Book Three: Avatar of War - Chapter One: The Spoils of Hate
The Plane of Hate was no place to linger. Even after the fighting stopped, Caradawc felt its malice pressing against him—the air thick with the residue of the creatures they had killed and the dark power that soaked every stone of Innoruuk’s realm. But the Frostraiders were alive. That was what mattered. They had not come to conquer. They had come for armour and equipment, and they had taken it. Pebbles moved among the piles, sharp and practical. “Gather what we can. We need better armour if we’re going to progress the way the officers planned.” No one argued. Progression was never one glorious battle. It was piece by piece, raid by raid. The Rune Etched armour began to appear. Caradawc lifted a breastplate and turned it in his hands. The craftsmanship was exquisite—runes etched with precision, plates shaped as if the metal itself had been persuaded into form. He had worn good armour before. This was different. When the full set was assembled and fitted him perfectly, he ...
