I have been observing the anomalies at Brandrgarde for some time now, and I firmly believe they warrant an investigation. Feiss's arrival has given me the confidence I needed.
We initially planned to travel with Gyldhunters, but they only appear when Gyldenmist gathers—when the Corroded are most active and Gyldenblod flows free. That is far beyond the risk Feiss and I are willing to take. We kept watch over the bug jar, waiting until the signal insects went completely still before daring to approach the fortress. With enough caution, we shouldn't disturb any Corroded that Feiss can't handle.
Despite having rehearsed this scene countless times in my head, I couldn't help but vomit the moment I entered the fortress. Bodies scattered everywhere, some mutilated beyond recognition. Dark, thick blood pooled across the ground, and every step felt sickeningly sticky. Not a trace of life remained, yet I could hear whispered ravings from behind the trembling doors. I quickly motioned for Feiss to avoid them—we both knew what lurked beyond.
Brandrgarde was once the first line of defense against abyssal monsters in the Northern Realms. For a warrior, there is no higher honor than to serve and fight on this battlefield. In my youth, I came here with my kinsman brother, though neither of us was chosen by that Wulfen general. We could only stand aside as we watched new recruits take their oath on the Blue Bridge before we returned home. For some reason, upon seeing these sights again, that general's voice began to echo in my ears—his speech about valuing honor above life.
No, those were no mere memories. Because Feiss heard them too. As we ventured deeper into the fortress, the general's commands grew clearer, echoing through the empty hallways as if we were walking into an ambush. Every corner we turned filled us with dread.
While Feiss and I disagreed on how we should proceed from there, we unanimously agreed to avoid this area cursed with the general's voice.
Apart from what happened in the fortress, something else troubles me. Feiss found silver scales beneath the Blue Bridge. They were hard as steel, with razor-sharp edges and spiral patterns on the inner surface, exactly like freshly molted Lizardfolk scales. The claw marks in the dirt further confirmed my suspicions. Why would silver-scaled Lizardfolk from the Slumbering Scales be here? Certainly not to connect with their black-scaled kin from the abyss. No, they'd never. Could the fortress's fall be connected to the Slumbering Scales too? Was it not just the Gyldenmist outbreak? What are they planning among these ruins?
The Gyldening does not affect the Lizardfolk as much as it does us, who have our souls intact. We are at an absolute disadvantage here. Our chances of making it out in one piece are... sub-optimal. We may have been gifted with the ability to resurrect, but that does not spare us the agony of dying. Nonetheless, Feiss and I both agreed that the risk is worth taking. We shall keep following the Lizardfolk's trail. If the Slumbering Scales truly conspire, we must gather more intelligence before this life reaches its end.