Payback for Hire

Lakeshire, Redridge Mountains:

"Bailiff Conacher, I said start moving these people out of here!" Magistrate Wilfred Solomon said, his ruddy complexion reddening even further.

Conacher, a dark-haired man with a thin mustache and dressed in the blue and white plate-mail armor of the Stormwind army nodded and waved to two other soldiers. They joined him in forming a line in front of the jostling, angry crowd filling the space in front of the podium where Solomon stood.

The soldiers tried to move forward against the throng of bodies, Conacher speaking in a soothing tone. "Citizens, please move back," he prodded. "Proceed towards the doors in a calm and orderly manner. The town hall is now closed."

"What about my son?" a woman wailed desperately from the crowd. "He's been missing for three days. Please, he's the only family I have left. You have to find him!"

"Gnolls attacked my farm a third time this month," yelled a burly farmer with a thick, black goatee sprouting from his chin. "My stables were pilfered and the horses carried off! What are you and our lauded town garrison doing about the gnolls, Solomon?"

A voice came from the back of the crowd, "What of the dragon attacks against the outlying villages? Is Lakeshire going to be next? What are you doing to protect us?"

Solomon raised his voice above the din of the crowd. "Citizens of Redridge, the town hall is now closed! I can hear no more petitions, inquiries, or grievances today. Please, people. Move along now. The town hall is closed."

A wiry young man with tousled blonde hair pushed his way to the front of the crowd and marched towards the podium. Conacher immediately thrust himself in front of the man to block his path. The young man shoved against Conacher, yelling at Solomon over his shoulder, "How can you just stand up there and send us all away? You're abandoning the people of Redridge!"

Solomon adjusted his monocle in his eye and wiped the sweat off his balding head with a ragged handkerchief. He tried to keep his voice even. "Sir, I am not abandoning anyone. We are simply...tabling these issues for tomorrow's agenda, alright?"

"Enough tabling!" the young man snarled. "You 'table' these issues every day! And what progress have you made? None! It's so typical that the aristocracy cares so little for the plight of the common people."

Solomon cursed inwardly. Where were the troops from Stormwind, Westfall, or Duskwood he'd asked for months ago? With the army returned from the long fight in Northrend and hostilities with the Horde in a lull, could they spare not a single battalion? Where were Watch Captain Parker and the professional help he was supposed to be bringing back with him?

He eyed the young man with growing irritation "I assure you, sir, I care deeply about every man, woman, and child—" An object came flying from the crowd and hit Solomon in the face. His eyes snapped shut as he felt the thing splatter against his cheek, wet and foul-smelling. Reaching up, he wiped the rotten fruit from his face, blinking as he pulled his hand away and slopped the stuff onto the wooden floor at his feet. He clenched his fists and his smooth forehead reddened like a shiny apple. "Conacher! Get these people out of here!" he bellowed.

With a combination of cajoling, threatening, and shoving, Conacher and his men drove the crowd back until they were able to pull the heavy town hall doors closed. They came together with a thud of merciful finality.

Slumping into a chair, Solomon dragged his handkerchief across his face in an attempt to wipe off the remainder of the splattered fruit. It came away soaked.

A servant hurried over to him with a fresh one and began to dab his face with it. "Let me guess...tomato?" Solomon asked.

"Smells like banana, sir," the servant said.

"Even worse." Solomon sighed wearily, thankful for some minor shred of relief at last. It was doomed to be short-lived as always, but he would hold on dearly to every shred he could get. "Braying cretins," he murmured.

It had been seven months since the great so-called "Cataclysm" had shaken the very foundations of Azeroth. The majority of the destruction it had wrought lay far away and out of mind for Solomon, but the terrible state of affairs in Redridge had only seemed to worsen since. If that were even possible at this point.

"Conacher," Solomon called, "bring me the latest field reports."

The bailiff came with a bundle of scrolls and set them before Solomon. Walking to the main floor, he set up a pedestal that had been knocked over by the crowd and replaced the vase that had fallen from it, then stooping down next to a servant, he began to help the man set up overturned benches and pick up debris from the floor.

"The servants will manage that, Conacher," Solomon said. "You've done enough today. Go home to that lovely wife of yours."

Conacher stood and saluted. "Thank you, sir."

As the bailiff walked out, Solomon unrolled the first scroll he laid his hand upon and began skimming the text. He nervously stroked his graying beard. The report listed attacks by gnolls-four raids on farms and attacks on trade caravans in the last week alone. Solomon clenched his teeth behind pursed lips. Gnolls—filthy, slavering, parasite-infested dog-men pillaging and stinking up the countryside. Giant spiders and condors prowling the roads, murlocs poaching fish from the lake—these nuisances he'd always managed to keep under control, but gnolls were a constant thorn in his side. He had lost count of how many passing adventurers he had recruited and sent out to thin their numbers, but somehow they always surged back even more vicious than ever.

