He couldn't believe his eyes when he first saw the trio come out of the gate and make their way onto the field.

A burly man with short brown hair, wearing a reinforced leather armor, a shield and a sword carried a girl around in a wooden contraption. It looked like an open box. Or a chair. The girl wore her blue hair in two braids wrapped around her head.

In front of the man walked the woman from yesterday. She had a sharp face and wore similar gear to the man, though her weapon of choice was a spear. A spiky strap was braided into her blonde hair.

Which begged the question: Why didn't the girl walk? Just because she had a some magical talent? To accommodate the little sorceress, the burly man had to carry her? She would probably look for a different party straight away. One that was more accommodating.

Scowling, he followed them with enough distance to be able to say that he wasn't part of their group. Just a bad coincidence that they were going in the same direction.

If only the sorceress would stop chattering away!

"Where do you come from? Have you always lived in Brookwasp City? You see, me and Roric and Lydia, we've been together for a long time. We come from Fairtown Fen, a city east of here. But the dungeons there are easy and not very challenging. We've cleared all three of them several times. But we wanted something more challenging, so we started traveling. After hearing about the Silkhook Dungeon, we came here. But they didn't want to let us enter without a Ranger! But now we have you, so it won't be a problem. Do you like stew? I make a mean stew, just ask Roric or Lydia. They can't get enough of my stew. But I'm also good at making stir-fried vegetables. It's just easier to make stew or soup when traveling. You could say I'm responsible for cooking in our group, hehe."

The girl prattled on and on, asking questions, retelling several scenes from their dungeon dives without even giving him time to answer the questions. Not that he would've answered anyway.

Not even two hours after their departure and he sincerely wished to shoot her with an arrow. But his deathly glare was utterly ignored by Thira. Probably because she couldn't see it behind his blindfold.

Roric, who was even closer to the inane chatter, didn't say anything, stoically putting one foot in front of the other.

Even further ahead, he could see Lydia turn her head back forward and shivering slightly.

No wonder they said it was a temporary party. Who in their right mind would want to travel with this... this creature! I don't believe they have been together for as long as that girl says. They must've formed a party just a few days ago.

Around midday, the inane chatter let up a little, having to share that one mouth with dried fruits, bread and cheese.

Another hour later, fearing for his dinner if that girl was really the cook, he vanished into the trees, mumbling something about hunting. Since the chatter didn't stop, he suspected that the girl hadn't noticed his disappearance. Even if Roric had turned his head briefly for a nod. The man had good ears, to be able to hear a mumble while listening to that chatterbox!

Walking deep into the forest, sweet silence enveloped him. Taking a deep breath, he strung his bow and looked for tracks.

"You did notice that he left?" asked Roric after listening to Thira for a while longer.

"Huh?" she stopped talking to look around. "What? Where did he go?! Lydia, wait! We're missing someone! Crear is gone!"

Lydia stopped with a sigh. "What do you expect? You've been chattering for the whole day. You did notice that he doesn't like people, right? I swear, if you scared him away with your talking...!"

"But I didn't do anything," whined Thira.

"He said something about hunting," interrupted Roric. Both women stared at him. Roric shrugged. "I guess we will meet him somewhere ahead of here. You did say we would camp at the midway point. He has been to that dungeon several times. He surely knows the way. If we don't meet him this evening, then we'll meet him again at the dungeon entrance."

Lydia shook her head. "If he's not there, I'll make sure to give you living hell, Thira!"

Thira looked at her childhood friend with big eyes, not comprehending what she had done wrong. But Lydia turned forward again and resumed their trek along the road.

It was a much traveled route, thus the halfway point to the dungeon was a well-equipped campsite with a lean-to shed, dry wood and two fire pits. What greeted them was the sight of Crear cutting and gutting a small deer.

A little baffled, Lydia started a fire. Roric sat Thira down next to the fire with the cooking gear and went to set up their two tents. But he did keep an eye on the other man. He wasn't yet sure if he could trust this Crear.

And indeed, Crear only reluctantly parted with half of the deer, the remaining meat going onto skewers or being wrapped around with big leaves.

