They've started searching too." For several seconds neither of them spoke. The bustle of the Bastion continued around them. Messengers hurried across bridges. Guards crossed the walls. Somewhere a forge hammer rang out.

None of it seemed particularly important anymore. Jim could already feel the entire mission changing shape. Before they'd been hunting a mystery. Now they were racing another force to it. And the Umber Empire had one advantage he didn't. Numbers.

Lots of them. Jim exhaled a long plume of smoke. The grey cloud drifted away on the mountain breeze.

"Fuck's sake." The words carried far more exhaustion than anger.

"That complicates things." Jess nodded.

"Aye." Jim looked down at the notebook resting in his hands. Thirty-six hours. Not enough time. Not nearly enough time. There were still lessons he wanted to teach.

Mistakes he wanted them to avoid. Stories he wanted them to hear before they crossed the border. Then again... Nothing involving the Umber lands was ever simple. Or fair. Jim stuffed the remainder of the garlic clove into his mouth.

The taste was as unpleasant as ever. Sharp. Bitter. Persistent. He chewed anyway. Surviving wasn't always glamorous.

A moment later the six agents came filtering back into the courtyard carrying mugs, half-finished meals, and various expressions of concern. A few had clearly noticed Jess's arrival. Others had simply sensed the change in mood. Jim swallowed.

"Right then, ladies and gents." The group gathered around him. Conversations died away almost immediately.

"Seems the week we had has now become a day and a half." That got their attention immediately. Several heads turned toward Jess. Nobody looked particularly pleased. One of the mages actually lowered his mug halfway to his mouth and forgot to finish the drink.

"Thought so," Jim muttered. He pointed toward the Bastion.

"Lessons are done for now." A few eyebrows rose.

"Get your kit sorted." He pointed at Rycen.

"Weapons checked." Then toward one of the mages.

"Supplies packed." Another agent.

"Any personal business dealt with." His eyes swept across the group. Making sure every one of them was paying attention.

"Because I reckon we're about to get briefed proper." Jim looked toward Jess.

"Am I right?" Jess nodded.

"Aye." The courtyard grew noticeably quieter. Reality settling in. This wasn't training anymore. This was happening. The mission had suddenly become real.

"Right then," Jim said.

"Relax while ya can." A few of them looked confused. Jim pointed toward the mountains beyond the Bastion walls. The distant peaks sat cold and silent beneath the morning sky.

"Because believe me when I say this is the last time you're getting the opportunity until the job's done." Silence. Nobody argued. Nobody laughed. Above them a figure appeared atop one of the high battlements. Lady Dalanev.

Even from this distance she somehow managed to look like she was carrying classified information. Perfect posture. Perfect composure. Perfectly intimidating. She peered down into the courtyard. Her eyes found Jess.

Then she nodded. Once. Jess looked back toward Jim.

"Well." She folded her arms.

"There was your rest and relaxation." Jim sighed.

"Shortest holiday I've ever had."

"Time to get briefed."

"Aye." The agents began gathering their things. Mugs disappeared. Notes were collected. Conversations became quieter. More focused.

Jim was about to follow Jess when he stopped.

"Oi." The group paused. Six pairs of eyes turned back toward him. Jim stood quietly for a moment. Choosing his words. The humour had vanished completely now.

Then he spoke.

"Just one thing." The courtyard fell silent. Even the sounds of the Bastion seemed distant for a moment.

"The most important thing I've taught ya so far." Nobody moved.

"Avoid fights if ya can." His voice wasn't joking now.

"I know what all of ya are." His eyes moved across the group.

"The peak of your trades." A nod toward Rycen.

"Warriors." Toward the mages.

"Battle mages." Toward the others.

"Agents." He shrugged.

"True-born heroes or whatever fancy title people like to stick on folk." A few smiles appeared. A couple looked faintly embarrassed. Jim didn't smile back.

"But what we're walking into isn't the plot of a bedtime story." The smiles faded. His voice grew quieter.

"It's a nightmare." The morning wind tugged gently at his coat. A cold breeze drifted through the courtyard carrying the scent of stone and mountain air.

"The aim of this job isn't glory." A pause.

"It isn't heroics." Another pause. The agents stood listening in complete silence.

"It isn't making songs for bards." The agents listened carefully now. Nobody looked amused anymore.

"The aim is simple." Jim folded his arms.

"Stay alive long enough to do the job." His eyes moved across the group one final time. Lingering briefly on each face. Young. Capable. Confident.

"And get home." Silence. The words hung in the cold morning air.

"That's it." Nobody laughed. Nobody joked. Good. They understood. Or at least they were beginning to.

Jim nodded once toward Jess.

"Right then." Jess stepped forward immediately.

"Briefing room." Her voice echoed across the courtyard. Sharp. Professional.

"Ten minutes." The six agents dispersed quickly. Each heading off to gather equipment and prepare themselves. Boots clicked against stone. Conversations remained brief and subdued. The excitement from earlier had faded.

Now there was purpose. Jim watched them go. For a moment neither he nor Jess spoke. The courtyard suddenly felt much larger. Much quieter. The reality of what was coming settled heavily between them.

Beyond the Bastion walls the mountains stood silent beneath the morning sky. Waiting. Finally Jim looked over.

"Shall we, lass?" Jess nodded.

"Aye." Together they turned and headed toward the briefing room. Toward the mission. Toward the Umber lands. The last traces of dawn stretched across the mountains behind them as they walked. Ahead lay stone corridors, maps, plans, and difficult decisions.

Beyond those waited something far worse.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Yo, there'll be a gap in uploads. I've just heard there won't be another Mass Effect, and due to this personally devastating news, I'll be replaying the entire trilogy while drinking.

Once I've taken Earth back and recovered emotionally, I'll post the next chapter.

 

[Simonbob]

Yo, there'll be a gap in uploads. I've just heard there won't be another Mass Effect, and due to this personally devastating news, I'll be replaying the entire trilogy while drinking.

Once I've taken Earth back and recovered emotionally, I'll post the next chapter.

Click to shrink...

Ok.

We'll see you after you mourn. And the hangover, of course.

 

[TDR]

Yo, there'll be a gap in uploads. I've just heard there won't be another Mass Effect, and due to this personally devastating news, I'll be replaying the entire trilogy while drinking.

Once I've taken Earth back and recovered emotionally, I'll post the next chapter.

Click to shrink...

Might not be the case. Couple groups are interested in getting the rights few others are looking to snatch up devs

But its EA. They prolly wont give up the name, so at best there might be a spiritual successor.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Ok.

We'll see you after you mourn. And the hangover, of course.

Click to shrink...

Ok.

We'll see you after you mourn. And the hangover, of course.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, I played it exactly the same way I always do—chose Synthesis. The hangover's still in full swing, but here's the next bit.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Might not be the case. Couple groups are interested in getting the rights few others are looking to snatch up devs

But its EA. They prolly wont give up the name, so at best there might be a spiritual successor.

Click to shrink...

Yeah, that's the bit that gives me a little hope. Even if EA sits on the name, I'd happily take a proper spiritual successor made by people who understand what made Mass Effect special. Exodus, for example—I'm really looking forward to that, and The Expanse: Osiris Reborn looks promising too.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim sat in one of the briefing room chairs while the rest of the team settled around the large stone table. The heavy wooden chairs scraped softly against the floor as people found their places. The room itself was surprisingly plain for a place where important people made important decisions. Maps covered one wall. Several lanterns hung from iron brackets. A massive table dominated the centre of the room.

The stone surface had been worn smooth by years of use. That was about it. No banners. No dramatic statues. No giant eye symbols staring at him from every available surface. Refreshing honestly.

Jim had always found important people had a worrying tendency to decorate things. Jess stood near the far wall beside the three Keepers while Lady Dalanev stepped forward to address the room.

"Good afternoon." Her gaze moved across the assembled agents. Rycen. Rioburt. The others. Finally her eyes settled briefly on Jim.

She offered a small nod and the faintest hint of a smile. Jim returned the nod. Then immediately began preparing his pipe.

"As you all know," Dalanev continued, "we have received updated intelligence." Jim pulled out his tobacco pouch. The familiar leather felt worn and comfortable in his hands.

"And unfortunately the situation has deteriorated." Not exactly surprising. He packed tobacco into the bowl.

"The Magister's movements have accelerated." Tamp.

"The Empire has become aware of the search." Tamp.

"The Steam Legion is no longer merely a rumour." Tamp.

"It is now considered a strategic concern." Jim nodded absent-mindedly. That tracked. He pulled out a match.

"You have been selected because you are among the finest operatives available to the Order." Strike. The match flared to life. Its warm orange glow briefly illuminated his face.

"You are the best combination of combat capability—" Puff.

"—survival expertise—" Puff.

"—and field experience—" Puff.

"—currently available." Jim settled back in his chair. The pipe was drawing nicely. Good tobacco too. Rich. Smooth.

He'd have to compliment whoever stocked the Bastion.

"Under the competent leadership of—" Puff.

"—Jerrim Ada—" Puff. A few of the agents glanced toward him. Jim ignored them.

"—you will be infiltrating—" Puff.

"—deep into the northern forest—"

"What?" The word left Jim's mouth before he even realised he'd spoken. Every eye in the room turned toward him. Even Dalanev stopped speaking. Jim lowered the pipe.

