MacKensie scanned the vicinity of the west-facing side of the Temple, her sharp eyes and ears alert for any signs of trouble. After deeming the coast clear, she sighed and took a moment to watch the sunset, which everyday in this world was a vibrant and beautiful sight, almost cartoonish in it's purples, reds and oranges of saturated colour bleeding across the sky.

She was already missing Lillianna. In spite of not really bonding with the woman the way she'd bonded with the likes of Fenna or Adam, nor having the instant chemistry she felt she'd found with the likes of James or Zell, Lillianna was still 'one of them.' She was Second Chance, and her presence and friendship was valued by the frenchwoman. And with the dangers of this world on display so often, she found herself not entirely sure she'd see the white-haired wizard ever again. It was depressing. Just another problem to add to the pile.

She could hear Barracker speaking about wraiths and so she turned about and headed back the twenty yards or so to the camp at the Temple entrance, pausing her patrol to listen to the paladin's lesson and his briefing about the likely layout of the temple. When Fenna and Zell started discussing their options, MacKensie continued her patrol, leaving the decision-making to the brighter minds of the group. She was not the sharpest when it came to strategy, certainly not as sharp as James, Fenna and Zell, who'd already proven to be valuable in this regard.

On to the east-facing side of the temple she went, senses searching, when she suddenly stopped mid-step, hearing movement. Within the blink of an eye, she was in a side-on stance with her one-handed crossbow drawn and pointing at an intruder who'd jumped out behind her.

"Die cultist!"

She'd almost fired. Her finger was a single unit of pressure away from pulling the half-pressed trigger, but her instincts and reflexes stopped her making the mistake. The wizard who'd tried to ambush her had also almost fired. Both of them stood paused in a stand-off. The wizard lowered his wand. MacKensie was not so quick to mirror him.

"You are not a cultist."

MacKensie blinked, her breathing erratic as her adrenaline subsided. Finally she spoke. "No, I am not."

"You have my sincere apologies."

When the dwarf appeared from behind the rock, his shivering demeanour and lack of a weapon made MacKensie lower her guard. She finally put her weapon away, eager to hear an explanation for this sudden appearance. And she got one. More bad news. She shook George's hand.

"MacKensie Trydant, of Second Chance," was her introduction. "We intend to save who we can in there. The full moon's light will open the entrance tonight, rest assured in that."

When Adam spoke, MacKensie was reminded of wicked deceptions already put upon the villagers of the local area. A pang of apphrehension hit her heart, stood now within arms reach of a potential threat who was clearly powerful. But it was the visage of the dwarf that gave her confidence in the integrity of the strangers. Hardul was obviously no threat, unless he was the finest actor she'd ever seen, the dwarf's fear was palpable. She, however, remained ready to draw her weapon again, should George show any resistance to whatever Barracker would say next.

Whatever response came from his teammates, in terms of a favoured path through the temple, digesting their answers would have to wait. Zell span around at the alarming sound of an intruding voice, his hand wrapped around the black, leather bound hilt of the sword on his back. His reaction speed left a lot to be desired, seeing as by the time he saw what was going on, MacKensie and the unknown wizard were pointing weapons at eachother and could easily have let fly bolts and magic before the swordsman had a chance to do anything.

But they didn't start shooting, merely trading a few words that dissolved the situation. When MacKensie put away her crossbow, it was enough to make Zell release his grip on his own weapon, although his feet did slightly shift position as his leg muscles coiled like springs ready to burst him into action, his teleport ready to aid him in covering the distance.

"I am George of the adventurer party, Hidden Hand," he greeted, limping forward and offering to shake MacKensie's hand. "We underestimated the numbers of the cult..."

Zell's bullshit alarm was blaring like an air raid siren in WW2. As the man spoke, Zell found himself less interested in what he could hear and far more interested in what he could see. He squinted to get a better look at George's left hand, which happened to be within sight. The sight of a Source Crystal would have been all the Englishman needed to feel better about the situation, but low-n-behold; the bastard was wearing gloves.

Hidden hand, eh, Zell thought. Fucking convenient. Convenient indeed. And just like that, Zell was hit with a gut-wrenching realisation... Shit! Lillianna might be in trouble.

It had all seemed too far-fetched that Lillianna had to leave at once to save this ghost of hers. And losing their wizard right before showtime was just far too convenient for their enemy. Fuck! Why hadn't he realised sooner? It wasn't for certain - Sister Gwen might indeed be innocent - but they shouldn't have been allowed to leave without first being interrogated. Zell was completely off in his own world, missing the end of George's words and MacKensie's also. His eyes were looking about the floor as he thought about how far away Lillianna had gotten and if there was any logistical way they could catch her and still get back in time before the entrance to the temple sealed shut again. There was no way to know, but the odds were surely against them.

Zell looked up as Adam spoke up, brought back to the present to catch the young American's polite show of suspicion. The druid had asked Barracker for advice on how to proceed, but Zell had plans of his own, interrupting before the vampire had a chance to respond.

"Calm down, mate," Zell said with a smirk to Adam, and a gesture for Barracker to hold a moment. He started walking towards George. "Can't you see these men have been through enough already." And then to George himself as he neared; "You'll have to forgive my friend, he's a little on edge right now. Zell Brooks."

He offered his hand to shake. His left hand. And as he shook George's hand, his thumb brushed the back of the wizard's left hand, searching for the feel of a Source Crystal. Now this would go one of two ways:

Either A>>He would feel the marble-smoothness of the Source Crystal beneath the man's glove. In which case, he would smile with relief and give a nod to the dwarf also. "You two must be hungry. Why don't you come and have a seat?"

