Liam paced the dimly lit halls of Green’s ancestral home, feeling every ounce of the baron’s responsibility pressing down upon his shoulders. Blackwood’s men gave up their pursuit, most likely chased off by the roving monsters, creatures that Liam was now responsible for. Since Baron William Green was the lord protector of these lands that made Liam the lord protector, for as long as he inhabited Green’s body. Despite Green never truly bearing the mantle of lordship.

Of course he had been appointed lord with proper ceremony and celebration, but he had always fled from difficulty, delegating any and all responsibilities to anyone willing to take them, while outright ignoring others. His shirking created an impressive network of mayors and councils, a bureaucracy that would be right at home in the —far larger— capital. So long as their taxes were paid, Green had left his towns and cities to their own machinations, thinking that autonomy would solve Greenwood’s problems.

It had not, and for Liam, it was an unmitigated disaster. This was like starting a round of risk with no reinforcements and a single territory. One that happened to be in the middle of an Asian land war. What he had on hand in Greenhaven was everything he would get.

Customarily, a Baron would receive aid from their direct liege lord, a tradition that Blackwood had already refused. Subsequently leaving Liam to make his plea to the king, a journey of weeks or months depending on which route one took. Help would never arrive in time, we are on our own… Thought Liam.

In the days after their arrival Nyota’s healing abilities had managed to rehabilitate his body, but she could only cast minor healing spells a few times a day. While each day a new report of monsters reached him, often borne by an injured man, or a woman who had lost her husband to it. Unable to stand idle Liam ordered Nyota to heal them instead of himself, yet it wasn’t enough. Green’s people, no Liam’s people, now required more healing than Nyota had to give.

Liam rubbed his temples, trying to absorb the half dozen letters that lay on his breakfast table. Greenwood Keep was an ancient fortress, built long before humans set foot on this continent. It had been repurposed, with centuries of renovations and expansions that led to the town of Greenhaven being built around the fortification. Still, medieval technology was limited to additions, with no capability of expanding the narrow corridors or uncanny rooms with no perceivable purpose. The first floor of Greenwood Keep was constructed of enormous boulders, each rock larger than a gas guzzling humvee, far grander than anything masons of this era could work on.

The second floor of the keep was just as unusual, with blocks of obsidian and columns of granite comprising its structure in an arrangement that gave the Keep a feeling of narrowness. As if it had been made for beings thinner than humans but eight or nine feet tall, the window sill sat at an even five feet above the floor, an unpleasant height that always troubled the maids and annoyed the guards, despite the scaffolding their ancestors had constructed.

For what it was worth, Liam hated the high windows since they somehow always managed to reflect sunshine into his eyes, no matter the time of day.

Once upon a time, the keep had housed inhuman creatures, servants of the old gods. Monsters that ruled over humanity in time immemorial, and have been largely forgotten. No tapestries or paintings of the being existed, but their obsidian buildings —similar to Greenwood Keep— dotted the land. The church kept records of known civilization humanity, and as they told the legend, Therun Taloc, God King of humanity, was the human who purged Greenwood keep. Slaying the beings who oppressed humanity in one stop along his long war of ascension.

Besides their meager farming exports, that tale was why Greenwood Barony existed as a lordship at all. The northernmost town of Avignon and the city of Mont St Michel marked two obsidian structures that were mentioned by name in Taloc’s scripture, making them holy sites. Places of worship that supported pilgrims who sought some form of enlightenment from walking in his steps.

God must be laughing at me. I stopped going to church when I was twelve and now I am a baron who owes everything he has to the state religion. Ick. I feel dirty.

The infallible Captain Arlet and a knight in dusty plate armor, entered the chamber with a grim expression etched on his battle-hardened face. His eyes met Liam’s, and the unspoken gravity of the situation suffocated his wayward thoughts.

“Baron Green,” Arlet spoke with a voice burdened by their dire situation, “our knights have returned from their patrol, they found a dozen of Blackwood’s outriders dead on the road.”

“Did our knights return safely?” Asked Liam.

“Yes my lord. This is their commander if you wish to hear the full report, but thankfully they did not encounter any living foes.” Said Arlet.

“Excellent, tell me what you found.”

