Wind howled through the valley as Thade and Ronan rode along the rocky trail that snaked through the mountainous terrain. They were members of the Oldwatch, long considered the outpost of cowards—men who preferred to serve out hard labour instead of swinging from the gallows or rotting in a dank cell for their crimes.
The Watch wasn't just a camp for criminals, it was also the sole barrier separating the old world from the new one. A fact every other watchman loved to remind each other when it was their turn to head out on patrol. It was only during these Kaudon border patrols that Thade regretted not just sharing a cell with ten other unwashed bodies in one of Vlencia's many keeps.
Outside of the occasional punch-up and murder, the Oldwatch never left him feeling this... vulnerable. There was order and a chain of command that nobody challenged. The cooks would stay in the kitchens, the stablemen in the stables, leaving everyone else to chip in with mopping the cobbles and stocking the beacons that lined the three-mile length of the Great Wall. Venturing into the Dead City? Few enjoyed that, even if it afforded them more freedom and respite from the constant oversight.
Thade looked ahead at the scarlet mountains and roiling clouds suspiciously. Despite this part of the realm lying dead and desolate for centuries, he could still feel it preside over them. The dark lord's shadow.
Ronan stroked his beard, smiling.
“I'm glad you find this amusing,” Thade said. "Go on... what is it?"
“Just thinking about the day I get to leave this arse-end of the kingdom. Only three more years and the commander should relieve me of my duties.”
“Lucky for some. I’ve still got eight more summers to go,” Thade sighed. “What will you do?”
“Go back to what I know—steal.”
“Why not learn a more honourable trade?”
Ronan snorted. “I’m nearly forty. Nobody will have the patience to train me for anything. Besides… I enjoy the thrill of stealing too much.”
“Even if it leads you back here?”
He paused for a moment before nodding. “Oh yes.”
Thade shook his head as thunderous clouds encircled the mountaintops ahead, turning the skyline into an ashy canvas. The air was thick with humidity and only the distant rumblings of thunder could be heard over their horses’ hooves.
“I don’t understand why they keep sending us out on these stupid week-long patrols,” Ronan complained. “Nothing has been seen or heard here in millennia.”
“Is that fear I detect?" Thade quipped, earning a scowl. “Consider it an honour, for it was an order passed down from King Valentius Rarkez himself after The Great Battle.”
“And what exactly has that pretentious prick ever done for you?”
Such blasphemy would lob a man's head, but Thade quietly agreed with his counterpart. Duty and honour were things men in search of purpose clung on to, especially in landscapes as bleak as Kaudon.
“Didn’t think so,” Ronan said.
“Well, I’d rather not be the one patrolling when something does happen, so let's at least be grateful for that.”
“Nothing will ever happen. You know it, I know it, and the dead know it too.”
As they crested a ridge, Thade gazed out onto the ancient battleground that stretched a great distance. A chill ran down his spine—it always did. This part of the realm was an unwelcoming place and a constant reminder of the darkness that once ruled these lands.
As Thade surveyed the gloomy fortress, a tiny figure caught his eye. It seemed out of place and he didn't recall seeing it in previous patrols. He scrambled for his spyglass telescope to take a closer look. What he saw turned his blood into ice.
A lone figure swathed in darkness stood in the shadow of centuries-old dead trees with rocks scattered around their feet. The person's hands moved in strange, mysterious gestures as if performing an ancient ritual.
Thade made out the pale skin and long robe, but the face was concealed by a hood. It almost seemed like he was witnessing something out of an old tale. Whoever this was didn’t belong to the Oldwatch or any city of Vlencia. Kaudon was off-limits to anyone other than those of the Watch. And even then, there were restrictions as to who entered the ruins of the Dead City. No, whoever this was should not have been here.
Sensing his unease, Ronan snatched the optics from Thade. “What in the gods…” he uttered.
“Do you see the robed man?"
Ronan peeled the scope from his eyes, his face paling. “That is no man. That's a necromancer.”
Thade took the tool back and honed in on the figure once more. Ronan was right… the way it moved was not akin to that of a man. Its limbs seemed to bend in ways no human could and it was only upon closer inspection that he noticed its skin pulsed an eerie blue light.
Thade's breath snagged in his throat when the dozens of rocks near the figure moved. One by one, they became menacing warriors of all shapes and sizes, standing in an intimidating formation that seemed to go on forever. The clanging of their weapons and stomping of their feet created an earthquake-like tremor that shook even Thade and Ronan miles away.
Thade exchanged a terrified glance at Ronan, who seemed just as numb as he was.
"We must get back to the Watch and report to the commander,” he said. “Word must be sent to the other cities.”
