All had been quiet in Grimstead for years, even those that knew the truth about its dark past had all but forgotten settling into there mundane little lives. Most of the inhabitants plodded along oblivious to the strange forces at work, having never known about the strange curse that surrounded the forest or the magic running though the earth and on the wind.
Tarik had made a critical error, he thought the forest had been weakening and had been unable to keep them trapped he thought his family had escaped the forests clutches but he was wrong. The forest had let them go.
The forest danced to a different beat now, no longer did it writhe unconsciously, it had been gifted intelligence and it was mad. It had a new master, A master with plans to make Grimstead pay.
Deep in a cave high in the mountains they planned, gathering an army to come down on Grimstead fast and hard, now one would survive they where confident of that. Grimsteads forces where weak, small in comparison Henry’s Army is it could even be called that, numbered at less than 20 men.
They where hundreds and they where strong….