“Yes sir!” Said the knight at Arlet’s side, removing his helmet he knelt, eyes averted.

Dude, you’re twice my age! Stop kneeling and parading around in front of me, it’s weird.

“Ahem, there is no need for formalities at the breakfast table, else we will never be able to move onto lunch. Now please, what did you find?” Chuckled Liam sarcastically.

“As you wish my lord.” He said, rising to his feet without a hint of mirth.

“We followed your orders and patrolled the road to Mont St Michel, seeking parlaynce from Blackwood’s men. Instead we found families fleeing their homes. We rendered what aid we could, and asked for reports of what had driven them from their fields. They should be harvesting crops this week, not fleeing from fat fields to cower within our walls.” Said the knight, his voice dipping into a snarl as he spoke.

Liam had become accustomed to this vehemence from Green’s memories. Food is life, the harvest must be brought in to survive the winter, that is just how things are. Preservation techniques are highly limited, drying food or covering things in salt is about all we can do… Man, I never thought the most desirable modern amenity would be a canning factory.

“Many have arrived safely. In fact, I have already heard some of their pleas, small green creatures with pointy ears, and hounds of flame, even a report of wild dogs that vanish momentarily, only to appear nearby.” Said Liam.

“Yes lord, I am glad to hear they arrived…” Said the knight, a vein in his neck bulging with insincerity. “We encountered a pair of those burning dogs, thank Taloc for your warning, bloody currs were tough enough to break half our lances, had we not brought extra…” He shuddered, “I tremble to think how many of us would have been burned by their flames.”

Arlet shot a meaningful look to Liam, who in turn acknowledged both men with a nod.

“We should take note of your experience and spread it to all our knights. Take any monsters to the butcher, a post mortem dissection could help us understand exactly how different these beasts are from the wolves we know.” Said Liam, stroking his beard with one hand.

During college he had kept himself clean shaven, but Green was far older, and had been sporting a beard that Liam was beginning to enjoy. It helped him think, like stroking a cat.

“A butcher. Surely you don’t mean to eat them Lord Green?” Asked the knight, eyes growing wide.

“Eat a hellhound? Oh god no. I want to know how they burn! How can they just run around all day, literally on fire. It’s incredible! How is that possible? We can assume magic is involved, but what if we domesticated a pair of hellhounds? Winter is near at hand, and having an endless supply of heat would be a tremendous boon.” Shouted Liam, excitement bubbling over his sense.

His last dog had been a golden retriever, a rosey ball of fluffy love that Liam missed dearly since moving away from home. In spite of that love, life in college dorms and Sarah’s allergy had prevented him from realizing that dream.

Two open mouths stared at Liam.

“Don’t give me that look! We breed hunting hounds every year, who is to say we could not breed hellhounds as well? Ha, that is just an idle musing, no one has reported their flames spreading to the trees around them so it made me wonder. Anyways, continue please.”

“A, ah, visionary! plan my lord.” Stammered the knight, “Ahem, we encountered a patrol of outriders a half day’s ride beyond the walls of Mont St Michel. A dozen men were dead and their horses had been torn apart, eaten by some creature far larger than a hellhound. We procured their weapons and armor for your armory.”

Liam nodded his head. Searching across his table for the brick of slate he was using to keep tallies of each monster that had been reported. Six more tallies to the hellhound count gave it a grand total of forty seven.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

That’s more wolves than the fiefdom kills in a year, we are positively swimming in Hell… hounds.

“We liberated their supplies and reported to the church’s militia in Mont St Michel my lord…” His voice trailed off, hesitating.

This would be so much easier if the knights thought I wasn’t a pile of excrement. Green, why did you have to go and destroy your reputation?

“Spit it out, can’t you see I have dozens of reports to read? Quit wasting my time!” Snapped Liam.

“Yes sir! The militia of Mont St Michel, as well as the clergy, has reported monsters appearing inside their walls! Bees the size of children, and they speak of figures in the woods, beings that appear to be human until one calls out, then they show their red eyes. They had one more thing to report, it sounds impossible, but Matimeo himself swore he had seen it with his own eyes, a river of purple that appears out of the aether and creates monsters!” Said the Knight, sounding bashful, as if he had just finished reciting a children’s fairy tale.

