Another sunny day. Another day on the Trade Way. Another day staring at the vast open grasslands that made up the Swordcoast. But today was different. Today, a forest the size of a city stood to the right of the road, just beyond the shallow embankment, its dark trees standing proud and tall against the blue backdrop of the sky.

Serena leaned her head against the backrest and rolled her eyes.

She was going insane.

“I know I keep asking this but –” Serena began to sign.

“Two more days.” Werond interrupted, her own eyes drooping. “Two more days. Pavel checked the maps this morning.”

“Thank the gods!”

Serena slid sideways in the bench and planted her feet in Werond’s lap; she hung her head off the side of the driver’s bench, bouncing in rhythm to the wagon’s movement.

“Uh, excuse me,” Werond said, laying her arms on top of Serena’s shins. “I’m trying to drive? You know, the most important job on this wagon?”

Serena stuck her hands up without looking at Werond. “We both know you just tell the horses to walk straight.”

“Shush! Don’t let the other teamsters know!”

Serena laughed and dropped her hands.

Pavel almost had a heart attack trying to get the wagons organized this morning; typically, the caravan was laid out as it was now, with the order being specific to Pavel’s preferences. Guard wagon – the Zultan’s old wagon – at the front, food wagon behind it, Bo’s old alcohol wagon behind that one, and every other wagon falling in as the teamsters wished. It always that order, and any disruption of that order seemed to irritate Pavel. Serena knew that it had something to do with his old military training, but she still felt as though he always overreacted, especially this morning, when Samardag requested his wagon be right behind the guard’s wagon. The pot seller had woken up in a conniption fit, spouting off ridiculous events that could occur now that they were closer to Waterdeep. It had taken Pavel all morning to talk him down, which caused the entire caravan to be behind schedule.

Serena left out a silent pfft; her vision blurred as the wagon hit a bump, causing her head to bounce and tap the wooden frame.

She quickly sat up and ignored Werond’s laughter.

There wasn’t anything for Samardag to be afraid of. Afterall, Daggerford and the time before that remained the only incidents on the entire journey, something that befuddled the guards to no end. Caravans were typically harassed much more frequently, and a trip such as theirs was unheard of. Perhaps the Trade Way was just empty this time of year. Serena didn’t really care, so long as there wasn’t any fighting. Though each day did seem to drag on.

“Hey,” Werond said, as Serena rubbed her head. “any idea what your little group’s plans are, once we get to the city?”

“Pretty sure it’ll be more investigating everything. I bet Pavel’s going to want to contact our employers at least once.” Serena replied.

“You keep mentioning them, but I don’t think you ever said who you all were working for. Is it the Harpers?”

Serena shot a look towards Werond. “How’d you know?”

“Honestly, boss, everyone decent these days works for the Harpers. They’re not really subtle about it, even when they try to be.” Werond waved at one of the guards walking towards the back of the caravan. “Anyways, you all have a place to stay? Figured that out yet?”

“I haven’t heard anything, no. Why?”

“Just had the thought, my house is decently sized. Got a couple of bedrooms I don’t use. You all would be welcome to stay, long as you need to. Gets a little bit lonely there anyways.”

“You have a house with more than one bedroom? That sounds like you’re rich!”

Werond laughed. “You’ve got a strange measure for that. No, I’m not rich, just know how to save my wages.”

“Well, I’m sure Pavel and the others would take you up on that. I know I will.”

“Great, we’ll have to ask tonight. Plus, there’s a place I want to take all of you. Little hole in the wall establishment. My treat, for getting me back safely. I’m ah,” She winked at Serena. “sure you’ll like it.”

Heat rushed to Serena’s face.

As she began to sign back, to ask what Werond meant, their wagon jerked to a stop.

The horses halted some steps behind Cruck’aa’s wagon, the beasts suddenly stomping their hooves and shaking their heads. Eyes wide, they flicked from side to side, as though they were looking for something.

“The hell?” Werond said, leaning forward. “Hey! What’s the matter with you guys? What’s spooking you?” She asked, looking around.

Cruck’aa’s wagon wasn’t moving from its spot, which meant that the entire caravan must have stopped, or at least, part of it. And from the sounds of it, Cruck’aa’s horses were just as spooked as theirs.

Serena leaned out from the bench, looking around his wagon.

