Prologue for May 2026

In the town of Valdalis, the gloaming was as ordinary as any other. The westerly breeze from across the Aris River kept the air cool as a pair of merchants argued with a guard about the cargo they were unloading off a barge at the wharf…

The magnificent moonrise on Therin’vell Falls painted a portrait over Gwenllyne on Aris, the thundering of the waterfall fading to a mellow chorus within the streets of the artisan’s market…

Fairglen on Hope was lively as ever. The canals sparkled under the light of the lanterns, gondolas gliding through glistening water like something from a dream…

It all happened in a flash.

Voices first raised in annoyance rose instead in terror; the sounds of rushing waterfalls drowned out by deafening explosions along the docks; clear waters turned murky as blood spilled from the streets. Without warning, chaos erupted in all three settlements. The goblinoid invasion had begun.

The doors to the throne room in Travance Proper swung open as Count Everest, Warden of Kormyre, strode into the hall to meet his warlord. “Lord Commander Aleister, your report,” he commanded.

“Your Grace. We are receiving reports from the Navy’s communication relay. The Legion has made their move.” He pointed at three locations on the map in front of him. “In Alisandria, Fairglen on Hope; in Kaladonia, Gwenllyne on Aris; in Albriar, Valdalis. They’re trying to cut off the Proper while the heroes are rallying to strike.”

“Our river ports,” the Count remarked. “Three major centers to transport soldiers and supplies through the barony. What of Port Valandra?”

“Too obvious. Sir Exander had Valandra on high alert; the Drake Guard discovered their advance scouts before they could send a signal to their leaders, thank the Gods.”

“Report! At least 500 enemy troops in Gwenllyne! They won’t be able to hold long!” “Report! Valdalis is evacuating civilians and needs reinforcements!” Navy personnel standing by to receive psionic messages called out in rapid fire.

Clenching his fists, Aleister thought for a moment. “It’ll take too long to get troops up the Aris. But if we lose ground in the north and the Legion can squeeze Nedrillion and Arnwuhl, we risk the stability at the border holding off the main force. Take the Arcane Crossroads and a dozen Baronial guards, rendezvous with fifty soldiers and fifty guards from Illenvard and go back up Captain Corvus’s force in Gwenllyne.”

The scribe standing opposite the warlord nodded, making a note in their tome. “What of Valdalis and Fairglen?”

“All remaining non-essential soldiers in Illenvard need to back up Valdalis. Secure the road so the Legion can’t gain ground on the Proper and push them across the river.” The warlord paused. “It’ll take half a day for reinforcements from Elvalion to arrive, but send eighty soldiers from Elvalion towards Valdalis to box the goblins in from the north. Then send another twenty to Gwenllyne in case of a second strike after the Crossroads are dispelled. Any news from Fairglen?”

“Nothing, my lord. At our last count, seventy guards in Fairglen, plus twenty of Caer Bridaeg’s soldiers. The city isn’t fortified, but it’s more secure than Gwenllyne.”

“I won’t send in more soldiers blindly. I need eyes on the city!”

“Understood,” the navy messenger replied, and their eyes clouded over as they contacted the relay. A few agonizing seconds later, they cried out in pain, clutching their head, blinded by some arcane backlash.

“Dark sorcery! Dirty tricks… Bring the messenger to triage and get them healed. I want scouts to Fairglen immediately. Mobilize a detachment from Caer Bridaeg and have it stand by outside the city for orders. We won’t fall for a trap here.”

“By your leave.” The scribe made another note and left the throne room with a bow.

“What are your thoughts, Lord Aleister?” the Count asked. The two men pored over the map side by side.

“She’s bisecting the barony. This is coordinated. She wants to cut us off before our reinforcements arrive from the mainland.” He shook his head. “We can’t lose Valdalis. Alisandria and Ostcliff can hold for now without supplies from the west, but the border relies on shipments moving up the Aris. Although… Fairglen distributes produce and meat from Alisandria to the rest of the barony. If we lose it, Kaladonia, Pendarvin, Albriar, and Drega’mire will all be forced to rely on shipments from the mainland.”

“The heroes have mostly arrived in the Proper. No doubt they will wish to lend their blades to the cause.”

“Yes, and we’ll need them. Our soldiers will secure our supply lines. But until they do, it’ll be up to the heroes to reach across the Barony and aid the people.” He cracked his knuckles. “The Imperatrix wants a portal war. We’ll give her a portal war.”