Ranos Deln groaned, and winced as his hands went to his head.  This was the last
time he'd treat himself this way he promised, even though he immediately knew that this
wasn't true.  He'd be drinking again within the next few minutes, just to get rid of the
pain he was already in.  It was an endless cycle of abuse that made him feel terrible
pretty much all of the time.  Before he had come to Darkun Moss he had been a fine
officer, but this place had a way of ruining a person.
     Ranos had come to this jungle as a young captain, and though it had not been all
that long ago, he felt like an old, old man.  The reason they were here wasn't a bad
idea, but the place they had been sent was sapping the life out of him, not to mention
his men.  Though they were still within a respectable distance of Ba-ul Naran, Deln and
his garrison felt like they might never see their home again.  They were stationed in a
fort at the mouth of the Galt River, right near the delta that drained into the Aonos
sea.  The river was dirty from the muddy wash of the banks of the land to the east;
Naran, and the jungle Deln and his men were in, was hot and dark.
     Darkun Moss.  How many jokes about the name of this place had he heard in his years
here?  "Darkun Deadly", "Darkun Boring",  "Darkun  Forgotten".  The names went on and on,
seeming to fit any situation that the fort could encounter.
     Deln groaned a bit and rubbed his hands through his thinning hair.  He had thought
that guarding and watching against an invasion of the evil presence across the sea ,
would be more important, but he sometimes thought that King Osen and the other monarchs
in the north had all but forgotten him and his men.  And sometimes, when he was at his
most inebriated, he wondered what he had ever done to deserve this assignment, because he
sure felt like apologizing to them in order to get back to any civilized part of the
world that he could.
     "Sir!"  the voice shattered his reverie, and caused him to almost fall out of his
seat, even before the door crashed open, again almost toppling him from his chair.  
     This was the last thing he needed right now.  He groaned and attempted to hide his
eyes from what was entering, but the shine from the outside dazzled him for a second, and
he was trapped until the door slammed shut again, and the owner of the voice was standing
in front of him.  Deln winced, and lowered his head in resigned defeat.
     The new lieutenant stood in the doorway, the sun shining behind him like it was his
own personal source of light.  The light fell upon his immaculately polished armor,
making Deln's eyes water with its brightness, and the lieutenant's blue eyes seemed even
brighter in the light, like they were glowing with an inner light of their own.
     "Sir!"  Ranos flinched at the forceful cadence of the lieutenant's voice.
     "Yes lieutenant?" he replied weakly, trying vainly to find someplace to hide.  Ranos
didn't have many regrets anymore, but requesting more men from King Osen had to be one of
them.  The day this brash, young lieutenant had stepped off the boat and come into the
fort had been the last day that Ranos had enjoyed any kind of solitude.  Since then, then
young man had tried to shape up the troops to be the kind of spit and polish soldiers
that could be found in any major city in Entia.  The problem was, they weren't in any
major city in Entia...
     "Sir, it is time to send out another patrol..sir!"
     Ranos closed his eyes against a sudden headache, and rubbed his temples with his
thick fingers.  This was the duty he had come to loathe.  It had never been, nor would it
ever be easy to send a man to his death.  Ranos was under orders to send out patrols to
scout possible enemy activity, and he had written many letters to many parents throughout
Entia who had lost sons due to the dangers of Darkun Moss.  He had finally convinced
himself to only send one soldier out, to lessen the death toll.  If that soldier was
lucky enough to dodge the Spiderlings, any of the other well hidden wildlife, or the
terrain, then the patrol was deemed a success.  Needless to say, there had been many more
failures at patrol that successes.  That's why Ranos had to request fresh troops so
often.  Anything to safeguard the river against Entia's enemies...
  "Umm, let's send out Thelon Par.  He's been on a lucky streak.  I hope to the Gods it
continues."
     "Yes Sir!"
     "Any reports on Spiderling activity?"  Ranos felt like he should at least try to act
like a commander in front of his troops, even though they all knew his legendary battles
with drink, and didn't really expect much from him.
