“Open the gates!” Raylas shouted as he rushed into the clearing.

The walls and gate of the town were lit up with lanterns. Men poked their head over the walls hearing the commotion as Raylas charged over the snowy field.

A screech resounded behind him and he turned to give the creatures a brief glance. Disgusting bulbous heads of the yellow creatures bobbed as they flew out of the woods. The wolves they rode growled as they leapt over the few obstacles between them.

Raylas did a quick turn and stabbed as one got close, puncturing the wolf's head and causing the creature to tumble into the snow in a streak of white and blood. The goblin screamed in fright as its mount collapsed, attempting to leap off but getting its leg caught under the wolf as it rolled.

Relief flooded him as this one finally died. He had stabbed it multiple times during the near constant chase but he finally hit its head and not a shoulder. He turned and continued to flee to the safety of the gates, his breathing coming in gasps from the weight of his armor and weapons.

“Open the damn gates already!” He bellowed as he got near.

A familiar twang sounded from behind the wall. Raylas threw himself onto the ground and covered his neck with his armored hands. Arrows flew out from over the wall and peppered the field, then another volley came right after. Raylas refused to move as a few of the arrows hit his armor. Luckily the dwarven metal held up against the force, so he felt small jolts when they hit but he was not actually punctured.

The goblins and wolves, on the other hand, screamed in pain as arrows pierced them as they charged forward. Not many fell but the attack spooked the wolves who yelped. They bucked the goblins and fled back into the safety of the woods. The yellow creatures spat out dirt as the second volley thudded around them, skewering a number of the stunned monsters. Screams of fright sounded as those that could still move leapt up and chased after the wolves in their attempt to escape.

By the time of a third volley there were no creatures willing to fight. The gate opened and a group of eight guards ran out with their weapons drawn. They converged on Raylas, three of them wrapping him up in chains and lifted him from the dirt. The others rushed to each of the creatures who survived the volleys and cut them down, collecting the arrows right after.

The entire attack didn’t take more than five minutes, but all eight soldiers and one prisoner entered the city and shut the gate before any of the bodies cooled.

Raylas was thrown onto the ground. His breath escaped him during the crash and he struggled to gasp in a new breath. A number of the guards stood around him, watching.

“Thanks for the help?” He gasped after a moment.

“Its him,” one of the guards declared.

“Come scampering back to safety, eh?” Another sneered as he pulled a chain. “Woods too dangerous for you?”

“Woods are a little dangerous for everyone, to be honest,” Raylas countered. “That’s why they hire mercenaries.”

“Shut up!” the first smacked Raylas’ helmet making it ring painfully. “We got orders to take you to a new home if you came back.”

“And that is why we love to travel here.” The chains tying his arms tightened and he flinched. He smiled at his captors. “You have amazing hospitality.”

“Get the bastard out of here,” the first guard snapped as he pulled out a thick piece of cloth and gagged him.

The other two took a hold of the chains and started to drag Raylas. The snow made the trip smooth, if cold. It wasn’t long but soon a familiar building came to view, the guardhouse and jail.

The door was kicked open and the ground went from smooth snow to rough wood. Raylas flinched as he felt his armor catch the gaps of the planks and tear out splinters, a few of them prodding against his rear.

“Well look what the goblins dragged in,” Sim mewed at the desk in the middle of the room. “Welcome back, Inquisitor. Have a good trip running like a coward?”

“It was lovely,” Raylas chuckled. “The woods were beautiful and calm until everything went to hell.”

“She protects us from your lot,” a guard snapped.

Sim held up his hand and the guard gave him a respectful nod and took a few steps back, leaving him sitting on the floor wrapped in chains.

“You angered her,” Sim said. “She has been our protector yet you bring the curse upon us. The undead have attacked again last night when you left, and now the forest itself seems to be seeking revenge. The beasts have started hunting the woodsmen, goblins have attempted to raid. Since you arrived things have just gotten worse.”

“So I assume you plan to throw me out to the wolves and let them solve the problem?” Raylas snorted.

Sim blanched. He took a step forward and gave Raylas a quick kick to the stomach.

“We are not monsters like you!” he roared.

“Then why are you wasting both of our times doing all of this?” Raylas asked glancing around the prison. “If I am the source of bad luck, like you say, then removing me would be a practical solution.”

Sim glared at him then gave him another kick to the stomach. Raylas wanted to laugh since his armor protected him both times so he barely felt a thing, and the slight limp of the man showed he didn’t go unscathed from the attacks.

“Toss him in with the other,” Sim growled.

The two guards grabbed Raylas and lifted him into the next room. One of the cells were open and he was thrown inside, landing with a wince as the chains dug into his joints. The barred door was slammed shut with a loud clank, the lock latching shut automatically.

The guards left after snickering at Raylas’ punishment, but he didn’t mind. He was in a different cell than before, but had already spent a few nights in this prison already. It was rather comfortable compared to others he had been thrown into, and he didn’t have a good place to spend the night since the Tavern was booked with Sapphire’s room.

He struggled against the chains and was shocked to see that they were surprisingly loose. He really didn’t struggle during their dragging him since he doubted he could fight off the city guard. Being sent to jail was far easier to handle. He also felt confident calling them out on leaving him to the wolves. If they really felt like doing that they would never have opened the gate in the first place, which meant they needed him for something.

