Far back, around eleven long years ago, our story begins. -- The Middle of Nowhere

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Date Posted: 20:23:02 03/03/02 Sun
Author: Humans, Elves, Nila, Centaurs
Subject: Far back, around eleven long years ago, our story begins.

A young girl, about the age of seven years, lived in Middle-Earth. Her village was often misnamed, forgotten, and lost, for it was deep in the Black Glade, as they called the forest surrounding the place. Great tall trees stretched upwards, their trunks black as coal and the older one's fissures lined in silvery green. The leaves were that same silvery green, smooth and thin, and the trees themselves had no name, for they only grew in that one forest. Massive gnarled roots intertwined on the rough brown ground, making a hazardous ride for either man or domestic beast. Rocks and assorted stone objects jutted out from underneath root and hung from branches, placed aimlessly by some unseen force.

The young girl, her curled red-brown hair clipped short and held back, not by a bow, but by a piece of rein tied in a knot around it, slipped off into the Black Glade. Clothed not in a dress, but a worn brown tunic, she was unafraid as she wandered further into the Glade, and farther away from her home, the village of Tantook. Armed, yes armed, with a small dagger sheathed at her belt, she looked about her with bright eyes, observing all she could, and storing the images into her memory. Silent as a forest creature, clad in tunic, belt, sandals and small cloak, she soon came to a small, swiftly flowing stream. Glancing about her with keen gaze, she kneeled to take a drink. The water ran fresh and cold, coming from the high mountain of Yrahe south of the Black Glade. After quenching her thirst, she sat down on a log, relaxing and looking about her idly. Something had drawn her out here, told her to come, and she had. Now where was it? Getting bored, she flipped a few nearby pebbles into the water... and waited.

A silence descended upon the area quite suddenly, and the girl froze, as wary as any beast in the place. Without a warning or word, three people stepped out from the foliage on the far side of the stream. One was a tall man, dark-haired and powerful looking, a broadsword strapped to his side. The second, the shorter one, was an elf, longbow tied across his back and quiver at his hip. The third was female; a warrior in the flesh, a rapier sheathed at her side and dirk at her back, tall and muscled. The girl did not move or speak, simply stared with wide eyes.

The first man crossed the stream quietly, making nary a loud splash, headed towards the young girl. Scared but not terrified, she didn't run, only stared, one small hand gripping her dagger's hilt. He reached the other side and stopped, only a few feet away from the girl. Kneeling, he spread his arms out and spoke quietly, his voice commanding. "Come with us, young one. We will teach you in the ways of the Raiders." The girl still would not speak, but after a few moments of silence did so.

"Why? Who are you? Why do you want me to go with you? Was it you who called me?" Her voice was shaking slightly, but not high-pitched and squeaking, like most girls her age. The female smiled at the questions, and cut the man off.

"You have potential far beyond what will ever be to be had in your village. Come with us. It was I who called you." She smiled, her blue eyes suddenly friendly and welcoming, and no threat to be had from either rapier or dirk. The elven man nodded his agreement and extended a hand in a beckoning motion.

"I am called Menar. The woman at my side is the Lady Taimia, Demon's Daughter. The man ahead of you is Suttigan," the elf said, his voice quiet, and gestured to each person he named in turn. The woman grimaced at the title of Lady, and gave a quick glare to Menar before smiling at the young girl. The girl herself was confused, but sensed truth in their manners and names and answers. Blinking slowly, she rose and took a few hesitant steps toward the trio. Suttigan smiled broadly and offered her his hand, still kneeled. The girl took it, and he nodded and rose. Without further word, they led the girl away from her home, family, and out of the Black Glade forever.

...Time Passes...

A thwap, a shrill flying sound, and then a firm thud into the target sounded as the girl, now ten, practiced archery. Grinning, she nocked another arrow and pulled back the string again. Drawing the string back to her cheek, she closed one eye, aimed, and... "Sasha! Come on!" The shout blasted the shot and the arrow went wide, barely hitting the corner of the target. Sasha made an angry face, then lowered her bow and spun to yell back, "Alright already! Hold up!" Narrowing one eye and grimacing, she made her annoyed face again and trotted off to fetch her arrows. Dressed in a finely made tunic of browns and greens, a dagger at her side and quiver at her back, and well-made boots of hide, she was much better off here now than she ever was with her own village. She reached the target, a wooden carving of an elk, and plucked her arrows out and tossed them into her quiver, glaring at the fly arrow.

"SASHA!" She jumped at the booming voice of Suttigan and took off running towards the Greenroom Inn, only a few hundred yards off. Moving swiftly, she made it there before either Taimia or Suttigan could gather breath to yell for her again. Taimia lightly bapped her on the head. "You need to time your practices, Sasha." The girl grinned, only a little apologetic, and glanced around at the Raider gathering.

The entire town seemed to be there, milling about and talking in muttered voices. Mostly humans, yet some elves could be seen, even one or two centaurs were cantering about. There were also a good many Nila, the tall bipeds keeping quiet and their grey fur seeming out of place among bright colors. Spears, their usual weapon, not to be seen among them, not even a branch-handled dagger, simply tunic and belt. Clawed hands, broad talon-like feet, and feline fangs would do for defense, though these distant Raiders would not fight here. Sasha found many eyes on her and the other young children, and though human or elven stare was not to be strange, the Nila's steely golden gaze was unnerving. One Raider caught her own eye, for the clumsiness was obvious. A young male centaur, blonde palomino, with a short sword strapped about his waist and seemingly heavy hooves. He was tripping about the place, even over pebbles, and seemed annoyed at his own self.

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