Twin crescent moons shine dimly down on the snowy, muddy hilltop. Clouds born on the first winds of northern winter scud across the unnaturally dark sky. Atop the hill's crest crowds the army of the Beast, several hundred Vorghol, Tol Nedran spearmen and cavalry, plus a hundred Zimir, undead warriors from the old Crusade, resurrected from a nearby battlefield and sent into combat. And a mighty, undead soul colossus, a swirling, vaguely man-shaped vortex of green energy, each misty cloud another Northerling soul.
A region of magical daylight flares from the hilltop, driving back and blinding the majority of Vorghol officers. A core fights on, including Baron Thumgath the Beast. They prepare to sweep down on their enemies.
Opposing them: a force of Ressi Oathkeepers, led by their King, Garrovic, Reith militia, Urag warriors, and Northerlings. And you three, in the left flank, weapons ready. Yarga and his warriors are to your left; the Northerlings under Jenn-Dai to your right.
Thragga grins. "If you do not come back from this, Kane, what should I do with your body?"
Kane says, "Eat it for all I care. Don't fret so, green brother."
Thragga snorts. "Fret? Look before you! This is what we were born to do!"
Kane says, "Aye, that we were."
In the rear of the line, Ressi horns blow, calling the lines into formation.
Khom-Bei frowns and pulls a sharp wooden stake from his belt, "I have one of these for each of you. I hope that you each have one for me."
Thragga pulls out two stakes from his belt and holds them out to you. Kane does the same. The three solemnly swap stakes as an expression of solidarity, and stick them back into their belts.
Kane raises Light Bringer and shouts "To a clean death!"
Khom-Bei laughs and yells over the roar of the battle, "I prefer a clean life, Kane, but we will see what the night holds for us!"
Kane shrugs, "That, unfortunately, is a harder goal."
The Yaragai rhythmically beat on their shields with their hooked swords. They are painted for battle. Thrack! Thrack! Thrack!
Garrovic's sword falls. Ressi Horns blare. The green Ress banners flutter in the dark. The front of the Ress-led column charges uphill.
Kane shouts, "Forward lads, we don't want the Ress to take all the glory!"
The column surges forward. The Yaragai sprint up the hillside, hooting and shrieking like demons, led by their warleader and shaman, Yarga, towards the path of the swirling, glowing colossus.
Thragga holds his axe high and rages into battle. Kane holds Light Bringer high as he charges at Thragga's heels.Khom-Bei follows the surge of warriors uphill.
...and there's the crunch of metal on metal as the two lines meet. Steel meets steel; men and horses scream and die; hot blood spurts into the cool night air.
King Garrovic lays about him with his blade, and the Tol Nedran line sways.The knights of Ress smash the front of the Tol Nedran line at the very crest of the hill.
Kane lets out a battle cry "True death to all Vorghol!"
Panicked, the Tol Nedrans wheel to the left, into the face of your oncoming flank. In your path to the top now are a pack of spearmen, pale living Reith, and behind them, stumble undead, shambling shapes, with rotting armor, lipless smiles, and eyeless skulls.
Kane runs up to the first spearman and thrust his flaming sword at his stomach.Light Bringer's flaming blade cuts through the man's quilted armor, his midsection, and emerges from the far side. Two halves of the man slide in opposite directions, into the mud. Blood sprays Kane from head to toe.
The two youngest spearmen shriek in terror as Kane bisects their sergeant.
Khom-Bei's hammer smashes the ear of his foe, driving him back.
Thragga strikes the head from one of the terrfied spearmen. Mouth still open in mid-shriek, the head rolls across the muddy hillside and sinks like a stone into a mudhole.
The four survivors try to rally and impale each of you. The first man's spear catches Thragga under the ribs, but the Urag fights on.
Kane turns to the next spearman in reach and slashes high at his throat. He slashes the man's throat open, and the dying soldier topples into the mud at Kane's feet, to twitch and bleed out.
Behind the spearmen, the Zimir shamble forward, bony claws outstretched, rusty weapons slashing.
Khom-Bei's hammer whirls again, smashing his foe''s helmet and fragile skull beneath, sending fragments of bone and brain flying.
Thragga kicks his foe in the groin, doubling him up, then strikes his head off. He whirls on his next enemy. He swings with a double-handed grip, his axe planting deep in his foe's chest. The man tries to scream but his lungs are filled with blood. Thragga rips his axe free, shoves the dying man away, and whirls on the next spearman. He lops the leg off this one at the thigh. The man topples, gushing blood, screaming and dying. The Urag kicks him in the head to silence him for good.
