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Post by The Keeper on Jul 17, 2009 16:15:12 GMT -8
-The Library-
The young man stood over a thick ancient tome, furiously flipping through the dusty pages. Sweat furrowed on his brow, but not from the heavy cloak draped around him, nor the large blade that would seem to weigh him down, but out of frustration. The young man tightly gripped the lion head on the pommel of his sword. "I know I have seen this before," he shouted. Suddenly a squire burst into the library, his metal greaves clanged loudly on the ground.
"Lieutenant Nara! The captain refuses to wait any longer for you. He says he will leave without you."
The young man looked up from the book, a look of scorn draped over his somewhat childish face. "Then he leads them into a trap! I have seen the enemies' formation before. I know that the captain is leading them to death! If only I can find the counter-strategy." Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, the young man found the passage he searched so desperately for, its ink faint on the ancient pages. "I have found it! Let us be swift, for if the captain has any wit, he would not have left us yet!"
Nara picked up the book and waved his hand forward, signaling the squire to lead the way. Moving forward toward the door, he took one last glance at the library, his eyes trailed up to the large fresco on the ceiling. As his eyes made out each detail, his heart stopped, a scene from his past clawed its way back into his mind.
The pale glow of the candlelight softly danced on the cream-colored walls of the enormous library, hiding the fact that during the daytime the decorated walls were quite colorful. Lion-headed columns stood watch above the countless rows of mahogany bookshelves, each lined with volumes of work ranging from the mundane art of tilling to philosophies of the Astral Sea. Great care had been taken into constructing this vast collection of tomes and artworks from around the known world. The floor was made of opaque granite punctuated with soft, earth-tone marble tiles. While simple in scheme, the floor’s true beauty lied in the skilled masonry that had gone into piecing together the large rock slabs for none had been cut at the quarry, all were taken as they were found and placed into a beautiful mosaic of stone. The ceiling of the library was another masterpiece, a treasure of the modern world. The meticulously hand-painted fresco depicted the Lord of the estate in a fierce battle with a troll ogre. Blood streamed down the beast’s chest as the knight plunged the blade “Lionheart” into its heart carving out his destiny. Rays of light surrounded the knight representing his mandate from the gods. Beneath the two warriors archaic script read, “Peace is grown from the blood of those that oppose the will of the gods.”
“Nara! Where are you and why aren’t you studying,” yelled an enormous man covered in silver plate armor. He stood nearly six and a half feet tall yet he looked comical as he crawled on all fours looking underneath desks and behind bookcases in the grand library. His spiked gauntlets and large sword emitted harsh grating noises as they carved deep grooves into the priceless granite floor.
“I’m right here father,” yelled a small boy as Nara ran into the room panting and short of breath. “I was outside vanquishing orcs with my sword,” smiled Nara as he swung his wooden sword through the air parrying invisible blows. His jet-black hair lay ruffled over his eyes. His pale skin was covered in beads of sweat. Nara was tiny in comparison to his father as the large man stood up beside him. While only ten, the man knew that Nara had become quite proficient with his toy sword and would soon progress to having a real one of his own.
“How many did you kill,” bellowed the general with a hearty laugh. His gruff face covered with deep creases and scars betrayed his true nature. He was actually a very kind-hearted man despite being commander of twenty-thousand battle-heartened troops. It was a surprise that he could laugh at all. Every time he looked at Nara he remembered his beautiful wife who had died giving birth to his son. His smile faltered for a moment as he touched the cloak draped around his neck. She had given it to him on the day of his promotion to Major General in the hope that it would forever protect him in battle. If only he could have somehow protected her the day she passed.
“Well father, I had almost killed a hundred when you interrupted me,” pouted Nara. His boyish features were starting to diminish as he had slowly begun to enter manhood. Tiny, straggling hairs sprouted from his chin in a desperate bid for freedom. The baby fat had already begun to melt away revealing a toned form, truly the son of a knight.
“That’s all well and good Nara but do you remember what I told you,” scolded the general. His face had suddenly grown stern.
“Yes father,” sighed Nara. “Be a student first and a soldier second. Any man can be a soldier with a sharp sword but it is the man with a sharp mind who leads those men.” Nara hated studying but did anyway if only to obey his father. Nara was a genius for his age and did not feel challenged by the tutors his father had assigned to him but he remained obedient and studious nonetheless. He acknowledged the truth in his father’s motto. After all, his father was a leader of men answerable only to the king and the gods.
