After entering the mist following their two-day break, the Mistwalkers find themselves more overwhelmed than usual by the density of the strange miasma and assaulted by the thickness of the air. They were only a few miles from Terrance, and they felt as though exhaustion was already beginning to set in.

They were traveling in a coordinated manner, in their usual line of three pairs, but organized in a way to best suit the presumed dangers of the northern region. At the front are Veros and Atticus, the two most experienced swordfighters of the group who are also competent bowmen. After them are Erik and Zyra, the two dedicated ranged fighters. At the rear of the group are Royd and Kellar, also dependable warriors, but better suited to respond to surprise attacks than the two ranged team members would be if the the band were approached from behind. This is especially true thanks to Royd's massive new greatshield. With their new equipment and awareness of the greater dangers that lie ahead, the six Mistwalkers are as well-prepared as they could possibly be.

“I assume we'll be stopping for the day at Arrenstead?” Atticus asks aloud.

“It would be best.” Veros responds without taking his eyes off the road ahead. “We can't risk camping out here. We need to stay the night inside of a building, no questions asked. Luckily, many small villages start to cluster together as we get closer to Armasstadt, so that shouldn't be an issue.”

“We should preferably look for a barn so we can house the horses, as well.” The knight suggests. “Can't really afford to let them out of our sight when they're carrying so many necessities.”

Veros nods in agreement. “True. When we reach Arrenstead, we'll look for a barn to stay in. If there isn't one, we'll have to settle for a house with a fenced-in yard.”

“Will we have someone be a lookout, just in case?”

“It's probably not a good idea to allow any of us to become sleep-deprived for that.” The veteran answers with some reluctance towards the idea. “We'll have to just stay in the most secure building we find, with few points of entry, so establishing a lookout won't be necessary. I'm sure the horses would make a racket if something hostile showed up, anyway.”

“Fair enough.” Atticus concedes the point, as allowing multiple people to lose sleep over looking out might be a futile effort. Thanks to the extremely low visibility allowed by the mist at night, a lookout wouldn't be able to see very far to begin with, making their job pointless. Focusing on finding a secure location would be a better investment of time.

A ways further down the road, and the group comes across a slowly approaching shadow concealed in the fog in front of them.

“Hold.” Veros holds his hand up to stop the team's advance.

They quietly watch the silhouette draw nearer, allowing it to emerge from the cover of the mist. It's a single undead in a rusty metal cuirass, heavily decomposed, limping forward at a turtle's pace. It does wield a sword, though 'wield' would be a generous term, as the blade is being dragged across the dirt underneath it.

“A normal undead, like the ones we've been encountering.” Veros comments with a hint of relief in his voice. “Figures. We're still not even ten miles from Terrance yet.”

The corpse comes closer at its tepid pace, occasionally swinging its chipped sword with lackluster force, barely able to to lift its blade from the ground.

“Mind if try something?” Atticus speaks up. “I want to cast a spell.”

The team leader casually lifts his hand towards the shambling cadaver. “Go ahead.”

The knight's horse takes several steps forward to further close the gap between himself and the undead foe. Atticus lifts and extends his left arm forward, turning his hand to face his palm to the right. He closes his ring finger and pinky while keeping his index and middle fingers extended, and his thumb pressed flatly against the side of his hand. He takes a deep breath to gather his focus, keeping his extended fingers pointed at the hostile corpse, which is still slowly advancing. After a long exhale, a sudden, small flash of white zooms across the air in an instant, and the mindless husk is immediately transformed into an explosion of flesh confetti, accompanied by a loud boom, and followed by light smoke rising from its remains. It happened so quickly, that the others aren't even sure of what they witnessed.

“Was that a fireball?” Veros asks. “It didn't look like the ones Zyra casted.”

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“That... was an Air Cutter.” Zyra speaks up from behind, amazed at the display of power. “A four-stone pyromancy spell. It's technically a type of fireball, but it's more like a projectile of hot, condensed air, one that moves at an extremely high velocity, so it travels much farther than a fireball. It doesn't explode in a fiery manner, but any flesh that's hit directly by it practically turns into a puff of smoke. It's typically used for sniping.”

“Incredible.” The veteran utters, gazing at the remnants of the undead's existence. “I can only imagine what power a six-stone bracelet yields.”

“Don't expect me to use spells like this all the time.” Atticus interjects. “The stronger a spell is, the longer it takes the channel, plus I'm still a bit rusty. I still need a some time to hit my stride.”

“One problem.” Kellar speaks up. “Now we can't grab his card.”

