Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Majin" data-source="post: 2280878" data-attributes="member: 13265">The mists of the High Moors roiled around the heavily cloaked elf, his only cover in the mostly barren wasteland. The sun was low over the horizon but still he kept his hood drawn over his face. Billowing fog parted before him as he moved swiftly across the rocky outcrops, closing in on his prey. He despised The Hunt; much like the bulk of his existence. There wasn’t much he did not despise; he realized bitterly, his expression hardening. It was a necessity to his survival. He did what he was good at to support his lifestyle and that was hunting… killing. He was more than that, so much more. Though only his Dark Lady took notice. Shar, the name whispered through his thoughts. My Dark Mistress, he prayed, silently in his thoughts, as he stalked. I give thanks to you for this bounty I am about to collect. For without you, I am nothing.It was then that the wolf leapt from over the ridge. Wolves, one of the creatures in short supply in the High Moors. Their rare pelts fetched a hefty price though and only that brought Shadowleaf out here this day. As it leapt for the dark ranger, fangs bared, ready to kill, the elf deftly pulled back tight his bow string and let fly. The arrow flew fast and true, piercing the animal through the heart as it yelped in pain. The ranger side-stepped quickly, as the wolf hit the ground and skidded to a halt. It did not get up. Shadowleaf went about his work, silently skinning the creature where it fell. As he laid the pelt out to dry his blood went cold as he heard a sound from behind. Twirling around in alarm he saw the lumbering mass of a troll before him. Not pausing to think how the creature managed to sneak up on him, Shadowleaf rolled to the side and got up at a run, his blades out of their sheaths in a flash as he quickly sought equal footing to get his bearings. Thinking the troll must have been attracted by the scent of the wolf’s blood, Shadowleaf cursed himself for being so careless. The creature, not far behind, lunged for him with an outstretched claw, which was sliced off with a quick slash from the ranger’s enchanted long sword. Seeing the creature’s hand already starting to regenerate and without the proper means to dispose of it Shadowleaf looked around wildly for an escape. He was not leaving without his prize though. Reciting another silent prayer to his goddess as he wheeled around towards the pelt Shadowleaf leapt for the wolf skin as the troll tried to tear at him, only managing to trip the elf up. Scrambling for balance the ranger grabbed the skin and ran; the fearsome creature in pursuit. Spying Shadar up ahead where he had left him, the ranger ran harder, trying to put as much distance between him and the troll as possible. When he reached the horse he tossed the pelt up over its back and leapt up as quickly as he could manage and sped off, not bothering to look behind him as he left the disgusting creature in his dust. Arriving in Secombar early the next afternoon, Shadowleaf rode towards the wagon of his client; a merchant who collected rare pelts and having heard of the scarcity of the wolves on the Moors had hired the ranger to obtain one for him. Sitting his horse in such a way as to allow the black silvered dapple to lead him through the city at its own pace Shadowleaf stared out from under his hood, red eyes squinting at passerby distrustfully. He did not care much for cities and all their people, but he cared little more for the wilderness he had learned to survive in for years after his escape either. There was nowhere Shadowleaf felt safe. Only in the confines of Shar’s dark embrace did the ranger feel at home.[sblock]Colors I will be using:Speech - RedThoughts - Silver[/sblock]</blockquote>

Verification