Salvio Vitelli moved as quietly as his heavily-armoured form would allow, staying in the shadows as he moved through the shattered ruins. The clouds that covered the moon moved away all at once, and Salvio stopped in his tracks, pressed against the crumbled masonry of some once grand hall as his eyes scanned his surroundings, expecting a threat from every direction. When none came, and the clouds obscured the bright moonlight once again, he moved again. 

As his eyes grew accustomed to the half-lit darkness of the night once again, he could make out the flickering light of a fire, casting dancing shadows across the ruins. It was towards this light that he found himself drawn. Still clinging to the shadows, Salvio managed to find a vantage point above the fire and pressed himself against the cold stone as he looked down at the gathering below. He could make out a handful of figures, gathered around a crackling campfire. The very sight of the fire, and the warmth it promised, sent a shiver down the holy man’s spine. The night was chill, and though the padded tunic beneath his plate armour offered some warmth, his face was bitten by the cold wind, and his ageing bones felt night air keenly. 

Salvio was unsure of what his next move should be as he surveyed the group as best he could. Only one of them had the look of a hardened warrior, so it was to him that Salvio’s attention was first drawn. An old man, but even from his relative distance, Salvio could see that he cut an imposing figure, the armour that he wore obviously well-used, and the long sword strapped to his person was clearly more than just an accessory. 

The other figures puzzled Salvio, and he frowned slightly. What little remained of Silverwick was a wild and untamed place, inhabited only by the forsaken, and the long dead. And yet the figures around the fire did not appear to be either. Two women, one that Salvio guessed to be a Wrelmsman from her fair skin and angular features, and another that wore light armour. The other two members of the group, Salvio almost missed at first. A stout figure, no doubt a Northman, and a young girl, sitting close to the fire. Still frowning, Salvio hesitated for a moment, before reaching to clasp the amulet around his neck. 

Almost at once, he felt the spirit rush through his body again, and the voice, soft and distant, whispered in his ear.

[i][color=fff200]“Well done, Salvio. Silverwick, as I asked.”[/color][/i]

The man glanced down at the figures again, and the voice seemed to sense this, replying before Salvio could even attempt to ask the question. 

[i][color=fff200]“They are friends, Salvio. Lost and misguided souls that can be brought back to the light. This is your purpose.”[/color][/i]

Jaw set, Salvio moved to straighten up before the voice suddenly spoke again, losing it’s calming melodious tone for a moment, before seeming to catch itself. 

[color=fff200][i]“These souls, Salvio, will try to poison your mind. They will tell you that they are imbued with the spirits of the damned Shadow Legion, and they will try to convince you that I am a member of that unholy group as well. You must trust me. Agree with what they believe, they must not know that you are an avenging angel, sent to walk among them.”[/i][/color]

Salvio hesitated for a moment, noticeably wrestling with this new idea for a moment before releasing his grip on the talisman. The warming spirit rushed from his body, and the cold rushed back in all at once. The fire looked almost unbearably tempting, so Salvio rose to his feet, stepping out from behind the ruins he had been sheltering in and striding towards the group. Holding his hands out in greeting, Salvio managed a smile, despite his stomach turning at the thought of the evil arrayed before him. His voice was gruff when he spoke, but it cut across the crackling of the fire.

[b]“Greetings, friends. I hope I can share the warmth of your fire.”[/b]