Traveler

Azlyn flipped over her book, preparing her first attack pattern. She and the conjurer had to quickly dodge as the creature violently slammed it’s arm into the cave over them. The ceiling released bits of rock and rumble, causing them to dance around. 

Her carbuncle let loose several wind bursts into the creatures side—and they watched it try to trample it underfoot. The conjurer called out to her. “I sense something awry with this creature. Be on your guard!” 

Azlyn nodded, moving from one cover to another, delivering several ruin spells in the process. One of her spells happened to hit it square in the face, momentarily stunning it, and allowing her carbuncle to happily bounced itself up from the ground. When the creature had shook its head to clear its senses, her carbuncle unleashed another torrent of wind into it’s eyes. 

The creature roared, shaking the very foundation of the place. Azlyn struggled to catch her step, as she noticed several of the bobbing lights starting to send out elemental shocks of energy to attack them. 

“Ware! The disruption of the aether draws others to the fray!” 

While her carbuncle had taken the creatures attention away, Azlyn attempted to whittle down the add ons. One of them fizzled out after a third successful hit, but she failed to notice the second glob of energy sending out a force of energy into her back. The force sent her flying from cover, and her book out of her hands. 

“More unwelcome visitors? Slay them quickly lest we be overwhelmed.” 

Her back was stinging, but she rolled herself into a crouching position. As the new enemies came upon her, she did the only thing she could—started to unleash several punch and kicks all around. Her brain triggered back to when she was younger, fighting hand combat against G’raha. 

Being a martial fighter was much more difficult, as one was more likely to get hit within such close combat—but it was advantageous when it was against casters. Luckily for her, these spirits needed a bit of cool down to send out their energy blasts. She was pretty quick with her clenched fists, and seeing an opening, she flipped out from the center of the throng to her discarded book. 

A wave of healing energy washed over her. “Keep your focus on the battle! Leave the tending of wounds to me.” Azlyn looked back to the conjurer who gave her a wicked wide smile. She picked up her book, opening it with a flourish.

She wasted no time, unleashing a storm of spells into the clustered spirits. When they were all fizzled out, Azlyn turned her attention to the massive creature being played with by her carbuncle. Lifting her book up, she started to spin out the magic formulas for bio and miasma. She hoped it would further weaken it as it continued being pummeled by elemental magic for all sides. 

“The creature falters. Press the attack and the battle will soon be won!” She heard the girl yell over the next roar. 

Azlyn continued to cast spell after spell, and eventually felt a new spell at her disposal. She quickly jotted the formulae into the air, and watched an aetheric energy shifted and wrapped around the open wounds of the creature. Whatever miasma and bio had oozed into it’s open wounds started to fester and boil, and effectively bringing it down for good. It collapsed onto its belly, unable to get up. 

She sighed in relief, pulling her book back into her holster. Only to have a wracking pain erupt inside her head. Her carbuncle looked at her with worry as she started to grip her own head. 

Hear—

Azlyn gritted her teeth, as she commanded her carbuncle away with a wave of her hand. 

Feel—

She could see the Miqo’te examining the creature in front of them, only Azlyn couldn’t hear what they were saying. She was saying something. 

Think—

Darkness—the pain eased as she felt herself floating in an astral Black Sea of emptiness. Only it wasn’t empty—standing before her was a towering crystal, larger than anything she had ever seen in her life. Amazed by just the size of it, she allowed herself to float forward, until she came close enough to touch. 

Crystal Bearer—

Azlyn looked up and around, this was different. She never heard those words in her dreams before. 

I am Hydaelyn. All made one. A light there once was that shone throughout this realm—yet it hath grown dim. 

And as it hath faltered, so hath Darkness risen up in its stead, presaging an end to Life. 

She widened her eyes at this sentence. An end to Life? Was that the foretelling of the seventh umbral calamity to come? What could she even do about it. Her fists tightened as she looked up. 

