The road to Kurktown was long, but the road to Garroway city would be even longer. Despite the Red Front's discipline, Fayyim was worried her men would fall to boredom and trouble would start from it. Continually on the journey she had her army sing songs, tell stories, even play games, all to keep the boredom at bay. Not everyone could make the journey in one stretch, people had lives on the outside. So when a group had to log off, Fayyim left one or two NPC guides behind to help the players when they returned. These non-player-characters were simple Soldier's from her ranks, paid for in advance at any Soldier Academy.

It was a relief to see the mountain rise up before them on the horizon. Mt. Kurknein was the highest peak in Hurdland, a fantastic mix of blue and purple stone and pure white snow. On the lower slopes grew green pine with oak, and amongst the south-east slopes was the brown and grey of Kurktown. The horses were tired at this point, the troops also. One more day of riding was ahead of them, and then a resupply and some time to rest would be gratefully accepted.

The Red Front set camp at dusk and slept, the next day they made their way to Kurktown and to their well deserved off-time. All except Fayyim, who had to deal with disgruntled Head Hunters looking to take up the position posted in her advert, and organise the resupply of her forces, and deal with town officials who wished to see and be seen with the new champion of Hurdland, and make a personal visit to the local stores. Fayyim was able to take an hour to sit, drink, eat and relax with her men after her duties, but then time was short and the day had gone and logging off to sleep was all that was left to do.

The next day saw the long journey to Garroway begin anew, with a stop at the jewel of Hurdland, the Great Castle Kurknein. It was after days on the road, through forest and grassland, and over hills, that the castle rose up like another Mt. Kurknein, which itself was left to sink at their backs, though never completely out of sight, such was its height.

The stones of the giant castle were the same blue-grey as Mt. Kurknein, the walls were higher than any city wall, towering above like sheer mountain cliffs. Fayyim knew that men were walking them far above, but too far for her to see. The blue stone stretched out for what seemed like miles around, a dark ring sitting on green land. Any trees that grew close to the wall were cut back to maintain a clearing for spotting enemies at the foot of the fort.

The southern gates came into view. They looked like the rest of the visible construct, blue stone, but with gigantic black iron hinges holding them into the stone archway that was a third of the height of the walls, yet still so high up that only the birds could reach the top. Carved into the gates were dark images of demons and monsters falling to the swords and hammers of ancient warriors in long hooded robes. Above them was a single knight riding a winged horse, wearing a hooded tunic under armour.

Wonderful. Fayyim was so often in the front lines of battle that she very seldom saw the gates of the Great Castle, but every time she did, the wonder and awe was renewed and she never once failed to go wide eyed and gasp. 'Shanks.'

The brown haired man appeared at her side, his horse dipping its head and then shaking its mane. 'Commander?'

'Take a retinue and go ahead, inform the castle Commander of our arrival. Make sure to bare the banners and shout loud. I want those gates ready and open, our Red Front will not stand and wait.'

'Yes Ma’am.' Shanks quickly left her side and gave a high pitched whistle, getting the attention of soldiers in the main column.

'Captain.' Fayyim called.

Hawthorn was never far from Fayyim's side, if he could help it. 'Yes Commander?'

Fayyim ensured her red ribbon was secured tightly in her hair, that her armour was clean and tidy. 'Raise the banners and flags, I want the castle to truly know that we have arrived.' She gave a half smile. 'The Order of the Silver Ram is stationed here, let them know that they are not the only ones who shine.'

'Rafael will bow before you, my queen!' Hawthorn laughed.

'Now now.' Fayyim replied. 'That comes later, today he sees an equal. At Garroway he will see a rival. After? We will see.'

Hawthorn bowed his head and rode his horse away. 'Banners!' He shouted. 'Banners!' Other voices echoed his call and the colours of the Red Front were raised. A high trumpet was sounded and a drum played at an upbeat rhythm amongst the sound of hooves and clinking armour.

Ahead, the gates cracked with light down the centre, then the entrance was opened and the castle was ready for them. The Red Front approached while many horsemen came from inside the walls and closed the gap. Shanks and his retinue were amongst them, a number of Knights were ahead, and with them were six important looking men.

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'Captain!' Fayyim called. 'Who do you see there?'

Hawthorn was at her side, squinting. 'I see Rafael. I'd know that silver armour anywhere. And then... I'm not sure, I can only just make them out, their banners too.'

