Jace checked the global time as they materialized outside of Safe Haven.  It was nearing midnight.  Even though his team had just eaten breakfast a few hours ago, the quest they had just completed left everyone feeling drained, and he saw an opportunity to steal some time back from the game.  First, he needed to see Draya.  Psycho didn’t know where Captain Renald Malcom had taken her, so Snowy led the way.  The wolf had smelled the dragon mage on Serenity after she had suffered the demon fire, and the scent in the air was as strong as if a pile of rotting elven corpses lay on the city's edge.

The streets were mostly quiet, only PCs moving about in the late hour.  When visiting this friendly city, Jace usually changed into his human disguise, but he didn’t bother.  By now, everyone already knew who he was, and from the looks the other players gave the orc as he strolled purposefully after Snowy, they all likely knew why he was there.

After a few minutes of walking along the darkened streets, the wolf led the characters to a large temple off the main road.  Several characters waited outside and parted to allow the visitors to enter.  Once inside the candlelit building, another sizeable crowd stood before them, and Jace felt confident most of them were players.

“Jace Thorne,” one of them said.  He wore priestly robes and a concerned expression.  At the name of the famous player they had all been waiting for, the group parted and gave the orc access to the center of the room where Draya lay motionless on a raised stone altar.

“My name is Solomon,” the priest said.  “It is an honor.  We’ve tried everything.  Nothing seems to heal her.  The demon that attacked her is more powerful than any of us.”

Draya lay motionless with seven hit points.  Jace and his crew had leveled up to 18, and the young woman’s number should have gone up as well now that they were in range of each other, but she was still stuck at 17.  She wore rolled leggings and a loose shirt pulled up past her navel.  Jace knew these were the clothes she typically wore under her cursed dress.  The exposed skin allowed him to see black lines crisscrossing her body as if someone had tried to pull her veins out like stubborn roots of a massive weed and then hastily stuffed them back in under her skin.

Behind her, a man matching Renald’s description stood beside a female elven knight.  The rest of the crowd mostly looked like priests and druids.  He imagined word had gone out that one of Jace’s crew was hurt, and anyone able to help could come and try.  He was glad to see he was popular enough to warrant spontaneous aid.  Jace turned to Psycho. “Are you ready to tell me what happened?”

“I don’t know,” Psycho said. “We went down to Shelah’s kingdom so Gromphy could access their mana core. He needed to . . .” The elf trailed off. He didn’t really understand what Gromphy had been doing.

“I needeth a source of cold,” Gromphy said, stepping into the ring of characters centered on Jace and Draya.  “The mage hath tamed the Frosthold previously; I assumed she would possess the strength to do so once more.  I was in error.”

Jace had too many questions and only cared about how to help Draya.  “Cold did this to her?”

“No,” Gromphy said.  “Her dragon fire shouldst hath stayed off the cold, but it did not function underwater.”

“So she used demon fire?” Jace asked.  “How would she have access to that?”

No one answered.  He turned to Psycho again.  “You said ‘We’ went down to this merkingdom.  Who was with you?”

“Just me, Gromphy, Shelah, Red, and, uh, Ellenay.”  His eyes went to the beautiful elf standing beside Renald.

“Do you have any ideas?” he asked toward the female.  Ellenay shook her head.

“What about her dress?” Jace asked.  She wasn’t wearing it anymore.  “Isn’t it cursed by a demon?”  He looked around at the gathered crowd.  “How did you remove it?”

“It wasn’t cursed when she came in here,” someone said.  “We detected nothing besides the protection spells.”

Jace looked down at his goblin crafter, who displayed a puzzled expression.  “May I have it?” he asked.  The magical garment lay on a table outside the ring of people, and someone fetched it for Gromphy.  “Tis true,” he said after a brief inspection.  “The curse I hath bestowed upon it has fled.  That shouldst not be possible.”

“Could she have summoned demon fire through that link?” Jace asked.

Gromphy shook his head.  “Nay, the being linked to the dress only proffered mage fire.  Demonic fire was beyond him.”

“If the dress was linked to Hades,” Solomon said, “she could have reached beyond the minor demon your crafter used.”

Someone else gasped. “If the link was strong,” they said, “she could have pulled power from anyone.”

“Or anything,” someone else said as the gallery of experienced players began to brainstorm.

“Demon fire wouldn’t be affected by water.”

“But it should have killed her if she wasn’t in service to the source.”

“It looks like it nearly did.”

“But who was the source?  What demon did she steal power from?”

“I don’t care,” Jace interrupted.  “How do we cast it out of her?”

“I can help.”  Jace turned to see Wallace push her way to the altar's edge.  She held her demon-bane, level 10, +5, vorpal blade.  “Who has the best Holy Fire spell?” she asked the gathering.

They murmured amongst themselves until Solomon stepped forward.  “I probably do.”  He was level 18.  “But I’ve already tried it, and it hasn’t had an effect.”

“Cast everything you have into this sword,” Wallace said, offering him the blade.

