Tucked behind the thicket with a knee dug deep into loosening soil, Briar guides the point of a nocked arrow towards the heart of a red beacon. Ahead of him, squatting on a low hanging tree branch, Cronn stalks the glow as well. With his ax fashioned in its two-handed state, he clutches at the handle- with one set of knuckles wrapped around the base, and the other, just below its heel- awaiting Belial's approach from the west, just beyond where the glow dissipates. With his own weapon still holstered, Belial rolls a pebble between his fingers, keeping focused on The Kneller's repetitive walking motions whilst Cronn surveys him from above; Ready to call out if anything unsuspected approaches. As The Kneller turns back in Cronn's direction, oblivious to the looming threat the three pose to her, Belial slings the pebble away. With a twang, the pebble bounces off another branch, catching The Kneller's attention. She turns quickly to her left, keeping the bell outstretched- chilling melody

As the sun rises and sets following their unfulfilling night, the trio awakens at their most current camp. Sweats from sleeping in the daylight, in muggy swamplands, begin to dry with the cool night air that manifests around them. Being the first to emerge from their tent, Cronn strikes at a hunk of flint. Attempting to ignite a small pile of sticks and twine that had been set out the night before. With a small flame flickering, he blows against it lightly. Stopping only for a moment to see Belial and Briar coming out to join him."We'll be off soon." Briar informs, sensing tension in the air. "Is there a need?"Cronn doesn't acknowledge the question. Instead, he strips the legs of a few frogs that had been hung in a tree nearby and places them on a flat-faced rock to rest over the fire. Belial moves alongside him to do the same."Look, I understand your grudges, but it is not my call. I'm merely following orders Achlys has handed out. You should be the most approving of that, Cronn."

With earnest intent, Briar and his fellow Nostrum travel beyond the bogs. Keeping within the jagged stone walls of a nearly dried-out gully, they follow a hum, which trails off from a not-so-far-away bell. Their warm breaths mix with chilly night air; A sign that their strides have quickened. Agitated clangs suggest to them that The Kneller has now been provoked, and time is of the essence. The aggressive ringing is a clear sign to them that whoever has provoked The Kneller, failed to successfully ambush it. Briar, ready to add another stripped bell to his collection of three, suddenly stops in his tracks. As do the others. The ringing is now no more than an echo, which passes through the gully and back into the marshes, never to be heard again. Looking to one another for confirmation and finding it, they march on once more, somehow, even faster than before. Completing a small uphill bound, they stand against the gully's bank, scanning the area ahead. Innumerable rough rocks- like tho

With only seven vials to split amongst the four Nostrum, Briar sighs and places two aside for Belial, two aside for Cronn, two aside for Yuler, and pockets one for himself. With the rest lain out and ready to be collected, he watches the others finish dressing for the trek to come. Buckling boots and adjusting collars, they wipe the sleep from their eyes and shake off what grogginess still lingers as best they can. Briar, having been up for several hours already, remains seated next to the vials he had lain parallel to one another on a flat stone, and keeps the setting sun just within his periphery."I'm starting to think you're holding out on us." Cronn jokingly remarks, collecting his vials as he does so. "With a hoard this small I'd say you've already taken your preference share."As Cronn makes way for the others to come forth, Belial slumps towards Briar, scraping fingernails against the stone and dragging the glass along it as well. Scratch marks along the bottoms of both make h

As dawn approaches, The Keep comes to an almost complete internal rest. Deep snores and somber whimpers come from those within the chambers as they sleep off fresh memories and a boozy meal. Branching away from the cozy nests and their nasally occupants, Yuler treads lightly down a corridor to the left, making her way towards the bathhouse. Being aware of the separation between The Keep and the bathhouse, she wraps herself in a large, fur blanket; Which covers her robes and drapes to the floor behind her. Alas, its length alone would not be enough to warm her bared feet as she sinks them into fresh white powder, just beyond the outer walls. Leaving a well-defined trail as she trudges on, and with a dreaded shiver, she pulls the blanket tighter, wearing it in such a way that the fur could be mistaken for a coat of her own. Slivers of sunlight beam up towards her from a far-off horizon, making her squint as it pierces her nocturnal eyes. Reaching the door, she bundles her blanket and lo