The battle was long and hard, the gods be damned alliance of the Sidhe and the Elves were causing his blood to boil.

Twist, block, riposte, a death scream sounds.

Another elven swordsman falls, and Juriel and his men press deeper into the elven lines, trying desperately to break them after these hours of battle. They had been fighting for days now over this small patch of land, trying to break through and take it before the sidhe reinforcements arrived.

Need space, getting crowded. Juriel raises a hand and a blast of air sends all forces before of him careening backwards several meters.

"By the Gods I hate Magic." He thinks to himself as he removes the head of an elf who recovered from the blast quickly. The fresh blood on his face reinvigorates him somewhat and he takes a brief assessment of the battlefield. The goblins were being pushed back, and his own forces were being worn down, and were starting to take losses. He desperately wished his forces could take flight. Unfortunately the elven arrows were extremely accurate and extremely deadly to anything in the air, so he banned his forces from aerial assault. The Icharii were forced to fight from the ground, taking away their greatest advantage.

Juriel calls out. A battalion of goblin archers forms up behind the lines and begins loosing volleys of arrows into the elves, and the Icharii forces begin a slow retreat.

The hours had exhausted both him and his forces, and as strong as the icharii were even they could not go on forever. Turning to one of his goblin commanders, He gives a brief order. "Press forward with your men as mine fall back. Once all Icharii are in the clear, pull your forces back as well." The small goblin nods once and issues a battle cry. The goblins rally to it and slam into the elven ranks, decimating the elven front lines, but stopped by a wall of spearmen.

An arrow flies from behind and punctures Juriel's shoulder. He screams in pain and looks at it, seeing the fletching is goblin in make. He vows to find the archer later. The Icharii retreat, falling back and calling for the goblin forces to retreat to the rear also. This was a battle they would finish on the morrow.

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Back behind the fortifications of his forward base, Juriel headed to his command tents. Entering his tent, he walked to one of his goblin commanders and ripped out the arrow. "Find the archer this belongs to, and quarter him. Then find any kin of his and do the same with them." The goblin sneered, but nodded. He would do it.

Sitting down on the floor, he leaned his back on his armor rack and called for a healer. Closing his eyes, the battle replayed in his head. The elves were a hardy bunch, and perhaps the most skilled warriors he had faced to date. He had expected an easy victory against such an aloof race, but that was not to be. Sighing, he turned his attention to an Icharii female entering his quarters. Sythlini, his mate and one of the few icharii mages in existence. She rushed to his side, and pressed her hands to the wound in his shoulder. Juriel closed his eyes as relief washed over him. She then moved her hands to the lesser wounds on his body. A small gash on his ribs, a broken finger on his left hand, a shallow puncture wound on his outer right thigh.

When she finished she leaned close. "You must not risk yourself so greatly, my love. Your people would break if you ever fell in battle."

Juriel just smiled. "My dear, It inspires my men when I gut the enemy. When they see the enemy skewered on my spear, or bleeding out from my blades, it drives them to fight on." His grin growing even wider he picked her up and threw her on his mattress. "Also, fighting and the taste of blood get me aroused."

The battle would continue on the morrow.... but for now, Juriel Khael Dlorian had other matters on his mind.

"Find the archer this belongs to, and quarter him. Then find any kin of his and do the same with them."

Snark looked at the arrow in his hand as Silverwolfe's voice echoed in his brain. The Goblin spat on the ground: he knew this arrow. He knew who it belonged to...

"State your business."

"Uffizial bizziniss. Lorrt Zjurial wanz roogue gooblin dead."

The Icharii that guarded the passage to the Goblin encampment grinned and flexed their wings. After they flung open the door, Snark and the two Icharii made their way into the place where Goblins were allowed to rest between battles. The encampment, surrounded by high fences was known as 'the Pen' and was bereft of comfort: grounds smutched with victuals, drenched tents and only the injured were granted strawbeds.

The two Icharii attracted a lot of attention. The winged 'masters' were hardly ever seen within the Pen and here and there one could hear a Goblin sneer or grunt as they passed. Most Goblins though remained quiet and looked at the ground as the Icharii only ventured in the pen if they could 'enforce justice'; a justice they had come to fear.

Snark led the Icharii to the field hospital and asked for a Goblin named 'Ngarb'. As they entered Ngarb's quarters, they found the wounded Goblin fast asleep.

"Do you recognise this arrow!?"

The goblin awoke with a scream and looked at the arrow that was now sticking from his right arm. the look in his eyes as he looked at the Icharii and Snark betrayed that he knew this arrow.

"Izz mai arro...but I don nuttin! I innozent!"

"Lies!"

Another scream, as the arrow now stuck from the Goblin's pelvis area. Snark turned his head and listened to the ensuing screams. As the screaming seized, he heard the Icharii approach him.

"The deed is done. Has he any kin?"

"No. Ngarb ownlee wan. Famlee got killed lon agoo."

"No kin?"

The Icharii looked at each other and grinned.

"Then his neighbours will do. An example must be made."

Snark's eyes flared and, silently, he made his way out of the field hospital as he heard the muffled cries of his race: the casualties of Icharii warfare became the casualties of Icharii justice. Snark sighed, this was unexpected. He had hoped for a smaller sacrifice...

"I izz zorry Ngarb. I izz zorry fellow goblins in hoospital. Jour deaths izz a zacrivaiz. A zacrivaiz to ztop oll zacrivaiziz. A zacrivaiz vorr own race, not vor ee-car-ee. Thiz I promiz."

Snark left the Pen with the satisfied Icharii guard. He left them at the pen's port and made his way to Juriel's tent. Raising his hand to one of Juriel's personal guards, he grunted:

"Letz maztur noo that deedz don. The eggzampull haz bin maid."

With that, Snark stept away from the tent and made for the outskirts of the Icharii-settlement. He looked over his shoulder and, seeing no one there, disappeared into the forest.

---

"Holloo tree, hollooo tree. Ah. There it bee."

Snark approached the hollow tree. The elderly goblin grabbed a piece of paper from his quiver and, scraping the bark of the tree with one of his nails, began to jot certain words down:



He hid the paper deep inside the tree's bowels and returned to camp. He would return tomorrow, hoping for word of his contact.

"Get going, Son. We need to know whats happening in Raven's Pass to decide whether this ground is worth the blood we're paying for it." Commander Tuor said, pushing the young Sidhe out the door. The elf pointed off towards the north.

"Probably the safest way to go is to work your way along the treeline and across the creek... Assuming Vulon's skirmishers are as competent as they claim they are, the way should be cleared. Can you make it back by midnight?"

"I should be able to. I know the terrain around here well." Toph said, mentally picturing the route he'd take in his mind... it wasnt a long trip, but this close to the front lines... Toph had learned not to give absolute guarantees...

His mind wandered back to the third night of fighting in this valley... he had been tasked with checking in with each of the company commanders and relaying their opinions back to Lord Elerosse... and things had been going SO well, when he had been forced to hide at the base of a hollow tree when what seemed like half the goblin army came marching through the trees... there had been a break in the lines, and some goblins... or rather, the icharii pair commanding these goblins had made the most of the opportunity. Toph needed to tell someone about this...

Finally, the goblins had moved on, and Toph carefully lifted his head up to look around. Everything appeared safe... quiet... nonetheless, Toph muttered a short spell that would improve his ability to move silently. He had gotten to his feet and was about to leave when he noticed a piece of paper stuffed inside the tree. Toph fished it out, and read.



