Mez tapped his foot out of frustration. Not his usual calm self, the rogue was quite upset with the current trail of events that had reached him to this conclusion. Only a few months after being released into the world by the Adventurer’s Guild known only as Taunch, Mez had already performed less than adequately on his last two missions. Most recently his original partner, Darek, a  fellow rogue, was reassigned to a more lucrative area while Mez was sent to be sent to another assignment with a different partner.

And Mez knew the truth of the move, it was a demotion. It was a lateral move to a less lucrative area with probably little wealth to be gained from reputation. There were only two things that Taunch cared about, building reputation in the far reaches of Mutzi and earning gold, most of which was collected by the more senior members of the guild as dues for favors and other assistance while adventuring.

Mez sat at the corner of a bar in a small inn at a settlement on the outskirts of a region unknown to Mez. He had been travelling many days and shown wear for his woes. He wore a black, short brim hat with a once white now turned brown from dust and grime band going around it. A brown, low cut shirt covered his leather armor that adorned both his chest and legs. His black pants were muddy and worn, showing frayed edges that brushed at the tops of his brown leather boots. Behind him flowed a black jacket with that

stopped just above the top of his boots. It mainly served the purpose to conceal the six daggers he kept along his back in sheaths attached to a belt that belted into his shirt. The first two of these daggers pointed outwards just below Mez’s shoulder blades. The other four sat just above the small of his back also facing in a manner that would make it easy  for Mez to go from a calm posture to hands on the hilts of his weapons in a blink of an eye.

Or so he though anyways. Apparently Taunch believed Darek to be the superior rogue, and therefore sent him to the trade peninsula to pursue opportunities there. While Taunch usually allowed most members to adventure freely and would only appear when it was time to collect dues or pass information, there are times where the needs of the guild would necessitate the strategic placement of

members. Although usually such assignments entailed seeking strong, young, ambitious and most importantly potentially powerful members to attend one of their various academies spread out across Mutzi dedicated to training these recruits in the ways of the guild and to hone their gift that was discovered by their recruiter.

For Mez it had been his deft hand at acquiring one such recruiters bag of gold right from under his sash that started his path that has now led him to sitting in this very inn, awaiting the arrival of another guild member, who was probably also found in a similar way. “Your life or your death, you decide”. Mez remembered the guild member telling him as he stared down the pointed end of the most amazing sword he had ever seen a man carry. Although Mez was only 11 years of age then, he was one of many orphans who ran the streets of his town getting food and coin any way they could. They were orphans to the ever growing threat right outside the gate that kept most of the humans of the keep on the correct side of the walls. But

every human city was intimate with war, Mez’s was no different.

While the guild member always knew Mez was approaching him from behind, could feel the child’s mischievous intent emanating off his eager frame, he

instantly took note to how quiet this one’s approach was,  for one his age and of no formal training. So his experiment a success, seeing the child had the potential to make a fine guild member, he allowed him to make a go at his bag, and promptly punched him in the back of the head as he tried to make his hasty retreat down an alleyway, sending him sprawling to the ground. “To deny me the coin for food is death anyways, what does it matter” and he spat on the ground close to the man’s feet to emphasize his disdain towards the situation.

Mez touched himself on the neck as he vividly remembered then the man walking right up to him and pricking him  right below the chin with the tip of that magnificent sword. Blood dripped freely from the wound and down the sword and to the ground. “Do you not desire strength? The strength to not have to beg for your meals?” The man calmly spoke to Mez as he adjusted his position to come  eye to eye with him from across the sword. “Would you rather my sword or a feast celebrating your entrance into a world you never knew open to you slide into your throat tonight?”. 8 years later and Mez had never eaten so well still. That next day he was on the back of a horse and  within a tenday he was training at the Taunch School for Rogues.

It was the approaching sounds of footsteps that broke Mez out of his silent contemplation. He looked up from his glass, still half filled with the ale that was originally poured for him an hour earlier, as a human figure strolled through

the entrance. A woman of no particular interest other than the fact that she was a woman at an inn which typically only seen men patrons due to its secluded location in a town where the farmers probably were required to fight on a regular basis without the protection of an army. She wore a full length wizard’s robe, black fading to white as it flowed to the ground, six intertwined dragons was the design stitched across the chest of the robe. Mez knew this design to be the symbol of his secretive guild, to see it boldly worn out in public was unusual to say the least.

