Introduction

Introduction

The Captain on the far left of the line looked over his right shoulder, back to the west. Scanning the distance he could just make out the city of Evergold, the lofty Tower of Eons clearly silhouetted on the horizon. Over there the sun was shining out the last of it's afternoon light, here the rain had been lightly dusting their armour for well over an hour now. He lined himself up with the other twenty two guards and turned to contend with the enemy while his face grew sterner. A band of Elves, fifty, maybe more, were gathering on the brow of the small hill that separated them from the Misty Grove. The small forest let a wispy haze of evening fog drift out slowly. The Elves were forming up into a line that loosely resembled their own, only longer, and deeper. On top of the hill there was more Elves clad in green-brown hide armour, brandishing more bows and holding more swords than he wanted to count. He sighed, and looked at his own men. They all resembled a similar state to him, tired from travelling yesterday and attempting to turn their ramshackle camp into a defensible position with which they hadn't been very successful at. A few wet logs hastily chopped out of the grove earlier, lined the base of the hill, but that was all. It left their flank exposed, and with every man standing at the front line, the whole camp practically cried out for an ambush. Luckily, so it seemed, the arrogant elves decided to take them head on, either that or they had very poor scouting, which The Captain knew was unlikely.

The biting cold autumn air came straight over the top of the hill. The wind carrying the brisk shouts of the Elven Commander towards them. The cries could be heard all the way to the back of the camp quite clearly. Not that the men down there could understand any of it, but from the tone it sounded like they were readying themselves to attack as quickly as they were able.

“Unusual...”

Puzzled The Captain quietly,

“For them to be in such a hurry, The Elves must be uneasy.”

He had no idea why, they clearly outnumbered them at least two to one and were probably better trained and equipped, since most of the guards here were only the forward scouting party. The Captain noticed one of his men sharply turn his head, looking behind them. At the same time he saw that The Elves he was keenly watching, were also raising their heads and looking in the same direction, above and behind him. He followed their gaze, to the west. A burning star was very low on the horizon, the first of the evening, as it was too early yet to be called night time.

He wondered why it was drawing everyone's attention, until he peered towards it a little more. It was growing, or perhaps getting closer, he couldn't be sure. Looking to his front and the hill, checking it wasn't some ploy, all he could hear was the whipping of the wind. All of the Elves were just as entranced as his own men. He turned fully round, his back to the enemy, something he was taught never to do, and leaned forwards shielding his eyes with his hand. Glaring at the star, which had now become a small sun, it looked like it was getting closer.

A whistle of an arrow suddenly skimmed past his ear, the Elves had opened fire. Taking a deep breath he spun around and yelled,

“Form up!”

Shouting life into his men, they all followed suit, turning and bringing their round shields, which bore a thin golden tower, to their front. Several arrows more were blocked, while the rest flew over their heads. The wind acting in their favour at first, however, the next volley would definitely hurt. The rear Elves redrew their bows, while the front line drew their swords. The Captain heard the Elven Commander shout something in Elvish to the swordsmen. It was quickly answered by a screaming cry from the soldiers as they charged down the hill, underneath another volley of shining arrows. This time however The Captain did not hear the stream of arrows, only a low roaring, which he only now realised had been building for some time, resembling waves that crashed against the Crumbling Coast. The new sound began picking up. The roar speedily grew till it shook the wet ground, even drowning out the cries of the advancing soldiers. As the ground shook the noise began building into a deafening thunder that could not be ignored. The Scouts again raised their shields, hoping to block at least some of the oncoming Elven assault. The Captain flashing a glance over his shoulder. The small sun turned into a fireball, a hundred feet behind them, approaching fast. He opened his mouth to shout something, a warning, anything... then it hit.

No crater, no explosion, more like a sharp clap of thunder as the fire vanished, leaving a vaguely circular scorch on the ground the size of a small tent. Inside of which knelt a young woman in a small suit of dark red, leather armour. Sharply embroidered onto her left shoulder was the symbol of the golden tower, the size no bigger than a fist. A cry echoing from his right making The Captain spin back around in alarm. His line now three men shorter from the second volley of arrows.

The Elves closing swiftly down the hill, swords raised their eager sounding shouts betrayed by their hesitant footing and a pace that was not as fast as it should have been.

