Cedric of Clan Duncan was tired.

Tired in ways he didn't know were even possible.

Around the time his fellow Hero—and friend—Alex Roth had gone, looking for the sanctum of that ancient Fool as well as trying to keep the threat of the secret church away from all that was dear to him in Generasi and Thameland, things had grown more desperate with every day that had passed.

As the Chosen, he, his fellow Heroes and the Thameish army were constantly on the move, fighting Ravener-spawn day and night.

For some reason, the monsters had turned more aggressive, were better organised and even more powerful. There was a time when the fiercer leaders of their hordes—creatures like behemoths, hive-queens and gibbering legions—weren’t seen very often, usually waiting in dungeons, guarding their cores.

Things were different now, it seemed that every pack of Ravener-spawn was always accompanied by two or three of the more powerful beasts, and they acted strategically, striking at specific targets. They weren’t just waiting in the wilderness anymore, slowly building their numbers until they were ready to launch attacks on Thameland’s armies. Nowadays, dungeon cores seemed to be springing up almost as fast as mushrooms in the fall, and growing entire hordes of monsters in mere hours.

These armies of monsters weren’t just content to simply rampage haphazardly through the countryside; now they were also purposeful in their actions, attacking supply lines, seeking out the injured and the vulnerable. They were setting ambushes at river crossings, burning bridges and even attacking water supplies.

But more importantly, they weren’t stopping.

There were no more quiet periods; every waking moment saw Ravener-spawn testing the army’s defences or descending on their camps. Cedric’s days were now a constant waking blur of blood and battle, punctuated by sleepless nights filled with more blood and battle.

He doubted this night would be any different.

Under the light of the full moon, the Heroes and their soldiers had made camp in the ruin of an old fort at the top of Aldershot’s Cliff. On one side of the fort, a dark forest of snow covered pines stood; the ground beneath the canopy was wet and mucky, suggesting the first promise of spring.

Ravener-spawn tracks were everywhere.

On the other side of the fort was the cliff’s edge leading to a sheer drop of at least two hundred feet into a river and hilly landscape below. Cedric currently stood atop that cliff, gripping his weapon—formed into a spear—fighting to keep his eyes open as he stood guard, watching the countryside from above.

Spread across the fields below him, were the ruins of thousands of dead Ravener-spawn, staining the snows black and red. Great fires blazed among the dead, as priests and soldiers went about the business of gathering up the monsters’ bodies, and burning them on massive pyres.

In silence, Cedric watched the flames dancing above the snow.

The woods were quiet behind him, with most of the camp—including Drestra and Merzhin—getting some rest for as long as they could. Hart was out somewhere in the woods, patrolling.

He hardly slept these days, but seemed no worse for wear.

“Gotta keep up,” Cedric told himself. “Don't want t’be fallin’ behind everyone else. Ach, can't wait ‘til Alex gets back, hope, he’ll be bringin’ some good news.”

“I cannot wait either,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

His heart skipped a beat as he turned to find the beautiful Isolde floating down from the fort’s wall.

“Evenin’,” he said, when she landed near him. “Didn' expect y’to be up so late.”

“I fell asleep early,” she said, looking over the cliff. “The trouble I have these days is staying asleep.” The young noblewoman looked at him closely. “How are you? We did not have a chance to talk when I arrived earlier. You look tired.”

“Aye, s’because I’m tired.” He smiled weakly. “Been a drudge, lately.”

“I have heard it has become quite terrible on the front lines. Some of the soldiers were telling stories while you were out earlier. It appears things are far worse than I could have ever imagined,” she said.

“S’not been no bed o’ roses, I’ll give y’that,” Cedric admitted. “But who’d want to sleep on roses, anyway? They’re all full o’ thorns.”

She smiled at that, which made him very happy indeed. “I suppose you are right. It seems the beds we lie in are all thorns lately, considering how destructive the monsters are these days.”

“How goes the material gatherin’ anyway?” Cedric asked. “And what’re y’gathering’? By the time I got back from patrolling, you and Professor Jules had already turned in. I was curious.”

Her brow creased. “We are presently seeking more samples of Ravener-spawn and living dungeon cores. So far, we have deciphered enough of Uldar’s notes to determine certain things about the Ravener, but in order to test certain hypotheses we have developed, we need more dungeon cores.”

