When told about the Fort, Nathan had imagined it would be a great structure taken right out of the legend of Camelot. Fortified walls of stone and mortar, defensive towers, portcullis, and perhaps even a moat and a keep. The whole set.

  Instead, he found... a high-rise of the old communist blueprint. Not stone and mortar, but brick and mortar. A large square with 10 floors of apartments on three sides and a wrought iron fence with a gate on the last one. No moat, but there were spikes surrounding the building and primitive barbed wire covering the first floor. All outward windows were bricked up on the first three floors. The roof had provisional lookout posts on all corners, and crossbows were pointing out of quite a few windows. Despite its origins, Nathan had to admit that it looked substantial.

  The guards on the gate had a more traditional look, wearing breastplates over sheepskin and casually holding halberds at the ready. Nathan tried to analyze them, but didn’t get any useful info. In his professional opinion, they looked solid.

  One of them spoke up when Nathan got close. “Haven’t seen you around here before. Are you lost, or are you another one of those travelers?”

  Nathan straightened up, adjusted his cloak, and kept his face neutral. While he didn't have anything to hide, these looked like hard men, and he didn't want any trouble.

  "I'm an adventurer, I suppose," he said in a calm voice. "I'm here on behalf of the Mayor of the Last Valley village. He sent me with a warning about an impending goblin attack in the valley, and with a plea for help."

  The guard eyed Nathan up and down, taking in every detail of his appearance. "Goblins, eh? Sounds like you need to speak to the Commander. He's usually in the building straight ahead. Just remember to keep your nose clean. Don't cause any trouble, or you'll regret it." With that, he gestured for Nathan to pass through the gate.

  Once inside, a lot was going on. Soldiers drilling in one corner and blacksmiths working hard in another. A food station stood along one of the walls, and a stable along one of the others. Close to the gate, a group of soldiers were preparing to leave and was going through the motions.

  Nathan stopped and watched with admiration as the soldiers moved with purpose. There was a strong sense of order and discipline in their actions, a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of the camp around them. Every man and woman was diligently checking and rechecking their weapons and equipment, with an efficient urgency that could only have come from years of practice and experience.

  He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret. While it was comforting to see the workings of an experienced outfit, it also reminded him of the old days when he used to be a part of something similar. He missed it. The camaraderie. The action.

  No point dwelling on any of that, he thought to himself while he pushed on through the bustling crowd of soldiers in the yard, trying to keep his focus on reaching the commander's office instead of dwelling on all that had happened in the past. Dodging a few stragglers, he soon reached his destination.

  The building had been modified more than Nathan initially had thought. A large wooden door opened into what could be described as a greeting hall. A plain but functional carpet stretched from the door to the main table. Wooden carved columns had replaced the walls on each side of the carpet. Iron chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a warm glow across the room. There was a large fireplace in the middle of the room, with a shaft above it for ventilation. The room also had some unconventional decorations: weapons, armor, and shields. They looked functional.

  The room smelled of leather, wood, and iron with a hint of sandalwood incense lingering in the air, giving it a homey feel even amidst all its martial formality.

  There was no mistaking the Commander. He was a tall, imposing figure in well-used plate armor decorated with intricate patterns and symbols of bronze and green. It glinted in the light from the chandeliers. On the table beside him was a heavy-looking helmet with a chainmail face guard. In a scabbard at his side, an unadorned longsword. A heavy shield, easily accessible, leaned up against the table on his left. He ate elegantly. Rough hands gently and surely manipulating the cutlery as if he was enjoying the roasted meat and freshly baked bread at court instead of at a fort in the mountains. He was a sight to behold and exuded a strong aura of power and authority.

  Before Nathan could move any closer, he heard a small cough. "And you are?" a thin, bespectacled man asked as he moved slightly in front of Nathan as if to bar the way. The man, who Nathan assumed to be an aide of some sort, gave him a scrutinizing look that made Nathan feel like he was being sized up.