He skimmed over a second scroll, detailing regional crop yields and soil erosion statistics. The third scroll he unrolled filled him with dread. It detailed the latest black dragon attacks. This fiend, the most terrible plague to befall the Redridge Mountains since the fall of Stonewatch Keep, had swooped in from the north almost a month ago, terrorizing the mountain villages, torching farmer's fields, and even wiping out whole settlements. Of course, the flood of refugees streamed straight into Lakeshire, straining already dwindling resources. These attacks had the stink of Blackrock Mountain all over them.

No more bumbling adventurers this time, with their flashy, impractical armor, cocky attitudes, and over-sized egos. Solomon realized that he was going to have to hire proper professionals to deal with this marauding black menace. To that end he had sent one of his most trusted men, Watch Captain Jonathan Parker, afar to find said professionals. Preferably an army of them.

Solomon looked up from his brooding when a soldier appeared at the door. It was Parker. Finally! It had been nearly four weeks since Solomon had last seen the man.

The young, blonde-haired soldier ducked inside the room and saluted. "Magistrate."

Solomon scowled. "Well? Out with it, man! Have you brought my mercenary army with you?"

Parker smiled hesitantly. "Well, no...not exactly, sir. But I do believe I have found a band more than worthy to hunt down and slay the dragon for us. They come highly recommended via the Explorer's League branch office in Booty Bay." His smile stretched into a grin.

Solomon took out his monocle. "Then don't just stand there—send them in, man!"

Captain Parker turned and called out into the foyer. "Mr. Tinkertorque, the magistrate is ready to see you now."

Parker stepped aside and a finely-dressed Gnome wearing a hooded cloak with a gold-embroidered hem walked in. His blue eyes twinkled behind a pair of spectacles almost too big for his face. He gave a deep bow. "Greetings, Magistrate," he said. "My name is Gimbo Tinkertorque, explorer and mercenarial entrepreneur. I've been told that you have a dragon problem. Well, Magistrate, I'm here to tell you that your worries are over." He spread his hands wide and smiled under his thick, black mustache. "Your solution has arrived!"

Solomon replaced his monocle, eyed Tinkertorque with it, then glared back at Parker. "That's the help you brought me? A single Gnome?"

"Oh I didn't come alone, Magistrate," Tinkertorque said loudly, deftly directing his voice back towards the door. "Allow me to introduce my associates."

As if on cue, a hearty-looking Dwarf woman was the first to enter the room. She bore the distinctive tattoos of the Wildhammer Clan. The most prominent of which, was the visage of an eagle covering the left side of her head. Actual feathers decorated the chain mail pauldrons on her shoulders, mimicking the wings of an eagle. The longbow and quiver of arrows she carried left no doubt as to her profession.

"Hilda Ironfeather, of Thundermar," Tinkertorque said. "Expert huntress and tracker of the Wildhammer Clan."

Glancing sidelong at Tinkertorque, the Dwarf gave a small roll of her eyes before turning back to Solomon. She gave a brusque bow. "Well met."

Solomon's face lit up. This looked promising. She at least had the bearing of one who had seen battle! The massive Orc who entered the room after her sapped the glow from Solomon's face just as quickly as it had come. An Orc? The last thing Redridge needed right now was another blasted Orc!

Tinkertorque indicated towards the Orc. "Mok, of Razor Hill, warrior and former blademaster of the Bleeding Hollow clan."

Mok nodded and grunted what Solomon guessed to be a greeting. The brute kept his jet black hair pulled back in a long ponytail. His naked torso was covered in scars and red war paint. He wore a necklace of large round beads, a red sash about his waist, long, loose-fitting pants, and wooden sandals. He carried twin swords on his back. Clearly another veteran fighter.

Taking a mental step back and trying to think objectively, Solomon conceded that there were indeed many halfway honorable Orcs across Azeroth, such as those helping to defend the Plaguelands in the north, unaligned with the either the Horde or the Black Dragonflight. Considering the desperateness of his situation, he decided he would try to keep an open mind about this one.

A tall, fair-haired Blood Elf, draped in white robes walked in next and stood at the Orc's side. Solomon sighed inwardly. A Blood Elf now? Why not invite Prince Kael'thas himself to come traipsing into Lakeshire? For that matter, why not the entire Horde?

"Korridan Lore, of Tranquillin," Tinkertorque said. "A priest of the Holy Light and hierophant of the Argent Dawn."

The Blood Elf gave a bow and brought up a glistening ivory staff with a brilliant, many-faceted sapphire in the middle of the head. He placed the staff before him and passed his free hand before Solomon "Blessings of the Light upon you, sir," he said, his voice mellow and lilting like a father speaking words of comfort to a beloved child.