The entire caravan had indeed stopped, owners and teamsters poking their heads out, mumbling and angrily questioning what was going on. Among them, Larion had hopped off his wagon and was already stalking towards the front.

Each wagon’s horses were just as spooked as theirs, heads flipping wildly. Some pulled at their harnesses, trying to move to the left of the road, down the embankment towards the grass fields.

Serena squinted. She could barely make out one of the guards, halted in front of the lead wagon, gesturing wildly towards the forest. No doubt he was talking to Pavel.

“Gods, what is the matter with you guys?” Werond asked, hopping off the wagon to soothe the horses. “Boss, you see what’s going on?”

“Not…really.” Serena signed. “One of the guards is yelling about something though. I don’t –”

Serena’s ears pricked.

A low rumbling, like thunder, began to roll out from the trees.

The guard at the front of the caravan ripped his sword out, yelling something.

Owners and teamsters alike began to point towards the trees, looking around wildly.

Behind Serena, the few guards that remained at the back began to urge their horses towards the front.

Her eyes went wide.

Flooding out from the trees came a wave of green.

Orcs atop huge bipedal birds, beaks the shape of axes, came flooding out from the trees; bristling with arms and armor, they filled the air with war cries that set Serena’s teeth on edge. There were too many to count.

The bellowing wave smashed into the wagons at the front.

The guard and his horse were trampled as the guard wagon was shoved onto its side, wood splintering, as the birds smashed into it with their beaks. The food wagon behind it met the same fate.

A wave of screams ripped through the caravan.

The guards near the back, horrifically outnumbered, raced towards the front without a second thought.

As they did, some of the orcs began to cut down those who’d begun to crawl out of the now ruined wagons, while the rest began to form a moving circle around the front of the caravan.

In front of her, Cruck’aa jumped out of his wagon, and flew into the air.

Serena’s heart smashed into her chest; there were too many, too many orcs, they were outnumbered.

Behind her, teamsters and owners continued began to panic; some remained froze on the wagons, others jumped off, head snapping from the grass to the front, unsure what to do.

Serena leapt off the wagon. “Stay here!” She yelled at Werond, who remained froze. “Hide in the wagon, just stay back!”

She could barely take a step forwards when a horse came skidding to a halt in front of her, Jo on its back. A bow was in one hand, the other fighting the reins to keep her horse steady.

“Jo!” Serena signed. “Let me on, we need to –”

“Something’s not right!” Jo cut her off. “Something’s off, that’s too organized, don’t go to the front yet!”

“What?! Jo people are dying! We need to –”

A roar, loud as a dragon, echoed from the trees.

Serena cringed, covered her ears, and flipped around.

Standing taller than the trees it emerged from, a tanned giant, his face dull and without intelligence, came crashing through the trees towards the caravan.

Jo grabbed Serena’s collar, pulling her back as her horse retreated.

The muscles in the giant’s arms rippled as he swung a club the size of a tree into Serena’s wagon.

It launched into the air, horses screaming in panic, arching off the road and onto the grass.

Her heart stopped.

Serena watched in horror as the wagon exploded into fragments, wood and wheels flying everywhere, horses dying instantly as their backs shattered.

Jo’s horse reared up and screamed.

Howls of terror from the back of the caravan grew.

The giant bellowed again and marched towards Cruck’aa’s wagon; with a single strike, he flung the wagon in the same direction as hers. Birds of all kind shot out from it, flying high into the sky.

The owner of the wagon, still inside, was sent cartwheeling out with them, reaching the same height.

Something moved on the embankment, cowering.

Serena dashed towards it, directly behind the giant, as Jo began to shout.

Werond lay on her stomach, shaking, as she watched the giant bellow again; her wide eyes shifted to Serena, as she slid to a halt next to her.

“Gods! You okay!?” Serena signed.

“N-no! What the fuck –” Werond stammered. Serena grabbed her and began to drag Werond away from the road.

“Hide!” She signed with one hand. “Wagon! Stay!”

Werond blinked and shoved herself up; she froze as she watched the giant turn around towards the other wagons.

Serena shoved her towards the remains of their wagon. “Go!”

Werond tripped and tumbled down the embankment. She shot up at the bottom, and Serena watched her go, turning back when Werond dived into the destroyed wagon.

Jo had hopped off her horse, sending the beast running, and began firing arrows at the brute, moving away from the back of the caravan.

The giant ignored her, arrows sticking harmlessly from its flesh, and turned towards the next wagon, Lasfelro’s.

