[Arathel Siliva] 

Arathel rode towards the Armanian captial on her white horse, Argentina. Her forces of white paladins had made camp a few miles from the capital where they are stocking up on supplies and taking their last moments before the front-line battle. However Arathel took twenty mounted soldiers along with her for safe measures. You never know where Orks or any other enemies of Armania could be holding out. Two soldiers held flags for their arrival, a white flag with a black roaring lion face upon it. The flags flapped and crinkled in the wind as well as Arathel's material within her armour. As the group came to the gates, they slowed their horses to a halt. Arathel hasn't been to the capital in what would seem years, the last time she came to the capital it was when her father's helmet came to her. She was allowed to wait there for her father's return as that was the assembly point for after the war encase broken Razgar units came to the capital for another stand-off. All those wounded and near-dead soldiers, such pain, such manly screams and at such a young age. She will not let that happen to her people again. "I am Arathel, commander of the White Paladins. I request an audience with king Arman IV." "Open the gates!" The soldier commanded up to the top of the walls. As the gates opened, Arathel and her troop rode gently in. A message was sent to king Arman IV of Arathel arrival at the city.