     "It's been quiet for the last two days, sir" the lieutenant answered smugly.  "Our
last skirmish probably sent them running back to the north."
     "Don't be so sure of anything' Ranos replied quickly.  "The Spiderlings can smell
us, and they've never been gone for long.  Maybe they were called back to that temple to
the north for awhile, but rest assured, they'll be back."
     Ranos caught the roll of the eyes that the lieutenant tried to quickly get by him. 
None of his men believed that anything was in that old temple, and that the Spiderlings
were more animal than tribal.  But he knew better.  He had been here from the start, and
he had seen much.  Something evil was in this land, and the Spiderlings were but one of
its minions.  It wasn't a total or pervasive evil like the villain in Darcan; it was more
natural, more underlying.  He wouldn't be surprised if whatever lived in the temple had
been here longer than almost anything in the world.
     "Ah, very well lieutenant.  That's all.  See to it the patrol goes out, and make
sure the men are doing all right.  I have to draw up some plans and whatnot for attack
contingencies."
     The lieutenant's face had the slightest look of disgust on it for a second, but
Ranos was too involved in thought of wiping out another possible patrol death with a few
drinks to even notice.  In fact, he didn't even register the lieutenant's stiff salute or
his swift exit.  He just knew when the door closed, that his hand had already found the
bottle in the desk.  Time now for some real work...
     A mumbling sound slowly found its way into Ranos Deln's consciousness, and he slowly
drifted towards wakefulness.  The office was darker when he finally got his eyes open, so
he was sure that either he was going blind, or some time had passed since he had last
been aware of his surroundings.  He saw a glimmer of light under the fabric that was
fastened to the windows, and that was enough to throw his head into a dizzy, painful
spiral.  As he slowly tried to sit up, the mumbling grew louder, and became a low buzz.
     "What the hell was I doing?" he asked himself, before seeing the two empty bottles
of Makilor's finest lying at his feet.  Even moving down to look at them made his head
swim, and he had to grip the desk edge with his shaky hands to stop from falling over. 
When he was sure of his balance again, he stopped hugging the desk and ran his hands over
his head, brushing back his graying hair.  If he didn't get out of this command somehow,
he knew he'd die here.  Sending out men to their deaths was weighing heavily on Ranos
Deln, and there was nothing he could do about it while he remained the commander of
Darkun Moss.
     The door crashed open, shattering Deln's reverie, and causing him to half fall out
of the seat yet again.  His arms shot out to the table edge, and he hung on for dear life
as his head exploded with pain and the dizzy feeling returned full force.
     "Spiderlings!"  A figure stood in the doorway, blocking out most of the remaining
sunlight.  It took a few seconds before Ranos recognized the brash lieutenant.  The young
man's uniform was torn and bloody, and his left arm was in a sling.  "Come on, you damn
drunk, wake up!"
     "Whaa?"
     "Spiderlings, damn you!  Get out here and lead the men.  I can't do it alone!"
     "T-that will be quite enough, lieutenant" Ranos managed to weakly sputter, as he
tried to sit up in his chair and regain some semblance of balance.
     The lieutenant slammed the door, causing yet another jolt through Deln's head, and
walked to the desk.  "Get up!  We need some kind of leadership!"  
     Deln snatched his hand away when the lieutenant tried to grab it, and unsteadily got
to his feet.  "Don't touch me!  I am the commander here!"
     "Then act like one!"
     Ranos  sat back, shocked at the lieutenant's sudden fire.  He had been a subservient
second up until now, and a cold feeling of dread started to creep down Deln's backbone. 
Perhaps there was trouble at that.
     :"Spiderlings you say?  How long did it take to scare them off?"  Ranos ask more
soberly, as he tottered to his feet and smoothed out his uniform.
     "We didn't scare them off.  It's an attack!  We're trying to stay alive here!"
     "WHAT?!?"  Ranos sputtered, almost tripping over his feet.  The Spiderlings were
dangerous if you met them in the surrounding forests, but they had always been frightened
away near the fort.  All it ever took was a bit of bright light, and some noise.  In
fact, there was still light enough outside...
