It was clear that the town would require significant effort to clean up. Bands of still-nervous people were tasked with tidying up streets of as much debris as they could. The market square in the centre of town was the site of many large bonfires. Every monster body, torn up armour, or broken pieces of wood were dragged into the centre of the town to burn.

Faye watched the centre bonfire, the first and largest, as she took a break. Staring into the fire was always mesmerising. She tried to ignore the goings on around her. She was still shaking the feeling that had crept into her meditations yesterday.

Blocking out other sounds was much easier said than done. As the townsfolk went about the business of gathering the detritus of battle, they would regularly come across the bodies of fallen friends and family. Faye’s heart squeezed each time, but no emotion welled up.

She was hollow.

Reverberating about the shell of her body were the cries, anguished wails, or angry accusatory words bandied about by the bereaved.

Standing in the middle of it all was like being at the centre of a storm. The eye revolved around her, a miniature bubble of nothingness, surrounded by the misery and chaotic emotions of the town.

Eventually, she found herself moving again. She picked a street, wandered down it until she saw something that would go on a fire, and added it to her bundle. Eventually, the bundle was too much to carry in her arms, so she wrapped it with strips of scrap leather and swung it over her shoulder. She could make and carry three such bundles before it was too ungainly for her to continue.

It was just before she would have to return to the bonfires that she heard a commotion behind a house, shouting and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh.

Frowning, Faye followed the sounds to the garden interspersing the space between this group of houses. The grass was mostly dead, but that was because the ground had been torn up by the Primalist’s monsters. Their bodies still littered the ground. Some were pinned to the mud with broken spear shafts.

Gathered around the centre of the garden were four people. Three of them were taller than Faye, but one woman towered over her — and, she suspected, would have towered over Ailith, too. Her height was almost matched by her girth, rolls of fat banded each limb, her belly stretched outward, and her neck seemed larger than the hole of her dress.

Faye paused.

It was an odd sight. The obese woman was pointing at the others, then at the ground. Her words were thickly accented, and Faye was finding it difficult to understand what she was saying.

Curiosity drove her forward.

“—you have to do something about this!”

“How?” replied one of the men, who was just as short as Faye, glaring up at the woman who towered over him in every way. “It’s too damned painful to touch, and we don’t want anything to do with it anyway!”

The woman stabbed downward with her chubby hand; one finger extended menacingly.

“You’ll get rid of this thing, or I’ll charge you extra— oh, snooping, are we?”

The last was directed at Faye, who had wandered into the woman’s sight. She straightened from threatening the man, and slowly rotated to look at Faye.

“Huh, you’re not one of this lot, are you?” the woman said, her strangely full lips wrapping around the words in a way that strangled them and made them hard to parse. Her piercing, watery eyes narrowed as she looked at Faye. “Just who are you?”

Faye put her bundles of thorn and wood down, stretching a little as she dropped the weight.

“Just a passer-by, don’t worry about me.”

Looking over the woman, now that she was closer, Faye saw details in the thread, stitching, and fabric that indicated one rather important detail: money.

This woman was wealthy. Possibly incredibly so.

“No such thing!” the woman shouted, her jowls quivering as she did. “Now, out with it, girl, who are you?”

Faye tilted her head. “What is it you’re so desperate for them to get rid of?” she asked.

“Nothing! If you’re not going to tell me who you are, you can leave.”

Faye shrugged, “I haven’t decided yet. But if that’s some debris from the battle, then take it to the bonfires in the market square. We are burning it.”

For a moment, Faye saw a flash of emotion across the woman’s face, but it was gone too quickly to put a name to. Her watery eyes narrowed.

“What are you after?”

Faye frowned. “Absolutely nothing… we’re clearing the town. What is your problem?”

The woman moved forward, slowly swinging each leg. “No one wants nothing, and no one pokes their nose into business that has nothing to do with ‘em if there isn’t anything in it for them… so, for one last time, who are you, and what do you want?”

