Chapter 10: Salty’s Dirty Dozen
Chapter 10: Salty’s Dirty Dozen The sound of hooves thundered along the high cliffs of Dun Virell , a coastal ridge where salt met stone and seagulls scattered before the storm. The wind howled, blowing back Sir Salty’s silver cloak as he stood upon the battlements. Before him, twelve riders approached, their silhouettes fierce and feminine against the rising sun. He grinned, adjusting his battle axe. Reinforcements had arrived. Not just any reinforcements. Salty’s Dirty Dozen. Twelve warrior women, known in whispers and tavern songs across the Five Realms—not for their beauty alone, but for the death they dealt , the magic they wielded , and their undying loyalty to Salty . First to dismount was Isabella the Crossbolt , from the misty village of Sharpspire , high in the Cragglands. Her curves were hidden beneath a cloak of raven feathers and black leather, but her eyes—steel grey—missed nothing. With her enchanted crossbow, she could shoot the flame off a candle at a thous...