The weather had soured on us by the time everything was set and we were ready to go through with our hunt. The sky was a dull grey and a damp chill clung to the air. After hours of trudging through the forest I was soaked to the bone from the unrelenting drizzle and none too happy about it. We were crouched on a low rise that ran in a semi circle around a damp gully. The ridge was heavy with brush and birch saplings while below was mostly moss and stagnant water. I shook my head. All this wet was not good for my bow.

"You know what?" Herschel said with a dark laugh. "If these things get pissed enough, we'll all be warm and dry soon."

"Right." I knocked an arrow and squinted down at the clearing below. "And we'll be good and crispy too."

"You sure this is going to work?"

"I don't see why not."

Herschel gestured down to the clearing below us. "Not that I'm doubting you but I don't see any Drakes down there."

"Just wait."

"Did we use the wrong bait?"

I shook my head. "I've never known a drake to pass up fresh meat like that." The village was prohibited from hunting deer, but I wasn't. Thanks to that handy loophole, a fresh carcass was strung up as bait. The leaves across from us rustled. "Here we go."

Herschel loaded his crossbow and leaned forward, squinting, shoulders tense, hands holding the weapon in a white knuckled grip.

The beast skulking in the underbrush let out a low growl and a column of steam rose from the bushes. Roaring, the Drake leapt from the underbrush and dug its claws into the deer carcass. The Drake was the size of a horse and thick cords of muscle rippled under its scaly hide. It's back and its joints were covered in heavy, bony plates and a crest of vibrant orange spines crested the top of its head. I stood and drew the bowstring back letting out a breath and steadying my aim. I released the string and the bow sang out with a sharp twang. The arrow leapt down into the clearing and slapped off the Drakes forehead with a hard snap. A volley of crossbow bolts answered it. Sharp points rolled off the monsters back like water off a duck's back and it let go of the deer, screaming in fury.

An answering cry rang out from our side of the clearing and the other half of our force rushed forward with spears, harrying the rear of the beast. I pulled back another arrow and let fly. This one found its mark sinking into the meat between the Drake's neck and shoulder. It's stomach heaved and a dribble of liquid spilled down from the corner of it's jaws. The drool caught fire and pooled in the wet leaves below. Steam hissed and smoke curled into the air.

"He's going to bust," I shouted. "Keep him focused here."

The Drake made a throaty wet sound that was somewhere between a belch and a roar and a jet of burning gel spewed through it's open maw.

I ducked behind a tree trunk, suddenly thankful I was surrounded by damp bark and wet moss. The heat was blistering and part of me, the reasonable part, I'm sure, wanted nothing more than to throw myself to the ground and wait for the monster to go away. That part wasn't in control right now. I drew the bow again and stepped out from cover. The spearmen were making progress and the beast was bleeding from several small cuts. One spear had struck true and three farm hands were wrenching on it, holding the Drakes leg in place. Another spear bit deep into its hamstring. It was pinned now. It was time to deal the killing blow. The drake met my eyes and I saw nothing but hatred there. It tilted its head, redirecting the stream of burning bile. I loosed the arrow. The shaft parted the stream of fire and the arrow buried itself in the soft flesh on the roof of its mouth. The stream of flame slowed to a trickle and the Drake fell.

A cheer rang up from the clearing. I wanted to be excited, really I did. This was maybe the first actual Ranger - ish thing I'd ever done in my life. It deserved to be celebrated, but I couldn't shake the anxious tingle on the back of my neck, the flutter in my heart or the sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt just like I did when I knew Hawk was staring at me from across the room and was about to yell at me for being stupid.

I felt like I was being watched.

Slowly, I turned around and came face to face with a pair of burning red eyes and a maw full of fangs.

