impenetrable wall. Even as she plied her bow with deadly skill, Gaerradh saw one of the orc shield-knots blown apart by the lightning spell of an elf mage hidden overhead. Thunder boomed in the village clearing.
'Beware the war priests!' Morgwais called to the elves in the redoubt.
Gaerradh caught the guttural sound of orc shamans chanting spells. She held her fire, searching quickly for the spellcasters. Few orcs ever studied wizardly magic, but priests devoted to the dark and savage gods of their race often accompanied the warbands. She spotted one fellow, a chanting war priest with the ceremonial eye patch worn by the servants of one-eyed Gruumsh. She aimed carefully and shot him through his remaining eye, cutting off his chant in mid-syllable.
Other chanting voices shrieked and fell off as priests fell wounded or dead. But enough of the clerics lived long enough to cast their spells together. Barking out the last words of the chant, the priests gestured and shouted.
Dense white fog filled the forest floor, rolling away from each shaman and covering the orcs below from the elves' arrows. Gaerradh peered at the ground below, but all she could make out were roiling clouds of white mist, out of which rose the black boles of Rheitheillaethor's weirwoods like pillars in a great hall. She glimpsed movement here and there, dark shapes flitting below, but nothing she could shoot at.
Morgwais joined her in leaning out carefully to study the fog below.
'Damn,' she whispered. 'That was a good idea. These orcs are far too clever and determined for my comfort.'
'Do we have any spellcasters to dispel the mist?' Gaerradh asked.
'Yes. But they anticipated our attack from above. They'll have a counter ready. Still, we should try. We need to see them to shoot them.'
Morgwais dropped back down to the main platform and started to give her commands.
Flickering orange light filled the forest as a dozen burning globes of fire appeared above the canopy and streaked down toward the elves' fighting platforms with a rumbling crackle of magic. Gaerradh glanced up to see one of the great spinning orbs heading straight at her perch.
'Fireballs!' she screamed.
She threw herself down to the main platform only a heartbeat before the globe struck where she had been kneeling and detonated. The mighty weirwood trembled in the blast as a huge gout of scathing red fire blasted through the elven house, shattering light screens and snapping the smaller limbs. Gaerradh turned her face away from the blast and cowered beneath her cloak. Pain seared her exposed limbs, and the impact picked her up and threw her back down to the wooden deck.
Elf voices shrieked in pain around her. One of the sharpshooters with whom she'd shared the post toppled out of the tree, wrapped in flame like a living torch. He plunged into the mist below like a meteor. Fires burned in many of the hidden tree blinds.
They used the orcs to learn our positions, Gaerradh realized. They got above us and watched us fire at their allies, and when they spotted our blinds, they threw their spells. How many spellcasters are up there? A dozen? Maybe more?
The orcs below whooped in delight at the burning trees and elves' screams. The weirwoods didn't burn easily- they were guarded with protective spells, and were not naturally inclined to burn anyway-but shadowtops were a different story, and several of the towering giants were alight despite the winter weather and the damp.
'Get the spellcasters!' Morgwais cried to the elves nearby.
Her hair was singed, but she was otherwise fine, her spells sufficient to protect her against the fiery blasts. The noble wood elf recited a spell of her own and hurled a crackling sphere of blue light into the high branches overhead. The orb burst in a scintillating wave of lightning, illuminating the sinister, shadowed forms of winged warriors descending toward the village. A pair cried out and crumpled as Morgwais's spell burned them out of the sky, but others eluded the energy wave or shielded themselves with spells of their own.
Gaerradh took aim on another darting form illuminated by the blue lightning and fired, but she missed her mark. The arrow buried itself in the elf-demon's thigh instead of its breastbone. It spiraled wildly, but then regained sufficient control to drop down behind a tree and get out of her line of sight. She looked around for another target, and she heard a ragged roar of battle cries and oaths from below her.
