A thundering howl blasted from both structures, rattled my bones, testing my grip on the wrench. I clenched my fist. “What in God’s name is that?”

Max stood with closed eyes. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing heavily or smelling the air. Nikk twirled his spear. Idleness seemed to vex the toadkin more than anything else. Fidgeting or twirling spears looked to be the only way he could find enough patience to wait for whatever Max was doing.

“More gnolls,” Max said, opening his eyes. “Big ones.”

I was going to ask him how he knew it but assumed it was some sort of ranger tracking skill. Whatever it was, he must’ve only gotten it when turning level eight because this was the first time I’d seen him use it.

“Let’s go,” Nikk gurgled and jumped ahead.

“No.” Max’s commanding voice halted the toadkin and Scallion, who’d followed his master. “Where fracturing our group seemed the best tactic to handle the first wave, I believe sticking together as a unit will be paramount here.”

Delrik let out a shrieking cry. Hendrix and I jumped at the sound. “Mug and Thug! These are Mongrim’s guards. Bigger than any other gnoll in the forest, and stronger, too. Be careful, adventurers!”

Mug and Thug came into view, one from the north, the other from the south. Both were about seven feet tall and broad. They wore shabby leather armor fixed with spikes on the shoulders and elbows. One’s belt had an old wooden mug hanging from it — that one must’ve been Mug — and the other had a collection of small skulls dangling from his belt. Both carried massive clubs with blades tied along their length. Mug’s fur was light brown. Thug’s was black. Both were greasy and matted like a neglected hound’s.

“Besides standing all bunched up like this, do you got a plan?” Hendrix asked the elf.

“I’m thinking,” Max said. “I’m trying to determine if there are any differences that we should be aware of between the two. Our best bet is to use our group's full might against one of them before they converge. The sooner we chose which one, the better. However, we can only make that choice if we are sure they are identical. Otherwise, attacking the wrong one first might ruin everything somehow.”

“The only difference I can see is that one has a mug on its belt where the other has tiny skulls,” I said.

Max laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day where my eyes were beaten by those of a dwarf. How did I not see that?”

“Does it mean anything?”

“I’m not sure,” Max said. “But something tells me those items are clues to their skills. What those skills might be, I do not know.”

“Necro.” Nikk’s words were difficult to understand, especially when he spoke so hastily.

“The skulls would seem to hint at him having some skills related to necromancy,” Max agreed. “As for the mug…” He let the thought hang.

“Who do we attack first, then?” Hendrix said.

“Because I have no clue what the mug might mean,” Max said, “and the skulls likely mean necromancy, I think we should attack the southern one.”

“Thug,” I said.

“Sure.”

“Okay,” Nikk jumped four feet in the air and dashed toward the hulking gnoll.

It felt good to grow the distance between Mug and the group. Delrik ran with us. Forcing the fight against one was definitely better than defending against both. I just worried about how much time we had. From the moment we clashed with Thug, it wouldn’t be long before Mug reached us. A few minutes at most. Thug raised his bladed club and howled. Drool ran down his chin as the beast thirsted for battle.

Nikk jumped and landed before Thug, within club range. Thug swung. Nikk was off his feet again just as quick as he’d landed. He hopped to Thug’s right, then jumped again to stand behind our foe.

Max, Hendrix, and Delrik halted a few yards before reaching the gnoll. I didn’t look back as I continued to run with the pets, but I knew Max was readying his bow. Hendrix’s song began and filled my soul with the familiar vigor. I roared. It earned Thug’s attention. The beast took a heavy step my way and raised its club.

An arrow lodged itself in Thug’s chest. He barely seemed to notice. Scallion locked his jaw on the enemy’s ankle. Buttons pounced and sank her fangs in the meat of Thug’s shoulder. Nikk thrust his spear in and out of Thug’s flesh from behind multiple times. The toadkin was showered in blood, but the gnoll showed no signs of slowing down.