The knight looks back at the spot the undead was standing in when it exploded. The only significant pieces left of it are its charred hips and legs.

Atticus sighs. “Damn. I didn't think that through.” He curses at his lack of foresight.

“Don't beat yourself up over it.” Veros tries to offer words of comfort. “It's doubtful he was the first Mistwalker to lose their card after being turned. That's just an unfortunate accident that occurs out here, I'm sure.” He looks over at the motionless legs, no longer attached to a full torso. “Though you should probably save that spell for more threatening encounters.”

The knight nods sullenly. “Right.”

“Alright, let's keep going.” Veros resumes the day's travel, and the group proceeds with riding northward.

More minutes pass, and a greater distance is covered with each step, causing the team to slowly become more and more tense at the increasing likelihood of running into the intelligent undead they were told of. They maintain the organized travel formation they left Terrance with; Veros and Atticus stay focused at the head of the party with their eyes keenly concentrated ahead of them.

About two hours later, two more human shapes are spotted on the road, blocking their path. Again, Veros stops the advancement of the team to wait and see what the enemies are. The first undead is a heavily aged corpse in cotton clothing, loosely dragging a pitchfork behind it. The second is something far more surprising: a necrotic Legion soldier, still donning its armor – minus a helmet – and coat of arms, but isn't holding a weapon.

“A Legion soldier...” Veros comments with a grim tone. “I'm a bit surprised it took so long for us to run into one.” He takes a moment to examine the situation, taking note of the lack of head protection for both approaching threats. “I'll take care of these two. Now's a good time to practice my aim on a moving target.”

Veros takes the bow that's slung across his back and retrieves an arrow from his quiver, nocking it into the bowstring, taking aim at the first undead, and drawing back. His arms sway ever-so-slightly, trying to find a sweet spot. After a focused pause, he looses the arrow. It cuts through the air with dangerous speed and hits the shambling corpse in the right shoulder.

“One more try.” The veteran urges himself on.

He takes a second arrow, nocks it, aims, and draws the string back in the same swift motion as before. He narrows his eyes and furrows his brow to gather the focus he needs to keep his aim true. After a long breath, he looses the arrow, and this time it successfully strikes the undead square in its slack-jawed mouth. It limply falls over, hitting the ground with an audible thud. He repeats this process with the second undead – the Legion soldier, which is steadily approaching with the usual snail-like speed exhibited by most reanimated enemies. With a steady aim, Veros releases another arrow, which pierces the foe's decomposed skull.

“Looks like you've gotten used to shooting again.” Atticus comments.

“Thankfully.” The team leader responds with a small sigh, relieved that his doubts of being dependable with a bow have been washed away. “Let's go retrieve those arrows.”

The group rides forward, approaching the motionless corpses. Once near them, Veros dismounts and walks to the first undead, which lies awkwardly on its side with two arrows protruding from it. He clasps the arrow in its shoulder and gives a forceful tug to retrieve it, and does it again with arrow in the cadaver's head. He notices the heavy decomposition of the unknown body.

“This one's definitely someone who lived here while the mist was expanding.” Veros remarks. “I don't think he has a card on him.”

He walks over the undead Legion soldier and pulls the arrow out of its head with a strong jerk, needing to step on its head in order to get leverage.

“Since he's a soldier, he definitely wouldn't have a card, either.” He notes.

“I just had a thought.” Royd suddenly speaks up. “If there are undead Legion soldiers this far north, then wouldn't they also be part of these smarter undead we're keeping an eye out for?”

The group is struck with a sense of unease as they come to the same realization. Despite how obvious the idea might seem, it was a thought that hadn't crossed their minds.

“Well, that's great.” Kellar facetiously comments. “Fightin' undead that aren't just capable of usin' weapons right, but also wearin' full armor? A real gift from the Gods.”

Veros heaves a small sigh. “Best we can do is keep our eyes peeled, and our fingers crossed that we don't encounter any groups high in number. We're about halfway to Arrenstead, so we could run into these special undead any moment now.”

“What do we do if that happens?” Zyra asks. “We can't charge through them?”

“We can't risk getting the horses injured.” The veteran responds bluntly. “They're more than just transportation, they're also carrying our food for the next several days, as well as our tents and bedrolls. There's no way we can haul all of these things ourselves if they're hurt. We'll just have to dismount and fight them, as usual.” His arrows retrieved, Veros climbs atop his horse's back again. “Let's keep going.” He commands. The group quietly proceeds northward.