From her hiding spot up in a little alcove on the dais, Tiffany watched the transaction go down. She saw the stag head wearing man stand front and center from his comrades. She heard as this enemy spouted nonsense about the land and whatnot, saw in his eyes through their ghastly coverings the fervent hatred in his heart. It didn't take a genius to tell the situation was going down hill, and fast. So she sat sentinel, ever watchful, crossbow at the ready. The moment the antagonists drew their weapons, she let loose a bolt. It found the heart of the man to the farthest left, one of two clad in a hog's head. He couldn't even look down at the bolt before it took his life.

Stunned, the unsuspecting animals looked to their now fallen friend. When they then peered toward the darkness where the bolt had flown from, it was with anger and intent. With that first blow struck, the fight was on.

Calvin let go a warrior's shout. "If you pussies wanna fight, then come get some!" Kanabo held high, the barbarian stood his ground.

The other hog, enraged by the death of his swine-shod brethren, was happy to oblige. He charged straight up to Calvin. Like pinch hitter swinging for the fences, Calvin aimed straight for his head. The blow turned the hog mask, well as the skull within, completely around. With a sickening snap, the second and last hog-man died.

The woman clad in chicken's feet sprinted up to Brian, leveling a hatchet. Her blow came down on Brian's shoulder, and while it failed to break the armor, it still hurt quite a lot. Since she struck high, he retaliated low. With one hand on his holy symbol to the Platinum Dragon, his other grabbed for her midriff. Black tendrils snaked down his arms and into her body, the now familiar call of Inflict Wounds. The woman's veins bulged black and rotten. She let out a withering cry of fear and agony before her skin turned ghostly white and gaunt. She fell at his feet, dead.

The dwarf dressed in bluejay feathers moved upon Ylva. He fainted high with his sword, and then stabbed low. Ylva, still reeling from how quickly negotiations failed, took the bait. The thrust fell right below her shield and through her maille armor. The tip didn't go far, but still caused some damage.

From his spot directly behind the line of battle, Hector poured a drop of water on his staff. He sliced through the air, light blue trailing behind the weapon. He then thrust straight through the lingering tail. A spike of ice shot from the contact point, destined for the Stag, who managed to step out of the way. The ice sailed past him to burst in the air directly behind. Both he and the eagle's beak wearing man were caught in the blast radius. The beak man jumped out of the way. The Stag was not so lucky. Shards of ice flecked across his bark skin.

The topless woman in her crown of ferret heads walked out into the middle of the room, not far from the melee. A knife pricked her finger, and she flicked a drop of blood at them from the wound. This drop expanded to a dark cloud, one which threatened to overtake Ylva, Brian, and Calvin. Brian automatically grabbed his holy symbol, and Bahamut's radiance saved him. The other two weren't so lucky. Clouds coalesced around both of them, thunderheads clouding their vision.

"Can't see!" Calvin screamed.

"I can't focus! What is this?" Ylva called a second later. But Brian knew, for he had access to the same spell. His friends had just fallen victim to a Bane.

The beak man saw the danger of such spells, and moved away to prevent their power. He grasped something around his neck, a silver pendant with a blue wave in the middle. Brian realized this was a holy symbol a moment before green light gathered in the beak-wearer's palm and streamed for Ylva. The shieldmaiden had no chance of defense. The light slammed into and through her. When the illumination faded, Ylva was not on her feet, but instead unconscious on the floor.

Distracted by this sudden and terrible turn of events, Brian failed to notice the bull-headed chap casting at him. He caught a flicker of motion a split-second before a magically propelled rock hit him from behind. The impact staggered him a step. Stars swam through his eyes. A wide stance was the only thing to keep him upright.

The hits kept on rolling for the cleric. The Stag drew a bit of fat from his animal head. He combined it with a bit of grey stone and some iron from a pouch at his hip. Some words in a foreign language, and these blossomed into a great raging inferno. The man pointed to a spot behind Brian, and from it sprang up a rolling sphere of fire. Brian tried to step away, but the ball plowed into him. He had just enough time to feel the overwhelming heat before he blacked out within it.

Tiffany wasted zero time at all in rushing over to her downed friends. She'd seen this before, and while it still made her heart sink, experience drove her feet. Deft hands clambered through Brian's pouch to where she knew he kept his healing potion. She uncorked it with one hand and shoved it down his mouth. While the liquid poured down his gullet, she hefted her crossbow and shot at the feathered dwarf. The point delivered death to his neck. As he fell, Brian's eyes flickered open. Though the heat still surrounded him, he was awake and alive. Once again, he owed Tiffany for saving him.

