Spring always brought excitement to the village as foolish outsiders boasted about hunting down and defeating the mage. This year’s brave but mostly stupid adventurers were a bit unusual compared to what the villagers typically see: a group of four travelers, two women and two men, all with a youthful visage, but they had a sharp look in their eyes as they paraded through the village shouting phrases like “Rejoice everyone!” “Your saviors are here!” “Get ready with your finest drink when we bring back the monster’s head!”

In their group, they each had horses, and behind them was a large wagon carrying a large cage with a tarp hiding its contents. A low droning growl can be heard from it. The group stopped, and one of the women in the group walked up to a villager passing them by. Her long blonde hair shimmered dimly in the sunlight like sand. She swaggered over to the villager, smirking with amusement as she looked down at the man who was a few inches shorter than her,

“Good morning to you, sir!” She said joyfully, giving a toothy grin. “Mind pointing my friends and me in the direction of your village’s chief?” The man pointed with annoyance at a large house a few paces ahead of them. The woman waved her hand in thanks and left for her destination.

Standing in front of the house was a man in his mid-fifties. He had wild black hair and a scraggly beard, and a fresh frown on his face threatened to add more wrinkles to his weathering face. In his right hand was a smoothly carved walking stick. The female leader of the adventurers quickly sized up the village chief. If her travels taught her one thing, it was always to know who your audience was before making a deal.

She felt the man’s icy stare in her bones. One misstep and she might have to cripple his other leg before he smashed her face in with that stick. The woman bowed curtly at the chief before introducing herself,

“Good morning, sir. My name is Yoviene. Please forgive my friends and me for the noise, but this peaceful little area tucked behind Garlom range is quite a legend among seasoned adventurers.” The chief’s face softened slightly, and he chuckled with amusement.

“I am Renlo.” the man declared as he looked at the latest group of adventurers. In Renlo’s eyes, they looked experienced, but he had long learned his lesson in putting all of his hopes in those who exude confidence.

“Yes, I would imagine that it has become something of a rite of passage among you explorer types to try and defeat the dreaded “Mage of Darlocke Forest.” The Chief said dryly.

They’re all the same. Renlo thought to himself. The same arrogant walk, the same cocky grin, and this group is no exception. The mage will humble them as well.

“I’ll have you know, Chief Renlo, that my friends and I are a well-known group of mercenaries beyond your village. We killed many nasty and dangerous creatures and hunted down criminals so evil they wouldn’t hesitate to slit a baby’s throat. I think my team and I can handle an old fairy tale.” Yoviene said, eyes burning with determination.

Renlo gave a belly-aching laugh at her boast. Yoviene's polite demeanor slowly faded, her right hand reaching for the sword on her hip.

“And what is it that’s so funny, Chief.” She snarled.

Aware of his mistake, Renlo stopped and composed himself, saying, “Forgive my bad manners. It’s just, every year, it’s the same words every time. I hate to break it to you, Miss Yoviene but adventurers, mercenaries, whatever your lot call themselves, come here with the same condescension I hear in your voice right now about how scared a village full ‘superstitious idiots’ are of a mere fairy tale.” Chief Renlo grinned, “And every year, I get to see the same arrogant people who look down on us, run of the woods scared shitless. I’m sure your group will be no different.”

Enraged, Yoviene shouted to Renlo, “Why don’t I give you a personal demonstration of my skill!” unsheathing her sword and pointing it at him. Both of them stood still like a predator waiting for its prey to move. They stared at each other, eyes unblinking.

A woman in a dark blue dress ran outside of the house, not hiding her annoyance at the scene, “Renlo, what is going on here?” the woman asked as she approached the chief.

“Well, Farla, we have this fine group of people here to take care of our “problem” in the forest. Their leader was about to show me their capabilities.” Renlo smiled.

Farla punched the chief in the arm and started to yell, “Ahh, you and your games! Can’t you ever play nice when these people come!” Farla scolded. The woman turned and faced Yoviene, who stood dumbfounded and bored at the missed opportunity to fight. She sheathed her blade as Farla spoke to her.

“I’m sorry if my husband provoked you. He gets quite cranky this time of year. I’m sure you understand, given our situation. You all journeyed far to reach our village, why don’t you and your friends come inside for some food? I was just about to prepare for lunch. My children will also be home soon. They love seeing your lot and hearing tales beyond the village. My daughter especially.”

Yoviene smiled, relaxing slightly at the woman’s politeness, “We would be honored.” As Farla opened the door and motioned for them to enter, Renlo noticed the huge cage in their possession and furrowed his brow as he heard a low growling noise emanating from it. He turned to Yoviene and asked, “What is under the tarp over there?”

Yoviene gave the same arrogant smile. The one chief Renlo has seen time and time again, “Under there is the key to defeating the mage that's been plaguing your village for so long.”