As the Knights stationed in the Forgotten Fortress, of all ranks, gathered in the main court of the Keep, conversation immediately turned to why they could have possibly been called at this time. However, once the Council entered the room, all were silent. Once everyone was seated, High Lord Elric rose and addressed the assembly.

"Hail Knights of the Forgotten Order," he began, "You must be confused as to why I have called you. I just received word that Moriquendi have invaded Grans Island: you would have heard of this race as children, in fairy tales of the 'dark elves'. Whatever you heard is not even half of their strength, and without our help, all on Grans shall fall; surely they would then turn their attentions west, and we would find our own lands under attack. As this is not for the security of Azuron I could not command any of you to defend Grans - I would not even if I could - so I have brought you here to request assistance. Who will help me defend my home?"

Several of the Knights began to step forward, amongst them Elric recognised Erufailon Niracas, a half-dryad who arrived in Azuron not so long ago, the squire of Lord Tsunami. Suddenly, he realised others had moved: looking to his right, he saw Councilor Nicodemus, a Paladin and veteran of many campaigns, who simply gave a nod to Elric; to his left stood Councilor Aular - a hero who had defended Azuron longer than most humans could remember - who rested his hands upon the pommel of his sword and looked out over the assembled Knights. With a smile betraying his happiness, Elric thanked everyone for attending, then asked the volunteers to prepare to move out by sunset, and meet him at the docks.

Three days later, Elric stepped off the boat onto the docks at Qis - the primary port of Grans Island - followed closely behind by a dozen well-equipped Knights, and the elf Sarenenutet. After exchanging pleasantries with Lord Pepi, who was as eager as always to earn the favour of the Elves of Grans, they quickly headed out of the city, and set of northward, towards the Forests of Nefer and Iment. A cold wind blew over the small city; a whisper upon it rumoured death. Knowing that he would have been expected, the elf slung his bow over his shoulder and lead a march through the streets; rangers would be awaiting outside the city.

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