"And finally, I present Lady Rosa Carter of Gilneas, fifth Baroness of Eastmoor," Tinkertorque said. "Soldier and former guerilla fighter in Lord Darius Crowley's rebel army."

Solomon looked towards the door. Seeing no one, he looked back at the Gnome. "Well, where is she?"

Tinkertorque blinked and looked around. "Rosa? For goodness sake. Korridan, where's Rosa?"

The Blood Elf's eyes seemed to glow a brighter green as he smiled. "I believe that she went for a little hunt," he said. "She mentioned something about a plump boar rooting about behind the herbalist's shop, in the trees near the west end of the lake."

Tinkertorque looked confounded. "What? She runs off right before my big presentation? Of all the—oh cogs, what am I going to do with that woman? Mok, go find her please!"

"Don't need to," Mok grunted.

A Worgen woman, strode casually into the room. Towering above all except for the Blood Elf, she was clad in a suit of saronite plate armor on top of a pelt of shaggy, mostly grayish fur. She hefted a mighty battleaxe across one shoulder. Her tall, curved ears moved forward as she looked around at everyone in the room.

"Right-o then!" she said, her voice guttural and her Gilnean accent thick and cheerful. "So sorry to skip off on you like that, Gimbo, love. I do hope I'm not terribly late. Have you introduced me yet, love?" She grinned, her lips pulling back from two enormous pairs of interlocking white fangs protruding from her mouth. Hilda covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a giggle. Tinkertorque slapped a hand over his face, muttering curses.

Solomon drew back at the sight of Rosa, his monocle popping out and falling from his eye. "A Worgen! Parker, you brought a Worgen into my town? Are you crazy? The townsfolk are on edge as it is!"

Parker looked back and forth between the two. "Sir, I-well, she-she didn't look like a Worgen before!"

"They're shape-shifters, Parker! How could you be so careless?"

Smiling, Ironhammer nudged the Worgen in the side. "Rosa, old girl, ye still got a bit 'o blood on yer gob there."

Rosa put her fingers to her muzzle and pulled them away, looking at the red that came off on the tips of her massive, dagger-length claws. "Oh, terribly sorry," she said. "Where are a lady's manners? Hold a mo." She licked the blood off each one and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth.

Solomon watched, cringing at the gory display. Light preserve us.

"There now," the Worgen said. "Yes, I'm afraid I let myself go a bit out there with the catch and kill. Always messy business that, when the Hairy One calls. But don't you fret, I saved some boar shanks for the rest of you. We'll all eat well tonight at least. Cheers, eh?"

"Great! Ye saved us all from deathly hunger just in time to skip Gimbo's deathly tedium," Hilda said.

The two women looked at each other, grinning. Tinkertorque glared at them both.

Solomon scowled at him, wiped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief and replaced his monocle. "Mr. Tinkertorque, noble King Graymane's Worgen may have been accepted into the Alliance back in Stormwind City, but out here in the backcountry, old prejudices still hold sway. To the average Redridge citizen, Worgen are cursed, savage beasts and harbingers of evil. We've all heard the stories from Duskwood, Silverpine Forest and beyond."

"I think, Magistrate," Tinkertorque said, trying his best to keep smiling, "that the noble people of Redridge will experience a significant change of heart once the five of us bring back the severed head of your dragon. I assure you Rosa is in full control of her condition and poses absolutely no danger to your people, pets, or livestock." He turned to the Worgen and hissed at her through clenched teeth, "Rosa, if you please!"

Rosa gave a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes. "Oh all right." She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and concentrated. Her form began to shift. Her muzzle sank into her face, her ears shrank, rounded and migrated downward, her fur receded, her claws and fangs shrank and vanished and in a few seconds, she had reverted completely to human form. Her savage, lupine visage had become that of a copper-skinned young woman with long black hair, blue eyes, and soft ruby-red lips turned up in a coquettish smile.

She cocked her head to one side and looked at Solomon "Better, love?" she asked sweetly.

Solomon blinked and nodded. "Yes...immeasurably." Parker was staring at her too.

Tinkertorque smiled. "Ah, the legendary beauty of the Lady Rosa Carter shows itself once again. Don't be fooled by her delicate looks. The damsel is just as dangerous as the beast.

"Trust me when I tell you, Magistrate, we are the perfect team to take care of your dragon problem. The five of us have been solving problems together all the way from the forests of Ashenvale to the rolling prairies of Westfall, across the frozen wilds of Northrend to the bubbling lava pits of Hellfire Peninsula. We're problem solvers. It's what we do."

Solomon looked at Parker. "Who did you say recommended these people?"

"The Explorer's League, sir," Parker said. "The League is their most frequent client. I'm told Harrison Jones himself speaks well of them."

Solomon looked at Tinkertorque again and the Gnome grinned back at him, nodding adamantly. "Such a grand endorsement. Very well, Tinkertorque. I entrust this task to you and your associates. How much are they asking for, Parker?"

