I'll think of a clever title for this at a later date.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

The world was once lush and beautiful, everything radiated with color and life. Then suddenly trees began to die, plagues ravished villages, animals and people both became rabid. Hope has become the only thing the people are holding onto. There is a prophecy, one older than time itself. A war, a dark and terrible war, will stretch its blackened hands across the world. Death will grip onto the souls of every man woman and child within its reach. The enemy will seem intangible. Then a dark king will rise and take control. Darkness will start to blacken out the sun and all will seem lost.Then, with everything on the brink of ultimate disaster there will come warriors, each of them brave, daring, and strong. They will be a light unto the people and they will be a beacon of life that will drive out all the darkness. First, they must be found, and they must become ready.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Winston C. Sythefell:

Imperial farmer and widower. Living a life of simple solidarity on his farm, Winston knows to keep his head down. However, as turmoil within the lush lands grows, his less-than-forgotten past springs forth, ready to drag him back into a life once left behind.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

Azazel Caladwen
Tall and thin. Pale white-blonde curly hair. pale skin. long pointed ears. cyan blue eyes. *shows you crude sketch tomorrow*
Living on her own on the outskirts of a small farm. She doesn't have much memory of her family. She was left behind when her people picked up and moved away in order to get away from the humans. Despite being raised by herself she is extremely skilled in most elvish crafts. (bow making, hunting, magic, alchemy, etc)

[Dominic A. Gardella]

A single leaf floated down, as if it was carried by the hands of a gentle goddess. A sharp Westward wind tore the leaf away from its soft path. Winter was setting in quick. It would only be another two weeks or so until the first snowfall. Winston shuttered as he stepped from his warm house. The bleak midday sky shunned even the smallest smiles. Latching the door behind him, Winston turned on his heels and approached the tool shed. The dirt beneath his work-boots was dry and uninviting. Dead grass and wilting flowers lined this beaten path. Winston put his hand on the doorknob of the tool shed.

The first attempt to open the door was unsuccessful. Winston cursed his laziness. The latch had been slightly sticky the week before, but he hadn't tended to it when he'd first noticed it. With a sigh and a grunt, Winston exerted a large amount of strength, and succeeded in opening the door. A sliver of dull, grey light shone in through a crack in the roof. Ducking into the shed, Winston fumbled around in the dark until his hands fell upon the handle of his ax. Swinging it up to his shoulder, he exited the ramshackle shed and latched the door. A brisk guest of wind sent a sharp chill down his spine. At a lumbering pace, Winston headed into the thick forest behind his field to gather lumber for the night.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

There was a barely audible thwump as an arrow, just released from its bow sailed through the air. A devious smile floated across a set of pale lips. A hooded figure stood up from her perch in a tall oak just as the arrow fell into the eye of a rabbit. Food had been scarce since winter's chill had begun to take hold. Only small critters who had not yet made preparations were still out and about. The hooded woman leapt from the branch, her cloak opening wide like the wings of a bird she began to sail through the air. With a small and agile flip she landed upon the ground. The hunt was almost claimed when the woman's ears perked. Of course under the hood you couldn't see the elongated pointed ears of a being that had definitely evolved beyond that of a normal human. Quickly the figure sailed back up into a tree, regrettably leaving her lunch behind.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

The wail of a killed critter froze Winston in his tracks. In the distance, he heard the soft thud of a small game animal hitting the dead leaves. Gripping his ax, he headed towards the sound. He happened upon a small rabbit, whose neck had been pierced by a makeshift arrow. Crouching down, Winston gently pressed his pinkie finger against the hole where the arrow was stuck. Warm. The person who launched this arrow was still near by. Winston quietly rose from his crouch, and scanned the dense woods. Why hadn't they taken their game? There was an area of dirt which had been disturbed by something. Looking closer, Winston made out the indentations of two small feet, and a hand. Someone had hit that spot with a bit of force behind them. Winston looked up, and spotted the figure in the tree. He immediately lowered his ax.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"Dammit." The word was barely a whisper. She hadn't moved fast enough. She'd been spotted. Now what was to happen was something some would call fate. Two people of seemingly ordinary being were to come into contact and soon move on to be something greater. Of course all of this was unknown to them. The woman climbed down until she was on a much lower branch. One that a human could easily jump from. It was form that short point that she allowed herself to fall heavily to the ground. The man before her appeared to be human, and it was known to her, more than any other, that humans hated her kind. "Sorry, you startled me." He voice was light like wind or rain. Her words were fluid and her tone was strong. It sounded like the music of the forest itself. She raised her head so her face showed beneath the hood, but she refrained from lowering it. White blonde curls framed a pale moon shaped face. Piercing blue eyes stayed steady within their sockets, always focused on target.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

