So new story. Leave feedback and tell me of you want more. I'll try and update about once a week. Need at least five positive comment to continue. The young ranger rode silently down the dirt path. He was dressed in a forest green cloak. He had a bark brown tunic on and his breeches were the same color. His boots were those of any mans. Plain brown leather. He wore a belt with many assorted pouches. Two daggers were sheathed on either side of his hips. He had a massive longbow slung across his back and a quiver full of green fletched arrows under that. He was mounted atop a black horse with a white mane. The air was chilly and orange, red, and yellow leaves littered the ground. The sun was setting over the horizon. He rode in a comfortable silence. He rounded a bend in the road and a small town came into view. Smoke was coming from some of the chimneys of the small cottages. A smile hidden by his hood touched his face. It had been three long years since he had been home. "Finally home again." he said. His voice was deep and young. It was almost songlike indicating he was elven. He spurred his horse into a gallop leaning forward in the saddle as he did so. He pulled the reins back skidding the horse to a stop as he reached the edge of the village. He dismounted standing around six feet in height. He had a small but athletic build. He tied his horse to a hitching post and walked into the cobblestone streets. He was happy to see that no one was out at this hour. It was good to know he could escape the commotion of his return until tomorrow. His cloak flowed behind him as he walked down the street stopping in front of an inn. He slowly opened the door and entered. The inn bustled with commotion. A small fire was burning in the fireplace in the corner. Many coat of arms were hung along the walls. Many tables were set out among the floor. Most of them were filled by patrons eating and having fellowship. A bar was at the far end of the main room. The ranger silently strode over to it. A dwarf was sitting upon a stool. He wore silver chainmail and had red hair and a long red beard. A rather large double bladed battle-ax was strapped to his back. He was Stocky and short in build. He was ordering from the bartender. "Oy! Another ale please kind sir!" his voice was rough with a heavy Scottish accent. The bartender set down a large mug of ale in front of him and the dwarf immediately began drinking it. A grin hidden by his hood spread across the rangers lips. In one fluid motion he reached over the dwarfs shoulder snatching the mug from his hand. The dwarf spun around. "Oy! What do ye think yer!...." he stopped mid sentence and widened his eyes. "Salrion! It is really ye friend?!" The ranger nodded handing the mug back to him. He sat down next to the dwarf. "Aye Roderick it is me." They looked at each other and clasped forearms. They each knew it was the equavelent to a hug. "Three long years Salrion. It's good to see ye again." Salrion smiled. "You as well Roderick." Salrion pulled his hood down revealing his dark brown hair and pointy elven ears. His face was handsome and looked to be in his early twenties. Roderick looked at him eagerly. "So did the attack go well?" Salrion nodded. "Aye it did. We recovered the first orb. We lost many men but eventually the battle turned to our favor." Salrion looked at the ground reverently remembering the soldiers who died. He looked back up at Roderick. "Ye say ye have the orb?" Salrion nodded. "May I see it?" Salrion withdrew a small, large marble sized red orb from his pouch. It was warm to the touch. He handed it to Roderick. "Amazing!" Roderick inspected it before handing it back to Salrion. "I sort of expected it to be bigger." Salrion nodded returning it to his pouch. "As did I."