The wind was bristling over the plains as the elven host silently made its way to the entrance of the Mines. Alfred's company was moving near the front left side of the now-wide front of warriors walking in silence. Alfred noticed that the mounted elven nobles formed a group of their own, and swiftly rode off to the east. They were now slowing their pace, their long journey towards northeast approaching its end. Alfred started noticing signs of recent bonfires and deserted orcish encampments here and there in the gloom. Terrain started being hilly, and soon they were passing several low outlying ridges that marked the beginning of the hills. Now each elven company started parting on its own path, and soon afterwards Rasha's men were walking alone among the hills. Alfred wondered how far yet did they have to go, when they reached the top of the highest ridge, and Alfred looked down into the valley of Darotan. This valley was unusual, because it had a name, in these desolate plains, with almost no distinguishing landmarks whatsoever. It was named after an ancient dwarven word for meeting place, because here merchant caravans bound for Akkliseoth stopped, and rested for a while. The valley was usually busy with merchants, and their merry wagons, but today, Alfred's eyes met with a completely different scene.

Right below them were the reddish lights of the orc camp. Placed in a small valley between the hills, it enclosed a space about a league long and four hundred paces wide. Several thousand orcs could be seen, going around on their business. Many bonfires were lit, and orcs sat around them, eating, drinking, or sharpening their weapons. Small parties, either raiders or hunters, would constantly appear on any of the sides of the camp, either coming back from a raid loaded with loot, or would be going off, to rob some innocent villagers of their possessions and their lives. Orcs had set up their tents mostly in the northern, lower, portion of the valley, while the upper part was occupied by semi-permanent buildings of cloth and wood. Those seemed to be the elite barracks for bugbears, orcs' larger cousins. That part of the camp had a high wooden wall all around it, with battlements bristling with guards. Rasha motioned her hand toward a small group of trees on the southern ridge overlooking the valley, right above the entrance to the barracks of the elite bugbear guard. Slowly and carefully, her men took posts in the underbrush below the trees, and readied their bows. While Gorbag led a group of men to the western end of the trees, Rasha dismounted and quietly spoke with Alfred:

-Alfred, I will entrust you with a small group of men, to guard my right flank. Take them and set yourselves up on the eastern end of the trees. When the elven cavalry draws off enemies' number into the plains, elven archers will start showering the camp with flaming and poisonous arrows. We will join them in that action, but try and don't get us noticed! Orcs will send another force against the archers positioned east and west of the valley, and leave the main camp fairly unguarded. That is when we come in. Gorbag's group will then descend into the main camp and set it ablaze. My group will attempt to reach the bugbears' barracks, and destroy it. Your group will have to give me cover, and backguard. The sign for our attack will be one lone flaming arrow, enchanted by the elves to produce blue light, so that you don't miss it. If all goes well, everyone should regroup by midday tomorrow at the point where we exited the forest. Go now, and may your sword drink orcish blood tonight!

Alfred gently looked at Rasha and said:

-Rasha, thank you for all you've done for me. If it was not for you, now I would be dead somewhere in the Hills. I wish you luck, and thank you again. May your sword drink orcish blood tonight, too!

Rasha seemed to blush, but Alfred couldn't be sure in the flickering light of the fires below. Then she said:

-Off you go, now. You there, - and she pointed to a group of her men - Alfred is your commander now, follow him and do as he says! Now go, before the night is old.

Alfred looked as Rasha and her man dissapeared into the darkness under the trees, and then he turned. He silently dismounted, and whispered to his men:

-Now follow me quietly.

About two dozen men split from the main group and followed him. Alfred led them to the eastern end of the ridge. Here there were only a couple of trees to provide cover, so once there, he ordered them to cover themselves with gray blankets, and ready their weapons. They set themselves up in a semicircle around one big tree leaning over the valley. Alfred picked out one big man, who seemed bright enough, to relay the battle plan and strategy to the others, and to be his second-in-command. This man was the oldest soldier in his group, and experienced veteran from many battles. He was in his late forties now, and his old age and soft belly were getting to him, but his mind was still sharp, and his hands have seen many a battle and sent many a foe to his doom. Thus he was not surprised when Alfred called him:

-You! Yes, you there. Come here quietly now.

