No clashes of steel on steel this morning. No screams of rage and pain, except maybe in the healers tents. Early in the morning, the leaders met. It would appear that a war started years ago held little meaning anymore and a cease fire was issued. All forces withdrew. The goblins and the New Thalosians all headed to their respective kingdoms. A peace filtered through the tired, yet jubilant forces, then a sorrow at seeing all that had fallen in such a needless battle, and then compounded sorrow. For word reaches everyone at the news. The transport ship, carrying troops to Arkane had been sunk. All aboard are assumed dead. All, that is, but one man. His name is Culain. He was picked up by the Undauntable and speeded to safety. The pirates opted not to give chase so they might attempt to salvage any loot aboard the sinking ship. Unfortunately for them, they were too late as well. A feat started many years before, catastrophic in its losses and painful to all who beheld it, had finally come to an end. What will the future hold? How will nations recover from a treachery almost forgotten and then thrust back into the faces of a world that had known peace?

Time will tell... time will tell.