Later that day, as a blood-red sunset was sitting on the horizon, the Listening Trees were standing in a line, rigid and fearful. They had little strategy save for determination and the fact that Miaed would march in the front. She knew her time was short, and that the following battle was likely to take her life. However, she would go in service of the world, and she knew that the spirits of her people were lower and sadder than ever. It was unlikely many of them would survive, and still the roaring wind blew around them
Finally, the first of the troll's war horns could be heard. Their mood was lightened somewhat when the first of the birds could be seen, flying over the dark mass on the horizon that was the troll's army. They screeched and dropped rocks on the enemy, all the while leading them to the funnel of rocks. Less than ten trolls would be able to fit through the pointed end of the funnel at a time, but there it would open up and all of the Listening Trees would be waiting.
The last strands of light were fading from the sky when more of the forms in the sky were recognizable. Fifteen pegasuses, about thirty bats, and even three grifons, accompanied the multitude of birds. Still, the entire army palled before the horde of grey-skinned, brutish trolls. Each had a spear, mace, or short sword painted black and a large shield made of hard red wood. They shouted in delight when they saw the trees, and rushed forward to meet their foe.
Suddenly, Miaed saw a tall figure in the fromt of the army, adorned with rich armour and a billowing cape. He was no troll. What means this? thought Miaed.