[Suzerain of Sheol]

The moon was high in the outland hills. The sound of wolves and prey echoed in the night. Alone, a cloaked figure made their way over the jutting limestone, half walking, half crouching, knee-deep in heather and moss. Calloused, carefull hands felt their way over way-markers on abandoned paths.

Lifting his head, the figure basked in the moonlight. The sky was clear, the moon so vivid, the stars twinkling brightly. Hearing something behind him,his hand strayed to his waist. He cursed himself for the absence of his sword, going for his small hunting knife, instead. Drawing it, he held his hand under his cloak and looked over his shoulder.

A deer. A damp, weather roughed youngling that probably thought of him as another piece of limestone on the hill. With a shuddering sigh, he slid the blade back home, drawing his cloak around him. Creeping forward again, carefully, carefully, he never noticed the quiet figure, soft and pale as the moonlight under a grey cloak.

The figure smiled, and although it wasn't necessarily a hard smile, it....

Yay, first compilation. Good work so far, everyone, let's keep it going. :)