Alrin's heart gave a lurch as the Prince looked over his shoulder to grin, then drew his sword and threw himself into the battle with a challenging bellow. It had not quite been six months since that daythat night in the mazebut his little prince had become a truly breathtaking sight.
The griffons landed behind him and his men; Alrin roared in gratitude and relief as Paladins and three more Princes rushed into battle, far more suited to it than Dragoons. A battle that had only moments before seemed a lost cause became an almost laughingly-easy fight. The Princes cut down the dead-walkers and the wraiths as though they were little more than foot soldiers too new to their swords to be of use, laughing and calling to each other between violent bursts, filling the air with their demon-like glee.
Alrin set his flames upon another group of dead-walkers, leaving behind only ashes, then made to press on.