The dirt path was wide enough for three stout men to walk abreast, but the gnarly trees and dense undergrowth seemed to claim the trail for its own. Byrl Odell hurried himself along on the footpath. His eyes darted from side to side, questioning every noise and shadow. Even the sun hastened along its path as if racing Byrl Odell to safety, but the sun was winning and it would be dark very soon.

Byrl Odell had never been outside Kurz after sunset, and this day of all days Byrl Odell, for the first time, wished the sun would slow its pace. Two miles north of Kurz Byrl Odell worked a small gold mine. He had mined there for many years, as did his Father’s before him. The mine had never made an Odell rich, but it had always keep the family fed and Bryl Odell in ale. Today Byrl Odell comes home empty handed. He remembered having a good day at the mine but somewhere in the days excitement Byrl Odell had lost the fruits of his labor. He pulled nervously at his tunic and wished that his legs were as long as his human friend’s. Byrl Odell had only a few of these friends.

You see, Dwarves usually stay with their own kind, but there are a few that venture to the cities of Humans. Byrl Odell was very stocky, and muscular. He had the many features that are so common among his folk. The bulbous nose and coarse hair, and with his thick callused hand he stroked his dense bristled beard that reached his belt. The Belt that he then noticed was missing along with his dagger. Byrl Odell began to hear his heart beating louder than the sound of his footsteps. Fear gripped him and all of his senses came alive, completely in tune with everything around him. Suddenly his attention shifted to the Broken Jug, where many times he would stop in to wash away the dust of the day before going home. The sounds of laughter and the familiar sights of his friends began to fill his thoughts. No longer focused on his surroundings, Byrl Odell continued on towards Kurz. All at once there was a flash of light and an overwhelming pain in his head as he saw the ground rushing toward him. His head burned deep with a dull throbbing pain.

Byrl Odell pushed himself up to his hands and knees. He looked at the ground as it turned red from the blood he felt running down the side of his face. The air rushed from his lungs as a blow to his side lifted him off his hands and knees. The Dwarf clutched his side and curled into a ball, trying to catch his breath. Byrl Odell knew that he would not be at the Broken Jug that eve. Byrl Odell looked up and saw two men dressed for battle standing over him. His eyes beginning again to focus, could be see they were human.



He looked behind them and saw three more emerge from the trees and approach him. These three carried themselves in a different manner. Dressed in hooded cloaks but not quite as tall, their faces were lean and long, they were unmistakably Elven.

The last to approach was the first to speak.



Laughingly this one shook his head and said to Byrl Odell, "Hello mole, You really didn’t think he was going to let you go, now did you?" The hooded man stood over Byrl Odell looking down at his curled frame. "You are such a stupid mole. There is nothing you can do, or anyone else for that matter." This one that seemed to be the leader bent down over Byrl Odell and whispered to his blood soaked face, "You should be honored mole, honored to be the first." Byrl Odell looked into the yellow eyes of the Drow elf and whispered in return, "Me only regret Eelya M’rtr is that I won’ see your ears ‘angin’ from a warrior’s belt." With a growl through clinched teeth the Drow took hold of Byrl Odell’s beard and drug him into the path. I will show you, digger, how we teach our little ones in the fine art of skinning a mole." Eelya M’rtr pulled on the Dwarfs beard and placed his foot on Byrl Odell’s chest. With his free hand he pulled his dagger. With at least one rib broken Byrl Odell began to swoon with the pain. He heard a laugh, but then realized it was not coming from his tormentors. All eyesshifted to the path.

"By the air I breathe gentleman. How many does it take?" Sliverstreak stood in the path. Her eyes fixed upon the Drow. Not wanting to show her surprise at actually seeing a Dark Elf, Silver kept her gaze upon the Drow. Her glare was with such intent that she had the Elf’s utmost attention. For many years Silverstreak had wandered the lands, trying to overcome the hatred she felt for all that ruled with an evil force. She swore that all who were evil would suffer at her hands and meet their fate. Then one day she came upon the quiet town of Leinster, where she met and befriended a man. This great man taught her the ways of forgiveness and kindness. As the years passed, her hate diminished and she choose to help those in need and offer friendship. One of those friends became her High Elder. He is Knighthawke, High Elder of KOLL. Silver stood in full plate armor with her shield sleeved and her sword drawn. Silver continued to glare. "Be off with you wench." the Drow said slowly. "We have business to attend to, unless you have anymore questions?" "Well, now that you mention it, I do have one question. One that I have pondered on for a long time." Silver smiled slowly, and softly said, "What Color IS Drow blood?"

