For three weeks Maar's secret encampment was plagued by undetectable enemies. No supply wagons had arrived in over a moon, and although mages or soldiers found no signs of enemies, most everyone who left camp never came back. Occasionally hunting parties would come back successful, and these saw no ill signs in the forest, but most everyone that was sent out for scouting or hunting missions just disappeared. Men who offered to go steal food in the countryside never returned. Most of what was scrounged together had to be given to the mages to keep them strong and able to direct the energy from the forest into their illusion-spell; this left the average soldier even hungrier, and as the days passed men began to go mad in the struggle between their fear of the forest and the hunger in their bellies. It was then that they received the signal. It was finally time to come out of hiding and march on Ralendor.
"Sketi!" Skandranon spat as he read the excitement on the soldier's faces. "We have only gotten three mages- and that was by luck, and ¼ of the soldiers. They may be tired, but as soon as they get into the countryside they can restore themselves on pillage. We need more time!" The Wyrsa to the side of him sniffed, and hissed. : Pack leader, they will be gone by tomorrow.: Although Skan could not communicate with the Wyrsa using words mind-to-mind, they could communicate using emotions. The Pack leader sent an image of a swirled black-orange; a troubled, questioning attitude.
: They are planning to leave the forest, once they are out in the open we will have no advantage against them; they will kill us easily with bows and arrows, like those two that they caught in that clearing .: Skan sent a mental image of what this would be like, and the Pack leader's thoughts rippled in an orange-red; angry, but wondering what to do about the situation.
: We have instilled fear I them for the last moon, and it is time that we apply that fear as much as we can. We must strike tonight; we can't let them leave the forest alive, or all of our previous efforts would have been a waste.:
The night of their jubilant announcement to come out of hiding, the woods were no longer just sinister. They became openly hostile. All night the men were kept awake by eerie calls in the woods and barrages of rocks and nuts falling from the treetops above. When men started going missing when they stepped from the fires to relieve themselves, the mages set up a barrier that nothing could penetrate. But they couldn't keep out the sounds. The howling, screeching, hissing of strange monsters and the screams of their comrades filled the night.
Skandranon watched the men wearily. After being kept up all night they were clearly shaken and tired, but more than anything they wanted to leave the Pelagiris and never turn back. So, he watched them don their armor in the cold morning air and prepare themselves for the three-day march to the edge of the forest. They could pick off many of the 600-odd soldiers with time, if they could scatter them, but the Mages were keeping the men disciplined. Skandranon knew that they still had 19 Mages, and after last night's show they would be working hard to keep all of the men completely locked-down with protection and barrier spells. : Fine, let them waste their energies now. They don't realize how deep into the forest they are, and we have time to wait.:
And so it commenced. For three days and two nights Maar's secret legion passed through the forest with little difficulty. There were no deaths in the night, no signs of threat, and during the day the troops traveled safely under the protection of the Mages. But there was one problem; there was very little to eat. Perhaps they assumed their Mage energies or large group scared off game, and that this section of dry forest sustained few edible fruits and roots to begin with. Whatever they assumed, their frightened minds succumbed all too easily to the assumption of security. As for the Mages, with little to eat their energies waned with every passing candlemark, and the Mage-Barriers became smaller and smaller. All that Skandranon and the Wyrsa were waiting for was for them to drop completely.
Skandranon paced along a huge bough above that night's chosen campsite. Although the Mage barrier was impenetrable to the physical, Skan watched it anxiously through mage site. The soldiers might not have known it, but they were within a day's march to the edge of the Pelagiris, and Skan was likewise nearing the end of his opportunity to stop them. If they reached the countryside tomorrow, Skan would be forced to turn for Ralendor first thing, and abandon all people within the path of the bitter and hungry soldiers. Luckily, troops from the East Pass may reach the city in time to intercept them, but what could they do to protect those living in the countryside? Images of the atrocities at Lin'shala flashed before his mind, and he grated his beak in frustration.
He watched one of the dim white blips, which was a Mage, sitting on a log and looking thoroughly exhausted. If only he could get them to drop the Mage Barrier tonight, the Wyrsa and he would have a good chance of surprising at least some of the Mages. Then a previously unconsidered option came to him; couldn't he use scrying to convince them a little more forcibly? Skandranon almost dismissed the thought outright; sure he had tricked a sick deer once or twice, but taking on the mind of a powerful Mage? By doing this Skan was leaving an open door, and the Mage could easily rip his mind to shreds, kill him outright, or possess his body.