"You clever bitch," I said, putting another arrow on the bow string. Hawk's voice rang in my ears: don't draw quickly, draw smoothly. I'd been shooting without instructions since I was seven but I could still hear her guiding me every time I took a shot. I drew like I always did, slowly, deliberately, flowing like water. This time I knew it wouldn't be enough. The Drake tensed, muscle rippling along its sides and legs. I loosed the arrow. It jumped. A strangled scream slipped past my lips as I was buried in an avalanche of scales and claws. A sledgehammer of blinding white pain slammed into my chest and my stomach roiled as my feet came out from under me and for a brief moment I left gravity's embrace behind. A crash of thunder rang in my ears. My whole word was pain. A disemboweling claw raked at my stomach and skittered off the interlocking plates of my brigandine. My body moved of its own accord. It had to. Surely, my brains were dashed all over the forest floor by now. My bow was long gone. The Drake was too close to get to my sword. That just left me with my poor, pitiful pocket knife. It would have to do. The beast savaged me with another raking blow from its claws and I jammed the point of the knife into its armpit. It kept clawing. I kept forcing the blade through its flesh. The monster's outer scales finally gave way and the blade sank to the hilt in the softer flesh beneath. I yelped and jerked my hand away as a stream of scalding hot gore ran down the back of my knuckles.

It pulled back, giving me enough room to worm my way to freedom. I wriggled loose and rolled to my hands and knees, crawling away from the Gods damned horror behind me. Someone was shouting down into the clearing. They were looking for someone named Beryl. I hoped that they found whoever that was.

The voice finally gave up and tried something else. "Parsnip!" It shouted. "Look out!"

That cut through the fog in my mind. I stood, and drew my sword in one motion. Leaves crunched behind me. I spun on my heel and threw a wild, unaimed chop. The blade thunked into something solid and the hot copper stench of blood filled the air.

I wrenched the blade free and things snapped back into focus. The Drake was on me again, rearing up to strike down at me with its claws. I sidestepped and brought the sword down again, catching the beast on the wrist as it slashed. The farmers filled the gap I'd occupied a heartbeat before with spear points. One thrust caught it under the chin and it started to fall, boiling blood running down the spear's shaft. As a last defense, the Drake spat a cloud of flaming bile. The farmers ran back, letting go of the spear jammed into the monster's neck.. Idiot that I was, I ran forward, wincing as a droplet of burning goo landed on my cheek. I wiped the flaming snot away with one hand and grabbed the spear, forcing up with all my might. The spear bit as deeply as it was able and the monster fell, its dying breath rattling in its chest.

I hauled the spear out and fell to my knees, more tired than I'd ever felt before in my life. "Well fought," I said, putting one hand on the Drake's forehead. "Well fought."

A sea of cheers and laughter churned around me, swelling into a joyous storm and leaving me a stone spar of melancholy, kneeling there as the waves broke over me. The monster had been horrible, there was no questioning that, but it had been as awe inspiring and as wonderful as it had been terrifying and dangerous. Had been. Now, it was nothing. Just meat for the crows on the forest floor.

Herschel cut through the crowd like a ship cleaving through a wave. "Give her some room," he bellowed. He knelt next to me. "Parsnip." His voice was low, and soft, as gentle and comforting as a warm blanket in the dead of winter. "Are you okay?"

I poked at my ribs. They were sore but didn't feel broken. "I think I'm in one piece. I just need a minute."

Herschel cleared the crowd and left me alone with the corpse. I inched closer and my thoughts drifted back to the old farmer who I had met on the road days before. The Drake Stones would help him keep the nobles from seizing his crops. The meat would keep his family fed. In death, both monsters would help many more people survive. "Thank you," I said, patting the Drakes armoured skull. "You've paid the ultimate price but I promise it was worth it."

I stood feeling like a real Ranger for the first time in my life and Hawk's voice rang in my ears once again. Respect the beast. Honour the kill. I bowed to the dead Drakes and climbed back up the short ridge ringing the clearing. My bow had to be here somewhere. As I searched through the moss and mud, a thousand pains made themselves known one by one. The thrill of the hunt was gone and all that was left was the slow realization that I was hurt worse than I thought, that I was freezing, and that I would tear the moon out of the sky just to get a hot meal.

If a hot meal was worth tearing the moon down, then I'd fight the ancient Titans themselves for my damn bow. Where in all the hells was it?

