The day was drawing to a close, the suns rays slanting on the mud and wood houses of the village, imparting its last bit of warmth. Most of the villagers were wrapping up their work for the day. Woodcutters, having ventured into the forests to fetch wood, were bringing their donkeys and carts through the main gate. Gathers of clay and plants were walking back, their days work completed too. In the village the food market, a combination bakery and meat store, was putting up a sign showing the freshest offerings for sale, purchased off the hunters and gatherers that had arrived not long ago.

The day was, for the most part, uneventful. Uneventful days were always a blessing. One could get alot of work done on those days and in high summer there was always alot of work to do. As the weather changed and cooled they would need to be well stocked, supplied for lean times. A merchnt caravan was due in another ten-day, at least if it kept to its usual schedule heading into the desert. They could make a bit of spare coin selling water, food, supplies, and whatever else they could so many of the villagers were collecting and prepping for that upcoming event.

Aheric, the towns leader, was deep in conversation with Serath regarding a rundown of the day’s events. Sereth was anxious to get back to his family, he only worked the day shift and even then not every day, but it was important to pass on anything of note that had happened in the day. The moors had been quiet today, no wandering…anything. In fact the only thing that had passed the village that wasn’t one of the local inhabitants was a herd of moor ponies, small scraggly things that survived in the harsh climes. A few locals had tried to domesticate the animals, but they were too wild, or too stupid. Occasionally they were hunted for meat, but only when times were truly lean as they picked up a flavor that one can only describe as “moor.” In general they were ignored, just as they were today.

Old Autry was finishing up her last bits of business for the day; fortunately the towns ills were currently down and it had given her time to stock up. They had just had a bad run of some air and stomach sickness, bad coughs, headaches, dysentery, and she had been kept busy. Now with this down time she had to recoup her supplies. She had her two apprentices working full tilt to re-stock her various draughts of tonics—one in the brew room working the several small fires she had going and tending the various cauldrons and pots and one in the cellar, carefully recording every scrap of her current supplies. She would need to take a collecting trip soon and she needed an accurate list of what she would have to gather. She would be sending her apprentices home soon, she would work herself through most of the night crafting charms to sell to the merchants when they came. As one of the few villagers that resided outside the safety of the walls Autry had several precautions she took for night time saftey, but in general the trolls avoided her home and she had to do very litte. The wild animals she never minded and they were always welcome. It was however, vital, she get her two young apprentices on their way before dark.

Dorn too was busy; he was visiting the gardens of each member of the village. An outsider might find it amusing to see the large beast of a man so delicately inspecting each plot of earth, whispering encouragements to the crops these families relied on for food and money, but his work was always greatly appreciated. There was a part of him that missed the open road, his tasks as a wandering protector of the wilds, but all he need do was look at the appreciative smiles of the village wives as they handed him home cooked pies or hand-woven clothes or even look at his adopted son and see the man that he was becoming, though he'd only just reached his fourteenth winter. Once a week they took on the task of bolstering the gardens and it was proving to be a good time for the boy to practice the skills Dorn had taught him. Still, they would have to hurry because it was a lot of work for just the two of them and there were only about 2 hours left before the village gates would be shut and barred for the night.

Thovren Struggled under the weight of the ore sack he was carrying. Ususally the blacksmith purchased the ore he needed from the caravans. And he had enough to last a couple weeks unless a particualrly large order needed to be filled. But the Milita didn't wear much pure metal armour. Generally the only solid iron or steel objects were the weapons they carried. Leather breastplates and bracers served just fine for what they needed. But there were some days when a little more was needed.
Gowran didn't say what he needed this extra ore for right in the middle of the day. He needed someone to help carry it back with him. Thovren spent the better part of his afternoon Trudging to the only location he knew of in the forest to contain iron ore. Beside the burly blacksmith. He foolishly assumed at first he was coming along as protection for Gowran from wolves or forest predators. But as he heard the mining pick stop ringing and his name being called his heart dropped.
The village didn't have a mine but luckily they didn't have to draw on the vein to often so there was still plenty visible on the surface lair. And it wasn't TOO far away. But still. Thovren wasn't weak. He kept himself in good shape for someone his age especially. He took his duties in the militia seriously and trained as often as he could. But Gowran's sack was easily twice the size of his own and the burly man walked leisurely with it slung over his back to his small smithy. Whistling all the while. Thovren didn't mind helping the blacksmith from time to time. He preferred it to working the farm. And he hoped to pick up a few small tricks from time to time about casting his own bolt heads.
As the sun started to set at the end if the day Thovren set the heavy sack down beside Gowran's and tried not to lean over with his hands on his knees and gasp for air. Even so his breath was laboured from the arduous hike. He turned to leave, thinking his duty was done when he heard his name called again by the familiar gruff voice. “EH boy! The ore's no good until we smelt it.” Thovren held back a grumble and turned back into the smithy to help pour some of the ore into the furnace to smelt down over night.

Brisa was content working in the cellar. She was skilled at reading and writing and the detailed task of listing what supplies Autry still had on hand was a relaxing one. It required little thought and so she let her mind wander, filled with her usual unfocused daydreams of a future as a great mage and battling dragons and demons.

A small pitcher of milk sat nearby along with a sizeable hunk of bread, she snacked occasionally as she worked. Autry never let her apprentices go hungry, or unclothed, or mistreated. She was strict but very easy to work with and she took her contract as master to apprentice very seriously.

Brisa had the feeling that when Autry was young, centuries ago she was sure, that she was apprenticed to a mean master. She didn’t know why she thought that but Autry’s care with her apprentices sure must have come from somewhere. Few masters were as kind to their apprentices.

Brisa loved working for the woman and considered her a savior. She just knew that if it hadn’t been for Autry she would have been forced to be a potter. Or worse married to some dolt of a husband tending farm and mewling babies all day.

Brisa’s ledger was neat, columns nicely laid out and the writing precise as she carefully held her candle close to each labeled substance to write down what it was and then carefully used the scales or measuring ware to figure out how much Autry had left.

