Short stores are always more fun...

I remember that day well. The sun was shining brightly, the wind was calm, the Labyrinth was silent. We had finally conquered the alpha wolf Fenrir, a beast so vile that the mere sight of him had stalled our explorations of the Labyrinth for nigh on three months. It seems he did not take kindly to our wholesale slaughter of his pack, demonstrating as much by tearing our poor friend Elana quite literally in half; alas, Dark Hunters are quite agile, but when a giant wolf clamps his teeth around your midsection, a good suit of plate armor is what you really need.

After an appropriate period of mourning, we promoted one of our trainees to full-time status. Shayna is an odd one; beautiful by any standard, and with the voice of an angel...if angels cussed like drunken sailors whose boat had recently sank. Regardless, her ribald songs never failed to rally the troops for that extra push that was so often the difference between victory and informing yet another family that their son or daughter wouldn't make it home for the holidays.

We spent several weeks working with our young Troubadour in the highest levels of the Labyrinth. She was eager to move on and face the beast Fenrir, but all of us had seen too many young recruits cut down before their time by even common beasts, so we made sure Shayna had as much experience as we could force on her.

Finally, the day came that we would avenge our friend Elana. We spent several days observing Fenrir, memorizing his routine and identifying the ideal moments to strike. It was decided that our greatest chance for victory would be in the early hours of the morning, after the night's hunt was over and the pack was sleeping. We sent Daniel, our best woodsman, out to lure the beast into an ambush. We couldn't risk an outright assault; while we felt confident we could take down the alpha wolf, we knew the sounds of battle would rouse his pack mates and they'd rush to his side.

Despite the absence of even the merest hint of a breeze, the wolf smelled Daniel from at least a hundred yards out; truly it was vilest of dark magicks that gave rise to such an unholy monster. Fenrir lazily rose and began stalking towards our Survivalist. Realizing he had been spotted despite his best efforts, Daniel began slowly backtracking to the arranged spot. Fenrir kept coming; it almost seemed as if the monster was laughing.

Whatever it was he was doing, the beast cut it short to let out a quick yelp when a bottle of Amanda's odd-colored concoction smashed in his face. I don't know what that insane woman puts in those potions of hers, but by the gods I'd hate to get even the smallest drop of it anywhere near my mouth. Fenrir was discovering this the hard way; his mouth had been open when the bottle struck him. Even though I know it's not possible, I swear that beast turned just a little green.

I stepped out from behind the tree I'd been using as cover, calmly resting my spear in the crook of my shield arm. As I stared the puking beast down, I slowly removed a vial of blood from a pouch on my belt. Making sure the beast saw what I was doing, I pulled the stopper out and began to pour congealing liquid all over my breastplate. Once again Fenrir gave me something to think on; showing far more intelligence than any beast should, he looked almost confused until the scent of the blood reached his nose. Even Amanda's poison couldn't stay the burning rage I saw in the wolf's eyes. You see, the blood came from a wolf cub we'd found harassing some of Etria's sheep the previous day.

With a howl that could have shaken the foundation of the sturdiest tower, Fenrir launched himself at me. I was prepared for that, hell, I'd invited him to do it, and he was at least somewhat weakened from the poison. Even so, when he hit me, it hurt. It hurt a lot. I'm pretty sure he shattered most of the bones in my shield arm. I staggered back from the pain, and had I been alone, or only in the company of a woodsman and an Alchemist, I'd have surely perished there.

But I never visited the Labyrinth without Raul, my cousin. Or more accurately, I never go anywhere without my cousin. I can't. If the constables in any town or village within 100 leagues find him without me by his side, they have standing orders to apprehend him at any cost. Raul's a good kid, but he's taken one too many blows to the head after long nights of drinking. If I'm not around to keep him calm, some poor townsperson might "look at him wrong" and wind up on the bad end of Cutty, his battleaxe.

I'm getting sidetracked. Anyhow, as Fenrir was preparing to maul me into tiny pieces, Raul came charging out of some bushes, swinging Cutty over his head and singing a particularly foul song Shayna had taught him. With a mighty leap, the singing Landsneckt buried his battleaxe deep in the wolf's right side.

