A boar rests atop a rock and ignores the rain pelting it’s mutilated flesh. It’s dead glassy eyes stare out at the world and the stench of death it gives off is washed away by the storm. Something for which the human guards standing beside the rock are grateful for.

“These dead animals worry me,” one of them whispers to his neighbour. If the boar hears him it makes no sign.

The second man shuffles nervously, to speak ill of their sorcerer warlord and his beasts cannot end well, he thinks. “Hmmf,” is all he says.

“I preferred the old days, when Sered led us himself instead of deferring to the sorcerer. Then we was only men you know, and men you can trust more than dead things.”

The second man shuffles some more and looks up at the boar, it hasn’t moved. “Sered could have gathered up all the warriors in the Eastlands and he still would have broken on the walls of Karasar. With Kulrod we can win. Think of that, proper houses fit for kings, and a whole city to wait on us.”

The first man shrugs. “That’s all well and good I suppose. But I don’t mind a little rough riding now and then. Not sure I’ll know what to do with myself in a big city.”

The boar shifts on its rock and peers off somewhere else. The second man lowers his voice further. “It don’t matter anyway. We best do what we’re told or we’ll be the next dead thing sorcerered back to life.”

They look up at the boar and nod silently. Then they go back to watching the surroundings.

A few hours later the boar leaves the rock and is replaced by a dead snake. The boar shuffles through the camp, which is quiet in the night as everyone remains inside. It finds the tent of Kulrod, the sorcerer warlord and shuffles in unannounced. Inside the sorcerer is looking at his new sword, the one he took off the warrior who tried to kill him. A warrior who came far closer to killing him than anyone else ever has.

Kulrod notices the boar come in and nods to it. “I still can’t work out how it works,” he says about the sword. “He had wings, Whisper Boar, wings! Wings would be useful in taking Karasar.”

“Karass...ss... sssar will ff..fff...ffall,” the boar says.

“Yes but with the true power of the sword it would fall much faster.” Kulrod holds it up to the light and admires the ornamentation.

“Th...th...the men havv...vvv...ve doubtss...ss...s about you,” the boar says.

Kulrod nods but does not look away from the sword.

“Do you wiss..shh... me to punisss...sshh...hh them?”

Kulrod shakes his head. “No, I am a sorcerer, they will always have doubts about me. Leave me,” he gestures at the door.

The boar frowns, it is not convinced. But it leaves, and Kulrod remains inside the tent examining the sword.

Outside the rain abruptly ends. The guards out by the rock feel much more comfortable, even with an undead snake curled up next to them.

The next day the tents are all taken down and the army is ready to march again. It is not a large army, for the Eastlands from which it is drawn are barren and empty of people. But with Kulrod leading it there is little that can stand in its way. They set off through the Rocklands, the undead leading the way. Kulrod and Sered walk together toward the front, they have no horses as Kulrod frightens them.

“I estimate we are only three days march from Karasar,” Sered says. “Our scouts have observed their defenses and they will pose little problem to your animals. Do you have a plan?”

Kulrod thinks for a moment, then keeps thinking.

“Kulrod?” Sered asks.

“Oh... yes... I mean no I have no plan. What would you suggest?”

Sered frowns. “Is something on your mind?”

“This sword,” he replies. “It frustrates me, I have still failed to learn how it works.”

“Well there will be plenty of time for that once we take the city.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

There is a pause.

“So we should discuss taking the city,” Sered continues.

A man rushes up from the front of the army leaving Kulrod no chance to reply.

“What is it?” Sered asks.

“Well it’s um...” the man tries to explain.

“Is there a problem?” Kulrod asks?

“Well... no... You better come and see.”

Just off the path the army is taking, nested among the rocks and boulders is a long two pronged staff and perched atop it is a small woman in crumpled baggy clothing and hat. She peers down at Kulrod with a lopsided expression, the staff she is perched on swaying ominously.

“Who are you?” the sorcerer asks suspiciously.

“I am Mad Maeggy, I travel the world and help people in need. Like yourself.”

Kulrod frowns in rage. “I need no help!”

“Do you want us to capture her?” one of the men whispers. “Those rocks are quite steep but we could probably get up there.

“We could always just shoot her, that’d knock her down from that perch,” Sered suggests.

“If you need no help why all the men helping you, and all the cute animals? You seem to need a lot of help and all for a silly little prize.”

“What? No, these men serve me! And it is no silly prize we seek, it is the crown of Karasar!”

“Oh excellent, I can help then.” The women reaches into her baggy clothes, the staff swaying further as she does so. She produces a crown which she tosses down to the men below, hitting Sered on the forehead. “Sorry,” she winces as he picks it up and glares at her.

They look at it, it is indeed the crown of Karasar. Or so they assume, having never seen it before.

