Thunder rippled across the hillside, and a handful of men and women fell back from the adventurer’s latest position, Sirrochon’s [Booming Cadence] buying the Spellswords and Evermore’s a few moments more as the ‘[Bandits]’ had learned to grow cautious.

  Or perhaps Silver-ranks just know better than Bronze.

  They’d drawn on reserves they didn’t have, and Skills that took a heavy toll, over the past quarter of an hour - fighting a desperate retreat as they tried to head further east against the steadily-increasing quality of their opponents.

  Now truly at the last of her strength, Brunalda gestured to the open ground behind the area they'd picked to make a stand, and another rocky wall four feet high rose up, leaving the adventurers protected on all sides before she collapsed to the blood-covered earth, this time unconscious as the drain on her mana hit.

  Much of the blood was her own.

  But her efforts had given them partial cover from the blades and arrows of their foes. An obstacle to overcome as the [Bandits] swarmed their position once more.

  And that wasn’t all they had.

  As he watched them run up the slope, Sirrochon managed a nasty smile.

  These [Soldiers] don't know what they're facing.

  “[Deadly Refrain].”

  As he spoke, the last word left his mouth with a peal of power, and a blast of sonic energy crashed into the lead [Bandits] and threw them back as the Skill forced [Booming Cadence] to take effect once more.

  His smile was short lived, as the headache he got from combining the two Skills was as bad as any of the wounds he’d taken. Then a pinprick of fire erupted at the top of his arm and he ducked down behind Brunalda’s earthen rampart with an arrow sticking from his shoulder. He pulled it out and tossed it to Fodrin, who put it into his crossbow and pulled the trigger, aiming at one of the bandits with archery Skills.

  “[Returned With Vengeance].”

  The beaver-headed beastkin didn’t react, but Sirrochon heard the piercing scream from outside the walls as another fell to the improvised ammunition the [Deadeye] was sending back at them - his own having long since run out.

  Unfortunately, they seemed to realise they were fuelling Fodrin’s quiver, and as he pulled the last couple out of the pavise he was sheltering behind and sent the [Bandits] ducking for cover, the intermittent rain of arrows stopped entirely.

  There are so many.

  For long moments there was silence, and Sirrochon took the opportunity to check the status of his companions.

  There was only one mobile person defending each of the walls of the improvised fort Brunalda had raised; besides himself, only Eldun, Leaping Mist and Fodrin were in a fit state to fight, and that was being generous. Even as he watched, Fodrin was clearly holding himself upright only by leaning on his shield.

  Quartz was conscious but barely mobile; the leg that had taken a hit before had slowed him down and led to a deep gash that ran down almost to the bone. Short as he was, he was completely obscured by the walls from outside view, and he hobbled around trying to staunch bleeding wounds or shore up the defences when one person was being overwhelmed. Dap had passed out a minute ago but was now pulling herself into a crouch, with a look in her eye that told him she’d finally levelled, and with any luck gained a new Skill, but Chuffa was still down, and with the size of the hole in his gut Sirrochon wasn’t sure the gnoll was still alive.

  And as for Rina, well, the Rogue’s body had been lost as they fled one of their other positions: the youngest and lowest-levelled of them had been the first casualty.

  They always are.

  It was a sad but undeniable inevitability, when things got tough, though they’d all be joining her before the night was through.

  That thought was only reinforced when he risked a peek over the low stone barricade.

  On his approach alone there had to be twelve or thirteen figures minimum crouching down behind rocks or shields, and from the way things had gone, the [Bandits] they’d faced earlier had been the weaker of them. The ones they were facing now, after they’d been forced further south, were more like the [Soldiers] that Sirrochon expected and feared them to be. Still, at least they were still trying to act as though they were [Bandits], and not wearing proper armour or using formations or soldier-like Skills. It gave the adventurers a meagre advantage.

  But even so, only the [Soldiers]’ unfamiliarity with the adventurers’ Skillsets, and fighting in unfavourable terrain, had let the Spellswords and Evermore’s holding out this long. That and the lack of anyone obviously in charge.

  [Soldiers] means better training and gear, and leadership. None of which we've seen yet. But why?

  No group of fighters were leaderless. There wasn’t such a thing as communal decision making when lives were on the line in the heat of battle. Even in adventuring groups, once there were more than three people someone took charge.

