It had just dawned, and it was so cold, he could feel his breath
freezing on his lips.

Covenant was skulking on Fish street as usual, his travelling around the
land severely hampered as there were only 3 other sentinels around to
escort him.

Nervously he chewed his lip, he knew he had to do something about the
situation in the land, but dammit, why did it mean him risking his own
neck?

Suddenly, hope dawned, a trio of young sentinels wheeled into Shallam
overhead. Pacifists all of them, but each willing to serve their guild
and master.

Eagerly, he cast his eyes about the land. There must be a lone enemy
somewhere.

Then, he saw one, alone, and walking the land without so much as a care
in the world.

Gear up Sentinels, he said, were going to attack.

They all heard the briefing, track in, those who can, incinerate, those
who cant, maul, then track out. IF anything was to go wrong, then they
were to stand and die like their little lemming pets, while their
guildmaster tracked back to Shallam.

There was no point in fighting if there was any kind of risk mused
Covenant.

The group assembled for the strike, 7 of the most fearless sentinels,
headed by their almighty guildmaster.

Silently they winged their way over the mountains, over the forests, and
on to their target ahead of them.

They arrived in perfect formation, wheeling and diving down, taking
turns to incinerate, when they heard the cry 'Its a trap, its a trap,
Gaia help us, were doomed'

Oh my god thought Covenant, thats not one person, theres two of them
down there, what the hell am I going to do now?

Panic had already gripped him, his brain siezed to inaction - he had
counted on one opponent, but not two. The battle was falling apart
before it had begun, how could 7 of them possibly defeat two?

Whats the orders sir, said a young sentinel

Attack! shouted Covenant, and the Sentinels surged forward, their
dedication and willingness to throw away their lives startlingly
apparent.

Winging his way back to Shallam, throwing caution to the wind, and
flying back without his escort, the guildmaster made good speed.

Today was a good day, he had lead his troops to glorious combat, and
though it pained him, he had made sure he had survived to tell their
tale.

After all, he had kept his rank and could therefore say he was winning
the war.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Ero, in the year 281 AF.