The wind cut across the moors, chilling the air, bringing the stench of festering flesh to the expedition. As a group, they had gathered in a circle around a bloated, decaying man dressed in the tatters of homespun clothing and a gambeson. Some grimaced and looked away—fixing their eyes on anything but the corpse—while others watched as the medical staff crouched around the cadaver, like crows in a field.

Their long, beak-like masks completed the image.

“Well, whoever he was, I don’t think he was this Fool Sir Swift’s looking for,” Meikara said as she clinically turned the corpse, examining the skin.

Each medic poked and prodded the remains in the same way that children do when they find a dead frog on the ground, except the healers were using steel tools instead of sticks. Alex was attentive to every move they made, using the situation to learn as much as he could for when it came time to dissect monsters and gather specimens.

It wasn’t the pleasantest of tasks.

“I’d say-” Howser turned the man’s chin with a gloved hand. Insects oozed from discoloured flesh. “-he was in his mid twenties and on hard times. There’s signs of malnutrition.”

“Possibly dehydration as well,” House said, after casting a spell and passing his hands over the body. A band of light followed his fingers, tracing the dead man’s shape. “And there’s signs of old injuries: looks like a knife wound to the right thigh, healed ribs…he has multiple scars. I think this fellow led a rough life…maybe a bandit or soldier of some sort.”

“Deep lacerations to the base of the spine appears to be the cause of death,” Meikara said, drawing clinical nods from House and Howser. “From the shape of the wounds, I’d say they were made by claws. As for how long he's been dead…taking into account the body’s state of decomposition and the dampness in the region…it’s hard to tell. Crows have already been feasting on him: I don’t see signs of other scavengers around, like droppings and the like, otherwise there’d be nothing left except a few bones. What do you think?” She looked at her colleagues. “Three weeks maybe?”

“About that, I’d say,” House agreed. “Can’t say what it was that killed him though, the claw marks are too big for a beast-goblin and too small for anything like a wyvern. One of The Ravener’s monsters maybe…”

Professor Jules cleared her throat, drawing their attention.

“Any thoughts as to what he was doing out here?” she asked. “If he was a bandit, then there’s little for him to steal in this barren place.” Her eyes scanned the hills with a hint of excitement. “Perhaps there’s a ruin he was trying to raid nearby.”

“There are ruins all over Thameland,” Theresa spoke up, and the entire expedition turned toward her.

As the only Thameish members of the group, what she and Alex had to say carried some weight. The huntress placed her hands on the hilt of her great- grandfather’s swords. “One of my ancestors hunted a bandit king through the forest a long time ago, and his hideout was in a lost keep that wasn’t on any map. It’s possible there’s something out here that’s been lost to time.”

“Indeed,” Baelin cut in. “With each rise and fall of civilizations, the ruins of the world multiply. Perhaps there is something out here, but what is of more interest to me is the whereabouts of whatever killed this fellow. If it was one of The Ravener’s monsters, and it’s still about, we’ll be able to begin our study of them sooner than anticipated when we capture or kill it. Are there any signs of disease? I do not detect any magics lingering upon him.”

“Nothing more than simple rot,” Meikara said. “As long as we keep the body away from our provisions, it should be safe to handle.”

“Very well, then once you are finished with your investigation, I shall transport the remains to the encampment. What we learn from them might be of interest, then we can release the body to Sir Swift. Perhaps he might know the man. Now, come: if there is a beast out there for us to find, I would rather search it out sooner than later.”

Alex glanced at Theresa. “You get the feeling that won’t be the last corpse we find out here?”

Her grip tightened on her swords. “I’d be shocked if it was.”

Their journey lasted a little more than an hour after they found the body, and Alex’s feet were glad it was over: they were starting to complain. The trek had taken the wind out of some of the less fit expedition members—who panted like hounds on a hot summer's day—and even his better conditioned legs had begun to burn towards the end.

Baelin finally stopped on top of a tall—mercilessly so for the exhausted—wide, hill that overlooked the surrounding terrain. Several rises of granite poked through the hilltop, but the surface was mostly flat, with enough of a slope for rainwater or melting snow to drain away from their encampment. Earth magic would be used to adjust the slope as they set up.

“This is it. Welcome to our initial staging area,” the chancellor announced. “We will begin our surveys here: but for now, our surveyors may have a brief rest while other teams begin setting up camp.” Baelin looked at the surveyors. “Recover your strength for a bit, then you’ll be tasked with exploring several areas close by: I expect thorough documentation of whatever you find. I want to know flora, fauna, mineral deposits—if any—and all natural resources you uncover today. Should you find individuals or creatures capable of speech, you are permitted to parley with them, though I would suggest that if negotiations become in-depth, that you alert me through your messenger construct. If there are hostiles about, capture or destroy them as you see fit. Remember, use your common sense and training to evaluate the situation.”

His eyes turned to Alex’s group. “Team 3, for today, I would like you to explore the immediate area around us. However, tomorrow—when you are fresher—there is a large bog to the south called Witherhand Bog that must be investigated. Such places can serve as lairs for multiple monsters, and this one was the location of a dungeon that was eliminated by Thameland’s Heroes. All of the entrances were collapsed by the Thameish army, but one never knows what might have moved in since. So tomorrow, search the bog and confirm that everything has in fact been cleared out.”

He paused, glancing toward the blanket-covered corpse as it was transported to the centre of the camp on a forcedisk.

“…perhaps you might even find whatever killed our friend there.”

The bog reeked of dead fish and foulness.

