Peregrine and company waited for the entire crowd to clear out before heading back to Pat’s house, having complex discussions along the way. They were ready, and prepared, to save people. But were these people worth saving? Would Sandra backstab them? Did they truly want to be rescued? What would happen if the town was freed? The mixed feelings were enough to make their heads spin.

  Pat’s house held a surprise. When they arrived, she slammed the door shut behind them and locked it.

  Inside, a small group of individuals, ranging wildly in species, took up residence in her kitchen. Two of them were small gnomes who looked like they were ripped straight out of a lawn decoration magazine, standing together on a single chair, barely seeing over the table. An elf gave them a salute with her mug of steaming something. Lastly, a reptilian leaned against the cast iron range. He had scaly muscles and a thick tail. His yellow eyes were certified fear strikers. A forked tongue flicked in and out of his mouth.

  Peregrine had the urge to open the door and run. Run to the nearest bubble gum forest where it was all rainbows and sunshine. He’d read all the conspiracies on reptilians, seen the videos of lizard people in Area 51. Images of Holy conjurings readied themselves in his head. Which one would decapitate this creature? He wouldn’t be eaten today. No, sir.

  “What’s the story on the freakshow?” Alissa asked what they were all likely thinking.

  “Who are you calling a freakshow, human?” The gnomes asked in unison. Their names were Lorn and Dorn. Both level 15.

  “Watch your ass,” the elf said. “We're your only friends right now.” She was also decently leveled at 22. Her name was Truly.

  Peregrine admired that they weren’t afraid to sling words with Alissa.

  Then, the reptilian approached. Peregrine took a step back. The green monster was level 40. His class was … Magitek Mechanic, which didn’t fit in whatsoever with Fiddler’s Green. What else is out there in this realm?

  “It’s an honor to officially meet a hero,” the reptilian—whose name was Slarif—said, reaching out for a hand shake.

  Years of late night internet searches, and crappy documentaries, froze Peregrine with fear. But Slarif didn’t match up with the expectations that people in their dingy basements candidly painted in their videos like they had firsthand encounters. So, he met the lizard’s hand, which was clammy and rough to the touch, and shook.

  “It’s a crime what The Morrigan does to your kind,” Slarif said. “We’re here to help ease that burden where we can.” His voice was deep and gargly. Peregrine sensed that Slarif had a kind soul underneath the war-like armour he wore.

  Pat took center stage. “These are my friends. Friends meet heroes. Heroes meet friends. Just like Slarif said, we’re here to join the fight. Not for Sandra, but for you.”

  “What do you mean by not for Sandra?” Wendell asked

  “Sandra is not who she seems,” Truly said. “She conceals her true ways well.”

  Pat took another turn. “Sandra hides the creepiness to keep everyone on her side, including people like you.” She pointed at Peregrine. “Fiddler’s Green is still here because of her. It might seem like a good thing, but she’s the one forcing people to stay instead of finding safer places to live. They are kept comfortable and well fed in the time between attacks, to distract them from reality. On full moons, she uses them to keep Katie safe.”

  “She sacrifices the innocent to keep her daughter alive,” Slarif added.

  “How does she get everyone to risk their lives for her?” Peregrine asked, confused as to why someone would willingly do that every month until they finally bit the bullet.

  “It’s in the food,” Lorn and Dorn said together as they munched on what appeared to be snack crackers, using their tiny hands to shovel them in their face.

  Pat walked over and snatched one of the crackers, met by growls and snarls from Lorn and Dorn. “We think she enchants the meals she serves at Mirth Tavern. It keeps people docile and infatuated with her. They get fed three times a day, so the enchantment never has enough time to completely wear off. It’s why you’ll never catch any of us eating there again.” She tossed the cracker back on the table, where it was quickly gobbled out of existence by greedy gnomes.

  “I think we encountered that magic tonight at the town meeting,” Wendell said.

  “You did,” Slarif responded. “We watched, from a distance. She has a constant following that has succumbed to her meals and frequents the tavern religiously. Once she has them hooked, they are at her disposal. With the arrival of new people to Fiddler’s Green, she is able to replace those she loses.”

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  “Supply and demand,” Peregrine said.

  “Supply and demand,” Pat repeated.

  For whatever reason, Alissa pulled her sword from her inventory, swinging it around a few times, drawing tense reactions from the audience. “So what, exactly, are we supposed to do with this information?”

  “We just wanted you to know,” Pat started, “how good she seems, but how manipulative she is. The cycle had been standard for a long time … until Katie was killed. It seems a switch has been flipped. People have often asked her about going to the castle and killing the werewolves, and she has always shot those ideas down. But now she wants it. She loves Fiddler’s Green and her tavern. But she loved her daughter more, and did everything she could to keep her safe, including never leaving the gates of the palisade. With her daughter gone, I’m afraid she has lost her purpose. She’ll be reckless now.”