For the sake of all, I beseech thee: deliver us from this fate! The power to banish the Darkness dwellers in the Crystals of Light. Journey forth and lay claim to them. By thy deed shall the Crystals reveal themselves to thee.

Azlyn felt her jaw drop. Hydaelyn wanted her to be the one to stop this? Was this what her parents meant five years ago? Was this her place in life—to fight off the impending darkness? She looked uncertain, gripping the sides of her ripped shirt. 

Only believe, for the Light liveth in thy heart. 

Somehow she was able to sense the uncertainty in Azlyn, delivering upon her one last verdict. 

Go now, my child, and shine thy Light on all creation. 

A bright light enveloped her, taking away to landscape of the dark sea and the towering crystal. She groaned in pain, and found herself dizzy. Laying on the hard ground, she slowly pulled herself up into a sitting position. 

“Awake again, are we?” Azlyn looked over to see the girl was still examining the creature. 

“How long was I out?” 

The Cultured Conjurer looked over to her. “No more than several minutes. Aha!” She reached up to the creatures back to pluck something from it’s carcass. Azlyn picked herself up still trying to make sense of what had just transpired. 

“The poor creature’s fury was kindled with cruel forethought.” She walked over to show her the dagger. “See this blade? I found it in the goobbue’s back. I have seen knives of this kind before—they are most common for cutting rope.”

Azlyn narrowed her purple eyes, staring at the dagger. “A pirate’s knife.”

She nodded. “It would appear our culprits are seafaring men of some persuasion—piratical being the more probable as you’ve stated.” The Miqo’te then turned to give her a quick look over. “In any event, you seem much recovered from your sudden affliction. I must confess, I was rather taken aback when you collapsed at the very moment of victory.”

The girl shook her head, trying to rid herself of the dream she had. “Strange—I’ve never seen a towering crystal like that before.” She forgot that she had company, and immediately regretted her words the second the conjurer replied. 

“I beg your pardon? A ‘towering crystal’? I’m sure I don’t—Oh.” 

Azlyn widened her eyes as the young lady seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. And that made the Au Ra slightly nervous. Especially since she was a Sharlayan to boot. 

“It’s about time we leave this place.” Azlyn looked to see the now darkened skies outside the grotto.  

Still that didn’t dissuade the Miqo’te from saying, “Well, well—this has been a day of unexpected revelations.” Azlyn turned away from her knowing stare, “I must continue my investigation. In the meantime, I suggest you deliver this knife to your patron, along with a warning concerning the pirate’s probable involvement in this murky business.” She finally gave up on her for the time being. 

Azlyn gave a sigh of relief. She could tell the look in her eye that wanted to press her for more information—but was glad that she didn’t. She handed the knife over to Azlyn, walking out the entrance, but not before giving an insightful warning. 

“The days ahead promise little rest I fear—May our paths cross again under the light of the Crystal.” And she left. 

Azlyn looked down at the knife—and gave an audible groan. She really needed to watch what she said, especially involving the Echo. If Niniya was any indication to trusting the locales, then she should have kept her mouth shut. But she felt relaxed around her. Maybe it was because she had a similar aura to her friends back home? 

It had been five years since she left home—and it wouldn’t be a lie to say she had the sudden urge to go back—but she couldn’t. Not with her meager gold in her pocket. Shaking her head, she went to place the dagger back into her bag. And that’s when she saw it. A dimmed purple crystal laid in the cavern, just several feet away from where she stood. Blinking rapidly, she looked back to where the Miqo’te had left, knowing for a fact that she wouldn’t have missed such an obvious find. 

Carefully, she walked over to it—leaning down to pick it up. 

Once again she was brought to that dark space, she could see a magic circle surrounding her floating form, and watched as a purple light lit up one of the smaller circles. Then the vision vanished. She looked down in her hands, only to see the crystal gone. 

