A Thread of Fate was plucked.

Jurot managed a moment of respite against the onslaught, managing to slide under the Elder Flame Wolf, bringing his shield up as a paw slammed down against it. Thunder rumbled as the Elder Flame Wolf fell back, the thunderous force of Jurot’s magical shield forcing it away from him.

The Iyrman hopped onto his feet, gripping his axe tighter in hand. For once, he was not within his rage, having already used his rage earlier in the day to slay the beasts which they had come across.

The Elder Flame Wolf glanced back, noting how its allied were falling under the blade of several other Iyrmen, as Jaygak skewered a Flame Wolf, fire enveloping her for only a moment, before she stepped through it, her blade piercing another Flame Wolf. Bloodseeker tore the creature apart with ease, and she cackled in utter glee.

“Jurot!” Jaygak called, tossing the Flame Wolf aside as Kitool smashed the skull of another with her own staff, which was still keeping track of the Elder Flame Wolf.

“I am fine,” Jurot said, circling around the Elder Flame Wolf, it keeping pace with him. There were seven other Iyrmen about, each of them killing the remainder of the Flame Wolves, another facing a second Elder Flame Wolf.

One Elder Flame Wolf barked, and quickly, the pair of them darted in opposite directions. Jurot abandoned his own, instead following the Elder Flame Wolf which wasn’t under the effects of Kitool’s staff, and the other Iyrmen followed suit.

A Thread of Fate was plucked.

“We will set up camp here,” an older Iyrman said, looking out across the land. He was one of the ten leaders, members of the camp council, an Orcish Iyrman who was in charge of over a hundred Iyrmen, each at least Experts.

Jurot, Jaygak, and Kitool had been grouped with seven others. Eight martials and two casters, a Priest and a Bloodmage. That was the smallest unit which was formed out of the hundreds of Iyrmen, commonly known as a squad.

The ten groups of ten, known as a company, began to form the camp, which required half of the ten groups to dig a pit, and the other half to plant down wooden stakes which would form the walls of the camp. The camp itself was formed atop a small mound, with a forest in the distance, and hills further onward.

It required a few hours, and though there were some creatures which bothered them, the Priests, Bloodmages, and two members of each squad stepped out to defend the camp, assisted by the company’s council. The company’s council were all formed of the older and more experienced Iyrmen, though none were family members of any Iyrmen which formed part of the ten squads they were overlooking.

After a set of minor scuffles, the tents were put up, and the camp was made. Wooden walls around them provided some security, and though the council took refuge within the camp, the most junior member of each squad was set out on watch for an hour shift, to be replace by the next junior member. There were twenty members total which made the council, from the Captains of each squad, typically the most experienced Iyrmen from their squad, to the ten leaders who took command of the entire company.

“We will be dealing with any and all creatures which will come from the third week onwards,” the Orcish Iyrman said, he who ranked the highest in the entire camp. “We will dig out another metre into the earth, and the pit will be expanded by another five over the course of the next three days.”

Due to the fact it was a Great Twilight as opposed to a typical Twilight, a new fortification had to be made, formed out of the hardiest of wood, lathered in a liquid which would allow it to gain additional resistances against their foes. Usually, the hundred Iyrmen which formed a company would be able to claim a land a day’s walk in any direction, however, not five miles away, was another company of Iyrmen, and five miles beyond them, another, and so on, forming a long line of Iyrmen fortifications.

If they were to break, they would break towards their partnered company. However, such a break would be rare, as instead of the typical leaders, whom were usually Master Rank, the leaders given to each Company were Grandmasters.

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Plus, there was that man, who had returned from assisting the villagers in order to rain down lightning against the Iyr’s Beast Waves, which were far more fun. Though, there was also Elder Wrath, who had given up his title but continued his role as Elder Wrath for the Great Twilight, with a hundred Rukhs ready to assist if anything alarming were to occur.

“I am sure that you have someone in mind to form the Vanguard,” the Orcish Iyrman said, glancing around to the ten Captains. “However, until the two weeks pass, there is no need to think too deeply.”

