A few hours earlier

Balian’s previous days travel had taken him along the banks of the river Gallow, a tried, tested and timeless way of ensuring that as long as your not robbed or killed by bandits you’ll make it to the town-stead of Galloway. He was not far from one of the two gates granting entrance to the town. Gorse had been spreading in the mild breezes that passed, the very thorny, evergreen bushes had blossomed their second and final abundance of yellow flowers. The ranger had thought about picking a load to flog off to one of the many traders in town, in plenty of towns he had passed over his years of travel the Gorse had been popular among the younger ladies coming into adulthood. However, he decided against it in favor of taking a proper night’s rest in the first town he had decided to stay longer than a few hours in months.

The sun beginning to set in the sky behind the walls and rooftops of Galloway looked almost picturesque, Balian shaded his eyes bringing a flat palm to his brow as he took in the scene. Taking a moment for a deep breath he hurried onwards, approaching the gate he was pulled away by a familiar voice, “Could it be? Has the midlands ranger returned?” The voice came in jest, the sort you would expect to be greeted with when a catch up with an old friend is long overdue. He turned his head to look at a man maybe a head shorter than Balian, a thin smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Balian, it’s been too long.” The man spoke as he approached the ranger, arms outspread. “You remember me don’t you?” He teased.

“How could I forget, Brother.” Balian replied, embracing his friend for a moment. These men were not brothers by blood but a bond stronger. “Leon, it’s good to see you.”

“Aye, that it is.” Leon replied, “Well, what tales have you to share since… Well it must be near two years by now. And where’s the lovely Morrigan you’re so fond of?” Leon noticed a sudden, subtle change in Balian’s eyes and before he could reply noted, “How about an ale? One thing I’ve always enjoyed about Galloway is the ale!” With that the ranger found himself relaying through the towns streets, catching up with his old friend. Despite being sunset, the town was still alive, merchants and vendors filled the market, children played games in the side streets while women carried baskets and guards stood at post, ensuring nothing under their eye goes astray.

It didn’t take the pair long to wind up in front of a dainty tavern. Certainly not the most extravagant tavern in Galloway but in the mind of Leon and Balian, the best. They found themselves sat by a table in a corner by the fire and over two tankards of Galloway Ale chat about anything and everything. Conversation lead on to seemingly unfounded rumors of Beastmen warbands already being this far South. Balian assured Leon that there was no such thing, having come from farther North with no signs of Beast Parties having come past the remains of Lindon yet.

The tavern was quiet enough, a few other patrons sat quiet mostly, drinking their ale, contemplating the day coming to a close. Balian looked around nodding in acknowledgement as he made eye contact with one such patron, an older man who hadn’t aged well and now spent his days in “The Retired Sword” drinking away memories past. The lighting in the tavern mostly came from the open fire, the sparse gas lanterns had been turned down low and most of the candles remained unlit. He took another drink, emptying his tankard and with his free hand wiped his upper lip of the froth on his lip as he put the tankard down. He took a small satchel and through a few silver crowns onto the table, “Next ones on me.”

Present

Balian sat alone at the table he had been sharing with Leon, who had been rushed off by an associate, business was all the ranger managed to get from the conversation. That was like Leon, and it had been good to catch up with his old friend. It had grown darker outside, dusk had fallen over Galloway and Balian now warm and with a taste for the ale began to feel the fatigue of his journey. There was no doubt that he would be staying in the town at least one night, having secured one of the five guest rooms in the tavern. The warmth of the fire kept the whole tavern warm and the bar had begun fill out with more patrons flocking to it. The lighting in the tavern hadn't changed much yet, there was still not much need.

The patrons talked about a lot of things, mostly rumors, Balian discerned from harmlessly eavesdropping into a few of their conversations. Pestilence, Beastmen, Undead. He wondered how much was true, the beastmen of course were not made up but none had made it this far South yet. A pestilence spreading from the east? And the dead rising from their graves? He decided to wave them off as rumors although he knew not to count anything out, and if true, it was times like these that brought out the doomsayers.

.

The monk was on his way back to the tavern, disappointed by how unsuccessful his day had been. Eusine had woken up very early, just as the sun had started to show itself in the horizon, slowly covering the dark city in a light yellow tint. Like every morning, his routine was comprised of meditation, followed by a light breakfast and some martial arts training. After that, Eusine had gone out into the city, talking to the smallfolk and the guards, finding out as much as possible about the beastmen and if there had been any sightings.

