Eofe woke with a start.

  The night was still young, the moon and stars bright against the void sky. She didn’t know what had roused her, yet an uneasiness gripped her, and her heart hammered in her chest as she rose and equipped her bow. She cast [Owl Eyes], her pupils growing several sizes to take in the meagre light, and the dimly lit night turned nearly as bright as day. The camp was quiet and the other travelers were still asleep. She saw and heard nothing amiss. Even the forest was still, as if all the nocturnal critters had fled into the night.

  She was about to creep out of the camp to see what had triggered her unease when she heard footsteps and Hamish appeared as if out of thin air.

  He placed two fingers in his mouth and a shrill whistle pierced the quiet night. His team immediately shot to their feet from where they were resting. Kana had also slept in her armor, fully prepared for something to go down in the night. Eathan knelt on the ground and whispered quiet prayers.

  The rest of the camp was slower to rise, and Hamish himself went around and shoved the deepest sleepers awake with a foot.

  “Up, and into the wagons. Quick,” he commanded.

  “What’s going on?” one of the merchants asked, even as he climbed onto his seat.

  “There’s a pack of monsters that will be on us soon.”

  “Are you certain they’re coming for us?” the nervous merchant asked.

  “Yes. I should have considered they’d track us,” Hamish chastised himself. “I think they used their own blood as a marker. They must have an excellent sense of smell.”

  “What about the horses?” the [Traveling Trader] shouted from where she stood atop her wagon, cutlass in hand.

  The horses were still tied off to the trees at the edge of the woods. There was very little chance the monsters would just leave them alone.

  “Damn it all to the Hells,” Hamish cursed as he stomped over to the idle beasts. He severed each of ropes holding them with a swing of his sword before walking away. The animals grew antsy, inching closer to the woods as they caught the scent of something foul on the wind.

  “They’ll make a good distraction, at least. Let’s hope some of them survive.”

  The travelers had each boarded their wagons, the merchants and drivers ready to turn on their shields at the adventurer’s command. Only Eofe lingered, unsure of what to do.

  “I can help,” Eofe said to the adventurer team’s captain.

  Hamish appraised her for only a moment before shaking his head. “No, it’s too dangerous. You might be able to handle a few of the little ones, but there are far too many.”

  “The ones?” her voice rose in pitch.

  Hamish nodded. “There’s a big one coming.”

  Eofe internally protested a creature larger than her being referred to as “little.” Even more, she worried about what that meant for the size of the big one. Regardless, she obediently climbed into the back of the wagon, but clutched her bow tight and held an arrow at the ready. The other passengers already waited inside.

  “Shh, shh,” the [Mother] shushed the boy, who was crying in her lap. She kissed the top of his head even as her own quiet tears streaked down her face. The Goblin [Artificer] sat still with a bag on his lap and a deep look of concentration on his face. The [Scribe] balled his fists in a white-knuckled grip and stared at his feet.

  “It… it’ll be alright,” he said. “The adventurers will protect us.”

  Eofe didn’t know if he was speaking to the others or to himself. She didn’t blame him either way.

  The passenger wagon lay on the opposite side of the clearing from the rocky hills, sitting closer to the forest and furthest from the source of the trouble. That put them in the safest place for the moment; a minor consolation in the face of the looming threat. Eofe struggled to reconcile the small feeling of safety with the sense of duty she felt as an adventurer—even an untested one—to aid against monstrous threats. Wasn’t it her responsibility to stand outside and fight the monsters, even at the risk of her own life? How could she sit in safety under someone else’s protection?

  None of the stories of her aunt’s adventures included her hiding away while others fought.

  A far away trumpet interrupted her thoughts. The passengers froze at the first clarion call of the manufactured beasts that had dogged their steps the previous day. Eofe leaned out of the back of the wagon and tried to spy the monsters. Her [Owl Eyes] let her see far in the night, but the hills blocked her sight of the coming threat.

  “Keep your head in, girl,” the [Driver] ordered from his perch. The man was shaking like a leaf, with one hand reached below his seat, itching to activate the shield. “You don’t want any of you to be out there when the shield goes up.”

