Night fell over Frostvele, but the fortress no longer felt cold or tense like it had during the days of battle.
Instead, the entire city was alive.
Large bonfires burned across the courtyards and open squares. Long wooden tables had been placed everywhere, and huge barrels of beer were rolled out from the storage halls. The smell of roasted meat drifted through the air while cooks hurried back and forth carrying plates stacked with grilled ribs, sausages, and freshly baked bread.
Soldiers gathered in groups, laughing loudly and slamming their mugs together.
Some were still wearing pieces of armor while others had finally changed into simpler clothes after weeks of fighting.
Tonight, no one cared about rank or formality.
Victory had to be celebrated.
Music soon began to echo through the fortress. A few soldiers brought out old instruments while others clapped their hands to keep rhythm. Some even started rough dancing near the fires while the younger recruits cheered them on.
