Cassida's private office was a cradle she found an all too familiar comfort within. It had turned into a habit of late; finding any excuse to escape the sour reports of death, missing adventurers, and new callers pestering her about Nyathamon. All of that, coupled with the everyday management of the Guild, left her losing years of life by stressful days end.

"Cursed Old Man. 'Yir Gran'mama was a bar wench that gave back-alley rides!" She rubbed at her temples with practiced hands.

Of course, this had all stemmed from the Guildmaster's hands. He had left her with a pile of work a mountain high, and twice the makeup in pure Goblin feces. It wasn't shiny, it wasn't glamorous; there were no rough, uncut gems just waiting to be uncovered by a lucky pick-stroke. No- it was a bottomless pit of paperwork and grim conversations on the daily.

A crinkly page of parchment laid before her on the desk; crumpled, resmoothed, and crumpled again. Her weary eyes occasionally glanced down at it before she would grimace and close her eyes again. Finally, after a few rounds of that, she ground her teeth and picked it up to give it a straight, head-on read.

"...A black liquid of unknown origin is spreading from miles down in the Drake-Grave Mountains. Overall advance appears to have stopped—for now. Proximity to PanQuil is uncertain, but within 10 or so miles is my guide's best estimation. I've personally witnessed one unfortunate man touch the stuff. We had to amputate his arm from the elbow 'lest it spread further—DO NOT TOUCH UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES! We recommend pulling all contracts related to the immediate, 20-mile radius of PanQuil until we can assemble a team of experts to come identify this blight—this is out of the realm of PanQuil's ability to handle in my opinion. Warning: fire causes the stuff to retract, but if contact is made it will pop in a black droplet shower!

Gods help us, or whoever likely. I've never seen anything like it.

Scoutsman Timors"

The paper fell away from her loosened fingers, back once again to the messy desk. Her eyes squirmed in their sockets. A moment later, a deadly focus bored a hole through the door when a subtle knock came from it. The tension caused her to stand up like she was under attack, knocking over stacks of paperwork in the process as she clutched at her sheathed bastard sword.

"Guildmistress? Is everything all right in there? Ahem. I just thought I'd let you know; the adventurers want to talk to you. They await your presence in the commons area. They mostly wish to know why so many adventurers have gone missing or been killed recently from what I gather—seems a sign-on agreement of the trade, no? A few talk like they know more, stirring the groups up with weird rumors about some black goo-monster or something. Ha-ha, the things adventurer's think up, right mistress?"

Her death grip on the sword lasted but a second, but in that moments she seriously considered running away. Down the elevator to the forest floor below. Off into the hills and plains near Groanmarket. She would build herself a quiet little home, by a gentle little stream, surrounded by harmless wildlife. Best of all, not a single person or scrap of bother-making.

Cassida's eyes glazed over as she smiled for the first time in the past month before her grip resumed its white-knuckle tightness around the hilt upon the reassertion of reality.

"Die in a fire you lousy, inbred... pants-shitter! Can't I even..." her voice petered out into low, barely audible grumbles.

The door slammed shut as she stomped right past the rigid, board-straight man without a look or gesture of apology.

***

Some might say, that the commons room of any Adventurer's Guild was bound to be a loud, obnoxious place. Full of sound, and furious personality with every footstep taken. Men and women of every race, calling, or creed, all mixed up inside one building was bound to cause a treasure trove of fighting. But the commotion Cassida stepped into was beyond anything she had ever seen.

Collars were grabbed. Weapons were bandied about. Many a finger went pointing and poking into soft ribs and targets around the lengthy room. Insensitive slurs and commentary were tossed out from atop tables from fight ready provocateurs and know-nothing drunkards alike. Still, past the surface-level, even more faces in the crowd wore a quiet expression—like overwet petals that threatened to blacken on the branch at any moment.

Cassida took a deep, steadying breath as she stepped out into the crowded room. Behind the clerk counter, a wooden step box brought her up to summit the counter. Some took notice right away, but others would require a more persuasive approach. As she watched on, the yelling and, eventually, all noise entirely fell away. She stood there in a soundproof state. Their actions took on a desperate desire, a great burning need to know what was going on.

"Where's my husband? He went out with you!"

"What happened to my daughter? You said you'd train her, not killed!"

