Þetta er sögubrot sem ég er að skrifa, bara æfing í raun þannig gjörið svo vel og kommentið á allt sem ykkur finnst um þetta.
The moonlight was unable to pierce the thick clouds leaving Fe'arick only his dwindling torch to see by. He slowly maneuvered through the mist, every step carefully planned for if he got stuck in the mud he would likely never get out. Too many of his kin had fallen here and he did not care how important his mission was if it was to cost him his life. The flame died and the elf dropped the useless stick in the mud. He heard as the hungry ground swallowed the wood. He stood still momentarily to regain his night-sight and then slowly moved on. Within moments he saw his prey as it were. He slowly drew the string of his bow positioning a poisoned arrow. This was not his favorite style but now he needed every advantage he could muster.
His business this night was one he did not care for. A tenday past he had been commissioned by the elven king, his older brother to discover the identity of a traitor who had tried to assassinate him. Of course he accepted, it was both his duty as a royal captain and tracker but also as family. While conducting his investigation he discovered to his dismay that the hidden face behind the attack was his other brother. He had to bring him to justice and his orders were to take the traitor to the palace dead or alive. He knew he could never kill his brother even though he was foul and rotten to the core. He learned of the meeting in the hovel and decided to act immediately. No one knew he was out here and indeed he knew not what he would do once he confronted his brother.
Out of the swamp stood the two story stone house, not the house one would expect to find an elf in nor even expect in the middle of this area. It stood on a small patch of earth but none the less it still tilted slightly and a few bricks had fallen out from the side which seemed to be even now closing in on the ground. Fe'arick Easily climbed up the cracked wall and quietly entered through a second floor window which was slightly enlarged by a hole in the wall next to it. The room was small and obviously a skirmish had taken place within it. A chair was on the side and in fact another one was lying outside as well. A table was split in two and the highly trained elf could see the scratches on the walls were caused by weapons. The door stood ajar and Fe'arick carefully looked to the next room. On the floor lay a man and a woman, both stabbed and cut multiple times. They had been dead for quite a long time for their blood was dark and dry on the floor.
He slowly passed them and headed down the stairs to the door to the ground floor. He knelt and looked through the overly large keyhole. Luckily he was able to see almost the entire room beyond. His traitorous brother stood there with a gnome and a human. To the eyes of Fe'arick this was indeed a strange sight for his people had no dealings with other races and indeed were hidden from then. The gnome were the obvious multicolored robe of a mage and due to his race most likely an illusionist. Since these men were dealing with his brother he knew they were both formidable in their areas. The other looked uneasy, not by the company but rather he was out of his element. He wore a tunic of nobleman but wore it badly, shifting from foot to foot and adjusting his shoulders a lot. The man walked across the room and tilted slightly to the right. Fe'arick knew this sign from many ex soldiers and veterans. He was used to carrying a heavy sword on his side and now his balance was off, not so much as you would notice without training. He reached the other wall and took a sheathed short sword from a chair and strapping it around him. As he did this Fe'arick decided to act, when at least one of his foes was distracted. His greatest problem would most likely be the gnome. Fe'arick always had problems with students of the art for he did not feel he could trust them. He kicked open the door and let his arrow fly at the gnomes heart. His arrow struck the mage and broke on the wall behind him. The small foe disappeared and reformed a few steps to the right from his mirror image. Fe'arick had been to impulsive and now he would pay for it.