“This battle is greater than your father, greater than the Orcs, and greater than Ikros.  The entire world is balancing on a pin head, and all too many have the power to upset the balance and cause its’ destruction.”
    “I don’t understand,” Garadaine shook his head.
    “How could the world be in such danger and no one know about it?”
“I am a servant of a great collective.  We have borne witness to a great many things that have occurred upon this earth, and we have seen a growing evil in Ikros once again.”
    “Just who are you?” Garadaine demanded.
    “I am Swift-Strike, friend of your father in times passed.”
“It can’t be…” the prince said in disbelief, looking the Elf over slowly.
    “Elves do live an awful long time, my Prince,” Masark said, “and he does bear a striking resemblance to the descriptions.”
    “Prince Garadaine of Ikros, your father Garalt saved the world from a great evil thirty years ago.  The heroes’ bloodline must be called upon to save the world once more.  I traveled with your father while he grasped his destiny to defeat the terrible Death Wind.  You must embrace your destiny, or we will all suffer under an unrelenting and unstoppable evil.”
    “My destiny is my own, I do not believe in fate,” Garadaine scoffed.
    “Believe in it or not as you wish, but it is guiding you to confront the evil and if you are not prepared for it, you and the rest of Ikros will be lost.”
“What is this evil?” Masark broke in.
    “I cannot say for certain, even the Collective does not know the true nature of the coming threat.”
    “So… what you’re saying is,” Garadaine furrowed his brow, “that Ikros is in danger from an unnamed foe that not even your great 'Collective' knows anything about, and I am bound by fate to confront it?”
    “Yes,” Swift-Strike replied without expression.  The three men stared at each other for a few moments, the only sound coming from them being the ping of water droplets from the trees landing on their armor. 

    “Well, what can you tell me?” Garadaine snapped.  His patience with the Elf was growing thin.
    “The Orcs are gathering in the north, but raiding parties have been sent out to gather certain items.  We are not sure what these items are, or why they have captured the wizard Greylen, so we cannot know for sure what they are planning to use them for.  We do know, however, that the Orcs are not working alone; other forces serve them, have joined them, and may be commanding them.  The forces of evil are gathering together for one common purpose.”
    “Things don’t look well for Ikros,” Masark said grimly.
    “Once again you have told me very little,” Garadaine said, clenching his fist, “How is it that your group could have known so much about the way the world worked in my father’s day, and know so little now?”
    “You must trust in me and my intentions, Prince Garadaine of Ikros.  I am not here to mislead you, or send you into a trap.  The world is very different place now, and we were not expecting another threat such as this so soon,” the Elf defended.
    “What would you have me do?”  Garadaine sighed.
    “Continue on your way to Halcyon Castle.  Use the main road; it is near sunset now, and most of the soldiers will be at their posts.  I will make sure any remaining Ikrosian soldiers are diverted from your path.  You must gather loyal forces to you before you can hope to defeat the growing army in the north.  Learn what you can, we will do the same.”
    “Very well,” Garadaine said slowly.  He didn’t know if he should trust the Elf, or even believe anything he said, but something inside begged to trust him.  It was only a soft whisper, but it was impossible to ignore.