Galia Nailow leans back against the great oak and lets the tears fall from her eyes, “Mother please guide me along the path I am lost and without purpose since being dumped upon these strange shores”. Sighing heavily Galia straightens her cloak and curls up deep into the roots of the oak, her eyes becoming heavy with grief as the weariness of the past calls out to her.
Galia stands high on the ridge; she scans the valley below and the mighty host that has gathered there to pay homage to Gornock, high priest and ultimate commander of the force of the Fallen.
“When will the attack begin strike leader?” Jairal whispers into the night air as he to scans the army below.
“Soon my love, soon” she points to the ridge on the other side of the valley,
“We must wait upon the White Arm to ready its self” she then points to the west and the valley below “Also we wait upon the Spear to be correctly placed, for they are the key to this whole campaign” her hand reaches out and gently squeezes his “All will be well my love, vengeance will be ours, I promise you”
Letting go of his hand she turns and surveys those gathered under her command, one hundred archers of the Golden Arm stand before her, with backs straight and proud faces they also stare at the mighty horde with definite eyes. Bows causally leaning against their sides each one turns and looks upon Galia and smiles as she walks among them.
“Be strong, be proud, for we stand at the edge of darkness, it is our duty to let the light shine” she whispers to the Arm,
“We serve the light so one day we may walk in the light” they whisper into the darkness, nodding to them she repeats the oath before returning to stand next to Jairal.
“Do not fear Galia they will do you proud as they always have” His fingers brushes her cheek as his scans the horizon. “There, the signal has been given” he whispers to her. High in the night sky a flaming arrow arcs over the host, it is clearly visible to all those above and below.
“Dam it, he was not supposed to do that, ready bows the element of surprise has been lost” She commands the Golden Arm, as one bows lift, arrows are notched and young accolades run along and light the tips of half the Arm, the others have smalls cylinders of oil attached to the arrows.
Below the mighty host roars as they spy the flaming arrow, quickly the chants die down as the war drums strike up a steady beat. Gornock can be seen commanding his troops, sending archers to the back and shield bearers to the front, immediately behind them are the dreaded Spear of the Dark. The host slowly organises it selves.
“We must strike now while they are disorganised” she quickly scans the other ridge and smiles as she sees they are also ready, with a chopping motions she commands the battle to commence.
As one the Golden and White Arms release their arrows and quickly notch and fire the next, gone is the flaming arrows to be replaced with poisoned ones instead
A fiery death rains down upon the host and explodes upon their armour as the cylinders break upon impacted. Screams of terror echo up the valley and wash over the Golden Arm,
“Steady now, this is for the light” Galia calls to the Arm as their faces reflect the horror of what carnage they are causing.
“Selected targets, the Spear is ready to strike” She points with her bow to the west as the Spear burst from the forest and fall upon the host. The battle is truly joined and chaos rains in the valley below, above high on the ridges the two Arms continue to fire volley after volley into the enemy host, their accuracy deadly.
“We are winning Galia, look how they fall back from the Spear, their archers all but destroyed, this day will be ours” he shouts above the battle, Galia merely nods as she continues to direct the Arm.
Horns sound to the east and more drums strike up a war beat, hundreds upon hundreds of the Fallen can be seen coming over the crest of the valley,
“Dam it they were supposed to be taken care off, seems Calais did not reach them in time.” Galia scans the field below “This is going to be a slaughter, signal the retreat” she calls to Jairal, turning he notches and draws, an golden arrow arcs high into the night and bursts into a dazzling golden light.
“Jairal take half the Arm and rain death down upon those in the east I cover the Spear as it retreats”
Shouting commands Jairal gathers his Hand of archers and heads to the far end of the ridge, Galia smiles proudly as Jairal runs of to do he bidding, turning she orders her half to cover the Spear as it retreats.
“Forced retreat, you know the drill, break and form ranks, cover the Spear until they get into the forest, then return fire upon the main host and slow them down” Galia commands her Hand and watches as they break in five units, each now working independently of each other.
Nodding once to them she turns to see how Jairal and his Hand are going, standing amongst his men Jairal is at one with the bow, no unnecessary movements, just notch, draw and fire, two arrows to everyone his troops release. A single tear runs down Galia cheek at the pure beauty of the elf,
“The Light surely blessed me”, wiping the tear away she watches a while longer before returning and joining her Hand in the retreat.
The Spear has found the cover of the forest as the horde falls prey to the traps left for just such a situation. Horns sound down below and the horde stops it pursuit, what is left of hordes archers fire upon those of the ridge, many arrows fall sort but some hit the targets, “Full retreat, bows down, head to Sky Pass” She orders her Hand before calling over to Jairal.
Time seems to slow down as she turns and sees Jairal struck by an arrow, the impact is so violent that it knocks him from his feet and sends him flying back into the Hand, screaming out in anguish Galia runs to his side “Oh my love what have you gotten yourself into” she says as she gathers him in her arms.
Holding him gently she inspects the wound, grimacing she calls out to one of the Hand, “Get the stretchers bearers for Jairal and the others that have fallen” She commands as she smiles down at Jairal, “Merely a flesh wound my love, you will survive another day” He groans as he smiles back up at her “Alas my love for it is not my way to die in the arms of my lover”, she hushes him with s single kiss and turns to one of the Arm, “Look after him, I will see to the others” She passes him over and starts to drag others away from the ridge.
Suddenly the man next to her falls with an axe in his back, “There behind us, quick gather the wounded and make a full retreat” she shouts to those left of the Arm.
Turning she looks for Jairal amongst the carnage, “No, No” She screams as she watches the man guarding him slain by one of the Fallen, others grab Jairal start to drag him off. Quickly Galia notches her bow and takes the first two down, as she spies the third she is knocked off her feet, groaning she loses grip of her bow as she goes down in a mass of arms and legs,
“Sorry Strike leader, but you were about to lose you head to one of the fallen, come quick the ridge is lost we must hurry before we are taken”, nodding Galia surveys the ridge and realises that it is truly lost, many of the Arm lay dead around her as the Fallen swarm up over the ridge and out of the forest, her eyes seek out Jairal and she moans inwardly as she watches him been taken over the edge by some of the Fallen
“This is a dark day Merva, we were overly proud in our abilities and under estimated the cunning of the Fallen”, tears well in her eyes as she watches her lover disappear from view. “The battle is lost and so is Jairal” Her voice is weak as she gathers herself and crawls of into the forest….
Slowly coming to Galia reaches out to the great oak and cries out “Jairal my love…” before grief over comes her again and she falls into a deep sleep.
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