Upon entering the workshop, Daryl had discovered that the crashing noise he heard earlier was the sound of one of the tables being split in half and standing over it with his trademark grin, filled with crooked, greenish teeth, was the indisputable source of the bellowing laughter everyone heard from outside. There was a crowd of men keeping their distance behind him, spectating the scene with a mixture of terror and curiosity. He was the only man Daryl had ever met at his adult height who towered over him. This man was well over seven feet tall, rippling muscles throughout his bare arms and box-like pecs across his exposed, hairy chest. He wore black leather pants under a tiger skin throw that was draped over his waist, the end of it just above his ankles. His turn shoes seemed to struggle concealing his huge, brick-like feet, a noticeable hole at the end of one of them revealing his big toe. The toenail was curled over and a dingy yellow color. His bald head was only about half an inch away from touching the ceiling, and it was a wonder that he was even able to get through the door of the building. The hilt of an unbelievably large sword, large enough to stretch across the man's back and just past his bottom, was visible behind his shoulder. The giant's attention was turned to towards a groggy Liam sitting on the floor. He had a smirk on his face, his head rocking back and forth, as if he was unable to keep it straight. It did not look like he got hurt at all, yet he seemed completely out of commission. Grace was kneeling at his side and holding his arm, her intense gaze fixated on the beast before them. Liam's staff was on the floor next to them.

The man's chest shook with a soft chuckle at their disposition. "Adorable!" he roared, the last thing anyone expected to hear out of him first. "Pullin' him outta my way like that. What is he, ya boyfriend?"

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but then Daryl interjected with, "He's our ally, Garrison!"

His head whipped towards Daryl, that grin still on his face, and his eyes, one black, and one dark brown, filled with a lust for blood. Tattooed around his facial features was the guild's symbol, the snake adding even more menace to his gruesome countenance. Any other man would have cowered away receiving such a menacing look, but Daryl the Dauntless stood his ground, tightly grasping his sword, ready for anything.

Grace and Liam looked at Daryl, a delirious smile spread across Liam's flushed red face. He waved in a ditzy manner to the swordsman, calling, "Oh hey, Daryl! Ya missed it! That freak almost killed me!"

"Quiet!" Grace hissed, putting a hand over his mouth.

"Crow!" Garrison called Daryl, the room getting filled with the mass of swordsmen that had come up the stairs behind Daryl. "I shoulda known you'd be behind this," the giant continued, basking in the starstruck faces of his new audience. "Bringin' in some redhead outsider. It was you, wasn't it?"

"It was," Daryl confirmed, "Rod agreed to ally with his guild, and you're going to have to get used to it, whether you like it or not!" After mentioning Rod, Daryl started looking around to see if he could find Rod amongst the crowd behind Garrison. Failing to find him, he looked toward his quarters. Is he actually sleeping right now?

"Stupid crow!" the beast bellowed. "I shoulda killed ya when I had the chance. Now there you are talkin' to me like ya better than me." He beat his chest with pride and shook his head. "Ain't nobody better than me!"

"You just want a fight," Daryl stated, taking out his sword and holding it at his side. "We can take it outside, then. You just leave them out of it!"

Garrison chuckled, reaching behind his back for his own sword. He pulled it out in front of him effortlessly, made of thick, black steel and shaped like a triangle. "A rematch, eh? Sounds good."

Mallory had pushed her way through the crowd and made her way to the front, seeing Grace and Liam against the wall on the floor, steering clear of the largest, most horrifying man she had ever seen. A part of her wondered if what she saw was even human. After he had considered Daryl's offer for a fight, Mallory noticed his attention shift back to Liam, who she had noticed was acting very strange, mumbling things through Grace's hold over his mouth.

"I'll fight ya, crow..." the beast sneered, not taking his insatiable eyes off of Liam. His grin grew even wider, he leaned his upper body forward, and started bounding towards the air-headed Liam at a shocking speed for his size with his sword raised. "Right after I squash this bug!"

Grace took her hand off of Liam's mouth and placed it on the hilt of her barely visible weapon. She gritted her teeth, a fierce look she rarely ever made. She could not move with Liam like she was able to earlier, because of the kneeling position she was in, but she thought she could at least take a jab at him with her sword. Granted her position, however, she probably would not be able to get enough speed to pierce him, but she had to try anyway.

"Stop!" Daryl yelled, lunging toward the ogre, but he was too far away at that point to reach him, and he had not reacted fast enough.

The adrenaline Mallory was feeling had spiked to an all-time high, something she had not felt since she smashed that apple in Bruce's face. Before she knew it, she had leapt toward a piece of broken wood that came from the table the monster had destroyed, and she threw it at him with everything she had. "Leave him alone!" Mallory screamed, her voice cutting through the air with its high pitch, a sharp contrast to the bass of Garrison's. The wood sailed through the air at a notable speed, hitting its target on the back of his head. The giant flinched slightly and became perfectly still.

