Fefnir walked through the forest, holding an orb of white light in his right hand. He held the orb high above his head, illuminating the forest around him, though it did no good. Even the light of the pale moon could not penetrate the thick cover given by the dark trees.
The boy was sixteen, standing at about six feet tall, with sandy hair. His brow was covered with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. He used his free left hand to push branches aside and swat away the occasional spider. As he went, the spiders became more frequent, and larger.
It had been four days since he had last been in a town, a nice hospitable one at that. It had been sad to leave them, but nobody there could teach him, and Fefnir refused to settle. He would become the best.
But now, lost in the dark forest, surrounded by unnaturally large spiders, Fefnir was beginning to wonder why the hell he had ever left home. What was so bad about being a farmer? It couldn't have been any worse than being lost in this forest.
The boy's legs screamed in protest with every step, begging him to stop, but he continued on.
Eventually, he was tripped by a stray tree root, hidden in the dead foliage that littered the forest. The moment he hit the ground, the orb of light which he had held dissipated, leaving him alone in the dark forest.
Flipping himself over to stare at the thick leaves above him, the boy snapped.
Frustration and anger getting to him, he let out a scream that echoed throughout the forest, bouncing off every tree, bush, and flower.

Eliel walked through the woods silently, one hand on the neck of his umbra kitten, Gwen. Sure, she was still a kitten, but even so she was as big as a panther. She led him through the darkness, following a strange light up ahead. Eliel moved swiftly, drow-made cloak brushing against the forest floor, scimitar bouncing against his leg.

He was nearing the source when the light was extinguished, making the boy yell into the night. Eliel frowned and held back Gwen, whose predator instincts told her the boy was making a challenge. Eliel used their telepathic connection to calm her, make her stay at his side.

From a pack he produced a rusty red lantern, setting it on a rock. Eliel waited as a ghost floated from it and took the handle, lighting the area with a soft ghostly light. The spirit followed his every step, lighting his way to the boy.

Gwen left his side and circled around, to the other side of the boy, to flank him in case he turned out to be something else. He drew his newest sword, the rapier made by the star elves, and pointed it towards him. The ghost entered the area and the small section was flooded with soft light, revealing Eliel and Gwen.

The boy laid there, staring into the darkness above him, when he heard a rustling in the leaves around him. As he lifted his head, the ghostly light entered his vision, illuminating the world with its eerie light.
The first thing the boy saw was the tip of a sword. Jumping up a bit, the boy scrambled backwards, sliding along the ground.
A few feet away, the boy pushed himself off the ground and pulled out his sword in one deft move.
"Who are you? W-what do you want?" he asked, his voice shaking a little bit. Fefnir's heart was racing, the blood racing through his body, adrenaline being poured into his veins. He took a step back, only to bump into the man's panther. Yelping, he jumped away from the creature, facing the man and his pet, his sword held out in front of him.
The metal blade gleamed dully with the light of the ghost lantern, shining onto the dark brown bark of the trees around Fefnir.
There was no breeze to ruffle the boy's hair, nor to cool his face, nor to disturb his black cloak. Everything was silent, motionless, as if the forest was holding its breath to see what happened next...

Eliel smiled a little at his reaction. The boy thought to fight him? If he tried anything, Eliel would stop it. Immediately. He looked at him calmly and sheathed his sword, gauntlets on just in case. Gwen sat behind him, watching the boy carefully.

“Put your sword away, boy. I don't think you're in a position to ask questions. What are you doing out here on your own?” He asked curiously. The boy seemed much too young to survive on his own. Even if he had a sword, it didn't matter. It could have been something much worse than Eliel and Gwen to find the boy out here in the darkness.

“I am Eliel. And I am merely traveling. As I am fit to do so on my own.” He looked the boy up and down. Surely he wasn't skilled enough with that blade to do any real harm?

“Say. How old are you, boy?”

