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Truth/Serum Cheep-cheep Continued Harassment.         Since: 03-07-05 From: In pieces Since last post: 6068 days Last activity: 6039 days |
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| Okay, this is going to be written in a series of Acts, and Chapters. I have a solid memory through chapter 7-8 (depending on how I decide to divide the last part) and we'll see once I get past there on how it works out. But here is the first part. It took me about 4 hours to write this all up.
Act 1. The Beginning. Chapter one. New Frustrations. My name is Anduril. I was once Honor Guard. I served honorably, and served with pride. I was among hte more respected of the ranks. Everything was going my way. Rising in the ranks, I was gaining both power and friends, as well as earning a well to do lifestyle. Then the war started. I was among several men guarding the noble of our city. The noble was from the house I served, the house of Lars. But there was an ambush. I remember there was a man who stood out, among other men. I don't remember anything else. Two of the men with me were killed outright. Three of us survived, but the noble did not. We were disgraced, stripped of our armor, our status, and our honor. Instead of facing death, the 3 of us were exiled, if only because of our honorable past. The death of that noble sparked inter-political conflict in the nation. Shortly after I was exiled, the war had begun. I had to run for my life. My exile had been elavated to treason against the state, as certain members of the gaurd had been found to have colaborated on the attack, and since I was one of the survivors, I was blamed. That was a year and half ago. Many things have chanced. One of those men with me was killed, the other, a friend of mine who has run further south than I have. I find myself among other people now. Friends I can trust. I'm in a small town now, acting as the local Captain of their city defence. But today does not deal with such things from the past. Today, I have to solve a problem set upon me by the city council. The orks have come again, and are raiding the outlying homesteads. What a headache. And they smell worse than my sister's cooking did when I was a child! Chapter two. The hunt begins! "We cannot stand by and let this attack go un-dealt with!" The old man's higher pitched crackling voice fills the chamber. How I hate talking with the council. Such old men with such grand delusions of the past. However, they are wise, and they are who I listen to. I looked across the chamber to my Commander. He's reasuring to me. He's looking at me and telling me with the cool glance he gives me that I need be patient only a while longer while the council decides what to do. Soon we will be organizing a party to deal with this orc incursion. Rather, *I* will be leading this one. I'm the city Captain. As the old men bodger on about orc and how they operate, I quietly listen. Soon they will tell us to take care of it. From there however, I will be calling the shots. Once they're finished, I'll head out to the barracks and brief the men. ________________________________ The sound of their laughter I could hear. They had an idea about what was going on, a few days ago the survivors of the first ork raid came to the city for refuge, and we have word several other homesteads have also been attacked. They know what's coming, and they're getting out their laughs and joys now, before we move out. The sound of my own voice was reassuring to hear. Just like old days back up north. "Alright, alright, quiet!" The men slowly rouse down from their jeering to listen. All told our small village has 60 men to defend it. Nothing really compaired to national armies, but well enough to maintain a police force and deal with bandits. "We have work to do! The orks as you know have returned again as they have a year ago to raid our outlying peoples and take what they will. We have to find them, and drive them off! Unfortunately, we don't know how many their are, but there must be at least 30 from what we could gather from those who have seen them" The men quietly stirred. They trusted me, and they knew what was coming. A man named Lativig, son of Lativ, was already inspecting his bow. A good 10 or more years younger than I at the age of 23, he's quite a shot with that bow. He brags endlessly about how he's going to be a hero someday. Young and adventurous, but I trust his skill. He's the head of our bowmen. And here in Glynn Dufen, we are known for our archers. "Lativig, gather your best archers and horsemen, we're going to ride out and see what we have to deal with here. Be ready by moring, and be well rested, we're going to be gone for a day, so pack only what you need for two. I'll see you in the morning men, Enjoy tonight while it lasts!" I left the barracks to my own room. I gathered my things that I would need. I didn't have much remaining from my old days. A broad sword that was made for me here, and a local suit of rider's armor. This city doesn't have much in the way of heavily equipped men. But they know the woods better than most men alive. The armor I wear is a suit of leather armor, with heavy hide placed over it to form breastplate, upper leg and thigh plates, and greives and bracers. Dark brown from the treated leathers it was made from, it is ideal for use in the woods. Takes a stronger man to wear a full suit of this, as it does lead to be rather heavy and restrictive if not simply riding all day. Along with my cloak, and horse, I did not pack much else than some