They arrived at an expanse which hosted a fallen tree.

“That’s one big tree,” said Ronald as his eyes traveled down its length. It was massive, and warded off the other trees from laying claim on the expanse. Other than iitself, it could easily accommodate a few houses from Sateya.

“Wonder what brought it down,” said Miria as she scoured the perimeter.

“A force of nature, perhaps,” answered Kaele, bringing her bag and shield down by the side of the tree.

“It ought to be a beast, I bet,” said Ronald with a grin, pacing around.

“Don’t be absurd,” said Lucius, irritation in his voice. “A beast with that size would have granted Huntsman’s Copse a higher difficulty level than our party could handle.”

Ronald shrugged at the irritated mage. “This is a massive forest. There’s bound to be things the Guild don’t know about.”

“Enough.” Samuel interrupted. “Rather than squabble, it’s best to use that time to set camp.”

Ronald and Lucius grunted, and set their own things down by the side of the tree. Samuel sighed at the two, and spoke, “We’ll rest here for the night.” The others nodded and set off in establishing a perimeter with the fallen tree cordoning off one side.

The scholar, though, stood lonesome as he was ignorant of the ways of setting up camp. He only had slight opportunities in his time as a villager, and learned little in surviving out in the wild. As of now, he was of no help and it made him anxious as the others busied themselves with work.

He headed to the fallen tree and set his bag down. He swept his gaze, and saw the others retrieving items of import from their bags. It seemed to be some layers of cloth, and a bundle of wooden poles. Included among them were also some strings, and chained metal-bits. His eyes gleamed at the sight.

Unwilling to stand idle, he headed over to Kaele who had her hands full with cloth and wooden poles. He reached out both his hands, and asked, “Mind if I help?”

Kaele looked over with an unseemly face covered in sweat. “Thanks,” she said and handed a portion of her load. Visibly, the unease on her face weakened and a hint of color returned.

She was exhausted, more so than the others for her effort in being the party’s shield. With that alone, she already earned the respect of the scholar. Of course, as a party, everyone was an integral part in a whole; Discal understood this well. That was why he had to help.

He received the given portion and followed her alongside. They walked away from the fallen tree, and when they were a few meters away, Kaele stopped her steps. She looked back, and to the ground below her.

After a brief moment, she nodded and set her things down. Discal copied her and set his down too. He looked back at the fallen tree and took note of the distance between them.

The scholar asked, “Is there any reason why this far from the tree?”

Kaele wiped the sweat off her face. She breathed, her tense nerves turning lax. After managing her things in a neat pile, she turned to Discal. “Experience, I guess. And a measure of safety, to be sure.”

Discal took her words in and tried to understand the intricacies behind. But in moments, his expression twisted in embarrassment. No matter how learned of a man he was, it did not encompass the field of surviving in the wild.

Kaele laughed softly at the young scholar’s predicament. “If you’re unsure, it’s best to distance yourself from the unknown,” she said. “As a scholar, you should understand the importance of knowing what others do not.” The scholar nodded at her words and she directed her eyes at the branches above, gazing at something far.

“Among us adventurers, we are bound by the same rules: knowing less could snuff away the embers of your life.” The leaves swayed in the wind, their colors mixed with an orange tint. “Making a mistake here is not a mark of ridicule, but a mark of death. It will do you well to remember that,” she said, returning her gaze below.

“In this forest,” she said, “there are many unknowable things. And while that fallen tree seemed to be as thick and high as Sateya’s walls; there will be a beast who could smash it apart, or scale over with ease. At that time, the distance between you and the beast will be your grace.”

The scholar looked at the fallen tree with an understanding eye. It was five meters tall in its fell state, comparable to the walls of the outpost; it was even twice as thick.

It seemed grand and insurmountable, but nothing was set in stone in this world. Even the perpetual fog of the Accursed Woods disappeared. And like Kaele said, it was better to take a cautious stance when your life was at stake.

Kaele chuckled at Discal’s sudden change from embarrassment to thorough understanding. With a smile, she said, “All things said, let’s set camp.” She grabbed hold of a wooden pole.

“Yes,” said the scholar, removing his sight from the fallen tree. He etched her words deeply in his thoughts. Advice from a true adventurer was bound to be useful.

Soon, an hour had passed and night finally fell.

A few meters from the fallen tree, a blazing bonfire lashed out against the night. Tongues of flame dance about, summoning shadows from the forest’s depths. And mixed with the blazing red was a calming silver from the moonlight beaming down. It was a tranquil place where one found solace in the silence of the night.

...If not for the dangers of Hunstman’s Copse.

Circling the bonfire were six tents built in haste, serving nothing more but a short stop after dusk. But with the fallen tree sealing off one side, it proved to be a small bastion against the encroaching dark. It was a defensible position perfect for an exhausted party.

Further away, where the light did not reached, strings flowed from tree to tree. They were imperceptible to the common eye, much less in the dark. And together, they formed a net one had to cross to reach the camp.

But they were not meant to harm, rather to make noise when snagged on. Attached to the strings were chains of metal-bits. They would jingle and clang when something crossed the net, loud enough to reach the camp. By then, ample time would have been given for the party to prepare.

