Thick fog shrouded the shores of a nebulous sea. Below it, waves continued their eternal assault on the indifferent barrier of land, dreaming of washing it away. They rustled quietly, just like they had rustled for eons. Not far away, the water was louder — there, a wide river fell into the sea, a deep inlet created by its estuary.
Currently, there was a group of riders moving along the shore. Their steeds were Echoes of slain abominations; their enchanted armor was damp with morning dew. Their vermilion cloaks bore the insignia of Clan Valor.
They were Knights and Squires who had been left behind to protect the fringes of the Sword Domain, currently on patrol.
As they approached the estuary, the leader of the patrol — a seasoned Knight in heavy armor — raised a fist to command the rest to stop. He took a canteen off his belt, drank some water, and then listened to the murmur of waves.