Arnim had told his roommates of his plans to leave Bariston for Shimmer town the next day. They understood and gave him a small party with enough alcohol to knock them out. He only had a few glasses of wine himself savoring his minor indulgence. The former nobles rations consisted of potatoes and beans stored in a well tooled backpack that had his bedroll lashed on top. He had sworn off meat as part of his religious cleansing he did miss it, but it further reduced the need to kill.

He set out around nine in the morning for the local stable. The owner was an elderly woman that haggled well and honestly. Arnim settled on a gray stallion with a large patch of white on its stomach. He named the warhorse Mist and took his new mount outside and loaded the feed he purchased as well in the saddlebags. The young smith rode off to the ferry that would take him and his new partner across the water to the nearby shore that led to the rest of Elved.

The eldest Gulwin rode into the countryside following the road. Eventually his path would reach a commonly used ford across the river that split Elved. That was several hundred miles in the future. He rode along the empty road all day without seeing anything but marshland. Arnim knew given all the recent trouble travel was uncommon for most. He found a nice dry patch to make camp it set about finding some dry wood. Winter was far too cold to go without a warm fire, his thick gray cloak could only help some.

Arnim removed the horses saddle and tack and gave him a rub down with his coarse brush. Then the feed bag was hooked on while the human went out to seek burnable material. Dead wood was easy enough to find scattered about, the trick was finding dry pieces. After a few hours he returned with enough fuel to do him for the night. Whatever was left in the morning would be tied to his saddlebags. Once the fire was blazing the man let the warmth seep into his bones and had a dinner of boiled potato pieces. His war mount was tied to the closest tree to the heat. The wind mercifully kept the smoke away from them both.


The morning came without any night troubles, however someone was looking thru his pack causing him to wake early. "Not a wise choice man, asking is a much more effective way to get help." The human thief looked about sixteen with black hair and brown eyes. The young man jumped in fear dropping the poorly made dagger he wielded.

Arnim stood unarmed and smiled showing his empty hands to his guest. "See, no harm meant, unless you intend to cause me some. I'm Arnim Gulwin, my horse over their is Mist. Care to share your name."

The youth took in the man that faced him with his massive arms and compared his own that were half their size. "Timothy is my name ah... sir I just want some food. I've been lost for several days."

Arnim walked over to him and shook his hand briskly. "A pleasure to meet you Timothy. Where might your home be lad?"

"South Bariston, but I don't even know how far away it is." The guest was given some beans after answering the question which he accepted gratefully.

The smith spoke his next words with a kind tone. "The roads two miles north of our current position I'll show you some easy foraging methods as well. I can take you home I'm sure your family is searching for you."

The youth spoke with confusion in his words. "Why? We just met, you don't even know me."

"Aye that's true, but I believe fate works in mysterious ways. Not to mention you could have slit my throat while I slept or refused to listen to me. Come along, time is passing and we have work to do before nightfall." Timothy took in everything he was told and decided he was lucky Arnim came along when he did. His mother would say Galenous had answered her prayers. Maybe his savior could stop the bandits that kidnapped him. The strange bite on his shoulder began to itch like crazy.

South Bariston, a destination not far from Arnim and the youth he had just met, Timothy. Though Timothy had been helplessly lost, home was close by and it seemed that Arnim would be his humble guide. It may have been luck on Timothy's side at the very moment he met Arnim. However, at the turn of their short journey back to Bariston, something unexpected had happened on the trip. After all, there is a saying that trouble strikes when one is closest to home.

The signs were slight at first - a few dried pools of crimson color soaking the earth about a mile and a half outside South Bariston. As the two traveling men drew a few feet closer towards the city, there was a sudden overwhelming amount of red before them. Blood soaked the ground and if one of them dared to kneel down and run fingers across the grass and soil, they would realize that earth was still moist and the blood fresh.

Scattered on top of the bloody scene was several bodies, or what was left of them. Pieces of what was once human were strewn about - arms, legs, a torso and even a mangled face. Though not one body could be pieced together, it was evident that at least four people had been slaughtered. But by what? One thing was for certain though. The people that had been killed were not sliced and cut up by any sort of blades. They were ripped and shredded as if by teeth - very strong animalistic teeth.