The fire softly crackled, bathing the forest in flickering orange light. Shadows danced as the gentle night breeze toyed with the campfire. It was a quiet night.

Urga's party sat in a half circle around the fire, too busy with eating dinner to engage in any small talk.

"Now that the dwarven city in the mountains has been freed from the trolls, think they will be offering work?" Hebel asked, still chewing on a piece of bread.

"Possibly. In fact, I think almost definitely." Jotid answered.

"I wonder if that dreamboat has had a hand in that." The ogre woman said before finishing what little water was left in her waterskin.

Mirna just rolled her eyes and shook her head, not believing that the large woman was still hung up on the otherworlder with the metal arm.

"What was his name again?" Jotid asked, reaching for another piece of meat that hung over the fire, but Hebel beat him to it.

"Solon." The ogre replied, looking down at her left hand and remembering his. "I've never seen a human like that. He fought like a beast, despite having a prosthetic arm."

"Hah, prosthetic." Hebel, the party's ranger, snorted. "You sure you remember it correctly? That thing is a weapon. I mean, he punched a shimmer wolf so hard its fucking eye popped out!"

"Agreed. But he didn't seem to have any other weapons on him. Perhaps he was a combat mage?" Jotid chimed in.

"Imagine. The strength of an ogre combined with the ferocity and magic of a man like him. Our kids would have legends written about them!" Urga sighed, looking up at the stars through the snow-covered branches, fantasising about a life in which she settled down and stopped being an adventurer.

"Except he has no magic." Mirna, the elven mage, finally spoke up.

The other three all looked at her with puzzled expressions.

"Nonsense. You're telling us that a man can move like that without using magic to boost his strength and speed? And hit that hard without using magic to strengthen that arm of his?" Jotid asked, stifling a chuckle.

"Yeah. And while lacking an eye to boot." Urga pointed out, and the two men nodded, remembering Solon's decorative left eye.

"Yes. I am telling you exactly that." The mage said calmly. "I can sense mana, as any good free mage can, and he has none."

"That's not possible. No one can be manaless. Maybe have very little mana or extremely poor mana control like Jotid over here." Hebel said.

Jotid kicked snow onto his friend's boot in response. "Blow me. I don't need mana control when I have swordplay to rival any mage!"

"Feels like you're not telling us something, Mirna," Urga said, looking at the elf with a raised eyebrow.

"I had hoped this wouldn't end up happening." The mage sighed, reaching for her leather bag and pulling out a blank piece of paper. She held the paper over the fire, but instead of burning, the paper began to shine, the light forming into letters in the elven language.

"What is that?" Jotid asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the display.

"A letter," Mirna replied. "Summons, to be more precise. As a free mage, I am bound by elven law to answer the summons of the Highborn. And they summoned me, along with all other free mages, to war."

Urga leapt from the log she was sitting on. "What? War? Where? Against who?"

"In the kingdom of Vatur, far North of here." The elf said, folding the paper back as the letters faded and placing it in her bag. "Against the otherworlders that threaten the elven kingdom of Vatur and the human kingdom of Marbella."

Hebel looked even more confused now that she had given the answer. "Otherworlders? As in, someone from another world?"

"I think I've heard a mention of it once or twice. Back in summer, when we were clearing the western marshes from Bramble Fiends, near one of the ancient portal gates." Jotid mumbled while rubbing his chin.

"That's just rumours. I mean, portal gates are used all the time to travel between places in the world. They don't connect to other worlds." Urga said, sitting back down. "So, what are they fighting over there? Monsters? Beasts? Demons?"

"Humans." The elf said with a cold tone. "Like the one we've met during the Ragabarn clean-up."

Silence filled the air as the three people stared at the elf, waiting, hoping that what she was telling them was just some prank. But Mirna wasn't the type to waste time and effort on humour.

"That man, Solon, he wasn't from this world?" Jotid asked.

"Correct," Mirna replied, before sighing deeply and shaking her head. "I know as little as you do. The letter is vague. The Highborn do not want to draw attention to what is going on in the fields of Vatur. Had I not met the man, I wouldn't know what they were facing either."

Hebel turned to Urga, cracking a weak smile in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Wow, Urga, you sure know how to pick 'em."

His attempt at humour fell flat as the ogre party leader remained silent. Her interest in the metal-armed man was dwarfed by the sudden worry about Mirna and the war she was summoned to participate in.

Urga knew the culture and laws of the elves well enough to understand that requests, orders or suggestions from the High Elves were not something regular elves like Mirna could dismiss, so any attempts to persuade the mage to ignore the summons would be immediately shot down by the elf without hesitation.

"How dangerous are they if the Highborn are summoning the free mages to help fight these otherworlders?" Jotid asked.

