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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Rel" data-source="post: 2341785" data-attributes="member: 99">The companions stood ready in the shade of the Live Oak and Treants on the small island amid the marsh they’d created.  They very nearly crackled with magic from all of the protective enchantments that had been placed upon them.  Every possible ward they thought they might need and several they desperately hoped that would have no call for using had been applied as the hour of battle grew near.  A full half dozen Lazarii shifted from foot to foot waiting for his next chance to ply his magic, thanks to his Mirror Image enchantment.  Cathal stood with much of his gear laid upon the ground before him.  In his hand he held a necklace of thick, plain metal links.None spoke as they all listened to the noises of Bale’s army approaching past the rise to the north.  At their backs were all the allies they could muster.  The thousands of Legionnaires, the hundreds of Fodor Tribesmen, the dozen Orcs they’d rescued from Hell and the handful of Paladins who followed Capito.  Thus far there had been no sign of Great Root and his forest allies nor the Dwarves of the Stone Tooth.  Everyone just hoped that they had not blundered into Bale already and been destroyed.Two more brave warriors had joined them upon the island.  Magdar had left his men behind the battlements, on the far left flank where they were far enough from the prejudiced glares of the humans.  His honor demanded that he face the danger of Bale directly and his warrior spirit cried out for revenge for what had been done to his people.  It was their blood that fed this horrid abomination and he intended to see that it was stopped.  Ilrath of course stood alongside Magdar as well as Speaks with whom he had braved many dangers already.  This was the group that stood at the tip of the spear when the ripples began to spread across the marsh at the approach of the monstrous footsteps of Bale’s army.The top of Bale’s head was the first thing to become visible above the ridge.  Then came the Nothingness of black that comprised the head of his massive mace.  Moments later the heads and torsos of Giants and Ogres came into view to form the rest of Bale’s vanguard.  The great Lizard-Thing lumbered forth at his left hand, eyes full of hateful intelligence.“Good luck,” said Marcus as he mounted his Hippogriff, “and have faith.”  He took to the sky with the reins in his right hand and the Shield held close in his left.  More of Bale’s army crept into view beyond the thicket wall as Marcus and his mount strove skyward and forward.  The Warrior-Priest of St. Cuthbert swooped across the right flank of the battlefield and raised his voice:“Bale, brother of Bane, long have you been dead and, before this day is done, dead you shall be again!  With you, you have brought Evil and Destruction!  On our side is Right and Order!  These things will not succumb to your reign of terror!  Prepare to meet your final end!”Bale paused, his expression unreadable at this distance were it even possible to guess the mindset of the reborn godling of hate, murder and destruction from facial features that were, after all, comprised solely of blood.  One would have to conclude from his bellowing laughter that followed that he was not in any way intimidated.  He proceeded to make what must surely have ranked among the top few most casual gestures ever witnessed and unleashed a hail of fire and stone upon Marcus and his mount.From the cloudy sky descended a column of red hot stones that struck the lone rider with a horrific display of destruction that instantly slew the Hippogryph and left Marcus reeling with pain.  Thankfully Lazarius had had the foresight to enchant him with a spell allowing him to Fly even without his mount.Leaving a thin trail of smoke behind him, Marcus retreated toward friendly lines.  The first blow of the battle had been struck and already one of their most powerful warriors was nearly dead, his mount slain from beneath him.</blockquote>

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