Or B>>>He would feel nothing. And Zell would proceed to twist the wizard's arm up behind his back and slam him face-first into the dirt, not letting go George's hand, putting a foot on lying bastard's back and peeling the glove off to show everyone that he wasn't an adventurer at all. "No source crystal! He's fucking lying. All these bastards around here are fucking compromised."

George bowed his head in response to MacKensie, a look of gratitude on his face, but Adam's suspicion was quick to straighten the wizard's posture. He wasn't sure what he could say to convince them he was no threat, but then Zell came towards him with a more welcoming tone. The handshake was weird though. Not that it was left-handed, but he could clearly feel the man caressing the back of his hand with his thumb.

Is he... flirting with me? George thought. Well, I do keep myself well-groomed but-

George wasn't allowed to finish his thought as he suddenly felt the overwhelming sensation of pain in his elbow and shoulder. "Arrgh!" Then he found himself heading towards the floor at great pace. His face smashed into dirt and he was sure he'd broken his nose, pain exploding to new heights. Dizzy and drifting unconcious only for more pain to sober him up as Zell handled his twisted arm, revealing his lack of a Source Crystal. Curse the Quinity!

"GETT THEMMM!!!" he yelled as loudly as he could.

And his fellow cult members came out of hiding, weapons at the ready.

4 men with bows appeared on the temple roof, nocking arrows and making targets of Second Chance. 8 more jumped out from behind columns and statues with swords and spears. They charged the adventurer party.

It was time to fight!



Sister Gwen and Lillianna were on horses making good time as they galloped back to Valhiem, but Gwen saw a tiny figure on the evening horizon. Their speed made the figure grow bigger fast.

"There is someone ahead in the road," she shouted to Lillianna.



Lillianna, who'd been deep in thought about yesterday's studies, trying to remember what she'd learned about Spirit Magic and the Light Domain that might be useful, looked at Sister Gwen, then registered what she'd said and looked down the road ahead.

It looked vaguely familiar as they neared. Then she realised who it was.

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“Calm down, mate.”

Adam arched an eyebrow at Zell, wondering what he was thinking. The Druid knew the swordsman wasn't naive to the situation, but this still seemed too casual. Nick had described how this cult operated, including a certain mustachioed-

The mustache, dangit! We're in danger, I have to-

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by Zell's handshake maneuver. Stepping up, or in this case, twisting and slamming when it counted. The red-eyed man cursed himself for missing Nick's clue. Whether it was because it was such a small detail or because he was thinking about Lillianna and the team's future really didn't matter right now. As the evil man's cronies began their assault on Second Chance, Adam knew he would do his best to prevent them from being harmed, and he was already prepared to do so.

Casting his magic, he created two sets of vines that rose out from the ground, grabbing two of the spearmen and entangling them. Before they could do anything, the Druid threw them against two of the swordsmen, knocking down all four combatants like bowling pins. And while they were stunned on the ground, the fisherman grew thick tree roots around each of their necks, choking them to death instantly as the force of the plant matter crushed the rods below their heads and prevented them from breathing.

Adam knew these cultists would have other tricks up their sleeve, so while he was happy there were four less of them, he stayed alert to be prepared for whatever they tried next.

James watched with peeled eyes as Zell approached the new figures, he had been about to offer aid to the one who seemed hurt but Zell's actions gave him pause, he had known the man for a couple days now and he felt confident the man was far from stupid, even less so when dealing with social matters. So he just watched as he did his thing, trusting in his instincts the same way he trusted the other members of the party in their own ways.

"No source crystal! He's fucking lying. All these bastards around here are fucking compromised."

"FUCK!"

He reacted at the same time as Adam but where the former took aggressive measures he focused on protection. He had a shiny new spell for defense but they were too separated to use it effectively so instead he used the familiar blessing.

"I call to you Lord Undaya, Ruler of the seas and King of the ocean, bestow upon us your blessing, to be as cold and unwavering as you are in the deep below"

Guided mostly by instinct he took his anchor and with a small flourish slammed it against the ground, the moment it made contact with the ground he could feel the familiar shield enveloping his party. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind but he let them go, focusing on the battlefield.

"Shields up! Take care of the archers, don't let them interfere, the rest focus on the mage! Don't let him cast!"

He had counterspell but its uses were limited and this was just the beginning, he had to manage his resources if he wanted to keep everyone alive.

Nobody was going to die, not again.

Barracker listened to the discussion about how best to proceed inside the temple, Fenna appearing to favour the more direct route towards the wraith in the main chamber. Zell made it clear that only the longer route around would be stealthy.

“Normally I would…” As he started to give his opinion, Barracker’s muscles tensed, as his hearing picked up movement that did not belong to the party. The Paladin looked towards where it came from and stood up, weapon at the ready as a stranger popped into sight.

"Die cultist!" the stranger said.

Luckily no blood was spilled and the fact that the stranger thought he was attacking a cultist suggested the man might be an ally. Having already been in the temple, as he explained, he might be able to give the crucial facts and key information that would lead to success.

“It is nice to meet you both. I'm sorry for what happened to your friends. However, I hope you understand our need to be careful” Adam seemed suspicious of the stranger, rightly so, who then pointed a question to Barracker. “is there any way we can know for sure if they're with the cult?”

Barracker thought a source crystal would go a long way towards proving the stranger's story of belonging to an adventurer party. He was about to say as much until Zell interrupted, gesturing for them to let him take the lead.

"Can't you see these men have been through enough already." Zell’s attitude seemed calm and collected, once again reminding Barracker of his best friend Krillen. He knew that Zell was up to something and waited for it to play out. And when it did, resulting in George’s cover being blown, Barracker didn’t even have time to smile that ‘great minds think alike,’ his keen sense of hearing picked up multiple pairs of shuffling feet in the surrounding area.

