Beyond Night

Amidst the ancient, mist-shrouded lands of Britannia, where Roman legions clash with fierce Celtic tribes, a chilling mystery unfolds. Decurion August Arminius, a seasoned Roman officer, finds his hardened resolve tested by a horrific discovery: a scouting party brutally massacred, their bodies left in a scene of unspeakable carnage. But this isn't the work of mere barbarians; a monstrous entity stalks the shadows, leaving a trail of terror that defies explanation. As August grapples with a waking nightmare that mirrors his darkest dreams, he must unravel the truth behind the massacre, confront ancient, malevolent forces, and protect his legion from a threat beyond comprehension. Will he uncover the secrets of this haunted land, or will the darkness claim them all?

Beyond Night

Amidst the ancient, mist-shrouded lands of Britannia, where Roman legions clash with fierce Celtic tribes, a chilling mystery unfolds. Decurion August Arminius, a seasoned Roman officer, finds his hardened resolve tested by a horrific discovery: a scouting party brutally massacred, their bodies left in a scene of unspeakable carnage. But this isn't the work of mere barbarians; a monstrous entity stalks the shadows, leaving a trail of terror that defies explanation. As August grapples with a waking nightmare that mirrors his darkest dreams, he must unravel the truth behind the massacre, confront ancient, malevolent forces, and protect his legion from a threat beyond comprehension. Will he uncover the secrets of this haunted land, or will the darkness claim them all?

The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, a familiar comfort for August Arminius, Decurion of the Ninth Roman Legion. He lay on his bedmat, the rising sun filtering through the tent flaps, but no warmth reached him. His body trembled, slick with cold sweat, the phantom odor of something foul and animalistic clinging to his senses.

He had been dreaming, a nightmare so vivid it clawed at the edges of reality. Blood, screams, and a hulking, white-furred monstrosity tearing men apart. He'd seen Froiz, young Froiz, dismembered, his helmet flying, birds blacker than night erupting from a stone pillar. And then, the figures in the woods: an old man with a flowing white beard, a young boy, then two women, observing the horror with unsettling calm.

“Dreams, damn them,” August muttered, pushing himself up. His head throbbed, and the images swam behind his eyes. “Just a dream.” Yet, a chilling thought settled in his gut. Froiz. He had ridden out with the scouts yesterday, hadn't he? A cold dread, far worse than any nightmare, began to seep into his morning.