But as another candlemark passed Skandranon simply didn't care anymore. He had to try. He alerted the Pack leaders; : Get ready to go for the Mages, either that barrier is coming down now or I want you all to abandon this pursuit by daybreak.:
Although the barrier would not allow magic or physical things to pass through it, the mind could not be stopped as easily. Skan concentrated, honed his mind into a point and slowly passed through the barrier. He went for the weakest looking mage and quietly, so quietly, began to whisper into his mind; : You are exhausted, aren't you? Keeping that barrier up day and night for those soldiers? And so little food... Aren't you drained? You are hungry, so hungry. Nothing is of threat here, shouldn't you take a break? Aren't you tired?:
Skandranon dared not breathe as he uttered the words in his mind voice. Every part of his being was concentrating on making his mind voice the same color, texture and sound as that of the Mage. Trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. : Its time for a rest now, its time for a rest now...: Suddenly, the small part of his mind that was still conscious to the world around him alerted him to change. He quickly pulled his mind out of the Mages in time to see the barrier shrink a little more; one Mage had stopped contributing his energies. The other Mages had clearly noticed this too, and an argument soon erupted. Skandranon found the one who was most abject to letting down the barrier and began to slowly, soothingly put doubt into his mind. : He is lazy. You have to be careful. What would Marr say if you should fail? But you haven't seen any danger, and you are very close to your goal. Can't the soldiers watch themselves for just one night? They are here to protect you, not the other way around.:
Skandranon began to see the success of his trickery as the loudest Mage began quieting his arguments. After only a few more words of discussion the Mages seemed to come to an agreement. And then, in one wonderful moment, the mage barrier dropped. Skan held his breath and clamped his beak to keep from shouting out in happiness. Luckily the Wyrsa had no such problems containing their emotions, and with their goal so close, they patiently waited in the brush for the Mages to sag into sleep.
About half a candlemark later, Skandranon crept on his belly behind one of the Mage's tents. The moon was barely visible above the thick tree canopy above, and a light wind masked whatever clumsy steps he may make. Wings pressed close to his body, he froze, and listened. The rustle of a Wyrsa to the far right of him, the breathing of a sleeping enemy Mage. Skandranon filled himself with all of the hate that he felt towards this man, towards this army. : How dare they try to sneak up on Ralendor, how dare they try to kill Urtho? I will show you the fury of a Gryphon, I will show you all the pain you have caused me.:
Battle-rage pumping in his veins, Skandranon leapt from the ground and, talons extended, slashed the tent with one swipe. The Mage began to turn in his bed, began to realize that he was being attacked, but it was too late for him to defend himself. The Gryphon took one strike at him through the darkness and ended it all.
One scream escaped from a tent to Skandranon's right, and the sounds of soldiers approaching became unignorable. Skan labored against the air and propelled himself into the sky in time to avoid enemy blades. He spotted a Mage in his nightclothes among them, and he gained what height he could in the treetops. He pushed himself off of the trunk of a tree, catapulting himself at the Mage, and he slashed him along with several soldiers as he barreled by. He landed in a roll and twisted behind a tree to avoid singing arrows, before disappearing into the darkness. Shouts and cries echoed from the camp as murderous shadows of Wyrsa twisted between trees and slinked out of sight.
After hisses and screeches reunited the Wyrsa far from the camp, Skandranon was happy to find that they were all unhurt. Skan took a quick look from the shadows and found that the men were in a state of panic, and that no Mages had survived the attack. After the Mages were killed, their energies and those of their broken spells begin to settle around the forest, and Skan did his best to gather most of it up. The Wyrsa then descended on the magically charged spot, and thirstily began absorbing the energy. To Skandranon's mage-site he saw the Wyrsa transform from a medium yellow glow to a radiating white-yellow of amazing health, speed and strength. The Pack leader approached him and mindsent an image of the energy and the released livestock, as well as the men, along with the rippling-yellow of contentment. And Skan knew why; the soldiers had depleted all game within leagues of where they had been camped, and the energy and livestock would sufficiently help restore their lost resources. As for the soldiers, in the morning they began making a retreat East back towards the lands of Marr. But the trip was long, and the Pelagiris could be hazardous; this time Skandranon made sure to arrange that the last survivors of this battle would not make it back to their commanders alive, and the Wyrsa were happy to help.
Skandranon began to make his long flight back to Ralendor. He was looking forward to a warm meal, the company of Kessrah, and the calm of knowing that at least for now, things were safe. :And who knows, maybe old Captain Lornrie will have something to say about my accomplishments, huh?: "Ha!"
Kessrah may have been the last living member of Skandranon's original family, but he would soon forge a wonderful and famed life for himself in the armies of Urtho.
As for Marr, he never heard a word from his secret Northwestern army, and no attempt was made on an invasion of such again; it was as if they had been swallowed up by the Pelagiris forest itself.