"The letter doesn't specify." The mage replied, her tone monotonous as always. Mirna's mind was already made up. She looked at her friends, who still wore expressions of concern. "But we've witnessed first-hand what one of them can do."

Hebel opened his mouth to speak, but the elf cut him off, knowing the ranger well enough to predict what he was going to say. "Unarmed."

"Unarmed?! But the metal arm-"

"Is not a weapon." The elf said with certainty.

Jotid, the party's warrior, got up and walked around the fire a few times, no longer able to sit still. The realisation that Mirna kept something seemingly so important to herself irked him. "Hold on, hold on. If you could tell he was an otherworlder and you knew about what was going on, at least knew enough to figure out who he was, up at Vatur kingdom, why didn't we deal with him immediately when we met him? Why didn't you tell us? We could've had the drop on him."

The elf nodded, understanding both the question and the man's frustration over her keeping secrets from them. "The problems of Vatur elves aren't my problems. Well, at least they weren't my problems up until earlier today when I received the letter. Back then, there was no reason to fight him or antagonise him. Revealing who he truly was to everyone else would've most likely resulted in either of the two, if not both."

The ogre woman scoffed at Mirna's first sentence. Elves truly were individualists, even when it came to their own race. An enemy of one group of elves wasn't necessarily seen as an enemy by all of the elves.

"So, what are we looking at here? A full-on war? An invasion? Are all of these 'otherworlders' like the guy we met? How many of them are there?" The party's warrior began asking once the initial shock wore off a little.

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"By the Gods, Jotid, I don't know!" Mirna shouted in exasperation. "There could be only one of them, and I'd still have to go and join the fight because that's what summons are."

"When do we head out?" Urga asked.

"'We?' We aren't. I am. There is no reason for you to risk your lives." The mage replied.

"Oh, cut the bullshit, Mirna." The party leader growled. "We've been adventuring together for half a decade. Been through thick and thin. Of course, we will accompany you here as well."

"Yeah!" both of the men shouted in unison.

The elf sighed, choosing not to argue further. "Very well. Best get some rest then, we leave at first light. Vatur is a long way from here."

While the others were crawling into a large, makeshift tent, Mirna cast a warding spell over their camp. She took a few minutes longer than usual, just looking at the tent and mulling over her decision. Truly, she had no clue what the elves of Vatur and their human allies from Marbella were up against. What little she did know was from whispers and rumours that escaped from that region into the wider world. Stories of a black fortress made of Iron, capable of punching a hole in the Home Tree of the Vatur Kingdom; stories of demons wearing human skin, immune to magic and capable of purging an entire dungeon of monsters and adventurers alike.

Had the elf not met Solon, she never would have believed even a single such rumour. If all of the otherworlders were just like him, then she would be walking towards her own demise and bringing her party along with her.

Mirna finished casting her spell and slowly joined the others in the tent.

***

"Damn it, wake her up! Wake her up, Hebel!"

"I'm working on it. She's sleeping like a bloody log!"

Urga could hear the voices of the two men shouting, but it all sounded hazy, as if it were part of the dream she was having.

"Fuck. Grab her legs, Jotid."

"Huurk! Fuck me, she's heavier than a guilty conscience."

Jotid and Hebel, each holding the ogre by a leg, pulled Urga out from the tent and began shaking her and piling snow on her face, hoping the suffocating cold would finally wake her up.

Feeling herself unable to breathe, Urga finally shot up into a seated position and tried to grab or hit either of the two men reflexively, before shaking and wiping the snow from her face.

"What the fuck are you two… doing?" She asked, looking around the forest and feeling the sun on her skin. Those were not the rays of first light. Those were the rays of almost noon.

Urga jumped to her feet, turning around and smacking the tent away with one swing. Mirna was gone, along with all of her stuff. She shouted, running her hand through her hair. "How did we sleep this long?!"

"Mirna cast a sleep spell on us," Jotid said, kicking the snow around. "Hebel was the first to wake up."

The ogre growled, clenching her fist and punching a tree so hard the cold-bitten bark cracked. "When I get my hands on her, I will rip her ears off and wear them like a fucking necklace."

The two men just watched in silence, knowing better than to get in the way of Urga's anger. The party leader spun on her heels and quickly began picking up the tent she had knocked over. "Don't just stand there! Pack up! We need to go after her."

"Do we even know the way to Vatur? I've never been that far North." Jotid said while packing his gear.

"No." Hebel sighed. "Mirna took the map with her. She really didn't want us to follow her."

"To hell with that. I'll sniff her out." Urga grumbled.

Jotid stood up, his gear packed, and patted the coin pouch that hung from his belt. "Or, we can get to the closest village as fast as possible and either buy a map or hitch a ride."

