Riverwatch stood at the edge of the southern plains, a fortress proud and defiant.
Its walls had repelled raiders for decades. Its lords were cunning, ambitious, and fearless—or so they believed.
Aren watched from the ridge, Lysa and Caelis beside him.
"No walls can withstand whispers," he said.
"Fear bends stone as easily as it bends men."
The Shadow Army moved quietly through the forests surrounding the fortress.
Patrols were subtle, spies embedded in villages, and rumors carried through trade routes.
By the time Riverwatch's guards realized something was amiss, the fortress had already begun to crumble from within.
Lord Marwick, Riverwatch's ruler, convened his council.
"Reports of shadowed men in our roads. Villagers disappearing. Spies in our kitchens," one adviser said nervously.
Marwick's face turned pale.
"Impossible. Who would dare…?"
A messenger arrived with letters.
Each carried the same chilling message:
The Wolf sees all. Loyalty is safer than defiance.
Fear spread faster than any army.
Soldiers doubted their commanders.
Merchants hid their support.
Even the river patrols hesitated, unsure who would strike next.
By nightfall, the gates of Riverwatch were opened quietly.
No assault. No siege engines.
The Shadow Army entered silently, every soldier a ghost in the fortress halls.
Inside, Marwick knelt.
"Mercy," he whispered.
Aren's eyes were cold, but measured.
"Obedience is mercy," he said.
By dawn, Riverwatch pledged allegiance.
The southern campaign had begun not with fire or blood—but with fear, whispers, and the inevitability of the Wolf's shadow.
Aren stood atop the walls, watching the southern plains.
"Stone and sword are strong," he murmured.
"But shadows… shadows conquer all."