The sun hadn’t fully set, but it had disappeared behind the chain of mountains that sat miles to the east. The shadows they threw muted the vibrant colours of the plains and brought a tinge of chill to evaporating sweat.

  And that suited Marie just fine.

  “He is back again, on your left.”

  She called out the warning to Dusty Brow and the tabaxi [Resonance Striker] grinned, though from behind her armoured bodyguard Marie could only hear it in her voice.

  “Good. I’ve got my Skill back.”

  This time, the cat-woman’s [Mighty Throw] was almost silent. She’d stopped vocalising her Skills when she’d stopped using them as a treat, and had started using them to kill in earnest.

  Even so, she’d only managed to bring down a couple of the goblin fighters that had been chasing them for the last half hour. Another had been brought low by one of the traps Sprig had been setting as she fled, now far ahead of them, but it’d got up, injured, and scuttled off.

  Still, every small setback gave the goblins more reason to pause, and brought Marie and Dusty more time.

  —

  The first to catch them had been the spiders. Giant spiders, ridden by goblins. Four of them. That had made Marie shudder with revulsion as much as fear. They’d charged in, and whilst Marie’s thrown stone had hit one of the spiders it hadn’t stopped it. Dusty’s [Mighty Throw] had though, and when the tabaxi had combined [Weather Charge] and [Counterstrike] on the lead spider rider, it had hissed in pain and fallen back with the others.

  Four miles and seven yards to Wayfarrow.

  For a while they thought that they had done it, the spiders retreating back into the light woodland they’d been using for cover, but a few minutes later, as Marie and Dusty were hurrying across a stream, they’d returned with more goblins.

  More goblins, but not more spiders.

  Two per spider.

  When the passenger had got off the arachnid, and the eight-legged monstrosities had scuttled off again, Dusty had sworn.

  “They’re transporting in reinforcements.”

  They’d picked up the pace of their own retreat then, keeping ahead of the massing goblin fighters. Their numbers had grown quickly, especially when a colossal centipede scuttled out of the gloom and deposited a full five armed and armoured greenskins. Hundred clawed limbs undulated as it vanished back into the growing darkness to fetch more.

  More than a dozen.

  That was when they’d started their next assault.

  The giant insects had hung back that time. Seventeen goblin warriors wielding hatchets and maces and crude spears and shield surged forwards, howling into the twilight sky.

  Marie had her pan out in one hand now, but Dusty was the one to meet the charge, with Marie hurling stones to pick off as many as she could.

  The stones injured but failed to kill. It was the tabaxi woman’s spear that drew first blood. And second. And third.

  A blur of action, and then the goblins were retreating back out of stone-throwing range, leaving one dying on the ground, gasping through a ragged hole in its chest, his feet a bloody mess.

  As they resumed their slow retreat, Dusty had turned to check in with Marie and had seen the french woman green around the gills.

  “Are you okay? Injured? Can you fight?”

  Marie had shaken her head for a moment, but held up a hand.

  “I will be fine. It is just… the sound after you shouted [Toe Crusher]...”

  The tabaxi had grinned.

  “No one ever guards their feet well.”

  Three miles, one thousand and ninety one yards to Wayfarrow.

  —

  Now, holding a snapped-off branch in one hand and her pan as an [Improvised Shield] in the other, Marie prepared for the fourth assault.

  Each time Dusty had beaten the goblins back, though the last time she’d not regained her Skills and had only left a couple with deep lacerations.

  She’d not escaped injury herself, even with the banded armour that surrounded her body. She was moving slower after each clash.

  But this time, as the goblins ran in once more, her [Mighty Throw] pierced the skull of one, and the ethereal [Echoing Strike] that followed a second later sliced into the meat of another’s arm.

  As the spear reappeared in her hand, she brought it up to stab at the frontrunner, but the goblins were growing wise to her fighting style, and with nothing to hem them in, the first one was already darting away and letting another come in to strike.

  It was like a game of cat and mouse, and Marie did all she could to keep them from surrounding the tabaxi as the two of them retreated step by step.