“Perhaps—that’s what Hydaelyn meant by crystal bearer. Through my deeds I will collect more.” She stared down at her hands, wondering if she could even do something about the fate of the world. 

There wasn’t much else she could do in the Grotto, so she made her way back. She could feel the cool breeze on her back, as bits of fabric that tore in battle waved behind her. Luckily it was just up by her upper shoulder. 

When she reached Summerford Farms, she found Staelwryn standing at his post. A lantern had been lit to give the town a warm glow. He widened his eyes at her arrival—seeing her a bit more worn than her first time coming. Azlyn retrieved the knife they found from her bag. 

“My lads were all gabbin’ about hearin’ what sounded like all seven hells breakin’ loose near the grotto, and I feared I’d sent you to your death.” He gave her a look over. “You sure took quite a beatin’ too by the looks of it.”

Azlyn gestured to the knife. “Some pirate decided to stab this into the back of a Goobbue. Managed to rile it up to send it our way in the grotto,” she explained and then handed it to him. 

“Hmmm—I’m startin’ to think that these ruffians are pirates, come to lure my farmhands back to a life of plunder. Chances are, they didn’t take too kindly to your appearance on their doorstep.” He shook his head. “I’d best warn the lads and lasses in my employ to be on guard against their schemes.” 

Azlyn rolled her neck. “There was a Sharlayan Conjurer there as well. A Female Miqo’te, about this tall.” She gestured the girls height with her hand. “She had one of those aetherial goggles on her neck.” 

Staelwryn had to think hard. “You met someone else at the Grotto? A Miqo’te—oh! Y’shtola! She’s been in Limsa Lominsa for a good while now. Her studies of aether often bring her out to Summerford, so her presence at the grotto is hardly unusual.” 

He crossed his arms. “I worry the temptation to return to the free and easy life of a buccaneer may prove to strong to resist. But you have my thanks. If it weren’t for stalwart adventurers like yourself, this farm would be in a far worse state than it is.”

He then produced a bag of gold from his back pocket. He placed the gold into her hands, and pointed down by the entrance. “Go buy yourself a new robe — can’t have ye work with ripped clothes, now can I? I need you to keep lendin’ your talents to those in need—alright? Help bring Limsa the brighter future she deserves.”

Azlyn nodded, looking down the hill to the darkened exterior of Limsa Lominsa and all of her beauty. While it was true there were issues—some involving pirates and deception—she couldn’t help but want to help. In a way, her past vision with Hydaelyn made it crystal clear what she had to do. She’d collect the crystals—she’d help the people—and by doing that much maybe then a crisis could be avoided. 

She walked down to the traveling town merchant—he was setting camp up for the night. Smiling, she approached. “Hi, are you still open for business?”

He nodded, taking in her appearance and ripped clothes. “Looking for some new robes?”

“Yes please, just something comfortable to move in.”

The wait didn’t take long, as he perused his caravan full of merchandise. The campfire crackled with life as he pulled out a simple shirt that would go past her upper thigh. But it would complement her leggings and boots fine. It’s fashion was similar to K’ylhia’s shirt, but black instead of blue.  

She paid the man the gold he was due, and opted to find a place to change. Just before she left the campsite, the man called out to her. “If you like, you can use the wagon. It’s covered, so no one will look.”

It wasn’t like there were facilities nearby for her to change either. So with a bit of chagrin, she accepted the offer. Shortly after that, he too offered her a place to stay for the night, and together they chatted around the fire. Some of the farmers that she helped earlier came by, dropping off gifts of thanks to her. She had plenty of raw fruits and vegetables, and offered some of the food up to the group for a whole potluck meal. 

All in all, it was a rambunctious and fun night. Some of the farmers cheered up, Azlyn got to eat yummy food, and the merchant became really good friends with the people in town. Hopefully that would help spike his business as he’d been struggling for sometime now. 

