Two days had passed, and with them, any hopes of calm had vanished completely. Serenwilde was now at a full frontal assault, swarming like an army of angry ants over Faethorn and Ethereal Glomdoring. The Night Council only had a small warning, a glimpse from Kaervas as he sat in his nest, before the attacks began. At the moment, Xenthos and Shayle were standing in the middle of an uproar within the Night Council chambers, trying to speak over the incessant voices that polluted the air with their outrage.

"Enough!" Shayle screamed, throwing her hands up and releasing enough Night glamourie to force those about her to shut their mouths. She glared at the faces around her, her normally calm and detached demeanor long since frazzled like a rope of hemp that had seen its last day. They all watched her, and she could feel their loathing wash over her in waves. All right, she chided herself. You have their attention. Now make something of it. Xenthos did so instead, leaving Shayle to gather her wits and try to calm the storm that was building itself up at the heart of the Glomdoring Forest.

"The Ebonguard forces have already seen to the rear of our defenses," he said, as if making a statement about the weather. Shayle always admired his calm approach, especially when it came to war. Even though she had seen her fair share of battle, she never grew used to it. I don't know who would or could, she thought as she looked to Shamarah and Druken, who were even more tired and baffled than she was. Her heart softened at Druken's normally gleeful face, its smile and laughter lines traded for dark circles that sat sulking beneath his eyes with a pair of pursed lips to match. By the gods, she thought dismally, looking away with a sense of guilt. "Yeralih, what do you propose the Blacktalon do at the moment?" Xenthos asked, bringing Shayle away from her guilt, like a shadow garbed savior, and back into the council room.

Yeralih cleared her throat, though she said nothing. Her crow-like eyes glistened with madness, and Shayle had always thought, secretly, that Brother Crow gave both a blessing and a curse to his followers.

"We have already bound ourselves to what land is still under our control. Though, the follows of White Hart have made quick and short work of any land outside of Ethereal Glomdoring," Yeralih said, a cloak of crow feathers giving off a sickly black aura that clung to her. Xenthos nodded and turned to look at her, making her throat and heart fall into some nether region of her stomach. "Don't you dare," she hissed into his mind, putting as much vehemence and as much power into those three words as she could without harming him. Xenthos flinched beneath her glare, as if she had reached out and slapped him. "Love, you know that we can't force the Serenwilde forces back without the Shadowdancers," he said soothingly, not daring to push her for anything while she was in this particular state of mind. She could feel the eyes of the Night Council gnawing hungrily at her face, knew that the moment she showed signs of weakness or failure to act for the greater good of Glomdoring, they would come crushing down on her like a cloud of plague. "I will not allow you to use the Shadowdancers as targets or as fighters. Most of them are young and inexperienced. It would be like sending children out into a battle field!" she replied to Xenthos, using enough Night to give him the visual of what he wanted to ask her to do. He closed his eyes, and she knew she was damned to make a decision that would condemn far too many to an early grave. Tears stung at the back of her eyes, forcing her to turn away lest she fall to her knees in guilt-ridden sorrow. Druken and Shamarah stepped forward in her place, using themselves to shield her from the ravenous stares of the Night Council.

"We will call upon the Fae of Mother Night and assist in any way possible," Druken and Shamarah said in unity, each of them building mental shields around themselves that not even a telepath could pass. Heads nodded and talk continued, Xenthos setting up plans and leaving Shayle to exit the council chamber with Druken and Shamarah walking behind her.

Her mind felt heavy, as if she were carrying the lives of those that would sacrifice themselves to keep Glomdoring safe. They caused her spirit to falter, her heart to burn with anger at what the Serenwilde forces were doing to her nerves and to her people, and amongst the chaos that swirled within her, she stood in the middle of it all. Mother Night, please give me strength, she prayed quietly, making her way to Rowena with neither Druken or Shamarah saying a single word.

Rowena looked up from a black cauldron that sat before her and let her piercing stare fall on Shayle, as she approached her. Shayle looked up, her eyes red from the strain that sat in her mind.

"Shamarah, Druken, please gather the Shadowdancers into the guild hall. Have them meet outside of my office," she said, as Rowena put her arms around the Queen of the Night. They both vanished, Rowena and Shayle, leaving Shamarah and Druken to do as they were told. It didn't take long to gather the faithful followers of Mother Night, for they had either been in the guild hall to begin with or close enough that they were able to hurry to Shayle's call. They all stood outside of the Guild Mistress' office, the young wide eyed and the more experienced Shadowdancers sullen and quiet.

