Ambrose was sat on the bank of the river as the sun crested the tree line. He had woken up earlier then he would normally, mostly because he had barely been able to sleep. He turned and looked down the flowing stream. The way the morning was casting light that the forest split in to shafts that danced on the water made it look breath takingly beautiful. He just wished it made the route down it more inviting to him.

  "I see you're up early." Ambrose heard from behind him.

  He turned and saw Ros walking up, baby Gren-Lag looking curiously at everything around him from his view from her arms.

  "So are you." He responded, standing.

  He walked over to her and put his hand towards the baby who grabbed one of his fingers, cooing and giggling.

  "My sleep pattern is pretty much dictated by this little one, and unfortunately he finds everything to interesting too sleep much." She replied, whilst stroking Gren-Lag's cheek with the back of her finger. "You know you don't have to go; this is your land; you can do what you want on it."

  Ambrose sighed. "This land is a blessing; I can't risk making it someone else's curse." He turned and looked back down the water. "Besides, I have always wondered what's deeper in the forest."

  The woods around Bramptonburg were protected from anything that would do it and its inhabitants harm, but that didn’t mean anything entering it was safe. Ambrose was considered quite brave, or stupid to have regularly attempt to forage from it, since even the local guards wouldn’t venture too deep from the path. This has led the deeper wood to be something of a mystery to, as far as he knew all in the city.

  "Well, we better get you ready then." Ros replied.

  Once they had gotten back to the camp Gro-Lag and Reenie where also awake. In the three days Ambrose had been unconscious, the family had moved all they had from the cave they had been staying in to the newly built shack on Ambrose's land. This was seemingly more and more of a boon to Ambrose, especially with his current task ahead of him.

  "So, we have about a days' worth of dried meat and hard bread" Ros said as she packed it into the travel satchel she had insisted, he take with him. "They might be a bit tough for your inferior teeth, but you will be by the river most of the time so you will have clean water to soak them if you need."

  "I have also made you these." Gro-Lag said, handing him two smaller cloth bags.

  Ambrose opened the first and saw about five runes contained inside.

  "Those are fire runes, I think I have managed to tone them down a bit, but I would still be careful." Gro-Lag said. He pointed to the other bag. "That’s force runes I tried to do the same with. I tested one and it's about twice as powerful as Reabeck's, but I can't be sure they are all the same."

  "You can't?" Ambrose asked, concerned.

  "It's difficult to do something consistently wrong my lord." He responded, gesturing in apology.

  Ambrose carefully tied the bags to his belt and put on the strap that held the travel satchel, leaving it hanging at his side.

  They all walked down the bank of the river; Gro-Lag carrying Reenie the whole time, until the reach the boundaries of Ambrose's territory.

  "Ok, Gro-Lag like last time you're in charge until I get back." As Ambrose said the words both of them felt the same strange sensation they had felt the last time.

  They looked at each other for a moment before anyone spoke.

  "Did you...?" Ambrose asked.

  "Yes, there was most certainly something my lord." The goblin responded.

  "What are you to babbling about?" Ros asked.

  They both shook of the strange feeling and mumbled that it was nothing.

  Ambrose wished them one last farewell and started his trip down the river.

  "By lord Ambrose." Reenie shouted and waved repeatedly as he left. He turned and waved back until he finally could not see them anymore.

  Once he was alone in the woods the absence of the feeling of security he had on his land became increasingly unsettling. He thought more than once about almost immediately turning back, but he managed to push those impulses aside.

  Becoming a lord has made you soft. He thought to himself.

  He has always been cautious of the forest. He knew that before any of the land was granted to him, he was a guest of it and so had always acted accordingly. He always only took what he needed and even then, only what he felt the forest wouldn’t miss. It had taken him a while to adjust himself out of that mindset, now he had to be mindful about getting back into it.

  Walking along the river was proving to be surprisingly easy. For a reason that Ambrose was unsure of, the foliage of the forest seemed to stop at least about two arms lengths from the edge of the water. Why this was happening and if it would continue until he made his way all the way to the coast where an issue that he was trying his hardest to put to the back of his mind.