  Eofe pulled her head back in and tried to calm herself. She feared it was going to be a long night.

  Ulreth’s Pack gathered on a hill. The road was at their back, and past that the circle of wagons where their charges waited like pigs in a pen. Hamish wished he could say this was even the worst night he’d had in recent years.

  “I hate this damned road.”

  They had been running this circuit for the past two years, taking odd jobs around Parth and the Landing between trips. So it was with experience that Hamish could say there was always on this roadWhether it was the Flesh Shaper’s monsters, wild beasts, or the weather itself turning on them as if it had a personal vendetta. They just couldn’t catch a break. At least they hadn’t ever seen any bandits. No one was foolish enough to even bother. The route was dull at the best of times. And at the worst…

  “How’s it look?” Eathan asked.

  The [Cleric of Abundant Faith] rested his mace on his shoulder, a casual expression on his face that belied the grim nature of the task at hand. Hamish was once again reminded of how fortunate it was that his team had Eathan and Eriden’s positive nature to balance out his and Kana’s dourness. Otherwise, there’d nary a smile to be seen among Ulreth’s Pack.

  “Joha disfavors us tonight,” Hamish replied. “The big one’s over fifty.”

  His [Darkvision] and [Farsight] granted him a clear picture of the oncoming horde. And it truly was a horde. He lost count of the creatures as they swarmed over the hills, numbering in the dozens at the very least. Even that much wouldn’t normally have been a cause for concern—he trusted his team to handle many more such monsters, each rated below level 30—if it weren’t for the big one towering over its kin. It was easily the size of ten of them together. His [Assess] had estimated it to be level 57—a full milestone above his entire team.

  Hamish had no idea how so many of the Flesh Shaper’s monsters had gathered in this region unnoticed—his team weren’t the only ones to traverse this road, and he hadn’t heard any rumors of something like this. If he had, he never would have allowed this caravan to form. The monsters’ numbers had also grown since he first spied them gathering earlier that night. Their constant trumpeting must not have been in vain, instead calling their brethren from miles away. He worried that his team had made a mistake in seeking out and eliminating the creatures near the road the previous day. It might have only served to draw attention to themselves. While most of the Flesh Shaper’s monsters were no more intelligent than common beasts, there were others with cruel and clever natures. Hamish feared these were the latter.

  “Balls,” Eriden said. “Think we can take it?”

  “While defending the caravan?” Hamish left the question unanswered while he took a moment to consider their options.

  “Eathan, you stay with the wagons. Kana, draw the big one off. Keep it busy.”

  He didn’t want the big one anywhere near the wagons. The shields would hold up for a time against weaker attacks, but that monster would slice through them like butter. Eathan’s unique Class and the blessings it granted made him the most suitable for defending the caravan against the stragglers while the rest of the team focused on the big one and the bulk of the swarm.

  Kana grunted. “This’ll hurt, won’t it?”

  “Yes,” Hamish replied. “It will.”

  “Any weaknesses?”

  At his level, the [Assess] Skill granted more than just an estimation of the target’s level, also granting an awareness of its strengths and vulnerabilities. “Same as the little ones. The belly is a soft target, the rest is covered in thicker skin. Damaging the trunk will impair its senses. The brain rests behind the base of the trunk, but good luck reaching it.”

  Kana grunted her affirmation, then Eathan stepped forward and placed a hand on Hamish’s shoulder. The [Ranger] returned the gesture, then Kana and Eriden joined the huddle. Eathan began to pray.

  “Joha, your fickle fate may have set these monsters upon us this night, yet we ask for your blessing nonetheless. Tip the scales in our favor, and let our enemies be bereft of your gift. Joha, grant us Fortune

  The cleric’s voice reverberated with divine power. Silver light played across Eathan’s fingertips and traveled across his companions’ backs, filling each of the adventurers with Joha’s divine blessing. Hamish felt a lightness in his heart, a certainty that when the Scales of Fortune tipped, they would do so in his favor.

  The cleric continued.