The rogue turned back to the bar, and at that moment he was the only man in the establishment not eyeing the stranger who had just entered. She sat at a position across from the three sided bar from Mez, two chairs to the left as the emissary from the guild explained. She looked up at  him from under her upturned hood. Deep brown eyes locked with his, the wizard then willed them to change  color in the blink of an eye to one blue eye and one red eye, then back to brown. That was the signal, Mez knew, not  that he needed it with that robe she was wearing. He  flashed a hand sign to silently notify his soon to be partner that he had acknowledged the signal and to continue with the next phase. She gave him an inquisitive look which meant to tell Mez that she had little understanding of what he had just signed. Hand signals had recently been incorporated into the training of the various schools of Taunch after extensive research was done into the history  of the dark elves by the guild. Although their hand signs

were nowhere near as complex as those used by the drow, it did serve its purpose in communicating quickly and  silently. It seemed unusual that a guild member wouldn’t know the intricate language, but it also seemed unusual for  a guild member to walk into an inn where a covert meeting was supposed to take place wearing guild attire. He began  to wonder, if she was actually an imposter.

He threw down a few copper pieces for the drink, and made his way to the stairwell that would lead to the room that the guild had set up for his meeting. He gave not a glance to   the wizard, in case this one proved indeed to be an  imposter, he didn’t want to give any clue to his suspicions.

Mez sat in a corner of the small room that was adorned  with a bed, table, and chair. A thick layer of dust coated the entire room, while it appears to be used often; the room hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. He gave a side glance  to the bed and could only imagine how many germs and various bodily fluids it contained. A shudder went down his spine and he turned his focus back to the door. Through the door strolled the wizard from downstairs, Mez felt comfortable that the small size of the room allowed him the advantage in case this wizard did in fact end up being an imposture. He sat with his arms crossed at his waist, his hands only inches away from the hilts of the daggers  located on the top of the small of his back.

The wizard stopped right in front of Mez, only two strides from the entrance, and bowed gracefully. “Well met, Mez the Unremarkable”. Mez winced at the sound of his official title with the guild, one he felt he unfairly earned during schooling. “Indeed....” he motioned for her to also give her name. “Rasia the Firedancer” she promptly responded with a wide, disarming grin.

Rasia sat and removed the hood of her robe, exposing long, bouncy, bright red curls. She wasn’t as dark skinned as him, but she had a tan tint to her complexion as if she had also come from an area of perpetual heat and sun. Her eyes had changed to a lighter, hazel color, the beauty of which wasn’t diminished by the various scars and cuts she carried along her face and arms. Rasia was also a human, he noted,

and also of young age. "She couldn’t be a day over 18 winters" Mez thought to himself has she sat down at the chair adjacent to his, her curls bouncing playfully and her smile beaming.

“It’s not often that you see human wizards, especially one as young as yourself,” Mez skeptically commented. “Well unlike you rogues, wizards aren’t actually considered released from school when we begin taking assignments,” she explained “I will have to return to school from time to time to receive additional instruction. I’m excited to start our first mission together though, when do you think Taunch will contact us next?” Rasia was eager and bubbling full of excitement.

“First mission,” Mez mouthed under his breath. He didn’t like the sound of that, although he was relatively new to adventuring, he didn’t like the idea of taking on a fresh fish from the school. At second glance, he deduced that the robe she was wearing was probably school uniform. He also wore a similar pant and vest combination when he was in school but discarded it immediately after being released.

He looked back up at her “get rid of the robe” he announced after a few moments of silence.

“Why?”

“You attract attention, our jobs are usually easier if we attract less attention.”

“But are we not here to build reputation?” Rasia asked, and for the first time since they met, scrutinized the rogue that sat before her. As with Mez, she was also not told anything about the meeting other than the details of how they would identify one another and what to do once that identification was made. Rasia had expected to be teamed up with a  senior wizard as most apprentice wizards usually were until her field training was complete, so she didn’t expect Mez to

be sitting at the other end of that bar that evening.

