"Our presence here has been betrayed. Our mentor be taken." Soft breathing followed, then footsteps upon a wooden floor. The pacing continued, even as the speaker subsided from the length of his report. "Wither away? For we must needs have news before we depart. And yet I like not any suddenness, as I shall have to seek leave of absence for our company."

"I leave then to procure our lead. I shall send for thee as soon as I find anything. Meanwhile, stay thy hand here, and hold thyself in readiness. Their forays can cease for the time being; other than perhaps the patrol to keep clear the road, or more as they may choose." The doorway was darkened by a figure for a moment, then it disappeared into the darkness that had already settled over the landscape. Passing quickly through the guard posts, it vanished like a spirit into the forests.

A second figure came through the doorway, stopping only long enough to lock the building against intrusion. *Mayhap I shall pass this way again, but for present let it alone. I have an errand to accomplish. I rest not then, until it be done; for time is of the essence. Forgive my departure, my lord.* Stepping into the night, he wound his way into the streets of the town.

Danil was startled out of his dozing contemplation by the fireside by a quiet by insistent knock on the door. Wondering, he went to answer it, and stood by the opening for a moment to converse with the person standing on the other side. After a few moments in low tones, he slowly shut the door, and turned to find Duragon standing quietly behind him. Slow his movements, and he heavily reseated himself before the hearth. "Forsooth, evil doth come in great measure in unlooked for paths." Duragon became somewhat alarmed at that, and seated himself beside his companion.

"What pray tell causeth thee such grief? For t'is alarming, seeing thee so!" Danil turned to his cousin, face deadly serious. "Dread tale brought by one of my rangers. An ancient evil has returned to these hills. In alliance with the Dread Legion, it begins to cast its tangled webs once again around us. One of my rangers is missing, the others go now to hunt for its hiding place. And yet I canst feel almost despair at the prospect, when such a time is upon us."

"What shadows can now lay upon us that herald such a tale of woe?"

"Dread lords of a time long past, though they held no noticeable advancement of realm, much power was in their ranks. Of men and elves, and other beings t'is told. A darkness dwells in their presence, and they fly upon the wings of the wind to travel their domains. They held much sway over events ere the time that they were destroyed, history records not how. It is rumored that they have arisen again."

Thus passed the first even in the tale of the Souderland, and what transpired thereafter will be recorded in due time, as the events unfolded.

Relentless upon the hunt she was, treading fairly the ground unknown. Her hunt had lasted most of the past week, leading into the hill country north of the village of Undermane. Sending message to her friend in the south, she continued to probe the hills for the emanating source of evil that had drawn her nigh.

It would be a few more days ere the message reached him, and then she would have twice the power to sweep clean the area from the domination whereunto it had fallen. If need be, she would send for the whole host of her sister rangers who had come to the south. Nothing would withstand their combined power, unless it be concentrated in a greater amount.

Her eyes glinted grey in the now waning light. Time to find shelter, they would no doubt be moving as soon as the shadows lengthened. Of a sudden her senses ran wild: someone was in the area. Still as the trees about her, she listened, and out of the emptiness heard a voice.

"Nassiel..."

A whisper in the dark.

"...come."

The command, it must be!

Nocking an arrow, in the constant practice as smooth as life, she loosed it at the dark form that had materialized in front of her. The weapon pierced the cloud and continued on its way, lodging itself in the trunk of a tree beyond. Her bow flew magically from her grasp, and she backed away from the advancing figure. A tree behind her stopped her retreat, and still the shadow came on. Putting her hands behind her to balance herself against the trunk should there be any chance to attack again, she suddenly found that her wrists had increased in weight! Shackles! But...? Her world suddenly lost its vision, as she fell forward into the waiting arms of the shadow.

A dark flash, and the shadow disappeared, leaving the wood as though it had never been.

His search had led him northward, though not as fast as could be expected. Now that he had received the message, he pressed on at double speed. He could discern that some altercation was taking place in a particular spot, and three days ahead of Nassiel's reckoning, he was coming.

