The elven emissary enters the halls of Firenze’s castle, a wounded Sigmar leaning heavily against him.
“Greeting Duchess Scarlett. I am Caladrel Blackscale, emissary of Queen Telandia. I bring you the greetings of Kyonin, the ancestral homeland of your late father. I was also fortunate enough to save one of your citizens from a barbarian ambush.”
“What happened to my troops?” Marshal Woode asks.
Caladrel nods to Nicholas.
“Let me show you, Lord Marshal.”
Caladrel hands weave as he casts an illusion.
“More of these blood-armored barbarians”, growls Faisal as he strides forward to kneel beside the wounded Sigmar. “It must be the missing unit of the army that we crushed.”
His hands glow with divine energy several times as the worse of the wounds close. When the holy warrior has done all that he can, he looks back to the elf.
“Emissary Blackscale, I am certain I merely echo the Dawnsister’s thoughts when I offer my thanks for your timely intervention. Where did you come upon this ambush, and how much time has passed since your escape?”