Purple rivers. May as well call it purple rain for all the sense it makes.

“Have no fear, every patrol has reported some variant of your story. If that concludes your report then you may go, rest and eat while you can, the coming days will soon test our strength.” Said Liam.

The knight bowed quickly and jogged out of the chamber, leaving a distraught lord and an uncomfortable captain behind him.

“Milord, I have another report “ Captain Arlet’s voice was steady, but his words were a harbinger of despair.

Man, getting information from these guys is like waxing a cat. Difficult, painful, weirdly loud, and entirely too time consuming. Liam gestured for Arlet to speak, not wanting to snap at him or say something thoughtless.

“While we were away our first company of men at arms, your personal guard, sought to put an end to a ‘purple river’ with violence, one near Kesky. They entered the portal the day after we left and have not returned. The report mentions that residents of Kesky village saw armored creatures exiting the portal our men had tried to seal.”

Liam’s heart slowed as he listened, nearly stopping at the mention of ‘armored creatures, could a portal change humans into monsters? He shuddered, they would be doomed if that were the case.

The first company was locally considered to be a company of champions, a necessary deception that Baron Green had spread himself. Since he was a cowardly man the appearance of military prowess did wonders for the local order. If a peasant stepped out of line they would face judgment at the hands of a ‘champion’. At least, that is what he said to Arlet, in truth the first company existed to compensate for his own lack of character, surrounding himself with men who showed even a hint of talent.

“What of the Greenhaven militia? Have any returned to us since they were given leave to participate in the harvest?” Liam said, hoping for an ounce of good news amidst the ten tonnes of reports.

Someone really powerful hates Baron Green. They’ve been watching us for years, this is the poorest year in a decade, exports are down, pilgrims are poor, the church’s aid is late, last winter was a long one, meaning spring came late, and the portals appeared exactly after we disbanded the militia for our harvest.

“Indeed there is. One score remains in our service, I’ve recalled the others but…”

“But you can’t send lone messengers out and even if you could it would take weeks to spread word and days for everyone to journey here.”

“Tis exactly as you say sir…”

“Chin up Arlet, don’t let your despair show. All we can do is pray that the militia rallies in each town, that they band together to avoid being picked off one at a time by roving packs of hellhounds.“ Said Liam.

Arlet nodded. Both men knew the militiamen were already dead. Taloc would be showering them in miracles for every militant who made it back to Greenhaven.

“I’ll start training a new platoon, we can mix in some of the knights and veterans to give them a spine. It may prove productive to form patrols who can scour the countryside, rescuing those who are trapped in their homes or otherwise isolated. Wolves cannot open doors or climb trees, but humans can.“ Arlet said.

“An excellent suggestion Arlet, but one we cannot afford to indulge in. You may recruit anyone who is not actively involved in growing food, but we must focus on bringing in the harvest. Gather all the refugees and wagons, requisition them by force if necessary. Take them and use them to harvest the local fields with an armed escort to keep them safe. When winter arrives we can drill all day and night, but spring will never come if we all starve to death.” Liam said.

Captain Arlet paused, a frown crossing his face. “A… Sound judgment my lord…”

To Liam his words sounded conflicted, like a balloon that had been untied and was deflating slowly, instead of exploding with a bang. With that in mind Liam began to wonder if Arlet, captain of champions, wanted to die. It makes sense, what warrior wants to grow old and wither away? That sort of ending never makes for a good song…

“Tell me, Arlet, what else can be done?” Liam demanded, voice quivering as he tried to hide his unease.

The captain’s eyes met his, unwavering in their loyalty, even in the face of such dire circumstances.

“I do not have the answer m’lord. We are out of money, food, and manpower, even now we cannot defend Greenwood Keep. Whatever you do, it must be decisive. Mont St Michel’s report of flying monsters troubles me above all else, even moreso than the first company’s potential… erm… conversion. If intelligent or flying creatures appear we will be at their mercy. I am loathsome for even considering this, but could we not send another message to the surrounding nobles-“

“Viscount Blackwood is our liege lord, He controls the lands to our north, our south, our east, and our west. As well as the baronies beyond them. Do you really think he will send us even one man?”

“I- ah... My apologies lord.”

“We will have to go above his head.” Said Liam.

