They took a collection quest and headed out of the Guild, following the main road toward the west side of the city.
"Nicole," Gareth said as they walked, "how long have you lived in Northwind City?"
"My whole life." She straightened up a little, proud of it. "I know every street here. Could walk them blind."
"Then you'd know... the notable women around the city? Noble daughters, strong female mercenaries, that kind of thing."
Nicole shot him a look. "Why do you want to know that?"
"Just curious. Seen a lot of capable-looking women on the street since I got here. Is that normal for this city?"
"Huh." She didn't look fully convinced, but answered anyway. "Most famous women in Northwind are the Count's daughters, obviously. He's got a few. But that's not the kind of thing regular people get to see up close."
Count Yvon had multiple daughters. Gareth filed that away.
"Any commoners worth knowing, then?"
She thought about it. "There's a mercenary named Luna Isis. Two years older than me, an 8th Circle mage, and yeah, she's gorgeous. Half the men in the Guild have tried their luck with her at some point. She's cold about it though, doesn't give anyone the time of day."
Something clicked into place. That was the woman from the carriage.
"You know her?"
"Not really. She works alone mostly, only teams up with people she already trusts, and she's strong enough that she doesn't need much help." Nicole's mouth twisted. "Someone like us, fresh off breaking into Tier-2, she wouldn't even look our way."
"You don't like her huh?"
"She's arrogant. That's all."
By then they'd passed through the west gate and out into open country.
Deadwood Forest sat roughly thirty miles out, a stretch of dead and dying trees rising out of poor soil, bare trunks standing like a field of gray tombstones. Wind Wolves ran the place.
For the next three days, they hunted.
Tier-1 Wind Wolves were nothing to Gareth, he could've dropped them bare-handed without even touching Aura. But drawing attention wasn't the plan, so he played the part: an ordinary Tier-2 Knight, drawing his sword at an unremarkable pace, letting his Aura flare exactly as much as it should and no more, occasionally letting a wolf slip away like a man his level actually would.
Even holding back, Nicole noticed.
"You sure you're only Tier-2?" she asked on the third evening, the two of them sitting on a boulder at the forest's edge, sorting through the day's kills. "You move faster than me. Hit harder too."
"Basics. You'll get there with a few more years of training." He waved it off.
She let it go, dropping her attention back to the pile of wolf corpses.
Three days' work had netted them twenty-five Tier-1 Wind Wolves and three Tier-2s. Six Tier-1 cores, twenty-five Tier-1 pelts, three Tier-2 pelts, four Tier-1 mutant bones, one Tier-2 mutant bone, and a scattering of herbs. Market value, roughly six gold coins total.
"We're rich!" Nicole was grinning ear to ear, cradling the magic cores like they might vanish if she let go. "Split even, that's three gold each!"
"Not bad." Gareth grinned back.
Magic cores held the concentrated energy of a beast's Aura or Mana, valuable to alchemists for potions and enchanting. Mutant bones were rarer still, dense with raw power, prized by blacksmiths. Both usually came from Tier-3 beasts and up. For Tier-1 and Tier-2 game, the drop rate barely cleared ten percent.
Their haul had been unusually lucky.
That was when the hoofbeats reached them, fast and frantic.
Two horses broke from the tree line, running flat out, throwing up dust behind them like something was chasing them down.
"Mercenaries," Nicole said, squinting into the distance.
As the horses closed the distance, the damage became clear. One horse bore a deep claw wound across its haunch, bleeding with every stride. Its rider clung low to its neck, one hand on the reins, the other pressed to a bleeding shoulder.
The second horse was worse off, a wounded leg dragging its pace down with every step. Its rider, a woman with long black hair whipping loose in the wind, kept glancing back over her shoulder, throwing off the occasional Wind Blade behind her.
Luna Isis.
Gareth's attention sharpened.
Past her, dark shapes were pouring out of the tree line.
"Wind Wolves!" Nicole's voice cracked with alarm.
Not one, not a few. A whole pack, at least a dozen strong, closing on the horses. Two ran at the front, visibly larger than the rest, their fur darker, eyes lit with a dull red glow, both Tier-2, mid-tier at best, but still far above what a normal pack should look like.
"That's not normal," Nicole said, her expression going tight. "Wind Wolves don't pack like this. Three or four's already unusual. This many, hunting like they're coordinated, something's wrong."
There wasn't time to work out why.
The wounded horse gave out first, front legs buckling, sending its rider pitching forward. Luna reacted fast, both hands snapping out to throw up a pale silver shield beneath her as she fell.
Crack.
The shield shattered, but it took most of the impact. She hit the ground rolling and came up in the brush at the roadside.
The other rider didn't slow down. Didn't even look back twice. He drove his horse harder and vanished down the road toward the city.
He left her.
"That coward!" Nicole spat.
Gareth, for his part, thought the man had done him a favor. Nothing sold a hero's entrance like someone else's cowardice.
He drew his sword.
"Are you insane?" Nicole grabbed his sleeve. "That's a dozen Wind Wolves, some of them Tier-2! Get to the river with me, now!"
"Stay back. Keep yourself safe."
He shook her hand off and started walking toward the fight.
This kind of opportunity didn't come twice.