Milton - Myrthana

The once busy roads of the Kingdom of Myrthana were mostly empty. Except for Orcs and mercenaries, almost no one dared travel between towns or villages.

The road to Erylas, the capital of Myrthana, was empty except for four riders and their horses. A fifth horse had the carcasses of two deer and some pelts and furs. The riders were dressed simple—trousers, pants, and cloaks. The cloaks were mottled grey, green, and brown. A man with wings was embroidered on the left side of the cloaks—the mark of the Dark God. The riders had the hoods of their cloaks over their heads, and shadows hid their faces. They rode in silence, studying the dusty road or the green forest.

One of the riders, the biggest and the strongest, lifted his head and looked at the sky for a few seconds before turning his attention back to the road. He said nothing as he rushed his black horse. The others did the same as they followed his lead.

Sometime later, they reached a bridge. Orcs and human mercenaries wearing ar