Long before the fated arrival of the Protectors of the Realm, beneath the muddied streets within one of the many dampened cellars hidden from the prying eyes of the Black Knights above stood a gaggle of human and non-human alike. Each dressed head to toe in what few pieces of ragged clothing they had left, all stained with years of dirt and blood woven into the very inseams. Some were even lucky enough to have scrounged scattered pieces of broiled leather armour while others wore pieces of their oppressors scorched steel suits as some futile act of resistance in a loosing war against a merciless foe.

Each of the inhabitants of the small room stood in defeated silence, clasping their weapons tightly at their side as all eyes bore to the faded map of Whitestone pinned to the crumbling wooden wall not a few feet away. The flickering light of the lantern hung at its side revealed the grizzly truth of their war against the Briarwoods, with six black X's crossed over a myriad of marked structures amongst the maze of streets and alleys alike. "The eastern faction was wiped out by giants..." a human mans' sullen voice broke as he scrawled yet another mark in the farthest corner of the walled city, setting the piece of crumbling charcoal back atop the wooden table.

"Then we need to make our next move count. Gather every able-bodied fighter in Whitestone." A shorter though stout Dwarven male replied, tone laced with determination as his thick mane of ginger hair restrained by a red head band glinted in the light. All while his weary gaze remained locked on the parchment laid before him. A tense silence hung in the air, all pondering the Dwarfs' determined words. All aware of the cruel fate that awaited them at the hands of the Pale Elf and his Warband should their gamble fail.

Dominic Monaghan as Archibald Desnay

'The Revolutionary'

Suddenly from behind the locked door leading into the hideout, the creaking of floorboards beneath leather boots caught everyone's attention as all eyes fell to the entrance way. Hearing the quiet commotion, the bearded doorman drew the dagger from his belt and pressed his back to the rotted wall waiting as the doors iron bar slid with a quiet screech from its mountings opening with a grumbling shudder as the intruder stepped inside.

In an instant the rebel leapt forward, pressing the sharpened steel edge of his blade to the scarred Half-Elf's throat. A shocked gasp escaping her lungs as she stopped dead in her tracks. However instead of fighting against such action the woman merely reached into the pouch hanging from her side, procuring a small piece of cloth and held it aloft for all to see. The Rebel's caution fading in all but a second as they saw the scrawled depiction of the De Rolo family crest.

"Bryn. Thank the Dawnfather you're alive. What news do you bring?" Their leader questioned as the Half-Elf stepped toward the table at the centre of the room, placing both hands flat against its uneven surface.

A heavy sigh puffed from between her lips, her eyes heavy from many sleepless nights slowly catching up with her. "The Briarwoods have moved the Kestrel. She's with Professor Anders." the fighter revealed, one finger tapping impatiently against the table.

"Anders? She'll be hard to extract..." he hummed, head falling forward though his scratchy voice loosing not one ounce of determination. Although just as he was about to give yet another command, the lanterns hung from metal hooks above began swaying back and forth as the roof groaned and creaked as if were screeching out in pain.

Heavy footsteps battered the ground above, steadily growing closer and closer with every passing moment. With dust and dirt falling to the floor, the Rebel commander reached for the battle axe propped against the wall behind him fingers wrapping around its hilt, eyes locked to the shuddering roof above.

Listening as the stomps came to a stop right above them, the Dwarf immediately sprang into action. "They have us!" he called out as chaos erupted amongst the few remaining warriors. The moment the words left his mouth a section of roof was smashed to pieces, debris falling straight to the ground in a bellowing cloud of dust. "Run!" the humanoid ordered as one of the Briarwoods dozen undead giants screeched, wrenching its massive arm through the breach latching its unbreakable grip around one of the unfortunates fleeing in terror.

