[i]Frederick von Bonraffen 1st of Dragonmark, 2189 PD My dearest Marguerite, as it would undoubtedly take many months for my letters to reach you, I shall write sparingly and with brevity, for I know next year we shall be reunited in Magdebaden. I write to you in the Brandywinter Inn at Torm's Gate. It is just as you said it would be. The wall is vast and made of hard mountain stone. The people here are intrepid travelers and doughty folk, and I have met the head of the caravan, Master Falkenrath. He has assured me of the safety of myself and my baggage. I miss you for all the world, and I know we will see one another soon. [hr] Frederick von Bonraffen 4th of Dragonmark, 2189 PD My dearest Marguerite, we have set off just this morning. The sun will set soon, but I still see the Dragonback if I were to look over my shoulder. We catch the occasional traveler making their way back with pelts and high spirits. It's bloody cold, but we have taken our first step in the journey and the trees are not so thick on the path as of yet. Today I met two fellow members of my trek. A lovely young woman who is full of cheek and knowledge of the marches, though not from experience as she admitted. The other was a young man, strong but very kind. He helped me load my wagon just this morning, but his outfit is queer and he has a purpose on this expedition, I have no doubts. I got to speaking with some of the guards. A few of them have taken this path we are traversing now. Their spears gleam in the cold air, and I feel comforted. Until next time, dearest niece. [hr] Frederick von Bonraffen 7th of Dragonmark, 2189 PD My dearest Marguerite, I have to admit my back has not forgiven me for taking this journey. It takes hard men to live such a life, or a vivacious spirit like yours, or that young woman I spoke of earlier. One night we heard howls, perhaps two nights ago? It sounded like large wolves, but since then we have heard no sign. Master Falkenrath and the good Captain Rohardt have pressed us and our mules hard, and for an entire day I barely glimpsed the sun through the trees, so crowded were they around our carts. But now we roll in an open, albeit muggy plain. I have made a few good friends, including a fellow merchant by the name of Munst, who has a daughter in Iskura. His stories of her remind me of you. Until next time, my favorite niece. [hr] Frederick von Bonraffen 10th of Dragonmark, 2189 PD I write to you with some anxiety, my dear Marguerite. I admit I had some worries in my last entry, but I did not want to voice them so as to bring them to light. But this forest we have passed through is cold, and I do not know how large it truly is. Some days we hear the growls of a beast and screams of something unnatural, but we have yet to see anything. I write to you by the light of the moon, as I was awakened earlier and didn't know what to do with myself. Something had entered the caravan and walked about. Something I thought might have been a man, but wasn't. I didn't know what it was, but it chilled me. My chiefest concern is the Captain Rohardt. He says all is fine, but his face says otherwise. I see less guards now, what's more. I think a few of them might have deserted, or perhaps have gotten lost. I don't mean to worry you dear, and I doubt you'll ever read this. But it eases my worries to write to you. I love you. [hr] Frederick von Bonraffen 11th of Dragonmark, 2189 PD I write this as a message to my brother, Heinrich Von Bonraffen. I am uncertain if we will ever speak again, brother. The caravan has been attacked, but by what I know not. We travel in small columns and are separated by units of our caravan guards, perhaps covering a bit over a mile. I heard screams from behind, those of men and women. Our guards went to the cries but I haven't yet heard back from them. I have just spoken with Master Falkenrath, and he informed me must continue on or the entire train might be lost to what he called a 'landslide.' I know such things are a danger here, but a landslide does not do what I heard. I write this letter to settle my affairs, if somehow this comes back to you. Perhaps I am a bit too worried, but better to be safe than sorry as our mother always told us. Send my accounts to your house in Breightfallen and let Otto handle them. He's a good, astute man. Thank you brother. And do not show this to Marguerite, I do not wish to worry her. You know how fond I am of her. [hr] Frederick von Bonraffen If anyone finds this note, tell my niece I am sorry. Tell her I should have listened to her father. Tell her never to come north of the gate. Things watch from the trees. Things of evil and unknown purpose. Help me. [/i] [hr] [center][youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TTKdvO9LWwk[/youtube][/center] [center][h1]Chapter 1[/h1][/center] A warbling cry and a wet crack sounded, and the grunts of many heavy things followed by footsteps. Beren heard it all for the first time, the world coming back to him like a hammer blow. His head began to race, and he realized he was in complete blackness save for a small hole where light poured into his warm, albeit