The morning sun rose in the east, as Azlyn pulled herself up from her sleeping bag. She checked her things, making sure everything was still where she left them. It wasn’t as if she doubted the people, but she didn’t want to get robbed either. She stuck all of her personal stuff she could in her bag with her, so it would have to take an experienced rogue to steal her belongings. 

The merchant bid his goodbye, wanting to make a good head start out to the next town in Middle La Noscea. Meanwhile, Azlyn could hear Staewyrn cursing up on the hill. Wanting to see what was up, she neatly packed her belongings, and strolled her way back up. 

“Good morning Staewyrn, what’s the problem?” She asked, crossing her arms. 

The man groaned in frustration. “That sea-sloth Sevrin and his lot—never around when there’s work to be done!” He looked down at her. “I’d sooner hire you for the sake of gettin’ things done, but then the rapscallions would never learn.” It was then he reached down to grab the sides of her shoulder. He looked her right in the eyes. 

“Round them up and let them know that Staelwryn would like a word—and don’t take ‘No’ for an answer!” He pulled up a bag of coins to prove his point. Azlyn saluted, her motivation for more money won out. 

“I’ll be back.” 

The investigative portion of finding out who Sevrin and his crew was took the majority of the morning, having asked several of the farmhands she could. The actual finding and talking to them took the shortest amount of time. 

She found one guy sitting on some crates. Just her act of walking over to him caused him to be on edge. “So—“ He sneered, she hadn’t even asked for a name yet. “Staelwyrn sent you.” He snorted. “And what do you reckon I say to that?” 

Azlyn sighed, “I don’t know—that you hate working with the farmers?” She guessed, it didn’t take a genius to see that many of the pirates held a grudge for being landlocked as they were. 

The man just grinned, “Damn right! Didn’t get where I am by takin’ guff from any glorified gardeners!” 

It was here where Azlyn tried to reason. “You know Staelwryn isn’t one of those glorified gardeners.”

He stared at her silently, his eyes narrowing trying to refute what she said—but couldn’t. 

He exhaled, “I s’pose I could see what he wants to get him off my back.” 

One down, four to go. She was far from done, but that didn’t go as badly as she anticipated. She thought she was going to have to drag them over one by one. 

Some of the farmers she asked told her she’d be able to find one of the guys “cutting” trees down for firewood. As she went over to the directed area, she found a guy lazing around. He was laying on his back, with his hands behind his head. She walked over until her shadow crossed over to cover his face. 

He opened one eye. “Ughhhh, not you. Out of all the people to send—why you.” He rolled over, hoping to ignore her. She was not deterred, walking over to his other side. She wasn’t going to let him just ignore her. 

“You must be one of the guys I’m supposed to kindly ask. But I suppose I should ask, what are you doing?” She sighed, looking over her shoulder to the axe leaning up against the tree. He obviously hadn’t even swung the thing once that day. 

He noticed her staring at the axe. Slowly getting up from the ground, he rolled his neck. “Back in my day, axes were made for splittin’ skulls, not stumps! You know what I did in my sailin’ days?”

She was hoping it was a rhetorical question, but he seemed intent on waiting for an answer. Azlyn sighed, placing her hand under her chin. “Wanton slaughter.” She didn’t know what he did, but figurin’ he was a pirate pissed off, this was one of the only things she could think of. 

“You bet your bosom I did, lass!” Azlyn didn’t have time to glare at him as he jumped to his feet, a fire now in his belly as he roared out his passion of the good ol’ days. “Aye, those were the days.” He finally sighed, content with his speech. He turned back to her now that he was in better spirits. “I reckon now I’ll have to be satisfied takin’ my axe to the trees. Thanks for the pep talk, lass.” 

She waved goodbye, wondering when she gave him a pep talk. He went over to grab his axe and rush out to go see Staelwryn. Hopefully that was two of the five. 

Moving along, Azlyn found a guy eating an orange. Feeling more confident, she approached him. “I’m told you’re one of the guy’s in Sevrin’s crew?” 

