This is my first story so bear with me.
Airion
I keep running my fingers over my wrist. I cannot feel it, but I know it is there. I bear the mark of Aldreth, god of the rangers. Rangers are gone. For all I know I am the last. Most rangers were humans. In fact I think I am one of the only Elven rangers. Humans die fast compared to elves which explains my living. I am what is known as a wood elf, the closest translation in your tongue. Even though humans die at a faster rate, it is not the reason that rangers were wiped out. Nobody could have expected what happened. This is how it went.
I was ninety-five. I was young, but I was ready to fight. Half of Elderan was. It was a blood moon. A blood moon means that there will be a great bloodshed which typically means a war-like battle was approaching rapidly. I was in the very tree I sit now. I was getting my arrows ready, bow string tightened, and daggers sharpened. I grabbed my father's old sword. This sword is hundreds of years old and is sharper than any blade wielded by man. It is a elvish blade. One of the best made blades. although Dwarven blades approach Elven quality... It was in many battles and lost only one... Anyhow, It was a cold night and I could see my breath on the wind. I jumped from the tree and landed next to my friend, Akron.
"Are you ready?" I say.
"This is as ready as I can be." He says. He was clutching his bow very tightly. And his left shoulder strap was loose.
"Here let me tighten this." I quickly tighten he strap. "There that looks better." I look up at him and he is looking at me curiously. "
"If we survive tonight I need to tell you something." Akron whispers.
"What do you mean? What do you need to talk about?"
"After tonight." Akron says gravely.
"Okay..." He is not making sense. It is not like him. "Alright. This blood moon looks stronger than any before. Take this." I hand him an elvish dagger. "I was saving It for your Birthday but it makes sense to give it to you now." His eyes light up as I hand him the blade. "Death before dishonor."
"What?" Akron says.
"The writing on the blade. Death before dishonor." I take his old dagger from his leg strap.
"If you want you can have that dagger. I know It is not as good as this one you gave me but... in case if something happens tonight then I want you to keep it." And at that he sheaths his new dagger into his leg strap.
Next chapter will introduce a new point of view and tell the battle.
