The meadows of the Valley of Tarkii were but a distant memory to Prince Green, Tracy and their squadron of soldiers. Behind them stretched the floral paradise and ahead of them loomed the base of Mount Tarkoon. The tip of Mount Tarkoon was lost in the darkness that had descended upon the land like a ravenous vulture on so much carrion.
Prince Green looked at Tracy, the nymph-elf and smiled. "Tarkoon, at last," he said, relishing the glory of getting to the mountain.
Tracy stopped and looked around. The moon was sitting in the sky like a plump, glowing, albino baby. "Darkness has fallen," Tracy started. Her eyes caught something in the distance. "Lights," she said.
Prince Green found the lights with his eyes. His eyes squinted and his nose made a motion like he'd just smelled the bowels of a mighty dragon. Instinctively he unsheathed his sword. "Men!" He announced. "Our adversaries stir!"
"Who?" Asked a bewildered lieutenant.
"Brown and his men," Prince Green explained.
"They're mercenaries?" Asked a soldier.
"No," Prince Green sighed. "Adversaries. That's just a ten crown word that means foes."
The soldier stood there, absent-mindedly scratching a boil on his neck.
"Archers! Prepare the Angry Fire Death Rain Attack!"
A row of archers stepped forward, dutifully loading their bows. They then wrapped their arrowheads in oil-dampened rags. A squire quickly dashed across the line, lighting each man's arrow individually.
"Archers!" Prince Green barked. "On my mark you will unleash a firey hell on Brown and his men!"
"What do you mean, sir?" Asked a confused archer.
"The arrows!" Prince Green explained. "You will shoot the arrows!"
Fifty burning arrows cast a streak of lights across the night sky.
"No, not now! I was merely --" Prince Green slapped his forehead and watched as the arrows rained down on Brown's men. "Argh. I guess that's fine," he complained.