Aspinara was a medium-sized market town, sheltering under the imposing shadows of the Dorilden Mountains. The large town hall, built from the same slabs of locally mined sandstone as the rest of the town, dominated the townscape, and provided one bounding wall for the market square, now packed with canvas stalls and traders, eager to sell their wares to anyone with the money to pay. Almost anything could be bought here, from weapons to animal feed.

It was the former that Larieth and Wyldfyre spent the early part of the morning trading in, offering for sale the weapons they had acquired the previous night, as well as a few other trinkets that had been acquired in a similar way since they had left the last town they had visited.

Larieth had indeed been right, quickly acquiring interest in the slightly rusted and poorly maintained weapons from a local blacksmith, who though he could do a fine job polishing them. After a spot of haggling, which Wyldfyre always enjoyed watching, a price was agreed at five silver pieces and the name of a good tavern in the area. A fair price, Wyldfyre thought.

The rest of the morning was spent wandering the stalls of the market, enjoying the flavour of the town and picking up some supplies for the journey to the next town. Food was never really a problem for the two travellers, they could easily sustain themselves through hunting for their own meals, and Larieth had a well developed sense of which plants and berries could and could not be eaten, some of which Wyldfyre had learned through the years. Oil for their lanterns, however, was more of a problem, and Wyldfyre's boots had needed some attention to repair them after the wear they had seen through their months of wandering.

**********

Eventually, sometime in the early afternoon, it was agreed that they should find the tavern that the local blacksmith had recommended. He had been true to his word, and the tavern was not only well stocked, but easy to find, just a couple of minutes walk away from the market square.

Wyldfyre and Larieth entered the tavern through an imposing oak doorway, and were immediately greeted by a short man with a crop of short black hair surrounding a well-established bald patch, and cheerful eyes to match his welcoming expression. He ushered the two to a table in a quiet corner of the otherwise bustling tavern and took their requests for some of the local mead while they examined the menu.

"Seems like quite a cheerful place," Wyldfyre remarked as he scanned the menu for something of interest. "More than the last place we visited, at least."

Larieth nodded and browsed his own copy of the menu. It was a fine thing being able to hunt for your own food, but having some comforts every now and again never hurt, and he was very much looking forward to the opportunity of a hot bath that evening. Skin or scales, there was no better sensation than being immersed in warm water, as far as he was concerned.

The mead was quickly brought to the table, and the pair ordered their chosen dishes. The waiter dutifully took down their order and recounted it back to the pair before retreating to the kitchens to prepare the meal.

Some of the local conversation drifted over from the other parts of the room, and there was no sign of surprise when the inevitable story began to drift over from one of the central tables. The man was quite clearly not entirely sober, and Wyldfyre noted that he was not one of the three that had confronted him the previous night. News always travels fast, especially on market day.

"I'm tellin' ya, the great beast was at least fifty feet tall! That's what my mate Graven said, an' he's no liar! Blue from tip to tail, with great wings an' fangs all drippin' with the blood of his victims! Well, they all tried to confront the evil creature, but he was just too powerful for 'em! Shot great gouts of fire from 'is nostrils and lightning from 'is eyes! I tell ya, the great beast is still out there, and I'd be careful of myself if I was goin' out int' forest anytime soon!"

The man was soon decried by his fellow drinkers, but Wyldfyre was sure it was not the last time the story would be told today, and it would only get more fantastical as it went. Larieth simply sighed and rested his head against one of his palms, supported by his elbow on the table. He smiled wryly at Wyldfyre and mouthed the words 'fifty feet tall' before rolling his eyes.

Before any other stories could emerge from the masses, though, a commotion erupted outside the tavern, and people started to run past the windows. One such person burst into the tavern, his face paled and his breath uneven and ragged. "Monsters!" He cried. "There's monsters attacking the town!"

