*gasp* I'm going to die.

*gasp* I'm going to die.

+ 1 Dexterity

Go away. Go away.

"Skwarrrk!" cries death.

I hear it. It's chasing me. I'm running as fast as I can but I know it's not enough, it's getting closer.

"Whuuaaaaaa~!"

Every breathe I take feels like a knife slicing my throat. Every step is more painful than the last. It's torture, but I can't slow down. If I stop, I die. If I slow down, I die. All I can do is run. Run and run and never stop.

"Woooo~! Weeeeeeeeeeeeee~!"

The sadistic cries close in, the sheer enjoyment in the sound is terrifying. Each scream feels like an icy claw, reaching out and shredding my heart, tearing my soul. It's toying with me, I'm sure of it. This isn't a hunt, it's a game. The desperation is almost enough for me to draw my sword and face death with at least some honour, but I keep on running, I keep clinging to hope, however faint that hope may be.

Vesth.... I think that's his name.

"Sqwark! Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuu~!"

The old man running ahead of me has a permanent scowl on his face and a real 'old person' attitude, but... "It's safe with him", that's what the Guild lady told me, and I pray to Escal she's right because I've never felt more unsafe than right now. I'm pretty sure I can feel the flames brushing against my back. I'm minutes, no, probably seconds away from dying, and not a pleasant, glorious death either, it will probably be... really painful. All I can do is follow Vesth as he runs through the forest and pray he can produce miracles. It's that or die.

And I really don't want to die. Not while I'm just a nameless Stone.

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee-" *Donk*

What in Escal is a *Donk*?!

Without breaking his stride, Vesth twists his head over his shoulder and scans the forest behind us, something I dare not try myself in fear of slowing down or faltering. His eyes dart across the trees and canopies quickly as he looks for something while mine stay firmly focus on the ground at my feet. Small plants, bushes and fallen logs are numerous, as well as random foot-sized holed in the ground, it's taking every ounce of my concentration to avoid the things hidden in the forest debris. I couldn't look behind me even if I wanted to.

In a split second of sudden movement, the old, darkly-tanned man spins on his feet unexpectedly while at a full sprint and harshly skids backwards along the forest floor while facing me, as if sliding on very rough ice. My feet buckle and tremble as I try to suddenly stop also, but it's clear my only chance of stopping anytime soon would be if I crashed into a tree or fell on my face, which feels very probable. Vesth juts his arm into my path as he comes to a halt, and with an unexpected strength that completely belies his age, he captures my torso as I almost barrel past, bringing me to a very confused and frantic stop.

Before I can utter a single word or catch a much needed breath, I feel something solid being pushed into my stomach.

"Drink" Vesth orders sternly, his eyes scanning the trees behind me warily.

Gasping heavily, I look down his dark wrinkly hand and see a small, thin vial of unmistakable green liquid, which I take and greedily bring to my lips without second thought. A stamina potion. Normally, I wouldn't dare touch something so insanely expensive, however, normally, I'm not running away from creatures fabled in legends and bedtime stories either. Money is the least of my worries at the moment.

I drink the potion down in a single gulp.

The tiny amount of green liquid tastes sickly sweet and spicy as it rolls over my tongue, tasting like a combination of pepper and sugar water, but thicker in texture. A vast improvement to the extreme bitterness of the health potions sold by the Guild. As the magical liquid settles in my stomach it begins to burn my innards, slowly at first and then with more ferocity, almost like how I'd expect a poison to feel. But true to the stamina potion's name, an energy that previously didn't exist in my exhausted body soon pumps through my screaming muscles and forcefully smothers the fatigue away, making the blazing agony in my sides and legs feel more like a searing agony instead.

It's then, I feel a tightness in my chest let go as I finally notice that a fiery death is not longer, literally, hot at my heels.

"Don't even think about" Vesth growls irritably, somehow noticing me reach for my sword despite looking in the other direction "Keep running. Get back to the Guild while it's still lost our trail and warn them. Now."

'But you'll face it alone! And that knife of yours doesn't even have half the length of my sword!' is what I want to say, but the seriousness in his voice keeps my words at bay. He's right. A threat of this level is beyond us, maybe even the whole village if any of the legends are at least half as true as they're said to be. If someone doesn't warn the Guild immediately then the whole Village could be in danger. Will be in danger. That's something I absolutely can't let happen.

"That way" Vesth adds as an afterthought, pointing a finger in the same direction we'd been running.

"Yes... sir" I exhale between wheezes, slowly stumbling away from the man and gradually picking up speed.

Heroes. We need Heroes.

"Goblins? About halfway down the valley you say? And how many did you see?" I ask disinterestedly, not bothering to look up as I hastily scribble out the remaining details of a earlier timber wolf attack that I omitted.

These wolfs are getting more and more ambitious. Three attacks each week is double the norm, and double the workload! As if there wasn't already enough paperwork to sift through. It might be the time to suggest a proper cull on the wolf population to the Guildmaster, or at least, ask her to raise by the bounty by a few coppers before someone gets mauled to death. It would certainly save me seeing another poor farmer walk in with half of his arm missing. That isn't something I'd like to see again.

