The Winds of Shock

Vador and his companions sat around a makeshift table, savoring a well-deserved break. The morning calm was soothing, almost comforting, despite the winter still exerting its cold grip on Freiden. The wind, though icy, was not threatening today. Everything seemed peaceful.

Around them, soldiers patrolled the battlements, attentively watching the surroundings. Even after a week without a single attack, not a single one had let down their guard. Vigilance had become second nature.

Vador and his companions joked, enjoying the cooking of their self-appointed chef, a jovial soldier who had taken on the role of feeding the men during these rare moments of respite. The smell of stew floated in the fresh air, bringing a welcome warmth. Vador, relaxed, allowed his thoughts to momentarily drift away from the worries of war.