<span style="font-style: italic">The young mind is a fragile thing.  I deal with Death, but some injuries are beyond my expertise heal, however easy they are to create.  Swords and fire can kill a body, but is there anything that can destroy a child more than shackles, sand, and blood.<br/><br/>-Musings on a Whisper</span><br/>_<br/><br/>They had one goal set before them.  It was a damn tree; a tree which an entire race of elves had based their culture around.  Their employer, Mr. Kettle, wanted this tree badly enough to hire a collection of untrustworthy individuals to obtain it for him, regardless of consequences.<br/><br/>Nolevos honestly did not care in the slightest whether Mr. Kettle got his precious tree.  The horticultural desires of a criminal took a very low place on the list of Noleâ€™s priorities.  The possibility of creating a trade agreement with an individual with access to firearms was indeed interesting to Noleâ€™s master, Khaldun, but such a goal was merely secondary in nature.<br/><br/>There was only one reason why Nole was there, riding a horse into a forest filled with cannibalistic elves.<br/><br/>Jack...<br/><br/>Nole appeared young; much younger than he should have appeared for his age.  For the last fourteen years of his life, he had been sheltered from the erosion of time.  It was a gift he had already paid for, tenfold.  It was a gift he would continue to pay for as long as he lived.  It was a gift he had fought to obtain, finally achieving it over the corpses of all those who had failed in the pursuit.  It was a gift with a reason.<br/><br/>Jack, however, had been born with a gift of immortality far more potent than any Nole had ever heard of.  As far as Nole was concerned, Jack had paid no price for this gift.  He had neither worked nor struggled to achieve it.  There had been no competition to edge out in the pursuit of eternal life; no trials to overcome.  This was only made worse by Jackâ€™s lack of respect for the power.  It seemingly meant nothing to Jack, a fact which meant everything to Nole.<br/><br/>In the eyes of Khaldun, this inherited gift warranted suspicion, as the immortals do not share their longevity on a whim.  This suspicion was only further reinforced when the individual in question bore the name of Jenkins.  The Old Man in Brown had not been seen since Nole was a child, yet was still hunted after.<br/><br/>In the eyes of Nolevos, however, all Jack warranted was hatred.  Nole needed no suspicion.  Suspicion was a tool for those who felt the need to justify their actions, to sleep easy at night.  Nole needed no help falling asleep at night.  As it was, he already slept quite well.<br/><br/>Even Jack, however, could not ruin Noleâ€™s mood at that moment.<br/><br/>Nole quietly and happily whistled to himself as his horse trotted forward, passing tree after tree.  He did not recognize the tune, but seemed to know all the notes regardless.  Perhaps he had heard it somewhere before, when it had lodged itself deep inside his mind.<br/><br/>Forests were not quite as fun as cities, but for Nole, they were the next best thing.  People often made the mistake of seeing the two environments as being opposite to each other, but Nole felt it was more of a mirror image; different and yet surprisingly equal.  Both, in contrast to grasslands, plains, and deserts, had some degree of layering.  Also, like cities, forests teemed with life.  Contrary to the opinions of many small minded individuals Nole had the pleasure of meeting, Nole quite enjoyed the presence of life; lots and lots of life.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Without the presence of life, you would need some new hobbies...</span><br/><br/>That was quite true, Nole acknowledged, as he took a bite out of the dried meat he had removed from his saddlebags.<br/><br/>His horse was new, along with most of his supplies.  He had spent what little remained of his money paying to replace all that Jack had lost him with the still unexplained and uncompensated disappearance of Noleâ€™s horse.  What he couldnâ€™t buy, he stole.  After all, it was for a noble cause.<br/><br/>Looking over at the abomination, he saw that Jack was struggling ever so slightly in keeping his own horse from wandering off the path.  To be fair to the walking and talking affront on nature, this difficulty was not really Jackâ€™s fault.  Nole had â€œgraciously purchasedâ€ a steed for his travelling companion.  The horse merchant seemed to have a selection of some of the finest members of the equine family available.  With some careful scrutiny, however, Nole had managed to find one undisciplined enough to give to Jack.  With any luck, the beast would be spooked by some errant forest critter and take its passenger at full speed under a low hanging branch.<br/><br/>His smile widening at the thought, he gave a friendly nod to Jack and tossed the living refuse one of the pieces of jerky.<br/><br/>They had reached the edge of the forest that morning.  Nole did not quite remember how long they had been travelling.  It was odd.  In some ways it felt as though they had only just left Gotahaab, and yet the events of that night were so distant in Noleâ€™s mind.  He truly had no idea how many days the journey had taken them.<br/><br/>The forest had begun gradually, slowly changing the surrounding countryside as they progressed onwards.  The first signs were the occasional younger trees, sentinels against the encroachment of civilization.  Sure enough, the sporadic plant life soon gave way to larger and denser groupings of taller and older trees.