I found it!

[YanYanGanaffi]

Moonlight streamed through the evening mists as swords flashed and screams were silenced by the violence of battle. Sarie Ganaffi, along with her syblings Yan Yan, Boslio, and Juna, attempted to route the Usia mercenaries hired by the vile Lord Koriki. Red eyes gleamed in the night, surrounding the brave warriors.

 

Sarie, with a leaf-bladed short spear, drove the crysteline blade deep between the joint in the armor of one reptilain warrior, then kicked the creature in the chest as she removed the weapon from it's gut. Spinning swiftly, she turned to another attacker, jabbing the opponent twice in the chest with the spear before he know he'd been hit.

 

Yan Yan fired a quick volley of shatter bolts into the approaching horde, felling several of the rushers. One broke through, swinging a wicked looking short sword, and closed in on Yan Yan. Drawing back for momentum, Yan Yan brought up the butt of his crossbow to the orc's jaw, jerking the monster's head back as he collapsed onto his back. Bringing up his leg, Yan Yan ended the orc's life with a heel stomp to his head.

 

Juna parried repeated attacks from a large orge swinging a good sized tree branch. She ducked a wide swing from the drooling beast, unleasting a fury of jabs with her daggers, punchering the ogre's unprotected stomach. The creature teetered to the left, landing in a quivering heap. Juna planted a knee in the upper back of him as she drove the daggers home into the back of the orge's neck.

 

Boslio was rushed by three goblin warriors, spear's set at a charge. Boslio strifed right to aviod the incoming attackers. With his short sword, he parried the closest spear to him, successfully dearming his opponent. The goblin was swiflty run though, vainly clasping it's hands to it's chest in an effort to fend off it's oncoming demise. Out of the corner of his eye, Boslio saw one of the goblins throw his spear at him. Dropping suddenly, the spear flew over him and into Sarie's back. She stumbled forward, dropping her spear. Going to her knees, she tried to gather her breath, but couldn't. Fright entered her mind as she realized where she'd been hit; the spear had pierced one of her lungs.

 

Juna screamed Sarie's name and ran to her aid. Boslio and Yan Yan fought off the remaining mercenaries, who broke off the assualt in tatters. Yan Yan chambers another feeder box of shatter bolts, covering his brother and sister as they worked to save Sarie's life. Juna removed the spear as Boslio removed Sarie's armor. her breathing was very labored, blood seeping from the wound in her back. Taking out a waterskin, they cleaned the blood and grime from the gash. Boslio took a small bag containing fire algae, a powerful antiseptic. He put a small piece in his mouth, chewing it into a soft gum. The heat from the algae brought tears to Boslio's eyes due to the acid in the plant's cells reacting with the moisture in his mouth. Spitting out the chewwed mass into his hand, he placed it onto the wound. Sarie howled in pain, arching her back in reaction to the burning of the gum. She settled down as the algae numbed the pain in her back. A calming, sleepy feeling entered as the narcotic effects of the plant took hold. The last thing she remembered was the sensation of being lifted into the air by an unseen force before she passed out.

 

A week later, Sarie awake in her bed, too sore to get up, though she tried twice. Her mother, Axia, was sitting by her bed. "Sarie," She cautioned," You need your rest." Axia gave Sarie a wooden cup filled with white willow bark tea to ease her pain. "You're lucky to be alive."

 

"Where are the other's," Sarie asked.

 

Axia smiled,"Down in the Summer Camp on the river. Yan Yan just left here with a message to General Gath."

 

"They're alright?"

 

"Yes, my dear," her mother informed her," They are fine. Get soon rest, please."

 

Sarie nodded. This was the closest she'd been to death. Rest was needed for her to heal. Quietly, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of pleasentries far away from the waking world...

 

 

 

 

Yan Yan Ganaffi expertly paddled the canoe down the foaming rapids of the Nistashi River while dodging rocks that barely jutted out of the icy water. The thin copperwood walls of the canoe occasionally scraped a rock, leaving small gashes in the craft's exterior. His black leather armor was soaked repeatedly as lashes of water struck him with fury. Despite the tranquil backdrop of mountain forests and azure sky, Yan Yan couldn't enjoy it as he struggled with the violent river.