As it raised its club over its head, something grey streaked out from the wagon, smashing into the giant’s head with a sickening crack.

It screamed as what looked like a grey hobgoblin, the size of a horse, began clawing at its face.

Jemna hopped out the wagon after it and threw a small jar at Jo. Serena couldn’t hear her over the screaming.

Jo stopped, and ripped open whatever Jemna gave her, and began dipping arrows into the container.

Serena froze, heart still smashing into her chest, unsure of what to do.

Another roar sounded from the trees.

More orcs came sprinting out of the woods, rushing towards the back of the caravan, to the teamsters and owner who stood gaping.

The orcs savagely cut them down, burying axes and swords into stomachs and necks alike, splattering gore across the road.

The iron stench of blood began to fill the air.

They moved to the next, and flipped the wagon over; the owner, an elven woman, tumbled out, the only one in the wagon.

Without pause, an orc buried an axe into her back; he laughed as she jerked once, then lay still.

Dread burned away in Serena’s chest, replaced by a fire that ignited every inch of her.

Gritting her teeth, she curled her fingers.

A small orb of flame sprang into her hand, and with a grunt, Serena flung it.

It streaked loudly, and impacted one of the orcs, who had pointed towards Lasfelro’s wagon.

He ignited into a maelstrom of flames, incinerating him and the wagon next to him.

The explosion spread out and licked the orcs around him. They screamed, flailing wildly as the fires engulfed them, igniting the grass underfoot.

Serena swore; she’d only taken out half.

The rest of the orcs, a handful, stared in horror at their burning companions; one flipped towards Serena, pointed, and bellowed a challenge.

They began to advance towards her. Serena glanced down the road.

Jo and Jemna danced around the giant, firing arrows, as it continued to grapple with the stone creature on his face.

All the other guards had already run off.

She was by herself.

Serena sucked in a breath and focused on the flame that burned within her chest.

Flames exploded from her arms, biting the air like a snapping dog, and traveled into her hands.

With a flick, they grew brighter, hotter, as Serena held them up.

The orcs faltered.

Her fingers twisted into signs, the hellfire launching from them as she spat.

“Burn in hell!”

…

With a grunt, Pavel shoved himself to his knees, body aching, as the din of carnage sounded around him. He reached down and grabbed his sword off the ground, before straightening up.

He stood in the wreckage of the guard wagon; the guard who’d tried to warn him lay trampled at his feet, skull caved in.

Pavel staggered around to face the caravan.

And swore.

The third wagon had already been destroyed, dead teamsters scattered among the mutilated cooks; now, the orcs urged their birds around in a massive shifting circle, surrounding what remained of the front part of the caravan, firing arrows at any who still stood.

Pavel ducked as they sailed overhead. The only cover that remained were the two wagons that still stood.

Torno, the thin guard, along with Samardag’s teamster, stood next to them; they screamed at the fat man, who death gripped the side of his wagon. Behind them, another wagon still stood, pocketed with arrows, but with no one in sight.

Pavel raced towards the group.

Samardag refused to move, ugly tears pouring down his face, as Torno and his teamster continued to scream at him.

“No!” Samardag screamed shrilly; he had soiled himself. “No! The arrows! The arrows!”

“You fat fucking oaf!” His teamster bellowed. “Move! Let go the damn –”

A volley of arrows fell.

One pierced the teamster’s throat, another his head, more smashing into the wagon.

Samardag screamed.

The gurgling teamster fell into Torno, who shoved him off.

Her eyes lit up as Pavel stepped around his body.

“Oh, thank the gods!” She yelled over the orc’s cries. “Thought you were dead!” She ducked behind her shield as an arrow impacted stuck in it.

“What’s happening?!” Pavel yelled, ducking another.

“Surrounded! Won’t move in, picking everyone off, need to get under the wagon!”

“No!” Samardag screamed. “The arrows, the arrows –”

A roar from the trees caused Pavel and Torno to flinch and cover their ears.

Samardag screamed louder.

A giant, spanning almost a story, came clambering out of the forest, tree trunk gripped in his hands.

He smashed through the circling orcs, sending some flying, and swung the trunk.

“Down!” Screamed Pavel; he and Torno leapt into the dirt.

Samardag’s scream cut off as the trunk impacted against him.

He and his wagon were ripped in half; pots, coin, guts, and blood flew through the air like a rain shower, painting the road and grass in splatters of red and brown.

