Shadow

Tracking and stalking a Tier 5 was not a new undertaking for Shadow, but it was an exciting one. Similar tasks had been by far the greatest sources of growth the last few years. The rush brought on by extensive preparation, careful planning, and then deliberate execution of those plans... Those were the things Shadow's Path truly relished.

Extinguishing the Brightshield's party, culminating in the death of the {Beacon of Hope} himself, was what had pushed Shadow multiple levels into Tier 4 so quickly and garnered him the {Legendslayer} title.

But here in the Frontier, information was much harder to come by. These lands might not have existed at all decades ago. They were untamed, unmapped, and in most cases unseen by mortal eyes. The Frontier was the embodiment of unreliability. The challenges for his Path--and likewise the rewards--were palpable.

No one knew for certain just how the Frontier worked, except that it was always out there, always growing, and always dangerous.

Shadow had grown to appreciate the Frontier as a constant challenge, sharpening his purpose and Path like a whetstone might a blade. He felt the need to know things intensely, and for them to all be malleable or limited in duration in this place made things... complicated. Truth should not be relative, he thought as he watched a grove of trees literally shifting colors from burnt umber to turquoise as the wind blew across their leaves. There was simply too little certainty for his liking, and no matter how much there was to learn, he would never love that.

There had been no paths for days, only dirt, rocks, and plants, and elementals of each had now unsuccessfully tried to end his life. They had seemed to rely mostly on ambushes to ensnare prey, but Shadow had easily seen through their tier-higher illusions.

Even the undergrowth itself was quick to throw tendrils, thorns, and vines at him in attempts to pin him down, but that, too, was in vain. Shadow could not be so easily restrained.

The resulting fights had been numerous, intense, and invigorating, no matter how brief. They were also challenging thanks to the tier difference, and noisy, which had drawn in a pack of large cats that mistook themselves for the predators in this relationship.

Now his daggers were practically singing with glee, which Shadow found more disturbing than their previous, hungry whispers that he was used to tolerating. They clearly had never been so sated. They were thriving in the Frontier, where suitable targets were plentiful and blood and essence could flow unabated.

But this was not a vacation. Shadow had a task, and its completion was paramount. So he hunted, day after day, until the end of his third week, when he finally found his quarry.

[Bronco Threelegs, gnome, level 82 [T5], unbound berserker] {{Frontier Menace}}

Bronco was one of those adventurers who lived in the Frontier, or perhaps he lived for the Frontier. He never bothered to cover his tracks--likely because the bloody swath he cut through the forest would have taken a master to conceal. For such a small person, Bronco left a big impression.

Shadow did not engage immediately. That would have been the peak of foolishness. Merely approaching someone well into Tier 5, nearly double his level, had to be done carefully. He first needed to study and learn about his target, both to build up [Insight] and to adequately plan countermeasures. [Insight] always built more slowly outside of combat, but it was the safer method by far. Ideally, he'd gain enough to fill his reserve, as a strong opening move was key to success for most assassins, even when the goal wasn't solely to kill. For this target, he knew he'd need much more than just a strong opener for what he planned to do.

The more he watched, the more he realized that even a full-power crit likely wouldn't be enough against this target. Bronco was a tireless, living weapon. As long as the sun was up, the gnome took no breaks. He had no downtime between kills either. He sped from target to target in practically straight lines, jumping headfirst into whatever was in his way. He flew, right along with his axes, through the air with reckless abandon, and it worked quite well.

His title was another cause for concern. Being a {Frontier Menace} meant that he'd not only slain over 1000 creatures in the Frontier, but also that at least 10 of them had been other adventurers. That he wore the title meant he was either proud of it, or he might not be smart enough to know how it would affect anyone else he would encounter.

After his first few days of silently tailing and studying the gnome, Shadow couldn't conclude if it was either option or something else entirely.

For all his brutish efficiency, Bronco was not as simple as he first seemed. For example, while his preferred weapons were two double-headed handaxes, each larger than he was, he would stow them away every other evening in favor of a fishing rod.

Shadow had not expected for such a barbarous, blood-thirsty killing machine to put any value in the slow, patient silence of a fishing pond at dusk. Yet every other day, like clockwork, the gnome found his way to a pond, lake, or riverside with alarmingly active nibblers. It was almost as though the gnome had a way of sensing them, and he moved between them naturally.

Fisherman must have been one of his Secondary Classes, Shadow concluded.