Grassy hills gave way to a lowland filled with partly-stagnant water stinking of peat, decay, and worse. Mud bridges criss-crossed the bog, and these were covered with rotting plant-life: from some rose bent, gnarled oaks that looked ready to stalk through the muck to hunt the uninvited. Two-toned moss floated on the murky water, occasionally disturbed by the splash of an amphibian or fish moving beneath the water’s surface.

At least, that’s what Alex hoped they were: the bog was like something from a sinister fairy tale where witches lurked, hungering for the flesh of innocents. The previous day’s exploration of the hills near the camp had been a lot pleasanter: the area, while damp, contained nothing more dangerous than some animal bones and flocks of hungry-looking crows.

Their first night in camp had been quiet, letting them unwind for a bit before everyone fell into a much needed sleep. It was up bright and early to grab a proper meal in the morning, then gear up and head off to explore the bog Baelin had assigned them to take a look at. Alex took a deep breath.

The chancellor had left for Generasi.

No spell-mark would be there to whisk them away from danger.

They’d have to rely on their own skills and abilities now, but Alex thought that they were ready.

Or at least, he hoped they were ready.

“Don’t like the look of this place,” Thundar said, testing the terrain with a hoof. The ground made a sucking sound, almost like a hungry mouth. “Ugh, it stinks in here.”

“This water is foul. Not good for swimming. Not for me,” Grimloch said. “The faster we go through, the better.”

“You and I agree on that, Grimloch. Although, I think I shall avoid going through it at all,” Isolde said, casting a flight spell on herself, Svenia, and Hogarth then rising about ten feet above the bog’s surface.

Looks of jealousy pierced her, then Khalik and Thundar looked at Alex with pleading expressions.

“I don’t want to use any flight potions yet,” he said, patting his bag. “We’ll need them to last all three days that we’re here. That means, we'll just have to rough it.”

Even as he said those words, Alex took one look at the water and quickly had Claygon pick him up and put him on one of his shoulders.

“Oh, what-That is cheating!” Khalik pointed at him. “What happened to roughing it?”

“Claygon’s shoulder’s pretty hard on my butt, I am roughing it.”

“I’m going to push you into the bog,” Thundar said.

“Look, the longer we stand out here complaining about the stink, the more time this is going to take.” Theresa walked toward one of the muddy land-bridges—tested it, then moved forward. There was a squelch as her boots sank in past her ankles, but she didn’t sink any deeper. Sniffing the air then shaking his heads, Brutus followed his master. His legs sank deeper than hers, but he kept ploughing ahead.

“Right, best get things started.” Alex summoned an Aervespertillo onto the ground beside Claygon. The air shimmered and wind kicked up then a long-jawed creature—the size of a large dog—appeared with a pair of wings having a span even wider than Najyah’s. Its face was eyeless, and massive, pointed ears dominated the sides of its skull.

It let out a high-pitched sound that was like the whine of a tea-kettle, and its ears twitched: each swivelled 180 degrees around the sides of its skull, testing the air for different noises.

“Fly ahead of us,” Alex said. “Scout the area; if you see anything, screech twice as a warning.”

The creature gave another short, high-pitched screech and flew off, gliding over the swamp.

“You as well, Najyah. Look for danger, and keep high,” the prince said, releasing the giant eagle, sending her soaring over the swamp. He sighed. “I swear, the first third-tier spell I am learning will be Flight magic.”

The group cast different defensive spells and strode into the bog. Not everyone had Orb-of-Air around their heads. Given Theresa, Thundar, Brutus and Grimloch’s keen sense of smell, it made sense for them to use it to continually check the air.

Alex had Claygon plunge into the water.

Schloop.

His massive weight pulled him down up to his chest, but his powerful limbs let him churn through the muck. With a grunt of displeasure, Grimloch stepped into the water next, pushing through the moss and mud.

“Make sure you watch out for leeches!” Meikara called. “If you find any, or maybe I should say if any find you, tell me right away!”

Thundar snorted in distaste as his hooves sank into the muck of a land-bridge opposite Theresa’s, then he plodded over to a scraggly oak and began snapping off dead branches. “Here, we’ll want to test what the ground’s like around us.” He tossed one to each team member as they streamed ahead.

Meikara and Khalik followed him. Isolde flew above—scanning the waters—while Alex sat on Claygon’s shoulder taking notes on the surrounding terrain. He had a booby-trapped slumber potion close at hand.

“It’s real quiet,” Thundar said. “Too quiet.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Alex said.

In the distance, a head slowly rose from a patch of moss, just high enough for its eyes to watch the interlopers picking their way across land like frightened children.

Nostrils flared and a long tongue licked jagged teeth.

Were they bandits, maybe? Soldiers from the kingdom? Adventurers?

Why had they come to her territory?

Perhaps…perhaps they had come to trade. That would be good. She had too many of the useless round shinies and metal things in her lair; her sisters had complained about the clutter she lived with. Yes, yes. Such things were tempting to humans and their ilk, and maybe they could provide her with something proper in return.

The green things were the right size, but too foul: they needed much pickling to be palatable. Then there was the scaled, little thing caged in her lair: its screams of fear provided good amusement. Too much amusement for it to be eaten too quickly.

But these folk might provide something better, if they were good to their word; the last of their kind she’d dealt with had tried to trick and betray her. His corpse would be feeding the birds now. Yes, yes. Best to look on the bright side of things and hope these would be more reasonable.

She could sense magics coming from them, but that might just mean they would be more open to bargaining with someone of her kind. And if not? She was confident that her servants would drive them off.

Slipping back beneath the water, she imagined what fine things they might bring to her with their pretty, pretty magic.

Youthful flesh would be nice; it had become so rare since the black orbs and monsters had come.

It had been too long since she’d had a truly fine meal.