Tur frowned down at the cellar entrance.

The trapdoor hung to hinges covered with rust, one of them having been dislodged from its support. The mouldy wood showed marks left by large teeth, the same left over the ragged remains of the latch. Beyond it, an earthen stair disappeared in the gloom.

“So, that’s the place?” Tur asked.

The farmer girl, a twig of a thing with dirty cheeks and deer-like eyes, nodded nervously, looking unsure if throwing her wary glances to the trasmuted Gremlin or the shadows of the cellar. She kept fiddling with the thick braid her wispy hair were braided into.

Tur nodded, more to himself than her, and stepped toward the entrance. With attention, he inspected the damaged trapdoor. He nodded again. The signs were unmistakeable. Rodents, of the big size. He remembered to have seen something similar many times during his previous life.

Leaning beyond the threshold, he strained to listen. He heard soft rustling, and, after a moment, a low squeak. Like the Master had instructed, he was careful not to be noticed as he took in the scent. Fur, moldy grain and droppings.

“Welp, it‘s official.” He concluded, drawing back. “You have an infestation of Dire Rats.” He turned to the girl. “It’s gonna be two coppers for the job.”

The girl blinked, scraped fingers stalling for a moment as she elaborated the incredibly low price. When she did, her nod was so quick that the braid almost slipped from her grasp.

Tur caressed the handle of his scimitar, deep satisfaction thrumming inside of him. The foe was subpar, but he relished the chance for fighting nonetheless. He loved to swing the weapon that the Master had entrusted him with.

“Alright, boys and girls, you heard the customer!” He declared cheerfully. “Let’s get to work!”

The four soldiers, two women and two men that he had the pride and fortune to lead, picked his enthusiasm with their own cheers.

“Please, there is no need for that.”

The cheers died down as quick as they had started. Everybody’s attention turned to the slender figure of Dara.

The priest advanced toward the trapdoor, the Gremlin turned humans edging away to let her pass.

Tur could understand them. Since Dara had started with all that “priest” business, she gave the shivers to anybody with a pinch of salt in their heads. Still, he didn’t like them to show it so openly. They had an image to maintan after all. He made sure to make them know his thoughts with some hard stares, but said nothing otherwise.

“Really, Dara? Again?” He asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

Differently from his soldiers, he and Dara went way back, and so the change didn’t affect him as much. Or maybe he wasn’t willing to show it as much, he wasn’t sure.

The priest stopped before him, folding her hands before her lap in a gesture that radiated calm and peace.

“As we strive to meet our appointed times, so we must strive to preserve the sands yet to drain.” She said gently.

Tur rolled his eyes. Ah, yes, the quoting of stuff that he was pretty sure nobody had ever taught her. Wasn’t he becoming increasingly grateful for those.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of using his authority to force her to back down. After all, he was the commander there. Also, with its new strangeness, Dara got what the Gremlins had decided to call “one foot in the wrong place”. The priestess’ fealty wasn’t entirely toward the Master, even if Tur was sure that it still was unassailable, and that wasn’t something the other Gremlins looked with fondness at. The others were sure to appreciate it, if he rebuffed her this once. The Masted had given him the authority to do so.

Still, the Master had also said stuff about “respect” and “finesse” and “delicacy”.

He sighed, letting his hand fall from the scimitar’s handle. “Go ahead.”

Dara’s gentle features lit up, and she nodded with joy.

The farmer girl jumped away with a squeaking sound as the priestess made her way past her. Tur watched her as she, looking almost if she was floating, disappeared into the darkness of the cellar.

He made a point of ignoring his soldiers exchanging anxious glances while he waited.

Rustling drifted from the gloom, followed by soft squeakings. There was some scrabbling, then the padding of many feet, followed by more shrill squeaks.

Tur was just starting to become concerned, when all sounds stopped at once. A cold breeze drifted out of the cellar, making him shiver. He fancied that there were words in the wind, whispers. The way his soldiers paced, at unease, and how the farmer girl cringed told him that he wasn’t the only one.

He shook his head, putting the eerie impression out of his head.

Dara’s slender figure re-emerged from the cellar, as unruffled and peaceful-looking as she was when she had entered. After her came a small, disciplinated line of four, cat-sized rats.

