“My esteemed ally,

Despite the Traxian aggression drawing my attention westward. I have been able to persuade Wulfgar the Wise to our point of view, though the new Meltonian King remains apprehensive. My court mage has also informed me of ley line and mana disturbances occurring at alarming rates in the far north, though they advance ever close to the Frostwinds. Two Ascarian delegates are also willing to hear our pleas, but I suspect without more direct support from the church, it will be difficult to convince more of the other Prince Mayors. My envoy should have reached Abenstadt and Arteria by now, and we can only hope the Grand Duke and Council will heed our pleas.”

- Letter sent by King Edelin of Carrador

They were ahead of schedule, provided that nothing stopped their journey. Luck had been on their side as they actually ran into a caravan just before Fernsreach, Mila explained their goal of checking out Harweald as ‘church affairs’ and that they were sent to investigate rumors of the advancing horde in the area. The caravan’s leader had nonchalantly shrugged and allowed them to tag along. So it was that their respite in Fernsreach consisted of only a few brief hours as the caravan traded their wares and restocked on supplies.

Since Fernsreach, the caravan had traveled for two days already, leaving them two more days until they would reach Harweald once more. Ash neighed unhappily and Mila gave him a reassuring pat. They were halfway there but she already felt uneasy, an oppressive atmosphere that clearly even Ash felt. She turned to look back at the ranger who tilted her head slightly, damn, even she felt it. This doesn’t bode well. Mila growled to herself and tapped her hand on her hip, mimicking the motion of drawing her weapon. Annalise nodded in response, we’d be prepared if something did happen, just have to hope we’re being paranoid instead.

The caravan currently numbered three wagons, two carts, and about a dozen merchant and guards. Then there were the two of them, trailing at the very rear alongside one of the rangers. So far, the only troubles they’ve encountered were a small raiding party of orc beast riders, their wargs approached with barely a trace. But with the presence of the guards and Annalise herself, they had taken down almost all of the riders before the last few routed. The ranger had acquitted herself particularly well, sniping the raid leader and two riders at what even Mila had determined was maximum effective range. The ranger’s stoic, silent shooting earned the respect of the caravaneers and their guards.

But, Mila just found herself that much more worried about the ranger’s mental health. Her companion’s silence only solidified her own worry that the ranger was approaching some form of tipping point, and that if disaster had in fact visited Harweald, then the ranger might just break. That… that might be problematic. Mila turned back to focusing on the grassy fields surrounding them, the lands of Melton still as pleasant and vibrant as before. If only it didn’t feel like danger is gonna be around every corner, this could almost be a nice vacation. She sighed and cracked her neck, her eyes homing in on any bit of terrain that looked out of place. To her own relief, she saw nothing of note.

A loud whistle came from the front of the caravan and the guard riding with them rode ahead, giving the two of them a curt nod as he rode past. It was a noise they had felt some comfort in hearing the past two days, it was the whistle to indicate that they were pausing for a break, a moment of respite where they no longer had to be as alert.

The afternoon sun seemed weaker now, almost as if a distant layer of fog had formed above them to hide the sunlight from the surface. Mila shuddered at the thought, dark rituals are at play, I just know it.

“Mila.” Annalise’s voice quietly spoke up from behind her.

Mila gave the ranger a nod and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to be… too doubtful but what if-” Annalise began.

“It’ll be fine, ranger.” Mila cut her off.

“But what if it’s not?”

“Then we’ll deal with the troubles as they arise.”

“But-”

“It’s just the two of us.” Mila stated before taking a look around at the caravaneers eating their midday meals, “Effectively anyways. So there’s not much we can do to prepare besides just expect trouble. Regardless, it’ll be fine.” Mila stated.

Annalise seemed to grow a little more despondent, but overall she seemed to drop the matter for now. The two settled down and cast glances at each other, Mila looking grim and the ranger looking far more dour. Mila offered a less than reassuring nod but Annalise put on a faint smile nonetheless. The two shared a moment of tiredness, the exhaustion on both their faces plain for each other to see. They relaxed and waited for the rest of the caravan, nibbling on their rations and keeping an eye out for trouble.

