The Dark Lord rode out from the shadows astride a powerful black stallion. Close behind him on their own strong mounts came three of his four Dread Lords who were followed by one of his Dark Stars and twelve incredibly huge barbarian slave warriors. The Dark Lord led them up a narrow path to the top of a rocky outcropping jutting from the mountain wall. As far as he could see it was the highest point around and gave him the best view of the High King's stronghold and the spacious field laying to the front of it. He wished to watch as the final parts of his plan to destroy the Elven Vale played out.

It was the darkest part of the night with sunrise only a few short hours away when the Dark Lord rode up onto the top of the rocks. The darkness was growing even deeper as the winter storm picked up in intensity once again and dense black storm clouds moved in. The wind blowing through the Vale ignited a firestorm in the forests and villages on the hills around the stronghold. The fires were too far away to provide any light and it could not penetrate the darkness of the thick flurries of smoke, ash and snow blowing about the hills. Heavy gusts of wind also blew the thick flurries through the Elves standing below cutting down their vision to just a few paces. The only usable light on this side of the Vale came from the Elven stronghold which seemed to have every lamp and torch burning along its fortifications and battlements.

The Dark Lord awaited the last of his Dread Lords who was pushing his black steed hard across the floor of the Vale. He was returning from a failed mission to take the large tunnel the Elves constructed in the side of the valley wall. He thought the Elves extremely foolish as he spied on their efforts over the turns to try and harness the power of the great white wyrms of the north. The Dark Lord planned for a different use of the tunnel to the Top of the World. He wished to channel swirls from the Kingdom of the Fell Ice through it and into the southern lands. With this awesome power at his side there would be no enemies able to stand against him.

To his great anger the black sorcerers in charge of the attack on the Elven Mages and soldiers protecting the tunnel made their move too soon. They were not powerful enough to strike down those with the Good Magick. Only his Dread Lord stood a chance against the defenders of the tunnel and he arrived too late. The Elves were able to implement their powerful wards of Good Magick protecting the breach. They pulled down the support timbers running throughout it's entire length, collapsing it totally, before they were overwhelmed. By the time his Dread Lord arrived the opening was sealed and no longer a link to the Fell Ice.

The attack on the western end of the Vale was saved for last. With the destruction of the dome and the House of Mage Lore the Dark Lord could feel the strength of the Good Magick in the Vale reduced dramatically. The palace of the High King was the last bastion left for the Elven magick to reside in. The palace was the stronghold the Elves named 'Morfgroth Dorthore'. It was a mighty, gleaming fortress with thick walls of stone and powerful wards of the Good Magick protecting it. It lay nestled against the mountain walls of the Vale with a great field of grass before it. The Dark Lord sat upon his black steed and watched as the black horde of his army chased the last of the refugees from throughout the Vale into the safety of the stronghold.

The Master of the black horde took a closer look at those who stood upon the large expanse of grass-covered field before the Elven stronghold. He looked upon the Elven army, aligned row after row, standing before his approaching horde. There were thousands upon thousands of Elven soldiers almost filling the huge field. The bulk of the Elven army were heavily armored infantry carrying tall sturdy shields and holding long, wickedly pointed spears.

Interspersed among the front lines of the Elven infantry were the large wolves from the snowy plain. They moved in unison with the soldiers as they fought alongside pulling down his attacking slave warriors for the Elves to dispatch with a sword or spear strike. The Dark Lord could see they only left the sides of the Elves to attack his black wolves when they came in close. The big wolves could not abide their mortal enemies on the field. Behind the Elven infantry and in front of the stronghold walls stood several thousands of archers carrying tall longbows. They fired volley after volley of arrows far over the heads of the infantry into his black horde with devastating effect. On each side of the army waiting in the wings the Dark Lord could see thousands of Elven cavalry next to the tall mountain walls the stronghold was built against. These mounted soldiers were also heavily armored as were the horses they sat upon. Their formations rode in circles on the field churning up the ground as they anxiously waited for the call to battle. Lastly the Dark Lord watched as Mages moved to the forefront of the Elven lines and joined with others who were already there. They each carried their dangerous staffs of power in which they collected strands of the Good Magick. The Mages were deadly with the staffs as they used them to wield streams of white fire.

The Dark Lord looked on as his horde of slave warriors and black wolves, being pushed by his Dark Stars, began their attacks on the Elven host. Wave after wave of the horde started falling on the Elven lines and each one broke like water against rock. He tolerated a quick thought of regret as he watched the battle below. It was a pity to destroy these Elven warriors and large wolves who were such an effective fighting force. He was annoyed the spells of compulsion through the Black Magick were not strong enough to enslave them. What an army he would have if they could be bound to his will. Every Elf of the Vale and wolf of the snowy plains were endowed with the spirit of the Good Magick. It resided very strong in some while in others it could be very weak. No matter the strength they all carried the magick and it denied his efforts to control them. The Dark Lord spent countless hours studying the thousands of spells on the ancient sheepskin scrolls of the Black Druids and could find no spell to counteract the Good Magick. Just as he could not take the life force of an Elf or Tundra Wolf through sacrifice on the altar table, he could not take their will for the bonds of enslavement. The only option left to the him was to destroy them utterly.

