AUTHOR'S NOTE: The name of the book is still in progress if you have any ideas as to what to name it plz leave it in a review. I like this particular book that I am currently in progress of finishing up Chapter 2. The name of this story: A Dead World, is because I could not think and still can't think of a good name for the book, but I do have the story outlined and layed out. The characters, storyline/plot, and world discussed in this story is not at all related to Forgotten Realms. All content is personal and created out of nothing. The reason for posting in this area is that I could not find a certain area to really post it that would make sence. So I chose the Forgotten Realms because it is just one of those series that I really love!

PS: Well yes the Post Script is at the Begining of the Document this time...hehehe...but I did fix 90 of all Grammer and Spelling Errors IF you do find one that is a sore to look at please feel free to put it in the review and I will fix it up just for you!

Chapter 1/Prologue

The sounding of the wind roared through the Mountain tops while a Dark Cloaked Figure ran across an open field. The farm lands surrounding the area had been all but forgotten. Decades had past since a single farmer had touched the land allowing for more things to grow then just wild growth. The Twin Moons, Revern the White and Polen of the Forest, named for the gods who created the two moons, started to rise over the tree tops of a distant forest. Archrent Forest was more ancient then the living Elves memories. The field began to illuminate causing the figure to dart more quickly threw the tangled growth. The figure stopped just beside an old oak tree stump, cocking his head slightly to the left the cloak fluttered in the night air revealing pale chiseled features and dark, almost black, Emerald Green eyes. Listening to the wind pass by, the figure caught the sounds of distant camp fires. Feeling the wind press against his face he decided it was coming from the same direction as his course had taken him.

Looking back towards the south he noticed the distant flicks of touches as the hunting part pursued him. It wouldn't be long before they reached his position and not knowing quite where he was it was difficult to leave no trace at all for them to follow. Knowing that getting to the forest ahead was his only chance of truly escaping he pressed

on hoping that the camp fires where left behind and that was all. As he approached the forest he noticed a few orange spots dotting the forest boarder. Each probably its own

group or camp, he also noticed a rotting like smell emanating from the direction as well.

Once within shouting distance of the nearest camp he noticed that the posted sentries were Orc, assuming that the encampment to be a roaming Orc band he didn't feel up to a fight. Especially since the only gear he could nick before escaping his captures was a black cloak and a rusted threw dirk, which now hung off his left hip. Taking a quick look south he noticed the specks were more like dots now he had very little time to decide what to do. His only chance was to create enough chaos that he could slip into the trees while the two groups figured each other out. Deciding to wait till the captures got closer to alert the Orc sentries he hid in a crop of overgrowth about fifteen feet from the first Orc sentry.

The spots in the distance grew large enough that the stupid Orc finally began to wonder what they were. He waited for about a minute or two before deciding to alert his fellow's. As soon as he turned back to shout the figure acted. Standing from the overgrowth he took his rusted dirk and slid behind the Orc sentry. As soon as it finished its warning it turned and got a good look into the hood before losing all ability to make sound. Underneath the cloak were fine chiseled features of an Elf. His dark green eyes look strait into the Orcs almost dark yellow as he ran the dirk threw the unsuspecting creatures throat. It made a soft yelp and then began to gurgle up blood as it fell to the ground unable to breathe.

Throwing back the cloak's heavy hood the Elf let his shoulder length black hair fall free. Knotted and malted to his skin it made him look even more skeletal then he really was. Very pale features turned to look at the other Orc sentries finally approaching. There were three to approach first. Each looked no older then about 20 years and all looked the worst off it. Supporting many burses from in-camp brawls not a one looked to possess the knowledge of how to kill the creature in front of them. Forcing themselves to show what courage the cowardly creatures possessed, the Orcs began to close in on the elf. Two out of the three held pole arms while the third wielded a battleaxe, they began to surround the Elf trying to flank him and cut off escape routes. Which didn't matter because the Elf wanted to go strait threw the middle, the two on the sides mattered little to him. The inexperience of the axe wielder became apparent when he started towards the Elf holding the axe over his chest in a two hand hold trying to guard his body incase of a lunge.

His eyes belied his confidence as they shifted left and right to his fellow companions for support. Glancing down the elf noticed a lose short sword on the dead Orc's belt. Shifting the dirk to his left hand the Elf acted quickly. Dropping to the ground he rolled forward, and to the left angling away from the slicing axe. There was a hard thud as the axe hit the dirt where the elf was only moments before. Wrestling the axe from the ground the Orc didn't notice the elf rise from the ground now holding a gleaming, unrusted, short sword in his right hand. Positioned between the axe wielder and the second pole arm the Elf decided to dispatch the first Orc quickly. Lunging forward with the dirk the Orc swiped the flat side of the axe at the rusted blade.

Causing the dirk to be swept wide there was the ring of steel and a loud cracking sound from the dirk as it began to crack down the middle. Paying the damaged blade no heed the Elf spun with the motion of the block while reversing the grip on the short sword. The Orcs eyes lit up at the Elf's obvious mistake the axe reversed its motion as the stronger being went in to cleave the Elf in half. The Orc stopped all of a sudden dropping the axe. The two other sentries watched in awe as the axe hit the ground never to reach its intended mark. The Orc slid backwards slowly off the short blade as the Elf finished it by ripping the blade back out turning in the direction of the closes remaining sentries. The Orc on his left decided that he didn't quite like the idea of staying to fight the Elf and ran right past him into the encampment. The spots of flame from the torches started to show the details of the figures as they rushed in quickly. The third Sentry was taken down by an arrow the force of the blow caused the body to close the distance between itself and the Elf.

The assailant, an aged Human man, started to reach for another arrow, readying the bow to fire at his next target. Ignoring the old man the Fleeing Elf's eyes settled on the middle figure. Draped in laverous white robes of the Order of Davine, the figure eyes pierced the very soul of the Elf's being. Suppressing a shudder the elf began to sprint in the direction of the Orc encampment attempting to use the Orcs as a diversion of the search parties efforts. The Orcs in the encampment paid little heed to the passing Elf as they ran head on as one towards the band of men at the edge of camp. The Human archer let another arrow loose and it thudded into the soft earth right next to the Elf's passing legs. The sound of another arrow leaving the bow was soon followed by the sound of a dead body being blown into the ground again as the fleeing Elf approached the edge of the encampment and forest.

"YOU SHALL DIE FOR THIS RIVAN! I SHALL KILL YOOOUUU!!" The shout pierced the night causing the elf to stop and turn about. His eyes Emerald eyes falling to rest on the archer. The speed and grace of the old man, as he repeatedly fired arrows into the mass of oncoming Orc, would have made many an Elf jealous. Disregarding the humans attempt to anger, Rivan turned and started towards the forest edge. A wandering Orc, probably one that was only trying to take what it could and leave while it had the chance came across the elf as he started into the forest line. Deciding that it was hungry and a feast to itself would not be that bad of an idea. He started after the elf but after passing the first tree the dark figure flashed behind the Orc letting the shining short blade slide into the Orcs back and threw his heart. The damned creature fell to the ground, dead before it even left his feet.