The Horde

Shin Qiao, her heavy armour cold in the frosty morning air, was always joined by her friends Nemeia, Himo of the falling leaves and Malark, who had decided that a cheerful diddy was needed while they waited for the General.

Qiao noted the look from Nemeia. The teifling had a very expressive face when she wasn’t hiding something, which was frequent. The look told Qiao, that she had already had enough of the bard’s cheerful crap. This was war, and with how Malark was behaving, one would be forgiven for thinking he was using it as an opportunity to write a new ballad.

Qiao said a salient prayer to Lathander as she saw General Grodan approaching. “Himo,” she said to the wood elf who sat cross-legged among the group of soldiers, sword for hires and adventurers. Himo had a way of being able to meditate almost anywhere and frequently waited until the last possible moment to rouse herself from her peaceful practice. Qiao did not want the General to think they were taking this less than seriously, and that was hard enough with Malark strumming on his lute.

Himo rose from her lotus position in a graceful motion without using her hands. She always moved fluidly, even for an elf. “General Grodan, hero of the battle of Raven Rock,” Himo said formally, nodding towards him.

He grunted non-committedly as Marlark’s lute quieted. “Listen up, I don’t have time to repeat myself,” the older man said. “The horde has split up. Some are coming down this road. The majority of them; most of our forces, will stay here and defend the city. These bastards are slow, mostly and having the town walls, weak though they are, will give us an advantage.” He took a breath and looked around.

“We have another near Longsaddle to fight the forces heading south. However, scouts have noted that there have been another two offshoots of the army. One is heading through the Neverwinter wood, and a second has moved north into the mountains. This time of year, it is hard for even the most foolhardy to travel in those frosts.”

Qiao shot a look to Himo, wearing only her traditional robes, which ran from one shoulder down to her hip, but she never seemed phased by the weather, rain, cold, wind, she took in her stride.

“Also,” the General continued, “we have been asked to spare some people to investigate the disappearance of the heroes that went in search of the source of this undead plague.”

He turned to face Qiao and her cohort of friends.

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