His blade rose and fell and a warcry went up amongst his kinsman who whose
bloodlust was growing. As they pushed through the orcs, they realized that the
“prisoners” in tow were drow, mistaking them as conspirators; they cut a swath
through the terrified children. Orc and drow blood stained the tree trunks and
ground a gruesome dark crimson in the full moonlight.

“STAY YOUR HANDS!!!” the captain had just realized that his men were
murdering defenseless children. Despair that nearly knocked him to the ground
washed over him as he thought of his own boys, twins, not yet thirty years of age.
The grief quickly passed as he was once again master of himself. “STAY YOUR
HANDS!!!. These are children!”

“They are drow, better off dead anyways!!” Illithonilos, a huge wood elf, and
bullheaded sergeant of the wardens challenged. “I will kill them all!” He swung
his huge axe twice with lightning quickness, the first decapitating a cowering child
of six, his second never connected, for Ergenius was quicker, and his hand axe was
already embedded between the eyes of the massive sergeant. The last of the drow
children, a four year old, stood upright, stunned at all that had taken place before his eyes and could not move as the huge form of Illithonilos dropped forward onto him.

Ulthinius grew up amongst the family of Ergenius as a son and brother. He was slightly reserved and took to the forest rather well. He was a particularly skillful stalker while hunting, making nearly no noise while in the woods, and always
striking swiftly and accurately. He favored the spear above all other weapons, for he looked dearly upon Ergenius, who was a master with the spear. While the spear was his favorite, the sword was his true calling. By twenty, not even his brothers, who were nearly thirty years his elder, could beat him with a blade. It was at this time, that Ulthinius began to keep a journal.