The lights of his house were not yet in view. His eyes tried desperately to cut through the gloom of the woods. This was one of those times he wished he had been born a full blooded elf. Although his senses were better than any humans they could not match those of his kin. He could hear only the faint noises of the woods directly about him in the high winds and every now and then would catch sight of a trace of an animal running for cover from the approaching storm.

He thought then for a moment that he saw something ahead move between the trees. He heard no movement but the shadow was unmistakable. Slowly and silently he drew his katana from its sheath as a precaution and proceeded ahead slowly, his eyes straining to detect any further movement. There was none.

When he reached the tree where he had sworn he saw something he stopped and stooped low to the ground. He looked closely at the floor of the forest before him. Fresh imprints showed clearly that someone had just passed. The boot prints were too large for an orc. They were either elven or human. He rose looking to his sides in either direction. He stood there silently for several moments. Whoever it had been was gone now, he decided and relaxed a bit.

Looking ahead he could just start to make out lights in windows. He was almost home. He took one step forward when he heard it. A whoooshing sound as if something large was cutting through the air in front of him. Years of training had honed his reflexes. He knew the sound of a mace and anticipated an attempt for a death dealing blow to the head. His katana flashed up lightning fast to intercept the blow that was heard yet not seen. He had anticipated wrongly. The blow was not aimed at his head. He saw the mace now as it came in low, wielded by a fast moving shadow.

The blow hit him with incredible force on his right kneecap, turning it into dust almost immediately. The other bones of his leg shattered by the force of the blow jutted out of his leg at odd angles. Glorfindle hit the ground hard, his head spinning from immense pain. His hand still held firm to his katana as he looked up at the shadowy figure standing above him. He expected the death blow to be dealt, yet the figure made no movement.

He fought to clear his head through the blinding pain. He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out his last potion of healing. Still the figure did not move. In the dim light he could tell it was a humanoid, dressed in black. Then he saw it, a shock of white blew over the shadow's shoulder. He began to raise the vial of healing liquid to his lips, but another swing of the mace deftly shattered the vial in his hand.

"Oh I think not Glorfindle." The shadow spoke.

Glor gritted his teeth and spat at the one before him. "Tel'Halda, Ya bastard."

"We don't want that healing to quickly now..." Dolenamo stepped forward and sank to one knee before him. "You couldn't leave well enough alone could you? Couldn't see that I wished not to harm you? You had to press the issue..."

Glor's head swam with the pain and he feared he might lose consciousness. Dolenamo's words seemed to fade for a moment before another shock of intense pain in his leg brought him back to his senses. Dolenamo had one hand on what was left of his knee and was pressing down.

"You got your wish Glor. Ayamai and I are out of Tel'Ruid. But before I left you for good I wished to give you something to remember me by."

Glorfindle's sword arm found some strength, and as he lie there he took a swing at the shadow with his katana. His cut only met thin air as Dolenamo was already on his feet and moving away. Just before disappearing behind a line of trees, he turned and spoke once more.

"If you suddenly get the urge to seek revenge Glorfindle think again." Dolenamo hissed. "Or I may just have to pay your little lady Myra a visit. Would be very easy you know...with her all alone in that tower of hers. Farewell, and enjoy your new life as a cripple."

Dolenamo was gone.

Glorfindle sank back on the frozen ground of the forest and slipped into unconsciousness.

In the distance, Khalin saw a figure moving through the woods. His eyes squinted, hoping to take in more detail, surprised that he could see as far as he did. As the drow casually moved on, he watched the curious shape, trying to make out the movements, and perhaps identify the distant figure by body language alone. There was an almost human swagger to the walk, yet there was still some elven grace to it. Khalin smiled to himself as the distant figure crouched low, finally recognizing Glorfindle in the distance.

The smile did not last long.

Khalin watched as a lithe figure appeared next to Glor, arcing around for an attack. Glor drew his weapon and attempted to dodge. He must not have succeeded, because he fell instantly... but if the half-human was struck with a weapon, the cold steel was invisible to Khalin's sight from this distance.

Already in a full sprint, Khalin moved toward the two figures, hoping to close the gap and intervene. For the first time this evening, he cursed his vision — the distance between him and his fallen friend was belied by the clarity of the evening. Still, he pressed forward, his war fork and shield already in hand.

Just above the howl of wind through the trees, Khalin heard the shatter of glass and watched the second figure bore down on Glor. There was something familiar about the assailant, but Khalin did not take the time to dwell on it. He watched as Glor flailed his weapon at the other figure, but the other dodged easily.

As the attacker moved back toward the trees, he paused for a moment, and in that instant, Khalin knew. His teeth grit hard together, and the grip on his war fork made his knuckles strain. As Khalin closed the gap, Dolenamo looked up for just an instant, crimson eyes meeting crimson eyes. And, as quickly as he had appeared, Dolenamo darted into the woods.

Khalin nearly passed Glor, thinking only of his hatred for Dolenamo — Tel'Halda — thinking of the years of inexplicable emnity between them. But a glance to his side made him realize the severity of the attack. To Khalin's eyes, Glorfindle's blood, still warm and flowing, glowed a bright red against the cold earth. He glanced into the woods, again cursing the clarity of his vision this night — he could still see flickers of Dolenamo amidst the thickening tree line. Soon, the assassin would disappear into the night...

But Glorfindle needed immediate attention.

Khalin surveyed the damage to what used to be the half-human's leg. Glor seemed to have passed out already, but Khalin spoke to him nonetheless. "Abbil, I am going to place a splint on your leg." He pulled out his bandages and a useless metal wand that still remained in his pack. He looked at Glor, thankful that his friend was unconscious — the state of his leg was going to make this unbearable...