food for the next few days. That morning we were ready. We rode off to the first homestead that was attacked. It was a ruin. Completely burt down, and a few bodies lay on the ground, hacked into no doubt by the orks. The houses looted, and the crops and livestock stolen. A raid. Those damn orks rain neighboring countries every few years, in bands, or raiding parties. They come, take what they want, and steal the livestock and crops to feed themselves along the way. Lativig came to me. "Anduril, these tracks lead off in two different directions. One I assume they came from, and one they continued on. The cattle went one way from here, so I assume that's towards their camp. And from the looks of it, it's all by foot." I did not like that. Not at all. But at least it gives us some knowledge. They probably went off to raid the other homesteads near by as well before heading back. More bodies to be found. More lives destroyed... "Lativig, Take your scout-archers and go follow them back to where they came from. Meet me back here by nightfall. I'll take the other riders and see where else they've been." Lativig new his scouting, all his men did. What they lacked in brute strength, they made up for in stealth and accuracy. Both plays off of their exceptional perception, they were true woodsmen. How I would learn to miss them one day. And if only I knew of the use they'd have been in the future, I'd have bought them more drinks! The ten men including Lativig rode off to follow the orks back, and my 9 other riders went off to see what else had been destroyed. We came to another homestead about 2 hours away. The damage was equal to the first. Burned homes, stolen crops and livestock. And the family never made it out. On the ground we found what was left of the family. Father, Mother, children, and the others that lived nearby. All killed, discarded. Such a sad sight. Made one of the men with me cry, he was friends with the family that was so bruatally eliminated. The orks would pay. They would pay dearly. Night is soon approaching. "Alright riders, let's go see what Lativig has to report. Gareth! We'll avenge your friends. Have a strong heart and this won't have to happen again. Are you with me?" The comfort in his eyes showed. I could only hope that no one else would have to cry over loved ones dying. We have to put and end to this. So we rode off. Chapter Three. The Folly of the Orks. "It seems thay they're nearly 10 miles away to the north. Nearing the base of the first mountain, out in the woods. From what we could gather from a distance, there seems to be at least 30 of them, probably more. I don't know if we can really deal with something of that magnitude. We've only 60 men." Lativig rang true. Of the 60 men, 20 at all times had to be left in the city for defence and police work. That gave me only 40 men to use, but that also meant no rest for a few days for those left in the city.. In the end that's what we did. But at first, I had a clever idea. I'd only wished it had worked "Alright men. I've an idea." They could tell by my grin, that this was going to be rather interesting to say the least. Some frowned, some smirked. Either way, we were all in this together. "Lativig, how easily could we sneak up on them on horse, do you know?" "I'd say at night it should be fairly easy to get within a hundred yards or so. Why?" He leered at me. Not quite sure what I wanted to do. "Excellent. And on foot? How close could you and your men make it?" This idea in my head was boiling and frothing, it was nearly done, and ready to be served on a hot plate. Fueled by my men's emotions, the fire under the pot was roaring. The orks would soon taste their final meal. A meal that would take them into eternity. "I'd say we could probably get right up to the camp if we do it right. What are you getting at you old man?" I let his jibe slide by. This wasn't the time to argue with him about military bearing. "You men up for a raid of our own? I aim at cutting the head of the body off, and leaving it to die, so to speak. If we can kill the Warboss, they'll be leaderless, and they'll argue and fight amongst themselves and return home defeated. Lativig, you and a few of your men will provide for an excellent distraction. And then we'll ride by and pick you up. From there, we'll kill as many of them as possible while they're in a disarray." The plan was to sneak up with a few of my riders on foot. We'd go in through the back of the camp. Mostly a hodge-podge of about 40 tents, with a few large ones near the middle near the bonfire. Out to the other side, a giant pen of livestock. Myself and the riders were to head in, sneak into the warboss's tent, and kill him, and slip out. Soon as something happened, either our signal, or our discovery, that is when Lativig's men came to play. Two men snuck up to the pen. On cue, they were to release the pen, and herd the livestock out in all directions, that way, most of the orks would run off trying to stop the stampede. Mostly, I'd say the plan worked. Had I only not been shot in teh leg with an arrow near the end. "Alright," I whispered quietly to Gareth, "from here we sneak in. Kill anything if you're attacked, and we'll make a run for the big tent, and then get out. We're not here to fight them all, in and out only. Ready?" We rode up to about 100 yards away. Lativig and his remaining archers stayed with horses in hiding. Even their horses were trained to be quiet and to remain still, apearing as part of the woods. Upon telling them to hide, anyone more than 10 feet away from me simply vanished. Becoming