Faye had allowed the woman to come closer. There was little chance that she was a true threat to Faye. But as the woman came within a few steps Faye realised her mistake. The woman smelled of stale sweat, which could have been ignored if not for the cloying, overpowering stench of perfume that was clearly supposed to cover the smell of days old sweat.

She tried not to make a face.

The anger that clouded the woman’s face told Faye she had not been successful.

“I don’t like eavesdroppers. Get out of this place.”

Faye murmured to herself for a moment. She weighed up the pros and cons of pushing the issue.

Normally, she would have looked to the other people involved for indicators. But the woman was standing too closely now for Faye to see around her without making it too obvious.

Deciding better of it, Faye shrugged and picked up her bundles.

“Alright, buh-bye now.”

She turned and stalked away from the houses, following the route she had taken from the road, just in case. Turning left and heading back toward the bonfires, Faye counted the alleys on her left, and as she reached five, she dropped her bundles just against a wall near the side of the road and took the alleyway.

Doubling back was simple and getting into position to see what the woman and the others had been arguing over was trivial.

Of course, seeing that what they had been arguing over was a corpse was disturbing. Seeing that it was a Primalist corpse was alarming.

None of the other Primalist’s bodies had been recovered. As far as the Guild could tell, the Primalists had pulled out and taken every Primalist corpse with them.

The fact that this one remained raised many questions.

The woman pointed at the corpse again, and finally managed to find some line of persuasion to force the others to pick up the Primalist’s body.

Faye turned on [Mana Sense]. The Primalist’s body was inert. Not a single drop of mana was left within the body. None of the others around the garden had a hint of mana on them, either. Nothing beyond the ordinary background mana, at least.

Not going to get involved. I’ll tell the Guard. Maybe there is a budding necromancer in our midst.

She slipped back down to the ground and retraced her steps to the road. She picked up her bundled debris and set off for the market square again.

As she walked, her thoughts turned over the people in the town. Lóthaven was a strange place. Clearly out of the way, as far as civilisations went, but also packed with enough people she would never know them all. The sprawling town was half-empty, because of some odd quirk in the town charter… that had not been clear to her even after it had been explained.

If she kept barrelling through the town the way that she had with the Primalists, she was sure to upset some of the local politics enough to be treated even worse than before. Faye felt that she had picked up enough to avoid some of the more obvious and egregious social faux pas she could make, but there were still small groups of people in the town that Faye had no idea their current aims, long-term goals, or opinions.

The market square was visible well before she reached it, as the flickering flames breached the tops of some of the smaller buildings, and the dirty roiling smoke that billowed out from each pyre merged together into a giant column of sooty darkness.

Fortunately, the Guard were in the square in force, they were taking it upon themselves to ensure that all leftover debris was collected and deposited — without any sticky fingers getting hold of some.

Faye took her bundles over to one of the people managing a pyre, the closest one to the edge this time, and made a beeline for the nearest clump of Guards that looked important enough.

“Excuse me,” she called, “which one of you is in charge?”

One of them pointed at one of his companions, who was currently talking with a younger boy — one of the messengers the Guard were employing. Nodding, Faye waited far enough away to be clear she was not trying to eavesdrop.

“Might be quicker to tell us, miss,” said the man who had pointed out their superior. “Looks like the Sergeant is a bit busy.”

Faye looked at the Sergeant. Sure enough, he finished talking with the messenger boy and immediately whirled and started shouting orders out to the surrounding men and women.

“Busy or not, he’ll want to hear this. Someone’s not bringing in a corpse.”

The guard nodded, grimacing. “Gods, all right, let me interrupt him. He hates it, but…”

With a sigh, the young guard turned and walked toward the Sergeant. With a polite, but firm, cough, the guardsman waited a moment for the Sergeant to pause in his stream of orders.

