Veryyn cleaned his slender blade in the low grass and stooped low to give his four-legged friend some attention. Barron wallowed in the affection from his master. The elf felt no remorse for the quick deaths he had given. A great anger boiled inside of him, as we began his quick walk back to the borrow that he has dwelt in for the last few seasons of his life. It was a far cry from the fruitful bogs of Sphangna where he spent his earliest years. He had desired more than hunting and singing of songs. Still, the drums beat in his heart.
In the wilds of ancient Eoforwood, ‘neath the moon’s soft silver glow
Lived a boar as black as midnight, with tusks as white as snow
None dared to track this creature through the forest wide and deep
Where the roots twist like serpents and the shadows softly creep
Oh, sing the song of spear and fang
Of the hunt that lasted days so long
Sing of the boar of Bron so bold
Whose blood was as black as heart was cold
From the village of Giedenlas came a youth with eyes like flame
Armed with nothing but an ashen spear, Dokkalfur was his name
He sought the boar of Bron to prove his worth to kith and kin
To return a hero crowned, with the boar’s head as his win
Oh, sing the song of spear and fang
Of the hunt that lasted days so long
Sing of the boar of Bron so bold
Whose blood was as black as his heart was cold
Through the bracken and the briar, he tracked the beast for days
Through valleys shrouded in the mist and hidden woodland ways
Till at last he heard the rustling and the mighty boar did see
With eyes that burned like coals beneath the old yew tree
The boar charged with fury, like a tempest through the trees
Dokkalfur stood his ground, his fate as fixed as the mountain breeze
Spear met hide in the dance of death, where only one could reign
And the echo of the struggle rang like a mournful, ancient strain
Oh, sing the song of spear and fang
Of the hunt that lasted days so long
Sing of the boar of Bron so bold
Whose blood was as black as his heart was cold
When dawn painted the sky with streaks of gold and red
Dokkalfur stood victorious, the great boar of Bron lay dead
With strength borne of battle, he claimed the head as prize
And returned to Giedenlas, a hero in their eyes
But listen, children, to the wind that whispers through the night
For it carries tales of bravery, of sorrow, and of might
Remember Dokkalfur and the boar, in the shadows of the trees
For the wild woods of Eoforwood still hold their mysteries
Oh, sing the song of spear and fang
Of the hunt that lasted days so long
Sing of the boar of Bron so bold
Whose blood was as black as his heart was cold
So here’s to the hunter and the hunted, in the dance where fate is spun
In the heart of Eoforwood, where the streams cold and run
May the song of the boar and the boy, echo through the glen
In the twilight of the evening, till the woods call us again
Veryyn hummed the old familiar tune as he sped down the footpath. He realized that although he remembered the old words, he now thought in the clunky and brutal language that was common in the East. “Come now Barron, surely we have given our fair maiden time enough to make it home.” Barron followed gracefully, and the pair made little noise although their speed was great. Nearing the burrow, Veryyn slowed the pace to a comfortable walk and felt his rage subside. Old grudges still burned in him, but his Evie had a way of bringing out a better side of the ancient elf.
Crawling under the familiar overgrown roots, he came before the long hidden dwarven door. He made a quick attempt to open the door, but found it locked steadfast. “Evie, it is Veryyn.” he said without pause. He quickly rapped on the door to announce his arrival. He was reminded of their parting words, to lock the door behind her. Barron paced outside the entrance with Veryyn and there was no answer. A lead weight fell in his stomach, but he spoke calmly to his companion. “I’m sure she is just being overly cautious.” Barron let out a low whine. Picking up a palm sized stone, Veryyn rapped it heavily upon the door. There was no answer.
The heavy feeling in his stomach grew and he puzzled over his next move. It was not like Evie to be inattentive, even more so in times like this. Away in the distance, a bird cried out, breaking the strange silence. Another answered and Veryyn opened his eyes wide. That was a most unusual bird. Although he was no tree elf, he had come to know the sights and sounds of his home woods. Taking a defensive posture, Veryyn knelt low, and Barron let out a woody growl. “You only live because we have allowed it, dark one.” an unfamiliar voice called out. “I believe not, human!” Veryyn replied. Suddenly he felt like he was back in the alleyway in Nearborne. Quickly and cautiously, he slipped out from under the overgrown roots.
Facing his attackers, Veryyn was stunned. A tall lean man stood calmly only near the secret entrance. His garb was strange for this land, and favored lighter robes, in sharp contrast to the heavy cotton pants and shirts that were common. The man had heavy golden studs in his ears which were quite an unusual sight. He wore a heavy leather belt, supported over his shoulder. “I mean you no harm, elf. My name is Perthran.” the man said, and raised his hands in peace. “But I am not alone, of course.” A single, small woman stood nearby that he nearly hadn’t seen.
A head shorter than Perthran, she wore darker grey robes, of the same exotic fashion. Her appearance seemed to make her appear nearly as a shadow, as if she intended to remain hidden. “I am Kotia. We are traders, and seek the dwarves. We are not with the Nearborne oppressors.” Her voice was quiet, almost raspy.
“I am also not alone, but I believe you know that already.” Veryyn said. Barron had circled around while the three talked, staying low to the ground and loaded to pounce on command. “I don’t know what you humans think you are doing here, but this is not the time for pleasantries between you and I.” Veryyn continued. “Where are you from, and what do you mean you seek the dwarves? There are no dwarves within two weeks from here.” “Well that is not exactly true, now is it.” Perthran said slowly.
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