Paul sighed, turning to see Kriss. She had striking red hair, which fell down to her waist, and was tall and lean. She wore a long red dress, which matched her hair, crimson lipstick, black shadow against her eyes, and a ring of diamonds tattooed along her neck. At her finger tips she possessed the power of the fifth gate, though Paul was sure she was able to cast more powerful spells. Kriss was also the Guild master of the Red Oak branch, and was perpetually twenty years old, even though she had been a Guild Master for almost two decades.

“I’m not in the mood to do much else,” he said, sipping on his ale. “Think. Slay a wolf or two. Drink. Wait until another dead Iyrman shows up.”

“Yes, yes.” Kriss rolled her eyes. “I understand you’re busy drowning under a sea of alcohol, but you do bring the mood down in my guild.” She strut up and sat down beside him, resting her chin on the back of one hand.

“I’m sure everyone can ignore me just fine.”

“That’s not the points,” the Guild Master said, flicking his nose. “Why don’t you come along with me on a quest?” She smiled. “I would love a big, strong, handsome man like you protecting me.” Her smile was innocent and sweet, meaning she had trouble on her mind.

“How much does it pay?” Paul asked, sipping on his ale some more. He needed much more alcohol to deal with her.

“Fifty gold upfront. Five gold a day. An additional fifty gold on completion.”

Paul whistled at the offer, raising his brows. Then he narrowed his eyes. “What’s the catch?”

“A catch?” Kriss leaned in and then narrowed her eyes. “Why do you make me sound like I’m so sleazy?”

Paul raised his eyebrow.

“No catch. You just need to protect me, that’s it. There’s an important meeting that I need to attend up in the North. I want to keep my strength and health, and moving in numbers is always smart.”

“Alright. I’m interested. How many days should I expect to be out?”

“We’ll travel tomorrow morning, and we’ll be gone for a couple of months.”

“Now that’s a payday,” Paul said, drinking the rest of his ale. “I’ll turn in then. You can keep the gold until we’re back. I don’t really need it right now.”

“See you tomorrow,” Kriss said, waving at him.

Paul went to take a long, hot bath, since he wouldn’t be able to have one for a while, especially once they were up north. His sleep was as disturbed as he expected, but the alcohol helped.

In the morning he awoke to horses, bred from Minister stock, and covered in light barding. Kriss was rather serious about this little escapade of hers, and Paul couldn’t help but wonder what she needed to do up north.

They first headed out to the east, towards Hillborough. It was the next town over, slightly smaller than Red Oak. Hillborough was also an outpost for the military.

About two hundred soldiers remained stations in Hillborough, half of which were cavalry, and the other half were footmen. They would sometimes be employed by the guild to assist in certain quests, though often times dealt with nearby bandit groups which would prop up. They had a large swath of land to protect, but the area nearby never saw any enemies of the state.

The outpost, a small fort, was made atop a hill, and the town lay all around it. There was a fairly narrow pathway heading up to the fort, about two riders wide, and went up with at an incline.

As they approached, one of the guards was about to stop them when he recognised the pair of travellers. Kriss was worn a heavy fur cloak around herself, with a hood to cover her face. She wasn’t immediately recognisable, but once others saw her red hair and her tattoos, it was fairly obvious who she was.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“My lady, Kriss,” the guard said, tipping his helmet.

“Hello Harold, it’s a pleasure to see you. We’re just making our way through, would you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Lady Kriss coming through!” Harold exclaimed, with the shouting echoing through the streets. He stepped aside as Kriss and Paul rode through, the townsfolk having moved aside once they had heard the name ringing through the street.

They made it to Buryhall by late afternoon, riding almost fifty miles in the day. Minister horses had been bred to do so, even with their thin, metal bardin.

Buryhall welcomed the pair with open arms. Lady Kriss was quite famous around the area, and Paul had spent some time at the town throughout his life. They rested at the inn, and then continued for another week, arcing northward.

“Kidnapped?” Paul asked. “When?”

