They continued their frantic pace of running, followed by practice or study and food, over the next two days. The terrain around them grew less heavily forested and more even. Hills smoothed out into rolling plains full of grass and the occasional thicket; farms grew more common and less isolated. Clay found himself running by grain or other crops as often as he was passing wild grass, and they were treated to the occasional obstacle of dodging around a farmer's cart or trying not to startle a passing merchant as they ran.

Yet those signs of civilization abruptly faded away as they turned along a more hard-trodden road. Ayleston had been stationed at the border with Frellsford for as long as both nations had existed, and while trade with their supposed allies was a useful thing, there were few families hardy enough to choose to live near a dangerous Lair, especially one that was as consistently lethal and dangerous as the one outside Ayleston.

Yet the trade lanes were meant to be kept open, and so a canal had been dug to ease the burden of travel. Along with the canal, Ayleston itself had been settled, with a family of [Nobles] known the kingdom wide for their stubborn determination to defend their home. Their efforts had slowed the Lair's growth over the generations, but they had never been able to stop it. Until now.

They'd nearly reached the village when Clay slowed to a walk. Olivia nearly tripped as she pulled up alongside him, looking at him in curiosity. "Did you… get tired… finally?"

Clay grinned at her and shook his head. "Not really, no, but I think the village should be just past that hill." He pointed to a spot where the canal bent around a low hill, one with a low thicket that stretched from the top of the rise along the slope leading away from the channel. "I figured that we wouldn't want to arrive at this place out of breath. Might give us a better introduction."

Olivia nodded, still catching her breath. Her [Fortitude] had increased again, but it still wasn't quite close enough to his. "All right. No complaints." She shook her head. "I guess we're hoping… that they aren't stuck outside the walls?"

He snorted. "I doubt Mitchell would have let that happen, and Baroness Ayleston should have been a bit more welcoming. We should be able to just walk in and find out what's been happening. We'll find out what the Lair is like from the others, go out on a few patrols to get the [Achievement], and then plan for our assault on the Lair itself. Just like before."

Just as he finished saying the words, a horn sounded. They both stopped, looking at each other in surprise. It had sounded just like the warning horn most villages had to alert the people about incoming monster attacks. Clay opened his mouth, and the horn sounded again, more urgently. Other sounds filtered through the air as well; shouts, the clash of steel, and the crackle of magic rose through the air. Warning bells rang, clamoring about approaching danger in discordant peals.

Clay grimaced. "Or we can see what that's about." Olivia nodded, and they both abandoned the road to run straight up the slope of the hill, following the sound of battle. She started to recite the [Chant] of Pursuing Leap, which he followed suit.

They reached the crest of the hill in moments, and the village of Ayleston lay spread out before them.

It had been built along the canal, with a low wall protecting it from the plains to the north and west. Farmland spread across the plains on the other side of the canal, with multiple farmhouses visible and fairly close together. The canal itself had several boats moored at the small docks nearby; warehouses and shops were clustered along the ribbon of water, while the village's manor looked more like a small castle than a luxurious home. Even the Shrine looked like it had been given a watchtower to search for incoming threats.

If anyone had been using it for that purpose, they would not have had to look far. On the plains west of the village, there was a seething horde of monsters approaching the place. Each one looked like some kind of rat-like creature, most of whom were about the size of a [Youth]. Others were larger, their forms misshapen and bulging with muscles or odd growths. Some even seemed to have additional arms or heads, and all were baying for blood as they advanced. They carried swords, knives, spears, and bows, all of which were raised in preparation for war. Even from this distance, Clay could see the red glow in their eyes.

They faced a small group of people that were retreating back across the open ground, figures that Clay could recognize already despite the distance. Mitchell, Herb, Scott, and Hadley were all sending waves of arrows, ice, and fire back at the horde, but they seemed to know better than to try to hold their position. There were others with them, [Nobles] wearing fine armor and wielding swords and shields, but many of them were being helped back to the still-open gates. [Guards] were milling about on the walls, obviously uncertain and unready to face the horde coming for them.