Fayyim waited a minute, until those in her vision were closer. 'I see the Silver Ram, so yes, Rafael. Then a black circle on red. I don't know that banner. A golden spear on black. That's Demshir. A blue wolf on white, I don't know that either. I don't recognise the next either, I think a white stag on blue?'

'Looks like it.' Hawthorn replied.

'And the last is... A silver mirror on blue. Mirrormind? A bloody politician.' Fayyim sighed. 'Let's go greet them, Captain.'

'Yes Commander.' Hawthorn called back behind him. 'Lupin, keep the men in check, we're going ahead.'

The two galloped ahead as a “Yes Sir” was given by Lupin. Their horses headed for the gates, slowing to allow the welcoming party to round them and move to their side. Rafael gave a nod to Fayyim, the dark brown skin of his face dotted with tiny scars. His piercing green eyes were friendly, but as Fayyim always noticed, they had power to them. He wore armour so polished it had a mirror finish. A spiked mace hung at his side, and a kite shield as reflective as his armour hung over his back. Etched in to it was the image of a great woolly ram impaling a wolf on its long curled horns. Sheathed under his shield was a double handed great sword, long and broad and heavy.

Field Marshal Jonathan Demshir was in light armour, blue grey mixed with gold. He was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair cut short, his skin was tanned and his eyes were dark grey. He smiled and bowed. 'Commander Fayyim, your Red Front looks a sight indeed.'

'Thank you Field Marshal.' Fayyim bowed, she held back the proud smile that fought to cross her face. 'And thank you for coming out to greet us.'

'I would have preferred to stay inside, but you warriors do have your codes.' Mirrormind interjected. He was a tall, slim man in a dark blue tunic trimmed with black. His long black hair was brushed back and shone in the light of the sun.

Fayyim ignored him as they trotted through the gates of the castle. The high arch opened up to a dense ring of woodland. 'Forgive my ignorance, I am acquainted with Commander Rafael and Mirrormind, Field Marshal, but not the remainder of your company.

'Ah, indeed. Allow me to introduce you.' The Field Marshal gestured to the other two who rode with him. 'Riding under the black sun is Commander Funder of Dark Heat.'

The man was short and muscular, he had sunburnt skin and a square jaw, his hair was cut short and the colour was so light that Fayyim did not know if it was grey, white or blond. He was a Knight in black enamelled armour. 'It's finally nice to meet you, Fayyim of the Red Front.' He smiled and bowed his head.

'And you, comrade.' Fayyim returned the gesture.

'And this is Commander Alexander, who rides beneath the blue wolf.' Demshir continued.

The man was silent, but bowed politely enough. He was a Knight that wore sky blue armour trimmed with white. He was young and handsome, but a gruesome scar dashed the side of his head over his ear.

'Well met!' Fayyim bowed, then she gestured to Hawthorn. 'This is my second in command, Captain Hawthorn.' Hawthorn bowed, Fayyim continued. 'I hope we can be of service before we take the road north to Garroway.'

'Commander.' Demshir interjected. 'We all will be joining you on your journey. We and many and more will be standing witness to your award ceremony in the capital.'

Interesting. 'Field Marshal, please forgive my suspicions. Am I to assume that this increase in audience is not all that it seems?'

Demshir smiled. 'You certainly live up to your reputation, Fayyim Tallhart. You are quite intuitive.'

'I am a Psychic, after all.' Replied Fayyim, almost playfully.

'So it seems.' Demshir laughed, but countered. 'If you really want to know what is coming next, read my mind. What am I thinking?'

Demshir was playful, yet behind the smile was the same attitude Fayyim saw in others. He did not like to be one-upped by this woman; hence testing her ability as a psychic, despite the impossibility of ever reading his thoughts; completely breaking the element of role-play, though so very subtly. You will pose a challenge. Thought Fayyim. But I know the rhythm of it all, the pushes into Amaratsu, the defeats, the wins. The world is truly at war now, the armies are marshalling and that can only mean one thing. 'War council.'

Field Marshall Demshir nodded and smiled, but his eyes showed defeat in the form of annoyance. Fayyim was playing amongst the bigger kids, and the big kids were rough. Caution was required as allies could be the greatest enemy when you wish to reach the top of the climbing frame, to stand above the rest. Fayyim knew this, but still she felt no fear. Instead, she smiled in victory.