He was told plenty of stories, but most of them sounded more like made-up tales than actual sightings and facts. People loved to gossip, exaggerating and making up stuff to make their stories sound more interesting than they really were. It was a custom that Eusine hated and did not understand the need for.

On his journey so far, he had yet to see any signs of beastmen ravaging. There were plenty of supposed sightings and witness reports floating around the land, but Eusine had yet to see anything that proved there was truth to the stories. However, he doubted his brotherhood would sent off their best warriors just because of a few tales, so there had to be something happening somewhere. Something dark and dangerous. He tried to leave his disappointment behind him. If needed, he would leave Galloway on the morrow, in the hopes of coming across something of interest on his path to the next major city.

Eusine turned a corner and the tavern he was staying in came into sight: "The Retired Sword". It didn't offer much, on the other hand the monk was used to leading a simple life, which meant he was not in need of any luxuries.

As Eusine entered the building he was greeted by the warmth of the fire and the smell of meat and spices. It had been quite some time since his last meal, a light, but delicious onion soup back in a little shop in the town's square. The monk's stomach started grumbling, so he approached the man behind the counter, ordering an ale and some meat and bread. The young man fetched him a tankard of ale, and told the monk to take a seat while he prepared his meal. Eusine observed the room.

There were plenty of patrons, some sitting by themselves, others were hanging out in groups, exchanging stories and gossip. Having had more than his share of fantastic tales for a day, Eusine decided to sit down in a lonely corner, where he could eat and drink in peace. A young man who was sitting a few tables closer to the wall made eye contact, and Eusine smiled and nodded back, he didn't want to appear impolite.

His meal arrived shortly after. When Eusine took a bite of the spiced meat, he could feel how his mood slightly improved. He looked out of the windows, obeserving the slowly setting sun...and started to wonder what the next day might bring.

---

Sorja the Swift- more commonly known as Blue Fox- stretched luxuriously in his bed. For several moments, he writhed happily in bed, still attempting to find that perfect comfortable spot that had suddenly disappeared. After trying to find it and failing, he got up instead.

The Blue Fox slept relatively naked- that is, underpants and socks. He slung his bare feet over the side of the bed and staggered upright, swaying slightly before steadying. He scratched at his chest or shoulder idly as he puttered around his room, collecting his gear and piling it on his bed. Normally, he'd already be up, but yesterday was a good day.

And the fact that his 'day' is someone else's 'night.' He's a major night owl, and it always works to his advantage. It's a little obvious, after all, walking around in broad daylight in black and blue- he wasn't convicted or a criminal, technically, but he didn't want everyone to see him.

So, throwing on his tunic and leggings, fitting all his silky-smooth clothing in everywhere to make sure his appearance was perfect as always, he strode out his door to the candlelight of the tavern's upstairs corridor. He was, technically speaking, an honest working man. He was given a deal, he completed his side of the deal, and he got paid. And because there was no evidence of any wrongdoing on his part, even if an expensive, rare necklace recently went missing or a man was found dead in his sleep, he was free to walk around. Not that the common guard won't harass him and try to bring him in for questioning, simply because they believe he's the murderer and thief.

Which he was. They just couldn't prove it. That, and the higher-ups rather liked him, since they gave him half his contracts. Their underlings couldn't do much because of this.

Descending down into the common room of the inn, he gave a nod to his distant relative, the innkeeper, and took his normal seat on the far side of the room, adjacent to the door, in the rather lit corner- there was a torch there, see. Having sat down, he waited for the innkeeper's daughter to bring his usual fare of stew, bread, and special mead. Oh, he loved mead- but not ale. Mead was smoother, with honey. Ale was crude, rougher, like beer.

He paid the innkeeper's daughter with the proper coin, his usual silver tip, and a flash of a smile. And as usual, the girl smiled back, cheeks rosy, and headed back off to help her father. He didn't like many people, but the innkeeper and his family was the exception.

As he dug into his meal, eating carefully and quickly- not spilling a single drop, or any more than a couple crumbs- he listened in on everyone else, and surveyed the room.

More talk of crazy things, and two newcomers. He recognized everyone else- he wouldn't take contracts that involved the people who frequented or occasionally came to the tavern. These two are new.