The man crawled to Alfred's position, and set himself next to Alfred.

Alfred spoke in a low whisper:

-All right now, what is your name, man?

The person answered:

-It is Tarnak, sir.

-Now Tarnak, you will be my lieutenant tonight. The strategy is as follows: we wait here until archers start shooting at the camp. Tell the men to spare arrows, though, for shooting arrows is not our main goal. When the archers break off their attack, we will lie low and wait. If the orcs send anyone here for us, you will have to deal with that. We can't let the orcs know we are here. Once orcs send a company to attack the archers, we wait for the blue flaming arrow. That is our signal. Rasha's group will make an attack on the bugbears' barracks, right below us - and Alfred pointed to the wooden buildings below, and Tarnak nodded - while we will give the assistance and cover. You will lead one dozen that will provide cover by shooting arrows from that point there - and now Alfred pointed to a small stone outcropping about forty feet above the camp, and about sixty strides from the wooden wall. Again Tarnak nodded, and Alfred continued:

-I will lead the rest of the men to the gates of the wall, and there we would stand rear guard while Rasha's group attacks the barracks. We will pull out when we can. If the stand gets too dangerous, retreat your men. We will meet again at dawn, in the valley four ridges north of here. Sign of recognition will be a flag of blue and yellow standing at the entrance of the valley. Now, go tell the rest of the men, and divide them into two groups. Then have one group come here and lie with me, and finally, come back for more instructions. Now go.

Tarnak slowly nodded and said:

-Yes, sir. I will go now.

As Tarnak turned around and silently went to do as he was told, Alfred was thinking on how to use his magic to help himself and his men in the upcoming battle. Darkness was pervading, and Alfred then remembered how useful was night-vision in the dwarven mines. He decided to cast night-vision on each of his men. Since this would spend most of his magical power, he thought he should just leave the rest for later. Having decided, he started chanting in the mysterious language of magic, and began to enchant small stones he found on the ground next to him with the spell of night-vision. As he took each stone from the ground, and channeled his magic into it, the stone would briefly glow dark violet, which would tell Alfred it was ready for use. By the time Tarnak was back, Alfred had all of the stones ready for use, and was feeling a little bit tired, for continuous spellcasting took its toll on the body. However, the night-vision spell was not one of the more powerful enchantments, and Alfred had had a lot of practice with it, so he was able to cast it with relative ease. Tarnak crawled to where Alfred was crouched behind a large stone, and quietly spoke:

-Sir, it has been done. Men have been divided, and they know their dutie.

Alfred silently handed Tarnak two dozen stones he just enchanted. As turned put up a puzzled look, Alfred took care to explain carefully what they were for:

-Tarnak, I am a little bit of a wizard, and I have enchanted these stones to aid our sight in the night. Pass one of these to each of the men, and instruct them to hold them in their hands, and whisper the word "Release!". When they do, the stones will flash briefly with violet, and then the man holding the stone will gain night-vision. Now go and deliver these, one to each man. After you are done, go and ready your men for the wait. We will make good use of them in the battle.

Tarnak seemed a little doubtful of this, but he obediently took the stones and replied:

-It shall be done. Good luck in the mayhem, sir, and may your blade drink orcish blood tonight!

Alfred solemnly answered:

-And may yours drink orc blood too!

Tarnak then whizzed off into the night with the stones. As Alfred got himself ready, and prepared his longbow and arrows, he saw several flashes of violet light, followed by audible whispers of amazement. So the soldiers did use the stones, and found their new commander slightly more than he seemed; Alfred thought for himself. He smiled as he counted his arrows and loosened his sword-sheath. Alfred now took one of his stones in both his hands, and uttered quietly:

-Release!

