As the moon reaches its zenith, the sound of felled timbers echoes over the roadways and the lake, accompanied by the smells of ozone and burning wood. A few tendrils of black smoke creep up the ebon sky. By dawn's arrival, all that remains of the hillfort are a few scattered objects and a crumbling wall. The sign is missing, its stand is smashed to pieces, and the occupants of the fortification are nowhere to be seen.