Snow drifted down softly in the small hours of the morning, blanketing Tol Rane is a light cover of snow as the grey, lifeless clouds still pale in the morning light drifted over the mountains to unload their cargo on the seat of one of Tolnedra's more minor families. So extensive was this mountain range that it ran north, into Ulgoland, home of the cave dwelling worshipers of UL. Not much was know about this strange people, though since the crowning of King Belgarion of Riva, the secluded society had begun to emerge and mingle with the rest of the Western Kingdoms. As far as most Tolnedran's knew, Belgarion was not from any major family or dynasty like the prestigious Emperors of their fair lands; instead he came from a remote district in Sendaria where he used to wash dishes for a living, but that, however, was Alorn business. The only shame was this scullion boy took an Imperial Princess, and only daughter of Ran Borune XXIII, the late emperor of all Tolnedra, to wife. A Borune she may have been, but an Imperial Princess none the less.

To the east the mighty peaks stretched deep into Cthol Murgos, raising high above the Southern Caravan Route, a brief reprieve from the cold ice and stone of the range, which allowed trade between the east and the west, since the only other highway ran through Drasnia to Gar og Nadrak. This route to the Angarak kingdoms brought much wealth to Tolnedra, but unfortunately the Ranites saw very little of it. The latest and current Borune Dynasty, or perhaps now the Anadile Dynasty, had redirected Tolnedra's interests until it continently favoured Borune interests, undoing a lot of the obvious good done by previous Ranite rulers, and in particular Ran Rane II who manages to overcome what was to be known latter as the curse of the Ranites, more specifically no Ranite Emperor has lived past the age of twenty-five, while Ran Rane II made it to a staggering forty-two before the affliction claimed the flower of all Tolnedran Emperors.

Ran Rane II established extensive trade with the eastern kingdoms, despite the predictable tantrums of the Alorns, and these relations benefited the Ranites greatly. In fact one narrow minded Honeth remarked sourly, "You can't look anywhere anymore without seeing a Murgo", clearly without seeing the obvious benefits of this very profitable situation.

So it was a morning just like so many others before it, the sun rose on Tol Rane and a small stone house in the western districts. The house wasn't ornate and from the outside, it appeared to be quite plain and practical, rather than comfortable and luxurious. In all a few rooms with the essentials, and a small well groomed garden that showed signs of recent care. However there was a single wall tapestry in the sitting room, woven from Mallorean silk, which identified that the owner was also a member of the house of Rane.

Everywhere along the street merchants could be seen setting up their stalls for a frantic day of trading. Other more lazy, and therefore less profitable sons of Nedra were either just stirring or had pulled the covers up over their heads to block out the penetrating glare of dawn. The small house, however, was already empty, its beds were made and the breakfast dishes had already been cleaned. Its sole occupant had been up for hours and was already at the barracks of the 9th Imperial Legion, rousing his troops. The 9th Legion was one of the many legions based in Tol Rane, but this body was the personal troops of Grand Duke Palkin, head of the Ranite family, and so all of the Legion Commanders, Captains and Sargents were Ranites. The Grand Duke wanted to be able to depend on the loyalty of these troops; his life may well depend on it some day.

"Fall in, fall in or it'll be your heads that roll, not mine. You lot can be sure of that" bellowed Sargent Torin. Torin hated having to rouse the unit, and each morning became more like a chore for him. Torin didn't understand why they couldn't just get up in the morning. Once they got going, had something to eat and had gone through their weapons drills, they were a good bunch of soldiers, no commander could ask any more than what this unit gave everyday, they just seemed totally perplexed by the concept of putting one foot, closely followed by another, on the ground and getting up when the sun did. Torin shook his head in disbelief. He just didn't understand.

"All right, to the mess hall you ravenous dogs. I just hope Tolnedra didn't need you this morning, because I don't think Grand Duke Palkin will accept a note from your mothers." With that Torin span on his heels and walked away knowing that come tomorrow morning, he would have to go through all of this again.

"Besides" he thought to himself as he crossed the grounds towards the administration complex, "it's about time I reported to my Captain".

Captain Andorias "Falco" was a slightly taller man than Torin, but not as bulky and his face was pock marked and long. He earned his nickname Falco because of his hooked beak of a nose.

"All in all a face only a mother could love" remarked Torin to himself as he came into the presence of his commander. Torin never stopped being shocked by Falco's appearance, and every time he caught himself thinking that it really wasn't that bad, these early morning procedures were a constant reminder that it really was that bad. Falco was, after all, very ugly. A good person, and excellent soldier and a loyal friend, but still very, very ugly.

"Maybe that's why he joined the legions" Torin mused, not being able to think of any jobs Falco could have been assigned by his cousin, twice removed, the Grand Duke. All members of the Ranite family got positions in Ranite administration, and should Grand Duke Palkin, or any of his successors claim the throne it would be a great day for Ranites everywhere. A weary look swept over Falco's face when Torin entered.

"Still not getting enough sleep my friend?" Torin enquired sympathetically.

"I think running over the border to Maragor and going completely insane would be preferable to showing up here every morning. Pity the ghosts left eh?"

"I don't think they left. The monks at Mar Terrin still insist the ghosts still wander, they just don't attack us unless directed to by Mara." corrected Torin.

"How can a man command ghosts? Stupid theory if you ask me." Falco countered.

"He claims to be a God, the lost God of the Marags, and now that the Marags have reappeared this man claims to be their God."

"You don't honestly believe that do you? Falco asked, shocked at the suggestion.

"Maybe. I don't know, sometimes I think that we Tolnedra can be too skeptical at time. I mean we believe in Nedra, and that he plays a role in our life and society."

"But that's different" Falco floundered.