Toph blinked in surprise... was this a trick? Toph knew that the icharii were horrible to their goblin slaves, using them as little more than arrow-fodder whenever possible... but Toph had always been under the impression that the goblins were either too stupid, too scared, or too... acclimatized to their position to actually care about any of that. Toph reached into his bag and pulled out some paper himself.



Toph stuffed the note back in the tree, and moved on to warn the elf army about their goblin interlopers.

In the next few weeks, Toph came back several times to the hollow tree to find a new note from his goblin contact. He had learned quite a lot about the icharii-goblin relationship, and had finally suggested that his goblin contact use another goblin's arrow... each were specifically marked, it seemed, to attempt the assassination.

Back in the present, Toph had started moving off into the woods... the hollow tree was on his way... he'd stop and see whether his contact had gotten any further in his plot...

An hour or so later, Toph was in front of the hollow tree, and sure enough... one of the goblin's less than quality pieces of paper was stuffed inside. Toph reached in and unfolded it.

It appeared that his goblin contact had actually attempted to go through with the plan... and had lived to tell about it. Too bad Juriel had not died... that would have been the best news. As it was... Toph wracked his brain for other ideas, then pulled out a piece of paper and began to write.



Toph reached down to his waist and pulled off the small vial that dangled from his belt. The Icharii were renowned torturers, and if you had information that they wanted... which Toph certainly had... it was better to die than be captured, so all scouts and messengers were given these vials in case it was... necessary... but now... there was a better use for it. Toph wrapped the vial up in the paper and laid it inside the root system of the tree before getting to his feet and brushing the dirt off his legs... he had quite a way to go. Casting a spell to let him run a little faster and further than usual, he set off towards Raven's Pass...

Things had not been going well. The elven armies had been slowly pushed back since the start of the summer, giving ground to Juriel's Icharii forces as that demon-spawn had hammered the elven lines with his Cthyllvistha, the only Icharii soldiers skilled enough to keep flying in the midst of an elven archer volley. Finally, the armies had settled here in this valley at the edge of the treeline. The Icharii advantage in the open fields was lost amongst the trees, and from their vantage points high in the tree branches, the elven archers had finally forced the Cthyllvistha to the ground and forced the invaders to a halt.

Elerosse looked up from the map spread before him and stared off in the direction of the front lines, a mile or so southwest of his current position... he figured that barring any changes in either side's composition, the elven army could probably hold off the Icharii indefinably, which was good. His army was running out of places to go. The first of the major elven cities lay barely fifty miles from where he now stood, and he would NOT let the Icharii get any closer. By the look of things... Elerosse studied the positions and numbers of his men as reported by the Sidhe messenger boy this morning... everything was still in place... 10,000 elves divided into ten companies each guarded a section of the valley floor in an concave semicircle... Elerosse's plan had been to draw the Icharii into his bowl and use the flanks of his army to cut them to shreds, but so far the only troops who had been caught in the crossfire were some expendible goblin slaves. Another 2,000 elves guarded Raven's pass... the only *other* way into this valley. If they fell, Tuor would need to retreat from his position and prepare to fight on a second front.

And where were those Sidhe, anyways? Their Allies were, of course, busy fighting on their own front, but he had been told to expect a sizable number of mages three days ago, and they had yet to show up. Their assistance in this fight would be invaluable... perhaps they'd even have a chance to strike at Juriel himself with those sorts of reinforcments... For now, the armies rested for the night... to await what horrors would arrive tomorrow.

Dawn came far too soon, but the rustling of his troops, and the sliver of sunlight shining through the crack in his tent caused him to wake. Opening his eyes, he glanced to his side and stroked Sythlini's face. He had worked hard to win her over as she had been promised to his recently deceased elder brother. A magnificent duel had been fought and at the end of it, he was the victor with his brothers head laying at his feet. Sythlini and being the new heir to the Icharii throne had been his prize. Her beauty and skill with magic was said to rival that of Khelestra, an Icharii sorceress who was killed by assassins at the start of the wars nearly five hundred years prior.

Quietly slipping out of bed, He quickly dressed and donned his armor and weaponry before he stepped outside. Picking up an apple, he bit into it and surveyed his troops, most of which were already formed up. The four battalions of goblin berserkers he had been given were now being roused by their handlers. On top of the ten thousand goblins, he had six hundred trolls, and fifteen Krell beasts, Lumbering hulks of armored flesh, teeth and killing power. Of Icharii forces, he had two thousand of the elite Icharii Cythllvistha, two hundred Icharii Shadowwalkers (scouts) and twenty of the rare, but powerful icharii mages.

Well, he had that many forces at the start of the battles, but he now had just over seven thousand goblins, eight Krell, and two hundred trolls. His Cythllvistha had lost three hundred in the first few days fighting here at the valley, and of his mages only nine still lived. He was currently waiting on the reinforcements promised him by his father from the main Icharii army, but they were still about a couple days out, having to travel at the pace of the goblins. He needed to find a way to break the enemy forces soon, or he would have to withdraw and give up land that he and his men had fought so hard for.
"
Hearing the beating of wings, he turned and saw one of his scouts landing nearby. "Milord. I was out over the mountain and I spied what I thought would be a way to flank the elves. It turns out that I was right, its a small pass, and guarded by no more than two to three thousand elves."

At hearing this, Juriel called for an immediate strategic meeting. "In one hour I want five hundred Cthyllvistha, three Krell, fifty trolls and three thousand goblins ready to attack. Apparently there is a pass we can attack through and flank the elves. It can win us the day if we play our cards right. There is a force of roughly two thousand defenders in the pass, and if we can take it, we can take the valley."

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An hour had passed, and the Main force of Juriel's army was marching towards the enemy's main lines. Car'lioma, one of Juriel's ranking generals was leading the flanking force. It had been nearly another hour before they reached the pass, careful to remain hidden and quiet as possible, his Icharii Shadowwalkers silencing every elven lookout they could find. The Krell were left with their handlers a mile back to advance once they heard the battle begin. A Krell could move at decent speeds and cover a mile in merely five to ten minutes when pressed. The battle had begun on Juriel's end, and Car'lioma smiled, the elves hadn't detected his small force yet, and they were within charging distance. Standing, and unfurling his wings, he screamed that classic order. "CHARGE"

At that, The Goblins and Trolls surged forward, towards the startled elves screaming with bloodlust.

"Good work, Toph." Tuor said, eyes scouring the page of notes Toph had brought back about the situation in Raven's Pass.

Toph smiled and felt a rush of delight at the commander's use of his name... Tuor was the least battle-hardened and least disgruntled of the commanders, and missions on this side of the army always seemed to be more worthwhile because of it. Arriving back nearly an hour earlier than expected had been an extra bonus for the commander, who, Toph suspected, wanted to hit the sack as much as Toph himself did.

The news was good. No enemies had been spotted, morale was good, and the captain in charge of the forces predicted that they could hold the pass against any number of foes... at least until reinforcements arrived from Tuor's camp. Toph had written all of this down and raced back, skipping the hollow tree, which had probably not been checked by his contact anyways.

"Okay, So, word came in while you were gone that the signals have changed, so, I'm sorry, but I'm going to need you to run back first thing tomorrow morning and let them know."