“Good. Now give your father a hug. It’s time for me to leave. The orcs have become restless during this time of draught and they have begun attacking small towns near the Voradrin Mountains.”
“Alright dad, hurry back,” smiled Nara as a tear rolled down his cheek. “Don’t forget to count how many orcs you kill so we can compare how many we each get while you’re gone, ok?” The tiny boy’s eyes had become red and puffy and his nose had begun to run. He felt ashamed to be crying in front of his father.
“Don’t worry son, I’ll be back soon.” The general removed the cloak from his neck and wrapped it around Nara’s tiny body. “Watch over your mother’s cloak for me, ok?”
Nara silently nodded as tears streamed down his face. He hated it whenever his father went off on a campaign and usually protested but he knew that that must change. After all, he was to become a man soon. He would soon become a squire underneath a knight from some honorable household and train to be a soldier. This was his lot in life, albeit an upstanding and virtuous one but difficult nonetheless. With a heavy sigh, Nara stopped his crying and saluted his father bravely. “Yes sir!” The general beamed with pride and saluted his son back. As his father turned to walk away Nara’s hand fell back to his wooden sword at his side. Gripping it tightly to fight back more tears, he looked up at his father slaying the troll ogre. It seemed like it would take him forever to grow into those boots, as the reflection of the brave knight in shining armor slaying the beast fell upon the young boy and his oversized cloak, wooden sword, and imaginary orcs.
The sight of his father walking out of the library under the fresco would be the last memory Nara had of his father alive. Weeks later, news that his father had been slain in battle was delivered to Nara, his father’s arrow-pierced body brought back on a shield with Lionheart held across his chest, the lion head pommel gripped firmly in his cold, lifeless hands.
The heart-wrenching image of his father’s cold, gray body pulled Nara back into reality. He cast his eyes downward, away from the painted image of the man his father had once been. The man that had once stood tall and proud on the same granite floor where Nara now stood. The man that little Nara watched march through the same mahogany threshold that he now stood frozen before. Nara turned and looked back at the table where he stood crying four years ago. He vowed that he would make it back to this library to study if only to obey his father.
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Post by The Keeper on Jul 17, 2009 16:19:56 GMT -8
-The Fall-
“Lieutenant Nara! We must hurry, you know the captain is an impatient man,” the squire pleaded. A look of fear covered his face.
Nara slowly closed his eyes and took tentative steps through the mahogany doorway unsure if he would see this beloved place again. The sun shone bright through the stained glass windows outside the library bathing the red carpet hallway in a rainbow of light. Nara admired the images portrayed in the windows, especially his favorite, one of a knight kneeling in prayer to the god Ioun. He knew exactly how the knight felt, the power from the knowledge Ioun helped him attain invigorated him and bolstered his confidence. Feeling courage swell up inside of himself, Nara raced down a curving marble staircase and out the towering oak doors of his manor. Out in the courtyard two majestic horses stood, ready to take Nara to the battle raging outside the city as villagers and city dwellers fell back into the keep’s protective walls. Nara mounted one of the horses quickly as his squire mounted the other, carrying Nara’s personal standard.
The battle the young lieutenant rushed into outside the city was a lost cause. He was, in fact, too late to save the brazen captain from the predicted ambush and the loss of that company turned the tide. Orcs surged through the front lines laying waste to the archers and clerics in the rear ranks. With no support, the human knights quickly fell to the savage beasts. Broken battle standards, cleaved shields, and gruesome corpses littered the hillside behind the fleeing humans as blood thirsty orcs pounded toward the golden city.
“Fall back to the Keep! Leave no man behind to these monsters!” Nara grabbed his standard from his squire and raised it high into the air rallying the few surviving defenders behind his might. The red banner shown bright in the sun unseen blood splattered the cloth. Ancient script on the banner read “God of Death” in runes only Nara could read, a language he had found in a single dusty tome within his library. In his mind and his alone, he was the God of Death. No one else knew the burning hope he kept deep inside his heart as he studied text after text. His father had been taken from him but it had been his fault. He had had his father’s protective cloak when he was killed. Nara gritted his teeth as his eyes caught his banner’s runes as they flapped violently in the wind. “One day I will find what I am looking for and finally control death. I will make things right,” thought Nara.
