Chronicles Of Faidrea
The White Wood
The howls of the pack echoed endlessly over the valley, the trees swayed in the gentle breeze and the mountain stream trickled through the thick reeds that covered the riverbanks. The hunt had started and it would not end until the pack had caught its prey. The pack could already taste the juicy and bloody flesh on their tongues as they stalked their prey. The pack consisted of five male wolves and four female wolves, normally the females would stay behind to look after the cubs during a hunt but this was no ordinary pack of wolves. These wolves were the hunters of the red eagle fortress the home of the most ancient beings of Faidrea the elves.
The hunters were gaining on their prey for the red deer was oblivious to the packs presence. The pack was down wind of the deer, their heavy panting stilled while they closed in on their prey. The leader would give the order to finish the hunt but the blood lust was too hard to fight so the pack charged at the deer, with one intent to get the most flesh they could get their teeth into! This was not a hunt for their whole tribe, the fortress was consisted of many tribes that had to fend after themselves, this was a hunt of training and sport. The deer was startled, and made the horrible mistake of trying to cross the stream, the wolves leaped at their prey and made a short and messy end to the elegant creature of the White Wood.
The pack ate their fill of the kill and took small bones off the red deer's carcass as trophies. The meat that wasn't eaten was placed as an offering to the tribe's guardian, every tribe has an animal guardian, this packs guardian was the wolf, spirit creature of the howling moon. As the pack waited for the arrival of their guardian they left the bodies of the possessed wolves and took their original form, the beautiful and elegant bodies of the elves even though the elves look harmless they are one of the deadliest beings that walk on the earth. The elves control the elements of the earth and can command the respect of their guardian creature.
The elf tribes would fight among themselves as tests of strength but sometimes these tests of strength would lead to war…
The wars would not be on a huge scale unless a tribe had terribly offended another; the wars would only be at least 30-40 elves on each side. The battle would not lead to murder the object of the battle was to disarm their opponents. As the elves could not face the losses of the tribal wars as well as the losses of fighting wars against the men from the north of Faidrea and the undead hordes from the underworld itself.
The men of Faidrea thought the race of elves was a stain on the earth, they believed in war and technology not in nature and peace.
The hordes of the underworld were deformities of flesh, the guardian of the underworld had long been dead and the portal to the living world had been weakened allowing the undead to rise. The undead were the spawn of the necromancers and had once been a minor threat to life in Faidrea but had now grown in numbers as the necromancers took the living and turned them into skull priests. Skull priests are beings with no will of their own and they only have one purpose to raise the dead from their graves for all eternity. The undead had the idea that the living was diseased and they wanted to rid the world of the diseased and make them cured, becoming undead was the cure seeing someone turning into a skull priest isn't a pretty site first the flesh is removed from the skeleton, then the organs are placed in magical urns called "The Urns of Blood" then dark magic is manifested in the skull of the victim and spread through the entire skeleton, the victim is alive for the whole process so the screams of pain would drive any humane person insane.
The spirit of the wolf guardian descended from the moon, the glow of the moon became blindingly bright and pulsed as the spirit wolf ate the offering of the elves. Once the spirit wolf had taken the offering it howled at the moon with a deafening roar. Then an unnatural wind passed through the trees of the glade and carried the wolf away as it faded into the stars.
As the elves walked towards their home they found signs of someone or something tracking them the signs showed that the thing tracking them was an undead champion, a undead champion is an undead warrior of the highest rank and more than capable of killing an elf. The signs also showed that the undead warrior was heavily armoured and prepared for a confrontation. At this disturbing news the silence of the elves was broken as they discussed what to do.
"We should make haste to the fortress and keep a look out for this undead tracker." Declared a young and inexperienced elf.
"No we should make camp here and wait for the tracker to present himself." Demanded another young elf.