the woods themselves. And as we quietly and quickly approached the encampment, I felt awkward... The riders, not even the stealthiest of the men, were impossible to hear. I felt like I was a creature thrashing through the forest compaired to their feather-soft movements. But we made it to the first tents. They slipped in like a cold fog. From there I heard the gurgle of several orks, no doubt blades ran through their throats. As we passed the first tents, that's when things started to not go our way. An ork, unarmed, saw one of my men leaving the tent. A roar I can only describe as an angry belch from a creature of nightmares is what was heard. From there, our lives became very difficult. The orks were alerted to our presence. Quickly we ran forward, cutting a path to the large tent. I heard to my right, two of my men clashing with angry orks, apparently armed now. To my left, an ork ran out of his tent carrying an axe of sorts. I engaged. With a rapid low duck to avoid his blow, I twirled my blade around from trailing low behind me. It swung round, and as I quickly rotated my torso around in an arc from a duck, around to my left and then back, my sword swung in my hands up and across to meet the ork's chest. Continuing to swing it around, it met squarely with the orks neck. The ork fell silently to the ground, the only sound coming from it's immense body crashing to it's knees, then toppling over. Across from me two of my men fought some orcs inside the tent. Roused by the roar, my men met the orks face to face, both surprized, and a desperate struggle formed between my men and the far larger orks. Soon as I had felled my foe, they limped out. One carried by the other. He was wounded badly across the stomach, but we continued. The noise from the fleeing animals brought the attention of most of the encampment. Making it to the warboss's tent was easy. But he was not there much to our dismay. As we ran out, we were however trailed by several orks. We ran as quickly as we could. I felled yet another ork, ramming the tip of my sword down his chest and out his back. I had to place a foot to his chest to remove it, a slight red mist followed, and then his hulk fell from his knees as well, down on his back. We ran, and Lativig rode towards us, coming to pick us up. I let my men run further, as 3 more orks came. I was cut off. I parried their first blows well enough. For all their brute strenght, standing a full head and shoulders taller than me, they had no refinement, and knew only to hack and slash. I felled the first one, cutting out his knee, and then across his chest. That is when I felt a pain enter from behind my shoulder. I was amazed to see an arrow sticking out. One of ours. I could hear Lativig cursing loudly. He missed his mark, and in the swirling melee, *I* was hit instead. Luckily it didn't penetrate the armor, but the impact was defintely a surprize. The next volley of arrows from him and several other archers cut down the orks. Had I not been quick enough to get out of the way, I would have been hit too. The orks dead, I ran to them. That's when it happened. The back of my thigh let out a small red stream of blood down inside my armor, as a jagged arrow from one of the ork's bows entered it and dug in nearly to the bone. I fell to my knee in pain. On the ground, I struggled up, and was lifted into the sky by a pair of strong hands. My riders had made it to me,and lifted me from the dirt onto the horse. From there, they rode around the side of the encampment, killing two more orks as we picked up our other two men who had run out with the livestock. And we rode off. 10 orks we had slain that night. Three of my men wounded, and my leg, we took four casualties. All in all, that was a feat in it's own. Had the orks been ready and wearing their armor, the numbers may have flipped. We rode back to the city through the entire night. From there, we rested and prepaired to go out again. We had not killed the ork Warboss, and we knew they would soon be out for blood. Another council meeting was held. I did not attend as my leg was being taken care of by the apothecary, but I was informed that the warboss would be taken care of by other means, before we set off again the next day. I wasn't sure what this has meant, but later on I would be all too thankful for that little man they hired. Though wounded, the next day I rode out again. This time, with 40 men. The townsfolk agreed to help the ones left behind for a few days, give them food and take care of them as they would be standing watch until we returned. My force, now 40 strong in riders, consisted of several elements. 10 Scouts. All excellent archers led by Lativig, as the Scout-Sergeant. I had my 20 riders with me. Those wounded stayed behind, and 3 others came with me. Gareth's brother included. And then I had 10 more men, all in plate armor. Heavy metal armor reserved for our strongest men who could wear it without being hindered. I spent most of the night before I went to sleep talking with Lativig, and the other Sergeants. We knew the orcs would be out for blood, so we had to stop them. Over the entire week, the homesteads had been called in to the city. Though it's a small city of only a few thousand souls, nearly a thousand more lived in homesteads in the surrounding areas. We called in several hundred when the word came that orcs were nearby. All the people in the area of the orc attacks had fled to the city. But their homes and most of their lives were left behind. We determined that there were 3 homesteads in the area most likely to