They returned to the village under the cover of the night. Nalion had cast the same spell again, the one that hid them in the shadows. The thin elf was starting to look quite tired. Hama had noticed how the dude was lagging behind a bit, probably due to the energy he’d used to keep them hidden. Not to mention the spider thingy, which was weird but also cool.

As they finally reached the village they met with the blacksmith, who’d been worriedly awaiting their return. As the huge hunk of a man crushed his daughter in a bearhug, Hama was ready to pass out where she stood. Wordlessly, she ignored the touching reunion and began trudging towards The Inn. If no-one was awake she’d just break a window, there was no way she was sleeping rough again. Not when there were soft beds just within reach.

They were in luck. The innkeeper was still awake and just closing as they approached the building. Erevan walked in without even sparing a glance at the man in the apron, despite the man's very vocal protests.

“Three rooms. Beer in the morning. Charge the mayor,” the ranger grunted in a rough voice.

She instantly took back every bad thing she’d ever thought of Erevan.

She slowly made her way upstairs, her legs heavy as lead, and into an empty room. With a few steps she collapsed on a warm and comfortable bed in full gear. She was out before her head touched the pillow.

As she made her way downstairs the next morning, far later than she’d usually get up, only Erevan was there. With a beer in his hand. She watched, amused, as Erevan took a long sip and then let out a sigh of pure contentment. As Hama casually strolled to the table, the innkeeper came over with a beer for her as well. She appreciated him honoring their agreement from the night before. Or more like Erevan’s demand. Oh well. Potato, potahto.

“So Nalion’s being a sleepy head? For some reason I thought elves were early risers, don’t know why,” she yawned loudly as she stretched.

Erevan shrugged, eyeing her beer. He muttered something so low that Hama didn’t catch the words.

“Should we go wake him up before he misses breakfast?” Hama asked conversationally.

Erevan shrugged again, seeming uninterested. Jeez, it was like talking to a brick wall. Hama rolled her eyes. Guess it was up to her. She knew her beer to be a lost cause the moment she abandoned it, but she could always get some more later. Besides, Erevan seemed to enjoy it waaaaay more than she did and she truly was a little grateful for his gruff manner since it had scored them nice beds. Also free beds. It really was about the little things in life.

Hama walked up the stairs, muscles aching slightly as a reminder for all the walking and sneaking and fighting done yesterday. And the day before that. She knocked lightly on the door of the room where she’d barely registered Nalion entering during the night. No answer came from within. She knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing.

“Nalion?” She called. “You in there dude?”

She couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side. Maybe Nalion was a deep sleeper, or maybe he was in trouble. Hama examined the lock. It was an old, shitty little rusty lock. She could break it with ease. Readying herself to physically break the whimsy lock and save the bookish elf she slammed into the door with her right shoulder. To her surprise it was unlocked. Which meant that she ended up letting herself in with a lot more force than necessary.

She recovered from her fumble quickly, her eyes scanning the room lightning-fast. There was no threat. There was only Nalion, sitting on the floor looking quite disheveled, fervently reading a book. Hama shook her head, exasperated. Now that was just rude.

Although, it did not seem that Nalion had even noticed her entering the room at all. Based on the rumpled clothing and the dark smudges under his eyes, the elf had been up reading all night. It was impressive, in a way, to be able to fully disappear into something like that.

“Nalion!” she called for him again impatiently. Nalion didn’t move, except to flip a page, all the while muttering something to himself so low Hama could barely hear his voice.

She had had enough of this. Stomping over, she forcibly closed the book with her boot.

“HEY!” Nalion cried out in displeasure, face contorting in distress. “I was reading that!”

“Dude. You’ve pulled an all-nighter, but suuure, who needs breakfast,” she said sarcastically. This is what she got for trying to be nice. “What’s it about anyway, if it’s so fascinating you skipped on sleeping and eating?”

Nalion blinked.

“I don’t…” he trailed off, baffled. “I don’t remember.”

Hama rolled her eyes. That’s what you get for not resting.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, with Nalion looking slightly worse for wear and preoccupied by his thoughts. The mayor didn’t even throw a fit despite his sulking, paying them the amount promised. Though he did take the cost of the night from the reward. Dick.

The next day came around quite monotonously. While eating her dinner, Hama wondered if it was time to breach the subject of the mystery symbol. Her plans were interrupted as all of a sudden a stranger urgently stormed into the Inn. He was a big, beefy, bald, muscular dude, dressed in heavy armor. Upon the dented metal the symbol of the chapel of Kingshold was brandished - an empty, shimmering golden throne, with a yellow lion curled up underneath it with a blue background. Resting in his back was a large two handed ax, the sharp edges of it glistening brightly from the light outside the still open door.

