Alt: Homeward Bound

Birds burst from the treetops, alarmed cries chased by the sounds of drumming feet. Chunks of turf gave brief chase before falling back to earth, thrown airborne by swift talons moving in reckless haste. Running in tight formation, the knights advanced, long strides swiftly eating up the distance. If only these wings could carry us, mused the knight at the fore. How much swifter we would be! We would walk the clouds and not the earth.

The footfalls slowed not even a moment as the company wheeled an embankment, expertly avoiding a tumble into the placid waters below. A graceful hairpin turn saw them navigating an old, half-rotted bridge at breakneck pace, heedless of the groaning protests of the ancient timbers. Hard-pushed to reach their destination, they flew onward even as the bridge gave way to age and collapsed, forcing the straggling knight to jump clear. Harder they pushed, not pausing to look back, a hopeful flame lighting in each one’s breast as their destination grew ever nearer: San d’Oria. Only a few river bends lie between them and their goal.

Carpenter’s Landing was nearly a world unto itself, its verdant greenery disturbed only by the occasional enterprising Orcish scout. They were usually themselves disturbed by the even more enterprising landed nobility who called the fertile river land home. So long as their neat little parcels of land remained undisturbed, they were largely content to keep to themselves. The knights' commander had counted on this, hoping their shortcut wouldn’t raise any complaints back in the Chateau. Besides, he’d reasoned with a turn of black humor, who would pester a company of armed and battle-ready men in full tilt, however wearied?

"Haste! A feast waits inside San d’Oria’s walls," rose the joyful bark, sounding above the din. "Tonight we’ll be satisfied inside the Chateau itself! We’re to be guests of honor!" The forest hush softened even the hearty laughter that greeted the commander’s announcement, gentling it but not masking the eagerness it contained. The long march was almost over.

Lulled by his lush surroundings, the commander found his thoughts wandered ahead of him. It had been long, far too long, since he’d last seen the high walls of stone – And his last opportunity had only been at a distance. He grinned inwardly, feeling almost giddy at the thought of finally passing through its gates. At last! Will it have changed? Has the pall of war drained the color from its citizens’ faces? Or will they rise to greet us? He drew up short at a sharp inquiry from one of the knights, almost having overshot the passage mouth that would be their triumphal entry.

Black gauntleted hand flexing in nervous eagerness, the Demon lifted his darksteel falchion high, then buried it deep into a tree trunk with a powerful downstroke. His raspy voice carried unnaturally in the gloom as he addressed the assembled host.

"We rest, but not for long. Be ready to move, and move swiftly. Our lord will dispatch Imps once we have breached San d’Oria’s walls. Kill any who stand in your way, but do not lose sight of our objective. We haven’t come to dirty our blades with the blood of peasants, no – Only noble blood will suffice!"

Harsh, otherworldly cries of triumph heralded the end of another day in Carpenter’s Landing.