Still, whatever the reason, the little gnome's routine was something Shadow could use. A waterside trap and ambush could be quite effective at limiting a high-mobility target.

His next breakthrough came after finally recognizing why the gnome spent so little time looting. That it was practically never had bothered Shadow for nearly a full day, until he caught the tell: the half-second of inaction after any kill in which Bronco's eyes flashed green. It was the telltale sign of [Gather All], though clearly the gnome had upgraded it. Shadow's [Discernment] agreed, explaining that the gnome had actually upgraded it twice to get its casting time so low.

Shadow wasn't exactly sure if he could use it, but the fact that Bronco was practically automating his looting left an interesting opening.

It was also quickly revealed that the filling of his magical storage was what dictated when the gnome returned to an outpost. Nine days into Shadow's tail, Bronco beelined back to the same border town he'd been to before, to the very same vendor, which Shadow quickly learned was a skilled appraiser. Once there, Bronco proceeded to unload a huge number of items onto a table, asking such surprisingly canny values for all of them that the appraiser barely haggled. Then he quickly set off again. The whole process took less than an hour.

Trusting in his ability to find Bronco again, Shadow lingered a while after the gnome was gone, speaking to the buyer. With a generous enough "tip," he learned that the gnome had only appeared to sell everything. The most expensive items Bronco always swept back into his storage, "For his collection," the appraiser explained.

The old thief habits weren't so far buried, no matter how long ago his Path had turned toward assassination, and Shadow's fingers itched at the thought of uncovering what comprised the little berserker's private collection. No doubt that was where his true prize would be, too: the shard capable of cutting easily through tier 6 materials. Divine materials.

Shadow wanted that shard.

The entire realm could change if Shadow had that shard.

In another hour, he was back in the forest's shadows with his [Abyssal Shroud] concealing him, observing the unbound berserker, taking notes, seeking weaknesses, and capping his [Insight].

Nine more days he watched. Nine more nights he plotted, getting minimal sleep. The planning and preparations were too exciting. They were what he lived for.

On the tenth day, Bronco turned directly around and began making his way back to civilization again, and Shadow knew it was time. Given how far out they'd traveled, it would take more than a full day's journey to return to the usual camp. Better still, this would be an evening when the gnome should go fishing, if the so-far-unshakable pattern held true.

Everything was aligning perfectly.

Hours of traveling later, the sun dipped down into the canopy of trees as the gnome settled into his familiar and comfortable pose at the edge of a lake. This wasn't a place they'd been before, but the Frontier was often like that--at least until parts of it were officially mapped.

Shadow positioned his six [Shadow Clones] carefully, fully surrounding his prey. Then he began the careful, cautious process of maneuvering one toward the gnome, hopping it from shadow to shadow, bush to tree, until it was holding in place within the berserker's shadow.

Having studied the gnome for long enough, he knew it was important that the opening move not only be an [Insight]-fueled Perfect Blow, but also be as powerful as possible. That meant he needed [Assassinate] active, with its damage and critical modifiers, which was only possible if he caught the Tier 5 by surprise. No small task.

He had no delusions about one strike possibly finishing off an unbound berserker, but a big opener should substantially impact the gnome, even if he'd then get stronger and deal more damage. Shadow had to believe that his poisons and traps would put time on his side.

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Next came [Enhanced Darkness], which he'd worked hard to upgrade for the Brightshield contract, overlaying it with [Silence of the Grave] so that it now not only stacked with his passive [Abyssal Shroud], but it also included an anesthetic for the senses, so its silencing effects shouldn't be as noticeable.

Activating [True Sight], Shadow wanted to be sure he wasn't overlooking something. He knew there would always be surprises, but that's what contingencies were for. His magically enhanced eyes were fixated on the gnome and his aura, scanning for even the slightest twitch--any tell that he'd noticed something was up.

The singing of his daggers had quieted to whispers of eager encouragement as he stalked his prey, and not just from the two blades nestled against his palms. All of them were focused on the present moment.

His second [Shadow Clone] had slowly risen from the ground and was now perfectly positioned behind the berserker.

Shadow exhaled once, then twice, very measured and controlled. Here we go, he thought.

Within the span of one heartbeat, he switched places with second [Shadow Clone], raised both his palmed daggers, and plunged them into the gap between the gnome's heavy armor and his neck.

