Soul Reaver attempts to call out towards Gulver, but he is already striding into the Village.

Cursing inwardly, Soul Reaver hurries forwards to catch up with the Grey One.

He finds a frightened looking young villager, holding a pitchfork in Gulver's direction, more as a ward than a weapon. Soul Reaver quickly steps between them before any violence can ensue.

"Hold, young one. Please, do not be afraid. This is Gulver."

The villager, who seems to be only slightly older than a boy, lowers the pitchfork somewhat.

"He looks strange... grey as death and his eyes are those of a Daemon! Please, we want no more trouble here..."

Soul Reaver shakes his head.

"Do not worry, young one. He will not harm you. His appearance is somewhat unothodox, but he comes from far-away lands where people appear different than you or I."

Soul Reaver finally takes a chance to look around. He notices the source of the smoke he had seen - one of the cottages has recently been gutted by fire. Two blackened, crude wall still stand, but the rest of the house has collapsed in on itself, leaving only a pile of ash and charred wood. A thin line of smoke still twirls up from amongst the ruins.

Of more concern is the yard of the nearby church. Soul Reaver cannot help but notice several freshly-dug graves, yawning open and awaiting their sad cargo. Two gravediggers toil on another hole, sad looks on their dirt-streaked faces.

Soul Reaver looks back at the boy.

"Tell me... what has happened here?"

The boy shakes his head.

"It is not for me to say. I'll get my father."

The boy runs off to get his father, while Soul Reaver stands in the midst of the village, sensing the sadness of the small community all around him.

Eventually, a tall, thin man with a subble-covered face walks cautiously out to meet Soul Reaver. His eyes reveal that he has been both hardened and saddened from some recent loss.

"What do you want here, Outlander? We have had enough suffering as of late without more of your kind adding to it..."