“Our jobs are easier accomplished when done so with discretion,” Mez replied coldly and in a way that would end any further discussion on the topic. Rasia gave him a stare that edged on threatening, then she rose and slowly

removed her robe, exposing her skin tight leather breeches that accentuated the curves of her hips and thighs, a red blouse that buttoned from top to bottom that matched her hair. Her arms showed many scars and burn marks then what Mez originally noticed on her hand, neck and face. She wasn’t slender, but her build was athletic for a female. Tight leather boots completed the outfit; Mez also noticed a small blade attached to her ankle running along the boot. He had never seen a wizard carry such a weapon, which only made him question the abilities of his partner that much more.

“For someone who has seen no battles, you sure seem like you’ve taken a hit or two,” Mez smirked as the words left his mouth. “Well it is known that mage training is more, uhm, intense, than that of the rogues,” Rasia returned the smirk which then erased the one off of Mez immediately. This only made Rasia begin laughing.

“I see you two are getting along already,” a strong male’s voice entered the room but his presence was not known to either Mez or Rasia. Rasia immediately dropped into some semblance of a defensive posture.  Although she didn’t

reach for her sidearm, her hands shot out wide and she

began mumbling the first verse of a spell. Mez remained seated, unmoving, unthreatened by the disembodied voice. “Do they not teach you anything about real operations in that school of yours?” Mez said to Rasia, the whole question dripping with condescending sarcasm. “How do you think Taunch communicates with adventurers on the

road? Hawk?” as he said that Mez stood and faced what Rasia now noticed to be a growing shadow in the corner of the room.

A figure walked out of the shadow, much smaller than the voice led on to be. A Halfling, wearing the finest blue and yellow cloth armor Rasia had ever seen. Blonde hair flowed down around his uncharacteristically slender face which made his bulbous nose stand out that much more. Which  the Halfling was obviously proud of since he possessed various loop, stud, and dangling rings all along the nostrils. When the Halfling turned to regard Mez his blue and  yellow cape flowed perfectly as if it magically extended not to impede the Halfling. He wore rings on every finger on  his hand, some of them glowing, but outshined by the

bands of what appeared to be gold and silver. Although Rasia’s knowledge of magical items was still elementary, she deduced that each one of those rings had magical

properties. And as if to complete the ensemble, in his left ear the Halfling possessed more rings of various shapes and types which included one that dangled from his ear lobe  and seemed to get lost in his hair.

“Well met, Taunch,” Mez bowed, although the tone of his voice betrayed his obvious feelings of disdain towards the Halfling. “Humor me Mez the Unremarkable, why is it that Darek has achieved such greatness since leaving the school, yet here you are, dirty, smelly, an embarrassment to the guild. Why do I waste my time assisting you?”

Mez remained in his low bow, his face blushing with rage. Rasia, who by now had stopped spellcasting and just watching, recalling what she was told by her mentor before leaving to meet her first partner. She knew that every guild member was given a guild title after being released from the school and it would only change when a new one was earned. She knew Mez to only be a few months ahead of

her in adventuring so his title was likely his first. So what did he do in school to earn such an abysmal title? Apparently whatever it was continued to follow him because this seemingly high ranking member of the guild was talking down to him as if he was on the edge of expulsion, Rasia thought. She hoped his luck didn’t rub off.

“Aahh yes, because Taunch is forever charitable. And I couldn’t stand to see you waste the talents that we spent so hard training you to perfect so you can go out and support those who would want to follow in your footsteps,”

“And those who have, it would seem. Or are all those rings you wear spoils of war. Did you pull each one of those off of a corpse of a man you killed Taunch?” Mez dared to say, still in his bow.

