It was late in the evening when Kaleb stumbled into the walled courtyard of the Rotwald castle. What little moonlight managed to squeeze through the parapets and over the castle walls did little to brighten his pale expression. He threw back his head to take one last drink from his wine skin – for courage, or maybe to try and forget himself. Then, with the distant gaze of a drunkard, he took a long look around the interior of the courtyard and… laughed.

“What good was all this stone, Lord Rotwald,” he mumbled to himself. “You’re still dead. And it won’t save us either when the beast comes.”

The fortifications of Castle Rotwald were impressive to look at, but they had been constructed a long time ago – for wars that never came and in defense against siege warfare that was no longer practiced.

But the location itself was as defensible as they came. The castle rested atop of a steep granite cliff, the tallest side of which reached some twenty meters above the street level. Surrounding it was the city of Hadel with its own set of stone walls, which – while not comparable to the siege walls of the castle – offered an added layer of protection to the rulers of this ancient estate.

The city of Hadel was the largest remaining community in the Rotwald County, but that was nothing to boast about when considering the general state of affairs in this part of the kingdom. At this point in time having any people at all was a welcome state of affairs for a marsh noble. Impoverished and politically insignificant, the ruler of the Rotwald County, just like the other marsh nobles, was recognized by the King, but never considered in the grand scheme of things.

At the root of the problem was the geography of the Rotwald estate. It was situated in the middle of the great marshlands that spanned the westernmost reaches of the kingdom. This land had no strategic value or resources to plunder, which was an excellent deterrent against banditry, but worked equally well to repulse traders. Over the centuries its population had dwindled to a point where any force raised within the county would amount to almost nothing on the battlefield. Likewise, the taxes collected here were but a pittance for the royal treasury – a footnote in their ledgers reminding the treasurers that there was at least one person still alive in that dreary plot of land so far away.

It was a hollow place with an impressive castle that no one cared to conquer. Had there been a siege for the possession of the keep, the Rotwalds might have weathered it behind their thick walls, but treachery was something that it could have never provided protection from.

The age old fortification that had for so long served to reassure the safety of the Rotwald people now had a new master – Kaleb’s employer. With the Rotwalds dead or on the run, Duke Steinfeld – their liege lord – had taken up residence in the keep of his once stubborn vassal. Now garrisoned by his men this fortification stood at the center of the city of Hadel and provided an excellent position from which to ensure its submission following their lord’s demise.

Kaleb looked up at the clear night sky as he passed through the gatepost. The courtyard beyond stood empty, save for the filth and muck that line the ground. No one would be able to tell that a battle had taken place here only a few days ago. If examined closely, a few dark spots of congealed blood could still be discovered, where the blood had flowed down the slight inclination of the cobblestone towards the gatepost.

For hundreds of years the storm drains carved into the ground had served to funnel the rainwaters out of the courtyard and down into the city streets below. A light rain had fallen recently as well – the night right after the slaughter. In its wake the blood of the old lords had been nearly washed away. In the Duke’s mind, this had been the last time that Rotwald blood traveled the streets of Hadel.

All that was left was for Melvin’s party to bring back the body of one Victorian Rotwald – the one member of the house that had managed to escape the slaughter.

Kaleb coughed up something vile and nasty, and spat it out in the direction of the nearest storm drain. He staggered across the courtyard, followed by a group of the Duke’s men. The four soldiers kept a safe distance, however, not letting their guard down just because the man was visibly drunk. No one was stupid enough to tempt fate around a man as vile and dangerous as Kaleb.

“That’s right,” Kaleb amused himself, “Fear me.”

High above on the ramparts that surrounded the courtyard Kaleb spotted several soldiers armed with crossbows. The sentries followed his drunken movements from their vantage point with their weapons pointed down at him.

“Are you really that scared of me, eh?” he asked. “You have no idea of what a true monster is!”

He frowned. “Screw it! Shoot me! See if I care.”

Overcome with a powerful sensation of nausea, Caleb fell down on his knees and barfed loudly all over the cobblestone road.

The four soldiers escorting him stopped a few feet away and patiently waited for the rogue to finish. Most of them looked the other way in either disgust or out of fear of insulting the repulsive man.

While Kaleb was still on his knees, fighting his sickness, his escorts were approached by one of the soldiers stationed inside the courtyard.

