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An arrow sped past the walking man�s ear and sunk into the path in front of him. Kuma�s hand grabbed the hilt protruding over his right shoulder and turned, drawing half of his massive blade before stopped by a voice like water running over silver bells.

�If you draw that sword in this forest, I swear by The First that your blood will feed the trees.�

Kuma looked around the path, neither speaking nor removing his hand from his sword, searching for the owner of the voice. Another arrow sprang from the trees, again from behind, and grazed the painted man�s calf. As blood began to ooze from the shallow wound, the voice spoke again, the silver turned to edged steel in the owner�s impatience.

�Sheathe your weapon, fool. The next is aimed for your heart.�

The human slowly slid his blade back into the scabbard on his back, crossing his arms and being careful to not let his anger show. �Who are you? Why are you doing this?�

He heard a rustle of leaves and a slight thump behind him as whoever it was leapt from a tree onto the path. Footsteps almost too light to be heard underscored the voice�s next statements.

�Who I am is of no concern to you, like who you are is of no concern to me. Man is not welcome in Eryn Hiril. I would kill you for trespassing, but, by the sight of you, you are a lone wanderer. No one knows where you are from, or where you were going. It would solve little to kill you.�

The feeling of a sharp point prodding the small of Kuma�s back made the voice�s last words all but meaningless. �If I had known that I was not welcome here, I would have followed a different path. If you release me without harm, I promise not to return nor to bare you ill will.�

The voice�s laugh was both musical and cruel, as the point was removed from Kuma�s back and the creature walked around him. Finally able to get a look at his tormenter, Kuma was taken aback by the beauty and elegance in the fey�s form. No taller than the barbarian�s chest, the elven lad had the suppleness of a willow�s boughs in his limbs and walked with a grace that put to shame that of even the most attractive of women in the nomad�s former tribe. The dagger in the elf�s hand glinted like moonlight taken deadly form, while the bow slung over his shoulder seemed to hold the power of the most ancient of trees in its fragile body. �No�my friend, you are going to be an experiment in a new form of justice.�

Kuma stiffened, his arms dropping to his sides. �I am sorry, my lord. I won�t let you do that to me.�

The elf laughed again, long and hard, but the mirth didn�t seem to reach his coldly gleaming eyes. �You stupid human, how could you stoOOF!� The breath was forced out of elvish lungs as Kuma simultaneously slapped the dagger hand away and punched his tormentor in the stomach. His enemy doubled over, the barbarian clasped his hands together, raised them high over his head, and delivered a powerful hammer blow to the back of the elf�s skull. As the elf dropped, Kuma heard a slight whoosh of wind behind him, followed by the loud crack of a tree branch hitting him in the back of the head. Kuma�s unconscious body fell on top of the elf�s as pain and blackness became his world.

Kuma returned to consciousness a little less than an hour later as a skin of water was emptied on his face. Sputtering, he scurried to his feet, but almost fell again as his aching head robbed him of almost all balance. A moment later, after his senses had finally returned, he realized three things. The first was that he was surrounded by taunting elves. Second, they had his things. The last realization was that he was naked, barefoot, wet, and injured. Infuriated, he charged the closest group of them, roaring like a bear woken early from winter�s sleep. They scattered like pigeons from a hungry cat, each running in a different direction. He centered his attention on one, who was waving Kuma�s stolen tunic like a large green banner, and gave chase. His long legs gave him an advantage over the elf, who more than made up for it by using the natural obstacles of the forest to trip up the enraged human. With water and paint dripping into his eyes, branches and brambles stinging his exposed skin, and the mocking wave of his tunic just out of reach, Kuma�s rage did not leave him for a long while. In fact, long after the taunting of the other elves had left his ears did he chase this one singlemindedly. Finally the elf dodged behind a tree and, when Kuma followed, the human was smacked solidly in the face with a low-hanging branch. The sudden pain brought tears to his eyes as Kuma was knocked soundly into the dirt from his own momentum. By the time he scrambled to his feet, the elf was gone.

Kuma stood and stared into the surrounding forest for a long moment. The elf had led him far from the path and deep into the surrounding woods, and the nomad had been too enraged to pay attention to where he was heading or coming from. He sighed forlornly and headed north.

Three days later, he made it to the edge of Eryn Hiril. He was covered in scratches, and had a nasty wound on his leg he received after blundering past a badger�s den. He had eaten nothing but a small handful each day of berries, leaves, and roots that he recognized as edible. Thankfully, Eryn Hiril contained a stream he had found midway through his second day and followed so he had not died of thirst. In the far distance he saw the smoke of a village�s fires curling towards the skies and started trudging towards it, hoping that they would have mercy upon a stranger. A loud thump from behind him made him jump. Turning, Kuma found a sack with a familiar hilt jutting out the top had been thrown from the trees. His returned equipment and a faint giggling and rustling of leaves was all that marked the elves� passing by. Shouldering the sack, he turned again and resumed his trek towards the nearby village. His wounds would heal in a matter of days, or earlier if he was lucky enough to find a skilled healer. However, his wounded pride would take much longer to be soothed.