Jean's banners fluttered high above the standard bearers. They had found themselves in the forest, a pure and peaceful glade bathed in the moonlight. The droplets of water from an earlier rain were glowing with a white radiance, slowly crawling down the trees that shrouded the glade. As each droplet trickled down like a tear, they rippled through the waters in an almost holy silence. Jean's pegasus, Skie, trotted calmly to the side of the glade and laid himself down. His knights had made camp for the night, but there were still many matters to attend to. Jean had paced about, his muscles tense from the endless battles, the bloodshed, the war, all of it.

'Henri.' Jean called as he stood by the moonlit glade. As his errant came forth, he continued in a calm voice, 'What news have you on the forces in the Northernmost forest?'

'Well sir, the Elves have found it in them to side with us, and we have cut off too many enemies to count. The River, though, stays untouched. Settra is rumoured to still be in these parts, mi'lord.' He reported.

'What news of Sir Beoveld and his quest in the badlands?' Jean asked in return.

'Word has it he has claimed a total victory over the lands. Whatever is left is just smaller bands of the undead, which are no threat to us now, sire.' Henri replied.

'Send him word again that the true pursuit of Settra is now in the Marches and by the River. He must know they are sailing down now. We need his aid in our quest. To have his lances with ours, we would be an unstoppable force.'

'Yes sir, I will send Knights to him now, sir.'

The battles had been long and hard. Though the knights of not only Vaudreuil, but many other castles who had lent their lances to the cause marched with Jean, it had been a strenuous journey. Many had been lost in the countless battles. Too many. The Orcs that had been burning and pillaging the forests for the past weeks had engaged the Bretonnian forces, whittling them down again and again. Even some Imperials had faced against Jean's forces, questioning his purpose in their forest. After the vicious slaughters, this night of peace was well-earned and the only thing he asked for.

He needed to speak with Sir Beoveld immediately. As soon as he got here they would become a force capable of pushing back towards the river. In a glorious charge to cleanse the Reik's Marches, they would ride from west to east and every foe that stood in their way would be killed. Having Sir Beoveld with him would allow for the liberation of the Bergerhoff. The long siege at the walls was pushing back the Imperial forces now, and no one knew how long it would be until they lost the city.

As Jean walked to Skie and began brushing his hand through the hair of his Pegasus, he smelled something. 'Chaos,' he mumbled under his breath, turning to hear beasts in the woods coming upon them.

'Knights! Rally! The foe is upon us!' He shouted, drawing his blade and mounting Skie, riding back and ringing the alarm. The knights rose in an instant, already armoured and prepared. Beasts began pouring from all around the woods.

'Steady!' Jean shouted, waiting for the right moment. As the knights mounted their warhorses, their lances ready in the middle of the night, Jean's voice rang out: 'Charge!'

The Knights kicked their horses, and the peasants pulled their arrows, Jean himself hovered above the ground on Skie's wings, his blade cutting through the first beast with ease.

***