Laurel
First Post
Chapter One- “Shadows of the Past”
Day Five- The Road West to the Ocean
I say good-bye this morning to the horse that had carried me without complaint for the past four days. Michael would no doubt criticize my easy and quick attachment to the horse and this group, but with nothing else I seem to be reaching… no time for that now for we are leaving the caravan. The extra horses will help Jaine move the equipment and people towards Thainsport. With so many wounded it will still be a slow trek, but Justice and Brad are both sure we will catch up to them shortly after we have dealt with these attackers. As Selura pointed out the night before, even if we travel with the caravan there is no guarantee that the attacks would stop or that they will not simply prey on someone else. Though Edriss seemed unconcerned with the thought of innocents harmed, he did like the idea of a good fight. Before we broke the meeting Arfin reminded us that we had only three days to report back, so we were already on borrowed time and had to hurry. So with midnight cloak flowing behind him Edriss takes the lead on foot. Slowly we leave the sounds of the caravan behind us taking a small trail leading west.
The prisoner still wrapped in his black armor from the night before has been bound tightly at the wrists constantly shadowed by Kareth’s presence at his side. Kareth’s six foot frame hunches slightly as he continues to speak with the shorter prisoner. I am surprised his thick gray lips and white tusks do not hindering the flow of speech as they exchange what sounds like amicable words down the path. The rest of us move as silently as we can through the brush, but the prisoner has no such thoughts or desires and so chats with Kareth as if this they sat round the dinning table.
Justice’s fingers twitch along her sword hilt while Brad beside her tightly grasps a small dagger hilt. They walk a few yard in front of the prisoner directly down the center of the path looking both directions for any signs of danger. Edriss holds his cross bow at the ready, sliding from shadow to shadow a few feet into the woods. Arfin behind us swings his axe in wide arcs little eyes constantly darting about, and Selura calmly walks behind him as if out for a morning walk.
I keep my hand near my side quiver, but choose not to knock an arrow as yet. From the corner of my eye I see a flash of brown and black meet. Edriss and his knife are again ready to slit a throat, but this time our prisoners. Rolling my weight to the front of my left foot I peer around Edriss’ dark cape to see he holds a blade to the man’s throat. In a steely soft whisper Edriss says, “Be quite.” Trying to not draw attention I quietly step around Edriss, to see beyond, and what I spot forces me to silently knock and draw my bow taught not lifting it. Justice and Brad have darted behind opposite trees arguing with their hands.
I look up spying two black clad short figures, friends of the prisoner no doubt, further up the road. They pass each other occasionally looking up and down the pathway. They seem not to have noticed us, yet. They seem to be scouts posted to watch the road. Kareth moves closer to the prisoner hand on his shoulder. Edriss smiles his sly smile and dropping the blade tip motions the rest of us to spread out. Kareth looks from the prisoner to his friends and back down. As Edriss moves off to the left I look toward the others. Selura who was quietly walking behind me, now moves off opposite Edriss in the trees. Kareth and I stay next to the prisoner on the path. The prisoner whole body tenses as Edriss figure moves away, he finally sees his companions. He shouts a single short word. I raise my bow pointed down the path hurriedly adjusting for wind and distance. The two figures down the path stop dead and swiftly turn to the call and race towards us drawing knifes and swords in each hand.
I hear a loud crack from above, and swing around thinking they could have laid an ambush, but see instead the small round legs of the dwarf draped precariously across a tree branch. He points a steel drake in his hard calloused hands toward the enemy; the tip smoking from the recent discharge.
Kareth moves forward shouting in common “Friends, Friends!” as the prisoners repeats his word again and again. Neither side seems to want to end this though. I glance between the oncoming foes, Kareth’s wise eyes, and the prisoners frantic movements. Not knowing or caring if what I do is for good or ill, I flip the arrow to lay against the bows curve in my left hand. Drawing my little Kukri from my belt with my right hand, I quickly cut the prisoners bonds. I watch to see what he will do, and hope Kareth told the truth. The prisoner pushes the rope from his hands as I flip the arrow back in place drawing the string taught but not raising the point. He does not even bother to glance at me, instead turning to his companions holding up his freed hands shouting what I hope is a command to stop.