“We have company!” Barracker yelled as he jumped into action.

"FUCK!"

"GETT THEMMM!!!"

As James and Adam began casting, Barracker was already zooming ahead, putting himself in between the ambushers and the vulnerable position of Zell, MacKensie and George. His first thought was to protect his friends but he also isolated the mage from George’s party.

As the ambushers came running towards them, Barracker jumped into a shield bash that crushed a swordsman’s face, blood and teeth flying through the air. He then flowed into a spinning sweep of his claymore, taking a second man off his feet. Amidst the carnage he heard James’ battle commands and backed up a few steps, shield up, to George, Zell and MacKensie.

He would make sure George would not be able to cast , by attempting to give the man a whack on the back of the skull with the rim of his shield, just hard enough to knock him unconscious. He would try to keep George alive for later interrogation.

How did he...?

It didn't matter how he figured it out. He was right. And as Zell exposed George's lack of a Source crystal - causing the wizard to yell for his friends - MacKensie was released from her shock, eyes darting about to mark the enemies all around and above. Once more she drew her one-handed crossbow, bolt pre-loaded and cocked, hand-speed beyond human. Her first bolt hit one of the men who got tangled up in the vines of Adam, and she reloaded while strafing to her right, circling a little to get a better look at where the arrows starting raining down from. Her second bolt was aimed at one of the archers, not two seconds after her first. It hit a cultist in his arm just before the man could fire his arrow, causing his aim to wildly deviate and his arrow to fly off harmlessly.

Barracker's speed and ferocity was unreal. He wielded the claymore as if it was a shortsword, and the massive tower shield looked as light as a feather in his hands. The vampire had dove in first like the wind, taking the pressure off them - proving that his terrifying visage wasn't just for show. Adam's magic was also unbelievably immense. Clearly more comfortable with his powers, the druid was quick to react and took out four enemies before they could even cross the distance.

"I call to you Lord Undaya, Ruler of the seas and King of the ocean, bestow upon us your blessing, to be as cold and unwavering as you are in the deep below"

And there it was; that familiar feeling of a magical boost coursing through her body. MacKensie had never thought to ask James exactly what Undaya's blessing did to the party, but it felt like strength. She couldn't detect the physical endurance boost that it gave, but she could certainly feel the other side - the mental endurance.

Confidence. Courage. The readiness to face any situation. The ability to endure whatever this world could throw at her. And that's exactly how she felt right now.

James' orders were clear and concise. By this point the Ranger had fired three more bolts and rapidly reloaded, but now she clipped her crossbow back into the holster at the small of her back, dashed a step over to Barracker, who was taking care of George. "The wizard is all yours," she spoke into his ear with a hand on his shoulder after approaching him from behind, then she went to Zell who was next to the paladin. "We need to get up there and stop them," she told him urgently, then waved him closer with one hand while the other fired her magical grapplehook up to the lip of the temple roof. Wrapping her free arm around his waist, she gave him half a second to do the same to her. "Hold on tight." Then they ascended at speed, going from 0-60mph almost instantly.

The archers fired down at the upcoming pair, panicked looks on their faces, their aim failing them. Just before they hit the roof, MacKensie let go Zell and the grapplehook released and disappeared, the speed and momentum having both the ranger and the swordsman fly up and above the archers who almost fell on their rears as they reeled backwards. MacKensie drew both crossbow and dagger before she landed, blocking an attack from the first archer to meet her - a wiry individual who decided he'd try to strike the frenchwoman with his bow like it was a stick. All it did was strike her dagger, leaving him open for a point-blank bolt under the chin.

The second archer she faced had used his extra time to draw a sword, but his swing missed as MacKensie ducked then hopped backwards nimbly, bouncing on her toes like a boxer as her opponent let out a war cry and charged her for a second attack. She side-stepped the downwards strike, slashing his hand to disarm him and smacking him around the the back of his head with her crossbow to send him stumbling towards Zell.

Her instant reload had her follow up with an arrogant shot selection; choosing to ignore the stumbling and disarmed archer, and firing a bolt right by Zell's ear to hit one of the men he was fighting.

"Three drinks," she proclaimed with closed eyes and big smile, putting up three fingers on her dagger-hand.

With Undaya's blessing, she was invincible, and boy! did she act like it.

When it appeared they'd be attacked, Fenna had her spear ready, but soon they turned out to be adventurers like themselves. So many cultists that only two remained of a party? That made her pause and ponder, but maybe these two could accompany them? Zell moved in for his greeting and things happened quickly. Four archers appeared on top, eight more came out of hiding on ground level, James gave them a blessing and Barracker charged forward. Even though there were more swords and spears, the archers were a source of concern.

Two spear-wielders approached her, smirking at her shorter spear.

Sil caught on her feeling of worry Fenna looked at the archers and she swooped down, talons ready, onto one of the archers just as Mackensie and Zell came up. The archer backed away as he tried to shield himself, fell off the roof and landed on the ground. Sil couldn't determine if he was unconscious or dead, and lacked the conscience to care, and launched a talon attack at one of the spearmen.

With only one to worry about, Fenna grabbed her spear with a second hand as it grew in length until it was longer than her opponent's spear and she thrust it forward. The other backed away to dodge her attack and used his spear to deflect her charge. They moved back and forth, attacking and deflecting until Fenna crouched down and pierced her opponent's thigh. He let out a cry of pain and stumbled back a bit, covering his wound with a hand. Fenna used this moment to thrust her spear forward again, this time piercing skin and flesh in his abdomen.