The giant bellowed, raising the trunk over his head in a perverted victory dance.

“Fuck!” Torno screamed as they shoved themselves up. “What the fuck –”

The now broken circle split, as some orcs retreated up the road, towards the middle of the caravan. Seven orcs stayed behind, urging their mounts towards them.

“Focus the orcs!” Pavel spat.

“And you?!”

“I’ve got him!” He said, pointing at the giant.

The giant bellowed and swung his trunk, just as the orcs caught up to them.

Pavel and Torno leapt and rolled as the trunk came down, meeting the charging orcs.

Two of them were crushed with a sickening crunch, the screams of their mounts cut off, as their bodies were flattened into the ground.

The orcs screamed and broke off, scattering. The giant whimpered and peered at the flattened bodies.

Pavel shoved himself up, unable to keep his body from shaking.

He screamed a challenge and rushed at the giant. Torno screamed and dashed towards the nearest orc.

The giant stood up, and as it did, Pavel dashed under its legs, and slashed behind its heel.

His arm went numb as he lost his grip, sword lodged into the giant’s skin.

It roared and swiped behind with an empty hand.

Pavel jumped back, almost losing balance, as it barely missed.

He rushed back in towards his sword, as the giant staggered around; without pause, Pavel gripped the blade and yanked it out without breaking stride.

The giant screamed, blood spraying out from the wound; he crashed down on a knee, his leg giving out, trunk slipping from its grasp.

Pavel flipped around and charged again.

The giant bellowed and swung his hand at the last minute.

Pain ignited through him, and with a crack, Pavel flew back, armor coming off in pieces.

He smashed into the remains of the guard wagon, sending debris flying.

Pavel could barely breath, eyes transfixed on the blue sky above; each gasp sent sharp pain piercing through his chest.

Without the pain, he was sure to have passed out.

Pavel forced in a breath, more pain lancing through him; somehow, he’d held onto his sword.

He shoved it into the ground, and pulled himself up, staggering to his feet. Blood trickled from his chest.

The giant remained on one knee, whimpering pathetically. Somewhat beyond it, Torno still stood.

Her shield was dented, sword bloody, cuts across her face, but three orcs and two birds lay dead at her feet.

The remaining orcs, still on their mounts, circled her, neither one making a move, as Torno taunted them, smashing her sword against her shield.

From the slump in her stance, she was on her last leg.

Pavel swore, staggered forward, and collapsed on a knee.

The sounds of chaos drifted on the wind, filling his ears with death.

He hadn’t a clue how the other sections of the caravan were doing or if they were even still alive.

How many had died under his watch already? Where had they come from? Why had they attacked now?

Torno screamed; an orc landed a lucky slash across her arm, leaning out of the way of a follow up slash.

She staggered backwards, shield raised, as the orcs dismounted and advanced on her.

Pavel ground his teeth.

He shoved himself up, let loose a scream, and charged the giant once more.

It bellowed back and swung an empty hand.

Pavel skirted around it and rushed towards the giants now sloped back.

With a yell, he jumped and stuck his sword into the giant’s back. It screamed as the blade sunk into its thick skin.

He reached up and grabbed the giant’s thick back hair with his freehand, shimmying the blade back out.

The giant swung his hands around his back, unable to reach him as Pavel pulled himself up, and onto its shoulder blades.

He ducked under an open hand; Pavel stepped forward, yelled, and plunged his sword into the top of the giant’s neck.

The blade sunk halfway, before it snapped in half.

The giant screamed, voice shaking the trees.

“What the fuck?!” Pavel screamed.

He failed to duck again as the giant grabbed him.

Pavel screamed as his ribs cracked loudly.

The giant, fury in its eyes, held Pavel up to his face; its hot breath smashed into him, chocking him with a moist, foul smelling air.

It opened its mouth and pulled Pavel towards it.

“Fuck you!” He screamed and kicked up.

His boot collided with the giant’s eye; it screamed again and dropped Pavel.

The air was knocked out from him as he dropped almost a story to the ground, his ribs audibly cracking again.

There was no air in his lungs for Pavel to scream.

He sucked in a breath, and barely pushed himself up with his broken sword.

Pavel flipped his head around; Torno was gone, in her place, two dead orcs.

“Torno.” He wheezed, sucking in gulps of air.

