The companions rode in silence for a long time with each lost to their own thoughts. Dav was morose with the knowledge that he’d ended a man's life. A doomed man or not, the fact struck him deep. He went over it again and again looking for how he might have averted the act, searching for any way he could have helped Norrin Thrain without ending his life. He found none. He settled on the fact that it had been the right thing to do and was better than having Norrin die a painful death only to be reanimated as one of those things. He took comfort that he had provided some peace to the man and to have acted on behalf of Sayoshti’s will. However he didn’t have to like it or agree with Sayoshti’s Will.

  Tanisin was angry. Angry that such things could happen to good people, people that were strong in their faith. Angry these creatures had made it here from the Dreadlands, passing the outpost and avoiding whatever patrols were about. Angry too that they hadn't arrived just a few minutes sooner and been able to deal with those husks before they’d done what they had. He would have words with the commander of the fort. He felt these things should not have slipped by them. He felt a need to place blame on something other than random chance. It galled him knowing that the Thrain’s had already lost a son as well. The Grant was a rich land and the safety of its inhabitants was–or should be–assured.

  Willhem was no stranger to death, he’d seen his share in his lifetime. It stung him though, to see such misfortune happen to people like the Thrains. Ever practical he accepted that it did happen and could to anybody, at almost any time. He, like Tanisin, wished they’d been there sooner! Wished they could have taken care of things before Norrin had been bit. Yet he recognized it as Sayoshti's will, unfair though it was.

  Deliah was also familiar with the cold reality of death. Her tribe often warred with and raided others. From a young age she’d seen loved ones and friends die and kill. When she was old enough she’d swung a sword for her chieftain in defence of their lands and in raids on their enemies. She accepted it for what it was. Death came to all, young or old, good or bad.

  For Relf the event held a sense of disappointment, mostly in himself. He shared all of his companions' thoughts and struggles with it and he knew death as well. The Wayran desert was hostile to all and claimed lives daily. Yet this was a test for Relf, a turning point. People like Norrin and his wife now looked to those in Relf’s position to protect and help them and looked to the Corps to prevent these things. Relf couldn’t help but feel he’d failed them. For the first time in his life he was not only expected but outright needed to aid and protect others and he’d failed. Not because he didn’t try! He’d wanted to and had done his part dispatching the husks but he was bitter that it was too little and that they were too late.

  So they rode in silence, lost in their thoughts as the afternoon waned and the day left them. A few more hours brought the fort into sight. In the evening light it was squat and pathetic looking sitting in the hills and prairie. Constructed of timber though from where none of them could say as they hadn't seen a tree since leaving the farm. The palisade walls had a weathered look as if they’d been there forever, squat towers, little more than platforms sided the gate. A trench filled with sharpened stakes surrounded it on all sides with a defensible path to the gate.

  As the party came in sight of those walls the cry of a horn echoed in the air to signal of their arrival, a sign that they’d been seen. The gate was open before them and they entered the yard of the small fort in the middle of nowhere just a half day’s ride from the Dreadlands.

  The Corps maintained and manned several posts within the Grant. Scattered forts, towers and small keeps provided bases for patrols, stations for supply dumps and stables as well as contact points for the locals in need of help. Dav and his party entered the fort and as they dismounted were met there by an officer and two sergeants.

  “Welcome to Fort Last Stop. I’m Lieutenant Mathers. Sergeant Stills, and Sergeant Young” Indicating the man and woman accompanying him. Mathers was a squat yet burly dark man with a long flowing moustache that was almost comical. He had a pleasant demeanour though and one did not make the rank of Lieutenant without the ability to back it up. His Sergeants stood rigid beside him.

  “Good evening lieutenant. I am Dav Anthinsson. This is Sergeant Tanisin, also Anthinsson and his squad, corporals Relf, Willhem and Deliah.”

  “Well met all. You’d be the pilgrimage party I was told to expect. A bit later than I figured you’d be here.”

  “We ran into some weather the other day and this afternoon had an issue to deal with on the road. We’re here now though, and tired.”

  “Understandable.” Replied Mathers. “You can stable your animals there.” He indicated a low lean-to stable beside the gate. “Barracks over there and once you’ve stowed your gear and cleaned up, you and the Sergeant can join me in my quarters for a late dinner. Your corporals can get a meal in the mess over there.”

  “Our thanks Lieutenant.” Dav acknowledged.

  The five took their horses to the stable and got them settled. Each taking the time to unsaddle their mounts and take the packs off the packhorses, give them feed and brush them down before heading to the barracks. Fort Last Stop was as unimpressive inside as out. A standard square log palisade with towers at each corner. The stable, such as it was, lay along the south-west wall inside the gate. Latrines on the north-west wall. A barracks and mess hall along the eastern back wall with the Lieutenant's quarters kitty-cornered along the south wall. The weary group filed into the barracks. It was empty then, the bulk of the troopers were in the mess hall. All told two ten-squads occupied the fort though numbers varied as soldiers were sent on patrols or to deal with local issues. Finding a line of bunks that were readied for their arrival they deposited their gear. There were basins of water for washing along one wall and hooks beside the bunk line for hanging cloaks.

