CH3: The Map Opens

The humans are proving greedier than expected. Men have already slain their first monsters and fell for the temptation of their sponsors. 8,980/10,000 survivors remain among the human male population. Their average level remains below 5, but there was an upset. Zack Sin, that dastardly record breaker, threw some curveballs and failed to kill his trumpeter. Are we going to see some human cannibalism firsthand? The betting boards are open, and we accept credits from all regions. What will Zack do to fuck an elf virgin like Jill in her sweet steamy Cloaca? Will he be the first to sire a batch of hybrids? It’s anyone’s game folks keep watching.

…

The first hid the second a duality that ensured one fireball hit. His mind felt splintered, holding two compressed fireballs rotating around his hand. Zack smiled as his migraine pounded. He listened to Tyler smacking a block of ice together. With every blow, the fire flickered. He still smelled burning pork over the sweet scent of Agios sprout smoke. Oh, and since he last put the spear down, it disappeared.

“Do you have to do that here?” Jack asked.

“Fuck you, Jack; I can practice my skills anywhere I want.” Zack smiled through the pain. “I prefer it to burning flesh.”

“Yes, it's hard to block that smell out. But gentlemen, we need food and clean water before we’re too weak to fight about it,” Clint said.

“We aren’t eating Gabby,” Zack said.

“Has she grown on you already?” Jack said.

“I am not suggesting eating another sapient until we have no choice, but it remains a choice.” Clint made a show of looking around the room. “We are desperate men that will grow more desperate without the resources we need.”

Drops from melting ice fell around them. Without some hard work, the igloo would crumble after it softened.

Zack knew he could kill the first monster, but the second one, which had long arms, was troublesome.

Who was willing to make a run for it? With a cliff at their backs, they could only run into the arms of the monsters. Zack wasn’t quite able to kill it yet, and his growth screeched to a halt after the goblins burned—well, his increase in mass.

He was close to his third fireball. The pounding in his head dulled with every hour he kept the fireballs rotating. It was a pain he had to get through. On the other hand, power lived and propagated.

Would five fireballs be enough to slay that nightmarish creature? How about 10 or 20? Would he feel confident fighting it, then?

He hid those thoughts and didn’t have time to live in fantasy. Three might be the limit before hunger stole his concentration. Would three be enough to slay the first monster?

Zack felt it should be enough, but the trumpeter never terrified him. He didn’t tell the others it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. It would kill morale if he told them there was a far more terrifying monster behind the one they sought to defeat.

There was also the chance that the monster wouldn’t be present.

A spark burst into life over his hand, and a third fireball popped and sizzled. Water fell from above, and he gripped his hand and supported it. Sweat poured down his face like he was in the tropics' hot summer sun. His smile flashed to the others as the headache on the decline roared back more powerfully than ever before.

They stared at him like his brains melted out of his ears.

“Did you kill something while we weren’t looking?” Jack said.

“Levels and stats aren’t the only ways to grow stronger. Give me an hour, and I’ll kill the monster.”

Jack smacked his hands together. “That’s what I’m talking about. I didn’t know you were such a team player.”

“Get your tongue out of homeboy’s ass,” Earl said.

“How does making androids out of ice go? I understand you hit a snag recently with your molds,” Jack said.

“Now, Jack, we have better things to do than rib one another. We need a plan. Assuming Zack can kill the trumpeter, what then? Do we all begin a march through knee-high snow with a prisoner who knows the land better than us?”

“You aren’t turning our prisoner into rations,” Zack said.

“None of us were suggesting; why are you so quick to assume we will just chop her up and eat her?” Clint asked.

Zack clutched his pounding head and pretended the question didn’t make him want to fling fireballs like party candy at a rave.

No, he needed to calm down and think happy thoughts, like how great it would feel to wield four fireballs and whether his abilities required using other elements. Did they make it easier, like adding training wheels?

There was also the question of how he would slip away and meet up with Jill. That elf had secrets, and he would pull them out of her.

He felt a cold drop of water hit his forehead and pushed pressure into it. Nothing happened, leaving him less than impressed with himself. There wasn’t a wall, and he was fumbling in the dark.

Footsteps behind him sucked as one of Jack’s enforcers interrupted their meeting. “We have a problem. The men want to go down, and they fight the monster. They aren’t taking no for an answer and won’t wait for a plan.”

