Garion looked down at his bare feet. He was standing on blackened earth. He had no memory of how he had come to be here. He took a moment to survey the landscape around him. He was in a wasteland. The kind he had seen in the aftermath of forest fires in his childhood. A red sky extended across the landscape. Vast purple clouds rolling angrily across the heavens. To his right were the burnt remains of what appeared to be a massive throned vine extending over the horizon. Seeing no other landmark in the desolate landscape, Garion began to follow the dead plant.

As he walked, he began to take stock of his situation. He realised as he was walking, he had no clothes. His cloak and clothing were gone. So too, he realized, was the acorn he wore around his neck. Seeing no way of changing the situation, Garion picked up the pace. Although it seemed to be pleasantly warm at the moment, he had no wish to see if the temperature dropped at night here.

He came to the crest of a hill. Now he could see the end of the vines he had been walking next too. They extended down the hill into a valley at the centre, of which several other vines converged with it. At the point the vines collided, a small ruined building jutted forth into the landscape. Garion jogged to the building. As he got closer, a small archway came into view, where a door had once stood. Garion stepped up to threshold and looked inside. The octagonal room was small with stone walls. In its centre was a trapdoor which lay open, a ladder extending down below the burnt landscape. Aside from the ladder and trapdoor Garion could see nothing else of interest inside the room.

He stepped inside, half-expecting monstrous beings to appear and charge at him. But nothing happened. He let out a breathe of relief. And crossed the chamber to the ladder. He looked down, the ladder extended down further than he could see. He tentatively picked up a small pebble from the stone floor and dropped it down into the void. The pebble descended out of sight. Garion listened. No sound came back up the shaft.

Garion began to climb down the ladder. The cold metal rungs were soothing compared to the rough wasteland of before. He counted the rungs as he climbed down. The count helped him to keep pace as he descend downwards. By rung one-hundred, he began to thought about when his arms and legs would begin to tire, by two-hundred, he wondered when the shaft would end. By four hundred he considered letting go, just to see what could happen. At rung number five-hundred-five, the shaft finally opened out. Into another vast landscape.

As Garion continued climbed downwards towards the land, he looked up. The ladder appeared to open out of a silvery cloud. He reached the bottom of the ladder. As he stepped onto the ground, the ladder ascended upwards back into the cloud leaving him stranded in this new landscape.

Soft red grass was beneath his feet now, and a vast dark purple sky extended out above him, the single silver cloud now just a wisp of smoke on the horizon. He could hear a loud drumbeat, echoing across the landscape from ahead of him. Just as before he had followed the dead vines. This time he began to walk towards the echoing sound. And just as before, he came to the crest of a hill top.

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From here he could see beneath him the source of the drum beat. In the centre of the valley burned a bright fire of a dark crimson, around the flames were great giants made of stone. One of the goliath creatures was beating out a crude drumbeat while at least a dozen others danced a ritual dance around the fire.

As Garion walked down the hill towards the giants he crossed an unseen line in the grass. He was suddenly stuck with dizziness. He had the sudden feeling to be on a tree branch but with every surface of his skin rather than just the soles of his hands and feet. The feeling passed. He looked at his hands. They were no longer his human hands. As he tried to move his fingertips, he was amazed to see fingers of oak branches moving where his should have been.

He continued his walk towards the stone giants. His new form more aligned with that of the dancing giants. As he came into view of the circle, the drum beat ceased. The dancing giant came to a halt, eyeing the wooden newcomer with suspicion.

The drummer stood up from the large boulder he had been using as a stool and walked to meet Garion. “Name yourself stranger. You tread upon scared grounds.” The stone drummer said in a voice that sounded like an avalanche.

“Forgive me friend.” Garion responded, his own voice that of a falling tree during a storm. “I am merely a traveller in this place, I am Garion Greensleeves, Wizard of the glade.”

The giants shared anxious whispers amongst themselves in tones too low for Garion to make out. “Move on, little tree, We Gather here to honour the Wizard of Brackenfell” said The Drummer. This brought a chuckled from the dozen or so stone giants.

“But I am the Wizard of Brackenfell” exclaimed Garion, unable to stop himself in the face of the taunting laughter.

This stopped the laughter. “Lies” hissed the Stone Giants.

“I speak truth I am serving as the court wizard for Brackenfell Castle” Garion said more to the group than to the drummer addressing him.

The drummer drew back his great stone club he had been drumming with earlier. “You do not leave. You insult us with lies. You are no more then a servant of Bloodsuckers and Snakes. Begone Wizard tree” the drummer roared. The crowd of giant whooped and jeered ad he launched the stone club into Garion's chest. As the club struck his chest, his ears were filled with the sound of splintering wood. He gasped for air as he saw the stone giant lifting another huge club. He heard the stone whistling through the air, a roaring sound filled his ears.

His head struck the library floor as he tumbled from the hammock. He looked to the window. It was dawn. His spell for unbroken sleep had broken. He was covered in sweat. He would have to be more careful in future with that spell. It had seemed so real.

He mulled over the Stone Giants parting words.. Bloodsuckers and Snakes. A message maybe? An insult? No, he thought finally, he would take it as a warning.