The next day was just as exciting as far as the small town of Derrin's Hollow was concerned. The alarm sounded just after sunrise, alerting everyone to an oncoming monster attack.

  "INCOMING MONSTER ATTACK. SHELTER IN PLACE. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR HOMES. ANYONE IN THE FIELDS, RETURN IMMEDIATELY TO THE CITY WALLS. GATES CLOSE IN THREE MINUTES. IF YOU CAN NOT MAKE IT, HEAD TO THE NEAREST BUILDING AND TAKE SHELTER."

  It was still early so most of the farmers hadn't yet left the city, procuring any supplies they might need for the day in the fields.

  The militia, what was left of it, about a third of what there was before the attack, formed a shield wall at the breach. Melted slag and stone littered the ground, making footing unsteady. No one had cleaned the debris from the day before yet.

  The three Hunters tasked with protecting the town appeared on the wall, scanning the horizon for the threat. A cloud of dust could be seen in the distance and it was heading straight for the town.

  Crops and small farm supply houses fell beneath the dust, anyone that may have been in its path were surely dead. "Stampede of Brayhorn!" The Hunter in gold called below.

  Brayhorn were a thick bodied, short haired quadruped with a low slung head. Metallic horns curved out and forward from thier reinforced iron skulls. They were descended from domesticated breeds with much smaller horns that escaped and went feral hundreds of years ago. Generally the herds stayed far from civilization, but once they began stampeding, almost nothing could stop them.

  "Good," thought Marrick ," at least it was something fairly normal and straight forward. Or at least, it would be if the wall still been whole."

  The man in black and the Healer landed upon the dirt, the healer barely raising a dust cloud. The man in the black armor however created his own little crater. He laughed as the ground split under him, raising up to his full height.

  The man in black moved with incredible speed, covering at least ten feet with every bound. Marrick was in absolute awe of it. He rushed to the nearest staircase that lead to the top of the wall so he could watch.

  The man draw the hammer from his back and swung it in one fluid motion, the momentum carrying him forward much farther and faster than he could run.

  It connected square between the eyes of the lead Brayhorn, a spray of blood and a groan filling the air. He swung wildly left and right, cutting them down with ease. Any Brayhorn unlucky or dumb enough to not change it's course met a bloody and brutal demise. The herd split in two around him like river water around a boulder.

  The archer withdraw a handful of arrows, which she strung three at a time on her bow. Unleashing them into the air, they fell in a line across the path of the Brayhorn. She let another volley loose in front of those, creating a second line.

  She pulled out a final arrow and took aim, holding her stance. As the Brayhorn passed through her fist line, she fired. The arrow flew and stuck the center front pole with a spark. Streaks of electricity arced between the poles, forming a square.

  The lightning sparked into the first Brayhorn, following its metalic horns into its skull, cooking its brains from the inside. The lightning continued to arc from hor to horn. Anything that crossed into the box dropped immediately.

  The Healer flexed thier hands and foot long needled extended from every finger. A line lead from each glove up the arm and into a pack on his back, full of a thick green liquid.

  He began his dash at a jog, picking up speed as he crossed the field to the Brayhorn that had split right of the man in black. By the time he reached them, he was a blur.

  Dashing in and out, between and under sprinting Brayhorn, poking and prodding as he went. The Brays in the front began to slow, then stumble, creating a pile up. Thier breathing slowed, and then stopped all together.

  Only about thirty of the beasts remained. They were clearly confused as they began to run in opposing circles around one particularly large Brayhorn. The man in black jumped into the ring and tossed his hammer to the ground.

  "You and me big boy, let's go!" He laughed maniacally in the brays face.

  "He's insane," Marrick thought, though he hasn't stopped smiling at the incredible display since the man in black started running.

  The Bray charged. The man in black charged right back. They met in the center. Marrick fully expected him to get bowled over. Even for a skilled Hunter, an Alpha Brayhorn was no weak creature. But he didn't. He held his ground firmly, pressing back against its long horns, feet digging into the earth a good eight to ten inches.

