The Shattered Fang (Outlander Mercenaries)Jon Va'ulRole & Core Gift: Perfect Mimicry Description: The reluctant leader. His rare gift allows him to perfectly copy and retain the Blood Gifts of anyone he touches. Unbeknownst to him, this power links him to a terrifying, buried lineage.Isabel KorvaRole & Core Gift: Primal DominionDescription: The fierce protector. In her human form, she is defined by her autonomous, whip-like spike tail. She can transform into a seven-foot, cobalt-skinned Primal Beast Form of immense strength.Holst DurrenRole & Core Gift: EarthsmithDescription: The grounded pragmatist. A master of defensive and siege tactics, he can manipulate and shape earth and stone into weapons or fortifications. Wields the Stone's Kiss crossbow.Mercy KorvaRole & Core Gift: Plasmacore (manifests as the plasma blade "vipers tongue")Description: The captured sister and the prophet. A natural-born master of Green Plasma, a rare anomaly that led to her kidnapping and indoctr

What an amazing story! Too bad it's the hundredth time we've all heard it," a small boy yelled, and a choir of smaller kids followed immediately. Jon winced, feeling a familiar flush crawl up his neck. He was standing in front of the kids, a bit taller now, with more well-defined features and a sharp face. His jet-black hair was neck-length, but still couldn't hide his embarrassment at being called out. Both Isabel and Holst were behind him. They were also older now and seemed to be teaching the kids in front of them something.The Promise had grown, its cluster of tents and ramshackle houses expanding under Miss Kai’s watchful eye. Being part of the eldest kids, Miss Kai had tasked them with watching the younger ones and talking to them about the Blood Moon and the reality of getting a Bloodgift, your entire anatomy changing in a night to accommodate an ability. They were here to tell the kids that not all Bloodgifts are combat-oriented like they'd hoped, but every single one was pra

"Are you sure you're reading that thing right?" Mercy grumbled at Jon, who held a map with confusion written all over his face."Sure I am," he feigned annoyance. "Our first stop is a small farm town called Graith. We should be there in no time."The carriage they were in suddenly stopped. "Hey mister, is this Graith?" Holst shouted to the rider."Yes," a distant voice replied. They instantly got off and retrieved their things."Well, let's get an in," Isabel said after inhaling a breath of air. They'd been on the road for a day now.The gang nodded and headed into Graith. The town was small, not much bigger than The Promise, but even though it was midday, there was hardly anyone on the street. Those that saw them instantly gave them stares of death. "Damn, talk about inhospitable," Jon grumbled.They headed for the nearest inn, a shabby, three-story building with a bar occupying most of the first floor. A worn-out sign saying "La Rosa's Place" was fixed at the entrance. This was the

The massive grey city of Hilston Market finally appeared, and the quartet stopped dead in their tracks, staring. It was vast, constructed of light, uniform stone, and everything was clean. The dominant motif was the Hundred Hands Sigil the symbol of the Tarrith House carved into every lamppost, archway, and official doorway. The symbol of law and absolute control. “Look at that! the buildings are so tall!” Mercy gasped, her eyes wide as saucers as she stared at the three-story buildings. Jon adjusted his worn tunic, suddenly feeling painfully rustic. “Well, this is different. It smells like baked bread and money. Mostly money.” Holst, instead of being impressed, wrinkled his nose and spat on the immaculate cobblestones. “I hate it. Too many rules in the air. These Tarrith folk are so worried about order, they probably fine you for smiling too loud.” , mercy frowned and nudged Holst for his pessimism. Isabel laughed, her quiet amusement a welcome sound. “It’s impressive, Holst. J

(This chapter begins on the road, a day's travel from Hilston Market. The memory of the Silver-Scaled Werewolf is a fresh, sobering shadow.) The sun beat down on the dusty road, the only sounds the steady clop of hooves and the creak of saddle leather. The high walls of Hilston Market were a smudge on the horizon behind them, but its memory loomed large. The casual, terrifying power of Blade Tamia had stolen the easy laughter from the group. Isabel, riding at the front, kept glancing back at Jon. Her fingers brushed against the simple bracelet on her wrist, the blue gemstone cool against her skin. She’d been trying to find the right moment for two days. Taking a deep breath, she slowed her horse to fall in beside him. “Hey,” she said, her voice quieter than usual. Jon, who had been studying his map with an unusual intensity, looked up. “Hmm?” “I, uh… I never properly thanked you. For this.” She held up her wrist, the bracelet catching the light. “It was… really nice of you.” A f