Their dinner was silent, Roric, Thira and Lydia eating the stew made by Thira, while Crear ate his skewers. After cleaning up, Crear volunteered to take the first watch, though Roric stayed up with him, watching as he buried the wrapped-around meat under the hot ash of the fire and then sat down against a tree trunk, his strung bow laying across his legs.

Crear watched Roric from his spot beneath a tree. The big man had opted to share the watch with him, on top of having to take the pre-dawn watch. The sorceress wouldn't be taking a watch, so the night would be divided by three people. The way this Roric kept watching him and how he refused to sleep made it obvious to Crear, that the man didn't trust him in the slightest. Good for him. But with the warning from the Guild Master still fresh in his ears, these three had little to fear from him.

He sat unmoving under his tree, listening to the rustling of nocturnal animals. An owl hooted somewhere, making the big guy snap his head about to search for the source of the sound. Which amused him greatly. Not that he showed it on his face.

His watch passed uneventful. By the end of it, the big guy started to doze off. He did wake Lydia up, before falling completely asleep.

Lydia briefly nodded towards Crear, before walking around the camp once and then settling down next to the small fire, eyes turned into the darkness of the forest. Her spear laid across her legs, ready for combat.

At least someone who knows how to keep proper watch. Checking the tension of his bow, he silently stood up and melted into the darkness, taking care of the necessities, before returning to his previous spot just as silently. Pulling his shawl a bit closer around his shoulders for warmth, he settled in for a light nap.

===

His eyes flew open in the predawn light. The rustling sounds he had vaguely heard throughout the night had suddenly stopped. Looking around the camp, he saw Roric slumped over his shield, probably sleeping. The fire had been reduced to nothing more than smoldering embers. Far away, he heard a faint hooting sound. No monster, then. Else even that owl would have fled. But what else had scared the animals into hiding?

The earth rumbled beneath him, the feeling soon carrying over to the air. Horses? This early?

Crear was on his feet and restringing his bow before the first rider came into sight. A kick sent Roric into the dirt with a loud clatter. Cursing, the man came to his feet, sword drawn.

"What's wrong?" the tired face of Lydia poked out of the tent.

"He kicked me!" growled Roric, pointing his sword at Crear.

"You fell asleep on your watch when we have company on the way," hissed Crear back, gesturing towards the road.

"Company?" asked Lydia, crawling out of the tent with her spear. "Who?"

"Dunno," shrugged Crear, just to rile up Roric. After a short pause, he cocked his head to listen and added: "Several horses, riding hard. They should be coming around that bend in a few minutes."

Lydia looked from the bend to Crear, then to the fuming Roric and back to the bend. The horses were now close enough for even untrained ears to hear them.

"Thank you for the warning," said Lydia. "Roric, get that fire going again, please. Make it look like we're preparing for the day, but keep your weapons close. Just in case." She crawled back into the tent, making a great deal out of rummaging about.

Grumbling, Roric went to the stack of dry wood. As he turned back to the fire with his load, Crear was gone. A shudder ran down the big man's spine as his eyes roved helplessly around the campsite.

Crear watched the uncomfortable Roric with amusement. How blind he was! He had barely made three steps to the side and the man was already unable to find him. Slowly stepping into the bushes, he watched as the thunderous hooves came around the bend in the road, bringing with them the jingling of reins and the clatter of plate armor.

Lydia came back out of the tent, pulling her leather breastplate into place as she looked at the riders. Her eyes widened. A soft hiss had Roric stare at them with equally wide eyes and an open mouth like a country bumpkin.

The riders stopped in the middle of the road, their leader moving his horse closer to the fire.

Removing his helmet, he stared down at Roric and Lydia with clear contempt in his eyes.

"Greetings, travelers. Are you on your way to the Silkhook Dungeon? If so, we must ask you to return to town. As of yesterday, the dungeon has been declared off limits for everyone who isn't from the Watervale Academy."

Crear gripped his bow tighter. Ten riders, three with plate armor, the rest in Apprentice robes. But they sure make noise for 20.

"But sire! We're but poor adventurers! We depend on the dungeon to make a living! How can we survive if we're not allowed to enter it?" pleaded Lydia instantly, big tears welling up in her eyes.

