The shield land pushed up through the thick mossy forest floor, appearing like snapped massive shelves of grey broken bones. Clumps of tall evergreens with branches decorated in green hanging ribbons of delicate wing moss clustered about on the wind swept hills. La Maseon stood utterly motionless. Before him the ground rolled down to a sharp valley at the bottom. Across the valley rose the towering mountain and attending ridges that formed the Lenthen (South) edge of the Black Lakes. He could peak the edges of the lake from here, and truly it was black, even in this midday sun.

The forest stopped here close to the summit, some phenomenon prevented trees from growing here to the valley. Perhaps it was natural, perhaps the effort of man, or perhaps it was magical. It might be worth him inspecting closer at some future point. Whatever the case was, this is the reason this area formed one of the borders being created recently to keep the Spider Queendoms checked and contained. Easy to patrol, easy to see. Already a body of men had organized and was being formed. Known as the Trerr Valec, or Trerrvaulcers, or more colloquially, as he discovered from the locals, as the Yellow Guard. A troop of whom, with their yellow banners, and yellow tabbards, he was now watching crossing the hill in front of him.

He could go and make the crossing now, but he knew it would only provoke unneeded issue with those men should he do so. And possibly the waste of their number. Le Mason’s eyes flashed with red, and he found himself on his knees, great clumps of earth and grass in his left fist, his hammer thrust deep into the ground in his right. Had he screamed? He did not know, he felt like the memory of that moment was lost. He did not think so. Rage. Brought on by the possibility of delay? If not, then what? 

[Should this rage episode be removed? I wrote it before you mentioned the rarity of it’s occurrence.]

Crossing the Border

It appeared as though the patrol had not noticed him in his moment of rage. He had waited laid out on the ground, watching the clouds. Meditating. Trying to keep his mind empty of all. Looking for the comfort of nothingness. He accomplished the trying and looking part. A growing concern was that such meditation was a fools task made for fools. Or was that just a rationalization to excuse his own inabilities?

It was now an hour after sunfall. He stood.

The patrol had passed this area hours before. He was certain he had minimized the danger of encountering them. He couldn’t take into account patrol frequency, it would require too much time to discover what that was, and also increase the risk of being found and confronted. He would go now.

Le Mason, strode out of the small copse of trees at the top of the hill and started loping down towards the lake with great strides, seemingly heedless of the rough variance of the wild terrain. He made quick time and soon reached the sharp termination of the slope in its narrow valley. He turned towards the water run and flowed the small rivulet towards the edge of the lake.

The lake

The lake was indeed a broad expanse of darkness. At night it should be a reflection of the nightly heavens, but even those seemed dulled. Le Mason estimated a diminishment in brightness in those reflections of at least half. How was that possible? Contemplating this query he came upon another, lake bodies typically had their flows and currents dictated to by wind movement​ yet this lake seemed overly placid in the face of the strong breezes he could feel pulling at his beard. Sure the lake surface was affected, but it seemed only to be very reluctant in doing so.

Sticking his hand into the water at the edge the water seemed normal. Perhaps the strange effects only occurred towards the deeper parts. It was hard to judge but the shore did indeed seem to reflect more brightly.

As he understood the map given him, this shore formed part of the patrolled border, the large mountain to Alus (East) was used for the Trerrvaulcers as a means to watch and as a location to locate their central command, and they had created a large depot guarded by a fortress on the spur of land that ran into the middle of the lake. He could not make out any of their structures in the darkness, and knew that in any case the Yellow Gaurd used hidden lookouts that frequently changed to keep watch. If they had noticed them he had no indication. The efficacy of the whole enterprise of the Yellow Gaurd seemed questionable in his mind. The logistical complications alone… Did the Gaurd really think it could stop the Queens if those Queens decided to expand?

He decided to skirt along lake shore to the left and around the Naulen (West) side. The terrain there was subject to become very rough according to the map, with shear cliffs likely going right to the edge of the lake, but he felt that in his current state it would provide less hindrance than actually having to deal with the Guard.

Le Macon walked along the pebble strewn shallows, keeping his view to his right and the lake. As he proceeded the shore was indeed becoming far rougher and the left landward side increasing in steepness and becoming far more broken up as it dis so. Many sheered, shard edged boulders now had to be circumnavigated, and he was getting pushed farther out into the lake.

Once he was up to his knees in the water , Le Macon, decided to pause. He could indeed see sheer cliffs now encroaching on the shore and at some points the water itself, up ahead. Inevitably he’d be pushed far out enough that he’d either have to walk the bottom, or swim. And he had no idea how steep the terrain was under the lake. Nor of the currents.

Dipping his hand into the water again and bringing it up he could perceive something else in the water. It fell from his hand with the water. He bent down for a closer look. Trailing through his hands with thin long traces of black fibers, in fact, it was hair. Looking further out over the lake he finally noticed something that had been niggling at him at the back of his mind.

Ever since he had again risen, he had been able to see more than that which light illuminates. Or perhaps it was a different sense. But through out the world he could now see the silvery iridescent threads of life and all they gave shape to, or at least a little bit. He was told, by those who also introduced him to the council that it was a latent form of Veil Sight, and could possibly be developed. He was also told that his manifestation of it was just very low, but that others had full access to it should they desire. He wasn’t sure he did. He worried it would pull at him too hard.
And that was the anomaly that was now disturbing him, a noticeably subdued amount of the tendrils of life that should be covering and emerging from the lake.

‘So,’ he said, ‘this is the start of the Queendoms.’

Note: Four directions (perhaps more?) Alus= East, also the prime direction people refer to, Lenth[en] = South, Naul[en] = West [All subject to change and refinement, Ziath = North?