Deatt woke up into a familiar kind of darkness. His muscles sore and mind slow, he slowly wandered his eyes around the dark room. Must have been a dark cloudy night, because he could not see the glint off of the iron bars.

  He dreamt of running through the city again, jumping over spaces between roofs, escaping a bunch of guards hungry to catch him. His loot joyfully clinking in his closed pockets.

  The longing for days past shook the sleepiness from him.

  He moved his tired body to the side, the soft bed warmly embracing him.

  Soft...soft? Deatt finally realized that he was not in the hole anymore. The events of yesterday's mayhem flashed quickly through his mind. Images of the gore and violence pushing him to his feet, with beads of sweat appearing on his forehead.

  Suddenly, a door opened behind him, bathing the room in a warm light.

  Deatt turned, ready to kick, punch maybe even scream any turned away.

  Nido was standing in the door frame, holding a lantern in one hand, while dragging a small bag in the other one. His hands were bandaged, though the bandages were flimsy and mostly blooded through.

  "You woke up." Nido summarized, placing the lantern on a table.

  Now, when the room was well illuminated, Deatt realized it was just a small cabin. It had a bed in the middle of the room, with a table opposite to it. A small fireplace was in the corner, inside of it only ash and grime. It seemed the cabin was long abandoned before Nido brought him here.

  Nido started emptying the contents of the bag, revealing a few potatoes, carrots and some other greens, along with a bunch of rope and a few fish hooks. The rest of the bag, seemed to be only sticks.

  "How the hell did you manage to outrun them?" Deatt asked, watching as Nido started building a small pyramid of sticks in the fireplace.

  "Ran across a few people on the way. Only had to outrun them by that point." the half-orc replied bleakly.

  "Oh" Deatt understood. Nido was not the type to kill random people on purpose, but he knew as much as Deatt, that when an opportunity presented itself, he should take it.

  "So it...spread." Deatt thought aloud. "What about the military? The royal guard? Has anybody showed up?"

  "Not from what I have seen." Nido grabbed an incredibly bent iron plate. He molded it further in his hands, creating something barely resembling a pot. Then he broke some vegetables in his hands, before throwing them in the 'pot', then he finished it up with water.

  As Nido continued cooking, Deatt decided to check himself over. He would probably turn by that point, but a nagging feeling in his head would not let him rest before making sure himself. Thankfully, there were no wounds.

  The light bubbling gently danced around the room, bringing a gentle scent of the cooking vegetables. Deatt started salivating at the smell. Compared to the unidentifiable food pastes he was used to by now, the vegetable soup smelled heavenly.

  They ate in silence, both still shaken from what happened the day prior.

  "What do you think?" Nido asked.

  "I don't know. Maybe it was a spell of some kind? Spreading through spit or some other contact?"

  "Why would that be in a prison? Wouldn't it be easier to just club everyone down?"

  "It would. Maybe it was unintentional. I can't imagine the kind of person somebody would need to be to set that free" Nor could Deatt imagine anyone researching a spell like that. The problem was how someone would control it. Handle the waves of mayhem it brought. No, Deatt doubted that a single person was behind this.

  "So...what now?" asked Nido after gulping down the rest of the soup.

  That was the question. Even with all that has happened, they were criminals on the loose and because of the escape attempts, the records with their crimes must have been copied and sent into other major towns. If there were even any left.

  "We'll climb Hurna, see what the situation is like in Jirfort." Deatt decided. The lone mountain would give them a vantage point from which they could see almost the whole entirety of Jirfort. The humble port town was small enough to make that possible.

  "It's gone. I am sure of that." Nido replied, licking his small tusks. "But if you think we should go."

  "I do. I want to see it for myself. Plus, we won't see just Jirtfort from Hurna, we'll just try to get a clearer picture of what's going on." Deatt put the wooden bowl on the table. "Thanks for the meal."

  The climb was stressful, although Deatt's psyche was there to blame. Every rustle of a bush made him almost jump, every silence felt a bit too silent. When they met a deer feasting on the summer grass, he had almost broken his head in two with a rock.

  The thought that a crazed man could come from anywhere, hoping to feast on his flesh, it rubbed him the wrong way. Nido made fun of him for that, laughing at his every twitch, even becoming so brazen as to scare him himself, but even he was on edge, even if he tried to hide it.

  But both of them paused when they arrived at the lookout on the top of the hill.

  Jirfort was no more, in it's place was a ruined battlefield. What could turn to ash did so, what could crumble, crumbled. Some ships over at the docks were still burning, some parts of the city were blown by explosions, leaving deep craters. Worst of all, the turned were everywhere.

