The sun was setting as the Spellswords and Evermore's Flame lay in ambush.

  Waiting.

  Ignoring the heat and the hardness of the ground and the swarms of tiny biting insects, four of their number crouched by the summit of the hill where it dropped off into a shallow gorge. Barely breathing. Ears straining. Eyes squinting.

  Waiting.

  Fodrin twitched, and his beaver-like tail lashed out to splat a fly that landed on his leg.

  It was the only sound one of them had made in half an hour, and Sirrochon and Eldun both glared at him, but neither opened their mouths to reprimand his actions.

  Because they were waiting.

  A dull and unenviable task, but one they were resolved to see through. The alternative was spending days longer fruitlessly chasing sights and sounds around this blasted wilderness, and they were on borrowed time as it was - finances shored up by the council and [Councillor] Gilded Paw’s personal wealth. The sooner it was over, the sooner they could find other work. Maybe leave the area for more promising ground.

  It was a conversation they'd had more than once over the past week. Move up to the Ruins of Kelmari and delve into the expanse of ancient tunnels in the hope that they could uncover a chamber others had missed? Head into the mountains and search for any caverns or caves that might hold forgotten riches or rare minerals? Or even heading down to the Dirgeplains and doing some mercenary work. Anything to get out of this backwater place and find adventure.

  But they had a job to do first. One they needed to complete to fund resupplying and travel after too long lounging around the town drinking, and this spot was the only place nearby they’d found tracks indicating the passing of [Bandits]. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.

  Almost suspiciously so...

  —

  Marie gasped as she raced to the top of the stairs. If that hadn’t drawn the attention of the dozen or so people in the hall, the clattering of Napoleon rushing up after her had, but their stares went unnoticed as the combination [Scout], [Secretary] and [Ruins Delver] sprinted for the door ahead and burst through without knocking.

  Inside, [Guildmaster] Thunderous Roar looked up from a canvas and easel, and raised an eyebrow.

  “The [Bandit] quest.” Her breath came in heaving gasps. “It is not Silver-ranked. It is Gold.”

  Any notion that Thror was an ineffectual leader of the guild vanished in that moment, as she found herself suddenly reeling and staring at an empty room. Before she could fully turn, the tabaxi’s voice tore through the building like his name.

  “To arms!”

  As the guild hall burst into a frenzy of panicked activity, Thror turned back from the balcony where he now stood, grabbed her in one arm and leapt down to the ground floor. Her insides rose as they fell, but his knees bent as he hit the floor and, beyond a sudden lurch, the impact that she had no time to anticipate failed to materialise.

  Suppressing a sudden queasiness, she felt a rush of acceleration once again, and then she was standing in front of the counter with the quest log at hand, open to the current page as Thror scanned the contents in seconds. She couldn’t tell what Skills he used, but a moment later he’d turned back to her, expression grim.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  —

  Sirrochon practically vibrated as he sensed battle drawing closer. This one was going to form the basis for a new song, he could feel it.

  A hundred feet below the rocky outcrop and half a mile off still, the vague hint of the [Bandit] group could be seen only where the setting sun reflected off metal. They wended their way through low brush and hills, keeping out of sight from anyone without a vantage point over the rugged wilderness.

  Ten more minutes and t-

  A tug at his jacket interrupted his musings and an idle thought about rhyming hillocks with… well, that didn’t matter now that Eldun was trying to get his attention.

  The leader of Evermore’s Flame carefully inclined his head back towards the lee of the hill, where the rest of their parties were waiting. Sirrochon nodded and checked that Fodrin and Rina were still keeping tabs on their quarry before shuffling back out of sight and hurrying down to the base where the two teams were sharing some cold cuts and water.

  As he left the top he whispered into the stone Dap had given him.

  "coming down. no alarm."

  Even with the [Bandits] still a way off, and the dampening qualities of the vegetation that thrived in this place, they still kept their voices as low as possible. You could never tell enemy Skills...

  “You want to go over the plan?” Sirrochon muttered as he reached the base a second after his counterpart. “Or just get dressed?”

  Eldun didn’t cut quite so impressive a figure out of his armour, but after a couple of weeks in the wilderness and not much else to do, Sirro had learned both to respect his prowess, and not to bet against him in an arm wrestle.

  The shorter man, who couldn’t yet have reached his thirties, shook his head as Dappled Shadow joined them. Chuffa and Leaping Mist wandered over with last-minute refreshments, leaving only Brunalda and Quartz sitting in quiet conversation by their supplies and Chuffa’s horse.

  Eldun rubbed his temples.

  “I don’t like this Sirro.”

  “Huh?"

  “I don’t like it. I can’t help feeling like something’s wrong.”

  Ever Sirrochon’s second-in-command, Dap looked the man up and down.

  “You got a Skill warning you?”

  “No. Just a feeling.”

  Leam’s nose twitched in disapproval.

  “Bit late to be getting cold paws. I’m feeling like we need to finish this damned quest today.”

