The thick groves of trees on both sides of the road grew thin, and as the peaceful days passed, they were eventually replaced entirely by chalky white boulders streaked with lines of orange and purple. Interestingly, the rocks were soft and easy to break, as Badax discovered to his chagrin when he climbed atop one to get a better look at the path ahead and it shattered to pieces beneath his weight. Brushing the thick, chalky powder from his fur, Badax kicked a piece of rock and watched it go flying before checking his banjo. Luckily, it didn’t seem damaged.

Beyond the rocks, the world had changed in other subtle ways. The long stretches of grass and flowers were gone, replaced by hardscrabble shrubs and patchy bits of dirt that crunched beneath his hooves. The air turned salty, and Badax found that he was constantly thirsty no matter how much he drank.

Urt scurried back and forth along the path, scooping up tiny bits of plants and shrubs and muttering to himself after nibbling on them, while Pansy complained loudly that there was nothing in the area that looked to be worth killing. Badax felt oddly out of place between the two of them, but was glad for their company all the same. It wouldn’t have been much fun to travel alone.

He held his banjo out in front of his body, carefully picking at the strings as they walked. Bluegrass Ditty filled him with the urge to find bright, happy sounds, and each time he did so he smiled. The woody twang of the instrument was pleasantly complex, but Badax couldn’t help but feel his fingers weren’t moving fast enough to bring out the true potential of the sound locked inside.

As they crested the next ridge, three large white birds with crimson talons dove out of the air and attacked with keening cries. Badax barely had time to look up, but Pansy let out a shriek that was entirely too joyful for the situation and flew up to meet them.

Their beaks and talons flashed, but the pixie darted between them and struck with her long nails. Her aggression didn’t seem to do much, for the birds simply shifted and attacked again. However, no matter how they tried, they couldn’t manage to land a blow. Pansy was a shooting star of orange light, seemingly everywhere and nowhere, her aura sparkling in the sun.

With the birds so focused on the pixie, Badax and Urt were completely left alone. Turning a light shade of orange, Urt reached down and scooped up a handful of stones. He took aim and lobbed two up into the sky, only for them both to promptly come right back down and bounce off Badax’ head. He must not have thrown them hard enough.

“Sorry about that,” Urt said quickly when Badax glared down at him.

“Give me those,” said Badax as he grabbed the stones and threw one at the nearest bird. To his surprise, it stopped in midair far lower than it should have, and hurtled back down to strike Urt right between the eyes.

The goblin screamed and hit the ground, and Badax threw another rock at the enemy. This time, he made sure to put all of his his strength into the throw, and the stone was a blur as it left his hand. However, once again, it stopped about halfway to the bird and came right back.

This time, Badax’ projectile hit Urt right in the stomach, and the goblin rolled to the side with an agonizing groan.

“…Don’t throw any more…” the goblin moaned. “They have…some sort…of…skill…that sends the rocks back.”

“What should I do instead then?”

Urt forced himself to sit up, and Badax could already see that the goblin was going to have a nasty bruise where the first rock had struck him. He didn’t seem too upset about it though. As a species, goblins had a surprisingly high tolerance for being battered around. It came from being “the expendable minions” for millennia untold.

After a few deep breaths, Urt clambered back to his feet and squinted up at the battle above. Pansy was darting in and out of the bird’s range, but Badax noticed a slight sluggishness in the pixie’s movements. There was something of a story in the battle, and the minotaur was compelled to lift the banjo without thinking, words spilling out of his mouth as he played.

“Battling three mighty foes, the pixie was in trouble. However, her friends came to her aid, and the air was filled with a Ballad of Bloodlust,” he bellowed, slamming his hand into the strings. Luckily, they didn’t break.

A grating melody, if the word could even be used to describe such a discordant thing, erupted from the instrument. Just as Badax said, it filled the air with unadulterated rage and then the world went red. Badax snorted and gnashed his teeth, meeting the fury like an old friend as he stomped his hooves and tilted his head back to scream a challenge at the sky.

“GWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOHHHHAAHHHHHAHHHHHH!”

Okay, maybe it wasn’t much of a challenge, but it was angry, damn it, and that’s what truly mattered!

Pansy turned scarlet, and her speed increased. Laughing like a maniac, she went on the offensive, zipping to the nearest bird. Wrapping her arms around its neck, the pixie twisted and there was an snapping sound just before the creature fell dead to the ground.

The second bird decided to seek an easier mark, and dove down toward Urt. The goblin, his chest heaving and his pupils dilated, dispatched it by smashing it in the head with a rock. Whatever strange protection the birds had against projectiles didn’t seem to work against good old fashioned melee attacks, and Badax felt a shimmer of joy and relief amidst the sea of bloodlust.

He played and played, slapping his hand into the banjo’s body with every note, but his fingers were starting to ache. The strings cut into them something terrible. When he could finally take it no longer and let the song end, the effects of Ballad of Bloodlust vanished too. Pansy’s color returned to normal, and she seemed slightly deflated. She was panting hard, too, and more than once in the seconds that followed, the last bird’s wicked beak and talons came dangerously close to finding their mark.

The battle was not yet won, and once again, Badax’ body moved without his conscious thought. Aiming the banjo’s head at their final foe, he pressed down all the strings with one finger and strummed hard. Ripples of blue energy – a Powerchord – and a snapping sound rang out, and the bird’s eyes crossed as it wavered in the sky.

Pansy took advantage of the opening, screaming and divebombing it. The impact of her body dragged the monster to the ground, where Urt was waiting with a raised rock. One unceremonious puff of feathers later, and the party emerged triumphant from their first real battle together.

It didn’t feel real, and for a moment, the three companions simply stared at one another in varying states of shock.

Pansy snapped out of it first. She was disheveled and had a few scratches where she hadn’t been quite fast enough to avoid injury, but her elation was almost palpable.

Flexing her tiny arms, the pixie’s smile was almost as wide as her face.

“Victory! That was awesome!”

[Congratulations! You have defeated the mirrorgulls! You have earned 30 experience!]

[Your party has earned 90 experience!]

[Next party level in 10 experience!]

[Warning! The following skills cannot be used: Ballad of Bloodlust, Powerchord, Bluegrass Ditty. Reason: No functional instrument currently equipped!]

Confused, Badax looked down at his banjo. It was, naturally, broken beyond repair.

Damn it, he’d destroyed another one. For some reason, the minotaur couldn’t help but laugh.