Subject - The retreat

The battle weary Verminasians push their limits to make time between them and the city of Arkane. They are now one days march to their city gates and are starting to relax a bit. Then the message is received. "Word from our eyes to the south, my general, " the messenger said as he hands Arakayd the rolled up parchment and places the pigeon in its cage.

Arakayd unrolls the parchment and reads, a look of alarm on his face. Swiftly he issues orders and the Verminasian army comes to a halt. Archers notch there bows awaiting the inevitable. Then, out of the misty night, they see it. Marauder knights bear down on them at full charge, their mounts foaming from the hard ride.

The archers unleash their arrows sending a devastating swarm into the midst of the knights, bringing down a large amount of them. But it is not enough. The Knights are upon them with an almost sinister speed. The first line of archers is cut down without any chance of retreat.

Arakayd rallies his soldiers and advance on the now engaged knights. "Where is that damn escort," he mutters.

Just then, in the distance, he hears it, the welcome horn blasting from the east.