Thragga roars, "Is that the best you got?"
The Zimir grope forward. Eight of them, in ancient Crusader armor, slash weapons and chatter fleshless jaws at you.
The Northerlings press forward behind you, pausing at the sight of this new foe.
Kane charges the lead skeletal warrior and plunges Light Bringer towards it's chest, "Back to the hell you crawled out!" of he yells.
On the hilltop, the Ress charge slows as the Zimir make way. The Ress horses scent the undead and you can hear panicked screams of horses and the men who try to control them.
Light Bringer shatters Kane's foe into splinters.
Khom-Bei extends his arms out toward the undead warriors, "Go back to your resting place!" Holy fire glows from the shaman's fingers. The squad of undead foe arrayed before you wither in the blinding holy light. Their bones burn to ash, their armor flakes and drops to the muddy ground.
The Northerlings behind you cheer at the sight.
Just ahead, right before the hilltop, there is a roar and a cry as two helmeted Ress knights fall back, their horses in a lather. One regains control, staying in the saddle; the other is unhorsed into the mud. The horse has landed atop him and he's pinned there. Four more Zimir advance on him.
Kane runs to cut off the Zimir, striking at the leader. His sword shatters the horrid undead thing, its dried bones scattering across the hillside.
Khom-Bei turns to face the Zimir advancing on the pinned knight, "Be gone, foul beasts!" Another flare of holy fire, and all four Zimir are obliterated, leaving only ash behind.
The horse gives a pitiful cry, its front legs broken in the fall.
The battle swirls about you.
The knight , still trapped under the dying horse, pushes his visor back. It's Ser Joric, covered with blood and sweat.
Kane says, "Thragga, help me with the horse." He moves to slide the horse off of Joric.
Thragga steps up behind the wounded, writhing animal and sinks his axe deep into its skull. The creature's struggles cease immediately. "This is why I do not ride, Kane..." he says, disapprovingly.
Kane says, "Hurry, help me move it off of Joric.""
The Urag shoulders his axe and bends to assist Kane. Grunting and groaning, the two move the massive carcass off the man's legs. His legs appear crushed by the landing, bent at ugly angles.
Joric swallows and nods in gratitude. He cannot manage words right now.
Kane turns to one of the big Northeners, "Rem-bai carry this man down from this hill, if you would, then rejoin us."
Khom-Bei steps forward and places his hands on Joric's twisted legs, "Spirits, ease this man's pain and heal his wounds that he may fight again."
Joric grasps Khom-Bei's shoulder. "The girl...look after her."
Divine light emanates from Khom-Bei's hands, seeping over Joric's legs. The light is the clear white of healing energy. Khom-Bei places his hand on Joric's shoulder, "You'll look after her yourself when this is over."
Joric can move his legs. Rem-bai the Northerling, a tall, strong warrior, comes to bear him away. The young knight tries to stand, but cannot. He can only look to Khom-Bei in gratitude as he is helped off.
There's a brief lull as the battle swirls. No one side has clear dominance. You take stock of the situation.
The Tol Nedrans still hold the heights. From the hilltop, they rally, Vorghol officers ordering a countercharge of spearmen. This is the flank nearest you and it seems paper-thin. In the center of the line, the great colossus moves forward, towards the center of the wedge, where the Ress colors flutter. The King and his bannermen gather together and ready their own charge on the abomination. On the far side of the field, near a stand of old trees, the Yaragai battle on, the Beast and Yarga engaged together in a mighty melee, swords clashing.
Kane looks to his Captains and says "We must reach the Vorghol. Once they are defeated the others will lose heart." He looks to Thragga and Khom-Bei. "We will charge to meet the spearmen the Vorghol have sent out. We will need to overwhelm them and move on to the Vorghol."
Jenn-Dai limps up to Khom-Bei, a wound in her bare thigh. She wraps it hurriedly, sitting down and taking a gulp of water from her skin. She has destroyed many Zimir herself, but a Tol Nedran spear caught her in the last charge.
Thragga cries. "I am ready!" He grips his axe with both fists.
Khom-Bei pauses a moment to speak with Jenn-dai, "Any word from Dai-thon?"
Jenn-Dai shakes her head. "I lost sight of him when the colossus came...my brave boy."
Kane points to the spearmen and says to Thragga, "They look weak towards the middle, I think we should strike there."
Harrion's men-at-arms and the Northerlings swarm behind you, ready for anything.