Instantly, he knew the attack was a massive critical hit. He also knew that he had thoroughly pissed off a berserker, who began trying to hurl Shadow away while shouting unintelligibly, somehow overpowering the [Silence of the Grave] with its sheer intensity. His rage seethed through his skin and armor, producing enough heat he literally combusted. Bright red flames engulfed the tiny form, hot enough they threatened to roast Shadow where he was.

Shadow released his daggers with a backward flip, leaving them embedded in the gnome's neck as long as possible to increase the dosage of poison delivered. He also slipped the first [Stasis Trap] under Bronco's feet, priming it with his intent before getting cleanly away. He'd never used one against a higher-tier combat Class before, but in theory it should weaken the gnome's passives somewhat, block some skills, and hold him in place.

The clean escape was also important, since Shadow didn't want to use his [Shadow Step] until he needed it. The cooldown was short, but against an angry Tier 5 melee Class, even fifteen seconds could be too long.

Bronco slammed himself, back first, into the dirt, rolling around until he drove Shadow's daggers out, but that just served to ensnare him in Shadow's trap. At least until the little berserker saw the two daggers coated in his own blood and screamed louder. In that instant, his eyes became blank, pupil-less fields of red, and both his body and bellow grew. The gnome seemed to lift himself out of the trap's paralyzing field as easily as rising from bed.

While the dramatic size increase and bellow were nothing new, their allowing the gnome to break free of Shadow's trap was something he'd never seen before. The first wrinkle.

The second was when [Discernment] revealed that Bronco's fire hadn't just been a damage-dealing buff: it was also designed to purge his system.

Luckily, [Shadow's Length] effectively hid his other poisons beneath its protection, so it had been the only one removed.

It was enough to make Shadow nearly smile. He loved when plans worked like they should, no matter the wrinkles. As long as they remained merely wrinkles, and not tears, his plan could still hold.

As for the gnome getting free, Shadow was prepared for that. He had plans within plans and backups within backups.

With a quick snap, he not only summoned his favorite daggers back to his hands, but he also commanded another [Shadow Clone] to envelop and bind the raging berserker. It leapt from the ground, a stark, pitch-black mass against the fading dusklight, and it held Bronco--for all of three seconds before the gnome's axes cut straight through it.

Those seconds weren't wasted, however. Shadow had also pushed his third through sixth clones forward. Each had been wielding one of his smaller daggers, two tipped in [Crippling Poison], two tipped in [Umbral Poison], and each had managed to stab Bronco twice.

It was a good thing, too, because even slowed by the poisons, the gnome was still faster and stronger than Shadow had predicted from what he'd witnessed. With barely three swings of Bronco's axes, all four clones were dispersed, their daggers thudding to the ground.

With another scream, the gnome turned his red-eyed attention to the real Shadow.

You don't scare me, Shadow thought, not bothering to waste his words on someone who likely wouldn't process them. He recognized a berserker rage when he saw it. The gnome was now being driven purely by reflexes.

Shadow could use that.

Instead of recalling his fallen daggers, he flexed the fingers on one hand, forming them into a fist and activating a skill he rarely got to use, [Psychic Blades], causing all four blades to fly into the gnome again, finding crevices and chinks in his armor on their own.

With his other hand, Shadow finished tweaking the second [Stasis Trap] before priming it with his intent. To get it to hold better, he'd had to reduce its affected area, but that shouldn't matter. Holding the gnome's legs might just be enough. This one was a dull gray orb, totally matte in appearance, and enchanted to seem simpler than it really was. He knew that would be enough for most people, let alone a raging berserker, to easily overlook it.

With one last tweak, making sure its Priority 1 was set to incapacitate, he rolled the orb along the ground, aimed directly toward the gnome. Normally that would have been foolish, but knowing his target's tendency to move directly toward its enemies...

True to form, after Bronco flared his aura again, forcing Shadow to recall the smaller daggers that were flung away, the gnome wasted no time and hurled head first forward, just as he'd done for weeks.

Shadow loved predictability. It was like grease to the mechanisms of his plans, making them that much smoother.

Moments before the gnome should have reached him, the orb rolled under his feet, and the trap was sprung.

Shadow waited, practically holding his breath--along with an escape measure--before believing the trap would hold.

As seconds passed, the little berserker's legs remained completely immobilized. Slowly, his eyes lost their redness, and his body shrank back to its usual size. He tried to swing his axes, then stowing them he grabbed at the trap, but it was protected by an invisible barrier of force.

Only then did Shadow recall his last remaining clone to him, grimacing at its 45-second cooldown. He hated losing another possible escape method, but it would be necessary in the coming moments.

