Before the group could turn to follow the new bearing, the temperature dropped rapidly, the flames of the spreading fire shrank, and a cloud formed overhead from which frigid half frozen rain fell. Quickly the flames were extinguished and every surface became coated with ice.

  “It’s a spell!” Ellen yelled to alert the group.

  “Oh wow, I’m glad we have yer expert opinion,” Grom shouted back over the growing wind.”

  A gust of wind caught Grom and he stumbled back trying to recover, only to fall down on the ice.

  Ellen began immediately trying to dispel the magic, but the poor footing and sleet slowed her casting.

  As soon as the ground had frozen, Linar jumped back out of the spell’s effect and the group lost sight of him.

  Bill spun around quickly, trying to find the source of the spell, but he too slipped, falling on his side.

  Syril sighed, pulling out his small flute and played a note lost to the sound of the storm and touched Bill, who had fallen beside him.

  Bill, who had been struggling to get to his feet, his hands slipping of any surface he grabbed onto, suddenly found purchase. Cautiously he rose to his feet just in time for a giant orange figure to jump out of the storm and tackle him back to the ground.

  Bill and the creature fell back to the ice, and the tiger that had pounced on him went straight to bite his neck. Just in time, Bill brough the handle of his axe up, putting it in the giant cat’s mouth and holding it at bay, though he took wounds from its claws left free to rake him.

  Grom, finally growing frustrated at his inability to stand, muttered a prayer to his mysterious patron for aid and felt a rush of divine energy flow through him. Just like Bill, he found he had purchase on the ice as if it were ordinary ground. With his footing regained, he grabbed his mace—his shield lost in the storm—and ran to aid Bill.

  Syril shouted an encouragement to Bill as he struggled against the cat, and the warrior gained a surge of strength.

  And then, as suddenly as the storm had begun, it went out, the last of the wind blowing the sleet away.

  “Good job Ellen!” Syril called.

  “That wasn’t me!” she shouted back.

  They scanned their frost covered surroundings in search for their enemy and Bill continued to wrestle with the tiger. Once he was close Grom shouted another prayer for Bill.

  “Protect him!” and extended his hand out.

  Once more the power flowed through him, and suddenly the tiger jumped off Bill, shaking its head in confusion. It only took a moment for it to recover, however. It looked past Bill on the ground as if he weren’t there, his eyes moved past him and locked onto Grom.

  “Oh no…” Grom said, cursing whichever god was granting him this power.

  “Leave them alone Stripes!” the uncertain voice of a child called from the forest.

  The leaves rustled, and Linar stepped out, holding the small boy who had lost his cat in one arm, and a dagger to his neck with the other.

  “Linar!” Syril yelled. “What did we say about threatening children?”

  Linar looked confused for a moment, “I don’t recall this ever coming up.”

  “That was our last rogue,” Grom said, eyes still fixed on the tiger.

  Syril shook his head, muttering to himself.

  “Rogues…”

  The tiger stood still, looking from the little boy to Grom, letting out a disapproving growl.

  “That’s the boy I helped look for his…” Ellen began, then looked to the tiger.

  “Cat…” she finished weakly.

  “Oh! It’s you!” the boy said, his terror lessoning at the familiar face.

  “Was your cat a tiger!?” Ellen demanded.

  The boy looked at the ground, chastised.

  “Yes.”

  “How about we put the knives and claws down and sit down to discuss this,” Syril suggested.

  ***

  Once they all agreed not to kill each other, the boy—Fred—led them to his home in the forest. Linar put his knife away for the journey, but Bill and Grom kept a good distance between themselves and the tiger.

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  Sheepishly after a short walk the boy gestured up at his forest home. A tree house. Not a tree house in the sense of a house built up in a tree. No, this house was a tree. At his approach the bark of the massive tree parted, revealing a spiral staircase. The tiger ran in eagerly, as the group stopped to take it all in.