Zack knew where this was going. “Fuck it, we ride.”

Earl stood up and stared out at the entrance. That’s when Zack finally heard it, and the men were screaming.

They rushed out of the igloo.

Zack rushed to the edge of the flat hilltop and looked down to see a man well within the protected field impaled through the leg with ice. Zack turned to see a whole branch missing from their tree burning in the fire. Some men must have gotten cold and used a branch, not knowing it would weaken their defenses.

The monster beat at its chest like an ape and blew its horn. The icy wind swirled around it as Zack started down the hill. He raised his offhand, and one of his fireballs appeared within it. Pressure moved with no delay within his field, even fireballs. He had the high ground and 20 feet to accelerate his attack. He aimed for the shoulder and fired off two rounds.

Pain shot through his head, and he fell. Strong hands caught him, and he stared up at Earl, keeping him on his feet. “Don’t say I don’t do shit for the brothas now,” Earl said.

“I get that reference,” Zack said.

He watched his second fireball curve and hit the monster on the shoulder. His focus zoomed in on the ice, crawling up to the wound. It was a lucky hit, and the explosion left Jason Nelson primarily unscathed.

“We can’t afford to lose anyone,” Zack said.

“I’m on it,” Jack said.

Zack looked on in shock as Jack organized the group. People recognized him and stood straighter. The captain was on deck, and everyone looked ready to start saluting.

“Don’t look too jealous. We all need you to kill it.” Clint said.

Zack nodded and straightened up. “We all have our parts to play.”

He launched two more fireballs doing little more than pissing the monster off as he moved across the hill. More fireballs struck it, and the beast roared and blasted ice spikes in Zack’s direction. The barrier was near halfway up the mountain instead of at the base.

Zack hit different spots on the creature, searing it but never doing enough damage to finish it off. That would take compressed fireballs that exposed ice off the monster’s body. He couldn’t risk fleeing and killing Jason in revenge.

The barrier suddenly lost another foot. At that moment, he saw the other monster barreling in and killing everyone.

Zack felt a hand clasp his back. “Jason is out of harm's way. Take it out,” Clint said.

Zack turned to see the truth of Clint’s words and felt two fireballs compress to the size of marbles. It was a struggle to keep them so compressed and wield a third fireball simultaneously. His focus on the creature blotted out the throbbing in his head.

What was a splinter compared to the opportunity? He could get a view of the world.

The first fireball flew in front, bloated and straightforward. He spun the second and knew it would spin, so he aimed the third behind the first fireball, where the monster would let it hit. The trumpeter knew that Zack was limited to two fireballs, and the large ones weren’t dangerous.

It wouldn’t understand that it leaped forward as Zack’s second fireball curved to strike it if it retreated. The monster had taken to dodging by tanking the first fireball. It did so to avoid a scenario where Zack used two curved fireballs. Zack had trained it to do that with his initial fireball practice.

The first fireball hit the monster and fizzled out. Then, the second hit and exploded violently. Ice broke off the creature’s chest, throwing it back into the second fireball. A second explosion went off before it could cover itself in ice again.

Snow and ash obscured his vision as the men around him cheered. Three more fireballs appeared before his palm, condensed into yellow balls of death, and fired like buckshot. Three fiery explosions lit the smoke, revealing the silhouette of the creature. One of its hands was on the creature’s shoulder while the other pulled a horn from the monster’s chest. 

Zack raised his hand to form 3 more fireballs and unleashed them. The trumpeter’s body was blown apart, but the other monster could not be seen.

He turned to see Clint staring beside him. “Can I have a light?” Clint held out a cigarette, and Zack lit it without thinking. “Don’t tell anyone about that, or we aren’t getting off this hill.

Map Unlocked

Quests: Unlocked

A tab opened on his screen.

Quest: Find a new area to settle

Reward: Raid Dungeon Locations unlocked.

When the map opened, Zack saw a horn. Was that what gave the Brass region its name? Golden forests of Agios trees strangled the region, biting the horn's edges and slithering into green land. Only pockets of green around the White Tundra seemed livable. Mountains isolated parts of the area in a circular pattern, leading to an abyss. Tiny monsters were drawn across the map in different regions except for the gold of the Agios forests.

“If I vote that we settle in the Agios forests, will you back me up?” Clint asked.

Zack hid his hand and formed three compressed fireballs. The pounding in his head continued sounding the march toward mastery.