  Once those come into play…

  He shifted against the rock-hard barricade, trying to find a position that didn’t hurt - where the lacerations and bruises weren’t pressing on a sharp protrusion of stone, but it was impossible.

  Well, it won’t be a problem much longer.

  —

  Marie scanned the ground for any hint of a trail. [Twilight Vision] and [Basic Tracking] - along with some input from Algar and his crew - had led them off into the wilderness thirty miles down the southern road in record time thanks to the Skills the group shared - almost an hour of running at speeds she’d never have imagined possible before coming to this place. She was at her limit, chest heaving, keeping her mind on what she had to do, not what she felt, lest she collapse.

  “Any help you can give, Napoleon?”

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Her skeletal hound remained silent, as did the twenty-one men and women stood behind her as she paused at a trickle of a stream.

  She bent down, leaning on her spade, and felt at a stone with a scuff on it, and ran her fingers across the depressions in the dry mud. Traces of their passing?

  Or simply natural marks? I am not qualified for this. I need [Advanced Tracking]...

  She took only a few seconds to catch her breath as she stood, and from the strained breathing she could hear, she wasn’t the only one struggling.

  “Algar, do you see anything here?”

  The allagi stepped forwards and knelt, examining the ground with the same tension in his shoulders that she felt.

  “I can’t tell, I’m sorry. We’re more suited to tracking prey.”

  Muttered curses came from a handful of the group, and Marie could almost feel the judgement they had for her as their supposed ‘[Scout]’.

  “Anyone else? Hanen - do you hear anything? Omesia - any clue you can get from [Advanced Dangersense]?”

  A hare-like beastkin and a blonde woman both shook their heads at Thror’s questions, and the beastkin replied.

  “There’s a fight somewhere, but the sound’s bouncing off the terrain too much to get a read on it. I’d guess no more than four or five miles as the bird flies, but I couldn’t say which way”

  His words sparked something in Marie’s mind.

  Birds. Birds fly. I cannot track them, but that is not the only Skill I have!

  Inspiration hit, and she started patting down the pockets of her uniform.

  “Pen! I need a pen and paper. A quill. Ink.”

  A clatter of hooves sounded as Lady Kypria pulled her horse up alongside and tore a square of parchment from her armour, produced a quill from god knew where, and held them out as Marie snatched for them.

  One leg raised to rest on a rock, her thigh a makeshift writing desk, Marie scribbled down the briefest message.

  Hold on. We are coming.

  She folded the paper so quickly it almost tore in her trembling hands, and breathed onto it.

  “[Paperwing Courier]: Sirrochon Brightfeather.”

  As the delicate origami dove shuddered and propelled itself into the air by whatever magic worked the Skills of this world, every eye followed it and every heart stopped for a moment in uncertainty.

  Then it flew off, west-south-west, and the twenty-two strong rescue party and one undead dog surged forwards in its wake.

  —

  Pain split Sirrochon’s head like an axe, this time not from overusing his own Skills.

  He reeled backwards and tripped over Brunalda’s leg.

  In a flash, Eldun was there to cover him as he staggered back to his feet.

  The [Sentinel]’s long spear lanced out and forced another body back from the breech in the wall.

  Fodrin grappled with a [Bandit] who was struggling to stab him in the side until Leaping Mist sprang like his namesake and severed the man’s spine.

  Eight dead? At least if they don’t get healing soon. It’s not enough. These ones are so much tougher...

  “We’re too. Exposed.” Sirrichon gasped to his counterpart as another '[Bandit]' came at him. “[Caesura]!” The man’s blade halted mid-swing and Sirrochon’s own darted into the gap and in between his ribs. “We have to retreat.”

  As if to highlight his words, a javelin came out of the darkness, narrowly missing Sirrochon and Eldun, but hitting one target as they heard the soft thunk of it sinking into Brunalda’s unresponsive chest, and then Sirrochon and Eldun were both too hard-pressed to say anything at all.

  —

  Thror sprang round, morningstar raised, as a frantic galloping of hooves came from behind, drumming faster than any horse had a right to.

  Chiritta was even faster, leaping on top of a rock with her staff at the ready, and a handful of other adventurers managed to react in time, but Omesia with her [Advanced Dangersense] failed to notice anything.

  Which would have suggested the nature of the rider if they’d had time to stop and think.

  Fila Entoll rode past in a blur of equine limbs before pulling hard on the reins, her mount skidding to a halt in a spray of dirt.

