For The Lady's Hand

A party of four gnomes riding strange green wolves quickly made their way through the forest. But instead of using the ground, this group moved through the treetops.

This animal was called leafrider and in the gnome village of Willowtown, it was a very popular mount. First, because it was fairly strong, being able to defend itself. Second, was due to its way of movement. After all, they were capable of traveling on the treetops.

Every gnome knew from a very young age that this Azov Forest was full of dangers, so this discreet way to make a journey was greatly appreciated.

At the front of the group stood Nimble, making an unpleasant face.

He wore a skirt and pants made of reeds and, like the rest of his kin, he had no use for shoes.

"This ain't right, Ted. How could they do this to me? Shouldn't I, Nimble, of the first generation, have a preference on this matter over some brat?"

"Nimble, we are not talking about some random person. This is the chief's eldest son. Just let it go. In fact, when we return, you should immediately go to Lord Douwe and present him with some rare herbs. This is a conflict you cannot win. Now take the lead to make peace and this dangerous strife will be behind us in no time."

The one who spoke was Theodore. He appeared to be of the same age as Nimble and at his waist hanged two wooden swords with strange symbols marked on them, while his clothes were made of some resilient looking leather.

"It doesn't matter if it's Douwe's son. Or at least it shouldn't. I was already healing diseases and killing treants even before he stopped milking his mommy's tities. The merit I accumulated is enough. No? So, Ella should be mine."

Ted sighed and massaged the temples, feeling a slight headache, and then answered.

"Como on, Nimble. Get your priorities straight. It's not too late. There is still time to mend this relationship. Think about it. You can get the position as an elder."

This whole quarrel was about a woman, Ella, some beautiful damsel of the younger generation.

Nimble had fully committed, since his youth, to the study of druidcraft. The result was that, even with mediocre talent, he managed to make something of himself. Now he was one of the foremost candidates for the position of village elder, which recently became available.

But now that he was older and became satisfied with the status he had achieved, what Nimble yarned the most was the possibility of settling down and to start a family.

Unfortunately the woman he desired was infatuated with another and even though he was younger and had yet to prove himself, his father was the village chief, giving the youngster a chance to compete against Nimble for her hand in marriage.

At the back of the group there were two other figures. One was Adan, the sorcerer, who was now in a deep slumber. It was really impressive in a way how this person could sleep in the middle of a heated argument while riding a wolf at thirty meters above the ground.

The other one was Roselyn. For a gnome, she was extremely tall, reaching almost a meter and a half in height. But the most eye-catching thing was this savage aura surrounding her, which was very unique. Leaving the group aside, even on the entirety of Willowtown, there was no one who could emanate this seeping blood lust.

This was the result of her travels. When she was young, Roselyn got lost from the rest of the tribe, during the great migration of the year 29 a.t.a, and wandered off by herself. Eventually, after going through many hardships, she arrived at the Great Steppes, far south of the Anawasi River.

Roselyn lived with the orc tribes for several decades earning their trust. As such, she was the first of her kind to learn how to channel the power of rage, becoming what they call a "berserker".

Those experiences changed her forever and, even after she returned to Azov Forest and found her people once more, Rosalyn was never the same. She could no longer live the kind of peaceful existence most gnomes pursued, having cravings that only the battlefield could soothe.

Even now she was depressed. This journey had promised many dangers and challenges. That's why she volunteered for it in the first place.

Yet, so far, this trip was very uneventful, which worsened her mood.

As for whatever nonsense the two on the front were arguing about, she couldn't bring herself to care.

However, things were about to change.

The druid was the first to notice because of his deep bond with the natural world, but soon Roselyn realized as well, becoming very excited.

She held in her hand a massive hammer dirtied in old coagulated blood and licked her lips in anticipation.

"It's time." She softly said.