They had headed west, sitting upon his majestic white
stallion Daerua. His sword slung on his back sensing
his feathered friends way up high- seeing all they
see. Feeling all they feel. Though the sun had just
melted behind the horizon to bring a new night, the
shadows now seeming to grow mightier for each grove of
oak and ash. Riding into the thicket of forest to
cloak his noble men from sight by illusionary
concealment. His senses alert. Distorted voices in the
shadows whispering to him. Taunting him. He knows his
mission and duty. He knows the powers and the magic he
brings with him as they wait in the rolling darkness
where time and space have ceased to exist. The eyes of
the unseen are upon him, the spirits of his fathers
and the hearts of his men constant companions. Chaos
had entered the forest and it had to perish.

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