In the scant few seconds that this took, Justice had clashed with one of the guards with Selura closing quickly behind them. Kareth quickly raced toward them the prisoners close at his heels both repeating their words of friendship. Justice spared one glance behind her as the other looked past her shoulder. Finally, the sword blades stilled and they moved apart. Justice re-sheathing her sword, but not relaxing her coiled fighting stance. I race by heading for the other two, bow pointed at the ground but at the ready.
Brad is standing hands moving slightly under his cloak, while Edriss and the other black clad warrior are locked together. Edriss’ blade denting the skin of his foe’s neck. It would seem Edriss has the upper hand, when a flash of metal glints below Edriss’s belt. The black clad figure holds his knife to Edriss, ready to sever the artery in the leg or something more tortuous. Both stand still eyes locked and it seems not even breathing. I ground to a halt raising my bow and taking aim on the black clad figure. If Edriss’s blood falls, I will make sure he dies. I barely notice that as Justice reaches Brad’s side he quickly pushes his hands into the folds of his cloak. Concentrating on the very macho show continuing, Edriss and his mirror both test the waters slowly drawing away just to flash back into position. As we surround them I see the prisoner and the other guard joining the circle commanding their guard to cease as well. After annoying us with their display for long enough, they agree to put the knives down together. Our prisoner and the one Justice faced converse quickly and then motion us to follow, they sprint ahead down the path. Kareth scratches his shaven skull with a large green finger, finally slowly saying that we should follow them.
The encampment is huge with small uniform tents lined systematically in orderly rows, except one very large and very elaborate looking tent on the opposite side of the camp. To top it’s size it seems to be one of the few tents that boasts color. Our guide points to the large tent and tells Kareth something, before Kareth can muddle out a translation he is jogging away. Kareth tells us “Go to big tent.” I am not sure how, but I am thankful Kareth knows their language. We may have a chance to solve this without bloodshed.
Our presence is noticed, but none stop our progress across the sandy ground. As we enter the tent a smell of sweet incense washes over me. The rich emerald, magenta, topaz and gold colors flash garishly against what we have seen of these simple people. Dominating the back of the tent is a large dais supporting hundreds of pillows of all shapes and sizes seemingly thrown about. In obvious comfort a large man reclines on his side looking down at us from his raised position. He appears to be like a living sculpture- the perfect warrior’s body. Muscles subtly flowing as he slowly rises to a sitting position. His face is set like marble, stern and unforgiving, dark eyes betraying no emotion. He wears the same black uniformed pants the other soldiers wear. But his chest is bare, showing where the perfection is marked with bandages that hold together severe wounds sure to leave scars. With a blush at the way my thoughts are turning I try to stare intently at the floor instead.
From the corner of my eye I see Justice bow gracefully, but I see Arfin, Selura and Brad are only bowing their heads. Edriss continues to look around the room ignoring the man at the front. His eyes lighting from the golden trinkets to the strands of white pearls heaped in dishes and bowls about the sparsely furnished tent instead. Kareth drops to his knees his bulky frame somehow flowing into a position expressing complete submission. The man on the dais clenches his fists, as emotion finally surfaces. Like lighting his features change releasing the carefully controlled hatred and anger that was buried. He issues forth a string of clipped words in his strange language, then in one powerful move rises. His movement is hampered by the wound at his side, but grim face set he slowly makes his way through the back tent flap. Confused we all look to Kareth who after a few moments of pondering questioningly says, “We fight for honor. Fight to death. One Fight. One hour fight.” Easily the shock is felt by all, fight- to the death- what is this. This was not the expected greeting, but Kareth seems adamant. As we exit the tent, Justice’s furrowed brow betrays her worry, “These people are not evil.” Yet what have we done to deserve a death match, my mind questions. My father taught me about honor, but nothing like this.
As the others discuss who should fight I stand back. A feeling of wrongness settles over me, but this seems unavoidable if we are to get the answers we need. Though we know them not to be evil, Justice her voice as steady and calm but a for a slight quiver declares, “I will fight. I am the lest injured and the best with a sword.” Looking pointedly at Brad and Arfin, “And I can nit trust you to not chop his head off.” Arfin continues to grumble, but still occasionally holding his side from where one of the disks skimmed his side last night he turns his back on us. Brad continues to argue, but soon even he must fall silent, from our group she is the best choice. We must trust her to not only win, but some how to win without killing the warrior.
