We hit the road later that morning bidding goodbye to Forge Town, but not before I picked up a new quest. I was itching to try out my daggers and there was tell of a gang robbing travellers on the road to Boggy Marsh, which just so happened to be our destination.

  “Apprehending highwaymen,” Rex announced after an hour of relative peace on the road. “I knew joining your party was the right the call. This is just the type of quest I need to solidify myself as a good adventurer.”

  “You don’t need to redeem yourself mate,” I replied lazily as I lounged on the sofa going through my stats and inventory. “You’re a good person who got pulled in by a charismatic despot, it could have happened to anyone.”

  “But it did happen to me,” Rex said, “and it’s my duty to correct that mistake the only way I know how; by killing some bad guys.”

  “I’m not sure the world is quite so black and white, but if it helps get you fired up for the fight then be my guest,” I smiled, shaking my head slightly.

  Bell strutted into the common area at that moment with Asmodeus perched on her head, puffing his chest out as if she was a prime stallion delivering him to his seat at court.

  “Azzy and I have had a great idea!”

  “Indeed, and this carriage will serve as the perfect vehicle for its success," the dragon added, an evil glint in his eyes.

  ***

  Grunt hid adeptly in the shrubbery overlooking the main road. His name wasn’t really Grunt, but as he was the newest member of the Band of Brigands he’d been dubbed the title until someone even greener joined up.

  He’d been with the Band for a little over two weeks now and though their methods weren’t the smartest and their goals not the most ambitious, he had come to enjoy their company.

  The nightly parties and array of delectable trollops King bought for them after a successful raid certainly helped to sweeten the deal.

  Waiting with bated breath, Grunt spotted their next mark. An oddly shaped, self-driving carriage painted in bright orange and decorated with badly drawn flower decal.

  “Look a’that,” Dirk whispered, a slight whistle leaking through the gap where his front incisor had once been. “Must be nobles, no pauper would pay to ‘av their carriage painted orange. It’s essenric.”

  “Eccentric,” Grunt corrected, “but you’re right. Only a noble would dare paint their carriage something so garish. It’s practically begging to be robbed.”

  “Then I guess we’ll be at their cervix,” Dirk grinned.

  “At their service,” Grunt correct, this time with a sigh.

  The pair began closing in on the garish carriage as Dirk signalled the rest of the Band through their shared party chat interface.

  Grunt hadn’t been added to it yet, he’d yet to pass initiation, but it didn’t matter. It simply meant there was less he needed to do during the raids.

  As they closed in, taking up position, Grunt noticed something odd on top of the carriage.

  Is that a chair… tied on with rope?

  Sitting in the chair, with her legs strewn over one of the arms, was a young maiden draped in a blood red robe. Even more peculiar was the black dragonling perched atop her head.

  Was it dead and she was wearing it as a hat? Surely not, though why would a young noble’s daughter – for that must have been what she was – be in the company of a dragonling.

  Something didn’t add up, but it wasn’t Grunt’s place to speak up. It was his duty to hide in the shrubs until it was time.

  From on the hillock, opposite Grunt’s location, a flaming wagon rolled down towards the road.

  With a paltry explosion, debris littered the stone path blocking it off almost entirely. For the orange carriage to continue forward, the servants would have to step out to clear it.

  Of course, Grunt had seen this tactic enough times to know that they wouldn’t get that chance.

  “Oh my,” a plain-looking peasant girl said as she scurried down the hillock after the flaming wagon. “Begging me pardon your ladyship, me wagon’s gone and blown up, it has!” She squealed, waving her arms frantically as she reached the main road.

  The noble woman atop the carriage smiled sinisterly and Grunt felt an odd tingle down his spine. Something was off about this raid, though he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

  “Peasant,” the dragon boomed in a voice unbefitting of its meagre stature. “You will clear this road at once, my servant and I have been charged with delivering copious amounts of gold to the next hamlet along this route. Your wagon is impeding our duty!”

  A tingle passed through Grunt once again, but this time it took second place to the shock he felt at listening to the pompous little blighter speak. He’d never heard a dragon speak before. Why did a baby dragon have such a deep voice?

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  “Oh my, a dragonling,” the peasant girl exclaimed, “I bet you’d fetch a good price at the market.”

  “Alas, no market has the funds to afford one such as I,” the dragon answered, “but the copious amounts of gold in this carriage could buy me twice over!”

  This time Grunt paid heed to that tingling feeling. Paying notice to the girl, he saw her nudge her head slightly as if warning the dragon.

  What was she trying to tell it? The obvious answer was that she was trying to stop it bragging about the supposed gold they carried, but Grunt got the feeling that wasn’t it.

  “We move on the next cue,” Dirk whispered, nudging Grunt hard in the ribs with his bony elbow. Whatever the tingling was trying to tell him would have to wait. There was about to be a bloodbath.

  “Did you say gold, Dragonling?” The peasant girl asked, a nasty smile curling on her lips, “well that won’t do at all. What’s a dragon supposed to do wi’ gold? Perhaps we should take it off your ‘ands. GET ‘EM BOYS!”

  In the blink of an eye the carriage was surrounded by dozens of armed men, screaming and charging down the embankments on either side.

  Grunt jumped to his feet and followed Dirk into the fray, drawing his short sword and readying a quick incantation in his free hand.

  “I can’t believe they fell for it,” the girl said, petting the dragon and standing upright on top of the carriage. “And after Kaleb was so sure they’d run the moment they saw you. Shows what he knows.”

