Deep within the recesses of the forest, lies a small village filled with a race of people whom are as ancient as the forest which surrounds it. Not very far from the City Of Two Suns, the village lies just east by southeast from the great city, past the river which divides the boundaries. Wagons pulled by massive horses travel upon the roadway which stretches across a long wooden bridge spanning the cool, clear waters. Deer downwind of the bridge pick up their majestic heads as they hear the clatter of the bridle bells and hooves crossing. As the carriage continues on its way, small billowing dust clouds rise from the ground as the sun begins its descent. The wagon then passes some farmers in the fields nearby as the farmers return to the small village with their tools across their backs, returning from a hard days work tired and with sweat filled brows.

Within the confines of the villiage these people did their daily activities in peace while the young went running about. The trees which surround this place whisper in the wind of ancient stories long forgotten by the generations which have come and gone. Only the great elders which watch as the young roam the center square know of these tales of legends that have come and gone. Great elven queens and kings once came from the huts of this little corner of the realm as time slowly passed by. The feeling of community can be greatly felt- which is cherrished by the old, and rediscovered by the new.

One ancient elder, with long silvery hair, stands firm and tall against the setting sun which gleams behind his slender body, painting a portrait with words to those who would envision the truths to his words in mind. His face serene, panted like the sky in tribal form, shown days of wisdom etched upon his face. Wrinkles read like brances of the trees complimented his appearance and grace. The eyes of many bound breathless to his every word spoken, as if hypnotized by them. Birds sing their last evenings song as they danced fluttering from lampost to brush, fauna to flora. His ears aware of every small detail- aware of the onlookers, aware of the ancient wind which effortlessly blew through his long hair as it billowed back and forth, to his waist and fro, gently without interruption.

In the distance the sun set, with a orange glow serene and pleasing, without harming the eyes glance upon its last rays of the day. Purple soft clouds moved past silently. This early autumn day would end as peacefully as the day before. Slowly, the elder ended his story, smiled, then turned to go to whence he came, staff in hand as the gemstones interlaced with the curves glistened as the light from the sun touched each one in sequence. The children waved him goodbye and left to their homes with their loved ones as they watched him walk out of the village and dissappear into the woodlands beyond. Slowly the light faded from the treeline and the early evening slipped into night, as community bank fires were tended to for the long night ahead. Some of the men congregated in one hut, telling stories of their hunts, adventures, and buisness dealings with those outside their lands. Younger men listened to learn what they could from the knowledge of the older ones who had ventured beyond the great forest.

Several voices spoke at once, as elven music could be heard from a corner of the room. Slowly after a bit of laughing a single voice spoke over all the others.

A tall strong elven man with a deep booming voice spoke out of his wooden cup, quite apparent that he had more mead than he could handle. Looking at the bar he spotted Deer Runner standing with two others, dressed similar as he. Deer Runner turned to Black Bear and spoke with afirmation,

"I have been to lands far to the west upon the old continent, and I care not to return."

Several ears picked up on this and turned to listen to the conversation.

"Why does the great Deer Runner say this?" he mocked with his mug in front of his face. "You amongst many who have travelled farther out of our territory with no fear," Black Bear continued as he retorted with a smirk. "Surely something didnt pack you running back to our village without reason."

Running Dear replied, "I cannot say. And that is all I will say," he returned without hesitance.

He turned to Turtle Watcher and Korlean and whispered to each, then finished his drink and left without another word. All whom watched had questions running through their minds as well as across their faces. Many pushed it off and went back to their original conversations, others remained quietly baffled.

Deep within the lush ancient dark forest of the old continent- well hidden from the many eyes of each race, high within the tallest treetops of the woodlands lies a village deep in the boughs and branches thick with rich green foliage. For thousands of years it has existed, strong and prosperous. Well hidden from the urthean floor with two means to reach its splendorous branches. The sounds of light laughter from children can be heard as one would draw near to the base of these old, worn trees. Nearby a spring moves endlessly venting its hot waters to the surface then dissapating into the crevaces, falliing into a small pool just below it. Torchlights glow and flicker as the night watch with their wolves by their side circle, guarding what they call home. The wolves with keen scent and sight stride beside them, ears sensitive to the night sounds around the bases of these tall lumbaring trees. Soon mothers gather their children for the night, as the children clamour to their parents. One woman picks up her very young daughter, and takes hold of a vine, and with one tug is catipulted to a platform above. Others follow in suit. This village above the urthean ground has been hidden from outsiders for generations.