A black arrow whistled through the air, inches from Nara’s face. Snapping back into the real world, Nara twirled to watch the arrow strike his squire in the shoulder. The squire fell back from the horse with a cry as the arrow carried him to the ground. From the squire’s side, an orc came forward with a battleaxe, ready to finish the job the arrow could not.
With lightning speed, Nara planted his banner into the soft earth and drew Lionheart from its scabbard on his back, its metal roar demanded blood. The white blade had become black during Nara’s stead as its wielder as his arcane powers slowly continued to grow and give the sword life. As Nara held Lionheart above his head, knuckles white with rage, he let out an earth-rending shout sending the pious blade bursting into flames. Swinging the sword down violently, the air crackled with energy as if cut by the magics in the sword, the energy coalesced and flew from the blade, slamming into the drooling orc and sending his body flying back. “Men, to the Keep! Defend the villagers inside to the death! We will break the orcs there!” shouted Nara, grabbing up the banner, and picking up his squire onto his horse. Soldiers turned and ran towards Nara, falling back to the Keep.
The battle eventually found its way into the Keep. Human and orc bodies lay amidst the rubble of broken statues and shards of priceless windows. Each shattered stone, fractured window, and broken vase defiled and desecrated the once beautiful manor. The remaining heroic defenders held their ground at the top of the grand marble staircase slashing at the orc invaders from behind their heavy shields. Serrated orc blades danced in the sparks of light across the knights’ shields occasionally drawing blood as they slowly found their mark. One by one the humans fell in a bloody heap as they were forced back toward the library. The defenders piled the bodies of the foes in heaps, but they were just too outnumbered. Eventually, only Nara and Lionheart were left. Lionheart, ablaze with fury, seemed to roar in defiance against the brute squad standing before its master. The battle standard strapped to the back of the lieutenant whipped violently in the wind howling through the shattered stained glass windows.
“Halt!” shouted a deep voice, too clear to be an orc. Despite their overwhelming presence and impending victory, the orcs halted their advance. The haunting clink of chainmail worked its way up through the orc ranks to the forefront. “The last one is mine!” A black knight wielding five foot long dual halberds stepped out from behind his orc companions and walked out to meet Nara. Human blood dripped down his sharpened blades into the already soaked red carpet.
“Major…how…how could you?” Nara stood in disbelief as his commanding officer stalked towards him. Shell-shocked, Nara’s grip on Lionheart loosened and the violent flames emitting from the sword began to subside. How could the one man he believed in and trusted most betray everyone around him? A cold darkness crept over Nara’s body as the will to fight slowly drained away from him.
“How do you think your captain fell into that ambush? While he was brash and uncouth, he was no fool. You, however, are but a mere boy that could not see the changing times. We must all adapt during these times and place our lot with the obvious victor, even if it may be these…heathens.” The black knight stepped forward noticing his clear advantage over the frozen Nara. “You have the same look your father had after I shot him in the back. Tell him I said hello, when you join him in the nine hells, boy.” The black knight raised his two halberds into the air and brought them screaming down into a crushing attack. Nara raised his shield up in defense at the last moment barely deflecting the blow. With a quick spin, Nara sliced at the black knight’s abdomen but to no avail. The traitor leapt back with unnatural speed as Lionheart’s flames licked his chainmail leaving it singed yet relatively unscathed. Having regained his battle-awareness, Nara gripped Lionheart in both hands and let out a vengeful war-cry igniting his blade once more causing several orcs to stumble back in fear. He had found the reason of his father’s death. The monster that his father had trusted to watch his back had betrayed him and his race.
“You…of all people! I vow I will have vengeance for the loss of my father!” Tears began to stream down Nara’s face as he charged the black knight and his horde. The black knight held his ground parrying the fiery blows raining down upon his halberds. With each deflection, Nara was forced back a step eventually reaching the great mahogany doors of his beloved library. With a quick boot to the chest, the black knight sent Nara flying through the massive wooden doors sending enormous shards and splinters into the room.
“You’re not exactly as pathetic as I thought…hmm…you may prove to be of some value in the future with the proper molding.” The black knight indignantly strode over to the helpless Nara who lay stunned amidst a pile of books and struck him in the temple with the hilt of his unholy halberd rendering him unconscious.
