Lycanthropes - Midnight Dawning All in One

Midnight's Dawning

Often I am asked what it was like in the beginning, as if I were really there. I suppose, having been around as long as I have, it may seem that I must have always been as I am now. Time is but what you make it, as the saying goes, but the beginnings of it are lost even to those more senior than I.

Nevertheless, I do not like to discourage those who ask, in fear of turning them even further away from what little they know (or care) of our glorious history. And so it is that I have recalled this tale more times than I can count; yet it does not tire me to tell, because more than anything else I might recount, this is surely the best measure of our common beginnings.

The day dawned crisp and cold, with just the hint of frost in the air. The pale sun shed light but little heat in the mere hour since it had risen, and the world seems hesitant to wake and face the chill. Most of the world, anyway; a lone rider trotted over the grassy hills, making a sharp silhouette among the fleeing shadows. The man was tall and of middle years, judging by the silver flecking his tawny hair. That was the only sign of his age though, as the rest of him was lean and strong. He moved with a smooth grace and sureness in his saddle that spoke of his long experience on horseback. A crimson cloak with golden trim flowed from his shoulders and down his back, partially hiding the heavy sword at his belt. His brown riding boots creaked slightly as he stood up in his stirrups to survey the countryside around him.

Nudging his grey horse with his heels, he cantered down the hill following the well-worn dirt road. He was in no hurry, since the villagers would not be expecting him for several hours yet. Already he could see the roofs of the outlying farms, with their razor-straight columns of smoke rising from their chimneys. It seemed to him as if even the smoke was too cold to spread as it rose to the sky. A morning this still might have portended ill to him in his younger days, but he had been willing to see the messages of Lathander in everything then.

As he continued along the road, he drew in the reins, evoking a small whinny of protest from his horse. The man slid down from his saddle and bent to the ground, examining the churned earth. The tracks he discovered by the side of the road would be mistaken for a horse or ox by most men, but the slight irregularity of the distance between them was what caused his brow to furrow. After bending over the patch of worn ground for a few more minutes, he quickly swung back up into the saddle and galloped towards the village.

The sunlight played through the branches of the sparse woods, throwing shadows among the tall trunks. A lone figure picked his way through the forest, carefully stepping around the undergrowth. Although there was no path, he moved with the unerring sense of one who knew exactly where he was going. His dark gray eyes were nearly hidden under the deep cowls of his hooded robe. The deep brown of the cloth made him seem to vanish when he stopped moving, and he made hardly a sound stepping among the dry leaves in his soft-soled boots.

Suddenly the man stopped, turned to his left and pointed into the forest. "So, you have decided to disobey me again, have you?" he said.

"Awww!" cried a small figure, stepping out from between the trees thirty paces away. "One of these days I will sneak up on you," the girl said, throwing back her hood to reveal dark, almond eyes and raven black hair.

"You will, will you?" the man chuckled, "First you will have to convince the trees to aid in your deception, Keryl. Now what did I tell you before I left? The garden will not tend itself, you know."

Keryl thrust out her lower lip and crossed her arms. "But Papa, it’s so boring! I wish I could learn the Art with Brin and Rhodell instead of tending stalks all day. They get to have all the fun."

The man tousled her hair and smiled at her. "You know you must wait until your Proclamation Day for that. Besides, I think you would be in less of a hurry if you asked them just how much work it is. You’ll be wishing for the days of garden tending then, my blossom."

"Wish for the garden?" Keryl exclaimed, tossing her head. "I could never hope to be back there on my hands and—"

She cut off abruptly as her father cupped his hand over her mouth and pulled her against him. He quickly slid back among the trees, half dragging her along and motioning her to quiet as he moved. She squirmed and looked past him, wide-eyed, as a half dozen dark shapes came into view at the far edge of a clearing atop a small rise.

The shapes moved in a loose cluster, all more than half again as tall as her father. They moved in a half loping, half-lurching stride, as if their legs were not quite the same length. Although they were still too far away to make out more than their shape, a rancid smell wafted to Keryl’s nose. She could do nothing but stare in horror as they moved in the direction of their hiding place.

She turned to look up at her father. He still held her against him with one arm, but was moving the other through the air, tracing an intricate pattern next to the trunk of the tree. Looking back towards the menacing shapes, she caught her breath to see they were still headed vaguely in their direction. She thought they hadn’t noticed them yet, but they surely would if they got much closer.

Turning back to warn her father, she gave a slight gasp when she saw only the trunk of the tree. She could still feel his arm around her, with his hand still covering her mouth. A slight movement against the tree revealed his head, giving the slightest nod to quiet her. "The Art," she whispered to herself, staring in surprise as she noticed that her own body seemed to have disappeared as well. All thoughts of wonder quickly disappeared as the figures drew abreast of their hiding place.

Close up, the tall, misshapen creatures were even more terrible. Faces with protruding eyebrows framed sunken black eyes. Rows of sharp teeth filled their muzzle-like mouths, and black, matted fur covered their heads. Their legs were also covered in fur, twisting towards the ground at impossible angles and ending in black hooves. Rough wooden clubs, spears with rusted tips, and rusty swords hung from their twisted arms as they spoke to each other in a rough, guttural language Keryl couldn’t understand. They looked around for another minute, then began to move off, shuffling their deformed legs.

Keryl remained completely still for what seemed like hours, not daring to make a sound that might bring the awful creatures back. Finally, her father released his hold on her and stepped away from the tree. Bending slightly towards her, he said, "We must get back to the village right away. Stay close to me and be as quiet as you can. There may be more of them."

"More?" Keryl thought to herself, trying to look in every direction at once. But then her father began to move off through the trees at a fast walk, and she needed no encouragement to match his pace.

The shadows from the tall mountain peaks still had not cleared the broken ground as the pair of dark-robed riders moved across the desolate landscape. Nothing else moved in the barren, cracked land. There was no trace that anything lived in this area, save a few small, twisted trees that dotted the landscape. The riders seemed unaware of their surroundings, keeping close together and peering intently at an object suspended between their horses. The leather sling holding it bulged towards the ground around the odd shape, and apparently weighed quite a bit, to judge by the horses’ effort to keep moving.

"The horses won’t be able to make it much farther, Puomo," said one of the figures, raising his head. The deep hood of his robe hid most of his face, but intense green eyes and a sharp nose were plainly visible.

"Don’t worry, Henil, we’re almost there." The other rider wore an identical cloak, but silvery hair and piercing black eyes stood out from her hood. Silver trim around the edges of her robe marked her position, but otherwise the two bore no marking of their allegiance. None would have mistaken them, though; the Keepers of the Essence were universally recognized and feared.

Henil grunted. "I still don’t understand why we had to come out here alone. Surely some novices could have helped us carry this. And on horseback! I’ll be stiff for a week after all this jouncing around. A portal would have been far faster."

Puomo sighed and shook her head slightly. "We’ve been over this already. It is imperative that nobody else knows of this discovery until we can understand what it means to us. And who knows what effect it might have on an open portal? I for one would not like to find myself on the wrong side when it collapsed, would you?"

The hard look Puomo directed at him said she would allow no more discussion on this topic. Her demeanor was calm, but the light in her eyes dared him to contradict her. In all his years of service, she had never backed down once she had set herself to a path of action. And this time she seemed even more intense, if that were possible. He would have to bear the rest of the journey out in silence if he wished to make sure things did not get any worse.

The sun continued to rise over the peaks, driving the shadows back towards the mountain’s base. Even at their labored pace, though, they were still staying under the deep shadows. Henil was grateful to stay out of the sun as long as possible knowing his deep black robe would soon soak up all the heat in this land. He noticed a slight tingle beginning to run along his skin and sat up taller in his saddle sensing they were almost at their destination.

Puomo brightened as well, feeling the first whispery traces of the power they had come to examine. She had been here before, of course; all novices made the trip out here as part of their training. It had been a while though, and the enormity of the power ahead awed her again now as it had all those years ago. None but a Keeper would have noticed its presence, but anyone who could weave the essence even the tiniest bit would be able to detect the Great Barrier.

She remembered the story of the Last Realm War as vividly as when she first heard it as a child. Her father had described how the world was once overrun by evil creatures, twisted by their desire to kill and destroy. They had driven people from their homes, burning whole villages in a massive tide that threatened to sweep their very race from the realm. King Odulo had called all the greatest warriors to make a final stand, aided by the most powerful Keepers of the time. It was they who had turned back the evil, pushed them back league by bloody league. Lathander’s Knights, the Brotherhood, the Earth Tenders, the Keepers of the Essence- unified for the first time in history to drive out the menace. Even the monstrous Children of Gaia had joined the final battle, though why or how they had known was still a mystery. And, having forced a retreat back into the Shadowpeak Mountains, the Keepers had worked the most powerful weaving in history: the impenetrable Great Barrier that would ensure the evil would never again cross out of their foul land.

It was this barrier that drew Puomo, for it was the only surviving work from that time. The immense power of the Barrier would offer the best chance to see whether the heavy talisman she bore was actually what she thought it was. She looked eagerly ahead, almost as if she could see the Barrier itself, though she knew this was impossible. It was completely invisible, and those who could not sense its presence would have to walk headlong into it before realizing it was there. Still, the excitement of discovering whether she was right had her leaning forward in her saddle.

"This should be close enough," Puomo announced, drawing in her reins. Henil stopped his mount as well, sliding down out of his saddle and walking a few stiff paces. Puomo dismounted and immediately set about lowering the burden down from between the horses. Setting the leather sling on the ground, she unwrapped the odd-shaped talisman. Dull bronze gleamed against the cracked ground, and once again she was struck with the object’s plainness. A simple, unadorned carving of an eye lay before her. About an arm's length across and slightly egg-shaped, the talisman seemed to be solid bronze from its weight. She could not lift it unaided, which normally would be no problem for one with her talents. However, she had carefully avoided any weavings around it for a reason, and she wasn’t about to use her power to lift it now.

Beckoning to Henil, she called, "Help me move this away from the horses." Henil grunted and moved stiffly towards her. Each taking one end of the eye, they lifted it enough to carry it a dozen paces away. Carefully placing it on the ground, the black-robed pair looked around the barren landscape. Nothing moved in any direction, and the heat waves already rising from the ground ensured that no creature would be seen this day. The shadows had receded closer to the base of the mountains, leaving them exposed to the powerful sun. The black robes gathered the heat as effectively as they themselves gathered the essence for their weavings, and sweat poured openly down their faces.

"Well, I’d better begin. It’s not going to get any cooler out here." Puomo’s slight smile allayed Henil’s nervousness somewhat, though he still looked like he would rather be far away from here. He nodded in agreement, though, and backed away a few paces. There was nothing more for him to do now but wait, and watch.

Puomo closed her eyes and began the simplest weaving she knew: the Inspection Weave. Designed simply to allow the weaver to examine another weaving, it was the first taught to all novices. Reaching out gingerly with the weave, she touched the eye. Suddenly her mind felt like it had expanded a thousand fold as it was buffeted with images. She could see the entirety of every weaving within a hundred miles, from the smallest warding on a home, to the immensity of the Great Barrier just a few thousand paces away. Reeling from the flood of images, she forced the scope of the vision to narrow, concentrating it just on the Barrier.

Immediately the awareness of other weavings faded. Now that she had focused just on the Barrier, she could see every detail of its structure. The complexity and raw power of it astonished her, as she allowed her mind to probe along its length. Effortlessly, she ran down the Barrier, hundreds of miles in both directions. She followed its slight curve as it turned to follow the mountain ridge to the south. Lost in the wonder of studying the weaving, she remained unmoving.

Henil watched as Puomo stood motionless. She seemed to be fine, though he began to wonder as the minutes stretched on whether something was wrong. He was on the verge of approaching her when she suddenly gave a shout a leapt back from the talisman.

"What’s wrong? Are you hurt?" Henil nearly shouted, springing towards her. "Did something happen?"

Puomo stumbled back a few more paces, shaking her head and waving her arms for balance. She managed to stop herself next to Henil, though she still looked shaken. After catching her breath, she turned to him.

"We must get back to the tower, right away." She was already striding towards the eye quickly, her gaze intently on it.

Henil was baffled at her quick change of mood. "What? Did it hurt you? You have to tell me what’s going on. We can’t risk taking that thing with us if it’s dangerous."

Seeing that he was not going to help until he got an explanation, Puomo pursed her lips in slight frustration. She sighed and said, "We were right about it. It is the Weaving Stone all right, and I could see every tiny weaving for leagues around me. It’s not dangerous; it’s amazing. I could see every detail so clearly."

"Then what’s the problem? You jumped like a snake had gone up your robe."

Henil seemed visibly relieved, but she was sure he would not be when she told him what had frightened her. "I followed the Great Barrier south, probing it. I was able to go almost half its length, down near the woods of Barovia." The fear in Puomo’s face was palpable, and she did not scare easily. A lump began to form in Henil’s throat. "I…I found a tear. A huge piece of the Barrier just… missing. It felt like it had been ripped away by massive claws."

Henil gaped at her, his mouth working but no sound coming out. "Now will you help me? We must convene the tower council immediately." Before she had finished speaking, Henil stumbled over to the eye. The two of them quickly lifted the heavy talisman back into its sling and reattached it to their mounts. Within minutes, they were trotting as fast as the horses could muster, back in the direction they came.

The afternoon sun shone through the thick trees, barely reaching the forest floor. Shadow covered the dense undergrowth as the trees attempted to swallow up all available light. A shadowy figure passed silently through the tangle, moving with the easy grace of a predator on the hunt. In fact, Barlg was hunting, a luxury he was not afforded often these days. Most of his time was spent dealing with the problems of his pack, so it was rare that he had time completely to himself. Even if his animal instincts said it was unnatural to be hunting now- his kind much preferred to take their prey in the dark- his human side knew he must seize these chances whenever they arose.

