I cautiously approach the tree with the man and the dog calling out a couple of times from afar to show him I don’t mean him any harm, “Hello? How are you doing? I seem to have gotten myself separated from my friends and I’m afraid I’m lost. Hello?”

But no matter what I say or do, neither the man nor the dog respond to my words or to me approaching them. When I’m a dozen yards away from them, I can smell why they’re unresponsive before I can see why. The unmistakable stench of corpses beginning to rot nauseates me but I forge ahead to get a better look. The man’s eyes are open but there’s an empty look on them and the midsection of his clothes is covered in blood stemming from a nasty cut right above his waist. He’s wearing simple brown linens with leather boots and there’s a woodcutter’s axe laying on the ground next to his feet. He looks young, definitely older than me, but still pretty young, somewhere in his early 20’s if I had to guess. His short black hair gives him a look of youthful vitality which is macabrely ironic seeing how he’s dead and all.

The black dog laying down next to his feet off to his left has its eyes closed and it’s resting its head on its crossed forelegs. Even when I’m only a few feet away from it, it doesn’t raise its head or acknowledge my presence whatsoever. Seeing how scrawny its body is up close and how shriveled its belly looks, a hint of melancholy manifests in me as a heartbreaking story filled with sorrow and undying loyalty unfolds in my mind. The smell of rot coming from the man’s body is noticeably worse than the smell coming from the dog’s body and this only further validates the narrative building in my head.

The dog’s devotion towards its owner moves my heart and after setting down my leather pack and my sword belt, I get to work digging a grave big enough for the two of them at the base of the tree. It’s been a long while since I’ve needed to dig a hole in the dirt with my bare hands but I’m no stranger to it. Although I would love to have a shovel right about now. At least I don’t need to spread manure with my bare hands this time. After spending two hours digging the grave, I gently lowered the man’s body into it and then I tenderly laid the dog down right next to its owner on his left side just like how I found them. Placing the man’s axe down on his right side, I take a step back to admire my own handiwork and absorb the peaceful image.

When I realize I’m appreciating the gruesome scene of two corpses in an open grave, I quickly get the grave buried but it looks a bit plain and I search around the clearing for anything that I can use as decoration. It might seem pointless but ever since Wraine and I buried his father back in Misanth, burials have always had a particular place in my heart and I feel like I should at least do this much. When I circle around the tree to its other side, I’m astonished to find a small group of Uphrona plants growing under the tree’s shade. Running back to grab a knife out of my pack, I quickly harvest the leaves before shoving them all into my mouth and savoring their bitter taste. After swallowing the leaves, I find a few stalks of Weren flowers nearby and place those on the grave.

After finishing everything, I feel exhausted even though it’s still early morning and grab my things before walking over to a small pond I spotted earlier behind the tree when I was looking for flowers. I’m pretty sure Wraine told me to stick with drinking running water only which is fine since my waterskin is still filled from the last stream. But I’m not drinking water from the pond anyways and I’m only using it to wash off my hands before going to sleep. Swallowing a tube of Schon, I lay down on my back and let the built up exhaustion wash over me.

…

I’m woken up by something nudging my face. Realizing what I’m feeling, my eyes shoot open as I scramble away from whatever was touching me. My hand instinctively goes to my sword but stops when I see a silly looking horse staring at me. He tilts his head at me before sauntering over to the pond to take a drink.

Taking deep breaths to calm my pounding heart and my fully alert mind, I look around and notice it’s dawn. Did I sleep for an entire day and night? Once my breathing is back to normal, I notice my head’s clear and my body feels great. Well, aside from the intermittent pain coming from my shoulder and thigh. Feeling my forehead, it feels normal again and I let out a sigh of relief. Those Uphrona leaves worked wonders for me and the whole night trek constantly being assailed by the ghost dog was worth it.

Now that I think about it, the ghost dog and the dog I buried yesterday looked strikingly similar. I didn’t check the dead dog’s eyes to see if they were red but everything else aside from the ghost dog’s enormous size and its overly lengthy hair was the same. Fuck, I need to learn how ghosts work or maybe how they’re made. Speaking of similarities, why does this horse look familiar?

Seeing the familiar cut reins dangling from its head and the faded bite marks on its left hind leg, I’m caught awestruck. I can’t close my mouth no matter how hard I try and I have never seen a more beautiful horse in my life. Fuck Sunshine, this is the best horse in the world. Walking up to the animal, I slowly pet its side and run my fingers through its light brown mane. It seems to enjoy it as it stops drinking from the pond and lifts its brown brown head to whinny loudly.

After giving the animal some time to drink its fill and graze around the pond, I take one last look back at the grave I made and start leading the horse back to the woods. Before I can take more than two steps, however, something pulls at the leather sleeve covering my left arm. Looking back, I’m surprised to see the ghost hound pulling at my sleeve with its teeth. Interestingly enough, it doesn’t do anything besides pulling at my sleeve but what’s even more fascinating is that its eyes aren’t glowing red anymore. It won’t let me go towards the direction I initially picked and suddenly I have an idea.