  After half a dozen feints at her, Dusty let out a snarl of frustration and darted out with a blow that took one of the greenskins high on the shoulder. It was enough to force the axe-wielding creature out of the fight, but the sudden lunge left her exposed, and two more goblins lashed out with mace and sword.

  [Swift Blow]

  Marie thought the Skill as Dusty flinched back from a heavy strike on her arm and a cut to her face, and the branch Marie swung out connected hard with the head of the mace-wielding monster.

  It tore flesh. Drew blood. But the goblin fell back alive, followed by its brethren.

  They were wary. Marie could read it in the glimmer of their beady eyes. Very wary of the tabaxi. Less so of her, but still unwilling to fully commit to an attack.

  “Two of them are good. Probably not much below level 20.” Dusty swore as she massaged the wrist of her spear arm. “I can’t force them to engage on open ground.”

  “Do we run?”

  They kept backing up as they murmured to each other, one eye on the goblins. This time Dusty took a while to reply, and Marie could see the goblins marshalling their nerves to strike again.

  “Can you keep up the pace? I don’t see more than the three giant spiders and the one giant centipede back there, and they don’t seem to want to bring them in to engage.”

  “...I can make it.”

  “Okay. On their next charge, we counter-charge. Both of us. Keep behind me. Use any big Skills you have. They’ll be surprised. They’ll fall back. As soon as they do, we turn and run. Got it?”

  When Marie didn’t immediately respond, the tabaxi took her eyes off the goblin force for a second and an expression of concern passed across her features as she saw Marie shaking.

  “Hey. You still with me [Scout] lady? Not going to freak out over a little blood and guts now are you? We fight to kill.”

  Marie swallowed as Dusty returned her focus to the massing warriors.

  “No. I mean yes. I mean, merde. It is… éc?urante. I have not killed something before. Not… like this. It makes me feel sick, but I can do it.”

  The image of the goblin’s head caving in under her canteen made her gorge rise.

  “You sure? I’ve seen people lose their nerve in battle. I need you to be there. Present.”

  Marie shook her head, though the [Resonance Striker] wasn’t looking at her any longer.

  “I will be there. I… It is unpleasant. Horrifying. The blood. Seeing their insides on the outside. Earlier, when I crushed one’s head…” she choked down a feeling of nausea and revulsion again. “... I am… afraid. Scared that they are going to do the same to me, or worse. But I will be there.”

  “Good.” Dusty murmured, not taking her eyes off the warband as it began to close the distance once more. “Use the emotions, just don’t let them overtake you.”

  Marie glanced over her shoulder.

  Three miles, four hundred and twenty-two yards to Wayfarrow.

  And then the goblins were charging again, and the two woman flew out to meet them.

  —

  Just under twenty minutes later, Dusty and Marie stopped running.

  Maire put her hands on her knees as she bent over and heaved, though nothing came up. She’d already thrown up what little had been in her stomach. Dusty was watching behind them, but for the first time since the chase had started, there was no sign of the bow-legged, green creatures on the horizon, nor any of the huge insects they’d used to keep pace with them.

  “How much further?”

  “One thousand, six hundred and fifty seven yards.”

  “That’s a useful Skill combination. I need to get me a [Scout] for all my missions.”

  Marie shook as much with fatigue and nerves as with laughter.

  Why am I laughing? It is not even that funny.

  Sweat and grime and blood streaked across both women and Marie had to pull at the collar of her uniform to let some of the heat escape into the cooling night air. The tabaxi, who had to be boiling under her metal armour and fur, finally took her helmet off with a sigh.

  “They will not come this close to the town. Not when there’s a risk of guard patrols.”

  A drumming sound made them look up in sudden panic, but the noise was coming from the opposite direction of the goblin camp. It was coming from Wayfarrow.

  Moments later, Marie spotted a cluster of riders on horses charging in their direction, and as Dusty saw them too she gave a snort.

  “Town watch. Always late to the party.”

  When the [Resonance Striker] repeated the comment to their faces a minute later, Marie almost choked.

  The man that looked down at them from horseback was certainly not amused.

  “We received word of a potential goblin attack. Report.”