He moved behind a large tree, pausing for a moment to sniff the air. Looking down at himself, he noticed that his hair was more silvery than before. He thought that those who knew him years ago would hardly recognize him, then laughed silently at himself. Those who knew him "before" would never know him now, not after what he had become. It amused him that he still sometimes thought of himself in human terms.

He caught the scent he was after, and sprang into motion. His flowing, half hunched stride took him effortlessly up a small rise and into view of his prey. A large buck, still a few years from full adulthood to judge by its antlers, had paused at the other end of a short clearing. Its head was up, scanning the tree line and breathing heavily. He had pursued it for a long while now, and it was tiring. He could have finished it several times now, but had held off; after all, he was quite an accomplished solo hunter for a wolf used to relying on other pack members to help. He had delayed to revel in the glory of the chase, but the buck would not be able to evade him again, as far as it had run already. It had not caught his scent, since he was downwind, but it would see him as soon as he made his move. The clearing was wide enough that it would be at full stride before he could close the distance, meaning this final burst could be a long one.

Gathering his powerful legs under him, he snapped his jaws with a sharp click and burst towards the deer. It was in motion immediately, bursting off through the trees. Barlg raced quickly to top speed, taking advantage of the tangle-free clearing to accelerate. The buck was fast though, its white tail bobbing back and forth as it bounded off ahead of him. Ordinarily he would not have been able to gain ground; no wolf could on a deer for long distances. But the buck was exhausted already, and began to stumble as it climbed a low hill and bounced down the other side. Barlg had already halved the distance, and knew he would bring it down in a matter of seconds.

Suddenly the buck took a hard right turn and leaped over a shallow stream. Barlg turned to follow but stumbled on a loose rock on the bank. Dipping his head as he stuck out his leg to regain his balance, he caught the faint trace of a scent that stopped him in his tracks. The deer bounded off over a rise, but he paid it no mind anymore. He bent back to the ground to examine the strange scent. It was one he had not encountered for so long that he thought his nose must have been playing tricks on him. Sniffing up and down the streambed, though, he knew this was no mistake.

Quickly he followed the trail along the water. It stayed next to the stream for a while, then turned up the bank. The scent was old, at least two days, but the creature that had left it was well known among the Children of Gaia for leaving lasting trails. This strong odor once covered the entire wood, up until the Hunt for Survival had driven them out. Few among his current pack were old enough to remember, but he had been there when they drove the Foul Ones from their territory for good. It had been a costly campaign, taking many packmates. He was merely a pup then, and it was mostly luck that he was not among those sent to join Gaia’s Hunt after leaving their earth-bound bodies behind. He could still taste the acrid blood of those he had downed, feel them struggling in his jaws to wound him even as they died. It was these memories that drove him to seek the source of the scent, hoping he was wrong about their return, but knowing he was not.

Barlg stopped as he came to the clearing that marked the edge of their territory. There was only a small break in the trees; barely enough to notice any difference, but all the Children knew not to cross this boundary. Actually, they knew they could not cross it, not since the Black Robes had made the wall that kept out the Foul Ones. He approached the invisible barrier cautiously, following the scent as it lead right up to the boundary. Stopping, he puzzled over where the creature could have gone, then stepped forward. Expecting to bump into the wall, he shook his head slightly as he passed through it. Lifting his nose and sniffing around, he caught the faint scent of the Unseen Power, the smell of the Black Robes’ work. He found that the wall was still here as his snout bumped its edge, but a large gap had been opened in it.

The hackles on the back of Barlg’s neck began to rise. A hole in the wall meant a return to the days of the Hunt for Survival. It meant they once again would have to kill and die for the very land his pack had defended all those years ago. Grimly he turned around and headed back towards the Den. He would have to rally the pack to the call of the hunt once again, and he did not relish the thought of what that meant for their future.

The sun stood in the middle of the sky above a courtyard as two men circled each other. The first, a tall, somewhat lanky figure of at least middle years, padded effortlessly on the dust-covered ground. His bare feet hardly seemed to touch the ground as he flowed around the other man, and his loose, white robe rippled with his movements. He was slightly balding with silver hair, but his stance spoke of a body hardened to muscle and sinew, and his hands traced small circles in front of him. The end of a black rope tied around his waist dangled along his hip as he moved.

The other, dressed the same as the first, was somewhat shorter and stockier. He moved with the same deadly grace as his opponent, and flexed the tight muscles in his arms as he circled. He was younger and more muscular, but he kept his gaze fastened directly on the other man's eyes and carefully matched his pace to the other's, keeping the distance between them exactly the same as they spun.

"What's wrong?" The younger man said, panting slightly. "Don't tell me I've worn you out already, Sten. I was just starting to enjoy myself."

The other man gave a quick, breathless laugh. "You? Why, Graf, you disappoint me. You know you haven't bested me in years, and if you think you have now, then I must have dislodged your brain with that last blow."

Graf gave a short chuckle himself without missing a step in his circling. "Not bested you? Well, I suppose the mind is the first thing to go in the elderly, after all."

The two fell silent as Sten suddenly slid forward and extended his right arm in a quick punch. Immediately, Graf countered the blow with a quick movement and extended a punch of his own. The two stood two paces apart, delivering a furious barrage of blows and counterblows at each other. Each swing was countered, each new attack thwarted as soon as it was launched. Suddenly Sten crouched and then sprung up in a half leap, grabbing Graf's wrist in mid-punch and twisting his arm as he spun. Graf came up on his toes momentarily as he tried to break the hold, then quickly swept a kick through Sten's legs, breaking the hold and tumbling them both to the ground in a heap.

"Bravo," said a black-robed figure, stepping out of the shadows along the edge of the courtyard and clapping his hands mockingly. "And I thought all you people did was see who could drink the most ale."

Instantly both men were on their feet side by side, assuming defensive stances. The figure continued to approach the two calmly, chuckling to himself. As he came into the light, his figure became more transparent, as if he were not quite solid.

Sten strode right up to the figure and stared down at him. He towered over the figure by at least a head, and he used all of his height as he shouted down at the man. "Henil? Have you lost your mind? Just being here breaks at least a dozen treaty agreements, not to mention using a projection to spy on us."

Graf stepped along side Sten and said, "He can't be far if he's using a projection. Should I order a search to find him?" His eyes glittered dangerously and a slight curling at the corners of his mouth showed he would like nothing better than to find the tresspasser personally.

"Before you storm around the countryside and wake up all the sheep, you might want to hear me out." Henil's mocking smile made both of them clench their fists. "I wouldn't have come here like this without a good reason."

Sten grunted. As odious as they were, the Keepers were not known for being stupid. They would not risk the frail peace they had managed to negotiate with the Brotherhood for something as mundane as spying on their exercises. "Very well, you may speak, but it better be news of the Return itself."

"Actually, that's exactly what it is," Henil said, the smirk disappearing from his face.

Graf snorted. "You can't expect a straight answer from one of their kind. Let me go find him and we can wring the truth out of him."

Sten raised his hand for silence and turned back to Henil. "What are you talking about?"

Henil took a step back and passed a hand over his face wearily. He lifted his eyes to meet Sten's and replied, "I know it sounds outrageous, but this morning some villagers reported some orcs in the hills outside our tower. Normally we would just dismiss such nonsense, but we also found something else today. A….problem with the Great Barrier."

"Problem? What kind of problem?" Graf levelled an icy gaze on Henil. "Have you lunatics decided to dismantle it?"

Henil bristled and snapped back, "Of course not, you buffoon! You know as well as I that the knowledge of how the Barrier was erected has been lost for generations, and not from lack of interest by the Tower. But in one of our routine inspections we discovered a breach. We still don't know how it got there, but we all know what this means if we don't act quickly."

Sten rubbed his chin thoughtfully for a minute before he spoke up. "How many know of this?"

"Only a few of the council in the Tower. Needless to say, we haven't been spreading this around."

"Good. We must make sure that nobody finds out about this until something can be done. What does the Tower think about the prospects of repairing it?"

Henil shook his head and shrugged. "Like I said, the knowledge of its workings is gone. But we must meet as soon as we can. Just the Tower Council and your First Brothers. Mistress Puomo sent me to arrange it as soon as we can. Time is of the essence now."

Sten nodded. Shooting Graf a sharp look before he could voice any objections, he continued, "You were right to keep this close. The countryside would go into a panic if word got out. Where is this breach? We should meet somewhere nearby so we can be ready to act quickly."

Henil nodded and said, "It is outside Barovia. We will meet you there two days hence. May the Life Essence grant you a swift journey." With that, the image vanished.

"You don't actually believe this wild tale, do you?" Graf sputtered. "This is exactly the kind of trick they would use to lay a trap. It's all too convenient for my liking."

"Well then, it's a good thing you haven't been raised as a First yet, isn't it? We certainly must go, and swiftly. Did you see the fear in his eyes? Black Robes don't scare easily, least of all those in his position. He was definitely shaken. To appear here as he did, with the consequences it entails…something is very wrong."

Graf spat and muttered, "Good luck convincing the other Firsts to go. They'll hardly get past the part of Henil appearing in our courtyard before they're calling for treaty violations to be settled."

"Well, I'll just have to be very convincing," Sten said quietly, "The very fate of the world may be riding on it."

As Sten walked slowly towards the door of the courtyard, he furrowed his brow. It would not be easy to convince the others to trust the Tower. But what choice did he have? He suddenly thought his morning exercises seemed very far away.

The village of Durindil was a sleepy place, even in the late afternoon. A few people could be found in the dusty streets, and the occasional horse-drawn wagon would rumble through, but very little seemed to happen on even the main street of the town. Very little, that is, until the rider came charging into town at a full gallop. The man's plate armor clanked and jostled as he jumped down from his horse in front of the inn. The owner of The Wishing Well, as it was called, a squat, middle-aged man with a bald patch on the top of his head, stuck his head out of the door curiously. Catching sight of the rider, his face broke into a wide grin.

"Paendryl! You made it. You're early though, no need to come barrelling into town like a pack of wolves was on your heels. You'll wear out your poor horse that way. Come on inside, I'll get you some ale."

Paendryl adjusted his cloak and shifted his sword belt. "As always, you are too kind, Ordal. But I'm afraid the nature of my visit has changed. Do you know where the village council members are now?"

"Well, at home I expect. We aren't due for another meeting for a few weeks yet. But I'm sure they're all going to come to your blessing tonight. They certainly wouldn't miss that." Ordal continued to smile, but not quite as broadly as he caught the other man's mood.

Paendryl nodded. "Yes of course, well it certainly is good to be among the faithful again. A town like Durindil makes Lathander smile on His creations. I will still give the blessing this evening and talk with them then."

Paendryl began leading his horse off to the stable. Suddenly, a screaming woman came running into the town. Arms flailing wildly, she screamed at the top of her voice for help. Running over to her, Paendryl caught hold of her arms and shook her slightly. Her wild gaze seemed to snap into focus on him and she panted for breath.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He asked.

"It's my husband, " she wailed, "He went up into the forest to set some wolf traps, they got into the flock last night, and he said he wouldn't be long, but it's been hours now and when I went to check on him I found the flock was gone and blood everywhere…" She wound down as she gasped for breath.

"Which way to the forest?"

As the woman pointed, Paendryl was already throwing his leg over his saddle. He turned the horse and galloped out of the village, calling back over his shoulder for Ordal to gather the council.

Riding hard, Paendryl quickly reached the grazing fields. The sheep were nowhere to be found, but he located the blood trail easily enough. The ground was chewed up and blood covered everything, but he was able to find the tracks he sought without much difficulty. They were the same as he saw on his ride that morning, oddly twisted tracks that cut into the soft ground. Two sets of them, at least; the apparent struggle made it hard to tell how many had been involved. It was apparently over quickly though, and a long, bloody trail showed that a large body had been dragged off into the forest.

Leaving his horse, Paendryl followed the tracks into the trees. The trail was easy enough to follow, but he concentrated on moving as stealthily as he could manage in his heavy plate. He eased his sword out of its scabbard. He knew orcs were often sluggish and inattentive after a kill, but he also knew he was outnumbered and out of his element among the trees. Luckily orcs rarely formed groups of more than a few unless forced to, so he hoped he could catch them unaware and nullify their advantage of numbers.

Ducking under the low-hanging branches, he strained to follow the trail as it became tougher to pick out. The victim must have been running out of blood, he thought grimly. Moving up behind a wide-based oak, he caught a barely audible grunt ahead. Peering around cautiously, he saw a slight clearing up ahead that held his quarry.

Two large shapes loomed hunched over a mangled heap on the ground. No doubt the poor woman's husband, he thought, as he sized up the situation. They hadn't heard his approach, and they seemed to be moving slowly. They had probably spent the last hour or so feeding, so he should be able to catch them by surprise. The two shapes near the corpse stood quite tall despite crouching down; he would have to take them by surprise to have any chance. As quietly as he could manage, he stepped from tree to tree, drawing closer. Finally, a bare dozen paces or so from their makeshift camp, he paused. They still hadn't seen him, and one crouched with its back to him. Whispering a brief prayer to Lathander, Paendryl leaped into the clearing.

A started grunt came from the orcs as the one facing him lunged for a club. Paendryl spared him only a glance as he swung his sword at the back of the other. The sword caught the creature right under the chin as it turned to face him, neatly beheading it before it could stand. Whirling to face the other orc, Paendryl froze. The orc stood, clutching a huge club in its misshapen hand like a twig. It towered above him, all strange angles and foul-smelling fur, snarling at him as it advanced. The sheer size of the creature hit him, and even all his training as a Knight seemed useless against this monstrosity. Regaining his composure, he quickly sidestepped a wild swing from the club and snapped back to himself. This was his training, another exercise with a practice sword. He felt the cold distance return to him as he once again became one with his sword.