As the stone briefly flashed violet, Alfred felt his vision clear, and turn to green-gray hues of nightvision. Now he could see with clarity into the shadows inside the elite barracks. He saw many shapes of sleeping bugbears, as well as several guards in the corners, but the barracks were otherwise empty. In one building, though, he saw lamplight, and wondered what did it mean. He tried to get a better look by shifting himself several feet to the side, but then somebody inside the building closed the windows, and pulled the shutters on it. Alfred sighed dissapointedly, and moved back to his previous position. He then crouched low on the ground and prepared himself for the long wait.

The long hours of the night slowly passed. Time dragged on as Alfred's men lay on the ground, waiting for the sign. Orc camp continued on it's usual bussiness, without a sign that something was wrong. Midnight was near, and all was still. Alfred was begginning to wonder if the attack has been called off, when a loud cry pierced the night sky.

A dark cloud appeared on the southern horizon. As it grew near, it separated into two score mounted figures charging the orc camp from the north. Elven cavalry had come. Their charge was terrifying to behold, as they sweeped over the plain as fast as the crow flies. A great commotion rose in the orc camp, but the orcs barely had the time to sound the alarm, an ugly screeching noise that hurt Alfred's ears, before the elves were upon them. Elves issued forth a battlecry, and rode straight through the encampment, hacking and slashing with shiny blades of steel. Orcs screamed in terror, feebly trying to defend themselves, and running all over the camp. Many were caught unaware, and had not a weapon nor an armor with them, and fell easy prey to the noble riders. As the elves thundered through the camp, they threw many torches, and lit great bonfires. Soon the camp was burning in many places. Many tents were overturned, and many orcs slain, in the minute or two that took the riders to make their way to the other side of the valley, and dissapear over the ridge, taking almost no losses. Now that the riders were gone, orcs began to organize. In the middle of great crying, and the raging fire, a great group of them, no less then a thousand and a score of orcs, went out after the riders. They soon dissapeared behind the nearby ridge, following the trail of horses.

The remaining orcs set to work putting out fires, and fixing the damage done in the attack. They started removing their dead, and salvaging the tents damaged and overturned. Several big bugbears oversaw their work, whipping them frequently and viciously, venting their anger and hatred of the elves. The camp slowly settled into its previous routine, and about an hour later, everything seemed back to normal. Tents were put back up, fires were put out, and the dead were disposed of. At this time, when the orcs least expected it, the elven commanders gave the sign for the attack to begin.

A great shower of flaming arrows fell upon the unsuspecting orcs, and killed many, and set many tents aflame. As Alfred silently let down his hand, his men joined the shower with a good two dozen bolts of their own. After watching the first wave of the arrows pass, Alfred fetched his own bow and let loose the flaming arrows. These arrows needed no lighting, for they magically ignited in the air, such was the power of elven magic. Wave after wave of arrows fell on the orcs from all sides of the valley, and many were poisonous now, as some began to run out of the flaming ones. Orcs screamed, and their sergeants quickly organized them, and a huge mass of them started pouring towards the ridges on all sides of the valley. As the orcs got closer, more and more arrows found their mark, but their number was so great that it didn't even slow them down. A minute later first orcish warriors were already engaging in hand-to-hand combat with the elven front lines. Elven warriors put out their blades, and hacked off many orcish heads. They fought valiantly, and with great battle-rage and courage, but the orcs just kept coming, ignoring their fallen comrades. Step by step, elves were pushed back into the hills, taking great losses. Orc losses were even greater still, but their number was still great, and battle was not going well for the elves. They continued their pitched retreat over the hills surrounding the burning orc camp. Alfred noticed a big group heading towards their part of the ridge, and made a sign to his men indicating to stop their fire and to lay low. All of Alfred's men momentarily let go of their bows, and lay even further to the ground, not making a sound. Alfred saw that Rasha's men had stopped fireing as well, and hoped that their group won't get noticed in all this carnage and darkness. Thus his men lay and waited.

