A few hundred kilometers away, underneath the shade of a tall yet humble oak tree, a lone paladin awoke after more than a day of induced slumber. She opened her green eyes and found herself staring at leaf and branch.
Slowly, she began to think. As she thought, her mind pulsed and a sharp headache greeted her.
The paladin tried to awkwardly push herself to stand, trying her best to withstand the painful migraine she was experiencing.
The last thing the paladin could remember before waking was when she and her friend were flying towards the last known location of the undead army led by a Lich that had managed to slip through the fortresses of Alavum and Sarevum, thereby threatening the north of Esaori.
Her friend had cast the blessing of flight onto her longsword while linking both their shields. She could still remember the feel of the rough wind against her ears as they flew across the sky towards their target. The lich.
