Menacing thunderheads roiled overhead, at times unleashing powerful bolts of lightning that streaked across the sky to a booming chorus of thunder as if the weather was performing a deadly dance. Frosty lancets of rain cascaded from the heavens, soaking everything caught in it within a matter of seconds. Chilling wind howled through the passes, pulling cloaks open and exposing their wearers to the extreme weather.

Clusters of men sat forlornly beneath hastily erected roofs of canvas and oiled leather; the senior officers the only ones afforded the luxury of tents in the claustrophobic valley. Soldiers hugged themselves for warmth, their weapons lying beside them as they shivered and shook. Patrols regularly came and went, the fatigued and thoroughly saturated men taking welcome positions by the meagre fires as others steeled themselves for a miserable few hours in the passes.

Occasionally a fire went out, drawing groans and shouts from the soldiers who desperately tried in vain to get it going again, only to give up and move off in search of another one to stand beside, taking only the cover and leaving the wet, charred remnants behind.

Each peal of thunder shook the valley as its force was funneled through it, and most of the soldiers had been put on edge by the constant yet seemingly arbitrary booms. Many now jumped at anything and everything, their nerves completely torn. Others simply waited in silence, almost catatonic, their hands constantly at the hilts of their swords, the shafts of their pikes, the strings of their bows or the grips of their guns.

The war against the Orc tribe--under command of the Chieftain Galguz'zameg—had taken its steady toll both physically on the battlefields, and mentally in the passes, with a stalemate having developed in the tight corridors that riddled Stormbowl Valley, where legend has it two powerful mages of old once dueled, each erecting barriers around themselves and lowering their enemy's, creating a veritable maze of twists and turns, most only capable of fitting a single man through each time.

The magic, too, became trapped in the maze, and eventually created a perpetual storm above the valley. Of what happened to the mages, nobody knows. Some say they eventually met and slew each other, others say they went mad in their own maze and killed themselves, but what they wrought was both a blessing and a curse.

Galguz'zameg's assault against the Empire ground to a halt in the valley, but that in turn forced the Empire's own force, commanded by Captain Freidarik Lehnz, to maintain a full army at the mouth of the valley, to contain the Orcs until the tribe either gave up or fell to infighting.

The expected collapse of the Orc army was now long overdue.

A cheer suddenly rippled through the camp. Seats were upturned as soldiers rushed to their feet, half expecting an attack, only to have their gazes directed toward a moving clearing in the thunderheads. Through it, the clear blue sky stood out like an aquamarine gem against the obsidian blackness of cloud. Sunlight streamed through the gap, a column of shifting rays sweeping across the land of the Empire.

Captain Lehnz strode out of the command tent, followed by Markus, his attendant Warrior Priest, and the Celestial mage Anya, as well as a few other officers. He spotted the roving gap in the storm and clapped Markus on the shoulder, "Things are finally starting to look up, my friend, perhaps with two members of the Celestial Order we can break this damned storm and finally go about our job with the sun at our backs."

"Whoever it is that Balthasar sent seems capable enough of doing it alone." Markus replied, a rare smile gracing his lips.

It was Anya's face that bore the widest smile, "Oh, she is. It's no wonder we waited for so long to get some help, Balthasar want to ensure that we got the best."

Lehnz gave Anya a quizzical look, "You can tell who it is from here?"

"Yes." Anya nodded, "I recognise the way the sunlight is being focused, as well as the magic used. Every mage has a unique feel to their magic, and whilst it is usually masked, some stronger—or more arrogant—mages open it up to detection."

"And which is she? Strong? Or arrogant?"

Anya tucked a ringlet of red hair behind her ear as she thought, her face taking on a mischievous look, "Truthfully? Both."

***

With a lurch, the coach rolled to a stop. Isolda brushed aside a few wisps of golden hair and pushed the door open to rapturous shout, whoops and applause. The ground below was soft and muddy, closer to a runny brown liquid than dirt thanks to all the rain. With a flick of her hand, Isolda directed a focused sunbeam across the mud, vaporising the water with a loud hiss and cloud of steam to form a solid path across the marshy ground.