"Northern forest?" The tobacco suddenly tasted far less pleasant. Dalanev paused.

"Yes." The room had suddenly become very quiet. The easy rhythm of the briefing had vanished. Jim slowly turned toward Jess.

"Did you know about this?" Jess shook her head immediately.

"No." Now that was concerning. Jim frowned. Because if Jess hadn't known, then somebody had either kept information from her......or the situation had changed very recently. Neither option made him feel any better.

Jess not knowing meant this information had been held back. Or had only arrived recently. Neither possibility sat well with Jim. The Keepers exchanged brief looks. Tiny movements. The sort people made when they already knew the conversation was about to become difficult.

Jim felt a familiar knot forming in his stomach. The northern forest. Of all the places. Of all the bloody places. His fingers tightened slightly around the pipe.

"Lady Dalanev," he said carefully. The room could hear the change in his voice. Gone was the humour. Gone was the sarcasm.

"Please tell me we're not actually going through the northern forest." The smile on Dalanev's face vanished.

"No." Jim relaxed slightly. A fraction. Then she continued.

"We're going into it." The room remained silent. Jim stared at her for several seconds. Nobody else spoke. Nobody else moved. Jim stood so suddenly his chair scraped loudly across the stone floor.

The harsh sound echoed through the briefing room. The room fell silent. Without another word he stepped toward the large map spread across the table. His pipe hung forgotten between his fingers now. Slowly he placed a hand upon a section of dark woodland marked near the northern border of the Umber Empire. The Northern Forest.

For several seconds he simply stared at it. The black ink seemed darker than the rest of the map somehow. Then he looked up.

"Are ya one hundred percent sure?" His eyes moved between Dalanev, Gunlav, and Selest.

"This is where the Steam Legion is?" Dalanev nodded without hesitation.

"Yes." Jim remained silent. That worried Jess more than if he'd started swearing. Normally there would've been cursing by now. Or complaints. Or at least one insult.

Instead there was nothing.

"Positive?" Jim asked.

"Yes." The room stayed quiet. Jim looked back down at the map. Then he sighed heavily. The kind of sigh normally reserved for tax collectors, military inspections, and disasters.

"Do ya know what the Umber call this place?" Dalanev glanced briefly toward the other two Keepers. Gunlav remained still. Selest folded her arms. Neither answered. Dalanev looked back toward Jim.

"No." Jim nodded slowly.

"Dazan Blute." The words sounded ugly even spoken aloud. Old. Wrong. Like something that had spent centuries being whispered rather than spoken. Several of the agents exchanged uncertain looks.

"It translates roughly to..." Jim paused.

"Demon's Arsehole." Silence. Rioburt blinked. Rycen coughed. One of the mages snorted before quickly pretending he hadn't. Even Selest's expression twitched slightly.

Jim didn't smile.

"Funny name." His finger tapped the map.

"Not a funny place." The room grew quiet again. The brief moment of humour died almost immediately. Jim's gaze never left the forest.

"That forest is filled with every kind of hellspawn, nightmare, boogeyman, and mistake scholars know about." His voice had lost all humour now.

"All the things the Empire spent centuries creating, summoning, awakening, binding, controlling, experimenting on..." He looked up.

"Most of em eventually ended up there." A chill settled over the room. Several of the agents unconsciously glanced toward the dark patch on the map.

"The Empire treats that place like a rubbish pit." Jim tapped the map again.

"A place to throw things they couldn't kill." Another tap.

"Couldn't control." Tap.

"Or were too bloody frightened to keep nearby."

"When some clever bastard decides he's smarter than common sense and accidentally creates a new horror." Tap.

"They dump it there." Nobody spoke. The briefing room felt a little smaller now. Even Rycen looked uncomfortable.

"The Night Dancers avoid that forest." That got a reaction. Several heads lifted immediately. The agents knew who the Night Dancers were. Everybody did. Elite killers.

Predators. Monsters in their own right. Jim nodded.

"Aye."

"They avoid it." He folded his arms.

"Think about that." The room did. No one seemed particularly eager to speak anymore.

"This place," Jim said quietly, "is a nightmare dreamt into reality." For a moment nobody spoke. Then unexpectedly Dalanev smiled. A calm, composed smile.

"Well." The Keepers looked toward her.

"If anyone understands what our agents will be facing, that is reassuring." Jim stared at her. She continued.

"It's fortunate you've been there before." A pause.

"So you'll know exactly what they'll have to deal with." The room waited for Jim's response. Jim slowly looked back down at the map. Then at the forest. Then back at Dalanev.

"Aye." A long pause followed.

"I know exactly what they'll have to deal with." His voice was very quiet. Almost distant. Memories crashed through Jim's mind. Cold rain. Endless rain.

It hammered against armour, soaked through clothing, turned roads into rivers and fields into swamps. The Northern Forest had never seemed to care. He remembered stumbling through black trees while thunder rolled overhead. Remembered the distant warbling calls echoing through the darkness. Not animal sounds. Not human either.

Something in between. Something worse. His lungs burned. His legs ached. Rain and sweat had run into his eyes until the world became a blur of shadows and movement. And the eyes.

Gods above, the eyes. Watching from the darkness. Watching from the trees. Watching from places that should not have been able to hold living things. Always watching. Waiting.

The memory tightened around him. The smell of wet earth. Rotting leaves. The sound of snapping branches. The feeling of being hunted. Not chased.

Hunted. The difference mattered.

"Jim?" The voice cut through the memory.

"Jim?" He blinked. The briefing room snapped back into focus. The maps. The lanterns. The agents.

Jess. She stood beside him now, concern written plainly across her face. Jim realised his hand had tightened around his pipe. The wood creaked softly beneath his grip. He slowly loosened it.

"Aye." He sniffed once and looked away from the map. Then toward Dalanev.

"Are we finished?" Dalanev studied him for a moment before nodding.

"Yes."

"Good." Jim stood. The chair scraped across the floor. The sound seemed unusually loud in the quiet room. He looked toward the six agents.

"Well then." His voice had returned to normal. Mostly.

"I'm heading down to the armoury." The agents looked at him.

"If we're going into that forest, I need more weapons." A pause.

"And probably more armour." Another pause.

"And maybe another weapon after that." A few smiles appeared. Mostly nervous ones. Jim didn't return them.

"I recommend all of ya do the same." Nobody argued. That alone told him they were starting to understand.

"Then," Jim continued, "I'm gonna find something strong enough to drink that it makes this briefing seem like someone else's problem." That got a few chuckles. The tension eased slightly. Not much. But enough. Everyone looked toward Jess.

Jess looked toward Dalanev. The Keeper nodded.

"Very well." That was apparently permission enough. The meeting dissolved. Chairs scraped. Papers were gathered. Several agents immediately began talking in low voices.

The agents filtered toward the door. Jim left first. Jess followed. The others trailed behind. The stone corridor beyond the briefing room felt cooler than before. The air carried the faint scent of old stone, lantern oil, and mountain air drifting through distant windows.

For a while neither Jim nor Jess spoke. Their boots echoed softly along the corridor. Then Jess lengthened her stride until she was walking beside him. Jim glanced sideways.

"Lass."

"Aye?"

"I may have stormed out of that room with great confidence." Jess waited.

"I don't actually know where the armoury is." She stared at him. Jim shrugged.

"Details." A smile tugged at her lips. Despite everything.

"I know where it is."

"Good."

"That's why I'm here."

"Aye." They continued walking. The sound of boots echoed softly through the corridor. The Bastion felt quieter up here. More distant from the bustle below. After a few moments Jess spoke again.

"Is the forest really that bad?" Jim was quiet for a moment. Long enough that Jess wondered if he'd answer at all. His eyes remained fixed ahead. Then he nodded.

"Aye, lass." His voice was low.

"It's fucking awful." The humour was gone. Completely gone now. Jess looked ahead. The corridor stretched before them, lit by pools of lantern light and long shadows.

"You got out."

"Aye." Jim's eyes remained fixed on the corridor ahead.

"I did." Another pause. Their boots echoed softly against the stone floor.

"Only just, mind." The words came out almost absent-mindedly. As though he was speaking to himself rather than her.

"Only just." Jess didn't reply. She'd heard Jim talk about battles. About monsters. About dragons. About things that should have killed him but somehow hadn't.

Usually there was humour in the stories. A joke. A sarcastic comment. Something to blunt the edge. Not this time. This time there was nothing.

No grin. No laugh. No attempt to make light of it. Because for the first time since she'd met him... Jim sounded scared.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim stepped into the armoury and immediately felt slightly better. There was something reassuring about a room full of weapons. The familiar smell of steel, oil, and old leather hung in the air. The chamber was enormous. Rack after rack stretched away beneath lantern light.

Swords.

Axes.

Maces.

Warhammers.

Crossbows.

Daggers.

Polearms.

The walls themselves seemed buried beneath enough steel to arm a small kingdom. If a person wanted to hurt another person, chances were the tool for the job was somewhere in this room. The six agents had already dispersed among the racks. Rycen was examining a longsword. One of the mages was staring suspiciously at a mace as though it had personally offended her. Another agent was testing the balance of throwing knives. The occasional clink of steel echoed through the chamber as weapons were lifted, inspected, and returned.

Jim ignored them.

He knew what he was looking for. A few moments later he found it.

Spears.

