The group numbered twenty-five, consisting of ten druids and fifteen elves. The singular druid called Denri trusted the mischievous elves no more now than he did before. Nor did any of the other druids. The elves had always been hostile, and their recent change of heart - and leadership - did not the druids' minds. The druids had connected their minds during this excursion, and spoke only one at a time. They tended to switch speakers in the middle of statements, and it took the elves a couple of days to catch on. The spell that kept their minds blended together was ancient, and required the utmost concentration from each of the druids. They had agreed to leave Lithamn on this excursion only because of the knowledge that could be gained from it.

The elven leader was now a female by the name of Loluren. The shapeshifter Jewel's attack had killed Achmagg and his soldiers, but the women had been spared. It was they who then took command, and they mistrusted male judgement after the terrible losses. The other elven tribes also took to this principle of matriarchy, and they had all bonded together in an amazingly short period of time. The druids had marveled at the twist of events caused by Jewel. Ten of the elves were women, wearing green and brown tunics, and each carried a spear and dagger. The other five were young men, who obeyed each command from any of the women.

Soon after Jewel and the crusade led by Aerelle of Montear and Friar Jaredei of Karthemon left the Forest of Mist, the elven tribes arrived at the druidic city of Lithamn. They pleaded to meet with the druids, and, they were allowed in. The leader of each tribe was allowed into the druidic sanctum at the foot of the black spire that dominated the forest bottom of Lithamn. There, the druids spoke in the singular, thundering voice, and learned that the elves, now led by women, wished for a peaceful alliance. The druids had discussed the situation at length, and decided to sign an alliance.

The pact had not been signed in the usual manner, the manner of those outside the forest, but this pact was signed in the very forest itself. Twenty druids and twenty elves had placed their hands on the trees of the forest and orally spoke their promise, while seven other druids and seven other elves cast the spell necessary to bind their words to the land. To forsake the promise would be to forsake the forest.

The trees rose high into the sky, and the mist had just cleared hours before. The perpetual mists of Mistwood were usually erratic in their appearances, except for the few seasonal mists and fogs. The mists and fogs were of no harm, but caused visibility problems. One tended to grow accustomed to the fogs over the years. The underbrush of the Forest of Mist was thick and green, containing flowers, thorns, and leaves.

The combined mind of the druids meant that no one druid could hold another secret from any other if the others needed to use the knowledge. The collective mind, whenever the spell was put into place, was known as Gehedrani. The thoughts of each druid could be picked out to the trained mind, but many of the druids did not bother to trace the knowledge. Many just allowed the thoughts to come to them, and were pleased with just that. The elves were uncomfortable with the druids, and referred to Denri as Denri, even though he was Gehedrani, just like all of the other connected druids. There was no singular identity to each of the druids in their current state, and they were all made equal. For those of them who could not cast spells, they were not able to, through the use of another's magic. Even physical strength from one could be used to strengthen another.

The mana of the forest was lush and alive. It flowed to and from trees and bushes, roots and dirt, streams and mists. Of every color of mana, green had the most vibrant feel to it, and had a wide range of capabilities, from strengthening to destruction. Gehedrani had felt all colors of mana over the centuries, and so long as one druid who had been connected to another druid who could use a second type of mana connected later with yet a third druid, then the knowledge would be passed on. The knowledge that Gehedrani sought now was ancient, and none knew of its power.

The elves had said that they found a cache of what they believed to be relics that was guarded by a magic barrier. Their magic had not been able to puncture the shield, but Gehedrani was positive he could break it. If the elves could not break the shield, and the druids did not know what it was, it must be ancient and powerful indeed. Perhaps even a planeswalker's store from millennia before.

The druids' connection to the land allowed them to hear the conversation of the elves. A young male was just whispering a report to Loluren. "Nemanal reports that the cache is near, and that Ismela cannot even test the shield's strength because the shield attacks her mind. What should we do?"

"The druids can handle it," Loluren replied. "They said that their magic is ancient and powerful. They must be able to break it. If not, then our first task as an allied people has failed."