He eyed them, subtly, as he ate. The torch highlighted him, of sorts, but also made his less dangerous. Anyone could see him; they'd certainly note that he rarely, if ever, looked up, and wouldn't think that he'd be watching everyone just the same.

On the other side of the Tavern was raucous laughter and to one man, the true spirit of the tavern. A huge bulk of a man could be seen at one end of the table, with a small crowd gathering round. The muscular man could be seen downing an entire tankard of ale, with three empty ones beside him at the table. On the opposite side was a smaller man, who was struggling with his second drink. The game was simple, first to down five tankards wins. This man was Darius, a mercenary for Galloway, who hailed from an unknown land. When he has no work, Darius regularly stayed at the "Retired Sword Tavern". Here, Darius drinks and feasts, performing impressive feats of consumption of the fine alcohol and food, usually for money. He slammed down the forth tankard, and leant over.

"You'll want to hurry up there, lad!" He taunted playfully.

His opponent meekly put down the second tankard, and groggily dragged the third one to him. "Gimme a..." he began before he abruptly burped.

Darius merely laughed as he swiftly grabbed his final tankard, and raised it high with a cheer to the crowd before beginning to drink it. In half a minute, it was gone, and he raised his hulking arms in triumph before wiping his mouth. "That's 20 pieces." He stated. The man simply put his half full drink down, and put the money on the table. "I don't know how you do it, but you did," and with that, the man vacated his seat, taking his tankard with him, but leaving the other two. Darius picked up a coin, and flipped it up before catching it again, admiring the pattern. There was no money like this at home, and he never got money at the Pits either. Coins were okay, but if Darius didn't get a contract soon, then he'd be out of pocket real quick. He looked around, seeing no one of relative note. Everyone seemed normal, but tonight... something was a tiny bit off. His thoughts quickly went back to himself as he picked up a piece of bread he paid for before the drinking game and began to eat it, an attempt to soak up the alcohol he just consumed. Until something happened, he interacted with the small crowd he gathered, laughing and drinking the man's leftover ale with them.

.

Sophia Pax wandered aimlessly through the woods just outside the township of Galloway. She was aware the town was nearby since she saw the signs before she left the road, plus her map showed it. She was enjoying being around all the plants. Out of the corner of her eye she caught the sight of a small flower. Kneeling down to examine the flower, a grin came over her face. This plant was semi-rare. Its leaves are good for making a bitter tea that relieves pain, but it is avoided by the common folk because its root is known to cause stomachache in cattle. Sophia pulls out her knife to pluck the plant out of the ground.

Suddenly there was a rustling in a bush nearby. Sophia dropped what she was doing and grabbed her bow. Instinctual she notched an arrow and drew back. Out of the bush, hopped a small rabbit. It seemed oblivious to Sophia being there. Sophia breathed a sigh of relief. The bunny was not likely to harm her as her imagination had imagined. She lowered its bow as the rabbit hopped away. She quickly grabbed the plant she was harvesting and left before something worse found her.

Sophia made her way back to the main road and then entered the town of Galloway. The sun was just leaving the sky and the town folk seemed to be turning in or moving into the taverns. Sophia found the tavern "the Retired Sword" and entered. She made her way through the crowd straight to the tavern keeper to inquire about renting a room.

The ranger had not yet gone up to his room, he knew what to expect a bedroll, a bedpan and if lucky a window, perhaps a desk. Well fed earlier in the evening, consuming his share of meat, bread and ale entertainment was not planned but well provided by the mercenary, a large man winning gold crowns beating all who opposed him in a drinking competition. At some point in the evening he had felt like someone had been watching him but hadn’t been able to pinpoint who with all the other distractions in the inn. He shook it off as harmless. He had noticed that some of those who were in the tavern were certainly not the serfdom or any class of Galloway, others well armed, perhaps adventurers, warriors, a monk and even what seemed to be another ranger, female although Balian was unsure exactly.

---

It had grown late and Balian had been on the verge of retiring to his room for the night and awaiting for what tomorrow would bring, when the commotion began. The guards running down the street in force, lighting lanterns, it all seemed so ominous. The tolling of the town bell was when the ranger realized something was wrong although sat quietly still while other patrons began to rush around. Balian checked his quiever, bow, sword and dagger his first thought towards beastmen. Knowing what threat they posed in number began to formulate a plan. Follow the guards, and fight. Running now of course would be wiser in the interest of ones personal safety but he felt lured to the fight, almost bound.