As Nara’s world began to fade to black, his grip on his sword loosened. Lionheart flared in rage at the fall of its master causing books around it to burst into flames. The last image burned into the memory of Nara was the sight of crackling wisps of burning paper gently rising up to the painting on the ceiling of his father, his hero. He knew then that he would never lay eyes on this painting or his beloved library again. He would have to break the promise he made of coming back to study and replace it with a different one: to take vengeance upon the murderer who betrayed his father.
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Post by The Keeper on Jul 17, 2009 16:25:02 GMT -8
-The Rise-
The sun was setting over the courtyard of the manor as eight year old Nara was finishing his lesson in swordsmanship that afternoon. His teacher, a man about his father’s age, was relentless and expected nothing less than perfection from his student. Despite being so young, Nara was able to defeat boys twice his age because of the rigorous training he had to endure, truly training meant for a grown man. Beads of sweat poured down his face as his arms had become heavy as lead, his sword an increasingly difficult burden to wield. While the practice sword was much smaller and lighter than a combat sword, it was still hard for Nara to maintain a firm grip while swinging the deadly implement for hours at a time. Until he could master the necessary skills, Nara would never receive a sword of his own; because of this, he worked into the late hours of the afternoon every day with his teacher, the black knight.
“Good, now step forward after you deflect my attack! Remain aggressive even while being on the defensive. Every moment your opponent falters and shows weakness is an opportunity to change the pace to your advantage.” The black knight smirked as he flicked his sword up and easily disarmed Nara. “You see? If you had pressed the attack, I wouldn’t have been able to do that.” Disheartened, little Nara kicked a rock by his foot and picked up his sword out of the dirt.
“I’m sorry sir; I’ll do better next time.” He had been trying his best the whole day but his body wasn’t meant to do this much at this age. “What more does this guy expect of me? I’m just a kid, geez,” thought Nara as he brought his sword back into a ready position. While he greatly enjoyed becoming proficient with a sword at his age, he didn’t agree with the pace of his education. Nara’s arm stiffened up and cramped as the black knight disarmed him once more after a flurry of parries and blows.
“Alright, that’s enough. I can see you’re at your limit. Good work today, we’ll work even harder tomorrow.” The black knight sheathed his sword and patted little Nara on the back. “I’ll go call your father and tell him that we’ve finished for the day.”
Nara let out a sigh of relief as he sat down on the stone wall bordering the edge of the courtyard. His feet dangled off the edge of the cliff his father’s manor stood upon. He looked out across the city below he would soon grow up and defend. Though it was years ahead of him, he was excited to one day take his place among the brave knights that kept the city safe. He would soon be able to join the armored ranks like his father, a general in the army.
“Nara! Come and greet your father!” Nara quickly turned around with a smile blooming on his face only to find himself on a war-torn battlefield out on the plains. The courtyard and his father’s manor had all disappeared. The air reeked with the smell of blood and decay causing Nara to convulse and vomit. Dark energy swirled in pitch-black clouds across the battlefield letting loose bolts of blue lightning down upon those few still locked in combat. Orcs and humans were fighting tooth and nail for every inch of ground on the blood-soaked, god-forsaken plains. Dirt churned into mud as huge pools of blood began to form beneath the heaps of fresh corpses. Reeling from the nauseating sights and smells, little Nara curled up into a ball and began to cry. Just when all hope seemed to have been lost, Nara spotted his father across the battlefield fending off a trio of orcs as his men tried to recover their wounded comrades. Nara leapt for joy and sprinted heedlessly across the plains toward his father ignoring the battle raging around him.
“Father! Father! It’s me, Nara! What’s going on?” Nara dove to his father’s side to wrap his tiny arms around his father’s massive legs only to find himself face first in the dirt. His arms had passed right through his father’s legs as if they were an illusion. Nara’s father doubled over and growled in pain as an orc stabbed its serrated blade into his side. Suddenly, an evil cackle rang out across the battlefield. The booming laughter pierced Nara’s heart for he knew this voice; it was his teacher, the black knight.
“Ahhh, general, it seems you are wounded? Here, let me end your suffering.” The traitorous black knight, supported by a squad of orcs behind him, let loose bolt after bolt at the fallen general. Each black arrow found its mark and plunged itself deep into the general’s back piercing his lungs and heart. Nara cried out in agony as he saw his father beside him gasp for one last breath of air as blood rushed into his lungs. Tears streamed down Nara’s face as he tried to hug his father for the last time but the vision was beginning to become foggy as the clouds of darkness grew even thicker.
