CH 1: The Hunter
It was a routine patrol. Reports had come in of roving bands of renegade Furlbogs, harassing travelers and demanding a tax to use the road from Darnassus to Dolanaar. Raene had been dispatched as much to quell the whining of the townsfolk as to actually confront the Furlbog. Dagri whined and pawed at the earth, taking a few steps off the path then looking back. This was unusual behavior. Normally Raene’s pet was quiet, obedient, and dutiful. She sighed and resigned to following the excited wolf north, towards the Oracle Glade. Cresting a hill, Raene looked out upon the peaceful glade. Surely the delay would only be a slight one, and if she ignored the wolf, undoubtedly it would become irritable…..and there is little else as troublesome as an aggravated wolf.
She breathed deeply, allowing the sweet fragrance of the wild to fill her lungs. She could hear a young rabbit, munching on crisp green vegetation, the echoing cry of a horned owl as it flew lazily above the tree tops, and the increasingly loud whining of her companion as the wolf rummaged through a dense patch of brush just off the side of the path. Growing tired of what she perceived to be a game, Raene approached her companion and then stopped short. Beneath the whining of the wolf she could hear another noise, the soft distinct cooing of a baby. She rushed to the bushes and searched for the source. He was smiling when she found him, cradling a small squirrel in his tiny hands. His green eyes shone like pure jade as he looked down at the infant creature dozing in his palm. Raene sat staring at the pair. It was a few minutes before her wolf friend nuzzled her cheek and she responded by scratching the spot between its ears. “Yes you did good Dagri. Now who…..” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the leather cloak the babe was wrapped in. Curious she reached out a hand and touched the immaculate midnight blue leather. The craftsmanship was unlike any she had ever seen. Each stitch was perfectly spaced and sewn with a delicate precision. The threads were gold, and sparkled with an inner light. She could feel a soft heat emanating from the fabric, and a large emblem caught her eye. Sewn into the center of the cloak was what appeared to be an elaborate design, golden arcs and sweeping lines intricately woven together, danced before her eyes. The design seemed alive, though she knew it was only a trick of the eye. Then a certain pattern caught her notice. This was no random latticework, it was writing! So beautifully woven and connected, the elven rune script seemed to be one pattern though in fact it was many. She concentrated and began to read aloud; “E-L-K-NIH.” As she read the word, a small delicate hand reached up and brushed her cheek. The baby night elf boy giggled, and somewhere a wolf howled at the moon.