The act elicited only louder cheers from the crowd of soldiers, each of them soaked to their skin and all to pleased to be out of the rain. As Isolda had neared the camp she'd felt the familiar tingle of magic merging with her own to extend the ring of clear sky, and had known exactly what to expect once she arrived. She crouched low and stepped clear of the coach, the hem of her white corset dress brushing against the freshly dried dirt as she stepped onto firm ground.

Proudly, she drew her head up, stood tall with her shoulders back, and inspected the surrounding soldiers with a calculating stare. The cheering died out as each man withered under her gaze. Captain Lehnz pushed his way to the front of the gathered soldiers, his rugged, battle-scarred face a picture of fear and relief; he gave Isolda a slight nod, and it was returned in kind. Isolda shared a mutual look of recognition with the bald and well-built Warrior Priest, Markus, and then turned upon Anya. The red-haired woman stood shorter than most of the surrounding soldiers, and a full head shorter than the towering form of Markus, but she was the only one smiling; the only one who didn't carry a hint of fear in their eyes.

Isolda approached the trio, the ground solidifying beneath her feet as she walked until she was but a few inches from Lehnz's face, "Captain."

"Mistress." Lehnz replied, extending his arm before him. A handful of painfully long seconds passed until Isolda grasped his arm, and he hers. Smiles split their faces, "By the Gods, are we happy to see you." Once more the camp erupted into cheers, the soldiers' spirits lifted by the clear skies and the sight of the sun they so sorely missed. As Lehnz led Isolda through the crowd, she noted his officers ordering the grinning men back to their positions, shouting empty threats of lashings and executions if they didn't cooperate.

None them was in the mood to disobey any order right then; even if it had been the march to their doom, they would have done so with smiles upon their faces and the sun at their backs. Isolda wondered if they would indeed be called upon to do such a thing.

Lenhz spearheaded the group as they pushed through towards the tents, despite Markus shifting entire groups with just a glance in their direction. It seemed to Isolda that Lehnz had more than orc trouble if he needed to assert his authority through a proxy. It calmed her, though, to know that Anya was safe. She glanced down at the woman—hardly a girl when she had joined the order—and grinned to herself; she finally had her protégé back. Isolda wondered if Balthasar had sent her with the intent of completing Anya's induction into the higher echelons of the order.

Whatever his reasons, Isolda was only glad to be back in somewhat familiar company. The affairs of Murstvig were tiring in the extreme, and she had barely had a half hour to herself to think or sleep. Surrounded by men of the Empire and in the company of another of her order, she might not get the sleep she so craved, but at least she could be at ease, unlike her time within the thick white walls of Murstvig.

Something brushed against her, and she felt Anya's hand slip into her own. The redhead leaned in slightly, "I'm glad you're back; I missed you."

Isolda looked down into the face of the beaming woman, her bright brown eyes no different than she remembered. She squeezed Anya's hand and a smile spread itself across her lips, "I missed you too." Contented, Anya returned her gaze to watching the approaching tents. Isolda watched her for a minute, her smile melting away as she recalled the night she left.

It was true, she missed Anya dearly, but unlike the redhead, she was not glad at the meeting. She whispered a prayer to Shallya, that she have mercy just this once. As it had been each time she had prayed, the skies did not change their warning. She let go of Anya's hand, instead wrapping her arm around the redhead's waist and drawing her close.

The intent was now crystal clear to her; Balthasar had indeed sent her to complete Anya's ascension. She would be with the stars, at Shallya's side, soon enough.

Lehnz's command tent was reasonably large inside compared to how it looked from the outside. The thick canvas walls and ceiling let in little light, but they had kept the rain out, and scattered oil lamps ensured that darkness was confined to the corners of the tent. Baskets of rolled papers stood around the tent, likely orders or maps of the surrounding land. A few chairs sat empty near the sides, most of the seats had been pulled up around a large, square field desk made of simply yet sturdy oak so that it would survive the ordeals of military life. An assortment of papers were strewn across the desk, but the majority of it was covered by a broad map, the sides and corners held flat by all manner of assorted objects, from paperweights to lamps that had long run out of fuel, and even a boot caked in dried, flaking mud.