     Oh no.  Ranos felt an even deeper chill descend into his body.  The sun was still up
outside.  The Spiderlings had never been around the fort when daylight was still in the
sky.  Never.  "When did they attack?" he asked weakly, running his hand through his hair
again.
     "About an hour ago,  just as the night guard went on duty."  the lieutenant replied,
with almost a sneer on his face.
     An hour ago.  That would have made it just an hour before the sun set.  The
Spiderlings had never been out in force before the sun had gone down before.  What the
hell was going on?
     Deln pushed the lieutenant aside, and strode to the door.  His drunkenness was gone;
this news had done wonders in scaring the liquor out of him.  He threw open the door, and
was shocked.
     The low buzz he had heard all along had been the screams of the dying.  Men were
strewn along the wall, some ripped apart, and some still moving slowly, trying to get
back down into the yard.  Those soldiers that were still in relatively good shape were
trying to man the walls, but Spiderlings could be seen every so often, trying to get past
them and over the wall.  The Spiderlings were small, black things, with 6 spindly legs,
and faces that looked vaguely goblinoid.  They were oily and totally evil looking, and
they carried small, vicious spears with barbed ends.  Deln had no doubt that the tips
were probably poisoned as well.
     With a sick look on his face, he stumbled towards the wall, and climbed the short
ladder that led up to the catwalk, so he could see out from the arrow slits, and into the
clearing below, where the space for the fort had been carved out of the surrounding
forests over ten years ago.
     He didn't even notice the lieutenant, who stumbled over the dead bodies of
Spiderlings and soldiers to keep pace with him, nor the shocked stares of his men as he
pushed past them to get to the wall.  What he saw when he got there thoroughly terrified
him.  There were a sea of Spiderlings in the clearing, and he could see more pouring out
of the forest as he watched.  Also, far behind them, he thought he could sense more
movement, as if something else were there also.  In that instant he knew; the Temple. 
The old abandoned temple that he had warned King Osen about in numerous letters was
indeed the danger that he had always knew it had to be.  None of his patrols had ever
returned from trying to breach the temple, and eventually he had given up on it.  It
looks like that decision may have come back to haunt him.
     "Damn," he muttered to himself, looking at what was below.  "Something...something
we can do..."
     The lieutenant stood at his shoulder, quiet for the first time since Ranos had met
him. "Retreat.  We can retreat and live."
     "You're mad.  We'd never make it to the docks.  And if we did, what then?  The boats
we have would not carry all of us.  There are about 100 civilians here in case you've
forgotten."  Ranos turned impatiently from the clearing and looked at the lieutenant,
face to face.  "We've got to fight.  Its the only way."
     The lieutenant's face was flustered, and his eyes angry.  "Fight?  What do you know
about fight?  You've been stinking drunk the whole time I've been here!  Listen to what
I'm saying.  We've got to get the hell out of here and save what people we can!"
     "That's enough." Ranos's voice was like ice, and many of his men nearby looked up,
though his voice had been quiet and directed solely towards the young officer.  "We won't
leave people to die.  You might voice your displeasure and your complaints, but now is
not the time.  For the time being, I am the commander, understand?"
     "Yes sir," the lieutenant mumbled, his gaze dropping.
     "Now, we need some kind of plan.  I need you to go and fetch Fingol."  Ranos looked
back over the wall, and saw the seething hordes of Spiderlings.  "And I'd suggest you go
get him quickly."
     "Fingol!" the lieutenant sputtered.  "What's that old drunk good for.."
     "Get him!" Deln almost screamed, causing the lieutenant to look at him in shock. 
His men were too busy fighting, otherwise he was sure they would have had the same looks
on their faces too.  The lieutenant still looked angry, but he stumbled back down the
stairs, and headed off into the small town that the fort surrounded.
     "Men, set that oil on fire in those pots!  That way you can spread out more and
watch the wall!  Those damn things won't get near flame!"  Deln shouted, grabbing a sword
from the ground and hacking at a Spiderling that had gotten too near the top.  "Hurry
up!"