“Most,” the Halfling chuckled, he held out his hands and began admiring them “although I admit a few are gifts from strong adventurers. Oh much stronger than you Mez the Unremarkable I assure you. This one for instance,” the Halfling held his arm straight out so it rested right under Mez’s bowed head, with the other hand he pointed to his pinky to a sparkling silver band with small stone set in it. But it appeared to be more than a stone, inside the stone waves appeared to be splashing back and forth. “This one was acquired by the great Darek-” he stopped suddenly and looked up as if to recall something very important, than a smile appeared on his blemish free face and his blue eyes began to sparkle. “Oh, has no one told you Darek’s new title?”

Rasia was beginning to feel insulted for the stoic Mez, who was standing there taking a verbal beating for a reason unknown to her. She began to step up and stand up for her new partner but before she could get a word in the Halfling

dramatically snapped a hand up towards her and no words came out. At first panic swept over the wizard until she realized that all sound had ceased around her, the boards didn’t creak when she walked and the heavy breathing of Mez was silenced.

“I am talking now!” boomed the Halfling, although there appeared to be no extra effort in his speech. Surely if the room hadn’t been magically silenced the boards would of shook. “Darek Waverider the Goblinbane!,” he continued at the same volume “He is growing a great name for our guild and you walk around looking like a street urchin barely able to pick a pocket.”

A slew of retorts came to Mez’s mind at that moment. Although it didn’t matter since he was magically silenced anyways. Considering that he was use to receiving more lectures than praises in his short time as a professional adventurer, he was use to the tactics used by Taunch’s emissaries to express the anger of the organization.

“Get to Fallcrest in the Cyrilwood Plains,” he continued in a calmer but still magically enhanced voice, “we have little invested in that region. So if you mess up there won’t be much to clean up. Grow our reputation and earn some

damned gold so you can pay dues. Or else you will earn your dues by way of volunteer cleaning services for one of the brothels we pay for information. And put a damned uniform on, never again do I want to see you not wearing an item of clothing that has our brand on it.”

The Halfling held out his hand with his palm down and from it dropped two packs and two sets of clothing appropriate for a male and female human. A black and red travelling jacket the same length of Mez’s was included. On the back of it, the six intertwined dragons that made up

the guild’s symbol. “Guarantee this is the last charity you will receive from us Mez the Unremarkable,” As he finished the sentence, the darkness around him began to spread again, and soon breathing was heard in the room again.  Mez stood back up to see a confused and exasperated Rasia staring at him. “And you should get a move on; it appears you have company...” the disembodied voice of the Halfling remarked but sounding as if he was much further away.

“Was that Master Taunch?!” Rasia suddenly blurted out. “Hardly, just an emissary,” he replied.

“But you referred to him as Taunch”

“You are required to refer to all emissaries of Taunch as Taunch; their will is the will of the organization, their word the word of Master Taunch himself. It not always the same person, but their entrance is always the same. Some are nicer than others, he’s one of the nice ones.”

“Him?”

“Well when you aren’t on a cold streak” “That’s what you call it?”

Mez’s response was interrupted by the sounds of four pairs of feet heavily stomping down the hall but in an attempt to silence their footfalls. Both adventurers stopped and

listened to see if the footsteps would stop at a room further

up the hall. The reservation of a room at the end of the hall was not an accident. A loud and self-defeating “Shhh” from one of the people approaching confirmed that the Halfling was correct in his advisement on his departure.

Rasia’s hand began to glow blue and Mez’s hands went to the hilts of the daggers on the top of the small of his back. “Oi! little brat. We know you bought yaself a wench. Be a good lad and open the door so we can partake on ye tab or else we’ll open it for ye and neither of ye walks out with

any coin at all,” lewd laughter echoed down the hallway. Mez heard the thug press his head up against the door as if he was waiting for a response. Mez responded by throwing one of his daggers into the door, it went right through and stuck into the face of the thug. A hush came over the hallway; it was obvious that the other thugs in the hallway were reconsidering their current course of action. Rasia looked over to Mez, her mouth wide open in a dumbfounded expression. Mez nodded towards the door “Well, are you going to do something?” he calmly pointed to her hand, still glowing blue, and back at the door. “Oh...right” she stammered.

