The white rockface of Sheercliff towered over the city; a long, tired line of refugees waited to get inside. The reports had been right. Monster presence in the region was rising, and now they saw the reality of what that meant.

Hump sighed. “I don’t fancy waiting in that line.”

He was seated on Prancer, the usually docile stallion digging at the ground with one foot, excited at the sight of so many people. Where there were people, there was usually food. Though Hump couldn’t help but think the city might be running short.

Bud pulled up beside him looking more like a rusty bandit than ever. His chestplate had been destroyed in the fight against the gorger and the dented remains were now strapped to Asoltef’s saddlebags. In its place, the knight still had the chainmail layer that went beneath, but it was old and worn, with a jagged tear through the middle—ill-suited for a noble.

“How can there be so many?” Bud asked, disbelief in his voice.

“We were told it was bad,” Hump said.

“Yeah, but not this bad,” Bud said. “It’s only been three months.”

“I suspect the rumours of dungeons in the region are more truth than fiction” Vivienne said. “This is where the people come when their homes are no longer safe. It will only get worse.”

Bud grimaced, eyes roaming the long line of refugees. “Gods help us,”

“They already have,” Hump said grimly. “This is bad for them, but good for us.” The knight frowned at him, and Hump added with a shrug, “More monsters means more work.”

Bud snorted, shaking his head. Part amused, part horrified he’d even said it. “You’re terrible.”

“What I am is hungry,” Hump said. “And right now there’s a thousand people between us and the inn. Tell me you have some good news for us, Celaine.”

She was a little way ahead of them, eyes faintly shining with the power of her dragon’s blood as she studied the city. She pointed. “I think they’re letting adventurers pass through the gates.”

Hump squinted, barely able to make out the giant head of Osidium upon the white cliff, let alone find the city gate amongst the jumbled mess of shops and houses that was the city outskirts. They were in there somewhere, leading into the Lower City.

“Are you pointing because you think we’ll be able to see that too?” Hump asked.

Celaine glanced back at him and glared. “Aren’t you just a barrel of laughs today.”

Hump was about to retort, when Vivienne kicked her own horse into motion. “Come on. They’ll shut the gates come nightfall and we still have a ways to go.”

She was right. It was getting on for evening now and judging from the crowd Hump guessed it would be a good while longer before they were inside. They’d still have to find an inn that could take them after that, and he expected it to be busy. They’d passed a number of adventurers on the road already. The call was out, adventurers were needed in Sheercliff, and they came in droves from all across Alveron.

“Hey, Bud,” Hump whispered as they rode. “Say a quick prayer and help us find an inn, would you?”

Bud sighed. “Sometimes I think you want the gods to curse you.”

Hump grinned, but it didn’t last long. From a distance he could dissociate from the refugees. As they neared them, his eyes fell on their dirtied faces, filled with hunger and desperation. It was always the poor that paid the price first. Bud’s eyes were torn in a hundred directions at once, his face turned pale as a ghost. They hadn’t even reached the encampment outside the city yet.

A group of children sat by the road went to their knees as they approached, hands outstretched. Hump saw himself in them. Hungry, homeless, desperate. It was only on the whim of his master that his fate had changed.

“Let’s give them our food,” Dylan said, dismounting. He took what remained of a sack of oats from his saddlebags along with some other bits and pieces, then move between the rest of them.

Hump handed over the few bits and pieces he had left, but it wasn’t much. A few pieces of fruit and some jerky to snack on. It was like war had come to Sheercliff, and not some petty squabble between lords. This was an invasion. There had to be thousands of people camped out around the city, and hundreds still trying to get inside.

We should have brought more, Hump thought, as Dylan handed over the few bits that had left. All they’d been able to give was a meal or two for each of them, but chances were slim tjese kids would get to keep it all for themselves. If they didn’t have families, they’d have bigger, older kids to contend with.

They’d only left Fishers Lake three days ago, a letter from Randall of all things being the reason. Lady Helen Astida had submitted her report to the guild, and an investigation into Vivienne’s actions during the shade attacks was now just a matter of time. She’d decided she would rather take the initiative rather than let them come for her, and the rest of them had gone with her. At least for a while, Hump expected Sheercliff to be the main hub for adventurers still in Alveron. For bronze and iron rankers, there were few better places.

It had been a long couple of weeks. He was thankful that Lucile hadn’t visited him again, and chalked it up to be a bad dream. At least, that’s what he told himself. Hump’s hands still hadn’t quite healed from where he’d grabbed Hestia’s Star within the gorger’s spiritual form, and even with Vivienne’s medicine he’d have permanent scarring. They marked the back of his hand and wrists like wisps of flame.

