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set up all over the area, though most had been clustered either up on the side of a hill near where he waited or down in the lower lands, close to what appeared to be a mill of some sort. The hut where he had spent the last few days locked away was down there. He had gotten his first look at the village when Yiral had led him up to where he now stood, waiting for whatever test they intended for him.
    “They have found a reasonable challenger to prove your wisdom,” Yiral whispered, standing off to his side as he waited. She had escorted him up the hill and told him to stand there until the time was right—from what Raeln had gathered, he was not allowed out on his own. Still, he was in no position to try to escape just yet, so he was happy to follow her obediently. For now.
    As Yiral led him up the hill to a large open space, a dozen other Turessians had come out and gathered in a ring around them and silently watching. Like Yiral, they wore black robes, boots, and gloves, all of a very simple in cut. Some had completely shaved heads under their hoods, though not all. Many eyed Raeln with suspicion, though a few of the younger children watched him with curiosity, whispering questions to their parents. He had seen similar looks from his own village’s children the first time a vicious little kobold had wandered through, scaring them all.
    Standing there waiting, Raeln had plenty of time to study these people. They did not have the maniacal look many of the Turessians he had seen in the south. The children appeared as normal as any, aside from the tattoos that marked some of those nearing their teens. Were it not for those markings and the lack of physical contact among anyone—including parents and children old enough to walk—he could have let himself believe they were people of any other land.
    Beyond the Turessians, a second ring of “people” kept drawing his eye. These were similarly dressed, though they did not watch him—or anything else, for that matter. They were undead, kept so nearly intact that if he did not look at their eyes, he might not have known they were dead at all. The walking corpses followed families around, and he could see resemblances that hinted at them being the elderly relatives of the still-living people in the circle around him. Each time his eyes drifted back to them, his stomach clenched as he tried to prevent himself from remembering the thousands of undead that had overwhelmed Lantonne. A nearly instinctual urge to attack them forced him to ignore that group.
    Farther down the hill, a large group of people were watching in a more disorganized throng. These were not just humans like the Turessians around him, but the group contained halflings, dwarves, elves, and even a few marked Turessians. They were the slaves or slave-caste, as Yiral called them. They came no closer than about fifty feet away, though Yoska and Dalania stood at the front of that group, watching him nervously. A single Turessian stood between them and the main group of humans, acting as some kind of barrier to them approaching farther. Apparently someone had reasoned out that either Raeln might try to go to them or they would try to get to him.
    “So how does this work?” Raeln asked, flexing his fingers nervously. His stomach hurt terribly even after days of rest, but the chance to somehow free himself of these people was enticing. If he were very lucky, he might find a way to run with his friends and escape into the woods nearby. Dalania’s magic might hide them from anyone pursuing, giving them time to reach deeper sections of the forest.
    “Your challenger will come to you, and the two of you must prove your wisdom. I will be interested to see if there is anything you can manage here. We do not expect you to win, but if you can prove to be capable, there is a chance that someone will take you on as an apprentice. That is unlikely. At best, expect that if you can prove yourself, you will be elevated to