Zap sipped his drink and waited.

  He had found a civilian tavern in the Low District and had tweaked his illusion spell to better blend in.

  Unfortunately, his seven foot plus height wasn’t easy to conceal, and working attire was the best he could manage.

  He knew he stood out, but hoped he would get at least a modicum of privacy while he waited for his contact.

  “Hey! You! The big one! Looking for a job?”

  Zap turned to glare at the man who was calling to him from the bar.

  “Not interested,” he growled, turning away.

  He heard the man get up and walk his way and debated hitting him with a Stunbolt, but held back for the moment.

  A hand landed roughly on his shoulder and he felt the urge to rip it off.

  “Hey, listen to me when I’m talking to you!”

  Zap stood without bothering to move his chair or the table.

  The table skidded forward, and he turned to face the man.

  About to speak, he stopped.

  There was something wrong here.

  He’s spent more time around magic than most and knew a cheap illusion when he saw it.

  Though, to call the hundreds, if not thousands of gold, even a cheap illusion enchantment would cost, it was safe to say he was dealing with something shadier.

  He studied the much shorter man. He looked the part, but the details were imperfect. His skin was unblemished, with no pores or discolorations, and his hair didn’t move when he moved.

  No, it was too bad a job even for a rank one enchantment. A tier one spell then, he thought.

  Deciding to hold off on finding the caster, he stared at the man.

  “What’s the pay and what’s the job?” he growled.

  The man grinned at him.

  “That’s better. The pay is good. And the job is muscle.”

  Zap’s frown deepened.

  “I already have a job as muscle. What’s this one? Guarding, collecting…?”

  The man’s smile broadened.

  “A spot has opened for a new group to work out of the city, and I’m putting together said group.”

  He held up a hand to forestall any objections.

  “And don’t worry. I’ve already got the magic part covered. Now, I just need to round out the group a bit.”

  Zap’s interest dropped. A little fish.

  He scanned the area to see who was paying attention to their conversation and spotted them immediately.

  At a small table against the back wall of the tavern, a thin man was sweating, face creased in concentration.

  Around him were three rough-looking men, paying more attention to their ales than the situation unfolding before them.

  “Let’s go talk to your group,” he growled.

  Taking the man by the wrist, he walked over to the table.

  He saw the thin man’s eyes widen, and the caster pointed a finger at him.

  “Sleep!”

  Zap felt the magic hit him and dissipate against his will.

  “Pathetic.”

  The three rough-looking men attempted to get up from their seats, but he stopped them by simply pushing the heavy wood table into them and pinning them against the wall.

  All four men cried out in pain, and Zap felt something strike him.

  “What?!” the man exclaimed.

  With one hand still holding the table in place, he turned.

  The recruiter had pulled out a dagger and attempted to stab him, but it had bounced harmlessly off his armor.

  Zap tossed the leader of the group at the other men, then pointed his own finger at each one.

  “Zap. Zap. Zap…”

  He hit each with a stun bolt and all five slumped over.

  Sensing a presence behind him, he turned to see a bear of a man standing a few feet away with his hands held up.

  “It’s okay. I’m the owner.”

  Zap nodded.

  “Call the guards. Tell them these five were starting a new bandit group. Also, make sure they check for bounties. I’m pretty sure that the one on top of the others is a wanted man, if not all of them.”

  The owner of the tavern nodded and moved to obey, but Zap stopped him.

  “Tell ‘em whatever you like, but keep me out of it. You can have whatever bounty is on them.”

  The tavern owner nodded his understanding, then pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

  “There’s an exit behind the bar.”

  Zap gave a nod and made his way out.

  He’d have to get word to his contact to meet him somewhere else.

  Exiting into the alley behind the bar, Zap stopped and stared at the man leaning against the wall.

  “Have fun?” the rogue asked.

  “No. Not really. When did you get here, Dirk?”

  Dirk grinned at him.

  “A little before everything went off inside.”

  Zap’s enhanced hearing heard a familiar buzz, and he reached over and opened the door to the tavern, where a lone bee flew out and landed on the rogue’s shoulder.

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

  “You and your bees,” Zap sighed.

  “Don’t listen to him, Buzzarella. He’s just jealous that he doesn’t have a companion.”

  Zap scoffed.

  “Buzzarella? Really? That’s the best you could come up with?”

  Dirk pulled his cloak aside, and the bee flew from his shoulder and into the small metal bee-box he wore on his hip.

  Dirk sat on a trashcan and looked him over.

  “Still wearing the illusion spell, I see. Tell me, are you grumpy-Zap or friendly-Zap these days?”

  “This again?”

  The rogue shrugged.

