A/N Hey, I've been wanting to do this for a while, after reading the "Reading the books" done by Dorano1 and TheRanger'sDaughter. I've read both of these numerous times so I apologise if some of the parts of the first two books are very similar to theirs. I got the texts from as I wasn't wanting to type out the entire books, which I'd tried to do but was taking too long. I've noticed that some versions of the book are slightly different, so if there is a part of one of the books which is missing, feel free to message/review and I'll add it in. i have read the whole series including the Early Years series (although I haven't read them as many times as the rest so there may be some mistakes), so there will most likely be references to them, but I haven't read Brotherband yet. If you have an idea for a character's reaction let me know and I'll credit you in the chapter if I include it (P.S. Sorry if it's very bad at the start, i'm not too sure on how i should start it) (P.S.S. I'm horrible with grammar and spelling, I've proofread, but if I miss anything, just let me know and I'll change it, in addition I'm using a chromebook where the I's are often not automatically capitalized so if I miss any, just let me know.) Sorry for the long Author's Note, I won't usually add them.

Prologue

Sat in Baron Arald's office in Castle Redmont, some of the most well known people in the Kingdom of Araluen had been gathered to read a series of books which had been left by an unknown visitor. Since there wasn't any immediate problems in the Kingdom to be dealt with at the moment, they had all agreed to read them. In addition, Oberjarl Erak was visiting from Skandia, so they had decided to invite him into the gathering. Sat around the table in a semicircle, in order, were George, Jenny, Gilan, Crowley, Pauline, Halt, Will, Alyss, Horace, Cassandra, Duncan, Sandra, Arald, Rodney and Erak. They all looked at the first book curiously, called Ruins of Gorlan. King Duncan was the first to speak, "Shall we start them?" he asked the group, and everyone else nodded in agreement. He looked towards George inquiringly, and requested "Would you mind starting? Then we could go around the table."

George looked at the King in surprise, unused to the King addressing him directly. "O-of course, Your Majesty."

"No need for formality, George. Just call me Duncan."

"V-Very well… Duncan." and with that, George began reading...

Prologue

Morgarath,

At the name, all the Araluens in the room froze, remembering the now-dead traitor, while Erak looked down at the table, guilt on his face (an expression not usually seen on a Skandian). At the same time, a sudden darkness fell down over the room.

the Lord of the Mountains of Rain and Night, former Baron of Gorlan in the Kingdom of Araluen, looked out over his bleak, rainswept domain and, for perhaps the thousandth time, cursed.

"His fault!" Crowley interjected, with obvious venom and a deep scowl on his face. At the other side of Lady Pauline, Halt had a similar expression. Both of them remembered how Morgarath had attacked their outnumbered mentor and killed him while fleeing from Castle Gorlan during the first war.

This was all that was left to him now - a jumble of rugged granite cliffs, tumbled boulders and icy mountains. Of sheer gorges and steep narrow passes. Of gravel and rock, with never a tree or a sign of green to break the monotony.

Gilan, noticing his old mentor's expression, tried to lighten the mood by adding "And now he doesn't even have that!" which gained a few grins from around the room.

Even though it had been fifteen years since he had been driven back into this forbidding realm that had become his prison, he could still remember the pleasant green glades and thickly forested hills of his former fief. The streams filled with fish and the fields rich with crops and game. Gorlan had been a beautiful, living place.

"It wasn't like that the last time I was there" Will commented, gaining a few more grins and chuckles.

The Mountains of Rain and Night were dead and desolate. A platoon of Wargals

Cassandra and Will exchanged a worried glance, while Horace put a reassuring arm around his wife's shoulders. Meanwhile Alyss reached out a hand to Will which Will grasped gratefully.

was drilling in the castle yard below him. Morgarath watched them for a few seconds, listening to the guttural, rhythmic chant that accompanied all their movements. They were stocky, misshapen beings, with features that were halfway human, but with a long, brutish muzzle and fangs like a bear or a large dog. Avoiding all contact with humans, the Wargals had lived and bred in these remote mountains since ancient times.

Sir Rodney sighed, muttering under his breath "Why couldn't it have stayed that way?" and Baran Arold glanced at him, before nodding in agreement.

No one in living memory had ever set eyes upon one, but rumors and legends had persisted of a savage tribe of semi-intelligent beasts in the mountains.

"I really wouldn't call them intelligent." Erak thought aloud, and most of the group agreed with.

Morgarath, planning a revolt against the Kingdom of Araluen, had left Gorlan Fief to seek them out. If such creatures existed, they would give him an edge in the war that was to come. It took him months, but he eventually found them. Aside from their wordless chant, Wargals had no spoken language, relying on a primitive form of thought awareness for communication. But their minds were simple and their intellects basic. As a result, they had been totally susceptible to domination by a superior intelligence and willpower.

At the last few words, Halt started coughing. He may have been just clearing his throat, but it suspiciously sounded like "arrogant b-". Lady Pauline gave no indication that she had stopped him finishing that statement by kicking him in the calf. She gave him that look she always gave when he swore in front of his ex-apprentices.