  “Willhem, take the rest to wash up and get some food from the mess. Me and Dav will join the Lieutenant.” Ordered Tanisin.

  “Yes Sir.” Willhem saluted somewhat mockingly though light-hearted. They hadn't stuck to military formality on the trip so far, but here under the oversight of the Lieutenant it seemed the best practice.

  “Let’s go see what the lieutenant is having for dinner shall we?” Dav suggested.

  The two cleaned up as best they could. This was to be a short stay so they didn’t bother changing clothes, just hung their travel stained cloaks on the wall and exited the barracks. They knocked on Lieutenant Mathers’ door and entered at a curt though friendly reply from the other side.

  The room inside was typically military, to call it quarters was misleading. It was one large space occupied by a bunk, a desk and a table with a few chairs around it. Mathers sat in one of them. At their entry then stood to welcome them.

  “Join me you two.” He gestured to the table and the spread on it. “It’s simple fare but filling and ample.”

  He sat as Dav and Tanisin joined him at the table. A roast and vegetables made a welcoming feast to them having subsided on road rations for the past three days. They dug into the food. The Lieutenant gave them time to fill plates and savour some before beginning.

  “I’ve had my scouts busy in the Dreadlands the last few days. I was told you’d need reporting on conditions ahead.”

  “Yes.” Dav swallowed before speaking. “We appreciate any information you can give us. First we must report on an encounter we had about a half day back.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Mathers made an annoyed face. “Husks I assume? They’ve been active this year.”

  “Active!” Tanisin interjected. “You could say that. We were approached on our way past the Thrain’s farmstead by Mrs. Thrain.”

  “Good people, The Thrain’s.” Mathers observed.

  “Yes they are or rather Norris Thrain was. He was bit before we arrived to help.

  “Despair!” The lieutenant exclaimed. “This’ll be hard on her. They lost a child last year and their oldest is serving.”

  “Yes, we were told. Norrin Thrain gave me this and asked me to hand it to you.” Tanisin dug out the parchment given to him and handed it to Mathers who unfolded the document and perused it before putting it aside.

  “We will notify Mrs. Thrain’s kin and send a message to command to locate their son. I’ll also send a few troopers to check on her tomorrow.” It was all that could be done regarding the Thrain’s.

  “I’d ask how it is that so many of the creatures made it this far out of the Dreadlands sir. How eight of them remained unobserved so close to this station?” Tanisin’s anger was palatable.

  “Easy soldier.” Mathers cautioned. “Like it or not it happens. I've only got so many soldiers and there’s only so many forts. Not nearly enough, there are more stations sitting empty than manned these days. We cannot be everywhere we’re needed. They’ve breached farther than that, quite often actually. I’ll remind you as well that some of my men were scouting ahead for you!”

  Reprimanded Tanisin thought back to their prior encounter with other Shamblers. His first , way back and many days travel beyond even the Citadel on the edge of the Westwood.

  “I’m sorry sir.” He apologised, and meant it. “My anger is due to the situation.”

  “Sayoshti’s blessing lad, be angry! Just ensure it’s directed at the right place is all.”

  The conversation brought Dav and Tanisin back to dwelling thoughts and how unfair the world could be. Especially when agents of Despair were involved. Noting their sour expressions and dejected demeanour Mathers continued.

  “The scout’s reports. We can’t patrol the whole of the Dreadlands you understand. It’s too large and we are too undermanned. We also don’t employ the Divine protection as one such as you Dav, what with the blessing and all. It takes a strong mind and the will to continue as you get deeper into it. My men rode three days in, stopping a day short of the Barrier.” He paused.

  “What can we expect between here and there?” Asked Dav.

  “For the first half day's ride, nothing really. It’s much the same as the Grant. You may encounter more husks as they’re more numerous all over the Dreadlands. After that though you’ll be in there proper and you’ll know it when it happens. You’ll feel it. In your mind and your very soul. It only gets worse the further you go.” He made a sign of warding in front of him. “Once in you’ll have to watch yourselves. There's no road, some paths but no road. Stick to the markers though, they are your best bet for finding your way. My scouts found nothing of concern. In fact they just returned a few hours before your arrival. For all the shambler activity reported in the Grant lately the Dreadlands are surprisingly quiet right now.”

  “Good news.” Tanisin declared.

  “I disagree.” Mathers was quick to reply. “If they aren’t there then they’re somewhere else and that means trouble for both the Corps and the people of the Grant. There's no good scenario with that. Even worse if they happen to be gathered somewhere along your way, sometimes when they make a kill it attracts all the vile things from miles away.”

