Arcadia, the sprawling behemoth of a continent on Terra, stretched across a staggering 400 million square kilometers. Its vast size encompasses a diverse range of landscapes, climates, races, and cultures. From lush forests and sprawling plains to rugged mountains and arid deserts, Arcadia offers a diverse range of environments for its inhabitants.

The unforgiving north, known as Fenris, dominated a significant portion of Arcadia, claiming roughly 20% of the continent's landmass. This frozen wasteland, home to the first Northmen, was characterized by its harsh and unforgiving climate. Icy tundras stretched endlessly, punctuated by snow-capped mountains and vast expanses of frozen terrain as far as the eye could see.

The western half of Fenris, shrouded in mystery and isolation, stood separated from the rest of the frozen north by a mountain range. These towering peaks, unlike any natural formations found elsewhere in Arcadia, serve as a formidable barrier, preventing easy passage between the two halves of Fenris and the rest of Arcadia.

Legend whispered of these mystical mountains being shaped by the Aspects, particularly Gaia, the Aspect of the Earth. According to this belief, Gaia's divine power shaped the mountains, imbuing them with mystical properties and serving as a barrier.

On the other hand, a select group of scholars holds a different theory, suggesting that the dragons, ancient and powerful beings of myth and legend, were responsible for creating the mountains. These scholars propose that the dragons, with their immense magical prowess, shaped the landscape of Fenris to their liking, erecting the formidable peaks as a means of safeguarding their territory and secrets.

An ancient diary of the adventurer who joined the Watchers millennia ago offered intriguing evidence supporting the theory that the dragons were indeed responsible for creating the mountains in Fenris. According to this account, the Keeper of Secrets of the Watchers revealed an ancient stone tablet that spoke of the dragons and their role in shaping the landscape of Fenris.

Regardless of the origin attributed to them, the unnatural mountains of western Fenris hold a place of reverence and mystery in the hearts and minds of Arcadia's inhabitants. They are seen as symbols of power and protection, as well as reminders of the ancient forces that shaped the world in ages past.

"We're here," Aron suddenly announced, drawing the attention of his companions to a structure in the distance. As they gazed upon it, their eyes widened in awe and curiosity. The first thing they saw was a massive wall, towering an astonishing 100 meters tall and stretching for miles in either direction, connecting two mountains and effectively sealing the gap between them.

The wall, standing four meters thick, was built from sturdy stone and fortified with powerful enchantments—primarily to ease the pressure on the foundation. Its imposing presence commanded respect and admiration, a testament to the craftsmanship and ingenuity of those who had constructed it.

Beyond the wall, was the frozen land of Fenris, shrouded in an icy veil that seemed to stretch to the ends of the earth. Snow-capped peaks pierced the horizon, and icy tundras spread out as far as the eye could see, a desolate and unforgiving landscape that claimed the lives of those who dared to venture into its depths.

"How the hell is this called a keep?" Aron exclaimed as his eyes landed for the first time on the structure known as The Frostguard Keep. "This is a bloody fortress!"

The Frostguard Keep, as it was known, seemed to meld seamlessly with the natural rock of the mountain, its walls rising from the rugged terrain with an air of permanence and strength. Carved into the very heart of the mountain, it stood as an impenetrable fortress.

Regular walls were built on the opposite side of Fenris, unlike the towering 100-meter main wall; these walls appeared more modest in comparison, yet no less formidable. Made of sturdy stone and fortified with defensive measures, they stretched across the landscape, serving as an additional line of defense against both the dangers of the wild and potential invaders. After all, you never knew when some asshole kingdom decided to invade Frostguard and fucked up the entire continent.

Aron, mounted on a brown horse, approached the main gate on this side. He had previously purchased two horses at a hefty price of 20 gold coins in the village nestled at the foot of the mountain, which drove Viper crazy. The price of a single horse was double the usual cost in Larton.

She tried to negotiate on the price, but the seller refused to budge, which was reasonable considering that trade in these parts had been almost non-existent for the past two years, driving the prices of nearly everything up two or three times. So they reluctantly bought them at that price.

It was merely a matter of appearances. Aron didn't truly need the horses. What would the men think if they saw their new commander entering the fortress on foot and carrying no luggage?.

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To avoid raising suspicion and unnecessary questions, Aron bought the horses and ordered Viper to cast her invisibility spell while riding one. He didn't forget to place some leather bags on the horse to maintain the illusion of luggage.

Kasumi, concealed within Aron's shadow, remained hidden from view, while Raum perched confidently on Aron's shoulder.

"HOLD!" the gate guard commanded, raising a hand for Aron to stop. His leather armor and fur cape hinted at the bitter cold of Fenris, and the symbol of the Frostguard emblazoned on his round wooden shield marked him as a defender of the keep—a crossed hammer and sword above a tower.

Aron halted his horse, meeting the guard's gaze with a steady look. "Good evening."

"Good evening, sir," the guard responded respectfully, his voice carrying a hint of weariness from his duty at the gate. "What business do you have here, young sir?"

