It was a cold winter's night in Eston.

Exactly the kind the children pray for at the solstice.

A thick blanket of snow covered the streets, and a thick blanket of cloud covered the stars.

The perfect stage for fireworks to steal the show.

Now that he had finally been cleared of all suspicion, Laurus and Sylphie had found the perfect spot to watch the spectacle. The roof of the guild house provided an uninterrupted view of the light show.

Dozens of colorful sparks exploded in the sky, shaking the air with their loud bangs, and when rocket exploded to create a dragon, it lit up the town as if it were day.

Sylphie glanced at Laurus, he looked like a true hero of legend in this light.

It occurred to her that this was the longest they had gone without bickering in a while. The tragedy had overshadowed their petty differences, but it had been... nice. To be so close to him again.

"Don't worry Sylphie." Laurus had detected her ruminations. "We'll go back to the village, and we'll put things right."

The light of the firework faded away.

The last time she had seen the elven village, it was over her shoulder, as she was fleeing its fire and violence.

"How canst thou be so sure?" She said somberly against the darkness.

"Because. We still have a future there, don't we?"

When the light came back she saw his confident grin.

"We... a future...?" She swallowed. "Laurus, whatever doth happen. I want to have said it. I lov-"

A loud bang drowned out her words as the loudest firework yet split open the clouds.

"Woooow!" Laurus gasped at the size of it. "Just like our battle with the storm dragon... Sorry Sylphie, what were you saying?"

Sylphie suddenly blushed like a tomato, too self conscious to repeat herself. "I said... thou better better keepst thine promises this time. Or I shallt strangle the life out of thou myself."

He smiled. "You got it."

-

"That little tramp." The mage whispered.

"What is it? What are you seeing?" Margaret hovered around her as if that would grant her a glimpse of the woman's divinations.

After the spying bug had been destroyed by whatever lurked in the forest, she had created something with a more immediate feed, though a much reduced range. A blue butterfly was spying on the two from the side of the chimney.

"Nothing... Just the elf girl trying to confess her love to Laurus."

"Not her too!" The paladin sunk down, "tell me he at least turned her down."

"I believe he didn't hear her."

The duelist clicked her tongue. "As if it's not bad enough to have you lot fluttering around him. Now he's got that childhood friend shadowing him everywhere."

"How are we supposed to be compete with a childhood friend? An elven childhood friend?" Margaret whined.

"Here is what I propose," the mage said, "we form a truce. Until that runt is gone, we work together to make sure she doesn't win."

"Deal." Margaret said.

The martial artist smashed her fists together as confirmation.

"If we're going to have a truce..." the duelist said, "that means none of us can make a move either, or we'd be forced to go back to fighting."

"Well? Are you in?" Margaret asked, "we can't do it unless we're all part of it."

"Fine, I'm in. But the second she's gone, I'm going back to trying to seduce him." She said.

"That goes for all of us." The mage said.

The martial artist smashed her fists together as confirmation.

Only the charred remains of the great mother tree had survived as proof that once there had been an elven village there.

The walkways and huts had long since scattered into the winds.

Laurus and the others were high ranking adventurers and their flying mounts allowed them to travel long distances quickly, but they didn't touch down on village ground until half a day after setting out.

They had flown over the place twice without recognizing it.

Where they landed there was a small shrine, a vertical slab with a wreath on top of a small mound.

A young boy was praying at it.

Laurus dismounted his pegasus. It whinnied, but he ignored it.

"What is this? Where are the villagers?"

The boy turned around, his eyes were covered by thick bangs but he displayed a feigned surprise using the lower half of his face. "Adventurers!

Well met. If you seek the hidden village of the elves, I'm afraid it's long gone."

He towards a whisk card on the mound, which showed the village burning.

"The culmination of years of war I'm afraid. The new Baronet is determined to bring an end to such conflicts."

"The wretch doth lie!" Sylphie cried from behind Margaret's back (the women had argued against her riding on Laurus' steed.) "There were no war! The elves were ambushed without warning, and they were slaughtered."

The boy nodded solemnly. "Indeed. That is the sort of war it was. Elves and goblins have been killing each other on sight for generations."

