Battle of the Frontiers Intro
A lone sorceress confidently walked through the warcamp towards the commander’s tent. All eyes were drawn to her, all eyes save for those of the commander. Stooped over maps of southern Ulthuan, he paid no attention to the approaching figure.
“Commander, you will break camp immediately and head east,” the sorceress said in a calm voice.
Surprised as the insolence of her tone, Beastlord Janareth raised his eyes towards the figure standing before him as his lips twisted into a frown. “Break camp now when the battle is almost won? Women do not belong at the strategy table, begone wench!”
Ignoring his remark the sorcress continued in her calm voice, “Dragonwake will not determine the outcome of this war. We shall strike at the heart and cease wasting time and resources over these barren crags.”
“By whose authority do you dare come here and uproot the entire host of House Uthorin?!” the irritated dark elf spat out. “My divisions are poised to deal the fatal blow to the Shining Guard here in Dragonwake and leave the road to Lothern open.”
“You see, this useless bantering is a good example of wasting time… question me one more time and those words will be your last.”
“I’ll teach you to sheath your tongue, harlot,” Beastlord Janareth sneered as his hand darted to the dagger at his hip.
“Though not a question, I’ll make an exception for you,” the sorceress said lunging her fingers at the beastlord’s throat, punching through the skin. She wrapped her icy fingers around his trachea before he could react and wretched it out. The beastlord crumpled to the ground choking on his own blood. “Malekith mentioned your stubbornness and ire… I suppose he wont mind your untimely downfall,” the sorceress said with a smirk looking down upon the writhing dark elf. She turned to the dark elf who had been strategizing with Beastlord Janareth before her arrival. “Commander, you shall break camp immediately and march east for Eataine.”
Immediately understanding his ill-gotten promotion and the consequences of discussion, the dark elf quickly nodded saying, “It shall be as you say.”
“Commander, the druchii are breaking camp,” a young high elf scout said gasping for breath as he ran into the Shining Guard warcamp in Dragonwake.
Raising his eyebrows, the likewise young commander replied, “No doubt retreating… it seems we’ve broken the druchii’s backs. Very well, muster our forces. We shall follow the passes west into Caledor and cut the druchii off in their retreat. Nary a soul shall reach the black ark.”