  “Helena, we are set upon by a foe mightier and more numerous than ourselves. Still, we will not yield. Still, we seek victory. We dedicate this future victory to your name. Helena, grant us Triumph

  Helena’s blessing was heavier. Hamish’s muscles bulged under his clothing, all hint of fatigue from the restless night fled him, and every nagging doubt and distracting thought clouding his mind cleared away. He felt as if he could fight all night long and well into the next day. Yet the power of the [Goddess of Triumph] always came with a cost. Should fail to attain victory after receiving her aid, a curse would befall them even more potent than her blessing. But when the price of defeat was already death, it seemed an inconsequential risk to take.

  Hamish felt better with the power of two Heavens coursing through him. He would have preferred more, but Eathan needed to conserve the rest of his strength for his own task. The cleric left the group, retreating down the hill to take his place by the wagons.

  Soon, the clarion calls of the oncoming horde grew in number and volume, and the first hints of their pale flesh defiling distant hills reflected in the moonlight. Hamish readied his bow. He couldn’t see Kana’s expression behind her helmet, but he was certain it was grim. Eriden, on the other hand…

  “Happy about something, Eriden?”

  “Oh yes,” the sorcerer turned to his captain. Electricity played across the gem at the tip of his staff, and his silver eyes glowed with arcane light. His lips twisted into a feral grin.

  “They’ve just come in range.”

  Eathan stood before the circle of wagons. His heart beat steadily, but the pace drummed faster with every passing moment. He could hear the whimpers and mutters of the merchants behind him, a quiet contrast to the chorus of trumpets that sounded in the distance.

  He had counted his charges, each person he had been tasked with defending on the journey. Merchants, travelers, artisans, an adventurer, and even a child.

  He would count them again when the night ended.

  A flash of light briefly heralded the dawn before a boom shook the earth. A gentle breeze brushed over the hills to tousle Eathan’s hair and scatter the dust at his feet.

  .

  He idly wondered how much mana had been channeled into that spell, and how many of the monsters the sorcerer had killed in the blast.

  .

  The wild trumpeting of the Flesh Shaper’s monsters grew in tempo after the first salvo of the battle. More lightning strikes followed, a steady bass that drowned out the enemy’s horns and brightened the night for fleeting moments.

  Eathan found it to be a beautifully discordant symphony they were making this night. Finally, the trumpet calls were joined by the skittering of hard nails on the rocky earth. The first of the enemies of pale flesh and many legs crested a near hill, now descending unimpeded towards the caravan.

  “Shields up!” Eathan shouted.

  The thrum of magic vibrated the air at his back, signaling that the barriers had been activated. They would guarantee at least some momentary protection. It was Eathan’s job to ensure that protection lasted until the last of the monsters was dead. It would take all the power of his Class bring that victory to light. To this cause, the cleric raised up his left hand and prayed for strength.

  “Honor

  Streams of golden light poured out of his open palm like honeyed rivers, traveling down his arm to coalesce into a round shield of auric light. He grasped the armament in a steady grip, the radiance it cast banishing the darkness at his feet.

  “War

  He raised his mace into the air, the same golden light streaming out of his right hand where he gripped its hilt, enveloping the weapon in a sheath of divine power. Drumbeats of an ancient war pulsed in his mind, from the days of old when Man first raised his spear against the monsters in the dark.

  For his final prayer, the cleric pointed his shining weapon at the foul beasts nearing in his vision. They glowed in his sight, their every weakness laid bare before the eyes of the Hunter, his own eyes shining with predatory light.

  “Now, we Hunt

  Eofe’s blood pounded in her ears, her heart refusing to quell since the first boom had signaled the start of the battle. She had vainly hoped that the sorcerer’s immense destructive power would be enough to settle the fight before it began, but the repeated booms in the distance had dashed her hopes. Now, the infrequent thunderclaps were joined by the skittering of feet on the earth and the nearby blaring of trumpets, along with what was surely Eathan’s shouts and grunts and the insensate cries of the merchants. She had heard the horses whinny and bolt into the woods after the first explosion, soon followed by the skittering of unnatural beats. Eofe could only pray that some of the horses survived the night. The canvas cover still blocked her line of sight to the battle and Eofe couldn’t help but wonder…

  “No, no, no, no,” the [Driver] muttered from his seat. He had taken one look at the battle before he buried his head in his lap, as if dulling his senses could dull reality as well.

