“Hey, we never asked for your name earlier. My apologies,” Ariah asked the silent guard who had spoken earlier in the day.

She spoke with hesitation, “Shina, my name is Shina.” She looked to the ground, a flicker of fear in her eyes.

“Look up, Shina. There is no need for any fear or negativity that may linger in your mind. My name is Rokas, and I have been to your family's shop quite a few times in the town center. Hell, that’s where I got most of my socks and coats from.” Rokas chuckled, his arms behind his head. “Anyways, your family may have left behind some kind of memorabilia if it wasn’t destroyed. I say we should try and find their old shop or your home here and see if we can find something, sound good?”

A glimmer of hope shone in Shina’s eyes, and a bit of a smile appeared as she thought of seeing her old home once again. She prayed that the damage done wasn’t enough to take their family remnants from her.

The welcoming wooden archway with a sign attached that had the word "Dockton" hung in front of the group. The backside of the archway and sign were tainted with black dust from the burning of the town. The once-trodden dirt paths that made up most of Dockton’s roads were also littered with the blackness of smoke dust.

“By the two moons…” Rokas sighed. As everybody looked around, the perspective of Dockton left an immense distaste for what remained. This would unfortunately lessen the hope that Shina possessed mere moments ago.

Elias cleared his throat to gain the party’s attention. “I believe it is in our best interest to split up into two groups. There are nine of us. Rokas, you take four of the guards including Shina. Ariah and I will work with the other two guards and scatter around looking for anything dead or alive. I’m certain we will have plenty of burials that we will have to do.”

“Yes, sir!” The six guards shouted with the Starch Guard salute.

Rokas, Shina, and the three other guards began to walk straight to the town center where most of the trading, bargaining, and local events took place. Elias, Ariah, and their two guards started on the southernmost perimeter, scouting through the burnt homes and small shops. A gust of harsh wind began to thrust through the town as they started their search, like an oddity acknowledging their presence.

“These poor people, I wish I could’ve been here in their time of need. A brutish ambush by the orcs during the day… how did they reach the town without being noticed by ship?” Rokas asked aloud.

“They didn’t come here on orcish ships. They had somehow managed to take two Saintsland galleons. There were hundreds of them onboard, cloaking themselves with their enemy's garbs. It’s sickening and cowardly,” Shina responded.

“So you had seen them board the docks then?” Rokas inquired.

Shina looked to the sky, her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her left cheek, and her black hair flowing in the wind. “Yes, I was one of the first to notice who they were. It isn’t often that the Saintsland army ever docked here unless they were just using us as a resting point to reach the elven lands, but the orcs didn’t reveal themselves or blow their war horns until about a hundred of them were already on the ground. We scattered in fear, screaming as arrows were shot from the ships, orcish shamans casting spells from the deck, and their warriors slaughtering our people.” She stopped speaking, her lips trembling at the memory of the terrifying moment.

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Rokas looked at Shina with utmost sympathy. “Say no more. Let us make it to your shop first. Just know I am very glad you survived and made it to Starch in time. Though I am unsure why they would attack an independent town like Dockton, I would like to believe those brutes of a species don't require much reasoning for their vicious ways. Come on, let us find some semblance of peace.”

They were closing in on the town center when they realized that there were still barrels of produce, old fish, and vegetables plagued the air with their stench. Shockingly, no bodies could be seen. However, the splatters of dried blood stained various parts of the ground and walls of shops or homes. Arcane runic spells were etched into many of the buildings' walls. This was an onslaught; these orcs had something to prove, but not to the humans.

As Rokas, Shina, and the other three searched the town center, the other group discovered a home that miraculously appeared untouched by the sketches of battle. The door was locked and barricaded, windows covered; something was being hidden here, and the twins wouldn’t be fooled into believing otherwise.

Ariah attempted to use her needle threader spell to pick the lock to the front door and hopefully bash through the barricaded entrance, but with no luck, it seemed there was also a magical barrier placed on the home. Upon further searching, Elias found a wooden trap door covered by crates and barrels on the backside of the house. This opened with ease, the first thing to go their way since they entered the wretched town.

“Hey, you guys might wanna see this!” Elias spoke with urgency. Ariah and the two guards rushed to his side, peering into the dark abyss of the trapdoor. One of the guards pulled out a torch and queued the other guard to light it with their flint and stone. With the torch now lit, the guard dropped it into the darkness. It fell for about five seconds before the thud of the torch hit the stone floor beneath them. “Weird,” Elias whispered.

There had to be something down there, or someone. Only time could tell as they started climbing down the ladder one by one. Ariah, Elias, and their two soldiers descended the creaking wooden ladder, each step echoing through the narrow shaft as they made their way down. The dry air grew thicker, almost oppressive, as they descended, carrying with it a faint, acrid scent of earth and stone. The further they went, the more the air seemed to leech moisture from their skin, leaving their throats parched and their lips cracked.

The stone walls that framed the shaft were rough-hewn, their surfaces jagged and uneven, carved hastily by ancient hands. Tiny fissures and crevices crisscrossed the stone, housing small deposits of dust and grit that had collected over the years. Every touch against the wall left a fine layer of gray residue on their fingers, a testament to the centuries of neglect.

As they reached the bottom, their boots crunched softly against the packed dirt floor of the empty room. The room itself was stark and bare, its earthen floor undulating slightly with the contours of the underlying rock. The smell of soil was stronger here, mingling with the musty odor of age-old mildew, creating an atmosphere that felt both stale and ancient.

In the dim light, cast by two flickering torches mounted on either side of the room, shadows danced erratically across the stone walls. The flames' movements cast an eerie, wavering glow, highlighting the rugged textures and casting deep, shifting shadows in the crevices. The torches themselves were crudely made, their bases thrust into iron sconces that were rusted and corroded, their flames sputtering and hissing as they consumed the limited air.

The lone door stood directly opposite the ladder, its wooden surface scarred and weathered. Heavy iron bands reinforced its structure, each rivet a dark spot against the grain of the wood. The door seemed almost alive in the torchlight, its surface appearing to pulse and breathe with the flickering flames.

The room was silent, save for the occasional pop and crackle from the torches, and the soft, echoing drip of water from somewhere far above. This silence, combined with the oppressive dryness and the weight of the stone walls, created a palpable tension. It was as if the room itself held its breath, waiting for the intruders to make their next move.

“These torches are lit? I thought Dockton had been left vacant since the attack, or at least you would assume so…” Elias spoke softly.

Running her fingers down the wood door, trying to detect any magic, Ariah tried gaining sight of what was beyond the door by the small cracks that shuttered through. “I couldn’t agree more, but perhaps this was a villager that had this hidden for cases like this. What should we do, knock or just let ourselves in?”

As she let the words out, one of the guards that accompanied them brought himself to simply kick open the door, and with a thundering crack they laid eyes on a cartography room with nobody inside.