Looking at the ghost hound in its eyes, I ask, “You’re trying to tell me that’s not a good direction to go, right?” But it doesn’t answer me and only lets go of my sleeve before sitting down and staring at me in silence. I try to pick a whole slew of different directions but it pulls at my sleeve every time and doesn’t let me proceed. I’m starting to wonder if it just doesn’t want me to leave this clearing at all when I choose another direction and it does nothing to stop me. It just sits there on its haunches and stares at me in silence as I lead my horse towards the woods at the ghost hound’s preferred direction. Taking a look back, the hound has disappeared.

Once we were in the woods, we just walked forward the entire morning and the entire afternoon. Whenever I got tired, I mounted up and rode for a bit. Whenever the horse got tired, I’d get off and we’d keep marching along. I have no idea where I’m going but if you can’t trust a ghost dog, then who can you trust?

When night fell, I set up a small campfire and got ready to turn in for the night. All of a sudden, I heard something stampeding behind me. It was coming from where I came from and it was approaching fast. It sounded like… horse hooves stomping on the ground and crushing dried leaves and snapping twigs on their way over to me. Wary of what I was hearing, I took out my sword and readied myself next to the fire. Both my horse and I are in no condition to run away right now and I have to stand my ground.

A small group of horsemen, no more than six riders, slow down their horses when they see my campfire and spread out to surround me. They’re not members of Candle and they don’t look like guards. If anything, they’re dressed like me and I think it’s safe to assume they’re bandits. Two of them have arrows nocked on their bows aimed right at me and I have never felt more naked in my whole life than right this moment without a shield strapped to my arm. I nervously watch as they draw closer but considering they haven’t ended my life yet, perhaps there’s something they want from me.

One of the riders with a sword strapped to his belt gets off his horse and walks up to me without drawing his weapon. As he draws closer, my campfire lights up his face and I can see him smiling at me with all the confidence in the world. He knows if I make one wrong move, his friends with the bows will end me without a second thought. Fuck, they have me by the balls. I thought about using Flash in quick succession to rush them but the archers are out of range and they’ll pierce me before I can reach them. Reluctantly, I slowly sheathe my sword to show my compliance.

Seeing this, the man in front of me with light brown hair beams, saying, “A wise choice my little friend. Tell me, what brought you to this neck of the woods? You’re far away from any of the kingdom’s towns or cities. Judging by what you have on you, you don’t look like a lost villager. Answer truthfully and you might make it out of this alive.”

Looking around at the other people surrounding me, I absorb everything I’m seeing and slowly process those details. Leather armor, a couple of swords, shields, and axes, two men wielding bows, six men in total riding six horses, and the one in front of me seems confident because this isn’t his first time doing this. It’s obvious they’re bandits but they haven’t robbed me yet. Why? What do they see?

They should have been attracted by my campfire and came here to investigate what was going on. They see a lone child by himself in the woods next to a campfire he built himself along with his horse. The main thing is, the child’s armed to the teeth with a sword and two axes hanging off his belt. He’s also covered in leather armor just like theirs which raises their alarms. They might suspect I’m with someone else which is why they haven’t made a move yet and they’re feeling out the situation.

I don’t let the silence linger any further otherwise they might lose their patience and kill me. “I was escaping from Ocean’s Rest and had to enter these woods to throw off the guards pursuing me. As you can see,” I gesture towards the bloody holes in my clothes left by the arrows, “I didn’t get away unscathed. Truth be told, I seem to have gotten myself lost in these woods and I’ve been trying to find my way back since. I didn’t mean to intrude on your territory and if you want me to offer a tribute as an apology, I’d be more than happy to.”

I need to be careful with my words and what I tell them, only saying things they can confirm on their own. Seeing how their group of six is split evenly into a pair of swordsmen, a pair of axemen, and a pair of archers all riding horses in formation, it’s obvious they’re experienced and organized, especially with how they instantly formed a circle to surround me. This has to be a patrol squad and outfits big enough to send out patrol squads to keep an eye on their territory aren’t to be trifled with. These guys aren’t villagers being forced into banditry like the ones back in Mudrock, they’re veterans.

By letting them know I’m being chased by the kingdom, I’m trying to put us on the same side as fellow criminals. I also let them know I do have coins on me that I’m indifferent to and they’re welcome to them. It’s a sacrifice I have to make considering I’m outnumbered, outarmed, surrounded, injured, and lost. Hopefully, all of this is enough for me to keep my life.

The man with brown hair listens to me and smiles, responding, “Well, that makes us fellow outlaws then, doesn’t it? As long as you emerge victorious from The Pit, then we’ll welcome you into The Fold as a blood brother.” The Pit?