The three companions continued their horse-drawn adventure as the fog dimmed around them. Evening leered its predatory presence at them as Barrel’s visual acuity lessened with every passing minute. But the tracks were getting fresher- what little they could see of them. Without Asrael’s guidance, however, they would be impossible to follow much further. Barrel knew of Neda’s determination- he had seen the stubborn girl stare down even their frightening Master, but the night shrouded far more dangerous beings than Asrael. Without the protection of his undead, traversing the mists was nothing short of a horrendously bad idea, yet there they were, blindly fumbling about the muddy road as if they knew what they were doing.

Barrel was about to make an unwelcomed suggestion they stop for the night, when a shout sounded from further down the white carpet of fog.

A long, drawn-out “Ahoy!” called the horses to a halt. Neda thought at first that Asrael had come to meet them, only to be disappointed as she rose up and knocked the umbrella from Kester’s hand to see a far burlier shape out in the white shroud.

The man approached to suffer the scrutinous, red glares of the horses and the wildling. From up-close, Neda could see that he was young- twenty, at most, and with a deep, rugged scar down his left cheek. It only took her a moment to see the sword strapped to his left hip, but Barrel was swift to speak in her place: “We dun’ want ‘ny trouble, fren. We ain’t got nuthin’ fer yous.”

The young man carried himself with confidence, as his light leather boots slapped against the mud. The cloak covering his leather armor was sewn from some mysterious material that seemed to repel the water and left him dry- for the most part. Still, the lengthy dark hair hung over his eyes to conceal the apparent bemusement his grin conveyed as he spoke: “You’ve picked a shitty day for an outing- especially with gear like yours.” He raised his hand to touch the face of the frontmost horse on the left, only for the beast to bite for him. He chuckled as he took a step backwards to dodge the vicious lunge.

“I wudn’t recommend touchin’ ‘em. We’re-” As the man recovered, he naturally lay his eyes on the beauty with her arms crossed atop the carriage- glaring down at him with an impatient tapping of her foot. Upon seeing her, he dramatically reached for his chest and spoke:

“Oh, my, what have we here?” He asked, as he passed by the small, fat man and the horses to look up at the grumpy blightlander. Her tan skin seemed dark in the dim illumination- as did her usually vibrant, sun-bleached hair. But her eyes- those red, furious bulbs could still be seen with perfect clarity. She remained demonstratively silent- allowing him to mire in the mist rolling over her shapely body, before finally, she spoke:

“None of your business. Fuck off. Barrel! Keep going, we’ve gotta find him!” The young man leapt back and threateningly glanced at Barrel as he tapped the hilt of his blade demonstratively and cleared his throat.

“Now, now... there’s no reason to be hasty. It’s almost dark, miss. You don’t want to be out in the mist when darkness-”

“Barrel! Go!” Neda shouted and stomped her right foot on the rim of the carriage, over the plea of the displeased man. This, finally, broke the last straw of his patience and had him whistle over his shoulder. Before Barrel could animate the horses into action, several sets of feet could be heard squishing against the mud as the man’s unsavory colleagues made their presence known by stepping into the companionship’s line of sight.

Kester rose up to hold the umbrella over Neda’s head and scan the six shapes surrounding the cart with the same, frightening, uncaring apathy that had frightened his wife enough to abandon him. The young man currently straining his neck to see through Neda’s white dress was, however, far too occupied by her beauty to notice the fearsome tavernkeeper as he measured their odds.

Neda cleared her throat and demanded once more: “Let us go! I won’t say it again- I'll kill all of you!” Barrel’s hands tightened on the leather reins before he turned his head to look up at the fierce blightlander. He sighed with momentary respite as the highwayman laughed aloud and clapped his knee mockingly.

“She’s feisty, too! Y’hear that, boys? She’s gonna kill us- all alone. Or is your boyfriend up there gonna join you?” The rest of the obscured men joined him in his mocking laughter as they closed in around the cart.

Neda’s feet clapped against the mud as she landed next to the cart and straightened her back to glare at the man. “Last chance, asshole. And he’s not my boyfriend. But you’re blocking the way to get to my boyfriend.” Her red eyes seethed with rage from between the narrow slits of her eyelids.

He licked his lips as he looked to the transparent cloth on her chest and spoke: “Now, why’d your man leave you out here? There’s dangerous people-” While he spoke, he made the mistake of raising his hand to touch the wildling girl’s cheek. Before his cold fingers could touch her skin, he saw her eyes widen with fleeting rage.