There hadn’t been much time to mope about and recover. Vivienne wanted to explore every inch of the ruined temple before leaving it to be discovered by the rest of the Wizard’s Society or erased by the Pantheon. After seeing that Hump could record the spell formation on the doors, she’d taken him with her, having him test everything that could remotely resemble an artefact. They’d found a few minor formations, but nothing as exciting as the Three-Eyed Seal that had been upon the temple doors. It hadn’t been a total loss for Hump either, he’d managed to recover the gorger’s original heartstone, though the artefact it had used to control the gateway was as good as gone.

And Vivienne had stuck to her promise, training him on spells and fundamentals he was missing. Mostly cantrips, but they were working together to create a version of her Water Missiles that used earth instead. It was a good way for him to practice precision and control rather than continuing to rely on power.

The crowd broke apart for their horses, letting them through. He and the others wore their adventurers medallions over their clothes, and nobody challenged them along the way. It wasn’t long before they passed the ever growing encampment around the city. What had once been grassland was now trodden to mud. Tents and wagons made up for most of the accommodation, but some didn’t even have that. They formed shelters out of dissembled parts where they could, for there were no trees anywhere nearby.

Things didn’t get better inside the city either. The alleyways were stuffed full of people, crouched on the wet and filthy dirt paths, clutching worn clothing to their bodies for some semblance of warmth.

“How can Countess Daston leave these people out here like this?” Bud asked quietly.

“People like this don’t have tents,” Hump said. “Someone must have provided the ones they do have. There must be at least some food and water being handed out if people are choosing to stay. If she’s like you said, I expect she’s doing something.”

“It won’t last for long,” Vivienne said. “Without farmers working the fields, they’re going to have to figure out a different solution. A city like Sheercliff can’t survive without a supply line.”

It was slow progress along the main road, and as they neared the front, they started to attract more angry looks. It was mostly tradesmen and merchants this far up. Those with enough money to think themselves at least a little above the masses. Their eyes quickly turned downcast when they noticed Vivienne’s bronze rank medallion.

Nearing the gates, they were ushered to the right side where adventurers were being allowed through, and told to dismount. There was only one party ahead of them, the guards conducting a thorough search of their wagon before waving them on by. They were gestured forward, and Vivienne took the lead.

“Name and business,” the guard said mechanically.

“I am Wizard Vivienne, and these are my companions. Lord Robert Blackthorne, Chosen of Kelisia,” she gestured to Bud. “Dylan, Chosen of Krioc, and Celaine Chosen of Owalyn, as well as Wizard Humphrey. We’re here to help the city.”

The guard didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that Celaine was not a Chosen of the Pantheon, which didn’t surprise Hump. Beneath the Twelve were many minor gods like Krioc and Hestia.

The guard glanced at Vivienne’s medallion, no doubt noticing that she was Bronze 4, only one step away from silver. “New rules, my lady. We need to search your things before we can let you past.”

“Why the strictness?” Bud asked.

The guard glanced around to see if anyone was in earshot. He stepped closely, and quietly said, “Soul eaters walk the streets, lord. Many have been killed already.”

“Gods help us,” Bud muttered. “As if things weren’t bad enough already.”

“What makes you think they’re soul eaters?” Hump asked. “People are starving. I’m sure many would kill for a meal.”

The guard shook his head assuredly. “Not these ones. No. Their eyes are burnt out, their insides black as soot. I’ve seen it myself. Orders are to keep it quiet.”

“We won’t speak a word of it,” Vivienne said. “And we’ve got nothing to hide. Go ahead with your search.”

The search didn’t take long, and only once they were through did Hump ask Vivienne, “What did you make of that?”

“I’m not sure,” Vivienne said. “If they feared monsters, I don’t know why they would take so much time searching us.”

“You think people are behind the killings?” Celaine said.

“I hope so,” Vivienne said. “Because if there’s monsters powerful enough to walk amongst us, nobody is safe.”

She stopped herself from continuing. Even here, people were watching them. Adventurers from the look of their equipment, likely eyeing the competition. Then Hump noticed a few too well dressed to be simple adventurers. Their armour bore the sigil of Lady Light, and Hump’s heart started to race. The Pantheon were keeping watch over those that entered the city. That was bad news for an accidental warlock.

“Come on,” Vivienne said. “Let’s find ourselves an inn and some food. We’ll wait until tomorrow to visit the guild.”

The guilds were all centred around the area beneath the carriageway that connected the Upper and Lower City, ensuring nobles didn’t need to travel too far to reach it, and that their plateau above never became too crowded by commoners. Hump had hoped that the inn they’d stayed at before was far enough outside the price range of most that they’d have rooms to spare. He was wrong. There wasn’t an inn anywhere within the guild sector with space. In the end, they found a quiet inn off the beaten path, charging thrice the fair of an inn twice as nice. Still, it had stables, beds, hot food, and baths. They were better off than most.

