Starting up his campfire from the still smoldering ashes, he began to make his breakfast. The sausage sizzled as the fat began to melt, causing a pleasant aroma to perforate the air. The thought occurred to him, that after this morning, he would have to either find a town or try his luck at hunting. Not for the first time, he began to miss Lydia’s cooking, and his mind wandered to his foster family.

With his mind deep in thought, he took no notice of the small sounds of popping twigs, absently thinking it no more than the popping of the sausages in the skillet. It wasn’t until there was a figure in front of him that he took notice and stood up. The man was large of build, as broad in the shoulders as the castle blacksmith, and he had on a long green riding cloak, covering most of his body, leaving only tall tan riding boots to show underneath. The long black beard of the man covered the mouth, leaving only the green fierce eyes showing, but the most striking part of the man was the drawn sword he held aloft, an obvious threat that Kurtz was sure he didn’t mind acting on.

Bandits had never been much of a problem in the Count’s woods before, for the lord had a reputation of dealing with violent crime swiftly. With a deep, gravely voice that seemed unaccustomed to speech, the man rasped out “Unusual to find a lone woodsman out in the wilds, and you’ve even prepared breakfast for my friends and I. Kind of you.” He began to walk towards the campsite, causing Kurtz to retreat a step, until he felt a sharp sting in his back. He turned around to find two more men, one tall and thin, the other short and stout. The taller of the pair held a dagger towards him, a sneer on his thin lips. The shorter of the men had a full thick beard and a large sword held in both hands.

“We wont harm you as long as you don’t try anything. Your far from any sort of help boy, cooperate and you’ll walk out of this alive.” The larger man lifted the pan and began to eat the sausages. The pair behind him began searching through his pack, taking his hunting arrows, fishing line, and to his utter sorrow, the new set of clothes that Vahn and Lydia had given him, having not been worn once. After they had emptied the pack, the short man took the letter of reference and began to read it. Laughing to himself, he ripped the letter and tossed it into the fire, “Hardworking and honest says the Count, a man worthy of trust, eh boy? Well you happen to be in luck, We find ourselves in need of a hardworking and honest man, worthy of trust, don’t we lads?”

The tall man laughed and produced length of rope from beneath his cloak, his hands working deftly into a series of knots.