The door was blown off its hinges by the force of Rasia’s magical bolt. The thugs fell back to shield themselves from the fragments of door flying at them, but they hadn’t even unsheathed their swords by time Mez let loose another the daggers, each striking center mass on each of the thugs. Mez and Rasia slowly strolled out their room, packs on their backs with the newly acquired clothing hastily strapped on top. Mez began removing the daggers from the corpses. The original thug looking the worst of the bunch, the dagger penetrated right through his ear, and if that didn’t kill him instantly the explosion surely did. He lay on the floor with his head twisted around so that it was facing his back. Rasia turned away from the grotesque sight and noted that Mez had already replaced the four thrown

daggers and had two more daggers with larger hilts in his hands. “I think it’s time for us to leave,” Mez remarked and started walking back towards the stairs.

The looks on the faces of the patrons remaining in the inn verified Mez’s fear that the explosion had been too loud and that the entire inn was aware that a battle had just took place. The growing shouts and sounds of chairs being shuffled about followed them as they left and hastily

walked down the street.

“That magic bolt of yours was entirely too loud. What did I say about discretion?” Mez snapped at Rasia as they  walked down the hill towards the residences that led to the intersection that the town was built around. The town

proper mainly consisted of small, flat, one story houses. Off in the distance amongst the rolling hills farms were placed, larger houses could be seen dotting the tops of some of those hills. The town itself only existed as a trading point where two major trading routes intersected. The   intersection itself contained a small market.

“You didn’t even have to kill him! We could've taken them in hand to hand combat. Maybe their threats were a bluff,” Rasia retorted with equal venom in her voice. Mez turned hard on her and stared her directly in the eye. “If you spend your life guessing the truth behind bluffs instead of acting upon them then I assure you that life will be a short one,”

Mez said with all seriousness

“...says Mez the Unremarkable” Rasia responded unceremoniously, as she crossed her arms across her chest. Mez scowled and turned to continue walking down the hill. Mez noticed that in the short time it took them to walk  down the hill, many more houses shown candlelight than earlier. The evening grew late and he knew such a small town wouldn’t have so much activity going on unless an event of interest had just occurred. “Like the murdering of four of their own by outsiders...” he said to himself out loud as he stopped to regard their surroundings again. People were peering from slats behind closed shutters. A silence hung in the cold evening air. Soon the air would turn  colder, Mez was never a fan of the winter. Rasia strode up next to him a moment later.

“You continue down the road, I will pace you and cover your flanks from the rooftops,” Mez whispered to Rasia. “We should just both disappear from sight”

“That would only work if we hadn’t already been spotted”

“Where are they?” “Everywhere”

With that Mez performed a backwards somersault into the air and on top of one of the structures. Against the backdrop of the night sky, Mez was near invisible and only moments later Rasia could not spot him at all.

Rasia had hoped to rest before setting back out. Her trip to the town with no name that sat at the intersection had taken her two straight days of travelling with very little sleep and rations just to make it on time. Before she was even able to order any food at the inn Mez had sent her the signal to begin the meeting and now here they were fleeing the town like criminals when they were the ones who were assaulted. Well not really, Rasia thought, the thugs never did get a chance to defend themselves.

The town filtered down to just a few houses and smaller farms if you took the road south. East led to a mountainous region and west was the direction Rasia came from, where the road was dry and with little shade. Plains and small shrubs was all she saw for scenery for the duration of her trip.

Rasia reached the town’s intersection at the same time two men carrying swords wearing farmer’s attire entered the intersection. Their pace betrayed their behavior; they were surely supposed to meet her at that very point.

“Hey lady, slow down. Around these parts you respond when addressed by the local militia”. One of the farmers

called out to her as the other one slowly drew his sword. “Your friend doesn’t look in the talking mood,” Rasia responded as she turned to face the men who had

approached her from the west. “News from the inn says ye got yaself in a little trouble tonight, care to explain yaself?” said the man whose sword was drawn. The other farmer stood with his hand on the hilt of his weapon, the ease of his voice not showing in the tension that showed in his posture. These two came to fight, Rasia knew, “And where did ye friend go!” the guard asked forcefully after Rasia  had realized that she never responded to the first question.