"You're an elf." Winston set the ax against a nearby tree. "It carries in your voice. Don't worry, I'm no Nord. I'm an Imperial. No need to be so tense." Winston slowly raised an outstretched palm towards the dead rabbit. "I take it this is yours?" The response from the girl was that of the forest; silence. Wind swayed through the trees like two drunk lovers spending their last night together. Winston's heart sped up slightly. Was it a mistake to have tried to talk this out? He knew that she was good with a bow. He had been relieved that she'd lowered herself down the tree. Winston thought of the ax laying just within arm's reach.

His voice almost caught in his throat, but he managed to scrounge together an invitation. "If you'd like, you can use the cooking spit I have back at my house. I've got some spices and such. But if you'd rather me just go, I will." He un-clenched his muscles in an attempt to look relaxed. His sea-blue eyes looked on expectantly, awaiting a reply.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"Azazel." Said the woman lowering her hood to expose more white blonde curls and two long pointed ears. But hers appeared different than most elves ears would. On the tip of her ears they were frilled. She reached out and grasped the rabbit by its ears and swiftly removed the arrow from it. "I will journey back with you to your abode and cook my dinner there." Her speech seemed very direct, as if she had already made up her mind and there was no possibility of changing it. "I will request that you tell me your name as well as a sign of good intention just as i have told you mine." In Elven culture, telling someone you're name was almost like trusting them with a secret. Of course last names would be even more dangerous to tell. For with one's full name an entire family could be easily cursed.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Winston did something he hadn't done in a while; he smiled. Picking up his ax, and turning slightly away to walk, he spoke. "My name is Winston. Winston C. Sythefell. I own that plot of land just to the north of here. Do you live in these woods?" His pace had reached its normal speed. The snapping of twigs under his work-boots felt good on the heels. He hadn't walked this deep in these woods since he was a lad. Glancing back, he shot Azazel another smile. It felt good to find someone to talk to.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"I do not live in the woods. You can't live in something that is alive itself. You could say I live with the woods. They simply share their home with me." Azazel said it in such a way as if it should have been common knowledge to the man. But of course, the human way was to strip the forest and live within the trees they had cut down and formed into square shaped boxes. A cold wind blew through the trees and tugged at Azazels cloak. She shrugged off the cold and kept her eyes set on the man in front of her. He sure seemed to smile a lot.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Passing out of the treeline, Winston realized that he'd strayed a bit from the usual path. Quickly gathering his bearings, he adjusted his course so that he was following the treeline. He happened upon the edge of his field. He felt good knowing that the Winter Cabbage was blooming at the right time. It looked like it would be a sound harvest once the ice set in. This reassured Winston. He continued to follow the treeline, then happened upon the headstone. His eyes closed, and his brow furrowed slightly. He'd been so caught up in meeting Azazel that he'd forgotten where he was heading.

"Fralvia Sythefell." The stone was faded and ancient. Years of weather and wind had given the tombstone a rustic look. He remembered her laugh like he'd heard it that very morning. His heart strained as he suppressed a sigh. Looking dead on, he wondered if his new guest would ask about Fralvia. He began to mentally prepare for the explanation of the story.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

Azazel read the stone. "requiescat in pace" she muttered silently. She stopped and stepped closer to the stone. She knealt before it, settling on her knees and folding her hands as if in prayer. She mumbled few words under her breath and lightly stroked the ground in front of the stone. Small bright budded flowers soon began to grow from the dirt. "A blessing for your loved one. Those flowers will never wilt, nor die." She stood and turned to face Winston. "A wife or daughter I presume?" Her words were blunt, but her tone was kind.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Winston smile wearily. "Daughter, but her mom's gone on too. Last winter was, hard." His voice choked upon seeing the flower. He quickly hid a tear by brushing his hands across his eyes and through his hair. "She was the last of my immediate family. I have a brother who runs a shop over in Hammerfell, but he doesn't write. Your condolences and prayer means a lot. Thank you." He turned and ushered her towards the same path he'd walked that morning. Soon, they'd arrived at the door. The quaint grey wood seemed to match the overcast sky. Unlocking the door, Winston gestured to Azazel. "Make yourself at home. The cooking spit's to the right. I'll go gather the spices from the cupboard."