 

Yan Yan was a combat messenger for the Red Wolf Clan. The insignia of the clan; a red wolf's paw print on a black background, was the only color on his armor. His mission was simple; get the clan's marching orders to Gath Murlo, acting general of the Red Wolf's warriors. Yan Yan hoped that some day he would also join the rest of his syblings. At least he was allowed to carry weapons of his choosing from the armory. The repeating crank-action crossbow had been his older sister Juna's at the Battle of the Tines, when the Cloven Ones rebelled against a nieghboring regent.

 

Yan Yan's attention was focused back to the river, which had calmed much. He let the river carry the canoe with the current , gently guilding it to keep from running aground. Two hours later, he was pulling the canoe onto the bank with the help of his brother, Boslio. "How was the trip," inquired Boslio.

 

"Wet, cold, and far too long," answered Yan Yan,"Where's Gath?"

 

"War council," the older brother replied," You scratched my canoe to hell and back."

 

"Don't thank me, thank the rocks," Yan Yan retorted as he pulled out am oilskin pouch," I need to get this to Gath."

 

Boslio took the oilskin and tucked it into a pocket fold in his armor. "I'll give it to him," he ordered Yan Yan," Go warm up and get some soup in you. Juna's at the Feast Hall."

 

Yan Yan nodded as he walked toward the Feast Hall. He looked around at the cluster of wooden buildings and the bustle of warriors going about daily chores. The smell of roasting beef filled his nostrals, making his mouth water. He approached the doorway and pulled back the heavy wooven curtian. The hall had several long rough cut tables and chairs. A light smokey haze gave the place an almost sleepy feel. He saw his sister at the far corner of the room enjoying a slice of roasted pig. Yan Yan got a bowl of soup and warm cider from the chief cook before he took a seat across from his sister. He smiled, enjoying his meal. Tradition in their family dictated silence during meals, as it was seen as vulger to eat and converse at the same time. When they had both finished eating, Juna spoke first.

 

"How was the trip?"

 

Yan Yan, wiping his mouth with a piece of cloth, answered," I scratched up Boslio's canoe. Aside from that, not bad."

 

"Yeah," his sister commented," I made the trip once in the winter. the water was really low and beat my boat to bits. I had to wade to shore and walk the rest of the way. I was half way frozen by the time I made it here. Mother was furious when I told her about the boat."

 

"Wasn't it Father's before he was killed at Sulnac?"

 

Juna nodded,"Yes. He'd built it himself. It was one of the only things that he had made. Mother treasured it. However, Father's boat wasn't as solidly made as we had hoped."

 

"Father was a soldier, not a scout," Yan Yan reminded.

 

"And a damned good one," she pointed at Yan Yan to stress her words," So was Mother."

 

Yan Yan was about to comment when Gath entered the room. His tall, gaunt figure scanned the room then he announced," Gather your things, we are readying for war."

 

 

 

 

The caravan of war wagons rumbled along at a steady pace toward the Golden Fields of Scolf. Yan Yan and his siblings shared driving duties while the others slept or readied their gear. The letter Yan Yan had delievered were a set of reports detailing a massing of troops on the border of Scolf. Rumor presisted that the leader of the unknown force was one of the Cloven Ones; an evil group of warrior priests that gave their spirits over to the dark god Jessari. Through vile magic, the Dark God transformed the priest's feet into cloven hooves to forever mark their alliegence to him. To further their sinister appearence, they often took animal like forms to unnerve their followers and enemies alike. Fear, they believed, was a powerful weapon for control and conquest.

 

Boslio arched his back trying to get into a more comfortible position. Riding in the back of the wagon on wore animal hide mats while adjusting gear with two other people trying to sleep or do the same as you was cramped at best. Juna and Yan Yan had a small fire going in the middle of the wagon in the cooking area. A ceramic cauldren held the flames safely within as Juna melted lead in a dark steel pot the size of two fists held together. Yan Yan was adding the finishing touches on a four pronged slate crossbow bolt. Using great care, Yan Yan filed a delicate edge onto each prong. Known as 'shatter bolts, these highly prized crossbow bolts split into four razor sharp pieces of shrapnal upon impact with a target, shreading flesh and even soft bone. Lead could be added for extra force and higher duribility against lightly armored opponents. Utilizing a set of tongs and leather gloves, Juna dipped each of the thirty 4 inch long crossbow bolts into the melted lead an inch and a half deep. If you completely submerged the bolts, they wouldn't shatter, too little and they'd be useless against anyone wearing stronger then leather armor. It was almost an art to get the correct amount of lead onto the bolt's prongs.

