The Korin Plains stretched out in the predawn light, a vast expense of green, dew-laden grass that lay nestled between the towering Bloodriver Forest and the fortress city of Sylvane. The first lights of the day breached the eastern horizon, the city’s watchtowers and walls glistened in the soft, golden rays of the sun, while the forest, standing watchful and solemn in the west, was shrouded in mist, obscuring whatever awaited behind the rows of trees and dense vegetation.

Amidst the tranquil landscape, a single carriage trundled along an old dirt path that led from the north into the plains and connected to the city of Sylvane via a crossroad a bit further ahead of the vehicle.

It was a merchant’s carriage, its cargo protected by a simple canopy top of white cloth. Its wheels creaked quietly as it was drawn by two large horses. On the seat of the driver, holding reins was a middle-aged, short, and plump man. Mixed in his brown hair were faint streaks of grey and a simple mustache hung under his nose.

He yawned as the horses strode forward peacefully, expecting to reach the city by noon. Finally, he would feel the comfort of a bath and bed. Returning to society after a long journey always was something he looked forward to, but his daydreaming was interrupted when both of his horses came to a halt.

The man tugged at the reins, applying gentle pressure, and clicking his tongue. “Come on, you two. The merchants in Sylvane are waiting, we have coins to make! I will even buy you two dozen apples. Each! So, please… move,” he urged. The horses snorted, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. They ignored the man’s plea.

The man leaned forward, “Please, you two, we are almost at our goal. Don’t do this to us.” But both horses seemed to be unmoved by his words.

The man’s frustration grew as the warm meal and bath he wished for grew more distant. And so he let go of the reins and dismounted the carriage, walking up to the two horses.

He caressed their snouts. “What’s going on with the both of you?” He sighed helplessly, not understanding what was wrong with the two mares. The two seemed adamant about not moving any further.

After a while, he heard a few whispers coming from the back of his carriage. A young man poked his head out through the curtain, his blonde hair was short and revealed his short, yet pointed ears. “Old man, what’s going on? Why did we stop moving?”

The man looked at the half-elf and raised his voice, “Luna and Sola seem to have decided that they finally had enough to carry my weight around,” he spoke with self-deprecation.

Not waiting a second longer, the blonde man exited the carriage. He wore a long robe of green and brown. There was a golden tree with an abundance of leaves embroidered onto his chest, and dark brown fur adorned his shoulders and neck. In his hands, he carried a long wooden staff with a vine wrapped around it and a green stone embedded into its tip.

He walked up to the horses and looked at them. “Come on, you two. Don’t make it harder on your owner,” he whispered to them as he patted them gently.

In response to his words, the left horse neighed.

“Is that so?” The half-elf nodded. “I will handle it, I promise.”

The middle-aged man watched the whole thing, wondering if the man truly understood the animals, or if he was just getting the gist of it and interpreting the rest.

“And?” The man asked the half-elf.

“Well, it seems we will be put to work,” the young man answered in passing, making his way back to the carriage, where he hit the wooden panels three times.

“Guys, we got a situation! Get your stuff,” he said calmly but with a raised voice.

The merchant did not learn the details, but if the druid claimed it to be a situation for them, then it meant it was not just a simple rebellion by his horses.

Only a few seconds later, another figure exited the carriage. The man was by all means a giant, and although all of his companions claimed otherwise, certainly not human. The man packed enough muscle to put an entire knight battalion to shame.

However, the giant always wore a full set of steel armor. Its shoulder guards were shaped like the heads of wolves, the joints, neck, and back were adorned with black wolf fur and even his gauntlets looked like a beast's claws. On his back, he carried a giant shield and on his belt hung two maces.

The half-elf druid greeted the man known as Gerd, the Iron Wolf, with a simple nod, which the giant returned, not uttering a single word. The Iron Wolf and the druid exchanged silent glances until the druid let out an exasperated click of his tongue and hit the wooden panel of the carriage again. “Oi. Val, get out of there!” He bellowed but received only silence in return. He clicked his tongue, preparing to enter the carriage, but the curtain flew open a woman appeared from the inside.

The woman was just as tall as Leon, with short crimson her that ended right below her chin, orange eyes with yellow irises that burned like a fire. Her sun-kissed skin hinted at countless hours beneath the open sky. Much like Gerd, she wore armor, but hers was tailored for agility. She had no grandiose shoulder guards and no helmet. And different from Gerd’s wolfish armor, hers bore more resemblance to reptiles. The big, fire-breathing ones.

On her back, she carried a blade of such towering stature that it nearly matched her own height. There did not seem much to eat besides its extraordinary length, but upon closer inspection, one would find small, nearly imperceptible gaps that divided the weapon into twenty-five segments.

The merchant knew her well, as most in the kingdom did. For she was Valeria Drachfell, the abandoned heir of house Drachfell, renowned swordswoman, and Hero of Fire.