be attacked. I set up a plan to go from one to the other, in an attempt to stop the orcs cold when we found them. The first day we rode out, we came across a homestead already destroyed. Continuing on to the second, we found them. The remaining 30 or so orcs were busy looting the place. Several homes were in the clearing to the west, immediately to the east were some crops. I broke our forces into 3. The archers crept up from the south, almost up to the clearing, a good 25 yards away from the largest home. The armored men from the south-east, around the fields. Since the fields were on fire, the orcs would not see them coming through the flames. And to the north of the field of fire, was the riders and me. Though I would not be doing much fighting, I was there to tell the precise moment to ride it. Lativig's men let loose a volley from their bows and cut down the nearest orks outside the homestead. They didn't stand a chance. And soon, more orcs inside came rushing out. The first of them cut down as well, but there were far too many orks compaired to the scouts. That is when the armored me attacked. Running around from the corner of the field, they cut off the orcs from the archers. Enraged, the orcs charged. Using the first volley as a signal from the archers, my men rode in from behind. Soon as the orks had decided to engage my men, my riders broke through their ranks from behind, slaughtering many of them. We rode through, my sword had tasted yet more ork blood. The remaining nearly 20 orcs attacked my armored men. I'll never know just what miracle had happened that day, but not a single one of my men were killed that day, despite the odds. The clash of metal on metal, men and ork alike yelling in rage at eachother. They hit together like a boulder falling from a cliff hits the ground. The impact was thunderous. But my men did not falter. They held their ground even though outnumbered 2 to 1. It was their superior tactics, keeping together in a tight formation, not allowing themselves to be attacked my more than one ork at a time I surmize is what saved them. Whilst my archers killed those who were not in the fighting yet, I would ride through again with my 20 riders and kill those that were wounded just outside the brutal Melee. One by one, the orks fell. One ork in particular, he felled two of my men on foot. Single handedly this ork slashed them down, and forced over half of my armored men back. His ferocity was unparalleled. Looking back as I rode through I saw him roar and approach one of my downed men, ready to finish him off. Then I saw something shimmer in the air. A small puff of red mist escaped through the sides of the ork's neck. I later learned, that Lativig had seen the spectacle as well. Determined not to fail his friends, he spent time aiming for this ork. That shimmer in the air I saw was his arrow flying through the air from his composite short bow. His aim held true, and whilst the ork was more than a match for any of my men with a sword, he had not been expecting to be defeated by what I'm sure he had previously told his orkish friends were puny humans who couldn't even fight with a sword. Once the brutal fighting was over, I had learned that a full quarter of those orks were actually indeed wounded or killed by Lativig's arrows. Had it not been for his keen sense of perception, I feel certain that I would have lost many men that day. I would owe many things to Lativig throughout the next few years. Act two. Dark Secrets. Chapter 4. Packages. We returned to the city as heroes. The city council could simply not believe that we had killed off over 40 orks, and though we had a dozen wounded, that no one was actually killed by them. Upon going through was was left of the ork camp over the next two weeks, most of what was stolen was returend. Rebuilding of destroyed homesteads would take the rest of the summer and into the fall. Those that had lost everything would be helped by others to get life going again. And for me, I had some peace and quiet for a good while as I healed. Though I was relatively inactive for the next month. The same could hardly be said for Lativig. The council had a small package, about the size of a small loaf of bread. He was to deliver it to the capitol nearly a week and a half away ride. Glyn Dufen lies far to the north of the country, near the great forests. Further to the west of the forests is the mountains, and beyond that, lands that men do not often travel. For over there lies the Elven Kingdom, the Dwarven realm, and the wildlands where the orks hail from. The capitol lies near the heart of the country, in the midst of great plains and fields. I sent Lativig and two other riders along with him. The curious part, was the package was not alone. It was carried by a Foriegner. I never did learn of the man's name. But his head was shaven bald, had very angular features, and a peculiar tatoo on his forhead. It was a Crecent facing the left, with a starburst in the center. He also could only speak our language to a limited degree. He had no weapons that I could see. It was very curious indeed. ______________________________________ "Alright guys, do you have what you need for the trip?" The irritation in my voice was all too apparent. I couldn't believe that Anduril would send me off like this. Sure I accepted the task, but he could have at least given me a week to rest! And this foreigner. I can't even hardly understand what he's saying half the time! "Fine fine fine! I'm almost ready okay! Lay off for a bit Lativig, okay?! I already have my food and everything