Rows of them stood neatly arranged in wooden racks. Jim's face brightened immediately.

"There ya are."

He stepped forward and pulled one free. The haft was dark black wood with a tight grain running along its length.

Ironwood.

Good.

Very good.

Jim gave it an experimental flex.

Solid.

Heavy enough to hit with. Light enough to use all day.

"Huh."

He nodded approvingly.

"At least if the head breaks off I can still beat someone to death with it."

The nearby quartermaster looked up briefly. Then decided he didn't want to know. Jim examined the spearhead.

Leaf-shaped.

Wide enough to cut. Narrow enough to thrust. One edge had been serrated. The thing looked positively unpleasant. Which immediately increased Jim's affection for it.

"Aye."

He nodded.

"You'll do."

He carried it over to one of the large tables and laid it down. The spear settled across the wood with a solid clack. The others looked over.

"I recommend grabbing one of these."

Several agents approached.

Rycen picked one up first. The big man tested the balance. A few practice movements followed. His eyebrows rose slightly.

"Good weapon."

"Aye."

Jim nodded.

"Distance keeps ya alive."

The other agents quickly began selecting spears of their own. One of the female mages approached.

Dark-haired.

Sharp-eyed.

Mandelian if Jim remembered correctly.

"Is there anything else you'd recommend, sir?"

Jim physically winced.

"Gods above."

The woman blinked.

"What?"

"It's Jim."

He pointed at himself.

"Sir sounds like somebody who doesn't have to carry his own bags."

A few of the agents chuckled.

"I work for a living."

That got a laugh from Rycen. Jim pointed toward her.

"Mandy lass."

"Mandelian."

"Aye."

He ignored the correction.

"You wear armour?"

She shook her head.

"Not normally."

"Carry weapons?"

"Not usually."

Jim sighed.

"Right."

He pointed deeper into the armoury. Rows of chainmail hung from wooden stands farther back beneath the lantern light.

"Get yourself some chainmail."

She frowned.

"I cast magic."

"Aye."

"That's why I've survived this long."

"Aye."

Jim pointed again.

"And chainmail helps ya survive longer."

The mage looked unconvinced.

"An axe too."

"An axe?"

"Aye."

"Why an axe?"

Jim looked at her for a moment.

"Because if something eats your magic hand you'll still have another one free to swing the bloody axe."

The room went quiet. Mandelian stared at him.

"Fair point."

"I know."

She nodded and headed deeper into the armoury. Jim watched her go.

"She'll live longer now."

Rycen snorted.

"That's a low bar."

"Aye."

"Very."

The door opened.

Everyone looked up.

Jess entered carrying several bottles tucked beneath one arm. The glass caught the lantern light as she walked. Jim's eyes immediately locked onto them. His mood improved so quickly it was almost visible.

"Lass."

"Jim."

She walked over and placed the bottles onto the table beside the spear. The glass clinked together softly.

Whiskey.

Actual whiskey.

Good whiskey by the look of it. Jim looked at her. Then at the bottles. Then back at her.

"I've decided you're my favourite."

Jess rolled her eyes.

"You said that after I brought you breakfast."

"Aye."

Jim nodded.

"I've got very consistent standards."

A small smile tugged at her lips.

"Thought we could have a little drink together before we leave."

Jim looked around the armoury. At the agents selecting equipment.

At the weapons.

At the bottles.

At the looming reality of where they were going. Then back at Jess.

"That's the most sensible thing I've heard all day."

Jess set the bottles down on the table and immediately claimed one for herself.

"Good woman," Jim muttered.

She ignored him.

With practiced ease she uncorked the bottle.

POP.

The rich smell drifted into the air immediately.

Deep.

Woody.

Spicy.

The scent hit Jim's nose and sent a small shiver down his spine. Now that was proper whiskey. Not the cheap throat-stripper he'd grown fond of over the years. This stuff had probably seen more of the world than he had. Jess reached into one of her coat pockets and somehow produced several glasses.

Jim frowned.

"How many pockets have ya got?"

"Enough."

"Concerning answer."

Jess began pouring.

Amber liquid splashed into the glasses. The lantern light danced through it like liquid gold. The six agents slowly drifted closer. Like wolves scenting a wounded deer. Or Jim smelling whiskey. The effect was much the same. Jess handed him the first glass. Jim accepted it reverently. As though receiving a sacred relic. He lifted it to his nose.

Closed his eyes.

Took a slow breath.

Gods.

That was good.

Very good.

Then he took a deep swallow. The whiskey burned pleasantly all the way down. Warmth spread through his chest immediately. Chasing away at least a small part of the briefing.

"Ooooh."

The sound escaped before he could stop it. Jim placed the glass down carefully. Then gave Jess an appreciative nod.

"Lass."

"Aye?"

"If ya ever need somebody buried or a body moved, you've got my support."

Several agents laughed.

Jess shook her head.

"Noted."

Jim took another sip. Then glanced over his shoulder.

"Oi."

The six agents looked up.

"Get over here."

They gathered around the table.

"Have a drink."

None of them needed asking twice.

Glasses were collected.

Any excuse to delay thinking about the Northern Forest for a few more minutes. The bottle made another round.

Glasses were refilled.

The rich amber liquid caught the lantern light as it passed from hand to hand. For a few precious moments the tension of the mission eased.

Just people.

Sharing a drink.

Before walking into hell. Rycen lifted his glass. The large man looked around the group. His gaze lingering briefly on each face.

"Shall I suggest a toast?"

Jim shrugged.

"Aye."

"If ya feel like one."

Rycen nodded.

He raised the glass slightly higher.

"To honour."

Several agents nodded.

"To the mission."

More nods.

Then he paused.

His eyes drifted toward Jim. The old groundskeeper met his gaze.

Rycen smiled faintly.

"And to living through the bloody thing and getting back home."

For a moment nobody spoke. The words settled heavily around the table. Then Jim slowly lifted his own glass.

Not to honour.

Not to glory.

Not to the mission. Just the important bit.

"To getting back home."

The others raised their glasses.

"To getting back home."

The glasses clinked together. For a brief moment the room felt warm.

Comfortable.

Safe.

A rare thing.

* * *

​

The three Keepers sat around a small circular table deep within Bastion. Steam curled lazily from the mugs resting before them. A small lantern burned upon the table between them, casting warm light across papers and stone. For a time nobody spoke. The distant sounds of the fortress carried faintly through the stone walls around them.

Footsteps.

Voices.

The low rumble of activity somewhere far below. Eventually Gunlav broke the silence.

"You know once he learns the full facts, he'll try to stop it."

He took a slow sip from his mug. Across from him, Lady Dalanev nodded.

"I know."

Her answer came far too quickly.

Gunlav sighed.

"He's going to hate it."

"Probably."

"He'll definitely hate it."

Dalanev allowed herself a small smile.

"Yes."

"He'll be furious."

"Almost certainly."

Gunlav rubbed his eyes. The gesture carried the weary exhaustion of a man who could already see the coming argument.

"Glad we're in agreement then."

Selest snorted into her drink. The Keeper of Plans reached into a leather folder and withdrew several sheets of paper. The papers were thick with notes and annotations.

"Have either of you actually read his service reports?"

Dalanev raised an eyebrow.

"Several times."

"Then you'll know exactly why I'm concerned."

He waved the papers slightly.

"Massive disdain for hierarchy."

Another page.

"Questionable respect for authority."

Another.

"Repeated insubordination."

Another.

"Struck multiple superior officers."

Selest nearly choked on her drink. Gunlav looked at her.

"He hit a colonel with a shovel."

The room fell silent.

"Why?" Selest asked.

Gunlav checked the report.

"The colonel attempted to take credit for one of his men's actions."

Selest nodded.

"Fair enough."

Gunlav stared at her.

"You are not helping."

She shrugged.

"You've met Jim."

Gunlav reluctantly conceded the point.

He continued reading.

"Threatened a major."

"Argued with a general."

"Once referred to a senior commander as a 'decorative turnip wearing medals.'"

Dalanev looked into her mug. The corner of her mouth twitched. Gunlav pointed at her.

"See?"

"I'm trying very hard not to laugh."

"You should be worried."

"I am worried."

Selest smiled.

"You're smiling."

"Those aren't mutually exclusive."

Gunlav dropped the papers onto the table. The folder landed with a soft thump.

"The frustrating part is he shouldn't be Jim."

The other two looked at him.

"He could've gone far."

His finger tapped the reports. The stack of papers shifted slightly beneath the repeated motion.

"Very far."

"His instructors loved him."

"His soldiers followed him."

"His commanders trusted him with impossible jobs."

Gunlav shook his head.

"With half the things he's done he could've been a general."

A brief silence followed. The lantern between them crackled softly.

Then Selest spoke.

"But?"

Gunlav sighed.

The sound carried years of professional frustration.

"But he couldn't play the game."

Dalanev nodded.

"No."

"He never could."

Gunlav leaned back in his chair. The wood creaked quietly beneath him.

"And he definitely won't play our game."

That brought another silence. Outside, the distant sounds of Bastion drifted faintly through the stone walls. Eventually Dalanev folded her hands.

"I know."

Her voice had become serious again.

"But we need him."

Neither Keeper argued.

Because they all knew it was true.

"He knows the land."

Dalanev looked between them.

"He understands the dangers."

"He has survived places that should have killed him."