Toph nodded. The elves had a creative system of relaying messages from central command based on the release of trained birds, which flew in prescribed patterns to relay simple messages. Since these messages were quite visible to anyone who looked up... assuming they knew the birds were a form of communication at all, that is... the signals were changed every week to help keep the messages undecipherable. "Can do, sir."

"Okay, now get some rest... I have a feeling tomorrow will be a long day."

Toph smiled as he left the tent. Tuor always had a feeling that the next day would be long. Then again, during wartime... he was right more often than not...

The next morning, Toph set out for the pass again, making good time in the shadows cast by the rising sun. For the first time in weeks, he was actually happy... the Icharii army had been stalled, the elves were holding their own and for the first time in a long while, the war actually seemed to be going their way. The Icharii and Sidhe had been in conflict for long ages... the Sidhe finding the Icharii culture to be repressive, destructive and evil, and the Icharii, well... the Icharii being all those things and trying to enslave the world. It had all come to a head over a hundred years ago with an Icharii advance into Centaur lands. The combined armies of the Sidhe, Elves, Dwarves and Pixies had met the Icharii in battle... and had been giving ground ever since. What Centaurs remained were slaves of the Icharii empire, the Dwarves were all sieged in their strongholds to the west, and the pixies... the pixies had run away and hid... leaving just the Sidhe and their cousins to fight, all the while being pushed north and east back to their homelands.

Their only hope, truth be told, was that the Icharii were stretched very, very thin at this point, and, if the rumors were to be believed, there was a rebellion brewing amongst the slaves, which made up the majority of the Icharii army. Common hope amongst the allies was that if they could put enough pressure on the Icharii here, the slaves and dwarves would be able to destroy the Icharii hold on these lands from within.

And today, it looked like they were succeeding.

Toph suddenly stopped, listening, then breaking into a run. There was sound of battle ahead. Toph broke through the last of the trees, and saw that his report from the night before had been... faulty. Clearly, the Icharii had found out about the pass. A large band of Cthyllvistha was cleaving into and through the elven resistance, which was frantically trying to avoid both the blades of the Icharii and the tusks of the Krell beasts. At the center of the line, Toph watched the Icharii leader engage the elven captain in battle and, seemingly effortlessly, dispatch the elf. At the death of their leader, the elven lines wavered, then started to buckle as the bulk of the attackers pushed into the pass.

Toph looked to the sky as a shout rang out from above him. Two Icharii had seen him and were diving towards him. Toph started to run, tearing through the underbrush and trying his best to get away from his swiftly-winging doom. Tuor had to know what was about to happen.

Toph made it back to Tuor's camp barely ten feet in front of the Icharii Shadowwalkers behind him. It had taken him all his magical ability to make it through the woods at the speed he had managed. The Icharii were taller and better trained than Toph, and without the extra speed he had called on, he would have been dead not half a mile from Raven's Pass. As it was, he was bleeding from a cut on his arm, courtesty of a thrown knife. As he raced into the camp, he started shouting for help. The Shadowwalkers, startled at the speed at which the camp had appeared around them (the elves chose to blend into the forest, as always), hastily beat their wings and took to the sky, only to fall to the ground moments later, pierced by arrows from the ever-alert archers.

"Where is Tuor? Raven's pass is breached!" Toph shouted to the nearest soldiers.

"He's fighting at the front. Juriel decided to probe this flank himself today."

"You have another set of Icharii advancing from your right now. Any reserves are going to need to prepare. They're right behind me."

The reserve troops began organizing themselves to defend a new front while Toph raced for Tuor's tent. While Lord Elerosse had many birds with which to send messages, the company commanders had only one... which always meant one thing: Help. Toph barged into the tent, grabbed the falcon from its roost and raced outside to toss the bird into the air. As the bird winged skyward, The Krell beasts burst through the underbrush and tore into the elven lines. Toph grabbed for a nearby bow and looked for a good spot to fire from.

"Aagh! Theez Zidhes kahnt rait! Theez letturz be soo rauhnd n kurlie!"

Snark looked over the note again, trying to decipher its writing. He was in a hurry: his pretense of 'taking a wee' bought him some time to sneak off to the hollow tree, but if he did not return to the flanking force swiftly, he would arouse suspicions.

"Ahh...poizon!"

The elderly Goblin finally grasped the Sidhe's writing and keered for joy. He took the vial of poison and attached it to his belt, hiding it with one of the flaps of his loin cloth. Before returning to the flanking force, Snark gobbled away the note.

"Ah there he is!"

As he returned to the flanking force, he saw three Cthyllvistha waiting for him.

"It seems like he managed to keep his armour dry!"

"Well it took him long enough!"

The heavily armoured Icharii pointed at Snark's loin cloth and laughed. Snark grunted and rejoined the Goblin ranks. One of his kin gave him an update: they would reach Raven's Pass within 2 hours, where, according to the scout report, only 2,000 elves would be waiting. The upcoming battle somehow raised Snark's spirits; eventhough many Goblins would fall pray to the magic of the Elves, Snark now possessed the means to end the bloodshed of his kin.

"Aarrgh-!"

Shocked by the sudden outcry of a fellow Goblin, Snark looked over his shoulder: Had they been ambushed!?

"Carry on. Stay in line!"

Car'lioma shouted his orders with a blunt smile on his face, floating perhaps four to five yards above the flanking force. Apparently they had not been ambushed. Muffled murmurings passed through the Goblin ranks and soon Snark learned that one of the Krell beasts had accidentally stepped on a Goblin, killing it instantly. The word was that the Icharii had chuckled at his pulversihed remains. Snark sneered and touched the flap covering the poison. He would make sure to stay alive today and, he decided, out of the vicinity of Krell beasts...

---

The day was nearly won. The outnumbered elves faultered and were driven back meter by meter. Elven-staff clashed with the axes of trolls, the Cthyllvistha army proved nearly impenetrable and the ground lay covered with the remains of goblins and elves alike. Snark stood amidst the Icharii strike force, surrounded by creatures of all sorts: mostly goblins, some Cthyllvistha and the only remaining Krell beast. Snark did his utmost to protect most of his kinsmen and staying alive at the same time, when suddenly...

"A Sidhee! There! On the brim of the forest!"

Snark looked at the forest and saw a pale creature lurking from behind a tree, barely 10 yards away from the battlefield. The Cthyllvistha that had raised the alarm stood within a few feet of Snark and looked to kill the Sidhe with one of his throwing daggers. Snark jumped, knowing that this might be his contact, and acted swiftly: the Krell beast that stood between the elderly Goblin and the Icharius proved an effective tool. Snark's swift movement that cut a hole in the Krell beast's hindleg, sent the creature whirling against the Cthyllvisthaic knife-thrower, who imbalanced greatly, still managed to hit the Sidhe in the arm. Seeing the Sidhe wounded, but able to flee put a smile on Snark's face. This smile grew wider as he saw the Icharii enact his 'justice' on the Krell Beast; at least their return to camp would not see any trampled goblins...

*Woosh*

A sudden bolt of blue light caught Snark by surprise and sent him whirling through the air. Thrown back by the Elven magic, but luckily still alive, Snark landed a good distance away from the battlefield.

-Crack-

The sound of breaking glass caused Snark to quickly regain his footing. For sure, the vial was on the ground, its contents drizzling into the dirt.

"Noo!"