"Lye ier er..." The boy dug his fingers into the earth beside the large tomato plant, tiny beads of perspiration dotting his brow around the tangles of matted black hair. He wasn't sure what was more exhausting, the heat or the ritual, but either way it made for a rather miserable afternoon. "I' ra fea kanu lye ilya..." The Elvish words flowed from his tongue and he could feel their energy resonate with the plants around him, like a subtle vibration in his very core that extended so far into the natural world that to contemplate it would make his head spin. He wasn't sure on 100% of the word's meanings but he had the whole thing down cold, Dorn had made sure he memorized every word and inflection perfectly if only so he had someone to share the arduous work with. "lye ier i' atya'." The ritual was complete and as the boy's bright hazel eyes glanced around at the garden plants, the crops so many villagers relied on for food, he did notice a few of them looked quite a bit healthier than when he'd started. With a heavy sigh, Dakin pushed himself back up to his feet, brushing the dirt from his hands onto the leather breaches that were looking awfully short these days. He was sure he'd get another 'growing like a weed' remark from Dorn when they met back home that evening, having split up that afternoon to tend as many gardens as possible, and the thought of hearing it was already making him cringe.

Though he loved his adopted father dearly, the large man certainly seemed disconnected from Dakin's generation.

Snatching up his thick, oaken walking staff from the nearby patch of grass where he'd left it, the young boy spun it over one hand and set it over his shoulders and neck, letting his arms hang lazily over it. The trek back to the village wasn't a long one, he could just barely see the southern corner of the large clay wall from the garden's edge, but still his aching legs were dreading the effort. "For all this work, Dorn had better cook up the rest of those fish for dinner tonight..." With a mutter to himself, Dakin Windwalker started off down the path with thoughts of a mouth-watering meal filling his mind.

**********

Brisa was still deep in her work when she heard running steps coming her direction. She looked up startled as Autry, dragging Atrus by the arm, burst into the room.

It was only then she heard the deep “bong bong bong” of the town’s alarm bells.

Autry didn’t mince words.

“You two! You know the drill. Hide. Now.”

Her tone was calm but stern, Brisa knew that tone. But she hated the smell of wine, and she didn’t think it was likely the alarm was all that serious. Probably just a marauding troll.

“Autry” she whined “they are cramped. And they smell funny.”

Autry’s glare could have frozen a fire imp in mid flight.

“Don’t argue with me child” she said. “I have to get to the town center.”

Her voice was softer now, but far more stern and tinged with anger and something else. Autry rarely ever got angry but when she did there was no way to truely stand against it. She did not brooke arguement.

“But Autry” Brisa protested, she was never one to take a hint, “Only the fighting men are to go to the village center. Your supposed to stay with us. What can you do?”

“What I can do and what I cannot do is not your concern” Autry said evenly. Autry looked at her two apprentices. She did not let the fear show on her face. It would only worry them.

“Both of you” she said, her voice odd now. “HIDE. SLEEP.”

Brisa felt the commands roll through her bones. There was no way she could resist. Seasoned adventurers were hard pressed to resist commands from the enchantress that was "old" Autry. Meekly she walked over to one of the wine vats, climbed in, pulled the lid shut, and almost before she curled up inside she was deeply asleep.

**********

The deep “bong” of the towns alarm bells radiated throughout the village as well as the surrounding environs. It had been a long time since the bells had been rung. Recently the town had been left alone, not even the trolls wanted to try and break through the town’s new clay brick walls.

Despite this the sound was well known and everyone, men, women, and children, knew exactly what to do. Children were to drop everything and hide at the first good hiding place they could find. This was drilled into them from the moment they could walk and backed by the commands of any and all nearby adults.

**********

Autry left the cellar, leaving the door open a crack. She would not lock or spell it. The less sealed up it looked the safer the children would be. She worried about them; but they would be safe enough. Her home was well warded.

What she feared had come to pass, she was sure of it. She had warned Aheric about this. She quickly grabbed a few necessities she conjured a phantom steed, mounted, and galloped off towards the village center. She didn't go far before spotting a familiar form crouched beside the path, his ear turned to the village bells and his bright eyes darting about searching for the danger. "Dakin!" The ghostly mount reared at her mental command as her call made the boy spin on his heels and look up at her in shock.

"Widow Autry?" He replied, unable to fully comprehend the old woman he'd imagined so frail and weak riding a glowing translucent horse. "What's going on!?"

Knowing she hadn't the time to run the boy back to her cabin she simply dismounted and waved a hand in front of his face. "Sleep!" She commanded, instantly causing Dakin's eyes to shut and his body to go limp. Catching him in her arms before he could collapse, the 'old' woman looked about and spotted a large tree with a suitable hollow beneath its trunk to which she carefully dragged the unconscious boy. Laying him beside the ancient oak tree, so old the weight of its branches caused it to list to one side, she whispered a quick incantation and several massive roots came snaking out of the ground to wrap around Dakin's body. They gently dragged him into an empty space under the tree where he was instantly hidden from view,

Satisfied with her work and confident the boy could get out once her spell had worn off, Autry wasted no time remounting her horse and pressing all the harder towards the village walls.

The sound of music filled the air as dusk was approaching. Just as every other day the moment Kaya was finished with her farming chores she would be outside practicing with her mentor. Aeden. The sound of her flute melted beautifully with the magnificent sounds that Aeden would produce on his lute. Even though the young girl played every note right it still felt to her as it was a little bit off. Just not as beautiful as the half-elf's music. Aeden looked up to his student and spoke on a solid tone. "Stop. You're doing it wrong. Don't recite the notes from your brain. Music doesn't work like that. Feel them in your hearth. Connect to your inner emotions and express them through the sound of your music. Only then your music will be convincing."

