(Redcliffe village; 4 days earlier)

The evening is ending but the day is still bright. Sometime ago, sun was shining and now the moon is there on the dim blue sky. The moon's light appears to be  swallowed by the wild blue yonder. Slowly but surely, however, the azure, vault of heaven is will turn to pitch blackness. 

Before that darkness envelopes, Tomas is walking side by side with Baron Ser Perth. They were casually discussing about military affairs and now strolling along the street, turning at some junctions. Their destination is the Lloyd Tavern. 

Anglers are now going back home. Children were running around sometime ago but it is becoming harder to see any child. The women also mostly had taken dry clothes into their houses. 

It is without a doubt the end of the day.

Anglers, are becoming scarce in the street. Men are seen roaming in front of their wooden shacks.

Here and there, the two men are saluted by the patroling militiamen. 

In fact, those two who are highest ranked among the militiamen are strolling to monitor the performance of security by their underlings. The onlookers may perceive them as two armoured men strolling in their own sweet time but in truth this is part of their job routine outside the wartime.

Eventide gradually comes to bring them moonlight, to the time of reflection upon the day passed and awaiting day to be renewed by the light of the sun. It is when the birds sing goodnight until the stars bid them to dream under-wing. Each hue deepens in noble solemnity, finding unity in the dimming azure.

Just when the sky turns dark, several black circles appear near them.

"That's..." 

They stop and watch the peculiar occurrence. 

Suddenly, skeletal head protrudes from the hole like circles. 

"Aiiik!" 

A lone cry rings out. It is a strange sound that one might expect of a strangled chicken.

They turn towards the origin of that voice. It is a  good looking man.

The one who had made that uncharacteristic sound was Baron Curtis Blackwell, one of Redcliffe's best knights who leaps backward and his back hit a palisade. 

When they realize the reason Curtis had cried out, terror fills the hearts of everyone present, not just both of them but nearby militiamen. Indeed, it feels like they are dreaming.

***

Curtis Blackwell walks along the path between the shacks, proudly parading his clothes and sword at his hip. This head of a noble house has the habit showing off to the plebeians. 

"Good night, my lord!"

An angler who passes by salutes him. The men and women bow to him from their doors. 

Curtis grins. He really enjoys that. He feels that's his reason for living. To be respected by the commoners. 

From afar, he sees Baron Ser Perth and Tomas, the commoner who heads the militiamen. Militiamen are villagers who are trained to be professional soldiers. They are different from conscripted villagers who receive brief training. 

Curtis ignores them and resumes his showing off routine.

The daylight has dwindled to a barely perceptible lightening of the gloom. Each wall of palisades is identical to the next without an identifying marker of any kind. Standing in what could be any part of the village, Curtis Blackwell realizes his folly. He has been so certain he could do better than yesterday, that he would return home in half a day or less. There is no reason that left would be better than right, or ahead better than doubling back. He considered strolling until the dawn, but who knows what would come when he is made blind by the night. There are crystal lighting in the houses but there is no such lighting on the streets after all, other than moon and stars.

He ceases in his track when a black circle appears on red soil in front of him. 

In fact, there are three of such black holes surrounding him. 

His gut feeling is telling him to back off from spooky holes and he slowly retreats.

He looks to his right and notice the two men, Tomas and Baron Ser Perth beyond the palisades are standing and focusing to the ground before them.

What is happening, he asks himself.

He turns back to his front.

Baron Curtis Blackwell is one of the finest swordman in Redcliffe. He, along with Baron Harrith Drake, Baron Ser Perth, and his good friend, Baron Scott Aldiss  could surpass the likes of late Teagan Guerrin in duels.

A man like that now stands with eyes wide with terror, his gaze fixed on the things emerging from the ground.

The beings emerging from the ground are worthy of their caution and dread. The eyes of everyone from the entire Redcliffe Village are now  focused on the various points on the streets.

There is no doubt at all that they are monsters. They are skeletons sheathed in black plate armour with rusty swords in their hand and small bucklers on their other hands. 

They are about the height of average men, and their silhouette are utterly evil. It is as though a god had drawn forth the essence of violence and brutality from all humanity, concentrated it, and given it physical form. Their skeletal face had no expression, yet Curtis could all sense a brilliant, shining hatred burning in its empty eye sockets.

"Aiiik!"

He subconsciously lets out a pathetic yell, a strange sound almost like a strangled chicken. 

He feels his back a wooden blockade. The weight of his sturdy large body causes the palisade  to bend further. 

Shortly after that, several screams fill the air, all of them from either militiamen or villagers. Several anglers run into their house.

“Impossible! That’s―!!”

“Un-unbelievable! This is impossible!”

“Danger! An attack is coming! Defensive...!”

See Perth seems to glare at his underlings, all of whom are in panic.

“Silence!! Calm yourselves, all of you!!”

There is a sound of something falling to the ground. 

Curtis himself has collapsed to his knees upon the ground, his face pale and his body devoid of strength. Or rather, almost all of the militiamen in the vast village have ended up that way. Their pale faces are frozen in shock as they begin hyperventilating.

Impossible. How could this… no, no, it can’t be. "Are those skeletons? Why are they with armours and weapons? And they are everywhere?” His voice is loud enough that everyone could hear.

Something flashed through Curtis’s mind. He forgot himself and shouted angrily.

He no longer had the luxury of preserving his calm.

Then, he hears Ser Perth bellows in response to him.

"Skeletons? What do you mean by skeletons?! Curtis! Answer me! I’ve heard that name before, does it have anything to do with that creatures summoned by dark magic that’s rumoured to be banished by the church of three gods as forbidden magic?"

"I know nothing of such!" Curtis barks back at his fellow knight.

Indeed. It is dark magic. That is the name of a branch of forbidden magic that could plunge the Redcliffe into dire straits just by itself.

Nobody answers their query.

Curtis is staring with eyes wide open, gazing with watery eyes upon the skeletons that are striding towards him. 

The three undead foes strike him but he subconsciously rolls to his side. Their attacks had broken the palisade. 

It is no longer a nightmare, it is a reality as pain is felt when his shoulders hit the ground. 

He quickly rises with sword unsheathed. 

He had experience killing men and wild dogs but this is his first encounter with a different creature.

They swing their weapons again. Curtis dodges and gets in between them. He slashes their neck and exposed waist but they resume attacking him. He is forced to jump away. 

He glances to other places. Militiamen are running away and some of them holds their body in pain, probably due to wound inflicted by these monsters.

He realizes. Those monsters have no flesh and normal method won't inflict any wound on them. 

Even Ser Perth and Tomas at the other sides are hard-pressed by the foes' peculiar traits.

"Hoi. These skeletons have no flesh. You cannot injure them. Break their bones by bludgeoning weapons!" Curtis shouts as loud as he could.

"My lord. We don't have hammer!" Tomas shouts in response.

"Idiot. I am just saying sharp blades do them no harm. Break their bones by blunt objects. Even your fists, kicks and hilt of your swords!" 

Tomas and militiamen heeds his advice and change their way of fighting. 

Somehow, they manage to fight them off. Meanwhile, Curtis had destroyed a skeleton and another two were kicked away. 

They rise again. New circles appear and new skeletons emerge.

"New skeletons keep on emerging. Be careful!" Ser Perth shouts in panic. 

Curtis's gut feeling tells him they the skeletons will keep spawning until the sunrise.