  Dusty Brow didn’t deign to look at him, and instead turned to Maire, scratching some dried blood out of her ear.

  “Get a load of this guy. Report.” She stretched out an arm and winced, teasing out fragments of stone and wood where a crude spear had found a small gap in her armour. “A few goblins run around and they act like there’s an invasion. Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Cavalry spears and a sword barred their passage.

  Why do so many people use spears? Is that something I should look into?

  “Ladies, I need to know wha-”

  “Oh leave off, Bilkson.” Dusty pushed one of the spear hafts out of the way and simply walked through. “There weren’t even a hundred. We killed a few and they ran off as soon as there was a chance of meeting any of you starched-collar prettyboys, and girls.” She inclined her head towards a female guard who Marie recognised from the incident at the library, then muttered to Marie in a tone low tone that was nevertheless audible to the patrol. “Probably the prospect of a conversation with them.”

  To their credit, the watch didn’t react to the provocation, but fell in to escort the two women to the distant gate set into the eastern approach of the town’s wall.

  Bilkson, if that was the man in charge’s name, spent a few moments riding in silence, then braved further conversation with the tabaxi.

  “In the future, if there is no cause for alarm, I would appreciate you telling the rest of your group. I’ve had three allagi at the gatehouse yelling about a horde of greenskins descending on the town for the last five minutes. From what they said we didn’t expect to find any… friendlies… alive.”

  Dusty rolled her eyes.

  “Well, that’s what you get for listening to Bronze-ranks. If I come screaming to you, [Watch Captain], then maybe it’s time to listen. If a few hunters get their tails in a twist…”

  She left it hanging, and continued on to Wayfarrow.

  The watch declined to comment further, and after a minute rode off ahead back into town.

  As the weary adventurers drew close enough to see the actual gates, three figures hurried out to meet them, along with a smaller form gamely trying to keep up.

  Ulfran was the first to reach them, and he gave a huge sigh of relief as he looked them over and saw no serious injuries.

  “Cloudy night, I didn't believe them when they said you were fine.”

  Though he was more addressing Marie, Dusty waved off his concern as the others ran over.

  “Believe it, Bronzer. Get a good look at what Silver-rank is. This is what you get when you stand and fight your battles rather than trying to talk your way out.”

  Privately, as she bent down to scratch Napoleon on the back of his skull, Marie thought that was a little unfair, given that they'd run away themselves, and had told the allagi to leave, but she could almost feel her levels waiting for when she slept.

  Sprig seemed confused too.

  “I thought Miss Marie was Bronze-ranked.”

  Dusty gave her a withering look.

  “Ratings-wise, maybe, and probably will be until she gets a few more combat Skills and some decent gear behind her, but in spirit she's a step ahead.” For a moment she relented, and her expression turned more forgiving. “Your traps weren't bad, for an allagi that hangs around with [Hunters]. You've got some potential kid, just make sure you don't shy away from danger.”

  If they were bothered by the tabaxi’s implicit criticism of their caution, Ulfran and Ashe said nothing, and instead escorted the others inside the gate.

  “Well, we made it back alive.” Dusty proclaimed loudly as they wandered past the gatehouse watch post, drawing a look of irritation from a couple of on-duty guards. “Is it still tradition to go for a pint after? First round’s on me. I could do with something to eat too.”

  The three allagi looked at Marie, who straightened her glasses and glanced around.

  “Like this? Should we not, I don’t know, wash first?”

  Dusty stretched. “I’m thirsty and hungry. Priorities, Marie.”

  “But won’t the other peop-”

  “I don’t give two whiskers about other people. I’ve got a powerful thirst on. Come on. Let’s go to the Broccsus.”

  There was no arguing with the tabaxi woman, and she led them through the streets until they reached the guild and the tavern next door.

  An older dwarf greeted them as they entered, with no sign of disapproval as to the state of their dress or the smell they surely had to be giving off.

  “Miss Brow. Not seen you in over a year. Are you returning to the guild? How is your family?”

  “Allright Tondrun? They’re all fine. Needed to get out of the house though. You know how it is. Looking like I might be picking up the ol’ spear on the regular again. Took off for an afternoon polishin’ and realised how much I missed the rush. We’ll have a round, and whatever’s good to eat at this hour.”