After the hour is up the paladin enters the appointed clearing. Justice removes her cloak letting all get a good look at the worked mail beneath. It is easy to tell the armor has already been through a lot, as deep dents and scratches randomly cover the armor. Whether Justice shed her cloak to prove anything is unclear. She hands her blue clerical cloak to Selura who offers a shaky smile. “You will not be alone, I will sing for you,” a smiling Selura says cryptically. Brad overhearing this steps forward, “No, they said one combatant. They get no help; we get no help. She does this on her own.” Selura drops her head, and we all have to admit, at least to ourselves, that he is right.
The crowd is thick but silent around us, neither cheering nor booing just watching and waiting. Then the crowd parts to show a darkly armored figure. The figure takes position opposite Justice. They stand as opposites not just in this battle, but as if for light and darkness itself. Justice blonde hair glints in the sunlight, light hazel eyes intently watching his every move, lightly bronzed skin already showing a slight sheen of perspiration. The opponent encased in black from the top of the dragon helm to the tightly formed black boots is hard to read at all. The blond warrior mimics the bow her black masked opponent gives her. Both reach behind them and draw blades, Justice’s a long, thick unadorned straight steel blade, while the other draws a thin curved blade that sparkles in the bright light. Strange symbols dance across the blades surface much as those along my bow. These symbols are none that I know of though, not those of the alder nor those of the keeper of forests.
Justice reaches out first slicing her blade towards the others middle. It is easily parried away. Slowly crossing feet over feet they circle, testing. The black masked warrior springs forward slicing at Justice’s feet. With a small clank of her armor Justice’s feet easily clear the sharp edge. They return to their standing positions. Slowly placing their feet one over the other slowly turning like a wheel.
Then they both spring inward clashing and the circle is made again but only large enough for the two as the twist and turn blades flashing in the sun. I can barely follow the advancing offense and quick retreats and parries and feints. My hand falls to my small kukri as the knowledge that I surely would be dead already enters my mind.
A small cloud of dust and sand rise as their feet swirl and shuffle, till with a jolt they are motionless. One lays on the ground and the other crouched hunched over with blade point straight to their opponents breast. In silence, the dust settles around the two figures. Both are covered in a layer of sand and dirt, I look to the others unsure what should happen next. The warrior on the ground slightly tilts their head back pushing the thick blade closer to the exposed skin in an unspoken plea. Justice remains motionless, for as the dark warrior’s head fell back the mask falls away. Long straight dark hair flows out of the helm and slowly a delicate and female face is revealed. This is not the warrior we thought, we should have been fighting the leader. The leader who now stiffly strides through the crowd. His people bow in a wave as he passes as he slowly and unhurriedly walks up to the still hunched Justice and the prone woman.
He now wears the full armor of his high position carrying a heavy black helm in the crook of his arm. A similar dragon head to that on the woman’s helm decorates his, but his is seems larger and more ornate. As his shadow falls across Justice and the woman, Justice rises re-sheathing her sword in a the same movement. Then bowing to both the leader and the woman she fought, Justice measures her paces as she turns her back and strides toward us. The leader’s eyes never lave the woman, while still panting she rolls to her knees head bowed. She remains thus for a few seconds then slowly rises dragging her feet slowly, and without a word or glance up from the dirt she passes out of the circle. Once she clears the circle the spectators close the path off from our sights.
The leader speaks a few clipped words to Kareth, points to the tent and walks back inside. As a crooked smile dawns on his face, Kareth scratches his bald head stuttering out, “We have honor now.” Then he too moves inside the tent, and slowly we all follow pace. We need to get information and through Kareth’s small understanding of their language we try to find out why they are here, and why they are without food.
We find they are called the dragon blood, and Lord Miagi, as he is called, tells us that an enemy from the North attacked his people. The new emperor had no honor and fought with dragons and the undead. So to save his people, he fled through the portal and came here. However, only some of his people made it; there are still hundreds trapped on the other side. His daughter, Tahre, is the one we fought earlier in the evening.