  “We all got feelings.” Chuffa’s low growl was the quietest he could manage. “But if the boss says something’s off, we listen.”

  “I don’t have to listen to you, you’re not my s-”

  Sirrochon cut the [Cutterwaul Fighter] off before another argument could break out. The discovery of the tracks had been the only thing holding them together this past day.

  “You don’t have a Skill, Eld, but could they have a Skill? Some sort of deterrence to would-be ambushers? That what you feeling?”

  There was a moment of hesitation in Eldun’s shoulders before he shook his head.

  “If none of the rest of you are feeling it, then I doubt it.”

  It would have to be a very specific Skill. Quartz was the oldest, Brunalda was objectively the most dangerous of them, Rina was the youngest and weakest both. What kind of Skill would pick out Eldun alone? One completely at random perhaps? It couldn’t be about leadership as Sirro felt nothing himself. No. This was either nerves, or pure intuition.

  Sometimes you had to ignore both, as an adventurer, but the Spellswords and Evermore’s had been living that lifestyle for a number of years now…

  Sirrochon looked back up at the summit of the hill where Fodrin and Rina still monitored the bandit’s progress, then at the four around him, and began to activate his Skills.

  “Okay, what’s the play? I don’t want to let them get away. Unless there’s real cause for a delay, I’d like see them dead this day.”

  —

  “I do not know anything, [Guildmaster], only that my Skill says the mission to find the [Bandits] is a Gold-ranked quest.”

  Marie was doing all she could to keep calm and logical, and the rest of the guild erupting into a frenzy of activity wasn’t helping. She bent down to pick up Napoleon as the skeletal hound cantered over, and gripped him tight as Thror closed his eyes for a moment then called in a voice that cut across the guild and out into the town.

  “Wilhelmina!”

  The currently vermillion-haired woman came sprinting in moments later, faster than Marie had ever seen her move.

  “Yes [Guildmaster]!”

  The tabaxi stared down at her, and pointed to the scouting mission in the logbook that Marie had added only a minute before.

  “Appraise me for this quest.”

  The [Secretary]’s eyebrows shot up but she didn’t hesitate to do as he asked, taking in the page and the hulking tabaxi in one quick glance.

  “[Gauge Fitness].”

  Then her eyebrows climbed even higher into her hairline.

  “...b-b-bad outlook, Sir.”

  “How bad?”

  “Low chance of success…h-high chance of injury or d-death.”

  Thror let out a curse in a language Marie didn’t recognise, but the force of the word hurt her ears.

  “Okay, so likely high Gold-rank then. If the [Bandits] are the issue it’s probably numbers. Try it again, but for everyone in the room.”

  Swallowing this time, and holding a hand to her head as if bracing for a migrane, Wilhelmina took a second to sweep her gaze across the dozen or so milling adventurers - strapping on armour, checking weapons, stuffing their belongings into packs - before finishing on the quest log again.

  “[Gauge Fitness].”

  This time, she paled, and said nothing until Thror growled and poked her in the chest.

  “...low chance of success. High chance of injury or death of many, though your personal chances of survival are much higher.”

  “Damn it all to the Gates of Zatharr. We need more information, and more bodies. I’m going to summon the council. Wilhelmina, get Rudi and Greeleena in. Use any Skills you have. Ask if anyone here has something that can clarify the situation. Marie, get to the Watchhouse and raise the alarm. Anything this dangerous could be a threat to the whole town.”

  Marie baulked but nodded and started running, still clutching Napoleon, as Wilhelmina rushed out to get the other members of the guild’s staff.

  As she exited the building in the centre Wayfarrow, she could already hear the disembodied voice of Thror, this time in her mind.

  ‘Attention adventurers of Wayfarrow. Anyone of Silver-rank and above is to prepare for immediate action and report to the guild at once. Emergency procedures are now in place. Anyone of Bronze-rank or below is to prepare to stand in defence of the city. Report to the Watch. Do not cause a panic. Bring every tool you have. You have ten minutes.'

  She hadn’t even gotten to the end of the street before Thror blew past her, but one thought struck her as she ran.

  Merde. If he is not enough for this threat, what hope do the rest of us have?

  A second later, a more urgent thought resurfaced.

  What exactly are the Spellswords and Evermore’s facing…

  —

  Sirrochon paused, breathing harder than he'd have liked as they jogged through the narrow pass. The sound of hoof striking stone gave him pause, and he drew his sword and readied himself alongside the rest of the Spellswords and Evermore’s.

  The pounding of hooves echoing off the hills grew suddenly louder as the horse burst into view.

  The adventurers relaxed their grip on their weapons only a fraction as Chuffa skidded to a halt, his mount sending up a spray of stone and clods of earth.

  “There's movement on the hilltops to the east. Maybe not as many as behind us, but who knows what's lurking around them.”

  They all turned to Eldun.

