Beyond the Silent Court, the Serpent heartland stretched into rugged highlands where cold winds hissed through narrow defiles. Here, isolated fortresses perched on crags, accessible only by rope bridges and narrow ledges. Within these strongholds lived elite Serpent factions—specialized units who trained in extreme isolation, perfecting skills to outmatch any foe in chosen terrain.
One such fortress, nicknamed the Serpent's Crown, housed a cadre of infiltrators who could climb sheer cliffs under moonless skies, their fingers finding purchase in microscopic cracks. They practiced an art of silent killing, using needle-thin blades and garrotes. Rumor said they could vanish into the rocks themselves. These were the Serpents' answer to the Ember Circle's Wings—more ruthless, less bound by conscience, willing to sacrifice pawns to achieve a mission.
In a valley below, a hidden village produced potent narcotics and hallucinogens. The Serpents used these substances strategically, bribing or addicting influential figures to gain leverage. Some mercenary bands operating outside both factions' territories survived only because they had a steady pipeline of Serpent-provided stimulants. In return, those mercenaries might occasionally ambush a lone Ember patrol, claiming it as a bandit incident rather than a Serpent plot.
Allies in these highlands included grim-faced clans that valued strength and cunning above morality. They might share ancestors with the Serpents, old blood pacts sealed generations ago. These clans lacked the refined culture of the Ember Circle's allies, thriving instead on harsh traditions—trial by combat, raiding weaker neighbors, and respecting only those who proved formidable. To them, the Serpents offered a stable arrangement: loyalty in exchange for protection, smuggled goods, and occasionally letting these clans settle old feuds with minimal interference.
Enemies also lurked here. A band of rebel fighters—descendants of those who once tried to break free from Serpent influence—hid in remote caves. Over the years, they launched sporadic attacks on Serpent supply lines, freeing captives and scattering contraband. Though not a major threat, they represented a thorn in the Serpents' side, a reminder that even within their territory, some spirits refused to be tamed.
To maintain order, the Serpents employed a rotation system: captains spent only a few months in any stronghold before reassignment, preventing them from forming independent power bases or growing too comfortable. Resources were distributed irregularly, forcing every operative, clan, and ally to depend on the central council's goodwill. This ensured that no part of the Serpent network could easily rebel or defect.
Here, in the highlands, the Serpents' strength lay in their adaptability. They balanced multiple threats and alliances, maintained a system that rewarded cunning and punished weakness. While the Ember Circle honed noble martial arts and built trust, the Serpents honed a blade of shifting loyalties and silent terror. Equal footing with the Circle meant they must always be ready to tip the scales with one calculated strike