As happened many times in the past the Fell Ice once again charged down from the north and attacked the world in its effort to turn it into a frozen ball of ice. Only the White Magic and it's ally the Sun could stand against such a vast enemy.
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The Dark Lord rode out from the shadows astride a powerful black stallion. Close behind him on their own strong mounts came three of his four Dread Lords who were followed by one of his Dark Stars and twelve incredibly huge barbarian slave warriors. The Dark Lord led them up a narrow path to the top of a rocky outcropping jutting from the mountain wall. As far as he could see it was the highest point around and gave him the best view of the High King's stronghold and the spacious field laying to the front of it. He wished to watch as the final parts of his plan to destroy the Elven Vale played out.
It was the darkest part of the night with sunrise only a few short hours away when the Dark Lord rode up onto the top of the rocks. The darkness was growing even deeper as the winter storm picked up in intensity once again and dense black storm clouds moved in. The wind blowing through the Vale ignited a firestorm in the forests and villages on the hills around the stronghold. The fires were too far away to provide any light and it could not penetrate the darkness of the thick flurries of smoke, ash and snow blowing about the hills. Heavy gusts of wind also blew the thick flurries through the Elves standing below cutting down their vision to just a few paces. The only usable light on this side of the Vale came from the Elven stronghold which seemed to have every lamp and torch burning along its fortifications and battlements.
The Dark Lord awaited the last of his Dread Lords who was pushing his black steed hard across the floor of the Vale. He was returning from a failed mission to take the large tunnel the Elves constructed in the side of the valley wall. He thought the Elves extremely foolish as he spied on their efforts over the turns to try and harness the power of the great white wyrms of the north. The Dark Lord planned for a different use of the tunnel to the Top of the World. He wished to channel swirls from the Kingdom of the Fell Ice through it and into the southern lands. With this awesome power at his side there would be no enemies able to stand against him.
To his great anger the black sorcerers in charge of the attack on the Elven Mages and soldiers protecting the tunnel made their move too soon. They were not powerful enough to strike down those with the Good Magick. Only his Dread Lord stood a chance against the defenders of the tunnel and he arrived too late. The Elves were able to implement their powerful wards of Good Magick protecting the breach. They pulled down the support timbers running throughout it's entire length, collapsing it totally, before they were overwhelmed. By the time his Dread Lord arrived the opening was sealed and no longer a link to the Fell Ice.
The attack on the western end of the Vale was saved for last. With the destruction of the dome and the House of Mage Lore the Dark Lord could feel the strength of the Good Magick in the Vale reduced dramatically. The palace of the High King was the last bastion left for the Elven magick to reside in. The palace was the stronghold the Elves named 'Morfgroth Dorthore'. It was a mighty, gleaming fortress with thick walls of stone and powerful wards of the Good Magick protecting it. It lay nestled against the mountain walls of the Vale with a great field of grass before it. The Dark Lord sat upon his black steed and watched as the black horde of his army chased the last of the refugees from throughout the Vale into the safety of the stronghold.
