“You are sure that this is the best you have?” Roger said while staring at the parchment he held out in front of him. “It is rather vague, a group of eight, seven of which are armed, guarding a noble who is heading east? Kill only the noble and rough up the rest. Payment is three thousand gold coins,” He broke away from staring at the writing to look towards the broker. Not his usual broker from what this one had said, she was sick, and they had stepped in.

Roger couldn’t even tell their race or if it was a man or woman. The voice kept changing pitch and inflection, hurting his ears. A mask covered their entire face, which didn’t muffle them at all. Their clothes were baggy and devoid of any ornamentation or apparent clues to their gender. “I am sure. They are offering quite the sum if you can complete this,” The broker replied, producing a rather substantial coin purse from seemingly nowhere.

“This is just the advance. Will that suffice as proof that the client can pay the full amount?” Roger was amazed and barely caught what the broker had said. He tentatively touched the pouch, half expecting it to vanish. “It sure will. Shit, this is too good to be true. What’s the catch?” Roger asked, causing the broker to cock their head in confusion.

“Catch?” they asked, clearly confused. “Yes, catch, like you find a cheap baker but find out the reason his bread is so cheap is he puts sawdust in the bread,” Roger slapped the parchment in his hands. “With this, if we do the job, will they be missed? Are they carrying something that will make us even more wanted than just killing a noble? What aren’t you telling me?” Roger had started leaning over the counter, pointing at the broker who stood unflinching as he got closer.

Roger had just enough time to realize his mistake as he saw the mask glow. “Shi….” was all he was able to say before he felt an invisible noose tighten on his throat. “There is no catch, Mr. Blackwood. Either you and your compatriots accept this, or I find others who are more willing.”

The broker leaned close to Roger, who struggled in vain at the tightening noose on his throat. “We accept,” he choked out with his remaining breath. When the noose didn’t immediately slacken, Roger thought he was sure he was going to die. The force disappeared. Roger dropped and hit the counter as the force had partially been holding him up. “Good, I am glad we saw eye to eye, Mr. Blackwood. You can take your money and leave. And don’t think of coming back until you have completed your assignment,” the broker said, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Roger stammered while rubbing his throat. Peeling himself from the counter, he snatched the money, parchment, and then turned towards the door. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Roger said while pushing open the door and muttering under his breath profusely, “Fucking prick of a mage.”

It didn’t take him long to get back to his crew. They were in their usual spot in the ‘Horse Trough’ inn. “Get in a bit of trouble with the lady Roger?” the burly Harrick asked loud enough for all six occupants who weren’t in his group to hear. His beard was full of foam from the beer he drank. “Nah, it ain’t loving marks from Yvonne ya prick. The stand-in broker, didn’t catch the name, was a fucking mage and didn’t want me close to them,” Roger replied, tossing the coins into the middle of the table. The coins knocked over the ale of the grouchy halfling Tyrin who promptly cursed as it spilled onto his lap.

“The fuck is this?” Roger’s sister in law, Veena, asked her hawkish face was moving from the bag to Roger. Admirably she held Tyrin back. Roger sat in an empty chair and kicked up his feet onto the table, and leaned back. “They said that is the advance on the payment. I wager it’s about a quarter of what we will get right there.” Roger said this to the completely stunned expressions of everyone at the table. “Holy shit Rog, what the fuck is the job if this is only a fuckin quarter?” Veena asked tentatively, grabbing the pouch and opening it. She let out a low whistle and passed it to Tyrin, who gawked at the contents. Harrick grabbed the purse from Tyrin, took one of the coins, and bit into it.

“Yeah, so far as I could tell, they are all real,” Roger tossed the parchment with the job to Veena, who caught it deftly. “Job is simple kill a noble and rough up but not kill the guards,” Roger said incredulously, “What’s the catch?” Veena and Tyrin asked at the same time while Harrick was still taking out coins and biting them. Roger shrugged his hands wide, “Apparently, there is none.” Veena stood rapidly, slamming her hands on the table, “That is bullshit, and you know it!”

Roger eyed her anger evident in his expression, “Don’t you think I know that already? Have you tried arguing with a mage when they have a fuckin noose around your god damned neck?” Veena sat down, seething, “Yeah, that is what I thought. Harrick, how many guys can you get?” Harrick stopped mid-bite and rubbed the coin on his chin. “Do you want them to be able to fight or just look tough?” Roger thought for a moment, “I want them to be able to fight. Since I think there is something that this broker wasn’t telling me.”