Despite what must’ve been intense pain, Thug pushed forward. His perseverance and apparent immunity to pain intimidated me, but I carried on. My friends were in the thick of it. There was no way I was going to run or back off.

Thug bellowed. I nearly dropped my wrench. I threw a handful of beads at the monster’s feet. He stepped on them and took another step, unaffected by the only ability I had other than wrench smashing, which didn’t seem too promising against such a force.

With no other real option and nothing in the environment to use, I charged the massive gnoll. I wasn’t sure, but I thought the monster smirked when it realized my intentions. It raised the heavy club, but Buttons’ tenacious chomping limited its motion. Nikk continued his spear thrusts, and Scallion continued his work on the monster’s ankle.

At seven feet, Thug was easily three heads taller than me. If I was going to strike at him, it probably shouldn’t have been at his face. I’d have a better chance of getting decent damage by hitting its joints or other sensitive, easy-to-reach areas.

Thug dragged half our party toward me as he rampaged onward. A few more of Max’s arrows lodged themselves into the beast’s hide, and it slowed slightly for the first time. I made my move. I charged in, ducked under its swing, and cracked its knee with a powerful strike. Thug yelped a deep, nasty sound.

I grinned for a second before his other leg — the one not being gnawed on by a green wolf — came crashing into me. I flew through the air and landed on my back, half-way to where Max, Hendrix, and Delrik stood. Hendrix moved quickly and crouched by my side. He never stopped his song, but he looked over me. A white number twenty floated above.

“You good, buddy?” Hendrix said above his song.

I nodded, even though the heavy landing had knocked the wind out of me. I sat up and caught my breath while the others continued working on Thug. The ground rumbled beneath me. I looked over my shoulder, and my jaw dropped. Mug had been sprinting. He’d made the distance in half the time we’d expected. “Behind!”

Max and Hendrix turned. The elf jumped back and released a stream of arrows at the new foe. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid,” he said. “Now our might is divided.”

His arrows were just as ineffective as they’d been on Thug. I didn’t know what to do. Which side should I help? What could I even do to support whichever side I did pick? My wrench was nothing compared to their clubs, and they had twice my reach. My beads did nothing. There was nothing in the environment to use.

Both gnolls stampeded in a direct course for Delrik. It didn’t matter if my efforts hurt them or not. All that mattered was that Delrik was protected. I swept in and hoisted the raventaur child from his talons. I carried him east to gain as much distance between him and both gnolls that I could. I put him down. “Stay here. If you see that we are losing, run.”

I turned back and returned to the battle. The gnolls hadn’t lost sight of their target. They roared and howled and continued running toward the child. I cursed. To make things worse, Delrik was running right at my heels, back toward Hendrix and Max. I glared at him and pointed to where I’d put him down. “Get back over there. You’ll get yourself killed!”

He ignored me and ran to the bard.

I glanced at both storming gnolls. They’d nearly converged to the middle of the field. I stood there feeling helpless as the others continued their efforts in vain. The gnolls halted. They were only a few strides away from their target, and they stopped.

Thug raised his arms. Nikk climbed up onto his shoulders and rained spear thrusts onto him. The skulls at the monster’s belt floated and glowed red. “Nikk. Get out of there!” I didn’t know what was happening, but I doubted anyone would want to be in the vicinity when it did.

Nikk glanced at me, nodded, and hopped off the gnoll’s shoulders. He rolled upon landing and jumped to his feet. A quick croak got Scallion to abandon the mangled ankle. Max whistled for Buttons, and the white tiger relinquished its grip and ran to its master.

The skulls at the gnolls belt ripped back and forth as if a violent windstorm raged around it. The red light increased in intensity until it was almost blinding. A sickening sound like worms wriggling about in an underground mudhole rose all around us. Each of us surveyed the area, searching for the source of the sound. I found it.