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

Azazel nodded. She pulled her hood close around her head. Not all men would be as accepting as Winston, and to be honest she still had her suspicions of the man. Reaching inside of her small bag she pulled out a few large leaves. They were from some sort of fern plant. She bundled the rabbit in them before skewering it onto the spigot. she then snapped her fingers in order to light the fire. She wasn't sure how else to go about doing it.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Winston reached into the cupboard and removed the spices. He set them in a neat row on the dining table. "Got some from Hammerfell, a jar or two from Elswyer, and a lot from the southern regions. Take your pick." He gave a polite half-grin and returned to the kitchen. Once there, he looked out the window. The sky grew darker. It'd rain soon. Winston returned his focus to the girl within his home. Turning, he picked up a cup of water that he'd had from breakfast. Entering the living room, he looked over to Azazel.

"So, it's not all that often that I see an elf in these parts, what, with the Nordic presence and all. I do hope the Slithhall's didn't give you any trouble. I know how nosy their kin can be." Her blank expression reminded him that names didn't carry weight to those outside the community. "Oh, they live down the road from me. They've got those blasted hounds for hunting. Loudest racket I've ever heard in the wee hours of the morning." He sat down near the spit, and picked up his lute. He began to play a soft and vibrant tune. "Please, feel free to take a seat wherever you wish. There's a pitcher of water in the kitchen with some cup if you're thirsty."

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

Azazel took her time sniffing each spice before adding it to the rabbit. Soon it was roasting quite nicely. "Most men don't cause me trouble. Most don't even know i'm there. In fact, no one does." She said the last part somewhat sad. though her face betrayed no such emotion. One easily could have imagined it. She removed her thick fur cloak and hung it by the door. Without it she appeared quite thin and wispy. Put rather than just being skin over bones, she had toned muscle like that of an animals. All of it was well shown too. The attire she wore wasn't what one would call concealing. It was a small tight black corset set over a white sleeveless dress. It was much racier than what even a bar wench would dare to wear.But for elves it was probably normal attire, something that would cover them without restricting their movement. Her curls fell about her shoulders in thick perfect ringlets and draped down to near the middle of her back. She glanced over at Winston who had continued to play. "We elves also have bards... At least I think we do... I remember songs that were sung... But not if it was by bards." she paused between every few sentences as if she was trying to remember.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

"My father taught me to play. He was always the city-fairer. Never one for the farm life. That old bonehead ran his trading post up until the day he died." Winston continued to play. "I found great comfort in the art of music. Never cared much for my own singing, but I love to play." A distant clap of thunder rolled through the cold valleys in the distance.

The fire crackled, and Winston's bones ached. He ran his hand along his chin, resting it on the scar which divided his right cheek. Gazing off with a thousand yard stare, he traced the ragged thing from his jaw to his cheekbone. Only after a minute or so did he realize the house had gone quiet without him playing. He soon picked right back up where he left off. He looked over to Azazel. "Can you play?"

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"No, i dont believe I can. " Azazel said Folding her hands across her lap. She had taken a seat across from Winston. Just on the other side of the spigot. She took up her quiver and began to whittle at the arrows. Making them shaper, more precise.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

"It's alright. Not a lot of people do around here. It's always so dark when it comes to dealing with the townsfolk, but we get by." Winston set the lute down. "So, tell me about yourself. Do you have any family?" Winston leaned forward, soaking in the fire's warmth.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

:I'm sure that I do. Though I don't know where or who they are." Azazel took the well cooked rabbit from the spit. It smelled delightful.The scent of roasted meat mingling with the added spices. "Would you like any?" Tearing into the rabbit she cut it into tiny bite sized pieces. She left a good third of the rabbit whole.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

"No thanks, I'm fine." Winston leaned back in his chair. The small house was warm and secure. The fire danced within the hearth as the wind moaned outside the windows. The sun had sank considerably since the trip to the woods. Winston rubbed his eyes. "So, what's your living arrangement? A house? A tent?"

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"I sleep in a hollow tree trunk. I have a small bed I made from the fur of the animals ive caught." Azazel said taking what was left of the rabbit and wrapping it up for later. She tried to conserve food. She looked out the window at Winston's crop field. She felt a slight pang of guilt. "Have you got enough food stored up for winter?" She asked lowering her head.

[Dominic A. Gardella]

Winston let out a warm chuckle. "Always do, somehow. Since it's just me, there'll be more than plenty. Do you?" He leaned forward, studying Azazel. Something seemed off.

[WalrusFaces (Layla)]

"Ive found enough for myself here and there." Azazel said, of coutse she knew by "here and there" she meant that she had been stealing it off the outskirts of his little plot. She never took much, just enough to feed herself and save some for later.

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