Ashes Of War [v1.0] Apr 2026

Instantly, the oil sizzled. A faint, ethereal glow emanated from the rust, casting a sickly blue light across Silas’s gaunt face. This was the residual echo of the magic that had ended the war. The world was dead, but the weapons still hungered.

Silas looked back at the small, shivering cluster of campfires tucked into the ruins of a collapsed watchtower. A handful of hollow-eyed refugees and three wounded soldiers were all that remained of a proud garrison. Ashes of War [v1.0]

"We move at moonrise," Silas said, standing up and letting the shield fall back into the mud with a dull thud. "Gather the others. Tell them to wrap their boots in wool. The silent-striders are hunting the perimeter again." Instantly, the oil sizzled

"They aren't coming back for it, Silas," a voice rasped through the fog. The world was dead, but the weapons still hungered

Bram grunted, leaning heavily on a walking axe that had long since lost its edge. "Scraps won't buy us bread in the Lowlands. Assuming the Lowlands haven't burned just as bright as the Ridge."

The grey snow fell not from the clouds, but from the smoldering bones of the world.

Silas did not look up. He knew the heavy, labored breathing of Bram, his squad’s last surviving shield-bearer. "I know," Silas murmured. "I’m just checking for salvage. Every scrap of iron counts if we are going to make it through the Pass."