The small column of soldiers trudged along the narrow track as snow fell through the trees and slowly obscured the sign of their passing in the fading afternoon light. Axl's patrol had been charged with guarding this stretch of the border for almost two years; long enough for him to know that the unshakable chill in his feet and hands was a welcome price to pay for snow that helped his men track marauding beastmen and orcs. Raiders were never careful hiding their footprints. In the summer marauders sometimes caught patrols completely by surprise. Axl had seen the results of ambushes and even though there had been no sightings for weeks, the memory of that carnage made him glad to know that he had reliable men scouting ahead and to the flanks of his column.

While scanning the woods, Axl let his mind wander to another cold wintry day twenty years before. Back then, Chaos marauders swarmed across the land burning everything that lay in their path. The forces of evil were nearly upon the gates of Bel Sham Haroth when the great leaders of the civilized world met at the Council of Bak-San and rallied the forces of Order. Even with all civilization united, the invaders nearly defiled the Wellspring and with it any hope at maintaining the magical barriers that guarded reality against the Dungeon Dimensions. On that icy day twenty years ago, Axl's mother told him that their men had won the battle and that Chaos was vanquished. She also told him that his father was dead and would never return home.

The patrol came to a small clearing in the trees where their trail met with others snaking down from the ridges on either side of the narrow valley. Droplets of blood stained the ground leading from the right track to where a young man sat slumped against a tree. "Martin!" Axl gasped as he dismounted. Martin's ashen face turned to Axl and Axl noticed the missing hand and bloody gashes across the scout's chest. "Ambush," Martin whispered, "So many of them...me and Sparrow got away, but Sparrow...too much blood to go for more than a mile...left him to the...the..." "The what?!" demanded Axl crouching before the dying man. Martin lifted his face, grimacing. He opened his mouth to speak, but as he did, Axl saw a flicker of movement down the path behind Martin and froze. "Daemons," Martin croaked.

As if on cue, the peeling bray of horns sounded from the woods. Axl leapt to his feet already running to the quiver of arrows when he saw hundreds of shapes careening down from the heights on the north side of the trail. "Heinrich!" Axl shouted, "Get word to the Captain that we're under attack! We must alert the garrison at Grim Keep. Go!" The horseman turned and galloped back down the trail retracing the patrol's route at top speed. "If only we can hold them off long enough for Heinrich to warn the Captain," Axl thought. His heart sank as he saw the daemonic light glow brighter and brighter through the trees. "STEADY MEN!" he shouted, ready to meet his doom.