Neither he nor Olivia hesitated. They dashed down the slope, running straight for the oncoming monsters with all the speed their weary legs could manage. Olivia started to spin her sling, and Clay brought out a stone that he'd picked up in an effort to match her technique. The ground seemed to speed by his feet as they closed on the running battle.

The monsters failed to catch sight of them. Their eyes were full of hatred for the [Commoners] and [Nobles] before them, and the sight of the open gates was too grand an opportunity to miss. They surged forward, driving Mitchell and the others backwards, even as they fell by the dozen. With hundreds of the things closing in, they could afford the losses.

At least they could until their doom reached them.

Clay hurled the rock skyward, followed by Olivia's slingstone a moment later. The Pursuing Leap was completed a moment later, and he was snatched skyward in the stone's wake. He saw some of the [Nobles] suddenly look up, tracking his flight; Hadley actually pointed at him, her mouth open in a shout. Some of the rats appeared to notice him as well; there were shrieks and screams as a few of them started to turn and point their weapons upwards.

They were too late. Clay released the [Chant] and began the Flame-Tongued Song. Olivia's arc had been a little different than his; they would come down separated from one another. He tried to ignore the fact that they were going to be isolated in the middle of a monster horde and focused on the spot where he was going to land.

The rats were waiting for him, but that did not mean they were ready.

He smashed down among them like the stone from a catapult. A shrieking rat with a pair of oversized knives was squashed flat beneath him; three more died in quick succession as he stabbed, slashed, and crushed them with his spear. Momentum carried him forward, and he ripped and tore through their ranks without slowing down. Rats threw themselves at him, frothing at the mouth and hacking with swords, or twitching as they wielded jagged, filth-coated spears. Others were archers riddled with pustules that burst as he struck them, already trying to draw arrows to fire.

Clay gave them no time to fight back. The slightest hesitation would give them the opening to swamp him, and he couldn't afford that mistake. Anything that stood before him died while it was still raising its weapons, and he pushed past the corpses before they'd had the chance to fall. Notifications scrolled past even as he fought his way forward, aiming for the spot where Olivia's scythe had become a lethal whirlwind, reaping a terrible harvest in the monsters just ahead of him.

{Slavering Fang slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Slavering Fang slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Foaming Fang slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Foaming Fang slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Trembling Claw slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Sickened Scourge slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Sickened Scourge slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Sickened Scourge slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Diseased Scourge slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 10}

{Trembling Claw slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Will has increased by 1! Valor has increased by 1!}

{Achievement Reinforced! Paragon: All skills gain 40% effectiveness around fellow heroes.}

Clay acknowledged the sudden milestone with a detached feeling of satisfaction, even as the horde of creatures closed in around him. Their shock at his arrival was wearing off; more and more of them were closing in around him, even as he continued to push his way forward. He thrust his spearpoint into the chest of a rat as it foamed at the mouth. When he yanked it back, the butt of the weapon smashed the skull of another that was trying to slash at the back of his legs.

He pivoted and twisted, trying to shorten the reach on his weapon as the space constricted around him. The weapons of the horde began to make themselves felt. A crooked spear punched into his armor at the shoulder; an arrow skipped past his cheek, opening a small cut. Others crowded in, their blades flashing and their teeth gnashing at him.

Then he completed the Flame-Tongued Song, and the area in front of him was washed away in a wave of flame.

Clay swept the fire back and forth in front of him, sending the monsters reeling away as more and more of them were set alight. Their screams were engulfed in the roar of the inferno, and he spun, trying to force the horde backwards. A blade bit at his calf through his armor, and he grunted despite himself. The flames cut off, leaving him in the middle of the burning wreckage of the monsters and the smoke rising from their corpses. Even more notifications rose, almost too fast for him to see all but the most important.

