Pink and orange and red filled the upper limits of the sky as the setting sun dipped out of sight. Nera, the Behemoth Star, Psedhara’s Sun, and lifeblood of the goddess of the sun and moons for which it is named, graced the sky that night with a perfect sunset, one that encapsulated everything he loved about this world. It took over the entire sky, hosted a diverse array of colors, and of course, was strikingly beautiful. Just across the world from Nera setting in the west was Ganymede the Goliath, the Silver Moon. It was the thirteenth eve of the month, meaning that Ganymede was a full disk rising into the month’s most potent twilight, a watchful eye on the plight of Burden’s Bluff. In the sky, forty-five degrees north of Nera was a crescent of crimson, the second-largest moon, Callisto. Small and nearly imperceptible on the opposite side of Nera was Io, the mysterious violet moon. All together, the celestial bodies adorned a sky that looked more like a painting than a real world, and no portion of the world at that moment embodied this more than the endless stretch of pure, real gold that lined the horizon.

So breathtaking it ought not be described. But we can at least try.

As Pax’s eyes returned to their normal state, he stared down Forsad the Frigid, seemingly even more aware than he was before he’d fallen. The giant was certainly injured, having taken heavy damage from the wizard's acid and the sorcerer’s massive shock, but he showed no signs of slowing down. Given that fact, and that Forsad was still squinting at him with one good eye, seemingly waiting for him to do something, Pax figured he couldn’t buy much more time. He had told the giant he wasn’t done yet, after all. Time to prove it.

“Hey, you! You’re new here, right? I’d be more than happy to give you a guided tour!” The giant angrily spoke something in the giant tongue, and for a moment, Pax’s joking demeanor dropped, as he deliberately asked his next question as sincerely as possible. “Sorry, I don’t understand your language. Do you know Common?” As Pax spoke, he deliberately touched a finger to his lips, then an ear, and shrugged.

The giant took two steps back into the square. “Human language weak. No power.”

Pax shrugged again. “Well, I don’t know about no power! Certainly not as loud as yours, though. I think Common is to Giant like we are to you. Not as powerful individually, but when we’re all together… Just as meaningful.” The giant continued to glare, and Pax laughed it off. “Yeah, I know, not the best analogy. You know what I mean though, right?”

Forsad scowled, and scooped up a hunk of gravel and dirt. “Enough talk.” After winding back, the giant let loose a spray of earthy shrapnel.

“Uh oh!” Thanks to the wind up, Pax had more than enough time to ready himself to move. When the wave of dirt came at him, he nimbly dodged out of the way, skipping to the corner of the building he was on, and jumping a dozen or so feet to another nearby roof. “Jeez, buddy, you could have hurt someone with that! You know, my mom used to tell me that if my sister and I were going to throw dirt at each other, to make sure it was nowhere near our eyes.” With that remark, the giant finally began walking back towards him in earnest, and Pax let out a sigh of relief. Now that this is for sure happening… time to call for backup. “Elias, you okay?”

Backed against the wall that Pax looked over, trembling in his steel suit was Elias Eagleheart. He had been truly shaken by the giant’s display, and it was all the young knight could do to tear his eyes away from the two thieves, who were both now unconscious, face down in the gravel. Against all sense though, as the giant stalked closer to the two of them, Elias craned his neck to look up at Pax, who was all reassuring smiles. With his full golden eyes, all tan and white garb, and the threat of twilight on the horizon, Pax reminded Elias of an owl, ever-vigilant. There was something undeniably inspiring about the man that Elias couldn’t place. “Yeah… yeah, I’m fine.”

“Great! I need you to go get Wren and Duncan.” Pax was still smiling.

“What? Will you be okay? You’re probably faster than I am…”

“Yes, I’m sure! I’m trusting you with this, alright?”

Elias watched as Pax’s head snapped back up to look at Forsad, who had nearly reached the group. He was walking slowly, dragging the hunk of ice along the ground again. The towering figure could easily keep Elias from leaving from his current distance, which made him hesitate. “I’ve got you, Elias, don’t worry.” Emboldened, Elias pushed off the wall, and holding tight to Aquila, the glaive he had inherited only a few months ago, began to run back towards the center of Burden’s Bluff. As he expected, the giant lashed out with his club. However, before Elias thought about what to do about it, he realized that the club wasn’t quite going to reach him. “Oh no you don’t!” Pax shouted. Elias witnessed Pax jump straight at the giant, plant both feet against the giant’s chest, and push off with all his might. It didn’t topple the giant, but it kept his club from reaching Elias by several feet, and Pax even managed to bounce back onto the roof afterwards.

