In the days when the Golden Son of the Western Plains had been slain by the warriors from the shores of the Great Salted Lake, the peoples from the Promised Lands stirred nervously as they awaited word from the Great City about the Exalted Army of the Sabanic Empire, and whether or not their glory there had been regained.   And before the Army marched back home to the west, men of wisdom and soothsayers came through the Promised Lands, and they told the people, “In truth we tell you, we stayed long near the Great City, and we saw the Great Saban, and The Mountain and The Bull, and the Great, who in his own land was called Quintorris the Mighty, and so too a warrior was there that led them, and his hair burned with the redness of the setting sun, and verily they conquered their foe.”  And the peoples’ minds were eased, and with great joy they prepared for the return of the Army.  And when the Army returned, there was much rejoicing, and the peoples drank deeply of the mead and the ale and the rye and the lager and the wine and the bourbon and all the other libations that refreshed the soul and confused the mind.  And on the next day they woke, and they again drank deeply of the mead and the ale and the rye and the lager and the wine and the bourbon, and nary a field was plowed for three risings of the sun and three settings of the moon.  But even as the people rejoiced, the Dark Lord’s mind turned toward the next battle that lay before him.

For it is said that as he drilled his men on one day of beauty a vagabond  appeared, his robes tattered and his face dirtied with long travel, and the guards said, “Old man, if you do believe that The Great and Merciless Saban is the ruler of all these lands, put down your pack and rest your weary legs, for this is verily the Kingdom of Saban, and none of his followers shall go without.”  And the old man said, “My sons, the charity of the Great Saban for those who follow him is truly as they say, but I come for no charity.  Give me bread, for I hunger, and water, for I thirst, but after this take me to Saban, and I shall pay for my wage.”  And the guards did not question him, for though his faculties were meager they sensed within him great truth.  And they brought him bread and water, and when he was refreshed they brought him before The Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord said to him, “Tell me what you have come to tell me, aight, and you shall have truly earned your keep, for I sense that you hold tidings relative to my next conquest.”  And the vagabond said, “Great Saban, your wisdom surpasses the rumors and the legends, and I know I tell you little that you have not already seen.  But I hold tidings from the south, where an army rises to challenge you.  In the southernmost lands, there is a great force, whom they say fights like a hurricane rolls over the beaches, but they dare not challenge you.  But one of their number, one who was defeated by this Army long before your coming, has left their care and raised his own battalion, and he knows that his repute is poor, and he believes that if he can march here and defeat you that glory shall be his forever.”

The Dark Lord rose, and he said, “Guards, take this man to my wardrobe, and put over his shoulders the cloak of his choosing, and also a tunic with crimson ropes, and also food and wine to his fill, as he has truly earned his wage.”  And the vagabond bowed once more, and the Great Saban left to address his Army.

“My mighty warriors,” he spake, his eyes burning and his nostrils flaring, “An army from the southernmost lands approaches.  A new army it is, and it has been raised for but one purpose; they come to put a halt to The Process so that their own glory be greater.  But truly I tell you, I have had a vision, and in my eyes I saw a panther of the fields, his fur as gold as the summer wheat.  And as he stalked his prey, a great rumbling was heard, and he paused.  And as he stood still, before he could move again, the mighty foot of an elephant crushed him as he stood.  Here marches this new army, all clothed in the gold of the panther and the blue of the ocean, but we shall meet them, and we shall crush them underfoot, and they shall cry out relative to their inconsolable paid.  But take not their threat with a light heart, lest it be our pride and our honor that is crushed.”

And the men took heed of his words as they prepared for the battle, for they knew that sword would meet shield again before a fortnight fell.