Back at Oakheart Keep, the training grounds were filled with life, illuminated by the sun's warm embrace that stretched long shadows across the stone courtyard. Freya, a formidable figure in her own right, stood with unwavering confidence. In her hands, she wielded a spear that seemed to carry the weight of ancient wisdom. Its handle was forged from mysterious black metal, adorned with enigmatic silver runes that seemed to shimmer with a hint of mystical power. The spear's silver tip, sharp as the day Eldric Caerwyn first wielded it, glinted like a star against the blue sky.

Facing her were Kieran and Kormac, two brothers whose bond extended far beyond blood. Kieran, the older of the two at 49 years old with a warrior's knot holding his jet-black hair, was known for his exceptional swordsmanship. His weapon of choice was a shield and a sword, a combination that demonstrated both his tenacity and skill. Kormac, the younger brother at 47 years old, possessed a fiery red beard that seemed to mirror his fiery spirit. As the Master of Arms, his responsibility was to train and shape the recruits who aspired to join the Black Wardens. He, like Freya, favored a spear, its silver-tipped point catching the sunlight in dazzling displays.

Kieran had earned his place as one of the Watch's most elite fighters, his skill in combat almost unparalleled. Kormac, on the other hand, had embraced his role as the Master of Arms with unyielding dedication. He imparted his knowledge to the newcomers, shaping them into the defenders the realm needed.

They exchanged a nod—a silent acknowledgment of them to start. The spar began, a choreography of movement that showcased their honed skills and unspoken connection.

Freya's spear moved with a fluid grace, each strike a testament to her mastery of the weapon. With each clash, her black-handled spear parried Kieran's sword strikes with precision, and her evasive footwork dodged Kormac's thrusts. It was a dance of combat, a dance that Freya had long perfected.

Kieran's eyes flashed with determination as he lunged forward, shield raised. His strikes were calculated, his movements efficient. Kormac circled, his spear a symphony of feints and jabs, testing Freya's defenses.

Yet, despite their combined efforts, Freya's skill and strength proved insurmountable. Her spear work was unmatched, a blend of power and finesse that spoke of her dedication to her craft. She deflected Kieran's strikes with ease, her movements almost casual. Kormac's attempts to land a blow were met with swift counters that left him off balance.

As the spar intensified, Kieran's shield provided a solid defense, while Kormac's spear thrusts tested Freya's agility. Freya's spearwork was a dance of power and precision, the black handle an extension of her will. She anticipated their moves, countered their attacks, and slowly gained the upper hand.

With a swift maneuver, Freya disarmed Kieran and shattered Kormac's spear, leaving both brothers weaponless. The spar ended with Freya standing victorious, her spear still pointed at them.

Kieran's breath was heavy, his admiration clear in his gaze. "You've only grown stronger, Freya."

Freya grinned, her Caerwyn blood giving her strength beyond that of normal people. "What can I say, Eldric's blood flows through my veins."

Kormac chuckled, his chest heaving. "It's not only Eldric's blood that makes you who you are, Commander. Don't sell yourself short."

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"At my height I couldn't possibly sell my self tall!" Laughed Freya.

"I wish you'd stop with those jokes, Commander." Sighed Kieran while adding under his breath "They're not even that funny." Freya grinned menacingly "You know that my hearing is unnaturally sharp, don't you?" Making Kieran freeze luckyly for him a messenger approached Freya with a sealed letter in hand. Intrigued, she read its contents, her brow furrowing in disbelief.

Kormac's curiosity got the better of him. "Trouble?"

Freya sighed, a hint of exasperation in her tone. "Seems the king has decided to grace Oakheart with a ball. The celebration is coming to us this time."

Kormac's eyes widened, his expression a mix of surprise and incredulity. "A ball? Here?"

Freya's smirk was evident. "Seems that way. Kormac, you might want to dust off those dancing shoes and give our soldiers some dancing lessons as well."

Kormac's feigned horror elicited a laugh from Freya. "You can't be serious."

Freya's laughter was cut short as she excused herself, the news prompting her to seek out Master Scout Vlad for further instructions.

In the war room, Freya found Vlad poring over maps and reports. She leaned against the doorframe. "Vlad, cancel the scouting mission I mentioned earlier. We'll still send scouts into the mountains, but I want them to steer clear of those dark creatures."

Vlad nodded, engrossed in his work. However, as he looked up, a shadow crossed his face. "Commander Freya, there's something you need to know. One of our elite scouting parties has gone missing near the mountain foothills."

Freya's concern deepened, her brow furrowing. "Missing? This doesn't sound promising. Tell me what happened, Vlad," Freya said, her voice a mix of urgency and apprehension.

Vlad's expression was grim as he recounted the details. "The missing scouting team was composed of some of our finest. Led by Halgrim Stoneforge, a seasoned scout and a man with nerves of steel. They were on a routine reconnaissance mission in the foothills of the Avalorian Mountains, extending their usual route slightly further to gather more information on the region."

Freya leaned against a table, her arms crossed. "And they just vanished?"

Vlad nodded, his gaze distant as he spoke. "They reported in for the first couple of days, giving us regular updates on their findings. They even managed to send back some maps and observations. But then, the one delivering the news disappeared and did not report in." Vlad's features tightened. "Halgrim was an experienced scout. He knew how to navigate through tricky terrain or send a pigeon in case of something suspicious. And that's not all. One of our secondary teams went out to investigate when we lost contact. They found traces of a struggle—weapons and equipment scattered, signs of a skirmish."

Freya's concern deepened, her fingers tapping on the table's surface. "So, they were attacked?"

Vlad nodded gravely. "It appears so. The marks on the ground suggest a brief yet intense struggle. And then, nothing. No sign of the team members, no bodies, no traces."

Freya's jaw clenched as she absorbed the information. "Dark beasts?"

Vlad's eyes held a mix of frustration and uncertainty. "It's possible, but the signs are puzzling. The patterns don't match the typical behavior of the creatures we know. It's almost as if..."

"As if something else is at play," Freya finished his sentence, her tone heavy with implication.

Vlad nodded, his gaze meeting Freya's with a shared understanding. "Exactly."

The weight of the situation settled over them. The scouting team's disappearance was an ominous mystery that defied explanation. Freya's fingers traced the runes etched into the hilt of her spear, a testament to the ancient legacy that bound her. "We need to find out what happened," she said, determination lacing her words.

Vlad's expression was resolute. "Agreed. I've already dispatched two more scouting parties to search for the missing team. We'll wait for news, but we should also prepare for the worst."

"The banquet and now this," Freya muttered, her frustration evident. "Seems like the tides are changing."

Vlad's gaze held a somber edge. "Troubling times, indeed."

In the midst of the afternoon sun shining upon the training grounds and the grandiose plans for the ball, a cloud of unease gathered around the news of the missing scouting team. The day's ambiance had shifted, as worry settled among the walls of Oakheart Keep.