It was a simple tool, something a wanderer ought to have.

Confident in the measures they prepared, the six of them convened together by the bonfire. And anything cumbersome were set down by their tents, whether they be the chestplate Samuel had on, or Kaele’s shield.

“I’m exhausted,” said Ronald, slumping down on an improvised chair of stone. By his side was attached a short dagger, dangling in the air.

“Everyone is,” Lucius spat, glaring as he sat on a bundle of leaves. His robe was nowhere to be seen, and was replaced with a simple combination of a pair of pants and shirt.

Samuel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. His robust form accentuated by his white shirt.

“You ought to cut their pay, boss,” Miria said, stretching her back. Her short-sleeved leather shirt fitting perfectly with her slender form. She grinned, looking devillish under the light of the fire. “Or better yet, take it all once the quest ends.”

“Harsh as always, Miria,” said Kaele with a slight smile, her sword by her lap. And her attire was similar to Miria’s but was of silk and long-sleeved.

“You ‘atta show them who’s boss.” Miria turned to Samuel. “Right, boss?”

The faces of Ronald and Lucius turned grim. They glared at the young woman playing with a dagger. Kaele chuckled at the sight, and Discal watched all with a curious gaze.

Samuel waved a hand, and said, “Yes, yes. Let’s stop with the jesting for now. Everyone’s tired after all.”

The others affirmed and turned quiet. They fiddled with the things in hand, while focusing on their leader’s words.

“It’s not the best start we have, but we managed to complete the first step of three,” Samuel said, his gaze affixed at the fire. “When day comes, we’ll head out for step two. I suggest everyone to have a good night’s rest.” He looked at the others as they nodded.

“Ay, Capt’,” said Ronald.

Lucius grunted.

“Got it, boss.”

“Yes, Leader.”

“Yes,” said the scholar.

“Good,” Samuel said. “But before assigning the nightwatch, I’d like to thank our newest member. If not for him, we would have been overwhelmed back at the first Hunstsman’s Tree.”

Samuel looked at the scholar. “You’ve been of great help.”

The others agreed.

“I just did what had to be done,” replied Discal, glad he was of help. With a wry smile, he added, “But I have to apologize that I couldn’t disclose the reason for my strength.”

“Don’t be,” Ronald said. “Everyone has their cards to hide.”

“Just pass it off as you being an enhancer,” said Miria.

She smiled wryly. “Though I was the one who brought it up at first. Take it as me being blunt.”

The scholar swept his gaze, and saw the accepting eyes of the others. “You have my thanks,” he said aptly.

Samuel spoke, “You’ve helped the party. There’s nothing to be thankful for.”

Discal nodded.

Samuel continued, “With everything concluded, it’s time to rest for the night. And what we’ve been through, the second step ought to be just as difficult. It’s best to be fully rested when day comes.”

Everyone voiced they would do so.

“Then, it’s time to choose the nightwatch,” Samuel said, his voice weary as he swept his gaze.

A moment of silence passed before someone spoke up.

“I’ll take the watch,” said Discal. Although he knew little of surviving the night, it seemed obvious enough on what the nightwatch meant. And since all it entailed was to be awake until first light comes, it seemed proper for the scholar to volunteer for the work.

But he was not exempted from fatigue, as he could feel a lingering pain. The exhaustion was there, more so than he had ever felt since his change. But when he glanced at the others, he knew he was better off. He could still go on for a day or so without sleep.

“Are you sure?” asked Kaele, her eyes straining against the bonfire’s light.

Discal nodded immediately.

“You’ll have to be wary of any dangers until day comes,” Samuel said. “You won’t be getting any rest by then. Will you still take the watch?”

“Yes,” Discal said. “All those days of reading books through the night made me better at handling sleepless nights. There’s no need to worry.”

“...Alright,” said Samuel. “If you’re willing, I’ll take the opportunity to rest the night. I’ll see you when day comes.” He waved a hand and headed off for his assigned tent.

“Just shout when something’s wrong,” said Arnold with a weak grin and walked off.

Miria, almost in her tent, said, “Fool, you better not wander off.”

Lucius silently wandered off for a tent, leading the way with his staff.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Kaele said, her head peeking out from the tent.

Discal smiled and waved at her to get some sleep.

Soon, only the sound of cracking wood from the fire’s heat rang out in the night. Discal gazed at the sky, the moon shining brightly with no clouds in sight. He swept his gaze and noted the moonlight beaming down through the branches and leaves. It was bright, and allowed his eyes to see past a certain distance through the veil of the night.

But he knew dangers lurked in there, regardless of how peaceful things were now. Beasts skulked beyond where his eyes could not see, and he had to be wary when they come near. He had to strain his hearing when something trespassed the net, and not by sight alone.

He stood up and headed off for where his bag was. He shuffled through and recovered a worn and ragged journal he received at the market. He returned to his spot, and decided to pass the night by having a read.

I just have to listen for the clanging of metal, right? he asked himself in his thoughts.

He opened the journal to where he had stopped, and read the scribble-like words.

“They took one of our own,” said the first line, marked in red blots.