A swift, smooth movement of her arms preceded a jerk of her form. Kester had yet to see Neda’s mastery of the knives and he found the sight of her swift movement and the resulting, bloody scene to his liking. From the back of her dress, she had procured the blades and proceeded to sink both tips into either side of his neck- spraying herself with the sticky droplets of his refreshingly, warm blood.

It had been years since last Barrel had been assaulted by highwaymen, yet his hands moved with the same, swift precision as they had back in his youthful days. With a jerk of his hand, he pulled on the right strap- loosening the straps of the intricate, self-tailored system of pulleys to instantaneously free the horses. He hissed a command out into the fog and before the first of the robbers had drawn their blades, the beasts were upon them. One bit cleanly into the face of one of the men- crushing bones and tearing flesh to leave little but an oozing crater of bone, blood and a wildly flapping tongue. Before Kester had dropped from the cart, the horses had already killed three of the assaulting party and Neda had pulled the bloody daggers from the fourth’s neck- leaving two more.

Kester was quick to drop down and take the rusted, short, straight blade from Neda’s felled opponent, just in time to raise it and block another blade that might’ve decapitated the blightlander, had he only been a tad slower.

Neda leapt back as Kester’s blade collided with the assailant’s- spraying the air with embers of rusted metal. She spun her daggers over on her palms and lunged forwards- burying the sharp tips into the highwayman’s chest- through his heavy, leather armor, before he could rear back to swing again.

The remaining bandit watched as the last of his companions was felled by the scrumptious blightlander and the unnerving, half-naked man. Ahead of him, the horses were consuming the corpses of his colleagues- eating their faces with malicious glee.

“H-help! They’re fucking crazy!” He screamed out into the swirling fog. His knees tremored as all the horses’ red eyes locked onto him. He took a step backwards and tripped over a rock- landing him face-up in the mud, where he scuttled to get away from the dark-eyed psychopath and his murderous, blade-spinning, displeased comrade. Neda’s white dress was covered in cooling blood, further enhancing his terror- coupled with the sight of her deft hands, he could feel his body’s urges to wet himself grow stronger with her every step forwards.

“Neda...” Kester warned and lay a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Before she could brush him off, she saw what he had intended to warn her of- out there, in the fog.

“Where you at!?” One of the ten shapes ahead shouted through the mist.

“H-Here, Gods almighty, they are insane!” Neda’s red eyes scanned the dark outlines in the white shroud. As much as she had enjoyed displaying her skills, she doubted even their joint efforts could save them from the overwhelming numbers. She muttered a “Well, fuck.” as she saw them fumble onwards- towards their terrorized companion in the mud.

The magnificent, bloodthirsty beasts stepped in between Neda and the shadows. One- Neda's new favorite horse, slammed a hoof onto the oppressed man’s face- crushing his head to a mess of pulped cerebral matter and shards of sharp bone.

Neda was steeling herself for battle, when she noticed that something was-… off... in the atmosphere. Her wet hair seemed to crackle with life- clinging to her bloody dress. The air felt suffocatingly heavy and a distinct, static hiss could be heard from the periphery of their perimeter.

Neda screamed as the world exploded in a white, bright light and with a sonic boom to knock even the horses off their feet.

Kester, Barrel and Neda all toppled over to the mud, where they simultaneously scrambled to gain enough footing to rise back up again. The air was markably lighter following the sight-depriving explosion of white, but an unnerving scent of unmistakably scorched flesh hung heavy in the atmosphere.

Their ears screeched- their retinas struggled to recover from the phototoxic exposure to what appeared to have been... lightning.

In the midst of the screeching, the party could hear the squishing of several pairs of boots coming in from the front- in the direction of where the small army had glared over at them. To Neda’s surprise and relief, the fog had thinned for her to see the odd, robe-clad trio standing amidst the scorched bodies of their would-be assailants.

The man at the front was nothing short of breathtakingly handsome. He carried his long, black hair in a tail at the back of his head, his chiseled chin was covered in a slight stubble, his expressive, green eyes conveyed a kindness all too rare in the world she had grown to know. His long, black robes seemed dry as he effortlessly made his way over the mud- followed closely by a beautiful, dark-skinned woman.

Her eyes were the same shade of green as his were, but her dark skin served to enhance the contrast of her irises. Her skin was almost unnaturally smooth around her thick, luscious, smiling lips. She stepped over the smoldering husk of what had once been a man and kept the red umbrella over her head to shield her black dress from the drizzle.

Behind the pair, a male Purged carried his head high in a white robe with red drawings of unpowered runes after his dark companions.

Despite being charmed by the man’s good looks, Neda readied herself for a new battle as the handsome being extended a pale palm towards her and smiled.