The Westwood was an ancient forest. It predated even Despair’s Abyss, some four thousand years old. Once part of a larger primaeval woodland that encompassed two-thirds of Etrusia. Those woodlands were for aeons the home of the fair race from ancient history, the Veliar. Long extinct, mythical and natural beings. They had been the keepers of Etrusia’s natural world, living at one with all its aspects, the land, the wildlife and the cycles of change through millenia. The Veliar had built a civilization in harmony with the natural world and it was they in humankind's infancy that had watched and aided man as they too evolved into a society. Most poignant of all it was one of their kind, Sayoshti, who had sacrificed herself and ultimately her kind to stop Despair. By sealing Despair’s Abyss and saving Etrusia for future generations. Alas the Veliar were no more and little remained of their impact on Etrusia. Most was lost to time, ruin and faded into myth.

  The woodlands had a feel, some presence or aura from time immemorial. It wasn’t threatening, rather it felt heavy with its past. The squad sensed it immediately upon entering. Still the road was well maintained and the sounds of birdsong and gentle breezes through the trees dominated the air within. It was well known this place was once revered by its ancient natural guardians. They had lived in its depths and their ruins could be found within.

  Anthin had long been a student of history and the Veliar. He was keenly aware of where they were and its past. In his continuing search for knowledge he’d visited and studied ruins deep within this forest. He’d covered what little was known of the Veliar and their place in history in the boy's lessons whereas most formal education on the subject covered only Sayoshti’s Sacrifice and the end days of the race as told in the Book of Witness. There was so much lost to time and little to none of the Veliar’s culture, daily lives and society were known beyond myth for certain.

  Even their appearance was unknown though The Book of Witness depicted them as ethereal beings, lithe and graceful possessing a strength and height greater than any human. It described them as beautiful in a feral way with feline features and almond shaped eyes in almost every colour. The males tended to be larger and sported a head of mane like hair. Both males and females covered in a light fur that the colours again could run in any shade imaginable. In a word, alien to any human’s appearance.

  The troop continued much as they had before, marching the days away and resting nightly. The veterans had made the trip before. For the newcomers the feel of the forest produced a calm sense of contentment. It was not ominous and Dav and Tanisin found themselves enamoured of the forest with Anthin’s stories and teachings in their minds on the daily march. They both noted signs of its original inhabitants, ancient worn marker posts interspersed along the roadway. Distance markers according to Anthin as he relayed to them one evening a few days in.

  He’d come to them at that night’s stop as they were eating with the squad and deposited himself on the ground between the two. Both were on last guard that night and though tired from the march and the drill before dinner they were taking their time to eat before turning in.

  “Well, what do you think of the great Westwood forest?” He was cheerful. Nothing seemed to ever dull his spirits.

  Tanisin gave a smile. “It’s… trees Anthin. Miles and miles of trees, I do wish I didn’t feel like they were watching us the whole way!”

  “It’s a lot more than just trees, Tan.” An exasperated Anthin began just as Dav spoke too.

  “I like it here, how it feels. It's aware but only so much yet it gives us only a moment's notice. Like we were flies it could sweep away at whim should we trouble it but we aren’t so it doesn’t bother. There’s no malice, just a passing thought.”

  Anthin nodded. “As I said, much more than just trees. The land remembers, recalls days long past. Times when the Veliar strode these paths for thousands of years before mankind crawled out of the muck. It recalls when it was one with all the primaeval forest in Etrusia. When the land was nurtured and the ancient ones acted as shepherds to all living things. I dare say it remembers a time even before the Veliar when the world was new.”

  The scope of Anthin’s words considering the magnitude of time struck both Tanisin and Dav. The brief days of their lives were naught to this forest and the mighty presence of it. The scope of a man’s lifetime was a speck, a mere moment to these trees.

  For six days they marched through that great forest and five nights camped inside the trees. In that time the four recruits came to know their companions better and a camaraderie formed.

