Hump had to admire the hardiness of the Stonebark Forest people. Even with the threat of monsters on their doorstep, they were not ready to run. They dug trenches, built barricades, and took up what weapons they could—hunting bows, hammers, axes, spears, and hand-me-down swords. Against the corrupted beasts of the forest, they might even be able to hold their own. Against the monsters of the dungeon, Hump wasn’t so sure. Though he supposed that applied to the rest of them just as much.

Whatever had happened to the expedition, something had gone wrong. Something that was no doubt beyond a few parties of iron rankers to do anything about. Hump just crossed his fingers it wasn’t enough to wipe out a force of bronze and silver ranked adventurers.

It was far from his first time left in the dark. Even back when he was apprenticed to his master, it was common for them to take on patrol work around dungeons. Risky business, and nobody could ever truly prepare for everything that could go wrong. While the topic of dungeon sentience was still debated, nobody would deny it was a living, breathing thing. It required sustenance just like everything else, and the best way it could get that was to grow large enough to encompass everything around it. Entire cities had been consumed in the Fallen Lands—hundreds of thousands of people forced to flee their homes or be devoured by dungeons like the Hellpit or the monsters within.

Several villagers rushed over to them as they approached. Harlow and Priestess Joan were amongst them, along with members of Stonepath and Nestle. The man approached Hump and his party.

“It is good to see you all back,” Harlow said. “We were losing hope.”

“It is too early to abandon hope yet,” Bud said.

“What of our horses?” Hump asked.

“We brought them back here,” Harlow said. “They’re stabled.”

Hump let out a breath. “Thank you.”

“What’s the situation?” Marcela asked the group. “It’s good to see so many have come from Stonepath and Nestle. I fear we do not have the strength to spread our force.”

“Most have come,” an old woman that Hump thought he’d met briefly when they’d first arrived in Stonepath. “Though a few stubborn fools wouldn’t leave their homes behind. Not even on the word of a Chosen.”

Marcela frowned, and Hump could see the frustration in her face. “Then I shall pray the gods keep harm from their path.”

“Harm is coming then?” Priestess Joan asked. “When the forest started shaking… It was as if Isterra herself had descended.”

“There are no gods here today,” Hump said. “The dungeon has expanded, and I suspect monsters will soon follow. It is good to see you have already started to prepare.”

“What can ordinary men do against a dungeon?” a man said. “We shouldn’t be here.”

“Then go, Harrold,” the old woman said. “Nobody forced you to come here with us, and you cannot force us to leave with you. We’d be better off without your blathering.”

The man’s face reddened, but he backed off.

“Do not be so disheartened,” Marcela said. “It will not be dragons we face, but the animals you are familiar with.”

“They are beasts twisted by an evil power,” the man spat.

Marcela nodded. “Twisted, yes, but still the same creatures you have coexisted with all these years. You can still kill them.”

“Every able body is hard at work,” Harlow said. “We’re blocking off roads and gathering everyone in the market square.”

“What of those too weak to fight?” Marcela asked.

“Safe inside the chapel,” Priestess Joan said.

“Very good,” Marcela said. “We’ll survey the defences and keep watch over the forest. There is no telling when an attack may come. Make sure your people do not push themselves too hard.”

“We of Stonebark are tough as earth,” Harlow said. “You need not worry about us.” He paused. “There is something else. We saw lights flashing amongst the trees in the distance, like a battle going on.”

Marcela looked at Eve and Corvin. “That must be the expedition.”

“How far was it?” Eve asked. “Did you see them Corvin?”

“I saw them alright,” he said. “Gods know how far. I can’t tell anything with all those damned trees in the way.”

“At least a dozen miles,” Harlow said. “It was difficult to tell in the night, but it was far beyond the flashes we saw of you.”

“Far enough not to be our concern,” Corvin snapped. “And it stopped a while ago. What does it matter anyway? It’s not like we can do anything about it.”

“It matters because we do not know of the peril the expedition faces,” Marcela said. “I pray they are still strong.”

“Ricard is with them,” Corvin said. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Hump said. “How far can a pack of bloodwolves travel in a night?” he asked Harlow. “We heard howls in the distance.”

