Inside the Fire (Prologue)

Inside the Fire

	The silence of the command tent was broken by the sound of what had previously been meticulously placed statuettes scattering across the floor. The dozen officers present were silent as the last piece finally rolled to stop, and no one moved to retrieve them. All kept their eyes on the imposing man leaning heavily against the large table that dominated the room, his face and body still failing to betray the emotion that sparked the outburst.

	“Would someone explain to me how the demons managed to not only capture two of our largest bridges, but did so without any of our patrols seeing them coming?” he asked softly.

	Through his words, his eyes never left the huge map resting on the table. It was as much a work of art as it was a tool of war; and worth a small fortune. Some of the finest map makers on the continent had labored to create what might be the most detailed and geographically accurate representation in the world.

	It was the south bridge’s garrison officer that spoke first. “I- I… can offer no excuse, General” he stammered. “It could only have been the work of powerful sorceries.”

	The officer blanched and trailed off as his superior finally turned his gaze from the map to meet his eyes. With a well defined face and toned build, the general could have been described as handsome in the simple, yet well-crafted armor he wore. Beside him, a sword rested in its worn sheath against the table. The quivering man was oblivious to this as he stared into the larger man’s eyes. It wasn’t a look of anger, hate, or even disappointment that made the officer shake in fear. No, there was only coldness in the general’s eyes, although if one were to look carefully they would see the glint of barely restrained rage.

	The man’s relief was obvious when the general eventually shifted his gaze to the second captain in the room.

	He studied the captain before him. Captain Carver, if he recalled. He was a squat, unassuming man. While his body had the muscle of a soldier used to the fields of war, he'd never be described as handsome. Though his gear showed clear signs of use, it was obvious that the man spent a great deal of time caring for it.

	“And what do you have to report?” he growled.

	All eyes turned to the second man, but rather than quake in fear as the previous captain had, he looked back with a level gaze.

	“They came quickly and without warning in the night, sir. They had three dragons light the walls and keep as their forces advanced. We lost the ballistae before they could fire a shot, and they were breaching the walls before we could mount any kind of defense in the chaos. I ordered my most trusted men to salvage any artifacts, light the records, and then retreat with the main force before the garrison was lost. It was only by a miracle of Illias that we lost no men.”

	The General’s face showed no expression as he listened to what could only be described as a near complete disaster. It remained unchanged as the officer stopped speaking and awaited his judgment.

	Not even a battle, he thought, and we’ve already lost two of our most important garrisons.

	Before he could speak his thoughts to the officers in the room, he noticed the second captain continuing to look up at him.

	“Do you have something to add, Captain?” he asked. He watched as the man stepped forward with a salute, the captain’s face continuing to remain calm.

	“Sir, the men retreated under my direction. All fault lies with me and I would not see them punished for following my orders. That is all, Sir” he finished before stepping back.

	The general looked down upon the smaller man with a grudging amount of respect. There weren’t many men in the world who were willing to speak to him in such a way. The captain had no reason to fear for his men, however. The general was above lashing out at his subordinates, although he had heard rumors of what the Church did to those who retreated, or worse, surrendered. He also had to admit that the initiative he showed before retreating was admirable as well. The artifacts and sensitive information within the keep could have easily been turned against them had they fallen into the demons' grasp.

	The general turned back to his map in thought. Captain Carver was right, if the demons had managed to fly dragons against the garrison, there would have been little hope of holding it. Withdrawal had been the only option.

	I wish I had more captains such as him, he mused. It would be a shame to lose him.

	The thought did little to ease his foul mood.  These were dark tidings. Dragons were exceptionally rare, thought to be nearly extinct by some. The legends told that they had once fought on both sides of humanity’s eternal war, although they hadn’t been seen in combat on either side in almost a century. Now it seemed they only flew with the enemy. His decision made, he turned back to his waiting men.

	“I will consider what you have told me. Captains, you are dismissed.”

	The two officers saluted before pushing through the heavy flaps of the tent’s entrance. The general waited quietly as they left, making a mental note to promote Captain Carver to a position where his courage and leadership wouldn’t be squandered in some defunct keep. With them gone, he turned to address his remaining officers.

	“The attack on the bridges can only mean one thing. The demons have once again left their realm and plan to spread death and corruption across the land.”

	He reached down for two of the black pieces on the floor, these ones shaped like towers, and placed one on the map at each of the fallen garrisons.

	“Worse still, with dragons they will be able to advance unchallenged until they reach our first cities. Only there do we have enough stone to resist their fire, and ballista powerful enough to bring them down.”

	Considering his next words, he picked up three more pieces, two blacks and a single white. Placing two, he brought the last up to his eyes to study. Carved from black marble was the form of a great dragon, maw open wide, with wings spread and talons outstretched. It glared back at him; every curve, scale, and claw sculpted in incredible detail.

	He silently placed the carving before turning to his men. Its hateful visage was now turned towards the marked city before it, a white castle, with the dragon’s talons reaching out as if to tear it from the world. Even more ominous was the light from a nearby torch reflecting off the carving to dance across the map. To the North was the last black piece, also a castle.

	“Prepare your men” he spoke softly. “We knew this day would come when they took Lecastie. The Church will be too busy with their own problems to protect us.”

	There was only silence as the men around the table thought solemnly thought to themselves. All faces wore troubled looks and several still stared in horror at the black harbinger of death. Only now with night coming on the camp, the dying light drew the eye to the dancing shadows. All men watched as the map before them seemingly burned in the flickering torchlight.

	“Illias help us all.”