     The men rushed around with what looked like renewed energy.  Deln had been a very
good commander before the drink had gotten to him.  Many of his men hoped that he would
be able to lead them now, because the situation wasn't looking very good.
     Deln busied himself with helping his men keep the Spiderlings from broaching the
wall.  The sun was setting quickly, and after the night came, they wouldn't stand much of
a chance at all.  Deln was sure that whatever else was out there would be coming out
then, and he didn't want to know what that might be.  He was totally sober now, and
sweating out the months of drinking he had been doing, but he didn't feel any better.  In
fact, he wished he were back in his office now.  He kept swinging his sword, however, and
didn't even notice when the lieutenant ran back up the ladder, dragging an old man with
him.
     "Here he is," the lieutenant growled, "But what good is this old drunk?"
     Ranos looked up from his swordwork and looked at Fingol.  The old man had not
changed any in all of the years that he had been here; except that he had once belonged
to Deln's initial force from Ba-ul Naran.  Once Fingol had been one of Naran's greatest
mages.  Now he was just an old drunk.  Ranos sometimes drank with him when the pressures
of the job got to much; he had been beginning to believe that he would end up quitting
just as Fingol had, and they would be drunks together.  Fortunately or unfortunately,
however, this had all happened.
     Fingol looked older than Ranos remembered, even though he had seen him only last
week.  The old man's long white hair and beard looked almost yellowed, and his face was
wrinkled from the sun and drink.  Ranos still felt a lot of affection for the old man
however.  He was one of the few who had been here from the beginning, and had never left,
even when he had quit the service.  Ranos felt like Fingol was a real friend.
     "Fingol," Ranos gasped, tired from his efforts of trying to stop the Spiderlings. 
"We could use you, old friend."
     "What are you going to use this old drunk for?" the lieutenant sputtered angrily,
not understanding why he had had to go get the old man.  "He couldn't even walk here
under his own power."
     Fingol peered from under his bushy eyebrows at Ranos, blinking his eyes slowly as he
saw the dirt and blood on the commander's face and body.  "Spot of trouble there,
commander?" he rasped slowly, apparently not seeing what was going on around him.
     Deln saw however, the glint of fire in the old man's eyes, underneath his bushy
eyebrows.  Perhaps Fingol wasn't as drunk as he led the lieutenant to believe.
     "Spiderlings Fingol," he replied.  "Looks like we were right about that temple being
trouble."
     "I knew it.  I told you that place was evil," the old man mumbled.  "And now look
what we're up against.  Damn that Osen for not sending us enough men to get rid of it all
together.  Can't see beyond his hatred of Bakora, that one."
     "Yes, well, its too late for recriminations now.  We've got to stop these damn
things before they overrun the fort.  What can you do to help?"
     The old man stroked his long, white beard, and then rubbed his hands on his dirty
robe.  "Do to help?  Well, let me see if I can remember something."
     The lieutenant's look of disgust was plainly visible on his face for everyone to
see, but Fingol either ignored it, or was too deep in thought to notice.  Ranos gave the
lieutenant a dirty look, and the young man blushed and turned away to look out over the
wall, at the creatures below.  Ranos figured that the look came back to the young man's
face the minute he turned away, though.
     Fingol, after one look over the wall, started to mumble and gesture, and Ranos felt
the air around him start to get hot.  The gesturing became more bizarre and physical, and
Fingol started to chant.
     "Bzaranaman krumaname yahsaranaba!"  The old man would fling out his hands at the
end of this repeating chant, and the air grew even hotter.  Just when Ranos felt that he
couldn't stand it anymore, a wave of flame burst out from Fingol's body and spread out
from the wall to cover the Spiderlings below like a blanket.
     The wailing that assaulted the fort when the fire came down upon the Spiderlings was
horrendous.  The creatures were like kindling in a campfire; they burst into flames, and
burned brightly and for a long time.  When they had burned, there was nothing left but a
small husk of bone.  
     Fingol poured wave upon wave of fire on the clearing, until the very ground itself
caught fire and began to burn.  It turned the approaching dusk into a bright noon sun,
and Ranos could catch glimpses of large, shadowed beings in the forest, pacing back and
forth, but not approaching the fort.
