5/20/2026: Preparations for Wintersplinter

The city wakes before dawn. Word moves through Vallaki the way bad news always does — in whispers first, then in the clatter of boots on cobblestone, then in torchlight multiplying along the walls. Preparations for the arrival of Wintersplinter are underway.

Komzin finds Dunlar in the building that used to be Krieger's, a table spread with rough maps and a candle burning low. Dunlar doesn't look up when he enters.

"I heard you were back," he says. "I also heard other things. We'll discuss them when this is over."

Komzin pulls out a chair. "Reasonable," he says, and sits.

Danika is there too, still catching her breath, her dark hair damp from the cold. She'd flown the road herself, tracked the creature's pace, estimated its course. She leans over the map and places a finger on the Sunset Gate. "It's coming straight. It doesn't wander. Whatever is driving it, it knows where it's going."

⚔

Bayleaf arrives from Wachterhaus just as Trei, one of the Burgomaster's knights, is organizing the front line, his voice carrying the particular calm of a man who has stopped pretending fear isn't present and decided to work around it. The elf paladin takes a position without being asked, and Trei glances at him once and nods — the only acknowledgment either of them needs.

Hoolian, another of the Burgomaster's knights, is nowhere in evidence.

Father Lucian stands near the door of the command house with his hands folded, watching the guards move into place. He catches Bayleaf's eye. "Whatever comes through that gate," he says quietly, "I'll be praying to the Morninglord for protection. He will watch over the citizenry of Vallaki until it's done."

The catapults are loaded. The pitch is ready. The torches are lit along the wall.

Danika shifts, and there is a raven where she was standing. She lifts from the sill without a sound and disappears into the grey above the road north, where Wintersplinter is still an hour away — and closing.