Gehedrani did not bother to listen to the rest through the trees.

Loluren was sincere enough, but the druids had studied Rodenian cultures and conquests for centuries. These women still had much to learn. Learning was top priority to the druids, but the elves were another matter. They focused on uniting their people and peacefully imposing their new rule. The elven tribes had always been separate. They had always been jealous and hateful toward other intelligent people in the forest, especially the druids. Now they had quickly come together because of Jewel's attack. Jewel had failed in keeping safe the Sovereign Robe, it seemed, but she perhaps succeeded in uniting Mistwood. Reports had been given that the Balavans were mobilizing. If they planned to conquer La'adia or Korraan, they would then attack the forest for needed materials. As a combine people, the druids and elves would be able to fight back.

First, however, was the matter of this cache. The druids had always been taught to preserve knowledge, and honor relics from the past, and deactivating the magic barrier - Gehedrani hoped it would not have to be destroyed - would prove as much an educational experience as the items inside the cave.

Gehedrani - through the eyes of the ten druids - saw that their destination had been reached. The fifteen elves stood around a rocky cave that stood only two paces above the ground. Vines and vegetation had covered the cave, but the elves had removed all they could. The cave tilted into the ground, and the dirt of the cave looked easy to slip on, down into a black abyss. Gehedrani felt the invisible shield across the opening, and began to gather his mana. The mana of the druids ranged from all across the Forest of Mist, and each druid took a place around the opening.

The elves that could cast magic, numbering only four, interspersed themselves between the druids. The other elves - the five young men included - took places around the circle of wizards, weapons ready for any surprise. Loluren was among the warriors, and she pointed this way and that, assigning positions among the trees and brush. Gehedrani no longer paid her any attention - the eyes of the ten druids were focused on the entrance to the cave and the invisible magic barrier.

The shield tried to sap mana away from its user, but the druids were all talented in the arts of magic, and had no problem keeping their mana to themselves. The elves looked to struggle, but held their own ground also. Carefully, Gehedrani probed the barrier. The magic attacked his mind, and he quickly pulled away. Seeing no other safe way, he blasted the shield from all sides.

The attack that the druids made was only visible by the dead leaves and loose dirt that were thrown around near the cave. None of the debris went into the cave, but instead it bounced off of the invisible barrier. Instead of creating a devastating windstorm, Gehedrani focused that same spell into another form. This new form was a pummeling of mana at the invisible shield, with the strength of hurricane winds that aimed to tear the very binding of the spell apart.

The magic barrier that had been invisible a moment before was no glowing red and white as the druid's magic tore it apart. The elves, instead of attacking it, fed mana into the body that was Denri, who they took as the druidic leader. It did not matter, and the mana was focused into Gehedrani's assault. The barrier's magic tore at the druids' individual minds, threatening to break the bond, and shatter Gehedrani back into separate persons.

For a brief moment, the spell that bound their minds shimmered, but four of the druids strengthened the bond, and Gehedrani was back in place. With the barrier glowing wildly, the dry, loose dirt, and fallen leaves still did not fly into the cave. It was not the magic that broke the barrier either, but it was, instead, a metal behemoth.

The mystic barrier shattered like glass pounded with a hammer as the silvery beast struck it from behind. Not knowing what would happen if the dissipating shards should meet skin, the elves and druids scrambled away. Once again, Gehedrani was in danger of being unsummoned, but, again, many of the ten druids strengthened their spell.

The behemoth stood four paces tall, and was perhaps two and a half paces across the shoulders. The druids had read of artificers working to create humanoid creations of metal, and one such golem stood before them. The head was square, and was more coppery than the silver body. It's empty eye sockets shone with an inner blue light. There was little to no neck to speak of, and the square head sat atop a broad expanse of metal shoulders. It's arms hung like massive branches from a trunk, and cords ran from its shoulder to its elbow. Huge gears that jutted out from the golem's back turned to raise and lower the arm attached to the cords. There were no hands, but a sword instead, with two honed edges and a pointed tip at the end of each arm. The knees were connected the same way to the waist as the elbows were to the shoulders, and the legs took huge, deliberate steps.