"And right now he remains our best chance of locating the Legion before the Empire does."

Gunlav slowly nodded.

Logic was difficult to argue with. Even when he disliked it.

"Which is why," Dalanev continued, turning her attention toward Selest, "you'll be accompanying them."

Selest raised an eyebrow.

"I suspected as much."

"You'll keep the mission on track."

Gunlav nodded.

"A sensible precaution."

Selest took another drink. The amber liquid swirled briefly inside her mug.

"Though I'm surprised you're not simply using your daughter."

The room grew quiet. Dalanev's expression remained unreadable.

"Jessica?"

"Yes."

"She already trusts him."

"Perhaps too much."

Dalanev looked into her mug. For a moment she seemed to be considering something far away.

"Before Riordan, I would have agreed."

She paused.

"But after?"

She slowly shook her head. A faint sigh escaped her.

"No."

Selest watched her carefully.

"You think she'd side with him."

"I know she would."

The admission hung heavily in the room. Neither Keeper spoke immediately.

Dalanev sighed softly.

"Jessica has always admired capable people."

A small smile touched her lips. The sort of smile only a parent could manage.

"And unfortunately for us, Jerrim Ada is very capable."

Gunlav groaned.

"Gods help us."

"Indeed."

Dalanev looked toward Selest.

"You understand your task?"

Selest nodded.

"I do."

"Good."

"You are not there to interfere."

"Understood."

"You are there to ensure the mission continues."

Selest's expression hardened slightly. The humour vanished from her face.

"It will."

Dalanev nodded.

Satisfied.

Outside the window the last light of day had begun to fade from the mountains. The distant peaks were already turning dark beneath the encroaching evening. Long shadows stretched across Bastion's walls. The expedition would leave soon. And somewhere far to the north, buried beneath ancient forests and forgotten horrors, the Steam Legion waited.

Silent.

Patient.

Whether that was a good thing remained to be seen.

 

[Simonbob]

"Once referred to a senior commander as a 'decorative turnip wearing medals.'"

Click to shrink...

Haven't we all?


Heh, that is a good one. Ah, well. Jim's a legend for a reason.

 

[Fragment of Serenity]

Oh look. People, who think they are smarter than they are, plotting.

I wonder how many Jim will strangle personally, and how many he'll have his dragon just eat.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Haven't we all?


Heh, that is a good one. Ah, well. Jim's a legend for a reason.

Click to shrink...

I'm not gonna lie , I wish I had said that in real life

 

[Metel_Pen]

Oh look. People, who think they are smarter than they are, plotting.

I wonder how many Jim will strangle personally, and how many he'll have his dragon just eat.

Click to shrink...

hmmm, we shall see. thats to say whether or not Jim makes it back

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim sat in the back of the wagon as it rumbled steadily toward the Umber lands. His head swayed gently with the rhythm of the wheels. The canvas above creaked occasionally whenever a gust of mountain wind caught it. The road had long since ceased being a road and had instead become a vague suggestion carved into the mountainside.

Rock.

Snow.

Cliffs.

More rock.

The sort of terrain that broke ankles and swallowed careless travellers. They were close now. Maybe a mile from the border.

Maybe less.

The Atakin had chosen their crossing point well. The Blades of Glandel were a jagged stretch of border mountains that formed a natural barrier between Aldara and the Umber Empire. Few patrols came this way. Fewer traders. Most sensible people avoided the region entirely. Ancient scars of wind and ice cut through the mountainsides, leaving the peaks sharp and unforgiving. Which made it perfect.

Jim approved.

If somebody was watching this crossing, they deserved to catch them. He glanced around the wagon. Four agents shared the cramped space with him. The air smelled faintly of leather, oil, damp wool, and travel rations. The others, including Selest for reasons that still hadn't entirely been explained, rode in the second wagon behind them.

Nobody was asleep.

Nobody was even relaxed. Rycen sat near the rear with his sword resting across his knees. One of the mages was repeatedly checking the straps on her pack. Another agent was staring out through a gap in the canvas as though expecting an army to emerge from the mountains at any moment. The fourth was quietly sharpening a knife. The soft scrape of whetstone against steel filled the wagon every few seconds.

Wasted energy.

Jim kept the thought to himself. He already knew what would happen if he told them to relax.

They'd nod.

Pretend to relax.

Then continue doing exactly what they were doing. The look in their eyes gave them away.

Green.

Not incompetent.

Not weak.

Just inexperienced.

They hadn't yet learned that a person could only stay alert for so long before exhaustion started making decisions for them. The Umber lands punished tired people.

Brutally.

Jim pushed the slight twinge of worry from his mind. No point borrowing trouble. They'd either learn quickly or they wouldn't. The wagon suddenly lurched.

Then stopped.

Jim's eyes opened immediately. A moment later came a sharp rap against the wagon's side.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

"Well," Jim muttered as he stood, joints protesting slightly.

"Looks like we're walking the rest."

The agents immediately gathered their equipment.

Nobody argued.

Good.

The journey was over. The expedition was beginning. Jim stepped down from the wagon onto cold rocky ground. The mountain air hit him immediately.

Sharp.

Clean.

Cold enough to bite at the lungs. He took a slow breath. The Blades of Glandel stretched around them in all directions, jagged stone peaks rising toward the grey sky like the teeth of some sleeping beast. Thin ribbons of cloud drifted lazily between the higher peaks. Beyond them lay the Umber lands. Still hidden from view.

For now.

Jim sniffed once, adjusted the straps on his pack, and reached back into the wagon. His hand closed around the shaft of his spear. The familiar weight settled comfortably into his grip. He pulled it free and rested it comfortably against one shoulder.

Better.

Much better.

Nearby the drivers were unhitching the pack mules. The animals snorted and stamped their feet while agents loaded them with crates, bedrolls, food, lanterns, rope, spare weapons, and enough supplies to keep the expedition alive for weeks. Harness buckles rattled softly.

Leather straps creaked.

Everyone moved with purpose now.

No more lessons.

No more planning.

No more briefings.

Just preparation.

Jess walked between the wagons checking the final loads. Her eyes missed nothing. Once satisfied, she gave the drivers a curt nod.

No speeches.

No goodbyes.

Just a nod.

The drivers returned it. Then climbed back onto their wagons. The wheels creaked into motion. Slowly the two wagons began making their way back down the mountain trail.

Back toward Bastion.

Back toward safety.

Jim watched them go.

Nobody spoke.

The expedition stood silently among the rocks while the wagons grew smaller and smaller. The sound of wheels and hooves gradually faded into the mountains. Eventually they vanished around a bend in the mountain path.

Gone.

For a moment the only sounds were the wind and the occasional snort from a mule. The mountain pass felt strangely empty now without the wagons. Jim adjusted the straps of his pack and looked toward Jess and Selest.

"Right then," he said. "Where to now?"

Jess smiled.

Didn't answer.

Just turned and began walking. Selest followed immediately behind her. The agents fell in after them. Jim watched them go for a moment.

Then nodded.

"Well."

He shifted his spear slightly.

"Here we go."

The words were mostly for himself. The expedition set off. The mountain trail wound steadily higher and deeper into the Blades of Glandel. The peaks towered over them on either side.

Cold.

Grey.

Unforgiving.

Ancient walls of stone scarred by centuries of wind and snow. The higher they climbed, the harsher the terrain became. The narrow paths turned into little more than broken shelves carved into the mountainside. The rock faces grew steeper. The drops grew longer.

The wind sharper.

Conversation gradually died away. Mostly because nobody wanted to be the idiot who walked off a cliff while talking.

Several hours passed.

Boots crunched over loose stone. The wind whistled through cracks in the mountains. The mules trudged steadily behind them carrying supplies while the agents spread themselves out naturally along the trail. Eventually they reached what appeared to be a dead end. A sheer wall of grey stone blocked the narrow mountain pass completely.

Jim stopped.

The others didn't.

Interesting.

Jess walked directly toward the rock face without slowing. Jim raised an eyebrow. Then she stepped through it.

No shimmer.

No glow.

No wavering air.

None of the usual signs of illusion magic. One moment she was there. The next she was gone. Selest followed immediately after her.

Then the agents.

Jim scratched at his beard.

"Well that's new."

The mules proved less enthusiastic. To them it looked very much like several humans had willingly walked into a cliff. One of the animals planted its feet and refused to move. Its ears flattened stubbornly against its head. Another attempted to turn around. Rycen ended up practically wrestling one through the illusion while two other agents pushed from behind. The mule voiced its displeasure loudly. Eventually they managed it. One by one the mules disappeared into solid rock.

Jim waited until everyone else had gone through.

Old habit.

Last man through.

He approached the cliff face cautiously. The stone looked real enough.

Weathered.

Cold.

Solid.

He reached out and waved the spear through it.

Nothing.

No resistance.

The shaft vanished into the rock as though it wasn't there at all.

"Huh."

He nodded.

"Fancy."

Then he stepped through.

Darkness.

Absolute darkness.

Not shadows.

Not dim light.

Nothing.

For a brief moment Jim couldn't see his own hand. Couldn't see the spear. Couldn't even see his boots.

Just black.

The sort of darkness that felt almost physical. Then white lights bloomed around him.

One.

Two.

Three.

Floating spheres drifted into existence overhead. The mages had cast light orbs. Their pale glow pushed the darkness back just enough to reveal their surroundings.

