Eventually the dark grew such that they could not continue, and they were forced to stop and make camp for the night. In the fire-light they felt safer, but they saw eyes looking in from the surrounding forest and heard unnatural sounding bellows in the distance.

"Beastment." Waltdorf confirmed. "They are hunting for food and calling to each other. We must keep a careful watch tonight and sleep with our swords by our beds."

That night, noone slept well. They shared the watch between them, but still they were scarcely able to catch a few hours of uneasy sleep each before they stuck camp with the first light of dawn and continued on their road. An hour or so before noon, they came across the signs of another camp. A tent had been pitched and a fire lit here the night before. They knew now how far ahead de Swandle was and pressed on with renewed vigour.

That night the howling seemed closer, and again nobody slept easily. Their dreams were filled with ravening beastmen attacking in the night, with giant spiders webbing them in, with being lost eternally in this dismal forest, unable to ever escape.

The next morning found them more cheerful, however. The Sun had burnt through the clouds, and a cheerful green light fell on them as they walked. The wood looked almost elven in this light, rather than the haunt of beasts of Chaos. Little did they know that they did indeed pass through a section of the wood that was still blest with some magic of the fey folk, for they keep outposts still against the ravages of Chaos in many woods of the world.

They came upon de Swandle's camp earlier that day, showing that they had gained on him, and their spirits lifted so high at this that they even sand as they rode for a while.

Yet this mood was not to last. As morning changed to noon and noon to afternoon, they drew away from the elven enchantments and the sky dimmed again. Rounding a corner in the path, they suddenly found they way blocked by a huge spider web that stretched across the path. In the centre sat a giant spider, regarding them malevolently as the approached. Waltdorf drew a brace of pistols from his belt, and discharged them both into the spider's body. The spider shrieked and fell to the ground, dead.

"I did not think you would use such dishonourable weapons in my presence." Sir Robert said to Waltdorf, "We could have dispatched the creature without such means."

"In the war against Chaos, the end always justifies the means." Waltdorf retorted, "I use what weaponry I see fit, without reference to any foolish notions of honour."

"Remember, oh Witch finder, that I lead this party and that you have joined my quest. You are here at my sufference."

"Remember, oh Bretonnian, that you are a foreigner in this land, and my title will awe illiterate villages more than your scroll. You would do best not to cross me."

"I have seen no villages, illiterate or otherwise, since we left Bechafen. If you wish to ride this wood alone, then you may leave us, otherwise keep your black-powder weapons to yourself and do not inflict their curse on the rest of us."