The young girl listened carefully to the lecture her mentor was giving. It was not the first time that she heard this particularly lecture. Kaya was just glad that they weren’t playing a sad song. The last time Aeden forced her to play the same song over and over again until it would made him cry. Read your audiences emotions and synchronize your own to them. Then express it through the music you’re playing and you’d win them over in just one song. That would be the next sentence the half-elf would say. Easier said than done. As Kaya was about to play again the song was interrupted by the sound of the alarm bells ringing.

Kaya looked up from her studies and smiled. It was a long time ago that she heard the town bells. Something interesting was about to happen and she would not want to miss a minute of it. “Let’s go Aeden, something is happening which makes excellent song material.” As the young girl was about to rush off towards the city center Aeden interfered. The strong hand of the minstrel grabbed the girl by her collar and pulled her back. With a firm look on his Aeden looked at his apprentice and raised his voice. “Didn’t they teach children to hide when the alarm bells ring? Don’t go throw away my teachings by rushing into danger. I didn’t spend four years of my life teaching you so that you could go and get yourself killed!”

The sudden outburst of the half-elf caught Kaya by surprise. She knew the man was right and that she had no place on a battlefield but still. Everything was better than the boring village life. “Please let me go master. I want to witness what is happening and sing about it when it’s over. Isn’t that what a minstrel is all about?”
Pleading was definitely worth a try but Aeden was immune to puppy eyes and pleas of his young student. The half elf sighed and grabbed his lute and started to play. Once more his beautiful music filled the air as villagers where running around to find themselves a hiding spot. Kaya wanted to say something about why the man suddenly started to play but then she recognized the song, a lullaby. The next moment she was fast asleep.

As the half-elf carried his apprentice back to her home he wondered what to do. It was the wind that brought him here and considering the circumstances the alarm bell was probably his cue to drift off again. Aeden dropped the girl off in shelter Kaya’s father had dug under an abandoned shack near their house and left. There is an east wind blowing and Aeden preferred not to get caught up in it.

Atrus had spent the day in the teachings of Old Autry, he never minded to go out and learn more about alchemy, but as he saw it, it was unfortunate that it wasn't the only thing he had to learn. He needed to put other skills in to Alchemy, such as reading and writing. He was glad he obtained those skills from his mother almost from birth, and was also glad he has such a great master to teach him more.

Autry always cared for him and her other apprentice, which was probably the most contact he had with anyone not blood related unless it was out as an errand boy by his mother. Autry seemed like a second mother in that sort of way, as he had taken notice of how she cared for both him and Brisa as if they were her children, or grandchildren, or whatever they would be identified as with her age.

Atrus was just finishing up sweeping the ground for the night because he had attempted to create a potion that wasn't all successful. The contents had spilled all over the ground and it was his duty to clean it up because he made the mess. He never minded things like this, cleaning up after himself and his mistakes, and he was it that ever mistake made him a better alchemist than every success. He saw a lot of things differently in that way, always seeing that you'd learn more from when you messed up.

The alarm bells meant something different for Thovren than they did for the other youths of the village. This was the first time the bell tolled since he became a member of the militia himself and he didn't know whether to be excited for the prospect of proving himself alongside his fellows. Or terrified that something was threatening the village and the lives of its inhabitants.
"Gowran I have to go!" he shouted and dropped the shovel full of ore that he was working into the furnace for the overnight smelting. On his way out the door he rant to the wall where his Crossbow and case of bolt was propped up and waiting for him. He tied off the ammunition sash around his waist so the bolts were held at easy access around his thigh. He picked up the crossbow and nearly tripped in his haste to get going. Managing to catch himself and save his face from an unfortunate planting and the resulting mouthful of dirt, he tear-assed his way to the center of town.
When he arrived he noticed several of the militia were buckling on leather chest pieces, shin guards, bracers. Others were just making sure they had their swords at their hips. Thovren's father saw his son but he wasn't relieved by this. "Go find your mother!" he shouted at his boy. For all the training he was still young and like hell he was going to risk him just for this matter. There were enough militia around here that they didn't need one extra. "Find her and make sure she's safe!" maybe if me made it sound like a sensible order his boy would comply.
"No!, Mother wont ever be found until she wants to dad. When has anyone actually found her after one of these alarms until SHE wanted to come out?" He could imagine what his father was trying to do. But his place was here now. He didn't spend nearly ten years pretending to be a militia and two years actually training just to sit in a whole while the others did the work. "I'm staying with here with everyone." His father grumbled and swung his fist into the nearest wall. "Stubborn little...." he growled and to an extent, smiled on the inside at his sons word. He was proud of his mindset. But that didn't mean he wasn't sorry his boy was to big to spank for his insolence.
With that matter settled Thovren Rested the front of the crossbow on the ground and heaved the string up into place. Definatly not a weapon for the weak. With a click the crossbow cocked and waited for orders before he would load the weapon.

