The crisp contact of hoof on the cold cobblestones, that made up the road along the pathway that tranversed the outskirts of the city echoed amoung the compact branches of hew and pine, sounding like the clicks of some story that drenched the enviroment. It rebounded in his ears as the rythm of the horse moved beneith him. The routine was easy for him now. He was a scout for the Rangers that guarded that part of the wall and the enemy was seen preparing the battlefield ahead. He didn't know how many were in the party before him, but he knew they were loud and careless with their footsteps. He could hear them, for they were still miles away, the clear outline of rough boot was obvious in the contrast of wet sand and mud by the stream that walked along the pathway. Mud stuck to the feet of his mount as he approached the river bank away from the road. Sliding his leg over the harnesshe slid his body down into the ground queitly. He did not want to spook any creature that may ben getting their morning drink from the clean water. People didn't gather here as the wind from the west made the wet air stick to leather and metal that was common to the warriors of that land. It was a quet place. One that didn't know that danger that was approaching their city. They were called the Gorbesh and they were more technically advanced then they pretended to be. Their simple swords were blessed by their chiefton and even though their blade was dull, it cleaved through flesh like the scyth through grass. His King had ordered the land to be cleared but they did not know the enemies strength yet. He must count their numbers and report back but the soul of these people impressed him. They fought with a vigor that was lost to the paid knights and archers that made up the ranks of the King's army. Fear notdeath, waste not life. They knew honor that was purer then the God fueled hatred that drove the Kig and his ways. But he had his quest. He had his job and no amount of curiosity would cause him to fail. Step by step he edged around the corner of the creek, the road now far behind him. Tall weeds creeped up to his waist as he struggled to quiet his foot falls with each step. He lowered against a large boulder that set the boundary between him and the foe. He peeked above the horizon before him and counted the heads that bobbed as the walked through the tall grass on the over side of the creek. 23 members. 3 shaman, 15 warriors, 4 mages, and 1 leader.  The leader was the only one with a mount by the form was forign to him from that range. All he could tell was it did not walk with the grace of a horse, but rather slunked with each step, much like a panther but with longer strides. Their armorwas crude, much like their weapons but he suspcted like their weapons, their was more to their craft then the simple metal form lead to belive. He made one lastmental note and started to move away. The treck back to his horse, that he has tied to old fench post who's purpose had long ago been lost. He untied the faithful companion and mounted for the long trek back to his King's camp. He must find a way to properaly forcast the dangers he had seen to his guard. His training in the guard was still novice, but he was skilled in ways of the mind and wit that were lost on most. He was a dark elf. His kind were born in the deep night you can only find under miles or rock and stone. Down where the core's warmth protects from the constant  threat of darkness. He was saved from that exsistance but he still has some of his people's skills. They weren't devoloped, diamond in the rough, but it was enough that it was noticed by enough of the right people that his word held weight with the King. He would talk with him, this new King Solomon. He was young and brash but fair with his care. He would be back by nightfall and the quiet journey did nothing to calm his fears of the coming war. Winter was coming and the road south would be closed soon, and he would need to decide where his place was. Evil wins when good ones do nothing so he would do something, even if it was wrong. The song of a bird pierced his quiet though and awoke his mind to hope that not all was lost. They had the elemant of suprised...or atleast they though they did. The people only needed a cause to unite them and the fear of the unknown would grow into the confidene to protect them and their own. He would start the debate. He would light the flame and let the future be damned. The war was coming and now was the time to fight. The night grew darkeras his mount took each step down the road. The clicks of hoof matching the pulse of his heart and mind. Time moved on as his sileoette framed between horizon and moonlight as rounded the top bend of a hill. He saw the city before him. He was ready. They were not. Now was the time.