The gentle creak of wooden wheels against the packed earth resonated through the morning air as our small caravan made its way toward Orrano. An assortment of carts, filled with a variety of goods wrapped in burlap and covered by canvas tarps, rolled steadily down the road, forming a train that stretched between sun-dappled trees and vast, open fields. The distant songbirds harmonized with the lively chatter among the other travelers in the caravan—a peaceful melody woven into the backdrop of our journey.

  I sat comfortably in one of the carts, the travel-worn wood beneath me warm from the morning sun's embrace. My new companions—the Ashen Blades known as Dorian, Seraphina, Kael, and Thom—shared the cart with me, finding brief respite from the rigors of our journey through a mix of stories and friendly banter.

  Seated across from me, Seraphina radiated curiosity while her cat-like features glimmered in the sunlight. Her tawny fur, adorned with subtle striped markings, lent her an air of regal calm, offset by her inquisitive green eyes and twitching ears, reminding me of the wilderness. She leaned back, allowing her tail to curl idly around the edge of the cart as she considered me thoughtfully.

  “So, Velrik,” she began, her voice smooth yet filled with playful intrigue, “we know you’ll be more valuable to this mission than just some random client we've picked off the street. I’d like to hear more about you, if you’re comfortable sharing—especially given our shared uniqueness.”

  A light chuckle escaped me, my sharp teeth catching the sunlight as I flashed her a warm expression. There was a sense of comfort here—a soft line of trust woven into our exchange, yet free from the weight of probing intent. It felt like an invitation I could accept, a chance to navigate the delicate balance between revelation and discretion. It may also be a chance to find out where my home is.

  “Well,” I started, carefully choosing my words, “I suppose I can share something.” I paused, drawing a grounding sense from my memories that felt both distant and vivid. “I’m from a land far enough away that myth seems to be the most appropriate way to describe it. I don't remember much of where I came from, I was taken from my home when I was just a kit—sold as a pet to a noble lord in Montressa.” My gaze drifted, lost in the quiet reflection of days gone by, shadows of my past dancing like the sunlight filtering through the trees surrounding the road.

  Seraphina's ears perked forward, her curiosity evident but without intrusion as she watched me intently. “That must’ve been difficult,” she observed softly, every word laced with unspoken empathy.

  “Nothing teaches humility quite like being forced to play tea party with a little girl,” I continued. Then a hint of a smile rested on my lips, “It wasn’t entirely bleak, though,” the lightheartedness and simplicity of this memory brought warmth to my heart as I reflected, “I met good people despite the circumstances. They educated me and took care of me until I was able to do so myself. Eventually, we were freed because the lord was dealing in illegally acquired slaves. After that came my training as a rogue, and then something—no, someone—pushed me out of Montressa.”

  Kael, seated on the left side of the cart, leaned slightly toward us, his broad shoulders turning as he listened with intrigue. “And what of now? What guides your choices after Montressa?”

  I considered the question, resting for a moment in the shared warmth coiling between us. “I’m just looking for a new place to belong, I suppose,” I replied, my mind echoing the formative tutelage of Gareth. “I gravitate toward opportunity—where kindness and daring don’t insist on permanent separation. I’d also like to discover where my home is and find my way back one day, but I don't even know where to start looking.” I turned my gaze toward Seraphina. “You’re the first Lynxen I’ve seen, but I hope you may have some insight since we share some similarities.”

  Her tail swayed slightly, a rhythmic testament to her feline essence, and her expression softened with a recognition of our similar appearances. “Unfortunately, I’ve never seen another like you, so I couldn’t say.” I could sense the expectant light in my expression fade slightly. “But, I’m from the great southern continent, or as we say down there, Sundarra. It’s quite the journey, and that is where most Lynxen originate.”

  I nodded gratefully, my tail dusting the wooden seat. “Thank you. This is the first clue I have to finding my home, so it’s invaluable to me.”

  Seraphina’s tail swayed against the side of the cart. “I’m glad you chose to travel with us, by the way. Even if you don’t want to stick around permanently, we’d be happy to have you with us now and then,” she said, attempting to lighten the mood.

  “Kindred spirits,” Thom interjected, his vibrant tone a brushstroke of camaraderie. “I’d wager we each bring our own peculiarities to the table.”

  Dorian, who had been quietly listening, nodded in affirmation. “We’re glad to have you with us, Velrik. We do well on our own, but there’s something about adding more pieces to the mix that feels… promising.”

  Their words settled around me like a burrow warmed by the sun, a testament to our shared resolve. The conversation flowed into a comfortable silence that hummed with understanding, allowing space for quiet reflection as the distinctive scent of cedar wood from the cart infused the air.

