The viridescence of summer soon faded, white slowly crept across the shores of Narwell. In turn, the port city raised its own colors of orange-gold light, bathing the sprawl in a shimmering sea of sparkles.

Winter was the slowest season for the city's residents and its port, as it was for the majority of the continent, with few exceptions. What few ships remained moored to their berths at Narwell, the others having left for warmer shores father south to continue their trade, were now blockaded with sheets of sea-ice. With no alternative, their captains were forced to let their land-locked crews enjoy the cold months in the hospitality offered at the city's taverns, possible only through their deepened pockets from yet another profitable year.

Soon after, the city's frosty sheen gave way to the warmth of Spring, lifting the drowsy stupor from the city. No time was wasted in restoring its vigor. In the second week of the season, an exceptionally busy time when very little of the main road was visible for shuffling throngs, carts, and carriages, Narwell reached its peak once more.

It was in this crowded thoroughfare that Zane and his wife pressed through. Bodies crushed in on all sides, slowing their pace to a haphazard crawl.

Milina stopped, pulling back on Zane's hand, "Hah... it's a bit hard to breathe."

Zane tightened his grip, "Just a little more, don't stop or we'll never get through... careful, don't drop Telsi!"

The infant in question raised an indignant squeal at her mother's handling. It was a rather precarious arrangement, considering Milina had the use of only one hand to support her charge, while the other was held by her husband. She would be lost to the masses otherwise, yet it was nonetheless daunting to maintain a firm hold on little Telsi.

"There there, don't worry, mommy's not going to let you go."

Straining his eyes, Zane stood on the tips of his boots to peer over the crowd.

"The prince must be due today. There's no other explanation for it."

Indeed. It was rare to see the wide road suffocate as it did now. His eyes were permanently squinted, wincing at the near-deafening racket. In doing so, he nearly blundered into a heated conflict between a cart driver and a pedestrian, which he and his wife, fortunately, managed to skirt without notice, as they seemed very close to blows.

Zane pointed toward a stable at the far side of the Merchant's District, "There, that's the place. The adventurers I've hired to escort us should be there with our carriage."

The two put all their strength into one last push through, bringing them to the front of the building. Staged outside the heavy double-doors of the stable, a plain carriage and accompanying supply cart was circled by a group of four, each possessing a variety of equipment, weapons, and lineage.

"There they are now."

One of the men, who leaned against the supply cart, sprung forward to greet their arrival, "Aha! Master Delark, there you are! You look just the way the guild master said you would!"

Zane clasped the animated adventurer's hand in response, "Nix Fallon, correct?"

"That's me! Mithril ranked swordsman, at your service!"

Clad in chainmail and light plate armor, the grizzled swordsman seemed quite capable. Zane nearly gaped in wonder at the cords of muscle that practically bulged from underneath the tight cloth padding against his mail.

"Oh, forgive me, I haven't introduced my mates."

Nix beckoned for the rest to step forward. He rested a hand on the shoulder of a robed sage, "This here is Yorn Winsup, a good friend of mine. He may look like an ancient fossil dug out of the mud, but, the empire's imperial spellcasters aside, he's the best there is this side of the continent."

The spellcaster gave Nix a contrary glare, brushing the cheeky swordsmans's hand from his shoulder, before offering the Zane family a curt nod, "Do you hear this fool? Fossils harden with age, unlike the bones of the young. Platinum rank, Mithril if you count my years of experience." He finished his introduction with a skillful twirl of an ornate short-stave.

Nix then gestured toward the slender elven woman to his side, "This Elven damsel here is Falliva."

She bowed slightly, the tip of a bow peeking out from behind her braids, but remained silent. A necklace, similar to the ones visible around Yorn's and Nix's necks, had a silver tab of metal as its focus.

"She's a bit... quiet. That said, she's an excellent guide for the route we'll be taking."

He then turned toward a robed figure, who apparently did not notice or care about Nix's gesture to come forward, "And the mystery fellow over there with the hood... that's Vijik. We've worked with 'them' for a while and... to be honest, I'm not sure what they're fully capable of... or for that matter, what they're like. They're plenty strong though, I'll testify to that!"

Zane bowed, gesturing for his wife to do the same, "It's a pleasure. We'll be in your care for the duration."

"Guild law states that groups of no less than five are to take on escort missions..." Nix mused, scratching his head, "But the master made an exception for our ranks. Busy this time of year, you know, not too many around to take on jobs. Don't worry though, we'll be more than enough!"

