Follow me.

***Garv***

Garv hobbled free of the wood-line and into the open. Using his battle axe as an impromptu walking stick. The wind ruffled his fur pleasantly, he opened his mouth wide to help himself cool down.

He felt like a new man.

He took in a deep breath.

"O-ow." he winced, clutching his ribs.

He decided against doing it again.

Still, the cool spring air was refreshing. Now he just had to put as much distance as he could between himself and that monster.

Just the thought of those glowing eyes gave him chills up his spine!

But what would he do now? What purpose could he serve?

He wasn't sure, he had every intention of living up to his promise to Fenrir. He was determined to be a good guy from now on. Someone his mother could be proud of. He was sure something would turn up. Maybe he could even be a hero? Fighting villain's and crime! Stories of his heroism could be told by parents to their children! He might even get books written about him! Maybe even a statue or two!

He allowed himself a smile as the daydream took hold. It was something to work towards at least.

'I should write Mum a letter.' he smiled to himself.

Well standing here by the woods wasn't going to change anything. He decided to head back towards the junction where they tried to capture that sleeping Felinian. If his memory of the area was correct he could use the other path to head back to the northeast and eventually round to the main road to Javos. Without straying too close to the town.

He would have a lot of explaining to do if he turned up there. People would be very angry with him, very angry indeed!

He would get shouted at something awful!

He hated that sort of thing.

"Definitely not going back there." Garv grumbled to himself with a nod. Committing to avoiding Fenniton at all costs.

He started making his way across the grass to the road.

He felt bad about Magar.

They had been companions for several years; they had spent a lot of time together. Magar was a strict man, Garv had been on the receiving end of more than one of his tongue-lashings. But he still considered him his friend.

Surely that monster had got him.

Garv sighed dejectedly at the thought.

"Poor Boss." he muttered to himself as he made it to the road.

There was no helping it he supposed. He tried to reassure himself that there would have been nothing he could do, even if he had run back to the camp.

There was no doubt in his mind as to what the result of that would be.

He meandered along the dirt road for some time, perhaps an hour, he wasn't sure. He had started feeling slightly deflated as the pain in his ribs chipped away at his morale.

Then he noticed the tell-tale smell, of eggs being cooked.

He stopped for a second, getting a good whiff of the air. It was definitely eggs. No doubt about it. Somebody was cooking further down the road and by the smell of things, they were just about ready to eat!

But who could be cooking eggs at this time of night?

More importantly, would they share?

Garv supposed it could be an enemy. That could be a problem.

He considered his options for a moment, salivating as he did so.

Before concluding; he didn't give a frog's ass! He was hungry. There was food.

'Let's. Go. To. The. Food.' his baser instincts commanded him. He didn't feel like arguing.

He was a good guy now. People didn't mind feeding good guys.

He swiftly hobbled down the track with renewed vigour! Throwing caution to the wind as his tongue lolled lazily out the side of his mouth.

The road slowly turned to the right before heading downhill to what sounded like a stream. By Garv's prediction, whoever was cooking was doing so at exactly the same junction as the one he was heading to.

What luck!

He could just about make out the glow of a fire around the bend. The smell of eggs was much stronger now.

He increased his pace significantly.

Rounding the bend, he saw the makeshift fire and a shadowy figure sitting next to it with his back to him. A small basket was placed off to the side.

But Garv didn't care about that!

The eggs were being cooked on a flat stone placed atop the fire, their golden deliciousness simmering in the campfires glow.

He hurried forward to introduce himself, he could feel his stomach rumbling with expectation!

He was close enough to feel the heat from the fire now, the shadowy figure started to turn.

Garv suddenly smelled another familiar scent, under the overpowering waft of eggs.

This guy smelled just like Magar.

Fantastic! Magar would surely feed him. They were friends after all!

Hang on a second!

"Magar!?"

***Oswald***

Oswald and his three companions shuffled their way along the treeline in the darkness.

They were on the western edge of the Drakewoods by the river. They were following the river upstream and were almost within sight of the southwestern town wall.

As per Boot's instructions, they were heading to the water gate.

Oswald still couldn't quite believe the plan that Boots had proposed earlier.

The thought of it brought a smile to his face.

It was a brilliant plan.

But cold adrenaline started pumping through his veins just thinking about how easily it could go wrong. They were balancing on a knifes edge.

But he just needed to focus on this first step. After that, his role would get significantly easier.

Himself, Roman, Simeon and Arthur, were to infiltrate the water-gate using any means necessary and to get Arthur to the main gate mechanism.

Arthur was an engineer, his normal job mainly involved fixing windmills. He was of average height and build for a man of middling years, he wore a pair of bronze rimmed spectacles. He carried with him a makeshift tool bag that they had cobbled together from what they could find in the camp. But he had a good understanding of mechanics and was certain that he could do what Boots had proposed with the gate mechanism.

