Morrigan's Lost

Prologue

Lord Commander Roeland strode out of his tent at the middle of the encampment, his heavy cape fluttering in the light wind. Arrayed around were the newly tithed forces from Morrigan, a small measly island bordering the country of Eflil. Filled with swamps and dark forests, the island's occupants lived pitiful lives, barely surviving on the crops they grew and with the revenue they got from selling the gems they brought up from deep within the planet.

Men and woman alike rushed around him as they prepared for the celebration later that day. It was to commemorate the addition of Morrigan to the Empire of Claena, the island had only recently come into contact with the Empire, but had readily taken hold of its ideals and beliefs. There was to be a display by the newly formed cohorts, each numbering roughly a thousand men. A total of about six of these new cohorts had been raised, a force to show the commitment of Morrigan to the Empire.

The Lord Commander strode forward with purpose, the newly appointed Praetor, the previous king of the small island country had requested that they dine together before the celebration. Roeland did not look forward to spending any more time than necessary on such trivial matters. The cohorts needed to be transported by ship to Eflil and from there to other parts of the Empire where the war against both the neighboring nations under the banner of the Silverfall Alliance and the ancient darkness was not going well.

From the encampment on the hill overlooking the main city of Morrigan, the Lord Commander could see the various ships bustling with both men and supplies sitting in the makeshift harbor his engineers had constructed over the past week. His eyes were drawn towards the black ship which stood out from the rest. The Order of Black Roses was a sore sight, its presence a necessary evil against the ancient darkness. Filled with an abundance of men and women who practiced the Fell, the ability to bend the elements to their will, they were generally shunned by the population of the Empire. But Morrigan had a surprisingly large number of people who practiced the Fell, albeit without proper understanding. Miners who had for generations used the Fell to bring precious gems from deep within the sentient dark forests of Morrigan up to the surface.

The Order had sent a small force to take control over the 6th cohort, one which the Lord Commander had grudgingly allowed, the support of the Order was gravely needed against both the darkness and the Alliance. His gaze shifted towards the separate encampment the Order had set up near where their ship had laid anchor. The 6th cohort was unlike the rest in the fact that it only had about 400 men, all of whom had volunteered once they heard that they could master the Fell. What would normally be considered a depleted cohort, Roeland knew for a fact that the Order fought harder than anyone, their use of the Fell alongside their strong martial prowess made every one of the 6th cohort a force to be reckoned with. Once they were trained at least.

Morrigan's only military force had been the king's own knights, all of whom had joined the 1st cohort. The rest of the men had been either farmers or livestock breeders, men and women who hoped to get off the island, one which actively sought to kill them. The dark forests were filled with trees which moved, blocking any paths laid down and occasionally carrying away those who tried to walk through them alone. Fire and axe did little to them, only the gem bringers who practiced a primitive form of the Fell could pass through the forests without harm.

As the Lord Commander finally reached the small mansion of the Praetor, he sent away the trio of guards who had been quietly shadowing his movements on the lookout for anyone who may harm him. As the gold gilded gates swung open with the assistance of two burly looking knights dressed in full body armor. Roeland shook his head in disgust at the sight of the lavishly designed armor, knowing that the gold plated armor was more for show than for effectiveness. Before him, the mansion doors opened and the Praetor strode out surrounded by more of his knights, all of whom were similarly equipped to the two manning the gates.