((Lol, sorry it's short))

Fefnir didn't sheath his sword, but kept it held firmly in his hands. He'd beaten all of his brothers when they played the sword fighting game back at home. Truthfully, it was nothing like an actual fight, considering the fact that the game was played with sanded wood swords. But the idea was the same, and Fefnir had gotten good. He had once beaten all three of his brothers at once.
Fefnir was still breathing heavily, his eyes darting backwards every so often to look at the large cat. It sat there, its fur gleaming in the ghostly light, watching him.
Regaining some of his composure, he stood up straighter, the sword still in his hand. "What does it matter to you why I'm out here?" he asked, practically spitting out the words.
He immediately regretted it. This man had a sword, not too much of a problem, he could hold his own... hopefully. But more worrying was the large cat that sat behind Fefnir... Who knew what that thing could do to him?
Slowly, he spoke again. "I'm travelling..." he said slowly, each word being forced out of his mouth.

Eliel sighed. “Boy, there's much worse that could have found you. I'd suggest sheathing your sword. You can't accomplish anything fighting with me.” He sighed, then drew his rapier. “Unless, of course, you'd like to see how outmatched you are. I could most definitely help you see how much you have yet to learn to survive Imythess.” He said coolly, looking up and down his blade.

Eliel chuckled. “Don't worry. Gwen won't attack unless I say so. Or you attack me in an unfair way. Think of her as a referee.” He smiled at the thought.

“In any case, it seems you need to be taught to respect your elders, as it seems I am nearly three hundred years older than you.” He put one arm behind his back and his sword before him, challenging him. “I will not harm you. Just want to see how ready you are.”

Eliel smiled at him cheerily. He would enjoy this.

For the first time, Fefnir got a good look at the man in front of him. He had hair as white as the snow that fell in the winter, but his skin was black as the night sky. His eyes were black as an abyss, but glittered gold with hidden knowledge and power.
Fefnir shifted in his stance, adjusting his grip on the sword. A slight breeze found its way through the forest, brushing through the boy's hair and making his cloak billow.
"I don't want any trouble, sir," he said, practically spitting out the last word.
A scowl was on Fefnir's face as he looked at the man holding the rapier. What was this man's problem? He sneaks up on him, points a sword to his face, and decides the boy is being difficult!
His breathing was slow now, deep and deliberate.
"And anyway," he said, looking the man up and down once more, "you don't look three hundred years older than me..." The truth was, in the small village where Fefnir grew up, they hadn't seen much anything other than humans. He knew about elves and the such, but the stories he had heard seemed more like fairy tales. Creatures that lived for hundreds of years? Living in trees, undetected? Little people that mined mountains? It just all seemed to far fetched.

Eliel smiled as the boy seemed to get a look at him. That would be part of why he had shown so much disrespect. Eliel truly wasn't much used to it, as not many people picked a fight with a drow. Eliel smiled as he spat out his words. He even tried being disrespectful when he knew about the drow.

“Of course I wouldn't look it. Elves age much much more slowly than humans and such. We're nearly immortal, compared to human lifespans.” He smiled at him, sword lowering, tip to the ground. If he made any moves, Eliel could simply cage him until he got the boy's word.

The drow smiled at the boy. “I'm not your enemy here, human, nor do I want to be. I don't want any trouble either, but a spar could hardly be called trouble, can it? Hell, I could help you with your swordsmanship. There's no need to make enemies. I doubt you've gotten any real swordplay. Maybe you can do some 'fancy' swordwork with someone who hasn't picked up a blade in their life, but I can help with that. What do you say?” He asked.

Eliel saw nothing wrong with the offer, he was offering help at no cost to the boy. Sword practice with a drow? How rarely would that offer come up? Besides, the only way to improve himself was to go over the basics with a better understanding of them. By helping the boy, he could help himself.

