The fleeing soldiers would hear ringing trumpets as an army crested the hills ahead of them, moving quickly, lead by a figure on a large white charger.  Around her, riding on what appeared to be overly large wolves, were another eight figures that easily kept stride with her own horse.  The army moved quickly, spreading out to either side and moving around the refugees, even as the nine figures continued on a straight line, slowing as they drew closer to the survivors.<br/><br/>The nine riders slowed to a halt, and the central rider, a female, dismounted, moving among the refugees with a soft word here, a calming statement there, and at each person asking if any of the military had made it out.  The army closed to form a solid line some fifty yards behind them, facing the city with weapons readied.<br/><br/>Alexandra sighed, focusing her energy as she spoke.  "I am truly sorry, all of you, for my delay.  But we had to come a long way to reach here.  Tell me, did any of the leaders of Outlook make it out?  And is the city taken entirely, or is there some hope that it can be retaken?  We are camped a day to the north, those of you who have fought and wish it are welcome to continue there if the city can be retaken.  Those that wish to fight on will of course be welcome, but I would like to thank each of you for your valiant efforts," she said, and then paused as one of the riders on the wolves came over and whispered something in her ear.<br/><br/>She nodded.  "I am Alexandra.  Some call me Queen Alexandra, but it is not a title I wish.  I wish only to see the land thrive, that those who lived a simple life, as I once did, can continue to do so."  She paused, glancing toward the sacked city, and shook her head.  "Men!  We return to the camp.  Soldiers, guard the retreat.  Wild Runners, with me to the van.  Civilians to the fore and start moving, but don't rush yourselves.  We move at your pace," she said, pausing in her return to the horse to speak with a few more of the survivors.