  In the half an hour since they’d abandoned their ambush spot, he’d been leading them through what little sheltered terrain could be found, and he frowned.

  “Everywhere we move they seem to be waiting. Everywhere except the south.”

  Rina was breathing harder than anyone. [Rogues] weren't known for their stamina... or their tactical thinking.

  “Well let's head south fast then. See if we can outpace them.”

  “I like that even less.” Eldun said, and Sirro had to agree.

  “It's like they're trying to herd us. They want us to go south; we'd do well to head anywhere else.” He glanced round his Spellswords and Evermore’s Flame, ignoring the heaving chests and faint the trembling in the youngest amongst them. “Options?”

  “We can't head north.” Dap said. “We left the hilltop because Eldun felt something was off; if they had something planned they must have enough numbers to see it through.”

  “East or west then.” Quartz huffed, struggling with shorter legs through the untamed wilderness. “I say east - head for the road.”

  “Less cover that way.” Brunalda peered in the direction as if she could see through the intervening hillside. “We'd be exposed.”

  “We're already caught with our pants down and our arses hanging out ready to be fucked. How much worse can it get?”

  “Ask that again when you have an arrow sticking out from between your cheeks.”

  Ignoring the bickering breaking out, Eldun turned to Sirrochon.

  “I made the call before. It's your turn. East or west?”

  Sirrochon hesitated only for a moment.

  “West. We try to cut to the north and slip by." He glanced at the ones breathing more easily. "Chuffa, Brunalda, Leam, keep heading south for a couple of minutes. Make the trail obvious, then swing back round to join us. Everyone else, light on your feet. We'll give them the slip. [Metered Foot: Rhythm of Grace], [Whispered Refrain]. Let's go.”

  —

  A handful of men and women of different species were already sprinting down the street in the direction of the adventures guild. Marie knew some and recognised others from files she’d mostly compiled herself.

  Her feet flew as she headed for the Watchhouse. A blurred form dodged round her as she turned the corner, and a tight-jawed Chiritta hurtled past without so much as pausing to question what was going on.

  The two-storey grey-stone block that was the Watchhouse came into view as she turned down the final street; squatter and with a more military feel than the adventurer’s guild, she had little cause to love it, but as she considered what might be to come she was nonetheless glad to see it.

  The front doors were open, men and women with spear and shield coming and going, and she ran straight in, leaving shouts of surprise and alarm in her wake.

  She almost reached the front desk before something stopped her.

  “[Halt Runner].”

  A handful of the Watch began to shout and one hurdled a low wall that divided the guard’s area from the public section, pulling a sword as he did, to stand before the door to the cells as if she were here to break someone out.

  But she had more immediate concerns than the imprisoned allagi, as her movement was arrested but her momentum was not, and the floor began to tilt up in her vision in a rather alarming manner.

  The [Watch Sergeant] was on her a second later, and before she could faceplant the flagstone floor two pairs of hands steadied her, and another took Napoleon from her arms. The Skill faded a second later and she began to shout over the questions of the guards.

  “I need to alert [Watch Commander] Amit!”

  “Who might you be?”

  “Alert him to wh-”

  “Yowch!”

  The third voice came as the woman holding Napoleon received a sharp nip from his skeletal jaws, though it only made her hold him more carefully.

  She was saved the need of a fruitless back-and-forth by the appearance of Amit himself, surveying the sudden chaos in his station before settling on her.

  At his expression she had a sudden realisation that she might not have been the best messenger for this role.

  His voice cut across the commotion.

  “It seems Miss Marie misses the cells. Oblige her by acquainting her with one until I have the time to bother with whatever this is.”

  He’d already turned away to go back to his office when Marie broke out of her captors' grip.

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  [Snap Kick]. [Swift Blow].

  The sudden assault took the two guards by surprise, and even if they had Skills of their own, they found themselves on the receiving end of her [Staggering Blows], and as soon as their grasp loosened she activated another.

  [Mighty Leap]!

  She soared through the air…

  …for about a second, until a dozen Skills from members of the Watch assailed her and brought her crashing to the ground.

  More than a score were now reaching for spears, swords and clubs as they stared at the mad woman who had decided to pick a fight in the middle of the town’s constabulary force, which sent a shock of fear through her as she began to regret her move, but it had got Amit’s attention again, and his obvious lack of concern at the threat she posed made the other guards hesitate.

  “I took you down once before, Miss Marie. It would be a pleasure to t-”

  “This is a guild emergency! There is a Gold-ranked threat!”

  In the second that followed, the [Watch Commander] visibly went through several emotions, starting from disinterest, to disbelief, to fear, before landing squarely on determination.

  In that instant, his attitude towards her changed from ill-concealed hostility to dead-faced professionalism.

  “Brellin, fetch [Captain] Golgorin and rouse every member of the Watch not on duty. Get them here and kitted out for battle. Orseth, take ten people and get to the major hubs - keep the streets cleared of civilians and quell any panic before it gets out of hand.” Two guards nodded and began running. The [Watch Commander] turned to Marie. “Inside or outside the town?”

