Eight large boats moved upstream the eastern river of the kingdom of Ecragurne under the bleak morning light that pushed through the heavy clouds. The people aboard the foremost one rowing like madmen.

"Row, row, row your boat, quickly up the stream," Khan hummed as everyone winced, hearing his terrible singing tone. “Crazy dark elves are on your heels, aiming their blade towards our spleen.”

"Khan," Amanda called out to the droning youth with a deadpan face. "I swear on Belmead’s hammer I’ll toss your ass overboard if you don’t stop squealing like a dying cat!"

"It’s traditional Mongolian throat singing," Khan defended his vocal rampage. "And I happen to be quite proficient in it."

"No," Fabien sighed. "You’re definitely not."

“I am,” Khan harrumphed. “If I didn’t grab that gateway coin back home, I would most likely be practicing with my guys right about now. We had a well-known rock band in school.”

“You, in a rock band,” the tall woman tried to stifle her laugh. “That must have been a sight to see.”

“I call bullshit,” Cruz spat into the river between two rowing motions. “The Mongols don’t even have any rock bands.”

“There’s the Hu.” the better part of the group said in unison, looking at each other with a new found appreciation towards their mutual interest in music.

“Hold on,” Cruz looked at them baffled. “Even you Osmond?”

“What?” the pale young man shrugged. “I like musical and cultural diversity.”

“Fine,” the athletic wood elf gave up the hopeless fight. “Let’s talk about the actually important things. Regis; what the fuck happened back there? You were running like a madman with armed to the teeth dark elves behind you. We’ve been rowing non-stop for almost three hours now and you still haven’t said a thing.”

“She is right,” Valerie agreed with her while stopping to rub her sore arms. “It was obvious from you yelling at us that the Argent family did something, but what?”

Regis kept rowing for a few moments in complete silence, trying to gather his thoughts, hoping that maybe his companions would give up their interrogation, but it was in vain. After an awkward minute of silence, he sighed and finally spoke up.

“After leaving Bray’s place, I headed towards the pier, but Aspen stopped me.”

“Aspen,” Letty looked at the young dark elf. “Why did he stop you?”

“Letty; let him talk.” Cruz shushed her sister.

“He told me that Osmond met with another shadow touched spell weaver and he needed my opinion on some kind of magic related business. He was your companion, so I figured it was important if you’ve sent him to find me. The fucker led me to a tavern filled with dark elves, led by Natalie herself.”

“Shit.” Fabien cursed as he yanked on the paddle a bit too forcefully, causing the boat to fall out of its original rhythm for a moment.

“What did she want?” Sophie asked after seeing that the dark elf went quiet again for too long.

“Apparently; she set up this ruse to talk to me.”

“Natalie just wanted to talk?” The infernal woman shook her head. “She never wanted to ‘just’ talk to others before.”

“Of course she didn’t,” Regis shuddered at the memory of his mind being invaded in such a subtle yet aggressive way. “She tried to charm me out of my god damn mind while talking about her family’s offer for me regarding my services as an infusion enchanter.”

“That damn bitch!” Valerie struck the boat’s edge with her clutched fist. “Did you… are you alright?”

“No,” Regis’ voice felt cold and distant despite only sitting a few steps ahead of her. “It was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It was as if my own mind went against me. I knew she’s an evil, demon worshipping maniac, and yet, every word she said felt like the truest, most reasonable thing in the world. I was ready to accept whatever she offered; ready to fall at her feet and worship her like I was a friggin dog or whatnot.”

The young spell weaver couldn’t stop himself from shivering as the memory flashed cross his mind.

“I knew something was happening. My mind went back and forth between drooling like a puppy, and reminding myself that something was being done to me. When my head cleared after remembering that she was rumoured to be able to charm people with her voice, I snapped at her with arcane intimidation. After that, I…”

“You did what, Regis?” The woman interrogated him relentlessly.

“I shot her and Etienne in the face with a runic arcana bolt.”

“Pffff!” Fabien began to laugh uncontrollably.

“Dude,” Khan punched the infernal in the shoulder. “It’s not funny! Regis got mind-fucked and went berserk, so take it seriously!”

Everyone stopped rowing for a moment to look at the unexpected seriousness of Khan.