Brad asks if we can study this portal. We are pointed toward the center of the encampment. It stands with gray white pillars surrounding a three tiered set of circles with runes and moss all around the surface. I have never seen the like and can feel some sort of unnatural power coming from it, so I keep my distance. Justice, Brad, and Selura walk up the stairs staring intently down and around. Mr. Miagi and some of his people gather close round the circle, watching us with hope in their eyes.
Justice places her hands on the top tier barely touching the surface. Her golden hair falls around her face as she bows her head and closes her eyes. Her hair moves slightly as she speaks a few soft words. As if a gate opened a flash of light and a wind storm shoots from the center high into the sky. Justice is pushed back a step with the force. I grab hold of the pillar next to me as the wind storm encompasses all of us inside the circle. My hair is torn easily from it’s leather strap whipping around my face and into my eyes. I struggle to grab the errant pieces holding them back, forced to simply watch, back pressed against one stone as ghost like creatures come screaming from center. Struggling with bow and hair, I look through the wind seeing faint images of more people. Short people showing the same features as Mr. Miagi’s group, and they seem to be fighting these creatures as well. As one circles closer to me, I shoot watching horrified as my arrows pass through them harmlessly. I try for another and though it passes through it screams in rage, so it must have done something.
Over the raging wind and screaming people, I faintly hear Justice shouting. I am pulled forward as with a loud clank, all is back as it was. The camp largely looks as it did before, except interspersed with the black clad fighters are about 600 new people, women, babies, children, and men, all about us. Everyone moves at once some hugging, some crying, most moving toward us. I force my back against the pillar again slowing my breath and heart, while taking what support it offers for my weakening legs. I look toward the others, and back to Mr. Miagi. Selura and Brad sit heavily on the steps, while Justice simply stands looking at her hands. Edriss, Arfin, and Kareth stand across leaning against other pillars. Everyone holds a look of relief, caution, and confusion.
There are now more wounded that need healing, and more mouths to feed. With Miagi re-united with his missing people, we feel a responsibility for these people. Selura offers that we can take them back to Thainsport, there they can petition the court to help them. No matter what they do we can not just leave them here. So I try to spend the rest of the day helping as I can and calming the soldiers with injuries. Even though they can not understand my elvish, they accept my help grudgingly and I even find some new herbs and polices through the others.
That night with unspoken agreement Selura stands facing the light of one fire, then Brad, Justice, Arfin, Edriss, and I all move to the same spot setting up camp much as we had every other night. For the most part we are silent, but as I look around it warms my heart to know each sought this same group out. We may be stuck together, but seems even now we are forming a need for each other. We lay out our rolls and packs forming the same circle. Justice takes a point protecting her back with a tree, while Kareth sprawls eyes closed next to her. Arfin’s thunderous clanking soon lowers to a low grumbling as he settles down, with Brad inching his plush pad as close the fire as he dares. Selura’s game has advanced I see as she lays her roll each night closer and closer to his. A spot lays empty waiting for Edriss next to her, but we all know it will be a while yet before he lays down. I sit legs curled under me sharing the same tree with Justice just watching and waiting. It has been a long day, but tomorrow we start the ride back to Thainsport. We start the beginning of the end of my time with these people. As Arfin and Brad’s snores increase in volume, I see Edriss laying down. His back faces me, but I can see the weapons he has even now at the ready. A cross bow has no match for the speed of a regular bow, but I have seen with his accuracy and the added power it is a deadly force. I shake my head trying to stay awake, though Justice seems to be taking first watch. Stating No place is truly safe and no one should be trusted completely with her body language. Edriss shifts his body in sleep resting now on his back. His hood has fallen back and in the flames of the fire I can finally see his features fully. His ears are slightly pointed like mine showing his half Alder side, but his dark skin proudly showing him to be of true alder decent. The true alder blood simply elevating him in status, they sided with King Tain in the last war and even now only they can serve as his elite guard. It is easy to see how Edriss can feel superior and can act as an elite of the aristocracy. His nose straight with a slightly upward curve even seems to say that he is better then others, and he looks of my age as sleep slowly peels the lies and lines from his face. This is the first and maybe the last time I will get to look at him, and I would wish to remember him thus looking young and honest. Showing me even briefly there is goodness in him, he just needs to learn how to show it.