"Good question Silver, I have often wonder that myself." Crimsonfyre stepped onto the path behind the assailants.

"And you know me Silver, I always have to find out." Crimsonfyre freed his sword from its scabbard and smiled. "So.......lets find out."

The five dark figures began to close in together. Eelya M’rtr hissed through his clinched teeth, "You two are fools." "Oh shut up Elf." Said Crimsonfyre as he half circled the group. "Byrl wants to see your pointy ears on my belt." With a shriek Eelya M’rtr spun almost faster than the eye could see and turned loose his dagger toward Crimsonfyre. The Dagger found its mark and bit deep into Crimsonfyre’s shoulder. As silent as padded feet on a rug Eelya M’rtr cleared the lumbering human in front of him, and with the same ease brought his sword down across Silverstreak’s shield. Meanwhile, Crimsonfyre was very busy. With the dagger still imbedded deeply in his shoulder, he brought his sword up to fend off yet another attack. There was a clash of swords that left Crimsonfyre and his opponent locked together by their sword hilts. Crimsonfyre pulled his opponent around to face him using the weight as leverage, he kicked one of the approaching Dark Elves squarely in the jaw, felling him like a tree. Now able to concentrate solely on his opponent, Crimsonfyre extended his arms to their fullest and quickly pulled free of the other sword. His blade flashed and then cut deeply across his opponents stomach.

As Crimsonfyre was in battle, Silverstreak was also engaged in combat with two of the attackers. Silverstreak reflected the blow delivered by the Drow with her shield, and spun to her right where she caught the steel of the other attacker with her sword. Sparks were flying as the two blades slid off each other. Silverstreak continued to bring her Shield around and drove it into the shoulder of her attacker, sending him tumbling to the ground. Knowing if she gave the Dark elf one hairs breadth that she would not see the morning sun. She quickly continued her spin, ready to parry another blow, and she was not disappointed. Eelya M’rtr landed hard on her shield. Again she let the blow from the Elf carry her around. This time she was going to do the talking. The Drow’s skills and speed were what stories were made of. Silverstreak's blade thinly sliced Eelya M’rtr’s right cheek just under the eye. Then in one fluid motion, with the momentum already there, Silverstreak laid her shield on the ground and rolled forward and up to her feet. She felt the wind from the Drow’s blade as she tumbled past.

