The sun hadn't fully risen when the bell above the Redhaven Guild tower rang out, clear and solemn. Its chime cut through the morning fog like a blade. Liam and Tomlin stood at the edge of the courtyard with their packs slung over their shoulders, gear tightly strapped, and nerves simmering just beneath the surface.
"This it, then?" Tomlin said, adjusting the grip on his new spear — a sharp steel head on a smooth ashwood shaft, fresh from the blacksmith. "Our second mission?"
Liam nodded, his violet eyes fixed on the gathering group near the guild's arched entrance. "Looks like it. And this time it's not just a cave and a spider queen."
Tomlin gave a short laugh. "Yeah. This time it's goblins and a village about to get trampled."
The two of them had barely recovered from their last fight, but there was no time to waste. Word had spread fast the night before: the village of Willowshade was in danger. A horde of goblins, possibly with hobgoblins among them, had been spotted moving through the eastern woods. The Guild needed bodies — and quickly.
"Volunteers for the Willowshade Defense — step forward!" a guild officer shouted, her voice echoing across the courtyard.
Liam and Tomlin stepped forward at once, joining about twenty other rookies gathering near the stone steps. Most looked like they'd only just earned their Bronze tags. Some were whispering nervously, others adjusting armor or testing bowstrings to keep their hands busy.
"Names and squads will be assigned shortly," the officer continued. "You will serve under a Silver-ranked Hunter. Follow orders, keep your heads down, and maybe you'll come back in one piece."
Tomlin elbowed Liam. "Silver rank. That's serious."
Liam shrugged. "Good. We'll need someone serious if the horde's as big as they say."
A tall man in a gray cloak stepped forward. His silver-trimmed armor caught the early light, and the blade across his back looked older than any of them. He had a calm presence, like the eye of a storm.
"That's Sir Merek," someone whispered. "Fought in the Hollowpine Rebellion."
Tomlin raised an eyebrow. "And now he's stuck with us?"
A younger scribe began calling out names.
"Squad Four — Sir Merek commanding. Liam of Tharn's Hollow. Tomlin of Tharn's Hollow. Lina of Crestvale. Fendril of Stonegate. Jassa of Riverbend. Hilda of Redhaven."
As each name was called, the six of them stepped forward and exchanged quick, uncertain glances.
Lina was wiry, with sharp features and a quiver slung over her back. She looked like she'd rather be scouting alone than standing in a crowd. Fendril was tall and broad, with a greatsword strapped lazily across his back and a cocky smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes. Jassa was pale and jittery, her short knives worn and ready. Hilda stood solid as a wall, her double-headed axe across her shoulders like it weighed nothing.
Tomlin broke the silence first. "I'm Tomlin. This is Liam." He gave a quick nod. "We're new. Guess we all are."
"Lina," the archer replied. "Let's hope none of us die too fast."
"Fendril," the swordsman said with a grin. "And don't jinx it."
"Jassa," came a mutter from the small girl.
"Hilda," said the axe-wielder plainly. "Nice to meet you."
Sir Merek didn't speak. He only gestured for the squad to fall in. His gaze passed over each of them like a silent judgment, lingering only slightly longer on Liam.
The group moved out of the courtyard and into the open square behind the guildhouse where preparations were underway. Horses were being saddled. Supply carts were loaded. The air was thick with tension — and the scent of oiled leather and steel.
Tomlin leaned closer to Liam. "Friendly bunch."
"They're nervous," Liam replied. "Can't blame them."
As they waited for final orders, they caught snippets of conversation from nearby squads.
"…I hear Willowshade's already lost half their militia."
"…hobgoblins, not just regular ones."
"…Silver tags watching from the cliffs. Real muscle."
Eventually, the guild officer returned.
"You leave at first light tomorrow. Your squad will travel with two others, forming a forward scouting unit. Gear up, sharpen your blades, and get some sleep — it may be your last peaceful night for a while."
As the squads began to break apart and move toward their assigned quarters, Liam and Tomlin followed their new team to a shared barracks hall — six bunks, a cold stone floor, and one flickering lantern.
Tomlin threw his pack down beside a cot. "Cozy."
Fendril flopped down on his bunk like he hadn't a care in the world. "Better than a goblin trench."
Lina checked her bowstring without saying a word. Jassa inspected her throwing knives. Hilda started cleaning the edge of her axe, slow and methodical.
No one said much more that night. They were strangers — all of them — drawn together by the promise of coin, duty, or something to prove.
As Liam lay in his bunk staring at the wooden ceiling, he could already hear the storm outside starting to roll in.
Tomorrow, they'd ride to a village they'd never seen… to fight monsters they didn't yet understand.
And ready or not, they were in it together.