A small camp was set in an abandoned farmer's hut. The place's previous owners escaped the advance of the undead horde in such haste that they left almost all their meagre possessions behind.
Three inquisitors were sleeping on bedrolls on the floor. Their heavy armor was lying near, and they were stripped only to the padded layers beneath.
The fourth, Irkan, was keeping watch on the hut's porch. The sunrise shift was the toughest, but his discipline was tougher. The sky was slowly lightening, and he could watch the fields below. But he was also focused on the energies in the air and the sounds around. The rustling of grass and the field mice that ran through it.
No undead were walking nearby, but he could feel their army beyond the horizon.
Then, Irkan heard an approaching flapping of wings. He tensed, then he saw the bird and relaxed.
"Mistress Adjudicator!" Irkan exclaimed, rising from his seat. He raised a hand in a metal glove, and the raven gracefully landed on it.