Morgarath bent them to his will and they became the perfect army for him-ugly beyond nightmares, utterly pitiless and bound totally to his mental orders. Now, looking at them, he remembered the brightly dressed knights in glittering armor who used to compete in tourneys at Castle Gorlan, their silkgowned ladies cheering them on and applauding their skills.

Horace scoffed and shook his head. Will glanced at him, and hiding a grin casually mentioned "Isn't that exactly what you thought being a knight would be like?" Horace looked at his friend suddenly, then at Cassandra when she dug his elbow into his ribs. She mock-glared at him, but seeing his wounded expression, she relented, letting a smile break through.

Mentally comparing them to these black-furred, misshapen creatures, he cursed again. The Wargals, attuned to his thoughts, sensed his disturbance and stirred uncomfortably, pausing in what they were doing.

"So plan B could have been to annoy Morgarath enough to distract him from giving his mental orders." Gilan butted in.

Angrily, he directed them back to their drill and the chanting resumed. Morgarath moved away from the unglazed window, closer to the fire that seemed utterly incapable of dispelling the damp and chill from this gloomy castle.

Halt frowned at that description, remembering his childhood at Dun Kilty Castle where winters were always drafty and damp.

Fifteen years, he thought to himself again. Fifteen years since he had rebelled against the newly crowned King Duncan, a youth in his twenties. He had planned it all carefully as the old king's sickness progressed, banking on the indecision and confusion that would follow his death to split the other barons and give Morgarath his opportunity to seize the throne.

"You have to admit," Baron Arald sadly acknowledged, "it was a very clever plan."

Secretly, he had trained his army of Wargals, massing them up here in the mountains, ready for the moment to strike. Then, in the days of confusion and grief following the king's death, when the barons traveled to Castle Araluen for the funeral rites, leaving their armies leaderless, he had attacked, overrunning the southeastern quarter of the kingdom in a matter of days, routing the confused, leaderless forces that tried to oppose him. Duncan, young and inexperienced,

Cassandra frowned at the description of her father.

could never have stood against him. The kingdom was his for the taking. The throne was his for the asking.

"Not if I had anything to say to it." Crowley interjected.

Then Lord Northolt, the old king's supreme army commander, had rallied some of the younger barons into a loyal confederation, giving strength to Duncan's resolve and stiffening the wavering courage of the others.

There was a heavy sigh that came from where King Duncan sat. "Lord Northolt was a good man." "He's desperately missed." Sir Rodney added.

The armies had met at Hackham Heath, close by the Slipsunder River, and the battle swayed in the balance for five hours, with attack and counterattack and massive loss of life. The Slipsunder was a shallow river, but its treacherous reaches of quicksand and soft mud had formed an impassable barrier, protecting Morgarath's right flank. But then one of those gray-cloaked meddlers

"Hey!" Will and Gilan protested. "We're not meddlers!" Will added. "Actually," Gilan opposed with a grin, "We do meddle in stuff a lot."

known as Rangers led a force of heavy cavalry across a secret ford ten kilometers upstream. The armored horsemen appeared at the crucial moment of the battle and fell upon the rear of Morgarath's army.

Everyone looked at Halt, who began to hide his face in the cowl of his cloak.

The Wargals, trained in the tumbled rocks of the mountains, had one weakness. They feared horses and could never stand against such a surprise cavalry attack. They broke, retreating to the narrow confines of Three Step Pass, and back to the Mountains of Rain and Night. Morgarath, his rebellion defeated, went with them. And here he had been exiled these fifteen years. Waiting, plotting, hating the men who had done this to him.

"He could have just surrendered. It would a lot of lives and time." Rodney complained, remembering how many casualties Morgarath caused. Halt agreed, guiltily thinking about Daniel, Will's father, who had died saving his life.

Now, he thought, it was time for his revenge. His spies told him the kingdom had grown slack and complacent and his presence here was all but forgotten.

"Us Rangers didn't grow slack!" Crowley said, slightly offended that his Ranger Corps had been underestimated.

The name Morgarath was a name of legend nowadays, a name mothers used to hush fractious children, threatening that if they did not behave, the black lord Morgarath would come for them.

King Duncan frowned at the attitude most of his people had towards this highly dangerous, traitorous enemy.

The time was ripe. Once again, he would lead his Wargals into an attack. But this time he would have allies. And this time he would sow the ground with uncertainty and confusion beforehand. This time none of those who conspired against him previously would be left alive to aid King Duncan.

Everyone in the room held their breath and the room became silent. Crowley glanced, concerned, at his friend, seeing Halt staring absently at the table. Under said table, Lady Pauline reached out a hand to clutch at Halts. The purpose was both to offer comfort her husband, to which Halt was grateful, and to reassure herself that Morgarath's plan hadn't succeeded.

For the Wargals were not the only ancient, terrifying creatures he had found in these somber mountains. He had two other allies, even more fearsome-the dreadful beasts known as the Kalkara.

Sir Rodney flinched violently at the name of the terrifying creatures, remembering their paralyzing gaze.

The time was ripe to unleash them.

George finished the chapter, and passed the book to Jenny, who was sat to his left.