[ WP ] Legends tell of the Elder race who utilized strange `` technologies '' instead of magic . As hordes of brutal killers invade from the north , a young elf heads off to search for ancient ruins , looking for humans ...

`` Who goes there?'' 
 
 `` Dahalva, of the Ederwood.'' 
 
 `` An Elfling, that speaks in human tongues?'' 
 
 `` An Elfling, that speaks in human... tongues.'' 
 
 `` Come forth.'' 
 
 `` You are...'' 
 
 `` A human. Yes, I know, a miracle I am sure.'' 
 
 `` I was told you were all... long gone.'' 
 
 `` If by long gone you mean nearly exterminated by you and your equally disagreeable kin, then yes, we are indeed long gone.'' 
 
 `` I came because...'' 
 
 `` Because you need assistance so that you and your kind are not also snuffed out of existence, correct?'' 
 
 `` Essentially, yes...'' 
 
 `` Why on Earth would I want to do that?'' 
 
 `` Well, I hoped to appeal to your sense of compassion, however, I see now that this may be problematic.'' 
 
 `` I am in half a mind to shoot you Elf.'' 
 
 `` That may be true. However, if you were to do that, then we would not be able to make a deal.'' 
 
 `` Then make a deal we shall. What have you got?'' 
 
 `` Well... I looked through my Father's stash and I found this...'' 
 
 Rummaging through is satchel, Dahalva yanked out a glass bottle and presented it to the human. 
 
 `` I believe you call this... w-i-n-e? Perhaps you will accept this as an offering, we have many more back at the vill-'' 
 
 `` Done.'' 
 
 `` What?'' 
 
 `` We have a deal.'' 
 
 `` Oh, uh.'' The Elf had heard that humans had simple tastes, yet he did not expect this. `` You are tricking me?'' 
 
 `` No, no no no. I'm just something of an... enjoyer of beverages. Now come with me.'' 
 
 Handing the human the bottle, Dahalva followed his new ally into a shelter. 
 
 `` Now THIS, is a firearm, a shooter, a gun. 
 
 `` A g-u-n?'' 
 
 `` Indeed. Observe.'' 
 
 With a deafening roar, the metal mechanism flashed, smoked, and released some sort of projectile into the wall across the room. Dahalva found that his ears were ringing. 
 
 `` Interesting... this will help us defeat the invaders?'' 
 
 `` This? This is nothing my friend. Let me show you... my collection.'' 
 
 Stomping down a staircase into a torchlit room, Dahalva braced himself for the appearance of some sort of war beast. 
 
 `` Voila!'' cried the human, motioning towards the glinting array of devices that filled the entire enclosure. 
 
 `` That is a lot of goons.'' 
 
 `` Guns Elf, guns.'' 
 
 `` And what is that, in the middle?'' 
 
 `` That my friend, is a tank.'' 
 
 `` A t-a-n-k?'' 
 
 `` Yes.'' 
 
 `` Will it... help?'' 
 
 `` I think help is an understatement.''