  “Right you are Miss Brow. I shall be right back.”

  The tavern was almost empty, which wasn’t unexpected with a lot of the adventurers out of town, and Dusty plonked herself down at the nearest table and gestured for the rest of them to join her. Marie did so, but looked up as the allagi hesitated and then took seats.

  Nervous?

  She scanned the rest of the place - it didn’t take long. There were no other allagi in the Grinning Broccsus. But surely she’d seen some here on other occasions?

  Before she could think on it too long, the [Innkeeper] was back, placing a mug or glass in front of each of them, and depositing a few platters of food in the centre. A large pie. Bread and cheeses. Smoked fish. A small chicken.

  She took a sip of what turned out to be a rich, red wine and relaxed for the first time since she’d left the guild that afternoon.

  “Oh. This was the correct decision. Thank you Dusty.”

  The allagi all made appreciative sounds, and as they all began to tuck into the food, Marie snuck one of the chicken bones down to Napoleon to nibble on.

  Sprig finished her beer in record time, and smacked her lips.

  “That was just what I wanted.”

  Dusty winked at her.

  “The benefits of a good [Innkeeper]’s Skills.” She glanced round the lower-leveled people. “Just don’t have too many, kids, or you won’t be able to function in the morning.”

  Ulfran gave a satisfied sigh as he put down his own mug.

  “That’s not a problem - with what we get paid for today we can just buy one of the hangover cures Miss Marie has at the guild.”

  Dusty’s head turned so fast Marie was worried she might get whiplash.

  “What? That’s a thing?”

  At Marie’s confirmation she instantly whistled for Tondrun and ordered another round, and added a bottle of wine for herself.

  “Oho, now I can really enjoy a night out.”

  Marie turned to Ulfran, forehead wrinkling as she puzzled over his statement.

  “I aimed for a fair amount for an afternoon’s work, but surely you would not spend it all on a hangover cure?.”

  “Perhaps not, but, well, you show her Ashe.”

  The [Hunter] gave an apologetic smile and pulled something out of her bag.

  “I know we were there to help, but I wasn’t neglecting my role. I just saw them and thought, why not pull double duty?”

  She put it down on the table, and Marie’s eyebrow rose at the sight of a purple-petaled flower, roots and all.

  —

  As the miniature feast continued and the hour grew late, the group checking out the medicinal plants and the allagi tentatively quizzing Marie and Dusty on what it had been like to face the goblins, a question struck Marie.

  “Dusty, what did you mean by ‘spending the afternoon polishing’?”

  Slightly sozzled, but clearly possessed of a strong constitution, the tabaxi leaned over with only a partially-vacant expression.

  “Huh?”

  “It means she was looking after us.” Ashe chimed in. “Polishing the Bronze-ranks.”

  “Awh. You lot weren’ the worst. Well, Ulf - you were too timid. You won’ hit level 20 adventurin’ if you don’ take a risk. I don’ care what people say ‘bout you allagi; you’re not all bad.”

  At yet another less-than-subtle dig at him, the smile that Ulfran adopted was forced, but the tabaxi was too tipsy to notice.

  “I am more of a [Hunter] than an [Adventurer], and I’ll take being level 16 and alive.”

  “I dunno ‘bout that.” Dusty murmured to Marie, clearly audible to the table. “Lil’ embarrassing at his age.”

  It seemed that was the final straw.

  “We’d better be going.” Ashe said, tossing a few coins on the table. “We’ve got an early start in the morning for a hunting trip.”

  “Oh, no. Stay. We’re celebrating. I haven’t had a night on the town in more than a year. Don’t worry about the cost - I’m covering it.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t.” Ulfran’s response came from between clenched teeth. “And the work is to the north - we need to be rested in case the goblins move and we have to… leave quickly.”

  Three chairs scraped the floor, causing Napoleon to skitter back from where he’d been resting under one of them, and the allgi headed for the exit.

  “Makes y’ wonder how they once ruled these lands.” Dusty snorted.

  Eyes of flint turned on the tabaxi.

