A field of bodies lay spread across one's sight. Whether it was the courtyard of the fort, its ramparts, outside, or inside the fort itself the bodies were spread out. Yet these bodies did not exhibit many of the normal aspects of the aftermath of a battle. Even if it was only three hours after their deaths they still did not exhibit many of the signs of death. Rigor mortis had not quite set in and there was a strange lack of the smell associated with so much death. Perhaps it helped that the light was eternally cast over or that there was always a slight chill in the air. Yet here in this land there were other dangers, some bodies already seemed to twitch on the ground despite their grievous wounds. Through this field strode many skeletons, most were apparently scavenging the area. Arms and armour were stripped and gathered, while bodies were transported to carts waiting around the area. Walking upon the ramparts were a group of figures dressed in robes.

One strode with a strange gem and crystal spear in hand while the others mostly carried bone staffs except for one who walked with a sword belted to his waist. Beside the one with the spear the others were young, from 14-18 these were only young adults. Already some had pale faces from the blood having drained yet none looked in danger of becoming sick. They had seen similar things before in their life, little that it was so far. Yet this was on another scale for them, thousands lay dead across the land. Halting by a bloodsoaked ladder where the bodies had not yet been cleared from that part of the walls the group is halted by the leader. Turning to the others he gestures grandly with one hand to the scene around him before speaking.

“Gaze upon the carnage here today. Death, Death in its bleak aftermath. I will not lie, many here died for a cause they never believed in. The resentment and despair is palpable as you should be able to see. The agros de mortis seems to especially bring it out. I will not deny my part, by my will and order did these four thousand human beings die. This is the reality of the world, war is not something that we humans can seem to ever let go. You four came here for various reasons, but remember what you see before you. Death is rarely ever sweet, never take pleasure in killing. Especially never for pointless killing, the day that occurs is likely the day I will have to end you as well. There must be a reason for killing, something strong enough to be able to break that seemingly duplicitous human nature. We so yearn to not kill, yet seem so capable of doing so under the right circumstances”

The apprentice steward turns to his mentor and replies “But isn’t the reason we grow stronger is to be able to stand on our own?”. The other two apprentices nod and David simply taps his sword in thought. To this the Hierarch necromancer lightly thumps his spear into the ground and adds his counterpoint, “Yes an admirable reason but you have to decide, is that truly what you wish for? Relentless pursuit will cause heartache in the end, moderation in all things is key. You can listen to what I say but in the end you must make the decision for yourself” Turning to the horizon in the west he points at it before returning his gaze to the group.

“What may come deep down the road of life is never truly certain. But I know that the blood shed here today will not be the last, more will come. Life in this land will never truly be sheltered, there will be much slaughter in the future. Remember this, sometimes one can only rise up and take hold of what one wants. Peace is never something freely given, make of this quiet calm what you can”

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“Then let them come, I will never let them conquer us again”. David speaks with much conviction but to this is only given a head shake. “Yes they will come, but it will not be the ones actually responsible for what has happened before. It will be their hapless pawns, do not hate the masses for they are but sheep. Hate the shepherd and sheepdog for bringing them to be slaughtered. Hate can bring you much strength but it can also bring sorrow. Do not descend too deep into such an abyss. Now come with us, I think the people could use a calming presence. War always brings up the best and worst of people, do not dwell forever on this particular field”

The group slowly descends the ramparts through the cleaned courtyard and into the fort itself. While they have been talking and observing the outside the bodies were removed. Even the ground itself was swept clean by a skeleton mage as they head through to a seemingly normal room. Hidden inside is a teleportation matrix as the group enters a large hall. Striding past the guards the group is dismissed for the day as their mentor heads his own way. The group of youths walk outside the fortified villa that houses the matrix and decide to walk the newly build roads. Wide enough to accommodate six carriages traveling abreast with space between it is one of the main avenues of the newly built city. All around the sound of hammers and saws echo as workers both undead and living create a new land. As far as the eye can see partially built walls stretch around this central district. Undead swarm on scaffolds bearing baskets of dirt and great hammers 24/7 work to finish these walls.

The trio take the time to walk to a large garden established in the south-eastern portion of the district. Here plants can grow in natural daylight as does much of the city. Great pillars of magic stone absorb and cleanse the air allowing almost the entirety of the sun’s light to reach the city. Barring of course the shadow’s that they cast, a rare bit of paradise in this cursed land. Yet this beauty is not theirs to always be able to ponder, they are the wardens of the city. The sword and shield, trained to protect it as dictated by their mentor. As much as they are allowed freedom, new chains rise to restrict them. Chains of responsibility and debt. Yet they willingly take it, the door is never barred for them to leave. Freedom is a concept that is only allowed as far as it benefits the group.

But on the countenances of those living workers on break as well in the garden there is no sign of depression. Instead there is even happiness and satisfaction, to be able to live safe within the walls. To be able to build what would eventually become not only their homes but homes to countless others who were once bound like they were. Life is actually good for these people, they do not need to worry about a place to sleep or even to raise a family. Neither do they have to worry about their next meal or a job to take. For them this is enough, they are honest men and woman. To them their lord is strict yet benevolent, crime is punished harshly while taxes are light. Their lord cares only a little for such material as gold, silver, or copper, they instead dedicate time to public projects such as this for their tithe.

The common people have even grown numb to the countless bones that are often dug up from the earth, such are things of the past and matters for those greater than them. They bring such items to the carts that are for such a purpose while those of their own are interned as ashes in the graveyard of the city. It is not their kin who become undead at the will of their lord, those who live here have grown beyond such petty concerns. Their common anger at the kingdom is but one of the pillars that bind their hearts. Binds made deliberately and slowly by a mastermind. Yet time goes on and brings its cycles of life for those in this massive world, what is but one land in the many planes of existence?