He quickly forgot his thoughts of enslavement and sacrifice and turned his attention back to the battle at hand. He was unconcerned as he watched his slave warriors and black wolves die by the thousands attacking the Elven army below. He was not bothered as hundreds of his black sorcerers were burned down by the Elven Mages with flames of white fire from their staffs of power. As the Dark Lord sat upon his horse he went into the minds of others on the Vale lands and under them ensuring all was ready. The last of his Dread Lords came riding up the rocky outcrop on his lathered black steed who was close to death. With all of them now at his side he prepared to send out the orders that would put the next part of his terrible plan in motion.

The High Mage to the King rushed from the throne room with five Battle Mages around him and thirty of the Mage Guard following. He was making his way through hallways crowded with soldiers to the walls of the stronghold. The High Mage had just spent the last several hours since the falling of the dome persuading High King Adorellan to stay in the palace proper with his family. He was still somewhat angry having to take so much time with the 'child King', as he thought of him. Nardual thought anyone under a thousand turns old a child. He wished the King's father Adraillion was still in the Vale, he would have known how to take charge of this situation. The time the High Mage spent with the King could have been better used arranging the Elven army against the attacking forces of the Black Magic. Fortunately there were several High Generals staying at the palace when the attacks began. They too were young and close friends of the High King, he hoped they didn't muck it up too much.

The Generals had quickly rushed to the garrisons within the stronghold and wasted no time ordering soldiers to the field. They sent commands through the aether summoning those of the Elven army throughout the Vale to report to 'Morfgroth Dorthore' without delay. There was a chance Elves weak in the White might not hear the call. So the Generals also had the Horn of Filvandor blown which signaled Elves an immediate threat was upon the Vale. The horn was huge and made of brass running through the mountain wall above the stronghold. It was built into the rock and one slight puff on the mouthpiece sent a bellow reverberating throughout the Vale. It was at least an age since the blowing of the horn as far as Nardual could remember, but every Elf knew the warning it sounded. Warriors throughout the Vale would be rushing to get to the stronghold.

The Generals should have also sounded the Bell of Valindra hanging in the mountains above the horn. The Bell was also huge and made of brass. With one slight pull of a slender rope the Bell was set in motion sending deep gongs throughout the Vale. The Bell's tolling meant beware, be cautious, enemies about. The High Mage worried as he ran to the walls of the stronghold. The High Generals sent no note of caution when summoning the soldiers, no warning of potential ambush from roving bands of the black horde. How many soldiers would he see on the field when he reached the walls he wondered, how many would be lost in their haste to get here. There was nothing for it, the High Generals were making the plans and giving the orders while he had been stuck arguing with the High King.

The High Mage Nardual ran to the tallest battlements over looking the wide expanse of the 'Belanor Folas' below. Not knowing what to expect he was awe struck when he looked down upon row after row of Elven soldiers arrayed on the field of Belanor before the stronghold of Morfgroth, and more were still coming out of the gates and moving through the lines into their commands. In all of his long turns never did Nardual see the field filled with so many warriors ready to do battle. It was only ever used as a parade field showing but a glimpse of the Elven might of the Northern Vale. Light from the stronghold and from flickering torch flames on the field reflected off of the gleaming armor and weapons of the thousands of Elven warriors. The strong winds and blowing snow of the winter storm had no affect on the soldiers as they stood arrow straight in their fighting formations.

The High Mage to the King looked down to see how well the Generals laid out the forces of the Elven army. On the front lines were Mages of all orders standing shoulder to shoulder with the Mage Guard. The Mages stood still and held their staffs forward while silently chanting. With his Mage Sight Nardual could see wisps of White Magic being drawn into bright balls of white fire growing on ends of their staffs. The warriors of the Mage Guard in their bright winged helms and flowing black cloaks stood in rings around the Mages. If an enemy came near these warriors would become blurs on the field as they moved swiftly and fluidly striking them down. These soldiers were strong in the White Magic and it gave them great speed, stamina and strength. With shield and sword the Mage Guard would fight to the death defending the Mages who needed time to draw the White Magic into their staffs.

As Nardual watched the first blows of battle were starting as brilliant flashes lit up the night along the front lines of the Elven host. Mages were beginning to unleash streams of white fire into the black horde as it drew near. He could see their prime targets were the black sorcerers who were driving the slave warriors to attack. With the power of the Sight he saw the bodies of the sorcerers burning and giving off the foul residue of the Black Magic as a thick oily black smoke blowing about in the wind.

On the left side of the field the High Mage could see warriors of the Norvale Guard in their blue tinted armor. They held long spears pointed to the sky with flags flying on the ends of sky-blue trimmed in gold. Over two hundred of the gate warriors had escaped the terrible fate of their brethren. They had been garrisoned at the stronghold for training and parade duty when the attacks came. The Norvale Guard stood at the front lines behind the Mage Guard. They no doubt wanted payback for their fallen comrades the High Mage thought.

