Winter 964 MC
The Elven Necromancer Kythelia, recently known as Lady Penelope Cromwell, gazed across the windswept land before her. The wind blew in from the west, driving snow through the ruins to settle against the small stone walls that still remained.
"Do you know where we are?" she said.
Her companion, Princess Margaret, cast her eyes around, taking in the bleak landscape.
"No?" she said. "Why, should I?
"Centuries ago," said the Elf, "there was a great battle here between the Elves and the Orcs of this land. The Elves carted off their dead, but the Orcs, vanquished, were left to rot, their bones bleaching in the sun." She gazed up at the winter sky. "Of course, it was summer when they fought, but that matters little for our purposes."
"I see no sign of bones," said Margaret.
"
