Warborn BladesThe Sundered Ford
Open
A broken crossing, at dusk
Grogens against the Daminari Legion at a river that used to have a bridge over it. Cross the water, break the wall, spring what was buried.
Take the fieldThe Warborn March
The Roll of Fields
Four grounds, fought in real time and free. Hold one and the next opens. Standing only — no Mark, no mercy and no price passes on any of them.
The Daminari Counterstroke
Barred
Their own camp, the same night
They did not wait for morning, so neither do we. Into the bowl where the Legion sleeps, before the horns can wake the whole of it.
Hold the field before it to open this ground
The Thaw
Barred
The high pass, in snow
Above the treeline, where the Legion's remnant runs for the pass and the cold does half the fighting for whoever knows it better.
Hold the field before it to open this ground
The Gate
Barred
Our own earthwork, all day
No crossing, no camp, no pass. A bank of turned earth with one way through it, and three waves who mean to come through it.
Hold the field before it to open this ground