{Slavering Fang slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Achievement Gained! Ratsbane: 5% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 10% versus Slavering Fangs.}

{Slavering Fang slain!}

{Foaming Fang slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Shaking Claw slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Achievement Reinforced! Ratsbane: 10% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 20% versus Slavering Fangs and Shaking Claws.}

{Shaking Claw slain!}

{Foaming Fang slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Achievement Reinforced! Ratsbane: 15% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 30% versus Slavering Fangs, Shaking Claws, and Foaming Fangs.}

{Trembling Claw slain! Soul increases by 30}

Clay turned and killed the rat that had cut him. He grunted as an arrow glanced off his helmet. When he looked back towards the direction where Olivia was fighting, he found a line of archers facing him, their arrows already nocked and ready to loose. Though he knew it would be too late, he started another [Chant], this time the Carol of Wind.

Before he could brace himself to dodge, however, a salvo of icicle spears tore through their ranks, killing them and a number of others in a line between him and Olivia. He grinned and charged forward, hearing the rats to either side and behind him attempting to close with him before he could reach the weakened part of the horde.

They failed. He slammed into the remnants of the ratfolk in front of him, and he tore his way through their ranks in a brutal assault. They gave way in panic, backing up or scrambling away. Moments later, Olivia ripped through their ranks going in the other direction, her armor marked in a dozen places and her blade still wet with fresh blood.

She nodded to him as they passed one another. Clay's grin turned vicious as he charged into the face of her pursuers, even as she launched herself into his. Ratfolk fell and died, as the two [Commoners] covered each other's back. Shocked, the ratfolk fell back, unwilling to face them head on.

Clay reversed course, and once again passed Olivia heading in the opposite direction. Again and again, they continued to charge back and forth, filling the smoldering clearing in the middle of the horde with more and more corpses. Olivia unleashed a shower of ice yet again a moment later, punching her way through another group of ratfolk with a victorious cry.

He was still finishing his own [Chant] when another shower of arrows hit them. Most missed or were turned aside by the armor, but at least a handful pierced far enough to make him and Olivia stumble. Clay looked up and saw another line of ratfolk archers, this time carefully protected by a double-line of their blade-wielding brethren. Their malice and satisfaction seemed clear as they pulled more arrows from their quivers.

Then Clay finished the Carol, and he paused. As the [Chant] fell into place around him, he drove his spear point first into the ground and drew out his own bow. The ratfolk fired, focusing on him as a stationary target, but the Carol scattered their arrows. Other ratfolk, screaming and screeching, hurled themselves at him, only to be carried away into the air.

Clay ignored them and began drawing back his bowstring. He fired arrow after arrow into the distant archers, picking them off with cruel precision. Those ratfolk foolish enough to have leapt at him began returning to earth with dull thuds around him, the impacts emphasizing the death he had brought among them.

{Sickened Scourge slain! Soul increases by 5}

{Achievement Reinforced! Ratsbane: 20% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 40% versus Slavering Fangs, Shaking Claws, Foaming Fangs, and Sickened Scourges.}

Stolen story; please report.

{Sickened Scourge slain!}

{Diseased Scourge slain! Soul increases by 30}

{Diseased Scourge slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Trembling Claw slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Shaking Claw slain!}

{Shaking Claw slain!}

{Foaming Fang slain!}

{Slavering Fang slain!}

{Trembling Claw slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Achievement Reinforced! Ratsbane: 25% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 50% versus Slavering Fangs, Shaking Claws, Foaming Fangs, Sickened Scourges, and Trembling Claws.}

A shrieking ratfolk threw itself at him, its spear extended for a desperate stab. He leaned out of the way to allow it to be carried up into the sky. Olivia shot by, using the wind to spin up into the air; a moment later she unleashed another wave of ice, and a distant roar suddenly cut short. Clay grunted as she hurled a slingstone downward and then shot down among the nearby ratfolk a heartbeat later.

Clay paused as a massive four-armed, two-headed creature tore itself out of the ranks of the horde and hurled itself towards him. It carried a blade in each hand, and the foam at its mouth was tinged with blood. All four of its eyes were tinged with madness, and its reach seemed long enough to reach past the Carol's wind to carve into him.