  In the small lulls where words fell away, I considered the tapestry of lives woven through these travels. Each journey was carved by individual hands, yet our destinies had entwined unexpectedly into the vibrant array of personalities seated beside me.

  As we traveled, the landscape began to undulate gently—hills rising and falling with a steady grace. The textures of patchwork fields and distant woodlots rolled by, an ever-shifting canvas of colors catching the warmth of the day's sun upon the canvased carts.

  During one such moment, the outline of Orrano began to emerge on the horizon; its rooftops etched against the sky, modest yet inviting. I lifted my gaze, absorbing the view and feeling the field’s gentle sway echo inside me, as we approached what felt like both a shared determination washed over me.

  With the promise of Orrano’s hearth rekindling inside me, my anticipation transformed. My thoughts turned to the task at hand and the opportunity to safeguard a community that had begun to weave itself into my life's narrative. As we drew closer to the threshold, I felt a calming certainty—just as the sun’s warmth poured over the earth, potential threads embraced my resolve, encouraging possibility and grounding my purpose.

  The cart rattled along the last stretch of road, the texture shifting beneath us as the village of Orrano drew near. Steadily, its collection of thatched roofs and simple wooden structures welcomed us—a warm sight after our journey.

  As the caravan trundled to a halt just outside the village square, my companions and I gathered our belongings. Each of us took a moment to stretch, feeling the relief spread through our muscles as we prepared for the tasks ahead. The familiarity of Orrano's setting opened the door to purpose as we disembarked, the promise of a new chapter awaited.

  The scent of freshly tilled earth mingled with the wood smoke drifting from chimneys, infusing the air with a rustic charm. Villagers glanced over, some with curiosity at the newcomers, while others offered nods of recognition toward me as we approached Orrano.

  As we moved deeper into the heart of the village, I walked at the forefront, my senses attuned to the vibrant life flowing around us. The gentle discourse of market stalls blended with the creak of wooden carts, all combining to form the rich fabric of village life that imbued each corner with presence.

  Our first stop was to find the Mayor. I led Dorian, Seraphina, Kael, and Thom through pathways lined with flower-filled planters and active stalls buzzing with familiar faces. With our shared understanding of purpose, the mercenary team followed in step, reflecting equal measures of competence and composure.

  By the time we reached the Mayor's home, excitement and possibility stirred within me. Inside, Mayor Arlin sat at his desk, surrounded by a chaotic array of papers and books. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, breathing life into his weathered features, and as I stepped inside, a warm smile spread across his face.

  “Velrik,” Mayor Arlin greeted, rising with welcoming gestures. “I see you've found capable help.”

  I returned his smile and gestured toward my companions. “Indeed. May I introduce Dorian, Seraphina, Kael, and Thom.”

  Each of them returned the mayor’s nod with deference, acknowledging the important role he played in our undertaking.

  “Good to meet you all,” Arlin said, quickly assessing our group. I could see gratitude in his eyes, a relief that cast aside the tension that had been hanging in the air. “It's a blessing you could come. Velrik, since you seem interested in this job, would you like to take charge of this matter?”

  I glanced at my companions, measuring the collective assurance they emanated. “I'll take responsibility for what comes next,” I replied decisively. “We’ll work with the villagers to ensure this is handled thoroughly, and we’ll aim to rid this threat permanently.”

  Arlin nodded, his trust in me evident. “Good, I’m trusting you.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  With our mission clarified, I felt a sense of freedom. The trust bestowed upon me resonated; I was ready to strategize as best I could.

  Satisfied with the exchange, we departed the mayor's office, content with the primary objective secured. With a shared connection grounded in purpose, we made our way toward the Sleepy Fern Inn, which had become a place of refuge for me.

  Inside the inn, the warmth contrasted with the cool anticipation lining the breeze beyond the doors. The everyday runes of life sketched across the tables and hearths epitomized simple respite, a welcome counterpoint to the looming tales of trouble waiting to unfold.

  The innkeeper, Old Milo, greeted me with a familiar grin, his jovial presence a fixture among the travelers. “Ah, Velrik, back so soon? And with company, it seems.”

  I returned the smile, grateful for his warmth. “Indeed, Milo. We're here on business this time. If there’s food, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

  Milo gestured toward a table by the window, wiping it gently before inviting us to settle in.

  As we took our seats, Milo set about serving hearty plates of stew and bread. The comforting clatter of forks against wooden bowls ushered in a brief period of silence, each bite fortifying our resolve for the task ahead.

  While eating, I absorbed the cadence of conversation among my new companions. Each voice lent strength to the others, and through laughter and camaraderie, the inherent trust bloomed within our circle. We were imbued with purpose—the kind of conviction that bound allies.

