Choice Results at the bottom of the page. Goodluck!

Silent as he returned back to his chambers, Khorasan slept the rest of the night fitfully, and awoke early in the morning, the Legion Quarters a steady hum of activity as warriors readied themselves. The steady sound of blades being sharpened, added to the noise of guards talking about rumors of giants, while out in the corridor villagers lined up to see the commander, who judging by the faces of those that left, was not in a pleasant mood.

+5 HP.

But Khorasan had other things on his mind, such as rejuvenating his depleted energy. Fingers folded behind his back to avoid rumpling his robes which he had meticulously cleaned, he headed back out, and passed Reyner in the hallway. The young officer he saw, rubbed his spine, and cursed soldiers that did not hurry as Khorasan slipped back out into the streets.

The road which ran through the village, much busier than it's ever been with hundreds of orcs gathered from the countryside, wearing travel-stained clothes, and carrying the last of their possessions on their backs. Those that he passed by in the streets, bobbing their heads down towards him, and creating an open space as he strode west. The news of his recent arrival, and the need to evacuate, spread like wildfire, until even the remotest outreaches of the border were hauling sacks filled with their livelihoods, or rolling in on wagons overflowing with belongings. The King's Guard that tried to build order from the chaos, a thin line of warriors that were stretched as they tried to settle disputes, and speed up those too slow to move. The word that an army was on its way, caused an air of tension to fill the air as many cast looks over their shoulders.

Khorasan who knew all too well how much more they should be afraid, did his best to avoid their questions, before he stopped in the middle of the road where it was quiet and secluded.

The suns that rose high into the sky, high enough that he closed his eyes. The energies he felt in the air, stirred into focus as he began to draw magical energy through an ancient art, the elven called Awakened Sleep. Whereas Khorasan had always seen it as a different kind of awareness, where all his senses were sharpened, and he could project his mind outward.

The flaming points of light that appeared in his mind's eye, were the lifeforms that represented everyone, and every person with slight variations in color for warriors with hues of red, light green for farmers, and for the children a bright white which he imagined was due to their innocence. Although to his surprise he could see two touched by darkness, while further down below him, Gregor was a deep fiery blue.

Here in this new sense of awareness, he could convert the energy that flowed through him into mana, mana that would be needed for spells. And right now he feared he would need every spell in his arsenal. (Distance and time can harm your health.)

Choice 1. Send your spirit North to the mountains?

Mind adrift as he drew power into himself, Khorasan floated north towards the snowy capped peaks of the mountains, the huge natural rock formations, something of a sight to behold with its rigid spine that cut through the world. The snow-capped peaks that jutted into the puffy white clouds, a glorious array of orange hues in the dawning sunlight as colorful mellow-hearts drifted through the sky with him, dipped their wings through the breeze, and burned a bright gold.

The land itself, a rich and fertile country with abundant wildlife that raced below, forests that stretched for miles, and rivers that made its way back out to the sea.

(Push further. 1 HP.)

Body weakened a little, he ventured further ahead, and saw one of the ancient ruins that dotted the ancient sites of Orkeylium, a relic of a past war, in which every town, village or city had been fortified against attack. The war that had progressed for over half a hundred centuries, breaking the land into one of a dozen different factions and orcish strongholds that not only fought each other, but the goblin tribes that poured through the Great Divide, vengeful ogres who longed to reclaim the mountains, and vampires who saw an opportunity to annex their realm.

-1 HP.

(Return to your body.)

Heartbeat slowed, he turned to go back, when something caught his eyes, flashing in the distance.

Wary of such dangers as traveling too far in this form, he floated up higher into the sky, and had to bite back a curse. The black flames that hove into view, sank his heart, and made him want to tug at his beard fitfully. So much for having six days to prepare. Still it would not do to leave without knowing how many enemies were out there.

(Push ahead. 2 HP.)

Body straining against itself, he pushed himself to go a little further, and counted each of the bands that roamed the countryside. The black flames that appeared like swarms of locusts, converged together on the village.

-2 HP.

+1 Morale.

(Stay 2 HP.)

By his count there were at least one hundred, or more coming from the south-west.

-2 HP.

+2 Morale.

(Continue Leave.)

Sighing heavily at the thought of having to fight so soon, he double-checked their locations, but with so many breaking up into smaller warbands, he feared it would be an almost impossible task to defend against.

Head shaking at having to break his connection so soon, he released the flows, and gazed around at the people that were still packing up, and hurried off to find Thoradar. Gregor would just have to wait a little longer.

+10 Mana.

Move onto the next Scenario.