“Where did you find him?” the guardsman asked. He covered his nose to try and spare himself the disgusting odor.

One of the soldiers escorting Kaleb leaned in closer to answer. He spoke softly, “Kaleb was picking fights with the locals at the tavern down by the south gate.”

“He hit the first tavern in sight on his return?”

“Aye, when we went to get him–”

“You’re not as quiet as you think you are,” Kaleb interrupted them. “Don’t talk about me behind my back like you know me! I’ve killed men far greater than you two for lesser offenses.”

That seemed to have shut up the soldiers for good.

“Cowards,” Kaleb said and spat on the ground.

Having wiped his mouth on his sleeve Kaleb looked up at the recent addition to the exterior of the keep. A dozen cages hung from the stone walls of the courtyard, their decomposing occupants feeding the crows by daylight to remind the citizens of their loyalty towards the new ruler. The Duke of Steinfeld was now in charge of this stretch of marshland and he was keen to drive that point home to any would be dissenters.

“How cute,” Kaleb scoffed. “Still a better fate than running into that demon...”

He then directed his attention towards the main entrance of the keep and the two figures that had just emerged from it.

“Where is Melvin?” the first man asked. He was well dressed and groomed. “Why did you not seek me out upon your arrival?

A lot is at stake here, and I won’t tolerate being made to wait.” He frowned having realized Kaleb’s current condition, “The very least on the likes of you.”

The nobleman addressing him was Kaleb’s employer, Duke Ferdinand Steinfeld – the mastermind behind the elimination of the Rotwald house on the pretense of treason.

At the Duke’s side was a tall man dressed in a long dark brown leather coat that was fastened together tightly around his torso by numerous belts and buckles. They were not, however, excess decorations as each and every belt housed several scrolls, vials and other assorted items for easy access. Wearing a leather hat of a matching color with a wide rim, the mysterious man shadowed the Duke as he approached Kaleb. His face was covered by a slightly faded green scarf.

The man in brown also carried a small quiver of bolts sown into his coat above his left thigh and an ornate steel plated crossbow slung over his back that glistened in the moonlight. A pair of swords hung by his waist that shone a little too bright to have been made of plain old steel.

Silver alloy blades. I’d love to get my hands on some of those… A witch hunter, huh? Kaleb licked his teeth in disappointment, Not worth the trouble.

One of the soldiers escorting Kaleb stood at attention as he reported the situation to the Duke, “We–” he gave Kaleb a quick look, “–we found him heavily drunk at the Cheerful Maid tavern, My Lord.”

“Shut your face hole!” Kaleb barked at the soldier. He swallowed the bitter taste of vomit, rose to his feet and staggered towards the nobleman. “I can explain myself.”

The witch hunter reached for his swords.

“At ease, Yarek,” the Duke raised his hand, “I am in a good mood this evening – late as it is. So I will listen to his excuses. For now…

We can decide on what to do with him later.”

“Thank you, My Lord,” Kaleb bowed his head. Even he was forced to observe proper etiquette when addressing someone with the power and influence of the Duke. Even more so, since the man was his employer.

“That is close enough,” the Duke lowered his hand slightly, signaling that he could give the order to attack at any moment.

Kaleb stopped. “As you command, My Lord.”

“I didn’t ask for pleasantries, rogue. What I want to hear from you are answers.

What happened to Melvin? Where is Victorian’s body?”

Kaleb bowed his head once more, “Aye… We were attacked, you see. I was the only survivor.”

“Attacked? By who?” The duke waved his hand at the carrion cages hanging above them. “We’ve killed damn near everyone who could have opposed us already! By the Oblivion, I even ordered some random filth ridden peasants to be rounded up as hostages if the locals had any more bright ideas about who’s in charge now.”

The witch hunter stepped up, speaking in a deep voice, “It couldn’t be the case that Richter managed to somehow overpower your party, rogue? There were only the three of them. How did you fail? Entertain me.”

A flurry of insults came to Kaleb’s mind, but the held back, knowing that it was probably not the right place and time to be reckless with his fortune.

I met a demon and escaped alive! I’m not going to let this fat, easy life loving bastard have my head for it.

Ferdinand Steinfled was a little on the obese side, but that was the norm among the wealthy and powerful of his age and stature. Well in his forties, the man had long since given up on his body. The wide and far praised feasts held by the nobility at his castle did not help to improve this aspect of his health either.