 

Driving the wagon was Tannle, an apprentice priestess from the Uliger Clan of healers. She wore the traditional robes of her healing order; soft white with metallic blue trim. Being the only one her order could spare for this upcoming battle, she asked the Ganaffis if she could ride to the battle field with them. They readily agreed, knowing Tannle for quite a while in their youth. She was one of the only children who had refrained from calling them the 'Copperhead Kids' because of their hair, which was a metallic copper. The young priestess, to the warrior's delight, turned out to be a wonderful cook and great company. she loved hearing of the clan's battles together while they enjoyed her vast knowledge of plants, animals, and tales of the heroes of her order.

 

One the third morning of travel, the Golden Fields of Scolf were visible in the distance. Miles of golden wheat growing wild upon this plain had given it it's name. The field was like an ocean of gold as the wind created rippling waves across the shafts of wheat. The wheat itself was called 'Angel Wand' and when used as an additive for beer, created an almost heavenly taste in the brew. Unfortunately, the wheat did not keep well after being harvested, completely rotting in less then a week.

 

The lead wagon pulled to a stop as the scouts dismounted and checked the area for ambushes in the wiast-high wheat. The rest of the carvan formed neat columns inwhich to easily set up camp. Gath's second, Lusari, ordered the wheat in and around the campsite to be cut to prevent a fire attack from destroying their camp. This took several hours using small sickles. Once cleared, the wheat was bundled up with hemp rope and soaked with pitch to be used in the catapults against the enemy army.

 

It took the rest of the day for camp to be completely set up. Tired from cutting wheat and unloading the arms for catapults, Yan Yan stretched out on a fur mat behind their wagon for a nice rest. Tannle was cooking a small meal from a pheasent she had killed with a sling earlier in the day. She gave Yan Yan some in a bowl, smiling when he thankfully took it. Knowing the Ganaffis didn't talk while eating, she sat silently until he was finished, which took little time at all. "How'd it taste," Tannle asked.

 

Yan Yan smiled," Absolutley wonderful. Where did you get the pheasent?"

 

"I killed it with my sling," she answered. Yan Yan remembered Tannle telling them that her order was forbidden to use metal weapons, for they saw metal as sacred to the Goddess, Mythul; whom the order worshipped. However, the holy order was unmatched in the use of slings, staves, and bulslacks (a hard leather ball attacked to an elastic leather cord tied to the wrist, much like an ancient yo-yo).

 

"What is that heavenly smell", Boslio asked as he rounded the corner of the wagon with Juna by his side.

 

"Sorry, Boslio," Yan Yan replied," I already ate it all."

 

"I wouldn't tease him to much, Yan Yan," Juna playfully cautioned," I'm sure he's hungry enough to roast and eat you if you're not careful.'

 

"There's plenty left,"Tannle laughed,"help yourselves."

 

"I don't know what we'd do without you, Tannle," Boslio thanked the priestess as he grabbed a bowl.

 

"Probibily starve," Juna answered," Sarie is the only one of us that can cook, and she's back home."

 

"What happened to her, Tannle inquired.

 

"We got into an ambush by some raiders near the Bone Forest," yan Yan informed her," Sarie took a spear to the back."

 

"That was my fault," Boslio recalled before eating," If I hadn't dodged the spear..."

 

"Then you'd be laid up in bed or worse," Juna finished his statement," Things happen. Please stop blaming yourself, Boslio."

 

Boslio looked into the bowl of food for a long minute, then set it down. Tannle gave him a concerned look. He gave a weak smile,"I'm not trying to insult you, Tannle. I just don't feel like eating now."

 

"it's alright," she comforted," It will be waiting for you when you want it."

