#set: finsterwacht directors cut

[drachenbanner]

AUF DER FINSTERWACHT - DIRECTOR'S CUT Ulrik looked around. There were even more companions who had escaped death, only to choose to rush towards it again. Golgari may have had mercy upon them, and had not yet carried them to the realm of the dead on black wings, but now, he mocked them. They had to cross the forest - enemy territory, a trap made of dense trees, treacherous undergrowth, and steep slopes, perfect for ambushes. Carefully watching the treacherous shadows, Ulrik and his companions moved towards the ruins where they sought to light the signal fire. Only the thought of the high flames that promised warning and protection for the borderland drove them forward. Hunger and pain were a distant memory that had to be forgotten. They quenched their thirst with the little water they had with them. The arrow struck Firl as suddenly as Rhodra's lightning, bringing an end to his luck and his dreams. His plans for a time after the orcs were snuffed out - peace, a small farmstead, all gone. Helpless, Ulrik could do nothing more than leave his brother in arms behind, sacrificing him in the one task that drove everyone forward: the signal fire.

[drachenbanner]

AUF DER FINSTERWACHT - DIRECTOR'S CUT Twenty-five were chosen, led by the warrior Bernward, to keep watch over the Witch's forest. There, fate struck them down, every one of them. No, not quite all of them. Ulrik was still alive. He dimly remembered screams, the arrows and the dying, the blow that erased all terror, just to save him for this long, waking nightmare. His eyes fell upon Firl. No. This couldn't be happening. They had braved so many dangers together! But then - Firl lived, blessed by Boron to live another day. The Gods had not yet abandoned them. They could fight back to the celebrations, then to Falkenhort in the east.... A trembling hand rose in the field of the dead, breaking Ulrik's thoughts. it was Bernward. Ulrik ran to him, hoping in vain to save him. "To the West," came a broken voice from trembling lips. "You must go west, to the Oaken tower." Ulrik wanted to hold him, tell him to save his strength. But whilst his leader's voice was failing, his eyes spoke firm. A final order was given, sealed with a final breath. He and Firl would not go east, behind protective walls, but west, into the heart of the enemy. West, to warn the Finsterwacht.