"Why did I lose sight of her..."

"It was all going so well, when did it start?"

The cloud-form of individual questions and concerns rampaged on. A stampede of competing queries and accusations born from knowledgeless grief. She clenched her gauntleted fist and was reminded of Quintin—missing and quite possibly dead because she had let him go.

She was furious. Rage coursed through her as she screamed and punched full strength into a wooden post that divided the different clerk stations. It took the full brunt of her power and broke apart. Fragments in the form of wood splinters went in every direction. However, it had been her scream that proved to be far more effective at gaining the townsfolk and adventurer's attention.

As the crowd stood in shock-induced stillness, Cassida straightened up and spoke uneasily at first.

"We- this town, us adventurers. We have always come together during hard times, tell me that isn't so. I'll wait."

No one spoke. The more diehard fighters deflated after realizing a lot of the chaotic energy was gone now.

She gestured towards them with an open hand. "These last weeks have come unwelcomed by everyone and bears only the grimmest of news. But- it still fills me with pride to share these tunnels with such hardy, brave, and ultimately, courageous people such as yourselves. I will tell you everything I know and we can decide, together, as we always have, what to do about it."

From Cassida's lips, the people seemed to regain a portion of their former clarity. Doubt and confusion gave way to the promise of answers; sparse chuckles and slaps on the back resounded throughout the hall. A few of the more notably loud characters managed to lighten the mood even further.

A half-naked man shouted from a tabletop, "You bet your ass we're united!"

"My ass is still bleedin' from last time, please don't mention it!" came in response from the other side of the room.

Pockets of laughter broke the tense air, inbetween, quiet apologies quickly came and went. Eventually, all eyes were back on her, and the commanding air she exuded.

Cassida brought her hand up to quell the final few exchanges. "I only know how to tell it straight, you all know me. I'm sure the talk around town of late has been equally as straight given the recent display. To some of those unimaginable rumors, all I have to say is it's true: there is an encroaching darkness nearby our community here."

Cries of alarm erupted as her words ended. Most were distraught, a few smugly basked in the afterglow of vindication.

Some of the townsfolk had questions and had no problem giving them a voice.

"Wassat mean for us, exactly?"

A concerned woman clambered in place. "Can we do naught to stop it? Is there anything we can do?"

Weasely, a man put his arm around her, "If it be livin' we can set the dam lot-o-'em afire."

A portly man, gaudily dressed with gold chains screeched, "What about mah wares!?"

Cassida attempted to soothe the tide of voices by raising her own an octave or two above the pitch. "Before I answer any specific questions, I want you all to know that I've called for specialists to come. All I ask is you give me- and this town- the time required them to arrive. Also, I'll be enlisting some of my personal contacts in the coming days who can give us a better idea of what we face. The threat has a weakness to fire, but it seems to only cause it to draw back. This was reported by a brave scout and his team who have been fighting the beasts wrapped in darkness-"

"Shit-" she muttered under her breath and knew immediately that was one step too far. One she knew the adventurers would catch onto, and if she was unlucky, cause another round of shout-fighting.

As if on cue to her worries, a grizzled veteran adventurer spoke up. "Beasts. Wrapped up in darkness? I've never heard of such. What do you mean by that, exactly?"

An oblivious townsman with a scraggly, unkempt beard spoke out for her, "What's so new abouts a beast within the darkness? What's new with that, you twit! Let 'er keep talkin'!"

The clink of the adventurer's impressive armor spoke with him as he stood. "She said 'Beasts, Wrapped in darkness', you gigantic idiot!"

"Thems fightin' words, ya' rank diamond shit!"

And just like that, a fight broke out in that corner of the room. The hot-headed brawlers, who were just waiting for a spark on the tinder, jumped in and a full-blown fistfight ensued. Unity had left the building.

Cassida's brow creased, a permanent fixture of her face by this point. "Shit. I'm really not cut out for this shit."

There was no getting the crowd back to reason, at least not now. Multiple brawl pits were open on the floor. People beat the shit out of each other in their quest to regain some measure of lost control.

She got down from her elevated perch, taking a walk along the hallway to her office with the sound of violence behind her. Cassida would try as many times as it took. But maybe once everyone had calmed down a little and let out their brutal energies.