But the silence reigns no longer.

Suddenly, a large wave of Dalnor troops floods yours from the side, taking your impatient soldiers by surprise. Though it was a short-lived advantage, it soon becomes clear that you have made a fatal error. The opposing forces overcome almost half of your troops. Just as you begin to realize your mistake and call a retreat, the bloody battle becomes bloodier, your troops disperse and flee, and you, amongst the brave few who stand against the impossible odds, are picked off one by one.

You stand with your bent greatsword in hand, blood seeping from near-fatal wounds, and almost embrace death from one cold-eyed, bloodthirsty soldier.

He gives it to you gladly, and your last sight is filled with your once-blue Banner, now tattered and worn, and a towering podium of pure dragonbone at the heart of the Dalnor Army.

A voice whispers, "Try again, brave soul" before you lose sight of your regretful perishing and all fades to black...