Zel was a willowy woman. Her body moved gracefully when she did. Her face was animated when she laughed or talked, and her voice was taunting and easy, like a bite you didn’t want to stop. She grinned, gesturing for him to sit with her. The table was crowded. She looked up at Callen and pointed at a chair pulled out for him. Sam sensed a strain between them, a tension. Callen ignored her seat, choosing instead to take one closer but away from her group. Zel chuckled as if she’d expected that. She sat down, gesturing to the others around her table. There were two others.

  “Lam,” Zel said as a way of introduction. Lam was a dirty-faced man with short rusty hair. His mustache was unusually thin, and he had a small bottle of something red in front of him, a quarter gone. He smiled, nodding to Sam. “Lam controls our CragDrones. He is our main range damage dealer.” She pointed to the other man, this one almost as slim as her. He had leaned back on his seat when Sam walked in, his arms folded over his chest. He stared at Sam, as though searching for something within him. Zel called him Drill.

  “Drill is plenty prolific with the sword,” Zel said. Drill grinned. He had almost as much hair on his head as Lam, but well shaved, neat, and dark. His eyes were painted black to make the grey of his pupils sharper, coming out like small discs of silver. He gave Sam a quick nod and Sam returned it. He turned to Zel last, but she was not done. She pointed to Callen, who had gotten a cup of something warm from a squat serving girl.

  “That is Callen. Or One-armed Callen as Lam likes to call him,” Zel said. “Not super good at anything except being the city’s half-man, half iron. His arm gives him some advantage, but what you want to look out for is his constant sneer. He stares at everyone like they are filth and he is the pristine pile of shit dropped from heaven.” Zel grinned, leaning back, a satisfied smile on her face. The entire tavern was quiet, waiting.

  “I’d cut you down, Zel, but I won’t,” Callen said. “Are we going or not? I have things to do.”

  “You mean fawn over Rosaria?” Lam asked and Callen stood lightning fast. His short blade hissed out of the sheath strapped to his waist, resting against Lam’s throat. Lam grinned, nodding to where Drill’s dagger was pointed at the space between Callen’s legs. Zel laughed, her eyes burning with wildness. The other patrons in the tavern stared, some frozen in the motion of having a drink. Sam’s heart raced. He was the weakest here.

  “Your group is the worst of the hunter bunch, you know that?” Callen asked with restrained rage in his eyes. Sam realized Rosaria had been wrong. The boy didn’t just have trust issues. There was something wrong with him, as though he carried a deep grudge for the world. He made a mental note to ask Wexi about him later.

  But something else caught Sam’s eyes. Callen's arm was out, and Sam realized he’d been right before. The whole of his left hand was made from some kind of brown, polished metal. The fingers were made to look like actual fingers, but thicker, and tiny spaces showed a turning mechanism at the joints. Even though they moved, they did it silently. Sam wanted to take a closer look, but he knew the man wouldn’t like that.

  “You lash out so easily,” Zel said. “Like a child. You wear the city’s squad uniforms, which makes it even sadder.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “No fun in this anymore. Drill, we have a job. Let’s get to it.”

  Drill’s dagger vanished and Lam’s fingers pushed Callen's blade away. They stood up as Zel went over to the tavern owner. Sam heard her apologizing before she paid him with a small pouch. She came back with a smile, gesturing them out of the place. Callen scowled at Sam.

  “You are the reason I am here. I don’t care if you die where we are going, but it would be better if you don’t.”

  “I wasn’t planning to,” Sam said, but Callen was already marching past him. Lam tossed a thin sheet armor and a rifle to Sam. Drill gave him a small blade the size of his arm. Its hilt was covered in plain leather, but the blade looked good enough. He brought it up as they walked outside. An idea came to him and he acted on it without thinking. He stopped, lifted the blade, and used his appraisal skill on it.

  [Weapon appraisal]

  Basic sword [common]:

  ---Low damage weapon.

  ---Low endurance weapon

  ---Low-rank craftsmanship

  Weapon integrity: %30

  Sam did the same for the armor and rifle too. The rifle was a bit better, but only because of the low-grade rune stone which was set to shape the output into fire blasts. He couldn’t switch the mode like Quentin had done to increase output though. Which made it even more frustrating. Outside, Lam helped him get the armor. The rifle was heavy, but Sam had enough points in his strength attribute to lug it around.