“Gotcha, I’m probably gonna need about a hundred of these to get about two dozen,” Harrick said while taking out a handful of coins at a time to count. “Any special requests?” Roger thought for a moment, and before he could reply, Veena cut him off. “How much for a mage of any kind?” Roger shut his mouth since that is what he was going to ask.

“Dunno never asked for one gonna take another seventy-five just in case,” Harrick said while taking out more and more coins. Roger looked to Tyrin. The little man hadn’t said anything, and he had a manic glee in his eye. Roger knew with just a glance at everyone else. He could kiss all of the gold they got up front goodbye.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You are sure they are coming up this road?” Veena asked Roger while sitting on a tree limb above him. “This is the only major road heading east from Fortwin. You would have to be dumb or brave to take any other way.” Roger replied, taking a bite of jerky.

“It’s been three days, Rog, three days! Two of them were dealing with that fucking storm that came from the mountains,” Roger eyed Tyrin, whose face had reddened with each word he spoke. “I ain’t a god. How was I supposed to know that freak storm would come barreling in?” Tyrin’s face twitched. Roger knew he was getting close to exploding, “At least we made some extra pay with that merchant group that took shelter with us. Speakin of which did the last of the bodies get dumped?”

The sudden question took Tyrin by surprise, “Yeah, opened them up, stuffed rocks in, and then threw them into the river. Why?” Roger pointed down the road where a rather large man was coming from. He rode a pony that looked like it was two sizes too small for him. “Because Harrick coming back means that our chickens are coming in to nest,” Roger finished speaking before letting out a shrill whistle. “Alright, places everyone, we don’t want to be scaring off our mark easily,” Roger took a few steps forward and stretched.

“Veena, how far out do you want them?” Roger asked as he bent down near the base of the tree to pick up his halberd. “Fifty meters or so,” She looked down at him and saw his eyebrow raised. “Only fifty? You usually go a hundred,” Roger stood looking at her, some of his weight going into the butt of the halberd buried in the dirt. Veena rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb back, “Blame the new blood and mage. They can’t hit anything past fifty to save their lives.”

Roger chuckled, put the halberd on his shoulder, turned on the spot, and walked towards the road. “Whatever you say, sis,” Roger knew she hated when he called her that and expected retaliation. The response was swift. An arrow went between his legs, and he swore he felt the fletching brush from back to the front near his groin. “Call me that again, and next time it goes in your ass!” Veena shouted at him.

Roger just raised his middle fingers at her. He got where he estimated fifty meters, planted the halberd, and leaned some weight against it. It took Harrick a few minutes to get to him at full gallop. “I am guessing that you spotted them?” Roger asked while eyeing the shaking horse, who seemed to struggle underneath Harrick. “Yeah, saw them just like the contract said eight horses, seven ‘heavily’ armed and the noble,” Roger frowned as Harrick finished. “Contract didn’t say they were heavily armed. What did you see?” Roger figured it would be best to adjust now rather than fly by the seat of their pants.

“Two blooded, a female red demon looking one, and the other one, a man, looked like what priests tell the kids angels look like,” Roger put his hands up to stop Harrick from continuing. “You mean he had wings?” Roger bit his lip. He knew this changed everything considerably. Roger looked back to Harrick, who was shaking his head. “No, he was very pretty looking but no wings,” Harrick stopped and looked at Roger for a moment.

“You can keep going, I know you probably think he is your type, but I doubt he is gonna want to do anything with you once you beat him half to death,” Roger and Harrick laughed for a moment before wiping away tears. They both heard the strained whiny from the horse, “And get off the damn horse. I think you are crushing it to death.” Harrick slid off the saddle, and Roger swore he saw the horse sigh in relief.

“Got a dwarf man, two halflings women that I swear are twins, two humans man and woman. The noble looks like he’s human and probably doesn’t get out much considering all the fancy shit he had on his horse.” Harrick scratched his chin while the horse tried to be stealthy and trot away. He caught the reins and held tight. “All of them wore pretty good looking armor, fully polished, no heraldry that I could see. An odd mishmash of weapons, the man and the blooded woman had swords and shields. The woman seemed to have a greatsword. The blooded man had a polearm bigger than yours, and seeing as he was as big as me, I wouldn’t want to tangle with him.”

Roger rolled his eyes, wishing Harrick would speak faster. “Dwarf had a giant crossbow about the size of his torso on him, a hammer and shield. Halflings, I wasn’t sure what they had since I didn’t see anything obvious on them.” Roger was moving his hands in a get on with it motion for a few seconds after Harrick finished before he realized there wasn’t anything else. “That's it? Really? Shit Harrick that isn’t a lot to go on, you know.” Harrick shrugged as Roger finished. “Best I could do without possibly tipping them off didn’t know if they had an OWL or something around them looking for trouble.”