Jim blinked.

They stood inside a tunnel system. The air felt cooler here.

Still.

Ancient.

The walls had clearly been worked by hand at some point. Ancient tool marks scarred the stone. The ceiling stretched overhead beyond the reach of the lights. The tunnel itself disappeared into darkness in both directions. The faint sound of dripping water echoed somewhere far away.

"Well."

Jim looked around slowly.

"So this is how the Atakin gets agents in and out of the Empire."

Jess smiled slightly.

"One of the ways."

Jim glanced at her.

"One of the ways?"

Jess just kept walking.

"Need to know."

Jim sighed.

"Thought I'd hate that answer."

"You do."

"Aye."

The group formed up again. The lights drifted overhead. Their pale glow cast long moving shadows across the tunnel walls. The mules followed reluctantly. And together they ventured deeper into the mountain.

Jim felt... uneasy.

He couldn't quite put his finger on why. The tunnel itself hadn't changed.

Not really.

The same ancient stone. The same oppressive darkness beyond the reach of the floating light orbs. The same steady echo of boots and mule hooves. The same cool air pressing against his skin. And yet something felt wrong. Wrong in the way a forest felt wrong when all the birds stopped singing. Wrong in the way a battlefield felt moments before the first arrow fell.

His skin prickled.

The feeling had been growing for hours.

Slowly.

Subtly.

Like a splinter working its way beneath a fingernail. The expedition pressed onward. Every mile or so the tunnel branched. One passage became two.

Two became three.

The mountain seemed riddled with ancient tunnels. Some wide enough for wagons. Others little more than cracks vanishing into darkness. Each time they reached a junction Selest would stop, pull a folded parchment from her pocket, study it for a few moments, and choose a route. The first few times nobody questioned it. Now people had started watching. The further they travelled the less comfortable everyone seemed. Jim wasn't the only one feeling it. He could see it. The agents were talking less.

The mules were becoming increasingly skittish. One kept flicking its ears toward sounds nobody else could hear. Even Jess seemed quieter. The expedition reached another junction. Three tunnels stretched ahead. Dark mouths leading into deeper darkness.

Selest stopped.

Again.

The parchment appeared.

Again.

Jim watched her frown.

That was new.

He stepped closer to Jess.

"You feeling that, lass?"

Jess looked at him.

"Feeling what?"

Jim snorted.

"Don't play brave with me."

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment.

Then she sighed.

"Aye."

"There it is."

"What do you think it is?"

Jim shook his head.

"I don't know."

That worried him more than if he did. A sudden movement caught his eye.

Rycen.

The big man had shifted position. One hand rested on the hilt of his sword. His eyes remained fixed on the darkness beyond the light. Jim followed his gaze.

Nothing.

Just blackness.

Endless blackness.

The sort of darkness that made a person wonder what might be standing just beyond it.

Watching.

Waiting.

Listening.

Jim felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

"Ricky."

Rycen didn't look away.

"Aye?"

"What ya see, lad?"

The warrior swallowed.

"I..."

His voice sounded uncertain.

"I don't know."

That was enough.

Rycen wasn't the sort of man who got nervous easily. The big man took two slow steps backwards. The movement was small.

Instinctive.

The other agents noticed immediately. One by one they drifted closer to the light.

Closer together.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody wanted to be the first to admit they were scared. Jim didn't care about pride. He slowly backed up as well. Never taking his eyes off the darkness.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

One of the mules snorted sharply behind them. Another stamped a hoof against the stone. The sound echoed unnaturally far through the tunnels. Behind him Selest cursed softly.

Jim glanced over.

The Keeper was staring down at her parchment.

"What?"

Selest looked up.

Confusion filled her face. The sort of confusion that came from finding something impossible.

"It's wrong."

"What is?"

"These branches."

She pointed toward the tunnels.

"They shouldn't be here."

The room—or what passed for a room beneath a mountain—fell silent. Even the mules seemed to sense something had changed. Jim felt his stomach drop.

"How shouldn't they be here?"

Selest looked genuinely shaken.

"The map only shows one passage."

She turned slowly.

"There should only be one tunnel."

Nobody spoke.

The pale light orbs drifted silently overhead.

Then it came.

A sharp warbling cry echoed through the darkness. The sound bounced off the stone walls.

From ahead.

From behind.

From everywhere.

Not human.

Not animal.

Something else.

The mules immediately began panicking. Several agents spun toward the sound. Rycen drew his sword. Steel hissed through the tunnel. The cry came again.

Closer this time.

The noise scraped against Jim's nerves. Jim felt adrenaline surge through his body. The old instincts returning.

Fear.

Focus.

Action.

"Looks like we need to pick now, lass."

Selest was already staring at the tunnels.

Frozen.

Thinking.

Too slow.

Jim hefted his spear. The black ironwood shaft settled comfortably into his hands.

Familiar.

Reliable.

"Get them mules in the centre!"

His voice cracked through the tunnel like a whip. The agents immediately moved.

Training taking over.

"Now!"

The animals were hurried together.

Weapons came free.

Light orbs brightened overhead. The warbling cry echoed once more.

Closer.

Much closer.

Jim narrowed his eyes into the darkness. For a heartbeat he saw nothing. Then the darkness moved.

His stomach dropped.

"Fuck."

They came pouring out of the black.

Small.

Wiry.

Grey-skinned.

Long-limbed.

Their claws scraped against stone as they ran. Their movements were fast.

Jerky.

Wrong.

Their eyes caught the light from the floating orbs and reflected it back in a hundred different colours.

Bogins.

Hundreds of them.

The tunnel suddenly erupted into chaos. The creatures shrieked as they bounded across walls and ceilings, launching themselves through the air like rabid spiders.

"Fucking bogins!"

Rycen reacted instantly.

His sword flashed.

One creature split apart mid-leap.

Then another.

Then a third.

The big man stepped forward, blade carving silver arcs through the tunnel. The mages unleashed hell.

Bolts of fire.

Lances of ice.

Crackling arcs of lightning. The confined tunnel filled with flashes of coloured light as spells tore through the writhing mass. Stone walls flickered with dancing shadows.

Creatures burst apart.

Bodies slammed into walls.

Still they came.

There were too many.

Far too many.

Jess thrust both hands forward. Purple bolts of power hammered into the swarm. Every strike punched another hole through the creatures. The darkness simply filled the gap again. Jim's eyes never stopped moving. Years of surviving places exactly like this had taught him one thing. The thing that killed you was rarely the thing in front of you.

Movement.

Corner of his eye.

Left.

Jim spun.

A bogin launched itself from the tunnel wall. Its mouth opened impossibly wide. Rows of needle-like teeth glistened.

Jim thrust.

The spear punched clean through its chest.

The creature shrieked.

He ripped the weapon free and kicked the twitching corpse from the spearhead. Dark blood splattered across the stone. Another one immediately took its place.

Then another.

Then three more.

"Move!"

Jim's voice thundered through the tunnel.

"MOVE! NOW!"

The agents began falling back. The mules were screaming now.

Panicked.

Pulling against their leads. Bogins clawed and snapped at the edges of the light. Always looking for an opening. Always looking for weakness. Jim glanced toward Selest. The Keeper stood frozen for a fraction of a second, eyes darting between the branching tunnels. The map clenched tightly in one hand.

"Pick a fucking path or we're gonna die here!"

The words cracked through the chaos.

Selest blinked.

Then nodded sharply.

Decision made.

She turned and sprinted toward one of the passages.

"This way!"

Her voice echoed through the tunnels.

"THIS WAY!"

Jim immediately pointed with his spear.

"You fucking heard her!"

A bogin flew toward him. He smashed it from the air with the shaft. The impact rattled through his arms.

"MOVE!"

The agents didn't need asking twice. Rycen was already backing away while cutting down another pair of creatures. The mages retreated while hurling spells over their shoulders. Jess covered the rear. The mules were dragged forward. The tunnel descended fully into chaos.

Screams.

Magic.

Steel.

Warbling cries.

The pounding of boots against stone. And somewhere beyond it all...

More movement.

More eyes.

More creatures pouring from the darkness. Jim's blood ran cold. There were far more of them than there should have been.

Far more.

He thrust his spear into another bogin and tore it free.

"Run!"

For once nobody argued.

Nobody hesitated.

The expedition turned and fled deeper into the mountain. And the darkness came after them.

 

[Fragment of Serenity]

hmmm, we shall see. thats to say whether or not Jim makes it back

Click to shrink...

I fully believe that he has enough spite in him that his ghost will pop up just to do so.

 

[Simonbob]

I see the mission's going about as well as expected.

Just crossing the border was enough to get hordes of monsters attacking.

 

[Metel_Pen]

I fully believe that he has enough spite in him that his ghost will pop up just to do so.

Click to shrink...

Oh fuck yeah Jim would one hundred percent come back to fuck over any fuck who messed with him.

 

[Metel_Pen]

I see the mission's going about as well as expected.

Just crossing the border was enough to get hordes of monsters attacking.

Click to shrink...

That's just a little taste of the demons ass hole( joke intended ) you'll soon see others fair far worse

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim was running bravely. Or, to put it another way, he was bringing up the rear because everyone else was younger than him.

His lungs burned.

His legs felt heavy. Every breath scraped at his chest. The tunnel seemed endless. A narrow stone throat stretching forever into darkness. The pounding of boots echoed from every direction.