     The fire was too much for the Spiderlings, and they broke.  Whatever control the
temple to the north had on them, it wasn't enough to keep them near the fort when most of
them were burning to black husks.  They poured back through the forest, chittering at a
shrill pitch, and the men of the fort could see them pouring around whatever else was in
there, as though they were afraid to get caught between those things and the fire.
     The fire burned low, and the dusk returned.  Through the deepening gloom, Ranos
could see the things in the trees coming closer to the clearing.  Every so often he could
catch the gleam of an eye or a tooth, and sometimes he thought he saw glimpses of huge
legs or arms.  The men were using the respite of the breaking of the Spiderlings to move
the fallen bodies of their comrades down into the fort, and to gather weapons for
whatever would hit them after dark.  Fingol was leaning against the wall, breathing
rather heavily; he hadn't exerted himself like this in many years, Ranos guessed.  He was
sweating off the alcohol just as Deln had earlier.  There was a glint in his eye,
however, that belied some of the exertion his face showed.  Ranos guessed that the old
man was having fun, though he might not want everyone to know it.  Ranos would have been
truly frightened if Fingol had been acting any other way.  The old man was almost
fearless and in all the time Ranos had known him, Fingol had never run from a fight, no
matter what the odds.
     Ranos had the full attention of his men now, even the lieutenant, who was looking at
both him and Fingol with new eyes.  Deln directed his men like the leader he had been,
and they jumped at his orders, preparing themselves for the coming night.  Huge pots of
oil blazed between the men, sending off an oily stench, but keeping the walls well lit. 
Ranos sent men off into the town proper to get food for everyone, as well as to check on
the townsfolk.  Since the fort was situated against a sheer cliff wall to the west and
south, and by the river to the east, the north was the only spot they had to defend,
which was excellent news.  That's why they had built the fort where they did.
     As the men ate and rested, the dusk turned to darkness.  The light from the burning
oil in the pots was all that kept any kind of light near the fort, and soldiers had to
refill the pots periodically to keep the oil level up.  Ranos could see movement and
could hear noises out in the nearby forest, but nothing stepped into the poor light of
the oil fires.  Torches also lined the walls, but didn't penetrate the growing darkness
of the forest and the clearing.  Only the fort seemed well lit in the night.  The men
were all ready however, and some townspeople had even showed up to help protect the fort
from attack.  Ranos paced nervously along the wall, waiting for something to happen, but
he could understand why it didn't.  They were waiting for a lull, or some kind of slip-
up.  The minute anyone relaxed his guard even a bit, the things from the woods would
come.  
     And there was no way to stop it.  All of his men couldn't keep up that kind of
attention through the night.  Someone would falter before then.  Ranos didn't want it to
happen, but he knew it would.  Even Fingol looked nervous, though the old man tried to
hide it by juggling little balls of light in his hands for either his or everyone else's
amusement.  No one seemed to be laughing however.
     The vigilance lasted for over two hours before a slip was made.  And, at that
moment, all hell broke loose.  Ranos didn't know exactly what happened; maybe one of his
men looked away from the wall too long, or perhaps a fire in one of the oil pots
flickered and died.  The only thing he did know was that things started to pore out of
the forest, and when they got near the wall, he finally saw them.
     They were spiders.  Giant spiders.  There weren't as many of them as there had been
Spiderlings, but these things were as huge as ponies.  And they could climb.
     But they weren't all.  Behind them, Ranos could see some kind of dark beings,
vaguely bipedal, but larger than a man.  They had huge legs and arms, and claws slid out
from what could be called hands as they got closer to the wall.  He didn't know what they
were, but they scared the hell out of him.  
     By the time these dark figures had gotten near the wall, the giant spiders were
already scaling it.  Ranos heard the shouts of his men, as well as the words of Fingol,
as the old man threw magick at the things attacking.  The air was full of the smell of
burning flesh and hair, and all was in disarray.