Roger chewed on a thumb for a moment, “Alright, tell Veena I am gonna back up a bit so that it is easier for you guys to rush in. Just in case this goes tits up real quick, got it?” Harrick nodded, grinning. Roger knew he reveled in using the giant ax he had back with the others. Roger walked with Harrick back a bit. He guessed it was about ten meters now. “How much longer do you think?” He asked Harrick before stopping. Harrick shrugged, “Before midday?” Roger sighed. He hated waiting.

Roger only could guess how long he waited before he heard the sound of hooves on dirt. Standing, he took a quick drink from his waterskin and did one final stretch. Roger saw them now. The red-skinned Blooded woman was in front, and her posture showed she wasn’t happy. She was turned to one side and appeared to be talking to one of the halflings rather loudly. “I know it took you hours to get the ink off Mera, but that was yesterday. You can stop complaining now.” She said before her horse jerked its head somewhat violently to get her attention on the road.

Roger suppressed a shudder as he looked into her silver eyes. Something about her put him on edge. As they closed in about two meters from him, he put up his hand. “Woah there, friend gotta ask you to stop,” Roger said this calmly and slowly. The woman raised an eyebrow, “Who might you be?” Roger put his free hand on his chest, “My name is Roger Blackwood.” The halfling she had been talking to her spoke up, “Lis?” Roger watched her put up a hand, “My name is Lissa. What business do you have stopping us, friend?” her reply forced Roger to suppress another shudder. Something felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Roger was sorely tempted to signal Veena to send an arrow in front of Lissa’s horse but stopped the thought in its tracks. He didn’t want to tip them off too early now. “My business is with your sharply dressed friend there,” He pointed to what he figured was the noble, the man with the fancy gear on his horse. Lissa looked to the singled out member of their group, who just shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to know you, Roger. What is this business?” In response to her question, Roger only smirked, “Well, my friends and I need to have that one’s head.” Roger then signaled Veena by making a circular gesture with his hand above his head.

Had he been any closer, he would have heard the twang of the bowstring. Within what seemed like a heartbeat, an arrow landed right in front of Lissa and her horse. Roger expected Lissa to be shocked and the horse to flinch in some way. Neither of them did anything, and both looked at him coldly. Roger fought hard and won to keep his smirk. He thought maybe this wasn’t their first time, or they were just overconfident.

“Is that the best you have, Mr. Blackwood?” Lissa replied coldly, smoothly dismounting her horse. The smirk returned to Roger’s face then genuine, “No, it is not. I have more friends waiting for my signal to come out and play.” He put his hand above his head again, poised to make the gesture. “I also wouldn’t come any closer if I were you. You are liable to get hurt by my very skilled sister-in-law,” Roger said this and watched Lissa take a deep breath closing her eyes.

He knew what it was now with her taking that breath. She was gaining composure and coming up with the counter-offer. Roger relaxed somewhat. This was usually the step where the guards tried to bargain with only getting a light beating. To show that they at least tried to protect their charge. When Lissa opened her silver eyes again, they seemed to glow.

Roger saw her eyes look around. She then shook her head. “And here I thought we could keep things civil. You may as well bring them out, Mr. Blackwood,” Lissa’s words made the smirk drop from Roger’s face immediately. He was able to suppress another shudder and regained his confidence as he heard everyone break from their hiding spots. “Ma’am, you must be terrible at simple math. We have you outnumbered at least three to one. I would at least consider the offer I am about to give you,” Roger then gestured around at his group and then Lissa’s.

“You give us that,” He pointed again at who he thought the noble was, “Man right there, we do our business rough you up a little, so you can say you fought to protect him. And then both our groups part ways. You don’t lose face, and we get our job done without killing you all.” Roger had expected her to look around scared, hesitate before answering, go back to the group to confer, or something like that. What he didn’t expect was her to laugh in his face.

As the laughing continued, Roger only became more and more unnerved. He hadn’t even seen Lissa’s group take out their weapons. Roger knew the sweat streaking down his face right now wasn’t from the sun or heat. A cold fear now gripped his heart, and he fought to keep even a shred of his composure. Lissa finally got a hold of herself, and she wiped a tear away from her radiant silver eyes. She turned her head towards the ‘noble,’ “Micah, what is the penalty for threatening the life of a Royal Adjutant or Emissaries?”

Roger wanted to scream, to run, to do something other than stand their slack-jawed. He and the others around him knew the answer to her question. He, Tyrin, Harrick, Veena, the mercenaries, and two mages were all about to die.