The giant released his face and roared, almost knocking Pavel over. It began to drag itself towards him.

“Torno!” He screamed, lungs filling.

Torno popped up on top of the giant’s head.

Her eyes were wild, and blood coated one side of her face.

“My sword!” Pavel yelled.

The giant stared at him, confused, before raising a hand over his head, to finish Pavel off.

Torno flipped her blade sideways, and with a throaty yell, smashed the flat of it against Pavel’s sword.

The giant jerked, its eyes glazing over.

It wobbled, then began to fall onto its side.

Torno leapt off towards Pavel, just as it impacted the ground with a resounding crash.

It lay still.

Pavel staggered over to Torno, now collapsed on the road. Panting, she waved Pavel’s help away.

“Go!” she gasped. “Rest…needs help, I’ll…catch up.” She pressed her bloodied sword into Pavel’s hands as he bent down to help her. “Take…it.”

Pavel froze as Torno fell onto her side, still gasping. He reached back down to her.

Another bellow came from the middle of the caravan, sending more screams on the wind.

“Go!” Torno yelled.

Pavel swore, but turned on his heel, and took off.

…

Cruck’aa was conflicted.

He held himself up in the sky, wings flapping lazily, as he watched a legion of multicolored birds soar their way into the air. They flew in all directions, chattering happily, finally free of the cages that bound them for so long. Some continued towards the forest, while others flew down the road, sensing that civilization was near. Still, others flew back the way the caravan had come, seeking more calmer winds.

Cruck’aa was happy that they were finally released from their prisons. Yet part of him ached for the birds that weren’t as lucky, unable to escape as the wagon careened through the air.

He glanced down and remembered where he was.

Where the orcs and giants came from, Cruck’aa hadn’t a clue. Yes, they came from the trees, but why they had chosen to attack now, he did not know.

The middle of the caravan was hit the hardest; two tree armed Hill Giants, as Cruck’aa knew them, along with a large force of orcs atop of Axe-Beaks, had smashed into the side, taking many by surprise. Luckily, most of the caravan guards had intercepted them, on their way towards the front. Bolstered by Larion’s guards, they were ready for the orcs, though not ready fast enough to save Larion’s wagons.

The giants had crushed two before anyone could respond. The resulting explosion of gold and gems and weapons and rugs had stunned the orcs and giants long enough for the guards to push and an offensive.

And now, the road ran red with blood and gore.

Cruck’aa raised his hands up towards the sky, waved them in circles, and mumbled.

Slowly, in time with his movement, dark clouds began to form over him, cumulating into a large, angry looking mass.

They crackled with lightning.

Cruck’aa didn’t have to kill the giants. Just drive them away.

The fighters were split in half, one side fighting one giant, and the other side fighting another. Orcs intermingled between them slashing at whoever they could reach. Off to the side, Azbara stood calmly, hurling spell after spell at one of the giants, the only effect being to distract it from the guards that swarmed its legs.

Cruck’aa mumbled to himself. He knew there was more to the man.

He directed the lighting towards the other giant, before folding his winds, and diving towards the one Azbara fought.

To his left, the lightning arced down and smashed into the giant.

It howled in pain as the sound of sizzling flesh mixed with screams and clashing steel.

Cruck’aa curled in on himself and willed up a memory.

As he fell, his feathers shifted and fused, his body becoming thicker, arms and legs shorter, hairier, face twisting, jaw extending, teeth lengthening.

With a roar, Cruck’aa smashed into the giant’s head in the form of a bear and began to tear away chunks of flesh.

The giant howled in pain and reached up to grab Cruck’aa.

Lightning cracked again, sending out another scream.

Cruck’aa looked up and bit into the giant’s fingers, ripping one off.

Blood sprayed through the air as the giant screamed again, this time in fear.

He began to swing his tree trunk around in panic, aiming at nothing, as Cruck’aa continued clawing.

Chunks of flesh came out from under his claws, blood pouring down the giant’s head like a waterfall.

The giant continued to scream, trampling orcs and guards alike.

Still flailing, his tree trunk collided with the back of the other giant’s head.

With a sickening crunch, the second giant toppled to the ground.

Cruck’aa grin as the guards leapt on its still form and began sawing at its throat. Blood gushed out, covering them almost completely, making the ground slick.

He refocused his efforts, digging deeper into the giant’s head, blood gushing over him.

His claws struck bone, scratching with a horrible noise.

