Faeranduhl dropped down from atop of the tree and rushed to where he sensed the sudden appearance of lifeforce. Under the dimming moonlight, his eyes glowed white from the lifeforce he was constantly injecting. Now that the wooden necklace was not restricting his lifeforce and mana, he could sense anyone or something from a great distance.
Faeranduhl twisted the knot of his sword and readied them as he approached Roldan. It was Roldan, he was sure, that silvery emission of light coming from a dense forest, and his voice. It was him.
As soon as he arrived at the scene, where trees and rocks scattered, bushes of what seemed to be berries, and grasses some still as high as Roldan himself, Roldan broke what seemed to be shadows like chains coiling his body. Beyond him were silvery eyes glowing behind shadows and trees.
"Dark-elves," he whispered and jumped into action as soon as one of them vanished and appeared behind Roldan.
