Niclaos dove behind the tall, gnarled tree, just in time to hear a deep thunk. He peered around to see a spear shaking in the trunk behind where he stood. He spun and ran, dodging fallen logs and trees. Behind him, the chanting from the village he had just left had grown louder, closer.
Escrutus stood over the fallen stone of the shrine of Astrea. He felt powerful in his gleaming bronze armor with his bull helm. The altars