The knight.

The bounty hunter walked over to the knight, causing them to look up, the shadowed visor hiding their countenance. “I'm going inside the manor. I need muscle to watch my back.” Artur told them.

“Payment?” The knight asked, his voice echoing within the helm, in a far more distorted manner then even his own. It was almost, inhuman.

Artur nodded and handed them a small pouch of gold. “We start now.”

The knight took the gold, and attached it to their belt, before putting away the oiled rag they had been using. Standing up, they were about the same height, though the armor made them seem bigger. The knight slid his sword into their sheath at the left hip, and nodded, ready to follow.

Heading out of town and through the dark forest, which seemed to be cursed in someway. Dark and foreboding, twisted in ways he couldn't see, or fathom. The two of them walked in silence, heading toward the large manor on the hill, that overlooked the countryside.

The Manor was as enormous as he remembered it. Practically a castle, with high stone walls, and three floors of vast rooms, and hallways. The two of them walked through the open rusted gate, into the dead lawn that rested in front of marble stairs leading up to a set of huge double doors. Walking up the stairs and heading through the large double doors, they found the vestibule a mess, with statues, and paintings broken and scattered across the floor. His home had fallen into shambles, but more than that, it was like a storm had rampaged through it.

Ignoring the side doors, he walked underneath the balcony, and through a door beneath the stairs, to the left. Walking into a small courtyard, that was open to the sky, he noted that his father's statue was still standing. A younger version of the man he knew, dressed in royal attire, the sculpture had caught the self made lord's arrogance on his countenance perfectly.

Beyond the statue two doors ten feet apart, would lead into the gaming room. A room once intended for fun and games with friends during parties, that had descended over the years into bouts of decadence. Artur had snuck in the room and found his father's stash of brandy in some of the cabinets. The bounty hunter glanced between the two doors. Such an arbitrary decision.