Prelude:

Lightning peeled open the sky and thunder boomed across the hellish landscape. Flames from the desperate push of armies lit the night sky as smoke billowed in green and red hues. The warrior, sword and shield raised, blocked the attacks of a dozen or more iron blades that reigned down upon her. The flash of a flaming blue blade eliminated half of the orcish arms that wielded them. Side to side the elves fought as one.

I don't remember the last time I had been in the cups.  I've never been much of a drinker, but these past few nights. My little boy kidnapped, Radcylfe off in the Lone-lands, I suppose this is what happens when you love a Ranger of the North. They are a wandering folk, I seem to have the habit of loving the strays, the vagabonds, the unfortunate. If I was maybe a little more selfish, perhaps I would be able to fool around with more than one.  But no, no, ever since Carden died. Things have spiraled downhill.

Lusseriel was sitting against a tree, near the village of Llanuch. The sun was slowly setting, and she was enjoying the brisk air and light wind. She had no plan whatsoever to enter Llanuch before it became necessary.

Once the sun was set, she turned her attention back to the journal on her laps and started to write :

And by the gods did my jaw shatter 

Not from the force of your bloody knuckles meeting it

But more from the things I did that drove you to do so

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