Day Five- The Road West to the Ocean
I say good-bye this morning to the horse that had carried me without complaint for the past four days. Michael would no doubt criticize my easy and quick attachment to the horse and this group, but with nothing else I seem to be reaching… no time for that now for we are leaving the caravan. The extra horses will help Jaine move the equipment and people towards Thainsport. With so many wounded it will still be a slow trek, but Justice and Brad are both sure we will catch up to them shortly after we have dealt with these attackers. As Selura pointed out the night before, even if we travel with the caravan there is no guarantee that the attacks would stop or that they will not simply prey on someone else. Though Edriss seemed unconcerned with the thought of innocents harmed, he did like the idea of a good fight. Before we broke the meeting Arfin reminded us that we had only three days to report back, so we were already on borrowed time and had to hurry. So with midnight cloak flowing behind him Edriss takes the lead on foot. Slowly we leave the sounds of the caravan behind us taking a small trail leading west.
The prisoner still wrapped in his black armor from the night before has been bound tightly at the wrists constantly shadowed by Kareth’s presence at his side. Kareth’s six foot frame hunches slightly as he continues to speak with the shorter prisoner. I am surprised his thick gray lips and white tusks do not hindering the flow of speech as they exchange what sounds like amicable words down the path. The rest of us move as silently as we can through the brush, but the prisoner has no such thoughts or desires and so chats with Kareth as if this they sat round the dinning table.
Justice’s fingers twitch along her sword hilt while Brad beside her tightly grasps a small dagger hilt. They walk a few yard in front of the prisoner directly down the center of the path looking both directions for any signs of danger. Edriss holds his cross bow at the ready, sliding from shadow to shadow a few feet into the woods. Arfin behind us swings his axe in wide arcs little eyes constantly darting about, and Selura calmly walks behind him as if out for a morning walk.
I keep my hand near my side quiver, but choose not to knock an arrow as yet. From the corner of my eye I see a flash of brown and black meet. Edriss and his knife are again ready to slit a throat, but this time our prisoners. Rolling my weight to the front of my left foot I peer around Edriss’ dark cape to see he holds a blade to the man’s throat. In a steely soft whisper Edriss says, “Be quite.” Trying to not draw attention I quietly step around Edriss, to see beyond, and what I spot forces me to silently knock and draw my bow taught not lifting it. Justice and Brad have darted behind opposite trees arguing with their hands.
I look up spying two black clad short figures, friends of the prisoner no doubt, further up the road. They pass each other occasionally looking up and down the pathway. They seem not to have noticed us, yet. They seem to be scouts posted to watch the road. Kareth moves closer to the prisoner hand on his shoulder. Edriss smiles his sly smile and dropping the blade tip motions the rest of us to spread out. Kareth looks from the prisoner to his friends and back down. As Edriss moves off to the left I look toward the others. Selura who was quietly walking behind me, now moves off opposite Edriss in the trees. Kareth and I stay next to the prisoner on the path. The prisoner whole body tenses as Edriss figure moves away, he finally sees his companions. He shouts a single short word. I raise my bow pointed down the path hurriedly adjusting for wind and distance. The two figures down the path stop dead and swiftly turn to the call and race towards us drawing knifes and swords in each hand.
I hear a loud crack from above, and swing around thinking they could have laid an ambush, but see instead the small round legs of the dwarf draped precariously across a tree branch. He points a steel drake in his hard calloused hands toward the enemy; the tip smoking from the recent discharge.
Kareth moves forward shouting in common “Friends, Friends!” as the prisoners repeats his word again and again. Neither side seems to want to end this though. I glance between the oncoming foes, Kareth’s wise eyes, and the prisoners frantic movements. Not knowing or caring if what I do is for good or ill, I flip the arrow to lay against the bows curve in my left hand. Drawing my little Kukri from my belt with my right hand, I quickly cut the prisoners bonds. I watch to see what he will do, and hope Kareth told the truth. The prisoner pushes the rope from his hands as I flip the arrow back in place drawing the string taught but not raising the point. He does not even bother to glance at me, instead turning to his companions holding up his freed hands shouting what I hope is a command to stop.
