Prologue

Throughout the Second Age, War of the Ring, and on into the reign of King Aragorn of Gondor and Arnor, The Elven folk could be seen boarding great ships to head west, to the mysterious Undying Lands to live out the passing ages in peace and tranquility. But not all of the Elves abandoned Middle Earth , there were those who were unwilling to forsake their home, although it was understood that the time of the Elves was coming to an end. The kingdoms of Men were becoming the chief empires of the Fourth Age, the few Elves that remained were content to allow the rise of Men to begin... But there is greed in the hearts of mortals, and ultimately it would spell the end of the time of Elves altogether. The Elves still possessed many a rare and magical artifact, chief among them the lesser rings, and these were kept safe and unused in the heart of their forests and halls. The sons of Men, blinded by greed and overcome with jealousy for the priceless magical items, formed an alliance with the Dwarf peoples to crusade against the remaining Elves. Overpowered ten to one and with no hope of escape, the Elves surrendered, their precious relics were stolen and their cities looted. But, to the utter horror of the Kings of Men, the relics had no power left in them, for with the destruction of the Great Ring came the diminishing of the lesser ring's power as well. Their anger was kindled against the few Elves who had survived the short-lived war, and a mass annihilation was called against the 'deceitful and treacherous' Elves. For the next nine hundred years, a decree was sent forth that any and all Elves were to be killed on sight. This law was happily and zealously obeyed. Sightings of Elves grew more and more uncommon, until they were all but forgotten, except in jest and legend. Their legend grew to be obscure as well, and the Elvish race sank into the darkest depths of history, forgotten by all but a few...


The Ranger

A tall oak stood in the forest outside the township of Bree. A Ranger by the name of Faelwen, hooded and cloaked, as was the custom of such folk, sat high in it's branches. The sun was just beginning to sink below the treetops, streaks of pink and orange flashing across the sky in the eerie twilight. The ranger brushed her windblown hair from her face. She leaned back, hidden from sight in the leafy boughs, watching the road with a jealous eye. She was rather tall, by the standard of most, but that was easily credited to being one of the Dunedain of the North. She was strong as well, overall a strong, imposing person, though athletic in figure. This made hiding in trees slightly more difficult, but it was also handy in this line of work. She was nice enough to look at, but didn't seem to take much time on her appearance. She just had much more important things on her mind than looks. Yesterday there had been reports of a robbery; supposedly, the thief escaped by use of this particular road. Faelwen did not intend to let any other perpetrators escape by a similar route.


A small, thin form wove expertly through the crowded streets, remaining unnoticed in the rabble of men and dwarves. He moved quickly and quietly, slipping through the loud, quarreling crowds with his head down and his eyes on the ground like one wishing to pass unnoticed. The wraithlike figure wore an old black hood, which kept his face and body completely obscured, except for his small, pale hands. He turned a corner and made his way down a narrow alley. When he was out of sight from the main street, he slid down the sooty wall and sat quivering behind a pile of debris, clutching his midsection. He stayed there for a moment, feeling his strength waning. He took a deep breath and rose unsteadily. The gossamer figure made his way to an obscure iron gate; he hesitated, thinking, planning, and then slipped through the wide bars. He ran for the woods outside the city, pausing before the shadowy, ominous woods, he took in a breath and plunged into the darkness.

The ranger lifted her head, listening intently. Footsteps, coming this way. Whoever or whatever it was seemed to be moving very quickly, but it was hard to hear. Almost without her noticing, a dark shadow slipped into view. It was unclear just what that black hood concealed. It was very quiet, and stepped lightly. It was a little too short to be a Man but too tall to be a Dwarf. It seemed afraid, looking over it's shoulder often, and pausing as if to rest before rushing on again. I don't like this, Faelwen thought, watching the figure draw closer. the hood, and the running, and the suspicious attitude, it's more than likely another thief. It wrapped it's cloak more tightly around itself, shuddering in the cool night air. It was completely unaware of the ranger in the tree, that much was clear. Faelwen drew back her bow, but changed her mind and decided that it would be wiser to question them before shooting. She slid along the branch until she was directly over the road, right where the man in question would pass.

The ghostly form paused directly below the ranger, listening for any signs of pursuit. He heard scuffling sound, and looked up just in time to see the ranger jumping out of the tree. He searched frantically for a knife, an arrow, anything to defend himself with, but he wasn't fast enough. The ranger landed squarely on the hapless figure, plowing him facedown into the dirt. She heard a cracking noise coming from the small person and eased off a bit of the pressure, just enough to not injure the character, at least, not yet... "What is your purpose here?" She asked in a low, frightening voice. The poor figure didn't answer, he couldn't, actually, he couldn't breathe either. Faelwen saw the problem and eased off a little more. "What is your purpose here?" She asked, louder. The figure still did not reply. She jerked up the helpless figure and held him against a tree by his throat. "What is your purpose here!" The ranger nearly shouted. The figure didn't reply. The ranger looked down just in time to see that the figure had somehow managed to get ahold of an arrow, and was preparing to try and kill the ranger. She dropped the figure and they slid, startled, down the tree onto the ground. "I see what you have there!" The ranger gloated, gesturing to the arrow.

"NO! I shall die a thousand deaths before it passes through the hands of men again!" He screamed wildly, throwing his whole weight, which was not a lot, against Faelwen, bowling them both over. regaining his footing, he ran for all he was worth deeper into the forest. what just happened? Faelwen thought, bewildered by this unexpected turn of events. She looked at the ground, it was wet with blood. Now I know I didn't do that! but there was no time to think about that now, she had to find that thief, and quick. She took off after the skittish criminal.