Chapter 15: Crow’s Ridge

“See that one, the one with the white hair.” Jess said, pointing.

Grid squinted his eyes for a moment and asked, “Did a pig raised by someone over in Aylwyn fall in the water and drown, and the carcass washed up over here?”

“It’s not livestock, it’s people.” The pastor, who had woken up from his nap at some point, tapped the wagon and shouted, “Stop, someone’s in the water!”

“People?” The paladin at the front poked his head out, and the wagon swayed to a stop.

After the sound of horses’ hooves, the movement of the crates swaying, the creaking and running of the wagons had all died away, all that was left was the sound of the water and the birds chirping, the movement of the wind blowing through the trees, and the silence was a little frightening.

Jace jumped off the wagon and approached the shore, that white thing between the water and grass was indeed a person, and it looked like the size of the body was big just simply strong and strong, not like it was unusually swollen because of soaking for too long and turning into a giant view, which indicated that its death was not very long yet.

The priest took off his outer robe and waded over to the body and swam over to it, turning the whole thing over with all his might, which turned out to be a woman.

Combined with her rather characteristic physique and the burr-like, nonexistent blonde hair on top of her head, it was pretty much enough to guess who she was.

The crowd helped to drag the woman’s body ashore in unison, and found her missing half a leg, blistered white in cross-section, and covered with a variety of appalling wounds, especially on her lower body.

Grider frowned and asked, “What’s going on here, this is certainly not a suicide by jumping into a river.”

“Jackals.” One of the travelers said, “There’s little else that could be possible, don’t forget that those jackals are humanoid creatures as well, they don’t have many of our strengths, and they don’t have one of our weaknesses.”

“Remember the group we met at the inn last night?” Jace asked Grid.

“You mean ……” said Grider, looking closer at the face, “It really seems to be the woman with the bow on her back.”

“Do you know this lady?” The pastor asked.

“I think that’s her right, we met yesterday.” Jace said, “The woman and the two men were a group of bounty hunters going to hunt a jackal leader with a bounty over in Stormwind, but they left the inn last night and were never seen again.”

“I have heard of the new leader of the Riverclaw clan.” The paladin said.

The old preacher glanced into the distant thicket of watercress that was taller than a man, and said, “Gentlemen, we’d better get out of here; if she was alive last night, the place where she was killed may not be far from here.”

“What about the body?” The young priest asked.

“Push into the river, push farther.” The paladin said, “Let the river carry her to the Valley of Thorns, or beyond. If buried here, a nearby disease-carrying animal might dig her up. Bad luck getting her infected with necromantic contamination would make such a strong walker difficult to deal with, and would cause undue trouble for Raven Ridge.”

“Can’t you burn it?” Jess asked.

“We don’t have enough fuel on hand, and gathering materials on the spot would take a long time and might attract jackals.” The paladin said, “As much as I hate to say it, that would be like us preparing a roast for them, and the lady would not want that to happen.”

“Then let’s do it.” Grid rolled up his sleeves and followed the crowd as they pushed the woman’s body into the river again.

The priests chanted prayers to overtake the dead, and several hitchhiking travelers, believers in the Holy Light or not, remained silent, watching the bodies go away.

Jace looked over there, and then back to the north, at the rolling Elwyn Forest.

He always felt that the story between himself and Hogg was not yet over.

The body eventually disappeared from sight before the group washed their hands and clothes and returned to the wagon.

The rest of the journey was much more silent, and no one asked any more questions about what might have happened to the others in that bounty hunter’s squad.

The deeper we went into South Irvine, the darker it got, and when we looked at the priest’s pocket watch, which was only 2 or 3 o’clock in the afternoon, it was almost as dark as if it were night.

The dark energies from the Karazhan explosion have haunted this place for years and will continue to do so, and the darkness will not end until everyone here dies of despair or moves away.

Objectively speaking, the energy within Madiwen’s body was out of control, and destroying only such a territory was already a very optimistic result.

After all, what possessed him was the soul of the King of All Demons, the true master of the Burning Legion, the Dark Titan Sargeras, who was able to cut down an entire planet with a single sword.

Gradually, the forests on both sides of the road became incredibly eerie, the fog obscured the view, and the torches set up on the road were supposed to be used to illuminate the travelers, but one by one, the dots of fire that stretched out in the fog as the road went farther away looked like ghostly fires in a grotesque way.

From time to time, the forest was filled with the cries of I don’t know if it was a human, or a wolf, and sometimes the sudden passing of a raven broke the silence, letting one know that there was still something alive in the area.

The spinning of the wooden hubs became the only movement that persisted, and Jace felt as if their group was being marched forward by the eyes of countless pairs of unknown creatures in the forest.

The carriage came to an intersection, and in the thick fog the shadows of a few buildings and a small church could be made out near the front, with what appeared to be a few windows in the shadows still lit.

The priest sitting in the front turned around and said, “It’s Raven Ridge, folks.”

This is Raven Ridge?

If he hadn’t said anything, Jace would have thought this was just a larger stagecoach stop; after all, this so-called town wasn’t even close to the size of the Sentinel Ridge Stagecoach Stop, and it was nowhere near as big as the town of Shining Gold.

It’s probably even a little disconcerting to be used to seeing towns and cities here that are much larger than the game’s scale, and suddenly see a small place that’s not modeled much better than the game’s.

The priests in the church wagon proceeded on their way after a little resting and loading and unloading, in a hurry to reach the next stagecoach stop before it was completely nighttime, though Jace wondered what exactly the difference was between day and night in the Twilight Forest.

Crow’s Ridge was cold and clear, there was not a single person in the small square in the middle of the town, only an old man sitting in front of the inn not far away looking this way.

The two of them, Jace and Grider, rented a room in the only inn in this town here, charging only a few copper coins a night, as cheap as a freebie.

Even though the inn was dirty and disorganized and dusty from lack of staff to clean it, they were running out of options.

Jace took inventory of his luggage and tools, slumped into a wooden chair, looked out the window at the eerie woods, and said, “We’ll try not to engage in any fighting; bad luck with the living dead, hide, run, and avoid sight contact and conflict when we encounter wolves or other animals.”

“That’s what I thought.” Grid pulled the sword out and waved it around, saying, “This town doesn’t look like it has much to offer for healing wounds, so if something goes wrong you might have to die here.”

When he finished, he turned the sword upside down and handed the hilt to Jace, saying, “Take it.”

“You use this sword.” Jace picked out his axe and said, “I use this one.”

“Why?” Grid asked.

“Making a sword takes skill.” Jace said, “I don’t have much combat experience, but I’ve chopped a lot of wood, so I know a little bit about how to make this axe work, you’re a veteran, and you’re too much better with a sword than I am.”

“This sword was built for human size, not so much for dwarves.” Grid lifted the blade up, glanced at the edge, and said, “Luckily it’s not overgrown, it’s still usable.”

At this, the dwarf lowered his sword, but did not move his eyes away, staring straight at the doorway.

“Who are you and what do you want?”