Mila spent what little time they had tending to her equipment, sharpening her blade and ensuring every strap on her armour was tightly bound. She searched her boots for breaches, tightened her belt, and took stock of all their supplies in case things did go wrong. Her only regret was that with Taurox away and Sergeant Wilde likely back with Inquisitor Von Krantz’s company, it meant that Annalise and herself would have to be extra diligent during combat. Whilst Mila had trained for years, her own reflexes and skills were nothing compared to the templar sergeant, much less the blademaster. At least with a death defying maid around, someone else could draw attention during a fight. Now, Mila had to content with both taking the brunt of the blows as well as dishing out any potential melee damage. Especially considering that without her mount, the ranger was effectively a stationary turret, likely also highly unsuitable for any form of melee combat. May the High Goddess keep us from harm.

Battle was a sound that Mila had grown indifferent to, the screams of men and beast alike all but part of the process of claiming victory. It was the lead up and anticipation that gave her the most grief. The uncertainty of what one might be facing or even who, against opponents crafty enough to hide until the last possible moment. It was the same anticipation that she felt now, as the caravan began cresting a hill, the bad feeling within one when they knew something was bound to go wrong.

The caravan had begun traveling shortly after their rest, taking advantage of the daylight to force march themselves a little closer to Harweald. Luck had shone down upon them once more, the Goddess taking pity on them and allowing the lesser Goddess of Travel Stellesia to help them discover a shortcut that shaved off almost half a day’s worth of time. It had essentially allowed them bypass an arduous trek between two hills and instead see themselves cresting the taller of the two and giving them an advantage in scouting out their future route. So far so good.

Only when they approached the hill did Mila start feeling uneasy, her own inquisitorial instincts slowly roused themselves to attention. I don’t like this. She turned to look around to find the ranger still oddly relaxed, in fact, everyone seemed relaxed except for her. She slowly began doubting her own mind, wondering if she was the one who was just overly paranoid. From atop the hill, she could see quite a distance away, and if she raised her hand she could envelop the entirety of the Harweald Basin in her palm. Behind it the ominous woods of the Mistveil loomed over the horizon, each tree like some deformed and gnarled entity stretching upwards from the ground, grasping at the sky.

To her own increasing frustration, no one seemed to feel anymore stressed than her. It was an irritating feeling to be sure and Mila only found her own doubts intensifying each moment they lingered. Wrapped up in her own mind, Mila cursed herself and gestured for Aryana to wait where they were atop the hill. The ranger flashed her a curious look in response by cocking her brows, but only grunted in affirmation when Mila got close enough. Good enough I suppose.

Mila gave Ash a light tap on the left side of his neck and he responded by turning his walk into a rapid trot as they raced past the rest of the caravan to the front. They passed by a few curious merchants still in their carts, the coachmen who gave her questioning gazes and the guards who looked past her towards the back of the caravan to see if they could spot any dangers. Mila quickly waved them back to their tasks and most did so, though a few pairs of eyes were still following her. Her arrival generated a small buzz as Ash brought her near the lead merchant and guards, the caravan leaders turning around slightly to acknowledge her presence.

“Inquisitor.” The head guard nodded, his armour clinked with every movement.

Mila nodded back at him then at the other caravaneers, her small gesture making them aware that she needed their attention.

“We are ahead of schedule, yes?” She asked a rhetorical question, but it was one that demanded an answer nonetheless.

“Aye, that we are.” The caravan master nodded, his eyes narrowing with doubt at this line of questioning.

“Would you mind breaking here for an hour or two then?” She gestured at the hilltop around them.

The caravaneers traded glances and looked around. The ground was quite flat, a decent enough place for camp, though judging by how the guards looked up and down the hill on both sides, there were certainly a few security flaws that camping in such a place might pose.

“Why’s that then?” The caravan master prodded, his tone now a little less friendly and more neutral.

“That’s Harweald over yonder,” She pointed in its direction and the others nodded, “Call it gut instinct or intuition, I just feel like something’s wrong.”

“Fridolph? Hiddi?” The caravan master asked the guard and his assistant.

