The Great Ent stood on the lonely ridge Scanning the horizon of
his domain marked by his disbursed parts for any action, to no
avail, it seems as if nothing is moving in all of Nemidia. A limb is
the haft of a scythe standing in the corner of a cluttered study. A
bit of a branch, carved into a spoon is hidden away in a dark
pocket. Another fragment, carved into a styalized figure hangs on a
thong around the neck of an attractive young woman busy at her work
station. All appears to be at peace.
But appearances can be deceiving. For in the shadows there may
be movement unseen by human eyes.