The map itself was incredibly detailed—no doubt thanks to Anya's help—and showed every part of the Stormbowl from a bird's-eye view. Some corridors through the valley had been crossed out, others marked with a '?' or a '!' to designate uncertain or treacherous areas. A large, hastily drawn skull near the opposite end of the valley represented the Orc tribe, and arrows drawn through the valley showed possible attack routes for the greenskins, as well as where they had been sighted or where they had previously attacked. Other arrows on the map showed various patrol routes for the Empire troops, as well as supply routes and even, to Isolda's surprise, a remarkably accurate route marking her own approach; Anya had obviously had plenty of opportunities to hone her skill.

Lehnz took up a position at the head of the field table, flanked by Markus and Anya. A small handful of other officers shuffled in after them, restoring themselves to their previous spots. Lehnz gestured at Isolda to come to the map table, despite the fact she was already halfway there; he seemed more concerned about appearing to be in command than actually commanding.

"We've no time to waste with pleasantries, I'm afraid." Lehnz said as Isolda reached the table, "The map you see here is the most detailed representation of the valley possible: all the passes found using the heavens, and the caves and sheltered routes using the shadows."

Isolda frowned at the last comment, "Using the shadows? Would you care to elaborate, Captain?"

"Oh, it's nothing really," He waved a hand dismissively through the air, "We originally had two mages, Anya, and another one from the Grey Order; the most suspicious man I've ever met if you ask me, not one for names either, it seemed." Isolda nodded, chewing her lip in thought, "He was called away by Gelt, said he was being replaced, and that's when we found out that you were coming; of course, we didn't know it would be you until Anya recognised your approach." He gestured to the blushing redhead beside him, her face almost the same colour as her hair. The giant of a Warrior Priest that towered over her gently patted her head, a toothy grin splitting his lips. His dark eyes didn't find Isolda's, instead, they were trained firmly on her bosom, as if she were the first woman he'd seen in years.

"I know him." Isolda suddenly felt cold, "I know him far too intimately for my own good."

Lehnz ran his tongue cautiously across his lips, "Yes, well, in any case, he's gone now, and we're probably all better for it." Markus nodded his agreement, though his grin still hadn't faded, neither had his eyes shifted. Lehnz pointed to a large crest on the map that marked the Empire's army, "That's where we are now, and where we've been stuck for weeks. The greenskins seem to be in the same position on the other side of the valley," He lightly tapped the skull at the other end of the map, "What we can do now the storm has broken for us, is begin to push further into the valley." He grabbed a pen, dipped it in a nearby inkwell, and hastily marked a few corridors deeper into the valley, "Here's where we last fought the greenskins—mostly rank and file ones interspersed with their savages—and also where the storm began to pick up. Since then we've had a few patrols attacked by goblins and archers, but we've had our own pathfinders doing the same to theirs."

Dipping the pen again, he circled the central clearing in the heart of the valley, "This is the only place we've not been able to scout, even the Grey mage couldn't find anything out. It seems that it's got a perpetual storm raging inside it that, if reports are correct, neither side has managed to successfully penetrate; that is to say that every patrol and scouting party sent out to it has yet to return.

"If we can lure the greenskins into that storm, and block the passages to the sides, we can send units to flank them using the outer corridors, and finally to seal them in by sending the main force the whole way around to strike at the rear. That way, they've no choice but to throw themselves on our blades, or weather the storm at the heart."

Lehnz looked reasonably smug as he awaited Isolda's opinion. His plan was sound in theory, but huge flaws would see it fail in practice, "A very nice plan, Captain, but what if the storm is simply a collection of rogue magic? Surely a tribe of this size has its own shamans capable of siphoning off, or even harnessing the power there to not only create a safe passage through to the Empire, but potentially turn these destructive powers against our own forces, or even blasting a straight line clean through the valley?"

Lehnz appeared skeptical, "Could an orc shaman really do that? I mean, if it is what you say it is."

Isolda nodded, "Yes, anyone with the ability to direct the winds of magic could attempt to siphon off rogue gatherings of it, or take ownership of the magic themselves."