“Whoa, half way done.” Argurios said to himself with a relief, as he gazed upon a half of the field yet to be worked on. In the distance he saw a hare run across the field and stop in midst the crops. Argurios casually removed the sling from his wrist and put a stone in the socket. Starting to spin it above his head, he waited for the hare to show itself. Then the alarm rang, scaring Argurios he let go of the swing and the stone flew back into the work hut breaking the roof. “O hell no. Now I’m gona hear it again. I just hope that the sheep-shagger won’t find out. O right the alarm.” Argurios sprinted across the field towards his house. On his way he grabbed the axe that was standing in front of the doors. This was his moment, his day. He dreamed of showing his father he wasn’t a small boy anymore, this time he would stand beside his father, axe in hands. Running up the stairs into his room. In the corner lay his bow and a bunch of arrows. Picking up the bow and holding it to his heart he whispered to himself; “Today you will see father, the whole village will see, that I am a mighty warrior and a great bowman.” With his prayer said he rushed down the stairs and towards the doors. Just as he was about to step outside something grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him up high. “Wow there lad. Where do you think you’re going? Oh and I see you brought me my axe, how kind of you.” Raknar said putting his son, who was tiny in comparison, down in a way so he stood between the boy and the doors and taking the axe from the boys hands. “C’mon dad, I’m ready I’m old enough, let me go” Argurios plead his father knowing that it was the only chance. “No!” A cold and stern answer boomed through the house. “You are too young to have felt the warmth of a woman, too young to have a farm of your own and too immature to even wipe your own arse. Now go to the hiding place.”. “What a pig-bedder.” Argurios muffled from under his fixed look at the ground. “Yes I am, now move your arse!” Raknar yelled again and gestured with his hands as he would try to shoo away a stray dog. At first Argurios wanted to move, but then he decided, this is his day and on this day he will make a stand even to his father. “If you won’t let me pass then ill force my way through!” Releasing a high peached scream, he ran forward his hands extended to tackle the opponent in front of him.
“What a foolish lad, though he is my blood, and at least he has guts, but those of an idiot.” Raknar thought to himself as he carried the unconscious body of his son to the basement of the work hut, which was the hiding place made especially for the boy. Lowering him inside and closing the trap doors. Then he looked around, he knew he had to imprison the boy otherwise he would leave as soon as he would wake up. Taking a big heavy log he put it onto the trap doors. “This should hold you inside, till you get your strength back, which will take a while.” Turning around, with his axe strapped onto his belt, Raknar hurried to the centre of the town

The sounds of the alarm bells resonated with everyone. It was such a routine, a routine that had kept everyone in the town safe for the past handful of years. In fact they hadn’t had a death from an attack on the village in at least six years.

But as the bells rang and rang, and nothing happened people started get nervous. This wasn’t right, wasn’t normal. And soon there was a feeling of unease through the watchers. This was heightened by Autry’s gallop into the town on the back of the phantom steed. Most in the village thought Autry was nothing more than an old herbalist, the “ghost” horse made things considerably worse.

It happened fast, so fast that it was hard to tell exactly what happened. The unease that was sweeping through the villagers, the regular militia and the extra villagers that had gathered, grew to a panic. The source was unknown but soon the people, normally calm and sensible as any people in the land, were milling like terrified cattle.

A young man, not yet 20, spooked by something he did not understand or know, raced along the wall with his pitchfork. He didn’t look where he was going and didn’t see Thovren.

The haft of the pitchfork caught the lad across the back of the head, knocking him unconscious and sending him tumbling off the village wall.

Fortunately it was on the moor side, the ground below was spongy and soft. It would bruise him, but not break bones like a fall onto the hard packed earth of the road would. Unfortunately no one saw him fall and he was soon half-sunk in the spongy earth of the moor. He might as well have been dead, he was that still.

There was no time to even notice the boys absence, terror swamped the village. Autry, noticed, felt the fear and recognized it for what it was. But there was not enough time to do anything about it.

*********

Silence, pure and unfettered silence filled the village. No animal moved, no bird called, no wind rustled. All was completely silent.

The village was empty. Devoid of all people, as if they had simple up and vanished. The village however was perfect, exactly as it was when the alarms sounded. Right down to the cook fires that were still burning.

There was no sign of battle, struggle, even simple foot prints. There was no sign of a raid or missing property, other than that which was on people. Just an empty village and perfect silence.

The animals, for they were still there, were perfectly still and quiet. They did not move, they did not make any of the usual noises, and in fact unless one looked very closely they did not even appear to be breathing; as if they were afraid to break the silence.

While it was hard to tell just how much time had passed exactly it was plain that there was only about an hour left until dark. An hour left until the creatures of the moor wandered unfettered. And with the village empty, the gate open, there was nothing to stop them from entering the village and feasting on the livestock such as the chickens, goats, and cows.

*****

Brisa awoke from her enforced sleep and scrambled out of the barrel. She wondered what happened to Autry’s other apprentice, Atrus. She had seen him briefly but the sleep had claimed her faster than she had a chance to see what he would do.

Grumbling Brisa scrambled out of the cellar to find Autry. I was known when the danger was past everyone was to gather in the village square for a roll call. That was where Autry intended to head. Trotting through Autry’s house she stopped.

There was something odd. Something she couldn’t place. Then she realized what it was. Silence.

Autry’s house was close enough to the woods that birds were always singing, trees rustling, and Autry's goats and chickens were always making noise. There was none of that now.

Brisa didn’t know what was wrong, but somehow the silence seemed completely overwhelming and dangerous.

She stopped in her tracks, shaking a little.

“Autry” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Despite how quietly she spoke her voice carried in the empty stillness of the house.

****

For the others, the few that had been hidden so well they were overlooked, the silence was the first thing they noticed too, before they even moved, indeed before they even opened their eyes. Anyone who lived here knew the sounds of the woods, the sounds of the moor, the sounds of the village. All was quiet, and that was very very wrong.

The wind blew softly through the trees, the rustle of their branches was the only sound in the open moor as the sun slowly sank towards the horizon. At the base of one such tree a small hand suddenly burst from the leaves that had piled up there, it jerked about with a panicked flail before finding a sturdy root to grab hold of and with a heavy pull the boy's full form emerged with a gasp for fresh air. Dakin panted as he dragged his legs out from the tiny 'pocket' of earth and root that he had awoken in before sprawling onto the earth, his mind reeling as it tried to comprehend exactly where he was and how he got there. He remembered working in the gardens and how he'd been heading back to town when the bell started ringing. On the road nearby he'd met... Old Autry? A haze clouded his memories and he couldn't be sure it had been the old hag that he'd run into, if in fact he'd run into anyone at all, and though he spent a long moment trying to piece it together it remained a jumble.

