Alvinnu\u00e9 pushed past the canvas flap, his dark silhouette briefly outlined by the lanterns behind him. Inside, the barracks tent was cramped but orderly\u2014bedrolls aligned, weapons polished and resting nearby. Gorimund sat on a low stool, sharpening the edge of his axe with calm precision, the rasp of stone against metal steady and familiar. Brynda stood nearby, adjusting the strap on her armor, her red hair tied back tightly, her green eyes catching the firelight like living embers. Both looked up as Alvinnu\u00e9 entered. For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Then Brynda smiled\u2014a tired, honest thing\u2014and said, \u201cTook you long enough, Shadow Walker.\u201d Her relief was noticeable in the softening of her shoulders, in the way her hand paused mid-buckle. The tension she had been carrying seemed to ease, if only a little, now that he was standing before her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The canvas rustled again as Alvinnu\u00e9 stepped fully into the tent, and the soft clinking of armor turned toward him. One by one, the other Geldanian soldiers noticed his arrival and began gathering around, their faces a mixture of curiosity, relief, and anticipation. These were men and women hardened by recent battles, yet even they leaned in at the sight of the shadow-cloaked warrior.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Gorimund rose from his stool with a grunt and strode over. \u201cBack from the lion\u2019s den, are you?\u201d he said, clasping Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s shoulder with a calloused hand. \u201cDidn\u2019t doubt you for a second.\u201d But the dwarf\u2019s face, worn and weathered, betrayed the truth\u2014he had<\/em> worried, and deeply. The flicker in his eyes said as much.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The circle of soldiers fell quiet, waiting, expectant. Alvinnu\u00e9 glanced at Brynda, then at Gorimund, and then to the others. He hesitated, his gaze darkening beneath his loose black hair. Shadows flickered across his face as the lanterns swayed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cI gave General Marus my full report,\u201d he said at last, his voice low and even. \u201cEvery word.\u201d A pause. Then, with the quiet certainty of someone who had walked through fire, he added, \u201cWhatever comes our way\u2026 General Marus will lead us out of it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Everyone stood in silence for a while, the weight of Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s words sinking into the tent like a slow, gathering storm. No one dared ask what he had seen or what horrors his report to General Marus contained. They didn\u2019t need to. The look on his face\u2014the stiffness in his posture, the haunted cast to his eyes\u2014spoke more clearly than any tale he could offer. Whatever he had witnessed, it had shaken him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda broke the silence, her voice softer now, but edged with dread. \u201cDid you see them?\u201d she asked. \u201cThe Army of the Undead?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s gaze hardened, and his fists clenched at his sides. \u201cYes,\u201d he said. \u201cThousands of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund\u2019s brow furrowed in disbelief. The old dwarf\u2019s hand instinctively went to his shield, fingers tightening as they curled around the rim. \u201cSo quick?\u201d he muttered. \u201cI thought we had more time\u2014days at least.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 shook his head grimly. \u201cI thought so too. But they\u2019re here. They\u2019re already marching.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda stepped forward, the firelight catching the worried gleam in her eyes. \u201cBut the Undead Army had to pass through the Sariyaz Kingdom,\u201d she said, her voice rising. \u201cDid their army already fall?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund’s expression darkened. His eyes grew distant, as though he were staring far beyond the canvas walls into something only he could see. \u201cAye,\u201d he murmured. \u201cThat seems to be the case. The Sariyaz fell\u2026 and with it, all hope of slowing them down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s voice sharpened, edged with frustration and urgency. \u201cGorimund, you\u2019ve lived far longer than any of us. Has anything like this happened before? Any sign\u2014any omen\u2014that this was coming?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The dwarf\u2019s face twisted in thought. He muttered to himself in old Dwarvish, eyes narrowing, brow heavy with age and memory. After a long moment, he looked up. His voice was grave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNot in my lifetime, lad. But\u2026\u201d He hesitated, drawing in a slow breath. \u201cThere\u2019s a legend. One that speaks of this\u2026 an army of the dead marching across the lands, unstoppable, their numbers growing with every fallen kingdom. It was said to have happened ten thousand years ago.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda\u2019s composure wavered. Her shoulders tensed, and her breath caught in her throat as the weight of Gorimund\u2019s words settled over her. The mention of ancient legend, of kingdoms already fallen, pressed hard against her faith. Her green eyes, once so full of fire, now shimmered with fear.