Nestled along a small creek and half-swallowed by brambles, the hut of Sir Dembrudell sits in silent collapse, its moss-covered roof sagging under years of rain and rot. The structure is barely intact—twisted beams, crumbling stonework, and windows long shuttered and sealed by vines. Inside, the air hangs heavy with stillness and the scent of damp wood. A single wooden chair rests beside the cold hearth, and in it, the knight’s remains sit peacefully.