  After we finished eating, I pushed my empty bowl toward the center of the table, signaling the end of our meal and the beginning of our plotting. The inn was quieter now, the tang of hearty stew lingering in the air as a testament to the comfort we had enjoyed. My new companions leaned in, their interest piqued as their ears perked to hear what lay ahead.

  “Alright,” I began, my voice carrying the poise of someone beginning to embrace newfound leadership. “We need to handle this intelligently, using our individual strengths to our full advantage. These Kobolds can be elusive, and what we really need first is information.”

  I paused, considering the faces around the table. Dorian’s determined gaze met mine, presenting an anchor of support. Seraphina’s ears flickered with alertness, curiosity an intrinsic part of her being. Kael watched with the steady assurance of a protector, while Thom leaned forward with eager energy, practically bouncing in his seat.

  “I suggest we begin with reconnaissance,” I continued. “Someone needs to scout the woods to locate the Kobold camp or signs of activity. We need a layout. Knowing their numbers and movement patterns could make or break our plan. I can help with this part.”

  Seraphina nodded, her eyes bright with understanding. “I’m suited for that job too,” she offered, her feline features accentuating an air of confidence that whispered of hidden agility. “I’m quiet and have a knack for blending in.”

  Smiling, I nodded, grateful for her readiness. “Perfect. Once we find them, we report back as soon as possible to the others. Then we can decide our next move based on what we found. If they are spread out enough we may be able to take a few down during reconnaissance.”

  Thom leaned in with a conspiratorial grin. “And if they stick together?” he inquired, mischief lacing his words.

  “If someone has a means of hitting them all at once in a large area, it should surprise them enough for us to seize the advantage,” I suggested. “We adapt based on what we know. But regardless, stealth might be our best approach. If they’re scattered, we can take them out one by one.”

  Seraphina’s tail flicked thoughtfully as she considered our next steps. “We’ll need to watch for signs of sentries or lookouts. Their greatest advantage is home terrain—traps and ambushes could make a straightforward attack costly.”

  Kael shifted in his seat, the weight of his thoughts clear as he mused aloud. “Luring them out might work, but we’ll need the right bait.”

  “A wounded creature, a theft of their spoils—Kobolds are drawn to things of interest,” Thom suggested with a sparkle in his eye. “We could exploit their greed.”

  I tilted my head slightly, impressed by their input but maintaining my focus. “Yes, any signs of division could offer an opening. If we can create distractions—like fake fires or sounds—we can draw them into our own trap.”

  “Minimizing risk,” I affirmed, scanning the map again. “We use subtlety and teamwork. We have surprise on our side.”

  Our exchange flowed like a dance, a symphony of shared insights built on mutual understanding. The boundaries of our plan felt tenuous yet strong—like a finely spun web held together by collective objectives.

  With the initial strategy laid out, I examined their faces, sensing the extension of trust written within their expressions. Orrano's existence might rely on these moments, and the decisions we made would shape the uncertainty into manageable arcs of possibility.

  Kael gathered his thoughts, speaking with the slow assurance of someone both practical and vigilant. “Safety is key—if things look too risky, we pull out. But we must devastate their numbers or wound as many as possible first if we can.”

  Seraphina scratched behind her ear thoughtfully, her calm demeanor underscoring her sharp awareness. “And if we scare some off we follow their trails, we could track any survivors back to their hideouts.”

  “Good idea,” I mused. “We can mark paths to identify any escape routes they rely on, laying groundwork for a trap with one of us as the lure.”

  The vision solidified. Before us lay our combination of skill sets, intent aligning to create something altogether robust yet infinitely malleable.

  As the evening wound forward, brimming with potential, I exhaled—a quiet satisfaction quelled my involvement in our strategic symphony. Unity—an experience born not of mere circumstance but of choice—enlivened the air between us.

  The final strokes of light stretched across the table, pooling at the corners as evening deepened its hold on Orrano. As we lifted our gazes to the cooling dusk outside, we drew a breath, ready for what lay ahead.

  My tail flicked once more, a subtle affirmation of the certainty I felt about my choice in allies. With our preparations complete and buoyed by the shared commitment, we retired to our rooms for the night, ready to face the challenges dawn would bring.

  As dawn approaches, the stillness of the world before daybreak wraps around me like a soft blanket as I am roused from sleep. The faint chirping of crickets whispered through the warm morning air—an undertone of anticipation holding its breath for the arrival of the sun.

  Fingers of sunlight gently kissed my dreams farewell, inviting me to rise with quiet purpose. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, I sat up in my bed, my ears twitching as I shook off the drowsiness. The room was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the wooden floors, creating a dance of shapes that echoed the serenity outside.