“That man is no friend of mine, and those men in the inn were killed in self-defense, I accept no guilt for their fates,” Rasia turned to walk away after her confident claim, assuming that Mez was somewhere watching her back to make sure a sword wasn’t plunged into it at that very moment. Sure enough both men began to approach her  from behind as a third appeared from the side of a small shack. Rasia began to channel another magic bolt to strike the guy until she noticed the dagger sticking out from behind his head. She snatched the dagger out from the back of the man’s head as he continued his zombie like, wide eyed stroll to oblivion. The man must have had no idea of where he was or what had transpired but a few seconds  later he fell face first into the dirt to die, eyes still bulged.

Mez dropped down from a rooftop and plunged a dagger right into the neck of the farmer who hadn't yet drawn his sword. The one who did sensed his aerial approach and instinctively put his blade up to block the attack and managed to stumble back and out the way. With the dagger buried deep in the neck of the twitching farmer and the other dagger free, Mez began approaching the other farmer with the body dragging behind. The farmer threw a straight thrust as soon as Mez was within range but Mez used the

farmer’s fallen comrade as a flesh shield. So while it felt as if he had made solid contact, when the farmer looked up from his blow he only saw the back of his friend, his sword driving right into the spine.

Mez ripped his dagger out of the man’s throat and spun to place it in the throat of the other but he was suddenly jolted back by an unknown force. A bright searing light and intense heat is all Mez knew for those first few moments. He retreated behind a few houses and stumbled to the ground. His feet shook and teeth clattered, every hair on his body felt as if it was standing on end. “So this is what it feels like to be shot by lightning” Mez said out loud, to the pile of horse droppings he began to brush off the front of his shirt. He leaned on the wall and attempted to gain his composure. He needed to get back out there and assist Rasia, he knew, but as he took his first step, his knees buckled under him and he hit the ground again.

Rasia followed the streak of bright light to its source; a plain looking human male standing on a rooftop about two buildings down from the intersection. She let loose a magical bolt his way and went into chanting as she sprinted to the left to make space between her and the other farmer who was now approaching her since Mez had been taken out of commission. The farmer made chase as Rasia moved towards the building closest to the mage to gain cover. Rasia spun back around when her back was to the wall of the structure to see the farmer coming straight on sword in hand and Rasia with no way of defending herself. The spell she had channeled was too dangerous to use is such close quarters and she hadn’t yet prepared any more magic bolts. She never imagined her adventuring career would end so early.

It had to fly true, and it did. Over two merchant booths the

dagger flew end over end, its final destination being the  side of the face of the farmer that was chasing Rasia. The farmer fell back and howled in pain, his thrust being cut short by the dramatic turn of events. Rasia stared down the length of his short sword. Inches from her chest, if for only a brief moment before her attacker fell over; she saw her death staring her right in the face. As the farmer fell over in swears and protests she retrieved his dropped sword and placed it through his chest before he could begin to recover.

A moment of elation swept over Rasia, a bright smile beamed across her face. That is until her first kill looked back up at her. The man looked so pathetic, even without the dagger in the face and being covered in blood, she thought. This man was no great warrior or evil villain or goblinkin on the other end of the sword she held. Just a man, who probably had no idea that these outsiders would enter his home on this day and end his life. Great grief came across Rasia at that point. She watched the man’s final moments, the extinguishing of that last flicker of life

behind his eyes. She just stood there then; she didn’t notice

the lightning strike go soaring past her.

Mez dive rolled hard and broke into a sprint as the wizard disguised as a peasant continued to strike bolt after bolt in an attempt to incapacitate the nimble rogue. Mez slid  behind a building right as another blinding flash struck at the corner of it, blowing debris and rubble down the alley Mez had retreated into. Mez was sweaty and bleeding from multiple small wounds. He was breathing hard and hadn’t the willpower to recover himself from the trash and wood he found himself under. If that wasn’t the worst of it he began to hear the cursing of many angry males making  their way towards his location, probably ready to blame the outsider for the damage to their house before the resident wizard, he thought. He had no idea if Rasia was ok or if his dagger had reached in time or if it had even struck true. She

might be dead, he thought. While that thought didn’t sadden him, he was regretting how he was going to explain to Taunch how he managed to get his fresh out of school wizard killed within hours of their partnership.

