Chapter 5: Message from the Front

Music: Jiraiya's Theme

Trebil Sloren galloped through the forest as fast as he possible could. I should be coming up to the observation post soon, he thought. That youngling better not be diving into any trouble without me. If anything happens to him I'll wring his scrawny neck! Trebil gritted his teeth. After the clerics had treated him!

Trebil came to an abrupt stop at a rock formation. Yep, this is the place, he thought. He lifted up one of the freestanding rocks and squashed the giant bug lying beneath it. The rock formation shimmered and was replaced with a giant oak tree. A large platform encircled the upper portion of the tree trunk. A rope ladder stretched down from the platform to the ground. Two horses stood nearby, tethered to stakes in the ground.

Trebil grabbed his reins and approached the great oak. Suddenly, a loud siren blasted "Intruder Alert! Identify yourself! Intruder Alert!"

These damn mages, thought Trebil. Them and their bloody spells. Do they want to trumpet our presence to the enemy? Trebil attempted to soothe his agitated mount. He covered his ears to shut out the racket.

After two or three more repetitions of the alarm, the siren ceased. A different voice boomed from the heavens, "Prepare yourself!" Trebil recognized the voice and groaned. Out of all the recon teams to come across, why did it have to be this one?

Just then, the air in front of Trebil shimmered and a soldier wearing a bright yellow cloaked robe apperated approximately three feet off of the ground. He promptly dropped to the ground with a thud. The mage quickly got up and assumed a defensive posture. "I am Yassir Glanchovian!" the mage shouted, "State your business or be vaporized! Yeaaargh!"

"Would you shut off that damn racket!" yelled Trebil back at him.

Yassir smiled and snapped his fingers, and the alarm shut off. "The password!" Yassir demanded, "State the password!"

Trebil removed his hands from his ears and sighed. "The cumquat crows at midnight," he muttered.

"AhhhhAA! You pass! Congratulations!" cried Yassir exuberantly.

"I don't have any time for your stupid antics," growled Trebil as he started to climb up the rope ladder. "I have urgent information for Praetor Hoskuld. I need you to link me to command."

"Of couuuurse!" cried Yassir. "Information is my specialty!" Yassir muttered a few arcane words and apperated on top of the observation platform. He missed the ground by a good three feet and fell for the second time.

"Burn me Yassir, but why do you use that damn spell?" asked Trebil as he hauled himself up on top of the platform. "You'll miss the whole tree someday and get yourself killed."

"Ha!" retorted Yassir, "That is nonsense! Nobody can kill the number-one sneakiest mage! Not even myself!"

"Enough fooling around, I've got to talk to command," snapped Trebil.

"Alright already, alright...sheesh," replied Yassir as he rummaged through a backpack near the ladder. "Just let me get out my scryball XVII...aha, here it is!"

Yassir sat the orb on the floor of the outpost and gestured for Trebil to come closer. "Don't be shy!" snapped Yassir, "This is an important matter, right?"

Trebil hesitated. "Well, I wouldn't want to busy you," said Trebil cautiously. "Where's your partner? They could link me to high command instead."

Yassir sat in front of the scrying ball and began weaving arcane gestures in the air. "Oh, he's sleeping right now. He doesn't like the daylight; I wouldn't want to wake him up."

"Too late," rumbled a voice from the shadows.

Trebil turned around, surprised that he had not noticed the second mage. He was hiding in the shadow of the tree trunk in between Trebil and Yassir. Unlike Yassir, this mage was very pale, and had a grim expression on his face. Like Yassir, he wore the standard mage armor, but his magecape was a pitch black. Trebil wondered how the mage was able to hide in plain sight. As an imperial scout, Trebil had been thoroughly trained how to see through arcane illusions. But he hadn't sensed any illusions after the rock formation illusion was dispelled.

"Forgive me," continued the gravely voice. "My name is Grim. I am...assisting...Yassir at the moment." Yassir ignored the conversation and remained focused on the scrying ball. "Unfortunately," continued Grim, "I am not very skilled in the art of scry. Yassir must do it." Trebil groaned.

"I'm just about ready!" sang Yassir. "Stand still!"

The pale blue flame inside the scryball burst into a flame, nearly enveloping Yassir. The flame did not seem to generate any heat, and Yassir calmly continued his arcane gestures in the wick of the flame.

Trebil braced himself for what he knew was coming next. Sure enough, a similar blue flame burst around Trebil and his skin seemed to slither up and down his body. Bloody magic! remarked Trebil to himself.

Yassir halted his arcane gestures, but the flames continued to consume both of them. Slowly, Yassir's appearance morphed into a tall, imposing figure, decked out in a Praetor's full ceremonial armor.

Trebil descended on one knee and averted his eyes to the ground. "Praetor! I have urgent news from the front. A massive Gaul army will soon be crossing our border. I would estimate that there are over forty thousand troops."

"Please rise, Centurion" beckoned the Praetor's image. "Forty thousand, you say? Have any other scouts confirmed the movement?"

Trebil rose to his feet and shook his head. "No, Praetor. I came here as quickly as I could. There was one other scout with me, but we were separated. If it would please the Praetor, I ask for leave to search for my comrade."

The Praetor's image smiled. "Permission granted," said Praetor easily. "Under the usual circumstances I would require a second report to confirm the evacuation of civilians. However, I trust your word, Centurion Sloren." Trebil bowed in acknowledgement of the compliment. The Praetor continued. "I will keep in touch with the other border scouts as you search for your comrade. You have done well, Centurion. Dismissed." The flames surged around Trebil, and suddenly they were gone.

Back at the observational post, Yassir was sitting on the ground with his back propped against the tree trunk. His left hand held a book and his right hand laid on the scryball. He sensed a tingling sensation in his right hand that indicated the end of the transmission. "Oh, so you're done already?" asked Yassir absent-mindedly. "That was quick. Whatcha talk about?"

Silence answered him. Yassir looked up and saw that Trebil was nowhere to be found. "Crap! I hope I didn't trap him in the melchinor's messenging chamber for an eternity. Oh well." Yassir shrugged it off.

"No, you didn't," rumbled Grim. "You just missed him leaving. We must smell."

Yassir paused for a second in shock, and then looked up from his book. "Wait a second. Grim, did you just make a joke?"

Grim's normally grave expression twisted slightly into a smile. "I hope you're not rubbing off on me."

Yassir burst out laughing.