Lehnz's face turned to thunder, and he shot Anya a murderous look, "Is this correct, Anya? And if so, why was I not informed?" Markus flexed his muscles behind the mage, making it clear that he could snap her in two if she didn't answer truthfully. Isolda almost laughed at the very idea of the warrior priest's arms being quicker than her magic.

Anya cowered under the gaze of the captain, "I... It is correct, captain." She hung her head and stared at the ground like a child being admonished by their parents, "I didn't tell you because... Because I wasn't sure myself if it was until now. Isolda only just confirmed my suspicions."

Lehnz cast a glare at Isolda, which she returned in kind, eventually forcing the captain to look away, "Be that as it may, I would, in the future, like to be informed of anything, and I mean anything, that could prove valuable information." He worked his jaw as he chewed over his next words, "Isolda has potentially stopped us walking into a major defeat, as well as preventing us from throwing the gates of the Empire wide to the greenskins, were she not here, we would likely all be dead soon enough." Isolda's face blanched at the last remark, but she maintained her composure.

Anya glanced up at Isolda, then turned, suddenly emboldened, to the captain, "With all due respect, captain, were Isolda not here, we would still be sitting in the rain doing sod all."

The tent fell silent as all eyes followed the captain. Lehnz looked apoplectic, his fury was barely contained and his hands were balled in tight fists at his sides, "Why you little bitch..." He glanced at Isolda, losing his resolve in the face of her unrelenting stare, "Go check the perimeter wards, now."

"But I only checked them an hour ago, they're the same as they have been for days: untouched." Anya protested.

"I said now!" Lehnz worked his jaw, grinding his teeth. His lips suddenly curled upwards in a sly grin, "Markus, go with her and make sure she doesn't go off doing something else, like collecting pretty wildflowers or whatever girls like to do nowadays."

Markus' smile grew wider, grasping some sort of hidden meaning as he followed Anya out of the tent. Isolda watched Anya cast a glance back over her shoulder, and she felt a sudden urge to gather the mage up and carry her back to the Celestial Order, but she could only watch as the redhead was ushered out of the tent by the warrior priest.

Lenhz followed Isolda's look, and chuckled, "Oh, don't worry about Anya, Markus will take good care of her; he always does." When Isolda cast him a quizzical gaze, he gestured back to the map, "Since the old attack plan has been scrapped, perhaps you would have some advice or new ideas? After all, it'll be a while before those two get back, so we might as well make the most of it."

Isolda needed to formulate no plan, she knew how it had to happen, but the facade must be maintained, "I have a few suggestions, yes."

Lenhz nodded and beckoned a few officers over, "See that you follow her orders to the letter, I have some important business to attend to." He turned back to Isolda, who folded her arms firmly beneath her breasts as if awaiting an excuse from a misbehaving child, "I must beg my leave, mistress, I am sure that you can appreciate that I have an camp to run and an army to keep in line, and my time cannot always be spent at the drawing board." He gave her a curt nod and strode to the mouth of the tent, "You have been allocated one of the larger tents, off near my own. Just let one of these gentlemen know when you wish to retire, or if there is anything else you require. My men can be really quite hospitable if you let them." He grinned to himself as he exited the tent, rubbing his hands together as if anticipating something exciting.

Isolda grabbed the arm of one of the officers, his face contorting in fear at the sudden action, "Captain Lehnz, how long has he been like this?"

The officer stared wide-eyed at Isolda, "I- Err- What?"

Isolda clenched harder, "I was told Lehnz was a cool-headed man, by Balthasar Gelt, no less. He said that 'Lehnz is the epitome of patience'. For how long has he been so hot-blooded?"

Frowning, the officer stilled, "Well, now you mention it, he has been a bit on edge ever since the Grey mage departed."

Isolda nodded and released the officer, who briskly walked off cradling his sore arm. She sighed and gathered the men Lehnz had called over, "I have a plan of action, but I will say it only once. Afterwards, you will escort me to my tent and not return until I come out, not even Captain Lehnz is to be allowed near it, am I understood?" The officers shared looks, but nodded their agreement, "Good, then listen closely, for I shall not repeat myself.”