  “I thought it was really sweet. You’d just come back from the border war and said, I’m going to be a new person. Being angry all the time is tiring.”

  Zap pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “That was over 300 years ago, and it only lasted a few weeks!”

  Dirk shook his head.

  “I thought it was great. Big bad Zap could rest a bit. Maybe pick up a hobby. Did you ever take a crafting skill?”

  “Yeah. Took the cooking skill.”

  Dirk waited, but he could see his old teammate wasn’t in a talkative mood.

  “Alright, we’ll skip the conversation for now. We can catch up later.”

  A runed wooden box appeared in his hands and he held it out to Zap.

  “I found her hiding spot. She had a pretty sweet setup with a marvelous view of the night sky. And best of all, free rent.”

  Zap opened the box and examined the contents.

  Inside were two pictures torn from books.

  One was of a knight on a horse, the other a princess holding her hand out to a flying bird.

  He examined the pictures and placed them carefully back inside the box, then took out the last item, a teddy bear with an eye missing.

  He examined the bear. It had seen some hard times.

  Fitting, he thought.

  “Get the bear to Jewel and have her do her magic.”

  Dirk nodded.

  “What about the pictures? I can feel the sympathetic connection coming from them as well.”

  “Get them cleaned up and framed. If the girl’s alive, it’ll be nice to bring her a present.”

  Smiling, Dirk took the box back and stored it in his ring.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  The rogue looked up at the stars, then back to Zap.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that me and Jewel would be in the area right when you need us?”

  Zap was about to wave it away, but stopped.

  “Actually, no. There’s a focal point and the start of a new era.”

  Sighing, Zap leaned heavily against the wall.

  “The System’s paying attention again and getting involved. We’ll need to be careful not to screw this up, or we’ll end up with another Trandaril.”

  Dirk nodded, his face serious.

  “We were young then. Inexperienced and stupid. This time, we’ll do what’s necessary.”

  Zap straightened and placed a hand on his old teammate’s shoulder.

  “I know.”

  With a Guild salute, Dirk turned and jogged out of the alley, his body nearly translucent and barely noticeable.

  Zap watched him go, then summoned a necklace to his hand and placed it over his head.

  The stone glowed with a soft golden light, and he pulled up the Party Map, observing his old team.

  He noted that their stats, like his own, were mostly maxed out, and was pleased to see some new additions since their last adventure.

  He felt something then. Something old, yet familiar.

  With a wide smile, he summoned his old gauntlets to his hands and studied them.

  The runes glowed with power and called to him.

  It had been far too long since he’d had the opportunity to use them.

  Soon, he thought.

  ***

  Forge watched as Falcon peeked out from behind her magic barrier and scanned the area.

  “Target. Blue.” Cinder sent him.

  Forge looked at the dragon.

  “Are you saying Falcon is targeting blue, or I should target blue?” he sent back.

  “You.”

  “Got it, relay Falcon.”

  “Yes.”

  He fired a tier two Firebolt at the blue target. As it hit, an arrow struck a nearby red target simultaneously.

  The momentary wave of dizziness that hit him from the spell faded quickly as he resumed cover.

  He looked down at the small dragon, whose face was a picture of concentration.

  “Launch. Gideon,” Cinder sent.

  He heard the heavy footsteps of the swordsman coming in quickly from behind him.

  “Launch him where?” he sent the dragon.

  Preparing for the move, he summoned his magma tentacles and coated them fully in black slag.

  “Blue.”

  “Got it. Relay back,” he sent.

  His tentacles rested on the floor, and as the swordsman reached them, he launched him by his feet into the air at the blue target.

  The swordsman’s upward diagonal flight ended with him spearing the scorched blue target, only to be left dangling twenty feet up by the sword’s hilt.

  “Stop! Regroup!” Falcon called out.

  Gideon dropped to the floor and looked up at his sword, which was firmly stuck in the target.

  “I got it,” Forge said.

  He wrapped a tentacle around the hilt of the sword and pulled it out smoothly, then handed it to the swordsman.

  The look of concern on Gideon’s face as he studied the hilt and guard for any damage would have been comical if the group hadn’t been bone tired.

  “It’s fine. I didn’t burn your sword,” Forge said, dismissing his magma tentacles.

  Gideon nodded absently and re-sheathed the blade.

  “I was just making sure.”

  “You didn’t check your boots for damage after he launched you,” Lioness said, walking up to the pair.

  “I can replace my boots. I can’t replace the sword. And until I bind it, I don’t know what enchantment is on it. If it has a repair enchantment like Forge’s stuff, it’ll be fine. If not, I can’t exactly replace it,” Gideon replied, glaring at the cleric.

  “Alright. That’s enough,” Falcon ordered.

  She looked at the party and sighed.