With one opponent less to worry about, she quickly glanced over the area to see how everyone was doing and who would be her next target.

“We have company!” Barracker yelled as he jumped into action.

"FUCK!" - "FUCK!" Zell and James cursed in perfect unison, which might've been funny in a situation that wasn't so serious.

Zell cast George's arm aside and stepped forward, drawing his sword and lowering into Water Stance, weight shifted onto his back foot, sword held high in one hand behind him. The enemy outnumbered them and Zell gritted his teeth, waiting patiently for them to waste some energy sprinting to him. Six of them were heading his way, and he knew that he would have to be flawless here, to come out on top.

But it was awesome to have friends.

Barracker suddenly came into view, rushing forward and smashing his shield into the face of one cultist. Vines and roots sprang from the ground and started man-handling a group of the enemy. James' magic started flowing through him. Within the space of seconds, the odds had been evened.

Zell was eager to make contribution of his own to the fight, now edging forward into a more aggressive Moon Stance, but the remaining two spearmen were heading away from him. At the moment, he seemed to be surplus to requirements.

"Shields up! Take care of the archers, don't let them interfere, the rest focus on the mage! Don't let him cast!"

"Gotcha bossman!" Zell replied loudly, he and Barracker closing back in on George. The vampire had things covered on the ground, so when MacKensie offered him a lift up to the roof, he gladly accepted, wrapping an arm around her tiny waist. "Going up?" he quipped, before they rocketed to the roof.

He could see the fear in the whites of the archers' eyes and he grinned evilly as they closed in. One of the arrows fired at them was on target, but Zell deflected it with a perfectly-timed parry. He let go of MacKensie in sync with her and they flew up before swooping down on the enemy.

The simple archers stood no chance against the speed, skill and chemistry of the duo from Europe.

Zell was afforded an undisturbed landing due to the timely appearance of Sil who ferociously clawed at the head of the archer closest to the swordsman, who was crying in agony and flapping his arms about to try and shoo the falcon away. Sil was relentless, and Zell merely had to walk up and give the archer a helping hand off the roof with a stiff kick to the midsection. "Cheers, lovely!" he shouted to Sil as she flew off to help Fenna down below.

The other archer in his path was no longer holding a bow but dual-wielding daggers, his stance suggesting a respectable amount of skill and know-how, but Zell was not discouraged and engaged him gladly, breaking out into a series of <rings> and <chings> as they rapidly exchanged attacks. Now he was having fun. "How are you doing back there, doll?" he shouted over his shoulder to MacKensie, parrying his opponents lunge and spinning backwards so he could spare a glance at the ranger. She was doing just fine. One of her opponents was already dead.

Zell looked down to see the battle on the ground was pretty-much over and so he continued to toy with the dual-wielder for a moment longer until his fun came to an end when a bolt whizzed by his ear, causing him to almost crap his pants in alarm. He dodged reflexively after the fact, his opponent taking the bolt between the eyes and dropping lifelessly, and he turned around offended. "Double-you-tee-eff mate!"

"Three drinks," was the bullshit claim!

"You're having..." he walked forward and shoved the disarmed man who'd stumbled his way cruelly off the roof. "..a bloody laugh, girl. There's no way that counts!"

He shook his head, trying not laugh at the cheeky woman, walking up to her as he slipped his sword back into its scabbard, then folded his arms defiantly. "I didn't even get to kill anyone," he sulked as he stood next to her, surveying the ground below as the last spearman alive, aswell as George, were now surrounded by Second Chance. "This battle is pretty-much over," he mused. "Shall we go back down, then?"

George was in a position on the floor to see his fellow cult members dying as easily as sheep against wolves. While his left arm was hurting like hell and he'd lost his wand, he fortunately had a spare one on his belt and so he pulled it out and got up just enough to start casting.

THUNK!

Barracker's shield smacked the back of his head, the vampire's controlled strength doing just enough to knock him out without causing permanent harm.

The two men who fell off the temple roof both broke their legs on the landing and were writhing around on the floor in agony. The one swordsman who got intimately acquainted with Barracker's tower shield was missing some teeth and unconcious, but very-much alive. Another swordsman aswell as a spearman were both quickly bleeding to death, pale as ghosts, one with a hole in his gut and the other missing a leg.

After escaping the clutches of Sil's attack, the last remaining spearman was about to charge at Fenna until he realised that he was the only one still fighting. He quickly dropped his weapon, raised his hands in surrender and dropped to his knees in a plea for mercy.



Whatever the party chose to do next with their time, and with the surviving cultists, after an hour or two, the clouds would part to unviel the full moon. The entrance to the Temple of Hades would open up, the wall of rock that previously blocked it shimmering before disappearing.

Barracker knelt beside the cultists who were bleeding to death painfully, mortal wounds spelling their end. One by one each had their turn to say their last words, one was very touching about their late wife, and the final was a cursed remark towards the vampire. Both, though, came with a form of the same tone to the voice, and expression planted on each of their faces. Anguish and fear, it was, such a sorrow only Hades knew too much. “May Hades judge you in the afterlife, and join your loved ones in the hollow fields” he said as he raised to his feet. Then he stabbed each of them directly in the heart for a quick mercy killing that would end their suffering.

He muttered a silent prayer to Hades, while wiping the blood off his sword.

Barracker went to Adam and put a hand on his comrades shoulder and said, “well done,” His tone was solemn. Killing other people was not to be taken or done lightly, but the Druid caster reacted fast and swung the momentum of the fight in their favor, taking out several ambushers. “Without your spell, that could have gone so differently,” Barracker said, looking into the distance before giving a small nod to the young man.

