ASHES OF VALOR

The dawn hung low over the jagged peaks of the Korran Mountains, mist curling like fingers around ancient stone. From the cliffs above Horan's Edge, the first rays of light revealed smoke rising from the village below, dark and acrid against the fragile morning.
Jackson crouched atop a boulder, letting the wind tousle his longer hair, eyes glinting beneath the hood of his cloak. The smell of burning wood and charred straw filled his nostrils, and a thrill ran down his spine. "Finally," he muttered, knives twitching in his hands. "Someone who knows how to throw a party."
He wasn't joking. Flames licked the sky above the granary, villagers screaming and scattering in all directions. It wasn't a simple raid; it was a spectacle. A message.