The village was surrounded by a wooden palisade that rose maybe fifteen feet high, the logs reinforced with crude but effective iron bands hammered into place.
The work looked fresh, some of the wood still showed pale, unweathered cuts where new sections had been added.
Watchtowers stood at intervals along the wall, their platforms barely high enough to see over the sparse treeline that marked the edge of Thornwood Forest in the distance. Smoke rose from chimneys within the walls, and the warm glow of lamplight flickered through windows, creating pockets of civilization against the gathering darkness.
But something felt off.
The usual sounds of evening village life, children playing their last games before dinner, merchants closing their shops and calling out final prices, neighbors gossiping across fences... these were completely absent.
