Chapter One, Part One
Leaves rustled and fell, causing sunlight to filter through. Predatory birds blustered to the wind. Below, a figure shifts beneath a growing pile of detritus, revealing a feminine face with pointed ears; an elf. She was covered in dirt, clothes that were once elegant hunting garments tattered and frayed. Her gloved hand raised to block the new rays of sunlight.
The elf’s head swivels, taking in her surroundings as she grabs for her bow. Surroundings clear, the elf relaxes and stands, a breath releasing from her lungs. Her serpent-green eyes look over the bow. It was large, nearly the size of her, and still in good condition. If there was one thing the elves had made to last, it was their weapons.
It’s slung, limbs to her back. The elf reached down and grabbed her quiver, doing a quick count of the arrows - ten left. She’d have to make more soon, but for now the quiver was fastened to her waist. She brushes the stray dread that had fallen back, gathering her hair in a bundle. She ties it off. Ready, her hands clap together, ridding them of the dirt as she headed further into the dense forest.
Dense, but the vegetation was going dormant with the season. Carefully she walked through the leaves, making little noise, as expected of an elf. Not too long ago, these woods were resistant to the weather, forever green. Much like the denizens within, she thought with a frown. Soon it’d start to get cold, and she’d need to fashion warmer clothing. She looked about for tracks. It’d be nice to find a bear. She was just on the edge of the marshes though, so it was unlikely.
Heading into the damp ground was undesirable, so she climbs a tree, looking down from the branches for predators. The drakes here got huge, and were territorial. They made for decent food though, and if nothing else she could use the hide as a cloak. Good for breaking the chill winds once they start rolling in. She treads across the branches to the next tree, going deeper in the marsh. There were no carrion birds around in the branches, which made traversal easier. If they were to see her and scatter they might tip off any larger predators, who’d flee if they saw the elf.
Luck was with her today. Before long she found a drake, big, green, and scaly. They had hard spines along their backs, and large fangs. Deadly up close. The elf grabs her bow and an arrow, stepping ahead another tree for a better vantage. A branch groans and snaps beneath her weight as she went to the next. The drake didn’t seem to notice, and she nocks the arrow and draws back.
Just as she went to release a shrill voice shouts out.
“Rolan, watch out!”
It was too late, the arrow was flown.
