My dearest Damaedria…
I am writing to you in this time of great sorrow for I fear I will never see you again. I am aware that this is a most morbid way to think, but I only write the truth. Our crusade of these lands has so far been torturous, and difficult.
My dear friends Quentin and Dy'al assure me that our battle tomorrow will turn out in our favour… but I am not so convinced as they.
Today we went up against the undead forces, with the aid of the Brettonians and our brethren of the wood. Their arrows were true, and many of the zombies fell to their steel-tipped rain of death. The Brettonians have several units of devastating cavalry, with lances so strong that as soon as they struck the skeleton lines, bones shattered, littering the ground. These cavalry ride horses that seem as though made of stone. The powerful steeds gallop hard, and destroy all in their path, but are not as elegant, or graceful as our fine mounts.
And because of these fine armies, we were successful against the undead masses.
The elves of Loren wood are rather solemn, and keep pretty much to themselves, but they fight hard. They have brought with them beasts known as treemen, huge monsters that walk upright as men do, with huge limbs of timber, and a grip like a dragon's maw.
I only hope that our battle against the greenskins will go as well.
I cannot wait to once again look upon your beautiful face, wife. To look into your eyes, so full of life and hope… something I have not found much of these past few days. I grow sad at the thought of being away from you for so long, but every time I close my eyes, I see you, smiling at me, telling me… rather, insisting to me that everything will be fine. I trust in your guidance, which I seek often in my mind, and it has helped me through these difficult times of hardship and pain.
I have managed to go unscathed myself, rather miraculously, but I am sorry to report that our good friend Omadara was badly wounded by the undead masses, and Teclis claims he will be lucky to see our beautiful shores again.
This news saddens me, and I pray for him, and comfort him in his times of need. It is good for him to know someone is there to help him, keep him company, and lighten his spirits. I remind him of such times when we were happier, such times as the wonderful days of celebration where Tyrion would hold great tournaments and races. I remember winning one of these races atop Val'ran. My faithful steed is still here with me, and he has fared just as well as I, perhaps even better. He seems happy… almost. When he sees me sad, he will comfort me, remind me of home… remind me of you.
But for now, my darling wife Damaedria, I am afraid I shall have to cease my writing, for we have to depart early in the morning, and a good night's rest is required before the battle against the Dark Elves of Naggaroth.
Forever your loving, loyal husband
Eiselbahr
It was a rainy day, again. As Eiselbahr walked across their camping grounds, he realised it had rained almost every damned day since they had started out on this 'mission'. It wasn't a mission as such, more of a crusade, to purge this land of evil. So far, they had managed to wipe out a considerable amount of the undead masses.
The vampires had been the worst.
Eiselbahr remembered graphically, and far too clearly, watching the monsters drain the life out of at least seven of the Dragon Princes he had been riding with. They had been physically torn out of their saddles, gripped in a hold that was seemingly unbreakable, and practically eaten… rather, drank alive. After that, he had watched as they rose again from the ground where they had fallen, and turn on their own kind. The vampires had turned them. Their eyes had sunken into their heads, their faces drawn in a horrible grimace of pain and torment, their mouths gaping, as if yearning for fresh blood.
Eiselbahr had had to kill those elves… to free them from their new form of tortured existence.
His throat closed up at the thought, and he was forced to stop, and lean against a tree for support.
To his surprise, the tree moved, turning to face him. It seemed to rumble a growl.
"Oh," Eiselbahr mumbled to it, removing his gloved hand from its bark, "pardon me."
The treeman made a low guttural noise of approval, and stood stock-still once more, giving the false impression that it was simply what it appeared to be… a normal tree.
Eiselbahr had made that mistake more than once.
He sighed a heavy sigh, and carried on his way to the fire he could see about fifty paces ahead of him in the darkness of the wood.
His head throbbed and ached, and he wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground, and stay there for a good day at least. That was impossible though. They went up against the Dark Elves in the morning.
His hand instinctively travelled to his side, and he frowned deeply. The wound was all too fresh in his mind. He remembered the whole battle as clear as day.
He remembered the one-on-one he had had with a Corsair champion, clad in a dragon cloak. The Corsair's weapon had slid through him so easily, and the pain had been excruciating.
A familiar voice tore him from his painful reverie.
"Good evening, Lord Eiselbahr. You're still awake?"
He was very tempted to make a stupid comment to the ridiculous question that had just been asked, but refrained.
Of course I'm still awake! I'm walking around, aren't I?
He turned to face Calquo, who was leaning up against an actual tree, arms crossed over his chest. The younger elf was smiling, and his brown eyes were curious.
"Hello, Calquo. I can't seem to bring myself to rest," he told the young champion.
Calquo nodded in agreement, and he lost his smile. His true emotions were shining through like a beacon fire in pitch-black darkness. "I know what you mean, Lord. Every time I close my eyes, those horrible vampires rise up in my mind." The elf shuddered visibly.
Eiselbahr simply nodded. "Will you join me?" He indicated towards the fire where he was travelling, and cocked his head.
Calquo followed his indication, and upon looking back at him with a slightly startled expression, he too, simply nodded.
The champion pushed himself off of the tree, and walked beside the taller Lord towards the bright fire just ahead of them.
The reason for Calquo's previous startled expression had been understandable. The fire was where Tyrion, Teclis, and other such powerful warriors were seated.
Eiselbahr came to a stop about ten paces from the fire, and bowed gracefully to the two mighty High Elf brothers. Calquo did so also.
Tyrion gave them a single nod, and waved his hand for them to join him. "Please, do come seat yourselves by the fire."
Calquo looked about ready to turn tail and run. The younger elf was not usually invited into the personal presence of Tyrion, nor Teclis.
As usual though, Teclis was reasonably quiet.
"How are you tonight, sir?" Eiselbahr asked of Tyrion upon seating himself on the ground.
Tyrion sighed quietly, and looked back up at the Lord with tired blue eyes. "I'm feeling a little tired, but feel as though sleep would be difficult." Tyrion smiled a wan smile. "And yourself?"
Eiselbahr nodded. "Good, sir. I can't sleep either. I have written a letter to my wife… to keep her spirits up."
Tyrion smiled a genuine smile then. "Good. A lovely woman, Damaedria. If you had not have gotten to her so swiftly, Eiselbahr, I fear I would have."
The two laughed, but not so loud as to disturb the sombre mood of the encampment.
Tyrion turned his gaze upon the quiet champion seated at Eiselbahr's side. "Hello, Calquo. How are you feeling this evening?"
Calquo's gaze immediately rose from the floor. "I am very well, sir. Thank you."
Tyrion smiled with a nod. "I'm glad."
"I have a bad feeling," mumbled Teclis, who was staring mesmerised off into the distance, beyond the trees.
"What is it, brother?" Tyrion asked, his face once again serious.
Teclis shook his head.
"I do not know. But there is a great evil rising beyond these lands… and I fear it will destroy us."