He paused in his bite, before raising an eyebrow at her. “Aye, I’m Sevrin. You the old man’s errand girl now?” 

Azlyn wasn’t expecting to see the head of the crew so soon, and wondered if she might have screwed up. She shrugged, “Gotta get food on the table somehow.” 

Sevrin sighed, he dropped the half eaten orange on the ground as if it lost its appeal of taste. “Tell my dear captain not to wet his britches. I’ll be along.” He started to walk away from her, but before he passed her side, he turned to face her. He leered, “Oh, and just so we’re clear—I don’t care for landlubbers. Go find the chocobo you rode in on, and ride on out.” 

He finally left. She exhaled a shaky breath. That sounded close to a threat, but she couldn’t let that deter her from the remaining two. 

Luckily for her, the other two were more amicable than Sevrin was. One just wanted proper grog, and the other just wanted some decent food. All in all, she was able to wrangle all five of them. 

Staelwryn was waiting for her to climb the hill, and he smiled at her for her effort. “You continue to impress, lass. All but Sevrin are accounted for.” Azlyn sighed, she had a feeling about that one. “It’s no fault of yours he squirmed out. I’ve let that worm wriggle through my fingers more times than I can count.” 

She wondered if comparing him to a worm would help their already deteriorated relationship—but when Staelwryn chuckled darkly, she watched him crack his knuckles one by one. “But rest assured, the next time I see him, I’ll put him squarely in the dirt. Where all such worms belong.”

Azlyn took that opportunity to nod, mostly from shock, and could tell this man was someone who held high regard on the sea—no wonder pirates still held some sense of terror in folks. She left the good bloke to his devices, most of his men back to working with the farmers for now. She too, went over to help out some of the farmers. She did manual labor, hunted down some monsters and creatures encroaching upon their town, helped cut trees, tended to the grounds, delivered goods to a nearby settlement, and spent the rest of her day helping out over there too. 

She spent the night over at the nearby town, they offered her free room and board for all of the work she did for them. The money would have been nice, but a place to sleep was something she couldn’t overlook. She was tucked away in the upper hall of a building, her bed made of hay. Laying down a blanket, she tried to get some sleep. It was still better than sleeping outside in the elements. 

By the time morning came, she bid the town goodbye, after playing with some of the children in the area. She made it back to Summerford Farms to discover Staelwryn in a foul mood. She hesitated before deciding to ask him what pained him. 

“Good morning Staelwryn. What’s got your breeches in a bunch?” 

Her attempted use of the common slang of pirates gave him a wry grin. “Not quite your style, but I appreciate it.” He sighed, “Pains me to say, but all the Gil in the world can’t buy loyalty. There are some, like you, who can be trusted. But then there are others...”

Azlyn knew where he was going with this. “Let me guess—Sevrin and his bunch?” 

He nodded. “Until now, I’ve had no choice but to rely on that charlatan Sevrin, even though I am full aware he’s been doin’ shady deals behind my back. More than once I’ve heard tell of improper tradin’ with goblins.” 

She wondered if there was a small goblin encampment nearby. 

“I wouldn’t be the least surprised if that were happenin’ right now. Not a bell ago, a sack of oranges vanished, as did Sevrin. I want you to find and confront the bastard for me. I’m sure there’s wrongdoing afoot, so be sure to doubt anythin’ that comes out of his mouth.” 

Azlyn nodded, and went to investigate the location of Sevrin. It took a good hour to get a decent lead, finding a recent trail of his tracks on the path circling round the farm. She followed it, until the trail ended with Sevrin standing by a passage. He seemed to be passing around a corner, sweating what looked like bullets. 

She approached, not attempting to hide her presence. He jumped at her appearance, “Blood hells! I’m up the strait without a paddle!” Azlyn doubted his words, narrowing her eyes, and putting her hands on her hips. She was doing her best Krile impression.

