A blanket of snow covered the mountain village. The picket and small cottages were nearly invisible in the field of white. The surrounding forest just added to it.

This place would work if we needed to hide. Roger smiled and looked at the small number of buildings. With only six streets, the town was tiny. Of course, it’s on the brink of being wiped out by anything wild.

Looking back to the main street, Roger studied the few people in the crisp early morning air. There they are. His eyes locked onto the large man, who tossed some guard down the snow-covered street. The guard slid across the snowy street and slammed into a cottage, sending snow cascading over him.

The bald man glowered. “I will kill you if you dare to try to leave. You are our servants now.”

Roger studied the bald man.

[Fredrick - Level 503: Ranger 501, Swordsman 501, Bulwark 304]

He sighed. Every single time. They either come back and pretend to be nobodies, or they try to take over the place. He chuckled to himself. As if you didn’t do the same. His thoughts drifted momentarily, and he grimaced.

Forcing the memories away, he turned back to the contracted targets. Roger’s eyes flickered to the woman nearby.

[Elise - Level 505: Fire Mage 504, Earth Mage 504, Witch 303]

He studied her classes and sighed. I hate fighting mages. He looked at the village. She’ll burn the entire village down if she gets a fireball off.

A scream ripped him from his musings. He looked over to see Fredrick punt a villager down the lane. I better take care of this before she burns the town down.

Roger walked into the snow-covered pine trees, searching for footprints or other game signs.

Minutes ticked by. A light snow fell around him. He carefully journeyed through the trees, pausing at a rabbit warren.

With a sigh, he pulled a shovel and dug, pushing aside snow and frozen dirt. The forest went quiet around him, and he slowly expanded the tunnel.

Shovel by shovel, he made slow progress downward before spotting the first rabbit. Stowing the shovel, he grabbed a knife and reached inside.

The rabbits huddled together. Roger stabbed one and grabbed another. The remaining clutch ran, fleeing off into the woods. He grabbed the two and quickly field-dressed them before turning and heading back to the road. Pity Riley wasn’t here. I could have made her do that.

He chuckled and walked from the trees, whistling idly and swinging the rabbits. Riley would approve. He embraced that fact, whistling and walking up to the gate.

“Oye! Anyone home?” he said, banging on the gate. “Open up in there!” he shouted.

“We’re closed to visitors,” Elise yelled back.

“I have coneys to sell! What’s the matter with yeh?” Roger banged again.

“Go away.”

“That’s down-right inhospitable of yeh. I’ve a mind to tell the baron,” he yelled. The gate swung open, revealing the woman with fiery red hair.

“Get inside,” Elise said with a hiss, her hand resting on a sword. “There’s a storm coming.”

Roger smiled at her. “Want to buy ‘em?” He held the rabbits up toward her face.

“Taxes are a silver.” Elise held out her hand.

“For two rabbits? You’re daft.” Roger shook his head. “I’ll give yeh two sil.”

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“A silver,” the man said as he strode over. “Or one of them.”

Roger stared at him in shock. “Erm. Who are yeh? You aren’t a guard.”

“The mayor. That’s my wife,” Frederick said, his hand resting on his hilt.

“Half of them,” Elise affirmed.

“Downright criminal,” Roger muttered. He removed one from the string and palmed his knives.

Frederick grinned. “Welcome to the kingdom called Dawn. You’ll be joining the army.”

Roger handed the rabbit to Elise and thrust the blades forward, slamming them into Elise’s chest. She looked down in horror, and Frederick drew his sword in one fluid motion.

Roger ripped the knives free and dove to the side, rolling through the snow and watching the large sword pass within an inch of him.

“Die!” Frederick shouted, swinging again.

Vaulting out of the snow, Roger threw both blades and flickered. The blade passed through his form, sending a wave of pain through him and draining a massive portion of his stamina.

Like a wraith, he flew around the corner of the building and appeared. Pulling up his cowl, he vaulted onto the roof.

“Get back here, you bastard!” Frederick shouted, walking to Elise on her knees. He knelt and touched her. His eyes glowed, and her wounds started to close.

