Chapter 1: Ants

At the edge of the forest

Somewhere on the edge of the Green Forest, where it meets the Endless Meadow, there is a clearing. And in that clearing three dwarves stand in the woods arguing.

"I'm telling you it had to have been made by one of those one of the fringe blacksmiths! I know their work." Says the first dwarf. His thick black beard momentarily flutters as expels a gust of air. His rugged appearance is enhanced by the aged look in his eyes.

His companion also had a thick black beard but it is tinged with streaks of gray. He wears a curious black armband. Obviously older that the other two until one looks in his shining eyes and behold the shining promise of youth. "It was not forged in Rockhome or anywhere inside this valley I tells ya! It was forged in Dernhelm!"

"Yea right! There is no place named Dernhelm."

The third dwarf cuts in and says, "Keegan, don't bother! His whole family is daft that way! They always have been and always will be. I think their family heirlooms must be cursed so they all act like fools."

The second dwarf turns and aims a heated glance at the third one.

"And why do you wear black all the time?" The first dwarf grumbles.

A man watches from behind a nearby tree. Attracted by the voices which disturbed his solitude, he watches in the shadows of clearing.

At least he did until he was spotted by the first dwarf who motions to the other two. "We got company!"

He draws his weapon and stares in the direction of the hidden one. "Come out where we can see you! Who are you and why are you spying on us?"

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Top

The Caravan

He walks alongside the wagons his long amber hair flowing in the breeze his keen silver eyes scanning the horizon. Why is he here? That is a question he has been avoiding answering. Ever since that last mistake of falling into the trap of the Orc wizard, he’s avoided contact with people altogether. But now he has rejoined his fellow elf. Sort of. He forcibly puts the stray thoughts in the back of his mind and concentrates on his surroundings, ‘Protecting these people. That’s what I’m here for. Clear boundaries. Nice and simple.’

Not five feet away in a carriage is a mage of no little skill. He pours over a scroll as if he cannot believe it contents.

Behind him on the wagon a rather rotund man smiles and says, "What’s that boy? I didn’t quite hear you? Sounded like you’re looking for trouble." He laughs, the merchant dressed in a black shirt, with a matching suede coat, whose shoulders puff out like turned over bowls and whose sleeves don’t quite reach his elbows. The coat is fairly ill fitting as the front is connected by multiple gold chains, which is also the only reason the thing stays on. He completes his outfit with a black suede hat is shaped like someone squashed a melon on his head and of all things black stocking. Apparently he couldn’t get pants made in his size. On each finger there is ring made of silver or gold and they all have gems on them. "Ah well that’s good! I hope we don’t find any, but it’s good to have a man like him guarding us!"

He elbows the driver who winces in pain. Unlike his employer the driver is dressed in only passable clothing his shirt and coat two different shades of green and his brown pants look like they will need to be patched soon. But the old driver doesn’t seem to mind that nearly as much as he does the ribbing the merchant seems to want to give him.

This display of lavishness is a sore temptation. One of the guards after having seen the riches that the merchant openly displays, excused himself to go check on the rear of the caravan. "I can do this. This is a test. Remember, if I don’t take anything. I can prove the old man wrong."

On the way back to the rear of the caravan he passes several of the merchants normal guards. But one in particular catches his eye. The guard while relatively small and thin has ghost white hair and eyes blacker than midnight, given him an almost ethereal appearance. But that is not what catches his eye. It is in fact the necklace the guard is wearing. The necklace has several good luck charms tied together with a leather thong. What is remarkable about the necklaces is that the charms are all solid gold!

The display makes him nervous enough that he pulls out his penny whistle and begins to play a tune as he passes by.

The guard with the white hair hears the sound and turns toward him and glares at him with a look of such intense hatred that he stops playing for a moment unsure as to what he did wrong.

Nothing can be said between them because at that moment there is a cry from the rear of the caravan. Another cry goes up from the front of the caravan as the ground literally explodes upward and out comes a giant ant. At three feet tall and six feet in length the ant is not alone. Within moments a dozen more have joined him as they attack the caravan from both sides.

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They were given order to march to Torana's Tower and add to the growing forces there in case the Orcs break through. They numbered twenty strong.

Their leader a tall well-muscled man with short black hair, he has a commanding presence, but the look in his eye shows he is haunted by something. He goes by the name of Voreas, but most of the men here just call him "Sergeant" or "Sir". The glaring exception to the rule of course is the battle priest forced on the troop.

From the Elemental temple of Fire, Pyros makes his thoughts known as usual, "I'm going to KILL THEM ALL! They are going to BURN BURN BURN BURN BUUUUURRRRN!!"

The first few times, it cheered the men up. Now it just makes everyone nervous that he might mean them. Pyros doesn't exactly give the impression of stability. He charges forward out of the group, he draws his twin scimitars and goes through a quick and impressive attack form, flames trailing in his swords wake.