The giant screamed one last shrill scream, before dropping its trunk.

It turned and dashed towards the trees, arms flailing.

Cruck’aa leapt from it and landed heavily on the road, almost slipping.

He let loose a laugh, or what passed as one, as the giant trampled through the trees, smashing into them blindly.

An explosion rocketed behind him, filling the air with screams and of muscle tearing from bone.

Cruck’aa turned around; a large group of orcs and Axe-Beaks were still locked in combat with Azbara and the guards.

Before he could move, someone came up the road.

Cruck’aa flipped towards him and reared up on his back legs.

It was Pavel.

His half plate was cracked, various parts coming off. Blood coated his arms and chest, and his eyes seemed to hold an almost demonic fire in them.

They stared at one another, both huffing.

Pavel nodded once towards Cruck’aa, still standing, before he turned towards the orcs.

He raised his bloody sword over his head, let loose a primal scream, and charged into the fray.

Cruck’aa dropped down, and sprinted after him, eager for orc blood.

…

After what felt like hours, the sounds of carnage and death began to die down, until only silence filled the air.

Werond had crawled into the back of their wagon, it’s frame partially intact. Refusing to look at the horses that lay broken outside, she had grabbed the silks and curled up within, laying on what used to be the wall of the wagon, hiding amongst the fabric like a child in a timeout.

Her heart slammed against her chest; each scream, each explosion, every sound kept it on edge. Even now, with silence filling the air, it refused to calm.

Werond tightened the sheets over her; sweat had begun to bead on her back, so well did the silks trap her heat.

She wished she could do something, aside from stand and gawk. Jo and Pavel could fight, Cruck’aa could do whatever he did, Serena could manifest fire from her own thoughts. What could she do? Cower in a wagon. Hope to the gods that her side would come out on top.

It would. She knew it would. It had to.

“Gods…” Werond groaned.

She wanted to shove herself out of the silks, jump out the wagon, and breath a sigh of relief. She wanted everything to be fine, Serena and everyone else heroically saving the caravan. She wanted everything left just as it was. And she would only know if she checked.

But she couldn’t.

The dread of what might have happened weighed her down; Werond’s limbs refused to cooperate, so great was that fear.

Her breathing quickened, coming out in short gasps.

Werond’s mind seemed to race on its own, conjuring up thought after thought of everything that could have gone wrong. Images of her friends, bloody and broken, filled her mind, paralyzing her. She tried to push them away, and failed, the thoughts amplifying within her mind.

Werond gasped and forced her hands under her. Sweat fell from her face as her arms struggled to support her.

She had to get out. She had to run. She had to do something. If she didn’t, she’d suffocate, Werond was sure of it.

She wiped the sweat from her face, almost collapsing back into the silks.

With a grunt, Werond pulled her legs under her, and tried to push up, a challenge in the sideways wagon.

Her body refused to listen; legs sore, Werond sat hunched over on her heels, struggling to breath.

She was going to suffocate. Choke to death on cheap silks, in the back of a destroyed wagon.

Anger at the thought flooded through her chest. She focused on it, finally shoving away the thoughts of broken friends.

With a grunt of effort, Werond reached up, body tight, and grabbed part of the ruined frame.

She grunted again and tried to pull herself up.

Her strength gave out halfway, and she collapsed back in the silks.

Werond swore. Tears poured down her face.

Why was she a coward, why was she so determined to die in the back of a –

A knock sounded from the wooden frame.

Werond jerked, heart in her throat, and fell onto her back, tangling the sheets.

“Who’s there?!” She yelled, voice quavering.

The knock sounded again, this time closer, coming from the hole that Werond had climbed through.

Someone climbed in.

“Stop!” She yelled. “Don’t get closer, please!”

Hands suddenly gripped the sheets over Werond; they yanked at the silks, trying to untangle and rip them off her.

Werond screamed, and began thrashing, kicking at her assailant as she tried to rip the silks off herself.

Her boot connected with flesh; the assailant released the silks and tumbled back out the wagon.

Werond let out a yell and ripped the last of the silks off her.

Gripping the broken frame, she hauled herself up, and crawled out of the wagon, ready to dash towards the road.

She yelled.

Serena lay on the ground; her hands were cupped over her face, and she writhed in the grass.