Shayle stood in her office, Rowena facing her from across the room. Neither of them had said a single word to eachother. They didn't need to. They both knew what was to come, and they both knew what the consequences were going to be. Silence hung in the air like a blanket of choking smoke, but neither of them seemed to notice. A shadow rose from the center of the room, swarming and building in a cacophony of voices until Viravain finally appeared from within. She first looked to Rowena, who bowed deeply, and then to Shayle, who managed a bow of her own.

"I know your heart is plagued with guilt, my daughter," Viravain said softly. "But Mother Night does not forget those who sacrifice themselves in her name and in the name of her, and my, forest." Shayle closed her eyes, releasing a few tears that drew themselves down her cheeks and splashed down onto the hardwood at her feet. She felt empty, as if someone had taken away her soul and replaced it with a shoddy replica.

"I know, Lady Viravain, but that does not ease my heart nor my conscience," Shayle replied, taking a deep breath and using the sleeves of her robes to wipe away her tears. Viravain smiled for a moment, a smile that was sincere and knowledgeable. Rowena watched them both with a hint of sorrow in her thin and drawn face. Shayle nodded and turned around, not seeing Viravain place a hand on Rowena's shoulder. They both vanished in a swarm of shadows, leaving Shayle to confront those who stood outside her door. She stepped out from her office and into the crowd of familiar faces that stood watching her.

"The time has come that we take up battle for the glory and the safety of Glomdoring," she said, letting the power of Night cascade out about the room and into the spirits of her Shadowdancers. "For many of you, this may very well be your first battle and your first war. I pray that you fight bravely in the name of Mother Night and the Lady Viravain." Gods be with you, my friends. And forgive me for what I am about to do, she thought despairingly, feeling a lump rise in the back of her throat. "Each of you will be taken into one of the two covens that will be forming. Most of you have not yet mastered your powers as children of Mother Night. If you are a healer, you will remain with the rear defense and heal those in battle. If you are a student of the Night's curse, you will draw your hexes into the ground at the forefront of battle and hurry to rejoin the coven that you were taken into." Shayle looked to each of them, seeing faces that she knew may very well not return. She pushed that thought from her mind and continued speaking.

"For those of you who are able to call upon the very anger and rage of Mother Night, you will be taken into the first coven and preparing the ritual of the Terror Coven. For those of you who are not able to do this, you will join the second. Are there any questions?" No one raised one, and Shayle knew the time of battle had come to them. She nodded her head to Synl, who gave her a grave look before he turned and began ascending to the Master Ravenwood Tree and into the very heart of the be-damned war. Shayle watched them all leave, nodding to Shamarah and Druken, who both gave her a look of utter sadness before they, too, vanished up a spiraling staircase.

Outside, the Shadowdancers gathered at the base of the towering Ravenwood Tree and joined hands in a circle. A thundering reverberation resounded throughout the Glomdoring Forest and well outside it, forcing beast and traveler to cease what they were doing to look towards the dark forest. Redcaps, barghests, sprites, and other assorted fae swarmed out of the boughs and branches of the trees around the Shadowdancers, joining the shadowdancer who called them for aid. Lightning cracked the night sky overhead, pouring out over the Glomdoring Forest as nature itself gave the call to arms. As if heralding the apex of events, at the last streak of lightning the shadowdancers that circled the Master Ravenwood Tree vanished from sight.

They emerged into Ethereal Glomdoring to see Shayle staring off to the north. Shadows slithered about her, hissing and screeching as their mistress waited for the first wave of the battle to commence.

--==--
A figure stood perched in a tree, his stark white eyes staring at Shayle intensely from a distance. Madness, complete and unbridled madness, burned at its mind and in its eyes, screaming in a fury of voices that fought suicidally to over power the others. Sweat poured down the figure's hooded brow, his lips curling up into a twisted smile that revealed half-rotten teeth that were the color of rotting skin. Its hands went about the tree it crouched in, nails that were not only long but also lethally sharp scrapping down the bark to leave the same markings a wild animal would leave.

Far off in the distance, the war had begun and the battle was far, far from its end.

Just a question, why would people from Glomdoring be at all sad before going into battle against Serenwilde? Even if they were to "sacrifice themselves," it seems you've forgotten something: nothing matters but Glomdoring.

Gloms are not emo. Kaervas is a bard. That is all.

True, the resounding theme of Glomdoring is "Nothing matters but Glomdoring", but at the same time, you have to ask yourself the question, "What goes through someone's mind as they prepare for war?" This is a full scale war, and not a battle. A character who is simply 2-D is not a well-developed or explored character. To give them weaknesses, such as doubt, anger, despair, along with others, makes them unique, believable, and 3-D.

Interesting story. Since I presume you are taking creative license with most of the story, I won't offer any advice there.

However, our druids are the Blacktalon, not the Blacktalons. Common mistake. Makes my eye twitch every time, though.