  In the moments he was able to supress the fear that was bubbling about his guts, the walk was actually quite peaceful. The river while running quite quickly only provide a soft babbling, which combined with the rustling of the trees occasionally managed to supress his anxiety.

  After about a quarters day travel Ambrose noticed that the forest next to the path seemed to be thinning, while he knew logically that he was nowhere near the end of the woods, a small pang of hope held in his heart. It was only when he walked off his path to investigate when he realised why.

  Just off from the river in the thinned section of trees, was unmistakably the remains of what looked like a camp. The area of the camp; that while it was starting to return, the foliage was thinned significantly in the same manner it had at his own. There was a sectioned blackened from where a fire had been set, though it seemed that one hadn't been for a very long time, and most notably one remaining wall of what seemed to be a small structure.

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  He stood in the middle of the ruined settlement, silent.

  Who lived here? Where they like me, or are they not here because there were not?

  Before the feeling of unsettled dread could work it ways across Ambrose's entire body he decided to continue on his way, but even as the barren section of the woods was left behind him, he couldn't help but wonder if whatever fate had befallen the residence of that camp, could be his future?

  It was only when the sun was casting a deep orange on the sky that Ambrose finally emerged from the dense forest to the sparsely wooded fields that sat at the edge on the forest. He let out a sigh of relief letting his guard drop. From where he was, he could just see a thin line of blue that he assumed was the ocean. He was fairly sure from the view he had that he was pretty much in the clear when it came to settlements by the river but since he had come this far, he decided to be absolutely sure.

  That would have to wait till tomorrow though, he was tired and needed to set camp for the night. He was walking toward one of the few trees that dotted the area just outside of the forest that he thought looked comfy when he stopped, nestled in its branches, almost looking like it was hiding, was a bird. He normally wouldn't have cared or probably even noticed then animal, but something about the way it was silently staring, left him feeling uneasy.

  His instinct was quickly confirmed, when the moment he slightly turned to begin walking to a different tree, the bird; quick as a bolt, shot out of the tree towards him. Ambrose jumped back out of the way it. As he did, he saw in the gleam of the evening sun its jet black beak slice past him.

  It swooped up as it missed, using its velocity to get back to its previous hight. Ambrose backed towards the tree line, trying to consider what to do.

  Maybe it just has its nest in the tree, it might leave me alone now?

  As the bird reached its apex of hight, it quickly dropped and twisted, aiming back at Ambrose.

  Or it just wants to kill me.

  He turned and ran. He was not too far from the edge of the woods, if he could just get some cover.

  He reached the closest tree he could, running into it quicker the he meant to, winding himself slightly. He quickly recovered and darted around behind it, the bird correcting it path enough that it cut past its trunk.

  When Ambrose quickly darted back around the tree, he saw how lucky he had been to dodge the animal. Where the bird’s beak had grazed the tree, it has left a deep gash.

  He looked back as it landed in a branch, only pausing for a second before it took off and started back towards him.

  It didn't come from the forest, did it?

  He wasn't sure how he would do it, or even if he really wanted to, but if this thing wanted to take his life, he may have to take it.

  Ambrose dodged as the bird shot towards him again, this time actually crashing into the floor as it missed him. As he tried to run towards the tree the bird had come from, he reached a sudden realization. At the angles the bird had been coming at him, if he hadn't managed to dodge it just then, it would have struck him directly in the neck.

  He knew what this was, it was an Assassin Crow.

  He had never seen one until now, only hearing about them from Tyrus. His regiment had been attacked by a flock of them when they were trying to sneak around the city. He told how they had killed all their horses, slicing the veins in their throats, before turning on the soldiers. It was only the fact one of their group was particularly skilled in fire magic that stopped all of them meeting the same fate.

  My fire magic is probably not up to that. He thought.

  He reached and grabbed a pouch of his belt. The bird flapped it wings keeping itself at a stable height.