For the hundredth time today Voreas realizes he's going to have to call him back or he'll get too far ahead of the group.

Just off to the side stand two elves. One wears a relatively plain dark purple outfit with breeches and a light shirt. Unlike most elves his skin seems to be sun-tanned to an almost dark brown, his silky black mane curls down past his shoulders and is held together by dark purple ribbon at the end. He his stance give the impression of a no nonsense kind of man, but his face and his word are anything but harsh, "That’s it now I know one of us has spent too much time baking in the sun." Ulqik says, "If my brother could see me now he'd laugh."

His companion is taller and more solid than most elves. He has a thick head of hair that shines a deep shade of gold and comes down to just below his shoulders. Capping this full head of hair is a dark blue brimmed hat complete with a stunning peacock feather. He wears a dark blue silken doublet of very high quality that is decorated with strange runes done in silver thread that run down the side, under the arms. His pants are solid black, but obviously they too cost quite a bit more then most would spend on clothes. Completing his attire is a black cloak of very fine material that has many of the same strange runes stitched along the edges in the same silver thread as the shirt. His looks seem to somehow combine nobility, roguish good looks, and Elfin grace in a manor that is extremely pleasing to behold. In his hands, is a highly ornate black wood staff carved with intricate ruins. Before Feldeman Boreal can say anything something else catches their attention.

"Sergeant!"

Voreas turns around to see one of his soldiers pointing. He looks in the direction the man is pointing and he spots one of his scouts he sent out earlier hightailing back to the group as if the horde itself was after him. His instincts kick in and he begins giving orders for his men to prepare for an attack. As he does he thinks, "Something is wrong, there aren't supposed to be any Orcs on this side of the barrier."

The scout cries out as the ground under him explodes and out comes an ant. At four feet in height and six feet in length, this giant ant quickly turns on the hapless scout who stumbles and is quickly caught up in its pinchers and crushed. Unfortunately the ant is not alone, a dozen more ants appear out of the original hole and they make a bee-line straight toward the rest of the soldiers.
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Zraxin is scouting the edge of the forest. Something is bothering him, but he doesn't know what. It is like an anticipation of something to come but he doesn't know what. There is a scream and a loud explosion to the south. Thinking that this might have something to do with the feeling he had before he heads toward the sounds.
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A young elf lass, dressed in half-plate armor stands in the meadow. Her hands rest on the hilt of her glowing two-handed sword, which is planted tip down in the dirt. If one could look close enough they would see her eyes are closed and beads of sweat are running down her brow. They would also see that she is talking to herself.

"No. No. No!" Mizar the ogre stares down at his elfin pupil and sighs. For the millionth time he mutters, "Perhaps this experiment was a mistake. No I must not give up. Okay Asura lets try something simpler." He looks over his shoulder for a moment then turns back.

Asura for her part is frustrated as well. She knows what he wants, but can't understand why it isn't working for her.

Mizar says, "Take your sword in both hands. And hold it so that its points to the sky.

Asura raises the glowing sword dutifully.

"Turn the blade so that the edges of the blade is toward your nose." As she does so he continues, "Now concentrate and stare with your eyes on either side of the blade.

After looking for a few moments the light seems to intensify and she blinks several times to clear her vision.

"Try again!"

She takes a deep breath and attempts it again, still not sure what she should see.

After three more attempts she keeps her eyes open as the light intensifies and her world seems to leap forward blurring itself. She wills herself not to blink and her body shakes with the effort. Finally the blurring stops and she sees a group of soldiers preparing for battle. One of the soldiers is running to join the others but he is cut off as the ground explodes in front of him and a giant ant appears in front of the scout and almost on top of Asura.

Asura blinks in surprise her concentration broken she instinctively prepares for an attack only to find herself facing Mizar and he is not amused. She looks around confused for a moment.

"Finally something she *can* master." He says in exasperation. "What you saw is what is happening in that direction." As he points, the classroom setting that Mizar prefers to teach in vanishes and she sees through her own eyes again. Mizar points in the direction she is looking at and in the distance there seems to be something just on the horizon. But she can't tell what.

"With some practice you will be able to master the far vision. You will be able to see almost anything that is illuminated by a light source in one direction. But the light source must not be completely enclosed. You cannot see into a room with the doors closed, but if the window is open then you can see if there is light."

***************

They were given order to march to Torana's Tower and add to the growing forces there in case the Orcs break through. They numbered twenty strong.

Their leader a great hulk of a man, with flaming red hair peeking beneath his helm and bright green eyes scanning the horizon. His sits upon his majestic war horse looking for the scout he sent out earlier.

