The Beast lead its minions down the road until they arrived in the woods.
"My dark souls, my blood-born, my demons." The Beast spoke to the massive hoards of possessed undead. "Hear my plea, you are to search for my miscreant, he wears a red dunce cap, a blue cloak, and grows horns like that of your master. You are to destroy him on sight with extreme prejudice, and should you find the red and blue beauty, I want you all to bring her to me. Alive, and unharmed." It spoke with an air of fear and obsession. "Should you come across any locations with living inhabitants, do not harm them, as it was our deal with your nine-lived, streamer decorating, pumpkin growing, owner." The hoards looked at the Beast in a numb manner, clearly beings like this had no thought process whatsoever, no voice, no mind of their own. Just standing there aimlessly, clinging to every word of their temporary master. "I should think I am wasting my time with you, but who cares, you are after all, simple husks. But as I've said, do not harm any other residents of the unknown. But should you come across anything that may serve as a post, remain there and scare the inhabitants away, and should they resist, defend yourselves. I will take care of the rest." It said as it began to embark once more on the darkness that was the woods of the unknown, leaving the undead hoard to begin a death march throughout the Unknown.
"What can we do?! The skies aren't supposed to change color like that! What if the Beast cast some spell or something that tells it where we are?!" Wirt began to pace back and forth in a panic as Beatrice began to skim through the pages of the Tome.
"Calm down Wirt!" She yelled at him in frustration. "I swear, you're more annoying now than before your transformation." She mumbled until she finally landed on the page she was looking for. "Here!" She said, getting Wirt's attention back and showing him the page. "It says here that only certain spells can have this effect on the sky changing color, this one specifically is for...mass necromancy..." Beatrice's voice died down as she realized what that must have meant.
"Mass necromancy..?" Wirts pupils contracted. "You mean zombies?!" He exclaimed and in an attempt to hold the sides of his head, his palms were stabbed by the sharp ends of his horns. "Ow!" He exclaimed once more. "How are we supposed to fight that?!" He asked Beatrice, who turned to him, equally as worried.
"What the heck is a zombie?! And I don't know!" She threw her hands at her side. "Maybe the book will say what we can do about it, maybe it wasn't the Beast that summoned them?" She said, rather hopeful.
"Who else would summon the dead after what has happened?!" Wirt complained.
"God Wirt, shut up! You sound like a girl who just had her period!" Beatrice switched tactics in trying to calm the situation. Clearly answering calmly wasn't a solution with Wirt, so she figured taking a jab and his masculinity, would work better.
"..." It appeared that it did work.
"Now, it says here that should anyone come across an undead 'husk' they could destroy it simply the way one would a normal person in life through brute force. Anyplace that will incapacitate a living person could work, but to truly put one down, one must go for the heart and the head. Ok, seems simple enough."
"So this Axe should do just fine then, right?" Wirt asked as he pointed to the Woodsman's tool. Beatrice chuckled.
"Can you even wield that thing?" She teased. "You don't have the Woodsman's strength, if I recall."
"I can wield it!" He said defensively. "You've seen me hold other work tools before, remember Pottsfield? I did great work on that field." He said walking over to the axe.
"Plowing a field with a hoe and killing with a wooden axe are not the same thing Wirt!" She yelled. "Look, if you want to learn how to use that thing, let me show you how to hold it right at least." She quickly took it away from him. "First of all, you're not supposed to hold it by the bottom." She demonstrated. "You're supposed to hold it from the middle, when striking, it makes less strain on your wrist and hand overall. Got it?" Wirt nodded as she handed it back to him.
"How do you know this?" He asked, making sure he held it right.
"I...I was the oldest sibling, so a lot of the tasks fell on me when my parents couldn't do them immediately." She admitted. "I had a brother once who taught me too. Sometimes he did most of the work...but one winter he got sick...and we couldn't help him." She admitted, looking away. Wirt's lips gripped tightly in surprise and debated how to help her.
"I'm sorry to hear...What was his name?" He asked curiously, giving her time to adjust as she took a deep breath.
"Malakai." She looked back at him. "He was a good hunter, the best son a father could pass his legacy on to." She smiled in remembrance.
"Have you...come across him? In the unknown?" He wondered.
"No...That's the thing. He died before all of us, and we just don't know where he went. He never came home. I don't know." She informed. "It's alright. We just hope the best for him." She took Wirt by the hand. "Come on, pushover. We've been standing here for too long. Ducks didn't survive hunting season by sitting during hunting season. Well most of them didn't." She chuckled.
Wirt blushed as she held his hand. He took in the sensation of her smooth, frail hands underneath his twitching and sweaty ones.
"Will you quit being such a nervous nelly? You realize that sweat isn't what's coming out of your palms right?" She turned back to him. He looked back at her in confusion before looking down at their hands. He soon realized that whatever bodily fluid that secreted naturally from his body was still going to be oil.
"Oh gosh! I'm so sorry, Beatrice." He pulled his hand away, much to her disappointment.
"Just keep up." She said as she continued to lead the way.
Deeper than before into the Unknown.