The next day of your trip goes by quietly. There's nothing but the open road ahead of you. Any travelers pass you by without a second thought, and aside from Bertrand and Caroline you haven't interacted with anyone since the highwaymen. It's peaceful, almost too peaceful; usually it means something will happen, and it comes when you least expect it. Of course, your gut is right on this one.

On the third day of traveling, just a day or so away from Elkstern Keep, you come across a bridge and force Bertrand to stop. The bridge is large, wide enough to fit three carriages side by side and about half a mile long. It stretches over a canyon, a long drop into a rapid river below. You see men in ragged clothing milling about; they haven't seen you yet, but if you move forward they will. By their looks, they won't be too friendly.

If you tried to go around, you'd lose a day of time. Safer, yes, but you really just want this to be over and done with. The bridge is risky but you're sure that you can defend the carriage. You look to Bertrand and nod. "Keep going."

He nods, spurring the horses into gear. "Think we'll run into any opposition, sir?"

"Not sure. Probably, though. Keep that crossbow ready." Bertrand nods and grabs the crossbow with one hand, keeping the other on the reins. The carriage continues on, heading towards the bridge. You draw closer to the men, who turn their heads and finally see you. Quickly, they start moving, grabbing weapons and preparing for you to come by. You notice one poking his head out.

"Take that one out!" you point him out to Bertrand, who shifts the crossbow and fires. The bolt flies true, hitting the man in the forehead. He slumps over, and his companions immediately open fire with a volley of arrows and bolts. You raise the flat of your sword and hold it up, using it as a makeshift shield. You and Bertrand are spared from most of them, but an arrow manages to hit him in the leg.

"Shit!" you shout, then jump off the carriage and begin sprinting towards the men. They shift their focus from the carriage to you, firing more arrows and bolts in your direction. You keep your sword raised to deflect any projectiles coming your way, and through sheer luck, you manage to get to the men with only the faintest of grazes to show for it. They back off and drop their ranged weapons, readying knives and rusty swords.

You swiftly dodge the first swing that comes your way, then back hand the man who attacked. He staggers back with a split lip, and you move in fast by smashing his face with the pommel of your sword. He falls to the ground, dropping his sword and clutching at his broken nose. You don't have time to finish him off, as another blade comes your way, then another, and another. Raising your blade, you deflect most of the blows and dodge others. However, one of the bridge men gets a lucky hit through, cutting your side. You hiss in pain but push on.

Quickly jumping back, you assess the situation. There's still more down the way, keeping crossbows and longbows at the ready, while there's a group of about six heading right for you. They're all clustered up close, as though they believe that will make it harder for you. If anything, it'll make it easier.

You rear your sword back, waiting for them to get close enough...

Then swing.

The massive blade cuts through three before it gets stuck in the ribcage of the fourth one. The three you managed to hit fall to the floor in pieces, flecks of blood spraying onto you and their remaining allies. You pull your sword out of the fourth man, who falls to his knees and screams in agony for his mother, before swinging yet again. His cries are cut off as the blade cuts through his skull, and out the other side to take down the remaining two.

You pant, catching your breath. You don't have long though, as a bolt flies true and lands in your shoulder. You stumble back with a curse, and nearly fall into the canyon were it not for the rail you grabbed onto. A horn pierces the quiet of the bridge, and you know what it means: they're calling for reinforcements. You're not sure if you can take on these men, let alone more.

The river is seeming awfully tempting. Maybe you can survive the fall and be carried away to some place safer...

You they're on their own. You're getting out of here, while you still can.

This is too much, even for you. Hell, for all you know, the archers down the bridge have already taken out Bertrand and you're just defending a corpse. The only way you're going to survive this is if you give into your fight or flight instincts; right now, your entire body is screaming flight. Taking in a deep breath and mumbling a quick prayer to whatever god will hear it, you jump off the bridge into the river below.

The water is freezing, you note, and pushing you at a breakneck speed. Occasionally you bump into a rock and feel as though you're about to lose consciousness, but the fear of drowning keeps you awake as you struggle to keep your head above the surface. By the time you wind up on land, it feels as though you've been at this for hours, when really it's only been a few minutes at most.

You crawl on hands and knees away from the river, heaving up water and bits of your breakfast on the gravel. Pushing forward, you note that you're in a forest of snow covered pine trees, despite it only just being fall. Then again, you've been heading towards a much colder climate, so this is to be expected. Shivering, you push yourself up on the ground and hook your sword onto your back. There has to be some sort of shelter around here.

Your walk through the forest lasts most of the day, and by nightfall you're sure you'll freeze to death out here. However, luck is on your side; you spot a faint glow not far from you, and push towards it. What you see is a cabin, light from a lantern pouring out of it... The problem, however, is the spikes planted into the ground with heads stuck through them. Whatever this is, it's bad news.

You consider your options: freeze to death out here, or take your chances fighting whoever is in there.

You need warmth. You'll kill whoever is in there, and feel no guilt over it. Whoever's in there is a monster.

You unhook your blade and stalk towards the cabin, ready to swing at the slightest twitch of movement. Pushing the door open, you step inside with sword at the ready. You find a single man there, clothes ragged and dirty with unkempt hair and beard. In his hands is a single human arm, a woman's by the looks of it. He turns to look at you, and gives you a blank stare.

Then, a blood-tinged smile.

You swing your sword, splitting his skull open like an overripe watermelon. Pulling the sword out of his corpse, you swing again. Then again. And again. And again. And again. You keep swinging until there's nothing left to hit. Even then you keep at it, busting up the bloodied floorboards and reducing the mush that's left of him to bloody stains. Finally, you drop your sword and collapse. The exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall into a sleep before you even realize it.

When you wake in the morning, you feel warmed up after the night in the cavern. You quickly dig through any containers you find. There's not much, but there is a spare set of the cannibal's clothes. It looks like it's just about your size, and made of animal hides. Good enough in this climate. You remove your soaked clothing slide into the outfit, making sure it fits.

With nothing left to do, you set out from the cabin and into the forest. There has to be a town somewhere.

THE END