  The two beings paused, both waiting for the other to act. Ambrose slowly started to undo the string that secured the runes, trying not to brake eye contact with the crow. His fire magic was not up to it, but one of Gro-Lag's fire runes would most certainly be.

  Just as he had gotten the bag open, he fumbled and dropped it, letting its contents spill on to the grass beneath him. He looked down at his error and when he looked back the crow was now diving towards him. He quickly picked up a rune, aimed it at the crow and willed it to activate. He had braced himself for the sudden plume of heat, shutting his eyes to protect them. Meaning it took him a few seconds before he realised nothing had happened.

  His brain raced as it tried to catch up.

  Was it a dud? He thought.

  No, Gro-Lag was too good at making them to make one that didn’t work, even the ones Rea had made wrong still did something.

  The creature was nearly upon him when he finally realised what he had done, and threw the rune full force at it. As it struck the bird, the explosion knocked Ambrose of his feet leaving him lying on his back staring stunned at the quickly orangeing sky.

  He laid there for a while as his ears stopped ringing and a light rain of black feathers slowly fell around him.

  Once he had finally regained some sense and sat up, all that was left of his attacker was an expanse of said feathers and a light pink mist that hung in the evening air. He stumbled over and saw one other thing that was left behind of the bird. Its obsidian beak was perfectly intact, shining amongst the grass. Ambrose picked it up, a trophy of what was very much his first battle.

  For a reason Ambrose wasn’t too sure of, he decided to set up camp just inside the tree line of the forest, though camp was a strong term. Once he was back in the trees he set down his pack, put his head on it and passed out into a dreamless sleep.

  He was awakened by the first morning light as it pierced between the trees. As he laid on the ground; surprisingly comfy, he considered very strongly just heading back to camp. Once he was up and walking along the river again, that impulse very slowly faded.

  Luckily the rest of his journey was unnervingly calm, arriving at the coast before even the middle of the day.

  As Ambrose stood on the sandy shore he breathed deeply, taking in the salty sea air. He had never been to the coast before, he had been told about it from Tyrus and some sailors he had me, but he had never been able to truly imagine it. Now he was here it truly was a beautiful site.

  I have some time before I need to leave. He thought to himself, as he started to make his way along the coast. And when else will I get this chance.

  He took of his boots and let the sand move between his toes as he walked, slowly making his way closer to the water until the cool waves where lapping over his feet.

  In the short time he had been there, Ambrose had found himself fascinated with the ocean. The endless expanse of water that seemed to stretch to the edge of the world, that delivered random items from far of places via its tides. It was mostly old drift wood, shells and a slimy green plant he guessed was sea weed, but the fact it could be from anywhere set his imagination ablaze.

  He was happily walking along making up histories for each bit of drift wood he saw when he noticed something strange. The piece that had come from a frozen kingdom, and the piece that was once part of an ancient castle had both been rather complete planks of wood. He looked up the beach and notices that there seemed to be many more large pieces, both washed up and still in the water. He followed the trail of debris out to sea, and then saw the smoke. A ship was half sunk and half burning not far from shore. Several chunks of its hull and barrels; which must have made up its cargo, where floating around its remaining bulk.

  He stared at it blankly for a while, not entirely sure what to do. He could head directly for the city and inform the guards, but that would take nearly two days travel. He was nowhere near the main path, so assumed he wouldn't be able to find anyone to help anywhere nearby.

  He was wondering if he should maybe just leave and forget he had even seen it, when he spotted a figure clinging to a barrel floating in the water. Panic hit him as he realised the immediacy of the situation. He threw down his supplies, took off his most of his cloths and dived into the water. He was shocked for a moment at how much the salty water burned his eyes, but he quickly pushed past it and swam as fast as he could.

  He was extremely out of breath when he finally made it to the debris but had enough energy to lift the unconscious body up and more securely on to the barrel. At first glance he was worried he was too late based on their color but on a closure inspecting he realised their grey completion was not an indication of their mortality, the individual who Ambrose was currently supporting had small horns protruding from there forehead, and on the one hand that he could see, they had a sixth finger. He had never seen one in person, but the person he had saved, was a Slovèi