Although wrapped in steel, Paendryl found he was still faster than the huge orc. He darted in to slash at its arms and step back before it could level him with its wild swings. The club was huge, but slow, and he was methodically opening wounds. It would tire soon from the blood loss, and then he could strike. Suddenly, the creature lunged forward, swinging wildly. The club caught his thigh hard, denting his armor and sending him careening to the ground. The orc dove on top of him, its foul blood dripping down on his face as the creature attempted to crush the life from him. His sword, pinned between them, was useless, and Paendryl struggled to keep the huge hands from his neck. Its overwhelming strength soon had him pinned to the ground as it clawed at the seams in his mail. He fumbled desperately at his waist for his dagger as he felt the air leaving his lungs.

Suddenly the orc's head snapped back, its arms clutching at a thick vine wrapped around its neck. The vine hauled the creature up to its knees as it fought for breath, and Paendryl struggles out from under it and scrambled to his feet. Driving his sword in front if him, he plunged it deep into the creature's exposed chest. Its choked scream trailed off in a gurgle as it collapsed on the ground.

Spinning wildly, Paendryl checked for more attackers. What he found instead was a brown-robed figure, a man standing at the edge of the clearing. At a gesture from him, the vine unwrapped itself from the orc's neck and slid back down to the forest floor. Paendryl eyed the man for a moment, then lowered his sword point to the ground as his legs nearly gave way.

"Dangerous creatures, especially for you to handle alone," the man said from beneath his hood. "You are lucky I was nearby, or the forest would have another body to reclaim." He gave a piteous look at the mangled corpses in the clearing.

"I…I couldn't allow…them to do it again," Paendryl gasped, "But I thank you…for saving me."

"I am Udi. You are hurt…let me see what I can do." He approached and removed Paendryl's helmet, placing his hands on either side of his head. Murmuring to himself, a slight glow began to surround them. After a few seconds, the glow faded and Udi stood.

Paendryl felt the shaking in his limbs leave him and gingerly stood. He turned to Udi. "I had to make sure they didn't attack the village again. I…they can't lose another in this way." His nod towards the gristly carcass held pure disgust.

Udi nodded and said, "It is a good thing there were not more of them. But you are right to worry for the villagers. Soon it could be much worse if they are not prepared."

"I must get back to warn them. The village council will be waiting by now." Turning to go, Paendryl hesitated and stopped. "I know my people have not always gotten along with yours, but please accept my thanks. And be careful; it seems that you are right in the thick of things here."

"Indeed we are, but you needn't thank me just yet. With the return of the Dark Horde none are safe, and my people will need help to drive them away. I am coming with you."

Paendryl started slightly, then nodded. "Let us go then, we have no time to waste."

Striding off in the direction of his horse, Paendryl marvelled at the turn of events. "Sometimes Lathander works in mysterious ways," he thought to himself.

Yawning and stretching in his saddle, Graf rubbed his stomach. He thought longingly of the breakfast he had turned down all those hours ago. Leaving so early in the morning really was uncivilized, especially considering the reason for their journey. Rousting him out of bed before he could eat a proper breakfast just to meet some Black Robes was wholly unjustified.

He glanced over at Sten, and snorted. Well, at least someone was feeling chipper. He had no idea how long Sten was up that night trying to convince the other Firsts to go along with this meeting, but the least the man could do is look tired. Even his robe seemed less wrinkled than the one Graf had dug out of his dressing trunk hours before sunrise. Muttering to himself, Graf made an effort to hide his annoyance. If Sten could do it, so could he.

The two rode down a quiet, hard-packed dirt road, gently winding over the rolling hills. The fields around them showed signs of recent grazing by the numerous flocks in the area, but none were around now. They had passed out of Kurly village so early that morning that none had seen them leave. And though their pace was not hard, the many hours they had been riding already showed in their mounts' heavier than usual breathing. It had been a while since they had ridden this far from the Dojo.

Up ahead, the road slid down a hill and turned to enter a forest. Graf shifted in his saddle, knowing what that forest meant. They were about to enter the woods of Barovia, attempting to ride directly through that most dangerous of stretches. Once the town of Barovia had been a thriving place, and this road was heavily travelled. Now, the town was abandoned and none dared follow the road into the lost town for fear of what it, and the surrounding forest, contained.

Graf twisted in his saddle to look at Sten. "We can still wait here for the others and go through with them. It would probably scare those creatures off seeing so many of us together on the road."

"We've already decided this," Sten replied, "and you know we have to go through. This matter cannot wait until a sizeable force of the other Brothers can make their way here. We have to make as much haste as we can."

"Well it's all well and good for those Robes to suggest meeting there; they just have to step through one of their magic doors to get there. They don't have to ride past the whole forest crawling with those beasts. This is probably their plan you know, get a few of us picked off by those things without having to take the blame."

Sten fixed him with a chilling gaze. "What must be done, will be done, and breath spent denying it is breath wasted. If we have trouble with the half-beasts, we'll deal with it. Besides, they are rarely sighted along the road."

"By those who live to make it back," Graf murmured to himself. His stomach's uneasy churning made him glad he had not eaten after all.

Sten urged his mount forward and took the lead as they crossed under the canopy of trees. The forest sounded like any other in the morning, alive with the calls of birds and the rustle of unseen creatures on the forest floor. The two kept a sharp lookout as they rode along the road. The trees were not especially thick, since the dense heart of the forest lay further north and the road was still fairly wide despite the lack of heavy use. Still, every crackle of leaves or snap of a branch made them eye the forest even harder as they rode.

Gradually, the road wound its way through the forest and found the now-deserted town of Barovia. Approaching the edge of the city, Graf uttered a sigh under his breath, and he noticed Sten looked relieved himself. They rode into the town along the single road, heading for the heart of the once-thriving city.

"I guess we'll just ride to the town square, " Sten said. "It's as good a place as any to wait for them. Hopefully they're already here so we can begin."

Graf grunted. "I'm not so sure I'd hope for them to have beaten us here. Who knows what traps they may have laid already? I'd feel better off with a few more Brothers around as insurance."

Riding slowly, they still reached the town square after only a short distance. Though rather small as towns went, Barovia once controlled a booming logging trade that had given the town a thriving population. But the conclusion of the Last Realm War had placed the Great Barrier right through the forest, cutting off the mountainous northeastern regions where the Children of Gaia had hunted. Blocked from their ancestral territory, they had taken over the woods of Barovia, and the townsfolk had not waited long to begin moving out. It was one thing to trust the creatures as allies when the evil had threatened and given them no choice. With the threat gone, the people were not as willing to risk their lives on the continued goodwill of those they feared. In fact, most were of the opinion that the Barrier should be extended south just to make sure no more trouble would come from them.

Sten dismounted and stretched his legs with a few stiff steps. He had not ridden that far in a long time, and he was starting to feel his age in his saddle-weariness. Graf slid down and worked the aches from his muscles as well. Sten grinned to himself and thought that maybe he wasn't quite as old as he felt.

Without warning a glowing circle appeared at the other end of the square. Dark shapes appeared against the bright background as four black-robed shapes stepped through. The two men turned to face the new arrivals, each tensing a bit out of habit.

The two who stepped forward Sten recognized immediately. Puomo's deep, black gaze and silvery hair would have marked her easily, even without the silver trim on her robe to mark her as the Tower Mistress. Her assistant Henil was also easy to spot, his prominent nose and sparkling green eyes showing clearly from under his hood. He did not know the other two, but that was not unusual. The Tower was a closed society and he knew only a handful of its members. Even that little knowledge was a lot among the Brotherhood; the recent negotiations with the Tower had been the most contact the two groups had had since well before the War.

Sten stepped forward and bowed formally as Puomo approached. "Good morning, Mistress. I hope the day finds you well."

"As well as can be expected, First Brother," she responded with a slight bow of her own. The other robed figures had moved up behind her and stood at quiet attention. Graf eyed them with barely concealed distrust as he stepped up behind Sten.

"You can call off your henchman," one of the other robed figures said in a raspy voice, looking at Graf. "Were we intending a fight, we would not have had to come to this place." The voice was certainly female, though grating enough to send a small shiver down Sten's spine. He could make out no features hidden inside the dark hood.

Graf stiffened, and Puomo spun on her heel to glare at the speaker. "You will remember your place, or you will be made to remember it when we return to the Tower." Turning back to Sten, she said, "I apologize for failing to introduce everyone. You of course know High Assistant Henil. The one afflicted with the too-eager tongue is Weaver Ejka, and the other is Weaver Te'Yor." She gestured to each as she named them. Sten still could not make out any features on Ejka's face even as she gave a slight nod in his direction, and could barely see some long wisps of brown hair within Te'Yor's hood as he bowed in acknowledgement.

Sten gestured to his side as he introduced Graf. He seemed to have composed himself enough to give a civil bow to the others, but Sten didn't want to give the other man a chance to test just how courteous the Tower members were willing to be. "Let us get down to business then, " he suggested, "since it seems we have an urgent situation on our hands."

Puomo nodded in agreement. "The tear is about fifteen leagues north and east of here. How it happened, I cannot say, but the opening is big enough for two to pass abreast, and that means it is only a matter of time until the Dark Horde finds its way to it."

"If they haven't already, that is, " Graf interjected. "You said something about reports from villagers when you contacted us."

Henil nodded. "That's true, but the tower is quite a long way from here. If any Dark Ones really do know about the tear already, I doubt they would have travelled that far to find prey."

"Well, discovered or not, it is still a threat." Sten rubbed his chin as he spoke. "We already have a contingent of Brothers making the journey here to stand guard for now. They should arrive in a couple of days. In the meantime, we need to figure out a more permanent solution."

Puomo replied, "We have discussed the possibility of attempting a repair. It would have to use some less permanent construct, a force wall that would have to be renewed every few days. It is not as reliable as the Barrier itself, but we could keep it in place by sending a few Weavers to strengthen it regularly. The bigger danger is of attracting attention to the Barrier's weakness. A force wall of the required strength would be easily sensed by any powerful Essence-user on the other side. Most were wiped out in the Realm War, but we have to assume at that least some survived. By now, there could be quite a sizeable force of Essence-wielding Horde members who could detect our patch."

Graf shook his head. "You want to light a beacon so every filthy creature on the other side will come to bang its head against the wall? I think we'd have better luck posting a permanent guard to scare ‘em off. Surely they won't attempt to squeeze through a tiny crack if they see an army waiting on the other side."

"It is more than just keeping them out that is the problem," Ejka rasped, her voice resonating slightly from the depths of her hood. "The tear in the Barrier means the its very structure is exposed. Any Shadowling of sufficient power could begin to pick it apart from the inside, causing more and more of it to collapse and fly open. An army could hold the gap as it is now, but what if it is widened enough to stretch half a mile? The only way to preserve the Barrier is to close the damage magically."

Puomo sighed. "I'm afraid this is the most pressing part of the problem. Since we cannot recreate the barrier, any widening of it could spell a return of the Realm Wars. As it is, the tear widens slowly on its own without the reinforcement of a closed Weave to prevent deterioration. Sooner or later, we will have to face them once again."

Te'Yor cleared his throat. "There is one chance that we could repair the Great Barrier itself. With the use of the Weaving Stone, that is."

The other Weavers spun to face him, casting cold glares on him. "It is not a topic to be discussed with outsiders, Te'Yor!" Puomo seemed to grow taller as she took a step towards him, staring angrily.

Te'Yor took a step back and replied, "I'm sorry, but I think it really is our only hope. Besides, we would need their help to give us a chance to try it."

Sten's eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the Black Robes in turn. "What exactly is this he's talking about? If there's any chance to restore the Barrier, I think we ought to discuss it."

Puomo turned back to him and gave a sigh. "You're right, we must discuss all our options if we are to succeed. It's just that we haven't had a chance to test just what this discovery means to us, to our world."

"Well why don't you start explaining so we can know what we're signing up for?" Graf crossed his arms and stared levelly at the others.

"Yes, I had better start from the beginning." Puomo exhaled and set her shoulders back as she started her story. She related how a recent expedition of Tower members into the Barren Lands, in the northern regions of the realm, had discovered an unusual pattern of weavings buried in the ground. Upon digging to its source, the group found a heavily warded chest buried several feet below the surface. Unable to force the strong magic open, they had returned with it to the Tower. For days, the strongest there had tried to crack the shell of the ward, but to no avail. Searching for a record that might explain how or why the chest was placed there, Henil uncovered an old writing from before the War describing the complex wards. Although incomplete, it gave enough detail that he and Puomo had been able to find a tiny crack in the weaving, and managed to unravel its core. "And within the box, we found the Weaving Stone, " Puomo concluded.

Sten wrinkled his brow. "So what does it do, exactly? Is it what made the Great Barrier in the first place?"

Te'Yor spoke up quickly, "Well, not exactly, but it could have been a part of it. You see, the Weaving Stone doesn't do anything, really. It merely extends the power of a Weave that passes through it. That was how Puomo was able to detect this breach all the way out here. It extended her probe of the Barrier by hundreds of times, far more than could even be achieved by several Weavers working in unison."

"So what does that have to do with the Barrier, " asked Graf, "When you guys don't even know how it was made in the first place? It doesn't really matter how strong you can make something if you don't know how to make it."

Te'Yor nodded and continued, "Yes, that's true, we still do not understand the complexities of the Barrier's weave. But that doesn't really matter in this case. The reason the Great Barrier has stood for so long, even without anyone to tend it, is that a weave that is constructed with enough power can become self-sufficient. It can reinforce itself, never needing any more help to maintain itself. And that's what we might be able to do with the Stone. Although we can't recreate the Barrier weave, we can push a lot of extra Essence into the tear. The reason it is unravelling is that it is no longer closed, so some of the Essence is seeping out. But I think if we can pour enough Essence back in, we can coax it to grow back together and seal the tear."

Te'Yor excitement made a marked contrast with Sten's voice as he spoke. "Well, it sounds like that is the real solution to the problem. But why get us involved? Why not just gather up your strongest Weavers and go try it?"

Puomo shifted her feet, seeming unwilling to speak. Ejka's dry voice filled the silence. "Because, what he forgot to mention in this tale of his is that the other side of the Barrier is more eroded than our side. In order for this to succeed, the Essence must be added from the north side to close the tear." Her slightly sardonic tone made the explanation seem a mocking rebuke.

