The Seige of Shadow Wood

The woods had always been home to you, offering it's gental embrace from the rest of the world, keeping others out and everything that you ever needed in.

It's always been that way through the last ten generations when the Great Exile had occured over 2000 years ago.

Your clan has lived in relative peace in the woods since taking them as their home back then, and to the shorter lived races that have taken resedence outside of it, they have thought that you had always been there.

But there was bound to be change, as with everything, and now it seems that the change is here.

For once the wood elf clan, your clan can not protect itself, for a hourd of humanoids have come to the eastern edge and started to push against the protective circle of trees, having destroyed the lesser settlements there already. Now, that force is sitting on the edge of your home seeming to contimplate how best to push through the barriar into your home and heart.

The elders, may they be blessed, can not see that in order to survive, they will need help from the outside. The 200+ elves have little chance against the orcs, ogres, goblins, and such that make up the thousands that stand against your beloved forest.

But you and a couple of your closest childhood companions can see differently. THere has to be another solution other then waiting from a defensive possition for the enemy to strike.

You and your friends will find a way to turn the tide in this seeming invincable force.

You have come together to see how you can work around the elders actions without opening up the defensive of your people.

It's late and the place is an old intersection of branches with many hiding places and concealments that you used to play with eachother at. You had agreed to meet here.

A flock of small birds were following the bard. M'lya Forestsong made her way through the moods carefully, singing a song that kept the creatures in thrall. However, her heart was heavy at the peril ahead. The road ahead is not easy, I fear, she thought to herself. She had bought her weapons and armor in preparation for the difficult days ahead. She brushed a flower that grew up from the ground, as thought petting a dog.

She stood up. A sparrow settled on her shoulder. "We must do what we can against the creatures who disturb our peace, Shine. You must understand that." Their songs joined briefly, counterpointing each other as she continued on her way. When she arrived at the meeting point, she looked for a spot behind some shrubbery to hide behind, awaiting the others.

"Hello, M´lya" says Dancer as he arrives. "Aren´t the others still here?"

He sits down on one branch and looks at the dome of green. "This is supposed to be the hour. Ah, I can´t wait any more. We have to do something." He gets up and starts practicing with an imaginary sword. "Ambush their patrols. Kill their leaders. Even ask other clans for help. Whatever."

"Aren´t they supposed t be here by now?"

"Whoa. Peace, Aenyeweddien." Laucian grins as he steps noiselessly from the underbrush. "You can't kill all of your problems, especially not ones of this size." He shrugs. "What if we do kill a few leaders? More are just going to boil right up. The Horde seethes with violence, brother--it's too great a fire to be fought only with more fire."

Laucian casually settles, cross-legged, to the ground, cocking his head to one side, still smiling. "Asking for help, though--that's an option. There's a lot of people, a lot of different races and nations, who stand to be impacted by the Horde. If we could just start getting people to work together..." He speads his hands wide, as if indicating the spread of possibilities, then turns to smile warmly at M'lya.

"Beautiful music, as always, my honored sister. You lend an air of magnificence to our furtive proceedings." A sudden curious expression comes over his face. "Tell me, M'lya, have you ever heard legends about just such a danger as we face now? What I mean to say is, among your vast store of tales, are there any which might give guidance to us now?" Laucian speaks carefully, almost reverently to the bard, in stark contrast to his more casual, less respectful speech to the warrior.

"Oh, and is it true that the chaste and fair Valeriel will also be joining our conspiratorial band? Have either of you spoken with her? I must confess that it has been quite a long span of time since last I spoke with the noble one." Laucian has trouble deciding whether to smile or frown as he mentions Valeriel--it's clear that he has mixed feelings about her.

nonamazing said:

"Whoa. Peace, Aenyeweddien." Laucian grins as he steps noiselessly from the underbrush. "You can't kill all of your problems, especially not ones of this size."

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"Maybe, or maybe not. You were always the ´wise one´, so explain why I have that warm feeling inside me ahen I think on a pyre of a couple thousand orcs. And if we can´t kill them all, sure we can frightem them - If only the elders were some more active."

M'lya recalls plenty of tails of large forces facing small bands of people, and, unfortunately most end with the destruction of the smaller force. Of course there were always the tales of insermountable odds overcome by the courage of the few. Most were done through the destruction of a single leading element that was the cause of the war, whether it be the destruction of an overly ambitious leader, or he distruction of a misunderstanding.

The main thing that these stories told was that the REASON behind the force was very important to discovering if a small force like theirs even had a chance to stop them, or if, like they suspected, they would have to go outside of the forest and rally the neiboring alien races for aid (an unheard of event in the history of the wood elves).

"Maybe, or maybe not. You were always the ´wise one´, so explain why I have that warm feeling inside me when I think on a pyre of a couple thousand orcs. And if we can´t kill them all, sure we can frighten them - If only the elders were some more active."

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"Maybe I'm wise and maybe I'm not," Laucian quips, "but I do know that it'll do you little good to gain your revenge by becoming the thing that you hate. And I also know we won't protect our home by throwing away our lives to sate your bloodlust. Or do you wish to see more elven children orphaned as you were? Because that's what'll happen if we don't choose to make protecting the Shadow Wood our first priority." Laucian shakes his head and smiles sincerely at Aenyeweddien. "The elders are close-minded, seeing only what they want to see. We can't help matters if we act they same as they do."

"My brother, do you truly understand the scale of what we're facing? If, by some grace of the gods, we managed to kill a thousand orcs for each one of us gathered here, that still wouldn't make a dent in the Horde's size." Laucian laughs. "A hundred or so die each day just because they can't stop fighting amongst themselves, and each day two hundred more arrive to replace them." The young elf looks at his friend with genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry, brother, for I've marked well the loss you've suffered. But the path of anger and vengance will doom both us, our home, and the memory of our people. For if we fail, and the Shadow Wood is razed, than there won't be anything left to remind this world that our race ever existed, and the Sylvan Elves--all our lore, all our poetry, all our craft, all our magic--will be forever forgotten."

"You´re a druid and think that way. Yes, Laucian, I want to see them dead at my feet. I want to see fields carpeted with their bodies, finish everyone of them, erase all traces of their existence, and annihilate their memory. Then I´ll perhaps be in peace."

"Steel is the only language those things understand." says Aenyeweddien after a pause. "But anyway we four aren´t enough to make ourselves heard. What do you suggest, then?"

"There are always tales of small band of heroes overcoming great odds to defeat hordes, such as the saga of Lhartarin and his four brothers, who by cunning and guile, defeated the Orc Horde of Brask the boar-headed. As in the tale, we would have to use the best skills that each one of us has, if we hope to protect Shadow Wood," says M'lya, who starts to sing a stanza from the tale.

M'lya goes into a stanza where the brothers had found the driving force of the Orc Hourde, and destroyed it: one brother acting as a decoy, another holding back the hourd, while the last to destroyed the person taht had illustrated the hourds movements and had the charisma to keep them together.

After that, the brothers retreated and then secretly started to infultrate the different clans to disrupt their aliances so that the normal bickering of the tribes would destroy them.

It was clasic good vs evil where the evil eventually fell in itself bringing salvation for the good.