Six men and their beasts of burden formed a small caravan along a well-worn path through the Roszak forest connecting the two vastly different cities of Dova and Tadia.

This deciduous forest had covered a few hundred-thousand acres in land, with many parts still unventured, for they were considered dangerous by the townsfolk.

Many legends had been told of ferocious creatures that dwell in the undergrowth that were best left alone.

Clay rich soil under toe kicked up a red-orange silt that visibly tarnished the white linens of the four Dovan riders.

The sun, nearing its highest point in the sky, shone through a balding canopy of vibrant hues of oranges and yellows.

Few songbirds lingered just out of sight echoing their short tune, carried and lost by a pale wind that was constant in rustling the leaves and tearing some away from their branches.

Aside from the gear occasionally having rattled in packs, and the metal-on-metal slink of the light armor worn by the Tadian knight and squire accompanying the Dovan diplomats, the group traveled in a tense and tired silence.

Looking up toward the sky, the leading knight had made a largely visible gesture to the accompaniment to break for a short while.

They meandered from the worn path toward the river that tread through the woodland, dismounting and tying their mounts to nearby trees.

The diplomats dusted the clay from linen cloths and began to unfasten their packs from their respective beasts, gathering along the shoreline.

The Dovans were a people of Faith with a devout adherence to God's word.

They communicate their devotion through routine prayers on beautiful woven rugs several times a day.

While the Tadians are not a religious people, they believe in nature spirits that guide all life along a fixed path.

Despite their differences in beliefs the two cities relied on one another for trade to survive.

While politically the cities were in agreeance to help each other survive, the people themselves were very bold in how they viewed the opposite party.

Dovans viewed the people of Tadia as uncivilized and unorganized, savage and Godless people with crude ways of living, and no means of achieving enlightenment.

In contrast, the Tadians had viewed Dova as a city of too many rules with uptight denizens.

The Tadians showed great respect for their neighbor's belief systems, though conversation between them was limited for lack of mutual understanding.

Having known they would take a while with their ritual, the knight removed his headgear which released his waist-length dirty yellow hair that when met with the sun bore a similar glow to his polished iron chain vest.

Sir Edon Thomas was a rugged and fastidious young man of about twenty-six years now. Having grown up on his family's flax and cotton farms had given him a much darker complexion which contrasted his escorts' pale skin greatly.

Edon's squire, Samar Raife, had been holding up the tail end of the party, observing Sir Edon's actions carefully – always aspiring to one day become a knight himself.

As he walked forward to Edon, he too had begun to remove his helm, revealing short, thick and well-kept black hair that swept over his narrowed brown eyes.

His skin was a muted almond brown.

Samar had far less muscle-mass than Edon.

He emigrated to Tadia when he was roughly ten years of age, from a distant fishing village along the seaside when a great sickness took the population by storm, claiming the lives of his family and many friends.

His family had wanted him to be a scholar, though he began to grow weary of books and ink and developed a passion for adventure.

Samar had been Edon's squire since his fifteenth birthday, which was nearly four years ago to date.

This escort mission was a tremendous milestone for Samar, as this was his first venture outside of Tadia since he arrived eight years past.

Reluctant to break the long-standing silence, Samar spoke.

"How much further do you think we are from Dova?"

���Not too far now, Samar. We'll likely be there by tomorrow night."

Samar's face twists with a mixture of deep emotions.

The diplomats' unwillingness to be social along the path has made this trip rather lonely for Samar.

The two settled beneath a large elder oak off the path in continued silence for several minutes with the only sound being the murmur of Dovan prayers in the backdrop.

Even though this expedition had been consumed by silence, somehow the silence felt welcome when these two sat beside one another.

Time stood still for a time, and they enjoyed the gentle breeze.

Out from their peripheral one of the Dovan's approached, delicately folding his prayer rug as he walked.

"We may resume travels," he says quickly before shuffling back towards the tied mounts to reload his pack.

Edon let out a deep sigh before getting to his feet, offering a hand to Samar to aide him in standing.

Returning and untying the mounts, they began their travels along the path.

Edon taking the lead again, with Samar at the rear like a sheepdog corralling its flock.

The day quickly began to fade away and the temperature dropped dramatically with the sun.

Before the sun could meet the horizon, Edon made another gesture to pull off the trail.

The Tadian escorts began to set up camp while the Dovans quickly unpacked their rugs to repeat their earlier ritual.