“What’s this now? Staelwryn sent you for the oranges? ...So the old bugger had known all this time—“ He scratched his head as if he was truly in trouble. But not for Staelwryn’s concern. Something seemed off, so she attempted to find out what he was staring at. He grabbed her arm to keep her from going out there. “What in blazes are you doing—they’re going to see you. Listen, you’re one o’ those goody-goody adventurer types, right? Go rescue me mates from those double-dealin’ goblins! They’re just yonder by the bonfire.”

He released her, half expecting her to turn the other way. Instead she just pulled out her book and summoned her carbuncle. With a determined expression, he walked out from the cover and immediately started casting spells. She could see the four whom she talked with yesterday, wrapped up in ropes and being held at knife point. Her carbuncle bounced up and tackled down a goblin, bite into their shoulder as it cried out in pain. A few spell casts later, and her carbuncle’s quickness to protect the four with relative ease. 

The rest of the goblin encampment saw that she and her carbuncle had taken down five of their numbers in less than a minute. There must have been eight of them left, but instead of attacking, they just up and ran—yelping as they went. Her carbuncle chased at their heels, making sure they wouldn’t come back for a round two. 

Azlyn rushed over to the four, and quickly undid the ropes. 

“Bless you lass, I’m Eryimhus—Sevrin flew out of here so fast, I was sure he sold us down the river!” 

The others also decided to introduce themselves to her, but she was still concerned about the goblins coming back. 

“Sonia Rarzai is my name! If you hadn’t come, my dodo would’ve been cooked! Mmmm—cooked dodo.”

“I’m Alymer, and I owe you Lass. Would’ve gotten away meself if not fer Sevrin shovin’ me aside.” He helped up Sonia Rarzai who was stuck in a daydream about cooked dodo. She didn’t blame him, the dodo’s out in this range were fairly plump. 

“Wauter.” He pointed to himself. “I’ll buy you a glass of grog when we get back to town.” 

She gestured for them to quickly follow her out from the camp, and they moved with her without any fuss. Azlyn bid them goodbye as soon as she was able to find the main path, and they thanked her for her trouble. 

It wasn’t long before Sevrin appeared. “You saved me mates, and for that I owe you.” Azlyn gave him a sardonic expression. “S’pose I should be ashamed I couldn’t clean up my own mess.”

He pulled out the sack of oranges her had taken earlier that money. “But a pirate knows no shame! I’ve no qualms about goin’ back on my word! I’m only givin’ you this sack ‘cause I like the cut of your jib. Take it to Ossine, an’ send him my regards.” He gave her a two fingered salute, walking down the path following his mates. 

She remembered the name Ossine—as it was the same guy that offered her room and board last night. Taking the bag of oranges, she smiled and worked her way through the land. Her carbuncle had come back, in it’s mouth was a jewel of some kind. She plucked the piece from it’s mouth, and stared at it. Stowing it into her pocket for the time being, she got a bit of pep in her step. 

Azlyn walked up to Ossine with the bag of oranges in her arms. “Delivery!” 

“A delivery from Summerford Farms, and as scheduled? There’s a first time for everything.” Ossine took the oranges from her with a surprised face. He examined the cargo, counting each one. “Well, look at that. Not a single one missing, either! About the only things not here are those bagmen, and I don’t miss them one bit.” 

She smiled. “They aren’t all bad.” 

He shook his head. “You don’t know them as well as we do, lass.” He handed her a bag of gold. “Here’s Staelwryn’s payment in full. With you, I can trust it’ll reach him.” He waited for her to safely stow it into her satchel. 

“Well—I’ll be on my way. Thank you again for last night.” She waved goodbye, and he called out to her retreating form.

“You’re welcome anytime! Come back soon!”

It had been a productive morning, and climbing the hill at Summerford Farms seemed like a walk in the park now. She remembered the first day she came and how winded she was climbing it. Staelwryn waited for her to reach him, pulling out the sack of Gil. 