  “Outside - the [Bandits].”

  “Tomanno, take everyone that’s cleared for combat to the walls - even spread, eyes out. Prepare to relocate at my signal.”

  The station erupted in a flurry of activity until the only two people left standing still were Amit and Maire, only a few feet from each other. As he spun back to her all trace of hostility was gone from his eyes. Instead, it was as if he were tracking something else entirely.

  Is he using a Skill?

  She was interrupted both by one of the Watch plonking Napoleon back into her arms, and the [Commander]’s question.

  “Is there any information you can give me? I need to alert the council.”

  “[Guildmaster] Thror has already gone. He should be back at the guild in… less than ten minutes.”

  “We go there then and coordinate. What about the threat - is there any more you know?”

  “It is…a high Gold-ranked threat? Wilhelmina said that even with all we had in the guild hall a minute ago we would be in great danger. Thror has called for all the adventurers in the city to gather.”

  “Shit. [Sergeant] Rashwood get me the list of every individual in town over level 30, any Class.”

  As soon as the parchment was in his hand he started walking and beckoned Marie to follow.

  The Watchhouse was half-empty as they exited, most of the [Guards] rushing towards the walls and the major junctions, and as he turned towards the adventurer’s guild and scanned the list he began to call out Skills.

  “[Enforce Authority: Wayfarrow], [Expand Aura], [Commander’s Orders: Rapid Deployment], [Sound the Alarm]...”

  Warning bells began to toll throughout the town, and the people on the street, already watching on in concern, began to rush back towards their houses and shut the doors.

  “...My [Dangersense] isn’t ringing yet, Miss Marie. That tells me the threat is either beyond my ability to detect or that we have some time. How did you find out?”

  “A Skill: [Threat Assessment] on a quest I posted.”

  “Damn, then it could be that an indirect Skill works where [Dangersense] wouldn’t.”

  Marie realised they were already at the guild, and had a spark of inspiration.

  “I can test that!”

  She rushed in to a hall of unorganised chaos, Amit hot on her heels, and raced for the quest log, dumping Napoleon on the counter top as she pulled the weighty tome over.

  [Mental Ledger]

  Description: Defend Wayfarrow from any immediate threat arising within the next twenty-four hours.

  Requestor: Marie Dubois.

  Date: 3rd of Falmune, AoR 1182

  Threat Level: Bronze-rank

  Deadline: Immediate

  Payment: None

  Additional Notes: None.

  Adventurers Accepted: Marie Dubois Only.

  Status: Accepted

  Date Completed: TBD

  Outcome: TBD

  Sign-Off: Marie Dubois.

  “[Post Quest: Wayfarrow Adventurer’s Guild].”

  The text began to appear in the logbook and she scanned it along with the [Watch Commander] as it did.

  She waited until it had fully appeared before she confirmed her feeling.

  “It is… uncertain. It does not feel like the other quest.”

  Amit hesitated.

  “Best case it means the danger may pass the town by, but we need to be ready for if worse comes to pass. Keep the book with you, Miss, and check it every few minutes. Notify me if anything changes. I’m going to step outside and direct my people; if Thror returns and I don’t follow, send for me immediately.”

  Marie nodded her assent as he made for the main entrance and strode out into the street, calling orders to the passing Watch, and stood, staring at the quest for both the defence of the town and [Bandit] scouting, willing the danger she felt to fall.

  —

  The ‘[Bandit]’ he was fighting died with Sirro’s sword through his neck, eyes bleeding from a blast of pure sound to the face, but a couple more ran off shouting for reinforcements at the top of their lungs.

  Fodrin’s crossbow made one of their heads explode like a rotten melon dropped from a belltower, but the other was out of sight too fast to stop.

  “They already know where we are.” Eldun said, restraining Quartz who snarled out a curse at the disappeared man, and picked his knife out of the back of one of the few fallen ones.

  There was a grunt as Leaping Mist pulled an arrow from Brunalda’s shoulder, but it was from the tabaxi; the giant [Mage] barely flinched. Then again, the injury was a mere pinprick to someone her size.

  Rina was not so lucky, and wavered on her feet as Dap bandaged the gash in her arm.

  “Ten seconds,” Sirrochon growled, “then we’re running again.”

  “Rina won’t be able to keep up…” Dap warned, but as she finished tying the cloth tight, Chuffa hauled the [Rogue] up to the saddle in front of him and held her with one arm.

  “Let’s go.”

  It was dark, or as dark as the summer night would get, but the lack of light wasn’t helping them escape the trap that had been set.

  The slowest in an outright sprint, Quartz led a new attempt to slip through the tightening net - one that must have been set miles out and hours before - but as Sirrochon dropped back to Eldun at the rear, the captain of the Spellswords muttered his fear, dragging air into lungs that had been burning for the last twenty minutes of frantic fleeing through the hills and scrubland.