Rolling onto his belly, Dakin managed to push himself to his feet with limbs that felt weary and cramped and it was only after he'd done a few sufficient stretches that his inner senses kicked in and he noticed the very distressing feeling that permeated the wilderness around him. Silence. Not a bird sang in the trees and no bugs buzzed over the pools of still water; it was as if the entire world was holding its breath and he could feel the... unnaturalness that had permeated into the energies of nature. Something had happened and the mystery of it was enough to send a long, cold shiver down the boy's spine. "Dorn..." He muttered to himself, brushing the tangled mess of black hair from his eyes as he forced his legs to carry him towards the path. "I've got to find Dorn..." His foot struck against something and he stumbled, barely managing to regain his balance before going face-first into the dirt. It was his walking staff and with a sigh of relief at finding something familiar to hold onto, he quickly retrieved it and used it more-or-less for its intended purpose.

It didn't take too long for Dakin to reach the wall and find them just as still and silent as the moor. Though he called out in a weak, hoarse voice no familiar face looked over to greet him and his cries went unanswered. Making his way over to the gate he found the thick wooden doors strangely ajar but before he could look inside a glint in a nearby pile of brush and weed caught his attention. As he looked with an intent gaze, stepping closer, the form of a child-sized boot could be seen beside what was catching the light, the metal trigger of a wooden crossbow. With a shout, he sprinted over as best as he was able and found an unconscious half-elf nearly buried in the soft earth. It was Thovren, another boy from the village and one that Dakin had often seen but rarely spoken too simply because they didn't share much free time. He was always training with the full time militia-men which may explain why he'd been found just outside the town's wall. 'Had he fallen from the battlement?'

"Hey! Hey, are you alright!?" He shook Thovren gently, hoping-beyond-hope that the only other person he'd found out here wasn't a corpse.

Thovren's head hurt, and it hurt a lot. He swore to whatever god could hear him that he would fire a bolt right up that mans.... He opened his eyes to a strange noise. It was dark and cold. Was this death? Did that bastard actually kill him? He wasn't in the village and he couldn't see anything. He still felt a hand on his shoulder but the lack of light coupled with the blurred vision from his headache made it impossible to see a face.
But what if this wasn't a heaven like he hoped? He expected more light and less, well less gloom. Well if this wasn't a heavenly plane who was this dark figure beside him? Mabye he was alive but this was one of the creatures who came to finish him off? Well like the hells he was going down without a fight. His hand let go of his empty crossbow and he sprang quickly. Knocking himself into the other boy and scrambling for any bolt that managed to stay in his quiver despite the fall. When he found on of the remaining bolts he started to thrust it upwards into the creatures neck when his vision started to clear. And the darkness was no so blinding as his eyes adjusted.
“Dakin?” he looked clearly puzzled.. Was this the boy who spent all his time with the druids? He remembered seeing him the odd time in the woods. Only speaking to him once or twice. “Umm...” he looked down at the bolt in his hands and more importantly near Dakin's throat. “Right, I'm really sorry about this.” he put the bolt away and released his hold on Dakin's shirt before he pushed himself to his feet. He held out a hand to help Dakin up. “I thought for a second you were one of those,” he paused trying to remember if he indeed actually saw whatever it was that swept through the town. “Things that attacked us.” he decided 'thing' was the best word for now. “I assumed you were coming to kill me”.
He sighed in relief and hoped Dakin could forgive him for that “It sounds really quiet up there” he nodded to the village on the hill. It was midnight so it was possible that all the adults were just asleep after a hard day of fighting off goblins or something. “Did we win?” he asked. For all he knew Dakin was awake for hours before he found him. He reached down and picked up his crossbow and kicked around the grass for any more of his bolts that were visible in the moonlight. “Why are you coming back to the village? I thought you could hide better in the woods than anywhere else?” He found a handful, that brought him back up to nine, gods know where the last one was. But he removed it from his mind. He was a member of the militia. He had to get back into the village as fast as possible to lend what aid he could. “Well if your awake now I advise you keep your head down. At least until we know if everyone is ok.” He recocked his crossbow and this time loaded it with a fresh bolt. Now he was ready to kill.
He scrambled his way up the hill back towards the town. When he reached the open, gate through the town wall, which worried him. If they had one that gate would have been sealed almost instantly. He held his weapon at the ready as he set about wandering the village for survivors, his fingers ready to pull the trigger and kill the first, unnatural thing he saw.

Kaya awoke into the pitch-black darkness of the underground shelter. She blinked a few times with her eyes when realized that she hadn’t has such a good night of sleep since the last time Aden played her a lullaby. “That damn half-elf” whispered Kaya as she started to remember what happened prior to her falling to sleep. The town bell rang and something was happening. Maybe an attack of orcs or goblins but the truth was she had no clue. The young girl missed all of it. For a moment she waited. Listening for any signs of trouble. But there was nothing. Just an eerie silence that made her feel uncomfortable. A silence like there was nothing above her. No village, no life stock, no birds. Just nothing, like the whole world had vanished into thin air.

Kaya made her way out of the hiding spot and moved towards the door of the shack. Through the holes in it she looked if the coast was clear. She could see the houses but there was no movement in the streets. Everything looked save but there was something off. A sudden unease fell over the girl as she realized that there was a complete lack of movement. No one was in the streets. No person could be spotted through the windows of the houses. The whole village looked deserted. After a deep breath she opened the door and walked towards her home. She wasn’t sure what to expect and hoped that everyone was save.

“Mom? Dad? Aden?” Kaya whispered the names as she entered her house. Everything looked normal. There were no signs of a fight or looting. The fireplace was still burning and the stew her mother was making was still boiling on it. The only thing the scene was lacking where human beings. For a moment she wondered if her parents had gone. Run off to safety without her or something but there was no evidence that pointed towards their departure. All their belongings where still positioned where they should. The young girl wandered around the house looking for her loved ones when she opened the door to the guest room.

The guest room had been occupied by Aden, her mentor. A mysterious half-elf that appeared out of nowhere one day and decided to teach her. Aden did not speak much about his past. He simply says that he just goes where the winds take him, a drifter he called himself. The room was empty, like Aden never had resided there. Aden’s backpack that was always standing in the corner next to the bed was gone. The room looked exactly like it was prior to Aden arrival. The only thing that was off was a book standing on the shelf.