His eyes found illustrations of small goblins, centaurs, and naga placed on the map. Zack saw a blue dot where they were and numerous other blue dots on the map in mountains, swamps, and deserts. There were also pink dots equaling the blue. None were placed in the Agios Forests surrounding the border of the region.

“I will vote against it,” Zack said.

There was a nearby monster zone labeled 1 to 5. Maybe that could be a source of food.

“We need levels. But more than that, we need safety.” Clint said.

“My thoughts exactly,” Zack said.

“You won’t stop the rest of us from getting stronger, but you deny us safety.”

Zack’s face scrunched up at the nonsense. His fist tightened and shook, and he could feel the power in his hands. His ears picked up heavy stomping through the snow. Clumsy feet tripped and adjusted in knee-high snow. They lugged something, burdening their rush. A soft horn sounded in the wind, carrying a heavy chill.  

Everyone watched the trumpeter's burning body with rapturous enthusiasm.

Clint kept away from Zack by two arm’s length. Zack turned to see two men with the 15ft spear prepared. Their eyes bulged, and their bodies froze. Maybe they figured out that Zack fought someone who knew how to use the weapon they were holding and won. Perhaps the burning corpse down the hill reminded them that it could easily be them.

Zack smiled and tried to copy Jack. “Oh, you brought my spear, good. Please give it to Clint; he’ll need it to get some levels. He’s old like me, so it's hard for us to move; we need the reach.”

He turned and presented his chest to give them a bigger target. Clint’s eyes remained focused on Zack, completely ignoring the two.

“Yes, thank you for bringing it to me. But pack it up for transportation; we’re moving out. After we have a short meeting to plan our next camp, I will need it.”

Zack pulled his hand from behind his back and grinned as Clint paled. “Relax. If I were going to kill you, I would have done it in front of them. Unlike you, I want everyone to get along. Survival is a team sport. We need to farm whatever monsters we find. Tyler will be the key to doing more than surviving here. When we march, have Jack move him to the middle of the group.”

“We can farm the monsters for levels and meat. We aren’t hunter-gatherers. That would be ideal. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps we can be friends instead of competition.”

That settled it for him. Clint had to be a politician back on Earth or maybe something similar.

Assassination attempts couldn’t go without repayment. He also couldn’t afford to kill off people he may need. Most importantly, he’s never killed another human. It was a line he didn’t want to cross.

The goblins had been shadows at night, and the horror was better off dead.

Zack trudged down the hill past the point of protection until he stood before the burning trumpeter. “Every one of us has a purpose. Tyler is a farmer, Jack is a mage, and you’re a smith, so we need all of you to succeed.” He looked Clint dead in the eyes. “Have someone collect the copper. If we get some tin, you might be able to melt and mix them and make bronze. You are a smith, after all.”

Clint's botched assassination attempt was a pleasant distraction compared to what truly bothered him. He trained constantly because he didn’t fear the people around him.

The copper had melted, and he couldn’t tell if what he saw was real. Why did that creature steal a horn from another monster? They lacked information; killing each other like a bunch of chimps in a troop wouldn’t help.

“We can’t afford to lose anyone. I understand your assassination attempt; we were enemies. Now that we’re on the same side, you should know that betrayal can never be forgiven. The next time you try something like this, I will show you no mercy. This is your second chance. There won’t be a third.”

There were other groups in which smiths were not that rare. He remembered Jill’s expression and the way she used old English. Zack couldn’t trust the elves to give them extras. Maybe other races had smiths, but getting them to help might be impossible.

“If you do what is best for the group, we will be friends even if we disagree. You understand what you look like, don’t you.” Clint puffed, pulled his cigarette to the filter, and tossed it in the snow. “Those things will kill you,” Zack said.

“How do you know our stats won’t make us immortal?” Clint said.

Zack snorted he wasn’t. He felt the cold on his skin, the air freezing his lungs, and snot running into his salty mustache. All of them were salty and retched after a single night. What would a month look like? How long before their teeth started falling out?

“Clint, does anyone have the dentist class?” Zack asked.

“No, but Frank Bismark is a dentist. You need to introduce yourself and get your name out, or how will people know you’re important.” Clint said.

“Is that your advice, friend?”

