“I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me meet an intelligent grimoire before we left.” Sparky groused.

“Sparky, I already told you, the girl’s already been through an infernal plane or two and back: remember the body? Chest just gone. Not exploded, not vaporized, gone. She didn’t need you nerding out over her partner after that.” Rodrick explained yet again.

“I know, I know, but still; how often does one get to meet an intelligent artifact?” Sparky acquiesced.

“Hush up. We’re getting close.” Sam sibilated.

The two ceased arguing and turned completely serious in an instant. Spaerekel was left to follow his two teammates, trusting in their superior senses. While his magic could easily place him on equal footing, he was minimizing its use as part of a standard formation they had used hundreds of times in the past. He only used a weak sound damping field and his weakest agility spell. He only needed the latter due to his lack of practice.

The trio slowly advanced until Rodrick signaled for a stop. He spent several long minutes surveying the raider’s camp. Finally he signaled for an orderly retreat. The trio moved away just as carefully.

“I’ve confirmed at least a dozen prisoners, at least three dozen grunts, and two VIPs.” Rod reported.

“We can’t do this on our own then.” Sam surmised.

“Agreed.” Sparky and Rod responded together.

“I think Sparky should back off and send a message for reinforcements, and we’ll keep watching and tracking them until we can meet up with support. Other options?” Rod proposed.

“I say we should pull off a hit-and-run. Probably kill a dozen or more of their grunts and get a more accurate assessment of their forces.” Sam replied.

“One moment.” Sparky requested.

After repeating a simple spell about a dozen times, he looked up and spoke:

“Their anti-scrying measures are vulnerable to sounding. I say we just go back to town and keep tabs on their location that way. We can’t just go galavanting off anymore: we have jobs now.”

Sounding is a divination technique used to determine the location of people who don’t want to be found. Rather than trying to directly locate them, one instead uses a single very simple scrying spell. This spell targets a specific location and only lets the user know if it succeeds or fails. By saturating an area with repeated uses of the spell, one can determine where anti-scrying measures are in use.

“You make a good point. We do have to get back to our jobs; sooner, rather than later. I’d still like to get more information on their ranks without alerting them to our presence.” Rod considered.

“They’re probably expecting trouble coming for them anyway, given what they’ve done. I still think a hit-and-run will give us the information we need, and they can’t really move fast enough to make a difference in tracking them, not unless they want to try and move captives along a major road in broad daylight.” Sam debated.

“I kinda like the idea of fucking up some of those scum too. We shouldn’t fight at full strength though. Better that they underestimate us when it comes time to take them out once and for all.” Sparky advised.

“Alright, I still think it’s a poor choice, but we’ll do a hit-and-run.” Rod conceded.

“CONTACT REAR!” A panicked raider had shouted when his compatriots had sported a pair of knives and arrows, respectively, where their eyes were supposed to be.

He barely had time to raise his arms before himself when a bolt of electricity blasted into him. Branching burns seared into his arms. He would probably never swing a sword again, but he would live.

He was incredulous when the assailants didn’t finish him off, and instead pushed into the camp proper.

The deadly trio danced through the camp, and for the first half of their raid they mainly went for maiming blows over outright lethal ones. But after passing through an area where mostly female prisoners were being held, every single one of Rod and Sparky’s blows were lethal. Sam though … they were more interested in leaving ‘presents’ in the groin of every raider they saw.

Said ‘presents’ were, as one would reasonably expect from the Draconid, knives. Most of the men would end up bleeding out through the substantial vasculature that fed what had been the men’s testes just moments earlier. The few who didn’t bleed out would never reproduce.

“The raiding group known as ‘The Crimson Drakes’ has been located. It has been confirmed that they have destroyed the village of Violet Glade, taking slaves in the process.”

“Estimated total strength: 71 men. Combat capable: 52. Based on wounded in infirmary, the target has minimal to no healing capacity. 5 VIPs confirmed: ‘Mad Jack’, ‘Eli Vil’, Dean ‘The Green Death’ Smith, an unknown spellcaster of middling strength capable of anti-scrying magics, and an unknown warrior favoring heavy armor and a warhammer/pick of above average strength.”

“In excess of 20 prisoners seen.”

“Intelligence gathering done through a hit and run raid. 23 casualties inflicted, with 9 confirmed kills and 4 likely kills.”

“VIP ‘The Black Knife’ confirmed dead. Bounty paid to responsible party.”

“The following former members of the Green Glade Ghosts remain ready and willing to assist with the assault and rescue operation: Samuel, Rodrick Blanc, and Spaerekel ‘Sparky’ Tankle. Full readiness reports to follow.”

Lord Regent Wickers frowned and rubbed his brow at the contents of the magically transmitted letter. She vaguely remembered hearing about the Green Glade Ghosts, but had to actually look them up to learn who they were.

She discovered that they had been a very impressive bounty-hunting team up until an unhealable injury occurred and they hung up the torch. An event that had occurred when Wickers herself was just a little girl, forty-five years prior.

After they retired, they settled in the town of Kilnar. Sparky continued his magical studies, Dani opened an inn and tavern, Samuel became the captain of the Kilnar Guard, and Rodrick moved from taking bounties to giving them out as Kilnar’s headsman.

After she relayed the most important bits to her advisors, she ultimately took the advice from her personal bodyguard:

“Take the three or four fastest knights at your disposal and send them to Kilnar. The Crimson Drakes haven’t taken slaves before, at least that we know of, so they almost certainly have a buyer lined up. Every day we delay the risk of more and more captives being handed off to the unknown party or parties.”

So Wickers drafted up the necessary orders and a suitable reply to the former members of the Green Glade Ghosts.

That night a squad of three knights flew from the keep on foot, for they were far faster than any horse.

They would arrive in Kilnar on the fourth morning of their journey.

Wickers just prayed that they could free the stolen people in time.