A/N: So… depending on the person, this might not be suitable to read due to it having darker content then the last few chapters. However, it's kind of mood-whiplashy so it's not extremely dark or anything. Sarcastic for the most part. Seriously, minus the darker parts, this is mostly a joke chapter...

Barron couldn't believe it. He hadn't even meant to grab that Quest Card, it was an honest mistake. His hand had slipped when another Hero distracted him. He didn't want to do this mission at all in the first place! Yet here he was, taking on one of the most loathed types of adventures a Hero could ask for. The particularly annoying part was that he had been searching for Whisper. He hadn't found her anywhere in the Guild, and none of the other Heroes had known where she was. Barron had even went so far as to ask Leo where she was. The merchant had gotten frustrated with the younger man for holding up the line. Barron still hadn't the foggiest clue as to what the man sold.

"Look, kid, I don't know where she ran off. Now move along and go on a quest or something. That's what you warrior types do, isn't it?"

So here he was, babysitting two dimwitted traveling merchants. Oddly enough, that wasn't the biggest struggle he had to deal with today. Earlier he had to deal with a highwayman who had been blocking his way. The man had offered to let Barron pass for a price, or to cut his head off. Barron took a third option and decided that the head cutting would be done by himself, and against the highwayman. After the man had fallen cold other bandits descended from the trees. There were at least a dozen or so if them, and part of the forest, along with Barron's clothes, had ended up scorched by magic flames as Barron thinned them out. Truely, the fact that he had to deal with that just to get to two bumbling idiots was enough to make anyone irritable.

"We have to get to the Barrow Fields at the other side of Darkwood," one of the travelers explained.

"You lead the way. We'll be right behind you," the other announced.

The first one spoke up again, "The quicker we travel, the better. There are unnatural things in these woods."

As the man said this a ferocious, blood curdling wail came from the forest. Truly, the timing was perfect. The two merchants clung to each other in fear. Meanwhile Barron found himself shaking his head at the duo. Despite the obvious dangers Barron couldn't bring himself to be fearful. With his courage still intact he lead them through the forest. They hadn't gone more than a mile when they happened upon a mustachioed man clutching at wound.

Looking towards the trio the man cried out, "Help! Something bit me and left me for dead. Please, allow me to go with you."

"We can't let him follow. He's infected! He'll be eating our guts before we know it," one of the merchants said fearfully.

"We have sworn a trader oath. We have to help him," said the other.

"Oath," Barron asked with a quirked eyebrow.

He went unheard as the fearful merchant continued to plead, to leave the man behind. The mustachioed traveler tried to bargain, saying he had money. Barron looked back and forth between the two merchants and the traveler. On one hand, something did seem off about the traveler. On the other, if his father were here, Barron suspected that he'd be told to bring the man with them. That it would be wrong to just leave someone in these dangerous woods. With a sad sigh Barron extended his hand to the traveler, which was happily accepted, and hauled the traveler to his feet.

"Thank you, Hero. I'm very grateful."

Barron watched the man with wary eyes as he went to stand next to the two merchants. Despite his unease Barron continued to trek through the forest, the three men never too far behind. Eventually one mile became two, and two became four, and four became eight. Eventually they had to stop, the three men being unused to such a long travel. The merchants lit a fire, ready to cook as the light started to disappear from the sky. That was when Barron sensed it.

In his rough voice he commanded, "All of you, stay here."

The men were surprised by the order, but did as they were told. He sped away from them, hopping over large, gnarled roots, and fallen trees to the source of this wicked feeling. However, he slowed to a near crawl when a clearing came into view. He moved into the brush, using a thorn bush as cover. Peering through the vines of the bush he saw a creature he had only read about in books.

The beast was covered head to toe in fur. It's limbs and torso were peculiarly human like - And it's head, wolf-like with a jaw full of jagged teeth, only served to make the creature more uncanny. Barron watched as the beast, the Balverine, tour at it's prey's intestines. The man underneath the creature laid there, and allowed the beast to consume him in a way only someone touched by death could. Barron, not looking to get bitten, moved to return to his band. His plan had been to simply lead them around the Balverine, as he believed one, already deceased human would fill the creature, should it's focus stay on the corpse. Unfortunately, a twig cracked underneath his foot.