"He quoted an initial sum of two thousand silver pieces," Parker answered. "The final amount negotiable based upon...customer satisfaction with services rendered, I believe he phrased it."

"You heard correctly," Tinkertorque said, grinning. "You pay based on what you think our services are worth and you owe us nothing until the job is done. After a minimum sum of three hundred to cover our equipment and travel expenses, of course."

Solomon raised an eyebrow. "Really? Well then. I would appreciate it if you would get going right away. I need that dragon dead yesterday. The brute was last seen circling the skies in the area surrounding Stonewatch Keep. I'll wager it's a pet of the damned Blackrock orcs that reside there. Bring me this dragon's head and I will gladly pay you the two thousand silver pieces in full."

"Consider it done, Magistrate," Tinkertorque said, bowing once again. "You have my exclusive Gimbo Tinkertorque guarantee."

"I will consider it done, Tinkertorque, when that head is stuffed and mounted on my wall."

Tinkertorque smiled. "I promise you, Magistrate, you will get exactly that. I stake my honor and reputation on it."

The problem solvers left the town hall and Solomon was left hoping that he had made the right choice. He didn't entirely trust this Gimbo character. Tinkertorque's pitch was too polished, his smile too forced. The presence of an Orc and a Blood Elf in the group didn't help improve his peace of mind either. It was always a gamble dealing with Gnomes. He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. That Gnome had better pull through for him or the Explorers League was going to have some explaining to do.

As the Problem Solvers loaded supplies onto their kodo beast, Gimbo put his fists on his hips, his pride swelling as he beamed at his companions. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe I have at last perfected our sales pitch," he said. He cast a disparaging glance at Rosa. "Unexpected circus acts notwithstanding. After we make it big with this job, it'll go a long way towards paying off my debt to Nexus Prince Kalil. When an Ethereal lord threatens to add your brain in a jar to his vast collection of curios, I tend to believe him. There will be enough left over for us to be comfortable for a while too, of course. It's fortunate that the four of you decided to gather yourselves under the wings of my entrepreneurial genius, eh?"

As Mok pushed a bundle of weighted nets onto the huge kodo's back, he looked over his shoulder at Gimbo and scowled.

Gimbo crossed his arms over his chest. "Oh don't give me that look, Mok. You know it's true."

"Here we go," Hilda muttered, rolling her eyes. Standing on the kodo's back, she bent down to help Mok lift and secure a giant spring trap.

"Remember, I'm the one who talked you out of drunken oblivion from that dingy dive bar in Booty Bay and gave you a chance at gainful employment when no one else would. I risked my reputation on that one but it turned out exceptionally well for both of us, now didn't it? Korridan, you know what I'm talking about. Back me up here."

"Well, you are skilled in speeches and clever turns of phrase, I will give you that," Korridan said.

Gimbo blinked. "What—that's it?" He raised a finger. "Maybe you've forgotten that it's also my unbound sense of enterprise that inspired me to invent our revolutionary spider-silk netting. The stuff that's going to stop Solomon's dragon dead in its tracks. Made from the silk of glassweb spiders, its micro-crystalline structure makes it super tough." He pointed to twin harpoon guns built on a wooden platform mounted on Dadanga's back. "A flying dragon is hard to kill, but with the help of my brilliant harpoon delivery system, we entangle his wings in my indestructible netting and that dragon's a goner."

"How can we forget about yer amazin' nettin'?" Hilda said. "Ye never shut up about it."

Gimbo narrowed his eyes at her.

"Don't worry, love," Rosa said. "Dadanga and I think you're a genius." She patted the kodo beast on the head. Dadanga made a low rumbling sound and pushed his knobby head into Rosa's hand. She brought her other hand to his mouth, opening it to reveal a handful of pale green Un'Goro bloodpetal sprouts. Dadanga stuck his nose in and munched on them eagerly.

"Well, at least I have the vote of the Worgen. Speaking of which, is it too much to ask that you arrive for my sales pitch in your delicate, beautiful, non-threatening, not at all wolf-like human form next time? It would be nice if you could curb your exhibitionism long enough for us to make it through the next populated area unscathed."

"Oh, but where is the fun in that?" she said, grinning. Gimbo thought he saw fangs appear in her smile, but only for a moment.

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Yes, I know it's all very amusing for you. Terrifying common Stormwind citizens and sending them fleeing for the hills in panic. The curse of the Worgen is supposed to be a curse, you know. You treat it like it's the grandest old thing in all of Azeroth."

Rosa waved a hand dismissively. "Oh pish posh. There's a saying among the Worgen. You're only as cursed as you feel."

He thrust his fists onto his hips. "That's not a Worgen saying. You just made that up."

"Your problem-solvers speech is becoming dull, Gnome," Mok said. "Your sales pitch would improve with a better name."

