Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Tim's Story (Chapter II)

This is the second chapter, so I hope you enjoy...

      Once the pair had dried enough meat from the body of the tree cat to last awhile, they set out from the clearing, leaving the remnants of the carcass to nourish the scavenging creatures of the forest. Their path was mostly uneventful for the next few days, but once they left the protection of the oldest trees, which were protected by woodland sprites, they were less fortunate.

      “I never said anything like that!” exclaimed the half dark elf. “Not once in my life did I ever talk about killing any of your stupid kin!”

      Aricka was taken aback by the sudden burst of anger from her companion. “I didn’t say you did,” she said soothingly. “I was merely talking about the rumors the others who didn’t like you very much spread around.” A sour look from Skitsora followed by a brief spurting of profanity caused her to chuckle under her breath.

      “Some of you elves can be very shallow at times,” he said bitterly.

     She heaved a sigh. “I know. I know, but sometimes, when you’re around for so long, and isolated as most of our people have been, you forget how to be curious, and how to understand.”

      Skitsora opened his mouth to say something, but then stiffened slightly as his sensitive ears picked up a faint rustling from the side of the trail. He crouched so the low-growing bushed could hide him and signaled for Aricka to do the same. She did as he instructed and they slid to the side of the trail together. She pulled her legs under a large bush just as a hideous foot stepped onto the path.

      Under the bush, both the young elves screwed their noses up as the scent of rotten meat rushed at them. “Ogre,” mouthed Skitsora silently as another foot joined the first one, followed by another pair, and then two more. The four pairs of feet shuffled around for a few moments, and the two elves could hear the ogres sniffing the air.

      For several minutes, the two lay completely still as the monsters conversed in the guttural grunts of their language, until they turn towards the spot where the elves were hiding. Skitsora slowly slid his sword out of its sheath, while Aricka quietly pulled a purple-fletched arrow from her quiver. Before the lead humanoid could even touch the branches of the bush, he was sent stumbling back with the shaft of an arrow sporting purple feathers protruding from its eye.

      The other ogres wasted a precious moment staring at their dead companion and trying to conceive what had just happened. They had almost no time to react as two small figures leapt from the bush and attacked them with in a swirl of steel. Skitsora sliced a fat hamstring with his short sword even as he conjured a ball of flame in his other hand. Aricka rolled and came up slashing at the belly of one of the beings with her purple blade.

      The creature Skitsora attacked fell to the ground, howling with pain as a fiery first was pressed against his eye.

      Aricka darted around the club that the ogre was trying to brain her with and placed a deep clash on its belly. She took a step back as the monster grabbed at its spilling guts and tried to shove them back into its body. She was about to rush in again and finish the kill when she felt a thick hand grab her ankle and flip her upside down, knocking the sword from her hand and spilling arrows everywhere. “Skitsora!” she cried as the ogre pulled her close to his face, smelled her, and then gave her a mighty shake.



      The dark-skinned elf turned at the sound of his name just in time to see the slender elf fall into unconsciousness, and his lips began moving to shape the words of a spell. The beast that held her had apparently for gotten about her darker companion because he swung her by her ankle against a nearby tree like a small child with a plaything.

      Skitsora winced at the sound of flesh against wood, but didn’t cease murmuring the words to his spell. Before the ogre could swing Aricka against the tree again, his head was engulfed in a cloud of black fire. “Arrrrrrgggh!” it cried and dropped the elf to the ground where her broken form lay crumpled and unmoving.

      “Aricka!” Skitsora ran to the motionless form of his companion and fell to his knees beside her. He gently rolled her onto her back and cradled her limp head in his arms. Just as he was moving his sensitive ear closer to her lips to check for breathing, a hand grabbed his ear and hauled his head to the ground.

      “What do you think you’re doing?” demanded the pale Aricka as she sat up and spat out a mouthful of blood.

      “N-nothing! Just checking to see if your alive is all,” said the shaken dark elf as he tried to pull the tender flesh of his ear from her strong fingers.

      “Hmm. Very well. I guess you had the right intentions.”

      “Um, can you let my ear go please? I did just save your life.” The sight of such a feared elf with his head pinned to the ground at the mercy of a seemingly harmless healer would have been rather amusing for any passers-by.

      “Why should I? I see no problem with the current predicament,” said Aricka. She pinched his nose, and he made a pitiful mewling sound.

      “Please?” Two dark eyes looked into the lighter brown of his captor.

      “Oh, fine, since you asked nicely,” She let go of his ear, and he sat up, shaking his head. “That hurt, you know,” he said as he rubbed his ear.

      “I don’t really care. Now, get a move on. You still haven’t figured out where we’re going,” Aricka said as she rose and gathered the supplies that had been strewed about during the attack.

      “I don’t know that any better than you do,” he said as he rolled over the body of an ogre in search of useful materials.

      Once the bodies had been searched and the supplies gathered, the unlikely pair set off.



