Ill Tides

 

King Athanagild ruler of Dyryth stared in disbelief at the herald who had brought him the devastating news. He could barely comprehend the news that his fleet had been destroyed and that his lands now lay open to assault from the sea. How could it be that the accursed Twilight Kin and devilish Abyssal Dwarfs had aligned themselves against him? Surely such a thing should be impossible? Unfortunately for him he had not heard about their previous alliance to assault the City of the Golden Horn. It had been successful enough for both sides to consider another temporary alliance but also did little to build any feelings of trust or friendship between the sides.

As one of the many Successor Kingdoms Dyryth was part of a patchwork of competing lands which would as often be at war with its neighbors as at peace. As such King Athanagild could expect no immediate assistance to repel this new and unexpected threat and would have to fight at least the first battle alone.

 

The Lands around the Infant Sea

Fortunately for him the elves and dwarfs took time to establish separate bases on islands just off the shore of Dyryth before launching their first attack. This gave Athanagild time to muster his forces for an all out strike against the enemy. He knew that they must not be allowed to gain a foothold on his lands otherwise they would never be evicted. The fact they had established separate bases also gave him hope as it suggested they did not entirely trust each other.

The Kingdom of Dyryth

Arlantrix cursed the Conclave for ordering her to work with the Abyssal Dwarves again, once had been more than enough. At least this time she had her own ships to command and the opportunity to advance the great work of restoring Ileureleith, or at least capturing the humans who would be put to that work. So for the time being she would supress her distain for the loathsome dwarfs and work with them to clear the human army as they had it’s naval forces.

A mad grin spread across Sycorax Ironjawz’s face, all but obscured by his bushy beard. All the months of scheming, conniving, bribing and one extremely gruesome assassin had paid off.  He had secured a solo command away from the city of Zarak and the machinations of the other Iron-casters. Here he would be able to gather wealth, power and glory for himself which no one would be able to claim as their own. The only fly in the ointment was the blasted elves he’s been forced to work with, for now.