Late in the winter of the four hundred and eleventh year of the prophet a messenger came to the country of Reingald. At the time I acted as an adviser to the king, so it was that I was in attendance when his lord, Artus Hammerhand, received the messenger in his palace.
I remember the day as clearly as if it were happening right in front of my eyes. I stood on the balcony of my chambers looking out over the land, snow lightly fell, tossed about by the occasional gust, and I spotted an unusual line of black winding down the southern road. I squinted to see better and I noticed a standard flying, of course it was too far to see the crest, but the jet black of the cloth could only belong to the Augur's Acolytes.
My stomach lurched. Nothing short of a catastrophe would drive the Augur's followers to brave Reingald's winter. Even the locals traveled only by necessity. An unexpected blizzard could bury a camp in minutes, an avalanche could carry away a caravan without a trace, yet the southmen had come and I knew it meant something terrible.
My fears would not even come close to the truth of the matter.
I bolted as fast as my legs could carry me to the king's Hand. He was an old, wise man by the name of Seiv Merrigold, and he received me without delay.
“Wies, come sit.” I sat.
“Seiv, not a moment ago I saw from my balcony what seems to be a caravan from the southlands. Their standard is black as night so I assume the must be the Augur's men.”
He squinted at me, perhaps trying to divine something further or perhaps judging whether I'd gone mad, but eventually he nodded and motioned me to leave. I notice a tremor in his hand, clearly he understood what the vistors' arrival meant. Even in summer, a visit from the Augur's delegates was an ill sign.
When the king received the messenger the great hall the entire court held its collective breath.
The messenger kneeled and looked to the king for permission to speak. That he knew his manners and acted so refined boded ill.
Seiv spoke for the king, “You stand in the Great Hall of Castle Ymerund, Seat of Artus Hammerhand, King of Reingald, state your name and your business.”
“My name is Quintulus Rolu'i et Magnar, I am a High Priest of the Augur's Accolade, my business here,” he paused, and looked apprehensively at the full court, “is to deliver a demand for Reingald to raise levies for war.”
The nobles, low and high, burst into chatter. I looked to Seiv and the other advisers, who looked at each other and at me. It didn't sit well with those of us who knew the of the world beyond the Augur's influence. There were enemies here and there, but levies would be neigh impossible to raise in the dead of winter, and an army would have little chance to make it to war at full strength now.
The king pounded his hammer once against the floor. The ring of steel on stone silenced his subjects. “Quintulus, what enemy faces us that we should raise an army and march at the height of the winter?”
The messenger looked uncomfortable. “I-If it please my lord, we could continue this audience in private.”
He nodded and looked to Seiv, “You, Weis, and Faena will join me in the study. Bring the messenger.”
The hair at the back of my neck stood straight up. A summons to war against an enemy that t be spoken of openly? Was is an doomed war or a more arcane foe, I couldn't decide. I pushed my way through the throng of nobles and made my way right to the king's study.
“A man was brought before the Augur,” Quin explained, “but wasn't a man anymore. His skin was sickly green, with yellow eyes, and smelling of death. The Augur communed with the Gods and learned that the main was of an evil plague from antiquity. It was wrought by the outsiders and unleashed by their servants to reform the world to their desire. The Gods granted the augur with a vision of an army of the afflicted. They are amassed at the Dragon's Gate, so the Augur sent a delegate to Iylika, but no news returned. We fear the worst and are calling for all four of the Augur's Kingdoms to raise levies lest we be taken unaware by the plague.”
Faena, the king's highest general spoke first, “How can we fight them?”
I nodded to myself. If they could be killed, then they could be defeated.
“They are no harder to kill than a man, but if their blood or bile enters a wound or is swallowed the victim will quickly turn and become one of the afflicted.”
I gasped for air and sat hard onto a couch. I knew immediately that the only way to survive was to run, but I held my tongue. Cowardice in front of Hammerhand would be just as lethal as the plague.
By the end of the day, the king had sent out riders to his holds with orders to raise the levies. It took five weeks for the levies to gather at Ymerund and by then the snow had thinned and the weather had warmed slightly. The king marched south with his army, Seiv, and Faena. I stayed behind, released from my service to the king to return to my family. I had no family so instead I searched through the king's library until I found the secret of the plague.
It would devour the world as once it had before, and then it would starve and die. I gathered as many men, women, and children as I could convince and set out into the mountains to found a settlement that could survive. And what did I name it?
The children shouted together, “Thaedys!” Weis smiled at the little ones, but his heart was somber. These children's grandchildren might be able to return to the world from the mountain village, but they would find a desolate waste and they would struggle for many generations to rebuild.
He stood up and walked out into the cold. Today was a clear day so Weis could see far across the valley below, all the way to the other side where Ymerund was nestled in the roots of the mountain, burning.