She awoke lying on the wooden floor of a cart as it bounced and creaked over a muddy road. Above her stood trees like dark sentinels against a gray, cloud covered sky. She tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes and discovered she couldn’t. Wait, am I chained? Looking down, she discovered manacles braced to her wrists and chained to the floor. What is this?

“Hey, you, you’re finally awake,” saida blonde, well built man sitting across from her. “You were trying to cross the border, right?”

She shook her head. She had been expecting to start out in Samner Downs, the open fields and rolling hills that matched where she had finished character creation. Instead, shewas sitting in a wagon filled with other prisoners chained to the floor of the cart.

All she could do was shake her head in confusion as the blonde man continued, “Walked right into that Imperial ambush. Same as us and that thief over there.”

A dark and bloody man was seated next to her and he glowered at the blonde man’s comment. “Damn you rebels, everything was fine until you came along,” he grumbled. “Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn’t been looking for you rebels, I could’ve stolen that horse and been half way to Yandmouth by now.”

The soldier driving the cart turned and shouted, “Shut up back there! Don’t make me call a halt just to have the lot of you flogged for wagging your tongues.”

They all fell silent as the wheels creaked beneath them. The road took a wide curve and Calista looked back to see that they were actually part of a larger convoy. Another cart and two covered wagons followed, all with soldiers sitting at the reigns. Four more mounted soldiersrode between the carts and wagons. All told, there appeared to be about a dozen armed men on the road.

Looking out at the forest, she could see the mists hanging heavy in the woods. Between the fog, the underbrush, and the gloom of the forest, little could be seen past the first line of trees. It was a fact that made her feel more than a little unsettled.

She leaned back in her seat and watched the forest roll by. When the Attendant said I was a V.I.P, I had hoped to start out in some little village with a bunch of quest givers. Something a little more straightforward and user friendly. But apparently that’s not what Concept considers entertainment. She wondered just how many people were watching her right now before she looked around the other prisoners in the cart. No one here appeared have any quests for her. She was a prisoner, nothing more. I’ve been in tighter spots than this. I suppose I’ll just have to break myself out.

An hour passed as the forest rolled by. A few murmured conversations floated back and forth through the cart, but no one directed any more questions at her. They were following a road that cut across the foothills. As they crested a rise, the trees broke as they passed through the burned ruins of a village. Charred stones stood silent among the piles of ash and burned wood. On the outskirts of the woods, she spotted a group of shallow graves.

“This is Harva,” the blonde man spoke quietly. “I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Elrys. I wonder if she still likes honey with her wine.”

As the town and its burned buildings disappeared behind them, she remembered what the Attendant had said about there were benefits to starting out as a V.I.P, and wondered if any of her old gear was here on the convoy and, if so, just where it might be hidden.

She opened her H.U.D and accessed her inventory where only a [Ragged tunic] and [Silver Ring] was listed. No gear. The Attendant mentioned the ring. I wonder if it does anything. She selected the ring to inspect it and found it had no stats. Well that’s disappointing. Maybe the Attendant made a mistake? She flipped to her character stats and breathed a sigh of relief when they showed up all the same. Well, at least none of those have been drained. She then flipped to the map. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the world map was covered in darkness but for a single, tiny road where the town of [Harva] was drifting away behind her location arrow. Switching to the mini map, she found it mostly the same but for the [Unknown wood] that surrounded the road. I really have no idea where we are. Are we actually near Yandmouth? Or was that guy just using a euphemism?

She finally turned off her H.U.D and then looked to the blonde man across from her. “Hey, what’s your name?”

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He gave his head a bow, “Rorick, if you please.”

She leaned forward and whispered, “Rorick, I’m sorry if this sounds like a stupid question, but I got hit pretty hard back there so I’m a little out of it right now. Why are we all in the back of this cart?”

“You mean you don’t remember the ambush? Or are you trying to figure out where we’re going, just like the rest of us?”

She shook her head, “Both, I guess.”

Rorick kept his voice low, “You’re sitting in Sommerdale, lass. This is the border between Coros and Helle. Big mess out here as neither province really cares about the people of Sommerdale, so we’ve risen up in righteous rebellion against the Empire. It’s my guess they’re taking us to a prison where we’ll work at the bottom of some mine until we drop dead, or worse, an execution.”

A notification populated and she opened it. It was a dialogue box: “You are currently a prisoner of the Empire. Coros and Helle – two provinces of the Empire - have been in an uneasy peace since their last conflict. Rebels, bandits, and goblin raiders have been causing untold amounts of trouble along the border between the two nations and you, fairly or unfairly, have been caught up in the Empire’s attempt to clean out the antagonists. Escape your bonds, recover your gear, and find your way to safety.”

