The crackle of a campfire filled his senses as Scott looked up at the darkening Ha' Ruulian sky. Several hours of wandering had led him nowhere near any sort of forest. Whether he would face any skeletal drudges in the coming night, did not influence his thoughts. No, what concerned him was the lack of progress toward his goal.

"Hyah..." he mumbled softly while he contemplated the truth of his situation. So far, he had no found the edge of the boundary. The quarantine zone was undoubtedly large compared to his experience on Dead Men Walking. Suitably sized for a heroic adventure, no doubt, but it did leave him concerned. There was no conveniently supplied map for this mission, at least none that he had discovered.

A simple meal of beans and franks cooked over a campfire served to fill his belly. "Hurryp," he muttered in annoyance. It would be the perfect time to begin a training regimen to further increase his physical stats, but he had no idea how strong his enemies would be. If he exhausted himself now, it could spell disaster in the future. Training would have to wait until he actually discovered the forest, or at least found his way to someone who could point him along the right path.

The last rays of twilight passed from the world, and true night settled upon the land. For quite some time nothing happened save for the atmospheric background music becoming more sedate, somber in truth. It was perfect music to dream by, if he could voice the opinion.

Just as he started to drift off to sleep due to boredom, a soft dry whisper reached his ears. Hearing enhanced beyond that of a normal man, only his currently half-aware state prevented him from immediately pin-pointing its origin. A second whisper, dry and rattling, barely reached his ears.

Laughter, somehow both tittering and harsh, reached his ears. "A morsel has lit the way for us..."

The creak and rattle of bones came to him then, and a slight smile rose upon his lips. It seemed that he had visitors.

Scott waited quietly, until the sound of creaking bones had risen to the point that he knew his visitors to be right behind him.

Studiously, he closed his eyes and kept them closed until the last possible moment. A dull rusted sword slashed harshly through the air seeking his neck. It never got close. Almost the instant that the sword moved, he threw himself sideways and then rolled to his feet.

"Wah?" cried the skeleton.

"Surprise motherfuckers!" Scott tried to shout. Of course, it came out as, "Hoo-yah! Yah!"

The skeletal drudge and his three friends were more or less what Scott had expected. They were bipedal skeletons, slightly cartoonish in design. Their heads were slightly larger than they should be, and they were somewhat shorter than one would expect.

"The morsel! It escapes!" rattled a skeletal drudge loudly from nearby.

Escape? Scott sniggered derisively then launched forward with a flash of his blade. The drudge's sword was currently stuck in the bark of the tree, it released its forsaken weapon just in time to try and block the incoming attack. The enchanted blade forged with spiritual power inherent in the metal produced a small flash of light as it cut down into the monster's arms with bone shattering force.

Splinters of bleached white bone flew outward as the drudge's defenses were torn away. The follow-up strike, a rising diagonal slash ripped its clattering jaw from its skull and tore a terrible gouge in its cranium.

This feeling! Scott's eyes widened in nigh-euphoric joy. "Yah!" he cried passionately even as he launched forward in a shoulder-block that smashed the drudge against the tree that it sought to use as a backdrop to its night-time murder.

The entire exchange took slightly under two seconds, but by that time the other drudges had trotted closer. Swords flew in at him from two directions, but Scott countered both easily. One was redirected with his blade while his enhanced coordination, reflexes, and basic understanding of sword dynamics allowed him to slap the other blade upward upon its flat surface.

With a wild laugh of joy, he spun to the right then slash downward passionately. The skeletal drudge's ribcage exploded into a shower of bone splinters and it fell to the ground.

"Monster!" shrieked one of the drudges, before it also laughed in a haunting manner.

Scott dodged backwards from an incoming sword strike then grinned and launched himself forward into a double drop-kick that hit the attacked drudge with enough force to send its low-weight body flying back dozens of feet to slam against another nearby tree.

The battle, such as it was, ended abruptly not long after as Scott made short work of the remaining drudges now that only one was upright.

"Done in by a morsel! Gyahaha!" laughed the drudge just before Scott's foot slammed down atop its pure-white skull. It shattered in spectacular and satisfying manner.

The bodies dissipated not long after, but only one of them left behind a little crystal. There was no other loot.

Scott grinned. Chaine had been right. These things were absurdly easy to handle.

"Hoo!" he cried happily. It was impossible to know whether it was purely his own thoughts, or the small amount of Ferakai blood singing in his veins, but crushing those drudges so soundly had been damned satisfying. After the battle with Waldo, this mission was exactly what he needed.

Throughout the night he remained awake, and battled two more small waves of drudges. Seven in total, two had even dropped crystals.