In the scant few seconds that this took, Justice had clashed with one of the guards with Selura closing quickly behind them. Kareth quickly raced toward them the prisoners close at his heels both repeating their words of friendship. Justice spared one glance behind her as the other looked past her shoulder. Finally, the sword blades stilled and they moved apart. Justice re-sheathing her sword, but not relaxing her coiled fighting stance. I race by heading for the other two, bow pointed at the ground but at the ready.
Brad is standing hands moving slightly under his cloak, while Edriss and the other black clad warrior are locked together. Edriss’ blade denting the skin of his foe’s neck. It would seem Edriss has the upper hand, when a flash of metal glints below Edriss’s belt. The black clad figure holds his knife to Edriss, ready to sever the artery in the leg or something more tortuous. Both stand still eyes locked and it seems not even breathing. I ground to a halt raising my bow and taking aim on the black clad figure. If Edriss’s blood falls, I will make sure he dies. I barely notice that as Justice reaches Brad’s side he quickly pushes his hands into the folds of his cloak. Concentrating on the very macho show continuing, Edriss and his mirror both test the waters slowly drawing away just to flash back into position. As we surround them I see the prisoner and the other guard joining the circle commanding their guard to cease as well. After annoying us with their display for long enough, they agree to put the knives down together. Our prisoner and the one Justice faced converse quickly and then motion us to follow, they sprint ahead down the path. Kareth scratches his shaven skull with a large green finger, finally slowly saying that we should follow them.
The encampment is huge with small uniform tents lined systematically in orderly rows, except one very large and very elaborate looking tent on the opposite side of the camp. To top it’s size it seems to be one of the few tents that boasts color. Our guide points to the large tent and tells Kareth something, before Kareth can muddle out a translation he is jogging away. Kareth tells us “Go to big tent.” I am not sure how, but I am thankful Kareth knows their language. We may have a chance to solve this without bloodshed.
Our presence is noticed, but none stop our progress across the sandy ground. As we enter the tent a smell of sweet incense washes over me. The rich emerald, magenta, topaz and gold colors flash garishly against what we have seen of these simple people. Dominating the back of the tent is a large dais supporting hundreds of pillows of all shapes and sizes seemingly thrown about. In obvious comfort a large man reclines on his side looking down at us from his raised position. He appears to be like a living sculpture- the perfect warrior’s body. Muscles subtly flowing as he slowly rises to a sitting position. His face is set like marble, stern and unforgiving, dark eyes betraying no emotion. He wears the same black uniformed pants the other soldiers wear. But his chest is bare, showing where the perfection is marked with bandages that hold together severe wounds sure to leave scars. With a blush at the way my thoughts are turning I try to stare intently at the floor instead.
From the corner of my eye I see Justice bow gracefully, but I see Arfin, Selura and Brad are only bowing their heads. Edriss continues to look around the room ignoring the man at the front. His eyes lighting from the golden trinkets to the strands of white pearls heaped in dishes and bowls about the sparsely furnished tent instead. Kareth drops to his knees his bulky frame somehow flowing into a position expressing complete submission. The man on the dais clenches his fists, as emotion finally surfaces. Like lighting his features change releasing the carefully controlled hatred and anger that was buried. He issues forth a string of clipped words in his strange language, then in one powerful move rises. His movement is hampered by the wound at his side, but grim face set he slowly makes his way through the back tent flap. Confused we all look to Kareth who after a few moments of pondering questioningly says, “We fight for honor. Fight to death. One Fight. One hour fight.” Easily the shock is felt by all, fight- to the death- what is this. This was not the expected greeting, but Kareth seems adamant. As we exit the tent, Justice’s furrowed brow betrays her worry, “These people are not evil.” Yet what have we done to deserve a death match, my mind questions. My father taught me about honor, but nothing like this.
As the others discuss who should fight I stand back. A feeling of wrongness settles over me, but this seems unavoidable if we are to get the answers we need. Though we know them not to be evil, Justice her voice as steady and calm but a for a slight quiver declares, “I will fight. I am the lest injured and the best with a sword.” Looking pointedly at Brad and Arfin, “And I can nit trust you to not chop his head off.” Arfin continues to grumble, but still occasionally holding his side from where one of the disks skimmed his side last night he turns his back on us. Brad continues to argue, but soon even he must fall silent, from our group she is the best choice. We must trust her to not only win, but some how to win without killing the warrior.