"All the more reassuring that they would acknowledge your skills."

"Aha, right you are!"

The volume around them rose to a deafening pitch as the crowd began to cheer.

"Oho, that must be the prince's entourage!" Nix cried over the din.

"I apologize for calling you out today."

Yorn slammed the end of his staff into the ground, "What rubbish would a youngster like him have to say? I'm sure the royal family is only putting the poor lad on a pedestal. Ending the war? What a farce! Let's be off before the little fool's misfortunate spreads to us."

The Delarks quickly boarded the carriage, Nix taking the reins of the two odd-looking beasts of burden harnessed at its front, while Falliva took charge of cart's. They resembled a kind of reptilian creature, their scales rough and dark as the night sky. Their rotund bodies, nearly cylindrical in shape, were supported by their extremely muscular limbs, which were four in total.

Once free of the congested road, they made their way out of the city via the northern gates. Nix fumbled with a roll of parchment as he drove the reptiles forward, "Our first stop will be the village of Hunt, just outside the Navir Forest. I expect we'll be there before the end of next month. We'll stop there for some rest before continuing into Thessolia's fiefdoms, and from there to Pirsk." He called down into the carriage cabin.

"I recall taking a similar route... but admittedly I wasn't paying too much attention to where I was going," Zane returned.

"You've done your own fair bit of traveling, have you?" Yorn asked, seated opposite the family.

"Yes... I used to live in Pirsk nearly a decade ago with my father."

"What in blazes brought you out here then?"

"A handful of wishes and less of gold, perhaps?"

Nix's laughter erupted from the pilot's seat outside, "Hah, haven't we all? You would've made a fine adventurer!"

"Would I?"

"Of course! I only had wishes when I began, and look at me now! Look at all of us!"

Zane laughed along with the jovial swordsman, "In another time, another place, you might be right."

The days of their trip were spent talking over the rattling of carriage wheels, while the nights beckoned them to huddle around a fire. Nix called upon Yorn to recount tales of his youth, shortening the darkness of the woods of Navir around them with the fiery years of passion and grit he retold. Ogres, dragons, mythical creatures entirely new to Zane and Milina held their rapt attention. Even little Telsi held her peace when the stories began, ceasing fits of crying and tantrums when Yorn's husky voice spun scores written over a lifetime.

"...It was after I cast a paralyzing spell upon the beast, that my old comrade Garoth drove his blade squarely into its eye. It was a sight to behold!"

A round of applause later, Zane leaned forward from his seat on a nearby stone on the roadside, "This Garoth seems pretty famous."

"Yes, he was. He was one of the few Adamantite ranked human adventurers, his strength and skill with the greatsword were well known. I was but a mere silver rank then, but despite that, he and I were friends, which was a surprise even for myself."

"What happened to him?"

The old sage sighed, "It was a tragic thing. It was not long after that the guild sent him on an errand for the royal family, to the Demihumans."

"Before the war?"

"Naturally. He and several other adamantites were to accompany one of the empire's diplomats, whose task was to broach an armistice with the royalty there. Perhaps it was a lack of proper etiquette or an unfortunate slip of the tongue, but the lot of them were executed the day after their arrival. Their heads were sent back as a warning, and that was that for several decades."

Milina recoiled, "How terrible."

"Indeed. Which begs the question of why the empire, the Demihumans, and the Inhumans were so willing to accept the prince as the herald of peace."

Yorn stroked his short beard thoughtfully, then stood with a conclusive wave of his hand, "That'll be all for tonight, I feel a little tired after recalling all of that..." He stopped suddenly, his hand poised in the air. Zane started to ask why, but a hushed whisper caused him to freeze in place.

"Don't move."

The sage motioned for Nix, who was seated alongside the Delarks, "It's about time we earned our keep for these young ones. They have us surrounded."

Nix reached for the broadsword laid beside him, "How many?"

"Near too many to count. They're a rather nasty bunch too. The aura they're giving off isn't natural."

Falliva, who was quietly seated away from them near the carriage, disappeared into the surrounding trees. The last group member, the robed Vijik, remained seated, unmoving from his spot in the back of the supply cart.

"Here they come!"

A deathly howl wrenched the still night's silence into chaos. From the depths of the woods came eyes, ringed with fire. Where their paws touched, flames took hold of the forest grass, burning the flora to cinders.

"Wolves!?" Nix exclaimed, his sword drawn.

"They're no ordinary wolves... I've never seen anything quite like it. Stay vigilant, I sense something far more sinister near their back ranks."