And Tarithnesti Will Answer...

07 Deepkolt 349 AC

THE MARCH WEST

Raven stopped long enough to pick up two skins of water and some waybread on his path out of town. The first few hours were quiet, almost peaceful, especially compared to the chaos of the morning.

The forests of Silvanesti had always carried sound differently. They were designed and sculpted to channel the whisper of leaves and the distant calls of birds, combining them into a musical backdrop.

Now there was only the wind.

Raven moved through the trees at a pace no normal soldier could maintain. His boots carried him over roots, uneven ground, and steep slopes. The subtle enchantments woven into their soles refused to let exhaustion claim him.

But they did not make the journey easy.

Raven passed several homesteads early on, including the one where he, Ra'ziir, and Grotto defeated a platoon of Baaz Draconians and Stone Giants. It felt like months had passed but it had only been a few hours.

Not long after that, he spotted a hunter's shack, or what remained of it. The walls had been collapsed by a boulder. Three elves lay dead inside, their final moments preserved in the ruin. He kept going. The sun crept toward the far horizon.

Darkness fell. Moonlight filtered through the branches in pale silver streams. Shadows stretched between the trunks. He crossed streams whenever possible to conceal his tracks. Aches and pains began to announce themselves because there was no battle to distract him from his injuries. The deep soreness from being struck out of the sky by the green dragon. The memory of claws tearing across his armor.

He kept marching.

Meanwhile, back in town, Cedron and Grotto tended the wounded. The dwarf grumbled some about missing out on all of the "good" fighting, ribbing the priest of Malazzarr over his slaying of a dragon just hours earlier. Shadow’s summoned angels had expended their healing magic and Commander Parnitha, Bubo, and Dusk were all the better for it.

That didn't stop the dwarf from grumbling, "Nothing as exciting as an escort quest. Got teleported to the cave with GreenBeans. Be jealous! I killed a handful low level cannon fodder! That surely turned the tide of the battle. Who cares about the old stupid dragons? Didn't sound cool anyhow. Nope not at all!!"

The dark elf also sifted through the magical accouterments taken from Flight Marshal Chomax and the Baaz who had nearly brought down the Protector's Tower. The draconian's Fireball necklace went to Cedron, a little something to augment his offensive options.

Cedron sat down and cast a powerful divination before resting. “What adversaries do we face in Sithelnost?”

A ghostly voice responded, "The city is now clad in green. Giants guard fallen heroes. Scaled ones enforce the conqueror's will. Great wings command all within their shadow but the greatest enemy is the hand that guides that shadow."

With the Protector's Tower still standing but heavily damaged, Commander Parintha had moved what remained of her command post to a crystal shop by the river. Broken glass has been swept aside, the door hung loosely on broken hinges. The smell of smoke, blood, and ozone still hung heavily in the air.

Garrick Voss was escorted inside between two elven guards. Romulus walked in behind him, bare feet padding quietly on the scorched earth.

Parintha stood behind the old merchant's counter, a stack of reports beside her. For a moment, she simply looked at the Dragon Rider. "Name?"

The officer frowned, "You already have it." There was a slight pause and then he sighed, "Garrick Voss. Rider of the 2nd Green Dragonwing."

Parnitha nodded. "Your forces attacked Sithelnost. How many?"

"Commander, is it? Do you think I am going to give you the strength of my army?"

Romulus leaned forward. "You misunderstand your position. You are not protecting secrets for a coming invasion. Your forces have already taken the city. Nothing we know will change that now."

Voss thought about that for a second. "Very well, Sithelnost was assigned to the 2nd Green Flight, commanded by Flight Marshal Guilerth."

Romulus nods, "Continue..."

Garrick goes on, "The force was built around three elements. The 7th Green Dragonarmy. Draconian infantry, the 8th Green Scourge and 9th Ravagers of Kern."

Parintha looked to Romulus. "Ogres."

Garrick nods, "and two adult green dragons from the 2nd Green Dragonwing."

"How large was your army?" Romulus asks.

"Four hundred soldiers, more or less, depending on injuries from previous battles," came the smooth reply.

Voss continued, "We expected light resistance. Our scouts reported that the majority of the population had been evacuated south so we decided a two-pronged attack was in order. The majority of our land forces would be assigned to Sithelnost, air forces to Tarithnesti. We knew the beacon atop your Tower was magical, but not what it could do so additional dragons were allotted for its destruction."

Parintha leaned forward, "And what of prisoners captured in Sithelnost?"

"If Guilerth is following doctrine..." Garrick thought for a second, "...the Gallery of Heroes. Put them on display, keep them out in the open. The weather should keep them too concerned with not freezing to death to plot an escape."

SITHELNOST

08 Newkolt 349 AC

The first light of dawn crept across the horizon behind him. The trees started to thin out as the land opened up. He began to see bright conical roofs of Sithelnost rising above the trees. Raven also saw banners that did not belong - Green and black Dragonarmy banners hanging from Elven towers and homes.

At the heart of the city was the Gallery of Heroes. A long avenue paved in pale stone, stretching beneath the ancient trees, lined with towering statues of Silvanesti champions. Each statue was more than a monument. They were reminders of what the nation expected of them. The statues remained. The Dragonarmy had not destroyed them. But, they did not spare them out of respect. They spared them because they found another use.

Elven prisoners were chained to the statues' pedestals. Wounded elves hung against the stone foundations of the heroes who came before them. Nearly every one bore injuries from the battle. Faces were exhausted from pain and fear.

The Dragonarmy had positioned them beneath the statues deliberately. The greatest heroes of Silvanesti standing above the defeated.

Towering ogres walked amongst the prisoners. Their heavy weapons rested against their shoulders as they watched the avenue. Raven cursed under his breath. He hadn't anticipated ogres. Their presence forced him to change his entire plan. The moment Thorgrim left its sheath, the curse would awaken. The blade would demand its purpose. The wielder would be driven into a berserker fury until every giant in view was dead. He wouldn't be able to stop fighting or move to protect a threatened prisoner or focus on the dragon and its master when they arrived.

He took a breath and sent his thoughts along the mindlink to Ra'ziir. "I am in position. Scry me but do not teleport in until you see the dragon. I'm about to kick the hornet nest."

Back in Tarithnesti, Kysek took time to talk to Dusk. “I know things did not go as intended, girl. We were caught off guard trying to reach the city.” He stroked her cheek as he spoke, “We'll be better prepared this time. Granted; I have no idea what we’re teleporting into. We will be prepared. You will be protected as well. The people are counting on us. We must defend them.” 

The griffon made a low screech, head bobbing in agreement.

Ra’ziir relayed to Shadow, “He’s in position, but advised we NOT teleport in until we see the dragon…”

A few feet away, Shadow stood behind the counter of the makeshift command center and carefully wrapped the single black hair Raven had given him around the crystal ball on the end of his staff and began to chant. His spell reached outward across seventy-five miles of forest, seeking the head of the elf the hair had come from.

The fog inside of the crystal ball began to clear and shapes emerged. Ancient trees covered in snow, bright roofs rising beyond the forest. Then, the Gallery of Heroes. Stone champions of the elves standing over rows of wounded prisoners chained to their bases.

Ogres walked amongst the statues and at the edge of the avenue stood Raven.

"Got him," Shadow announced. He held the crystal so the other wizards could look.

Parnitha craned her neck, trying to get a look. "What do you see?"

Without looking up, Shadow replied, "Sithelnost. And Raven, about to start a war."