The Edge of the Sword
It is two weeks since the caravan you are on departed from Fort Zombie, and you are each experiencing a growing sense of detachment from reality. As your new life approaches, you find that whatever feelings you expected to have about your decision have been overwhelmed by an immense curiosity as to what your life will truly be like, and whether it will be anything like the stories. The silence of the last few weeks has only been broken by the occasional chatter of your armed escort. None of the passengers has spoken much during the trip, and over the two weeks you’ve all adjusted to the consistent jolting of the wagons. The scenery has become far more barren since you left Deadwind Pass, and the echoing canyon has fallen off sharply to the south, to be replaced with a view of a vast and empty savannah. As the caravan rounds an outcropping, a distant view of an ominous shape on the horizon suddenly becomes visible and your detachment is suddenly replaced by an immutable sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. Fort Bones, the sinister fortress charged with the defence of the Southern Border of Karrnath, and your new home for a year and a day, lies ahead. It is nightfall as you draw near to the western wall of the Fort, the light breeze seems to blow right through you, and seven of Eberrons twelve moons are in the sky, illuminating the landscape. The caravan driver signals to the gate guard, and the enormous dark wooden gates open as you approach, hinges screeching in protest. As your caravan enters the fort, moonlight reveals words cast in black iron above the archway reading “Welcome to the edge of the sword.” The gates are closed behind you, and the bracing pin falls into place with an echoing ring of finality.