The distant booming of
thunder still echoed throughout the glistening treetops and across the
waterlogged plains that rested just south of the Red Forest as the great mother
continued to hurl her pent up fury upon the Isles of Myst in the year of
334.
To the west, the
queen�s consort, the capricious and often unforgiving sea of Valiant, swarmed
chaotically in the form of a malevolent maelstrom, swirling and smashing against
the rocky coastline of the Isles in a voracious bombardment. The deafening
pounding of the great sea�s waves were unending, their sounds sent rippling
miles inland to in stoke fear and panic among the inhabitants of the Isles in
the wake of the great mother�s passing.
To the east, the great
mother�s black-armored legions marched unimpeded across the darkened skyline,
hurling crystalline darts upon the unprotected countryside in a relentless
barrage for conquest. This night the queen would rule all of the Isles, casting
her anger over all that stood defiantly in her path. Powerful and terrifying
rumblings showered upon the Isles while her great army reveled in delight
amongst the darkness of the night as it rolled towards the eastern coastline
like an unbeatable war machine� an unstoppable juggernaut that even the greatest
of warriors could not slay.
Yet even as the great
mother�s grip remained firm and strong upon the western half of the Isles, her
fury gradually began to subside throughout her conquered lands as she directed
her might towards the eastern parts that still offered resistance. The strikingly painful projectiles that
once plummeted like piercing arrows from her blackened and gray minions had
started to let up. No longer did the icy raindrops that came with the beginnings
of winter fall ferociously upon the land, but in their place, a light drizzle
settled wickedly as a reminder to all who dared to cross nature�s
path.
From just within the
borderline of the soaked and dripping foliage of the Red Forest, darkened
shadows lurked patiently in wait for the Queen�s wraith to dissipate fully. The
drippings of the chilled liquid still rolled down the multi-colored leaves of
the majestic oak and maple trees, falling upon the wet underbrush and the
patiently waiting predators that settled below within the forested
domain.
Short, quiet breathes
trickled from firm, unwavering lips of those beings that sat within the cold and
moistened land. The hair that lined their heads, the light silken clothes that
clung to their sculpted bodies, and the leather-padded boots that bound their
feet were all deeply saturated with the chilled rainwater that had fallen during
the great mother�s tirade. A biting and tart air nipped at the exposed skin of
the arms and necks of these men almost as badly as the cold metal of the chained
armor that adorned each and every one of their chests and
shoulders.
Needless to say, the
conditions were less than amicable this night, and might have been a cause for
grumbling and cursing among those that were unfortunate enough to be caught
among them, yet not a single word was uttered by any of the men that resided
within the forest. Trained against the most brutal and trying of conditions and
situations, the men that consisted of the Kil`reas would allow nothing to
distract them from their objective. Even as the black and green paint that
covered their faces began to drip down their foreheads and into their eyes,
stinging them painfully; the Kil`reas would not blink or try to rub away the
pain.
This night, every pair
of almond shaped eyes that belonged to this group of nineteen men focused upon
the land outside of the forested borders. Although the darkness of night
combined with the blackness of the great mother�s storm to form a murky and
obnoxious atmosphere, the outlines and impressions of the recently established
human settlement of Larmian were visible to each and every member of the elite
fighting force. The gift of infrasion had proven to be quite useful.
Soon the cover of the
storm would break, and with it the armed warriors would slip from their forested
lair and descend upon the settlement under the cover of darkness. The movements
of these men would be unheard throughout their entire trek; so silent were the
Kil`reas that even the denizens of the forest had often found it difficult to
hear their passings through the forest�s underbrush. The settlement and its
inhabitants would be caught unaware; retribution would come tenfold for the
slaughter at Telin�ril, the elven settlement and outpost just north of
Brookeshire. But still the time had not come to advance, the twentieth member of
the group still had not returned from his sweep about the settlement. Many grew
impatient, yet such emotions were not found upon the stoic features that peered
out through the foliage onto Larmian with hidden contempt and
hatred.