They were right to be nervous. The young woman that stood, now only a few paces behind the scouting party was a Mage of the Tower. If just an apprentice, she would still be capable of a frightening display of power if she was fully charged. She leaned backwards, threw her arms up into the air and thrust them forwards with force. At the same time her eyes lit up with a deep red glow, and the veins in her legs and arms mimicking the light, just as brightly. Fire broke forth from her fingertips like a torrent of water. Shooting only a few inches above the Scout's helms in front of her. Swerving around of its own accord, it carpeted the ground between the two forces with a river of molten lava. It continued to spew around the entire camp the Scouts defended in a wide oval shape until they were all fully surrounded.

The Elves abruptly stopped their charge. Coming to a sliding, skidding halt in the mud and narrowly missing the edge of the new gulf between them. The rain spat, hissing and steaming as it struck the fire. The archers meanwhile drew another volley and held at the ready. Given the command, they let it fly. The Captain yelling out to the remaining men.

“Shields...”

Although they had not lowered them from before, there was little else he could do. Several dull metal clunks sounded accompanied by a whistle, and a single grunt. The man next to him, Scout Pearson took a hit in the leg, but everyone else looked unhurt.

“Anything else you could do Miss would be appreciated.”
The Captain called out over his shoulder. However when he turned to the woman behind him she was slumped on her knees, out of breath and looking exhausted. He let out a frustrated sigh. Not with her, she had turned up just in time to save them, but with himself. Despite his tactical training, he could not see a way out of this that would end favourably for him, or his men. The sword wielding elves stood at the edge of the fire, unsure of how to proceed. Should they wait to see if it faded, maybe try to find another way around, or as most had opted for, finding small stones on the ground to throw and jeer at the scouts with. However the Elven Commander, looking just as frustrated as The Captain, yelled to his troops. The swordsmen slowly stopped jeering, and with snide looks on their faces steadily backed up the hill. The archers withdrew their bows and replaced their arrows retreating over the crest of the hill and out of sight, followed shortly by the swordsmen.

As the last Elf vanished out of sight there was a collective sigh of relief from all of the remaining scouts. All except Pearson who exclaimed and let out another grunt as he shuddered and sat down with a thud, grunting again as he hit the grass. The Captain motioning to the three other men on the ground, Smithy, Billy and Dean. The scouts jumping to them, hoping that they may still be saved, although none were making any sounds of hope. The Captain turning to the young lady who was crouching on the ground. Going down on one knee to get to her eye level he asked her

“Are you all right Miss?”

Unsure if he was hoping for a response or not he waited for several breaths. Her gaze ahead into the distance, looking through the man in front of her gave the only reply. Short and spiky cherry-red hair wafted in the breeze on top her head. Snapping back to reality and looking at The Captain, she nodded, it was just about all she could muster.

“Hmm...” Said The Captain , thinking out loud.

“Let's get you sat down then shall we?”

Musing as he half-helped, half-carried her to his command tent a while away from the front of the camp. Parting the flaps of his tent he ushered her inside before gently dropping her into one of four fold out chairs that were set around the central table. The tent was dank and as wet as outside, but somewhat lighter, thanks to the rusty oil lamps that sat on the outer two tables, diligently flicking. The Captain laid down his sword and shield next to one of the lamps and stood across from her to draw attention to the maps and charts that littered table. Taking a deep breath he stated.
“The situation outside appears to be stable now thanks to your intervention. The Elves have left back into their position inside the forest. I don't know what would of happened if you hadn't arrived when you did but I don't think it would've been good.” Leaning over the table he looked at a specific point on what she recognised was a map of their position, and the area around the grove.

“Perfect timing on that by the way,” He said letting a wry smile slip out.

She smiled back, feeling a little more rested now. Stirring and replying
“That's why I was sent Captain, to oversee your scouts. I am Apprentice Nessa.” Rising to her feet, she looked as tired as The Captain felt, and offered her hand in a formal greeting. The Captain briskly shook her hand, which he was surprised to find was almost as rough and firm as his own.
“Captain Adams” He said bowing slightly and smiling.

“Right then Miss Nessa, let's get you up to speed on the point of interest and the reason we are all here.”