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Seeing this, Gorimund stepped beside her and placed a steady hand on her shoulder. His voice, though rough and weathered, carried the strength of unshakable resolve. \u201cI\u2019ve fought alongside every man and woman in this tent,\u201d he said. \u201cAnd I tell you, there are no better warriors in all of Tarmynia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He glanced around at the gathered soldiers\u2014some young, some scarred by old battles, all listening. \u201cWhatever filth rises from the earth, whatever darkness crawls toward us\u2026 it will be dealt with here, in Zorim Fields.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A murmur stirred in the tent, soft at first but swelling like a tide. \u201cThen we fight,\u201d came a voice from the back. \u201cWe don\u2019t let them take Zorim Field,\u201d said another. \u201cWe don\u2019t let them take this land.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund nodded grimly, the firelight gleaming off the steel edge of his forgefire axe. His voice was low, but it cut through the rising clamor like iron through cloth. \u201cAye. We hold the line, no matter the cost.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Suddenly, a horn echoed through the night, its deep, resonant call rippling across the camp like a thunderclap. The sharp blast shattered the fragile calm within the barracks, snapping soldiers from their thoughts and stirring urgency into their veins. Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s heart quickened, a steady drum beneath his ribs, and he straightened instinctively, the shadows in his eyes sharpening into steel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He cast a swift glance at Brynda and Gorimund. Both were already rising, their movements purposeful and unhesitating as they headed toward the tent\u2019s flap, ready to meet whatever awaited beyond.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Without a word, they stepped into the cold night, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and the distant rhythm of marching feet. Around them, soldiers hurried toward the center of the encampment, armor clinking in hurried cadence, voices low but charged with anxious energy. The shadow of the undead loomed close\u2014there was no time left for waiting or wonder. The battle was upon them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9, Brynda, and Gorimund moved steadily through the encampment, their boots crunching softly on the frost-hardened earth. Around them, soldiers stood in tight clusters, faces shadowed beneath helmets, eyes reflecting the flickering fires scattered like watchful sentinels across the camp. A charged silence hung in the air\u2014broken only by the sharp clang of weapons being readied and the measured tightening of armor straps. Every man and woman shared the same look: a mixture of grim determination, simmering fear, and the fierce readiness to meet the coming storm head-on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As they neared the center of the camp, Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s sharp eyes found General Marus standing tall amidst the gathered soldiers, his broad frame a steady pillar against the flickering campfires. The general\u2019s face was unreadable\u2014stern, cold, and calculating\u2014with eyes that seemed to weigh every man and woman before him like pieces on a board.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Noticing Alvinnu\u00e9, Brynda, and Gorimund joining the ranks, General Marus stepped up onto a makeshift wooden platform, the murmurs of the assembled soldiers quieting instantly. His voice, deep and commanding, cut through the night air as he began his rallying speech.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMen and women of Geldanos,\u201d he said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, \u201cour kingdom is young\u2014only five centuries have passed since we carved our place in this land. Though small, we have fought fiercely, shaping our destiny against the tides of larger, older nations.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He paused, letting his words settle. \u201cGeldanos values structure, order, and tradition. We are not a people driven by morality alone, but by a strict code and a legal framework that guides our society. Our strength lies in stability and pragmatism.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus\u2019s eyes burned with quiet resolve. \u201cOur army may be small, and our lands known for wheat and grain, but it is through discipline and unyielding will that we have survived\u2014and it is with that same resolve we will face what comes. We fight not just for survival, but for the right to shape the future of Tarmynia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A brief silence followed General Marus\u2019s final words, thick with the weight of what lay ahead. Then, from somewhere in the ranks, a soldier raised their voice: \u201cThen we hold the line!\u201d Another answered, louder this time: \u201cWe don\u2019t let them take Zorim Field!\u201d The cry spread like wildfire through the gathered warriors\u2014helmets were lifted, fists clenched, blades drawn halfway from their sheaths. The murmurs became a chant, rising from the cold earth like a promise: \u201cWe hold the line! We hold the line!