"Problem Solvers is the name we decided on, Mok. Don't you remember?"

"I never agreed to it," Mok growled.

"For the Light's sake. We took a fair vote. Korridan agreed with me, Rosa abstained, and Hilda said she would accept being known as 'The Pollywattles' if that would end our arguing about it. That's essentially a 'yes' vote. Three against one, Mok. Accept defeat."

"Still don't like it."

Gimbo threw up his hands. "Well why don't you just go sulk in a corner and cry about it!"

"Don't test me, Gnome."

"What now you're threatening me? After all we've been through together? Rosa, can you believe this?"

She shrugged. Dadanga rumbled and pressed his nose against Rosa's shoulder as she scratched him under his chin.

"Right," Gimbo said. "I suppose I should have predicted that response."

"All I know is, once we're all done with this business, Solomon can keep his gold," she said. "I want that young Watch Captain Parker for my reward. Grrrowl." She chuckled and slid her tongue across her lips.

Gimbo put his fists on hips and scowled at her. "He's married, Rosa. We met his wife Darcy at Three Corners, remember?"

She stared at him for a moment and then looked up thoughtfully. "Oh...yes, I'd quite forgotten about that."

He rolled his eyes. "Naturally."

"Let's get this smelly beast goin' and get out of here," Hilda said. "I'd love to reach Stonewatch Keep at some point this week if ye don't mind, Gimbo."

"Hey, that 'smelly beast' just so happens to be one of the best investments I've ever made. He was the only good thing to come out of our problem-solving run in Un'goro Crater. The folks at Marshal's Refuge let him go for a bargain price too."

"Fine. I don't care. Just get on." She sat down cross-legged on top of the pile of luggage and faced forward.

Gimbo sighed. "Such an impatient Dwarf. Very well, let's go. Rosa, a leg up please."

Rosa stood next to Dadanga and made a cup with her hands. Gimbo steeped into it and she lifted him until he could climb onto Dadanga's back. Rosa grabbed Dadanga's harness and pulled herself onto his back with a single, effortless motion.

"Gotta love that Worgen vitality," Gimbo said.

She smiled in response. "Thank you, love."

Gimbo settled himself in front of the reigns and took hold of them. He gave them a shake.

"Ho, Dadanga!" He barked. The kodo grunted and began to move forward, north, along the cobbled road leading higher into the mountains. Mok and Korridan walked alongside.

"Are you two really going to walk the whole way?" Gimbo said. "It's nearly two day's journey to Stonewatch."

"I don't ride," Mok said.

"Ah. The tough, stoic warrior. Of course."

"I must keep up my lean elfish figure," Korridan said. "I don't wish to end up short and fat in my old age. You know...like a Dwarf."

He smiled up at Hilda and she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Don't be surprised if ye find spit in yer next drink."

"Besides," Korridan said, "your investment very much needs a bath." He covered his nose and moved a little farther away.

Dadanga made a chuffing noise and seemed to gaze at Korridan in dumb innocence.

"Everyone's a critic," Gimbo muttered.

The group traveled for hours under the hot midday sun and into the waning afternoon light. A cool breeze coming out of the south kept the heat from being oppressive. Gimbo enjoyed the scenery if not the altitude. The air up here was much too dry—bad for his poor, ailing joints.

Just entering his early fifties, Gimbo wasn't quite a spry, young Gnome anymore. A fact his wife, Bibby, always made sure to remind him of when she would find out he'd accepted another problem-solving job that took him far from home. Bibby could have a sharp tongue, but he knew she meant well. And that she was often lonely when he was away, though she'd adamantly deny it. He just wished she wouldn't harp on his age so loudly in public. In front of all his associates.

The pass wound through wooded areas and crossed numerous swift-flowing brooks that spilled down the face of the ubiquitous red rock that gave this mountain range its name. It was all very picturesque. And after a time, intuition began to tell Gimbo that perhaps it was a bit too quiet as well.

He looked around at his companions. Mok and Hilda conversed quietly with one another. Korridan was murmuring and making signs with one hand in front of his face. Gimbo could make out part of what he said. "Light, fill me with inner fire and lend me your strength for the coming battles ahead."

Rosa sat facing rearward, her eyes closed. Her feet and head swayed back and forth as if moving to a melody that only she could hear. The calls of birds the gusting wind were all that stirred in the air.

Gimbo decided that he should relax. After all, if there were danger afoot, Rosa would be the first one to smell it. Even in human form, her senses were much enhanced compared to those of an ordinary human. Gimbo sighed and smiled as a meadowlark struck up a tune in a nearby tree.

The afternoon passed and his eyelids began to feel heavy. Dadanga was a sure-footed animal and he knew how to follow a road well. Perhaps it was time for a nap. He let his eyes drift shut and began to doze off. After what seemed like a few seconds, Gimbo was vaguely aware of a noise growing louder until his eyes snapped open at the heavy beat of wings overhead. His heart hammered as he sat bolt upright. The dragon!