As he came to stand next to Fenna, he first held out his arm to Sil as an invitation for the Falcon to perch upon him. If Sil trusted the vampire enough to join him, then Barracker would pet her gently and then let her fly away. Either way, he would thank the bird for her assistance in the battle. “Fenna the Aurok Slayer does not disappoint,” he privately joked with Fenna, but then he said more seriously. “You outclassed that spearman. Phenomenal."

Eventually the Paladin walked over to his leader. “James, thank you for the blessing, I feel I’m able to fight forever like this. Should we tie up the survivors? With your permission, I would like to interrogate their leader George. What do you say… Good guard, Bad guard?” Barracker gave a slight smirk, his eyes glancing over the unconscious cult leader. If the cleric agreed, then they would begin the interrogation and get whatever information they could….

“Well done. Without your spell, that could have gone so differently.”

Barracker's words and gestures of praise, solemn as they were, shook Adam away from the “battle mode” that he had been in. After thanking the man, the younger one reflected on what had just happened. The fight, in fact, had ended much more quickly than the Druid expected and he thought there might have been a trap or something waiting for them. Instead, only a surrendering spearman and unconscious mage remained alive out of the group that had attacked them. After the last two battles, it all felt kind of unreal. Were they improving, or was this just Mytheria's way of getting them complacent before something awful happened? If it was the latter, the red-eyed man had no intention of letting this new world succeed.

Hearing the vampire's plan, Adam figured at least the “tie them up” part of the plan would be something he could start. “Put your hands behind your back and hold still please” he said to the remaining conscious enemy, as he summoned vines from the ground that meticulously entrapped the guy, starting with plant matter that wrapped around his wrists like immovable handcuffs before detaching from the ground. Then more vines circled around him, tying up his body like a rope-bound prisoner in an old western movie. Finally, Adam grew and detached a thick root, wrapping it around the spearman's neck. And he wasn't the best at interrogation, but the Druid did notice Barracker only wanted to talk to the leader.

“Don't try anything. Oh, and if there's anything you know about the temple, we'd appreciate it if you told us.” The fisherman tried to make it sound casual, like it was an afterthought. He figured the sight of his dead friends or the feeling of material that could kill him if a caster wanted to might be enough to motivate this guy into talking, but Adam was no interrogator.

At least the spearman would be easy to counter if he was, in fact, dumb enough to try anything. 

MacKensie chuckled at Zell's protest, slowly strutting with a cocky air as she met him halfway along the rooftop. She always enjoyed getting the upperhand on their bantering rivalry. A sigh of relief left her as they looked at the results of the battle below. The adrenaline subsided along with Undaya's blessing, her shoulders relaxing and heartbeat returning to resting rate.

"I didn't even get to kill anyone."

Her eyes widened with shock and MacKensie smacked Zell's arm, a disgusted expression on her face. "Do not say things like that, Zell. It would have been much better if we all could have gotten through that fight without having to kill anybody." She shook her head and looked away. "You would do well to remember that these people have been brainwashed. They are as much victims of this situation as the people down there," she nodded pointedly to the village that could be seen in the distance, then turned back to the swordsman, her eyebrows tilting from offended to almost-pleading. "Please... try to be more considerate of these things. We must be responsible with the power we wield."

She hoped he would heed the lecture, but did not hold her breath. She hooked her arm around him to prepare for their descent, firing her grapplehook at the rooftop's edge. When she felt his arm wrap around her waist, she faltered a moment, the heat of battle no longer masking her easily-flustered nature. And in her mind came visions from the dream she'd had last night. Her cheeks flushed red and she looked away, composing herself before, "Let's go," they stepped off the edge of the roof in tandem and descended safely to the ground.

It was back on the ground that she suddenly remembered the frightened face of the dwarf who'd first showed himself with George - Hardul was his name, she recalled. She did not see him take part in the battle and wondered if he was among the defeated. She walked right past the archers who'd broken their legs in the fall off the roof, searching for the dwarf. As she did so, she caught a look at the busted face of the man who was unlucky enough to get smashed by Barracker's shield. Her face creased in second-hand pain for the man. Unlucky, for sure, but at least he was alive.

Seeing that Adam was clamping down the survivors with tree roots and vines, and Barracker and James were dealing with George, the frenchwoman took a look around to make sure they hadn't missed Hardul the dwarf.

The battle was resolved in the blink of an eye.

Perhaps it was a testament to their growth as individuals, or maybe the enemies they had encountered until now had all been on another level compared to the average adventurer, whatever the case he felt relieved that it was over and that none of his party members were injured but he didn't allow himself to relax, this was an ambush, that meant it was predetermined. "Fuck" He didn't like it, they were being expected and if the enemy was competent enough to set an ambush then.. Fuck he sub estimated the mind behind this, this whole encounter was likely designed to fail, either they got killed or they revealed what they could do and their roles inside the party.

His scowl worsened, this was bad, he was getting more and more paranoid, there were 14 attackers, and if they felt comfortable throwing away that amount then what kind of force was inside? 'This is bad, this is bad!', Were they walking into a trap? Did they know they lacked magical firepower? They were going to be killed and it was going to be his fault ´THIS IS BAD!´ He knew they should have taken the Silver contracts, now they were doomed, the monster inside was going to kill them and it would be his fault, just like the guards, just like Clive and Arthur, his fault, they would doom the town and its villagers, his fault, his party members just killed people and he couldn't do anything! 'THIS IS BA-!'

...

His thoughts stopped, the metaphorical coldness of the Blessing settled against his forehead and the reassuring weight of the anchor soothed his trembling shoulders, closing his eyes he took a ragged breath, held it for a couple seconds then released it, again and again until he felt himself calm down. Panic wouldn't help anyone and he was being a big worrywart, an ambush was no mastermind level of planning, just clever, this amount of people was around the estimated so it would make sense they committed on the first strike expecting a weaker party.

