As the massive host of Iran marched forth, the thundering hooves of chargers and the heavy tread of war elephants churned the earth, casting a dense veil of indigo dust that veiled the sun. Word reached young Prince Farud, son of the slain Siyavash, in his stronghold atop Mount Sepid. Inexperienced in the ways of grand warfare, the young prince felt his soul darken with apprehension. Swiftly, he commanded that all wandering herds of horses, camels, and flocks of sheep be swept from the open plains and valleys, driven into the high mountain fastnesses of Sepid-Kuh, and securely penned away from the incoming host.
With the animals secured, Farud sought his mother, Jarireh—a high-spirited lioness of a woman whose heart still burned with unfading grief over Siyavash's tragic murder. Farud informed her that an Iranian army led by the proud commander Tus had arrived with war elephants and drums, asking how he ought to react. Jarireh fortifying his spirit, counselled: 'May you never know defeat, my valiant son! Know that the new King of Iran is your own half-brother, Kay Khosrow, born of the same royal blood and sire. If he marches to avenge your father, you are even more bound by honor and destiny to lead that sacred blood-feud. Even the leopards of the mountains, the leviathans of the deep, and the birds of the air curse Afrasiab, for never lived a champion to match Siyavash in lineage, wisdom, chivalry, and justice.'
Jarireh bade her son don his Roman coat-of-mail and go forth not as an enemy, but as a fellow blood-avenger to greet his brother's host. When Farud expressed hesitation over not knowing the Iranian chieftains, Jarireh assigned the wise veteran Tokhar to his side. Tokhar knew every noble, knight, and banner of Iran. She urged Farud to seek out Bahram and Zangeh-ye Shavaran in particular, for those two noble paladins were the inseparable companions and lieutenants of Siyavash during his exile.
Suddenly, a scout rushed down from the high watchtower, reporting that from the fortress gates to the distant desert of Gang, the valleys and peaks were suffocated by war elephants, armored warriors, and banners, as though the sun had been imprisoned in dark obsidian. Hearing this, Farud secured the fortress gates, mounted his fleet-footed steed, and rode alongside Tokhar to a lofty crag overlooking the grand Iranian host, preparing to identify the great lords of the realm.