Cailen could feel a malevolence directed at him. He knew instinctively that it wasn't part of this world. Its energy felt old, aged beyond mortal comprehension save for maybe the elves. Before he could make sense of the sensation a crashing noise across the clearing drew his attention. A shadowy grey blur rushed through the undergrowth that lined that side of the clearing. With a hiss and shriek, the wyrm leaped into the air. The tell-tale fwoop-fwoop of magic missiles spurred Cailen to action. He drew his sword and tracked where the missiles went. They crossed the clearing and dove into the brush, eliciting a howl of pain. Bursting forth from the undergrowth was a thing that had resembled a human once. Its grey flesh sagged as it quickly galloped across the clearing on all fours. It raged and screamed, a long, bright red tongue hanging from its mouth far enough that it drug across the ground. 

Another fwoop-fwoop of the pseudodragon's missiles broke Cailen's nearly hypnotized state. Confident in his abilities he rushed forwards. The missiles hit the thing in the face as the combatants neared one another. The monster reared back, seeming stunned and surprised. The opening evident to him, Cailen slashed down and across with all his strength. He meant to make the most of the opening and followed his devastating strike with a front kick, catching the monster in the thigh. The leg buckled under the force of the blow but the creature didn't go down. It merely growled its displeasure at being denied its meal. Pressing his advantage of momentum, Cailen brought his sword high. Chopping down with both hands, the blade flashed for his opponent's skull. With a hollow thunk, the blade crashed right through its unprotected head. The man, or monster, immediately dropped, not even bucking in its death throes.

Unsure what had just happened Cailen looked around for a moment. He didn't want to admit it to himself but he was sure that that thing resembled what haunted his dreams the night before. A monster of decaying flesh and human form. He wondered how this thing was possible and who or what had created it. Surely none alive practiced necromancy, it was less damning to turn traitor than philander with the types of devils that granted powers such as cursing others with undeath.

Another rush of motion with accompanying crashes and howls told Cailen it was time to go. The things were drawn in by the commotion. Howls and screeches echoed off the trees, replacing the merry bird songs. Quickly wiping the sticky black ichor off his blade he sheathed it to mount Honey. Another crash, much closer, caused the wyrm to shriek and loose more magic missiles.

He kicked at Honey's flanks, urging her to gallop away. With a frightened whiney Honey catapulted forward and in a few moments was likely charging faster than she had ever run before. The thunder of the massive shod hooves seemed to mirror his heartbeat as fear gripped him. He sensed them out there, lurking about in the trees. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see dark shapes darting about in the woods. They'd cross the road behind him occasionally, but he continued to flee towards Highcliff, praying that he'd run into a patrol. 

Desperately Cailen pushed the tired old workhorse harder and harder as other indistinct shapes joined the chase. Feral snarls and screeches filled the woods behind him. A howl of rage to his right caught his attention as one of the creatures launched itself from the side of the path, narrowly missing. The foul thing landed head first just in front of Cailen's mount. Honey's powerful stride didn't pause nor did she slow her pace. Heavy iron horseshoes slammed down, into the head of the abomination, trampling it into the mud. 

Another howl and a screech, another one of these strange man creatures lept from a nearby tree with a wild swipe. The attack missed its mark as Cailen pulled the reins away from that side. Both Cailen and Honey had avoided the attack, but unfortunately for Cailen, a large branch connected with his unprotected head. Dazed but somehow still maintaining his seat, he fought hard to clear his mind. The pain was exquisite, blinding flashes rolled across his vision. He felt the urge to empty his stomach then but shook his head. Willing himself to ignore the pain in his head, Cailen grabbed the reins once again.

He knew that Honey's stamina wouldn't last much longer. Leaning forward in the saddle he placed a hand on her powerful neck and started intoning spells to restore her endurance, speed, and confidence. It was something Cailen saved for emergencies since the spells could potentially carry Honey past a point that she could recover from. The longer the pursuit lasted the more it became obvious to Cailen that he'd have to stand and fight. He placed his hand on his chest and intoned another strength spell. It wasn't much and his magical abilities were very limited, but he knew from experience that it was better than nothing.