Torches lined against the railing glow steadily as the purple light from the nights sky begins to fade to a deep velvet black. Fresh garlands hang around the banisters of fresh cut wild flowers from the fields not too far from the forest. Buildings placed strategically on this first platform glow with an inner light as the days work is done and families gather for quality time with their loved ones. In the center of the platform a waterwell is garnished with the same type of garland that can be seen all way around the platform. Many homes exist within the confines of the branches. As one walks towards the waterwell one can see a second platform just a few feet higher than the first. Guards patrol the platforms as people make their way to their huts made of wood and folliage. Here, on this platform the people are less in quantity as this level holds the homes of the guards. Not as quite as large as the first platform, yet the center of this one has a great tree hollowed out and lit with firelight within. Outside two pillars stand on each side of the tall doorway which stands twelve feet in height. Garlands decorate the pillars and front steps to this place as singing can be faintly heard from inside this enormous tree. Here, the garlands which hang are decorated with not only wild flowers of whites and violets, but also have silver dipped acorns dangling from them as well. Around the archway of the door, engraved into the tree and embedded with silver elven writing can be seen. A blessing one assumes, for this place is the central temple of the village. People who bypass leave an offering and a prayer at the pillars. Other buildings can be seen here too. Storage warehouses and other structures lie on the outside of the platform while the more important ones are protected within.

Further yet, behind this magnificeint temple is another, larger, hollowed out tree with a spiral staircase decorated as all surrounding it, leading up further into the branches yet still. The staircase winds once upwards upon the outside to a deck, then a great door opens to the staircase continuing inside leading further upwards. Four guards stand tall with their spears in hand, as torches flicker and burn, the light reflecting off the acorns here and there as if fireflies made their homes in the garland. This wide old tree is one of the tallest of the forest, as its branches also hang over the platforms. Cat walks hang over the platforms well hidden in the branches. Stations in the four corners aid in the overview of the lands.

"Another intrudes upon our lands. This is not a good sign," a voice spoke sternly.

Two guards in garb which reflected their status of commanders stood before the robed figure. Yet they did not acknowledge the figure was there. Apparently it was visible only to one person. One quard stood foward and spoke,

"My queen, we appologize but we did chase them off our lands." She then lowered her head in silence as the Queen snapped a look at her commander, placing fear in the commanders throat. She knew the intruders were her responsibility, yet they escaped her.

"Maybe I should replace them with you instead," the queen sneered.

Paralda was not pleased with her guard. "Dismissed!"

"Ah, yes.. We mustn't let our people become flooded with outsiders now, would we?" came from the image from the shadows only Paralda could hear.

"We have our laws. Do not meddle in our affairs," the queen retorted in her mind.

"Oh," the voice once again said as a chuckle rose from its throat. "Im sorry Paralda, but I warned you of this. Can you not see? The time is at hand."

"And when it comes my nation will be ready. Now leave," Paralda returned with a crack.

She was in no mood for games. She turned to sit down in her throne in silence, staring blankly at the walls. Her long black hair flowing like waves of darkness braided down the center of her back, she wore robes which bore symbols and the colors of the tribe which she ruled. Her eyes were afixed upon her staff as she mulled over the events, angered and frustrated as her iced blue eyes glittered in the candlelight.

"As you command, my... Queen." Then, the form slipped away into the shadows as silently as it stepped in.

She was like the milky stars in the velvet purple sky, her hair black as night. Her face and ears held a ferral beauty none could resist- moonelven in many ways, yet more which meets the eyes confuses the senses. her eyes black like two onyx spheres, no white to them at all in fact- yet sparkled as did her silver circlet like starry diamonds in the celestial skies. Such a feeling of overwhelming peace, yet also sorrow surrounds her. In the moonlight nights sky, she wore a rich white wolf fur and black leather cloak which sweetly bellowed to the ground, as her chainmaile and spirit plate armour sparkled like flowing clear waters in the cool autumn moonlight. The light breeze blew wisps of her long curled hair which reached past her waist and further still. Two purple streaks of hair with silver flecks beginning at her temples flowed down to the sides of her neck like ocean waves. Her chainmaile and black leather face mask hid the rest of her face from onlookers.

Trea Night Wolf was the daughter of Queen Paralda and sister to Palandra. Palandra did not have the same facial features as her sister, she was a quite younger version of their mother, even down to the cold ice blue eyes, and was quite jealous of her younger sister for three reasons. Not only did Trea receive the Right of Mask from her mother, but she was more skilled in the martial arts and was more gifted in looks and talent. Paralda was not happy with Trea either for her own secretive reasons, which made it harder on Trea growing up in this nation of Amazons. As they stood next to their mother they watched as their mother brooded on her throne, mask at her side.

"I am tired my daughters, you are dismissed as well," her throat moaned and without another word she left for her chamber.

Trea knew her mother to be quite the tyrant when she was stressed. Her sister Palandra glared at Trea and walked out of the audience chamber without a word yet her face said it all. Paralda and Palandra were not too pleased with the nights events, yet Palandra knew if they had been on patrol the intruders would of been dead by now. Two men from a village ,they assumed, were stealing from the merchant stores on the ground level, which was not allowed in their lands. Any intruders caught at all were either banished or killed without questioning.