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus let the sound swell before raising a single hand. The camp fell quiet, as if the very air awaited his command. His voice, lower now but no less resolute, followed like a drumbeat. \u201cThen steel yourselves. The Undead come\u2014and they will find no fear here. Only fire.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n As the echoes of Marus\u2019s words faded, the soldiers began to move\u2014not in panic, but with practiced intent. A wide circle formed at the center of the camp, just before the command platform. One by one, the warriors of Geldanos removed a gauntlet and pressed their bare hand to the soil beneath them. It was an old tradition\u2014The Grounding\u2014a silent pledge of loyalty to the land they were sworn to defend. No words were spoken. Each soldier closed their eyes, letting the cold earth ground their fear and awaken their resolve. From the youngest squire to the oldest veteran, all took part. Even General Marus knelt, placing his palm to the soil without ceremony. The message was clear: Geldanos holds the line\u2014not by numbers, but by oath.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n Then came The Cloaking.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Squires moved swiftly among the ranks, bearing armfuls of folded war cloaks. Each was a dark, regal blue, the color of midnight skies above Geldanos, and each bore the embroidered lion\u2019s head above two golden wheat stalks\u2014a symbol of strength and sustenance. As each cloak was draped across a soldier\u2019s shoulders, faint lines of mana shimmered at the seams. These were no mere garments; they were woven with defensive wards and enduring enchantments, passed down from elder mages to the war tailors of the capital.<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus donned his last. \u201cThese cloaks,\u201d he said, voice low and firm, \u201care not for glory. They are for legacy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus stood tall upon the raised platform, his dark blue war cloak billowing gently in the cold wind. He looked out across the sea of cloaked figures\u2014his army, grounded in oath and cloaked in legacy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His voice rang out, sharp and steady: Like the pull of a single thread through taut cloth, the soldiers broke from the circle with swift discipline. No drumbeat. No roar. Just the clinking of steel, the rustle of enchanted cloaks, and the rising breath of war.<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus raised his hand in a measured gesture, signaling Alvinnu\u00e9, Brynda, and Gorimund to step forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n The trio advanced promptly, their expressions solemn, their footsteps steady.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cFollow me,\u201d the general said, his tone firm and authoritative. \u201cWe will speak in the command tent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Without further word, he turned and began walking toward the large pavilion at the heart of the camp, its flaps stirring in the breeze like banners before a coming storm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n They entered the command tent, where the air was heavy with the scent of parchment, wax, and steel. A large table dominated the center, strewn with maps, markers, and coded dispatches. Lanterns cast a steady glow, illuminating the figures already assembled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus gestured toward the gathered leaders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou will know the faces of those who shape this war,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n He turned first to a sharp-eyed woman clad in a dark cloak, her silver hair tied in a braided crown. \u201cBaroness Yenn \u2014 chief strategist. No battle is planned without her counsel.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Next, he motioned to a tall, robed figure whose eyes glinted with quiet power. \u201cCount Marmo, master of the arcane \u2014 chief mage of the Geldanos host.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Standing beside Marmo was a broad-shouldered man with a scar across his brow. His armor bore the dents of many campaigns. \u201cCount Varno, commander of the infantry \u2014 his men hold the line when all else falters.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n To Varno\u2019s right stood a nobleman in polished plate, his crimson cape draped with care. \u201cDuke Tomas, leader of the cavalry. He breaks the enemy\u2019s formation like a hammer upon stone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Finally, Marus gestured to a slim, composed man with parchment in hand and a short sword at his side. \u201cAdjutant Cenric, my war secretary and the steward of every order that leaves this tent.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked back at Alvinnu\u00e9 and Brynda. \u201cThese are the voices of war in Geldanos. And now, they will know yours.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda stepped forward with practiced precision and saluted each of the assembled leaders in turn, her posture steady and resolute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 shifted uneasily under the weight of their gazes, feeling the scrutiny like a tangible pressure. Every eye in the tent seemed fixed on him, measuring, weighing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund let out a low chuckle, his gaze flicking between the leaders with familiarity and ease. \u201cThey mean business,\u201d he murmured quietly. \u201cBut I\u2019ve known them long enough to read beneath those stern faces.