Daryl had stopped dead in his tracks seeing his apprentice move the way she did, surprised that she was even there in the first place. He shot a glare back at the crowd, meeting eyes with Jeremy standing in the back. Jeremy reacted with a frightened shrug.

Grace's scowl vanished upon hearing the voice. She looked behind Garrison to see Mallory with balled fists and breathing heavily. Her eyes widened, her heart beating strongly against her chest. No, what is she doing?

Liam giggled at the sight of the beast stopping his rush to turn around and see which one of his spectators had a death wish. The corners of his mouth had lowered, teeth still bare, his expression turning into a ferocious glower. The man was so tall, he had to lower his chin all the way down to his chest just to meet eyes with the perpetrator, who was an ant in comparison. "You there..." he hissed, lowering his sword to his side and straightening his back, "who do ya think you are?"

Mallory trembled with fear, the reality of the situation started to sink in, and her burst of adrenaline running out. She unclenched her fists and stepped back a little.

Garrison examined her, and his frown grew deeper. "Brown...a brown girl!" His voice boomed so loudly that the whole building seemed to shake. "We had one woman, we had one colored, and now this?" He gestured with his free arm to Liam. "We ain't even one guild anymore!"

"Yeah, isn't it great?" Liam cooed dreamily.

"Shut up, dummy!" Grace whispered, taking the opportunity to stand up in the midst of Garrison's diverted attention.

Garrison kept his attention on Mallory, luckily not seeming to hear Liam's remark, and began to walk towards her. Daryl tried to run in front of her, but Garrison quickly jerked his sword to Daryl's throat, keeping him in his place. His eyes shifted to Daryl's, and he started, "Let me guess: this little rat is yours, too."

Daryl clenched his teeth, unsure of what to do next, knowing full well if he tried anything else, Garrison would likely decapitate him without hesitation.

Garrison grunted, taking Daryl's silence as a confirmation. "Y'know what, crow? Maybe I'll lighten up for the redhead over there. Maybe. But this one?" Keeping his sword pointed at Daryl, he raised his boulder of a fist in the air and began to thrust it downwards at Mallory. "This one's gotta die!"

"Don't!" Daryl shouted, bending his knees to try and make a leap towards Mallory and take the punch for her.

Petrified, Mallory watched as his fist came down towards her, thinking that that was how she would die.

Before either Daryl or Mallory could react to Garrison's attack, Grace had made her way between Mallory and the giant with speed like lightning, and she had drawn out a needle-like sword from her boot. Whipping her whole body around, she pierced the blade through the palm of Garrison's hand, making its way through the back of it.

With the deceptively sharp blade protruding out of his hand, his fist opened, and he reeled back in pain, hollering out.

Daryl was so focused on making sure Garrison did not hurt Mallory, he completely missed that Grace was able to get back on her feet. Seeing her push her sword deeper into Garrison's hand as he stepped backwards, Daryl knew that Grace could take it from there. At that point, Daryl sheathed his sword and pulled Mallory away.

Garrison growled upon seeing Daryl getting away with his apprentice, and called, "Where do ya think you're—" Before he could finish, Grace yanked the blade out of his hand, blood spurting on his chest and on the floor. He screamed again, dropping his gigantic sword and grabbing his hand, bringing it to his chest. Wincing at his wound, fingers twitching, he bared his twisted teeth at the swordswoman, and started towards her. "Little wench! I'll—"

After he took his first step, Grace quickly pointed her weapon at the front of his pants, immediately stopping him in his path. He gazed down at the weapon with wide eyes, daring not to make any sudden movements, and then he looked back at the woman. She was standing on the tips of her toes, her upper body turned so that it was perpendicular to Garrison's. Then, with her signature, ear to ear smile, she warned, "Take another step towards me or my friends over there, and you're really not gonna like where I stick ya next!"

There was an audible murmur among the crowds on either side of the room. The men were visibly impressed with Grace's performance, swordsmen and handlers alike.

Daryl nodded respectfully, a silent gesture of gratitude for keeping the monster at bay.

Mallory's eyes got really big, feeling Daryl's grip on her forearm tighten and gazing at the woman who saved her. Despite the difference in size, Grace had become the center of attention with her haughty stance and smug grin. She's amazing...

A proud grin spread across Jeremy's face, and he cheered in a whisper, "Alright, Grace!"

"Who is she?" a younger man standing next to Jeremy asked.

Jeremy looked down at the man who seemed to be new to the guild. "She's Grace the Gleeful," he answered, looking around and realizing how much Grace could benefit from this situation. He nudged the young man and said, "Spread the word!"