  “I don’t want to go into a druid’s living tree home and get killed when he seals us in wood,” Linar said.

  “Yeah, we’re good out here,” Syril agreed. “Why did you try to kill us?”

  “You killed my bird! Why were you looking for me?” the boy said back, crossing his arms as he regained some control over the situation.

  “We were trying to rescue you,” Bill said.

  “I don’t need rescuing, so you can go.” Fred replied, gesturing at his house.

  Syril looked at the tree house, the giant tiger sitting inside it and the boy dressed in forest hued clothes and came to a decision.

  “Okay, have a good life. Let’s go.”

  “What?” Bill asked, looking from Fred to Syril who was already walking away.

  “Well, that was a waste of time,” Grom said, rubbing his back which still hurt from his fall.

  Under his breath, me muttered a prayer of healing, not expecting to work, yet still disappointed when it failed.

  “You don’t want to know why he’s out here?!” Bill asked.

  “Nope,” Grom said.

  “I ran away from home! My father runs a logging—” the boy said to Bill, unsure how to react to the lack of interest of the team.

  “Don’t care,” Syril said, still walking away and waving over his shoulder without looking back.

  “Or why he has a tiger?” Bill asked, running to catch up.

  “I rescued stripes from the menagerie of—” the boy shouted to Bill.

  “Don’t want to know!” Syril said again interrupting but then stopped and turned around.

  “It wasn’t the Count’s was it?” He asked.

  The boy shook his head.

  “Perfect,” Syril said. “Now that I think about it, which way back to the city?”

  The boy pointed to his left. Syril looked at the sun’s position in the sky, and with bearing set, changed directions.

  “I can’t believe you don’t care where he got all this druidic power from!” Bill said. “Ellen, you must be curious!”

  Ellen shook her head and then gave Grom a subtle look and said, “The gods seem to be rather liberal with the power they grant. I don’t much care for their magic. I like mine to be repeatable and reliable. Also, explosions are nice.”

  “My goddess—” the boy began again.

  “Is probably a wonderful deity, but we really must be going,” Syril said. “Good luck with your tragic back story and all that.”

  Syril eventually got far enough away from the boy that the trees blocked sight of him, and everyone followed—though Bill was the furthest behind, still looking back at the boy at a loss for words.

  “I don’t understand,” he said.

  “No side quests,” Syril and Grom said in unison.

  “But why not?” Bill said, almost whining.

  “Because they are never worth the trouble,” Grom said. “We do legal jobs that pay from reputable sources with verifiable claims.”

  “But why?”

  Syril stopped and looked at Bill.

  “What do you propose we do?” Syril asked. “We take the word of a tiger stealing boy and go take down his father’s business?”

  “Yes?” Bill said uncertainly.

  “Why?” Syril asked, turning the question around.

  “Because he needed help?” Bill said.

  “Help with watch? Terrorism? Corporate espionage? Deep seated father issues a goddess is exploiting to take down a threat to her domain?” Syril asked. “He was healthy, well fed, and living in a nicer home than any of us. He’s fine.”

  “I have nicer homes,” Linar put in.

  Bill looked to Grom for a lifeline or explanation.

  Grom shrugged, and answered entirely honestly, “I feel no compulsion from my god to aid the boy.”

  That left Bill to ponder on their way back.

  “I think the important takeaway from this lesson is that this was all a coincidence and not my fault,” Ellen said cheerfully.

  “Wrong,” Grom said.

  “How so?”

  “You helped the boy reclaim his missing tiger, and then he ran away to the woods. He wouldn’t have left without his tiger,” Syril said. “Now, if he had been kidnapped, then it would have been a coincidence.”

  “I don’t entirely agree with that,” Ellen said. “And we are never going to get back to town before—”

  She trailed off as Syril parted a branch, revealing the city wall beyond.

  “Night.” She finished weakly. “We were walking in circles.”

  “And that’s why we should have hired a ranger,” Syril said, not at all trying to keep the smugness out of his voice.

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