(Act 2: A man standing in a forest.)

"Moths, but what kind of moths could achieve such a thing?" the Captain asked
himself as if saying that out loud would make it clearer. What kind of moths
would destroy a scroll this way? Paper intact, only the parts with ink gone.
Captain forced a short laugh as he thought how he might seem to an outsider,
all dressed up like a soldier - a sword in other hand ready to defend him
against any imaginable foes - and a paper scroll in other. A paper scroll that
looked more like a lace cloth or a veil he remembered young girls used to wear
on midsummer at his home village. Laughing, yes - this was ridiculous even tho
he know there was nothing funny about it.

He had met a runner shortly before. The runner had told him briefly about some
bad news from the east. He had told Captain would receive further instructions
later on when Shadowkeep's pigeons were set loose and he would get his
personal objectives from the Guild. And now, clenching an empty scroll of lacy
paper in his hands, "These, are my orders!" he laughed.

"Yes, Sir! Very much so, Sir! I'll get right on it, Sir!" the Captain yelled
to his own disillusion alone in the middle of the woods. He had recognized
Jander's signet on the scroll, nothing more. No text - no words - no nothing.
Just a red signet on top, green ribbon around it and all the parts with
supposed news or orders gone, like eaten away. Deteriorated. Gone. One thing
was for sure nonetheless. If Jander from bards' guild sent him a pigeon
carrying a scroll, it was urgent. And it was bad.

"Captain, focus .." he tried to calm himself. He wasn't really a captain of
anything or anyone. The nickname had been a joke. Smallest of the small
children in his home village. Always trying to keep up with the older children
and their ways. Elder had started to call him Captain, as if that would
encourage not so much the little one himself, but others around him to mark
his potential. Had that worked or not - he had been known as the Captain
since.

"I must haste myself to the old keep at the Inn, yes?" he reassured himself
what he knew was the only reasonable thing to do. "Not to Shadowkeep, but away
and fast" he continued, like he would even need more signs about what was
going on. Something evil had come to 'keep and the balance of the world was
shifting. He felt it right away when he had woken up in the middle of the
night. Has it been a scream - or a scream in his dream? Or both. Something.
The night was of faulty color, black as always but somehow different. Like
blacker, pitch black that was not so common this time of year. It was still
few hours to sunrise but the sky should have already had a hint of a morning
to it. Not this time. Black.