After the hour is up the paladin enters the appointed clearing. Justice removes her cloak letting all get a good look at the worked mail beneath. It is easy to tell the armor has already been through a lot, as deep dents and scratches randomly cover the armor. Whether Justice shed her cloak to prove anything is unclear. She hands her blue clerical cloak to Selura who offers a shaky smile. “You will not be alone, I will sing for you,” a smiling Selura says cryptically. Brad overhearing this steps forward, “No, they said one combatant. They get no help; we get no help. She does this on her own.” Selura drops her head, and we all have to admit, at least to ourselves, that he is right.
The crowd is thick but silent around us, neither cheering nor booing just watching and waiting. Then the crowd parts to show a darkly armored figure. The figure takes position opposite Justice. They stand as opposites not just in this battle, but as if for light and darkness itself. Justice blonde hair glints in the sunlight, light hazel eyes intently watching his every move, lightly bronzed skin already showing a slight sheen of perspiration. The opponent encased in black from the top of the dragon helm to the tightly formed black boots is hard to read at all. The blond warrior mimics the bow her black masked opponent gives her. Both reach behind them and draw blades, Justice’s a long, thick unadorned straight steel blade, while the other draws a thin curved blade that sparkles in the bright light. Strange symbols dance across the blades surface much as those along my bow. These symbols are none that I know of though, not those of the alder nor those of the keeper of forests.
Justice reaches out first slicing her blade towards the others middle. It is easily parried away. Slowly crossing feet over feet they circle, testing. The black masked warrior springs forward slicing at Justice’s feet. With a small clank of her armor Justice’s feet easily clear the sharp edge. They return to their standing positions. Slowly placing their feet one over the other slowly turning like a wheel.
Then they both spring inward clashing and the circle is made again but only large enough for the two as the twist and turn blades flashing in the sun. I can barely follow the advancing offense and quick retreats and parries and feints. My hand falls to my small kukri as the knowledge that I surely would be dead already enters my mind.
A small cloud of dust and sand rise as their feet swirl and shuffle, till with a jolt they are motionless. One lays on the ground and the other crouched hunched over with blade point straight to their opponents breast. In silence, the dust settles around the two figures. Both are covered in a layer of sand and dirt, I look to the others unsure what should happen next. The warrior on the ground slightly tilts their head back pushing the thick blade closer to the exposed skin in an unspoken plea. Justice remains motionless, for as the dark warrior’s head fell back the mask falls away. Long straight dark hair flows out of the helm and slowly a delicate and female face is revealed. This is not the warrior we thought, we should have been fighting the leader. The leader who now stiffly strides through the crowd. His people bow in a wave as he passes as he slowly and unhurriedly walks up to the still hunched Justice and the prone woman.
He now wears the full armor of his high position carrying a heavy black helm in the crook of his arm. A similar dragon head to that on the woman’s helm decorates his, but his is seems larger and more ornate. As his shadow falls across Justice and the woman, Justice rises re-sheathing her sword in a the same movement. Then bowing to both the leader and the woman she fought, Justice measures her paces as she turns her back and strides toward us. The leader’s eyes never lave the woman, while still panting she rolls to her knees head bowed. She remains thus for a few seconds then slowly rises dragging her feet slowly, and without a word or glance up from the dirt she passes out of the circle. Once she clears the circle the spectators close the path off from our sights.
The leader speaks a few clipped words to Kareth, points to the tent and walks back inside. As a crooked smile dawns on his face, Kareth scratches his bald head stuttering out, “We have honor now.” Then he too moves inside the tent, and slowly we all follow pace. We need to get information and through Kareth’s small understanding of their language we try to find out why they are here, and why they are without food.
We find they are called the dragon blood, and Lord Miagi, as he is called, tells us that an enemy from the North attacked his people. The new emperor had no honor and fought with dragons and the undead. So to save his people, he fled through the portal and came here. However, only some of his people made it; there are still hundreds trapped on the other side. His daughter, Tahre, is the one we fought earlier in the evening.
