The elf ran histerically into the forest. The bushes tore at his light blue silk shirt, tinted brown
on several patches by the mud he'd fallen into earlier, ripping it open and making his skin
bare and vulnerable to the sharp and ruthless thorns on the branches. They bit lightly into his
skin, though drawing blood, countless times over and over fueling the elf's mad dash deeper
into the forest. His traveling dark blue pants, once hand woven and beautiful to the eye,
were also torn and muddied giving them a look of beggars clothes. Blond flowing hair was
made a total mess that fell over his shoulder. Cold sweat glistened on the elf's face and body.
He ran with a look of determination on his face. His eyes were the only facets of his body that
were giving another impression, that of a scared cornered animal about to face death.
He ran faster and faster and faster still. His lungs felt as if they would explode and his eyes stung
with tears. Every muscle in his body was tense and overworked. His heart came with so many
hastely beats that he could almost feel it go through his chest. He almost welcomed death
after thinking of its serenity. No more running, no more sweating, no more tears or fears. Just
a soothing quietness he could almost feel.
The elf heard a loud noise as if something had tumbeled down a hill. Shaking his head and
looking back up at the tree tops he noticed it was he who had fallen and finding the steep slope
he knew he'd slipped while thinking of death. Picking himself up off the ground he found he
could no longer move his right leg. Agonizing pain shot up his leg and body and he tried to
shift it and stand. The leg was broken. A chill went up his spine. It wasn't a chill of pain, but
rather of realization. He couldn't move, couldn't run. The elf knew that he would come
then and find him totally helpess. No time to panic.
Looking around to scan the area for what he could use as a weapon, the elf found nothing
close by. All he could see were leaves everywhere, some covered in his own blood. Nothing on
a near by branch. Not that it mattered anyway since he couldn't jump and hide in them.
There was nothing but leaves and the small dead tree trunk he laid against that had fallen a long time ago
from the looks of it. He leaned back against the trunk a bit getting ready to meet what he saw
as imminent death. Laying back to get more confortable, he soon found the dead trunk to
have apparently been hollowed out as his back broke through the bark and half his body was
inside the log. An idea sprung into mind. Quickly moving his good leg against the log, he struck it
once fiercely, strength brought by pure survival instinct, and wiggeled his whole body into the
trunk. Whispering above his breath, he called upon the help of the wind spirits. A small gust
of air began to blow and took with it the leaves scattered along the ground. The wind blew the leaves
torward the elf and masked what part of his body was left to be seen from the outside of the tree
trunk under a bed of brown, green, and occasionally red.
The tattered elf tried now to control his breathing, bringing labored breaths of air down to
small noiseless gulps of it. He tried not to think of the pain in his leg and rather focused his
thoughts on the woodland searching for his hunter. He wasn't able to control his actions completely
and felt his thoughts slowly dwindel, his vision blurr. Trying desperately to remain awake, the
elf turned his attention to the pain in his leg, trying to focus on that. This too didn't help as he
slowly felt his legs go numb, then his torso, next his arms. Gasping, trying to hold back tears
of frustration, he felt his eyelids grow too heavy to hold and closed his eyes, succumbing to
the slowly creeping darkness that overcame him. The elf feel asleep and began to dream.
* * * * *
Three elves walked down the forest's only way into Thalanko, capital city of the elves. One
elf was clad in a silver breast plate with the mark of a crossed sword, longbow and young
maple tree, the emblem of Polum'tha'dum, a nation populated completely by warrior elves.
The man had on a pair of grayish blue pants tucked into deer skinned hicking boots.
He wore a silver scarrab with a short sword sheated in it and walked with a regal air about him.
The second wore nothing but a small pouch to the side of his long silk white robes with a book
slung from his waist belt. He seemed the older of the three with bits of gray streaking his black
long braided hair. The last wore a light blue silk shirt and a pair of blue hand woven pants made
for traveling.
The three walked and spoke in the elven language of Thalankonians. Between words they
would some times let out a small laugh or two, always keeping their eyes on the road. The day
was clear and almost perfect for a walk out in the woods, which was exactly what they were doing
commented the oldest of the three with a smile. All three travelers were sent to Thalanko with
the same purpose in mind, to report the location of a lost treasure recently thought to have been
found. It was only a rumor, but command back at Polum'tha'dum wanted to report it to the
Council and make further investigations. They'd choosen the young elves to go in a chance to
ease their restlessness torward their inactivities of late. The old one had been sent to keep an
eye on them.
And it was the old one who fell first.
