Slow and heavy breaths puffed from Caspian's mouth. His chest rose and fell while blood dripped from the tip of his sword into a small puddle. It was the rhythm he was listening too while he reflected on this recent battle with the hollowed thieves. They were clumsy and slow but their lifeless bodies made them almost elastic and limber in their movements. The way they waved their weapons was wild and untrained. This made them dangerous, especially in a group. Their unpredictability was amplified by their eyes, or lack thereof. The eyes showed intention and without it, even the most unimposing opponent can become a great threat.<br/><br/>Caspian glanced at his fallen foes. Their corpses laid strewn about around him. It was a tricky encounter but he had survived worse, much worse. Caspian's breathing slowed and he regained his composure, sheathing his blade and mounting his shield on his back. He knelt down by the nearest hollow. It was face down and missing his sword arm, courtesy of Caspian's' parry and counter. He turned the body over, revealing the killing blow; an upwards diagonal slash through the torso. It was masterfully placed and had this hollow been alive it would have been a quick death. "I pray that by some miracle, your souls find peace." Caspian whispered before standing. This wasn't a prayer for just this group of hollowed undead, but for all that Caspian would encounter from this moment on. Once in the fog he would not have time to pay respects to every hollow he meets. It was time to turn to cold conviction. Denizens and spawn of the fog are deemed unholy and will be struck down by Caspian's blade. This is where the real fight begins, so Caspian moved forward exiting the valley and entered the Fog.<br/><br/><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">~ Tula, Shattered City ~</span><br/><br/>The old wood of the river bridge beneath Caspian's feet creaked loudly with each step. It was a small river but the current was strong, normally. Now everything seemed still. The water looked like black glass, the stone bridge seemed reluctant for any travelers and the air itself seemed to weep staleness. Everything seemed dull and lifeless from the trees to the sky. Further past the bridge, the dirt path wrapped around a grouping of trees eventually leading to a arched stone entrance. Caspian could see smoke billowing from behind the corresponding walls of the gate; a gate that looked like it was once mighty and tall, now sat crumbled and misshapen off to the side. "Only a demon could have done this." Caspian whispered to himself. Upon entering the city he recognized the courtyard, this was Tula, a city constructed by the King as the center of business and worship for his kingdom and the Gods. A stone fountain sat in the middle of the circular layout. Merchant huts littered the perimeter of the surrounding walls. Three paths to the rest of the city sprouted out from the merchant courtyard; the left path was blocked by large stone debris but it to lead to residential housing and larger trade businesses like the tailors, bakers, and blacksmith. The right path was open but just barely with an attempted barricade covering most of its entrance. This led to city guard barracks and likely one of their last defensive routes and not where Caspian wanted to go just yet. The middle path led straight to the Cathedral and the back exit of the city. If there were any survivors they would be there. Perhaps one of them could give Caspian information on what happened here. The more info he had, the better his chances for survival were. Caspian moved forward past the fountain and felt a strange urge. Glancing over to his left was a bonfire. Its base made of ashen bone and soot with a rusty decrepit sword protruding out the middle. A tiny ember glowed under a bone in the ashen pile. Despite the ugly look of its setup the bonfire was surprisingly calming, and Caspian felt it was time for a short rest. Kneeling down he blew lightly into the ember, it quickly ignited and a bright flame erupted. Caspian sat, listening to the crackling of the flame, pondering what lies ahead.