  "I'm Eclipse," he replied with a small, uncertain bow. "I am here on behalf of the Mayor of the Last Valley village, and request to speak with the Commander".

  The man nodded as if expecting as much. "Unfortunately, the Commander is rather busy and cannot spare any time for petitions right now. He's just returned from battle and will be leaving again shortly. He cannot let himself be distracted," he explained with a hint of finality in his voice, implying that it was not open for negotiation.

  "However," he continued before Nathan could protest, "I am willing to hear you out. Please, follow."

  Nathan hesitated for just a moment before he trudged along.

  The man led Nathan over to the stairwell and one floor up, passed some guards, and into a small office filled with books, scrolls, items, and the occasional trinket. All neatly organized in wall-to-wall bookshelves. A simple work desk and chair with two more chairs in front of it were positioned at the back of the room.

  "Have a seat", the man gestured while following his own instruction. Once seated behind the desk, he picked up a scroll and a quill from one of the drawers.

  "So, 'Eclipse', on behalf of the 'Mayor of the Last Valley village', which is named...?"

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  "Bruce deNile, with a lowercase 'd', and uppercase ‘N’."

  "'Bruce deNile'", the man wrote down both names on the scroll as he spoke. “Not a local name...” he mumbled to himself.

  "Right," he looked up. "I am Chief Clerk Kent and can speak for the Iron Guard in most cases. So, tell me, Eclipse, how can the guard and I be of assistance?"

  Without wasting any more time, Nathan gave a detailed account of the events of Lost Valley: the initial incursion, the ominous note, the increased goblin activity in the woods, and the attempt to isolate the valley.

  Chief Clerk Kent listened patiently, and when Nathan was finished, he gave a deep sigh.

  "This is a serious situation indeed," he said gravely. "I understand why the mayor needs help, and I sympathize with his plight. But I'm afraid the Guard is already stretched thin. Much like your goblins, our sworn enemies - the undead - have been heavily encroaching on our territory lately. We have several patrols out trying to contain them, but admittedly with little success. As things stand, even if we wanted to help, we don't have anyone we can send."

  "The... undead? What are they?" asked Nathan.

  Kent's eyes narrowed as he leaned back. "Tell me, how much do you know about the Iron Guard and our mission?"

  "Very little. I know that you are an order dedicated to fighting the undead, but not much past that. I've never encountered the undead myself, and frankly, the whole concept of living dead seems weird to me. How can they even exist?"

  "Ah, yes," Kent said. "I've heard some theories from other adventurers such as yourself. Speculations that they have been reanimated by dark magic, either through necromancy or by the essence of dark spirits. That they're soulless and mindless, driven only by their insatiable hunger for the living." He nearly spat out his next words. "Superstition and wild guesses." He sighed. "In truth, the root cause of the undead are the same as most other problems surrounding us: technology.”

  “How so?”

  “Well... We don’t have the full picture, but over the years, we’ve found quite a few research logs and other documents that, combined, let us see some of the picture. Enough for us to draw some conclusion as to ‘how’ at least... but perhaps not so much as to ‘why’. But that is as good a place to start as any.”

  The Chief Clerk stood up, put his hands behind his back, and paced around the room while explaining further. “While speculative, we believe it started as a hunt for eternal life. To this end, someone – probably one or more individuals at the start, but corporations took over at some later point – started to experiment with nanotechnology and its potential to heal and rejuvenate living tissue. After a lot of failures, they did have some partial success when they shifted focus to reanimate lifeless matter. As the nanites infused themselves into inanimate objects and deceased organisms, they began to perform miraculous feats that transcended human comprehension.

  “We don’t have a lot of info about the next period. Apparently, the research goal shifted – or sidestepped - from internal life to super soldiers, and a lot of... immoral research followed. They created zombies when experimenting on recently diseased bodies, and skeletons when experimenting on older bodies. We don’t know how they created vampires. There are speculations, but... Well, nothing confirmed.”