An elven arrow connected with the metallic beast between the eyes, but the only note the golem took of it was turning its head toward the direction from which the arrow came. It swung its massive arm, and an elven woman who was too terrified or awed to move was sliced neatly in two. A druid tripped in the underbrush and was cut between his shoulders.

As the druids ran toward cover and readied their mana, Gehedrani was lost in the druid's failure to keep their concentration. Denri looked over his shoulder at the approaching golem. Kevane scrambled up a tree with low branches. Jarios lay dying on the dirt floor of Mistwood. Peolan stretched out his mind to find any nearby animals that would help them. Raman tried to strengthen the small vines on the forest floor so the beast would stumble, but the thing's feet only crushed them. Lemmos, being closest to the beast, was impaled with one of the golem's swords. Jemio watched in horror as Lemmos was thrown into the trees as the beast tried to get him off of its weapon. Nizione attacked the guardian's exterior cords that connect it's knees and hip with a branch he had found somewhere and soon ran when his first attack only caused the beast to turn. Micgel watched the whole, chaotic scene from atop a tree-branch that he had quickly climbed to. Devin, however, stood his ground and attacked the beast's head with his magic.

Denri yelled for his fellow druid to stop. Destroying the beast would be destroying knowledge. Devin sought to destroy the magic that animated the golem, instead of disabling it. Denri did not know if disabling it was possible, but he would prefer to try first before destroying it. The golem turned its attention to Devin as the druid's first attack began to pound the metal guardian's head.

Denri also noticed that three elves, all male, slipped into the cave as the golem killed the elves and druids alike. Looking for the other elves, Denri noticed that there were now more than fifteen, perhaps closer to thirty. What was going on?

Jemio and Kevane aided Devin's attack, and the golem suddenly stopped. The light in its eye sockets was gone, and it stood motionless. Devin did not stop there, and, his face set in an angry snarl, magically attacked the joints at the knees. The metal creaked, and then popped. Loosing balance, the inanimate golem crashed to the ground.

Once the golem had fallen, the other druids realized that they were surrounded by elves. Denri now counted more than thirty, and a sickening feeling tightened his stomach. The elves simply stared at them, and made no attempt to help the six dying elves and druids around the cave. Denri's first answer chilled him: the elves have betrayed and used us. Thinking of the elves that had went into the cave, Denri turned his attention to that direction.

Now five elves emerged from the cave, carrying tomes, trinkets, and precious stones - iouns no doubt. The object that caught Denri's attention however, was a clear, crystalline globe about a half of a pace wide, with various iouns decorating it. He could feel the magic pulse within it, and also felt the shield that protected the sphere. There could be no less than fifty iouns of all shapes and sizes decorating the globe, and each of the ioun's glow was refracted in the crystal globe itself, providing more light to the dimly lit forest floor.

"What are you doing here!" Loluren of the elves hollered. Denri turned his head to the noise, as did everyone else, and saw the elven leader yelling to who had to be the oldest elf in Mistwood. The woman's features were hidden by her locks of graying hair, and, what could be seen of her skin, was creased by wrinkles. She was clothed in a brown tunic, and used a flowering staff to hold her stooped body upright. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Kill them," the ancient said, ignoring Loluren.

Denri turned around and saw a group of six elves rushing at him. They were male, and each was armed with a spear and knife. Knowing he could not help himself, or any other, he screamed. His scream echoed through the forest, along with the dying wails of the other remaining druids.

Silgamar was not pleased to hear the report, and had had the elves that occupied Lithamn driven out. He was not about to break his end of the bargain as the elves had. He had promised the forest as well as the elves, and breaking the promise would be breaking the trust of the forest. He could not allow that. His brown hair and green eyes were shaded in the dim light of the tree-hut.

