1 Prologue
The kingdom of Ramonia has fallen. The fight for the dawn was lost. The king has fled on the ships and taken as many as possible with him, but way too many were left here to run, hide, fight or die.
Sir Arnoldus Giffard, the commander of The Last watch was enjoying honeyed pigs belly with his men when the old archer stormed in.
"They have breached the city wall," he said while catching his breath. Suddenly the kitchen fell silent and still. Arnoldus had known the old man since joining the king's army twelve years ago and fought battles and beasts with him, but has never seen him so terrified. "it's a massacre out there." he said and then "we have to end this!"
"And soon, we will." Arnoldus cleaned his mouth with a cloth and raised to his feet, then nodded to his men. Only ten altogether. All the young ones deserted and the commander didn't stop them. This was a suicide mission, an honorable one, but with no chances of survival. A mission for the old. "time to take our positions, but remember our mission. We do not act until they breach the castle."
It was visible the old archer wanted to say something but he knew better. Another benefit of having old subordinates was that they were loyal and knew the importance of discipline.
Sir Arnoldus marched up the stairs on the top of the castle wall. He was facing the southwest, the direction where the dead were coming from. The shouts from the townfolk outside the gates were deafening. Foolish people staying in the city because they had no bravery to run, hoping to be safe behind the city walls. And now that they have been breached looking for the next wall to hide behind. Soon there will be no escape. The Mount Bogda was a capital city of Ramonia, it covered the whole mountain like a blanket with King's castle on the top. Moving up the mount for safety was as foolish as backing in the corner in a fight. There was something else in the sounds. Something more animal, something more painful.
For a moment he adored the view from the top. It was almost a sunrise, you could see the color of blood in the sky, something seemed so profound at this moment. He grabbed the telescope and looked farther downtown. When he caught what he was looking for, he wished he hadn't. They were running. The townsfolk men and women and after them grey-skinned, some bloody, some rotten, their movements unhuman, fast and deadly, but some inaccurate. The bloodbath was not for Arnoldus to watch. He put the telescope down and went to get his sword.
He checked and his men have lightened the fires in the towers that they were meant to be in. The plan was easy. They had a factory in the city that produced the juice of the dragon. The liquid that kept all the lamps and fires burning, even on water. Highly dangerous. The king had ordered for wagons full with it be placed all over the city. The Last watch mission was to shoot fire arrows and light it all up when the city will be at its fullest with the dead. Burn it all down even the castle and take as much the dead with it as possible. Help the battles to come. Noble cause.
A few moons ago the dead stopped dying and returned as beasts filled with rage and strength they didn't have before. The first to fall was Stanhart of Everhil, the fortress that was believed to be impeachable. After their numbers and cities fallen increased. Slowly marching up the kingdom towards the Royal hill where the capital city lay. The king Magdarius Gardein gathered the army from all over the kingdom to make stand against the dead, called it the fight for the dawn. From how Arnoldus heard from few survivors who managed to retreat, the battle was great, he knew it would be since he saw the weapons that King had ordered, the new battle techniques that were being trained. But apparently it was not enough. He also heard about the mystic powerful warriors on side of the dead. He might see them soon. The thought was even too scary for him.
Then the shouts turned into screams and Sir Arnoldus knew that the was close. He turned to get the torch and froze. In front of him stood a hooded figure. Its hood flowing in the wind, yet revealing nothing under it. The darkness seemed to surround it, the wind changed direction and the stench hit the commander's nose.
It was the stench of the dead.
His wits came back to him, he swung the sword at it. It dodged moving so swiftly like floating. "You stay away!" Arnoldus said in a scared tone, now embarrassed by himself. He thought of charging, but then an idea to use fire came to him. But before he could even look for the torch, the figure charged for him and grabbed by the neck with a cold, bony and slimy hand. Arnoldus was paralyzed, either it was fear or the figure that did it to him, he could not tell. He realized he had lost his sword only when heard it bang against the ground. The figure reached its head closer to him and he could see what was behind the hood. It reached closer, with a mouth that had no lips and kissed him, sucking his breath out of him and then everything went black.
