Introduction

"Report."

The order was short and carried an authority that nearly overpowered the young recruit.

"Er, we were ambushed sir."

"Losses?"

"Er ... everyone but me sir."

The Captain seemed to sag a little, although to the recruit he was no less intimidating.

"Very well, you're dismissed."

The recruit seemed to gather some courage from somewhere.

"You don't want to know the details of the attack Sir?"

"No I don't. If I did I would have asked for it wouldn't I?"

"Yes Sir."

"You were dismissed."

This time the Captain turned away and stared at the map spread across a table, held down at the corners by a large compass and a iron helmet. He didn't need to know the details. Every attack for the last nine months had been the same. Ambush, always unexpected, always at the seemingly safest point. Six to twelve mages would walk in from different directions, fireballs blazing.

The magic-based violence that followed would vary, but within a few minutes all but one man would be killed in a vast variety of different ways. The remaining man would be allowed to escape to report to his superiors. Over 1200 soldiers had been lost in these attacks - three hundred of those in just one attack that lasted only minutes!

Nothing he tried had managed to injure even one of the mages. He didn't even know how many he was up against. All appeared dressed the same way, it could be just twelve, but his instincts said this was bigger.

If only there was a way to dent their numbers, out of anger they might be forced into making a mistake. But swords and armour just couldn't protect from magic.

He lookd up, working hard to mask his weariness. "Lieutenant, any word from the appeal?"

The lieutenant turned to face his captain, resignation on his face at the familiar question. He gave the familiar answer.

"No Sir."

"We need a mage on our side. Why won't they respond?" he asked for what seemed like the thousandth time.

"They are in hiding Sir, either that or so lost in their magic they're no use to anyone - the mages have a word for it, Emflikar I think Sir."

"I've a good mind to send a troop to make an example of some of these Emflikars, waste of space the lot of them" the Captain retorted.

"With respect, that would only create more fear and hostility from the rest of the mages Sir. Many have pity for the Emflikars, the rest see it as a warning to what might happen to them."

"Well we need to do something, I can't keep losing entire garrisons on routine patrols. Everything we've tried so far has failed - even 50 archers couldn't get one lousy arrow off."

The Captain sighed, and sagged a little more.

"Have there been any more public attacks?" he asked.

The lieutenant rifled through some papers, plucked out an ominously large section, and scanned it quickly.

"Many Sir, and they are getting more intense. Reports from across the continent, entire towns are being decimated."

"May the Gods help us," the Captain whispered. "Leave me for now, thanks Martin, I need to think for a while," he finished with some remnant of command.

"If I may Sir?" The lieutenant looked uncharacteristically uncomfortable. "You were around before the mages attacked. What were the good times like?"

The Captain considered for a second and then realised this was one of those times he should answer.

"Magic wasn't as common, and the little we saw was used to entertain or to help. If you saw a mage fireshow once a year then you were considered lucky. They were quite a sight..." the Captain lost himself for a moment and then snapped out of the reverie.

"Unfortunately the kind of fireshows we get now tarnish the image a little," he finished sadly.

"Thank you Sir."

"Dismissed."

~
The story begins here... The Time Before