The iden order

The king summoned a royal crow and fastened a scroll to its leg a message bound for the true rulers of the Bandit Mountains: the infamous mountain clans. These were no ordinary thugs. Atop the jagged peaks lay a fortress carved from stone and sin, a place untouched by law and drowned in secrecy. It was a haven for outlaws, assassins, slave traders, and mercenaries men and women who lived by blood and gold.

The mountain bandits were more organized than any royal army would admit. Their operations stretched through black markets and backdoor dealings, their hands in everything from smuggling to contract killings. But their greatest trick? Hiding in plain sight. They wore the Church's face like a mask pious robes, fake sermons, false altars. It was the perfect cover. Nobles and kings alike turned a blind eye, accepting holy appearances in exchange for unholy services.

These bandits sold slaves directly to powerful figures lords, bishops, and even royal officials those too proud to dirty their own hands. Any slave who escaped and tried to return to the mountain? Executed without question. Mercy had no place in their code.

Only days ago, their raiders had crossed into elven lands, rounding up those with pointed ears and silken hair. The elven tribes had barely recovered when another order came: capture the dwarfs next.

But this message carried more than just marching orders.

A second letter arrived, sealed with the king's crimson wax, the emblem pressed deep into its surface.

Lead the knights to the goddess.

Far from the mountain peak, deep in the shelter of a hidden cave, Alex and Ashley lay in an exhausted sleep. They had fled death, escaped a kingdom in flames, and battled through darkness to find this fragile moment of peace. It was the kind of sleep that came only after total collapse the body surrendering before the mind could catch up.

Around them, the cave breathed in slow silence. The air was cool and damp, carrying the scent of moss and earth. But it was more than a hiding place it was a sanctuary.

Outside, two trolls stood vigil at the cave's mouthbmassive creatures hunched like ancient statues, their rough skin dappled with moonlight. They didn't speak. They didn't move. They simply watched.

Until one of them twitched.

A low growl rumbled in his throat. He lifted his head and sniffed the wind.

"Did you feel that?" he asked, voice like gravel.

His companion turned slowly. "Yes. The wind is wrong."

"The goddess" The first troll's eyes narrowed. "She's in danger again."

The other troll looked toward the distant horizon, where shadows moved unnaturally in the night.

"Should we run?" he asked.

"No," the first troll answered, resolute. "We don't run. We protect."

"Then what do we do?"

"We take her. And the human. We leave this place. Find somewhere deeper, safer."

A heavy silence passed between them as they looked toward the cave, where the goddess and her companion lay unaware of the danger approaching.

They were monsters by name and appearance but in that moment, they showed something few humans ever did: unwavering loyalty.

Even creatures of stone and claw could recognize when something sacred was worth protecting.