Well that answers a few questions. Now all I have to do is find my gear. She flipped to her map. Names had populated. The wood was named [South Wood] and the road was named [The Queen’s Road]. She zoomed out. They were traveling north through the province of Helle. If I remember right, Helle is governed by Lord Sott, who is one of the more brutal lords of the Empire. She looked back to Rorick. “So how far are we from the border?”

“You really must have been hit on the head,” Rorick shook his head. “About a dozen miles, by my guess. You’ll never reach it without a horse or a lot of woodcraft. This place is crawling with Imperial patrols.”

Calista thought on this as the cart bounced down the road. The sun was struggling to fight through the mist, but she could see it was still about mid-morning, nearly the same time as she had left the Attendant. The other prisoners all sat quietly, each man to his own thoughts as the horses plodded their way down the mud drenched road.

The mist thickened as they rounded a bend in the road. A wall appeared to their right, rolling through the mist like some spectral thing until it grew into a tower, broken and ruined with loose rocks and mortar strewn around its base. Then another wall appeared on their left and another tower, this one whole with shadows armed with spear and shield that looked down on them. Guards, Calista realized. We’re entering the fortress. Soon they met a gate and the much taller – and mostly intact – walls of the fortress.

“Alright, lets get this over with,” said one of the prisoners.

“Yannar, Morgeth, Shimayu, divines, please protect us!” cried the thief.

“Look at it. Rumadrane, Lord Sott’s fortress. And it looks like the tribe of Hammah have allied with him,” Rorick grumbled. “Damned Drakmar, I would bet anything they have something to do with this.”

Who are the Drakmar? Calista wondered, but thought better of asking. She knew now that any questions would only highlight her ignorance. She needed to think. To focus. How was she going to get out of this mess?

“Funny,” Rorick said under his breath, “it used to be when I was little, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe.”

They passed a crowd of goblins carrying pick axes and shovels. The ugly little green men pointed and laughed as the wagon passed.

“Why … why are we here?” asked the thief?

“Why do you think?” countered Rorick. “End of the line.”

Then the driver called the horses to a halt. A number of the guards emerged from the mist and the nearest of them opened the back of the wagon.

Rorick grunted, “Let’s go. Best not to keep the gods waiting.”

One of the guards shouted for them to get down, to which the thief cried, “No! Wait! I’m not a rebel!”

The guard, however, only smirked as Rorick whispered, “Face your death with some courage thief.”

However, the thief was desperate, “You have to tell them. We weren’t with you! There’s been some sort of mistake!”

A door swung open and clattered shut as a man carrying a book and a quill pen walked across the yard to face the prisoners.

A guard with a captain’s insignia then appeared next to the man with the book. “All of you rebels. Stirring up trouble for the Empire. There are some who call your leader a hero, but heroes do not murder innocents in an attempt to destroy a decades old truce!” He then turned to the man with the book, told him to carry on, and walked away.

One by one, the Caller cried out names and had them step forward where a guard then escorted them to a chopping block. Soon, a half dozen men were all kneeling before the wooden stumps. With an order, a guard ordered the prisoners to kneel and lean their heads over the blocks, each stained brown or black from the blood of previous executions. A headsman, complete with black cowl and axe, then made his way down the row and relieved each men of their lives. Soon, six heads were rolling in mud while the guardsmen dragged away their bodies.

“Calista Stricthaven!” shouted the caller.

She panicked. What do I do? Am I dead already? Where was my chance to escape? I thought I would at least get some kind of opening …

Rorick, standing beside her, then whispered, “Looks like its time for your journey to the Great Elsewhere. Face it with pride.”

A guard shoved her in the back and she stumbled toward the nearest block. This is it. It’s now or never. She looked up at the ramparts where guardsmen looked down on the yard. How many of them have bows? Perhaps I can just make a run for it.

Then an inhuman shriek came from the sky and everyone looked up.

“What was that?” asked a guard.

Everyone was silent as they looked up at the sky. What’s happening? What was that? Questions and plans ran through Calista’s mind as she searched the sky. Then a long, dark shadow flew over the yard and sent a wake of wind through the mist.

One the guards cried, “Is that what I think it is?”

Another roar came from the sky as one of the prisoners took off, running for the gate. He had not gone twenty feet when four arrows appeared in his back and he fell.

The captain then re-appeared from one of the outbuildings. “Everyone, stay where you are!” He commanded. “Something is approaching from the east.”

“Something is here,” Rorick whispered. “And it comes from the sky.”

Then a blast of fire lit up the yard and the world descended into chaos and madness.