Onsel Saexren's Story

The hollow sound of a Dwarven iron horn rang out over the small field of green as among the clouds the morning sun just began to rise. Emerging from a hilled wood emerged a Dwarven soldier, followed by nine other foot-infantry and a Jarl-Commander on pony-back. The leading man blew his horn again, causing the birds to fly out the trees above them.

"You want the entire plains to know we've arrived, do you Fargett?" Onsel Saexren, the Commander, asked as she leaned her chin forward to rest on the pony's neck. The trumpeter, a chubby faced dwarf whose head barely fit beneath his bronze helmet, glanced down at the trumpet slowly. "We represent all of western Dwarvendom, my lady... we are the all that's left of the Western Infantry Army."

"Yes, we are, eleven men of an army, Fargett. Not eleven men that make up an army. We are all that's left, thus we belong to an army that as of this moment is no longer existing, because an army does not consist of eleven men," Onsel spat. "So don't play war tunes in enemy lands." A day earlier Onsel had indeed been the Jarl-Commander of the Western Infantry Army, one of the Dwarf's greatest military force, and the one that had caused the most chaos in the Great Plains for many years. She had only been Jarl-Commander for a month but already the ten-thousand dwarf force had seemed to be unstoppable. And then, bizarrely, they were stopped. She gathered the army to fight off the smallest possible force the Human's could send to their precious bordering hamlets, three-hundred men. And the three-hundred men won over their ten-thousand. Not just won, however, but decimated their forces. She had never seen such overwhelming. Flaming boulders had bombarded, cavalry cut through their lines and came out unscathed, and they were surrounded by what seemed to be the thinest line of human soldiers she had ever before seen. She had retreated, naturally, about the time her personal bodyguard had rushed through the lines to surrounded and were shot in the necks with bolts. She, and less than a dozen soldiers who gave her cover in escape, had fled to a nearby woods and had headed south, not stopping at all during the night until it now turned to morning.

"Commander, there's a village," One of the soldiers said as he pointed in the distance. On a hill on the horizon smoke could be seen. "A warm fire and bed..." Fargett whispered happily.

"And a bolt to the head," Onsel replied as she hopped off her pony, right at the bank of a small river. "We make camp here, get some rest... finally, eat something. When we're ready we head south-east until we hit the ocean, then we'll... I don't know, swim back to Ankhor or something. Use a raft."

"What's a raft?" Fargett asked. Onsel glared at him before kneeling at the river's edge and soaking her hands in it's calm waters, letting the crusted blood glide off her skin gently.

"You know, my Jarl, we won't be welcome back in Ankhor, right?" Another soldier, a gaunt dwarf with pale skin and oily black hairs, muttered as he sat down onto the dewy grasses.

"What do you mean?" Onsel asked as she continued to wash off her arms.

"I mean the army didn't lose that fight, Commander. You did," The dwarf said.

"No I didn't, we were ambushed," Onsel replied.

"We weren't, and that was an army of ten-thousand men against three-hundred," The dwarf said. "I'm quite afraid your incompetence may have lost Dwarvendom a war, my Jarl."

Onsel paused at the words before slowing raising herself from the river and turning to the soldier. "My incompetence?" She whispered with a small smile. "That's no way for a soldier to speak to his Jarl."

"Then perhaps you are my Jarl no longer," The dwarf replied, his eyes narrowing. Onsel grabbed the dwarf by the neck and threw him into the river, before lunging at his downed form. She punched and kicked the man vigorously before finally jabbing him in the throat with a knife. She stood from the body and turned to the others. "Any other concerns we'd like to address, men?" She asked wide-armed. The group of dwarves quickly shook their heads.

"Right," Onsel muttered as she carefully stepped out of the river. "I'm going to take a nap, I'd advise you all to do the same. Be prepared to leave in three hours," She said as she pulled out a blanket from the pony's saddle. She carefully placed it on the ground and lay back, the orange morning sky being her last sight as she closed her eyes. She had been running so long, she was so tired. Sleep soon took her.

Onsel awoke to the loud chirp of a cricket that stood on a plate of grass right at her ear. She tiredly smacked the insect away as she leaned up. She glanced around to see that the sun stood high in the sky, indicating it was midday, and that all her men, and her pony, were now gone. "Ah," She muttered bitterly as she stood and gathered her blanket up in her pack. "Traitors."