  Eofe couldn’t stand it anymore. She drew her knife and slashed a hole through the canvas, earning a cry of disapproval from the [Scribe], but finally giving her a clear view of the battle and the monsters they faced.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  She almost wished she hadn't.

  One of the monsters had found its way alone into the center of the circle of wagons, giving Eofe an unimpeded view of their foe. It was even more horrible than she had imagined.

  Its torso was a bulbous mass of white flesh, its body so sparsely covered with dark bristles that the hair seemed an afterthought by its creator. Her first impression was that it was some kind of spider, but it had only six legs. Four were bent outward like an arachnid’s and ended in hoof-like nails, while the two forelegs were oriented forward and tipped with wicked spikes, reminding Eofe of a mantis. She estimated it weighed at least twice as much as she did and stood higher than her waist. It had no ears or eyes. The only sensory organ she could identify was a long trunk-like proboscis that emerged from the front of its torso. She glimpsed a hint of white fangs in its snout and realized it was more like a leech. The trunk was raised above its body, where it swayed and twisted and audibly sniffed at the air.

  Eofe felt a fleeting temptation to retreat and cover her head like the [Driver] had done. Such a vile, unnatural creature did not belong in this world.

  The rest of the scene outside was chaos. Eathan was glowing with holy light, his mace rising and falling in rhythmic motions as pale flesh buckled beneath every swing and black blood splattered across the earth. Every other swing felled a monster, but there were so many it seemed as if he wasn’t making any progress in thinning their numbers. At least he was being aided by the caravan’s shields. Every time a monster’s limb strayed into one of the domes of protection, a flash of light would knock it back. It wasn’t enough to severely damage the monsters, but it served a suitable distraction. They weren’t intelligent enough to realize that they couldn’t get past the shields, and that the one potential prey outside the barriers was vulnerable. While their numbers were split between targeting Eathan and futilely striking at the shields, the cleric had an easier time rounding the circle and putting them down with efficient strikes.

  The rest of Ulreth’s Pack was nowhere to be seen, but flashes of lightning and booming thunder beyond a far hill signaled that they had their own problems to deal with.

  Eofe’s attention shot back to the monster in the clearing. Its snout was pointed right at her wagon and blaring its intent. She realized it must have sniffed out the sanctuary with the most prey. The creature skittered closer until it strayed too close and a burst of light and magic slapped its trunk away. The creature blared its agitation, yet it was undeterred. It rounded the wagon, probing the shield with its spiked forelegs as it moved, earning a blast of magical retaliation each time, until it had reached the rear.

  Now the others could see it. The [Scribe] shut his eyes tight and whimpered, while the [Mother] moaned and turned away, her son’s face already buried in her chest. The Goblin [Artificer] reached into his bag. Eofe drew an arrow and shot at the creature—which proved to be a mistake. She quickly learned that the shield worked both ways as a flash of light shattered the arrow into splinters. Eofe threw up an arm to cover her eyes as the splinters rained down and the errant arrowhead buried itself into the side of the wagon. She could only count her blessings that she hadn’t just accidentally maimed herself or one of her companions.

  She remained standing, bow in hand and arrow at the ready, lamenting her helplessness as the monster stood just outside of the barrier, seemingly taunting her inability to do anything. All she could now was wait.

  Hamish drew back his bowstring, steadied his aim, and channeled mana into [Piercing Shot]. The arrow shivered with suffused magic. He released, the of the bowstring vibrating in his ear as his arrow sailed true into the giant monster’s side. The creature didn’t even respond to the hit. The arrow joined a scattering of other holes penetrating the monster’s side, each leaking black fluid. Hamish could only hope he was doing more damage than it appeared.

  Kana roared at its feet. The monstrosity towered over her, twice the gargantuan Orc’s height. She swung her hammer with a speed that belied its incredible weight, crashing into its leg with a mighty crack. The leg briefly buckled under the blow. The creature was already limping on its two middle legs where the [Vanguard] had shattered its bones, while its trunk hung limp, riddled with arrows and scorch marks.