“Innkeeper,” he said with a deep, somber voice. “Do you know if there are any mercenaries for hire nearby, or any farmhand skilled with a weapon? I find myself in sore need of assistance.”

Intriguing. She kept a sharp eye on the situation while balancing on the furthermost legs of her chair, her own legs securely resting on the table in front of her despite Erevans glare. Actually, a bit because of Erevans glare. Nalion, however, seemed to still be lost in his own mind as he frowned at his meal.

“Well, that depends on the price,” Hama called out, a smirk sliding its way on her lips.

The stranger turned to look at the trio, eyeing them up and down as he seemed to assess their competence. It appeared they passed the test since the human walked to their table in long, hefty steps.

“If you can handle yourselves, I’ll be willing to pay for it. How much do you ask?”

Ah, time to haggle. It proved to be easy as the warrior-priest was willing to pay a high sum. As long as they got the job done.

“Before we agree, what do you need us to do?” Nalion asked, blinking as he came out of his stupor.

“There are two things that need looking into and I can’t do both, not fast enough. There’s a town near the sea and a village further to the west, both reporting strange incidents. It does seem that time is of the essence. Will you help me?”

Hama met Erevans blue and Nalions hazel-brown gaze. The both of them shrugged. Erevan obviously did not care whereas Nalion seemed to trust her judgment. It felt kind of nice to be appreciated. Due to this, Hama decided to choose the one with less people. She had noticed that neither Nalion nor Erevan really seemed to care for crowds.

“Alright, we’ll check out the village. IF you pay up half upfront and meet us up to pay the other half after we’re done,” Hama said, ever the haggler.

“Agreed,” the priest said solemnly. “I’ll be on my way after a hot meal and I recommend you do the same. The village is called Öldshire, about two days walk from here. Find a hunter named John Grayhem, he’s the one who wrote us. It is a shame to outsource this but we're stretched so thin at the moment.”

He paused for a moment.

“A lot of odd things are happening and a lot of people are in need of help. I’ll meet you there as soon as possible, maybe I will even have time to help. Thank you, and may the Maker’s will be with you.”

“As it's with you,” recited Hama from memory, trying to keep the smirk out of her voice.

They were going to be RICH!

The village of Öldshire was a small village at the edge of a forest, around the same size as the village they had left. It appeared quaint, the villagers minding their own business. Yet something was raising Hamas hackles, the tiny hairs in her neck constantly standing up. She kept having the urge to double check that her sword was easily within reach, which kept growing the longer they walked in the village.

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Hama grimaced behind her bandana. It was not the best of signs, something was definitely off. She was pretty sure Erevan felt it too, as the rangers glares seemed more intimidating and sullen than usual. No one in the village was outright rude to them yet Hama distinctly felt that they weren’t wanted here. It was all a bit creepy.

Hama asked around about a John Grayhem and was begrudgingly directed towards a small house at the very edge of the village, next to the forest. As they neared the house, a man in his mid-thirties perked up at the sight of them. He was the most average looking Luccan Hama had ever seen, with messy light brown hair and bright blue eyes. Seriously, this dude would be impossible to spot in a crowd. Even his clothes were mundane. Despite this, he clearly stood out as he enthusiastically waved them over.

“Hello!” he called out loudly, voice filled with excitement and relief.

About time someone was happy to see them.

“Are you from the Chapel?”

“Not directly, but hired by them. You’re John I presume? Now we heard you’ve had some trouble?” Hama countered nonchalantly.

“Yes, and not trouble, not exactly, but…” the hunter drifted off, looking towards the village. He seemed concerned. “We should go inside to discuss this further.”

The trio followed the hunter into his small hut. Once the door was closed he gestured for them to take seats near a small wooden table. The chair, also made of wood, creaked slightly as Hama sat down. Everything inside looked worn down, but obviously loved as they’d been well taken care of. As they looked around, John busied himself by pouring a bit of clear water for each of them. From her right, Erevan spoke up abruptly.

“You got beer?”

The hunter nodded uncertainly.

“I’ll take beer,” Erevan rasped, looking satisfied.

Soon they all had their beverages in hand and John joined them by the round table. The hunter seemed somewhat agitated, his leg bouncing up and down and up and down nervously.

“Ready to spill the beans?” Hama queried as she took a sip of her water, relishing the refreshingness of it. Must be from a spring nearby.

“The thing is,” John began with a low voice. “For some time now I’ve been finding a lot of dead animals in the woods. Sure, that happens every now and again, but not this often and not this many. Another peculiar thing is that only the hearts are missing. Everything else is left to rot. Now that just doesn’t sit right with me, what kind of animal would do that?”

The man paused to draw breath.

“There’s more. Ever since the odd animal deaths, the people in the village have been acting… Strange. Not in an obvious way, but these are people I’ve known my whole life and something just feels off. I didn’t know what to do so I wrote to the chapel, asking for help.”