      After several days of walking and dining on the meat of small forest animals unlucky enough to cross the path of Aricka’s bow, the two elves chanced upon a tiny farmhouse. They were still in the shelter of the trees when they saw the two young children playing with a small brown puppy.

      “I’ll go find someone to ask about a meal and a place to rest,” Aricka whispered as she peeked out from behind a massive tree. “But, you should probably stay here. At least until I can figure out their opinion on. . . you know.”

      “On a half dark elf staying at their farm and eating their food? Possibly planning an attack?” Skitsora turned away from her gaze. “Yeah, I know.”

      A wave of guilt washed over the female elf as she regarded her outcast friend. “It’ll be alright. They won’t mind,” she said, but she was trying to convince herself as much as she was him.

      “You know they won’t stand for having me anywhere near their home, let alone staying as a guest. I can sleep out here in the woods while you ask for shelter. Perhaps in the morning they will give you some food for the road, but until then, I can hunt.”

      “Skitsora, I will not leave you out here alone where you’ll probably get yourself ambushed by a rabid bear,” she sighed heavily. “I’ll just ask them if they have a place where my traveling companion and I may stay the night. Besides, your skin is not as dark as a full dark elf. We could always say that your color is a birth defect or the result of a misspoken spell.

      The dark-skinned elf fixed her in his gaze. “You really won’t give up, will you?” The only response he got was the crossing of her arms and a harsh glare from brown eyes. “Fine, do as you please, but if one of us is killed as a result of your foolishness, the blame will be yours alone.

    She flashed a mischievous grin at Skitsora before bounding o of the trees and into the small clearing around the farmhouse. He shook his head at the nonsense of the beautiful, stupid elf.



      “Greetings, children,” Aricka called gently in the human tongue as she stepped out of the trees. Might your parents be near?”

      The smallest of the children cowered behind his big sister, who stood tall and without fear, though she was no more than eight years old. “They’re ‘round back, tending the garden,” she said. “Go git ‘em, Harold.” She gave the little boy a shove towards the house, and he ran off calling for his parents.

    Aricka started to take a step closer to the girl, but she quickly froze at a screech from the child. “You’d better be staying right there, or me dog will get you!” The sight of a little girl trying to threaten a full-grown elf brought a faint smile to Aricka’s face. The little puppy happily gnawing on a stick, not even taking the time to sniff the newcomer, made it even more amusing. However, the elf did not want to cause any trouble with the farmers, so she calmly sat on the soft grass where she stood.

      The high-pitched voice of Harold could still be heard as he tried to get his parents to listen to him. Within a few moments, the little boy reappeared, this time dragging the hand of a woman, probably his mother. Right behind the pair game a man holding a pitchfork in a threatening manner. “Who are you, and what is your business here,” he demanded.

      “My name is Aricka, and I come from the elven city of Ervingallin with my companion. We have been on the road many days and are in need of a safe place to rest before continuing on our journey. My companion and I were wondering if perhaps we might find a meal and shelter in exchange for some coins.”

      “Where is your companion, and what kind of coins will you pay?” The man’s eyes softened with reason at the mention of money.

     “He is rather shy, for he has a deformity he obtained as a young child when a healer trainee spoke the words of a spell wrong. Because of it, he is often not accepted outside of our own village. And perhaps this will suffice as payment for our stay?”She produced three silver coins from a purse at her belt to show the man.

      His eyes lit up at the sight such great payment. “You and your companion are welcome to stay, but first you must allow me to see his deformity. I don’t need the children having nightmare because of a scary elf.” The man spoke with a much different accent than his daughter did. Perhaps he was from a different are and had moved to these primitive woodlands to raise his family.

      “Very well,” she said. “Skitsora, come out, but keep your hood up until the children are inside.” She watched as the dark figure of her friend slipped silently from the woods and came to stand beside her with the hood of his cloak covering his dark features. The two farmer’s wife dragged the protesting children inside.

      “Alright,” the man said gruffly. “Let’s see what you look like then.”

      Nervously, Skitsora reached his hand up to pull back his hood, but before he could the man was shouting, “dark elf! He’s a dark elf!” Instantly the man was slashing his pitchfork at the elves, screaming, “get back! Get off my property! There is nothing here for you to take, you varmin!”

      Aricka grabbed for the handle of the pitchfork, but not before it punctured Skitsora’s hand as he tried to protect himself. She managed to grab the weapon and pull in away from the man so she and the half dark elf could make their escape.



      They ran for a few miles before finally settling into a tree for the night. “I guess that wasn’t such a good idea,” Aricka said to break the silence as they sat eating yet another stringy squirrel.

      “I told you so,” Skitsora muttered as he wrapped a new bandage around his wounded hand.

      “Here, let me help,” she said and reached for his hand. She spoke a few words and the wound began to close.”

      “Thank you,” he said.

      Without much more conversation, he drifted into a restless sleep while Aricka took the first watch.

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