Jeanne knelt near the edge of the forest, Benkin kneeling next to her with Hypatia and Silvius shortly behind. Pulling a couple of branched out of the way, Jeanne peered out into the camp they had raided the week before.

“You really think it’s wise to be back here so soon?” Silvius asked.

“They’re probably being as cautious as we are,” Jeanne replied, keep her gaze out towards the camp.

“And shouldn’t you still be recovering?” Hypatia asked.

“Doc said I shouldn’t be in bed all day,” Jeanne replied. “And he gave me something for the pain.”

“Did he really?” Silvius asked.

Jeanne turned to Silvius, narrowing one eye as it twitched slightly. “He did,” she said coldly.

“All right,” Silvius replied, leaning away from Jeanne. “I’ll take your word on that.”

Jeanne turned back to the camp, seeing some of the bodies from their last encounter still laying where they had fallen before. The stench of rotting flesh began filling the air, the hum of flies buzzing around the area. Murders of crows had been sating their appetites to their hearts’ content as they ate away.

Jeanne looked to Benkin, “What do you make of it?”

“Not sure,” he said, his eyes darting out over the scene. “You’d think they’d bury their own, if there was a still some presence here.”

“Some bandits have less loyalty to their own than others,” Jeanne replied.

“Aye,” Benkin said, “I was thinking that, too.”

“You think it’s a trap?”

“I want to say no, but I guess we won’t know until we get out there.”

“I do not feel comfortable with that statement,” Silvius followed.

Jeanne turned back around. “Would it help if I agreed with that?”

Silvius mulled the question over for a quick moment. “A little.”

“Benkin, I want you with me when I move in there. Silvius, Hypatia, I want you both to move around and see if there’s anything of note in any crate still in one piece.”

“What if we run into anyone?” Hypatia asked.

“Stab them in the face and hope they don’t get back up,” Jeanne said as she moved out of the brush and into the camp.

As the others followed, Jeanne could see the full extent of the destruction. There was a part of her wanting to feel some remorse for these men, these brigands left rotting to ash and waste. Here they would lay until their bodies no longer carried any semblance to what they once were. Decomposing into a clump of matter even the astute of hunter could not tell was once a creature; living, breathing, with thoughts and feelings of their own.

Here they would stay until the end of time. Where no one would come to mourn. To sing songs or make a toast to their memory. Their name and relevance no forever lost in this history of the world, save for a brief violent moment. Jeanne looked at the dead bandits, even the blotted corpse of the ogre they had slain and felt sympathy for them. Then recalled the old thought lingering in her thoughts, and the old anger began returning.

But it was harder for her to keep the anger here.

Here she saw not wyrd-born monsters but simply men. Dead men. Dead men who might’ve dreamed of lives beyond theft and other crimes. Men who might’ve longed for warm hearths and a warmer drink to keep away the unsheltered cold of night. Men who might’ve wanted simply to find a path of their own choosing, and not one dictated by one of a social class higher than them who knew little of the trials and tribulations the commoner faced.

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Jeanne grimaced as she pondered these thoughts. She rubbed her eyes, clearing her throat and spotted Silvius and Hypatia struggling to open a crate with a worn war-hammer. “That giving you trouble?” she asked, walking over.

“It’s not being very cooperative,” Silvius said with gritted teeth as he futilely tried to open. Jeanne walked over and grabbed the war-hammer and in a few swift swings, smashed the top until most of the pieces began flying away or falling into the recess inside.

“That was … effective,” Silvius said, looking at Jeanne with growing concern.

“Sometimes you got to smack the bastard around to get them to cooperate,” Jeanne said, handing Silvius back his hammer.

Peering inside, they found a selection of artwork resting inside of the box. Silvius’s eyes widened as he gasped and stepped back. “What is it?” Hypatia asked him.

“These were the works that the convoy lost last month!” Silvius said in a hushed voice.

“No,” she said, taking the same whispering tone as Silvius.