  “If they’re [Bandits] I’ll give you the Spellsword’s share of the bounty we’re not going to survive to pick up.”

  [Bandits] wouldn’t be this much trouble. Not unless they were led by a [Bandit King]...

  They’d yet to run into a group of more than six as they fled their abandoned ambush, yet none of them had emerged unscathed.

  They must all be at least close to Silver-ranked…

  Armour dirtied but moving in near-silence under the final minutes of Sirrochon’s Skill, Eldun kept one eye on the trail ahead, the other swollen shut, as he replied.

  “Definitely not simple [Bandits] with that equipment and tactics. [Mercenaries] looking for loot? Or a raiding party?”

  Sirro shook his head, though the other wasn’t watching.

  “[Raiders] would have more horse; we’d not have evaded them this long, and what [Mercenary] would rob carts out amongst the faded notes of a forgotten chord when they could make a perfectly good living further south?”

  Neither of them wanted to give voice to the alternative. Varethis was a powerful country, and a large one - it took up most of the northern third of the continent. That power made it a dangerous foe, but its size left it open to attack, and it didn’t want for enemies. Most of the time, the southern countries waged a proxy-war through the Border Barons in the Dirgeplains, battered keeps and castles changing hands every season, but every now and then an actual incursion would be launched by an over-confident general…

  … or even worse, an over-competent general.

  Eldun finally took his eyes off the path to glance over his shoulder, to the south.

  “Surely not that. There’s nothing for them here. Wayfarrow is the only town within a hundred miles of the border and it isn’t worth launching an invasion for. It’s barely even worth settling for a civilian.”

  Sirrochon had no answer to that undeniable truth, so he didn’t comment. Instead, he tried to ignore the pain of half a dozen open cuts and kept throwing one foot down in front of another as the nine adventurers fled from what was surely more than ten times their number.

  —

  Marie’s eyes darted down to the page for the hundredth time since Amit had given her the task barely two minutes ago, but nothing was changing.

  And I am not helping just standing here.

  Wilhelmina still wasn’t back with the others, so she was the only [Secretary] on duty, and from the shouts and scrambling of the adventurers as they donned armour and checked gear and weapons, she realised they had no idea of what to do until Thror came back.

  A second later, Marie was standing on the reception counter.

  “Hey! Quiet down and listen!”

  She had to repeat herself a couple more times at the top of her lungs, but as the men and women in the guild began to realise someone might know more about what was happening, heads began to turn her way, helped by Chiritta and a newly-arrived Dusty cuffing the last few lower-ranked individuals that had been overcome by panic. With all eyes on her, Marie cleared her throat.

  “There is a high-level threat that may be coming this way, and Sirrochon’s Spellswords and Evermore's Flame may be in danger. I cannot tell you any more details as we do not have any yet, but we must be prepared...”

  The simple act of someone taking charge focused the room, despite there being no more information than the moments before. Men and women began to carry out their preparation routines in silence and with purpose as they listened, and as more people entered, including Rudi, the others filled them in as to what was happening.

  “...Rudi, take everyone that thinks they might need standard gear to storeroom six and see that they get the weapons and armour they require…”

  Rudi nodded and immediately began to wave people over in the direction of one of the back rooms.

  “...Dusty, could you head to the workshop by the back entrance and see if Osric Bristleback is still here, and if he has any potions to hand. Any at all…”

  Then, as Greeleena and Wilhelmina burst in at a dead run.

  “...Greeleena, get any magical equipment the guild has in the vault. Wilhelmina, split the room into Silver- and Bronze-rank, and the Silvers into those who can move quickly and those who can't. And start to match up the magic items with the adventurers that could best use them…” she had to raise her voice over the hubbub that announcement caused “...though please note these are just a loan, and that [Guildmaster] Thror may alter how they are distributed.”

  “May alter how what is distributed?”

  Marie jumped and almost hit her head on a wooden chandelier that hung above the counter.

  “[Guildmaster]! I am just getting the adventurers prepared. I sent Greeleena to retrieve the magical items.”

  Just in case.

  Half a dozen others were filing in after the dark-furred tabaxi, and [Watch Commander] Amit was barely a few seconds behind them. Thror took it all in.

  “Excellent work. Amorina, there's a Shield of Fortification in there that I want you to take - get to the wall and place yourself under the command of the Watch when you do. Make sure any other Silvers that turn up there are sent our way. Amit - who’s in charge over there at the moment?”

  The [Watch Commander] was looking to Marie, eyes asking if the quest had changed, and a quick check with her Skill confirmed it was the same. Nevertheless, he answered as she shook her head, using a Skill of his own with one hand to his temple as he did.

  “[Captain] Rhonda, though I'll be taking over as soon as we have a better idea of what's coming.”