  “I’m sorry I’m late. Father disagreed with my coming. What way are we going?”

  No one paused to question additional help. Half a dozen hands pointed to where the [Paperwing Courier] was still visible thanks to a light spell Embris had cast on it, and the noble’s daughter nodded as she looked round, counting the number of adventurers.

  “I can speed us all up I think, but it will take everything I have - I’ll be drained if it comes to a fight.”

  “When it comes to a fight.” Thror stood for a second in silence before nodding. “Do it. Time is of the essence.”

  Fila began to hum, then wove words into the tune until Marie could sense the faint thrum of magic in the air around her. When it had reached a level the young woman deemed suitable, she shouted her Spell, and a wave of energy hit Marie and she suddenly seemed to weigh half as much as she was used to, and have twice as much power in her limbs as before.

  “{Chant of Celerity}!”

  One of the adventurers gave a cry of delight, and with that they began racing after the glowing trail of the paperwing, searching for those they were trying to save.

  It wasn’t long before they came across the first signs of battle, though at first there were no bodies.

  Then, they began to come across the fallen.

  —

  “We have to run!” Sirrochon panted as he parried a cut to his arm and attempted to counter. His strike went wide as leaden arms refused to respond. “We’re too exposed - we need our backs to a wall.”

  The barricades that Brunalda had raised had been breached so many times they were little more than heaped rubble. Despite anticipating a last stand, Sirrochon was finding out with every passing moment that his instincts wouldn’t stop screaming at him to get away. To find somewhere better. Not to give up.

  This can’t be the end. I don’t want it to end. Who will sing our song?

  Eldun was swaying on his feet. Armour was all well and good, and no doubt he was bleeding less than the rest of them, but it was added weight, and it didn’t stop the blunt trauma when a blade glanced off his breastplate or an axe struck his helmet.

  “We can’t leave Brun.” Eldun raised his visor for a second as he spat out a mouthful of blood, revealing a sweat-drenched face before it fell and he charged forwards to crash bodily into a pair of bandits and threw them back.

  One that looked part-orc snarled something in a language neither of them understood and charged in, sword swinging, but Dap darted in from the side, singing with a voice long-since gone hoarse, her blade and dagger lengthening mid-strike, plunging into his neck and groin. Even as the man-orc died, he spat out a Skill and whirled around, opening his own wounds even further and sending blood spraying as the weapons ripped out of him, but disarming Dap and slicing into her side.

  As she fell back, so did the [Bandits], wary of what remained of the two adventuring groups, and seemingly content to wait for their own Skills to recharge with the advantage of numbers.

  Sirrochon tore a strip from his shirt and handed it to Quartz to bandage Dap’s torso.

  “We’ve got no chance, Eld, but we’ve got even less in the open here.”

  A cough from behind would’ve made them jump if they hadn’t been so exhausted.

  “...It’s fine. You should all go…” Brunalda didn’t have the energy left to sit up, but she turned a head that was awash with dried blood in their direction. “...You’re all so small you can probably slip away…” She smiled, revealing missing teeth where a [Bandit] with a hammer had tried to stop her casting a spell. “...I’ve got a new Skill. Finally hit level 23. But I don’t think it’s one I’ll be surviving…”

  Weighted glances passed between the rest of the groups, but even half-blind from the darkness and crusted blood the goliath could sense it.

  “...go. I can’t run. But you can.”

  Dap was crying. Sirro felt sick, but there was no denying the truth behind her words. If they could find a cave to retreat into, or a cliff to put their backs against…

  They all began to edge around to the south-eastern side of the hilltop as one of Brunalda’s massive arms levered herself into a sitting position, the other hanging loosely by her side. All of them, except Quartz.

  The quarterling stepped up and laid a hand on the goliath’s knee.

  “I left you once, Bru. I’m not going to do it again.”

  Her head drooped forward and red droplets fell in the darkness.

  “That doesn’t mean I’ll take you back.”

  “I know.”

  Then there were a few seconds of silence as the [Bandits] worked up the courage to charge the hilltop with the figure that had laid so many of them out now conscious once more. Missiles began to fly, and before they lost vision of their friends for good, the fleeing adventurers caught sight of Quartz leaping through the air on his one good leg in an attempt to bat arrows and stones out of the way.

  But there were too many.

  As they passed out of sight, they heard a booming voice roll out across the hillside.

  “[From Blood, Mana].”

  And then the night sky behind them lit up with arcane power.

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