He rode a stallion named Shadow, black as midnight, matching his hair. The one hundred and thirty-third year of the Golden Crown had just begun as he slowly went along the trail. He came upon their tracks half a day’s ride from the village of Green Bank in The Midlands. He carefully examined their tracks with his vibrant violet eyes. The band of Ruffians he was tracking must have numbered around twenty, and based on the direction they were headings, they must have been the same group he had been tracking since Blind Gap, a small village in the North East corner of The Midlands.
Now a knight in the Order of the Shades, Elijah had experienced a great deal during his nearly one hundred and fourteen-year tenure with the Order. Not only had he lived for over one hundred and twenty years, but he had also ventured across all of Terra and seen the vast majority of what the world had to offer. Though, he did desire to visit The Forge Mountains during their annual Kørvšlog, something he had yet to do since his work required him to constantly be on the move.[1] Elijah had just crossed The Pilgrim’s Path heading South towards Green Bank, when it began to grow dark. He rode down the road a little ways until The Pilgrim’s Path was lost over the horizon, and then he found a quiet space amongst the forest, which surrounded the road on either side, to make camp.
Elijah tied Shadow to a tree, took the saddle and bags off of him, and began to make a fire. After the fire was lit and stoked, Elijah walked over and began to pet Shadow as the horse grazed on the grass around him.
“I think you have the right idea,” Elijah said, smiling. “Let’s see what I can find to eat around here.” Elijah gave the horse a few more pats, removed his hand, and turned to leave. As he did, Shadow lifted up his head and nudged Elijah’s face gently with his nose. Elijah laughed. “Don’t worry, buddy. I won’t wander too far. I’ll be right back. Plus, there shouldn’t be anything in these forests for someone as noble and as brave as you to be scared of.” Elijah looked at the horse out of the corner of his eye and grinned sarcastically. Shadow let out a neigh in annoyance and then went back to grazing. Elijah drew his sword and quietly walked deeper into the forest.
***
Elijah’s armor and sword matched that worn by his master Dín Zalä, though Elijah’s armor did not bear the Emblem of the Shades. In the time since Elijah became an apprentice, the reputation of the Shades had lessoned throughout Terra, and now most people looked upon them with scrutiny. Part of this scrutiny came from the rhetoric of the Golden Crown, whose growing influence over the years had raised suspicions around those who still associated with the Ancient Ones and did not accept the Golden Crown as the one true god and ruler. A similar rhetoric was put forth by the elven crown, who demanded undying loyalty and respect from her subjects. As for the common folk of Terra who did not bother with royal concerns, as Elijah had experienced, most were too oblivious to anything other than their daily toils to care about what mission or creed a knight’s order followed. Though the Order of the Shades was not what it once was during Dín Zalä’s – who was now the Grand Master of the Order – time as a knight, Elijah never regretted joining the Order.
***
While stalking through the woods, Elijah caught the unmistakable scent of blood, human blood. He changed direction and began following the stench. Soon, he came upon what appeared to be an abandoned camp. There were four tents, torn to shreds and smeared with blood, all sitting around what appeared to once be a campfire. Elijah examined the site carefully and determined that the tents were first cut by knives and then either hacked apart by axes and swords or ripped apart by hands. What Elijah found the most puzzling, however, was the lack of any corpses or even body parts. This lack of flesh was made even more odd by the amount of blood Elijah found around the camp. There was enough blood, either on or in the tents, covering trees, or pooled into puddles, to fill up four, or possibly even five, fully grown adult men. Elijah, who had been casually searching through the forest for food, now gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and became more tense.
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“Blast it,” he said to himself in a coarse whisper. “I won’t be able to figure out much more about what happened here in the dark, and by morning whoever – or whatever – did this will most likely be long gone.” He then slowly backed away from the ravaged camp and made his way back to Shadow.
Shadow looked over as Elijah came out of the forest. The horse was clearly tired from the long day of riding. “No luck on my end, buddy,” Elijah said, walking over to pet the horse. “And, sadly, I think we might’ve run into some trouble. I don’t know if we are as alone in this forest as I had hoped.” The horse snorted, almost as if to sarcastically say, oh, great. Elijah continued to stroke the horse’s neck and grinned in a way that showed he understood his faithful companion. “Why don’t you go ahead and get some rest? I’ll take the first watch.” Shadow nodded and neighed happily in agreement. Elijah stroked the horse a few more times and then went to go restock the fire, which was mostly smoldering coals by now.
After restocking the fire, Elijah knelt down next to the flames. He kept his blade out and laid it across his knees. “Sleep well,” he said to Shadow softly. “And stop worrying. Everything’s fine.”
***
Time passed uneventfully until it was almost two hours past midnight. Elijah had kept a vigilant watch, but nothing, not even the wind, seemed to be moving through the forest. Growing weary, Elijah walked over to where Shadow slept. “It’s time to change shifts,” he said gently, stroking the horse. Shadow awoke slowly and glared at Elijah for a moment through a squinted eye. Elijah chuckled and then feigned sternness. “Don’t give me that. We had a deal.” The horse squinted his eye a little more. Elijah responded by scrunching his face into an intimidating glare. Shadow had seen the same glare many times before. It was the same look Elijah wore before he crossed swords with an opponent he particularly disliked. Though, that made Elijah giving that look now all the more comical to Shadow, as Elijah was also fond of producing that face when the horse was being, as Elijah put it, though Shadow, if he could speak, would not agree, stubborn. However, Shadow also knew that Elijah only used that face as a last resort to beg him into compiling, and despite not wanting to cut his sleep short, Shadow could never truly deny his friend.
Shadow let out a neigh of complaint but stood up and shook, like a wet dog might, in an attempt to toss the sleepiness from him. Elijah gave a sigh of relief and grinned. “Thank you.” He then yawned, lied down with his back against a tree, and fell asleep.
***
Elijah’s dreams were pleasant. Currently, he dreamt about a time when he was a young apprentice at Night Hold– that he thought was rather hilarious though Dín Zalä would disagree. Elijah had, as he recalled, borrowed something of value from Grand Master Duncan Caine, who grew furious upon learning that it had gone missing. When Caine found out Elijah had the item, he did not seem to agree with Elijah that the boy had simply borrowed it. The tanning that he received for his actions was none too hilarious, but the scolding that Caine gave the great Dín Zalä about being more mindful of his apprentice, now that Elijah continued to laugh and tease his old master about to this day.
It was during this section when Caine was just about to really start laying into Dín Zalä, that Elijah was disturbed by what felt like something nudging him, trying to wake him up. Elijah, not wanting to miss the look on his master’s face – though he had recalled this memory in dream form or in thought hundreds of times – swatted at whatever was nudging him and rolled over. Immediately after, Elijah felt the nudge again. Elijah mumbled some gibberish and pushed whatever was nudging him away for a second time. Then, suddenly, Elijah was awoken by Shadow’s frantic neighing, the sensation of a hot wet liquid splashing his face, and the sound of a thud.
Kørvšlog is an annual festival the Dwarves of The Forge Mountains hold where they imbibe many different kinds of homemade alcohol and give awards to those that are rated most highly. It is even said that once, during the Second Era, the Dwarf, Dirk Ironbound, was made the King of the Dwarves after his home-brewed Anvil Ale was so widely beloved. ↑