  After lying in bed for another few moments, I listened to the sounds of the morning filtering through my window. Satisfied, I hopped off the bed and, with a practiced economy of movement, donned my armor. The leather creaked softly beneath my fingers as I fastened each strap, adjusting the fit to suit my spry frame.

  Taking a moment to brush back my fur, ensuring my fox-like appearance echoed my innate grace rather than wildness, I moved with fluid efficiency. The brush ran through my coat, smoothing any wayward tufts and leaving me feeling composed. It was also a good way to keep too much of my undercoat from making me warmer than I liked during the summer.

  Satisfied with the result, I secured my cloak and tucked away any belongings I wouldn’t need for the day. A few coins, wrapped parchments, and intimate mementos carefully concealed within my pack were tethered to private memories that shaped my journey. With preparations complete, I was ready to meet the day.

  I navigated my way downstairs quietly, the gentle padding of my paws absorbed by the warmth of the inn’s walls. Old Milo was already bustling about, setting out bread and tending to a pot of steaming tea.

  “Always an early start for you, eh?” Milo commented with a keen eye and a knowing smile as he arranged the room for breakfast.

  “Got a long day ahead,” I replied, mirroring his warmth with my own smile.

  Shortly thereafter, a fragrant plate of breakfast was set before me—a generous serving of sizzling sausages with eggs and toast. The rich scent rose to greet my senses, rekindling early vigor amid quiet contemplation. As I ate heartily, savoring each bite, I felt a stronger sense of purpose settling around me. If I never found these Kobolds, or if we fail here today, I may never get the chance to eat this food again.

  While I enjoyed my meal, I allowed my gaze to wander, absorbing the rhythmic dance of morning life blossoming within the inn. The flicker of lanterns provided a cozy luminescence; their soft light sparked focus amid the gathering dawn.

  Before long, my companions joined me, the mercenary group descending with muffled banter that filled the space with camaraderie. The soft padding of their footsteps and the subtle rustle of their armor grew more distinct, a harmonic testament to the work that lay ahead.

  Though I enjoyed their company, I also cherished the quiet of this morning, where the only sounds were the gentle clinks of dishes being set, Milo cooking, and the muted movement of patrons above.

  “Morning,” Dorian greeted, purpose evident in his expression.

  Seraphina rolled her shoulders, a luminous wave of feline energy exuding with each movement as she met my gaze. “All set for today?” she inquired, sliding into a chair opposite me.

  I nodded comfortably, reveling in the energy that surged between us—a reminder of our earlier discussions crafted with efficiency and fortified by shared resolve.

  As we settled in, the table became awash with breakfast preparations, the plates filled with fresh foods mirroring our discussions. We indulged our appetites, minds immersed in the renewed beginnings that the meal provided.

  With our last bites complete and our ambience settling into restful determination, I began to outline our immediate course of action. “Let’s start by checking the chicken coop,” I suggested. “That’s where the attacks first began. I'll lead us to a small area that the Kobolds prepared and we move from there.”

  Dorian nodded, his focus shifting toward me, clearly attuned to the tasks at hand as they finished up their meals.

  As we made our way toward the coop, I couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement. We were a team now, working together toward a common purpose. It's been too long since I've felt this sense of camaraderie and purpose. Arriving at the chicken coop, I examined the area, scrutinizing for any new signs of disruption or evidence left behind. The ground was marked with the remnants of hasty retreats: scattered feathers and soil disturbed by theft and claw alike. It looks like more Kobolds have been here, and they're sloppier than the last one.

  Dorian studied the surroundings with a calculating eye, exchanging glances with Kael before he spoke. “Looks like it was more than just one troublemaker this time.”

  Kael nodded, crouching to further investigate the prints. “Traveling light, maybe. Not much worth noting here.”

  “We need to stay alert. Seraphina and I will begin recon once we reach the woods,” I murmured, speaking to my companions. “We must ensure they don't see us coming. The woods offer both cover for us and their traps.”

  Seraphina’s gaze sharpened, her feline instincts enhancing her focus. She followed me forward into the mist-clad trees, each step an echo of possibility that rang through the air like a whispered promise.

  In shadows dressed by nature’s palette, we traversed a symphony of rustling leaves and distant bird calls that formed our ambient consort. The forest path was littered with potential, and I inhaled deeply, centering myself for what lay ahead.

  As we journeyed deeper into the woods, the tranquility enveloped us like a warm embrace. Sunlight filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patches of warmth upon the earth as we proceeded, every footfall purposeful and vigilant. Though the location wasn't the same, the situation reminded me of my time working alongside Gareth.