Ferodias POV / Ten Years Earlier

His heart was pounding in his ears, the thrum of battle lingering for longer than it needed to as he pants hotly. He looked around the wooded area, between the trees, and around the trampled grass, and all he saw were the mangled corpses of monsters. He forced himself to focus, and before long, he could sense and hear his friends and allies; they all seemed to be okay, if not reasonably exhausted. "Sound off!" He called out, wiping the blood off the blade on his pant leg before sheathing it as his tail curled and lashed behind him.

"Here and a'okay!" A voice called out; it was from Brasyl, a young half-orc archer who wielded a bow that was impossibly hard for most people to draw and used unique, heavy arrows. The grey-skinned fellow stepped out of some brush and into view with a toothy grin, his face, chest, and right arm coated in blood that wasn't his own as he used a dirty rag to polish off his knife. "Those bastards sure got the drop on us, eh, Rodi?" He mused cheerfully enough.

Ferodias couldn't help but smirk a bit at the half-orc, it was a very close fight, but they did slaughter the infestation of branch bugs that had been terrorizing the local farming villages. At the very least, they culled the population, and they shouldn't be an issue until next spring. His ears twitched as he heard the squelching of bug flesh, turning to see Monty, a human teen warrior who planned to open his restaurant when he saved up enough coin to retire. He was currently grabbing tokens from each branch bug for proof of their total kill count. Upon seeing Ferodias spot him, Monty smiled while waving a branch bug head. "I'm good over here!" He chirped, stuffing the head away in a large sack before moving to the next one.

"I hate bugs." A voice said as they came up behind Ferodias, though he didn't need to turn to know who it was. Regan stepped up beside Ferodias, the half-elf wiping the blood off the end of his magic staff. "All those extra spindly limbs and that disturbing screeching, ugh." He complained as he shuddered before stamping the end of his staff into the dirt and leaning into it. "I would have rathered gone after those grappler bears that were seen near that mining town; at least they have the good decency not to swarm and get gooey blood all over the place."

Ferodias couldn't help but smirk with amusement at his best friend's expense; before he could respond, Regan was nearly knocked over by Danica, a young dwarven teen with an impressive goatee and an equally impressive hammer, as she smacked Regan's back a few times. "Ah, quit your bellyachin Spells; I kept them off ya well enough." She mused mischievously before going over to join Monty with the monster butchering.

Regan scowled with vague annoyance before sighing as he turned to face Ferodias. "Are you absolutely certain you want 'all' of these individuals as your guardians?" He asked, lowering his voice to a near whisper as they spoke privately. "At least reconsider, Danica, if only for my sanity." He mentioned, not sounding serious but making his point.

Ferodias' ears twitched as he flashed a small smile, speaking softly to keep this conversation between themselves. "Why not? They're all good people, strong for their age too; I'm sure they'll be up to snuff by the time the trials are called to a close." They've had this conversation a few times now, but it was only this time that Ferodias really felt genuinely confident of the people he gathered. The members of their party had shifted around a few times over the last couple of years, with Brasyl being the latest member and Danica being the longest-standing member so far. "Besides, you're just jealous she's paying more attention to Monty than you nowadays, aren't you?" He teased mischievously, speaking normally as he waggled his ears while looking over at the half-elf.

Regan flushed, though a frown was soon on his face. "As if, like I would want a woman in the shape of a barrel." He retorted as he looked away.

Danica called out from where she was, ripping off some bark bug limbs with Monty, no doubt planning on adding that to dinner tonight. "Don't worry, Spells; you're too much of a twig for me anyways." She called out playfully, taking it all in stride as she grinned while the other guys chuckled at the scene.

Ferodias couldn't help but laugh at his friend's expense before joining the others as they rounded up the bug heads, all in all, they managed to kill around thirty-seven bugs, and for three silver a head and the reward for the job itself, it was looking to be a good payday for their efforts; not to mention some extra protein for their next few meals. The day soon turned to evening, and their party had set up camp among the trees during their trek back to the nearest guildhall a few towns away. Monty had got a firepit going and set about making dinner, which was comprised of fire-grilled and salted bug legs, some hard bread, and dried fruits. Danica meticulously tended to everyone's weapons, ensuring they were polished and free of any bug guts or blood that were possibly missed earlier. Brasyl had procured a hard case with a latch, pulling out a lyre which he began playing, the delicate looking instrument producing a sweet little melody as the group waited for the food to be cooked.