He watched as it hurled itself towards him, ready to rend and destroy. Clay grabbed one of his few remaining arrows from Pellsglade, drew it back, and loosed.

The ratfolk took the arrow directly in between two of its eyes. It charged forward another two strides, seemingly unphased. Clay drew another arrow, his eyes widening as he put another shot into the thing's second head. To his surprise, the ratfolk continued its mad charge as if it hadn't noticed.

Then, just as it reached him, its eyes clouded over. Clay stepped to the side as it collapsed to the ground. The wind lifted it gently, and he took another shot with a normal arrow at a distant archer.

{Frothing Fang slain! Soul increases by 60}

{Diseased Scourge slain! Soul increases by 15}

{Achievement Reinforced! Ratsbane: 30% increase to all skills and damage against ratfolk. Bonus increases to 60% versus Slavering Fangs, Shaking Claws, Foaming Fangs, Sickened Scourges, Trembling Claws, and Diseased Scourges.}

There was a rush of heat from the side, and he looked over to see that Olivia was now surrounded by a swirling cloud of ash. Obviously, she had finished the Madrigal; he could hear ratfolk choking and gasping as it rolled forward. A few of them were hurling spears or shooting arrows, but they were firing blind.

He looked away, searching for another of the larger ratfolk to shoot. A flicker of movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye, and he reacted on instinct. Clay threw himself backwards, just as a blur of motion shot through his cocoon of wind and slammed into his chest, piercing one of the plates in his armor.

Clay grunted as the arrow drove a spike of pain into his chest. The wound wasn't deep, but it was enough to break his focus on the [Chant]. He looked in the direction of the shot and saw another massive ratfolk standing amidst the smaller monsters. It held a massive bow and was covered in bulging pustules, fluid-filled sacs that seemed to shiver and pulse as its muscles tensed. As he watched, it drew another arrow the size of a spear from its quiver and started to fit it to its bowstring.

He didn't give it the chance to draw. His own bow came up, and he put a Pellsglade broadhead straight into the thing's throat. Its eyes went horribly wide as it reached up towards the shaft, and he put a second, more normal, arrow through one of its eyes. The thing went over backwards, and an explosion of noxious fluid coated the surrounding ratfolk in foulness a moment later.

{Pestilential Scourge slain! Soul increases by 60}

Clay grimaced as he yanked the arrow out of his armor, tossing it away. A burning sensation was starting to spread across his chest that didn't bode well, but he ignored it as he stowed his bow again. There were still plenty of the ratfolk around, but they seemed reluctant to attack now, as if by killing their betters, he'd made them afraid. Just in case, Clay began the Canticle of Ice, in case they tried to strike him again from out of his reach.

Unfortunately, not all of them seemed so worried. He heard a chittering howl from his right and stepped back towards his spear. Clay yanked it out of the ground and turned to face the new threat.

It was another of the apparently larger threats, with drooling blue fluid, rolling eyes, and a dark spear slick with poison. The thing trembled and jerked as it rushed at him, moving in jumps that seemed like they should have been hard to track. When it lunged at him, it seemed to cross five strides in the space of a heartbeat.

Yet Clay was ready for it. He moved to the side and deflected the thrust, pushing the deadly point out past his shoulder. The lanky ratfolk's eyes jerked wide, but before it could recoil, he slammed the point of his spear into its narrow chest. His spear sunk deep, cracking through the monster's ribcage, and Clay twisted it with a sound like snapping branches before he ripped it free.

{Twitching Claw slain! Soul increases by 60}

As the greater ratfolk fell, the smaller ones surged forward. He braced himself, ready to fend them off, only for them to scatter as the ground abruptly trembled beneath them. The ratfolk stumbled, their red eyes going wide and panicked, just before a barrage of ice spears slammed into them.

Clay looked over to see Mitchell and the others charging into the horde, cutting down ratfolk in a wave of violence. The monsters wavered for a moment as they fell back from the unexpected assault. Then they abruptly began to withdraw, the red light fading from their eyes as they turned and ran for the plains west of the village.

