Night. A truly frightening time of the day. As thousands of troops filed into the settlement, hundreds of pairs of black, white and grey eyes stared menacingly from the darkness, watching with hunger at the procession of might moving past them. With fangs bared, one of them drew closer, still hiding in the shadows, as he neared with his dagger readied. Silently, he signaled his companions, who readied their weapons as well.
The first sound the soldiers heard was the "twang" of bow strings and the "swish" of arrows flying. Thousands of the crystal-tipped projectiles rained down on the unsuspecting men, many effortlessly punching through their armor. Suddenly, as the column of soldiers tried to recover from the unseen attack, one of the figures in the shadows yelled proudly.
"Saltano-malcha!" Without further warning, the hidden warriors leapt onto the invading masses. The sound of blades clashing, of armor clanging, of crystal energy crackling... all of it was drowned out by the screams of agony. As the tower shields of the well-armed intruders fell to the ground loudly, the defenders hacked into their prey without mercy.
"They're everywhere! Fall back!" The troop's commander quickly abandoned his subordinates to save his own skin, only to be knocked from his mount and land flat on his back in the mud below. With an eerie silence, one warrior, a long scar over his left eye, stood over the veteran officer.
"Please... we both want the same thing, here..."
"I doubt that very seriously... what you want is an obedient soldier..."
"And what is it you want?"
"...freedom..." The tall, grey-skinned warrior suddenly slashed the officer's throat, spilling his blood onto the loose cobblestones of the town square. His fellows cheered loudly as the others retreated through the city gates; they had won an important victory...
...but the fight had only just begun...
