The Winter kingdom

Version 2.0

The Slate King's wooden hall kept the chill of the outside world at bay by the roaring fire in the centre. Edwyn, Harmond, Frost, and Brandon gathered around a long table with the light of fire casting flickering shadows across their faces as they spoke in low tones.

Edwyn's hoarse voice broke out. "They're growing in numbers every day. Every week, it seems, new beasts are sited roaming through my lands! Trolls, werewolves, dire wolves, even bloody lizard lions. Edwyn shook his head. "You name, and I've got reports of them here. I don't have the faintest idea but they're coming in from other kingdoms and all moving here."

Harmond crossed his thick arms, frowning. "You're certain they're from outside your lands?"

Edwyn nodded grimly. "Defiantly. Some of my men have reported sightings of beasts only known to the Marsh King's lands and even saw some of the bests crossing the rivers in your lands Brandon. They're all deciding to move here."

Frost quiet voice, spoke up. "If this continues, you'll be overrun, and it'll spill over to the rest of us. We need to find the reason behind this… migration."

Brandon leaned forward. "Have you seen any signs that they're organizing? A leader or some such?"

Edwyn sighed and shook his head. "That's the part that worries me. They mostly remain scattered with no central leader or sign of coordinated attacks yet. But they're all staying in my lands, never straying to the Red Kingdom, despite roaming close to the borders."

Harmond grunted. "Well, if they are here then let's fight." He smiled. "Maybe somewhere where we can strike with a full force."

Frost nodded slowly. "But we don't know their full strength, or how many more are arriving. Might be marching our men into a slaughter."

"Don't be such a wus!" Harmond bellowed out, slapping Frost on the back making him stumble and earning a roll of the eye from Frost.

Brandon glanced at the pair. "If we're going to root them out, it has to be with a careful strategy, not just brute force. First, we scout out and try and map where the densest concentrations are. Once we know the lay of the beasts, we can use it to trap them."

Edwyn raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly do you propose to trap monsters?"

Brandon looked to Halvar. "We all have wargs at our disposal now. We can use their abilities to control some of the wild beasts, to stir up other animals in the area, and drive the monsters toward a contained spot, perhaps into a valley or narrow pass where we'd have the advantage."

Edwyn nodded. "A controlled ambush … could work. But that means committing every able-bodied man and warg. And even then, we need a fallback plan if the monsters break through."

Frost drummed his fingers on the table, nodding. "We could build barricades along the routes leading to the ambush site. Makeshift palisades, spike traps, or anything to slow them down and guide them to where we want them."

Harmond smiled. "Agreed! But first, we are going to need to find where these monsters stay and what they are doing, then we can plan to trap them, cage them and then butcher them as they deserve."

Edwyn rose, his face set. "Then it's settled. I'll start preparing men and supplies. I'll leave at dawn to look for some suitable passes."

Frost nodded in agreement. "And the rest of us will find these beasts."

/

In the grey morning light, the kings and their men wrapped up warm and marched out, leaving the Slate camp in separate hunting parties. Each king took a different direction, Brandon went toward the east not far from the rocky hills and steep wilds, Umber headed southeast closer to the dark woods, while Frost and his men went south to the more open and flat plains. Mercenaries, often from each of the kingdoms, trailed each party, drawn by both coin and the chance for the monster remains as fur and meat were selling at a premium.

For days, they scoured the Slate King's lands, tracking twisted creatures through deep woods and rugged terrain. Every day brought fresh battles, and each party returned with trophies, heads of werewolves, carcasses of some odd bone-white ghouls, and some large, scaled bodies of Isdråk who over the years have grown large. Yet, every night, when they camped under the pale sky, they always felt tired as no matter how many they killed, new creatures seemed to fill the gaps almost immediately.

Brandon and his party moved through the steep hills with measured steps, the chill of winter hanging heavy around them. Snow crunched softly underfoot, as they followed the converging of two tracks of dire wolves that have merged into one very large pack.

Suddenly, Halvar halted, raising his hand for silence. Sounds moved over the hills around them, low and lurching. Three unhealthy ghouls, their skin mottled and rotting, staggered into view. Their eyes were vacant with hunger, and their mouths hung open, revealing crooked, blackened teeth leaking saliva onto the snow.

"This'll be easy," Brandon murmured, lifting his sword. Some of the King's Guard mirrored his stance, drawing their weapons, others were just happy to watch the simple battle.

The ghouls rushed toward them, sensing fresh prey, and then lunged forward with unnatural speed. Brandon slashed his sword in a swift, practiced arc, cleaving into the first ghoul's neck, sending its head tumbling into the snow. Another one leaped for Halvar, but his spear caught it midair, driving it back with a guttural snarl. The third ghoul clawed its way past its comrade, only to be brought down by one of the wargs, who commanded his wolf companion to tear into its side.

Halvar quickly finished off his ghoul as the men cheered from the skilful display. "Nice work," Brandon muttered, wiping his sword clean.

They pressed on, and as night began to close in, an eerie howl cut through the air, echoing off the hills around them. From the shadows of the hill emerged a hulking werewolf, its fur black as pitch, which matted perfectly to its massive muscles.

The beast moved with terrifying speed, bearing down on the group before they could fully brace themselves. One of the wargs called on its bear to take on the creature, while Brandon squared his stance, watching the werewolf's every movement.

It lunged at the bear, jaws snapping, and the bear returned growled, and standing into hind legs pushed it, their jaws snapping at one another. The werewolf went low, picking up the bear and slashing its sides before carelessly throwing the bear away and chagrining at Brandon.

Brandon barely sidestepped the charge, swinging his obsidian sword across its flank. The blade bit deep, but the beast barely flinched. Edric and two others joined the fray, their weapons biting into fur and flesh, but the werewolf fought like a demon. It threw one man aside with a swipe of its claws, then turned on Brandon again.

Brandon gritted his teeth, eyes locked on the creature, before it growled, ignoring the men again and attacking Brandon. He weaved but took most on his bronze, making his amour screech and scream before he counters when he could.

Finally, after a relentless, brutal clash, they managed to overpower the creature. It fell, blood pooling beneath it, its dark eyes finally glazing over.

As they caught their breath, Brandon surveyed the scene, nodding to his men who appreciated and respected the fight they watched always impressed with anyone who takes on a werewolf. Brandon, wiping his sword clean by the campfire that evening, looked across to Halvar, Edric, and Lyanna. "All these creatures have been so odd."

Halvar nodded his head. "They sure don't act like natural animals."

/

In another part of the Slate King's land, Umber's booming laugh echoed off the trees as he flung down the severed claw of a slain beast. "Another one for the pile, eh?" But his grin faded as he looked toward his south, where dark shapes ran off into the distance. "One more for us, but ten more for them."

Each night, the kings gathered back at the camp, bruised and weary. The men, too, were drained, but the fighting was worth it, every day men proved their worth to one another, with the best praise going to those who took on werewolves and even one man taking on a wild bear. They earned the respect and the talk of the men.