Pushing forward, Kadrin leapt toward his prey, the rats had become something worth killing, his staff raised high and glowing green. As he advanced, he swung it, unleashing a fan of ethereal daggers at the group. Thuds and cracks rang out as the large, lion-armored man met them with his shield planted firmly and securely.

  “Impressive, but a stationary defense won't protect your companions from me.”

  The fool blocked them as if they were simple projectiles. His daggers were simply a delivery method, depositing the tainted sap and locking down the largest of his prey. With his primary locked down, Kadrin decided to move on to easier prey.

  Now all he had to do was keep an eye out for the patchwork woman and that damned Star Elf. The smaller human and the otterkin were nothing. Yes, the otter-kin had magic, but her skills were clearly paltry and nothing compared to his. The human was clearly some kind of support, a healer of some kind, it seemed.

  “No further.” A stalwart, smoky voice intoned as a fist slammed into his vision.

  Abruptly throwing his head back, Kadrin feels the material of the patchwork woman's gloves caress his chin as her fist passes. He ripostes and then unleashes a double thrust with his sword. He'd met fighters like the patchwork before, the best thing to do was to match her strike for strike and overwhelm her. So he did. Every time she struck, he countered with his blade or staff. A jab was met with the deflecting crack of his staff, a searing blow to his head with a deadly slash to her neck.

  He trapped her in a stalemate where each of her killing blows was met by one of his. If she were fighting someone else, it would be a sacrificial move, trading his death for hers. Instead, for Kadrin, it was simply trading her certain death for a slightly debilitating condition for him, and his rot and decay would see him through.

  Unfortunately, she proved to be a capable fighter, standing fist to sword with him. He was a Blademaster and here was a no-name adventurer to match him, the shame of it burned him. He decided to end this. He dodged a flurry of blows from the patchwork woman, her fists cracking the air as they missed. He flicked his staff through a small circular pattern and then plunged it into her stomach, unleashing his spell and sending her flying.

  “Good riddance, I'll deal with you in a moment.”

  As he spoke, his sword arm swung back, clashing loudly as metal crashed against metal. He turned just in time to see the star elf fade back into the shadows.

  “Rogue, the cheapest and least honorable of the classes.” Kadrin muttered.

  Like a shadow, a dagger slashed at him, only to be met by his blade. A kick was turned by his staff, and more slashes were met with both. This went on and on, for thirty exchanges or more. The rogue would reveal some part of himself from the dark shadows to strike, only to be met with a counterattack. Kadrin quickly grew bored; it had seemed challenging at first, but after a few blows it became apparent that the star elf was no Shadow Master or Blade in the Dark, but simply an untitled.

  With a sigh of annoyance, Kadrin tapped his staff twice on the ground and waited for the star elf. In a moment, the man reappeared, screaming as two rotting roots covered his body and began to crush him. He watched for a moment, making sure the rogue wouldn't be able to get away easily. He sighed and stepped aside, dodging a surprise blow from a trident staff.

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  He spun and slashed, aiming to cripple the otterkin for daring to come into melee as a mage, only to be deflected by an axe head. It caught his sword and did not break. To match the magical power of his blade meant that the axe was equally powerful; intriguing.

  “How did someone like you get a weapon like that?” He mussed aloud.

  The human support stood before him, his axe tightly grasped. First a mage, now a healer, Kadrin decided to show those unfit for close combat what a master could do. So he released some of his aura, expecting it to dominate the man. As he did so, the air changed, taking on the scent of rotting wintergreens and a decaying spring.

  The otter-kin stumbled back, the star elf, somehow freed from her roots, was dropped from the shadows, and the great shieldman stopped his efforts to free himself as he struggled to breathe; all these were expected results, what was not was the healer.

  As the weakest of these adventurers, he should have been unconscious or dead, depending on how weak he was. Instead, he was fine, Kadrin could detect no change in his bearing. For all his aura had done to the man, Kadrin felt he might as well have dumped a corpse in a swamp; the man was completely unaffected.

  “You're no simple healer, are you?” Kadrin asked, where before he'd just watched the man, now he was concentrating on him. “Who and what are you?”

  “Jaeger, bounty hunter.” said the man before lowering his axe and charging.

  Jaeger watched as the Swords leader mowed through the adventurers. He paralyzed Brad with a wave of daggers, sent Emilia flying with a spell, and matched Troy blow for blow. This Kadrin was a seasoned swordsman and a skilled mage. Jaeger knew he had to enter the fray before things got worse.

  The choice was taken away from him when Sivly moved out of the man's line of sight and attempted a sneak attack. Jaeger could already see that the man knew it was coming, so he had little time. He threw himself forward, racing to Sivly as she struck. Her trident was knocked aside as he arrived, and he barely blocked the sword blow.

  “How did someone like you get a weapon like that?” said the dead-eyed bandit leader, drawing back his sword.

  The sword slash was much stronger than he'd expected, and even though he caught it this time, he felt his bones creak and his skin crack from the strain. He needed a plan. From everything he'd seen so far, he knew that Kadrin was the superior fighter; his movements alone held an edge that spoke of competence and confidence. This was why he'd quit being a soldier, you never knew who was a secret Blademaster and who was just a peasant conscript.

  As if to emphasize this point, an oppressive aura began to emanate from the Blademaster. With it came a sensation, deep, savage winters and abundant, excessive springs. Except they were wrong, the cold and desolation of a deep winter was accompanied by rot; the feeling of wood unfit to provide fire, infested with death instead. Spring's rebirth and harvest were overshadowed by decay; still births and harvests filled with sickly sweet poison.

  Jaeger was overwhelmed by these sensations, they were smells, tastes, feelings and more. He stood frozen, watching those around him falter. Sivly fell back and went to her knees, Troy reappeared only to vomit bile and fade out, while Brad seemed to struggle to simply breathe. Jaeger watched them react, feeling himself grow weaker with each moment.

  Until something within him awoke, a rustle and rattling deep within him as chains shot forth. They wrapped around the invading aura, taking it and binding it tightly within the man before sinking back into him.

  He felt a relief as a weight was lifted from him, but where the almost physical sensation of weight was removed, a new weight replaced it. The cold, intense stare of death as Kadrin eyed down at him.

  “You’re not as simple as you seem? Who and what are you?”

  Jaeger prepared himself as he replied.

  “Jaeger, bounty hunter.”

  Then he charged.