Calvin saw an opening and broke away from the pack. He took a wide path through the room, giving plenty of space to the girl with ferrets on her head, though he would've liked to hit her for casting at him. There were other targets to prioritize. The barbarian stopped adjacent to the Stag and used the sudden stop in his momentum to launch a vicious swing. The great club caught the Stag in his shoulder, and while he bent at the impact, he did not crumple.

The ferret-wearer detested the idea of her leader coming under attack. She moved up behind Calvin, put a hand on the symbol around her neck—one identical to the one worn by beak man—and uttered a few words. Black tendrils snaked down her arm. She reached out to grab Calvin's shoulder. The barbarian, having heard her cast, spun around and batted her hand away.

"Oh fuck no you don't!" He yelled. "I know what that shit is!"

With everyone else distracted by their fights, Hector saw his chance. Arcane utterances on his breath, he passed his hand in a trio of circles around the top of his staff. Each pass trailed fire. At the end, he thrust forward. Three rays of fire twisted and swirled through the air. One hit the Stag, one burned the ferret woman, and the last slammed into the beak man. Hector had hoped choosing these targets would dispel the magical effects plaguing his friends, but that was not the case.

Brian's first act upon regaining consciousness was to reach over and heal Ylva with a hand on her forearm. He then stood and took a few steps away from the flaming sphere. The releif he felt upon exiting the fire was both immediate and overwhelming. It took his breath away, and halted his movement.

The beak-man had taken quite the beating from Hector's fire attack. Most of his right side had been charred black. He knew his time in this world wound slowly to an end. He limped over to his leader, dragging one burned foot behind him. A hand on his holy symbol caused green to encapsulate his other outstretched palm. He passed the healing energy into the Stag, and then fell to a knee.

The moment Ylva's eyes opened, she snapped to her feet. She charged forward, a fire behind her eyes. Rage burned within her, fueled by hatred for this new foe. First they ambush her friends, and then they attempt to take her out first? The audacity simply could not stand. She produced one of her javelins and, with hardly a second to aim, hurled it at the beak-wearer. His prediction came true, as the missile drove him to the ground. Ylva did not stop there, however. She made a second throw, this one at the Stag who had just been healed. The javelin embedded in his side. He screamed out and glared at her, but did not disengage from Calvin.

The woman wearing a bull's head recognized the immediate threat Ylva presented. She moved to stand directly in front of the shieldmaiden, a safe distance away. She spoke some magic words and rubbed her hands together. Embers flicked between them until she thrust both out. A flaming fan emanated from her. A good attempt, but far too obvious. Ylva planted herself against the stones beneath her. The flames passed overhead, and while they were hot, they hardly did anything. When they passed, Ylva stood back up, a sly smirk on her face.

The Stag knew he couldn't last in direct combat with the much larger Calvin. So, he shouted a single word and stomped his left foot. A sound like thunder cracked through the church, and for a moment no one could hear anything. With the Stag as the epicenter, a blue wave rippled out. It washed over Calvin, but he stood firm. The wall of force could not tear him from his feet, though the impact rocked him.

The Stag looked from Calvin, to Ylva, and back again. Everywhere he looked, his options deteriorated. His eyes locked on Brian. Yes, if he took out their healer, this would swing in their favor. He directed his flaming sphere to once again hit the cleric.

This time, Brian was wise to it. He swung around and batted it away with his shield. To his surprise, it actually worked. The sphere bounced off, landing right next to him. He still felt the heat wash over his body, but abating the attack kept it from crippling him. However, his limbs felt heavy and his head throbbed. He doubted his ability to withstand much more punishment.

From her perch, Tiffany lined up a shot against the topless woman and her ferret crown. The bolt hit her in the back. She gasped and stumbled forward. The ferret-wearer looked back in search of the attack, and while she did find Tiffany, the act of doing so distracted her. The clouds harrying Calvin and Ylva dissipated. Ylva shivered, and Calvin took a deep breath. Both had forgotten what it felt like to move at full speed, to think without obstruction.

So excited was Calvin, he launched a swift attack at the Stag. But, his arms weren't yet used to working normally. The Stag managed to draw his quarterstaff and beat the attack away.

