There it was again, a painful burning sensation that tingled along his bark-like skin. This time he would not ignore it. Something was dreadfully wrong.

Concentrate on the matter at hand.

The small seedling would need nourishment and must be placed away from the traveled paths else this birthing would be for naught. It was small and should have splintered in his rather large hands. The giant was a veteran of the birthing; he would not break the fragile life that was in his palm. Grunting, another giant forced his way past the Elmwood. He knelt beside his companion with respect etched across his face. Both of the giants wore brown garb and earth tone attire. They had faces that were weatherworn by the wind but the one who held the seedling looked oddly akin to a giant tree. His features were less rounded and even more rugged than usual.

Two delicate figures stepped into the clearing. One garbed in robes of white, lined with green moss. The other was garbed in robes of green and a shimmer seemed to surround him.

“Captain, something is amiss,” came the flowery language of the elven folk. The darker complexion of the second elf was followed by his deeper toned voice,

“Smoke rises from the east Wild Bear. I yet have had a moment to look into it.”

“Want you look into then,” snarled back the giant. He had to be careful else the birthing could go horribly wrong.

Rumbling in anger the giant continued, “Captain go see soon as birthing over.” The giant motioned to the younger giant and gave a resounding, “Whoof!”

One large cub stepped into the clearing, glancing at the trio with innocent eyes. Two wolves loped into view and took their places by the robed figures. The creaking sound of branches splintering was followed by the upheaval of earth, as a less animated tree was lead by a robed figure. Already they could sense that one of the younger rangers was making his way along the river path towards the source of the smoke.


“Timbeeeeeeerrrrrrr!!!!”

He raced into the forest and skidded to a halt. Flames! Everywhere he turned his face there were flames, consuming the shrubbery and the toppled trees. His vision began to blur and face drained of blood. The <fire> of these trees was slowly ebbing away. He could feel and sense them painfully screaming for mercy.

Find the source. Be rid of it.

Jugynheim hefted his frost-rimmed axe and rushed forward. He leapt and hovered for a moment above the scorched ground as if floating towards his goal. Once again his feet touched the smoldering soil and he cornered a blazing tree. His eyes quickly scanned the surrounding area…

Where are my warders!?

A loud crash turned his attention to the two figures to his side, one of which was a small gnome being thrown into the ground by a short, stubby creature that was most definitely a dwarf.

=====================================================================

Korthalos couldn’t form the words necessary to disrupt the bones of the dwarf. His fingers were too tightly wrapped around his neck. It was difficult enough to gasp for air in this smoke but with the fingers around his throat is was impossible. The dwarf picked him up and tossed him against a nearby tree, the blaze of the fire blistering his wrinkled skin. Just as an axe came whistling down towards his chest, a lithe figure tore into the leg of the dwarf. Midnight Shimmering of the Open Wind. Korthalos had raised the wolf into maturity.

“Jusabrow, tikulatha motura jelistia!”

The forearm of the dwarf twisted irregularly and a thick snapping was heard as his bone pierced the outer lining of his sleeve. Just as a deep scream bellowed from the throat of the dwarf, Korthalos noticed a blazing tower of smoldering branches and leaves descending upon him.

=====================================================================

He couldn’t react. So quickly did the <fire> of the tree diminish that it was beyond his control. Jugynheim rushed to the fallen dwarf and took his head off in time to roughly grab Midnight Shimmering of Open Wind and toss her to safety. Just as he turned to see the tree falling on Korthalos there was a shimmer in the air and Korthalos faded into nothingness.

Jugynheim leaped, his hands blistering as his fingers touched smoldering earth. He rolled upon impact just as the fiery tree smashed inches from his shoulder. He rose from the ground quickly and began to lumber after the black wolf. Into a clearing he came splinters from the falling trees striking him against his face. Soot and ash kept him from seeing clearly so he reacted on instinct, ducking low and coming up just as a sword swooshed above his head. Loud prayers were heard in the distance and a deep chanting as he hacked at the figure, felling him as warm blood washed over his axe-hilt. He bumped into something, and turned around in time to block the blade of another axe. Reversing his grip, he dropped the blade and lifted it up again quickly…coming face to face with…

Cronin.

“Move!” Cried the Cronin, as a gout of flame fell with the impact of another tree.

“Where otha Warders,” yelled the Captain. His face was streaked with blood and ash and he could barely see through the rising smoke.

“Paelnor felled, hacked by dwarf. Thief is out there also. Last I saw, giving chase to Suilvanum.”

“Healer is busy with Bastier, dragging wounded animals and healing in the clearing of valley. Nothing looks well for the time.”

Grunting, the Captain unsheathed a hand axe.

“Hold ground here. Captain return soon.”

Jugynheim darted away from Cronin and came across four lumberjacks. Eyes glazing over with rage, the giant leapt into the midst of them and swung his blade with all his might.

To this day the lumberjack barracks are filled with stories of the Massive Grizzly with a freezing bite.