Faervel winced as her opal hair was pulled back tightly, her handmaiden braiding her hair. Breathing through her teeth, she asked, "Tegilbor, must you pull it so tightly? Surely this isn't necessary." The girl behind her replied with, "It is, my lady. After Lord Rochirion captures the elven city, you will be the lady of the city. Are you not excited?" "Of course I am. But Rochirion will not be capturing the city; his general Linnor will be. I just do not think it is fair." With that, she heaved a heavy sigh much unlike the usual dainty Lady Faervel. She had a right to, anyways. She had no love for her husband, and did not like the idea of him gaining a seat of power when Linnor and his army were doing all the work. Her marriage had been a strictly political one, and Rochirion reminded Faervel nearly every day, with the mistresses he would have at their home. But Faervel would never admit defeat; wraiths were a proud race, more so than the dragonkin, and she couldn't stand the thought of the disgrace it would bring to her family if she gave up. Feeling her lady losing some control of her shadows, Teglibor gave a sharp tug on Faervel's hair. She got the message and soon the pulsing shadows in the corners of the carriage receded, as did those around her eyes. It wasn't long before they arrived at the small makeshift camp that the soldiers were staying at. It was bustling now, the soldiers rushing about as they prepared for battle. Soon, she was led to her husband's tent, being told stay there until the city had been won for the wraiths. ----- Linnor put his armor on, tightening strings and straps where needed. He had lost some weight, he noticed, as he made sure that is armor was still in good condition. Brushing back strands of his hair, which was black with fiery colors mixed in here and there, like a dying fire, he polished his sword unti it shown like silver, listening to the sounds of his men outside of his tent. Eventually, he was told that the time to ride for the city was nigh. Sheathing his sword, he left his tent to mount his grey stallion. Riding to the eastern edge of camp where his men waited, he was soon leading them towards the city. No matter what, he was certain that the wraiths would take the city.