Sigvald's Folly

It was the year 211 of the 11th Phoenix King. Having long felt aggrieved that the folk of Ulthuan were renowned for more fulsome and golden locks than he, Prince Sigvald took ship to the Island, his goal to scalp every Elf who crossed his path. With him traveled an army of blood-hungry Chaos Warriors, who cared not why Sigvald brought war to the Elven realm, so long as there was plunder to be taken and the glory of the Dark Gods to be earned.

Princess Eldyra, by now a general in her own right, led the counterattack. Initially unsure of the Chaos horde's size, Eldrya elected to harry the force as it headed inland. Charioteers were tasked with hunting down and eliminating Sigvald's scouts, whilst Shadow Warriors launched daring night-time raids to destroy supplies, slay horses and assassinate the Chaos Lord's lieutenants. At Eldrya's direction, spells of concealment hid towns, waystones, and mansions from the oncoming foe. Harried and blinded, Sigvald's army was soon lost in the Cothique highlands.

Division soon set in amongst the Chaos ranks, for there was little plunder, and no glory at all in enduring the lethal pinpricks of the Shadow Warriors' attacks. Sigvald had to best ever more frequent challenges to his leadership, yet pride would not allow him to turn back or compromise his goals. Soon, he had slain as many of his own lieutenants as had the Shadow Warriors who plagued his advance. It was in the midst of one such death-duel, begun by a hulking brute named Dranak Goredrinker, that Eldrya finally unleashed her attack.

Pennants streaming, great spear-formations of Silver Helms pierced the heart of the Chaos army, slaying a great many of the Northmen before they could even form up. Even then, the Chaos Warriors could have prevailed, had Sigvald found it within himself to set aside his enmity with Goredrinker for a few hours. As it was, Sigvald's vain refusal to halt the death-duel for such a trifling occurrence as an enemy attack cost his army dear. By the time night fell, the High Elves had won a crushing victory. Goredrinker had fallen to Sigvald's silver blade, and what little remained of the Chaos army had scattered and fled. For his part, Sigvald simply wandered off in the final stages of the battle, hacking down any who tried to stop him. Goredrinker's spilt blood had reminded the prince of a particularly rancorous bottle of Bretonnia n wine he had once sampled, and he was suddenly minded to wreak vengeance on its creators.