As she stopped before him, the creatures huddled against her ankles.

Tur threw them a quick glance, then frowned to Dara. The hint of satisfaction in the priestess’ peaceful smile didn’t escape his notice.

“I hope you aren’t going to keep those.” He grumbled, unwilling to concede her victory.

“Life finds a way.” She replied with philosophy.

Tur rolled his eyes. He was going to let the Master decide how to handle that.

“Real quick.” He said, turning to the wide-eyed farmer girl. “This ain’t magic, got it? She’s a priestess of the Faceless.”

The girl blinked, looked like she was trying to remember her name, then bobbed her head quickly. She wasn’t going to complain, not of a long shot.

After having received the payment, the group made their way out of the farm.

“Welp, that was easy! What’s gonna be next?” Asked Fret, a bubbly young woman with her blonde hair tied into a tight ponytail. She held her fingers leisurely crossed behind her head while she walked. A short bow jutted from behind her left shoulder.

“I only hope it’s not gonna be rats again.” Grumbled Huk. He was the tallest of the group, and would be the most robust if not for Tur. The sword at his hip, the shield on his back and the fearsome two-handed axe he carried over his shoulder made him look like a small walking armoury.

“Are you kidding? If all works were like that, i would be the happiest dude alive!” Replied Tad. Shorter and way less stocky than Huk, he made up for it with greater agility and with an amount of aggression one wouldn’t guess from the easy smile he wore in that moment. Apart from a shield and a sword, he carried a bow slung over one shoulder, with a full quiver at his hip.

“What do you think, Sela?” He asked. “Wouldn’t be great to have only rats to fight all the time?”

The last member of the group didn’t turn as she answered.

“We will fight what the Master will.” Sela replied laconically. Tall and broad-shouldered, her raven hair cropped short, she carried two hatchets at her hips, as well as a shield over her back. If Tad was aggressive, Sela was a true fury when push came to shove.

Tad cringed at her tone. “Ouch, she’s pissed.” He said. “She was expecting dragons and she got rats instead. Hey, Fret, help me to cheer her up or we’re gonna remain awake to the sound of her grumbling tonight.”

“Tad’s right!” The girl chimed in. “You should cheer up! Think how he would have pissed his pants if those rats would have swarmed us!”

“Argh, betrayal! How dare you?”

“Yeah.” Huk smirked. “Tad was more likely to run away screaming rather than risk a bite from those things.”

“Huk, you too!” Tad put a melodramatic hand over his chest. “You try to defend the general quiet, and this is how they treat you. Alas, what a terrible company i am forced to keep!”

They laughed, the banter managing to snatch a small smile even from Sela.

“Alright alright, settle down now.” Tur commanded. Despite the seriousness of his tone, there was a smile tugging at his mouth. “Next work is not gonna be such a breeze, so keep your wits to yourselves, got it?”

The four soldiers nodded as one, eyes serious despite the smiles. When it came to work, and to further the Master’s goals, they became as faithful and as determinated as fanatics.

“What’s gonna be, chief?” Sela asked.

“A grandma asked us to retrieve some stuff of hers from a farm.” Tur replied. “The place has gone down a couple years ago. An infestation of goblins. The gal is old, and she hasn’t anybody to fetch it for her.” He explained.

“Aw, that’s so sad!” Exclaimed Fret, the girl seriously bummed out.

“Welp, call me sold then. Getting paid and making a granny happy. Are we not the best?” Tad joked.

“Yeah, right. I bet that the pay is gonna be nothing like always.” Huk complained. “Sometimes i wonder if it wasn’t better to end up with the construction guys.”

“You kidding?” Tad shot back, looking aghast. “Passing time repairing doors and carrying stuff for people?” He waved a hand before his face. “No, thanks! Here at least, we get to have fun.”

“And stab things!” Fret chimed in brightly.

“Heck yeah, sister. Put it here!”

The two high-fived, Fret laughing. Huk just made a face.

Tur exchanged an amused glance with Sela, and the girl rolled her eyes. Despite Huk’s words, they both knew that everyone there preferred fight and danger rather than the more pacific work of the other guys that worked for the Guild. They were warriors all. That was why the Master had picked them up for the job.

