“Ok. First off, are you going to kill me or not? Because–”

“Ha! Look at you. You look like you’re going to faint. Well, relax. If I was going to kill you, I’d have done it right away. I just wanted to make sure you were human and you weren’t under the control of anything dangerous. On that note, I think I’d like to hear you say that you’re human.”

Brin wanted to collapse from relief. He thought he had put the Heroes at ease with his “precocious youngster” routine, so when Hogg had revealed that he knew Brin was from Earth, he had just about had a heart attack. He’d low-key thought Hogg wanted to murder him since the conversation this morning, so it was great to hear confirmation that that wasn’t in the cards.

Oh, right. Hogg was still waiting for an answer.

“I’m human,” said Brin. “I’m only human and I’ve never been anything except for human. Wow, saying it over and over just makes it sound like I’m lying, but I’m not. I like human stuff, like sugar and bread and– Changing the subject: Can I ask you something? How did you know?”

“I’ve got what may be the most advanced [Inspect] in the kingdom, so you're an open book. Your Otherworlder tag especially raised some alarm bells in my head. Did you die in your other life or were you experimenting with dimensional magic?”

“I died, I think,” said Brin. “Does this kind of thing happen a lot around here?”

“Not a lot, but it does happen. First piece of advice: don’t tell anyone you’re an Otherworlder. If anyone figures you out, say you’re from the past. Sometimes Otherworlders are regular people, but sometimes they’re monsters from the void, beasts of emptiness and darkness wearing human skin. Second piece of advice, when you get your System unlocked, no matter what Class, take [Inspect] as your first Skill. But the second one you should take is [Conceal Status].”

Brin scratched his head, thinking about it for a second. “If that does what it sounds like, wouldn’t that make people more suspicious of me, not less?”

“Lots of people take [Conceal Status]. At the higher levels, combat is at least fifty percent about controlling information. Knowing strengths and weaknesses will help you punch above your weight class. Knowing which enemies are a bad match-up for you will keep you alive. Of course, if you’re a [Tinker] or a [Tailor], it’ll turn some heads. But if you get a rare Class no one will think twice.”

“Thanks, that’s… really good to know,” said Brin. “You know, it’s really nice to have this off my chest. I can ask you things I can’t ask anyone else, common knowledge stuff I should already know.”

“Glad to oblige,” said Hogg. He seemed distracted, for someone who was in the middle of this kind of life or death conversation. It was only life or death for Brin though. For all he knew, this was just another Tuesday to Hogg.

Or maybe he was distracted because he wasn’t actually even there. Brin hadn’t forgotten that he was talking to an illusion.

Was the real Hogg going to come back? Why had he left in the first place? He decided to broach the subject subtly.

“Sometimes secrets have a habit of taking over. It can be freeing to have someone to talk to, someone that knows the real you,” said Brin.

“Unless the lie is the real you, and the truth is the illusion,” said Hogg.

“Yeah, you would say that, wouldn’t you. Mister [Illusionist].”

Hogg didn’t react right away. In fact, he didn’t react at all. He kept walking with an empty look on his face. When he stepped on a dirt mound, his foot clipped right through it, like a video game avatar going through scenery. Or like an illusionary copy on autopilot because its owner was too stunned to direct it perfectly.

“Damn,” he finally said, “[Know What’s Real]?”

“That’s right,” said Brin.

“It lets you see my status?”

“Nah,” said Brin. “It lets me see through illusions. It wasn’t a difficult deduction after that. You’re using illusions to pretend that you have some kind of teleport ability. You want people to think you’re what? A [Thief]? [Assassin]?”

“[Rogue],” said Hogg.

“Why did you say [Warrior], then?”

“Some people have lie detection Skills. Lots of [Rogues] will say that they’re [Warriors], completely expected. Disguise my big scary lie with a little white lie,” Hogg said numbly.

“Even without all that, though, you were as obvious as the sun.” Brin did his best imitation of Hogg’s scratchy voice. “Remember this day, Brin. This is how [Illusionists] die.”

“The other guys aren’t dunces, they were beginning to suspect, so I threw out an olive branch. Didn’t think you’d pick up on it, though. I even knew you weren’t really a kid, but it’s too easy to forget. That was my mistake. You’re more perceptive than you look. I’ll say that much.”

Brin snorted. “Everybody thinks I must not understand people very well since I work behind a desk all day. The truth is, I understand people fine, I’m just not all that interested in them. On that note: Where are you right now?”

“Leading away some undead. About two miles half southwest of you,” said Hogg.

“Wait, there’s more of them out here?”

“Yep. I didn’t want to scare you or anything, but now that you know, maybe pick up the pace a bit?”

