“You alright?” The knight asks his companion after the child's figure is gone.

“Yes.” The veteran responds meekly as the group continues forward. “It just...” He pauses to try and grasp the right words. “It always hurts seeing children get caught up in such chaos. I've witnessed more than my fair share of it in Kudura, and I don't think I'll ever move past it.” He bitterly admits, with a sensation of shame enveloping over him.

“I see.” Atticus responds, uncertain if he should pursue the topic. “You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but if you'd like to vent about it, I'll listen.”

Veros takes a deep breathe before recalling his experience in the Rhodish conflict in more detail. “My platoon was sent to join with another that had been stationed in a village called Mazani, which was part of the eastern Kuduran rebellion. However, when we got there, most of the villagers had been murdered – dozens of elders, women, and children – by the other Yhordish platoon that was already staying there.”

“What?” The knight reels back in shock, having never once heard of such an atrocity committed by the Yhordran forces before. “The rebels were your allies, weren't they? Why would they do such a thing?”

“Their story was that they had discovered evidence of some western Kuduran Republic spies being harbored in the village, and they tried to root them out, but no matter what they did, no one admitted to it.” The irritated ex-soldier's face twists into a spiteful scowl. “But I didn't buy that terrible excuse. Most of the bodies we found were mutilated, almost as if done for fun.”

“Were they punished for it?” Atticus asks, his eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a repulsed frown. He hopes for a specific answer.

“I tried to push our commander to charge them with treason, as they slaughtered people who were considered protected allies. But...” Veros's fists angrily clench his horse's reins and he grits his teeth in frustration. “He only had them stripped of their weapons and sent back to the capital, where they were placed under house arrest for some months before being discharged and sent home.”

Atticus sighs, disappointed and disturbed that he didn't receive the answer he had hoped for. “What happened to the surviving villagers?” He asks, looking for some semblance of a positive outcome.

“My platoon relocated them to a nearby town, and we returned to bury the dead. It was the most we could do.” Veros slumps his shoulders, feeling nothing short of defeated at the fact that no further justice was taken after the atrocity.

“That's... very unfortunate.” Atticus utters a minimal, somber response.

“It is.” Veros concurs with equal dejection. “Being a part of that conflict was the worst period of my life, and it was an uphill battle to get my life back on the right path after I left the Legion, but I didn't want the wickedness of others – nor the loss of my brothers – to change who I am, or why I joined the Legion in the first place.”

The knight sympathizes deeply with his comrade. He's a man who always seems to try and do the right thing whenever he's able, yet since he touched upon Kudura soil, his altruistic nature seems to have been repaid by an up-close and personal view of humanity's worst. He's lost his brothers, his faith in the powers that be, and this has caused a fire of bottled up anger to burn within him, but ultimately, it still hasn't crushed his sense of selflessness. So as to not possibly come off as condescending, Atticus quietly regards him with utmost respect for his perseverance under such harsh stresses.

Later, as the Mistwalkers reach the halfway point between Surling and Ervine, the surrounding forest that lines the roadside begins to clear into another open, slightly hilly plain. The brown dirt on the road is a noticeable contrast to the thick grass off of it, which, although its color is partially sapped away due to the grey mist disrupting the natural light, is still noticeably lush. Compared to the first day of the journey, the air is slightly colder due to their northern location. Under normal circumstances, some ponds and the occasional small rock formation protruding from the ground would be visible, but the thick fog prevents nature's tiny wonders from being seen.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

With only the infrequent run-in with undead villagers causing hiccups on their ride, the group eventually reaches the southern entrance to Ervine, welcomed by a tall wooden sign that hangs over the width of the road, held up by two tall poles at both sides, and bearing the village's name in big, black letters.

“Shall we?” Veros turns his head around to his team, implicitly asking if they're ready to proceed with the slow, tedious process of clearing out the area while they search for an adequate building to hole up in.

“This place is a bit larger than the other villages, isn't it?” Atticus asks. “The map suggested as much.”

“It is.” Veros answers with a nod, but isn't particularly bothered by the fact. “But I don't think we'll be using up that much more time than we usually do.” He dismounts, ready to begin the usual procedure, with Atticus and Erik following suit.

Kellar pauses, staring at the sign standing over them, his eyes narrowed. “I feel like I know somethin' about this place.” He utters, quietly racking his mind to remember a crucial detail he feels like he's forgotten.

“Kellar?” The team leader calls out. “Is something wrong?”

The rogue snaps out of his pensive daze. “Oh... Nah, nothin'.” He dismisses the nagging feeling in the back of his head, and dismounts as well.

With Veros and Atticus at the front and Erik and Kellar at the rear, the band advances through Ervine at a deliberate pace, with the two point men taking the initiative to inspect every building that lines the wide road that connects the southern and northern entrances of the village. As expected, their thorough search leads to several encounters with hostile undead still occupying their homes or wandering the street with no rhyme or reason.

The only difference they notice when going from one village to the other is a steady increase of items being left behind per home, indicating that the closer villagers were to Armasstadt when the mist appeared, the less likely they had a successful evacuation. Here, in Ervine, there are far more clothes, weapons, and other household items being found, as well as more rotten food sitting on tables or fire pit grates. It's as if the current condition of the village is a macabre still life portrait of what was happening the moment the miasma came into existence – a stark before and after.

Soon, the team comes across the first four-way intersection, where they turn to the east and west and see more buildings lining the road in either direction.

“Should we make a turn?” Atticus asks.

“No, it's probably best not to.” Veros answers. “Ervine actually stretches east and west significantly more than it stretches north and south. If we make a turn, our clearing process will take about three times longer, and that's if we stay in that direction and don't even turn around.”

“Ahead!” Zyra suddenly calls out, pointing north.

Veros and Atticus immediately enter a defensive stance, anticipating another advancing hostile. While they do see an approaching figure emerging from the grey curtain, it doesn't seem to be particularly quick in its advancement. Opting to stay patient, the two warriors on point keep still and wait for the unknown being to walk close enough to make their intentions clear. The mist soon gives way to a heavily decomposed man in a steel helmet and cuirass, which has a long cloth draped over it and secured at his waist with a thin black belt. The decorative quilt is black and bears an insignia that's only a white hand with the fingers extended and splayed. He also wears plate armor leggings and boots. A longsword is clasped in his right hand, and a kite shield in his left. The Mistwalkers on point furrow their brows, puzzled by the undead's armor.

“Oh, shit!” Kellar's panicked voice is heard from behind.

“What is it?” Veros asks without turning around.

“Now I know why I've heard of Ervine before!” He exclaims as he stares at the threatening corpse in armor. “This village is where the Hand of Armas is based!”

“And who exactly are they?” The veteran asks for more clarification, but accepts the clear implication whatever they are isn't a good thing.

“The Hand of Armas is a mercenary company that operates around this side of Yhordran.” The rogue explains and points to the undead mercenary's chest plate. “That's their sigil – a white handprint on a black background. They're a small team, but they're fuckin' good. And expensive. Or at least they were when they were alive.”

“If one of them is here, then maybe the rest of them are.” Veros remarks.

“Uh, guys?” Zyra's nervous voice is heard once again. “We're surrounded.”

Breaking their intense focus on the enemy in front of them, Veros and Atticus look down the east, west, and south roads of the intersection, where they spot two more undead members of The Hand of Armas at either side, and one at their back, making for a total of six. The five new appearances also have steel cuirasses, and still sport a cloth draped over them that displays the company's sigil.