Amelia was the first to see them. A ravaging horde of monsters on its way to our tiny settlement.
She sent her sister to warn us and climbed the old water tower with her bow.
Had her aim not been true we would have fallen that day.
With the creatures dead we investigated. We discovered they were not alone, more would be coming.
We traded their weapons and hides. The small runes they carried fetched a good price as well.
From the sale we converted the old water tower for our hunters to scout the enemy, while Amelia trained more archers.
They came again, more and more each time. We could barely increase our defences to cover the seemingly endless horde.
As time passed we stopped being farmers, we trained everyone to repel the horde.
Our towers now rain death for over a hundred miles. Warden Amelia’s rangers number in the thousands.
Our proud nation is a machine for war. Our economy based on blood.
I don’t fear the horde marching toward our door.
I fear the day they stop.