Desperation clawed at Cailen's heart, the feeling of being trapped nearly overwhelming him. The pair broke into another clearing, moments later the wyrm sailed overhead. The distant crashing of bodies charging through underbrush grew ever closer. This, this was where he'd make his stand. He dismounted and drew his sword, mentally preparing for the coming battle.

The first abomination broke the tree line, a gnoll with patchy fur and a vacant, slack-jawed expression. Seeing Cailen the thing howled, the vacant expression tightening, turning to one of unrelenting rage. 

"Come then, earn your meal, dog," Cailen growled through gritted teeth. 

Almost as if it had accepted the challenge the gnoll resumed its charge with fervor. As the undead thing got within range Cailen sidestepped a clumsy tackle. Punishing it for its pitiful attack, Cailen brought his blade down across its back. The blade drove easily through the rotting flesh and severed bone, barely pausing. He finished the turn and drew the blade from the things back with a flourish, resuming his ready position. Another of the monsters broke the tree line, then another and another. These did not pause but were spurred on by the first creature's howl. 

"Come get me!" Screamed Cailen in equal parts defiance and anger, "Come taste the blade of a Sentinel!"

Content with doing just that, the three lifeless monsters strode forward unabated. A crack of thunder sounded and one of the creatures launched backward as a bolt of pure energy slammed into its chest. It sailed through the air, crashing with a wet splat into a mighty ancient oak. The pseudo-dragon had begun utilizing more powerful spells. Bewildered Cailen spared a glance at it. The poor thing struggled to gain altitude for a moment, the toll of such a powerful spell too much for its wounded body to endure. 

The two that remained before him were both goblins, at least as far as Cailen could tell. They were about the right height and just as lanky, but their faces were peeled back. It seemed as though they'd been chewed on. Despite not having the luxury of being disgusted, Cailen's stomach turned. 

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For the first time in combat, Cailen found a reason for the discipline rituals Eamon would torment the initiates with. His muscles felt good, no tension despite holding the low defensive pose he was in. The monsters approached at a slower rate, their stilted, stuttering steps unsure as they sniffed the air looking for the source of the lightning bolt. Deciding to focus on Cailen, the monsters broke into a run, one had a hobbled leg, slowing it somewhat. 

Cailen stabbed ahead with his sword, the blade piercing the throat of the first monster. He turned the blade, adding sideways momentum to the collapsing undead. It dropped right into the path of its comrade, tripping it up on the hobbled leg. Exposed, the thing had no defense for the heavy booted kick to the back of the head. 

"Four down," Cailen said to himself, preparing himself for the horde he knew to be coming. The undergrowth came alive in the direction he had come from. Nearly a score of combined gnolls, goblins, and humans broke through the brush. Time stood still as Cailen and the horde regarded each other. He could see that all the things before him were in various stages of decay with not a scrap of cloth between the lot. 

Cailen roared in defiance and charged, knowing that despite his skill with the blade, even this number of frenzied, unfeeling combatants would overwhelm him. As the line of undead greedily awaited their meal a huge crash could be heard. The undead's attention shifted almost as one to the new noise. Never one to bypass a huge advantage, Cailen hacked into the neck of the first creature he came to. Spitting and cursing the rest to ruin and damnation he moved to the next with another precise cut to the neck. A third fell to a well-aimed blow as the undead focused on him again. He dropped back, positioning the fallen bodies between him and as many of the creatures as he could. 

One rushed in from his right only to find a crushing backhand, the flat of the blade fracturing the thing's skull as easily as it would porcelain. One from the left rushed forward, driven by hunger or rage. This one too, caught a punishing strike as Cailen reversed the momentum of his blade. The attack caught it under its raised arm. The blow sounded with a crunch of bone and a weak howl as the air was forced from its rotting lungs. This attacker fell, but still alive. It was as the fifth started to stalk in that Cailen took notice of the calamity at the back of the pack. 

A massive man in strange, brass-colored armor tore into the pack of ghouls. His whirling blades sending gore and limbs flying away. He was shouting in some unknown language and fought his way towards Cailen. 