Snark looked around him and, seeing that he was, for the moment at least, only accompanied by a few corpses, quickly scooped up the dirt in which the poison had dribbled. Filling his quiver with the handfull of poisoned sand, Snark sighed of relief. Now all he had to do was somehow having Juriel eat the dirt, as to make him eat the dust afterwards. What could be easier?

Juriel quickly glanced around to assess the battle. He had hoped that his flanking force would arrive soon, and hearing screams and the clash of battle in the distance, he realized that they were already there. Smiling, he knew that the pressure would be relieved soon, as the elves would have to fight on two fronts. Once he pushed them from this valley, he could post here for a few days to let his army recover and lick their wounds.

Spinning his blades in deadly arcs in front of him, Juriel danced towards the elven lines, the inertia of his spinning blades easily parrying elven blows and following up to quickly cut them down. Stopping when he saw who he believed to be the elven commander, He smiled. Juriel slowly began moving towards the elf, cutting down any that stood in his way. On the way there, the elf had apparently spotted him, and began moving towards the Icharii prince.

When no opponents stood between either of them, the pair stopped, and examined each other. Without saying a word, the pair locked up in combat. It became a silent battle, with the combatants surrounding the pair stopping their respective fights to watch in awe as the two leaders fought. It was almost beautiful to watch, the only sounds were the distant screams of the dying and the clashing of the pairs blades. For ten minutes the pair were locked up, until the elf managed to slip his longsword between Juriels ribs, puncturing one of his lungs.

Jumping backwards, Juriel's face drained of color as pain and panic flooded his body. Falling to the ground, He looked about, and the battle that had been stopped resumed as if nothing had happened. Looking at the elf commander advance, Juriel cast a spell that turned the area black as pitch for a few seconds. When the light returned, where Juriel had been laying was a young elven girl, sobbing. "Please, Please don't hurt me. I, I dont know how I came to be here. One minute I was in a dark cell, and the next, I am here. Please, I don't want to die!!!"

The attack had come, as always, at dawn. The Icharii came storming across the field and slammed into the waiting lines of elves. The battle had raged for several hours when Tuon noticed a new group of soldiers approaching, led by none other than the enemy commander, Juriel. Smiling wickedly, Tuon stepped around the Krull beast he had just dispatched and moved purposefully towards the Ichari.

The two locked blades, and danced back and forth, probing for weaknesses in the enemy's guard. The soldiers around them moved back to give their leaders a better chance to fight. Suddenly, Tuon saw an opening and darted forwards, striking a lucky hit and gravely wounding the Icharii prince. Tuon grinned and moved forward to finish the job.

Suddenly, everything went black, and when the light returned, Juriel was gone and an elven girl lay where he had fallen. Tuon blinked and paused his forward movement. He knew Lord Elerosse's daughter was prisoner of the Icharii overlords, but... she didnt look anything like the girl in front of him.

A trick. It was a devilish trick. Tuon stepped forward again, an angry glint in his eye, then stumbled forward crying in agony as a goblin blade bit deep into his leg. His troops rushed forwards as Tuon struggled to stand up, and a soldier moved to help him leave the field. His leg burned fiercely, and he knew that he would need to be seen by the healers before he was ready to fight again.

It was at that moment that the Icharii force that came through the pass slammed into the flank of his company. As Tuon watched helplessly, the reserves crumbled and slowly but surely, his entire company started giving ground, falling back in a more-or-less orderly retreat. Tuon knew that to lose this flank would be devastating for the army. They had only managed to hold off the superior numbers of the enemy because of their excellent defensive position... if the Icharii could simply march past them... nothing would be left between them and the cities.

"I released the falcon, Sir." A voice came from behind him. Tuon turned to look at Toph, his Sidhe messenger and nodded his appreciation before grabbing a standard and calling out to his troops to stand and fight. As the Icharii army came at him from two different sides... he doubted his words alone could save the day.

About a quarter mile from Lord Elerosse's command tent, forty black dots suddenly appeared, hovering over the grassland. In the space of a few seconds, the dots expanded and forty Sidhe stepped through the gates in unison, portals snapping shut the instant their heels passed through. At a signal from their leader Angrod, the mages turned, battle robes flashing purple and silver and headed for the tent in the distance.

As they neared the tent, Angrod saw Lord Elerosse giving orders to a group of elves while others hurriedly assembled into cohorts. One of Elerosse's advisors saw the Sidhe and hurried over.

"Ah, I cant tell you how happy we are to see you, cousins."

"We got here as quickly as we could... fighting in the north was a little more intense than we had anticipated. At least the Icharii seem to be running out of competent mages." Angrod replied.

"Yes, it does appear that they are running out. Our best estimates are that the enemy here has maybe a dozen mages left at most. Our mages have managed to hold off the worst of their attacks, but your help will be invaluable."

"We have the advantage here, so close to our homes. Attrition is wearing our enemies thin. Let us make today the day we turn this long war back to our advantage."

The elf nodded. "The first thing we need to do is to reinforce our western flank. Commander Tuon has reported that he needs help. We're about to send out our reserve column, but from the reports of our scouts, the fighting is fierce and there's no guarantee that they will hold long enough."

Angrod nodded. "We'll hold them off till you can arrive. Do you have a map we could use?"

The elf nodded and led the Sidhe to a large map and pointed out where Tuon's men were. The Sidhe studied the map for a few moments, then stepped back. Around the table, forty black dots appeared, opening up into portals which the Sidhe stepped through...

And straight into combat. The Sidhe appeared barely a hundred feet inside what remained of Tuon's orderly lines... now reduced to ragged groups of elves valiantly fighting off the enemy, but continually giving ground.

"Give the elves a chance to regroup." Angrod said to his men, reaching out at the same time to touch the nearest tree, which started to vibrate slightly.

Moments later, roots erupted from the soil, spearing advancing Icharii through leg, gut and wing. All along the front, Icharii were being struck down as the Sidhe called upon their Art to drive the enemy back. The elves stopped their retreat and began closing the holes in their lines, cheering as the Icharii advance faltered under the wood/fire/ice attacks.

Angrod looked around for the commander, and found him struggling against a Cthyllvistha. The commander was in bad shape, holding on for dear life to a banner and still losing blood from a bad gash to his thigh. The man was clearly a talented fighter, but all that was keeping him alive was instinct. Angrod raced towards the Elf, calling two other Sidhe to come with him. A flick of fingers sent a swarm of burning lights into the the Ichari soldier, flinging him backwards.

"Get him to the healers" Angrod said to one of the Sidhe with him.

"Wait. Juriel is here, badly wounded." Tuon weakly pointed towards where a large clump of Cthyllvistha stood defending a prone figure.

Angrod smiled and met Tuon's eyes. "Then let us finish this."

Tuon nodded and said "I'm ready" to the Sidhe currently supporting him. Moments later, the two were gone, heading off to the healing tents back at Lord Elerosse's camp.

Angrod's eyes had never left the group of Cthyllvistha. He gestured and large rocks ripped themselves from the earth and flew towards the Icharii, knocking groups of them aside. The attack continued, more and more rocks cutting through the Icharii and coming ever closer to Juriel's prone form. Finally the accursed one was visible, and Angrod sent a rock hurtling straight for the Prince's head, only to have it hit some invisible object and fly off into the distance. Angrod looked up just in time to see a ball of fire racing towards him, and hastilly knocked it aside.

"Their mages are here. Regroup and prepare to defend." he mind-sent to the rest of the Sidhe...