Kaya reached out for it and immediately noticed the beautiful elfish letters. She read the title, poetry of the forest. Considering the book was written in the elfish language it was definitely Aden’s. Why did the man leave it behind? All these questions filled her mind as the girl looked through the pages of elfish poetry. Suddenly her heart stopped for a second. Somewhere in the middle was a small piece of paper. As Kaya folded it open recognized the writing as Elfish but yet it was different. It was either an ancient form or some uncommon dialect cause Kaya had a hard time translating it. None the less she could grasps the basics of the letter. It was a warning. The letter warned Aden for three foreign travelers by the name of Dessa, Yog and Yamuna. Devotees of some heathen god,"

She put the letter back in the book and walked outside. She knew her parents and mentor had disappeared and now it was time to find out if there was anyone left in the village. Every house she entered was the same. It all looked like the people had vanished into nothing. No signs of combat, violence or anything. She wandered around town and stopped in front of the house of the old hag. Kaya knew she came to the village 20 years ago and her past was unknown. Maybe she could shed a light on what the rest of the of the letter says. As Kaya opened the door she raised her voice a bit “Anybody around?

Argurios slowly started to regain his senses. In his head s whole herd of traumphnacks was ragging in his mind. He slowly moved his hands to his head. "Good this feels awful." He commented as he slowly rolled to one side. A tight feeling on his thigh. He looked at it and it was a small quiver of arrows. Them he remebered. The village was under attack, he remebered running to the house and taking to his dad, but not the knee that rammed his head knocking. him unconscious. Though the alarm was gone, something strange was in the air. Argurios tried to open the hatch. Something heavy was on it, and he was still to weak to lift it. The strength hadn't returned in full yet.

An hour had passed The fatigue had left him. His mind was calm again. Getting up into a kneeling position, he crawled under the hatch. Placing his hands and shoulders to it, he breathed deeply. In a sudden movement his muscles contacted and the previously heavy hatche opened with ease. The log flew away smashing to the ground. Argurios looked around. Beside the Loud log there was perfect silence in the village and it was already dark. Argurios went back to the house, on the floor laid his bow. Picking it up he looked around. Everything was as he remebered. "Father" Argurios called. Again he called louder. There was nothing, only the sickening silence.

He went to his father's studies, hoping he would find him there. But the room was empty. The one thing out of place was an artifact, a strange one. It fascinated Argurios and so he examined it. Later he put it into his pocket and went out of the house. Hoping he was not the only one left, he wandered trough the towns path to the center.

Thovren quickly made his way to his own home. There were none of the usual sounds of the village and that disturbed him. He slowly approached the door to his home, checking every direction with his crossbow. He hoped to find his father and mother sleeping inside. Or at least one of them inside. When he reached the door he took a deep breath, if his mother was inside she was going to be very angry with what he was about to do. His raised a foot and booted in the door, hoping that if it was a creature inside he would scare it and give him time to shoot.

His heart sank when he saw nothing disturbed. Everything was exactly how they left it in the morning. He put his crossbow gently down on the kitchen table and ran to his parents room. Their bed was still made and the water jug father liked to keep on the nightstand was still full. Being moderately wealthy had its perks. Their home was of a decent size considering the village only had 50 or so people. A few smaller luxury rooms dedicated to minor things for his parents. He ran to one such room and threw open the door. His fathers personal armoury display was empty of his weapon and armour. He hadn't had the chance to put it back after the attack. HE checked on mothers book room. Hardly a library but enough to fill a couple shelfs. She could usually be found here if no where else. But again, empty.

When he reached his fathers small study. Well at least that's what he called it. In reality he went there to have a glass of the brandy he kept hidden in the drawers and smoke his pipe without being seen. Two things mother didn't like him doing for his health and the smell it left on his clothes. He could just excuse it on reading or writing letters to old friends. Thovren caught him once when he was younger and his father winked and managed to bribe his son with an extra slice of mothers apple pie that night to keep quiet about it. He pushed open the pungent room and certainly enough, he was not doing either of those things. He banged a fist on the desk in frustration causing several items to jump and a letter to fall to the floor. He absentmindedly picked it up to put it back on the desk. He didn't notice the name until a few seconds afterword and he picked it up out of curiosity. It was from Regdar, Father used to talk about him favourably as one of his lieutenants in the old days. Father always said he hadn't heard word from him in years now. He habitually looked around, well his father wasn't here anyway. So how would he know? he told himself before reading the letters contents. The people mentioned in this were familiar, He couldn't put his finger on it but they sounded familiar. He was going to put it back down on the desk when an odd felling came over him. Why did this letter come just before the attack? and mention people who passed through the village just before the attack? It didn't sit right with him. He sighed and decided to risk his paren't ire and he pocketed the letter for now. Besides, Regdar was now the only person he could think of that would be able to help him. MAbye he could right back somehow? He moved the thought to the back of his mind for later and went back to the door. He picked up his crossbow and made sure it was still loaded. this time he didn't bother to move slowly or carefully through the paths. He did keep his weapon ready to fire just in case.

He was going to find someone in this village. Be it a resident or some forest goblin he was going to find somebody alive dammit!

Brisa had moved too slowly getting out of Autry’s house and back to her parents, and the darkness had caught her. She was afraid to leave Autry’s house now; so she had started to head to one of the rooms with a fireplace to get a fire on for the night. She was half shaking but the task helped calm her, she even got to use a little bit of magic to start the fire. Autry wasn’t there and she wouldn’t scold Brisa for showing off. Besides there was no one to see.

Autry’s other apprentice, Atrus, was nowhere to be seen…she assumed he had left or whatever had happened to Autry had happened to him. She would go and look around the village in the daylight.