stuffy prison. He could hear sobbing, and then a woman begging before her cries were ended in a sound he could only equate to chopping steak. As he wiggled his way to the hole, he heard something else. A roar, no, many roars. A cacophony of primeval screams erupted from his right, which could have been any worldly direction. As he placed his eye at the hole, his vision was filled with horror. Some thing, some corpse of gnarled muscle and ripped skin somehow stood over another corpse. This one the fresh cadaver of a woman, her blood staining the muddied ground from both parts of her now bisected body. Beren recognized her. She was one of the smaller retailers finding a new life north of the gate. He didn't know her name, but her body now lay before him, cut open by... some restless dead. It didn't breath, but it moved. Worst of all, it was holding Beren's axe. Its head turned to Beren's direction, and twin blue lights twinkled from its scarred sockets. His breath caught, but a few moments passed and he found it wasn't looking at him. Instead another woman was brought forward by two lesser dead men. A woman he recognized as well, but he had only seen once. She was the pretty one he had seen on the first day, the funny one. Behind her were cages of men and women, some motionless but most screaming to their gods for help. Now something else walked into his field of vision. A cloaked figure with eyes that burned like braziers from under its cowl, moving with the grace of an elf as it wielded a terrible black-iron sword. It strode past the risen executioner, past the woman that was now set onto her knees. Vaguely he realized it was dawn, now. Where [i]was[/i] he? The wood against his arm and the piles of various things atop him gave him a guess. He was on a wagon, and somehow Munst's stuff was ontop of him. But why? Where was Munst? He heard a screech, and suddenly other figures appeared, these creatures coming from the opposite direction. They were muscled and primitive, scarred from battle and leaping like apes. They had coarse hair and primitive looks, and fangs so large Beren might consider them tusks. Beren recognized them as Orcs, and their sudden involvement froze his blood. The cowled thing impaled a flying orc on its blade with preternatural speed, but was lost in the swirling melee as the muscled raiders moved like mangy dogs, hacking apart walking corpses and punching through bone like mouldings of wood. Even through this maelstrom of mayhem, Beren saw the executioner get attacked by an Orc. The thing blocked the sword of the monster and promptly beheaded the thing. Blood spurted from its shoulders and the body flopped to the ground like a sack of meat before the woman, who gave an understandable 'eep!' Horror in his eyes, he watched as the wight raised its axe again, this time its target was the kneeling woman, still held down by one of the restless dead. "No..." He breathed to himself. Beren shoved upwards, hitting something solid. Small bits of packed grain slid down from the wagon, but the pile held fast. He growled, planting his hands against the wood as he struggled. A moment later, something snapped and the weight above him began to lift. Beren was exceptionally strong, though his form was hard to gauge from the thick, long sleeved jacket he wore to stave off the cold. Grain and iron and letters of payment erupted from the pile of the wagon, and the cold air hit him like a slap in the face, but he was free. His vision no longer narrowed, he was met with more surprises. They weren't in the woods. Their slaughter had happened by a copse of trees, but before him was a battlefield. Rolling hills and small mires were stained with the black blood of orcs and the bile of horrible monstrosities. Some were dead men, others were ghoul-like crawlers, some with four arms that moved like spiders, and yet still some where giant, flightless bats that ranged across the bogs like hulking ogres. Much to his chagrin, he also saw Ogres as well. They wielded giant logs and beat the dead to true death. Both the Orcs and the Ogres had iron helms and face masks [i]burned[/i] onto their flesh, and the two armies fought beneath the shadow of a lonely mountain at the edge of a large forest. Beren didn't hesitate or give it thought. He grabbed the closest thing he could, which turned out to be a heavy chest of some kind. He placed one hand behind its butt, planted his boot on the edge of the wagon, and threw it, turning it into a heavy projectile fit for a siege engine. It slammed into the executioner just before the axe fell upon the woman's neck, shattering the ribs of the aberration and sending the axe to the ground. Beren was so relieved, he almost didn't see the Orc coming at him from the flank, shoving a spear at him. He leaped off the wagon, feet skidding on the dirt before he raced over to the woman, leaping over an Orc and a ghoul wrestling on the ground. Beren grabbed his axe and knelt behind the woman. "Let's go." He said, cutting through her bonds with the weapon's keen edge. Behind them, the chest had cracked open, revealing her weapons and effects.