The travel weary merchant curls his lip in anger at my lazy response and answers curtly in kind, not that I could care. "At least 20 of the filthy worms ambushed my caravan by the stream. That's more than ever before, and they very nearly made off with some of my expensive merchandise!"

He tilts his head at the few idling adventurers in the Guild entrance hall as they either deliberate their next missions or eat an early lunch. Then in a much louder voice, audible to everyone, he haughtily sneers "Isn't keeping the roads clear of pests one of the Guild's responsibilities? Or is that too far above this Guild's level? I wouldn't be surprised in a backwater village like this."

Nice.That earned him a few well deserved glares. How brave. It really never fails to amaze me how easily some people find it to announce themselves as total, useless fops. And I've been working here for two years! They can't help themselves! It always seems to be the wealthy ones too. They all believe that us normal people live to serve. It disgust me. Well now he's about to find out how quickly word of a snobbish merchant travels in this village. Have fun 'not' selling your wares now.

"Sure sounds terrible" I agree care-freely, still looking down at my desk and writing, only the words I'm writing have no significance other than further infuriating the merchant as I refuse to look at him. "Thank you for bringing this issue to the Guild's attention. I'll post a notice... later. As you can see, I'm rather busy with more important matters at the moment."

The merchant's face goes red in indignant rage, like, as red as a tomato. Is that some type of skill?

"More important?!" he cries aghast.

Rayon hears my words from across the room and he promptly stands from his seat next to the doorway and begins walking towards us while the red-faced merchant's anger visibly builds. The Guild's bouncer's boots thud imposingly on the wooden floor under his heavily muscled body, and his metal armor chimes loudly with each step, but most threatening of all is the gold pendant around his neck.

"You're going to leave now Sir. No fighting in the Guild." Rayon warns as he approaches the merchant from behind.

The merchant's eye's go wide in outrage as he whips around, no doubt ready to unleash hell - only for him to stare dumbly at Rayon's chest due to the size difference, not that the merchant is short by any standards. Rayon is just big. Big and scary. The irate merchant then raises his gaze up to the Rayon's face, only to stop halfway up, where the gold pendant hangs over his shining armor. The small, smooth, gold rectangle isn't magical or dangerous in any way, but it does have a 'II' stamped into it, and that's warning enough. The color in the merchant's face drains away as he stares blankly at the piece of gold, even going a few shades whiter than when he first walked in, which brings an uncontrollable grin to my face.

This is the best part of the job.

Wisely, the merchant says no more as he stiffly walks around the armored behemoth that is Rayon, keeping a respectable distance from Rayon's reach as he does. A few other adventurers who were close enough to hear the merchant's rude comments chuckle as the pale merchant heads to the door in a hurry, as do I. It never gets old.

"Prevention is better than cure Kalita" Rayon admonishes me halfheartedly, expressing a bored look as the merchant exits through the open door "Don't poke the high and mighty, or they'll throw a tantrum"

"That's what you're for, right?" I ask innocently, attempting to batt my eyes at him.

He rolls his eyes and snorts lovably as he wanders back to the chair by the door. As he sits back down, he reaches for the book on the table next to him and resumes reading whatever it was that he was reading. That's 90% of his job. The other 10% is asking people to leave, which they always do.

He's so cu-awesome. He's cool. He's only a few years older than me, but not even adventurers twice his age can reach Gold II. It takes amazing talent. It's too bad I have so much work to do or I would try to chat a little. One day, it might be nice if I could, I dunno, do a mission with him or something. I don't have a rank of my own, but if I asked him nicely to escort me on my first mission he might do it, won't he? I'm sure he would.

"COME BACK HERE" a voice screams from outside. A familiar voice. An unwanted voice.

"I SAID COME HERE YOU FILTHY CHILD AND APOLOGIZE FOR GETTING MY CLOTHES DIRTY!!"

I exchange a look with Rayon and he nods with sigh as he places his book back down.

"GET BACK!!" the merchant wails from just outside the Guild.

Rayon steps to the door, but is shockingly shoved backwards as a young man who distinctly isn't the merchant lurches in and staggers directly to me, with fear and panic in his eyes.

A worm of dread immediately gnaws in my stomach as the ragged adventurer stumbles closer. This too-young man, despite having numerous cuts and tears all over his clothes, and a layer of dirt smeared from head to toe over his body, is someone I vaguely recognize. And then it hits me. He's the one who set out with Vesth on a scouting mission earlier this morning, right at the start of my shift. But when he did, he wasn't a total wreck like he is now. He looks like he was thrown off a cliff.

And Vesth is a Silver III adventurer, only a single step away from Gold. Along with Rayon and a few others, Vesth has one of the highest ranks in this Guild. Nothing goes amiss during Vesth's missions, everybody knows that, especially me.

Weak, battered, desperate, and barely standing, the Stone rank adventurer basically collapses onto my desk in a heaving mess. He looks up and locks his delirious eyes with mine for several wordless seconds as he tries to force air back into his lungs.

Regrettably, seeing an adventurer like this isn't a rare sight. But either because of the pleading look in his eyes, or the emergency in his movements, the whole is Guild silent as he speaks, expect for the merchant growling outside.

"The f-.. forest." he stammers.

"A..."

"a.."

"... p-..pheonix"

If the Guild wasn't silent before, it is now.