  For a brief moment, they were locked up, neither yielding ground. But the man in black could do one thing the Bray couldn't. He twisted his arms, twisting the head of the Bray and pushing it down into the ground, forcing its body to follow. He then spun around and mule kicked its ribs as hard as he could.

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  He boot pushed through the Brayhorns ribs with enough force to create an exit wound on the other side. With a loud snort and groad, the alpha died.

  The other Brayhorn turned and ran back in the direction they came from, and the Hunters let them. The man in black, now the man in red for all the blood that covered him, continued his maniacal laugh, hands on his hips.

  Marrick was in absolute awe.

  ———

  The Mayor had called an emergency meeting to discuss the issues at hand.

  "As you all are painfully aware, we were attacked yesterday by a beast that far outclassed our ability to handle. We are gathered here today to discuss how we will proceed.

  I have spoken at length with the Emissary from the Concord of Blades about our current situation and our options." Murmurs started in the crowd.

  "We can rebuild the wall and carry on as we always have. It will take time to rebuild what was lost, both in terms of infrastructure and the brave souls that lost thier lives defending the town."

  A lot of the old timers started talking amongst themselves, nodding. The rest weren't so easily convinced though.

  "Alternatively, we can join the Accorded Lands and the Concord of Blades and they will help us rebuild. Faster, stronger. They have the technology. But it comes at a price."

  The Mayor laid out everything Asche had told him about joining. What they'd get. What it would cost. And it hit Marrick like a ton of bricks.

  Forced conscription of every able bodied male sixteennto thirty five? That was insane! What about what he wanted? What about his goals, his dreams? How would his family get by without his help on the farm? He was vehemently against it, and made it known.

  He joined in with several people that booed and jeered at the price. Not just the forced conscription, but thier loss of democracy. Thier ability to choose thier own leader and live as they saw fit. They would be forced to live under the laws of the Accords. Outsiders would come and set up shop. The town as they knew it was be gone.

  Marrick had always dreamed of becoming a wayfinder. He loved to travel through the foot hills and mountains north of the city. Down winding animal paths and flowing streams, caves no human had ever set foot in, views few had ever seen. He didn't want adventure, adventure was dangerous. He wanted solitude. Peace. Just him, nature and his maps.

  "We will put it to a vote. Please write down your answer and drop it in the hat. Paper and pencil will be around shortly."

  This was it. Potentially the final vote the town would ever make. Marrick wrote down a large "NO" with several underlines and stuffed it into the hat as it came around.

  After everyone had placed thier vote inches hat, it was handed back up to the Mayor, who counted them all aloud.

  "The votes are counted. 137 against joining the Accorded Lands...and 138 for joining the Accorded Lands.

  Marrick was furious. A single vote had doomed him to who knew how long in military service. Who knew if he would even survive long enough to make it back to Derrin's Hollow.

  Emissary Asche ascended the stairs then and shook the now former Mayor's hand and took them podium, speaking into the microphone.

  "Citizens of Derrin's Hollow, allow me to formally welcome you into the Accorded Lands, and let me especially welcome the men and women who will join our ranks. I'll keep things short and sweet

  .

  Tomorrow begins evaluation. If you are a male between the ages of sixteen to thirty five, you will report outside of the east gate, near the river, regardless of your presumed eligibility. If you are a female twenty to thirty years of age, you may volunteer to enlist. You will all be tested and those able immediately sent for training in Hothstead, several weeks March from here. Good luck.

  Rebuilding efforts will behin immediately. I have already sent messages to the bui-"

  Marrick stopped listening, turning to leave the townsquqre. He was fuming mad and needed to get our of town for a while. It might be his last chance to enjoy the mountains and forests he called home.

  ———

  The evaluations were brutal, but Marrick was sure it would be nothing compared to the training they were to recieve in Hothstead.