“And when we stab, we mean it!” Tur exclaimed. He raised a fist. “Do we not? Aren’t we the best minions of the Master? Let me hear it now! Hip hip…!”

“Warriors!” The group shouted in unison, pumping their fists in the air. Fret and Tad broke out into laughter. Huk and Sela didn’t, but their eyes shimmered with pride.

“Hip hip…!”

“Warriors!”

“Hip hip…”

“Warriors!”

Dara nursed a dire rat in her arms as the groups’ voices raised in the clear sky. Scratching the purring creature’s head, she chuckled, her features lit with a soft fondness.

The travel to the farm was a short one. Soon, the well-organized countryside began to show signs of neglect. By the time they arrived at the dirt path that reached their destination, the fields had disappeared under a tangle of vegetation.

The stony form of the abandoned farm emerged from it like a stooped old man about to drown.

“Nice place.” Huk grumbled, frowning at the windows that stared out like hollowed eyes.

Tur thumped him over the back, making him wince.

“The statement of the century, Huk!” He laughed. “But don’t worry. We go in, grab and we’re out. Heads up, everybody. We don’t know if there is some unwanted guest still.”

The group took out their weapons and took formation. The banter and easy air was smoothly replaced by attention.

The path, a dirt road straight to the entrance of the farm, passed under an arch which painting had been eroded by time. Fragments of an inscription were still visible, but whatever message they relaxed had been lost.

“Hey, think we’re gonna find some goblins?” Tad wondered while the group made their way through with caution. “I really hope not.”

Fret grimaced. “Me neither!” She chirped. “Those things are stupid and ugly!”

They all knew that the real reason was that the little greenskins would only remind them of the stupid lives the Master had saved them from. Still, nobody was willing to aknowledge it out loud and so nobody pointed it out.

“Quiet, you two.” Sela hissed. “Chief, you think there’s gonna be danger?”

“So close to the town? I don’t believe so.” Despite those words, Tur kept his attention trained on the windows. “Still, the place looks good for nesting, and it’s isolated enough to attract some nasties. Be careful.”

They nodded, and kept going.

They reached the porch without incident. The place was invaded with vines, and many plants had pushed their fronds under the column that sustained the hanging roof. Still, the door, a large specimen that looked to be barely hanging at the hinges, was still easy to access.

Tur and Sela took position at both sides of the door, then nodded to Huk.

The large man probed the door with a shoulder, and finding it barely hanging, drew back and kicked it. The blow sent it slamming open with a crash of hinges and rotten wood slamming against stone.

The warriors raised their weapons, but, apart from from a nasty stench, nothing came out of the door.

“Aw, really?” Fret said, lowering her bow with delusion.

“I am not complaining.” Huk replied. After checking that there was nothing awaiting for him, he stepped inside. The group quickly scurried after him.

They found themselves into an ample antechamber. Whatever paint or paper that covered the walls was long gone, leaving only a surface stained and discolored, plaster broken or chipped in multiple places. The floor still had some color, maybe of an ancient mosaic or painting, but whatever image it showed had turned into an undecipherable smudge. A stately-looking staircase rose at the center of the room, leading to the second floor. Three doors led into other chambers.

“Welp, this doesn’t look like a farm to me.” Tad noted, looking around. “Look too… rich?”

“Yeah, maybe…” Tur glanced about with a suspicious frown. He turned at Dara, and the priestess just shook her head. “Come on, the granny said the stuff was at the second floor.”

With caution, eyes and ears open, the group made their way on the stair. The ramp was solid marble, untouched by the decades, but the carpet once adorning it had decayed into a smouldering wreck. Each step had insects swarm around their feet, eliciting whispered curses and quick shaking.

As they reached the second floor, the stink, that until then had been only a nuisance, turned into a full aggression against their noses.

“God, this stinks so much!” Fret exclaimed, covering her mouth with a hand. “What is it?!”

“Oh, shut up you.” Tad whispered with a smirk. “You probably put your nose in worse things as a goblin.”

Fret turned at him with a mix of disgust and outrage. “Really? Come on, now i feel even worse!”

