𐑧𐑤𐑝𐑦𐑖 𐑬𐑑𐑮𐑲𐑛𐑻

There once was an elf by the name of Beirand, who set out on a journey to a distant land.
Thirteen days he rode, no rest did he take, ‘til a nymph’s abode he entered, ‘side a lake.
“Look there, Narya!” Came a cry of glee, “Do thee spy that yonder apple tree?”
The response, a neigh, she jumped with delight, then off she skipped in a canter spright.
Not a moment passed ‘ere a gusting blast, blew all around, an airy voice cast:
“Hold there, thee elf, this grove is mine — no fruit shall I yield you, nor your equine.”
Next came the reply, “Please grant us respite. Long have we travel’d; surely see thee our plight!”
“Fatigue, I perceive, that is your case, but to earn my grace, let’s have a race.”
To this, the rider did consent, and toward the tree, then off they went.
A howl, a rush, a flying gale, the wind left the rider back on its tail.
But in a flashing streak, a gallop sleek, horse and rider past the wind did barely squeak.
In augmented time, back and forth they sped, ‘til at last, fleet elf arrived ahead.
“Well done,” spake the spirit, as she blew in, “my grace I shall grant thee and all of your kin.”
Beirand and Narya thus took their leave, bearing evermore, the nymph’s reprieve.

The truth of this tale, one can only surmise, but doubtless, Outriders the fastest do comprise.

Information

Attacks (damage × count)

	𐑕𐑹𐑛	𐑚𐑤𐑱𐑛	7 × 4	𐑥𐑱𐑤𐑱
	𐑚𐑴	𐑐𐑽𐑕	8 × 3	𐑮𐑱𐑯𐑡𐑛

𐑮𐑦𐑟𐑦𐑕𐑑𐑩𐑯𐑕𐑩𐑟

	𐑚𐑤𐑱𐑛	0%			𐑐𐑽𐑕	-20%
	𐑦𐑥𐑐𐑨𐑒𐑑	0%			𐑓𐑲𐑼	0%
	𐑒𐑴𐑤𐑛	0%			𐑸𐑒𐑱𐑯	-10%