He nodded back to Jeremy and started telling people around him who she was. Jeremy joined him in whispering her name to other people, and soon enough, the lot of them was saying her name.

Grace glanced back at the audience but made sure to stay focused on the tower of a man before her, uncertain of whether or not he would still be willing to retaliate.

"Woohoo!" Liam cheered, still sitting on the floor, trying to stay upright. "Yeah, Grace! Show him who's—" He interrupted himself, shoving a hand on his mouth. He let go and ducked his head to vomit on the floor next to his leg. The brown fluid reeked of booze and gastric acid. His upper body fell backwards against the wall, and he passed out with his mouth wide open. He almost looked dead.

Daryl scrunched up his nose at the unconscious sorcerer. How much did he have to drink, anyway?

Grace grimaced at the puke on the floor. I'm gonna have to clean that up, aren't I?

"Don't you dare mock me!" Garrison roared, still clutching his injured hand against his chest. "I ain't dead yet!"

"What's all this racket...?" a weary voice called out, walking out of the room behind Grace. Her father came out, rubbing his eyes and yawning. He smacked his lips for a moment, and then opened his eyes to find his daughter pointing her sword at his strongest swordsman, the rest of the room fuller than he had seen it in years. "Uh, Grace?"

"Yeah?" she asked, keeping her eyes on the giant.

Rod glanced at Grace's sword and her stance, and then at her target. "Why are you pointing a sword at my greatest swordsman's manhood?"

"Why? Because this maniac just tried to kill Liam, and then Mallory!"

Rod looked at Garrison, blood continuing to spurt out of the hole in his hand. He observed the table that had been crushed and knew that Garrison was one of the only people in his guild capable of doing that. Rod sighed and marched up to the man. "Garrison," he started, "I thought I told you to behave yourself!"

"But sir," Garrison whined, looking down at the slightly hunched over man who tried his best to square up to him, "these pests don't belong here! I was just gettin' rid of 'em for ya!"

"These 'pests,'" Rod started, taking note of the passed-out Liam behind Garrison, "are my swordsmen and allies. Ya can't just kill people as you please!"

"C'mon!" Garrison continued to whine. "Ya really gonna let the guild—"

"Get stronger?" Rod interrupted. "Yes, yes I am."

"But—"

"Nope! I've heard enough outta you. Now go outside and cool off. Go get that wound treated if ya have to."

Seeing Rod scold the oaf was fairly amusing for the spectators. A chuckle began to spread throughout both sides of the crowd.

Garrison shot the audience a horrifying glare, to which everyone ceased their laughter, the ravenous look in his eyes fading into a sad anger. With a sigh, he picked up his sword and slid it back into the scabbard on his back, his wounded hand still clutched to his chest. "Yes, sir," he said solemnly, like a child being told to go to his room. As he started to walk out, the crowd immediately dispersed to give him a clear path. When he opened the door, he had to crouch down just to get through it. Upon his exit, there were a few screams heard outside, probably from bystanders that were not expecting to see the beast.

Grace slipped her sword back into her boot and marched up to the open door, closing it quickly and replacing the lock. With a sigh of relief, she turned around to see the crowd of men smiling at her, one thing she was certainly not used to. Her eyes widened with surprise, looking around and starting to wonder if she was the one that they were really smiling at.

"It's Grace the Gleeful, everyone!" she heard a familiar voice call out from the back of the room. She looked to see Jeremy, the man who tried to take her out about a month ago. A grin spread across his face, and he started to clap. "Grace the Gleeful, a victor against Garrison the Gargantuan!"

The room started to light up with applause and a chanting of Grace's name. Grace beamed in response, pushing her hair behind her ears and a blush spreading across her cheeks.

Rod looked around at plenty of men who once hated the idea of women being a part of the guild. There were a select few men who chose not to cheer, but many were applauding for his daughter, chanting her name. He recalled what he told her about a month ago, saying that she had to figure out a way to make a better name for herself, and looking around in that moment, it seemed that she achieved that goal. The old man looked at his only child, his only apprentice with a closed smile and tremendous pride, and his eyes started to get misty. She made eye contact with him, and she felt tears start to form in her own eyes.

During the uproar, Daryl looked down at his apprentice and jerked her arm harshly. She looked up at him with a start, and he met her gaze with a threatening glare. He started making his way back through the crowd, towards the training grounds, with his apprentice in his grasp. When he got to the back of the group to see Jeremy, he grabbed him by his arm, too, to which Jeremy gave him a bewildered look.

Jeremy started with, "What are you—"

Daryl shot him a seething scowl, causing him to stop himself mid-sentence. Jeremy's eyes widened and he gulped hard. He dragged both of them out through the double doors and onto the platform. He let go of them and pushed the doors closed to make sure they were out of earshot, and then he turned around to face them with balled fists at his sides. "So," Daryl started, tightening his jaw as if he were about to explode, "would either of you like to give me any excuses?"