packed. I just need to get my sword cleaned!" Jihann was clearly irritated too. Him and his friend I decided to bring along with me. Both good riders, and skilled with swords. I wish I'd been alowed to bring along with me some of my archers, but no. The council was dead set in sending men with swords. Whatever. Though Anduril was smart in sending me at least. Gotta have someone with a bow there afterall. The foreigner doesn't even carry a weapon! I don't understand it.. Either way, but the end of the day we had taken off. I brought with me my Rider's armor, my bow, a the shortsword we were all issues, and some food. I was given a bit of money by the council to use to buy my food along the way. It's not much, but it should do if we can be back in 3 weeks. It shouldn't be a problem. I could ride it in under two if they'd let me, but I shouldn't run the horses down too much. --------------------------------- A few days later, we'd left the forests that I grew up in. Out in the plains to the south. It's so flat here. Endless plains of wheat and grass. Haven't seen a village larger than a coulple hundred so far. We decided to stop by in one of them to stay the night. There seemed to be a storm coming. --------------------------------- We didn't make it to a villiage before the rain started. Curse the skies! Either way, we're here now. "Alright, let's try to find an inn or something. This place is a one-street village almost. But if we can, let's find one that has some decent food in the bar shall we?" The men grunted in agreement. The damned foreigner, I can't even pronounce his name, hasn't said a thing since we left hardly. Won't even let me know what it is that's so important that he has to deliver it. It doesn't even seem that heavy either. We rode into the villiage at around dinner time, but I wanted some eggs. Once we'd gotten settled in to two small little rooms with little more than simple beds in them, we went downstairs for something to eat. "Bartender! Get me a drink, and could you fry me up some eggs? I'm starving! A steak too if you've got it!" I hope that old fat bartender can cook. He's got a giant beard. The other two ordered similar items, the foreigner didn't seem to know what he wanted till ours came out, the then managed to ask for the same. Who's this? That's an odd fellow who just came in. Dressed in all black. "Hey, what do you guys think about that guy who just came in?" "I don't know. He's creepy looking" Jihann said. "Look at him, his face is covered in black tattoos. Whoah, hey buddy-" Jihann was cut short. The Foreigner locked eyes with the man, who seemed to do the same. The next thing I knew, my eggs flew across the table, covering Jihann. The third hooded figure had shot at us with.. A crossbow?! The next few moments were a blur. Two similar looking men to the first came in out of the rain, their black cloaks still covering their faces, but the first... He'd pulled his back, and produced a knife which he hurled at our friend. An instant later, the foreigner flew across the table. Me moved right towards the man, propelleled himself from his chair, to low on the table, then in a flurry of kicks he assaulted the intruder. One of the other hooded men produced a sword, the other, was reloading his crossbow. I searched for the only thing I could find, my steak-knife. Jihann grabbed his steak-knife, and threw it at our assailants. He managed to impale our crossbow carrying newcomer. With that, so did our other rider, to far less of an effect. They both jumped behind the bar. The few people in the bar scrambled to teh walls, hiding behind whatever they could. The bartender was cowering behind bar where Jihann and the other had fled. The next few moments astonished me. The foreigner was fighting against the un-hooded tattooed man, with only his hands as weapons! The man had produced a sword and was proceding to attempt to impale it upon our friend. I've never seen a man so fast as the foreigner! He managed to avoid being struck each time, and even managed to parry the sword with his hands, all the while landing blows of his own upon the tattooed man. Jihann threw another object, this time, a bottle of wine, and to the mutual surprise of everyone present, managed to break it across the head of our main assailant! The hooded one with a sword had come around, and was engaging me with his sword. All I could really do was fumble around chairs and the table to avoid being killed, and my pathetic attacks with this damned little knife is doing no good! I barely managed to avoid being shot by the next bolt sent my way from the one carrying the crossbow! The next thing I saw quelled all suspicions I had about our package or our foreign friend. He had broken the neck of our first assailant, and had proceded to leap across the table, use his hand as a blance beam, and swung his foot into the side of the hooded figure's head. As the hooded figure twisted around, the foreigner then brought his OTHER foot around to hit the man again! He amazed me still, as he managed to twirl in the air, and land on top of the man as he fell to the floor. I managed to breath the words "Foreigner..." as he then dashed across the room and dropkicked the man in the chest, further sinking the knife into his chest. I went over to the man, and told the foreigner to hold him. I wanted to ask him some questions. He wouldn't talk, and the only thing that the foreigner could manage to say was "Who sent you! Who sent you!" And even THAT was hard enough to understand. Damn him and his accent. In the confusion of the foreigner repeating