He killed the few that came near him, his eyes searching the milling horde for Olivia. She stood a few strides away, the space around her littered with corpses. Clay reached her a moment later, only to pull up short. Her eyes were fixed on the retreating horde of ratfolk, and he recognized the words of the Anthem of Thunder on her lips.

A part of him wanted to join her, but the ache in his chest convinced him to let her finish the job. Instead, he started the [Chant] for Pure Touch, following it with Clean Heart after that. The burn in his chest lessened slightly, but not much.

He heard a throat clear, and turned to see Mitchell and the others waiting for him, their eyes worried. "Hey. Sorry we were late."

Mitchell shook his head, his eyes weary but still focused. "Never mind that, Sir Clay. Are you all right, the rats—"

"Aren't going to be a problem now." Clay heard Olivia finish the Anthem, and he grinned as the first flash of lightning lit the terrain. He raised his voice over the rolling thunder that followed. "What happened?"

Behind him, the lightning continued to fall, with the others flinching back in surprise with each ear-splitting blast. They exchanged an unreadable look, and then Mitchell had to shout to be heard. "We can talk about it later. We need to get you seen to."

Clay frowned. "I already cleared the poison."

Herb shook his head. "It's not poison. It's something worse." The looks on the others' faces confirmed the [Guard]'s words, and Clay grimaced as he realized that the burn in his chest was still there. "Let's get you back to the manor. We can talk there."

"We pushed a bit too far, too fast." Mitchell shook his head, a dull look of shame and discouragement in his eyes. They were sitting in the [Noble]'s home, though Baroness Ayleston hadn't introduced herself yet. Apparently, she and some other members of her family had been out with Mitchell and the others when they'd run into the hunting party from the Lair, and she was seeing to their care first.

The [Guard] continued in a low voice. "We'd been making progress, and I wanted to catch up to where we expected to be, but when we went down one of the tunnels…"

He trailed off, and Scott spoke up. The [Farmer] wasn't the strongest of the [Commoners] who had volunteered, but he was dependable, even if he was a Calmford. "We almost ran into the center of the Lair itself. The Guardian must have caught sight of us and sent those things to chase us home."

Hadley broke in, her voice a little defensive. "It's not like you could have known, Mitchell. All of those tunnels look alike. How could you have expected to know it wasn't a regular burrow?"

Mitchell looked at her, his expression firm. "We should have been more careful. If Sir Clay hadn't arrived…"

He trailed off, letting their imaginations fill in the details. Clay coughed lightly into his hand. He looked over at Olivia, who was looking jubilant, but also more than a little uncomfortable. "Why did you think you were behind schedule?"

Herb answered from where he was mixing a variety of things together into a collection of poultices and potions. "The rats here each carry a kind of disease. Hard to get over." He handed Olivia a potion.

Mitchell nodded. "Our first patrols went fairly well, especially when we realized we could crush the things in their holes using Drums of the Earth. All the same, they landed a few hits on us. Nothing we couldn't work through."

Hadley grimaced. "At least, that's what we thought. We spent the whole next day trying not to die. It was awful." She shuddered in a way that did not give Clay a good feeling about his future.

As Herb handed Clay a potion, Mitchell took up the story again. "So we pushed a bit harder once we recovered. We made a lot of progress against the middle ranks, but once again, they landed a few hits. For every day we'd be out there, we'd spend one or two recovering. It was maddening."

"Not to mention it was really unpleasant." Herb motioned for Clay to drink, which he did reluctantly. The smell of the thing was even worse than the medicine Andrew had cooked up to fight the shrooms, and the taste was like he'd accidentally drunk from an inkwell. As he gagged it down, Herb continued. "Like we said, each rat type has its own disease, and they all hurt."

Scott nodded, his expression glum. "The ones with the foam on their lips cause something like a mix of… what did you call it, Herb?"

"Like a mix between lockjaw and the froth." He shook his head. "The archers give you something like a rash so bad you bleed. The bigger ones get worse. You break out in boils and sores, sometimes running along your throat so you can't breathe well."