Brisa just couldn’t stomach the idea of spending a night in the dark. Not when she knew in her heart, and her gut, that something was dreadfully wrong. Thus getting the fire up and roaring was her first goal, the second was to light a brace of candles and several sconces around the house. And the third task was to fetch something to eat. She hadn’t realized it but she was starving. A pitcher of milk from Autry’s cold box, a loaf of bread, and apple and a wedge of cheese would make a fine meal. She was carrying it back to the study where she had the fire when she heard a voice.

At Kaya’s call she almost jumped out of her skin. And she very nearly spilled her milk. Terrified Brisa peeked around the corner to see who was out there. She had a horrible sinking feeling it was a ghost or a spirit.

Spotting Kaya in the doorway a deep sigh escaped her and she quickly set down her tray of food. She recognized the other girl though she didn’t know her personally. Brisa didn’t really know anyone personally, not even Atrus and she saw him almost every day. People thought she was too weird, dressing like a boy, running wild in the woods whenever she could. She didn’t mind her lack of friends before, now though she really wished she had a friend. She could use one. Another known villager was the next best thing however and Brisa stood, brushed her palms on her hips, and walked forward.

“Hi” she said softly. “Get inside quickly. Its safer in here.”

Brisa all but pulled Kaya inside and slammed the door behind her. The slam of the door was extremely loud in the unnatural silence and Brisa winced visibly. Brisa grabbed the tray of food and beckoned Kaya to join her in the room with the fire and candles.

“What happened?” she said to the other girl. “Is Autry ok? Is she coming back?”

Argurios slowly walked through the town. His bow was strapped to his back, quiver of arrows on his belt. In his hand, was his father’s sling, a stone in the socket. In his left hand he held a couple of large round stones. Although the bow was a good weapon, the bow Argurios made was of quality not worth mentioning. Also Argurioss skill with a bow was nothing compared to his skill with a sling. He felt safer with his father sling in his hand. For some reason he could feel like the spirit of his father was within him, in his slinging hand.

Slowly he became more aware of the growing hunger in his belly. At first he tried to ignore it, but then he remembered his father’s word. “Hunger and sleep. Those two are the most important things to any man. Your energy comes from the food you eat and the hours you rest. If there’s a need for either of them, try to fill it as soon as possible.” Argurios nodded in agreement of his father’s words. He looked around. Slowly he moved to the first doors he found. Silently he sneaks in. The house was strange and alien to him, but it didn’t took him long to find some food. He took a sack and filled it with dried meat, cheese and oats. Knotting the sack to his side, he took an apple and began to eat it.

Again, slowly he moved outside. In the distance he could see small faint light coming from one of the houses. ‘Maybe that’s where everyone is’ He thought to himself. He began walking towards it, though he did quicken the pace, he was still careful and ready to kill anything that seemed weird. Moment later he heard aloud slam from the direction he was heading in. Fear gripped him, maybe one of the villagers was in need of help. Beginning to spin the sling, he trotted towards the house. AS he came close he thought he saw someone move to his right, but Argurios didn’t care, he was couple of feet away from the door. Throwing himself forward, he hit the doors, but because the doors were well built he just crashed into them and slumped down in front of them. “Agh! Dammit, that was a stupid idea.” He cursed aloud. Again he quickly stood up, opened the doors and entered. In his right hand was his sling, but the am was dangling like dead meat. With his left hand he was holding his right shoulder.

Argurios slowly walked through the town. His bow was strapped to his back, quiver of arrows on his belt. In his hand, was his father’s sling, a stone in the socket. In his left hand he held a couple of large round stones. Although the bow was a good weapon, the bow Argurios made was of quality not worth mentioning. Also Argurioss skill with a bow was nothing compared to his skill with a sling. He felt safer with his father sling in his hand. For some reason he could feel like the spirit of his father was within him, in his slinging hand.

Slowly he became more aware of the growing hunger in his belly. At first he tried to ignore it, but then he remembered his father’s word. “Hunger and sleep. Those two are the most important things to any man. Your energy comes from the food you eat and the hours you rest. If there’s a need for either of them, try to fill it as soon as possible.” Argurios nodded in agreement of his father’s words. He looked around. Slowly he moved to the first doors he found. Silently he sneaks in. The house was strange and alien to him, but it didn’t took him long to find some food. He took a sack and filled it with dried meat, cheese and oats. Knotting the sack to his side, he took an apple and began to eat it.

Again, slowly he moved outside. In the distance he could see small faint light coming from one of the houses. ‘Maybe that’s where everyone is’ He thought to himself. He began walking towards it, though he did quicken the pace, he was still careful and ready to kill anything that seemed weird. Moment later he heard aloud slam from the direction he was heading in. Fear gripped him, maybe one of the villagers was in need of help. Beginning to spin the sling, he trotted towards the house. AS he came close he thought he saw someone move to his right, but Argurios didn’t care, he was couple of feet away from the door. Throwing himself forward, he hit the doors, but because the doors were well built he just crashed into them and slumped down in front of them. “Agh! Dammit, that was a stupid idea.” He cursed aloud. Again he quickly stood up, opened the doors and entered. In his right hand was his sling, but the am was dangling like dead meat. With his left hand he was holding his right shoulder.

The sudden pull of Brisa came as a surprise. Kaya almost lost balance as the apprentice of Autry slammed the door behind her. For that instance the unnatural silence was momentarily disturbed by the loud bang of the door. If anybody else was still in the village, they must have heard the door closing. Kaya followed the slightly odd tomboyish girl towards the other room. Kaya came to the house to find Autry but she found her apprentice instead. None the less the young girl was happy that she wasn’t the only one left in the village. If Brisa is here then there might still be others around too.

For a moment Kaya was lost in thought. It intrigued the girl that from all the villagers only two young girls where left. She wondered what they had in common that made them to be the ones who didn’t disappear. Her first hunch was that they were both female but considering that she didn’t encounter any adult females on her path, just being female wasn’t enough. The only other real thing both girls had in common was their age. Both where still considered children and children were supposed to hide when the town bell rings. From all the people in the village the children were always the ones with the best hiding spots. If how well hidden you was is the decisive factor between disappearing and being left behind than there is a chance that there are more children still in the village.