Young Glorfindle, no more than 16 years of age, screamed in pain wishing his father would stop. The pain was unbearable....

Glorfindle cried out as his eyes snapped open. His mind tried desperately to catch up to the present. Never in his life had he endured such agony as he did now. The attack by Tel'Halda now coming back to him in full. He tried his best to get past the pain and focus on his situation.

Strong arms had hold of him and he was being carried. A short distance ahead he could make out the lights of his home. The thought of who was carrying him didn't immediately enter his mind. All that mattered to Glor is that Myra would most likely be there. He held a picture of her in his mind and forced all thoughts of the pain away.

Finally, he turned his head slightly to see who his rescuer was. The sight of hair white as snow sent him into panic. Tel'Halda had him! If Myra was at the shop she was in grave danger. He began to struggle a bit and the intense pain of his ruined leg shot up his spine. His head swam and he blacked out again.

Up ahead, the underbrush grew thicker, and Khalin weaved his friend in and out to avoid catching that leg on brambles. For a moment, though, his boot caught on a branch, and it wasn't until Khalin felt the trembling and heard the shard hiss of pain coming from Glor that he realized his error. He quickly corrected, but Glorfindle was already stirring. Khalin saw Glor's head turn a bit, probably catching a glimpse of his home.

That sight seemed to calm him. His body relaxed again on Khalin's shoulders. Khalin tried to quicken his pace, knowing that being home would help his friend. Perhaps then, when Glor was resting, he could find someone to help. But it was no use, every time Khalin tried to speed up, Glor's body would stir just enough to cause his leg discomfort. For an instant, the half-human glanced toward the drow, and then without warning, he started struggling.

Glorfindle's motion and weight caused Khalin to stumble forward, his face hurtling towards dirt. His legs pumped hard to try to regain his footing, but the momentum threw the drow down to one knee before he caught himself. He felt Glor's body crash against his shoulders, and heard a sharp gasp come from his friend. And with that, Glor's body went limp again. Khalin hissed a drowish curse as he tenuously regained his footing and lifted the other up again.

The lights of the shop were close enough to illuminate the grass now. In just a few more moments, Glorfindle would be home. Then Khalin would set him to rest, and find someone who could watch over his friend for the evening.

The pain was still intense. Raising his head he chanced a look at his leg. His knee, or what was left of it, had been tightly bound in bandages and splinted. It rested elevated on a pile of pillows. The flow of blood seemed to have ceased for the most part. Only a few small spots seeped through the bandages.

He lay there silent for a few minutes. Myra obviously wasn't here. A blessing, he thought. He really didn't wish her to see him like this. Yet he wanted to see her desperately, to feel the comfort her touch would bring. Soon enough...hardly a night went by where she didn't stop by at some time.

Then remembering, he looked to the box on his nightstand. Shifting his weight with a groan he pulled himself over to get the box within reach. He felt inside the box blindly and began pulling out vials of various colored liquids until he found the one he sought. Propped up on one elbow, tears of pain clouding his vision, he loosed the stopper with his teeth and downed the yellow liquid in several large gulps.

A feeling of warmth spread over him as he lay back down and let the healing liquid go to work. His leg and knee tingled with the healing magic as bones began to mend themselves and wounds closed. He lay there until the tingling began to subside. Strength had returned to him somewhat and he pulled himself into a sitting position.

He took a second vial of the healing elixir from his strongbox and downed that one as well. The swelling around his wound began to go down instantly. Nimble fingers removed the splint from his knee. He moved hid leg tentatively. It was sore and hurt when he moved the joint but it seemed to be mending. He proceeded to remove the bandages from his leg to get a better look.

What he revealed when he cut away the last of the bandages did not resemble a knee. The bones had mended, but obviously the damage had been complete. The potions were unable to restore his leg to a normal state. His kneecap jutted out to the left a bit and the area still seemed bruised and a bit swollen.

With a sigh he lay himself back down. The pain was much less yet now he worried if his leg would ever be able to support his weight again

She had found out what had happened to Glor, and it made her angry. She didn't know what the feeling was at first... She couldn't remember ever feeling this way before in her life. She felt as if, if she saw Dolenamo, she could gut him with a dull knife and pull out his innards without so much as an ounce of guilt, while staring him in the face.

Thoughts of finding him and making him pay raced through her head. Those thoughts and so many others. She looked down at the ring on her finger. And looked at the empty space she would have shared with Laina.

Her eyes strayed out over the forest. Suddenly it seemed so large, even ominous...

She leaned her bow against her throne and made her way down to her front door. It was unlocked. She reached for her key on the wall, and stopped, frowning. She would not lock her door. That would be admitting she was afraid. Besides, if Glor or... Laina came by, they needed to be able to get in.

Instead, she gathered what little ether she could control and set a small ward on the door. If this door opened, Reverie or no, she would know it.

She climbed back up to her roof and took off her armor. She unrolled her bedroll and laid it on the pentagram tiles on her roof. Sparing one last glance over the woods, and satisfied there was nothing odd stirring out there, she laid down on her bedroll, and pulled her blanket over her.

Her thoughts wouldn't let her sleep. First Dolenamo... She'd never met him, yet now he haunted her. She would pay him back for what he did to Glor. She swore it.

Then... Laina had been about. Glor said he saw her. That was the best news she had heard today...
She squeezed her hand to feel the odd sensation of the ring now on her finger. Then there was that. What was she going to say?

She sat up. And sighed, quickly putting the idea to go try to track Dolenamo far from her mind. She laid back down and just stared at the star filled sky and watching the mini clouds her breath made in the cold night air until actual sleep claimed her.