They arrived at the gated complex of the adventurers guild the following morning, attempting to avoid most of the traffic. Its grounds were housed within walls of white stone, the single entrance manned by a team of gate guards. They showed their medallions and were waved through, then followed a wide stone path that led to the courtyard. It was almost as large as the entire town square back in Fishers Lake, surrounded by every facility an adventurer might need. An entire independent society housed within a city.

It had been fairly busy when they’d last been there, and now even more so. The last dregs of the night still lingered in the tavern, but most had congregated over toward the training grounds or shops. People bartered exploits from their time out in the field, trading for equipment and points and anything else they’d need. Hump kept an eye out for any good prices but nothing caught his eye. His boots and wizard robes had been turned to scraps in the gorger’s armoury, and he’d resorted to his spare clothes for travel. It was far from suitable for adventuring though.

Hump sighed.

“What is it?” Celaine asked.

“With so many adventurers in the city, prices will be up, and our heartstones won’t sell for two thirds of what they might have. We’ll be able to get Bud some new armour though.” He nodded to the armourer—an entire shop by itself, a dozen smiths inside working the anvils. “And I need some new kit too.”

“We best cross our fingers that the quest pays well then,” Bud said.

The guildhall was on the far side of the courtyard, standing out as the most grand of any building in the grounds, or this sector of the city for that matter. It was made of the white stone of Sheercliff, said to be formed by Osidium himself. A clock hung over the entryway, the time nearing eight o’clock.

Hump led the way inside to find a crowded lobby, people scrutinising the request boards for their next quest. They’d needed to put some extra boards up to compensate for the additional work coming in, and from the looks of it, the backlog was only getting larger.

The five of them headed over to the long counter set against the back wall, twenty-odd workers manning the station.

“Go on without me,” Vivienne said. “I’m going to collect my mail.”

She headed to the far side of the desk for assistance, while Hump spotted the same man he’d spoken to before. He approached the desk, catching his eye. “Timond, wasn’t it?”

The man’s eyes perked up. “That’s right! How may I help you?”

“We’ve returned from Fishers Lake,” Hump said, pulling out the quest token that Mayor Arnold had given them. It was a large brass coin with a reddish tint, imprinted with the guild logo, an area number that connected it to Sheercliff, and a quest reference number.

Timond swiped it up off the desk, glancing at it briefly, then searched for it in his ledger. “Ah, Fishers Lake, now I remember.” He glanced over to the right where Vivienne was. “It seems you found your wizard friend after all.”

“We did,” Hump said.

“Very good. Well, just give me a moment.” He read through the listing. “You’ll be pleased to know the quest rating was increased to bronze rank by Lady Astida. Do you require split rewards?”

“We can divide them up ourselves,” Hump said.

He nodded, taking out a small paper notebook and wrote down the details. “Here’s a receipt for your reward. To redeem it, head outside and two doors down. You won’t miss it. I’ll need to see each of your adventurers medallions too. I expect you’re due a promotion.”

The three of them handed their medallions over, and he entered them into a mirror reader one by one. Each time confirming that they’d jumped a division, meaning they were now Iron 3.

Unfortunately, as Dylan was not yet registered with the guild he’d been unable to accept any benefits for participating in the quest, however they signed him up and had him register as their fourth party member. They’d offered him the position on the day they’d left, and he hadn’t hesitated in agreeing. Whcih now made four of them.

They joined Vivienne at the mail office and Bud requested the guild’s services to send a runner to Countess Daston, informing her of his return and requesting an audience. Vivienne, however, didn’t look up. She was frowning down at a letter.

“What is it?” Hump asked.

Vivienne,

Forgive my brevity. News has reached the Council that Seth is dead, killed by his apprentice. I know you were close. A bounty is out, but we have no record of his name. Send word if you can.

~E

“Who’s E?” Hump asked.

“A wizard Seth and I studied with,” Vivienne said. “He’s a close friend of mine from the academy, and he’s on his way here. This letter was dated two months ago.”

“Well that’s fine,” Bud said. “Hump didn’t do anything. We all know that, so you can clear his name right? I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Vivienne’s frown deepened. “A wizard called Abraxis has been assigned the job. We… didn’t get along. They’ll be arriving with the other wizards coming to reinforce Sheercliff. Many of which I’m sure will preside over my trial.”

Something didn’t add up. The only people that knew about his master’s death were the receptionist in the Bledsbury adventurers guild branch and Overseer Oswald, the former lacking the reason to contact the Society, and the latter he trusted. “How do they know he’s dead?”

Vivienne shrugged. “It doesn’t say.”

“What is it?” Celaine asked, staring at him.

“I don’t understand how they know he’s dead,” Hump said. “I didn’t report it. Unless it really wasn’t just goblins that killed him.”