Juriel struggled to rise and flee, but the wound in his side was bleeding profusely and he was having a great amount of difficulty breathing. Able to get to his feet, he surveyed what he could of the battle. He saw that enemy mages had arrived, and shuddered. He hadn't taken any spellcasters with him this sortie, and now wished he had. The sidhe were formidable opponents. And they had spotted him. Turning away, he noticed a stone flying at his head, and realized he would not be able to avoid it in time. Seeing the stone deflected, and a fireball launched at the sidhe forces, Juriel smiled. His mages had arrived.

Landing beside him was Sythlini, His mate and quite possibly the most powerful Icharii mage alive. Raising her hands, she closed her eyes, and the earth below the elves erupted in an explosion of stone and dirt. Turning to Juriel, she grabbed his arm and pulled him at a run away from the battlefield, using her abilities to lend him strength until she could stop and properly heal him. Once far enough behind friendly lines she allowed herself to stop, and turned to a very pale Juriel. Laying him down, she placed her hands over the wound, and let her magics enter his body. By doing so, she enhanced his bodys ability to heal itself a thousandfold, his lung restitching itself, emptying itself of blood and refilling with precious air. His bones producing blood at an exponential rate, the hole in his flesh closing. Only when she was certain that he was healed enough to make it back to their base camp did she allow herself to ease him of any pain.

Taking her waterskin, Sythlini forced him to drink it all, to help replenish the fluid lost when he bled out. Pulling him to his feet, she glared at him. "Return to the base camp. Eat, drink. Do not return to the battle this day. Our mages are allowing our forces to retreat, but that is all. The sidhe are too numerous, and if your father does not arrive here with reinforcements by tommorow we lose. Unless we withdraw now. We must withdraw and regroup. I will provide a further distraction for our forces to escape. Leave, or my spell will kill you."

As Juriel took wing, she Looked towards the sky, and began to cast her conciousness out, going up beyond the clouds, beyond the upper edges of the atmosphere to the realm of the stars and searched. Finding several large meteors, she wrapped herself around them, and pulled them down, towards the planet. The effort began to tax her body, and she did as the Icharii of old had done. She stole what she needed from the planet, and from the life around her. The more energy and power she stole, the faster the meteors began to travel. When they hit the atmosphere, she noticed them beginning to burn away and cursed herself. Wrapping them in protective magics as they travelled towards elven forces taxed her body and the earth even more. Once she was sure their course was set and that they had travelled far enough not to be destroyed by the atmosphere, she released them, and nearly collapsed from the strain. Every plant and animal within a quartermile of her was dead, every plant a dry husk and browning rapidly.

Sweating and panting, she looked up, and saw six massive balls of fire careening towards the earth. Seeing one would impact nearby, she screamed a curse and blasted a large hole in the ground before leaping in it, hoping it would protect her from any blast effect that would occur. The noise of the impacts were deafening.

"Above us!" Angrod shouted, pointing up as the meteors came hurtling out of the sky. A shimmering shield appeared floating directly over the heads of the Elves and Sidhe. As each meteor struck, a wave of heat blew over the troops, but meteor itself broke apart and disintegrated, releasing a loud boom. Suddenly after a few meteors had been destroyed in this way, the shield faltered and failed and two meteors smashed into the elven lines, throwing bodies left and right and burning those in the vicinity. Angrod took a quick look around and saw many of his Sidhe unconcious from the strain of protecting the troops from such a powerful attack. With the full force of his mind, Angrod shoved the final meteor away, watching it careen into the woods to the north, knocking down many trees and lighting even more on fire. With a snarl, Angrod turned and pointed at the ground underneath the Icharii troops, who, like the elves, had ceased fighting for the moment and were staring towards the burning forest.

Angrod reached deep within the earth, feeling for the roots of the trees all around him and pulling them upwards, calling on them to grow tall, thick and sharp. All along the Icharii line, roots thrust themselves into the air skewering a few unlucky Icharii who didnt get out of the way in time before curling in on itself and forming a thick wall of roots and thorns.

Angrod stumbled and sank to the ground, holding his head and trying to calm the throbbing sensation that accompanied asking too much of his Art at a time. Behind him, he heard Elerosse's reinforcments arriving and begin pushing the flanking force that had come through Raven's Pass back up the slopes that led to the pass itself. Around him, the elves of Tuon's company reformed themselves into strong, tight lines, field healers darting in and out to sooth minor injuries. Angrod could do little more than sit there, mind fuzzy and spent, but detecting that his foes were equally tired...

It was nearly ten minutes before Sythlini could gather the energy she needed to pull herself out of the hole she blasted in the dirt. She had felt the heat from the impact, but the hole in the ground had protected her from the blast and most of the debris. Crawling, she looked around and saw the forest ablaze. Trying to work her wings so that she could take to the sky, she screamed in pain. One of her wings was broken, the feathers tattered and scorched. Their once lustrous sheen now dull and sooty, the wing bent the wrong way at the first joint.

Gazing around, she began the walk back to the sidhe lines, using her spear as a walking stick.

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Juriel had barely arrived back at his Headquarters when he heard the meteors roaring through the skies. Turning to look, he watched in awe as they slammed into the elven ranks. Seeing one of the meteors deflected to the north, Juriel shook his head. The sidhe mages were too powerful. Then he realized that the meteor was heading towards where Sythlini was casting from. Immediately he took to the sky to search for her.

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Sythlini had walked only a few dozen meters when a tree, that had somehow managed to remain standing after the blast, had finally decided to give out. As luck would have it, it fell towards Sythlini, pinning her to the ground. Screaming in pain and frustration she struggled against the fallen tree to no avail. Calming slightly, she looked about trying to clear her mind and think of a way out. It was then she saw the encroaching inferno. Panicked, she attempted to push the log off of her, but she had completely tapped her reserves of energy, and had already drained all life in the area to drop the meteors on the enemy forces. So afraid was she of burning that she did something she had never done in all her years of life. She cried out. "Please, Somebody help me! Please!"

The explosion as the last meteor impacted was deafening. Flying towards the impact site, Juriel was buffeted with powerful winds that slowed his progress. The smell of burning wood and foilage filled the air as he circled around the impact site, his eyes straining to see through the haze and debris that was cast into the air when the meteor had hit. Circling lower and lower, Juriel continued to search. It was then that he heard a muffled cry.

Landing, He focused on the sound, and hearing the direction it had come from, he staggered towards it, still weakened by his exertions and loss of blood during the battle with the elves.

Far to the north, a lone sidhe sorceress was sitting in the sparse chambers the regional lord had afforded her, musing over the humans. They were a short lived race, violent and had a tendency for brutality. However, they were extremely tenacious and clever, using science and alchemy where they lacked in magical ability. They were also numerous and fast breeding. Not quite as numerous as the goblins, but their numbers were astounding.

She had been here for two decades now, and had been working with the humans. On arrival, she immediately sought out the most powerful regional lord. With her assistance, the two began a mostly peaceful subjugation of the human towns and smaller regions. Now, several years later, she sat waiting for the human lord to summon her. The night before, she had explained in detail the icharii threat, and the benefits of assisting the Sidhe and Elven forces to him. He had told her that he would need a night to think on it and he would give her his answer in the morning. It was now morning.

There was a knock on the door, and upon opening it she saw that it was the the Regents son, Stromdus. "Milady, my father wishes to see you."