Gimbo looked to the sky, his eyes darting left and right, but he saw nothing. He looked around at his companions again. No one else seemed to have heard the beating wings. He glanced at Rosa, who was staring intently at the tree line off to their right. Maybe she smelled a rabbit? He expected any moment, she would spring from Dadanga's back, transforming, all teeth, claws, and fur, bounding off after her supper. Gimbo searched the sky again, but he neither saw nor heard any sign of a dragon.

He laid back, his hands behind his head and closed his eyes again. Must have been nothing more than a lingering dream. Still...he was starting to feel a prickly sensation on the back of his neck. An instinct. Like he was being watched—

A hand fell on Gimbo's shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He stared at Rosa crouched close behind him. He laughed nervously. "Oh, it's you. Rosa, you startled me."

"Sorry, love. I thought you might want to know that we're being followed."

He blinked. "Followed? By whom?"

Rosa sniffed the air, then made a face and covered her nose. "Gnolls, by the smell of them. Just beyond the tree line."

"How many?"

"A whole bloody lot. Dozens, maybe more."

"I believe that we crossed into their territory roughly eight miles back," Korridan said.

Gimbo scanned the tree line and glanced warily back at Rosa. "Are they preparing to attack?"

She shrugged. "Hard to say. Most of them have been holding back well out of sight, but their scouts pussyfoot in closer and closer whenever they think I'm not paying attention. Little rotters. Keep a look out. They're up to no bleeding good, that's for sure."

On that thought, the group traveled on into dusk. Gimbo pulled his cloak about his shoulders against a cold, easterly breeze. A thick stand of elms loomed ahead, their roots encroaching onto the road and pushing up the cobbles. In the failing light, Gimbo didn't see the spiked barricade spanning the road between two massive trunks until Dadanga came to a sudden halt in front of it. Dadanga recoiled from the spikes and gave a rumbling bellow.

Whirling towards the left flank, Mok immediately drew both his swords and let out a roaring battle shout. Hilda stood on Dadanga's back and nocked an arrow. Rushing to the right flank, Korridan placed his staff firmly before him as holy Light gathered in his free hand. Gimbo looked around, eyes wide. Were the gnolls attacking? He couldn't see a thing. There was a long silence as the Problem Solvers stood ready. Gimbo leaned in close to Rosa. "Rosa, where are they?" he hissed.

The treeline on both sides of the road exploded. With ear-splitting howls, the gnolls charged out of the gloom, brandishing axes, spears, and all assortment of crude weaponry. A burly gnoll leading the charge on the left flank, fell dead almost instantly as Hilda's arrow pierced his chest. As he fell, Mok charged, roaring straight into the line of attackers behind him. Several gnolls faltered in the face of the Orc's ferocity. Their hesitation cost them their lives. Mok cut them down before they could react. The others were braver. Snarling in fury, four of them leaped upon Mok. He backhanded one into a tree as another struck at him with a dagger, aiming for his chest. Hilda's second arrow caught that gnoll in the throat. The overhanging treetops lit up brilliantly as Korridan cast smiting blasts of Holy Light against the gnolls on the right flank.

A javelin came flying at Gimbo. He yelped and dodged it barely in time. Losing his balance, he tumbled off of Dadanga's back and hit the ground directly in the path of the gnolls charging in from the right side of the road. They rushed at him where he lay. Gimbo sprang to his feet and dashed underneath Dadanga. "Aaah! Rosa, do something!" he wailed.

Rosa leaped from Dadanga's back, transforming in mid air. She hit the ground on all fours in front of Gimbo and stood up. She brandished her axe, hackles raised and fangs bared. "Time to take your licks, boys," she snarled. "Come here and I'll make jump ropes out of your entrails!"

In that raging beast state of hers, Gimbo had no doubt she meant every word of her grisly threat. Even though he had witnessed her in the heat of battle before, that animal viciousness still gave him chills.

She charged and the lead gnoll raised his wooden shield barely in time to block her first savage axe swing. Her axe thudded against his shield. As the lead gnoll staggered back under the force of her blow, the gnoll next to him swung his own axe at her and she quickly turned on him, parrying the blade aside, then raising her axe with both hands over her head. She shouted as she brought its full force down on the gnoll's head, cleaving through his iron helmet and into his skull. A spray of blood followed the blade as she yanked it out and howled, her glowing eyes bright with glee.

Gnolls swarmed to press the attack against Rosa. For a moment, Gimbo was terrified that she was going to be overwhelmed, then Korridan rushed to her side.