Somehow, the first earth-shaking howl hadn't roused the alpha wolf's pack. Well, the one Raul and Cutty cut and punched out of him did. Knowing we didn't have much time, I told my friends to give it everything they had. Picking up her song where Raul had left off, Shayna danced in a circle around Fenrir, peppering him with arrows. Daniel, an archer of a more serious temperament, took his time with his shots, taking careful aim at whatever vital spots he could. I did what I could to stay in the monster's face, trying to make sure that he got a nose full of that cub's blood with every breath. Raul...did what Raul does, which is hit stuff repeatedly with Cutty, not caring whose way he got in. Amanda started tossing some orange potions that burst into flame when their vials shattered and the liquid was exposed to air.

Fenrir was had torn my shield from my numb hand; I was keeping him from my throat thanks only to some fancy footwork (which I can promise is not an easy task when you're wearing plate mail). The beast lunged at me; I managed to dodge, but just barely. His back paw clipped my shoulder, spinning me around. That probably saved our lives. When my back was to the big wolf, I saw that his packmates were nearly upon us. At the same time, I heard Raul scream in pain. Turning, I saw that Fenrir hadn't been lunging at me; he'd been after my cousin, who had worked his way behind me in the course of his insane cutting dance. Raul had tried to move out of the beast's way, but he wasn't quick enough. Fenrir had him pinned to the ground, his teeth around the Landskenckt's shoulder.

Time seemed to slow down. I knew that if the battle didn't end in the next second or two, Fenrir's pack would be on us and we'd all fall under a furry wave. Hell, we'd probably all die anyway, but I'd be damned if we were going down without taking that monster with us. Already Raul's struggles against the alpha wolf had nearly ceased; Cutty had fallen from his hands, something I'd never seen happen, even in the worst of fights. With a scream of rage and frustration, I gripped my spear in both hands, forcing my shattered shield arm into agonizing action, and charged Fenrir.

I hit the monster full in the side, letting the weight of my armor-clad body act as a hammer on the spear. It completely pierced the beast's body. My momentum was such that, despite the great wolf's bulk, I carried us forward into a tree, driving the tip of my spear almost a foot into it. Fenrir made one feeble attempt to bite me, then all the fight left him. He mewled out one last, feeble howl and was still. His pack, seeing their alpha male's limp body pinned to a tree, scattered. They could have easily taken us, but instinct is a strong thing to fight.

The fight was over. I rushed to Raul's side, but Amanda had beaten me there. She was pouring a sweet-smelling liquid over his wounds. It took me a confused moment to realize it was a healing potion she'd bought from Etria's doctors. I knelt beside my cousin, fearing the worst. The gods love a simple man, though. He opened his eyes and smiled, then started reaching around for his axe. A wave of relief washed over me, and I'm not too proud to say I was crying as I reached over and handed Cutty to her owner. As I sat there crying and smiling at my cousin, the last few minutes finally caught up to me and I passed out.

I later learned from Amanda that, after making sure no stragglers from Fenrir's pack would harass us, Daniel had rushed back to town, returning with several of our trainees and a couple of stretchers. I slept for three days straight while healing from my wounds. Raul, thanks to Amanda's quick administration of healing potions, was up and about after a day and a half. The guards were lenient with him, knowing that I was recovering from the battle with Fenrir. From the stories the townspeople have told me, maybe they shouldn't have been...

Ah, but that's a story for another time.

There's a lot of embellishment here (naturally), but the basics hold true. I really did stall for several months on Fenrir; my no-medic party of a Protector, Landskneckt, Dark Hunter, Alchemist, and Survivalist just couldn't handle him without requiring more grinding than any sane person would be willing to do. After looking at the raw numbers, I knew my Dark Hunter had to go. I was still a stubborn ass and wanted to try the game without a medic, so I thought a Troubadour would be my best bet, with her healing songs. This turned out to be the case, as even at half the level of the rest of my party, her songs led me to a victory.

Unfortunately, it was a short lived victory. The rooms full of FOEs on the sixth floor proved too much to handle without a dedicated healer. It was fun while it lasted, though.