With the dwindling light, it became increasingly difficult for Astor to distinguish the faint figures on his map. Gripped with frustration, Astor allotted himself a quick break and scanned around for nearby landmarks.

"Right before this bend, there should be a....." Astor turned around to see that there were no one else besides him. He'd often scouted a few paces ahead of the group in order to catch the brief patches of sunlight that would shine through the thick treetops above, but this time, it seemed that he had wondered ahead much further than he had expected. Brushing off his sudden embarrassment, Astor continued along the path. As he turned a corner, he saw, to his surprise, two, magnificent yew trees. With their combined height, each standing at least ten times his own height, they had blocked out the reoccurring mountainous background that he had become accustomed with. In between the two diverging giants continued the path, making it seem as if there had once been a larger, singular tree before a split in the middle occurred. As he approached the looming silhouettes, he noticed that the lower portion of the tree branches was riddled with a variety of debris. Walking closer in between the trunks, Astor spotted a sign. With what little light remained, he was able to make out the darkened text. The dead may not rest, for the living had forsaken their sacrifice. There was an insignia of a slithering snake on the bottom of the sign, the mark of the brotherhood. After analyzing the desecration, Astor leaned on one of the sloping columns and began to think. Are we supposed to clean this up? The poisonous, thick foliage of the twisting branches seemed reluctant in releasing its hold over the items and some were flung so far above from where he was that he was starting to wonder if such efforts were even worth it. Undeterred by the complications, Astor straightened himself up and began plucking off the various metal blades and armor straps that embedded themselves into the branches. It wasn't long before his frustrations began to mount. Some of the straps of the various armor parts were abnormally difficult to remove and with the light dimming, Astor was soon left to blindly tugging at the shadows of the thick vegetation. To his relief, it wasn't long before he heard some footsteps approach him from behind. "I might need some help with this. We can..." Astor turned and was startled to see that it was not any one of his teammates that was standing there but a hunched-over, bloated figure. He wore a tattered white shirt which glowed eerily in the darkness. Astor's spine tingled momentarily as the man lumbered closer to him but the organic look of a whithered man's face reassured him that this was not some wild apparition he was seeing. The man looked at him with determined eyes and, without a word, walked over to the other tree in order to help with the trash. There was a moment of silence before Astor resumed his own chore. Occasionally, he would glance over to inspect his curious, new friend. The fact that he carries no supplies for travel means that he's most likely a nearby villager. Astor wanted to ask the man why the residents here couldn't remove such things before his arrival, but, after watching the man's diligence efforts, he settled on remaining quiet. They continued with their work for a little while longer before Astor heard strained breathing coming from the man. Glancing over, he noticed how flushed the man's face had become and halted his own efforts. Just as Astor did, the man, too, stopped and sagged to the ground. He started speaking for the first time. "This...was a beautiful sight...to behold. It is tragic...that this has happened," the man softly uttered in between breaths. A normal person wouldn't have been so exhausted from just this amount of work. "You shouldn't push yourself." The man nodded and slowly slumped against the tree. "I am sorry to cause you worry," he said softly. "It's nothing. My company will be here before long. Just get some rest." As not disturb the man's rest, Astor drifted over to a knee-high rock and sat down. He waited for his group, occasionally shifting his weight on the jagged surface of the rock. Looking around, he noticed a scythe that was placed on the ground in the direction that the man had come from. It seems that he planned to cut the grass around the two trees. Strange fellow. Eventually, a few familiar figures emerged from around the bend of the pathway. "Here they are." Astor stood up and walked over to Dingrege. "Apologies, I got a bit distracted. The next village should be just ahead of this landmark." Sir Dingrege briefly examined the trees and the man under it. "Who may that kindman be?" "He helped me as I was attempting to rid the Brotherhood's debris from these trees. He seems to be a nearby villager." Dingrege nodded and gestured for a few soldiers. "Have that man rest under our tents as they finish. I and a few others will go and greet the residents here." "Will you be needing my assistance?" Astor asked. "There's no need. Since I plan for us to be resting here tonight, you should stay and help with the construction of the tents." "Understood, sir." As Dingrege prepared for his own excursion, Astor and six others began setting up the wedge-shaped tents. A total of five tents were needed for the whole group, and it was to be done before sundown. After they found level ground next to the thick forest, Astor laid the tent's cloth down onto the moist soil and got to his knees. It wasn't long before a casual conversation started. "To rest here when we are just a bit away from nice and comfortable lodging. That Dingrege can be too harsh on us." "He wants to try and impress William. I would do the same if it means that I get more pay. Could use that money now." As they laid out the supports and spiked the fabric against the floor, one of the men looked up and stared at the two yew trees a few meters away. "Is that spruce? Could be just as good as beer. It would go great with the meat they gave us." "I wouldn't. It's yew," Astor quickly interjected. "Yew? Maybe we shouldn't be so close to it. I heard just touching it makes you hear the voices of the dead all night long." A huffed voiced quickly interrupted. "Enough with your damn stories." Astor watched as five of them smiled teasingly. "Come on, Thorn. Get back to work. We don't have time to be listening to your gripes." "We'll make you start by cleaning those trees if you keep it that