Rain began to pour down upon Onsel as she marched in the evening's black, clouded sky. She had, at first, attempted to locate where her treacherous unit had gone too. She found them, just south of where she had been, several Dwarven corpses, cut through by lances. The hoof prints led east, back to the lush, the forest that ran along humanities eastern coast, and the way she needed to go, to get to the sea, and hopefully, by boat, back to the Ankhor Mountains. But she couldn't, because there was an army, somewhere in the lush, blocking her path. And so an alternative route had to be found, but not tonight. Tonight she needed to sleep, and eat. And so she walked through main dirt road that ran through and past the village as the rain-pour came down. The sign of a local tavern, a large timber-framed building, made to look even larger given Onsel's height, flung violently in the storming winds. She looked up at the building and saw through the darkness light shin within it's windows. Onsel hurriedly moved toward door's of the inn. After straining for the knob she opened the wooden door of the tavern to reveal inside dozens of humans, sitting and eating at weak wooden tables, doing their best to ignore the storm and their wavering candle-fire as they spoke idly of their days on the field. She could not stand these type of people, those who died a mile from where they were born, clueless to what the world was. And it wasn't just the humans, the Dwarves had identical villages, at the coasts or in the hills. And she was sure the Elves had them too, farmers, bucktoothed simpletons, there to feed the cities and nothing else.

Suddenly, from behind Onsel a mighty gust of wind and water blasted the doors open at full force, sweeping through the room and dimming extinguishing every candle. "Sorry!" Onsel called as she struggled to close the door against the wind. Eventually she did and, as the tavern maid relit the lights, walked forward toward the bar, getting looks from the small community gathered within the establishment's creaky walls.

"You know there's a war about, don't you little Dwarf?" A muscular man with sideburns and a mustached asked as she passed his table.

"There are Dwarves in your plains, it's not illegal," Onsel replied. "We live where we must live."

"Fair enough," The man replied with a nod as he turned back to his family, a thin woman with red hair and a young girl with a bonnet, who sat opposite him at their rounded table. Onsel smiled at the daughter with her sharp Dwarven teeth, scaring the child slightly, before continuing on toward the bar. Onsel sat down on one of the bar chairs, careful not to undo the knot in her cloak, which hid her armor and blade. "What's your name, ma'am?" The woman behind the bar asked.

"Bonabin Darcy," Onsel replied with a completely plausible name. "I'm a traveling trader."

"Okay Bonabin," The woman said.

"Please, call me Darcy," Onsel interrupted.

"Okay Darcy," The woman said. "How can I help you?"

"How much for some food and a night?" Onsel asked as she pulled a large sack of gold coins from beneath her cloak.

"I'm sure you'll have enough," The woman said as she went to the opposite side the counter to prepare the meal. "You know your lucky to have come to Porterfled. There are some hamlets that aren't quite as welcoming to Dwarves..."

"Is that so?" Onsel asked as she glanced around at the bars patrons.

"Yes, but we're used to them, kinda," The woman continued as she continued to cook. "Look there, in the seat under the stairway." Onsel turned to the seat beneath the stairway. By a window she could see the silhouette of a bearded face and a arched nose, flickering as did the weak candle he sat by. "He's been here since my mother has, but she died long ago. Still, the whole village knows him," The woman explained. "He's sort of a protector. If any of the boys get into trouble they go to him and he gets them out, not before knocking them across the head, mind you."

"...Is that so," Onsel whispered as she glared at the darkness.

"Here you are!" The woman said as she pushed forward a bowl to Onsel. It was a soup, steaming, with bits of chicken and carrot floating around it. Onsel picked up her spoon to take a sip when suddenly the tavern door was once again thrashed open. From outside war-horns blew as a human soldier walked in from his small group, crusted blood and dirt decorating his face.

"God, Exalon, what happened?!" The woman behind the bar cried in panic.

"The city's lost, we abandoned it four days ago..." The boy of a soldier, Exalon, spat bitterly. "Last I saw of it was after we fought our way out a line of Dwarves blocking the sewer exit. It was being besieged and was in flame. By this time I guarantee you it's fallen."

