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Description
The Guardians of the Palace

. . . They were soon swallowed by the shadow of the hall, the size of which they could not determine, and gloom suppressing the radiance of Arelstacia’s lit rose wand. Lynaldriel, who had always been quite terrified of the dark, clung herself to Raleye’s left arm as her fear ensued. Ildri attempted to illuminate the scene before them further with a gleam from her own vine wand, though in vain as the darkness seamed to over power them both. Alenandron could have helped in their effort, but he was rather fond of the dark, so he merely trailed behind the rest.
                They plunged deeper into the fortress. The further they got, the more they noticed the odd sounds. It was almost as if something were scuttling around in the darkness before them. Above, below, left, right, behind . . . But then, if you thought about it a bit, it was as if numerous voices were whispering to one another against the hidden walls of the hall. At times it felt as if ‘they’, whoever they were, could have been an inch from the ear. The soft, raspy sounds all swirled together, uncannily similar to the ominous fog, which continued to wisp and whirl about their feet, even as they pressed on through the foreboding corridors of the outer palace.
                Alen could hear Lynn’s quick and frightened breathing even from the back of their rather miss-matched assemblage. He still couldn’t see why she had to come. Whatever powers she ‘apparently’ had, certainly hadn’t shown themselves yet. She was just a pathetic young child in his eyes, and forever would be until he was proven wrong by means of some magnificent performance of the supernatural. He didn’t see that happening anywhere in the near future.
                “If you’re so afraid of the dark then do something about it little miss ‘prophesized’.” Alen said in an irritated voice.
                His sudden comment and rather deep voice startled the already panicking girl, who gave a loud squeak and leaped a foot from the floor. The yelp echoed in the passage, and rang painfully in Alen’s ears. Raleye managed to calm the young elf down, then glared at Alen.
                “What?” asked Alen, “I didn’t do anything. It’s not like I tried to scare her to a point where she’d screech like a dying rodent.” He ended spitefully, ignoring the fierce looks from all the rest for the remark.
                “She’s not necessarily used to these sort of journeys,” Said Arelstacia furiously, “and quite frankly, neither am I. So give her a break, just this once.”
                “No. If she’s really the little prodigy you make her seem to be, then she should be able to handle herself.” Alen retorted, his irritation prominent in every word he spoke.
                “We never said she was a ‘prodigy’ Alen,” began Raleye, “merely a rather gifted being for her age. She’s still in training anyway.” He added.
                “Well, if she’s still in training, why in Harkenon’s name did you bring along?!” fumed Alen.
                “Because,” Arsit jumped in, “these are dangerous times and it’s best to bring what forces we have. And there’s no way I would have left her alone in that forsaken village."
                “Then drop her off at Hannarah’s!” Alen’s frustration at being second to a child the whole trip was starting to spill out.
                “Will you all just shut up!” shouted an aggravated Ildri, “We have other things to attend to and she’s already here with us, so stop this pointless fight and get over it!”
                Ildri and Lynn had been watching on the sidelines the whole time. Lynn seemed at a loss as to why she was topic of conversation (the others had fought about this before, but not nearly so thoroughly nor in front of her). She was a rather oblivious teen in the first place. Ildri was annoyed that Alen was always so critical of everything to do with the elf. But he was being pushed to last in their minds with her there, so maybe his anger was somewhat justified . . .
                No one said another word, as they all knew that Ildri’s words were true. But the air between them, especially toward Alen, had become tense and grudging. They were getting deeper into the stronghold. All could tell by the way the sounds seemed to get louder and more excited. It was as if the ‘voices’ seemed to have heard the quarrelling, and know how much it set the group apart.
                Lynaldriel slowed her pace until she was even with Alenandron.
                “I’m sorry if my presence has somehow inconveniences you.” She said apologetically.
                “It does, and your apology is not accepted, because it’s not you I wanted to hear it from.” Said Alen without looking at her, glaring ahead. It was Arsit who really got on his nerves, Lynn herself wasn’t a bad kid, he just didn’t know why she had to come. . . especially to this place.