 

"Thank you," Boslio nodded. He rose up." I'm going for a walk," he told the group.

 

"Boslio, you shouldn't," Juna started before Yan Yan held up a hand to cut her off, shaking his head slightly. Sighing deeply, Boslio left them. Juna looked at Yan Yan in disbelief. "Why did you let him go like that," she demanded.

 

'Because he needs some time to himself," Yan Yan answered," He's been kicking himself ever since that night. Give him a little time to get his mind right."

 

Juna huffed,"I suppose you're right." Gently blowing on the steaming pheasent, she began her meal...

 

Boslio walked around the war camp gathering his thoughts. Though it had been weeks since Sarie was wounded, he still could not stop blaming himself. At the edge of the camp, he stared out into the approaching evening. The sky grew darker gradually while the sounds of siege machines being constructed along with makeshift battlements sounded in the distance. Just over the far horizon, the amber form of the moon began to emerge. With the sun now set, lightning bugs blinked neon green glimmers as though purposely glinting in strange, almost hypnotic patterns. Quickly, Boslio realized that the flight of the lightning bugs were actually being orchestrated. Their pattern had formed an almost humaniod form.

 

A cold feeling overcame Boslio as the form walked toward his. He tried to cry out, but a heavy feeling over whelmed him before could. Paralized where he stood, he was helpless as the Cloven One stopped before him. In his mind, he heard a voice that wasn't his own. 'Though I can not kill you,' the voice said,' I can not have you alert the rest of your comrades to my persence. Sleep.' With that word, Boslio dropped into a heavy slumber while the spy began to gather information about the rival army...

 

 

Across the Golden Fields, smoke billowed from cooking fires as all manner of gobliniods prepared for dawn's assualt. With a force of a few thousand, the army was confident in their chance of success. The stinch of the camp filled the lungs of Thri'Du, Lord of the Rift. As he meditated, he invisioned the adversary's camp. After dropping that lone wonderer with a strong sleeping spell, he observed the layout of battlements, what type of siege weapons they brought, and their number of forces. His form used to spy was a small cloud of lightning bugs. They were common enough in this region, so few would be suspecting them.

 

As he focused, he noticed a group of three people sitting by a cooking fire. There were two women and one young man conversing to themselves, unaware of his presence. One of them looked familure, her white robes intriging him. That's when he realised she was a Priestess of Mythul. His blood ran cold as she looked up and noticed the form of dancing lights. Before he could safely pull himslef out of the trance, the priestess leapt up, hand outstetched toward him. "In the name of Mythul, and by her might, shatter!"

 

Thri'Du's mind and soul screamed in searing pain as his spirit was begening to break apart. Using all his power, he pulled his spirit back to his body. he wake from the trance howling in pain. He clutched his aching head, his gastly form of a humaniod bear regreed into a normal human with cloven feet. Panting, he called for his commander. The large ogre lumbered into the war tent, dressed in a pelt of human skin, skulls lining his belt. "Yes, my lord," the ogre asked as he bowwed his head.

 

The smells of the room began to finally register in his mind as well as his thoughts. Rising to his feet unsteadily, Thri'Du took a few more deep breaths before answering the Orge," They have..." he paused for a second," tell to army to build an alter in the middle of camp. Choose three to be sacrificed to the Dark Lord. We need His blessing."

 

The ogre bowwed once more as he turned to leave. Thri'Du needed spiritual strength to win this battle as well as troops. 'If there are more followers of Mythul in their army,' he thought to himself,' we'll need all the help we can get."

 

 

Are you sure," Gath questioned as he eyed the priestess. He was still a bit peeved at her order sparing but one of their number for this battle. However, if there was in fact a Cloven One leading the enemy, Gath knew his army was in trouble. They were very well prepared for swords and arrows, not magic. Definately not magic. "What of Boslio?"

 

Tannle gave a weak smile," The good news is that he's alive," she reported," but he's under a very strong sleeping spell."

 

"I see," Gath replied," What can we do to neutralize this threat?"