His horse stamps impatiently as they wait. His name is Stamm Hammerfist. Many thoughts move through the mind of this young man. Not the least of which is the safety of these new recruits he's been given. They seem more accident prone than most and his scout is now overdue.

"Captain!"

Hammerfist turns and sees one of his soldiers pointing. He looks in the direction the soldier is pointing and spots the scout he has been looking for coming from the wrong direction. His momentary irritation with the fact that the scout must have gotten lost again vanishes as he notices something in the mans attitude. Specifically that he seems to be running as if the entire Orc horde was after him. His instincts kick in and he commands the troops to prepare for an attack. He turns his horse, Forge, toward the scout waits for his arrival when the ground between the scout and the troops explodes and out climbs a pair of giant ants. One turns on the luckless scout and crushes him in its pincers. The other looks at the group for a moment, it’s antennae waving in the breeze. Then it charges the group. It is followed by six others.
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They have not been having a good day. It started when Tristan and Pheras were sparring. Xedel decided to have a little fun and started sending these little fiery globes in their direction. Familiar with the sign of the fireball, both men hit the dirt. Pheras ended in some animal dung and Tristan bruised his arm. The globes were completely harmless burning grass but they didn't figure that out until too late. Xedel laughed mightily until Pheras decided to toss some at him. Xedel was quick to hit it with a globe of fire and the resulting burning mess only intrigued the wily old charlatan.

Tristan groans inwardly as he has seen the look that crosses Xedels face too many times before. The charlatan has gotten an idea, which could be more trouble for everyone else or something else to use against the enemies. Tristan feverently hopes its use is against the enemies.

Sindel, Xedels' youngest sister and quite an attractive looking woman, pours some water into a bucket and dismounts from her horse. She gives Pheras the bucket telling him to clean himself up and goes to check Tristan's arm.

While Tristan knows its only lightly bruised he finds he just can't say no to Sindel as she examines him. But then again the only one who can or even wants to say no to Sindel is Xedel. Even the fiercest man seems to melt under her gentle touch.

Though they’ve been together for the last couple of years, Sindel has made it perfectly clear that she is not interested in a relationship with any man. And she has kept her resolve, but that does not stop her from being kind and tender to her comrades.

After putting a wrap on his arm. She smiles at Tristan and says, "There all better now." She turns to Xedel, "Now why did you do that! Someone could have been hurt you know. One of these days your tricks are going to backfire and get you into a lot of trouble!"

Xedel ignores her as the warped gears in his mind churn as he considers the burning dung.

Sindel, recognizing her brothers' mood, gives up in disgust and returns to her horse. "When Pheras is cleaned up we'll continue on.

That was this morning.

Around noon they are attacked by a swarm of biting flies and a horrible stench engulfs them. After fending off the flies for a while they discover that the flies are attracted by the bag of steaming dung that Xedel decided would be good to bring along.

The resultant scuffle to remove the dung from him resulted in both Xedel and Tristan getting covered in dung, which attracted even more flies.

After cleaning themselves off again the flies eventually left them alone and Xedel tromps around in a huff.

Then to the west there is a scream and the sound of an explosion that nearly causes Sindel's horse to bolt.

Xedel pulls out a wand with a crystal attached to the top and looks in the direction of the sound with the crystal. "I can't see it clearly but it seems some monster has attacked a couple of soldiers. They don't seem to be fairing well. Oh well I guess they die." He puts away the crystal wand and then does a double take as the others look at him incredulously. "What?"
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"Shhh! You can’t hear anything if you’re always talking. Now be quiet and concentrate." Gwydeon and Crow, Gedai and Stash, stand in the Endless Meadows.

After a very long silence Crow says, "All I hear is the horse, the wind, grass rustling and the insects."

"Exactly, you must learn what to listen for. Those are the natural noises, you must learn to listen for them. Should they ever go missing, that is when you know trouble is nearby. And if you hear a sound other than those, then you should identify it. If you can’t it could be trouble. You must learn to listen. Once you have that no one can sneak up on you. Nice try Stash, but in that heavy armor I can hear you coming a mile away."

Stash gives up trying to sneak up on Gwydeon, "Well it was worth a try."

Gedai, who has not moved and is still listening intently, suddenly frowns, "I hear something strange."

They go quiet and listen. At first it is nothing, but then they hear it. The sounds of men screaming, of battle, and of something else.

After a moment Gwydeon locates the general direction the sound is coming from. With his keen sight he sees smoke and dust rising up on the horizon.

"We should check it out just to be sure, there should be any Orcs on this side of the barrier but you never know."

Stash who seems to be itching for a fight says, "All right! Let’s do it!"

Crow looks at Stash shrugs his broad shoulders and says, "You know some times I really do miss the old days."

The group climbs back into the wagon and Gwydeon takes the reigns and they head out toward the dust to investigate the disturbance.

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