For the last several nights, Alamar had not slept well. It was not that something was wrong with his kingdom or with his people, or even with his guildmates as a whole. Everything was going well as planned and soon his guild would reap the benefits of the long ardurous work. The mastabas of IOM would be victoriuos once again.

Yet, something was wrong. Maybe it was the silent breeze, not making any sound, maybe it was the surface of the lake that did not show any sign of movement at all. Everything was too peaceful to be true. Alamar knew that feeling. It was the ominous feeling that something would happen soon. Something big...something important.

He had been preparing for the incoming war for weeks now. He had forgotten about the outside world and concentrated on his kingdom alone. Every single man, every resource was used to strengthen the kingdom for the hard days to come. Who would he fight against? He did not know yet. Nor did it matter. They were all heathens, all who did not follow the true Goddess Isonia, and they all deserved to die.

Yet, he knew he was surrounded by enemies from everywhere. He could not trust anyone. Every insignificant person, every beggar in the street, every crone could be an enemy spy. The blow could come from anyone at any time. His spies were working day and night, trying to find anything suspicious within the kingdom. His warriors were training hard. His sorcerors were preparing their spells in total concentration.

All of a sudden, someone rushed towards him, shouting his name, with a grim face.

Milord, several of our spies have been murdered last night. I fear that we are being scouted.

Double the posts. Make sure noone enters and leaves the city witout being thoroughly examined. We are at the brink of war. We cannot make any mistakes.

Already angry, Alamar rushed towards the strategy room, rethinking some plans in his head. The heathens would soon feel the wrath of Isonia and IOM, whoever they were.