"I can't believe this," One of the voices in the tavern whispered. "I was supposed to set off with the wheat tomorrow for the city, now what will I do!"

"Relax, Argent," The woman behind the bar whispered. "We're on the edge of plains, we've dealt with Dwarven attacks on the cities before."

"Oh boy, all these Dwarves..." Onsel muttered as she lifted the soup bowl to her mouth.

"You!" Exalon yelled as he grabbed Onsel by the shoulder and spun her around on her chair. "Dwarf!" He yelled, slicing his blade upward through her cloak, revealing the armor beneath. "Soldier!"

"I'm not, I swear! I looted this off a corpse, I'm a rogueish character!" Onsel exclaimed as she leapt onto the bar-counter and pulled her blade out. Exalon raised his blade to attack, but, before he could, he was grabbed from behind and pulled down to the floor. Small hands went for his blade arm and cracked it backward, causing Exalon to yell out in pain.

"Get a hold of yourself, boy!" The Old Dwarf, his hairs grey with a hint of blonde, and his skin pale and wrinkled, muttered as he stood upright.

"My arm!" Exalon cried. "You broke my arm!"

"But a scratch in comparison to what I'm sure she would of done!" The Old Dwarf muttered, pointing to Onsel with his walking stick. "That really may be an overestimate," Onsel muttered as she put her blade away and carefully came down from the counter.

"You are dangerous, though," The Old Dwarf whispered as he gazed upon Onsel. "You had to be to get that armor. No Dwarven soldier is left to rot on the field, you must of killed one to get it."

"Right," Onsel replied with a forced smile, thinking about the thousands of Dwarven soldiers she had left to rot on the field just two days earlier. The Old Dwarf leaned in to Onsel with a large, bent tooth smile. "I do know who you are though..." He began slowly. "You're an exile, like me."

"Oh," Onsel muttered as she sat down to continue her soup.

The Old Dwarf sat beside her. "I don't know what you did to get exiled or who you did it to, but God bless you."

"Don't you mean Ancestors?" Onsel asked before swallowing another spoon full.

"No," The Old Dwarf replied. "I mean God. Dwarvendom, in all her corruption, all her war-making, politics, and crime can keep her Ancestors. I've lived in these fields for the last two-hundred years and I've had more peace here than I had in all my time in the mountains, or even as a wandering man of the Kingdom."

"A Kingdom I mean to get back to..." Onsel replied with a sigh as she raised the spoon to her mouth.

"And why is that?" The Old Dwarf asked.

"Let's just say there's someone in the mountains I must pay a visit to," Onsel said, vaguely alluding to a non-existent purpose.

"You can't go to the coast, the human's patrol there, and they don't care how legal a citizen you are, soldiers see you chances are they will attack," The Old Dwarf explained. "Can't go east, there's a massive Dwarf army that way, thousands of men. And I'm assuming you don't want to run into those lads either."

"Yes, of course," Onsel muttered as she listened to the Old Dwarf talk about the army she had recently commanded and, shortly after, gotten destroyed.

"That only leaves one choice," The Old Dwarf chuckled. "You head North to the river Miene, and rid up it until it branches back to the Great River. Then you ride that east, thought riding those rapids is a perilous journey. And the Miene ends in the city that Exalon here ran from. A city now controlled by the Dwarves. You'll have to get inside the city and get a boat, then ride up the canal into the main river."

Or, Onsel thought to herself as the Old Dwarf talked, she would reach the city, go to the Dwarf Commanders there and get reinstated within their army. Perfectly simple.

"Of course we're gonna have to set off first thing tomorrow if we want to make it there while the army is still in too much occupational chaos to notice two new faces sneak in," The Old Dwarf said as he sipped the top off his large pint.

"I noticed you said we, which is bizarre because you're not coming with me," Onsel pointed out helpfully.

The Old Dwarf chuckled. "Well... I figure I sort of have to. Exalon is pretty pissed about abandoning the city, and Argent there really does need to get that wheat delivered, so I figured I'd go in and get that city back for the old Humans here. I think they deserve it."