The burning sensation on his chest had taken on new meaning. Clay glanced at Olivia, who was fingering a spot where something had pierced her armor. "What about the ones with the spears?"

Herb grunted. "Something like the shakes and the runs. The bigger they are, the worse it gets."

Mitchell shook his head. "So you can imagine why we were running a bit behind. The Baroness offered to help us clear some of the terrain, but now half her family is down, and it's my fault." He looked Clay in the eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir Clay. I've failed."

Clay shook his head. He tried to ignore the way one of his hands was starting to tremble a little. Nausea bubbled in his gut. "Not yet, you haven't." He coughed again; his throat felt raw. "So. We're going to rest a day, and then hit the Lair itself. Do you feel like we can get to the Lair quickly?"

The [Guard] nodded, his face serious. "Yes, Sir Clay, but… are you sure you won't—"

"We'll be fine, Sir Mitchell." Clay surreptitiously glanced in Herb's direction, who gave him a hesitant nod. Surely his [Fortitude] and [Experiences] would help out, right? "For now, get the rest that you need. Herb, get me and Olivia through this, and we'll make sure nobody has to fight those things ever again."

Herb nodded, and Clay stood up. He made sure not to wobble as he helped Olivia up; she already looked like she was suffering. Clay gave the others a smile he hoped wasn't as shaky as it felt. "Now, I think we're going to go rest for a bit. We'll talk again tomorrow."

The others nodded, their expressions serious. They exchanged looks as Clay and Olivia headed for the room set aside for them. Herb followed after, carrying an assortment of medical tools and foul-smelling poultices that weren't promising. Clay glanced at him and spoke softly. "How bad is it going to be?"

Herb kept his voice just as quiet. "The Baroness was surprised that any of us survived it the first day. Most [Commoners] don't." He studied Clay for a moment. "Most of us only got one or two of them at a time. We definitely haven't dealt with having them all at once this way. It's going to be rough."

Clay nodded, feeling his determination firm up despite the pain now running through his muscles. He looked at Olivia, who was sweating now. "All right. Do your best, and we'll get through this just fine."

The less that Clay could say about the following night, the better.

At the very least, the preparations that Herb had made helped. The poultices helped his spasming muscles to relax and chilled the burning, boil-filled rashes. Bundles of herbs lowered the fever, and potions stilled some of the more… unpleasant tendencies he and Olivia had to deal with.

Even with that help, though, Clay emerged the following morning a worn and weary soul. He paused in the hallway and looked down at Herb, who had slumped against the far wall and was sleeping there, a blanket gathered around him. Clay stepped lightly around him and moved towards the small room where he had spoken with the others the day before. His legs were still a little weak, but at least he didn't feel like he was about to collapse or soil himself at any moment.

Mitchell was already awake and looking over a map. The [Guard] looked a little tired as well, as if he'd had a rough night, too. He looked up in surprise, as if he hadn't expected to see anyone else so early. "Sir Clay?"

Clay gave the [Guard] a weary look. "I know the title is the proper thing, but I'm just as uncomfortable with it as you are when we're alone." He half-fell into a nearby seat with a groan. "Especially this morning. I feel like death warmed over."

The [Guard] snorted. "You're still doing a lot better than the rest of us were on our first day." He looked back at the room. "And Syr Olivia?"

"She's… resting." Clay winced. "It all hit her a lot harder than it did me. I think she'll probably need the full day to recover." He felt a brief moment of gratitude that she had worked so often on her [Fortitude]. The only thing that had been worse than experiencing the diseases had been watching her thrash with the pain.

Mitchell nodded in understanding. His expression was serious. "You're sure that you want to assault the Lair tomorrow, then?" Clay nodded, and the [Guard] grimaced. "As long as you know what you're getting into."

Clay tilted his head, looking down at the map on the table. "What's the terrain like? You were mentioning something about burrows and tunnels."

The other man leaned forward, pointing to a portion of the map west of the village. It was surrounded by a series of X marks that had been added later. "The center of the Lair actually seems to be underground."

Clay blinked. "Underground? Was there a mine?"

