To the outside world, the Forest of Anthel Loren was picturesque.

Tranquility would fall on any outsider gazing at the forest as the calm coloring of the summer leaves slowly sawyed in a soft july wind. It was a forest where a family would quitely look upona and contemplate as they picnicked in the rolling hills of the West.

But looks can be misleading, and Anthel Loren ahs had menilina to master the complex art of deception.

A shadowy figure lithely sprinted through the forest. She moved surprisingly fast; Branches seemed to bend away from her and grant her passage only to snap back into place as soon as she passed. Fallen leaves stirred by her silent footfalls tumbled back into their resting places, earasing any trace of her passage. She was a Waywatcher, one of the Forests chosen, and Anthel Loren was helping her in any way it could. Though it was not enough, her pursuers were trackers beyond compare. They too had grown in a forest of their own. Their home was Vastly different then Anthel Loren; Maligent, and plotting. The Jungle of Lustria was unrelenting and only the finest survived. Noel burst out into a clearing and turned right. She bounded into a might Tree and almost imdeiatly melted into the shadows. In a fluid motion, she drew her bow and knocked an arrow. She did not know what these creatures were, but they would pay for their treachery. She waited several anxious moments and still they had not come. Her fell pursuers were right on her heels and they should have entered the clearing by now. Her only hint was a slight change in the wind. Anthel Loren doing all it could without giving itself away. She had an instant to react and ducted as several toxin coated darts impalled the bark which took the spot of her head only a second ago. Noel slipped off the tree and dashed into the forest, once again hoping to find a spot to lay another amush. Back at the clearing, all was quiet; a small tree squirrel sat nervously trying to ralionalize what just happened to his home. His oaken abode felt weaker. It made no sense. He simpered out and saw three black dart impeded in the oaks bark. Black tendrils eminadting from the darts, spread in all directions, slowly destroying the magnificent tree. There was the rushling sound of something entering the clearing and the squirrel twiched around to examine his homes murderers. He could see nothing. But slowly a patch of grass became bleery. As if it was out of focus. It became more and more distorted and soon it didnt look like grass any more. A small reptilian stood in its place, blow pipe in hand and camilian eyes inspecting its surroundings. Proding deep into the forest and trying to pry out its secrets. Suddenly, but of its ugly eyes locked onto the squirrel. The squrriel realkized it was looking at him and almost died of fright. He darted off to follow the Waywatcher for surly she would protect him and his nuts.

A sly smilel, if it could be considered a smile, crept across the Skinks face. With a thought, he felt is body once anagin mimicking the forest almost perfectly. This Waywatcher would not escape him this time. She already knew too much.

Skarr was only one of many. along with a team of elite skinks, he had been sent here by their Slann. They were to gather as much information as they could. The Slann had once ruled over Anthel Loren. tragedies in the distant past had taken their focus away from the area and the lesser races of eleves had filled the void. Skarrs Slann had plans to change that.

Skarr was amazed at this new mysterious forest. It was completely different form the steamy jungles of his home, yet almost exactly the same. He could almost feel it helping the young waywatcher along. It was throwing vines in his face and hinding her foot prints form him. A breeze impossible for this deep in the forest brushed away the faintest traces of her scent. It took all his might just to track her this far. If it hadnet been for that small rodant with the furry tail pointing him in the right direction, he might have lost her altogether.

Already he had lost most of his team. Almost as soon as they entered the forest, they were surrounded by a shower of flower petals. Skarrs experiences in Lustria told him that something could not be right and imedatly went on the offensive. His skin coloring worked to hide him from view and his blowgun was loaded with its toxic submuinions. His team took his lead and did the same, though one lacked the relexs to surrive. Skarrs first glimpse of a Dryad was that of one tearing his third in command in half. The twiggy figure wore a mocking expression of an elf . it was armed with only its hands, which were more than enough. It fingers were oaken spines honed to the finest of points and they easily torte through Skink hide. Dyrads were exceedingly strong. Not only apparent through the way one ripped a one of his team in half, but also through the way it through each half into two other skinks, knocking onto the ground where the roots of nearby trees did the rest. With three of his team dead in an instant, Skarr took one shot at the Dryad and plunged into the forest, desperate to escape. His short must have been a lucky one, for the dryad did not chase him. Soon after his escape, he heard reptilian screams. He felt sudden dread as he realized that he had indeed missed and that the Dyrad had simply attacked and sismatically killed, maimed, and tore through the remainder of this team. It was then that he had met the Waywatcher. He almost ran into her unmoving body. When he glanced up to see what was in the way, all he could focus on was an arrow pointed right between his eyes. She had been waiting for him. Before she could impart Death of Skarr, a primal roar ripped through the Forest, bird scattering to the four winds. The Stegadon had arrived.

