The young Elf knelt down before the Altar, legs crossed and arms atop his knees with a poise that bespoke honor and respect. Two small candles framed the small shrine, illuminating Calanon's visage and trailing wisps of smoke twirling into the cooling air of the night. 

He breathed in...and out. His keen senses raising to new heights as he focused upon his meditation before the small shrine that represented his Gods of the forest. For near an hour he had sat there, his truest friend and steed behind him, idly chewing on thick tufts of grass while he remained in his reverie. 

He found he had to do this more often than not these days, ever since he had been tainted by the artifact of the Dorcha. He could feel his anger and hatred lessening, and therefore the pressure upon his arm was lessened as well. He truly needed the recent guidance as well, for he had received a mysterious letter not a day ago about a retrieval quest he was to perform if he so chose. 

He would not say no without giving it due attention, and in truth he needed something to occupy him. He had spent too long chasing Orcs in the underbrush of the woods the past few tendays. The forest was his calling, but he longed for new places to go and faces to see. Brogach, his Elk, was of similar mind it seemed. For as he thought of such things, he could hear a snort in the background. A calm, small smile spread across his face. He turned to Brogach, his thick hair swaying. It was of a reddish brown hue, only darker than one would expect, oftentimes mistaken for true chocolate brown. 

It seemed the Gods had spoken to him through his companion, and he felt that there was no better way to bring a message across. "Ready, my friend?" he asked. The Elk perked his great head up, staring at Calanon alertly before striding over to him, touching their noses together in a sign of friendship. Calanon smiled brightly and patted his friend's mane. "Let's go."

The two moved in unison, and the fit, nimble ranger leaped upon his steed's back, and they galloped forward. The trees before them were no obstacle at all for they, as the two had traversed thick forest paths for many years. They were only two days from the small village of Caldavail, and would be out of the forest thickets by morning tomorrow if they kept the pace steady.