The room erupted in a flood of movement, most people running for the door, others disappearing up the stairs to the upper levels of the building. Wyldfyre looked with some concern at Larieth, who nodded and rose from his seat. After most of the crowds had cleared, they strode towards the door, both quickly drawing their swords.

**********

Outside the tavern, there were still crowds of people hurrying away from the source of the trouble. Market traders had quickly packed up their stalls and belongings and were attempting to drive their carts through the town streets, only adding to the congestion and chaos.

Wyldfyre followed Larieth as he drove his way against the flow of the crowds. Fortunately, the swords they carried caused many people to move out of the way, easing their progress somewhat. They made their way to the edge of the town, now devoid of people, save for a few like minded individuals who had armed themselves and made their way against the crowds, and some member of the town guard.

The sight that greeted them as they rounded the last block of houses caused them to stop in their tracks. There was a group of creatures, perhaps as many as twenty, stalking down the street. They were large, some as tall as ten feet or so, with dark or completely black leathery skin, and twisted, gruesome bodies that resembled nothing Wyldfyre had ever seen. Their muzzles dripped with ichor of some sort, and their snarls and howls echoed out across the street.

Some of the intruders were busy breaking through the doors of nearby houses with their bare claws and hands. Others prowled the streets, scenting the air and searching for prey. They spotted the group that Wyldfyre and Larieth had joined with almost immediately, and the prowling creatures became a mass of frenzied charging.

Standing next to Wyldfyre was a tall, thickly built man, wearing black leather armour with silver studs down the chest. Bearing his teeth at the incoming creatures, his hand reached over to the scabbard on his back and he drew an impressive looking broadsword. The man turned his head to spit to the ground. "It'll be that mad wizard, Korlath, that's responsible for this!"

Wyldfyre didn't say anything back. He levelled his short sword at the creatures and glanced across to Larieth, who was doing the same. Behind him, Wyldfyre saw some of the town guards advance and lower their long, sharp pikes into the path of the oncoming foe. The defenders of Aspinara stood ready.

**********

It felt like almost a lifetime before the twisted creatures reached the waiting warriors. The guards thrust their pikes forward, catching some of the creatures unaware in their frenzy and impaling them. In the same instant, Wyldfyre darted forward and swept his sword in a twisting, rising arc, slicing upwards at one of the creatures and felling it immediately. The other fighters, including Larieth, entered the fray, blades swinging.

There was a cry as one of the town guards misjudged a thrust with his pike and caught the full force of one of the creatures in his chest, knocking him to the ground. The creature tore at the guard's shining bronze armour, ripping through it like it almost wasn't there.

Wyldfyre saw the guard in distress, and tried to come to his aid, but was blocked by another creature charging from the side and causing him to topple to the floor. His reactions fired in time, and he righted himself, landing on his feet in a crouched position and sliding backwards to a halt. Taking half a moment to catch his breath while the creature turned on him, he looked back to see the guard being assisted by another of his unit, spearing the attacking creature and dragging it off his comrade. But it was too late to save him from some injury, long gashes on his arms bleeding freely, though at least the man was alive.

Turning back to the creature that charged him, Wyldfyre stayed crouched and waited until it was upon him, pouncing down with its claws raised. He thrust his sword forward and caught the beast in the chest, the blade driving deep into the thing's twisted body. There was an eruption of horrible black fluid from the creature - blood, Wyldfyre guessed. It spattered across his cloak and a drop caught his cheek, causing a sharp burning sensation. Quickly wiping his sleeve over his face to remove the fluid, Wyldfyre turned to face another foe.

Larieth, meanwhile, was wishing that it was safe to assume his trueform here. Claws would have been just as effective as the sword he now wielded, and scales would have been more protection against whatever it was that flowed within the creatures' veins.

Facing down his second target, Larieth evaded the creature's strikes and brought his sword cleanly against its chest, inflicting a fatal wound. With a leap, he dodged the hot fluid that sprayed forth, letting it spill harmlessly to the ground. At the same moment, he heard a scream and turned to see one of the guards, victorious in defeating one of the beasts, but caught in a rain of burning black blood from the creature, now hanging above him on his pike.