They had been resting around the fire for some time, the bug meat ending up giving off a rather delicious smell, admittedly. Monty still tending to the fire while turning the legs over a portable wire grill. It was peaceful and quiet, save for Brasyl's music, that was until Regan started shifting around his tent, stepping into the open while clutching his staff. He only had his pants on, but he looked serious as his eyes stared into the darkness around them. Well, it was dark for most of them; with the aid of the flamelight, they could peer fairly far into the darkness; only Monty was relatively blind to anything beyond the reach of the flamelight. "What is it, Spells?" Danica spoke up, tossing Ferodias his sheathed blade and passing over Monty's spear. Brasyl set his lyre down and collected his bow as he notched an arrow.

Regan looked around, his eyes darting side to side. "Movement, we have trespassers who crossed the first threshold of the security perimeter I set..." He explained in a hushed voice.

"How many?" Ferodias asked as he drew his blade, retrieving his shield from beside his tent and standing at the ready, his tail curling close as his ears twitched and strained to catch any sounds beyond the crackle of the wood in the fireplace.

Regan pointed his staff in a direction as the group turned and readied themselves. "We got three, and they're closing in on us; they must have seen the fire." He reasoned as he twitched. "They're sixty feet away; they just crossed the second threshold." He reported, though his brow furrowed as he tilted his head. "Hold on, four more trespassers just crossed the first threshold in the same direction as the first group."

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"What does that mean?" Brasyl asked as he drew his bow, the weighty limbs bending in response to the half-orc's strength as he aimed into the grey darkness. Regan didn't answer at first as Brasyl narrowed his eyes. "Spotted the first set... It looks like people in dresses!" He exclaimed, confusion apparent in his voice, though he didn't let his arms relax.

Regan had his eyes shut for a moment before opening them. "Adjust your aim a finger to the left and down, fire!" He ordered, Brasyl making the slight adjustments as the heavy arrow was loosed with a 'thwum,' an animalistic yelp sounding out a split-second later.

In mere moments, the three figures Brasyl had spotted were now in range of the flamelight; there were three women, two looking relatively untouched, save for some bruising and torn clothes. It was the third woman that caught Ferodias' eyes; she was pummeled brutally, her lip split, and one of her eyes had swollen shut, her dress had been ripped to shreds, and she was absolutely drenched in blood. He wanted to say something, speak to her, but he heard howls in the air and remembered at least three more things were chasing these women.

Regan stepped forward, raising his staff and firing off bolts of lightning, the energy arcing through the air and colliding into what appeared to be an enraged hound, frying the beast; there were two more left, having avoided being caught in the blast of electricity as both Monty and Ferodias stepped forward. The human brought his spear low before deftly thrusting into the open maw of one of the hounds, while Ferodias brought his shield up and bashed the remaining beast in the middle of its lunge, stunning it for a moment when he followed up with a downward slash and beheaded it.

The whole ordeal was over before it really began, Danica stepping forward and examining the beast corpses as Ferodias looked over to the women. "What's going on here?" He said, doing his best to present a gentle display despite the fresh blood coating his blade and arm.

The trio of ladies, upon closer inspection, were just girls barely older than Brasyl but younger than Ferodias. Two of them were clearly shaken but doing their absolute best to maintain their composure. The third and worse off seemed more hardened and collected, yet her gaze was distant and not focused. While she certainly looked like she was beaten to shit, because she was, Ferodias realized that most of the blood on her body wasn't hers as it coated her right arm and chest. If he had to guess, she managed to kill someone with that blood-drenched dagger she was clutching.

It took a few moments, but a wolfkin girl with mostly human features spoke up. "I am Lady Nerva Foundeli, daughter of Viscount Foundeli." She said before gesturing to the younger of the trio, who was a half-elf that was shuddering almost uncontrollably despite trying her best to remain stoic. "She is Lady Roche Ferdina, daughter of Baron Ferdina." She then gestured to the battered teen human and spoke up, her own voice shaky and faltering from whatever experience they had gone through. "She is Lady Historietta Blackstone, daughter of Count Blackstone." She explained, taking a moment to clear her throat before looking among her rescuers. "We had been kidnapped three days ago, coming from a banquet in the capital... They were planning on holding us for ransom, but we overheard them talking of... of... Using us..." She said, choking on her own words, trying and failing to maintain her composure as Danica went about getting the ladies to sit by the fire, though Historietta remained standing where she was. "They planned on having their ways with us before throwing us away once they got their ransom... It was a day later that Historietta got the attention of one of those vagrants and began insulting him and his mother. She... She seemed to be somehow accurate as she managed to enrage him to the point where he entered the room we were locked in." She said, shivering as she recalled the event. "We begged her to stop, not to make things worse; however, it was too late, and he started to pummel her... We could do nothing since our arms were bound, but somehow she managed to free herself in the midst of the beating and got her hands on his knife." She then glanced over at Historietta, a mix of fear and awe in her voice. "She spilled his guts and freed us and managed to get the jump on one of the other bandits, killing him in his sleep. We managed to escape, but after some time, we heard those foul beasts hot on our heels. We saw your fire in the distance and ran towards you, hoping for the best." She said, gratefully taking a wooden cup with water as Monty passed them to the two ladies, Historietta still standing off to the side.

