CHAPTER 1- BLISS

A chill western breeze flowed through Dawnmoon Bay, towards the far off Wildwood, carrying the stale scent of death with it. The city of Dawnport, its patchwork tapestry of wood and stone buildings, sat perched on a low cliff above frigid waters. Saltwater slapped against rotting pylons, filling the streets with its corrosive mist, as breathless whispers dissipated into the wind.

“The Wildwoods, a hunter. His name’s Eli.” One man said to another, as a pool of crimson liquid gathered at the base of an anvil bathed in cool green light.

Miles from the city, tucked away in a small cabin, a man tossed in his sheets. His eyes were still closed, as he took in the low chirps of birds and the rustling of leaves from the surrounding trees. Today is another day, he thought as the sounds of a crackling cook fire danced through his kitchen and into his ears. A faint snap accompanied the crack of fresh-cut vegetables followed shortly by a sweet jaunty tune, humming in the background. His wife, Kata was sounding out a simple Wode Elf folk song about adventure. Fried eggs with rye porridge and roasted vegetables again, he thought a smile crept onto his face..

Eli’s life fit him like an old suit, always the same, always dependable. He needed nothing fancy; he wanted nothing extraordinary. The monotony and repetition made things safe, manageable. He had lived in the city, and it didn’t suit him, or his wife. There were far too many people, and far too many problems.

He would wake up, chop wood, check the snares, help tend the field, chop more wood, and teach his children their numbers and letters. But today was different, he felt it in his bones. A stiff breeze fluttered against the shutters causing him to shiver. Top notes of pork fat, blended with middle notes of sweetness, and bottom notes of smoke filled the room. Their welcome smells were tainted by hints of rot and decay that caused him to stir.

The twins, Eric and Savannah, were old enough to help with the chores, but young enough to still find the world amazing. They seemed to view things in ways only children can. An ever-present sparkle of imagination poured into the most mundane occurrences. He admired his childrens juvenile ability to play with a pair of sticks for hours, pretending to be knights, adventurers, or summoners. That wondrous ability to find happiness in simple things had not yet faded, and the thought of their smiles filled him with hope. The struggles of reality had not yet stolen that away.

They hadn’t seen the darkness of this world yet, the death and endless suffering. They hadn’t seen just how cruel immortal beings from another world can be. Eli had taken them far enough into the Wildwoods for that exact reason. The darkness of humanity hadn’t reached this far, and he hoped it never would. But he knew that his peace could not last forever.

The proximity to the Temple of Aeryntorr, a derelict temple that once housed a sect of druids, kept most intelligent creatures away. It had been long forgotten to history, but Eli knew all too well where it was. He found it while hunting and told no one its location. The damned ruins were home to abominations, warped by unimaginable powers. No one had been there in years, other than the few people who made their forest home.

Wayland, the local blacksmith, spoke about seeing unsavory looking adventurers lurking around Dawnport. According to the smith, he saw a small group enter the forest a few days prior to his meeting with Eli. The group asked questions about a stronghold, what types of creatures lived in the Wildwood, and where they may find a guide to lead them to the lost temple. When they had left the city, they went through the western gate towards the temple grounds and towards Eli’s cabin.

Eli made preparations the day he got home. He kept his bow and belt knife near him at all times. The twins were trained on what to do if strangers arrived. Specific whistles and phrases becoming a part of their daily curriculum, in case of an attack. If his friend said that these adventurers were not to be trusted, then he would listen, and he would be ready if they showed up.

Wayland was an old friend, having moved to Dawnport at the height of the Three Factions War, the same time Eli and his wife had. He and Eli had booked the same boat to Scorn, both having left from Sardona, on the western coast of Ommuria. When Kata gave birth to the twins, it was Wayland and Eli’s old war buddy, Derek, that would bring them food, water, and other necessities. The middle-aged blacksmith had helped Eli with his tools, equipment, and repairs for years.

Eli knew that his friend was an excellent judge of character, and Adventurers didn’t care for the citizens of this world. They didn’t care much for anything. So Eli prepared every morning. He checked his bow, axe, knife, and checked their alarms regularly.

Adventurers came to Entarra from another plane of existence, coming and going between the two as they pleased. Some came in search of power, glory, or wealth. Others came to live out their twisted fantasies and wildest dreams. A few, the outlanders, came to escape their existence on their home-world. Some were cripples or outcasts. Others were ill, or in a coma. Many accepted Entarra as their new home, never leaving, or “logging off,” as they called it. But one thing was universal with the adventurers, they were unpredictable and often violent.

“Eli.” came a whisper in the background breaking him from his thoughts.

“Eli, I know you’re awake. I can hear your gears turning from over here.” a sweet, mouse-like, voice squeaked from across the room. It was Kata. “It’s almost time to wake the children, breakfasts about ready, and I don’t want to burn the veggies.”

“Just another minute,” He said, pulling the heavy wool blanket over his face.

“Eli, Miller. If those kids aren’t awake while breakfast is warm, the peccary won’t be the only hide getting tanned,” Kata growled in a half-whisper.

