His men, led by Teanthril, a young Elven warrior of 60 summers saw their Bearlstyl topple forward and charged to their deaths. Bearlstyl, unable to speak due to uncontrollable coughing, wrapped the scarf over his mouth, and slowly his lungs began to fill with breathable air. When he was finally able to stare, he looked out upon the clearing and saw his men motionless upon the ground, most still clutching their weapons. His eyes scanned the woods, and he caught just a glimpse of a huge, green reptilian eye. The eye stared coldly for a moment, then suddenly the trees began to shake. With a great upward burst, a gigantic green dragon leapt into the sky. Its claws were clutching the motionless form of the fire giant that the party had been hunting. The mystical beast disappeared into the clouds with the mid-afternoon sun. The closest Elf to the woods was Teanthril, the young noble who was engaged to Bearlstyl's only daughter Fraeminia. He had fallen forward, sword in hand. The Midnight sky filled with thick oily smoke from the pyre of Elven bodies. Bearstyl was relieved that the dragon had not returned before he could see his brethren to their resting place. They had come uninvited to unfamiliar lands.

The forest and its surrounding lands, rivers, and hills would all be known as Teanthril. The Elves would honor the memory of their fallen brother, and leave the land to nature. Nearly five hundred years later, Humans began pouring out of the west like a flood tide. The Elves of Quaryalysia had attempted to impede the ravaging Humans, and were initially successful. But for every man they killed, another five arrived hungry for revenge. In time, the Elves or Quaryalysia decided to leave the Humans alone. They knew that death would come to those who violated the land. If the barbaric men wanted to tempt the forces of nature, let them.

Eventually, The Humans built a permanent settlement known as Tristram where travelers would rest and buy goods. The Elves, content to be left alone, worried that the Humans would expand too much. And they did. The Humans of Tristram were overcrowded in only twenty years since establishment. Their appointed leader, Mayor Barskor, also the local stablesmith, closed Tristram's doors to new settlers. Crime had become a serious problem, and more people arriving every day only made it harder to enforce the law. Finally his militia had armed themselves and enforced the closed village policy. In the following months, a tent city of sorts had formed only a few miles south of Tristram. Its leader, a goatherder from the western province of Shalkem named Mordrard, had rallied his followers in an army to take Tristram by force. However, it was decided that Tristram's troops were better armed, and were prepared for a frontal attack. So he led his men miles to the east, and traveled north through the Teanthril Hills to regroup for a flanking attack.

Bearlstyl's scouting party was about to turn back toward Quaryalysia, but then his point warrior, a younger Elf named Williaviar, called the party to a halt with a wood owl call. Able to easily conceal themselves from the noisy, clumsy Humans, Bearlstyl watched the army set camp in the clearing of Teanthril Forest. The Elves quickly returned to their settlement to report news of the gathering human army. Not wishing to do battle on their own doorstep, the Elves quickly gathered their warriors and marched to Teanthril. The first screams came before dawn. Mordrard quickly rose to see nearly a hundred of his people rushing toward his tent. Then a strange whistling sound brought his attention skyward, where thin, shimmering arrows fell like deadly rain. "How could they have know?" he wondered, and then "How did they outflank us?"

The thought burned in his mind even as the first arrow buried itself into his throat. Falling forward, clutching his bleeding neck, another shaft imbedded itself into his back, puncturing his lung. The wave of charging Elves hacked mercilessly at the retreating Humans, but the sheer number of men, soon caused the Elves to regroup, giving the Humans time to do so as well. A series of attacks and retreats stretched throughout the first day, neither side ready to surrender.

Barskor's men had seen the smoke of battle rising from the east by the light of dawn. Barskor immediately rounded his ten best fighters and rode directly toward the sight. He had known that Elves had claimed the area. He had even seen one before, and knew they protected the Forest known as Teanthril. Perhaps they were in trouble. He would see if he could be of assistance to his mystical neighbors. His men trudged through brambles and moors, and finally reached the battlefield by nightfall. What he saw there shocked him to his boots. Hundreds of Humans and dozens of Elves littered the field of battle. Some of the Humans raised a shout of joy when they saw his men, but others, restrained the shouters, glancing angrily at Borskar and his troops. He and his men rode on toward the Elven encampment.

Up to that day, his only encounter with an Elf, Threandaran had been his name, had been pleasant, if a bit tense. He had assured the scout that his people would abide by the Elves wishes that Teanthril be left to their protection, and Threandaran has promised to relay Borskar's good faith to his people. That had been nearly two decades ago. As his men neared the encampment, a contingent of Elves rushed toward him, their delicate, but deadly sharp blades unsheathed. He prompted his men to immediately dismount, and as they did so, he raised his hands and formed a circle with his thumbs and small fingers, symbolizing peaceful intentions. When the Elves arrived, they grabbed the Humans and dragged them to the ground. "What is this about?" Borskar asked. Bearlstyl stepped forward, shield arm bandaged, and strapped to the front of his mail covered chest. "I cannot believe that even Humans are as unthinking as to ask such an obvious question, unless they were truly unaware." His eyes scanned Borskar's clothing. "You are not battle worn I see, " he continued, "You must be either reinforcements, or travelers."

