Caradus stood alone on the hillside gazing up at the clear night sky, his handsome features - though wry with fatigue - dimly lit by the pale light cast by the full moon above him. He drew in a deep, refreshing breath as he watched the stars shining brightly above, mesmorized by the wonder of them all. He once was told they were nothing more then suns much like the one that rises each morning, only many thousands of miles away, others claimed they were the souls of fallen heroes, and that shooting stars were new heroes going to their place in the heavens -
a pretty bedside tale for children, he thought to himself.
He arched his back, grunting faintly as the restriction of the heavy armour brought him discomfort in his fatigued state. Rubbing at his eyes in a vain attempt to awaken himself, he reflected over the past few months - the war was not going well. Rhydins return had lifted morale greatly for the first while, but then he had been struck by one illness after another - Caradus had begun to think this not mere coincidence, but even with his most trusted and loyal soldiers watching over the General and his food examined constantly, for fear he was being poisoned, there had still been no improvement. His state was improving not at all.
Field Marshal Dane had taken what was left of his division and returned to the fortress without a word, and he felt himself at a loss as his scouts returned with reports regarding the movements in the docks - they were packing to leave, there was no doubt of it. He groaned inwardly,
what on Faerun is he doing?, he thought to himself,
Doesn't he know we are still here?. It was likely, communication was rare now with the ever-watchful Banites swooping in on even our fastest scouts.
He had managed to have several of his men infiltrate the fortress and steal away a dozen or so wagons of supplies amongst all the chaos during the evacuation, he would need them soon, he knew. Supplies were severely low and they would not beable to hold these lines much longer if they were unequipped for the job - rations were being thinned out, old and spare cloths or blankets being torn apart to act as bandages, while strong whiskeys were now being used as pain killers as herbal supplies ran low - much to the enjoyment of the men, he recalled with a wry grin.
His thoughts were disturbed by a sudden rustling behind him. Moving forward quickly - instinctively - he dived and rolled on his shoulder, grunting as the shoulder plate was pushed into his neck. He came to his feet swiftly, both blades in-hand, the moonlight glinting majestically from their impossibly clean steel. As he focused his eyes on the treeline beyond, a shadowy figure emerged, stepping forward with a confidence Caradus would recognise anywhere. He paused short of the Field Marshal and offered a swift bow.
"Field Marshal, sir." He said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet with a confidence that cut through the considerable gap between the men. Pushing himself warily to his feet, Caradus stepped forward, ordering the man to be at ease.
"What is it, Karanos?" Said the Field Marshal, addressing the man by name now that his face was visible in the moonlight. The man had been a student of his from the beginning, disciplined and loyal unto death - he was one of the thirty-two left of his one hundred elite, personally trained men.
"Its Haleer, sir," He said. "He's returned from his task north - the Banites are moving on us now, under the cover of night." The Field Marshal obsorbed the information silently for a few moments, then nodded to the man who saluted and left as swiftly as he arrived. It wouldn't be long now before they forced themselves through the lines and put Port Llast down - permanently. Although tonight would not be that night.. Picking up his equipment, he made his way through the treelines where Karanos had disappeared through moments before.
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Seemed long enough to have a second post, and means yous dont have one big massive story to read - besides, im tired.
Enjoy, been awhile since i wrote - point out faults, etc.
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