"You do realize they have... an army there, right?" Onsel asked with an amused smile. "You can't seriously take on an army. I'll give you maybe three soldiers at once but an army generally consists of many times that."

"We'll see," The Old Dwarf replied with a carefree shrug as he raised his pint in the air. "Tonight just eat up, drink heartily, and get some rest. Tomorrow our journey begins."

"Right, ten copper, five bronze, or two gold," The Gnomish man said from beneath his thick, blonde, pigtailed beard. Onsel looked down at the man standing just over three feet tall. The Gnomes were Dwarven pygmies from the Northern Mountains, north of the Great River. The Ankhor Dwarves and the Northern Gnomes had little contact with each other, with the Dwarven population and production rates trumping the Gnomes there was little effort to trade, and soon the single underground highway that ran from Ankhor to the Northern Mountains was abandoned, and when Celandine separated itself between the races the Northern Mountains fell to the Elves, the Gnomes still in them.

"You can't seriously tell me ten copper is worth two gold?" Onsel muttered as she held the blade up.

"You 'an just pay with th' copper, lassy. I'm not tryin' to pull th' wool over ye'r eyes," The Gnomish man spat loudly between uneven, yellow teeth. "Business be business."

"Indeed it be," Onsel muttered as she pulled her money sacklette out. "I'll take that Elven blouse, those corduroy Human trousers... Eh, the blade, her sheath... The iron gauntlets, matching greaves... And the leather vest and shoes," She muttered as she glanced over the man's items. "Also, knock off how much you'll take for a Dwarven Jarl-Commander's armour," She muttered as she handed him the different parts of her outfit.

"I'll take th' armour, you take your goods, and we'll call it even, aye?" The Gnome said as he examined the expensive Dwarven armor. Onsel smiled at him as she took her products from his cart and carried them back into the tavern. The Gnome climbed the stepladder on the side of his yak back onto it's saddle and began to move along once more down the road, onto the next town no doubt. After a few minutes Onsel emerged from the tavern once again, fully dressed in her new outfit, the only remaining feature being her inside out Jarl's cloak.

"Ready at last!" The Old Dwarf hummed as he stepped out of the bakery, he too dressed plainly. "Ah yes! Much less conspicuous."

"Right," Onsel muttered as she rubbed her eyes, still tired even though it was midday. "Let's be off. I've had enough of this village to last a lifetime."

"Or two, in your case," The Old Dwarf murmured.

"Stop," Onsel sighed as the two began their journey north through the human fields, in the east the outline of the Ankhor mountains loomed in the distance...

***

Onsel tugged at the hips of her trousers as she walked. They were meant for children, she had to buy children's clothing it would be the only things that fit her in human lands. The problem with that was that human children, while her height, were generally frail, thin and starving, and she was not frail and most definitely not thin. Same issue applied to the Elven blouse, which she barely squeezed into. With the armour, the gauntlets and greaves, she faced the opposite problem. They were meant for short human warriors, Equestrian pirate make, but were still not small enough for a Dwarf. They were too large for her, with the gauntlets ending beyond her elbow and the greaves beyond her knees. Still, looking like an ill-dressed buffoon was better than looking like the Conquerer of Naugeskor wherever she roamed, that much she was certain.

"Wait," The Old Dwarf whispered as he knelt down into the grasses along the edge of the hill they walked upon. Onsel lay on her stomach beside him and watched as below a Human patrol passed. "Not taking chances today, we mustn't..." He mumbled through his beard and the grasses.

"So we are out here cause of midget sightings and some drunk fisher," One of the soldiers spat as he walked through the grasses with his hands on his hips. "Great... here U thought the plan was to take the war to the pointy ears but no gotta follow some drunk's tale..."

"Oh do shut up!" Another muttered. "If ya' want to open your piehole do it to the Commander when we get back to camp."

"Oh Yes... Little camp in the dark woods... Can we just get back there? This patrol is a waste of time..." The first replied.

"Fine. Let's get back, move it troops," A third, the Commander said. Onsel recognized them, they were dressed in mismatched armor, just as the small Human army that had decimated her forces were dressed. The Human patrol began to walk away. Onsel began to raise from the ground, just as, below her, just slightly off from where the humans were, Elven forms stood from the tall grasses they had hid in. Onsel quickly narrowed herself onto the hilltop again at the sight.

