The setting sun cast long shadows across the central plaza of Ashguard. The golden light filtered through the massive branches of the Genesis Tree and washed over ten thousand soldiers standing in rigid formation. Tomorrow at noon the protective barrier would fall.
The massive wooden wheels of a transport wagon ground against the stone tiles of the plaza. Balthazar steered the heavy cart toward the base of the glowing tree. The master blacksmith was covered in dark soot and dried sweat. His thick muscular arms strained as he pulled the heavy leather reigns to halt the draft horses. He parked the wagon near the raised stone platform where Captain Alden was organizing the infantry blocks.
Balthazar kicked the iron release latch on the back of the wagon. Dozens of heavy wooden crates slid o
