A driving rain batters the city walls as its ancient gray stones stand in defiance of the Deepwood's reaching limbs and the beasts that stalk beneath them.

The deafening roar of the downpour hinders your ability to detect the sound of any approaching threats. You stay alert, noting the danger.

At the base of the walls you find jumbled piles of branches and bone collected together like nests.

In one of the scattered nests lies a jawbone. Most probably human. Woven into the twigs and branches of another nest is a cracked and broken mask. Feminine in design, the once full face mask of delicate ceramic now lies shattered.

What would a Thracian noblewoman's mask be doing here? The question is left unanswered as a glint catches your eye.

Why would anyone leave something so valuable on this side of the wall?