“By order of the High King Edward. Second Prince Alvin Meltius and Duke Urien Haukr are traitors to the realm charged with sedition. If sighted, report to the nearest Lionhunt Official at once. Do not attempt to apprehend or harm the accused.”

- Poster outside Office of the Lionhunt in Harweald Town Square

“The hell ye doing out so late lassie? Adventurer?” A gate guardsmen drawled, his chainmail clinking when he waggled his spear at her. The nightshift seemed much better equipped than their daytime counterparts.

Sophie nodded and then pointed at the small bag she had strapped beside her. “Urgent delivery.”

The guard twirled his hefty and almost shiny moustache before raising a curious eye at her, but said nothing as he studied her up and down. Sophie felt the knots inside her stomach twist tightly together, straining and holding her until the man finally spoke.

“Couldn’t wait till the morn?”

“Urgent.” Sophie shook her head.

“Tsh, you bloody adventurers,” He murmured softly before speaking up, “Not looking to cause trouble are ye? Or I’ll wallop you bloody.” He growled.

Sophie shook her head again and the man seemed satisfied.

“Well?” He looked at her expectantly and she could only stare back. A moment passed between the two before he spoke again, “Well where are you going and gate pass?”

At that Sophie found herself freezing in fear, gate pass? I…I don’t recall getting one but do I need it?

“Ha-hamil’s farmstead,” She managed to somewhat stammer out, “Um…” Should I bluff? Lie? Admit the truth?

“Farmstead is the second left following the main road, up the pathway and you can’t miss it.” He absently gestured. Seems friendly enough.

With a huff Sophie decided to ask the defining question of the night, “Umm gate pass?”

The guard looked at her funny before tilting his kettle helm to scratch his head, "You don’t have a gate pass?”

Reluctantly, Sophie nervously shook her head.

“By Morea’s tits, this is why our funding keeps getting cut, bloody morning shift. Wait here and I’ll fetch you a slip.” He sighed with mild annoyance as he slipped into the wooden gatehouse tower, leaving Sophie standing awkwardly alone in the middle of an emptying road.

Fear, regret, and hopelessness flooded through her as she finally sighed after holding her breath. The plan was pathetically simplistic, to wander up to a cultist hideout with nothing more than a dagger. Her combat skills were barely serviceable against the living dead, horrifically inadequate sparing against Blademaster Taurox. To top off her despair completely, she had, in a fit of lunacy, decided to undertake this venture alone.

She wanted to say she was compelled to do so, that she had no other choice. But the overwhelming feeling of uselessness, of being the cause of so much pain still haunted her. The fact she had not just failed Annalise in her duties, but that she had also started this chain of events could not escape her mind. By the time her grim determination had begun to fade it was already too much to late, marching awkwardly forward to the gatehouse, the guard had met her gaze and before long seemed to expect her arrival. Yet the slight repositioning of his leg indicated he felt uneasy about her approach, and in Sophie’s mind, if she suddenly turned around and ran, he would’ve alerted any other guards to suspicious behaviour and likely pegged her as some criminal.

Too shy to speak up yet too fearful of drawing more attention, she had therefore chosen to confidently strut up to the gatehouse, only to nearly falter at the last moment before she regained her courage to speak.

Thus here she was now, waiting. Chilly night winds held her in their embrace, a thought that had already crossed her mind multiple times made itself known again. I’m an idiot, the words ran through her head over and over as the seconds ticked by, the grass and dirt shifting around her as nocturnal creatures began their song and dance outside the walls. The rhythm of the land humming a soft melody despite the turbulent emotions racing within her. This was such a stupid idea, hopefully he just says I can’t go out, or maybe just assigns a guard but then what…

“Well, make sure to have this on you when you get back. Hamil’s farm is about half an hour’s walk away so stay safe ya hear? But whatever adventurery business be sure to sort it quick, the Lionhunts been getting antsy lately, and they roam outside the walls like dogs,” He scoffed, “So be sure you have the pass with you outside the walls, you might earn more than me but thems the rules around here adventurer.”

Sophie stared gobsmacked at the small stamped parchment the man handed her and put it in her bag. She tried to hide her surprise. So…that’s it? He just…let’s me through? She looked up in confirmation and the guard had already begun turning his attention back to yawning through a grunted approval. Wasting no time Sophie bowed in thanks and quickly scurried out the gate, second left and follow the path, got it. But one thing the man said did bother her, Lionhunts out in force? She suspected they were some form of local Meltonian trooper, likely more professional or snobbish than the guards given the man’s reaction. But without any real idea on what to watch out for she could only clutch her bag and the sheathed blade closer as yet another complication was added to her plans.