 

"I have sent word to my order already," Tannle said," I don't know if they can do anything in time, though." Yan Yan and Juna looked on as the conversation unfolded inside the shadow draped command tent. Gath, dressed in full battle armor, looked over several reports on the small folding table before him. His second in command, Lusari; whom stood an impressive 6' 5", awaited any orders from his superior. With light blond hair, chisled face, and commanding demeaner, Lusari possessed natural leadership ability, proving himself on numerous occasions. "Lusari," Gath called.

 

"Yes, sir," Lusari answered.

 

"I want the men ready before sunrise. We march on the enemy at dawn."

 

 

Meanwhile, the gobliniod camp was a flurry of activity. A huge balefire was built in the center of camp. Two kolbolds, both screaming in fear, were tried to large timbers erected in the center of the fire, flames licking at their feet. Thri'Du smiled as the sacrifices struggled and kicked in vain. Slowly, he felt a dark power well up inside of him. 'Ah,' he thought to himself,' the sweet taste of fear. It calls to you, my Lord.'

 

The rest of the camp were engaged in a pre-battle ritual known as the Kulth, where one would strike another on both sides of the head with an open handed slap, breeding anger in the individual. Occasionally, bloodlust took hold, resulting in a fight among the two. Every once in a while, the end result was fatal. Another war tradition was the drinking of fermented deer blood, the receipe a secret among orcs. Though repulsive to most, the brew provided a numbing effect to injuries incured during battle if drunk the night before. The drink took several hours to take complete effect. Unfortunately, Thri'Du's forces didn't have that kind of time. One of the Cloven One's field officers approached him, a worried look on his face. "What," sneered the vile priest.

 

"Our scouts on the Eastern flank haven't sent a runner to report to us in a few hours, my lord," the lizardmen answered.

 

At first Thri'Du didn't give it much thought, enjoying the display of terror as the kobolds began to burn alive. Soon, he realized what the report implicated. Despite the dark power that started to coarse through his viens, his own fear began to well deep inside him. Quickly, he turned to the lizardman captian, about to give him orders to assemble the men and prepare for an attack. That's when all hell broke loose.

 

low clouds from the East swiftly gathered, obscuring the moon's light. Unnatural flashes of red lightning pulsed inside the storm. Staring up in wonder at the storm, many in camp began to mumble in amazement. Could this be a sign from the Dark God Jessari, many of them asked. A rolling thunder, deep as the pits of Hell itself, sounded over the camp. Some grabbed weapons in fear, some simply stood in shock and awe, while a few dropped to their stomachs and prayed. At the edge of camp, a lone figure appeared wreathed in a whitish-purple aura. Arrayed in dark brown robes, several small demon skulls hung from the being's dark leather belt. In her hand was a staff of twisting black vine topped with the horned skull of a fanged ram. With pulsing red eyes, her face was shadowed by the crown of red leaves, the Lural of Blood. She was Mynalax, Grand Druid of the Golden Fields of Scolf and it's proctector. With a loud, booming voice filled with rage, she roared," You dare defile my home?"

 

"Don't just stand there," Thri'Du commanded," Kill her now!"

 

A score of armed creatures charged the High Druid. In a fluid arc, she brought about her staff, calling down a hail of red lightning upon her charging foes. Cries of pain and screams of agony erupted from the group of monsters as lightning rippled, acred, and obliterated them.

 

A line of archers formed a little distance away, readying their longbows. Mynalax saw them and sent a strong gust of wind as they released the arrows. With the sudden wind change, the lethal wave of missiles rained on Thri'Du's auxilery force, dropping their number a bit. The archers prepared another volley until a hail of lightning fell upon them. All around the camp, war cries sounded as several hundred druids with their animal companions entered the fray. Thri'Du and his second in command were charged by a large bear. Thri'Du pointed a ringed hand at the beast, a lance of green fire impaling the animal. It dropped in it's tracks, a hole the size of a thumb nail in it's heart. "My lord," the ogre informed his master," We must depart before we are over run!'

 

"Not we," Thri'Du smiled," Just me." As he waved his hand in the air, a red light traced a sigil in the air. With an audible 'pop', a magical gate of swirling light appeared. Smiling, Thri'Du dashed through it, leaving his quickly diminishing army to the whims of the druids.