<br/><br/>The road from Gotahaab had led them away from the city into the surrounding countryside.  The stone path had turned to dirt, narrowing into a winding path.  The width was just enough to allow the grey bulk of Povundra as they progressed onward.  The creature pushed its way past the occasional branch that reached down in front of it, with the sound of splintering and cracking wood.<br/><br/>Slowly, a village materialized out from the woods.  The buildings had long since succumbed to nature.  Roots had slithered their way into the foundations.  Vines had crawled up the walls, slowly tearing them down over what Nole could only assume to be a lifetimeâ€™s worth of years.<br/><br/>The town was a graveyard of human civilization.  This was one location where the forest had won.<br/><br/>For some reason, however, the ground in the centre of the village was devoid of life.  Even small grasses and weeds had not staked a claim on this dirt.<br/><br/>Dismounting from his horse, Nole approached one of the more intact structures remaining.  To say it was an unimpressive sight might have given the impression that it once had actually been impressive to begin with, before the forest had taken the building back.  This, however, was not the case.  It had once been a small one room hovel.  Now it was a small one room hovel covered in plants, its windows shrouded by vines and the wood of its door rotting away.<br/><br/>Nole walked up to the entrance and tried to open it.  Considering that it was still in place indicated it must have been treated to hold off the weathering of nature.  The wood, however, had been warped and resisted Noleâ€™s attempt at opening it.  A swift kick stove the weakening material in and Nole vanished into the shadows inside.<br/><br/>After a long moment, an armful of bones tumbled out of the door onto the ground outside.  Nole followed soon thereafter, carrying another small pile with him, which he unceremoniously deposited onto the first.  With a sigh, he picked up one of the pale lengths, a fibula, and casually began to use it to sort through the others.<br/><br/>A good number were unaccounted for, most likely having been dragged off long ago by scavengers.  There had been at least two bodies, according to the fact that there were two skulls.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">You are clearly a master at this!  Have you also determined whether or not they are dead?</span><br/><br/>Nole ignored the sarcasm and continued his investigation.<br/><br/>Lifting up one of the bones for the others to see, he ran his fingers along small notches that marked its length.  They were too uniform and evenly spaced to have been made by scavengers or be the result of battle.  Something had been quite methodical in cutting the meat off of these people.<br/><br/>â€œWhat has Mr. Kettle sent us into?â€<br/><br/>Nole couldnâ€™t help but feel a little pleased.  This forest looked to provide plenty of excitement.<br/><br/>As if on cue, a flurry of motion rippled amongst the trees and ruins surrounding them.  A number of arrows darted out into the clearing, thudding harmlessly, yet threateningly, into the barren ground.  The fact that not a single arrow tasted blood, missing event the massive girth of an elephant, was a testament that this display was merely that; a display.<br/><br/>The figures that moved out from the trees and ruined walls were humanoid, but not human.<br/><br/>Their slender appearances were due to a lack of fat, not from any lack of muscle.  Nole had been told this was a race of hunters and had little trouble believing that fact.  Each one had the sleek appearance of a predator.  Their faces, particularly strong around the mouth and jaw, only further reinforced such a comparison.  Nole kind of felt comforted by that fact.  Predatory species made for much better sport.  Perhaps the quest for a tree would provide him with more entertainment then he originally had expected.<br/><br/>Their clothing was made of hide, and the grips of their weapons were crafted from bone.  Normally such traits were indicative of primitive cultures, but Nole saw nothing primitive about these elves.  Regardless of the materials used, everything these elves bore seemed to be of excellent quality.  The blades, in particular, appeared to be made from a superb grade of steel, expertly crafted.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">They look sharp...</span><br/><br/>Nole dismissed the concern expressed by his shadow.  He had seen sharper.  Hell, he had sharper sheathed under his belt on his left side.<br/><br/>The elves said nothing to the humans entering into their lands.  For a long moment, nothing happened.  The eyes of the non-humans remained fixed on the interlopers in their lands.  A few glared dangerous expressions in the direction of the party.  Povundra, in particular, held the gaze of a good number of elves.  Nole slowly lowered his scarred right hand towards the hilt of his blade, half wishing to get a chance to test these creatures, but a beckoning motion from the apparent leader amongst the elves stilled this preparatory action.  This elf, a slight deal larger than the others, then turned and vanished into the trees.<br/><br/>It seemed as though they were required to follow.<br/><br/>Nole stayed dismounted and led his horse down the path taken by the elf.  As he did, an unfamiliar tune sprung into his head.  He did not know where he had heard it before, but regardless, he knew every note.  He pursed his lips together and began to whistle softly.