“I don’t have much left,” he said timidly, not yet accepting the weapon.

“Drink this,” Gromphy said, stealing the priest's attention. He handed the priest a bottle filled with vibrant blue liquid. Jace guessed it was a mana restoration potion. These were supposed to be extremely hard to craft, and characters could only carry one at a time. Gromphy produced them like a magician pulling coins from a child’s ear.

Solomon took the offered vial tentatively.  He could sell it for a fortune but knew that wasn’t an option right now.  Solomon downed the drink, and his posture straightened visibly.  He reached for Wallace’s sword, but Gromphy interrupted him and handed the priest another vial.  “Nay, thou shalt need this as well.”  The second concoction looked as if it had been brewed from starlight.  It shone with such intense white light that everyone stepped back and shielded their eyes.

“What will it . . .” Solomon started to ask.

“Drink it!” Gromphy insisted.

The priest obeyed, downing the glowing liquid in one swig.  Light poured down upon him like a waterfall, overwhelming the meager candlelight and illuminating the room as if the full moon had taken up residency inside the small temple.  Once the characters had blinked away the spots from their eyes, they all looked back at the priest and stood in awe.  He seemed mostly unchanged, except where there had been an 18 hanging above his head, a brilliant 30 now pulsed like a sun about to go supernova.

Solomon’s eyes were rolled up into his inventory to look at a character sheet he couldn’t have imagined in his wildest dreams.  “Make haste, foolish priest!” Gromphy scolded him.  “It lasts for but two rounds.”

The player obeyed and left his inventory, took Wallace’s vorpal sword, and cast his beefed-up spell on the weapon, using his All-In option to drain his recently filled mana pool.  The sword absorbed it all and took on a powerful white glow, as if it were made of glass with all the night’s stars trapped inside.  Wallace took it back, gingerly reversed her grip on the sword, and poised it over Draya’s still form.  Jace put a hand on her shoulder.  “Won’t it kill her?”

“Trust me,” the paladin said and stabbed down with all her might before Jace could stop her.  The sword pierced the woman’s chest and sunk deep into the stone beneath her.  Her health dropped to zero in a flash, but Wallace released the weapon to place a hand on Draya’s shoulder, casting her Lay-On-Hands ability to send it over 100.  No one had been able to bring her hit points above seven before this.  Whatever demon kept her near death now had something else to worry about.

Everyone stood back and watched the weapon pulse and thrum with power.  If the sword had captured the starry sky's essence, now, each star fled from the blade one by one, penetrating the woman’s body.  The energy flowed along her scars, healing and restoring her smooth, light brown skin.  The transformative process took several seconds, and the sword resumed its usual color by the end.  Draya’s body looked as good as new, save for a streak of black through her red hair.

Her eyes fluttered.

Before the young woman tried to sit up and found a blade piercing her navel, Wallace removed it and stowed the sword on her hip.  Her exposed stomach didn’t even have a scratch where the weapon had struck.

Psycho pushed past Jace to stand beside her, feeling guilty for having almost lost the young woman while he had been in charge.  “Red, uh, Draya,” he said, trying to make his gruff voice as soothing as possible.  “Are you okay?”  From the other side of the altar, Ellenay leaned in and put a calming hand on the woman, adding her own healing to bring the mage back to full health.

Draya’s eyes opened, and she regarded the two elves looking down on her with confusion.  “Wh-where am I?  Wh-what happened?”

“What do you remember last?” Jace asked, stepping up behind Psycho, his orc form looming large.

“Jace?” Draya replied, sitting up sharply. He understood the last thing she would have remembered was being on a mission with Psycho. Jace hadn’t been there, nor had the collection of other players that crowded around her. The mage’s eyes met theirs, and she felt suddenly exposed. Her fight-fitting underclothes were tame by ROI standards, but the modest young woman blushed and yanked down on her rolled-up shirt. “Where is my dress?”

Gromphy said nothing and offered it up.  He was too short to reach above the altar, so Jace took it and handed it to the young woman.  In six seconds, Draya was dressed appropriately and standing beside the altar.  “Where am I?” she asked again, strength returning to her voice.

Jace looked around at the crowd, wondering if he wanted this conversation in a public setting.  “You were hurt badly,” Jace said.  “Demon fire.”

At those words, realization flashed across Draya’s face, and she became even more withdrawn.  “It’s over now,” Jace said, stepping closer to add his support.  “It’s time to go home.  We can talk about it in the morning.”  He offered his hand to the mage, and she took it, drawing herself toward the protective presence of her leader.  Jace took a moment to look around at the rest of his crew.  Esther had remained silent through the encounter and had managed to carve out a few feet of space against the PCs crowding around her.  Gromphy hated being out in public and looked eager to leave.  Psycho looked less ready and exchanged glances with the paladin across the altar.

“Is there anything else we need to do?” Jace asked, directing the question at the ranger.

