The eastern frontier of Mournvale was unlike any other place in the kingdom.
Its mountains stood like ancient guardians, their jagged peaks crowned with snow that never seemed to melt. Watchtowers dotted the cliffs, connected by winding roads carved into the stone centuries ago. Every fortress carried scars of forgotten wars—broken battlements, weathered statues, and faded banners that whispered of victories history had nearly forgotten.
The royal expedition reached the largest of these strongholds shortly after sunrise.
Ironwatch Fortress.
Its towering walls overlooked the narrow mountain pass leading into Mournvale. Any invading army would have to pass beneath its shadow.
General Corvin dismounted first.
“This fortress has defended our eastern border for over four hundred years.”