That being said, he did not look weak.

The Duke addressed the witch hunter, “Maybe there was a patrol unaccounted for? Could they have run into some of Rotwald men out there?”

Yarek shook his head in dismissal. “Unlikely. We counted the bodies twice before burying them. Aside from a few men at arms that we know for a fact were tending to their own lands at the time of our attack, there was no one missing.”

“How then?” the Duke turned back to Kaleb who had kept quiet until now, “How did your party get killed?

Don’t tell me you were done in by a pack of bandits. I’m not a fool. I knew what you and your band of degenerates were capable of when I hired you.”

Kaleb held no sympathies for his now deceased comrades, but the insult still struck him on the nose. Mostly because it came from a man of noble birth.

That rich sack of shit, Kaleb thought to himself before choosing a better phrase to start off his explanation with.

“We chased Victorian to an old graveyard in the middle of a swamp little over a day’s ride east from here. That is where we ran into a large gathering of the undead.”

“Undead?” the Duke grinned. “You had Melvin with you at the time, didn’t you?”

“He is a piss poor priest,” Yarek added, “But even he could have dealt with that.”

“Yes, he could have,” Kaleb bared his teeth in a forced smile, “But the undead were not the only monsters that we found lurking around that unholy place. There was a… full blooded demon hiding in the crypts.”

That last part struck the Duke out of the blue. Even the witch hunter tilted his head in surprise.

“A demon, you say?” the Duke asked. “How unusual…”

“He is lying,” Yarek declared with confidence.

Kaleb snapped, “Oh, shut up, you warrior in a dress.” He had kept the insult mild so as not to overreach his boundaries. “The thing was about four meters tall, had big horns, long claws and was bloody red! Does that sound like an ogre to you?”

The Duke gave Yarek an expectant look.

“It does sound like the description of a demon. A little on the small side for a true high demon, but… Hmm,” he pondered the rogue’s account for a moment, “Did you notice anything else about the creature that might be of use to us?”

“Sure did! That demon was completely insane! I mean, we were scared shitless just as he first appeared… But then that monster went on to strike up a friendly chat with Crassus and Melvin. It was unlike anything I had ever seen!”

The witch hunter pulled down the scarf revealing his face, “He was friendly?” His expression conveyed distrust.

“Not even close,” Kaleb continued, “The monster declared how he was going to kill us all before demanding that we say something clever to– to mark out the occasion.”

“Is this a common thing?” the Duke inquired.

Yarek shook his head, “I’ve never heard of a demon acting like that. But if he was able to wipe out Melvin’s party…”

Kaleb put his hands together, “Listen, you can go there and find out for yourself if the rest of my party is truly dead or not. I don’t care!

You know what? I don’t even want to get paid for this job. I want nothing to do with the Rotwald family anymore. Is that clear?”

The Duke considered Kaleb’s plead for a moment. “What about Victorian?” he asked.

“Well he didn’t turn into that demon, that’s for sure. He must have run into that monster right before we did,” Kaleb reasoned. “There was no way that he could have slipped past us.”

The Duke shook his head, “We can’t take that chance.

Yarek!”

“Yes, My Lord?”

“I will need you to head back to my castle in Steinfeld,” the Duke ordered.

“And?” the witch hunter asked.

Lord Steinfeld rubbed his hands together as he pondered on the situation. “If I remember correctly, you once told me of how you had faced a demon in battle before. Do you think you could kill this beast for me as well?

No price is too high, mind you. I have no desire to face a growing demonic infestation later down the line. I have plans for this wretched land – plans that cannot allow for the possibility of outside interference.”

Yarek nodded in agreement. “I believe it to be our best option as well, My Lord. We can negotiate a suitable compensation for the demon’s head after I return with it.”

“Good. Then gather my garrison and set out for that graveyard. Cleanse it of any and all beasts – undead and demonic alike. I will write down my orders for the garrison commander so that you can have full authority over the expedition. I want this to be over and done with as quickly as possible.

By the way, Yarek, how many men do you think it will take?”

“If it truly is a demon, then I would say no less than ten–”

The Duke scratched his chin in contemplation, “That is a very modest estimate.”

“–will die,” Yarek finished his sentence. “If I bring along with me a full company of infantry with archer support and mages, that is. We should be expecting heavy casualties when dealing with such a formidable foe.