Fefnir, stood up a bit straighter, his blade beginning to point downwards. He wanted to spar? Well... How good could he be? He thought back to his time at home, play fighting with his brothers. If he could beat all three of his brothers, he could stand a chance against this guy. Hell, when he'd convinced his father to try, Fefnir had almost beaten him. And his father had been in the army.
Fefnir sighed, staring into the Drow's black, gleaming eyes. Moving the sword from his right had to his left, the boy extended his now empty hand.
"A sparring match it is..." he said, a little bit worried. Sparring with real weapons? The could get ugly very quickly. And with that panther, it was almost sure to get ugly. Something about the way the drow spoke made Fefnir distrust him. Perhaps the way his voice seemed to bend and twist as it passed through his mind. Regardless, Fefnir had the sneaking suspicion that this man had something up his sleeve.
A light crunching noise could be heard from beyond the trees, just beyond the reach of the ghostly light. If one looked, a blur of movement could be seen, followed only by silence and stillness...
They were not alone in this forest.

Eliel switched sword hands and shook the boy's firmly, backing up to take his defensive position. Eliel put away his rapier and drew forth his scimitar, a more familiar weight to him, liking the heavier damage and confusing curves of the Drow Scimitar. The blade itself was a beauty, glistening black steel. The razor edge shone, serrated back making a deadly tool.

Eliel wore it as if it were more than a tool however, the way he held it suggested it was more of another limb, an extension of his arm rather than a weapon. He knew every angle, every twist and curve. This sword was him essentially.

Eliel chuckled. “After you, boy.” His ears perked as he heard the sound, elven ears sensing a cracking noise.

Fefnir returned the sword to his right hand and backed up, each step crackling as he crushed dead leaves beneath his boots. Once he had distanced himself from the man, Fefnir turned around, taking up an offensive position. He held his left hand out. Suddenly, an orb of light appeared in his hand, and, holding it in front of him, Fefnir charged at the man, swinging his sword at the drow.
After his attack, the boy would jump backwards, the sword held ready. Who knew what that man was going to do?
Off in the forest, twigs cracked and more leaves crinkled under the weight of watchers. There was a small crowd amassing around the pair, but it was not human. Every single one of them stayed outside the reach of the ghostly light, watching the pair with strange interest. Sharp eyes would be able to detect hundreds of red eyes staring from the bushes, waiting, watching... And not only were those hundreds watching, but more kept appearing, traveling from far and wide to converge on this area. By this point, the two men and the panther were surrounded. Nobody would escape. The forest would not permit it.
A slight wind passed through the trees, the forest whispered.

Eliel sighed as the boy made for a clumsy attack. Given, the light was an idea, but considering it's brightness was rather dimmed by the ghost's light. His scimitar shone as it blocked the boy's attacks with ease. The boy jumped back instead of keeping his position, sometimes a fatal move considering how much balance and swordsmanship you lose while jumping. Backwards especially.

While he would still be off-balance, Eliel pressed him with an offensive, blade seeming to curve and swing in in impossible ways. He continued his flurry of attacks, the boy's light reflecting off the black steel of Eliel's blade.

The drow noticed the sounds, not truly focusing his thoughts on the spar. He was preparing himself for whatever might come after them. He and Gwen could handle themselves, but would this be the boy's first real fight? He'd like to think not but nothing he had said proved otherwise.

Gwen moved from her position, turning her back to the two, watching those outside. She sent him a mental warning and Eliel told her he knew. Eliel's scimitar came in at the boy in a wide arc, turning up and slicing upwards at the last second.