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Baroness Yenn\u2019s stern expression softened, and a rare, genuine laugh escaped her lips as she regarded Gorimund. \u201cAh, Gorimund, your presence is a welcome reminder of steadiness in uncertain times.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She then turned gracefully, inclining her head in a respectful bow toward Alvinnu\u00e9 and Brynda. \u201cAnd to you, new champions, I extend my greetings. May your resolve prove as unwavering as your courage.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Count Marmo inclined his head solemnly. \u201cYour willingness to stand against the tide of darkness honors us all.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Count Varno\u2019s voice was firm and steady. \u201cWe are grateful for your commitment. The infantry will rely on every ally we can muster.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Duke Tomas, one of the highest-ranking nobles in the tent, stepped forward and approached Alvinnu\u00e9 with deliberate calm. His eyes met Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s with measured respect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cKing Meldros speaks very highly of you,\u201d Duke Tomas said, voice low but carrying weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda glanced at Alvinnu\u00e9, eyebrows raised. \u201cYou never told me how you know the king. What\u2019s your story?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 shifted slightly, eyes flickering toward General Marus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marus answered before he could speak. \u201cAlvinnu\u00e9 did not come by that favor lightly. He fought through countless beasts on the road, enduring trials most would not survive.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He paused, voice dropping to a tone that drew the attention of everyone nearby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAnd he defeated a half-giant chief\u2014an infamous bandit leader\u2014single-handedly. All to deliver a dire warning of the Army of the Undead\u2019s march to King Meldros himself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda\u2019s eyes widened, breath catching. \u201cA half-giant? That\u2019s\u2026 incredible.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund chuckled softly, shaking his head with a grin. \u201cI\u2019ve sparred with Alvinnu\u00e9. If he can best a half-giant chief, then I\u2019d wager no one else around here could stand against him either.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 offered a modest nod but said quietly, \u201cIt was necessary. There was no other way.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda looked at him thoughtfully. \u201cYou carry more than just skill, then. You carry a burden.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marus placed a firm hand on Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s shoulder. \u201cAnd that burden has earned you the respect of kings and soldiers alike.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes steady on the trio before him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere is a special mission,\u201d he began, his voice grave. \u201cOne that falls beyond the reach of legions and beyond the weight of our banners.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9, Brynda, and Gorimund straightened instinctively, sensing the shift in tone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThe war council has exhausted every strategy,\u201d Marus continued. \u201cWe\u2019ve weighed every maneuver, every deployment of spell and steel. And in every scenario, one truth remains constant\u2014none lead to victory.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n A silence fell over the tent, heavy and absolute.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNone,\u201d he repeated. \u201cExcept one.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He turned, pacing slowly before the table of maps. \u201cThe undead have no fear. No morale to break. No supply lines to sever. They advance without pause, without hesitation, guided by a single will.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He faced them fully now. \u201cThat will belongs to the Lich\u2014Commander of the Army of the Undead. Destroy him, and the army will collapse. His sorcery binds them. Sever the source, and they will fall like ash in the wind.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda\u2019s hand went to the hilt of her sword. \u201cYou mean\u2026 assassination?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marus nodded. \u201cPrecisely. We need a blade that moves unseen, a strike where none expect it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His gaze settled on Alvinnu\u00e9. \u201cYour Shadow Arts, your discipline\u2014your survival against the odds\u2014make you the only one who can do this. With your aid, we believe the impossible may yet be done.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund exhaled slowly. \u201cInfiltrate the Army of the Undead… Sounds mad. But I\u2019ve followed mad plans before, and this one\u2014this one might just work.