Nodding she left her room and went to the regent's throne room. Passing the guards, she entered the throne room and bowed. Looking at the regent, she felt a sorrow for him. When they had first met, he was youthful and full of life. The years had not been good on him. He still stood straight, but had developed a cancer that was eating away at his body. His eyes still burned with life and passion, but his body was a wasted shell of what it once was. "Good sir. Have you made your decision?"

Nodding, the old man stood and walked to the window of his meager castle. "When you first arrived, my realm only consisted of a few towns and not even a thousand people." Falling into a brief coughing fit, he shook his head. "You convinced me that conquering the surrounding human colonies would help my people prosper, and that was no lie. I now command over a hundred thousand people, and in the time I have known you we have built cities and a mighty army."

Falling into an even harsher coughing fit, Mena used her abilities to sooth his pain. She did not have the power to eradicate the cancer. All she was able to do was prolong his life a few years and give him a small modicum of comfort. Placing his hand on her shoulder, he gave her a small smile.

"Although I am to die soon, I was comforted by the fact that my people are now prospering. But you tell me of this threat to the south. I now understand why you helped me unite my people, and I do not fault you for it. These winged beasts you tell me of would have enslaved and eradicated my people along with the other races. And you say that all that stands between the armies of the Icharii and our lands are the lands of your people and the Elves. Fae creatures."

Shaking his head, the old regent walked to his throne and collapsed into it. "You do not leave me much choice, or hope. If the Fae are having such trouble defending against these demons you speak of... I do not know what help we would be."

Mena smiled at this. "My friend, although those that are fighting this war are "Fae" as you call us, we bleed, we fight and we can die like any other creature. If you help us, the sidhe and elven mages will protect you against their magics, and we will be beside your people fighting the Icharii hordes with you. The reason we ask for your help is because we simply do not have the numbers to hold them off for much longer. This war has gone on for over five hundred years, and because of the numbers the Icharii have they have pushed us back, little by little. With your help, we can finally gain the upper hand against them."

The old regent sighed and slumped even further into his throne. "Very well. Give my armies a week to prepare and they will march out to assist your people. It is the least we can do for one who has helped us so much." A single tear ran down his face. "Unfortunately, I can no longer lead my forces into battle. That responsibility will fall upon my son, Stromdus. He is a strong man, and has the makings of a good leader. I hope he does not let you down."

Smiling, Mena leaned forward and kissed the old human on the cheek. "Thank you my friend. With the assistance you give us, you help pave the way to the future for your people."

Turning and leaving the room, Mena felt elated and hopeful. The humans had a weapon that none of the other races utilized. Cavalry.

Toph barely noticed the flaming meteor in time, throwing himself to the ground as the rock slammed into a group of trees not a hundred yards from where he lay plastered against the forest floor. A blast of heat rolled over him, singeing the edges of his tunic, and then... there was silence.

Toph lay still for several minutes, mentally checking each of his body parts several times over to make sure everything was present and accounted for. He was still doing this when one of the trees that had been hit by the meteor let out a large CRACK and began falling... the other way. Toph breathed a sigh of relief and pushed himself up onto his knees - and froze as a scream echoed through the forest. Spooked, Toph looked all around him but could see nothing through the haze of dirt, smoke and ash. Suddenly he heard a voice calling from the direction of the falling tree. Toph staggered to his feet and stumbled towards the voice.

It was an Icharii.

Toph froze. He didnt think he had ever been quite this close to one of the enemy before. Toph knew the Icharii were conniving, and he didnt want to screw this up and fall for some trap. The Icharii before him looked scared and wounded, but Toph knew from the reports that he conveyed that a sometimes-used trick Icharii shadowwalkers used to capture unaware opponents.

Looking back on the event later, Toph didnt quite know exactly what had made him leap forward to try and help the Icharii... was he trying to capture her? Was it the fact that, this close up, the differences between them were less than he had suspected? Was it his better nature? Or was it an unacknowledged deathwish? It was unclear, but nevertheless, Toph came forward and used his water to best douse the flames coming down the length of the tree trunk towards the Icharii, stamping his boots down on stubborn patches that refused to go out.

"Okay, you're going to have to help me with this part" he said to the Icharii, wrapping his arms as far as they would go around the tree and straining to lift it to no avail. Toph grunted and found a different grip, and was about to try again when a shadow fell over him. Toph looked over his shoulder and found himself face to face with Juriel, Prince of the Icharii. Toph shied away from the imposing Ichari, moving along the tree trunk away from him.

"not good. not good. You had to help, didnt you..." Toph muttered to himself, fully expecting his death to come at any moment...

Elerosse was furiously pacing near the healers' tents. The Sidhe and the reinforcments had left sometimes around ten minutes prior and now he had to wait to hear of their success. He hoped he had sent enough elves, not too few so that they'd all be slaughtered, not too many so that another point along the line that needed more men would have to go without. The Sidhe would probably be an excellent equalizer... it was only the cover of the trees that really protected the elves from the brunt of the Icharii mages who were left... the last elven mage had been immolated nearly a week ago, fighting off three different magical attacks. Imlan had managed to take out two more Icharii mages that day, but with his death, the elves had been left defenseless...

With a Pop, a Sidhe and Commander Tuon appeared not ten feet away from Elerosse, the two stumbling to the ground. Elerosse started forward, grabbing Tuon and helping him up. The elf had a bad gash on his leg, but a fierce look of pride in his eyes.

"Juriel is badly wounded, Elerosse. I left him lying in the dirt, barely able to move. The Sidhe leader was... dealing with him." The color drained from Tuon's face, and he collapsed just as the healers arrived, catching him and lowering him gently to the ground. One of them examined Tuon's wound, nodded, and looked up at Elerosse.

"We can take care of this. He'll be up and around in a few days"

Elerosse nodded his thanks and moved over to the Sidhe, who was sitting on the grass holding her head.

"Ugh... no time to use the portal... teleporting is so unpleasant..." she muttered to herself.

"Thank you for that. How goes the fighting?"

The Sidhe looked up.

"Well. We caught the Icharii by surprise, and when I left our lines were reforming... obviously we expect some more retaliation when the Icharii notice our presence, but... it should give us enough time to stop their advance."

Elerosse nodded and handed his water to the Sidhe, who nodded his thanks.

Minutes later, a familiar black circle appeared and another Sidhe stepped through, turning to find Elerosse.

"Lord Elerosse, the lines are secure. Their mages arrived, but we deflected the brunt of the assault. Your reinforcements are as we speak pushing the Icharii back up and through the pass they got in through. Angrod is maintaining a barrier between the forces to allow the wounded to be extracted."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the end of the day, the lines had been restored: Raven's pass was once again held by elves, the Icharii were back beyond the edge of the woods, and the long stalemate continued. The elves had lost nearly 1000 of their number, and two Sidhe were dead with another comatose with uncertain prognosis. Tuon lay in the healer's tents, rapidly regaining strength... Elerosse knew that the day had almost been a disaster, and only hoped that the Icharii fared just as poorly.

"What a nice little cave" Llardorwyn murmered to himself, turning around a few times in order to make sure that there was plenty of room to maneuver, especially as he got larger. There probably wasnt quite enough room that when he was full-grown he'd be able to spread his wings fully, but for now... it was just perfect... located here in a nice mountain range not far from his kin-dragons so he could go and visit them over the coming years, but far enough away that he didnt have to see them all the time. Llardorwyn paced around the cave, thinking about what he would put where, when he was interrupted by coarse, gruff voices at the enterance to his cave, talking about finding a place to hide and rest after being stranded behind elven lines.