  Even Relf seemed to find his place and started to take his predicament in stride. He never did have it out with Dav and Tanisin. Instead he found that the more he accepted his lot the better he felt about it. He was aided in this by Willhem who had taken Relf under an unofficial tutelage. Willhem offered him friendship and support at a time when he needed it and Relf had begun to take the prospect of soldering seriously as he began to apply himself to it in earnest.

  For their part the two orphans slowly opened up to Relf too. They had to by the very proximity they found themselves with him but he seemed to gradually lose the animosity he’d held so close. The veterans Smith and Trepins had also assumed a mentorship with the recruits. Begrudging at first then with more enthusiasm as the new-comers proved their mettle with soldier life if not in combat. Thanks to training and drill all became competent with their issued weapons. By the end of the trip through the Westwood the unit moved and acted cohesively and the four recruits hit their stride.

  With the fringes of the woodland in sight and the last stretch of the journey to The Citadel before them two of the scouts came tearing back to the marching column and reported directly to Sergeant Millin. It was just past midday so a halt was ordered and the troop took the chance to drink from canteens as the scouts gave their report. The pair were a bit excitable if not outright worried. They were on the doorstep of home with the forest end in sight and nothing between them and The Citadel other than the farmlands known as the Grant. The Grant was safe, land encircling the Dreadlands on all sides meant as both a buffer to those dark places and as a means of sustenance and provision for the Church and subsequently the Corps. It had been given to the Church through treaties with all the lands in Etrusia for perpetuity and had to date since then never seen conflict or strife beyond sporadic shambler activity.

  Sergeant Millin was done with the scouts who were now waiting off to one side as she went to address The Enlightened and his group. She spoke to them for a few minutes with concern plain on her face as she relayed information to Enlightened Serivus and Brother Anthin. Both looked worried about what they were hearing and Anthin even went so far as to make a sign to ward off evil. It was clear that what they heard was concerning. The Enlightened’s face had gone pale by the time Millin was done. His whole party moved off the road and milled around as if unsure what would happen next. Sergeant Millin strode back to her horse and mounted. Then she and the scouts approached the waiting squad to address them.

  “Squad, the scouts report that there are husks nearby!” The soldiers remained quiet though both Dav and Tanisin felt a quickening pulse. Shamblers in the Westwoods were unheard of since the formation of the Corps; it had never happened. To be this far out of the Dreadlands meant they’d crossed the whole western side of the Grant unopposed, and the Grant was vital to the Church.

  “They are over the next rise in the road, about twenty of them. They have a few of the local folk cornered so I’m sending the scouts back to let those good people know we are close by.”

  “Ma'am, will we engage or will you have the scouts clear them off?” Corporal Trepins had a hint of hope in his voice.

  “We’ll engage!” Millins declared. “I want an orderly march to the rise, four of you grab lances for the scouts off the wagon. The Enlightened and his group will stay here with the wagon. I’ve instructed the scouts to have the locals facing off the husks to try and push them all onto the roadway. We’ll form a wedge. The scouts will join us at the top of the rise and we will smash them. The scouts will charge and scatter. The farmers will stay in the trees and keep the creatures on the road, then the foot soldiers will clean up the mess. Remember to go for the head.”

  The squad formed up behind Sergeant Millin two by two and marched to the top of the rise. They set up in the wedge formation there as Millin had instructed. Dav and Taninsin took position on one end opposite Relf and Willhem on the other, with Millin at point and the rest of the veterans spread out behind her. The Shamblers gathered on the road ahead milling around and being held in place by the tools carried by the farm folk in the trees. They were still too far away to see in any great detail, to the recruits they just looked like more people on the road. A couple lay lifeless but a good sized group remained. Enough to cause problems for those unprepared or not used to dealing with them.

  As the squad prepared the scouts arrived. Materialising from the woodlands they turned their horses in front of Sergeant Millin and formed up four across carrying lances that had been provided from the wagon.

  A hush fell among the troops as they anticipated the order to engage. The veterans were used to dealing with shamblers and showed no outward signs of concern. For the recruits a swirl of worry and fear penetrated thoughts, though they too stood stoic and tried to appear unconcerned. None of them had faced these things before, they’d never even seen one. Now here they were about to do both at once.

