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She tore against the wind now, sable breast gleaming indigo in the moon’s glow, wings pumping. Something hampered her right leg, causing drag, forcing her to continually correct her course. After the long journey, she felt herself tiring, so she pulled her wings in and dove toward the tree-studded, stoney hillsides below, trading altitude for speed, until she was only a few feet above the tree-tops. She extended her wings again, pumped them twice, and soared overhead, eyes searching for her next destination. Instinct and spellcraft told her she was close.

There - on horseback, and riding fast. But not fast enough. She dipped her left wing, and rapidly closed the distance between them.

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Khazar was driving his horse hard across the Poitanian ground, eager to make the keep before the Evening Meal, when a large black object swept across his field of view, brushing his cheek as it passed. Startled, he reined in hard, nearly vaulting over his charger’s neck. With practiced skill, he wheeled the mount around, scanning the skies for his attacker, while one hand slipped a polished ebony staff from a sling on his saddle.

He raised the staff protectively, felt power surging from the small of his back in response, then suddenly burst out laughing.

“Well aren’t you bloody somethin’, eh? This un’s gonna cost Raine an’ extra round.” He brought the staff down to his side slowly, eyeing the large black raven perched upon it. It waited patiently as he unfastened the scroll rolled tightly around the bird’s right leg. He quickly scanned it, noting the summons, which he had been expecting, as well as the personal marks already added by several of his clansmen.

He looked up at the bird, still perched on his staff, next to his hand. “Well, I haven’t got a bloody pen or inkwell on my horse now, do I? An’ I don’ spose you’ve got one either? ‘Ow does she expect me to leave a mark?”

In answer, the raven drove its beak sharply into the back of his fist, drawing blood, then leaped off of the staff as Khazar recoiled in pain and surprise.

“Ow, blast it! What did you go and do that fo?! “ He sucked at the wound, angrily eyeing the bird as it landed on the ground a few paces away. It cocked its head, looking sideways, then cawed once at him.

“Alright, alright, I get the idea. Bloody fool of a…” he trailed off muttering, then deftly slipped a dagger from a sheath in his boot, dipped it in the blood pooling on his hand, and traced his mark at the bottom of the list. The raven, apparently satisfied that Khazar would not retaliate, lifted off and landed on the staff again. A moment later, she was aloft, the scroll rolled tightly around her leg, her wings beating to drag her into the night sky.

From city wall to remote campsite, from oasis to temple steps to writhing bedrolls, she found them. One by one, they read the summons and left their mark. One by one they sent her skyward once more.

And one by one, they came.

For glory. For clan. For Order.