Sige Town

Night had fallen, and the snowfall was tapering off. Only scattered flakes drifted down through the dark, settling atop a thick crust of snow on the ground. A shroud of black silence hung over the town. Windows and doors were bolted tight, families hurried their children indoors, and only the baron's manor stood ablaze with light. Carved into the stone marker at the crossroads was a name: Sige Town. Situated on the outermost frontier of House Lackman's territory, the town was surrounded by wide, fertile lands well-suited for farming. A century ago, an ancestor of House Lackman had led his retainers here to clear the wilderness, founding Sige Town. It had once been a prosperous settlement of over a thousand residents, providing a steady supply of grain to the surrounding region. Yet due to its isolated location, brutal monsters—frost giants, yetis, and even white dragons—had raided it time and again. The settlement had been repaired and rebuilt multiple times, leaving barely four hundred inhabitants. Most of them were serfs bound to the soil. The rest were petty peddlers, millers, ostlers, and servants tending to the nobility. House Lackman only ever enfeoffed neglected kin to this desolate post, their sole purpose to produce grain for Northwind Keep. Not long after Baron Todd was dispatched here, rumors of a "Night Devil" began spreading through Sige Town. Several young women vanished mysteriously in the night, plunging the populace into panic and leaving the locals living in constant dread. *** Inside the manor. Baron Todd Lackman sat before an ornate wooden table, resting his chin on his hands, his expression grim. A silver goblet before him held a thick, crimson liquid. "That damned Cinder Nest..." A shadow fell across his face at the mere mention of the name. Every man he had dispatched to the mine had been wiped out. Hart, his former head butler, had reportedly been captured as well, leaving only a handful of worthless serfs who managed to flee back. At first, he had assumed the report was nothing more than lies spun by those wretched slaves. Yet just days later, House Lackman's most elite Eagle Guard had suffered catastrophic losses in that very place known as "Cinder Nest." Only then had he been forced to accept the truth of the report. If even the Northwind Eagle Guard could not bring down that monster lair—a place rumored to be the roost of the red dragon dubbed "Flying Flame"—how could he possibly attack it with the meager garrison under his command? He had no gold. He had no army. All he possessed were lowly, feeble serfs and a few guards sent by his house. He might not be the firstborn, but he was a true-blooded son of the duke nonetheless. Was he truly doomed to guard this forsaken outpost for the rest of his days, supplying grain to his family and forever barred from the halls of power? "I will return to Northwind Keep." "Father will acknowledge me in the end." At the thought, the baron's gaunt face grew darker still, and a flicker of hunger gleamed deep in his eyes. It seemed he would need some fresh nourishment tonight to calm his nerves. "My Lord, outside there is..." A guard burst through the door in a hurry, clearly bearing urgent news. Yet the moment he realized he had interrupted the baron's train of thought—and caught the ravenous, predatory glint in Todd's eyes—the man clamped his mouth shut in terror. Seeing that it was a guard, Todd forcibly suppressed the bloodlust welling up from within. Fixing the man with an unhurried gaze, he asked calmly, "What is so urgent?" "Urgent enough... to disturb my rest?" The guard's scalp prickled under Todd's stare. Though the baron had not been enfeoffed here long, the locals secretly whispered of him as the "Bloody Baron." Some time ago, a maidservant had stained his dress robes while tidying his quarters. Ever since, the girl had vanished without a trace, never to be seen in Sige Town again. With that memory fresh in mind, the guard answered tremulously, "M-My Lord, it's Hart." "A man outside claims to be Hart. He demands to see you." Hearing that familiar name, Todd slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet, barking, "Impossible!" "Wasn't he captured?" The guard shook his head in a panic, stammering, "I—I don't know, My Lord!" "Bring him in," Todd commanded coldly. The guard hesitated, stammering, "He said... he humbly asks that you step outside to meet him. He claims he has something of great importance to present." The guard's voice verged on tears. Todd thought of the gold and troops he had lost, and of the rumors that Hart had been taken captive. Fury flared within him, twisting into a harsh, mocking laugh. "Fine, fine, fine!" "Where is he? I'll go see for myself." "Let us see how this deserter... this dear subordinate of mine... has been faring." Baron Todd ground the words out through clenched teeth. "Yes, My Lord." Though trembling with dread, the guard obeyed, leading the baron toward the manor's entrance. The manor was newly built and not particularly large. Passing through the main hall and walking down a narrow corridor dozens of paces long, the two men soon reached the gate. The figure standing outside was clad in rags, his hair tangled and his face caked in grime. At a casual glance, one might have taken him for an orc; nothing remained of the former head butler's high-spirited bearing. Yet the moment Todd caught the familiar scent of the man's blood, he knew beyond doubt—this was indeed Hart. The baron spoke first, his tone dripping with mockery: "Hart. It has been a long time." "Is this not my once-most-trusted retainer? The man who promised to bring me gold?" "Why disappear for so long, only to crawl back here now?" Hart looked exceedingly uneasy. "Baron Todd, I have critical intelligence to report to you." "Oh? What intelligence?" Todd regarded him with a faint, mocking smile. Beneath the hatred in his eyes lurked raw hunger; his reason was beginning to slip away. As it happened, he had not fed on fresh blood in some time. Once Hart delivered his report, he would be of no further use—and would serve nicely as his next meal. "I must ask that your men withdraw," Hart said, his voice trembling faintly. "Very well." "All of you, dismiss." The baron granted the request, sending the guards away and accompanying Hart to a secluded corner of the manor's rear garden. This suited his own designs perfectly. As far as he was concerned, Hart was walking straight into his own grave. Baron Todd's pupils had turned a vivid crimson. He sneered, "Speak, Hart. I am curious to hear how you plan to defend yourself." Hart trembled even more violently, forcing a smile that looked uglier than weeping. He enunciated every word: "The. Dragon. Has. Arrived." Before Baron Todd could even register the words, he blurted in confusion, "What?" In the next instant, a colossal shadow fell over him, blotting out the world. Vast wings unfurled, swallowing half the night sky and cutting off the pouring moonlight. The red dragon looked down at the baron from above, a hideous grin playing across his fearsome maw, his golden slit pupils gleaming faintly in the dark. "Do you need me to repeat that for you, My Lord Baron whom I've yet to meet?" "The dragon has arrived."