The forest, save for the occasional crow, was quiet, as if devoid of any other wildlife such as deer or bears. The trees had an unhealthy tinge to them and Lawrence could clearly see that they were rotting in some areas.

Lawrence, Leviathan and Craig slowly trudged through the forest, leading the two horses on. The branches waved and weaved into the sky, as if all of them were humans in prayers, their hands up in the sky.

“At least sun’s up,” Craig said, doing his best to remain calm.

“Careful now, saying any good news in the forest is not a good thing to do nowadays, lest the spirits and unlife come to dampen your mood,” Leviathan said, gripping the handle of the short sword that is now sheathed on his waistband. Lawrence had handed it to him, a spare from the bandit attack that had descended upon Black Bay.

“Any news from your niece?” Lawrence asked, as his eyes scanned the area. No signs of undead or any other life for that fact.

“None. Each time I think about that, I want to hurry, but the woods aren’t exactly giving me a friendly welcome.” Craig said, pausing for a moment to scan the woods.

“We need to keep following this path. To the left at the fork ahead will be to the Marquis’ old stronghold. We need to avoid that place like the plague.” Leviathan said. For someone so reluctant to come earlier, he is indeed very helpful. Then again, if he wasn’t, they would all be dead and six feet under. Or… With some bad luck, walking around with no life.

“Wait,” Lawrence said, as his user interface signalled a group of…

Wait, why are they labelled as ???

Literal question marks?

Lawrence walked forward slowly, gesturing for the two men to wait by the horses. As Lawrence neared the treeline, the near-dead bushes rustled.

Suddenly, the interface changed the ??? to Banshee.

“Sacred Fire!” Lawrence shouted, his hand instantly pointing at the bush. A jet of holy fire shot down from the sky, slamming into where the banshee had been concealing itself. A howling scream could be heard as the greenish blue wisp of a banshee drifted out, the outline of a feminine figure in tattered robes clad in white fire, her hand outstretched.

Another scream and the banshee falls to the ground, turning into a pile of black and purple goo.

“By the gods, that is a Screamer!” Leviathan said and Craig looked at him.

“You know too much. Been through here a lot of times?” Craig asked and Leviathan hesitated for a moment before nodding.

“Sometimes… When I find myself with very little money… I have to do some escorts along with the other groups… I’m not proud of it… But I have a family to feed.” Leviathan said and Craig waved him off.

“It’s fine, men do all sorts of things for their family. You don’t have to explain to me.” Craig said and Lawrence looked at the user interface. Marquis Donovan was Level 40. The Banshee was 35. If Lawrence could one shot even the banshee…

He frowned. He should have just used Pillars of Fire earlier on.

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“Oh well…” Lawrence mumbled, beckoning for the group to continue their journey.

As the trio progressed down the road, they came upon a smouldering wreck of what seemed to be a carriage wagon.

“A few days old,” Craig said, bending down to examine of the decapitated bodies and touching its’ skin. The decapitated body had the clothes of a …

“Squire huh,” Craig mumbled, holding up a dull sword in one of the hands of a boy who looked to not be a day over 12 at most. There were several more bodies strewn around. Lawrence had already checked to make sure none of them was just undead waiting to grapple the next unfortunate soul looking for loot or some kind person trying to help.

“Soldiers? I’d say from the size of this wagon and the number of people here… Your magic number didn’t work.” Lawrence said, inspecting the bodies.

Medicine check… Commencing…

Necrotic Energies present

Death Touch used…

Subject dead for 26 hours approximately

Lawrence breathed in deeply, taking a casual look at the wagon. However, it seemed as if there was nothing to distinguish where they could possibly come from.

“Hey Craig, I want to ask, there shouldn’t be too many knightly orders around here that have squires right?” Lawrence asked and Craig shook his head.

“I know where you are going with this, but just because they have squires and are most certainly dressed in plate armour, does not mean they are knightly orders. They could be a lord’s personal entourage, crusaders, paladins… All sorts. Well-equipped mercenaries can wear plate armour as well,” Craig explained and Lawrence fell silent, glancing at the decapitated boy as he forced back a feeling of disgust and fear.

“Let’s go,” Lawrence said, as the three continued on their way.

As they reached the crossroads, Lawrence and party made to turn the way which Leviathan had described as safe. It would have been uneventful, if not for a young boy screaming and running towards Lawrence.

"Halt! I said stop!" Craig shouted, loosing an arrow which struck the ground in front of the man. Lawrence squinted. He looked to be dressed in torn leather armour with an empty scabbard at the side.

"I-I-Don't shoot! Please! I have a message to deliver!" the young boy shouted, falling to his knees and begging. As Lawrence consulted the interface, it showed Squire, Level 3.

"Both your arms in the air, I'm coming over!" Lawrence shouted, raising both his sword and shield as he walked towards the young boy who was shaking. Craig moved behind a tree and nocked his bow while Leviathan followed behind, holding his own weapon.

"A-Are you the holy man? I have a message... F-From M-M-Marquis Donovan," the boy whimpered, his eyes swimming with tears. The holy man? Lawrence scratched his head.

"Maybe. Calm down, alright?" Lawrence said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Calm Emotions Spell used.

The boy's breathing slowly went back to normal and a bit of colour returned to his cheeks. However, he still looked as if he had his daylights scared out of him.

"What is the message?" Lawrence asked and the boy shivered for a moment.

"Holy man, I know not from which Order you hail from, but should you wish to free a group of young lasses and lads from my dungeons, come and challenge me. I await you, as the Marquis of Altis. We shall tell if you are coward or hero then," the boy said, perfectly reciting the message.

"I see," Lawrence said, looking upon the horizon. He could barely see the outline of a castle amidst the thickening fog.

"D-Don't go back there! It is a trap!" the boy shouted, clinging onto Lawrence's shoulder.

"Any five year old will tell you the same, Lawrence," Leviathan said and Lawrence for a moment, burst into laughter.

"He's lost it," Craig mumbled, walking over to the three of them.

"No, no. I just... I mean... If he really wanted to fight us that badly, he could have come look for us himself, he wouldn't send a young hostage to come and tell me that... Tell me, young boy, how did you receive the message? Did you see him at all?" Lawrence asked, suspicious that the Marquis Donovan had already been badly injured.

"H-He was wearing long robes today... And... He just.. Told me..."

Aha! Long robes to cover his injury from Lawrence's Turn Undead spell!

"Well then, Craig, I have a good mind to be a hero today, how about you?" Lawrence asked, turning to the archer whose mouth opened and closed.

"You seem different today. I got a good feeling about this one, so let's go!" Craig said and Leviathan nodded reluctantly.

"Boy, what's your name?" Lawrence asked, smiling kindly.

"D-Dunkirk Lee... Cupbearer to Father Karl Franz," the boy stammered.