CHAPTER 2

Lyndryell took a step back and blended into the forest. So perfectly matched to his surrounding was the Wardancer that a person passing within scant inches of his still form would not have seen him.

He watched the encampment and wondered for the thousandth time what he was doing among these Humans. They were loud, noisy, and dirty but worst of all, they had little respect for the land beyond exploiting it for their own gains.

The restless movement of the horses nearby caught his attention. While they were large, strong animals, they could not compare to the magnificent Elven steeds of his home. The Meadow Glade on the southern edge of the Forest of Loren, the home of the Wood Elves. It was there that Lyndryell learned how to ride almost before he could walk. The care, well-being, and training of these mounts was a community effort. Everyone had some job concerning the horses, even the smallest child had a part in their care and that was how at the age of seven summers, his feet were set upon the path that would lead him to where he was today.

He could remember it clearly as if it were yesterday and not 50 years ago. He had been in charge of a group of foals, each no more than 3 months old, helping to train them to halter. But on this day, it was time to relax and play in the pasture near the Border of Markers and dream of what lie beyond, when suddenly from a newly formed hole in the ground, came a pack of Skaven, disgusting rat-like creatures bent on destruction. Lyndryell's father and uncle had been across the pasture training yearlings and saw the menace, but were too far away to offer assistance. In desperation they spurred their mounts toward the danger. What happened next Lyndryell to this day still cannot explain. Whether it was skill, bravery, duty, fear, or just dumb luck or maybe it was a combination of all five that kept him from falling on his face. But when the Skaven appeared he nimbly leapt over the backs of two fillies to land on his favorite colt and with a shouted command at the other animals he led them to safety behind the line of warriors who quickly formed in defense to the threat.

Later, around the watch fire, after the Skaven had been defeated, his uncle would tell of the amazing sight of this young lad dancing across the backs of the foals, and that was how he, Lyndryell, son of Talion of the Meadow Glade in the Forest of Loren had become a Wardancer. Highly skilled in ritual dance and with their twin swords, Wardancers were a fierce and elite fighting group. Among those listening to his uncle's story that fateful night was Caledor, one of the best Wardancers. After hearing of the deed, he insisted on a demonstration and decided to take the boy when he reached the correct age to train with him to become one of Loren's best. But in the meantime, he would stay in the Meadow Glade and learn, and learn he did. He learned from the Glade Riders--how to handle his steed with speed, grace, and agility; from the Waywatchers--how to move as one with the forest and how to talk to Treemen and Dryads, and also how to track the smallest creature over the roughest ground; and from the Charioteers--how to pilot his chariot into the heart of the enemy and unleash a volley of flaming arrows and then return to Elven lines unscathed. Then when he came of age, he went off with Caledor and learned the ways of the Wardancers.

Time went by and after awhile, thoughts of the lands beyond the Border Markers once again began to assail Lyndryell. Before long he was consumed with the idea of leaving the forest and going wayfaring. Finally, he could stand it no longer and announced his decision to leave his fellow Wardancers. While sad to lose one of their own, they wished him well. The night he was to leave, he was brought into the presence of Orion and Ariel, King and Queen of the Forest of Loren. They bestowed upon him special gifts. From Ariel, a magical belt to protect him from his enemies. From Orion, a pair of magical swords. Then Orion took Lyndryell aside and told him of rumors from outside that could threaten the forest. Nothing was certain, but he wanted Lyndryell to be alert and watchful and to report anything unusual. Then Orion taught him the secret battle language that he was to communicate back to the forest with.

So here he was travelling as a scout with the Bretonnian army. Occasionally he would make contact with a Wood Elf troop, but thus far he had seen nothing. He turned his attention back to the camp and the rider approaching. He was tall and elegant and from the refined features, Lyndryell could tell it was Aenarion, an Elf Ranger from L 'Anguille. Though they were both Elves, Lyndryell and Aenarion had little to do with each other. Lyndryell thought Aenarion too arrogant and Aenarion thought Lyndryell too unsophisticated. Even though the two did not mingle with each other, neither did they mingle with the other soldiers in the camp. Each kept to himself and both preferred it that way.

So for now, Lyndryell would continue to watch and wait as he had been bidden by his King and hope in the meantime that something interesting would happen.