We met them at the pass in Thunderhead Peaks: five thousand of our finest soldiers blocking the only way forward for the Stone Summit forces. We were outnumbered, yes, but the narrow pass would force them to fight on our terms, and our archers controlled the cliff faces. It was our best opportunity to stop their advance. Had it been only the traitors, we'd have surely prevailed; their first wave crashed weakly into our shields and were cut down by our support from above. Then the mursaat appeared. I've seen many things in my day, but the horrors they inflicted on our forces will haunt me to my dying breath. Within minutes of their assault our lines broke, soldiers trampling each other as they fled. The mursaat killed most of us as we fled. But after what I saw that day, I think they might have been the lucky ones.