  It raised its forelegs and punched down at the Orc with more speed than precision. She deftly dodged the strike, which penetrated the earth by her side, and counterattacked with a swing of her own that chipped its sharp spike.

  They were fortunate the big one’s attacks were so inaccurate. Hamish couldn’t fathom why the creature didn’t have any eyes, but he gave up long ago in trying to decipher the mind of whoever was making the monsters these days. When the Flesh Shaper was alive, a monster like this would have had a dozen eyes, twice as many legs, and maybe even a pair of wings. Still, it was a powerful beast. Kana dodged and deflected what hits she could, but the gashes in her armor and the blood dripping down her body warned of the consequence of a single misstep.

  “The storm calls!”

  Hamish averted his eyes just as a lightning bolt scored another jagged streak across its torso. The creature’s limp trunk blared weakly to signal its pain. He turned back to see the monster swaying lazily, nearing to collapse. Eriden himself was breathing heavily, his wild grin having disappeared a while ago. Trails of electricity arced all over his body and lashed out against any creature that approached too close. Twitching bodies and scorched corpses surrounded the sorcerer, evidence as to the effectiveness of his defenses.

  A handful of the lesser monsters lay scattered about Hamish’s own feet, felled by his blade as much as his bow. The last one he killed still has his sword sheathed in its flesh. A skittering approached from behind. Hamish drew his sword out of the dead monster and turned to face his newest victim. It leaped at him, and he neatly sidestepped before swinging down in a clean cut, opening a long gash in its side that spilled black bile. The creature stumbled and blared its trumpet weakly before Hamish finished it off with a final strike to its torso. The little ones weren’t worth spending any mana on.

  He was about to prepare to take another shot at the big one when a bone chilling sound came from the direction of the caravan.

  The trumpet was deeper and louder than that of the little ones. Hamish turned back to the caravan and was greeted with a hellish sight.

  A familiar form of towering pale flesh had cleared the hills, another wave of little ones at its feet. It wasn’t quite as large as the first big one, and his [Assess] identified it as only level 48. He didn’t know whether to thank Joha for delaying its arrival or to blame the [God of Fortune] for the misfortune of having it appear at all. He’d consult Eathan on that theological quandary after the battle, if they both managed to survive.

  It might not have been so bad if he had detected it sooner, but already the second wave was nearly upon the caravan. Hamish had no way of drawing its attention away, and Kana and Eriden were still busy finishing off the first big one. Eathan would be exhausted, his own mana running low, divine or otherwise, and the wagons’ shields would be near to failing after the constant assault they had suffered so far.

  Hamish had never considered himself to be a religious man. He hadn’t received all that much divine aid throughout his life; besides the gifts his cleric gave him of course, but he didn’t count those. Ultimately, the Gods demanded more faith than he was willing to give. Despite this, he always held one prayer in reserve, for when circumstances grew most dire. He aimed at the new monster and channeled an unhealthy amount of mana into a [Piercing Shot].

  “Helena, grant us triumph.”

  Eofe’s staredown with the monster continued for what felt like hours, but what must have been mere minutes. It was a futile gesture on her part—the creature didn’t even have any eyes. Regardless, neither one of them could touch the other. It ineffectually poked at the shield, confused as to why it couldn’t reach its prey, while Eofe waited impatiently, ready to strike if the barrier failed.

  In the midst of this staring match, the shouts of the merchants outside suddenly grew even more panicked. Eofe leaned back to look through the gap she had made in the canvas to see what new horrors awaited them. The Elf blanched. A towering monster was nearly at the edge of the ring, the merchants pointing at it and shouting fruitlessly. Eathan stood before it, drenched in black blood and breathing heavily, holding up his shining shield as if that could ward against a creature so many times his size. Eofe watched in helpless terror as the giant punched down with a spiked foreleg, grazing Eathan’s shield and knocking him to the ground. It stepped over him and Eofe lost sight of the cleric beneath a swarm of the little ones.

