The morning broke pale and clear. The sun rose above the eastern ridges, spilling soft light over the winding road that cut through the foothills of the plains down below. Dew still clung to the tall grass, and the cold scent of stone hung heavy in the air.
The army of the Blue Countess marched in proud silence ... banners high, armor gleaming in the new light. The terrain had changed: gone were the soft plains, replaced by jagged earth that rose sharply to their left. To their right, the land dipped into mist and uneven terrain.
The path was narrow and treacherous, hemmed by the mountainside. Wagon wheels groaned as they rolled over loose rock. The mages, walking among the ranks, whispered small spells to keep the air clear of dust.
At the front of the column rode Countess Aliyah Winters, her horse sure-footed even on the uneven trail. To her left was Sir Rhaegar Vance, her most trusted warrior, a seasoned knight with sharp blue eyes and the habit of watching the edges of things.