Ghastly, horrific screams echoed from the Rebels throat as he was snatched into the air, the Giant staring down at him with it's milky unmoving eyes as it used its other colossal hand to crush the humans torso into a bloodied paste. Again, just a few feet from their Leader, another hand smashed straight the celling and snatched another member from within the hideout, his screams fading into the night as he too vanished from view, struggling all the way writhing with all his strength to escape the monsters grasp.

"They're in here!" a muffled voice called out as the Dwarfs' attention fell upon the boarded up passage way on the opposite side of the cellar. "Break it down!" another commanded as the glinting broad head of an axe cracked its way through the splintering wood.

Storming forth with weapon in hand, barely scurrying past another Giants enclose fist that broke straight through the roof, turning yet another of his comrades to not but viscera, barely comparable to the humanoid once stood there. "I'll take the guards! Get out of here!" he demanded as the black Knights finally pierced the barricade only to be met with fierce resistance as the Dwarf, with a single swing of his axe sliced the assailants throat clean open, his armour spattering with blood as he toppled backward into the darkness.

Bryn and the few survivors ran for the open door she had entered through, sliding to a halt as one of the men by her side was grabbed by the leg and torn from his feet, one of the Giants again lifting him up toward its dangling maw, barely held together with loosely hanging strings of rotten flesh. Watching in horror she watched as the mans cries fell silent as the giant bit his head clean off, the meaty squelch burning into her brain.

"No!" The commander cried as the headless body was released and fell straight back through the hole. However, with his attention locked on the mangled body one of the Knights struck him in the face with the blunted pommel of a sword, forcing him down on his hands and knees while a mere handful of his comrades followed suit, restrained by yet more Guards.

A twisted chuckle caught his attention as he tore his gaze from the cobbled floor, crimson blood pouring from his mouth and broken nose. "You're a tenacious little tick, Archibald." A croaking hoarse voice called out as Kerion Stonefell, a bald, short, grey skinned, plump wretched of a human cackled. The fatted flaps of flesh drooping from his roughened chin, shaking with every step as he clasped both hands around the shaft of his Warhammer. "Gonna have fun burnin' you off my balls." he grinned on last time leering over the remaining survivors only to thrust his boot straight into Archibald's face knocking the Dwarf unconscious.

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A deathly silence hung hollow in the air. An overbearing breeze gentle shook the towering branches of the Sun Tree while a murder of Ravens took refuge within, squawking and cawing whilst some of the vicious scavengers awaited their black feathered brethren perched upon the shoulders of the bloodied and beaten corpses to have their fill of the spoils. Each one peeling away the thin layer of flesh and muscle as they gobbled ripping chunks of gore down their emaciated gullets.

The ropes suspending the eight corpses strained against the limp weight, swaying gently in the breeze, their faces frozen with deadened expressions of fear, a macabre mimicry of what they felt in their final moments of life. Vox Machina stood frozen still at the foot of the Sun Tree, gazes locked upon the twisted warning left behind by The Briarwoods and their collaborators.

None spoke a single word as fury bubbled from within their hearts, weapons clenched tightly in hand as each made their own quiet vow to punish the unbridled enemy they found themselves facing. Ragnvaldr having bore witness to the same barbarity oh so many years ago shook on the spot, his nails digging violently into his clenched fist so much so droplets of crimson dripped from between his enclosed fingers and to the soup-like mud beneath his boots. Even Moonless, instead of comforting her master unleashed a deep, guttural growl from beneath her barred fangs sensing the Outlander's anguish. A feeling both man and beast unwillingly shared.

"The Briarwoods know we've come." Percy uttered ripping Keyleth's attention from the corpses above. A part of the meek Druid was thankful at such action, no longer able to stomach the sight of the children and their family.

Opening her mouth to speak she could barely utter a single word, just able to stutter a few words. "W-We should cut them down." Keyleth shuddered glancing between both the Oldegårdian and Noble men, neither meeting her alarming stare.

