Night turned to day turned to night, and the desert and the chase did not seem to end. What little cavalry was left was led by Hawthorn to regroup at the border of The Sands and Shoulderside in Hurdland. Those on foot, the Red Front, Bronze John's unmounted Knights and a number of Hurdland regular army grunts, where led by Fayyim with the help of the loaned Long Strides, a group of Jumpers who were used as scouts and messengers. Fayyim did not let them live down their earlier confusion during their initial scouting expedition against the enemy. Overall there were exactly two hundred and two people left alive in retreat after the battle, down from over three thousand.

However far and however fast Fayyim led her troops in retreat, the enemy was behind them on the horizon, always following, always threatening. She cursed them constantly, her defeat a wound she had never acquired even once before on the battlefield. It was only when sand and stone began to turn to green that Fayyim felt any relief. Grass meant Hurdland, it meant Shoulderside, and it meant safety at Shoulderside Castle, Hurdland's first point of defence against Amaratese incursions.

All was still not well at this point, the enemy was on their heals and Fayyim would lead them directly to the gates of the castle at this rate. Something had to be done. 'You, Jumper.' Fayyim called to a young looking woman of the Long Strides. She was a tall strip of a girl with brown hair in a braid. It reminded Fayyim of an old friend. 'Take two of your comrades and go ahead.'

'Commander?' The woman questioned.

'We need to do something about our pursuers. Find me some hope out there in the wilderness, a battlefield that will work to our advantage. When you think you have something, send your people to find our Cavalry at the border, have them rendezvous with us at the location. I want you personally back to me in no time at all with whatever information you have. We will be steadily travelling on this same path, it will not be hard to find us. Clear?'

'Clear, Commander Tallhart.' The woman was quick to gather two other Long Strides, then she was away into the distance. Towering leaps into the air taking them away and away with a speed even horses would struggle to maintain.

'Hurdland!' Fayyim shouted to the men, women and NPC soldiers about her, walking in straight columns. 'We will march for home, but first, we march to glory! Our revenge comes soon!' The Red Front roared in unison at the sentiment. The other troops managed a groan. Fayyim stopped still.

'Halt the march!' Shank's voice bellowed out automatically from behind her.

Fayyim turned around to meet the gaze of every warrior under her care. 'The enemy is on us.' She spoke loud and clear. 'They will follow us until we are dead. But we can use that to our advantage, because we can lead them into their own deaths.' She drew her rapier and gestured with it as she spoke. 'I guarantee it! So when I say to you, the great Hurdland army, that we march for glory, what do I expect to hear?'

What little of The Red Front remained after the battle roared as they had before, yet the other soldiers did not. So Fayyim shouted deep and loud. 'What do I expect to hear?' This time a weak shout joined that of her men. It was not enough for her. 'Turn around and look. The enemy follows us with no will to relinquish the chase. And while we stand here, not moving, they gain on us.' Fayyim slashed with her sword. 'And we will not move until you low-lives grow yourselves some backbones! And I will take the head of any who shows me one more ounce of cowardice and weakness! Do not doubt me!

'Now we will march to our chosen field of battle, to our advantage, and we will destroy those who dare creep after us into our home country.' Fayyim barked at them all. 'Eyes on me!' She pointed to her army. 'We march for glory. So what do you say?'

The Red Front roared, the others shouted out along side them. Shanks bellowed again. 'Are we Amaratsu dancers? Churashi fisherman? No! We are Hurdland's warriors! What do Hurdland warriors say?!'

The statement worked to bring the troops to life. Everyone roared. Fayyim smiled and silently thanked Shanks. 'Then march!' Fayyim commanded.

Sand turned to soil and grass, grassland rolled into hill, and the enemy continued to keep pace behind the mass of Hurdland soldiers. The sun arched over the sky and came to only an hour before sundown, morale was low and a number of troops lagged behind, some logged off. Shanks was heard trying to rouse them back into their columns, but to little avail.

The Jumper returned when trees could be seen on the horizon, her face was flushed and her breath heavy. The long braid in her hair was frizzed and wiry.

'News?' Fayyim barked as the other woman fell in line next to her.

'We searched for a battlefield to aid us, but there was nothing conventional.'

'Which makes me think that you have found something unconventional.'

The woman gave a weak smile. 'Hurdland's forests are dense and difficult to fight in with large numbers, even our retreating force would struggle. But a number of small squads of fighters can quickly navigate the woods and make hit and run attacks against the enemy, whittling their numbers down.'

Fayyim thought for a moment. 'I agree, but our men are far too taxed to face the challenge. They may only manage one good charge.'

The Jumper made to speak. 'Commander if-'

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Fayyim raised her hand to silence her. 'There are twelve of your Long Strides left to us, yes?'

'Yes.'