His face paled. “A hundred miles in a day if they have to.”

“A force of bronze ranked adventurers and a hungry dungeon is a lot to motivate a beast,” Hump said. “We need to be ready.”

“I’m going up the belltower,” Celaine said, pointing at the chapel. “I’ll let you know if I see anything.”

“Corvin, go with her,” Marcela ordered. “If they come, light the forest up.”

“I have my own party to worry about,” Corvin said.

“This is no longer a simple quest,” Marcela said. “We need everyone to function as a single unit if we’re to protect the village. We need Ordana’s light tonight.”

Corvin sighed. He turned to Patrick, the rogue of his party. “Keep an eye on Kesha for me.”

“You don’t even need to ask,” Patrick said.

“The moment Celaine sees something, light it up,” Hump said.

“I don’t need help from you, wizard,” Corvin said.

“Do what he says,” Marcela said. “Hump’s word has proved valuable more than once today. And Celaine’s eyes too.”

Corvin glared at him then turned. “Very well.”

“Do I really have to go with him?” Celaine muttered.

Hump snorted. “Try not to start a fight. That light blessing of his is useful.”

The villagers worked on the defences by lamplight, constructing barriers out of stone and the lumber of stonebark trees across the roads leading to the square. They’d abandoned the outer houses and focused on reinforcing the more defendable chokepoints. It was a strategy concocted by Harlow, and one Hump agreed with. With so many hidden places in the village for monsters to lurk, it was best to choose a space where they could take the fight on good ground and use their numbers.

Hump went to check on Prancer and the other horses, finding them stabled at the inn. They were all nervous, clearly sensing the tension in the village.

“I’ll keep an eye on them while you’re gone,” a voice came. Hump glanced toward the inn door, where the old innkeeper was standing.

“There’s nothing you can do for them here,” Hump said. “You’d be safer in the chapel.”

Jasper shook his head. “This is my tavern. My home. I’d rather take my chances here.”

Hump hesitated a moment then nodded. “In which case, you have my thanks. I’m not sure what I’d do without Prancer.” He scratched the horse’s nose and the short, grey hair of his cheek. “He’s a good horse.”

“That he is.” Strangely, the old man seemed calm.

He pointed, and Hump turned to find the belltower shining with light, as if a miniature sun was contained within. Shouts of alarm filled the village.

“You had best get going,” he said.

Hump nodded. “Good luck.”

“And to you, lad.”

Hump rushed back outside as people shouted and pointed at creatures flying above the forest in their direction. Marcela was nearby, gathering the village-folk and arranging them into rough formations by the barriers. Perhaps a hundred men and women. Bolstered by twenty adventurers, it was a respectable force, though Hump couldn’t help but worry. If a fight broke out on the streets, there was no telling how many lives they’d lose.

Hump joined his own party at the edge of the market square, on the road that gave the most direct route to the forest. He stared out at the trees, illuminated by Corvin’s light, an eerie sight of clear trees and long shadows. He wondered what might already lurk there.

“I think they’re bats,” Dylan said. “I remember hearing of a large species when I passed through here before.”

“Bats don’t sound so bad,” Emilia said.

“Under normal circumstances, I would agree,” Dylan said. “I believe they mostly fed on fruit and nuts. Now though… a dungeon can drive anything to bloodlust.”

“Something else must be driving them this way,” Hump said. “Dungeon or not, animals don’t just fly miles in the night without reason.”

Bud rubbed his eyes and squinted. “Am I going mad, or are the trees moving?”

Hump stared, his eyes slowly widening as distant canopies swayed back and forth, gently enough that he’d not even considered it to be anything but wind. Watching now, bit by bit, they were getting closer.

“Shit,” Hump said. “As if things weren’t bad enough. More blightroot trees I think.”

“A lot more.”

“I guess we know what the bats are flying away from then,” Emilia said.

“Yeah, and gods know what else,” Hump said. “We could have a whole horde of monsters coming right this way.”

“Everyone to the barricades,” Marcela suddenly shouted.

Hump glanced over to see her with the other Chosen. Celaine was running toward him.

“Have you seen?” she asked.

“The trees are moving,” Hump said. “We saw.”