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Marus nodded once. \u201cYou will not go in blind. You\u2019ll be given all the intelligence we have on the Lich\u2019s movements, fortifications, and magical defenses. But once you cross into enemy lines, you will be alone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked at each of them in turn. \u201cI will not order this. I ask it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9\u2019s gaze lingered on the map before him, its inked lines tracing out a kingdom under siege. After a long pause, he spoke\u2014softly, but with clarity.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThere\u2019s truly no other way?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n His question hung in the air like a blade drawn but not yet swung. His voice held no defiance\u2014only the burden of understanding what such a mission demanded.<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus met his eyes with solemn resolve. \u201cIf there were another path, I would have taken it before this council convened. I would have sent battalions, mages, emissaries to the gods if it meant sparing you this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stepped closer, voice low but unwavering. \u201cBut we face an enemy that does not sleep, does not bleed, and does not fear. And its commander is not a warlord\u2014but a sorcerer who was once human, now something else entirely.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda watched Alvinnu\u00e9 with furrowed brows, her grip tightening on the strap of her scabbard. \u201cWhat he\u2019s asking isn\u2019t small. This is a shadow mission through death\u2019s own ranks.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund folded his arms, eyes narrowed beneath his brow. \u201cStill, the lad has the best chance of any of us. I\u2019ve seen him vanish from my very sight, strike from angles no soldier would expect. If anyone can do it\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 looked again at the map. At the black mark where the Lich was last seen. At the army that moved without rest or mercy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n As Alvinnu\u00e9 stood in silence, weighing the impossible, a quiet step sounded beside him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda placed a hand gently on his shoulder. \u201cYou\u2019re not going alone,\u201d she said. Her voice was calm but resolute. \u201cIf this is the path we must walk to save the living, then I walk it with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She turned to General Marus. \u201cI am a sworn paladin of Corinthia. My sword is bound not just to oaths, but to purpose. If the Lich commands death, then let me bring light into his darkness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Before the general could respond, Gorimund let out a grunt and stepped forward with a faint smile tugging at his beard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWell, seems I\u2019m the only one here without a flair for dramatics,\u201d he said with a wink. \u201cBut I\u2019ve seen too much and fought too long to sit this out.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He thumped his fist against his breastplate. \u201cYou\u2019ll need strength to hold the line when things get ugly. And someone to knock down a few bones while you sneak through the shadows.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus looked at the three of them\u2014the shadow warrior, the paladin, the shieldbearer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThis mission is voluntary,\u201d he said again, though there was a quiet pride in his tone now. \u201cYet you\u2019ve chosen it with clearer eyes than many choose glory.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He stepped back and gave a single, formal nod. \u201cThen so be it. You shall be our hidden edge\u2014the blade in the dark, the hope they will never see coming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 turned to Brynda and Gorimund, his expression unreadable\u2014caught somewhere between concern and deep respect.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cAre you sure?\u201d he asked quietly. \u201cThis path may lead into death itself. You don\u2019t owe me your lives.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda met his gaze without hesitation. \u201cIt isn\u2019t about owing. It\u2019s about choosing. And I choose to stand with you\u2014till the end, wherever the shadows take us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund gave a small nod, his voice low and steady. \u201cAye. I\u2019ve walked dark roads before. I\u2019ll walk this one with you\u2014blade, shield, and heart.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 inhaled slowly, then bowed his head in silent acceptance. \u201cThen we go together. In shadow or in light.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus, who had remained silent as they exchanged their vows, stepped forward with finality.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGood,\u201d he said, his voice firm as steel. \u201cThen we begin preparations at once.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Baroness Yenn stepped forward, her fingers unfurling a detailed map across the war table. Steel markers held down its edges as her eyes scanned the terrain with the calm precision of a seasoned tactician.