[Olm]

We arrive and are greeted by the scout party in this province. A mother and five bards, so we are twelve now. The bards lead us to the field camp of the Pan. We take positions and start the attack. The camp has magical defenses, so we cannot surprise him. We advance and he starts his spells, strengtheneing himself for the fight. The Mistress figured out a weakness against poison, so the plan is to attack him him with poison and sleep clouds while phantasms keep him from just chopping us up. But he is not alone, a small force accompanies him. Not much, but we are defenseless, so most of us concentrate on them instead of Ares. They go down easily, but where is Ares? I cannot see him. A scream! I turn around, and there he is, just in the middle of our formation. And at his feet lies Gunhild, or whats left of her. He has winged shoes. We need time! Sprites, I call on them without thinking. The others react instinctively too. In seconds the Pan is covered in vines surrounded by Dragonflies and my sprites. Its effective. He is immobilized, cannot harm us. So we blast away with all we have. Most of us use Streams of Life, but I see other spells too.

Its just impossible how many spells he just shrugs off. Spell after Spell, and he doesn't care. And then its over. just so. The last Stream of Life just got through somehow and the mighty Ares, hero of countless battles is dead. We did it.
What do I feel? Relief mixes with exhaustion. And sure there is some pride. But one thought dominates: I lived the day, but it was probably my last great deed. I will not die today. But for sure tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, or another day in near future. We were victorious against one of the mightiest heroes of the world. But there is no victory, against the disease. And the days will become darker and darker. Perhaps today Gunhild was the luckiest of us seven.