A quiet night in Fal Dara.

[Osis]

It is a quiet night at the Inn of Fal Dara. You stumble in, taking a seat at your normal bench next to your fellow patrolmen. The inn-keeper, Lenee, brings you your routine tankard of ale, and as you kick back in your chair, you sip your drink, glad to be done soldiering for the day. The men are playing dice as usual, and you watch. Joining in would be against regulation, as youÔÇÖre a captain. You sigh, and bury your face in your ale yet again. A few drinks, and a solid nights sleep, and then back out to the border forts.

The time passes quickly, and before you know it youÔÇÖre stumbling out of the Inn towards the barracks, singing drinking songs.

*DOOM*DOOM*

You look around, a look of confusion on all three of your patrolmenÔÇÖs faces, and covering yours too.

*DOOM*DOOM*

The sound of war drums at the gate! YouÔÇÖre in no shape for this, but you start running towards Malkier Gate, ready to repel an invasion of trollocs.

*DOOM*

The drums cut in mid thump. You stop running, your three patrolmen sliding to a drunken halt a pace back. The silence is thick, almost palpable. The night sky is unbelievably black tonight, with no moon to light it. An odd gurgling sound comes from behind and to your right, and is suddenly interrupted by a sharp gasp and the sound of metal clanging to the paving stones. You whip around, sword drawn, and are immediately hit in the face with a large round something. You can tell your nose is broken by the way you draw breath, the way the pain radiates in your head, but as you look up, any thought of broken noses leaves your body, along with yesterdayÔÇÖs lunch. Thoughts flow through your mind as you notice everything in the situation. Life slows down. Three trollocs stand behind you where your men had been, two smaller ones with daggers, and a massive wolfish trolloc with a huge hammer. Mich is on the ground, his neck sliced to the bone, and the trolloc on the right watches as Davian tries to crawl away, blood flowing from the hole in his back. You look at the trolloc with the hammer, where Jeris had been, and realize that the head of the corpse is missing. You look at your feet only to find his blue eyes staring up at you with unwavering dread.

The trolloc on the left strikes first, moving with lightning speed. The dagger strikes your arm tearing it from shoulder to elbow and causing you to drop your sword. You shake with pain as the second trollocÔÇÖs dagger pierces you under your armpit. The trolloc with the hammer winds up, and swings in a upward fashion, bringing the hammer upward into your gut and sternum. Ribs crack and break as he connects, and you gag as your organs are forced up your throat and out of your mouth.

You slide to the ground, the taste of your vitals raw in your mouth. You start to lose vision and feeling, everything fading out. Raucous laughter and howls of blood thirst follow you into the darkness.

The alarm bells of Fal Dara ring, once, twice, three times through the countryside. A great clash meets the listenerÔÇÖs ears instead of the fourth chime, marking the destruction of the bell tower. Darkness turns to light as Fal Dara burns, the sounds of buildings collapsing echoing through nearby lands. Finally, the light dies down, and silence consumes all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The gates of Fal Dara are broken off their hinges, hanging askew. Great buildings and ramparts are charred here and there, buildings razed to the ground. You step lightly over a massive bell. You wonder why you donÔÇÖt see any corpses, whether human or trolloc as you approach a fork in the lane.

Fork in the Lane
The road forks into three different branches here. Northward, the Malkier gate
can be clearly seen. To the south, the wall of the Fal Dara keep blocks all
passage. The second road moves both east and west, around the keep.
[ Exits: n e s w ]
A heap of red and white mass sits here, oozing.
Three standards hold rigid in the middle of the heap.

You look at the heap covering the street before you, and you somehow canÔÇÖt place what you see there to anything youÔÇÖve ever seen before.

You think hard, and itÔÇÖs as if your mind refuses to see whatÔÇÖs in front of you.

You double over, vomit projecting out of your mouth and nostrils as the mess in front of you is realized.

Fork in the Lane
The road forks into three different branches here. Northward, the Malkier gate
can be clearly seen. To the south, the wall of the Fal Dara keep blocks all
passage. The second road moves both east and west, around the keep.
[ Exits: n e s w ]
The bloody scalp of a high-rank Shienaran soldier. [8]
The bloody scalp of a white stallion. [3]
The bloody scalp of a veteran shienaran soldier. [43]
The bloody scalp of a hardened Shienaran soldier. [23]
The bloody scalp of a sturdy Shienaran soldier. [27]
The war standard of the GhobÔÇÖhlin shows the crimson crescent moon on a black banner.
The symbol of the KnoÔÇÖmon stands high on an iron pike.
A black rod is driven into the ground here, displaying the sigol of BaÔÇÖalzamon

You recover slowly, looking over the pile once again. Tears stream down your scarred face, tears for the life of those men that were ripped apart alive. Beyond the piles of arms, legs, and heads, you can make out three bloody trolloc tracks headed north out of the gate. You wonder how wounded trollocs that lost that much blood could walk out of the city. And then you realize, that the blood was not their own.

A sign stands in the ground, just north of the gates. It reads:

Shar farÔÇÖal shaidar niende inde mas

It translates: Blood of the Dark, Lost no more.

There, below the script, are listed three names,
Osis
Lithium
Sartak