Cailen was stunned at first, the sheer violence and speed of something so large seemed utterly unnatural. He shook his head remembering his place in things. A nude man with one arm and half a face lurched forwards, grabbing for Cailen. A deft spin of his blade from out to in coupled with a turn sent the man sprawling forwards. He stabbed down with his blade, quickly dispatching the clumsy thing. From his side, he heard Honey whiney and the wyrm shriek. The fwoop of magic missiles came at a rate that would have terrified Cailen if he were beneath the barrage. A few of the creatures had flanked them all, coming out from the treeline at a different place. 

Honey reared, smashing a heavy hoof down atop the skull of one of the undead that had approached. Coming down she clipped another, bearing it to the ground. Honey spun and bucked and kicked. She was empowered by Cailen's spells and showed it. A kick from her hind leg clipped one gnoll and sent it spinning to the ground. Another took one of Honey's massive iron-shod hooves to the chest, downing it and putting it out of the fight permanently.  

The wyrm spun circles between the undead, distracting them as it drilled into them with magical missiles. Cailen had to wonder why this thing spent so much of its energy on defending them. Why had this little creature fought so hard when it could have easily flown away?

Deciding that train of thought was for another time he turned his attention back to the fight at hand. He had just enough time to flinch away from a body sailing through the air to collide with a gnoll that had leaped into the air at him. The sound of bones breaking as the two forms tangled made Cailen's skin crawl. He stepped up the tangle of hissing and growling limbs, finishing them before moving to the next. 

The undead's numbers had dwindled significantly. Many lay about the ground growling with impotent rage. The brass clad berzerker slammed a fist into one creature's head while another was dispatched with the sweep of a huge, wicked-looking ax. Reversing the angle of the swing the massive man stepped through his falling foes and smashed the edge of the ax into the shoulder of yet another, nearly cleaving it in two.

One last enemy approached Cailen. This one a young woman, she looked to have been beautiful once, before her skin mottled and strips of flesh taken from her body. Madness flashed in her eyes as she reached for Cailen. Again he merely slapped the flat of his blade against her outstretched and overbalanced lunge. Falling, the woman turned after Cailen, grabbing with her other arm. The thing landed on its back and Cailen quickly put his heavy boot over its neck, plunging his blade through its eye.

Turning, Cailen made for the small group that still harassed Honey and the wyrm. As he ran, he heard the heavy pace of the brass giant that had turned the fight in his favor approaching from behind. Before Cailen could turn the man passed him, bowling heavily into the group. Bones and sinew snapped with the impact. Blades whizzed as they broke the air just before slamming into undead bodies. 

Cailen dove into the fray and the man turned, allowing Cailen a perfect opportunity to strike at a now overbalanced ghoul. The blade struck true, but Cailen had no time to admire his work. The brass warrior reached behind Cailen, blocking a diving monster's attack. The maneuver must have taken some degree of trust that Cailen would move to fill the defensive gap on the warrior's flank. 

Stepping into the gap, Cailen was greeted with another undead gnoll. The gnoll seemed surprised despite being little more than a walking corpse. It glanced up at Cailen with an odd expression, but it never saw the blade careening towards its neck. 

As the last of the undead creatures collapsed, Cailen made his way to Honey. She hadn't been wounded, but she'd approached her natural limits. Her breathing grew ragged as the effects of the spell began to wane. Fearing he'd asked too much of his friend, Cailen dug around in the saddlebag for the bag of enchanted oats. The oats had been soaked in concoctions of healing and would serve to restore much of the damage. 

Pulling the bag of oats out, Cailen moved to strap it to Honey's harness. The wyrm, obviously exhausted as well, landed heavily on his shoulder. It chirped plaintively, expressing its hunger. Cailen reached into the saddlebag once again he produced two strips of dried fish. When the wyrm sighted the fish it pranced excitedly on his shoulder.

"Ride, leave soon, more come," came the deep and gruff voice of the man in the strange armor.

"She needs these oats," Cailen said without turning to look at the man. "They will heal her, keep her moving. Why did you help me?"

"Brothers marched from mountain, one sick, make lie," Began the large man, his accent strange and halting. "Brother go mad, make others sick. Honor demand we make right."

"What is your name?" Cailen asked.

"I am Valk," He gestured to himself with a tight fist pressed to his chest plate."