Ben was a mid-level goon for Maw's gang. At a 5.7 height with brown eyes and black hair, the man would be considered average both in looks and physique, the only notable aspects of him being the sword at his hip that was made with leather strips running along the handle with flame enchantments and his well-maintained leather armor. As this seemingly average man traveled down an average forest road he yawned in the early morning as he sucked in the fog that had yet to be culled by the rising sun barely filtering in through the trees.

"Damn, outliers. Don't know why we bother giving commission status to these losers, they barely make enough to eat" He mumbled to himself.

While the local gangs weren't officially apart of Maw's gang, they were still allowed to work the territory's various extortion and protection rackets.

For a bit of rent of course.

Not being an idiot, Ben naturally trusted none of his underlings to perform the needed task of collecting his bosses due. It was on this fine morning that he now began extracting the rent from the various gangs along the highways, starting from the outermost gangs and slowly working his way back towards Bushwackers to save him the agony of carrying all those coins back towards the town if he started his collection nearer to the only stain of civilization here.

Coming up to the predetermined meeting site, a small grove nearer to the mountains, he calmly waited for a few minutes as he scanned the empty woods. Since the outermost gangs were too dispersed to make coming to them individually convenient, this was where they brought their rent for their commissioner.

Half an hour passed.

Ben huffed angrily to himself before stomping further ahead, his steel-toed boots crushing the dew-laden grass.

"If they're not dead, they'll wish they were by the time I find them," He promised the surrounding woods.

Going through the woods, he came upon a poorly maintained house. The two-story thing was rife with mold and vines on all its sides. Its grey woodwork told of better times long since past, but its impoverished denizens had no other accommodations to call home.

But as he came up the porch he noticed that the door was smashed open and the smell of death hung in the air. Coming up to the door he heard the tearing of flesh. Drawing his sword he looked through the door frame and saw several corpses being chewed on by coyotes. The tan furred beasts were content to merely growl at the intruder as they continued to feast on 4 dead men, all dressed in shabby, worn-out clothing.

At a closer inspection, Ben could make out dry blood on the rotting floorboards. Dark and dry, it told of a kill made well before his arrival.

"Well, I guess I better see what the potters have to say for themselves," He mumbled as he left the ruin. The potter gang earned its name for the abandoned pottery making site they called home. They were the most powerful of the weak bunch, an issue that was noted with some concern in meetings before. If they were hitting other gangs without the boss's consent, they would have to be brought back down to their proper size.

Going further down the main road towards a large campsite by the river dotted with tents and some crude wooden structures, Ben came up to the place with the power and strut of a king coming into his own domain as he approached from a good distance off.

For who would be so foolish to attack a made member of Maw's gang on his own turf?

The only surviving reminder of the camp's original purpose was the collapsed spherical roofs of the long-abandoned ovens nearer to the left side of the camp that faced the forest. The right and upperside were taken by the river.

"All right, you lot. Come out and expla-" Several crows flew out of the middle of the camp at his yell. It was then that he moved closer and noticed some of the tents in the mess were badly cut up and burnt from various cooking fires left unattended. Drawing his sword again, he crept forward. Among the tents were more bodies with the same day-old blood. Now aware that this wasn't an inter-gang fight, he paid close attention to the wounds. Several had their head smashed to a soup of brains, bones, and teeth among the pool of blood, but most were punched with deep holes or cut right in half. Curiously, several seemed to only be sleeping, with no apparent indication of what had killed them.

"Damn, the boss needs to hear about this, he'll know what to do," Ben said to himself.

Jogging his way back down the road, Ben came closer to the town. As he came around the bend in the road, his ears registered a stream of screams and the stomping of many feet. The front of the town had a large road running down the middle with houses and shops on either side. The usually peaceful location was now in pure chaos as dozens and dozens of bandits, both commissioned and official members of Maw's gang, laid against the various houses and in carriages. Some had their extremities either chopped clean off or barely dangling by a few fleshy threads, while some had bones crushed and sticking out of their skin.