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cOur scouts have identified a vulnerability along the northern ridge,\u201d she began. \u201cA narrow ravine\u2014steep, treacherous, but largely overlooked during the third hour of nightfall when the undead patrols rotate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She traced the route with a gloved finger. \u201cYou\u2019ll move under cover of darkness, using the natural terrain to avoid detection. The breach leads directly into the Lich\u2019s rear position\u2014close enough to strike if you remain unseen. Once inside, you\u2019ll have one chance. No retreat. No second attempt.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Her gaze sharpened. \u201cThe undead cannot be fooled twice.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Count Marmo approached next, carrying a blackwood box etched with arcane symbols. He opened it carefully to reveal flasks, their contents glowing faintly with violet light.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThese are concentrated mana draughts,\u201d he said. \u201cDistilled from the High Wells of Tharmatur. Each contains enough energy to cast a major spell or recover from the brink of collapse.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He looked to Alvinnu\u00e9 and Brynda. \u201cUse them only when the moment demands. Magic has limits, but so does time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Count Varno stepped forward, followed by seven warriors\u2014four elite infantry clad in reinforced leathers and three archers with grey-fletched quivers and wolfskin mantles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cThey\u2019ll escort you to the breach and hold your exit,\u201d Varno said simply. \u201cEach is handpicked. Trust them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Lastly, Duke Tomas stepped into the center of the room, a quiet fire behind his eyes.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cMy riders will draw the undead cavalry to the lowlands before your departure. We\u2019ll make noise. Start fires if we must. They\u2019ll chase us, thinking we\u2019re the spear. But you\u2014\u201d he gestured to the trio, \u201c\u2014you are the dagger.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n General Marus folded his arms and surveyed the gathered force. \u201cYou\u2019ve been given every advantage we can spare. No kingdom stands on its own now. You carry the hopes of all Tarmynia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The leaders began to disperse, returning to their duties, but the flickering lanterns within the command tent cast a stillness over the space where Alvinnu\u00e9, Brynda, and Gorimund remained. Outside, the steady sounds of a war camp preparing for night hummed like distant thunder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 looked to his companions, the weight of what lay ahead pressing down on his chest like a second sword.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cWe may not return,\u201d he said quietly. \u201cYou both know that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda gave a faint smile\u2014not one of comfort, but of conviction. \u201cThat was always true. Every time we raised our weapons. If this is the last path we walk, let it be for something greater than ourselves.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n She stepped closer, her hand brushing briefly against her sword hilt. \u201cAnd if I fall\u2026 strike true. Make it count.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund grunted, adjusting the strap of his shield. \u201cI didn\u2019t follow you two for a funeral march. I followed you because you\u2019re the only ones I trust to see it through.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n He cracked a lopsided grin. \u201cBesides, I\u2019ve got bets riding on which one of us strikes the Lich first. I don\u2019t plan to lose.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 allowed himself a rare, fleeting smile. \u201cThen may the shadows favor our steps.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Brynda drew her blade halfway from its scabbard, and held it up in solemn salute. \u201cTill the end\u2014where the shadows take us.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Gorimund echoed her words, raising a fist. \u201cTill the end.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n Alvinnu\u00e9 gave a single nod. \u201cTill the end.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n From the far end of the tent, General Marus watched them in silence, then spoke one final word\u2014firm and resolute:<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cGo.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Alvinnu\u00e9 pushed past the canvas flap, his dark silhouette briefly outlined by the lanterns behind<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3332","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3332","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3332"}],"version-history":[{"count":10,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3332\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3390,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3332\/revisions\/3390"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3332"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3332"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.jsantos.net\/_blog\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3332"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\u201cGods be with us. Fall to your positions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n