Erevan wakes up a few hours later to a boot in his side. He opens his eyes just to find his own blunderbuss set against his cheek.

Two men stand over him. One points the blunderbuss. Another holds a hatchet.

“Told you he was a crow. No other reason that man visited him.” The hatchet wielding one says.

He continuously readjusts his grip. Fidgeting and ancy. He wants to kill the teen.

“I see he’s a crow.” The other man sounds irritated. His finger is on the trigger of the gun.

Erevan thinks quickly.

“My master was killed. I’ve come to the village seeking employment.” Erevan says attempting to sound meek.

“How much was your rate?” The gunman asks.

“Are you serious?” The hatchetman whines.

“Two copper a week.” Erevan answers quickly.

“Hot damn!” The man lowers the blunderbuss and removes his finger from the trigger.

“That’s not a real wage.” The hatchet man says.

Erevan flicks his hand. The ballista spins to face the two men and fires at the one wielding the blunderbuss. The man's body slams against the back wall, impaled by the ballista bolt, and the blunderbuss flies up into the air. Erevan catches the firearm as the bandit swings his hatchet.

Erevan catches the hatchet with the blunderbuss, only getting nicked on the hand. He pushes the man back, turns the firearm to face him, and pulls the trigger.

A dozen or so metal bb’s spray through the mans swinging arm. Mutilating the limb. The cartridge smokes. His fathers quick loading invention, the cartridges, were only good for one use. With the rest of the ammo packed away Erevan chooses to drop the firearm.

The teen grabs the hatchet from the man's shredded limb. His good arm quickly grabs further up the hilt and the two begin wrestling for the weapon.

“What kind of fucking crow are you!” The man spits the words out. Tears are streaming down his face.

“I’m a Burkwood.” Erevan pulls the hatchet away from the bandit before slamming the handle across his face.

The man falls backward. Erevan raises the hatchet above the man's head and brings it down in a strong arc.

The door to the stable room opens as the hatchet smashes through the skull of the bandit.

Broxton stands in the doorway. He gulps as he takes in the scene. The second bandits body falls to the side hitting the ground with a muted thump.

“I heard a boom.” The Goliath mutters.

“A gunshot. I was attacked in my sleep.” Erevan pulls out his second coin purse from his supplies.

The teen tosses a red coin onto each body.

“What’s that?” Broxton asks.

“Not sure yet. It’s best if you leave and let me handle this.” Erevan looks up at the Goliath.

“Are you sure?” Broxton asks.

A shimmering black portal opens and Hvardrik steps through.

“Yeah, your good.” Broxton says quietly as he closes the door.

The Crow necromancer watches the door close and then looks over the grisly scene in the room. His eyes finally stop on Erevan.

“I left town only a couple hours ago. How did you do this?” Hvardrik asks.

Erevan shrugs.

“This is a new record.” Hvardrik picks up one corpse and throws it through the portal.

Erevan removes his ballista bolt from the other bandit. The necromancer takes the body and chucks it through the portal.

“Alright. Good start.” The man comments.

“Thanks, I guess.” Erevan says. “What do I do about all the blood and gore?”

“Never cleaned a crime scene before?” Hvardrik moves his hands and mutters an incantation. In an instant the room is spotless. Cleaner than it was before.

“Thanks for the corpses.” Hvardrik waves to Erevan as he back steps through the portal and disappears.

Erevan sets a haybale in front of either door into the room. He then lays down in some straw attempting to get more restful sleep.

Erevan eventually wakes up feeling refreshed. He eats some salted venison. Then he takes to the streets to find any sort of merchant.

The teen spends his two gold getting new boots and some trail rations that won’t spoil as quick as the meat.

He rests at the tavern during the lunch hours. No one bugs him today and he keeps his helmet on firmly.

Erevan prepares some meals in the kitchen as they are ordered through the rest of the day. As the tavern clears out and people leave or go their rooms the teen heads out to clean. He collects the dishes, washes them, and wipes down the tables and bar.

Broxton walks over to him and holds out his hand. Erevan takes four copper pieces from him.

“This is considerably less.” Erevan locks eyes with the bartender.

“You can’t pay a crow more than that. You want to get paid better. Get a better disguise than a helm. I’m not being executed for your hide.” Broxton sighs.

“Having me here terrifies you.” Erevan purses his lips.

“The traditions of this land are upheld with blood and steel.” Broxton turns and leaves.

“Fucking asshole.” Erevan leaves through the front door and heads to the stables.

Erevan wakes up the next morning very early. He gathers his things onto his sled and drags it out of the stable towards the front of the tavern.