Keep breathing.

Keep running.

One foot.

Then the next.

That was all that mattered. They hadn't exactly chosen their route through careful planning. The tunnel they'd taken had simply been the one that vaguely pointed in the direction they needed to go.

Not ideal.

But being eaten by bogins seemed considerably less ideal. Behind them came the warbling shrieks. The creatures were still following.

Still hunting.

Still closing.

The sound bounced off the stone walls until it felt like the entire mountain was screaming at them. Jim risked a glance over his shoulder. The floating lights illuminated flashes of grey flesh and gleaming eyes. Far too many eyes. They flashed in the darkness like scattered jewels.

Watching.

Moving.

Closing.

"Fuck sake."

Another bogin launched itself through the darkness. Jim spun and thrust. The spear punched through the creature's chest. Its momentum almost carried it into him anyway. He ripped the weapon free and kept moving. No time to admire his work. The corpse hit the stone floor and vanished behind them. Jess remained beside him. Purple bolts erupted from her hands every few seconds. Each blast tore apart another creature. The tunnel flashed with violet light. Shadows danced wildly across the walls.

Still they came.

"We can't keep this up, lass!"

Jim shouted between breaths. Jess fired another bolt. The spell punched a bogin from the ceiling. Fragments of stone showered down around it.

"I know!"

"They're gaining!"

The words came out alongside a ragged breath. Sweat ran down Jim's face. His coat felt heavier with every step. His lungs screamed at him. The creatures didn't seem tired at all.

Funny that.

"Bring the tunnel down!"

Jess looked over.

"What?"

"Bring."

Breath.

"The tunnel."

Breath.

"Down!"

Realisation crossed her face. Jim pointed behind them.

"It'll buy us time!"

Another bogin appeared.

Jim smashed it aside with the shaft of his spear. The impact jarred his arms.

"At the very least!"

Jess nodded sharply.

"Keep them off me!"

"Aye."

She slowed.

Only slightly.

Then turned.

The others continued running ahead.

Rycen glanced back.

Saw what was happening. Immediately dropped back a few steps as well.

Good lad.

Jess planted her feet. Both hands came together. Purple light exploded between her palms. The air itself seemed to hum. The tunnel walls vibrated. Dust drifted from cracks in the ceiling. The light grew brighter.

Brighter.

Brighter still.

Jim felt the hairs on his arms stand on end. The smell of ozone filled the tunnel.

"Jess?"

The orb had grown to the size of a cart wheel. Violent energy churned beneath its surface.

"Lass?"

The tunnel was beginning to shake. Loose pebbles rattled across the stone floor.

"JESS!"

She thrust both hands forward. The spell erupted from her palms like a cannon shot. A massive sphere of purple energy streaked down the tunnel. It struck the ceiling. For a heartbeat nothing happened. Then the mountain exploded. The sound was deafening.

Rock shattered.

Stone burst apart.

The ceiling collapsed in a catastrophic avalanche. Bogins disappeared beneath thousands of tons of falling rock. The entire tunnel shook violently. Dust blasted outward like a storm. A wall of grey surged through the darkness behind them.

Jim's eyes widened.

"Oh that's a lot bigger than I expected."

"RUN!"

Jess didn't need telling twice.

Neither did Jim.

The two of them turned and sprinted after the others. Behind them came the thunderous roar of the collapse.

Stone.

Dust.

Darkness.

The mountain itself seemed to be falling apart. A cloud of debris surged down the tunnel after them. The world vanished into choking grey dust. Jim lowered his head and ran. His boots pounded against uneven stone. Loose rubble bounced around his feet. The mountain roared behind them. Jim ran until the mountain finally stopped trying to collapse on top of them. The rumbling gradually faded.

The shaking ceased.

Silence returned.

Well.

Mostly.

Everyone was breathing hard enough to make up for it. Dust filled the air. Great choking clouds of it drifted through the tunnel, illuminated by the pale glow of the floating light orbs. The particles swirled lazily through the air like ghostly fog. Jim bent forward slightly and rested his hands on his knees.

His lungs burned.

His legs felt like they'd been beaten with clubs. Every breath tasted of dust and stone. He slowly straightened and stretched one hamstring.

Something popped.

"Oh that's gonna hurt in the morning."

Another stretch.

Another pop.

"Aye."

Definitely gonna hurt.

Jim looked around.

The agents were scattered throughout the tunnel.

Covered in dust.

Sweaty.

Tired.

Alive.

Most importantly alive.

Several of them were coughing. One of the mules looked deeply offended by the entire experience.

"Well," Jim said between breaths.

"That got a little fucking rough, eh?"

A few tired laughs answered him.

Good.

If people were still laughing they weren't dead.

Yet.

Jim looked around the group.

"Everyone alright?"

A chorus of responses came back.

"Aye."

"Fine."

"Still here."

"Think so."

"Mostly."

Jim nodded.

Close enough.

His eyes settled on Rycen. The big man was staring behind them toward the collapsed tunnel. The warrior's chest still rose and fell heavily from the run.

"We lost one of the mules."

"Bugger."

Jim rubbed his face. A streak of dust smeared across his cheek.

"Lost anything important?"

Before Rycen could answer, Jess spoke.

"Some food."

"Some equipment."

She adjusted her pack.

"But we divided everything between the animals."

Jim nodded approvingly.

"Good idea, lass."

"Didn't want to lose all the food or all the supplies if something happened."

"Well."

Jim gestured vaguely behind them.

"Looks like something happened."

That earned another tired chuckle. The tension eased slightly.

Only slightly.

Because everyone knew they were still underground. And nobody really knew where underground was. Jim looked over toward Selest. The Keeper still held her parchment. Though at this point it looked about as useful as a fish trying to climb a tree. Dust coated the edges of the map.

"So."

Jim pointed with his pipe.

"Which way, Keeper?"

Selest looked down at the map. Then at the tunnels. Then back at the map.

"I don't know."

Nobody liked that answer.

Not one bit.

The words seemed to settle over the group like another layer of dust.

"Hmmm."

Rycen suddenly tilted his head.

"I don't think we're too far from the outside."

Several people looked at him.

"Why?"

The big man pointed upward. Jim followed his gaze.

The dust.

The dust wasn't just hanging in the air.

It was moving.

Slowly.

Drifting.

Swirling.

Being pulled somewhere.

Tiny clouds rolled across the tunnel floor while finer particles spiralled lazily through the beam of the floating light orbs.

"Huh."

Jim looked back at Rycen.

"Ricky."

"Aye?"

"Ya not just a pretty face, eh?"

A few of the agents laughed. Rycen rolled his eyes. But Jim noticed something else.

Selest was smiling.

Only slightly.

But the panic he'd seen earlier was gone.

Good.

Somebody needed to keep a cool head. Jim reached into his coat and pulled out his pipe. The familiar ritual settled his nerves immediately.

Tobacco.

Pack.

Tamp.

Match.

The small flame flickered to life. Its warm orange glow looked strangely comforting against the cold stone around them. Jim held it carefully in front of him. Making sure not to breathe.

The others watched.

The tiny flame danced.

Then leaned.

Ever so slightly.

One direction.

Jim watched it for several seconds.

Then nodded.

"Aye."

He lit the pipe. Took a long puff.

Exhaled slowly.

"I reckon we're not too far from the outside at all."

The smoke drifted in the same direction as the dust. Toward one of the tunnels. Jim pointed with the stem of his pipe.

"That way."

Selest looked at her map. Then at the tunnel. Then back at Jim.

"You sure?"

Jim took another puff.

"Nope."

The Keeper stared at him. The agents stared at him.

Jim shrugged.

"But the air's going somewhere."

Another puff.

"And right now that's more than your map knows."

For a moment nobody spoke. Then Selest slowly folded the parchment and put it away.

"Fair enough."

Jim grinned around the pipe. Now that sounded like progress. They moved for another half hour. The tunnels gradually widened as they climbed. The walls seemed less cramped now, the ceiling arching higher overhead as the passage wound steadily upward. The air grew fresher.

Colder.

Every step seemed to carry them further from the choking darkness behind them. Unfortunately every step also made Jim's legs stiffer. His knees had officially declared war on him. His lower back had joined the rebellion. And his hamstrings felt like they'd been hammered by an enthusiastic blacksmith.

"Wonderful," he muttered.

Nobody asked what he was talking about. Probably for the best. The female mage leading point suddenly raised a hand. The entire expedition froze.

Immediately.

Weapons shifted.

Eyes scanned the darkness. The mules stopped too, ears flicking nervously. She crouched near the front and motioned everyone closer. Jim sighed and trudged forward. As he approached he felt it immediately.

The breeze.

Not the faint current they'd been following.

A proper breeze.

Cold.

Fresh.

Alive.

It carried the scent of stone, snow, and open air. Then he saw it.

Stars.

Tiny pinpricks of silver light shone ahead. A grin immediately spread across his face.

"About bloody time."

The tunnel mouth opened onto a narrow shelf carved high into the mountainside. Jim stepped out first. The night air struck him like a blessing. Cold enough to sting his lungs. Fresh enough to make him realise just how stale the tunnel air had been. He took a deep breath.

Then another.

Gods that felt good. Behind him the others emerged from the tunnel one by one, many pausing for a moment simply to enjoy the open sky again.