"Looks like we just walked into a war..." One of the Elves sighed from below.

"Yes," Another replied. "Lady Sylvia will want to hear this... Back to camp, double time."

As the Elves began to run off through the grasses the Old Dwarf quickly raised himself from the ground and brushed himself off. "Quickly, Darcy, my dear. After those Elves!"

"...Why," Onsel replied with a shrug. "We're supposed to go North to the Dwarf occupied city."

"The Dwarves have always raged war on the plains here, that was the battle of the lush!" The Old Dwarf bellowed at Onsel. "That was our place. Keep calm and carry on we did, it was just everyday, we'd gotten used to it. We know the Dwarves well, we do. Hell I am one!"

"I think you mean waged; and right, so let's go there, to the occupied city, since we already know how they work," Onsel suggested helpfully.

"But Elves! Elves coming to the plains!" The Old Dwarf continued angrily. "The Human's here know the Dwarven threat, they can deal with it. But Elves... No, no we must stop this at once..." And with that the Old Dwarf turned around and began to follow the distant Elven forms through the grass.

"Wait!" Onsel spat. "I need to get to that city, you don't understand how important it is! I... I really have to settle my debt and you're my only guide!"

"Then come with me!" The Old Dwarf called. "We see what these Elves are up to, knock a few heads, then get back up North to the city! Trust me lass, come with me and I won't let your quest go on unresolved!"

Onsel paused for a moment before cursing beneath her breath. She steadily ran up beside the Old Dwarf and the two continued through the grasslands, now heading south after the distant shadows of the Elven scouts. As they ran she glanced to the Old Dwarf beside her. He truly believed she was like him, an exiled Dwarf now on Humanity's side. How little he knew about her truly unfortunate situation. And so they ran on...

Sylvia turn swifty drawing her blade pointing in at the young female ranger that enter her tent "You should know better then to enter my tent at a time like this." she said angerly
The terrorfied ranger spoke nervously "Please forgive me my lady but our lookouts have spotted two Dwarves coming from the north it's only a mater of time before the reach us"
Sylvia sighed and put away her sword much to the relief of the ranger. "They may be scouts...let them make the first move, hopfuly they will just pass by us. If they just pass by then leave them be, but if they come too close or try to attack cripple them and bring them to me...I'll be with my brother..."
"As you wish my lady" spoke the ranger before she left to relay the orders.

Soon after the ranger left Syliva too left her tent and went to her brother's cage. "That must have been one hell of a hit you gave him, he's still out cold." spoke the gaurd as Sylvina walked up.
"Take a break Micali I'll watch him for a bit..."
The gaurd nodded and walked off as Sylvina sat in front of Sevick's cage looking at her brother with a sigh "You are such an idiot" she whispered to the knocked out form.

As the sun grew lower in the afternoon sky Onsel and the Old Dwarf continued to travel as silently as possible, keeping to the Elves swift pass as to not lose them but careful not to get to close. The duo eventually followed the Elves through the woodlands and to the thick edge of the Ankhor forests. The Elves before them hurriedly scuttled between it's dense trees and further in. Onsel and the Old Dwarf quickly made their way from the hill they had knelt behind and approached the wall of trees before them.

"Neither the Human's nor the Dwarves are proper masters of forest warfare," Onsel whispered as she gazed up at the ancient green trees that loomed before her, their leafs now bright colours of red and orange for the fast approaching Autumn. "The Elves must of come up from the coast and hidden in it..." Onsel scratched her chin slightly as she stepped between the curved trees where the Elves had entered, the loud crunch of leafs crushing beneath her leather boots welcoming her to the forests. In the distance she spotted the Elven scouts leap over a fallen tree and continue on into the labyrinth of red. "Still, the Elves have always hidden in the north, in the Silverwood... why attack now," Onsel sighed as she turned to the Old Dwarf who approached her side. "It can mean they are either winning the war and expanding from their defensive tactics, or they are getting desperate... Or the Elven Queen is dead and her replacement is much less passive."