  The scarred woman Thror had picked out nodded and followed Greeleena, clearly relieved to have her orders. The other men and women that had come in with Thror fanned out, and Marie recognised the council, absent Lord Entoll for some reason, but not the bear-faced beastkin that had joined them. Introductions were not forthcoming as the [Guildmaster] began issuing orders.

  “Okay, with what little we've got to work with, here's what we know: there's a high Gold-ranked danger close enough to be a threat to the town, and two teams are in imminent danger.” He looked to Marie for a second to confirm it with a nod. “As things stand, [Mayor] Atherton has found a [Risk Analysis] of Wayfarrow coming under attack at thirty-one percent-”

  “It’s too high. You have to do something about it. The council-”

  “I’m well aware of what you want me to do, Atherton, and if you try to use a Skill on me again we'll have to appoint an interim [Mayor] whilst you recover."

  The older man paled and backed down, but the only tabaxi on the council, the round-bodied [Merchant] Gil, took up his point, albeit in a more reasonable fashion.

  “We need to head the threat off before it reaches Wayfarrow, whether it's [Bandits] or a monster or anything in between. I don't care who you put on them; the walls aren't ensorcelled or large enough to stop a Gold-ranked threat, and we don't have the numbers to defend it.”

  Thror gave a resigned sigh.

  “Agreed, and as risky as it is, the two teams in question are of good standing and on official business for the town. We need to try and get them out of whatever trouble they're in. We'll mostly leave the Bronze-ranks manning the walls and take the Silvers out as I'd planned. [Emergency Request: Open the Coffers]. [Guildmaster’s Prerogative: Pay for Quality].” The men and women around the room began to move quicker and with more coordination, and Marie felt a modicum of her exhaustion and nervousness fade. “[Councillors], what aid can the town provide?”

  Though he looked to Amit, Gil was the first to respond.

  “I'll come.”

  A few brows furrowed in question, but Thror accepted the assistance of the [Merchant] without batting an eyelid. The [Watch Commander] was next to speak up.

  “My people won't be half so good outside the town; all our Skills are magnified in the protection of Wayfarrow. We'll patrol half mile out and keep watching but beyond that we've not much to offer unless the town is under attack.”

  “Then I'd like for the Watch's horses to be made available to the guild for the duration of the crisis.”

  Amit only thought for a second before agreeing to the [Guildmaster]’s request.

  “All but four - we'll keep them for our highest-level officers in case we have to sally out and cover a retreat.”

  Thror nodded and turned as another figure Marie recognised entered.

  [Chief Librarian] Ununcia strolled in with an open book in one hand.

  “...my apologies. I'm afraid I was in the middle of some research and quite missed the commotion. What's going on? [Instant Summarisation]. Ah, right. I shall require one of those horses too then; I don't have any travel Skills but I can ride rather well.”

  “Lady Kypria, I'd be glad to have you along. Is there anyt-”

  “[Anticipate Requests]. Oh dear. [Background Reading]...hmm. ‘Tactics and Fighting Styles of the Southern Realms by Harkness and Greene’. [Bandits] with a military background perhaps? Deserters? Well then, I suppose… [Book Lookup: Great Warriors]; Urthwine is it? Now, which one of the [Readers] had the - oh, yes [Subordinate’s Skill: Samira Alcallow]; [Pagewalker: The Tales of Urthwine the Mighty].”

  The others looked on as the librarian began spouting off Skills to herself, until Thror cleared his throat.

  “Lady Kypria, is there anything you need?”

  “[Let Knowledge Be My Armour].” She looked up as pages began to fly out of the air around her and swirl into a shape that, to Marie at least, resembled nothing so much as ancient Chinese battlewear. “Oh, what was that? Yes. Do you have whatever kind of weapon Urthwine the Mighty used?”

  “Wilhelmina, fetch Lady Kypria a flamberge if we have one.”

  —

  Fodrin lost a chunk of his tail and went stumbling back as the two adventuring groups tried to break through a stretch of open ground towards the east.

  The battle raged in deadly silence. It wasn't just the Skills that Evermore’s and the Spellswords were using to try and mask their passage, but the lack of energy they had to scream and shout.

  With leaden limbs, lungs on fire, and a bone-deep exhaustion that had long since set in and been accepted, it was all they could do to keep their weapons up and their feet moving.

  There was no energy for battlecries or curses or calls for aid, not when the [Bandits] they were facing were now definitely Silver-rank equivalent.

  Blackness and shadows flickered where bodies caught the moonlight or the reflection of a Skill or spell.

  Sirrochon brought his blade round in a vicious arc, slicing for the head of a [Bandit] twice his age but equal in levels.

  Teeth bared in an animalistic snarl, the grey-haired man blocked both Sirrochon and a blow from Leam, and a Skill sent the axe-wielding tabaxi flying back, a broken nose the newest of the wounds he bore.

  Sirrochon spat a glob of blood from his mouth and retreated a step as his sword sang, the pitch of its passing sharp enough to sever the top of the [Bandit]’s ear.

