Role

Chapter 3

From a newly shaded precipice above the valley, a skinny felar stares into
the rising sun, taking in the newborn day's golden rays through half
squinted, eager brown eyes.

The fela in the meadow below him, golden fur gleaming just slightly more
brightly than the fresh sun's rays which begin to give the day's world
warmth, remains transfixed within the clearing by the same golden hue which
captivates the young felar concealed above him. "Ah, my dear companion, she
hunts and plays with all the fervor of life itself. I will seek her this eve
and I shall make certain to never have to view her from such a distance
again! Yes, as the elders have decreed, so young blood shall unite..."

... With a slight twitch of his ears, the felar picks up a sound just barely
eclipsing the beating of his own accelerated heart ... *thump* ... *Thump*
... *THUMP* ... a grey cloud briefly covers the sun barely before it peeked
into the day, as the young felar on the precipice turns his head downward
toward the sound, now growing painfully louder-- cutting through the crisp
air like so many blades through newly grown wheat.

A swarthy duergar in heavy shining armors steps into the clearing, halting
the convoy behind him.

"Clear thar kitten outta that thar field, men! This road won't have nun'a
these vermin stoppin' the Empress's roadways! Raze thar field an' start
first with that guldy furr-ed whelp!"

Faster then the winds themselves, two daggers followed by a pitch black drow
dark as death lunges into the clearing, ripping untouched golden fur into a
spray of blood, indistinguishable limbs separated lifelessly now on a crimson
patch of once golden field.

...

And so a young heart turns black. Never to see the world in such vibrant
colors again. Not since has the sun risen as bright as the beginning of that
day for Vreksoek. Though he yearns for nothing more then what almost was...