“Can’t have happened three hours before you arrived,” the Mayor said, rubbing his sweaty, bald head. “Oh please, would you assist me in this matter? She’s just a little girl, no more than eight years old. She’s my only daughter…”

“Point me to where you saw her last,” Kriss said, sitting tall as ever on her horse. “We’ll accept this emergency request. The guild will send you a receipt in a few months.”

Gary, the Mayor, nodded and then shouted out. “Smith! Smith, come here!”

A man of barely eighteen appeared. He was tall, with light hair and light eyes, wearing a chain shirt. At his side was an warhammer, and a shield on his back.

“I know where they went,” he said. “Let me guide you.”

“Do you know how to ride a horse?” Kriss asked.

“Aye, I do. My fa-“

“Bring this man a horse so we can be off! Every second wasted is a second your little Annebelle will be lost forever!”

“A horse!” Gary shouted. “The best we have! Now!”

The young Smith was horsed and the trio set off, following the road out. He gave out simple directions to where he had last seen the bandits.

“Paul,” Kriss called, “you’re decent at tracking, aren’t you?”

“Fine enough,” he said, taking the lead soon after. They galloped through, following a path in the forest before it became too difficult.

“Return with our horses,” Kriss said, dropping off her horse.

“Uh, y-yes?” Smith said, looking up at her.

“Horses are expensive, and you aren’t needed here any longer. Return with the horses, stable them, and we will return with the girl.”

Smith nodded and led the horses away, returning to the town.

Paul led Kriss, who retrieved a small gem. He could feel the power pulsing from it, the swirling colours within it bringing him discomfort.

Paul raised a hand and the pair moved to a set of trees. Then came the barrage of bolts, striking into the trees beside them, though Paul managed to deflect one as he unsheathed his sword. His heart pounded, for it was a lucky swipe of his sword that caught the bolt.

Yet before he could engage, he heard the snap of fingers, and a mass of flame engulfed the bandits who had come to meet them, screaming and hollering before they dropped, burnt to a crisp.

Paul dared not to look at Kriss, not wanting to see the glee on her face, and then continued along. They had reached a small camp, with a number of bandits. The bandit on duty had been pissing against a tree, noticing the pair too late to warn his companions.

He whistled and all the bandits became silent, only the trickle of a man relieving himself broke the silence.

"Uh, boss," called a bandit from afar, and then a woman stepped out from behind a rock. She was tall, with pale skin, and dark hair. She had a scar along the contour of her cheek.

"You're the boss?" Kriss asked.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" the woman replied, her voice raspy.

"We're here for all your valuables and those you've kidnapped," Kriss said, checking her nails. "Please, be quick about it."

The woman raised her brow, glanced at Paul, his neckline, and then back to Kriss. "What's a couple of steelies like you doing around here?"

"Oh, I'm not a steel ranked adventurer,” Kriss said. “I retired long ago. Now I'm just a Guild Master."

"Guild Master?" the bandit said, her eyes darting between the pair. "Red Oak?"

Kriss smiled and then snapped her fingers. The bandits were engulfed in flames, though she had aimed for all those at one side, reducing the number of bandits by a third.

"I don't like waiting," the mage said, a smile across her lips. "Get to it."

The woman motioned a hand and a few bandits brought over a set of chests, as well as a young girl, wearing a dress of black, some fine black shoes, holding a book to her chest.

"Please check around to see if they have anything else." Kriss glanced at Paul.

Paul hadn't the gall to deny her request, and so stepped forward into danger as he scanned the area. Kriss held her fingers up, ready to snap in case the bandits decided to get any funny ideas.

Paul scoured the area and shook his head. "Nothing that I can see,” he said as he began to return.

"Alright, now that you're done here, we can just go about our own busi-" A snap of a finger stopped the bandit woman as a beam of black light shot forward and struck her chest.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak,” Kriss said.

The bandit woman looked down and then up towards the mage before the life faded from her eyes. She burst into a cloud of black ash, layering the area with her remains.

“Shit,” Paul grumbled.