Acta chapter 1

A call to arms
When the blood of elf and giant combine
A war to wage
From our parents past sin
Four heroes to come
When the feared path is shown
But one can only win
By finding the warriors heart


                                 Chapter 1

The wind blew intensely, trying to strip the trees of their foliage. Clouds rushed in from the east and west, two huge armies waiting to clash. The temperature steadily dropped, forcing people and animals alike into their homes. The village horns sounded the signal to close the gates against the wind. Shiran, small and lithe, rushed from the meadow where she had been painting, trying to beat both the gates and the storm. If the water hit her canvas it would ruin weeks of work.

The gates were almost shut when Shiran arrived, thanking the gods she had made it. It would have been a cold miserable and dangerous night outside the gates. Lately there had been attacks from the Orc holds in the mountains, as well as werves, tiny serpentine creatures with a reputation for unmitigated violence. Not common in the area for hundreds of years these creatures were being forced out of their dark homes, and began migrating towards Helvian, the village where Shiran lived with her younger brother.

Shiran smiled and waved to the men at the gate. As usual most of them blushed. Light hair and eyes from the elvish blood on her mothers’ side made her exotic, but her smile is what caused such a reaction. Full lips slightly curved into a permanent pout made her smile all the more beautiful. For a long time Shiran would not smile at anybody but her brother Ethin. Not because she was shy or angry but the reactions embarrassed her. Only Ethin seemed to see past the smile to who she was.

Shiran smiled wistfully at the thought of her brother. Ethin was a large man, (his father was half giant) dark of hair and eyes, but with a quick smile. He was often taken advantage of because on his quiet unassuming demeanor as well because he was very timid for fear of hurting someone or something with his great size. In the end her brother was one of the kindest and most loved people she knew. He was her hero the one person she looked up to and respected the most.

Still walking quickly Shiran headed to the home she shared with her younger brother. The rain looked to be building into quite the storm; if she didn't hurry her work would be ruined.

Rounding the corner to her home she stopped dead. Men she had never seen before wearing odd armor stood on either side of her door. The conical helmets showed them men from the south, but the emblems on the octagonal shields she had never seen.

As she watched, three men escorted her brother out. He did not seem to be being coerced, but her heart still jumped into her throat. Dropping her painting and supplies she ran towards her brother. One of the men looked towards her pounding footsteps, and looking faintly surprised, shook his head and immediately she was paralyzed. Not a light stop but like running straight into a brick wall.

Halting her brother and the other men, he walked slowly almost cautiously towards her. Since she couldn't move she took the time to observe him.

Tall with a very dark complexion, with long dark hair gathered in a braid. The oddity was the bright blue eyes. Though he was wearing loose robes, Shiran could tell he was well muscled. Though this man dressed as a scholar might, he was no stranger to violence. She would need to be careful around him.

Closing her eyes she breathed deeply, clearing her mind. In the place of the chaos she formed a picture of a serene garden, full of flowers and life. When she was completely calm, she'd reached into the earth of her garden, down into her hidden spring of power. Immediately she felt a response, an overwhelming sense of joy, followed immediately by surge so strong she could barely contain it.

With all her strength and concentration, Shiran beat the power back into its box, pulling only what she needed out. Using the power as the hands she couldn't move, she probed the extent of the barrier holding her.

It was not large and actually very weak, obviously made to hold someone who could not use the power. She opened her eyes to gauge the distance between herself and her captor. He was only about five feet away, still being cautious. If she broke the barrier now he would have time to react, so Shiran waited.

When he was about arm’s length away she used the power to push out on his shield funneling the power on a point about center to his chest. The pressure built quickly, puncturing the barrier and rushing like an arrow through glass as it hit the man right in the chest knocking the wind out of him and leaving him gasping about twenty feet down the road.

Pulling more of the power she lashed it like a whip at the other two men with her brother, knocking them unconscious. Without a breath she pulled more and smashed the two men outside her door into the wall with enough force to crack the bricks.

Feeling light-headed after such exertion of the power after years of no use, she turned toward her brother. He met her with a stunned and confused expression. After all she had hid the fact that she could use the power from everyone save their mother, who had trained her in its use.

As stunned confusion turned into amazement, Shiran smiled to herself. Ethin was safe; she had stopped the men from taking her precious brother. Taking a deep breath she started toward Ethin and everything went black.