  They walked quickly to where Zel called the drop point. Callen hissed as he strapped himself to the ropes over the railing. It was attached to the wall of the building behind them. Sam couldn’t see through the filthy round glass at the top of the door, but there were a lot of scraps outside. This time Drill helped him get attached to the ropes. He smelled considerably better than Lam and liked to smile a lot. Sam’s heart was rattled in his chest. He walked to the edge and peered down the distance. He closed his eyes, trying one of his mind games to calm his racing heart. When he opened his eyes again, Zel was leaping off the rail and diving down. She laughed as she fell and Sam confirmed that these people were crazy.

  “Why can’t she use the elevator system?” Sam asked. They all turned to look at him with confused frowns. Sam waved and pointed at the pulley system that moved around the city.

  “There is no fun in that,” Lam said, his eyes red and unsteady. He climbed onto the other side of the rail, spread his hands, and fell back. Drill went next, guffawing as he fell. Sam moved away from the rail until the rope snagged him back. Callen pulled him back to the rail, his face hard.

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  “I don’t know how you got close to Wexi,” Callen said, still holding the rope. “But you shouldn’t do that with Rosaria.” He leaned over the edge, looking down. “You won’t break your neck, which is probably what many Forgers are hoping for.”

  Sam held tightly to the rail, climbing over to the other side. Wind swept against his face and he felt a slight shiver go through him. He’d pull back if he could, but he didn’t want to. He had to face whatever difficulty this new world threw at him. Even if it was jumping from an insane height. Callen hissed behind him, but Sam ignored the man. Instead, he focused on preparing himself. He counted to three and let go on two. Everything happened so fast that Sam didn’t see or notice any of it—only the sensation of falling and his loud cry. Then he came to a stop and hands grabbed him fast. Drill unhooked him and Zel set him upright. Sam pushed them off him, rushing to throw up in a corner. Drill laughed and Lam laughed harder.

  “We thought you wouldn’t be coming,” Zel said. She pointed to Drill and he tossed her an iron seed.

  “You just got me an iron seed, Outworlder. I hope you haven’t emptied yourself. You will need the strength.”

  Callen came down deftly, hanging a couple of feet from the ground. He let Drill hold him still while he unhooked himself. Zel hissed, turning away from them. Sam hadn’t seen the sword strung across her back before, but it looked different. He realized with a startling shock that he was probably the only one with a basic-grade weapon. Two straight blades were sheathed on either side of Drill's waist. He looked badass with his finger-open gloves and jacket. Lam had a large barreled rifle across his back and a large sack that Sam assumed contained the drones. He couldn’t wait to see those.

  Callen was the most equipped. His mechanized arm gave him an added advantage and he had a rifle like Sam’s hanging from his left shoulder. A fine hilted straight blade was strapped to his left hip too.

  “We have to go before the smaller monsters around come,” Zel said. “Outworlder, no one is going to stop until we get to the mountain path. We stop and we will have to waste our time fighting other monsters and wild beasts. I don’t have the time to waste. You stop and we will leave you behind.”

  Sam nodded and Zel gave him a sympathetic smile.

  “What are we going to hunt?” Callen asked. “I was simply supposed to follow the Outworlder, but I would like to know what we are going to better prepare myself.”

  Zel stared at him, perhaps considering if he was worth talking to. Then she nodded.

  “Krilig,” Zel said, and from Callen’s wide-eyed response, Sam could tell it was dangerous. But Zel wasn’t waiting, she broke into a run and Drill followed. Lam turned to look at Sam and then followed her too. The sun wasn’t as hot down here as it was up there, but Sam still felt it. He caught Callen staring and stared back.

  “You might die this time,” Callen said and then he broke into a run. Sam joined him. First in a slow jog and then he saw something move out of a jutting, sharp-end rock and he pushed harder, speeding up to Callen’s tail. The last time Sam was down the canyon had gone well at first but ended terribly. This was almost the same. Running was not as difficult as it’d been before Sam appeared in this world. Essence filled him up, reducing the fatigue build-up. He ran hard, feeling the wind whip against his face. Zel led their line, followed closely by Drill who Sam thought was staying back out of respect.