The guard spoke, gesturing at Faye, and waited as the Sergeant considered for a moment. He nodded his head, then carried on issuing orders.

Sergeant Orte, as he introduced himself, was a no-nonsense man with an impressive moustache. His salt and pepper hair gave him a sense of gravitas that Faye found a lot of the guards lacked.

“I hear you brought a report of unlawful salvaging?”

Faye looked at the guard who she had spoken to, who nodded. “Uh, yes, I suppose I did.”

“Where was the incident, how many people were involved, and what was the item in question?”

“I’m not sure the name of the place, I can lead you there. Four, though one was clearly in charge. And the ‘item’ was a body. A Primalist’s body.”

The Sergeant’s moustache quivered. “A Primalist’s body? Doubtful. The enemy forces retrieved all bodies as they retreated from the town. I’m happy to say you are likely mistaken.”

Faye frowned. “I am not mistaken; I clearly saw the body.”

“Miss, I’m sure that you saw something—”

Faye held up a hand, interrupting the Sergeant before he went on much further. “I’m going to stop you there, Sergeant. We haven’t met, but I am a member of the Guild. I can assure you that it was a Primalist’s body. The longer you wait to send a squad, the longer they have to take whatever it was they wanted.”

The Sergeant had bristled at Faye’s tone. At the mention of the Guild, he had practically shut down.

“Just because you are a member of the Guild does not entitle you to ordering my men around.”

Faye opened her mouth in surprise. “What is going on here? I thought the Guard had taken the clean-up of the town under their supervision?”

“Of course, it is our civic duty to ensure the town runs smoothly despite whatever… condition befalls it.”

“And you don’t want to go find possibly one of the only remaining Primalist bodies in the hands of regular townsfolk because…?”

“Because the idea is preposterous!” he spluttered. “I highly doubt your claim is as urgent as you suggest.”

Faye held up a hand. “All right, I wash my hands of it. Travel down that road for fifteen minutes, take a right into one of the housing areas, that’s where they were. Goodbye.”

The Sergeant scowled at her as she spoke and spluttered again as she turned and strode away. Rivalry between the two major powers in the town, or something more insidious?

The Black Rose were waiting for someone from inside the town. That does not mean there was only one traitor.

Damn it, she thought, I’m going to get paranoid at this rate.

A young messenger ran up to Faye, waving.

“Ho! Adventurer!”

Faye nodded back, “Have something for me?”

“Aye, message from the Guild. Message begins: Adventurers’ presence required at the hall at earliest convenience. Meeting called. All required. Administrator Thyra. Message ends.”

“Great, thank you,” she said.

“See anyone else? We think you were the only one out this way, but I haven’t seen the others to check.”

Faye shook her head at the messenger. “I’m not sure, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen my friends today though; you might be right.”

The messenger blew air out before saying, “I should check anyway. Thanks, Adventurer.”

Faye watched the messenger go with amusement. It seemed like the youth of the town had taken to their employment with gusto.

She had already wanted to head back to the Guild anyway, but it seemed that she had a more urgent reason than before.

The Guild hall was a little less active that afternoon than Faye had seen it in a week. With most people out there finding the flammable debris, the hall was almost down to its basic staff structure.

Faye smiled tiredly at those she knew by name and nodded politely at those she did not. Each time she stepped inside the Guild it seemed like they had hired another dozen people. It just drove home the point that she did not know many people here, despite how long she had lived here now.

Fortunately, the Guard had left most of the organisation in this part of the town to the Guild, so the moment she had entered areas patrolled by Guilders, Faye had felt less anxious about being stabbed in the back.

The fear of a traitor was still almost overwhelming, however.

She pushed that all aside. The message had said a meeting had been called. She was fairly certain there were only a few reasons the adventurers would be involved in discussions. Fighting.

Making her way to the Administrator’s office once again, Faye was struck by the thought that she had somehow found herself as someone, rather than no one. In her old life, she would never have been called to a meeting like this.

