Elfhunter is the first of the tales of Alterra, the World that Is. It concerns the quest of an unlikely pair of heroines, Gaelen and Nelwyn, who are Wood-elves of the Greatwood Forest. They are hunter-scouts in the realm of King Ri-Aruin, and they have sworn to protect their woodland home, but they are drawn into a quest to defend all the Elves of Alterra as they seek to destroy the ‘Elfhunter’, a monstrous entity intent on exterminating the Elves until none remain. Along the way, Gaelen and Nelwyn are joined by other interesting characters as they make their way through the realms of Alterra in pursuit of the Elfhunter, whose true name is ‘Gorgon’. What headstrong Gaelen and her gentle cousin do not know is that Gorgon is in league with the Dark Power, and that the forces of Evil have forged an entanglement between Gorgon and Gaelen herself. Now she and all she loves are in jeopardy, and only an inspired plan put forth by Orogond, a mortal man, can save her.
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About the author: C.S. Marks lives in the Midwest, where she is a professor at a small liberal arts college. An avid horsewoman, she makes her home in the midst of a large forest, together with her husband Jeff, an assortment of dogs and cats, and her five horses; Ramon, Manly, Angel, Red and Marton.
The darkness came early in midwinter, especially in the Greatwood Realm. The forest was never a bright place, even in the height of summer, as the trees were then in full leaf. What little sunlight penetrated the canopy was mostly filtered out ‘ere it could reach the forest floor; the overall effect was of a cool, dark haven shot with green and gold. In winter, more light could reach the lower levels, but it was a cold light, thin and grey. In the ever-present mists of winter, a traveler who ventured into the depths of the forest unprepared might find himself lost, chilled to death in the long dark. Fire, in this realm, was life.
The wind was picking up, and it looked as though it might start snowing at any minute as Gaelen gathered dead wood for the fire that she would soon need. She was glad to have been sent out into the deep woods, for she longed to escape the captivity of formal dwellings. As with most of her kind, Gaelen was most content among the trees, for she was a Wood-elf, and had dedicated herself to the guardianship of her forest home.
The Greatwood had once been an entirely fair and welcoming haven, and Elves had lived there for many thousands of years, yet now the lands were changing and had become ever more perilous. The boundaries of the Elvenhold had been pushed back before a dark shadow that was spreading ever northward from the southlands, and there was no longer any doubt that Wrothgar, the Lord of Darkness, had made his home there. Nothing of beauty would remain in any lands that his evil had touched, and the only things that lived within his influence were twisted and misbegotten.
The bright lands of the Elves fell back before a fetid, evil-smelling bog that surrounded Wrothgar’s new stronghold; all the trees had perished and now stood in silent testimony, bare and twisted, dead and forlorn. The bog had been growing in size for the past five hundred years, and now was making its way up the clear, bright waterways that flowed into it from the north.
There was said to be a fortress rising from the center of the bog, crowned by a tall tower known as the Tûr Dorcha, but none of Gaelen’s people would venture within sight of it. Gaelen, who was possessed of an unfortunate curiosity, had once approached the dark fens with her cousin Nelwyn, and both had nearly been overcome. They had not come near the Dark Stronghold, for to do so would have taken their lives.
Wrothgar had wrought his evil upon the lands and peoples of the world since before the recording of lore began. None truly knew how or when he came to the shores of Alterra, but it was said that he had been driven there, cast down from the realm of heaven by the Creator, whose name is Aontar, the One Lord of All. Many disagreed with this notion, proclaiming that Wrothgar had no connection with the divine, and was but a powerful, evil sorcerer, perhaps akin to the Asari, the magic users of Alterra. Others maintained that he was a powerful demon, born of evil. Such debate is beyond the scope of these writings, but there was no doubt of Wrothgar’s evil, of his power, or of his great age. Not even the most venerable of the Elves could recall a time when he had not troubled the world.