"Come on, let's move. Those two are back in the fight!"
Just as Ursa and Tarn were getting lost in their discussion of the Tribe's future, Gort's sharp reminder cut through.
Rolan and Steelblade were already getting distant. The three veterans spurred their mounts, chasing after them.
At the center of the battlefield, Lorelia and Delilah sat enthroned on the back of the massive abyssal dragon, Xalathar. Beside them, Saelen rode on a hulking spider sentry.
Saelen was not of the stoneheart horde, and Xalathar would never allow an outsider to ride on its back as it did its mistresses. The arrangement, while practical, created a scene that felt subtly exclusionary.
"Hehe, aren't I amazing, Sister Delilah?" Lorelia chirped, perched on the dragon's head. She was humming a tuneless little song, periodically turning to show off to Delilah, who sat further back.
