It was at the darkest hour of the night. 

No star flickering in the sky. 

No moon shining gently in the woods.

There was no sound of nature. No birds or foxes around. Something that usually happens in Es Lise woods. A forest where the trees seem to be as tall as mountains with branches that fill the space surrounding them. It was as if the planet had chosen a side. 

She peered into the darkness gripping her blade. The hatred building up within her. Those humans deserved death, they deserved to be slaughtered one for one. She wanted to hear them squeal like the pigs they are. She wanted them to cower in fear, curse her. She wanted them to fear her. 

Yet she did not move a muscle, she had to be patient if she wanted to strike true. Her blade thirsted for blood. She could see how they were laughing and joking. So carefree as if there was nothing to be afraid of. Their camp was hard to spot from within the woods even though the campfire in the middle was well lit. It was surrounded by bushes in an almost circular shape. 

She counted seven heads, two male humans standing guard, with torches at their side, around the bushes out of sight from those sitting around the campfire. Those two were around seven bodies away from each other. The other five humans had set up some shabby tents with flags next to them. The flags depicted a roaring lion with sharp claws readying itself to attack its prey. A depiction that she would not soon forget. 

At the change of the hour, when the guards changed positions. She made her move. In the darkness of the night she leaped swiftly towards her first victim. Without making a single sound she pierced through his armour. As blood foamed out of his mouth she pulled her sword back. As the lifeless body fell on the ground it alarmed the other guard.

Something was happening but he was unsure of what it was. Was it an enemy attack or just a friend who got too drunk. As one approached the source of the sound, he froze. Dark eyes glittering in the torchlight gazed at him. “It can not be!” he muttered. “Dark Elf! A Dark elf is attacking! Prepare for …” Before he could finish his sentence his bodiless head hit the wet grass. 

Five left! Her slim body was now somewhat visible in the campfire light. “What’s a dark elf doing here? I thought you were all gone.” asked one of the humans. She did not answer with words, instead she readied her blade. 

Five on one wasn’t ideal, yet she had the advantage of the night over them. Without hesitation she drew back into one of the bushes and started preparing a spell. “Where did you go, you filthy impure Elf! Drawing back eh? Why don’t you approach us and join the rest of your kin in the underworld. COME ON THEN!” He shouted as the only light source got extinguished with a sizzled sound. 

They screamed, they were like sheep for a wolf in the night. She had no sympathy for them as she sliced through the remaining five members with ease. One for one their bodies hit the cold ground. 

She sighed, it didn’t satisfy her lust for blood. There was still hatred, there was still hunger for revenge. She searched through their tents for food, there was some leftover deer meat she could cook up. She lit the fire again with a swing of her hand and started preparing her meal. 

As she gazed into the campfire she could only think of one thing. Slaughtering more of those swines. Once she was done eating the leftover meat she searched around some more and found exactly what she was looking for. A grinding wheel and some rags to clean off the blood on her blade. 

it wasn’t a tedious job to clean off the blood from her blade, she was already used to the task. She inspected her sword, it was half her size and fairly thin for a blade of that caliber. It was crafted by her Great-great-great-great-grandfather and passed down through generations. It is astonishing that a blade aged over a thousand years could still look so new and cut so deep. She couldn’t think about it more as she started hearing the sounds of people approaching.

She dimmed the flames and swiftly put her blade in the scabbard. She hid herself in the bushes surrounding the encampment. The footsteps came closer, they were lighter than the stomping she was used to from the other humans. They must be hunters, she thought. Humans who spend their lives hunting dangerous creatures, they have fighting experience like no other human. Yet that is not the reason why they are so dangerous. They are wielders of both magic and weapons. In a world where humans and humanoids can only have one or the other they are considered a rarity. 

If a human possesses those traits they either are destined to become a lord or a hunter. She could see a light approaching, they were closer than she thought. “What are we searching for anyway?” Asked the one holding the torch. “For the fifth time you shithole, we are searching for that murderer who keeps killing them elite soldiers. The lord of this land, Goliax or whatever his name is, hired us to investigate and capture our killer alive.” replied the smaller one. 

Run! That is what her instincts told her. She was unsure if she would be able to take them unscathed. Hunters are difficult to get a read on. She should escape while she still has the chance. Without giving it more thought she turned around and started sprinting in the opposite direction of the voices. Her escape didn’t last long as she felt a voltcharge go through her body. She fell to the ground and felt her consciousness fading. The last thing she could hear was a third man shouting. “Quartz! Simon! I got her! The plan worked!”