“Are you sure that is wise? I remember some unsavory business with Marquess Whitefield and Duke Hamilton.”

Their names drudged up some of Green’s memories, a common enough occurrence that he had learned to cope with. Closing his eyes Liam welcomed the new information into his brain, accepting the gift of free knowledge. It’s not as good as the internet, but I’ll take anything at this point.

Supposedly Marquess Whitefield had seduced Duchess Hamilton, trapping her in a love triangle between the northern region’s most powerful men. In truth, Baron Green had spread rumors of an affair between the two senior nobles, repeating the lie to intrigue maids. Alcohol tainted the memories —like it always had— confusing their origins and calling into question the validity of the rumor.

“Indeed… We have no choice, when they ignore our requests I will seek aid from the king himself, assuming we can find our way to the capital.”

“A baron troubling the king! My lord, that is not something you should jest about.”

Liam held up nine letters as he spoke.

“I have already written four letters for each of them. Here are your copies. We will send these letters to our different lords and when they fail to respond we shall appeal to the king. I do not take this matter lightly Arlet.”

“Lord Green, you could be killed for your insolence! Think rationally, I beg of you.”

“Arlet! Look at these numbers! In two months we will have a monster for every human in my lands. In three months there will be two monsters for every person, a happy pair of hellhounds for every man, woman, and child in our Barony!”

Captain Arlet’s jaw worked, wanting to challenge his lord, to save him from himself. Yet he knew what needed to be done, and as his lord’s champion Arlet would lay down his life for Baron Green. But politics only became more complicated if you stabbed someone. This was the domain of nobles and pedigree, not a battlefield. The armored knight rubbed his own temples, wringing a grim smile to Liam’s lips.

“As you wish. My lord.”

“Fear not, I know how we will defend Greenwood, it’s a little philosophy I call triage. We will visit each town, if they can survive on their own, we’ll leave them be, if they require aid, then they will become our aid. Avignon, Petra, and Kesky will be our first stops, any beasts we find along the way must be beheaded. To create evidence for his majesty. That ought to be enough to earn his attention, if only for a moment.”

“Your orders are the wisest you have ever given me, they shall be executed as you have commanded. However there is another matter I wish to discuss…” Arlet added.

Liam nearly lept for glee, he was winning over Arlet! Hopefully I can keep this up, otherwise he might end up stabbing me in my sleep… Should I have Nyota keep watch? She is the only one who seems completely faithful to the, uhm, new and improved Baron Green.

“Magic, you want to discuss magic.” Liam said, struggling not to sigh.

“Indeed my lord! It is so! We have no mages in Greenhaven, the clergy gathered in Mont St Michel while our green wizards are missing! But these rivers of purple water must be arcane in nature, a vestige of a dead god or a curse! The few men unlucky enough to behold them with their own eyes report foreign lands. Trees and plants they do not recognize, rivers that run red, and strange creatures. We must consult a sage.”

Hey, I like this idea, I thought he was going to talk nonsense about lightning mages being Talot’s special snowflakes or something. Liam nodded his head, smiling at the suggestion. Arlet’s humility pleased him greatly, a rare trait since experienced soldiers —especially noble born knights like Arlet— tended to grow arrogant over time. Their pride swelling until they thought they knew everything and stopped consulting others.

“My mind and memories are still foggy Arlet. Where is the nearest sage?”

“Sage Rhendal is the closest… I know you have a history with him, but the others are missing…”

Rhendal, I remember Green having a falling out with him long ago. He was also the sage who tested Green’s mana and tutored him for a brief time. Why did they fall out? I can’t remember any details… Drat, Green must have killed those memories with alcohol.

“Rhendal’s tower is a day’s march from here, I can swallow my pride for that long. Rally an escort and some servants, if diplomacy fails, at least we can try bribing the old man. Let us make for the sage’s dwelling while the day is still young.”

A small benefit of having so few men was that Liam did not have to wait long for them to gather. Three armored knights and six militia joined him in the courtyard, forming an armed escort for the brief ride to Rhendal’s tower.

By some twist of fate Rhendal had decided to take up residence within sight of Greenwood keep, so close that on clear days the crown of his tower could be seen from Greenwood’s highest towers. Deceptively close.