Author's Note: This story is based on the premise that Theresa's teleportation works the same was as fast-travelling does: although it appears instantaneous, they'd actually have to walk. So this is set after the battle with the shard in Bloodstone when the party of five are travelling to Bower Lake for the ritual.

This story is actually a deleted scene from a longer one that I've yet to post but it stands fine on its own. Please tell me what you thought; I haven't written anything in ages and I'm still finding my footing.

They were walking through Brightwood when they heard it.

"I'd ask you to try and shoot me, but you'd probably poke your eye out instead," said the voice.

Sparrow stopped short.

"What was that?" said Hammer. "It didn't sound like a bandit."

"Actually," said Garth, "I think-"

"Hey! Look at me when I'm insulting you, you walking sack of compost!"

"-it's a gargoyle," Garth finished.

Sparrow had taken out her ranged weapon and was scanning the forest intently.

"Are we stopping?" said Reaver, coming up behind her. "Oh, a crossbow. How sweet."

"There's a gargoyle around here somewhere," Sparrow replied, without turning around.

"You're the sorriest excuse for a hero I ever saw, and I've seen plenty."

"Well, obviously. I don't know what you expect me to do about it."

"Help me look for it," said Sparrow. Reaver took no such initiative. "They usually sit on-"

"-been waiting here for all these centuries? You? Bah!"

"-the walls of buildings, or old ruins, or cliff faces-"

"I may be made of stone, but at least I ain't stone blind."

"How is it talking if it's made of stone?" said Hammer. "That doesn't even make sense."

"It's not the stone that's talking," Garth answered. "The gargoyles in Albion aren't true gargoyles, but disruptive spirits that were imprisoned in stone effigies, which were then scattered across the land."

"What, so they could harass innocent travelers till the end of time? Whose brilliant idea was that?"

"Hi, my name's Barndoor. Bet ye cannae hit me!"

"I understand that the spirits' ability to speak was not an intended consequence of their imprisonment."

Sparrow was traipsing around the nearby ruins in search of the gargoyle, followed by her dog. Further down the path, Theresa had noticed that no one was following her and was making her way back.

"I heard there was a prophecy about you," came the gargoyle's voice. "Something about the WORST MARKSMAN OF ALL TIME! Yeah, that was it! Ha ha ha!"

"I can't say I'm inclined to disagree," said Reaver. "Just find it, shoot it, and let's move on. We've been in this incorrigible forest for hours."

"Ach, ye blundering goose!"

"I'll find it, all right?" Sparrow snapped. "Just let me-"

"We don't have time for this," said Theresa, exasperation seeping in at the edges of her normally unwavering composure. "Even now, Lucien-"

"There it is!" Hammer interrupted. She pointed at the very top of a crumbling tower, directly above their heads.

"Oh, finally," said Reaver.

"Please, lower you voices," Theresa began. "We cannot-"

"-mighty adventurer, aren't you? Well, I've got a quest for you: KISS MY STONY ARSE!"

Sparrow aimed and fired. They gargoyle exploded, showering them all with dust and gravel.

"We must move on," said Theresa, as Sparrow put away her crossbow. "You have made enough noise to reveal our location to every creature in Brightwood, and it will not be long before word gets back to Lucien. If he didn't know what our plans were before, he will certainly be able to guess now."

She turned around and began walking, faster than before, in the direction of Bower Lake. The four heroes followed her.