     Ranos swung his blade like a scythe, and hacked into the spiders as they reached the
top of the wall.  Many of the things had been hit by spells, and lay quivering or burning
on the clearing in front of the fort, but there were still many of them that had made it
to the top of the wall.  The men attacked them with almost a frightened frenzy, for the
things were trying to pounce and inject their prey with poison.
     In all of the confusion, Ranos heard a pounding on the walls, and looked down to see
the dark beings with the huge arms and legs pummeling the walls of the fort.  They
weren't doing a lot of damage to the strengthened wood beams that the walls were made of,
but they were using their claws and their huge anvil shaped hands to shake the wall and
tear it up.  Eventually, they would destroy it enough to enter.
     "Fingol!" he shouted, pointing over the wall.  "We're in trouble!"  He watched as
the old man leaned over, and started cursing.  Apparently, he had seen something like
them before.
     "Groths!" the old man nearly screamed.  "I thought these things had been banished to
the great Void!"
     "Guess not!" Ranos cried back.  He lost track of the old man then, when a spider got
too close, and he spent a good deal of time hacking it apart before it gave up and died,
toppling back down to the ground.
     As he watched it fall, he caught a glimpse of something out in the clearing, just
beyond the light of the torches and oil.  Something that glowed with an almost blue-black
luminescence.  Something big, with glowing red eyes.  Several somethings in fact.  
     Stifling a shout for Fingol, Ranos whirled away from the wall and helped another of
his men kill a spider that had made it over the wall.  It wasn't until it was dead, that
he noticed that he was helping his lieutenant.  The young man flashed him a smile from a
face that was oily from the fire, and smeared with the spider's blood.
     Ranos grinned grimly and flashed a quick salute, before moving on towards Fingol,
who was hurling fire down into the clearing, in an attempt to get rid of the Groth.
     "What do you think?" Ranos asked him when he got close to the old man.  "Are we
going to survive the night?"  Fingol had certainly driven the Groth back from the wall,
but very few of them were out of the fight.  Only one or two blackened corpses told of
any success.
     Fingol flashed him a quick look, before turning back to the wall.  "Well, the
spiders are beaten by the looks of things, and the Groth seem manageable enough.  My
worry is with those things beyond.  Dawn isn't for another 6 hours or so, and I don't
think we can keep them away that long."
     "Suggestions?"
     Fingol looked Ranos directly in the eye.  "I would suggest prayer, commander."
     Ranos stood there for a minute, knowing that this was the moment to decide; would
they live or die?  He stood helplessly while Fingol sent more spells towards the Groth,
not knowing what commands to issue.  The men were mostly watching Fingol now, the spiders
seeming to have given up on gaining an entrance into the fort.  A few were relighting
torches and filling the oil pots again, but Ranos didn't think that would really help
against the things that still walked within the woods.  The townspeople had also gathered
below now, helping in any way they could.  This was their fight as well as Ranos and his
men's.
     The Groth were finally run off, after a few more spells fell on them, and Ranos
stood with Fingol on the wall, waiting for the end.  The huge black things in the woods
were moving around more, and Ranos knew they were about to attack.  He didn't think he or
his men would be able to drive them back however.
     It took about an hour, but the finally attack came after midnight.  Somehow the
remnants of the Spiderlings, spiders, and Groth had been gathered once more, and pressed
into attacking.  This time however, Ranos saw the huge black things emerge from the
forest, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.  The things were over 10 feet
tall, and floated over the ground.  They had the look of spectres, but he had never seen
anything so big.  A low moan came over the men, but they prepared themselves for another
assault.  Fingol was sweating heavily, but he had started to mumble under his breath;
either in prayer, or in preparation of casting more spells.
     Ranos was surprised when the lieutenant came to stand before him.  "Enough," the
young man said.  "I've seen enough to satisfy."
     While Ranos stared at him in disbelief, the lieutenant's image shifted, almost
blurred, and in his place a middle age man stood, in spotless white robes, with a halo of
white, wispy hair.  "Commander, you are indeed a splendid man," the old man said, before
turning towards the walls.
     Ranos stood with his mouth open dumbly; this was the Grand Cleric of Naran, who
Ranos had seen at court during one of the only occasions he had been invited to court. 
