Smoke? An enormous pillar of smoke rising to the early evening sky, forming a black string over the crimson sun. What is the meaning of this? And sounds, sounds of battle.

The tall, dark-haired elf frowned his brow. He was standing on a small hill, looking back through the tree-tops towards the smoke. The great black wolf at his side whined, and he nodded.

"Yeah, wasn't there a human settlement in that direction?"

Swordeye nodded to himself and started back in almost the same direction as they had come, his wolf following close.

About half an hour later, Swordeye stopped and sank into the bushes in the perimeter of the humans cornfields. The sounds of battle lay heavy in the air, and now he heard many screaming voices - the harsh voices and smells of… His face turned dark. "Trolls!"

He slowly crept closer to the sounds until he could not only smell, but see what was happening. Flames licked the humans houses, and fleeing humans ran around chaotically. The humans bravely tried to defend themselves against the little group of trolls attacking them, but in vain.

A human woman, carrying a small child tried desperately to escape, crossing between the burning houses, stepping over the dead bodies of her tribe's warriors. Suddenly, a troll came up in front of her, cutting off her escape.

By the sight of the wickedly laughing troll, Swordeye reacted in a second. He grabbed his bow and an arrow, and with a curse, he let the arrow fly. The troll gave a grunt of surprise and fell to the ground, and the woman didn't bother to look for her saviour, but ran out of the villages into the bushes, the child held firmly to her chest.

Shadow growled, and Swordeye turned his head only to see a troll charging at him. A huge arm brisked him aside, and he fell to the ground. The troll stood on top of him and laughed.

"A small elf-creep shouldn't pick on those bigger than him." The troll aimed a kick at him and hit him in the ribs. Swordeye could the bitter taste of blood in his mouth and moaned as he tried to draw his sword. Shadow growled from behind, telling his elf-friend that more trolls had closed in on them.

"Oh, no. That tooth-pick of yours is much to big." The troll punched his foot down on the elf's hand and the sword. "Didn't your mother tell you not to play with sharp weap....?"

<THUD>

The troll's eyes widened as he saw the arrowshaft sticking out of his head, just above the brows. As he fell, several more thuds were heard, and more trolls fell to the ground, pierced by elfin arrows.

Swordeye rolled away and got up on his feet, drawing his sword and hurled himself with a cry at the last trolls.

Soon, the sound of burning wood was the only sound that was heard. Everywhere lay dead bodies, humans and trolls, and the smell of death and destruction tickled his nostrils. Shadow sneezed and looked at Swordeye moaningly. Swordeye held his broken ribs, and staggered toward the bushes, dragging his bloodied sword behind him.

#Come out friend, whoever you are...# Swordeye stopped and leaned on his wolf, exhausted, searching the surroundings with his eyes.

The bushes rustled, and a figure appeared. It was clearly an elf, but taller than most of his kind although not as tall as Swordeye. He was dressed in a dark-green tunic with no sleeves, and brown leggings in the same material. But his pale face was cold, and the eyes shone angry grey-green under a mane of wild red-brown hair.

"I thank you. You have saved my life."

The stranger was quiet, just watched him closely.

"Who are you? Where are you from?"

They looked at each other in silence.

"I am called Skyfire. I come from the north."

Swordeye eyed the strange elf suspiciously.

"I thank you, Skyfire. Shade and sweet water on the rest of your journey." Swordeye turned to walk away, but staggered and fell, his legs no longer supporting him. Unconcious he hit the ground.

To be continued…?