"I..." Aron began, about to announce he was the new Lord Commander, but then he stopped.

'Barging in as their new boss wouldn't be fun, plus I want to see everything through the eyes of a regular soldier,' he thought.

A smirk played on Aron's lips. He dismounted his horse, the animal's snort echoing in the area before the gate walls. He met the guard's gaze, a calculated glint in his eyes.

"I'm just a humble mercenary," he said, his voice adopting a casual, almost carefree tone. "Seeking glory and honor in the ranks of the Watchers."

The guard's brow furrowed slightly. While mercenaries weren't uncommon, very few chose to voluntarily join the Frostguard, especially those as young as Aron appeared to be in the guard's eyes.

"Mercenary, huh?" he said, his voice gruff. "Sorry, lad, there's no glory here, only death and the damn cold."

"No glory, huh?" Aron echoed, his voice losing its previous carefree tone. "You sure?"

"Of course! ...Do you think a life of hardship, where you'll suffer from hunger, sickness, and cold, is something glorious?" The guard paused, spitting on the ground.

"I can't even take a leak without feeling the pain, and that's the least of my concerns, especially when the month of the monster waves is upon us." The guard's voice trailed off, replaced by a deep sigh. He rubbed a hand over his face, the weariness etched into his features deepening.

"Look, lad," he started, his voice gruff but softer now. "Glory is for bards and fools. Here, at the Frostguard, we fight for something more. We fight for survival, for the people we protect, and for the hope that one day, this damn cold won't bite so deep."

Aron absorbed the guard's words, forming a picture of the situation inside the fortress. He understood the weariness that clung to the man like the biting Fenris wind. Life here was harsh, devoid of the glamour and glory bards often sang about. Yet, beneath the gruff exterior, a flicker of something else shone through - determination and the will to survive.

"I see," Aron finally replied, his voice carrying newfound respect for the guard. "And what about the Watchers?"

The guard shook his head. "The Watchers are gone, lad, only two members remain, and they're not even the true Watchers of old. They just carry the name."

Aron's expression shifted, a mixture of surprise and concern flickering across his features. The revelation that the Watchers, once revered and respected defenders of Frostguard Keep and Arcadia, had dwindled to a mere shadow of their former selves struck a chord within him.

'Sigh... This is going to take a lot of work, I can already see that,' he thought, a flicker of doubt creeping in. But he had made his decision, and there was no turning back.

"Thank you for your honesty," Aron said, his voice sincere.

The guard nodded, a weary but appreciative smile crossing his lips. "You seem like a decent lad. I advise you to reconsider joining."

Aron displayed a smile at his words. "I appreciate the advice," he replied, his tone resolute. "But I've made my decision. I'm here to see it through."

The guard sighed, a hint of resignation in his expression. "Very well," he said, stepping aside to allow Aron passage through the gate. "Just remember, lad, the Frostguard is not for the faint of heart."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Aron passed through the gate. The moment he stepped inside, his initial determination and excitement dropped instantly to the negative.

"Damn you, Thyra, you set me up for this," he muttered under his breath

The conditions inside were… well, like shit… To compare it to "shit" would be an insult to shit itself.

The interior of Frostguard Keep was indeed a stark contrast to the imposing exterior. As Aron stepped inside, he was greeted by a scene of dilapidation and despair. The once-mighty fortress now appeared worn and weathered, its walls scarred by battle and neglect.

'How the hell am I supposed to defend this?' The thought echoed in his mind.

The air inside was thick with the smell of decay and desperation, and the sound of coughing and groaning echoed through the main courtyard. Frostguard's defenders, haggard and worn, went about their duties with a sense of resignation, their spirits crushed by the harsh realities of life in Fenris.

Aron's heart sank as he took in the scene before him. This was not the proud and noble order he had imagined, but a shadow of its former self, clinging to survival amidst the unforgiving wilderness of Fenris.

"Master, what are we going to do now?" Viper standing completely invisible beside him whispered.

Aron was about to reply when a loud commotion caught his attention. In one corner of the courtyard, two figures were locked in a heated argument, seeking shelter from the biting wind and swirling snow.

"Hey! You lost fair and square, hand it over now!" A young man with messy brown hair yelled, his anger evident. He was being restrained by an elf, who appeared more composed but equally tense.

The other man, frail-looking with a hunched back and a face that you won't trust not in a million years, took a few steps back, hiding under his shirt something wrapped in cloth.

Seeing this, the brown-haired man lunged forward, his fists clenched in fury. But the elf friend intervened once again.

"Forget about it, Leo, we can find another one," the elf advised calmly.

"NEVER!" Leo cried, shaking off the elf's grip. He used the small table in front of them, littered with scattered cards, as a springboard to launch himself into a powerful flying kick, connecting with the other man's jaw and sending him sprawling to the ground, rendering him unconscious.

"Try to trick me again, and I'll fuck you to oblivion, asshole"