Ragnvaldr was quick to voice his opposition, despite the Warrior within screaming to do that of which respected the dead. "No. they did this for a reason. This place is being watched. I'm sure of it." he swiftly countered, raising a dismissive hand toward her, narrowed emerald eyes scanning the windows of the decrepit homes surrounding the wide open square as he turned on his heel and marched down one of the many deserted streets with Percy not a few feet behind. The White haired Noble now wielding his Pepperbox in one hand, not sparing another glance to the gruesome scene left behind.

Undeterred the rest of Vox Machina followed the pair of humans, clambering through the streets like rats while Percy guided the way until he slid to a stop, his attention falling upon two starved, bedraggled children scrounging through an toppled create for any scrap of food they could. "Quickly. This way." a voice warned as the boy and girl scurried into a nearby alleyway, the ground rumbling beneath their feet as another monstrosity drew near.

Peeking herself half past the corner of one of the houses, a muscular, raven haired woman locked gazes with Percy, eyes wide with terror. "Are you crazy? Out of the street. Hide!" she ordered waving the strangers over as the thunderous chorus from their flank became louder and louder with every passing moment.

"We got to move." Grog commanded being the first to storm for cover with the others hot on his tail, none to keen to meet their end so soon. Just as the Giant circled past one of the abandoned abodes Vox Machina leapt into the nearby alley watching as the monster, so tall its balding head peaked just above the surrounding houses sloped roofs shambled down the street, milky eyes staring at what lay ahead as the party pressed their backs to the towering walls either side of the passage.

The Goliath, unable to hide his broad figure well enough couched behind a wooden create battle axe in hand ready to fight should the abomination catch sight of them. While Scanlan stood stiff against the wall, pressed as far as he possibly could be into Grog's back. "Grog, you're part giant. Can you vouch for us?" Scanlan uttered trying his best to ilvaite the bubbling tension as loud, drawling groans whirled from the creatures hanging maw.

"Oh, what, 'cause we all fucking know each other?" the Barbarian bit back in reply as Ragnvaldr whirled his head toward them, his face contorted into a scowl, shushing the two men bickering like they were children.

All waited silently, dread filling the air until Scanlan squeaked one last rebuttal. "Well, I mean, yeah, kinda." he uttered as Grog kept his attention on the enemy, eyebrows furrowing when it finally passed by.

The sudden silence was abruptly broken by a sharp intake of breath as the woman's eyes landed on the engraved buttons adorning Percy's coat. Gripping his collar with both hands, she pulled him closer, examining the metal pins and their detailed designs. "Why do you wear these? A-Are you with the resistance?" she asked urgently, her voice tinged with desperation as she looked up at his motionless, pale face.

"Uh, sorry, I-I don't follow." he uttered staring down the townswoman over the hilt of his oval shaped spectacles.

Both Vex and Vax watched from the side-lines, taking but a moment to connect the pieces. "The De Rolo crest. Maybe the resistance is using it." the Ranger deduced on hand still clenching her bow as the stranger released Percy from her grasp.

"We're not with them, but we do share an enemy." The male Half-Elf insisted his tone too laced with drawling determination, crossing one arm over the other.

Meanwhile the Giant still unaware of the intruders staggered along the street, the lights emanating from the spires of Whitestone's flickering in the grim darkness in the distance as the undead finally disappeared from view, it's head bobbing behind another of the slated roofs. "Whitestone is worse off than I expected." Percy uttered to none but himself.

"The Briarwoods are dicks." Grog chuffed, his attention resting solely on the pair of cowering children. Arm slung atop the create, fist clenched tightly at the prospect of such suffering. While Scanlan peaked his small body from behind the Barbarians towering frame.

Once again the ashen haired human balanced himself upright, adjusting his spectacles slightly as his own gaze met the townspersons. "Perhaps we can be of use to each other. Tell me, is Keeper Yennen still alive?" he inquired taking a single domineering step forward, leering over the woman, she as well took a cautious step back.