"Right. She didn't rob us." The ogre woman sighed, letting go of her frustration. "How far is the nearest town or village?"

"Not far. We could be there before noon if we really pick up the pace. I'm talking heel to ass kind of running." The ranger replied.

Urga only grew more frustrated as she tried and failed multiple times to fold the makeshift tent so she could pack. She mumbled and swore through gritted teeth.

Hebel patted her on the shoulder and helped her to her feet. "Urga, forget the tent."

"You're right. You're right." The party leader nodded, grabbing her gear and spitting on the ruined bundle of sticks and cloth as if it personally offended her. "Let's go."

***

The party arrived at a small village, just outside the forest they were in earlier, a little after noon. If it were up to Urga, they would've arrived even earlier, but the two men, athletic as they were, still couldn't keep up with the ogre.

The village they were in had no name. Even calling it a village was an overstatement, because the place was nothing more than a resting stop for trade caravans.

"Perfect. We can find a map and hitch a ride here." Urga thought as she stopped to let the other two catch up. "Alright. First, we find a map, and then someone to take us up North."

And so began the most frustratingly unsuccessful afternoon of their adventuring careers. The party went from wagon to wagon, caravan to caravan, and all they've succeeded in doing is purchasing a map.

After hours of talking to different traders, from merchants to slavers, Urga's party decided to pay the only tavern in the village a visit, hoping that at least one trader would be drunk enough to accept their offer.

The sun had begun to set when they finally left the tavern, still with no success and several silver pieces poorer. Even strong booze paid for by another could not persuade any of the traders to venture anywhere near the fields of Vatur after the elves closed the border.

"So much for the fucking Highborn wanting to keep this shit a secret. Every fucking trader from South to East avoids the area like the plague." Urga growled, sitting on the snow-covered steps in front of the tavern.

"Well, between Vatur elves turning away everyone who tries to use those roads, sometimes even seizing their wares, to the increasing numbers of bandits lurking in that area and attacking caravans that were forced to turn back, I can see how no one wants to get anywhere near the Vatur fields," Hebel said with a sigh.

"Let's ask around some more. I see some wagons and people we haven't seen earlier. Maybe one of them is money-driven enough to accept." Jotid added, trying to maintain some optimism. "If that fails, at least we can hitch a ride to the Grand Lake and go on foot from there."

Urge rubbed her temples slowly before slapping her thighs and standing up. "Right, right. Yes, let's do that."

Another attempt, same results. No matter how much money they were offered, the traders simply refused to take on such a risk. The party had almost given up and planned on switching to their backup idea when they were approached by a short, elderly man, who looked comically small next to the massive ogre woman.

"Good evening, folks. Pardon me, but my big ears could not help but catch wind of your plight." The trader said.

Urga looked down at the man with a judgmental expression. The trader was shorter than a human, but also pretty skinny. His nose was large, his eyes somewhat beady, and his ears looked like someone attached two halves of a dinner plate to a wrinkly pumpkin. "A dwarf? No. A gnome."

"Travel to the fields of Vatur is very dangerous. May I ask what business you have there?" The gnome continued.

"I assume you already know what's going on in that part of the continent, so I won't beat around the bush. Our friend is a free mage, and we are chasing after her." Urga replied without hesitation.

The old gnome chuckled. "I see. What loyal friends you are."

He paused for a moment, looking the party up and down as if mulling over a decision in his head. "And here I thought you were chasing after a pair of… pilgrims."

Hebel lifted an eyebrow, sensing that the man knew more than he let on. "Pilgrims?"

"Indeed." The trader nodded. "A metal-armed man and a desert folk woman."

Urga's eyes widened immediately. "Solon and Sheela."

"They've caused quite a ruckus in one of the desert towns, had a lot of people there out for their necks." The gnome continued.

"No, nothing like that. We're merely looking to get as close to the field of Vatur as possible, as quickly as possible." Jotid said.

"Well, I can help you with that, if the price is right, of course."

"How much do you want?" The party leader asked.

"Eight gold pieces. Two for myself and one for each of my sons. And a promise to guard us from any bandits or monsters we may come across along the way." The gnome replied.

The ogre and her two friends exchanged glances before nodding in unison. The price was steep, but reasonable. "Very well."

The gnome clapped his hands, rocking back and forth on his feet. "Great! My name is Vur'z. The young fellas you see behind me are my sons."

"Pleasure to meet you." Said the ogre. "I am Urga. These two are Jotid and Hebel."

"The pleasure is all mine. Rest for tonight. Be here when the first rooster crows, else we might leave you behind." Vur'z chuckled and nudged the ogre with his elbow, before turning on his heels and walking back to his wagon, whistling a cheerful tune as he went.

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