                Lynn knew there was no way she could get him to understand any of it, since she herself didn’t. So she resigned to silence, and hurried up to front of the group with Ralenmere and Arelstacia once again.
                Alen was quite proud of his self-control, for not just shoving the girl down another passage to rid himself of her. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but it would still have made him feel much better for a moment at least.
                As he walked, he was sure he felt the slightest breeze go past him, he was positive no one else would have felt it, except maybe Lynn being an elf and able to feel even the smallest hint of change. But it would have been blocked by Raleye who was at her right, attempting to keep her from having a panic attack with aid from Arsit.
                Alen hurried to the right trying to find the source of the moving air. His arm finally touched a wall, as the others faded out of sight. He backtracked to about the place he had sensed it. Once he did, he noticed that there was a doorway into another vast corridor. He smiled. It was exactly as he thought.
                He slipped into the hall, quite sure that the others would neither notice his absence, nor care if they did.  He held up his hand, and after a quick moment of concentration, a small, deep blue flame burst forth from his palm. For a moment it spilled light onto the walls and down the other end of the passage, but only briefly. The darkness pressed in around it, limiting the light and his visibility. But that moment was enough for Alen to see the other door at the end.
                He ran across the hall, and into the next one, the disturbed fog swirling turbulently. He didn’t really know where to go, but he was overwhelmed by an urge for an adventure alone, and if it just might get him into serious trouble, he didn’t care. His people lived for chances like these.
                He knew this palace hid secrets, and was so eager to find something, that he didn’t notice the fog he had left behind. It spun itself together near one edge of the room, compressing into a small ball of dark mist, which lengthened and took shape. The silhouette of what appeared to be a human figure formed in mid-air. It was a dark gray, and gave forth a shadowy, sinister haze, much darker and more menacing than the fog it had formed from. It watched as Alen hurried out of the corridor, but remained silent.
                The figure then fell back into the fog, which swished out of the room at an alarming speed. Toward the heart of the fortress, intent on bringing news to it’s master.

Description
The Guardians of the Palace

. . . They were soon swallowed by the shadow of the hall, the size of which they could not determine, and gloom suppressing the radiance of Arelstacia’s lit rose wand. Lynaldriel, who had always been quite terrified of the dark, clung herself to Raleye’s left arm as her fear ensued. Ildri attempted to illuminate the scene before them further with a gleam from her own vine wand, though in vain as the darkness seamed to over power them both. Alenandron could have helped in their effort, but he was rather fond of the dark, so he merely trailed behind the rest.
                They plunged deeper into the fortress. The further they got, the more they noticed the odd sounds. It was almost as if something were scuttling around in the darkness before them. Above, below, left, right, behind . . . But then, if you thought about it a bit, it was as if numerous voices were whispering to one another against the hidden walls of the hall. At times it felt as if ‘they’, whoever they were, could have been an inch from the ear. The soft, raspy sounds all swirled together, uncannily similar to the ominous fog, which continued to wisp and whirl about their feet, even as they pressed on through the foreboding corridors of the outer palace.
                Alen could hear Lynn’s quick and frightened breathing even from the back of their rather miss-matched assemblage. He still couldn’t see why she had to come. Whatever powers she ‘apparently’ had, certainly hadn’t shown themselves yet. She was just a pathetic young child in his eyes, and forever would be until he was proven wrong by means of some magnificent performance of the supernatural. He didn’t see that happening anywhere in the near future.
                “If you’re so afraid of the dark then do something about it little miss ‘prophesized’.” Alen said in an irritated voice.
                His sudden comment and rather deep voice startled the already panicking girl, who gave a loud squeak and leaped a foot from the floor. The yelp echoed in the passage, and rang painfully in Alen’s ears. Raleye managed to calm the young elf down, then glared at Alen.
                “What?” asked Alen, “I didn’t do anything. It’s not like I tried to scare her to a point where she’d screech like a dying rodent.” He ended spitefully, ignoring the fierce looks from all the rest for the remark.
