The Warden’s tent was warm. That’s the first thing Alaric thought as he walked in. Despite the camp being temporary, the tent was outfitted with a full set of furniture.

  “Sit down.” The Warden demanded. Alaric sat himself on a nearby couch, ecstatic to be comfortable for the first time he could remember. “I looked into you…nothing aside from your status as nameless.” The Warden made her way to behind her desk where she produced a bottle of wine. She poured a glass of wine using a present glass and continued to speak. “Why is it that there’s nothing documented about your past? You were also added to the prisoner registry quite last minute.” The Warden raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. “I won’t ask who you are. Frankly, it’s not important..” The Warden set down the glass on her desk and leaned in close to Alaric. “You can be a good soldier, or you will die a dog’s death.” The Warden stood up, shooting a glare at Alaric as she did so. “You would do well to keep your head down. I’m not the only one in command who finds you suspicious.”

  “Yes, Warden,” Alaric replied. In response, The Warden gave an innocent smile.

  “You learn well.” She said in haste before exiting the tent. Before Alaric had time to wonder what next to do, another man Alaric recognized as Hubert marched in.

  “We’re taking a detail back to Headquarters. Warden’s ordered you along.” Alaric stood himself up, lamenting not being able to spend more time on the couch.

  “When do we leave? And where am I to sleep?” Alaric stretched, anxious to experience a proper bed. In response Hubert sighed, there was a note of disappointment as he remarked,

  “The Warden thinks it wise we leave immediately.” Alaric’s shoulders sunk, every ounce of anticipation immediately leaving his body.

  “Do I get my own horse?” Alaric asked. Hubert chuckled in response but said nothing more as they left the tent. Already, several horses were being packed with spare rations and other supplies. Hubert approached one of the horses and took off his own helmet, hanging it against the saddle. Alaric stared curiously, as he had not yet seen Hubert without his helmet. He looked somewhat similar to Alaric. Both had longer, unkempt hair, but Hubert was clean-shaven. Hubert was also a much larger man than Alaric, sporting the musculature of a man who’s fought in many battles.

  Alaric mounted Hubert’s horse, facing oppositely from Hubert. Already uncomfortable as is, Alaric groaned as two soldiers bound Alaric’s hands and then tied Alaric to the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off. Hubert glanced at Alaric, and sensing Alaric’s disdain tried to give him ease.

  “You’re quite lucky, you know. Most prisoners die before becoming nameless. And The Northern Front isn’t the hellscape it’s made out to be. Mostly.” From this, Alaric did not feel at ease one bit.

  “Either way, I’m better off than before.” Alaric joked. Curious, Hubert pried.

  “Oh, yeah? What’s worse than bein’ nameless?” Alaric thought on how to reply before responding.

  “I was stuck deep in an Imperial prison.” In response, Hubert’s brow furrowed.

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  “Imperial prisons are only for those who are most wanted...Like spies, political prisoners, and the like. Quit joking around, where were you really?” Not sure how to respond Alaric made up something dismissive.

  “I was the slave of a rich noble, then I rebelled and ended up here.” Alaric smiled, satisfied. What he said was not a complete lie. Hubert shrugged in response,

  “A real dumb shit you are, eh?” When Alaric didn’t respond Hubert gave a small laugh. Just then, a horseman clad in armor rode up in front of the group. Alaric noted his bald head, remembering him as the captain from earlier. The Captain cleared his throat and began to speak.

  “We ride through the night, as to arrive before dawn. Keep your torches unlit! If I see a single goddamned flame you’ll spend your time at Headquarters outside. I will make sure of it. Hyah.” The Captain snapped his horse's reigns and all the horsemen were off towards their destination.

  The night was cold, and already Alaric found himself reminiscing the moments spent warm. The sky began to lighten into a dull grey signaling morning. Headquarters must be close, Alaric thought as the band of horsemen continued through pine forests.

  “Hold for a moment!” The Captain yelled from somewhere up front. The horsemen all came to a halt, their steeds rearing in displeasure.

  “What’s up ahead?” Alaric asked, unable to see.

  Hubert shrugged. “Dunno. Could be trouble, The Captain almost never stops en route.” Eventually, the horsemen began moving again at a slow trot, making their way towards the captain. Alaric could smell an air of wariness among the horsemen, but nobody would say why. He wouldn’t have to wonder for long, however, as soon Alaric passed by what looked to be a man impaled against a tree. The man sat, slumped forward against the body of a spear, his helmet frosted over. The Captain dismounted from his horse and kneeled down to inspect the body.

  “This was recent. Hours ago at most.” He said to himself. The Captain then remounted before yelling orders to the rest of the horsemen. “Double pace for the rest of the journey! All of you mount up, now!” The horsemen took off towards headquarters with haste.

  “What’s going on?” Alaric inquired, craning his neck towards the front of the group.

  “They found the body of one of our scouts. Could be bad.” Hubert replied, worried. Alaric finally understood.

  “You’re saying someone might attack Headquarters?” Hubert laughed before replying.

  “Not just someone, It’s most likely Ludrunia.” Alaric had never heard of the nation so he asked further.

  “Ludrunia? What’s Ludrunia.” Hubert looked at Alaric, taken aback.

  “Who do you think we were fighting against in this century-long war?” Alaric looked down sheepishly. He didn’t dare expose the fact that he wasn’t aware of the century-long war Hubert was referring to.

  The mood was grim for the next few hours as the soldiers dreaded what they might find in Headquarters. Fortunately, as the Headquarters came into view, the entire band of horsemen sighed collectively in relief. The Captain rode ahead to speak with the gate guard and the rest of the horsemen slowed down as they approached. As the horsemen came to a stop, a soldier approached Alaric, removing his bindings and helping him off the horse.

  Alaric turned to look see the Headquarters, and to his awe, he beheld a massive fortress embedded in the side of a mountain, surrounded by thick walls that snaked along a ridged bluff, and jutting towers that loomed over the landscape. It was eerie, but at the same time, the warm glow of the fires emanating from the fortress made it seem inviting.

  Hubert turned to Alaric, grinning he said,

  “Welcome to Fallhearth. Last Bastion of the Northern Border.”