She shuffled gingerly forward, aware that she was not the only one using the roads that night. Animals, the occasional peasant or guardsmen would wander nearby and with each little noise Sopihe would tense up that much more as she trekked towards her destination. What would Eva do? She’d probably wack the cultist up the noggin heh, allowing herself a timid smile she continued with her head down, sparing a nod here or there at anyone passing too closely and assuring them she meant no harm.

Easy now, I can worry about the rest when I get there, she huffed quietly. A small rustling caught her eye as the night breeze arrived in force. The forest on the edge of the basin and the bushes around her swayed in conjunction with the wind in a melancholic display. The chill bit through her clothes as she shuddered and picked up her pace. An ominous feeling, similar to what she felt inside the Mistveil, draped itself over the lands and the gnawing regret she felt only grew stronger the closer she got.

Few torches lit the paths ahead. After what felt like an eternity of wandering aimlessly forward, she finally saw what the guard meant. Every once in a while popping in and out of the treeline were a series of armoured soldiers. Not as well equipped as the full plated silver templars but most wore some form of darkened gambeson with a piece of metal plate over their chests. Etched on their chest pieces were the lion-like heraldry she remembered seeing in that strange looking stone building in the town square. Everything began connecting together and she quickly sought to appear more normal and composed whenever she spotted them, hoping they would leave her alone.

Thankfully, despite feeling a few stares shot her way, no one seemed keen enough to disturb another stranger on the road. Yet, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that the whole time she traveled the road, someone was watching her. But no matter how often she tried to locate them, she failed. Uneasy but undaunted, she pressed on, hoping that perhaps it was simply one of the Gods granting her a boon, though even her naivety stretched itself to the limit trying to believe that. Not like I can do anything about it at this point.

The soft rain shower that broke out halfway through her walk added another hitch to her already poor plan. Dirt and earth slowly sloshed into a disgusting muddy slurry along the slopes and what little illuminations from the torches flickered out. Rain slowed her progress and it had taken almost an hour and then some for her to arrive at Hamil’s farm. Exhausted, annoyed and soaked to the bone her despair had almost overwhelmed her when she finally caught sight of the crops and animal pens. Not only that, but the amount of the armoured Lionhunt troopers increased significantly in the stretch just preceding the farm, like hunters following a trail. Avoiding them had taken time, time that she worried was soon running out as the others likely picked up something was wrong with how long she had been gone, if they even noticed.

Darkness settled across the Meltonian farmlands as the moon too was covered by heavy clouds, the miserable peasantry and guardsmen moving for shelter leaving only the armoured troopers to patrol the lands. A large tiered field of crops sat on the side of the basin alongside the two piece two story stone brick house house sat next to the edge of the forest, a small stone wall surrounding the compound, main hall and sleeping quarters I assume. One Lionhunt trooper glanced over at her and she just barely had time to duck behind the outer walls when he walked over.

After a few moments of tense waiting in the rain, she heard the footsteps fade into the treeline and dashed over to the small stone wall that enclosed the farm’s chicken coop, trying miserably to hop over it without slipping. Landing with a muddy plop she noticed a stray hen wandering the area around the coop, basking in the rain shower. Upon noticing the new addition, the elf and hen shared a glance, her mind racing desperately to stop the chicken from squawking. Yet, it didn't squawk or raise a ruckus, it seemed almost apathetic at her presence, more annoyed at the rain than anything before it just wandered back into the coop. Great, even chickens don’t think I’m a threat and ugh, I’m muddy as hell, these clothes are gonna be ruined.

Patting some of the muck off herself she tried looking on the positive side of the weather, at least it masks the steps. Spending a moment to regain her composure she snuck up to the side of the side door, sticking her ear carefully to it to avoid making noise and trying to ascertain what might lay within. To her annoyance the rain that covered her approach also unfortunately covered up any noise that might be coming from within. Dammit, maybe the second floor window?

Examining the outer structure the current section of the house near the chicken coops had no windows or entryways beside the connected doorway, a relief for it meant no one would be able to see her, but, she couldn’t see inside either. Though even above her the second floor on this side seemed windowless, though she did remember seeing a balcony that overlooked the main road. But the trooper would see me climb up, so that’s not a good plan, gotta find another entry point.