Nara jolted awake from his nightmare. The black knight had permeated every aspect of Nara’s conscious and unconscious thought. He had tormented Nara’s nights, offering him no reprieve from the daily horrors of his imprisonment. It had been days, weeks, possibly months since Nara had seen any signs of civilization while trudging across the vastness of the empire under the watchful eye of these orcs. His grasp of time had eluded him since his capture at the hands of the black knight. The monster that he had known growing up as his teacher and his father’s best friend was only a few tents away but alas, he was powerless to do anything at the moment. His sword and armor taken from him, Nara would have to bide his time and wait for the perfect time to strike then that would be the end of it. For now, Nara endured the torture and slave labor at the hands of his savage orc masters. He had begun to become numb to the daily kicks and sneers. They would curse and jeer at him in their native tongue, Giant. Remembering from his studies of the basics of the Giant language itself, Nara began to understand and commit the language to memory. He was sure that this knowledge would be beneficial and help him and his comrades escape one day.
Nara spent most of his time in the camp trying to keep his sanity by getting to know the other prisoners. Most were human soldiers from his town but a few of the captives were obviously from different parts of the empire. The two that interested Nara the most were a goliath barbarian who mostly kept to himself and a man simply known throughout the camp as rogue. None of the other prisoners spoke to or interacted with the goliath because of his fearsome appearance but Nara knew him better. Nara had learned that despite his enormous height, Sumalseh had been banished from his clan for being a runt. Nara had even gone so far as to give Sumalseh a nickname, Smalls, which Sumalseh had eagerly accepted with a smile for he had never been given anything or shown kindness before. The man the other prisoners called rogue kept his hooded cloak on and never spoke to any of the other captives besides Sumalseh and Nara. Rumors spread that he was from a distant continent and had been a vagrant traveling through the countryside when the orcs held their uprising. He didn’t speak much to Nara or Sumalseh but what he did tell them about his past was his name, Jaku. Jaku spent the majority of his time in the camp whittling a wooden lute with a small bone knife he kept hidden in his boot. The three kept each other company the most during their captivity and developed a deep bond.
A hot summer wind swept across the grassy plains as the moon dipped below the horizon. Nara continued to contemplate the realness of the nightmares that had been plaguing him. The other prisoners groggily opened their eyes as their orc masters kicked them awake, it was time to move out. As the sun began to peek over the hills and ridges across the plains, dragonborn war-cries rang out followed by the thunderous sound of a plate armor charge. The camp was immediately thrown into mayhem as orcs rushed about yelling orders, grabbing weapons, and packing up belongings.
“What’s going on Nara? What’s got the orcs so riled up,” questioned Smalls as he yawned and stretched out his enormous arms and legs. Smalls rubbed his eyes in a daze as the situation slowly began to dawn on him.
“This is it, this is our chance to escape this wretched existence. Jaku, go and rally the men. Tell them the time has come to relieve ourselves of our oppressors.” With a nod Jaku ran off to carry out his orders as Nara and Smalls stood up beside each other ready to face the upcoming battle. Nara didn’t even compare in height to the goliath standing next to him but his commanding presence was known of throughout the camp. While Nara outranked the majority of the men in the camp, even those that held higher office grew to unquestioningly follow each of his commands. They had seen his bravery and maturity during the fall of their city and he had kept the survivors together and sane during their imprisonment. “The orcs are worried they are going to be attacked by the dragonborn we just heard. They cannot even tell that the charge is not coming in our direction. They are lost and in a state of confusion. At best we will only have several minutes to accomplish our task.”
“How do you know all this Nara?” A quizzical look appeared on Smalls’ face as he scratched his head in confusion. Suddenly, Smalls appeared to have an epiphany. “Wait, do you mean you can understand what they’re saying Nara?”
“Yes Smalls, but this is neither the time nor the place for me to explain my grasp of the Giant language. We must make haste if we are to succeed. For now we have the element of surprise and we must make use of it.” Nara lead Smalls out of their tent to look for more of the other men and then for the armory. Nara knew that that tent would be the most important part of their revolt. He didn’t plan on being skewered alive during his escape because he and his men weren’t outfitted properly with weapons and armor.