“Silence.” Tur said. The command had been given calmly, but the two clamped their mouth shut nonetheless. The commander turned to the two taking point. “Huk?”

The big man inspired loudly and deeply, then let it out with a slow breath from his nose.

“Dunno, chief.” He admitted. “I feel the rot, but over everything there’s a smell i don’t recognize. Feels grimy, sticky.”

Tur nodded slowly. “Alright.” He turned to everyone else. “Remain sharp.”

The group nodded, and they proceded.

The second floor revealed itself to be a long corridor with a series of doors on both walls. The warriors began to methodically scour the place, opening door after door in search of their prize.

As they moved, Tur and Huk took the front, shields and weapon at the ready. After them, Tad and Fret held their bows with arrows already nocked. Dara followed, her pets crowding against her feet as the priestess advanced with a calmly focused expression. Sela held the rearguard, eyes darting the way they had come.

The first three rooms proved themselves to be failures, the object they were looking for nowhere to be seen between forniture almost buried under sheets of dust.

The forth turned out to be a large bedroom, or at least the ruin of one. The canopy of the bed had collapsed in a tangled heap of rotten wood. Heaps of tattered cloths were all that remained of plush cushions. A ponderous wardrobe covered almost an entire wall, still in one piece, even if the original color couldn’t be seen under the pall. Furniture, their shapes almost undistinguishable under the sheet of dust stood there and then like mounds of snow. Thick spider webs weighted by decades of dust hung from the walls like festoons. The air was stale in there, the stink strong enough to make the eyes water.

The warriors spread themselves around the room, opening drawers and rummaging around.

“Remember: it’s a medallion we’re looking for.” Tur said, forcing open a closet that had been jammed by rust. “Smaller than your fist. Search everywhere.”

As Fret opened it, a cloud of dust erupted out of the bedside table, followed by a rush of insects.

“Oh god, the smell!” She wheezed, covering her hand with a hand and trying to wave away the dust with the other. “I am going to puke!”

“Come, now.” Tad said. The soldier hung at leisure by the door, having promptly taken the role of sentinel. “A bit of dust can’t be enough to send the Master’s best soldiers reeling, can it now?” He asked with a lazy smile.

Coughing, Fret gave him the middle finger.

“Don’t argue, you two.” Huk lamented half-heartedly, while rummaging inside a drawer.

“Chief, i think i have something.” Sela said. The girl bowed before the wardrobe.

Tur sneezed. Waving a hand before his face, he made to her. “What is it?”

The woman pushed a hand beneath the wardrobe. When she drew it back, she was holding a small box.

“Someone must have shoved it down there in a hurry.” She explained.

“Good job.” Tur took the box from her hands.

It was locked shut, and they had to break the lock before being able to open it. The content turned out to be quite disappointing: a bunch of papers of some kind, their writing unreadable, pressed into a tight pile. Frowning, Tur took them out, and his expression lit up.

“A-ah!” He exclaimed, raising triumphantly a round medallion.

Medium-sized, the object was carved with a life-like image of a flowery valley. It stood in an incredibly good condition, maybe owing it to the papers covering it.

“Is that it?”

Tur nodded with a satisfied smile at Huk’s question, prompting a small jump from Fret.

“Horray! Then now we can…!” She didn’t get to finish the phrase. In her enthusiasm, the tip of her bow got hooked in the handle of a drawer and, as she turned away from it, the drawer was pulled out from its stand. It impacted the floor with a noisy clatter that echoed loudly.

Everybody’s eyes immediately turned to the already cringing girl.

“Ehm, sorry?” She squeaked, and cringed again as Sela glared daggers at her.

Tur pocketed the medallion, shaking his head with a smile. He was about to give the order to move out, when a strange sound made him stop.

Frowning, he perked up his ears. As he did, the others noticed as well. They abandoned the budding arguing to try to hear as well.

The moment he realized what it was, Tur’s eyes snapped wide open.

It was the sound of skittering.

“Get the door!” He shouted, shattering the silence.

Taken by surprise, the group was slow to react. Then, a long-limbed figure appeared at the door. Tad cried out in surprise when a body jumped on him.

