Chapter 1
Rowan Hale swore as he tripped over yet another thorny branch that he swore seemed to pop up out of the ground with the sole intent to either stab through his boot or rip his shins to shreds. The old overgrown woodland seemed to press in from all sides, oppressing your very senses. Even sunlight seemed to be under assault beneath the thick canopy. The Thorny Forest was living up to its name.
Of course that is just what humans called it. The elves had some odd, long, overly poetic name for this place who no human could properly pronounce and let the pointy ears feel superior to the “human mongrels”. It was all par for the course of this war, a war that had raged on for nearly a century without end. Throughout Rowan’s upbringing and schooling he was told of the Elven scourge that threatened to wipe out humanity and the Great Crusade meant to end it. Though neither side could truly remember what started this war, or what seemed to perpetuate it without end.
A quick chilled breeze nipped at Rowan’s neck, causing him to adjust his dark green cloak that covered his light hardened leather chest piece which was strapped down over a shirt of chainmail. His leather trousers were unarmored, perfect for reducing noise and allowing for greater mobility, though his boots, which rose to mid-shin, did provide some protection. His left hand rested on the pommel of his single-handed straight sword on his left hip, while his right made sure the quiver of arrows for his short bow was secured to his belt on his right side. A simple leather satchel containing some rations along with a few first aid supplies: bandages, salves, and a few healing potions.
He stopped for a minute and ran a hand through his short dark brown hair as he looked up trying to spot the sun so he could regain his sense of direction, but the thick canopy allowed only the smallest rays of sunlight through to the forest floor. He scratched at his facial hair, usually kept short, but grown out since he embarked on this patrol. A patrol from which he got separated while examining some strange tracks. He thought he had only cast his eyes down for a moment, but when he turned around, the rest of his patrol had vanished as if translated into the forest itself.
A rustling sound from somewhere in the distance caught his attention. The close quarters nature of the forest made his short bow impractical so with his right hand, he drew his straight sword and carefully made his way to where he thought the sound came from. He heard the sound again and shifted his course to the direction the sound seemed to come from, his eyes shifting from the horizon to the forest floor, careful not to trip on any more vines or roots.
Gingerly he made his way forward, each step measured and light to disguise his approach. He stopped for a moment when he heard what sounded like a grunt, but unable to see anything through the dense foliage, he pressed on.
Step by step he moved forward, adrenaline causing his heart to pound in his ears as he heard more rustling followed by muttering her couldn’t quite understand, coming from the other side of a cluster of trees. As he rounded the trees he came into a small clearing. The first thing to catch his eye was a leather boot not of human make. It twitched then dragged across the forest floor. Another few steps and the owner of the foot came into view and Rowan’s breath stopped short.
Before him a female elven warrior pulled herself into a sitting position against a tree, her long blond hair disheveled and dirty. Her armor, earth-toned hardened leather not too dissimilar from his own save for the lack of a mail shirt and the light metal pauldrons cover her shoulders, was marred and torn as though some beast had rent it apart with its claws. Her trousers were similarly torn, her hands covering a large gash on her left thigh. She looked up and stared at him with striking silver eyes, that widened in fear and anger once they registered what they were looking at.
She let go of her leg with her right hand and reached into the dirt grabbing her curved elvish blade, raising it defensively toward Rowan.
“Don’t you dare come any closer human” she said in a voice she clearly meant to be threatening but was weakened by her current physical state, “or I will cut you down where you stand.”
Rowan raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the elf. “It doesn’t look like you are in any condition to cut down anything elf.”
She raised her chin defiantly, “You may kill me, but I will make sure you bleed before you do and my kin will find you and finish the job.”
Rowan studied her face, noticing the twinges of pain that threatened to overwhelm her. The gash on her leg was still actively bleeding, blood soaking into the ground beneath her. His experience and training told him that even an injured elf was still a deadly foe to contend with, and he should kill her without a second thought. But think he did, realizing quickly that while this elven woman, someone he was sworn to kill, was in no condition to fight and therefore not a threat.
He held up a placating left hand, while sheathing his sword with his right. He then reached into his hip bag, pulling out a small, corked vial containing a dark red liquid.
The elf looked at him confused. “You think to poison me?”
“Not at all.” Rowan said, shaking his head. “This is a minor healing potion. It may not heal your leg completely, but it should at the very least stop you from bleeding out.”
The elf’s confusion turned into anger. “And you think I should just trust the word of a human mongrel? I have no need for your pity or mercy! My kin will have noticed me missing and will be here any minute to rescue me!”
He stepped forward anyway, slow and deliberate, stopping just at the edge of her reach. “You don’t have to trust me,” he said, holding the vial out between them. “But you do have to decide. Bleed out here… or take the chance that your kin will find you, if they are even looking.”
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The forest held its breath around them. Then, somewhere deeper in the Thorny Forest, something shifted; branches snapping, heavy and deliberate. Close enough this time to make the choice for them.
