Chapter 1

It was the 25th day of the month of Sunwell that the shouts were heard through the classroom’s open window. It seemed as though everyone in the city of Newbore was suddenly on the streets shouting. And it took a moment for the Tannis to be able to discern the cause of the commotion: Felinland had attacked!

The Felin forces had crossed the border into Onigsberg County and were advancing on the town of Redckingra, seemingly intent on taking possession of a valuable trading port on the River Launley, thus gaining trade access to the Carver Gulf.

A bustle of preparation burst into action across the city. Fighting age men were drafted. The army readied their equipment. And the Academy would heed the call. Tannis’ heart rose when he heard that Year 3 and above would march. A chance to earn glory. A chance to test his burgeoning magical prowess.

But Tannis’ hopes were quickly dashed when he learnt that Year 3 would march East to Southam with a regiment of the city guard, to hold the border in case the Felin attacked on a second front.

And so Tannis trudged dejectedly along with his downcast peers towards Southam, expecting no action or glory. A heavy mist hung in the humid air as the cohort made camp in the marshy land to the south of Southam. Nobody would attack across the Hildreth marshes, thought Tannis, it was near 50 miles of marshy wilderness between Southam and the nearest Felin settlement.

But Tannis thought wrong.

Tannis awakes in darkness. His head is throbbing. Around him is a chorus of moans.

Tannis will take a moment to listen and smell, cautiously trying to get a feel for just what's happening around him. Assuming there are no signs of immediate danger (and assuming he isn't restrained) he will begin feeling around, and he will try to locate his staff (or... a staff? a wand?) to use it to cast light, both as a spellcasting foci but also as the target of the spell. Once his staff glows with bright white light, he will take in his surroundings and get his bearings.

As Tannis takes a moment to listen, one of the nearer sounding groans, descends into a wet gurgle and then... nothing. The smell of blood, piss and shit is thick in the air, coupled with hint of cauterised meat.

Groping for his staff, Tannis feels the familiar and reassuring coolness of the ebony shaft, and props himself into more of an upright position. As he does so, a sharp pain bursts from his left shoulder. He feels dizzy and queasy. Waiting for those feelings to subside, he musters what little strength he has remaining, and imbues his staff with light.

It glows weakly, and yet the spell draws heavily on Tannis' remaining strength. By the dim light, Tannis sees blood covering his torso and an arrow stuck into his left shoulder. Around him, the ground at first looks lumpy. Until he realises the lumps are bodies, or pieces of them. Beheaded bodies. Bodies stuck with arrows like a porcupine. Bodies with limbs at bizarre angles. Bodies with gaping wounds. And blood. Pools of blood. Partially congealed, but still shiny in the staff's light.

As Tannis casts the dim light around him, looking for survivors he sees several members of his class. Udret Oakenmail, the only dwarf in the class, a visiting student from the Wigleteria dwarves, lies on his back a few metres away. He lies unmoving, and as Tannis looks more closely he sees the unnatural angle of Udret's head and the bloody gash across the dwarf's neck. Next to Udret is Florithe, or at least Florithe's head, cleanly severed from her body. In places her beautiful golden hair is still untarnished by blood, reminding Tannis of his classroom daydreams.

Casting the light in the other direction, Tannis sees Zanros the half-elf - the class trickster - always laughing and pranking with illusion magic. But there is no smile on his face now as he lies on his back in a pool of blood. As the light catches Zanros's eye he stirs weakly and tries to sit up. He coughs and partially congealed blood sputters from his mouth. He begins to try to shuffle towards Tannis, remaining on his back. As he does so, Tannis notices that Zanros is dragging his spilt guts behind him, with more slipping from the gaping wound across his midrift.

Zanros drags himself forward another inch or two and rests his head on Tannis's thigh. He closes his eyes. "Remember me..." he whispers.

Tannis finds Zanros's foci clutched tightly in his right hand - a grimy joker from a pack of cards - now covered in blood. Zanros's spellbook is in his satchel, undamaged by the ruckus.

As Tannis rummages fhrough Zanros's satchel he hears movement from beyond the circle of light.

Tannis picks his way across the battlefield towards the sound of movement, his progress impeded by bodies and weapons, his feet slipping on blood.

As the light pushes back the gloom he sees four crouched humanoid figures. They turn with Tannis's approach and Tannis sees four glowing red pairs of eyes set in sunken grey skin. The figures appear to be holding torn human limbs and their mouths are dripping with blood.

Tannis turns tail and dashes away from the four humanoids, making his way as fast as possible across the corpse-littered ground. Pausing briefly after his first burst of effort he can hear no noises of a chase, nor see any movement.

Having taking a moment to breathe, Tannis realises that the creatures he saw were ghouls, lured to this place by the stench of death.

Continuing to look for his classmates, sees bodies piled on bodies. Bodies of the Newbore City Guard. Bodies of Felin soliders, most with diagonally striped red and gold tunics. Some with a raven crest on their chest. None with signs of life.

Amongst the bodies, Tannis sees more of his classmates. Panaziver the forest gnome, his left arm severed, curled in a pool of blood. Anastas, recognisable from her right side, but a mess of charred flesh on her left. Fira the halfing, impaled upon a pike that had been driven into the ground. And then his teacher, Gavarenth, cut in two from left shoulder to right hip, the flesh cauterised by the blow. That left Gavin. Gavin de Mowbray.

Tannis searches the blood soaked bodies for magical foci and spellbooks.

Panaziver's focus, an immaculate telescope lens, is roughly three inches in diameter. It is a flawlessly shaped piece of glass. And where the glass is not obscured by a coating of blood, it refracts the light from Tannis's staff into a rainbow of colors. Tannis had long suspected that Panaziver's focus might hold more magical properties than just being a focus for Panaziver's own power - holding the weighty piece of glass in hand his suspicion is only deepened. Panaziver's spellbook, and the satchel in which the gnome was accustomed to carry it, is nowhere to be seen.

By contrast, Anastas spellbook was easy to find, it's spine clutched her burnt left hand, the pages reduced to ashes. Tannis finds her focus, a pure white feather, on the ground near her left hand. Despite the blood and mud, it appears entirely unblemished.

Fira's ornate hand-mirror focus lies in a thousand shards at the foot of the pike on which the halfling is impaled. Tannis finds no trace of her spellbook.

Finally, coming to Gavarenth's bisected corpse, Tannis's heart leaps to see not only her focus, but her spellbook, whole and untarnished. The spellbook is a hefty tome with a gold-plated metal cover, styled as scales to reflect Gavarenth's lizardfolk heritage. Her focus is a vaguely humanoid shaped wooden game piece, set with a sizeable ruby. Remembering back to their first class, Tannis thinks to look in Gavarenth's satchel and finds the game board and other pieces which make the set.

As Tannis finishes his searching he again hears movement from outside the circle of light.