The ranger stood and made his way towards the small group of men crowding around the window facing onto the street, tankards in hand trying to get a glimpse. He attempted to lean over them and look but when this failed ushered them out of the way, one man cursed attempting to start an argument in his drunken state until he saw the weapons at Balian’s disposal. However he hadn’t noticed the patrons rambling, instead he was looking onward down the street, not able to make out much when a second patrol of similarly armed city guardsmen trotted down the street.

“What’s out that way?” He asked one of the other patrons curiously trying to look through the window although a couple of others stood in the now open doorway of the tavern.

“Just the town cemetery, nothing but bones and dirt.” The townsman shook his head and sipped from his tankard. “Apparently built over an ancient burial ground but I’m not sure how much I-” Balian cut him off, thanking him and heading for the doorway pushing his way onto the street.

@SmileyJaws

Darius, albeit a tiny bit drunk by now, also turned his attention to the commotion outside. Things like these happen, but from what Darius heard, Beastmen weren't in the immediate vicinity of the city, so what else goes on here? He stood up and picked up his axes, sheathing them over his back. His height made him tower over everyone else, but he could still crouch down to look through the window. Spying the two patrols, and a Ranger run out of the tavern, it seemed like there was battle to be had. Perfect...

Running behind the Ranger, Darius followed the hooded man to the fight, eager for what was to come.

Eusine was still wide awake when the quiet tavern seemed to be coming back to life all of a sudden. The monk didn't need much sleep, so he spent a lot of his time meditating and practicing his martial arts, as to not lose his edge. He opened the door, and in fact, there were a number of patrons walking about, pushing each other to get a look out of the window. Was something happening in the town? Maybe some sort of trouble? No, the monk thought, too quiet for that. What then?

Eusine stepped out of his room to get a better idea of what was going on. He still had no clue as for the reason of the commotion, but it seemed like a party of two, some sort of warriors by their looks, were heading outside to check out what was going on. The monk hated to stick his nose in other people's business, but what if it was beastmen after all? Was it not his duty to help out as much as he could? Eusine quickly grabbed his few possessions from his room and started running towards the exit.

If he wanted to keep up with the other two, he would have to be fast.

Sophia laid several silver coins on the counter as she paid for a room for the night and a mug of wine. Before she even got her wine, the town bell began ringing. She sat at the counter for a moment as she thought whether or not to act. She had not attachment to these towns people. As the innkeeper brought her the mug, Sophia got up. She grabbed her bow and moved out of the inn to join the town defense. She could not stand by and just let innocents fall if she could help it. She also would not be able to sleep if beastmen started destroying the town.

Balian took note of those following him as he traversed through the town streets, following the guards. There was an eerie atmosphere in Galloway and the ranger was glad he would not be alone in confronting what awaited them. A Beastman horde was irrational, he had come to this conclusion and now was curious. Whatever it was they were getting themselves into was surely not to be taken lightly with the amount of attention it had drawn from the state soldiers who watched over the town.

It seemed like forever they had been running, anticipation killing Balian when the noise of commotion filled the night air. He drew his bow as the guards slowed up pace, women, men and children running frantically away from the area, pushing past guards a couple tripping and hurting themselves in the process. "What's going on here?" Balian placed his palm on a guards arm, grabbing his attention.

"I don't know..." The guard looked anxious, "There's talk of the dead rising from their grave, unable to be shaken... The more of us that fall, the more of them rise and apparently they reanimate when they've been struck down!" It was obvious to the ranger that this man was not one of the state soldiers, just a conscript, probably a farmer or prisoner. They didn't have as much armor as the state soldiers who filled their ranks in the crowd. Balian thought this strange, it was unusual for a town to have conscripts except in time of war and as far as he was aware, there was no war going on right now or had the political upheaval reached a new level? No. He would have heard about it by now. The undead? It looked like the rumors were true, it came as a shock to the ranger, the thought of the undead sent a shiver through his body and made the hairs on his arms stand to attention. Just as it was all beginning to sink in an older man with a fantastic beard and mustache, white as snow, armored like the regular state soldiers but with a plume of blue feathers on his helmet began to speak, obviously a commanding officer of some sort.

"Right boys! We've got a shit storm on our hands here. I don't care much for your feelings. Now is the time to draw on your courage, we have to hold these bastards 'til morning!" It seemed as if he was about to go on but his attention was drawn by the first few undead stragglers, splintered from their group. He looked back at the men with him, "The time is now!"