“Partner, you need to show you’re a team player, or it won’t be me aiming at your back.” Clint shook his head. That needs to wait. We have two goals. We must move off this hill and south toward Lake Nash and the Green Bottom. That will put us near fresh water and maybe some game. If we can find some woods, that would be great.”

Zack pulled up his map and mentally zoomed in on the area. He wasn’t sure it would work until he saw forests with patches of grasslands.

“Wood won’t be a problem. The monsters are levels four to ten. It's also in dragoon territory. What are the odds they don’t have a stronghold near a source of fresh water?” Zack asked.

“Poor, but that area is large. The region isn’t to scale; certain parts are larger than others. Green Bottom is dozens of square miles of land. We’re on Agios Hill, and it's only a few dozen hectares of land. But Agios Hill is larger than Green Bottom on the map.”

“Let me see something.”

Zack clicked on Draco Tundra. Its levels were displayed from 50 to 65. It was a ring around the abyss in the region's center, nearly 1000 miles across and stretching around a massive hole. He clicked the abyss and saw a single yellow eye blink at him. He looked away and concentrated on the area’s stats. It had an enormous diameter of 10,000 miles across. Levels were labeled max, and he assumed that was 99+ but didn’t know the class cap.

He zoomed out of the map and paid careful attention to the regions. Something was frozen. That was the only conclusion he could draw. Did it have something to do with the song on the wind?

“Sizes on the map are determined by importance, not their actual size,” Zack said.

…

Jack showed his spine and argued with Clint about their next objective. Levels were on Jack’s mind. He stared at the fireballs in Zack’s left hand and the magic ice in his right. The ice wasn’t his own but a spike from the trumpeter’s spell. He had a quest to learn how to use it without any ability. Trying to figure out how to use Soul Ice was like learning to ride a horse backward. That didn’t mean he was going to drop his fireball training.

Zack flipped through the quests, which were mostly about facets of his power, and offered training suggestions rather than actual tasks. He had seen a bunch of random functions with XP rewards before, but they had changed. Jill, it had to be.

Quest: Improve Soul Fire Strength

Melt a rock to increase soul-fire heat.

0/1

There was no reward because completing the exercise was the reward. He found another one. It was about increasing his range. It simply suggested he pushed against his limits, whatever that meant. On and on it went, but he found something interesting.

Learn how to use ice. There were no suggestions, maybe because Jill had no idea or she wanted to see him fail repeatedly. No, that wasn’t it. These quests were only suggestions to help him pursue different paths to getting stronger.

Zack thought she might manipulate him into getting the update, but perhaps that wasn’t her intention. What if the reality TV show was only a cover? Zack didn’t see any cameras, but that didn’t mean anything. For all Zack knew, the elves could watch through their eyes. It would be beyond creepy if that were true.

A scarier thought was, what if Jill wasn’t his system admin? What then? He turned his attention back on practice and what they needed.

Food had to be their goal. All of them were starving and had many miles to travel in the snow. They would be in trouble if they didn’t have snow to melt for water.

“How many miles will you be able to walk without food?” Zack asked.

The two stopped arguing at his words.

“We all want levels, man, but the people are getting hungry. Not all of us had ration bars in our pockets when we were abducted,” Earl said.

He ignored the way his mouth watered at the thought. Why hasn’t anyone headed out on their own yet? They had classes and levels that could make them strong, but hunger was the enemy.

Zack checked his status.

Zack Sin

Soul lvl7

Mass 1265/10,000

Density: 7

Pressure 1.23 (4.259)

Max Output: 5,387

Soul Space: Locked

Range: 20.4ft

Body: 1 (1.5)

Compression: 1

Affinities

Fire 1 (1.5)

Ice: Locked

It was another big jump. And his abilities had changed recently. Either the system admin had done something, or Zack’s powers were changing with him.

Ability Slots: 2/3

Embers I: Raise Fire Affinity by 1.5x

Upgrade: 10 Pressure

Enhance I: Raise Body by 1.5x

Upgrade: 10 Pressure

Choose

Price: 1 Pressure

Spark I: Unlock Light and 1.5x user base affinity.

Strand I: Mass can be divided into strings, each equal to pressure, and further divided by halving the pressure to increase the number of strands.

The range I: 1.5x the user’s base range.

Frost I: Unlock Ice and 1.5x user base affinity.

Dark I: Unlock Dark and 1.5x user base affinity.

Light I: Unlock Light and 1.5x user base affinity.

