A body is discovered. Mutilated beyond recognition, perched upon a hill overlooking the village. Questions are raised. Prayers are offered. Fears grow as rumours are spread behind the Walls of Woodmyst. They come at night. Lurking in the forest nearby, the strangers watch and wait.



From the shadows they watched.

Hidden in the cover of trees and darkness, they studied the comings and goings of men and women passing through the gates.

They examined the actions of the men upon the grasslands outside the walls.

The high walls of the village obscured their view of the streets within. But this mattered not.

They had a strategy.

They had the resources.

Biding their time, they watched.


Soon, they would act.

Their timing needed to be perfect.

The result had to be exact.

For so long, they had been planning.

For so long, they had waited.

Soon their patience would be rewarded.



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