Thorin's First Thundersday of Harvestfall, 1442, Gloam-Barrow Den, first boss battle arena.

Vaelith stepped closer, peeking over Elyssia's shoulder as the sylvani unlatched the lid of the treasure chest.

The chest opened with a faint shunk, its metal hinges creaking open as the ambient dungeon light caught on the rune-etched inlays.

Inside, they found a single item. A pair of gauntlets—black leather, sleek and close-fitted, the kind worn by Umbraholme's elite guards: thin-strapped fingers, reinforced knuckles, and faint traces of shadow-silk thread now dulled by time.

They were also unmistakably… stitched back together.

Thin cords—like surgical sutures or puppet strings—ran along the seam lines and across the back of the hands, pinning the material together in places where the leather had been torn and re-bound. The craftsmanship was undeniable. The damage, even more so.

"Oof," Leoric muttered. "Those are kind of sick. But also… kinda cursed-looking?"

Elyssia picked them up and turned them over, examining the inside lining. "Hmm. Leather armour, dexterity builds." She paused, then gave Leoric a knowing glance. "Well, as our ranger, you're the only one who can make use of them."

"Yoink?" he asked, hopeful.

"Yoink," Elyssia confirmed, tossing them underhand into his waiting hands.

Leoric caught them and whistled low. "Umbraholme elite gloves. The two guards outside sure caught my eye. I thought I'd have to join the city-watch faction to earn that armour."

"You'd still need to," Vaelith said softly, studying the stitching. "If we get you the full set in here, you'll look like the boss we just defeated. Some kind of pieced-together, Frankenstein-monster armour set."

Elyssia nodded. "Makes sense. The devs probably don't want players to impersonate guards. This is probably a compromise—the stitched-up variant for drops."

"Guard cosplay denied," Leoric sighed, mock-tragic, as he tried them on. "Wow. These actually look good. You know, assuming you're into the whole Corpse Bride or Beetlejuice aesthetics."

Vaelith chuckled lightly at the way he flexed his hands, testing the fit like a kid trying on a Halloween costume.

But her gaze drifted, just for a moment, past him.

Kaelyn stood a little off to the side, her staff planted lightly on the ground, fingers still curled around it like it might vanish if she let go. She was not watching the loot or smiling at Leoric's antics.

She was… somewhere else.

Vaelith recognised that stare. She had seen it on students after their first performance in front of a class, or after giving a wrong answer that still somehow helped the discussion move forward.

She's still here, processing, like she's trying to figure out where she belongs.

She kept watching, not interrupting yet, tucking the observation away for later.

Vaelith stepped back as Elyssia motioned toward the corridor ahead.

"Alright," the sylvani said, cracking her neck with a practiced roll of her shoulders. "Let's head to the next mini-boss. Expect more undeads from here on out."

"Perfect," Leoric said brightly, knocking an arrow against his bowstring. "I've got holy arrows for days. I can't wait to see them at work."

The corridor narrowed ahead—walls pressed tight with jutting roots and ancient bones. Cracked sconces lined the way like forgotten sentinels, green lichen providing a faint glow barely enough to cut through the gloom.

Vaelith heard the noise before she saw them. A low groan followed by the scraping of metal against stone.

"Hostiles ahead," Elyssia called, already picking up speed. "Ten, maybe twelve? Looks like skeletons, zombies and ghouls."

"Go get 'em," Leoric said, already drawing an arrow with glowing fletching.

A faint golden shimmer trailed her heels as Elyssia activated Sprint, rushing ahead, tonfa in hand, her boots pounding against moss-slick flagstones. Vaelith sprinted after her, making sure to stay close to the tank.

A knot of undead spilled into view ahead—jawless skulls clacking silently, tattered armour sloughing off with each jerky step. Behind them, a grave-wight carried a giant cleaver lazily, dragging it across the floor like a farmer hoeing rot.

"Oh, looks like there's a big fellow in there," Vaelith said, slowing down to match speed with Elyssia.

Leoric exhaled sharply, took aim, and loosed his teleport arrow.

The radiant bolt arced above Vaelith's head, embedded high into a crumbling buttress across the chamber—and shwink, he vanished from view.

Reappearing mid-sprint on the ledge, he pivoted sharply and dropped to one knee, already nocking his next arrow. "Let's see how many I can tag before they path their way to me..."

Elyssia reached the front line, slamming into the skeletons like a battering ram. Her tonfa danced—cracks and splintered bones flying in all directions as she established aggro. "Should be good with aggro, give me some breathing room, Jae?"

"On it," Vaelith replied. She raised her hand, index and ring fingers pointed like a blade and unleashed a Telekinetic Blast.

The air cracked with pressure as a conical force surged outward from her palm, catching four of the ghouls in its wake. They flew backward into a crumbled column—ribs snapping, one skull bouncing free and tumbling down the hallway like a kicked pumpkin.

