Marcus had stuck around the springs after Argus had left, even checking around for anything potentially left behind in the rush. The dwarf had been surprisingly thorough, truth be told. Marcus was a note to himself not to trust a drink offered by that one any time soon.
Satisfied with the search he set off back on foot to the castle, his horse having been sent back to the keep.
The progress was slow through the village but it did give the marksman something to think about as he passed by houses abandoned in haste and others had been boarded up. Fearful eyes glanced back from the shadows at him through the long walk. Every pair that looked at him pleadingly broke a small piece of his stern resolve, every angry glance reinforced his hatred for those that destroy the hard earned peace of community.

He stopped amidst the empty street and stared at Thanremere in the distance. A fortress, well protected and well stocked, enough to survive years on its own even in a siege. But what of these towns folk who were only trying to make a living? Were they to die in the event of the dead swarming their homes in the middle of the night? No.. Not now, not ever, and not under Marcus' watch.
His first order of business carried him straight to Thanremere and the nearest messenger. A note in hand it ran for Evelyn.

(the note reads: [i]Knight-Captain Sunderland, I emplore you to consider the plight of the town in the face of war. We sit behind cozy fires while the town below is cold and frightened by the rumors of our coming, scared away from gathering wood and food on their own in fear of the forests hungry denizens. 
I ask, demand, that you take action and bring them within the keep. The dungeons are not hospitable but they are warm. We have food and blankets to spare, and we have the soldiers still to allow armed escorts for woodsmen and hunters. Every person who dies now in the night is one more for the necromancers to use against us. See reason.
-Marcus Deadeye[/i])

Marcus ventured through the halls to the sound of cheers, one such recruit talking of a celebration at the vigil. To celebrate the promotion of one Aundair Ivellos. The mood soured immediately as his pace quickened, searching for the young initiate. While Marcus was happy to celebrate a promotion, now was not the time to be wasting supplies. It had been far too quiet after the hive extinction. Storms brewed while the land lay idle.
Marcus caught up to Aundair and approached from behind, his face a snarl as he spun the templar around and stared daggers into the young mans eyes. "A celebration? We are in the middle of a WAR, or have you forgotten what we did in the tunnels so quickly. Lives are being lost and the peasantry lay beyond our doorstep in the cold begging for scraps while you would gorge yourself? You have made one mistake, Aundair and I pray you understand good sense enough to know how to fix it." He shoved past the stunned templar and grabbed the nearest initiate, roughly grabbing him by his front collar and all but throwing him towards the keep. "you, and the rest of your friends will be going through the town the moment I get word back from the knight captain. I want every villager out in the cold inside our walls by sundown." He let go of the mans collar as he ran off to give out the message, rounding up every initiate along the way but Aundair who was told to stay behind. When the two were alone he turned to face him but smiled. "If they were willing to celebrate your promotion, how do You think they Will react when i tell them every single initiate Is being promoted to knighthood by sunrise, in front of the whole town?"