  Deatt saw the masses move like ants, moving about the streets that used to belong to humans. But on closer inspection, he realized that they could not be different. The turned men and women of the poor town fought each other. It was a bloodbath. Torn extremities flew through the air, the arm-less turned bit down on their opponents. The bodies were shredded, until they could move no more, though some stopped moving much quicker than others.

  Deatt realized that fact even in the prison, where in his first contact with the guard, the man kept moving, even after losing most of his head. But then most others simply fell limp from one stab through the eye. Meaning, that Deatt could never truly be sure when he was rid of the thing.

  Deatt had no reason to like the town - he only spent time in prison here - but even then the sight of the destruction weigh heavy on his heart.

  "Carnage." Nido summarized.

  "Carnage." Deatt nodded. "Well. No reason to stay here. Those bastards might not come all the way up, but it's not like we can make do with what we have." Deatt hated how little he understood about their situation. The last time Deatt did not understand something fully, it landed them in prison after all. Even now he cursed the 'magical trinket' that broke on him.

  "Where will we go?"

  In Deatt's opinion, there were only three possible answers. First, they could live in the wilderness. He did just complain about the lack of tools and such, but they would be able to slowly acquire them. There were large forests to the north, where Deatt would bet, the turned would never enter. Forests were solitary, fruitful when a person knew what he was doing and overall fairly calm. The problem was that the woods were utterly boring and although Deatt loved Nido like a brother, he would like some other company as well.

  Second, they could travel, either like nomads, or on a boat. But that came with it's own set of difficulties. Especially considering the fact that Deatt was pretty sure he suffered with sea sickness. The rocking of a boat was an experience he would rather never again go through.

  The last left was to rejoin the civilization again, if any were left. They might have been viewed as criminals, but Deatt doubted that anyone would actually care. Petty thieves as opposed to a horde of whatever the turned was? They would be welcomed if they would help.

  Only two cities came to mind. Zenwall and the magical city of Geroth. Zenwall, named after the great outer wall build by monks in far history, was a logical conclusion. As long as the wall stood and the military there stood with it, the turned had no chance to break in. Geroth was simply filled with wizards. The plethora of spells at their disposal should make protecting the city rather easy. The turned did not seem capable of dodging even strikes from a handheld weapon, how would they avoid a ball of fire?

  "Say a number." Deatt decided to leave the decision to fate. If the number would be odd, they would travel to Zenwall, if not, then Geroth.

  "Why?"Nido asked.

  Deatt sighed and decided by himself.

  "Remember Zenwall?"

  They traveled mostly through the forest at the start. Deatt decided that traveling by the main road posed too much danger. They had no idea how far the calamity spread, there was a chance that the small settlements were unaffected, but in these situations, he preferred to stay on the safe side of things.

  But the city was at least two weeks away, and Deatt knew that they lacked the skills necessary to survive in the wilderness. Nido might have had the strength of an ox, and Deatt liked to see his wit as sharp as foxes, but neither had the knowledge to thrive. Their natural habitat was a bustling city after all.

  It started with the sounds of Nido's stomach. The quiet growling announced the hunger Nido was suffering with. The mountain of muscle required a sizable offering to keep strong every day, meaning that they had to find food, or his pure strength would start to diminish. Not the first time Nido's insatiable hunger complicated their situation.

  Deatt set off to find food, as did Nido, but they both came back empty handed. Deatt saw a couple of black berries on the way, but he was suspecting them to be poisonous. Iron gut or no, even pure-blooded orcs could still die from poison.

  With no other choice, they made their way to the road. Deatt knew that it would cut through multiple villages and they just had to hope that the wave of turned was slower than them, or that they would avoid this road at all.

  It took only about two hours walking by the road, before they encountered their first village.

  Unfortunately, the first thing they saw was smoke.

  Wooden cabins and other humble buildings were in shambles. The hay roofs burned down, or fell when the wooden walls crumbled down.

  They stopped at the sight of the destruction, having a fairly good guess as to what happened.

  The turned were quicker and they were moving in the same direction. Deatt just hoped that they moved on already.

  They moved slowly and quietly, reaching the first house that was only partly destroyed. There was a crimson red handprint on the door, along with a puddle or two filled with blood.

  Deatt slowly opened the door, cringing internally when the rusty hinges creaked. The sound sharp and loud. He waited in the open doorframe for a couple of seconds, listening for any sign of movement inside. When none came, he continued moving further into the house. The signs of struggle were obvious. Furniture was thrown about the rooms, blood about the walls and a scent of iron and ash in the air.