                “She’s not necessarily used to these sort of journeys,” Said Arelstacia furiously, “and quite frankly, neither am I. So give her a break, just this once.”
                “No. If she’s really the little prodigy you make her seem to be, then she should be able to handle herself.” Alen retorted, his irritation prominent in every word he spoke.
                “We never said she was a ‘prodigy’ Alen,” began Raleye, “merely a rather gifted being for her age. She’s still in training anyway.” He added.
                “Well, if she’s still in training, why in Harkenon’s name did you bring along?!” fumed Alen.
                “Because,” Arsit jumped in, “these are dangerous times and it’s best to bring what forces we have. And there’s no way I would have left her alone in that forsaken village."
                “Then drop her off at Hannarah’s!” Alen’s frustration at being second to a child the whole trip was starting to spill out.
                “Will you all just shut up!” shouted an aggravated Ildri, “We have other things to attend to and she’s already here with us, so stop this pointless fight and get over it!”
                Ildri and Lynn had been watching on the sidelines the whole time. Lynn seemed at a loss as to why she was topic of conversation (the others had fought about this before, but not nearly so thoroughly nor in front of her). She was a rather oblivious teen in the first place. Ildri was annoyed that Alen was always so critical of everything to do with the elf. But he was being pushed to last in their minds with her there, so maybe his anger was somewhat justified . . .
                No one said another word, as they all knew that Ildri’s words were true. But the air between them, especially toward Alen, had become tense and grudging. They were getting deeper into the stronghold. All could tell by the way the sounds seemed to get louder and more excited. It was as if the ‘voices’ seemed to have heard the quarrelling, and know how much it set the group apart.
                Lynaldriel slowed her pace until she was even with Alenandron.
                “I’m sorry if my presence has somehow inconveniences you.” She said apologetically.
                “It does, and your apology is not accepted, because it’s not you I wanted to hear it from.” Said Alen without looking at her, glaring ahead. It was Arsit who really got on his nerves, Lynn herself wasn’t a bad kid, he just didn’t know why she had to come. . . especially to this place.
                Lynn knew there was no way she could get him to understand any of it, since she herself didn’t. So she resigned to silence, and hurried up to front of the group with Ralenmere and Arelstacia once again.
                Alen was quite proud of his self-control, for not just shoving the girl down another passage to rid himself of her. He knew it wasn’t her fault, but it would still have made him feel much better for a moment at least.
                As he walked, he was sure he felt the slightest breeze go past him, he was positive no one else would have felt it, except maybe Lynn being an elf and able to feel even the smallest hint of change. But it would have been blocked by Raleye who was at her right, attempting to keep her from having a panic attack with aid from Arsit.
                Alen hurried to the right trying to find the source of the moving air. His arm finally touched a wall, as the others faded out of sight. He backtracked to about the place he had sensed it. Once he did, he noticed that there was a doorway into another vast corridor. He smiled. It was exactly as he thought.
                He slipped into the hall, quite sure that the others would neither notice his absence, nor care if they did.  He held up his hand, and after a quick moment of concentration, a small, deep blue flame burst forth from his palm. For a moment it spilled light onto the walls and down the other end of the passage, but only briefly. The darkness pressed in around it, limiting the light and his visibility. But that moment was enough for Alen to see the other door at the end.
                He ran across the hall, and into the next one, the disturbed fog swirling turbulently. He didn’t really know where to go, but he was overwhelmed by an urge for an adventure alone, and if it just might get him into serious trouble, he didn’t care. His people lived for chances like these.
                He knew this palace hid secrets, and was so eager to find something, that he didn’t notice the fog he had left behind. It spun itself together near one edge of the room, compressing into a small ball of dark mist, which lengthened and took shape. The silhouette of what appeared to be a human figure formed in mid-air. It was a dark gray, and gave forth a shadowy, sinister haze, much darker and more menacing than the fog it had formed from. It watched as Alen hurried out of the corridor, but remained silent.
                The figure then fell back into the fog, which swished out of the room at an alarming speed. Toward the heart of the fortress, intent on bringing news to it’s master.