Isaac reeled back from the gory sight in front of him. What… what in the world would have done that, he thought, still in shock. Bandits… animals… what… why… Something clearly had chosen to target the town last night- and now he feared what he might find, should he choose to venture into the houses of the townspeople.

Still, though, life on the Serad was a hard thing; Isaac had seen bodies since he was old enough to walk outside. Death was a fact of life, in a land as dangerous as the plains of Serad. He gathered what courage he could, and looked back at Joe. He looks exactly like he did last night. Nothing seems to be taken, and aside from his throat, no damage from animals. Isaac was troubled. Clearly, whatever had taken Joe’s life was not out for loot, nor food; so whatever might it be? What reason could it have for killing the poor man?

“Maybe… maybe it was scared off?” Isaac wondered to himself. Then a more terrifying thought struck him- What if it’s still around? With barely half a thought to his actions, he rapidly tore Joe’s spear from the cadaver’s clammy hands- a stout, sturdy weapon it was. Taller than a man, eight feet long and two inches thick, the wizened oak spear would be a difficult weapon to break- yet also a difficult weapon to carry, and thus Isaac discarded it. Instead, he plundered Joe’s arming sword- a simple affair, merely a double-edged blade, two and a half feet in length. After a final look at Joe, Isaac turned to the gatehouse door, tearing up.

“Hello? Anyone in here?” he warily called out from the doorway. Crud… no lamps burning. No fire, either. Loathe to turn away, Isaac slowly backed away from the gatehouse, falling over the broken down door in the process. “AHH!” With a screech he fell back onto the door, bringing his head down heavily upon it- and knew no more.

Isaac awoke to feel something wet upon his back; a great deal of something wet, in fact. Groggily opening his eyes, he immediately noticed that Ilios, the sun, was low in the sky; it had been midmorning when he had arrived at the gatehouse. I’ve lost hours, several of them… Isaac slowly brought his hand to the back of his head. I… I don’t feel anything… bringing his hand around, he could see dried flakes of blood upon it. He rested a moment longer; then finally began to rise from his altogether uncomfortable repose on the fallen door.

Once he arose, Isaac soon realized what the wetness was- his body heat had melted the dusting of snow upon the door. I need a fire; else I might catch cold… His mind still was not working at full capacity; he heard a sound, but it took him several seconds to process it- and several more to decipher where it came from. A wolf stood over Joe’s body, snout caked red. W…wolf! That can’t be the only one, they travel in packs… Isaac fretted. “Shoo, wolf,” he proclaimed loudly- his voice sounding far braver than he felt. “Get away from here!”

The wolf, obviously enough, did not listen. It was hungry, as were all denizens of the plains after the snows. It looked at the boy with a curious glance; then, hackles raised, started creeping forwards. Isaac’s hand went to his waist in search of the sword; with a start, he realized it laid on the ground next to him. As he rapidly swooped down to grab it, blood rushed to his head, almost making him swoon. Vision blurry, Isaac barely noticed the wolf lunging forward- at least, until it bowled him over. Grimacing, he expected to be savaged by claws and teeth; yet, nothing happened. “What… what happened?” he queried after a few seconds of the wolf not moving. As his vision finally cleared, he saw his savior; a black-shafted arrow, firmly embedded in the canine’s neck. Throwing the beast off of himself with a groan, he warily looked around, trying to find the archer- and seeing no one.

Scooping back up his sword, which had been knocked away when the wolf impacted him, he staggered back towards his home- he’d no interest in the gatehouse, not in the state he was in. Exploration could wait; he needed food, and fire.

Once he arrived at home, Isaac barred the door behind him. After that, the first thing he did was to check if his uncle had returned- no such luck. Sighing, Isaac started a fire going, and set his wet clothes to dry in front of it. Sitting down at the table, he held his aching head, and began to speak to himself.

“What could have happened?” he wondered. “Everyone is missing, and Joe is dead… by the looks of it, so are the other watchmen. What could it be? Not bandits, they didn’t take anything… not animals, they didn’t eat anything…” Isaac didn’t speak for several minutes, but then suddenly exclaimed, “Everyone is missing! Slavers, it has to be! Still, though… why wouldn’t they take anything else? It makes no sense… besides, since when have slavers roamed the Serad? Those scum have always been too lazy to brave the weathers.” Shaking his head, Isaac sighed- an event that occurred multiple times that day. “It just makes no sense… it’s not bandits, it’s not animals, and it would be the first slaver band ever heard of in the Serad…”

Isaac’s thought was cut off by a noise from outside- it halfway sounded like a muttered curse. Silently he stood up, grabbing his blade from the table. Either someone survived, or it’s whoever came here back to finish the deed… a fire wasn’t a good idea, but I needed to get warm. Gah… focus! Noise! Door! He slowly walked towards a crack in the wall of the hut, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever it was.

All he could see through the crack was a cloaked figure huddled against the wall, near the door- it looked as if the person was trying what he himself was doing, merely from the outside. As he watched, the figure carefully rose, and tried to push the door in- with no results, obviously enough, considering he had barred it shut. Unfortunately, however, that meant that he could not open the door himself, at least, not without the figure hearing the bar being lifted. Essentially, he was trapped within the cabin- with a person outside who clearly knew someone was in the house.

That said, he simply decided to watch. The figure circled the house a few times, perhaps searching for another entrance, perhaps looking for a crack with better vantage, and then left, five minutes later, trekking off in the direction of the mines. Isaac grabbed together his freshly dried clothing along with his blade, and unbarred the door. “Hmm… better throw some more coal on the fire, I need them to believe I’m still here…” he muttered. He was fairly certain that the pillar of smoke from the chimney had given him away, initially. In hindsight, that cheery blaze wasn’t such a smart idea. After fueling the fire, he set off into the cold, following the fresh tracks in the slush as shadows began to fall.

As he followed the track, Isaac kept a careful eye out around himself- the tracks may have led one way, but it hardly meant he was safe. Whoever he was following might have doubled back, or worse yet, could have friends. Even so, following the tracks was uneventful. He heard nothing, and he saw nothing, wherever he looked. The path indeed led to the mines; in fact, it led past them. Isaac followed the tracks all the way to the wall of the palisade, almost directly opposite the gate. “Hmm… I guess they must have gone over the wall,” Isaac said softly. It would not have been an easy task, to be sure. The walls stood ten feet tall, but were mere logs, sharpened to an admittedly dull point, and embedded in the ground on end. However, their greatest protection was surely the layer of ice that they were almost always covered in- ice which should have made climbing the wall an impossibility. Rope, maybe? I don’t see any holes for climbing spikes… either way, I’m not going to be able to follow. Still, though, I can’t stay at home… that definitely wasn’t a friendly type of person. Sighing, Isaac headed back into the web of houses. I’ll need to leave, but where to?

As he pondered, he walked back towards his home. He would need to pack quickly, before any evildoers returned… then he heard a noise, the creaking of a door. A moment later, he heard a soft voice. “Is that you, Isaac?”