  [Deadly Refrain]!

  A spectral sword followed the same arc his real one had, and this time it cut deep into the [Bandit]'s head. The older man dropped without a sound, a faint expression of surprise passing across his face as the life disappeared from his eyes.

  They went down hard, if they went down at all.

  With his opponent finally dealt with, Sirrochon lurched forwards, skewering a lizardman through the side as the scaled foe swiped at Eldun, who was holding off three by himself until the rest of his friends could finish their fights.

  He flinched back as a streak of white light flashed past his face close enough to char his skin.

  A spellcaster of some sort was covering the retreat of the lizardman, but a second later it laid off its assault as a crossbow bolt as long as Sirrochon’s arm forced it to throw up a {Shield} spell or sprout a lethal length of wood from its forehead.

  There was no time to thank the [Deadeye], or even catch his breath, as another bunch of [Bandits] came out of the darkness from the south.

  Is it south? Where even is everything?

  [Grand C-

  “{Earthblast}!”

  The three rapidly-approaching enemies and the cowering spellcaster disappeared in an explosion of soil and stone as part of the hillside they were fighting round erupted with the force of a miniature volcano and sent them tumbling back, bloodied and battered.

  With the sudden change in pace, Dap, Chuffa and Leam all threw themselves onto the trio Eldun had been tying down and, with a flurry of Skills they'd been saving for just such an opening, dispatched them as if they were no more than mindless skeletons.

  “Keep going. Further east.”

  How Eldun had energy left to exhort them onwards was a mystery, but his voice echoed out from inside his helmet.

  The bastard must have [Greater Endurance].

  Sirrochon cast a quick glance round as everyone took off running again, though to call it running was generous, and it wasn't everyone.

  Rina wasn't moving atop Chuffa’s horse. Not of her own volition at least. It was hard to tell her condition in the moonlight, but she was deathly pale.

  Part of him hoped the last of their potions that they'd forced down her throat was enough to keep her clinging to life as they scrambled for safety.

  Another part of him hoped they hadn't just wasted the only bit of healing they had left to them.

  There's enough of us that need it.

  The earth shook once more, but this time it was from the footfalls of Brunalda as she loped forwards with a gait that would have crushed any of her teammates had they been in her way.

  The Goliath [Mage] had always presented as a gentle giant, but after the last hour…hours?... Sirrochon rated her as the most terrifying of them all. The amount of magic she'd thrown around…

  Do larger bodies hold more mana?

  Yet she was perhaps the one besides Rina in most dire need of healing.

  Looming and terrifyingly threatening, she naturally drew the most attention from the '[Bandits]', and her face and hands and clothing were a testament to that - oozing blood which seeped from the countless lacerations where they'd sought to breech the defensive spells she'd layered on herself, or from the arrowheads still embedded in her skin where her magic hadn’t been up to the task.

  Quartz stumbled, leg giving out for a second where he'd been too slow tumbling out of the way of a sweeping spearhaft, but before he could go down, the gnoll [Dust Striker] picked the quartering up one-handed and tossed him onto the back of his laboured mount with the hopefully-unconscious Rina.

  For once, Quartz didn't have a quip prepared. He had no breath to complain.

  The half-dozen dazed or dead bodies of their foes disappeared from view as they forced aching legs to move, but Sirrochon could hear shouts echoing from around the undulating expanse of wilderness. A sudden roaring off to the west almost made him chuckle.

  Apparently they aren't as good at spotting a Broccsus’ lair as we are.

  Dap was sucking down lungfuls of air with a disconcerting wheeze as she drew level with him.

  “I'm out. Boss. I used. Everything. I had. In that last. Skirmish.”

  He tried to nod, but with the lack of light and their focus on putting one foot in front of the other, he didn't think she could see.

  “Me. Too.” He cursed the constant running and the ones that were forcing them to do it, and laid a hand on her back, giving her as much of a boost forwards as he could without passing out from the effort.

  She didn't reply. Didn't thank him.

  She didn't have to; they both knew what the gesture meant.

  Just keep going. We've got to keep moving.

  —

  Half a hundred people rushed out of the adventurer’s guildhall as the final preparations were thrown together, heading for the south-west of the city. Marie knew most of them - the active adventurers - and the others were made up of the [Councillors], retired adventurers and citizens over level 30.

  There are so few of them…

  “You're sure that's the right direction?” Atherton’s face was tight with tension.

  One of the retired Silver-rank adventurers nodded at the [Mayor]’s question.

  “Yes Sir. [Advanced Dangersense] is warning me off that way. Hasn't let me down yet.”

  Marie found herself, a spade in one hand and a pan in the other, running alongside Chiritta, Dusty, Embris and Aelind? at the head of the group, Napoleon keeping pace at her heels, her face dripping with sweat from the exertion and the heat and the rush and the press of bodies that had been milling round the guild over the past twenty-five minutes, and even if she wasn’t the worst affected of the group, her feeling of anxiety grew.