Back in Sylvendale, he was surprised to find her at the side of the Iron Wolf and the Wildspeaker. Although he knew that they were only traveling together because of the last member who was still inside the carriage.

“Leon, you are being awfully loud today,” she said as she rubbed her eyes, a big yawn following her words. “If you wanna yell at someone shout at Gerd or go find a fly to talk to.”

He glared at her. “You, I have told you a hundred times that flies cannot…forget it,” he sighed, ”just fetch Eirwen; we got to deal with some pests:”

Valeria arched an eyebrow. “What? Anything this close to Sylvane should barely be worth any trouble. Can’t you take care of it? You even have him if you get beaten up,” she remarked, nodding towards Gerd.

“What, you scared of some monster?” He asked haughtily, provoking a furious glare from the red-haired woman.

“Fucking druid. I swear, I will—“ Valeria growled, but her words were cut short when a hand with delicate, nimble fingers wrapped around her arm. The hand belonged to a blonde woman whose head peeked out from behind the curtain. She slowly left the carriage, draping a dark green cloak over her shoulders as she did. She had a bow and quiver flung over her shoulder, she wore pants, a white shirt, and light leather armor.

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Her blonde hair was bound in a ponytail, revealing her long, pointed ears that were shivering due to the cold morning air.

“Eirwen,” Valeria turned around, her attitude making a shocking turn, her growl quickly turning into a gentle and warm smile. The blazing inferno had been reduced to a gentle warm flame. “Why are you out here? What if you get a cold? Wait, let me warm you up.” Valeria’s hand started glowing, warm air emitting from her palm as she placed it on Eirwen’s cheek.

“Val, I might hate the cold, but if you think this is enough to bring me down then I feel quite attacked,” she chuckled, plucking the taller woman’s hand off her face.

Valeria looked down at the elf. “But you are,” she said bluntly.

“V-Valeria!” She gasped and turned towards the half-elf druid.

“She is not wrong, sister,” he said with a shrug.

“W-What?” Eirwen staggered backward, pouting. “Even my brother is against me?”

“Ei, the last time you got a cold, it was because you drank a beer with some ice cubes,” the half-elf brother told her, going for a pat, but being stopped by Valeria who intercepted and used the opportunity for a pat of her own.

The merchant was watching this exchange, not knowing how to deal with it. Just now, they were talking about some problem, a fight or something, and yet they were just bickering with each other!

Well, powerhouses like them probably could be this carefree about it, but for him, this could be a potential to his life, so he was anything but calm. However, he also was not suicidal, so he did not stop their interaction.

He had learned that interfering with them was not a good idea. The last time he talked with a colleague, they told him the Hero of Fire set ablaze an entire warehouse, just because one of his employees was rude to the elf woman. He shuddered at the thought of having a Drachfell chasing after him.

When he turned back into the conversation, it seemed like they had at least gotten somewhere.

“What do you think it is,” the elf woman asked her brother.

“Dunno,” he shrugged, “probably a spirit or elemental. The horses told me it was close, so it’s either somewhere in the skies or beneath the ground. Probably the latter,” he said, ending his sentence with a hard thrust of his staff into the ground. An insignificant action, if one were to look at the lithe build of the druid, but against the merchant’s expectations, the ground shook, causing the horses to panic. He quickly went to calm them.

“W-What are you doing, Sir Leon?!” He asked.

The moment he spoke, the ground rumbled yet again, this time slightly less powerful. The merchant wrapped his arms around his horses’ necks, trying to assure them of their safety, even if he could not do so to himself.

Ready to plead for an explanation, he turned to the group, but they looked largely unbothered. The Iron Wolf remained completely still as if the tremors shaking the earth were not affecting him at all. The druid on the other hand swayed back and forth, but roots had wrapped around his legs at some point, firmly rooting him in place. Valeria Drachfell had drawn her sword, stabbed it into the ground, and used it to hold her balance with one hand, all while holding the elf woman with her other.

None of them looked even the slightest bit surprised, instead, there was a cold calm in their eyes, as they all looked in the same direction. Following their gaze, he found nothing but a normal patch of grass and dirt.

That was until it suddenly cracked open and two giant hands emerged from it, tearing the ground even further. After the hole was big enough to devour his entire carriage, something started climbing out of the hole. It was humanoid, made of stone and earth.

[Earth Elemental | Lvl. ???]

The merchant felt a cold shower run down his back as he held onto his horses for dear life, now they being the source of his comfort, even if just a little. But despite the fear he felt for this creature, he was relieved to have capable people at his side who would save him.

“Well,” the druid taunted with a mischievous tone as he gazed from the Elemental over to his sister’s protector. “Val, care to… revise… your thoughts on me handling this alone?”

“Shut it, druid,” Valeria replied, eyeing the creature.

