Traitors Hand

There weren’t always Dragons in the valley. And sometimes I think that we would have been better off without them. Our civilization had been built on the confluence of 2 rivers. From the North flows the Red River, its name coming from the high iron content in the soil that it brings with it. The Journey River flows from the West and it was this river that the Elders navigated so long ago before leaving their boats the establish our nation in the heart of this valley. To the South and West lie the mountains of the Dragons and to the East, the land of the Wraths. The demons of the East. The Wraiths look like us from a distance but have soft, translucent skin that changes color like a chameleon to make them almost invisible to the normal, untrained eye. They’re gifted in stealth and are technically proficient in armed combat. Dragons however, are a peculiar species. They can take the form of a human, similar in shape and size but not in color. They shapeshift to walk among us, but their magic does not enable them to change the details of their appearance. When they come down to trade and speak to us, they come in a form like ours, only their skin is the color of burnt bronze and they look like a lizard that grew legs and a threw on a set of pants. In their natural form they are in fact giant reptiles complete with the claws, tails and wings that allow them to glide down from the mountains, but they cannot fly, just glide. Anyways, that’s what they tell us, but I don’t trust them. They may not kill us like the Wraiths seem to enjoy doing, but the Dragons are a scheming people, and I wouldn’t turn my back on them unless I knew that they were dead first. They are peaceful and we have a good trading relationship with them, but I still don’t trust them. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Better paranoid than dead.

So here I am, alone at the top of this watchtower set to begin yet another day of watching the pass through the Eastern mountains. The Wraith civilization was somewhere out there, and I have yet to find the desire to go look for it. I’ve seen what happens to the ones who did search for it. The Wraith like to drop off the remains at our borders as a reminder of their desire to remain “untouched” by us “filthy humans.” My name is Nathan Cisero and I am a warrior by trade. But this watchtower does not provide much combat experience, so I read and write, and I now consider myself to be a scholar and a student more than a warrior. But I do take the time to hone my skills. I am here for a reason and that reason is as a protector. I am not alone here. I am one of 4 watchers in the Eastern pass tower. The other three are Morgan Fisher who is our Mage and the only woman among us, William Bend who is our commander and Mark Maquain who is the greatest archer I have ever seen. What is my job you ask? I am a rover, a pathfinder, and a runner. I probe the path through the pass to hopefully provide advanced warning of any Wraith incursion. My day begins up here at the top of the tower in the main hall. Mark usually makes coffee while Morgan cooks and William puts together the days tasks to include my next mission. But today is different. Before dawn I was woken up by William who gave me an unusual task. I am to take our monthly report back to the Elders council in the capital. This is unusual because we normally hand off our report to the cart master that resupplies us once a month. Why am I being charged with this task? I can’t help but feel that there is something that William knows that has triggered a reaction in his cautious mind. I got up from the morning meeting, wrote a list of things the others either needed or wanted from the shops outside the council district, put my small pack on, grabbed my sword and bow before leaving the tower and beginning my trip Westward towards the city.

Two days into my trip I arrived at the closest village to the Eastern pass. Coming over the hill I looked upon a scene of destruction, death, and carnage like I had never seen. A whole village slaughtered and burnt. The bodies of the dead were ripped apart and the pieces hung from trees or thrown in piles. My blood ran hot. I had known these people personally. They were farmers, blacksmiths, leatherworkers and now, victims of a Wraith incursion. This was the first time the Wraiths had managed to bypass a watchtower. This is war. But there was no way for them to bypass a watchtower. At least, not without help. As the thought entered my mind and chill ran down my spine. They would had to have had help from a Dragon to bypass a tower. A Dragon, or a Human Traitor.