himself, me asking questions, and the dying man cursing us as the blood gurgled from his chest and mouth, the foreigner got too excited and broke his neck trying to get him to quiet. Well he quieted him well enough. It was at this point, that I decided we weren't too welcome here, and told Jihann and the others to grab everything, we were leaving. The rest of the night was miserable. We'd been attacked by some crazy cultists, completely covered in tattoos, all of them. We were sleeping outside of town. We had to set up our tents in the rain and mud. On top of all that... I didn't get to finish my steak and eggs.. ------------------------- It was the next day when things got worse. As we rode south, we saw 3 riders on black horses. Each was wearing black hoods. I felt a twinge in my stomach yet again. This wasn't going to go well. Once they got within a hundred yards, they brought their horses to a sprint, revealed their faces, and drew swords. Likewise we drew our weapons. I only got one shot off before they clashed with us. It sunk into one of their guts, and he continued to ride off behind us. Jihann and the other rider had clashed with the other two riders first. An exchange of sword collisions occured, with little results. The foreigner held his horse still next to mine. How he planned on fighting this, I didn't know. He leaped off his horse, hit the ground, then flew up into the air as the two hooded figures rode past. He actually managed to collide with one and knock him off! He grabbed the man, but instead of pulling him clean off, he was pulled along with the man and they both tumbled to the ground. He then proceeded over the next few moments of time to kill the man deftly. It's something he said to me was 'Martial Arts.' Well I'll martial his arts! Damn man can't even speak our language right. But he sure could fight. I decided to ride off and give chace to the man I had wounded. It took me several hundred yards to catch up to his horse. When I had finally managed to broadside him, he was still racing, a look of hatred in his eyes. I shot him in the back, but he kept riding! I shot him once more in the side of his neck. It was my fourth arrow that felled him, right to the side of his head. I took my horse, and trampled his body to ensure the bastard was dead. I'll be damned if I ever let one of these men escape from me alive! I searched his body, only finding an ornate knife and sword that he had on him. His black armor and cloak were both ruined. I gathered his body up on his horse, and rode back to the others. By this time, Jihann and the other rider had managed to ride by again several times with our other assailant, and wound him. The foreigner had managed to kick this one off his horse as well. The man was dead before I had returned. We examined their bodies. We managed to scavenge their weapons, all longswords and knives, and their armor. Well. One and a half suits of body-armor anyhow. We then burned their bodies, and took their horses and cloaks. It was odd they had nothing else with them, not even food or money. I have to be honest here. I was worried. We went into the next villiage and stayed the night. This time things went relatively well. Up until we left the day after. As we rode out, we were encountered a single one of these tattooed monstrocities. He was waiting for us right outside of the villiage as we rode out. I don't know what it is but the gods must have something againt us! This is rediculous. I have no idea who these people are, why they are after us, or where they're coming from if not out of some sort of hell themselves! This one is peculiar though. He walked out into the middle of the road. He then removed his cloak, dropping it to the ground. He then pulled out two ornate swords. Each extended about 4 inches from the handle, then curved downwards then forward. Bladed only on one side, and oddly enough, they seem to have purple veins along the back of the blade... He just stood there, staring at us, as if waiting for us to accept his challenge. I went to grab my bow, but then the foreigner dismounted slowly. All I could do was watch. I don't know if it was more fear or respect I had for this man, but when he strode out their slowly, I just waited and watched. Foreigner, as we called him, strode out to about 25 yards short of the tattooed man. And there he too dropped his cloak to the ground. This was the first time I had seen him without his purlpe garb on. A sweeping sheet like purple material he wore over his body at all times, but here, he pulled it all off. Beneath it, he wore two metal bracers on his arms, and on his chest he had strapped a single large piece of metal, circular to cover his upper chest, and covered in pictures and sybols I didn't understand. This explained to me how he could so easily deflect blows with his arms! He stood there for a few moments, staring at what we now called cultists, for lack of a better term. This man was different than the rest. Under his black cloak which now lay on the ground, he had on a simple leather armor and clothing, unlike our rider friends who we scavenged some sort of splint-mail from. But it was his face that worried me. Unlike the other men who simply had black tatoos, this mans entire head was black. In place of the black tattoos the others had, his were red, a dark deep red that looked like spilt blood. They both just stood there. I'll never understand how it happened, but it seemed like the air itself became as if it were glass. Glass that shattered the instant the two charged eachother. It was so silent