"My friends we shall carry on to the fortress while our best scouts will go ahead of us and try to find other signs of this undead champion." Night Elf said calmly Night Elf was the most experienced elf in the hunting pack and was recognised as the leader of the tribe.
Every elf gets to choose there taken name every elf has three names their given name, their taken name and their hidden name. The given and hidden names would give a practitioner of magic utter control over a person but a taken name will block this control and protect the elf from certain types of magic.
As Night elf presented his plan the leaves of a nearby tree rustled even though there was no breeze. The elves drew their weapons as the undead champion revealed his grotesque form. There were only five moves in the confrontation. One, the champion conjured spears. Two, he used magic to throw them the four female elves. Three, the champion summoned undead hounds that met four of the male elves killing them in a flurry of tooth and claw. Four, the undead champion turned on Night Elf and lunged with his sword. Five, Night Elf blocked the sword with his shield as soon as the warrior blocked the attack he turned and fled running into the White Wood.
"Run you fool! No one can escape from the clutches of the undead!" Screamed the undead champion in an unnatural voice that rattled with every word.
Running as fast as he could Night Elf fled into the trees. Everything was unnaturally quiet as the elf fled from his brothering murderer.
The shadows of the path danced in the light of the torch held by Night Elf. He walked slowly and quietly as he listened for the undead champion tracking him down. All the small sounds of the wood seemed louder than they were as Night Elf silently wept for his fallen tribe brothers. The wolves of his fallen tribe brothers protected him as he slept in the ghostly glow of the grey galleon in the sky that is the moon.
The next morning the wolves had gone leaving only Night Elf's wolf alone in the red morning sky. As all elves knew a red sky in morning meant that blood had been shed the night before. The fire had gone out during the night so Night Elf's blade was not purified yet, after a battle the elves would wash their blades then keep it over a burning fire for a whole night it was believed that this would get rid of the evil souls the elf had killed from the sword. Night Elf didn't care about the purification of his sword so he packed his things and left for the fortress to deliver the horrible new of his tribe brother's deaths
As the fortress came into sight Night Elf shouted with joy, he was home and nothing could stand in his way now as he ran down the road to the southern gate. His wife Shining Star was always on watch at the southern gate at noon. Nothing was as good as holding the one he loves in his arms to make him forget the troubles of the world. Then he could tell the Elders of the tribe what happened. The Elders were wise and old; they had long been apart of the affairs of Faidrea, which are now classed as legend.
As he reached the gate the Gate Master called out to him.
"What is your name and tribe?" the Gate Master asked.
"I am Night Elf of the Howling Moon tribe!" Night Elf shouted at the Gate Master high above him.
"Where is the rest of the hunting pack? Last I can remember I let nine of you out and now your numbers have dwindled down to one!" the Gate Master asked.
"I am sorry but I can not say it is of vital importance that I talk to the Elders." Night elf answered mournfully.
Before the Gate Master could reply a familiar voice called out to Night Elf as the gates opened slowly as a snail. The gates opened and Night Elf ran towards his wife. He held her in his arms but it could not last forever, as Night Elf wanted he had a responsibility to his tribe and he would full fill it. He gazed lovingly into his wife eyes for what could be for the last time in at least a week, as he would be kept with the elders as they discussed this tragic event.
"I have to go now my love." Night Elf said to his wife.
"But why do you have to meet the elders?" Shining Star asked.
"Because our tribe brothers and sisters have been murdered by the evil that is the undead." Night Elf wept.
"I'm sorry but I must go now" Night Elf said solemnly.
"I will miss you" Shinning Star sobbed.
"I will be back soon," Night Elf promised.
"Goodbye my love" Shinning Star whimpered.
Night Elf walked away without another word, while Shinning Star sobbed into her hands.
Fires burned all around Night Elf but no one was to be seen. It is elven tradition not to talk to the messenger of death until they have spoken to the elders. Elves glanced out their windows but no one spoke to him or acknowledged his existence. Night Elf continued towards the elder chambers alone…