Crimsonfyre’s human attacker wrapped his arms around his stomach, trying to keep in what was to stay in. With a surprised look on his face he sank to the ground clutching his stomach. Crimsonfyre turned in time to catch another blade with his. The sound of steel on steel rang in the night air. As Crimsonfyre parried every blow he realized he had not fought with one of such skill before. Crimsonfyre began to wonder, "Why, by all the gods are Dark Elves above ground and this close to Kurz? ..and what did they want with Byrl?" Out of the corner of his eye he could see the other Elf, with the crushed jaw, rising to his feet. He knew that even though the Elf was hurt he wouldn’t be able to fight two with such skill, he had to act quickly. Crimsonfyre’s last parry had left the Elf exposed with it’s weapon high. He kicked out hard, connecting soundly with the Eves chest. Continuing the motion, he pulled his sword down and around, and let it fly. His sword covered the distance faster than the Elf could believe it was happening. It found a home as fitting as its scabbard, and drove itself deep into the Elf’s chest. The Drow that Crimsonfyre kicked rolled on his back and then up to his feet. He didn’t expect the human to be already upon him. Crimsonfyre upon releasing his sword had thrown himself upon the Elf. He grabbed the sword hand of the Drow and twisted it over and around driving the tip towards its owner, but found himself holding the sword, and no Elf. The Drow had disappeared. Crimsonfyre stood with his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"Silver?" Silverstreak’s other enemy had already recovered and had seen an opening when she rolled. He raised his blade over his head to deal a deadly blow. Silverstreak, seeing him out of the corner of her eye had purposely thrown herself that direction. Before Silverstreak had come to a complete stance her sword had already been buried deep. Her opponent convulsed and shook as he slid off her sword. She knew that Eelya M’rtr was upon her, and she thought she could feel his breath on her neck. With both hands on the sword and her shield still sleeved she pulled the rest of her sword free. Every muscle was taut as she brought her weapon down and then up behind her as she turned. Eelya M’rtr was already in attack. His blade held up like a dagger he was going for the kill. Again his speed and agility was something from another world. Silverstreak’s sword swung up to meet his assault. As he slowed, the tip of her blade sliced his outer garments up to his throat, it was then that it began to bite. Another thin slice that started at the base of the throat and stopped at his chin. Elven blood began to flow again. The Drow clutched his throat with both hands. Silver could see the blood coming through his fingers. She did not hesitate, she brought her sword back around to finish the job, but cut only thin air. Silverstreaks eyes widened in disbelief. The Drow just simply disappeared. "Crim?"

They stood for what seemed to be hours looking at each other and then at the place where their enemy should be lying dead. It wasn’t long before Crimsonfyre dropped to his knees. He had lost a lot of blood. The knife that Eelya M’rtr had thrown was still doing its work in his shoulder. He reached up and grasped the handle firmly but did not have the strength to pull it out. "SILVER!" Crimsonfyre shouted, but she was already at his side. Her eyes wide looking at the wound, hoping that the blade was not poisoned.

"Get this blasted thing out of me." he groaned.

"Okay, just calm down."

"Why didn’t you just go poof like they did?" Silverstreak smiled. "It would save you the embarrassment of me saving your butt."

"Just pull it and save the tales for later." Crimsonfyre grit his teeth and waited. Silverstreak looked over at Byrl Odell and saw that he was sitting up.

"You okay Pappy?"

"Of course ‘m girl, and we showed ‘em din’t we, blasted Drow!" Crimsonfyre drew a faint smile.

"Yeah Pap, we showed them."

"Now this is going to hurt Crim, here bite on my glove."

"Just pull the blasted thing out, your enjoying this to much." Silverstreak gripped the handle of the dagger firmly.

"I am going to count to three, ready?" Crimsonfyre nods. Silverstreak starts counting,

"One.......two.......!" as Silverstreak pulled the dagger free. Crimsonfyre cried out in pain, and doubled over. Silverstreak held the blade to her nose smelling for poison, and was gratified to know there was none. After a few minutes Crimsonfyre looked up at Silverstreak and yelled, "WHAT HAPPENED TO THREE?" Silverstreak looked innocently at Crimsonfyre.

"What? Quite your complaining, its out." Silverstreak’s smile slowly faded with the realization of their situation. "Crim? You have lost a lot of blood." She looked at her brother and pushed his hair back with her hand.

"Don’t you die on me." Crimsonfyre looked up at Silverstreak and saw the worry in her eyes.

"What, and miss a chance to torment you, no way your stuck with me." Silverstreak’s smile returned.

"We have a long way to go Crim before we get to Kurz, and we can’t stay here." By this time Byrl Odell has made it to their side. Holding on to his ribs Byrl Ordell explains’ "We cin’t stay ‘ere. We ‘ave to move." Crimsonfyre held Silverstreaks glove tight against his wound, and with Silverstreaks aid he rose to his feet.

"Then lets move." Silverstreak placed her arm around Crimsonfyre’s waist and with Byrl Odell at their side they began to walk to Kurz. Crimsonfyre looked at his small friend and wondered aloud.

"Pappy what is going on?" Byrl Odell looked at the two humans his family has grown to love as their own, and with a voice that seemed to quiver with fear he said, "I need to speak to Knighthawke, ..........the mysts begin to move."