The Sand Dune
It's been five months since we rescued Ty. In that time, the Foolhardies had been assigned as an independent unit for an auxiliary military force commanded by Great General Grimthorn who was spending his days supporting Great General Garm in his conflict against the Sunspire Dominion.
It wasn't a full-blown war yet, but the dozens of daily skirmishes for control over the eastern oases of the Westersand Desert which borders both clan's territories was becoming a bloody and costly mess.
"Dean, get down!" Luca yelled at me.
I ducked just in time as a shadowblade slashed through the space where my head was only a moment ago.
Glancing up, I saw the wispy black vapor trailing the shadowblade's path mere inches from my face. The sight of it sent a familiar cold shiver running up my spine, reminding me that death had just brushed my cheek yet again.
"Dean, keep moving!" Luca yelled.