Among the many figures making their way towards Umber’s Cairn one of them stood out in particular among the throng of travellers that made their way towards the plateau that overlooked the Northern Marches. This traveller, who stood out from amongst the rest of the people making their way towards the cairn, was a knight or, more precisely, one of the Templars from the Order of the Dusk, a fact that was readily apparent ue to the dark indigo tabard that the lone knight wore over the chest piece of his armor. Yet it was evident that the templar had been on the road for a long time, something that was evident by the dried mud stains that one could spot on the tabard alongside with quite a few places where it was clear the tabard had been teared and which had been subsequently sewn again.
No one knew what had driven the mysterious knight to make the trip towards Umber’s Cairn and, by extension, the Northern Marches. Indeed the knight spoke very little towards the troupe of travellers with which he had arrived to the path leading to the cairn, only speaking when it was absolutely necessary or when he had to request something directly from another member of the group, and so far no one had the courage to ask the knight any more details past his name: Talos Valcoran. As such, most of the group had eventually started ignoring the templar and barely anyone noticed when the knight suddenly stopped on his way upwards towards the cairn.
Talos had stopped making his way towards the plateau when a familiar sight had suddenly appeared: there on the distance he could barely make out the outline of the Dragonback Mountains. While it was difficult to recognize the distant mountains, their sight was one that Talos was all too familiar with due to the time he had spent serving Lord Daubeney in an effort to be knighted. Anger and bitterness surged in equal measures in his spirit as the memories of the time he had spent on the accursed lands that Daubeney lorded over, memories of joy and triumph as he recalled the victories he and his fellow would-be-knights had shared over a decade ago. Yet the sight also dredged painful memories from the depths of Talos’s mind, briefly passing before his very eyes: he remembered himself and his fellow squires chasing a beast in the direction of the Dragonback mountains, their discovery of the lair of the Fey Witch and the gruesome encounter with the witch.
Raising a, unknown to him, shaking hand Talos touched the spot under his breastplate where he knew that the pendant he wore was located. Taking a deep breath Talos calmed himself down, his hands looking around the path towards the cairn to see if anyone had noticed his small outburst only to notice that -instinctively- his free hand had reached for the hilt of his valdium blade. Breathing deeply once more, Talos let go of the hilt of his sword and turned his gaze towards the outline of the Dragonback mountains once more “I swear I’ll avenge you my brothers, even if it’s the last thing I do.” Talos swore to himself under his breath before giving a small nod in the general direction where the mountain was, a small gesture of remembrance towards the memory of his dead comrades.
With his emotions back under control Talos resumed his trek towards Umber’s Cairn with a renewed sense of purpose, quickly reaching the clearing. “I swear I’ll avenge us all.” He thought to himself bitterly as he gently set down the rucksack that he carried with himself, settling down on a log that was near the smithy located in the northern part of the cairn.