"How fucking long were we underground?"

Nobody answered.

Nobody knew.

Time beneath the mountains had become meaningless.

Hours.

Maybe longer.

The darkness had swallowed any sense of it. Jim stepped closer to the edge. Loose stones crunched softly beneath his boots. The Umber Empire stretched before them.

Wide.

Open.

Flat.

The moon painted everything silver. Sparse forests dotted the landscape. Ancient roads wound across the plains like scars. Ruins sat forgotten beneath the stars.

Broken towers.

Collapsed walls.

The bones of places long abandoned. From this distance it almost looked peaceful.

Almost.

Jim knew better.

Far in the distance something darker than the night itself dominated the horizon.

The Northern Forest.

Even from here it stood apart from everything around it. The moonlight touched the plains.

Touched the roads.

Touched the ruins.

But somehow it never seemed to touch the forest. The trees formed a vast black mass that swallowed light.

Swallowed distance.

Swallowed hope.

Jim stared at it.

"Demon's Arsehole."

The old Umber name felt appropriate.

Very appropriate.

A cold feeling settled in his chest. The memories came immediately.

Unwanted.

Uninvited.

Rain hammering through black branches. The distant sounds of things moving through the darkness. Eyes watching from places where no eyes should be. The feeling of never being alone. Of always being hunted. The smell of blood.

The screams.

The things he'd seen. The things he'd failed to stop. The things he'd never spoken about. The wound had never truly healed. It had simply scarred over. Now the scar had split open again. Jim took a slow breath.

Then another.

Cold air filled his lungs. He forced the memories back down. Locked them away where they belonged.

Not here.

Not now.

Not in front of the others.

Still.

His eyes never left the forest. The others stood quietly behind him. Some were taking in the view. Others were studying the roads below. For them it was just a forest.

A destination.

A point on a map.

Jim knew different.

That place wasn't a forest. It was a graveyard.

A prison.

A dumping ground for centuries of arrogance and stupidity. And they were walking straight into it.

"Right then," he finally said.

His voice sounded rougher than before.

"We've got a few hours before dawn."

He adjusted the spear on his shoulder.

"Let's get moving."

The forest waited silently in the distance.

Patient.

Watching.

Jim exhaled slowly through his nose. Cold mountain air filled his lungs. Then he stepped forward. Out of the shelter of the hidden passage. Out of the mountains. And into the Umber lands. The others followed behind him. For a moment nobody spoke. The vast landscape stretched out beneath the moonlight.

Ancient.

Silent.

Waiting.

A faint breeze drifted across the hillside, rustling cloaks and carrying the scent of distant pine and cold earth. Jim adjusted the spear resting across his shoulder.

"Right then."

The group looked toward him.

"Let's see how much ground we can cover before dawn, eh?"

A few nods answered him.

"I don't particularly fancy being caught on the road at dawn by some Umber patrol."

That earned a few grim smiles.

"And besides."

Jim jerked a thumb back toward the mountains.

"I wouldn't mind putting a few miles between us and that bloody bogin nest before they dig themselves out."

That got a few more smiles. Even Rycen looked amused.

"A sensible plan."

"First smart thing you've said all day," Jim replied.

Rycen snorted.

The big man was getting used to Jim now.

A dangerous development.

Jim looked around the expedition. Every face met his gaze.

Waiting.

Watching.

The moonlight caught on armour, spearheads, and the occasional glint of an eye as they stood gathered on the mountainside.

"Aye."

Jess nodded.

"Agreed."

"So say we all," Rycen added.

The others nodded their agreement.

Even Selest.

Though the Keeper looked more relieved than enthusiastic. The tension from the tunnels hadn't fully left her face yet.

"Lead the way then, lass."

Jim gestured toward the distant plains. Selest nodded and began making her way down the narrow mountain trail. The agents followed behind her. The mules came next. Rycen brought up the rear. Within moments the expedition had stretched into a long line winding down the mountainside. Dark shapes moving beneath the stars. Jess started to follow. Jim gently placed a hand on her arm.

She stopped.

Raised an eyebrow.

The two waited until the others were far enough ahead that the wind would carry their voices away. The sound of boots crunching over loose stone gradually faded. Then Jim spoke quietly.

"Why's she here, lass?"

Jess looked toward Selest's retreating figure.

"The Keeper?"

"Aye."

Jess sighed.

"I don't know."

Jim studied her face.

Not her words.

Her face.

People lied.

Faces usually didn't.

"Maybe she's here to supervise the mission."

Jim tilted his head slightly. The expression said everything.

Really?

That's the best you've got? Jess rolled her eyes.

"Fine."

She folded her arms.

"I don't believe that either."

Jim nodded.

That sounded more honest.

"I wasn't made privy to the reason."

There it was.

The truth.

Not the whole truth perhaps.

But enough.

Jim released her arm.

Satisfied.

Jess hadn't been told. Which meant somebody had. And that somebody wasn't talking. The old soldier watched the expedition making its way down the mountain. Tiny figures moving across the moonlit trail. Pieces moving across a board. A board he couldn't quite see. There were things happening behind the scenes. Of that he was certain.

Too many secrets.

Too many half-answers.

Too many people carefully avoiding certain conversations. Jim didn't like it.

Not one bit.

The problem was there wasn't much he could do about it.

Not yet.

Whatever game the Keepers were playing would reveal itself eventually.

Secrets always did.

Until then there was only one thing that mattered. Get to the Legion. Keep as many of them alive as possible.

Get home.

Simple.

Or as simple as anything involving the Umber Empire could be. Jess started walking again.

Jim followed.

Boots crunching softly over the narrow trail. Though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Just because he wasn't going to chase answers... Didn't mean he couldn't do a little snooping.

After all.
If somebody was keeping secrets from him. It was only polite to return the favour.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Jim awoke at dusk. For a few moments he simply lay there staring up at the canvas roof of his little tent. The fabric stirred gently in the evening breeze, the muted sounds of the camp filtering through from outside.

His back hurt. His knees hurt. His neck hurt. Something near his shoulder hurt too, though he couldn't immediately remember injuring it.

"Wonderful."

He rubbed at his eyes and slowly sat upright, every movement accompanied by another quiet complaint from one joint or another.

Outside the tent he could hear movement. Voices. Boots. The soft clink of equipment being packed away. The expedition was waking.

Technically Jim had managed a decent amount of sleep. Technically.

The reality was somewhat different. He'd taken first watch. And then, in a manner of speaking, he'd taken part of second watch as well.

Not because he was required to. Because he didn't entirely trust the others yet. Not with where they were. The Umber lands had a habit of killing people who became complacent.

So when the next agent had relieved him, Jim had spent nearly two hours explaining exactly what to watch for.

What sounds mattered. Which sounds didn't. What shadows to ignore. Which shadows absolutely shouldn't be ignored.

And most importantly: What information needed passing on to the next poor bastard taking watch.

If one man noticed something strange and forgot to mention it, the next man might never realise the danger until it was standing in front of him.

The result was Jim was tired. Very tired. The sort of tired that settled into a man's bones and refused to leave.

He yawned. Stretched. Something in his spine popped loudly. "That's probably not ideal." Nobody answered.

Jim slowly dressed himself. Boots. Trousers. Coat. Belt knife. Pipe. The essentials.

Then he stepped outside.

The camp sat beneath the fading evening sky. The last traces of daylight clung stubbornly to the western horizon while darkness gathered steadily across the plains. A cool breeze stirred the long grass surrounding the campsite.

Around him the expedition was already breaking camp. Agents moved efficiently between tents. Bedrolls were rolled. Supplies packed. Mules loaded. Nobody needed telling what to do. Good.

That meant they were learning.

Jim immediately began collapsing his own tent. The old canvas structure came apart quickly beneath experienced hands. Pegs came free, ropes were coiled, and the weathered canvas folded into neat, familiar shapes. Within minutes it had been folded, rolled, and secured to his pack.

The others worked at similar speed.

Twenty minutes later there was almost no sign they'd ever been there. No tents. No campfires. No obvious trail.

Just disturbed grass and footprints. The sort of traces the wind would erase by morning. Exactly how Jim liked it.

The mules were loaded. Packs checked. Weapons secured.

Everyone looked tired. Dark circles sat beneath more than a few eyes. Nobody complained. A promising sign.

Jim adjusted the spear resting against his shoulder and glanced toward the darkening horizon. The last traces of daylight had disappeared now, leaving only moonlight and shadow across the open plains. "Won't be getting dinner sat around a fire tonight."

Several agents groaned.

Rycen looked horrified. "You're saying we're walking and eating?"

"Aye."

"That's barbaric."

Jim nodded solemnly. "I know."

"Truly dark times."

A few chuckles rippled through the group, the sound quickly swallowed by the open countryside. Good. Humour kept people sane. Sometimes.

Jess appeared beside him. "Ready?"

Jim looked around. The camp was gone. The expedition was packed. The sun had vanished. Night belonged to the Umber lands once more.

"Aye." He adjusted the straps of his pack, settling the familiar weight more comfortably across his shoulders. "Let's get moving before something notices we're here."

Nobody argued.

The expedition formed up and began moving once more. Their destination invisible beyond the darkness. The Northern Forest waiting somewhere ahead. Patient. Silent.

And in no hurry whatsoever.