  With all ready Millin gave the order, “Advance at a walk.” The squad stepped into action. A smooth walk in formation soon brought the enemy into focus. They were ugly human-like creatures resembling corpses. None wore any clothing. Their skin was parchment thin, dry, greyish and pale and appeared to be stretched thin over their bones. Faces with deep set eyes, gaunt and skull-like and none had much for hair to speak of. It was a shock to both Dav and Tanisin to see all shapes and sizes. Some appeared to be female and even some that were no larger than children.

  The husks were mindless beyond trying to get at the farmers holding them at bay from the trees. Surging towards their prey only to be pushed back and try again. None of them even noticed the soldiers approaching until the group was almost on top of them, close enough to see their blank staring black eyes and stiff rictus grins.

  Millin drew her sword and gave the order, “Lancers Charge.” The scouts with lances couched, put heels to their mounts and charged the creatures while the foot troops, having drawn their own swords, stayed with Millin in formation. The charge had a devastating effect. The lancers tore through them with no resistance, leaving a number of crippled and dead trampled behind. Sergeant Millin wasted no time! As the lancers hit she immediately broke into a charge followed by the squad. They crashed into the mass of seething creatures.

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  After the lancers charged the footmen had the advantage and the fight was over soon. The squad collided with the creatures with some still trying despite the troops in their midst to reach their prey in the trees. They were mindless brutes. Swords flashed in the sun as the soldiers took aim at heads that the beasts didn’t even bother to try to protect. Shamblers were of one mind, one thought. All they ever strove for was to eat. They only reacted when faced with a new possible meal and even then only so far as to try and eat that one with no thought of self preservation and no concept of defence. They didn’t stand a chance.

  As the squad swung swords, dispatching the brutes one at a time the scouts circled the fight attacking from all sides and looking for any that managed to break free or gain an advantage. None did. The farm folk–seeing the tide turn in their favour–joined the fight in earnest, stepping out of the woods to confront the enemy and managing to dispatch their fair share.

  Dav engaged with the rest as was expected of him. He rushed in full tilt, ready to dispatch any husk in his way. The first in his path was easily handled as he swung, separating its head from the body. Detached he watched the thing fall to the ground and turned to face the next. This one brought him up short. It was small, childlike in size and his brain rebelled at conducting violence against such a foe.

  He froze from the shock of it. Deep down he knew that if he didn’t act he’d end up the same as this creature. The thing reached out to him with greedy hands, mouth chomping, trying to bite at him. Revulsion flared and Dav stepped back trying to avoid its grasp, in a panic he stumbled over a rock on the path behind him. He kept his footing but was caught by those small grasping hands and in danger, though helpless to avoid it. The thing had him! Clutching at his arm and drawing its chomping mouth towards the unprotected flesh. He tried to shake it off but its grip was inhumanly strong, he couldn’t break free.

  Afraid and resigned to his fate Dav thought on how short his career would be when the small husk would bite into his arm. One second spent lamenting his fate, in the next he found himself saved. Just as the horrid little beast was about to sink its teeth into him a blade appeared as if by magic, piercing the head and ending the immediate danger to Dav. Relieved he looked up to find Relf, just then removing his blade from the creature as it sank to the ground.

  The two made eye contact before Relf nodded once to Dav and turned to rejoin the fray. Dav gave him an appreciative smile and his own nod of thanks as he stood there happy to still be among the living.

  In short order the encounter was done. None of the shamblers remained alive and not one injury was taken by the squad or the farm-folk in the fight. Even Dav was unscathed, though he remained shaken by his encounter. The farmers gave a ragged cheer at the end that was taken up by the soldiers who had come to their aid. All involved took this time to clean weapons, though with shamblers being the dry husks they were there was not much to do. Sergeant Millin ordered camp setup despite the early hour and assigned a work group to clear and burn the bodies.

