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The wind violently whipped and beat Varthlokkur as he trudged through snow of Hiristang Forest. Darkness was draqed across the forest, obscuring his vision, and the wind his blurring his hearing, but the Dark Elf knew the snowy woodland like the back of his hand. His crimson eyes soon spotted his dwelling, a large wooden cabin that rose out of the snow drifts, a beacon of relief after a long day of hunting. The thick windows glowed faintly, signaling to Varth that warmth and a good meal were soon to be obtained.
The Dumner finally made it to the threshold, and pushed open the heavy oak door, revealing a brightly lit interior, filled with the scent of spices and cooking foods. Varth quickly scurried in, and closed to the door behind him, careful not to drag any snow into the house. The snow gale ended abruptly as the door clanked shut.
“Nice to see you back early” said a feminine voice as Varth was removing his cloth hood and travel cloak, tossing them by the fire so they could dry, along with his bow.
The Dark Elf turned to face his wife, Inevera. She was beautiful, even after twenty-some years of marriage, her visage still sent his heart reeling. “Sorry I took so long, but I got a little extra this time” explained Varth as he placed his hunting bag full of venison on the table.
Inevera smirked, a gesture that was angelic in its own right. “I’d rather have my husband home safe and sound than extra venison.” Her voice was like precious nectar that Varth drank greedily, even though he was being scolded.
“I’m sorry, my love. I will stay in the house until I starve to death” joked Varth, hoping that his wife would remain jovial.
Much to Varthlokkur’s relief, she smiled. Her smile was not only gorgeous, but it meant she was happy, and making Inevera happy was what he lived for. “You’d starve with me, at least” teased Inevera as she drew closer to him. Her scent was intoxicating.
“Anything for you” said Varth as he pulled her close. He was about to kiss her when his ears picked up something outside. Quiet at first, but it grew increasingly louder. Shouting.
Varth pulled away from his wife, and strode to the window. He couldn’t see much through the falling snow except a vibrant glow in the forest. It was drawing nearer, and soon, he spotted several figures, over a dozen of them. The Dumner’s stomach churned fearing the worst. Reavers? Bandits? Savages? He did not know for sure, but he did know they were headed towards his home.
“What is it?” asked Inevera, panic tight in her voice.
“Nothing good” said Varth, reaching to his shortsword that was still on his belt. The steel blade had served him well over the years; its leather wrapped handle was faded distorted due to constant use. “Stay inside, I’ll deal with this.”