Shiraza

Dragyo Shiraza Venshen knelt before the suam emperor and received her orders. Lead the main Dragonsguard deployment to the Wild Northeast. Reinforce Dragonlord Eric Mancer's vanguard. Stop Jicarilla the Rime from uncovering the secret of Praetoria.

"Do not fail, Dragyo Venshen. The empire cannot afford another miscalculation."

Shiraza rose, bowed deeply, and left the throne room.

The mobilization took three days. Shiraza oversaw every detail. Troop rosters, supply trains, tactical drills. She requested specific specialists for her command. Masaru Takeda to handle high-value targets, senior dragutsu to coordinate with Mancer's vanguard, scouts who knew the terrain.

On the morning of departure, she stood before thousands of assembled Dragonsguard in Oasis's grand plaza.

"The vanguard holds the line against Jicarilla the Rime. The orcs of Duratuk fight beside them. But the enemy is powerful." She paused, orange eyes sweeping across her soldiers. "Yet we are Dragonsguard. We serve the emperor. We protect the empire. Duty and honor demand no less."

Their responding roar echoed throughout the city.

Shiraza led them south, riding at the head of a column that stretched for miles. Then they saw the storms. Dark clouds rolling endlessly, lightning that never stopped, rain in solid sheets.

She surveyed her forces. Undertrained, underequipped, thrown together in haste because the empire waited too long. But they were Dragonsguard. And she was dragyo.

"Forward," she commanded.

Shiraza rode into the storm. Two centuries of warfare had taught her to be careful, methodical, and utterly ruthless when required.

Today required all three.