As Elias scrambled out of the square, Pax snapped twice at the giant. “Hey, buddy! Eyes on me, alright? I’m Pax, by the way, and I’m still open to being friends.”

Forsad bellowed in rage. “SHUT UP!” The giant swept his club at the monk, who pushed off the roof again, leaping slightly up to Forsad’s head. As Pax flew through the air, he twisted his form, solidly connecting his sandaled foot with the giant’s jaw. After the hit, Pax pushed off the giant’s form once more, landing safely on the ground with his back to the well in the center of the neighborhood. In the ethereal light of golden hour, Pax looked up to the giant, and felt compassion in his heart. The same warm breeze he felt that morning, the first gale to tell of the good spring to come, twisted around him with its comforting heat and familiar scents of honeycakes and lavender. Burden’s Bluff may not have been Pax’s home, but it may as well have been for how he felt about it at that moment. The monk truly felt for the giant; he didn’t know Forsad’s story, and he guessed he never would, but the giant was clearly displaced from his home, and didn’t know what to do about it other than fight. There was a little sorrow behind Forsad’s one good eye that tugged at Pax’s heartstrings. Fuck it. Until backup arrives… I’m gonna do what I can.

As the giant turned to face the young man, Pax risked his anger and spoke up once more. “I’m being serious, friend… We don’t have to fight. May I ask your name?”

With a brief glance to the air elf who’d fallen with him, Forsad scoffed, and simply said “No,” before attempting to pin Pax against the well with his foot. Thinking to himself how stupid the decision was, Pax decided to take a breath in to gather his strength, and absorb the blow from Forsad. With a crunch, Pax felt the crushing weight of the giant on his chest as he was pressed between Forsad’s foot and the well.

He grimaced, and managed to eke out a few words. “Okay, yeah, I get that… Are you positive we can’t talk this out?” Confused and furious at the human’s insistence on peace or conversation, Forsad stamped his foot harder into the well. With unreasonable faith, Pax continued to believe that he would be okay, and be it some force of his own will, or the golden gale that twisted around the neighborhood, the man felt the well begin to crumble beneath the pressure, the force from the giant passing through Pax like a fulcrum. He could feel the force of his will fading, but despite Pax’s faith that things would turn out, he also recognized that part of things turning out was putting in your own effort. The world cared about him, but he had to too.

With speed and grace, as the well gave in to the giant’s foot, Pax used the temporary looseness to slip out from under Forsad. As the giant pounded into the well, Pax stumbled to the side, clutching his chest as pain rattled through him. Try as he might, he didn’t have enough energy to heal himself anymore. There could be no more reckless decisions.

“Hey! Uh… Goldie!” Pax turned to his left, and saw that tucked into a corner of the square, the woman with the wings was calling out to him. At her side was a delicate bow that was snapped in two, now only connected by a limp piece of string. On the surface, the woman looked angry, but beneath it there was fear, and a twinge of sadness. “Just run!”

Pax hopped out of the way as Forsad swung out again with the club. “Sorry, ma’am, no can do! But don’t worry, help is on the way!”

Marseillan watched Pax incredulously. The man was giving her his full attention, despite the giant again taking a try at him; Forsad missed, and continued to roar as Pax maintained a healthy step or two away from him at all times. As fast as the giant’s reflexes were, he could never hope to be as agile as the monk. They continued their song and dance for at least a minute, and all the while Mars looked on as the golden-eyed man stood valiantly in the shadow of a literal giant. And while she may not have consciously recognized it at the time, it later would not escape the ventanel that the shadow the giant cast was produced by that shining strip of gold that graced the horizon. It was as if Forsad was trapped, a scared and angry creature stuck between two sources of undying hope.