Carriages from the church came in from further down the road with the nuns and priests administering various poultices and medicines. Even so, Ben saw several cases who were lost causes. Their deaths sure to be imminent or they would be too mutilated to be of use to anyone after they survived their current ordeal. Pushing the dirge of the damned from his mind, he shoved through the mass of panicked townspeople and priests trying to get a handle on the situation.

The local sheriffs' office was a few buildings further along the main road and consisted of a two-story building with the lower level for the police and the upper floor for cells. Bursting through the pandemonium at the front he came into the building. It was all dark wood with several desks on the open main floor to the right that had all the activity of a beehive and a sheriff's private office to the left, past which was the open staircase leading to the cells above. Ben maneuvered through the swell of secretaries, armored men getting suited up, and messenger boys going in and out of the building, to get into the sheriffs' office.

When Ben pushed open the dark oak door, he saw the pudgy man with brown lamb chops, a white undershirt, and a brown vest was at a desk near the back window dabbing his glistening forehead as he read over a report. It was one of a dozen on his desk.

"What the almighty fuck is going on here?" Ben yelled as he slammed the door shut behind him.

The sheriff jolted in his chair before turning his gaze up.

"We don't know. This morning a bunch of the local gangs working the roads stumbled in with all of these injuries. Thank the powers that be that the church has that oath to render medical aid no matter the recipient or we would just be digging mass graves right now." He said as he chewed a nail on his right hand in fear.

"Which ones were hit?" Ben asked, his mind already going over the costs involved in all of the lost workers.

"All of them as far we can tell. The ones here are just those who survived, the rest are either dead or were left to die. The only good thing is that the outer gangs haven't shown up, so we at least have that muscle to-" Ben shook his head sadly before crushing the man's hope.

"They're all dead. None of them showed up when I went to collect the rent and the two I visited were reduced to graveyards." Ben finished.

The sheriff put a hand to his forehead as he leaned into his desk. His rounded face showed an urge to vomit as he squeezed the report in his hand to a crumbled ruin.

"So, what happened? What attacked them and how?" Ben leaned forward on the desk with a demanding tone.

"We. Don't. Know. The few men who are still lucid enough to talk were asleep when it happened. All they remember is getting their bodies shredded, by what they have no idea." The sheriff put forward with a defensive meekness.

"Fuck. FUCK!" Ben screamed as he slammed down on the desk, dangling his head over it. He knew someone like him was a prime target by whoever, or whatever was doing this. But the attacks hadn't happened in the town, so this was the safest place for someone in the Maw gang if the needed information got out.

"Did you get word to the boss?" Ben asked as he lifted his head back up. The sheriffs' brown eyes showed a hesitance before he finally came out with a reply.

"Sort of," He said.

"Sort of?" Ben asked numbly.

"We sent out our only raven to tell him a few of his men got hurt on a patrol. It wasn't until we started getting more of the injured and dying trickling in that we realized the scope of what happened. They probably just think it was a bear attack or a pack of wolves going off the message we sent." The sheriff quickly said.

"One damn thing after another!" Ben shouted as he threw some of the paper on the desk onto the floor.

"Get me a horse, I've got to get word to them," Ben said as he went out of the office back into the street to stand and wait. Maw wasn't a forgiving boss, he was more the type who saw his underlings in two categories: those who succeeded and got promoted or those who failed him and subsequently failed to live.

And minions who let his entire protection racket go up in smoke because they were too scared to tell him of the danger? Those would certainly fall within the latter category.

The choice was to possibly die on the road or certainly die when Maw finds out what he didn't do, and Ben loved his neck far too much to do otherwise.

Eventually one of the stable boys came up to him with a horse saddled and ready to travel. After pushing past the crowds, he rode his way along the often walked road to the real source of power here.

Traveling on the road for a while, he happened upon two horses. They had spurs and saddles but looked quite spooked as the milled about the road. Ben looked a little bit past them to see something on the side of the main road. He eventually got close enough to make out three bodies with grey cloaks in the ditch and road beside a horse whose throat and chest had three deep cuts laying closer to the middle of the road.