  “No!” she cried out.

  The big one continued on to raise its foreleg over the nearest wagon. The merchant at its helm cowered beneath the attack as it descended, where it was met with a blinding flash of magic. The leg was stuck, half in and half out of the barrier, surrounded by white sparks and a piercing wail as the barrier tried to repel the limb. Time seemed to still and Eofe watched with bated breath as the two forces struggled against each other, until with a sudden the barrier collapsed. The leg crashed into the wagon, splintering it into two and sending the merchant howling into the waiting swarm below, where his screams were mercifully cut short.

  The monster stepped over the wreckage and into the center of the circle, where it raised its trunk into the air. Then, with most horrid sound Eofe had ever heard, it . Eofe’s eyes widened in realization of what was coming. Every heartbeat like a ticking clock, she watched in terror as the monster stepped towards her wagon, its trunk leading the body like a leash guiding a hound. Every breath was one closer to her last as it raised its leg into the air. She pulled back as the strike descended and a shrill scream and sparking light signaled the barrier’s attempt to repulse the attack. But Eofe knew it would be futile. The wagon vibrated under the contest of strength between magic and monster, eliciting cries of terror from the passengers.

  In a flash of clarity, Eofe grabbed the Goblin and yanked him to the side just as the shield popped. The spiked foreleg ripped through the canvas and shattered the side of the wagon where he had just been sitting. The entire vehicle buckled under the force of the attack, and Eofe’s momentum from pulling the Goblin tumbled them both out of the back and onto the hard earth. Before she could roll to her feet, a smaller spiked leg nearly took out her eye. She tilted her head just in time to turn it into a graze on her cheek, but a second spike pierced her shoulder. Her old staring partner loomed over her, pinning her to the ground. Its fleshy trunk slapped against her chest and she was forced to watch in horrid fascination as its lips peeled back to reveal a ring of serrated teeth that scraped against her hide cuirass.

  Equal parts fear and revulsion roiled in her gut. She reached for the knife belted to her hip, drew and slashed with a [Quick Strike], opening up the creature’s belly and spilling black blood over her hand and chest. The monster honked its distress and backed away, releasing her from its grip. It took a handful of wobbly steps before it collapsed to the ground, twitching. Her skin itched where the blood made contact and the horrid smell assaulted her nose. She could only pray it wasn’t toxic.

  Eofe jumped to her feet and took in the scene around her. The first thing she noticed was the Goblin, who was looking at the wagon with an expression of bewilderment. Eofe soon joined him. In a stroke of fortune, the giant monster’s leg had gotten tangled up in the canvas. The creature repeatedly attempted to yank its leg free, only to drag the broken wagon with it. Past where their wagon once lay, Eofe spied the [Traveling Trader] standing atop her own vehicle, cutlass in hand, the steel blade glistening with black blood.

  “Over here!” the woman called out. Eofe noticed with relief that the child now sat on her wagon, his mother lying by his side, bloodied but breathing. The merchant must have briefly let her barrier down to bring them inside. The [Driver] and the [Scribe] were nowhere to be seen.

  “Let’s go,” Eofe said, grabbing the Goblin and pulling him towards the merchant’s wagon. She could worry about the others after she got him to safety.

  “Wait!” the man said. He tore out of her grip and sprinted towards his bag, which had fallen in the dirt.

  “What are you doing?” Eofe yelled. “It’s not worth it!”

  She chased after him. Already, some of the little ones had entered through the gap in the circle of wagons, sniffing their way to the pair. Then fortune turned to misfortune in a moment as the big one finally tore its leg free of the impromptu trap. It immediately sniffed out the two nearest prey, neither of whom was blessed with safety behind a magical shield.

  “I swear to the Goddess, if I get killed because of a Goblin—”

  Eofe cut her complaint short as the Goblin dove into his pack and pulled out a thick metal tube, bigger around than both of his arms put together and nearly as long. It was covered with etchings in some arcane language Eofe couldn’t have ever hoped to decipher.