With a loud thump the eldest elf fell backwards on the road, an arrow in his chest. The youngest
elf yelped in shock at the sight of the old man who'd died instantly. The other, now the eldest
by dire consequences, shouted orders to the shocked man. A hard slap accross the face brought
the shocked youth to awareness.
"Dont look at him fool! Pull yourself together! He's dead and whoever is out there knows the
job has two more before its finished! Now GET MOVING!" yelled the breastplated elf
"Y..Yes sir!" replied the younger one while taking out a small dagger tucked away in his
pants. Quickly, coming to sense what was happening around him, the elf began to scan the forest
trees looking for their attackers.
Motion caught the corner of the breastplated elf's eyes and turned to tell his partner of his findings
only to see that his comrade was already on way torward where the shadow moved. Looking back
in the direction he was to walk he began moving slowly, making sure to keep a tree between himself
and his attacker in case another arrow came at him next. He soon found no arrows, or anything
else for that matter, where he'd seen the shadows move before. With a motion of his hand he
halted the progress of his friend, tilting his head slightly to one side so as to listen all around him.
With a quick and graceful motion he turned around, bringing his sword over his head to block the
deathblow that was being delt at him and fell back a little with the fierceness of the strike.
Digging a bit into the ground with his left foot, the elf used it as leverage to push back with all
his might and resumed to hold his sword infront of him eyeing his attacker.
Before him stood an elf, slightly taller than him, visibly older, wiser, and more skilled than
he was holding a short beautiful silver sword in one hand with such ease that it made the
young warrior's own sword feel a tad heavy in his grip. The elf wore a similar black breastplate
as the young warrior's, rimmed with silver that merged in the middle to form the outline of a
thorned bush. He wore gloves, a sliver necklace holding a black jewel, and wore long black
leather pants that went into knee high black boots. He bore a cape swung over his left shoulder,
and hung freely over his right, enshrouding half the front of his body in what seemed eternal
blackness. Long white flowing hair fell behind his shoulders and over his back in what looked
to be almost silk. He had an average pointed nose, thin lips and cold blue almond shaped
eyes. The young warrior couldn't help but think that, even for an elf, this man was truly the
very image of what beauty ment. He stood with even more regalness than himself, clad in
the beautiful night armor and looked as though he would have been fit to lead thousands of
brave men into battle if it weren't for one, undeniable fact - his bluish gray skin. This was a
dark elf who stood before the young one. A far more seasoned warrior, and skilled hunter than
himself. It was then he knew both his comrade and himself would die that day. That was of course,
unless one survived long enough to get into the safety of Thalanko. Once there the mission
would be complete, and at least one would stay alive this day. With that he made up his mind just as
his dark brethren began to speak.
"I am Asthalaron, the Kinslayer" and the dark elf fell silent seeing that both young ones
know full well who he was. He could tell by the look of dread in their eyes. "Tell me the
location of the Dragon Orb and I shall kill both of you swiftly and painlessly" he continued
"Be foolish enough to resist me, and ill make sure it takes you as long to die, as it has to live
this long"
The warrior elven did not need to turn or look back for he knew his loyal comrade was still behind him - he could hear him quivering. With a great effort of strength he willed his lips to part and speak before the dark one.
"You ask me and my brethen" the elf enfasised the last word making sure to clear the difference between both men's races "to commit high treason divulging such secretive information to an enemy. " the elf sighed "Give us a moment to consider the matter Sha'ras" the young warrior ended by calling his attacker the name dubbed upon his race by his elven kin.
Without turning his back on the enemy, the breastplated youth crept closer to his terror striken ally until standing next to him. Finally he relaxed his stance a little and began to speak in a low voice to other young elf.
"If we stay and fight, we die. If we run now he will catch up to us and stab us in the back. Not very good odds I say."
If the youngest elf was quivering before, now he could berely breathe. He gulped once and nodded several times quickly to let the his companion know of his agreement, but kept wide fearful eyes on his soon to be killer.
"Good. At least you can move your head. Lets just hope your legs are as energetic.
Im going to stay and fight him, fend him off as long as I can so that you may escape.
Dont run down the road for when he is done with me he'll have an easy time following you.
Run into the forest for about a half hour, turn to the direction this road led, and dont stop
running till you see a Thalankonian guard. Our mission is to get this information to the
Council no matter what the cost. Ive been trained properly in the art of battle. More than
you have at least. If I stay, you'll have more time to run. If you stay, ill have less. There is
no time to argue. When I turn to face him run. Please dont stall my friend...the mission is all.
Dont follow these orders and you can never hope to be a true Polumian knight. May Forak
be with you!"