"...Well, if the Elves have been winning let us change things up and give them a definite recorded loss, eh?" The Old Dwarf growled as he began after the Scouts once more, directly into the web of trees that stood before him. Onsel glanced back at the sunlight and clear, grassy hills beyond the forests edge before continuing on with her companion after the mysterious Elves.

The Dwarves continued on once again, deeper and deeper into the heart of the Autumn forest until the light was so little and the trees so thick it felt as though night had come just after midday. After just a few hours in the forest, however, it seemed that the Old Dwarf had reached his goal, as just past a stream that ran through the mossy and leaf covered grounds a small camp stood. Their tents were green, quilted like the trees, only standing out due to the forests seasonal transformation. In the centre of the camp many Elven soldiers worked, enough to make it look like proper military encampment, massive and yet all compacted beneath the trees.

"Well Darcy," The Old Dwarf chuckled as he pulled his pipe from his pocket and placed it beneath his bearded lips. "Looks like we've found our Elves."

"Don't go charging in," Onsel replied as she eyeballed the camp from a distance. In the centre of the camp she saw a she-elf emerge, standing proud. The Commander no doubt. The woman walked forward through the camp and approached a large cage hung from a tree in it's centre where another Elf was being held. "This is proper military we're dealing with. Dwarvendom's military, though bound in ancient traditions, is successful due to it's extreme levels of organization. They have a systematic way of doing things and are prepared for anything, including a wilderness attack. The Elves aren't nearly as anal about these things but I guarantee you they too have protocols. If we run in charing we won't take any of them out, the immediate soldiers will retreat and the famed Elven archers will take their aim, most likely to kill. If not to paralyze, which will lead to torture, which is never pleasant. No, we need a plan. More central in camp is the Commanders tent. Now, patrolling the camp are the guards, from what I've seen they go about in groups of four. If we hide in the trees and strike silently we may be able to take a group of four out. We get into their army and take an irregular route back into the camp to avoid detection. Once in we head to the Commanders tent. Kill her if we can and take their military strategies then get out as quick as possible. If we continue on east we'll get out of the lush faster than going back west. They will hunt us though and we only stand I chance if we reach the coast, they're coated with village guards and mercenaries, both Human and Dwarven. In a fight there we will have allies. And of course we'll have to wait for the Commander to get back into her tent, assuming that is her." Onsel bit her lip as she repeated the details of her plan to herself. "What do you think, fafhar?" She asked, turning to the old, pipe smoking man beside her only to see an empty fold in the leafs.

"For Erandor!" The Old Dwarf screamed as he charged into the camp, still smoking his pipe and wielding a massive axe. The Old Dwarf ran into the centre of the camp and thrust his axe forward into the gut of an Elven guard, ripping the blood soaked weapon out a second later and swinging at more Elves.

"Yup, that was a mistake," Onsel yelled as she jumped beside the Old Dwarf and unsheathed her blade...

Sylvia looked at her brother with a sigh and was about to leave him where she heard him groan and then speak "Sister...I'm sorry" he muttered before drifting back into sleep. Sylvia sighed and shook head head but before she could say anything a shout entered the air.

"For Erandor!" yelled out an old and most likely insane dwarf. The old Dwarf got the jump on one guard but the others where quick to react holding their weapons and defencely falling back luring the old foolish dwarf into a volley of arrows aimed at his arms and legs the old dwarf fell crippled. a group of imps then hopped out set to bash the old dwarf and then tie him up but they jumped away as they saw the younger female dwarf.

By this time though a good portion of the crimson elf army had appeared their green eyes glowing in anger about to set upon the female dwarf but stopped as Sylvia walked forward sword in hand she looked at the dwarf woman "I suggest you put down your sword small one we have no quarrel with your kind...sadly though your friend has shed my people's blood" Sylvia thrust her sword into the old dwarf ending his life then pulled it out and pointed the blood stained blade at the Dwarf woman "Now drop your blade small one unless you wish to share your friend's fate"

Onsel looked on in horror as the Elf pulled out her blade, pulling at the newly ripped ends of light silk tunic the Old Dwarf wore. He let out a heavy sigh and turned to glance at Onsel, his mouth open among his many hairs and his eyes in true sadness. And with that the collapsed onto his back, among a cushion of leafs and moss.