Brin started running. Then he let it settle into a quick jog, a pace that he thought he’d be able to maintain for a while.

He could see quite a ways through the forest, probably a quarter mile, with no sign of danger, or of Hogg, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The tree trunks this far down were bare, and with no underbrush, it made the forest seem cold and empty. Hogg’s double jogged alongside him, looking solid as ever, but when Brin reached out to touch him, his fingers went right through his shoulder and felt only air.

“Tell me what’s going on,” said Brin. “How many undead? When did you see them?”

“The Phasmid was doing a decent job of keeping the whole army hidden, but now that it’s dead, I’m able to keep tabs on them with my abilities. The main army is still engaged with the others, but they noticed we left. Now thousands of lesser soldiers, the kind we found in your village, are swarming the forest.”

“Couldn’t you hide us with Illusions?” asked Brin.

“To a point, but undead can see heat as well. It’s sort of the opposite problem that we had with the Phasmid. Lurilan could track it, but even when we knew it was nearby we still couldn’t see it, so we had to lure it in. Well, the undead don’t have a good way to track us, but if they happen to stumble close enough they’ll be able to see us. If a bunch of them suddenly die, I think the master will know and he’ll send the whole swarm in our direction. That’s why I’m leading these ones away with blinking lights and soft sounds, instead of taking them out.”

“Then why–”

“Shut up for a second.”

Brin dutifully kept his mouth shut and focused on running. Hogg’s double veered abruptly to the right, and Brin followed him.

They ran for a half hour, which was longer and further than Brin had ever run in his entire previous life. He was reaching his limit. He opened his mouth to ask Hogg if it was safe to take a break, when he said, “Dammit! They got to the pass before us. Well, shoot, our cover will be blown, but I still think our best bet is to break through. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

Hogg’s double disappeared, and sure enough, the real Hogg appeared from the trees only a few short minutes later.

Without a word, he tossed Brin over his shoulder and kept running. Again, they were flying through the trees at a breakneck pace. This time, the ride was a lot less comfortable. He was panting heavily, which was difficult with Hogg’s shoulder digging into his stomach. That combined with his head upside down made him nauseous, but if anything Brin was simply thankful for the break.

Still way better than running.

The break was short-lived. Not long after, Hogg set him down and said, “Follow after. When you get to the pass, ignore everything and run straight through. Oh, and don’t look down.”

“Why shouldn’t I look–” Brin looked down, and he was gone. His arms, legs, and everything else, were completely invisible. He tripped, falling face first into the ground.

“I made you invisible. It can be disorienting if you’re not used to it. Don’t look at yourself and you’ll be fine,” said Hogg.

“I thought you said this wouldn’t work,” said Brin. "They can still see my body heat."

“Better than nothing. Now remember what I said. Just run straight through.”

With that, Hogg ran ahead and didn’t so much as leave an illusion of himself behind. Brin took off after him.

He ran, careful not to look at his pumping arms or legs, and was able to keep his balance this time. Despite being invisible now, he felt terribly exposed. His loud breathing probably carried for miles, and his heart sounded like drum beats.

Soon he arrived at the area Hogg was calling a pass.

A huge wall of stone interrupted the forest. It looked natural, like an abrupt cliff face, except for how improbable it was. From the gap he could see that it was only about three hundred feet thick or so. It rose up abruptly, was probably flat on the top for a bit, and looked like it dropped off just as abruptly on the other side.

It stretched for miles either direction; there was no getting around it. He saw the remains of a tunnel, a decorated stone archway set into the cliff face, but it was caved in. There was no getting through there.

Instead, there was a natural gap in front of him, with a slope leading up a ways, and then back down the other side.

The slope was guarded by a group of fifty undead soldiers lined up across it. Their line was breaking though, because a giant ten-ton bear was charging out of the forest at them.

The bear was fake, obviously. Or maybe it was only obvious to Brin; the undead seemed quite alarmed by the monster.

Hogg’s bear illusion had greenish brown fur, marred here and there with wounds, fresh wounds that oozed brackish blood with every step. Spittle frothed in its mouth, and its eyes were yellow. The beast looked insane. Rabid.

The bear approached its first victim, reached out with a claw, and sliced the undead soldier into pieces.

Brin’s jaw dropped. He’d expected the illusory paw to be ineffective. Hogg must be inside the bear, mimicking the effect of the claws with his shortswords.

The bear roared so loudly that Brin could feel the vibrations in the earth. That was enough for the rest of the undead. They scattered in every direction.

