Its the end of the Third Era. The Civil War in the southern lands of the Dunmeck Kingdom has escalated to full out war of the entire lands. What was thought to be merely a couple of strange bandit raids in the forest has been relieved to be the sec...
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When his eyes shot open he found the fluttering sparkle of stars fade and brighten with the power of the plain's wind. To add he also began to pick up the calm chirp of the insects nearby just breaking their cries over the sea of air whistling a tune to his sensitive ears. "What time is it?" He shuttered his quiet words off, arms managing to pull him up to peer over the in cave of hills and the near dead wash of the stream.
"I see I'm not the only one who can't sleep." Jobleir's bright voice sent him to his feet in a second's worth of shock, him turning to see the boy's outline in the darkness.
"More I was suddenly waken." Kelnmock assured him, coming to sit beside him, "Some dream or something, I don't know."
"Well regardless we're both up now." The kid shrugged, turning his attention to a large cluster of blue and gold star formations in the west.
"What of Kyplore? Isn't he suppose to keep an eye out for any approaching enemies?" He thought of the man's offer just before heading to sleep, not able to find the outline in the night.
"He's over there by the stream, been in the same position for hours." Jobleir pointed over to what now revealed to be Kyplore standing stiff in the breath of the atmosphere as his cloak flapped about.
"He isn't dead is he?" Kelnmock had to wonder, for even in there forces most likely reaching the man, he remained as so.
"I don't think so," Jobleir shifted his whole body to face the statue, "I'm really not sure what's with him..."
Kelnmock sighed, leaning over his knees with his hands together and fixing his gaze on the black soils, "Well at least nothing's popped up while we were asleep."
"So it's you two that's been smacking their lips?" Lician's common chuckled climbed up beside them, his robes reflecting the action of Kyplore's cloak. "Can't sleep then?"
Jobleir would have appeared to roll his eyes if not for the dark, "Not really."
"Just thought I might join the party." He again let free a shortened laugh. "So what's with mister stone over there?" He then moved to stare at the creak bed.
"No clue. We were just debating whether he's still alive or not." Kelnmock shrugged. "So what kept you from sleeping?"
"I'm a mage, we more meditate at night, something I picked up my first years at the college." Lician seemed to be smiling under the shade of dark, but with the time and his tightly rapped cloth none could truly tell. "It's said to help us concentrate when the moments are at hand. But I don't know, I just kind of got in the habit."
"That's right you were an apprentice at that massive tower just beside the Woods of Doblemeir," Jobleir took more interest with an almost sort of passion, "I've always wished to visit the grounds," he scratched his lose hair, "Unfortunately I never had the talent in the arts of magic, being human and all."
"A very saddening flaw in your kind, the absence of magic." Lician straightened his slight slouch, "But you never know, Perhaps after this chaos is all said and done I could take you to visit."
"That would be nice, if we even make it out of this mess." Jobleir grew more doubtful and down with the passing of time, "I guess we're all just lucky to be alive now as it is..." he trailed.
The roar that followed pounded the air like that of a flaming wind exploding from battle, the remaining men that rested leaping to their feet. "What the hell was that!?" Orglien shuttered his skin.
"Hurry we must get out of here." Kyplore nearly caused another stir, especially to those who had saw his stiffened, when he rushed in toward the group and finger directed to a red dim glow to the south.
"Why didn't anyone spot them sooner?" Feinrock blunted out while looking back to the light, "Kyplore, are they truly this adapted to the shadows that you missed sight of them?"
"It would appear as so." His response could hardly be pick up, "Now please, keep silent." He added, them all now dashing away with what evidence they created.
"I smell something!" The darkened elf like beast approached the camp sight, nothing of significance hitting its eyes.
"I sense it too..." another beside it search the grounds, throwing about the logs and rocks of the water.
"What would fleshlings be doing this far in?"
"Perhaps some wonders from the towns that escaped the Shadow's meal..." they debated off and on until five others appeared behind.
"What's going in here?" The head, a brutish Orchine, shouted.
"Fleshlings sir, not long from here..."
"Any sign of where they were headed?" It barked back, rotten and hanging armor of bone and skin dull in the dance of torch light.
"Hard to tell." The two sniffed the cool morning breeze. "This wind is making it to difficult." It concluded.
"The Dark Hounds then?" One of the heavily armored beasts beside the Orchine wondered.
It was at that instant a high intense whistle punctured the air, all in its wake shivering with the feel as though a needle scratched the spine of each individual.
"What in the blazed blue star was that?" Feinrock nearly stopped at a sudden strange pitch that riddled his mind, the others having to go as far as to hold down their ears.
"Hurry!" Balphamire too seemed shocked, fear driven in haste as they all tripled in speed. Kelnmock managed to peek back in the rush, seeing to the southern horizon dark blurs like clouds, red eyes, screeching toward them.
"Are those hounds?" He asked with his shortness of breath, some looking back to observe what he had.
"I don't know what those are but it doesn't look good!" Orglien puffed, them all rushing to a sharp left, one stumbling slightly upon a rock.
"Snuff them out! Kill what you find!" They heard the horrid cry of one of the monsters. And to add to the fear they began to pick up the massive tower of grey and a glow of a range meant of oranges coming over a hill.
"This way," Kyplore surprisingly directed himself to the flames.
"Are you mad?" Feinrock bursted, his belt slamming upon his sword's hilt at a constant pattern.
"The smoke might mess with those things senses, come on!" He quickly explained, them all having no time for argument and their path charged to the burnt line of homes. Although, when reaching the source, the sudden shock of its true massiveness was slammed to there eyes; added to it the flashes of yet more monsters dashing the streets and blades dripping with a red that puddled the floor of the numerous dead--screams of absolute terror echoing the landscape.
"Shit..." Balphamire mumbled right before they all were pulled into the nearest corner, Kyplore holding the tongue of Kelnmock as from out of the darkness the slowed searching paws of the creatures which pursued them flashed into view, a black leash extending to the claws of its crooked owner.