The lead guard straightened his back and Mila could practically feel the man’s senses envelop the landscape as he scanned the terrain. His assistant meanwhile just looked around like a bit of a confused fool before shaking his head.

“Nothing seems out of the ordinary.” Fridolph said after a minute of scanning, the large man gave the caravan master a shrug.

“Why the strange request? We are making good progress, are we not?” The master turned back to Mila.

“I don’t know how to put it but… something just feels… off.” She scowled, “Like the air’s a little heavier than it should be.”

Her last statement generated some murmurs of agreement amongst the gathered caravaneers, the oppressive atmosphere being the one thing that everyone had mentioned at some point during their two days traveling together.

“But it’s been like that the whole time.” Hiddi questioned, the lanky assistant with far too much peach fuzz scoffed annoyingly.

“Mmm.” Mila affirmed, “But something here just feels… different.”

“Hmm.” The caravan master hummed, his brown eyes looking directly at her before flicking over to the guard, “Fridolph?”

The armoured man grunted before tapping his helmet, “Nothing here. But, she is an inquisitor. Who knows what the divine tells them, could be a premonition all I know.”

“Didn’t take you for an… Astralian.”

“Never asked sir.”

The caravan master snorted but before he could continue Mila jumped back in.

“I’d only need… say two hours? If I’m not back by then, or when the sun starts setting then…”

“Then we’ll take that as a bad sign?”

“Mmm.”

The caravan master sighed and tapped at his chin.

“Fair enough I suppose. But two hours, no more.”

“That’s all I need.” Mila nodded.

“But before you go…” Fridolph interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“Why not send the ranger? I mean, maybe it’s some church shit. But, isn’t she better at tracking stuff and noticing things amiss in nature? Not that I’m implying you aren’t inquisitor.”

“Mmm.” Mila nodded, “Perhaps, but it’s my decision to risk myself, on my own hunch.” And she’s too connected, if something is wrong, I worry she might do something rash.

“That’s respectable.”

“Alright you two, enough. You have your time inquisitor, we’ll hold here for now.” The caravan master tutted.

“Mmm.” Mila gave him a polite dip of her head.

She turned back to gesture at Annalise, telling the ranger that she’ll have to stay still for a bit. To her dismay, the ranger charged forward past the caravan, catching up to the small group in moments. Shit, I knew she wouldn’t just accept this.

Annalise’s face was a mixture of curiousness and wariness at the sudden gestures, her eyes narrowed against Mila’s own.

“What’s going on here?” Annalise forcefully asked.

“Girl’s going on recon, we’ll hold here for a two hours or a tad.” Fridolph answered.

“What?!” Came the incredulous reply.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” Mila reassured her.

“Why the hells are you leaving in the first place? Why recon? Don’t trust me to do it or something?” The ranger snarled at her.

“By the saints, no.” Mila recoiled, her mind on overdrive trying to find an excuse, “You’re one good bloody archer. I need you on overwatch, since I’m heading down there to the treeline, I won’t know what else might be coming.”

Annalise’s scowl deepened, the ranger clearly not believing such a blatant lie. Yet, Mila saw that no matter how tense the ranger’s muscles got, she still held her tongue. Annalise let out a disappointed huff and turned away, leaving the others behind.

Mila took a deep breath and sighed, she’s not gonna be very happy. She shared one last acknowledging nod with the guard and caravaneers and then gave Ash a light tap on his neck once more. With a haughty neigh, Ash prepared himself and then launched into a gallop, sending the two of them speeding away from the caravan. I hope to the Goddess that I’m wrong.

She motioned for Ash to remain calm, the horse giving her a faceful of hot air that he rudely blew out his nose. But, he was quiet and eyed his surroundings, that was all that mattered. A little more comforted that he could get away if need be, she dropped into a crouch and began skirting the treeline, staying just hidden enough to not be exposed to the outside and still be able to get a lay of the lay. She hastily slapped some mud onto her face, camouflaging herself to make her presence as unnoticeable as possible. Though she winced with disgust, she didn't stop making her way through the trees and ended up at the edge of the Harweald basin, the tipping point between Melton and the giant opening that had Harweald at its center.

