Haise stumbled out of the woods, making her way down what once must have been a village road. She had spent enough time in the surrounding forest to ensure the village was in fact deserted, and confident in her solitude, she quickly acted to sate her most pressing need: her thirst.
Although her clothing was in tatters, Haise did not dare take the time to rummage through the empty shacks for apparel or supplies. Heading straight for the dilapidated stone well in the center of town, she grabbed a rusting pail that was tipped over on the ground next to the well. However, it had been too long since the well had been in use. The rope which at one point was attached to the pail was rotting and in pieces. Cursing to herself and looking around a bit wildly, Haise spotted some vines on a nearby tree. Pulling out a small knife, the scrawny young woman managed to cut a relatively long and thick vine, and attaching it to the pail handle, quickly lowered the bucket into the well.
Satisfied that the water she drew appeared clean with no visible pollution, Haise quickly tipped the bucket up to her mouth, cold water sliding down her cheeks and chin as she greedily slurped it up. Lowering the bucket to catch a breath, Haise debated drawing another bucketful and pouring it over her head, as she felt the grime and dirt of days running and hiding in the wilderness.
However, before she could do anything, a low sound startled her and caused her to drop the pail, which tipped and spilled its remaining contents over the ground. Hoofbeats, and not only a few. Panicking, Haise hurriedly dove into the nearest ramshackle house and scrunched herself up against the wall, holding her breath in terror. Her panic was so intense and her heart beating so violently that she did not particularly notice when she began to feel a little strange. She simply attributed it to her fear, and tried desperately to bring her body under control.
As the approaching riders reached the town square, it was obvious they were no mere rabble. The group moved with the ease of experience. Lord Basse Kravan grinned maliciously as he saw the pail with its makeshift rope lying on the still-damp ground.
"She's here!" Kravan ordered his platoon. "Search every hovel until you find the wench!" The men quickly dismounted and formed into three smaller groups, each of which ran towards a shack. One group happened to enter the house Haise had secreted herself in.
No one truly knew what happened next. All Kravan and his remaining men could hear were horrifying screams cut short, followed by something rolling out the entrance of the darkened hovel and coming to a rest before Kravan's steed. It was the terror-stricken head of what was formerly one of his men. Kraven's remaining entourage stood frozen.