The heavy bell toll continued to resound around the city and for a few moments the character of this commanding officer had drowned out the commotion and panic that surrounded them, it all began to flood back in and as the ranger watched the undead he noticed how they moved quickly, fiercely but still managed to keep a sluggish look to them. The level of decomposition varied but the majority of the dead before them were mostly bone. A small child, seperated from his parents came into view, running as best a toddler can screaming for his mother or father, a bear held in one hand for dear life. Balian's eyes widened, knocking an arrow he forcibly tried to push past the soldiers whose attention was elsewhere, however it wasn't easy to get through the armored guard and the ranger found himself being pushed back as two of the skeletal beings closed in on the child, still desperately waddling away, screaming and crying louder now. Not able to push passed, Balian cursed and loosed the arrow his aim thrown off not able to get a clear shot, the arrow flew past the first of the undead taking chase on the boy, snapping in two as it made contact a wall. The ranger cursed again, louder this time and loosed another arrow, still unable to get a good shot this one however pierced the skull, the bones dropped to the ground in a pile but the second skeleton had caught up to the child and now was on top of the boy. "The child!" He roared as he finally broke out of the group of soldiers, drawing his sword and running towards the boy and the undead. By now the kid's cries were frantic but growing weaker.

The ranger let out a mighty cry as he brought his sword in an upward swing, severing the skeleton at the spine, the bones crumpled to the ground and despite the growing horde that spilled from the side streets, Balian lowered his sword. The boy was dead... An overwhelming sadness filled him. This was not right, he knelt down on one knee and wiped the snot and spit from the child's face, closing his eyes as the expression was haunting. Punching the ground, Balian looked up and saw they were almost upon him, he stood to his feet once more and raised his sword.

The little group that had formed kept running towards the direction of the cemetery. As they came closer, they passed more and more people running the the opposing direction. Whatever was happening, the townfolk were scared, most of them looked pale and lost. Was it the beastmen? If so, what were they trying to accomplish at the cemetery? The whole thing did not sound right. Whatever it was, Eusine told himself to be careful.

Eventually, the man in front of him slowed his paces, a group had gathered in front of them. Eusine slowed down as well, still trying to get a look at what was actually happening, but to no avail. He came closer to the man who had been running in front of him, who was now talking to someone who looked like a guard. Eusine managed to hear the last few words he spoke "...dead rising from their grave, unable to be shaken...the more of us that fall, the more of them rise and apparently they reanimate when they've been struck down!" The news surprised Eusine. His brothers and master had taught him a few things about necromancy, a powerful, but corrupt power, allowing some to raise the dead and command them to do their bidding. If that was truly what was happening here, some evil powerful force had to be close-by.

An important looking guy started shouting commands shortly after, instructing his man to keep the undead at bay as much as possible. Eusine looked around, and finally managed to get a look at a mob of undead. They looked like regular people, expect for the fact that they were already decomposing, some more and some less. They had definitely been raised from the local graveyard, Eusine was sure of it. A cry grabbed Eusine's attention, and the man in front of him seemed to have noticed as well. He suddenly tried to get past the guards, losing two arrows at something. Eusine didn't understand what was happening, but the desperation in the man's actions moved him to act as well. He tried to get past the guards as well, pushing them away witht the other man.

The wall of people eventually broke apart, enough for the man to run past, followed by Eusine right behind man. When he finally realized what was happening, Eusine's heart skipped a beat. The man took out one of the undead, but it was too late. He kneeled down, and closed the dead boy's eyes. Eusine was not the type to get angry easily, but what just happened was enough to make even the calmest monk's blood boil. A boy had been killed, and whoever was resposible, Eusine would find him and make him pay for it.

He suddenly realized that the undead were gathering all around them. Tightly grabbing his staff, he prepared to channel his anger at the mob around him. The man was getting up as well, sword still in hand. "Warrior" Eusine shouted as he turned his back at the man. "It seems we are both surrounded. I suggest we each take care of one side, keeping each other's back save." Eusine didn't wait for an answer, as the undead were already uncomfortably close. The staff in his hand lashed out, knocking two from their feet. As they lay on the ground, Eusine followed up with a kick and a smash of his wooden staff. The impact was enough to break the undead's skull.

He glanced up. The fight had just started, and the night was far from over. Eusine started swinging around his staff.