'Then we shall be thirteen.' Fayyim's lips curled into a grin. I'm not letting them get away with beating me. 'Our troops will continue ahead of us, we will stay behind and hide in the tree line, up on high. When the enemy pass below us, we strike from above and do as much damage as possible. When the enemy is thoroughly distracted, our army turns back on itself and charges these Amaratsu dogs down.'

Fayyim did not wait for any agreement, her commands were given and followed. When the army entered the forest, Hawthorn and the cavalry were waiting.

'Commander.' Hawthorn bowed from his horse. His armour was dirty, black with soot and powdered with sand. 'I'm glad you're OK.'

'No time to chat, Captain. We are making a counter attack.' Fayyim brushed her hair back and neatened her ponytail.

'Is that wise?' Hawthorn removed his helm.

'Of course it's wise!' Snapped Fayyim.

'Commander, forgive me.' Hawthorn trotted his horse closer to her. Lowering his voice he spoke. 'Is everything OK with you?'

It was odd to see the man's usual cool smile replaced by concern. 'Everything is fine!' She felt her face turn hot. Through anger? She was certainly emotional. 'We are going to earn our honour back, Ashara's victory will not go unpunished.' Fayyim turned to face the direction of the approaching enemy. 'Are you with me, Captain?'

'Always.'

Fayyim noticed no hesitation from him. 'Good. Listen carefully.' She explained the plan and sent Hawthorn ahead to lead the troops. Fayyim bid them look for a fiery signal, as she would use the enemy's power for her own pupose. She then looked to the Long Strides, reached out with her Accessor power and borrowed from their Jumper abilities.

The power to leap extraordinary heights filled Fayyim's body, and like fleas up to a dog Fayyim and the twelve Long Strides took to the tree branches of the forest canopy. Her accuracy was not great, finding herself having to clamber to her perch while the others found their footing quite easily.

The enemy would find it difficult to see them amongst the leaves and the dim light, plus the retreating Hurdland army would attract their gaze away from them too. The last ditch attempt to slow or stop the enemy would begin once the Amaratese passed beneath them, and would surely be an event for her people to speak about.

Five minutes passed, then ten. The Red Front Commander had no clear view of the enemy, but her brown haired companion did. Fayyim clicked at her for attention and mouthed. 'What can you see? Are they coming?'

The woman spied out through the leaves and squinted. 'They don't appear to be moving.' she whispered. 'One second...' She leant forward, focusing. 'They're about one hundred yards away, talking I think. Giving orders?'

Fayyim whispered. 'I can hear something too.' There were murmurs on the wind, mingled with rustling leaves.

'Something's happening. They're restructuring the front line. Maybe they... Oh no...' She raised her voice and flicked her braid away from her mouth. 'Clear out!'

The Long Strides leapt into the deeper forest, bounding from tree limb to tree limb. Fayyim was not so fast, but she attempted to follow, clumsily hopping from one perch to another. This was not something she was experienced at, so she dropped to the ground instead. With a weak landing, Fayyim took to running, just as the tree branches above her ignited in flame. She turned to look, catching glimpses of Flame Pitchers hurling balls of golden orange fire into the forest.

They're going to burn the forest behind us. Did they suspect our ambush? Fayyim continued to run as the wood around her was engulfed, bright fire quickly spreading due to the magical qualities of the flames. Then came the battle cry. Oh no... No no no! Her trap was sprung. The Hurdland warriors saw the fire, Fayyim's “signal”, and charged an enemy that was not there. They charged into a barrage of burning orbs, and their screams alerted the Amaratese to their presence and their mistake. Fire overtook them, retreat was made impossible by the burning trees and falling debris surrounding them, then the Amaratese men and women that had so tenaciously hunted them came charging with fists and feet of fire. The day was now truly lost.

White light took Fayyim, and then she was stood amongst the tall stone walls and courtyard of Shoulderside castle. Her armour and weapon were gone, only a simple under gown kept her modest, and her hair hung untied down her back. She had died and respawned at her last safe location, where she had saved a checkpoint.

The sky was dark, the night was quiet, all but for the sound of the rivers that passed on two sides of the castle, somewhere on the other side of the walls. Other men and women began to materialise around her, white glitter falling from the clouds and assembling into the forms of people. The dark sky became white, as hundreds of players, recently killed, respawned. Guards on the battlements, those stationed to protect the castle, gasped and spoke in hushed tones as wave after wave of Hurdland soldier's appeared. The courtyard was filled, so players began to appear on the battlements and inside the main tower of the complex too.

'That didn't go well at all.' Bronze John appeared from somewhere, Fayyim did not see.

She replied only with: 'I need to resupply. Quickly.'

'As do the rest of these men and women.' He shook his head in disappointment. 'We should head north and inform the High Commanders of our loss.'

'The enemy might be coming.' Fayyim was exhausted.

John, big and bearded, placed his hand on her shoulder. 'Shoulderside Castle can handle it, that's what it's here for. Lets head to Tumblestone together, OK?'

With a sigh she nodded, then hurriedly made plans to leave.