  “Sorry Lieutenant. I meant good news for us anyway.” Tanisin apologised.

  “Still, be wary. There’s more than just husks in the Dreadlands, and almost everything is deadly. You’ll find once within that the air is dry, it can be cold or hot, there's no rational means to the temperature as far as anyone knows. There’s little plant life and most of it is poisonous. Watch out in particular for deathvyne. It’s easy to miss and even just a small patch of it will kill you. It’s a thick vine that creeps along trails and open spaces, its thorns will penetrate your boots, it lashes out when stepped upon and it will instantly paralyze a man or even a horse. While you're frozen still it will envelop your whole body to feed. Other than that don’t hunt any of the deer or bison you see, none are fit to eat. How they survive out there is beyond anyone. And for Sayoshti’s sake DO NOT drink the water!”

  “Sounds like anything would struggle to live there.” Dav opined. The more he heard the more he worried about their chances.

  “It’s a land corrupted by Despair. You will want to watch out for the Cult as well. They’re mostly harmless, and crazy the whole lot of them but they have been known to cause trouble. They usually avoid conflict or armed parties.”

  “The Cult?” Tanisin was curious about this. He knew of The Cult, everyone did but he’d never heard of them wandering the Dreadlands before.

  “Yes. Followers of the Inevitable they call themselves. Human worshipers of Despair. They are convinced his reign over Etrusia is inevitable in the end and their doctrine is if it can’t be avoided it should be embraced. Pure insanity in my opinion.”

  “And they live in the Dreadlands?” Dav was incredulous. What kind of person would willingly embrace Despair, even worse would choose to be in the Dreadlands?

  “Some do.” Mathers answered. “They have this idea that doing a pilgrimage of their own will bring them closer to Despair. Some make it in and back out, more don’t and go even more insane than they were before they tried. Some that survive in the Dreadlands are usually so crazy that they can’t tell reality from hallucination.”

  “I simply… It’s insane.” Remarked Dav.

  “Wrap your head around it. They are there, though unlikely to molest you. Best to avoid them if you see any. They tend to magnify Despair’s Influence upon others.”

  Both Dav and Tanisin gave a shiver at this revelation. Mathers continued to list the various ways the Dreadlands could kill, each as shocking as the last. Besides the plant life there were beasts as well. Twisted versions of common animals contaminated by Despair’s influence. The shamblers of course, but many other creatures that would attack their party on sight with little to no regard for their own well being. The most lethal being Dreadwolves. Most of the animal life was corrupted to the point of madness and even docile creatures would attack a man.

  Last and most difficult to deal with was the shudder. The shudder was what the Church called the psychological effect of exposure to the Dreadlands. A manifestation of Despair’s influence on the minds of mortal men. It affects everyone. Voices, inane dark ramblings, intrusive thoughts. Physical illness was almost always involved and even with Sayoshti’s Blessing upon them their group would have trouble eating or keeping food down. The effect was incessant and continuous and over time will drive a human to madness. When this happened their body would shudder non stop with uncontrollable shakes. Once the madness gained hold men would become violent, attacking friends and companions. Some ran insane into the depths of the Dreadlands never to be seen again. Efforts had been made in times past to help these individuals when afflicted. They were restrained and returned to the Citadel for study. To date none had ever recovered in centuries of trying. It was for this reason that the Corps made their forays into the Dreadlands a case of necessity only and they always kept them short.

  This information, while valuable, was overwhelming to the two. The scope of what lay before them was worrisome. Nonetheless they were as prepared as they could be. It was a fundamental step for every young acolyte on their path, one that had to be taken. What’s more it was a source of pride for those in the Corps who’d made the trip.

  Tanisin and Dav continued their meal with lieutenant Mathers. Making small talk of their journey so far, their experiences at the Citadel. He seemed impressed with both Dav’s rapid ascension and Tanisin’s turnaround with Anders.

  “He’s a tough one for sure. Not kind to fools or bullies, but he knows his work and can judge a recruit’s abilities like no one else.” Mathers interjected.

  “Well, he certainly showed me I wasn’t as good as I’d thought.” Tanisin admitted. The event and his shame still stung these many months later.

  The evening grew to full night as the trio conversed. It came time to leave Mathers and brief their squad on what they’d face on the morrow. Dav and Tanisin said their goodbyes and went to find their friends.

  Outside the darkness of night had settled over the land. From some distance away the dark figure watched the outpost. It had followed the party since their departure from the Thrains’ farmstead. It dare not approach too close lest it ruin its master’s plans. The time was not yet ripe to reveal itself. The creature had no problem observing the two young men as they exited the building and made their way across the yard. Generations of selective breeding and a life vastly longer than its prey’s, a lifetime spent in the eternal darkness of Despair’s Abyss, had formed it into the perfect night creature. Its mission now was to observe and report, and only under very specific conditions was it to make itself known.