The corpses of the smaller gnolls we’d killed before twitched on the ground. One had died right where I stood, and its dead arm lightly nudged my leg. Its face was dead. Blank eyes stared at the heavens without a shred of life within them, yet the body moved.

The dead gnoll swelled up until its hide could no longer contain whatever was happening within it. The front of the corpse burst open like it was a buttoned-up shirt. A pile of bones rose and gathered into a humanoid form. The same thing happened to about twenty random gnoll corpses in all four directions. What was odd about the skeletons was that they weren’t the size or shape of what a gnoll’s skeleton would’ve been, but more of a human’s.

I didn’t have much time to think about it as the skeleton closest to me swung its bony arm my way. I parried it with my wrench, and the arm shattered against my weapon. I exchanged a confused look with the skeleton, and somehow, even without skin or eyes, it managed an expression that said it knew its end was near. I shattered the undead enemy with a single strike. Only ten damage, but that seemed to be enough.

“The skeletons are weak,” I shouted to everyone in the party. Thug continued channeling his spell, and other skeletons rose as he did so. Something caught my eye on the hulking gnoll’s body. “You guys take care of the skeletons. I’ll get Thug.”

To my surprise, everyone followed my suggestion as if it was an order. I could never get Dara to listen to me, and now skeletons cracked and crumbled all around me on my command. Hendrix stayed in the middle plucking his lute and watching over a wide-eyed Delrik.

There was increased pressure on me now. With the party following my orders, any subsequent failure would fall solely on my shoulders. I charged at Thug. Mug had also been standing still, roughly the same distance from the middle as its companion, but instead of floating skulls and skeleton summoning, Mug stirred something in its mug with its furry finger. Green smoke clouded above the concoction.

I couldn’t spare any attention to Mug. I had to try my plan against Thug first. I ran up to the beast and brandished my wrench. Thug faced the sky with its eyes closed, completely unaware or indifferent to my presence. I took a few free strikes. Ten damage. Nine damage. Ten. Eleven. Forty in total, and he barely flinched.

As a gadgeteer, my ability to use the environment to my advantage was — I initially thought — useless in this battle. But Hendrix had said that the gadgeteer above all other classes thrived on creativity, and I was about to. I threw my grin away and concentrated. There’d be time enough for patting myself on the back later. That is if my plan even worked.

I raised my wrench and struck. Only, this time I aimed for the arrows that had been embedded in Thug’s hide. I hit one that had been lodged in the gnoll’s abdomen, dead on. Thug squealed like a dying hog and fell to its knees. Ninety-eight, yellow damage. The floating skulls fell back to their original dangling position and their red glow faded. A sound like hundreds of firewood bundles dropping filled the air as the horde of skeletons crumbled around us.

The others cheered and returned to me. “How did you do it?” Max asked.

“With your help,” I said. “I’ll explain later. We’ve got to finish these guys off. I don’t know what that one’s doing with its mug, and I don’t want to find out.”

I was too late. Mug looked at the group, smirked, and lobbed his mug toward us. It left a graceful arc of green smoke in its wake and shattered at our feet. A puff of green cloud rose from the ground and enveloped us. The pets were the first to leave the cloud, but both toppled over as if they were too sleepy to continue after only a few paces.

Mug laughed. Delrik was the next to fall over. I crouched to inspect him, relieved to see he’d taken no damage. It must’ve been some sort of sleep-inducing potion. Then it hit me. Suddenly, I felt as though I’d cleaned out ten kegs of ale on my own. Every step I took brought me in the opposite direction than I’d intended. I was moments away from retching, and my head somehow felt heavy, and as if it were floating like a feather at the same time.

My companions weren’t any better off. Hendrix hobbled around with a stupid grin. He hadn’t stopped playing his lute, but the song he played was unharmonious and downright nightmarish. Nikk lay on his back with four lanky limbs pointed to the sky, and Max stood deathly still with a hand on his forehead, and his eyes slammed shut.