She leaned back to search some more when she heard the slight clack of a lock being opened through the rain. Shit! Panicking, her brain turned to mush under the rain and she squeezed into the chicken coop, now joined by dozens of drowsy if increasingly irate chickens. Pulling the chicken coop door closed, she was now stuck inside a dark wooden pine, hay, shit, egg and chicken filled coffin as the surprised heads all turned to her. With her back hunched over just above the chickens, the fury of clucks and squawks never came, the residents strangely silent like her. Outside she could hear the noise of two pairs of feet plodding in the muddy ground outside the coop. And though she yearned to crane her neck closer to the walls to listen in, any movement could give her away.

“Bloody rain.” A raspy, if pained voice spoke up from outside.

“Then let’s hurry up.” Came a low guttural growl in reply, animalistic and almost hostile. A beastfolk perhaps?

Their brief words were followed by silence as the rain bore down on the roof of the coop, but before long she heard the distinct sounds of dirt being dug amidst the downpour. Sophie could feel her back begin to ache from her strange position and as the chickens fluttered back to rest she could only hold still as the conspicuous sound of wet dirt being plopped nearby grew higher and higher.

Eventually, unaware of how much time had passed on that the rain had picked up, Sophie finally broke out of her stupor when the monotonous digging gave way to sounds of a door being opened again. Followed by a series angered but muffled shouts.

“Mmm! Mmpff! Mmm!” A third, more subdued and restrained voice interrupted the rhythm of the rain.

“Heh, sorry friend,” The animalistic one spoke up, a grin in his voice, “You’re just not as valuable as the other three, I will miss the crack of your bones.”

“Come on, hurry up before we get sick.” The raspy one added.

“No, he pays for hurting my blood brothers.”

“Karosh…” Karosh? His name, remember this for the inquisitors!

“Mmmm! Mmmm! MMM!” The third voice screamed as Sophie could hear even the sickening crack from inside.

Even she couldn’t help but winced at the man’s pained grunting.

“Enjoy crawling out of that with one arm.” Karosh joked malevolently as he spat out loud.

“Oi, I get, he hurt your people. But he'll be dead soon enough, now let's bury him before the boss gets antsy.”

A grunt right next to the coop frightened Sophie, though she was able to hold still without disturbing the chickens.

More digging, this time interspersed by muffled agony and anger until enough soil filled the opening and Sophie could hear the pained man no longer. The door opened once more and she could hear the two shovels still at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Leave that shit out there, I don’t want this place any muddier than it needs to be.” A gruff and quiet yet commanding voice barked. Markus? It’s Markus’s voice, I’m sure of it.

Her mind flashed back to their encounter in Rumhol, she didn’t think much of it at the time but she did recall thinking the muscular, quiet, bearded and frankly overly watchful man was dangerous. At the time she only saw him as a professional adventurer who likely didn’t like people, a fair enough assumption given her imagination of their glamorous lifestyle in the vein of epic set pieces that Gunmar and Aurelia seemed to often encounter. But now she realized that perhaps her gut knew something or merely felt something was off the moment she met him. A cultist huh? The inquisitor told me but…damn, even a gold ranked adventurer.

She could then hear a few more acknowledging grunts reply to the traitor, before something was placed against the walls of the coop and footsteps headed back toward the house. The slamming of a door echoing soon after, just in time for the storm to start picking up once more.

The silence that followed unnerved her, unsure whether or not the coast was clear but she knew whoever got chucked into the pit would die without her. Carefully, she tried extricating herself and accidentally bumped a hen, the angry chicken wasting no time in pecking at her leg on her arduous crawl out. A small tingle of pain made her wince as the hen poked a small hole through her pants. A subtle yanking of her leg caused her to tumble out of the coop and into the mud, breaking herself free from the hen. Thankfully, the chicken yard was empty and though she was now covered in dirt, mud, chicken shit, hay and all manner of uncomfortable substances, the rain was also washing it away as it threatened to give her a cold.

Looking around she found what looked like a slightly disturbed mush of land and picked up one of the shovels leaning against the coop and began digging. The angry hen began a small foot chase, but as it strode angrily into the rain, it got second thoughts and squawked in annoyance before going back inside.

Digging frantically, Sophie prayed to the heavenly courts that she wasn’t too late and barely breathed as exhaustion slowly burned her muscles from the cold and exertion. Relief only came when she could hear the desperate gasping emerging from the ground and she quickened her pace, taking a brief moment to ensure no one was coming over before continuing.