“Now this is what I was aimin’ for! Looks to be all I was owed, all right. Though, I’d be tellin’ you false if I claimed I had not held out more hope for Sevrin.” He placed the Gil back into his satchel, and crossed his arms. “You know, I was willin’ to overlook the skimmin’ off the top, but to sell us all short in favor of those godsforsaken goblins.” Staelwryn sighed. 

Azlyn smiled, “It’s just a good thing help arrived when it did.” 

At this he nodded. “Indeed it did—but a fair warning for you lass. You’d do well to mind yourself around that two-gil cheat. If he’d leave his own mates for dead, there’s no tellin’ what he’d do to you.” 

“I’ll be mindful, thank you.” She gave him a proper bow, to which he waved her off. It was then that he pulled out some funds to pay her for all of the work she’d done for them the past two days. 

“Rhotwyda might have some more work to be done—if you have time.” Staelwryn suggested. 

She did just that, walking down the hill to find Rhotwyda. It didn’t take long, as she’d gotten along with most of the locals in Middle La Noscea by this point. 

“I need you to obtain some blackloam found in the Cookpot, and take it to good ol’ Pfrewahl in Tiller’s Rest. They’ll be expectin’ you.” Rhotwyda stated, getting used to Azlyn’s methodology of work. “Be wary of the big creatures roaming within there. They’re tusks are no joke.”

“Uh—so will I know what this blackloam looks like?” Azlyn curiously asked, but the woman waved off her concern. 

“You’ll be able to smell it. It’ll look like black mounds, might have bugs swarming around it. You won’t miss it.”

Azlyn set off, heading off to find the Cookpot—on the map it showed it was pretty close to the Seasong Grotto. It didn’t take her much to find it, and the large Aurochs roaming like cattle within. With three prepared sacks for her to fill, and edged her way into the herd of the large elephant looking creatures. They had long thick brown fur, that hung low over their thick legs. And their tusks were long. Rhotwyda wasn’t joking about that. 

She could smell the black stuff even as she walked alongside the wall. Her hand hovered over her book in case one of the aurochs decided to charge her. 

“It’d be a shame if the goody-good adventurer found herself in a sticky position.” Azlyn stopped her trek to look up the wall. Standing above her was a smirking Sevrin, and the four who she rescued yesterday. He was lobbing a rock loftily in his hand. 

“Hey man—Azlyn didn’t do nothin’ wrong. She’s helpin’.” The one who introduced himself as Alymer said. He was darting looks down at her and the herd in that tight wall-formed circle. The only escape was at the mouth of the circle, which had been blocked by a baby Auruch munching on some grass. 

“Shut it. We’re just watchin’.” Sevrin replied with that same shite-eating grin on his face. She really wanted to slap it off of him. 

She turned her attention back on her task. She had a feeling he was just hazing her—just tryin’ to goad her to over-react. He probably got a good earful from Staelwyrn about selling out his guys to the goblins. This was probably his way of payback. 

Itching her way closer to the black stuff piled up in the back of that enclosed pasture, she wrapped a handkerchief over her nose to prevent the fumes from overwhelming her—but it didn’t help. She filled three bags with a small hand shovel, thinking back to how terrible the auraliae umbrellas smelled. Well, she might have found its match. 

She had a good idea about what this was too—it didn’t even take a genius to figure it out—but that wasn’t her job. Her job was to gather it, and deliver it. Even when one of the five doofus’s above were laughing at her. The other four were keeping an eye on the cattle, and on Sevrin who still played with his rock. 

She used her forearm to wipe the sweat from her forehead, and then started to bring the sacks one by one as close as she could to the entrance. She managed to get two of them to safety, and then walked her way back in. It was then that she witnessed Sevrin was arguing with Eryimhus. 

She could hear Eryimhus above, “Quit it with that damn rock Sevrin—you tryin’ to start some shite back like you did them goblins?”