Jeremy's mouth fell open, his eyes shifting around nervously. "I...uh, tried...to stop her—"

The young man's attempt at an excuse was met with a backhand smack across his face from Daryl, the sound of skin on skin contact making a loud clapping noise on impact. Mallory jumped back with astonishment. The force of Daryl's strike sent Jeremy towards the railing at his side, catching himself from falling off by grabbing the railing. He groaned with pain, leaning over and rubbing his jaw. Mallory wanted to ask if he was alright, but given Daryl's terrifying state, she figured it would be best if she kept her mouth shut.

"You must be very pleased with yourself," Daryl continued, "letting her come up here, getting to see a show."

Jeremy straightened himself out, still rubbing his face, which started to glow red on one side. He opened his mouth to sputter, "Sorry...I'm sorry."

Daryl tilted his head toward the double doors. "Go on then," he continued, "they're enjoying themselves. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Jeremy's eyes shifted towards Mallory for a moment, and then back at Daryl. He figured he would not get anywhere trying to argue with the swordsman, so he walked past him and went back inside the workshop. Daryl pushed the doors closed before Jeremy could get himself all the way in, practically pushing the man inside with the doors themselves.

Daryl turned back around to his apprentice slowly, looking absolutely furious. He did not say anything, he just shot daggers at her, as if he was waiting for her to say something.

"I..." Mallory started, "I'm sorry, Master. I should've listened to you."

"Do you even realize what you've done?" Daryl asked, unmoved by her apology.

Her eyes shifted around, looking down at the platform they stood on.

"That man," he continued, "was Garrison the Gargantuan, the top ranked swordsman of this guild! He's killed more people than anyone else who's ever been in this guild, that's thousands of people! Is this making any sense to you, girl? You just made an enemy of one of the most dangerous men alive, Mallory!"

Mallory started breathing heavier, fighting back tears and refusing to look at Daryl. "I just...I wanted to help, too. I'm sorry, Master."

Daryl exhaled loudly. I know you wanted to help. In a way, I'm glad you did. Grace is finally getting the recognition she deserves, and you stopped Garrison from hurting Liam. Still, you disobeyed me... "It doesn't matter what you wanted. Remember what I told you would happen if you disobeyed me?"

Consequences... Mallory slowly looked up at her master, expecting the worst.

Daryl grabbed her elbow and started bringing her down the stairs. It was dark out, but the moonlight reflecting off of the water made the area visible. The girl was still worried about falling, though, especially since the swordsman was practically dragging her down the steps with disciplinary intent. Once they made it past the stairs, Daryl led her to the gate they had gone through earlier. He marched past the area where Mallory had tried to cut through the log, and he opened up the second gate. This area was relatively barren compared to the others, but there were five wooden hatches on the ground. Daryl led her to the one that was closest to the shoreline, and he let go of her to kneel down in front of the hatch, which was big enough for him to go through. He dug around in his robe to pull out a key, and he inserted it into a keyhole in the bottom right corner of the hatch. There was a click, and he replaced his key and lifted the hatch so that it was upright. Daryl stood back up and motioned for Mallory to come forward. She obeyed and looked inside the hatch. It was like a shallow cellar, there was a ladder attached to the opposite end of where they stood. From what Mallory could tell in the dark, the space seemed to be filled with loose tokens on one side, a treasure trove of wealth that Mallory never would have guessed she would see with her own eyes.

"This is my storage hideout," Daryl explained. "Since you couldn't behave yourself today, you'll be spending the night here."

Mallory gasped quietly, shooting Daryl a look of disbelief.

"What's the matter?" Daryl mocked. "Gotten yourself used to the comfort of a warm bed? That's too bad, now get inside."

The girl breathed out, examining the hideout further. The floor looked to be made of hardwood, and there was not a lot of space. Most of the room was consumed by the piles of money Daryl had stashed in there. Fearing that Daryl would push her in if she kept standing there, she walked over to the side with the ladder and started making her way down into the hideout. Daryl made sure she got to the bottom safely, and he walked over to place his hand on the top of the hatch.

Before he closed it, he ended her night with, "And if you thought today's training was hard, don't expect it to get any easier." With that, he slammed the hatch closed and kneeled down towards the keyhole. He pulled out his key and locked her in. He stood back up and put his key back where he found it. Before he could get back to the gate, he stopped to look back, doubting himself. Is this too cruel...?The swordsman pondered his actions for a moment, and then left the area to go back to the workshop. No, I didn't hurt her. It's just a punishment. She probably knew it was coming anyway, she just didn't know what it would be. Mallory's a tough girl. She'll be fine.

***