“Why are we whispering, everyone’s dead?” Jeanne asked.

“Oh sorry,” Silvius said, shaking his head, “These are some of the university’s most prized art pieces. Some of these are hundreds of years old.”

Jeanne let a long whistle before taking a step back. Silvius and Hypatia gave her a perplexed look. “I destroy things with, as Cid says, savant-like ease. Probably best I don’t break those.”

“Well, much appreciated,” Silvius said, throwing a tarp over the pieces. “I think we can take a cart from around here and drop them off at the inn before we can take them back to the university.”

“You think the Lord Wrecker is going to give you something for all that?” Benkin asked from one of the other piles of crates.

“That’s Lord Rector, and you know that,” Silvius replied, “and … I don’t know. They can be a bit finnicky about these matters.”

“Finnicky!” Jeanne blurted. “The hell do they need to be finnicky about? You found the damned thing, you should be given something.”

“This is still technically the university’s expedition, so anything we find belongs to them,” Silvius said with some regret.

Jeanne looked at him with a narrowed again. “I might be paying this Lord Reeker a visit.”

“You mean Rector,” Hypatia said, gently pointing her finger to Jeanne.

“Yeah, he’ll be that, too,” Jeanne said as she walked off to another part of the encampment.

She noted Benkin pulling off the top to one of the crates, looking inside and removing a large pouch of something metallic jingling. Jeanne came up to him and saw a multitude of bags filling the entire space of box. Jeanne looked up to Benkin, “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“I’m a little tempted,” Benkin replied, “but I don’t think we have enough pockets for everything.”

“Not with that attitude we won’t,” she replied.

“But how much do you think is in here?” Benkin asked.

“I don’t know, but I think it’s enough to fund a kingdom a few times over.”

“Really?” Benkin asked.

“Probably not, but I like to dream.”

“Fair enough.”

“But I’d have to think these bandits must’ve been active here for a while to collect all this coinage,” Benkin said as he pulled a few more bags out.

“You think this was for something particular or just to gather for gold’s sake?”

“Couldn’t tell you,” Benkin said. “Bandits aren’t exactly known for being the deepest of people.”

“That’s true,” Jeanne said. “I wonder what else they’ve collected here?”

“I’m curious why they left it all here,” Benkin said. “You’d think they’d want this in some place where no one could happen upon it out here.”

“Yeah,” Jeanne said, looking around the area. “This is almost too convenient to a find.”

Benkin looked down and moved his head forward slightly. “Hmm,” he hummed inquisitively.

“What is it?” Jeanne asked.

“I think I found something,” Benkin said, pointing to a slithering trail running along the ground caused by something being dragged across the earth.

Jeanne’s eyebrows perked up. “Now that’s interesting,” she said.

Benkin turned his gaze up towards where the path entered through the outlier of the forest, disappearing into the shadow of trees. The two turned to Silvius and Hypatia, Benkin saying, “We’re going to check this out, see where it leads.”

“Should we come with?” Silvius asked.

“Only if we’re screaming to the heavens,” Jeanne replied.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Hypatia followed.

“We’ll try,” Benkin replied.

Once inside the woods, it began intensely denser. Younger trees seemingly surrounding them, with their leaves whispering softly as the wind moved around. Old leaves and pieces of decaying branches and bark rested along the floor. Jeanne stepped slowly forward, trying to keep her movements from making any noise.

Benkin hunched down, using his sword to help him adjusting his weight as he lowered himself slowly. Jeanne took a knee and peered out over a clump of bushes. There was a large stone wall stretching up into the sky, with the visages of trees overlapping over the edge. At the bottom of the rock wall, Jeanne saw two men standing by a large jagged opening.

“Well, that’s something,” Benkin whispered.

“You can say that again,” Jeanne whispered, looking out towards the opening.

“I think we figured out where they’re moving their things,” Benkin said to Jeanne.

“If not then I need to pick a new profession.”

“We should get back to the others before we get their attention.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” Jeanne said as the two slowly slunk away.