The Balverine's head snapped up away from the dead man. It's glowing, yellow eyes now visible as the beast sniffed the air. Slowly it turned it's head towards the brush knowingly. Thus Barron locked eyes with the creature that had haunted his nightmares as a young child. He stared into the piercing eyes and was not afraid, but entranced. Using it's mighty legs the Balverine leaped into the air and landed directly behind the young warrior.

Barron whipped around and sent a flaming ball directly into the face of the beast. It howled in pain it lashed out at him. He quickly ducked, allowing the beasts long, disjointed and clawed fingers get tangled within the thorny vines. Running behind the beast as it struggled for freedom Barron unsheathed his sword, and let the slade plunge itself into the skull of the beast. He put his foot against the Balverine's spine and pushed so that he could dislodge his sword. The battle had been unnaturally easy, and all Barron could do was look at his bloodied sword in shock at the ease.

"I can't believe it," yelled a familiar voice.

Barron head whipped around to the source of the voice. There, standing no more than ten feet away, were his protectorates. Anger flared within Barron once he realized they had disobeyed his order.

"I told you to stay put," he reminded harshly.

Once again his words were ignored when one of the travelers said, "He slayed one. He really slayed one!"

Most of the rest of the journey had been uneventful, at least for Barron's standards. At one point they had to travel through a marsh with man sized, exploding mushrooms. In all honesty, that had to have been one of the odder things Barron had ever seen. It was also hilarious as one of the men kept walking into them, causing him to be flown backwards into mud, or occasionally another mushroom. Yes, Barron's job was to keep them safe, but he wasn't about to allow himself to go boom in order to protect them from their own stupidity.

The next area they had traversed was much more difficult. There were bandits every which way they turned. Luckily Barron was able to overpower them, despite their superior numbers. By the time the full moon had risen the band had located the campsite that merchants and other travelers would use to recuperate. They stayed there for some time, eating, bandaging wounds, and even trading a little. However, they left rather quickly after that… Only to encounter more bandits. Let's be honest with ourselves, if more bandits were able to come up with actual strategies rather than charge into battle mindlessly, there is chance that every Hero and their mother would be royally screwed. Fortunately, a large percentage of Albion's bandits were utterly stupid, making an easy chore for Barron. What was to come next was shocking, yet completely expected for the genre savvy.

The mustachioed man toppled over in pain, "Ugh! It burns! My b-blood… feels like it's boiling!"

"I warned you! I warned all of you," screeched one of the merchants.

The man's body grew larger with every second, his clothes tearing with each added inch. Horrid, unthinkable noises came from the body as bones broke and reformed. The man opened his mouth to scream in pain, but his jaw unhinged. His skull cracked under the pressure of the transformation, only to reform into something unspeakable. The creature coughed blood as it approached Barron on it's mutilated, still changing legs.

Extending it's crippled looking hands it begged, "Please… Please..."

Before Barron knew it, his blade had lashed out. The head of the beast fell to the ground with an unceremonious thud. The body following it soon afterwards. Barron looked at the creature, a thing that had once been a man, and felt something he couldn't place a finger on. Perhaps it was pity? He couldn't be sure.

He looked over to the two merchants, "Let's go."

Before they could take their leave however, the ground began to shake. The dirt beneath their feet began to rise and the merchants screamed in fear. They jumped off of the ever growing mound and ran for cover. When an arm of stone burst forth Barron flipped off the newly discovered enemy. He turned and staring down at him was a monstrous earth troll.

With a roar the mighty troll lifted it's stone arm into the air. Barron made to run but only got a few feet away when the large arm made impact to the ground. The resounding force of the collision sent Barron flying forward. Barron quickly got up to his feet, and just barely managed to dodge a flying bolder. He sent a fireball hurtling towards the troll as it attempted to grab another boulder. The troll didn't even register the attack and it heaved the boulder into the air with it's mighty arms.

Diving to safety Barron yelled, "You've got to be kidding me!"

The battle went on for what had felt like ages. The troll's health chipped away slowly. The more it's drive dwindled, the more it's body crumbled. By the end of the fight it's rocky skull had become nothing but dust. Finally, as the morning sun rose in the sky, they had made it to Barrow Fields. As a reward the two merchants gave him some money… and feathers.

Much later in the day Barron found himself getting extremely drunk with one poor unsuspecting Leo.

"That's why you don't take those sort of Quests," the dark haired man had said unhelpfully.

"I know!"