Ambrosia's hearing is more fine-tuned than mine, but I can still hear the horses all the same, followed by the sound of screaming and swords swinging. I imagine several of the merchants fighting back, no one would venture into these woods unarmed unless they want to die.

"Normally, I would say this is none of our business, but I see they displease you and I can smell their blood from here... and it is divine," Ambrosia licks her lips.

"What about the wagon," I ask as we ride faster and faster toward the battle.

"Can't you use your fancy spells?" She asks in a demanding tone.

I nod and cast Fog Cloud, hiding our presence. "I've cast an illusion spell over Abraxos and our wagon. From afar we are completely invisible to anyone with the gift of sight," I tell her wickedly.

"With the cover of the night on our side, we'll have the element of surprise. We'll stop close enough so we can get a better look. Don't worry my pet, I won't let them harm you," she licks her lips again. Her pale skin almost seems to glisten in the moonlight as she brushes her hair back and moves to the front of the wagon.

Abraxos has led us without so much as a single order from either of us. I'm sure she has some kind of telepathic link to the undead horse. I can see the same fire in its eyes, the same fire that burns around her.

A part of me wonders if I'm still charmed but a quick look at my NCI proves that I'm not. Browsing my NCI has revealed to me that I have a few buffs I haven't noticed before. These are Increased Stamina, Dark Vision, and Well-Rested.

Still, despite sleeping through the entire day, I can't help but shake the feeling that I'm not supposed to be here. Normally, I'd be back at the Arcade with Smeme, hating everything about my job. That feeling of security is now gone. Instead, I have to fight the battle of my life against a group of raiders while saving some innocent merchants at the same time. A couple of days ago this would be out of the sphere of possibility.

We stop our little wagon about two hundred feet from the battle. I see several raiders with their scythes claiming the heads of the poor merchants. They look like they are attacking in pairs while a trio stands watching on the sidelines. The merchants don't stand a chance without us.

"What do you say we get a closer look?" Ambrosia says poking my side.

That’s what we do. With swift, elegant movements, we climb up an old tall tree and stand on top of its trunk. Ambrosia is standing beside me, smiling. She moves toward the edge of the tree to watch the battle. Placing one of her legs up on the branch, she lifts herself out of the cover of the leaves.

I follow her, and to my surprise, I’m not exactly sure how we move so fast. When I look out over the cover of the leaves, I see we are just above the Black Knights.

"Quiet, we don't want to scare our prey away," she whispers as I stumble to catch my balance while breaking several tree limbs at the same time, in my attempt to catch up to her.

Ambrosia looks at the Black Knights like they are simmering in their armor as they fight, salting themselves with their own sweat. I count fifteen in all. Three watching the sidelines, just like I thought they would. That's a little more than what I had in mind, but with twelve merchants on our side, we maybe have a chance. Make that ten. Two more merchants were just killed by archers. That might be a problem. I've dodged crossbows before, but the Vampire Hunter Squad were lousy shots and I almost always had the upper hand. Running away isn't exactly the same as running into battle. Several of the knights have swords and shields. Two substitute their shields for bows, the marksmen of the group. The rest are armed with war scythes. They are as long as spears. Resemblance to the kind used in farming is superficial at best. The sharp edge is forged to take lives, curved like a Khopesh or Sickle. From where I am, I can see how the ends can detach from one another in case the knights have to fight in an enclosed space. The curvature of the weapon's design makes me think the weapons had been chosen specifically to take off human heads.

The knights themselves are wearing full plate armor that is painted black with dark gray accents. Helmets, spaders, cauldrons with gardbraces that are covering their armpits, are all in black. I notice red cloaks where greaves and other braces had been broken or fallen off. Their helmets vary. The marksmen wear kettle helms while sword and shield wielders wear bascinets. The watchers don't bother even wearing theirs, but I see their helms strapped to the side of their horses. Most of the knights have red cloaks with yellow trim, draping down the front of their black armor. Others are torn and ragged. The knights look like they had been living in their armor. I can smell the dirt and grime. Even rust.

"Plan?" I ask.

Ambrosia, smiling, points at the sword on my belt she had given me as gift. "We'll take the three watchers first. The one with the horn is the most important. We can't let them know we are coming. After that, we'll use their horses for cover and move from one to the other in the darkness. Their throats aren't armored, so clean cuts will do," she says, taking out a small leaf-shaped dagger. "And don't let them take your head. You can take a lot of damage, but if you lose your head you won't be able to heal."

Your Adventurer’s Log has been updated!

I struggle for a moment, placing the sword into the black leather scabbard on my belt. It was another gift from Ambrosia. She made a promise to tie me up with it the night before but looks like I will actually use it properly first. I am kind of glad I didn't leave it behind in the wagon.

Right now I am wearing a dark blue leather vest made of top quality suede, padded with cotton. The top half covers my shoulders and attaches together by chords and four bucked leather straps. The previous owner had been a lot thicker than I am, but I find the vest easy to adjust and fasten from the front. The back sports a black hood that has been purposefully sewn in. The outfit makes me blend into the darkness. I guess that was part of the point. They have made the vest light and durable for stealth combat. It might deflect a sword at the right angle once or twice, but a thrust will tear straight through it. I like the color and it is fairly comfortable, even against the tunic I am wearing underneath. I haven't asked how or why Ambrosia has so many clothes hidden away in the wagon. Victims? Lovers? It doesn't really matter, a little armor is better than having none at all.

I begin stepping lightly back, leaning down to climb my way to the base of the giant tree when my boot hits a knot on the branch we are standing. As I fall to the ground, I cover my mouth and try my best not to make a sound. Eventually, I hit the ground with my ankles and I feel them twisting and swelling. As I look over toward the watchers, I notice they have abandoned their horses. They have begun moving toward the sound where the tree limb broke.

Three bodies lay in front of me. Pale. Drained of life. Their eyes look up at me in shock. Their necks twisting and broken. Two of the three are arched on their backs across the ground. One of them has his entire head backward, his mouth still stuttering as he holds a horn in his hand. He must have been the first one Ambrosia killed before he could call for help. I have forgotten what it is like to watch her fight. How unbelievably fast she is. I ignore the radiating pain from my ankles and stand up. I am already healing. Across each watcher’s neck, I see the two tiny cracks on their skin, through which Ambrosia had drained them.

The Black Knights' Threat Levels average between 4 and 6. Not a single one of them has HP over 15. It seems the merchants are not the only ones they have gone after tonight. From the ground, I can see that their armor and their capes are stained in blood. No wonder Ambrosia could smell them from as far away as we were. She can probably kill them all with a blindfold on. None of them is wearing chain-mail coifs around their necks, which makes it extremely easy to exploit their weakness there. Even if they had thought, she could just as easily snap their necks. I guess that wouldn't have been as fun for her.

"Come on pet, stop lying around and play," her voice echoes through the surrounding trees.