  But worse, there were no bodies. The wave of turned swept through the village, taking their denizens as their own. Whole families must have fallen to the evil.

  Not that Deatt did not empathize with the great tragedy, but the emptiness of the houses meant one thing for him - nobody would see him steal all he could. And even faced with the kind of danger they saw, he was of the mind to take anything valuable not bolted down. If they were to reconnect with society, he would need some money after all.

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  The village was humble, so the house presented itself with only a few pieces of gold jewelry, though Deatt was immediately sure of it's illegitimacy. The gold was way too light. Still, he took it. They were far luckier in the food department, finding dried meat and fruits, along with a punch of salt. They even found a few flasks filled with wine. Deatt unscrewed the top, ready to pour the wine down so he could fill them with water. Then a green hand gently but firmly landed on his, with Nido looking straight into Deatt's soul.

  "We don't know when we can drink again." He said, much more sorrowfully than anything else that day.

  It was a stupid and unnecessary request. In the midst of chaos, in the danger they found themselves. The turned on all sides. Deatt knew that it was foolish, but he also haven't drank for such a long time...

  Deatt stayed in the home while Nido was scouring the other houses. Looking into the larder and getting out food that would spoil too quickly, he prepared what he would consider a feast.

  They had three different cheeses, which Deatt took great enjoyment in cutting, slices of smoke cured meat and some almost fresh fruits. Maybe not the flashy dining of great lords, but it definitely seemed that way after eating prison gruel for three years.

  Everything prepared, Deatt watched the main road from a window right next to the table, looking for any sings of the damned. He waited for about another hour before Nido came back.

  Turns out, Nido could find alcohol in dilapidated buildings like hogs looking for truffle in the dirt. Before they decided to stay in the big house, he came back with a dozen more flasks, each carrying a different scent of spirits.

  "Somebody had their small brewery here." he said contently, putting two small ceramic cups on the table. His eyes shone as they moved over the contents on the table. His beaming smile revealing his small tusks.

  That day, after a long time in the slammer, they dined like kings.

  The fresh tastes of actually edible food filled Deatt's mind as much as his senses. The wine an intoxicating vice, warming his body and soul alike.

  Nido gorged down the food in a frenzy, the deliciousness of the food euphoric for his starved mind.

  For but a moment, both of them forgot about the danger they were in, or the horrific things that must have been happening all around them.

  Nido burped loudly as he downed the brown bitter liquid straight from the flask. The sight of his full belly and some drink spilling from the side of his mouth made Deatt smile. He was full himself, though Nido did more than half of the work here. He held his cup, looking outside.

  "What is the plan about Zenwall?" Nido asked, rubbing his stomach.

  "Hope that they let us in. Find work."

  "Work?" Nido almost screamed, but managed to rein the voice into a half-whisper. "We never work."

  "It'll only be for a little while, enough for them to value us and for us to familiarize with the city. Plus, I have an inkling that there will be a grave need for helping hands. Maybe paid with some coin." he sipped from his cup. The day was already turning into a night, slowly draining the light from the day.

  What Deatt would give to hear the happy jiggling in a stolen pouch. It was so long since he was able to

  He watched the sun slowly disappear on the horizon. When he noticed incoming silhouettes.

  "Stop drinking and stay silent."

  The half-orc quickly put the cup down and focused. Drunk or not, Nido knew better than to disregard Deatt's orders.

  They both knelt before the window, carefully observing the road.

  As the silhouettes got closer, it became obvious they were no people. A group of five turned ran down the road, tackling into each other. They were quick, getting from all the way on the horizon to the outskirts of the village. At that point both Deatt and Nido bent down, deciding that they really wanted to avoid the conflict.

  It took only a little while before they heard the heavy steps of the group and for their horror, they stopped right under the window.

  This time they only heard groans, and maybe a few dull swings. Then A body fell to the ground and the groups dining began.

  The one turned unlucky enough let out harrowing screams as the others in the group feasted.

  Deatt felt ill in his stomach as he heard the ripping sounds of human flesh, as the turned gluttonously devoured their brethren.

  Then a bad situation turned worse. The familiar sound of ironclad boots sprinting to the group interjected their feast. Though these had the tenacity and sheer force of power of the other turned, these also had something else. A rhythm.

  When they arrived, suddenly all sounds stopped. The eating turned stopping their gruesome feeding.

  "I...want." he heard. The two words chilling him down to the spine.