One of the Captains thought about who he had wanted to send. His own group was fairly powerful, with a great Bloodmage and Priest, but there was also a Rage Dancer who had been setting himself apart from the rest, tackling great creatures by himself while the others caught up to him. ‘All three of them are so good,’ he thought, wondering which he’d pick. If it had been only the Bloodmage and Priest, he could flip a coin, but the Rage Dancer was quite good. For a moment, he felt a cold chill run through his back. ‘No,’ he eventually thought. ‘He is too young.’

A Thread of Fate was plucked.

A lightning bolt shot past Jurot’s head as the Bronze Wyvern blasted him with lightning. The battle had raged for so long that he was on his last legs, and if the Bronze Wyvern had struck him with its entire force, he’d have surely fallen.

‘Close,’ he thought, having been too slow to dodge it, and yet the lightning had missed, barely tickling him him across his neck and chest. He gripped his axe tighter in hand, before cutting across the creature’s neck, his blade piercing in deep, flame tickling along the creature’s neck, feeling the blood of the creature revitalise his aching muscles.

The Bronze Wyvern screeched, before it turned to face him, readying another blast of lightning, as a bolt of holy magic struck across its back, allowing Jaygak, who held her blade with both hands, to cut into the creature easier, tearing into its neck, lopping the creatures head off.

“Okay?” Jaygak asked, panting for breath, looking at the hundreds of creatures all around them, which the Iyrmen were already beginning to drag away.

“Okay,” Jurot said, panting, unsure of how the creature had missed him when it had stared into his eyes as it blasted him. ‘Is Adam enchanting?’

A Thread of Fate was plucked.

Jurot crashed up against the Giant Lizard, stopping it from charging towards the rest of the group. He hooked his hands together, gripping his wrists as he kept the Giant Lizard pinned to him. However, the Giant Lizard whipped its head around, and Jurot slipped off of its neck, landing on his feet, but with the Giant Lizard’s teeth clenching around his shoulder and neck.

Blood spilled down Jurot’s chest as he slowly fell unconscious, struggling against the Giant Lizard.

A Thread of Fate was plucked.

“Jurot!” Jaygak shouted, unable to wrestle the giant Amber Python off of her. Fortunately, Kitool was by her side, and the young Iyrman punched the creature, filling it with some of her inner energy, causing it to spasm and freeze, allowing Jaygak to slip free.

However, Jaygak wasn’t shouting for her own sake, as the Amber Python, which had flung itself towards the Bloodmage as she was preparing her spell. The magic was flooding through her veins as she summoned forth her magic, holding the diamond in hand.

For a moment, there was something cold in her heart as she called the words of magic, her fingers slowly shifting to summon forth the magic. The Amber Python was so close to swallowed her whole when a raging Jurot leapt up and wrapped himself around its head, shutting its mouth and jaw. It flung its head backwards, trying to knock Jurot off, but the Bloodmage closed her fist and the magic formed.

A small, ball of magic, almost the shape of her fist, shot forward towards the Amber Python. It was nearly clear, but the air vibrated constantly as it shot towards the creature, slamming it across its front, causing it to spasm, before it crashed against the other Amber Python.

“Okay?” Jurot asked the Bloodmage he was matched up with.

“Okay,” she replied, simply, sighing in relief as the Iyrman had come just in time to assist. She had been near the camp, and the trio were around to defend her and the Priest. The Amber Pythons had managed to slip through the other Iyrmen and had approached her, but luckily the trio had managed to deal with them.

A Thread of Fate was plucked.

After the waves and waves of creatures which had come to attack their camps, the Beast Wave was beginning to die down. The last few days of the Beast Wave were usually far simpler, though the Iyrmen remained on guard.

As bread was being baked, and the meats of the various creatures they had slain were being roasted and grilled, the leaders had come together in their tent. There were small badges being passed around, each with the patterns of the members of each unit, those who had been chosen for the Vanguard.

One kept a hold of the badge in hand, staring down at the pattern. A circle, formed of Iyrman blue, and diamonds, formed of lapis blue. If yesterday he had not thrown himself on the Amber Python, successfully wrestling it to the ground, perhaps his badge wouldn’t be in the Iyrman’s palm at this time.

“Have you made your choice?” the Orcish Iyrman asked. The one to send as part of the Vanguard was extremely important, but it needed to be finalised today.

The Iyrman, rolling the badge in hand, sighed.