Thug got back to his feet. Both gnolls resumed their pursuit of the raventaur child, but my mind was too foggy to care. I knew deep inside that the quest was fading away, but I couldn’t will myself to do anything under the effects of Mug’s green fog.

“Pound an arrow into Mug as you did to Thug,” the ethereal voice of a woman said. Was it the princess? I looked down at my pocket and hoped to see some sort of glow, but there was nothing, and I nearly fell over in the process. “Get it together and hammer one more into that flea-bitten bastard’s flesh.”

It was a crude choice of words for a princess, but I obliged. Though my head felt like it was back above the clouds like in Leafveil, I moved my heavy feet with every bit of strength I had left. One clumsy step at a time, I made my way to Mug. The gnolls ignored the disoriented party and kept their focus on Delrik, who lay on the ground, oblivious to the monsters’ advance.

I emerged from the cloud. Mug towered over me and was only a few steps away from trampling me. I raised my wrench. At least, I thought I did. When I looked up at it, I saw that I had only managed to lift it level with my ear. It would have to do.

Mug continued forward. He showed no hints of having seen me, so I had to assume he planned on running right through me to get to the raventaur child. I braced myself. I stood in the steadiest stance I could muster under the effects of Mug’s concoction and waited for the right moment to strike.

My mind wandered for a moment, and I found myself wondering if I’d truly heard the princess’ voice at all or if it had just been a hallucination caused by the potion. I shook the thoughts from my head as Mug approached. I could worry about it later.

I counted five strides before I made my move. At the first sign of movement, my head swelled with intense pressure, and I nearly dropped to my knees in agony. I kept my feet and winced through the pain. Groans and painful moans sounded behind me. I wasn’t the only one in the party to feel it.

Mug was close enough now. I had one strike, and I had to make it count. I aimed for an arrow that stuck a quarter-way into Mug’s ribs. I raised the wrench as much as I could, my arm ached beneath its meager weight, and I whipped my nearly limp arm at the furry beast. The wrench cut through the air and flew towards its target. But it missed.

I missed the arrow I’d been aiming for, but through some kind of faceless luck, my wrench hit another arrow dead on and hammered it fully into the gnoll’s gut, so deep that even the green feathers at its base were buried in flesh.

The monster wailed just as Thug had and fell to one knee. It clutched the wound with a furry hand and glared at me. I waved at him with a stupid grin and soared through the air for twenty feet or so after a swift blow of Mug’s club.

My sky faded to black multiple times until I restored it with a labored blink of my heavy eyelids. A number floated above me, but I was too dazed to make it out. I managed to lift myself onto an elbow. I wanted to tell the others to grab Delrik and to run as far away as they could, but I hadn’t the strength to speak.

Max knocked an arrow and aimed at Mug. His arms shook as he held the bowstring pulled, and his aim wavered. The elf usually stood as still as a tree trunk when shooting, but the green fog had gotten to his senses.

Mug didn’t seem to care. Just like he’d done when I was in his way, the gnoll walked onward toward his target with little regard for anything else, albeit, this time with a bit of a limp and a trail of blood droplets in his wake.

Max released his arrow. It whistled past Mug’s head and landed in a far-off heap of dead flesh that had once belonged to a smaller gnoll. The elf staggered a few steps backward, unbelieving of his errant shot. Thug stepped behind him and trampled him. A furry knee in the back toppled the elf from his feet, and the gnoll continued onward, crushing Max’s bones with a heavy step on the elf’s spine.

I wanted to scream, I wanted to get up and tear both gnolls apart with my bare hands, but I could barely stay leaning on my elbow. A tear formed in the corner of my eye. We’d journeyed through the forest for days and nights, risking our lives to escort Delrik. All of that work was about to be for nothing. Not only did I face my first death, and not only was that first death likely to be a true death, but poor, innocent Delrik was going to have to suffer for my failure as well.

