Before dawn, a shadow darted through the dark forest, accompanied by the patter of heavy rain on leaves and branches. The figure was lithe and agile, moving with a grace that spoke of years of training and discipline. As she ran, her thoughts raced just as quickly, turning over the events that had led her to this moment.
(Damn, I had to flee so miserably.)
The woman who muttered these words under her breath was no ordinary mortal. Her pointed ears marked her as a member of the elven race, and her lithe, toned body spoke of a lifetime of combat training. She wore skimpy light armor and carried a long sword at her waist, ready for any danger that might cross her path.
