With a war going on, finding a corpse wasn’t exactly out of the question. The woods were packed with soldiers on both sides, alive and dead. And as a thief, the dead were how you made your living. It was far from an honorable line of work, but you liked to think you were respectful about it.

The body you found was that of a young man, wrapped up in what resembled a cage of tree roots and flora, as if it had been there for a century, yet the body inside was practically pristine. Between the foliage you could make out the insignia of Vor’s military on his uniform. Atop the wild tangle of roots, there were a few crows perched, yet they weren’t picking at the eyes of the corpse like you’d expect. They almost seemed to be keeping vigil.

When dusk settled, the cold northern winds only whipped more fiercely at your chapped hands as you pulled at the branches, trying to free the body from their clutches, but it was no use. No amount of tugging at them caused the branches to bend or break.

You wouldn’t usually bother with a body that was more trouble than it was worth. But this one was too intriguing to ditch. You dug in your bag for your knife to cut the branches, the nearby crows began to squawk and one dove at you, forcing you to dodge its talons.

Your attempts to evade the crows caused you to stumble and dried leaves crunched beneath your feet as you moved. Despite the scuffle, you managed to get your knife out. With a shaky hand, you raised it to one of the roots.

When suddenly, a hand shot out from inside the twisted root cage to grasp your wrist, the wooden tendrils eagerly receding around it.

You let out a surprised noise as a low chuckle filled the air.

“Woah easy with the knife, yeah?”

The man, who until now you’d assumed was dead, sat up, the surrounding roots receding further. He looked up at you from the ground, his eyes like sapphires, a sly grin on his face.

“What is this, a robbery at knife point? Or has that tyrant king finally outlawed naps and you’re here to arrest me, hm?”