“Max… are you alright, lad?”

Max blinked a few times. Staring down at him with a concern-stricken, bearded face was Bron.

Max sat up, allowing clarity to return.

“I’m fine, Bron.”

“Your eyes,” Bron said in a hushed volume. “They were wide open and all… white. I was afraid you’d been possessed by some demon or somethin’.”

Interesting, Max thought. He had assumed he had been lying there looking like he was sleeping. Evidently not.

Since he had already told Bron about him gaining orbs, and he trusted the bloke, he decided to go ahead and tell him exactly what he had been up to.

“I went to some kind of out-of-body place,” Max said. “A place where I can use my orbs to become more powerful.”

“Kefbeck and Kavos,” Bron uttered, looking around to make sure no-one else had entered the bedroom. “Not that I didn’t believe you before, but… this… this is incredible.”

“Why did you come in here?” Max asked, just realising that his door had been locked, at least to anyone other than the innkeeper, who evidently had spare keys for every room.

“I was worried about you, that’s all, son. I was calling you, and you weren’t answerin’, but I knew you were in here ‘cause I saw you go up the stairs. After bangin’ on the door a few times, I knew it shoulda woken you up if you’d been asleep, but there still weren’t any answer, so I started getting a bit worried, thinkin’ something were wrong.”

“I appreciate the concern,” said Max. He felt a little annoyed that his privacy had been violated, but he knew Bron’s intentions were innocent. “What did you want me for?”

“Oh, it ain’t me,” Bron said. “It’s Mrs Barnsmoor downstairs. Said she knew you was stayin’ here and needed to talk to you immediately.”

“Mrs Barnsmoor?” said Max. “Who is she?”

“Lives on Copper Kettle Street,” said Bron. “Generally nice lady, as long as you don’t say a bad word about her cat.”

“Okay, thanks Bron,” said Max, deciding to leave it at that and find out what this woman wanted from him himself. “Tell her I’ll be down in a moment.”

Bron left him to it, and shut the bedroom door, allowing Max to change back into his casuals for the evening. Before heading down, max quickly glanced out of the window. The massive sun was now sinking behind the distant mountains, leaving the valley bathed in pink and orange. It was beautiful, and it meant that the tavern’s evening festivities would be starting soon.

When Max reached the bottom of the stairs, he didn’t have to worry about figuring out who Mrs Barnsmoor was, as a middle-aged woman was already waiting for him at the bottom of it.

“Are you him?” she said. “The one who went out all alone into the grasslands and killed all those awful grassgrots?”

Farnhal had clearly been talking, and word was getting around.

“That’s right,” said Max.

“Can you get rid of the gloomwings n’all?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“What are they?” Max asked.

“Horrible bat-like things, but the size of gargoyles, and just as nasty. They been circling my garden every night for weeks now, trying to locate my precious Mittykins. I’ve had to keep him locked up to protect him, but he’s desperate to stretch his little legs, the poor thing. I know it’s against the order of the Oakwatch to attack the gloomwings and all that, but I thought… well… if you were the kind of person to go after them grassgrots, maybe you’d be willing to break the rules and go after these too.”

“Wait-” said Max. “The Oakwatch have said nobody is allowed to attack the gloomwings?”

“Yeah, ‘cause of the revenge attacks that always come afterwards. Anyone fires an arrow and the entire lot of ‘em come swooping down. They killed old Robern Kostings after he threw that empty bottle of borkunbrew at one, didn’t they? And the Oakwatch reckon they’re invincible, since their arrows don’t deal any damage to ‘em. I’m hoping you might be able to disprove ‘em and give me some hope.”

The conversation was beginning to pique Max’s interest. Bat-like creatures that were seemingly invincible. He knew that couldn’t be true. The Oakwatch had to be using that as an excuse not to bother with them, taking the easy route.

“Why don’t we get a drink and discuss this further?” Max offered.

Mrs Barnsmoor nodded enthusiastically. “It’s on me,” she said. “And if you can get rid of those vicious things so my Mittykins can play outside again, I’ll reward you with a lot more than just a free drink.”

Max asked the woman for a tankard of the Bronze Brew he had been given by Bron the previous evening, as it had tasted delicious, and he found a small, vacant table close to the tavern’s roaring fireplace.

“Do you think there’s any hope, Mr Knightly?” Mrs Barnsmoor said as she handed Max his tankard, sat herself opposite him, and sipped her own tankard of frothy ale.

“It’s very unlikely the gloomwings are invincible, Mrs Barnsmoor,” Max told her truthfully. “Though I don’t know why the Oakwatch’s arrows don’t deal damage to them. Has anyone beside the Oakwatch - and the old man you mentioned - tried to fight them?”

“Only Carpin Carrop and Jovlinia Wrell. Carrop ended up locking himself away out of fear after being mauled by the things, and Jovlinia… well, they went after her kids in revenge, didn’t they? Took her youngest. Most likely killed him and ate his meat. She ain’t never been the same since.”

Wow, Max thought. These creatures had stolen and killed someone’s child, and the Oakwatch were happy to just let them have their pick. He was very interested in sorting the situation out, but if what the woman was saying about arrows dealing no damage to them, he was going to have to figure out how to get past that obstacle first. He wondered if a yet-to-be unlocked ability in the Inner Sanctum might grant him some kind of boost in power to his arrows that could break whatever form of invulnerability the gloomwings possessed, though he hadn’t come across anything like it yet.

“I might be able to help,” Max told her. “But I need to assess the situation first.”

“Of course! Of course!” Mrs Barnsmoor gushed. “If there’s anything you can do, anything at all - even scaring them away somehow - I’d be forever grateful.”

After his day battling the grassgrots, Max felt in no fit state to be embarking on another hunt right away, but he was excited to do so the following evening, when he’d have some renewed energy.

“I’m going to enjoy a well-earned evening of entertainment tonight, but don’t you worry, Mrs Barnsmoor, I promise I’ll take the situation more seriously than the Oakwatch. That much I can guarantee.”

Max could tell his words were like music to the woman’s ears, and he enjoyed seeing the glimmer of hope in her eyes. He could get used to this; slaying fearsome pests for the people of Oakhaven and earning coin, loot, and orbs in the process.

“He musta heard you talkin’ about him,” Mrs Barnsmoor said, her expression suddenly changing.

“Who?” asked Max.

Mrs Barnsmoor did a subtle nod, and Max looked in the indicated direction to find that Garrick had entered the tavern and was storming towards him and Mrs Barnsmoor with an almighty purpose, his over-the-top, shiny armour clanking as he moved.

“Can I help you?” Max said as the self-righteous prick stopped in front of his table.

Garrick met Max’s stare for longer than was comfortable, then he gripped him by the back of his shirt and yanked him out of his seat.

Max quickly shoved Garrick away. He hadn’t been expecting the oaf to put his hands on him, so he’d been taken by surprise, but he wasn’t going to allow the twat to do it again.

“People of Oakhaven!” Garrick announced in a bold voice, quieting the rowdy chatter of the tavern and turning all heads in his direction. “I’m sure most of you will know that we have a new visitor in town,” he motioned to Max, and there were a few hushed whispers. “Well,” Garrick continued. “There is something I would like to tell you about this man.”