High in the Whitestone Mountains, a small demon tribe lived in seclusion from the rest of the world. These particular demons had been ostracized from the larger community of tribes due to their cannibalistic tendencies—a step too far, even for their fellow demons.
This tribe bore unique features that only added to their voracious nature and depravity. Their upper bodies resembled those of large, red humanoids, but their lower halves were centipede-like, composed of sharp, skittering legs that stretched far behind them as they moved.
Like the insects they resembled, these demons were voracious eaters, preferring to reside in damp, dark cave structures, where they gorged themselves on the flesh of whatever unfortunate creature crossed their path.
The leader of this tribe was a female magic user named Katukla. She was not proficient in many spells, but she possessed the rare ability to glimpse the future through her dreams.
Waking from her slumber in a panic, Katukla rushed toward the wall of the narrow cave where she had been sleeping. Without stopping, her insectile legs carried her straight up the wall and onto the ceiling before she finally came to her senses, jarred by the abrupt awakening.
In her dream, she had seen a young man wielding a mighty sword of fire, cutting down demons by the dozens as he rampaged across the battlefield. Once she gathered her wits, she rushed to awaken the members of her tribe, a terrible hissing voice escaping her mouth as she screamed.
“The gods have gifted me with a vision of the future! A terrible scourge is growing among the humans! He must not be allowed to mature! We must ensure his demise!”
A rising murmur of hisses spread through the cave as dozens of demons stood, clutching jagged weapons carved from the sharpened bones of some massive creature they had surely devoured in the past. Katukla raised her bone dagger high, letting out another hiss before surging forward, her dozens of insectile legs moving in unison as she dashed toward the cave’s exit. Behind her, her tribe scrambled to follow, their clamor echoing through the dark tunnels.
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Anthony awoke the next morning to the sound of rapid knocking on his door, accompanied by Elara’s cheerful voice urging him to wake up. Rolling onto his side, he sat up, rubbed his sleepy eyes, and stared at the door.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
“Wakey, wakey!”
“Guess she’s feeling better…” he mumbled under his breath as he hurriedly pulled on his clothes before strapping on his armor and securing his sword at his waist.
KNOCK KNOCK KNO— The final knock was cut off as Anthony hastily pulled open the door, meeting Elara with an unamused expression. Either she didn’t notice or she simply didn’t care, smiling brightly as she grabbed him by the arm and led him away.
Anthony’s fatigue quickly faded as he caught sight of Edgar and his team eating breakfast in the inn’s dining room. A budding excitement stirred in his chest—if they were already back, it meant they would soon be heading to Highwarden. He had never been to a big city before and was eager to see what it had to offer.
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Elara wasted no time speaking as she and Anthony pulled up chairs to join the table.
“How did it go, Nana? Did the wargs give you any trouble?”
The elven matriarch smiled pleasantly at her granddaughter, idly twirling a grape on the plate in front of her.
“Not too much trouble. We weren’t able to find the last juvenile male, but the clerk at the town hall informed us that a red-skinned girl had already taken care of it.”
Elara beamed with pride as she recounted the story of the goblin hunt that had turned into an emergency warg extermination, describing in vivid detail how she had valiantly slain the creature with her poisoned dagger spell.
From there, the discussion shifted to the far less pleasant retelling of the ambush orchestrated by Anthony’s stepfather, as well as how they had ended up recruiting a third teammate.
Edgar listened carefully, scratching his chin thoughtfully as Anthony described the powerful energy he had accidentally summoned during the battle.
“Hmm. I never expected you to achieve so much so quickly. That cultivation technique of yours is truly not to be underestimated,” Edgar mused.
With breakfast finished, the group of mercenaries headed upstairs to pack their belongings and prepare for the journey home. Meanwhile, Elara and Anthony set off to fetch Pom before regrouping with the team at the main road leading out of the small mountain town.
Anthony was eager to get moving, but Pom felt bittersweet about leaving her family behind. The young redhead kept glancing back at the town wistfully, anxiety creeping into her chest at the thought of heading out on her own for the first time.
As the group descended the mountainside, Pom watched the town grow smaller in the distance. When she glanced back for what must have been the hundredth time, her big brown eyes narrowed. An unusual amount of smoke was rising above the town.
“W-What do you think that’s all about, Anthony? It’s not the time of year for the farmers to be burning.”
As the younger mercenaries discussed the strange sight, Belle’s expression suddenly turned grave. She placed a hand on Edgar’s shoulder and motioned toward the town, urging him to take a look.
Edgar glanced back casually at first, but the moment his eyes locked onto the scene behind them, his hand clenched tightly around the grip of his sword. Every muscle in his body went rigid.
“You think so too? I was hoping it was merely my own tendency to fear the worst…” Belle whispered.
Edgar shut his eyes briefly, a flicker of sadness crossing his face before it was replaced with steely resolve. Turning to the group, he spoke with authority.
“Listen up, everyone. This is an emergency. Something has gone very wrong back in Whitestone—by the looks of it, they’re under attack.”
The color drained from Pom’s face. She shifted anxiously from side to side, staring at the smoke-filled horizon. Before she even realized what she was doing, her feet had already started carrying her back toward the town. Anthony and Elara both stepped forward, grabbing her before she could take more than a few steps.
“W-What do we do?” Anthony asked, holding Pom’s shaking hand.
“We leave. Now!” Belle was the first to respond, urging the group to quicken their pace as she and Edgar led them further down the mountainside. The small band of mercenaries moved swiftly, putting several miles between themselves and the town over the next half-hour.
Just as Anthony had begun to believe the danger had passed, Belle, Edgar, and Garren suddenly took up defensive positions around the younger members of the group. Their weapons were drawn, their faces grim.
“What is it?” Anthony asked softly, unsheathing his sword as his eyes darted around the surrounding vegetation, searching urgently for the threat.
A moment later, a sound reached them—the rapid skittering of something large, like an oversized insect rushing down the mountain.
As the noise grew closer, two massive red-and-black creatures burst from the treeline.
“Demons!” Elara’s face twisted into a furious scowl as she raised her daggers. Garren and Edgar stepped forward to engage, while Belle dashed away, pulling the string of her shortbow taut as she let loose a glowing red arrow at the nearest demon.
The arrow streaked through the air like a missile, emitting a high-pitched scream as it hurtled toward the demon’s head. At the last moment, the creature raised its forearm to block the incoming attack.
A furious hiss was emitted from its throat as the arrow plunged into its flesh.