Prologue: Calling the First House

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"A land as locked in mystery as it was in ice,

Keva is the stronghold of Humanity's oldest Houses.

With the Diamond of Stone fortress of Ice Watch

In the heart of its capital, it stood unassailed for millennia.

Yet ever ready are the warriors of Keva

To answer the ancient call and make their war

Against the Shadow and the Return."

- From an ancient druidic history of Keva, the First Kingdom of Humanity


For the hundredth time that day, Festus Ironstorm the Silvermane, war king of Keva and master of the northlands fought to stifle the urge to crumple the worn parchment he held in a massive hand and throw it into a nearby brazier to burn to ash. Instead, he refocused his attention on the waiting officer who stood, hands respectfully held behind him, a few paces away.

"And the state of these underground passageways now?" he tautly asked, peering with bright blue eyes at the officer, a colonel by the flashes of gold on his uniform's shoulder and sleeve.

"The last was filled in by Master Kaul and his wizards this morning, sire," the colonel, a broad-shouldered beast of a man, with the woar tattoos of the eastern Houses marking his bluff face, replied. "Any connection the shadow soldiers had with the old imperial breeding pits in the Gyren has been severed." He paused to consult a folded piece of parchment that he held in a gloved hand. "With the eastern marches now completely cleared, Keva has been fully cleansed of the shadow forces that assailed us some moons ago."

Festus frowned. Not that the Shadow had gone far into the southern and eastern reaches of his kingdom. Barely past the borders, in fact. The dark tide that had overwhelmed Kaph and Hernak to lay siege to Caliphra, Mamra, Septus, and Galental in the Hammer had come west across the Giant's Teeth. Only to crash against the fortified barricade that was his southeast borders and find itself dashed to pieces against the implacable might of the Kevan people.

"Did you follow up on the rangers' reports of Tal Morun being attacked?"

"Yes, sire," the colonel replied, once again looking down at the parchment in his hand. "The Talemonese capital has fallen to a massive demonic Shadow force out of the south." He paused to carefully swallow before looking back up at the Silvermane's grim face. "The city burns."

A ripple of tension washed over the Silvermane's jaw as he fought to remain composed.

"And my grandson? The rangers said he had retaken his capital with a mixed force."

"My apologies, sire, but we weren't able to determine whether he survived the attack and withdrew along with the column of citizenry and military that was seen escaping the city to the east, on the Giant's Way."

"Lawrence is a capable commander and king, your Majesty," the lean figure of Festus' chief adviser said from where he stood a couple of paces back and to the right of the chair the Silvermane chose to occupy here in his study high atop Ice Watch's central tower.

Possessing the lean features and dark skin of his Caledonian people, along with their wit and great intelligence, General Tam Daertha had commanded the Silvermane's armies for three decades and had been his close friend since both were children studying in Irongraad's premier military academy. It had been Daetha, alongside his cousin, Degin Tenne, and the other generals of Keva's Iron Fist, that developed the plan to free Talemon from Urud the Usurper and put Jerald, Festus' eldest son, on her throne.

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