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[h2][b][color=red]Southeast Tanecie[/color][/b][/h2]
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Herush coughed and spat out the bile in his mouth. His blood pounding in his head and making his ears ring only worsened his nausea. His hands trembled, still gripping his horse’s reins and his spear so tightly that his knuckles whitened. All around him, many of the other legionaries were in a similar state among the screams of the wounded who managed to stay in their saddle.

The battle had begun well. Kursh knew that his small force could not hope to defeat a field army, but he still intended to bleed the enemy before withdrawing. With the mocking sound of their howling war cries, the Bikhaan horse archers harried the elven army with close range arrow volleys before galloping out of reach again and again, goading the Tacenians to pursue them towards a hill. The Dragon Legion and Golden Guard cavalry reserves had been lying in wait out of view, just beyond the crest of the hill, and charged down the slope at the opportune time. Any enemy would have been at least unnerved by the sight, and shaken by the impact. Instead, the elves closed ranks and broke the charge upon them like a wave on a rock.


Even as Kursh quickly ordered an orderly withdrawal, the short melee had left too many legionaries and Golden Guards dead, and precious few enemies casualties. The clash was over as suddenly as it began.

“You!”

The familiar, imperious voice had Herush straighten up in his saddle before he could see his commander approaching him. The young legionary almost choked as he squeaked out a reply.

“My lord?”

“Take this and ride ahead of us to Elgahad as quickly as you can. Bring it to Shor-Khâr Arûn.” Kursh handed a hastily-written sealed letter to Herush. “This is the perfect job for a coward like you, isn’t it?” The grizzled veteran threw him a full waterskin before the legionary could answer. “I trust that you know what will happen to you if you should fail, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, my lord. I won’t.”

“Well what are you waiting for? Go!”

For a second time, Herush found himself riding hard and away from a battlefield, and the fact that he had been ordered to do so this time was a small comfort for the long journey ahead.


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[h2][b][color=red]Elgahad[/color][/b][/h2]
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Arûn leaned on a balcony of his palace’s highest tower overlooking his city, rivaled only by the foreboding spire of Oran-Shor’s temple, the brazier at the very top of it burning bright in the evening sky. Even as the sun kissed the horizon, the city’s three gates were still packed full of refugees and soldiers. Preparations for a mass levy had been underway for weeks and the order had been given as soon as Kursh’s messenger reached the city, warning of the coming attack. A labor force conscripted from the city’s populace had been raised, the outskirts of Elgahad outside the curtain walls were razed to deny the enemy cover, heavy stones gathered in piles along the ramparts, cauldrons filled with sand and placed over firepits, timber collected for constructing barricades in the streets.

“We have done all we can. It won’t be long now,” Arûn mused as he looked towards the great port of Elgahad as the last of the merchant vessels were setting sail towards the east.

“The soldiers are ready.” Kursh stood behind the Dragon Lord, dour as ever. “We will triumph or die by your side.”

“Not you.” Arûn turned around to see the confusion on his guard commander’s face as he expected.

“My lord?”

“Tomorrow, my galley leaves for Unar with my household. I want you to be on it.”

“You expect the battle to go ill. Then I should be fighting here, not on a ship guarding women and slaves!” Kursh’s beard trembled with indignation.

“No. You have more experience fighting the elves than anyone else in Ördûn. Your skills will be precious in the days to come.”

“And what of you? You are Shor-Khâr, your life is more important than mine. Let me command the city’s defense and save yourself from a futile death!”

“This is my city, Kursh. I will not leave. Do not make me repeat my orders.”

“I have been at your side since you were a boy holding a sword for the first time. I watched as you grew to be a strong and wise lord like your father before you. Don’t do this.” In all these years, Arûn had never heard Kursh so pleading. Almost begging.

The lord of Elgahad sighed. “I know that I ask a lot of you. To live as I die, for a greater purpose and the good of Ördûn. It is the final service that I require of you.” His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, stared into Kursh’s own. “Can you do it?”

[b]tl;dr: The Ördûni raiding force retreats after clashing with the elves, and Elgahad prepares for the Tacenian attack.[/b]