#isera loves halva

The stoic expression remained, as if the news hadn’t phased her. But then, Lady-Commander Halva was a hard woman to read. 

“And our borders?” She asked after a long minute to consider. She shifted and her armor- too heavy even for most men- creaked. “Will they hold?”

“No.” Marn leaned forwards, elbows on his knees. His face was grim and his hands clenched into fists. “Three hundred-thousand orcs, trolls, and goblins. Rumor has it, they have a troop of giants, too.”

A true invasion force, blazing a road of destruction down from the Shadow Mountains. Twice the size of their own army, and backed by the dark mages they always knew the orcs had, somewhere deep in their hidden fortresses. 

“What do we do?” Halva asked, her hands tight on the edge of the table. Even her strength trembled, hearing what they were truly up against. “I can marshal the armies- call for aid from our allies-”

“None of ours have the magic to face down theirs,” Grath admitted. His circlet sat on the table and it never looked as heavy as it did right now. “And there isn’t time. We can’t hold them off long enough for help to come.”

“No, you can’t. Not alone.”

They all turned to see Princess Isera at the door. She was dressed in a simple white gown, and her hair lay in waves where it poured down her shoulders. She joined them at the table and rested one delicate hand on top of Halva’s. The commander shifted to twine their fingers together and Isera smiled faintly. 

Grath hid a sigh. If they survived this, he would have to do something about them sooner or later. For now, there were bigger problems. 

The princess leaned over the table and traced her free hand over their hastily-drawn maps. “We will back you, here and here, where the mountains create a bottleneck. Forty-thousand Elvish archers, raining death into the valley from the hills.”

The room was silent, until Marn broke it. “If we put our foot, and OUR archers there, we might just hold,” he said quietly. “If we have a way to deal with the magic-users, we have a fighting chance.”

“It will take longer- days- to bring in magical aid,” Isera told them honestly. “But other reinforcements can be on the wing in hours.”

“On the wing?” Grath wondered what she could possibly mean. “We have a few Pegasus flyers-”

The elf smiled, and this time it wasn’t a very nice smile. Grath was alarmed to see it mirrored on Halva’s. Clearly the Lady-Commander knew something he didn’t. 

“Elves are light,” the armored woman explained. Her short hair was braided out of her eyes in a decidedly Elvish style. “Those giant bugs they have in their forest? Some get big enough to ride, if you’re light enough. Flying Calvary.”

“They can be here by next dawn- and they have a few casters in their number,” Isera agreed. “Ten-thousand strong, but they fly out of arrowshot and drop firepots. Tell me, King, will that be enough to turn the tide?”

Grath looked at the map with new eyes, and decided that Halva could keep the princess if this is what her alliance brought. 

“I think we have a battle to plan,” he said, and leaned forward. “Now here’s what I think we should do.”

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Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Introductory Trouble

Lady of Grace

Lady Retrieved

Monsters on the Wing

Royal Match

Spiderwebs and Cookies

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