The orc warriors scaled the trees of the village, hurling grapnels up into the branches and raising clumsy siege ladders against the trunks of the larger trees. The battle-mad berserkers swarmed up out of the mist, foaming at the mouth, red eyes rolling wildly as they roared their challenges. Quickly Gaerradh shifted her aim to pick three orcs off a ladder in a neighboring tree, though she could hear orcs scrabbling and cursing as they climbed her own.
'Sound the retreat!' Morgwais snapped. She started to cast another spell, only to break it off abruptly and duck low to avoid a bolt of green acid hurled down by one of the winged sorcerers above. 'We can't fight off both assaults at once.'
One of the other elves seized a hunting horn at his belt and sounded three short blasts. He was killed an instant later by a heavy iron spear hurled up from the orc ranks below.
Morgwais didn't wait on her warriors. She quickly worked a spell that covered the tree-hall with a spreading cloud of gloom, and she ran out across the well-hidden catwalks linking the tree houses together. Gaerradh followed her, groping in the darkness. She knew that other elves would be abandoning their platforms, likewise concealing their escape with clouds of mist or walls of gloom.
'What now?' she whispered to the lady as they slipped out of the village.
'We flee,' Morgwais replied. Her eyes gleamed with ire and determination. 'We retreat, we skirmish, and we delay until we have the measure of these demonspawn. And we call for help.'
'Lords and ladies of Evermeet, the queen!'
The Dome of Stars rustled softly with movement as the council and the assembled observers stood up and fell silent. Seiveril rose from his seat and turned to face the doorway as Amlaruil swept into the Dome of Stars, Keryth Blackhelm a pace behind her. A sun elf lord wearing a tabard of emerald blue emblazoned with a star and sword emblem accompanied them. Seiveril did not recognize the fellow.
Amlaruil was dressed in a simple dress of green, her only concession to formality a plain silver fillet on her brow. In all the council meetings he had attended, Seiveril could not recall being summoned so hastily, or seeing Amlaruil appear in anything less than royal splendor. It struck him as an ominous sign.
'Please, be seated,' the queen said. She looked around the glassteel table. All the council was present except for Emardin Elsydar, the high admiral, who was currently at sea and could not be recalled in time for the emergency session. 'I thank you all for coming so swiftly. I am afraid there is grave news from Faerun.'
Seiveril frowned and studied his fellow councilors. Most wore expressions of puzzled concern that no doubt mirrored his own. Never in his memory had the council been called on only one hour's notice. Elves were deliberate folk and did not make a practice of trying to meet untoward developments with thoughtless haste. He looked across the table at Lady Selsharra Durothil, who simply studied the queen with narrowed eyes, her expression cold. It didn't matter what news Amlaruil had for the council. Lady Durothil was gathering herself for a confrontation, possibly for no other reason than the fact that Amlaruil had seen fit to summon her at short notice.
'An hour ago Lord Imesfor arrived in Leuthilspar, bearing a message from Lord Duirsar, the High Elder of Evereska,' Amlaruil said. She indicated the sun elf lord who had followed her into the Dome. 'I will let him present it to you.'
'Thank you, my lady,' Imesfor replied. He stepped forward and faced the council. 'I am Gervas Imesfor of Evereska. I have the honor of serving my people as one of our Hill Elders. Forgive me if I forego courtesy in order to quickly state my message: Evereska faces a new attack. An army of orcs, ogres, giants, and other foul creatures is marching south through the Delimbiyr Vale, heading for the Shaeradim. They are accompanied by a number of demons and other fiendish beings, including a mighty legion of creatures that seem like demon-tainted elves. We have also heard from our allies in the High Forest that another army has invaded the woodland seeking out the villages and havens of the wood elves. The wood elves have fought several skirmishes against the invaders already, and have asked us for as much help as we can spare. But with an even mightier army approaching our city, we fear that we do not have the strength to aid the High Forest while defending our own people. The war against the phaerimm two years ago claimed far too many of our warriors and mages. We know that Evermeet