“An’ what hipop…hype…hippie…” Cedric stuttered.

“Hypothesis?” Isolde asked, her tone warm.

“Aye, that big, fat word!” he said.

She gave him a sweet laugh. “Well, what we are thinking is that Uldar’s construct can somehow take pure mana and certain other energies, and use them to create matter from nothing. To create living matter from nothing; that is a feat of wizardry and alchemy that very few can accomplish. Usually, it is the domain of deities alone…we think that ability might have something to do with how the Ravener can reconstitute itself from nothing. Making matter from nothing, reconstituting one’s self from nothing. Those things are not that different.”

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“I'll take yer word fer it,” Cedric said. “So ya need t’get a better look at more livin’ dungeon cores…an’ do more tests.” He smiled. “By the Traveller, you’re smart.”

She blushed. “I get that quite a bit—” The young woman paused, then winced. “I did not mean that arrogantly, it is simply that I perform well academically…my intelligence is a commonly known trait…but that is not to brag, or to insinuate that your mind is in anyway dull—”

“Aye, I know I’m as sharp as the smoothest rock at the bottom of a river,” he said.

“Yes—wait, smooth rocks are not in the least bit sharp,” she said, looking puzzled.

“Aye, that was the jest.”

“Oh, stop that!” she said. “You are far brighter than you admit, Cedric.”

“Aye, ‘bout as bright as a muddy footprint at midnight when there’s no moon.”

“Yes, er no! Cedric!” she protested.

He laughed, then. He didn't remember the last time he’d had a good long laugh. “I’m just makin’ sport wit’ ya, don’t ‘cha worry at all. ‘Besides, I know me own strengths an’ weaknesses. Yerself, Alex, Khalik, Thundar…all o’ya got these big fancy minds, full o’ big fancy thoughts, filled wit’ big fancy book learnin’ from yer big fancy school.” He smiled, his eyes lit up under the moonlight. Isolde took a long slow breath, and exhaled, touching her lips.

“That ain't me, an’ we both know it.” Cedric continued. “S’why I miss Alex, we’re doin’ all this fightin’, an’ lots o’ the soldiers want me t’do the leadin’ an thinkin’...but’ that ain’t what I’m best at. S’just a fact.”

“Cedric, knowing your own strengths and weaknesses makes you smarter than half the people I have met at that “big fancy school”,” she scoffed. “It is a place full of those who puff themselves up beyond their station, trying to shout to the world that they are brilliant and have talents that they in no way have. Instead, they have the meanest, most cur-like of ambition. And, little to back it.”

“Maybe that’s so, but I wouldn' mind havin’ someone else t’think o’ plans an’ helpin’ t’guide us,” Cedric said. “What we’re doin’ ain’t workin’, it’s like we’re just treadin’ water on some’ days. It’d be nice t’have Alex t’talk wit’ about all this. An’ Baelin too.”

“Is there no one?” Isolde asked. “Is there no one to advise you?”

Cedric tilted his head, thinking about that. “Eh, ‘advise’ is a bit of a strange word to use. The priests give advice, but they aren't our guides. S’different, y’know? They’re no mentors or equals. Wish we had that now. Instead, they’re lookin’ t’me fer leadership, but…I dunno, leadin’ so many feels like a coat that’s shrunk—too tight ‘round the shoulders, and not fittin’ quite right.”

“Alex is a good leader,” she said.

“An’ a good friend,” Cedric said. “All o’ yous are. Big regret o’ mine is that we didn’ get th’chance to know each other better. Be nice just t’be together y’know. All o’ yous. ‘Specially you, though.”

“I wish we could spend more time together as well,” she said softly. “Perhaps, when all of this is done…”

“Aye, but…before that…” He looked at Isolde closely. “There's something I gots t’tell you. I—”

Something snapped in the trees.

Isolde and Cedric turned toward the woods. “Don’t like the soun’ o’ that.”

“Me neither,” she said. “On the other side—”

Suddenly a bell began ringing.

“Ravener-spawn! To your posts!” a guard’s voice joined the clanging bell.

Grey beams of light lanced out from the trees, cutting through the darkness. The alarm abruptly stopped.