Thragga grunts at the assembled warriors, "All right, you heard the man! We form up now, we strike towards the middle! Follow me!"
The spearmen atop the hill race downslope, toward you, in a deadly phalanx of sharp spears. They are led by a tall Vorghol officer with a shock of white hair. He hisses and races forward with unnatural speed, towards Kane.
Kane charges forward and yells "True death to the Vorghol!"
Your column advances up the hill. The Tol Nedran spearmen and your warriors coming up the hill meet just below the hilltop with a mighty collision.
Kane charges the Vorghol commander and yells, "To hell with you, destroyer!", and at the same time Light Bringer flies towards his foe like a flaming arrow. His sword lances into the white-haired Vorghol's arm. Thragga barrels forward, hacking and slashing at the undead warrior as well.
As the two forces move to engage, Khom-bei raises his hands and calls out, "Leave this world to the living, Dark Ones!" His hands form a sheet of white flame, incinerating the white-haired Vorghol leader in a blaze. The leader steps back, his body writhing in agony, as he is destroyed. Behind him, five more Vorghol meet a similar fate, burning like torches for a brief moment before being extinguished.
The Tol Nedran charge falters as their Vorghol leaders are obliterated. Jenn-Dai's Northclanners close the range, and in a few moments, it's over. Swift and deadly Northerling swords and knives rise and fall. The narrow Tol Nedran line breaks, the Beast's warriors falling back under the onslaught.
The way to the hilltop is clear now. A short sprint and your column will command the heights.
Khom-Bei rushes to the hilltop and scans the field of battle for Thumgath and the necromancer's creation.
The mighty colossus stands astride the center of the line, a hundred yards off through the haze of battle. There's a cry, and you see King Garrovic seized bodily by the colossus and hurled through the air, and below him, the green banners of Ress crash to the ground as his bannermen are smashed. Rhyan calls out orders, rallies the troops, and takes command.
On the far side of the battle, The Yaragai are locked in a death struggle with the Beast and his Vorghol bodyguard.
Before you, on the far side of the hilltop. the Tol Nedran line is broken. The Tol Nedrans nearby retreat, routed. No more Zimir stumble the fielld. The Tol Nedran warriors cannot stand before you. There is nothing now between you and their camp...save one lone figure, in a hood. He advances slowly, from out of the dark woods, a long staff in his hands.
Khom-Bei points to the lone figure, "Kane! There is our target!"
Kane turns towards the hooded figure and yells, "Sharif, your days of destruction are over!"
Thragga spits and readies his assault.
Harrion, the Ress Captain, snaps out orders. His Ressi archers form a line, draw arrows, and open fire.
The lone figure levels his staff at them, and lightning leaps from it. The center of the archers' line is obliterated, men vanishing like smoke. Harrion staggers back, face scorched, skin hanging down from his cheeks, and collapses before Khom-Bei, burned to death.
Thunder peals across the hilltop.
The Northerlings cluster about, swords and daggers ready.
Kane heads towards Sharif, Light Bringer in hand.
Thragga is at Kane's shoulder. "Sharif!"
Khom-Bei races down the hill after Kane and Thragga, waving for his kinsmen to follow.
More Oathkeepers are charging up the hilltop, on horseback, towards your group, led by a fat knight in heavy armor.
Khom-Bei points to the necromancer, "Garvin, he cannot get us all, we must strike now!"
Garvin's men approach the hilltop. "Aye, lad! Forward!" Garvin commands his knights. The entire body of warriors storms forward. Northerlings, Ress men-at-arms, and Oathkeepers on horseback.
Flames leap from the staff, burning down a crowd of Northerlings.
The hooded figure cries: "Sharif! Sharif was a fool! He is no longer here...you came too late, Kane."
Thragga hisses, "He was our comrade, you filth!"
Kane draws back Light Bringer, then charges the mage thrusting his blade forward. As Kane charges, Sharif steps back nimbly and points the long black staff at him. A pea sized ball of fire streaks from the end. The fireball explodes in midair, illuminating the battle with unearthly orange light in a massive explosion.
Thragga takes the fireball full in the face. He is blown backwards, armor and face singed.
The explosion catches Kane in the chest and knocks him off his feet. Kane's cloak catches fire and he quickly rolls to put it out.
Thragga rolls to his feet, shaking his head. He hisses, "He was our comrade...We will not let you take him..."
The blast has scorched the nearby trees, scattered the troops and checked Garvin's charge.
Khom-Bei steps forward to Kane and touches his shoulder, "Pass safely through this fire, Kane."
