The Last Garrison (Dungeons & Dragons Novel) - Plot & Excerpts
A sudden spring freeze? Nothing like it had happened before in the recorded history of the town. Council meetings were growing tense. “The trees to the west are dying, Crook of Haven. They wither. The leaves have fallen. The fruits are dying before they can bud.” An old farmer stood in the back and shouted to the council. “This cannot be natural. It is the work of magic.” Orick whispered in Londih’s ear, “He’s right. I have gone out to the forest to the south and have seen the creeping frost. It is not a trick of the seasons. This is something else.” Londih held his hand up, and Orick dutifully stepped back. “We are aware of the threat to our crops, my friends. And aware of the threat to our mountain and our village.” The council meeting stirred and whispered. The men wore long sleeves and heavy trousers; fall garb. They brought baskets of browned and damaged fruit, fallen too early and meager. “How will we feed the animals? We will not have a harvest. And we do not have enough in storage to lose a full season.”
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