  Tanisin took this chance knowing he’d not seen his last of these nightmares to study them up close. Lying dead on the road they didn’t seem that big of a threat. The chaos of the fight made the whole thing surreal and he couldn’t even recall killing the creature at his feet. There wasn’t much to the beasts really. They resembled the nickname most of the Corps had given them–husks. Slender and humanoid in form, all shapes and sizes with some, he noted with a shock that hadn't registered fully for him during the encounter, female or even worse children. They reminded Tanisin of the mummified remains he’d seen once in the catacombs of the cathedral back home. It amazed him the creatures even existed.

  “Ugly things, aren’t they?” Dav had come to take a look himself, having shaken off his terror. “All skin and bone. Do you remember those mummies we saw that day a few years back?”

  “I was thinking the same thing. I remember how scared you were when the lamp went out.” Tanisin laughed at the memory.

  That day the duo had been left to their own devices while Brother Anthin was meeting with some functionary or another. They were exploring the catacombs beneath the cathedral. A spooky endeavour they’d dared each other to partake in. Neither of them would back down that day. They’d misjudged the amount of oil in the lamp they had taken with them. They were in the dark twisting warrens with the light getting dimmer, far from the stairway they’d come down by. They’d realised too late that they wouldn’t make it back in time. In a rush for the exit the two had almost knocked each other over trying to be first out. Before they made it half way back their light had gone out.

  “You froze stiff as a board, I had to lead you out one step at a time, the both of us hands on the corridor wall to keep our bearings.” Tanisin chuckled again.

  “I still don’t like places like that. I’m sure it goes back to that day!” Dav shuddered at the recollection.

  “Ha, well to be honest neither do I.” Tanisin shivered himself. “Remember how frantic Anthin was looking for us though? Like he lost a purse full of coins on market day.”

  “I THOUGHT.” Came Anthin’s stern voice behind them. “That I’d lost something more dire than mere coin. You two, and for good that time. You were lucky to find your way out of there. Those tunnels run for miles and I don’t think there's anyone alive today who knows the full extent of them.”

  “We made it though. I for one have an unerring sense of direction.” Said Tanisin.

  “Lucky, like I said. You two have a knack for ageing me faster than nature intended.” Anthin flashed a wry grin. “I suppose it’s Sayoshti’s will, penance for my sins. Though I can’t recall any that would deserve the things you have put me through.” It was a lighthearted comment, delivered with no malice.

  “Anthin, what more can you tell us about these shamblers?” Curiosity had the better of Dav now that he’d gotten over his fear. He wanted to know more and Tanisin would need to know more as he was certain to face the monsters again.

  “Not much more than you already know lad. The myths around their existence have it pretty much correct. As you can see there’s not much to them physically. They were the first and most numerous of creatures to come from the Abyss when it opened, swarming over the land. It’s said they were people once, poor souls twisted by Despair’s influence but no one knows for certain. It is true if you're bitten by one and they don’t eat you outright that you will turn into one yourself. I’ve read the change is painful and victims that turn suffer to the end. There is no way to stop it short of killing the victim before they turn. They are what they appear to be really, walking corpses, dry and drained. Only killed by piercing the skull though no one knows why. Texts I’ve read indicate they have no brain in those heads. They are stupid creatures with one aim, to eat anything living and are easily dealt with singly or in small numbers. I’ve no doubt those farm folk we aided this afternoon could have dealt with them, though some may have fallen victim in the process. Best practice is to avoid large groups of them, wear good armour when facing them and get rid of them quickly if you're forced to face them.”

  “I thought they’d look less… human.” The resemblance was offensive to Tanisin.

  “Less like women and children.” Dav added, shivering again at the thought.

  “Indeed, that resemblance is part of what makes them fearsome.” Anthin looked away. The squad was setting up camp. Dav and Tanisin were both assigned cleanup from the battle. There was a small field past the trees at the forest edge. They went to gather gloves and get their horses to drag away the bodies, some others joined them and they all got to the grim work.

  The Citadel, the home and administrative hub of The Church of Sayoshti’s Children, headquarters of the Church’s military arm the United Guard Corps. Two days after their encounter at the woodlands edge it came into view as the company topped a large hill. The late afternoon sun sitting above the treetops behind them cast a resplendent light that bathed the place in a glow full of Sayoshti’s grace.