There was a strange logic to his words. Civilized people would kill goblins on sight, from the creatures' own perspective this would be nothing less than an existential war. Not just bestial desire would drive such an attack on the village, an ancestral pride as well.

"And you then?" Margaret asked, "Are you on the side of the goblins, or on the side of justice?"

He smiled, "in this place, goblins are on the side of justice."

She grimaced, "if that is a lie it would be one sinful enough to strip your blessings."

"Papa Scratch has been appointed Baronet of the greater Eston territory by your own monarch. We serve the same justice you do."

The duelist cocked her head. "But you're not a goblin... what are you?"

"I am a messenger," he said, "the Baronet had decided to sponsor you."

The other adventurers had dismounted now as well. "What is this, sponsoring?" The mage asked.

"Right now in Eston, there is a room reserved at the at the armory. If you go there you will find a wealth of enchanted steel weaponry and potions.

It is yours!" He smiled eagerly, "noblemen often commission personalized quests with a specific party of trusted adventurers. These sponsored parties are payed well and equipped to handle prestigious quests. You will be conquering dungeon after dungeon, liberating corrupted biomes! Heroes!"

The duelist chuckled, "we're rank A. Does he think we need sponsoring by some Baron?" she whispered.

"It's a Baronet." The mage whispered back.

"The hell's a Baronet?"

Laurus was looking up in the sky, "that's an attractive offer, but you still haven't answered my question."

The boy pouted.

"Where are the villagers now?"

He didn't answer.

"Binding Light!" Margaret shouted, and circles of light suddenly appeared around the boy's limbs and neck.

His body began to stretch and morph, and he hissed nastily at the magical constructs.

"It's a demon." She said, "summoned by the Baronet as a familiar."

"The pegasi saw through the disguise immediately." Laurus said, he pointed the tip of his sword at the bound demon. "You will take us to your master, or else."

Scratch got up and spat on the ground. "Didn't work."

"What was he doing?" Alpheba asked.

"Scratch can control the demon, but he can't use his body when he's doing it." Second explained, as he handed his brother a waterskin. "We were talking to the adventurer."

"Ugh. That was never going to work. Let the incubus do his natural business. Rather, occupy yourself with more pressing matters."

"Why? What's happening?" Scratch looked around.

He had zoned out in the wolves' den, but now the battlefield around him was nearly unrecognizable.

The sunstone lanterns had been trampled and the mossy earth had been upturned in the still ongoing maelstrom of fire and melee.

It was another fairy attack.

The mother wolves were fighting for the lives of their litters now, and various bandits were keeping the enemy occupied with magical fire, but it was a losing battle.

Not mantis knights or magical beasts had invaded, but a new enemy.

Young trees in the shape of women, their stem without roots and shaped like legs, they walked. Their faces frozen in a wooden disdain, they sang.

And their chest a glowing block of amber, they wielded magic.

Cracks in the stone and clouds of nasty looking spores materialized where the creatures waved their arms.

They threw around their magic haphazardly in all directions, as the bandits had successfully broken apart their formation and reduced the battle to a skirmish, where they had the home advantage.

"Dryads." Alpheba groaned, "they can move through the woods without detection. We weren't prepared." She used magic to cancel out a cloud of poison heading their way. "I could release the wolf, but... it won't distinguish friend from foe."

"Yeah, don't do that." Scratch said, he took a gulp of water. "We'll retreat from this position. Move around into the upper layer and seal them in.

They can't get to the core from here anyway."

"No! I can't do that. I have to protect this door. My master..."

He looked behind him. It was the gate to Noss' dangerous sanctum project. "She's hiding in there? ... You know, we don't expect you to give your life just to buy her a few more minutes. In fact, if she dies, I'll make sure you inherit-"

"Shut up." She said. "Help me guard the door and just.. shut. up."

"She's got an attitude." Scratch said to Second.

Second nodded.

-

His nonchalant attitude quickly melted when he first tried to use his fire spellrod on a dryad and it did exactly nothing.

The manabelt sucked out his blood in exchange for the magic, but the fire did not much more than sear it.

"Hhm..." He inspected his weapon while the enemy was kept away from him by the rest of the fighters. "You'd think a wooden creature would be more vulnerable to fire."

"No, you wouldn't," Alpheba said while casting her magic, "wood may catch the flame after it has died and dried up, but it does not die to it any quicker than flesh."

