The trees had burned. All around the Red gnomes' camp, charred husks of ancient trees were all that remained of the forests at the base of the mountains. The flag of the Red Mountain, a red triangle set against black diagonal lines on a white background, whipped proudly from every tent. Ale and food were in full supply, the gnomes revealing in the blood they'd split.

A cluster of small villages, their inhabitants slowly creeping farmlands up the mountain, were now the dust beneath their feet. Survivors lay bound in a tent in the far left corner of the camp, arms and legs bound. Hostages for later. They had found many Werrals in the area as well, and their fate hadn't been as pleasant. Their remains hung from great posts the gnomes erected in the ground, strung up, bodies' open, insides exposed to the world.

Dra-lin stood looking at a map of the area in the command tent, surrounded by five of his most trusted officers. Ra-gor was there, his spear till dirty with human and Warrel blood, along with Hur-na, Far-than, Gra-sin, and fat old Mor-hath. The General mused in silent thought at their next plan of action.

"The Northerners are still weak, sir," Gra-sin stated, his exquisite wooden pipe blowing out clouds of smoke, "I suggest we move along the mountains for the time being."

"That would push us into the Emerald dragons' territory. They are not a force to be taken likely," Ra-gor retorted, "We should move south, along the coast."

"If we move towards Tora, we risk being cut off from our allies by the distance," Mor-hath wheezed, patting his hands on his stomach, "The reinforcements from Solithar and Nurrad will be here in a weeks' time. Their help will be essential"

"We have enough troops now, Mor-hath," Gra-sin hissed, "The longer we stay idle, the longer our enemies will have time to prepare against an attack."

"Yes, but one should never rush headfirst into battle. The odds were in our favor here, but these were simple folk, not the warriors we will encounter further south. And what of Tora? The city has never been taken and it is the heart of western Deltora."

"We will deal with Tora when the time comes," Dra-lin announced, arms folded in concentration, "For now we must have a stronghold away from the mountains where the forces can gather and be supplied. The best option seems to move south as Ra-gor suggested. We do not have the strength yet to contend with Emerald dragons, and they will never enter the territory of the Amethyst."

The others nodded, bowed and returned to their respective tents. Dra-lin took a cup of ale and drained it quickly. The eve of war was upon them. He had no worries about taking many of the cities and villages along the western coast, but Tora was another story. The city's magic repelled evil itself and Dra-lin knew they would not be able to step foot inside. Tora's magic was too strong. And yet, it had to be dealt with eventually.

Removing his armor and weapons, he lay down on his cot in the far corner of the tent. Sleep overcame him soon, the sound of his soldiers celebrating lulling him to darkness.

Everything was darkness. He stood in the shadows themselves, unsure of where he was.

Dra-lin…

The gnome looked around for who had spoken, but the world had nothing in it. He wondered what manner of dream this was, where voices called out to you in the darkness.

Dra-lin…Do you serve the call of war?

He paused, "I am a soldier, stranger. It is what I know."

Do you serve the shadows?

"What do you mean? Show yourself!"

Tora is in your mind, Dra-lin of Red Mountain. You see its demise, but do not know if it can be done.

Dra-lin was shocked, unable to speak. This was no ordinary dream. This was something different.

"Do…do you have a solution?" he asked.

A faint, dark laughter surrounded him, filled with malice and rage, chilling him to the bone.

The next morning at first light, Dra-lin summoned his officers to his tent. Sleep still filled their eyes, but they stood at attention as the General looked down at the map once again.

"My friends," he began, "Last night I was given a vision. A vision of our victory. Of the Red gnomes as the lords of the west. It will be certain, so long as we follow the plan given to me."

Mor-hath was the first to ask, "And what are these plans?"

Dra-lin grinned, brow furrowed, "We shall attack Tora. And we shall level it to the ground."