  When the Westwood ended after days of dim filtered light, the company crossed lands known as the Grant. These were rolling grassy hills and cultured fields, dotted with farms and small villages. The Grant had been given to the Church by mutual agreement in perpetuity roughly forty years after Sayoshti’s Sacrifice, to supply the Church with food and goods to sustain it in its mission. That land stretched from the Westwood past The Citadel to the edge of the Dreadlands surrounding Despair’s Abyss. It covered the same distance on all sides, fully encircling Despair’s Abyss as a buffer against the evil that lurked within.

  Now The Citadel lay before them, beckoning, promising for the veterans a return home and for the recruits a beginning. It was more than just a fortress. Surrounded by a city filled with people from all the four realms, a teeming mass of humanity and all the things that came with them. There were five roads each coming from a different direction. Those roads led to the city and through its gates, straight and wide until they met at the larger walls of The Citadel itself. Laid out in a large star shape with a gate at each point. Inside was a city unto itself where lived and worked the men and women who had given their lives over to service in the faith. For all present it was a wholesome and welcome sight.

  The squad marched through the western gate into the city. Dav and Tanisin marvelled at the sight. They weren’t country hayheads, Dimabri City while not the largest in Etrusia was still a city but nothing could have prepared the two for the mass of people and noise within. The first thing they noticed was the diversity there. It was a true melting pot of folk from all over, mingled together, working and travelling. What's more they all seemed happy to be there.

  As the soldiers marched onward heading for The Citadel they were not impeded despite the crowds, people melted out of their way. Older men stopped to watch with pride on their faces, recollections of time served themselves and companions lost. Housewives and mothers paused as their children stopped to stare in awe of the uniformed soldiers marching past. Two small boys no older than five or six even marched along behind for a few paces, displaying a serious attempt at military precision until their mother called them back to her.

  The recruits took it all in. They marvelled at the different cultures and peoples present. They looked with excitement and awe at all the exotic shops and goods for sale amongst the markets peppered along the roadway. Large plazas with fountains fronting libraries, museums and studios spaced intermittently on their route. It was all grand and larger than life, beautiful and overwhelming at the same time.

  After what seemed forever traversing the road with all the sights and sounds they approached the walls of The Citadel. The western gate was huge, big enough for six men abreast with room to spare. Banners sporting the circled cross that proclaimed the Church’s presence hung on either side. At this imposing entrance was another ten-squad, resplendent in their immaculate uniforms and each sporting a shining breastplate over their tunics with a double circled cross embossed over their hearts, the symbol of the Corps. As the squad entered it felt like they had once again been shadowed by the trees of the Westwood. The gate became a tunnel through the thick wall, the natural light dim enough for sconces to be needed. Tanisin looked up to the ceiling noting no less than four portcullises and numerous murder holes spaced along as they went. After an age that was truly only a handful of minutes they all emerged into The Citadel.

  The tunnel ended at a large square. Inside was a small guard station staffed by yet another ten-squad. Only one road continued eastward between the high walls forming the square. As the last of their party emerged Millin ordered them to wait out of the way as she went to report to the Captain inside the station.

  The recruits took this chance to look around. The walls of the square were only slightly shorter than the gate wall here. They all noted the arrow slits and vantage points along these high places and another smaller gate at the east end of the square would, when closed, provide a very neat trap to any force that made its way this far in. It was clear that The Citadel was built to be just that, a fortress, despite its current holy designation. One wondered looking around what exactly the Veliar were so keen to protect when they built this place.

  Millin emerged from the guard station and the squad resumed its march. Exiting the square brought them down a broad roadway and soon opened up into a vista of ornate buildings and to the newcomers seemingly alien structures. Twisting spires and palatial domes, all made by Veliar hands–not human, and all serving some purpose or another for the many functionaries and personnel of the Church. Like the city surrounding it The Citadel was a hive of activity and people from all the four realms.

  The troop made its way to a long barracks building and formed up. Orders were given and the squad made themselves busy unloading the wagon, sorting items to be stored and getting personal effects. Horses were stabled and the wagon parked. They had arrived.