[Galion]

In the summer of 2209 AC, power surged from the Tower of Aetius, prismatic colors cutting across the sky. For the first time in years, the gateway to the cosmic prison was opened. Monsters are set free. Anew is new flesh for them, and a prompt congregation shapes into a camp within the lands of Meranthe. Virtually lawless by nature, yet acting as a hub, that which caters to the wild by nature drawn to it.

Numerous magical beasts congregate at the location, perhaps by the intrinsic instinctual rules. No matter the reason, wild natures and instinct is pulled to a singular point, pressure accumulating toward an inevitable rupture. The Greywatch Guard is the nearest neighbor, observation of phenomenon from lower ranking members in the passing year progressing into hostilities. 

Clashes between Greywatch Guardsmen and Low to Mid-Grade Magical Beasts becomes a daily occurrence. Warnings were screaming in the air, it was only a matter of time.

On one fateful, misty night, one howl becomes many on the toward the grassy slopes of the reinvigorated mountain. Through surrounding forestry, an full-scale attack begins. A tide of beasts, organized just long enough to give a direction.

A malicious tide, with seemingly no true purpose beyond rampant chaos & destruction, pursuing its nearest target.

Pandæmonium

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Objective: Raze the Greywatch
When: -------

[AdmiralDigi]

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Fall of 2210 AC.

"By the order and the word, of my father, the Armiger of house Caewynn, steward of their name and bearer of their standard, Nadir Eisande.

The Greywatch will stand.

The bespoke towers stand at the wide and far ends of either side of a great chasm of freshwater. Volcanic vents warm the springs and keep the valley's beach warm for the illicit deals at the foot of the recently acquired extension. Although, it is no mere resource or bargain that Speira are in search of. It is loosely directed, unguided, destruction.

They will find no quarter, recourse, or peace. They will find the wood familiar to senses sealed for hundreds of years amidst their evergaol, 
but they will not find these woods familiar. This is the Greywatch, and this is its bridge.
So fastidious, even the wind must wait to pass.

Notched arrows rack in rows, columns of fletching line up in tandem to bare down on the bridge. The camp to the south only spared by distance, yet those ferocious things would have to leave the cover of bramble and canopy sooner or later. 

There is, time again and again, proven, to be no recourse for these things other than what they crave; death.
And so shall it be. Se'ra nu se'ra.
By the decree of Armiger Nadir Eisande, with the sanctioned blessings of the Realm,

shall yet the world
lay their eyes upon the
Wyld Hunt."

Wednesday: 6:30 PM EST.