Icharii.

Llardorwyn didnt like Icharii much... they thought that just because they had wings they were just as good as the dragons, which was patently untrue and foolish. And if these Icharii were going to lead the rest of their cocky, good for nothing race to his cave... he just couldnt have that. It was bad enough that the lesser races' silly war had come so close... it would be another thing entirely for the Icharii to use his cave as a staging point.

Llardorwyn rushed out of the cave, catching the Icharii by surprise. With a quick swing of his head, Llardorwyn burned them both to a cinder, then turned around and went back inside to contemplate where to set up his nest...

[OOC: We lost a post or two here, specifically one in which Silverwolfe arrives on scene where Toph is attempting to help Sythlini. Instead of killing the Sidhe, Juriel instead rewards him with a medallion that will give him passage through the lands of the Icharii as thanks, but warns Toph not to abuse the gift as its not a free-pass to spy on the enemy camp or anything like that. If I recall correctly, at the end of the post, Silverwolfe and Sythlini leave together, leaving Toph standing in a burned clearing holding Juriel's medallion and being very, VERY thankful that he is alive. Aaaannnd... go! (Silverwolfe, if you feel like making that post again, go ahead, but its been a month )]

Toph stood watching Juriel and the other Icharii fly away into the night sky. How was he not dead? He had met the Icharii lord, Juriel 'Elfsdoom' Dlorian himself, and was not lying on the forest floor with a hole in his chest. Instead... Toph looked down and forced his hand to stop clenching so tightly to the medallion... Instead he had been given a seal of the royal family of the Icharii? Was he having a death-dream?

Toph took a few experimental steps... no, everything seemed to be in working order. Toph took a few more steps, then broke out into a run, heading back towards Tuon's main encampment. Soon, the noises of the camp could be heard through the trees, and Toph was relived to hear elves shouting to one another, as opposed to Icharii. The camp was clearly in a state of disarray, and as Toph finally reached the tents, he could easily see why. Elves ran this way and that carrying either stretchers, medical supplies, or arrows to resupply the sentries. It was chaos, but organized chaos, at least. Toph started heading for Tuon's tent, ducking and weaving through the traffic.

Tuon's tent was empty. Toph was somewhat suprised... he had expected the captain to be here, planning the next steps of the battle.

"The captain isn't here... he is at the main command tents getting his would seen to. You must be Toph, the lone Sidhe in the army..." A voice said from right behind him.

Toph jumped, startled, and turned around to see, of all things, another Sidhe!

"Ah, yes Sir. Scout Toph Imlardil, Sir." Toph stammered.

The older Sidhe laughed. "Good to meet you, Toph. Please, call me Angrod. Im glad to see you are allright... some of the men here told me that you were last seen in the area."

"Yes... Its been a rough day." Toph admitted with a shrug. "Has the Sidhe army arrived?"

"Alas, no. The battle still rages on up north, tying up the majority of the Sidhe army... a hundred mages were sent under my command... and it looks like we arrived just in time." Angrod paused, and looked down at Toph's hand. "What is that there, Toph?"

Toph showed Angrod the medallion and related how he had met Juriel in the woods.

"And that demon-spawn let you live? That is very odd, and very fortuitious for us." Angrod smiled viciously. "Come. Elerosse will want to talk to you... the uses we could put that medallion to are... numerous."

Toph watched as Angrod closed his eyes and a portal appeared.

"After you, Toph." Angrod said, gesturing to the portal. Toph took a deep breath and stepped through...

OOC: So I decided to kill Car'lioma as well..and leave some evidence, to make things interesting

Snark looked back at the battlefield and smirked. The battlefield raged on, but more and more warriors were struggling to make their way through the corpses of their predecessors to reach the line of battle. Snark surpressed a slight giggle as he saw one of the Cthyllvistha slip and fall over the disembowelled remains of a Krell beast. As he gloomingly noted the great number of Goblins amongst the fallen, he sighed and retreated into the forest.

He checked his quiver for the presence of the poisoned sand and then, attaching it to his back, made for the camp. Looking back every now and then tio make sure he wasn't followed, the elderly goblin made good pace, when suddenly...

*BLAST*

The sound of a loud Elven blast boomed through the air, followed by the cracking of trees nearby. Seconds after the blast, Snark heard Icharii-horns being blown from the battlefield nearby. Obviously something was amiss and that blast had had something to do with it. As Snark neared the place of the cracking trees, he saw...an Icharii. As he neared the scene, he noticed that the Icharii was heavily wounded and, more interstingly, none other than Car'lioma! Barely alive, the Icharii tried to raise his hand as he noticed the Goblin approaching.

"Goblin. Come here. Help me."

" Mee, zir? Heeelp yuu? I wile!"

Agitated by the fact that, even in a time of dire need, the Icharii-captain still managed to produce a commanding tone, Snark speedily approached. Not to raise a helping hand, oh no, to raise a maiming Goblin penknife. Snark stabbed furiously into Car’lioma, who, helplessly injured by the blast, could do nothing to help himself. As he was happily stabbing away, Snark suddenly heard a rustle in the bushes nearby, followed by a murmuring in the distance.

“Uh-oh! Skoutz uff the Ikaree-ee armee, Snark go ahweee!”

Without a second’s thought, the elderly Goblin rushed from the scene, leaving Car’lioma disfigured and beyond life.

As he ran and ran for five minutes, he was sure that they had seen nor followed him. He had reached the Icharii basecamp: time to poison SIlverwolfe! With a sigh of relief, he noted that the quiver had acted as a good container for the poisoned sand, but...

“AAH!”

Snark panicked and quickly went through his pockets, his eyes peedily scouting the floor around him. His Goblin penknife! He left it in Car’lioma!

"Okay, Toph. Tell me again. What did Juriel say this medallion did?"

Elerosse listened carefully as Toph repeated his tale of his meeting with the Icharii lord. His eyes glanced up to see Angrod watching him. The look in his eyes was plain as day: "we have just scored a major tactical advantage" Elerosse agreed. The tactical possibilities of a 'free pass' into Icharii lands were huge. They could finally sneak someone out to the dwarven citadels to help the Sidhe mage strike forces determine safe locations to mount some siege-breaking strikes and put some added pressure on the already strained Icharii lines. They could determine the location of the Icharii slave pens and break out some reinforcments. They could start creating a spy network deep in the Icharii lands, and hopefully find the Fortress of Eldrich might where mage reinforcments for the Icharii were being trained. Or... Nuaira.

Not many people outside of the commanders of the elven army knew that Elerosse's own daughter, Nuaira, was a captive of the Icharii army. She had been in the city of Mellamin at the start of the summer when Juriel's army had launched its sneak attack and started the long retreat of the elven army. The army had tried to get as many citizens of Mellamin out of harms way as possible, but the last anyone had seen of Nuaira was her being dragged away with other slaves by the goblins that had tunneled under the city's walls.

While Elerosse knew he should choose a different mission... he could not pass up this opportunity.

"I hope this medallion really works, Toph, because there is a special mission that I would like to test this on."

Elerosse looked at the two Sidhe, took a deep breath and started in.