“And, that’s my cue.” Eli whispered, thinking she hadn’t heard him. The smirk on her face and malice in her bright hazel eyes said otherwise.

Eli clothed himself in a hurry and stole a glance at Kata’s lovely form. Her unkempt, fiery red hair framed her sharp facial features as she toiled over the cooking fire. The tips of her pointed ears poked between thick clumps of hair. A few strays stuck to perspiration above her thin pink lips, but she hadn’t noticed. The vivid crimson color provided a nice contrast to her fair olive skin.

A quick scowl and a nod of her head towards the children’s room gave Eli the motivation needed to get the day started. She caught him staring again. He couldn’t help it, she was captivating. Her athletic figure, gentle yet fierce eyes, and smooth womanly curves pulled him to her like gravity. She was not frail, or weak, and she knew more about survival than anyone he had ever met. That’s why he loved her, because she was capable. Her beauty was just a bonus. Without her, he would have died years ago.

A set of hunting clothes were hanging near the cooking fire. Kata must have cleaned yesterday’s boar mess off of them and hung them to dry before making breakfast. Yesterday’s snare check provided a fine catch. A wild boar had stumbled into one of the traps that Eli tended each day. I must have forgotten to clean my clothes after butchering the pig, he thought.

“She’s too good for me,” Eli whispered to himself, as he threaded his toes into house shoes and strode towards the back room.

The twins were still sleeping, their breathing deep. How this was possible with the sweetness of fresh pork, and the roar of a cooking fire on the air Eli couldn’t understand. Even as a child he could smell pork belly from a mile away.

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“Savannah, Eric. It’s time to wake up,” he whispered while rustling strong fingers through Eric’s mahogany hair. “Your mother is cooking breakfast.”

In unison, the two children repeated after their father, “Just another minute,” and rolled over.

But, as they rolled over in their beds, Savannah’s sharply pointed nose twitched. “Wait! Is that bacon?” she exclaimed as she flung her sheets back, and leapt to her feet, knocking her brother off of the bed.

A loud THUMP echoed through the room as Eric’s forehead smashed into the sturdy floorboards. “Ouch, what the hell Sav? I was still sleeping,” Eric screamed, now laying on the floor with a look of pain and confusion on his face.

She shrugged at her brother with a grin as she slipped her pants and a tunic over her pajamas before running out of the room.

“It’s just some belly from yesterday’s hog. The rest is curing and won’t be ready for a week,” Eli called after her as she ran into the kitchen. “And, apologize to your brother.”

While helping Eric to his feet Eli inspected the growing lump on his son's forehead. “I think you’re going to grow a horn.” he said with a smile, “If you’re not careful you’ll end up looking like an Orc.”

The glare in Eric’s bright green eyes burned with anger. “That’s not funny.” he pushed through clenched teeth.

Eric was a calm and peaceful child, this anger was something new. His demeanor was more akin to someone raised in comfort than a homestead in the Wildwood. Spotless, well kept, sleeping clothes covered his lanky stretching frame. He was tall for his age with sharp features, thin lips, and well-manicured, rust-colored hair. A perfect blend of mother and father. The twins both had a blend of human and elf, but Eric seemed to take a touch more from Eli’s human side of the family.

Savannah however, was shorter than her brother and more well built. They shared the same facial features, hair color, and sparkling emerald eyes, but her ears came to a more defined point, and her skin was a shade darker. She was her mother’s daughter to the core, strong, brave, loyal, and competent. Her ability to track, rear animals, and hunt paralleled her father’s. If it were not for her age and size Eli was sure she could take him in a fight. It was this well-known fact that kept her brother's anger towards her in check.

Eli looked up to where Eric had been and saw nothing. His son was storming towards the kitchen, his teeth clenched, and his fists curled into tight balls. The look on his face was sour, filled with intent. The miniature man was about to do something stupid. With a few steps, Eli was behind him, reaching for his shoulder. He was a second too late. A small fist attached to a lanky arm whipped towards the back of Savannah’s head.

Clap.

The momentum of the blow halted in an instant. Kata’s hand, which had appeared out of nowhere, was clenched around Eric’s fist hard enough to cause a squeal of pain. Eli hadn’t even seen her move. The last time he had seen her, she was preparing the finishing touches of a delicious smelling breakfast. Eric’s wrist bent at a terrible angle, the pain dropping him to a knee, but not enough to injure the boy. His sister had turned around and was now laughing at her brother. “Oh. You’re in trouble,” Savanna laughed. “Ha-”

A metallic twang vibrated in the air, the sound of thin metal on bone. Kata had swung her ladle onto the hand Savannah was pointing at her brother. “Ouch! What was that-” Savannah started, before being cut off.

“Do. Not. Start.” Kata’s tone grew cold as she stared into Savannahs now teary eyes. “You know what you did. Apologize to your brother. Then sit down, and eat your breakfast.”

