Triennell the Merciful
This too shall pass.
The walls were indeed manned. As they made their approach, someone disappeared from view and a few more torches were lit along the wall. Moments later, a handful of men with bows spread themselves out on the wall walkway. One of them called out in challenge.
"Halt! This is a dark night. Who be you to us?"
"I am Orthael of the All-Consumer, servant of the Flame! We seek shelter and carry a warning, that the Dead walk once more. Stand ready against them, for Varenniel's work awaits us."
Fatigue pressed on Orthael's shoulders. It was a vocal effort now to summon magic, to send the sign of the Surled Flame up above them to hang in bright overhead illumination. The bowmen conferred with each other, and one of them left to open the gate.
"Reliath! I feared the worst when... by the Flame, what's happened to you?"
The man who greeted them inside the walls had dressed quickly, but wore his slightly threadbare robes with dignity.
"Well met, Merall. My companion and I have met the enemy: the night is dark indeed."
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Malika hesitated just a moment, then nodded. Dawn was beginning to break over the mountains on the h…
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Jim Stitzel
I like how you picked up and continued the local colloquial syntax of the challenge call. It lends continuity from the way Malika speaks.