(Ashdeer pov)
Ashdeer felt the strain of the chains on him as he marched with Ashmeer's army. The leash was around his neck. His broken rib ached from the constant weight of the heavy chains that bound his hands and torso. It was late evening now and the armies had begun to set up camp. They had cut a swathe across the mountainous routes across the undulating hills, attacking villages and tiny hutments and killing whatever came in their way. While many of the tribes had put up a valiant defense, the sheer strength of their army was not to be matched.
Yet, the numbers were down.
A single tribesman and clansman across the Kush Hill villages could kill three beasts. The tiniest of animals had rallied in the fight once the element of surprise had been over. Irismus was putting up it's defenses now. The years of training had kicked in, once word spread and every creature large and small had joined in the fight back.
Yet, it had been a rout.