Jaku, accompanied by thirty strong and able-bodied men, eventually regrouped with Nara and Smalls. All of them looked eager to shed orc blood and gain revenge for their months of torture and subjugation. “I’m sorry this was all I could muster in such a short time, Sir. The others were afraid of rebelling and wished to be left alone.”
Nara let out an exasperated sigh. “No matter, you have done well Jaku. We will make do with what we have and be victorious. Tonight we shall dine and rest in front of our own campfire as free men.” Nara’s confidence bolstered the hopes of the men around him. None had a look of fear or uncertainty on his face, all were ready to taste victory or death. “We must make our way to the armory tent. Jaku, use your stealth skills and lead the way.”
Jaku silently led the way as he stealthily crept by orcs dashing about through the encampment. As he watched Jaku in action, Nara realized that he could not be an ordinary rogue like the rumors spoke of. He took note that Jaku did not even leave footprints wherever he tread, truly the mark of some sort of huntsman or assassin. Eventually the small band found themselves at one of the armory tents and quickly overpowered and subdued the guards. Each man immediately suited up and grabbed a weapon. Finding his armor and weapons inside a locked cage, Nara began to worry about how he would reclaim his armaments. Seeing his newfound friend in a predicament, Smalls strode over to the lock and drove his fist into it. The bony growths protruding from his skin around his knuckles smashed the lock into tiny pieces swinging the door of the cage wide open.
Astonished, Nara’s jaw dropped in amazement. “Wow, I didn’t know you could do something like that Smalls.” Nara patted Smalls on the back in thanks and walked into the cage still dazed at what he had just learned about his new friend and quickly donned his armor. The feel of Lionheart in his hands reassured him and warmed his heart. Lionheart returned the sentiments and burst into flames at being reunited with its master.
Scratching his head and smiling in embarrassment, Smalls let out a small laugh. “Haha, well, I didn’t know I could do that either.” Returning to looking for a weapon, Smalls walked around the small tent and looked at all the deadly implements. He had never used a weapon before and was having a difficult time deciding. All he had growing up was his favorite childhood toy, a sling he had been given by his mother. It had saved him during his banishment from the clan and was his most cherished belonging but the savage orcs had taken it away from him when he was captured.
“Let’s go Smalls! It’s time to go! Just grab something,” ordered Nara. He knew their time was running out and they needed to get into action.
“Yes, Nara.” Smalls gave a quick look around the room then grabbed the biggest and spikiest weapon he could find when a familiar sight caught his eye. His sling hung from a rack on the opposite side of the room. Smalls strode out of the tent with a smile into the early morning light, craghammer in hand and his favorite sling stuffed in his pocket. In full armor and armed to the teeth, Nara, Smalls, and Jaku led the men in full run toward the border of the encampment. It wasn’t until they reached the final outer gate were they stopped by a rather large squad of orcs led by none other than the black knight himself. His polished black armor glinted in the light as he gracefully flourished his halberds with effortless twists of his wrists. A slight smirk grew on his face as he saw that Nara was leading the ragtag band of rebels.
“Ah, so you think that you could just escape from here little Nara? No, I’m afraid not. You and your friends are going to rot under my feet after I kill every single one of you. I can’t have you running off to the empire and tell them my little secret.” With that threat, the black knight pointed his halberds at the escapees and ordered his orcs forward.
“Everyone, handle the orcs and make your escape. I’ll deal with this traitor.” Nara’s men rallied behind him and fought fiercely. For every fallen comrade, ten orcs were put to rest never to see the light of day again. The summer wind whipped at the battle standard strapped to Nara’s back. Nara looked up at the crimson banner and reminded himself about the words he had sewn into the fabric: God of Death. The monster standing before him had betrayed and killed his father. He must take revenge, but was his skill enough? After all, the black knight was his teacher and had taught him everything he knew. Ignoring the doubt in his mind, Nara charged forward at the black knight blind with rage. He took wild two-handed swings with Lionheart, the blade ablaze with righteous fury. The sword had embodied the wrath of its master. The black knight blocked some blows and dodged others while counter-attacking at every possible opening. Both warriors seemed to be locked in an epic dance with death only but a razor’s edge away from either combatant. Suddenly, the black knight slipped on a pool of blood which allowed Lionheart to graze his black chainmail and singe the interlocking metal rings. The black knight yelped in pain as he stumbled backwards to the ground clutching his abdomen where a small splotch of blood began to appear.