  She was prepared to drag him by force to the only island of safety, but then the arcane sigils started glowing. Eofe wasn’t particularly attuned to the touch of magic, but even she could sense that there was a of it suddenly leaking out of that object in a distressingly short period of time. A lot more than she had felt from any spell in her entire life. The Goblin pointed one end of the tube at the monster with a manic gleam in his eye.

  “Hey,” Eofe said nervously, as the magic continued to grow in strength and contaminate the air. “Maybe this isn’t—”

  The world turned upside down in a cacophony of sound and light. Eofe’s skull rattled as she cartwheeled across the ground. Her ears rang with such intensity that she prematurely lost all hope of hearing anything ever again, and stars of every color danced in her vision. All the breath had been knocked out of her lungs, and she groaned as she felt new bruises forming by the second. Miraculously, nothing seemed to have been broken. It was only with the adrenaline coursing through her veins and the knowledge that there were still monsters out there that she managed pull herself together, stand up, and survey her surroundings.

  To her dismay, the big one was still standing. To her delight, one of its forelegs had been severed completely and there was a gaping hole through its torso, out which poured a river of black blood. Unfortunately, Eofe knew with experience that something that big usually took several such holes before it fell down permanently. At least it looked a bit wobbly at the moment. All the little ones had also scattered from the source off the blast. It was fortunate they appeared to at least have some sense of self-preservation.

  Eofe looked around and found the Goblin lying unconscious several yards past where she had landed. The metal tube lay by his side with one end flared out with twisted metal. She’d consider it a miracle if he was still alive, considering how much she had suffered even being at the peripheral of the blast.

  For the moment, they had a clear path to the [Traveling Trader] and her wagon, and Eofe wasted no time taking advantage of it. She sprinted over to the Goblin and heaved the man onto her back, glad that he was so light. She pointedly stepped over the tube and left it in the dirt. It was probably broken anyways.

  The merchant was staring dumbfounded at the grievously wounded monster when Eofe arrived, so she had to yell and wave at the woman to get her attention. She snapped out of it in a blink, checked the periphery of the wagon to make sure none of the little ones were currently scrabbling at its shield, then briefly disabled it to allow Eofe and the Goblin through. The woman hauled the little man up from Eofe’s back and set him down on a stack of crates before Eofe climbed up to join the others in the fleeting bubble of safety.

  She took a moment to gather her breath and survey the battle. It wasn’t looking good. There were still dozens of monsters testing the four remaining wagons’ defenses. The flashes magic pushing back the attackers looked noticeably dimmer than at the start of the battle. While the [Driver] and [Scribe] were still missing, the covered wagon had flipped on its side after being dragged by the large monster, and Eofe could only hope they were somewhere inside.

  A great weight lifted off Eofe’s chest when she saw Eathan standing outside the circle, bloodied and weary, but alive. She couldn’t imagine what stroke of fortune it had taken for him to get out of the mess he had fallen into. It didn’t look like his luck would hold out for much longer, however. More of the little ones were peeling off their futile attacks at the barriers to target the isolated adventurer. The big one had also recovered its senses enough to start waving its trunk in search of new prey, and Eofe feared it would once again sniff out the source with the greatest number of victims. The rest of the adventurers were nowhere to be seen, and Eofe realized it had been some time since she had heard the telltale thunder of the sorcerer’s lightning.

  Someone would have to do something.

  Her hands were shaking, and her heart hadn’t ceased its drumming since the battle began. She checked her quiver, only to realize with dismay that it was half empty. She hadn’t even noticed the other half of her arrows scattered about the ground. Between being thrown from the wagon and tumbled by the backblast from the [Artificer]’s weapon, it was a wonder she had any left at all.

  Eofe approached the edge of the wagon, searching for the best path forward. She would have to round the circle of wagons to reach Eathan… and then what? Hamish’s assertion before the battle had been correct. She could handle a few of the little ones, but there were far too many. And there was nothing she could do against the big one. Not at her level.

  “Let me out.” Eofe’s voice was so quiet she wasn’t entirely sure she had actually said anything.

  “Wait,” the merchant placed a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m an adventurer. I need to help,” Eofe turned back to the woman with steel in her gaze.

