Life at the Citadel was harsh, but familiar. Hospital corners and early morning PT were just the things a man like Alric needed to clear his mind. He’d never done garrison duty, but it wasn’t too much of a change. Though he was a Dedicated, he chose to live and train alongside the tower soldiers. Admittedly, he’d put some of his own personal study on hold when he signed up to be stationed up here, but he needed it. With the constant threat of trolloc raids, he didn’t have time to think about Affie or Andra or anything else. Just scouting and patrols. When he wasn’t in the field, he worked with a small team devoted to tracking and predicting trolloc movements. The veterans up here knew so much about trollic psychology. Having spent most of his life believing trollocs were little more than peddler’s tales, he found them both fascinating and terrifying to learn about.
“Peace, this isn’t good,” said the slight man pouring over maps with Alirc. Kassin was a few years younger than Alric, but he’d been part of his first expedition into the Blight while Alric had been studying the rigid little “cells” that made up leaves under Javier.
“What’s not?” Alric asked peering over his shoulder.
“These raids, they’re following a pattern. I think a large force is out there somewhere. They’re looking for supplies before heading south.”
“Are you sure they’re headed south?”
“I’m not, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
“Reasonable, get your theory to Miahala Sedai, I’ll see if there’s anything else I can scrape together for a briefing. Numbers estimates maybe.” Alric could feel the growing excitement. Miahala was a Green. Even if they were headed back north, he doubted the woman would let a large force of trollocs run free in her precious borderlands.
As Kassin sprinted for the door, Alric turned his attention back to the maps. Where are you, you horn headed freaks? Trolloc’s don’t like to cross deep water…. But a campsite should be near a water source. Hmm… Ooh, there’s a shallow stream over here. That’s not to far from the last raid. Now, how many of you can fit around here?
“Peace, this isn’t good,” said the slight man pouring over maps with Alirc. Kassin was a few years younger than Alric, but he’d been part of his first expedition into the Blight while Alric had been studying the rigid little “cells” that made up leaves under Javier.
“What’s not?” Alric asked peering over his shoulder.
“These raids, they’re following a pattern. I think a large force is out there somewhere. They’re looking for supplies before heading south.”
“Are you sure they’re headed south?”
“I’m not, but I’d rather err on the side of caution.”
“Reasonable, get your theory to Miahala Sedai, I’ll see if there’s anything else I can scrape together for a briefing. Numbers estimates maybe.” Alric could feel the growing excitement. Miahala was a Green. Even if they were headed back north, he doubted the woman would let a large force of trollocs run free in her precious borderlands.
As Kassin sprinted for the door, Alric turned his attention back to the maps. Where are you, you horn headed freaks? Trolloc’s don’t like to cross deep water…. But a campsite should be near a water source. Hmm… Ooh, there’s a shallow stream over here. That’s not to far from the last raid. Now, how many of you can fit around here?




