Into the Untamed Lands

The flames danced like madness in the wanderer’s eyes. He’d faced the monster posing as Soldier in combat, and he had won. But at what cost? Forty-seven villagers of Alhs dead. So many that they could not bury them all and so they had looked to the old ways.

They had looked to the flames. Forty-seven. They had been people yesterday. Today, they were nothing but memory. Nothing but ash drifting away on the wind, disappearing into the night. Mourners surrounded the pyre. In the shifting glow of the blaze their faces looked alien, strange. As they looked at him, each in their time, he felt their judgment, their hatred.

And they were right to judge, to hate, for their pain, their travails had only just begun. Bereft of the barrier that had protected them from the Untamed Lands, the villagers of Alhs would be forced to venture into the wilderness, to brave the many dangers awaiting them there. But not all dangers lay ahead. The creature who had taken Soldier’s place was dead, but there were others of its kind, and they knew where the wanderer was now.

They knew... And they were coming. With the ashes of the dead still settling upon the ground, the wanderer does the only thing he can do. He leads the villagers further into the wilderness, to a place where monsters roam and magical creatures out of nightmare lurk in the shadows. He leads them into the Untamed Lands.