"That's your problem. If you so much as step a foot into the dungeon, we'll see you as aggressors and kill you. Be warned." With that, he put his helmet back on and turned his horse around, throwing dirt into their fire. "Onwards!"

They vanished just as fast as they had appeared, though the hooves of their horses could be heard for much longer.

Roric and Lydia waited until they could no longer hear the horses, before they started cursing.

"Canker lickin' gallow birds!" Roric kicked a piece of wood through the clearing in his anger.

"I can't believe they said that! That's your problem. Urgh! Moulting desert ram! Sodden rat with a rotting arse!"

"Guess we won't be going to that dungeon anytime soon?" Thira had pushed herself partway out of the tent, propping her upper body up with her arms. Lydia and Roric glared at her. "Come on, guys. It's not the first time those nobles what's-their-names have blocked a dungeon for their personal usage. By the way, where is Crear? Don't tell me he missed out on you two swearing? Or did he run away during the night? Did you two scare him off? And after we finally found a long-range fighter, too!" She stared at them in horror.

"Are we going back? Or should I murder them while we're in the dungeon?" asked Crear with actual interest, twirling his bow in his hands. It took them a moment before they caught the movement in the bush.

"That's where you've been the whole time? Right under our noses and you didn't say a word?!" screamed Roric.

"As tempting as your proposal sounds, we won't be killing them. That would give us a whole different slew of problems. No. We'll be returning. There are other dungeons around here. I just have to ask the Guild about them and see which are even accessible. Though you don't have to come. It was a temporary party for one dungeon," said Lydia with a sigh, putting a pacifying hand on Roric's shoulder.

"You said it. For one dungeon. Sadly it wasn't stated in the contract which dungeon, so the Guild Master will have my head if I pull out now. Much as I would love to," grumbled Crear.

"The Guild Master? What does he have to do with our party?" asked Lydia-

"Does that mean you'll accompany us for a while longer?" squealed Thira from the sidelines. "That's so awesome!"

Diffuse light started to break through the canopy.

"We should first eat breakfast and then return to the town. Afterwards we can start making new plans and preparations. Who knows what other dungeons in the vicinity they have reserved." A sigh went through the group at the prospects. "Roric, I'll help Thira. Can you prepare breakfast?"

Lydia vanished with Thira back into the tent, leaving Roric and Crear alone with the fire.

Roric pulled out the pot from the previous evening and filled it with water, brown grains and dried fruit. Alone.

Miffed he looked at Crear. "Can't you at least help a little? Like filling the water flasks, or cleaning up camp?"

"Why should I?" came the prompt retort.

"You're a part of this group, no? And we all used the same camp site!"

"My area is cleaned up, isn't it?"

"Why, youuu!"

"Calling me Crear is also fine. No need to make an effort, you know?"

His face red from anger, Roric stood up, grabbed his sword and took two stalking steps towards the infuriating man leisurely leaning against a tree.

"Your food is boiling over," pointed Crear out.

"Raargh!" The sword clattered to the ground as Roric hurried back to his pot, removing it from the fire and stirring its contents quickly to save it. "I hate you!"

That feeling is mutual. But at least you're more amusing than most of the previous parties, thought Crear.

"I'm happy that you two get along so well..." quipped Lydia from the side, putting Thira down next to the fire and going about stowing the tent.

"Right? I told you yesterday afternoon that he fits well into our group!" exclaimed Thira, taking over the pot from Roric so he could help with packing.

"No, you didn't! And he doesn't fit into our group!" roared Roric, shaking out a sleeping roll with more vigor than necessary before rolling it up.

"But he's the first person who listens to me without glaring at me or running away while screaming!"

"Could also be because of his blindfold and whatever the Guild Master said to him before we left town," mumbled Lydia, passing him by with some empty flasks, vanishing into the dim morning forest.

But Thira didn't hear it over the cursing that went with trying to fit a tent back into the same space after it had been folded in a different way.

Crear turned his head away. An amusing group. But they will act just like everyone else. Once they get in trouble in the dungeon, they will blame me. If they don't start screeching and giving me the evil eye when I dissect a monster.