Measures below was the forest floor of Lithamn and the ancient black spire. A few huts for the novice druids were positioned there, and that was where the elves had camped. Now they were gone, with faeries and animals tracking them. Silgamar planned to keep an eye on them. He did not know what they were up to. Perhaps there was something specific in the cave that they were after. Maybe the males had taken over again. There were multiple possibilities, but Silgamar could not choose which one was most probable.

An alith, with it's feathered eagle head and scaled serpentine body, had slithered into Lithamn and found one of the druids who could communicate with the beasts of the forest. Keilip had informed Silgamar that all of the ten druids on the excursion were dead, and that more elves had attacked them than the original fifteen. A metal golem had been in the cave, and Devin and two others had destroyed it. The cave had been looted of books, iouns, gems, and ancient relics.

The druid's attempt at locating the elves and their loot had been unsuccessful. Faeries, panthers, aliths, and birds had been sent out, but they had had no luck. The elves had taken to hiding. Silgamar was anxious to discover what was in the cache. Was there something that the elves could use to destroy Lithamn? If he had never allowed the druids to ally with the elves, this catastrophe would never have happened. If Jewel had never killed Achmagg and his soldiers, the elves would never had made the attempt to make peace with the druids. If all had stayed as it had for centuries, the cache would never have been found, or, if it had, the elves would still not have been able to break the seal by themselves.

There was nothing Silgamar or the others could do. If they killed the elves, their promise to the forest would be broken. What would happen then? The forest would still keep its mana opened to its inhabitants. The forest would not mortally strike back. What was he afraid of? Ancient texts spoke that breaking a promise with the forest would mean the end of the natural harmony in the forest. The reasons had never been discovered, but Silgamar feared that the elves, and everyone else, would soon find out.

He ran his hands through his brown hair, and took a deep, calming breath. There was nothing he could do now but keep looking for the treacherous elves. When he found them, he would have to find some way to drive them out of the forest or further north, above what had been La'adia. If the elves were forced south into the Burning Sands and Mucklands, they would certainly be killed by the orcs and goblins. Reports had been made of goblin and orc movement in the Burning Sands south of Mistwood, and Silgamar was unsure of what to make of the situation. He could not let the goblins and orcs bother him, now, however. Lithamn, the druids, and the forest were more important at the moment.

Master Druid Silgamar was not in a pleasant mood, and the most depressing part was that he could do nothing to undo the elves' betrayal.

Loluren, former leader of the elves, had her wrists tied to her bound ankles, and tried to focus her attention to her current predicament. Marizna the Ancient had somehow taken command of the Allied Elven Tribes while Loluren was with the druids, and had reinstated the men to power. While Loluren had lived three hundred years, Marizna had lived nine hundred. She was near the end of her life, and had been considered dead for some time, but at the moment she was in power.

The druids had been slaughtered at the cave, and the ancient treasures had been taken. Loluren had seen none of it, but was instead taken by two elven men and tied and gagged. At least now she could breathe without a cloth in her mouth. She wore only a simple tunic, and had a few bruises from trying to escape the arms of the guards.

She was in a crevice created by branches of a tree, and if she were able to climb the small ridge, she would fall hundreds of paces. Her chains were of metal, and she knew no magic. Her strength was not sufficient to break them, and she had only tired herself out before while trying to break them. No food or water had been brought to her since she was placed up in the tree the previous day. She was not familiar with the part of the forest she now found herself in, and suspected that she was northwest of Lithamn, perhaps in the strip of forest connecting the small southern Mistwood to northern Mistwood.

Loluren did not know what Marizna wanted, if she wanted anything, and did not know why she was being treated so poorly. She had only helped unite the elves. She did nothing that could be seen as unlawful, unless Marizna had some reason to side with the men. Loluren suspected she would find out soon enough when Marizna decided to tell her. If Marizna or any other elf ever can to visit or retrieve her from her treetop prison.