“Serena?!” Werond screamed, dropping on top of her. “Oh gods, I didn’t know – you didn’t say – fuck!” Shame washed over her at the realization; who else would have known that she was in the wagon? “Gods, Serena, I’m so, so sorry, let me see, please!”

Werond grabbed Serena’s wrists, and pulled her hands away.

Serena’s eyes were glassy, blood trickled from her nose; her hair was a mess, out of its usual ponytail, her tunic was torn in several places, dirt was rubbed against her face, but aside from all that, Serena seemed fine.

“Oh, thank god!” Werond breathed, releasing Serena’s wrists. “Oh, thank the gods –”

“You kicked me!” Serena signed indignantly.

“I know! I know, gods, I didn’t know who it was –”

“I knocked! No one else knew where you were!”

“I know, I…” The tears flowed before Werond could stop them. “Gods, I was so scared.”

Serena’s anger melted away, and her eyes wide.

“Did something happen?” She signed.

Werond exploded.

“Did something?!” She screamed, grabbing Serena’s face. “I couldn’t do anything! I had to listen to everything and try not to piss myself Serena! Gods, all I could do was pray for you and Pavel and Cruck’aa and – and – and,” Werond shuddered. “I’ve never been in something like that before! What was I supposed to do but panic?!”

Serena stared wide eyed at Werond, hands against her chest.

Werond released her face and slide off her, body shaking.

“Gods, I’m screaming about me and your nose is bleeding, let me get a thing of silk –”

Serena waved a hand as she sat up; her fingers jerked, light flashed from them, and the blood disappeared.

Werond’s shoulders slumped.

“I can’t even fix my mistakes.” She said.

Heat flooded into her face.

Werond swore and clapped a hand over her mouth, shaking her head; she waved a hand as Serena began to sign in panic.

“Don’t, that wasn’t fair of me, I…” She sucked in a shaky breath. “I’m not myself right now, sorry Serena.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s okay!” Serena waved her off. “Really. But…gods, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about all that, I…are you going to be okay?”

No – was the answer that Werond wanted to say. Not after all that. But something in Serena’s eyes told her that she couldn’t say that.

Werond sucked in another breath and wiped the tears away.

“I…don’t know. I don’t. Are…is the rest of the caravan alright?”

Serena’s eyes suddenly hardened. She shook her head.

“There’s barely anyone left. Pavel, Jo, and Cruck’aa made it but…not many others did.” Serena shoved herself up and offered a hand to Werond. “Come on, we need to get back to them.”

A weight settled into Werond’s chest.

Her mouth hung open, but as she began to speak, Serena shook her head. She reached down and grabbed Werond’s arm, pulling her up.

Without speaking, and without letting go, Serena began leading her back towards the embankment.

Werond had focused so much on Serena that she didn’t see the other wagons that lay wrecked on the grass.

The shattered remains of Cruck’aa’s wagon lay to the left, the frame split down the middle. Some ways away lay the equally shattered body of Cruck’aa’s employer; he lay face up, eyes glazed over, arms at odd angles, his lower body twisted so much that he looked like a broken doll.

Bile rose in the back of Werond’s throat, and she looked away. He didn’t deserve that.

As they climbed the embankment, her breath caught in her throat.

There was only one wagon left sitting in the middle of the road, the end wagon of the caravan. Run by a posh elf known as Lai, he and his teamsters lay cut down next to the wheels, gashes in their backs still bleeding onto the road. In front of them lay the burned shell of another wagon, around which laid the charred remains of multiple orcs, all in various stages of incineration, all curled up like dead bugs. The smell of their cooked flesh, not unsimilar to sizzling bacon, caused Werond to vomit off the side of the road.

As Serena held her hair back, Werond glanced away; where their wagon had sat now lay the form of the giant that had caused the carnage. Most of its body was devoid of wounds, save for the numerous gashes that covered its head, as though something had removed chunks of its skin with a jagged blade. Multiple arrows stuck out of its head, and Jemna, who sat on the giant’s thick neck, meticulously pulled each one out, taking care not to snap them. Below her stood Jo, staring at –

“What the fuck?” Werond asked between dry heaves.

A stone statue the size of a horse, depicting a winged hobgoblin lost in thought, sat in the middle of the road. Lasfelro leaned against it, smiling as Jo walked around it, studying it from every angle.

“I don’t know.” Serena signed. “But it flew out and helped kill that thing, so I’ll take it.”

Werond wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and straightened up, wobbling slightly. Serena grabbed her, face twisted in worry.