up." The short, muscular man cursed them under his breath and continued his work bitterly. Astor soon remembered that the bearded fellow was also the one who nearly fell off the bridge yesterday. It seems that his hot-temper made him an easy target for alleviating boredom. With that mental note, Astor continued his work. He fed the long ridge pole through the middle of the cloth and prepared its structure to be lifted. "So you live in that castle that we passed near the mountains?" a man said, directing the attention towards Astor. "No, that castle remains empty until my family has need of it. I live further away from there." "I heard that your other house is quite large. Is it true?" "It is one of the larger manors of the region." "How many houses are like that around here?" Astor thought for a moment, trying to recall his childhood teachings. "From what I remember, there are eight." The man stared at the flat plains around. "Quite a wealthy bunch you lot must be. The land here seems good to grow on. " "I wouldn't say so. The ground contains plenty of rocks, so it takes a quite a bit of time and equipment to unearth." The senior soldier nodded his head contently. "Still, it would be nice here." "I suppose so." After tying the ends of the supports to the long ridge pole, the group propped the tent up against the pull of the stakes and extended its structure until it supported itself. "There! Now, let's go check on our friend over there," the squad leader called out. As they walked over to the desecrated monument, Astor saw the man kneeling beside the tall yew. He seemed lost in a deep prayer before they approached. "Excuse me," he said as he rose. "Be careful not to get poisoned there friend," a teammate pointed out. The elder nodded solemnly. "Goodness, had we not come along, I believe they would have leveled this tree with all this... rubbish," someone else added. The plump man looked up in distraught. "My family was given the job to care for these giant relics but it seems that we have failed." The was a moment of silence as the soldiers stood around awkwardly, not knowing how to continue with the conversation. Astor gazed onto the dark sky in the distance. "It is getting dark. You should rest under our tents." Astor mentioned. The man broke from his melancholy. "Oh... Yes. Apologies but I must return. My family will be worried. Thank you, stranger, for helping earlier." As the elder stumbled off, Astor began to worry if he could make it back by himself. "I'll help, you seem weak," Astor called out while jogging up to him. "I'm fine!" he yelled with an outstretched hand. "I'll... be fine..." Astor was taken by surprise and stopped a few paces behind the exhausted man. He waited until the man motioned a few steps forward before quietly continuing his pursuit. "I'll be back after I help this man," he called back to his team members. They quietly nodded in confusion. Turning his head back towards the man, Astor smiled and thought to himself, How can a man with such frailty be so polite and obstinate at the same time? As they traveled along the path, the further they got, the more the pace of the older man seemed to wane. Worried, Astor quickly strode up beside him and inspected his friend's expression. Beneath his white mustache was a mouth held agape. In contrast to earlier, Astor heard no breathing at all. "Hey. You need to rest." The man continued. "Wait, stop." Astor patted the man's shoulders to get his attention. Startled, the elder quickly turned to him. "Oh, sorry Vaughn..." he uttered. "It's no problem, just remember to rest," Astor replied softly.

He bent down to take in a few breaths. "Ah, I mean... what is your name sir?" Astor grinned sarcastically. "It was Astor, but I'd much prefer the name you've given me." There was another moment of straining before the man could chuckled at his remark. "Apologizes, I believe that name already belongs to my son." "I see. Is he the one that would help you often?" Before the man could reply, Astor heard the rumbling of hooves approaching from ahead of the road. "Speaking of the name..." Astor saw a man clad in a rich, green attire with a blue, triangle symbol in the middle of his overcoat tunic and five similar riders approach. "Father! You are unfit to be out! You had Evette worried sick!" the man in green called out. The older gentleman reaffirmed his stance. "All of you are always so worried about me, but with time, I will perish and only those giants will remain. When will you understand?" "Gods! How many times do I have to... We are not allowed to-" the man quickly glanced at Astor before continuing. "You dying will not help the trees Father. We have plenty of hands that can..." The man in green caught himself and sighed out a breath of irritation before glaring at his father. "We'll discuss more of this when you are better. Guards, help him onto his saddle." Astor watched as his friend attempted to mount a horse with the help of two others. The man in green turned his attention to Astor. "Thank you for bringing him this far. What is your name so that I may repay you." Before Astor could speak, he was interrupted by the older gentleman. "We have nothing to offer to such a noble soul as his. Not even could we show the dignity and pride of our house for his fair eyes to see." Astor watched the green man's face redden with fury. "Um... it's alright. I had quite the interesting encounter. That is more than enough for me." The man glared at his father vengefully as he listened. "My father thinks highly of you." The man then smiled back at Astor maliciously. "Perhaps you'd like to join us for dinner sometime. Maybe you can talk some sense into the senile old man." Sensing the tension between the family members, Astor was unwillingly forced into the role of the mediator. "I... accept." "Good then, your name?" "I'm Astor." The man nodded. "We'll send a messenger for you later." Suddenly, a young female's voice called out from the back, "Perhaps he'll prefer the company of strangers over his own family who cares for him every day." "Evette... you should know that I..." her father exasperated. "Enough!" One of the riders quickly turned and rode away. "Follow her, it is dangerous out here." The man in green turned to Astor. "Farewell to you then." "Yes, see you then." With that awkward exchange, they left Astor to muddle in the situation. He hadn't expected the plump, old man in tattered clothes to be one of the manorial lords that reside among these mountains.