  “That,” Marie said, as the door to the Grinning Broccsus swung closed, “was rude. They are good people.”

  The [Resonance Striker] waved a dismissive paw.

  “Bah. I’m sure they’re nice enough. Give me someone who’ll stand at my back when the dungeon’s on fire and I’ll show you a good person.”

  “We told them to run!”

  “Sure we did.” Dusty finished off the dregs of her drink. “They could’ve refused. Could have stuck with us and taken on all those green-skinned bastards. But they didn’t. That’s why they’re Bronze and you’re heading for Silver.”

  “That does not excuse the way you… needled Ulfran.”

  Dusty rolled her eyes.

  “If it hadn’ been true he wouldn’a been bothered. If he can’t take someone poking a lil’ fun at him he shouldn’t be in the guild.”

  Marie smouldered silently whilst Dusty ordered another glass of wine. She sat in silence, arms folded, as the tabaxi drank it and tried to engage her in conversation. Eventually the cat-woman slammed down an empty glass.

  “Fine. I’ll apologise to him if I see him. Happy?”

  Marie uncrossed her arms and relaxed back into her chair, and accepted a sweet sherry that Dusty pushed over her way.

  “An apology and an afternoon of training, for all three of them.”

  “Apology and some advice on how they can improve.”

  “Not just advice. Training. Polishing in the guild’s courtyard.”

  “Fine. But only an hour.”

  “Done.”

  —

  It was past midnight when Marie left the Grinning Broccsus with a significantly inebriated Dusty Brow. It wasn’t until the two of them were in the street that she realised that it was in fact herself that was sticky, not the floor and furniture of the tavern. Napoleon nosed around her boot and came away with her lace sticking to his skull, along with a dark green smear.

  Dusty giggled, one paw over her mouth, at Marie’s expression.

  “Mon dieu we are a mess.”

  “Who cares? We’re adventurers. We’re allowed to be.”

  “I don’t want to be.” Marie swayed as she levied a finger towards her tabaxi companion. “What will your husband and children say.”

  That made the cat-woman stop and think.

  “Ugh. I don’t need to give them an excuse to be even more untidy. If I have to wash another carpet… okay. What do we do?”

  “Are the public baths still open?”

  —

  The receptionist at the baths hadn’t been keen on the state of the two women, or the presence of an undead dog, but after a few scathing remarks from Dusty, she’d relented and admitted them. She’d even agreed to give their clothes a quick wash - free of charge. The one thing she had refused to do, however, was to go to the house of the masseur and wake him up to come and work on them.

  Marie gave a deep and contented sigh as she relaxed back into the heat of the pool, empty at this hour but for the two of them. The tiled lip where she rested her head was surprisingly soft. A cushioning spell perhaps?

  There were some upsides to being stuck in this strange world.

  Dusty practically flowed into the water, and the pair rested with eyes closed for a minute until an undignified splash announced that Boney had joined them in the bath.

  “I’m not planning on coming straight back to the guild on a full-time basis. But I do want to start taking quests again. When I do, I’d be happy to have you on board. Bronze ranking or not. We’ll get you some gear and I’ll see if I can teach you a few tricks.”

  The undead hound doggy-paddled round the pool as Marie stared at the gently glowing ceiling and considered the offer.

  “Are you sure? I did not achieve much today. If I killed two, it was only because they were not fighters like the ones you faced. They barely had knives. The one warrior I did face almost ran me through.” She felt at her back where a faint pain still throbbed. There was only a shallow cut - the blow hadn’t got through her [Resilient Threads] and [Tough Skin] by much, but with a little more force she could have lost a kidney.

  As it was, the area would probably be bruised and sore for days.

  “It was your first flesh-and-blood fight. You did well. You didn’t freeze up. You didn’t run in or run off until we agreed. Ninety percent of being an adventurer is keeping your head.”

  “I do not feel like I did. How did you stay so calm? I was afraid for my life. Furieuse at the goblins for trying to take it from me. Worried that the rest of you would not get away, and about what would happen to Napoleon if I died.” She paused as the skeletal dog, half sunk to the bottom, forced its way through the water to paw at her leg. She lifted it out and it shook itself off with a clanking rattle. “All the conflicting emotions. I could not stop shaking. The sight and smell of the blood. I feel sick just thinking about it. I was sick.”