Ronan sheepishly nodded, and they quickly steered their horses towards the safety of the Great Wall some days away. As they galloped back to the Watch, Thade's heart pounded as his mind raced with the implications of what they had just witnessed. If that figure was summoning an army, it could only mean one thing: war.
They rode hard for two days, their horses’ hooves waking the rugged terrain from its slumber. The wind howled around them like a pack of bloodwolves. Only when they rounded the rocky bend to reveal a long strip of land overlooked by the Great Wall did the tension ease. But only slightly.
The soil was a sickly yellow, dotted by the occasional tuft of grass. On either side of the narrow trail lay a body of water, its hard waves acting as a natural moat between Vlencia and the mountainous sub-region of Kaudon. Up ahead, only a single, retractable bridge separated their world from the ancient darkness they just witnessed.
They pushed on with renewed vigour as the wall's great height cast a chilly shadow over them. Constructed of solid stone that not even the fiercest wind could penetrate, it kept watch over this dismal corner of Estos like an unnerved sentinel.
As they approached the drawbridge, Thade announced their arrival to the guards standing across the water. The pair were met with stern looks and raised eyebrows. High above, hundreds of archers and watchmen, mere dots, gazed down at them, the lit beacons bending under the ungodly breeze.
“You two are back early,” one guard yelled, his voice laced with suspicion.
Thade quickly recounted what they had seen in Kaudon—the strange figure and the army of living stones. The watch-outs exchanged uneasy glances, and Thade could sense their dread.
“You sure about this?” the guard asked.
“I swear it on my life.”
The sentry looked at Ronan and then back at Thade. "You best speak with the commander. Lower the bridge!"
Thade and Ronan watched as the bridge slowly descended, creaking and groaning under its immense weight. The man motioned for them to come forward, and they rode across with anticipation.
As they entered the Great Wall, Thade couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. The safety of the massive stone structure always gave him a sense of security, like nothing could touch him within its walls. He cast a final glance at the ominous mountains before the gigantic doors swallowed them shut.
"Come," Ronan said. "We must find the commander."
They dismounted their horses and broke into a light sprint across the Watch's dreary courtyard. They pressed past other men doing their time, earning disgruntled looks, and made their way into the inner sanctum of the Watch.
It was a maze of dimly lit tunnels until they eventually found the commander in his chamber poring over maps and reports. Gavric, a grizzled veteran with a beard white before its time, looked up. His eyes narrowed at the sight of Thade’s panicked, breathless expression.
“What is it?” he demanded.
It seemed Ronan had lost his voice. Thade wasn't sure if his courage was knocked by the whole ordeal or the commander's steely gaze.
“We saw something in Kaudon," Thade replied.
The commander's gaze intensified. "Speak of it!”
Thade took a deep breath, his heart still racing. He recounted what they had seen… the strange figure they saw summoning an army of seismic proportions—neither human nor of this world. When he was finished, there was a tense silence in the room. The commander seemed to be processing what he’d heard, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe it.
"You must be mistaken," he said after a moment of deliberation.
"We saw it with our own bloody eyes!" Ronan finally found his tongue.
Gavric traded a scornful look. On any other day, he would have Ronan carrying sacs of wheat on his back for such insolence, but today was not any other day. They were dealing with something that could potentially threaten the lives of everyone in this kingdom.
Gavric leaned into his chair, releasing an exhale that was felt across the chamber. The mood was tense, the air charged with uncertainty. He looked at Thade and Ronan with a sharp eye as if trying to discern something else from their faces.
"If this is true, then this means…” his voice trailed. "He is stirring."
The mere hint of Vraqor caused the lanterns to flicker and weave. It was as if his spirit had entered the chamber, bringing with him unspeakable dread.
"It means facing a darkness that knows no mercy or boundaries. Vraqor’s army is a force of nature that can level an entire kingdom in mere days. Should he or his army break through the Great Wall then Vlencia will not be safe from its wrath." The commander rose from his seat, his shoulders bearing the weight of the conversation. He looked up at Thade and Ronan with eyes both cold and distant. "You must ride to the capital at once and send word to King Robick."
"But we've only just got—”
"The fate of our kingdom faces grave peril!" Gavric cut off Ronan. The chamber fell silent, the tension palpable.
The commander reached for a sheet of paper before dunking his quill into a pot of ink. Thade and Ronan watched on as his hand scribbled furiously across its yellowed surface before promptly rolling it up and sealing it.
"Take this with you," Gavric said, holding out the scroll. "It bears the sigil of the Watch and should grant you swift passage to the king's palace."
Thade took the scroll. Ronan still looked uncertain.
"It takes an average horse ten days to reach Istrille. I suggest you take the fastest ones in the stables and get there in a week," Gavric's voice took on a tremor that rivalled the one they felt in Kaudon. "Make haste before the death march comes!"
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