Puomo dropped her gaze to the ground. "So you see, we would need help to give us time to try this out. We would certainly attract every Shadowling for miles, necessitating enough of a force to hold them at bay. Since most of our numbers would be required just to grasp the Essence we would need, we could not hold them off for long enough."

Sten's troubled gaze matched the faces of those around him. Everyone except Ejka, of course. He could not see her face within the deep hood, but he had a feeling she was laughing quietly to herself. "It seems we have quite a predicament to deal with, then. But what you have told me is that no other solution offers us a chance to keep the Horde back permanently. Sealing the hole with a force wall will only prolong the disintegration of the Barrier, and we will be facing them eventually. We must try to repair the Barrier itself if we are to preserve the realm."

Graf frowned but nodded. "I guess there's not much hope of another plan coming up. How long would this repair take?"

"Half a day, maybe less, depending on how much Essence we can manage to direct through the Stone," Henil shrugged. "Of course, that's assuming we don't have any interference with our Weavings."

"Too long for the Brotherhood to hold out on its own, if any good number of the Dark Ones show up. They've been without a battle for so long, our numbers surely won't intimidate them. It looks like we're going to have to convince the Knights to help us out," Graf mused.

Henil nodded. "We have already contacted them, but I think they will be more likely to join if you will dispatch a message asking them to help. They are not known for their trust in us." He grinned slightly.

The discussion of tactics and numbers continued, with more details being brought up, argued, and decided. The rest of the plan did not interest Barlg much. He had heard what he needed to hear, and silently stalked out from his hiding place among the decaying buildings. A return of the Foul Ones, and an army of the humans marching through his pack's territory to combat them. He snarled silently as he loped back towards the Den. They would not be able to separate themselves from the rest of the world for much longer.

A solitary vulture circled high overhead, lazily beating its wings just enough to stay aloft. The hot, dry sun hung in the sky, shining through a haze onto the cracked land below. A few hearty clumps of brush dotted the plains leading up to the foothills of the mountains, but otherwise there was nothing to break the flat monotony of the landscape. The dark-robed figure lowered the spyglass from his eye and the deserted wasteland leaped back to its proper place, far enough that he could no longer make out any details. The figure pulled up the hood of his robe to cover his face even further inside its thick cloth and began to make his way down from the vantage point on top of a hill near the base of the nearby mountain.

Reaching the small camp at the base of the hill, he beckoned to a large figure bending over a tattered map on the ground. Rising on misshapen limbs, the orc stepped over to him quickly with a shuffling gait. "Yes, My Lord?" It said in a deep voice, forming the guttural words in a tone that passed for deep respect among its kind.

The harsh language grated on his nerves as it always did, but the man answered in the same rough tongue. "I see they haven't made a move yet. Have the scouts reported any more activity near the breach?"

"Nothing close to the breach, Lord Oonul, but they have sighted a small group moving into the town to the south. I think someone has finally noticed the crack."

The man nodded and replied, "I had hoped for some more time, but we will have to prepare to act. The fools who rushed through at the first opportunity have certainly attracted attention by now. How long will it take to mobilize our forces and reach the opening?"

"About two days' march, with a day of preparation to gather supplies and make ready. But the extra battalion will not arrive for another two days. The best we can muster if we leave now is half your force."

"Yes, well that will have to do for now. We cannot have any mistakes after all the preparation for this time to come. Lord Commander Hzzrix will not allow it." Oonul rubbed his thin, cracked hands over each other unconsciously as he spoke. Though bent and frail-looking next to the towering orc, his voice was that of one used to giving orders and having them obeyed. The orc bowed in acquiescence and withdrew, waving his arms at the others in the camp and shouting orders.

Murmuring to himself, Oonul turned his gaze to the south. Indeed he would seize this opportunity while he could. Too long had passed since his exile to allow any mistakes now. He knew he would be able to push back across into the land that had turned him out, take his revenge on those who defied him so many years ago. He thought of how he would make them pay, and he smiled.

An agitated murmur rose from the assembled crowd, sounding to Paendryl like a hornet’s nest that had been poked with a stick. He looked out over the faces before him, gathered in the common room of The Wishing Well. The entire council had arrived as well as most of the town, speaking loudly and gesturing emphatically to each other. It was the disquiet that comes from worry, and he was sorry he had to be the bearer of the tidings. Toward the back of the inn, Udi stood against the wall, his face unreadable as he watched silently.

Raising his hand for silence, Paendryl waited for the crowd noise to die down to a low buzz before speaking. "I know you are all worried, and I do not mean to add to your troubles. I certainly wasn’t expecting to find this when I set out. Please, it is important that we stay calm and take reasonable precautions."

A woman lifted her voice above the crowd. "And what do we do if they come to our homes? Our pitchforks won’t be much use against them!"

"Poor old Birham could be only the first. We need to arm ourselves and protect our lands," cried a burly man in sweat-soaked clothes. Many nods and grunts of agreement rose up from the crowd.

"Please, listen to me," Paendryl said, raising his hand again. "Patrolling around the forests will only lead to more confrontations. These creatures are as cruel as they are vicious, and the last thing you want is to provoke them. I will send to the Knight Council a request for some protection for your village. A light force of trained soldiers will be far more effective at deterring them than wandering around yourselves."

The crowd became louder again as some protests were raised. Just as many voices argued in his favor, though, and Paendryl hoped he would be able to convince the townsfolk not to do anything hasty. Certainly, wandering through the fields waving scythes and torches would not help the situation, but he could not blame them too much. They felt scared and threatened, and needed to be reassured.

As he struggled to hold the crowd’s attention, he noticed two armed figures making their way into the room through the door. As they entered the lighted inn, he was astonished when he saw their red cloaks with gold trim. Quickly he stepped down from the box he had been standing on and jostled through the crowd to join them.

Reaching the two, Paendryl clasped each of their hands. "Cerivil, Wenvo, what are you doing here?"

Cerivil was tall and lanky, with a carefully trimmed moustache and neatly combed brown hair. His cloak surrounded him like a royal robe, and he carried himself with a grace befitting a man nobly born. Wenvo made a sharp contrast, with his shaggy blond hair reaching his shoulders and a stocky, stout frame reminding Paendryl more of a rain barrel than Cerivil’s weed-like build. Wenvo’s mouth also had a natural turning upwards at the corners, giving him the look of one ready for mischief.

A shadow flitted across Cerivil’s face as he spoke. "We do not bring good tidings, I’m afraid. But perhaps we should not talk of Knight business here." His gesture around the room at the crowd pressed close around them indicated that he thought his news would be better kept from the villagers.

"If it is about the orcs," Paendryl replied, "They are already aware. There was an attack in the woods just today."

"An attack?" Wenvo’s face flashed surprise. "And we missed it? Tell me, did you fight any of them yourself?" His face flickered eagerly to hear of any news of battle.

"Indeed he did," came Udi’s voice as he moved over to join the three knights, "And were it not for him, more widows may have been made this day."

Paendryl gestured to the brown-robed figure and said, "May I present to you the Earth Tender Udi, without whose intervention there certainly would have been another victim today." The two nodded to him as he considered them with his knowing gaze. Though he had just admitted that he owed the man his life, the distrust long borne by the Knights made Cerivil and Wenvo’s expressions guarded.

Cerivil cleared his throat and said, "Well then, it seems you are already ahead of us. We rode into town from the camp just a few miles off. Our battalion rides hard to the northeast at first light tomorrow, but we knew you would be here."

"An entire battalion?" Paendryl gasped. "How many of these filthy beasts are loose?"

Wenvo shrugged. "The commanders won’t give out many details, other than that it is imperative we reach Barovia soon. I thought we were headed to teach those slathering man-beasts of Gaia the way of the lance, but as we rode they let slip that we are to join a force of the Brotherhood already there. Something about an important battle at the Barrier. I’m just glad to be out with a chance to use my sword on something other than a straw dummy."

"Indeed, I was making preparations to ask for some defenders for this very village, but it seems the council is ahead of me. Did anyone say why the Brotherhood has a battle force already in Barovia?"

"They seem to have been warned of the creatures by the Black Robes," Cerivil said. "In fact, a group of them is there too, from what I could gather. With so much interest in Barovia, it must be a dire situation indeed. I think you will want to come with us."

Paendryl nodded as Udi spoke. "We have gathered some of our most skilled Art Workers to head there as well. It seems the Return is upon us, and no effort is being left out to spread the word. A Weaver’s projection appeared in the very heart of our grove to warn us of this event, as it seems they warned you as well. To break their customary secrecy, even they must think this is beyond their abilities to control alone."

Paendryl rubbed his brow and said, "It seems we have some more riding ahead of us. I’d better get to the camp to report to the commanders as soon as I can. Tomorrow will be a busy day."

Cerivil nodded his assent. Wenvo, that small grin still playing around the corners of his mouth, headed for the door. The other two Knights dropped in behind him, with Udi following a few steps behind. The crowd continued its worried chatter, and to Paendryl’s ears it sounded like the faint rumbles of thunder before a storm broke. Where will we take shelter when the skies open, he thought grimly.

Dark clouds slid past overhead, driven by a stronger than usual wind. Sten rubbed the back of his neck as he watched them, thinking how they resembled the mass of men assembled deep in the woods. It was a different wind that drove them, but no less powerful. All around him, the army's camp spread out like a blanket covering the forest floor. Low, brown tents in one section sheltered the Brotherhood's contingent, with robed figures tending cook fires and rubbing down their horses. On the other side of the camp, taller, narrower white tents peaked towards the sky, with representatives of the Knights polishing their swords and tending to their steel-plated armor. A third group made up the final side of the camp, sandwiched somewhat between the other two yet towards the northern edge, stretching out into the forest. These were the small band Udi had brought. Not many, but enough to be welcome for the coming storm. They seemed more at home away from the bustle of the main camp, preferring to stay to the outside among the trees. They carried no baggage or weapons that Sten could see, yet he had seen what they could do and was glad for their presence.

Just then, Graf poked his head out from a nearby tent. Ducking under the low flap, he emerged from the tent and walked over to join him. Though he had changed into a new robe, he still looked rumpled and sore from the ride.

"So, do you still think this is a good idea? Three days now and no sign of the Black Robes. I'm beginning to think maybe this some kind of trap after all, not seeing hide nor hair of them all this time." The corners of Graf's mouth turned down as he spoke, as if the very mention of those he distrusted tasted sour.

Sten met his gaze levelly and replied, "You know we have to wait until everything is ready. Our forces need time to prepare anyway. Besides, if it were some kind of trap, I think they would have sprung it by now. Just be patient, and they will come when it's time to move."

"Solid advice," said a red-cloaked man coming around a nearby tent, "It will be some time yet before we can move with any confidence. Our forces are still tired from the ride." The man gave a sweeping bow, holding the sword at his side as he bent over and giving a slight flourish of his cloak with his other hand. "Greetings, First Brother Sten, it is an honor to meet you. And to you, Graf, as well. I have heard of your exploits and feel grateful to finally meet the men behind the stories. I am Lieutenant Paendryl, at your service."

Graf grunted and crossed his arms in front of him. "Save the bows and speeches for the royalty. I just want to get our job done and get out of here, and the sooner the better. I don't like hanging around in these beast-stalked woods at the command of some self-important Tower woman."

"Never mind him, Lieutenant, he's just a little saddle-sore. It's been a while since he's had to drag himself on any real ride." Sten let a smile slide across his face as he nodded to Paendryl. Graf snorted and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I'm glad you and your brothers were able to make it here so quickly. It will be a lot easier to do what we must with the support of the Knights."

Paendryl nodded. "Though I must confess to being a bit anxious myself. It is not altogether imprudent to wish for a speedy conclusion to our duties, so we can leave this place. Ah, perhaps we will have some answers shortly." Paendryl gestured over the Brothers' shoulders as a ribbon of light was opening just outside the camp. Black robed figures began stepping out onto the forest floor before the hole had completely stopped widening. About forty emerged before the hole was allowed to close, five of them bearing a large, cloth-wrapped object. One of the figures looked around and, seeing the three men, strode over to them.

"Greetings again, First Brother," Puomo said from beneath her hood. Looking around the camp, she gestured to the gathering forces. "It seems we will not lack for strength on this endeavor. Hello again to you too," she said slightly mockingly in Graf's direction, whose face became even darker as he eyed her warily. "And I see the knights have made it too. We may just pull this off after all." Her nod toward Paendryl seemed to take him in quickly. She obviously had noticed his rank from the embroidering on his cloak, as she did not attempt any kind of formal greeting towards him.

Sten spoke a formal greeting of his own, then asked, "So what news? Is it time to move then? I gather from your numbers that the Tower is ready to act?"

Puomo nodded and adjusted her hood, her dark eyes still managing to stand out from its shaded depths. "We have gathered as many of our members, and even some students, who we deemed could be helpful to our cause. We are woefully short of experienced Weavers, but we should have just enough for the task at hand. I take it the Earth Tenders have arrived?" She looked over the camp to the far end, where a few brown robes could be seen among the trees.

"Yes, they've been here a day now. All should be in order by tomorrow. So, what exactly will you and your people need to repair the Barrier?"

"Mostly, just enough time to perform the Weaving. We'll need to get through the breach and repair it from the other side, enough to force the torn edges back together. All we need from the others here is enough time to do so."

Paendryl stepped forward. "How will we get back through the Barrier if you close it? We will all be on the north side holding of the Horde while you're repairing the tear. I don't think any of us relishes the idea of being on the wrong side when it closes."

"We only need to close it enough to even out the two sides," Puomo answered. "Since the north side is more badly damaged, we have to narrow it until it becomes even with the other side. Once the two sides have been pinched back together, there will still be a wide enough gap for your forces to fall back through. Then we can finish closing it from the inside."

"Assuming you give us a chance to get back through," Graf interjected. "How do we know you won't just slip back through and close it up on us?"