((sorry, wrong alt lol))

Fefnir did not notice the sounds around him, focusing completely on the man before him. When the drow came in for an attack, he held his sword up, hoping to parry. But the blade flew through the air with surprising speed, a shining black blur closing in on the boy.
Swinging his sword, the boy managed to block an attack or two, but he was not nearly fast enough to block all of them. Each blow was a slap of cold metal, on his arm, leg, chest, side, hip... It seemed like the blade was a hand, simply groping the boy as it saw fit.
Battered, he allowed the light in his hand to extinguish, becoming a ball of light mist before dissipating into the air.
The final attack was the only thing that cut anything, leaving a gash in the boy's abdomen. Nothing serious, but enough to leave a scar, a memoir of the day he sparred with a drow.
"Enough, enough..." he said, falling to his knees. Reckless as he was, even this boy knew when he was beaten.
But he would not be left.
The smell of blood in the air, the creatures that surrounded them could contain themselves no longer. From all sides, a massive wave of giant, hairy spiders surged forth, hungry for flesh. They ranged from the size of a newborn babe, to as large as a full grown horse, trampling everything in its path. They ran forth, closing in on Eliel, Fefnir, and the panther, screaming for blood in shrill, unearthly pitches.
And so it began...

Eliel stopped when the boy asked, he was going to stop anyhow, he had drawn first blood. Eliel sheathed his scimitar, drawing his rapier. With all the opponents, he was going to need speed. He looked at one pair of eyes and muttered to the boy.

“Get your sword up. You'll need it.” Then the spiders attacked. For a second, Eliel was paralyzed, not sure of what to do. Certain experiences with spiders had left him with a few scars and killed his sister, giving her nearly half a century of torture to endure.

Of torture.

Eliel felt a fury he had long buried, the huge spiders reminding him of the cursed by lolth, the driders who used his sister for a breeder for so long. He stopped in cool anger. “Gwen! Cover my back!” He yelled to the Umbra, and she nodded, bounding to his side. She could prove a help in this fight. One spider was coming towards the wounded boy from behind. Eliel cursed and whipped his sword out to point at the beast. He spoke a single word, inscribed on the blade in tiny lettering. A light shot from the blade and encased the spider, trapping it in an unescapable cage. “Boy! Here!” he said, throwing him an ivory-colored chesspiece. A bishop. Eliel said the word and it grew into a full-sized man, real. The man cast heal on the boy, then a bless spell.

Eliel turned to the oncoming horde and pulled out his wand, aiming at the spiders and beginning his incantation. For the first time in nearly three years, he would have to deplete the thing.

Fefnir pushed himself up when the drow yelled to him. From every side, spiders poured towards them, jaws clicking with thirst and hunger.
Another yell, and the drow threw something at the boy. Catching it, he saw that he held... a chesspiece. Ivory, and of fine quality, it shone in the light given by the ghost. Before he could question the drow's sanity, the bishop began to glow and exploded into a full sized man. The bishop looked at Fefnir and held out a hand, palm facing the boy. All of a sudden, the gash on his front was gone, healed completely.
Then, as if touched by the gods, he felt something within him. Suddenly, he felt ten times stronger than he'd ever felt, the ability to do great things coursing through his veins.
A grin on his face, the boy tightened his grip on the sword in his hand, running towards the nearest spider. Screaming, he slashed his sword, beheading the creature, his sword now stained with green blood. A demonic hiss escaped the beast's headless body before it fell to the ground.
The boy slashed his sword left and right, hitting spiders with every swing. It felt as if he could do no wrong.
He let out a laugh, filled with a strange pleasure He was enjoying this.
Running forward, he jumped onto a spider, sitting on its back. It bucked and rolled, trying to make the boy fall off, but to no avail. Years of living on a farm had given this boy a steady grip. Sword in hand, he drove the blade into the creature's head.
Jumping down, he saw the drow, speaking to his sword.
"What's the matter? You're not gonna let me have all the fun, are you?"

Eliel shook his head as the boy questioned him releasing the spell on his sword. If the boy looked a few yard to his left, he would see an angered spider trapped in a glowing cage. Eliel sent a message to Gwen and she nodded, jumping out to meet a couple of the spiders. One swing of the paw and a sickly snap later, she has taken the head of one arachnid. He turned back to face several spiders coming his way.