“No. Well, yes, but this is closer than that,” Celaine said. “There’re creatures moving through the trees. They’re almost upon us.”

“What…” Hump trailed off as he caught shadows moving. He’d been so focused on the distant trees he’d missed it before. Glimpses of fur in the forest, the glint of red eyes. And then a silverback deer burst from the forest, running directionless past the village. A few moments later, more followed, their hooves hammering the ground as they ran.

“Ready your bows!” Marcela shouted. “Remember, these are the same beasts that have always dwelled within the forest. Stand together, and you have nothing to fear.”

As wolves emerged from the forest, Hump wasn’t so sure, but he wasn’t about to contradict her. They had time.

Further up the road, a house exploded like a mountain cracked in two. Rubble showered the ground ahead of them, scattering all over it as a stonetusk burst out from within. The giant, tusked creature raced down the road in wild panic, a giant, grey wolf nipping at its heels. There were more behind it: dozens of silverback deer, boulder boars, and more wolves. A red glint to their eyes filled Hump with a sense of wrongness.

The villagers looked nervously to each other.

“Steady,” Marcela called. “Remember, they are still the beasts you know.”

Suddenly Dylan’s blessing, Nature’s Spring, radiated from him, encompassing all those around him. Empowering them with essence, but more importantly, giving them courage. Hump felt its touch like the warmth of sun, and he felt the wrongness pushed back.

“Bring it down, Celaine,” Hump said.

She raised her bow, silver light building in the arrow’s point until it shone like a star. She let it loose, the string buzzing, the arrow hissing down the street. It found the stonetusk’s skull and pierced even the thick hide and bone of the giant creature, sending it to the ground.

“Shoot them!” Marcela ordered.

More strings hummed around them as arrows from half a hundred bows filled the road. Many missed, bouncing off the road or burying themselves into the wooden beams of houses, but many found their mark, bringing the creatures squealing to the ground. More beasts followed behind them, and the group reached for more, another disorganised volley pouring into the horde.

That seemed to get the message across, as even in their panicked state the animals veered around the market square, racing through the streets to the fields beyond. A few creatures, either brave or stupid, charged through the mass of dead and dying beasts and leapt the barricade into the line of weapons waiting for them. A wolf burst into the ranks, sending them scattering back as it snarled and growled. It didn’t flee. Instead, it lashed out at the closest target, tearing into the arm of closest man and barrelling him to the ground as he screamed.

Those around it drove it back, and Marcela dashed in close, carving off its head with her curved blade, slick with whatever water blessing she channelled. The creature collapsed to the ground.

More arrived in waves, those hungry enough to brave the line of defences. But they only came a few at a time. Numbers that they could deal with by maintaining a tight formation.

Soon, the tide of animals slowed to a trickle. Many had died, and many more had fled beyond the village. A problem for a later date. Ahead of them, the final few come limping from the trees, ravaged by wounds. There was a blur of shadow and the deer furthest from them was speared to the ground. Something shuffled beyond, and Hump glimpsed the red eyes of a blightroot tree. The deer died flailing on the end of its roots, its essence drained from its body until nothing but a husk remained.

Blightroot trees emerged then, like the forest itself had risen up to destroy them. Trees that once fed on the earth essence of the region now consumed by dungeon essence. Blighted. Fallen. Corrupted.

And then a humanoid figure appeared from the trees. It floated out into the open, suspended just above the ground. Its body was of grey wood, as if a sculptor had carved her from a tree. Only, it was taller than a person, but with a leaner figure. Green essence pulsed gently through the cracks in its skin, like lines in bark, and its eyes shone with it too. Though red muddied them, faint, but impossible to miss.

“A tree spirit,” Dylan whispered, awe in his voice. “Krioc’s blessing, what has happened to it.”

“Gods’ mercy,” a villager said.

Another took a step back. “What do we do?”

“Marcela, we need to strike now, before they reach the villager,” Hump said.

He had only ever heard of tree spirits, but never seen one for himself. They were creatures of nature, born from its essence to nurture forests and life, worthy of worship.

As the creature raised an arm in their direction, a dozen blightroot trees emerging around it, Hump decided this one was all out of such sentiment.