  Seventy six men and fourteen women showed up for evaluation by the river.

  The first task was a basic one. Move as many river rocks from one pile to the other as fast as you could. You received a ranking based on how well you did from d to s.

  Immediately after you were to run as fast as you could upriver, until you came to the next station. Your run time would be ranked.

  Then you had to cross the river. If you were swept away, you failed. A net and a test proctor were on standby down river to rescue anyone in need.

  Once you crossed the river, you were to move to the rally point and do push ups, sit up and squats in sets of 10 until you physically couldn't do any of them anymore. Each exercise would be ranked separately. Helping another was strictly prohibited, this was a solo evaluation.

  Obviously, this was to assess the fastest and strongest among them.

  Marrick was part of the first group to be evaluates. They tested 5 at a time, Marrick assumed to enforce a competitive nature to the tasks, pushing them to strive harder for better ranks.

  At the sound of a whistle, Marrick began moving rocks, two at a time. Being a farmboy his whole life made the task fairly easy. He was sweating by the end of it, but he wasn't completely out of breath like the others. Two were keeping up fairly well, and the other two, notnso much. One had started to fall behind pretty badly.

  Once finished, Marrick raced up the shoreline and past a proctor, who marked down his time and rank. He had moved the rock faster, but he was a slower runner. One of the others ran right past him, making up any lost time from the rocks, and another caught up to him buy couldn't pull ahead. He kept looking over a Marrick, a boyish grin on his face. He was clearly trying to race, but had blown too much energy just catching up. They reached the next proctor at the same time.

  The one who had ran ahead was clearly a poor swimmer. Once he hit the water, he didn't so much swim across as flail wildly. He made it, but barely and not before Marrick and the other boy caught up to him.

  They were all about the same age, early twenties, and Marrick knee the others. He'll, everyone in Darrin's Hollow knee everyone. Perk of small town life marrick supposed.

  The first was named Blaine. Marrick knew him as a runner, someone who would make trips into town for supplies farmers might have forgotten the morning before or to replace tools that had broken in the field. They also supplied water and food when needed. Marrick knew he would be stiff competition.

  The other was a farmer, like him. They both dove into the water. It was ice cold, but Marrick was used to it. He enjoyed the cold water after miles and miles of hiking through wilderness, it refreshed him.

  With renewed energy, even though he was completely out of breath, Marrick pushed himself to the far bank of the river. Pulling himself up, he turned and sat a second to catch his breath. He watched as Kerrik, thecother farmer, drifted down stream. Apparently he was a worse swimmer than the first guy.

  Turning, Marrick saw the rally point, about a half mile from where he stood. "You've got to be kidding me." He sighed in exasperation.

  He tried to take off at a run but a light jog was all he could force his body to maintain. He moved across the calf high grass, huffing hard.

  As he got to the rally point he dropped and started doing pushup, only on his 8th push he was completely gassed out. He flipped over and started breathing hard. The proctor got uncomfortably close.

  "Are you quitting on me recruit? Is that all this backwater shithole has to offer? Did I authorise a nap? Get up!"

  Marrick was in shock. He hadn't expected to be yelled at, let alone like that.

  But it motivated him to continue. He would not be known as the guy who quit at the finish line. He did his remaining push ups and went into squats. The miles of hiking really helped here. Marrick had thighs like a tree trunks and no problem using them.

  By the end Marrick collapsed with a total of 32 push ups, 47 sit ups and a whopping 132 squats. His everything was on fire as he lay on the ground, panting. The proctor walked over and slapped apiece of paper onto his chest, hard.

  "You disgust me recruitment get out of my face." The proctor walked away without another word.

  "What the hell? Did I do poorly?" Msrrick grabbed the paper and held it over his face.

  Ex 1: S

  Ex 2: B

  Ex 3: A

  Ex 4:B

  Ex 5: A

  Ex 6: S

  Total: A

  Marrick grinned and let his arm fall completely limp by his side.