“There you go, you can all go home now. I’m just glad you didn’t ask for the throne, there’s no way I could’ve fit that in my trousers.”

Kulrod grows more furious. “What? No!”

“Oh... you think I could have fit the throne in my trousers?”

“No! We don’t want some meaningless crown, we want to rule the city itself!”

“Oh.”

Sered rubs his forehead and looks at the crown in his hands, it is far fancier than anything he’s ever found in the Eastlands.

“Do you want me to shoot her?” one of his men whispers to him, drawing an arrow.

“No,” he whispers back. “If she can get us this crown perhaps she can be more useful.”

“But why do you want to rule the city?”

“Because...” Kulrod thinks for a moment, he wishes now he had figured out how the sword worked, then he could fly up there and make this woman fear him. “Because then we will have power, we will have slaves and wealth and riches, great feasts and festivals, wine and women and weapons. Anything we could ever want.”

The woman laughs which just infuriates Kulrod more. “You are a sorcerer, you can get all that anywhere. You have most of it now, ordering all these men around and preying on the slaves you took in your campaign in the Eastlands. Is that what you want, or is that what they want?” She gestures at the rest of the army. “I think what you want are the things that are harder to get than that,” she looks at the sword and Kulrod rests his hand on its hilt. Then she topples backwards and out of sight, disappearing among the rocks.

“Find her,” whispers Sered and his men begin to swarm up the rocks after her. They don’t go very fast. Kulrod rests his hand on his sword and thinks.

“Kulrod, if you send out your animals we can capture this woman easily,” Sered says to him. He looks up but his mind is clearly on other things.

“Oh, yes, find her,” he says and his snake slithers up the rocks while an owl takes off from a flagpole. They wait there for a minute but the rest of the army catches up and they are forced to move on.

That night they make camp and the men return with the owl and the snake. They have found nothing. Sered and Kulrod discuss strategies for the assault on Karasar but the sorcerer’s heart is not in it. He mostly agrees with everything his general says and offers no ideas of his own. Sered is worried as he leaves the tent that night, Kulrod is not the same as the tyrannical warlord who conquered the Eastlands, there is something deeply wrong.

Kulrod is a sorcerer and so he does not sleep. Instead he stays awake and thinks. He holds the crown, the crown that this whole campaign was about but it is meaningless. Tossed carelessly to him by a woman on the side of the road. He thinks about what he is really here for.

The next day Sered gives orders to the men that if they see the woman again they are to shoot her on sight. He tries to keep these orders secret from Kulrod but the dead things in the camp hear the whispers and Kulrod learns of these orders. He does nothing though, only thinks.

Today they enter the Howling Forest, a place full of wolves. He had once planned to gather a pack of undead wolves here but now it hardly seems to matter. They will win with or without them, gathering them is just extra work.

This time Kulrod walks at the head of the army. Sered tags along beside him much to his own discomfort. The head of the army is where any opposing armies will be. It is alright for Kulrod who is immortal but Sered definitely isn’t.

The trees stretch overhead and block out the sun, and out in the distance the howling of wolves can be heard. But the forest is thick and dark and seeing very far from the path is difficult. Sered is nervous. Kulrod isn’t.

Up in the trees a voice calls down to them. “Hello,” it says and immediately Sered’s archer shoots at it. Maeggy is perched up in a tree this time, far above the path and looks shocked to see the arrow come her way. She tries to hide behind a branch as the archer loads but he is too fast. The arrow comes for her and then the undead owl swoops in front of it. It pierces straight through the owl and stops. The owl lands softly on the ground and works on removing the arrow stuck through it. As it is dead it seems mostly unaffected by it.

“Do not shoot!” Kulrod says and Sered grows even more nervous. “What do you have to say now Maeggy? More crowns to throw at us?”

The woman grins a lopsided smile, relieved that she hasn’t been shot. “Just checking up on you all. Is your friend’s forehead okay?”

Kulrod smiles, Sered doesn’t like that. “He’ll manage. We are still invading Karasar.”

“Yes I noticed. Any better reasons for it this time?”

Kulrod is still smiling. “It’s more comfortable there.”

Sered is relieved, perhaps his all powerful ally is still going to get him what he wants.

Maeggy frowns. “You sure about that? You ever been in a big city before?”

The smile slowly fades from Kulrod’s face.

“It smells and it’s cramped, much more so than out here. And there are so many people! A constant press of bodies and crowds wherever you want to go and whatever you want to do. Can’t even imagine having to run the whole place, keeping everyone in some semblance of order because they are not good at staying in any type of order. A city looks very big and impressive but unless you’re used to it, it’s probably best to stay out here.”

“We do not take orders from you witch!” Sered yells.

Maeggy raises her eyebrows at that, she is not a witch. “No, I’d guess you don’t take orders from anyone,” she says down to them, but she is talking to Kulrod and he knows it. She grabs a branch and swings up into the trees. There is rustling and then she is gone.