A voice snaked out from beneath the trees, breathy and hissing. If serpents could talk, this was what they sounded like. "Looking for this?"

A tall and willowy figure slipped out of the underbrush, moving with the liquid grace of a wildcat stalking its prey. They were dressed in robes a blue so dark they were nearly black and the fabric was studded with pinpoints of silver thread that seemed to glow. It was like they had taken the midnight sky and draped it around themselves. A hood kept their features in deep shadow but their eyes blazed with violet light. The air seemed colder around the figure and a thin trace of the sick smell of rotten meat hung about them, nearly too faint to detect but there all the same.

I took a step back. Whoever this nightmare person was, they could keep my bow and do whatever they damn well pleased with it.

"Wait," they said.

I froze. My legs stopped listening to me. My whole body locked in place and every muscle tensed holding me there rock solid.

The mystery person reached out and pushed the bow into my frozen fingers. "Take it. These are dangerous woods. I'm sure you'll need it."

It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command. A lightning strike of fear lanced up my spine and my knees turned to jelly. I wanted to run. I wanted to scream. I wanted to draw my sword and hack this ... creature apart. I couldn't do any of that. I had to sit and stare into those blazing eyes. I couldn't move until they let me. A rage hot enough to melt steel bloomed in my chest, radiating out through my entire body. My sword arm twitched. The wizard took a step back.

A sharp pressure pushed in behind my eyes and all of my muscles locked up tight. I couldn't move now no matter how hard I fought.

"Don't you wish people could get along like this all the time?" asked the Wizard. "United in a common goal, and working towards a common good brings out the best in us."

I wanted to scream but I couldn't.

He waved vaguely in my direction and the tension eased out of my jaw.

"Let me go, you bastard!" I shouted.

"See, this is what I'm talking about. You're standing there, looking at the chance to join something great, and instead you only care about your own gods damned wants."

I fought against the spell. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead. "I'm sorry I'm none too happy about some creepy old prick jumping out of the woods and putting a spell on me. Too scared to have a fair fight, are you?"

The wizard laughed. It was a dry and brittle sound like thin bones snapping. "You don't think I can feel how terrified you really are? You can drop the act, Beryl. Besides, you wouldn't stand a chance." He paused for a moment. "I think you should give me a chance. Let me show you what one village can accomplish when we strip away the frivolous parts of the mind, wants, passions, friends, family, and we replace that duty, with the drive to build something greater. That's what the Guild stands for isn't it? Sacrifice all that you are to become something more?"

"I think we have very different ideas about the Guild."

"I'm not so sure." He turned his head to the clearing below us. "I think that's my cue to leave."

Someone in the clearing cried out. A crossbow snapped. A sharp pop echoed through the mist and a swirl of black smoke and stinging grit blew into my eyes. Cursing, I staggered back, wiping the dirt away. I blinked the tears from my eyes and found that I was alone. The wizard was gone. It was high time we hauled ass out of this forest and I wasn't the only one who thought so. The villagers laboured as quick as they could to drag the carcasses back to the road. I put an arrow to my bow string and walked backwards behind them, eyes darting to every shadow lurking in the murky half light between the trees. My heart hammered in my ears. No matter how fast we moved it wasn't fast enough and dragging the Drakes back to the road took an eternity. With trembling hands we heaved the bodies into an ox drawn cart and headed for town as quick as we were able.

If I never saw this place again it would be too soon.

A slithering oily voice crawled into my mind. "Oh we haven't seen the last of each other yet."

I searched frantically for the source of the voice.

"It's quite a feat to take down a Drake," the voice continued. "Doubly impressive that a pack of half armed peasants managed it. Yes, I think we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. I have big plans for these people."

The voice fled my mind and I was drenched in a cold sweat. I needed a hot bath. Maybe a hundred hot baths. My skin felt like it was coated in greasy bile and that wall of dread in my mind was taller than ever. I didn't know what this wizard was planning, but I knew it would take more than me to stop them.

I needed a real hero.

I needed the Guild.