"Always the suspicious one," Puomo chided, "but you needn't worry. We will have to hold our progress from the north side to keep any of the Horde's own weavers from unravelling our work. So we will have to be the last ones through. Surely you can trust us when our own lives are on the line too." Puomo's mocking smile drew only a grunt from Graf.

Paendryl nodded. "Well then, I guess there is nothing more to be done. The Knight scouts have reported some movement in the foothills on the other side of the Barrier, so we will have a battle on our hands when we get on the other side. It is impossible to know how many though; they couldn't risk straying too far into the Horde's territory."

The grim faces all around reflected the mood of the group. "Well then," Sten added, "I think we'd best prepare. Tomorrow will tell all of our futures." With a nod to everyone, he turned and headed into the Brotherhood's camp area to make preparations for the coming battle. The group dispersed, each going to his own group among the campsite. Sten looked back to watch them go, and wondered how many of those he now saw would see another sunset after this night.

A low, cold fog clung to the forest floor in the pale, predawn light. All around, the separate camps of the makeshift army were beginning preparations for the day ahead. Paendryl ducked out of the small tent and stretched. The night had been a sleepless one for him, tossing and turning with thoughts of this day's duties keeping him from his rest. From the sounds he had heard around the camp, many others had shared his difficulty in finding sleep. He looked around, watching the camps wake and prepare the morning meal. Cook fires were being stoked from the night before, and slowly those around him were climbing out of their tents. Some tended their armor, some hefted swords and lances, while others shivered in the chilly air with grim looks on their faces. The tension hovering over the camp seemed thicker than the mist swirling around his feet.

Walking to the edge of the Knights' camp, he saw that the Brotherhood's camp was also stirring. Brown-robed men were tying on their colored belts and throwing logs onto rebuilt fires to chase away the morning cold. A silence seemed to blanket them as well, and Paendryl wondered how many of them had been able to sleep. Turning his gaze towards the thicker forest, he saw movement among the branches. The small group of the Earth Tenders that had joined Udi would be there, sleeping on the forest floor and feeling quite at home with no tents. They also built no fires, preferring not to disturb the forest with such danger, Udi had told him. Even there, though, a tangible quiet seemed to hang over the dust-robed figures. It seemed no one was immune from the feeling of anxiety this morning.

A rustling sound in the dry leaves alerted Paendryl to Cerivil's approach. Already dressed in his full plate armor and flowing crimson cloak, his broadsword in its sheath dangling from the belt in his hand, he made an impressive figure. "A fine morning to meet our destiny, wouldn't you say?" he announced, with a slight smile on his lips.

Paendryl shuffled his feet. "I suppose it will have to do. What do you think we'll really meet out there? I mean, what if they don't know we're coming, so we can fix up the Barrier and get back home before they even know what's happening?"

"Well that would be criminal of them," bellowed a voice as a figure approached the two from the right. Wenvo looked dishevelled, with his hair curling in every direction and dressed his wrinkled riding clothes that he seemed to have slept in. "We come all this way to teach them a lesson, so the least they could do is show up for it, isn't that right?" He bellowed a sharp laugh and clapped Paendryl roughly on the back. "So how many will you get, anyway? Shall we lay a wager on who can best show them what it means to mess with the Knights?"

"I believe they will be there, and as prepared as we are, if not more so." Cerivil's somber tone caused Wenvo's grin to fade a bit. "They surely know we're coming by now, since they've had their run of the breach before we even knew about it. They're ready to meet us blade for blade, I'm sure of it."

The silence after he finished stretched on for a few awkward moments, then Wenvo clapped them both on the shoulders and hurried off, muttering about finding some breakfast. Paendryl and Cerivil exchanged sober glances and parted, to prepare for the day ahead.

Oonul gathered his robe around his shoulders as he guided his horse down the rocky embankment. Around him, a nightmare scene of monstrous figures, orcs and trolls and creatures too horrible to put a name to, poured down the slope. Soon they would reach the forest floor, and be ready to cross out of the trees to the blasted, cracked land around the Barrier. His under-commanders loped along next to his horse, keeping close enough to carry out any of his orders swiftly. He paid them no heed; today, he was intent on his revenge.

Once again he went over in his mind how he would catch them unaware, strike in a thunderous wave that would crush them against the very wall the sought to repair. That wall had divided him from the conquest that should have been his, forced him to live like a castaway, toiling among slavering beasts, waiting for his chance to be avenged. But it was here now, his chance, after so long, picking and prying, banging and pounding against the blasted Barrier. But the crack was not his doing, he admitted to himself. It had simply started to decay, as all things eventually would, and that fact would give him his victory.

He turned in his saddle to examine the key to his plan. At the rear of the mass of creatures followed a small band of violet-robed orcs. A seeming mass of twisted limbs, some incredibly tall, some impossibly short, but all twisted and bent at odd angles, these were his secret weapon. He had selected each personally, gathered together those that showed the most promise at Weaving. Slowly, torturously, he had taught them, fashioned them into his tools. After years, decades, he had finally amassed enough to know that what he wanted them to do, what he needed to accomplish to ensure his victory, would come to pass. He was sure of that much.

A tall, green-skinned orc dressed in a polished bronze breastplate and a steel helmet with a tall, white plume, stepped closer to Oonul's mount. "My Lord, the scouts report movement on the other side. We will be ready to advance shortly, but it looks like they will be able to set their forces before we can strike."

Oonul's mouth twisted bitterly for a moment, then returned to its usual stony mask. "Very well. As I expected. We will gain no surprise on them this day. Just as well that they be fully aware of their doom coming at them. They will fall, no matter how they align themselves."

"Yes, My Lord," the orc said, bowing and sliding back into the marching army. His voice could be heard bellowing orders to prepare their forces for the advance. Oonul allowed himself a small smile, thinking of how his enemies would be frozen in terror, facing his unstoppable army of bloodthirsty creatures. Up ahead, he saw the columns coming to a stop as they reached the end of the trees. They would stop, massing for their charge, concealing their true numbers in the trees until it was too late. The fear they would create on that rush would be enough to make up for their foes' advantageous position.

Turning his horse around, Oonul made his way back through the oncoming army, back to his small bunch of orcs. Riding into the middle of the sea of violet robes, he turned his mount in a slow circle addressing his hand-selected force. "Today, we will accomplish the Master's plan. We will drive ourselves back into the lands behind the Barrier, making it run with blood. We will reclaim what is ours by right, what we once held and was stolen from us. And we will make them pay for our years of exile. They will pay in their blood!"

A screeching, howling cheer rose from their twisted lips as he finished, a sound to send chills down the spines of men. The unnerving cry spread quickly into the ranks of the army in front of them, until the whole mass of creatures howled in anticipation. Through the din, Oonul sat quietly, surveying his army and smiling to himself. After so long a wait, he was ready to take back what was his.

Sten watched as the sea of brown robes filed through the gap in the Barrier. Many of them paused briefly while passing through the crack to run their hands along the invisible wall. Most of them turned quickly away, unnerved by the strangeness of finding an invisible wall in thin air. Of course all knew of the Barrier, yet none of them had actually seen it, and coming to a place where they could touch it made most nervous. Looking around him, Sten saw the Brothers massing in the area near the breach. In front of them, arrayed in a long, arcing line, the Knights of Lathander sat motionless on their horses. Dressed in shining, burnished steel, carrying steel-tipped lances and with visors clamped firmly over their faces, they seemed made of steel themselves. Only the snapping of the pennants among their ranks, marking the divisions within the battalion, gave any indication of movement. They had been the first to push through, walking their horses through the narrow crack in the Barrier. They had moved quickly to form a tight wall around the breach, expanding their arc of steel into an increasingly large bubble as more Knights joined them. It had been a tense exercise, all knowing just how vulnerable they were until they could get their forces through the breach in large enough numbers. Now that all were through, though, the tenseness seemed to change from fear to anticipation. Sten said a silent prayer that they were wrong, and that all these forces would not be necessary.

Just then, a horrible, howling call rose from the trees to the north. The entire forest that led up to the dark mountains seemed to be moving, seething and screeching with the voices of an untold number of creatures. That sound broke the razor-sharp precision of the Knights, whose mounts started pawing the ground and shifting nervously. The riders pulled on their reigns to bring them back into line, but they too looked around anxiously, seeking some reassurance. The Brothers, who had been filing the last of their numbers through the crack, milled about uneasily, craning their necks to see over each other to the source of the terrible howling.

"Be still, Brothers, be still!" Sten's voice brought their heads around in unison, and they continued spreading out to make room for the rest to join them. They still looked nervous, though, and he could not blame them. That noise sounded like there was no small force waiting for them.

Graf trotted over to his side. "We've got all the Brothers through, and the Tenders are dispersed among us as well. There aren't too many of them, but Udi says they can handle the wounds even with so many of us. The Black Robes are about to come through now. I told them to hurry up, but you know them. They think they have all the time in the world here." He glowered a bit, then cast his critical eye over the Brothers in front of him, searching for orders to give.

"It's okay, Graf. They will be here. But I wouldn't mind getting out of here as soon as we can, either." Sten's forced smile did little to lighten the mood, but Graf gave only a short bark of a laugh and slipped back into the ranks, shouting orders as he went.

Just then, Sten saw the procession of black-robed figures filing through the Barrier. At their head came Puomo, flanked by Henil. A mass of other figures followed behind them, and he could only make out the two he had met before among the unfamiliar figures. Te'Yor was directing a knot of three Weavers, bearing an elongated object wrapped in cloth. He directed them to set it just a few dozen paces past the Barrier. Near the rear of the robed procession, he saw Ejka, hood still pulled up revealing only piercing eyes from its depths.

He approached Puomo and made a formal bow. "Hello again, Mistress. It seems our forces are in place. They are out there, but have made no move as of yet." There was no need to say who "they" were.

"Greetings to you, First Brother. Yes, it seems from that cacophony before, they didn't leave many behind. We should get started as quickly as possible." She nodded curtly to Henil, who waved at the three who had set down their burden.

Te'Yor reached down and threw back the cloth covering. On the ground lay an egg-shaped, bronze carving, heavy and somewhat dull, worked into the shape of an eye. The object's gaze was fixed directly north, staring sightlessly into the forest ahead. The black-clad figures wasted no time, aligning themselves in a circle around the Stone. Another ring of Weavers formed a second circle enclosing the first, until all were surrounding it, leaving only Puomo and Henil on the outside.

Puomo spoke soberly to Sten. "It begins now. If they haven't moved yet, they surely will once they see what we're up to. You'd better make sure all the forces are ready." She took a deep breath then strode over to the circle with Henil following closely.

Sten nodded and gestured to Graf, who began pointing and waving his hands, aligning the Brotherhood's forces behind the mounted Knights. He waved at their mounted commanders, and the Knights began passing orders down the line, lances shifting and armor creaking as they tested their grips on their weapons. Among the brown robes of the Brotherhood and the steel-clad Knights, dust-colored cloaks could be seen moving around, as the Tenders prepared to perform their duties as well.

Puomo turned her back on the readying army and faced the Barrier. Those in the circle did the same, turning to follow her gaze up to the invisible wall. Even though she could not see it, it was as if she could. The huge, pulsing Weave that was the Great Barrier gave off such power that all of those in the circle, from the most powerful master weaver down to the newest novice, could tell exactly where the Barrier lay. And where it was torn as well, the gaping sense of nothingness at its base. Without a word, Puomo reached out with a small weave, pushing it into the Weaving Stone and directing it towards the Barrier. On cue, the entire circle did the same, touching the great Barrier in front of them with dozens of weaves at once. Then Puomo's weave seemed to shift a bit, becoming brighter and with more strands of force encircling it. It began to draw the other separate weaves together, pulling them into the thickening strand until all of the individual strands became one, a large, glowing rope of individual fibers, all directed at the Barrier's surface.

Puomo gritted her teeth and said, "Henil, help me control it. I can't do it alone. Push from the other side and help me direct it over the breach."

Nodding, Henil narrowed his eyes to slits and focused himself on directing the huge weave. It was certain that this large an effort had not been attempted since the creation of the Barrier itself, and he knew their numbers today were nothing compared to those who built it. The two of them fought, forcing the thick, glowing strand to butt up against the top of the breach, high above their heads. Where it touched the crack, the Barrier seemed to pulse, its torn edges glowing and thrashing. Then, as the strands from the opposite sides became entangled with each other, the top point of the crack began to close. Slowly, seemingly taking an eternity, the top point closed on itself, leaving an unmarred surface behind. An excited buzz shot through the circle, and the thick weave swung wildly across the Barrier's surface. Puomo gave a sharp hiss, and the members of the circle fell silent immediately, concentrating on focusing their energy into the Stone.

Just then, a jarring howl rose up, a shrieking scream coming from the north. Henil and Puomo exchanged glances, then returned their gaze to the great, glowing weave in front of them. The rest would be up to those behind them. She hoped they could keep her circle safe long enough.

Oonul watched impatiently as the enemy forces poured through the Barrier to the south. "Are we ready to strike yet?" he demanded of the plume-helmeted commander by his side. "We must take them before they can do something unexpected." He nearly seethed with frustration as he stood next to his horse.

"Yes, My Lord, we are almost ready. Our scouts are just now returning with a detailed strike path." The commander bowed nervously several times, knowing what his master's displeasure entailed.

Suddenly, a vast force seemed to spring up in the air around Oonul. He snapped his gaze to the south and gaped, as a huge, glowing weave of pure Essence appeared. The raw volume of power left him shocked for several seconds, unable to speak as he took in the sight. Then he whipped around to face his commander, his eyes nearly boring holes right through him. "Strike now! I don't care if the scouts are in yet, we strike now!"

"Yes, My Lord," the commander croaked, bowing as he backed away. Shouting the orders to advance, he ran off among the army.