The elf raised his staff. "In the name of the Holy Light, I cast your foul souls back to the Twisting Nether!" A burning pillar of light came down from the sky, illuminating the dusky woods and engulfed a spear-wielding gnoll engaged with Rosa. The brilliance of it, cut through the dark and nearly blinded Gimbo. The gnoll began shrieking in pain and fear as his flesh was seared. Then he seemed to erupt into flames from the inside out as the light rapidly consumed his body. The gnoll fell to the ground, his charred, skeletal remains wafting black trails of smoke. A terrible way to die, Gimbo thought. But mercifully swift.

An arrow struck at Korridan's feet and then another. He deflected the third arrow with his staff and turned on his attacker who stood near the shadowed treeline about twenty feet away, nocking another. Dark shadows began to swirl around Korridan, his voice sunk low and took on an otherworldly tone as he shouted, "PAIN!"

Swirls of shadow magic descended upon the gnoll archer. He dropped his bow and grabbed his head, his eyes going wide. He fell to the ground shrieking and reeling.

The remaining gnolls engaged with Rosa stared at Korridan with wide eyes, dropped their weapons and fled, yelping as they went. Rosa didn't bother to chase them, instead holding her ground at Korridan's side. They seemed prepared for a renewed assault.

A furious howl stopped the fleeing gnolls in their tracks. Their ears flattened and they cowered at the sound. An enormous, scarred gnoll, missing one eye, emerged from the woods, wielding a great war hammer and a spiked, iron shield. Two cloaked and hooded mystics followed behind him. They mystics cast a spell and a glowing, magical shield enveloped all three. The huge chieftain shouted at the others in the guttural gnoll language. They immediately obeyed and turned back to face Rosa and Korridan. Those who had kept their weapons raised them and charged forward again. The rest joined them, some retrieving any weapons within reach, others readying to fight with their bare paws. Their chieftain was highly persuasive indeed.

As Rosa hewed open the chest of a gnoll, wrenched her axe out and kicked another in the face with her boot, Korridan cast a smiting blast against the mystics' shield. The spell struck the barrier but appeared to have no effect on it.

The chieftain laughed out loud. "I am Yowler, son of Yowler!" he snarled. "You all die now!" He bore down upon Korridan with great speed. Though protected from attacks from the outside, the chieftain was able to strike out at Korridan with his hammer, unhindered through the shield.

Korridan raised his staff to block the incoming blow. The chieftain's hammer impacted against his staff and staggered him back, nearly disarming him. Korridan cried out in pain. The chieftain didn't let up, striking again and again.

Gimbo heard a noise behind him. He whirled and saw a gnoll crouched under Dadanga, sword drawn, crawling towards him. The gnoll snarled and gnashed his teeth when he saw he'd been discovered. He lifted his sword to strike.

Cursing, Gimbo yanked his hood it up, grabbed the hem of his cloak and threw it about himself. The gnoll halted, staring in confusion. Gimbo hadn't moved, but the gnoll's eyes seemed focused passed him, as if staring through him. Wrapped in shadows under his cloak's enchantment, Gimbo circled the gnoll with expert swiftness and crept behind him. He drew his dagger and held it poised to strike. He stared at the gnoll's shaggy back and his grip on his dagger tightened, his knuckles whitening. His heart hammered in his chest. He felt paralyzed. All he could think about was the blood, the blade rupturing flesh, eviscerating organs and stopping a live, beating heart. He began to tremble. He couldn't. He had to. There was no time!

The sniffed the air, his ears perking up. He snarled and whirled.

A shock of panic. Gimbo's eyes shot open. He plunged his dagger into the side of the gnoll's neck as the mongrel turned, sending his jaws flying wide in a strangled shriek. Clawing futilely at the blade, the gnoll's eyes rolled towards Gimbo. Gimbo squeezed his shut until he heard the gnoll collapse forward. Opening his eyes again, he watched the gnoll writhing on the ground for a few moments before growing still.

Panting and holding his chest, Gimbo stared at the gnoll's lifeless body. He'd done it. A terrible, unforgivable thing—but he'd done it. He had it in him after all. He wrenched his dagger out and kicked the gnoll's body out from under Dadanga. He gripped the hem of his cloak. "Cloak of shadows," he said, his voice trembling. "Second best investment I've ever made."

Korridan shouted, "PAIN!" Gimbo looked up and watched swirls of shadow dissipate uselessly against the chieftain's shield. Rosa dashed in front of Korridan and deflected the chieftain's next hammer strike with her battle axe.

"Korridan," she yelled, "Get back! You're drawing too much attention to yourself!"

"Agreed," he said.

As he retreated, he held out his open palm towards her and shouted, "SHIELD!" The word was a deafening thunder that reverberated through the trees. A sphere of protective light surrounded her, bathing everything around her in brilliance. The chieftain's blows struck the barrier, their force entirely absorbed by the spell. The chieftain snarled in rage.

