In May, the Eagle Nest region should have been a scene of early summer abundance—lush grass and trees, herds of cattle and sheep stretching across the land.
Yet that year, the chill of the north seemed reluctant to fade. The air no longer carried the fragrance of fresh grass and earth, but the stench of rust, gunpowder, and fear.
Harald's carefully planned, if hastily assembled, three-pronged raiding force crossing the border was like three red-hot branding irons, searing themselves viciously into the seemingly rich yet poorly defended soft underbelly of the Goldflower Kingdom's northeast.
At the outset of the war, it was no different from the opening of countless Sauron invasions southward over the past several decades.
Those small forts and border defense outposts on the outskirts, long fallen into disrepair and thinly garrisoned, nearly collapsed at the first touch beneath the wild howls of the Sauron Cavalry and their dense rain of arrows, surrendering at the mere sight of the enemy.
The Sauron easily tore open the first line of defense in the Eagle Nest region. Iron hooves shattered the tranquility of early summer, and rolling clouds of dust swept toward the prosperous river valleys, villages, and towns.
Yet as the raiding pushed deeper, unusual resistance began to emerge. Not every castle chose to surrender without a fight.
Several medium-sized castles situated at vital crossroads, in dangerous terrain, or ruled by especially hardline lords, unexpectedly shut their gates, raised their drawbridges, and assumed a stance of defending to the death in the face of Sauron demands for surrender and threats.
Though the defenders on the walls were pale-faced, their bows, crossbows, and the few old Cannons they possessed still pointed at the enemy below.
This was a remarkably rare sight in past Sauron raids. Previously, whenever the Sauron army