  Less than half an hour since the alarm was raised, but there is still miles upon miles of wilderness to cross, and we do not know where exactly the others are…

  …we are being too slow.

  “[Guildmaster] Thror?”

  He glanced over at her call, raising an eyebrow.

  “I had Wilhelmina split the Silver-ranks into a faster group and a slower group.”

  He nodded his understanding and began to yell out orders, drawing attention from the faces of civilians that peeked out of windows and doorways as the mob of adventurers and Wayfarrow’s council rushed past.

  “Bronze-ranks, get to the wall. Those of you in the fast-response group, with me. The rest of you will follow as quickly as you can under the command of Kalminash. Gil, stick with the slower group.”

  “I'll get my cart.” The rotund [Merchant] broke off, moving at a surprising pace for one of his bulk, though sweat still flew off him.

  As he disappeared round a corner, Thror beckoned Marie closer.

  “I’ll need you with me. We've got [Hunters] and [Adventurers] but no one here is close to Silver with [Tracker] or [Scout] Skills bar you. Are you up for it?”

  “Of course. I will do everything I can.”

  The groups began to split, and nine adventurers, including the Silver-ranks that had worked with Sirrochon and Eldun before, followed Thror and Marie as they headed for the closest gate. They were joined a minute later by six figures on horses.

  “This was all the Watch had ready to go.” Lady Kypria said. The [Chief Librarian] currently looked more like a warrior than anyone else in the group, albeit one wearing spectacles and with ink stains on her fingers. “They'll send more as soon as they can.”

  This is not enough.

  Thror waved for them to join.

  “Anyone who has travel Skills, now's the time to use them.”

  Chiritta and two others shouted out abilities and they sped down the street, feet practically flying as they began to outpace the group, until Thror leaned over and murmured, with the only hint of a smile she'd seen since on his or anyone else's face since she’d raised the alarm.

  “May as well test out my new Skills, courtesy of your interference, I think. [Tax Anything]. [Guildmaster's Boon: Temporary Perks].”

  The three adventurers in the lead slowed perceptibly, but everyone else began to speed up, and they blew through the gate before the Watch on duty could wish them good luck. They were a few hundred yards beyond the town walls before anyone registered the gathered figures waiting down the road.

  Algar’s Hunters and a handful of other allagi Marie vaguely recognised, along with a certain [Butcher] she definitely did know were clustered a quarter of a mile out.

  Rather than slow their pace, Thror hailed them as they approached, his voice rolling out over the plains that surrounded Wayfarrow.

  “You're needed on the walls.”

  Algar was the one to reply, speaking for the group.

  “If we join you in facing whatever this danger is, will we get paid appropriately?”

  The swifter Silver-ranked group was almost on top of them. For his part, Thror visibly hesitated before replying, in his speech if not his speed.

  “Yes, but it's a Gold-ranked threat, and unless you can keep pace with a horse, you join the second group.”

  Without a word, Algar circled a hand above his head and four allagi joined him as they attached themselves to Thror's group, whilst the rest, including Braer, waited for the second group of adventurers, and the [Councillor]-[Merchant] now on a cart, as they reached the south-western gate of Wayfarrow and made their, slightly slower, rush to the south: the last place anyone knew the Spellswords and Evermore's had been.

  —

  Sirrochon cursed the [Bandits]. He cursed his lack of exercise. He cursed his lack of major [Endurance] Skills. He cursed the lack of healing potions. He cursed the council's stinginess. He cursed the fact that they didn't have a minute to stand and catch breath and plan a rotation of Skills and spells to put up an efficient fighting retreat. There were only instinctual responses to whatever the [Bandits] did next.

  Which was what led to Dap, Quartz, Chuffa and Brunalda collapsing within seconds of each other as they tried to crest a hill that was the only clear path forwards.

  Is this it then? Our last stand?

  Chuffa's horse had gone down half a mile before, collapsing under the weight of an unconscious or dead Rina, and Quartz, who'd been clinging to it for dear life. The poor beast had been struck by an arrow before Fodrin could pick off the archer that had appeared behind them.

  Better it than one of us.

  Brunhalda had scooped them up under one arm and kept lumbering forwards, throwing a spell behind that caused shards of razor-sharp rock to sprout from the ground.

  They had maybe a minute at best before the [Bandits] caught up.

  Or less, Sirrochon realised, as a whistle and cries of eagerness came out of the darkness.

  It's not how I thought it would end.

  At least the last few minutes had brought time for a couple more of his Skills to recharge. It had for all of them.

  At best, he estimated they'd put down a score of the '[Bandits]' over the past… however long they'd been fighting now…and maybe half of those - the ones that hadn't yet reached Silver-rank at least - wouldn't be getting back up again.

  He turned as he reached the top of the hill, and suppressed any urge to keep running. He wouldn’t get far enough anyway.

  Come on then you bastards; we’ll take a few more of you with us before we go.

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