"Nice shot!" Leoric called, loosing his first holy arrow straight into the exposed sternum of the nearest revenant.

The creature ignited—fully ignited—its bones flaring with brilliant golden fire before collapsing to ash mid-step.

"Oh my gods," he whispered. "One shot?"

Another skeleton stepped into view, but it barely had time to rattle before Leoric lined up his next shot and sent it sailing through its eye socket. It, too, burst apart like a dropped lantern full of oil.

"Kaelyn, those arrowheads are goddamn miracles!" he howled, laughter ringing down from his perch.

Vaelith held back the urge to correct Leoric—those arrows were actually a team effort. The arrowheads were from Elyssia, the holy water from Kaelyn, the arrow shafts from her. But she quietly decided to let the comment fade. Something was going on with Kaelyn, and she could use some encouragement.

The priestess, jogging quietly next to Vaelith, cracked a small smile of pride at the corner of her lips, but her eyes remained focused. She did not reply to the compliment—but her movements were precise, even graceful. She spotted a fresh group of undead peeling off to flank Elyssia, and without a word, flew to the tank's position with Blinding Speed and activated Sanctuary right in their path.

The field of holy light pulsed outward—catching three ghouls mid-lunge and knocking them backwards.

The ghouls scrambled back to their feet, resuming their approach. It would be a simple matter for them to circle around her spell. But a holy arrow impaled itself in the chest of the first. Then, a second arrow set another ghoul on fire. And finally, a third.

Kaelyn let the wall fade, and Vaelith caught the girl's eye just long enough to nod in approval—no praise, no teacher tone. Just… acknowledgement. A warrior's nod. A peer's.

Then she turned back, saw a half-armoured skeleton trying to regroup, and slammed it sideways with a second Telekinetic Blast, sending it sailing straight into the wall.

"Hey," Leoric called from above. "I was aiming at that one!"

"You snooze, you lose!" Vaelith called up.

"Oh, is it going to be like that?" he asked, his voice full of mirth. "Shall we make it a game, Lady Gimli?"

"Oh, you're so on, Legolas."

"Kids, focus," Elyssia growled, but her facial expression spoke volumes about her actual mood. She enjoyed the banter, competitive spirit and geeky references.

Still, her words had the intended effect, and the banter cut down. But the grin on Vaelith's face remained.

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Moments later, the last of the ghouls collapsed under a final holy arrow, its body disintegrating mid-stumble with a flare of pale gold. Bits of charred cloth fluttered to the ground like burned prayer flags.

"Last one's down," Leoric reported. "Eight kills here. You get… what? Three?"

"Four," Vaelith said primly. "But I softened up half of yours."

"We only count kill shots," he teased.

"Good job, everyone," Elyssia interrupted, shaking gore off her tonfa with a flick. "We're there."

"Boss arena ahead?" Kaelyn asked, adjusting her grip on her staff.

Elyssia nodded, already stepping forward. "Looks like it. The stone pattern changes up ahead—see the circular etching? That's a clear arena boundary. And judging by the corpse pile, whatever lives in there is hungry."

Vaelith stepped closer, scanning the gloom. The hallway widened suddenly into a rotunda-shaped chamber. Bits of shattered weaponry and snapped bones littered the floor. In the centre stood a rusted suit of armour—hollow, headless, and reeking of dark magic. Tattered standards of the old Umbraholme garrison clung to the far wall, scorched and fraying.

She narrowed her eyes.

"No movement yet," she said. "But that armour is suspicious. Probably going to animate the moment Elyssia crosses the threshold."

Kaelyn stepped up beside her. "It's like the girl earlier. They're not mindless. Not entirely."

"Maybe," Vaelith murmured. "But let's stay ready for when the dead stop resting politely."

Elyssia cracked her knuckles. "Time for round two."

Elyssia stepped across the boundary rune without hesitation.

The moment her boot passed the etched circle in the stone, the chamber groaned—deep and resonant, like the dungeon itself had drawn breath.

The suit of armour shuddered as a sickly blue-green light blazed from inside its chest cavity. Slowly, it moved.

Rust flaked from its joints as it rose with unnatural smoothness, an invisible force guiding its every motion. One gauntlet clenched into a fist. A long, chipped halberd floated up from the ground and slammed into its waiting hand with a magnetic clang.

It assumed a combat stance, holding its weapon parallel to the ground, pointed towards Elyssia.

The sylvani took the invitation and literally teleported ahead of the armour using her Dash ability. As soon as she appeared, ochre-energy gathered around her entire body, and she launched a powerful roundhouse kick, aiming at the animated armour's chest.

The boss twisted its arms, interposing the shaft of its halberd and parrying the attack. It then responded with a lightning-quick retaliatory strike with a wide lateral swipe of the weapon.