“Well, lets go find out, huh?” She said, forcing a smile. Serena nodded, and they continued down the road.

“…worth a pretty coin!” Jemna said shrilly, as they walked within earshot. “Ole Lassie here has had it in his wagon the whole trip! Security reasons, of course. And he was moaning a couple of night ago that he wouldn’t be able to use it!”

“Yeah…I can see why you’d be upset.” Jo said, peering at the petrified face. “Thing did a number on fatty over here.”

“That it did!” Jemna’s head snapped towards them, as they stopped just short of the statue. “Well, look who showed up!” She pointed a still bloody arrow at Werond. “I saw ya run with ya tail between ya legs when everything popped up! Kinda chickenshit if you ask me!”

More shame flooded into Werond’s chest, and she looked away.

“Jemna,” Serena signed. “lay off. No one asked for your opinion.”

“Well, I’m going to give it –”

“Jemna! Shut up!”

“Oh, did I touch –”

Jemna squealed as a bolt of fire impacted the giant’s skin, just under where she was sitting. She fell off the back of the giant, and out of sight, landing with an audible THUD behind it.

Jo laughed. Lasfelro only smiled.

“Bitch.” Serena mumbled, before turning towards Werond. “Sorry. Not going to listen to that.”

“It’s uh…fine. We’re…” her chest tightened again. “you said Pavel and Cruck’aa made it?”

“Yup,” Jo spoke up. “They and some others made it.” She jerked a thumb at the hulking body that lay in the middle of the road. “Can’t really see anything until you walk around this thing. But unfortunately, besides them, no one else made it.”

“No one?”

Jo nodded. “I think we have three? Four wagons left? Maybe a little over ten people. Down from…I don’t know, forty-five we had before? That right?” She asked Lasfelro, who only shrugged.

Beside her, Serena ran her hands over her face, shoulders suddenly slumping.

Werond turned towards her, shame returning; she had been so preoccupied with what could have happened, she’d forgotten to check on Serena.

“Hey…are you okay?” she asked.

Serena kept her face buried. Before Werond could ask again, she dropped them.

She looked as though she hadn’t slept in days.

“I’m fine. Right now, I guess. I feel…numb. I think.” She sighed. “I feel like I should be more broken up about everything. But I’m not.”

“Don’t dig yourself into that hole.” Jo said, walking over to Serena. “Not saying don’t mourn, but don’t do it now. We’ve still got problems; you need to be fresh.”

“What?” Werond asked. “What else do we need to do?”

Jo shot a look at Lasfelro; the man shrugged, pushed off the statue, and walked around the back of the giant’s body, out of sight.

Jo turned back towards them.

“Larion’s wagons got hit. Well, two of them did. There’s a ton of gold and other wealth scattered across the road back there.” Jo jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “Unfortunately, Azbara and Larion both made it. And now that the cats out of the bag…well, if they’re smart, they’ll make something happen.” She held her hands up as Werond began to speak. “Wait, just listen. We,” she gestured at Serena. “just got done talking to Jemna. We’re going to take her, and Lasfelro, up on their off for help. But Serena needs to help; I only saw a little, but Azbara was flinging spells earlier. We need Serena to counter all that, if she can, so we decided that Lasfelro will keep you protected, if Serena came back with you…which she did. I saw him stab an orc, he knows what he’s doing. You’ll be safe, okay?”

Werond stared, unable to speak.

“I don’t think just dumping all that on her, after all this,” Serena gestured around her. “really helped anything Jo.”

“No, but this is going to explode here pretty fast, and she needs to be aware. You good Werond?”

Werond continued to stare; what was she supposed to say to all that?

“I…I guess.” She decided.

“Good. Let’s go then.”

Jo turned and followed in Lasfelro’s footsteps, disappearing around the dead giant.

As she did, Werond turned towards Serena.

“What the fuck?” was all she could say.

Serena shook her head.

“I hate it too. Come on, we need to get going.”

She took a step forward, then stopped. Serena turned back towards Werond.

“I know what she said, about Lasfelro and being safe. But if something happens…I’m running or teleporting back to you. I said I’ll keep you safe, and I plan on keeping that promise, okay? So, whatever happens…don’t panic. I’ve got it.” She paused. “I think.”

Despite everything, Werond cracked a smile.

“I was with you till the end there.”

Serena smiled back and gestured for her to follow.