Rizen surveyed the troops before him. The cold morning air ripped though the camp,. Men hustled from point to point. Each man wore a the long flaring the signal fires and setting the banners whipping about in the cool gutswhite cloak that signified him as one of Rizen’s Guild.

Their leader looked down upon them and smiled with pride. This army, nearly a thousand strong, would be able to hold the pass nearly indefinitely from any mortal assault. However, what he faced up the mountain was far from mortal. He was to strike at the Shadow Gods themselves.

It had been a long time coming, this road before him. But he would see it though to the end. His army camped out in a sprawl along the cold valley below the Tower. The Horse Wraiths had chosen their stronghold well. It could only be approached from one side by any sort of force, and the long winding stairs carved into the mountain was the only access point, save for birds. There would be hours of ascent, single file, exposed to archers the whole time.

Even upon reaching the gates of the circular building, they would still have to siege it, break through walls of solid stone 13 feet thick on any side, and only then could he face the shadowy horrors of the Horse Clan itself. The army would have to remain and hold this final pass to prevent the Horse’s allies in the Middle Kingdom from re-enforcing them once the full measure of the assault was understood.

Taking one last look at his forces below, Rinzen turned into his tent where by candle light his maps were arrayed before him. Akar had acquired them from an archive plundered years ago, and within their pages the exacting detail of the mountains and passes had been invaluable in his campaign. He looked down at one of the the maps, to a mark in red that represented where he had sent Kahn and Goba a hundred leagues to the east. They had been given a small army and instructions to divert the rivers there and flood the valley. The Shadow Gods had but one fear, running water, and while the dams would quickly come under attack once the plan was realized the time granted by the diversion would be enough.

One piece yet remained before he could make his strike. Then, he would take a small force into the tower itself, climbing the shear cliffs of the south face under the cover of darkness. He and his hand picked soldiers would kill the Shadow Gods where they slept and claim this land for his own. Once and for all. But to strike he needed…

His thoughts were cut off as the flap of his tent blew open and his lifelong friend Akar entered. Akar was a tall man, standing nearly seven feet and he dominated the entry way to the tent, his long skinny form throwing deep shadows across the interior. His dark eyes flickering in the candle light.

A long scar ran down Akar’s face, deep purple against his olive skin, the mark of betrayal he had gained when, against the guild’s wishes he had studied the dark arts. Under his robes Rizen knew there were other scars, deep and painful that he had earned in the pursuit of knowledge. Akar had given everything for this campaign, including his left hand, and he was the only man in the world completely Rizen trusted. The scars and injuries never seemed to touch Akar, he wore the mark on his face as a badge of pride, and it twisted with his smile as he caught Rizen’s eyes.

“It is done.” The tall man said, his deep booming voice echoing though the tent.

Rizen returned the smile, a fire burning in his eyes. “Bring her,” he commanded, and the other man bowed and exited the tent. Rizen stood to his full height and grabbed his weapon from where it lay next to his bed. Using the long spear as a staff he stepped out of his tent back into the small clearing.

A small crowd had gathered, but they all stood respectfully away from Akar, whose long blood red cloak made him stick out as he moved through the sea of white that marked the rest of the Guild. Akar lead his horse, a tall black beast, through the crowd towards Rizen’s tent.

Riding in the saddle was a small form, covered in a soft gray cloak that hid eyes and form. But Rizen knew this was what he had been waiting for. A smile fell upon his face as he turned to face his prize.

“Akar,” Rizen commanded, “Stand aside, I will test her myself.” Akar nodded and dropped the reigns of the horse and moved to stand within the circle that was forming. The soldiers gathered quietly, all hand picked by Rizen to serve as his honor guard, and circled the two, tension growing thick in the cool air as they waited, not knowing what was to come next.

“Akar” Rizen continued, as he pulled off his white robe, standing bare-chested in the clearing, muscles preparing. “Command her to fight me.”

Akar nodded, and spoke in a guttural language to the cloaked figure. Rizen knew the tongue as the God Tongue, a trick of Akar’s to speak directly to someone’s mind. Nodding in satisfaction Rizen assumed a ready stance, whipping his spear behind his back and flexing his muscled form.

“We shall see if the Talon Clan lives up to its reputation.” Rizen quipped, and with a blindingly fast motion charged forward with his spear thrust at the cloaked form. A tiny bit of doubt played on his mind but he did not let it slow his actions. The Talon must be what he sought, they must have what he needed, or all of this will have been for nothing. His heart raced as the deadly cold grey tip of his weapon raced towards the cloaked form who sat motionless on the horse. Each moment the weapon moved closer to striking, the more doubt plagued Rizen’s mind.

He need not have questioned. Just before the weapon was to strike the form rolled off the horse, easily dodging the strike. She landed with a practiced grace, throwing the cloak off her body and exposing a lithe female form covered with loose fitting cloth. Everywhere the cloth was not, was covered with the black lines of tattoos. In a smooth motion one of the girls hands tapped a tattoo over her left breast while the other went to her belt loop pulling out a dagger.

This was the only warning Rizen had but it was just enough for the practiced warrior. He dodged the dagger that went sailing by faster than any he had ever seen. Out of the corner of his eye he marveled as the blade hit one of his men with such force that it carried him off his feet and threw him another 200 down the side of the mountain. He had no time to feel guilt or amazement as the girl moved like lightening, leaping from her feet at Rizen, another blade seemingly out of nowhere appearing in her hand. Rizen spun defensively with a smile on his face. She dodged each strike he made, blocking spear thrusts that would have torn down a horse with a simple deflection of her dagger. Her face emotionless as she moved from strike to strike.

Suddenly Akar, spoke a single word and the girl stopped as suddenly as she began, rising out of her crouch to a standing position.

Rizen, disappointed that his friend had called a stop to the sparring said, “She is fast,” but his old friend could hear that doubt in his voice.

Akar simply replied, “Faster than you know,” and pointed at the dirt. Rizen, his breath steading from the heat of battle looked down and saw the marks on the earth in a perfect circle around him, drawn by the girl with her feet as they had been fighting. “Runes of binding.” Akar said, matter of factly. “You had already lost.”
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