  Nathan scratched his chin while considering the information. “But why are they attacking people?” he asked. “What are their goals? Their mission?”

  “We don’t know,” Kent sighed. “Our discoveries confirm that there is some sort of rudimentary artificial intelligence which guides the nanites, and while we have plenty of specimens, how and why they function is outside our technical capabilities to discover. It might be that they have been tasked to find more test samples, or it could be that they have a mission to defend and secure certain areas. It might be both or neither, as not all undead act the same.

  “Regardless of whether we are right or wrong, when it comes down to it, the undead source and motivation changes nothing. In this area, they have been passively defending what we believe to be a major research lab, but recently they have multiplied in numbers and are expanding drastically. While we are stopping them for now, our experience from other theaters is that when they have reached this activity level, they will not stop until they are put down for good. They are a blight on this land and will attack any living creature they come across, bolstering their numbers through the spreading of nanites.”

  Kent stopped. “Which brings me back to the start. The Iron Guard was founded to combat the undead menace, wherever they can be found. Like the undead, our numbers have diminished since the ages of yonder and the great War of the Bane, but while a single undead exists, our job is not done. While we don’t mind helping or supporting any local communities near our areas of operations if we can, the eradication of any undead creatures must take precedence – especially when they’re spreading.”

  “That sounds like a worthy cause to me,” Nathan said, prompting a nod from Kent. Sensing a potential quest, Nathan continued. “While I understand that you don’t have the capacity to help now, what would it take to change that? Is there any way I could help you help me, so to speak?”

  “You wish to join the Iron Guard?”

  “Well...” Nathan hesitated, “Not permanently, but perhaps for a little while? I believe I can help you here for a day or two before I return to the valley. But after the goblins have been stopped, I can return and assist even more. I might even be able to spread the word about your plight, entice some of my fellow adventurers to join me.”

  “Hmm.” Kent started to pace again. After a moment of contemplation, he started to speak quietly, almost as if he was talking to himself and not Nathan. “While it hasn't been needed in my time in the Guard, historically we have not been above hiring soldiers of fortune to fight on our behalf or collaborate with local militias and such when needed. Perhaps this is such a time of need? And perhaps it is worthwhile to trade the strength of a unit now for potential future gain? There has been an influx of adventurers in the surrounding areas, after all, so why not take advantage of that?”

  He stopped and looked closer at Nathan. “What we need is-”

  Kent turned around and started to search the shelves. “It should be here somewhere,” he muttered while searching. “Ah, here it is”. He pulled out a small flat wooden box and blew away the thick layer of dust on top of it. After putting the box down on his desk, he rummaged around in it before pulling out something small.

  “Your suggestion has merit, but I cannot bring this to the Commander before you have proven yourself a friend of the Guard. While you strike me as a trustworthy man, some things need to be supported by actions. As such, I charge you to go out and fight the undead on our behalf. All members of The Iron Guard proudly carry our emblem – an iron skull – on their chest.” The Chief Clerk pointed to his own chest, where he had an iron skull with a sword sticking out at the top, crisscrossed by two spears. It was not unlike the traditional pirate symbol, only with spears instead of bones. “While hired hands are not required to use the emblem at all times, they are required to carry it while doing work on our behalf.”

  He presented Nathan with a wooden badge depicting a skull. This one without any weapons. “Here, take this, and wear it while fighting the undead. Should you be successful in blunting their excursion – even temporary – I will take that as proof that you are a man to be trusted, and back your proposition with the Commander. Is that acceptable?”

  [New Quest] Till death do us part

  Chief Clerk Kent has asked you to battle the undead on behalf of The Iron Guard to show your commitment to their cause.

  Skeletons killed: 0/?

  Zombies killed: 0/?

  Reward: XP, reputation with The Iron Guard (rewards may vary based on quest outcome)

  “It is.”