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Winter.
Its chill was often anything but an embrace to most. To Erën, at least to a degree, it was. Many of his years had been spent in these northern lands, and he had grown to appreciate much of what it offered. The cold was often one of those things. He closed a door quietly behind him, and took a few almost uneasy steps before shaking off the night's first breath, and shaking off the sleep - such as it was. His sleep had never been the best, though the difficulty came in waves. He'd experienced days, even a few weeks of restful sleep, only to slowly return to nightmares, nightmares so vivid as to seem real to him. Feel real. As it had this night, stirring him long before the sun.
Over the crunching under his feet, the sound of rushing water lured him. There was a path under him, but it was shown only by worn footpaths in the snow. Then he saw lantern light ahead, and approached the bridge that he knew was there.
Wooden plank underfoot.
Hands on cool rails.
An uneasy breath.
The crash of the rushing river. And for a time, amid the quiet night only its gentle roar filled the air. And his thoughts drifted away...
"M'lord Erën..?"
Caught off guard, Erën's head snapped around. Across on the other side of the covered bridge stood an elderly lady. She was a humble sort, and she was familiar to him. He'd not spoken to her but he had seen her about the small village, wherein this bridge sat at its most northwestern point. To say it was odd to run into here was an understatement, and that she knew his name.
"Pardon me."
"Please... I do not mean to be a bother..."
Erën stopped, and took on a more eased posture before nodding his head gently. The woman began forward, and came to the same rail and stood just a few feet from him. After a few moments of quiet, and silently attempting to ascertain her reason for being here, he resigned that it was likely none of his business, and simply continued looking out over the running water, rolling down through the village."Far more current than usual for this time of year."
Though he had no way of knowing for sure, Erën gave a quiet hum and a nod.
"Have you been here before...?" there was a genuine confusion from her.
"Many years ago, perhaps it was before your time."
The old lady giggled to herself a little, "oh, you're not human."
Erën turned his head to her again to see her looking at him already. Looking more clearly into her eyes now he saw, and the understanding answered one question only to ask another.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I can..." she paused for a second, and then waved her free hand around somewhat erratically, at least as much as she could manage, "...feel you there. I don't know what you are, I just know there's someone there, but everyone is unique. I recognized you, you're one of those adventurers everyone's talking about... Monster Hunters, the ones that have been clearing the woods of those... wretches?"
"Yes, that's right."
The wretches she spoke of were abominations, not unlike creatures he had encountered before but... different. Erën, Caliane, and Lazule discovered this place besieged by them, claiming dominion over the night and harassing the village with little relent. Now, after weeks of their continual purge, it seemed as though their task would soon be coming to an end.
"I felt you leaving the village, it just so happened I was out for a stroll... I don't sleep much these days, I have... too much to do..." her speech trailed off and she started rummaging through her bag, which hung over her shoulder and rested against her better thigh, "I brought you this... I found it in the woods shortly after we started going out again... I feel something from it, and I don't know why, but I think is has something to do with them. I thought you should have it." From her bag she pulled an object out which was not small in her palm, wrapped in a tattered cloth. She handed it to him.
Immediately when he took it from her he had a reaction. It was subtle, and he kept it to himself, but the immensity of what he held in his hand became apparent the moment he touched it. Removing its cover was only a formality at this point, or so he thought, as when he finally folded the last layer off in the center he did indeed see what he expected to, only not exactly. There was something dreadfully amiss. He looked up, asking, "where did you find... this..."
"It was just outside of town, a little off the path... it's very late, I must be going now," she turned to leave, but afforded a look back saying, "thank you for helping us," and then she left. Erën watched her make her way off the bridge, and then he cast a quick eye back down at what he held and covered it up with equal haste before dropping it into a small pouch on his belt. He looked over the rushing water and the village again, and thought on what had just happened, what had just fallen into his possession. He would of course need to tell the others, as he was unsure of what exactly this meant... but he felt they were all in danger.
He had not gone far from the village, but as he traveled down the path its lights were hidden behind trees, and the quiet dark surrounded him. Elven sight made this no hazard to him, but for the humans who dwelt here, it was nothing but black. Erën saw things with sharp clarity, though colours offered no vibrancy, barely even noticeable. Along either side were trees of needle and leaf, the latter being bare. Their empty branches stretched up and over the path, reaching across to and from either side.
He came down into a fold in the path where it also turned to take him into the village, just over the next hill. As he started up he felt a sensation on his side, almost like a vibration. His hand rested on the pouch there, and concern crossed his features. He looked back, and saw nothing. He looked up. The sky was changing. The sun would soon rise. His eyes turned up the path toward the village, and continued on his way.
There was a hard clop, and a few subsequent thumps. Another quiet sound, and then again, a hard clop, and two little thumps. Larnell was hard a work with the morning light, chopping wood for the local elders. After the attacks from the wretches, many of their men had fallen, and it had left many people without the help they needed from family and friends. He'd always been a leader in the community, and often folks turned to him for help when things got tough. This time no one needed to ask, he'd simply taken it upon himself. But when someone came and shared with him the news of his father, Tildon, he dropped everything and headed toward the square.
Tildon was a quiet man, but he was kind and did not shy away from some pleasant conversation. He'd lived in Tyradal for his whole life, and though he had daughters and a son, he'd reached an age where he considered everyone in this village family, and with the wisdom he'd acquired with time he had become a dependable voice in the community. His son had taken after him quite a bit. So when he did not come to town in the morning as he always did, it was not long before people started to take notice. In these northern lands everyone depended on one another to get through the harsher months, and Tildon was by far the best trapper this part of The Spine had to offer. Without him things would take a dour turn, and not long after his absence was noticed, panic took hold, and several of the townsfolk volunteered to investigate. Erën returned to the town square in time to see the search party mount up and gallop off toward the mountain.
He didn't take the time to determine what the goings-on were, and instead headed directly back to their dwelling. For their trouble, the Monster Hunters had been given an entire house to themselves. Of course it was a humble dwelling, but it offered them each as much amenity as they needed. As adventurers they were each of them of course used to far less accomodation. At least it offered them some level of privacy, which for the imminent conversation, was comforting to him. He didn't want anyone listening in on what he had to say to Lazule and Caliane - if they were even inside.
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