Without a thought, Larieth raised his hand, directed it towards the hanging beast and summoned a magical force to push the creature sideways in the air and to the ground, releasing the guard from the harmful rain. With a smile, he prayed everyone had been to busy to notice his actions.

**********

The battle was over almost as soon as it had begun. The frenzied actions of the creatures had prevented them from acting as a unit just enough to keep casualties on the side of the defenders relatively light. There were some injuries though, and some of those able enough quickly dispatched themselves to try and locate where the local healers had fled to.

Larieth wiped his brow with the back of a hand and located Wyldfyre amongst the victorious warriors. He made eye contact, and the two stepped aside to a quieter part of the street.

"You are not injured, Wyldfyre?" Larieth looked up and down at his companion, looking for any obvious sign of wounding.

Wyldfyre shook his head, nonchalantly wiping his sword across the bottom of his cloak and sheathing it. "I'm fine. I got a spot of that blood on my face, but I'm okay… By the stars themselves, Larieth, what were those things?"

Larieth gave Wyldfyre a worried expression. "I'm not sure, my friend. They weren't natural, that I can say for sure."

"One of the warriors said that a wizard... Korlath... was responsible. Have you ever heard of him?"

Larieth considered the name for a moment. "No, I haven't. But given these events, I think maybe we should find out a little more about him." He sighed, looking at his blood marked cloak, then allowed a grin to spread across his face. "Though right now, I need a bath!"

**********

There was no argument, the two quickly left the scene of the battle and found their way back to the tavern they had had to leave in such a hurry. Slowly, the patrons and owners returned, once they had learned that the danger had passed, and they heralded Wyldfyre and Larieth as heroes, which at least got them the best accommodation in the tavern for free, along with meals and as much mead as they cared for.

Larieth immediately took his bath, with hot water carried upstairs to their room by the tavern staff. He relaxed in the warm water and let the stress in his muscles seep away into the water. He missed the hot springs that he could swim in back home, but at least this was one way in which he could replace that sensation.

Wyldfyre took the opportunity to clean his sword more thoroughly. He was grateful that the blade had not been damaged by the blood of the strange creatures. Indeed, his cloak had not suffered either, just the skin on his face the blood had splashed against, which was still a little tender to the touch. Word had filtered back to the tavern that the guard who had been covered by the blood during the battle had been badly burned, but had survived, and that it was lucky he had not been covered any more than he had, a fact that had made Larieth smile, though it seemed his use of magic had fortunately gone unnoticed. "Always all of the work and none of the credit," he later jokingly commented.

An hour or so later, after darkness had fallen, Larieth and Wyldfyre returned to the bar downstairs to make use of their host's generous offer of free mead. And very good mead it was, too. They drank happily for the evening, talking about the day and their recent travels. The battle against the beasts stayed out of the general conversation, though.

Later that night, after a local bard had been and gone, sharing his music and song with the crowds, Wyldfyre noticed someone familiar in the tavern. It was a tall man, with the same rugged features as the one who had stood next to him and fought the beasts that day, the one with the black studded leather armour and the impressive broadsword. He had just walked in from outside, and was scanning the room. As his gaze fell upon Wyldfyre, he smiled and strode between the busy tables to the corner of the room.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he smiled. "Would you mind some extra company this late in the evening?"

Wyldfyre looked across at Larieth, looking for his approval. He didn't need it. "Certainly, sir," Larieth returned his generous smile. "If, perhaps we may have the pleasure of your name."

The man pulled up a chair to the table and sat down. "People call me Art, and thank you." He looked across to the barman. "A mug of your finest mead, if you would do me the honour!" The drink was brought quickly to the table, and Art took a long draught from the mug.

