Marlin and Milly exchanged one last glance with Betty before turning their backs on the small cottage, their hearts heavy with unspoken thoughts. The road to North Haven stretched out before them, a three-hour journey that felt much longer given the weight of what lay ahead. Each was lost in their own thoughts, pondering the uncertain future and the difficulties ahead

It was now official: Avalonia had violated the sacred rules of engagement. The Ambassadorial Council in North Haven had reacted swiftly, branding it a cataclysmic war, a declaration that carried with it the promise of widespread devastation. Betty had received the grim news of her husband Bradford’s fate just hours before. As the wife of the "Hero of Lost Haven," she had been visited by a high-ranking aide of the Valkorian government, who informed her that Bradford was alive, but recovering. He was recovering from the aftermath of using Sanctus Ultor, it had drained him so completely that he had been in a deep, unresponsive sleep for two days. The aide had arranged for servants to care for Betty’s home and would take her with him to see Bradford, leaving Marlin and Milly to embark on their journey alone.

Marlin had tried to pry more information from the aide, but the man had been frustratingly tight-lipped. Yet Marlin’s instincts, and perception, told him all he needed to know. The situation was dire, far worse than the aide was willing to admit. Although Valkor had won the battle at Lost Haven. The aide’s evasive response to Marlin’s simple question, “Where else have they struck?” had been all the confirmation he needed.

“How bad do you think it will be?” Milly’s voice broke the silence, her voice tense.

“Bad enough that we’ll all likely be conscripted into an alliance militia,” Marlin replied, his voice grim. “The other nations can’t afford to ignore this. They’ll rant and rave, but in the end, they’ll have to face the reality that Avalonia is no longer a part of the alliance. Especially now that it’s clear real Dark Lords are involved.”

He paused, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself for the enormity of what he was about to say. “Avalonia is on a similar path that led to the Red Age.”

Milly opened her mouth to protest, but Marlin raised his hand. “I’ve been researching the Red Age, studying uprisings led by Dark Lords. Normally, Dark Lords aren’t actually significant threat’s. They’re solitary creatures, unable to cooperate with each other on any meaningful scale.”

He hesitated, as if unsure how much to reveal, but then pressed on. “The last time, the Only time, Dark Lords worked together in any organized way was during the Red Age.”

Milly’s face paled, as a lorekeeper of her tribe she was taught and well versed. Marling stating it out in the open made ot too real. She tried to muster a counterargument. “Marlin, such a scale is unlikely to be repeated.”

Marlin felt a surge of worry. He had his own suspicions that Avalonia’s forces had grown stronger even in defeat, that they had gained more power than they had lost, not to mention other battles of which he frustratingly little besides a suspicion. He couldn’t bring himself to voice these fears, not yet. Instead, he shook his head, his expression somber.

“I don’t think it’s about the scale Milly. It’s about the fact that Dark Lords are cooperating at all. If they’re working together, there’s no telling how many of them there are, or how powerful they might be or become . And that’s what bothers me.”

Milly fell silent, her face reflecting the same anxiety that Marlin felt. They continued their journey in silence, the walls of North Haven growing larger with each step. Even from a distance, they could see the activity along the fortifications. Engineers and mages were working side by side, reinforcing the walls with spells and enchantments, every brick meticulously infused with protective magic. The walls seemed almost to hum with energy, a living barrier against the times that lay beyond.

As they approached the gate, Marlin prepared himself for the usual grilling from the guards. But to his surprise, they merely nodded in respect, their usual suspicious glances and snide remarks absent. It was a small but unexpected relief.

“That’s odd,” Marlin murmured. “I was expecting a much harder time getting through.”

Milly grinned, a hint of her usual mischief returning. “Well, we have been hunting gobbos and the boys might have been bragging about the fact that you are the son of Bradford the mighty.” She winked at him. Marlin sighed. Much like his father he didn’t like the spotlight all that much.

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At the word "gobbos," the three gnolls who had been trailing behind perked up, their eyes gleaming with excitement. “Wees goes huntz gobbos today?” they asked in unison, their enthusiasm almost comical. Billy, the ever-watchful diregoat, sensing the potential for misunderstanding, stepped forward, his posture calm and authoritative as if to gently correct his excitable comrades.

“the Mistress and Lord are merely discussing our future course.” The gnolls had taken a liking to hunting goblins, for the most part they were evenly matched to goblins with a slight advantage towards the gnolls.