"I doubt either of you know this, but my daughter, Nuaira, is a prisoner of the Icharii. Selfish as it might be, I have found my ability to lead this army to be less effective ever since she was captured in Mellamin. I would like to use this medallion to attempt to rescue her."

The Sidhe nodded, compassion in their eyes. Nearly every Sidhe and Elf had a family member who had been captured by the Icharii and placed in one of their slave camps.

"Do you know where she is being held, Elerosse?" Angrod said quietly, searching Elerosse's eyes.

Elerosse shook his head. "No. I'm afraid only the Goblin records would know. I still cannot believe that the goblins are the most scribeful of the enemy, but they would be the only ones who would know where for certain."

"My lord?" Toph said, speaking into the silence that stretched after Elerosse had stopped speaking. "I might be able to get an answer for you"

Toph related how he had been contacted by a goblin in Juriel's camp.

"Toph, you are full of surprises today. Yes, by all means, try to get ahold of your contact."

As Toph and Angrod left to head back to the front lines and get in contact with the goblin, Elerosse allowed a small smile to cross his face. It was his first smile in a long, long time. Perhaps there was some hope for the Allies after all.

Night had fallen and Juriel was furious. He had never lost a battle before today. A hundred years of combat, and he had never lost. Shaking his head, he looked at the small pen knife in his hands. It was Snark's, a goblin he had grown quite fond of, and it had been found in the body of one of his best captains. Snark had dissapeared, and his men were unable to locate him. Closing his fist over the knife, he looked at the starry night sky. The small twinkling lights witness to the aftermath of one of the bloodiest battles this war had seen. Again he shook his head. Dissapointment and a sense of loss racked his body.

Never before had he lost so many warriors. As he stood on the hill, he looked down at the Pen, at the goblins shuffling around within. He looked about at his Cthyllvisthier and other Icharii forces. They sullenly cleaned their weapons and armor around small fires in his camp. His eyes settled on his sole remaining Krell. He listened as it howled at the night, hoping to get a response from its fallen mate. A single tear ran down his face. Confused, he caught it on his finger and looked at it. A tear. The last time he had shed a tear was when his mother had tried to kill him.

Juriel looked out into the distance, and observed the dim fires of the elven camps. He felt a deep seated respect for their race. They had been outnumbered from the get-go, and still they fought on. Pressed and harried for years, they still fought with grim resolve. However it was just a respect for the enemy. An enemy he knew he must defeat. Leaping to the air, He glided down to his command tent and stepped inside.

"Men, have the warriors pack their gear. We lift and move tonight. We are falling back, for we cannot win with our current forces, and any further battle would be suicide."

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A few hours later, during the darkest hour of the night, Juriel stood once again on the hill overlooking the forest and battlefield. Turning to Sythlini and his command team he issued a barely audible command and walked away, heading south, away from the battlefield, and away from his defeat. "Burn it all"

"Wupseh..."

Snark sighed and looked disappointedly at his empty hand and realised his game was up. His penknife had probably been discovered by now and, pretty soon, a warrant would be on his head and, consequently, a noose around his neck...

Then the goblin remembered the poison in his quiver and regained something of his spirit: his faith might be sealed, but there was still time to seal that of the evil Silverwolfe! Luckily for Snark, the camp was nearly deserted and he could easily make his way to the leader's tent...

Lifting the tent's cover, the little goblin looked around the room: a luxurious sofa, a dressing screen, an armour stand, thankfully empty, something that looked like an umbrella and a dinner table. On that table, Snark's eyes fell on a pepper mill and a brilliant idea popped into his head.

"Youreekaww!"

He crawled towards the table and went about his business: out with the peppers, in with the dirt, done!

Snark was pleased with himself and danced around like a drunken sailor. Just as he was rubbing his exposed buttocks all across Silverwolfe's sofa, he heard the noise of loud trumpets. He immediately snapped back to reality: the army had returned!

Crawling out the way he came in, Snark rushed through the camp. As he passed through the tents, he could see the army return, bearing the remains of Carli'oma. Snark took a deep breath and started a sprint. An effort he maintained, untill he reached the outskirts of the camp.

He breached for the forest and found that he was well hidden between the bushes and branches. He exhaled without a sound and continued to move away from the Icharii camp. Knowing no other place to go, he resolved to head for the hollow tree, to see if his contact had left him another message. As he got further and further removed from the camp, Snark started to pick up speed again, it was getting darker and he wanted to reach the hollow tree before nightfall.

With the hollow tree just 10 yards away, Snark made a final dash. But then night fell and, after stumbling over a branch, so did the goblin; his stumble sent him flying through the air, head first into the hollow tree. Failing to see the irony of the situation, Snark panicked as he noticed he was stuck and couldn't get out.

Toph rubbed his arms to return the circulation to them as Angrod stepped out of the portal behind him. The elder Sidhe laughed and said "Yes, it is a bit chilly in there, isn't it? You get used to it, though. Which way to your tree?"

Toph glanced around and pointed west. "That way." The two Sidhe set off through the forest until they came close to the stump. Suddenly, Angrod grabbed Toph and pulled him behind a tree.

"Hsst! Listen to that. We're not alone."

Toph listened, and sure enough, somewhere in the distance a goblin was screaming its lungs out.

"It sounds scared."
"It sounds like it could be a trap. Do you trust this goblin?"

Toph thought about that. He had no real reason to trust this goblin... most goblins were wretched brutes who revelled in the killing their Icharii masters commanded. But a smart goblin, one who left notes and set traps for its enemies... that was preposterous. The thought of a friendly goblin was certainly less preposterous, so, Toph thought to himself, it must be the more likely answer.

"Strangely, yes I do." Toph said to Angrod. "The stump is right over there, anyways. If they've set a trap , we're already in it."

Angrod grunted in agreement and the two Sidhe made it the rest of the way to the stump, wherin they found a goblin, stuck up to his waist inside the trunk, shouting and cursing from inside it.

Angrod burst out laughing. "Okay Toph, you're right. This is no trap. Or if it is, they mean to kill us with laughter." Angrod chuckled as he placed a hand on the stump. "Okay, grab his legs and pull."

Toph reached out and pulled on the goblin's legs. With an audible *POP* the goblin became unstuck and landed on the forest floor in a heap.

"Are you the goblin that has been leaving notes in this stump?" Toph asked the prone goblin. "We need your help. We need to know where-"

Toph sniffed the air. It didn't smell right. It took him a few moments to figure out exactly what the smell was... it was the smell of ash, and burning things. Fire! Angrod reached down and picked up the goblin. "you'll have to answer us in a more... secure location," the Sidhe mage said as a portal appeared behind him leading back to the command tents. The two Sidhe and goblin stepped through...

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The elves had been prepared for the Icharii to attempt to torch the forest down. In fact, they were surprized the Icharii hadn't tried the tactic sooner, although the summer rains had helped to make the trees flame-resistant. However, the wood was now dry, and went up quickly. As soon as the elves realized what had happened, they quickly retreated behind the firebreaks they had cleared rougly a mile behind the front lines. the fire raged through the forest up to the line, but was prevented from going any further by both the break and rapid response teams that put out any small fires started by flying sparks. By the morning, the blaze was mostly finished, at least enough to reveal that the Icharii were gone. The elves cheered their victory, and spent the day resting and recovering from the battle as a few companies of new recruits came in from the surrounding cities. Then, on the next day, the elves did something they had not done in a long, long time.

They advanced.