Two eyes come to face you, inset within the horrific visage of the helm. They are human, but you see no life in their pupils. The rest of the face is obscured by darkness and metal. A deep voice growls from within.

-"You're the one I requested for the defense of the stockade. Come, you're needed. You must know we're short on men"  He points at the door.

- "It's the second tunnel to the left, exiting this"

He produces a handaxe and a key

-"You are to watch over a..delicate...innmate. You will be assisted of course"

He curls the clawed finger but points at your heart instead.

"He must not die. You understand? I fear we will be attacked tonight...That is why I chose you. You're a good fighter, Vanduvius Slash recommended you personally" He breathes heavily and exhales sharply.

"There are abodes reserved for you in this very inn. Downstairs, you will see a bed made. You may ask for food and drink. You must be tired, but do not rest yet - The outernicals clash at the frontier like wild dogs, and our men can naught hold them for long. You will see soon the purpose of this shabby little bastion"