She frowned as she realised, she liked it.

Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

Without more time to tackle the philosophy of the question, Faye stepped inside the office and nodded at everyone present.

Other than the Administrator herself, Arran, Ailith, and Gavan were already present, Taveon was sitting on a stool somewhat out of the way, and Maggie was sitting beside the Administrator with a quill and piece of parchment ready on a writing board.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Faye,” the Administrator said with a smile.

“Not a problem,” she replied. “Sorry to have kept you all waiting.”

The Administrator waved a hand and then indicated the papers in front of her. They were all small, folded many times by the looks of it, and bore lines of writing that Faye had no hope of reading — her practise time had all but vanished recently.

“I have some disturbing news. I will get right to it, as I don’t see that dancing around the topic is good for any of us.”

Faye looked at the others with concern, but her confused look was met with its equal on their faces, too.

None of us were forewarned. This can’t be good.

“The other adventuring teams are… gone.”

For a moment, the words hung in the air. Their sound washed over Faye, and she blinked. She was not quite sure what they meant.

Arran beat her to the question.

“What do you mean, gone?” He coughed at the end of the question and massaged his throat.

“I mean that I have received word that each of the teams sent out on their regular paths have either been ambushed, delayed between stops beyond all reasonable timing, or in one extremely disturbing case, walked away from the town they were stationed in, announcing their departure from the Guild.”

Everyone else in the room rocked back as if they had been slapped, gasped overlapping as they all inhaled in shock.

“Some of the messages were incoming at the same time as we were besieged and were in transit before I sent my own messages. Others only came in response to our query.”

“What does this mean?” Faye asked, her voice quiet.

“It means that our plans moving forward have to change, dramatically, if we are to survive whatever concentrated effort has been placed against Lóthaven,” the Administrator replied. There was a heaviness to her tone, but the fire of her defiance shone through, too. “Adventurers, I am sorry to say that you are our final team. We are no longer an adventuring hub.”

Ailith spoke up. “Well, crap. That was not the news we were hoping to hear.”

“I am so very sorry for your losses,” Taveon said into the silence. “I know that you all bond strongly with fellow adventurers. If I can do anything for any of you, you only need ask.”

They all sat in silence for a few minutes. Faye was uncertain what she should say, if anything.

Finally, Arran raised his head and quietly, in a croak, asked, “Who did this to us, Administrator? The Primalists hardly seemed capable of such a large-scale attack. Who was it that did this?”

The Administrator, in that moment, did not look the same as she usually did. Instead of the hardened Administrator, Faye saw the woman beneath the title and position. Thyra looked out at them all, her eyes glistening.

“I do not know. I am working on that very question. This goes beyond anything I had feared. Most of our fighters are still resting. They will likely be in recovery for a long time. You four are our only combat capable team left.”

Faye stirred. “Wait, what about Rían? He’s still an adventurer, isn’t he?”

Thyra’s face moved back into the Administrator’s resolve. “I am uncertain of his loyalty. His family are no longer in the town. It has been confirmed that they left before the assault, suddenly and without much of the planning that would ordinarily occur in such a situation.”

Faye narrowed her eyes. “That’s an awful coincidence.”

“Are you really sticking up for him?” Ailith asked Faye, incredulity in her voice.

“I feel like I have to…” Faye replied. “He helped me take down the golem, he defended the people of the town. I’m not sure what his family have done, but he seemed to be loyal to the Guild.”

The Administrator straightened as a knock came at the door. “We are about to find out. Open!”

With barely a hint of sound, the door to the Administrator’s office opened, letting in a spillage of sound from the hallways beyond. But, stepping into the space in the middle of the room was a figure that she knew all too well.

Rían, the Swordfighter. He had no weapon on his belt, unusual for him, and Faye noticed that one of the accompanying Guilders was holding it. She grimaced.

They were acting like he had already been proven guilty.