before, not even the horses dared make a noise. Just these two, running at eachother. And then they fought.. The foreigner leapt into the air, and attempted to kick the cultist's head off. The cultist ducked and weaved under the foreigner. One moment, it was the foreigner, nothing but a flurry of blows from his hands and feet pushing one way. The next moment, it was the cultist slashing through the air in sophisticated patterns as he twirled around himself. Just black and glimmer off of his sword. Both of them were a blur, impossible to see their shape with clarity. The foreigner then managed to leap backwards and bring a foot up to the cultist's chin, knocking him back. After he flipped back, he went in again. But this time, instead of attacking with his weapons, the cultist made a feint, and then returned the favor to the foreigner by kicking him in the face as well, knocking him onto his back. As the cultist came up to run him through, the foreigner amazed me yet again, by flying off the ground, his foot firmly planted into the cultist's face. I then noticed him holding his arm however. In the process, the cultist's blade had drawn a line across his arm. After looking at it for a moment, the foreigner ignored the slight wound as if it had never happened, and attacked yet again with a greater fury. He landed several significant blows, but that's when things took a turn for the worse. The cultist managed to make a deep gas across the foreigner's stomach. He reeled back, holding his stomach, but still wary for yet another attack. Even though they both were wounded, they continued to fight. They clashed again and again, both unable to land anything. Finally however, the foreigner was able to land another solid hit to the cultist, and then proceded to crack the cultist's head back snapping his neck while he was stunned from his previous blow. Soon as the cultist fell, so did the foreigner. We rushed to his aid, only to discover, that it wasn't the gash that was the worst of his worries. The cut wasn't just red from blood, but his blood turned a purple color, as did the skin and the veins near the two places he'd been cut. Poison. He'd been fighting a man, if you'd call him a man, with poisoned swords. That's why they were purple in color! We grabbed the swords, in each handle, we removed from the base of the hilt a small vial of purple liquid. Poison, which flowed through the veins in the sword. Quickly we searched the cultist's body. It was Jihann that found a small green powder in a pouch in the man's boot, hidden. He then took the powder, and mixed it with the poison, which turned a greenish color after that. Having no other choice, we took the chance and mixed this into the wounds, hoping it would give us enough time to run him to the doctor here. A few minutes later we arrived at the doctor's. He was a well educated man, but had never seen such a thing before. He took our friend under his care for the next few days. He studied what was left from the powder and poison. As payment, he asked only a few pieces of gold, and a vial of the poison for himself to study. Beyond the poison, this was half of what he should have charged. Over the next week, we stayed with in town with the doctor. He used the powder we discovered to finish mixing an effective antidote for the foreigner. The powder was used up, but we still had yet another vial of the poison. We wrapped the swords and the vial up, so as to not risk the chance of being poisoned ourselves. And amazingly enough, the doctor spent most of his time beyond studying the poison, teaching the foreigner how to speak better! We left a few days later, the foreigner healed well enough to travel at least. So we set off, wishing the doctor well, and assuring him we'd stop by on our way back to our home. We bought enough food to last us the last week to our destination. ------------------------------ I'd never been to the capitol before. It was the largest city I'd seen up to this point in my life. Thousands and thousands of people lived here! It sprawled over the landscape for miles!. In the center was a giant castle. I'd never seen a castle either. I'd never left my peaceful forest before. At least on this mission I got to see the world some! We went into the city. The foreigner led us to where we had to go. To members of the royal court. We delivered the package. They took the two poison swords from us too. But thankfully they told us we could keep the rest. They also gave us a letter to return to our city, so the foreigner was placed in charge of that. And with that, we went into the city to sell off our trophies for some gold and have a good time in a the capitol! The horses, armor, and 3 longswords were worth quite a lot of gold, far more than I'd ever owned at one single point in time in my life! We split the prize amongst the four of us. I ate lot's and lot's of good food, finer than I'd ever been able to before. That's what I call having a good time in the capitol! On our third day, we set off for home. We were almost a week behind schedule! But I needed a good break as did the others. We'd had quite a trying time to get here! But alas, we had to go home. And naturally, we ran into some bad luck about a week later, half way home. We were riding down the road, back north to the forests I called home. But as luck would have it, we were attacked by 3 Orks. This time, they were ready, not like the one's I'd fought previously. These were fully armored and had battleaxes ready to cleave us in two! The first one rushed the foreigner and knocked him clean off his horse! I