Casting his gaze around him, Oonul saw the whole group of his violet-robed orcs staring as one at the huge weave to the south. None of them had even been in the presence of that much Essence, and they were dumbfounded. Clapping his hands sharply, he drew their attention back to him. In a powerful voice, he addressed them. "They are attempting to repair the Barrier. They think they can shut us out. But we will show them the futility of their struggle." He raised his voice over the growing din of the army around him pushing forward. "We will crush their precious Barrier, and overwhelm them where they live. To our victory!" He was shouting by the end, the roar of the charging army drowning him out. He didn't care; they were ready to fight. Swinging onto his horse, he led his force towards the battle.

Chaos swam around Paendryl as he spun in a circle, looking for attackers. His horse had already been killed, and he stood in the midst of dozens of individual clashes, brandishing his sword. Everywhere brown-robed Brothers and steel-clad Knights warred with misshapen orcs, towering trolls, and some creatures too horrible to name. It almost seemed to him that the battle had started on another day, so dim was it in his memory. He remembered a horrible screaming cry, monsters of hideous shapes and sizes, thousands upon thousands, pouring out of the trees. The Knights had hesitated, faced for the first time in living memory with an onslaught of the Dark Horde's masses. Then their commanders had sounded the charge, and they had spurred their horses in a deafening charge. The initial clash felled hundreds, but the foul creatures had kept coming. Nearly the entire battalion had been unhorsed by now, and the massive melee that boiled around seemed to have been going on for hours.

Suddenly a towering orc separated from the mass of bodies and headed straight for him. Swinging a huge spiked club over its head, it seemed ready to simply run him over rather than strike at him. At the last moment, its club came roaring down at him, and he just managed to deflect the blow enough with his sword that it struck only a glancing shot on his side. Although his sturdy plate took most of the brunt, he was still knocked to the ground. Quickly rolling to the side, he barely avoided another swing that left a small crater in the ground. As the orc attempted to lift the club again, he scrambled to his feet and slashed out. He caught the creature in the leg, and it howled in pain as it fell back. A flash of brown streaked over the fallen creature, and a flurry of motion punctuated by a snapping sound caused it to convulse and then lie still.

Standing over the broken-necked orc, Graf looked at Paendryl. "Are you injured?" he shouted.

"No, no, I'm ok," Paendryl answered, still glancing at the body on the ground.

Nodding curtly, Graf threw himself back into the fray and was swallowed up by the sea of combat. Before he could decide what to do next, Paendryl noticed another small group break away from the surging battle. Two towering trolls were pushing back two Knights and a Tender. They were slashing back at the creatures, but giving ground and slowly being surrounded. The trolls used their spears to keep the group at a distance, not allowing them close enough to strike. Paendryl rushed to help, only recognizing the group as he approached.

"Wenvo, Cerivil, Udi, I'm here!" he shouted, eliciting a grunt from Cerivil as they swung their sword wildly to keep the creatures back.

Udi, carrying no weapon Paendryl could see, dropped back even further behind the two Knights. "We need to flank them to divide their attack," he shouted. "Try to go at one of them from the side to slow him down. Don't worry, I can help once we get them apart."

Nodding, Paendryl took off around the group to the right, timing his charge to catch the nearer troll on his upswing. As it drew back its spear to make another thrush, Paendryl drove his sword into the creature's huge thigh. With a bellow, the troll fell back, dislodging the sword and turning on him. Faced with the towering troll now intent on running him down, Paendryl back-pedalled away, stumbling as he hurried to get out of range of the long spear. He tripped and landed hard on the ground, with the troll almost on top of him. But before the troll could strike, a flash of a dusty cloak revealed Udi leaping onto the creature's injured leg. Shouting unknown words, he grasped the wound with both hands. Everywhere his hands touched blood, a brown fungus sprung up, rapidly spreading and covering the troll's entire leg. Udi jumped off and rolled away as the troll dropped his spear and clasped at his leg, howling and screaming. Paendryl sat on the ground, gaping as the fungus cover the entire beast, swarming over its head and muffling its cries. It dropped to the ground twitching and kicking.

Paendryl looked to his left and saw the other two Knights had spread out, slashing at either side of the remaining troll. The huge beast suddenly caught Cerivil under one arm with his spearhead and flipped him back, spraying blood. Cerivil screamed and hit the ground hard as the troll advanced on him. Paendryl leaped to his feet and ran to the crumpled Knight, intending to ward off the troll or die trying. Before he could reach it, Wenvo fell on it from behind hacking and slashing at its legs and spraying blood everywhere. Paendryl reached the creature just as it fell to its knees and slashed its neck cleanly with his sword. Wenvo continued his battering for several seconds more, cutting the felled troll to pieces.

Turning, Paendryl saw Udi bending over Cerivil. He rushed over in time to see the vicious wound under Cerivil's arm closing. Udi looked up, exhaustion plain on his face. "He'll recover, but you'll have to get him to safety." He rose unsteadily to his feet.

"You need some rest as well, it seems," Paendryl replied. "Let's get out of here." Wrapping one of Cerivil's arms around his neck, he helped him rise and half-carried him at a slow walk. "We need a way out of here, Wenvo. Think you can cut us a path?"

Looking over the battle for a likely crease, Wenvo bellowed a cry and charged forward. Swinging wildly, he began carving a path through anything not quick enough to get out of his way. Slowly, the others followed his mad charge through the fray.

Lightning exploded and fire rained down from the sky. Puomo fought to ignore the battle sounds, ignore the deafening roar of the strikes falling to earth around her. She ran a hasty glance over the circle of Weavers behind her. All looked tired yet still focused, in spite of the distractions around them. They had managed to close almost half the breach, but it had seemed to take hours. It was impossible to know exactly how long they had been weaving, minutes and hours blending together. She continued to focus on directing the huge stream of Essence before her. Suddenly a fiery rock dropped from the sky and exploded on the ground just next to the circle. With a deafening boom, she was hurled to the ground. Shaking her head, she fought for breath enough to sit up and look around.

The entire circle of Weavers lay scattered around, groaning and shaking their heads. The massive weaving had been lost, the Weaving Stone lying dark and quiet on the ground. At least it didn't seem to be damaged, but looking around, she saw that the same could not be said of their circle. At least one black-robed figure lay motionless on the ground.

Calling them back together, Puomo was relieved to see that no others were killed. They looked dazed and afraid, though, huddling together. She turned to Henil, who nodded in confirmation of their only casualty, this time. Rushing over the hill, she saw two brown-robed figures approaching.

Sten ran up to the circle, followed closely by Graf. Both were breathing heavily, and both splattered with blood stains, their black rope belts streaming out behind them.

"What happened?" Sten asked as he stopped beside her.

"They have some weavers of their own, as we thought," she answered, running her hand through her dark hair. "They finally managed to hit closely enough to knock us down. Now that they know where we are, they'll waste no time blasting this area. They surely know what we're up to, and will use whatever they've got to stop us."

Sten nodded. "It sounds like we need to stop them at the source. You should take the Stone and move down the Barrier a bit. It will take them a while to locate you again, so you ought to be able to start the repair work again. I'll take a small force with me and try to tie up their weavers so they can't attack you again."

Henil shook his head. "That's suicide. What can you do against their weavings, besides hope to get lucky enough to reach them before they obliterate you? Your only chance is to reach them without drawing notice, and that means you'll need some of our Weavers to do it. It's the only way to counter them."

Sten considered for a moment, then turned to Puomo and asked, "Can you spare any of your circle to help us? I know you need all the strength you can muster for the repair, but all is lost if they keep blasting you."

"It will slow us down quite a bit, but I can spare one or two." Puomo frowned and turned towards the circle. "Ejka, Te'Yor, you will accompany them. Get them as close as you can and do whatever's necessary to distract their weavers. Don't get yourself killed, just keep them distracted."

"As you command, Mistress," Ejka rasped and gave a slight nod of her head. Her eyes seemed to shine even more brightly from within her deep hood.

Te'Yor motioned them over to him. "We can use a gateway to drop in behind them. We can't get too close, or they'll know exactly where we came out. As it is, they'll know something happened nearby, but not what or where. Gather your forces and we'll hurry out there."

Sten looked at Graf, who gave a big grin and said, "Forces? We're your forces here. We have no time to waste."

"Two of you?" Ejka hissed from beneath her deep cowl. "That hardly seems enough."

Graf gave a deep laugh. Sten smiled and winked. "Then you've never seen what two motivated Brothers can do. Let's get going."

Quirking his eyebrows doubtfully, Te'Yor made a quick gesture. An opening sliced through the air, showing a low, brown hill on the other side. The two Brothers leapt through the hole quickly, with the other two following behind.

Puomo watched them go, hoping to herself that they could at least distract attention away from her weavings. That was all that mattered now. "Quickly," she shouted. "Bring the Weaving Stone this way. Another strike will be coming any time now." She hurried off along the edge of the Barrier, leading he small band of black-robed Weavers, on whose shoulders the world now rested.

Crawling up the low hill on his stomach, Graf peeked over the crest. A knot of orcs, all wearing violet robes, stood on the other side. A lone figure in a dark robe stood in front of them, directing them. He was sure this was their target, and slid back down the hill quietly. He jogged over to where Sten and the two black-robed Weavers stood.

"They're just over the hill. They seem to be busy doing something or another, but they sure aren't paying attention around them. Some guy in a cloak is leading them. I think we can catch 'em off-guard if we hurry."

Te'Yor tilted his head to the side and thought a moment. "Well, if they are the weavers we're after, they surely felt our gateway. If they aren't even looking around to see what happened, they must be up to something big that they can't be distracted from."

"It matters little," Ejka hissed. "We have to fell them no matter what they intend. If you two are really as good as you claim," her piercing gaze swept over the two Brothers, "then a surprise attack should get their attention."

Sten nodded. "Let's get to the top of the hill. We can rush down on them from there. You two can use the hill for cover and do whatever you think will keep them off balance." He started up the hill, bending low against the slope.

Graf grunted and followed, scrambling up as fast as he could. Ejka and Te'Yor exchanged glances and followed them. Just before reaching the crest, Sten stopped and laid himself flat against the ground. Graf joined him, and the two awaited their black-robed companions. They were having trouble crawling in their robes, and finally managed to worm their way up to the top awkwardly.

"Before you go," Ejka rasped, "Let us give you a little assistance. Even you surely wouldn't mind an extra advantage?" Her sharp eyes seemed to glow with mirth as she looked them over.

"What did you have in mind?" Graf muttered suspiciously. "We aren't going to be very effective as frogs you know."

Sten shot a glance at him. "Remember, they're on our side, Graf." Turning back to Ejka, he nodded his agreement. Graf muttered a bit, but fell silent. Te'Yor nodded too, and began gesturing next to Graf. At the same time, Ejka began speaking her own incantation at Sten's side. When they finished, a strange aura had sprung up around Graf, a slight blurring as he shifted. Sten had not seemed to change at all.

"Well, it's now or never," Sten said, scratching at his arms as if they itched slightly. "For the Brotherhood!" he shouted as he leaped up and flew down the other side of the hill. Graf was only a second behind him and both were hurtling down the slope.

Sten seemed to fly as he rushed towards the startled group of orcs. Although they had left at the same time, he was already at the bottom of the hill before Graf had covered half the distance. Graf's eyes widened as he saw how quickly Sten flew into their ranks. His hands moved too quickly to follow, punching and striking the group with super-human speed. Even Sten seemed surprised at his own swiftness, crushing orcs and dodging away before they could hit him.

Catching a glimpse of Graf as he joined the fight, Sten thought he saw a blur of images around his companion. It seemed there were a whole line of brown-robed Grafs, each in a slightly different stance as they all struck at different targets. He had barely a second to realize that only one was really landing any blows before the battle closed around him again.

Initially startled, the orcs were quickly regrouping. While a few tried to attack them bodily, the others pealed back and began weaving attacks of Essence. Fire flew at the two Brothers, and the ground near their feet began to slide and buckle. Those orcs still trying to fight them off were also flung around, jumbling them into a heap. "You fools!" Oonul roared at them. "Don't just strike blindly! You need to hit them with something controlled!"

A few of the orcs changed their gesturing, and their arms began to glow with a white light. Charging, they threw themselves at the gyrating Brothers. Sten had just swept the legs out from one of his attackers when another flew onto his back before he could move. Shocking energy surged through him as all his muscles seemed paralyzed at once. He fell to the ground, then suddenly felt the weight knocked from his back. An array of Grafs stood over him, spinning and kicking back their assailants. Sten scrambled to his feet.

From the hilltop, Ejka and Te'Yor watched the battle. Brown robes flashed through the orcs' ranks, and everywhere they passed crumpled, violet heaps were left in their wake. Then they saw the group of orcs behind them, beginning to weave some dangerous attacks.

"They'll never be able to avoid it all," Te'Yor exclaimed as he started muttering a weave. "I'll aim for the right side, you take the left."

Ejka gave a curt nod and began a weaving of her own. Te'Yor finished first, and suddenly the air around three of the orcs caught fire. Screaming, they fell to the ground, flesh seared. Almost immediately, the left side erupted in a fierce windstorm. A funnel cloud ripped skyward, launching a clump of them into the distance.

Hissing in frustration as he watched his orcs being decimated, Oonul called to those still standing. "Fall back to the hill behind us. I will stop these fools and we will finish what we started. Move!" At once the orcs began running back towards the trees, heading for the low hills they had occupied that morning.

Drawing himself up, Oonul began an intricate weaving. Sten and Graf, just then finishing the last of the violet-clad orcs still around them, looked up. They could only gape as figures of pure fire appeared before them. Dozens of flaming figures, fashioned with rough arms and legs, stood before them, the heat searing their faces. The burning soldiers rushed forward in a flaming mass. Smiling to himself, Oonul turned and rushed after the orcs, heading for the cover of the trees.

Sten and Graf began back-pedalling, trying to keep away from the wall of heat and flames advancing on them. Ejka and Te'Yor leaped over the hill and began scrambling down to join them. "You won't be able to do anything yourselves!" Te'Yor shouted. "Drop back to us, we're coming!"