The Waywatcher lost concentration for a moment and Skarr pushed her to the ground while simotanouely loading a dart dripping with death into his blowpipe. Realizing she was at the disatvange, the Waywatcher somehow escaped into the forest. Being a natural predator, Skarr did not mind. He was actually relieved. The hunt was on, and he would surly catch his prey.

Noel had run out of idea. She had been running for almost half the day. She had laided traps, set false trails, and even ran on the tree tops. But still the Skink followed her. All she could do now was hope that she could out run it. During her first failed ambush, she had studied the design of the Skinks body. Though it was that of a childs, it posseded a cold blodded strength betrayed only by the maenecely of its evershifting eyes. She figured that, due to her longer legs, she would be able to outrubn it. But she was beginning to doubt her assumption.

Just then she tripped. She was surprised more than hurt. Waywatcher never trip. Now she had no chance of escape, the skink would be on top of her any second. She got up and tried to run anyway, her survival instincts working hard. After only two hurried steps, an brach battered her down. She knew now why she had ripped. It was Anthel Lorens will. So be it, she thought. I have failed to protect the santitiy of my home, and for that this must be the price. From the ground, she knocked one last arrow, a final attempt to redeam herself. What her bow lacked in poisoned, it more than made up fopr in strength. It was taken from the heartwood of an Inner Oak Tree and took all her strength to draw. Her arrows were tipped with the hardest of rocks, chipped into the sharpest of points. Before she knew the bows power, she had hunted deer. Her first arrow from the fully draw bow had hit her mark, and then it hit the next three as it efforrelly slipped through the first deers body and continued on its deadly path.

Since that gruesome day, Noel had hunted with just a knife.

But it mattered not now. She was about to die. The skink broke through the bush and ran thowrds Noel, she loosed her arrow, but the creature nimbly dogded it. Skarr would catch his prey today. Standing over Noel, Skarr slowly loaded his blowpipe, taking pleasure in seeing the defiance in her eyes. She had caused him much pain, but she would soon pay. Noel closed her eyes, at peace with herself and ready for the indeiable. Her only regret was that she failed Anthel Loren. To protect was her sole duty and It had deemed her unfit. She waited for the shots she knew would come. For the dart to implae her chest and spread its toxin through her body, turning eanything it touched black.

Then the thump came, though she felt nothing. She gave it a moment ot work and still it would not come. She slowly opened her eyes and was surprised an angry not to find a dart embedded in her chest. Surly she must pay for her failure, but to be played with on the hour of her death was out of the question. She had served a lifetime and she at laest deserved to die an respectable death. With a scowl across her face, she drew a dagger from her belt and leap at Skarr, ready to take her revenge. As soon as she sprung to her feet, she froze. Her predator had been replaced by an enourmous, upright log. At its base, she could see a scaled hand slowly unclutching a broken hollow pipe. As she looked upon it, the hand slowly lost all its color and ended with a sickly grey appearance. Just then the log started to move. At first she jumped back, expecting the skink to gain impossible strength and recue itself, but she soon realized that the log was not a log, but rather an arm. Turning to her right, she could see it: A Treekin. Then she understood: Anthel Loren had used her as bait. She would have to remember that one. Treekin were the stuff of legend. Its body the same of a trunk and its arms crafted from the fallen limbs of only the mightiest trees. Som dared whispered that theu only exictsed when a loney spirit wished to walk among the forest like a elf. It entered a tree and gave it new life. Ripping itself from the ground, the spirit would shape the trees roots into mighty legs and it braches would form into arms. A Treekin wielded the strength of the Forest And were the ultimate protector of Anthel Loren. They formed the Last line of defence. Noel had heard stories of entire armies of men crashing into this land, hungry for shelter and firewood, only to be driven back by the might of a few of these vengeful spirits. To men, it seemed as if the entire forest rose against them and crushed them under its might.

Running from skinks Flsh back to the ambush on dryads. Corned. Treekin saves her.

Talks to a glamoreweave spell singer who tells her about lustraia and the lizard men.

Fey enchantress visits her and shows her visions of an up coming battle.