They would be fine, he would make sure of it.

Looking around to make sure no one had caught his little slip he made his way towards the downed enemy leader.

“James, thank you for the blessing, I feel I’m able to fight forever like this. Should we tie up the survivors? With your permission, I would like to interrogate their leader George. What do you say… Good guard, Bad guard?”

He looked at the other man, he was conflicted, not because they were going to interrogate the cultist, but because of how easy it was to justify to himself using more ´forceful´ methods. He was not even sure the man was a cultist to begin with, they could be just brainwashed for all they knew. He was not going to comment upon it however, he could tell some of his party members had not even thought about that and he was not going to give them that kind of doubt.

"Where we come from we call it Bad Cop, Worse Cop" He gave a chuckle he didn't really feel, he was going to do this. The first step was to make the other man feel isolated so the fewer people he could see the better, he had an uncomfortable understanding of interrogation tactics that he had neither the time nor inclination to apply but making the target feel alone and afraid was the most basic start. He should convey that to his party members.

"Hey guys, Kass and me are going to interrogate this guy, we will do it behind those trees so try to remain quiet" Saying so he motioned to Barracker to help him drag the unconscious (and tied) man "Hey Kass, mind helping me move him?" They weren't going to hurt him too much, not physically at least.

Quietly, he prayed to the gods of this world, to forgive him for what he was planning to do.


"Hey, you are finally awake"

A face full of water tends to do so but he kept quiet, watching as the man rose to wakefulness, his eyes filling with fear and then confusion as he looked at him. He imagined he would do so, Barracker was out of his sight so the only one he could see was him, the Cleric squatting to his eye level, the only one of those monsters that didn't kill any of his fellow cultists, smiling in a friendly manner and with a gentle voice.

"We want to talk"

At his words G- the man's eyes filled with defiance, his anger momentarily overpowering his fear, emboldening him enough to open his mouth and say something.

Good

"Kass, hurt him"

He spoke before the other man could.

The first step was isolation, the second was giving the illusion of control and then taking it away, leaving the target vulnerable. He waited patiently for Barracker to finish, looking at the actions of the vampiric man without adverting his gaze, he was in part responsible for these actions so it wouldn't do to shy away from them. Once Barracker was done he moved slowly towards the tied man, then tenderly cuped the cheek of the other man and forced him to look at him.

"Sorry friend, I was not clear enough, we want to talk, you will talk"

He kept smiling the whole time.

The man who was tied up first by Adam, watched the Druid with disdain, but the root around his neck was tight enough to let him know how easily he could lose his life, so he watched his tongue. His name was Lars, and he firmly believed that his soul would enjoy an eternal shower of hedonism and pleasure, if he continued to serve his new master.

Oh, how he wanted to spit at Adam's feet and hurl the most despicable insults he could possibly muster. But he also valued his life and had faith that if he just stayed put and let the adventurers go march to their own demise, order would be restored and his brothers would free him.

"I have nothing to say to you," he told Adam. And that was all he would say.



As soon as the trap sprung on Second Chance and the cultists charged, Hardul had charged in the opposite direction, away from the battle and dove over the rock he was previously hiding behind. There he hid, hoping that he could remain unseen until he saw a chance to crawl away and back down the hill to Cherrad. Unlike the cultists, Hardul wasn't under any kind of mind control. He was simply a coward who was being bullied by George and the secret agent of the cult, Feanor Moss, who was keeping the dwarf on a short leash and making him work for them.

The failed ambush had turned into a quick slaughter, but to Hardul it felt like he'd been hiding for forever. And it seemed that he was out of luck, because MacKensie was drawing closer and would almost certainly sniff him out soon. When he peeked to see if she'd passed him, he thought she saw him and, in a panic, the dwarf got up and made a run for it.

He wasn't the fastest creature on two legs but he sprinted all the same, without looking back, hoping that they had given up on chasing him.



"Aaaggghh!!!"

George was sweating from the overwhelming pain, his heart beating hard and breathing heavy. James watched on with passive, merciless eyes. He was maybe more frightening than even Barracker. What was worse was the thought that the vampire was just getting warmed up. Who knew what such a monster could really do if he tried. It was this thought alone that made George realise that he had to say something. He had to give them something, anything, or things would likely get much, much worse for him.

"Alright, I'll talk," he spluttered. He said a few generic things about the temple, the cult and their objectives, but eventually he got to something that Second Chance could actually use to their advantage. "You want our master right? Drath'tuthan himself? You will find him in the main chamber. In the entrance hall, take the doors on the right and follow the corridor to the temple library. The bookshelves on the back wall at the end of the room. On the left side, middle shelf, there is a book called, 'Shattered Dreams.' It is no book, it's a hidden lever that will open a secret door that'll lead you right to the main chamber without having to go through forty men and traps to get there."

George stared hopefully at James, before glancing at Barracker and cowering again. "There. I talked. Now please... No more."

To call Marsel Brooks 'obtuse,' would be like calling the Atlantic 'wet,' or Einstein 'clever.' It would be like saying that the Titanic 'ran into a little problem,' or describing Rasputin as 'a little off.' Zell's insensitivity could only be matched by the thickness of his skull and size of his ego. So when MacKensie managed to get through to him so fast and so effectively, it surprised even him. The young woman deserved a Nobel Prize.

"Yeah, you're right," Zell conceded when she was done reprimanding him. "Sorry."

