The leaves gently rustled in the wind. A delicate spring breeze helped create a peaceful painting as the still drowsy sun of the morning started to wake up the inhabitants of the forest while accompanied by the chirps and tweets of the birds and their songs.

The lively movements of critters could be heard among the branches and the rays of sunlight filtering trough the dense canopy shined upon ancient soil.

The day was probably going to be one much like the others that came before it.

Uneventful and devoid of human intervention. A small corner of the world mostly forgotten by the majority of civilization.

Until it wasn’t.

It came from the west. At first a feeling, an instinct was all that warned the fauna of the change in the quiet of the woods. A presence of something that didn’t belong. The sound of something that wasn’t seen or heard in the area for quite some time.

A human walked trough the trees at a slow pace. There was no uncertainty in his step nor hesitation in choosing his path while his observant ebony eyes remained trained on his the surrounding flora, looking for herbs and mushrooms of value or use.

The figure occasionally slowed his advance to examine and gather some of the bounty of the forest with careful and methodical precision. While his attention never fully leaving his surroundings and on the lookout for possible dangers.

His fingers deftly packed the newly acquired ingredients and stored them in a leather bag which hanged at his side.

The man stood taller than most, his height reaching a few inches above 6 feet and while slim it still presented an intimidating figure. The tip of his black pointed boots barely emerged from the edge of his long dark robes which dragged on the ground, unnaturally sliding along the uneven vegetation without getting stuck.

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In the comfortable weather the hood of the cloak was left hanging on his back, unneeded, leaving his long wavy hair to fall on his shoulders like rivers of dark brown, a sharp contrast to his pale complexion.

The wizard suddenly halted and his gaze rose to the sky peering trough the leaves. His head turned slightly to the side as the chirping of birds where quickly replaced by a disturbing lack of sound.

The snapping of a few fallen branches was all that heralded three shapes emerging from the cover of bushes surrounding the figure.

Two gray wolves approached from the sides while the third one, of darker coat and slightly bigger in stature, stalked his back. Wolves were not rare in the area but the missing patches of flesh and their empty and unresponsive eyes might have been clues to their nature.

The big wolf got closer to the figure, its missing throat did not emit any sound as the dark powers that animated it compelled the beast to move forward. The tall mage barely acknowledged the creature without any change in his expression as it came to a halt at his side, tame and docile. He ran his hand trough the fur of the dead beast, avoiding the left side of its face, the exposed rotten flesh somehow not emitting the overpowering smell of decay that would have plagued a decomposing carcass.

His attention was still focused on the sky and as a shimmer of magic passed trough his eyes, turning them green for a moment, the first hints of a smile emerged from his otherwise neutral expression.

He was close.

The first signs of his goal were the half buried fragments of a ruin, landmarks that had long been reclaimed from the surrounding vegetation. He started walking again, this time at an increased pace. His undead companions tightening the ring around him as he neared his destination.

A dilapidated building peeked trough the trees, abandoned from mortals and gods alike for probably decades. The forgotten place of worship, probably a small church in its heyday, completely lacked its east and north walls, the roof long lost to the fires that had destroyed it in the first place.

With a clumsy flap of wings a pitch black crow descended on the ground, almost crashing in front of the wizard. Its empty eye sockets flickered with green flames as a pale hand picked up the useful scout and placed it on his left shoulder.

The crumbled state of the ruin didn’t discourage the mage. He advanced with renewed vigor, the black zombified wolf leading a few feet in front of him, and approached the back of the structure. He reached the section that once housed the now shattered altar and commanded the wolves in a soft voice to begin clearing the rubble.

Once they were done he knelt on the ground behind it and muttered a few arcane words as his hands brushed ground. The dust unnaturally rushed away from him, clearing a portion of the floor.

His slender fingers grasped a pebble and knocked on the floor a few times. His lips curved upwards as a hollow sound answered his strikes.

He was certain now.

The path to his prize laid underneath.