The faint smell of smoke was also quite strong here. Spotting them, he stopped his horse beside the bodies and looked at them for a few long seconds. One had been cut in half while another had been cut to the bone by what looked a thousand blades. The third and final one had a hole in her head with blood dripping out.

It killed rangers.

Those cunts never bothered to give him a second glance despite his best efforts, whereas the relatively few men in the group weren't so bad when it came time to play cards or dice. But whatever he felt about them, their skill was without question. Sure they would never win a fistfight or brawl with their more slender lithe builds, but magic more than made up for that in any actual combat scenario. A fact they were always quite eager to demonstrate on any gang member who got too handsy with them.

So many piles of gold coins in investment and years of brutal training culminated in these women joining one of the more powerful and feared mage associations. All of that sweat, pain, and money now lay in the dirt, rotting like any other peasant or animal of the forest.

A sharp crack and yelp rang out behind the hill where the three dead women were sprawled out in the dirt. Curiosity overtook him as he carefully stepped over the bodies, and peeked past the hilltop.

In a grove alight with flames and burned trees, some distance away was a vine, deer skull monster fighting with two mages, one blond with blue eyes and one younger brown haired girl with amber eyes and a sharp chin. They were both burned and cut up as blood dripped down their shredded grey cloaks and leather armor but the vine monster seemed to be bleeding down its right arm.

"YAAAAHH" the younger girl cried as she charged forward with a sword.

The older blond looked furious at the charge but still was level headed enough to use it to her advantage. A blast of wind sent her flying over the thing as she drew a duo throwing daggers. But as she launched them at him, the daggers suddenly jerked out of the air and flew straight at the brown-haired girl. She took one in the stomach and one right between the eyes, promptly falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

"Metal-" The blond started but a sharp crack of air sounded out as a flower of blood bloomed on the woman's lower chest a few inches below her right breast. She kept her initial momentum but she only just barely managed to properly land with the bloody wound in her lower rig cage.

There was an odd sucking sound, like air rushing someplace. Ben thought it might be the mage but she seemed too dazed and looked like she was ready to pass out. When the sound stopped it was promptly followed by her head being violently punctured by ... something. The distance was too great to see.

The vine thing leaned against a tree for a few moments. A suggestion of taking out the wounded creature came to Ben's mind but the moment of rash bravery was quickly squashed. The creature then stood back up and looked around briefly before doing an impossibly high jump into the treetops.

Ben just stood there for a moment before he bolted back to his horse and made his way to the only place nearby that could hold off such a monstrosity.

After a few minutes on the road, looking around the familiar woods with new respect and terror, Ben finally came upon the field of stumps. The place was as chaotic and messy as usual. He stormed through the crowd, flinging curses and being cursed in turn. A few even got confrontational as he barged past, but a quick:

"Message for Maw"

would promptly make the man go pale and scurry out of the way. Coming into the grey stone fort, Ben looked around the yard of grass and towards the main building. The main structure of the fort was in the middle of several wooden houses and warehouses for storing goods, all enclosed by the grey stone wall. Coming into the fort proper by the way of a large wooden door with several iron bands, the floor was a smooth, almost reflective stone with some mana crystal lights on the lower section to give a V-shaped light showing out of the small alcoves running along the floor.

In front of him lay a mid-sized hallway only about twice as tall as a man. Along its sides ran several wooden doors with iron bars for added strength but he promptly ran to the end of the hall and opened the wooden door strengthened with steel bands. At the center of this room was a wooden platform. The mini room was far more luxurious with red carpets and several pelts of bears, wolves, and mountain lions. Above the wooden platform was a hole with several ropes attached to the platforms rounded frame that went up into the highest point in the fort.

As he came into the wooden cage he pulled a small rope that dangled in the middle. He was promptly pulled upwards, with only the occasional V-shaped light to break the darkness.

He went over his story again and again before the shine of an un-interrupted light almost blinded him.

"Yead, we still can't fix that. Although it's probably better for security's sake." A voice said as Ben squinted his eyes.

As the rest of the room came into focus took in the rest of his surroundings.

The bosses 'meeting room' as he called it was a round room with more of the V-shaped lights running along the wall. At the center was a large circular table made of stone. It was a lighter color than the surrounding grey stonework and was encircled by several fine wooden chairs and people going over various pieces of paper.