Trea moved to the balcony and looked over the treeline at the twinkling stars above, the mooon almost full. In three days time She would be radiantly full and rituals would begin. She sighed a moment, wondering aimlessly about her place in this nation of women and men. She questioned her mothers hatred of outsiders. Trading on the urthean floor was allowed for the prosperity of the people, but anything more than that lately seemed wrong to her mother. She contemplated reasons for her mothers recently found distrust for outsiders. The narrowing down of allies they have sifted through in the last two years lead to the nation becoming more secluded from the outside wyrld. She sighed, raised her hood, and walked out of the chamber down the spiral steps and onto the platform towards her home, as empty as it would be. That was the place her queen, her mother, had placed her while Palandra stayed in the royal house with her mother. Another enigma which boiled down time to time across her mind. She took a deep breath in and let all of her thoughts go as she entered her hut.

A candle lit on the table meant that Treori, the Queens Advisor, visited while Trea was taking care of buisness. Treori was a kind, gentle woman who acted more like a sister and friend to Trea than anyone else in the village. Although Trea was around Treori during her adolescent years moreso than her own mother, Treori was also the head of a secret guild within the Amazon Nation. Trea sat down to find a bowl filled with fruits and a wooden mug of honey ale waiting for her. And as she looked to her fire place, a stewpot hung steaming, which smelled of venison and vegetables. She smiled and took off her cloak and mask, and began to relax for the first time all day.

This elaborately secretive guild was called The Charcoal Burners Guild. One that even the queen had no clue existed which has stood the test of time for many long years ever since Psoinists and DreamWeavers have been discovered living amongst the people of the realm. They are one of the oldest clans to exist within the realm, and are so because of their invisibility of what they actually are to the outsiders which condemn them. Those who discover a Psionist, or any living thing which they fear, immediately hunt the person to their death, for they are considered the bastardized evil of the realm. It had been known to happen only once- and Treori, if she could help it, would prevent it from ever happening again. If the name ever appeared in text it was thought that those within this guild created charcoal and burning oils for their villages. Well, someone had to do it, Trea thought with a smirk. They also needed a good excuse for the reasoning behind their masks, just as the Amazons wore battle masks- to protect their identiy, but to outsiders of the guild it was for their health. All those fumes and different strong scents, nasty after being exposed to it too much.

Trea took her place in the guild very serious, as she did as a warrior for her people. She had kept her vow of wearing her mask to protect her identity from anyone within and without the amazon nation as her fellow guildsmembers had. She was quite loyal to them, although her membership within the guild had only been for the last year since she was caught using her gifts by Treori herself. For a member to be learned of within the outside wyrld meant banishment from the guild and from their homeland or death- not by the hands the guild but by outsiders, including the people of the nation who didnt understand,if it was learned one had such abilities. Only family and loved ones were allowed to see their faces, but were not allowed to know of their existience, with the oath of keeping the information locked away in their hearts as the members themselves did.

The next day brought about the general daily activity, with the exceptions of a quarrel here and there between sisters. As the sun set, a messenger from the guild went from member to member giving the hand gesture that a meeting was to be held that evening. As the sun slowly set, and all the torches and lamps were lit, the members left town quietly and headed for a old cave just north east of the village. When they reached the mouth of the cavern they lit their Fire Staves and entered. They began to gather in a circle around Treori as they remained in a quiet muddled hush.

Oil lamps flickered against the cold stone walls, lighting the cave with a serene glow. Benches forming a circle were placed in the center of this rather large naturally hollowed stone room. Trea entered with six to seven other women and took her place on the outside ring listening to the discussion placed before Treori and members of the guild. She sat on a bench against the cave wall, leaning with her knees curled up under her cloak, a lone, fat candle lighting up the area by her side on a small round wooden table. One of the members took a bag which was by the central firepit and reached in. She took out a fistful of dust and threw it into the fire. A sharp bright spark fired the flames higher and lit the room moreso. The onlookers grew silent.

"Sisters, and brothers, thank you for coming- now that you all are here," began Treori without surveying the room.

Her robes flowed down to the floor in the dimly lit cave, rich in purples and silver symbols. The hair style she wore was short as it was brown, with the tips touched as if dipped in silver rested at the ends. Her brown eyes were looking as if her mind were somewhere else. Her focus was directed upon the central fire which glowed colors of an unnatural firelight.

"The reason why I've called this meeting is to reinform you if you do not remember that it will be the full moon in two days time-and it also will be Merchant Swapping day. We will have many people here from many realms. More than just our merchant friends. Such an event only happens once a moon as it were, so I am asking that you keep your awarenesses sharpened. Who knows what may occur during our celebration. Queen Paralda has made quite a few remarks about this event to her disliking, so it must run smoothly or we may lose this event as well. The last thing we need is complete and total cut off from the outsiders."

Trea shifted in her seat uncomfortably. Something troubled her, physically and mentally yet couldnt place what it was. She knew she had been feeling ill frequently but this feeling was a bit more. She stood to try to ease the queasiness in her stomach and moved about. Something to her felt distractingly wrong. Treori continued, watching Trea silently moving within the group knowing why Trea was up and about.



Chapter 2