From his vantage point Alfred was having trouble judging how the battle was going, since the orcs had already pushed most of the elven archers deeper into the hills, and sounds of combat were dying out quickly. The large group of orcs heading Alfred's way suddenly turned, attracted by a loud skirmish in the trees east of Alfred's position, and Alfred sighed heavily with exasperation as they turned and missed his waiting men by no more by two dozen strides. Luckily, in the dark of night, and on gray background, his men were all but invisible. As minutes passed, sounds of battle died as the orcs pushed the elves out of the hearing range. The hills around Alfred and his men were strewn with bodies, elven and otherwise. The sight of all this carnage was terrible to behold, but Alfred's heart burned with rage, and he could only look in satisfaction as the remaining tents in the orc camp burned to the ground, with the leftover patrols not even bothering to try to put out the fire. Rather, they were very busy scavenging the battlefield and robbing the dead warriors. The elite barracks, however, were not touched by the fire, partly because they were behind a wooden wall, and also because the bugbears there had rallied the smaller orcs into preventing the fire from reaching the walls. Now as the commotion died down, Alfred noticed that the light in the window was out, and he also saw a hooded figure commanding the bugbears putting the fires out. Orcsú larger cousins were more intelligent, and much more organized, and were thus much more dangerous opponents.

Several minutes passed in expectation. Alfred counted the remaining enemy troops. About one score orcs and five to six dozen bugbears were left in the encampment. The barracks' gate was now wide open, and guard had been relaxed. If they struck now, Alfred thought, they might succeed. As if Rasha had read his mind, suddenly a great blue arrow rose high into the sky, lightinthe whole orc camp like the middle of the day. With a high cry, he jumped up and led his men to the gate. Orcs were blinded for a moment or two, then they screamed and split into confused group as the Gorbag's men descended upon them like wolves. Rasha'a group was quickly approaching the main gate, and a large group of bugbears ran out to intercept her. Alfred noticed them, and turned his men toward the bugbears. They caught them from behind just as the were getting through the gate. A fierce battle ensued. Alfred was in the front of his men, and he almost ran into a large bugbear, a sergeant leading his troops. The enemy brought down his scimitar on Alfred's head, but Alfred ducked in the last possible moment. With a cry of rage, he sheathed the Sword of Light, and brought it down on his foe in a fast sweep right into his neck. The Sword shone brightly, blinding the bugbear. As the sergeant brought his hand up to protect his eyes from the blinding brilliance, Alfred's sword struck at his neck, and cut his head off neatly. The beheaded corpse slid down into the down in a spray of its own blood. Two more bugbears charged Alfred, one from each side. As the first one brought his scimitar to bear, Alfred ducked aside and hit the back of his foe's arm with his elbow, bringing him off-balance. Meanwhile, the second one struck at Alfred from the other side. Alfred brought his sword up, and the blades collided in mid-air, clanging loudly. Alfred then used his strength, and pushed his sword up, disarming the enemy. As his scimitar flew away from him, the bugbear tried to reach his dagger in his belt and to stab Alfred. His hand was already lifting the dagger, when Alfred struck a side blow into his enemy. The blade struck into his side, and Alfred kept it going, until bugbears' bowels burst out and spread on the ground. The bugbear let out a piercing shriek, and fell to the ground. As Alfred was turning to face another foe, the second bugbear sneaked from his back, and brought down his scimitar on Alfred's head. A rustle behind him warned Alfred, and he ducked aside. The blade caught him in the shoulder. The armor held, but the blade pierced the flesh beneath it. Alfred let out a groan of pain, and turned around, sweeping behind him with his leg. He struck the bugbear into the stomach. As the enemy folded into two in pain, Alfred slashed him with his sword. The bugbear screamed and fell, clutching at Alfred's sword. With a disgusting sloshing sound, Alfred pulled out his sword out of the bugbears' dead body.