The ferret-wearer saw her opportunity to strike. While Calvin recovered from his failed attempt, she once again let the black tendrils gather down her arm. This time, she deposited them into Calvin's back. A pain the likes of which he'd never known stole his breath, caused his entire body to seize up. He managed one strained, long breath. Quick as it came, the agony vanished, but not before leaving its mark. Calvin's veins bulged, and much of his skin had withered to black.

The fight was going a lot better for his side, but not good enough. Hector moved up to within dangerous proximity of the melee. From his pouch, he produced three little tarts. He crushed them in his fist, and then waved a feather at the Stag. A familiar pink mist floated from him to collect around the Stag's animal helmet. From within it rose up a chorus of terrible glee. Unable to contain himself, the Stag fell, rolling with laughter.

Having seen the power his own spells produced, Brian knew the importance of removing that strength from the enemy. He grabbed his holy symbol and sent a call to Bahamut. Golden light gathered in his other outstretched hand. It grew to blinding luminescence until, with a push, he shot it forward. The beam engulfed the bull-headed wizard. He gave a stifled cry. When the light dissipated, all that remained of him was ash. The moment that was finished, Brian ran all the way to the far wall in an attempt to get as far away from the flaming sphere behind him as possible.

Ylva moved up behind the ferret-wearing elf woman. She took a swipe, but the noisy jangling of her armor gave her away. The elf leaned out of the way, a glance for her new opponent. Ylva took a deep breath. She needed to focus, to center herself. Just a little more.

The Stag rolled around on the floor, voice rough with constant laughter. The sane part of his mind, the piece of him that knew what was happening, screamed at him to regain some amount of control. But he couldn't, it was just so funny! Wait, what was? Had he even heard a joke? Maybe that sane part of him was right. Maybe it was time to—he froze in place, the joy abated in a gasp. He looked around at the battle devolving around him, but had no time to do anything about it.

He watched a crossbow bolt sprout from the neck of his last remaining ally, the elf with her crown of ferrets. She clutched the bolt and fell, gasping for breath she could not get. He reached out to her, but a great impact shattered most of his ribs, and rolled him onto his back. The Stag looked up at the enemy barbarian, grimacing down at him, studded club on the upswing.

Footsteps drew his attention. The Stag looked to his right to find the aged wizard approaching him. The old man crouched down, speaking a few Sylvan words. Electricity arced between his fingers. The Stag tried to scramble away, but was too slow. The charged hand grabbed his broken chest. He didn't even feel the pain as all of his muscles locked up. The only thing he knew was utter despair before he saw the light, and his life faded away.

Brian watched all of this happen. Normally, after a battle, he remained on edge for a moment while he waited for more enemies to show up. This time around, he simply didn't have the energy. He slumped against the wall, miraculously staying on his feet but utterly incapable of supporting his own weight. He watched Calvin fall back onto his rump, breathing hard. Hector also settled into a sit, and even Ylva took a knee. The only one of them not utterly exhausted, Tiffany climbed down from the dais and approached the other three, crossbow in hand.

"Holy shit," Calvin said between rough breaths.

"Is everyone okay?" Tiffany asked.

"That was really bad, guys," Calvin continued.

"Is everyone okay?" Repeated Tiffany, more insistent this time.

"No, Tiff. Everyone is not okay," answered Ylva. She got to her feet, slowly sheathing her sword.

"What the fuck was that?" Calvin continued to ignore everyone and just shout into the void.

"We can't stay here," Hector said from his spot on the floor.

"What?" Intoned Calvin.

"We can't stay here, we need to leave," Hector reiterated. "There could be more of them. We need to get back to Trostenwald, to safety, as soon as possible."

"You want us to walk all the way back to town after all that?" Calvin couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"He's right," said Ylva. "We can't survive another attack like that if more come."

"That's assuming they're just as strong," Calvin said. "They could be weaker, or just a cleanup crew."

"They could also be stronger," countered Tiffany. "Or, this could be the last of them. We don't know what's out there, which is all the more reason to leave."

"I agree," Brian called from his spot on the wall. With gargantuan effort, he hauled his shield up and rejoined his party. He spoke as he approached: "I know none of us like to travel at night, but I don't see any other choice."

Brian stood next to Tiffany. His arm sagged from the weight of the shield strapped to it. Every breath came out as a wheeze, a puff which saw his whole chest expand, and then empty. That fight had taxed him to his very last. A combination of exercise and battle damage brought him to the brink of collapse. But, he was there, to stand with his team in a show of solidarity.

Calvin gazed between all of his teammates, clearly feeling his options deteriorate. "Can we at least take a breather, then?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," agreed Ylva. "We take a quick rest, make some torches, and then head out."