"Why do you want to know?" she snapped defensively springing back even further, taking notice of the way in which Percy's eyes were ablaze with fury.

Through gritted teeth, Percy's venomous tone cut through the overbearing silence. "If you want change here, Yennen is the only one who can bring it." he insisted praying to the Gods above she took the word of a Outsider. Thankfully however, from the satisfied hum that puffed from her lips Percy knew that the new found ally excepted his conviction for what it was.

Ragnvaldr stood some feet away at the twins side, Moonless attached at his hip watching as the woman turned on her heel trotting her way through the mud and down yet another conjoining street. "Lead the way..." he uttered, slinging the hand axe against his shoulder, not once tearing his weary emerald eyes from the shorter human still cautious of those he did not recognize. Especially in such conditions where Aymon no doubt had spies impeded amongst the populace, ready to squeal should they catch wind of even the slightest spark of rebellion.

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At the urging of the raven-haired woman, Vox Machina found themselves in another courtyard, this one hidden away by houses on all sides. The towering buildings offered welcome shelter to the townspeople seated in rows on stone benches, all facing a dilapidated fountain. Atop the fountain sat the star-like emblem of the Dawnfather. It was only now, after so many years, that Ragnvaldr understood the Midnight Sun to be nothing more than a blasphemous mimicry of this symbol, simply inverted with its central spike pointing downward.

Stood before the fountain faced toward the destitute residents was an elder woman with darkened skin and curly grey hair, adorned in robes of grey, green and blue. A Cleric, or preacher of some kind given the words that became steadily clearer as the outsiders drew near. "Friends, I know you have suffered. My heart weeps and my back breaks under the weight of these past few years." she began, addressing the dwindling group of townsfolk.

Gina Torres as Keeper Yennen

'The Guiding Light'

Among them, listening close to the sermon were mothers grasping their young children closely alongside a few elders barely able to stand with a few fighting aged men with some form of wound dressed in linen bandages. Each one specifically inflicted on arms and legs, even eyes as two of the congregation donned linen wrap around on half of their face, hiding their missing iris from view. "But anger makes us reckless. Violence doesn't burn away the clouds. It only makes more smoke. Have faith and wait for a sign." she preached, aware of the two guards glaring her down as she spoke with her flock.

"Have faith and wait for a sign. A new dawn is coming friends. And soon we will bask in its glory, together." the preacher concluded, only met with silent nods and hopeful murmurs as the elder woman stole a single glance over her shoulder at the prying eyes bowering into her back.

As they waited for the small crowd to scatter, Vox Machina stayed concealed just beyond the corner of a nearby house. The Townswoman was at the forefront, her shoulder against the wall, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on the guards standing watch. "Come on." she whispered harshly, poised and hoping the Black Ones would move on with their patrol. Alas, nothing came of it as the two merely stood on the same spot, their idle chat inaudible as the group stood poised and ready to fight.

With his towering stature, Ragnvaldr could easily peer over the heads of his allies, helplessly watching as Yennen disappeared into the labyrinth of cobbled streets and intersecting alleys. Frustration mounted within the Oldegårdian as he growled, his gaze fixed on the soldier's breastplate, his mind once again consumed by the singular sigil indelibly imprinted in his memory. "We can't wait any longer... Don't interfere..." he warned Vex, abominable fury burning as he marched into the open, axe in hand straight toward them.

"Get the hell back here!" the guide shouted, but her command was completely disregarded as Ragnvaldr continued to approach the two monstrous figures masquerading as men.

Their chatter fell silent in a split second, both turning to the sound of sloshing footsteps as their hands quickly slid to the handles of their swords tucked into their leather sheaths. "Oi! Who the fuck are you!?" one demanded, his bellowing voice echoing across the rooftops. Instantly the guards eyes widened beneath his helm.

"He's armed!" another shouted, as they both attempted to unsheathe their swords. Ragnvaldr, however,