The few survivors who fled the ravaged settlement of Oakhaven carried tales that chilled the very blood of those who heard them. Their words, stammered and broken by terror, spoke of silent, skeletal figures wreathed in black mist, creatures that drained life with a touch and were impervious to silver. The mournful wails they described echoed in the minds of the listeners, a chilling premonition of a new and terrifying kind of death.
These were the messengers of fear, their desperate accounts spreading like wildfire through the borderlands of Vaelorin and beyond. The initial reaction was one of disbelief, quickly followed by a gnawing dread. How could such creatures exist? What dark magic had birthed them? And if silver, the bane of Lycans, could not stop them, what hope did they have?
In the Winter Citadel of Vaelorin, King Theron Vaelorin received the news with grim disbelief. The reports from his border patrols corroborated the survivors' frantic tales, describing a creeping blight emanating from Morrathiel and these horrifying entities that moved with unnatural silence and exuded an aura of death. The Silver King, a ruler known for his wisdom and composure, felt a cold dread grip his heart. He immediately dispatched riders to the other six kingdoms, carrying urgent missives detailing the horrifying new threat.
Lord Vorlag Ironclaw of Draventhall received the news with a characteristic snarl. He dismissed the initial reports as the panicked ramblings of frightened villagers. "Skeletons and mist?" he scoffed to his war council. "Superstition and fearmongering! We will meet any threat with steel and fire!" However, as more credible accounts arrived, detailing the creatures' immunity to silver and their life-draining touch, a flicker of concern crossed his hardened features. He immediately ordered his master smiths to cease all other work and focus on developing new weapons and defenses, though what could pierce such ethereal foes remained a grim question.
Lady Seraphina of Solmorae received the messengers with an unreadable expression. Her veiled pronouncements became more frequent and more cryptic, speaking of an ancient darkness awakened and a balance dangerously disrupted. She retreated deeper into the Moonstone Grove with her elder mystics, engaging in prolonged rituals under the pale moonlight, seeking answers in the whispers of the forest spirits and the patterns of lunar energy. She sent a small delegation to the other kingdoms, bearing not weapons or armies, but carefully collected herbs and arcane artifacts, along with vague warnings about the nature of this new enemy.
Queen Maelis of Tir Vareth reacted with deep sorrow and alarm. The descriptions of the blighted lands of Morrathiel resonated with her profound connection to the natural world. The idea of creatures born from death and decay was anathema to her life-affirming magic. She immediately dispatched her healers and her most skilled trackers towards the Vaelorin border, hoping to understand the nature of the blight and to find any way to counteract the life-draining effects of the Skarnwraiths. Her heart ached for Selene and for the suffering of Morrathiel, a kingdom once so vibrant now consumed by darkness.
Warden Kyros of Nytheris, upon receiving the news, turned his gaze to the heavens with a renewed urgency. His astronomers worked tirelessly, charting the constellations and searching for omens in the cosmic patterns. He spoke of a celestial imbalance, a dark conjunction that might have heralded this unholy creation. He sent messengers to the other kingdoms bearing star charts and cryptic interpretations, suggesting that the answer to this terrestrial threat might lie in understanding the celestial forces that governed their world. His detached demeanor, however, offered little comfort to the other monarchs grappling with immediate terror.
Lord Kaelen Bloodhowl of Ulvaren met the news with a furious roar. The idea of an enemy that could not be fought with strength and steel enraged him. He immediately gathered his fiercest warriors, their axes sharpened and their primal instincts on high alert. He declared that Ulvaren would meet this threat head-on, their ferocity undeterred by the seemingly supernatural nature of the foe. He sent word to Vaelorin, offering the strength of his pack, eager for a fight, even against an enemy they did not yet understand.
The reactions of the seven monarchs were as varied as their kingdoms, a reflection of their unique strengths, beliefs, and fears. Theron sought wisdom and understanding, Vorlag sought a tangible solution in steel, Seraphina sought answers in the mystical, Maelis sought healing and balance, Kyros sought cosmic insight, and Kaelen sought a direct confrontation.
The messengers of fear had done their grim work. The news of the Skarnwraiths had shattered the fragile peace and forced the seven kingdoms to confront a terrifying new reality. The old rules of engagement no longer applied. Silver, their traditional defense, was useless. The darkness was spreading, and the Concord of Howling Blood stood on the precipice of a war unlike any they had ever known, against an enemy born from corruption and animated by an unholy power. The initial shock was giving way to a desperate scramble for answers, for defenses, and for a way to survive the encroaching night.