Version 2.0
With such a powerful threat on the horizon, the kings were willing to curb their wild tendencies and come to a uniform agreement.
"So then we are agreed. When one king calls for aid all shall answer. There is open trade between kings from food to weapons. Yes, we are agreed?" Brandon asks.
Cries of aye ring out and finally after much debate and headache for Brandon an agreement between kings was settled.
"I will also send messengers to the giants as well, we might not know them or trust them, but they can be a big help and gain much by joining us," Brandon said, earning some disgruntled looks from the kings.
"What about the children of the forest Brandon." Edwyn asks, The Slate King. "Manny of us came here today because they endorse you. Where are they, we will also need their help to defeat the Others if what you say of their magic is true."
"That is already been taken care of. Elder Oak has tasked Hawthorn to unite the other groves. They have been out for a long time so I can only assume that they are making progress. The grove here is already providing the best help they can and are also working on ways to help in the coming battles."
"Alright then," Edwyn says. "Then I shall return home and prepare for war."
Aye's chorus out as they start to plan out their next actions. Things like, stocking up on food, preparing people for battle and war, looking for obsidian, and crafting weapons as the children of the forest will not be able to provide for everyone one.
As the weighty discussions drew to a close, each king rose from the round table some happy with the discussions and some thinking more in-depth about it. Harmond, clapped Brandon on the shoulder, offering a hearty handshake.
"Good work, Brandon. You've got a good spirit and I can respect that," Harmond remarked with a friendly grin.
Edwyn, the Slate King, offered a respectful nod before departing.
Frost, gave Brandon a handshake as well. "Let us all hope that we can last this out till the end."
Ned, the Greenwood King, lingered for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "May we meet again Brandon."
Royce, The Red King, departed with a sly smile. "You're quite the interesting man, Brandon. Let's hope your plans prove to be, fruitful."
As they dispersed, each king faced the biting chill of the approaching night, as the dark clouds moved closer to the south. Some kings left with brisk steps, eager to return to their lands, while others departed with more contemplative strides.
The Kings marched away, and while they sorted their problems, the village took care of its own. With all the villages in the area now communicating and a common goal in mind, work was underway. Villages traded everything from food to firewood, to people gathering to train in battle as others started adopting the ways of commercial farming. Trained men patrolled villages, protecting them from bandits and the wild beasts of the land, largely Ghouls, dire wolves and bears, and the occasional shadowcat. Though tales of another beast in the wilds surfaced here and there.
As the villagers worked diligently, Brandon did the same, having sent messages to the giants that roamed the open planes to the south, east, and west. He however received nothing back from them as the messengers returned with no responses.
"Elder Oak, how are the talks with the children of the forest going?" asked Brandon, seated by the warm fire of his home.
"Hawthorn toils hard, a driven young sprite, uniting the groves, making the forest unite. Hornwood and Neck swiftly joined the song, the northern woods, they, too, won't be long." Elder Oak smiles. "Though the northern groves dislike humans they know when to put that aside."
"Why Hawthorn? He seemed like an alright lad, but why put him in this position, Elder?"
"He bears the weight of deeds left undone, a chance to be at peace, a battle yet to be won."
"What are you playing at Elder Oak, I think you need to stop so much with greensight."
Elder Oak just smiles at Brandon. "A dance with destiny, a story yet to be told. He has yet to have his part to play."
As the relentless march of time pressed on, Winterhaven and its surrounding villages transformed. The once quiet hamlets now echoed with the sounds of clashing blades and determined shouts. Villagers, young and old alike, participated in rigorous training sessions, honing their combat skills to face the threat. The clang of swords and the thud of arrows hitting targets became a daily occurrence.
The children of the forest provided what they could from food to more importantly quick messaging. As more Groves were united and brought in, access to ravens and people who could speak with them became more readily available. Forest Children were quickly sent around acting as portable message stations.
The Flint King, with a shrewd eye for valuable resources, made a fortuitous discovery. Deep within the craggy cliffs of his domain, he unearthed caches of obsidian. Similarly, the Red King embarked on the challenge to find obsidian and started making them into usable weapons. The process proved time-consuming, but the anticipation of arming the populace fuelled their determination.
The insidious shadow continued its relentless spread, casting a pall over the northern realms. Villagers began referring to it with dread as the "Long Night," as all that returned from that side felt like it was a never-ending night. As the darkness advanced, it brought with it an array of horrors – monstrous ice spiders, ethereal White Walkers, the dreaded Others, and the unrelenting hordes of wights. Its reach spread far and wide and even started spreading over the oceans into distant lands.
The terrors of the Long Night relentlessly marched in the darkness and soon reached the Umbar King's lands. Vicious attacks commenced, led by the Others. The once-peaceful landscapes transformed into battlegrounds, where the living and the undead clashed on the daily both inside and outside the long night.
The weights left death and destruction adding to their numbers from humans to bears, to birds and wolves, all were ensnared by the sickening lull of the enticing Others. All were brought into their fold.
News of the onslaught reached Brandon. Leaving the familiar warmth of his home, he embarked on a journey northward, determined to lend aid to the Umbar King and face the encroaching darkness head-on. The fate of Winterhaven and the entire realm rested on the shoulders of those willing to defy the shadows and stand united against the impending peril.
With a solemn determination, Brandon rallied his companions and the able-bodied men of Winterhaven and Co. Aware of the scarcity of obsidian, he faced a daunting choice: take a larger force ill-equipped to face the Others or assemble a smaller, elite group armed with the precious obsidian. Opting for the latter, Brandon meticulously ensured that each member of his party possessed a weapon forged from obsidian. It was a calculated risk, aiming to minimize casualties and prevent the enemy's ranks from swelling.
As they set forth on their journey, the landscape morphed beneath their feet. They traversed sprawling plains, crossed dense forests yet to be touched by the eerie silence of the Long Night, and eventually arrived at the sacred Grove to the north. There, the ethereal ambiance welcomed them, and Hawthorn emerged from the shadows of the ancient trees.
"Hawthorn," Brandon greeted, a sense of urgency lacing his words. "How fares your mission with the grove?"
Hawthorn smiled. "We are ready, the children of the forest stand together gathering our weapons and food before we are matched to where we are needed."
Brandon smiled before the party pressed on with a few children of the forest who carried ravens and were ready for battle. Emerging from the protective embrace of the ancient forest, Brandon and his party looked across the expansive plains that stretched far and wide beneath the brooding sky of the Long Night. Just standing on the outskirts of it they could barely see into it but still they pressed forward.
As they pressed the barrier, they navigated the desolation with the barest light of the moon and torches, not soon after the rhythmic clash of weapons and anguished cries reached their ears. Drawing closer, they discovered a group of soldiers locked in battle against a horde of wights. Without hesitation, Brandon and his companions joined the fray, obsidian blades flashing in the dim light as they fought side by side with the soldiers.
The defeated wights crumbled into frost-laden piles, and the surviving soldiers thanked Brandon before leading him to the Umbar King. The soldiers led them through the haunted landscapes, guided by the flickering light of torches and the eerie screeches of distant monsters. Soon, arriving at the heart of the Umbar King's realm and his home village.
Before them stood a majestic wooden cabin, imposing and fortified against the darkness. Its structure is masterfully crafted from sturdy logs. Smoke billowed from a stone chimney, cutting through the frigid air, and the glow of firelight within cast warm shadows on the cabin's exterior.