“What? Even I know better than to laugh at stuff like this.”

“You’re right,” Fabien shook his head, turning a bit more sombre. “I’m sorry, Regis. Natalie and I have… we have history together, so hearing about her and that bastard Etienne getting dissed just cracked me up. Anyway; what did you do after they died?”

“What do you think? I jumped out the window and ran like hell. The rest you’ve already seen. I got to the port with those other dark elves at my heels and now we’re here. End of the story.”

“No,” Valerie sighed with a sad look. “It’s only just begun. You don’t know Natalie as well as we do. She’s relentless and vindictive, but more than anything; she’s obsessive beyond humanly possible. Knowing her; she’ll be gunning for you, but not to kill you or something like that.”

“Then why? I thought you’ve said that she’s a madwoman.” Amanda looked at her puzzled.

“Oh, she sure is,” Fabien shuddered. “No. She’ll want to get her claws on Regis purely to dominate him. I haven’t heard of anyone managing to shake off her charm magic other than Gerard, let alone taking her out of commission after breaking free. She’s too depraved and prideful to let a challenge like that go. Natalie will want to catch Regis just to keep him as a deterring example to others.”

“And possibly as her personal bed-time chew toy.” His sister chimed in.

“I’ve told you he’s a magnet for weirdos.” Khan elbowed the awfully quiet Quentin with a smirk.

“Even if she’s trouble,” the wannabe paladin spoke up finally. “We have a solid head start compared to her and her family. These are the only riverboats Hunor had and they won’t turn back until we’ve cleared out East Fork, so unless they decide to follow us on foot, we’re going to be safe for the time being.”

“Well; as safe as anyone heading into a war-zone could be.” Regis chuckled as the tension started to leave his chest.

“How long are we going to row on like this? My arms hurt.” Letty managed to avert most of the group’s attention from the dark topic.

“At this speed, we’re at least another two hours from the first stop up the river.” The grey haired man answered while holding the rudder at the end of the large boat.

“We have stops on the way?” The group asked from the man in unison.

“Of course we have stops,” the ageing fellow scoffed. “Did you think you were meant to row all the way to East Fork in one go? There’ll be plenty of small stops along the way. They were mostly built by the hunters and fishermen living along the eastern river, so that merchants could stop to rest and buy whatever they had. Sadly, most of the piers fell into ruin over the past years due to the folks getting old and their younglings heading to different places to try their luck.”

“You seem to be quite knowledgeable about these matters, sir.” Quentin noted as he continued to row with the same effort as the rest of his group.

“I’m no sir, laddie. The name’s Jakub and I’ve been a boatman along this here river since I was younger than you lot. Sure, it was a lot busier back in those days, since the capital was still interested in using the eastern river as an important trade route back then.”

“And now they don’t?” Osmond hummed as he pulled the paddle back towards his chest.

“In the past decade the king signed a trade agreement with the neighbouring kingdom and after that, the western river was a better choice for trade, since it is closer to Harmarond. Not to mention that more roads appeared in the past decades thanks to more villages popping up throughout the land.” The man explained while adjusting the rudder to keep the boat on course.

“The eastern river slowly went out of use by the larger traders. Although the locals would still rather use boats then drag their wares through the forest.”

“What about East Fork,” Fabien joined into the conversation. “Can you tell us anything about the place?”

“Oh, I could tell you stories that would make your horns catch fire,” the old man chuckled, seemingly unperturbed by the sight of the infernal siblings. “But I’m sure you’re more interested about the place itself than the things that happened in the past. East Fork is a fine town, if you don’t mind the smell of the mire and the bustle of the merchants and the dock workers. It was built right where two small branches join into the main river, hence the ‘fork’ in the name.”

“What about its layout,” Quentin asked curtly. “We were told that the inner part of the town is where the survivors are holed up. How far is it from the docks?”

“Not too far,” Jakub shook his head. “The river cuts through right between the outer and the inner walls, so I’d say it’s a short walk, no longer than a quarter of an hour. That is, if you can find your way to the gates with all the fallen roaming about. The scouts told me that the town is crawling with them.”

“That’s why we’re going.” Khan stated as he huffed and spat into the river.

“What about the spell weavers’ and the other guilds? Are they in the inner town as well?” Regis spoke up after staying quiet long enough to somewhat clear his head.