Sevrin shouted back, “Like I told you gits before, it was an accident.” 

She grabbed the third bag, shaking her head at the stupidity of it all. Why remain buddies even when you get betrayed? She would never know. 

It was then that the true scuffle above started, and Azlyn froze. The yelling startled the herd of Aurochs, causing a bit of them to get riled up. The largest of the pack, looked squarely at her—determining her to be the threat. 

“Shit.” She dropped the bag and started to pull out her book. She must have casted her carbuncle out in such a quick hand flick, she worried the spell would have bounded back to her due to her haphazard shorthand. 

The medium-large beasts nearby also started to roar, slamming their feet on the ground. Azlyn felt the tremble of the ground, trying her best to keep her footing. She lifted her book up, hoping to blind several of the Aurochs long enough to get the hell out of there. 

Her carbuncle was acting like an intermediary herding dog, the ones she saw back home with the cattle and sheep. 

But that left her with several of the medium and the largest one to contend it. She saw the largest start to charge, and in the same instant the second Auroch cornering her lifted up it’s front legs to slam them back down. Azlyn was stunned, her knees buckling from the sheer presence of this beast. And the tusk of the largest creature charged at her. If she didn’t move now, she was going to get gored. 

Gritting her teeth, she lifted her book up to flash out a quick Ruin spell, and watched the spell fizzle in it’s face. It still didn’t deter her from attempting to shift to the right. As she did, she saw how close the tusk had been, as it slammed right into the wall behind her and rocking the wall. And she knew she was in trouble. 

For her book had been the thing she abandoned in order to save her own skin. It’s pages torn, the spine ruined as it had been smashed against the wall with the tusk driven into it’s center. 

Now she was screwed. 

She watched her carbuncle start to dissipate, now leaving her with the entire Auroch herd to contend with. The walls were too high to climb, and she was by herself—unless she counted the fools up above who started this debacle. 

“Holy shit—mate look what happened—shit—shit.” Alymer was shaking one of his mates. Sevrin was backing away from the gorge, probably debating whether to run away again or not. 

The calmest one, the one who wanted a proper drink, reached over to his one friend who had an axe, and lifted it from him. At the sudden removal of his own weapon, he seemed perplexed by what he was doing—that was until he chucked it into the open ravine for Azlyn. 

“Get out of there!” He shouted down to her, a bit of worry. 

The Auroch was still struggling to get it’s tusk out from the wall, and she wasn’t going to wait for the other two to start lowering their heads to gore her too. She spied the axe, about ten feet away, and so she did the only thing she could—she made a mad dash to it. 

And she raised it up in defense. The largest one escaped as it removed it’s tusk from the wall—it decided to leave for the time being with several other medium sized ones, but Azlyn had to pick off the remaining ones that rampaged around her. 

It took sometime—and it was a damn shame—since she’d gone in there to retrieve manure of all things—only to have to slaughter a good chunk of them before walking out from there with a bloody axe, clothes marooned from Auroch blood, the bags of manure, and her completely ruined book. The idiots had run to her, all horrified at her appearance, as she handed the axe back to it’s owner and proceeded to pick up the bags of stuff in silence. 

In that moment, some of them helped her. She didn’t thank them, she didn’t say one word to them, as they walked silently to Tiller’s Rest. She delivered the goods to Pfrewahl, who was horrified at her arrival. Most of the small village had stopped what they were doing to stare at her. White hair, bloodied. Her clothes, darkened thick with blood. There were splattered marks of blood on her cheek as she collected her gold and quit the place. Her tattered book still under her arm. 

When she made her way out from the village, she could hear the four guys sing her praises on how she took an entire Auroch herd rampaging to her down. And she was still compassionate enough to leave several of them alive as they ran from the pasture. 

For a time they’d have plenty of meat, but Azlyn did not want any of it. All she wanted was a long shower and bath—and a surefire way to prevent Sevrin from killing her before her work was done.