Condemn it! Roger grabbed his bow, nocked an arrow, and drew it back. Aiming, he used Lethal Shot. The bow twanged, and the arrow blew through Elise’s neck, leaving a gaping hole. She gurgled, and blood poured down her body.

“Fight like a man, you shit!” Frederick bellowed. He tried to hold Elise’s head on, his eyes surging with green light.

Blood trickled down Roger’s body. The wound slowly appearing on his body. Condemnation. Roger grimaced and downed a healing potion before looking back. He’s actually doing it?

Elise’s throat, bone and all, slowly reformed, rebuilding layer by layer.

Roger grabbed another arrow and fired, sinking an arrow into the man’s neck.

The man grunted and continued his healing. Elise’s eyes blazed, and Roger triggered Rapid Fire. His arm shot toward his quiver. He drew back the bow and fired within a single heart beat.

The arrow zipped forward and slammed into the man’s neck. He grunted and wobbled.

Elise coughed. A wave of heat surged around her. Roger aimed and fired, grabbing the next arrow. A ball of fire formed, and the arrow slammed into Elise’s eye.

She dropped into the snow, and the ball exploded. Roger ducked behind the chimney and grabbed his next arrow. Ribbons of flame streamed around him. The smell of burning wood, straw, and hair filled the air.

The flames flickered and died. Nocking the arrow, Roger peered out. A smoldering Frederick staggered to his feet, the wound on his neck slowly closing.

“Die,” Frederick gurgled, charging toward the smoldering cottage.

Roger leapt and shot straight down. The arrow slammed into the man’s head and bounced right off.

Grabbing another arrow, Roger fired his next shot, sinking it into the man’s chest.

The man bellowed, blood oozing from his mouth. He turned and ran forward. Roger tossed his bow, landed, and drew his sword. He invoked Duel on Frederick and spun toward him.

Frederick swung; his sword crashed through the cottage and continued forward. Roger stepped back and stepped forward, stabbing Frederick twice.

Blood trickled from his body, and Frederick swung recklessly. Roger burned stamina, ducking and dodging the wild strikes. With each opening, he lashed out, striking ribs, legs, and arms.

Frederick snarled. A grin spread across his face, and the wounds vanished. His eyes glowed momentarily, and Roger vaulted, flickering and dashing behind the building.

Roger triggered Lethal Strike and braced. A bellow rang through the air, and a sense of dread washed through Roger. He swallowed and braced. Condemnation.

Bursting through the cottage like an enraged bull, Frederick slammed into Roger and swung. His blade whirred through the air, clipping Roger’s side.

Roger stepped in and ripped his blade downward. Entrails and organs burst. Blood sprayed, and Roger ran, downing another healing vial to stop the growing pain in his side.

A thud rolled through the air. Spinning, Roger turned and saw Frederick crawling on the ground.

“Monster,” Frederick whispered, blood leaking from his face.

Roger loaded a stone and sent it zipping toward his target. It hit with a loud crack. Loading another stone, he repeated it until the kill notification flashed into view.

Walking forward, he started looting, taking the sword, purses, and anything that looked magical.

“Please, sir. We need that to survive,” a woman called.

“I’m aware.” Roger pried off the man’s boots and walked to Elise, where he did the same, taking her belt and purse. “Where were they staying?”

“The mayor’s home, but we need it, sir.” The woman fretted.

“Calm down. The king sent me.” He frowned. “How many dead?”

“Any who could lead,” the woman said sadly. “Anyone who resisted.”

Roger looked at the cottages and headed to the nicest one. He walked inside and looked at the humble cottage. There is no way they had much, and they would have kept their gear. Walking into the bedroom, he opened a locked chest and chuckled.

Three books of magic, along with the town savings, were sitting in it. Reaching down, he took all of it. Can I trust anyone in the town with it? He turned and studied the woman who looked at the purses. That’s a no.

“The gold won’t save you,” Roger said to the nearby woman. “I’ll inform the baron and let him redistribute.” He jogged out of the home and out of the gate.

His jog turned into a run. He raced along the roads and debated his next stop. I am owed two runs from Hassan, and Riley is safe with Althea around. The only concern is that Althea kidnaps her and runs her to the elves, but that might be safer. He chuckled and sped off toward the distant city. There were some dungeons to run before he returned to the capital.