Needing no further encouragement, the two Brothers spun and ran back to the base of the hill. Giving a strange, hissing cry, the flame creatures rushed after them. Before they reached the two Weavers, Sten saw that they had already begun new weavings. Graf slid to a halt in front of Te'Yor just as a glowing staff appeared in his hands. Tossing it lightly to Graf, he said, "It's pure Ice Essence. One touch should slice them quite effectively." Graf gave a quick nod and turned around, whirling the staff in front of him. Meanwhile, Ejka had stepped up to Sten, grasping both his arms as a flash of light surrounded them both. "I have wrapped you in an ice field. It will ward off their flames and allow you to strike them as if they were flesh." Her rasping voice seemed to take on an extra viciousness, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Go after them, and we will use some tricks of our own."

Graf and Sten exchanged glances, then rushed forward. Startled, the burning figures stopped their charge and eyed the two warily. They seemed especially concerned by the glowing staff spinning in Graf's hands. Giving a brief nod, Sten quickly dropped to one knee with his hands clasped near the ground. Graf took a few steps back, then ran towards him, stepping into Sten's cupped hands and leaping. Sten pushed himself up at the same time, launching Graf into the air over the confused creatures. As he dropped into their ranks, staff whirling, a loud hissing sound rose. Everywhere the staff touched flames, steam rose and a gaping hole could be seen through the fire. Sten hurled himself into the crowd, fists and feet flying, as the two fought back-to-back.

Quickly thinning out their ranks, the two drove back the flaming creatures. When one of them broke from the group to flee, Te'Yor and Ejka were waiting to meet them with a blast of ice. In short order, the burning monsters began running in all directions, and the two Weavers extinguished them with quick bursts from their hands. When the last of them was destroyed, the two Brothers looked at each other and grinned.

"I have to say, I've never fought someone off with a giant icicle," Graf laughed, as the shining staff winked out of existence from his hand. "It was kinda fun."

Sten chuckled at him as the aura of cold left him. "Now I know how a snowball feels."

Ejka spoke in a rasp from within her deep hood. "Yes, you did well, but we must catch up with the others. They must be ready to try something new by now."

Te'Yor nodded and looked off towards the trees. "They do have a head start on us, but I think we can catch them. Let's go." He began trotting off towards the sparse forest. The others dropped in behind him as they hurried to catch up to the remaining orcs.

Henil gritted his teeth and looked over the circle of Weavers. All looked as tired as he felt. Even Puomo seemed to be flagging, though she fought hard to keep the signs of her weariness from her face. Her hood was tossed back, and her jet-black hair clung to her face where perspiration had dampened it. Still, she did not waver form the task of guiding the weaves.

Looking up at the Barrier, he examined their progress. Two thirds of the jagged tear had been closed. Shortly they would be ready to call for their army to pull back and begin making its way back through the gap. He could not wait for chance to rest, if only for as long as it took to withdraw to the other side of the Barrier and complete the repairs.

At least the attacks from the sky had stopped. He figured whatever Ejka, Te'Yor and the two Brothers were doing, they must be keeping their weavers busy. Not a single attack had been launched at their circle since the four had left. He hoped they would be able to escape harm themselves, though he realized that would be a lot to ask.

Looking around, he examined the sky to the north for signs of activity. Just as he did, he noticed a large, dark column begin to rise from the low hills. Nudging Puomo, he directed her gaze towards the growing fountain of Essence building there.

Puomo looked around, wondering what was important enough to distract her. She saw where Henil was pointing and abruptly turned all the way around. Waving her hands at the rest of the circle's members, they stopped and turned as well. A huge tower of Essence was growing, reaching towards the sky. A giant bundle of individual threads, similar to the weave the circle had been working on, now stretched up out of sight in the clouds.

"They must have at least as many as we do up there," Puomo breathed.

"Or some artifact even more powerful than the Weaving Stone." Henil's voice sounded very hollow to Puomo's ears. "What should we do?"

Puomo looked around. "I'm not sure what we can do. I think the best course of action is to call the army back through and finish the repairs from the other side. They should be able to fall back if-"

She cut off as the distant column suddenly raced through the sky over their heads. The force of the Essence, so powerful now that it was just above them, filled her with a tingling sensation. Before she could react, the powerful weave smashed into the Barrier with a deafening boom. The earth shook, throwing them all to ground. Puomo was just making her way back to her feet when another boom flattened her again. Gazing up from the ground, she saw what was happening. The huge weave was being pounded into the Barrier, smashing it like a giant battering ram. And she realized to her horror that it was working. All across the Barrier, spidery cracks appeared where the giant weave that made up its structure was coming apart. Another thunderous blow struck, and the cracks spread further outward, some joining each other to make even larger gaps.

"Hurry!" she screamed. "We must deflect it, or all is lost!"

Quickly she threw all the Essence she could muster into the Weaving Stone. Around her, she was barely aware of the others doing the same, scrambling to hold on to the ground as the booming smashes continued to pound the Barrier and shake them like rag dolls. She saw their own weave, now looking small and thin next to that black column, push its way to the sky. Whipping it around with as much control as she could muster, she hurled it in front of the giant black weave as it rushed in for another hit.

The explosive boom as the two weaves collided hurled Puomo through the air. Sparks rained down over the ground as the two huge Essence sources met in an uncontrolled release. All around her, she could hear the screams of both armies as the burning debris fell among their ranks. She saw the giant black weave whip through the air, then right itself as the weavers to the north struggled to regain control. Their own weave, looking even weaker now, was flailing around through the sky. Trying to gather herself, but unable to get back to her feet for some reason, she cried out, "Henil, we have to come up with some way to destroy that thing. We can't possibly overpower it directly."

Rushing over, Henil's eyes went wide as they fell on her. Then, he quickly knelt over her and looked her in the eye. "The only thing I can think to do is try to tangle it up near the base." He pointed north. "Maybe if we can pull some of its strength away at the source so it's not as strong at the end." He shrugged, and added, "I have no idea what will happen though."

Puomo nodded. "We have to try something. Gather the circle back together." She tried to rise again, but he gently held her against the ground.

"I'll bring them to you. Just wait here." He dashed off to gather the rest of the Weavers.

Puomo was relieved to rest for a moment, and again puzzled over why she couldn't seem to get up. A strange numbness was falling over her, but she had no time to figure out what was wrong as the black-robed circle formed around her.

Henil's voice rose above the commotion. "We're going to direct the weave towards the other's base. Push it out as far as you can, and maybe we can reach their hillside. The closer to the source we can get, the better chance this will work." He nodded down at her, and she closed her eyes to throw all of her attention into their weave.

The gleaming white weave sprung up again, gathering quickly from the individual strands of those around her. It shot off to the north, rushing over the ground below. She stretched it out as far as she could, willing it to reach the hill. The weave stretched out, growing longer and thinner, until it stopped, not quite reaching the base of the monstrous black weave. She cursed. It was near the hill, but still a good way off, and the other weave was rearing up again for another strike.

Puomo turned back to Henil. "That will have to be close enough. Now force it up as they strike and hope we can slow it down." The others in the circle were all watching her, and all wore looks of grim determination as she spoke. She held her breath and prepared herself.

The black weave began to rush towards the Barrier again, a giant serpent uncoiling to strike. As one, the circle hurled their own weave up into its thick base. Striking the surface in a shower of sparks, it wrapped around the other. A roar could be heard to the north, and a sudden wave of Essence shot back down their smaller weave. The smaller white weave rippled as it funnelled off some of the other's strength. The huge weave, rushing to slam the Barrier yet again, seemed to shrink on itself as it flew. Its width reduced as it weakened, but still it hurtled on.

Then, just as it seemed it would slow to a halt, the black weave kicked with a surge of power. With a crackling snap, the smaller weave broke off, a surge of pure Essence shooting back down its length. With a crash, the wave struck the ground where the Weaving Stone sat. Puomo was knocked across the ground and skidded to a halt with her face buried in the dirt.

Dazed, she struggled to raise her head. She stared bemusedly for a moment at the Barrier, still bearing spidery cracks all along its surface, yet intact. She rolled onto her back and gasped. The towering black weave still hovered in the air, pushing upward. It pulsed for a moment, seeming to her eyes to gather itself, then shot forward. With a deafening, ringing sound, it struck the Barrier directly in what remained of the crack they had been repairing.

Slowly, large cracks seemed to spread outward along its surface. Running out to join the other cracks in the surface, they spread as far as she could see in both directions. For a long moment, the world seemed to stop; then the Barrier, standing like a soldier who was too astounded to realize he had just been dealt a fatal wound, shattered into huge shards that fell to the ground with the force of a landslide. Puomo had just enough time to let out a last cry before a shower of debris blocked out the sun.

Choking dust and roiling black clouds made the entire battlefield as dark as night. Paendryl struggled to his feet and cast his eyes around anxiously. Close by, he saw the others groaning as they fought to stand. Cerivil still lay on the ground, with Udi bending over him. Wenvo swung around quickly, as if expecting an attack from all sides at once.

"What in the realm was that?" Paendryl asked no one in particular. Looking around, he saw nothing but thick dust that restricted his vision to only a few paces in any direction. Whatever it had been, it had stopped the battle for the time being. He heard nothing but groans and scrambling feet in the gloom around him. Apparently both sides had been hit equally by whatever had happened.

Udi looked up from Cerivil's side. "He seems to be alright. I have no idea what that was, but it won't be long before everyone recovers. Let's try to use this chance to get to safety."

Wenvo nodded and strode off, seeming to know exactly where he was going. Paendryl and Udi each took one of Cerivil's arms, helping him rise. They started off as quickly as they could, following Wenvo's lead.

They walked for a while, not encountering anyone else in the dust. Breathing was hard, and all of them choked and coughed as they moved. A wind began to blow, whipping the dust around, but helping to clear it as well. In a short while, the cloud had subsided enough to give a better view of the battlefield. Paendryl almost wished it hadn't.

They stood near the edge of where the main battle had taken place, not far from the Barrier. Or rather, not far from where the Barrier had been. Paendryl stared in horror as he realized that the enemy forces were gathered at the Barrier's base, moving past it and into the forest of Barovia. Speechless, he simply tugged on Wenvo's sleeve and pointed with his free arm. They all stood gaping at the impossible: the Barrier destroyed, and all manner of creatures pouring into the forest.

"What? But…where…?" Wenvo sputtered.

Udi shook his head ruefully. "It seems we have failed."

All around the Barrier site, Knights and Brothers were falling back into the forest, attempting to regroup. Both sides had left thousands littering the great battlefield, but the Horde still had them vastly outnumbered. Screams from the Knights to rally together echoed through the forest as they attempted to hold back the tide of creatures pouring through.

"We've got to try to help," Paendryl urged his companions. Wenvo seemed to snap back to attention and nodded vigorously. Cerivil managed a weak nod of his own. Udi seemed to be considering, then agreed and set out towards the forest. The small group shuffled along as fast as they could, half-carrying the wounded Knight.

Reaching the forest, they found themselves embroiled in chaos. Everywhere orcs and trolls fought Knights and Brothers is small knots. Every knot had more foe than friend, and Wenvo leaped into the closest battle. Leaning Cerivil against a nearby tree, he left Udi to guard him and joined the fight.

A brown-robed Brother stood fighting alongside two Knights. They faced three trolls and an orc, who were fanning out to surround them. Without hesitation, Wenvo fell on the closest troll, slashing its legs from behind. Paendryl rushed up to join him, and the troll fell bleeding to the ground. The other trolls turned to face them and charged screaming.

As soon as their foes' backs were turned, the two Knights leaped at the trolls, slashing away. The Brother slid to his left, catching the orc, who suddenly found itself alone, with a kick to the stomach. Swords flashing and feet flying, the small band finished the creatures and stopped, panting.

One of the Knights turned to rejoin them, when suddenly a crashing roar announced hundreds of creatures, orcs, trolls and more, charging towards the forest.

"We'd better fall back and find some others," the larger of the two Knights said. Quickly they began trotting south through the forest. Panedryl hurried to help Udi pull Cerivil to his feet, and they began shuffling off after the group.

Shortly, they reached a small clearing. Battered members of the Brotherhood and weary-looking Knights were gathered together, hastily trying to put up a line of defense. The howling around them was getting louder, mostly from the north, lending speed to their preparations.

Wenvo cursed, "Don't those things ever give up?"

"I don't think we can withstand them again," Udi said quietly. "But we will put up a fight before they can have our lands."

The others within earshot began muttering agreement, and grim looks painted the faces of the rag-tag army gathered in the clearing. Paendryl quickly estimated their numbers, and said a silent prayer as he realized that fully three quarters of those who had begun the day were lying strewn on the battlefield now. Yes, they would fight hard, but they would surely lose. He gripped his sword's hilt tightly as the sounds of the approaching monsters grew louder.

Just as the first orcs began breaking into the clearing, a piercing howl rose through the forest from the south. It was quickly picked up from all around, the entire forest seemingly coming to life with voices. In the gloom and shadow still blocking out the sun since the Barrier fell, hundreds of glowing eyes appeared without warning. All around the clearing, a low growling could be heard. The orcs had stopped their advance and stood looking around unsurely, then regained their nerve and surged forward again. As soon as they did, the forest exploded with movement.

All around them, snarling beasts seemed to leap out of everywhere at once. Flashing teeth and claws met the charge of the Horde with one of their own. Hideous wolves, bears, and giant cats slashed through the forest, and everywhere the screams of orcs mingled with howls and roars. The ragged army of Knights and Brothers, bewildered at first, regained their poise and rushed forward. Among the confusion, the charging orcs and trolls suddenly found themselves surrounded and outnumbered. In a panic, they rushed for an escape. The trampling of hooves and twisted legs tore up the forest floor as they sought to retreat.

Udi, still half-holding Cerivil on his feet, breathed quietly to himself. "The Children of Gaia, come to save us? Now I have surely seen everything."