  Peregrine felt that tinge of guilt squeeze his heart. They’d been directly involved in Katie’s death. But Alissa had been right before when she told Sandra she’d had ample opportunity to get out of town to keep her daughter safe. So it was more Sandra’s decision making than anything else.

  Once again, Alissa asked the relevant questions. “If this chick has such a following, how come you guys aren’t under her spell? Doing the fast food thing, or something?”

  “Not everyone in town blindly follows Sandra,” Pat said, sounding a bit pissed off. “Did you notice the whole town wasn’t at the meeting?” Alissa frowned and folded her arms across her chest. “There are other cooks, and places to eat at. Those aren’t the ones enchanting their food. The rest of the town is full of decent people. They also love Fiddler’s Green, and remain loyal to their home, defending it whatever the cost. Sandra’s group is small, but replaceable, always willing to die for her. Us five have formed a resistance.”

  Standing tall, Slarif exclaimed, “We call ourselves Power Dream. For together we are powerful. All with dreams.”

  Peregrine pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. It wasn’t the worst name he’d ever heard. But it sure did sound dumb. It didn’t give off “resistance” vibes.

  “What does your group do?” Wendell asked “Do you sabotage her plans? Spread the word of what she’s doing?”

  Pat fiddled with her hands. “No. We don’t really do much of anything to confront her. We talk in secret. We’re kind of afraid to show that we don’t like her because we believe she’d likely have us killed. She’s never had people murdered, that we’re aware of. But we can’t rule out the possibility. Then you three showed up. There is something different about you. You’re a stronger group than the others. You make me feel less afraid of Sandra.”

  “Boy, you sure know how to make a girl feel warm and fuzzy,” Alissa said, sarcastically. “We’ll take care of the werewolf problem for you. But we can’t bludgeon a tavern owner for being a culter. Wouldn’t pad our resume in the right way.”

  “You don’t need to worry about Sandra,” Pat said. “We plan on getting out from under her thumb and fleeing this town.”

  “But Power Dream won’t leave Fiddler’s Green until we know the werewolves are no longer a threat,” Truly said. She went and stood beside Pat, wrapping her arm around the nervous minotaur.

  “Can you win?” Pat asked, her eyes pleading. “Do you think you can defeat The Fool?”

  “I don’t know,” Peregrine said. He really didn’t. The trio hadn’t been tested in combat much, except for the oversized goblinsein. And that fight hadn’t exactly gone swimmingly. “We’ve only been here a few days. If we don’t try, we’ll all be killed eventually. No matter where we run to.”

  Alissa slapped Peregrine and Wendell on their backs. “Don’t listen to him. Fuck, yeah, we can win. We’re gonna stroll in there and hammer the shit out of anything that moves. Will Power Dream be joining us?”

  The reptilian seemed to take great joy in Alissa’s rousing words. His eyes gleamed. “You have Power Dream’s backing. Sandra’s group will watch from a safe distance, to see whether you live or die before deciding if they’ll be joining the fight. But we will fight next to you on the battlefield, as allies.”

  After setting their plan for the next day, the members of Power Dream, minus Pat, went to their homes.

  Peregrine slept fitfully, fears of death interrupting his dreams.

  ***

  The morning breakfast at Mirth Tavern was filled with lots of temporary stat boosts. A full menu contained +5’s and +10’s of everything from power and quickness, to others like sneaking and hiding. All the tables were already stocked full of prepared meals, everyone moving around and taking whatever they wanted. The air was filled with the intoxication of large stat increases. Songs broke out. Shows of power were on full display. All none the wiser to the fact they were being numbed into serving one person’s purpose.

  Peregrine, Alissa, and Wendell chose not to partake, with the knowledge that had been bestowed upon them. The temptation was there, with how high they could get their stats simply by eating a great looking meal. If they each ate something different, they might be able to guarantee their victory. But it wasn’t worth the risk.

  Sandra took notice of this. She approached the group, taking time to interact with the dozens of followers gathered at the tables—shoveling spoonfuls of mind control down their gullets—along the way.

  “Not hungry?” she asked the group, her eyebrow raised. “Such a pity. How strong you could be with one of my meals.”

  “No, thanks, bitch,” Alissa said. “We’re here for the fight, not your magic mumbo jumbo. We could always start the fight early, if you desire.”

  Sandra chuckled. “Then I won’t mince words with you, since you’ve been enlightened. If the battle is won. I want you three to leave. This is my home, and I won’t have you disrupting it with your influence. Go far away. Never show your face again. Understood?”

  Peregrine very much wanted to strike Sandra with a nasty left hook. But, of course, he didn’t. A part of him wished Alissa did, but she also held back. Wendell obviously didn’t have that bad bone in his body.

  Peregrine gave Sandra a nod.

  “Good,” Sandra said, smoothing out her apron. Her hair was disheveled, making her look tense. “Now that we are all in agreement.” She climbed on top of a chair. “Let’s get the heroes to war!”