"Oh, oh that's different. Why didn't you say so?" Torin smirked with a twinkle in his eye. Torin had been laughing at the older Falco for years, since Torin was a cheeky five-year-old and Falco an already mature seventeen. Torin recalled one morning in the snow when Falco in an irrepressible burst of adolescence and a desire to impress the local beauty queen of their neighborhood, drove his sled right into a snow drift, in an attempt to vault over it. The truly funny thing, and whenever Torin though of his friend's embarrassing childhood folly, he still laughed a little, was that the snow drift was actually a large rock that had been covered in the previous night's snow fall. There was broken pride, body and sled everywhere.

"I just did. Did you notice? I thought I noticed you noticing" Falco replied, returning the infectious twinkle, unaware that Torin's mind had wandered off. It was only when Torin burst out laughing that Falco gave him a reproachful glare and turned the conversation to more important maters. Falco cleared his throat "Hmmmmm."

"You were saying Commander" Torin said, choking down his obvious pleasure in his own cleverness or perhaps his own foolishness.

"Yes well it is a damn pity that for what ever reason …" Falco looked at Torin's amused expression. "…for what ever reason the ghosts aren't driving people insane anymore, because now we have a problem. Yesterday we got word from the Imperial Palace in Tol Honeth that treasure hunters have figured out that it is safe to return to Maragor and all that free gold that originally led the problem in the first place. Damn Vorduvians."

Falco was referring to the most terrible example of greed over coming sensible thinking in the history of the world. In 2115 Ran Vordue I bowed under pressure from his countrymen to invade and put to the sword all Marags, exterminating the race bar a few thousand sold to Nyissian slavers. Forever Tolnedrans everywhere remember with regret their national folly. A monastry was established at Mar Terrin to comfort the spirits of the fallen Marags, denied the eternal slumber by the nature of their cruel deaths and Mara's grief. However now that the Marags have been restored to Mara, the ghosts no longer sought to revenge themselves upon the living that foolishly violated their border.

"So now foolhardy adventurers are heading for those gold filled stream beds in droves, completely forgetting the lessons hard learnt by our forefathers."

"Those idiots" exclaimed Torin. Torin did not suffer fools gladly, and like most battle hardened Sargents, Torin being a veteran of Thull Mardu, could not abide any form of idiocy.

"And if that wasn't bad enough a professional bandit from the north has set up camp near the center of Maragor, where most of the gold is, and is controlling the area like a warlord state. The Ulgo in charge of the fledgling Marags…"

"Relg I think his name is sir" inserted Torin. Falco and Torin had an efficient relationship where Falco outranked Torin by technicality only.

"Whatever, I don't care. This Ulgo, fine Relg" snapped Falco seeing Torin about to interject again "has lodged a complaint with King Belgarion, so Belgarion came to Tol Honeth personally and now his royal Andile-ness has decided that we were to blaim, being the closest city to Maragor, and if we don't clear it up, Belgarion might pay us a visit personally."

Torin shuddered when he thought of King Belgarion, Overlord of the West and Slayer of Kal Torak God and King of the Angaraks, angry with him; his flaming sword drawn. Of course Torin was skeptical of Belgarion's powers, and even of Kal Torak's existence, but after witnessing some of the strange phenomena at Thull Mardu, he couldn't be sure what he believed.

"So what are we going to do about it?" he asked, although Falco's face clearly betrayed his lack of orders.

"Grand Duke Palkin has decided to dispatch the 9th Legion to deal with the situation, but apart from that…" Falco shrugged and spread his hands with a wry look on his face.

"The Legion Commander not being very forth coming with details is he?" sympathized Torin. Torin was quite convinced that if he had to deal with that popinjay pretending to be a real man on a regular basis he would have gone mad, ghosts or no ghosts. Commander Septon rarely wore armour, preferring to dress in his foppish mantle, flogging his position as the Grand Duke's brother in front of any fool that would lap it up. Unfortunately his position in the family would allow him no lower rank. The real orders came from his adviser Mortin. However Mortin was a Borune. Torin had as much respect for the Borunes as any Tolnedran could have for another family, but he thought it pathetic that the military pride of the Ranites couldn't be commanded by a competent Ranite General. "Falco could do a good job", mused Torin, but the man didn't handle stress well and he was too far removed from the Grand Duke to gain such a sought after position.

"Yes I have a meeting of the general staff later today. Septon, the other Captains and various other officials, so on and so forth. I should know more after that."

"Sounds very interesting" replied Torin sarcastically, as he lent against the wall fingering his dagger.

"Doesn't it? Would you like to come?"

"Oh I'm sorry sir, I'd love to but I'm busy drilling the men this afternoon." Torin always enjoyed these little games with Falco, mainly because he won most of the time, and the grin on his face displayed his mirth openly. Falco's face too began to smile.

"That's alright soldier. I'll dispatch someone to assume your duties temporarily."

"But this meeting is for the general staff only sir, of which I am not apart." Torin thought he had his old friend here and he watched intently for the signs of frustration, which should be arriving any second now, to appear on his friends face.

"It's overlookable this time Torin. My clerk isn't well today, so you can scribe for me"

"You wouldn't"

"Try me"

"Please?" in a last ditch effort, Torin wheedled with his friend, desperate not to sit through a very long and boring meeting.

"That's an order Sargent" Falco gloated trying to conceal his obvious glee at finally defeating his opponent.

"Now that's cheating!" Torin exclaimed.

"What? Cheating? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about friend" Falco said with an overdose of feigned innocence. Falco wasn't a very talented actor; by he enjoyed these little games almost as much as Torin did. He would probably enjoy them even more if he won more often.

"You are dismissed" Falco said, and with that he immersed himself in some paper work, only lifting his eyes once to stare with satisfaction at Torin's retreating back, grumbling loudly as he left Falco's office