[Aqua-chan]

As Sytze continued to move through the dense forests of Amn, he began to notice a foul air come with the breeze. In the morning it was not so detectable: faint traces of decay and waste blew in with the heavy winds from the south. By noon he had traveled a considerable distance, and the stench wafted plainly to his nose almost all the time. Midday, a time when the sun was high and most animals would be out foraging it was near silent in the forest. The birds had all returned to their roosts, refusing to sing their songs in the midst of the stinking threat.

The barrage continued on Sytze’s senses until nightfall. The sun was shedding its last few rays on the tree tops, and it was only then did he allow himself to indulge in a short break. Though it was unlikely his old friends were anywhere near him, Sytze’s subconscious self insisted he at least make some sort of effort to hide from prying eyes. He found a space between the thick trunk of a tree and a bramble bush and tucked himself away, if only for a short time.

The blackening sky was just beginning to reveal its glittering treasure horde of stars which seemed to pop into sight by the dozens as the rogue gazed into the endless void. Some purple clouds still hung persistently overhead, completely oblivious to the unease of the forest. Sytze looked around carefully, once again taking note that the cicadas had not begun their evening chant, nor had the small creatures of the night emerged from their dens to prowl. Smoke was now the predominant smell in the forest, but the man hadn’t seen any signs of nearby encampments or wandering adventurers. Obviously there was something amiss in the woods, and his inquiring mind was curious to find out what it was.

It had been coming more from the southeast, he’d concluded as he stood, ignoring the ache in his legs that demanded he stop. Facing that direction, he now was able to see a curious orange glow that hadn’t been visible before the sun had set. It occurred to him that the city of Trademeet would be off in that general area. It must have been the street lanterns giving off the vague light. He readjusted his clothes and continued on his way.

Something still continued to nag on the rogue’s mind. If he had been moving south, nonstop, then he would have come up on either the old elven temple or the woods of Tethyr - both of which he was sure he hadn’t. He looked off to the ominous glow of the sky again. I couldn’t have wandered so far east. I would have seen the lake of Trademeet if that was the city.

In a brilliant flash, a bolt of lightning seemed to randomly strike from the heavens, down to the place of the question. It was there and gone in a moment, but the thunder rolled slowly to Sytze. Before it had finished two more bolts came and touched upon the earth, and the desire to know what kind of battle was taking place at that illuminated place became too great to resist. He urged his legs to carry him to the site.

The orcish legions crashed heavily on the dwindling forces of the druids, roaring fearlessly as they stomped over the bodies of the fallen. The druids, despite being battered from the daylong fighting, were desperate to keep hold of their ground. Many had died from exhaustion due to channeling to much of the earth mother’s energies to ward off their foes: their broken bodies littered the battlefield, side by side with the orcs whom had been killed after much effort. The orcs behind the front line slung flaming bundles at the weakening druids, forcing them apart. To counter this the woodspeople who were capable of such magic called to the sky for lightening to crush their foes. Each time it struck the charred bodies of armor-clad orcs were tossed into the air carelessly, and then usually landed on top of their living comrades.

In the dark hours the battle was lit by trees that had been set ablaze by the orcs incapable of aiming the burning bundles. The old druid Blackoak surveyed the younger warriors, undistracted by the flashing of their scimitars, wails of pain from the orcs, and screams of death from his children. The hawks and eagles had told him there were two hundred of the foul beasts left. Blackoak began a chant to the mother earth wearily, tapping the dirt with a spindly finger that resulted in it magically rippling like water. With help they could handle two hundred more.

Sytze could hear the agonizing screams and battle cries before he even reached the site. Smoke hung trapped beneath the thick canopy of trees, choking his throat and stinging his eyes. Regardless, he continued to move until a black mass neared him so quickly he was barely able to grab the hilt of his katana before it reached him. A large deer bounded through the trees anxiously, surprisingly going towards the battlefield rather than fleeing it. It came so close to Sytze he could have reached out and touched the creature, yet the beast didn’t give him a second glance. The rogue stopped abruptly, unaccustomed to being ignored by a creature usually so cautious. He must have been called to defend his home.

A massive battle long underway caused Sytze to fall still in disbelief. His evaluating eyes glanced over just in time to see the stag charge an enemy, an orc, whom had just finished crushing the skull of some hapless human warrior. The monster’s green face was pierced through by the stag’s molting antlers, and it reeled back from the deer in pain. The stag refused to show mercy and head butted the orc until it fell, succumbing to the thrashing of an enraged animal.

Though Sytze couldn’t place the exact situation, he knew that orcs were not his allies. He slung his favored bow off his shoulder and set it, already aware of his target. An orc intent on killing some sort of summoned wildcat had strayed from his group and had his back turned towards Sytze. He would fall easily enough to the achieved archer.

The arrow whistled lowly before piercing the orc in its unprotected back thigh. It crumbled in response, and the cat it had been slashing at with an axe took advantage to claw at its throat. When the lifeless corpse fell out of the way, Sytze found himself in a staring match with not a cat, but a transparent figure made up of runes. The rune creature stared at him for a moment with evaluating yellow eyes, then turned back to battle. The city-lived archer could only guess the conjured creature was some sort of totem or spirit animal that fought alongside druids. He had been near Amn’s druid grove, so it was logical.

The fighting continued on furiously. The humans refused to retreat, despite their weakening abilities. Bears, wolves, and wild dogs found their way to the conflict and joined happily, biting and clawing the orcs until they were little more than bloodied piles to be trampled. Thunder rumbled as the called lightning shot down from the sky, upturning the orcs’ organized units and killing several at a time. Sytze continued to pick the helpless humanoids off with his bow, one at a time, saving a few druids in the process. None of them seemed too worried the stranger was suddenly helping them.

When the orcs’ numbers dwindled down to about thirty or forty a horn was sounded and they retreated. Some druids pursued them for a while, killing three or four with slings before they managed to escape. The battle was won, and the druidic survivors, after catching their breaths and realizing their land was safe again, whooped and cheered in their victory. As they celebrated they searched for their friends among the living, ignoring the dead. Sytze could somewhat understand it: the druid’s nature was to focus on the living, and death was only part of the cycle. The called and summoned animals fanned back out into their woodland home, uninterested in the humans’ show of delight. Sytze’s stag friend limped back into the forest, its hip torn open, and vanished.

So caught up in his own musings about what had happened, Sytze didn’t at first see the withered man in green robes, gazing at him, evaluating his movements. Next to him was a far younger man who spoke quickly and also glanced at the rogue. He may or may not have been one of the druids Sytze had saved when shooting down orcs.

Well, I hope he’s speaking quickly because he’s pleading for my life, Sytze thought.