“Where’s the rat! We’ll run a pike up his arse for bringing trouble to the crossroads,”

“There was another one too, a female, where did she go?!” “Find them!”

The shouts from villagers marked the awakening of the entire village. Janir, the wizard who had engaged the pair in combat (and as Mez expected the resident wizard of the small colony) smirked as he hopped down from the small building that had served as his command point for the ambush. He had a general idea of where he had downed the rogue and was going to move in to finish him off and have first dibs at any “spoils-of-war”. Then he would move to loot the corpse of that female that he watched disappear under the building with one of his thugs, never to come  back out. Maybe if she wasn’t dead yet he would have his way with her before killing her, he thought and his smirk turned into a full on smile. Janir knew his worth to the  small community that had appeared only in the past few years. First as a security block sent out by the local nationstate to secure the road from bandits and to open it  for more lucrative trade. Eventually the “security” turned out to be as dirty as the bandits they were hired to defend against and the law of the land became to listen to whoever had the most power. So easy it was for Janir to walk into town and display his magical prowess and immediately find himself a high ranking member of the corrupt local militia.

“You should have let my boss rape her,” the mage began to speak aloud as he strolled down the alleyway, confident  that he was in close proximity of the rogue. “They would of

had fun, she would of had fun, I’m sure they would've let you watch”,” Janir began to laugh at that statement. He wore a lewd smile on his face, “You know you might of even been able to join, after they were all done of course, but instead, here you are, about to die, just like that wench!”

“Jump!”

That’s all Rasia had to say, she knew. She knew Mez had been watching her approach from the rubble. She knew he would be ready to react when she gave the signal; maybe it was their training or her growing confidence in a man who had saved her life twice that day. But at that very instant Mez leaped high and far into the air. He twisted and turned into a somersault onto the nearest rooftop right as Rasia let loose a Fire blast down the alley, Janir had nowhere to run, and no spells prepared to protect himself. Totally caught off guard, he didn’t even manage to get a scream out before he was incinerated.

Rasia stared down the alleyway in awe, a small tear found itself on her face as she watched the husk of the man once known as Janir fall away to ashes. Buildings on both sides of the alley had caught fire and the sounds of approaching villagers were upon them. “Let’s go!” Mez screamed as he threw his hand down to Rasia. Awakening from her daze she reached up and grabbed it and they sprinted from rooftop to rooftop out into the night and out of the settlement.

The sun was high in the sky before the pair stopped moving. They had ran the trail for the few hours of night that remained and then took to the wilderness as the sun came up, taking detours and doubling back a few times to cover their tracks. They finally made camp at the edge of a

tree line. Rasia fell out on her bedroll immediately after setting it, while Mez took a position in the trees to maintain watch and apply bandages, although he was asleep only a few minutes later. He awoke hours later to the sight of Rasia preparing some of the rations from their packs, the sun hung low, sunset was almost at its end, he realized.

“Have you healed? We should eat and get on the road soon,” Rasia said as she looked up to Mez. “I’ll live,” Mez responded as he hopped down from the tree. Rasia and Mez exchanged stares, at first a short glance but then immediately re-met for a much longer time. Rasia’s expression was blank and unreadable. Mez began to scowl, but then realized that she wasn’t angry at him, but she wanted him to say something, but he didn’t know what. But Mez knew that look, he knew it very well. He just hoped that whatever caused it, Rasia would come back to her wits soon. He hoped she would handle it better than he had.

~~

“That was a very lucrative trade area, I want to know what happened,” a very angry half-orc leaned over to a come eye to eye with a much smaller by comparison human who was on the brink of urinating on himself in fear of angering the boss of their band of bandits. “th-th- they burned it!” he barely squeaked out. The small camp shuffled around nervously, knowing the murderous rage possessed by their leader Udogold Winterclaw. Udogold grabbed the human by the neck and lifted him from the ground with one large, grotesque, misshapen hand that was attached to a disproportionately large arm. He began to squeeze the human who then began voiding his bowels for all to see.