Price: 2 Pressure

Infuse I: Unlock the infuse ability and 1.5x effect.

Concentration I: Raise compression by 1.5x

Zack was starting to think the numbers were worthless. The only thing that made some sense to him was the pressure. It determined how hard his fireballs hit and what abilities he could get. As for the affinities themselves. Why was Ice locked and the others missing? Was it because he was actively trying to unlock Ice?

Mass was how thick his soul was, and over 1200 was dummy thick. He couldn’t use most of that power. Three fireballs were nowhere near his maximum output. At most, each fireball was five masses worth of pressure. He wasn’t entirely using pressure alone. He controlled the pressure through mass. Each unit had its controls, and he could use around 15 before his brain felt like it would crawl out of his ears.

Clint cleared his throat. That’s right, they were in a meeting. “I’m calling a vote. If you all favor prioritizing food over honoring the XP vouchers, raise your hand.” Zack did so, and Clint lowered his hand.

“See, I told you he wanted us to be weak,” Jack said.

“What world are you guys living in? If we don’t get food soon, people will die. You’re all level 1. Anything we kill should net you a level. I don’t know why you’re in a hurry to face your nightmares. I’m not.” Zack said.

He was at the right spot to dig into his system and figure things out. More power wasn’t going to help him much. At level 9, he planned to hold off on leveling for a while and focus on exploring his powers. Zack had to face a ridiculously pants-shitting terrifying cosmic force that humanity didn’t fully understand. Zack wanted to hit well above his weight class before even investigating the abyss.

Why did they think he trained every moment of the day? It wasn’t to face them. But that wasn’t what he would say out loud. People had pride and feelings.

“Nightmares might not be real, and it's easy for you to say you’re level 7,” Jack said.

“We’re a group of lvl1s about to invade the territory of many powerful monsters. Finding enemies to level us won’t be an issue.”

“You’re going to take all the xp again. We need to level up. I’m done falling behind.” Jack said.

Zack smiled and threw them a bone. “I’ll weaken something for the rest of you to finish.” Zack stood as he heard Jack grind his teeth and curse under his breath. Before we leave, I’m going to see the prisoner. Maybe she’ll slip up and narrow down the location of her clan,” Zack said.

…

He left the slow-dissolving igloo. Its roof was near collapse, and the puddle around it had frozen over. Zack flipped the ice sickle in his hand and felt his pressure react to the magic ice. It wasn’t melting even close to his fireball, which was interesting. People milled about in small groups, eying each other like they would be attacked at any moment. Zack felt the tension in the air on his skin. They watched him flip his ice sickle, but not one of them was brave enough to meet his eyes.

He checked the map and saw that Agios Hill was a white spot surrounded by green. It was mirrored by other places on the map, each of similar size. He suspected they were more than mere cold pockets from a higher elevation. Agios Ridge, Agios Cliffs, and Agios Canyon each had a blue dot, which might not make them unique. Zack suspected they had something to do with the Draco Tundra.

All they had to do was cross 200 miles of snow and lvl50+ monsters to reach the hole in the world. They were a long way away from that, but it was interesting. Zack kicked a pile of ash, making a patch of pristine white snow black.

Men holding the one spear that Zack hadn’t burned stared at him, unmoving as he approached them.

“Move aside. I need to speak with the prisoner,” Zack said.

“We only follow orders,” Zack said, spinning the fireballs in his hand. It was getting uncomfortable keeping them still all the time. We will report this to Mr. Clint,” he said.

“He already knows, but if you want to be redundant, I won’t stop you,” Zack said.

Zack’s charming personality and way of using words drew people in. He saw where they kept Gabby. It was a small, dug-out hole, primarily out of the elements. The goblin shivered and looked up at him. He jumped 8 feet into the hole, merged his fireballs into one, and let the heat wash over her.

“Gabby hates being a prisoner. What does Zack want from Gabby?”

“We’re about to leave, so I wanted to know if you wanted to prove yourself useful. We’re heading into the area you came from, so I want to know about the local wildlife in the Green Bottom.”