If nothing else, Melvin’s party gave us a glimpse at the beast’s abilities and I do not intend to underestimate the creature like they did.”

“May the gods have mercy,” the Duke said.

“Demons, My Lord, are not to be trifled with,” Yarek pointed out. “Killing them is best left to demon hunters, but I reckon I can take care of this one myself. With ample support from your troops, of course.”

“Very well,” the Duke placed his hands together in agreement. “It is decided then. You should set out as soon as you can. There is no telling how the situation here might change with such a fearsome beasts lurking around.

Truly, the Rotwalds were incapable rulers till the end. Demon’s and the undead blight their land. My land… Now I will have to clean up their mess as well as their remains.”

“That is good to hear and all, but,” Kaleb intervened, “Can I leave now? I have already told you everything that I know about the demon.”

“Slow down, Kaleb,” the Duke stopped him. “Don’t you want to go along with Yarek on this mission? Avenging your fallen friends is the least that I can offer you for your service. I would even be willing to compensate your for it.”

There is no way that I am returning to that place! Kaleb thought.

“With all due respect, My Lord, I must humbly refuse. Those sacks of bones that you call my comrades – their fate couldn’t bother me any less even if I tried. Oblivion take them, for all that I care, just as long as I don’t have to join them there.

Not yet, anyway.”

“My, aren’t you cruel,” the Duke grinned. “That’s what I like the most about you. The priest was unreliable at best – there was no way I could trust him after he so eagerly betrayed his old master for a mere promise of a higher position in my court. He had ambitions and that can be very dangerous for a man in my position.

But you… you are loyal only to yourself. It is good to know where one’s servants stand.

Come!” he gestured for Kaleb to follow him towards the keep. “I have far better drinks to offer you that those filth riddled watering holes down in the city ever could.

We should discuss our continued cooperation in the foreseeable future. I can envision a lot of potential for someone of your abilities for… death in my schemes. And, with Victorian surely having perished at the hands of that demon, I believe we have a few more targets to pursue…”

***

A waning moon cast its silver light over the stone keep at the center of the walled city. Even in this late hour a few sentries could be seen patrolling the streets below, carrying torches as they went.

The night was calm. All was quiet. The windows and arrow slits of the fortified keep were shrouded in darkness, except for a single window nestled high on the eastern wall. A lone stack of smoke rose from one of the many chimneys on the roof.

The witch hunter, Yarek, pushed open a double wooden door, quietly making his way into the room beyond. He was met by the lone silhouette of the Duke on the background of a crackling fireplace.

Large bookshelves surrounded a lone oak table standing in the middle of the room. It had torn-open letters and scrolls with various reports of both military and financial matters scattered across it, hinting that there were more messages to look over than one could handle with grace.

The moon cast its white light on the table from the lone window on Yarek’s left, allowing him a slight glimpse of the important matters demanding his lord’s attention in this late hour.

The witch hunter quietly shut the door behind him and approached the oak table.

“We have gotten ourselves into quite the predicament here, Yarek,” Duke Ferdinand spoke in a somber voice. He was leaning on the edge of the fireplace with one hand while holding a half empty wine bottle in the other.

“Sometimes I feel like it might not have been worth it…” He said and gazed longingly into the alluring flames.

“The Rotwalds?” Yarek inquired.

“Ehh,” the Duke sighed, “I wish they would stop bothering me already. Apparently it’s not enough to kill your enemies these days to make them go away.

How much longer must I be delayed by them…

Hmm… So much still left to do.

Next we should…

But the demon…

What do you think, Yarek?”

The witch hunter used the pause in the Duke's self-reflecting to quickly get to the point, “I have come for the letter, My Lord.”

The Duke turned around revealing an empty, tired look in his eyes, “You will find my written orders for the garrison commander,” he waved his hand towards the letter strewn table, “… somewhere in there. It is there – just look for the one with my unbroken seal. The rest are of no concern to you.”

Yarek shifted through the pile of reports until he found the letter with the Duke’s unbroken seal on it.

“Any other developments that I should be made aware of, My Lord?”

