The following morning, Carbrey, Orthos, and Torskaal went and saw Torvin at his shop. He was working diligently at his forge. Having both trained with cannons during their Jorgman days, Orthos and Carbrey were eager to get their hands on one.

“I’m still surprised you know about us Sootbrows,” Torvin said when they brought up the cannons. “Not too many manfolk know about us.”

“Aye, but Carbrey here is a proper Jorgman. Ain't nothing gettin by him!” Torskaal joked.

“Well, when you're at sea for a long float, dwarves get to talking,” Carbrey added. “If you could fashion us cannons that are packed with silver, it would be greatly appreciated.”

“Aye, it can be done. I think I have enough silver leftover from fixing that chain hook,” Torvin said. “Should only take me a short time for each, and I reckon you want yourself one too, Torskaal?”

“You know I do!” Torskaal replied. “And did you have time yesterday to fix my pike?” Torvin nodded.

“She’s proper fixed now, she is.” He pointed to the silver pike leaning against the wall. While the four of them waited for their cannons to be packed, Everette, Naja, Beef, Akecheta, and Ra'Selas stopped by in the church to speak with Benwall the Brave.

He was kneeling over a stone basin that was filled with water and praying quietly. The early morning sun shone through the eastern window and gave the water a soft golden glow. A few villagers were sitting along the pews, silently praying to themselves or reading from the Parable of Humanity. When Benwall noticed the five of them, he stood up and walked over.

“Good morning, Witch Hunters, and”— he looked at the others who now had their hoods removed and his mouth fell agape.

“My word,” he said to Ra'Selas, “Why you’re the Eagle of Scrydell. And you,” he squinted his eyes and examined Everette closely. “Captain Killenguard, the Iron Flank! I thought you were dead.”

“Captain Killenguard and the men of the 31st company who patrolled these lands all died back in 823,” Everette replied in a somber tone. “I’m just a Witch Hunter, nothing more.”

Benwall nodded. “I understand. And what about you, Ra’Selas?” he asked.

“The Eagle of Scrydell is just a title, I’ve always been a soldier. My war is just now against the wicked or supernatural,” Ra'Selas replied.

“I see.” A grin cracked on Benwall’s face. “What brings the five of you this morning?”

“We're seeking a blessing,” Naja said. “We don’t know what to expect when we get to the werewolf camp, but if you had a prayer like last night, we would all gladly have it.”

“Of course,” Benwall replied. “I’m sorry, I don’t know any Zenidition or Wulfolic prayers, so I hope one from the book of Providence will suffice.”

“I was raised Aredesan by my master,” Naja replied. “I can’t really remember much from when I was still just a girl.”

“It is the same for me,” Akecheta added. “I was actually raised by a Speaker.”

“Speaker Everdeen, correct?” Benwall asked and Akecheta nodded.

“You knew her?” Akecheta was surprised.

“She was a remarkable woman, and an excellent Speaker. I was sorry to hear of her death.” Benwall pressed his lips together and he put his hand on Akecheta’s shoulder. “I actually still remember the day I saw her carrying a young Crow Clan boy away from…” he paused and a sorrowful look fell over him.

He stared off for a second as if he was torn away from the present and standing back in the past. “The Chaos of war.” Benwall removed his hand and tried to smile but it was clear he was pained by the memories.

“I don’t really even remember life before her,” Akecheta replied. His crow landed on his shoulder and nuzzled his face. “Even though she isn’t here anymore, I still feel her presence with me.”

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“Good,” Benwall said. “I’m glad.” He nodded softly before taking a deep breath. “Now, for that blessing.”

Benwall grabbed a copy of the Parable of Humanity and opened it up to the Book of Providence. He flipped around for a moment before landing on the verse he felt was right. The prayer only took a minute, and after he was done all of them felt a serene sense of divine protection. They thanked Benwall and headed out to meet up with the others.

Everyone checked over their supplies, making sure their silver and witchbane was easily accessible. As they made their way to the woods, Juniper walked alongside, hand in hand with Haldor. She was determined to see them off, despite her father’s reservations. Just before they left town, Haldor embraced her and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Juniper smiled and told him, “You better come back.”