“Deer the size of many goblins roam the night and eat the unaware in their sleep. Large insects bite and lay their eggs in wounds. Some fruits and berries taste sweet and melt the stomachs of goblins that eat them. Gabby’s cousin Labby tried one and died screaming for Gabby to help her. Birds of ice, fire, and lightning hunt for the strong and carry them away. Gabby heard screams once from a nest, and she saw a bird coughing the half-digested living body of dragoon Nobby for its chicks to eat. They tore him apart and played with Nobby for hours before he died. The map lies. Gabby knows the trick above a certain height; monsters are no longer counted for their level. Green Bottom’s level cap is ten because nesting birds eat anything above that level.” The goblin turned her head. “Was Gabby good? Can she leave this hole?”

“Why do you always say your name and not I when you speak?” Zack asked.

“Because Gabby can always say she isn’t Gabby when something goes wrong unless she says I. Goblin trick number one, nobody is I when explaining what happened,” Gabby said.

Zack chuckled at that. It was the first genuine laugh he had since coming to Musica.

“Get on my back, and I’ll get us out of here,” Zack said.

Oh, he was sure she lied her ass off, but knowing there were deer and fruit-barring trees was good. They could watch the animals to see what was good to eat and what would put them in an early grave.

Zack still didn’t feel hungry—he hadn’t since he burned the trumpeter. This was beginning to worry him.

He felt Gabby’s sharp claws carefully avoid digging into his flesh. Was she going to go for his throat? That was a concern. If she tried, Gabby would find a fireball slamming into her face.

His worries remained unfounded. Gabby climbed onto his back and looped her arms around his neck. Zack jumped, stabbed his foot into the side of the wall, and jumped again.

A 50% boost to his body helped. He felt like a teenager instead of being in his late 20s. Zack stumbled on his second jump but got a foot on the ledge and rolled. They tumbled in the snow. Gabby found her way atop his chest and looked down at him with her large yellow eyes.

Her red hair fell over their faces as she hovered over him.

“Gabby likes that you didn’t leave her in that hole to freeze to death.”

He pushed a hand through her thick red hair and let his hand tangle in it. They should get her a comb when things calm down. With 50 men, how long would it take to rebuild society with superpowers? He assumed it depended on their environment.

Earl was a tinker who focused on androids. Once they had the materials, he was sure they could get something going. They would also need to take over the other groups while killing as few people as possible. People were a resource that they desperately needed.

Then, there was the matter of the pink dots. Were there women in the brass region? Clint had to have thought of that. He wasn’t too excited about meeting them and dealing with their entitled bullshit.

Zack liked Gabby well enough. She was a duplicitous goblin who probably lied with every breath, but that taught him a lot. All she mentioned were dangers, and they could not exist. Why worry about XP so much if having too many levels brought the predation of the birds?

When something didn’t make sense, someone was lying. The goblin's motive for trying to kill them made sense. Or did they try to kill them? Gabby put them to sleep, but they could have just as quickly chosen to enslave them. The cap was ten, so they only needed to limit them to five, and they could have many good workers.

They moved away from the others to the fire and continued speaking.

“Are there also harpies?” Zack asked.

His goblin girl nodded slowly. “Gabby’s Dragoon Tribe pays tribute to the Uranus Tribe of the Canopy. They control the birds and decide who can exist over lvl10.”

Zack was beginning to understand what was happening on a geopolitical scale. There were different groups, some more powerful than others.

“What about smiths? Do the goblins have many of those? I noticed your spear has a stone head. Do the goblins know how to produce steel?” Zack asked.

“Gabby’s tribe are dragoons, and Gabby’s Mother Ganox is from the shaman tribe.” Was that why her class was dragoon/shaman? So, classes were passed down. That was good information to have.

“Why can’t they help you against the harpies?” Zack asked.

Gabby’s words illuminated the situation. The goblins wanted to capture them for their classes, and Clint would have been the pick of the litter for the goblins.

“The Chiron Tribe of centaurs from the Gold Prairie south of the Green Bottom have dealings with the harpies. They have pledged to give one of their daughters to the tribe’s son in exchange for a defense pact.”

“Can centaurs and harpies breed,” Zack asked.

“If Zack spends a year here, he can breed with Gabby.”

“Would our children have three classes?” Zack asked.

Gabby shook her head. “Gabby’s children might inherit her classes, yours or one of yours and hers.”

“Are there no dwarves or other tribes that can make weapons out of metal?” Zack asked.

“Gabby knows of no other tribe that would for the dragoon tribe. They fear the other tribes too much.”

Zack wasn’t one for strategy, but this felt like the makings of an exciting time.