  Why did they suddenly talk again? Why did they stop? How could they turn calm?

  Deatt could not help his curiosity, as he gently and slowly peered down the window.

  The group of six turned to five, with their last member laying on the ground, dead. They ranged from big meny to woman. Most clothes in simple robes, or humble tunics.

  They all looked forward, at the turned opposite to them.

  He must have been one of the guards at Jirfort, wearing their grey uniform along with the boots.

  This turned acted...differently. As if observing the group before them, his head bobbed as he turned to the others. Then they finally landed on the dead turned on the ground.

  He bent down, pulling out one of the corpses hands with a loud crack.

  He bit down on it, blood dripping on his boots.

  "I...want." he said. Though the voice was still strained, it seemed less so than the one Deatt heard before.

  The guard started running into the direction the group came from and suddenly the rest followed.

  Deatt continued watching the way with a new weight on his heart. If they were to continue this road, it meant that they would probably encounter them at some point. Weaponless as they were, the prospect did not seem especially attractive to Deatt.

  "They're gone?"

  "Yes. But we got bad news." Deatt said, turning to Nido. "They are organized."

  ___

  Nido was getting a bit weaker, but it was a necessary sacrifice. Deatt decided to go to the road for food only every three days, trying to lower their chance of a head on collision with the group, while still preserving as much strength as possible. But his green friend suffered for it. Deatt would have to treat him for something when they were safe. If they got to the point.

  Thankfully, their next two visits showed shined some gold their way. It was quite a while since Deatt's purse clang so nicely. That should last them at least a few weeks in the city.

  Nido looked at his feet as they walked through the forest back to the road. Instead of his low hum and easy-going attitude, a hollow husk of hunger and depression made his way through the short bushes and overgrowth.

  He was like that whenever he had not eaten for more days at the time. The last time they gone through yet another empty village, they weren't very lucky - the food there was starting to rot already. Deatt just hoped that the next one would contain some cured meat.

  What Deatt decided to count as lucky, was the absence since the guard incident. It seemed almost like they were crowding elsewhere. Hunting for prey if Deatt had to guess.

  The village they were coming to was bigger than the other ones, some of the buildings even made out of stone, with a lords manor in the middle, along with a church.

  Deatt had already frown accustomed to the desolation, not paying any mind to the rotting viscera and entrails they encountered on the way. It smelt something awful, but he was used to it by his first year in prison.

  The pair made their way through the small wooden houses, grabbing anything of value, or anything edible. Of course the latter meant something a bit different to the two. Deatt encountered Nido eating a whole block of butter that miraculously survived until their arrival. The half-orc just shrugged at the surprised Deatt and gulped it down.

  Other than that, the houses seemed already ransacked, hinting that there may just be a few survivors from the villages. That left out the church and the manor.

  The churches were not especially known for their stock of food, so the two of them decided to head to the manor.

  They faced doubts almost instantly, especially when they noticed the building was boarded up from the outside.

  Every window or doors were blocked off, as if to contain something inside. What the 'something' might have been required very little imagination. Or at least that was what Deatt thought at first.

  But when encircling the building, to make sure that it was actually walled off from every side, he was surprised by a message written with chalk over the wall.

  "WITCH TO ASHES" it said. Deatt seriously doubted that any survivors would have the time to write the message on the building if it was meant as a prison for the turned. Now thinking about it, he doubted that they would even have the time to board up the building as carefully as they did.

  That was when he decided to enter. He heard multiple stories of malevolent witched, cursing someone's first born, sucking the life of a field, or making the crops grow mold. Some part of him believed the stories of course, there was no reason to think that people gifted with magic would also be miraculously good folk, but he also believed that many were misunderstood by the frightened populace, or simply made up.

  He was hoping that this might be the latter.

  Nido grabbed an iron axe that he brough from a small smithy and started digging into the back entrance to the building. It was facing the other way than the road, so it was a bit harder to spot.

  A giant door appeared before them, from strong wood, and an iron handle with reliefs. Their lavishness almost made Deatt knock, but he decided against it. It would be better to see the 'witch' before she would know of them.

  They opened the door to a great hall. Silver chandeliers hung from the ceiling, great flights of stairs on both sides led to a second story and furniture covered with leather invited them inside. What they did not expect was the amount of locked up crates and that most of the things were covered in a great layer of dust.

  "A ghost manor." Nido decided. Though Deatt obviously disagreed with the hasty statement, he had to admit it fit the eerie atmosphere of the place rather nicely.

  "Better dead than running these days."