After an agonisingly long dig, she finally caught sight of the poor prisoner as the man looked up at her in hatred before widening his eyes in surprise at the sight of her. At least someone’s happy to see me. Seeing his chance to escape, she also tried helping him push away the mud and Sophie noticed the almost waist deep water that surrounded him. Without thinking, she dropped to the floor and lowered the shovel down, anchoring her foot in the ground as she gestured for the man to grab the shovel. Obliging his saviour, he held on and tried to climb as Sophie pulled.

While she had always been what Eva described as scrawny of lithe, her hours spent lifting things as a maid had instilled some form of internal calculus for weight distribution. With one last heave, she dragged the man back out of the pit. Exhausted, she lay on the floor. The man jumped like a flash and trained the shovel at her like an enemy rather than acknowledging her having just saved him. Tired and recovering, she let the water pool around her her as she nonchalantly waved for the man to leave her alone. If I die, I die I guess. Seemingly satisfied by her lack of an answer he lowered his shovel to help her up but she quickly brushed him off and pushed herself up.

“Did Duke Roderick send you? Or Baroness Carlyle perhaps?” The man queried between breaths.

Sophie looked at him with a blank expression as the name held no meaning for her.

“Master Percival? Baron Gize?”

This time, hearing the desperation in his voice she at least shook her head and watched as the man seemed to deflate completely before his expression shifted to one of surprise.

“Your eyes, ears. One of the forest folk this far west? Did you come to find our lord on behalf of the druids then?” He piped out more suggestions, “You’ll find no deal to be had with our lord then cur, however grateful he might feel. In our greatest hour of need your patrons abandoned us, forgiveness is not so easily earned.” He quickly swapped to a scowl.

What the hells is wrong with this man, Sophie thought absently. She brushed off some mud from her face, instinctively crawling away from strangers back to the chicken coop before pausing realising it was a chicken coop and not a house.

“Hah! Our prince is an honorable-” The man began but Sophie quickly glared at him in annoyance.

“Adventurer.” She clarified and pointed to herself and now the man sneered.

“An adventurer?! Here?! Not even a knight? Did you get sent by…” He tried speaking before Sophie gestured to the house again.

The man, in rags and torn pants looked cross at her and looked ready to pounce before he winced from the pain of his wounds. Ignoring him, Sophie crept back to the house and unsheathed her dagger, gripping it tightly before she stopped, turning back to the man.

“How many?” She tried speaking seriously but could feel her voice wobble from uncertainty.

“How many? What? You think of taking them alone you scrawny little…”

“How many?”

“Ten at least, two orcs in the crowd, green skinned fucks.” The man cursed.

Orcs? I guess that must’ve been the inhumane voice I heard. Sophie chewed her lip in frustration, all she knew about them were from books. Usually depicted as a villain who were muscular, green and able to survive multiple wounds. Fuck, she glanced down at her dagger with a frown on her face, fighting is not an option. Not that she could fight eight other people much less the two orcs.

“You mentioned a prince?” Sophie asked and the man stiffened at once.

“Ermm…”

Sophie just looked at him until he finally answered.

“I..let’s just say there’s a noble or two tied up and leave it at that." He sighed and held up his unbroken arm, "Look, if Lady Kestrel or one of the other Duke’s hired you then please, I beg of you, for the goodness of the realm. Just tell them someone else took the Prince and…”

Sophie leapt over and shushed him, pushing him behind the chicken coop as the door opened and weapons were quickly drawn.

“The knight’s escaped!” The orc’s voice, Karosh, yelled and immediately a commotion echoed from the house.

“What? But we buried him and broke his arm, it’d be impossible for him to…”

“Enough, we’ve wasted enough time, split into three groups and look for him! They wouldn’t dare alert the huntsman so we have some time. You two fools go back upstairs and watch the rest.” Markus barked.

A flurry of activity followed and she could hear the clanging of doors, windows and weapons as countless feet scurried about. Angry yelling followed the commotion and two pairs of boots plopped through the mud by the chicken coop. The two leather clad figures thankfully didn’t notice the pair when they sprinted out the yard and beyond the walls.

As other doorways began to slam shut around them, the man and Sophie shared a glance and an understanding between the two was reached. Whatever our problems can be saved for later, if there was ever a chance for just us it’d be right now. Sweat mixed with rainwater ran down her body as she held the knife closer, nodding at the knight as they looked back at the house. What a stupid idea, let's do this.