The Garden
A flash of sun light as the canopy above is momentarily moved by the exit of something large. The flap of wings, slow and strong.
Down below where the tall trees spring from the fertile soil, the thick foliage of the Garden is still.
Impassable thorn filled thickets, curtains of hanging vines and ferns as large as houses fill every available space, the overall green of the Garden only broken by flowers of every shape, colour and size imaginable.
Flights of shimmering, long billed birds flit this way and that, chasing iridescent insects and butterflies as big as plates.
It's glorious in so many ways.
That is except for the gruff voices and the sound of cutting.
On the edge, where the trees are slightly thinner comes a band of Uz, axes cutting and heavy maces smashing. Having braved the daylight, sneaking through ancient tunnels, they'd made the vegetation without discovery....
Or so they'd thought.
Up above a score of humanoids watch, camouflaged against all discovery. With living bows they wait for the signal, all eyes on the leader of their war band
The Aldryami Lords.
Young warriors intent on following the footsteps of those that walked before.