All around him his men were hacking at their foes. Alfred helped one of his men, that was wounded in the leg, by striking down his foe, and helped the man regain his footing. As Tarnak finished off the last standing enemy, he shouted to Alfred:

-Sir, the enemy has been dispatched! But I see another group coming from the barracks, and Gorbag is beginning to retreat back into the hills! What should we do?

Alfred looked around. Gorbag's group has killed many orcs, and set the remains of the main camp on fire, but they were now retreating under a shower of arrows into the hills. Although they were dragging most of the enemy's force with them, a large group of about fifty orcs was coming at them. Another group of bugbears were coming closer and closer to where they stood, just outside the barracks' gates. His men had only suffered light wounds, and Rasha was still battling the sentries on her side of the barracks, so he had to give her more time. Thus he shouted back to Tarnak:

-Tarnak, take half of the men, and guard my back. Stop those orcs - Alfred pointed back to the group coming at them from the main camp - over there any way you can. When you can hold no more, head back to the meeting place. Rest of you, with me!

Tarnak shouted:

-It shall be done, sir! - and ran off to meet the orcs with a dozen men. Alfred then shouted:

-All right now, everybody with me! Charge!

He led his group right into the bugbears running at them with a loud scream. Bugbears screamed also, and both groups clashed with a terrible noise. Alfred and his men fought like demons, and Alfred hacked and slashed left and right, sending many a foe to the underworld, not heeding his own wounds. But bugbears kept coming at them. His men were falling, cut down by their foes' scimitars. But Alfred was still alive, and was still fighting as if he could slay them all by himself. Suddenly he was alone for the moment, bodies all around him. He saw a dozen foes striking down at two of his surviving men. With a great effort, he ran into them, and struck them down from behind. His attack renewed the failing spirit of his two comrades, and they struck at their enemies with a ferocity unseen before. Bugbears panicked under the strength of Alfred's strikes, and tried to retreat. But all was in vain. Alfred and his two men struck them down even as they fled back to the barracks, screaming in terror. Alfred stood on the battlefield, no foes in sight for a moment. He was bleeding from many wounds, but the adrenaline rush made him not notice anything. He turned to his men, and shouted over the din the battle:

-You two, retreat immediately! Your chore is done! Head back to the meeting place. I'll join the Rasha's group! Go now!

Reluctantly, Alfred's men turned and started for the hills. Behind them Alfred saw that Tarnak had already pulled out and that orcs were coming to the gate. He smiled at the sight of the pile of orcish bodies where they tried to go through Tarnak and his men. As he was turning around to go join Rasha as she and her men put the elite barracks to fire, something struck him at the side.

Alfred felt excruciating pain at his side, and folded for a moment. Then, with a great effort of will, he fought the pain, and stood up, facing his foe. He was looking at a dark hooded figure, not more than twenty feet away from him, as it laughed at him. The figure then raised its hands, and dark power trickled between its fingers. Alfred recognized the touch of dark magic. He was facing a necromancer, the figure he saw from the hill. The figure spoke in an evil voice:

-You pathetic human, you think you could just come in here and destroy my army. You will pay for your insolence!

And the necromancer spread his hands, and a dark blue bolt lashed from his fingertips, striking at Alfred. Alfred sank to his knees, as the pain attacked his brain. He then tried to rise and strike the necromancer with his sword, but as he made the first step, necromancer released another bolt and brought Alfred again to his knees. Necromancer laughed again, and said to Alfred:

-You still fight, human? Your cause is hopeless. My orcs have crushed your elves, and are coming back right now to deal with your pathetic diversion. You are done with. And now...

As the necromancer prepared to deal his final blow to Alfred, his face writhed in pain. As the necromancer turned around, Alfred saw Rasha attacking the necromancer from behind. She unsuccessfully slashed at him several times, while the necromancer laughed.

-You cannot hurt me! I am Dar'Thragh, High Lord of Frath, master of orcs! I am invincible!

