Launcelot creeped up to the door, his posture slightly crouched and his shield raised up to chest-level so he could, at a moment's notice, put his shield up to cover his face or retreat to defend Li. His movements, despite the heavy full-plate he wore, were surprisingly silent.

He could move in a way that minimized any ambient noise, and it was not like he was slowly inching forwards like a slug. His movements were relatively fast, as fast as could be to sneak around wearing armor like that, and he reached the door within a few seconds.

It was obvious the shielder had trained to move silently, though why an upfront tank would need such skills or where he would have learned that was a mystery.

The knocking continued. Then a pause. Then a few much stronger knocks – strong enough to rattle the door nearly off its hinges – pounded on the wood.

Launcelot grabbed the door handle and swung it open towards himself, shield raising with the motion. In the very next instant, when he saw who it was, he dropped the shield to his side and smiled almost in the same instant he raised it. Like this, he erased his tension and converted it into a relaxed ease with expert fluidity that made it seem as if he had always worn that casual smile.

"You three? What a pleasant surprise, though the hour is deathly late," said Launcelot as he opened the door wider, waving them in. "Come, a warm fire awaits within."

Jeanne stood in the doorframe, her hand raised where she had been knocking with her superhuman strength. Her eyes were wide and her brwos furrowed, and the same worried expression found itself on Sylvie's face as well.

"Launcelot." Jeanne spared the time to give the shielder a recognizing nod before she stepped into cottage, her mud-caked greaves tracking dirt on the wooden floor.

Li had half a mind to complain about that, but he knew there were far more pressing issues at hand. They had come back from their hunt for ingredients far too early, not to mention their concerned expressions and the fact that Jeanne, as considerate as she was, would never dirty the cottage under normal circumstances.

"We need your help, Li."

Li stood up. "Seems like it." He scanned the doorframe again, looking behind Sylvie to see Azhar was missing. When Li's gaze passed over Sylvie, she looked down and away, trying to hide her face. "Where is he?"

"That's where we need help, I'm afraid," said Jeanne. "A darkbeast got to him, and its venom has laid him low. Do you have an elixir that can help him? We will pay any price for it."

"A darkbeast?" Launcelot perked his head up, his eyes narrowing. "A terrible and rare plight, indeed. Good sir, I will also be willing to pay any amount of coin to see a fellow adventurer in arms healed."

Did they think Li was some kind of heartless money-pincher? Well, maybe he did give off some of those vibes considering how much he had bargained with them before about elixirs and coin and contracts and whatnot, but he did not mind that so much. What he had to do was focus on the treatment before him.

First off, he legitimately had little idea what a darkbeast was. There were no records about it in any of the texts he had read. He knew that Aine's library was not the be all end all for knowledge of this world, but it did have almost everything he wanted for. Historical texts, a compendium on plants and herbs, and a thorough bestiary.

"Coin isn't something you have to worry about," said Li. "What you should be worrying about is whether I even have a proper elixir to treat him. Get him here so I can check his condition."

_____________________

Azhar laid on a bed of skins and bundled up straw. He wanted to stay seated, but laid down at Jeanne's insistence. He actually did not look all that bad. Almost fine, to be honest.

"I'm not exactly a doctor," said Li as he circled around Azhar, his eyes scanning the man's potential injuries. "But he doesn't seem like he's going to die anytime soon. There's no visible wound, his skin's a healthy shade, his temperature's fine, he's not sweating, he walks a little wobbly but enough to get around, and his eyes are in focus."

"Hells, if only those were the issues I was facin' right now." Azhar used his left hand to grab his right arm and held it up. It was like he was handling a chunk of meat with the way it looked so heavy and unresponsive. He let go of his right arm, and it dropped flat to his side, hitting his side with slapping impact.

Li sat back down on his stool with a sigh. He reached into his pocket and took out an [Anti-Venom] and [Cleanse]. The bottles, one filled with blue liquid and the other red, had their thin necks nestled between Li's fingers as he handed them to Azhar.

"Drink both and tell me if they work. Meanwhile-" Li turned his attention to Sylvie and Jeanne. They sat side by side a little distance aways while Launcelot stood in the corner, paying attention to the situation but saying out of it. "Why don't you two tell me what happened?"

Sylvie bit her lip as she tried to speak, the words forming in her throat, but catching, unable to escape.

Jeanne spoke instead. "We made it to the Chattering Forests with nary an issue. Within, we were tracking mothmen when a darkbeast ambushed us. We had our usual formation – me standing as vanguard in the front with Az and Sylvie circling around me – and the beast struck out at Sylv, but thank the light that Az was there to protect her.

The two of them killed the monstrosity, but, as you can see, Az did not emerge unscathed."

Li looked back at Azhar's limp arm. The hinterlander had downed both elixirs, wiping his mouth with the back of his functional hand. His arm did not seem to be regaining function, and elixirs usually worked almost instantly. "It doesn't look like he has any physical wounds."

"I healed him," said Jeanne. "The bite itself was well within the bounds of my faith to remedy. But darkbeast venom? That, I cannot do anything about."

"Venom? Tell me about darkbeasts. I've never heard of them, and maybe I can find out a remedy with some more information."

