The Adventurers Guild erupted with a controlled chaos that stood in sharp contrast to Sharwood's muted apprehension. A behemoth of timber and stone, the building seemed to breathe with the collective energy of its occupants. The ground floor sprawled like a living organism, rough-hewn tables clustered with adventurers who spoke in a language of hushed urgency and barely contained excitement.

  William inhaled deeply, the air thick with a primal cocktail of scents, woodsmoke mingling with stale ale, underlaid by the metallic whisper of dried blood and sweat. Well at least they know how to work hard and play hard, he thought, all in a days work.

  A grizzled sentinel behind the counter looked up, his face a map of scars and wrinkles that told stories of battles long past. His eyes, sharp despite their weathered surroundings, locked onto Julia. “Julia! Edward blazed through here like a storm. Rushed up to speak with Lucas. Trouble brewing in the Tallenwood?”

  Julia's response was crisp, professional, with an edge that suggested more than mere routine concern. “We need to speak with Lucas and Captain Oswald. Immediately.”

  The old man's weathered fingers, callused and curved like talons, drummed against the leather-bound ledger. His expression darkened, a storm gathering behind eyes that had seen countless warnings become reality. “That does not bode well. They're both upstairs. Strategy room. Not in the best of moods, there has been a string of reports earlier today, none of it good.”

  The stairs protested their ascent, each wooden step creaking a warning. The boisterous sounds of the common room faded, replaced by a silence so tense it felt like a physical presence. William could almost taste the anticipation, sharp, metallic, expectant.

  Another day at the office, he mused, if your office happens to be preparing for potential apocalypse.

  The strategy room was a monument to pragmatic efficiency. A massive rectangular table dominated the space, its surface etched with the scars of countless war councils. Detailed maps covered the walls, an intricate tapestry of troop movements, fortifications, and enemy territories. Coloured markers and string tracked potential invasion routes, a complex strategic puzzle waiting to be solved.

  Edward stood at the table's head, his back ramrod straight, voice low and intense as he recounted their forest encounter. Two men listened with laser focused attention.

  Lucas, a compact man who looked more like a merchant than a warrior, sat with an intelligence that radiated from his keen eyes. Despite his soft hands and receding hairline, he carried himself with an authority that suggested he understood war through strategy rather than combat.

  Captain Oswald, by contrast, was martial might personified. Plate armour gleamed like a second skin, each scratch and dent a testament to battles survived. A longsword hung at his side, not as an ornament, but as a natural extension of the man himself. His face was a map of conflicts, eyes hard and unwavering, reflecting a lifetime of witnessing humanity's darker impulses.

  “Julia. Good. William was with us in Tallenwood,” Edward announced, gesturing them forward. “He can corroborate our findings.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  William felt exposed, like a data point in a presentation he'd never prepared for. Lucas and Oswald's gazes swept over him, calculating, assessing, measuring his worth in this moment of potential crisis.

  “The goblin attacked me,” William began, channelling his professional demeanour. “Small, green-skinned. Crude weapon. It wasn’t heavily armed. No armour, just tattered leather. Seemed more equipped for speed and stealth than for a direct assault. More scout than fighter, but still dangerous.” He indicated his bandaged leg. “Learned that the hard way.”

  Julia and Edward provided precise details, eight goblins encountered, seven eliminated, one escaped. Similarly equipped. Each word added another layer to the growing tension in the room.

  As Edward continued his report, Lucas shuffled through a stack of parchments on the table, his fingers tracing the hastily scrawled notes from earlier that day. The morning had brought a parade of adventurers, each with similar yet fragmented tales that had set the guild on edge.

  “Tell them about the morning reports,” Lucas interrupted, looking up at Edward. His voice carried a weight of accumulated concern. “Before you arrived, we'd already received troubling intelligence.”

  Captain Oswald nodded, his stern face growing more grave. “Three separate adventuring parties came in before noon. Each reported unusual goblin activity in different sectors of the Tallenwood.” He spread out a map, pointing to various marked locations. “Here, near the northern ridge. Here, close to the western watershed. And here, along the eastern forest edge.”

  Lucas pulled forward a ledger, his finger running down a column of notes. “Typically, goblins operate in small, isolated groups. Territorial. Rarely coordinated.” He looked up, making eye contact with each person in the room. “But these reports suggested something different. Consistent movement patterns. Signs of communication between groups that shouldn't normally interact.”

  “We were preparing to dispatch a reconnaissance team,” he continued, his voice tight. “To confirm these initial reports and assess the potential threat level.” A sardonic smile touched his lips. “But it seems you three have already provided that confirmation.”

  William listened, his analytical mind working overtime. This isn't random, he thought. These are coordinated movements. Almost like... data points in a larger pattern.

  Edward leaned forward, his report taking on new significance in light of the morning's intelligence. “The group Julia and I encountered—eight goblins, operating with a level of coordination unusual for their kind. The one that escaped... it wasn't just running. It felt like it was reporting back.”

  Captain Oswald's hand unconsciously moved to the hilt of his sword. “Reconnaissance. Probing our defences.”

  “Exactly,” Julia added, her voice sharp with understanding. “They're mapping our responses, testing our reaction times, our defensive capabilities.”

  William felt a chill run down his spine. “You think the Dark Legion is behind this?”

  Lucas and Oswald exchanged a look, a communication that spoke volumes without a word being spoken.

  “It's the most logical conclusion,” Oswald said finally. “Neverus doesn't just attack. He strategizes. Gathers intelligence. Weakens defences before the main assault.”

  The room fell silent, the weight of potential invasion pressing down on them. The map on the table suddenly looked less like a strategic document and more like a battlefield waiting to be carved up.

  “Sharwood,” Lucas murmured, “controls the eastern passes. If they can breach our defences here...”

  “The road to the capital lies open,” William completed the thought, understanding the strategic importance instantly.

  The earlier sense of tension now transformed into something more acute, a razor's edge of preparation and fear. The goblin encounters were no longer isolated incidents. They were the first whispers of a coming storm.

  “We're well-defended,” Lucas said, though his voice lacked the conviction of true confidence. “We have a strong garrison, sturdy walls, and the support of the Adventurers Guild. But...”

  The unfinished sentence hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the fragility of their current peace.