The patches of trees that lined the crater also provided a scenic backdrop, making Harweald its own little community protected by the trees. But as she got closer, the sickening sense of unease wormed its way all across her body, her discomfort tingling up and down her spine. The atmosphere too, seemed hazy and even more oppressive than before, like a blanket of heavy fog or smoke pressing down upon her.

She spent the better part of twenty minutes pushing through the thick brush before finally hearing the heavy thudding of strange footsteps. Mila instantly froze and a lumbering green orc covered in light leathers and wielding javelins and spears stumbled up right in front of her. The muscular creature went to scratch its bum and look around, satisfied that it had no companions nearby and scratched again. Area should be clear then.

Without giving the orc a chance to react, she closed the distance and deliberately stepped on a twig. The ‘snap’ made the creature spin around but it was too late. Mila’s blade had already left its sheath and plunged straight up into the creature’s jaw and out the top of its skull. The blow had been particularly taxing on her small frame but she pushed through, holding it firmly in place until the orc quietly gurgled its last. She gently removed the blade, making sure the body slid carefully down and avoided any overly loud thuds from the body hitting the ground.

Using the orc as a rag to wipe away the blood on her blade, she took the chance to rummage through its belongings, finding a relatively intricately carved charm. She eyed it suspiciously before taking it into one of her pockets and hurriedly began extracting herself from the scene of the crime. She allowed herself a small breath to recover, but her hand never left the hilt of her blade, ready to swing at any moment. Shit, that was a patrol or a scout. By the saints, that was an orc patrol, that means they’re here already. Could they be…? She shook her head and drove away the intrusive thoughts, focus, scout, recon. With a grunt, she pressed forward once more.

After a few more minutes, she finally found the sunlight clearly breaking through the treeline, whatever hazy distorted variant of sunlight anyways. But, it did indicate to her one thing, she was close to the edge of the basin.

Unfortunately, one final orc stood in the way. The green creature looked like a scout observing the basin within, taking much the same approach she was. Unfortunately for it, it was crouched in its observation, lining up its head in a perfectly reachable height. Scanning the nearby terrain to make sure no other observers were around, she confidently lunged forward and struck.

Her blade smashed through its skull, sending bits of bone matter, brain, and blood splattering over the two combatants. Yet, even whilst dying, the orc proved just how resilient its species was. It managed to pull out its own weapons in an attempt to fight back, shaking off the inquisitor's attempts to hold on and separating Mila from her sword. But, she was prepared. The moment she felt her hands getting pried away from the hilt of her sword, she immediately pulled out a spare dagger strapped to her right boot. In seconds she had plunged it straight through the orc’s left eyeball, popping the small orb like a balloon as the dagger tore past it into the creature’s brain matter from the front. Its surprised and pained expression was etched onto its face as its remaining eye managed to register Mila’s face before the orc slumped downwards, dead before it even fully dropped to the ground.

With a disgusted grunt, she pulled out her blades, wiping them down before putting the knife back away. Once safely tucked away, she backed away slightly before pausing and holding still, making sure no other noises or creatures were heading her way before she moved upwards to slowly take over the orc’s position.

Her heart sank the moment she reached the basin’s edge. The entirety of the caldera-like hilly edge of the basin was covered with makeshift wooden war camps. Their slightly deep location along the slopes allowed for them to hide the vast amount of small smoke stacks that actually spat out ash and dust into the sky, all conveniently hidden behind the trees at the edge of the basin. Fuck.

She sucked in a breath and took stock of the situation she now saw inside the basin. Harweald was a town under siege, orcish camps built on all sides to cut off any contact to the outside world. Their oblong, crude and ugly looking towers dotting the basin. Yet, more curiously was that the orcs were also attempting to build a wall of sorts, a half heartedly built wooden palisade being erected in numerous places, particularly covering roads and any potential crossings. Mila assumed that this was an attempt likely meant to starve out the town itself before launching their attack. Or perhaps just to demoralise the citizenry so much that they’ll just eventually surrender.

A few of the Harweald town guard posts and formal royal army campsites beyond the town’s walls were either missing or painted red and dark green, repurposed for the orcs. She swore under her breath. This isn't a raiding party or a warband anymore, this is saint damned army.