The final hours before...

A disguised elf with a nervous disorder is probably the best way to describe T’na at the encampment. After finishing the formula for the dragonsbane and creating a referral network of sorts for things illicit at the camp, Steve found himself with time on his hands…time to think about what was coming and of course, had to bother Vax about it.

Assuming the enemy would send some type of scouts or infiltration units and that the ground battle would be an assault by the enemy on these walls and barricades that had been erected, Steve proposed spending the last nights before the battle weaving patterns of rough ground into the areas approaching the walls. Not the roads the friendly forces were still using, but the paths the assaulting ground forces would cover.

For at least a couple hours each of these last nights, he surveyed the areas approaching the walls and created swathes of difficult ground, swerving towards the main roads, funneling approaching forces into bottlenecks near reinforced gates and the heaviest defenses, creating paths for support and reinforcements.

Those last few nights blurred together. T’na/Steve was exhausted, but somehow he kept finding it in himself to scrape up a few more squares each night…if he pulled hard enough from the wild, that well of power within, he could almost get one more spell out…and on the last night before the battle, he finally did. The power welled in his mind…as one hand extinguished the now bright flame and felt the piercing burn…the other hand launched the spell…expending the transferred wild power to cast one more spell, one that he didn’t have saved, one from force of will and power…and chaos.