"Now drop your blade small one unless you wish to share your friend's fate," The Elf spoke as stepped forward, treading over the Old Dwarf's round stomach as she did. She extended her blade, still lightly coated in blood forward at Onsel's chest. Onsel paused for a moment, to think. All around her Elven soldiers stood, their green eyes piercing through the darkness of the shadowed woods. They all held weapons, bows or blades, though down at their sides casually, as if the threat had already been nullified. Onsel glanced past the Commanding Elf's legs, to the corpse of the Old Dwarf behind her, laying on his back with his arms over his head, his mouth still open. And perhaps it had. She dropped her blade to the ground, it's light rusted body clinking loudly as it hit the rocks at her feet.


Onsel turned from the Old Dwarf's corpse back to the Commanding Elf. After a moment she gave a large, toothy grin. "Well... Welcome to Dwarvendom!" Onsel exclaimed after a moment...

Sylvia nodded and wiped the blood from her blade as she spoke in elven the dwarf woman like wouldn't know what she said but it didn't mater as the actions that followed showed what was spoken. The tiny imps returned many of them giving the dwarf rude looks before do their tasks. Two imps grabed the female dwarf's sword carring it like a prize as the others dragged off the corpse of the old dwarf to gods knows what ends. As she imps worked the elves gracefuly took the body of the fallen elf and carried it into a tent.

Sylvia then turned back to the dwarf and spoke "I am Sylvia Dawnstriker and these are my people the Crimson Elves...We want no part of this war we just want a safe haven. I didn't want to have to slay your friend..but our laws are clear when blood is shed blood must be repaid." She sighed then looked down at the Dwarf "Now we shall have words in my tent.."

Sylvia turned and walked to her tent as two guards in heavy red armor walked up behind the dwarf they said nothing but motioned for the dwarf to follow Sylvia to her tent. Their frim stance and cold glare told painly it would not be wise for the dwarf not to listen.

Town of Port Lasst

Aneska looked around the small town of Port Lasst it was not something to write home about that's for sure but the king saw it fit to send his newest commander here first reports of dwarf sightings, then a fleet of demonic ship and finally a human warship being burned. What a way to get my feet wet... thought Aneska. It was long before a human man in silver armor walked up to the necromanic commander...

"I assume you are Lady Ravenwood? I am Sir Fanix commander of the forces here." spoke the silver armored man

"You assume correctly Sir Fanix...now please share with me what is going on here..." answered Aneska

"We belive a dwarven army has moved into the area and are camped in the forests...odd as it seems but we no of no way the elves could have got here. We where planing to enter the woods and look for them but chose to wait when we got word of your coming."

"Dwarves in the trees...seems odd but whatever this threat is we will end it swifty."

Aneska then ordered her army a mix of undead and humans into the woods.

"Lady Sylvia your brother is awake and wishes to talk to you..." spoke a warrior
Sylvia sighed "Fine..I will see too him wait here and tell the dwarf i'll be back shortly..."
The warrior nodded and Sylvia left her tent. She walked up to the cage and looked at her brother Sevick with a sigh.
"Sister...i'm sorr..."
"I know...and i may have overreacted.."
"So will you let me out now dear sister?"
"Fine I guess you have had enough of a time out..."
Sylvia started to unlock the cage when a blast of dark magic turned both the cage and sevick to ash. The blast was followed by a shout "For Port Lasst!"
Sylvia turned her eyes angerly on the woman that fired the blast yelling her own battle call "For Quel Talas!"
The other Crimson elves joined in the shout and soon the bodies of humans undead and Crimson elves clashed in bloodly battle. But Sylvia only had in her sights the necromancer that even now was turning more of her people to dust. She slashed though the foes line blind holy rage her guide only till a man in silver armor bared her way "you go no far.." his words where ended with the loss of his head and the humans started to lose ground but the head of the snake was not yet severed...