Brad asks if we can study this portal. We are pointed toward the center of the encampment. It stands with gray white pillars surrounding a three tiered set of circles with runes and moss all around the surface. I have never seen the like and can feel some sort of unnatural power coming from it, so I keep my distance. Justice, Brad, and Selura walk up the stairs staring intently down and around. Mr. Miagi and some of his people gather close round the circle, watching us with hope in their eyes.
Justice places her hands on the top tier barely touching the surface. Her golden hair falls around her face as she bows her head and closes her eyes. Her hair moves slightly as she speaks a few soft words. As if a gate opened a flash of light and a wind storm shoots from the center high into the sky. Justice is pushed back a step with the force. I grab hold of the pillar next to me as the wind storm encompasses all of us inside the circle. My hair is torn easily from it’s leather strap whipping around my face and into my eyes. I struggle to grab the errant pieces holding them back, forced to simply watch, back pressed against one stone as ghost like creatures come screaming from center. Struggling with bow and hair, I look through the wind seeing faint images of more people. Short people showing the same features as Mr. Miagi’s group, and they seem to be fighting these creatures as well. As one circles closer to me, I shoot watching horrified as my arrows pass through them harmlessly. I try for another and though it passes through it screams in rage, so it must have done something.
Over the raging wind and screaming people, I faintly hear Justice shouting. I am pulled forward as with a loud clank, all is back as it was. The camp largely looks as it did before, except interspersed with the black clad fighters are about 600 new people, women, babies, children, and men, all about us. Everyone moves at once some hugging, some crying, most moving toward us. I force my back against the pillar again slowing my breath and heart, while taking what support it offers for my weakening legs. I look toward the others, and back to Mr. Miagi. Selura and Brad sit heavily on the steps, while Justice simply stands looking at her hands. Edriss, Arfin, and Kareth stand across leaning against other pillars. Everyone holds a look of relief, caution, and confusion.
There are now more wounded that need healing, and more mouths to feed. With Miagi re-united with his missing people, we feel a responsibility for these people. Selura offers that we can take them back to Thainsport, there they can petition the court to help them. No matter what they do we can not just leave them here. So I try to spend the rest of the day helping as I can and calming the soldiers with injuries. Even though they can not understand my elvish, they accept my help grudgingly and I even find some new herbs and polices through the others.
That night with unspoken agreement Selura stands facing the light of one fire, then Brad, Justice, Arfin, Edriss, and I all move to the same spot setting up camp much as we had every other night. For the most part we are silent, but as I look around it warms my heart to know each sought this same group out. We may be stuck together, but seems even now we are forming a need for each other. We lay out our rolls and packs forming the same circle. Justice takes a point protecting her back with a tree, while Kareth sprawls eyes closed next to her. Arfin’s thunderous clanking soon lowers to a low grumbling as he settles down, with Brad inching his plush pad as close the fire as he dares. Selura’s game has advanced I see as she lays her roll each night closer and closer to his. A spot lays empty waiting for Edriss next to her, but we all know it will be a while yet before he lays down. I sit legs curled under me sharing the same tree with Justice just watching and waiting. It has been a long day, but tomorrow we start the ride back to Thainsport. We start the beginning of the end of my time with these people. As Arfin and Brad’s snores increase in volume, I see Edriss laying down. His back faces me, but I can see the weapons he has even now at the ready. A cross bow has no match for the speed of a regular bow, but I have seen with his accuracy and the added power it is a deadly force. I shake my head trying to stay awake, though Justice seems to be taking first watch. Stating No place is truly safe and no one should be trusted completely with her body language. Edriss shifts his body in sleep resting now on his back. His hood has fallen back and in the flames of the fire I can finally see his features fully. His ears are slightly pointed like mine showing his half Alder side, but his dark skin proudly showing him to be of true alder decent. The true alder blood simply elevating him in status, they sided with King Tain in the last war and even now only they can serve as his elite guard. It is easy to see how Edriss can feel superior and can act as an elite of the aristocracy. His nose straight with a slightly upward curve even seems to say that he is better then others, and he looks of my age as sleep slowly peels the lies and lines from his face. This is the first and maybe the last time I will get to look at him, and I would wish to remember him thus looking young and honest. Showing me even briefly there is goodness in him, he just needs to learn how to show it.
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