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doug*platypus · 12-31-2002, 12:34 AM

It was early afternoon when the band of men neared the edge of the wood. They were strung out single-file, and only the first few initially saw what their leader did. They stopped in their tracks as their fellows joined them.

Their leader shaded his eyes against the bright light; his party had been in the closeness of the forest for the last two days of their journey, hunting. Across the other side of the flat, open meadows before them, he saw what could only be the Elvenwood. There seemed to be an unnatural light coming from the very trees themselves! And it was brighter the deeper he looked into the heart of the forest. This was yet another one time he doubted the wisdom of this venture.

"The Elvenwood," he said to his two closest companions, other brave leaders of the Easterlings, "surely it must be as perilous as we have heard. I wonder now if this raid be worth our necks. What things of value we shall find time may tell.
"Rogar!" he spoke to the large man nearest to him. "Drop the beast, we rest here until nightfall. I will not risk the open fields by day."

"Aye, Skara," the man grunted, slinging the huge buck off his shoulders and onto the ground. One of his companions made towards the carcass to divide it, stopping first at it's antlers to claim his trophy. The weaponsmith had made a brave strike to bring the beast down, and the magnificent 20-pointer was his to do with as he would.

Skara quickly counted his men, making sure all thirteen were there and none straggling, before posting some of the younger ones as guards. The Woodsman did not fear the Elvenwood as much as he had when a boy. And tales had now come to his village of daring raids into the Elves' territory, to steal animals or to hunt. One party from close to the Great Forest had even claimed to have seen one of the mysterious sentinels, and given him some bruises to carry home with him before he could escape. Nevertheless, these Elves were not to be trifled with. Although some of his companions carried much anger and hate towards the Fair Folk, Skara himself would rather return empty-handed than not at all. But, yes, time would tell how they would fare. He rested and awaited the night.

[ January 01, 2003: Message edited by: doug*platypus ]

12-31-2002, 12:34 AM	#10
doug*platypus Delver in the Deep Join Date: Dec 2002 Location: Aotearoa Posts: 960	It was early afternoon when the band of men neared the edge of the wood. They were strung out single-file, and only the first few initially saw what their leader did. They stopped in their tracks as their fellows joined them. Their leader shaded his eyes against the bright light; his party had been in the closeness of the forest for the last two days of their journey, hunting. Across the other side of the flat, open meadows before them, he saw what could only be the Elvenwood. There seemed to be an unnatural light coming from the very trees themselves! And it was brighter the deeper he looked into the heart of the forest. This was yet another one time he doubted the wisdom of this venture. "The Elvenwood," he said to his two closest companions, other brave leaders of the Easterlings, "surely it must be as perilous as we have heard. I wonder now if this raid be worth our necks. What things of value we shall find time may tell. "Rogar!" he spoke to the large man nearest to him. "Drop the beast, we rest here until nightfall. I will not risk the open fields by day." "Aye, Skara," the man grunted, slinging the huge buck off his shoulders and onto the ground. One of his companions made towards the carcass to divide it, stopping first at it's antlers to claim his trophy. The weaponsmith had made a brave strike to bring the beast down, and the magnificent 20-pointer was his to do with as he would. Skara quickly counted his men, making sure all thirteen were there and none straggling, before posting some of the younger ones as guards. The Woodsman did not fear the Elvenwood as much as he had when a boy. And tales had now come to his village of daring raids into the Elves' territory, to steal animals or to hunt. One party from close to the Great Forest had even claimed to have seen one of the mysterious sentinels, and given him some bruises to carry home with him before he could escape. Nevertheless, these Elves were not to be trifled with. Although some of his companions carried much anger and hate towards the Fair Folk, Skara himself would rather return empty-handed than not at all. But, yes, time would tell how they would fare. He rested and awaited the night. [ January 01, 2003: Message edited by: dougplatypus ] __________________ But Gwindor answered: 'The doom lies in yourself, not in your name'.*