  “Two things. One: Forge, you need to launch Gideon in an arc, so he can slash the target. Two: We need to come up with a better way for Cinder to relay the information. There’s too much confusion in how he words things.”

  Now it was Cinder’s turn to glare as he stood up and cross his arms.

  While Forge saw Cinder’s true form, thanks to his mask, he knew the rest of the group were seeing a cat.

  Falcon laughed.

  “I’m sorry. I can’t take you seriously when you stand like that.”

  Interested in how he looked as a cat in that position, Forge removed his mask.

  It was just in time to see Cinder launch himself into the air and breathe out a 60-foot cone of blue flame that engulfed both the red and blue targets.

  Cinder then turned and flew directly into his chest, going into his soul space.

  Forge crossed his own arms and regarded the ranger.

  “He’s just a baby, and he’s trying his best.”

  Gideon looked from the burning targets back down to Falcon.

  “You shouldn’t hurt the feelings of dragons. You probably should remember that.”

  He paused in thought, then beamed.

  “You could get that tattooed on you! Complete with a picture of a cat crossing his arms and glaring at you!”

  He turned to Lioness.

  “Please tell me you could do that.”

  The cleric smiled mischievously.

  “Oh, I absolutely could. Forge, write that down on our to-do list and I’ll start working on it immediately.”

  “We could be Team Angry Cat,” Gideon said.

  Lioness nodded.

  “I could design tattoos, maybe a flag…”

  “Good thinking! Merchandizing! Imagine Team Angry Cat mugs in every tavern in the Kingdom,” Gideon agreed.

  Falcon groaned. Then, remembering her spell, dismissed the magic wall she had used as cover, the strain on her mana gate dissipating.

  “If you’re all done being stupid…”

  Gideon shook his head.

  “I had more. But you go ahead.”

  She fixed him with a glare.

  “We’ll continue to use the hand signals for now and we’ll work with Cinder to come up with a better relay code.”

  Taking a sip from her waterskin, she gestured to Forge.

  “Can he hear me from in there?”

  Forge nodded, and she stepped close, her face nearly touching his chest.

  “Cinder, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re adorable and I’m tired. We all are.”

  “Dragon. Not Cat,” Cinder sent to everyone.

  Forge cleared his throat.

  “You know, he can hear you fine since he’s telepathic. You don’t need to talk into my chest.”

  Falcon looked up at him, her face turning red.

  Gideon snorted a laugh, and Lioness began giggling behind her hands.

  Falcon straightened up and took a nonchalant pose.

  “Everyone, get some sleep. We meet at the Sturtevant estate at 6 AM sharp.”

  Turning to Forge, she mouthed the words: ‘talk to him, please’.

  Trying to suppress the grin that threatened to erupt, Forge nodded.

  “Uh…he can see through my eyes when he’s in his soul space,” Forge said.

  Falcon tossed her hands in the air.

  “Fine! Great! I’m just going to go find a cliff to jump off of.”

  She started walking to the training room’s exit and called out over her shoulder.

  “Get some rest. Don’t be late. Go Team Angry Cat…” she yelled as she hurried out the door.

  Forge shrugged at his teammates.

  “I’ll talk to Cinder.”

  The group made their way out of the room.

  “How is this room so much bigger on the inside than the outside?” Forge asked.

  “Magic? System foolery?” Gideon offered.

  “Sure, let’s go with that. I wonder if we can get it done in our own house.” Forge said.

  “Doubtful. I’ve been to the Capital Palace, and they don’t have a dimensional space like this. I think it’s Guild only. The same way that the Guild is the only one that can provide realm rings.”

  “I’ll ask the guildmaster the next time I see him,” Forge said.

  The group shared a last goodbye, then headed off to their individual Guild rooms.

  Finally alone, Forge concentrated on Cinder.

  “Are you upset that you appear to be a cat?”

  “Yes. No.”

  “Well, when you get bigger, we’ll see if we can get the enchantment to make you look like a humanoid. Okay, buddy?”

  “Okay,” Cinder replied.

  Forge stopped for a moment.

  “Cinder, are you okay? You sound a little strange.”

  “Sleepy.”

  The ramifications of the statement struck him.

  “Oh. Are you going to be sleeping soon?”

  “Soon.”

  “Do you need to eat more gold before you sleep?”

  The dragon’s voice took on a more upbeat tone.

  “Yes!”

  Grinning, Forge nodded as he resumed his walk back to his room.

  “I’ll set out some gold for you when we get back.”

  “Thank. You.”

  Forge laughed.

  “You’re a good dragon.”

  “I. Yes!”

  Still laughing, he reached his room and let himself in.

  Tomorrow should be interesting, he thought.