“Hah, it seems the gods favor you today little Nara. Luck is on your side,” gasped the black knight. He winced in pain at his wounded abdomen as Nara stalked closer with a cold look on his face.
Nara no longer heard the battle around him or even what the black knight had just said. All he knew was that vengeance was lying before him, helpless, at his mercy. “I have dreamt about this moment for months, traitor. Now I will finally have retribution for the death of my father.” With a grin on his face, Nara raised Lionheart above his head, the blade seemed to scream in anger at its next victim. It knew what this monster had done to its previous master. Just as Nara was about to deal the death blow, a familiar voice seemed to cry out for help from somewhere halting his swing. “What was that,” thought Nara. Shrugging it off, Nara again raised his sword over the black knight. The black knight cringed in fear as death itself stood above him. As Lionheart came screaming down, another faint cry for help again halted Nara in his tracks. Turning around, Nara saw that his comrade’s had begun to lose their battle with the orcs who were finally beginning to regroup. If they didn’t escape now only the cold grip of death awaited them. He would have to finish his grizzly deed quickly then immediately return to his allies. Upon looking down, Nara realized the black knight had made his escape, a trail of blood led off deep into the camp.
“Nara! Help! We need you,” yelled Smalls as he stood back to back with Jaku. The two were surrounded by orcs felling them one after another yet their numbers continued to increase. Realizing his friends were in danger, Nara decided not to pursue the black knight. What good was a leader if all his men were dead? He would have to put his own feelings and agenda aside and exact his revenge on his father’s murderer some other time, the safety of his friends was more important. Nara quickly charged into battle and rallied his men back together under his banner. Lionheart mercilessly cut down orc after orc, its bloodlust had not been quenched for the black knight still breathed. With the renewed vigor Nara brought to the battle, the prisoners were able to make their escape into the wilderness with Jaku covering their tracks. The orcs in disarray after the retreat of their leader, the black knight, did not follow Nara and his band for they weren’t worth the trouble they caused nor could they even find them.
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Post by The Keeper on Jul 17, 2009 19:34:22 GMT -8
-The Prophecy-
The first night under the stars as free men was well overdue for Nara and his companions. The warm glow of the campfire was embodied in the hearty laughter of Nara and his men. Each one took his turn telling tales of his valor during their escape from the orc encampment. Feelings of joy and good cheer were almost permeable in the tiny camp secluded in the forest clearing. It was only Nara who kept an uneasy, nagging feeling simmering just below his conscious thought. No one else knew the burden that weighed heavily on his heart: he had allowed his father’s murderer to escape without tasting cold, vengeant justice.
“Sir, now it’s your turn to tell us a story. Come on, we all know you have a few good ones.” A man quite easily Nara’s senior by many years had turned the attention of the entire encampment to Nara who had been lost in thought. The men waited with eager smiles as they patiently waited for their commander to continue the merriment.
“Yeah, Nara! Tell them how you sent that silly black knight scurrying. I saw how you handled him, it was like…like…a wolf cornering a rabbit,” exclaimed Smalls. The enormous goliath grinned as he fiddled with his sling eagerly awaiting Nara’s story.
As soon as Smalls had finished his statement, Nara’s blood felt cold as ice. An icy shiver ran down his spine as his thoughts began to race. “I let him get away. I let him get away…My one chance at revenge that I waited months for slipped through my fingers because I was not skilled enough.” Nara was so lost in his sea of emotions that he did not notice the awkward silence that had fallen across the camp. Some of the men began to fidget and mumble to each other as they realized their commander was battling with his own internal demons, ones that they could not shield him from.
Suddenly, the snap of a twig brought everyone’s wits back at the ready, including Nara’s. Experience and senses born from dozens of battles immediately swelled up inside each man reinforcing his will to fight at a moment’s notice. Nara silently put a single finger to his lips as he motioned for everyone to quietly reach for their weapons. Just as Nara’s fingers reached the hilt of Lionheart sending his energy coursing through the deadly implement, what looked like armored horses charged out of the dark forest surrounding the surprised men. Nara and his company were quickly encircled as the intruders galloped around them forming up with lances poised at the ready. As the horses came to a stop, Nara realized what trouble they had stumbled upon for they were not horses at all but centaurs. Each one was armored in leather and wielded a lance long enough to skewer three men on it’s beautiful blade. The centaurs ambled forward forcing Nara and his men to be bunched up next to the campfire. Cornered, the trapped men had looks of fear on their face for most had only heard of centaurs in legend and believed them to be simply that. Several tense moments had passed when a taller, plate-armored centaur armed with a longsword and shield walked into the clearing accompanied by an enchantingly beautiful female centaur in leather armor wielding a quarterstaff.