From his position, Ben could make out two wooden doors past the table on the right and left. But the main attraction of the room was the small pack of leather armored guards around his boss on the right and the smaller team of grey cloaked mages on the left hovering around an older woman with greying black hair and a lean build, their leader, Freya. Both were looking at him like a fly that was hanging on the side of their plate. The only people not looking at him were the maids in white aprons and black silk dresses who served various meals and drink while taking away dishes.

"A mid-level grunt? You better have a very good reason to think you are worthy enough to use my lift and barge in here without an invitation," A muscular man with long flowing brown hair and painfully white teeth said, as he sat at the seat opposite the mages. Maw was a handsome fellow, one who certainly wouldn't have trouble getting women even without his considerable wealth, with a white undershirt and a rather expensive leather jacket that had white fur lining the hands and neck portions. This helped add some more hair to his otherwise smooth features. His brown eyes showed nothing but impatience as his black silk pants under the table moved with him tapping his boot on the floor with a steady rhythm of smacks.

"We're under attack! The- " Maw put up a large callused hand.

"We know. The sheriff of the local law" Maw took a moment to lightly chuckle at the joke title," sent us a raven. For you to think such a small matter is worth bothering me and interrupting such important negotiations is quite foolish." His wolfish eyes now shone with anger.

Ben's back slicked with sweat as he licked his lips but still, he pushed forward.

"The idiot sheriff sent out the raven too early. All of the local gangs have been attacked, including our official people. Also, all of the outlying commissioners are dead." Ben said, trying to get to the relevant parts as quickly as possible.

Maw's eyebrows shot up and he quickly whistled at one of his subordinates on his right with a large sword on his back and a horn at his hip. The near seven-foot-tall man with green eyes, pale skin, and a bald head shoved past Ben and pressed against the elevators button. Below was the soft scrape as magical tools moved the stone blocks that gradually lowered the man to the ground level.

"How would you know that the outer gangs are dead?" Maw asked as he leaned back into his chair and studied Ben like a wolf studies a rabbit.

"Ah, he is the one who collects the local rent from those disposable gangs we employ." A rat-faced man with a leather jerkin and brown pants said respectfully behind Maw's back. His grey eyes peeking behind his brown hair showed complete subservience to his master, through fear or devotion it was impossible to tell but these things were one and the same to Maw.

"Oh, well then let's wait and see," Maw said as he picked up a mug in front of him and took a deep gulp from it. Freya gave a light chuckle which caused a sour expression to mar the bosses otherwise fine features.

"Well, well Maw. It looks like you need our help as well. I already had a team sent out to go south a few minutes ago but if you need the help so badly-" Ben gave a light cough to interrupt her.

"They're dead," Ben said with a barely audible whisper.

No one in the room had been looking at such an insignificant thing like Ben after he gave his initial report, but those two words stopped everyone in their tracks. Every face in the room turned as one towards him. From the maid taking a used mug off the table, to the few people going over reports around the table, to even the two leaders and their guards. They all turned on Ben almost at the same time and the intensity of their gazes weighed on him like a physical pressure. The worst of them all was Freya. The hood partially obstructed her face against the soft yellow light glowing against the walls as her blue eyes spoke of extreme violence.

But her voice was as cold as the grave and about as loving.

"What?" She asked.

Ben had already made this decision on the way up the lift. Telling Freya that he let the killer of her precious cubs go was practically a death sentence. Telling Maw he let him get away was a guaranteed death sentence. Maw wouldn't be very understanding about letting the... thing that dared attacked his operations go, in spite of being completely outmatched by his opponent.

Maw might just kill him to help improve relations with Freya. The boss had never been a 'we're all in this together' type and now the brand of harsh discipline that prompted his journey here now held his tongue. Ben could choose to offer up invaluable tactical intelligence and probably his neck or keep his life while staying silent on badly needed information.

And taking one for the team was not what Ben had in mind when he joined a gang.

"Along my way here I saw five dead rangers. Three in the ditch of the road and two dead in a grove just past the bodies." Ben said quickly.