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When the giant finally got frustrated, and went to exit the small neighborhood, Pax ran directly into his path. “If you don’t mind, I’d really prefer you stay here! We can talk, or we can just sit silently, but you can’t leave! There are too many people in the rest of town that we would put in danger by fighting somewhere el- woah! Again, be careful with that chunk of ice!”

Inspired by Pax, the air elf attempted to stand up, so that she could move the nice woman who had healed her to safety, but found that the sharp pain in her spine became too much to bear whenever she attempted to move, which caused her to fall back down to the gravel. After being pinned beneath that boot… how’s this dude still bouncing around like it’s nothing?

The truth was, it wasn’t nothing. Out of breath in his body, Pax could feel himself beginning to slow down, and he had no time to catch his breathing. Without the chance to steady himself, he was bound to slip up. I just have to hold him a little longer…

“Hey… Giant… Would you allow me… one more stupid decision?” With only the vaguest acknowledgement from the giant that he had even spoken, Pax took a shaky step forward, eliciting a bludgeoning strike from the mass of ice. More out of exhaustion than skill, Pax stumbled out of the way of the blow, and continued moving in towards Forsad. With open palms, Pax approached the frost giant, and though his head barely came up to the larger being’s thigh, Pax pressed both hands into Forsad’s form, and embraced him.

Forsad stood still for a moment, truly befuddled. The human no longer jumped around him, and yet, him standing so still, so peaceful, was more concerning to the giant. Hesitant, he spoke to himself: “What trick are you playing, boy… no shock like the other…” Slowly and carefully, Forsad the Frigid grabbed the man in his hand, and picked him up. “Who are you, boy?”

“I’m sorry…” Pax managed to say. “You looked like you needed a hug. Ahh… I’m so sorry… that this happened to you.”

Before Forsad could react to the human’s eyes flitting past him, a shaft of pain lodged itself squarely in his shoulder blade. The giant bellowed, and violently threw Pax to the ground, knocking him out for good. The giant swiveled to see what had struck him, and could feel that his shoulder was dislocated. But when he scanned the area, there was no one. Turning back again to face the rest of the town, Forsad froze in place, as where the young, golden-eyed human had stood not ten seconds ago, was another man. He was taller, with mid-length salt and pepper hair, a prominent jaw adorned with a five o’clock shadow, and eyes the color of the midday sky. His garb was all shades of gray, and he wore a black leather vest that was left unbuttoned in the front. The man was in the process of slinging a modified bow on his back.

The ice giant gave the man a cold glare, and attempted to ascertain who the man was, and what his skills were. As he attempted to grip tighter to the cold club, Forsad felt that his control over his arm had lessened somehow; a magical effect separate from the dislocation, as the arrow lodged in him seemed to pulse with lingering energy.

The man, seeing the six young people all weak and fading on the ground, glared right back at Forsad. Assessing the target, the middle-aged man could tell that his disrupting arrow had taken effect, and the giant had lost partial use of his right arm. Additionally, with someone else’s arrow lodged in the right eye, it was clear to the man that Forsad would favor his left side for his next attack. “Huh… Alright.” From around the small of his back, the man unsheathed two short gladii, each of which had a gleaming brass cross section and pommel.

“Come on, giant. It’s almost dark, you interrupted my drink.”

With a roar, Forsad took the old man’s bait and leapt towards his new combatant, forming his hands together into a massive ball of blue flesh that he slammed down at the man. The human stood at just over six feet tall, and from the other side of the area, Mars could see that he didn’t stoop whatsoever as he dodged the giant’s mighty blow with such ease, it looked like he wasn’t even trying. With that step to the left, the man knew he wouldn’t have to worry about the giant’s right arm lashing out, so he took the opportunity to step in towards the giant, and thrust the blade of his right gladius all the way to the hilt into the giant’s stomach. The blade penetrated horizontally, and began to draw blood once the man yanked his wrist up, twisting the blade vertically. The seasoned man ripped upwards with the blade, making a long cut along the giant’s abdomen. As the giant screamed, the man jumped to get a bit of extra height, and stabbed his other gladius into the giant’s pectoral. Using gravity to his advantage, and the twin blades both impaled in Forsad, the man dragged the frost giant down onto his knees.