“I am Orieus, leader of my tribe. Who are you that dare to trespass in our land,” boomed the large, plate-armored centaur as he pounded his front hooves into the soft earth. Thunder began to rumble overhead as Orieus spoke as if to make his statement all the more final.
Nara stepped away from his companions and bravely stood before the large centaur. The top of Nara’s head barely reached up to the mighty Orieus’ chest. “I am Nara, Lieutenant of Mirin. My men and I were captured defending our city from orc raiders and have only recently escaped. We are tired and wounded, we mean you no harm. Please, let us pass through your beautiful forest on our way to Brom so that we may warn them of this orc uprising.” Nara planted Lionheart into the ground and signaled for his men to do the same with their weapons in an attempt to prove to Orieus that they meant peace.
“How do I know that this is not one of your kind’s foul tricks? We have been fooled before by humans after placing our faith and trust in them. I have learned that the hearts of men can be weak.” Orieus unsheathed his longsword and held it to Nara’s neck. Nara did not flinch as the deadly sword lightly touched the beads of sweat on his neck. Lightning began to crackle in growing storm clouds overhead as the other centaurs followed suit and raised their lances and pressed even closer to Nara’s men. The situation was becoming more tense and was about to spill over in bloodshed.
“Wait,” exclaimed the female centaur as she rushed forward and lowered Orieus’ sword from Nara’s throat. “You must forgive Orieus for being distrusting during these times. We can sense the winds of change are beginning to blow and it is hard to place trust in allies these days. My name is Nessus and I am the advisor of our tribe. Your name…tell me your name again boy.”
“My name is Nara of Mirin.”
“Ah yes, now your name sounds all the more familiar to me. The spirits have spoken to me about you little one. Orieus, tell your men to lower their weapons. This is the boy mentioned in prophecy.”
“Yes, my lady. Men, lower your lances,” boomed Orieus as he sheathed his sword. The storm clouds began to dissipate as Orieus’ anger slowly began to cool. Hints of thunder still subtly echoed above the forest.
Nara marveled at the control Orieus had over the elemental powers of thunder and lightning. He then realized that these centaurs were in tune with nature, in complete control over the situation, and upon a whim could exterminate him and his company. Better he and his men do what they are told unless they wish to incur Orieus’ fierce elemental wrath.
“Nara, the spirits did not exactly say what you are destined to do but I do know this: you hold an importance in the future that few, if any, could even hope to fulfill. You must stay true to your path.” Nessus then leaned toward Nara and whispered into his ear so that only he could hear her words. “Avoid the darkness that plagues you. It will only lead to ruin for you and those dear to you. You know the darkness of which I speak. May your heart remain steadfast.”
Nara froze and his heart stopped as Nessus’ words sunk in. “She knows…the centaur knows,” thought Nara.
Nessus again stood up straight and turned to Orieus. “Come, let us leave these men alone. They will cause us no harm.” With that, Orieus lifted up his shield into the air and signaled his men to return to the forest. The air filled with dust as centaur hooves pounded the ground as the warriors charged back into the forest followed by their captain, Orieus. Only Nessus remained standing in front of Nara and his men.
“Thank you Nessus. My men and I will make our way out of your forest at first light tomorrow.” Nara strode over to Lionheart, pulled it out of the ground, and sheathed it on his back. A dark pallor of worry had fallen over Nara’s face. Nessus strode over to Nara and placed her hand upon his shoulder causing Nara to look up into her intense green eyes. Nessus again leaned in to whisper into his ear.
“Do not worry little one. Take heart in your friends and comrades, for hope and friendship will be your greatest allies. They will be there when you need them the most. It is not only they who need you Nara. I have faith that you will succeed little one…we all have faith.” With that, Nessus turned and charged into the forest after the rest of her tribe leaving Nara and his men standing in the dim campfire light amongst settling dust. The centaurs had left just as quickly as they had come.
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