Syla was excited as she made her way across the countryside. It was rare for her to set foot outside of the small village of Trindoor. She had been raised by a local woman after her parents were murdered by a raiding party. The woman, the town doctor, had training in mystic arts from a former career she spoke only of in hints. It was her desire to raise Syla, and train her, to become a guardian and a force to be reckoned with for the poorly defended village. The woman succeeded, Syla showing natural aptitude for the brand of wild, hedge magic the woman taught. By her early teens, Syla had exceeded her mentor's skills, by twenty she was easily dealing with the brigands and the few threats that came into the village.<br/><br/>Now, at twenty-four, she had set out to accomplish a truly great task: plunder a tomb of legend and bring back enough riches so that her village would prosper. Syla no longer wanted to just defend her home, she wanted to help it flourish, and if the stories were true then her destination would offer up more than enough to make that happen.<br/><br/>Her teacher, now quite aged, had implored her not to go. This was an unnecessary risk, she said. The village needed Syla, not gold. But Syla was confident in her talents and was not to be dissuaded.<br/><br/>She marveled at the crowded streets of Amphail. This was not a backwater village like her home, this was a place of bustling commerce and busy life. She wasn't accustomed to being approached by strangers offering aid, and some offering more crude enticements.<br/><br/>At one point a drunk had lurched from a tavern just as Syla walked past. His eyes lit up upon seeing her, and he cried out, "Ah! A magic caster no doubt! Let me see yer charms, pretty witch," he said, giggling as he wriggled her fingers in the direction of her bosom.<br/><br/>By now this wasn't the first such entreaty she had received in town. Syla gave him a half smirk.<strong>"As you wish,"</strong>she said, curling her fingers in the air as she walked. The drunk felt invisible fingers clench at his cock and balls, gripping and twisting.<br/><br/>"Ehgads!" he gasped, clutching his crotch and dropping to his knees in pain. Onlookers snickered as the man wheezed, and no one else harassed her.<br/><br/>By the time she found herself in the wilds again she was glad. There was peace in the wilderness, much like the calm of her home village. Towns and cities were fine for some folk, she pondered, but at heart she was a simple country girl. Trees and meadows and open, smokeless skies were where she felt most comfortable.<br/><br/>Finding the low lying hill she sought proved to be difficult. Syla was patient, using the lore she had acquired and looking for signs of the entrance. A smile broke across her face as she realized she had found it, but that smile faltered as the enormous creature loomed into view.<br/><br/>That was no man. A giant? Perhaps, although Syla had never seen one. More likely he was an ogre. Syla wasn't sure, she just knew that he was likely very dangerous.<br/><em><br/>The first of many dangers, I am sure,</em>she thought.<br/><br/>In defense of her village she had faced brigands, sometimes in groups. She had beat down murderous thugs and more than a few ranging orcs. She had once bested a wicked warrior who had thought he could conquer Trindoor by his lonesome and she had destroyed a dozen walking skeletons who had once risen from their graves in answer to a dire curse. She had never seen something like the lurching creature she now saw.<br/><br/>Syla needed to get into the caverns, so she would have to deal with the sentinal, if that is what he was. She took a deep breath and stepped forward. She thought perhaps to make herself invisible and attempt to slip past him, but she decided to conserve her energies and try talking to him first. She didn't know what lay within that hill, and she might need every reserve of power she could muster up.<br/><br/><strong>"Greetings large one!" </strong>she cried out while still at some distance.