Sorry? A rare moment that such a word ever got picked up from his vocabulary. If it had disappeared from the lexicon altogether, Zell might not have even noticed. But here he was, actually feeling bad and a little embarassed about his conduct. Underrated milestone.

When he got ready to step off the edge of the roof, he felt her bristle up for a moment and regarded her sidelong. "What's the matter?" Even though she was looking away, doing her best to hide her face, he could just-about see her rosy-red blushing cheek. He smirked and faced front. Stiff as a plank of wood, he thought endearingly, echoing what he'd told Barracker the other day. But that's part of her charm.

"Let's go."

"That still doesn't count," was the last word as they descended.

After grabbing a handful of shirt from the backs of each archer, Zell proceeded to drag the two broken-legged men over to where Adam was. "You wanna gift-wrap these two aswell, mate?" he asked as he dropped them off at his feet. "I'll go get the other one."

It wasn't until he woke the last one up with a slap that he realised that this was the man who Barracker shield-bashed into oblivion. The dude howled in pain holding what had to be a jaw broken in multiple places. Zell started to chuckle and was about to roughly haul the cultist up to his feet, but paused for thought. His eyes raised to see MacKensie walking off and he remembered her lecture, so he changed his approach.

"Come on, mate... up you get." He placed a hand on the cultist's shoulder and allowed him the time to slowly rise to his feet, ready to react if the man resisted. "Listen: you're probably not gonna understand this, right now, but we're here to save you. Alright? You and your buddies have lost, so just... do yourself a favour, yeah... don't try anything funny. Come tomorrow, you'll be back home with your family and you'll be happy that it's all over. Kay?"

The man seemed more concerned with his jaw than the extra-mile kindness that Zell was showing him - not that Zell was doing it for any kind of gratitude anyway (at least, not from him) - but sure enough the cultist had listened, because he allowed Zell to walk him over to Adam where he could be tied up like his friends.

"Cheers, Adam."

"Aaaggghh!!!"

Zell's attention was drawn to the scream of pain that came from behind the trees. For that reason, he completely missed Hardul the dwarf's sharp getaway plan in action. When he found out it was just James and Barracker conducting interrogations, Zell whistled a low note. "Sucks to be George," was all he said to the Druid. "We should probably hurry. The longer we mill about outside the temple, the more chance that we raise the alarm." He would say the same to the rest of the group. Zell had always been the type to strike while the iron was hot. Sure, it could be mistaken for impulsiveness, but it worked out well more times than not. And for that reason, once all the prisoners were immoblized and the party were all regrouped, Zell was edging towards the temple entrance, trying to hurry everyone up. "Shall we get to it, then?"

Adam sighed and shook his head. He could tell that Lars wasn't fond of him, but he didn't think that this cultist would be so obtuse. Oh well; Second Chance had innocent people to save. The pouting of a brainwashed man could wait.

“Okay,” was all the Druid would say to him, his tone as neutral as Switzerland. He grew more vines and wrapped them around his mouth so he couldn't speak, then lifted him using his new “apparel” to a hidden spot in the oak tree, where he had the vines wrap around a sturdy part of the arbor. No matter how much he tried, Lars would not be moving or escaping today.

And right after he finished this, a certain “party idiot” dropped off two more. Adam said “okay” to this also, though more enthusiastically than before, and proceeded to use his magic to recreate the restraints he originally made before putting each person at a different part of the oak. They could be recovered after the beast was defeated, and if their brainwashing was undone their injuries could be treated. If not-

"Aaaggghh!!!”

The sound of the man almost blocked out Zell, but the red-eyed man knew his intent with the other guy he brought over, and it was smart to restrain this one also. Still, it felt a little morbid, almost like decorating a Christmas tree with bodies. Adam didn't think Zell would understand though, so he just nodded and got to work. Having a little practice at it now, the Druid was able to finish quickly enough to get the cultist secured before Zell delivered his assessment.

“True,” was Adam's opinion of George's predicament and Zell's inclination towards battle. Once everyone was together, the red-eyed would also want to proceed, but not without being prepared. “Did we learn anything from their leader, and what do you think we should do?” 

She couldn't find him, which was strange.

It was the dwarf that had caused MacKensie to believe George's story in the first place. Hardul looked terrified and was visibly shaking when he'd come out from behind that rock. Was he really that good of an actor, or was she just too trusting?

She continued to search the area east of the temple, each footfall light and silent, her head swivelling to scan left and then right. And then she caught movement in her peripheral and looked to see the dwarf hightailing it as fast as his little legs could carry him. She burst into a sprint, hurdled the rock he'd been hiding behind and gave chase. "Wait!"

He didn't listen. She closed the distance a little, then stopped and fired her grapplehook his way. It attached to his leg and she had to brace herself, her feet skidding forward a little from the man's bodyweight before she managed to halt him. He tripped and fell to the floor, shrieking more in fear than in pain, she reckoned. It was clear to see and hear that he was definitely still scared out of his mind.

She walked instead of running to catch up with him, her blue beam/wire reeling itself in as she approached him, grapplehook still attached to his leg. The reason she wasn't in hurry to get to the dwarf was because she wasn't exactly sure what she was going to do or say when she was in front of him. She was on her own, at the moment, without the other party members who usually did most of the talking, and she felt neither smart nor confident at this time. So while Hardul might be feeling helpless and scared right now, lay there on his belly as she approached, she wasn't really feeling in control of the situation either.

Hardul scrambled to his feet and tried to run again, but MacKensie stopped and brace herself once more, yanking the blue beam/wire as he tried to run so that he tripped over again. Then she continued to close the distance. Finally she was in front him and her grapplehook disappeared back into her gauntlet. The magical device on her left forearm was truly amazing, it just worked so smoothly, as if it was connected to her very nervous-system.

