The rides appeared from the tall grass, flanking the approaching army. The horses were swift; the archers were precise. One by one, on the opposing end, they were falling to the rapid arrow fire. The arrows themselves were of the type that pierced the hardest armor, so it was easy to break the tithe formation of the Haladan.

It wasn`t easy as the Itarians thought. The Haladan host changed tactics into a shield-wall. There were things that the Itrarians didn`t know, the group that they attacked were only foot soldiers. The Haladans had a different strange than the neighboring tribes; the foot soldiers were always in the first line while the cavalry stayed behind. They just need to survive until the cavalry arrives.

And survive they did. The Itarians found themselves between the two forces. They couldn’t go back, what they thought would be an easy ambush now it turned into a massacre. The battle was over in minutes.

Near the capital of Eirath another battle raged on. Two local warlords were fighting one another. Over something that the both of them have forgotten a long time ago. For the sake of valor, they continued to fight, as all leaders do. It will never change.

The people of the capital looked from the city gates at the two lords that were fighting. Most of them were cheering for one or the other, some for the both of them. After three hundred years of peace things start to get boring.

In the gardens, the king looked at the old parts of the city down below. Once like the city he was also in his prime. Many winters have passed since that part of the city was built. The king himself was one of the oldest inhabitants of the city. There were a few of them that were older than him, but none of them had his power of remembering