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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Isida Kep'Tukari" data-source="post: 3017998" data-attributes="member: 4441">Jillian can pass some time with the other archers, once she has her half-dozen fiend-bane arrows and her orders.  The darkness before dawn is truly the most deep, and she the waiting is as hard as it ever is before battle.  They begin to move out first, spreading out behind scanty torches and waiting for the first breath of dawn to unleash the first rain of arrows.  "Drive them out into the open, hammer the commanders, then the specialists will take out as many as they can," go the orders, over and over, as strings are tested and fletching smoothed.  The pre-dawn air is cool and damp, the scent of smoke and horse dung, sweat and porridge, men living in close quarters, trampled earth and growing grass fills your nostrils as the first rays of dawn tint the sky.You're too far away to catch the stink of sulfur and iron and blood that is typical of the summoning pits, and perhaps that's just as well.  You're arranged farther away from the pits, closer to the standing Dominion army, to be closer to the commanders.  Final prayers are said and talismans are grasped, wishes for luck, victory, swift death to the Dominion, or life to the Kingsmarch are sent on the dawn winds.  With the falling of a fluttering flag, rather than the trumpet, a terrific rain of arrows begins on the tents of the Dominion army.For the first few moments, there is utter chaos, people running to and fro, dodging one arrow only to run into another, waking only to find themselves pinned to the ground with an arrow in their stomach.  There is no need to aim now, the army is far and the arrows are many.  This front rank is mostly lowlander pikemen, but is they that the Dominion hides behind.  They are the bulk of their army, grown and raised in the Emerlyn peninsula, reared in betrayal and fear; they wretched folk scarcely better than their masters.However, the Dominion has not held the peninsula by being weak, and after the first few moments of confusion, order emerges as the tiefling officers, in their elaborate red and black war helms, sound orders with their low-pitched horn calls.  Screams fill the air behind the ranks, and you can see the ranks beginning to form, shields coming out, and formations starting.  The low-pitched horns favored by the Dominion are known to be able to be heard long distances, and surely enough, after a few minutes the faint flying forms of demons can be seen in the distance, loosed from the pits.  In a few moments they'll be here...  The archers begin to focus on the aloof commanders, and Jillian can see three within range to choose from.  One wears heavy black plate, unusual for a tiefling, spiked and terrible to look upon.  He is upon a tremendous green-scaled beast with stunted wings, carrying a huge flail in one hand and bellowing at his soldiers with the lungs of a dragon.  The second is a slender woman with elaborate spiky horns poking out through her helmet.  She bears a black whip that she uses to urge her regiment on, the energy flickering along its tip sparking in the damp air.  The third wears little in the way of armor, but she has deep red skin and a lashing tail, and something glitters cruelly on her taloned hands.~~~  "Probably.  We're just trying to get everything coordinated and his orders and opinions are needed.  They are, of course, needed right this second, no matter what he's doing," Ivarn says with a sigh.  After that, Galen can rest for a while, and prepare what spells he needs to for the coming battle.In the morning, he finds himself in a protected position behind the archers, slightly on a rise and behind some illusionary terrain.  He can see the beleaguered Dominion army beginning to form up, even as the forms of the flying demons can be seen in the west.  He has a plethora of targets to choose from... pikeman, light infantry, archers, the mounting calvary, the few commanders he can see...~~~  "She works in mysterious ways.  I shouldn't wonder if the two were twins of a sort..."  "I think I have one Raynard.  I shall ask one of our mages to conjure another phantom steed for you, and give you one of our potions of invisibility to drink.  The gait of such a creature, I am told, is smooth enough to allow the employment of spellcraft.  You will go in after Sir Aravir, and wreak what havoc that you may."  Assuming there are no objections to such an idea, this will be done, and Ssiran is given a potion of a thin gray water, and a ceramic plate inscribed with a horse.  Break the plate and drink the potion, and he will be mounted and invisible to his foes.The two can watch the beginning of the battle in the company of the other knights, watching the arrows fly, the Dominion rally, and the explosions and clouds starting in their ranks.  Finally the horn call is given, and the Knights of the Kingsmarch swing into action, a moving mountain of muscle, blade, and steel.  Sir Aravir leads a dozen younger knights on the eastern side, and has his choice of two squads of pikemen, a rapidly-forming group of archers, and a group of Dominion cavalry gaining momentum and going the other direction.~~~~~~  “If your friend doesn’t need you for his little bout of fun, perhaps we can return to my tent for a fine dinner,” she says with a very slight smirk, ignoring the cries from the pit with the ease of long experience.  “He calls himself Darvekis Shadowbane.  I take it the wretched spy didn’t give you his real name when he betrayed you?  Figures.  If you want to kick him around a bit, feel free, but the masters want him in the summoning pits, so his death is not yours,” the commander says with a callous air, stepping back a half-pace.OOC: I’m running this in two different time-frames right now, the Thunder is slightly ahead of the Rain right now, just so you know.</blockquote>

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