On the right side of the field opposite the Norvale Guard were five hundred of the House Guard to the High King. They stood in two lines across the field in their burnished heavy armor reflecting the gold tint. Their flags of gold trimmed in silver shown brightly in the torch light as they fluttered wildly from the wind of the storm. The House Guard was the army of the High King and the ones standing below were one of the ways Nardual persuaded the High King to stay with his family. He commanded the Generals to put a token force of the Golden Warriors on the field to fight in place of the High King. Normally all of the House Guard would be in the stronghold with the King and his family. Five hundred of the House Guard's strongest soldiers stood ready to fight behind the Mage Guard. The other two thousand manned the walls of the stronghold.

Lastly the High Mage looked upon the warriors making up the bulk of the Elven host below. In their plain steel armor and flying flags of many colors stood the Royal Army of the Northern Vale. Nardual did not know their numbers but he could see thousands of them holding shield, spear and bow stretching across the field of Belanor. Most of the cavalry waiting in the wings as well as a good portion of the soldiers guarding the walls of the stronghold were also of the Royal Army. These were some of the finest warriors of the Vale and the Elves of all of the Guards below had started as a soldier in the Royal Army.

Nardual was amazed that such an army of Elven warriors could be fielded in so little time. Most of the House Guard were garrisoned at the stronghold, as were the remaining Norvale Guard plus two thousand of the Royal Army. That accounted for about five thousand of the soldiers below. The High Mage estimated the other fifteen to twenty-thousand warriors had to make their way to the stronghold after the attacks began. Most had their homes in the city of Horith-Ellan that lay not too far to the north. The rest came from surrounding dells close to the stronghold. Nardual was puzzled as to how so many made it through the roving bands of enemy warriors virtually unscathed. Every where he looked on the eastern side of the Vale floor Elven bands were being attacked and destroyed by overwhelming forces of slave warriors driven by black sorcerers coming from holes opened up in the ground. Nardual could see the Elven warriors standing in front of the stronghold were now the only effective fighting force left within the entire Vale, and the army was now all in one place. The High Mage was troubled by that thought as he looked beyond the Elven lines to the black horde that approached.

He scanned the land beyond the Elven lines wanting to get a good look at the enemy before going down to join the Host below. The High Mage cowered a bit when he saw the vast horde of slave warriors, black sorcerers and Grim Wolves. They were moving to form a solid front against the Elven lines fanning out in front of the stronghold. He grew a bit nauseous when he felt the thick taint of the foul Black Magic emanating from the approaching horde. He could see evil black sorcerers driving gangs of slave warriors into the Elven lines as they chased after refugees who still ran for safety from the Vale floor. The lines opened up to let the fleeing Elves through and then quickly closed once they passed and braced themselves for the charge of slave warriors and black wolves. The enemy warriors ran into a wall made of the armored Elven soldiers carrying tall shields and weapons of spear and sword. They were quickly dispatched as the soldiers impaled them with their spears and hacked off their heads with their long swords. Black wolves ran out from between the legs of the enemy warriors and jumped at the Elves with snarling black fangs. Tundra Wolves met the black wolves wherever they could find them. Terrible wolf fights broke out and the battle they fought was to the death. The Elven soldiers helped where they could as they locked shields to block the black wolves and killed them as they stabbed down with their long spears. Nardual was proud as he watched the Elven army work and most proud of his Mages as they sent their streams of white fire into the enemy horde.

Nardual thought on the death knells of Orndacil and Ilphas he heard earlier in the night. Theirs were just two amongst the thousands of other Elves meeting their end this night. His sorrow was deep but there was no time to dwell on it. He was now the most powerful High Mage of the Northern Vale, a title he had never desired and one he did not think he would hold for long. The attack on the Vale was too well planned and too well coordinated. He felt a trap as he looked down at the mass of Elven forces below. There was no way the black horde could overcome these soldiers of the Vale as he watched every charge they made break upon the lines. He felt deep into his bones something else was coming and he worried he would not be up to the fight when it did. But there was nothing else for it Nardual thought as he looked on. This was the battle before him, he would do his best alongside the brave Elven warriors below.

The High Mage wondered where such a horde tainted so heavily in the Black Magic came from. How such a huge army of evil was not detected outside the bounds of the Vale was unimaginable. There must be some magic at work here able to hide such a horde, but such a magic was inconceivable to him. For one brief moment he recalled a memory, one from so very long ago, when a young Elf of the Western Vale bravely confronted Ilphas, Orndacil and himself to give dire warning of this very threat building deep in the Grimfangs. Sadly, he thought, if only they had not been so quick to dismiss this young Elf and his tidings of ominous peril. He took one last look at the field below and then left the high battlements. With five Battle Mages around him and thirty of the Mage Guard following they ran from the walls of the stronghold for the main gate below. It was time to join the Elven army and aid in the battle against the attacking horde.