Taking The Beach

Concordia, Seven Hundred Years Before

The fire struggled to combat the chill from the open window, the sill bearing the tidemark of the blood that Denus had been casting out onto the rocks below as the bowl filled. The bedroom was in chaos, the bedsheets and bedside tables holding dark drips coagulating slowly, and the bed crowded with blood slaves sleeping off the effects of Thaelen’s thirst, but he was finally feeling more of himself.

“How is it going with the battle?” He asked as Denus returned the bowl and dagger to the table and came to assist him to strap on armor borrowed from the supplies kept in the watch tower.

Denus had been providing periodic updates from the windows for Thaelen, which had enabled him to instruct Farra and send messengers along the mountain range of towers and to Concordia in an effort to hastily source supplies for the soldiers fighting on the grass plains below.

“They have taken the beach and the Alden ships, but are giving ground as night falls,” Denus