“It’s a promise,” he replied, before they left the town of Waldenhauf.

As they began their journey, Naja asked, “How deep into the woods are the ruins?”

“Farther than the Greymane camp,” Haldor said. “Djargo here will lead the way.”

He spoke a command in Wulfolic to his wolf and it ran to the front of the group. Djargo looked around and would sniff trees often—sometimes it was as if they were walking aimlessly, but Haldor assured them he was leading them the right way.

“Wolves remember the scent of a werebeast and can follow it well,” he told them.

An overwhelming sense of dread hung over them as they made their trek through the woods. From what they were told, Oliver had at least ten warriors, of which they had no idea how many could be a werewolf.

There were at least two other people cursed with Shabetsu the night Naja did her check, and both were unaccounted for in the village. With Haldor, Torskaal, and Djargo, they were eleven in number. But if everyone they were about to encounter was a werebeast, they would quickly be overrun.

Naja mulled over everything in her head as they silently trudged through the woods. What would Lord Gremmelt have done? Can we do this? Should I have sent word back to The Order?

All these questions plagued her mind, but she remained resolute. There wasn’t time for any of that, and she knew it. Even if they had sent a crow to Witchbane Keep, it may not have reached them in time. She had made her decision and now would live with whatever consequences came her way.

The canopy of the forest grew so dense that hardly any sunlight shone within. It was as dim as a candlelit room and they could hardly see more than a stone's throw away before the scenery turned to shadows. The trees were black and tall—huge leaves fell from their limbs and drifted slowly to the grass below.

The air was still and the normal woodland sounds of birds chirping and rodents scurrying about were completely absent. The only sound other than their own steps and breathing was the soft crack of fire off in the distance. The ruins were just ahead of them.

Huge moss covered stone columns rose up through the trees. They were scattered around and some had fallen in ages past. What they once held was no longer there, instead they were broken near their peak and any symbols or words that had been etched into them were completely faded or covered in vegetation.

A large stone wall ran directly to an ancient stone temple, shielding anyone that lay beyond it from view. The soft light of fire reflected off the columns and trees and cast the shadows away. They stopped and hid themselves among the brush.

Haldor pointed out a wolf that sat outside of the ruins, providing security to the men who warmed themselves by the fire.

“They are inside,” he said in a whisper. “Djargo and I will distract the wolf.” Naja held her hand up so he would pause.

Studying the landscape, she could see the ruins had three points of entry. The front where the wolf could be found, and the two sides where large columns and trees were interspersed with one another. Through the brush past the wolf she could faintly see into the mouth of the ruins.

There was a set of stairs leading down, several old boxes and barrels, and two fires that were surrounded by gray-haired men. The men were relaxed. Some smoked from pipes, others drank out of tankards or were eating meat right off of the bone.

While still far off from the ruins, Naja and the others formed a plan of attack. They spoke in hushed tones, and the whole time Haldor and Djargo kept a vigilant watch for any movement nearby.

It was decided that they would try to launch a sneak attack of some kind from both sides. Haldor and Djargo would go to the front and see about distracting the wolf. Naja, Carbrey, Torskaal, Everett, and Akecheta would try to use the overgrown brush as cover and charge in from the right. During the initial confusion, Orthos, Ra'Selas, Beef, and Cha’Rak would strike from the left.

“It takes nearly 15 seconds for a man to turn into a beast—in that time they are vulnerable,” Carbrey explained. “If we can get in there quickly we should be able to kill some of them before they even change.”

“We'll never be able to outrun them, so it’s kill all or be killed,” Naja added. She looked around at everyone in the circle.

“This is it,” she told them, pushing away her Doubts. “Once we collect their heads, we all go back to Witchbane Keep. It's going to be dangerous, but if we do this right, none of us will get hurt. Stick together, and stick to the plan.” Everyone nodded before breaking away from the circle and making their way to their positions.