All Oswald had to do was get him where he needed to be.

Their first issue would be the water-gate itself. Although it was unlikely to be closed, it would almost certainly be guarded inside. The small dock that surrounded the water inlet likely had many supplies stacked up on it, ready to be shipped off tomorrow.

Even a rowdy, ill-disciplined bunch like the crusaders would leave a guard posted next to such a haul.

The western wall slowly started to peer into view from behind the trees. Oswald gulped nervously at its domineering presence.

It was strange how different something like a wall could look, knowing that it protects your enemies.

He really hoped he wouldn't have to climb it.

They slowed their pace and ducked further into the treeline. Oswald followed along behind the sure-footed Roman.

'He almost seems to be enjoying this.' Oswald thought to himself.

Roman and Simeon definitely seemed more comfortable in this sort of environment than Oswald or Arthur was.

Oswald supposed that came with the territory. Fenniton's town guard clearly took their training very seriously.

As they approached the Northern edge of the tree line, the wall fully revealed itself to them. The edge of the water-gate to the west could just about be recognised. Although they'd have to get closer to see through it.

Roman held up his paw to signal them to stop, before edging slowly forward through the foliage to get a good look at the wall.

They had been given explicit instructions to stop, wait and assess the area before making a move. They had to be certain they wouldn't raise any alarms. If the Crusaders uncovered their plot this early, the mission would be a total failure.

They had to take their time.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity. Searching the battlements for any sign of movement, but none could be seen.

They were in luck, it seemed the commander of the Crusaders didn't feel the need to man the walls.

Boots had mentioned this might be the case earlier. The enemy commander is not expecting any resistance, as subjugating a town could hardly be classed as warfare. No army was coming to retake the town, so he had relaxed his standards, or simply didn't care. Either way, it was good news for Oswald's team.

Roman beckoned them to follow him and they made a quick dash to the bottom of the wall. In single file they crept around its edge.

The growing sound of rushing water alerted Oswald to their proximity to the gate. He felt his heart rate accelerating, he could hear it beating in his head.

They slowed their pace even further as the edge of the gate came into view. They finally stopped just a few metres short, and Oswald made his way to the front of the line.

Due to his affinity with dark magic, he had quite good night vision, his powers were also amplified. Although he wasn't quite masterful enough in his art to fully make use of the advantages the night brought him.

That would come with time.

He creeped forward to the corner and peered deeply into the darkness.

The rushing water was just a metre to his left as he looked through the gate. There was a narrow footpath that ran along both edges of the gate's interior and out into the water inlet. The inlet was a large oval shaped bowl full of water. It was wide enough for a barge to easily turn around in. Along the far side of the inlet there was a dock that ran its length. Either side of the dock was a path that ran around the outside of the inlet and connected to both sides of the gate. There was a wide array of crates, barrels, stacks of wood and covered piles of produce scattered all across the dock, ready to be transported.

Oswald's heart sank however, when his eyes were drawn to what was standing on the dock. A small huddle of soldiers, at least five of them. Stood around a barrel with a lantern perched on top of it.

They did seem rather preoccupied however, with drinking and boisterous conversation.

'Another example of the Crusaders not taking their job seriously.' Oswald thought with a grim smile, pulling himself back from the corner to relay the news to his party.

"There are at least five guards, stood in a huddle on the dock, talking and drinking. I didn't see anyone else." Oswald whispered to Roman.

"Hmmm," Roman considered for a moment, "no way to sneak by them?"

"The only way I think we can do it, is if I cast a shadow of darkness upon us." Oswald said nervously.

It wasn't a spell he'd had much success with in the past. He could cast it, but not to Lucia's standard. Although nothing ever was.

It involved darkening the area around the caster, during the day it would stand out quite clearly, unless being used in an already dark or shaded area. It was most useful at night; however, an observant person would be able to notice an ominous dark patch moving around their vision. Eyes were attracted to movement, so this spell required patience. It also had the effect of obscuring your own vision, so he would have a difficult time telling whether or not the soldiers were starting to notice something odd. Oswald was banking on the fact that they were already pre-occupied.

After explaining the risks to Roman, he waited for his response.

"Hmm," Roman started, "If you think it's the only way kid, then I trust you." Roman gave him a pat on the back and a reassuring nod.

"What do you need us to do?" Simeon asked quietly.

"I need to be at the front, stay close behind me. There are a few large piles of wood on the right-hand side of the dock. Once we get to them, I will cancel the spell, we should be out of sight. We have to move slow, or it will be too obvious, and they'll probably spot us."

"We're ready when you are?" Roman said with a hand on Oswald's shoulder.

Oswald simply nodded, muttering words of power quietly under his breath.

A black cloud slowly trickled from his fingertips, billowing out slowly into the air.

He carefully manipulated it with his fingers and brought it slowly to the corner of the gate.

He took a deep breath.

"Follow me."