Kaya’s string of thoughts was cruelly broken by a large barrage of questions coming from Brisa. Judging from the questions she asked Kaya could make up that Brisa had not yet left Autry’s house. She was completely unaware of that everybody had disappeared, or at least the severity of the situation. It was not that Kaya knew much more about what is going on but she had seen what lies beyond the door of Autry’s house. An empty village with no sign of anything. Now it was up to Kaya to deliver the bad news. Or at least answer the questions of Brisa as much as possible.

For a moment Kaya stared to the food in front of her, looking for the right words to say in this situation. She only knew that everybody was gone but had no clue if they where alright or why they disappeared. Only a vague theory involving a letter in an elfish dialect, 3 travelers and a heathen god. Kaya looked at the girl in front of her and spoke softly. “I’m sorry, there is not much I can tell to comfort you. By the looks of it everybody has disappeared from the village. All houses I visited are deserted. It is like everybody vanished into thin air. “ She paused for a second to see how Brisa would react to this news when she noticed sounds coming from the front door. The sound of something crashing into the door filled the eerie silence.

Kaya stood up from her seat and moved towards the door. “Stay here Brisa. I’ll go check and see who’s there”. Kaya could feel her heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. She didn’t knew who or what was at the door. It could be a creature from the Moor that had walked through the open gates of the deserted town looking for food. As Kaya opened the door to the hallway she noticed the half-orc standing in the doorway with a dazzled look on his face, like he had run into a wall or something. Kaya recognized the half-orc boy as Argurios, the leather maker’s son. The boy was bit infamous for his rowdy behavior. He often would accidently break something or hurt himself. Kaya just smiled. “Are you going to keep standing in the doorway or are you coming inside?”

Atrus could tell easily that it was getting dark outside, and as much as he wanted to return to his home, his lack of courage kept him inside, still working on the same chore that usually would have been more than easy for him. He was also scared about the fact that no one seemed to be around. He couldn't only hear his light and quick breaths, but nothing else. As far as he remembered Autry should still have been around and Brisa most likely was elsewhere and not with him in Autry's home. He stood up from the small pile that was still the left over contents of his potion, that was supposed to make the user invisible and looked around the house.

Atrus stood in his spot, trying his best to tune his hearing to hear anything that wasn't him. It was without luck and this impression told him that everyone had vanished. He did not know why it had happened, or if he was the only one still here, but fear was traveling through his mind and refused to allow him to leave the house. As he stepped forward, Atrus' foot landed in the small puddle of contents that made up his potion. He took another step forward and lost his balance, his body throwing itself forward and his face smacking hard in to the ground.

Slowly opening his eyes, Atrus looked in front of him to see a small note of sorts. He didn't know what it was, but the handwriting surely wasn't his and he knew that it probably wasn't Autry's either. Looking at the note, he examined the writing in it and what he found was strange. He move an arm forward and grabbed the note, pulling it closer to his face do he could read the whole thing. Reading wouldn't be the proper term, since it was in some sort of language that he didn't know of, but what he did read was quite odd and mysterious. He put both of his hands on the ground and pushed himself up and placed his feet under him, standing up fully and looking around to find that his eyes were wandering to the door once more.

He didn't want to go, but if there was the possibility that he wasn't the only one still there, he needed to show any others hat he had found in hopes of leading them to the right path. All of the town and villages on the note he knew about, and he was thankful that those names were the only parts written in a language that he could understand. He slowly made his way to the door and peeked out, looking around for any other signs of life.

After a minute of looking around Atrus turned back to the old woman's house and grabbed a few potions just in case he would need them at a later date. He looked around for the potions that he had made with the right combination of ingredients and lastly picked the potion of invisibility that he had made just recently. he had made more than some excess of the potion and when it came to filling a small vale with it's contents he spilling everything that became to much to fit in the vale. He had a very small amount of potions, but he had enough to at the very least get him through the village and to safety if needed.

Thovren heard the loud thump of flesh hitting wood and immediately broke into a run. It could just be a villager. Or it could be one fo the monsters that attacked the village trying to break into a home in order to get to a villager. Either way he needed to make sure whoever it was safe. And if it was a monster he needed to put it down. It came from the old hags house, that much was certain. The older house that smelled of to much spice and questionable ingredients. The door was open already. Not a good sign if he were one to fear the worst. He held the bow at the ready, his fingers shaking ever so slightly over the trigger.
He heard voices the thought. Human sounding voices. He walked as silently and slowly as he could towards the open door frame. He took a deep breath and held his back to the wall just beside the frame before spinning and bringing his crossbow up and aiming it at this short green tinged being's head. "Drop your Weapon" he almost shouted at the leather makers son before He saw and recognized a second figure I the doorway down the hall and realized that this boy he was pointing his weapon at was the leather makers boy. Kaya was the girl in the hallway, the bard girl. He liked to listen to her play the flute when he had the time, which wasn't often but he tried. Not that he would admit such a hobby to any one.
He lowered but did not unload his weapon. "Sorry about that, second time over done that so far." he said to Argurios. He moved past the half orc boy and patted him on the shoulder. He seemed to be standing up with no difficulty. "Are you alright Kaya?" he made his way down to hall to the girl. "Have you found anyone else?." He looked past her into the old hag's living room and saw a second girl, Brisa. He couldn't imagine why anyone would willingly choose to spend time in this place but that was her choice he supposed. He could see she was fine, a little frightened maybe but none the worse for wear. "Dakin found me a half hour ago or so. Other than that I'm still trying to find who I can." He was putting on a calm face and demeanour like his father had taught him. 'Never let others know your afraid or worried, because then it spreads to the ranks and the real troubles begin.' He took the bolt out of his crossbow and back into the quiver before loosening the string.
He turned around back to the leather makers son. "have you found anyone else either?"