Aneska laughed as Sylvia came before her "So the little she elf has come to die at my hands like her brother"
Sylvia said nothing but in anger grabed Aneska's neck choaking her but in her anger she did not note Aneska dagger which burried itself into her side. she could feel the life draining from her. Sylvia cut with her sword slashing across Aneska's tummy and causing her to fall back. Now both wounded they circled each other Aneska with her dagger and Sylvia with her sword. The armies stared on stopping their fight to watch the two heros as if the whole battle stood on which one won. Aneska formed a ball of darkness and threw it at Sylvia who dodged it and drove at Aneska with her sword. Aneska managed to block the first strike but the speed of Sylvia was seen with the second strike which cut off Aneska's arm. Aneska fell to her knees looking up in shock at Sylvia only to see and feell Sylvia's sword slam down her mouth and into her neck giving her a painful and gory end. Sylvia then removed her blade and picking up Aneska's dagger she turned to the horrifed humans "Now you die" she said even as they undead allies turned to dust with the loss of the necromancer.

The Crimson Elves made short work of the remaining humans Sylvia then turned to her forces "burn the camp and the dead...then we march to Port Lasst...It will burn in our vengace.."
"what of the dwarf?" asked one
"She can find her own way out of this...our war is with the humans now... For Quel Talas!"
"For Quel Talas!" shouted back the army of Crimson Elves now marching to war.

Those who have left our arms.

Björn Ironhammer

Björn Ironhammer died in battle, as any honorable Dwarf should. His funeral is one that the bards will song of for ages to come, filled with many a song and drink. His death occured on 3E 7C 78Y June 16. Rest in peace, Mighty Warrior.

Daedron of The Hollow

Not much is known of Daedron's death, he disappeared from the history books directly after the war began. Rest in peace, Mouse.

Drake Ravenseeker

Drake was another one of the Humans that went incognito after the war began, most likely fleeing to the Forests after the siege of Erandor. Rest in peace, Mouse.

Lafarin Dalisia

Much mourning and sorrow was accompanied with the death of Lafarin Dalisia, on account of the Elven people. He is buried at the site of The Battle of Deep Wood, where he met his end. A lone oak standing amidst a field of bright flowers is all that remains of him. His sister Queen Arlathina, has declared it an official sacred territory of the Elves. It is attended to by the Queen's Druids, and can be visited by anyone to pay their respects. Rest in peace, Silenced Brother.

Keaghan The Corrupted Knight

Keaghan was a brave knight, one of the finest the Humans had to offer. Alas, he was corrupted by the dark magic that plagued Celandine. His demise was brought about after the union of Humans, Elves, and Dwarves. The bards still sing songs of his woeful story today. Rest in peace, Just Knight.

Aneska Ravenwood

Aneska Ravenwood was slain in battle, by Sylvia Dawnstriker The Redeemer. She was a great necromancer who aided the Humans in their hour of need. Rest in peace, Silenced Sister.

Yuhra Quartam Gladio

Yuhra was brought to an end by her father, and as such she brought to end him. After a magnificent battle, with her will to live diminished, Yuhra pressed herself onto the blade of her father, Azure. And in her last moments thrust her blade through him. They died together, locked in a warm embrace. Queen Arlathina witnessed this event. It is said that on moonlit nights the spirits of Yuhra and her father can be seen frollicking among the trees, laughing and playing together as a father and daughter should. Rest in peace, Forbidden Daughter, and Forbidden Lover.

Galdra Orarira

Galdra Orarira met her end with the uprising of the Ekalon, which was quickly subdued by the Elven Military. When Galdra died the rest of the order was effectively dissolved. Rest in peace, Night Mother.

Amond Seleem

Amond Seleem died of poor nutrition while in the custody of the Elves. Rest in peace, Vengeful Soul.

Onsel Saexren

Onsel met her end at The Siege of Erandor. Rest in peace, Determined Commander.

Sylvia Dawnstriker

Sylvia was returned to the oaks, as were the rest of her people, and they had been missed for almost a thousand years. Rest in peace, Redeemer.

Azure

Azure was brought to an end by his daughter, Yuhra. Rest in peace, Forbidden Father, and Wandering Soul.

Queen Arlathina Dalisia

Queen Arlathina Dalisia died after a sucessful and prosperous rule of 600 years. At the time of her death she said these words, "In my life I have witnessed things that we Elves will never understand. Nor the Humans or Dwarves. We are all brethren in the depths of the forest. I can hear my mother's sweet singing. Rest in peace, Silent Mother."