One of his mystics, apparently sensing the irony of unstoppable force meets immovable object, was unable to suppress a snicker. It was likely the biggest mistake the mongrel had made in his entire wretched life. The chieftain roared and whirled on the mystic, kicking at him savagely. The mystic yelped and fell backward, losing control of his share of the shield. The shield wavered as the second mystic struggled to maintain it alone.

Gimbo was certain the shield was weak enough now to punch through with a determined strike. He didn't have to guess for long when a pillar of light burned through the shield, engulfing the shrieking mystic in flames. The chieftain stared, his face etched with shock at the shield vanishing around him, then rage filled his eyes. He howled, charging at Korridan with hammer raised.

Mok came rushing in on the chieftain's flank. Halting in his charge to face Mok, the chieftain raised his iron shield. Mok bore down on him with both swords, striking the shield alternately with one, then the other. The chieftain stumbled back under the force of Mok's attack. Trying unsuccessfully to strike back with his hammer, he parried a sword blow, blocked another and continued to give ground. Korridan retreated a short distance away and closed his eyes, lips moving silently.

Gimbo turned and peered out from Dadanga's left side. He watched Hilda as she fired an arrow into the back of a single fleeing gnoll. He fell among the scattered bodies of his comrades—all that remained of the devastated left flank attack. Returning to Dadanga's right side, Gimbo saw the chieftain, surrounded by a handful of his underlings. They had forced Mok to retreat from his attack and now he stood side by side with Rosa and Korridan. Hilda joined them, arrow nocked and bowstring stretched back. The gnolls began to back away from their chieftain, eyes darting between the four adversaries standing against them. The chieftain shouted at them but they continued to back away.

Rosa pointed her axe at the chieftain, baring her fangs in a grin. "We accept your surrender! Come on now, put the hammer down. There's a love."

The chieftain spat on the ground, let out a howl, and charged forward with his shield before him.

Rosa readied her axe as her glowing eyes flashed with feral glee. "I was hoping that would be your answer!"

"Everyone get behind me," Korridan shouted. A pillar of light enveloped him, causing the gnolls to stagger back as they shielded their eyes. Korridan's eyes blazed and fire gathered in his hands. His robes began to undulate as if blowing in the wind as his entire body glowed with holy light.

Rosa's eyes widened. "Oh bugger!" She dashed behind Korridan, followed immediately by Mok and Hilda.

A tremendous holy nova exploded from Korridan and washed over the entire group of gnolls. The chieftain screamed as the full force of the nova seared away all his fur and licks of holy energy tore his body to shreds, throwing him into the ground.

When the nova faded, Gimbo uncovered his eyes and stared at the terrible aftermath, the chieftain blackened and smoking, dead among the scattered bodies of his underlings. Patches of the surrounding foliage burned, casting flickering light against shadowed tree trunks. A single surviving gnoll, dazed and scorched, rose to his knees.

Rosa swung her axe and plunged it into his skull, sending him back to the ground for good. "Well, love...you had your chance," she said dryly.

Gimbo crawled out from under Dadanga. Rising to his feet, he threw his hands in the air. "Bravo! Korridan, you're amazing! Why didn't you open with that?"

"It takes intense focus and clarity of mind to call upon the greatest powers of the Light. The Light can't simply be manipulated like the arcane power of a mage."

Gimbo quickly nodded. "Of course, of course. But by great Muradin's beard, that was incredible! I'm telling you—you carry this group, Korridan!" He paused, then slowly turned to look at Mok, Rosa, and Hilda, who were glaring back at him. He forced a smile chuckled uneasily. "Oh, please don't get me wrong, the rest of you were great too. Amazing. Just not quite as amazing as Korridan."

"Yer praise is heart-liftin'," Hilda said.

"Perhaps Korridan and the Gnome should do all the fighting next time," Mok said.

"Aye, good idea. Korridan, ye could use Gimbo as a shield." She shouldered her bow. "Mok, come help me find me arrows in all this gore." She walked away and Mok gave Gimbo one more withering glare before following after her.

Grimacing, Gimbo looked back and forth between the two in distress. "Friends...comrades, come on now. Don't be angry. I didn't mean it that way. Rosa, tell them!"

The blade of her axe still embedded in the gnoll's skull, she stood with her hands crossed over the pommel, resting her chin on top of them. "I'm afraid you've misstepped, love."

"Gimbo, please," Korridan said. "I cannot accept the grand praise you give to me, nor the credit for our victory. The others fought as well and as true as I did. The power that I wield comes only by the grace of the Light which resides in the hearts of all noble beings. It is not you or I, but only the Light through us that truly triumphs—"

Korridan stopped short when a great shadow passed over the Problem Solvers. Gimbo heard enormous wings beating in the sky. This time it wasn't his imagination. Everyone looked to the sky as a black dragon circled above them in the pale light of the rising moon.