Too late! Alas that he should come just in time to see them vanish, the elf and the shadow! Not a sign that any had occupied the area; even the bow had disappeared. Slowing his pace, Thallien continued to circle the place. Pausing momentarily, his sharp eyes discerned the arrow protruding from the tree. Ah, proof he had now. Let the hunt begin...

Taking from the pouch under his cloak a tiny parchment, he fastened it to the leg of the pigeon that awaited him at his campsite. Releasing the bird, he watched as it winged its way back to the south. Now for the hunt. Divesting himself of all but the most necessary possessions, he started northward. Evil seemed to exude itself from a certain point.

A prayer escaped his lips to the God of Light, "Do not allow me to fall to this darkness!"

Taking a bearing on the pulsating source of power, the ranger crept silently forward. For ease of travel, he'd left his bow behind, taking only a sword. His grayish brown cloak thrown around his shoulders covered the green of the rangers' uniform. Dark boots completed the uniform, and the soft leather of which they were crafted allowed the silence in which the rangers crept throughout the forests and hills of the realm.

Perhaps again he should be too late, and perhaps there would come no answer to the summons that he had sent, but it was his destiny to try. He must needs continue to fight evil, even though he died himself in the process. No less could e'er be expected. Silent as a shadow, he drifted northwards...

A week has passed. Danil Braveheart gazed again upon the winding trail that was his responsibility now. Duragon Trollbane was as always his constant companion nowadays; though the altercations regarding treatment of the orcs had perforce driven wedges into the brotherhood of the knights, the cousins' bond had strengthened. Duragon had taken vocally his comrade's part.

Now the two rode patrol on the northern road, keeping wary watch for any unscrupulous characters. It was a tiring job, most always handled by several knights, but there had been rumors of a renegade burning and destroying off to the east, mostly small farms or homesteads. Patrols had been cut in order to send off men to hunt for the perpetrators. Amlius the Strong had been given the leadership of the group.

The past four days had been tiring, as a group of four knights had been detailed to patrol the road in groups of two, twelve hours at a stretch. Now as evening drew nigh, the two looked forward to being relieved and the several hours sleep that awaited. The horses were weary, dusty from the long road, and probably looked forward to the stables. Southward they trotted, hoofs grinding up the dirt, wind only slightly shifting their manes. Ahead, their masters discerned the relief party on the way outward.

Stopping their mounts at the juncture, Danil awaited the other two knights. His visor was lifted, revealing the tired lines upon his face. "Hail brethren! No problems upon the road this night, thou shouldst have smooth riding; yet keep up thy guard."

Saluting with their right arms, the two relievers rode off on the road. Danil turned his mount again towards the home stable. Close behind followed his companion, eager to attain his well deserved rest. Yet as they entered the town, there seemed to be an air of unease in the guards that they encountered. Releasing their tired mounts to the care of a groom, they headed towards their dwelling.

"Sir Knight! Yea sir!"

Duragon turned his head, catching sight of a young man on foot, sprinting towards him. He put a restraining hand upon his cousin's shoulder. Wearily the elder knight turned back, waiting patiently for the messenger.

"Message for you sir!" Snapping to an attentive state, his hand held out a small piece of parchment. Danil took it withal, nodding gently to the young man before turning his attention directly to the letter. Duragon stayed the lad for a moment. "What with the unrest amongst the town?"

The lad's brow raised momentarily. "Aye, I be forgetting ye were gone. The renegades have been destroyed, but perhaps at cost; Amlius Strong has been worsted in a bad way, though no others. They say he is to recover, but that he is worse tempered than before."

The elder knight looked sharply up from his missive, a hint of doubt turning his features dark momentarily. "T'would be ill to speak of such things then till all is clear." The lad colored slightly before turning again to his errands. Duragon turned his gaze upon his cousin. "What pray tell has thee so unsettled?" Danil breathed deeply before gesturing to the doorway. "Inside, over our meal."