The day dragged on, and Loluren could not bring herself to sleep, in fear that if an elf came, he or she would ignore her if she was sleeping. She had to stay awake and alert. Wet, cold mist fell, and Loluren pulled her head to her knees in an attempt to stay warm. Night began to fall, small puddles of water from the mist formed in her hollow, and she longed for someone to bring her food, light, and warmth. Believing her fears that no one would come for her, Loluren wept aloud.

Morning came, and Loluren finally gave into the darkness of sleep. Her sleep was dreamless and emotionless. Time was nothing, and she didn't even feel the staff poke her ribs the first four times. When Marizna poked a fifth time, Loluren's eyes popped open and looked at the ancient elven woman. She was dressed in a green dress decorated with blossoming flowers and vines of different colors and types. Her graying hair was drawn atop her head with the help of more vines, and a huge, red flower rested in her gray loops. A terror grew in Loluren's stomach, and she feared what news or judgement the woman was here to bring.

"Marizna," Loluren said, bobbing her head in recognition, her voice shaky.

"Loluren," Marizna replied in the same tone. "You must be confused at the circumstances, and I believe that it is my duty to explain. During your little parade with the druids, I took it upon myself to come out of hiding and tell the others what the cave held. Had I known you planned to break the seal, I would have revealed myself to you. I could not allow the druids to find me for personal reasons, and so I presented myself to Cerline, who you left to rule in your stead.

"I must say that you women know nothing about ruling. The men have always ruled, and, as my first bit of . . . advice . . . I insisted that the men be restored to power. My suggestion was taken seriously, and now Kenha is the leader of the Allied Elven Tribes. I am sure that you meant no harm in your decision to ban men from authority, but ruling does not suit you women. You have been followers for too long."

Loluren wondered how much threat or demand was in Marizna's suggestion, but the woman kept speaking, so Loluren listened. "The cave held powerful artifacts from the Age of the Planeswalkers. The druids could not possibly be trusted with the relics. There are, no doubt, truths to be found inside the volumes we found, and it would be best if the truth be left alone. I have taken it upon myself to protect these relics, and that is why I had you placed here. I could not let you know where the relics are."

"And why not?" Loluren asked.

The elder woman glared at her lack of respect, but answered nonetheless. "If anyone but me knows where they are, it is easier for others to learn."

"By you knowing where they are, you could read those books and use those magic relics."

"But I will not."

"Maybe you are lying. Do you plan to leave our people again and live as a hermit, hoarding your knowledge?"

"I will stay with my people now, and advise them. There are elves in the northern Forest of Mist, and perhaps they will join our alliance as well."

"Our promise to the druids of Lithamn and Mistwood has been broken because you killed the druids," Loluren sneered.

"What will the forest do? Mana will not be unreachable to us. We can still control the plants and animals. In time, we will have out mantises summoned again. You are superstitious. The druids have helped us reach a goal. Now that we are an allied elven people, we will flourish."

"And you follow Achmagg and the other's beliefs?"

"Which are those?"

"That all non-elven peoples are barbaric."

The ancient woman smiled, wrinkling her cheeks even more. "Perhaps. But, than again, they are. I am an opportunist, you see. I have hidden myself away waiting for a time to return to my people. The druids pretend to know the forest, yet they limit themselves to their city. They have their purposes, and must be used, not killed."

"But you had them killed."

"They had served their purpose at the time. Had I allowed them to live, they would have tried to gain the artifacts from me, and I have already explained to you what would happen."

"So what happens to me?" Loluren was determined and serious in her question. Part of her dreaded the possible response of death, but she did not wish to chat with Marizna while she could be safe on the forest floor among her own kind again. She hoped that her people accepted her, unless Marizna had convinced them all that Loluren was a traitor.

"I believe that you will not cause too much harm if I allow you to return to Kenha's people. You will, of course, take your former roles and care for camps and cooking. I will allow you to be Chief of the Hearth, as you elves oddly call the position these days, and all will be well."

Loluren wondered how much power Marizna had over Kenha, but decided it best not to ask. The elves of Mistwood were in troubled times, and Loluren believed that she was the only one who realized it.