Eliel's wrist snapped, cleaving a spider's head in two. Eliel watched the four spiders in front of him, approaching more carefully now. He finished his incantation and aimed his wand, firing off a cast enervation bolt. The beam of negative energy hit one full one, knocking it back and killing it. Eliel fired off three more, killing each of three spiders with enough force to kill a human. He slipped the depleted wand away and lifted his left hand up to stop a leaping spider.

The large, black form hit him hard, only unable to get him because of his hand holding it just out of reach. It struggled and Eliel nearly gave up, but the spider lifted itself to simply fall on him and crush him. Eliel rolled away at the same time as extending the steel claws from the gauntlets and slicing them neatly through the spider's underside.

The spider fell into a pile of it's own gore, Eliel turned to face the new opponents.

How many could there be?

Fefnir continued fighting, felling one foe after another. Digging his sword into an arachnid's head, he could not remove it, but more kept coming. Desperate, he swung anyway, batting the creatures away with the spider corpse. With a mighty swing, the corpse flew off the sword, landing on a smaller spider, crushing it.
Backing up, but still slashing, Fefnir approached the drow.
"Hey... How many of these things are there?" he asked, his voice feigning nonchalance.
But the spiders kept coming, their numbers increasing as they swarmed in on the group in droves. Fefnir hacked and slashed, aiming at anything black, furry, and that had more than four legs.
An arachnid flew at the boy from behind, catching him off guard. Trying to shake it off, flailed wildly, almost hitting Eliel with his sword. Barring its fangs, the spider bit the boy in the shoulder. Yelling in pain, he grabbed its head and threw it into a tree, skewering it. The wound bled, his red blood dripping down onto the ground. His hand on the wound, he continued to painfully slash at the spiders, considerably slower than he had before.
The scent of blood only increased the fervor with which the spiders fought. Drawn by the red juice of life, the creatures flowed towards them faster.
Far off in the distance, a loud, earth-shaking stomping could be heard. The trees shook, and the few scarce birds that inhabited this part of the wood flew off. They knew when it wasn't safe.

-delete-

Eliel dodged the wild swings of the boy, who seemed to forget for a moment that he was there. Eliel sliced open another spider. The arachnids seemed to start to leave him alone, heading for the wounded boy. Eliel cursed and moved next to him, Gwen behind them. The bishop cast a new healing spell on the boy and Eliel, healing many scratches and small cuts the swordsman had received.

Eliel sliced into a number of smaller spiders, given that the three had killed off most of the bigger ones. He cursed as a small one bit his leg. His rapier flashed down the sever it's head, leaving it attached to his leg.

Eliel dismissed the bishop, pocketing the piece. He continued cutting before he realized they had slowed. There was a sense of fear among them, of doubt. The spiders scurried off back into the forest as a huge sound echoed through the woods.

“Ah, wonderful. Something bigger's coming our way.” He sighed and let the caged spider go, watching it scuttle into the shadows. Eliel sighed and looked at his two companions. “Ready to go?” He chuckled.

Fefnir nodded, feeling the his strength returning to him as the wound was healed.
"Let's get out of-" he said, interrupted by a loud crashing noise.
The noise had been caused by a tree, which had been pushed over by a... a large, scary... thing.
It was humanoid, and wore a loincloth, its muscular body a vibrant red. It stood at twelve feet, its body rippling with unbelievable muscles. Its eyes shone with unearthly fire, hatred simmering deep within them. His hair, black as the abyss, fell down past his knees, flowing in the wind. As he came closer, the air seemed to become colder, Fefnir could see his breath in the air.
Looking down at the three, the beast plucked a spider the size of a dog off his leg and bit off its head, green juices flowing down his chin. Popping the rest of his snack into his mouth, the beast took a step towards the three, the earth shaking as he did.
Letting out a roar that echoed through the forest, he placed his hands before him, summoning a blade. It's hilt, shined silver, but the blade was of an obsidian metal, glinting in the pale moonlight. Screaming again, he impaled the ground with the sword, causing cracks to go in all directions, one of them straight between Fefnir's legs.
Luckily, the boy stepped over it before a jet of flame erupted over it. Panting and on the ground, the boy looked up at the beast.
"S***." he said, unable to think of any other words.
The beast pulled the sword out of the ground and pointed it at the group.
"S***."