After wishing the blessing of the dueling god on his partner the warrior knight of Polum'tha'dum
turned to face Asthalaron with sword held firmly in hand. With a roar to the heaven's he
called his battle cry and charged full the dark elf. The loud yelling of his comrade woke
what little courage was left in the youngest elf's heart and, after nodding to his friend, he
began to act on his orders. Turning instantly he began to run into the forest gaining speed
with every step taken. He threw away all excess weigh he had on that might tire him before
he could get to Thalanko. Grabbing a small pouch of money from under his shirt he threw it
to the ground as he leapt. He even got rid of his dagger, his only protection from any would
be attackers, in order to complete the mission given to him by his superior officer. Run. He
felt a surge of shame fall on his heart as he did. A true knight of Polum would not run from
an enemy. He would stand and fight till he could no more. But he was now given different
orders. Orders to run and in doing so protect the important information entrusted to him. It
would also be dishonoring to let his mission fail, he thought. With a great conflicting force
within him he knew what must be done. Run. And so he did.
In the quickly distancing road the fleeing elf could hear the screams of the fight and clash of
blades. Apparently his friend was still holding his ground. Perhaps, he thought, he might even
deliver a fatal enough blow to the legendary dark elf to send him fleeing. All he could do now
was hope and pray for his comrade. And so he did. Running as fast as possible the elf gave a
heartfelt cry to the spirits around him begging for them to lend him the strength needed for the long
trek before him.
It had been raining earlier during the day in this part of the woods for the ground was muddied
and sluggish to the touch of every sprint he made. In his dashing he kicked up mud that clung
to his shirt and pants. Ahead he could see a clump of closely grown bushes he couldn't get around.
Worst of all, he knew these were thorned bushes. There was no getting around it though. The
faster he could run to gain distance between himself and the dark kin the better. And so, biting
his lower lip slightly to hold back the coming pain, the young elf jumped straight for the bushes
gaining more speed with grim determination.
* * * * *
There was a snapping sound behind the hidden elf's head but he dared not turn to look and see what he heard. He knew what it was.
Sweat started pouring down the side of his slender face once he slowly started coming back from the blackout he'd just had. The almond shaped eyes darted silently from one bush to another, then to the top of the trees, back to the leaf covered ground, all the while not shifting his head an inch. He looked again to the branches on the trees to see if he had missed something but found his earlier conclusions the same.
Nothing, not a single thing. He could find absolutely nothing different about the ground, trees or bushes. It seemed as if he had heard the noise in his head and slowly went to close his eyes again when he felt it. Something, or one, had sat down on the trunk he was hiding in.
Metal. Now he could hear the metal of sword and sheath touching lightly. Again he fell inmobile. This was in vain.
"How long do you intend to stay in there? Don't you have any pride? Like a rat hidding from its predator. I hate rats. I hate all filthy things." it was the voice of the Dark Elf.
There was a loud thump and the log was flung across the ground slamming into a tree a few feet before it and shattered revealing the wonded elven inside. Placing a hand on the ground, the only one he that wasn't broken now, the battered elf picked himself up on his knees and stared at his soon to be killer.
The dark elf stared back with a slightly disscusted look on his face.
"Pityful...this is the result of the people that have oppressed my race for centuries. You are weak. Weak of body and spirit and so you don't deserve to live. I'll promise you one thing though, tell me the location of the Dragon Orb and I will assure you a quick death."
The dying elf only stared back in reply. His eyes burned with the hatred his own kind had pumped into his blood for the kin of the man who stood before him. Even though he could not hope to fight back and wound his executioner, he knew he could hurt him in a worse way. Silence.
"You don't think its fair? Is that it? You believe you deserve to live if you tell me the location of the orb? Hmph..." the dark legend moved a strand of white hair from his eyes "This is more than what your friend back there got."
Not a word.
The black armored elf waved a dismissing hand and held his sword slightly up more.
"Fine. Die with what pathetic dignity you think you have saved."
With a swift motion the grey-skinned elf thrusted his sword forward with such force that after penetrating the young elf's chest, the blade also went through the tree trunk he was kneeling infront of. The action was so quick that it didn't give the sleyed young man a chance to shout out in pain. His forehead touched the blade of his killer's sword while his body hunched forward.
Removing his bloodstained sword from his prey's chest, Asthalaron wiped out a bloodied cloth and cleaned the blade. He then sheathed it and turned around to walk back and report his failure to his lord. As the handsome grey being walked and faded slowly, the lifeless body of the young elven fell finally to the ground...