  The woman raised an eyebrow. “I know. But you should take these with you.” She peeled off the lid of a crate to reveal rows of pristine arrows, each arrowhead carefully etched with arcane sigils. “It’s just a sharpness enchantment, but it’s better than—” she gestured to Eofe’s half-empty quiver “—that.”

  Despite the dire situation, Eofe still managed to flush in embarrassment. “Thanks,” she mumbled as she grabbed handfuls of arrows and stuffed them into her quiver.

  “Ready?” the woman asked.

  Eofe nodded, and a moment later the haze of magic comprising the barrier dispersed. She leaped out and landed in a crouch, the barrier pulsing into being at her back. Her movement didn’t go unnoticed. Immediately, one of the monsters peeled away from its fruitless attempt at breaching a neighboring wagon’s barrier and scuttled towards her. Eofe drew and shot on reflex, following a rote motion as if she were still under the boughs of the Wildwood, practicing archery under Aunt Maeve’s direction. She understood now why she had been forced to shoot a thousand arrows a day. The enchanted arrow easily pierced the monster’s hide and lodged into its torso just above the base of the trunk. She must have hit something vital, because the creature tumbled over in its sprint and collapsed into a heap. It didn’t get back up.

  A quick glance at the chaos and Eofe considered her options. Eathan was being hounded and looked on the verge of being overwhelmed. Dead monsters were piled in inky heaps at his feet, though there were still many harassing the wagons. Their barriers could fail at any moment. Worst of all, the big one started inching towards the center of the clearing.

  She could relieve the pressure on the cleric, but one of the wagons would surely fall in the meantime. Should she help Eathan before he’s overwhelmed? Or would it be better to distract the big monster before it breached another wagon’s shield? Saving Eathan would open him up to lend further aid in defending the caravan, but could she sacrifice one of the merchants just for the possibility of saving more?

  Her fretting turned out to be for naught as the choice was suddenly taken out of her hands. A primal roar echoed down the hills, and for a moment the battlefield stilled. Eofe’s vision turned red, her blood pumping with a level of animosity she had never felt before. She felt an overwhelming urge to charge up the hill and unleash her anger on the source of the cry. She took two steps towards the hill before the feeling abruptly faded, as if a bucket had been filled with all her rage before being summarily upended.

  She wasn’t alone in this feeling. The big monster trumpeted its own fury and tore across the clearing, crashing through the discarded remains of the wagon it had destroyed and up the hill towards the source of its ire, a handful of the little ones following in its wake. At the top of the hill stood the [Vanguard] in scuffed and bloodied armor, holding her massive hammer at the ready. Eofe belatedly realized she must have been caught in the periphery of a taunt Skill targeting the big one. She would have to thank the Orc later, no matter how much it hurt her pride to do so. The situation around the wagons still wasn’t great, but it had just become a lot more manageable. Eathan was still being pressured by a crowd of the little ones and taking glancing blows, and she figured their best chance was to relieve some of that pressure on the cleric.

  Eofe dashed away from the action and set herself up at an angle where she had a clear line of sight to a crowd of over a dozen monsters. They were nearly piling on each other trying to get at the wagons or the cleric, who was backpedaling and pushing them away with his dimming shield. Eofe drew an arrow, aimed, prayed for guidance, and let loose a [Scattershot] into the crowd. The damage was minimal—little more than shallow scratches that leaked tears of black blood—but the effect was immediate. A number of the monsters turned around and caught the scent of the lone Elf standing far away from safety; a number Eofe was too afraid to count. They trumpeted in response and even more turned to face her.

  She turned and ran. The skittering of many feet and the blaring of trumpets followed close behind. She ran away from the wagons, to the only place she knew well. A place where she would have the edge over these unnatural beasts. A place where she belonged and they did not.

  One step ground dirt and rocks into the hard earth, then the next crunched on twigs and dried pines. The full scent of the wild forest finally entered her nose, the air feeling fresher and more vibrant than any she had breathed in far too long. And for the first time since she had stepped out of the Wildwood weeks ago, despite the dire situation and the monsters at her heels, Eofe felt at home.