Tuesday, October 8, 2013

The Battle of Tor Cairas

Freyr was a mighty king. He was well known for his valor in battle, kindness to the unfortunate, and generosity to all. He lived in that wood known now as Dragonwood. With him, perished his line, but his memory lasts even to this day.

Freyr was a son of Sigurt and stood high among his people. In his concern for the people of Tor Cairas, he lead his army forth from the great wood. Tor Cairas lay under siege from the Dal-Ra, servants of the Hated One. Freyr's princely warriors cut through the Dal-Ra and drove them out into the murky lands of the Fens. Upon their victory, Freyr brought his men into the city for healing and rest.

Little did the victors know that the Dal-Ra were coming again, with greater numbers. As night fell on the fourth night hence, one of Freyr's far sighted kinsmen happened to look to the south. There, in the rising gloom, he saw a force marching. Word was put forth to the good king and the elders of the city. Freyr and Aliralath, eldest of the men who lead the city of mists, came to the walls and looked where the blessed guard pointed.

There they saw what looked to be a forest devoid of branch or leaf moving northward. Aliralath gave a cry of dismay and fear. Freyr set his men to work. In the dark, the blessed children of Roen worked with a desperate fury to build earthworks and trenches. When dawn came, a rough labyrinthe lay where the mud had been churned with booted feet to a mire. Stout branches of brambles coaxed by elfin magic into thorny spears bristled.

In amongst this hedge, the weary forest folk waited. Behind the walls of Tor Cairas, Aliralath and his brothers put the able bodied to work securing the walls. At nightfall of the next day, the forces of the Dal-Ra had reached the outer edge of the cleared lands about Tor Cairas. They beat their drums and sounded their war horns.

Freyr slept poorly that night, for a great forboding lay heavily upon his heart. Where Aliralath had thought it to be another siege, Freyr knew that the Dal-Ra would come upon them with their full numbers. Freyr looked about himself and saw many a brave soul with the faint veil of death cast about their form like gossamer spider webs. In the face of such doom, he did not give his heart over to grief.

Indeed, he went amongst the doomed and exhorted them with bold speech of courage and victory. The third day, the Dal-Ra waited. As the gloom of night began to fall, they marched forward with the beat of heavy drum. In to the maze they went. The elfin host bore arms bravely against them. The numbers of the enemy, however, pushed the valiant defenders back to the walls.

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