Brasyl spoke up, having returned to the camp with a bloodied arrow as he looked among the others. "Those hounds were domesticated; someone sent these things after these ladies." He said, not having been there for the story.

Danica nodded at his words. "Yeah, we have a kidnapping situation on our hands; these ladies just escaped." She explained, Brasyl's eyes going wide before bobbing his head as he cleaned off the arrow and tucked it away in his large quiver.

Ferodias approached Historietta, reaching out to touch her shoulder but then thinking better of it. "You alright, Lady Historietta? Can I get you something to eat or drink?" He asked softly, his tail curling tightly behind him in distress at seeing a young woman in such a state.

It took a moment, but she seemed to come out of her fugue and looked directly at Ferodias; she averted her gaze, seemingly looking at something before croaking out some incomprehensible words and curtsying. It was almost regal as she grabbed what remained of her tattered dress to do so.

Lady Nerva spoke up while watching this take place. "I'm afraid Lady Historietta cannot speak right now; that vagrant she antagonized had grabbed her by her throat before she had been slammed around. Frankly, I'm surprised she can even breathe properly."

Ferodias looked and felt distressed, worry plain on his face, even as Historietta offered a small smile and wincing as she did so. Regan soon returned from the shadows as he spoke out. "I've reinforced my security wards with more lethal charms; we shouldn't have any more uninvited guests of the unsavory sort." He explained, offering a bit of a smile until he got a good look at Lady Historietta and winced at her condition. "Oh gods, give me a second." He said, heading over to his tent and grabbing his pack; he soon returned with a small vial of red liquid and uncorked it. "Here, a healing potion; I just bought it last week." He explained before going around behind her and placing a hand on her back. "Don't mind me; I'm just gonna use some life magic to amplify the potion's effects." He explained gently, a faint blue light radiating from his palm as Historietta slowly downed the potion, wincing with each swallow.

Monty offered a smile as he set out some bug legs and dried fruits on some wooden plates and passed them to the ladies. "Sorry about the cuts of meat, but you should eat up and gather your strength; we still have a bit of trek before we're back in a major city." He explained. The two ladies certainly looked skeptical at their plates, but they managed to give their thanks. Despite their reservations, they were soon digging in, breaking the fire-charred chitin to get to the soft meat on the inside.

As the minutes ticked by, Ferodias procured a water skin, a change of clothes, a towel, and a spare set of shoes and came over to Historietta and Regan. The duo was now sitting on the ground, with Regan on his knees behind her, Regan's magical light still glowing as Historietta's skin gradually stitched itself back together, the bruising and swelling receding as she seemed to even breathe more easily. "Here, once you're done, I've set up some tarps and a light nearby, so you take these and change out of those blood-soaked clothes and rinse off with this water skin." He explained before holding up the water skin in particular. "It's enchanted with water magic to refill every six hours, so don't worry about using it all." He mentioned.

Historietta took a slow breath before speaking up, her voice still scratchy but nowhere near as bad as it was earlier. "Thank you again; I'll be in your care." She said, bowing her head again.

After a few moments, Regan pulled away and stood as he looked down at the Lady, Ferodias being quick to offer his hand to help her to her feet. "Alright, that is as much as I can do for now without overly exhausting you. Get some rest, and we'll do this again in the morning." He explained, shooting Ferodias a curious glance while Historietta got to her feet. Lady Historietta once again bowed her head before walking away with the things Ferodias had brought; Ferodias couldn't help but watch as she left, though that's when Regan poked him in the ribs and quirked a brow at him. "What do you think you're doing? You're smitten with her, aren't you? Don't you remember that you can't tell anyone who you really are?" He chastised in a harsh whisper. "Don't do anything stupid."

Ferodias winced before chuckling sheepishly; he hadn't realized he was being that obvious; then again, Regan could read him like a book. "S-sorry... I... I just couldn't help but admire how composed and capable she is and how she's handling herself right now, even more so than the other ladies." He replied as his ears waggled while he scratched the back of his head.

Regan nodded, seemingly agreeing with that. "You're right... It's almost as if she's gone through this before." He mentioned worriedly. "Just watch yourself, don't go compromising your trials when you've come this far." He warned quietly as he pats Ferodias' shoulder before rejoining the group.

Ferodias nodded, though he looked over at the changing area he set up, catching a vague silhouette of the lady as he felt his cheeks heat up. "I'll try... But gods... What a woman."