“Petrifiers!” Isolde cursed. “They must have bypassed Hart’s patrol!”

Cedric set his jaw. “They’ll be after Drestra. Go an’ make sure she’s awake, Merzhin an’ the Professor too! I'll hold ‘em off!”

“Alone?” Isolde asked.

He grinned at her, his golden tooth shining. “I might not be all that good at thinkin, or leadin’, but I’s the Chosen. Protectin’s somethin’ I'm damn good at!”

He cast flight magic on himself and soared over the ruin. Isolde watched him fly away, then turned, flying off to make sure the others were awake.

Cedric reached the trees, cursing.

The entire forest was alive with Ravener-spawn.

Twitching chitterers. Powerful bone-chargers. Hulking Skinless ones, and rising from their ranks, a host of more powerful monsters: behemoths, gibbering legions and even a gruesome-looking, multi-tentacled rampart crusher. Dozens of the Ravener’s Hunters dotted the enemy ranks and—though he could not see them—Cedric knew petrifiers had to be leading them.

“Right, Cedric,” he said, casting defensive magics over himself. “Remember, y’just got ta’ hold them beasties off fer maybe a minute or two…by yourself…not a problem.” He drew in a deep breath. “Alright, Ravener-spawn, let’s da—”

Suddenly a monster dropped from the sky.

A creature with a draconic lower body, and six arms that wielded as many weapons, landed on a behemoth, crushing it in the mud. In a blur, she lashed out with a glowing, bladed tail, and the weapons she was holding. She pointed a strange device at the rampart crusher, there came an ear-shattering crack and a barrel sized hole blew through the beast.

All around, masses of Ravener-spawn were dying in heartbeats.

Soon, more monsters, looking nothing like Ravener-spawn, appeared.

Hulking earth elementals rose from the ground, and storming air elementals floated from the sky. Winged humanoids—blazing with holy light—landed among the Hunters, cutting them down with flaming weapons.

In minutes, the Ravener-spawns’ ambush had become a slaughter.

A slaughter of Ravener-spawn.

Volleys of fireballs flew from the sky, exploding among the enemy. Hunters were turned to ash, and—more importantly—petrifiers were now outlined in flame, glowing like living targets announcing their positions.

The new monsters did not hesitate.

The towering six-armed woman levelled her weapon, releasing booming projectiles that punched massive holes through a petrifier, ripping through a line of trees behind it.

Earth elementals swarmed over the legs of another petrifier, dragging it deep into the ground as air elementals fried it with lightning. The winged beings fell on the last one, mangling it with holy lances and flaming swords.

Cedric stood, stunned, gaping at what was going on around him.

“You looked like you could use a hand,” a voice said from beside him.

He spun around, looking into the green eyes of a familiar, sorely missed friend. “Alex?” he cried.

The young wizard was floating beside him, with Theresa, Brutus, Grimloch and the two giants he’d met from that northern Empire.

“In the flesh,” Alex laughed. “I'm back.”

“Do y’got Baelin wit’cha?” Cedric asked, amazed at the destruction dealt by the army of summoned monsters. “Where in blazes did all these beasties come from?”

“They’re with me,” Alex said, pointing a finger at a Hunter, trying to escape the chaos. With a twitch of his brow, and a few muttered words, the young wizard struck the creature with a beam of magic.

It screamed, instantly turning to dust, particles floating through the air.

The Chosen’s eyes were close to bulging from his head. “Did you just—that spell…does that mean—”

“Yup,” Alex grinned. “There is no more Fool, my friend. The General’s back.”

“Then, why do y'all look so grim?” Cedric asked.

“We’ll explain later,” Theresa said. “We should tell everyone together. Are Drestra and Merzhin here?”

“Aye, an’ Isolde, an’ Professor Jules an’ some Watchers are here too. Hart’s out patrollin’, but after all the hells y’just raised, I’m sure he’s well on his way back.”

“Good. That’ll save time,” Grimloch said.

“Yeah,” Alex said, then reached to shake Cedric’s hand. “It's good to see you again. Come on, we’ve got information to share and some planning to do.”

At the word ‘planning’, the Chosen let out a relieved laugh. “By the Traveller, did I ever miss ya!”