List of Names:

* Aurimar Edawë (AW–ri–mahr eh-DAH-way)

* Árrilir (AHR-i-lihr or AYR-i-lihr, by dialect)

* Sylvaté Enéverde (sil-VAH-tay EN-ay-vehrd, Land of Silver Stars)

* Alquilan (AL-quih-lan or AL-quih-lahn, by dialect)

* Félvïarn (FAYL-vahy-arn)

* Nalthanatore (nal-THAN-a-tor, Honor's Gauntlet)

* Sylvanaidus (sil-van-AY-duss or sil-van-AHY-duss, by dialect)

I.

Aurimar rode through the open gates, met by shouts of greeting from men on the out-wall. Raising one palm, he continued without slowing: his business was urgent. Off-duty, he had been at ease, wandering the Order’s lands; the messenger had found him sitting upon Crown Hill, watching the flowing grass. The message was a summons, to return at once to headquarters – an important mission was assigned to him. Ascending the sloping hillside that led to the castle, he saw the Sun climbing to noon, casting light on summer flowers beside the path.

After only a handful of minutes, Aurimar saw the castle walls. Fifty feet high were those walls, of light gray stone and very strong: nearly a mile long they were, those running west-to-east, and their counterparts little less. Many hundred years ago had those walls first been built, making them ancient in the memories of men; and Aurimar had seen them stand through many wars over those years, never falling. He loosed a sigh, slowing his steed. Glorious days had been those of their building, when the Order was first born! He was more minded to the woodlands, quiet places of grass and trees; but those gray walls had stood nobly as long as he had known them.

He came to the grand gates, of bright and mighty wood, and passed through. He turned aside, dismounted, and led his horse to the great stables, speaking soft words of parting before he left. Turning west again, he walked to the castle’s doors, approaching from the outside the line of brilliant banners that ran alongside the main walk. He reached the outer doors of the castle complex, adorned with carvings of holy scenes and righteous battle, and entered in.

He strode straight north for over a thousand feet, crossing the great outer court, until he reached the inner gates. These were as massive as the outer doors, dozens of feet across; but they bore no images of holy warfare. Instead, they were inlaid with the symbols of the Three Knighthoods: a spray of white roses, above silver fountain; golden lilies, below a brilliant sun; and clearest-blue irises beside a pure white swan. Around all of these were traceries of vines, climbing roses, and other flowers, of countless colors. Passing through to the inner court, he headed straight to the central building of the castle, the Hall of Plans.

Entering the hall through its southern door, he turned left, following a passage to the southwest corner of the building, and ascended a flight of great stairs. On the second floor, he turned to the north; and there, waiting for Aurimar as he had been informed, was Elder Árrilir.

Árrilir elder-knight was Aurimar’s good friend. The knights of the Holy Order were made up mostly of men; fewer were the elves who served, and those who did bonded swiftly with one another, surrounded by men and their constant change and bustle, their short-sightedness and short lives. Árrilir was older than Aurimar, and a golden elf, as shown by his height, long blond hair, and sky-blue eyes; Aurimar was a wood-elf, with hair of copper-red, his eyes clear green. The two embraced briefly, then stepped back from each other.

“Long has it been since we have shared each other’s company in peace!” said Aurimar, after greeting his friend. “These recent days are so filled with the conflicts of men that our order is thinly spread. How have you fared in your latest efforts, off in the East?” For just a few decades ago the three great kingdoms of men had fought against each other, in the war lamented as the Sea of Blood; and the Order of Paladins had sacrificed many knights to aid refugees and civilians amidst the warring nations. Ever since the surviving knights had indeed been spread thin.

“As well as can be with so few men, Aurimar Edawë” said Árrilir. “The goblins of the Eastern Mountains have been checked, for a time, but their activity has roused the trolls of the hills. Many do they number still, if the troll-king incites them to war again; and my heart desires not to see fall so many men as did the last time they rose up.” He shook his head sadly, both of them remembering another conflict, merely sixty years distant. It had become so dire that even their own peoples, in their failing strength, had come to the aid of men, and the war’s losses had included many friends of both. “But from troubles to more troubles. I have an assignment to give you, Master Aurimar, one that is ominous. Haste is needed!

