One Last Knight. A Series of Short Stories.

Hello all, and welcome back to Enverdolmal!

This year is getting closer and closer to being done. That blows my mind.

You all have helped make this an amazing year for me in some ways you know?

These short stories and the World of Enverdolmal have been very therapeutic for me. 

You all supporting me by just reading these stories has been a very big part of that as well.

One Last Knight just passed 7.4K Readers!

I can't thank you all enough. 

This helps me stay a bit more sane, having a world that I can create for you all does a lot for me. 

More than you all can imagine. But enough about me and my sappy crap lol.

I love you all dearly. I do.

I hope you are all doing well, and are warm (or cool) and healthy wherever you are. 

Here we are again, at the gates to this brave new world. I hope you all enjoy this new installment!

I present to you: In the arms of a Ranger. Part 1. 

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-10 years earlier.-

Pomilio was many things.

At the very top of that list sat a single word: patient.

Dwarfs needed for very little typically.

A single filling meal every two to three days.

A liquid pound of water per week. 

A trio-days sleep in a tenday.

They -of all species of Humanoids in Enverdolmal- were the hardiest. 

So to take that specific species of Humanoid, and combine it with one of the toughest, most well trained classed in existence would make for a good idea one would think. 

And oh, how one would be correct. 

Our friend Pomilio -Pom as he would often go as- was one exceptionally trained and deeply experienced Ranger. 

And he was not just any Ranger, no.

He was a part of the esteemed R.L.R.C. 

The Razor Leaf Ranger Company. 

The Dwarven Clan Razorleaf was a relatively new one, a "Young Clan" as Dwarven standards go. Their ancestry was but 1000 years old in comparison to their Brother-Clan, Clan Oakenmaul, who had been around for nearly 4000 years of existence. 

But they were no less formidable for their perceived "youth" and every bit as reputable. 

Today Pomilio would demonstrate just that.

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Stoksted.

"The City of Sticks" as most in Enverdolmal would call it, was more-so a rather large dorpie than a "city" 

The sprawling village was populated by a rather awe-inspiring mixture of Human and Humanoid folk. Even more amazing was how well and blended that mixture was. Historically, Elves and Dwarfs were not one for another. Yet in Stoksted such existed side-by-side and in harmony. 

Beyond these two, were Humans, Tinker-kin, Elfym, and Dwarfym.

All as one, and all in peace. 

A strange and rare occurrence outside of places such as Garth Verlore far to its North and West, and large trade cities like Sout and Bant much further to its South. Stoksted was two things that made it nearly invaluable to the Naeri Queendom:

Firstly, a lumber town of great efficiency just as Netsud to its West, and secondly, a boarder town of immense strategic value. Naeri and its Southern neighbor Zentram had been in a love\hate relationship for just about as long as they both had existed. Each needed the other for some reason or another, and each was also allied to their mutual neighbor in Noordania. 

So lets just say, between the three of them it would probably more accurate to say that their was more of a love\hate\love relationship... A rather tenuous and often situational partnership. 

There always seemed to be a set and expected amount of tension in the air between the three, as none could really ever FULLY agree with either of the others. Nor did it help that Noordania tended to side with whichever side was not the aggressor in any given instance of strife or confliction between Naeri and Zentram. This fact often lead to even more political unrest. 

Such was the state of things this day, as we find ourselves several miles outside of the Southern gate of Stoksted, on a little-used trail at the edge of a canopy-darkened forest known as Twixsticks Wood. 

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Leena sat on the rear bench of the wagon as it slugged along through the thick and sticky mud.

The pair of Oxen pulling the cart snorted passively, flicking their tales at the flies that badgered them in the midday heat. 

Her mother and father sat at the head, driving the cart in turn as the sun began to break through the thick, grey storm clouds, peppering the moist land with beams of brilliant light. Her father stood, handing the reigns to his wife, and began to lower the collapsible canopy that topped their cart. The day had been a good one. Wet with the long and soggy rains, but good nonetheless. With some luck, for Leena and her family, it would be a good night as well. 

The Twixsticks Wood wasn't particularly dangerous, yet wit the rain season came change. And with that change, came strange and familiar dangers. 

Dangers that Leena's group had done well to avoid up until this point. 

Their caravan consisted of five wheeled-units in total.

While this group was not very large, it was transporting treated wood, making it that much more valuable of a target for thieves and rouges, thus in its company road a Sentry detail of ten strong and capable Sell-Swords. These Sell-Swords were a motley mixture of peoples just as those that they traveled with and protected. One and all either hailed from or grew up in the close-nit community that is Stoksted. One and all would gladly die for one and all, such was their loyalty. 