Brin ran. He ran towards the bear, straight through the fleeing undead. A few turned to look at him. One took a step towards him, but the bear roared and pounced, landing on the undead soldier and swallowing him whole, to all appearances. Clever. Hogg might not have even done anything to it; he could just render the undead invisible and all its buddies would assume it’d been eaten.

Brin kept running.

The slope was so steep that it took all his effort to keep his legs moving. His run turned to a walk. His walk slowed and slowed until it was more like a crawl, using his hands to pull himself up the steep slope.

This was too much. He’d done enough. He’d been running too long, and now he was done. His legs couldn’t take any more. He must be near the top, right? He looked up, and saw that he was barely halfway there. There was no way he could do that.

He looked behind him. The undead soldiers were rallying. They were forming a circle around the bear, and starting to press in. In no time, they’d realize that the bear was an illusion, and when that happened Brin needed to be away from here. He needed to get over the hill.

Fear made a powerful motivator. His legs found whatever it was they needed, and carried him to the top of the slope.

He scrambled to the top, over the crest. He wanted to fall over and pass out, but he was still too close to the sounds of Hogg and the undead fighting, so kept moving, going down the other side.

It was a nice relief to be going downhill, for about five seconds. Then he was moving so fast that it was all he could do to keep his legs underneath him. He couldn’t stop himself, he couldn’t slow. His legs didn’t have enough energy left to even try. The slope down was made of gravel and sharp rocks. If he tripped and rolled down there was no way he’d get to the bottom without breaking anything.

Thankfully, he got to the bottom without dying, and let the momentum carry him across the prairie and into the forest. Once he had slowed down enough to do so without hurting himself, he collapsed into the tall grass.

He lay there, breathing in and out, almost hyperventilating. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the world for him to breathe.

The rest was glorious. His legs practically sang now that the abuse was over. The sudden lack of pain was better than pleasure.

“Get up kid,” said Hogg. The voice was hushed, right next to Brin’s ear, completely disembodied.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Brin.

“Get up. There’s one near you, and I won’t get there in time. You have to get up.”

Brin rolled to his feet, climbed through the tall grass, and sure enough, an undead soldier stood in his path. Looking down at his hands, Brin saw that he was still invisible, but Hogg had confirmed that that wouldn’t be enough.

There was something of a dirt road leading from the slope to the forest beyond, and the undead stood right in the middle. It was strange, seeing one of these things in the daytime. Its sword was black, its skin like ash, and its clothes were tight against its mummified flesh.

Flickering lights surrounded the ghoul, and it followed them with its gaze, trying to watch them all at once. It swung its heavy black broadsword at them, hitting only air.

“How are you doing that?” asked Brin. “I thought you said they saw heat.”

“They do. You can make heat with light, that's what those little sparks are. I can’t make enough heat to fight with, but for this it's perfect.”

“So it can’t see me?”

“It can. It just cares about the brighter heat more,” said Hogg. “Now listen. You’re going to fight that thing.”

“What? That’s ridiculous!” Brin hissed. “Let’s just sneak past it.”

“That won’t work forever, and this isn't the only one. You can do this,” said Hogg. “I’ll guide you every step of the way.”

Apparently he meant that literally, because golden footprints of light stretched out in front of Brin, indicating exactly where he should step.

“No way,” said Brin.

“Believe it. Before I showed you how Illusionists die, right? Now I’ll show you how they live.”

Brin followed the footprints, stepping on the footprints exactly. He had to run to get his stride long enough. They led to a stone on the ground, flashing yellow. A white circle surrounded the stone, and it started shrinking. A timer. He half expected Hogg to say something like “Press F to pick it up.”

Hogg said something close. “Pick it up.”

Brin grabbed the stone as he ran past. “Good,” said Hogg.

The footprints led to the ghoul, and the undead’s offhand arm started flashing yellow.

“I’m in a quicktime event. I can’t believe this,” said Brin.

“I don’t know what that is. Stay focused, kid,” said Hogg.

A white circle appeared around the ghoul’s arm. Another timer, and this one was shrinking fast.

Brin charged the ghoul, still distracted by the drifting sparks, and slammed his stone exactly where the light indicated. He felt the ghoul’s arm break.

It spun and fell to the ground, then dropped the sword to frantically swat at the sparks of light with its still-working hand. The ghoul’s head started flashing yellow.

Brin put all of his body weight into bringing his stone down onto the ghoul’s head. He smashed it in the forehead, and felt a satisfying crunch. The skull cracked and the ghoul went limp, but the yellow light kept flashing so Brin brought the stone down three more times, until the flashing yellow light went dim.

Alert!

You have defeated:

Undead Soldier Scout [28]

Due to level disparity extra experience will be rewarded.