Founding a New World

They had covered 18 leagues in the past two days and were making good time. When they stopped to rest for the night Nailo noticed that Enalias had a worried look on his face. That was uncharacteristic of the knight Nailo knew, he was seldom worried about anything. As they sat down to their evening meal Nailo turned to address the issue.

"Something on your mind, my friend?" he inquired.
"Yes sir," he replied. "It may be nothing though."
"You'd better tell me then. A little bit of nothing has a habit of becoming a whole lot of something." he said.
"Well sir," Enalias began. "Its just that the messenger I sent should have reported in by now. I thought it prudent that he meet us on the rode as he returned."
That doesn't sound good, Nailo thought. "That worries me also. Maybe we shouldn't just go strolling into the human's encampment."
"A prudent thought sir," Enalias agreed with a short nod.
"Alright, we'd better get some rest. Take alternate watches. I don't want anyone sneaking up on us in the night." Nailo told them. Findall and Enalias nodded. While Nailo and Findall went to turn in for the night, Enalias took first watch. A grave look was on his face. He didn't like where his thoughts led.

After receiving the swords, Bowen had proceed to carry the treasures to the almost complete blockhouse. His own greed and the enthralling power of the riches so purposefully planted on the weapons block out the world from his mortal ears and eyes. After his father gambled away most of the family coin and lands, the slightest hint of the glinting gold had always drawn the young Paddock's eyes (and had gotten the young boy switched a few times, after he had picked up the belongings of other persons to inspect them. He had planned to return them but somehow he was always caught before he had the chance).

However, the sound of a musket shot brought him out of his greed. Blinking the gold hungry lust from his large brown eyes, the ratty Lieutenant tucked both swords under his left arm and hurried out of blockhouse, just in time to spot the dead elf (or so he would have to assume from the clothing alone, as he didn't get a chance to look at the body's ears). The frown on his face deepened, as his muscles went to work making the facial expression for one.

"Staff" roared Bowen.

Heavy thuds as the shod hooves of the warhorses made their way through the forested land near the where the meeting was to occur. Subtle shapes darted through the trees along the path the horses took, the scout-wardens were alert and watchful for any ambush. The twelve knights rode in single file as they followed the terrain towards a small vale, shrouded by great mossy trees.

Dynoz Tarr gritted his teeth as his eyes flicked from side to side under the great helm. The shield held securely in his left hand as were the reins, a heavy horseman's mace lay across the back of the horse, his right hand held it firmly. He was always aware of an ambush, always leery of meetings such as this. However this was different, this could tip the balance back into his favor. Somewhere ahead was the renegade army of the Ghost Wolves. A cruel smile graced the lips of the Dread Gryphon, somewhere ahead the only hope of the Dara'lis was waiting to speak to him. The harsh eyes narrowed as he glanced to the heavily armored knights that rode behind him, this alliance might work in his favor if he could draw off the Ard Ri's army into a rash battle where they could be decimated he could force the usurper to relinquish his claim to the throne.

Finding the small vale, the twelve knights arrayed themselves in a line, Lord Tarr dismounted, and had a seat in a stool brought to him by a scout. Across from him is placed another stool. Two billowing banners of the Dread Gryphon are planted in the loamy ground on either side of the stools.

His heater lay leaning against his left leg, the horseman's mace still lay across his lap, his war sword adjusted so it was in position to not get tangled in the stool should he have to rise and defend himself quickly.

With a grunt Lord Dynoz Tarr, the Dread Gryphon waited for the Ghost Wolves to arrive.

Ard Ri's Calvalry/ Emerlis

"Their right there sir, scouts found the camp not two hours ago, nobody saw us." An elven knight pointed out the hazy dark shadow of the Ghost Wolves' encampent to the Ard Ri. The Lord and five other knights all clad in lightweight black clothing lay on the peak of a rise over looking the valley where their foe's were camped. The village of tents spread out along the valley were easy to spot, by the smoldering remains of cooking fires. They were about ten leagues from the castle Emerlis, just inside the Dara' Lis borders, the Ard Ri smiled this would be an easy battle. About two leagues from the camp a large stand of trees could be seen arcing in a sort of half moon on the camps left side, the Ard Ri knew there was a sacred elven spot there in the woods, but thought nothing of killing so close to holy ground. Besides the trees would slow down anyone trying to flee to the side allowing his calvalry to catch up and finish them off.

Withdrawing from the hill down to their grazing horses the scouting party and their Lord mounted, and trotted off silently at a wave from the Ard Ri. Back with the main force of knights, the Ard Ri dismounted and began pulling on his white armour, covered in black cloth to mask it in the dark. "We will move silently gentleman, I will take four hundred strong to the tents directly in front of us, Flor'din you will take the rest around to the other side. We will attack on my command, a flaming arrow above the camp." Flor'din, the current second in command of the mission, nodded and motioning to the already armored knights moved off into the dark. The Ard Ri listened as they disappeared, only the occasional squeak or nicker giving away their presence. Finally fully garbed in his armor the elven Lord mounted and motioned to his own group as he kicked his stallion into a trot.

Over the rise the four hundred knights krept, till they were a meer three hundred yard outside the camp, a short charge for the stout elven steeds. Giving his second in command time to correctly position his forces the Ard Ri sat stiffling a slight yawn. Finally after twenty minutes he could stand it no longer. Signalling to a knight holding a bow laden with an oil soaked cloth bound arrow, he watched as sparks flew from flint and steel lighting the mass that in turn was quickly launched into the air above the camp. "CHARGE!!!," the yell of the elven Lord sounded and was quickly picked up by his men as they pounded across the expanse into the rebel camp, their actions quickly mimicked by the force across the expanse of tents. Left and right the knights hacked chopping down tents and the occasional elf who had been relieving himself in the dark. Sparks flew from the smoldering fires, kicked up by the war horses, and lit tents ablaze. The knights circled and wheeled dealing destruction everywhere possible to crush the enemy.

Ard Ri's Foot Soldiers/Dara' Lis Territory

Captain Faur' lor sat with a group of officers around a fire, munching on marching rations, and wishing he were back home in a warm bed with his wife rather then leading the Ard Ri's force to aid the Dara' Lis. They were situated two leagues outside the Dara' Lis castle, sheltering in a stand of pines, having marched double time the whole way prefering to arrive early then anger the Ard Ri with tardiness. The only problem was there had been no sign of Lord Eckert's forces, Faur' lor guessed they were marching at a slower pace having to move an entire army. He prayed that army would not arrive until the Dara' Lis forces had assembled and the Ard Ri had arrived to lead them all. If they were attacked the Captain had no doubt both the Dara' Lis and his forces would be over run, as the partly assembled Dara' lis army and his forces would be totally outnumbered. What had the Dara' Lis Lord been thinking assembling his forces so late!? They may all pay for the blunder in the end....