The soldiers are weary but Raven's Reach is less than a dozen furlongs from the city gate. Checking your compass, you order the remains of your army to move at double pace. As you plunge back into the wall of trees, you hope your orientation is correct. Whether it is or not you have no choice but to keep going forward.

Pushing past branches and wet vines you carve through the Deepwood toward the fortress. The air is thick and filled with a pregnant silence. Then a screech pierces the gloom off to the North. The horde has caught up to you and is trying to cut you off. You spur on your squads to move even faster.