Oops! Fixed. Didn't know that the Blacktalon was used as both singular and plural. Thanks for letting me know. ^^

Glomdoring isn't in the midst of a full scale war with Serenwilde? Hmm, I thought they were. No, there aren't raids 24-7, but that's because most of us aren't griefers. Really, the "3-D" truth about Glomdoring characters (especially the leaders, one would think) is that nothing matters but Glomdoring. If Glomdoring's safety is not the primary concern of any member of it, then they aren't good members. Tru stori.

EDIT: In other words, I think Lusternia is in too much of a constant war-zone for any non-pacifist to really logically get upset before the (presumably) start of a war.

EDIT2: And as Ialie noted in IRC, "Night be merciful" is an...interesting choice of words.

Fixed the Kaervas mistake. ^^ Yeralih added and Kaervas withdrawn.

To say that the truth, universal at that, for all Glomdorings is a strict regime of self-sacrifice for the glory of its structure isn't 3-D. 3-D, as any literary instructor would confirm, is a character who is explored to the fullest. Though it is true, and I have no doubt that you are completely right for a group of Glomdorings, there is always the underlying thought, always the unasked question, and always the part of a character that should be explored in order to make that character unique and plausible. By 3-D, I mean not of the social thought, but the aspects of the character that would otherwise not be known or seen by the reader. ^^

I'm 99% positive that the leaders of Glomdoring adhere to the most basic principles. No offense, but it seems like you've written the story and then just added some important names in, without thinking much about the characters' existing personalities. This was made even more apparent by not knowing Shamarah is a man, and replacing Kaervas with Yeralih without a second thought...

Though you do have at least one thing right: Shayle's the boss. :P

That's assuming, and in making an assumption, you're not adhering to the definition of the 3-D character. If you would like to continue discussing this, please feel free to message me. I'd be more than happy to discuss the plot indepth with you and why I chose the situation and names that I did. As for the "Night be merciful", I wasn't sure what a Shadowdancer would use. I'll have to ask Shayle next time she and I discuss her character. ^^

Thank you for the input though. Very appreciated.

I think discussing it here is just fine, unless I've managed to insult you or something. Anyway...

Ok, let's pretend that the leaders of Glomdoring are "3-D", as you put it. They still wouldn't be openly sad-faced to their peers when a battle/war with Serenwilde is imminent. And "Night be merciful," really, is another example of your fabrication of things to fit your story. Glomdoring/Night/et cetera...not a merciful concept. Hell, Glom's even called "the forest without mercy" or something along those lines. I understand that this may not be intended for a Lusternian audience, and it's fine for those of us who don't know anything about Glomdoring and its people. But for those who do, it's a bit of a kick to the teeth, because you're basically posting things that cannot happen to progress the story.

Well I love the story! Very well written and I'm not entirely certain, but I might've giggled at the Shamarah bit. Snickered? Chuckled? Hmm. Nah, I giggled.

I think it's meant to be a story, not things the actual characters would do (that is, she's taking her interpretation of things. She hasn't spoken with me about Xenthos' beliefs or impressions, for example).

I don't know-- take it more as a fiction based upon fiction, instead of fact based on fiction. Sure, there are discrepancies in how our characters would actually act-- but hey, there are discrepancies in my story about Rowena / Brennan, too. Just don't take this as canon (it's not meant to be, as far as I'm aware).

You are very correct, Xenthos. This is not canon. Simply fiction based on fiction. If it weren't, I have a feeling Viravain's player would be driving like mad to Michigan State Univ. right now, with an angry mob carrying pitch forks and torches. O.o

'K, I'll do that. It's fine, once you explain it like that. :P

Though I still feel sorry for Xenthos snoring away with Shayle being obviously bored after their "encounter". >_>

Oh no! >.< She wasn't bored. I don't think I portrayed her as such. Just overwhelmed with more thoughts. >.<

I apologize to both Xenthos and Shayle if that is how it came off. o.O

I was waiting for the hot Druken/Shamarah love scene. What kind of etc. etc.

Let's try to keep this PG-13. >>

Gag me.



And, just to note-

You pegged Druken pretty well for the most part. He and Shamarah rarely ever talk, and I'd probably have subbed Akrzrael/Urazial in for him in that regard, but it's a cool story. Druken isn't a very chipper person, either, but I suppose it's good for the story! I can't wait to find out what happens.

Might as well keep Kaervas and ignore the timeline issues of who is the current Blacktalon guildmaster (the Celest treaty wasn't much in jeopardy when he was Eye, as I recall). Otherwise the fictional dynamics of the Shadow Court are suddenly even more askew. In military decisions, Yeralih generally defers to Pentu or Xavius. She's also not particularly polite, these days.

Your choice, I suppose. I said I wouldn't comment!