Unfortunately for them, with the night would come a very real and palpable test of that loyalty.

Each of the carts was pulled by 2 oxen, and accompanied by a lead horse on which road an armed Sell-sword. With each lead horse was a side-rider, a second horsemen who was just as armed as the lead. With two riders per cart, the wood was more than safe as such a show of force would be enough to keep most smaller bands of Thieves or Rouges at bay. Such a show of force was typically enough to keep most beast and monsters at bay as well.

With the wood rode several Wood Workers and Leena's family. Though they were not Fighters, they were one and all strong of arm and back, and knew well how to handle the business end of a cutting axe. 

It had been a good day.

Wet with the long and soggy rain, yet good nonetheless. 

As the line of wagons made its way through the damp and dreary wood, the sight of the seemingly never-ending tree line began to lure Leena to sleep. 

The wheels of the cart had slipped into the grooves in the mud that the one ahead of them had carved. 

The ride became a bit less rocky.

A bit less bumpy.

And before she knew it, Leena was fast asleep.

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Pomilio knelt in the mud off to the side of the trail.

The caravan from Stoksted had passed this point less than an hour ago, but more than a half. 

Their track lines were beginning t o fill with water as the rain returned, light this time, yet still a real presence. 

The Ranger caught a noise of to his right, a bit closer than he would have liked. 

He kicked off from his crouched position silently and quickly rose into the air, his left hand shooting up to latch tightly onto one of the branches of the tree that was to his left. 

In mid-air he had focused a bit of his Aether and set his invisibility spell into motion.

By the time he was hanging from the branch, he was all but nonexistent to the naked, non enhanced, or untrained eye. 

Human or otherwise. 

Six feet below him and just a few feet from where he has just been stood a short, ugly, brown and spindly thing. 

No more than three feet in height, the monsters limbs looked in every conceivable way like thin and withered tree branches. 

It's "fingers and toes" were but three each, for a total of twelve wicked looking digits. 

It's head was nearly black so dark it was, and very akin to some sort of beetle. 

Two sets of sharp, angular mandibles clicked hungrily as the monster slowly swung it's head from left to right on it's twig-like neck, tasting the air.

"Twiglobs..."

Pomilio huffed mentally to himself as he used his free right arm to reach around to his lower-back, unclip his trusty 8-shot tinker-tech crossbow, and slowly take aim at the things head.

He pulled the trigger.

There was a soft click, as an almost inaudible pop sounded. 

SSSWIP!

The 8-inch bolt left the barrel faster than the average eye could track.

Silently, the bolt flew through the air, closing the gap in a split second. 

Just as the Twiglob's head swung back to the left, the bolt slammed into it's mouth and jutted awkwardly out of the back of its skull at a downward angle. Without a sound, the bug-like creature collapsed in a tight little heap, it's arms and legs now clasped tightly to it's corps. 

Pomilio clipped his weapon back into its place and using his now free right hand just as his left, he arched his back, swinging himself back once, then forward. Kicking off, he flew through the air and landed softly next to the dead Twiglob, the damp forest floor aiding in padding his nearly perfect landing. 

In death, Twiglobs nearly instantly became extremely brittle. Rangers and all forms of Scientist have theorized that this is caused by the "Rapid evacuation of Aether." from the monsters system upon their demise. They and they alone did this. It was truly a strange phenomenon, as their entire body seemed to just flake away to nothing but dust. 

Pomilio didn't mind this as much as the Scientist who desperately wanted to be able to dissect and further study the species postmortem. The fact only made it that much easier for him to retrieve his bolts when he had to hunt down a roaming pack of the things.

It seemed that tonight would be one of those nights.

Kneeling next to the monster, Pomilio grasped the end of his bolt and tugged slightly. The sudden motion caused the dead thing to crumble in on itself. The sight used to make his stomach uneasy, but after seeing such a thing well over a thousand times, one tends to desensitize. He daftly tapped the bolt against his boot to shack loose what remained of the bug dust, and slipped it into one of his many, many, strategically placed pockets. He would need it and many more that night. 

Suddenly from his peripheral came a burst of motion. 

Reflexively Pomilio fell backwards and into a controlled roll.

His right hand flying to the handle of his sword that which was strapped to his left hip.

The Razor Leaf Ranger Company was famous for one thing above all else: Their Swordsmanship. 

The only thing that was more famous by comparison, more renowned than their mastery of the blade, was their choice of sword type. 

And what type of bladed weapon does a Razor Leaf utilize you ask?