Eliel watched the fiend closely. He was startled by it, but he had dealt with worse. And this time he was prepared. “Right.” He said as the demon's blade sent flames at the three. Eliel barely missed getting roasted, only catching a side blast of heat, which was absorbed by his cloak. Once again, his cloak saved his life.

He watched as it raised it's blade in challenge. The boy next to him seemed near useless, and Eliel wondered how much he could do against this opponent. Eliel's own doubts entered his mind, but were washed away by an attempt to clear his mind.

Eliel raised his rapier to the monster. “So are we going to fight or look pretty?” He taunted the demon. It was never a good idea to taunt a demon. Especially if it had a bigger sword. Eliel watched it's eyes flare. It came at him, blade I a sweeping arc. Eliel placed his blade under the demon's and used his strength, helped along by the bless spell, to move it up and over the drow's head.

Eliel watched it grow angrier, lifting it's sword above it's head. The thing swung hard aiming to cut him in half from head to groin. Eliel swung his rapier up to meet it.

Had the blade not been made by the star elves, it may have shattered.

((right, seeing as you've described a demon worse than most of imy had ever seen, i'm going to tone it down by a bit.))

((Sorry, guess I got a little bit carried away :P))
Fefnir scurried back when the beast attacked, but he slowly regained his courage as the effects of the bless spell regained control. Hope and strength flooding his every pore, Fefnir gripped his sword tighter than ever, pushing himself up.
"Leave some for me, will ya?" he called out, running towards the thing. But he didn't get more than a few steps forward before the beast pointed at the boy. A vicious finger and a terrible roar, and a swarm of spiders flowed out of the forest at the boy.
It didn't want him interrupting.
Turning its attention back to the drow, the beast, began to chant an incantation. Once the last words were said, echoing into the forest, the sword glowed green for a moment, then returned to its normal hue.
Spider Bite. Should the beast hit the man with his blade, the wound would swell up, as if it were a spider bite. Strangely, every slash of the sword would leave nothing more than two pricks, the mark of a large spider's fangs.
Roaring, the beast ran towards Eliel, sword in hand and hair flapping behind him.
Fefnir, a little ways away, was still battling the spiders. There seemed to be no end to them as they kept flowing out of the forest, converging on a single point. Fefnir.
Felling one spider after another, the boy called out to the drow.
"I'll be there in a minute!"

Eliel's eyebrow cocked as he broke away from the other, watching him carefully. The demon had eight eyes as well as spider magic. Ooh, this could get interesting. Eliel chuckled as he put up his rapier, looking at the demon, at least a foot taller than him. Eliel may have been smaller, but he was a better swordsman, and was much quicker.

He watched carefully as the demon cast his spell. With a curse, he got into stance, sending several calm messages to Gwen. She understood most of it and circled the thing, hiding in the shadows. Eliel blocked the next attack and took an offensive, driving the beast back with his closeness. While he struggled for footing, Eliel pressed him, giving him a nice thin cut along the left pectorial. The beast growled at him and stood straight, nearly bowling the drow over. He jumped out of the way. The demon's blade nicked his leg and Eliel grimaced, looking down. There were two small holes. The cloak had done fine work, protecting him from most of the magic.

Eliel dodged the next swing and whipped the thin blade towards it, releasing another of the blade's starlight webs. The beast was trapped in it's own prison, hammering at it with it's blade. Eliel sighed and sheathed his sword, drawing his scimitar. The break in battle was all he needed.

Eliel yelled to Gwen “Now!” As he released the demon, Gwen called on her natural abilities as an umbra, summoning a globe of pure darkness ten feet in diameter around the demon's top half. Eliel nicked it's right thigh, then spun around while it bent over in a blind attempt to cleave him in two.

