Eerie silence permeated the environs, only to be broken by the almost rhythmic sloshing sound of wood being dipped and retracted from the dense liquid filth. It was not even the dead of night, but the area was already grim and dark, as if nocturnal creatures had already come out of hiding to roam the plane of the living. The thick and murky mud had sullied boots and wheels alike, rendering travel a strenuous task for the Regalian detachment. The marshland was a difficult terrain to traverse, and it took the strength of six men to hurl the gilded carriage set to arrive at the Pikestedheim Castle. Meanwhile, the other men-at-arms peeled their eyes for any danger, ever so vigilant upon hostile territory. This was especially true with the two Raven Knights, who despite maintaining a calm façade were secretly apprehensive upon their surroundings.