“That does sound odd,” Nalion mumbled, brow wrinkled. “I haven’t heard or read about any animal that would do that. B-”

John gestured enthusiastically towards Nalion, interrupting the scrawny elf. The hunter’s whole body language screamed THANK YOU, as he rushed out the rest he had to say.

“I KNOW RIGHT! But no one is taking me seriously, they keep brushing this off like it isn’t a big deal, like I shouldn’t try to find out more! People were more disturbed in the beginning yet the more time has passed, more and more people seem to think that there’s nothing to worry about!”

The trio exchanged grim glances. It did seem like something was afoot.

Over the next few days Hama, Erevan and Nalion tried everything they could think of. They interviewed the villagers, only for them to talk their way around the questions or outright refuse to answer. Most of them seemed to have bit odd features, as if they shared some distant relatives. The incestuous implications made her wrinkle her nose in disgust. Big cities might have their problems but at least the genetic pool was more diverse. Quite frankly, their faces and mannerisms reminded her a little bit of the rats skittering about the capitol.

Not getting anywhere with the villagers, the trio decided to try to get a closer look at forest and the dead animals. Seeing their mangled corpses did, however, not add anything they didn’t already know from what the hunter had told them.

For each day that passed, John was getting more and more defeated. It appeared they wouldn’t be able to solve this after all. They had even tried setting up a watch in the woods to see if they might catch a glimpse of whatever it was that was behind the deaths, but saw nothing of interest.

They were getting ready to admit that this was a lost cause. Hama mourned for the loss of money. It would have been a lot of gold. At least they had gotten half of it so being here wasn’t a complete waste of time. As they packed their bags, Hama offered her sincerest condolences to the hunter. All of a sudden, Nalion let out a loud “OH!”

“What is it Nalion, you figured something out?” asked John, hope rekindling in his eyes.

“No, no, no, not that,” Nalion dismissed the human, excited about something in his bag. “I just saw this!”

Nalion proceeded to eagerly pull out a scroll. “I wrote down some herbs that I would like to collect, but I don’t know where to find them here. Do you know any of them?”

“Sure, I can take a look,” the hunter said, a bit stunned.

Nalion positively beamed as he unrolled the scroll. It kept going, and going, and going, and going… Hamas eyebrows disappeared behind her hair. Which was impressive in and of itself considering how short she kept it. That was a lot of herbs. Poor John looked overwhelmed as well. After recovering from the initial shock due to the sheer amount of words scribbled down neatly, the hunter began to read through the scroll. Every time he saw some plant he knew, he gave a small nod.

“Err, there are many I don’t recognize, but I do know several from the list. I can take you out in the forest and show you if you want?” the hunter said, hesitant.

“YES PLEASE!” Nalion sang out as he clapped his hands together in front of his face, positively wiggling of glee.

Hama rolled her eyes fondly. She was starting to care about the silly elf. She turned towards Erevan.

“While they go for some riveting herb-picking, you want to take one last look around the village?”

Erevan shrugged noncommittally, looking bored. “Sure.”

And so they split up by the forest, Nalion and John disappearing behind the trees as Hama and Erevan walked towards the center of the village. They didn’t get far until Hama spotted something odd. A door to one of John’s neighbors was slightly crooked, left ajar as if by mistake. She nudged at Erevan with her elbow and nodded her head almost imperceptibly towards the door. Erevan frowned, also noting the oddity of the sight considering how tightlipped the villagers had been.

Hama lifted her eyebrows, silently asking if Erevan wanted to check it out. Erevan nodded.

“Should we wait for Nalion?” She asked as an afterthought.

“Naah,” said Erevan. “Let him have his fun.”

Hama smiled. It appeared she wasn’t the only one beginning to care, even if the gruff man hadn’t realized it yet.

There was no one around so Hama and Erevan simply walked in. The house was small, the entrance quickly giving way to a tiny fireplace and a dining room. Hama could feel her muscles tense, the same creepy feeling she’d first had when they’d arrived at the village suddenly attacked her senses in full force.

“Look,” Erevan muttered, as he scowled at a carpet. Hama was ready to dismiss it as Erevan getting offended by the color, shape, material or whatever about the carpet, until she noticed what Erevan must’ve seen. The carpet was very slightly askew, as if someone had hastily dragged it to its place. Erevan walked forward, nudging the light material with the front of his boot, revealing a hatch.

“Hell yes!” Hama exclaimed, pumping her forearm up in victory. They were gonna get paid after all! Unless it turned out to be some boring storage for food, then they were merely invading an innocent villager's privacy for no reason.

They opened the hatch, it being surprisingly heavy, to find a flimsy ladder made of ropes going down.