“The merchants’ guild is at the market square just beside the pier with the mercenaries staying further towards the west gate. Those wizards have a small tower at the northern part of the outer city, right at the other side of the inner one. As for the crafters’ guild; it’s just on the other side of the inner city’s wall.”

“Damn,” the dark elf cursed. “It’s going to be a hassle to get there.”

“Why do you even want to go to the spell weavers’ guild? Any survivors would likely be at the inner town.” Sophie looked at the frustrated dark elf.

“I want to go there because every town’s supposed to have a gateway at their spell weavers’ guild. Connecting Hunor with East Fork would let us get reinforcements if needed. But more than that; I want to go there because we have several spell weavers of our own. If the locals were hit unexpectedly, then they wouldn’t have had the time to gather their stuff. That means…”

“It means that most of the collected magical knowledge, materials and tools are still there, guarded against any foolish looters by the undead.” Osmond finished the trail of thought with a smirk.

“You want to loot the home of those bloody wizards?” Jakub looked at the group with a baffled expression, along with the few other refugees rowing in the front part of the boat.

“I’ve never said that,” Regis shook his head. “But it would be a waste to let the mercenaries and other looters clear the place when we have people who could actually make use of the stuff that was left there.”

“I have to agree with that sentiment.” Valerie chuckled as their boat kept its first place in the line heading upwards the river.

The old boatman scratched his head after hearing them, but since no one decided to ask anything else after the awkward conversation, the man was happy to let the silence reign. Although the silence didn’t last long, most of the way towards their first stop was filled with small talk and a few yells between the different boats to check if everyone was still fine. As it turned out, shardwakers really did have an advantage compared to the ordinary mercenaries due to their enhanced physique and strength. The line of boats became longer as some of them slowed down after the hours long rowing. By the time the first stop came into view, three of the boats were lagging behind quite a bit.

“There it is,” Jakub pointed towards a jetty in the distant right. “Alright you lot; put your back into it! I’ll steer us closer and someone will jump over to tie us out.”

As their boat got nearer, it became obvious that the so called pier was nothing but a few large rocks at the edge of the river with logs and planks spread out over them. When they got close enough, Khan pulled his paddle back and stood up to jump over to the dock.

“Shit!” He yelped immediately as the rotting plank he landed on gave out beneath him with a loud crack.

The youth pulled himself up and turned around to catch the rope the others threw over. He pulled with all he had, tying the rope to the heavy log at the edge of the makeshift pier. Everyone could finally breathe up as the boat got moored and they finally got off of it to get some rest.

“You okay there Khan?” Regis asked from his comrade, seeing that the youth was limping a bit.

“I’m fine, beside a small bruise.”

“I’ll fix him up.” Quentin said from the side, tending to his friend’s leg with a healing prayer.

“Don’t stray too far,” The boatman called out to the other warriors that were travelling with them. “There could be beasts or worse out in the woods.”

“The old man’s right,” Cruz scoffed. “They’re running around like headless chickens.”

“Well, it’s obvious that they’re not trained soldiers.” Osmond patted her on the back as he watched the refugees head into the bushes, most likely answering Mother Nature’s call.

“Two people should check that lodge over there, for any survivors or supplies. The rest will form a guard perimeter to keep the place safe until the other boats dock.” Quentin issued the orders with a matter of fact tone as he looked at the group.

“Yes, captain!” Khan mock saluted to the wannabe paladin as he walked towards the left edge of the small clearing while Amanda and Sophie headed inside the wooden hut near the pier.

Regis held his bladestaff with a firm grip as he stared into the woods, ready for any beast that would rush at them. The forest was quiet with barely a bird chirping. A few minutes later the other boats started to arrive one by one as his companions came back out of the hunter’s shack. They just shook their heads as an answer to the questioning gazes as the group gathered at the side of the small clearing. When all eight boats were moored and everyone was on dry land, the captain of the fourth guard troops spoke up.

“We’ll be resting here for two hours. I want guards stationed at the edge of the clearing, changed every half hour. The rest of you; rest up as best you can. We still have ways to row for the second stop of the day and it’d best if we arrived before sundown.”

Regis let out a sigh as he walked over to a fallen log and sat down.