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Story Hour
The Journey across Midnight (Updated 07SEP03)
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<blockquote data-quote="Tokiwong" data-source="post: 1099400" data-attributes="member: 961"><p><strong>They were Heroes</strong></p><p></p><p>The large brutish orc grinned as he took aim from the shore, watching the canoe come into view. His brethren grunted a command, “Shoot the elf first, it may know magic.” The orc strained his bow, and aimed for the elf, his yellowed tusks were jutted upwards in a wry grin, as he let the arrow fly, the shaft sinking deep into the chest of the jungle elf.</p><p></p><p>The orc laughed, as the jungle elf clutched at the arrow, and his two companions a massively built dworg with a scar across his face and a Dorn, tried to paddle their canoe closer to the shore. The orc drew another arrow back, as his companion lit the tip afire, and he let the arrow fly, once again his aim true, causing the Dorn to try and frantically put out the flames as best as he could.</p><p></p><p>“Korg, you play with them, kill them quickly, I am hungry,” the shortest of the four orcs spat out, drawing his vardatch, testing its weight, as he watched the canoe come closer to the shore.</p><p></p><p>Korg snorted, as he took careful aim at the elf once more, “The elf is,” he let the arrow fly as he spoke, “dead.” The black shaft struck the jungle elf in the chest, causing him to reel back in the canoe, and slump over. His companions drawing their weapons, as the canoe hit shallow water.</p><p></p><p>The short orc, waded into the water, a second orc warrior following his vardatch drawn, as the dworg stood and drew a vicious greataxe, stained with black blood. Korg took careful aim, as his brethren waded into vicious melee, and took a shot at the Dorn, the arrow grazing his shoulder. Korg cursed his luck, as he watched the short orc get cut down by the massive dworg. He growled watching the hated half-breed continue his greataxe into the side of his blood brother, Gorn. Korg drew another arrow and let it fly, this time it stuck into the Dorn’s leg, impeding his movement as he leapt from the boat and slashed his bastard sword and short sword into Gorn as well bringing down the orc-warrior in a spray of black blood.</p><p></p><p>Korg growled as he dropped his bow, and drew his vardatch and charged into battle, his jagged vicious blade ready to draw blood, as Hrua smashed his vardatch into the dworg bringing the half-breed down in a spray of blood. The insurgent stumbled back into the water, his blood spilling into the shallow water. The Dorn cut down Hrua, with flash of his blades, the short sword stabbing deep into Hrua’s chest, and the bastard sword taking his head clean off his shoulders.</p><p></p><p>Korg smashed his vardatch into the Dorn’s shoulder, if it were not for the scale mail the large human wore, his arm would have been taken clean off. Korg could feel as a blade smashed against his gut, but did not pierce and he used his shield to deflect the larger bastard sword. Korg retaliated with a powerful slash across the Dorn’s chest drawing blood, and causing the large warrior to stumble back and fall into the water with a splash. Korg pressed forward with gleeful hatred in his eyes, and raised the blade high.</p><p></p><p>But it would never strike.</p><p></p><p>An arrow sailed out of the darkness, straight and true right through the back of Korg’s head, and out his eye. The orc fell to his knees and then face first into the water, his black blood spilling into the water. The Dorn looked up to see a lone figure in the darkness. He thanked his ancestors as he scrambled to his feet, and pulled the burly dworg from the water, he was thankfully alive, if only by the slimmest of threads. </p><p></p><p>From her vantage point the women, could see that the man was still living and tending to his unlikely ally the dworg. She had spared their lives if only briefly until she could know for sure what side they were on. She had hope that they were on her side.</p><p></p><p>Somewhere overhead a dove flew, seeing all, and somewhere an Old Man smiled.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Tokiwong, post: 1099400, member: 961"] [b]They were Heroes[/b] The large brutish orc grinned as he took aim from the shore, watching the canoe come into view. His brethren grunted a command, “Shoot the elf first, it may know magic.” The orc strained his bow, and aimed for the elf, his yellowed tusks were jutted upwards in a wry grin, as he let the arrow fly, the shaft sinking deep into the chest of the jungle elf. The orc laughed, as the jungle elf clutched at the arrow, and his two companions a massively built dworg with a scar across his face and a Dorn, tried to paddle their canoe closer to the shore. The orc drew another arrow back, as his companion lit the tip afire, and he let the arrow fly, once again his aim true, causing the Dorn to try and frantically put out the flames as best as he could. “Korg, you play with them, kill them quickly, I am hungry,” the shortest of the four orcs spat out, drawing his vardatch, testing its weight, as he watched the canoe come closer to the shore. Korg snorted, as he took careful aim at the elf once more, “The elf is,” he let the arrow fly as he spoke, “dead.” The black shaft struck the jungle elf in the chest, causing him to reel back in the canoe, and slump over. His companions drawing their weapons, as the canoe hit shallow water. The short orc, waded into the water, a second orc warrior following his vardatch drawn, as the dworg stood and drew a vicious greataxe, stained with black blood. Korg took careful aim, as his brethren waded into vicious melee, and took a shot at the Dorn, the arrow grazing his shoulder. Korg cursed his luck, as he watched the short orc get cut down by the massive dworg. He growled watching the hated half-breed continue his greataxe into the side of his blood brother, Gorn. Korg drew another arrow and let it fly, this time it stuck into the Dorn’s leg, impeding his movement as he leapt from the boat and slashed his bastard sword and short sword into Gorn as well bringing down the orc-warrior in a spray of black blood. Korg growled as he dropped his bow, and drew his vardatch and charged into battle, his jagged vicious blade ready to draw blood, as Hrua smashed his vardatch into the dworg bringing the half-breed down in a spray of blood. The insurgent stumbled back into the water, his blood spilling into the shallow water. The Dorn cut down Hrua, with flash of his blades, the short sword stabbing deep into Hrua’s chest, and the bastard sword taking his head clean off his shoulders. Korg smashed his vardatch into the Dorn’s shoulder, if it were not for the scale mail the large human wore, his arm would have been taken clean off. Korg could feel as a blade smashed against his gut, but did not pierce and he used his shield to deflect the larger bastard sword. Korg retaliated with a powerful slash across the Dorn’s chest drawing blood, and causing the large warrior to stumble back and fall into the water with a splash. Korg pressed forward with gleeful hatred in his eyes, and raised the blade high. But it would never strike. An arrow sailed out of the darkness, straight and true right through the back of Korg’s head, and out his eye. The orc fell to his knees and then face first into the water, his black blood spilling into the water. The Dorn looked up to see a lone figure in the darkness. He thanked his ancestors as he scrambled to his feet, and pulled the burly dworg from the water, he was thankfully alive, if only by the slimmest of threads. From her vantage point the women, could see that the man was still living and tending to his unlikely ally the dworg. She had spared their lives if only briefly until she could know for sure what side they were on. She had hope that they were on her side. Somewhere overhead a dove flew, seeing all, and somewhere an Old Man smiled. [/QUOTE]
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