Borskar looked directly into Bearlstyl's silver flecked eyes, and explained to him that he was from Tristram and knew nothing of this battle until seeing the smoke on the horizon. After long discussion Borskar realized that Mordrard's men had been about to attack Tristram. Initially wanting to side with the Elves, he was finally convinced to attempt a negotiation between the battling parties. However, a resentment among the encamped Human for both the Elves, and the people of Tristram, sent Borskar back to the Elvish camp to prepare for battle. As dawn's light drifted upon the battlefield, and both sides lined up for another series of battle, a shout of alarm arose from both sides. In the sky, a form descended toward the field of battle. The Dragon had finally returned.

In the scramble for cover, Elves and Humans seemed to have settled their differences. Archers from both sides took their aim and readied their arrows. Bearlstyl stood in the center of the clearing, a staff replacing his sword. He had torn his breathing scarf in two, and handed the other half to the only being standing with him, Borskar. Wrapping the scarf around his face as Bearlstyl had done, he prepared to fight. The mighty green beast swooped down upon the clearing, as hundreds of arrows rose to meet it. Their sharp tips were easily deflected by the thick scales all over its body. Two seemed to bite, but the sheer thickness of the dragon's natural armor absorbed most of the shaft. Flying low over it's prey, the dragon exhaled a cloud of greenish gas along the northern most part of the clearing, at the edge of the forest. Men and Elves gasped and coughed. A few managed a feeble attempt at striking the creature's underbelly. A talon plucked an unlucky man from his fellows and though he struggled and stabbed, he was deposited into the gaping maws of the flying nightmare, never to be seen again

. The beast rose into the air and wheeled for a second attack. Its first had claimed nearly fifty lives. The next attack came from the southern side of the clearing, along the low edge of the hill. The largest group of fighters had positioned themselves there, clear of the initial attack. They had no chance. The cloud of gas claimed almost seventy Humans and Elves before they could scale the hill. With its claws reaching, the Dragon snatched another man, and swallowed him rather easy. The gas had all but killed him when he was caught. Some, desperate or brave actually leapt onto the Dragon as it passed. Most were shaken off. but a few were able to drive their swords deep into the monster's hide. Unfortunately, as the beast rose in the air, it corkscrewed, sending all but one Elf, Fraeminia, Bearlstyl's only child, to their deaths a hundred feet below on the rocky hill. The Elf maiden warrior held tightly onto a blade buried deeply into the back of the dragon's neck.

As the best reared upward, it left its underbelly exposed to Bearlstyl and Borskar. The Mayor of Tristram rushed forward, but the dragon had already ascended to far to reach. Bearlstyl raised his staff and muttered an Elven command. A fireball easily the size of a horse burst from the wooden rod. The dragon caught ablaze immediately. Its wings burned away in a matter of seconds, and the beast plummeted to the ground. Borskar remained directly below the dragon, sword raised high. As the creature struck the ground, Borskar's sword plunged deep into the dragon's chest, even as he was obliterated. As the fireball had struck the dragon, Fraeminia has driven her sword deep into the beast's neck, and punctured its chlorine gas bladder. As the releasing gas began to choke her, the chlorine ignited, ending her misery in that instant.

The Dragon itself had ignited outside and inside. If it could only survive the fall, perhaps a quickly memorized healing spell would undo the damage. But a sword had ceased the beating of its heart before it could utter the few words of its spell. Thus ended the life of Ghorastubaragost, the Green hunter.

Mordrard's few remaining warriors left that day for parts south of Teanthril. They eventually settled in the land of Jemeldred, which thrived for about seventy years before the hordes of Hurlkaan laid waste to their city. But that is a separate tale. Two of Borskar's men returned to Tristram to spread word of Borskar's death, and events that followed. The gates of the village eventually opened again, but the circumstances behind that decision are a maze of politics that have no place in this story.

The remaining men of Borskar, five altogether, remained in Teanthril with a few of Bearlstyl's Elves, and within the next seven years had constructed Teanthril Fortress. It was a magnificent creation, combining magic and nature, Human and Elven skill. Seeming a part of nature, winding its way through, and being very much a part of the trees themselves, and towering out of the earth, like a natural marble and organic marriage. Four of the Humans remained as caretakers of Teanthril till their deaths. Thriond, Vaarmigin, Lorthar, and Dustalfo helped to keep the area of Teanthril free of Human spoilage, and goblin infestation for nearly another thirty years, until one by one, the gods called them to the silver hall.

When Teanthril Fortress was complete, Bearlstyl declared that this land was no longer suitable for his people. Too many Humans were settling in all areas near them, and there were other lands that Elves could patrol freely. They bid their Human friends farewell and left for Elven lands of legend. As they departed, one of the Humans of Borskar's patrol asked to accompany them on their journey. He knew that the Elves could teach him of magics unknown even to his mage and teacher in Tristram. After some reluctance, the Elves agreed to take a Human of some thirty five years with them. Quaythescus bade his fellows fair winds and following seas and left with Bearlstyl. Now, after years of abandonment, the forgotten mystical halls of Teanthril Fortress are filled again. It stands not as a haunted ruin, but of the last defense of Good against the Evil that is again rising. The prophesy has come full circle. The Equalizers have arrived.