They thought he was part of the church. It was likely they were afraid to anger the gods by killing one of their members, or maybe this was just a smaller faction in the town. Most of the residents must know of the Dryad issue, explaining their constant observation to him as an outsider. But those which actively participate to protect the rest never tend to be large.

Like most organizations, there is a head of the group then there is the hands. The rest are members who don’t act without orders. For a town like this, the head has to be someone like Sim, though he is also likely to be a hand who moves around and handles situations. There is also people like Darling who is a member. Whether she is active into it or not remains to be seen, but Dave likely isn’t that important due to his loose lips. Spilling secrets is quite bad for those of the inner circle.

So the question remains: What do they want to do with him? Keeping him alive while imprisoned meant that they wanted him to be seen under their control or kept safe. Claiming he was the cause of their misfortune might also be seen as a factor.

A scapegoat.

He was to be used as a scapegoat to the sheep of the town, the basic townsfolk with no spine to fight back against any power. Also known as a majority of the population. There was a reason not many joined the guards or became a mercenary; having blood on your hands was not a comfortable situation.

But to use him as a scapegoat, showing off their power and allying the people together against a common enemy, the church, would be very beneficial to the leaders. They would also use him as a sacrifice to the Dryad in an attempt to appease her, telling her that the cause of the undead was dealt with. Not like it’ll stop the undead since he wasn’t the reason, he hoped, but it might buy some time.

Then with a united town and the Dryad ‘tamed’ for now they could solidify themselves into a full de facto leadership role. It was almost impressive.

If he was the true cause of the situation.

“Oi! What did they get ya with?” a familiar voice called out from across the hall.

“Saving my life from wolves,” Raylas replied with a smile. “Apparently surviving outside at night is illegal.”

“You bastard,” Terrok growled. “I told ya to get out of town.”

“I did, and you said you’d meet me outside of the walls.”

“Touche,” the dwarf laughed. “Seems my stunt upset a couple people.”

“How many?” Raylas asked.

“Five to knock me down,” the dwarf muttered. “Two of ‘em to pin me arms, an’ I think one of the new guys wrapped me up like a hog.” From his voice the dwarf had to be smiling. “They also got me box, but they can’ open it without the passphrase.”

Raylas nodded. The dwarf had something like his bag. He paused and looked down at his belt and smiled.

They didn’t take his belt.

“Hold on a moment,” Raylas said. He closed his eyes and whispered ‘Otote’ and felt the world twist.

He opened his eyes to see the top of the Vault again. A wave of familiarity seemed to be in the air now, and he smiled as he lifted his hand to catch the light like usual.

Except his arm refused to move. He looked down to see he was still wrapped in chains. He tried to take a step forward but by moving he lost his balance and fell to the ground. His face slammed into the old wood and he let out a yelp of pain.

Cursing he kicked his feet ungracefully to get the loose loops off his feet, then with the extra slack he slowly worked the rest of the chain off. It took almost ten minutes to remove it all and he slumped to the ground sighing in relief. His body was tired and he was drenched in sweat.

It was time to change. So he peeled off his armor and found a pouch of water and wet a towel. He wiped his body down to remove the smell of sweat and then put on a fresh set of new clothes. They felt stiff but at the same time the cloth was soft and seemed to caress his body. It was an unusual feeling to have something new.

It felt good.

He was in the Vault for no more than thirty minutes when he popped back out. The chains and his armor had disappeared, but now he was feeling fresh and ready to go for what was to come. He had a couple knives hidden in his clothes, making sure not to be disarmed while under the guard’s ‘protection’.

“What are ya stayin’ so quiet for?” Terrok demanded.

“Sorry, I had to change.”

“Change? What, did they get ya a fancy dresser in that cell of yours?”

“A dresser, no,” Raylas smiled. “But I have a few secrets of my own.”

The dwarf was quiet for a moment before bursting out laughing. A guard burst into the room and banged his hilt on the dwarf’s cell.

“Quiet down, Smith.” He turned and peered at Raylas’ cage. “You stop messing with our people or… where are your chains?”

“They were pretty uncomfortable, so I made them… disappear.” Raylas smirked as he made exaggerated gestures. He sat down on the cot and waited for the guard to close his mouth. “I have to say this feels a lot more relaxing.”

The guard stammered something about a mage before rushing out. The dwarf managed to get a hold of his mirth and finally strode over to his door and gave Raylas a curious look.

“Lookin’ fancy there, Mr. Inquisitor,” he chuckled.

“Feeling much better after a wash and change.” Raylas laughed as he rested his hand on the pouch. It was far too dangerous to leave alone, but he was also coming to like its convenience.

“Fastest change and wash I ever seen,” the dwarf shook his head. “Got a comb for someone like me? Me beard’s gettin’ a bit raggity bein’ locked in here.”

“What do you mean fast?” Raylas asked. He took a full half hour to get everything done. That was way longer than it normally took when he was on the move with the group.

“Ya went quiet for almost a minute,” the dwarf snorted. “I wasn’ sure if ya fell unconscious or not. You humans are far too fragile for yur own good.”

Raylas paused.

“Half a minute?” he asked.

“Aye.”

“Hold on just a moment. I might have a comb for you.” He held his hand onto the pouch and whispered the passcode again.