The Messenger: A Hailgalad Story

Light snow gently fell in the northern valley. White-tipped mountains stood as watchful sentinels all around the horizon as two wolves pressed onward with relentless vigor. As they moved, their powerful strides broke through the fresh powder.

All was silent in that valley, except for their heavy panting. The two darted between spruce trees and over rocks until they came to a cliff side. Its jagged peak stretched far into the black, night sky. At the sheer rock's base, there was a door flanked by two broad guards. The axes that laid on their sides glinted in the light of two, large braziers. In unison, the wolves stopped abruptly and were enveloped on a black smoke.

In a matter of moments, the two wolves were fully transformed into men. One was a large man with a long beard and was dressed in a heavy, black-haired cloak that was broached with a blue gem. His thick brown hair was braided and his eyes seemed to glow with a faint blue tint.

The other was a slender man. He was dressed in the same manner as his companion. His black hair was slicked back and his eyes glowed with a icy blue.

After the two had transformed, the guards did not say a word. They only bowed and one opened the heavy wooden door. It gave way with a booming creak as it shook off the snow. With a nod, the two proceeded and they ducked their heads into the room.

The initial space was small and dark. Dim light flickered from candles on the walls. The two brushed the snow off their cloaks and stamped their boots on the floor. Once they were cleaned off, without a word, they looked at one another as the larger of the two opened the next door.

It revealed a large, warm room that was a welcomed contrast to the cold, windswept valley. A large fire roared in a hearth on the far side of the area. Books and scrolls were strewn about the tables and floor. A large man sat in a comfy-looking animal skin chair by the fireplace.

"Report," a woman with fierce blue eyes approached them. Her garb was similar to the two travelers. She had thickly braided black hair and approached them with a confidence that would quake most any soul.

"Duna, a pleasure as always," the slender man said with a slight bow. He tried his best to remain relaxed as the woman stared at him. Without a word, his attention was drawn to the true power in the room.

In the far right, past a large table with books that contained words and incantations only one there could begin to comprehend, a man stood. The man had long white hair and a beard to match. He was robed in a black fur cloak that had a silver sash. He had a face that projected both strength and a deep wisdom of many long years. The old man stood by a truly massive black orb that pulsated with power and glowed in various spots when he reached out to it with his mind.

Both of the travelers found themselves unable to speak in the presence of the man.

"Report, Salvor," a deep and melodious voice came form the old man.

Salvor, the slender man, drew himself up and was finally able to find his voice.

“The army is ready to move south. They are gathered at the ruins and await your command."

"No, they await for yours," the old man said dryly.

"My Lord Bok?" Salvor countered. “Are you not coming?"

A forceful backhand came across the slender man's face from Duna. "Do not question. Only obey."

Bok raised his hand and gave a smirk as he stepped forward.

"That is alright. We must all be in understanding of our parts in these great events that are now in motion," the old man said. "You will lead the advance army south. Destroy Frostwatch, and remember be sure that none make it out to bring word to the other cities. Duna and Gulrok will follow with the remaining troops to take the capital."

"Y-yes my lord," Salvor tried to keep from shaking as he bowed low. He knew the plan of course. He studied the defenses of Frostwatch and went over his orders time and again, but now that he was in the presence of his master, it was as if he had forgotten everything. "We will not fail you."

Bok laid a hand on Salvor's shoulder. It was strangely calming at first, but it quickly turned into a burning. A burning that seared in his mind and ensnared his will to be obedient to his master.

"No, you will no fail," Bok kept a calm voice as he spoke and continued to let his power flow into the mind of his captain. "You will not fail because it would not only be me you are beholden to. If you were to fail, death will only be the beginning of your torments."

Without another word, the two travelers left the brightly lit room and were again embraced by the smothering cold of the White Mountains. In a flash, black smoke swallowed them and two wolves were off like a gale southward. In the distance laid a ruined city populated with hundreds of flickering torchlights.