Rowen swore as he stood and ran to the door. He was sprinting down the stairs in seconds, and after just a moment, I followed him.

Outside, the camp had descended into chaos. People ran in two directions, either towards the buildings and mines or the far end of the settlement, where the carts had parked. Rowen's shouts rose above the din of screaming, pounding boots, animal cries, and slamming doors.

"Find shelter! Guards, to me!"

I followed Rowen's voice and turned to the southwest just in time to see something step out from behind one cart.

The creature looked small at a distance, but compared to the cart, it was clearly at least as large as a man. It stood on four legs with dark, bristled fur covering a wide frame. Hooves dug into the frost-hardened dirt, and two wicked, scything tusks jutted out from a snouted face.

A boar. Likely a dire boar based on the size and tusks. Notes and passages on their behavior, characteristics, and typical abilities echoed in my mind even as guards ran to engage the beast.

Rowen had joined a group of at least a dozen men, and together, they formed a half-circle about forty feet across. The foreman had grabbed a spear along the way, and though I could not make out his grip, his stance was terrible. The guards near him also held spears, though I spotted a few aiming crossbows instead.

I could see the boar turn its head from side to side, even over a hundred feet away. It considered the guards, and I could see when it chose a target. The beast's body tensed, its chest expanding before it let out a piercing howl and charged.

Bolts shot across the gap, and men shouted warnings as they tried to sidestep the charge. Those who could not escape in time planted themselves, aiming their spears up to either deter the beast or skewer it through the chest. It might have worked against a regular animal, but not a dire boar.

Spear tips sunk barely an inch into skin and muscle harder than wood. Stone-strong tusks tore through armor and flesh like a knife parting silk. The boar skewered one man through the chest, bowled over a second, and trampled a third in seconds as it charged through their line. Nearby guards jabbed at its retreating body but failed to score more than minor cuts along its flank.

The dire boar moved out of range before tossing its head to one side. My stomach twisted when the gored man slid off the beast's tusks and fell bonelessly to the ground. The creature barely slowed before turning and charging again.

Four men stepped forward to meet it, raising metal-reinforced shields and propped spears. The boar barely slowed and slammed into them with a thunderous crash. One spear managed to sink several inches into its shoulder, but the rest bent and shattered as two more guards were trampled. The third managed to avoid serious injury, and the fourth collapsed back, blood pouring from slices in his chest and leg.

Rowen shouted orders, and two guards pulled back the injured man as more joined their ranks. They stepped in closer, likely trying to prevent it from charging a third time, and jabbed with their spears. The group left a gap open towards the forest, and for a moment, I suspected it might work. Then, someone shot a crossbow bolt into its chest, and that brief hope vanished.

Their plan was decent, at least for most animals. Spears gave them the reach advantage, and an angry, wounded animal could not think strategically. A group like this could leave minor wounds, distract the beast, and wait until blood loss and exhaustion won the day.

But dire boars were too big and too tough. Even in the dead of winter, a healthy one could outlast its mundane counterpart three times over. More than anything, though, they were mean. These men had gotten the creature angry, and now it would not stop until it was dead or they were.

As I watched all of this unfold, I nearly ran for cover. Part of me wanted to see the battle, though, and something else tickled at the back of my mind.

These guards likely could win given enough time and manpower, but how many would die? How many friends would they lose, and how many more would find themselves crippled?

This was their responsibility, not mine. They had chosen this job and had to accept the consequences. So what if their only alternative was starvation and death? Was that my fault?

Blood sprayed from another man's chest as the boar drove a chunk of his own shield back and into flesh. He fell back, screaming his throat hoarse as another nearby tried to drive the beast back. It stood over the dying man, hate evident in every inch of its form.

Coward.

I was moving before I realized it. Mana poured through my chest as I ran towards the group. Each step that smacked against hard-packed dirt threatened to shatter my fragile control, and I felt bits break off and seep into the air. I ignored the dregs and focused, compressing as much as possible into two coin-sized orbs.

When I reached about sixty feet away, I slid to a stop and threw my left hand forward. Twin green lances sliced out, leaving lines burning in my vision. They slammed into the boar, one tearing a hole through its leg and the second slicing deep into its chest.

The beast stumbled and crashed to the ground as the muscles in its leg gave out. It struggled but regained its footing in barely a second. The monster's shovel-shaped head swayed, and I could see its pitch-black eyes focus as primal aggression warred with unnatural cunning.

Even as it debated, I gathered more mana for a second volley. The guards took the chance to stab into it with their weapons again, and more crossbows twanged as they fired, but the attack was pointless. The boar pushed off, sending up a spray of dirt as it ran towards me in a loping, half-limping charge.

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Green sparks gathered in front of my left hand as I focused. I strained and pulled nearly half of my remaining reserves into three bolts, forcing them as small as possible. As I worked, the boar's charge ate up the gap between us faster than a man at full sprint.

The distance between us shrunk from sixty feet to thirty in barely a second. At that gap, I could hear its hoarse breaths and enraged squeals, see the boar coating its body, and smell the mixture of metal and animal musk. I could feel my heart hammer and sweat gather on my forehead, and I forced myself to push them aside and focus.

I held until the last moment, knowing I had just one chance to kill the beast. When it was just fifteen feet away, I squeezed the bolts one final time before throwing them. The three seemed to almost flare brighter for a moment, but I barely saw it from the corner of my eye as I jumped to the side. Even as I leaped, I pushed as much mana as I could grab from every inch of my body in a haphazard shield.

Something clipped my leg, and I felt my clumsy shield bend and then break with a sharp crack. The momentum threw me off-target, and I hit the dirt hard. The wind practically fled from my lungs, but instincts honed from months of training with Sig forced me into a roll to disperse the momentum. I forced myself back to my feet just in time to watch the boar stumble and collapse in a heap.