Milly and Marlin made their way to the freebooter guild. With the departure of so many merchants the streets were sparsely populated.

As Marlin and Milly walked through the streets of North Haven, they couldn’t shake the empty feeling the streets gave off. Usually filled to the brim with merchants selling their wares and townsfolk haggling over prices, were now silent. Stalls abandoned, shutters closed. Many had left the city, seeking refuge from the encroaching war, their absence leaving North Haven empty.

The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from passing soldiers or citizens needing to be somewhere or the distant sounds of craftsman working overtime to prepare for the coming conflict. But it wasn’t long before Marlin and Milly encountered something less mundane: a small gathering of nobles, standing in a secluded courtyard.

They had an air of confidence, but it felt brittle. As Marlin and Milly approached, intent on ignoring them and continuing on their way, the nobles turned to face them, their eyes narrowing.

"Ah, look at this," said the leader, a black-haired man with a hawkish face and deep set eyes. His voice was smooth, but his tone carried an edge. "It’s not often we see someone like you walking these streets. Come to scope out North Haven?"

Marlin’s raised an eyebrow, eyes, dark with hidden amusement at the blatant and poorly executed attempt at taunting him with accusations. They saw him not as an adventurer, but as a Dark Lord. There was no mistaking it, the way they watched him.

Marlin offered a dark smile, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "No just passing through" his tone casual. He was about to react with a snappy comeback but Something about him was different today. “How is the city holding up?” His eyes flickered with genuine concern and Milly did a double take. She was not expecting this.

Neither were the nobles. The nobleman’s pause was almost imperceptible, but Marlin caught it. The man quickly regained his composure, straightening his shoulders as he replied, "The city holds, as the alliance has, for the last ten thousand years. We are resilient, and no singular nation will bring North Haven to its knees." His words were confident, but the underlying tension in his voice betrayed the truth: they were all struggling to maintain sanity in a situation that was beyond anything anyone alive had ever faced.

Another noble, a woman with sharp features and an air of haughty disdain, stepped forward, her gaze locked onto Marlin’s. "The real question is, how long will it hold if people like you are left unchecked?" Her tone dripped with accusation, her eyes narrowing as if trying to pierce through Marlin’s calm exterior. "You may walk these streets, but everyone knows what you are. The only reason you’ve managed is by pretending to be something you’re not."

Marlin exaggerated his sigh and rolled his eyes for the nobles to see. It drew gasps and shocked expressions from the group. “Tch! Such audacious behavior!” The woman scoffed with haughty contempt.

Milly, standing beside Marlin, tensed at the woman’s words. She opened her mouth to retort, but Marlin gently squeezed her arm, signaling her to hold back. Instead, he turned his full attention to the noblewoman, his expression unreadable.

"You think I’m pretending?" Marlin’s voice was soft, almost contemplative, his derisive scoff, shake of his head in disappointment made the noblewoman flinch. "Pretending to be what, exactly? A hero? A man trying to help protect his people? I’ve made little excuse of the man I am.” His eyes flickered dark purple as he spoke, the volume of his voice raised. “I hide little of who I am.” The way marlin said it felt like a blatant threat.

The woman hesitated, her bravado faltering. "You can’t deny what you are. You can wear the mask of civility all you want, deep down, you know. You’ll never belong here, not truly. You are a Dark Lord, a threat."

Marlin grinned wide and looked at Milly chuckling at the irony of the woman’s words, “you hear that Milly? Little old me appears civil to the people.” Milly could barely contain a snicker.

He turned back to the woman. Marlin’s lips curled into a dark smile. "You damn straight I’m a threat, just like you. Or do you honestly believe people listen to you because you are weak and a non-threat?”His grin reaching his ears now. “No they listen to you because you can enforce your rule.”

“Tell me. What’s the difference between you and me?” Marlin looked the haughty noblewoman straight in the eye and she withered under his eyes.

“How dare you compare yourself to us!” The black haired noble moved to back hand Marlin in the face but Marlin caught his hand easily. And flicked it away. His face unreadable. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” He turned around and Milly and the minions hurried after him.

”Milly this city is fucked if that’s the strength of our leaders.” Marlin had been deeply surprised. He had felt nothing from this particular noble no strength, no danger. Yet his clothing marked him as someone of importance.

”He struck me as a rich spoiled son of a noble. Not someone who actually makes decisions.” Milly chimed in.

”let’s hope so.” Marlin’s face was Dark.