"Hardul?" she started. She could hear in his breathing that he was shaking. It took him a second to look up at her. "My name is MacKensie. MacKensie Trydant. Are you hurt?"

He clearly didn't expect that, his forehead wrinkling in confusion. After a delayed reaction, he shook his head. She knelt to one knee and he adjusted from his prone position to sitting up on the floor. "I'm... I'm not one of them. Please believe me."

"I do," she nodded slowly, assuring herself just as much as she was assuring him.

It didn't take long for MacKensie to get Hardul's story. She gave the dwarf a comforting rub on the back as he got up and then they walked back to the rest of the party. When they arrived, MacKensie explained that Hardul wasn't a cult member and that he didn't have any inside information about the cult or the temple that could help them - only that he was being threatened and coerced into running errands for the secret agent inside Cherrad, his home village, which mostly consisted of passing messages from one cult member to another.

"The secret agent in Cherrad is a man called Feanor Moss," MacKensie told everyone. "Did any of you meet him?" She also vouched for Hardul, which was difficult seeing as she didn't want to look naive to her friends, but she said it confidently with her chin slightly raised and shoulders slightly squared. Difficult as it would be to be seen as naive, it would be far more difficult to be seen as weak-willed. She was her father's daughter, after all. "I believe him. His honest face and palpable fear is the reason why I was thrown off by George in the first place. I'm not sure what we should do with him, though. Feanor is down there in the village and is bound to press the poor man the moment Hardul gets back to the village. That could compromise our mission. But I wouldn't suggest taking him in the temple with us either."

Hopefully James would calculate the best decision or Fenna would have some wisdom to share, or perhaps one of the others would have a good idea, as they were all fully capable of coming up with one. Either way, she would leave the decision to another, and be ready to enter the temple as soon as everyone else was.

Barracker thought that ‘Bad Cop, Worse Cop’ was a more fitting name for what was in store for George. He felt a bit dirty for suggesting this whole thing but felt in dire situations to gain critical information at its quickest pace, he would have to perform some horrible stuff. There was not enough time for long and drawn out questioning tactics and further cross examinations over witnesses, he felt. Now the temple entrance was open, someone could easily come out and see them and sound the alarm.

James’ tactics of psychological pressure were clever and effective, it was almost as if his leader had done this before, such was his knowledge and execution. All Barracker had to do was apply enough pain to push George over the edge. He didn’t want to cause permanent disfigurement or serious injury, so he had to be careful about what he was going to do to their prisoner. When it came round to the vampire's time to act, he first grabbed George's hair and forcibly turned his face to look at Barrackers fangs, snarling at George. Then he retrieved the knife that his leader gave him earlier. Barracker asked in a quiet, scary tone, “Which hand do you want me to mutilate?” There was no answer, only fearful silence, so Barracker took one of George’s fingers in his grip and pushed the tip of the knife slowly under the fingernail, causing immense pain and a trickle of blood. Thankfully it was all that was needed to break the man’s spirit. After that, James and ‘Kass’ got all the information they could before bringing him back to Adam to be tied up and hung with the rest on the tree.

“Good stuff James.” The Cleric had shown why he had been appointed to the role of leadership.

When MacKensie returned to the group with the dwarf and explained the situation with him, Barracker sensed no deception from the dwarf but more than this he trusted his ally’s judgement. He’d spent enough time with MacKensie to get a decent judgement of the woman. When he first met her and shared drinks, when she came after him outside at the end of the night, something he’d always appreciated. Seeing her interact with the old woman in Cherrad and now the dwarf. She came across as one so virtuous and kind hearted. She was always polite and spoke formally like himself. Just like Fenna, in some ways she reminded him of Evelyne.

By Hades, he thought as he palmed his head. This was the woman that Zell had spoken of, back in ‘Golden Tree Park’ when they first met, before the two had even realised the two were in the same party. Hmm. His eyes flicked from her to Zell, and back again. Like Fire and Ice. Or Earth and Air, he smirked to himself amusingly.

In terms of what to do with Hardul, he would leave it up to another party member to suggest what to do with him first. There were a few ways to go with this and sadly they all came with some risk, unless they would tie him up like the others.

When Barracker offered his arm, Sil perched there, looking between Fenna and Barracker. After receiving thanks from both him and Fenna, she flew up again and flew to the roof where earlier the archers had been.

Fenna smiled at Barrackers joke and nodded at his praise. "Thank you," she said. Fighting with a spear had felt natural, as if she had wielded a spear for years. She turned to look at the person she had killed with it, now that the heat of the battle was over she felt regret for killing him, but at the same time she knew it had been a situation of "kill or be killed", so unfortunately she had killed.

As the survivors were gathered and imprisoned - Adam had created an impressive natural holding cell - she did what was needed to help. She ignored the sounds of the interrogation as well as she could.

When MacKensie returned with Hardul she listened to the explanation, but kept her eyes on the dwarf. His posture and the expression in his eyes seemed to match what MacKensie said. "I haven't heard the name Feanor Moss before," she said when her fellow ranger asked them and continued to listen to what she had to say about the dwarf.

"While I wouldn't mind letting him go. it will be dangerous," she said. "For our mission, but also because I fear what this Feanor person might do to him. It will be dangerous inside the temple as well." Fenna put a hand on her hip as she examined Hardul and thought about the options. Letting him go back to the village was dangerous, taking him along could get him killed. "Maybe Adam can make something that will hold him, but also hide him from people that might want to kill him, and we'll take him with us to Feanor Moss when we are done in temple?" she suggested.

If others had better ideas she'd be open for them, this was the first thing that came to her mind.