"Well, whatever's going on, let's get out there while there's still something left," Wenvo bellowed, running towards the edge of the clearing. But before he could even make it into the trees, the sounds of battle died down. The last few screams rose into the air, then all was quiet. Those left in the clearing looked around, wondering what might be awaiting them among the trees. Battered Knights and weary Brothers straggled back into the clearing, dropping tiredly to the ground.

Bright eyes again appeared in the gloom, surrounding the clearing. Paendryl suddenly became aware of the presence of hundreds of creatures among the trees, just out of sight, and everywhere he looked he could feel them watching him. For a tense moment, the small cluster of those still remaining in the clearing gripped weapons and prepared to fight again. Then, on some unseen cue, the eyes withdrew back into the trees. As quickly as they had come, they were gone.

"Lathander truly does work in mysterious ways," Paendryl breathed, half to himself. "But it seems we will live to fight another day."

"Indeed we will," Cerivil managed weakly, "for even though the day is won, the Barrier no longer protects us. We will have plenty more battles to fight." He coughed and gingerly lowered himself to the ground.

Exhausted, but grateful to be alive, the survivors rested in the small clearing, giving thanks to the gods and praying for the strength the face the future. Paendryl hoped it would be a future worth praying for.

Slipping through the trees, Sten and Graf cautiously led the two Weavers as quietly as they could. Pausing behind a wide trunk, Graf gestured for Ejka and Te'Yor to follow. Stepping awkwardly over the brush and trying hard not to make any noise, the two stumbled to catch up without falling over. Just up ahead, Sten waved from behind another tree.

"They're just up ahead," Graf told Te'Yor, as the two joined him behind the tree. "It looks like it's safe to get closer, but be quiet."

"If we could use a simple stealth weaving, you'd see who was being the loud one," Ejka muttered.

Te'Yor nodded and sighed. "That would be as good as shouting we were here though. They'd all feel it when we got close."

"They are drawing enough of the Essence to be felt strongly even this far back," she retorted. "Surely we could take the chance to-"

Shaking his head and muttering, Graf gestured impatiently and darted up behind Sten, who was already making his way forward. The others had no choice but to follow.

The cluster of orcs stood at the top of a low hill, the dark-cloaked figure still directing them. Sten stopped at the edge of the tree cover, behind a broad oak. Graf and the two Weavers joined him there, not making too much noise in the underbrush. Still, Sten waved them to silence as soon as they arrived. After peeking around to be sure they were not discovered, he turned back to them.

"There's no more cover to get us closer," he said quietly. "I'm not sure what's going on, but they seem pretty intent on something. Can one of you tell?"

Ejka poked her head around the tree and caught her breath in a sharp hiss. She pulled Te'Yor's sleeve, who followed her gaze up the hill and gasped. They both ducked their head back behind the tree.

"They seem to be-" Te'Yor began, when a tremor shook the ground, bouncing them off the ground slightly. Sten and Graf both looked at the two Weavers anxiously as the ground stopped shaking.

Ejka's eyes shone from beneath her hood. "They are trying to batter down the Barrier. I don't know how they managed, but they are holding far more Essence than they should be able to. There's a very real chance they could succeed."

Another distant boom sounded and the ground shook again, as if emphasizing her point. Graf looked at each in turn, then threw up his hands. "Don't just sit there, do something!" he exclaimed.

Another boom rattled the earth. "What would you have us do?" Ejka hissed. "The two of us alone are not powerful enough to stop them ourselves. Only the others using the Weaving Stone could hope to match that kind of power."

Graf growled in exasperation. "We have to try something. Just make up some kind of zapping rod or something and we'll go after them." He flexed his arms. "We did pretty well before."

"Yes, but the amount of Essence they are using now is overwhelming," Te'Yor replied. "They would only have to aim a sliver of it at you to destroy you both." Another boom shook the ground. "For that matter, anything we tried to throw at them would only succeed in giving ourselves away. They'd be likely just to obliterate this whole grove with us in it."

Just then, a giant crackling sound exploded through the air, knocking them all to the ground. Shaking her head groggily, Ejka sat up and stared in astonishment. A smaller, white chord of Essence, emanating from the south, had wrapped itself to the gigantic weave the orcs had created. Sparks of fire dropped from the sky where the two met high in the air, not far to the south. Then, a wave of Essence ripped free, tearing the two tangled weaves apart and causing another jarring tremor to knock her back down. Scrambling to her feet, she looked up the hill.

The dark-clad figure stood, surrounded by the weaving orcs. All were glowing with an intense light, pulsing as their individual threads of Essence fed into the giant black weave above them. The smaller white weave was nowhere to be seen. She noticed that the orcs didn't seem to be moving at all, then realized suddenly that they were being drained completely. Dry, cracked skin shrunk on itself around their faces, expressions frozen in pain. The robed figure in their midst paid no attention as the huge tower of Essence pulled the life from his minions. The dry husks of what remained of the violet-robed orcs collapsed into dust around him. After the last body fell, he gave a triumphant cry, raising his hands above his head as he directed the incredible storm of power above him. He threw his hands in a swift gesture to the south, and the black weave shot off through the sky.

Ejka looked around for the others, and just had time to locate them crouching behind the trees for cover when a deafening explosion roared from the south. The force of the blast hurled her though the air, and it seemed to take ages before she crashed back to the ground in a painful heap.

Some time passed before Ejka even attempted to move. How long, she did not know, but slowly the feeling returned to her limbs. She risked raising her head a fraction, and grimaced as pain shot through her. Grunting, she managed to roll over and found herself covered in debris. To her left, a huge tree had fallen, landing nearly on top of her. Struggling to free her arms from the rubble, she finally clawed her way to a sitting position with her back against the tree. Laying her head back, she panted slightly, fighting back the pain in her head.

She raised her head again, and froze. Directly in front of her, a mere twenty paces or so off, a piece of dark cloth fluttered against a tree. Straining to focus her eyes, she saw that the figure from the hilltop lay face down and unmoving at the base of a tall oak. Pulling herself up against the tree behind her, Ejka fought to her feet. Pain assailed her entire body, but she forced herself to ignore it and stumbled ahead to stand above the motionless figure.

Wearily drawing as much Essence as she could manage, she rasped, "At least you will pay for your deeds." A ball of energy formed in her hands.

Suddenly, the figure rolled over, small darts of energy flying from his fingers. With a startled gasp, Ejka released the ball towards him as the tiny needles struck her. Her aim knocked off, the ball crashed into her target's side, knocking him over but inflicting most of its damage on the tree behind him.

A flutter of his robe accompanied the figure as he stumbled behind a nearby tree. Shuffling after him, Ejka barely heard a shout behind her as Sten rushed to help. Preparing to fling a damaging weave, she darted around the tree after him, only to run directly into a solid wall of Essence. Knocked backward, she fell on the ground. Immediately, rough hands hauled her to her feet. Grasped from behind around the throat, she felt a sharp tingle along her spine. He held a weave directly at the base of her skull, aimed to kill in an instant.

Sten slid to a halt, facing Ejka and the dark-robed figure clutching her from behind. Graf and Te'Yor came running up, stopping just behind him. "Come no closer," the figure hissed, "or there will be nothing you can do to save her." Shaking Ejka roughly, he backed away a few steps, dragging her along.

"Just kill us both," Ejka rasped through the choking grip. "You cannot allow him to escape."

Sten glanced back at Te'Yor, who shook his head. "There's no way I could hit him without killing them both." Graf hissed in frustration.

"We will be going now," the figure said, as a gateway opened behind him. "Do not attempt to follow." Through the gateway, dark, jagged rocks could be seen as he backed up to it.

"If you will not act, then I will!" Ejka shouted, twisting suddenly in his grip and grasping his waist with both hands. She ducked as she spun, just clearing the deadly weave as it flung from his hands, singing her hooded robe. Stumbling backwards, the figure fell towards the gateway as it wavered and shimmered. Different landscapes slid by on the other side, blurring too quickly to make out. Sten leaped forward as they stumbled half into the hovering doorway. With a last cry, Ejka yanked the figure off his feet, and they both tumbled inside. Immediately, the gateway closed around them, winking out of existence.

Pulling up where the gateway had been, Sten spun around. "Te'Yor, open another one. Quickly, maybe we can still catch them!"

Te'Yor stood shaking his head sadly. "I wish I could, but…a gateway requires a great deal of concentration. One that is wavering like that has no solid link to the other side. There's no way of telling where they came out. If they came out at all." He dropped his gaze to the ground.

Stunned, Sten sputtered, then closed his mouth. Graf shook his head next to Te'Yor, and none of them spoke for a long while.

"She did what she had to do," Graf said quietly. "If the gods are merciful, that will be enough to see her through safely."

Te'Yor nodded soberly. "I guess we need to get back to the others. They may need our help." He opened a gateway next to him. Silently, the two Brothers filed through, and, with a last look at the spot where Ejka had vanished, Te'Yor followed.

Puomo groggily opened her eyes and immediately shut them against the bright light. Raising her hand to her head, she sat up slightly and opened her eyes just a slit this time. She realized she was lying in a bed, covered with a blanket. A blurry shape moved over to stand in front of her.

"How are you feeling?" A familiar voice asked.

"A bit like I've been trampled by a stampede, Henil," She answered, forcing her eyes open. He stood next to the bed, her bed, in the Black Tower. A bowl with some broth and a glass of water sat on a stand nearby. He was the only one in the room, looking rather rumpled in his dark robe. She sank back down against the pillow and let out a long breath. "What happened? I remember the Barrier falling, then everything else is a blur."

"Yes, well…" he hesitated, "we were all dispersed after that. It took hours to find everyone again. When we finally reached you under a mound of stone, we had nearly given up hope of ever discovering you alive."

"Lucky for me, you're too stubborn to give up," Puomo chuckled.

Henil smiled. "Also lucky for you there were so many Tenders around that day. They got to you just in time. You were quite badly crushed…I'm still amazed at what their healing can do. As it is, they said you'll be limping for the rest of your days. It's actually quite remarkable you still have both your legs."

Lifting the blanket, Puomo examined herself from the waist down. Her left leg bore a large, pink scar up the outside along nearly its entire length. She felt no pain, but as she tried to move it, she discovered it responded stiffly.

Frowning, she lifted her head. "Wait a second, you said 'that day'. How long have I been unconscious?"

"It's been almost five days now," he replied, and she caught her breath. "As I said, you are lucky to be alive. They weren't sure you'd wake at all."

"Five days?" she echoed. "What…? But….how…? What has happened since then?"

Henil drew in a deep breath. "After the Barrier fell, the Horde forces seemed ready to overwhelm the rest of the army. They tell me they would have lost, but the Children of Gaia assisted them."

Puomo looked astonished. "Them? Why would they help?"

Henil just shrugged. "Why do they do anything? At least they chose a good time for it. After the battle, we started picking through the remains. It took almost a day to find everyone who was still alive, you included. Te'Yor returned while we were searching for survivors. He and Sten and Graf told how they had run into the Horde leader, apparently the one who directed the strike on the Barrier. They were able to fight him off, but Ejka was lost in the struggle."

Puomo shook her head. "She was one of our best. Dead? I thought she'd outlive both of us. She certainly seemed stubborn enough to."

"Maybe not dead. She and the Horde leader fell into an unstable gateway. There's no telling what happened to them."

Puomo sighed deeply. "A great many casualties then? I guess without the Barrier the fighting has continued. How do we stand?" Her eyes seemed to pierce into him, as if to bore the answers out of his head.

"We lost five, including Ejka, that day. The Knights and Brotherhood lost hundreds, if not thousands. They have spread out as much as possible in the past few days, along the northern borders, to discourage more attacks. So far, all has been relatively quiet, as if they aren't quite sure whether the Barrier's really gone. They'll grow more bold though, of that we can be sure." Henil face tightened with grim determination. "The Knights have set up a new outpost in Barovia, to try to scare off more attacks. It seems that that town will live again. There have been no signs of the Children, so who knows what those beasts are up to. Maybe they're just as unsure of what to do as we are."

"Maybe," Puomo mused. "What of the Weaving Stone?"

"Gone. Destroyed most likely. A lot of Essence fell back into it when the Barrier was destroyed. We searched for days and found no sign of it." Henil winced slightly.

Puomo cursed under her breath. "All that effort for nothing. It seems the world has decided to change, and we will have to adapt. We should talk with the First Brothers and the Knight's Circle, see what we can come up with to defend ourselves. It's obvious we need to come out of our isolation if we want to survive. We'll have to come up with some kind of bargain to make sure we protect ourselves."

Henil paced back to his chair and sat down wearily. He ran his hands through his brown hair and slumped back. Puomo swung her feet over the side of the bed and rose gingerly, testing her injured leg as she half stood. Wincing, she sat back down on the bed and clasped her hands in front of her.

"It looks like we all have some recovering to do. It is impossible to say what the future holds, but we will face it squarely, as we always have. Right Henil?"

Henil nodded quietly from his chair. Puomo turned her gaze to the tall, narrow window overlooking the forest. All around the tower, dark trees concealed the ground. A strong wind blew thick clouds across the sky, obscuring the sun that stood close to the horizon. Abruptly, Puomo realized she had no idea what time of day it was. Is the sun rising, or setting? she mused to herself. I hope it is rising.

And so it was that the world had changed, as it had before, and as it would again. The creatures of nightmare, forgotten by most, made their way into the people's lives again. That is how we returned to the world of struggle, the only world you have ever known. But before you begin to long for the old times, repealing those daily struggles for life and peace that we now face, know that every change brings its own rewards, and this is no exception. We are stronger than we have ever been, born of fire and forged into unyielding steel. We must remain so, ever vigilant, beating back the darkness. And we must never relax, never let down our guard, and never forget to enjoy the moments we can. That is the lesson of our beginnings.

Of course, much has happened since, and I could recite many more such tales, until you thought me a liar, or a madman, or both. But then, when I was young, I would have been called mad to have made such an obvious statement as to declare that the sun stands in the sky even at midnight.

But how that came to be is another story altogether.