Dar'Thragh struck Rasha down with another one of his bolts. As she fell unconsciously to the ground, Alfred rose in rage, and lifted his sword. As the necromancer vented out his rage on Rasha's unconscious body lying on the ground, Alfred summoned his magic to give him strength, and rushed into the necromancer with a bloodthirsty scream:

-Die, you monster!

Dar'Thragh tried to turn and deflect Alfred's blow, but Alfred expertly brought his blade down on his opponents' hands. Sword flashed as it cut the necromancer's wrists off, black blood gushing from them. DAr'Thragh screamed in pain, and lunged for Alfred. Alfred stiffened his blade, and set it right in front of himself. The necromancer impaled himself on the blade, screaming. As the magic of the sword broke his undead flesh, his soul left this world, and his flesh turned to dust. His cape slid to the ground, as Alfred dropped his sword. He jumped to Rasha, and tried to wake her up. Luckily, she had only suffered flesh wounds, and dark spell laid on her had been browith the necromancer's death, so Alfred was able to wake her up within moments.

As she came to, Alfred helped her up, and took his sword from the ground. He now saw that her men had been successful; the whole camp was on fire, red flames cleansing all the filth and evil of the orcs. Rasha tried to speak, but was still too weak. Alfred motioned her to save her strength, and then put her on his back. Her weight settled on him like an eternal weight on his soul, and all he wanted was to lie down and rest. But the sounds of orcs coming brought him out of his moment of weakness. He shrugged and started to run toward the hills with Rasha on his back.

As Alfred lunged into the welcoming darkness of the hills, he stopped to see the camp behind him. Orcs following him lost him in the flames of the camp, and were now scattering away in all directions. Fire was raging uncontrolled in the camp, and soon all of it would burn. Alfred smiled with satisfaction. Their attack at least was a success. By the time sun rises in the east, there will be nothing left here but smoking piles of black ashes. He then turned around and started to walk to the meeting place in the hills. Ridges were dark and cold. Alfred stepped up his walk, although he was so tired that every step was an agony of pain. Rasha slid back into unconsciousness. Ridges followed one another, as the night approached its end. Slower and slower did Alfred move, but his will was strong and his mind set, and he kept walking to the valley where he could finally rest. He had lost a lot of blood, and as the first light of dawn lit the sky, he started to hallucinate with fever. Strange images filled his mind, old friends and new, terrible foes, beautiful lands, wonders he had seen. All through this madness a quiet voice in the back of his mind kept telling him this was not real, and that voice kept him on the right track.

Finally, he stepped over the last ridge, and looked into the dark valley below. He saw naught a fire or a camp, but stumbled down into the valley still. His strength was nearing its end. His eyes looked for the yellow and blue flag, but found none. At last he collapsed in the center of the valley, his consciousness fleeing into the dark place where Men go when they dream. A couple of figures emerged from behind the stones in the valley, and approached him and Rasha. As one of the figures bent down, it made a quiet sigh of relief, and told the others:

-Thank the gods! It is them. I know not how come they got out of that hell alive, but I am certainly grateful. Take them to the camp!

Other hooded figures took Alfred and Rasha, and brought them to the center of the valley, behind a large group of stones. There they set them down, and quietly tended to their wounds. Brigands took off their armor, and gave them water, bandaging their wounds. Alfred shuffled, and moaned in sleep while they turned him over. A small fire was lit, and its light shone over a small yellow-and-blue flag standing behind a large rock. As the brigands prepared breakfast for themselves, the brigand commander walked to the edge of the ridges surrounding the valley, and stood there. As the first golden rays of sunlight lit his face, Gorbag sheathed his sword, and feeling the warmth of the sun on his face, silently spoke to no one in particular:

-Welcome, oh sun. Today shall you shine long and brilliant, as the land rejoices our victory. Darkness is done. Let the light shine henceforth!

And as to confirm his words, sunlight seeped like a golden sea, filling the valleys, and exposing their morning beauty. A new day rose over the northern plains, glorious as the sunlit sky.