"So I can't even rely on that kind of logic. What kind of logic is left?" Scratch sighed in exasperation. "Come Second, we better get out of here."

But they were saved by the door to the sanctum bursting open.

A cool green light filled the cavern, returning vision and clarity back to the underground.

All the fighting had ceased.

The dryads had frozen like mannequins.

The bandits stood around in confusion.

Only some of the younger wolves were still angrily gnawing on their enemies' legs.

"It vorks!" Noss belted out, "most vonderful! Now I prove my merit as a dark sorcerer. It vorks!"

He stood beside the most beautiful woman any of them had ever seen. A tall and developed figure in a ripped dress, none-the-less radiating grace and nobility.

Her blonde hair wafted through the air like in water.

In fact, she floated weightlessly in the middle of the sanctum completely. Large butterfly wings sprouted from her back, but stood still in the air.

She looked over the gawking mass with a superior smile and raised her hand.

The dryads, in a robotic motion, took a hold of their glowing cores, and ripped them out of their chests, immediately collapsing on the floor.

Without realizing it, Scratch had approached the divine being and held out his hand.

Her own hand reach out to touch his and her face contorted in a wicked smile. It began to peel and shrivel into the pruny face of a hag.

He recoiled.

She sunk down, and when her feet touched the floor she had become Lacrima. The witch.

"What the hell was that?" Scratch emoted heavily, he had been severely put off by the transformation.

"The marriage of dark sorcery and witchcraft." Lacrima said, "I do believe."

-

It wouldn't be until much later that she would explain what she had meant.

While Scratch had tried to negotiate with the heroes, dryads had stormed not just the dungeon, but the entire Promise.

Buildings had been ripped open, cattle stomped, and men brutalized.

When Lacrima had performed her trick, the entire town had been saved.

So she took some time basking in the glory and praise of the half-legitimate bandit town.

"Witches are normally tasked with rooting out dark sorcery," she explained, "but if it's in the service of our community, I suppose it's only... proper."

"You're on the wrong side of the law now anyway," Scratch said, "so why not?"

"And the power of a dungeon..." she nearly drooled reminiscing, "it is... intoxicating."

"Likevise, dark sorcerers tend to look down on vielders of divine magic," Noss said, "but Guth's transformation magic. It's inspired."

"So what happened?" Scratch wanted to know.

"Didn't you notice, dearie?" She asked, "I turned into a fairy queen."

He blinked blankly.

"Zhe fairy queen controls zhe vitchvood creatures using fairy light." Noss said patiently, "ve have created a sanctum zhat turns zhe occupant into a fairy queen. So zhat she may overwrite zhe control of zhe vitchvood ruler vith her own."

"Alas," Lacrima sighed, "we the sanctum is imperfect and can't keep me transformed for very long. So the light won't reach farther than this town."

"Perhaps..." Noss suggested innocently, "if ve could build a specialize transformation dungeon, closer to zhe border..."

They both looked at Scratch.

"Did you say light?" He asked, "like a radio signal?"

"Please provide us with another wyrm shard," Lacrima said, and it didn't escape him that she took the trouble to ask nicely rather than demand it, "to build a fairy stronghold."

"You want to get out of here before the big shot comes to destroy us all, don't you?" Scratch asked.

"I think my master just really enjoys the body of a fairy queen," Alpheba said with a pressed smile.

Lacrima gave her a strict look.

"We can build twelve fairy whatevers if we want," he said, "all along the river to keep them out from every direction. But it's all theoretical unless

Youthere's plan works and keeps us from being destroyed."

"What is his plan anyway?" Lacrima asked.

He looked at her with a difficult expression.

I feel guilty. If hobgoblins destroyed the village, does that mean it's my fault?

They asked me to slay the hobgoblins, but I killed the orcs instead. What if the orcs had never driven away the hobgoblins like I had assumed?

And in the first place, if there's hobgoblins, doesn't that mean there's a captured elf somewhere?

Margaret sees me thinking. [As long as we're together, Laurus, we can make it through.]

She's holding on to my arm.

Her breasts! Her breasts are right there and squishing into me!

Don't look. Don't look.

[Ahem.] Kiko says, and Margaret immediately lets go of me.