“Grumpies first,” Hama smirked, satisfied as she received a glare while Erevan began climbing down. She followed suit. Good thing she had brought her backpack, she mused as she rummaged around in it to get a torch. Being blind sucked.

Now with the help of the light they began creeping forward a narrow, earthy tunnel. The air felt stuffy and carried an unpleasant odor. It all seemed quite shady. Hama was so getting paid. She felt a bit giddy.

At the end of the tunnel there was an old, wooden door. Erevan did the tried-and-true method of eavesdropping as he was prone to do, shaking his head to signal Hama that he could not hear anything. Which probably meant that there was nothing of importance to hear, considering Erevans hearing was so keen it was almost scary.

He opened the door and Hamas nose was ambushed by a disgusting stench of old blood and rotting flesh. She made a gagging gesture with her fingers, making Erevan roll his eyes. Thank gods for her bandana, it must’ve filtered out the worst of it. She felt slightly bad for Erevan who had nothing to cover his nose with. Only slightly though.

They stepped inside and found themselves to be in a cramped dungeon of sorts. She was getting a lot of do-it-yourself vibes. On the wall behind the door there were what she first had assumed were mutilated body parts hanging on it. On a closer look she noticed that there were two huge torsos securely attached to the wall by rusty metal meathooks. Hama didn’t recognize what creatures they were, other than that they were the same species. Their eyes were shut as their heads lolled to the side. On the floor there lay heaps of arms and legs, all in varying states of decay and growth. The sizes varied from tiny baby appendages into much larger and furrier versions.

The smell was absolutely dreadful.

On top of the two torsos, there were several hearts attached. To her great unease, she could see them beat. ALL of them. Yeah, that’s not creepy at all.

Hama nearly let out a scream as one of the heads opened its eyes. She’d thought they were dead! The other one opened their eyes as well.

“Who you?” the first one uttered.

Hama put her hand on her chest, trying to still her racing heart.

“Erevan,” grunted Erevan. “That Hama. Who you?”

“We troll,” said the other one.

“Wh-, why are you here? And why are you there?” Hama asked, utterly bewildered as she gestured towards the hooks.

“Rat,” mused the first one wisely.

This made absolutely no sense to her, but seemed to be completely understandable by the other troll as they nodded along.

“Right, rat,” she said sarcastically. The trolls must’ve lost their minds in their captivity, after having their limbs severed gods knew how many times. “Why are there hearts all over your bodies?”

The trolls’ faces went blank, as if she would have asked them to do multiple difficult calculations simultaneously. After a beat, Erevan spoke up: “Why heart?”

“Troll grow heart,” said the first troll. The other one added, “Heart stay good.”

Hama resisted the urge to grab her head in frustration. If she understood correctly, and that was a big IF, that meant that these torsos must be of trolls that were somehow still alive and were being used in some perverse heart-farm - growing ones that had gotten damaged and keeping fresh the ones that weren’t. Which meant that this must be where all the missing hearts had gone. It had to be, there’s no way this was just a coincidence.

“What kind of sick fuck would do this?” Hama questioned out loud, feeling vaguely ill.

“Maybe they are eating them?” suggested Erevan, looking wary. “The hearts I mean. Making this… Storage.”

Hama guessed she’d been right with the whole food storage idea after all. Sans the boring part. There were many a word she could use to describe this place: horrifying, revolting, appalling… But boring definitely wasn’t one of them.

The first troll nodded sagely, as if Erevan was dealing out some particularly good wisdom. “Yes, rat eat heart.”

They were getting nowhere in this discussion. Now Hama wasn’t overly fond of trolls, but unleashing them onto whoever had done this pleased the vengeful part of her as it seemed well-deserved. After all, no sane goody-two-shoes had a murder chamber / heartfarm dungeon underneath their house. Bolstered by this she tried to lift one of the torsos off the hooks. Unfortunately she didn’t have the upper body strength for it, as the torso didn’t budge even slightly. Erevan sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and came to help her.

Hama smirked. He so was starting to go soft on them. After some exertion, they managed to get both the torsos down.

“We thank. You nice. Troll like,” said the second troll as the first one began dragging its torso along the floor with the help of its tongue. The other one then joined his companion. Hama scrunched up her nose in disgust. All the gravel they must be getting in their mouths, not to even think about all the body parts and blood mixed with the dirt… Good thing they had the whole regeneration thing going on, otherwise they’d surely get sick and die out of the sheer amount of grime and dirt. She ignored the churning of her gut as she turned towards Erevan.

“Guess it’s time to go up and bust whoever owns this place.”

Erevan nodded, expression grim. Hama was glad to see they were in agreement once more. They seemed to have worked out the worst of the kinks in fighting together, based on their last encounter. It was going to be child’s play.

What was the worst that could happen?