A ring, and a battle with the undead.

The battle was brilliant. Just like the Dove divined, elves lain in ambush just past the river. She took the pain to install her artillery fire, and once the bombardment start and the sun turned against them, only then Nathalie sent forth her light infantry and cavalry, her swiftest troops.

The Duke met the Dove later on, she was already studying the maps for the next battle. Only in a light chemise, the only weight that she carried was a short sword by her side, She had the slim, fit body of a elven warrior, but with more generous breasts. It reminded the duke of the "elven prisoner" he fucked just two days before.

"Uncle... there is something wrong. Our scouts saw signs of an undead army lurking in Mystlewood." Nathalie briefed her uncle with a concise report, splitting fact from idiotic rants. To his credit, the Duke of Tylemia bid her advice, and said "Then we should retreat, we would be fools to deny our cavalry and archers any edge they could have against a supernatural enemy."

"No. If history serves us right, these menaces always grow in cities and villages. Now we can do nothing about the long dead, but we can take the living with us, adding them to our bagage train." She looked up, there was more than fatalism in her words. "Uncle, we need to save the elvish outposts as well. A zombie elf is just as bad and virolent as a zombie human"

"I am growing fond of your council, Nathalie. You have proven to be better than any son I ever had. I assume you have a plan already?" She did, and divided it with him. The Duke seemed satisfied. "I had decided before to give your hand in marriage to one of my vassals, but there isn't one of them that is worthy of a woman like you." He looked squarely at her "Are you still pure? I could look among the kings finest for a worthy match, a Duke son or a prince of the blood." But Nathalie lowered her eyes, with blushing cheeks, and shook her head. Her coyness contrasted so heavily with the mature general, the tyrannical Duke felt betrayed, but was uncharactlistic forgiving. He decided to postpone this conversation.

"You still deserve a reward. Here, take this" The Duke removed a slim silver ring. "It was given me by the Queen of Svitzand, long ago. It is proof of her favor, and its bearer may ask her a boon in turn. Use it well, my little dove" He plants a kiss on her forehead after putting the ring in her finger, its magic adjusting to make it fit.

Despite his tone, Nathalie knew well how much he must have loved this treasury, she had never seen him not use the discreet ring. Throwing her arms around him, she hugs him tightly, her breasts pleasantly pressed against his chest. "thank you uncle" she whispers, and plant a kiss on his cheek. Feeling his cock stiffen, she innocently brush it with her naked tight as she steps away.

They started to march that very night, there was no time to waste. Soldiers barely grunged any disrepect, it was mostly the nobles that complained. The Dove expected more enemies on their way to the elven hamlet, but was surprised to find none. The reason became clear once they reached their destination.

Elven men and women were all gathered at the hamlet. Delicates rooftops served as plataforms for archers, militia were armed with a few spears and mostly pitchforks. A few able soldiers in the bunch, but hardly enough to turn the tide of a battle. It was unlike the elves to do do a last, pitched battle, unless these were simply those who stayed behind while their children escaped.

Nathalie moved forward, selecting two of her shieldmaidens to accompain her. She didnt bear any weapons, nor gave any orders for the army to prepare for battle. An arrow whistled just a scratch from her face, but she ignored it. She hailed once she was close enough "Le suilon", a simple greeting.

The elves were stunned to find a human that knew their fair tongue, but the army marked her an enemy. They hurled insults back at her, defiance met with stoic temperance. Eventually she declared in the elven tongue "Tomorrow we may be enemies, and maybe until one of us dies. Today the Duke of Tylemia fights to defend you and yours. Shoot us in the back if you will, and live forever with the memory of what could have been" With that the Dove briskly turn her back on the hostile audience, and begins to march away.