  There was a splash as Dusty ducked her head under the water, and when she came back up and shook it, it seemed as though she had sobered up a little more.

  “I wouldn’t say I was calm. Those greenskins were still a danger to me. I just… keep my emotions in check. A little bit of fear is good - it heightens the awareness, but too much and it turns to terror and you hesitate or run. A small dose of anger is good - it sharpens your focus. Too much of it though and it turns to rage. That’s bad - makes you stupid. Makes you make mistakes.”

  That gave Marie pause as the tabaxi leaned on the side and shook water out of her ears.

  “Do you not hate them then? The goblins?”

  “What, all of them? Nah. But I don’t pity them either. Do you? Hate them, I mean. They’re dangerous, but so is a sea serpent or a broccsus. The [Hunter] was right - they’re just a people. Vicious, stabby little bastards of a people usually, but killing them is just a job. A thing that needs to be done if they’re a threat to the town, which your Skill says they are. I don’t hate things that haven’t done anything much to me.” She sank back down until only her face was above the water. “Now, if they’d taken one of my kids it might be a different story. They do that sometimes, kidnap children. Usually it’s to randsom or bargain, but if times are hard, well…”

  Marie drifted in and out of Dusty’s conversation, making generic noises of affirmation every now and then.

  Do I hate them?

  She scratched Napoleon’s vertebrae idly as he rested next to her on the side of the pool. The crack in his leg made her angry, but then again they had gone out there to kill the goblins. Had killed goblins. Did it make sense to hate something for defending itself? Or attacking when it was under threat? Granted, they hadn’t known that she was there to scout them out to be killed, but then, was what they’d done so very different to what she had been attempting to do herself?

  The question plagued her as they finished soaking in the pool, washed themselves and got dressed into the hastily cleaned outfits the attendant handed them. For all she responded to Dusty, the image of her canteen caving in the head of a small green figure, and the remembered shock that had run up her arm as she’d torn half the skin off another's face with a splintered branch, were foremost amongst her thoughts. Napoleon stuck close to her heel, bone-white skull fixated on her as they walked back, and when they reached the guild, Dusty stopped and put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey. If it’s still troubling you, think on this: those goblins we faced were a threat. Any civilians in their raiding range could be killed. It happens all the time. You might not have gone out there with the intention of killing them today, but you had to be prepared. Ask yourself: what else should you have done when they came at us with blades and bows and beasts and magic. If you’d simply been a trader passing by, they’d have gone after you just the same. You did nothing wrong.”

  “Does that help you to get over the… brutalité. Get past how disgusting it is?”

  “Damn right it does. I keep people safe from those monsters. It takes a bit of getting used to of course, but now? Now I sleep like a kitt.” The tabaxi thought for a second. “No. Not like a kitt. I sleep much better than those milk-hungry wailers. You’ll see. Good night.”

  Marie stayed standing outside the entrance to the guild for a few minutes longer.

  Keep at it until the shock does not sit so deep? Desensitisation? We are little more than animals when it comes down to it. Is kill or be killed a good reason to take up arms? Hunt or be hunted?

  She looked down at Napoleon.

  “The people of Rome loved the colosseum. Greeks had the pankration. The Mesoamericans tlachtli. Blood sports and fights to the death were normal in many cultures, until recently. Even now people love boxing…”

  Contemplating the brutality of it all, and trying to marry up the shock and anger she’d felt at the goblins when they were attacking with her body’s reaction to the violence, lasted until she snuck into her office. She shut the door, pulled Napoleon onto her lap, put her head down on her rucksack and closed her eyes.

  And then, as she slept, something, somewhere, in some small way implied its approval as it rewarded her for her actions.

  [Scout Level 19!]

  [Skill - Snap Kick gained!]

  [Skill Augmentation - Tactical Reposition (Evasive Roll) gained!]

  [Skill - Staggering Blows gained!]

  Hi all, hope you're enjoying the story so far.

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