Chapter 1：Epilogue

A warrior rides a white stallion. Mist shrouds the land behind him and the wind only gives glimpses of the corpses strewn around him mangled and disfigured in all sorts of ways. To his left and right more riders emerge from the mist of war, more fearsome warriors, with their armour dented and smeared with the blood of their enemies and comrades alike. A soldier in battered armour carries the standard, Briar's rose petals surrounded by thorns in black and white on a blood red field. They come out in ones and twos, slow in their movement, more standards appeared and soon the horizon was flooded with soldiers and standards flowing in the wind. Each hoof lands with the finality of tomb doors closing, no sound follows the action and each bounce in the saddle takes an eternity. Beside the lead rider sits a warrior in plate armour the metal showing the rainbow hues of oiled steel. Beside him an older, dark haired, knight rides with black curls plastered to his forehead, a direwolf's head on his round shield, worked in black steel and silver, broadsword at his hip and crossbow secured to his saddle. A second rider in chain mail on a brown charger rides to their left at ease in his saddle as any sailor on a rolling deck. His armour the work of Gothic engravings of Gold Fields, his cloak red in the memory of his houses past, on his shield the golden lion and the red field of the House Law. The man at the centre, the arrow point of this army stare straight ahead of him, eyes locked on Iron Hall.