Now Eric was laughing under his breath. “And you.” Kata said with a calm finality, cutting off her son’s laughter. “The next time you attempt to attack your sister, I will not stop you.” She said with a smile, throwing his fist to the side. “But, I will not stop her either.” He nodded, fear clear in his eyes, then sat down next to his sister.

“Now, breakfast is ready. Who wants to eat?” Eli said with a chuckle before planting himself next to his wife.

Warm salty-sweet fats melted in Eli’s mouth as he bit into the slow-cooked pork, the sensation filling him with warmth. Thyme, sage, and a hint of mint added herbal flavors to the meat as it dissolved on his tongue. Each of them ate in silence and enjoyed the rare treat of sweet meats. Sauteed vegetables from the garden sat atop eggs fried in pork drippings. Kata had cooked the fresh eggs to buttery perfection. The fat dripped from their crisp edges onto toasted day-old rye bread. A meal like this was worth every ounce of work that went into it.

After they finished breakfast, Eli and the kids cleaned the house. Thirty minutes later, they were ready to start the daily tasks. Eli’s first duty was to gather wood and kindling before checking the traps for game. The kids were off to help their mother with the animals. Their handful of goats, chickens, and two cows would keep them busy for a few hours. Once they finished their individual tasks, they would all help with the garden, and their small field of grains.

Eli kissed the kids on their cheeks and gave Kata a hug before they left. Before he set out, he slipped on a pair of leather trousers, latched his belt knife in place, and slipped a green leather jerkin over his brown linen shirt. To finish his routine, he checked on his bow and quiver. Kata’s father had made the hickory longbow as a wedding gift. Long straight grains, formed by the rings of an ancient tree, gave it an amazing tensile strength that could kill an adult buck from sixty yards.

After a war and years of hunting, it still showed no signs of wear. It was a well-crafted tool, one Eli had no right to own. Its string, crafted from the sinew of a magical beast, sat dangling. Kata’s father, a masterful hunter and wise leader of men, had killed the massive winged creature while traveling the great planes of Altea. The memories of their meeting brought a smile to Eli’s face. After looking the bow over and securing the string, he was almost ready.

The last piece of equipment needed was his trusty felling axe. It sat beyond the cabins threshold, leaning against a bench. That too underwent a quick inspection. An ounce of prevention, he thought to himself while looking over his tool.

A smooth, well worn, ash haft led to a sturdy black iron double-bitted head. Both blades were wider than normal and curved inward at the heel. One end of the axe was ground to a dull edge to hack through tougher knots found in the local oaks. The other he sharpened the night before. Removing one of his gloves, he ran his naked hand down the blades and handle of his weapon, inspecting for chips, and cracks. Finding none, he slipped the axe into the brass looped frog on his belt. He was ready.

It’s time to get to work, he thought, before jogging off towards the woods.

Just before entering the dense tree-line he stole one last glance at his children. They were laughing and hugging one of their goats. The sight brought a large grin to his face, before he turned and made his way to his first task. Several string and bell alarms lined his property. He had placed them near the trees to alert them to any intruders, humanoid or beast. After thirty minutes of searching the tree-line, nearest to his small clearing, Eli found nothing to be out of place. After one final check of his tripwire alarms he headed into the forest.

Red oaks that were great for repairs and burning grew farther into the woods, getting taller the deeper one went into the forest. But there was another reason to go farther in to find lumber. He could hear his traps. If anything found itself unlucky enough to run through them, they would be easy to reach before it got dark. Sometimes, when he was lucky, the loud hacking of an axe against a tree would startle an animal right into a snare.

Only thirty minutes into his search, he found a familiar redwood snag, of manageable size. He had marked the tree the day before, as it was only a year from falling. Older dying trees would often start small fires, or become burrows for dangerous snakes. They needed to be removed. These also made great firewood and decorative items. He grasped his axe and got to work. Slamming into the tree over and over, until his hands went numb.

His body fell into conditioned motions as time blurred into a long series of powerful swings. Repetitive hacking turned an hour into one singular moment. The woods fell silent between swings, as the world became still around him. A deepening calmness reeled him into a sense of nonexistence. He was just a man with an axe, nothing more. Hours went by as he toiled at his work, hacking at his tree. Suddenly, a loud thud, followed by a cracking sound, echoed throughout the forest, snapping him to attention.

Filling the air like the snap of a whip, the noise caused the critters around him to stir, as if unsure if they should hide or flee. Taking a wary step back, Eli looked up. He expected to see the tree leaning and falling. All he saw was the sun, now overhead as it poked through the canopy. He had been hacking for hours, yet nothing happened. It should come down soon, he thought, inspecting the damage he had done to the tree. Then he heard what sounded like moaning in the distance, an animal crying.

Another loud snap rang out, causing wildlife to spring into action, this time fleeing from some unknown danger. Now paying more attention, he could sense what direction the noise had come from. “There’s no way I could have snared another boar already,” he whispered before stowing his axe in its frog, and snatching the bow from its spot on his back. Something had triggered one of his snares.