They're all kinda cold from me lately, and they're keeping their distance.

I expect it from Sylphie, but not from the others.

They must be disappointed in me after all.

[Here it is.] The little demon says. [The baronet's hotspring retreat.]

[Hotspring retreat? You said you would take us to your master.] Kiko points her katana at him.

[Oh, silly!] The demon laughs. [The Baronet knows where you are. I am his familiar after all! If you wish to face him, you cannot go after him, you must make him come to you. Voila! His lordship's only hotspring.]

[Stay where you are.] I say to the demon, and take the others aside. [What do you think?]

[Hmmpf. It's obviously a trap.] Kiko says.

[Right. And how do we handle traps?]

[Spring 'em.] Elma says, bashing her large barbarian fists together. [Fight our way out.]

[Not with Sylphie here,] Kiko says, [she's not a high ranking adventurer like us. We'd be endangering her.]

I think about it deeply. [Tina, can you use your magic to determine the threat level of this hotspring?]

[Oh, uhm, sure.] She adjusts her mage glasses and casts [Greater Analysis]. [There are no powerful creatures inside the hotsprings right now.

The goblin boss will likely send an army to encircle it later.]

[Good. Then we can defend it as our homebase. Sylphie will be safe inside. Don't you think so, Sylphie?]

[Oh, uh.. mhm.] She nods.

[Then it's settled. We'll let the enemy come to us.]

The truth is...

It's been really long since I've been to an onsen!

This world has no onsens. Everybody showers, and nobles use bathtubs.

I really look forward to a relaxing evening in a hot spring before fighting the hobgoblin army.

-

The demon leads us up the path towards the hot spring.

It's filled with uneven rocks that the pegasi can't walk on. And it's not like they can gently hover, if they're going to fly it's gotta be over the treetops.

[I'm leaving you here Shadow.] I say to my pegasus. [You warn us when they come to ambush us, right?]

He whinnies dutifully.

[You too, Lady.] Margaret says.

And soon all the pegasi are left outside, to guard us.

The stairs lead us to the main entrance.

It is covered using a curtain.

Woah! It's just like a real onsen!

[Thou seemeth strangely happy to be here.] Sylphie says.

An otherworlder wouldn't get it.

Inside the building there is a reception for receiving guests.

The demon goes up to the counter before us and rings the bell.

Nobody comes out.

[Huh? It's deserted?] I ask.

But as soon as I come up to the counter, a shadow appears from behind the curtain.

The woman that comes out is so beautiful!

She's an elf, with long blonde hair to her waist.

Her build is lithe, but she is developed like Margaret.

She's weairing a sarong around her hips and a bikini top.

[Oooh? New customers?] She asks.

[Occupiers actually,] the demon says, [these adventurers want to kill the Baronet.]

[That's a pity,] the elf sighs, [but understandable. I am but a humble bath-house overseeer. I hope you can spare me, being a civilian.]

[Of course we can.] Margaret says, [but, are you an elf? Were you spared from the attack?]

[No. This one beith not one of our kin.] Sylphie says, [never hath I seen her face in the village.]

[That is true.] The older elf says, [my name is Rubelle. I come from a foreign country. I can not claim to understand the depth of the loss you feel.

But I want to tell you I sympathize. I only work for the Baronet to earn a living, I owe him no loyalty.]

[She doesn't talk weird like Sylphie does at all.] Kiko whispers.

Rubelle claps her hands. [Perhaps I can interest you in our hotspring services? On the house, of course.]

Yes please!

Dryad

Family: Plants

Threat Level: D

Reward: 2 gold pieces

Dryads are woodland protectors. They only become hostile when the land is polluted or ravaged and should not be attacked in their peaceful state.

They can be recognized by their wooden bodies and womanly shape. Each dryad carries a core of amber that is the source of her power. The amber of a dryad is a rare potion ingredient that may be sold at the adventurers' guild.

Dryads have the Treewalk ability, and are thusly able to meld into trees. This allows them to ambush adventurers in forested areas and more easily evade attack. An ambush of hostile dryads can contain anywhere between three and eight dryads, and is an omen of hostile fairies. If an encounter with dryads was not expected, a party should reconsider its expedition after encountering them.