Chapter 1

The cool morning breeze blew through Greenwood the Great as Middle Earth woke up to the red rising sun billowing over the hills. The white marble palace of the royal elven family of Greenwood filled with the sun's golden rays, moving over every crack and crevice. The young prince Thranduil tossed and turned, shielding his blue-gray elven eyes from the bright rays of light. "I'm up, I'm up. Today is my parent's anniversary. Must prepare for the feast." Thranduil thought to himself as he climbed out of bed. This day being his parent's 100th anniversary, he must go hunting for the main course of the meal. Thranduil pulled on his ice-blue tunic over his well-developed body. He threw on his leather overcoat, along with his quiver full of arrows, ivory-handled hunting knife, and finally, most important of all, his hand-crafted long bow.

"Good Morning, Young Thranduil, Nice to see you so early in the Morn." Thranduil was greeted by one of the stablekeepers, Desrion, who was tending to the horses. "Nice to see you, Desrion. I am going hunting today for the feast. Please bring me my horse, Cartho. I must be quick to catch the great ones." Thranduil smiled and patted Desrion on the back. He was a good hand in such a big palace.

Before Thranduil knew it, he was riding to the outskirts of the great forest, on a riding path shown to him as a boy by his father, Calfenion, the King of Greenwood the Great. At the edge of the forest, which led into the great golden plains near Esgaroth, he dismounted his horse and tied him to a tree. As good as the forest was, evil still lurked in certain places. Orcs, the tortured form of elves, roamed places here and there, it was good to be on alert for such things. Thranduil walked into the high grass, immediately spotting a deer with his keen elf eyes. He crept towards the deer slowly, knowing that even the slightest noise could spook it. But before he could even draw an arrow to his bow, the deer ran off quickly. Thranduil heard the noise that had spooked his game, soft pattering of feet upon ground, only a sound an elf could hear. Thranduil was prepared for any danger of any kind. He had fought off the beasts of the plains and of the forest, he could handle this just as well. In a somewhat fluid like motion, Thranduil drew an arrow from his quiver and set it to his bow. Thranduil crouched low to the ground. He could see a thin figure drawing near...