Eliel spun behind it and sliced his blade at the demon in a controlled attempt to hamstring it.

The beast roared at the drow's sword cut deep. Falling to the ground, the beast simply stayed there, painting.
Then, suddenly, the beast let out one last, shrill roar, and exploded into a puff of black smoke. The foul-smelling gas expanded, blowing everything back. The leaves were lifted from the ground, as were the small spiders.
Their master gone, every single arachnid stopped for a moment. There was a moment of painful silence and uncomfortable still. Then, just as quickly as everything had stopped, the massive horde of spiders about faced and scurried back into the forest, hiding once more among the shadows and dark leaves.
Panting, Fefnir sank his sword into the ground, using it to balance on. So tired that he was unable to keep standing, he fell to his knees, on hand still on the blade's pommel.
The forest was quiet again, for now, and the three were alone again. The boy pulled the blade out of the ground and fell backwards, sitting. His knees bent and his elbows resting on them, he turned to Eliel.
"That was..." he began, but could think of nothing to describe it. This was exactly the kind of thing that he had always imagined as a child. Out in the wild, meeting exotic people, fighting demons and abominations of nature...
It was his dream, it was his path.
He smiled, letting out a light laugh.

Eliel watched the beast disappear and the spiders scuttle away. He sighed and sheathed his scimitar with a chuckle, patting his cat on the head. Gwen purred and walked over to the boy's side, sitting and staring at him. Eliel laughed and walked over, offering a hand to help him up.

“Well, that was fun. Now aren't you glad you met me?” He chuckled and looked where the beast had disappeared, no doubt off somewhere deeper in the woods, recuperating for a second go. “I told you you could have met worse things out here, didn't I? You could have run into that cheery lad alone.” He laughed again.

Eliel smiled cheerily. He had gotten a good workout from all the fighting. His muscles were a bit tired, a couple beads of sweat running into his eyes. He was truly strange for his kind, the drow were not a friendly people by nature.

“Let's get out of here before the jolly red giant decides he wants a round two.” He smiled. Gwen nudged the boy with her big furry head.

Fefnir accepted the hand up happily, standing at his full height. Sheathing his sword, he laughed.
"I could have handled him just fine by myself," he said, laughing as he did. "Sir" he added, teasing the drow.
When Gwen nudged him, he looked down, finally understanding how one could love them. It was like a large cat... albeit vicious. Petting the creature between the ears, Fefnir looked up at the man.
"We've gone through this ordeal together, and still don't know each others names." he said, shaking his head with a light smile.
Extending a hand to the man, he spoke his name, "Fefnir Loewen."
From a position off in the distance, and unseen man was watching. That cursed Drow, ruining everything... The scene, however, was priceless.
A drow, a runaway, and a large cat, sitting amidst a slew of arachnid corpses, cloths torn and stained with green blood. Laughing, joking, and shaking hands as if they were friends in a pub.
The man scoweled. Perhaps he would laugh when he had a heart.
Spinning around, the man's cloak shrouded him in shadows before dissapearing completely.
He would be waiting, that boy wouldn't make it far...

Eliel chuckled. “Well, I'm sure you could have. But it appears I was the one he wanted to fight.” He winked at him heartily, then looked down at the panther-sized cat. He chuckled at her, patting her flank. “A good ally in any fight.” He winked.

“Why, it appears you're right. Eraspeola Usreanac, But I go by Eliel.” He shook the boy's hand firmly. “nice to meet you, Fefnir.” He smiled warmly. “Now for getting out of the forest. Say, if you ever need help with your swordsmanship, or just someone to fight with you, don't hesitate to visit me.”

Eliel dug through the pockets of his Piwifwi cloak and pulled out a rather rumpled piece of parchment, a map with Eliel's tower marked on it.

Eliel looked over his shoulder as he heard something, but passed it off as a spider.