Psycho knew where he was needed.  “No,” he said, casting one more look at Ellenay.  Jace saw understanding pass between them.  They would find time after this mission to meet again.  “I’m good.  We can go.”

Once again, the crowd parted for them, and Jace led Draya and the rest of his companions out of the temple and back into the street.  Wallace and Thursa were waiting for them.  The Paladin had made herself scarce after banishing the demon, giving Jace the access he needed with Draya.  “Thank you,” Jace said, nodding in appreciation to Wallace.  “If none of them could heal her, I don’t know if there was anything I could have done either.  In our constant back and forth, I don’t know if this means we are even or if I owe you one.”

“Let’s assume it is the latter,” she said with a smile.

Jace chuckled and thought that was it, but a hint of pensive anxiety lingered in the paladin’s eyes, and he hesitated.  He wanted nothing more than to get his crew back to his stronghold and put Draya to bed; however, if there was something quick he could do for his friend, he was willing to hear her out.  “What is it?”

Wallace looked at Thursa and then back at Jace.  “My friend here is at level 15, which is where he was when I got him.  Now, I am at level 15 as well.  If I keep going, I will leave him in the dust.  Is there anything in your bag of tricks to fix that?”

Jace cocked his head.  Gromphy and Psycho were at level 20 and couldn’t go higher.  In most situations, it gave him a bonus, as Jace had been much below that for most of the game.  Now, he was level 18, and their level restriction might become a liability before too long.  He hadn’t thought about how to fix it, but . . . there might be a way.

“I think so,” Jace said. “But we need to leave the city first.”

Wallace nodded and fell in line behind Jace’s party as they walked through the quiet streets and back toward the travel node.  The orc shaman continued past the wooden post several dozen feet until he was notified that he was entering a Non-PVP, level 5, Hostile zone.  With Psycho and Snowy with him, he didn’t fear anything sneaking up on them in the dark.

“NPCs can still attack in Non-PVP zones, right?” Jace asked, directing the question inward.

{Yes,} Gracie said.  {Wallace can’t attack you here, but anyone else can.}

“Psycho,” Jace said, pulling the ranger’s attention from surveying the barren landscape around them.  “Lend Thursa your elemental bow for a moment, along with a normal arrow.”

Psycho looked at his boss, puzzled. “I don’t think he will be able to . . .”

“I know,” Jace cut him off.  “Just do it.”

The archer did as asked, and the human druid took the weapon gingerly.  “I’ve never used a bow before,” Thursa said.

“I’m counting on it,” Jace replied, stepping deeper into the sparse brush until he was almost invisible in the shadows.  “Try to hit me anyway.”

Thursa fumbled with the weapon, drawing a chuckle from Esther.  She raced over to help him.  Jace didn’t think she had ever fired a bow before either, but the woman wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to snuggle up close to the shirtless man and put her hands all over him.  After a few clumsy attempts, including trying to load the arrow backward at one point, Thursa had the bow up with the arrow pointed in the general direction of his target.

Jace saw the man squint into the darkness.  “I can’t even see you.  It would be better if I changed into a black bear.”

“No,” Jace replied.  “Do it like this.  Trust me, I won’t be harmed; it will be for your own good.”  The druid shrugged and pulled back on the string.  Jace Stood His Ground.

With no skill with the weapon and half a dozen banes working against him, it wasn’t surprising that the shot went wide of Jace’s position.  Because his attacker missed him (by a lot) while Jace Stood His Ground, he got to activate his favorite unique ability: Convict.  As soon as the arrow flew by, Thursa’s character sheet flashed up before Jace’s vision, but this was a different version than the one typically seen by players.  He had access to the druid’s alignment, race, deity, and several other things only seen at player creation.  In the past, he had always made changes in the middle of combat or some other hectic situation.  Now, he took his time, looking for something he never thought about changing.

After a few seconds, he found what he was after: [Level Lock: 15].  Jace guessed Gandhi would only give him six seconds to make any change, and he hastily scrolled through a few options.  He could Level Lock Thursa at 20, but he didn’t think Wallace wanted that.  Instead, he removed the lock and changed his leveling attribute to “Advance with Player.”

Immediately after the change, Jace’s vision returned to his surroundings, and he saw Esther laughing at how far off Thursa had been.  “Then you try it!” he growled, shoving the bow at the woman.  She scampered back, wanting nothing to do with the weapon.  Psycho stepped in and retrieved it.

Jace checked levels, saw that Thursa was still at 15, and hoped it worked.  He turned to Wallace.  “I think I fixed it,” he said.

“How?” she asked, bewildered by what she had just seen.  “How did Thursa missing you by a mile allow you to change his settings?”  She paused.  “Is it a Stand Your Ground feat?” she asked as a light went on in her eyes.  “Is that how you changed Esther?”

Jace smiled.  “You don’t get to know all my tricks.  We are definitely square now.”

Wallace shrugged.  “If you say so.”

Jace returned to the main group and led his crew to the travel node. Esther said goodbye to Thursa, and they all left for the stronghold.