"I am Wyldfyre, and this is Larieth." Wyldfyre indicated the two of them. "We are travelling through these parts at the moment."

"Well met, Wyldfyre, Larieth." Art nodded at both of them. "I must thank you for your assistance today. Your fighting skills were most impressive! It is a shame we do not have you here more often when this sort of thing occurs."

Wyldfyre widened his eyes a little. "You mean, this has happened before? Is this all due to that wizard you mentioned... Korlath?"

"Aye, that's the one responsible. He's crazy and a nasty piece of work to boot. Worst combination for a wizard, if you ask me. He always used to be a nuisance, but recently there have been these bands of creatures attacking the town from time to time. The guards have always been sufficient before, but this group was stronger, it seemed. Either he's getting better, or we're getting weaker through fatigue. Either way, we owe you a debt of gratitude for your assistance."

Larieth smiled a waved a hand through the air dismissively. "Nonsense, Art. We were happy to help. Especially since it seems to have paid for our night's stay here, thanks to the extremely generous tavern keeper here." He paused for a moment. "But I would ask of you, tell me more about this Korlath. I wish to know more about the troubles he has caused you."

Art seemed a little unsure about the request at first, then smiled broadly and nodded. "Know your enemy - I understand. Best be prepared if you're travelling through these regions at the moment. Especially with all this talk of a seventy foot dragon breathing fire and tearing the very air itself with its claws turn out to be true!" He laughed heartily then, showing that he obviously didn't believe the rumours that had been passed around the town now. In his laughter he also missed the resigned and slightly amused look that Larieth shot Wyldfyre.

"Well," Art returned to his previous calmer demeanour. "Korlath lives a few miles away, behind a ridge in the mountains. Never seen it myself, but they say he lives in a tower, carved out of the rock. Sounds mightily impressive. They also say that he's been experimenting with living creatures, twisting them and remoulding them into these beasts. And like I said, every time he sends them they seem stronger than before. Apparently he bears a grudge against the town - they threw him out of market a few years ago for trying to peddle dangerous magical artefacts. Dangerous because they were more likely to explode when you use them than do anything useful!" He paused for a moment, thinking to himself. "That's really all I know. I've just been assisting the town guards recently, I actually teach the art of sword fighting to some of the youngsters here."

"And I'm sure you do a very good job of that, Art. Your skills are most impressive, if your actions today are anything to judge by." Larieth nodded, the compliment genuine, if flattering. "Thank you for the information. We'll be sure to take care."

The rest of the evening passed slowly, the conversation between the three ranging over a number of topics. The mead flowed freely, and when the two finally bid farewell to Art and wandered back to their rooms, they slept long and well.


WYLDFYRE

I suppose it was quite a major battle, but it seemed to be over so quickly. Still, that doesn't really matter, as long as the threat was eliminated and the people kept safe. Even so, those creatures bothered me, even after we knew the source of their creation. This Korlath... Art was right, crazy and evil really is the worst combination for a wizard.

I liked Art. He was a good man, and I know he'd make a good teacher. Some of his mannerisms reminded me of Larieth, others less so, but they certainly seemed to get on very well!

It makes me wonder just who else we'll meet on our travels, or where we'll go.

I suppose that's what tomorrow is for.


LARIETH

Those creatures... surely they could not have been! They did not share the same intelligence, or strength, and they were not the same base type of creature, but for all other purposes, that could have been the Dark Hoarde itself that we faced! Or, at least, a very small unit of it. I am glad Wyldfyre does not seem to have noticed the resemblance between them and the creatures of the Dark Hoarde I have mentioned in my stories.

If this wizard, Korlath, is responsible, he is clearly very dangerous, and his experiments need to be stopped. Though I somehow fear there is more to this than a simple mad wizard using powers he does not understand.

I hope Wyldfyre does not object when I raise my suggestion to him tomorrow. No, of course he will not, I have raised him to help people whenever he can.

I only hope that he does not learn anything harmful from our endeavour.