“Far to the northeast there is trouble. Only a few days’ riding from the capitol of the Eastern Kingdom, some kind of evil lies, haunting the road into a place of terror. Already, there have been deaths. Survivors spoke of an evil darkness, and shadows full of horror.” They shook their heads, for the two were Knights of the Lily, the Second Knighthood of the Holy Order, stewards of light and life; death and horror stirred a particularly deep sadness in them. Árrilir continued. “That part of the land is far from any of our strongholds. Nearly four months ago, we sent a team of knights to investigate. Two and a half months ago, we heard report that our knights had reached the area, and investigated; but they were assailed by the evil in the night, and driven back. Men were lost. We sent a small force to augment them, and do their best to patrol the road and keep it safe. With the time since we pondered the information the team gave us, and searched for knights most suited to the job. This is a masters’ mission, friend, more perilous than any I have been part of for a while. We need you.”

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“But I do not yet understand, Elder Árrilir,” said Aurimar. “Would not one of the masters with more holy powers be better set against this kind of foe? What qualifies me best? Why do you need me?”

“Because of our memories of the tales of Sylvaté Enéverde” said Árrilir. “Our elven histories reach back to the kingdom of the Silver Elves, and the sorrows that befell it. The description the team leader brought of the foes that set upon them suggest a creature of darkness and great, unnatural power, a very old evil from the horrors of the elder days. Though our lives do not reach back that far, we have greater knowledge, through our homelands, than all but the greatest loremasters among men about the destruction of the Land of Silver Stars. And we also have what we learned over our wanderings through the Eastern Kingdom, when as younger knights we adventured together, seeking lore of the elven-kingdoms of old.” Here he smiled, as memories of the two friends’ travels came to his mind. “I am sorry, but I cannot go with you, my friend. I am needed in the hills to the west just two days from now. You have better woodcraft than myself, and knew better the region near the Silverwood, regardless. You may be better equipped than me for this!”

Aurimar’s helpless laughter cheered them both a little. “Nonetheless, Árrilir, my heart is heavy” he said, though he still smiled, “for if this peril is an elder evil, of days beyond our remembering, then it is mighty indeed. Who are the other masters to accompany me?”

“They are knights considered specialists in this kind of field, hopefully sufficient to combat the evil. But you may know little of them. None of them stay around headquarters long, on the rare occasions they come here. And one of them is not even of our order, though he is an ally who has helped us in the past. He is the last of the group that needs to be contacted; the others we have been able to find and inform of the mission, and are on their way already. We need you to reach out to him for us, and as soon as possible.”

“And who is this ally, and where may I find him?” asked Aurimar.

“He is named Alquilan, and he is a loremaster of great skill” said Árrilir. “His knowledge is well-suited for our purpose, for his studies encompass the elven-kingdoms of old, especially those of the golden and silver elves; and also all the outer realms. Indeed in this last I do not know of anyone, save maybe the eldest of our kindred, who rivals him; and if this evil is some kind of fiend or dark power from long ago, then his lore will be very useful to us. He wanders far, wherever there are ruins of the elder days to interest him. He is, according to our best sources, near the shores of Southtwin Lake, in the southmost regions of what was once Lord Félvïarn’s land. We need you to locate him and tell him of our errand, and seek his help. He is usually very willing to aid us. He is greathearted. I know that our strongholds of Nalthanatore and Sylvanaidus are both nearer, but both are on alert – Nalthanatore for the troll-troubles across the river, Sylvanaidus for darker things. They can spare none with the tracking skill necessary to find him. I am sorry for the inconvenience, especially when such haste is needed! For the shadow in the northeast is growing, and our patrolling force is facing increasing danger. The other four, who are meeting there ahead of you, have orders to pursue the threat in three weeks’ time, should you be unable to get there.”

“Three weeks!” cried Aurimar. “But it is a hundred leagues or more to the region you name, friend; and from there, if I find the loremaster quickly, it is more than twice that far to the meeting-place in the Eastern Kingdom. How could I possibly make it in time?”

“That is why the situation is so desperate” said Árrilir. “He can be elusive, either by craft or by his wandering nature, and we have only just received rumor of his location. But should you chance to find him in time, fear not for the deadline. He is a loremaster of great power, and I am sure some hidden spell of his could see you there.”

“Then, indeed, I must go now,” said Aurimar, “if there is any hope of finding him in time. It has been good seeing you, friend, however brief the meeting. I hope that we can take up arms together, someday soon!”

“It has been a pleasure, Aurimar Edawë. But one thing more I request, and it will take time. I would have your sword coated in silver; I will run it to the smiths myself, and have them do it immediately. It is a good blade, and magical, but I fear whatever evil prowls the Silver Road. Remembering the lore regarding such fiends as this may prove to be, it would comfort me to know that you bear a sword of holy silver at your side.”

“Ever your wisdom tempers my hotness of heart” said Aurimar, laying his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, I will wait. And then with your blessing, my brother-at-arms, I will ride out.”