The creature was not even fully out of the ground, yet it already loomed at double the Iron Wolf’s towering stature, who, in turn, stood twice as large as your average human. The elemental’s eyes shone with an orange-brown light as they gazed down upon the four combatants before it.

As the tremors subsided, the elemental swept one of its massive arms at the ground, tearing and cracking it. From the split, spikes of stone shot toward the group.

The merchant was overcome by terror, looking right at the attack that would take his life, yet the finishing blow never came. A tall back blocked the path between him and the attack. Gerd, Iron Wolf had intercepted the spikes and saved his life. They crashed into his shield, while it was wrapped in a blue light, and shattered against it without even grazing the knight who held it.

While Gerd was holding steadfast against the onrush of attacks, a streak of crimson flashed past the Iron Wolf, fiery hair billowing in the breeze as it incinerated the morning chill with a blazing heat. The merchant had been sweating because of the fear already, but now it felt as if he was standing in the middle of a volcano.

Valeria Drachfell readied her sword, which elongated as she ran, splitting and extending into a whip. A crimson flame erupted from it as she swung it at the elemental, slicing through the air as she went for the creature’s thighs.

At the same time, the Wildspeaker raised his staff, its tip shining brightly and summoning multiple roots, which tore into the elemental body, tying its arms to the ground and forcing it to stay in place.

Finally, Eirwen leaped onto Gerd’s shoulders after the assault ended, her bow and three arrows at the ready. Uttering incantations in ancient Elvish, her arrows brightened with an emerald glow, before being released onto the Elemental. They hurtled toward it, detonating upon impact and obliterating its head in an instant.

Valeria pulled on her whip, cleaving through its things, while Leon pulled it forward, forcing its torso out of the whole, its arms ripping off in the process.

The Iron Wolf slightly shifted his weight, causing Eirwen to jump off him. Suddenly he fell onto his hands and like a wolf, went for his prey.

Two giants collided, but only one would come out of this unscathed. The earth elemental’s torso burst into pieces, revealing a small, glowing stone that had been hidden in its chest. Eirwen pulled another arrow from her quiver, swiftly nocked it, and drew the string. A serpentine trail of green light coursed down her arm, imbuing the arrowhead.

“Pierce,” the elf whispered and loosened the arrow.

It flew just inches past Gerd’s head, hitting its target and shattering the stone into pieces, which released a brown mist upon its destruction, which slowly faded away.

And with that, the fight was done, leaving only crumbled dirt and stone and a destroyed road.

“We won!” Eirwen raised her arms in triumph, a brilliant smile on her lips.

“Don’t you think the last one was overkill, Ei? You destroyed the core,” Leon complained.

Eirwen’s arms fell, dejected by the scolding of her brother, so Valeria quickly went to comfort her.

“Don’t worry, we didn’t need it anyway,” she said her expression changing between a glare directed at the druid and a soft gaze toward Eirwen.

“It is worth a lot of money,” Leon corrected.

“Money that we do not need,” Valeria remarked, giving the blond elf’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

Leon scowled at her, “Money you do not need, Lady Drachfell, but we do.”

Valeria returned the glare, but Eirwen interjected. “You two, stop fighting.” She directed her gaze over to her brother. “I am sorry about the core, but can’t we just take a request once we are in…. Where are we going again?”

“Sylvane,” Valeria answered, her gaze turning softer as she hugged the elf from behind and rested her chin on the top of Eirwen’s head.

“Right, Sylvane. Can we not just take a request there? There should be some well-paying ones.”

Leon clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything.

This did not go unnoticed by Eirwen. “Brother?”

Leon looked at her, sighed, and then looked at the city in the distance with a deep frown on his face.

“Sylvane’s city lord is Phelipe Kepler. An annoying, greedy, arrogant, incompetent, and foolish parody of a noble,” Valeria explained with indifference as if she were repeating a textbook.

“That’s not all,” Leon started, his voice trembling with hatred and disdain, “the Kepler bloodline led the invasion of the Arwen Kingdom. They were responsible for the death of thousands of elves. Not soldiers, but innocents.”

“Oh,” Eirwen responded with understanding and concern, finally seeming to realize the origin of her brother’s bitterness.

“Anyway, I would like to leave Sylvane as soon as possible, so let’s just take an escort request and get out of this place,” he said.

“Can we at least take one that will lead us into the Bloodriver before we leave?” Valeria asked, releasing Eirwen from the hug and walking over to Gerd. “The two of us wanted to see it since we never saw it before,” she said and Gerd nodded along.

Leon looked at the two, hesitated for a bit, looking at his comrades who stared at him with pleading eyes. Sighing and massaging the bridge of his nose, he finally gave in.

“Fine, we will take a single request inside the Bloodriver. Better than staying in that damn city.”

And with that, the four of them settled into the back of the carriage. The merchant resumed his position in the driver's seat, and the horses, now calm and willing to travel once more, moved forward, pulling the carriage around the hole and toward the City of Sylvane.