On the ground, the giant was still several feet taller than the man, but Forsad still knew it was over. He could feel himself bleeding out, and after the significant damage dealt with the spells earlier, he wouldn’t last. The giant spoke his final words in his native tongue, assuming no one would understand. “An honorable kill, slayer… But it wasn’t my fault. It was the nel that opened that portal…”

The slayer nodded. “I know.” As quickly and efficiently as possible, the man pulled both of his blades out of the giant, and simultaneously made two quick, deep cuts at Forsad’s throat, snuffing out the light in his eyes.

With a huff, Wren stuffed his gladii back into their scabbards, and looked around the neighborhood. Just like Elias had reported, half a dozen different young people had all clearly taken turns fighting the giant, to various degrees of success. Elias had told him that the two thieves they’d run here chasing had stayed to keep the giant at bay, up until they had each collapsed from their injuries. Neither of them looked particularly powerful to Wren, but even unconscious, both seemed interesting in a way he couldn’t describe. More interesting on the surface was “the shield wizard”, who wore robes that, at a glance, looked like student’s robes from the University of Higher Arcana in Highhaven, but there were clear variations in the design. Just fifteen feet in front of Wren, he could also see Pax on the ground face up, and his chest was heaving; the fading light of a brief golden hour reflected on the man in a way that seemed… odd.

And then, next to his dear Kishori — who herself was unconscious and bloody, but clearly alive — was the “angel”. With the pointed ears and fair, angular features, Wren realized quickly that she was an air elf, a ventanel. He had always heard that they were a rumor, or that they had died out, but he also knew that very few rumors like that weren’t based on some truth. Wren couldn’t help but smile a little; the scent of adventure and intrigue was on the air that night.

“Hey… thanks…” the girl said, grimacing as another bolt of pain shot through her. She didn’t look externally injured to Wren, which made the problem worse. “Can you help them?”

“Them? Not you, kid?”

“I’m fifty years old, fucker,” Marseillan said with a laugh, that turned into a cough, that turned into a fit of coughs. “Ow.”

“Well, I’m still older than you.” Wren smiled, and held a hand out to the elf, which she took. He slung the arm around his shoulder, and felt one of the girl’s wings wrap around loosely around his back. “You can call me Wren, by the way. You got a name?”

“Mars.”

“Mars, then. I like that. Well, let’s get you to a cleric friend of mine, I can tell you’re in a bad way.”

Marseillan was about to argue, but the man’s gravelly, but well-meaning voice put her at a relative ease. “Okay… Can they get me home?”

“Eventually? Maybe. But for now, you need rest… And so do these fine people.” As Wren began to walk with Mars, the quiet that had settled on the neighborhood began to attract civilians to the scene. Only a couple of the houses were severely damaged, and people began to mumble about materials they would need to gather to fix them, while also thanking all the people who were on the ground.

From around one corner, Duncan charged into the area with Elias shortly behind. “Wren! By Nera, it’s dead already! You didn’t wait for me?!” The dwarf looked around, and batted a hand in the air. “Bah, whatever. Which of these people helped, and who are we helping?”

Wren offered a wry grin. “All of them, Duncan. Six severely injured, so why don’t you get to work?” Duncan nodded, and with the help of the young knight and some very thankful locals, the rest of the ‘young saviors of Burden’s Bluff’ were brought to the home of a healer who could house them while Duncan did his clerical work.

As Marseillan was led to the healer’s place, she took in the sights of Burden’s Bluff. The sunlight had all but faded by then, and she could see people lighting wax candles on window sills to make up for the relatively dim light that Ganymede shone on the night. From behind dozens of dusty glass panes, Mars saw the faces of adults and children alike — all humans and féar — staring out at her, in awe. The elf instinctively tucked her wings a bit closer to her back, which was painful, but worth it. No one was scared but… she was different. An outsider. As much as she hated what had happened to her, Mars also could not deny that she was excited to see what this new world was like… but those prying eyes basically screamed at her to do it away from others’ gaze.

Half an hour later, Wren exited the healer’s abode and sighed. The triad of moons shone down on the Bluff, and left him feeling introspective, nostalgic, and happy. He could feel the weave of destiny on the air. Against all odds… Wren knew without a doubt that those seven vagabond souls were going to be the start of something good for the world. And he would make damn sure that they were ready for what the world would have in store for them.