found after the encounter that his scream in pain was due to his wound reopenning, rather than a new one being made, beyond the bruising. I drew my bow, the others, their swords. We fought back against the orks. The other rider was wounded, the orks waraxe had cut him across his side right through his leather Rider's armor. It could stop many things from glancing arrows, to slashes from weapons, but a giant axe weilded by a a massive ork was more than enough to cut right through the medium armor. Jihann rode off and came around to ride-by attack the orks. One ork gave chase. But once he turned back around and looked at me, I put an arrow into his face. Amazingly, that didn't drop him! It took Jihann's sword to finish him off. The other rider, though wounded, continued to fight back against the other ork. He managed to distract him long enough for me to place an arrrow in his back, then the base of his neck. Meanwhile, the foreigner fought his ork alone. Having being thrown off while we rode down further, the ork didn't have to give chase like the others did to us, but went straight for his sprawled out body in the mud. As the ork charged, he flipped back up onto his feet, and engaged the ork. Though he was wounded, it didn't make too much of a difference. Though it was surely a frightening fight, I don't know if the ork could have possibly expected what he was about to face. The foreigner flew at the ork, dodging around his clumsy swings of his mighty axe, and managed to land blow after blow on the ork. Given the bulk of an ork, merely hitting him won't do anything. But this foreigner, he knows some fairly crazy things. How to break a man in a few blows, to shatter bones, and crush skulls as surely as a mace with his feet. In fact, that's just what he did. He finished off the ork by placing his feet through his face. Breaking the orks jaw, and crushing his nose up into his cranial cavity.. After the fighting was over and the orks dead, we had to get them to a surgeon quickly. They were both in a bad state. Call it luck if you want, but we were less than day away from the Doc, so we patched them best we could, and traveled there double pace. When we arrived, the doc was both shocked, and slightly amused to see us again in our current state. Once again he only charged us half. We stayed for several more days with the doctor. In the meantime, he told us about what he had discovered about our poison we had brought him. He brought us into his study, and pulled out an old book. Inside he showed me a picture of a flower. Called a Tharn lilly. They were from a place far to the north, north of even the northern country that Anduril hailed from. He said they were found more and more as you traveled into those mountains, but no one has ever gone far in the mountains and survived. It's so dangerous up there with the weather I'm told. Arctic. He wasn't able to tell me how or why someone would be down here chasing us using a poison made from the flower. He told us also that the powder was made from the root of another plant, and when mixed, detoxifies itself. In the week we stayed there, he also gave the foreigner yet more tutoring on speaking our language. In return, he had the foreigner tell him of many things from his homeland. Most of it was uninteresting to me, so I spent most of my time at the bar trying to hit on women, with no sucess. After a week had passed, we wished the doc well again, and that if we ever travelled down this way again, that we would stop by and visit. We bought some more supplies like food and some new clothes to replace those of ours that had been ruined by blood or damaged. And we set off for home again. We returned home safely. It felt good to be in the forest again. It was awkward being out in the open for days at a time. I miss the smell of the pine, and the firs, the moss, and the fresh air. When we returned to the council, the foreigner delivered his letter. From there, we were given a small reward for our troubles, and the foreigner was paid his rewards. How little did I know, that this was just the beginning of something far greater than I had ever expected... (Last edited by Truth/Serum on 08-13-06 12:21 AM) |
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Elara Divine Mamkute Dark Elf Goddess Chaos Imp Penguins Fan Ms. Invisable  Since: 08-15-04 From: Ferelden Since last post: 96 days Last activity: 96 days |
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| Haven't finished the whole thing, but so far I like it. Few spelling errors though, but I think that came from the speed of typing. Keep it up. | |||
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Truth/Serum Cheep-cheep Continued Harassment. Since: 03-07-05 From: In pieces Since last post: 6068 days Last activity: 6039 days |
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Yeah, I found out my new laptop doesn't have any program that has spellcheck, so hopefully by the end of the week, I'll have my roomie's installation CD and put MS worksuite on here 
I'll edit it and fix all the spelling errors when I get it on here. Oh, and I probalby won't add anything till the weekend. This week is fairly crazy 
I'm glad you like it so far though. It's something new I've never tried before. There's not much dialogue so far, but once I hit the next few chapters, there starts to become a lot of political intrigue going along. New allies, old enemies, new discoveries, and a journey spanning several months to find out the truth. 
Hopefully all by the end of saturday |
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