Sharif's once-friendly face is withered and aged. He still moves as a young man, but his skin is pitted with years. He laughs. "Such a pitiful sight! Sharif's friends, come to rescue him...His mind is still in me, the weakling. But soon he will be gone completely..." He gestures with the staff: "Behold! We have already slain the King of Ress! And soon my ally will crush Yarga as well. There will be nothing to stand in the way of us between here and the Balagrims!"
Garvin orders his men to form for another charge.
As Kane stands and again thrusts Light Bringer at the mage, "Nothing but my steel. I shall not let you have Sharif, destroyer."
Xoth evades Kane's blow with the speed of a much younger man. He raises his staff on high to strike at Kane, then pauses. He stumbles backwards a moment, holding his head. His voice changes. "Kane...I cannot hold him back long..."
Thragga is on his feet and rages forward, hacking down with all the fury he can muster.
Xoth, not evading now, takes Thragga's blow full in the chest, stumbling backwards. The axe has done little damage, and Xoth shakes his head, scowling at the Urag.
Kane shouts, "Sharif, fight the demon!"
Sharif shrieks, "No! You pathetic fool! I have triumphed!" He seems wracked by some inner turmoil, ignoring you all for a moment.
Khom-Bei raises his hands high, "Spirits grant us the will to fight this evil!"
Sharif holds out the staff before Kane, eyes imploring the man in black.
Garvin roars, "Now, lads, kill th'bastard!" The Oathkeepers spur forward, with roars.
Kane takes Light Bringer in two hands and charges Xoth, "Sharif, my friend you shall be missed!" and then slashes at the staff. Light Bringer cuts clear through the moonwood staff.
There's a flash. White light spills from the staff. The necromancer staggers back, shrieking, "No!!!"
The staff breaks open and a torrent of energy spills forth, knocking you all back, even the charging knights. Heat and light cascades over the hilltop. You are all knocked senseless a moment. The necromancer's struggling form can still be seen in the light, in agony.
Garvin topples from his horse. The knights rein in, held back by the energy. Thragga falls back, dropping his axe. The Northerlings hurl themselves to the ground, terrified.
Khom-Bei ducks to the ground, shielding his eyes.
Kane tries to crawl forward hoping beyond all hope that his friend Sharif can still be saved.
The white light changes to red. It blazes forth, angrily, and sudden, swift flames consume the staff, and then the man in the light. Kane is nearly in the epicenter. He falls back, the heat too much for anyone to bear.
You're all blinded for a moment, with red lights still imprinted on your vision. And when you blink, and look again, nothing remains of the necromancer. Only a circle of ashes in the ground before you. And silence.
Thunder peals across the hilltop again. The colossus pauses as it is about to smash the center of the Reith line.
Garvin rolls to his feet, nimble for a fat man, aiding Kane to stand.
Kane takes Garvin's hand and somehow gets to his feet.
Khom-Bei stands and looks around to see if the colossus still exists after its' creator is gone.
In the night, dawn appears over the nearest hillside. It arrives as a fissure in the darkness, first a pink flame, then wider, then spilling over all of you, a view to another world, a world of daylight that has seemed years away.
A cheer goes up from the Ress. The Beast stands over Yarga, about to strike him down for good, laughing madly, and suddenly his demeanor changes as daylight arrives.
The colossus begins to unravel. The creature staggers. The separate threads of the vortex peel off, the creature losing substance as it dissapates. A sudden voice comes to Khom-Bei. "We go, now, kinsmen, to the fields of the ancestors!" It's Dhor-Shai.
The sun peers over the eastern hills. A beam seemingly sharp as a lance sweeps over the Vorghol.
Garvin grins at Kane as he supports him.
The Ress cheer. Horns blow, wildly, in triumph. The Tol Nedrans fall back for good this time, but there is no hiding from the light of the sun.
Kane turns to Garvin and says "Now there is a prayer answered."
Khom-Bei smiles as he bends to gather a handful of earth, speaking in a nearly silent voice, "Go with good speed, old friend, and give greetings to my clan."
Dhor-Shai does not answer in words, but Khom-Bei gets the clear sense of contentment and release.
The Beast races to the top of the hill, sword in both hands. He snarls at Kane, Khom-Bei and the others when the light catches him. Then he laughs, the laugh of madness, the laugh of pure malevolence. He laughs and laughs, merrily, as if at some private joke. He catches fire from his red hair first, burning, roaring, laughing as the flames lick at his undead flesh, consuming him. He's still laughing when he finally explodes into dust.