Kulrod stands in the middle of the road and looks up at where she went. He looks up for a long time.

That night they arrive in Shandran, the little town. It is abandoned now, the approaching army has scared everyone off. So they take the houses for themselves, the biggest and best going to Kulrod and Sered. Kulrod lies on a bed and looks up at the ceiling, thinking on the witch’s words. He is in a house now, a house much like those in the city and he does not care. It is merely another place to sleep, somewhere safe from the cold. But he is a sorcerer, he cares nothing for the cold.

His animals have been telling him for weeks that some of the men have doubts about living in a city. They, like him, are all from farms and small towns in the Eastlands. They know nothing of cities. What if what she says is true? What if a city is a horrible place full of the press and stink of humanity. He thinks of the latrine pits they must dig for the men each time they make camp, they are rank and disgusting and that is only for their small army. What must that be like on a city wide scale. And he would be in charge of it all. Already among his small army he has felt the burden of leadership. Even as a sorcerer he often finds there is never enough resources to do the things that need to be done. He lies there and thinks. Thinking deeply like this is something he has not done for a long time.

The next day Maeggy does not appear as they march the last few miles toward the city. Sered has all their plans worked out and Kulrod does not speak with him. As they approach the sun sets and the sky grows dark. They make camp on a hill and can see all the lights of the city in the distance. It is huge. There are lights stretching all across the land. Kulrod cannot imagine how many people it must take to make that many lights. Their small camp looks rather pathetic by comparison.

“It is a big city,” he says to Sered as they look on.

“Yes but we have a sorcerer,” Sered replies. “They don’t stand a chance.”

Kulrod nods slowly, but that is not what he is worried about.

In his tent his owl arrives and tells him what it has found. He throws on a cloak, the hood down so his men do not recognise him. Then when he leaves it he puts up the hood and walks silently through the hills and abandoned farms around Karasar.

Sure enough in an old barn, resting on bales of hay are two women, one muscled and covered in scars, and the other is Maeggy.

The muscled one leaps up when he appears in the doorway, the dead owl on his shoulder. She grabs a sword but it appears she has no idea how to use it. Maeggy picks up her two-pronged staff and rests lithely on her bare feet, ready to spring away.

Kulrod puts back his hood and draws his own sword. “Do not try and fight me, you will not win.”

The two women don’t move at all, still in their stances ready for battle. Kulrod sighs and puts his sword away. “I am here to talk.”

“We’re listening,” Maeggy says and smiles, still ready to jump away.

“How did Ceros die?”

Maeggy looks confused. “What?”

“How did he die? I was thinking about it last night. He was supposedly killed by this sword but the sword alone isn’t enough to kill a sorcerer so he must have been killed by something else.”

Maeggy shrugged. “Maybe Randolph Thar got lucky.”

“No, it’s literally impossible to kill a sorcerer with this sword unless you are a sorcerer yourself.”

Maeggy thinks about this. “Maybe he was a sorcerer?”

“Sorcerer’s can’t produce live children, and even then you’d think someone would have noticed his golden eyes.”

“True, what do you think happened?”

Kulrod shrugged. “I don’t know, I was hoping you’d know.”

“I am very wise.”

Kulrod looks to the lights of the city, far in the distance. “I’m thinking there must be something else in that city. Something powerful enough to kill a sorcerer. The sword was just a cover story.”

“Mmm spooky.”

Kulrod keeps looking off into the distance, letting the two women stay in their battle stances for as long as they want. “I suppose whatever it is it couldn’t be safe to go in and try to take Ceros’ place.”

“Yes very true. Best to avoid the city completely.”

“Yes, it’s a shame.” He turns and wanders off into the darkness, leaving the two women in their barn.

“We should leave,” the muscled one says.

“Yes definitely,” Maeggy replies. He hadn’t attacked them but antagonising a sorcerer is always dangerous. They pack up and run away.

Back in the little town Sered sleeps with one of the slaves they’d captured in the Eastlands when Kulrod bursts in fully dressed in his new spider cloak, wearing his sword at his hip and his owl on his shoulder.

Sered jerks awake and fumbles desperately for some clothes. “What is it? Are we being attacked?”

“No,” Kulrod replies and Sered stopps, confused. “I am leaving.”

“Wh-? What! But without you we’ll never take the city.”

“No, you won’t,” Kulrod walks out and leaves. A barely clothed Sered stumbling after him.

Two women sneak through a hidden entrance into Karasar and shortly afterward word spreads that the dreaded sorcerer has left the invading army on the eve of their victory. In the morning the forces of the city bear down upon the little down and destroy the army there, sure enough the sorcerer is nowhere to be seen. He wanders off into the distance, his sword at his hip.