Mitchell shrugged. "We haven't gotten close enough to see, but it could also be that the rats have burrowed enough that they actually submerged the place. Either way, we can't get at it from the surface."

He nodded, and the [Guard] continued, sweeping his finger around the spot. "The ratfolk like to hide underground. Even the smaller ones seem to enjoy hollowing out a small tunnel to rest in, or ambush from. It's important to watch for them as we get close. We've cleared out a lot of them, but there's always more."

As he drew his finger closer, his voice grew a bit more solemn. "There's a lot of wild grass out there, but when you get close to the center, it all kind of… stops. Lots of bare patches of ground, and some kind of plant that looks like tree roots without a trunk. The holes get bigger and move deeper until they form a kind of cave system. That's where we found the Lair itself."

Clay grimaced, trying to picture the situation. "That doesn't sound easy to deal with."

Mitchell shrugged. "At least the bigger ratfolk are larger than us, so we don't have to worry about the tunnels getting too tight." He shook his head. "At the same time, it's easy to get lost down there, if you aren't careful, and the ratfolk have been busy. They haven't just dug tunnels. There are gates and barricades too, and they like to call in reinforcements."

"Which will probably come from every possible side tunnel to ambush us." Clay frowned. "What does the center look like? Is there a tower?"

The [Guard] shook his head. "Nothing like that. It's more like an underground fort of some kind. The walls there are made of stone, and the gates were a lot thicker." He grimaced. "I'm still not sure how the Guardians caught sight of us. We were still standing just outside the door when things went bad."

"Maybe they have some kind of extra senses, then." Clay's eyes narrowed. A plan was already forming in his head. "All right. I think we can make sure to draw at least some of them out of those tunnels, at least. From there, we'll see what we can do about the fortifications."

Mitchell nodded, and he opened his mouth to continue when a woman walked in. Her clothing marked her as a [Noble], even though her face was littered with pockmarks. She stopped and stared at Clay for a moment, her eyes widening slightly. "Sir Clay?"

Clay nodded and stood. "Baroness Ayleston?" She nodded, and he bowed. "I apologize for our late arrival. Things have been… busy lately."

Her lips quirked for a moment, and she shook her head. "I suppose I should be thankful that you arrived at all. Things were not looking good there for a moment." She paused, glancing at Mitchell. "May I ask how long you will stay here?"

"Until the end of the week at least." Clay saw a flash of disappointment cross her expression, and pressed on before she could respond. "We'll need the rest of today to recover, but tomorrow we should be able to destroy the Lair itself. After that, from what we've seen, we'll probably need a day or two to recover. I hope that will be all right with you?"

The Baroness blinked. A flicker of disbelief went through her eyes, but she nodded slowly. "Yes. Of course." She shook her head. "Are you sure you are ready to destroy it, Sir Clay? Your companions here felt confident, but I don't think any of us expected what happened yesterday."

Clay shrugged. "Nothing in life is certain, but one way or another, the Lair will fall." He glanced at Mitchell, who was still staring at the map out of misguided shame. "The preparations my friends here have made will be crucial to finishing things. No matter what might have happened, they have done excellent work."

Ayleston blinked. She frowned slightly. "If you say so, Sir Clay." Then she brushed a hint of dirt from her clothes. "In any case, keep me apprised of your progress. Though most of my family is unable to help, now, I would still appreciate a warning in case things go wrong."

Her voice sharpened near the end, but Clay simply nodded. "I will, Baroness Ayleston." She bowed, a gesture he returned, and then departed. He waited for a few moments before looking back at Mitchell.

The [Guard] seemed unsettled now. "You're sure we are ready for this?"

Clay nodded. "Better to have done with it. After it's over, we can just clean up what needs to be done, and then head home." He gave the man a smile. "Or at least, you can. Olivia and I have another place we need to take care of."

Mitchell nodded seriously. "Of course." He stared down at the map for a moment, stroking his chin. Then he leaned forward. "If we just want to hit the Lair, then the best approach is probably from this angle. It avoids a lot of the places we haven't cleared, and we should have decent visibility…"

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