"We don't need torches, I have Light." For emphasis, Hector spoke some magic words and touched a dead lightning bug to a rock. It burst in a brilliant display of white light, illuminating most of the church interior. He held the rock in his palm.

"Even better."

"I can patch us up, in the meantime." Brian struggled to speak, to find his voice through huffing breaths. "I think I need a spell for myself, though. I can barely stand."

"Whatever you need, Brian," Hector said.

So, with permission, that's exactly what happened. Brian started by giving a big spell to himself, one that made him feel almost completely better. He then moved on to Calvin, who seemed the most hurt. The barbarian also got a spell to get rid of the decayed flesh. A quick treatment for his bruises, and he was right as rain.

Ylva's wounds were a bit more difficult. The only one worth worrying about was a puncture in her midsection, which first required a removal of her chain shirt. She then pulled up her tunic just beyond her naval. Brian's first reaction was to blink. He almost looked away. Ylva had a bit of muscle tone on her abdomen, nothing gratuitous, but she clearly took care of herself. It made sense, considering how strong her arms were, but Brian never really thought about it until just then. So, thread and scissors in one hand, he just stood there starring for a few seconds.

"Go ahead," encouraged Ylva. "I'm not gonna get mad at you, or anything."

As she often seemed to, Ylva read his mind. Brian met her green eyes briefly before returning to the wound in question. He knew it was uncouth to touch anyone without their express permission, regardless of gender. He'd been afraid doing so now would cross some sort of unspoken barrier. That Ylva gave her approval put his mind at ease. With deft hands guided by the Gift of Knowledge, he stitched her up.

That done, he took a well-deserved seat. As the unhurt members of the party, Hector and Tiffany took up guard positions. The former watched the hole in the west wall, while the latter kept an eye on the front entrance. While this was a good idea, it proved unnecessary, as roughly a half hour passed without incident.

That didn't make Brian feel any better as they set out, however. Hector took the lead. The rock in his hand lit the way. Brian peered at every shadow created by its light. He dialed in on ever sound, checked behind each blade of grass. Twice now, his party had been ambushed. Twice, it hadn't gone smoothly. They would not be taken unawares again, not if he could help it. If that made him a bit jumpier than usual, then so be it.

They plunged into the forest, nary a skip in Hector's step. Brian would've preferred to stick back and scope things out for a few minutes, but the wizard had other plans. Since he didn't want to be literally left in the dark, he kept up with the pack.

Brian couldn't keep his eyes locked on one spot for more than a second. The forest simply presented too many nooks and carnies, too many things to look at. There could be an enemy behind any given tree, waiting to jump out and attack. Each bush carried a trap desperate to be sprung. The shadows hid unspeakable horrors. The night birds calls were the cries of deranged monsters. The leaves smooshing beneath their feet betrayed the onslaught of approaching marauders. Brian was so on edge throughout the entire short walk, he didn't even realize it when he no longer traversed those depths. He had to blink a few times to bring himself back to the present.

As the attack happened during the last watch, time spared the party from walking at night. By the time they reached what remained of the path up to the church, the sun had already begun to creep over the horizon. Daytime out in the open meant a greatly decreased chance of coming to blows another time. Perhaps they all worried about nothing, an understandable plight given what they went through.

The anxiety they felt proved completely unfounded all the way back to Trostenwald. Granted, the walk was only about half the day, which left little time for anything to go wrong. Brian wasn't really thinking on that level. As they walked through the gates and into the bustling city, it amazed him that they made it there in one piece.

Did this people know? Brian watched them going about their daily business, working, talking, traveling to and fro about whatever errands they had to run, all of them lost in the humdrum of everyday life. Did they have any idea of the crazy people living practically just outside their walls? That was one of the advantages of civilization, the ability to ignore such things. Brian envied them.

The five walked to the guild hall and entered through the armory. Therdin was nowhere to be found, so they continued straight on to Edgar's quarters. Hector gave the door a good couple knocks.

"Enter," said the voice from inside.

Hector opened the door to find Edgar in the same spot as always, sitting behind that little writing desk on the right wall just beyond the entrance to his room. The party filed in as Edgar greeted them.

"Ah, you're back. Did you complete you contract," the old man asked.

"Well, yes and no," Hector began. "We eliminated the bandits, but since this contract was given to us by an organization and not a person, we couldn't get anyone to sign it. We were hoping you could tell us what to do from here."