Theirs was the long lost, curved sword known as the Katana. 

Pomilio came up and to his feet with his long, deadly blade drawn and before him. Before he could set himself properly for the fight, the Twiglob lashed out. With a daft flick of his wrist, the vile things arm fell away at the elbow, it spun through the air past Pomilio's face. The monster opened it's mouth to screech but Pomilio spun swiftly to his right in a complete circle and came around with a clean and precise slice, taking the creatures head from atop it's neck. 

Before he could admire his work, and before the displaced head hit the ground, a second and third Twiglob were upon him. 

Backpedaling, Pomilio found himself on the defence. He blocked several wild swings from the first before ducking under a third poorly-aimed swipe from the second which came at him from his left flank. The pair came on in a fury, driven mad by the death of their spindly brethren, and the pheromone that the dead body had released into the air. With a bit of effort and a huff, Pomilio let his duck carry him forward, he planted his left food and forced his shoulder into a powerful blow that blasted the first creature in its stomach.

It flew backwards and temporarily out of the fight. 

The second Twiglob leapt, attempting to latch itself onto the Dwarfs exposed back.

Before it could react to reconsider, Pomilio kicked off with his right foot and spun several times in mid-air while simultaneously letting loose a flurry of slices. 

He landed on smoothly on his left knee and flicked the blade of his sword off to his right side.

Green blood splattered against several trees as pieces of the Twiglob's body showered the area.

A bit messier than Pomilio would have liked, but work was work. 

The first was back to its feet, but seeing what was left of its kin seemed to take what anger it had left out of its mind, and it was very suddenly replaced with fear. 

It turned to run.

Pomilio deftly slipped his sword back into its sheath and in the same motion, drew his crossbow once again, this time, in his left hand.

It didn't matter.

A bolt found the back of the Twiglobs head as it took its third step.

The impact with the ground before it made it dissipate into flakes of bug dust.

Glancing around to make sure the coast was truly clear this time, the weary Dwarf relaxed his body and his pull on his Aether pool, dropping his invisibility spell as well. 

He froze.

What little color there was to his already-chalky Dwarven face fell away as the realization hit him: 

The Twiglob's had seen him. They had seen through his cloak... 

How?

A strange feeling fell over him for just a second as he realized something else...

That feeling was fear. 

The realization? The things had managed to catch him unawares both times. 

He didn't like this at all. 

Twiglobs were one of the lesser monsters. 

While it was true that they were agile, faster than the average human, and even a bit stronger.

Magically inclined was one thing that they were not. Something or someone had enchanted this group. But why? For what cause?

Pomilio would see to it that he found out. He was a Ranger after all. 

He was a Razor Leaf.

Such was not only his job, but his very nature.

In this forest, and in all else that which were his home, he would tolerate nothing outside of the natural order. Drawing on a bit more of his Aether, Pomilio cast a low-magic haste spell upon himself. He needed to catch up to that caravan much sooner than later...

It would be one hell of a fight.

It would be one hell of a night. 

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Leena was awaken suddenly and in a rather rude manner. 

Something or someone had thumped her on her head. Pretty hard at that.

And with that came again the rain, warm and without warning.

The impact had obviously been enough to jar her awake, but being wet made it that much worse.

She shook her head and went to sit up and protest.

A split-second later her fathers screams shook the sleep from her fully.

Her eyes flew open.

She looked at her father. 

He had dropped the reigns of the wagon and his hands were on the shoulders of his wife.

Her mother.

Her mother had no head.

Blood gushed from the stump where her mothers head had been.

This wasn't rain at all...

Leena's young mind did not, could not possibly understand what she was seeing.

A tiny realization hit her as her eyes slowly followed the blood trail down her bother body and to the floor of the wagon.

The object that had struck her but moments ago...

The screams of her father faded away.

The world seemed to slow.

She stared blankly and numbly at her own mother's head.

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Hey all, thank you again for so much love and loyalty. 

I can't believe that you all enjoy these stories so much. It makes my heart happy that I can provide something of value to the world and your life. In whatever small way it be. 

I hope that in these wild, weird, and even dangerous times, all of you are as safe as you can possibly be. Wherevers you are. 

I hope that Leena and Pomilio grow on you all as much as they have grown on me. I know I have a rather large cast of character, but I give you my word, all of their tales will be told and completed!

More Character Dives to come soon, and Many more World Lore parts!

I love you all. Really really.

Stay tuned! It only gets better. 

Stay safe.

 Stay healthy.

 Stay vigilant.

I will see you all back here soon!

My word!

-Redd.