He blindly stomped into the room, swatting at the thing that had attached itself to his back. It was a spider, as big as a cat. Its mandible glistened as it clicked it, but before it could bring them down on Tad, Tur was already swinging at it. The scimitar sheared through its head and body like it was paper, painting a spray of ichor on the wall. The spider plopped down in two neat parts.

“The door!” Tur shouted again, and this time his soldiers were quick to act. “Shields!”

Other spiders were emerging into the room just as Tur, Sela and Huk took position, forming a barrier with their shields. The first arachnids to arrive at reach were cleaved in two or stabbed, then thrown back as they shrieked and leaked their lifeblood.

More came after them, a mass of snapping mandibles and skittering legs. From behind their fellows, Fret and Tad loosed their arrows straight into it. Two more spiders fell twitching, their bodies pierced.

Tur kicked a spider that tried to grab his shield and clove another in two. His fellows did the same, stabbing and hacking with determination.

Suddenly, a sound attracted his attention into the room for a split second. His eyes widened as the heap of wood over the bed gave way, three other spiders clambering over it.

“Careful! There must be another entrance!” He shouted.

Fret and Tad were just about to take aim to the new assailants, that four furry forms darted through the air. The dire rats fell upon one of the spiders. The arachnid shrieked, trying to bring its mandibles to bear, but the rodents bore it down with their combined weights and tore it to pieces with teeth and claws.

The other two tried to help their fellow, but before they could a fistful of what looked to be sand hit their cluster eyes. They immediately started to shriek and flail wildly, hitting each other in their sudden frenzy. They tumbled down the bed, ichor trailing behind them, fell into a tangled heap and didn‘t move anymore.

Tur threw a shocked glance toward Dara. The priestess was just taking another fistful of dust from her bag, and nodded resolutely to him, a hint of amusement twinkling in her eyes.

“Or that works too.” Tur murmured. “Block that entrance!”

The hidden entrance turned out to be a hole in the wall hidden by the bed. Tad and Fret drove the largest piece of wood still in one piece they could find into it, blocking it effectively.

The spiders kept coming from the front, but the determinated defence of the soldiers turned out to be too much for them. The survivors turned and ran, leaving at least a dozen of fallen behind.

Fret whooped, throwing another arrow to the retreating enemies.

“Let’s go, now!” Tur ordered cutting the cheers short. “Now that they are gone. Let’s get out of here!”

He feared another assault, maybe from more spiders from other parts of the house, but his fears didn’t materialize. The group quickly retraced the path they had taken and soon they were out in the open. Still, they stopped running only once the house was at a good distance behind them.

“Shit, that was nasty!” Tad panted, bent over his knees. “Remember me to never enter in another suspicious farm again.”

“Oh, shut up, you whiner.” Sela wheezed. The girl was smeared with spider ichor, but if it bothered her, she didn’t show it.

“I am with Tad here.” Fret concurred, sprawling in the dirt. She laughed. “Also, nobody ever make Dara angry! Did you see that trick? That was insane!”

“Bad magic.” Hug grumbled. Of all of them, he was the least winded.

Dara was busy nursing an injured rat, and said nothing, even if there was a smile on her face.

“Alright alright, settle down now.” Tur spat. He turned to address the whole group. “We get into a small scuffle and you’re already this out of breath? Bunch of pansies.”

Despite the insult being only half-serious, Sela still jolted like she had been struck, jumping to her feet like a scared rabbit.

“Don’t try so hard, sweety. You’re gonna pull something.” Tad mocked her, making Fret explode in laughter.

Sela threw him a hard look. “Dara is not the only one who can make you disappear, moron.”

Huk just sighed, and got up.

“Are you deaf? I said settle down!” This time the order brought silence, apart from some lingering guffaws. “We have what we came for.” Tur said with a grin. “Good job everybody. Next stop is the town for payment and then we’re off for the next work.”

“Eeeeh? Not even a moment to rest?” Whined Fret.

“You can rest when you’re dead! Now move!”

There still was some grumbling, but the group got going all the same.

As they walked down the path toward the city, Tur wondered at how lucky he was. He got to have a nice sword and swing it around as much as he pleased, and got to do it with trusted companions at his side. Really, who could ask for more?

“Hip hip…!”

“Warriors!”