  The ground was hard and flat, except where Sam could see clear lines of cracks. Then they ended at a field of stones, rocks stretching out like jagged limbs. And boulders, hewn by the whims of changing weather and time. They ran west, banking deeper, following Zel’s lead. Sam wondered how she navigated; everything looked the same to him. Except for the mountains.

  They ran through a small storm of golden dust—only coming to a stop when they had to jump over a small chasm that tore deep into the ground. Sam noted scraggly animals, some watching them go quietly while others growled. They were dark, with dull leathery skin. They didn’t attack. Whether out of fear or caution, Sam couldn’t tell. Zel led them farther, her legs faster, and her pace consistent.

  They reached the leaning mountains just before the sun started to sink behind the heap of rock. They stood outside, breathing hard. There was a calm to Zel and Drill, while Lam laid on his back, breaths audible. Callen was just as affected, but none of them had it as bad as Sam. His chest burned. Many times he had almost passed out on the way. He closed his eyes, hating the swimming colors that crowded his vision.

  “So weak,” Callen said, finally recuperated. Sam ignored him. There was no winning that argument. He was weak.

  “We will rest and regain our strength before going in,” Zel said. “Not long though. Wild cats and Hunters roam the wild and I wouldn’t want to fight with anyone else but the Krilig.”

  She sat down, resting her back on the outer edge of the opening. Sam let his breathing settle before sitting up. Callen walked up to Zel, standing before her silently. Sam watched as did Drill and Lam.

  “How do you know there is a Krilig here?” Callen asked. “This is out in nowhere, you can’t have scouted this cave.”

  “Not a cave, Callen. You have mastered the martial domain to a reliable stage. Use your eyes. Also, we have seen it. It is in there. So are other monsters too.”

  “And you think this is the best first hunt for someone like him?” Callen asked, pointing to Sam. Zel sighed. Her eyes were closed. “He will die and Wexi will blame me for letting him get into a situation like this. And Ro—”

  “Stop your complaining,” Zel said with a low groan, her eyes open now. “You are scared, Outworlder?” She asked, turning to face Sam. He frowned, not liking how swiftly he’d been pushed into the middle of their dispute. Yet, he took a moment to think.

  “I don’t know enough to be scared, but it doesn’t matter. I am supposed to learn to fend for myself. So, I need to do this. If I die here, then it means I wouldn’t have survived in the long run, right?”

  “You are right,” Zel said, nodding. “You are wrong too. I want this tin-armed man out of my face, so I will agree.” Facing Callen, she smiled. “You heard him. He’s not scared. Now rest or find a city squad exercise to waste your time with.”

  Callen marched away from her, from all of them. He found a place to sit and closed his eyes. Sam was still wondering what all that was about when Lam came to sit close to him. He placed the bag down and pulled out two drones. Both were shaped like massive eyes the size of a human’s head. The surfaces were dented all over, and in the middle of the eye was an opening, where Sam imagined the blasts were fired. Atop the eye were the fans. He leaned in to see if what he was looking at were runes. The marks were not as complicated as what he’d seen on Varay’s hammer, but they looked just as exquisite.

  “Are runes used for every automation?” Sam asked.

  “What?” Lam asked, wiping the fans of the second drone.

  “Constructs,” Sam corrected. “Do they all use runes?”

  “Some. There are very few who use enchanters.”

  Sam wondered what they would think if they heard of internal combustion engines that used an alternative energy source. He nodded.

  “You are popular,” Lam said. “At least in the city.”

  “Not for anything good, I assume?”

  “No,” Lam said, grinning. He smelled of hard drink and filth, but he was cheerful. “Your scraggy beard and the story of your fight with the D’Araks.”

  Sam nodded. “Not a favorite, then.”

  Lam chuckled. He opened a small compartment in one of the drone’s lower parts and inserted his hand to his wrist. Sam heard him grunt, and when he brought his hand out, the drone chittered and came to life.

  “Finally, Lam,” Zel said, standing up.