He bowed clumsily, and looked dumbstruck as the Grand Cleric raised his hands in the air.
     "Xarandum Sithilil Bhardera!" The night suddenly turned bright, as if the daylight
approached.  The Cleric continued his chant, and the light brightened, enough for Ranos
to see through the spectre-like creatures that had paused midway in the clearing, among
the Spiderlings, spiders, and Groth.  All of the things stopped and looked towards the
skies, and the ones in the back ranks started to slink back into the tree line.
     "Xenalralnalaum!" the Cleric exclaimed, waving his hands furiously.  The light
brightened into a flash, and it seemed as if daylight had descended on them for one brief
second.  Ranos had to cover his eyes, and when the flash had ended, and he took his hands
away, he saw that the spectre things were gone.  Gone as if they had never been there. 
The Cleric was leaning heavily against the wall, his head down, and his hands on his
knees.  Ranos held out his hands to help, but the Cleric weakly waved him away.  "I'll be
fine, Commander," he wheezed.
     Fingol tugged on Ranos's sleeve, and pointed towards the clearing once again.  There
was some kind of disturbance among the horde below now, and a wavy distortion was growing
noticeable.  Ranos saw it materialize into a kind of rippling oval, and from its depths,
men were materializing!
      From their uniforms, Ranos could see that they were the elite guard of Ba-ul Naran,
and they jumped out of the magickal portal, surprising the horde of monsters in the
clearing, and fighting their way towards the gate.
     Issuing a few terse orders, Ranos got his men to follow him down to the gate, and
open it, hacking at the monsters that tried to gain entrance, either to destroy the town,
or to get away from the army that was materializing behind them.
     The fighting was intense for a few, long minutes, but in the end, the outcome was
never in doubt.  With the spectre things gone, the men were able to eventually drive the
other monsters away.  Though Ranos had suffered heavy casualties among his men, the fort
was safe.
     It was nearly dawn before they started to relax a little, ferreting out pockets of
resistance in the woods, and driving the monsters north again.  Ranos, Fingol, the Elite
Naran guard commander, and the Great Cleric stood on the wall, looking out over their men
as they drove the monsters back.
     "How did you know?" was the only question Ranos could think of.  "How could you have
known there would be an attack?"
     "We didn't, " the Elite commander replied.  "Our most esteemed Holy Man, Master
Phim, disguised himself to evaluate your command of the fort, because we've been losing a
lot of men here on patrols, and that can affect someone's leadership; that burden, I
mean."
     "You are surely right about that," Ranos said.
     "I had truthfully worried when I first came here," Phum broke in. "But now I know
that you are truly capable of commanding these men.  The life here is hard, but I think
that we'll be able to survive here.  
     "And, when this fight started, I the High mage of Ba-ul Naran, Reavan of the House
of Kubas, and with his instruments we were able to keep in contact with each other until
we needed reinforcements.  And, it turned out well for us all, thank the Gods of Entia."
     Ranos nodded, and looked at the men who cleaned up after the battle that had nearly
cost him his command.  "But what now?  What happens to the fort, and to my men?"
      Phum put his hand under his chin thoughtfully.  "We stay here and keep the fort. 
I'll ask King Osen to send more men here, and we'll try to clear out the forest and that
temple to the north.  We'll strengthen your manpower, and give you some of our top mage
and clerical students from this years crop, and we'll make this fort an official outpost
of Naran instead of a scouting post.  With the extra manpower, you should be able to do
very well here, commander."
     "I agree," the Elite commander said.  "I'll send some of my elite guard here too, to
get some training in before they return to the posh accommodations of Ba-ul Naran."  His
grin was mischievous, but Ranos knew the Elite commander was only halfway serious.  Ba-ul
Naran was rough in spots, but it was a wealthy city also, and very posh.
     "That sounds wonderful," Ranos replied.  "I will be happy to command this fort in
the name of Osen and the Kingdom, and guard against Naran's enemies."
     Phum grasped Ranos's arm in his own.  "So be it, commander, so be it."