Sir Frank stared into the glowing orange eye for a long moment, before the watcher resumed its patrol along the treeline outside Braemar. The clockwork thing had registered his presence, but did not approach. It seemed unconcerned. Or perhaps it had transmitted warning of an intruder, and the old knight was already being surrounded. No, that shouldn't be. They were minions of the Oracle. She watched, but remained neutral. She was interested in what was happening in the Vale. They were doing the same thing he was doing. He would not remain in this spot. He'd find a better place to observe the village. He'd have to figure out what was going on. And avoid the undead.