Bronco squeaked in frustration, "You're good." His voice was high enough to almost sound like a handbell. "Was it the title?"

Shadow subtly placed his last clone in front of himself, covering his appearance entirely. He debated whether or not to engage with the gnome. But as long as his poisons were ticking and his [Insight] was building, he felt he could risk it. Besides, he had no hate for the gnome, and no vested interest in killing him, other than it might be easier, and that was debatable.

I need to stop picking fights with people I don't want to kill.

At last, he chose to answer, "No, you have something I want."

"And you didn't think of just asking for it?"

"No, I knew better."

"Did you?" the gnome asked, eyes narrowing. "Interesting. Which of my trophies is it? It would have to be relatively new, since you're only here now."

Shadow kept his answer vague. "You could just leave them all. Seems a fair price for your life."

The gnome crossed his arms. "Yeah, that's not happening. And as much as these poisons and that opening strike fucking hurt, I get the feeling you've already taken your best shot... and I'm still standing tall."

Shadow swept his cloak around himself, hiding the fact that he was loading his hands with throwing daggers and recasting [Shadow Clone].

"Huh, a good Status blocker, too," the little gnome said. "So many tricks! You seem a decent dude. I'd hate to kill you."

Before Shadow could respond, Bronco produced something else and smashed it down toward the invisible barrier, which was immediately torn asunder, ripped in half like paper.

The shard. It had to be the shard.

Shadow's eyes slipped off it as if light itself couldn't hold onto its surface.

But he couldn't think about that yet, because the unbound berserker was hurtling toward him, lungs bursting with aggression, eyes already the color of blood.

Bronco held the shard in his outstretched hand, a jagged edge pointed straight at Shadow's heart.

Perfect, Shadow thought.

He responded by hurling all his readied daggers at the gnome's face. Then using that along with his stationary clone as cover, he triggered [Shadow Step], sinking into the shadow at his own feet and emerging from Bronco's. Lengthened as it was by the dying light, Shadow had a much larger area to choose from, and he picked right behind the gnome.

Whether Shadow was finally faster thanks to his [Crippling Poison] stacks, or Bronco hadn't realized he was only attacking a clone, or something else entirely, the result was that Shadow slammed both of his favorite blades into the gnome's back.

If only his [Insight] had refilled, it might have cut the gnome in two, but it was barely a third of the way there.

The blows were still decisive, and though neither crit, they clearly pierced the smaller frame's midsection. Shadow twisted them fiercely before he once again let go.

Because the daggers didn't matter at that moment.

The damage wasn't important either.

Even his resummoned clones, which all (save one) converged at once, were largely irrelevant.

They were just distractions, again. They served a purpose: to weaken the gnome, especially his grip on the shard.

Shadow personally tore into the gnome's hand, ripping at the shard, avoiding the jagged edge, utterly desperate to pull it free.

And he succeeded.

The moment the shard passed into his possession, something changed that Shadow didn't have time to process. He activated his [Shadow Clone] ability, switching places with the clone he'd hidden in the treeline.

The berserker spun around, hands suddenly holding the axes again, cutting through every other clone Shadow had. Another burst of fiery rage clearly tried to purge the worsening poisons. But again, it only succeeded in removing the protective [Shadow's Length] that had been reapplied in the clash. By all Shadow's indicators, the gnome had twenty other poison stacks still ticking away.

That those stacks wouldn't be enough to kill him had never mattered though, as this wasn't an assassination. Shadow didn't need to kill this opponent. He had already achieved his primary objective. In his hands he held the shard. Now he just needed to stay hidden long enough to no longer be 'in combat.'

"COWARD!" yelled the gnome, tearing toward the nearest tree, a dozen or so paces from Shadow. "Afraid to finish the fight?!"

Shadow didn't bother responding. He saw the gnome's taunts for the desperate pleas they were. The last ditch efforts of a flailing, beaten opponent.

In fact, after only ten more seconds, he was able to fully engulf the area in his [Enhanced Darkness] again, as he had officially dropped out of combat.

Reactivating [Silence of the Grave], Shadow sped silently away, using [Shadow Step] each time it was off cooldown.

Only then was he finally able to give a bit of his awareness to the strange shard that had, from the moment it first touched his fingers, begun speaking to him, directly... whispering something about his Path.

Another gods-damned talking item, he griped internally.

It was time to get out of the bloody Frontier and see what the shard had to offer.

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