In a seemingly boundless Aurora that had maintained a state of stability more profound than any other settlement in Opungale, even when the threat of the gong and the man-napping had been at large, Queen Embrell had on an ashen face as she was given astounding news by a panting scout.
"What?" she said with her eyes bulging.
The scout, looking worse for wear, and with his face as though it had met that of a ghost, seemed to throw measured decorum out the window and answer with blatant terror.
"They... they were killed. All of them. They didn't even fight back..." he damn near shrieked.
Darwel who stood by her mother's side paled.
This scout didn't mean the 15,000 who had been stationed by the shore to receive the enemy.
No.