"Let me see the scroll." Edgar held out his hand. Hector produced the scroll from his pouch and gave it to the old man, who immediately began casting a spell on it. "The entire reason we bother enchanting these things is for situations like this. If there's no individual client, the scroll will tell me if the job has been completed."

Edgar took a few seconds more to cast the rest of what seemed to be a fairly complex spell. He moved his free hand around in an intricate pattern, tracing sigils over the scroll. Purple lines followed his fingers, and while Brian could make out obvious letters, they were in a language he didn't recognize. When he finished, there came a flash of blue light from the page, and then it dissolved in the familiar glittering purple ashes.

"I take it that's a good thing?" Calvin remarked.

"Perceptive, aren't you?" Edgar's tone dripped with sarcasm. "Yes, it's a good thing. Had you not met the requirements of the contract, it would have flashed red and remained whole. That it is gone means the job is complete, and the 1,600 gold reward is yours." Edgar produced a coin purse from his sleeve and tossed it to Tiffany, who let it fall into her waiting hands.

"Thank you, Edgar," Ylva said.

Edgar nodded. "Is there anything else?"

The party all shared a moment of hesitation. They looked around at each other, unsure of how to proceed. After almost a minute of this, Hector spoke up.

"There is something, actually," he said with an air of caution.

"Well, out with it," Edgar prompted.

"In the night—well, I guess early morning, technically—we were attacked by this group of..." He paused to find the right word.

"Fanatics," Ylva supplied.

"Fanatics, yes. They all wore dismembered parts of animals on their bodies. One, for instance, wore a stag's head over his own, while another had a crown of severed ferret heads."

"Shame. She would've been fine, otherwise," Calvin said. Brian thought the timing of his comment highly inappropriate, but he couldn't disagree.

"The point is," Hector brought them back to task, "they came at us. Hard. We almost didn't make it."

Edgar took a deep breath and pondered this for a moment. "Do you have any idea what they wanted?"

"Not really," Ylva shook her head. "They said something about removing the church from the land and how they were protectors of the soil, or something like that. Called themselves holy warriors."

"We found this journal," Tiffany said. She stepped froward and produced the journal in the hand that didn't clutch the coin purse. "I think it belonged to the bandit captain. One of these fanatics had visited them before and tried to convince them to leave. When they didn't, he threatened to make them regret it. We think they had come to kill the bandits."

"And you just happened to be there at the wrong time," Edgar completed the thought.

"This isn't the first encounter we've had with them, either," Hector said. "We told you about the crazy guy in our very first job? We didn't mention that he wore a giant rat's head and had gloves made of rat's feet. We think he was a part of whatever group the people who attacked us belong to."

"This is interesting, indeed," Edgar said. "There have been sightings of people wearing animal parts, but nothing so organized as you're suggesting. It sounds like they were more concerned about the church than the bandits, and if that's the case, they could be trouble."

"Do you know anything else about them," prodded Ylva.

Edgar shook his head. "No. They seem to be a relatively new threat."

"So, what do you want us to do about it?" Hector asked.

"For now, nothing," Edgar said, and Brian felt his heart sink. "Your responsibility is to the Adventurer's Guild, and nothing more. I'll look through my recent archives to see if I can find anything related to this group, and I'll tell you when I do, but I don't want you running off after them in the meantime."

"But—" Ylva began.

"Do not challenge me," menaced Edgar. He didn't raise his voice, but still managed to quiet the room. "Your desire to pursue this thread is admirable, and displays the qualities of a true Guild member. I'm willing to help you in this and share what I find out, but if you defy me I won't be so kind."

"We understand." Hector gave a quick bow of his head. "Thank you for listening to us, and offering to help."

"Yes, yes," dismissed Edgar. "Now, if you don't mind, I suddenly have quite a bit of research to do." He waved them off and returned to his writing.

"See you later, Edgar," Ylva said. The old man responded not.

With that, the party departed. Brian had been hoping for more, honestly. Edgar always seemed, for lack of a better word, omniscient. That he didn't know something was both startling and oddly relaxing. It made him seem more human, and the Guild itself much less intimidating. Edgar's admission of ignorance, and his offer to help, set Brian's mind at ease more than any amount of settling in could. The Adventurers may have been a bunch of extraordinary people, sure, but they weren't supernatural.

He returned to the boys' room and plopped down on his bed in the first time in what felt like forever. He would rest well that night, safe in the closest thing he had to a home. Although dreams of minotaurs plagued his slumber, he could at least be secure in the knowledge that his friends would not be alone in their newfound fight.