Amorthon Blackwood

Amorthon generally considered himself to be a calm elf…a reasonable elf. Under normal circumstances, he rarely saw the need or value in unrestrained anger or rage. But ‘normal’ circumstances didn’t include threats to his family…or what he considered to be his family.

The ranger snarled as he loosed yet another arrow into the trapper’s corpse before kicking the body aside and moving to check on Savage. For days the two had been moving through the Crimson Thicket, covering the Shal'dorei refugees as they escaped and picking off hunters when they could. They had been well hidden, with Savage only moving in to attack when absolutely necessary. Most of the time the ranger was focused on his shooting, while the tiger kept watch...

Dark. Unfamiliar. That was the sight that greeted the young elf. The boy groaned as he sat up slowly, his head pounding. Slowly, he turned glancing around trying to remember…anything. He wasn’t supposed to be here, or that’s what it felt like. It was…there were…others. Family? No…did he have a family? Why was he here? Alone. 

The boy’s breaths started to come in short rapid bursts as he backed up against a nearby tree pulling his knees to his chest, and wrapping his arms around his legs tight as he continued to look around, wide-eyed and panicked. Every noise startled him, every cracked branch, every low crackle. He leaned his head down, trying to stifle his small cries before voices in the distance drew his attention....

The first rays of sunshine filtering through the trees of Eversong Woods found the ranger slowly making his way down one of the many rarely used paths only those familiar with the area bothered to use. He’d been up before sunrise, as usual, to take Savage hunting. The hunt had been good exercise, and it had been good to start to get back into a routine, something he had been avoiding for weeks. 

Amorthon adjusted his bag on his shoulder, and his grip on his bow before motioning for Savage to follow. Had anyone been following it would have appeared that the ranger was simply wandering, with no destination in mind. The reality was that he very much had a destination in mind. Somewhere he hadn’t visited in over a year…somewhere...

Quiet filled the workshop. Tools were put away, scraps of wood set aside, as Amorthon inspected the piece in front of him critically. With a heavy sigh he ran his hand across the headboard, the horse carved there, and then along the leg of the crib he'd been inspecting, checking for imperfections before grabbing padding to wrap around the uncovered leg.  The carriage would be by later in the day to pick up the piece, and within a week or so it would arrive in Darkwood Village. What happened after that, well that was up to his brother and, what was her name? Lorilin? 

He grit his teeth as he tightened the rope around the leg and the padding before straightening up and brushing his hands together. He gave the headboard one more...

All writings for Amorthon (up until the present moment) can be found HERE - I'll be working to cross-post from here on out.