The other Vorghol catch fire across the hillside, shrieking in terror, flames licking at them, consuming them, cleansing the hillside, as the sun climbs in the east.
Khom-Bei steps forward and spits onto the ground where The Beast last stood.
Kane looks about him and says, "It's about time that one finally died."
The Ress make short work of their foes. The living Tol Nedrans, leaderless now, hurl down their weapons and hold hands high in surrender.
Thragga roars beside Khom-Bei, reaching for the buttons of his fly.
Garvin hoots as he embraces Kane, swinging him around easily as if Kane were a child. Kane is still somewhat blinded from the blazing necrofire.
Thragga undoes his fly and urinates where Khom-Bei spat. A long stream of golden Urag piss arcs out into the sunrise. He sighs in relief. "Been waiting for hours to do that!" He chortles, pulls some jerky from his pouch, and stuffs his maw.
Khom-Bei silently begins to walk the Circle, chanting softly to himself and casting trails of earth to the four winds. Jenn-Dai joins Khom-Bei in his rite, offering her voice in supplication.
Rhyan and his Oathkeepers gallop up the hillside. "Kane? The necromancer?" the Castellan asks.
Kane says, "Gone. Devoured by his own evil magic. When I broke his staff the power surged forth and consumed him...his own energy ate him alive."
Rhyan says, "You're sure?"
Kane turns to Rhyan and says, "All gone, turned to ashes. This hill is covered with ashes."
Rhyan nods, grimly. "And blood. The blood of a King, as well."
Kane looks into the sunrise and says, "Peace always comes at a great cost, and its currency is always blood."
A cold morning sun rises over the quiet Morden Vale. The battle is over, the hillside a wreck of mud, blood, dead bodies, parts of men and horses, and ashes from the undead.
The victorious Ress knights herd chained Tol Nedran captives west, towards the fortresses of the Westwall. Others--Ressi, Northerling, and Urag--hunt for survivors and loot, and swap tales of the battle...and they number their dead.
Soon, pyres will be kindled, to deny the undead overlords of Tol Nedra any rising of what was slain today.
As the hillside is slowly cleared of friend and foe, no one notices the small circle of ashes where Sharif met his demise. A tiny pall of smoke hangs there, perhaps a morning vapor, perhaps not. It wavers in the rising breeze, then wafts off gently, borne by the winds of daybreak, high above the Vale and far away.
After the battle at Morden Vale, you spend a few days at Castle Eryth as guests of the Ressi, resting and recharging. There is much to do...heal wounds, number the dead, and swap tales of the battle. And there is King Garrovic's funeral. He is given a grand pyre in the style of his ancestors, and the Oathkeepers bow their heads in solemn salute to their sovereign.
Even Garvin has no mirth for this moment.
As the flames consume the body of the King, an Oathkeeper chaplain speaks a short prayer to the Warrior, for guidance as the King's soul travels to the Far Fields.
As the flames rise, Khom-bei bows his head low, "Welcome him, ancestors, he was a brave and noble warrior when his people needed him."
Kane kneels and bows his head in respect of the fallen King. He muses to himself how it is strange that the man who was so disdained in life has become so beloved in death.
Thragga, for his part, keeps his own counsel. bowing silently.
When the pyre grows cold, the King's bannermen, led by Ser Joric, mount up to ride for the distant capital of Fort Winter, to bring news to Ress that the land's King is dead. The reins of power will now be held by Queen Camiel. Garrovic has two sons, too young to assume the throne.
As the bannermen mount up, a slight dark figure canters up on a small steppe pony beside Ser Joric. Dhar-bo, her hair pinned back, smiles at Khom-Bei.
From his swift charger, the young Ser Joric offers a handclasp down to each of you, even Thragga. He seemed a callow youth a few days ago, but has aged years since then. Perhaps he has some measure of wisdom now.
Khom-Bei smiles at Dhar-bo, "Ride safely, sister, and find happiness."
Kane takes Joric's hand and says, "Good luck lad. These are trying times ahead and Ress will need good men like yourself."
Dhar-bo seems like she doesn't know to say. "I thank you, brother."
Ser Joric says, "I wish you all luck... You will always have friends in Ress."
Then he and the twenty other bannermen turn and ride off through the Castle gates. Dhar-bo, on a swift bay gelding, glances back briefly at Khom-Bei and then the riders are gone.
