The Last Light (The Wandering Inn, #5)

by Pirateaba

Izril had only one war. That of the Drakes and the Humans. Oh, and the Gnolls of course. The tribes were always an issue. And the Antinium, damn them! And if it came to that, the Goblins were a threat. But to Drakes, the threat had always been Humans. Always. They had landed on their shores millennia ago, and Drakes never forgave the land they had ceded to the Humans. Never. Terandria had politics. Rhir struggled for survival. But Drakes had a foe. Those damn Humans. It was more of a bad rivalry now, true, as neither side did more than send armies to the Blood Fields each year to kill each other. But give them half a chance and the Drakes would happily invade the north, while the Humans would do the same. That was why Drakes were ready for battle. And in Liscor, the council—a group of individuals who represented different facets of the city from the Captain of the Watch to the [Strategist] that was required by law to be present in case of emergencies—knew what to do. Or rather, they knew what they were supposed to do.

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