I took a few steps back and waited, but the beast did not move. My core was nearly dry, primarily due to clumsy, wasteful castings, but I had enough to pull a shield into place and gather a single, flickering bolt in one hand. So, I slowly crept forward, ready to drive the latter through the beast's skull if it moved.

The boar had hit the ground head-first. Its tusks had torn matching, deep grooves into the dirt, with the left shattering under impact. Two legs looked twisted in the wrong direction, and I felt my stomach clench at the sight of white bone sticking out from more than one place.

Worst of all was a spot at the back of its neck. It looked as if something, or multiple somethings, had torn through its flesh and bone there, leaving a fist-sized hole behind. Through the blood and bone, I could spot bits of-

I turned and swallowed, forcing down the wave of nausea that crept up. It was becoming easier, but I still found my stomach turning at the sight of gore. I released my spells and was still gathering myself when I heard pounding boots reach me.

Several hands grabbed my arms and shoulders, and Rowen forced me behind him. Two other guards joined the foreman, and together, they approached the animal with weapons raised. Rowen stabbed it hard in the neck, twisting it, but the boar did not move.

Then, finally, the men around me relaxed.

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It took several hours for the camp to settle and work to resume in full. Workers loaded the boar's corpse onto a sled and moved it deeper into the settlement, and others worked to dig up fresh dirt and bury the blood, trying to break the trail and avoid drawing other predators.

When I had a chance to speak with Rowen again, it was at the camp's equivalent of an infirmary. The foreman lay on a bed with a bandage wrapped around his thigh from an injury I had not even noticed him take. While he had avoided the worst of it, the edge of the boar's tusk had managed to leave a long but shallow slice along the outside of his leg.

Rowen swore as he adjusted his position, rubbing his face with one hand before looking at me.

"Damned mess, I tell you. Never should've taken this job," Rowen mumbled, shaking his head with a sigh, "But I owe you. That thing would've killed at least a half-dozen more men if you hadn't helped. Thank you, my lord."

"I am an apprentice mage, not a lord," I corrected, pausing before adding, "But you are welcome."

Nick stood beside us, frowning and looking down at the floor. Rowen had already sworn up and down at the innkeeper, stating that all Nick would have done was get in the way, but I felt it had not sunk in.

The room fell silent for a moment before something occurred to me.

"Forgive me if I am prying, but why did no other mages help?" I asked, "There must be some working at the mines. Any adept could have torn that beast limb from limb."

Rowen glanced at the nearby door, then looked back at me, "Couldn't be bothered, I'd guess. Most of 'em are at the mines, digging new tunnels, finding ore veins, and such. There's not enough gold in playin' monster hunter. Not worth the danger."

An image of razor-sharp tusks flashed through my mind, and I nodded. It made sense. More than I cared to admit. Now that I had calmed down, a part of me wondered. Had I helped because I could and it would save people, because it proved that I was not a coward, or because Rowen had the information I wanted?

The older man cleared his throat and spoke before I could consider for too long, saying, "Now...I have to admit something. I can't lead you to that pool."

"Because of your injuries?"

Rowen rubbed the back of his head, "...truthfully, I didn't really know where it was in the first place."

I blinked, "What? You said you had seen it before."

The foreman coughed before responding, "I have. But only once, years ago, it was an accident. Rite o' passage at the mines."

"Used to be that when you started workin' the mines, the old timers would dare you to spend a night in the forest," Nick explained, "Most things would leave you alone back then. Anyone that did would get some coin and earn respect."

"Sounds like a great way to wind up dead," I replied, shaking my head before continuing, "And I assume that is when you found the pool?"

Rowen nodded, "Yeah. I got lost and stumbled onto this clearing. It was huge, see, and in the middle was this pool o' glowing water. Green, like you said. I remember seeing some animals around it, so I turned and ran back out. Just dumb luck that I made it back home."

I sank into the nearest chair and sighed as I rubbed my temple with my thumb, "You intended to charge me a small fortune for that?"

Rowen winced at that, "I would've haggled."

I debated ridiculing the man, but after a pause, I laughed. Both Rowen and Nick looked surprised, but I held up a hand.

"While I would love to feign moral superiority, I am essentially broke. Most of the way here, I was thinking of a way to bargain for your information. Ironic, I suppose."

Any tension in the room dissipated, and Rowen sat up straighter, "I can still tell you what I know, of course, but...don't think it's much use. And, well, I should warn you, sir. The forests not safe."

"Yes, you implied as much. Why?"

"Monsters. They've been worse the last year or two. We get them here and there, but never like this. Used to be, they'd get into food stores. Maybe pick off a dog or cat. But they'd stay away from the main camp."

"But not anymore," I finished, "They act like that boar. Aggressive."

"Stubborn," Rowen corrected, shaking his head, "Boars are mean bastards, but even they'd steer clear if too many guards got close."

That made sense. Dire boars tended to be particularly vengeful, but even they gained enough intelligence to understand the value of discretion. Most could understand that fighting dozens at once was a losing proposition at the best of times.

I drummed my fingers on my leg and considered his words for several minutes. Finally, I looked back to Rowen.

"If you can do three things for me, we can consider any favors paid and forgotten," I said. When Rowen nodded, I continued, "First, I want access to any information on the attacks going as far back as possible. How many, what kinds of beasts, when they started, and the results of the attacks. Second, I want access to the corpse of that boar and, ideally, someone skilled enough to clean and dress it for me."

"I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do, sir," Rowen agreed, "What's third?"

"I need a spear."