Elyssia blocked the swing with both tonfa raised in a crossed guard.

The blow hit like a falling tree, and the force launched her backward several paces, boots dragging twin gouges across the littered bones.

"Great, just great," she said, digging her heels in. She dashed immediately back into melee. "It's using a parry and riposte strategy. I can't counter a counterstrike."

"If you can't, then it probably can't either." Vaelith wondered aloud. "Focus on deflecting its attacks?"

She released a series of Telekinetic Blows against the armour. The projectiles shrieked their way to the creature, all homing straight for the dead centre of the chest. But as the projectile hit, rather than a sickening crunch or powerful impact, all Vaelith heard was a series of light plinks! The animated armour did not even show any reaction to the spell—no knock back, no recoil. It did not even assume a defensive position as they came flying to it.

"My spells aren't doing anything," Vaelith called.

"Just like my arrows in the previous battle," Leoric said. "Maybe arrows will work better."

He took aim and loosed a radiant arrow. It zipped across the battlefield and struck against the empty helm, causing a long ringing like a small gong.

"Didn't burn with holy fire. This thing isn't undead." Leoric said.

Vaelith watched as Elyssia parried one of the armour's regular attacks—much slower than its earlier riposte. The martial artist responded with a lightning-fast counter body tackle, but the armour parried the counter-attack with its polearm.

This isn't going anywhere...

"Check every corner of the battlefield! This thing appears impossible to damage. So, there must be some trick mechanic. Something might be controlling it!" Elyssia called out.

Vaelith's eyes darted across the chamber, and she saw Kaelyn and Leoric doing the same. "Nothing else spawned yet—wait…"

She turned, and there!—half-sunken into the collapsed remains of an alcove—stood a figure in dark robes. Stitch-bound sleeves hung from emaciated arms, and a blood-red stone floated above a Shadow sylvani's corpse-like visage. Just like the previous boss, his flesh was sewn back together. His mouth opened, and a chorus of whispers poured out.

"Found the caster!" Vaelith shouted. "He's there! Back-left corner!"

As if on cue, the suit's visor flared with sickly green light. It raised its halberd again—faster this time.

Elyssia barely dodged the cleave. "He's buffing it!"

Vaelith used Blink to teleport closer to the boss and fill her Arcane Charges. Her fingers blurred through arcane gestures, then thrust outward, releasing powered-up Telekinetic Blows.

Five violet missiles screamed through the air, aiming straight for the robed caster.

However, it raised one hand in the projectile's path, and the blood-red stone smoothly floated down in front of its palm, turning into a buckler of blood.

Vaelith's projectiles struck the shield, the impact causing small ripples in the blood, but no visible damage to the boss.

"Telekinetic Blows are no good!" Vaelith snapped. "It has some kind of magic shield!"

"Try again!" Leoric called, already sprinting along the outer edge of the chamber. "I'll circle behind—It only has one orb and probably can't defend from two sides at once."

Kaelyn raised her staff and cast Holy Shield and Prayer in quick succession—targeting Elyssia and overlaying her with a luminous healing sigil. "I'll keep Ely alive. You two, burn down that caster!"

The undead sylvani raised both arms—and the suit of armour responded instantly, spinning its halberd into a whirlwind strike.

Elyssia braced—caught part of the spin on her shoulder—and slammed her tonfa into the haft to disrupt the follow-up. The attack went through anyway, eating through Kaelyn's shield, which detonated with holy light as the last temporary hit point vanished. "Great… That was an unblockable tank-buster!"

Leoric found a vantage point along a broken pillar, nocked a holy arrow, and loosed it across the field.

The shot hit the caster squarely on the shoulder. This time, the creature reeled back, white flames bursting from the wound, burning and spreading fast.

"Holy damage works!" he shouted. "Kaelyn, can you assist?"

"On it!" the priestess said, holding one hand high as she began casting Holy Light. "It's a two seconds chant. Elyssia, you're on your own!"

"Got it!" the sylvani replied as she parried another attack. "Popping Featherfoot. Have fun!"

Vaelith Blinked forward and raised both hands. Telekinetic Blast. The pulse caught the caster mid-sigil, flinging it back against the stone and disrupting whatever spell it had begun.

Kaelyn's Holy Light landed a second later.

The undead caster shrieked as the magical tether linking it to the armour snapped visibly, unravelling like a strand of luminous thread.

The armour stumbled—halberd slowing for just a second.

"Keep at it; it's weakening!" Elyssia shouted.

Kaelyn's Blinding Speed activated, golden wings flaring behind her as she flew straight at the caster. It tried to interpose its blood buckler between them, but the priestess's body went right through it like it was made of wet paper.