“Huh?” the Duke looked up at him with a distant expression. “Some, apparently. Maybe…”

He turned back to facing the dancing flames in the fireplace. “The other Marsh Counts haven been voicing their concerns over my allegations of high treason. Even my own family in Steinfeld questions my every move…

But they don’t understand! They don’t! I had to do it…”

“They did not outright object to your attack on the rebellious Rotwalds, did they?” Yarek asked. “Why would the other counts move against your now?”

“Treacherous little bastards!” Ferdinand hissed. “Have I ever told you just how much I hate the lesser houses?”

The witch hunter kept quiet.

“They all think themselves entitled to their lands and their precious rights, while it is I and the visionaries like me – those who would do anything to keep this land from crumbling – that have any real power in the kingdom. We hold council to the king; we provide the lion’s share of the troops defending his lands!

Not to mention the taxes we pay. Oh, just try to squeeze a copper out of one of these lesser nobles! You would think that I was demanding their firstborn children!” He spat into the flames.

“I do anything; sacrifice everything that I have to keep this kingdom from falling apart. All the while these counts, these self-serving pigs of men...” His fingers furiously gripped the uneven stones of the ledge above the fireplace. “They fight me over every man, every coin I tax them. As if it did not rightfully belong to me!

They hoard their precious money all the while the kingdom’s coffers are drained dry by the Merchant Republic.

In the north we are giving ground to the Hanson family and their dwarf ally scum! To think that we are already so far behind them in governing our lands that the entire kingdom can’t even meet the taxes of their single duchy!

And that bloody fool of a king in the south keeps threatening war.

War! While his people are wasting away from starvation and sickness? As if more bloodshed would end his mounting problems.

I tell you, that idiot is headed for a rebellion like a starving wolf for the neck.

Fine, let him fall, but what worries me is that the next ruler might be even worse. A competent warmonger, now that would be terrible for us...”

Ferdinand shook his head. “The gods are having a great deal of fun with tormenting our king.”

Breathing heavily from the ranting, the Duke paused briefly to rub his tired eyes. He then once more turned away from the fireplace to address Yarek face to face, “None of that is going to change if the nobles don’t give up their old rights. We need a better system of governing ourselves or we might go down in the history as the last rulers of the kingdom of Leidemar. And I'm starting to think that the right time for the reforms has long passed...”

Yarek looked over the countless letters littering the Duke’s table. “But what can the houses do if the king supports you on your claim for the Marsh Counties? You saw how easily we rid ourselves of the Rotwalds and their paltry force. Unless the other counts band together in defiance of the King's will, they stand no chance against us.”

“The king’s unspoken will, mind you,” the Duke corrected him. “We don’t have any official support from the crown on this. The king couldn’t offer it even if he wanted to. The lesser nobility would surely hang us if they found out about his plans...”

“But we need to consolidate the power within the kingdom if we stand to weather the coming storm,” Yarek reasoned. “The king knows this, so he won’t interfere even if we take control away from the counts by force.”

“That he won’t,” the Duke agreed. “Not unless they demand him to intervene.”

“Would they?” Yarek asked.

The Duke let the question linger for a moment before answering, “They will,” he said. “Like snakes they will squirm around to leave my grasp. Even worse, they might try and bite me…

If we can’t reign in the Rotwald lands quickly, they will think us incapable and then a real rebellion might be in the cards for us. That is why you must deal with that demon as soon as possible. To make an example out of it for all the other houses to see. House Steinfeld has the power to rule all of the Marshlands singe handedly – they must be made to think so!”

“Then it shall be done,” Yarek nodded. He placed his lord’s letter into his pocket, turned around and went for the door. “You will hear from me once the matter has been dealt with.”

“And make sure that Victorian is really dead!” Ferdinand commanded. “The gods have tested my patience with the Rotwalds long enough.

They gave the Hansons a bloody army of filthy, dirt scraping dwarves with their bloody stronghold and their bloody forges!

What did they give our kingdom but a rebellious elven infestation matched by none?

And I am stuck trying to rule the biggest marsh in the land with the worst of what our nobility has to offer as subjects. If only my father could have prepared me better for this...

A faint smile dawned on the Duke's face, “You know what, Yarek? Bring back both of their heads: that of the demon and the Rotwald boy. I will proudly mount them on the wall in my bedroom once this is all over and done with – Just to spite the gods and this accursed land that they have blessed me with!”

The witch hunter grinned as he closed the door behind him, “Gladly, My Lord.”