In the courtyard, Yarga scowls as the bannermen ride off. He and his warriors are ready to continue their endless war on the Vorghol. He bears the Beast's huge darksteel sword now, sheathed over his back. Arms folded, he nods. "Thragga, if you wish to join a real band of warriors....you may run with us."
Thragga frowns. "I already have a warband, chieftain." He claps his hands on Kane and Khom-Bei's shoulders. "Besides, it is my task to keep them from trouble."
Khom-Bei steps forward and laughs loudly at Yarga's words, "We were thinking of making you the same offer, mighty Hammer of the North! But we would make a poor anvil for one of such strength."
Kane offers Yarga his hand and says, "Good hunting, Hammer of the north."
Yarga throws back his head and laughs. This is the first time you've heard this, and the sound is unpleasant. Like rocks rolling downhill towards you. "Fate decrees we will meet again! Until then...stay out of Yarga's way!"
Kane nods to to the great Urag chief and says "Until then."
With a mighty whoop, the Urag warband moves out, into the deep forests before the Castle. Jenn-Dai stands near Khom-Bei, watching the noisy Urag sprint off. She asks quietly, "What for you now, last of the Cold Wind?"
Dai-thon is nearby his mother. He bears many trophies taken from the Tol Nedrans, including a fine pair of daggers.
Khom-Bei turns to Jenn-dai with a slight frown, "I must continue with my journey, Jenn-dai."
Jenn-dai says, "As must we all. May I advise you?"
Khom-Bei bows his head slightly in respect, "Please, Jenn-dai, your counsel is always welcome."
The older shaman says, maternally, "Do not become what you behold."
Khom-Bei raises his eyes to meet hers and nods, ever so slightly, in understanding, "I have not been a good son. My father's words have been too long from my ears. I will seek him out."
The older shaman says no more. She simply nods to Kane and Thragga before moving off. Dai-thon explains, "Mother says, there is no welcome for us in Tol Nedra any longer. We go to the prairies to the west, where the Urag wander. Seek us out there, should your journey take you back to your kin."
Khom-Bei extends his hand to Dai-thon, "If I survive the journey, I will always return to my kin, Dai-thon. Your camp will be the first I look for."
Kane nods to the Northeners and says, "The Vorghol are no fit masters. Thankyou for your bravery and sacrifice." The Northerners depart, in their way, the clans slipping away through the front gate.
And now it is your turn. Your horses shoed and fed, treated with the greatest of care the Ress can provide to these revered animals, your saddlebags full, Castellan Rhyan and Ser Garvin turn out to see you off from the Castle gate.
Garvin gives Khom-Bei a big embrace. "Lad, the days're too short! But what merry havoc we did to the Coldies, eh?"
Khom-Bei smiles and clasps the shoulder of the round knight, "Havoc, indeed. Try to keep your blood inside your skin while I'm not here to patch you up, old man."
Garvin chuckles. "Old man? Disrespectful youth, y'are. Thragga, if this boy gives you any trouble, spank him f'r me. Loosen his teeth!"
Thragga snorts.
Kane offers Garvin his hand, "Take care Garvin. It has been an honor to serve with you."
Garvin embraces Kane, too, with a laugh, and then Thragga. "The Protector go wi'each of you, lads."
Rhyan clasps hands with Kane, forearm to forearm. "Oathkeepers never forget a friend, Kane."
Kane looks Rhyan in the eye and says, "And neither shall I. This is but one battle, the war is still not won. Be sure we will meet again."
Rhyan nods. "If you need anything, just ask. Fare well, friends."
Kane says, "Farewell good knight."
Khom-Bei turns to Thragga, "Do we have food for the journey? Or will I have to spend the whole time chasing rabbits for you?"
Thragga tests the weight of each pouch on his hips. Sausages, black bread, dried meats, and other foodstuffs jam them full. He considers. "This should last a few days."
Khom-Bei grabs the Castellans arm and speaks softly to him, "Fare well, Castellan. Keep an eye out for my kinswoman, please. I trust young Joric, but things happen to young men during wartime."
Rhyan nods. "I'll send word to my kin in Fort Winter for news of them both, Khom-Bei."
Khom-Bei bows his head, "Thank you."
The great Castle gates are still being repaired, but the work crews make space for you to depart through the opening.
Khom-Bei jumps up onto his pony and turns toward the gates, raising his arm in salute, "Knights of Ress, the Clans of the North do not forget your sacrifice or your honor! We Guard!"
The cry goes up from the walls. "We guard! We guard!"
Kane climbs into his saddle and follows Khom-Bei out the gate.
Horns blow from the Castle rooftop in farewell salute.