A bright flare exploded when Kaelyn reached her target, forcing Vaelith to avert her eyes.

When the bright spots finally dissipated, she released another volley of Telekinetic Blows, aiming for the still-blinded boss.

Meanwhile, Leoric sent arrow after arrow into its back, each one glowing brighter than the last.

The undead caster howled as its robes caught fire. Stitchwork split. Bones began to glow red-hot from the divine pressure.

Then—at last—it crumpled.

The animated armour collapsed instantly, the halberd clattering to the floor with a hollow, defeated echo.

A moment passed, then another.

Vaelith exhaled, slow and deliberate. Her arms ached from the repeated casting motions, and her focus was fraying at the edges—but adrenaline kept her standing.

Kaelyn stood a few paces away, her golden wings flickering out like dying candlelight. She looked as if she had just run a marathon barefoot through a cathedral. Wide-eyed, silent. Not afraid—just… stunned.

Leoric lowered his bow. "Damn. That went sideways fast."

"This thing had me at a deadlock," Elyssia replied, brushing dirt off her sleeves. She leaned down to examine the fallen armour, still glowing faintly at the seams. "You all did well against the real boss."

She jerked her chin toward the fallen caster. Its robes still smoked faintly, the air thick with the scent of scorched flesh and incense.

"Another stitched-up creature," Vaelith noted. "Second one."

"This one was fighting by animating things," Leoric added, crouching next to the bloodstone buckler, which had reverted to a dull, pitted gem. "Maybe the whole dungeon is about puppeteering."

Vaelith rubbed her wrist and frowned. "Yeah. The armour was flawless—until we cut the strings."

Kaelyn stepped towards the centre of the room slowly, as if waking from a dream. She looked at the fallen corpse, then at the now-limp halberd.

"It wasn't evil," she murmured. "Just used."

Elyssia raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

A moment passed in silence—then a treasure chest shimmered into view behind the fallen caster, its rune-etched lid pulsing faintly with dungeon light.

"Loot's up," Leoric said. "Should we?"

"Sure. Let's see what we've got," Elyssia said. She gave Kaelyn an approving nod. "Good job, by the way. That was some light-speed exorcism, priestess."

Kaelyn flushed slightly but did not respond. Instead, she looked toward Vaelith, who was already moving toward the chest with calm precision.

"I'll open it," the mage said. "Let's see what stitched horror fashion awaits us next."

Vaelith crouched beside the chest and pressed her palm against the rune-lock. It hissed softly as the seal unwound, and the lid creaked open with a satisfying mechanical sigh.

Inside was black fabric, neatly folded, unnaturally pristine for something pulled from a treasure chest found inside a tomb.

"Robes," she said, reaching in.

She lifted them carefully—a single piece of stitched-up, jet-black attire that shimmered faintly with dark enchantment. Sleeveless, high-collared, cinched at the waist. The outer layer clung close like shadow-silk, with thread patterns snaking across the surface in jagged zigzags, as if someone had sewn the garment together from the memories of ten different uniforms.

But what caught everyone's attention were the seams: dozens of tiny, visible stitches in blood-red thread, trailing down from shoulder to cuff, across the ribs, and curling around the lower hem like surgical marks. Arcane symbols were faintly burned into the fabric at each anchor point—binding runes, no doubt.

"Umbraholme elite caster gear," Elyssia confirmed with a glance. "That's a blood mage body piece. Level eighteen healer gear."

She paused. "And yup. Stitched. Real Frankenstein fashion show in here."

"Looks like it has both spell power and healing potency," Vaelith said. "Half of those are wasted on me."

Leoric gave a low whistle. "That's… kind of gorgeous. In a gothic funeral-parade sort of way."

Kaelyn did not speak. She stepped forward slowly, eyes on the robe—drawn to it, and yet resisting.

Elyssia noticed and tilted her head. "Technically, it's your drop, priestess. Want it?"

Kaelyn reached out but stopped just short of touching it. "It's… beautiful," she breathed. "But also…"

"Grim?" Leoric offered.

Kaelyn shook her head. "And familiar. The stitchwork. The way it's held together by force instead of design. It feels like…"

She trailed off. But Vaelith could imagine the rest.

It feels like us.

"Patched together, but still functional," Vaelith said quietly. "It's how a lot of us survive."

Kaelyn met her eyes and managed a tiny, crooked smile. "Yeah."

Elyssia cleared her throat, giving them both a moment before continuing. "Well, it's yours if you'll use it. And even if not—take it anyway. You earned it."

Kaelyn hesitated, then reached down and lifted the robe. The weight of it settled over her hands like a secret.

"I'll treasure it," she said.

"Until you hit level twenty-five and you can wear the one I made you earlier." Vaelith said, grinning.

Kaelyn nodded slowly, although Vaelith was convinced it was not in response to what she just said.

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