Scallion and Buttons leapt at Thug and sank their fangs into his already mangled flesh. Thug grimaced and grabbed both pets by the throat, held them both at arm’s length for a while. They thrashed in the air while the gnoll’s wicked hands clamped around their necks. Thug slammed both pets into each other. They went limp, and he dropped them to the ground. Massive numbers floated from their lifeless bodies. They were dead.

I clenched my teeth so hard they nearly shattered. I tried to yell at the remaining party members. I wanted them to run. Nothing but a strained whisper and a bit of spittle left my throat.

A long spear cut through the air and thumped into Thug’s throat. The gnoll gasped, wheezed, and fell forward. The spear pushed into him deeper once he hit the ground, and it pierced through to the other side. A massive yellow one-thirty-eight hovered over the gnoll, and his HP was at zero.

Nikk hobbled toward the fallen gnoll and retrieved his spear from Thug’s flesh. His balance faltered. He nearly fell over, but he kept his feet. He wiped the shaft of his spear with his hand to clear it of slippery blood. He whipped his hand afterward and sprayed the ground with gnoll blood as his long tongue ran over his eyes.

Mug roared. Thug’s death was the first thing that seemed to take Mug’s attention from Delrik. He turned his searing gaze onto the toadkin and hastened. Hendrix stepped in front of the rampaging gnoll and began plucking the song he used to charm enemies that were three levels lower than the bard. My heart sank. Mug was definitely not three levels lower. Not that it mattered. The green fog-influenced version of the song was barely recognizable. Even if Mug had been the proper level, I doubted it would’ve worked.

Get out of there, you idiot. I wanted nothing more than to shout at him, but my throat, like every other part of my body, was useless and broken.

With a single swing of his club, Mug rid himself of the pesky bard and continued toward the toadkin who’d killed his companion. Hendrix flew as far as I had but landed awkwardly, headfirst. A flurry of numbers escapes his body. One from the club, one from the rough landing, and God knows what caused the other two. I squinted my eyes and pursed my lips. He was nearly out of my range, but I was just able to feel his HP level. Zero. It couldn’t have been right. He must’ve been too far for me to get an accurate reading.

The bard’s body faded, and in his place sat a glowing green egg. Another tear formed, followed closely by another. I brushed them away. We’d survive the fight, retrieve the egg, and get him revived. And even if we didn’t, what was one true death? Hendrix would still have eight left after this one before he was truly gone for good. Another tear. That wasn’t it. My weeping came from a place of failure. My failure. As guildmaster, it was my duty to keep my companions alive. It was my responsibility to lead them competently. I did neither, and now Hendrix was dead.

Nikk was in his familiar crouched position, albeit a little less graceful than usual. Mug stormed his way. The same rage that burned in the gnoll’s eyes burned in the toadkin’s. Nikk had killed Mug’s companion, but the gnolls had killed Scallion. What was about to take place was a battle fueled by nothing but rage.

The toadkin waited for an opportune moment, still a little tipsy from the poison, and launched himself into the air. Mug’s fiery eyes followed the soaring toadkin with ease. Nikk fumbled a bit in the air but calibrated himself just as he started to fall back toward the ground. He readied his spear and kept his body weight behind it. He plummeted toward the vulnerable gnoll with a confident, if not a little vacant, expression on his green face.

Mug sidestepped the spear and rocked the airborne toadkin was a massive swing of his club as if he were playing a game of branch ball. Nikk faded and turned into an egg midair and flew into a far away heap of gnoll flesh.

That was it. There was nothing left to stop the gnoll from getting to Delrik. I lowered my head and pulled myself toward the hulking gnoll with every last bit of strength left within me. A loud crash like something heavy falling to the ground sounded before me from Delrik’s direction. I could barely get myself to look up. I crawled a while longer before finally finding the courage to look.

Mug lay on the ground, dead. Ucntcme stood over his head, gnoll blood dripping from daggers in each hand.