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The Shrine of the Eight Zephyrs is a holy site built further inland from the delta of the great River Cirilith. Twice have the Dark Elves attempted to take the Shrine. Their first attack had been rebuffed as they tried to negotiate the River's roaring waters, only for the Asur to bombard them with magic that sank the invaders. The years later, a second attempt occured during the oversight of Syndallian, a mage answering to Prince Elurian. This second attack was initially seen as skeleton crews upon the enemy dhows. Unwilling to embarrass herself by alerting the Prince without knowing more about the foe's numbers, Syndallian used magesight to perceive a bird's eye view of the surrounding pine forests, thrilling at the exultation as her senses arrowed through the evening haze. Relief at the scarcity of the enemy warriors, however, soon wilted like a poisoned flower. Something was wrong. Very wrong.[1a]

Soon enough she realized it to be a feint, a carefully judged misdirection intent to send the High Elf forces to the banks of the river. Scanning in desperation, she picked out a startled flock of birds rising from the serene forest to the east. The stealthy Druchii were a couple hundred metres away at most.[1a]

Cursing herself for her laxity, Syndillian sprinted down the balcony to the great dragon-horn adorning the building's immaculate facade, and the sonorous, pure note of the shrine's alarm rang out over the forest. There was no option: abandon the sacred shine and redraw the battle lines facing the eaves of the forest. Silent tears trickled down her pale cheeks as her brethren began to file out of the shrine and harsh warcries echoed from the cover of the trees. There would be innocent blood spilt on the soil of Ulthuan this day, and there was ever possibility it would be hers.[1a]

Source

  • 1: White Dwarf #312
    • 1a: pg. 72
    • 1b: pg. 89

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