Edon wanders with an axe in hand to collect wood from some of the trees, while Samar sets out to retrieve the brash woolen blankets and canvas tarps from one of the packs.

Samar draped up two separate coverings amongst the trees closest to the river, the larger for the four whispering diplomats.

Having set their blankets in a neatly folded stack in the center of their awning, he exited to see Edon approaching with several logs to begin a fire.

"May I help with that?"

"I've actually got this, thank you." Sir Edon smirks, his breath giving off dense clouds with each word. His nose and cheeks getting cherry in color from the cold breeze.

"Please make sure the beasts have enough food to eat tonight."

Hurrying to get out from the cold, Samar made quick work to ensure the beasts are cared for before returning to the camp.

Over the flames a great iron cauldron began to boil, making a stock from the remains of yesterday's feast of freshly hunter fowl.

It would take a couple hours of boiling, adding new water, and letting it reduce, before a meal could be properly made with the provisions remaining.

A standard passage between these two cities should have taken no more than three days with regular breaks at night.

As it currently stands, the travelers are now on their fifth day and have run out of fresh foods brought with them from Tadia to make this excursion.

All that had remained were a sack of white beans which will eventually be steeped into the broth of bones and woodland herbs.

The prayer breaks had taken longer than originally anticipated, and with the changing of the seasons, the days grow shorter as the sun does not stay in the sky nearly as long.

The Dovans returned from their prayers and sat in stark silence.

Samar meditated through his hunger over the crackling flames.

He thinks to complain about the meal choice and lack of provisions, but wild-poultry stock and white beans were far better than sleeping on an empty stomach.

Edon strained the broth over a cheesecloth.

The sack of white beans had been plunged into the boiling broth as Edon stirred wistfully.

Edon had finished eating before the others and went to the smaller of the two draperies.

Samar was soon to follow. As he slinked into the canvas tent, he found the knight removing his boots and chainmail vest.

"It's going to be unseasonably cold tonight," Sir Edon glances back towards Samar.

"We should consider doubling up and sharing the wool blankets to stay warm tonight."

"Y- … Yessir." Samar says shivering as the heat from the campfire continues to leave his body, removing his own boots.

The two bundle-up together to stay warm.

The wind changed directions and whipped through the openings of the two-sided makeshift tent blowing ever colder, encouraging them to bond tighter beneath the covers than they initially had.

As they had begun to close their eyes, the silence was broken.

The cauldron made a loud clunk as it bounced across the forest floor.

One of the diplomats let out a shrill and fearful scream followed by a relentless flow of screeching prayers.

The two escorts rushed barefoot, with weapons in hand, to the commotion to see a large and unusual creature hovering over a single diplomat who is now flush with the ground.

Its' body was covered in a mix of scales and matted fur; the campfire shone revealing striped patterns all over it in red, orange and yellow. The way it stood made it difficult to truly tell its size.

What they could tell, however, is that it had an atrociously long neck and reflective yellow eyes.

One of the Dovans was cautiously standing near the fire, jabbing the beast with the long hot iron spit he pulled from the coals.

It let out a roar that bellowed like thunder.

Still hovering over the now crying diplomat, everyone in the surrounding area can see its wide maw laced with sharp teeth holding back a serpent's tongue.

The Dovan with the iron spit fell to the ground, shaking in fear.

Before Edon or Samar got near enough to do anything, the beast had already sunk its fangs into the throat of the diplomat.

Edon approached in haste, raising his woodcutting axe high above his head, and striking the beast from the side.

The axe met the scales of the creature's back near its front haunches and seemed to just bounce right off, dealing very minimal damage to it. Not even breaking the skin.

The surly beast knocked Edon onto his rear with a spin of its neck, which apparently was also held quite a lot of muscle.

Using a prehensile tail, it grabbed the lifeless Dovan traveler and in one quick successive motion, this striped beast bolted into the darkness dragging its fresh meal behind it.

Everything had happened so quickly, that the shock of the moment still had not settled.

The tallest of the remaining diplomats walked to his comrade to help him up. Tears began to flow from their eyes.

"I never expected to see a serpopard in my time," the Dovan nearest the tents managed to utter through tears.

Edon returned to his feet, then spun in search of Samar.

It took far too long for his senses to return, realizing that Samar had followed the beast into the darkness with his longsword raised.

"Samar!" he beckoned.

Retrieving the axe from the ground he chased after his colleague into the dark.