[i]Finally[/i].

It's easy enough to slip out when she isn't nearly crushing me any longer. Hmph.

She better not act this way once we're on the job. I have no interest in dealing with a snake who doesn't understand the idea of personal space while I'm trying to carry out my duty.

The man with the improvised weapon, Pete seems far more agreeable in terms of temperament. I brush my fingers through my pigtails with a huff.

"Rylia Ainsberg, Paladin of the Saint Salva Academy, in service of Reon," I say, placing my hands on my hips. There's no reason not to show some pride, after all. Saint Salva's Academy is the school from which many of Estival's most capable paladins and other religious figures received their education, after all, and serving Lady Reon is obviously a reason to be proud.

---Tch, the ingvarr too.

"I have no interest in drinking alcohol with you. Hmph!"

There's no reason for subtlety. This is purely an arrangement of convenience for the sake of carrying out my duty and putting a stop to whatever wicked presence is poisoning the livestock, and nothing else.

It won't be too long before we depart, anyway. Is she seriously thinking of getting drunk?

[hr]

If not for fact that it was being haunted by something unclean, the farmland outside of Keelsgraav would have been quite pleasant. With the sun setting by the time we've made our arrival, the fields are painted orange and the shadow of the nearby windmill has stretched out like a hand reaching towards the horizon.

The farmhouse is a large one, and the property expansive, with tall and peaked roofs and walls of white plaster and wood. The barn and surrounding fields for cattle, too, look quite sizable.

Apparently, despite these expansive lands to roam in, even the healthy ones haven't been willing to move very far from the barn anymore.

Hmph. Whatever wicked presence is lurking here, there's no reason for there to be any worry any longer. After all, crushing wickedness and dispelling evil is exactly what I've been trained for.

[@Rune_Alchemist][@HereComesTheSnow][@Octo][@ERode]

[hr]

In its heyday, Fort Magrial must have made for an impressive sight. It was characteristic of late period Talderian forts, for those who had knowledge of such structures. A rectangular outer wall formed its main defense, with watchtowers at each corner and flanking the main gate. Within, a larger tower stood tallest, and from the scale of the fort it must have housed a considerable garrison.

But those days had long since passed.

Wood had disintegrated and collapsed. The gate no longer had any doors. One of the walls had crumbled, allowing easy, direct access to the interior.

But these were not the only thing that demonstrated the fort had long since passed its glory days.

The fort's new occupants had clearly made themselves at home.

The sharpened spikes of wood planted in the ground bore only the skulls of animals, indicating at least that the goblins had not taken other victims in recent times. Such displays were meant to threaten and intimidate those who would approach the locations which they had taken up residency in. Other scattered items outside the walls of the fort seemed to be less for the purpose of threatening passersby and more because it was being used as a dumping ground. Smashed pottery and fragments of animal bone littered the ground in a haphazard fashion, having been discarded for lacking any interest for the goblins.

At the gate and the crumbled wall, wooden supports had been haphazardly bolted in place, with bones and pieces of pottery hanging on strings. If passed without consideration for the sound they would make, it would surely alert the fort's current occupants.

Aside from this, there was no current sign of the goblins, at least not visibly. It wasn't impossible that some were on watch duty, but at the moment they couldn't be sighted.

[@The Otter][@Psyker Landshark][@Eisenhorn][@Raineh Daze][@Animal]