  Her hands burst into flames and with a malicious grin she began throwing fireballs at the advancing Band of Brigands.

  Grunt ducked and tumbled onto the floor, rolling down the hill for a moment before landing hard on his back. Looking up he saw the shrubs burst into flame and heard the familiar clash of steel.

  These were no normal nobles.

  He heard screams and looked skyward to see the peasant girl, who he knew as Lilia, being carried high into the sky by the dragon. Its claws were imbedded in her shoulders and little droplets of blood rained down around them.

  “Let me go you lil’ pest!” She protested and the dragon complied, dropping her from height onto Dirk’s head.

  Grunt winced as they both turned to pulp. An odd thing about the human body; when dropped from high enough, it explodes… and it’s gross.

  “Burn, burn, burn!” The noble girl cackled as she tossed a barrage of flame at the brigands.

  Another, calmer noise caught Grunt’s attention and, as he crawled beneath the carriage, scared out of his mind, he caught sight of the other side of the battle where a massive lycanid cut down brigand after brigand in terrifyingly quick succession.

  He’d heard stories of the lycanid berserkers, but to see one in action was a truly frightening sight.

  I just need to stay under this carriage until it’s all over. They won’t find me here. I don’t want to die like that!

  Yet despite the fear pulsing through his mind and body in cold flushes, he couldn’t take his eyes away from the battle.

  As if in slow motion, a man stepped out of the carriage causing its chassis to bounce slightly. He was clad head to foot in black armour and wore a hood that obscured his face.

  He resembled one of the dreaded night terrors from the children’s fables and it was obvious that he was the leader of this group of monsters.

  Two daggers, black as night, were held loosely in his fists as he walked the battlefield seemingly unafraid… hungry for blood.

  Stepping up to Derrick, the brigand who had recruited Grunt from a local tavern, the armoured man clutched the back of his neck and drove one of the daggers through his throat.

  Squelching filled Grunt’s ears and he stifled a cry as he watched Derrick’s eyes widen in surprise before the skin around his neck began to bubble with petulant balls of puss which exploded, leaking green stuff down his chest.

  The skin seemed to disintegrate as the armoured man pulled his hand away and Derrick dropped to the floor, clutching wildly at his neck as his life drained from his very body.

  Grunt watched as the monsters slayed his Band, mowing them down without a care in the world. The killing seemed to come easily to them, the violence didn’t seem to bother them. And, perhaps most shockingly of all, the Band seemed like ants next to the monsters as they slaughtered them with ease.

  Eventually, the armoured man made his way across the valley of corpses to King, the Band’s leader. He was a mountain troll. Though not much taller than the average human, he was wide and had skin tougher than rock. Surely the armoured man would meet his match.

  “I take it you’re the leader?” The armoured man asked in a strange accent which Grunt did not recognise.

  “Name; King, you kill King’s men!” King roared, his eyes staring daggers at the man.

  “Well in all fairness, your men tried to rob us. I’d call it self-defence.”

  “Exactly! Rob, not kill. Not defence, murder.”

  “So you’re telling me that this isn’t the infamous Band of Brigands, known highwaymen in this area who torture and rape their victims?” The armoured man crossed his arms.

  “Torture? Maybe… rape? Not rape when they’s wants it. But not kill see? Yousis murder my Band!”

  “Did he really just say that?” The scarlet robed girl said as she jumped from the carriage’s roof. “Kaleb, did it say in the contract that we needed one alive?”

  “Unfortunately,” Kaleb, the armoured man replied, his voice full of venom.

  Grunt pulled himself further under the carriage and felt something soft prod at his leg. Looking down, his eyes widened as a small panda prodded him.

  “What’re you looking at, never seen a talking panda before?”

  “Ahhh!”

  The cry left his throat before he had time to stop it and he immediately threw his hands over his mouth, but it was too late.

  Less than a moment later a soft but strong hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him out from under the carriage, scraping his face in the mud.

  Hanging in mid-air like a bag of shit tied to a branch, Grunt swung as he stared down at the huge face of the lycanid berserker.

  “What do you have here?” He said in a low-pitched, partial growl.

  “I found him lurking under the camper… seems a bit of a pussy,” The panda said as it followed him out from beneath the carriage.

  “Well, that makes things easier,” the armoured man said, “Is he part of your band?” He asked King.

  “He Grunt, he new. Hasn’t spilled blood yet, doesn’t count as member till pass initiation.”

  “Perfect,” Kaleb replied in a chipper tone, “that makes this really easy. You see we have to keep one of you alive to fulfil the contract. Who do you think we should keep?”

  “I King, I leader of Band. Grunt no worth shit.”

  “It seems we have different definitions of worth,” the armoured man mused, “you see, I’m now left with the choice of capturing a noob who hasn’t done much wrong yet or keeping you alive. A troll who has, by his own admission, committed countless atrocities. Bell, do you want the honours?”

  “I’d be glad to,” the girl responded and with a smile, she threw two large fireballs at King who burst into flame.

  The smell of melted flesh wafted through the air as his screams of agony filled Grunt’s ears.

  “Looks like you get to come with us,” the lycanid said, smiling down at Grunt as if he was talking to his dinner.

  Grunt’s breathing became erratic as he began hyperventilating uncontrollably. He took another look at King who was rolling in the ground screaming as the witch pelted him with more fireballs. Then he fainted.