Battle Masters - The battle for the Free Realms was at hand
Chapter 1: Gathering Storms The dawn sky bled iron-red as the twin suns of Chathral crept above the jagged horizon. Across the rolling plain of Ever’s Vale, two great armies stirred into grim life. To the east, on windswept grasslands dotted by weathered cairns, the Riders of the Silver Lance assembled in tight, gleaming ranks. Each knight sat tall upon his coal-black destrier, lance couched and banner unfurled—a gleaming pennant of silver stag upon midnight-blue. Morning mist curled around them like restless ghosts as the trumpeter’s call split the chill air, and hoofbeats drum-rolled in measured time. High atop a low rise, Ser Lucien Ardent surveyed his command. His armor—wrought in the forges of Stendar—shone like burnished moonlight, and his helm was crowned with a plume of white hawk feathers. At his side stood Lady Aveline Marault, her breastplate embossed with the sigil of her house: a rose aflame. “They’ll be upon us by nightfall,” she murmured, scanning the distant tre...