They moved through the darkness for hours. The moon hung overhead, occasionally disappearing behind drifting clouds before reappearing once more, washing the landscape in pale silver light. The plains stretched endlessly around them. Open ground. Sparse trees. Ancient roads.

Ruins half-swallowed by time. Every so often the broken outline of an old watchtower or crumbling farmhouse appeared against the horizon before fading behind them once more.

At first the night had been relatively quiet. Not silent. The Umber lands were never silent. But quiet enough.

Now that was changing. Every so often a distant cry echoed across the darkness. A long warbling call that carried over the plains.

The first time they'd heard it nobody had reacted. The second time people had looked around. The third time everyone had reached for a weapon.

Now they had heard dozens. The calls drifted through the night from different directions. Some near. Some far.

Some so distant they sounded almost mournful. Others close enough to make the hairs on the back of Jim's neck stand up.

There were eyes too. The occasional pair reflecting moonlight from the darkness beyond the road. Watching. Waiting. Never approaching. Not yet.

Jim wasn't worried about Umber patrols. The Umber soldiers had more sense than that. Nobody with experience willingly patrolled the wilderness after dark. Not unless they had no choice.

The things that hunted at night belonged to the night. The soldiers knew that. The smart ones stayed behind walls.

Jim glanced toward the horizon. The Northern Forest looked larger now. Closer. Much closer.

A black wound upon the landscape, swallowing what little moonlight reached its edges. The longer he looked at it the more he could feel old memories scratching at the back of his mind. He shoved them away. Not now. Not yet.

Something else bothered him anyway. The calls. They weren't distant anymore. They hadn't been for a while.

Every cry now seemed to come from somewhere around them. Ahead. Behind. To the left. To the right. A loose circle slowly tightening as the expedition continued across the moonlit plains.

"Fuck." Jim lengthened his stride, his boots crunching softly over the uneven ground, and tapped Jess lightly on the shoulder.

Before he could speak she nodded. "I know."

Jim frowned. "Know what?"

"We're being hunted." Her voice was calm. Too calm. "The things making the calls have been closing on us for over an hour."

Jim studied her face. She wasn't guessing. She knew.

He glanced down. Her hands glowed faintly purple. Tiny strands of magical energy danced between her fingers, flickering like little threads of lightning between her knuckles. Ready. Waiting.

Jim looked further along the column. The others had noticed too. Every one of them. Weapons had appeared without a word being spoken.

The mages walked with glowing hands. Ready to cast at a moment's notice. The fighters carried naked steel. Moonlight glinted along polished blades every few steps before disappearing back into shadow.

Rycen marched near the centre of the column. His enormous sword hung low in one hand. The blade looked heavy enough to split a horse in half.

The big man kept his face pointed forward. But his eyes never stopped moving. Neither did anyone else's. Everyone looked ahead. Everyone watched everywhere.

The calls came again. Closer. A long warbling cry echoed through the darkness. Another answered it. Then another.

The sounds rolled across the open land from different directions, never staying in one place for long.

Jim could almost picture them. Whatever they were. Moving through the darkness beyond the reach of moonlight. Keeping pace. Watching. Waiting for somebody to make a mistake. Waiting for somebody to fall behind. Waiting for weakness.

Jim tightened his grip on the spear, the smooth ironwood haft reassuring beneath his calloused hands. "Jess."

"Aye?"

"If they wanted us dead."

"Aye?"

"They'd have attacked by now."

Jess nodded slowly. "Probably."

Jim didn't like the probably. Not one bit.

The calls echoed once more. This time close enough that several of the mules became restless, ears flicking nervously as they snorted into the night air.

The animals could smell it too. Whatever was following them. Whatever was circling them. It wasn't hunting.

Whatever was following them kept its distance. That worried Jim more than if it had attacked. Predators attacked. Hunters stalked. These things were doing neither. They were guiding.

The warbling cries echoed through the darkness, never rushing, never panicking, almost as though they knew exactly where the expedition was headed.

The glowing eyes appeared between trees. Above them. Beside them. Behind them. Always behind them. Never ahead.

Jim slowly realised why. He glanced toward the forest. Then back at the creatures. Then toward the forest again, the pieces quietly falling into place.

"Huh."

Jess looked over. "What?"

Jim pointed with the stem of his pipe. "Looks like they want us ta keep moving."

The agents glanced around. The realisation slowly spread through the group. The path ahead. The path into the Northern Forest. The only direction not blocked.

Rycen's grip tightened on his sword. "That's not reassuring."

"Didn't say it was."

The calls echoed again. Closer. Patient. Waiting.

Jim sighed. "Well." He adjusted his spear, settling it more comfortably against his shoulder. "Lead the way."

The agents exchanged uncertain looks. Nobody volunteered.

Eventually Jim simply started walking. The others quickly followed, boots crunching softly over the leaf-strewn ground as they crossed the tree line.

The moment they stepped beneath the canopy everything changed. The eyes vanished. The calls stopped. Silence descended upon the forest. Complete. Absolute.

Not even the wind seemed willing to enter. The towering branches knitted together high overhead, swallowing the moonlight until only thin shafts of pale silver reached the forest floor.

The sudden quiet felt wrong. The group slowed. Nobody spoke.

Then another sound drifted through the trees. A voice. Soft. Gentle. Sultry. Beautiful.

It seemed to come from everywhere at once, floating between the ancient trunks without any clear source. A melody without words. A song that tugged at the edges of thought. Calling. Inviting. Promising.

Jim kept walking. The others did not look nearly as comfortable.

Jess glanced toward him. "What is that?"

Jim didn't stop. "Don't know."

A lie. A very obvious lie.

The voice drifted through the trees once more, lingering just long enough to make people wonder where it had come from.

Several agents visibly reacted. One of the mages took a step toward the sound before catching herself.

Jim spoke without turning around. "Whatever ya see."

The team immediately focused on him.

"Whatever ya hear." His voice remained calm. "Don't react."

Nobody spoke.

"Don't attack."

The voice continued calling them deeper, its haunting melody drifting lazily between the ancient trees.

"Just keep walking."

The agents exchanged uneasy glances. Even Rycen looked unsettled. That alone was enough to worry everyone else.

The forest seemed determined to draw them onward. Tree by tree. Step by step.

The towering trunks stood like silent pillars around them, their twisted branches blotting out almost all of the moonlight overhead.

Eventually the trees opened. A clearing waited ahead. Moonlight spilled across the grass, bathing the open space in pale silver while the forest beyond remained swallowed in darkness.

Jim stopped at the edge. The others halted behind him. He took a slow breath. Then spoke without looking back. "And no matter what ya hear in ya heads."

Nobody moved.

"Don't agree to anything."

That got their attention.

Jess immediately stepped forward and grabbed his arm. "What?"

Jim looked down at her hand. Then at her. "Trust me on this, lass."

His tone had changed. No jokes. No sarcasm. Just seriousness. "She'll promise ya the world."

A cold feeling settled over the clearing, and for a moment even the beautiful singing seemed to grow quieter.

"Don't say yes."

Jess stared at him. "What is going on?"

Jim looked ahead. Into the clearing. A small smile touched the corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna see an old friend."

The words somehow made everything worse.

Jess released his arm. Nobody wanted to ask any more questions.

Jim stepped into the clearing. The agents followed. Selest among them.

Moonlight illuminated the centre of the open ground. A lone figure stood waiting. A woman. Tall. Still.

Hair black as midnight. Skin pale as porcelain.

Her dress seemed woven from darkness itself, hanging perfectly still despite the faint breeze brushing through the clearing.

Beautiful. Impossibly beautiful. Wrong.

Everything about her was wrong. The air around her felt heavy. Ancient. Hungry.

Selest inhaled sharply. "A demon."

The woman turned. Her eyes were endless black voids. Not pupils. Not irises. Just darkness.

The black lips parted into a smile. And for the first time since entering the clearing, her gaze settled upon someone. Jim.

"Ah." The smile widened slightly. "Hello, Jim." The voice was warm. Almost affectionate. "Long time no see."

Behind him six agents, a Keeper, and Jess collectively had the same thought.

What. The. Fuck.

 

[Metel_Pen]

Right, thought I'd try something.

If you're enjoying Jim, or even if you're not, but you reckon someone you know might, why not tell 'em about it? Give 'em a little nudge in this direction.

Know any closeted alcoholics with rage issues, a strong disdain for institutions, and an appreciation for a truly foul mouth? Tell 'em about Jim.

(Not your mum. Well, maybe your mum. It's 2026, I don't judge.)

Be it Discord, other forums, Reddit, wherever you fancy.

(Actually, please try Reddit. I got dragged into a bit of a karma black hole over there after getting into it with a mod. He promptly nuked me into oblivion. Strange fellow, that one. Apparently, telling him what I thought of him wasn't the diplomatic solution. Who knew?)

Anyhoo, if you know someone who might vibe with Jim, point 'em my way. I'm trying to get the old bastard out into the world, and word of mouth seems as good a way as any.

And while I'm at it, if you've got any pointers on my writing, please just wing 'em at me. Seriously. I'm always happy to hear what works, what doesn't, and what I could be doing better.

Cheers.

 

[Fragment of Serenity]

He and that demon have ABSOLUTELY tried to murder the shit out of each other at least 3 times.

The demon thinks it makes him adorable. Jim thinks he needs to try stabbing harder.