Fire banked, and camp packed up, Scott set out into the early dawn. His lack of sleep and light exercise did not impact him in the slightest due to his stats, though he would need to sleep within the next day or two.

The only thing that concerned him was the fact that he had no idea if those grudges counted toward his goal. There had been no message, or anything, that spoke of his accomplishment.

A few hours later, he rejoiced vocally when he reached an actual road. "Yah!" he cried with enthusiasm.

Scott looked one way, and then the other. A joyful smile on his lips, he shrugged and then turned to his left. One way was as good as another. At some point he would reach the edge of the quarantine zone, a town, or at least a road sign.

The background music shifted to a tune suitable for traveling the open road, with a combination of orchestral background and quirky whistling.

"Hya..." said Scott with a nod of the head. Nice!

The sun rose high in the sky before the still-enthusiastic traveler happened upon his first sign of life that did not include combat. A fat man with the face of a catfish sat on the side of the road. He dabbed sweat from his forehead with a towel then yawned expansively.

"Hya," said Scott excitedly as he walked up on the fish man.

"Hiya, to you as well traveler," said the fish man. He then sighed promptly and shook his head.

Scott tilted his head to the side. "Ehya?"

"Ah, my troubles?" asked the man as though he understood Scott's intent. Of course, it was also quite possible that he merely had an excuse to relate his problems to another person and ran with it.

Scott nodded to him. Yes. By all means. He certainly did wish to know of the secret plight of a random fish man who sat on the side of the road.

"Ah, traveler. I hate to burden you with my concerns, but it is my daughter you see." The fish man looked to Scott to see if he truly seemed interested.

"Wah?" asked Scott, as he nodded to his new associate.

The fish man sighed languidly then said, "She has run off to the whispering wood to live in the fairy pond. Says, I'm a doddering old fool who doesn't understand her."

"Eyah?" asked Scott.

"Right? Of course, she's young and impressionable. Head full of the old love songs about heroes and princesses." The fish man sighed once more. "My own fault, really. I'm the one who told her the stories and sang them to her..."

He then struggled to get to his feet. His overly large gut made the process difficult, so Scott reached over and helped him up with quiet, and confident, strength.

"Say, you're quite the strong one to lift old Goonta to his feet..." The cat-fish headed man leaned left and right for a moment while he peered thoughtfully at Scott's face. "Not bad looking for whatever you are, either... Never seen a round-eared Ha' Ruulian..."

"Eh-Eyah?" asked Scott nervously. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead as the cat-fish man leaned forwardly to further inspect him. Where exactly did this fish-man mean to take this conversation?

"Yes. High cheekbones, classic heroic good looks. Hmm. Hmm?" asked the fish-man. He reached out and squeezed Scott's bulging bicep then nodded. "Firm meat... Oh, yes. You'll do splendidly."

"Wah!" exclaimed Scott as he snatched his arm back.

"Now, now! There's no need for that, my exotic foreign hero prince!" Ahoo-hoo!" cried the cat-fish man in a laughing tone.

Scott's eyes widened absurdly. What exactly did this fat flounder of a catfish intend? The fish-headed man's good-natured hooting laughter echoed through the grassland as Scott threw up his hands and waived them around emphatically.

"Well, if you don't want to help me you could just say so," said the fish man with a sigh.

Of course, he did not want to be this weird fish-dude's exotic prince! What kind of request was that? He tried to express his disinterest, but when he tried to shout out 'no' it came out as "Yah!"

"Wonderful!" cried the fish-man. He grabbed Scott's hand and started forward with him. Scott nearly snatched his hand back from the fat grabby fish, but before he could the fish-man announced something that silenced him immediately.

"Let's get you to town, so we can clean you up a bit. Then it's off to the Whispering Wood to find my wayward daughter!" The fish-man suddenly found that he no longer needed to drag Scott along. He blinked his oversized eyes briefly then looked over at the man he had grabbed on the road. Instead of reluctant recalcitrance, he actively walked ahead a bit and even seemed to be pulling him along now.

"My word..." said the fish-man with a laugh. Fat fish, and classically good-looking exotic hero prince, the duo strode hand in hand down the road.

"Fe-yah!" cried Scott happily, his smile on his lips once more. Surely, he could indulge the grabby fish for a little while.

Noticing the strength of his exotic prince's grip, and the fact he only spoke single word sentences, the fish-man nodded. "Strong silent type..." he whispered, "Perfect!"

Scott saw a butterfly the size of his hand and pointed at it. "Yah-yah!"

"Now if only I spoke his language," mumbled the fish-man as he watched Scott wave happily to the little fluttering insect. He seemed to be a good-natured sort, however. In the end, what was a language barrier but an excuse not to communicate?