Chapter 1: The Enemy in Shadows

The dead man lying on the road is wearing a coachman’s livery. A broken whip handle is in his hand. Ralf immediately recognizes him as one of the coachmen who was on the coach he was on last night… he also has a sleeved mail shirt on.

Of identification, he carried only a bronze symbol which would identify him at a glance, as a driver for the Four Seasons Coaching Company. His whip, or rather what remained of it, was broken in his right hand. If he had any coin, it had been lost en route to here. Aside from his ruined, beaver skin hat and clothes, he wore a sleeved mail shirt and a horrified expression.

Assuming no one assists you in digging, it takes you approximately an hour to bury both bodies. The ground is thankfully soft due to the rain, and that helps you to at least ensure they’re buried deep enough in the ground. The Bretonnian gambler, who had fled with a scream at the sight of the approaching mutant, finally returns as you dig the graves, with apologies that he was merely trying to draw the creature away.

Neither of you are are exhausted by the experience, and it takes you about half an hour to dig the graves.

Ne présumez pas que mes intentions étaient lâches ! J'ai simplement supposé qu'il pourrait y en avoir davantage !

The Bretonnian says as he climbs back aboard, the drivers, waking up slowly begin moving the horses again… after a bend in the road, the coach suddenly comes upon yet another gruesome sight. A coach, flipped completely over at an odd angle, surrounded by misshapen, hideous figures. One, a mutant with a tiny, baby-like head, continues stupidly hacking at a horse, laughing maniacally as he strips flesh from it, stuffing it in his mouth. A mutant with a dog-like head howls from an apparent wound, as a pinheaded mutant seems to be trying to apply healing to him as he lies in the ground. Another mutant, this one with clearly visible hooves, munches softly on a dead man beside the road, a wound at his side hastily bandaged. A final mutant, this one the apparent leader, dressed in filthy, but recognizable finery, a crossbow slung on his shoulder appears to be looting dead bodies.

Doing so would be impossible, as the flipped coach is blocking the road… unless you intend to abandon the coach and run away through the forest.