Li expected Sylvie, with all her stored knowledge and pride of it, to start talking, but she remained silent, embroiled in guilt.

Jeanne continued. "It is understandable that you do not know. They are a recent phenomenon, after all, and even I do not know too much about them – nobody truly does – but among adventurers, it is simply a common sense to avoid them. They hold abilities that our training has not prepared us against."

"They are mutants." Launcelot spoke from his corner. He was staring straight ahead, recalling. "I've done my research on mutants and what makes a hero a hero, and I can tell you that these darkbeasts possess the same nature of powers as you heroes.

Though why they have only recently begun to manifest them, I do not know, though I theorize it is due to the lack of forest spirits breaking down the natural order in these forests, letting mutations go rampant and uncontrolled.

Regardless, if it is a darkbeast that has inflicted that paralysis upon his arm, then it is possible that no mere elixir nor magic can heal it."

"So what?" Azhar said. His voice was laden with brimming anger. "I'm stuck with a deadbeat arm for the rest of my life? That what it is, huh?"

"Darkbeast powers are diluted," said Launcelot. "I sincerely doubt the effect upon your arm is permanent. It may be that it fades today, perhaps the morrow, perhaps in a week. I cannot tell you properly. But what I can tell you is that this is not a permanent fate, so stand tall and proud, my fellow warrior."

"If only, if only I hadn't been so careless," said Sylvie as she balled her fists upon her knees, her arms quaking. "I planned everything ahead, set up contingencies in the case that we were swarmed, but that accursed darkbeast, that vile spider, if only that had not been there at that exact moment-"

"Quit the blamin', ya did fine," snapped Azhar. He stood up. "Now the hells are we waitin' for? Ain't the time to be doin' this pity party. You heard the fancy nobleman, ain't this scratch gonna' put me down for long, and we haven't gotten' our ingredients yet. Let's go back instead of wastin' time here."

"No." Jeanne's voice rung out an intensity uncharacteristic of her usual gentleness. "You have to rest until you regain use of your arm."

"Hells, when's that gonna' be, huh? Might even be a damn week later. We ain't got time for that. Our quest down in Duvin's comin' up soon."

"You must still rest. Your safety means so much to me, to Sylv."

"Don't be worryin' yourself bout' me. Besides, how am I gonna' keep you two safe out there if I ain't even there?"

A pained expression set upon Jeanne's face.

"Az, without an arm, you can't string a bow, and without that, you're…," She could not bring herself to continue.

Sylvie knew what Jeanne wanted to say, and she grimaced, unable to look properly at Azhar.

"What? What's up with you two?" Azhar's eyes shifted from Jeanne to Sylvie in rapid succession, and it was evident in the rising desperation in his voice that he knew what they were thinking.

"You're a liability," said Launcelot. He stepped towards Azhar, his characteristic smile wiped from his face and replaced with an almost stone-cold seriousness. His voice was, however, gentle. Firm, yes, but understanding. "If you truly wish to protect your party, then you should rest until you are capable of defending yourself. In the meanwhile-"

Launcelot bowed to Jeanne. "Will you not consider taking Bulwark with you? My party and I are quite suited to the Chattering Forests with our elemental powers, and we will ask nothing in return."

Jeanne blinked a few times as she considered the offer.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna' be?" Azhar came up close to Launcelot and shoved him backwards with his good arm. "You're gonna' protect em', huh?"

Launcelot put his hands up to show he meant no harm. "My fellow adventurer, I harbor no ill-intent with my words. I know you are a bowman of superb merit – I have seen your skill with my very own eyes. But you will endanger your party should you persist in this. You must rest and regain your splendid strength."

Azhar drew close to Launcelot, and the two were matched evenly in height, though Launcelot dwarfed him in width of frame, the difference only accentuated by his bulky armor. Azhar drove an accusing finger into Launcelot's breastplate.

"I know what you're after," said Azhar. "You and your party of girls, huh, mighty convenient ain't it, sir good looks? Think you're gonna' get your grubby hands on these two?"

Launcelot shook his head. "I simply wish to protect your friends as you do."

"Ya think I ain't capable? Think a busted arm's gonna' put me out the count?"

Li could tell with how explosively Azhar's anger mounted that this was not real rage. Of course, the hinterlander was always on the fiery side and always rough around the edges, but deep down, he knew that Launcelot was right. This was anger created from desperation, the type of anger that lashed out at anything, no matter how irrationally, because of a deep sense of powerlessness.

Li knew that feeling well. He had felt it once, too.

The wyrm who had slept through everything peacefully by the fireplace until now woke up, sensing the combative tension in the air. She glanced at Launcelot and Azhar, and sensing they were too many levels above her to challenge, scampered behind Li's seat, though her gleaming yellow eyes did peek out curiously to look at how this confrontation was going to go.

"Tell ya what," said Azhar as he stared down Launcelot. "Prove you're better than me, and I'll let you go. Beat me in a duel. Ain't no tricks, just our fists and the skills we've trained for. Or is all your talk about bein' a man empty?"

"Az, this is ridiculous," said Jeanne as she hurried to get in between them.

Launcelot raised his hand to stop her. "No, I will do it. I have my honor as a Lakely to uphold, and a Lakely does not back down from challenges."