Fefnir stood, petting the great cat between the ears as the Eliel regarded the map. It was something Fefnir had meant to get, but simply hadn't had time to when his father had chased him out of town.
The boy sighed, his thoughts returning to his father. A big bull of a man, strict in his ways, and with his punishments even stricter. He'd chased the boy out of the town once he saw the boy preform his first spell.
'There'll be no magic in my house,' he'd said, a grimace forever stamped onto his face. When the boy had refused to give up the craft, the man had taken up a spade and threatened the boy.
'Get out now, or so help me I'll-' but he hadn't heard that much. The boy had left the house before the man had reached the shovel.
But these were thoughts for another day, when there was nothing to think about. Now, he was lost in the middle of a forest infested with giant spiders, his company being a large, if not frightening, cat and a black-skinned man that was fantastic with a sword. He had plenty to think about.
"Where was it that you were heading?"

Eliel thought for a moment. “I was actually heading to my house. Come along, if you like. It's not too far. Over near the lake.” He smiled at the boy.

Eliel checked his equipment to make sure he had anything, then walked over to the rusty red lantern, held by the ghost. He took hold of the lantern, letting the ghost float back inside. The drow scratched his head and walked back, holding it high for them to see. He could see fine in the dim light, drow eyes accustomed to seeing colors and brightness from heat sources.

Eliel handed the lantern to the boy. “Here. Hold this until we get out of here. It's a bit dark and it'll keep the spiders away now that their mother figure is near-dead. They won't be bothering us again.” Eliel said, sure of himself.

“Besides, if they do come back, there's always enough blade to go around.” Eliel winked at him. The pale glow of Lan de Yue Jia's blade shone in it's sheath, now showing under the darkness. Eliel began walking.

Fefnir accepted the lamp and followed after Eliel. As the three of them, the two men and the umbra, Fefnir started to examine the lantern. It was a curious thing, not different from any other lantern that he had ever seen, though somehow completely different. It looked normal, the light from within flickering like a little flame, made of glass and metal… It was just like any other lamp. But somehow, when he held the thing, it sent a strange sensation up his arm. Something… ghastly. There was something in there, something less than alive, but more than dead.
“How far, do you think, is the lake?” he asked, trying to make conversation. It was all well that they had survived a supernatural attack together, but what were they to do, now that they’d formed a strange sort of bond. Surely after fighting off a swarm of spiders and their leader they would at least call each other friends? At the very least very good acquaintences.
The darkness barely stirred, the occasional creature readjusting itself as the lamplight disrupted its sleep. Nothing attacked from the bushes, and nothing barred their path. They were left unmolested by the forest dwellers…
It was unnerving.

The drow considered the question. “Oh, a good mile or two. Not too far. My house is a bit close than the lake, however. Sort of between the lake and the village.” He smiled warmly at the boy, an unnerving sight for any who knew drow as a race and did not know Eliel personally usually a smiling drow meant something along the lines as you should run.

Gwen ran off to chase some of the figures that moved away from the lamplight. Eliel chuckled. “Don't worry about her. She knows her way around better than I do. Mind you, I know my way around here pretty well.” He chuckled

The two walked for what seemed at least two or three hours, but it was an illusion created by the endless darkness, never knowing if you were close to the end or not.

“Almost there, Fefnir.”

Fefnir nodded, glad that they were finally going towards a town.
As they walked, he watched with a smile as the Umbra jumped left and right, going after the creatures moving in the shadows as a cat would a toy. He couldn't help thinking that, though this cat was dangerous and powerful, it was adorable all at the same time.
The smile that Eliel gave him didn't unnerve the boy as it would have most, but he was still a bit uneasy. It just seemed a little bit... wrong. The white teeth clashed terribly with his dark skin.
Tired of holding the lantern, the boy hung the thing from his hips, the light now swinging back and forth with every step. Both hands free, he laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head. His eyes looking side to side, watching the scenery brighten as they got closer to the exit, the boy followed the drow still, wondering what kind of house it was that he could live in it for three-hundred years.

((This thread is over. The story, however, continues here.))