"The ditch?" Freya said like she couldn't comprehend what he just said.

Maw made no light jabs or smug remarks. The mages were stationed here as a part of an ongoing negotiation. In exchange for a central command away from the carnage in the southern gangs' territories, the mages agreed to provide another layer of security and they further burnished the gangs' reputation with their presence.

Mages weren't supposed to die here. Sure in the woods far away from here, a land and subject only spoken of in the warmth and safety of this castles strong loving walls, when fighting against the numbers, ability, and ferocity of the Frojan and Orcs they could and occasionally did. But getting murdered in the streets of the stable bedrock of their lives along with the expendable fodder simply wasn't how things happened. The mood turned dire with a hint of fear coming into everyone's eyes as their warm bubble of security was popped.

Maw cleared his throat and fiddled with the lip of his mug.

"At least we are safe here. Cren, get-"

"Fuck that!" Freya hissed, standing up in pure rage as the chair shot back and slammed into the floor. She turned on Ben like a hawk meeting a mouse.

"You! We're taking a trip to this magical ditch so wonderful that it's worthy of holding mages bodies. And I swear to god if you pilfered their bodies I'll... Come one" She said, shoving past a now paler Ben with her posse. Eventually, they all got down to the first floor with a few turns in the elevator. Sure there were stairs but this was still far faster for such a relatively small group.

As they were coming out of the fortress a horn blew in the distance.

"Ah, he must have found them. If I'm not mistaken, it's coming from where I saw the mages." Ben said carefully.

Freya did a dual hand thrust forward and sent a large gale through the crowd. Already milling about from the sudden horn blow, a few cries of pain and panic went out as confused people tried to shove themselves out of the mages way. Going back out onto the road they eventually spotted the man that Maw sent. A horn was in his left hand with his sword in his right.

Freya came straight up to the bodies and looked them over. Ben could only see the back of her hooded robe and a clenched right hand.

She finally spoke after a long minute.

"They didn't even get the chance to fight back. None of their swords or bows are drawn" Freya said with a quiet sadness.

She then lifted her head and turned towards the grove. Going up over the hill, some her gaggle of guards quietly followed behind her while two others went on ahead. Ben followed them over the hill into the grove. Several trees and bushes were smoldering and the gashes in the earth told of a long battle but Freya only had eyes for the two women lying in the dirt.

One of the guards, a tan man with dark brown eyes peeking out between black strands of hair coming out of the hood and a long face with a scar running along the right side of his jaw, came up to the younger girl and turned her over to inspect the blades sticking out of her head and stomach.

"If I didn't know better, I would say these were our blades." He said absentmindedly.

Freya came over and looked at the other dead blond woman before turning her gaze to the dead brown-haired woman.

"They are. Those were Diedras daggers." Freya said with a hint of numbness.

All of the guards took in a deep breath, with a mix of scowls and confused faces passing through the crowd.

"But how?" The man asked seemingly more hurt than confused.

"I don't know. Do you?" Freya said as she turned towards Ben. Her manner actually seemed less threatening now, more like an honest question than a veiled threat.

"Sorry, I heard a whoosh behind the hill as I was looking over the other three but when I got up the hill to see what it was all I saw were these two," Ben said, making sure to be as calm and even-toned as possible.

"Well that confirms some of our findings at least" A voice to the left called. A brawny man with short red hair and dark green eyes emerged from between the trees. His chiseled jaw had a red beard that stood out among the grey ensemble of his armor and cape.

"The tracks are damn odd. The middle portion could almost be seen as a boot but there are always small holes and drags in the dirt around the steps. One set has a deep imprint but nothing beyond it. It either did an impossible jump or flew off. Never seen anything like it boss." He finished.

Freya gulped and looked up for a few seconds.

"Gather the fallen. Maw's got more than enough supplies to hunker down for a while. Let the expendables do the dangerous scouting for a while before we risk coming out here again. No offense" She said to Ben as the other mages gave nasty laughs. Ben could only nod submissively as the rest of the group headed back to the fort with Maw's other minion and him in tow.